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Post by Deleted on Jul 21, 2016 18:38:21 GMT
The Red Keep, it was the most magnificent thing he had ever seen before (and probably ever will). It was a true architectural marvel. With that said, what truly astounded him wasn’t the statuettes that filled the courtyard nor was it the gardens filled to the brim with countless flowers; it wasn’t even the beautifully carved arches that introduced each individually corridor. No, what truly impressed him was how structurally sound everything was. Though no longer at the Wall (a structure three-hundred miles long and seven-hundred feet high) the wandering crow still possessed an affinity of sorts when it came to determining how structurally sound something was. “Wouldn’t want to be in charge of sieging that…” He muttered before (albeit reluctantly) turning away from the keep.
Unfortunately this wasn’t the time to sightsee. He had come to King’s Landing for one reason and one reason only; saving the realm. He had to admit though, it was nice being able to see what he was fighting for. It really put things into perspective. “Court has ended for the day, you’ll have to return again tomorrow. I apologize for the inconvenience Ser Crow.” Alexander inwardly groaned. He wasn’t surprised though, given the hour in which they arrived. “I’ll return at noon tomorrow, please inform your superiors of my arrival.” Turning swiftly on his heels Alexander disappeared amongst the thousands of people that littered the streets.
Hours passed.
‘What did I just step in?’ Honestly, it was probably best if he didn’t know. With that in mind Alexander resumed walking. Flea Bottom, the poorest slum district in King’s Landing. It also happened to be the only place Alexander and his companions could afford to stay the night (or two as it now seemed would be the case). From the human waste flowing down the streets like a river, to the prostitutes actively going about their ‘business’ in the alleyways; it quickly became apparent as to why Terroan scowled at the idea of staying here. And who could blame him? Alexander had doubts that even rats could survive in this squalor, let alone a human.
‘Now what was the inn called again?’ Alexander pondered. His other companion, Katryn Sand (a true hellcat of a woman) mentioned that he would know it when he saw it. Probably the least helpful thing Alexander had heard in a long time but nevertheless he trusted what she said to be true. Minutes later, after stepping in one too many puddles (whose contents shan't be discussed) the wandering crow reached what he assumed was his destination.
Seriously? Was this really happening?
“The Wandering Cow…how droll.” Alexander wasn’t religious by any means but even he had to admit the sheer irony of the situation. Allowing himself a small chuckle Alexander entered the establishment. Despite the district it was located in the inn itself was remarkably clean (not spotless by any means but at least he probably wouldn’t contract red fever). Nodding to the innkeeper Alexander sat down at the furthest away chair in the room. He didn’t trust the people here enough to turn his back to them so instead here he sat, alone in the corner with his back to the wall (window specifically) lazily scanning the room for any sign of his companions or threats.
The innkeep promptly poured him a tankard of ale. Alexander thanked the man (more out of respect for the gesture than the drink itself) even if he had no intentions of actually drinking it. He needed to remain alert, alcohol would only prove detrimental towards that. Besides, Alexander didn’t necessarily want to drink anything that came out of Flea’s Bottom. There were few vices Alexander allowed himself to partake in and drinking simply wasn’t one of them. With that said, pulling out a small sack Alexander took two small leaves and stuffed them into his mouth, grimacing ever so slightly at the foul bitter taste. Sourleaf. While didn’t partake in the vice nearly enough to exhibit the infamous ‘bloody smile’ Alexander has found it to be one of the few ways he can truly relax.
The sound of applause broke snapped the hooded man out of the slight daze he was previously in. Taking notice of a bard bowing to the small audience seated before him. “And now for a crowd favorite.” Alexander instantly recognized the song, ‘The Rains of Castamere.’ He wasn’t sure why but he always enjoyed the song. Perhaps it was the somber tune that appealed to him. Or perhaps he himself could relate as his family too had suffered from their liege lord. Alexander shrugged, it didn’t matter. The Reynes were all dead and soon so will all the Blacks.
Sinking deeper (if at all possible) into his seat Alexander tilted the chair back into it was on two legs. He wasn’t quite ready to retire for the night nor was he ready to seek out his companions. So here he was chewing (and spitting out excess juices) Sourleaf with his hand resting firmly on the hilt of his ancestral sword Titan’s Bite waiting for something anything to happen.
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And mine are long and sharp, my Lord. As long and sharp as yours.
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Post by Kosm Reyne on Jul 22, 2016 3:30:23 GMT
The Wandering Cow.
It was one of those rare jewels located out of the way in the bowels of Flea Bottom: spacious for a tavern, dimly lit and usually sparsely patroned, it was just the sort of inconspicuous hole-in-the-wall that beckoned Kosm. Since having moved his operations from the base of Visenya's Hill down into the slums it had become a place he frequented. The ale wasn't bad as it flowed for cheap, but the gossip flowed even cheaper if you knew where to listen.
The would-be lordling was seated in a shadowed corner of the place and he was already well into his cups, his head swimming with that woefully pleasant fuzziness that came with slight inebriation. He was dressed plainly so as not to draw attention to himself, his swordbelt strapped over the back of his chair but always within reach. However it was a tankard grasped loosely in his fist at the moment. Kosm seemed to be rather caught up in his own thoughts for the crowd within the establishment tonight had brought no new or juicy information. Just the same tired whisperings bout a Dragon Queen in Mehreen. 'To think had I stayed with the Golden Company I might have very well seen those dragons... And ended up cooked in my own armour.' He furrowed his brow and took a long quaff of the slightly bitter ale. With every gulp it became less and less repulsive. Keeping on the theme of treasonous talk there were the usual ribald jokes at the expense of the Queen Mother Cercei. Maybe that's why he liked The Wandering Cow so much. 'May her entire bloodline be damned.' And it seemed quite likely these days that they were.
Where Atalya had gotten off to he could never guess. The woman was like the wind, coasting about as she pleased. Most mornings she was gone before he had even woken up and even if he passed her on the street he doubted he would recognize her, the damnable wily Faceless. Still she had become a vast and valuable friend in the short time since their fated run-in at the Great Sept of Baelor and she had promised to meet him here tonight. She was indispensable for her ability to wander about virtually unnoticed, changing faces like most folk changed their clothes and picking up all sorts of valuable tid-bits from the commons that she therein passed on to him.
But he was drunk and she was no where to be seen.
By the smokey hearth a bard was plying his trade to a cluster of regulars. Kosm drained the dregs of his cup and raised his hand for another. As he waited he observed a newcomer stoop into the slightly too-short entrance of the tavern and paused to scan the place as if swishing it around in his mouth to see if he liked the taste. He was dressed head to toe in black, a brother of the Night's Watch... Oh how such a "noble" calling had fallen. If the gossip had anything to say about it the Night's Watch had been diminishing for some time and the Lords simply saw it as a way to rid themselves of their worst criminals whilst playing themselves at being kind and just leaders who were caring of human life. The Night's Watchman in question seemed to find the place to his liking and found a similarly secluded seat, he seemed on edge like he was waiting for someone as well. He did not touch his ale.
As much as the man in all-black had piqued his interest, Kosm suddenly heard the dulcid first notes of a familiar song plucked up by the bard's lute. The lyrics that followed made Kosm clench his teeth, as well as the fresh tankard of ale that had been set out before him. Oh to have to sit and hear the anthem that shrewd Lord Tywin had paid to be made of the massacre of Kosm's own house. Despite the drink that clouded his mind, the lordling was resourceful at least. He loosened up a bit and leaned back, called out quietly whilst gesturing rapidly . "Oi Pate.. Pate come here."
The short but, burley man who was Smelly Pate in question was a fellow Kosm liked well enough. They had gambled together a few times in this very tavern and Kosm often bought meat from Pate's wife, old and graying as it always seemed, it still paid to have good friends. Pate parted from the little group watching the bard and came to Kosm's table. He drew Pate in and whispered something in his ear before discretely placing a silver stag in his palm. Pate smiled and melted back to his spot in the bard's listeners.
Kosm stared down into his cup now and waited. A few moments later, as the bard was really getting into his lengthy version of The Rains of Castamere a meaty fist smashed his face out of nowhere. The force sent a couple of the bard's pretty teeth flying and he slumped back against the wall, his lute falling from his limp hands. Smelly Pate then melted out the door a little bit richer.
He grinned, taking a hardy swig of his mug.. Hopefully Atalya would turn up soon.
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Bastard, not a whore
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Bastard
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Dorne
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Wen
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Post by Katryn Sand on Jul 22, 2016 4:23:18 GMT
Travelling with a member of the Night’s Watch probably wasn’t the safest way for a woman to travel, they did recruit some unsavory men, but it was safer than on her own. Katryn had been surprised it was even agreed for her to come along. She had not known if he would even allow women to travel with their group. She had been sitting aside at the Wandering Cow for some time now, hood pulled up and hiding her face. Alexander would be about at some point. She was looking forward to the possibility of seeing the wall. She was not certain she would go the whole way though but she could take the opportunity. Finding a way back would be another issue though.
King’s Landing was not any thrill for her to be within. It wasn’t the first time. The best things to see were not easy to get within or to as a bastard with nothing to her advantage. She tried to climb in an area at night the last time she was here. It had been a disappointment. Only a half enjoyment like something was missing. That may have just been where she was at, at the time though. The Wandering Cow was a nice comfort though, it had not changed. A little extra had gotten her the same room as she had last time. She wondered how things had gone for Alexander today. If he had not gotten in she would see if she could come along, promise to be silent.
Without a word she slide over to join Alex at his table as he tilted his chair back. She did not pull the hood down though looked him over. If her features could have been seen under her hood a grimace would have been noticed on her face. If it was cause of the song on the sourleaf Alex was chewing she would not say. She would ask her question later. A chuckle of a gasp came from her after the bard was hit. Someone must have really hated the song. "Oh!" She was glad it had not been her playing.
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Post by Deleted on Aug 3, 2016 6:13:52 GMT
Katryn Sand | Kosm Reyne Alexander rose a brow, “Oh indeed.” What a shame, he rather enjoyed that song. What could have caused such a negative reaction? It's true the song itself is rather gruesome it detailed the destruction of a house but even then it’s just a song. It wasn’t hard to find the culprit who organized the event. An older man, blonde, powerfully built. A good candidate for the watch; not that he would join, no one joined the watch willingly these days. For good reason too, it was a far cry from what the order used to be. Too bad, the watch could have used someone like him. 'Especially in the days to come...' He thought somberly as he spat out additional sourleaf juice.
Shifting his attention away from the bard (who was now busy nursing his jaw), Alexander examined his reunited traveling companion. He rarely spoke to Katryn, it wasn’t as though he disliked her (quite the contrary she was one of the few women he could tolerate) he simply had nothing to say to her outside the occasional question or command. Had Terroan not vouched for her he wouldn’t have allowed her to travel with them. ‘There’s no point.’ He remembered himself saying; after all it wasn’t as though she could travel with them all the way back to the Wall. It was no place for a woman, no matter their temperament.
Still, he did genuinely enjoy her company (most of the time) so maybe it wouldn’t be too bad striking up a conversation with her. “Where’s Terroan?” He asked, deadpan. ‘Off to a good start.’ Alexander thought, rolling his eyes. He wasn’t made for conversation, he wasn’t sure why he bothered talking to people half of the time. Nevertheless he was too far in to quit now. “No matter. I’m sure he’ll turn up sooner or later.” He paused, pondering his next few words carefully. “Otherwise I’ll be forced to kill him.” The punishment for desertion was death and while Terroan hasn’t technically taken the black yet the situation Alexander pulled him out of basically meant he was bound to the watch already.
Sighing, Alexander looked down and noticed the ale that had been sitting on the table for the past few minutes. He still had no intention on drinking (or eating) anything that came out of his place so instead he pushed the tankard over to Katryn. “You look like you need a drink.”
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Bastard, not a whore
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Post by Katryn Sand on Aug 6, 2016 2:50:58 GMT
Katryn had pulled out an empty dram in the brief silence. She rolled the bottom edge of it in front of her along the table’s surface, the top resting against her palm. She had been about to answer Alexander when he commented to his own question first. She huffed out a breath before pulling her hood down. Her hand tucked in along her neck before pulling the long chestnut brown hair that she braided back during travel out from under her cloak and pulled the tie out to let it unfurl over her shoulder. Green eyes flickered over him. Well wasn’t he just a barrel of laughs. Her fingers wrapped around the drink and the tankard was brought to her lips. “You spoiled up there at the Wall?” She may have grown up in House Wyl but when there was nothing better she enjoyed what she could get. The drink was pushed back, half gone.
She went back to rolling the dram under her palm. Katryn did not watch the action as she did it and therefore took no notice it was close to the edge. Until it slipped and she heard the sounds of metal bouncing on the floor and roll across the surface. She hastily rose and made her way over to grab it. Not even excusing herself as she went under the table to get her cup she grabbed it from beside the man’s boot. There was a wooden thunk sound under the table followed by a groan when she caught the back of her head on the table, having misjudged how far out she had come. Her face was scrunched up as she held her head as she stood upright. She smiled sheepishly as she looked on Kosm sitting at the table and held up the dram, chuckling a little. As if that explained what just happened.
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And mine are long and sharp, my Lord. As long and sharp as yours.
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Post by Kosm Reyne on Aug 18, 2016 11:29:20 GMT
Distracted by his smile, Kosm watched out of the corner of his eye as the unconscious bard was dragged out the door by both arms. He had settled nicely into his drink, his head swam warmly and yet, where in the love of the Seven was his little Atalya, his wonderspy who saw all and spoke of everything? She should have been there by now. The whole ideal made him anxious, brought a jittery feeling to his body but Kosm clenched his teeth and stared down into his tankard and waited. She would be here soon. She would be here after al-...THUD
The lordling seemed to wake up anew, his eyes gaining their usual glimmer he jumped back as his table seemed to rise up a whole foot before setting down again. Ghosts and ghouls? No, a lady had stuck herself underneath and was trying to free herself. Kosm sat back with a bemused look upon his face watching as the table jostled before a pretty face popped up sheepishly and held up a dram in her hand as an apology. There was a haze to her eyes, she'd been drinking as well.
Kosm could not help himself. "At least buy me an ale before you dive under my table," he chuckled. "Not that I mind.. It's just common courtesy to announce yourself." He reached out and offered Katryn his hand, hoping that maybe she would sit with him. She was a gorgeous piece of work, and drunk Kosm had no problem with sharing the time of a gorgeous woman.
He had all but forgotten about the Night's Watchmen that had settled in the other corner and even the bard who had lost his teeth. Even Atalya who might show up at any moment, and to whom he held a deep connection. There was a woman in front of him, and he wished her to be more then an acquaintance. As he offered his hand to her, to hold her up he also offered her a seat. "I'll hold you no ill if you'd have a drink with me," he started with a wink. "After all you are quite beautiful." His words slurred together and yet still found their mark in being rather charming. He was a handsome man, not used to being denied.
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Bastard, not a whore
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Bastard
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Dorne
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Wen
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Post by Katryn Sand on Sept 11, 2016 5:25:24 GMT
It was not exactly a haze to Katryn’s green eyes but watering from the impact of her head against the table. Her head would probably still ache for a while from that she figured. Other than what she had just enjoyed of Alex’s drink she had not been drinking yet. She took a glance back at the man. He did not seem to want her company exactly and had threatened Terroan’s life, even if he may have possibly been joking. Maybe. From their time together he seemed to tolerate her being about. She would not mind the company, for the time, of someone who didn’t just do so. She did not know when Terroan would be making his way here at The Wandering Cow.
“Perhaps, just a drink.” Katryn may have flushed a little at his compliment if she was not used to it. Even being the bastard daughter of a lady, perhaps that made the words come to other’s tongues easier at times. She could not be sure if so or not though. It was not something she had ever really thought past. She always left the thought there cause it did not matter as much to her now as it used to. Sitting she spoke. “I am Katryn, and you are?” She held the cup she had chased close against her chest. It was something of her own that perhaps she should not have fidgeted with in such a place. A simple thing to lose in a place that served drinks. Even still her thumb ran across its surface.
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