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Post by Robyn Stark on Aug 21, 2015 13:57:48 GMT -5
"A place beyond the wall, called the frogs tooth, or by there..." Robyn told him.
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Post by Amelia Royce on Aug 21, 2015 14:07:21 GMT -5
"The Frog's Tooth," Benjen said, finding the name curious. He turned to a servant. "Send for some wildling scouts - they will hopefully know where this place is." He turned back to Robyn. "In the mood for a mission?"
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Post by Robyn Stark on Aug 21, 2015 14:09:51 GMT -5
Ooc: autocorrect! Frost tooth!
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Post by Robyn Stark on Aug 21, 2015 14:10:49 GMT -5
"I will go, after I marry Kalvin," she said, looking at her brother, "I'm not doing anything else before then."
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Post by Amelia Royce on Aug 21, 2015 14:15:42 GMT -5
Benjen nodded. "I was preparing to move to the Nightfort and set up there, though with the Reachmen coming I may move to Castle Black. I'll send word to Kal and the two of you can be married there, if you wish."
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Post by Robyn Stark on Aug 21, 2015 14:33:32 GMT -5
"It could be a farmhouse somewhere," she said smiling at benjen a bit, "for all it matters to me."
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Post by Amelia Royce on Aug 21, 2015 14:38:49 GMT -5
Benjen smiled. "Castle Black it is then. I hope you'll let your big brother have the honour of giving you away," He said with a chuckle, glad there could still be some joy found in this world.
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Post by Malthazar Nazaryl on Aug 21, 2015 14:39:55 GMT -5
Ilvar landed on a roof nearby, studying the blessed one. Perhaps the Southerners had their own skinchangers and Greenseers. He had difficulty recalling the last one he had encountered. They were not rare perchance in the Far North, but a perfect faith like Ilvar's could be its own shame in certain company.
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Post by Robyn Stark on Aug 21, 2015 15:20:06 GMT -5
"Of course she said," smiling at him, she'd briefly thought of Nick, but it should really be benjen. "Can we leave sooner rather than later then?"
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Post by Amelia Royce on Aug 21, 2015 15:33:51 GMT -5
"We'll leave on the morrow, the troops should be ready by then," Benjen assured her, still waiting for the wildling scouts. Cough cough.
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Post by The Forgotten God on Aug 21, 2015 16:02:30 GMT -5
The Frost Tooth is better known as the Frostfangs river delta, or at least that's what the wildlings say. The name has evoled in three thousand years.
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Post by Malthazar Nazaryl on Aug 21, 2015 17:04:37 GMT -5
Ilvar decides patience is overrated at the End of the World.
Slipping briefly into back into his body, the shaman began directing his flock upward, like a black flag of parlay. He gently slumped forward again, while guiding dozens of little bodies towards the blessed one. They settle down upon, upon roof and wagon and wall. Ilvar then cawed once, twice, thrice in unison with himselves. Then he summoned them back to his person, and opened his eyes again.
He decided that was ominous enough.
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Post by The Forgotten God on Aug 22, 2015 14:07:36 GMT -5
As the crowd surround where the princess is, he feels a strange disruption to his link to them as a man who looks something like the other two royals passes by. His sword is the strange color real smoke, darker than normal steel and it gives him a headache to be around. He succeeds in being ominous, though.
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Post by Robyn Stark on Aug 22, 2015 14:15:17 GMT -5
Robyn looks up at the crows and wrinkles her nose, "thought all the crows had gone North,"she joked to her brother, either one.
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Post by Malthazar Nazaryl on Aug 22, 2015 18:18:12 GMT -5
Ilvar walks up to whoever there is to walk up to, and with his palms raised, states, "Hullo, milord. 'tis a fine estate ye possess. If I said the Old Gods and the Older spoke through me, would ye give a poor soul a piece of bread?" He grins with perfect red teeth that had never tasted sugar. He's armed with a longbow slung across his body and a hunting knife, and owning nothing but the putrid bags of meat. His voice is rather slow and stilted, as though speaking a foreign language. He has never met a milord before.
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