Patrick Posted April 14, 2008 Report Share Posted April 14, 2008 The sun slowly climbed above the horizon, its rays shakily piercing the low lying layer of clouds that threatened rain before the end of the day. The small run-down inn had offered little in the way of shelter for the night, and in the light of the rising sun its state of disrepair was evident for all. Repairs had been done rarely and only in patches, just the bare necessities to keep the inn halfway serviceable. Everyone was glad to be rid of this place and to be on the road again. Stephen Lark more than the rest. Being the leader of the rag-tag band of mercenaries tasked with protecting the group of five carts and about three dozen odd men and women, he had information that he did not like. One of his outriders hadn't been seen for two days and the other had sighted bandits in their rear. He hoped that his half a dozen men would be enough to defend the caravan if all went to hell. But even more than that he hoped that they wouldn't have to draw their swords before they reached King's Landing. Almost everyone was awake already, making last-minute preparations for what was to be a long day's march for those unlucky enough to have horses and a leasurely ride for those who had the luxury. It was just before Stephen was about to give the order to leave, that everyone was stopped in their tracks by a high-pitched scream from the stables. As the group set out half an hour later, the leader of the mercenaries could not help but wonder whether with his five remaining men he could still earn his pay or not. Only time would tell. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Tanuchan Posted April 14, 2008 Report Share Posted April 14, 2008 Seara looked at Marisia with an exasperated sigh. Reaching out with a hand, she grabbed her little sister's hair and yanked hard, having the satisfaction of hearing a yelp. "Searaaaaaaaaaaaa!" "Don't you Seara me, Mari!" She frowned, looking at her sister's wrinkled clothes. "Where do you think you are going? Stay here with your escort, and don't you start trying to hide behind every bush." "I'm not hiding, Sea! I'm looking for wolves!" "Wolves don't hide under bushes, and they don't come where there are men. And ladies of House Ryswell most certainly do not go hunting wolves. Now stay here!" "But the ladies of House Stark..." "It was Lord Stark who found the direwolves, not the ladies. Now come here and ride at my side!" Marisia would have pouted if she weren't sure her big sister would yank her hair again if she did, so she just sulked and rode, longing for the freedom she had when Seara wasn't around. For the thousandth time in the trip, she wondered why their father had sent her away. After all, it was Seara who was going to marry, and not her... Seara glanced at her sister, and frowned again. She muttered something under her breath, and as she felt the look of Joran on her, she smoothed her face and gave a smile. I'm glad father sent Joran to look for us. At least he is not scandalized by Mari's behavior, and will not be whispering behind our backs about how unfit she is to be a proper lady... She straightened her back, and let her gaze fall on their traveling companions, surreptitiously studying them. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
GLJordan Posted April 15, 2008 Report Share Posted April 15, 2008 (edited) Dane reached a hand into his helm. Where his wound once was was aching again. never a good sign. Awakening to death and nothingness. Now once again those around him were dying. Who he wondered was doing it? was it that jasper? Jaspear's knives always worried him. More the weapon choice of a theif or assassin than a proper fighter. Knives and a drinking habbit can cause many deaths. Has it claimed yet another? Savage Dragon Jasper Cornelius Edited April 16, 2008 by Giles Jordan Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Savage Dragon Posted April 15, 2008 Report Share Posted April 15, 2008 Jasper idly twirled the knife in his left hand. It spun at an amazing speed but he was careful to keep the knife in complete control. It's what he does when he's tense... well one of the things he does. Normally, he drinks his anxiety away, but he hadn't had anything to drink in about a week now. He liked to tell himself it was because he was smart enough to avoid the IQ lowering drink during times of great peril and danger, like now with a murderer afoot, but the truth was he was broke and could not afford it. Oh well, he'd manage. Again his mind returned to the murder at hand and who among his new companions was the most likely of killers. It could be any one of them, they were a group of collected strangers for the most part, no one really knowing anyone else. It meant that this was not likely a crime of passion, but more likely a planned and purposeful killing even if the method had been a little.... crude. The killer was more likely to be cunning and therefore all the more dangerous. He frowned. It also meant that he was more likely to kill again. All the more reason to discover him quickly.... or her. A good number of his fellow travelers seemed abrasive and rash, likely suspects and easy to imagine as death dealers. In fact too easy. If this killer was smart he would do his best to stay hidden and therefore the more plain the man, the more likely the killer. and nothing is more plain than the average farmer. John Deere was a plain farmer. even his name sounded familiar. Jasper scratched the scruff on his neck. wouldn't surprise me at all to learn that John Deere was the killer. After all, Jasper had been raised by farmers and knew how simple minded some of them could be. and nothing was more simple than murder he stood to search out some of his companions, he'd like to tell himself it was because he wanted to learn more about them and maybe come a little closer to finding this killer, but really he was hoping one of them might have a drink Vote for Mithrandin - John Deere Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Mithrandin Posted April 15, 2008 Report Share Posted April 15, 2008 (edited) John rode close to his wheat cart, but not because he felt any danger from the previous death. Death comes in many diferent ways, amazingly more often out of the battle field than one would suspect, and for the most petty reasons. He was riding beside his cart because he had a good view of the lady riding in front, he could not tell but that she was from a high lineage. Lost in his thoughts he let his horse ride loose for a while, and it brough her closer to Seara. When he came to himself to find out he was close to her, he took the reins rather harshly making his horse stop abruptly. At this Seara and her sister looked back at once to John, startled. John blushed and went back to riding by his cart, feeling suddenly uncomfortable as he became aware of is dark tan due to last weeks on the fields and his simple clothes. When he regained courage to look forward again he was surprised to find someone looking back. Marisia turned forward with a smile after making eye contact with John, leaving him surprised. Edited April 15, 2008 by Mithrandin Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Researcher Posted April 15, 2008 Report Share Posted April 15, 2008 Joran nodded at Seara, by now being able to guess why she had been frowning. He rode in a relaxed way, with the ease of years as a guardsman; however very few who mistook his relaxed demeanor with carelessness were alive to tell the story of a swift fight. Marisia's light giggling called his attention, and he turned to the little girl. She saw him daring the farmer with a direct eye contact, and hid a grin. This little girl isn't so little anymore... I see why Lady Seara tries to control her. But the truth is that the little kitten is not even aware of her effect on men. He let his horse canter, stopping for a few moments besides Marisia to ruffle her hair and whisper a warning. "Lady Marisia, I would not displease your sister anymore today. Ride near us, and maybe we can tell some stories about House Stark's direwolves." The girl perked up hearing the word "direwolves", and looked at Joran with eagerness. He waved her towards Seara, and then cantered to reach Stephen Lark. He was also worried with the whispered news about bandits, and the murder at the stables. His mission, and of the three men with him, was to protect Ladies Seara and Marisia and see them safely to King's Landing; the rest of the travelers were nothing of his business, but he knew very well that if events came to a confrontation with bandits, they would have to fight alongside the mercs. He let his mind account for every one of the travelers as he passed them, and instinctively started to assess their reliability. There was always the possibility of a bandit hiding among them, to open the way for an easy attack. I wish the group were less mixed... merchants and farmers won't do in a fight, they'll most probably just be in the way. The boy with the knives might be useful if he has the freedom to throw them... how about the others? Someone willing to join the Night's Watch is certainly no so common, but at least that means he knows the basics of fight; probably more than the knife-guy. The one that looks like a soldier... I wonder how much of his memory is truly lost. Who will he attack in a fight? Joran's eyes fell on Dane, studying him. Mercs sold their allegiances for money, so memory was more of a handicap than not; however, the amnesiac fighter troubled his mind and he had learned to give some thought to his gut feelings. A muffled curse made him turn around; he saw the merchant hurriedly trying to close one of his spice sacks, the cords tying it shut having been loosened somehow. Joran shook his head. If there was someone hiding among then, wouldn't it be under the most harmless of appearances? "Hey, Lark!!" He sided his horse with Lark's, and started a whispered conversation. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Mithrandin Posted April 16, 2008 Report Share Posted April 16, 2008 vote for: TheResearcher - Joran Griswold OC: sorry not much time Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Patrick Posted April 17, 2008 Author Report Share Posted April 17, 2008 The rain struck at noon, drenching everyone and everything in a matter of minutes. A lot of names were whispered during the gloomy hours of rain, some maybe for the right reasons, others possibly for false ones. The only certainty in the whispers was uncertainty itself. One of the younger boys had the bad luck of mentioning Stephen's name while he was in earshot. The glare the guard captain shot him back would have been enough to set his blood rushing fast had the boy not already been running to the back of the caravan. "No! No! It wasn't me! I'm innocent!" came an agitated shout from behind the last wagon. "I'm but a simple far-" the second shout was cut short by a low-pitched grunt caused by a knife thrust into John's chest. "I'm in....no...cent" he managed to gurgle between the blood he was coughing up as the young boy who had been running from the captain of the mercenaries reached his side. By the time Stephen was there John was dead, having drowned in his own blood. Shaking while he was interrogated the boy could only say that he hadn't seen who had stabbed John. Three miles to the east, the outrider Stephen had sent out that morning clutched at the arrow shaft that protruded from his neck. Only four guards remained... OOC: The dice decided...John Deere/Mithrandin was an innocent villager. Specials you have 24 hours (give or take a bit) to PM me your targets. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Ozymandias Posted April 18, 2008 Report Share Posted April 18, 2008 On the first day of their trip, Routh Kurston found much to his chagrin that making rather merry with his latest client had left him with a newfound susceptibility to motion sickness. The affable merchant on the ground quickly became the rather green-faced who lay miserably in his cart for several days. At last, he emerged in the rain with a wan smile and sheepish look. Smoothing back quickly moistening hair, he came upon Marisia first. Routh gave a bow and a greeting befitting a young lady, and enquired as to what he had missed. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Patrick Posted April 18, 2008 Author Report Share Posted April 18, 2008 This time there was no scream. The killing was silent and went unnoticed during the night, being discovered only when the mercenary captain went to rouse everyone and found that there was one person he could not rouse. No exterior signs betray how Dane had died, only a faint smell lingering on his person betrays the potent poison mixed into his supper. Another pair of fighting hands is gone and the defenses of the group weaken. Who does this benefit? OOC: Dane of the Ornate Helm/Giles Jordan was an innocent villager. You have 48 hours to lynch someone. OOC2: Sorry for the short post, but I have to be getting back to The Witcher. Much too good game for my own good. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Ozymandias Posted April 20, 2008 Report Share Posted April 20, 2008 Routh listens, placid eyes growing wider and wider. He waits to speak until Marisia finishes her somewhat breathless account of the missing mercenaries, and addresses her again with now unfeigned gravity.. "Thank you for telling me. This is serious. You'd better get back to your sister quickly, young Miss; you'll be safer with her. I'll go speak with the men at arms" (OOC: TheResearcher/Joran.) Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Researcher Posted April 20, 2008 Report Share Posted April 20, 2008 Joran observed little Marisia running back to Lady Seara after a somewhat long talk with the spice merchant. He kept his eyes on Master Kurston, until the merchant looked back at him. There was wariness in him, and he saw it reflected on the merchant's eyes. Who better to infiltrate a band of travelers than an innocent merchant? ~~~ OOC: Vote for Ozymandias/Routh Kurston... Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Tanuchan Posted April 20, 2008 Report Share Posted April 20, 2008 Seara glared at Marisia, but for this time did not say a word. It was not fit for a lady of Ryswell House to be talking to merchants in the middle of a road, but she had to bow to the fact that she herself was feeling worried with the last killings. She looked around, more than ever wishing she knew more about the people around her. The death of that poor farmer had shocked her, but having a warrior being killed made her feel faint. If they could not defend themselves, would they be able to defend the travelers? As her eyes fell on a lone figure walking near the soldiers, she wrapped arms around herself and whispered softly to no one in special. "He gives me the shivers... all in black, never speaking... what kind of men is willing to serve at the Night's Watch?" ~~~~ OOC: Vote for Akallabeth/Wolfram Waters Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Patrick Posted April 20, 2008 Author Report Share Posted April 20, 2008 Angry voices drew Stephen to the back of the caravan yet again. Contrary to what had happened before he arrived there before anyone was harmed. A ring of people surrounded Routh Kurston, who was protesting his own innocence, just as the farmer had been doing twenty four hours earlier. The captain of the guards was just about to break things up when someone tugged at Routh's sleeve. As the merchant's sleeve tore along its length the moneybag that had been fixed to his arm was dislodged and tumbled to the ground. For a merchant who was going to King's Landing to sell his things, Routh sure had a lot of coins with him. Silver, bronze and even some gold coins tumbled to the soil. Some made moves to pick up some of the coins, while others cornered Routh between two wagons. For once, the guard captain did not interfere. He did not mind a traitor dying. OOC: seems that you got lucky. Ozy/Routh Kurston was the wolf... Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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