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Post by The Forgotten God on Sept 5, 2011 8:24:29 GMT -5
The woman shrugs, not seeming to understand. "I'm no musician." Ser Frances sees a grim looking man playing cards, but in a tavern with no empty seats, a seat to his left and right are to be found next to him.
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Post by Amelia Royce on Sept 5, 2011 8:31:05 GMT -5
Frances grinned. "Would you mind joining me?" He asked the woman, leading the way over to the empty seats. "I hope these aren't taken?" He asks the grim card-playing man.
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Post by The Forgotten God on Sept 5, 2011 8:36:24 GMT -5
The man looks at Sand, seeming a bit surprised at his boldness, then grunts. "Empty enough. But she better get my gods-damned refill before she takes a seat." He has an axe at his side, and old clothing covering a body that is scarred and ugly from many wounds.
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Post by Amelia Royce on Sept 5, 2011 8:38:52 GMT -5
Frances turned to the woman. "I was unaware that you were a barmaid," He says, before pulling out the seat next to the man and sitting down. "What's your name, pal?"
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Post by The Forgotten God on Sept 5, 2011 8:40:50 GMT -5
"It isn't pal." The man looked annoyed at his cards and threw them in. "Mareth of Nightsong." He spits on the ground and the serving girl, who Frances suspects seldom actually gets drinks, brings him a whiskey. Sand has heard plenty of tales of Mareth the Cruel.
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Post by Amelia Royce on Sept 5, 2011 8:44:04 GMT -5
"Frances Sand. Ser," Frances replies, taking a big sip from his drink and setting it down on the table. For a moment he considered loosening a dagger but ditched the idea for now. "So, what're we playing then, Mareth?"
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Post by The Forgotten God on Sept 5, 2011 8:45:06 GMT -5
"I'm playing seven pointed star. You're playing being a huge fucking distraction." Mareth throws some coins into the center of the table.
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Post by Amelia Royce on Sept 5, 2011 8:48:09 GMT -5
Frances chuckled. "No reason to be so dismissive, Mareth." He drank again and looked around the bar. "So what brings the Cruel to Volantis?"
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Post by The Forgotten God on Sept 5, 2011 8:49:12 GMT -5
"Violence, Sand." The change in his tone indicates he recognizes the name. "I hear they're looking for people to kill dragons. Two legged ones."
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Post by Amelia Royce on Sept 5, 2011 8:52:17 GMT -5
"I hear the same," Frances replied with a grin. "Seems to me people are a little overly scared of some Dragon King in Meereen."
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Post by The Forgotten God on Sept 5, 2011 8:54:28 GMT -5
"They are here. They're more scared of the dragon. The fire breathing one. That flies." Mareth collected his winnings from the last hand. "Whole damn armada's headed to Slaver's Bay to finish it."
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Post by Amelia Royce on Sept 5, 2011 8:58:25 GMT -5
Frances' grin widened. "And how do they expect to kill a dragon with ships? The damned thing will just burn the fleet do cinders and fly away." He downed his drink and turned to the woman. "Another of these."
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Post by The Forgotten God on Sept 5, 2011 9:02:12 GMT -5
"They killed one already, I guess. Ballistae. Fight it until it gets tired and lands, I guess. Or kill everyone riding it and then the dragon's just a damned animal." Mareth shrugged. "Either way, I smell the chance for gold." He leans in. "Shit, I'll take the dragon's coin if I have to. They don't appreciate my sort much here.
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Post by Amelia Royce on Sept 5, 2011 9:05:45 GMT -5
"Choose the winning side is what I always say," Frances replied, studying the game in play. "So, say you were to join the Dragon. How'd you go about getting to Meereen?"
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Post by The Forgotten God on Sept 5, 2011 9:07:33 GMT -5
"Word is the council here wants your ship to reach Meereen, convince ole Targy to surrender. Now, me on the other hand, I'd just take ship to Astapor and make north to Yunkai. I dare some man to try stopping me."
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