Blood of Dragons

The mobilization at the Red Keep was a quiet one, with most of the volunteers leaving one by one to join a rendezvous point some time in the early afternoon. The ranks of the bandit hunting party swelled with righteous prejudice, and the force set out into the woods much as it did a week prior: creeping along to a destination marked out by the Kingswood Company’s Scouts.

It has been several hours already, with the sun threatening to set at any moment. Whispers begin flowing back from the front of the lines that the party will soon reach its destination…and for each man to be prepared. The Warden of the Kingswood, Ser Farin Prester, rides near the head of the group…though he is surrounded by his retainers and officers, in the event they should be ambushed. Even he advances only silently, his face lengthening in tandem with the shadows around them as the lines advance.

Ammon Massey has been in a foul mood all day—he has only threatened his squire with a good clouting once or twice—and now he rides in silence, a man apart from the rest of the company. Metaphorically speaking, of course. For Ammon rides near the head of the column, and he alone of the assembled knights owes his allegiance to the Crackclaw Company.

Massey is clad in leather and mail, muffled and darkened with soot to cut the gleam. A worn and battered half-helm sits atop his head; some little sweat beads upon his brow and rolls down his cheeks despite the chill. Scowling often, his eyes scan the trees encroaching upon either side of the path. One gloved finger of Ammon’s maimed hand taps a soft rhythm against his sword hilt.

A large chestnut horse walks slowly into formation. Smaller than some of the other destriers around but still rather large for a courser, the horse is lightly armoured in leather barding and carries a number of satchels upon a dark brown saddle. Sat in it is Ser Dermett Corbray, a look of concentration upon his face without a suggestion of his usual humour.

Atop a chainmail hauberk that ends at his elbows and his thighs he wears a white tabard. Upon it is the coat of arms of House Corbray: a raven in flight carrying a large, crimson heart. This is combined with dark grey leather riding-breeches and thick leather boots. A dark, mottled and well-worn cloak hangs from his shoulders and his head is protected by a mail coif and a thick, leather, conical helmet. Leather vambraces protect his forearms and his hands are protected with thick leather gloves.

Slung across his shoulder is a large, wooden shield with the Corbray coat of arms painted upon it. It is suspiciously untarnished. Attacked to his sword belt is a simple, castle-forge steel sword inside a crimson leather scabbard; with a matching crimson leather grip, the hilt and pommel are a complete opposite to the ornate swords worn by other knights and his own Lord father’s Lady Forlorn, simple and practical in their design.
For once, Ser Dermett Corbray is silent. Observing. Listening. Learning.

Ser Urston Coldwater rides alongside Ser Farin Prester, doubly as bound by duty as any other. A sworn retainer to Ser Farin’s house, as well as his Deputy in the Kingswood. He is dressed the part today, his long hair is tied back into a firm ponytail, slung back over his well-worn leather armour. The thin chain that marks him as a Deputy Warden of the Kingswood hangs limply over the leathers. A light brown cloak is draped tightly around him, to allow for concealment and shelter from the elements should the weather prove dire. The hilt of Rogan’s blade pokes out from the scabbard hung at Urston’s hip. A taunt. A great big boast, and a reminder to all that these people have been bested before by the very men who lead them now.

Against the orders of his healer Luthor Rivers numbers among the men come to destroy the bandits. The Riverlands bastard is dressed in mail and thick boiled leather and once again carries a long kite shield to ward off arrows both before and after the battle is joined. The big shield comes with it a cost though, and every time it bump’s Luthor’s thigh in the ride the bastard grits his teeth.

Now that he’s reached the assembly point Luthor takes care to keep the shield from his thigh and chews a wad of willow bark to keep away the pain. As he chews he shakes his blade loose in its scabbard and waits with a scowl on his face.

Eon arrives at the meeting place, armored again in mail with a light breastplate and backplate. His helm was without a visor to allow better vision, and his horse was in fine order. The Valeman’s sword rested in its scabbard, ready to be used once again. Eon’s gear was not polished, lest it give away their position, though it was well maintained. He looks about at the assembled knights, hoping that their numbers remain the same.

Ser Astos Corbray was one of the knights assisting the Kingswood Company in the bandit hunt a week ago. Following the request for volunteers for a second time today he rides somewhere near his nephew, the heir of Heart’s Home, wearing a half-helm and a surcoat with the arms of his House above a chainmail, which offers an advantage in agility much needed when fighting villains of this caliber. The Corbray knight’s grey-blue eyes flicker with anticipation as he casts an occasional glance at the passing bushes and trees, as if he was searching for any lurking bandits.

Ser Florian rides near Ser Astos Corbray, clad in light mail to keep from tiring too quickly. He holds the rains tightly with his left hand as he right is holds the rains lightly, at the ready to use his weapon. His horse snorts as the formation moves forward.

Theonald is wearing what seems to be a mail, on his shield two crossed keys over a purple and white background, the colours of Oldcastle. He is mounted on his new white rouncey, bought yesterday. His sword rests on his belt, but it is ready for a bath of blood. The man stands above all with his natural height. He tries to approach Ser Farin, the man who invited him.

Elmer rides too, the tall Crakehall wearing plate armor this time, grey battered war plate, not the gilded suit he had as a wedding gift, nor the gorgeous black one he won at Lord Baratheon’s tourney. His eyes scan the gathering as he stands atop his gray gelding. His unruly hair flies in the wind before he sets his helmet on the head and checks if his sword is still loose in its scabbard.

Jan Marbrand sits atop a light brown destrier, wearing plain but functional chain mail and a half-helm on his head. His right hand rests tensely on the sword on his right side. As a newly-minted officer, he trails a few men behind Farin and Urston, but he opts not to bother them at this point, his mind fixed only on the task at hand. He looks about the wood nervously, eyes narrowed, before patting his horse on the neck in an effort to calm the animal.

Riding a black warhorse, beside his squire, Tarell Darklyn moves to the middle of the group. Wearing black plate armor and helmet, adorned with red and golden details and his engraved sword, the knight and heir to Duskendale is totally silent. Some gentle nods are given to the surrounding nobles, especially to Jan, but not a word makes its way out.

Riding on his grey courser, Ser Cleyton Waxley is lightly armored like most of the other Knights. He’s clad in a full suit of mail with a breastplate and backplate though with a visored helm instead of the half-helm favored by many of his fellows. The shield bearing his family’s arms is still slightly scarred from the previous attack on the bandits. He rides quietly, scanning the trees for any sign of an ambush.

Ryckon rides on his black destrier directly behind Farin and Urston, ever dutiful as a squire should be, but with a different kind of duty from Urston’s fealty. He wears the same as the others present, mail, a helm, and his house’s arms. While he is using both hands to ride, it seems as though he is prepared to grab his mace at the slightest sign of trouble.

As Ser Theonald approaches the Warden, the latter holds a hand up…but not so much as to ward the northman away, but as to call a minor halt. There is movement in the underbrush ahead of them…bowstrings of the nearby officers are drawn, but relax when a scout of the Kingswood’s is the one to emerge into view. He exchanges a brief word with the Warden, who then turns and gives orders to his officers, which flow back through the ranks: there is a collection of huts in a small clearing ahead, believed to be the bandit camp. The bandits are inside, drinking and cavorting. The knights are to make a simple rush inside, cause a general panic with their charge, and then capture as many bandits as possible.

Urston quickly sets to work, passing orders along from the Warden to his own subordinates, his whispered orders as close to an angry bark as a whisper can ever be. Then the Coldwater turns, silently and slowly draws Rogan’s blade from his scabbard, and readies himself for the charge.

Ammon, near to the Warden and his advisors, reins his horse in at Farin’s command. And then, as the orders are given, Ammon spreads out to take his position amongst the trees and other men. With a nod and quick, quiet word, he sends his squire to the back of the lines and dons his shield: a simple kite shield painted black and bearing no sigil. And then: *skift*! Ammon slides his sword free of its scabbard.

“Uncle Astos,” Ser Dermett says solemnly, greeting his uncle. “Ride well.” He tightens his hand into a fist and nods at his uncle.

Loosening his sword from his scabbard, Ser Dermett returns his steely grey eyes to observing the area. He glances down at the coat of arms on his tabard- the one large raven, flanked by two smaller brothers on each side- and bows his head, as if in prayer. As Ser Florian halts besides his uncle, Ser Dermett offers the Piper knight a nod in greeting.

Ser Dermett walks his horse forward closer to Ser Farin and the other men leading the assault. He draws his sword, grabs his shield and waits…

Eon listens as the orders are passed down. He nods as he hears that taking prisoners is given priority over simply cutting them down, like the last raid. Drawing the sword from its scabbard slowly as to not make noise, Eon grips the reins in his shield hand, ready to ride forward.

Jan scans the knights for familiar faces, and he gives Tarell and Cleyton both a brisk nod to wish good luck. His eyes linger for a brief moment on Ammon before he snaps to attention when Farin halts the march. He listens intently to Urston’s orders and does his own part to relay the plan, speaking in hurried and hushed whispers to the men in his vicinity. Finally, he unsheathes his own sword and unleashes a deep sigh, slowly creeping towards the camp.

Theonald nods to the Warden and greets the known faces that approach him. “Ser Dermett,” he says, “it’s good to met another known face around here.” He draws his sword, the blade reflecting the starts that glitter above them, he raises his shield, as if expecting someone to jump from the trees.

As the order comes, Cleyton readies his shield. Turning to Jan he gives a nod. “Be safe coz.” He says quietly before snapping down his visor and drawing his sword.

Luthor meets the orders he’s given with a snort. “I know my business, Gerig,” he says to the Kingswood man who passes them. “You just keep your deputy alive.” The bastard spits out the wad of willow bark in his mouth into the bushes and draws his blade with a cruel smile. “Prisoners,” he scoffs.

“You as well, Ser Dermett.” Astos replies with the hint of a smile to his nephew, a flicker of worry in his eyes. Upon the Warden’s hand sign he brings his horse to a halt and draws his old friend, the sword, with a hissing sound from its sheath.

Ryckon looks uneasy at the amount of talking that the knights are doing, as little as that amount is, when they should be silently preparing for a surprise attack. He is silent himself, only nodding at the orders and then waiting for the signal alertly, so he can’t be called a hypocrite.

A black horse stops next to Ser Dermett and the knight riding upon it returns a silent nod to the Knight. Florian pats his armor at the chest and straightens the mail head covering. His sword sit at his left, at the ready to draw the wine of life. He kisses the pink mermaid that adorns the top of his gauntlet and stares ahead bravely.

Andred rides atop his old courser. The reliable beast walks at a slow and steady pace with the rest of the party. The bastard and his knight, Ser Jarret Corbray, ride in the middle of the column. Ser Jarret lectures Andred on something or other, normal knightly stuff said to a growing squire, but the teenaged boy does not listen, normal teenaged petulance. He rides along in full plate from shoulder to toe and a half helm upon his head.

When the order to charge is given, Andred tugs his long kite shield from his back and his hammer from his side. The bastard falcon readies himself for a charge.

When the order to charge is given, it’s not a quiet whisper. It is the Warden’s own voice, practiced at bellowing military commands, if nothing else. It cracks across the silence, followed by the thunder of hooves pounding against the dirt as the lines begin the charge in - and nearly silent, among the sudden din, are the hisses of arrows being launched from the treetops as the buildings explode with ex soliders, the deserters of the Dornish wars turned bandit, their very elites already prepared for the charge…their front line wielding long pikes intended to break a charge, if the arrows sinking into the front line of horses doesn’t do the job. The chaos has begun…and this time, the knights were not quite as prepared for it as the last.

A short fellow, but not at all stocky, leans up against a tree. Allyn is covered with scars, the bit of his chest that can be seen is laced with them. This either indicates that he is a poor fighter or one who likes to dive in and say ‘to hells with the Stranger.’ He has deep blue eyes, a rancid smile, and a scar that runs from just under his ear all the way down to what can be seen of his chest. His clothes are grungy, just like his short cropped hair that Allyn scratches at, likely riddled with fleas. He picks at his bloodstained mace as he sharpens its spikes humming a little tune to himself as he goes along. When the call goes out that there is a charge of noblemen, Allyn leans off of the tree with an acidic smile. “That’s more like it! Let’s send them home to they’s wives less a member, eh lads?!” He stands at the ready, mace bouncing in his hand for the first man to strike.

Two men alike only in their threadbare clothes and weather stained leathers stand side by side in the pike lines. They have swords instead of spears however, the larger one, Harlan carries a heavy nasty piece of steel, while the smaller one, as pale and lithe as an Other, Hafdan, holds a sharp pointed thrusting sword built to punch through mail. The both bandits roar at their men. “Hold your ground! Kill their horses and then cut their fucking throats!”

Elmer isn’t a man to shout trivialities when battle is upon him, but draws his sword and spurs his horse on. Leading his Lannister men he charges, and who need shouts when the large knight with his boar shield is upon him? His sword swings down in a cavalryman’s experinced slash towards Sutty’s face.

The wiry, oily young man, dressed in roughspun, threadbare clothes, named Samnell, sits in wait for the line of nobles. He is thin, not well fed, with a three day growth on his scarred face. His beady eyes look for a likely target as the horse charge progresses and his own superior gives the order to unleash an attack. His sword is at the ready, and he moves forward to catch the well-armoured man, possibly a lord or some notable figure, who knows, who cares, unawares. With a swing of his longsword, Samnell lunges a blow towards Dermett.

Samnell attacks Dermett with his sword…
...and has his blow intercepted by Dermett’s shield.

A man so large should not be so good at hiding. Nevertheless, Voss lurches out of his spot in the shadows by the line of bandits with pikes without a trace of being seen beforehand. He seems to expand from the darkness, his body almost unnaturally unfurling into his full, tall height as his keg-like gut bounces, traces of wine and the greasy residue of some meaty meal or his last whore- or both- streaked across his ample belly. Goss’s eyes shine with glee as he lifts his sword. “Come on, you whoresons! See, my boy, they sent only halfwits and ladies against us. Just look at all the pretty armor! Would you like some new armor?” Behind him, the slim, smaller figure of a young man slides cat-like out into the open. Sutty is barely old enough to be called a man, but his grip on his sword is sure. He would bear a striking resemblance to Voss- were it not for a long scar trailing down his cheek to the corner of his mouth and tearing into his lip, and a vacant, cold expression in his eyes. He stays silent, staring at the knights before him without emotion. Both men sprint toward their targets- Elmer and Astos- blades swinging at head level.

By the path, a man who could have passed for gentry by sheer cleanliness compared to many of the others of his ilk drops soundlessly from the trees. A deserter, perhaps? Aeryl flips a lock of long blond hair out of his eyes before he swings his blade eagerly toward Andred. “Fuckin’ hell, you lot look somethin’ desperate for cunny. Your women all singin’ for septons instead a openin’ those sweet lips fo’ cock?”

Sutty attacks Elmer with his sword…
...and strikes him with a powerful blow!
Voss attacks Astos with his spear…
...and strikes him with a shattering blow!
Elmer attacks Sutty with his sword…
...and misses by a narrow margin!
Aeryl attacks Andred with his sword…
...and strikes him with a powerful blow!

The order is given, Massey’s spurs strike his new destrier’s flanks, leaving a trickle of blood—and the horse surges! Ammon leans low, close to his horse’s neck. He is not a natural rider, that much is abundantly clear. But he serves—until his inexpert charge is broken by arrow and pike. The horse, skitters to the side, arrows stuck in darkened barding, and Ammon finds himself near to a scarred bandit.
A bandit he hasn’t seen yet, as he tries to calm his mount.

Elmer raises his shield but even so , he is rocked back by the powerful blow of the bandit and his sword slashes in the air as his attack is dodged. He pulls his gelding a step back to give him a better range and again he swings, the eyes behind his visor cool so far, again aiming a vicious blow at Sutty’s head.

Luthor rakes the flanks of his horse with his spurs and charges towards the village his shield thumping with each arrow it takes. Seeing the pike lines form he takes a sharp left trying to flank the bandits. “On me!” he shouts to those around him as he draws his blade and surges towards the enemy lines.

With adrenaline pumping through his body, Ser Dermett spurs his horse into a gallop. “Let’s hack those buggers from skull to their FUCKING GROIN!” he roars, his sword held high as his coarser charges into the fray. Targeting a rat-faced bandit, Ser Dermett bears down upon the man with determination in his eyes. The man’s sword collides heavily with Dermett’s shield but the Corbray heir shrugs it off. Rounding on the bandit, Ser Dermett swings his sword down hard on Samnell, aiming for the man’s exposed right shoulder…

Above the din of the sprung trap, Rogan’s laughter can be heard by one of the rooftops…before he leaps down and onto his horse’s back, and riding forward to find…Ser Urston, picked out of a crowd near the Warden. “YOU,” he bellows, still laughing. “I’ll be having the sword back, thank /you/!” he shouts, stabbing at Urston with his brand new spear.

Dermett attacks Samnell with his sword…
...and strikes him with a swift blow!

Sutty dodges the first attack nimbly, and silently, swinging again himself towards Elmer’s shoulder even as Elmer’s next blow comes.

Rogan attacks Urston with his spear…
...and strikes him with a swift blow!

Eon snarls as the order to charge is given. He applies his spurs to the steed, carrying him closer to the bandit camp when the bandits soon emerge ready for the assault. Trying to avoid the spearmen, Eon makes his way towards a swordsman, hoping to cut down the bandit.

Sutty attacks Elmer with his sword…
...and has his blow intercepted by Elmer’s shield.

Theonald seems to be as confortable as it is possible on his light armor. He raises his eyes to a tall man whose gems seems to shine as the stars that are reflected on the Northman sword. His horse rides fast as he tries to get strike the man on his chest with his longsword.

Urston does a double take as he sees Rogan charging towards him, then cackles a loud laugh as a blow from Rogan’s speak clatters limply against him. “Oh, you’ll be having my sword alright!” he yells, before lunging forward with an evil grin.

Urston attacks Rogan with his sword…
...and strikes him with a powerful blow!
Theonald attacks Hafdan with his sword…
...and has his blow intercepted by Hafdan’s shield.

Jan spurs his horse on at the signal, but soon brings the beast to a halt before it goes crashing into the pikes. “They’re ready for us! Be on guard!” he shouts. He wheels the horse and spurs it alongside but out of reach from the protruding pikes, looking for a break, any break, in the line.

Elmer attacks Sutty with his sword…
...and strikes him with a shattering blow!

Ser Florian pulls on the rains at the sight of the spikes lifted and the horse bucked into the air, nearly throwing the knight to the ground with his sword at hand. He managed to regain control his stallion and scan the field. “Damn the commander for not anticipating the bandits would be at the ready! May the Others take his soul!” he exclaimed under his breath. He maneuvered his horse around the fight that already has begun around him and lunched forward towards Grange with a war cry.

Allyn spots Ammon coming through the clearing, a bit of a spark comes to his eyes. “Ah, I’ll go after this one..” He nods to a bandit standing next to him. “Me thinks your horse will get the best of you. You shouldn’t ride it so hard as I’m assumin you haven’t had a woman in a long while! Mangy lookin bastard.” Ally races up with his mace and hefts it at Ammon’s leg.

Allyn attacks Ammon with his mass weapon…
...and sees his blow go wild!

From within the camp, the bandits are much better prepared this time than the last. Among them, Thom is a wiry fellow showing the signs of numerous battles. An ear is missing, a finger on his left hand, and there are no doubt numerous scars beneath his boiled leather armor. When the initial charge hits he grins at Jan Marbrand, quickly donning a half-helm as he leads with his sword in an attack at the man’s knee when he gets close enough to swing up at the knight on horseback, shield in his left hand.

Jarrod steps around a portion of the trap that’s set up for the good knights, brandishing a sword of his own along with similar boiled leather armor. He’s old enough to have been through the same wars as the rest, though he appears to be mostly untouched from past battles. It’s Cleyton Waxley he’s after, leading with a shout as the sword arcs up toward the man’s sword arm. He also carries a shield.

Astos urges his dark brown courser onwards to leap over the undergrowth right into the camp of the bandits. After a quick glance around the area his eyes focus on Voss, only to find the huge man leaping at him in an unexpected attack. Astos manages to parry the shattering blow with his shield, due to his good reflexes. The blow however sends waves of pain through his arm, and the Corbray knight hardly manages to supress a groan. A sudden anger rushes through his veins, and he tries to channel it in a counter-attack, swinging his sword at Voss’s side.

Ryckon charges along with everyone else, but, being near the front of the group with the Warden, he can see the bandits’ pikes. “Shit!” He stops his horse and rides down the line while the charge is broken, looking for a vulnerable point where he can ride through.

Thom attacks Jan with his sword…
...and strikes him with a powerful blow!
Astos attacks Voss with his sword…
...and strikes him with a swift blow!
Jarrod attacks Cleyton with his sword…
...and has his blow intercepted by Cleyton’s shield.

As the arrows fly and the first wave of bandits rush forward from their positons, one espeically cruel bandit runs out to meet the Warden’s party. Spotting Ryckon, he practially squeals with delight. “Oh look, the Warden’s brought us some PIG! C’mere, piggy! Let’s have us some bacon tonight!” he cries, springing forth at Ryckon.
Staying safe within the confines of the spears, Harlan waits for the knights to come to him. “That one!” he shouts to his men as Eon charges towards them. The bandits raise their pikes and try to stab at the Valeknight’s horse while Harlan himself rushes him with his sword held high, taking a swing at the knight’s body.

Alyxander attacks Ryckon with his mass weapon…
...with no result as the two warriors battle!
Harlan attacks Eon with his sword…
...and strikes him with a powerful blow!

Elmer manages to block the blow this time and he grunts in satisfaction as his sword rings the bandit’s helmet. “None so fierce!” he challenges and pushes his horse forward to press his advantage and to stab with his sword at the dismounted man.

Taking a vicious blow, the filthy pinch-faced man screams as his sweat-stained tunic makes contact with the deep cut of his left shoulder. Fortunately he fights with his right arm, and is able to continue the battle, for now. He gnashes his teeth into a cruel smile, and swings wildly up towards the Corbray lordling, all the while screaming, “We’ll send you shits back to the fuckin’ capital in coffiiiiins!!”

Samnell attacks Dermett with his sword…
...and has his blow intercepted by Dermett’s shield.

Andred charges into the clearing only to be struck from the right side. A powerful blow strikes him on the right pauldron. The blow slides off the plate, possibly saving Andred’s arm. The pain felt in his arm is not saved. A large bruise is already forming. Such pain makes the vale squire’s reaction slowed. Eventually, the bastard rotates bottom towards the origin of that strike. The bastard looks down at the golden haired bastard and he rasps out. “You shall regret that.” With that said, his hammer is raised and then falls down upon the bandit Aeryl.

Andred attacks Aeryl with his mass weapon…
...with no result as the two warriors battle!

Hafdan strayed too far from the safety of the spears but when Theonald swings at him he is able to take the blow on his shield. He grunts, then counters stabbing at exposed mail with the point of his blade.

Sutty reels from the blow, a crisp line appearing across his left cheek and nose, crossing the scar he already bears.. He looks stunned, but not in too much pain. He bring his blade toward the Elmer’s thigh this time as the horse nears him again.

Hafdan attacks Theonald with his sword…
...and strikes him with a swift blow!
Sutty attacks Elmer with his sword…
...and strikes him with a shattering blow!
Elmer is rocked back in the saddle by Sutty’s blow, but manages to keep his seat!

The bandit Grange comes hurting out of the woods at the knights in along with his unit, laughing as he spots one fresh for the picking, and shouting something to effect before launching himself at Florian.

Grange attacks Florian with his sword…
...and strikes him with a shattering blow!
Florian is driven from the saddle!

Ammon catches the man’s words, catches his movements, and attempts to spur his horse out of the way—but too late! Allyn’s mace misses the knight, but strikes the horse a glancing blow. Massey’s mount rears and it is all Ammon can do to keep his seat….
But this is a trained warhorse, and it knows it’s job well. And so Allyn finds two heavy horse’s hooves kicking out toward him as Ammon attempts to gain control.

Ammon attacks Allyn with his sword…
...and has his blow intercepted by Allyn’s shield.

Eon feels enemy’s weapon strike him on his shield arm, the pain more than enough to make the Valeman yell. In response, forgetting the order to take captives, he swings his sword at the bandit’s neck and shoulders.

Voss recoils from Astos’s strike, groaning himself, though he calls out to Sutty. “You see, my boy, this one caught me unawares! Never be caught unawares, my boy!” And the large man swings his blade toward Astos’s knee.

Eon attacks Harlan with his sword…
...and strikes him with a shattering blow!
Voss attacks Astos with his spear…
...with no result as the two warriors battle!

Jan sees a flash of steel from the corner of his eye as a wiry bandit attacks from the line of pikes. But he cannot react in time, and the sword slashes into his knee, drawing blood. Jan cries out in pain but grits his teeth, wheeling around his horse to face the attacker. Despite his injury, he maneuvers the steed well, and manages to swing down at the bandit’s sword arm.

Jan attacks Thom with his sword…
...with no result as the two warriors battle!
In the wild chaos of the melee, Jan and Thom are carried apart from one another.

Cleyton puts spurs to his horse at the signal, charging into the camp. Seeing the pikemen he shouts “Pikes! They’re ready for us.” As he’s shouting the bandit Jarrod comes swinging at him. He blocks the blow with his shield lashes out in return, a swing towards the bandit’s chest.

Cleyton attacks Jarrod with his sword…
...with no result as the two warriors battle!
In the wild chaos of the melee, Cleyton and Jarrod are carried apart from one another.

Aeryl nimbly dodges a severe blow from the hammer with a skillful parry. “Big weapon for a child, in’it?” He smirks as he swings for Andred’s thigh.

Again, the rat-faced Samnell’s sword blow hits hard into the Corbray heir’s shield, sending wooden splinters tumbling onto the ground. Ser Dermett winces but rounds his horse once more, spurring the coarser into a purposeful trot. “Time to feed the FUCKING RAVENS!” he roars, swinging a sword blow directly at the bandit’s chest…

Aeryl attacks Andred with his sword…
...with no result as the two warriors battle!
Dermett attacks Samnell with his sword…
...and strikes him with a hard blow!

Theonald gasps as the blow reaches him. “You’re a better fighter than I thought, dead man.” He grins. He raises his sword, attacking the man before he receives another blow.

Theonald attacks Hafdan with his sword…
...and strikes him with a hard blow!

Elmer seems to have found himself a hard foe as the blow is hard and rough, making the big knight rock in the saddle but he’s a veteran of battles and he grunts in anger. Yet again he’s not one for foolish taunts, only making his gending dance thrugh the throng of battle so that he can land a better blow and again he hits at Sutty, wanting to finish this.

The grungy bandit takes a few steps back as the horse kicks out, making him miss his mark.“An ornery one, eh? Well then, mayhaps you -do- ride it too hard.” Allyn grins, “I’m aim’n to get you off that horse lad!” Allyn whips the mace round his head and aims a strike to Ammons upper thigh.

Allyn attacks Ammon with his mass weapon…
...and has his blow intercepted by Ammon’s shield.
Elmer attacks Sutty with his sword…
...and strikes him with a swift blow!

Harlan is staggered by Eon’s counterstrike and ducks back in among the pikes threatening the knight’s horse to swing a vicious upswing at the knight’s leg.

Harlan attacks Eon with his sword…
...and strikes him with a hard blow!
Eon is driven from the saddle!

“Unawares you say? What do think about this one then?” Astos shouts at Voss, parrying his attack with ease. There is a hard steely look to his grey-blue eyes, as he attacks again, aiming for the man’s shoulder.

Astos attacks Voss with his sword…
...and strikes him with a hard blow!

But Ammon brings his shield around and the plain black oak has a dent in it for a sigil. He wastes no time, does Ammon Massey, bringing his sword around in an overhead arc toward Allyn’s shoulder.

Hafdan curses as he’s struck but slips like a shadow through the pikes to stab at Theonald’s other side.

Ammon attacks Allyn with his sword…
...and strikes him with a powerful blow!
Hafdan attacks Theonald with his sword…
...and merely strikes a glancing blow!

“WARDEN,” the bandit knows as Gilbet shouts, when he finds Ser Luthor. “Do you remember ME, boss? Told me I was a fucking craven for leaving in Dorne, but look who’s on the hard end of THIS shit!” he cries out, launching himself viciously at the Rivers bastard.

Trying to leap away, Sutty is merely clipped in the arm by Elmer’s sword. Grunting and spinning, he swings toward Elmer’s back as the man passes him.

Sutty attacks Elmer with his sword…
...and strikes him with a shattering blow!
Elmer is driven from the saddle!

Gilbert attacks Luthor with his mass weapon…
...and merely strikes a glancing blow!

Samnell tries to dodge the downward swing of Dermett’s blow, but fails horribly, taking a deep cut along the side of his torso. He has the good sense not to scream so loudly this time, but he begins to feel light-headed, the two deep cuts beginning to take their toll. With a guttural cry, the thin, rat-like man drives forwards and attempts to cut the Corbray man out of his saddle.

Samnell attacks Dermett with his sword…
...and has his blow intercepted by Dermett’s shield.

The blow from Grange sends the Knight clean off his horse. He hits the packed dirt as his air is knocked out of him. He rolls over, picking up his sword and gets to his feet as fast as a man knowing his life is about to be taken can. He sees spots Grange making his way to finish the job. Florian grabs his horse’s rains and mounts again, giving the rains a sharp pull towards Grange with his sword at hand and the strength from his man’s war cries.

Theonald grins to the blow he received, “Wildlings give me a better opponent!” he shouts, another sword blow quickly follows.

Theonald attacks Hafdan with his sword…
...and strikes him with a swift blow!

Rogan dances around, again already at a loss to the Valeknight’s skill. His horse bascks away a pace, before charging Urston anew.

Thom’s initial attack draws blood when he gets through Jan’s defenses, but when the mounted knight counters and the two are knocked back with no advantage gained nor lost, the bandit laughs a cruel laugh at the man. “Ser knight on his horse! Are you too craven to fight me on foot? Or shall I help you down?” He surges in with a second attack toward the same side, Jan’s knee.

Jarrod and Cleyton both clash with no result, the Waxley knight’s counter pushing them apart. Jarrod eyes the man with a calculating gaze, quite silent as he adjusts his own half-helm after it’d been jarred. Still wordlessly, he presses closer again and rushes around to swing his sword up under Cleyton’s shield, seeking to draw blood that way.

Thom attacks Jan with his sword…
...and strikes him with a powerful blow!

The blow slams into Voss, and the pain must get to him a little, for some of his jovial demeanor fades. “I think I’ll have your armor and then I’ll piss on your corpse.” His eyes narrow as he swings hard for the center of Astos’s chestplate.

A boy of perhaps sixteen comes into the clearing. He is pulling at the strings of his breeches, and staring at them intently. Then, the sound of swords clanging together makes Grobert look upwards, “Sweet fucking shit!” Grobert’s adams apple bobs nervously, and he looks as if he may need to piss again.

Rogan attacks Urston with his spear…
...and merely strikes a glancing blow!
Jarrod attacks Cleyton with his sword…
...and strikes him with a hard blow!

The bandit’s sword finds its way towards Eon’s exposed leg. The large man’s strength is evident in the power felt from the strike. Before Eon could regain his balance he finds himself falling towards the ground. Fortunately, he is not wearing full plate, the light breastplate and mail does not hinder him from being able to quickly find his feet again. The rush of energy flowing through him allows him to find his horse and regain his position in the saddle.

Florian attacks Alyxander with his sword…
...with no result as the two warriors battle!
Voss attacks Astos with his spear…
...and strikes him with a hard blow!
Astos is driven from the saddle!

Luthor turns as the mass weapon is swung in his direction letting it slide of steel and leather. He grunts though when it finds where the arrow struck his chest in the previous battle. Then the knight is on the offensive swinging his big shield at the bandit from one side, and then thrusting his blade into the opening that creates on the other.

Luthor attacks Gilbert with his sword…
...and strikes him with a shattering blow!
Florian attacks Grange with his sword…
...with no result as the two warriors battle!

A loud growl as Ammon’s blade come crushing down on Allyn’s shoulder. “I’m going to make your mother weep like the day I took her and made her scream my name, you poxy bastard.” Allyn grunts out as he takes another hefty swing.

Andred’s horse gets spooked by the chaos of the battle. The reliable old beast rears up in fright. The bastard holds desperately pats for his reins. He just barely gets a hold of them preventing him from falling to the ground. It also prevents Aeryl from striking anything, but air. Andred moves his horse in semi-circle. He moves towards the bandit’s non-dominant hand. His hammer goes down attempting to strike the outlaw’s left shoulder with the flat of his hammer.

Allyn attacks Ammon with his mass weapon…
...with no result as the two warriors battle!
Andred attacks Aeryl with his mass weapon…
...and has his blow intercepted by Aeryl’s shield.

Elmer falls to the ground, sign that even the best warriors can have an off day. Luckily the Lannister men surrounding him pull him away and one manages to even pull his horse back. As he’s pulled back on his feet, he watcher Luthor fare better than himself and he raises a fist in the air to salute. Only then does he remount, watching for his erstwhile foe.

Grange laughs, after the knight he downed so easily gets back up and has at him again.

“Back for more?” he grins, and reigns back to strike at Flroian again.

Grange attacks Florian with his sword…
...and merely strikes a glancing blow!

More splinters rain down upon the earth and now Ser Dermett Corbray is laughing. Raising his sword high, he spits down a mocking jape, asking the rat-faced bandit: “Is that all you’ve got you little shit?” The sword blow drops hard and purposefully towards the man’s skull…

“Aha, backing away already? Normally you at least bark before you flee, dog!” Urston snarls, raising his sword to deflect Rogan’s spear as the bandit launches another attack. The spear merely glances off of Urston’s armour once again, and the Valeknight pays it no mind “You are indebted to me, cur. I had to spare your life, when I wanted your blood. I mean to take what is mine today.” and with that and an almost lazy flick of the wrist, he begins to slash at the bandit.

Urston attacks Rogan with his sword…
...and strikes him with a swift blow!
Dermett attacks Samnell with his sword…
...and strikes him with a hard blow!
Samnell is driven from the saddle!

Another swift parry and Aeryl is yet again clear of Andred’s massive hammer. “Better luck swingin’ wi’ your cock boy- though I suppose you ha’ent done much wi’ that either?”

But his opponent’s swing is slow, and Ammon sees it coming. It is an easy parry as mace meets blade—and Ammon’s foot flies from his stirrup, straight toward Allyn’s nose as the knight laughs. The bloodlust is upon him now!

Charging his warhorse, Tarell’s sight is caught by some incoming bandit. His sword and his armor are heavy, and the sweat is invading his covered face, but still he rides with all his strenght. The boy seems nervous and Athos, the Darklyn knight’s squire is being left behind in the charge.

Ammon attacks Allyn with his sword…
...with no result as the two warriors battle!
Aeryl attacks Andred with his sword…
...and strikes him with a shattering blow!

Grange’s glancing blow causes no harm to Florian. He pulls on his rains once again to try to circle the man and lunches another attack.

Florian attacks Grange with his sword…
...and strikes him with a shattering blow!

Gilbert is not quite so cocky after the former Warden returns the blow to him with narry a sweat broken. Gasping, and holding in his blood with his offhand, he turns about, circling behind Luthor’s stted to strike out with his axe.

Tarell attacks Grobert with his sword…
...and misses by a narrow margin!

Harlan smiles as he brings down his foe but a Kingswood man keeps him from taking Eon’s head when he falls. The big bandit though does gut the Kingswood man at arms before he finds his foe on horse again. With a wordless roar he charges trying to drive the Valeknight from his saddle.

Beside him the blows between Theonald and Hafdan go back and forth. “I’m not a wildling,” the pale man shouts as he gives ground. “But I’ll gut you and leave you for the Others all the same,” he says as he stabs at Theonald again.

Harlan attacks Eon with his sword…
...and strikes him with a powerful blow!

With a gurgled cry, Samnell slides off Dermett’s blade and falls to the ground, leaving a deep red bloody stain on the Corbray’s steel.

Hafdan attacks Theonald with his sword…
...with no result as the two warriors battle!
Gilbert attacks Luthor with his mass weapon…
...with no result as the two warriors battle!

Jan curses under his breath when his attack goes awry, but he curses louder when the bandit counters, striking down at the same knee. “Shit!” Jan yells, as the blood flows even freer now. Perhaps spooked by Jan’s shouting, his horse briefly reigns up before Jan fights through the pain and calms the horse. His right leg now hangs loosely from the stirrup, the pain too great to maintain a solid seat. Nevertheless, he manages to swing back down wildly at the bandit’s left shoulder out of desparation.

Jan attacks Thom with his sword…
...and strikes him with a shattering blow!

Cleyton grunts loudly as the bandit’s sword bites into his side, denting his brestplate and getting through mail. Wordlessly he takes a downward diagonal towards the man’s neck.

Cleyton attacks Jarrod with his sword…
...and strikes him with a shattering blow!
Jarrod is driven from the saddle!

Allyn leans back at Ammon’s boot coming toward his head, he tumbles backward a bit dodging his attack. “Come on down here and fight me like a man worth fighting.” Allyn spits on the ground. “Fuck you, black shield!” Allyn slips to the other side of the horse and takes a swing at Ammon’s knee.

Allyn attacks Ammon with his mass weapon…
...and strikes him with a shattering blow!

“And you are indebted to me twice over, you stupid fop. I could have killed you seven times over when I worked for you, and none would have blinked at your passing. Now die like a good dog for your master!” Rogan barks, swinging his spear about for Urston’s head.

Luthor turns his horse almost as a second thought and lets Gilbert’s axe thump harmlessly against his shield. Then twisting with his whole body Luthor brings down his sword at the bandit’s head.

Rogan attacks Urston with his spear…
...and sees his blow go astray!
Luthor attacks Gilbert with his sword…
...and merely strikes a glancing blow!
Theonald laughs to the man, “I’m a Northman, we are used to treat you kind.” He hurries and attacks the man on his sword arm.
Theonald attacks Hafdan with his sword…
...and misses by a narrow margin!

Elmer charges from amidts his men, the big knight leaning in to hit harder, putting all the weight of his blow behind the strike, aiming it at Sutty’s chest, the Crakehall is known to fight like a demon when drunk but now he fights with more acution and calculated precision

Eon sees the man-at-arms cut down by the bandit, taking the blow square on his breastplate, the force reverberating through the mail, giving the Valeman an unsettling feeling in his stomach. In a rage he swings his sword down upon Harlan, hoping to put down this brute once and for all.

Elmer attacks Sutty with his sword…
...and merely strikes a glancing blow!
Eon attacks Harlan with his sword…
...and strikes him with a powerful blow!
Grobert attacks Tarell with his spear…
...and strikes him with a hard blow!

Andred curses under his breath as his blow once again misses. Despite all the rancor from the battle around him, the taunts from the bandit Aeryl enter his ear and echo in his skull. It only motivates his blood rage further. The bastard continues to circle from above like the falcon on his surcoat. Then he swoops. In a flash of steel, the hammer moves towards Aeryl.

Andred attacks Aeryl with his mass weapon…
...and has his blow intercepted by Aeryl’s shield.

And now Astos is indeed caught unawares, unable to parry the blow as Voss manages to hit him with his spear. Thankfully the spear’s tip does not penetrate his light ring mail, but the blow is enough to cause the Corbray knight an considerable amount of pain in his breast as he is literally pushed from the saddle. Knowing that his life depends upon it he quickly gets back on his feet, reaches for his horse’s reigns and swings himself back into the saddle, before Voss can use his advantage.

Tarell attacks Grobert with his sword…
...and sees his blow go wild!

Urston laughs, and loudly, as Rogan’s blow swings well wide. “You truly have no grasp on the use of a spear, do you? It will make nowhere near as nice a trophy now that I know you were clueless with it… I suppose I could settle for your head, instead.” Urston calmly swings forward, a testing blow aimed directly for the chest, to gauge the speed of Rogan’s reactions.

Grobert sees that a Knight is trying to ride him down, so Grobert does what any sensible bandit would do. He runs! The young bandit throws himself to the ground, and lets the knight ride past him. He picks up a discarded spear, and runs after the Knight, screaming, “OI! FUCK YOU!” While he jabs at Tarell with his spear.

Urston attacks Rogan with his sword…
...and strikes him with a swift blow!
Grobert attacks Tarell with his spear…
...with no result as the two warriors battle!
With that strike there is a grunt and a crunch, and Ammon’s eyes narrow as the bandit brings pain. “Not Blackshield,” Massey grunts through his teeth, striking downward with his blade yet again, slashing toward the man’s face.

Ammon attacks Allyn with his sword…
...and strikes him with a shattering blow!

Hafdan slips away from Theonald’s counter, then flashing up from beside the man’s horse he stabs again at the tough Northern knight. “Shame you’ll die so far from home then,” he counters as he withdraws his first stab, a fient, and tries to drive his true attack home through the Northman’s mail.

Hafdan attacks Theonald with his sword…
...and strikes him with a hard blow!

Gilbert may not have been able to hit Luthor, but he dances quickly enough not to get hit in return. Seeking to capitalize, he leaps back in and tries to strike at Luthor’s exposed sword arm.

Tarell attacks Grobert with his sword…
...with no result as the two warriors battle!

The mute Sutty must have seen Elmer coming, for he leaps aside, cat-like, and escapes the blow. He grits his teeth and brings his own sword around with all his strength toward the Crakehall’s chestplate.

Sutty attacks Elmer with his sword…
...and merely strikes a glancing blow!
Grobert attacks Tarell with his spear…
...and strikes him with a hard blow!
Gilbert attacks Luthor with his mass weapon…
...and sees his blow go wild!
Tarell attacks Grobert with his sword…
...and has his blow intercepted by Grobert’s shield.

Ryckon growls at the bandit’s jeering, and he easily maneuvers his horse away. “I’m going to enjoy killing you now, just like I killed the last person who called me that.” Well, no, Ryckon didn’t actually do that, but hopefully it sounds intimidating. He rides back to Alyxander, swinging his mace in the direction of his head.

“Yeow!” Allyn yelps pulling his hand from his cheek and seeing the blood that covers it. “Looks like a blackshield to me, lad. What do I call a dead man anyway?” He laughs madly as he switches the mace in his hands and swings for the other knee.

Allyn attacks Ammon with his mass weapon…
...with no result as the two warriors battle!

Theonald feels the blow and some of his blood is spilled on ground, but he quickly recovers himself and rushes to another attack.

Theonald attacks Hafdan with his sword…
...and strikes him with a shattering blow!
Hafdan is driven from the saddle!

Ryckon attacks Alyxander with his mass weapon…
...and strikes him with a shattering blow!

Thom is starting to look self-assured as he scores another painful mark on Jan. That is, until the Marbrand knight fights back and opens up a wound that leaves his left shoulder soon stained red. He shouts out and stabs forward and up, trying to put his blade in Jan’s sword shoulder!

Jarrod finds himself too close to Cleyton in the wake of the mark he scores on the man’s shield arm, but when the Waxley knight comes back down with his own blade the bandit raises his shield to deflect it, only it passes through just enough of a gap that the man’s jugular is suddenly sliced open. With a gurgle - still silent - the man’s eyes widen and red blood sprays over Cleyton and his horse as the bandit goes down, mouth gaping open. It’s only then that Cleyton might realize why his foe did not speak: he had no tongue.

Thom attacks Jan with his sword…
...and sees his blow go astray!

Rogan takes the cheap shot, but as he does so, he rushes forward, brandishing the haft of the spear towards Urston’s face.

No stranger to pain Harlan still finds his eyes water as the blow strikes home. The bandit’s breathing heavily now, hard pressed by the Vale knight’s attack. “JUST FUCKING DIE!” he roars as he grips his heavy sword with both hands and strikes at Eon with all his remaining strength.

Harlan attacks Eon with his sword…
...and strikes him with a swift blow!
Rogan attacks Urston with his spear…
...and strikes him with a shattering blow!
Urston is driven from the saddle!

Allyn falls back and Ammon presses forward, his jaw set. He answers the question quietly, softly, intimately. “Call me Blackhand,” he says as his sword descends in another bloody arc.

Ammon attacks Allyn with his sword…
...and merely strikes a glancing blow!

Yet again, Aeryl evades the blow of Andred’s hammer. “GODS you’re slow, boy. This is wha’ speed looks like.” And he slashes at the boys face, meaning to cut at his eye if he can get it.

Aeryl attacks Andred with his sword…
...and strikes him with a shattering blow!
Andred is rocked back in the saddle by Aeryl’s blow, but manages to keep his seat!

Urston lets loose a grunt as, all of a sudden, a single blow from the haft of a spear downs him. He crumples from his horse and hits the ground with a thump. Moaning lightly, he manages a brief “Well… you’re still a cunt…” before rapidly struggling to get away

Elmer shakes his head as this seems a rougher battle but he keeps slashing methodically, where fancy will not work, slow and steady sometimes dows. Of course there’s nothing slow abut the quick stab at Sutty’s eyes.

Elmer attacks Sutty with his sword…
...with no result as the two warriors battle!

In the wild chaos of the melee, Elmer and Sutty are carried apart from one another.

Eon roars as his blade finds the bandit’s body, though this is followed by a howl as the two-handed strike finds Eon’s breastplate. Ignoring the pain, Eon maneuvers his horse to allow a better swing and cuts down at Harlan.

Eon attacks Harlan with his sword…
...and strikes him with a shattering blow!
Harlan is driven from the saddle!

“And that’s the power of the North, dead man.” Theonald spits on the bandits face, and glances the field in seach of a new opponent, he doesn’t seems very disturbed with the latter blow that made he spill some blood.

Knocked to the ground and bleeding. Hafdan looks up at Theonald’s mounted form. “Yield…” the stricken bandit murmurs between bloody lips. “I yieild.”

Acclimated to the battle now, Jan jerks back in the saddle just enough to avoid a quick stab by the wiry bandit. The blood flows freely from his right knee now, and his leg dangles uselessly from the stirrup. But Jan knows his horse and maneuvers it behind the bandit deftly, swinging his sword across horizontally across the man’s shoulders.

Alyxander laughs, though it is cut short by Ryckon’s mace opening up his nostrils a little wider. “You FUCKING FAT LITTLE PRICK,” he shrieks, his blood nearly covering his eyes, making him swing wildly back at the squire.

Jan attacks Thom with his sword…
...and strikes him with a swift blow!
Thom is rocked back in the saddle by Jan’s blow, but manages to keep his seat!

Alyxander attacks Ryckon with his mass weapon…
...and strikes him with a swift blow!

Tarell strikes his foe, but the young bandit proves to be hard to unhorse. Grobert hits him hard, and manages to intercept one of Tarell’s blows. The anger takes command of the knight’s moves. He gets ready, and charges again at full speed, pointing high, hear the bandit’s head, wanting to finish the fight once and for all.

Sutty spins again, dodging Elmer’s blow. He is a fast one, this boy. Executing the same move that unhorsed the Crakehall the first time, he swings he blow toward the man’s back as the horse passes him in the charge.

Delivering the King’s Justice to the bandits demands for an effective and swift fighting style. Astos chooses therefore to aim for the man’s spear arm this time, hoping to cut the fight short by disarming him - literally cutting his arm off.

Astos attacks Voss with his sword…
...with no result as the two warriors battle!
In the wild chaos of the melee, Astos and Voss are carried apart from one another.

Sutty attacks Elmer with his sword…
...and strikes him with a powerful blow!

Like Hafdan, Harlan too is driven to the ground by his foe. The big bandit sobs as he sees blood running down his chest from a wound in his shoulder. “He’s killed me Haf-” he murmurs incredulously before he tumbles forward into the leaf mould, bleeding away his life.

Florian sword clashes with Grange solidly. He quickly pulls the rains back and repositions his self again adventurously to mount another pass.

“Well, Black. Hand. I sure like the beauty mark you left, I will be sure to remember you fondly after you’s gone for it.” Allyn belly laughs as Ammon’s next strike comes down with the flat of his blade. “Ah, you let your anger get the best of ye’. Very well.” Allyn runs up along side of Ammon and swings to hit the man on his back with a backward swing.

Allyn attacks Ammon with his mass weapon…
...with no result as the two warriors battle!

Thom can’t keep up with Jan’s added mobility atop his horse, which leads to the sword coming down in back to slice him open enough that a strap of his boiled leather is cut apart along with the wound in back. He roars out and swings wildly in response, lashing out closest to Jan’s sword hand.

Thom attacks Jan with his sword…
...and strikes him with a powerful blow!
Jan is driven from the saddle!

Voss too, spins faster than one would expect away from the blow- perhaps that’s how Sutty learned the skill. He laughs. “You want more? I can shit on your corpse too.”

Voss attacks Astos with his spear…
...and misses by a narrow margin!

“Am I?” Rogan laughs, as a gauntleted hand reaches down and grabs a hold of the blade as Urston falls, catching it neatly, if not somewhat painfully. “Why not get back up, and I’ll show you what I can do with it?”

Luthor meets the bandit’s axe with his sword this time. There’s fury in the bastard’s eye, but it’s a cold fury. He twists the axe aside with his blade then brings it back and strikes down at the man’s head with a backslash.

Elmer is still entangled with his enemy, the bandit proving a worthy for and as such, Elmer does give him a salute, before attacking, his sword flashing down and trying to put down the bandit once in for all

Ammon spins his horse, avoiding Allyn’s attack. With a roar, he brings his blade around: the flat of it descends towards the bandit’s temple.

Ammon attacks Allyn with his sword…
...and strikes him with a powerful blow!
Allyn is rocked back in the saddle by Ammon’s blow, but manages to keep his seat!

Elmer attacks Sutty with his sword…
...and strikes him with a swift blow!

Andred’s circling stops. What causes him to stop? A sword flashes up and cuts him on the neck. Blood wells quickly from that deep wound. The bastard starts to become dizzy. The pain from the previous shattering blow him in the leg also adds to that dazed state of great pain. He stares down at the bandit and says nothing. Only swings his hammer desperately at the man. Sticky blood flows down his neck congregating where the top of his plate meets the bottom of his neck.

Luthor attacks Gilbert with his sword…
...and strikes him with a swift blow!
Andred attacks Aeryl with his mass weapon…
...and strikes him with a swift blow!

Grobert yells at Tarell as the Knight rides off, “I bet you is better at fuckin’ your mother then swingin’ at good ole Grobert! C’MON!” He holds his spear at the ready as the Knight rides towards him.

Urston scrambles to his feet, gasping and clutching a bloodied nose. “Fhine.” he manages, glaring fiercely at Rogan. “Give me the fucking spear, then, and I’ll gut you with it.”

A satisfied smile flickers across Ser Dermett Corbray’s face as he turns his courser from the rat-faced bandit. Surveying the battlefield, Ser Dermett’s face soon shifts to worry as he sees allies falling and the bandit contingent very much on the ascendancy. Across the battlefield he sees Ser Eon Hunter struggling and the Corbray heir looks very much like he wants to assist the man. “Eon! Stay strong! FOR THE VALE!” he roars, trying to encourage the man. His attention soon turns to Andred Stone, a squire of the Vale, almost knocked from his saddle. Ser Dermett charges down upon the man assaulting Stone and launches a heavy swing of his sword at the man’s torso…

Grange circles, readying an attack for Florian again, and lashes out at the first available opportunity.

Dermett attacks Aeryl with his sword…
...and strikes him with a shattering blow!
Grange attacks Florian with his sword…
...and has his blow intercepted by Florian’s shield.

“I will cut the shit out of your belly, you scum!” Astos retorts as he swings his sword after Voss’s huge belly, putting all of his strength into the strike.

Astos attacks Voss with his sword…
...and strikes him with a shattering blow!
Voss is driven from the saddle!

Ryckon scowls at the continued taunting, but then lets out a mirthless chuckle. “You don’t learn, do you? I knew all bandits were imbeciles but this—Gah!” His own taunting is interrupted when Alyxander slashes his leg when he rides by. Not a major wound, but still painful. So he stops talking and swings for Alyxander’s head again.

Such a quick boy, this Sutty. A step aside leaves only another glancing blow against his leathers instead of the brutal blow of death. Perhaps recognizing this foe as worthy, the ruined corner of his mouth curls into something that might pretend to be a smile. He aims his next for the Elmer’s head.

Ryckon attacks Alyxander with his mass weapon…
...and strikes him with a shattering blow!
Alyxander is driven from the saddle!
Grobert attacks Tarell with his spear…
...and strikes him with a powerful blow!
Tarell is rocked back in the saddle by Grobert’s blow, but manages to keep his seat!

Off comes Allyn’s ear and blood pours forth as it dangles there. “Ah, you would have had me, lad.” He tears the dangling ear and tosses it at Ammon, “Here halfhand, keep my half ear, perhaps you can start a half part collection.” Allyn chortles, and takes another swing at Ammon’s back.

Allyn attacks Ammon with his mass weapon…
...with no result as the two warriors battle!
Sutty attacks Elmer with his sword…
...and strikes him with a hard blow!
Tarell attacks Grobert with his sword…
...with no result as the two warriors battle!

Jan’s strike lands solidly, but because of his leg, he cannot avoid the man’s wild swing in response. The sword clatters into the chainmail on his right arm and sends Jan flying from his mount, his sword skittering out of his hand. Frantically, he scrambles in the dirt and grabs it, hurriedly helping himself to his feet. He limps noticeably, knee still bleeding, and he touches the wound gingerly. “Well, the sword arm still works,” he mutters as he looks around for the bandit who unhorsed him, limping with the blade up in a defensive position.

Gilbert doesn’t move away from Luthor’s sword quite fast enough, and loses a fair bit of scalp for it. Now full of pure rage, he simply throws caution to the wind and attempts to launch himself onto Luthor’s own horse’s back, swinging as he goes.

Gilbert attacks Luthor with his mass weapon…
...with no result as the two warriors battle!

Elmer looks down and he’s had a valiant fight but now words come behind his visor. “Time to end this boy. And he spurs his horse forward, what use to have him otherwise, half to push into Sutty, and half to give him a closer range to swong the sword down in a slash against Sutty’s chest

“Why do you lot -always- talk!” Ammon shouts, as the ear hits him. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!?!” But his horse is turning, and Ammon snarls as he brings is blade down once more to finish the man. The blow is meant to incapacitate, of course—the orders were for prisoners.

Ammon attacks Allyn with his sword…
...and has his blow intercepted by Allyn’s shield.
Elmer attacks Sutty with his sword…
...and strikes him with a swift blow!

This time Aeryl does catch part of Andred’s hammer, and curses at the blow, slight though it is. “Fuckin’ hell, boy, thas more like it! You stay here, I get you all the cunny you coul’ want. That sound nice?” He smiles, and brings his sword toward the squire’s head again, trying to finish the job.

Aeryl attacks Andred with his sword…
...and has his blow intercepted by Andred’s shield.

“Fine then,” Rogan grins, before thrusting the spear full on at Urston, intent on burying it in him once and for all. (tm)

“Get off!” Luthor shouts at Gilbert as he twists in the saddle and puts his shield between the man’s axe and Luthor’s body. Then, blade held by his side the bastard knight forces it forward to drive slowly into the bandit’s gut.

Rogan attacks Urston with his spear…
...and strikes him with a shattering blow!
Luthor attacks Gilbert with his sword…
...and strikes him with a hard blow!

“We talk,” Allyn dodges Ammon’s blade and stumbles back once more. ” so we can get you all angered like so you miss like you just have. Now die you horse fucker. Blackhand BAH!” Allyn reaches up to pull Ammon from the saddle. “Giddown here!”

Allyn attacks Ammon with his mass weapon…
...and sees his blow go wild!

Theonald now approaches Gilbert in help of Luthor, “Here, jousting champion,” He shouts to the knight, “Let’s make the woods safe again.” he grins, rushing a blow against Gilbert’s right arm.

Thom laughs at Jan, circling him now that the Marbrand man is off his horse. He ‘jabs’ at the knight with his shield, trying to draw the sword out of its defensive position. “Looks like you don’t dance so good, do you?” he taunts, making another poke with the shield before lashing out at Jan’s side, aiming to score a mark near the hip and ribs.

Theonald attacks Gilbert with his sword…
...with no result as the two warriors battle!
In the wild chaos of the melee, Theonald and Gilbert are carried apart from one another.
Thom attacks Jan with his sword…
...and merely strikes a glancing blow!

Urston grimaces as the spear clatters into him, piercing his leathers and letting blood flow. “Oh, you truly are a cunt.” he mumbles, drawing the hand that was wiping blood from his nose away from his face, and revealing a concealed blade, just before the Coldwater leaps aside clear of the spear and lunges for Rogan.

Urston attacks Rogan with his sword…
...and strikes him with a shattering blow!
Rogan is driven from the saddle!

No more words: Ammon takes his own advice. That sword comes down again, wickedly sharp, in a vicious arc. And there is -NO- attempt at taking a prisoner with this one.

Ammon attacks Allyn with his sword…
...and strikes him with a hard blow!
Allyn is driven from the saddle!

And so Voss’s belly does open with Astos’s blow. Blood spurts, and the wealth of organs and fat contained in that keg of a gut slide out as the man hurriedly tries to shove them back in, sputtering as his hands find only a bloody hole. His knees give out, and the huge man falls, leaving his entrails splayed in a line across the ground.

“Why don’t you go suck your mama’s teat then, you fat-” but whatever words his taunt was going to end with, Ryckon makes sure that “fat” is the last word that the long time bandit Alyxander ever says, before his head is caved in by a well timed downward arc that leave the man almost unidentifyable.

Despite his leg, Jan manages to sidestep the bandit’s swipe just barely, though it still nicks his side. He narrows his eyes and growls, “Unfortunately for you, we’re fighting, not dancing,” as he opts for brute force, a powerful vertical swing at the bandit’s sword arm.

Jan attacks Thom with his sword…
...and strikes him with a hard blow!
Thom is driven from the saddle!

Sutty catches the blow across his chest, groaning- which turns into a horrific, hollow scream as he sees Voss’s opened corpse splayed on the ground. Eyes wide, he storms toward Elmer, swinging wildly for the man’s throat and screaming all the while.

Through all the pain, something within Andred keeps him atop his horse and fighting on. The bastard slaps away what was meant to a final blow with his shield. Then, he sees Dermett move in on his bandit. “You! Get the fuck away! This one is mine. Find your own.” His voice is booming, pained, but booming. The squire may need help, but never expect him to admit it. His eyes dart back down the bandit. “I would rather kill you and fuck your corpse.” With that said, he swings his hammer down hoping for its aim to be true. He swings with the spike this time.

Sutty attacks Elmer with his sword…
...with no result as the two warriors battle!
Andred attacks Aeryl with his mass weapon…
...and strikes him with a swift blow!

Tarell is covered by blood. Blood and sweat. But the fight isn’t over. Though the bandit seems really better than the knight, he continues fighting in a long exchange of blows. The heir gets ready, aims for the foe and rides.

The sound of steel on shield rings out in the forest among the clashes of swords, screams of dieing men, and war cries. Florian buckles as he shields his self from Grange’s quick attack. Florian pulls on the rains and causes his great horse to stand on it’s hind legs in the attempt to startle Grange’s horse and in doing so, improving his chances of opening a window of attack. As the horse came down, Florian drives his sword towards Grange’s weapon’s arm while simultaneously using his shield’s edge to strike at Grange’s own shield.

Florian attacks Grange with his sword…
...and strikes him with a hard blow!

And that does it for Rogan. The concealed blade pierces his side, and the traitor heaves, dropping the spear (likely stuck in Urston), before slipping his sword into his belt, clutching his wound, and holding onto his horse for dear life before he kicks it into a full charge, making another mad dash to the treeline.

The blow comes down on Allyn’s black, hard. Though, some stroke of fate makes it the sword turn to the side and smack him with an unsettling force taking Allyn to his knees. “I yield, send me arse to the wall. You have silenced me ser.” Allyn slides an upward glance to Ammon, though it is not pleading and it is accompanied by a wide grin.

Eyeing the mess of the dead Voss from his elevated position on his horse Astos frowns slightly, saying to noone in particular: “I failed in taking that one alive, it seems.” And turns his steed to cast a quick glance around where his help would be needed.

Thom soon finds out the truth of Jan’s words. It is a fight, not a dance, and when the counter comes it’s hard enough that the bandit is suddenly disarmed and dropping his shield as well, clutching at his arm with a cry before he drops to his knees and raises his empty hands. “I yield, ser! I yield! Have mercy!”

Urston roars as Rogan makes his escape for the thousanth time, but the blood trickling from his chest and the pain echoing through him stops him short of making persuit. He flings his blade uselessly after the bandit, crumples to his knees, and begins to urgently tend his own wounds. On the bright side, he had won a free -slightly bloody- spear.

Luthor does manage to push Gilbert off of his horse, the other man crashing to the ground in a heap of leather and metal. But he rolls, and, standing back up in a fit of adrenaline and unadulterated rage, barrels at Luthor once again, unwilling to give up the prize of his petty revenge.

Grobert attacks Tarell with his spear…
...and strikes him with a hard blow!
Tarell is driven from the saddle!

As the man Aeryl launches another assault on Andred Stone, Ser Dermett aims another heavy blow at the bandit. He swings low and hard at the man’s groin with a wicked grin upon his face, ignoring Stone’s plea to leave the man for him to end.

Elmer swears loudly as the bandit seems to have more lives in him than a cat. And as such, Elmer who’s never been a kind soul rides forward, sword raised. “Yield boy..and you’ll be spared and given a place with my men..for you fought well…Fight on and die!”

Dermett attacks Aeryl with his sword…
...and strikes him with a shattering blow!
Aeryl is driven from the saddle!

Ammon considers the man’s request a moment as he scans the combatants—and there is the heir to Duskendale, hard pressed. he shakes his head, does Ammon Blackhand, and says, quite simply, “No.”

His horse rears again, by design this time, and stomps down at Allyn. And Ammon spurs his mount toward the now-fallen Tarell and his opponent.

It’s seems that Theonald’s horse is more faster than he expected and he is dragged away from the melee against Gilbert. But only briefly, he approaches the man again, with his horse almost jumping over him, he then aims the swords against the chest of the bandit with a steady thrust.

Gilbert attacks Luthor with his mass weapon…
...and merely strikes a glancing blow!
Theonald attacks Gilbert with his sword…
...with no result as the two warriors battle!

The hard blow from Florian sets Grange into a fit of swearing, as he wheels about, the better to reposition himself against Florian’s juxtaposing, before striking out when the right moment is reached.

Grobert waits until Tarell is on him, and changes his hold on his spear from proper spear-hold, to holding it like a club. He swings it when the Knight approaches, and lets out a suprised sound when Tarell flies from his saddle. The young bandit announces, “Well, fuck this!” And begins running off towards the woods!

Grange attacks Florian with his sword…
...and has his blow intercepted by Florian’s shield.

Aeryl catches another swift blow with a grunt, but still dodges the point of the hammer. He smirks to Andred. “Well, if that’s wha’ yur into. How bout I carve /you/ a cunny and fuck your corpse?” But Aeryl hasn’t seen the other Corbray coming, and the steel is not gentle as it carves the cunny in him instead. His jaw drops, as does his sword, as he slides down onto the blade farther. His fingers grab at the split bits of cock, some of them now falling to the ground, as he breeches fill with blood- but then he pitches forward, breathing his last with his arse, supported by Dermett’s sword, sticking straight up into the air.

Jan kicks the bandit’s sword out of reach and strikes him with the hilt of his sword; not hard enough to kill, but just hard enough to send him face-down in the dirt. “Stay there and shut the hell up.” His knee, though, still coarses blood, though less than before. Mobility lacking, Jan circles the fallen bandit before him and keeps his blade up, searching the chaos for any compatriots that may need assistance.

Luthor curses as his shield is driven back into his own face by the strength of Gilbert’s axe blow. Throwing caution and the shield into the wind he unburdens himself of its protection and grips his blade in both hands. Luthor advances on the bandit slowly, keeping the blade pointed at his foe, then when he’s closed enough, he strikes, blade rising in a flash of steel and falling towards the man’s neck.

Luthor attacks Gilbert with his sword…
...and strikes him with a powerful blow!
Gilbert is driven from the saddle!

Tarell is thrown to the floor by the strike of the bandit. There is even more blood than before inside his armor, but the bandit runs away and the Darklyn knight doesn’s seems pleased. “I’m not done yet! We Darklyns don’t die fast!” he shouts as he remounts his warhorse. “Lightraven, I’m sorry, but we must do it…” Tarell whispers to his horse and quickly signals his squire to get closer and hand him a fresh lance.

Ser Dermett slides the corpse of the bandit off with his boot and settles back into his saddle. Expecting a torrent of abuse from the Arryn bastard, Ser Dermett rears his horse and once again surveys the battlefield. He sees one bandit fleeing and takes massive exception to that. He kicks his horse into a gallop and aims a heavy sword blow at the man’s neck…

Dermett attacks Grobert with his sword…
...and strikes him with a shattering blow!

Ammon comes on toward Tarell and the now fleeing bandit, Grobert. He is a young man, by the look of him. But he will die just the same. And so Ammon Blackhand rides the fleeing bandit down, swinging his sword in a gory arc toward the man’s back when he is close enough.

Ammon attacks Grobert with his sword…
...and strikes him with a shattering blow!
Grobert is driven from the saddle!

Sutty stares at the Crakehall. His head tilts. His mouth opens- the long scar across his face apparently did not spare his tongue, for a neat diagonal of it is missing. He hisses, eyes narrowing with a last glance to Voss’s corpse, and he charges toward Elmer with his sword raised.

Allyn’s eyes flash with anger as the horse rears up over him, he goes to protest, though, only finding the word, “Fucker!” before the horse crashes down on to his back, leveling him into a puddle. Face full of mud Allyn has no more words left to say as his ribs begin to separate from his spine. An awful popping noise is heard under Ammon’s horse, then as the horse and rider spurs off, the horses back hooves crush Allyn’s skull. His eyes pop from their sockets as a flattened mess of brain matter and blood spread around his small frame.

Elmer looks at the boy almost sad and he raises in the saddle a little to make his blow clean, aimed at Sutty’s neck. “Fool boy!”

Elmer attacks Sutty with his sword…
...and merely strikes a glancing blow!

Florian desperately raises his own shield to block the worrier’s blow. His arms begin to burn as the battle continues. He quickly takes a swing at Grange’s head, expecting the warrior to parry the attack, as he does, Florian would attempts to maneuver his own sword’s strength to the warrior sword’s weakness and lever a blow.

Florian attacks Grange with his sword…
...and merely strikes a glancing blow!

“Fuck you, Corbray.” Andred mutters when the Corbray “steals” his kill. The bastard rides towards the closest bandit, Grange, and swings his hammer towards the poor bugger’s skull with all his rage and power behind the strike. His neck wound at this point has grown crusted with blood, but it still hurts like a bitch. His leg and shoulder also are in agony, but he pushes on.

Andred attacks Grange with his mass weapon…
...and strikes him with a shattering blow!
Grange is driven from the saddle!

Seeing Harlan fall brought a grim smile to Eon’s face. The din of battle is almost inaudible to the knight. Eon swears he could have heard another knight yell something to him. As the brute hits the ground Eon spots another one laying on the ground, bleeding, though not yet dead. Dismounting, Eon walks over to the barely alive Hafdan and while keeping his wits about him, the Valeman points a sword at the bandit’s throat, “Surrender and you live, move and you die.”

Grobert is almost home-free! Then the duo of Ammon, and Dermett come thumdering down on him. The Knights manage to strike the poor lad almost simutaneously on his back, and he screams out in pain as the blades slash at his flesh. The young bandit falls down into the dirt, and screams in pain. “DON’T KILL ME I DON’T WANT TO DIE.” Snot bubbles from his nose as he screams, “GODS NOOOO.”

The low hiss continues. Sutty is barely grazed by Elmer’s sword as he aims toward the man’s throat, his eyes cold and his half tongue flicking out, snake-like.

Sutty attacks Elmer with his sword…
...and has his blow intercepted by Elmer’s shield.

Elmer wastes no more time with words and blocks the incoming attack, and cuts at Sutty’s face quickly. “Enought already Crakehall and the Rock!”

So many charges of rage leaves one fatigued after a time, and it is in that moment of rest that Ser Luthor makes his two handed chop. Gilbert is bellowing with rage again, one last time, the spittle dropping from his lips as his temple bulge under the strain of his warshout…but fear is no shield against certain men, and the Rivers bastard cleaves in a downward chop that decaptiates the bellowing bandit in one swoop - though it is not a pretty cut, coming down at an angle and making a jagged gash across his shoulderblades, tearing the errant head from its torso moreso than cutting it free. The head, of course, remains in a pose of screaming, while the torso simply slumps forward, spewing blood from its neck wound as if in a last act of definace to Luthor.

Elmer attacks Sutty with his sword…
...and strikes him with a hard blow!
Sutty is driven from the saddle!

Hafdan is just staring at Harlan’s corpse. The pale bandit is paler still, providing contrast for the blood on his lips. Though when he feels the sword at his throat he tilts back his head, his glassy pale eyes looking up at Eon, “I’m yours,” he croaks, and to prove his point he lets go of the blade in his hand.

Ser Urston Coldwater rises to his feet again at last. A makeshift bandage made from the cloth of his cloak has stemmed the trickle of blood from his chest, but he was still worse for wear. The Deputy Warden stands, assesses the battlefield, and begins to bark needless commands, if only to feel useful. “TAKE PRISONERS!”

Luthor watches the bloody horror of Gilbert’s death without expression. He curbs his horse who wickers and stomps with the smell of so much blood, and then turns his eyes to the field. “Theonald,” he says recognizing the Northern knight. “Have you seen Rogan. Rogan Turncloak? I swear if someone else has killed him I’ll drag his poxy soul back from the Seven Hells to kill him again.”

Ammon reins his horse up as Grobert falls before him, and turns toward Ser Dermett. He nods to the knight he so recently took part in beating. “Well struck,” he says simply. And dismounts.

Bending over the fallen Grobert, Ammon uses his ruined hand to flip the boy onto his back. At Urston’s shouted command, Ammon looks up—and then back down at the boy. “A pity I don’t serve -this- warden,” he says, and there is the sound of rending and tearing as Ammon’s longsword slides through armor and into the soft flesh of the bandit’s belly.

Finally, young and so quick Sutty is cut down. The blade enters through the scar already on his face, angling up until it exits like the decoration of a tourney helm through the boy’s head, spraying an arc of blood and brains from the newly-made hole. Sutty gurgles, his already cold eyes going fully vacant even as he stares at Elmer without blinking unto his last. He slides slowly off the blade, just as the remainder of his tongue falls softly from his mouth onto the hard ground.

Grange does none of those things. Instead, when he leans into the attack he intends to make against Florian, Andred Stone’s hammer finds the back of his head, and then Grange finds his face in the dirt, pretty damn quickly. And from there, he never moves again.

“Not really, ser.” Answers Theonald truly disappointed, “I wish they were stronger, most of them are already fleeing.” The knight glances around for another opportunity.

Breathing heavily, Eon smiles as the bandit drops his blade. The Valeman moves to the side a bit and kicks Hafdan’s sword away, lest he be tempted to fight again. Looking back at Harlan, Eon acknowledges that the man is beyond saving, and the knight scans the area, trying to protect his prisoner, though it appears that the bandits are being cut down quickly enough. Eon takes his sword point away from being at Hafdan’s throat, though he does not let it go far. “You have made your first wise choice in a long while.” The Valeman listens as the reminder to take prisoners echos across the clearing, brining a grin to Eon’s face. The rush of energy is starting to wane, though the soreness of the blows is still dulled.

Ser Dermett passes through the fleeing bandit as if he is not there, his blade so sharp that he barely felt the hack. Glancing up he notices Ser Ammon- “the knight that did not hit” - riding adjacent to him. He offers a respectful nod before returning his glare to the battlefield.

Florian roars in support as Ser Andred rides and strikes Grange off his horse. He turns his horse completely around to check for any additional foes.

“Well done, Ser Ammon.” Tarell’s voice is somehow solemn, as Grobert lies dead on the ground. “You too, Ser Dermett.” his eyes hasn’t moved away from the Massey knight as Dermett turns and returns to the battle. A gentle nod is given.

Grobert almost whispers, “No-” his words cut off as Ammon’s sword slips into his belly. A fount of blood spurts from Grobert’s belly, and his mouth. With eyes full of disbelief he dies.

Ryckon doesn’t smile easily, but he gives a small grin anyway as he cuts the bandit’s insult bloodily short. “These bandits… they never learn, really.” There is too much commotion for him to ride over to any other bandit, so he just stays alert and ahorse, waiting for the battle to wind down. When it does, he rides back toward the Warden and awaits orders.

Jan shakes his head as he sees Ammon heartlessly slaughter another potential prisoner. He looks around, satisfied that all the bandits are either dead, or captured. As the thrill of battle subsides, though, his knee gives out, and he falls to the ground. He grits his teath and tears off a piece of his leggings to wrap the wound himself, sitting upright next to the unconscious bandit beside him.

Andred looks down at corpse of Grange. His fingers tighten upon his hammer waiting to see if the bandit rises, but he is a corpse so he does not. The bastard now seeing only blurs due to a loss of blood from his neck looks utterly lost. His eyes start to flutter before he gradually passes out. His hammer drops to the ground. His shield does too. The boy, however, collapses onto his horse not the ground. The reliable older courser does not buck him off, but instead, the large frame of Andred lays on the beast’s neck arms clutched around it in his slumber. He would stay like that until his knight sees it (when the battle is over). The bastard would be carried back and given to the Maesters. |

Elmer pulls back, the fight took it out of him, his eyes scanning the field. Is his help needed? Even so he takes one long drink of wine before rejoining the fray, a bit of sadness in his eyes. That kid… could have been saved and grown to be a good soldier.

Cleyton scan’s the battlefield for more bandits. Seeing only dead men and prisoners, he rides over to his cousin Jan. “You allright Coz?” he yes as he wipes the blood off of his sword and sheaths it. Seeing Jan fall to the ground he quickly dismounts and runs to the Marbrand Knight’s aid.

Ser Urston Coldwater stares in awe as a captured bandit with potential vital information is pointlessly gutted. He storms over -well, stumbles, but with fierce anger in his eyes all the same- and glares hungrily down at Ammon Massey “Care to explain yourself?” he snarls, blood dripping down his chin.

As the battle dies down Astos looks around to see how his fellow knights have been doing. “Good to see you are still in one piece.” Astos says to Dermett with a wry grin as he passes him on his horse. “Well fought, ser.”

The Warden does not command a reserve this time, the trap sprung too quickly to organize much of one. Instead, he is swirled along in the chaos of the combat right alongside his men, fighting…or more like, picking off the enemies that his more skilled entourage goes throuhg the trouble of wounding for him…like a true commander.

The battle lasts for nearly an hour, due mostly to the sun setting and the twilight causing less arrows from the treetops to find their marks. In the end, the treeline the knights came from is lined with the dead horses of the Kingswood company, pikes or arrows sticking out of them at odd angles, while the rest of the bandits are put to furious route. Most of the Company breaks off to deal with the snipers, but several remain behind to capture the remnants…though most “capturing” is merely plucking bandits that have no quite reached death yet from the ground, and making them stand in a line.

As the sounds of combat die down, Ser Farin rides into the center of camp. “Someone, report to me on our wounded or dead. Line up the prisioners,” he breathes, weary, but his tone seething with a barely controlled anger. “Where is my squire? My retainer? My cousin? Find them then,” he orders some officer, and awaits the reports.

Dismounting, Ser Dermett reaches into a saddlebag and removes a wineskin. He drinks deep. With his horse in hand - his mount both as sweaty and exhausted as himself - Ser Dermett wanders over to Ser Eon Hunter. His fellow Vale knight looks worn out and Ser Dermett tosses him his half empty wineskin. “Drink up lad. Not so great for the body but it gets rid of that fucking headache. You held your ground well.” He offers the man a reassuring nod before turning to eye the knights around him. As Andred Stone falls, Ser Dermett winces. As his uncle Astos speaks to him, Ser Dermett replies: “Aye, uncle, one piece. A pity about the cunts that met the edge of my sword.” He smiles and nods. As Ser Farin assembles the men for a debrief and reports, Ser Dermett falls in and stands respectfully silent.

Ammon offers the heir to Duskendale a nod, still on his knees over the dying man. And then another, Farin’s deputy, is shouting at him. Ammon rises, looking the man in the eye. There is no humor there, no sadness, no anger. Only ice. “No,” he says, wiping his blade down on a rag torn from Grobert’s tunic. Turning, he begins to limp toward his horse.

Florian takes a mental note of the Knight who killed the defenseless bandit that laid on the ground. He places his sword back into his scabbard and checks his mail for holes. When he was stratified that he hadnot been pierced, he road causally towards the others. Warm blood covers the left side of his head.

“Very well.” Urston calls briskly after the Massey as he departs “Ser Willard will hear of this promptly, and I will do my level best to have any semblance of decision-making plucked from you. You have no brains, Ser. Either that or you care not for the lives of the women we are trying to save.” with that, Urston stumbles towards Farin, his dramatics ruined by the blood dripping lamely down his face and spattering onto his clothes.

Theonald approaches the Warden, he unmounts and greets him. “Ser Farin,” He says, “there’s nothing like the joy of a duty fullfield, am I right?” He asks, with a smile on his face. The melee hasn’t affected much of the Northman.

The officer searching for Ryckon might search for quite a while, because the squire rides in from the other direction just as the officer leaves. “I’m here, ser. Er… the one I was fighting is dead and I think most of the others are… I mean, most of the bandits. We have… more wounded than would be ideal…”

Eon breathes a sigh of relief as the call to regroup was given. With it goes the last of the rush, and the pain begins to slip back, while there was no blood, there was a good deal of bruising, the purple blotches hidden by armor, though evident in the grimace on Eon’s face. Pointing his sword at the bandit he says, “Get up, cur, and get in line.”

“Who cares if they flee. They always flee, then we chase them down again and make corpses of them. That’s the dance we’re dancing, and it never ends. So you’ll get your chance to kill more bandits, don’t you worry,” Luthor says to Theonald still scanning the field for Rogan’s corpse. He doesn’t find but he finds the corpses of some of the Kingswood men, men he knew and liked. His scowl deepens. “I’m done with this,” he announces and turns his horse to begin to ride from the field.

“Better than this fool,” Jan growls, motioning to the bandit, as he finishes wrapping the wound. “It’ll be fine. You don’t swing a sword with his knee.” Still, the grimace on his face indicates the knee is much more painful as he lets on, and his makeshift wrapping is already stained with blood. “Well fought, coz,” he says, struggling to his feet.

Despite his knee, he manages to hoist the barely-conscious bandit to his feet with Cleyton’s help. He labors, dragging both his right leg and the bandit, before tossing the man in front of Farin. “Here’s one prisoner, ser,” he says through gritted teeth, rubbing his right knee.

Hafdan staggers to his feet and makes his way under Eon’s guidance to take his place in line with the other prisoners. He stares at the Warden sullenly waiting for his fate.

Noticing the anger of Ser Urston directed at Ser Ammon, Ser Dermett grins. Shuffling in next to his not-too-distant relative, Ser Dermett leans in says: “You murder the little shit, Massey? To be fair, I don’t think the lad would have lasted too long up on the wall with two gaping wounds on him. I reckon you did the lad a service.”

Florian rides and stations his horse a few pases away from Farin and Eon. He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a handkerchief. Florian begins to clean his hands mail, and face. Once the cloth is saturated with mud, sweat, and blood, he discards it.

Ammon turns back to Urston, weathering the man’s tongue lashing in silence. He shrugs. “Don’t trouble yourself, ser,” he says softly. “I will tell my lord of Saltcliffe myself; no need to involve good Ser Willard. My friend has much on his mind of late, with his wedding fast approaching. Besides,” Ammon continues as he gestures toward the other bandits, many of whom are alive and breathing, “you have other prisoners.”

And then Ammon turns to Dermett as the heir to Heart’s Home comes up. “Likely he wouldn’t, Corbray,” Ammon says softly. And then, as an afterthought: “You seem to be recovering well.”

Cleyton helps Jan to his feet before he assists him with dragging the bandit to Ser Farin. “We’ll need to get a maester to check out that knee for you.” Smiling slight he he chuckles “You may be celebrating your name-day with Milk of the Poppy instead of wine.” As they take the man over to the commander he seems to recall his own wound. Looking down at the blood on his armor he says, “I might need some of that myself.”

Farin gives Ryckon a nod, and lets Urston fight his fight for now, choosing instead to focus on the others. “Set up whatever makeshift infirmary you can in those huts, for the wounded. We ride back at first opportunity; I will not stay here and suffer Rogan bringing back another batch of archers…if they have any left. /Gods/, he spits. This is the /smaller/ of the factions,” the Warden growls, his posture failing him, casuing him to slump as he sweats.

When the living bandits are brought before him, Ser Farin offers them the same choice he has on the last two occassions…take the black, or suffer the full penalties for their crimes, one after the other, before the hanging. The hoice is first given to the one dragged forward by Eon.

“Barely took a hit. The shield’s more worn than me,” Ser Dermett says to Ser Ammon, pointing at his ruined shield on his back. The ravens that once adorned it are now short a few feathers and the deep marks that Samnell left look much deeper in hindsight. “I took a worse beating back in the city.” Ser Dermett smiles a rueful smile and raises his eyebrows. “Beginners luck I guess.”

Passing Cleyton and Jan, Astos offers a friendly nod, frowning slightly at the mention of milk of the poppy. “Ser Cleyton, Ser Jan. I might be in need of that as well…” Now that their task has been fulfilled, more or less successfully, the traces of the fight make themselves known to the Corbray knight. His left arm is throbbing in pain and he probably broke one or two ribs when Voss pushed him from his saddle with his spear. Gritting his teeth he awaits the signal for their return to the Red Keep.

“Celebrating /our/ namedays with milk of the poppy /and/ wine,” Jan responds to Cleyton, finally smiling. “I haven’t forgotten, coz. And I think the maesters will allow us both tonics.” He turns to Astos and nods. “Well-fought, ser. They put up a better struggle than last time.” With that, he sets upon the huts to put together an infirmary, per Farin’s orders, though he has no idea how to do so.

Ser Urston rounds on Ser Ammon, as if to talk further. Then all of a sudden he calmly kneels on the floor. To others, it might look as if he was taking in his surroundings, absorbing the scene, perhaps reflecting on events that had come to pass. Then the Coldwater looks around himself with a tranquil expression and promptly leans forward to vomit. He stands and wipes his sleeve off his mouth to clear away the puke and blood, eying Ammon shakily but as fierce as he can manage. “Willard will hear of what he must. I know him well enough to…” the Coldwater trails off, and he walks briskly away

Ammon nods again, sagging a bit as the adrenaline leaves him. “A fight where you are barely hit are the best fights, I’ve found,” he says—and he reaches forward to clap the heir to Heart’s Home on the shoulder. “And so I say again: well fought. I trust you’ll make a song of this?”

And then Coldwater is back. Ammon scowls, his hands clench into fists. He steps forward—and the Urston falls to his knees. For a heartbeat, just a heartbeat, Ammon’s scowl clears. He seems about to move toward the fallen man.
But he doesn’t. He simply nods, and limps back toward his horse as Ser Farin begins to hand out judgements.

Theonald is drinking some water that he brought on his saddlebag, looking for some known face among the victorious combatents as he rests a bit from the fight.

Cleyton chuckles again to Jan “That will be some celebration. Although we’ll need to be careful what we do after that party. I got myself into enough trouble the last time we drank. In fact, it seems everytime we drink in this city there is some kind of trouble. It was my fault this time though.”

Hafdan looks up at the Warden. The pale bandit shrugs. “They always say I look like an Other, may as well go see a real one,” he spits some blood on the ground. “I’ll take the black.”

Theonald listens to Hafdan’s willing to join the Night’s Watch. “You?!” He laughs, “It seems that you’ve liked the taste of the North.” His eyes gaze upon bandit’s one.

Florian ties his horse to a thick branch and unsaddle his horse. He walks towards a boulder which he uses as a seat as he removes the head covering mail. The inside of the mail is coated with blood. Florian shakes off his left gauntlet and touches the warmth slickness on the side of his head. He courses under his breath as the pain comes into focus.

“A song, aye, perhaps,” Ser Dermett lies as Ser Ammon wanders off, a scowl upon the Corbray heir’s face. He eyes the corpses littered around and shakes his head. Reclaiming his wineskin from Eon - the Hunter knight seemingly unaware that he’d tossed him it - Ser Dermett remounts his courser. Eyeing the bandits set before the Warden, Ser Dermett groans. “It’s not a difficult question you craven shits. The Wall or death? Hurry the fuck up about it, I’m rather cold.” Ser Dermett laughs at Ser Theonald’s jape, a snarl of a grin on his lips as some of the knights indulge in a little mockery.

Eon watched as Hafdan elects to take the black, “At least the cur has brains.” Taking his sword, the Valeman wipes the blood off the blade and returns it to his scabbard. The situation being dealt with, Eon rummages around to find a wineskin in one of the huts. The wineskin actually had some decent wine in it, not the usual swill of bandits. Drinking just enough to deal with his thirst and dull the pain, Eon remounts his horse and rides over to watch the rest of the prisoners’ choices.

The Warden frowns as the northman laughs at his bandit, but the frown is not directed at Theonald’s action…but rather, it might seem, that the bandit did not provide an opportunity to make of himself. “Well chosen; launch yourself at the wildlings like you did my men and maybe your life will have some redemption,” Farin spits back, though it is in the tone of a man who either does not care, or wishes only to be rid of the choice. He then continues down the line, making the same offer to the others, many of whom are bleeding too heavily for their answers to make much difference. Those, Farin makes the examples of, cutting off hands and ordering castrations before having their throats slit, so the ones who are whole will not protest…though it is, in truth, a moot point. All but those on death’s threshold were already willing to take the Black, and remained that way redgardless of the spectacle.

Jan limps back out of a hut, having, probably poorly, set it up as an infirmary, with a handful of cots laid out, torn cloting strewn about for bandages, and wine found in the camp, for dulling the pain. He offers Farin a nod of the head to indicate he at least attempted to carry out the orders. Jan finds himself back next to Cleyton and nods with a grin. “It does, doesn’t it? You’ll have to tell me what happened - over wine, of course.”

His eyes catch Ammon as the Massey knight steps away from the fallen Urston. He limps over and says plainly, “Good to see you well on the other end of the battle, Ammon.” His look remains stern but the words he says are clearly true.

Ammon has reached his horse and is struggling to mount as Jan approaches. But mount he does, clumsily on his bruised knee, and sits firmly in the saddle before he responds. “And you, Jan,” he says, looking down at the man. But that is all, for Massey puts his spurs to the horse once more and moves off into the trees to find his squire.

“Fuck me, Warden, is that quite necessary?” Ser Dermett spits as Ser Farin’s men begin butchering the bandits for their crimes. “This is not my place to question you or your orders but that is not justice. I’ll have no part in this.” Kicking his horse into a gallop, Ser Dermett Corbray disappears amongst the trees.

“They elected to pay, Ser. Should I have spared them that? Will you ask the dead men behind us what that payment entails?” Farin quips, his fury still at a low simmer. “Does anyone /else/ have a problem with murderers, rapists, and theives, paying for their crimes?” he calls out, at large. Not a single one of the Kingswood Company answers in the negative, most too tired to answer at all, although there is an exhuasted “Hell no!” or two rising from the ranks.

Florian brow raises as he watches the scene unfold. “Things have taken an unexpected turn,” he mutters under his breath as he mounts his horse to make his way back to King’s Landing.

His pain dulled by the wine, Eon listens as the Warden and Dermett shoot barbs at each other. Too sore and tired to enter the fray, Eon instead turns his horse for home, where a maester could look at his bruises, to be followed by a full night of sleep.

Ser Urston nudges the body of a bandit aside, prying the blade from his grasp and smiling. “You shant be needing this anymore, buddy…” he murmurs aloud, flicking the blade back and forth through the air to test the weight before sheathing it. The Coldwater has, thus far, utterly ignored the punishments as they are handed out.

Jan watches as Ammon rides off and turns as Dermett and Farin start shouting at each other. He remains silent during the dispute, instead walking over to his horse and struggling mightily to get on his mount with the bum knee. He spurs it on lightly towards Farin and looks out over the wreckage. “They’re getting smarter, ser. They were prepared for this,” he observes aloud. “I’d say a new approach might be needed, but I’m not sure what, myself.” He strokes his beard with one hand and rubs the knee wound with the other.

Dermett rides off, and Farin simply slumps farther and sighs heavily, as Jan approaches. “They have always been keen of wit enough to pull this off, they merely lacked the power. We may have crippled their numbers, but they killed…how many knights? And wounded more? Those alive are reveling, to be sure. They care not for their allies,” he snorts, and turns to Urston. “Deputy,” he calls out. “See to the departure preparations. I want to be ready the moment we are fit enough to ride. We have a long trip, and are tired enough already.”

Urston nods groggily, glad Farin had made no comment of his less than steller appearance. “Allright, men!” he calls loudly, beckoning others forward and starting to relay orders. Tents dismantled to prevent the bandits from resettling, assets seized, arrangements to be made for the wounded and the sick… the Coldwater buries his men under a litany of commands.

Cleyton emerges from the infirmary hut with the gash in his side freshly bandaged. He witnesses the dispensing of justice with a sour expression, although he leaves any unease he may have unvoiced. He silently watches the exchange between Dermett and Farin before remounting his horse. He gives the camp a once-over and rides towards his cousin, although stopping a bit away to avoid interrupting any business Jan may have with Farin.

Jan nods ominously at Farin’s words. “Their time will come, ser,” he murmurs. Another jolt of pain shoots up his leg and he reaches down to tighten the bandage around his knee. He circles his horse and starts to help with the departure. Spotting Cleyton, he nods and smiles. “Well-fought yet again, coz. You look to be patched up alright, for now?”

Farin nods, and detaches himself from Jan’s side to make another sweep of the camp, before calling the men to ride out and back home.

Cleyton nods to Jan. “He got under my shield. The edge of my breastplate took some of the force, otherwise it may have been much worse. I came out better than many on our side. We took a beating here. Perhaps next time we should ambush them. Well let’s go get that leg of yours looked at.”