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Post by The Flint on Sept 1, 2008 18:21:16 GMT -5
The woman raised her eyebrow, and made a show of counting on her fingers, trying to figure out the three beaks.
"Alright darling. Let me get you something." She disappeared, only to return a short while later with another ale.
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Post by Ollie on Sept 2, 2008 0:09:43 GMT -5
Dunnock smiled to the wench, and smiled at the ale in turn, and was all too happy to indulge himself. "Ahh, warm an' with lots of head," he said, wiping the white foam from his mustache. "Jes' like I likes 'em."
With a wider grin, the hedge knight patted his lap, whatever animosity he felt earlier disappeared. "Now c'mere lassie, keep a brave war 'ero like meself company, hm? There's a couple o' stags in it fer ye," he said, reaching into a coin pouch and producing two silver stags, many more visible within.
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Post by The Flint on Sept 2, 2008 0:14:00 GMT -5
The woman almost melted onto him, curling up with all the authority of a house cat on its owner's lap.
"Oooh... you're a war hero are you?" she cooed, "Where did you serve?"
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Post by Ollie on Sept 2, 2008 0:20:04 GMT -5
"Right damn 'ere!" he declared proudly, pounding the table with his palm. "I was one of 'em stupid bastards stayed right damn 'ere to 'old th'city wiff Lord Benfry, Seven bless 'im."
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Post by The Flint on Sept 2, 2008 0:24:45 GMT -5
"Lord Benfry was a great hero, how did you serve such a harrowing situation? Your big strong back pressed up against the wall like that, you must have thought you were surely dead."
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Post by Ollie on Sept 2, 2008 0:34:04 GMT -5
Ser Dunnock slipped one of the silver stags down the front of the wench's bodice, and let his hand linger for a moment. "Survived by me brain, me blade, and me board," he affirmed, gesturing to his noggin, sword, and shield in turn. "Yep, when 'em basilisks were charging the last few o' us down, screaming like all kinds of 'ellfire an' swinging their black blades in th'air, ain't much a man of us could do but grit our teeth and cut 'em down, one by one."
"I even took on one o' there champions meself, bird t' beast. I only let him cut me once 'afore I killed 'im," he boasted, tugging down the shoulder of his tunic, showing her the deep, wicked slice across the shoulder cuff on his shield arm.
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Post by The Flint on Sept 2, 2008 0:36:05 GMT -5
"If I were you I wouldn't have allowed him to cut me at all. Lord Benfry died, how did you survive? Where you taken captured, shackled and lashed by those cruel reptiles?" She said, all smiles.
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Post by Ollie on Sept 2, 2008 0:46:39 GMT -5
"I 'ad to let 'im cut me, me sweet dove. Each scar is a memory, an' each memory is a lesson," he said as sagely as a man half in his cups could muster.
His mood dropped at the mention of Benfry's death, and Ser Dunnock nodded slowly. "Aye, he did die, lassie. In th'battle, 'ee got sep'rated from our band. While 'is was makin' their last stand, the men leadin' us found a way out, and we 'scaped the city. Can't say I'm proud o' turnin' my tail feathers and runnin', but it's what happened in the 'eat o' battle."
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Post by The Flint on Sept 2, 2008 0:49:07 GMT -5
"But there were so many enemies in the city, and all over the red keep, how could you ever get away without them seeing you?" The girl ground a little harder than was necessary into Dunnock's lap.
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Post by Ollie on Sept 2, 2008 1:19:48 GMT -5
Dunnock ground just as hard back. It was entirely necessary.
"I... Well... I don't rightly recall. T'was a bloodbath, a flurry of a battle. I jes' followed the man in front of me, an' kept me sword swingin'."
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Post by The Flint on Sept 2, 2008 1:23:25 GMT -5
The girl pouted, "Oh, I see how it is, Old war buddies can hear the story, but not innocent little me huh? Well maybe I'm not as innocent as you think." She said, nibbling his earlobe, as her perfume hung delicately in Dunnock's nostrils.
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Post by Ollie on Sept 2, 2008 12:47:22 GMT -5
"Aye? Does tha' make ye wicked then, mm?" he growled with a chuckle, letting his hands roam places one normally wouldn't in polite company.
This of course, was not polite company.
"T'was wiff Ser Templeton, an' Ser Osney. An' that Royce boy, broke 'is jaw. It may be t'were others too, but them were the rightly brave ones, present company not excluded, o'course. Templeton... Or was it Osney? Either way, one of 'em led us down a pathway, into th'darkness. Don't know 'ow, but we came up on the right side o'the walls."
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Post by The Flint on Sept 2, 2008 15:14:35 GMT -5
With the delicacy of a surgeon, she guided his hands away.
"Seems that's some high-minded company for a hedge knight such as yourself."
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Post by Ollie on Sept 3, 2008 12:21:02 GMT -5
With the delicacy of a melee tourney, he put them back.
"I c'n be rightly 'igh-minded when it comes down to it, me dove. True too, a knight don't get t'choose who 'ee fights wiff inna battle. There was right cursed demons everywhere, an' in the chaos, thems th'ones fought next t'me."
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Post by The Flint on Sept 3, 2008 12:58:24 GMT -5
"Ah. Well it happens i know Ser Templeton. Good man." She says. "A lot of work available for good knights."
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