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Post by Ollie on Sept 7, 2008 14:48:21 GMT -5
Yorlan swished his cape around his shoulders and fastened it with a black lotus clasp. Barking an order back to the northmen, they quickly assembled in formation and prepared to depart.
"Easy? Where's the fun in that?"
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Post by Tytos on Sept 7, 2008 14:53:01 GMT -5
Pieter frowned. "Justice is not meant to be fun." He adjusted his cloak and prepared to set out.
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Post by Ollie on Sept 8, 2008 1:14:43 GMT -5
/////
A funeral is held for the late Roose Stark. What few northmen remain gather beneath the thrice-carved weirwoods, their wise eyes watching out over the realm he once ruled. Olander Reed stands vigil over his slain liege lord, jaw clenched firm in some unreadable emotion.
For the good of the North... I'm sorry that it had to be this way, milord. Truly I am. Things could not go on in the state they were. It was for the good of the North, for the greater good... It was, I swear it... For the good of the North... Olander echoed silently in his thoughts, his mossy green eyes looking on to the pallid corpse before him. They had dressed Roose in a suit of battle plate and chain mail, the whites as pure as snow and the greys glowering like the sky before a snowstorm. Ice was clutched in his hands, its point coming to rest between his feet. It would remain there until he arrived in Winterfell, where it would be kept safe until tiny Gariss was old enough to wield it.
Tyla was nearby, as was her child. Olander could only just see them out of the corner of his eye, and perhaps it was a trick of the torchlight, but the crannogman believed there to be a tear in her eye. However the Wolf Pup, as many had taken to calling him, was silent. It was strange, given the wont of babes to wail or fuss, but not he, not Gariss.
I will make him strong. A strong warrior, a stronger mind. He will love with the strength a husband and father should, and rule with the strong justice of a true lord. I swear an oath to you, here in the sight the Old Gods. I will raise the North a strong lord. I promise you, milord.
Tomorrow they would depart; Olander and his household, Lady Tyla and Lord Gariss, and the body of Roose to be lain to rest. Tomorrow they would return to Winterfell, where Olander would begin to set things to rights. The crannogman looked to the wolf for the final time, steeled his eyes, and left.
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Post by House Lefford on Sept 8, 2008 1:20:51 GMT -5
Edmure stood silently thinking over the life of his lord Roose, Westeros had lost a great man he thought to himself.
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Post by wookie on Sept 8, 2008 4:32:45 GMT -5
A small company of dornishmen arrive at Moat Cailin, late in the afternoon.
They number around 30 and fly the standard of the hooded hawk of Fowler.
Lord Wencel Fowler rides forward and asks admittance and to speak with Lord Olander Reed.
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Post by Ollie on Sept 8, 2008 12:10:32 GMT -5
A pair of guards murmur to themselves reluctantly before granting the Fowler men entrance. In the courtyard they find a flurry of activity, northmen and crannogmen alike assembling and preparing a departure. A spearman wanders over to Lord Olander and alerts him of the Dornish presence. The crannoglord furrows his brow with inner contemplation before comprehension dawns.
"Lord Wencel," Olander calls, turning to the company of men and quickly crossing the yard. The name was spoken with a forgivable moment of apprehension for a man he had only met once. "The arms of House Fowler do you well, I see. You've flown far from home."
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Post by wookie on Sept 8, 2008 17:24:46 GMT -5
Wencel inclined his head briefly "Only by invitation, Lord Reed. We falcon's prefer our own nest in troubled times" he looked around for a moment. "I am imagining these are troubled times. I heard about Lord Stark from the locals. A distressing turn of events, I'm sure you'll agree?" he continued as he took a small water bottle from his saddlebag. He took a quick sip and dashed a swift drop on the ground with a murmured invocation.
"I do hope that you have recovered from these dastardly acts, Lord Reed? It would be amiss for two such prominent figures to go so swiftly from our northern borders. Gods forbid the Others choose to strike at these dark days" he smiled sardonically
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Post by Percy Rivers on Sept 8, 2008 19:42:10 GMT -5
Felix stood near the back of the group, and though he glanced once or twice at his former liege lord he kept his eyes firmly on Olander. Whatever thoughts were in his mind remained firmly there, and his face betrayed no emotion.
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Post by Ollie on Sept 10, 2008 23:18:10 GMT -5
"Fear not," Olander said, unamused. "The Others are the end, but now is not their beginning." The Old Gods would have told me, was what went unspoken.
"As for the blackguard who committed the crimes, he and his lackeys are in the process of being apprehended as we speak. With any hope, Ser Warren will arrive in the North without incident or harm to the innocent."
A messenger ran up and delivered a few words to the Lord Protector, alerting him that the men were prepared to depart.
"I've gotten you to soar this far north. Can I coax you to Winterfell, on the promise of good company?" he asked the young Fowler, relaying commands to his men to begin march. The crannogman saddled up, though not entirely pleased, and joined with his men in the journey to Winterfell.
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Post by wookie on Sept 11, 2008 3:03:12 GMT -5
Wencel shrugged "I don't like my feathers frozen, but I hear Winterfell has hot springs to keep my blood warm, so I'll see it for myself" he gave a lazy gesture to his guard captain and soon his men had fallen into line behind them as he trotted casually after Olander.
"I trust this Frey character and his accomplices will be made to sing before you end their lives? I am curious to see why a riverlander would have such a grudge against your northmen...ah, I mean Lord Garris' northmen of course" he said, a ghost of a smile playing upon on his lips.
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Post by Ollie on Sept 11, 2008 3:08:42 GMT -5
If that slim smirk gave Olander pause, his face betrayed it not. "They are Lord Gariss' northmen, as much as they are my northmen, or Lord Karstark's northmen, or Lord Burley's northmen. The blood of the First Men runs deeper than that of the southron kingdoms... particularly Dorne, as the past has illustrated. Rest assured however that the Frey brood will be made to answer for their crimes. No doubt the hunchback Frey that was captured will lead us to a man in a position to tell us the why's, not only the who's or how's."
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Post by wookie on Sept 11, 2008 3:40:01 GMT -5
Wencel smiled, as if scoring a point "Of course, Lord Reed. You are right about Dorne of course. Our hot climate is not condusive to your white trees. Besides, "First Men" is a misnomer, no? My maester tells me of other inhabitants in Westeros before they landed. Seems you didn't get along, much as the Andals didn't get along with your ancestors when they landed. Sad, really. When the Rhoynar landed, my dornish ancestors took it as an opportunity, not a threat, and we prospered as a result. Our ways may appear odd to outsiders, but they have served us well - the foolishness of House Martell not withstanding" his face soured a little.
"Believe me, I rue the day that our foolish queen meddled with untrustworthy allies. At least Emelia made sure that we usually benefited from such deals, Tristeza was not so fortunate. Still, that is the past and I believe in the future, don't you Lord Reed?" he glanced across at the man
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Post by Ollie on Sept 11, 2008 14:02:29 GMT -5
Lord Olander knew the 'other inhabitants' Lord Wencel spoke of. He knew them well.
"After the First Men settled in Westeros, the Children of the Forest and we became fast allies. They taught us of sight beyond sight, the language of the forest and beasts. They gave gifts of knowledge, the most important of that the knowledge of the Old Gods. We leaved in harmony for centuries, and it was only once the Andals invaded did the Children decided to abandon Westeros."
Olander had spoken very firm and concise, as if explaining an obvious lesson to a small child, which of course he was. "No doubt your maester was mistaken somewhere. I am sure you learned it the best you could, Wencel."
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Post by wookie on Sept 11, 2008 15:44:26 GMT -5
Wencel chuckled "As you say, ser. I have little time for tales of snarks and grumpkins however" he replied airily.
"Emelia played the mystical card too, so I am told. That may work among the credulous and ignorant but I believe what I see and touch. I have little faith in 'magic' and superstition" he sneered.
He looked around casually as he continued northwards. "We had a flame priestess come to visit a few years back who tried to convince me she could see visions in fire" he carried on. "She obviously failed to see the vision where I had her flogged and cast out into the desert though" he smiled at the memory.
"Strength is maintained by force of will and..." his voice tailed off as he frowned at a flock of ravens circling overheard. "Is that normal?" he said, pointing
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Post by Ollie on Sept 12, 2008 3:14:30 GMT -5
Olander glanced at the ravens with only the mildest curiosity, but did not deign to answer the young lord's question. "The gods choose what visions they send their seers, not the other way around. It did not cross your mind that mayhaps her gods only let her glimpse what they wished? That their purpose for her did not require a glimpse of her demise?"
"I have no doubt you are a goodly lord. She must have been a truly wicked seer for the gods to want her dead. Righteous of you, to flay the wretch and condemn her to a slow death in the Dornish sands. You are a paragon, Lord Fowler."
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Hope you all are well and happy.