Post by Ser Pounce on Oct 11, 2012 16:18:21 GMT -5
Blane the Red Handed
Fighting
-Weapons
--Two handed
---Swords 75
--Small Blades (Melee and thrown) 60
-Armor
--Chain (25 Points)
Leadership:
-Battle
--Land 100 (130 spent)
---Ambush 50
---Siege 50
---Scouting 50
---Command 80
---Cavalry 50
---Raiding 50
--Rallying 50
--Logistics 50
Physical abilities
--Stealth
---Disguise
---Concealment
---Sneaking
---Observation
--Athletics (100)
---Horsemanship 50
(Jousting Lance + Horsemanship=total joust score for tourneys)
---Swimming 50
---Unarmed combat 50
---Sprinting 50
---Agility 50
---Sleight of Hand 50
Written by the hand of Scribe Malon and the Scribe Jaren with annotations of his own in brackets.
Blayn the Red 'anded
Blaine waz burn by a moter, sired by a fater. ('e is an urdinary man!)
E grew up in the Nort to a prominent family. Ztarkz? (I ave eard tey are descended frum beasts)
iz naked budy az much air un it.
I ave zeen it in te dark. (It waz an unfurtunate nyt tat I du nut want tu repeat)
Fuck wax zealz, Blane the Red anded uses his and to ztamp cuntracts. (I ad to include tis, e treatened me)
(Mure sereasly...) Blane as earned a name fur imself as a competent leader of men in battle having fowt winninguly in several campaigns in the Free City. (Mastly true)
is men respect im, and e pay tham well. (I ave never seen a mur prufeshenal followin tu a man as roguish as tis airy creature.)
e employs a cribe to take nuate of his deeds wherever e gues.
At this point there is a noticeable shift in writing.
(This is now me, Scribe Jaren of Braavos. Ser Malon was sadly killed. May he rest in peace. A little about me before I delve into speaking about Blane, quite an astounding man if I may say so! I was born to a wealthy family. My father placed great importance on education. Foremost was that of writing, history, and languages. Languages would be essential for my livliehood, my father told me. And he was correct. I have been able to travel to many parts of the Free Cities, and get by with my language knowledge, whereas, if I had not known the language, I would have promptly found myself in a ditch because of some slight or other that I had performed by not speaking properly. I once saw a man who had travelled from Braavos to Pentos with me, a good man and fairly rich in coin and especially rich in spirit. However, he did not know any languages. I could not respect him or take him seriously as a traveller. When we arrived in Pentos, there was a great deal of commotion at the gates. I could understand what the commotion was a bout, there was tension between Braavos and Pentos for some reason or other. I was not well versed in Politics in my schooling, which was unfortunate, but then again, my knowledge in the languages was what saved me in this instance. The man that was rich in coin had not a head for any of the nonsense that was going on. He tried to offer his coins in a bag so that he would be allowed entry. This bag was quickly snatched away and no sooner had it been snatched away, but his bottom was poked with a spear, to send a message to him that he should turn his back on the gates of Pentos, and return to Braavos. Of course, since I knew the language of the guardsmen, I was able to pass myself off as a local, simply returning from a short journey. But enough about me for a moment, let us return to the subject of this scroll!)
(My most important entry to date is) “The Battle of the Only Dawn of the Day”. (There is only one dawn in a day! That was what Blaine said, and I am still trying to make sense of it. I was once in Myr, (a quite fascinating city, one of my favourites in fact, do not get me started about the women there!) and I had heard some men talking, (I understood them because I knew the language they were speaking, once again, the use of language triumphed that day), in a most unintelligble way, as if they were speaking some new tongue, (like I say before I understood the language, but to be clear, they were speaking politics or some kind of it, which like I mentioned before as well, I do not have a head for.) They were using many different terms and phrases such as “Darkness comes”, “Do not put all your eggs into a single cart”. I shook my head at this point and walked away to the market, because I had a new hunger for eggs, and I like them as fresh as they can be from the farmers cart.) Where was I? Oh yes, the battle! It was quite a stoic affair by Blaine! I can see why his men respect him, and why they can tell he is a north man. He is brave as an ox and I saw him cleave a man in half with his large sword. (It was quite the display! Although I am quite squeamish and was hiding underneath a wagon at the time, writing as much as I could of the day. It was very warm as it is wont to be in the Free Cities, and I wager if I was a man that was a wagerer, that it was particularly more warmer than it had been for several years, moreso than I could remember from the previous years before it. I was hidden under the cart, and a scorpion was slowly walking its way toward me. I had never felt more in danger in my life than before that day with this small black creature,( who I have heard are severely poisonous although some peoples eat them.) Blane would rescue me from that situation, as a man that he engaged with clattered onto the cart, which knocked a pot on top of my head. The next thing I knew was that I had been placed in a bed to recover from my mortal injury to write another day!)
Silly me! My mind seems to wander. AS mentioned before, Blane is a northman. Filled with courage and rage. But also some sense of humour. He has travelled around Westeros and the Free Cities. He is known as the Red Handed, because he will do deeds that others will not do themselves. He gets blood on his hands! That is what he tells me. The fighting spirit amongst the corps is the highest I have seen in my journies.
The appearance of him is being of tall height, his hair is shaved, but the rest of the body he leaves to grow like an animal. He has plentiful scars from his fighting. He wields a two handed sword to cleave foes, and free them of the use of their limbs (or head).
Fighting
-Weapons
--Two handed
---Swords 75
--Small Blades (Melee and thrown) 60
-Armor
--Chain (25 Points)
Leadership:
-Battle
--Land 100 (130 spent)
---Ambush 50
---Siege 50
---Scouting 50
---Command 80
---Cavalry 50
---Raiding 50
--Rallying 50
--Logistics 50
Physical abilities
--Stealth
---Disguise
---Concealment
---Sneaking
---Observation
--Athletics (100)
---Horsemanship 50
(Jousting Lance + Horsemanship=total joust score for tourneys)
---Swimming 50
---Unarmed combat 50
---Sprinting 50
---Agility 50
---Sleight of Hand 50
Written by the hand of Scribe Malon and the Scribe Jaren with annotations of his own in brackets.
Blayn the Red 'anded
Blaine waz burn by a moter, sired by a fater. ('e is an urdinary man!)
E grew up in the Nort to a prominent family. Ztarkz? (I ave eard tey are descended frum beasts)
iz naked budy az much air un it.
I ave zeen it in te dark. (It waz an unfurtunate nyt tat I du nut want tu repeat)
Fuck wax zealz, Blane the Red anded uses his and to ztamp cuntracts. (I ad to include tis, e treatened me)
(Mure sereasly...) Blane as earned a name fur imself as a competent leader of men in battle having fowt winninguly in several campaigns in the Free City. (Mastly true)
is men respect im, and e pay tham well. (I ave never seen a mur prufeshenal followin tu a man as roguish as tis airy creature.)
e employs a cribe to take nuate of his deeds wherever e gues.
At this point there is a noticeable shift in writing.
(This is now me, Scribe Jaren of Braavos. Ser Malon was sadly killed. May he rest in peace. A little about me before I delve into speaking about Blane, quite an astounding man if I may say so! I was born to a wealthy family. My father placed great importance on education. Foremost was that of writing, history, and languages. Languages would be essential for my livliehood, my father told me. And he was correct. I have been able to travel to many parts of the Free Cities, and get by with my language knowledge, whereas, if I had not known the language, I would have promptly found myself in a ditch because of some slight or other that I had performed by not speaking properly. I once saw a man who had travelled from Braavos to Pentos with me, a good man and fairly rich in coin and especially rich in spirit. However, he did not know any languages. I could not respect him or take him seriously as a traveller. When we arrived in Pentos, there was a great deal of commotion at the gates. I could understand what the commotion was a bout, there was tension between Braavos and Pentos for some reason or other. I was not well versed in Politics in my schooling, which was unfortunate, but then again, my knowledge in the languages was what saved me in this instance. The man that was rich in coin had not a head for any of the nonsense that was going on. He tried to offer his coins in a bag so that he would be allowed entry. This bag was quickly snatched away and no sooner had it been snatched away, but his bottom was poked with a spear, to send a message to him that he should turn his back on the gates of Pentos, and return to Braavos. Of course, since I knew the language of the guardsmen, I was able to pass myself off as a local, simply returning from a short journey. But enough about me for a moment, let us return to the subject of this scroll!)
(My most important entry to date is) “The Battle of the Only Dawn of the Day”. (There is only one dawn in a day! That was what Blaine said, and I am still trying to make sense of it. I was once in Myr, (a quite fascinating city, one of my favourites in fact, do not get me started about the women there!) and I had heard some men talking, (I understood them because I knew the language they were speaking, once again, the use of language triumphed that day), in a most unintelligble way, as if they were speaking some new tongue, (like I say before I understood the language, but to be clear, they were speaking politics or some kind of it, which like I mentioned before as well, I do not have a head for.) They were using many different terms and phrases such as “Darkness comes”, “Do not put all your eggs into a single cart”. I shook my head at this point and walked away to the market, because I had a new hunger for eggs, and I like them as fresh as they can be from the farmers cart.) Where was I? Oh yes, the battle! It was quite a stoic affair by Blaine! I can see why his men respect him, and why they can tell he is a north man. He is brave as an ox and I saw him cleave a man in half with his large sword. (It was quite the display! Although I am quite squeamish and was hiding underneath a wagon at the time, writing as much as I could of the day. It was very warm as it is wont to be in the Free Cities, and I wager if I was a man that was a wagerer, that it was particularly more warmer than it had been for several years, moreso than I could remember from the previous years before it. I was hidden under the cart, and a scorpion was slowly walking its way toward me. I had never felt more in danger in my life than before that day with this small black creature,( who I have heard are severely poisonous although some peoples eat them.) Blane would rescue me from that situation, as a man that he engaged with clattered onto the cart, which knocked a pot on top of my head. The next thing I knew was that I had been placed in a bed to recover from my mortal injury to write another day!)
Silly me! My mind seems to wander. AS mentioned before, Blane is a northman. Filled with courage and rage. But also some sense of humour. He has travelled around Westeros and the Free Cities. He is known as the Red Handed, because he will do deeds that others will not do themselves. He gets blood on his hands! That is what he tells me. The fighting spirit amongst the corps is the highest I have seen in my journies.
The appearance of him is being of tall height, his hair is shaved, but the rest of the body he leaves to grow like an animal. He has plentiful scars from his fighting. He wields a two handed sword to cleave foes, and free them of the use of their limbs (or head).