[The hounds had picked up a scent, after days of nothing. Ser Kylo Ren had more than enough of the humidity that clung to the canopy of the Kingswood -- even on horseback, it was utterly unbearable. Heat on its own was never a problem for him, but this? Hang the bloody King for sending him on a wild goose chase.
It wasn't a goose chase, of course, and if asked the right questions, Ser Ren might have even admitted that the King had not really sent him on these errands. He was far beyond his patrol route, and his men knew it (though they knew better than to question him). Judging by the way the hounds bayed and snarled, all of his work would soon be paid off.
(If the information off that intercepted raven was worth its weight.)
Ser Ren urged his horse, a black mare, through the trees as fast as her legs would carry her. The hounds lead the charge, and his knights quickly filled into the perimeter. The baying had incited panic long before his horse had found the camp, but his men never minded a good chase. The two hounds tackled the two sellswords to the ground before they could unsheathe their weapons, and the knights chased off after the rest of the fleeing party.
Meanwhile, Ren dismounted, content to explore what was left behind in the camp. Whomever fled would never be able to outrun a knight on horseback for long -- if the missive was with one of them, they would be caught soon enough. His time was better spent rummaging here.
His armor clanked about as his boots sank into soft earth, nudging bedrolls over and spreading personal effects around in the foliage. One hand stayed on the hilt of his broadsword. Slavers traveled light, save for their cargo -- oddly enough, most of them had been cut loose, which lead him to believe that this wasn't a slave-trading party at all.
And yet...no missive anywhere in sight. Frustrated, he turned to glance off in the direction where the party had been chased, running one gauntlet through his long, black hair--
The snap of a twig somewhere to his left draws his attention, and the sword is pulled free in anticipation.]
no subject
It wasn't a goose chase, of course, and if asked the right questions, Ser Ren might have even admitted that the King had not really sent him on these errands. He was far beyond his patrol route, and his men knew it (though they knew better than to question him). Judging by the way the hounds bayed and snarled, all of his work would soon be paid off.
(If the information off that intercepted raven was worth its weight.)
Ser Ren urged his horse, a black mare, through the trees as fast as her legs would carry her. The hounds lead the charge, and his knights quickly filled into the perimeter. The baying had incited panic long before his horse had found the camp, but his men never minded a good chase. The two hounds tackled the two sellswords to the ground before they could unsheathe their weapons, and the knights chased off after the rest of the fleeing party.
Meanwhile, Ren dismounted, content to explore what was left behind in the camp. Whomever fled would never be able to outrun a knight on horseback for long -- if the missive was with one of them, they would be caught soon enough. His time was better spent rummaging here.
His armor clanked about as his boots sank into soft earth, nudging bedrolls over and spreading personal effects around in the foliage. One hand stayed on the hilt of his broadsword. Slavers traveled light, save for their cargo -- oddly enough, most of them had been cut loose, which lead him to believe that this wasn't a slave-trading party at all.
And yet...no missive anywhere in sight. Frustrated, he turned to glance off in the direction where the party had been chased, running one gauntlet through his long, black hair--
The snap of a twig somewhere to his left draws his attention, and the sword is pulled free in anticipation.]