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    1. agentmanatee 9 yrs ago
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8 yrs ago
Current The Hateful eight has me inspired, whose ready for a western RP?
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8 yrs ago
BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD! SKULLS FOR THE SKULL THRONE! WHEN THE GALAXY BURNS, WE WILL DEFINE RIGHTEOUSNESS!
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8 yrs ago
[i]BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD! SKULLS FOR THE SKULL THRONE! WHEN THE GALAXY BURNS, WE WILL DEFINE RIGHTEOUSNESS![/i]
8 yrs ago
BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD! SKULLS FOR THE SKULL THRONE!
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Lord Barristan





Little stirred in the lush, dense Rainwood. Distant birds called but there was little else to grace the ears of men this morning. The short storm the night before left much evidence of its passing with felled trees and disturbed underbrush, and still, fog hung to the canopy of pines and blanketed the ground like the wispy, thin veil of a maiden. Through this did Lord Barristan's footfalls make for an unexpected breaking of the silence of the wood.

Having some days ago departed from Storms End with ample retainers and companions to attend the royal wedding Barristan had insisted on stopping near the end of the Rainwood for a boar hunt. The hunt had begun hours ago and eventually, the large party of noble companions had split up in order to cover more ground and stand a better chance at making a kill. Brus had taken off with his young and rowdy fellow knights, many other Lords and Knights had formed smaller hunting parties including Lord Caryll Connington. Barristan however had by far the smallest party comprising only himself and his squire and son Selwyn. It had been a few hours now since they had slipped his other retainers and made off into the wood at Barristans urging, their voices long since replaced by only Barristans own.

"Every feast I've ever been to since I was a man, I've eaten a kill of my own! Royal wedding or not I won't break that tradition now! We'll show up to Kings Landing with a nice fat boar I put my spear through, or I'll wear a dress to the tourney!", his coarse laugh rumbled through the trees, seeming to shake their branches as he boasted to his son. "I hope to find one as big as that which I ate at my fifteenth name-day! A real monster it was! Took three spears to bring him down! Think the boar who killed King Robert was as big?!", he turned to his son with his beaming smile.

Selwyn smirked at his fathers urging, "As fat as I've heard tell he was it'd have to be or its tusks wouldn't breach his fat.", eliciting a deep laugh from Barristan in response, who responded quickly, "Sharp boy, sharp indeed! Gods a boar! Selwyn if a boar kills me, you have my permission to toss me into the sea for being such a fool.", Selwyn chuckled at his father's joke, ensuring Barristan retained his sunny attitude. "I hope you get one too Selwyn, and your brother! Imagine it three Baratheons and three great spitted boars! We'll have provided half the main course! I'll have to charge King Aegon when he gets back! Can't have such fine hunter for free!", At the mention of his brother Selwyn seemed to darken, much to Barristans chagrin.

Brothers may bicker often, but sometimes Barristan thought his sons may want to kill each other in recent months... maybe for years now. Barristan was only just back to himself he felt, the last two years being given back to him by the grace of the seven and Maester Davos' medicines. During that time he'd watched his sons at each other's throats, relentlessly in competition. Perhaps he could finally put an end to it at Kings Landing...

Barristan cleared his throat after a surprising silence, "You'll meet your bride in Kings Landing." Selwyn stopped at that, consternation writ heavy upon his face, "Father I-", Barristan rounded on his rounded on Selwyn, looming over his son darkly, "I'll not hear it! You are to marry a woman I choose as is my right as your father and Lord, and you will do as you're told as an obedient son! You're at the right age and I've managed a fine match, a Princess of Dorne, and you will marry her! If nothing else it shall put a stop to the rumors and lies that my bannermen bandy about! Is that understood?", Selwyn glowered at his father's scalding and Barristan met his gaze hardily.

Selwyn, although younger than his brother, was as much Barristans son and a Baratheon. Already broad of shoulder and tall at fourteen name days and still growing no one could deny Selwyn's blood but that was not Barristan's concern. "Yes.", was all the squire managed, his eyes burning circles of hot blue flame. With that Barristan turned, father and son now stalking through the Rainwood in uncomfortable silence.

It felt like many more hours as they stalked through the misty morning, slower than Barristan would like but he had little choice. He could not move as he once had in younger days before his injuries, wounds that now haunted his every step with pain often running up his right leg if he went too fast or rested too long or simply moved incorrectly and a growing concern of gout was less than welcome. The cool air seemed to help, his body obeying him for once without the need for heavy drink to dull himself though a slight ache would always remain. It hurt more the longer they went however and Barristan's patience began to run thin as he followed the signs of a boar. It had been years since he'd done any hunting without dogs and more men, perhaps they should turn back for a better chance he thought, but was halted in his thoughts abruptly as he spotted prey and crouched low to avoid its sight.

He had been tracking no boar but had mistakenly come upon a stags tracks it seemed. A noble, no kingly stag stood scraping its antlers upon a great pine tree. The beasts rack was magnificent and bloodied from its scraping, giving it a disturbing visage as blood dripped down its head to stead its dark brown fur. The loud scratching must have covered the pair of hunters approach and Barristan smiled eagerly at Selwyn. While hunting deer was easier with a bow they were close enough they could fell this stag with their spears. Barristan loomed low to the ground as he turned his spear around, its haft passing over his shoulder and its point just near his ear. He exhaled quietly to calm his aim and then drew up to throw. The stag's eyes caught him just as he drew back, stepped, and tumbled with a shout.

In his haste, Barristan had poorly placed his bad leg forwards and caught it on a root, and a shock of intense pain sprinted up his body. The Lord of Storms End doubled in pain, his spear clattering to the ground, and could only watch as the stag leaped between a pair of trees, seemingly now free to escape!
Just as a second spear sailed over Barristan's head and struck the stag in the neck. Selwyn's aim was true, and the magnificent beast toppled with a gurgled attempt at a scream. Head over hoof the stags great strength turned against it, flinging its body against a tree from its failed attempt at flight. It came to rest some distance from Barristan who gave a pained laugh as Selwyn rushed to his side.

"A fine throw Selwyn! That will be a fine meal I say! Here, set me down.", Selwyn had helped his father to hobble over to sit next to the kill. The Stag was still breathing raggedly, but blood was pooling around the creature quickly with the spear lodged deeply in its neck. "Go and get the men! We'll carry this out, maybe your brothers bagged a boar by now as well. Seems I won't get one myself for once! Though I'll happily take the lions share of your kill!"

Selwyn left to bring the rest of their hunting party to help retrieve the kill, leaving Barristan with the dying stag. Barristan watched the noble creature expire, crimson seeping into the grass around its kingly antlers and a ring of dark blood around its neck.
Big WIP

@Heat This is what we all hope for
Oh wow are we claiming stuff in the interest check now?

sweats in not having decidedon anything
Well color me surprised. I'll happily take another run at this. Who knows maybe this time I won't be arrayed against sloth
Aemon Velaryon




The horse whickered loudly as it crested the hill, light brown hair foaming with sweat after hours of riding. All the same, it broke from its gallop to a steady trot, its rider giving the animal some small time to rest. The rider looked weathered like his horse, travel clothes damp with morning dew and a thick cloak disordered on his back. The garment was mildly overlarge for the rider but they seemed to care little as it helped with the morning chill present in the Vale of Arryn. From his hip swung an arming sword, sheathed, and on the other side he wore a well-wrought hunting horn of ivory. Almost as an afterthought, a bow was strung over his back haphazardly where it swung loosely with its owner's motions. The hood the rider wore was damp with the rest of his clothing cloyingly clung to their hair and forehead. With an annoyed sigh, it was yanked off revealing ruffled silver-blonde hair like spun gold. His eyes flashed a deep violet in the morning sun and his breath wet the cloak before his mouth.

Aemon was peering over the tourney ground less than half a league away. He allowed himself a smile at how close they were now. It seemed mere days ago they would never reach the place, a mirage that existed only in the words of Brus Baratheon and his father. It was for this reason the young squire had ridden his horse so hard this morning. Hearing they were close had spurred rare foolishness in the normally cold boy and he had taken off at a gallop as soon as his duties were done for Brus. It was worth it to finally see the fluttering banners and tents being lifted. The grounds were nearly completed and Aemon could see the lists from where he was on the hill. Looking to the fluttering banners he tried to guess all the sigils he could.

The Old man of Banefort, the tree of Blackwood and stallion of Bracken. The Ninestars of Templeton and the Bells of Strongsong. Many houses great and small were already here... including the two that made his chest squeeze around his lungs and shorten his breath. The golden Kraken of House Greyjoy was hung menacingly over a clustered of black and gold tents. The last time Aemon could remember seeing them was the last day he saw Bloodstone before sailing to Storm's end, but that was not the strongest memory he had of that banner. The other was a more complex response as he peered over the lists and found the Silver Seahorse of House Velaryon, his kinsmen were here. Aemon nervously shifted on his mount as he thought of seeing Lord Aerion or his sons. The troubling thoughts were pushed from his mind as he turned his horse about and began the long trot back to Lord Lyonel's camp.

As he rode back and was quickly overtaken by the thick woods of the Vale he mused on how he had arrived before the rest. At first, he and Brus had been riding with the Royal caravan alongside Lord Lyonel but not long into the ride Lord Lyonel had changed things. In the middle of the night, he had awoken Brus and his squire and invited them to a ride but a quick lad like Aemon quickly realized what was really happening. The night prior a rider in the Green of House Tyrell had arrived to inform the Royal party that the Lady Paramount Alys Tyrell would be joining them. By the time Brus and Aemon had packed Lyonel and his small band of Outriders was departing. They had ridden hard to outpace the Party behind them. The lengths to which Lyonel would dodge the Master of Coin were endlessly amusing to Aemon, Lyonel was practically running from a woman. They had ridden day after day and now it would be perhaps a few days between their arrival and the arrival of the Royal party. Aemon's pace picked up as he heard rough laughter down the road and the familiar sound of Brus Baratheon after a good joke. He smiled as his horse thundered down the road, Brus would be more elated than his squire knowing just how little time there was before he had a lance in his hand.
Still very much WIP but will not be much longer

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