| Lady Blackmane |
| Summary: | Eyrian's first night in Terrick's Roost is eventful. Stragen names her a Lady. |
| Date: | 21/07/2011 |
| Related Logs: | none |
| Players: |
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| Town Square - Terrick's Roost |
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| The town square of Terrick's Roost could be considered well-kept by the standards of the surrounding area. The stone streets run right up to the building fronts around the edge and the locals have kept the spaces between free of grass and weeds that might otherwise upstart between them. There are several homes and nicer shops located here which incline their business or residents towards those not of the peasantry. The Sept of the town can also be seen from here with its ornate stone front rising above the surrounding structures just down the cobblestone road. |
| Thu July 21, 288 |
Early evening still claims to be hot and muggy during the season, the avenue of Terrick's Roost wandered by a few while many are home or in doors. A few smoke and talk together as the horse and rider make there way through the town center, slowly progressing towards what looks to be a tavern of some sort. THe slight figure atop is given away by the lyre strapped across her back, the hood of her cloak meant to keep curiousity from the lone female. Lone female being the key word.
Stopping about twenty feet back from the tavern, the horse whinnys and bucks it's black head as it's rider slides from the saddle, hitting the ground and keeping hold of the reins. She clicks her tongue gently and pats the whithers of the travel worn animal, leading it towards the tavern to get a better look. A head lifts and within the depths dark eyes consider all angles, judging by sound alone the worth of entering the esablishment.
Dark figures cut across her path and the sound of chuckling voices can be heard. "Well well, what've 'ere?" Comes the one nearest her and the woman lifts her head, "Traveler 'eh…all by yourself and with such a strong animal, should let us take it for ya…"
She dips her head, "Go piss somewhere, out of my way…" There are few ohhhs and the man grins, reaching out to snag the side of the bridle, the horse jerking it's head but the man keeps a firm hold. "I am thinkin' you shouldn't be havin' this animal…foul mouths and all." He pulls the horse aside, trying to hand it off as she grips heavily on the reins.
Coming into town from the opposite direction is a taller man, looking like some bastard combination the Seven Kingdoms. Long hair is bound loosely and coming free of its leather knot, with a few strands plastered to his face by a mixture of sweat and dust from the road. A pack shouldered and gripped by its strap by his left hand, and his right hand resting on the pommel of his broadsword, the tall pidgin-bred man comes to a slow halt, attracted by the sounds and the scuffle.
Deciding to act, he offers, "M'lords, I wouldn't be doing that," he says, voice a bit gravelly and strained, no doubt parched from the road. "I mean, if you're in the habit of harassing a noble lady, and trying to take her purebred - " A quick glance. " - mare, that's probably worth more than each of your hides put together." He offers an exaggerated toothy grin, framed by his long, beaded beard, might make one wonder what he's up to. Certainly, he's some kind of con artist. "Oh, please, don't let me keep you. You might want to hurry, I'm sure her bodyguards will be along any minute now." And with that, he unshoulders his pack, sets it down, and leans against a post.
The defender draws the attention of the men for a moment, the one with his hold on the horse letting out a snort of a laugh. "Noble woman…if she is than I am a crannogman.." There are snickering chuckles from his companions before he gives a tug on the hores again. "Not likely to be so.." He eyes the man though, sword and the like taken into account as Eyrian gives but a passing moment to the man. Noble woman. She straightens and gives a tug on the reins. "Let go or you will find his words to be quite true. Dare you chance it?" She asks them, her chin lifting but the hood offering some protection from their gazes.
One of them leans closer to her, eying her instrument. "If you were a noblewoman, you would not be out at night.." He says and reaches out a hand to try to tug at her hood to expose her. Sidestepping, the woman reaches up a hand to knock away his. But he persists, a few still watching the tall man who had spoken up, murmuring about him. Forced to let the horse go, the hood is drawn back some and she frowns. "Touch me again and you won't be feeling anything past what is between you legs ever again…" A flash of steal beneath the cloak stirs.
"Of course she's noble. You've never heard of the stories of nobles sneaking out, dressed like common folk, in order to evade attention?" Stragen explains, of course spinning this story out of complete nothingness. "And really, what sort of woman travels alone? Anyone with good sense knows you'll just get accosted by ne'er-do-wells." He holds out his hands, palms forward. "Not that I'm accusing. A man has to make a living."
The bearded, road-weary man notices the movement of steel underneath the young woman's cloak. Rubbing his nose with a sniff, Stragen pushes off from the pole and starts working his way over to the men. "Tell you what, gentlemen. Give me a cut on the horse, and I'll watch your backs. Even delay her bodyguards when they show up. Oh, can't be but a minute, now." Eyes quickly glance from man to man, and back to the woman, as if quickly sizing up their abilities in preparation for a fight. "What do you say? I'm short on coin and I need to find a place to stay tonight."
<FS3> Stragen rolls Fast Talk: Good Success.
<FS3> Eyrian rolls Blades: Good Success.
The blade at her side, which she doesn't like to use is at the ready and Eyrian is caused to tense further when she hears the voice of her once defender fall into conspiracy with the other. Her horse is handed off by the first as Stragen speaks and he grins. "Ahhh now that's more like it.. lets move her over here, behind the tavern…" He directs and the taller man who had tugged at her hood reaches for her again and snags for her arm. Alarm and worry rises up her spine. She hisses beneath her teeth an as he gets close enough, her arm jerks forward and she slashes at his arm with a bite of her blade. It is a rather good strike and the man recoils, blood dripping to the ground to look black in the night air.
"Why you little whore.." He growls. He holds his arm and then the others move forward, eyeing her as she backs up a step, holding the blade out at ready for them. "Call me what you like, I will cut you again!" She warns. Despite that warning, they move, the first two and she tries to keep them back.
<FS3> Stragen rolls Blades: Good Success.
"M'lady!" Stragen calls out, his passive grin turning properly shit-eating as he tugs his broadsword free of its scabbard. And, perhaps in the most dramatic, over-the-top, bardic voice imaginable, Stragen yells, "In the name of Lady…" Pause. Eyes the horse. "Lady Blackmane, I command you to surrender!" And with a mighty pull, the broadsword gets pulled across the back and left arm of one of her assailants, probably sending the man crashing to the ground.
As the realization sets in, Stragen shrugs and offers the remaining men a smile. "Sorry, m'lords. I told you her bodyguards would show up sooner or later." Turning his sword in his hand to a normal grip, he offers: "This is where you run."
<FS3> Eyrian rolls Reaction: Good Success.
The my lady yelled causes Eyrian to blink and she shoots the man a look as the sword is drawn up. As it slams into her first assailant before she can cut him, she blinks and sidesteps herself, finding the awaiting hand of the other. Spinning about, she yanks her arm free and brings her knee up hard to the center of his body and below the belt. Breathing heavily, she stumbles back a few feet, blade still held in her hand as the others look to the intimidating sword wielder. None of them are warriors themselves, the woman had just been easy pickings. The others begin to back up, holding palms out. "Okay okay, no trouble."
The one remains curled up on the ground, holding the precious space between his legs. She narrows her gaze and spits towards him as one of his friends moves to help him up, groaning as he tries to stand. They begin to back off and Eyrian waits, watching her horse as it sidesteps and trots about to get away from the confrontation.
Stragen holds his sword at the ready, watching the men leave. "Damn, none of them died," he mutters under his breath, but loud enough for Eyrian to hear. Producing a greasy rag and giving his sword a quick wipe before putting it away, he eyes his "lady" rather critically. "So, normally the price of coming to the aid of a damsel in distress is a penny or two at the very least. But, since none of these thugs met their untimely end - and I must say, they must make them thick in the trunk around here, or something, as I swung awful hard - I now go homeless and hungry this night. Unless, of course, the town guard arrest me." Offering a slight bow, with no flourish or circumstance, Stragen turns to retrieve his pack back where he left it.
<FS3> Eyrian rolls Pickpocketing: Good Success.
Staring at him, she leans down to wipe her blade against the edge of her pants. Skirts? Not when you ride a horse. Slipping it back into place, Eyrian rises and then moves to get her horse. "Had I pennies I would offer, alas." SHe proclaims wistfully, though her hand shifts with something else in them. "But…the men had something..I think we can get a drink and food off their troubles." With horse in hand, she reveals the pouch in her hand, tossing it to catch it and tilt her head at him. "Damsel…I sing of those, never been called one." She draws closer to him, the black mare moving with her, head bobbing before she stops with her mount. "Might want to get off the streets…just in case they get too mouthy to the wrong sorts." She advises.
Stragen takes up his satchel, but pauses when she reveals that she managed to obtain something for her troubles, after all. A slow grin creeps across his face. "You're good," he offers, with a low chuckle. "If you're buying, I won't say no. Call us even at that point, I think." He gives two quick glances up and down the avenue, and then starts walking in one direction towards one of the inns. "Call me Fjall." A name she might recognize as eastern, from the Mountains of the Moon. A word that the mountain savages might use. "And who might you be? I very well can't call you Lady Blackmane again." He snorts, chuckling, shaking his head and wiping his hand back over his hair. "Lady Blackmane… what was I thinking?"
Laughing within her throat, Eyrian lifts a brow and then nods, drawing out a few coin to count it absently. "Fjall…" A curious gaze is offered to him and she muses over it. "Interesting..you must tell me where you have come from." She insists and then gives the pouch a jingle, "You do have to survive after all and since I am not Lady Blackmane, I do suppose I have to suffice with being Eyrian of the North…" She grins a bit and then eyes the tavern. "You were thinking swiftly, which I must say, I rather enjoyed. Perhaps I can make something of this tale.." She says, tracing a finger to her lips before she ties off her horse near the entrance and motions in. "Food and drink await, Fjall."
