[D8, mid night] Greens & Blacks

[Reader]

Greens &
Blacks - with thanks to Ser Theomore both IC and OOC
A late night, dark dreams and a bad tempered tourney come to a head.
Ill words and ill feelings bring Lord Tully's guests to blows, withe allegations of flashes of steel amongst the violence only exacerbating proceedings.
Prince Daemon Targaryen and Ser Balon Hightower both enlist a knot of trusted men and attempt to restore order, but there is ample opportunity for the unscrupulous to take advantage of the chaos, or for kind-hearted souls to carry out good works.

Participants: mandatory, but some rolls below are optional. Rolls are taken in the order listed.

Challenges:
- Cunning Memory (TN) 9 [optional] - remembering the source of ill feeling can help you defuse threats. Success grants a +1 bonus per DoS that may be allocated AFTER any subsequent roll. Critical failure = -1 to ALL subsequent rolls.
- Thievery, TN 12 [optional] - steal 200ss per DoS, critical failure = caught in the act. Lesser failures may lead to identification after the event.
- Fighting (Brawling) TN9 [optional] - Success - highest result earns +1 glory, 1B brawling and adds 1 to the Green/Black score, but every DoS increases this event's "
War"
score by 1. Critical failure = 1 injury

One of the following three rolls
Encourage discord - Persuade/Deception (any) TN12 - Highest score +1 glory, each success adds 1 to "
War score"

Encourage pece - Persuade/Deception (any) TN12 - highest score +1 glory, each success adds 1 to "
Peace score"

Tend the injured - Healing (any) TN 12 - Highest score +1 glory, one NPC owes you a favour and their disposition improves to amiable (no effect if amiable already). Status of favour giver depedent on Dos - 1 Dos <
=4, 2 DoS <
=6, 3 DoS <
= 7, 4 DoS <
= 8

Final roll
- Endurance (reslience) TN 12 - success - prevent 1 injury per DoS to any other participant. Critical failure = 1 injury.

- Remember to include any fatigue penalties you're suffering from the previous event.

Consequences
- How quickly order is restored depends on your success above, and whether the war score is above the peace score.
- Glory awards etc reflected above

[Yoren longshore]

[url=Cunning Memory roll][/url]: 3d6 13 (1 away from 2)
[url=Thievery][/url]: 4d6k3 12
[url=Brawling][/url]: 3d6 17 Orokos loves fighting!
[url=Encourage peace][/url]: 4d6k3 11 +1 from cunning here
[url=endurance][/url]: 2d6 2 (oh jebus spend Dp for a bd [url=endurance bd][/url]: 1d6 5)
Hearing the commotion from outside Yoren quickly finds the banner of house Longshore from among the packs before rushing out. Seeing the giant Henryk Pyke Yoren rushes over and gives him the banner: "
Gather all Longshore men here, i want no one getting injuried due to this drunken brawl."
He states quickly as he looks around, remembering the feuds playing out before him. "
I want you to gather all of our men, shout until you find them all, then simply hold this ground, we want no part in this."
Louder to the men he adds: "
Gather around Henryk and do as he tells you, and stay out of the fight, don't fight unless someone is stupid enough to approach all of you together. I will put this issue to rest soon enough, then we can go about our drinking again!"
Yoren adds as a dealsweetener. Just then a young reachman approaches "
Ironborn scum..."
Is as far as he comes before Yoren knocks him flat out before hauling him to Henryk;
"
Stow him away somewhere would you?"
Before setting off, satisfied with the weight of the purse he grabbed from the reachman as he heaved him over to Henryk.
"
Now, Peace I am sure what she did to your aunt fifteen years ago may be solved in a more civilized fashion than this! Surely Gorman would be happy to mediate a peace between you if you just asked him, tell you what, if you go to bed now i am sure he will see you first thing tomorrow."
Yoren tells a young noble before seeing him off. These pansies can't hold their drink He thinks to himself after the agitated nobelman went to his camp. This was Yorens last coherent thoughts for a long while as he dodged mob after mob, heading for the relative safety of the Coldbrook encampment. Once there he noticed a long shallow cut from his hip and well down his shin. Bandaging this he started out again, continuing trying to dissolve the situation, which was easier said than done. He worked for a long while, only stopping to check on Henryk and sending his men back to safety. It became a rough few hours, but Yoren was too occupied to notice.

[Dyana Marsten]

[url=Greens &
Blacks - Cunning (Memory)][/url]: 3d6-1 8 - No good, no harm.
[url=Greens &
Blacks - Persuasion (Charm)][/url]: 4d6k3+1 13 - Encouraging peace.
[url=Greens &
Blacks - Endurance (Resilience)][/url]: 4d6-1 10 - Two 1s?! Ok then.
Results: +1 to "
Peace score"
.

Dyana drifts into the camp, towards the noise of grunts, steel and shouting. The rain had washed her tears away, even beneath the hood, and she was trying to hold herself with what dignity strolling around with a sleeping blouse could afford. The familiar weight of a sword to her side helped, but not much, as she noticed the scene unfolding before her was startlingly familiar to the nightmare she had just escaped from, in some ways.

"
Dyana!"
A burly, rugged man with a great beard and in haphazardly-assembled soldier's gear approached in a jog. "
Wait!"
He panted, at last drawing close. "
Damnit, Dyana, I didn't find you in the tent, thought you were off to, to... that mess!"
He coughed hard, glancing in the direction of the brawl.

"
Corrad, I... no. I just barely got out of the tent, actually."
She looked up at the large man with weary green eyes. "
Are any of our men in there?"


The soldier scratched his head. "
Uh, yes, actually. Some of them have been itching for a fight. You know some men can't miss the opportunity. The fools!"
Corrad growled under the rain. "
I got some of the boys together in the larger tent, and more men are waking up by the moment. Everybody was having trouble sleeping even before the noise woke anyone. We be thinking of getting some spears and calling off the rioters."


"
No!"
Dyana called out through the haze of dampness and fear, her eyes darting towards the sound of battle and back up at he who was her most trusted soldier. "
Don't... let's not get involved. See everyone to safety, just... don't interfere. Unless the fight comes to us, let's just stay here. Where are the others?"


Corrad nodded assent. "
Sure, Dy. Whatever you say. The boys are back over by the stables, the big tent, remember? Come!"
He said, starting forwards with Dyana following behind, looking searchingly around for her sister or her cousin to appear.

[Gwyneth Drakeson]

[url=Cunning in Greens and Blacks][/url]: 3d6 13
Encouraging peace!
[url=Persuade (Charm) at Greens and Blacks][/url]: 6d6k4 17
Hotness reroll of 1
[url=Hotness reroll of a 1][/url]: 1d6 4
That brings Persuade result to 18
[url=Endurance in Greens and Blacks (bonus from Cunning here)][/url]: 2d6+1 8

Gwyn was still awake after the nightmare, though starting to fade slowly back to sleep when she heard a commotion. Shouting...curses...grunts and cries of pain. What?!

She was already mostly dressed, and only took a few minutes to complete the process before rushing out. There, terrifyingly not-far away, were torches, glints of metal, men swinging and pouncing and mauling one another.

"
No!"
she cried, catching the arm of a man heading towards the fracas. He rounded on her, eyes blazing, but she didn't shrink back. "
Stop,"
said Gwyn. "
Stop and breathe, and think. Stay with the tents. Protect your family, and House, but do not raise hand to anyone who is not trespassing on our ground. We will protect what is ours, but not stray to join some...brawl."


He looked back and pointed. Others were gathering as well. "
It's the Queen's men!"
he snarled. "
They're ambushing! We've got to fight back!"


"
THINK!"
Gwyn snapped back, eyes flashing. "
Do you see military order? Do you see archers or crossbows? Men on horses? Commanders in the field? This is a riot, not an organized attack! Arm yourself, fall back, and protect the tents. And that's all!"


There were grumbles, but the knot of men that Gwyn had managed to catch the attention of did as she said...leaving the fight behind and staying back to make sure the Marstens were protected.

Gwyn lingered a moment longer, scanning the melee to see if she could spy Baelon, or Dyana, out there.

Please have more sense than that...

+2 Peace

[Nathaniel Mason]

Remember tidbits of information to cow certain people out of the fight.
[url=Cunning (Memory)][/url]: 4d6 10

Encourage peace between the combatants.
[url=Persuade (Convince) TN 12][/url]: 5d6k4 [url=BoA][/url] +3 17

Nathan sighed. Between the jousts, the melee and the daily sparring you would think they would have had enough of this nonsense.

He quickly concentrated on getting the non-combatant out of the area of danger. He had been in enough bar fights and brothel disputes to know there was nothing much more to be done until these things burned themselves out.

[url=Endurance][/url]: 3d6 +1 12

{OOC: will add something about the prevented injury to one person later. Send me a PM if you are injured. Nathan must be amiable of better to prevent an injury that results from a Fighting roll.]

+2 to Peace Score

[Lady Corrine Marsten]

Corrine had sat in the Wheel Tower, lost in thought, for a long time after Loreia left her, the sound of the churning water filling her ears. She had only vaguely registered others milling about.
But when cries and clashing metal go up on the other side of the wall, she is jolted from her daze.

She stands hurriedly, and rushes out to find a massive brawl in full swing.

Mother have mercy! Not more needless violence!

She strides into their midst, being jostled and knocked violently as she tries to move through the turgid mass of fighting men, desperately calling for calm;


"
Stop fighting, you fools!"
Comes her voice, strained and afraid, but loud and clear. "
Whatever your quarrel, let us resolve it peacefully! You don't have to-"


She stops suddenly, her body snapping to one side, as a Blackwood guardsman misses his intended target, his knife slicing into her side. As he tumbles to the ground, felled by another, his grip releases. The lack of pressure against the knife stops it from driving in deeper, but the downward drag of the man's limp hand causes the tip of the blade to tear open the skin of her hip, and more lightly cut a line down part of her flank and outer thigh through her cloak and dress. Despite the relative shallowness of the wound, the pain is sharp, and she looks down to see bright blood welling abundantly from it. The sight makes her light-headed, and she sinks down onto the ground, her eyes wide and her breathing short as shock grips her.

She cannot even muster a scream, lying helpless on the ground, whimpering, feeling a chill upon her as she watches boots running past her swimming field of vision.

[url=Cunning][/url]: 2d6 7
[url=Fighting][/url]: 3d6 8
[url=Persuasion - Charm][/url]: 6d6k5 18 (+1 to Peace)
[url=Endurance][/url]: 2d6 4

[Kevan Lyras]

Waking up from his nightmare, Kevan leaves his tent to look after the cause for the brawls going on. Just as he steps out, he gets attacked by a drunken men at arm, his coat of arm too dirty to identify his lord. "
Ah it is that Marsten Nogooder, let me teach you a lesson!"
He swings his fists at surprised Kevan who barely manages to dodge the incoming blow. He catches the drunken attacker and uses his own momentum to throw him out of the encampment into a ditch. "
Get lost boy, I aint got no time for this"
. He turns around and sees Dyana organising the Marsten guardsmen.
"
Dyana, thanks to the Seven you were here earlier to organise our men! I'll go look after the Lyras soldiers and ensure they do not get involved in any fights. Could you check on the Kriegar men?"

He steps away, looking for soldiers with the Lyras sun embroiled on their chest. "
Lachlan! Get your men in line! If I see one of y'all inciting any fights tonight, he'll sleep in a cell once we are back home, understood?"


Rolls
[url=Cunning (G&
B)][/url]: 3d6-1 9
[url=Fighting (G&
B)][/url]: 5d6-1 15 -->
+2 to War score, +1 to Black
[url=Convince (G&
D)][/url]: 5d6k4+1 17 +1 from cunning = 18 -->
+1 to Peace score
[url=Endurance (G&
B)][/url]: 3d6-1 9

[Baelon Drakeson]

Seeing his father in the crowd attempting to keep the peace, Baelon wades in himself to do the same.

Forcing his way between two brawling men, one of them grabs a nearby clay pitcher of water and swings it at Baelon's head. He manages to get is arm up in time to intercept it, but it shatters against his arm and a shard slices across his forehead, leaving a shallow but bloody gash. The man spits in his face, and says "
If I'd brought my sword I'd gut you where you stand, you whoreson dog, bet you like sniffin' up the arse of your father's black bitch, don'tcha?"
To which Baelon replies with naught but a swift jab to the man' face, knocking him out cold.

[url=Fighting(Brawling)][/url]: 5d6-1 18 vs. TN 9 (2 DoS) +1 Black score, +2 War

A cheer goes up form some of the black supporters in the brawl, but Baelon cuts it short. "
Alright, that's enough. Come on now, settle down! You're all better than this! Step back and cool off. Everyone just go back to your rooms and tents, and let's forget that any of this happened. Let's just treat it like a bad dream."


[url=Encourage Peace, Persuasion(charm)][/url]: 6d6+2-1 19 1d6 3 1d6 5 ->
25 vs. TN 12 (3 DoS) +1 Peace

Mention of a dream triggers a flash of memory, but Baelon's not really sure what it is that he's remembering - it leaves him with a feeling of dread and a wave of exhaustion. Leaning against a wall, he waves off someone waving bandages in his face. He wasn't hurt bad enough to need it, and no doubt others were.

[url=Endurance(resilience)][/url]: 3d6 11 -1 (Fatigue) ->
10 vs TN 12 (0 DoS, non-critical fail)

EDIT: depending on what I have left after the melee, I might spend a DP on one of these rolls... they've all got low dice that could be improved.

[Benedict Marsten]

After checking on the discord outside his tent Ben pulls on his cloak and grabs his sword. "
Stay put. Take this."
He hands Ellie his dagger. "
If someone enters hide. This will blow over shortly."


Ellie does not protest, but collects the dagger in her tiny hands. Then she nods shrinking back into the chair.

Exiting the tent Ben pushes past the Tullison men grumbling about the camp. The building tension all around only fuels the anger pulsing in him from the dream. His left hand carrying his sword in it's scabbard flexes anxiously. He takes a circuitous path to the Marsten tents, hoping to avoid incident.

Then it happens as he skirts the Coldbrook camp he sees, the bastard, attempting to contain a quarrel amongst some men. His hand squeezes tight to the scabbard as he approaches, his body not heeding his brains shouts to avoid him. He approaches him at a fast pace.

The bastard laughs as he sees Ben approach. He opens his mouth to speak, surely something inappropriate, but is cut short as Ben's right fist seals the opening. The bastard reels back into the mud from the blow, blood spraying from his mouth.

"
If you wish to swim with the sharks, act like one. Get some fucking manners and for the gods sake be more discreet or the next man may run you through."
Ben does not pause in the slightest, but continues on, his hand now on his hilt daring someone to move as he passes.

A younger lad reeking of ale steps out behind Ben as he passes his sword drawn back to strike...

Continued in Ellie's post.


[url=G&
B Cunning TN9][/url]: 3d6 12 1DoS
[url=G&
B Fighting TN9][/url]: 5d6 18+1 Cunning =19 3DoS
[url=G&
B Peace Persuasion TN12][/url]: 3d6 12 1DoS
[url=G&
B Endurance TN12][/url]: 3d6+2 8 0DoS

[Loreia]

Short descriptions, more detailed + roleplay to come.

[url=Brawl][/url]: 4d6 14 -1(injury) 13
War... Just one per participant success, proper.

[url=Healing][/url]: 2d6 7 -1(injury) 6
Loreia botches an attempt to treat an injury, Daveth takes over.

[url=Endurance][/url]: 5d6+2 26 -1(injury) 25
Prevented 3 injuries

[Theomore Tullison]

Theomore found himself in the thick of things, where the congregation was at it's thickest, men eying each other cautiously, and he himself entering their conversations, agreeing and subtly fueling their hate of the others, the world has dragons, and dreams are sometimes true, surely this is what others seek to bring upon us by their mad thirst for power? A quick word here, a slimy reply there, never obvious, always subtle. The first blow is struck by the man next to him, and all things becomes chaos. Seeing that he maybe has bitten off more than he can chew, Theomore slams his fist into one man's stomach so that the reeling allows him to throw a man on his own side straight into the raging battle to create space to get out.

[url=Green vs Black Cunning][/url]: 3d6 11 1 DoS
[url=Green vs Black Brawling][/url]: 4d6 12 1 DoS
[url=Green vs Black deception][/url]: 5d6k4+2 +1 from cunning roll 19 WAR!!!!
[url=Green vs Black endurance][/url]: 3d6 5 blech.



Idly trailing in the tracks of ser, Raff revels in what he sees around him, not quite so subtle as Theomore, his words are as overtly agitating as the other, more vocal members of the group, he does shy a bit away from the combat, unlike ser, he knows when a fight is about to break out, and wisely stays away from the frontline. Though that plan goes a bit awry when ser gets in trouble, though good ol' Theomore has the calmness to get out of the fight rather than staying in it, but someone seems to not like a certain low blow and comes at ser's back with a knife. Good thing Raffie is at hand to deliver a fist to the bastard's throat, and then use the shock to wrangle the knife into the would-be assailant's belly...that should slow him down. Ser need not know, Raff didn't want to be the bleeding hero of the day.

[url=Green vs Black Cunning][/url]: 3d6-1 12 1 DoS
[url=Green vs Black Thievery][/url]: 5d6k4-1 destiny point for bonus die to test die[url=luck reroll][/url] 19 +600SS
[url=Green vs Black Brawling][/url]: 3d6-1 9 1 DoS
[url=Green vs Black deception][/url]: 5d6k4-1 +1 from cunning roll 14 War, glorious war!
[url=Green vs Black endurance][/url]: 3d6-1 14 Hah! Prevents injury to Theo :mrgreen:

Sum: +4 war score, Raff gets 400SS

[Benedict Marsten]

Ellie

Ellie only counted to thirty before she darted from Ben's tent to trail behind him. She tried to stay out of sight and avoid the numerous rumblings taking place.

She watched as Ben detoured towards the Coldbrook camp. She could not make out the men or the type of disturbance. A sliver of shock ran down her spine as saw Ben strike someone down. A tingling fear enveloping her. She hurried forward into the preoccupied crowd. Barely making out the words her brother spoke.

As the man in front of her moved out behind Ben his weapon drawn time begin to slow. Somehow the dagger was in her hands. When the assailants sword rose hers moved forward. Clinching the blade with both hands it pushed easily through his damp clothes. Slowing as it hit the flesh of his thigh and stopping when it met bone.

Time resumed and all at once a shrill childlike scream pierced the air. A warmth covered her hands causing her to pull the blade back. The mans sword clattered to the ground.

Ellie stood frozen, the dagger in her blood covered hands. Tears flooded her eyes. "
Ben, I'm sorry he was going to kill you!"
...

Continued in viewtopic.php?f=67&
t=1251


[url=G&
B cunning TN9][/url]: 4d6 14
[url=G&
B Fighting TN9][/url]: 2d6 8+1Cunning =9 1DoS
[url=G&
B Peace Persuasion TN12][/url]: 5d6 12 drop low die 5d6k4 = 11 +1cunning=1DoS
[url=G&
B Endurance TN12][/url]: 2d6 8
And +2 to above rolls

[Septon Arlyn]

The Septon had found his way to the sept after the chilling dream he had. As he knelt in front of the Crone he lit a candle. "
Please my lady, Find Ser Jon's soul and guide him back to heaven. He was a good man, from what little I knew him, and he does not deserve to be lost in the abyss. Lead his troubled soul back and let the father judge him."


Standing, Septon Arlyn brings his tallow candle to the front of the statue of the father. With a heavy sigh he lights another candle at the Fathers feet. "
Father judge him wisely, as I know you do. Let his great deeds stand for him as testament of his good worth."
Moving in front of the Mother, Septon Arlyn starts again, lighting a candle .

"
Dear Mother, Let your mercy temper any harsh judgments that the father might meet out. Speak kindly of Ser John, for he tried desperately to be a child a mother would be proud of. Give mercy to his killer, let them know that they are not at fault for an accident on the Melee field"


Moving in front of the stranger Arlyn merely lights a candle and inclines his head.

His last stop is in front of the warrior, wielding a sword and standing prominently in a heroic pose, clearly a man of great artistic ability had taken much time to lovingly carve a face so lifelike some would almost expect it to blink. Septon Arlyn lit the candle, knelt, and looked up into that unreal face. Then he spit into that gods face, with the spittle landing in his brow. "
Jon trusted you. He was brought down, not by some enemy in battle, but by a cruel twist of fate you left him to be killed by a dull blade in a Melee ring"
as the Septon launches into his tirade he stands up, not noticing the spittle had coalesced into a tear in the gods eye, slowing winding its way down the god's statue cheek. "
I trusted you to keep these people safe from the horrors of combat, that in this pretend fighting people would be safe, well you failed him, and you failed me."


With that the Septon licked his fingers and quickly snuffed out the candle that was burning. As he did so he hears a crash at the back of the room, turning quickly he sees shadowy figures punch through the door "
what is wrong with you?"
a raspy voice asks. "
This is a sept, they never lock the doors on this thing"


"
Euh"
Says a grating tenor voice "
I always wanted to kick down the door to a Sept before, he he"


"
Well you might have alerted the guards to our doings! "
complained the raspy voice in a harsh whisper.

"
Is there something I can help you gentlemen with?"
Asks Septon Arlyn, moving into the middle of the room so he could not get backed into a corner and could be clearly and visibly unarmed.

"
Ah shit it's that fat Septon"
Remarked the raspy voice, "
That one that stole all that money from me."


"
Duh that's not what I heard."
Said the simpleton. "
I heard he made you a bet that you could not refuse, In fact I heard you were planning on cheating him those silver stags"


"
Yes you Dolt! and that is why we are here to take back some of that money he stole from us out of the Septs box, you know that old fat robed fools just use that money for themselves right?"
He smiles a blood red smile at the Septon "
Ain't that right, one con man to another"


"
I can not speak to what other Septons may or may not do,"
says Septon Arlyn, "
But I can promise you, I do what I can to help the smallfolk, Rudolph."


"
Well lets get out of here, Somewhere else has easier pick'n's"
Says Rudolph to his friend.

"
But you said it is dangerous out there with all that rioting and such.

"
Why don't you two strong men help me gather some of the folk together to stay here with me?"
Asks the Septon Arlyn. "
I'm sure men of your talent would not have any trouble getting some people to safety here, Plus I'm Sure I can work with the Septon here to help compensate you for the risks you will take tonight."


Rudolph gives Septon Arlyn a yellow stare "
And you will not take this to the guardsmen?"


"
I'm sure that they have their hands full with other matters"
Replies Septon Arlyn. "
Besides, any damage that was done to the door can just be docked form that ones pay"
Says the Septon, Gesturing over to Rudolph's companion.

Rudoulph gives an evil grin, "
You have a bargain Septon"
and crossing over to where Septon Arlyn is standing, he gives a firm shake of his hand and streaks off into the night.

[url=Cunning memory test for greens][/url]: 3d6 14 @ DOS for +2 on one roll
[url=Persuade peace][/url]: 6d6k5 23 3 DOS for peace
[url=Endurence test for the greens][/url]: 3d6 10 +2 from cunning test = 12 = 1 DOS = 1 injury adverted

Conequences;

1 injury adverted
3 DOS for peace

[Benedict Marsten]

Ben and Ellie's combined post moved to viewtopic.php?f=67&
t=1251

[Loreia]

Roleplay: Brawling + Healing botch + 1 injury prevented
Loreia strolls through the Grand Hall, sticking to the light. The dream she had is fading from recent memory, but her superstition keeps her up, and apprehensive of having to face the unsettling dreams again. Wishing for the full protection of her faith, she visits the godswood to pray before the weirwood.

While meditating at the weirwood, she hears a distinct sound of a scuffle further in, and decides to investigate. Panicked groans originate from two squires, begging while being beaten by three disgruntled Bracken men.

"
What's this bloody racket!?"
When Loreia sees the beaten squires, her hand goes right to the hilt of her weapon.

"
You'll mind your own business if you know what's good for you, bitch,"
says the talker. "
Ah-ah, watch your hand, luv. Wouldn't look good for Lord Coldbrook if we have to put down one of his uppity wenches, eh?"


She takes her hand away. "
No, wouldn't want that. Not if I'm too much trouble for you."


One of them stands back, confident that two of them will be able to handle her. Taking on two enemies unarmed might make for a pretty song, but it's more of a mess in practice. Loreia fumbles in a tussle with them, fighting as dirty as her solo disadvantage will allow. She manages to slug one down and put the other on his back after the idle Bracken joined, taking advantage of the work done by his fellows. He has her by the throat, about to bend her arm the wrong way when one of the squires gets brave and kicks his leg in from behind. She turns the tables on him, leaving a busted lip and a bruised cheek to remember her.

"
Are you done, or should I finish you off?"


They slink away from the scene to lick their wounds, and Loreia checks up on the squires.

"
I'm alright, m'lady,"
says the helper. His friend groans, trying to get up and failing. "
I think they broke a rib, bastards."


"
Those were Bracken boys. Who are you? What house do you serve?"
she asks, trying to help the squire on the ground. What did Daveth say about setting ribs? Come on, think...

"
We're squires in House Marsten,"
he answers. "
They must be mad about that business with Lady Sofia. Gordy here placed high in the--"


Before he can finish with "
squire's melee"
, Gordy cuts him off with a pained wail as Loreia tries and fails to set his broken rib. He kneels beside him and tries to calm him.

"
You've helped us a lot already, truly. Could you uhm, fetch a maester?"


Loreia hesitates and backs up, a little embarrassed by her enthusiasm. "
Oh, sure. I'll find someone who can help with...that."
Walking off at a brisk pace, she mutters, "
Daveth better not be too far off..."


*If you want, per contest rules, I can join that brawl at the wheel tower in time to prevent Corrine's injury. My fight in the godswood could be a localized, isolated incident. I could catch the blade just before Ben and Ellie arrive, so he can still have his "
RAAAWGH"
moment.*

[Lady Corrine Marsten]

[ooc: I'm ok with Corrine getting injured, since I kinda wanted her to get into peril, and it'll only have a -1d mechanical effect for a short while (couple of weeks IC time, OOC effectively D9), but if you want to jump in and be heroic, I can make it a more minor wound (perhaps just a small flesh wound). She is autohaemophobic (not sure if that's the right word. Basically faints at the sight of her own blood), so she'd be passing out from a smaller cut anyway as soon as she sees the blood.]

[Dunstan Tullison]

wip

[url=Fighting (Brawling)][/url]: 4d6 18 - 1= 17
[url=Persuasion (war)][/url]: 3d6 10 - 1 = 9
[url=Healing][/url]: 2d6 6 - 1 = 5
[url=Endurance][/url]: 3d6 10-1 = 9

[Daveth Coldbrook]

[url=Sensitive Stomach (Custom Drawback) (TN9)][/url]: 3d6-1 10 (WooHoo! Penalties avoided.)
[url=G&
B Cunning (Memory) (TN9)][/url]: 4d6-1 13 1 DoS
[url=G&
B Tend the Injured (TN12)][/url]: 4d6k3-1 15
[url=G&
B Endurance Roll (TN12)][/url]: 2d6-1 4 (Eeep! Loreia, help!)

RP &
who to gain favour of (and if I spend DP to increase Healing result to 17 to have more options) to come.

[Nathaniel Mason]

I can use my roll to prevent your injury, Daveth. Since my RP requirement was that I must be amiable and the person was not involved in the Brawl.

Assume I pull you out of the way of a wild strike at an opportune moment.

[Loreia]

OOC: Loreia hasn't really met Nathan yet, so I'd like to be involved. I'm on my way to find Daveth, who was there for that debacle with Garret("
the bastard"
in Ben's post). As he's leaving to find Garret who's taken off, he blunders into another fight. Someone decides to attack him, believing him to be a Coldbrook squire, and Nathan gets to play the hero. I show up at their safe spot and addressing him briefly to thank him, and then Daveth points me in the direction of Benedict. Perhaps the Status 4 injured person Daveth gets to treat happens to be in the same place Nathan brings him to.

[Nathaniel Mason]

[OOC: Sure. I will let Daveth decide the circumstances.]

[Derrock Swann]

[url=Greens &
Blacks - Cunning (Memory)][/url]: 3d6-1 9 - 1 DoS
[url=Greens &
Blacks - Fighting (Brawling)][/url]: 5d6-1 23 - 3 DoS
[url=Greens &
Blacks - Persuade (Charm)][/url]: 5d6-1 19 - 2 DoS
[url=Greens &
Blacks - Endurance (Resilience)][/url]: 4d6-1 7 - applying Cunning bonus here to prevent my injury, so 8.
Total +1 to War, and I believe the highest Brawling result.

Arriving at the outskirts of the mayhem with naught but the clothes on his back, Ser Derrock is initially taken aback by the hassle and chaos. Uneasily he approaches the fighting crowd, pulling back his hood and calling out with pleading hands. "
What is going on here? Stop this madness!"


A man is sent backwards, reeling, by another man's jab, right towards Derrock. He manages to catch him mid-fall and help the man to his feet. "
What is happening, son?"
The knight asks in a troubled voice, but the burly youngster merely looks at him, wide-eyed and with a broken nose, and scurries off to rejoin the fight.

Narrowly avoiding being hit by a soaring jar, he steps forward, deeper into the mess, still appealing to those around him. "
Stop! What are you doin- Stop this!"
He tries to separate another pair of fighters, but they almost punch him as they grapple each other and topple to the ground. Fraught with disbelief, the knight still continues walking aimlessly and asking for peace when he sees a young woman, likely a wench or mayhaps a whore, being stabbed in the guts by some rioter. He stares at the scene for a moment that seemed to stretch endlessly, and right then a man hits him in the face while growling something about 'green filth'.

Something snaps within Derrock, then. The old knight looks askance at the man who'd punched him, a tall henchman in leather, already stepping closer to deliver more of his punishment. Ser Derrock gives up trying to make these people listen to reason entirely, then, and makes way for the Aurochs.

With a war scream that came from nowhere, he rises back from his doubled-over position with a haymaker straight at his assailant's jaw. The man begins to crumble after a sickening crunch, but the old warrior takes hold of him and tosses the man to the side, where he falls over another one of the brawlers. He punches a second rioter into submission, and brings his knee up against the stomach of a third before crashing his elbow on the back of his neck. He opens a path through the crowd, straight for the woman who'd been stabbed.

She was dead, already, and through her bloody rags he could see not one, but three dagger wounds. Rage began to take over the reasonable Swann, then, and it took less than a moment's looking about to spot the shifty man who'd brought a knife to a brawl. When Derrock started to charge at him, a small space moved with and around him, the fighters nearby wary of approaching now that they could see age did not much diminish the danger of facing the Aurochs of the Stormlands.

The murderer waited for him with snarling teeth, and was quick to thrust his weapon at the knight. It barely prickled against his chest's skin, drawing a bead of blood, before his arm was seized by the old warrior. Staring in fury at his prey, Derrock pushed his knife-arm back, bending it to the side until his wrist was broken. The dagger fell to the ground, and before the man, moaning in pain, could reach it with his good hand, the Aurochs stepped on the weapon and brought a fist down hard against the killer's temple. Rioters nearby slowly backed away as Derrock kicked against the unarmed coward, ignoring his pleads for mercy.

[Reader]

[OOC: as Ser Derrock only just came back, both he and our 2nd highest scorer will earn the bonus brawling rank]

[Reader]

[OOC:

a few people still to report in - they can still win prizes, but don't deny prizes to the early birds.

A convincing victory for "
War"
over "
Peace"
, as participants went for brawling rolls!

- Daveth Coldbrook tends the injured: +1 glory, a favour from an NPC with Status <
=4
- Theomore Tullison incites the trouble: +1 glory (infamy?)
- Ser Derrock Swann fight bravely: +1 glory, 1B Brawling, +1 Green Score
- Ser Benedict Blackthorne fights bravely: +1 glory, 1B Brawling,
- Ser Baelon Waters attempts to restrain the rioters: +1 glory
- Yoren Longshore steals 200ss
- Raf steals 600ss

Please let me know if I've missed anything!]

[Theomore Tullison]

It's 200SS Per DoS

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