The Green Salamander

[Flex]

In a private room of this lavish tavern, Beric Dayne is seated behind a table, awaiting any men that wish to join him. Standing next to him are Gaharr Tohn, Zandros and the sellsword Zarztahn Koh.

[Fel]

A large, tattooed Volantene approaches the table.

"What you do?" he asks in halting Westerosi.

[Flex]

Beric eyes the man before answering. "I am looking for men who enjoy fighting and would like to join me."

[Fel]

"Fight where?" the man says with a furrowed brow.

[Flex]

"Anywhere that there is to fight! I am planning to go through most of the free cities and on to the east. If there is a battle waiting for us there, then we will fight." He offered the man a cup of wine. "However, eventually I plan to return to Braavos, where my master is waiting."

[Fel]

The Volantene grabs the offered mug of wine and knocks it back, red drops running down his face. He wipes his mouth wth the back of his hand makes a satisfied noise.

"Ok," he says finally, and writes his name down as Lexo Kolle.

[Flex]

"Welcome to the company, Lexo. I will inform you when we ride for Norvos, which is our next stop."

[Fel]

Lexo made a disgusted face, "Norvoshi smell."

"How name company?"

[Flex]

"They might smell, but I am sure they have some good fighting men there. As to you other question, the company name is 'The Others'... perfect for making people fearfull."

[Fel]

Lexo shrugged, he hadn't heard of the Others before. He moved to stand beside Beric, and folded his arms looking menacing.

[Erik]

A dark-haired man with a moustache approaches the table. He has a sword hanging from one hip and a harp on the other.

He asks, with what sounds to be a slight Westerlandish accent, "So whats the pay for your little band?"

[Flex]

Beric refilled the mug of ale and handed it to the man. "Alas, for the moment there shall be no payment, for I am forming this company for my masters. Once we return to Braavos however, my masters will pay all of you men well."

[Erik]

The man raises an eyebrow. "And which masters are those, ser?"

[Flex]

Beric allowed himself to smile. "One's that need not concern you. Know this: Wherever we go a fight may be waiting. I may be wrong but you seem like the type of man who enjoys a fight. And there is always plunder until proper payment can be made. I do not believe any good warrior would say no to a fight, or am I wrong?"

[Erik]

The man shrugs, "Eh, I s'pose." He holds out his hand. "Wyl the Harpist, at your service, ser."