He wore his finest plate, heavy steel enameled a deep, dark crimson, with gold inlay on his gauntlets, greaves, and breastplate. The walls are still bare, Jaime observed as the maester led him down a gallery. the more they demand of us. Some days the kindly man led the prayer.
By any name the inn was large, rising three stories above the muddy roads, its walls and turrets and chimneys made of fine white stone that glimmered pale and ghostly against the grey sky. The captain of the Hunrress was a tall man in a smoke-grey cloak with a border of red satin flames. Hardstone is welcome to the both of them, if he likes. How so? You were the one who sent him home, were you not? Someone had to.
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