|Page 013: History Lesson|
|Summary:||Stragen tries to bait information out of Rygar. Doesn't quite succeed.|
|Related Logs:||A Tale of Glory|
|Outside the tower, on the Stone Walk|
Unlike the other visiting noble families, the Naylands have been shown the singular honor of being accomodated within Tordane Tower. Yet each day they must come and go from those chambers, about the myriad business of a noble among nobles. Returning from just such an errand, Rygar Nayland walks purposefully up the Stone Walk toward the looming tower.
Perched the stones lining the Stone Walk, a certain blonde barbarian sits, tossing pebbles off the side as a way to pass the time. Strapped at his side is a Northerner's broadsword, apparently peace tied - likely at the advice of the guardsmen on duty. He looks impatient, occasionally glancing skyward to mark the passage of the sun. But when Rygar makes his appearance, the man quickly stands up to his full height, dropping the pebbles beside him and wiping his hands on his breeches. "Ser Rygar! Oh, damn it. Lord Nyland!" He calls out.
<OOC> Rygar looked at you.
Rygar turns a stern eye toward the rough looking sellsword, as the man calls toward him. As professional an eye as Stragen's knows the sight of a man weighing whether another is a danger or not. "I am," the straight backed knight replies, not stilling his strides, nor turning from his chosen path as the rough sellsword calls. "If you've business with me, come to it."
Stragen leaves his place of waiting and moves to step beside the man. Someone taller than he. "Rare do I get a chance to be forced to look up into someone's eyes, my lord. Sorry to bother you, this won't take but a moment." His hands remain away from his weapon, thumbs hooked in his swordbelt. "Also rare that I get a chance to remember faces from the Battle of the Trident." Ooh, that probably stings Rygar to bring up, but Stragen doesn't seem to mean any maliciousness by it. "Name's Stragen Stone, my lord. I believe we were on opposite sides of the battlefield that day." No question, yet; just greeting via bringing up the past, it seems.
Rygar doesn't still his steps until Stragen mentions the Trident. That also happens to be the point at which his eye goes back from the path ahead, to the man who calls after him. "Stragen Stone," he echoes evenly. Chill in manner, though no angrier at the talk of the Trident than he had looked before. "I stood for the King at the Trident. If that placed me opposite you, then so be it. What is your business, freeman?" he prompts a second time.
"Information, ser. You've likely a sharper mind than me, since I've dull Ironer blood in me," says Stragen, beginning the 'spin', deprecating himself in order to potentially win favor with a man who thinks highly of himself such as Rygar. It may work; it may not. "I'm just a common sword, aye, and you a lord with a keen sense of war. Do you recall Lord Geoffrey Tordane and his son, the Lord Geonis?"
"I do recall the gentlemen," Rygar answers crisply. "Do you inquire for yourself, or speak for a gentle of quality, master Stone?" While certainly condescending, such a blunt statement of the higher vclass as being 'gentles of quality' are all too common.
There's a slight narrowing of Stone's eyes as Rygar hits on a very important question. "Selfish reasons, my lord, purely," he says, the lie effortless for him. "I'm not one to be considered company amongst those of higher station. Just a barbarian. But I did hear that he might've been felled by Nyland blade." He slows slightly in his step so that he can judge Rygar's posture and body language, but just a hair of a pause.
Rygar's gait and body language are stiffly controlled, his stride purposeful, as if the time taken in travel between his destinations were being wasted. It is a typical gait for him, and apart from a short sniff at the statement of 'selfish reasons' for the queries, he does not spark at the rumor of the young mens' deaths. "It is well known, master Stone, that the Sers Tordane fought beneath the Mallister banner at the Rebel center. They fought and fell opposite the Royal line under Prince Rhaegar, my namesake."
"Ah, a history lesson. I'm most fortunate this day," Stone continues to lie, although it's probably clear to Rygar that he's not genuinely grateful. At least, not for a history lesson. "Ah. So you're saying Rhaegar himself bested father and son, no doubt in the most epic duel fought in all of the Seven Kingdoms. I won't bother you any more, good ser. Thank you for the education." Stragen stops following along with the Nayland nephew, but does not turn away. Still watching.
Rygar sniffs shortly once, "Grow better at listening, Master Stone," the severe knight advises. "Or find another teacher. For what you ask, any minstrel could suffice. Good day," he states, judging the sellsword's offered bait to be worth no further answer.
Stragen offers a stiff bow to the noble's back, and waits for him to be clear to the top of the steps before turning and heading back down. He begins whistling a tune, off-key, as he goes.