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Post by Quenton Baratheon on Apr 23, 2008 6:46:31 GMT -5
After seeing that Lord Bulwer's camp was set up Harwin walked over to get that glass of wine promised and to find out what had been going on on this continent for the last 10 years. The Bulwer camp receive Lord Sarsfield in a friendly manner. Oliver proceeds to run through every major event he can think of that has happened over the past ten years, right up to the war in Dorne, and the current situation whereby Lord Irwyn and the Lord Hand, Roland Royce are attempting to rebuild Dorne. OOC: lordsofwesteros.proboards107.com/index.cgi?board=info&action=display&thread=3857 |
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Post by wookie on Apr 23, 2008 6:53:47 GMT -5
Osmund clatters up in his blacksmith's wagon and begins to set up his wares as well as unpack his breastplate splitters and implements for prying knights out of warped & dented armour - always popular at these events
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Post by quakeii on Apr 23, 2008 7:00:54 GMT -5
Once Oliver finished this lengthy narrative Harwin drained the rest of his cup. "Well that is certainly a lot." He starts, "Who's decision was it to put on this tourney with the war so freshly over?"
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Post by Lord Howland Royce on Apr 23, 2008 7:11:16 GMT -5
The King's Men guarding the prince set up camp near the Ironborn.
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Post by Quenton Baratheon on Apr 23, 2008 7:17:39 GMT -5
Oliver chuckled. "It was the decision of Lady Aranya Royce, I believe. There was talk of a tourney of sorts at Oldtown for quite a while, yet it never actually materialised. It seems Lady Royce got there first, and the knights of the realm followed. A shame, Oldtown would have been much more convenient for myself and my men here, but, one can't complain. It's nice to get out and about once in a while."
"As to the war," Antony added, "It seemed that most of the realm simply fled from Dorne as soon as the fighting was done. The Far Reach is the only area taking any responsibility there now, with help from the Crown of course. I was out there myself upto about a month ago, helping rebuild." He didn't look at or mention Oliver, who looked decidedly awkward.
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Post by quakeii on Apr 23, 2008 7:27:12 GMT -5
Harwin sighed, "I fear I have seen that happen many times. A war is done, nothing more to be gained, so people just leave and the natives are left to rebuild what others destroyed." Shifting in his seat and his topic Harwin asked, "Now, is there anyone, besides you men, that I should be worried about in the melee?"
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Post by Quenton Baratheon on Apr 23, 2008 7:35:17 GMT -5
"To be honest, I don't really know how the field is looking yet," admitted Oliver.
"I heard Tomas Clegane was here," came the gruff voice of Ser Roger.
Everyone turned to look at him to see if he was being serious. He was.
"Shit," muttered Ser Antony.
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Post by quakeii on Apr 23, 2008 7:37:47 GMT -5
"Thomas Clegane? I haven't heard of him."
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Post by Quenton Baratheon on Apr 23, 2008 7:40:30 GMT -5
"Let's just say he's highly proficient at what he does," Ser Antony said with a wink.
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Post by quakeii on Apr 23, 2008 7:56:08 GMT -5
Harwin nodded, slightly confused but content to leave it at that, "Well men, I think I have wasted enough of your time. I will retire to my own tent, I'm sure my armour needs attending and I fear I don't have a squire to do it."
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Post by Deleted on Apr 23, 2008 11:04:33 GMT -5
Ser Ethan Smallwick came up to Ser Harwin Sarsfield and looked him over. "Well met, ser. I have heard tell that you have some skill in combat."
Lady Aranya moved among the other participants, curious about their fighting skills. When she saw the ironborn tents go up, she raised her eyebrows and walked over. She had heard of their recent bloody reavings at Ghaston Grey.
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Post by Deleted on Apr 23, 2008 11:07:03 GMT -5
Osmund clatters up in his blacksmith's wagon and begins to set up his wares as well as unpack his breastplate splitters and implements for prying knights out of warped & dented armour - always popular at these events Besides Osmund's wagon is a makeshift stall that a farrier from the town has set up, to shoe the horses. Other vendors come up from the town, selling spiced sausages and cider and ale, and bardings for destriers. There is also a mummers' troupe, The Power Puff Girls. |
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Post by barker520 on Apr 23, 2008 11:08:36 GMT -5
Mag hesitantly walked towards the walls of the the largest city he had ever seen, trying to stay out of the way of the bustling crowd going every which way. He spotted a man sitting at a table, with papers and ink. In his best common tongue, he said, "Greeting, southern man. I am Mag of Stoneborn. I am here for... for the..."
"Tournament," Valla whispered to him.
"Yes, I am here for the tournament," Mag said, inwardly cursing the common tongue which he or the old gods did not know.
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Post by Deleted on Apr 23, 2008 11:21:58 GMT -5
Master Galwyn looked at them and sniffed. Normally he would disdain to allow such savages to participate, but unfortunately he was employed by that wildling bitch, Lady Royce, who was half savage herself. For all Galwyn knew, Lady Royce would admit these creatures for the sake of camaraderie, and also to tweak the noses off all the offended lordlings.
"What do you wish to compete in?" he asked, in a slow, clear voice. He was nervous as well. The wild man was huge and fierce.
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Post by quakeii on Apr 23, 2008 11:27:24 GMT -5
Ser Ethan Smallwick came up to Ser Harwin Sarsfield and looked him over. "Well met, ser. I have heard tell that you have some skill in combat." Harwin smiled. "I suppose, you don't survive the Dothraki for long without some skill in arms. Though I've never truly been knighted. And who is it that I am talking with?" |
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Hope you all are well and happy.