Post by Horas on Nov 13, 2008 14:57:50 GMT -5
Ser Samuel Tarly rode at the head of a long column of men, though it was only a fraction of the troops from Horn Hill. Five hundred mounted knights and two thousand foot marched behind him, heading east, toward Nightsong. The Dornish had been stirring in their passes, and since Lord Dondarrion had inexplicably decided to march five hundred miles across hostile territory, it had been left to Ser Samuel to reinforce Nightsong, in order to ensure that Horn Hill could not be flanked by a Dornish army.
Samuel’s left hand rested on the pommel of his sword, which was simply designed and functional, rather than ornate. While his father’s sword, Fury, was too long to be called a longsword, and could be more considered a hand-and-a-half sword, Samuel’s blade was a true longsword, balanced perfectly for one handed use with a shield. Beside Samuel, rode Ryam Flowers the young squire who had so daringly snuck into the Mander to retrieve it.
“So I said to ‘im ‘We’re messengers from Highgarden,’ righ’, and the bugger reads your note, and lets us in through the gates!” Ryam was saying with a laugh. “There couldn’t ‘ave been more than ten soldiers in the whole place, and I thought I’d ‘ave to go sneaking around, but the bloody Mandermen practically did the job for me,” he continued.
“They brough’ us to Lady Falgrave, and it was just there, sitting up on a shelf in her solar, so me an’ Timm jus’ ‘ad to sneak in that night, and made off with it like nothing at all. Timm had found a spot on the walls what was un-guarded, so he took it righ’ up there and tossed it down to our buddies waiting outside the walls, and me an’ him just rode out the next morning. They couldn’ ‘ave suspected a thing,” Ryam said, still laughing.
A grin stretched across Samuel’s face as he heard the story, and he was glad that the young man had not been put in any real danger while doing his work. “I cannot thank you enough, Ryam, I have long dreamed of my family’s legacy being returned to us. If you like, I can make you a knight as you certainly deserve it. Why Cyrus has not done so is beyond me,” he said.
“I never cared much about the title, Ser,” Ryam said casually, “Although I will not decline your offer. I suppose I will have to spend some time in Nightsong’s Septry, when we get there,” he added with a smile.
When the small Reach army arrived at Nightsong half a fortnight later, they found it already a bustling military camp, which should not have been a surprise as it guarded one of two passes out of Dorne into the Stormlands. Samuel camped his men under the castle’s walls, near the south gates. They could move from there to either seal the pass against an army, or they could retreat back into the castle to hold out if a force too large tried to invade.
He stalked the makeshift training yard that had been set up, and he spied sparring with a knight in Lord Caron’s service. Ser Samuel called out to his friend, and Ryam missed a parry and took the flat of a sword to his neck. He dropped to the ground and shot Samuel a dirty look.
The knight of Horn Hill walked over and helped the younger man to his feet, his face showing no expression apart from the slight upturned corners of his mouth. “Lighten up Ryam. There are still things to laugh about, even in such times. Spar with me, I will not manhandle you so badly.” He laughed again, and drew his blade, the sun’s rays reflecting off the dark rippled blade, showing its true quality. Ryam Flowers frowned, and drew his own sword, eying the Valyrian longsword.
“Do you really have to use that sword, Ser? It’ll make piecemeal of my blade,” he said, but shifted into a fighting stance anyway. The two began to trade blows, slowly at first. The steel rang out on steel as the two swords met and bounced away.
“It’s not that bad Ryam, besides, we both need the practice,” Samuel said as they sparred. Both men were moving at an exaggeratedly slow pace, due to the live steel in their hands. Neither wanted to maim or kill the other, but both knew it was more beneficial to one’s skills to practice with the real thing than with blunted versions. They slowly began to speed up, spinning around and striking at each other, but appearing to be evenly matched.
Ser Samuel launched a flurry of blows, and caught them all on his sword. On the last strike the two came close, and the knight leaned in above the crossed swords. “Watch this,” he whispered, and spun around to his right, slicing out at Ryam’s leg. The squire blocked the blow, but by then Samuel had gotten slightly behind him, and kicked him in the back of his left knee. Ryam went down onto his knees, his sword sent spinning across the yard. Samuel’s sword rested on his shoulder, the dark rippled steel gleaming in the sunlight.
Samuel laughed, and sheathed his sword, allowing Ryam to retrieve his own blade. They then picked up blunted weapons and began to fight again. By the time an hour had passed, both were sweaty and tired when they adjourned, and when they parted Ryam paused and turned back towards the knight. “If I inspect my blade and find any cracks, you’ll be buying me a new one,” he called back with a grin, before leaving to make his way back to his tent, while Ser Samuel headed back toward the castle proper to speak with Lord Caron
Ser Samuel Tarly improves toward Grandmaster Swordsman
Ser Samuel Tarly improves to Novice Unarmed Combat
Ryam Flowers improves to Master Sword
Ryam Flowers improves to Master Espionage
Ser Samuel Tarly and 2,500 Reach soldiers arrive at Nightsong to reinforce the castle at Lord Dondarrion’s request
Samuel’s left hand rested on the pommel of his sword, which was simply designed and functional, rather than ornate. While his father’s sword, Fury, was too long to be called a longsword, and could be more considered a hand-and-a-half sword, Samuel’s blade was a true longsword, balanced perfectly for one handed use with a shield. Beside Samuel, rode Ryam Flowers the young squire who had so daringly snuck into the Mander to retrieve it.
“So I said to ‘im ‘We’re messengers from Highgarden,’ righ’, and the bugger reads your note, and lets us in through the gates!” Ryam was saying with a laugh. “There couldn’t ‘ave been more than ten soldiers in the whole place, and I thought I’d ‘ave to go sneaking around, but the bloody Mandermen practically did the job for me,” he continued.
“They brough’ us to Lady Falgrave, and it was just there, sitting up on a shelf in her solar, so me an’ Timm jus’ ‘ad to sneak in that night, and made off with it like nothing at all. Timm had found a spot on the walls what was un-guarded, so he took it righ’ up there and tossed it down to our buddies waiting outside the walls, and me an’ him just rode out the next morning. They couldn’ ‘ave suspected a thing,” Ryam said, still laughing.
A grin stretched across Samuel’s face as he heard the story, and he was glad that the young man had not been put in any real danger while doing his work. “I cannot thank you enough, Ryam, I have long dreamed of my family’s legacy being returned to us. If you like, I can make you a knight as you certainly deserve it. Why Cyrus has not done so is beyond me,” he said.
“I never cared much about the title, Ser,” Ryam said casually, “Although I will not decline your offer. I suppose I will have to spend some time in Nightsong’s Septry, when we get there,” he added with a smile.
When the small Reach army arrived at Nightsong half a fortnight later, they found it already a bustling military camp, which should not have been a surprise as it guarded one of two passes out of Dorne into the Stormlands. Samuel camped his men under the castle’s walls, near the south gates. They could move from there to either seal the pass against an army, or they could retreat back into the castle to hold out if a force too large tried to invade.
He stalked the makeshift training yard that had been set up, and he spied sparring with a knight in Lord Caron’s service. Ser Samuel called out to his friend, and Ryam missed a parry and took the flat of a sword to his neck. He dropped to the ground and shot Samuel a dirty look.
The knight of Horn Hill walked over and helped the younger man to his feet, his face showing no expression apart from the slight upturned corners of his mouth. “Lighten up Ryam. There are still things to laugh about, even in such times. Spar with me, I will not manhandle you so badly.” He laughed again, and drew his blade, the sun’s rays reflecting off the dark rippled blade, showing its true quality. Ryam Flowers frowned, and drew his own sword, eying the Valyrian longsword.
“Do you really have to use that sword, Ser? It’ll make piecemeal of my blade,” he said, but shifted into a fighting stance anyway. The two began to trade blows, slowly at first. The steel rang out on steel as the two swords met and bounced away.
“It’s not that bad Ryam, besides, we both need the practice,” Samuel said as they sparred. Both men were moving at an exaggeratedly slow pace, due to the live steel in their hands. Neither wanted to maim or kill the other, but both knew it was more beneficial to one’s skills to practice with the real thing than with blunted versions. They slowly began to speed up, spinning around and striking at each other, but appearing to be evenly matched.
Ser Samuel launched a flurry of blows, and caught them all on his sword. On the last strike the two came close, and the knight leaned in above the crossed swords. “Watch this,” he whispered, and spun around to his right, slicing out at Ryam’s leg. The squire blocked the blow, but by then Samuel had gotten slightly behind him, and kicked him in the back of his left knee. Ryam went down onto his knees, his sword sent spinning across the yard. Samuel’s sword rested on his shoulder, the dark rippled steel gleaming in the sunlight.
Samuel laughed, and sheathed his sword, allowing Ryam to retrieve his own blade. They then picked up blunted weapons and began to fight again. By the time an hour had passed, both were sweaty and tired when they adjourned, and when they parted Ryam paused and turned back towards the knight. “If I inspect my blade and find any cracks, you’ll be buying me a new one,” he called back with a grin, before leaving to make his way back to his tent, while Ser Samuel headed back toward the castle proper to speak with Lord Caron
Ser Samuel Tarly improves toward Grandmaster Swordsman
Ser Samuel Tarly improves to Novice Unarmed Combat
Ryam Flowers improves to Master Sword
Ryam Flowers improves to Master Espionage
Ser Samuel Tarly and 2,500 Reach soldiers arrive at Nightsong to reinforce the castle at Lord Dondarrion’s request