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Post by Ser Pounce on Sept 3, 2011 17:45:48 GMT -5
"And always will be. We'd still rule the damned mudlands if the dragons had just stayed out of it." Clarence enters the tavern, built slightly underground to keep as cool as possible. "Hm, first time today my balls ain't been sticking together. A man could get used to the feeling." He walks to the nearest serving wench. "Ale. It damn well better be cold or we'll be discussing the reason why back on my ship. I call'er the Maiden's Grief. Don't find out why." "Dragons are all dead now, unless someone's been hiding one under their ass." Pol followed Clarence down the steps and felt a wave of relief as he met the cooler air. "Never thought I'd be relieved to enter a cave. These people even live like snakes." Pol chose a table for them while Clarence ordered the ale. "Keep them coming," he added, "And don't give reason for my friend to get in a bad mood, his spirits have just gone up because his balls aren't sticking together." He looked around the bar at what sort filled the walls, and took measure of any fighting men.
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Post by The Forgotten God on Sept 3, 2011 22:40:54 GMT -5
Pol sees a few men who are obviously knights or such, but Ser Clarence Blackwall's name is feared the kingdom over, and his black and white checkered cloak with a fist holding a human heart is certainly noticeable. Two ales swiftly arrive at their table. "More like rabbits. They live like rabbits. I'm telling you, a real snake could make quite a fine living here."
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Post by Ser Pounce on Sept 3, 2011 22:49:12 GMT -5
Pol hefted his tankard and drunk deep without a care, and some of it ended up wetting his beard. He let out a loud belch. "Not the greatest but it'll due." Pol remarked as he held the mug. "Let the snakes have the rabbits for all I care. A bit empty this place is."
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Post by The Forgotten God on Sept 3, 2011 23:07:49 GMT -5
"A bit. They must have work to do during the day." Clarence drank of his mug until it was empty then held it out for a swift refill. "I don't know, Greyjoy, you seem to be ignoring these fine examples of womanflesh a bit too well."
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Post by Ser Pounce on Sept 3, 2011 23:30:14 GMT -5
"You men those knights over there? They're not worth our time." Pol polished off his ale and went for another. "But it would seem that I would be ignoring the rest if I had such low standards as yours."
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Post by The Forgotten God on Sept 4, 2011 7:53:59 GMT -5
"Low standards a wet dick make. Once I shut my eyes they're all the same." He takes another drink and belches rudely. A man glares at him, and Ser Clarence just laughs, then belches again, even louder. "What exactly do you need inna woman, Greyjoy? Other than your cock?"
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Post by The Forgotten God on Sept 4, 2011 7:58:09 GMT -5
Malryas Bolton walks down the road, a sheaf of papers in his right hand. He has a new leather hat on to shade his eyes from the bright sun, and his gait is crisp and certain. "Making friends, are we?"
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Post by Leona Redwyne on Sept 4, 2011 8:04:40 GMT -5
"Not really," Dacey grumbled. "That Dornish fellow seems to think he can win me over with his music then he headed off after his lady like a tame dog."
She sighed and began to polish one of her daggers.
"This voyage is going to be interesting...for the wrong reasons."
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Post by The Forgotten God on Sept 4, 2011 8:07:56 GMT -5
"Frances Sand is renowned kingdom wide for all the wrong reasons. Even I don't know much about him beyond rumor. Lord Dayne's methods of dissuading spies has proven regrettably effective." An uncharacteristic look of uncertainty crossed his face for the briefest second. "It will be interesting and the intelligence will be invaluable to Eddard's Rest. We'll just have to keep our eyes wide open."
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Post by Leona Redwyne on Sept 4, 2011 8:12:29 GMT -5
"I know. But I can't like our travelling companions. I've never liked anyone who wasn't of the North. You know that. I never understood why you didn't hire more women to work for you," she said. "I could help you find them.
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Post by The Forgotten God on Sept 4, 2011 8:17:39 GMT -5
"Most lords take serious exception to my recruiting. And of those who would do it, even fewer are capable. I have other women in my employ, but you are my lone killer. It comes naturally to you for some reason. Seldom have I met someone with so much anger." He walks toward the enormous vessel. "Let's set up on ship. We have...friends to make."
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Post by Leona Redwyne on Sept 4, 2011 8:20:00 GMT -5
"Friends?"
Dacey spat on the ground in contempt. It was true that she had a lot of anger inside but softer feelings were alien to her. She had always thought she had more in common with men than with other women.
"I have no time for friends, my lord. But I am yours to command."
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Post by The Forgotten God on Sept 4, 2011 8:28:08 GMT -5
Bolton's voice never changed tone. "Good. Then make friends. Not really liking them will make it easier one day when you have to do what you must." He climbed the gangplank onto the ship and headed to their spare, cramped quarters on the warship.
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Post by Leona Redwyne on Sept 4, 2011 8:32:15 GMT -5
"I suppose," Dacey grumbled.
She followed Bolton in silence, her dagger sheathed once more. Once they reached their quarters she asked "Why do we have to travel on the same ship? Isn't that just asking for trouble?"
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Post by The Forgotten God on Sept 4, 2011 8:36:18 GMT -5
"Yes. In a way. But think. If we're all on the same ship and trouble comes, no one can duck out and betray us. One way or the other, we're all in this together. Separately. If we all took our own ships we'd make it three days before someone tried pulling a fast one and destroying the others."
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