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Kath · 06-24-2014, 01:42 PM

The Inn was quiet. Kath was polishing the bar, and Agan sat on a stool counting pennies meticulously.

“Did you see the black cloth sticking out from beneath that one person's cloak?” Agan asked. “Surely a brother of the Night's Watch on the run.”

“Or on an errand to the south,” Kath retorted. “Anyway it's not just the Night's Watch who wear black. I served beer – well, several beers actually – to somebody with amazingly violet eyes. If I didn't know better I could've sworn they were a Targaryen's eyes.”

“You've never seen a Targaryen. And they've died out. Puff. All gone, and a good thing that is. We don't need any more Mad Kings.”

“I’m not sure that a Mad King wouldn’t be better than a Lannister on the throne. I am sure I saw crimson and gold underneath some of those dark cloaks.”

Agan shuddered at the very thought of lions in her bar and peered closely at the money she was counting. She couldn’t see anything gold, but that was no real comfort.

“And better violet eyes than glowing blue.” Kath continued. “I’ve heard tales of those walkers in the North, the Night’s Watch bring strange stories in return for a drink.”

“Never mind mysterious tales from north of the Wall,” Agan interrupted. “I’ve a better story from right here in the Inn!”

Kath’s eyes glinted with interest and she leant forwards on the bar, hand under her chin, ready to listen.

“You saw those two; the big and hairy bloke and the fair-haired girl? They came in separately and sat separately but exchanged lovesick glances all evening.”

“Oh, those two! They both seemed really upset about getting beds in gender-specific dorms!” Kath exclaimed. “I rather think we are seeing a tryst here. Not that it's anything special! I wonder if they'll sneak out.”

“Do lock the door, Kath, and hide the key in its usual place! The times being what they are, we don't want any negligent lovers to leave our door open for sellswords and robbers.”

“Yes yes,” Kath said and dug the large key out of her pocket.

“I'll go bar the kitchen door,” Agan said

Heading off in different directions, the two dwarves had no chance against the evils that were about to befall them. As Agan marched off toward the kitchen, three shadows slid down the stairs and followed her trail. As Kath turned her back on the room to lock the heavy wooden door, a faint whisper, as if of hair moving in a breeze, made her turn back.

“Agan?” She called, uncertain.

There was no reply.

She hid the key and pocketed the coins Agan had left on the table. She flicked crumbs from the table idly and shifted her weight, and wondered what was keeping Agan. Then she followed her. What she saw in the kitchen made her gag. There was Agan, crumpled on the floor and covered in blood. Her throat had been slit neatly, and there were gashes and cuts all over her body. She was still breathing shallowly, but as Kath rushed to embrace her, the tears in her eyes blurring her vision, she sighed once and was still.

“Oh, they will pay for this, they will!” Kath snarled, and made for the axe behind the bar. Her tiny footprints mixed with the traces of huge paws on the bloody floor.

Even through her furious tears, something about those pawprints caught Kath’s attention. The tracks were crossed and muddled, yet there was something different. Kath bent closer to the floor, to one print in particular. Surely those others were the marks of some great cat but this one, this one was … a bear?
As though thinking of the creature conjured it before her, a great paw scythed through the air above Kath’s head. Before she could do much as scream, claws gored into her back, stabbing through her heart. Blood bubbling from her mouth, she too collapsed to the ground and was still.

~ ~ ~

As the patrons woke up gradually, they realised something was wrong. The Inn was chilly, and there was no smell of cooking. When Kitanna got downstairs, Eönwë and Inzil were already there.

“The fire hasn't been lit,” pointed out Eönwë.

“It looks like our hostesses are sleeping late this morning,” said Inzil.

“I'll take the liberty to pour myself a beer then,” Kitanna said.

A short time later, Encai pranced downstairs, followed by wilwa and Boro.

“Where are Agan and Kath?” she asked.

“Let's go look for them,” said Boro, “I want my breakfast.”

“I believe their room is in the second floor,” said wilwa.

On the stairs Boro and wilwa ran into Lottie and Nerwen, and together they proceeded to Agan and Kath's door. Lottie knocked but there was no reply, and Nerwen pushed the door open. The room was empty, the bed unslept-in.

“Something must be wrong,” Lottie said.

“They wouldn't just have left,” Nerwen agreed. Suddenly there came a cry from downstairs. G55 was standing at the kitchen floor, looking pale.

“I think... I think I've found them,” she whispered.

Greenie and WythDryden came through the doorway, having been alerted by G55’s scream.

“By all the gods,” Greenie whispered, “who could have done this?”

“Not who,” WythDryden replied, “but what.”

“He’s right!” Eomer’s voice called from the main room. As the others made their way back to him, they saw that he was pointing down at the ground, where bloodied prints were still clearly marked.

“Are those … lion prints?” Rikae asked.

“And bear prints.” Mac added after a closer inspection.

Cop, face peering through the mounds of shawls that surrounded her, nodded with a sad sigh.

“To think, two peaceful creatures murdered as we slept. It’s despicable.”

“How did they get in though – or out?” asked Nogrod. “The front door is locked, and so is the back door. I can't find the key. And the windows are too small!”

“Maybe they didn't get out. Maybe they're still here with us,” said Volo ominously to the quiet room.

“Oi! Is this a torn Lannister cloak I see?” Gil cried suddenly from a corner in his Braavosi accent, holding up a piece of crimson fabric with a lion clearly stitched on it in golden thread. “Do we have traitors in our midst?”

“I am afraid all the signs point to what Gil just said being true. There are murderers here,” sally concluded.

“And we cannot get out,” said skip, hitting the door. The lock rattled but the door didn't budge. The patrons fell silent, the realisation of their bleak situation dawning upon them. The silence was only broken by a voice from the middle of the stairs:

“What's this commotion?” asked Lommy, sleepy-eyed and smiling, “and what's for breakfast?”

~ ~ ~

DAY 1 HAS BEGUN
VILLAGERS – DISCUSS YOUR WOES!

Dead:
Agan
Kath

Alive:
Eönwë - house Royce
Inziladun - house Tully
Kitanna - illiterate peasant
Encaitare - random peasant
Thinlómien - house (Stannis) Baratheon
wilwarin538 - house Mormont
Boromir88 - house Bolton
Loslote - illiterate Tyrell cousin
Nerwen - house Martell
Galadriel55 - wildling
A Little Green - house Reed
WythDryden - house Martell
Eomer of the Rohirrim - house Stark
Rikae - house Tarth
Macalaure - house Connington
Coppermirror - crazy Northern hermit
Nogrod - house Swann
Colin "Volo" Mute - house (Euron) Greyjoy
Gil-Galad - First Baker of Braavos
satansaloser2005 - random peasant
skip spence - ex-Lannister Imp

06-24-2014, 01:42 PM	#2
Kath Everlasting Whiteness Join Date: Jan 2004 Location: Perusing the laminated book of dreams Posts: 4,533	The Inn was quiet. Kath was polishing the bar, and Agan sat on a stool counting pennies meticulously. “Did you see the black cloth sticking out from beneath that one person's cloak?” Agan asked. “Surely a brother of the Night's Watch on the run.” “Or on an errand to the south,” Kath retorted. “Anyway it's not just the Night's Watch who wear black. I served beer – well, several beers actually – to somebody with amazingly violet eyes. If I didn't know better I could've sworn they were a Targaryen's eyes.” “You've never seen a Targaryen. And they've died out. Puff. All gone, and a good thing that is. We don't need any more Mad Kings.” “I’m not sure that a Mad King wouldn’t be better than a Lannister on the throne. I am sure I saw crimson and gold underneath some of those dark cloaks.” Agan shuddered at the very thought of lions in her bar and peered closely at the money she was counting. She couldn’t see anything gold, but that was no real comfort. “And better violet eyes than glowing blue.” Kath continued. “I’ve heard tales of those walkers in the North, the Night’s Watch bring strange stories in return for a drink.” “Never mind mysterious tales from north of the Wall,” Agan interrupted. “I’ve a better story from right here in the Inn!” Kath’s eyes glinted with interest and she leant forwards on the bar, hand under her chin, ready to listen. “You saw those two; the big and hairy bloke and the fair-haired girl? They came in separately and sat separately but exchanged lovesick glances all evening.” “Oh, those two! They both seemed really upset about getting beds in gender-specific dorms!” Kath exclaimed. “I rather think we are seeing a tryst here. Not that it's anything special! I wonder if they'll sneak out.” “Do lock the door, Kath, and hide the key in its usual place! The times being what they are, we don't want any negligent lovers to leave our door open for sellswords and robbers.” “Yes yes,” Kath said and dug the large key out of her pocket. “I'll go bar the kitchen door,” Agan said Heading off in different directions, the two dwarves had no chance against the evils that were about to befall them. As Agan marched off toward the kitchen, three shadows slid down the stairs and followed her trail. As Kath turned her back on the room to lock the heavy wooden door, a faint whisper, as if of hair moving in a breeze, made her turn back. “Agan?” She called, uncertain. There was no reply. She hid the key and pocketed the coins Agan had left on the table. She flicked crumbs from the table idly and shifted her weight, and wondered what was keeping Agan. Then she followed her. What she saw in the kitchen made her gag. There was Agan, crumpled on the floor and covered in blood. Her throat had been slit neatly, and there were gashes and cuts all over her body. She was still breathing shallowly, but as Kath rushed to embrace her, the tears in her eyes blurring her vision, she sighed once and was still. “Oh, they will pay for this, they will!” Kath snarled, and made for the axe behind the bar. Her tiny footprints mixed with the traces of huge paws on the bloody floor. Even through her furious tears, something about those pawprints caught Kath’s attention. The tracks were crossed and muddled, yet there was something different. Kath bent closer to the floor, to one print in particular. Surely those others were the marks of some great cat but this one, this one was … a bear? As though thinking of the creature conjured it before her, a great paw scythed through the air above Kath’s head. Before she could do much as scream, claws gored into her back, stabbing through her heart. Blood bubbling from her mouth, she too collapsed to the ground and was still. ~ ~ ~ As the patrons woke up gradually, they realised something was wrong. The Inn was chilly, and there was no smell of cooking. When Kitanna got downstairs, Eönwë and Inzil were already there. “The fire hasn't been lit,” pointed out Eönwë. “It looks like our hostesses are sleeping late this morning,” said Inzil. “I'll take the liberty to pour myself a beer then,” Kitanna said. A short time later, Encai pranced downstairs, followed by wilwa and Boro. “Where are Agan and Kath?” she asked. “Let's go look for them,” said Boro, “I want my breakfast.” “I believe their room is in the second floor,” said wilwa. On the stairs Boro and wilwa ran into Lottie and Nerwen, and together they proceeded to Agan and Kath's door. Lottie knocked but there was no reply, and Nerwen pushed the door open. The room was empty, the bed unslept-in. “Something must be wrong,” Lottie said. “They wouldn't just have left,” Nerwen agreed. Suddenly there came a cry from downstairs. G55 was standing at the kitchen floor, looking pale. “I think... I think I've found them,” she whispered. Greenie and WythDryden came through the doorway, having been alerted by G55’s scream. “By all the gods,” Greenie whispered, “who could have done this?” “Not who,” WythDryden replied, “but what.” “He’s right!” Eomer’s voice called from the main room. As the others made their way back to him, they saw that he was pointing down at the ground, where bloodied prints were still clearly marked. “Are those … lion prints?” Rikae asked. “And bear prints.” Mac added after a closer inspection. Cop, face peering through the mounds of shawls that surrounded her, nodded with a sad sigh. “To think, two peaceful creatures murdered as we slept. It’s despicable.” “How did they get in though – or out?” asked Nogrod. “The front door is locked, and so is the back door. I can't find the key. And the windows are too small!” “Maybe they didn't get out. Maybe they're still here with us,” said Volo ominously to the quiet room. “Oi! Is this a torn Lannister cloak I see?” Gil cried suddenly from a corner in his Braavosi accent, holding up a piece of crimson fabric with a lion clearly stitched on it in golden thread. “Do we have traitors in our midst?” “I am afraid all the signs point to what Gil just said being true. There are murderers here,” sally concluded. “And we cannot get out,” said skip, hitting the door. The lock rattled but the door didn't budge. The patrons fell silent, the realisation of their bleak situation dawning upon them. The silence was only broken by a voice from the middle of the stairs: “What's this commotion?” asked Lommy, sleepy-eyed and smiling, “and what's for breakfast?” ~ ~ ~ DAY 1 HAS BEGUN VILLAGERS – DISCUSS YOUR WOES! Dead: Agan Kath Alive: Eönwë - house Royce Inziladun - house Tully Kitanna - illiterate peasant Encaitare - random peasant Thinlómien - house (Stannis) Baratheon wilwarin538 - house Mormont Boromir88 - house Bolton Loslote - illiterate Tyrell cousin Nerwen - house Martell Galadriel55 - wildling A Little Green - house Reed WythDryden - house Martell Eomer of the Rohirrim - house Stark Rikae - house Tarth Macalaure - house Connington Coppermirror - crazy Northern hermit Nogrod - house Swann Colin "Volo" Mute - house (Euron) Greyjoy Gil-Galad - First Baker of Braavos satansaloser2005 - random peasant skip spence - ex-Lannister Imp __________________ “If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world.” Last edited by Kath; 06-24-2014 at 03:27 PM.