A Tale in Two Parts
Ninth Day of the Second Month 294 AC
When Brynden Tully had sent ravens around the loyal Houses of the Vale seeking aid to end the wildling raids, to end the clans and see them dead on bloody swords, the young knights had cheered and their elders had scoffed.
The wildlings were like the beasts of the wood and no hunter could kill them all, no matter how skilled with the bow, those had been Lord Uthor Tolet's words, spoken to his son on the day of his departure from Grey Glen.
Rarely has a man been proven more wrong, thought Andrew Tollet, filial piety abandoned in the silence of his own mind. The Knight of the Bloody gate had a plan to bring the bastards to battle, unless they wanted to see their holes burned clean away. And he had wizards of his own, not as many nor as inured in those strange arts as the Witch of the Mountains, but enough to find his way, hedge mages and mercenaries trained in the east and found by way of Oldtown. Where exactly one would find their like, Andrew neither knew nor cared. All he had to concern himself with was the path under the sentinel pines.
According to the witches and confirmed by the prisoners and traitors alike, this was the sort of place where the wildlings came to trade over the years on the rare occasions when two or more clans could stand being next to each other without breaking out into drunken brawling or blood feuds. Ever since the witch had bound the clans together against the folk of the Vale, such gatherings had grown richer, swollen like a tick with the blood of honest folk the bastards had been supping from.
Well, no more. They would scare the savages back into their holes so bad they wouldn't come out for another three thousand years...
"Easy does it, Andrew, the horse can feel you as well as you can feel him. You don't want to break into a gallop now of all items, I imagine," the familiar voice of Ben broke into his thoughts.
"Know much about riding from the two months you've had you spurs?" Andrew asked the redheaded third son of Lord Jon Coldwater, and for his sins his friend in these damn woods.
"I rode plenty of horses when I was a squire and a page come to that," came the teasing response, untroubled by the half serious glare the elder knight threw him. "Did your father only put you on a horse when you became a knight? No wonder you ride so..." Exactly how Andrew was supposed to ride he would never know. The cheerful words broke off in a horrible gurgle. Blood spurted from his neck, turning the strange colorless arrow that has struck him there crimson.
That was the last thing Andrew saw before a wave of darkness struck him, sapping the strength of his limbs just as it stole the light of his eyes. He couldn't see and hear the men behind him anymore, but in the cold darkness he could almost hear the wails of the damned. He prayed to the gods to give him the courage of Torgold the Grim to withstand the foul magics, but the gods were silent and then the silence swallowed him.
***
Looking down from the height, shrouded from mortal eyes, a dragon of silver voice and shadowed soul carefully weighed how many of the enemy to leave alive to report the ambush. It would not do to let too many through, or this 'new foe' would not be counted fearsome enough to draw the valemen into the trap prepared for them. Nor could not be too few, or some element of the mummery they set up would be missed. Can't have that, the worst thing a play can be is forgotten.
Mists cold with
unnatural chill rose around the enemy, and in the darkness dead things walked. Not so many nor so strong that they would be
assured to with without spells of terror to aid them, but
enough. The giant would sell Tully's death perfectly adequately, but merely one wandering corpse, however large, would not would not drive fear into the flower of the Vale's chivalry. A proper spectacle builds up to the bloody finale, after all.
From which PoV do you wish to see the final clash?
[] Brynden Tully, Knight of the Bloody Gate, loyal to the last
[] Dala, watching her kin's vengeance long denied bloom from the stony earth
[] A dragon born of shadow and broken chains, architect of death
[] Write in
OOC: Not much of a vote unforgettably. Everything I could think of would be just really micromanagement.Not yet edited.
