Riverlands: Red Fork Road
The Red Fork Road is well-trod dirt, scattered with small stones, the river itself not far away. Trees dot the path offering shade, and bees buzz through the flowers and trees in their fruiting or flowering season. Green swards stretch out to hills, a pair of which are visible in the northeast rising proudly from the rolling Riverlands. There is a slightly shallower stretch of river here, allowing for riders to urge their horses into the waters and ford the crossing.
“Blackwood! Blackwood!”
That battle-cry rises above the thunder of hooves; heard so often these past few days, and followed always by blood and death. Naked steel catches fire in the noon sun as blades are drawn and axes hefted. The Blackwood kinsman leading the charge nearly outpaces the others in his eagerness to come to grips with the hated Brackens—but a fearsome figure in black armour keeps pace with him, serpent-helmed and cold-eyed.
The Iron Serpent is there, tireless; riding from the battle the night before into another one.
Closer and closer, and the two groups are almost at each other now.
Elmer is riding hard, though showing the effects of the beating he took the day before, the tall knight on his grey gelding and in his usual battered war armor, not the splendid one he won in a tourney. He is leading a small contingent of Lannister men, their crimson cloaks visible in the daylight. He salutes the Iron Serpent along whom he fought so bravely against the Tailcutter.
When he sights the approaching horde, Bloody Brus raises the stump end of a burnt-out torch he is still carrying and hurls it almost gleefully toward the Blackwood advance. “It’s a fight at last, lads!” he cries, wheeling his horse in their direction and drawing his sword. He exchanges a look with Othan that is full of many unspoken things, then peels off to the right with half their force behind him, though neither man has said anything.
But the Bracken band does not divide neatly down the centre. No, it only grows wings, as if it intends to enclose the Blackwoods within them and crush them like a walnut in a blacksmith’s vise.
Riding with a force detached from the Riverlands’ van, Brynden Tully is armed for war - his brigandine reenforced with plates here and there, sword and daggers and lance. His horse is in barding-harness too, Tully red and blue and silver.
“These fools. Winter is coming and they burn each other’s grainaries and ruin the harvests. If they don’t kill each other they’ll starve when it turns cold.” he grumbles to those around him. “But this should be over soon.” Then his proverbial ears perk up. “Did you hear something? What was that?”
1140 Erena Mallister
There came the horns—here comes that eastern charge. Othan Blackmane, at the helm of the Bracken host, pulls at the reins of his warhorse to angle his gaze towards Bloody Brus. What passes between them lasts for one silent second before Blackmane snaps his visor down, spurring his mount in an opposite sweep.
“They’re hungry for another taste of our steel,” the man growls through the clench of his helms’s grate.
“They’ll not starve today—” Dented, scuffed armor still glints in the afternoon light. Blackmane pulls his sword from its sheath, signals to the men under his command, and with another dig of his heels into his horse’s side—
He leads the fanning of his Bracken warriors in an arc parallel to Brus’s, roaring for revenge!
The time has come that those who had remained behind in Riverrun have been called on to act. At the behest of Lord Jonothor Arryn, numerous Valemen are counted among those in the Tully forces. Janden Melcolm rides with one of those forward groups, complete in full armor. The courser he controls is also guarded in all necessary ways, though the colors are only marginally indicative of House Melcolm.
The Royal Huntsman shakes his head at Brynden’s words. “The whole thing is crazy. They seem to care more about a longstanding feud than their own situations. What good does it do if they run out of supplies in the end? Do they turn to other houses and attack them for what they need?” He slows to listen at Brynden’s question. “Horns, I think? What say you, ser?” Here he looks to another of the Valemen with them.
But the Blackwoods charge doesn’t even slow at the Brackens’ manouever—for one of the men in the van has forged his reputation as a battle captain in the fires of Dorne’s deserts, and at the Iron Serpent’s command now, some of the riders fall back, until the Blackwood company has formed a wedge. They don’t intend to match the Bracken crescent—they mean to shatter it in half, it seems.
At the point of that steel wedge is Dagur, and he and the Blackwood lead that wedge straight at Bloody Brus.
The moment before the two forces clash seems to slow—then speeds up again with a great clashing of steel and horseflesh, and the screams of men. In the midst of it all, the ironman bulls his way right for Brus, until he draws close enough to cut at his helm.
Dagur attacks Brus with his sword…
...and strikes him with a shattering blow!
Ryckon is also battered from the previous night, as can be seen in his dented, seashell decorated armor, but fortunately the head wounds he received were more superficial than they appeared, and so he can ride today. And ride he does, atop his black destrier, joining Brus’ wing as he rides at the Iron Srpent but searching for another opponent for now.
Brus is not the sort of man to sit tight and take a blow to the head, no matter how skillfully dealt. He ducks to his right, taking the Iron Serpent’s blade on his pauldron. He roars and the plating dents painfully—he won’t be raising his shield very high again today. But for now, the pain serves to spur his rage and he wheels so hard his mount screams, in the obvious hope that that Dagur will prove slower and he can bury his sword between the ironman’s shoulder blades.
True to his own word and the advice of Lord Arryn another knight of the Vale has joined the forces of House Tully. Ser Astos Corbray rides on his dark brown courser, wearing a plain armour consisting of a breast plate and a chain mail. Hanging down by his side is his old friend, the sword, safely secured in its leather scabbard - at least for now.
They had been riding peacefully, almost enjoying the pleasant afternoon ride when a racket somewhere in the distance caught their attention. Pulling the reins of his horse Astos glances over to Ser Brynden and is about to answer his question when the Royal Huntsman is quicker with his reply. Nodding to Janden’s assumption he replies: “Aye, tis the sound of horns.” and scratches his well-groomed beard, the calm of his voice contradicting the alert expression in his grey-blue eyes.
Brus attacks Dagur with his sword…
...and strikes him with a shattering blow!
Elmer sees Brus forces open and Dagur crashing into their ranks. And then he spies a familiar crest, the young man who unhorsed him last night while he was fighting the Tailcutter. “To me, Ser!” He challenges the Westerling, after all, Elmer is leading the Lannister guards, any Westerman might know that color, as his sword flies in a cut to the younger man’s shoulder
Elmer attacks Ryckon with his sword…
...and strikes him with a hard blow!
And the ironman is indeed slower, hampered by another Bracken knight who barges into his mount before veering away to face his own Blackwood foe again. Dagur raises his shield—but Bloody Brus’ blade skims over it and hammers into his shoulder, turning him near sideways in the saddle with a hollow cough of pain.
But there is no time in the heart of battle to surrender to that pain; even as he rights himself, he is shifting his weight to one side as if to attack from there—then back to the other, cat-quick, and cutting at Brus from that direction instead.
Dagur attacks Brus with his sword…
...and strikes him with a swift blow!
Ryckon has only begun to approach Elmer after his challenge when the sword strikes, and he frowns. “That is hardly giving me a choice, ser. But I accept.” The frown turns into a grin, and he swings his steel mace back at the Crakehall, aiming it at his sword arm.
Ryckon attacks Elmer with his mass weapon…
...and misses by a narrow margin!
Elmer ‘s laughter booms from behind the his visor. “This is battle, not choice, lad!” he says, he’s in good spirits and apparently not that incensed against Ryckon. He makes his horse dance back and avoids that mace. “Not bad..” he crias before attacking again, a hard blow at the young knight’s arm
Elmer attacks Ryckon with his sword…
...and strikes him with a powerful blow!
There is little time to adjust such a rush of hooves and swords as the Iron Serpent anticipates their plan, adjusts accordingly—but even so, Blackmane’s men crash abreast of that moving company. The ringing clash of sword meeting sword fills the air; shouts, screams, howls of rage accompany that flail of men in that fierce lock.
Othan sets his weight to slightly to one side of his saddle, sweeping his blade low to slice out at the legs of a passing Blackwood and his mount. It connects with sharp precision; the destrier buckles, turns, and thus pins the knight to the ground as it kicks and screams.
It serves to stop the rush of another enemy knight; he, then, tangles blades with Blackmane.
“Indeed,” is the simple reply from the Melcolm knight to the words from both Brynden and Astos. “And watch for each other. No telling what we’re about to ride into the middle of.” No killing unless necessary, but as with all battles it’s impossible to know what a man will be pushed into if it gets bad enough. Janden puts heels to his destrier, charging forward in tandem with the vanguard tasked with putting an end to this skirmish, sword readied.
Other men may banter, but Bloody Brus did not earn his appellation by conversing with his opponents. He evades the Iron Serpent’s return blow easily enough so that it skitters down his shield arm, which he cannot raise out of the way, but does no real damage. He roars nonetheless, in rage more than pain, and this time he takes his time turning. Now, when he attacks Dagur again, he does it with great deliberation, almost as if they were jousting, riding hard at the other man with his sword raised and aimed in a great sweeping arc at his neck.
Brus attacks Dagur with his sword…
...and strikes him with a hard blow!
Ryckon misses even as he continues getting hit, and his frown returns. “Then do not say, ‘To me’, just attack me. I know what battle is, ser.” In an attempt to emphasize this point he rides at Elmer once more, trying to propel his mace into the Crakehall’s chest.
Ryckon attacks Elmer with his mass weapon…
...and strikes him with a powerful blow!
Elmer takes that blow and laughs. “Do not question me pup! I’ve been fighting battles when you were playing with toys!” he chuckles again, Ryckon migyt be heavier but ELmer is much taller and uses his longer reach to keep away and strike fast , forcing Ryckon to come against him
Elmer attacks Ryckon with his sword…
...and strikes him with a swift blow!
And Bloody Brus’ strikes true—almost. For if that blow had landed as it had been meant to, it would have crushed gorget, neck and all. But instead, Dagur sways away from it—he has raised his shield to ward off a blade that comes at him from nowhere out of that wild melee—and takes the blow, on the other shoulder again.
It rocks him again, but this time there is not even a heartbeat’s pause, he is cutting backhanded at Brus’ extended sword-arm with his next breath.
Dagur attacks Brus with his sword…
...with no result as the two warriors battle!
The warhorse under Tomas Rivers matches pace with that of his nephew and the others around them. The bastard is quiet with his own preparations, though a nod indicates he has heard the words of his companions. The expression on his face fierce, he frees his sword and with a subtle adjustment in his shoulders readies himself for the coming clash as they draw nearer to the harsh song of blades and armor clanging.
“Carrion birds…” Astos chuckles. “We will scatter them, Ser Brynden. We will pick out their eyes if it needs to be done - with a raven’s beak.” A rather cryptic remark maybe, but possibly hinting at the birds in the Corbray sigil. And then Astos urges his horse on to catch up with Ser Janden and the others, drawing his sword with a loud cry. “Corbray!”.
His momentum carries Brus safely out of reach of Dagur’s sword and he laughs as he goes. “Prester was right! The Tyrell wench has made the Iron Serpent soft!” The blow he aims at Dagur has more brutality than grace in it, and he is seeking to maim, to draw blood—to knock the man off his horse and out of the way.
Brus attacks Dagur with his sword…
...and has his blow intercepted by Dagur’s shield.
Ryckon does ride at Elmer, and because of this Elmer’s sword grazes by quickly instead of doing much damage. “This is how you address a knight, ser? The only toys I ever played with were swords and maces.” As he reaches Elmer, he swings for his stomach.
Ryckon attacks Elmer with his mass weapon…
...and strikes him with a hard blow!
But this time, the Iron Serpent has no other foe to contend with. He hammers Brus’ blade away with his shield, driving it wide—and for the first time he speaks, the harh, cold cadences of the islands echoing from within that fearsome helm, “Prester fell. So will you.”
And he rises in his stirrups, hacking down at Brus’ helm with a great overhand blow.
Dagur attacks Brus with his sword…
...and strikes him with a shattering blow!
Brus is driven from the saddle!
Elmer looks at te field and as new forces come into view, he needs to hurry this up. His battle cry resounds loudly. “Raventree and the Rock!” he shoults and attacks Ryckon again, laying all his wight behind the sword
Elmer attacks Ryckon with his sword…
...and strikes him with a shattering blow!
The sounds of battle are clear now, the riders are going in the right direction. They crest a low hill and the battle is laid out before them. “They are are, sers. Let us show them the cost of rebellion, to be laid low in the mud.” Brynden says, then sets his mount in motion. “For the Riverlands!” he calls, flicking his visor down as horse and rider charge the melee.
Mercy on the battlefield—some kind Bracken knight in the wake of Blackmane’s charge puts a sword through that fallen horse’s neck. The Blackwood knight beneath receives no such kindness; that same sword pulls out of the beast and skewers the man’s shoulder. Before a killing blow strikes, the unknown Bracken is set upon by a likewise anonymous Blackwood leal man.
Othan, a matter of paces away, dispenses with his opponent after a simple exchange of blows leaves him the winner—the other man crumpling from his horse with a wildly swung arm loosing his sword into the short distance.
Blackmane turns, flipping open his visor to gauge the field—and sees another force moving into their midst.
Ryckon follows Elmer’s gaze to the Tullys entering the battlefield, and because of this he is distracted and hit. He answers Elmer’s cry with one of his own. “Stone Hedge and the Crag!” Again he swings for Elmer’s chest, the impact (if there is one) coinciding with the end of his exclamation.
Ryckon attacks Elmer with his mass weapon…
...and has his blow intercepted by Elmer’s shield.
Elmer curses as it seems the boy has very good stamina and he cries. “Come meet me Westerling and you’ll have a job in the Guard! you fight well!” he shouts and after catching that mace on his shield he slashes at the younger knight’s chest
Elmer attacks Ryckon with his sword…
...with no result as the two warriors battle!
Sounds and sights both, Janden can tell, as the Tully contingent comes upon the battlefield as it stands. “I don’t know about the eyes, but as you say,” he comments to Astos, visor set in place as he follows Brynden’s lead. No charge or shout issues forth for him, but the Melcolm knight, eyes scan the field in search of someone to drive back, riding closer.
Bloody Brus’s helm rings like a bell from Dagur’s blow, and he flies very neatly out of his saddle. He lands hard with a clang of protesting armor on the ground, and lies there a long moment, dazed. Indeed, he lies there long enough that an enterprising Blackwood dismounts and is headed toward him, already asking if he yields—and an equally enterprising Bracken yanks Brus to his feet with a great grunt of effort before the Blackwood can take him. Together, the men stagger out of the main melee to a copse of trees, where Brus can regain his footing, his kinsman standing guard over him.
The momentum of the Blackwood charge has done the trick. That wedge has hammered through Bloody Brus’ wing, and even more swiftly now that the Iron Serpent has felled Brus himself. But the Blackwoods have slowed now, mired in the melee and with Blackmane leading his men to strike them in the flank; the risky part of the Blackwood gamble.
And matters become even more fraught when the Blackwood leading the company roars a warning, pointing with a bloody blade at the Tully force cresting the hill.
With a foul oath, the Iron Serpent spurs on, calling above the din of battle, “To me! Blackwood, to me!”
And those who have broken through the Brackens form up on him as he comes around and plunges back through that gap—this time riding straight for Blackmane, his sword dripping a bloody promise.
When they reach the hill’s crest Astos stares at the fighting Blackwoods and Brackens for the fraction of a second before he lowers his visor as well, following Ser Brynden and the Royal Huntsman to ride down into the chaos in the hope of forcing the opposing sides apart. And although he knows it will be to no avail he yells: “Stop this madness, by the Seven! Or we will make you stop!” and swings his sword in a very menacing gesture.
Ryckon ducks to the side and out of the way of Elmer’s sword. He raises an eyebrow under the visor of his helm. “The offer is appreciated, but I already have a job reserved.” And so if they will not be co-workers, Ryckon is free to attack the Crakehall once again, and he does so with gusto, swinging for his shoulder and utterly ignoring Astos’ plea for peace.
Ryckon attacks Elmer with his mass weapon…
...and strikes him with a shattering blow!
Elmer is rocked back in the saddle by Ryckon’s blow, but manages to keep his seat!
Elmer cureses even luder as the boy escapes his blow and he is too much into the battle lust to avail humself of any offer of peace. he raws his sword back and tries to ring Ryckon’s helmet with it, is the boy really as thickheaded as he sounds?
Elmer attacks Ryckon with his sword…
...and strikes him with a swift blow!
Ryckon is driven from the saddle!
Even as the Iron Serpent swings around to bear down on Blackmane and his men with that red gift, his men ripe for the fight, Othan is shouting his own orders to the host in his keep.
“Fall in, men! Ready yourselves!”
For that Tully contingent, no doubt—but they gather all the same, as one, now two knights alerting their commander to the shift in the Bracken force.
Othan turns his helmed head, then, and surely smiles beneath. “Aye, then—” The gauntleted fist around the hilt of that ready blade tightens, while the other hand, shield in place, jerks the reins of his mount with purposeful redirection.
While not especially powerful, Elmer’s blow is enough to disorient Ryckon so that he loses his balance and falls out of the saddle. Cursing more quietly than Elmer, he hits the ground and grabs his horse, finding a calm spot where he can remount, which he does so as quickly, if not as elegantly, as possible.
Brynden’s shout is echoed by his uncle, the Rivers knight taking one final breath as the cry ends before he drops his own visor- and charges.
The flat of his blade to a cheaply made helm sends one man-at-arms flying- which side does not matter. “Back to your keeps! Back!” The warhorse under Tomas gains momentum as he drives through the gap in the forces…. and is faced with the Iron Serpent as the ironborn rushes to meet Blackmane.
“SALTCLIFFE! BLACKMANE! STOP THIS!” The near growl in his voice says he knows it is a futile call- but one he must make, all the same.
The Tullys have been glimpsed, their presence measured, tallied and marked down; the Iron Serpent wastes no time now on gauging their intentions. Instead, he leads that charge at the heart of Blackmane’s wing; at Blackmane himself. As his men crash into the Brackens, he calls, “Through them! Through them and we ride north!”
And then he is spurring at Othan and past him, hacking backhanded at his chest as he does so.
The Tullys have been glimpsed, their presence measured, tallied and marked down; the Iron Serpent wastes no time now on gauging their intentions. And when Tomas bellows at him, he slows not even a whit; instead, he leads that charge at the heart of Blackmane’s wing, at Blackmane himself. As his men crash into the Brackens, he calls, “Through them! Through them and we ride north!”
Dagur attacks Othan with his sword…
...and strikes him with a shattering blow!
Brynden’s horse is a blur of hed and blue as it bears its rider towards the rallying Blackwoods charging for the strength of the Brackens. “The time for words is at an end!” he bellows in response to Astos entreaty. “Let us down the Warden first - he is the most dangerous opponent, but sweep them all aside.” There are men about the Iron Serpent, but the Ironborn is his target if that chance presents itself.
Following up with the others to create a wedge of their own meant to be driven between the Bracken and Blackwood forces, Janden turns his attention toward the knight that has just knocked Ryckon Westerling down. “Crakehall! By command of the Tullys, I order you to stand down! Ignore this and I will disarm you myself!” The sword point is directed in Elmer’s direction, ready to use if it gets to it.
Perhaps that call to ride north, just barely carried by the wind through the clamor of battle and the buffer of metal helm, catches Othan off guard. He’s ready for the Saltcliffe’s direct attack—but then the man rides past him, swinging that vicious blow a second later than Blackmane anticipates.
The horse beneath the man is smarter in that moment, as Othan absorbs the force of that strike across his breastplate; the destrier dances aside, giving the man just enough time to weather the strike with a pained grunt, then gather all the strength of his fighting arm to swing around a decisive chop down towards the Iron Serpent’s shoulder.
Othan attacks Dagur with his sword…
...with no result as the two warriors battle!
Elmer shakes his head as he hears Janden. “I obey the Dragons and the Lions….no fish can order me about!” he replies to Janden and as he is challenged he rides hard towards Janden, laughing. “Come and disarm me then!” But he does not attack Melcolm instead verring off and weaving through the ranks of battle to land at Othan’s flank in Dagur’s support
Elmer attacks Othan with his sword…
...with no result as the two warriors battle!
Once he is mounted securely, Ryckon readies his mace, and, still scowling beneath his helm, rides after none other than the Crakehall knight who just unhorsed him, once again shouting, “Stone Hedge and the Crag!” as he brings his mace into the Crakehall’s shoulder to prevent him from helping the Iron Serpent.
Ryckon attacks Elmer with his mass weapon…
...and strikes him with a hard blow!
Elmer is driven from the saddle!
Brus has reclaimed his equilibrium and his mount both, and is standing with one foot in the stirrup when he hears the roar of command from Rivers. “Fucking Tullys are here,” he growls to his kinsman, heaving himself gracelessly into the saddle.
Once he has his seat, he wheels to face the melee. “BRACKEN! TO ME!” he roars, then raises his hunting horn to his lips to wind it twice in short blasts.
But the Iron Serpent is sawing at his horse’s reins even as he plunges past Blackmane, making it all but rear on its hind legs. So sharply does he bring it about that Othan’s blow hisses past him, finding nothing past him.
And there is a moment’s hesitation—a heartbeat, no more—as that serpent helm turns and he looks through the whirling melee around him to see Brynden Tully approaching and others with him.
Then he has turned his cold, calculated attention back to Othan even as Elmer is felled nearby; this time, it’s at his helm he cuts.
Dagur attacks Othan with his sword…
...and strikes him with a shattering blow!
Othan is driven from the saddle!
Theonald is dressed in a long mail coat that covers most of his body, his head is covered by a conical helmet. His sword is drawn, shield is high and there is a fierce look on his face. “We fight not for the House Tully, but for the justice and peace!” The Northman shouts, before riding closer to where the skirmish is more intense.
The Bastard of Riverrun shakes his helm just slightly as the Iron Serpent ignores him. His nephew shoots past him, charging for the man- and Tomas takes the other point of the spear, driving for Blackmane in an effort to open the gap between the Bracken and Dagur as the Bracken is knocked down. “Othan! YIELD!” he calls, trying to drive his steed between the two to prevent Dagur from killing the unhorsed man.
“This is not your fight, Saltcliffe! Go back to your wife!” There is no malice there, but Tomas has planted himself firmly- if Dagur means to press Othan, he will have to go through the Rivers knight.
After Othan is unhorsed, and before their mutual enemies the Tullys arrive to bring peace, Ryckon is left alone to face the Iron Serpent, who unhorsed him in the previous battle. Of course, one of the Tullys arrives just then, and so Ryckon rides around Tomas to attempt to attack Dagur from behind.
Jostyn’s steed accelerates, towards the battle. His sword is in one hand, his other hand is firmly situated on the reins. He is dressed in full battle armor. He screams,” House Grell, House Tully.” In a loud brash tone, he then moves nearer towards the skirmish.
Ryckon attacks Dagur with his mass weapon…
...with no result as the two warriors battle!
Elmer falls down as again he is hit from behind by Ryckon, and he gets up after a roll. “Boy! You’re spoiling for a fight?” he asks, he’s always been calm but twice now the younger knight has attacked him while he was engaging someone else. He has a squire bring him his large horse and he mounts up taking a breath. He salutes Janden with his raised sword, he respects the other man and they’ve fought together and against each other too many times not to be at least courteous. But Ryckon should be wary, ELmer knows hiw to bear a grudge. He rides at Dagur’s side, watching the Tullys encircle them. “What do we do, Saltcliffe?”
With dark brown eyes, sandy blonde hair, and a face that is slightly freckled, it is no doubt that this youth has a bit of the blood of the Andals coursing through his veins. A Dornishman more on the “stony” side, he stands tall with broad shoulders. His hands’ nails are well manicured, but are rough and calloused. For the most
“You forget yourself, ser! So long as you are on Tully lands you are also subject to their rules! This battle must end for peace to be returned!” Janden calls, spurring his destrier forward again as Elmer takes off to engage others, only to see Ryckon beat him to the attack before moving for the Iron Serpent himself. When it appears more of the Tully forces are closing in around the Bracken and Blackwood forces, Melcolm holds his attack. “I want no further blood shed here, but know I will fight to take down any man who forces my hand! Yield!”
That attempt to strike from the Crakehall knight makes no impact, and receives little of Blackmane’s attention to begin with—Saltcliffe is his intended enemy. For good reason, too, even as once again Othan is a moment too slow to stop the Iron Serpent’s blade.
That edge connects with a muted clang of blade against now-dented helm. Only the quickest of corrections, turning Othan’s head just so, gives over a less than fatal target for the man’s strike. It proves critical nonetheless, sending Blackmane from his saddle with a strangled oath.
That beast of his examples the expert training of a worthy warhorse, again, as it rears and kicks to keep further attack clear of its master. As the Bastard of Riverrun inserts his presence between the Bracken and Saltcliffe men, others on the side of Blackmane’s cause near to help the man recover.
Brynden is strangely silent as the Riverlander wedge strikes the assembled rebel bannermen, he does not call for their surrender or to flee… perhaps he thinks they know already what to do? Closing with Dagur and Blackmane, Brynden aims a blow at Dagur’s swordarm shoulder, hoping to knock him from his seat (or at least slow that blade down).
Brynden attacks Dagur with his sword…
...and merely strikes a glancing blow!
After he unhorses Elmer, Ryckon looks around for someone to attack, but before he can put his gilded spurs to his horse he notices that the Tullys are beginning to circle around shouting something or other about peace while attacking those who break it, and so there is no safe way for him to attack anyone just yet. Still glancing around carefully, he attacks no one just yet.
Jostyn comes to a grinding halt, as he stops at Ser Janden’s side. ” What is this? Why are our swords not at each others throats?” His eyes glimmer with battlelust.
Down goes Blackmane as well, and with their captain’s fall, the Blackwoods begin to punch through the Brackens. The gamble has worked; that wedge has broken both Bracken wings.
And as for the Iron Serpent himself, he shows no intention of stopping and slaying the fallen Othan—and only a little more to Brynden’s attack, merely swaying away from it with a warrior’s instinct, letting it scrape off his pauldron. But he doesn’t retaliate, and he does not attack Tomas Rivers either.
Black armour dented, blade dripping blood, the dreaded ironborn knight draws rein, dark eyes glinting behind the twin fangs across his face as he stares at the Bastard of Riverrun: “I fear it is, ser. And if you mean to put an end to this, you had best curb Lord Bracken and do it swiftly.”
And with that and a succinct, “We ride,” to Elmer, he angles his horse away—away from the Tullys, towards the gap that remains, repeating it to the Blackwoods in a voice trained to battlefield command, “We ride!”
And as for the Iron Serpent himself, he pays no more attention to the fallen Othan—and only a little more to Brynden’s attack, merely swaying away from it with a warrior’s instinct, letting it scrape off his pauldron. But he doesn’t retaliate, and he does not attack Tomas Rivers either.
Elmer nods curtly, the big crimson cloaked knight promising revenge to Ryckon Westerling with a glance but then he rides a couple of strides to Dagur’s sleft, shielding the iron Serpent who is the point of the wedge.
“Because we aren’t here to kill unless our hand is forced. We come to fight for peace, not to slaughter,” Janden reminds Jostyn, a quick glance made that way before he takes in the sight of Ryckon. “Where’s your knight, Ryckon?” Then a closer look reveals the deeper truth. “You earned your spurs, did you not? I give you my congratulations, but extend the same warning to you as the others. I will fight to stop your part in this if I must, ser. What do you say?” He moves his mount to better position himself with the rest, sword remaining a threat. An eye is kept on the movements of Dagur Saltcliffe in particular.
There are urgent voices speaking above Othan, beyond him, and then also directly to him. Only these last make any headway through the fully shaken knight. “Blackwood rides—” a man is shouting to him, “Blackwood rides—and Bloody Brus calls for us to join him!”
Another knight, more enterprising in his efforts to raise Blackmane quickly to his feet, shouts, “The Tullys are among us, calling for peace—”
“Fuck that,” Othan finally manages, the notion itself propelling him into the saddle through sheer force of will. “We ride to Brus—MEN,” he shouts as he wheels away from Brynden and the Bastard of Riverrun, “MEN! TO BRUS!”
Brus is still winding his horn and shouting, “To me! To me!” as the Brackens slowly disengage from the Blackwoods and withdraw before Brynden Tully or the Bastard of Riverrun can get them in their sights. But there are a handful on the ground, wounded and still under the point of a Tully blade. Here and there swords fall as the knight holding it yields to their liege’s bannermen—and they are captive.
While Brus is not unaware of this, his concern lies in gathering what men he can. To this end, he lowers the horn and roars with all his breath and voice: “BLACKMANE!” And he waves his horn so it catches the light to beckon the man to freedom.
Jostyn nods at the Melcolm’s words. But still raises his sword, just waiting for the order to attack. His steed is panting, and he is sweating.
Theonald eyes glances Dagur and the other Blackwood men, “I promise you, milady.” He closes his eyes for a quick moment and says in a very low tone, audible only for those who are nearby to him. The Northmen turns his horse to see the Brackens trying to do the same that the Raventree men, “Do not let them escape! We cannot allow this bloody sport to continue, yield!” He shouts, riding towards Brus men.
Ryckon nods to Janden, missing Elmer’s sinister look. “Indeed, ser, thank you.” The retreat is called and the other Brackens begin to leave, and Ryckon turns toward them, clearly intending to join them. “If that is the decree then so be it, but in that case I must ride back to tell the others of it.” He shoots Theonald a glare as he rides after the Brackens. “Stop him, will you? Or send him at the Iron Serpent, at least.”
And so the Blackwoods pull free. Those who had joined the Iron Serpent in the charge on Blackmane have fallen in around him, and the rest—those were extricating themselves from the melee with Bloody Brus’ men—spur to join them, led by the Blackwood kinsman. The company rides at a gallop, putting distance between them before the Tullys can make a more forceful attempt to get them to yield.
And they ride grim-faced. For although they have bested the Brackens this day, the Tullys have finally shown their hand—and the next time they meet, men may have to make a choice between ties of blood and loyalty to the Lady of Riverrun.
Brynden wheels his mount as the Iron Serpent doesn’t engage him. “Yield!” he calls finally. “You will yield now or you will yield later! Choose now so less blood will be spilled.” He stands his his stirrups to look at the Riverlander forces. “Spare the wounded, they can be Riverrun’s guests!”
“Widen the gap!” Tomas makes no direct response to the Saltcliffe’s request for to have Lord Bracken curbed- but then again, those are not his decisions to make. He signals for those men under him to broaden to pool of Tully control, expanding their domain over the injured and surrendered- easily enough done when the main of each side is already in retreat. “Eyes on those still conscious! Round up what others you can!”
The Rivers knight grumbles as he raises his visor to look after both parties with a grim expression. He may not have had to bloody his sword today, but next time splitting the feuding houses may not go so easily.
“I am Dagur Saltcliffe.”
That serpent helm has finally turned to Brynden. And there is a smile in his voice even if none can be seen in the helm’s shadow—a grim one with nothing of amusement in it: “I do not yield, ser.”
He spurs—and so the Blackwoods pull free. Those who had joined the Iron Serpent in the charge on Blackmane have fallen in around him, and the rest—those were extricating themselves from the melee with Bloody Brus’ men—spur to join them, led by the Blackwood kinsman. The company rides at a gallop, putting distance between them before the Tullys can make a more forceful attempt to get them to yield.
And they ride grim-faced. For although they have bested the Brackens this day, the Tullys have finally shown their hand—and the next time they meet, men may have to make a choice between ties of blood and loyalty to the Lady of Riverrun.
“He is not mine to command,” Janden says to Ryckon with a hint of a smile, visor flipped up. It appears the retreat of both Bracken and Blackwood sides will not be contested by the majority of the Tully side; it’s no secret where the feuding houses reside. “Ride and tell them, ser,” he adds to Ryckon with a nod. “We are here to foster peace rather than promote further bloodshed, but we will not stand down if pressed. Tell it to whoever needs it and let all decide what they’ll do from there.” He moves to join the rest in gathering the ones injured, seeing to hurts, ensuring they won’t be making off or fighting back unexpectedly.
Blackmane’s call gathers most men still astride, or regathering their wits to be so—and if they surrender some to Tully swordpoints, it is at least not the Blackwoods who will gain a ransom.
Armor flashing, hooves thundering, Othan and what remains of his wing of the Bracken force churn the field in their aim for Brus on its other side—the glinting beacon of that horn showing them the way.
With no choice but to allow those still on the field to be taken captive, Brus wheels his horse to meet Othan and join him. “We ride!” he shouts and the thunder of hooves sounds as all who still can ride away, Blackmane and Bloody Brus at their head. And if a few look back to their fallen companions, none remain to claim them. On they ride away from the men sent by their liege lady.
Elmer laughs aloud, holding to Dagur’s flank, his crimson cloak marking him on the field, sword still drawn, He looks towards the Tullys challengingly as he rides away, will they follow and try to do battle or will they be content at having separated the forces that had been engaged earlier?’
Ryckon sighs. “Gods be good, why would you waste time asking him to yield that you could spend making him yield? You promote further bloodshed by letting him escape. I would gladly ride after him, but then you would think that I was disrupting the peace of the Riverlands as well, as opposed to preserving it.” He shrugs, and turns away to ride with the Brackens as they retreat.
Jostyn sighs, he sounds disappointed.” Im sure Lady Tinessa will be pleased by this outcome.” He mumbles,looking after the evading troops.
“You will, one way or another.” Brynden says to Dagur’s back as the Warden rides away. That settled, he moves through the gathering of prisoners by the Riverlander forces. “We have preserved our strength, such as it is, and weakened both sides today. The decisive stroke will come to each in time. If we chase one force, the other will strike us in the back. Why would they not? Why not weaken us when they know what is coming. No… this is better.” He lifts his visor and smiles grimly. “There will be blood enough for all. More than we can stomach.”
With the flight of both sides, Tomas’s eyes narrow. “Those badly injured shall go to Riverrun! If we have any hostages of merit, bring those as well!” He looks over the Tully forces as the injured are given what aid they can offer on the field and names are taken, with a agreeing nod to Brynden’s assessment of the day.
And then he looks up to survey the retreat, and spies colors that were previously in the Tully vanguard making an attempt to chase down the Bracken line.
“What is that northern idiot doing? No one follow him! We have not the men to spare for these foolish heroics.”
Theonald ignores the other comments, pulling the reins of his destrier and making the horse run as fast as it can. There is much of northern blood on him, as he tries to prove himself as fierce and dutiful as the Northmen are known. “I’ve thought better of the Westerlings, there is only one honorable of your kin, and it is Ser Humfrey.” Says the young knight before attacking Ryckon with his longsword.
Theonald attacks Ryckon with his sword…
...with no result as the two warriors battle!
Jostyn eyes the northern gone rogue, and curses silently. ” What is the fool doing?”
With the combatants dispersing, Ryckon had been expecting a leisurely ride, and so it comes as a surprise when Theonald attacks him. Not so much of a surprise that he can’t dodge the Locke’s sword, though. He scowls. “First of all, you ride for the Tullys and you call /Humfrey/ honorable?” He swings out at Theonald’s chest with his mace. “And second, what the fuck are you doing?”
Ryckon attacks Theonald with his mass weapon…
...and strikes him with a hard blow!
Janden’s reaction is not unlike Ryckon’s, even if the two are somewhat out of range for the moment. “...the fuck is he playing at?” he wonders when his attention is drawn that way by the words of Tomas Rivers. Having already dismounted, he makes no move to get back into the saddle as he scowls. “Westerling was to carry the message back to the rest. Locke is on his own with this one.” (repose for Jyana)
“I ride for the justice and peace, not for the Tullys.” Says Theonald, recovering from the blow “I do not wish to see my aunt as a widow, no more blood should be spilled. Yield and stop with this madness.” The knight speaks while lifts his sword trying to attack the left arm of the Westerling.
Theonald attacks Ryckon with his sword…
...and merely strikes a glancing blow!
” Oh fuck.” That is all Ser Jostyn Grell says, before riding towards the Northerner and the Westerling. The brute of a man towers over both of them,” You idiot ride home.” He spits at the Northerner,” And you have a message to deliver Westerling.” His tone is unpleasant to the both of them, his sword is in his free hand, ready to combat any resistance that arises.
Brynden looks to the sudden skirmish. “If they turn to give battle, then by all means let us meet them. Does anyone else want that Westerling? I would say let him go, but I will not let that northman be taken prisoner, though.” He leads his horse through the men a bit more towards the struggle, detailing five mounted men he finds. “You….” but then the Grell knight is headed in that direction. “... eh, if Ser Jostyn or Ser Theonald fall, bring them back.” That done, he turns back the other direction, back towards Ser Tomas and the other force riding away. “What do you say, ser? Scouts… ride after the Blackwoods and see that they are riding off and not rallying for another go. Shadow the Brackens too, why don’t we? Keep your distance.”
Ryckon is struck, but just barely, and not on the arm that carries his weapon. “If you rode for justice you would be riding for Hoster Bracken, so you must be riding for the Blackwoods. And if you had half a brain you would realize that Humfrey is a stain on my family’s honor and not the other way around.” He nods to acknowledge Jostyn even as he swings at Theonald again. “Indeed, go home.”
Ryckon attacks Theonald with his mass weapon…
...and strikes him with a shattering blow!
Theonald is driven from the saddle!
Dagur: Engaged by Ryckon and Brynden
Brynden: On the offensive
Jostyn’s face turns red, enraged by his comrades downfall. ” You will pay for that Squire.” He swings his sword towards the new Knight’s upper body.
Jostyn attacks Ryckon with his sword…
...and strikes him with a shattering blow!
An exasperated sigh rumbles out of Tomas as he watches another of his men ride out to intercede between Northman and Westerling. “What did I just fucking say,” he grumbles as he watches the Locke fall.
Returning his now even more irritated gaze to Brynden, he ponders a moment before he nods. “Aye, small groups. Shadows only, we don’t have the men to be getting in any more….” he glances toward the little skirmish… “incidents. And I don’t want any of ours caught for ransom. They must be silent and unseen.”
Elmer stops some while away and shakes his head as he watches the odd skirmish. “Has someone there lost their mind?” he asks Dagur rather incredulously.
“Fucking fools,” is all Janden can muster before he squints on ahead to see Jostyn riding into the mix as Theonald is dealt with swiftly by Ryckon. “Do they not understand how to listen to orders?” Cupping a hand to his mouth, he bellows in the direction of the ones continuing to fight, “Get the fuck back here! Do you hear me?”
Ryckon prepares to ride off after he drives Theonald out of his saddle, but then Jostyn attacks him, breaking his armor ad cutting his chest. “I am no squire, I am a /knight/!” he shouts angrily as he aims his mace at the Grell’s stomach. “Didn’t you want us to /leave/? Listen to your commanders!”
Ryckon attacks Jostyn with his mass weapon…
...and merely strikes a glancing blow!
Jostyn laughs,” Oh look at the big boy. He’s a knight, a knight who will experience his first defeat today.” The talk has distracted him, and he only manages to evade in the last second, and gets hit slightly on his shoulder. Enraged, he raises his sword, and slashes it towards the man’s right arm.
Jostyn attacks Ryckon with his sword…
...and strikes him with a hard blow!
Ryckon is driven from the saddle!
The mail coat isn’t a good protection for the weapon that Ryckon is using. Theonald falls to the ground, quickly pulling the reins of his destrier and standing up. He cleans the dirt from his face before watching the Grell knight avenge him.
“What should we do with him, ser?” He asks to Jostyn with a grin.
The armor protecting Ryckon’s arm is dented but not broken, but it is a painful blow nonetheless, and when Ryckon instinctively grabs at it he loses his balance and topples out of the saddle. He is dazed for a moment after he hits the ground, but he regains his senses by the time Theonald asks his question, though not enough to get up. He scowls at the two. “What should you do with me? I am a messenger. You are bound by honor to grant me safe passage.”
Jostyn turns to the Northener, ” You? You are a fool, ride back to Riverrun in disgrace.” He sneers at the Knight who got him in the trouble in the first place. ” You are free to go Westerling. It seems my commander wants you to deliver a message.” Jostyn stands there, waiting for the two to do as he says.
Brynden sighs as the struggle seems at an end. “Ser Janden, would you take this detail here and collect our overzealous friends? Let the Westerling go unless he can’t ride, I think. We should move back to the van while the light holds… these prisoners will slow us down some.” The scouts move away too, after the Brackens and Blackwoods both, just a few men to see that they do what the opposing sides had claimed to mean to do.
After a word with those in the lead, namely Tomas and Brynden, Janden mounts up to lead a handful of those on the Tully side toward Theonald, Jostyn and Ryckon. It will take a few moments for them to ride and close the distance, but when he arrives there’s a furious expression in place. “What in the name of the Seven do the two of you think you’re doing?” Gesturing to Ryckon, he goes on. “I bade him to leave unhindered and carry back the message to the rest of the Brackens and their men, if they’re truly interested in finishing this peacefully.”
It seems as though most of his fury is directed at Theonald, however. “You had no business chasing him down when this fight was already ended. You came with us to do what Lady Tully bids, not race off and do your own bidding. If you can’t follow instructions, be gone with you and wait the rest of this out back at the keep.”
Janden moves to offer Ryckon a hand up after dismounting, the others with him standing by if needed. He further adds to Jostyn, “And if your intent was to simply let him go, there was no point in driving him from the saddle.” He finally takes a longer moment to check on Ryckon if he isn’t turned away. “Are you well enough to ride back? We will not hold you prisoner, in spite of his foolishness.” Another sharp look is sent Theonald’s way.
Jostyn does not look pleased at all the criticism he is receiving. ” I tried to save this idiot.” Pointing at Theonald, ” But this young Knight did not want to obey me, so I taught him a lesson. And clearly he is not such a good fighter as they say.” He smiles at the Westerling, not in a friendly smile but a mocking one.
Theonald frowns, “Messenger? Who delivered the message? Brus?” He turns to the Grell, “Fool? I attacked a Bracken supporter! Weren’t we supposed to do that? Bring them to justice?” The knight seems cleary confused.
He turns his head to Janden, “Ended? Sorry ser, I got… distracted. I can ride back to Riverrun.”
Ryckon frowns some more at Jostyn and Theonald as he approaches his horse, and then accepts Janden’s hand when it is offered, rising slowly and clumsily and nodding to the huntsman perhaps a little too quickly. “Yes, yes, I can ride back, and carry the message. Thank you for putting an end to this madness.” His gait wavering, he approaches his horse and climbs up. With another glare at his would-be captors, he rides off.
He turns his head to Janden, “Ended? Sorry ser, I got… distracted. I can ride back to Riverrun.” the Northman says, mounting his destrier. “I suppose Lady Tinessa will want explanations, am I right?” the knight asks.
“We were to ensure the two sides stopped their fight. We’d done that, and Ser Ryckon here was departing by the right granted him,” Janden answers after giving Ryckon an actual apologetic look, playing the role of the one anyone else would need to go through if they had any other notions of continuing this. “He is delivering /our/ message,” he reminds Theonald before gesturing back toward the rest of the vanguard. “Go see Sers Tomas and Brynden. They’ll remind you what we’re here for if you’ve already forgotten.” Shaking his head, he climbs back ahorse.
“He’s good enough to have earned his spurs before his seventeenth nameday. Remember that.” Yes, Janden knows how old Ryckon is relative to the day’s date. “Let us return to the others.”
Ser Jostyn climbs back onto his mare, and starts riding next to Janden. ” Young, but clearly the lack of experience shows.” Is all the Riverlander says.
“A title brings no honor to the man, the man should bring honor to the title. If he is good, he would be at our side, since the very beginning.” Says Theonald in a hard tone, “Also, I was apart from the group, I didn’t saw when you gave him the message, for me and any other in my position, he would seem like a Bracken prisioner who was trying to flee.” He pulls the reins again, making his horse move faster.
Their knights returned to the Tully lines preparing to leave, Brynden removes his helmet and looks to the Grell knight and Theonald. He takes a deep breath and then shakes his head. “What was that? No one called for the man to be chased down, let alone attacked from behind. You are brave men, this no one has any doubt… but now is the time for discipline. There will be a siege, two, and a siege is no place for men who do not care to listen.” He considers his words for a moment, then continues. “Ser Theonald, Ser Jostyn, you will go with the men escorting these prisoners back to Riverrun and place yourselves at the disposal of Lady Tully there. She will need strong arms there to keep the place strong.” but then it seems that at least one of them seems to have has already considered this. In any case, his tone is such that he clearly does not care to hear protest.
Janden cants his head toward Jostyn. “And what were you doing at his age? How experienced were you?” He adds to Theonald, “By the time you heard us calling for you to cease your attack, you should have understood well enough.” He leaves it there, for others to explain as needed.
Jostyn looks at Janden,” Squiring for Ser Edmure Tully.” Is all he says, he turns to Brynden staring him in the eyes. ” I will not be punished for saving this incompetent fool’s honor.” Jostyn’s tone is not friendly, clearly he is not taking these developments well.
“I was at the siege of Starfall, then I went to Tor, guarding the rearguard with my cousin, Ser Stevyn, he killed the former Lord Dayne himself.” Says Theonald, “Again, I was apart and couldn’t listen to your words.” Turning to Brynden, “There are no words that can describe my shame, I present myself to any disciplinary actions that should be required.”
“You shall, or I shall send you back in chains.” Brynden says to Jostyn, matter-of-factly. “Then you can explain to my brother why I had to do so.” He shrugs. “I will give you a moment to decide.” There are already men moving closer. “Let us make it short, though. We should move now.”
Rage is visible on the Grell’s face, his hand is tightly clutching his hilt. He moves his steed, now slowly troding back towards Riverrun. Under his breath he mutters, ” The Locke will pay for this.”
Things seeming settled so far, Brynden breathes a sigh of relief. “Let us move back to the van and these prisoners moved back to Riverrun. We can grumble on the way. Mount up and move, all.”
For his part of this mess, Tomas just watches Brynden deal with the wayward knights. After all, as part of the contingent from King’s Landing Brynden stands a much better chance of knowing them and their possible motivations- and tempers- than Rivers himself does. “Form up!” he calls in echo of Brynden’s order. “Let’s move!”
“Did I asked for you to come and help me?” Asks Theonald with an angered tone, “It was your choice, but you shouldn’t make menaces that you can’t follow. Our realm has laws and I’m a man of the Winter, we know how to defend ourselves from things worse than a knight.” He moves to the formation, giving an ice look to the Grell.
“If i had not helped you, you would be a prisoner right now.” He says matter of factly. ” Worse than a knight? And yet you could not defeat a Knight.” Jostyn sneers at the man, but he stays further back.