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Post by Lord Rhaegar Targaryen on Nov 10, 2008 2:13:28 GMT -5
The Stark men from almost all sides draw their weapons too, and begin to step forwards. Gariss raises a hand in pause, and they stop. Walking over to Zach, he helps him up with one hand. Zach, rising, snarls and reaches for his weapon; but Gariss puts a hand on his forearm and turns to the Rickon Lovers.
"Why not wait for a true verdict?" he asks, his voice calm and lingering.
"Beneath the weirwood of the Old Gods, so sacred to everybody here, Lord Reed struck Rickon Baratheon for one final time, killing him," he said, his voice raising. His heart pounded in his chest, but he dare not let it show now. "He did fall shortly after, but he may not be dead."
He had seen how Olander performed in the final moments of the duel, though he had never seen any of the like. His eyes were livid, and his movements unhindered. Was it the Old Gods?
"Maester Lucien?" Gariss says, loudly, turning to the maester, waiting for the verdict. His stomach seemed to come up into his throat. He prayed inwardly that Reed lived as the maester was busy at work. "What is it?" he asked, quieter now.
Gariss glanced down to the ground at the Fallen King. The Horned Wolf. His old friend. His eyes were lifeless, and his body a mess. This was the result of war, and Gariss realized there is no such thing as a true friend when it came to the game of thrones.
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Post by Horas on Nov 10, 2008 13:47:34 GMT -5
Lucas slowly edges towards the one eyed man, his spear clutched tight in his hands. His eyes look red and raw, but they are narrowed and focused now. A hunter approaching his prey. Lucas takes another step towards Rickon's follower.
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Post by Lord Rhaegar Targaryen on Nov 10, 2008 18:31:25 GMT -5
Gariss looks at Lucas, taking in the sight of him, and his intent. Catching the man's gaze, he left it there for a moment, before looking away. He would not want any unprovoked attack done by his men, but if they tried to take another step towards Olander's body, he would Ice them as quickly as they could speak.
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Post by The Smith on Nov 10, 2008 18:50:03 GMT -5
Big Benn growled.
The one-eyed man drew his sword, and snarled at Umber.
The Maester hurried forward, and the on-eyed man reacted. His sword glided through the air, and the Maester fell back short a couple of fingers.
"Do not touch Rickon." He pointed his sword at Stark, "We know of your frog's poisons."
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Post by Lord Rhaegar Targaryen on Nov 10, 2008 21:07:47 GMT -5
Stark walked forwards, between the Maester and the man. "You may inspect him yourself, then. Dead is dead, and Rickon's fate is the same."
The man would pay for his action on Lucius, weather it be with a hand, or his life, should he continue. "Maester Lucius, are you alright? What is the verdict of Lord Reed?"
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Post by The Smith on Nov 10, 2008 21:50:54 GMT -5
Lucius lay on the ground screaming, his damaged hand clutched in his whole one.
The One-eyed man could not help himself, he swung his sword at Stark's neck.
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Post by Lord Rhaegar Targaryen on Nov 10, 2008 21:52:14 GMT -5
Stark, ready, raised Ice to defend himself.
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Post by Lord Rhaegar Targaryen on Nov 11, 2008 0:27:04 GMT -5
/ / / / /
Stark appeared in the room where Lord Olander was being treated. Gariss' wounds had been treated themselves, his toros bare but for the bandages wrapping his middrift. He wore gray breeches, as he trudged into the room. Big Benn Umber was close behind. He hadn't left his side since the duel.
"Olander?" Gariss said very quietly, kneeling next to the bed that had the stale smell of death lingering in the air.
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Post by Ollie on Nov 11, 2008 2:08:48 GMT -5
The crannogman murmured some grim utterance from beyond the realm of the waking, churning in the sheets of his sickbed like a moth caught in the flame. "Blood and wood... chains... sky..." the Lord Reed groaned. The bandages across this leg were soaked crimson and caked with black, dried blood.
"Wear it... or all for naught... No, no... no, no no... The giants will roar, no, no..."
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Post by Lord Rhaegar Targaryen on Nov 11, 2008 14:54:32 GMT -5
Gariss was utterly demoralized by the recent events. He didn't know if Olander could hear him at all, so instead, he reached down and placed a hand on his shoulder.
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Post by Ollie on Nov 11, 2008 15:30:43 GMT -5
Olander winced, sucking in a sharp breath through gritted teeth. The lance of pain through his wrecked frame brought him around, his eyes fluttering open. "Gariss?" he grunted. His voice was still a familiar soft, though without any of the power or conviction normally heard behind it. Olander sounded faint. Distant.
"Gariss... Rickon, he... Rickon is dead," he grunted, stiffly grabbing his King's wrist and holding him in a weak grasp. Lord Reeds eyes fluttered relevantly around Gariss Stark's face, desperately trying to find the words to speak. "His men will attack! Call the guards. Gariss..."
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Post by Lord Rhaegar Targaryen on Nov 11, 2008 15:44:24 GMT -5
"It is too late," Gariss sighed. "One of theirs attacked me. Even after the trial, and underneath the Heart Tree. They are not of the Old Gods, for if they were, they would not be able to live with themselves," Gariss said, his voice burning.
"But yes... Rickon is dead..." He couldn't bare to tell him their situation.
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Post by Ollie on Nov 11, 2008 15:57:46 GMT -5
Lord Reed shoved Gariss's hand away, and waved feebly to the far wall. "Go..." he rasped. "Go, under the hearth's mantle. The engraving... the... pull the grate to the right," his teeth ground together in the effort of speaking. "You can... You can escape. Outside the walls. My people... they will help you. Their King... go... Raise... Raise your men and fight... Please."
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Post by Lord Rhaegar Targaryen on Nov 11, 2008 16:14:04 GMT -5
"I will not condemn my men here," Gariss vowed. "If it comes to it, I will offer myself in trail by combat. I am not a coward, just as you were not."
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Post by Ollie on Nov 11, 2008 16:33:14 GMT -5
Olander struck Gariss.
It was not a strong blow, but was as forceful as the tiny crannogman could manage in his state. The strike stung all the same, for other reasons.
"Condemn your men to a life under tyranny by staying here and dying," he growled through his teeth. "Or liberate them by throwing free you captor's shackles and returning with an army! If you die, you condemn your home, our home, the entire North to a fate less than it deserves! Liberate them, and bring..." his voice wavered, weakening, "And bring them strength. And... And save them..."
Olander slunk back in his bed, breath coming in a slow, warbling rasp. "That is a command, my King. Your... your father commands..." he managed, before falling silent. Olander Reed's eyes fluttered to gaze above him.
His were eyes that had seen much in this world. They were tepid, unreadable and aloof, eyes that had seen promise and betrayal, love and death. They were mossy green as the swamps of his home, eyes that had seen dreams, sights and visions from they he worshiped. They were eyes that had his God's will be done, and as he lay there with his eyes wide open, he left to meet them.
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Hope you all are well and happy.