Death

In an old tavern along the round roads within the drunk streets of Meredith, a man had gotten too much to drink for himself.

"Fuck the king! Fuck his daughter! That little bitch has put us in war, and yet she sits behind that beautiful mansion as we march forth to fight!"

"Seeing that you're right in here drinking away your life, I can guess you didn't volunteer to fight for the king." Replied the woman who traded them their drinks from behind the bar where she stood.

She had short hair and fast working hands. And as her daughter poured more wine for the rambling man, she cautioned. "That is enough, Brienne. Georje has had too much already. If he loses his head for his words, his blood would be on you."

But Georje was not ready to quit his wine. "Hey woman! So what if I don't march to war? My brother has gone to fight! And he is a fine warrior! In my case, war is not my talent. I fare better when I sit around and drink away my life. Now pour me some more wine, child!"

But the woman wo
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