|Summary:||Ingryd does her best to try and prove herself, and the truth of her words, to her father.|
|Related Logs:||Ironborn Invasion Logs|
|The Green — Terrick's Roost|
|The Green is a large field of deep green grass, nearly flat, that runs along the base of the towers. The road into town runs along the far edge, hemming it in neatly to a confined area where beyond a line of trees serves as a subtle windbreak. This area is most often used for drilling or practice for the guards but also serves as home for festivals, tournements, and another other gathering that might require the space for a large number of the local residents. A well-trodden path winds around the side of the wall and moves towards the coastline.|
|Wednesday, January 11th, 289|
Ingryd might be a 'youngster', but she's Ironborn. She's raided since she could handle a sword competently. She's thieved long before that. When they said they needed someone small, quiet and fast she couldn't turn down her chance. Like father like daughter, hm? A chance to be a hero. So, now a few hours before the actual attack, she approaches the little group where she was to meet. She's still not in armor, chances are she doesn't really own any, but she's got her jaw set and eyes quietly ready. Until she sees him. That pauses her, a frown turning her previously emotionless, small features.
The small gethering is at the very edge of the green, on the townside, hidden in the shadows so as not to attract the attention of any watchers on the walls. Nares is stood facing the gate, pointing out a few features on a sketch map he's made and is sharing with the other four Ironmen around him. Those that have been around for a while might recognise his companions as one Tawney and three orkwoods, but none of them are wearing anything that marks them out. "It'll be two groups, one either side," he mutters, quiet words for quiet business, "quietest up first, marksman next to provide cover and then myself and your noisy fucker." That last bit is addressed to the Orkwoods, who seem to be forming one of said teams themselves. "We'll jsut wait for our last man before going into any further details, no point wasting our breathes having to repeat it."
The quietest first, eh? Well, Ingryd isn't even really -trying- to sneak up. She's just tiny, light on her feet, and svelte as the most dangerous sort of alley cat. So, though Nares might never have noticed her coming up to his side, she's woven her way into the group and through the crowd as he spoke and is now right next to him. "What's the mechanism on the gate like?" She asks, about half a foot from his ear, seemingly have come out of -nowhere-!
Nares glances sideways as the question is asked, if he's startled by the new arrival he makes a damn good show of not reacting to it. Truth be told, he heard her coming, although only just. "A nice and simple one, controlled from the lower level of the gatehouse," he starts, before filling in the exact details for all parties. "Needless to say, once we get to the mechanism, the tricky bit will not be opening it, but keeping the defenders away while we do." Turning to the Tawney, and the Orkwood carrying a crossbow he says, "Thats where you two lads come in, the first responders will be in leathers, nothing more, keep them off us and dissuade anyone who tries to come running from the keep." Hoping that's clear enough he turns back to Ingryd, "You're my climber I take it," he states flatly, debating if he should say anything more.
Ingryd gives him a cool little smile, though there is pride behind it, something shining in her eyes that most certainly might remind him of himself. "Aye. Faster and more quiet than anyone else from the isles. I'll get in there first." She assures him with a firm, curt nod. Maybe if she pulls this off, he'll accept her as his daughter? She can hope. Ingryd stands a bit straighter, still not even five feet tall, but trying to look as tough as any of these others around.
"Good," Nares replies simply, before turning back to the rest. "We're going either side of the gate so if one group gets spotted it'll draw attention away from the other, so if you're rumbled make a big fucking noise and keep their attention on you." Ah, the price of a fuckup, pretty much certain death. "The Prince has a mob kitting up, soon as they see us start to open the gate, they'll be sprinting over the grass to deal with the defenders and take the courtyard. Any questions?" It's a simple enough plan, so he hopes they all get it.
Ingryd looks around the others around her, mostly men, though a woman's face or two dots the crowd other than her own. She shakes her head quietly, not asking questions if no one else is — she doesn't want to look stupid! She waits in silence to see if anyone else will cut in, trying not to choke on the tension and her heart in her throat. If you fuck up, you're dead, indeed. She just draws in a slow breath and forces it out through slightly parted lips. Once things seem to be wrapping, she takes a step closer to him instead of away. "Lyra. She worked for the Tawnys. You docked ship after being blown down coast, spent a week together."
Since it looks like no one is going to ask anything else, it's now just a case of waiting for the nod from Maron. He starts to scan along the top of the walls, looking for any sign of movement or occupation of any kind. He's distracted though by the youngster as she pushes her point again. Turning to face her, but still keeping his voice low he mutters, sounding faintly annoyed, "Mind on the job at hand kid. If you can concentrate on this then I'll get someone else, someone who isn't going to get me killed because they're distracted." He's feeling the tension himself, and the last thing he needs is anything else to think about. "You think you've got something to say, wait until we're done because right now, there's a load of Riverlanders behind those walls waiting to sieze any any weakness you offer them."
Ingryd stares up at him hard, swinging around to his front, hands on her hips in stern consternation. He might be far taller, probably far stronger than her, but she's tough, stubborn and as bullheaded as he is. Far more so than her mother. And she has her mother's eyes. "I can concentrate plenty fine on the task at hand. It's what I was made for, thank you very much. But there's a fucking good chance that one or both of us are going to get slaughtered going in to take this place and if we're to die, then I sure as shit want to look you in the eye and say I hope you've grown up because you were a fucking coward taking off and leaving her knocked up because of that little prick of yours. And even if you WERE my father, and even if you ARE the hero of the Roost, you were just a little fucking runaway back then and…" She was going somewhere with this, but the near possibility of death gets a lot of off emotions out and the small woman really, simply, doesn't know how to deal with that, "And… well… fuck ups have consequences!" There.
Nares just laughs. Although he does manage to keep it quiet. His eyes mirror the amusement and he gets ahold of himself again before reaching out to pat the lass on the shoulder. "Tell you what, you come back and we'll have this converation again when you're old enough to work out just why that was so fucking amusing." Standing up straight again he settles his mail on his shoulders and turns back to the walls. There is work to be done.
Ingryd stares at him. Stares -hard-. Oh, if looks could kill. "…I am plenty old enough to have any conversation anyone might please. If I'm old enough to go over that wall and I'm old enough to fuck then I'm sure as shite old enough to look my father in the eye and say I exist before we both go off to our deaths." But with that growling statement, she stalks off, back to the other side of the crowd, doing her very best to get ready for this all.
Log text goes here!