Post by The Stranger on Jul 27, 2008 11:45:13 GMT -5
Brandon groaned as the Vale part of the camp began to bustle with life, he rubbed his tired eyes before he stood up. He yawned the entire way to the food cart, where most of the Vale knights had assembled. The lords were somewhere else, but these were the heirs or at least second in line. They seemed young to his eyes, though they had fought a battle north of here. The hard and slightly lost look in their eyes spoke the truth of that. They were Ser Edric Hunter, a young Belmore knight, a Waynwood squire and a few knightly bastards, all newly knighted apperantly which made the young man from Ironoaks sour. They were amiable enough, when they forgot about the war and discussed other things.
“How good are you with that sword, Royce?” Ser Haron Belmore asked seemingly eager to prove his worth some more. “Good enough to get me out of trouble,” Brandon answered. The young knight didn’t take what he thought was a plain dismissal very well. “Let us find out then,” the bristling man said, fingering his sword. Sighing Brandon followed the knight to the temporary training place.
As soon as they arrived and had picked up blunted weapons, the young knight charged coming in fast, not fast enough as Brandon slipped past and held his sword at the ready. This seemed to enrage Ser Belmore further and he came in with a flurry of blows. Brandon deflected most of them and dodge the rest. The knight seemed encourage by this thinking he had the advantage, and maybe he had for a while. After a deflection caught the knight of balance, Brandon’s leg snaked in for a kick the young knight however spun with the impact regaining balance. Ser Haron rushed in again doing the same mistake, or he thought that the Royce would defend himself the same way. Instead of slipping to the side Brandon ducked the strike and swept the Belmore of his feet.
Brandon swept the sweat of his face before dropping the sword and offering his hand to the knight lying on the ground. “Well fought, you just need to take it easier and not rush in,” Brandon said with a smile. Ser Haron took his hand and grumbled something under his breath.
After that they spent some more time training as there wasn’t all that much to do. Then the night came.
Brandon looked at the field outside the northern walls of King’s Landing, almost more red than white. The corpses must have been removed before they even arrived. He pulled his white cloak around himself as he began his walk to the wall. Some would think it odd that he wore white when he needed to sneak close to the wall. The snow would make sure that a black spot would be seen, though he doubted that the foreigners would see anything with the torches blinding them. Earlier that day he had looked at the wall with a Myrish looking-glass, spotting the scorpions and ballistae on the wall. After memorizing the positions he had decided that the siege and assault would go better if the enemy didn’t have those weapons pointing at him. That took him back to his present task, making sure that the scorpions and ballistae burnt.
Getting as close to the wall as he dared, he began to focus on the torches around the scorpion. He willed the flames to embrace the scorpion and grinned when the flames got bigger and consumed the siege weapon. Alarms were raised and he could hear angry yelling. “They must think that they’ve been infiltrated,” Brandon thought as he continued his task. As he progressed he began to tire and in the end he had coloured some of the snow with his own blood as it seeped out his nose and from under his finger nails. There wasn’t any pain, just the growing feeling that he would fall into the blissful warmth of fire. Which would devour him, fire was nothing if not hungry. When he had walked the length of the northern wall, half the night was over. The blood continued to flow a few minutes but was diminishing by the second, he began to clean himself and he slipped back into the camp without any sentries spotting him.
Results.
Some siege weapons on the northern wall of King’s Landing gets consumed by fire.. 500 Enemy dead.
Brandon improves towards grand master sword.
Brandon takes Heavy wound.
“How good are you with that sword, Royce?” Ser Haron Belmore asked seemingly eager to prove his worth some more. “Good enough to get me out of trouble,” Brandon answered. The young knight didn’t take what he thought was a plain dismissal very well. “Let us find out then,” the bristling man said, fingering his sword. Sighing Brandon followed the knight to the temporary training place.
As soon as they arrived and had picked up blunted weapons, the young knight charged coming in fast, not fast enough as Brandon slipped past and held his sword at the ready. This seemed to enrage Ser Belmore further and he came in with a flurry of blows. Brandon deflected most of them and dodge the rest. The knight seemed encourage by this thinking he had the advantage, and maybe he had for a while. After a deflection caught the knight of balance, Brandon’s leg snaked in for a kick the young knight however spun with the impact regaining balance. Ser Haron rushed in again doing the same mistake, or he thought that the Royce would defend himself the same way. Instead of slipping to the side Brandon ducked the strike and swept the Belmore of his feet.
Brandon swept the sweat of his face before dropping the sword and offering his hand to the knight lying on the ground. “Well fought, you just need to take it easier and not rush in,” Brandon said with a smile. Ser Haron took his hand and grumbled something under his breath.
After that they spent some more time training as there wasn’t all that much to do. Then the night came.
Brandon looked at the field outside the northern walls of King’s Landing, almost more red than white. The corpses must have been removed before they even arrived. He pulled his white cloak around himself as he began his walk to the wall. Some would think it odd that he wore white when he needed to sneak close to the wall. The snow would make sure that a black spot would be seen, though he doubted that the foreigners would see anything with the torches blinding them. Earlier that day he had looked at the wall with a Myrish looking-glass, spotting the scorpions and ballistae on the wall. After memorizing the positions he had decided that the siege and assault would go better if the enemy didn’t have those weapons pointing at him. That took him back to his present task, making sure that the scorpions and ballistae burnt.
Getting as close to the wall as he dared, he began to focus on the torches around the scorpion. He willed the flames to embrace the scorpion and grinned when the flames got bigger and consumed the siege weapon. Alarms were raised and he could hear angry yelling. “They must think that they’ve been infiltrated,” Brandon thought as he continued his task. As he progressed he began to tire and in the end he had coloured some of the snow with his own blood as it seeped out his nose and from under his finger nails. There wasn’t any pain, just the growing feeling that he would fall into the blissful warmth of fire. Which would devour him, fire was nothing if not hungry. When he had walked the length of the northern wall, half the night was over. The blood continued to flow a few minutes but was diminishing by the second, he began to clean himself and he slipped back into the camp without any sentries spotting him.
Results.
Some siege weapons on the northern wall of King’s Landing gets consumed by fire.. 500 Enemy dead.
Brandon improves towards grand master sword.
Brandon takes Heavy wound.