Marcher's Path
Twenty-Second Day of the Tenth Month 293 AC
The sound of iron hammers fixing stone into place filled the dusty air was accompanied by rhythmic huffs of exertion as the men worked through the hot southern afternoon. They had a break through the worst of the midday heat, but they were still all too glad to lay down their tools at the sight of the plume of dust that heralded an approaching rider.
Still the legionaries among them reached for their weapons. The newly built strong-point of Crow's Ridge was far from the borders of the newly claimed province of Draconys... but it was still Draconys. Alhough the worst of the magic-twisted beasts that stalked out of the wastelands may not be clever enough to make it this far, twisted fey and brigands driven by mad whispers of power were not uncommon in these parts. The rest of the world may just be remembering magic, but for the people of the eastern marches it had never left, familiar as it was perilous.
Thankfully, the banner in the distance soon showed itself to be the White Swan on Red of House Swann of Draconys. True, in most places the sight of the lord of the land riding through might have caused more than a pang of worry to any simple laborers and masons, no matter how diligently they went about their task, but these were Legion men and builders hired on the king's coin. They were helpful and polite, of course, no reason to antagonize a highborn warrior, but they showed their work with pride unshadowed by any fear.
***
As it so happened, Ser Balon approved not only of the tone in which he was greeted, reminding it as it did of solid marcher spirit, but also of the presence of the black armored soldiers. His own armsmen were still green as spring grass, or at best more practiced in trapping and hunting than in holding and enforcing peace, and warding off brigands or worse. The best that could be said for his Household at the moment was that he had managed to hire on three dozen Dothraki who liked how he sat on a horse almost as much as they liked his silver. He had only had to hang a handful of them for falling back on old habits which, from their reputation and the sort of tales they told when they thought the lord wasn't looking, was a minor miracle.
Establish Guard Posts in Draconys Complete (24/4)
"Did you find anything of note on patrol, lieutenant?" the knight asked the officer in command of the small detachment, speaking slowly as he had grown accustomed to doing to make himself understood with his still basic grasp of Low Valyrian.
"Nary a glimpse of buried treasure or friendly nymphs to whisk a man away to their garden of delights, more's the pity," the man replied in jest. Thankfully, Balon understood that perfectly with the aid of the talisman he had bought before he left Sorcerer's Deep. More than once he wished his funds could have stretched to afford the stronger kind that worked for listening and speaking, but he had better places to put his tourney winnings.
Always plow gold back into the land when you can and you shall reap a rich harvest, his lord father always said, and surely in few places was it as true as in these still poor and lonely lands.
"No doubt those nymphs are waiting right around the corner," the knight replied dryly. "In the meantime though did you find anything I could use?"
"Aye, there's a limestone deposit about three leagues south of here," the officer pointed first to the horizon, then to his map.
"Good man," Balon congratulated him. "There's a cask of ale in it for all of you when you next pass my keep," he added as he motioned to his party to ride to the potential quarry site. This was not rich land, not yet, but it was his to care for and pass on to his sons, and
they would find it rich.
OOC: Not the most exciting interlude in the world, but it should at least give an idea of how things are working out in Draconys. Not yet edited.