Darne winced as the skilled assassin scored a deep cut across his side, barely rolling enough to keep it from being a killing blow. He was not in the best shape to be up and fighting again. He could hear the Maester already in his head chewing him out but he used the anger and tried to channel it at the assassin.
Darne grunts with a bit of effort as he tussles with his foe "JUST SHOOT HIM"
Ser Weyland, seeing that his strength has yet to return, changes tactics and moves to disarm the assailant nearest him.
Fighting - 18
Lunging for his bow, Garran curses himself for having tried the axe in the first place. Aiming, he looses an arrow at the Assassin threatening Lord Darne.
16-2=14dmg
13-3injuries = 5dmg
9health -5= 4health
The assassin takes the arrow in a leg, and the pain is severe, but not enough to stop him just yet, but he is not as confident as he was before.
It takes both assassins to finally finish the guardsman inside the tent and they now turn their full attention to lord Darne which seems to be their target.
Darne was beginning to see that he was certainly in trouble at the moment. He is beginning to see easily that he needs more training in combat so it's best to fall back on what he is good at...being cunning.
He looked around the room quickly and spied the desk. He reached back and grabbed the bottle of ink on the table and attempted to fling the ink in his attackers eyes.
A whistle sound is heard, grim smiles on the assassins faces as they leave the tent, the remaining guards outside close their exits and they die fighting "The enemies of the Faith will die, we are everywhere!"
There is commotion outside and more sword clashing, it seems your House is not the only one to have suffered some minor problems this morning.
As the assassins run, Garran shouts, "Scum like you dishonor the Seven! They will condemn your souls to eternal torment!"
Garran loses an arrow and it hit the target straight through the head, some soldier puked at the sight of an eyeball, but made their job easier at killing the intruders that were left.
Darne looks around bewildered that they left as quickly as they come. He began to bark out orders. "Garran, gather the guards and secure the House. Maester, see to Lady Naelareon and Lord Deddings. Ser Weyland....I would rather you stick with me for now, forgive me but you don't seem to be fully up and ready." he said as he looked around trying to figure out what they were here for other then attempting to kill us.
After a quick look around the interior, he slips outside to see the wreckage outside.
Ser Weyland grimaces, "I am sorry Darne, had I been better I could have done more..."
He sheathes his sword and uses the sword in the sheathe as a crutch to assist himself in walking forward with Darne.
You find a dagger plunged to the hilt in Lord Domeric's chest, and while his death was coming, it was not a peaceful one now.
outside is not much of a wreckage, other than a few sick guardsmen from poisoning and a couple of dead ones from fighting some assassins with skill.
There is four dead bodies being piled together by the guards and a fifth and dying man being brought up to the lord (ooc]Darne[/ooc]
your mother might make it might not, lord Deddings has several cuts, but his dagger served him well to at least survive long enough for the guards to do something after the confusion, since the assassins where dressed like Naelareon guardsmen.
Ser Weyland turns to Darne sadly, "It seems that I should address you as Lord Naelaron from now on. I am sorry to see him go this way, he was a good man and deserved better, let's question our surviving assassin yes?"
Nodding, Garran strides out of the tent and shouts, "Alright, those of you off-duty, you are now on-duty. Let's take stock of our losses and strengthen the guard. Let's figure out how these craven filth infiltrated our camp."
Darne held in his anger and turmoil for now. There was far to much to be done and too little time to do it in to let his own sorrow and frustrations take the better of him. He nodded to Ser Weyland "We'll save that for once we are back home. For now, continue to call me as you have always. We must keep this hush hush as best we can and not let our enemies know for now." he said before he looked at the dying man.
He gritted his teeth and looked at the captive. He pulled out a dagger from one of the guards belts and fiddled with it in his hands. "I urge you to confess your sins now, for if you don't I will make sure you do not see the seven for some time...but you will be begging to the entire time. WHO SENT YOU" he said as grabbed the man by the hair and jerked his face up to see him.
The man spits "No sin in killing the sinful and arrogant men that think they are above the rest, you are the same as me to the seven and we of faith make sure you remember it!"
Darne took the dagger and cudgeled the man with the pommel of it. "PAGE" he yelled out as he looked at the mans wounds and attempted a bit of triage himself. He was gonna make sure that that this man didn't get to see the seven this day if he had to do it himself. He looked for a page. "Go to the Deddings and find me their Maester or a healer that is not up to his elbows in patients, tell him I want his digression as well as his talents as a healer. I'm sure that Lord Deddings will have some questions for him as well."
He told the guards to take him to his personal tent for now and to keep at least four guards on him at all times until a Maester shows up. He also told them that if he succumbs under their care, he'll have to find a suitable punishment for them if he even suspects they helped him along to meet the Shadow.
He took off from there and made his way back into the tents where the Maester should be working on his mother and Lord Deddings. "Lord Deddings, I am pleased to see that you made it through this rather well. Trust me, we will find out who was behind this. If it pleases you, I have a prisoner who is slowly dying. I've sent for your Maester to come to have a look at you and to save the prisoner so that we may ply the information from him one way...or another." he said as he made his way over to his mother and held her hand. He looked to his own Maester "How fare she?" he asked with concern in his voice.
"She will live, gave her some milk of the poppy to sooth her, while I do some quick procedure to stop her bleeding and close the wound" no smile in his face but he lowers his tone for Darne "Lord Darne, are you handing lord Deddings the assassin, because he might think you are and there is nothing wrong with it, but I wouldn't mind "working" on him first" no expression in the maesters face, but his eyes show a fury that has never been there before.
Darne gave him a small smirk "Showing him that I value him and his family just as my father did if not more. " he said quitely. He looked to Lord Deddings "I hope you don't mind a joint investigation into this, after all it was your daughter and my mother who was almost killed. Not to mention our own lives a bit in jeopardy."
"THose bastards are going to pay, if I was younger, they would fear the Bear of Deddings once again. In regards to my daughter, I hope you can keep her safe, but if you fear something more, I can protect my daughter while all this is over." as Maester Lucen finishes giving him some quick treatment and the page returns with lord Daddings on maester to keep up were he left of.
Darne was perhaps a bit surprised by Lord Deddings reaction but he quickly recovered "Very well Lord Deddings...if you will excuse us, we have a prisoner to see to. Maester Lucen, I'm sure the Dedding's Maester will take excellent care of Lady Naelareon." he said before turning about and heading to his personal tent.
On his way there, he stopped to check in on Ser Weyland. "When the soldier's return home from battle, please send someone my way and have them stand by in the main pavilion with you. I'll need to know how things went and also to let at the very least let Ser Marcus know the situation. I don't think I wish to alarm Matthias at the moment so that his rendezvous this evening." he said before joining the Maester in the prisoner's tent.
Weyland nods to Darne and heads to the main pavilion to await the return of the bulk of the Naelaron forces. Replacing his sword on his waist he does his best to look the epitome of health defying the poison coursing through his veins.
My consideration of subterfuge has been dashed, a pity but at least I can show some strength by virtue of being seen.
I have never understood why some feel there own belief in the Seven is any more proper than another. Matthias speaks to no one in particular.
My understanding was that each comes to there own understanding of the Seven, with no one perspective more or less than the next. Maybe I am naive in thinking that.
"I dont think I will never understand that and pretend I will. So far I am happy with the ways of Old... Make things simpler and let me do my things in efficient way without need to pay attention to whole religion" Marcus answers grimmly as he rides forward, others following behind him
"I do not know politics well or neither the habits or customs of most ways. I was born to serve and bring death, to assure the job being done rather than talk. Such things I leave to you Matthias or to my Lord or other Household members who are better with speaking than me." Marcus speaks as he looks in the distance, looking for something far away "Rather simple but it is better to keep it so than getting more complicated" grunting a bit as his arms was hurting and slowly getting sore as well turning to different colours
"I guess we should hurry a bit to reach our troops and then see if there are still some surprises left. Otherwise we can begin with heading back towards our tents"
Ser Conrad joins the conversation "I'm pious man, but this is not piety, this is merely men using religion as an excuse, and the smallfolk know no better" he pauses for a moment collecting his thoughts "In truth, it's the same as a trial by combat, the seven do not bless the winner and damn the loser, it's merely the man that can fight better, hence why no one challenges the small council or powerful lords, for their champions are kingsguard or very skilled men that will only gain you a good dead retainer and defeat, and at best a victory and a very powerful enemy, but the faith is different, smallfolk are their soldiers and there is enough of them to toss around, not to mention not every lord is a good lord and those smallfolk are the first to join, then bandits, knights of ill repute, and hedge knights for the coin"
Matthias nods a bit at both Marcus and Conrad.
To Marcus, Simple? Nay. Honest I say. An honesty that the Faith Militant never had or will.
To Conrad, The trial by combat is as much a farce as the faith of the Faith Militant, for exactly that reason.
The smallfolk? I always despised that name. Their hearts beat the same as any noble, the same as the King. Yet hecause a very few want for nothing, the smallfolk grasp at scraps, hoping to elevate themselves to a higher standing. Still, here I stand, one in a position for which the smallfolk strive, with a heart that pumps the same as theirs. Matthias shakes his head.
Bah! Useless prattle from one such as myself. I agree with Ser Marcus, let us make haste. Perhaps news of our victory will be just the pouktice Lord Domeric needs.
Ser Manrel interjects "Yes, we all have hearts, but in a good lords houise their smallfolk eat well and thrive Ser Matthias, while some will just take it all for themselves forgetting their soldiers, food and treasure comes from the them, but then again smallfolk revolt and rather die fighting and it costs the lord even more."
True, Ser Manrel. There would no doubt more Lords that would see to the smallfolk if not for the Game of Thrones. A Game played by a few, such that we all grab for scraps.
Morning passes and there is commotion on other camps, mainly just few Blackwoods, Coldbrooks, Charlton, Lychester, Uldryden, and Orell.
Lord Ulryden still sports some red stains of splatter patter on his boots, while he sits and waits for some ale and some meat, he has come early and awaits for you.
Darne took the oppurtunity to switch out his tunic having just recently being scored by a blade or two. He shook his head as he looked at himself in the mirror. He certainly didn't feel like a lord at the moment, so far it'd just felt like he had been playing a target. He took a bit of time to pull back his hair before he moved to the pavilion where breakfast was being prepared. Upon seeing that a guest had already arrived, he slipped into the larder and pulled out a jug of ail and some bread. He poured some in Lord Ulryden's flagon and sat the beard between them as he took a seat across from him for the time being. When other's would begin to show, he would make his way to his seat at the head of the table.
He bowed his head politely "It seems like you have had an active morning." he said as he tore a hunk of the bread and poured himself some ale.
After mobilizing the guards and doing his best to keep the wounded and dead out of sight, Garran will join Darne in the breakfast tent, still armed and with guards posted outside.
"Yes quite lovely in fact, there i nothing better than rightfully cutting a greenlanders head in the morning" sarcastic tone as he is quite furious, but collected "I hate this fanatics, as if it's not hard enough for an ironborn to have to play by greenlander rules, because we live in the riverlands and no lord has been able to kick us out, because they never have cause"
Darne gave a small nod "It is good to see then that you came out unharmed, we as well got to enjoy their company. Though I assure you they did not enjoy ours, but we will get to the bottom of this I am sure. When we do would you enjoy a chance to rightfully cut more heads off?" he asked curiously.
"That is a done deal lord Darne, but please join me at the table, your man can sit too! Enemies of those bastards are always welcome at my table"
Darne laughed a but despite the serious tone of the conversation. "We would be honored of course to attend at some time so long as my my Castalin can join. I am eager to hear the results of the fight of the seven this morning. I have nodoubt there was some treachery on that field besides what they tried at the pavilions. No doubt they assumed us weak and incompatent without our front men. I am glad that we all showed them wrong. I am curious to see who else was plagued this day by those spineless cowards. " he said before taking a long draw from his cup.
Weyland will stand and smile and nod at all who pass by the Pavillion awaiting the return of the forces sent out to combat the seven.
I cannot believe my Liege Lord has been slain, by an assassin of all things. Better that he died on the field of battle this morning, the way a man of his ilk should have gone. Whoever these enemies are, they shall taste my steel before all is said and done...
"I heard few Houses, mostly those worshiping the old gods, us, and some old enemies of the Faith militant which is you" pointing at Darne "How is your father's health? Any improvement from the poison? The Lychesters are furious from losing one of their House at the dinner, lord Tully must be hiding in some corner and thinking what to do with all these problems under his watch"
Darne pursed his lips a bit when he brought up his father. He starting going through things in his head like a mile a minute. "While the festival is important of course, we convinced father to travel home secretly the other night. We felt it was best for his health and for his life for that matter that he be brought to a familiar setting and surrounding as well as all the wait staff and such that only our proper castle can provide. It does not do a sick man well to stay in a drafty tent after all." he said as he smiled.