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Post by The Flint on Jun 7, 2009 15:37:06 GMT -5
Talyn let the girl hit him as hard as she pleased, and made no move to stop her or put hands on her in anyway.
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Post by The Smith on Jun 7, 2009 15:40:14 GMT -5
Tyberion placed his hand on her shoulder and gently guided her close. Then he began patting her on the back. Looking Talyn right in the eye he said to the guards. "Take him down to the cells."
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Post by The Flint on Jun 7, 2009 15:42:14 GMT -5
Talyn did not resist as the Northern warriors dragged him to the cells.
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Post by The Smith on Jun 7, 2009 16:24:39 GMT -5
////////////////////////
The Army of Victors arrive.
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Post by Princess Lyssandra Martell on Jun 7, 2009 19:44:55 GMT -5
Shah enters Winterfell with her translator Rehmire. She liked the town and the stoic look of the castle. She had heard stories of the place, her favourite being the outlandish tale that there was a dragon living underneath the castle which in turn was a source for the hotsprings.
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Post by Dyther Morrigen on Jun 7, 2009 20:05:45 GMT -5
Dyther looks about, puffing on strong Stormlands tobacco. The wet and warm farmlands of the area provided suitable land to yield high grade plants. His stock was slowly depleting, but he estimated he had a year or more's supply for himself. A carved walking stick made from a shattered oak from north of the Wall is in his right hand, his sword at his left side. He seldom bothers with a shield.
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Post by Princess Lyssandra Martell on Jun 7, 2009 20:22:49 GMT -5
"Ah ser." Rekhmire said in his best westerosi. "So we have encountered eachother again. He spoke to his lady about the man before them and she nodded. "Have you just stumbled out of another adventure?"
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Post by Dyther Morrigen on Jun 7, 2009 20:26:56 GMT -5
Dyther removes his hat politely and manages a perfunctory bow before the Myrish woman. "No ser, I fear. I'm...atheistic. The only recent adventure has been marveling at how boring uor trip has been since the Last Battle."
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Post by Princess Lyssandra Martell on Jun 7, 2009 20:31:14 GMT -5
"Things will pick up again for certain. More infighting amongst you westerosi perhaps. Only seem to like women beneath you." He chuckled. "My lady has said that she would like to listen to any of your stories, or about how you know braavosi. She would pay for drinks if we can find a tavern that still holds ale in it."
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Post by Dyther Morrigen on Jun 7, 2009 20:35:35 GMT -5
"Infighting is likely. Traitors are everywhere, I'm sure." Though...traitors to whom he was less certain. All of humanity, perhaps. "Merchants have come all the way from White Harbor to unload themselves of libation." He switches to Braavosi. "It may be easier to converselike this, if you speak it, lady...Shiraz...Shahzam....Shahrazai?"
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Post by Princess Lyssandra Martell on Jun 7, 2009 20:41:37 GMT -5
"Close enough. I'd be happy to speak directly to you of course. An odd trio we will make speaking in such a foreign language no? Do lead on if you see such a place that will take our business. It will be easier to bring in goods now that we have access to White Harbour."
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Post by Dyther Morrigen on Jun 7, 2009 20:44:48 GMT -5
Dyther relights his tobacco, which had gone out whilst he spoke, and looked about, finding a tent with empty seats. He takes one and asks a bartender for some ales. The man gives him a price, and Dyther narrows his scary cold eyes at him. "At these prices, no wonder the fuckin' tent's empty." The man scurries to get some glasses. "I could kill him for you, if you'd like. Gougers....usurers offend me."
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Post by Princess Lyssandra Martell on Jun 7, 2009 20:50:40 GMT -5
She leaned back in the chair, feeling more uncomfortable in it than her usually cushiony lounge. "I'd prefer no one died at the moment, killing him would be too expensive a cost I think. I would assume that this war would give any individual enough killing to last a lifetime. I see that is not the case with you Ser Dyther."
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Post by Dyther Morrigen on Jun 7, 2009 20:55:08 GMT -5
"Once again, I am no ser. I do not believe in any gods save humanity. Our...destiny is our own to carve out, with fire or steel or gold. As to killing, well, I've only killed fifty or a hundred men, the rest were already dead or Others." He turns to the barkeep. "You live because she says so." He returns to Braavosi, the words heavy after so many years of little use. "I kill because it's what I do best. I will hold no lands or shops or keeps or ships. I must claw my own...existence from my enemies."
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Post by Princess Lyssandra Martell on Jun 7, 2009 21:02:26 GMT -5
"My apologies." She sat with her hands in her lap for the moment. "Surely you know how to read? There is always use for a many of languages aboard ships and with merchants. You could carve a living from that, and it is much less dangerous." She thinks for a moment. "No, it is still dangerous in some places, and still all as adventurous as this campaign has been. You cannot fight for your whole life Dyther."
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