King Rodrick's Hunt

[The Smith]

Two days after the Melee King Rodrick gathers together most of his Twelve, and some other loyal followers, and invites all of the Nobles in King's Landing and then rides south. He wants to go on a great hunt, and will be staying at his hunting Lodge, Longview.

[The Smith]

Lord Horas Martell rode a bit back from the King, playing with the collar of his robe.

[Tristy]

Ephira trailed behind the young Prince of Dorne, fumbling with the reigns of her horse helplessly, though with a ferocious interest in the animal, and the contraption which linked them both together. She conversed in a low voice with the animal, which took advantage of her infamiliarity with riding by stopping every few meters for a snack in the brush.

[The Smith]

Other attendants of the Hunt.

Lord Patton Hogg and his beautiful wife, Adiana.

Ser Nellis Rambton and his companion, Olyvia Waters.

Lady Petra Bettley

Thadeus Thatcher and his two bodyguards

Ten of the Twelve, only Mallister and Smallwood do not ride with the group.

[The Smith]

Prince Horas bowed his head to Lord Brynden Royce, "I believe I have seen you at gatherings and the like. I can not imagine we have not spoken."

[Tallahar]

Kebra went along with as friend and Lord of Tumbleton. Whether he was there for the King or the Hunt was the question.

[Lord Rupert Trant]

Lord Rupert and his entourage also attended. Gabriel, his younger brother, whom had taken second in the Joust, rode smugly behind him. Ser Leonard Buckler was smiling, something obviously pleasing on his mind.

[Horas]

Lord Terrence rides with his friend Ser Jory Piper in the hunt. Spotting a young man with a hanged man sewn on his breast, Terrence directs his horse over to him.

"You must be a Trant," Terrence says conversationally, "I must say, I've always found your family's sigil a bit morbid. But I suppose the man with a flock of ravens and a dead tree for his house crest has no room to talk." Terrence smiles genially, "I'm Terrence Blackwood. Pleased to meet you."

[Imry Willfyre]

The Lord Hand rode behind the King and to his right, himself flanked by several retainers and friends, including Lord Barclay and Evander Storm, Breck's Captain of the Guard.

Breck wore the appropriate light armor for hunting, which failed to betray his supreme disinterest in the hunting event.

[Tallahar]

Kebra rode closer to the King, "Your Grace what animal are you hoping to find on this glorious hunt?"

[wookie]

Lord Wencel rode nearby with his young son, Wvyar. They both had short recurved dornish bows for the hunt and were lightly armoured. Robb Waters rode behind the pair, more equipped for battle than the hunt in his chain and plate armour and longsword.

The three did not speak much and Wencel watched the wood with interest, the trees in Dorne being much more sparse and wiry to survive the heat than those within the Kingswood

[Tristy]

Oct 27, 2008 19:28:25 GMT -5 @elane said:

When he saw a foreign-looking lady having trouble with her horse behind the Dornishman, Brynden bowed courteously from his saddle. "Are you having trouble, my lady?" he asked gently.

Ephira turned amicably to their new company, with a vague look of surprise on her face, as though she had suddenly realized where she was. Laughing happily, she answered "No trouble at all, Ser!" She spoke with an unmistakably Braavosi accent, "for all his frightening size and appearance, my friend here is really quite a gentle thing, though he does appear to be a bit of a binge eater," she shrugged, "I am not much of a rider, you know, but I couldn't pass the oppourtunity to embark on such a uniquely Westerosi adventure," she nodded slightly to herself as though satisfied with this answer, but was soon distracted by the enormity of a nearby tree. She sat back in her saddle and stared transfixed at the thing until she could no longer twist around far enough to see it.

[Tristy]

Ephira laughed as her attention was diverted from the massive tree, the likes of which were rare if existant at all on the rocky island of her birth, "But Ser, if you help me cheat, then I will never learn for real, will I? and if I should fall and break something, I will know what not to do the next time, won't I? Besides, when my friend speeds up, I will simly cling for dear life--that seems to serve me well most of the time. And anyway, I have incredibly strong thighs." she nodded again, oblivious to the potential impropriety of her remark. "Oh, but thank you," she added, remembering her manners, "It was a kind offer, and if I am knocked unconscious, I will give you my permission now to drag my inert body back to the city--is that a fair compromise?" she asked smilingly.

[Tristy]

Ephira gestured towards Prince Horas who had begun to converse with some men in front of them, "He had at least a dozen to choose from," she told Brynden, "This fellow here seemed so kind-hearted, I knew right-off we'd get along," the horse brayed in a low tone, and even appeared to flick her a look of irritation, flipping its tail restlessly. Ephira continued oblivious, "I should quite like lessons, really; I've been trying to learn the Westerosi culture, but most of it eludes me still," she shrugged, "What to you think, long-nose? Shall we give lessons a go?" she asked the horse, patting it on the head affectionately, as it tore off a small branch from a bush, and trotted along listlessly, utterly ignoring her question. Ephira nodded, "I think that means 'yes'." She smiled.

[Tristy]

Ephira nodded, "I am half Dornish," she answered, "Or part Dornish, at any rate--but I never knew a single thing about my mother's heritage. To be honest, I do not even know her name--But Prince Horas has agreed to help me learn about his culture. Our culture, I suppose," she babbled, "He has been most accombodating. Everyone has been, really. It's a wonder they say such things about your people in Braavos. Really, I don't think any of you smell particularly bad..." she thought on this a moment, before she turned to Brynden and smiled happily.