|
|
Post by Horas on Dec 12, 2008 14:45:26 GMT -5
By Westerosi standards, Hardhome is a tiny town, its buildings constructed mostly from wood and hide. It is the largest permanent settlement north of the Wall, however, and a common place for the Free Folk to come together to meet or trade.
A great army is gathered around the small town. Campfires burn as far as the eye can see.
|
|
|
|
Post by Ollie on Dec 12, 2008 15:04:41 GMT -5
The hooded man trudges through the surrounding wilderness towards the hive of activity, looking out for for any troublesome characters beneath the fringe of his hood. Enveloped inside his cloak against the cold, he heads for the center of the encampment.
|
|
|
|
Post by Horas on Dec 12, 2008 15:20:14 GMT -5
The hooded man is largely ignored. Dimunitive Hornfoot men rub shoulders with cannibals from the icey shores and raiders who live a stone's throw from the Wall itself. The camp is far larger than the Crowbane's.
|
|
|
|
Post by Ollie on Dec 12, 2008 15:21:45 GMT -5
Through the disorganization and activity, Olivan does his best to navigate through the encampment to its heart, hoping to find another self-proclaimed king.
|
|
|
|
Post by Horas on Dec 12, 2008 15:26:29 GMT -5
Olivan spies a large white tent in the center of the encampment, undoubtably for the commander of the army. Guards with good steel weapons ring this area, and as Olivan comes closer he is stopped.
"What do you want?" one asks.
|
|
|
|
Post by Ollie on Dec 12, 2008 15:30:14 GMT -5
"I am here to speak with King Tarlan," he declared. "I am not expected, but he shall wish to see me none the less."
|
|
|
|
Post by Horas on Dec 12, 2008 15:35:28 GMT -5
"He's not here," the wildling says, looking bored.
|
|
|
|
Post by Ollie on Dec 12, 2008 15:36:25 GMT -5
"Then tell me where he is, so I can be gone."
|
|
|
|
Post by Horas on Dec 12, 2008 15:37:43 GMT -5
"You think I know?" the man asks. "Get lost."
|
|
|
|
Post by Ollie on Dec 13, 2008 1:25:30 GMT -5
"I wasn't asking you. I was instructing you," he says with no small tone. "Tell me where the king is or you'll find yourself hanging over a cookfire for the man-eaters because you were buggered so far up your ass with a spear that it came out your mouth."
|
|
|
|
Post by Horas on Dec 13, 2008 2:17:10 GMT -5
"I just fucking told you, I don't know," the wildling says. "Now are you going to fuck off or do you want to settle this with steel?"
|
|
|
|
Post by Ollie on Dec 13, 2008 2:19:35 GMT -5
"You either find someone who knows where he is," the hooded man commanded, "Or you stand aside and let me in the tent."
|
|
|
|
Post by Horas on Dec 13, 2008 2:22:19 GMT -5
The man lifts his axe ominously. "He's not here, and fuck if I'm going to let you into his tent while he's away."
|
|
|
|
Post by Ollie on Dec 13, 2008 2:24:18 GMT -5
Olivan jabs a thick finger at any other of the nearby guards. "Did you ears freeze off with your cocks? Where is your king?"
|
|
|
|
Post by Horas on Dec 13, 2008 2:26:48 GMT -5
The other guards look disappointed that they haven't gotten to see a fight yet.
"He wanders off sometimes. He'll be back. What do you want to see him for?"
|
|
Hope you all are well and happy.