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Post by Euron Drumm on Aug 25, 2012 10:52:12 GMT -5
Euron swaggered into the tavern and demanded ale.
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Post by Euron Drumm on Aug 25, 2012 18:26:40 GMT -5
Euron saw the man look up as he entered.
"Who are you?" He asked.
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Post by Ser Trajan Waters on Aug 26, 2012 2:50:13 GMT -5
Fletcher entered the Drunk Duck and took a seat in a shadowy booth. He tries to visit King's Landing regularly. It was the best way to get a pulse on the state of the Faith and popular opinion regarding the Heretic Brotherhood. It lacked the friends at Chaeyen's and the Bearded Man, but made up for it with Flea Bottom gossip.
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Post by Ser Lewyn Corbray on Aug 26, 2012 11:30:07 GMT -5
Lavinia Martell, wearing a tiny black dress around which she bulged, entered the tavern. She took a look around before sitting down at a table, legs crossed.
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Post by Euron Drumm on Aug 26, 2012 12:56:51 GMT -5
Danilo looked up from his stew and looked at the Ironman in front of him. He sipped down the stew before he answered the man, to give him a name to wouldn't draw too much attention. "Danwell Waters, I am noone special. Simple dockworker. And who are you? In the corner of his eye, Danilo noticed that another man entered the establishment. He was thankful that it was another commoner and not a goldcloak, but then again the goldcloaks probably didn't go to these kinds of establishments. "Euron Drumm, the Drumm of Old Wyk." Euron grinned and grabbed his tankard. "You ever met an Iron captain before?"
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Post by Ser Cedric Tarly on Aug 26, 2012 13:15:14 GMT -5
A rather drunk commoner overheard the Ironborn, and yelled, "An Iron Islander? Fuck on that, I was born in the Riverlands and you are all nothing but scum!" The man spat on the floor, as if to emphasize his point.
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Post by Euron Drumm on Aug 26, 2012 13:17:25 GMT -5
Euron spun around as the man spoke and swaggered over to the speaker's table. He grabbed the front of the man's tunic and lifted him out of his seat.
"Say that again," he snarled.
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Post by Ser Cedric Tarly on Aug 26, 2012 13:20:21 GMT -5
The man would usually back down from the fight, as he was no where near as large as the Ironborn. But, the pints of ale he had been drinking instilled an idiotic courage. "You heard me ye bastard!" Once again, he spat on the floor, but what with Drumm being so close, managed to spit on the reaver's chest.
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Post by Euron Drumm on Aug 26, 2012 13:23:15 GMT -5
Euron took no notice as he pulled the man away from his table and flung him down onto the floor, then kicked him.
"Scum!"
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Post by Ser Cedric Tarly on Aug 26, 2012 13:34:02 GMT -5
The reaver's show of strength scared away an kind of courage the commoner once had. The breath knocked out of him by the hit, he tried to speak. "No.... please... I... didn't.... I didn't..." Trying to push himself away with his feet, he threw his arms over his head in an attempt to protect himself.
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Post by Euron Drumm on Aug 26, 2012 13:38:06 GMT -5
Euron laughed and kicked him in the balls.
"Be thankful I'm feeling merciful. If I weren't, I'd kill you here and now. Or if I were feeling really cruel, I'd take you for my thrall and make you serve as oarsman on my ship."
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Post by Ser Trajan Waters on Aug 26, 2012 13:43:49 GMT -5
Fletcher eyed the scantily clad plump woman with distaste. Trajan had spoken the truth, religion did nothing to stem the tide of corruption. Gluttonous nobles sill thrived, feasting while the commoners starved. This woman flaunted such corruption with her lack or modesty.
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Post by Ser Cedric Tarly on Aug 26, 2012 13:47:12 GMT -5
Doubled over in pain, the commoner tried to stand up. Hunched over and cupping his groin, he looked at the reaver. He looked like he was about to say something, but no words came. The man made his way to the exit of the tavern, hoping he wouldn't be stopped.
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Post by Euron Drumm on Aug 26, 2012 13:52:01 GMT -5
Euron directed a stream of foul curses after the man and then, once he'd gone, he burst out laughing and looked around the room.
"Who else hates the Ironborn?"
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Post by Ser Cedric Tarly on Aug 26, 2012 13:59:44 GMT -5
None of the patrons answered.
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