Ask Game of Thrones: Valayrian Resolve

Kenico

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The Kingsroad, the largest and longest highway in Westeros. It led from Castle Black at the Wall to Storms End in the Stormlands, and for the multitude who use it for everything from trade to travel, it was a life line. For a lonely man atop a massive black horse, it was a starting point. Danton Grey literally stood on the road at one point, where the invisible border between the Riverlands and the North stood. He was leagues from Greywater Watch where ever in the seven hells it was hiding in that boggy swamp to his rear. He had been riding for days and was now looking into the Riverlands for the first time in 8 years. The man of 45 looked further down the Kingsroad, his stony blue eyes glaring at the patch of dirt and pebbles before giving it a scowl. He gruffed a bit, clearing some phlegm from his throat before giving a soft tap of his heels into the flanks of his horse to make the Stallion move forward. From that moment on until he reached his destination, Dan was in the realm of Edmure "The Young Fish" Tully.

It would be almost a fortnight before Danton came withing shitting distance of the Trident. He was tired, his Horse was tired, and both of their asses were tired. Danton wished he and his horse were back in their prime, they'd be at their destination before the sun rose. Sadly they were way past their prime and they could only sustain the mighty gallops for a day before they would be forced to rest. He could hear his old bones aching from sitting in Berks saddle all day, worse still he could hear Brerks bones aching. He looked ahead for a moment, a weak and sardonic smile crept across his lips as he beheld the Crossroads in coming into view.

Bout fucking time! he thought exuberantly egging Berk on to get them closer to the Inn so they could rest their weary head, at least for a few hours before getting back on the road again. As Horse and Rider sludged towards the Stables of Crossroads Inn, A stable boy approached them and offered to take the Reins of the Horse. Danton handed them to the boy as soon as he slid off of the saddle, releasing a heavy groan before leaning back to the sounds of popping. His eyes snapped open as he felt the release of pain and a sensation of pleasure as he heard each of his bones pop. "Damn!" he let out as he handed a couple of Stags to the boy, "Get my horse somewhere dry and safe then get yourself something to eat when you can!" he commanded. The boy looked at the two stags with wide eyes, looking up at the man and giving a nod and a smile. Before he left he felt a heavy hand touch his shoulder, "The First stag is for what I have said...The Second is to keep your mouth shut" he warned, his face betraying a stern gaze. The Boy gave a nervous nod before continuing on. Danton growled quietly before moving towards the inn itself, entering without drawing attention to himself as he looked upon what he would find inside...
 
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Timmen

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Arthyr had been on the road for a few days, so far his "adventure" seemed more like a charity drive. First he sold his Horse for the starving widow with the 8 children in the wintertown. Next he gave his sercoat to the young woman with the blackened eye who had fled her fathers house naked in the snow. And more recently hed surrendered his prayer beads to the man whose son had died of the local pestilence... and he had only been gone from home for a week! But despite the losing of his possessions the widow had given him a place to sleep and a woolen cloak, the girls fiance had given him a mule and the Old man had given him a small bag of coppers... so perhaps this was more a way for the gods to make him more humble? He placed this thought into the back of his mind for later, instead singing as he rode.
"The Red Wedding" was a sad song, one hed learned from a traveling bard as a boy. It was always one which stayed in his head, he hummed it and occassionally, like this time, sang it softly.
"What saddness gloom and great despair
When they slew the wolf,
His cub
and his maiden fair.
A treachary for all of time.
Let every person know their crime.
O'listen well
And ye shall hear;
Of what sent the Freys to the seventh hell"

He rode the mule, nodding to the peasants who seemed less than inpressed with his spartan armor and humble steed. But he continued to sing anyways, his somewhat long, brown hair being blown by the riverland breeze
"They offered salt
They offered bread
And gave themselves Poison instead.
Those evil man who cut the mothers throat
As they let the bodies down the moat.

They slew the wolf
They slew the cub
They slew the woman with whom they sup.

More beasts than men
Less man than beast
That killed the family at the wedding feast
And now no man weep
And each man know
That traitors reap
What traitors sew.

For winter came
And house freys no more
Who slew the wolf
The cub
And the sweet maiden from the foreign shore.
Their widows wail,
Their orphans weep
For their dark, abandoned, decrepit keep"

He returned to humming, having forgotten the next few parts to the song... or poem? It wasnt that it was his favorite song but it had the same tune as "the girl and the dancing bear" which was his favorite story as a child...

He approached the Inn, it seemed well tended to and from what he heard was a reputable establishment. He gave Parry over the stable hand, Giving him a small amount of copper coins as a tip before entering the Inn.
 

Kenico

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Danton moved towards the back of the main tavern. He turned around, looking back towards the door to see if anyone was giving him more than the usual attention when he walked into the establishment. After removing his cloak Danton slid into the booth, rubbing his forehead for a moment while he quietly drew his knife. He sat it to one side but making sure it was close enough to grab it in case shite hit the wall.

“Evening Love” stated a waitress as she came to his booth, “You come a long way have you?” She asked with a bit of a muddied smile.

Danton looked to the maid with a tired face but managed to force a weak smile across his lips, “Aye” he replied with a hoarse voice, “I’ll start with whatever ale you’ve got that’s not shite” He asked with a grin of his own.

“Of course love.” She said as she turned to get it.

“And any mutton with cheese would be great too if that’s alright” he called out as he leaned back into his seat. The maid raised her hand in confirmation and continued to the bar. Aye shite he thought as he spotted his ale being sat in front of him...
 
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Minuteman75

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On the opposite side of the tavern sat another man, with his green expensive boots prodded up at the ragged table. He had long dark hair with smooth olive skin common among the Dornishman saved for the purple eyes. The armor the stranger wore was of bronze color and a green sash wrapped around the waist. In one hand he held a now half empty mug.

Looking down in it Rolan Sand sighed. Tastes like goat’s piss but the company is more pleasurable though. As the waitress walked by he winked at her and she returned it with a slight grin before moving on. The sellsword suppressed a grin, fondly remembering the night before he and the hostess shared in bed.

Of course, he finally took subtle notice of the newcomer. That bastard over has lived many seasons by the looks of it. Doesn’t seem like he enjoyed such longevity. Keeping that opinion to himself Rolan focused on finishing the rest of his ale. He nearly gagged for a moment but swallowed it down all the same.

Nothing like the brew of Volantis or Braavos. Hopefully I‘ll have better fortune getting a job soon. Would hate to think I came back to Westroes for nothing.

@Kenico @Timmen
 
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