Post by The Smith on May 31, 2009 14:09:45 GMT -5
Talyn passed through the crowded hallways of Castle Black. It seemed like every square inch of space was filled with bodies, the air thick with the smell of the unwashed. Amongst this human detritus, the Traitor’s Son was looking for a few good men.
Settling himself in training yard, he stood with William Hill, and a few other men, telling war stories. As men approached, they would speak louder, discussing the desperate last stand at Bloody Hill, of fighting wights and giant spiders. Heroic noble stuff.
Most of it was lies, of course, and those that were not fabrications were at least embellished.
It was William, though who the best at it was. The Old Dog would real in teenage boys who’d just reached fighting age, or else strong backed farmers who had wielded scythe and sickle, but never spear and sword with stories of his heroics. And he would tell of the days when he’d been like them, a fat, bored little yeoman farmer, and if Talyn hadn’t had known better he’d have believed Dog was telling the truth.
Once William had hooked them in with stories of individual heroics, Talyn reeled them in with descriptions of brotherhood, of fighting to make a difference, of revenging themselves upon those who had visited horrors upon them during the war.
Their recruitment campaign took only a few days, but it went better than Talyn had hoped. As soon a small troop was assembled, Talyn saw that they were armed. The stores of the Night’s Watch armory was far more numerous than their numbers, and it didn’t take much effort to see weapons and armor end up in the right hands.
When by Talyn’s count some three hundred men had made their mark in the parchment book which was supposed to be the enlistment rolls (there were more names crossed off than signed on, the attrition rate of the war had been near 90% by his count) he felt contented to call it enough, assured that they’d received the best available of the free men.
“Ser, ser, Captain,” “Quick” Jax said, in his rapid volley way.
“Yes, what is it?” Talyn replied.
“Have we room for one more ser, just one more?” he asked, his hands patting against his thighs in a drum rhythm as he nodded his head back and forth like one of those small birds that sit on the back of oxen pecking at ticks.
“I don’t know Jax. We’ve got a good size now. If I recruit another, than I’d need to find another fifty to make a full troop, and I don’t think there’s enough mail for that left.”
“But ser, really, you should just take a look at what they can do.”
The young man stepped aside, and revealed a young woman with a bow stretched out over her shoulder. She was attractive, in a tomboyish sort of way, and she seemed about Jax’s age, so Talyn could see why he wanted her along.
“C’mon Jax, we don’t have room for any camp followers.” Talyn said, “You know that.”
The woman snorted. “I’m no whore, I’m Lysa Penny, and I’m the best shot with this bow that you’ve ever seen.”
Talyn snickered, ‘I doubt that. I’ve seen Ableforth Yew take out a hawk’s eye at 100 paces.” Talyn turned his back and began to walk.
“C’mon Jax, we’ve got work to do if these boys are going to be able to move with us.”
The younger sellsword look downcast, and shrugged his shoulders at the girl apologetically, before following his commander through the training yard.
Training began by physical exercise, practical strength building. Than wrestling, dagger and sword fighting, than spear and shield in combination. When one man failed, the others were ordered to wail loudly “I’m dying, you’ve killed me!” Embarrassment was useful motivator.
When the sun had reached its zenith, Talyn called for a halt, and drew a flagon of icy water for each soldier to drink, before getting his own. As he raised the flagon to his lips, there was a sudden loud hum of a bow string. The men scattered in every direction, except for their commander, who stood In the midst of them, holding a flagon pierced with an arrow.
From the top of the armory tower, a young woman stood, waving her bow over her head in triumph. Talyn smiled.
“Jax….”
“Yes ser, captain, ser, what is it?” the boy replied.
“Go tell your sweetheart she’s hired too.”
Results:
Talyn Thatcher recruits 300 men to the Traitors’ Sons and begins their training.
Lysa Penny joins the Traitors’ Sons.
Settling himself in training yard, he stood with William Hill, and a few other men, telling war stories. As men approached, they would speak louder, discussing the desperate last stand at Bloody Hill, of fighting wights and giant spiders. Heroic noble stuff.
Most of it was lies, of course, and those that were not fabrications were at least embellished.
It was William, though who the best at it was. The Old Dog would real in teenage boys who’d just reached fighting age, or else strong backed farmers who had wielded scythe and sickle, but never spear and sword with stories of his heroics. And he would tell of the days when he’d been like them, a fat, bored little yeoman farmer, and if Talyn hadn’t had known better he’d have believed Dog was telling the truth.
Once William had hooked them in with stories of individual heroics, Talyn reeled them in with descriptions of brotherhood, of fighting to make a difference, of revenging themselves upon those who had visited horrors upon them during the war.
Their recruitment campaign took only a few days, but it went better than Talyn had hoped. As soon a small troop was assembled, Talyn saw that they were armed. The stores of the Night’s Watch armory was far more numerous than their numbers, and it didn’t take much effort to see weapons and armor end up in the right hands.
When by Talyn’s count some three hundred men had made their mark in the parchment book which was supposed to be the enlistment rolls (there were more names crossed off than signed on, the attrition rate of the war had been near 90% by his count) he felt contented to call it enough, assured that they’d received the best available of the free men.
“Ser, ser, Captain,” “Quick” Jax said, in his rapid volley way.
“Yes, what is it?” Talyn replied.
“Have we room for one more ser, just one more?” he asked, his hands patting against his thighs in a drum rhythm as he nodded his head back and forth like one of those small birds that sit on the back of oxen pecking at ticks.
“I don’t know Jax. We’ve got a good size now. If I recruit another, than I’d need to find another fifty to make a full troop, and I don’t think there’s enough mail for that left.”
“But ser, really, you should just take a look at what they can do.”
The young man stepped aside, and revealed a young woman with a bow stretched out over her shoulder. She was attractive, in a tomboyish sort of way, and she seemed about Jax’s age, so Talyn could see why he wanted her along.
“C’mon Jax, we don’t have room for any camp followers.” Talyn said, “You know that.”
The woman snorted. “I’m no whore, I’m Lysa Penny, and I’m the best shot with this bow that you’ve ever seen.”
Talyn snickered, ‘I doubt that. I’ve seen Ableforth Yew take out a hawk’s eye at 100 paces.” Talyn turned his back and began to walk.
“C’mon Jax, we’ve got work to do if these boys are going to be able to move with us.”
The younger sellsword look downcast, and shrugged his shoulders at the girl apologetically, before following his commander through the training yard.
Training began by physical exercise, practical strength building. Than wrestling, dagger and sword fighting, than spear and shield in combination. When one man failed, the others were ordered to wail loudly “I’m dying, you’ve killed me!” Embarrassment was useful motivator.
When the sun had reached its zenith, Talyn called for a halt, and drew a flagon of icy water for each soldier to drink, before getting his own. As he raised the flagon to his lips, there was a sudden loud hum of a bow string. The men scattered in every direction, except for their commander, who stood In the midst of them, holding a flagon pierced with an arrow.
From the top of the armory tower, a young woman stood, waving her bow over her head in triumph. Talyn smiled.
“Jax….”
“Yes ser, captain, ser, what is it?” the boy replied.
“Go tell your sweetheart she’s hired too.”
Results:
Talyn Thatcher recruits 300 men to the Traitors’ Sons and begins their training.
Lysa Penny joins the Traitors’ Sons.