Post by The Smith on Nov 7, 2008 0:04:48 GMT -5
November 21, 545 A.C. ~
Gariss was sitting in his solar when he heard the news of the Horned Wolf coming back to the north. He wasn't surprised to hear that he had, nor that he would have swayed many to his cause. He was least surprised of all to find that he blamed Olander for the recent events. That he excused Gariss of blame.
They were friends, even still; just as Gariss would not hurt Rickon if he could help it.
He was ready for this however. Just like a game of pieces, he would counter Rickon's move, for he foresaw it. "Ready my garrison," he ordered his steward, who had delivered the news. "It's time to move."
November 27, 545 A.C.~
A force of 5000, under the command of Garriss Stark, leaves Winterfell and moves east, towards where the reports of the largest and more concentrated disloyalty to Stark was held.
His 'army', made up of mostly warriors, moved through the land. Their food supply train carried enough food to supply double their numbers, so a large part of the force was used moving that.
After days of travel, they come across the biggest village influenced by Rickon's words. At first, the village was afraid that Gariss had come, bent on destroying those who opposed him. Some were defiant and hard, staring at him as he rode into the town square. Some had fear in their eyes, some had eyes that yearned to beg. Women grabbed their children and man stood protectively in front.
This city was nearby the White Harbor, so some, not many, though some were not of Northern decent. None the less, they were his people.
Gariss, with his army camped a while outside the city, held a score of men with him, all standing around the raised platform in the middle of the town, used for speeches and executions. Some gathered around, as Gariss walked onto the stage, Zach behind and to the side. Most, however, stayed away, unsure, or just uncaring.
"My people!" Stark began, loud and clear raising his hands. At that moment, A wagon of food came out from each side behind the stage. The soldiers detatched the wagons from the oxen, and tipped the wagons over, spilling the bread, fruit, vegetables and even some wrapped meat across the cobblestone.
Almost immediately, this caused many people of the town, even the people who were hesitant, to rush forwards grabbing as much as they could carry, and rushing away to stock them in their homes. Some made as much as four trips before the wagons were empty. Gariss stood the whole time, above the wagons and the food, listening and watching the cries of need and urgency, as people tried to get as much as possible. He knew this.
When all of the commotion calmed down and the crowd grew to as large a size as he dared hope for, he began.
"My people!" he said once again, "I know what you have been told as of late. I know how you adore the man who was once King of Westeros. I know the man Rickon myself, and I am proud to say the man is a good friend of mine.
"However: I will say this, and you will hear it. He is not one of us. He may have lived up here, and he may have helped those in the gift; but he is not one of us. He may have converted to our gods, but he is not one of us. He aims to break our unity, and he has suceeded. Strenth lies in the unity of a kingdom; and I will not see our unity fall apart," he said, his voice sure, the words flowing unplanned.
"We. As one, went into the south twenty years ago. In the depth of winter, when we dare hope to see the next spring, the south called for our aid. Rickon called for our aid," Gariss said, powerfully. "And we went." he said, letting it linger. Everybody there was sure to remember the hardships that followed the sacrifice the north gave.
"Yes... we helped. We sacrificed the most of any kingdom, though ours was the least threatened. How were we repaid for this great kindness? With little support. An assassinated ruler. And a cold bitter winter, with fatherless families. We were paid no thanks, no token of appreciating. But...." he said, his voice falling to aquiet tone that encouraged people to listen to hear more.
"We endured. We worked together," he said, his voice raising again now. "Together. And even though the winter was strong, we were stronger, because we did not give up. The Old Gods watched over us and we endured."
"We will raise our banner of solidity, and show the rest of Westeros that those of the North will not bend to the whim of a southern king who kills his own servants for loyalty. Instead, we will prove the unity of the North in that every man, woman and child deserves their bread or cheese," he said, gesturing to the empty wagons. "We will show that as one people; as we had with so little people during the long winter and the savage war. We. Will. Endure!"
"That is what we must do now. The south and their gods have already hurt us with our sacrifices and our generositites, and they give nothing in return. They leech our power; but no more! We can and will stand together, as a united front, in the Kingdom of the Old Gods, where we need nobody but ourselves!" he cried out, inspiration flowing from his mouth.
"Toget-" he began to say, but a cry broke out from his right as a guard dove to reach out at three men already lunging at Gariss. Assassins. There were bound to be southerners here so close to White Harbor, but assassins?
Knives drawn, and murderous intent flowing from their faces, one dove for Gariss, while the other aimed to directly stab at him. His arm was a bloody mess before the lundge was finsihed; Zach's steel flashing through the air, cutting off two fingers, and knocking away the blow.
As the one assassin cried out, turning to face Zach, Gariss ducked low, where the failed assassin aimed to hit, as the other assassin swung high, his blade flashing through air where his neck was only seconds before.
His hand reflectively reached back, gripping the handle of Ice. He side stepped while crouched, coming up beside the lunging man, and drew Ice in a wide, powerful arc, as the blade sunk into the man's back. While the man fall dead and bleeding at his feet, people only began to realize what was happening. Gariss had no time to guage their reaction, for he was turning to meet the final assassin, as Zach toyed with the other assassin, who's hand was a bloody mess, though his dagger work was fine. The two sparred as Gariss faced off against the last assassin, throwing his cape back.
"Come on, then," he called as invitation. The assassin didn't need to be told twice, as he lundged, with surprisingly good form. Gariss cut at the man, but he backstepped, lunging forwards again, hoping to catch Gariss off guard; but he was too fast with Ice in hand for that.
Stepping back, Gariss brought Ice up on a backhand swing, cutting the man across the chest and face, killing him, though not immediately. When Gariss looked back to Zach, the third was just being taken down.
He stood there, breathing, as Zach killed the man on his feet, his body thumping to the floor. Gariss turned to look at shocked and pale faces of his audience. "You see?" he breathed, loud enough to hear. "You see?!" he asked again, a little furious now, with passion and a little blooddrunk and shocked himself.
"The south does not like our Old Gods. It is why they ripped out our Weirwoods long ago. They would kill me while I speak! They would kill me and cause strife among you. But I will not let it happen!" he cried out, his face reddening, his voice filled with fire. "We will show them how we endure!" He yelled, raising Ice above his head, as Zach looked down at the would-be assassins.
December 4, 545 A.C.~
Gariss Stark and his entourage continue to travel around the North, to both faithful and unsure villages, cities and towns. He gives closely the same speech, swaying each man one by one if he has to, filling them with the pride of the North; convincing them of their strength as one. Telling them that he will see that the North endures.
Results:
Gariss Stark converts many and more back to their previous loyal state.
Gariss Stark improves his respect and love in the eyes of few Northerners.
Gariss Stark improves to Noteworthy Oration
Gariss Stark improves to Master of the Sword.
Zach Faire improves towards Master of the Sword.
Gariss was sitting in his solar when he heard the news of the Horned Wolf coming back to the north. He wasn't surprised to hear that he had, nor that he would have swayed many to his cause. He was least surprised of all to find that he blamed Olander for the recent events. That he excused Gariss of blame.
They were friends, even still; just as Gariss would not hurt Rickon if he could help it.
He was ready for this however. Just like a game of pieces, he would counter Rickon's move, for he foresaw it. "Ready my garrison," he ordered his steward, who had delivered the news. "It's time to move."
November 27, 545 A.C.~
A force of 5000, under the command of Garriss Stark, leaves Winterfell and moves east, towards where the reports of the largest and more concentrated disloyalty to Stark was held.
His 'army', made up of mostly warriors, moved through the land. Their food supply train carried enough food to supply double their numbers, so a large part of the force was used moving that.
After days of travel, they come across the biggest village influenced by Rickon's words. At first, the village was afraid that Gariss had come, bent on destroying those who opposed him. Some were defiant and hard, staring at him as he rode into the town square. Some had fear in their eyes, some had eyes that yearned to beg. Women grabbed their children and man stood protectively in front.
This city was nearby the White Harbor, so some, not many, though some were not of Northern decent. None the less, they were his people.
Gariss, with his army camped a while outside the city, held a score of men with him, all standing around the raised platform in the middle of the town, used for speeches and executions. Some gathered around, as Gariss walked onto the stage, Zach behind and to the side. Most, however, stayed away, unsure, or just uncaring.
"My people!" Stark began, loud and clear raising his hands. At that moment, A wagon of food came out from each side behind the stage. The soldiers detatched the wagons from the oxen, and tipped the wagons over, spilling the bread, fruit, vegetables and even some wrapped meat across the cobblestone.
Almost immediately, this caused many people of the town, even the people who were hesitant, to rush forwards grabbing as much as they could carry, and rushing away to stock them in their homes. Some made as much as four trips before the wagons were empty. Gariss stood the whole time, above the wagons and the food, listening and watching the cries of need and urgency, as people tried to get as much as possible. He knew this.
When all of the commotion calmed down and the crowd grew to as large a size as he dared hope for, he began.
"My people!" he said once again, "I know what you have been told as of late. I know how you adore the man who was once King of Westeros. I know the man Rickon myself, and I am proud to say the man is a good friend of mine.
"However: I will say this, and you will hear it. He is not one of us. He may have lived up here, and he may have helped those in the gift; but he is not one of us. He may have converted to our gods, but he is not one of us. He aims to break our unity, and he has suceeded. Strenth lies in the unity of a kingdom; and I will not see our unity fall apart," he said, his voice sure, the words flowing unplanned.
"We. As one, went into the south twenty years ago. In the depth of winter, when we dare hope to see the next spring, the south called for our aid. Rickon called for our aid," Gariss said, powerfully. "And we went." he said, letting it linger. Everybody there was sure to remember the hardships that followed the sacrifice the north gave.
"Yes... we helped. We sacrificed the most of any kingdom, though ours was the least threatened. How were we repaid for this great kindness? With little support. An assassinated ruler. And a cold bitter winter, with fatherless families. We were paid no thanks, no token of appreciating. But...." he said, his voice falling to aquiet tone that encouraged people to listen to hear more.
"We endured. We worked together," he said, his voice raising again now. "Together. And even though the winter was strong, we were stronger, because we did not give up. The Old Gods watched over us and we endured."
"We will raise our banner of solidity, and show the rest of Westeros that those of the North will not bend to the whim of a southern king who kills his own servants for loyalty. Instead, we will prove the unity of the North in that every man, woman and child deserves their bread or cheese," he said, gesturing to the empty wagons. "We will show that as one people; as we had with so little people during the long winter and the savage war. We. Will. Endure!"
"That is what we must do now. The south and their gods have already hurt us with our sacrifices and our generositites, and they give nothing in return. They leech our power; but no more! We can and will stand together, as a united front, in the Kingdom of the Old Gods, where we need nobody but ourselves!" he cried out, inspiration flowing from his mouth.
"Toget-" he began to say, but a cry broke out from his right as a guard dove to reach out at three men already lunging at Gariss. Assassins. There were bound to be southerners here so close to White Harbor, but assassins?
Knives drawn, and murderous intent flowing from their faces, one dove for Gariss, while the other aimed to directly stab at him. His arm was a bloody mess before the lundge was finsihed; Zach's steel flashing through the air, cutting off two fingers, and knocking away the blow.
As the one assassin cried out, turning to face Zach, Gariss ducked low, where the failed assassin aimed to hit, as the other assassin swung high, his blade flashing through air where his neck was only seconds before.
His hand reflectively reached back, gripping the handle of Ice. He side stepped while crouched, coming up beside the lunging man, and drew Ice in a wide, powerful arc, as the blade sunk into the man's back. While the man fall dead and bleeding at his feet, people only began to realize what was happening. Gariss had no time to guage their reaction, for he was turning to meet the final assassin, as Zach toyed with the other assassin, who's hand was a bloody mess, though his dagger work was fine. The two sparred as Gariss faced off against the last assassin, throwing his cape back.
"Come on, then," he called as invitation. The assassin didn't need to be told twice, as he lundged, with surprisingly good form. Gariss cut at the man, but he backstepped, lunging forwards again, hoping to catch Gariss off guard; but he was too fast with Ice in hand for that.
Stepping back, Gariss brought Ice up on a backhand swing, cutting the man across the chest and face, killing him, though not immediately. When Gariss looked back to Zach, the third was just being taken down.
He stood there, breathing, as Zach killed the man on his feet, his body thumping to the floor. Gariss turned to look at shocked and pale faces of his audience. "You see?" he breathed, loud enough to hear. "You see?!" he asked again, a little furious now, with passion and a little blooddrunk and shocked himself.
"The south does not like our Old Gods. It is why they ripped out our Weirwoods long ago. They would kill me while I speak! They would kill me and cause strife among you. But I will not let it happen!" he cried out, his face reddening, his voice filled with fire. "We will show them how we endure!" He yelled, raising Ice above his head, as Zach looked down at the would-be assassins.
December 4, 545 A.C.~
Gariss Stark and his entourage continue to travel around the North, to both faithful and unsure villages, cities and towns. He gives closely the same speech, swaying each man one by one if he has to, filling them with the pride of the North; convincing them of their strength as one. Telling them that he will see that the North endures.
Results:
Gariss Stark converts many and more back to their previous loyal state.
Gariss Stark improves his respect and love in the eyes of few Northerners.
Gariss Stark improves to Noteworthy Oration
Gariss Stark improves to Master of the Sword.
Zach Faire improves towards Master of the Sword.