|
|
Post by zeubercat on Dec 19, 2012 16:40:09 GMT -5
Gerold turned his horse around. "I shall see you in two hours, and after that, I won't see you ever again." He smiled.
|
|
|
|
Post by Ser Gerik Connington on Dec 19, 2012 18:12:12 GMT -5
Leo nodded. "Two hours. Arthur get ready."
Arthur chuckled, not out of humor, but disbelief. Well, fuck me. This is gonna be fun. "Someone find me a squire."
|
|
|
|
Post by Lord Edwyn Baratheon on Dec 19, 2012 19:01:08 GMT -5
Markar looks over the man with a unimpressed look. "Fair enough, Ser Hightower, I shall meet you on the field." As he leaves he stops and turns to Lord Baratheon, "Lord Edwyn, Bring me Dark Sister." Edwyn beckoned to one of his knights to do Markar's bidding. He leaned forward and in a low voice spoke into Markar's ear. "Commander, this is foolish. This is their last throw of the dice. They know with our dragon that much of their army and perhaps themselves will meet a fiery death. You are agreeing to terms for which you cannot authorise. Blackfyre will not recognise this so-called Southern Kingdom even if you lose. Meet them on the field of battle instead with our full force and let the Gods decide the outcome." |
|
|
|
Post by zeubercat on Dec 19, 2012 20:54:50 GMT -5
Gerold spoke. "Baratheon, Lord Markar is in command of your army, last time I heard. He is bound by honor to stay by a challenge that he made, and we accepted."
He addressed his companions quietly. "Arthur. Go to my tent, there's a bottle there, on the top shelf of the cabinet, far right. Half an hour before you go to the field, I want you to drink it. If it does what I think it will, it should raise your energy long enough to give you an edge in the duel."
|
|
|
|
Post by The Darkness on Dec 19, 2012 21:09:59 GMT -5
((Um......what bottle? You cant just make up sudden vials of godhood.  )) Markar looked to him and he wields the Valyarian Steel sword and hefts a shield. "Hightower is right, but you are also right. If I die, retreat the army, but that does not mean this War is over." |
|
|
|
Post by zeubercat on Dec 19, 2012 21:15:12 GMT -5
OOC: Sorry, it's not a bottle of magic potion, it's a stimulant. Much like caffine, but stronger. And Gerold has Apprentice Knowledge (Healing) so I thought that more than reasonable.
|
|
|
|
Post by Lord Tybolt Lannister on Dec 20, 2012 1:05:04 GMT -5
(or he could be working the placebo effect)
|
|
|
|
Post by zeubercat on Dec 20, 2012 1:30:46 GMT -5
OOC: I think Arthur is considerably smarter than that. Unless it's actually wine, and he thinks it's going to improve his fighting skill temporarily.  |
|
|
|
Post by Ser Gerik Connington on Dec 20, 2012 9:30:11 GMT -5
Art smiled, saddled his horse, and rode off, King Leo and their retainers with them.
|
|
|
|
Post by The Darkness on Dec 20, 2012 10:12:40 GMT -5
Two Hours later,
Markar stands in his white armor and white cape, letting it flap in the wind. He holds a shield and the valyrian steel sword at his hip.
|
|
|
|
Post by Ser Gerik Connington on Dec 20, 2012 11:58:17 GMT -5
Arthur stood across He was in full plate with a white cape billowing out behind him. He held his sword and shield in hand. He licked his lips for the drink his brother gave him tasted bad. Gods, watch over me..
Leo stood quietly, an honor guard around him.
((Please don't start till I'm actually on. I really want to be here for every leg of this fight. and what the hell did that liquid do Gerold?))
|
|
|
|
Post by zeubercat on Dec 20, 2012 12:50:19 GMT -5
OOC: Actually, guys, I wanted to do several stuff BEFORE the two-hour timeskip, so can we be a little more patient with this duel, please? There's a reason why I said duel in two hours, and not right away.
And also, like I said, the drink should up his energy and awareness level for the fight, like a stimulant, similar to a stronger, more concentrated caffine, so unless the fight lasts really long, it shouldn't have any problems. It's up to Darkness to say what small bonus it gives, if any. I was thinking around +1 to +5, personally, but that's his descision.
Gerold spurred his horse beside Tyrell's as they were leaving the Parlay grounds. He spoke in an undertone.
"Your grace. We need to talk privately. Now. There isn't much time, and I don't trust many of the men here."
|
|
|
|
Post by Ser Gerik Connington on Dec 20, 2012 12:54:45 GMT -5
"We'll speak in the camp." he spurred his horse to a gallop.
|
|
|
|
Post by zeubercat on Dec 20, 2012 12:56:36 GMT -5
Gerold held his arm, almost at a whisper. "No. Don't you see? The camp, and your tent, are the least private places in Westeros right now. The moment we walk into there, we'll have his eyes and ears on us, and I won't be able to say anything. This field, right here, is the only place where I can trust what I say."
|
|
|
|
Post by Ser Gerik Connington on Dec 20, 2012 13:07:01 GMT -5
He sighed. "What is it, Gerold?"
|
|
))