out the Century: A House Deschain Quest

At the pace Ser Wil Deschain was riding Boulder, he suspected it wouldn't be until nightfall before he reached the Dancing Dragon Inn, let alone King's Landing but frankly he could care less. The sun was high, glob of orange that seems to be growing larger and larger like a wine stain wiped the wrong way, but it air breeze was constant and soft. Spring had just arrived and quite frankly, Ser Will was determined to enjoy it. Three long years of Winter got a man to appreciated a nice heat. Especially one as soft and pleasant as this one.

“Can we please go faster my Lord?” Daeron Frey asked, wiping sweat from his brow. A lanky, chinless little lordling, naming him after a dragon apparently did little to add gumption to his disposition. Wil wonder how Set Holster Frey ever got him to agree to squire his little shit of son, friend of his father Roland or not. “At this rate we'll barely make it for the tourney, and the squire's melee is formally a day before...”

“Daeron, you best soak up the sun all you can. Spring might might mean sunshine and bright skys in the Riverlands, but after tourney we head back to my home in the Stormlands. And Spring in the Stormlands means rain and dark clouds if your lucky, thunder and lighting if your not.” Ser Wil said, smiling before taking a swig from his waterskin “Besides, I've been over this, your not ready for the melee or the lists yet we'll discuss again in a year”

“Not anyone near as big as Daeron's Memorial though” Frey sulked as he trotted along on his big black courser, oh so cleverly named Midnight. Thankfully, as far as Wil was able to hear, he stayed silent after that though.

Not that he wasn't right. Rumor was Aegon IV had every intention of outdoing himself this year, and it was said it was known for being open handed when it came to celebrations, feasts, and festivals. The king loved a party and there was no bigger one possible than at a joust. Knights, lords, ladies and singers alike all looking to puff up their chests and show off what they had to offer, honor those brave or foolish enough to do so, or at least make coin pretending to so. A type of geneosity Wil's father, Lord Roland would have looked down upon no doubt, but one Ser Wil had yet to develop an opinion one way or another. Wil never took the sept like his father had, and quite frankly outside of battle, didn't share much an opinion or liking or even skill for what he believed.

After what had to have been at least a couple of hours, Daeron spoke again his voice losing it's usual inflection of a child's loud self pitying tantrum and a suprisingly flat and matter of fact voice.

“Ser Wil….is that smoke?”

It took Wil a minute or two to focus his eyes, but sure enough the Frey boy wasn't wrong. Off in the distance a little hovel of a house was emitting a thick black inky smog. Outfront a wagon was overturned with a man sprawled on his belly. Wil wasn't a clever man, but he was smart enough to put two and two together.

>Investigate
>Go on your way

Well, messed up the thread title. Will continue on, even if it's goofy looking as hell

>>49248141
>>Go on your way

>>49248488
"Good, let's see if you ride as well as you could see" You say, as put your knees to your steed, Sunshine, hard and true. These weren't your lands and bandits would just as easily fall on you as peasants if they were well armed enough.

As the Frey boy struts alongside, given the shaken look on his already frail frame, it wouldn't take much to motivate them and to be quite frank the boy was green enough they'd be right to get cocky. You'd spend as much time protecting him, as fighting them.

At your rushed pace, it only takes a couple of hours to make it the Dancing Dragon. A crudely painted replica of Targaryen coat of arms, a dragon with a single red head and a poorly drawn neck, and a brown mug of ale beneath it.

"Ser Wil" Daeron began "Do think it was right for us to...just leave like that?"

>A.) I promised your father that I would ensure your safety.

>B.) Yes, I had you with me and your still too young to get caught up in a fight. You'd have put them in even more danger.

>C.) Wasn't our fight

>D.) Other

Thread Title by the way, is supposed to say "A Storm Throughout the Centuries"

Is there any interest in this, did the title being messed up put people off or is it just the time?

>>49248805
>A.) I promised your father that I would ensure your safety.

>>49249840

"Being a Knight is more than jousting in tourneys or fighting in wars Daeron. I promised your father that I would ensure your safety. I know you were trained by a master of arms and served your uncle as a page, but you know nothing of real combat, let alone have ever seen true death" You say, as you dismount Sunshine, her yellow mane slapping across your face as you do so.

It might look like a pile of sticks rather than a proper inn, but that was part of the Dancing Dragon's charm. The logs it was comprised off looked narrow, warped, and dilapidated but either the smell from the cooking got out easier or it somehow it mixed with building itself over the years...but it did smell good. Plus it had stables and alcohol. All the necessities a traveler truly needed.

"Take our horses and pay the stablehand, I'll get us something to eat" You say, as the boy gives you another disappointed look, this time more from sloth than outrage. "Don't worry, we're only taking a break to eat. I'll see to it that we make King's Landing by nightfall."

As you walk into the Inn, it's nothing but all too familiar sights, smells, and sounds. Off to the left of your peripheral vision, a small mob of merchants and travelers prepare for a long night or already taking mats for a nap or an early sleep. To the center drunks and patrons drink or feed on stew, bread, soup, and the occasional bright red chunks of meat. Singers either fullheartly or lathergically play harps or wind instruments near tables hoping for a tip unlikely to happen. Waitress dart around to serve drink and food quickly as possible to either avoid offending others or to avoid lecherous fingers.

Near the front are the personages that actually interest you however. Knights and the occasional lord take choice seats that have feathered cushions and eat true greens along with slices of meat that differentiate themselves into turkey, fowl, pork, or even steaks. Wine is spread around, though mead and ale are far from uncommon.

While most aren't wearing armor, and even among those who do have most have plate, chain mail or scale on them wear a plain variety, more than a few wear fine tunics with insignia on them. The bats of House Whent, the mermen of Manderly. the eagle of Mallister, and the bloody lances of Lungis. Among countless others. Even outside the familiar coat of arms you notice familiar faces among the crowd.

Massive in muscle, height, beard, and belly as ever was Ser Walder Manderly drinking from two large wooden mugs of a golden ale. A serving girl was laughing nervously at some story he was sharing with her, the girl obviously trying to disengage. Fearsome, honorable but a little over friendly.

Jon Mallister was on the other side of the bar, drinking a simple cup of water with a mixture of various green vegetables, slices of apples, and slices of ham on a plate he constantly picked at. A tall, gaunt man with muscle woven tightly around him like rope...from what little you saw of him with steel in hand he was a talented warrior but just lacked the build to make him great. Also a finicky man easily offended or taken a back. Still he had interesting stories and was a frequent visitor to King's Landing

>A) Join Walder Manderly

>B) Join Jon Mallister

>C.) Get a seat for yourself and Daeron.

I think I'll just try to restart this tomorrow or Sunday. Or if the thread survives, just continue where I left off.