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Post by Horas on Oct 27, 2008 13:23:40 GMT -5
A broad-shouldered and bearded man in the colors of House Blackwood leans against a wall in the courtyard. His auburn haired companion sharpens his sword idley; both are watching the brewing confrontation with growing interest.
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Post by Fel on Oct 27, 2008 13:28:04 GMT -5
Wulf laughed and winked at Graceford, "if everyone agreed with you about what was right and good, this life would be dull beyond belief."
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Post by The Flint on Oct 27, 2008 13:31:30 GMT -5
Graceford looked to Osney, and than back to one of the men-at-arms in the corner, who nodded silently.
"There's truth in that I suppose Ser Wulf." He said grudgingly.
Osney nodded more assertively, "aye, let us leave the past for now, it's foul territory."
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Post by Fel on Oct 27, 2008 13:35:51 GMT -5
Wulf nodded, "and what better fucking place to relieve frustrations after that than the training yard. Think you two legends can take me and Old Nors here?"
Nors grinned. "Perhaps Santagar wants revenge for being removed from the melee," he said.
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Post by The Flint on Oct 27, 2008 13:43:44 GMT -5
Osney seemed to think on the matter for longer than should have been necessary.
"Aye, alright, I suppose we have time for a quick match."
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Post by Fel on Oct 27, 2008 15:25:29 GMT -5
Wulf coughs on the ground, trying to regain his breath after the blow to his thoat. Nors sits up and rubs his face, "s'pose I have to lose somtimes," he said pained.
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Post by The Flint on Oct 27, 2008 15:29:38 GMT -5
Osney extended a hand to Ser Wulf, while Graceford did the same for Nors.
"Well fought gentlemen." Osney said with an exuberant smile. "It was a worthy contest and might have gone the other way just as easily."
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Post by Fel on Oct 27, 2008 15:45:44 GMT -5
Wulf stood, took the hand and pulled himself up. "Aye," he rasped slightly, "we'll have to go again sometime and try and save some face." He coughed.
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Post by The Flint on Oct 27, 2008 15:57:46 GMT -5
"Aye, we will have to." Osney said nodding. Graceford nodded curtly.
"Lord Royce, what brings you to this neck of the woods?" Osney said gesturing with the point of his blunted sword.
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Post by Fel on Oct 27, 2008 17:09:15 GMT -5
"Brother," Wulf said to Brynden, "Santagar is being far too smug about beating us. See if you can't wipe the smile from his face."
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Post by The Flint on Oct 27, 2008 17:11:50 GMT -5
Santagar raised his hands, "I fear I must decline for now, I am of no mood to strike a Royce." Osney grinned, "But I'm sure your half-brother and his friends are more than capable of providing a work out."
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Post by Fel on Oct 27, 2008 18:24:16 GMT -5
The old warrior chuckled, "that hair's breadth saved you from a fate worse than what Rockjaw gave you, then. Come Royce, I enjoy knocking down lords."
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Post by The Flint on Oct 28, 2008 9:27:36 GMT -5
A young page approaches the men around Santagar and Graceford, and whispers something to one of the men-at-arms in the rear. He nods, and waves to the two knights, and the whole group departs rapidly and without a word.
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Post by Lord Rhaegar Targaryen on Oct 28, 2008 13:49:58 GMT -5
Ser Galahad arrives in their place, and begins to watch as the Lord and the Master at Arms prepare to fight. He smirks slightly at the young Royce's valor, as he had fought Santgar a fair amount of times over the years, and knew his prowess.
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Post by Horas on Oct 28, 2008 14:01:52 GMT -5
Daeron winces as Brynden is knocked insensate, then rises from his place near the wall, a weighted wooden flail in his hand. "Ironman!" he shouts to Nors, "Think you can handle another challenger today?"
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Hope you all are well and happy.