Stark realities |
Summary: | Lord Ser Anders Flint checks in with his troops, finally, and something of a line in the sand is drawn. After some conversation, agreements are reached. |
Date: | 6 January 2012 |
Related Logs: | Need you ask? |
Players: |
Command Tent - Stonebridge |
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Big cabin tent with war-stuff |
6 January 289 |
Rygar stands at the largely vacant command tent, now that Sers Stevron Frey has withdraw to take his ease, and Lord Rickart is overseeing the garrisoning of new troops in Stonebridge. Organization of the army under march and into divisions is thus being attended by Rygar on his uncle's behalf.
**
After the meeting of the Captain's to devise their next steps, Aleister had retreated to the Charlton camp and for the most part, has played the part of the recluse as he tended to the Knights of Charlton. Now, content that everything has been sorted, he's emerging from the Charlton camp alongside a young boy who no doubt plays the part of squire. There's a soft murmuring and then the boy is dismissed, allowing Aleister to finally cast a look around the main portion of the grounds.
**
With the Flint contingent arrived and set up, as per the site marshal, as well as settled, the time comes once again for the Young Lord of Flints Finger to search out Lord Rygar to make his presence official, as if it wasn't already? He crosses the field, the small distance between his own encampment to the now almost empty command tent, expression set. He's not in armour, but there is no question that he's here for a fight— to fight the Ironborn, that is. He doesn't notice Aleister yet, so fixed upon the form and figure of the man who stands.
"My lord," is given as he approaches, and at the arrival, offers something of an inclination of his head— courtesy and deference for the lord of the land upon which he is settled. "The tent.. is empty." He looks momentarily puzzled.
**
Rygar turns his intent blue eye upon Anders as the other marches up. Giving a short bow from the waist, as befits one noble greeting another, he returns, "Lord Flint." As for the tent being empty, he sniffs once, and returns, "Hardly, Ser. You and your men have chosen a most opportune moment in which to arrive, as the army prepares to march. I would inquire whom among your number is to command your foot, whom is to command your bows, and whom is to stand first among your horsemen, Ser?" A short look aside assures the stern Nayland that an aide is prepared to take down the names.
**
It takes Aleister a moment to look around and his gaze passes over Anders and Rygar, continuing on before it's stops and is promptly drawn back to the two men. There's a slight narrowing of his eyes as if trying to discern something and after a moment, he's beginning to give his head a slight shake, a smirk now playing upon his lips. Moving forward, he's making his way from the Charlton camp over towards that command tent and it's only as he begins to draw near that he's offering a bow towards Rygar, along with, "My Lord." Then, to Anders, he's offers quite plainly, "You lost, Northerner?"
**
Merely passing through, not for the first time, the forms of the young Lady Ceinlys and her sour-faced chaperones cross the trampled grass and worn dirt paths left by heavier tread than theirs. The elder woman, hastening after her charge, is laden with wrapped packages and rolled bundles, presumably the fruits of an idle hour or two spent in Stonebridge. Warfare, warfare, warfare, tactics, politics, warfare, sniping.. there's little for a noblewoman to do to pass the time here, really. Purchasing goods she doesn't really require appears to have been the answer. Regardless, the weary, trudging stride of the handmaid is a stark contrast to the brisk, swinging gait of the brunette she follows, as well as to the steady stride of the frowning knight trailing a short distance behind them both.
Absently toying with a length of braided red rope, pulling it between one hand and the other with an entire lack of purpose, Ceinlys returns to the general body of the campsite quietly enough. Had anyone been noting the myriad of expressions seen upon those austere features these past few days, they might assume today to be one of her fairer moods. With dark curls left loose over her shoulders and back, she carries herself in the vague direction of her House's tents and pavilions… only to slow as she spies some familiar faces not too far away. Hmm, Rygar Nayland. Best not to intrude. Anyway, what could a -woman- have to say of battle that would carry any weight? He won't even drink her wine. And the young Lord Ser Anders. Charming company but he looks rather involved in whatever exchange is taking place. Watching the stranger in Charlton colors bend in respect toward the Nayland, Ceinlys quirks a brow, the beginnings of a smile tugging at her lips.
No, she doesn't approach directly. But her steps carry her certainly close enough to be noticed. If they can tear themselves away from warfare, warfare, warfare…
**
"So I've heard," Anders begins. "I've also been told by one that a column of 100 Ironborn march towards Stonebridge while the consideration is made to march out to the Roost?" He doesn't sound like he believes a word of it, at least in terms of timing. "To hear of it, he expected the dogs to be on your doorstop within the next day or so." Still, it's no matter. More to the point is the question. "I would" And there.. the sound of the impudent, insolent and turning around, catches sight of a friend that he's only seen a few times in the last five years. He grins at the words, "You all seem to not be able to settle anything yourselves, so we're summoned.." and here, he puts upon a theatric sigh, ".. again." He's obviously kidding, and returning his attention to Rygar, he inclines his head again. "Pardon, my lord.."
**
Rygar looks slowly aside as one of the Charltons wanders up with an insult on his lips. Nostrils flare, and the lean knight's eye hardens, before Anders' reaction makes it plain the two are acquainted. There is a short sharp exhale as the stern Nayland realizes that people are joking and enjoying themselves in front of him, yet again. "Ser Aleister," he greets the Charlton levelly. Then it is back to Anders. "To the west, Outriders report four hundred Ironborn besieging Four Eagles tower. A further five hundred are reducing the countryside, in bands ranging from a score to a century. One such band are the hundred Stonehouses advancing on Stonebridge." Drawing a fresh breath, be begins tactics, tactics, tactics. "Any heavy horse you have brought will ride with the Vanguard, under Ser Ryman Frey. What is the count of your Armsmen and levies, Ser?"
**
That smirk remains tight upon Aleister's lips as he dips a bow of his head towards Anders, followed by a quick, "Glad to see you could catch up." He's falling silent, his attention returning to Rygar so as to give another slight incline of his head. It's after that, that his attention begins to shift between the two and when Rygar explains the situation and asks for the number of men, the Charlton begins to look about, eyes catching sight of the approaching Ceinlys, something that draws a lift of his brow. There's nothing offered, though, for he's looking back to Anders so as to await the answer.
**
The young woman nearby, moving at a far more sedate pace now, wraps her short length of rope about one hand and folds her arms across her midsection, long sleeves draping down against her dusty skirts. Keen eyes of pale, icy blue linger upon the man Rygar addresses, blatantly taking stock of him as she catches the name but having the grace to slowly incline her head in acknowledgement should the Charlton glance her way. "Brigid." Her throaty murmur is directed toward the female chaperone as she catches up at last, though her attention never shifts from the knights. "..take my things onward to the pavilion. Taggett will stay with me." Her tone, quiet as it is, brooks no argument. Besides, the woman looks fit to collapse, wheezing under the strain of her burden. Precariously attempting a shambling curtsey, the servant does as she is bid, leaving Ceinlys to slow, inevitably, to a halt. With a last flit of her gaze toward Rygar, she then turns to speak quietly with the grizzled knight still lingering with here, beckoning him closer with a subtle upnod.
**
Once his attention is returned to Rygar, he begins to shake his head slowly. Anders takes a deep breath, and wanders into the water, though there is nothing of a youth unaccustomed to plans and tactics. While he doesn't have the hardness, he has the ease of a man who knows and understands what is before him. "I have a wholly-outfitted company, my lord." He pauses before continuing. My men know their chain of command, and I can offer their names to your roster." With that said, Anders continues, "But I think you misunderstand my orders. I am here to lend aid, not to add to the Lord Frey's command. They are my men to command, and I cannot and will not have them in a position where they become.. concerned and confused." Read: Used as expendable. That said, however, "My serjeants will speak with yours, and will work well, hand in glove, however.. as long as we have a proper understanding of what is we are asked to do for the cause.
"I have ten heavy cavalry, 20 men-at-arms, and 150 foot-soldiers."
Anders senses another within immediate area, but at the moment, the Lady Erenford isn't acknowledged— not yet, anyway.
**
Rygar has the stiff courtesy to pause his words upon noting Ceinlys, if only long enough to offer a short, sharp bow to "Lady Erenford," before rising again to his full height and hearing out Anders' answer. The words provoke a narrowing of his chilly regard. His words, when spoken, are cool and very deliberate. "I shall do the knight the courtesy of presuming yours is a different manner of command in the North, and that you did not intend to offer insult. So I shall ask you plainly: is it, or is it not your intention, Ser, to defend this realm alongside the army that has been here gathered, at the direction of the noble Lords whom the Crown has recognized as holding authority?"
**
While there was a nod to Ceinlys, Aleister's attention had drifted back to Anders, his lips curving into a slightly larger smirk that broke into a grin at Rygar's reply. Brown eyes flit to the older Knight even as he begins to offer, "Ser Rygar, I am sure that my Northerner friend.." There's a quick look to Anders before it's returned to Rygar, "..will offer whatever aid that he can to see to the safety of this realm and it's lands. It would be remiss to think otherwise."
**
You have to admire the brass parts on someone who will refuse to ride under a Frey, when standing in a campsite -full- of the family's bannerhouses. Resting one elbow upon the opposite arm, which remains wrapped about her narrow waist, Ceinlys lightly brushes a knuckle back and forth across her lower lip as she listens, partly to the response given by her companion, and partly to the curt exchange nearby. The evidently habitual motion disguises the threat of a slight grin. Probably.
With a distracted nod to her knight, the young lady then offers a slow and more deliberate one in kind toward Rygar, no longer bothering to hide her interest in the discussion, now that she has been noted. But she still knows better than to intrude upon it. Especially when she can't help but be amused.
**
Anders stands straight, and he doesn't flinch from the Lord before him. "My Lord," he repeats. "I am here to defend this realm alongside the army here gathered." And there, he stops, making his point. "My noble Lords have answered a call, one from the Good King, and are on their way to Seagard even as we speak, as well as my bretheren in the other two Houses of Flint. I am here as aid, rather than being called farther south, and this I give freely." He cants his head, his words low and deliberate. "I am currently the only representative of my Liege Lord Stark and of my Lord Father of Flint's Finger. Is this the way the offer of aid is taken in the South, my Lord? If it is, then we have much to learn from each other, Riverlands and the North." He pauses, then offers, "Over ale. In the freed Roost."
Anders looks to Aleister and inclines his head, agreeing with the man as well as acknowledging the words. "From a man, a knight who knows my character, my lord.." But Anders stops short of requiring Aleister to vouchsafe him.
**
"Quite. Ser," Rygar voices to Anders' last, the two words sharp-edged. He had given a curt nod acknowledging Aleister's comments, though his eyes fix quickly again on the Flint. "Then on behald of my Lord Frey and Nayland, your contribution to this campaign is accepted. Your foot shall be deployed on the right flank of the line, with the officer of rank holding designation as Captain of the division of the Right. While on the march, your men shall have the Rearguard. Your heavy horse are invited to join the Vanguard, under the leadership of Ser Ryman Frey as the army takes to march, to be re-deployed should a field battle be accepted by the enemy."
**
A low chuckle escapes Aleister's lips and when it fades, the smirk has returned as eyes shift back over in the direction of Anders, "Smile and nod your head, Northerner. Looks as if we're going to be riding together again." A hand lifts to clasp Anders upon the shoulder and when it falls away, he's looking back over towards Rygar, "I'm sure our Lord Frey will not only accept, but welcome, the aid of the Flints, Ser Rygar." A step back is taken, a bow of his head given to each man, "Ser Rygar. Ser Flint. I will leave you two to sort through the details of positioning." When he straightens, he's looking over towards Ceinlys, who now stands not all that far away and offers, "Lady Erenford," by way of greeting.
**
Dipping one shoulder and hand forward, the other subtly back, Ceinlys lowers her gaze, briefly demure, as she offers a shallow curtsey in response to Aleister, graceful and unhurried. It's a fractional recognition that he should receive this, when others are granted polite nods. Particularly when a warm smile accompanies her returning look toward the Charlton. "Lord Charlton…" Surprisingly low in timbre for a young woman, though not unpleasantly so, her voice is measured and even as she straightens back to her full height, clasping her hands loosely before herself. Beyond her slender shoulder, her gruff companion offers a stiff bow also.
"I was pleased to see you representing your fine House in person, Ser. Especially in the company of Lord Andrey. No doubt it will go some way to heartening the masses. Those who wear the armor, or polish it." What exactly is -she- doing here? Certainly neither one of those things.
**
Anders nods his head slowly, accepting the positions and the locations. Taking a deep breath, he lets it out slowly before the next words come, "I would like to see the plans drawn for this battle, my lord. That way I may have a picture of intentions before our day in the field." So he can see where his cavalry will be best suited, as opposed to what a Frey may think.. "Remember that Lord Mallister," identified to him later as Ser Aeric, "will be in the water and has offered his ship as part of the attack."
Aleister's comments actually makes the Young Lord bark a laugh. "Yes, it does at that. And I look forward to it. We'll have to catch up before the dawn so I know how ill-prepared you truly are and will have to protect you." That done, he grins at his friend. "I will catch you anon." Looking past his friend for a moment, finally he offers a rather belated, "My Lady Erenford.." along with the apologetic expression that more cannot be said, as there is business afoot.
Anders twists back around to address Rygar, his brows rising, "If I may, Lord Nayland?"
**
"As you say, Ser," Rygar nods once to Aleister. "The Lords Frey and Nayland will be most grateful for the added strength," he notes with a short dip of his chin in an effort at gratitude. Request to review the plans is met with a more direct nod, and turn to face the map of the Cape as it is spread over the camp table. "the initial march will begin with an action of the cavalry, under Ser Ryman. The men of houses Drumm, Goodbrother, and Stonehouse are scattered throughout the cape, with the alrgest concentrations here, here, and here-" he points out touching the map in places where heraldic pins stand. "We mean to strike swiftly, cutting off as many of their bands as we may and taking full advnatage of the enemy's lack of horsemen, while the infantry advance on the Roost. Our aim is to reduce their number in advance of a set-piece battle outside the Roost. With effective cavalry operations, we may expect an advantage in numbers by the time of that engagement, Ser." rygar is nothing if not methoidcal in his explanation.
**
In typical Aleister fashion, a hand lifts to give a slight over-the-shoulder wave to Anders, the only reply offered in response to catching up before the dawn and having to protect him, though the Ceinlys will clearly see the smirk that remains upon his lips. That curtsey that comes to be offered forces him to give a bow, one that comes with the hint of a chuckle and when he's straightened, his hands come to clasp before him, right over left. "I thank you for your words, my Lady, but I shall leave it to my Cousin to hearten the masses." There's the hint of a grin before he continues, "I trust you found your journey here .. tolerable?"
**
Catching the eventual greeting from Ser Anders, the young lady casts him an understanding smile past Aleister's arm; a silent promise of 'we'll talk later' in that simple expression, before her glacial eyes return to the dark-haired Charlton before her. Tilting her face upward a little, at a disadvantage in stature - height, that is - Ceinlys sweeps aside an errant ebon curl from her brow, squinting ever so slightly in the bright daylight. She's dressed simply, by her own standards, though even her casual attire deliberately sets her apart from the more questionable women within the boundaries of the sprawling encampment. Well, some girls make their living by being easy to acquire. Noblewomen make theirs by the entire opposite. A travelling dress of faded rose hue offsets her coloring, lending a touch of warmth to cheekbones that seem naturally just a little unhealthy in pallor. Just that fraction -too- pale, the sort that makes the vivid color of her eyes all the more startling and out of place with the backdrop of raven hair to contend with. All the Haigh siblings are similar, of course. Ceinlys just gets the added fun of a reputation to rival that of her brothers…
"I would not call it pleasant, certainly.. tolerable is as good a word as any." The subtle wrinkle of her nose conveys enough of her distaste regarding the hurried journey here, on the back of her brother's destrier. "And your own, Ser? Has much of your household accompanied you in your travels?" A carefully veiled enquiry. Sort of.
**
Anders offers a wave to his friend before stepping into the tent further to look at the map now shown to him. He looks at it closely, listening to the explanation and nodding as it is laid out before him. This is the shortened version of it, surely, as there will undoubtedly be archers introduced into the fray, and numbers given of each section that fights. In all, he's content with the plan is it looks, and can think of a thousand different contingencies, should something not work. A shift of force from one section, a different angle of approach on another, reserve troops if the cavalry does better than expected, but fall back, protected areas.. everything seems to be there and in place… and he approves.
Anders straightens once again, once the explanation and the finer points are brought out in questioning, and smiles at the Lord, something of a contentment on his face. Not in the fact there will be war, but in the knowledge that everything seems considered. "My thanks, Lord Nayland. When all is said, I think I like my heavy cavalry in a position where they can move and quickly to defend a line that may be threatened to break rather than rush. To relieve the pressure." It's not a defensive posture he's looking for, certainly not. "They're brutes, as you well know."
**
Thankfully, Aleister needn't worry about regular dress, for donning armor makes ones choice rather limiting in nature. It's only his hair which gets any measure of difference and today, he's pulling it back behind his head so that it can be tied in place with a piece of leather. Ceinlys reply draws the grin a touch larger as he offers a nod of understanding as to her travels. "My own was well enough, I suppose. I travelled in good company." Meaning, the other Charlton Knights, no doubt. "A couple from my household have made the journey, my lady, though they have only just arrived." A cryptic reply, to say the least.
**
"Then your brutes will be well placed among the Vanguard on the march, Ser. And the Reserve for the field battle, should our foemen mass against us," Rygar summs up with a curt nod to anders, gracious enough not to point out that this is the same deployment he had initially offered. "Should your Captain of Foot have queries, you may direct him to seek me out, Ser."
**
Anders inclines his head, offering due courtesy. "Then if you will excuse me my lord, I have my men I need to brief, and their names will be sent to you via a runner before long." With that, he does indeed wait before turning around and exiting the command tent. It's back to the Flint compound and a brief meeting with his trusted officers.. and serjeants.
**
Tilting her head a little, seeming amused, if anything, by Aleister's equally careful response, Ceinlys moves smoothly onward, arms settling back to their habitual fold across her torso. "I find it does good to have one's family close by, in times such as these. Whether brother in arms or true kin." As the stern knight standing nearby gently clears his throat, she cuts him an unhurried glance over her shoulder.. then chooses to ignore the subtle prompt. For now. "Should you or your household have need of anything, we are not exactly far removed, for once." She gestures toward the Haigh banners with a fractional nod. "And perhaps my brother would enjoy some discussion with you, soon. I wish I had a more graceful invitation to offer than a tent." With a throaty chuckle, she glances again to Taggett, the subtle clinking of his armor as he shifts her weight drawing her attention with a flicker of irritation, which she masks swiftly. "..on that note, I had best return. Preparations and such."
**
"I find myself needing to agree with you, my Lady. One should never forget the weight that family plays upon ones thoughts." As that is said, Aleister is flitting his gaze towards the stern knight that accompanies Ceinlys, regarding the man for a moment before looking back to the Lady, "I will keep that in mind and I am sure that your brother and I will cross paths before we depart." A pause is taken and then a slight bow of his head, "Your invitation is most graceful and welcomed in the manner it is given. After all, one can not apologize for surroundings they can not control." A faint hint of a smirk returns, another look to the knight, this time for a slight nod before he's offering Ceinlys an actual bow. "Until next time, Lady Erenford. Please, pass along my regards to your brother."