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Post by The Forgotten God on Sept 12, 2011 7:44:33 GMT -5
The barkeep thinks a moment, then pulls four silver coins from a bag and puts them on the table and points at them.
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Post by Amelia Royce on Sept 12, 2011 7:46:12 GMT -5
"Four silver for a bottle of wine?" He asks, taking out the money and placing it on the bar. "And he doesn't even speak my bloody language."
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Post by The Forgotten God on Sept 12, 2011 7:54:17 GMT -5
The wine tastes extremely dry but it has a flavor Frances has never tasted before. The barkeep goes back to his spot and hands other patrons their drinks.
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Post by Amelia Royce on Sept 12, 2011 7:57:21 GMT -5
After drinking for a while Frances decides the wine was a pointless endeavor. Re-corking the thing he leaves the tavern and heads back to where they slept, leaving the wine beside Humble's bed.
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Post by The Forgotten God on Sept 12, 2011 7:59:48 GMT -5
The next day the six remount and head south. Humble is still in obvious pain but he pushes on. Cassandra's leg is double-wrapped to reduce chafing on the still-injured leg, but the rest of the group is feeling good after their battle. Ser Hollis takes his place at the head of the formation, his dark, brooding expression another constant in the seemingly endless sands and gray of the road.
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Post by Amelia Royce on Sept 12, 2011 8:04:46 GMT -5
"Sure is a grim place," Frances pointed out to no one in particular, though he rode just in front of Cassandra, his hand always ready with his spear.
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Post by The Forgotten God on Sept 12, 2011 8:08:13 GMT -5
"Not so different from Dorne, I wouldn't think." Cassandra says while she rides on, her teeth gritted. "Sand, sun, and bandits."
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Post by Amelia Royce on Sept 12, 2011 8:10:13 GMT -5
"Far less sand in the marches," Frances replied with a chuckle. "And the sand here is different... rougher, uglier. But if you want to see Dorne just let me know and we can run away together."
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Post by The Forgotten God on Sept 12, 2011 8:12:54 GMT -5
"I can't run anywhere at the moment," she points out. "But I appreciate the offer." In the distance, black towers can be seen. "Yunkai isn't so far away, now."
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Post by Amelia Royce on Sept 12, 2011 8:15:23 GMT -5
"It's even uglier than Meereen," Frances mumbles, before riding forward next to Clegane. "So, big man, up for another fight? Likely we'll get one soon enough."
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Post by The Forgotten God on Sept 12, 2011 8:16:42 GMT -5
"You called that a fight. I didn't even bleed. Training yard was more dangerous." Dondarrion's chuckling can be heard at the big man's condescension.
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Post by Amelia Royce on Sept 13, 2011 19:41:21 GMT -5
Frances shook his head. "In that case maybe you should fight without armour; give everyone else a bit of a chance."
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Post by The Forgotten God on Sept 14, 2011 8:15:55 GMT -5
"Fight to kill, not to give a chance. Looking pretty means being dead." Hollis squints. "Running low on ale."
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Post by Amelia Royce on Sept 14, 2011 8:18:28 GMT -5
Frances laughed. "I didn't figure you for a drinker, Clegane, but it seems these are times for surprises." He looked ahead and studied the black towers in the distance.
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Post by The Forgotten God on Sept 14, 2011 8:20:35 GMT -5
The city looms large soon enough, and the party rides into it. It's smaller than Meereen apparently, but King's Landing would be devoured whole by it still. "We'll stay here two nights to rest, get fresh horses and then continue on." Cassandra says.
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