| Beast of the Woods |
| Summary: | The Questing Blackwood party encounters something in the woods. |
| Date: | Date of play (12/07/2014) |
| Related: | None |
| Players: |
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Evening. It's been a long road up along the banks of the Honeywine River, and a small party of armed soldiers carrying banners flanks a number of riders. Banners of the Royal Dragon of House Targaryen and the sad, and the creepy Ravens and great dead tree of House Blackwood are present, indicating who is likely along for this little jaunt. As the road comes over a gentle hill, a village is seen in the distance. It's got — well, it's a village. Buildings, smallfolk, a few armsmen and malcontents but nothing really out of the ordinary. The village is called Silverpool, named for a nearby lake.
Speaking of one of those riders, Riderch Blackwood is among them, decked out in servicable brigadine — lightweight plate-on-maile of a blackened hue, leaning over on his horse of the same hue. It's hot, and he stops to whip out a waterskin, bringing to his lips and wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand.
One of the joys of riding under the colours of Blackwood, is the fact that you get a good colour scheme. Those Pipers from pinkmaiden have likely the worst livery in the Riverlands, discounting the many fish themed or river themed houses out there. As it is, another man in Blackwood black is soon to approach Riderch's horse, his own armor of mail and brigadine-though of a more shabbily done motiff. The single eye and thick leather patch does give him away as one Jorah Rivers, who upon stopping next to his half brother, takes time to adjust the helm that slaps close to his leg, from where it is trapped to his saddle.
"It never lets up eh?" he asks with toothy grin. "The heat-no matter where you go in th' Reach it's as if you're riding cunwet."
At least one among the group is not wearing armor of any sort, but instead is bedecked in something lighter, and far more friendly to the oppressive weather. Elionys wears a rich blue dress designed for riding, with long splits in the skirt to reveal trousers and tall boots beneath, allowing the princess to ride astride without being too immodest. She's near the Blackwood men, namely Riderch, though as Jorah speaks she shoots a look in his direction. Riding like you're… right. She doesn't say anything, and instead looks ahead to the village and those that stop to watch their approach.
@emit The ride along the road is quiet, one might notice. Occasionally, a leaf falls from a tree, drifting quietly down to the ground. The song of birds is noticeably absent in a way it wasn't earlier and in a way that is unusual for the time of day. There is a stillness to this dusk, only broken by the riders on the road.%r%rThen, from the western part of the woods comes a sound. Leaves crunch under what might be hooves or perhaps very heavy boots. Branches snap suddenly and fall. A breath, a huff, is carried away on a breeze, along with a soft creaking of tanned flesh and metal.
The ride along the road is quiet, one might notice. Occasionally, a leaf falls from a tree, drifting quietly down to the ground. The song of birds is noticeably absent in a way it wasn't earlier and in a way that is unusual for the time of day. There is a stillness to this dusk, only broken by the riders on the road.
Then, from the western part of the woods comes a sound. Leaves crunch under what might be hooves or perhaps very heavy boots. Branches snap suddenly and fall. A breath, a huff, is carried away on a breeze, along with a soft creaking of tanned flesh and metal.
"Heh. First Winter in the Reach will be something, whenever the White bird's loosed." The technical Blackwood says to the non-traditional Blackwood. He does, however, clear his throat towards his bastard brother making a show of propriety, knitting his brows and looking towards Jorah after slowly shaking his head.
Bringing his mount to a halt, he looks from the man to the blue-clad Princess. He offers his waterskin to Jorah but manages to produce another one from his saddlebag and hefting it towards Elionys in a slow, offering gesture and cracking a grin. "It's water, not wine." Whatever else he was about to say is cut off by a sudden sound that he seemed to take notice of. "Wait — you hear that?"
"Gods hope I am back in Battle Valley by then." Jorah remarks before he is looking back towards where Elionys is and there's a shrug after a moment. "She's with you all the time. I think she'd be used to it by now. Either by myself or Hoaresbane.." still with wayward look he's clearing his throat and looking over to the Princess. "Sorry, your grace." murmured out as contrite as a bastard can be.
Jorah, however has both-water and wine and it's not clear which of his wineskins he produces as he's busy chugging. Likely water-as even his own fortitude isn't that good. A cough and sputter follows, before he is looking back towards Riderch. "Huh?" and then wildly looking away.
<FS3> Jorah rolls Alertness: Success.
<FS3> Riderch rolls Alertness: Good Success.
Elionys smiles vaguely at Jorah, making a mild sort of gesture that could mean anything. It's with that hand that she reaches for the waterskin offered, though the question from Riderch has her pausing to glance around. "Hear what?" she asks, quietly, clearly having not heard anything yet.
Something looms up out of the dusky light in the woods as another branch is snapped from a tree. Lit from behind there is more shadow then detail at first. Large as a draft horse, the things seems to made of limbs and heads, awkward things of all shapes and sizes sticing out at all angles from the solid torso that glints whites and silvers where the light touches it…as well as a hodge-podge of browns and greys like a monstrous calico. It seems entirely unnatural at first glance, with multiple heads and an abundance of claws and antlers sticking out.
A bird screams into the evening, the sound of a large predator.
There were those rumors of a beast Questing knights were going after…
"I know, but —" Riderch begins, a little haplessly towards Jorah. "I'm not the sort to take anyone for granted." It's almost like he needn't even say that but he does anyway. Handing over the waterskin to Elionys now, he turns to address her. A few of the guards brought with them glance around, and look up just as Riderch does as he's about to answer the Princess.
Now it seems he has a bit more to mention. "That." As the bird screams out, Blackwood's hand goes to his swordhilt. "That's a big, bloody bird allright. Not a gyrfalcon, though." He's probably been around Ainsley's massive Raptor enough that he knows what one sounds like. Meanwhile, he stares out towards the woods. "What in the name of theh bloody ancestors?" He asks, on edge. "Might want to be ready!"
Riderch pages: screeeeeech
"It must be fire whales.." Jorah murmurs as he turns his head towards the sounds coming from the woods. "THey say they can come upon the land when they're young.." Likely some cockeyed story from the Cape of Eagles, yet it has remained with the Blackwood bastard all this time. And there as something looms up from the dusky sky, Jorah is quick to grab and finger at a leather strap which dives down behind leather and mail. Finger it lightly he's turning about his steed as one hand is out to the tall squire coming up behind him.
"Spear me.." Jorah whispers.
Elionys doesn't see the thing right off, though she does hear the scream, and it's that cry that makes her turn to look off toward the trees. "What's… what is that?" she asks, not going for a weapon. She hasn't a weapon on her to go for, and so instead she looks around to the others, then back to the beast.
The thing lumbers closer, parts of it swaying as it moves. And then…Well, that's not a roar. Or even another screech. It lets out a foul-mouthed curse? "Bloody buttered nipples on a sea wench…where's that blasted road…" Another branch is summarily snapped off a tree. As it gets closer, the strangeness abates somewhat, and it's easier to pick out the shape of a horse and rider, though it still seems to have way too many limbs and claws and antlers still. An eagle appears to be perched atop one of the rider's arms.
Just to be sure, Riderch's sword (which was at his side) is half-out of its sheath. And because ha ha Chivalry and all that he looks towards Elionys and indicates to a couple of the men to move in. Which of course was something they were already doing because they don't need a crazy-eyed Riverlander to tell them how to do their jobs. Not that he really notices any of this.
"That's not a fire whale, you bloody lummox. Everyone knows they cannot venture this far South." He hisses to Jorah. Apparently he's aware of these things too. "The —"
His mouth opens and closes as a voice is now heard. Blink-blink. "HULLO THERE!" He calls out to the grumbling voice, maybe a touch of a bemusement in his greeting. Do bandits always do this?
When the Rider does appear to be that, a rider-Jorah almost feels damned foolish with a spear in his hands, ready to somewhat impale the blighter. And with the cursing that has followed from the rider, there's a look towards the Large squire, before he is turning his horse away. "Well now I need to part the water-now that that mystery has been shorn up." And he looks back on towards the Village, they were headed for. A look is given Riderch. "If you all mosey on, I'll catch up.." A strained look, and he is off to find a tree.
The guards that came with Elionys do in fact move in closer, one on each side of the Princess, watching the lumbering beast with a sharp curiosity. One of them, the guard to her right, struggles to hold back laughter when the beast begins to curse, and the one on the left, looks none too happy. Were he not on duty, the cursing not-beast might still be in for it. The Princess herself looks awfully worried at first, and when the thing is revealed to not, in fact, be a dangerous creature, she laughs. "Who goes there?"
By the time the rider gets close enough to be seen as just that and to see those out on the road bellowing at him, he looks mighty confused at all the weaponry out. "What's going on 'ere?" Out of the shadows looms Prospero Storm, riding his white steed stained by dirt and something darker and rust colored. He does still indeed seem to be made of clawed limbs and antlers, but as his horse steps closer to the road and out of the shadows of trees more of the details appear. For slumped over the rump of his horse is a buck of a deer, slumped awkwardly along with other critters of the forest all trussed to his saddles and bags.
"Always keep your eye open, Jorah." Riderch declares to his bastard brother as he rides on, simply shaking his head and offering a wry smile. "Particularly when you're —"
Ahem. At any rate, Blackwood's sword is half-held out of its sheath for a second more and then as the BEAST OF THE WOOD approaches, it is shoved neatly back into its scabbard and he looks towards Elionys. And then back to the Questing Beast that probably bears a score of other names, and scores of children across the land bearing 'his'. And for a moment? He just stares at Prospero. And then bursts out a howling, wheezing peal of laughter, it's so violent that he almost doubles over in his saddle.
It's when Prospero comes into sight that Elionys' smile brightens significantly, and more laughter follows. "Ser Prospero!" she all but cheers, words followed by even more laughter. "You looked quite the fright there when you were approaching, I think we all thought you were some kind of beast."
"What're you laughing at, you bloody Blackwood?" Prospero bellows, all seemingly affronted dignity after the Riverlander stares at him a moment and then nearly doubles over with laughter. The Stormlands knight walks his horse onto the road proper, pulling the beast up besides the party. "Least we seem to have found the road, aye?" He pats his steed on the neck, the horse giving a patient sort of snort and shake of his head. The eagle shuffles her footing and digs her talons in hard. Thankfully he is wearing thick leather and armor, so it doesn't have the effect the bird might want. Can an eagle look disappointed? This one does a little. All the other animals he carries with him are really dead. It's a little impressive and a little gross. He does not bellow at Elionys. "Oh, but I am, aren't I?" He counters with a broad grin under his bushy mustache.
"What was it, the head of a ram, and the hindquarters of a lion?" Riderch manages to choke these words out through the laughter. "If it — soothes your wounded pride," he continues, the loud outbursts dying down as he manages more coherent speech now, but his voice is still dripping with mirth. Neither the men wearing his House's livery or his horse seem to be affronted by the outburst, this sort of thing likely happens a lot.
"I wasn't laughing at you, rather the thought of you as Lorant Tyrell's fantastical creature placed within the Reach to waylay unsuspecting and foolish Knights." He pauses a beat. "Maybe that's not a bad idea. I see you brought your girl." He points to the Eagle. "But more or less — what Her Grace said. What are you doing all the way out here?" He's a fine one to ask that question.
"You've quite the array of game there, Ser," Elionys points out with a gesture towards Prospero's horse. His grin is answered with one in return, and then a quick shake of her head. "Not at all, Ser! Not at all. Or if so to some, you're not to me," she informs him, quick to slip from the saddle and land on the ground with ease. "I always imagine beasts to be frightening, and I can't say that you seem that way to me at all." She pauses a moment to consider this. "Of course, that's likely because I've never had to fight you. I would like for it to say that way, too."
"You've quite the array of game there, Ser," Elionys points out with a gesture towards Prospero's horse. His grin is answered with one in return, and then a quick shake of her head. "Not at all, Ser! Not at all. Or if so to some, you're not to me," she informs him, quick to slip from the saddle and land on the ground with ease. "I always imagine beasts to be frightening, and I can't say that you seem that way to me at all." She pauses a moment to consider this. "Of course, that's likely because I've never had to fight you. I would like for it to say that way, too."
"Oh, aye." At Riderch's explanation even Prospero has a good chuckle at the thought. "Been tracking that beast myself, or so I thought. Caught every manner of other creature that lives in these woods, it seems, but aye…nothing so unusual as that." This time when he grins is a little sharper and there's a gleam in those stormy blue eyes. "If that boy found me he'd be in for one bloody surprise, that he would, haha. I'm a sight more difficult to put down than some wild beastie." Poor Loryn. He wouldn't even know what hit him. Quite literally, potentially, if the knight loomed out of the woods like he just did to the Blackwood party. "I did, I did…She's responsible for the deer." Is he telling the truth? It does not seem like that is the truth.
The Oncoming Storm leans a little forward, his saddle creaking. "Not sure a lot of the Dornish would agree with you there, Princess, but I suppose I'll take that as a compliment, as you seem to mean it as one." It's hard to imagine him as bean frightening when you've only seen him behave like a jolly Santa and not a homicidal hurricane. "And what brings you all out here?" He squints, looking from the men to the princess. "This isn't some sort of kidnapping is it?" Doubtful. He's probably joking. "Because just give me a sign, little Princess, and I'll whisk you away from these coarse men, quick as you please."
Blackwood himself lingers in his saddle a little bit longer, sitting straight up in it. He takes a hit off his waterskin and stuffs it back in his saddlebag, producing a wineskin now as he manages to dismount, carefully. Armor and all. "Oh, that beast. Well - us? That's nothing of the sort!" He wrinkles his nose at the accusation of kidnapping. "Just for that, I'll drink your share too." He indicates as he holds up the wineskin. And hesitates to drink from it. Well, he's probably joking too.
"We're escaping some nonsense with a Dragon and I convinced her Grace here to muddle up and down the Riverside looking for the final resting place of King Mern." He pauses a moment, before dropping a big-ass spoiler. "We haven't found anything, yet." He gives Elionys a sidelong glancec and a slight shrug, one shoulder higher than the other before offering up the wineskin towards the already-laden Prospero.
"I suppose that is one very good reason to be glad that I'm not Dornish," Elionys remarks with that still bright smile aimed up at the elder knight. "I do mean it as a compliment though, and nothing else," she vows, but the words are delivered cheerfully. The question from the knight gets a laugh, a glance ever so slowly sliding Riderch's way, then back to the Oncoming Storm. She doesn't say anything, but one hand creeps up to give her earlobe a tug. Is that a sign? It might be. It also might be hard to take it too seriously when she's grinning as it's given.
"You drink my share and you'll not be able to get back up on your mount," Prospero counters with a hearty enough laugh that he upsets his eagle for a moment. "Shh, shh," he soothes her, and she nips peevishly at his fingers before subsiding. "A dragon? I guess I could go after a dragon." He squints and looks up at the sky, as if considering or waiting for the damn thing to appear right then and there. He doesn't seem entirely serious, though, about marching off after the thing. "Well, you've found me, but I can only tell you of the final resting place of some woodland creatures and not a kin among them." The wineskin is taken with a thanks, drunk from, and then handed back. It's even got wine left in it. So polite. "Always a good thing," he tells Elionys, then his brows lift, staring at her a moment. Then his gaze slides over to Riderch and the other men with him and the road in a considering type way.
"That's a different kind of challenge." Riderch intones to Prospero on the subject of wine consumption. And quantity. He watches Elionys now, catching her glance, ear-tug and all and his face screws up in a mischevious half-grin, bringing his hand upwards, three fingers extended sideways in it as he brushes it against his forehead and then the top of his skull. Maybe that is a sign as well.
His eyes are on the eagle here, at least briefly, as he counters, "I wouldn't recommend going anywhere near that dragon. There's been entirely too much of that of late." Accepting the wineskin back, he manages that same crooked grin again.
"Yes," Elionys agrees with the opinion on staying away from the dragon, all while adopting a look of innocence. Did she just signal the Oncoming Storm for help? No, not her. Definitely not. "My cousin thought mistakenly that she'd be able to influence it, and was wrong. Which is now clearer to her, and hopefully everyone else."
"That it is, that it is." A different kind of challenge. "Only influence I'd be interested in acting on a dragon is with this." Prospero pats his great maul, but he follows it up to say. "Not the animal I was looking for, though. Damn near depopulated the forest at this point, so I might as well head back to town." A beat and he adds, "Also I ran out of anything to drink." Which is super important if you're going to wander around in the woods, obviously. His mount shuffles a little where it stands as the knight adjusts himself in saddle.
"But if you can't fell a great beast, then you might as well rescue a damsel, aye? Alleoop!" Poor Elionys. She really should have known better that to encourage the man. Prospero kicks his horse and sweeps the princess up with an arm, his eagle protesting with a screech and a flap of wings, though she can't actually fly off, tethered as she is and doesn't try. She gets sat side-saddle and held onto to keep her from falling as he trots off, the pile of animals and saddlebags shaking and his horse whinnying in protest at more added weight. In truth, his escape isn't made very quickly, weighted down as he is. "See you at the village!" One of these days someone is going to ask for his head and get it.
"Wait. Does that mean I'm —" Riderch certainly had something lined up here to say. Was it on dragons? It doesn't really matter here as that just happened, and Blackwood stands openmouthed. He finally ambles into his saddle, looking at the men with them. His own and Elionys'. "Well? Are we just going to fucking sit here? I think someone just issued a challenge."
Elionys makes a yelping sort of sound when she's swept up onto the back of Prospero's horse, but as she's settled there with her legs dangling over one side, she makes absolutely no effort to get away. This is Prospero Storm. Instead, she laughs, tilting her head back enough to look over the shoulder of the Oncoming Storm to the group they're leaving behind. "Do you rescue damsels often? You seem awfully adept at it."
The guards that were with her just sigh, and follow along after the Princess and the knight that 'rescued' her.
A couple of the Blackwood men snicker, including Riderch's squire who seems to enjoy reacting to amusing things that happen to his Lord. At his expense. The Knight himself, to his credit, just seems mildly annoyed as he readies himself in the saddle. "I should have at least taken a fucking pheasant off the back of his horse before he pulled that." And with that, he rides off into the village, too.