Post by The Smith on Aug 15, 2008 0:29:48 GMT -5
You win every battle you avoid having to fight. That was one of the lessons Radek had learned in Dorne, watching the general who would one day be called Bloody Alex. The army had sailed around the great Dornish castle of Yronwood, gatekeeper against the armies of the North for hundreds of years, and opened the way at Lemonwood instead.
“…like you've come looking for your mother." The Mander Knight, in his green and gold colors of the Tyrells. He was on foot, Radek was ahorse. That was in Radek’s favor. But then the Manderman had 10,000 friends in the city. Radek had no friends, besides an overweight begging brother, and a twelve year old squire only recently upgraded from a wooden sword to a steel one.
"We are just riding north to King's Landing friend, Highgarden is along the way. That's all." We want no trouble.
They’d ended up with a recommendation for an inn instead of a duel. Radek counted it a win…
Until he saw the inn in question. What a dump.
The inn, like most of its construction, had a tavern at the first floor, and a second floor of tiny rooms. The inn’s owner had charged them an arm and a leg, what he called a “war premium.” He ignored any evidence Radek pointed to which suggested that, for one the war was all but over, and two, there had been no conflict south of Silver Hill.
He was not swayed.
When they had settled in, Jysten went to the stables to brush and feed the horses, and Renard went down stairs to wet his thirst. Radek sat on the bed of straw, and read the letter again.
My dearest Brother,
I fear for my immortal soul. I have made some bad decisions of late, and I fear that the consequences are more than I can bear.
I met a man. I know that I should have resisted the worldly temptations of this life, but he is a goodly man, and, in truth, I love him, although surely our brother would call it the worst kind of childish foolishness, I know in my heart that it is true love. It was born of folly, but when we taste the sweet fruit, we don’t think of the fertilizer, do we?
But it seems that even forbidden fruit draws flies, my dear Radek, and I fear that our forbidden love has done the same. If I am wrong than I will write you again soon. If I do not, than please try to remember me as you last saw me.
Your loving sister,
Willa.
The Far Reach knight could feel his cheeks burning, and his eyes were stinging from salty tears, as he folded the small letter up and tucked it back into his doublet. He blinked wetness from his eyes as he walked down the rickety stairway.
“Welcome back Radek,” said Renard, from his position about 8 inches off the ground, his robes in the two handed grip of their previous acquaintance.
“Your friend here was just telling us what he thought of us, “The Mander knight said, swinging Renard abruptly as he did so.
Renard balked. “All I did was quote the Oldtown saying, ‘I’d rather have 50,000 Dornishmen against me, than 60,000 Mandermen for me.” The begging brother said, slurring some of his words. The knight struck him with the back of his hand.
“He’s got a big mouth, but hit my friend again, and you’d wish you hadn’t.” Radek said calmly. The knight laughed, and dropped Renard on the ground, placing a hand on the hilt of his sword. Most of his cohort behind him did likewise, except for one large bald headed man on the Knight’s right, who smirked and crossed his hands over his chest.
“And what if I do?” The Mander knight exclaimed, pulling back and giving Renard a stiff kick with his iron shod boot.
Radek moved suddenly, planting one hobnailed boot square into barrel chest of the bald soldier while simultaneously grabbing the hilt of the man’s sword. The backward momentum of the man falling pulled the blade from its scabbard, and Radek stepped over Renard who was crawling away from the conflict in time to block a mace coming down from his left side.
“Son of a whore!” cried the Mander Knight, as he reached for his sword, but not before Radek bashed him hard in the face with the hilt of the sword he’d taken, sending the man stumbling backwards.
The soldier with the mace stepped forward, only to catch the flat of the blade across the throat, and go down gurgling for breath.
The Mander knight was coming fast now, his sword raised high. In his chainmail, against Radek in his tunic and breeches, the man would make short work of the Far Reach man.
“Mother’s Mercy!” came a stuttered drunken cry, and Renard came down from off the tavern bench, his staff held two handed like a great sword, as it smashed across the knight’s temple. He crumbled to the ground.
It got quiet, as the crowd stared at the two men.
“Fair fight? No one’s been killed.” Radek said, as he stared hard at the innkeep, who nodded. Just at that moment, Jysten reentered the Tavern, his jaw dropping as he saw the scene.
“Jysten, now would be a good time to saddle our horses.” Radek said.
“Ser?”
“Jysten… horses? Now.” Radek said. The boy gulped and ran back out the door to obey.
So much for the hospitality of Highgarden, Radek thought to himself.
Results:
Radek towards Master Sword
Radek to beginner unarmed combat
Renard to Apprentice Staff
“…like you've come looking for your mother." The Mander Knight, in his green and gold colors of the Tyrells. He was on foot, Radek was ahorse. That was in Radek’s favor. But then the Manderman had 10,000 friends in the city. Radek had no friends, besides an overweight begging brother, and a twelve year old squire only recently upgraded from a wooden sword to a steel one.
"We are just riding north to King's Landing friend, Highgarden is along the way. That's all." We want no trouble.
They’d ended up with a recommendation for an inn instead of a duel. Radek counted it a win…
Until he saw the inn in question. What a dump.
The inn, like most of its construction, had a tavern at the first floor, and a second floor of tiny rooms. The inn’s owner had charged them an arm and a leg, what he called a “war premium.” He ignored any evidence Radek pointed to which suggested that, for one the war was all but over, and two, there had been no conflict south of Silver Hill.
He was not swayed.
When they had settled in, Jysten went to the stables to brush and feed the horses, and Renard went down stairs to wet his thirst. Radek sat on the bed of straw, and read the letter again.
My dearest Brother,
I fear for my immortal soul. I have made some bad decisions of late, and I fear that the consequences are more than I can bear.
I met a man. I know that I should have resisted the worldly temptations of this life, but he is a goodly man, and, in truth, I love him, although surely our brother would call it the worst kind of childish foolishness, I know in my heart that it is true love. It was born of folly, but when we taste the sweet fruit, we don’t think of the fertilizer, do we?
But it seems that even forbidden fruit draws flies, my dear Radek, and I fear that our forbidden love has done the same. If I am wrong than I will write you again soon. If I do not, than please try to remember me as you last saw me.
Your loving sister,
Willa.
The Far Reach knight could feel his cheeks burning, and his eyes were stinging from salty tears, as he folded the small letter up and tucked it back into his doublet. He blinked wetness from his eyes as he walked down the rickety stairway.
“Welcome back Radek,” said Renard, from his position about 8 inches off the ground, his robes in the two handed grip of their previous acquaintance.
“Your friend here was just telling us what he thought of us, “The Mander knight said, swinging Renard abruptly as he did so.
Renard balked. “All I did was quote the Oldtown saying, ‘I’d rather have 50,000 Dornishmen against me, than 60,000 Mandermen for me.” The begging brother said, slurring some of his words. The knight struck him with the back of his hand.
“He’s got a big mouth, but hit my friend again, and you’d wish you hadn’t.” Radek said calmly. The knight laughed, and dropped Renard on the ground, placing a hand on the hilt of his sword. Most of his cohort behind him did likewise, except for one large bald headed man on the Knight’s right, who smirked and crossed his hands over his chest.
“And what if I do?” The Mander knight exclaimed, pulling back and giving Renard a stiff kick with his iron shod boot.
Radek moved suddenly, planting one hobnailed boot square into barrel chest of the bald soldier while simultaneously grabbing the hilt of the man’s sword. The backward momentum of the man falling pulled the blade from its scabbard, and Radek stepped over Renard who was crawling away from the conflict in time to block a mace coming down from his left side.
“Son of a whore!” cried the Mander Knight, as he reached for his sword, but not before Radek bashed him hard in the face with the hilt of the sword he’d taken, sending the man stumbling backwards.
The soldier with the mace stepped forward, only to catch the flat of the blade across the throat, and go down gurgling for breath.
The Mander knight was coming fast now, his sword raised high. In his chainmail, against Radek in his tunic and breeches, the man would make short work of the Far Reach man.
“Mother’s Mercy!” came a stuttered drunken cry, and Renard came down from off the tavern bench, his staff held two handed like a great sword, as it smashed across the knight’s temple. He crumbled to the ground.
It got quiet, as the crowd stared at the two men.
“Fair fight? No one’s been killed.” Radek said, as he stared hard at the innkeep, who nodded. Just at that moment, Jysten reentered the Tavern, his jaw dropping as he saw the scene.
“Jysten, now would be a good time to saddle our horses.” Radek said.
“Ser?”
“Jysten… horses? Now.” Radek said. The boy gulped and ran back out the door to obey.
So much for the hospitality of Highgarden, Radek thought to himself.
Results:
Radek towards Master Sword
Radek to beginner unarmed combat
Renard to Apprentice Staff