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Post by oznerol on Jun 4, 2020 5:52:29 GMT -5
It was good to stand, again, in a ship's deck. The winds had been good enough as to let them pass Widow's Watch without issues, else the travel could have ended abruptly, with the ship crashing against the sharp rocks at the feet of those immense cliffs. But they could go on. Took them quite a few days to reach the Grey Hills, were they stopped by to resupply water and hunt some poor hares that were lurking around the river. The cog, one of the many that Manderly owned, was sturdy enough to endure a storm that lashed against them for almost a whole day, unforgiving, until they could turn the cape and head towards Skagos. Davos did not know what he would find there, neither how he was actually going to find who he was looking for, but he trusted that the Skagosi did not live to their reputation. Just in case, Manderly had given him a few men-at-arms, including a pompous knight named Ser Horace Woolfield, supposedly a kinsman of Lord Lamprey himself, but, by looking at how sinewy the man was the relation must have been quite distant as the Mermen were rather... fleshy; Davos did not care about the degree of kindred, anyway. After another week of crossing the high sea, the flanks of the ship battered by the increasingly inhospitable waves, they could see the distant shape of a ragged coastline in the distance. The Onion Knight prayed to the Father, for guidance, for he knew whatever happened it wouldn't be as smooth as one would like to. Seaworth wished he had his fingers with him still, he thought with a sight, as the isle of Skagos looms in the horizon.
At least I should try getting an unicorn horn for the kids. And I bet princess Shireen would like one too...
The sailor stood near the helm, wishing to be elsewhere, in the Rainwood, at the comfortable stone-build house he had, with his younger kids and Marya. Alas, he had a duty now, towards his King. And he would see the Stark boy and his wolf delivered to Stannis himself.
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Post by Gandalf on Jun 4, 2020 11:58:10 GMT -5
Fog and snow loomed over the island as Davos made his landing on a small cove, carved into the cliffside by giants or some other primeval force. Large and spacious, it was the perfect sheltered place to anchor the ship. There was no sign of the local population, at least for now. A crude stairwell led up out into the open air, where the bitter winter wind howled and battered against the rocks.
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Post by oznerol on Jun 4, 2020 12:22:47 GMT -5
They used the small boat to get to the shore, the mean at arms rowing while Davos and the knight sat face to face. The wooden planks scratched the rocky soil, and the men leaped out the boat. Davos did as much, both boots half to claf in the water, walking towards the beach, which looked barren and empty, bereft of any life. Davos could feel small icicles hanging from his beard and moustache. The men-at-arms could be freezing inside their hauberks hadn't they worn those thick cloaks and padded gambesons.
"Alright, let's get down to bussiness, boys"
"Go! Lads! Move, move!"
Davos arched an eyebrow at the knight having to repeat what he had just said, but he was used to noblemen having a hard time following orders from someone as lowborn as Davos of Flea Bottom, no matter he was Hand to a king and a lord on his own right now. Not that Seaworth cared either for what the knight thought or did.
"Be careful, we don't know what's beyond the shore, Skagosi have quite the reputation..."
Davos climbs a small rock formation, trying to see something in the horizon, smoke could indicate a settlement: that would be a good place to start, as good to any other. Behind him was a boy with a serious somber look on his face, Wex Pyke, the only one who actually knew how the lordling they were seeking looked like. The three men-at-arms and the knight await below, grunting and moving on the place, trying not to freeze in such a weather.
"Ser Davos! Do you see something?"
Yelled the knight. Pinetrees and rocks covered the inhospitable landscape, but Davos kept looking for trace of living beings on the isle.
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Post by Gandalf on Jun 5, 2020 13:24:11 GMT -5
A small village, or what passed as one in this harsh land, would be visible in the distance. It was nothing more than a few lit hovels gathered around a longhall, but it was the only sign of civilisation visible on this frostbitten rock that could be seen in the wind and snow.
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Post by oznerol on Jun 5, 2020 14:58:04 GMT -5
Davos grunts, pointing towards the look-too-fast-and-you'll-miss-it village. The company then makes way towards the grouped hovels, struggling with the hard terrain and harsh weather, took them a good part of two hours to reach it. If they could see the sun, Seaworth mused to himself, they'd see it was high on the sky.
"Be careful, don't flaunt your swords, remove your hands from them: we don't know how susceptible these folks are"
Considering the tales told, pretty much they were cannibals and savages, but Davos had seen too much as to trust stories whispered by old nans and toothless widows about a land they could have hardly seen by their own eyes. They moved into the circle made by the hovels and approached the longhall, slowly, trying to not look threatening.
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Post by Gandalf on Jun 6, 2020 22:01:00 GMT -5
A few Skagosi emerged from the smoky hall; shaggy haired and wrapped in thick fur, they looked more like bears than men. Warily, they came forward, carrying axes and spears, one particularly large fellow wearing a helmet with two ram’s horns jutting from the top. He barked at Davos crudely in rough common, hefting his weapon defensively at the sight of so many armed strangers.
”State yer business, stranger. If you’ve come to carry off my kinfolk, you’ll get nothing but black iron.”
Clearly, their encounters with foreigners were not often friendly.
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Post by oznerol on Jun 7, 2020 3:24:34 GMT -5
Davos raises both hands, empty.
"No, no, worry not. We come seeking the kindred of our lord, not yours: your people shall remain undisturbed"
Said Davos, trying to smile and look harmless. He didn't even have a sword on the scabbard, just a small hunting knife to eat and cut ropes. The men-at-arms looked certainly concerned about being butchered by savages a thousand miles or more away from their houses at White Harbor and being served as supper. The knight, on the meanwhile -as foolish as any self-entitled one- looked still quite confident. Wex Pyke had to endure the horrors of Ramsay and was the one who stayed more calm: he had seen worse.
"You might have heard about the wolves of Winterfell, chief"
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Post by Gandalf on Jun 7, 2020 7:41:43 GMT -5
"Stark? Aye, we know them. He treated us good and fair. But now he's dead."
Though Davos was unarmed, the Skagosson was still hefting his axe towards the southerners. His narrow gaze flitted over to Davos' missing fingers.
"What is it to you, half-hand? You here from the Flayed Man?"
Then, he noticed the others, the tin-men wearing a mermaid on their armour. There was a flicker of recognition in his narrowed eyes, visible even in the wind and snow.
"No, you're from White Harbour. I can smell it on you. Why have you come?"
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Post by oznerol on Jun 7, 2020 16:18:39 GMT -5
"Killed by traitors, who broke the guest right, cursed thing to do"
Davos spat to a side, as conjuring away the bad luck. looks at his missing fingertips.
"And, no, I come on behalf of Manderly, as you guessed. The North Remembers"
He lowers hands and arms, placing both thumbs at the belt.
"This young man, whose name is Wex Pyke, claims Ned Stark's son, Rickon, is in this isle, acompanied by his direwolf, a large beast of dark fur. We come to carry him home and name him lord of Winterfell, as sole living heir to his father and brother"
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Post by Gandalf on Jun 7, 2020 17:44:35 GMT -5
"Never heard of him. Suggest you leave this place, southerner. Our lord's castle is a mile north. We don't want guests. Not tonight."
The Skagosi warily filed back into the longhall, still hefting their weapons close to them as they left Davos and his Manderly men out in the cold. At least they gave directions. Davos would indeed find a muddied track leading northwards, and though the destination was not visible in the mist, the well worn path certainly led somewhere.
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Post by oznerol on Jun 7, 2020 17:52:40 GMT -5
"By the Seven. Hospitable and kind folks, undoubtedly"
Grunted the aging Southerner as the night started to fall after they were trading the muddy track.
"I suggest we hurry, else we're throughfully screwed, lads. This cold we cannot endure in the open, let's move"
Everyone looked slightly miserable. Davos wrapped himself tightly in the woolen cloak, trying to shield himself from the chilling winds. They hurried to the North, walking as fast as they could in the present circumstances.
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Post by Gandalf on Jun 7, 2020 18:23:43 GMT -5
A castle loomed overhead, no longer obscured by winter's frosty breath. It was little more than a wooden fort, truth be told, a ragged looking structure with a square towers and ice-bitten gates clad in iron. Banners hung from the ramparts, a green lobster on white. Someone shouted down from the gate-house, scarcely heard over the howling winds.
"Who comes to the Magnar's gates?!"
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Post by oznerol on Jun 7, 2020 18:47:29 GMT -5
"Davos Seaworth and Horace Woolfield! We come from White Harbor! On behalf of Lord Wyman Manderly!"
Yelled the old smuggler, shaking under his cloak.
"We beg you to let us take shelter in your halls! We shall bring you no harm!"
Wex Pike's nose looked almost frozen and everyone else looked miserable, exhausted. Seaworth's own fingers felt stiff and his joints ached like seven hells. He needed a warm fireplace and a bath, but he doubted he was getting one.
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Post by Gandalf on Jun 7, 2020 19:57:09 GMT -5
There was a moment of silence. Slowly, the holdfast’s gates creaked open, with around a score of armed men clad in fur standing watch in the courtyard as Davos’ party entered. The Skagossons were wild looking even by northern standards, short and broad with shaggy manes and beards. Some had their hair braided, and wore circlets of tarnished gold on their arms up to their elbows. Weapons of bronze and iron hung from their hips, and on their oaken shields an animal or primordial pattern was painted. Quickly and quietly they ushered Davos and his men into the longhall, twice or thrice the size of the one previously seen in the village. A large man at the end of the hall seated on a makeshift throne overseeing the proceedings. Previously abuzz with sound, all fell silent at the new arrivals, the low roar of the fire cutting through the tension.
“Welcome, Davos Seaworth and Horace Woolfield.”
Rumbled the one on the throne, whose face was almost entirely obscured by a pitch black beard. Like the others, he wore golden arm-rings, so much so that his forearms were completely covered in them.
“I am the Magnar. You are welcome to eat with us, as my guests.”
Places had been prepared next to the lord himself, at the very head of the table. A hundred wary eyes watched them as they made their way to their seats. Bread, salt and ale had been laid out for them, as well as a meat broth of questionable origin.
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Post by oznerol on Jun 8, 2020 2:38:15 GMT -5
There was a moment of silence. Slowly, the holdfast’s gates creaked open, with around a score of armed men clad in fur/ standing watch in the courtyard as Davos’ party entered. The Skagossons were wild looking even by northern standards, short and broad with shaggy manes and beards. Some had their hair braided, and wore circlets or tarnished gold on their arms up to their elbows. Weapons of bronze and iron hung from their hips, and on their oaken shields an animal or pattern was painted. Quickly and quietly they ushered Davos and his men into the longhall, twice or thrice the size of the one previously seen in the village. Alarge man at the end of the hall seated on a makeshift throne overseeing the proceedings. Previously abuzz with sound, all fell silent at the new arrivals, the low roar of the fire cutting through the tension. “Welcome, Davos Seaworth and Horace Woolfield.” Rumbled the one on the throne, whose face was almost entirely obscured by a pitch black beard. Like the others, he wore golden arm-rings, so much so that his forearms were completely covered in them. “I am the Magnar. You are welcome to eat with us, as my guests.” Places had been prepared next to the lord himself, at the very head of the table. A hundred wary eyes watched them as they made their way to their seats. Bread, salt and ale had been laid out for them, as well as a meat broth of questionable origin.
Davos bows slightly as a salute. These were fierce men, if only he could take a number of them back to the king... they would fight fierce and bloody.
"We're thankful for your hospitality, Magnar"He said, while getting close to the table, taking a seat and eating both salt and bread. He felt relieved as he swallowed the traditional meals of the guest right, as he very well guessed these were men of tradition. The broth, no matter how it looked like, was a wondrous thing to eat, moreso for Davos of Flea Bottom, who during infancy had eating pure gruel, hunted rats and doves; and even cats on ocasion. "And we're honored for being welcomed into your hall, sire"Said the Southerner. Woolfield was too busy trying to regain control of his fingers, Pyke was swallowing the broth eagerly and the men at arms were serving themselves some ale. "A most delicate affair has brought me here, to Skagos"
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