Pre-Battle Feast at Horn Hill

[The Flint]

All the captains of the Far Reach have been assembled for a feast to raise spirits prior to the battle. Lord Justin Hightower sits at the head table, besides Lord Robb Tarly and his wife. At the front table nearest the dais is Lord Cyrus Varner, Loren Irwyn, Dorian Florent, and the representative of Lord Redwyne, Jayk. Ser Samuel is invited to join them, as the son of their host. Derick Cuy is there as well, as the High Marshal of the Army. Below the salt sit the less knightly houses. Two cups of wine have been allotted from the stores, and the meal will be three courses, consisting first of a selection of cheeses, followed by a split pea soup, and as main course, flank steak stew with sauteed potatoes, carrots, onions and leeks.

Lord Robb Tarly stands, and welcomes everyone to share his meat and mead.

[Lord Gaspard Yronwood]

Ser Geoffrey 'Dead' Flowers picks at his food, imagining his lost comrades dying on the field as the ravens pick out their eyes.

[Sam]

Ser Samuel Tarly arrives at the feast late, still garbed in dusty riding leathers. The scent of blood and sweat and smoke are ingrained into his clothing, although a wide smile stretches across his face. He takes a seat between his father and Lord Varner, draining a glass of wine as he does so. "Forgive my appearance, my lords, my men and I only just arrived back from the Manderlands." He sliced himself a large hunk of cheese and broke apart a loaf of bread in his hands before taking a bite. "Foraging is hungry work, I will say," he added, with his mouth full, "but I daresay there are many men in the Mander hungrier than I thanks to our work. With any luck, most of them will be Tyrell's soldiers"

[Quenton Baratheon]

Lord Tomas Bulwer is drunk already, in a much similar state to how his father was on the night he died all those years ago. That thought is far away from him now however as he joins in with all the fun and festivities.

He raises his tankard to Lord Tarly, his old friend, emitting drunken cheers and blubbered thanks.

[The Flint]

Cyrus laughed, "Aye, I was told we had you to thank for this meal Ser Samuel." the Lord Weasel said grinning, "even their food tastes better when eaten from our tables." He raised his cup to Tarly in salute.

[Sam]

"Aye. I found a cache of wine from Goldengrove in one of their towns, and was tempted to take it but that swill cannot compare with a good Arbor vintage so I used it as fuel for the fires, although they did not need it much. Still, a fortnight of riding up and down the river will exhaust a man; I hope we have some time to rest before the battle is joined."

[The Flint]

Ser Jaime Appleton put his arm around Bulwer's shoulder. "Hey Lord Tomas, do you want my share too? I've a watch later tonight and can't be drinking."

[The Flint]

Nov 10, 2008 14:42:13 GMT -5 Sam said:

"Aye. I found a cache of wine from Goldengrove in one of their towns, and was tempted to take it but that swill cannot compare with a good Arbor vintage so I used it as fuel for the fires, although they did not need it much. Still, a fortnight of riding up and down the river will exhaust a man; I hope we have some time to rest before the battle is joined."

"Aye, you'll have time enough I wager. They'll call all their banners first, and sit around buggering each other for a good while, before they get down to crossing the river." Cyrus laughed.

[Sam]

Samuel laughed, and raised his glass, toasting the stupidity of the Manderlords

[Lord Gaspard Yronwood]

The Black Bard of the Abyss, prioclaiming himself the greatest singer of his people, pulls out a mandolin decorated with the bones of his ancestors and begins to play a somewhat fast-paced rendition of The Rains of Castamere. Whilst he picks the notes, he glares about in his white-faced makeup and rocks his head back and forth in the strange mystical gyrations that often accompany his concerts.

[Sam]

Samuel stares at the musician, dumbfounded, waiting for his father's guards to escort the man out of the Hall.

[Quenton Baratheon]

Nov 10, 2008 14:42:23 GMT -5 The Flint said:

Ser Jaime Appleton put his arm around Bulwer's shoulder. "Hey Lord Tomas, do you want my share too? I've a watch later tonight and can't be drinking."

Tomas looked at the arm on his shoulder then slowly turned to face the man. His eyelids were droopy and his mouth agape. "Why thhank you. Thank you verry verrry much! You do me.... great honour! good ser... great honour!"

He took the drink with both hands, both wavering.... and promptly dropped it. He looked down at it on the floor with a nonplussed vacant expression.

[The Flint]

The knights begin to loudly boo. Someone throws a potato at the Bard.

"FUCK the Lannisters!" another one says.

"Sing something about a maiden!" yelled a hedge knight.

"With big tits!" his friend added.

[Horas]

The biggest problem with the Reach splitting in two so many years ago, Symond reflected, was that all the traditional songs still honored the Tyrells. Even when the Hightowers were kings in their own right, during the Age of Heroes, they had remained aloof and isolated in that tall tower of theirs. The policy made for good politics, perhaps, but rather dreary songs.

The old bard plucked a string on his lute for inspiration, then smiled and began playing the opening notes to an old drinking song he had learned in Varner lands. "Come now, my friends, sing along!" he shouts, then launches into the chorus.

[Ser Kenneth Coyn]

Loren sat quietly near his brother Dorian, though the elder Irwyn ate little and spoke even less. He did not like the idea of having to kill other Reachmen, although he knew that he had little choice in the matter.

Dorian was more cheerful, discussing in great detail some forgotten memoir of the First Battle of Horn Hill with the Maester.