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Post by Sam on Dec 5, 2008 1:11:51 GMT -5
The Lord Commander made a disgusted sound in his throat. "You and you, calm her down and find out any pertinent information," he said, pointing at the maester and the other black brother in the room. He nodded for the First Ranger to follow him, and strode from the room heading toward his tower with long strides.
"I don't know how much we can trust a hysterical woman for information, but we'll obviously need to send out scouts just in case. Even if it's not wildlings it might be fucking Evergreen's," he spat the word out, an ugly look crossing his face, "deserters, in which case we'll introduce them to the Stranger.
"She came from the southwest, so that'll be our best bet, take fifteen riders and go see what you can find, come back in half a fortnight if you find nothing."
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Post by Horas on Dec 5, 2008 1:19:44 GMT -5
"Aye, will do," Cracker says. He salutes smartly and hurries off.
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Post by The Flint on Dec 5, 2008 9:07:57 GMT -5
Halgar Burley and his son Robb meet again with the First Steward.
"We'll have our trade now? What's all this commotion been about?"
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Post by Horas on Dec 8, 2008 18:07:29 GMT -5
"Aye, the supplies have arrived," the First Steward says. He seems distracted. "Word is there are wildlings south of the Wall."
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Post by The Flint on Dec 8, 2008 18:13:21 GMT -5
"Curses. We'll need to watch our route back than. We thank you for your help and good trade." Halgar said. He gestured to Robb and the other men, as they begin to prepare for the route south.
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Post by The Flint on Dec 9, 2008 9:25:02 GMT -5
///////////////////////////
A strong looking young man clad in brigantine and armed with a long bearded axe slung over his shoulder and a dirk in his belt leads a small group to the gates of Castle Black. With him, a young woman in a rabbit fur cloak, her green eyes surveying the castle with care. They are followed by another man, who wears boiled leather armor underneath a jerkin of sheepskin. A short sword hangs from his belt without a scabbard, and on his back is a small shield, painted blue and white, with the symbol of the Burleys. Four other armed men stand with them. Another man, in other colors, stands nearby.
"HAIL! I am Ondrew Burley, of the Burley Clan! I would speak with his Lordship right away! We have urgent news!"
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Post by westerosi on Dec 9, 2008 9:41:46 GMT -5
Hamish stood dressed in a studded leather armor underneath a bear-fur jerkin. He stood a way behind, letting Ondrew do the talking, resting on his spear.
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Post by Sam on Dec 9, 2008 11:13:07 GMT -5
A black brother comes down to see the clansmen, looking bewildered and hurried. "Urgent news?" he asked, as he jogged up to them. "What urgent news?"
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Post by The Flint on Dec 9, 2008 11:35:58 GMT -5
Ondrew examined the crow carefully.
"Are you the Lord Commander?" He said, doubtfully.
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Post by Sam on Dec 9, 2008 12:02:57 GMT -5
"No. Who are you?" He squinted at the man's shield, not recognizing the sigil.
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Post by The Flint on Dec 9, 2008 12:19:51 GMT -5
Ondrew gritted his teeth. He hated repeating himself. "I'm Ondrew Burley, of the Burleys of the Lonely Hills! Sworn to Winterfell! We have news for the Lord Commander!"
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Post by Sam on Dec 9, 2008 12:49:12 GMT -5
"Aye, then," the man said, reluctantly, and led the pair up to the Lord Commander's tower. The Burleys entered Lord Farman's solar to find it brightly lit, though sparsely decorated, the walls lined with bookshelves. In the center sat a large mahogany desk with several wooden, straight-backed chairs facing the front while one equally uncomfortable looking chair sat on the other side. Across the desk was stretched a huge map of the Wall and the Gift, so long that it touched the floor on either side of the desk.
The Lord Commander stood by the western window staring out it with a fierce expression on his face. He looked over when the two men entered his solar, and frowned.
"A Burley... What news do you have for me?" he asked simply.
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Post by The Flint on Dec 9, 2008 12:53:29 GMT -5
Ondrew bowed his head respectfully.
"Lord Commander, as you know there are Wildlings raiding below the wall. We have reason to believe that this is more than common raiding. I believe there is, or soon will be, A King-Beyond the Wall." He frowned, not quite sure how to explain to a southron, how he knows these things.
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Post by Sam on Dec 9, 2008 13:04:05 GMT -5
"That's the urgent news you were shouting about?" Farman said doubtfully. He eyed the clansman suspiciously, and his frown deepened a little.
"I suppose that could be important," he said with a sigh, "but not nearly so much so as the fact that they've been south of the Wall and we can't find them. I was hoping you might have something about that," he added a little sheepishly.
"My First Ranger swears they must have gone over, because their trail ends at the Wall, at a spot three miles west of here, but I don't see how they could have gotten past the patrols so close to Castle Black."
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Post by The Flint on Dec 9, 2008 13:10:15 GMT -5
"with jaws dripping with foamy slaver, the old wolf gathers his pack to strike!" said the small young woman behind Ondrew, the outline of her body still visible beneath her rabbit furred cloak. She raised bare arms over her head as she continued, "They gather, with villainous intent, looking for prey."
Ondrew cleared his throat.
"My wife is of the old ways." He said, almost apologetically, " She sees much which is hidden from others. Things that will be. And I believe what she sees is a great force of Wildlings gathering to invade beneath the wall. Greater perhaps than that raised by the old Benjen Stark who was smashed on the Milkwater."
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Hope you all are well and happy.