ASOIAF/GOT: Minecraft in Essos.

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~~~Third Person, Eighth Moon, 277 AC~~~

~~~Hunting Camp, Crakehall~~~

Rickard Stark moved the flap that acted as a door to the tent where Brandon stood. Tywin Lannister had lent the service of his maester to tend to the heir of Winterfell, the same one who was treating Brandon's wounds, who was lying on a bed.

Ned was behind Maester Gordon's back, acting as his shadow and keeping an eye on what he was applying to his older brother, "Lord Rickard", the Maester greeted the man once he entered accompanied by Ser Rodrik.

"Has my son shown improvement, Maester?" Rickard did not even respond to the greeting, but went directly to Brandon's bedside, then grasped his hand firmly.

Ned watched silently, though his father showed no expression, he could see the glint in his eyes, and by the way the corners of his lips pursed, it indicated that his father was worried and fearful. He was too, but unlike his father, he was showing more of his concern.

"He hasn't woken up since the accident," the maester began to explain the situation, "while it's only been a day since the act, he should have reacted by now, his right arm is completely crushed from the shoulder, I'm afraid he won't be able to use a sword or ride again."

Rickard sighed, and his straight facade cracked for an instant, Brandon had nothing he was more passionate about than riding a horse, and now with a useless arm, something like that could never be again. "The bone in his arm came loose and pierced the flesh, he lost a lot of blood, and the impact to his chest was severe, he's got shortness of breath, and several broken ribs, I'm afraid he won't over..."

"Don't you dare say it!" Lord Rickard's serious countenance shattered at the possibility of his son's death, exploding in fury as he watched his son's life slipping away, "You can do more, I know you can, don't they teach them that at the citadel?"

"There is no cure for damage to this magnitude, my lord, my knowledge is not magic, and if lack of blood does not kill him, lack of sustenance will, since he has ingested nothing." It was the maester's sentence, he had cleaned the wounds, anointed Brandon's body with poultices of plants and medicines, and corrected the posture of his broken ribs, but beyond that, he was beyond his power.

"My lord, sorry to interrupt, but a Blood Rider is at the entrance," a northern guard said, entering the tent carefully not to upset his lord further, much more so after hearing his shouts from outside.

Rickard sighed, and his frown became even more pronounced. While he didn't want to leave his son's side, there wasn't much he could do, so without further ado, he began walking towards the exit.

There, he encountered several knights and squires who looked at the enigmatic man with a look of astonishment on their faces, and how could they not marvel at such a sight? The man was over six feet tall, and his armor was beautiful, black all over, the smoky details resembling Valyrian steel made the armor look most pristine.

But it was the helmet, or the protection the man under it wore that grabbed the attention, with a mask with details of a face, with marks in the metal like scratches, which was covered by chain mail, that, added to the huge sword that was strapped to his back. It made him intimidating to a fault.

Rickard might well have been happy to be around one of King Jaesyrian's famous brother-guards, but under the circumstances, he saw the meeting more as a duty than anything else, "Lord Rickard, a pleasure, I am Qrano, I regret the situation your son is facing." Qrano introduced himself, and despite his deep and loud tone of voice, Rickard could hear the sincerity behind the words. "Thank you."

"I can assume you are busy watching over your son, but my Khal has asked me to lead you to him, if you like, we can go now, or later," Qrano explained the reason for his visit, and while Rickard heard it was more his choice of whether to go now or later, he understood that making a king wait was not the best thing to do.

Ned came out of the tent, in time to see his father in front of the Blood Rider, "Alright, let's go," Rickard nodded, with Qrano turning around and mounting his horse, a beautiful war steed. Rickard also mounted his horse, accompanied by Ser Rodrik Cassel and four more soldiers from his house, along with Ned who joined them in a hurry.

"You should have stayed by your brother's side, he may wake up and be alarmed at not seeing a familiar face," Rickard admonished Ned halfway, "I know, but I don't want to see him like that, I don't want that to be the last thing in how he remembers him."

Rickard looked at Ned and a sad smile formed on his face, "I haven't told your mother, but quite possibly she has already spread the word, I will write to her once Brandon's condition improves." Ned continued to ride beside his father with his head down, "what if he doesn't? I mean, he's strong, I know, but the men who were with him say that big ape rammed him and threw him against a tree, it's like he was possessed, he went straight at him... Or so they say, I... I told him not to go, but it's Brandon, what else could I do? Tie him to his bed?"

"He would have gone with or without your warnings, son, don't be sorry about that," Rickard commented, his tone gruff even though he wanted to run to his wife and hug her, "But there is a way, isn't there? I mean, the potions of Xandar, I've heard they are very expensive, but they could be used to cure Brandon, we both saw it when King Jaesyrian used it to cure the boy who rammed another of his beasts, if asked, he can be of help."

"Help, you say, at the cost of what? People with his power don't go about giving favors so easily, and where will we get a thousand gold coins so quickly for one of those things? The much we brought with us was three hundred coins, and much of it has already been spent." Rickard scolded Ned, who lowered his head even further, "I... Sorry."

Rickard looked at Ned and sighed again, at this rate he would get older, "no, it's me who is sorry, I was supposed to be the one to protect them, and now one of my sons is on the verge of death, and the other I scold for looking for a way to save his brother, by the old gods, I need your mother by my side."

Before they knew it, they arrived at the campsite where Azrael was, and the difference showed, the famous Xandarian carriages graced the sight, with their lanterns lighting the way, Dothraki-riding to and fro, Valyrian-looking women walked as they gossiped amongst themselves, and the sound of music and singers could be heard in the distance.

It was a festive atmosphere, a far cry from the storm going on in Rickard's mind and heart.

Qrano efficiently guided them through the crowd, to a calmer place with more guards, in the direction of the largest carriage of all. In front of it, there was a large table, with several chairs spread across it, with lanterns suspended in grooves that provided light since the sun was already setting.

At the table, was Azrael eating with Valka at his side, along with the rest of his Blood Riders, who Rickard, along with his group, could see their faces for the first time, as they were not wearing their characteristic masks, and their chain mail was over their shoulders and not over their heads.

"Ohh, Lord Rickard! Please join in, there's food of all kinds," Azrael greeted Rickard cheerfully the moment he saw him arrive, Qrano, seeing his task done, got off his steed and approached the table to eat alongside his brothers, removing his mask as well and joining in the fun.

Rickard got off his steed, and his companions did the same, "Thank you, King Jaesyrian, I don't mean to sound rude, but, I want to know the reason for your call." The comment made the Blood Riders, who were previously chatting amongst themselves and enjoying the food, become silent and looked at Rickard with serious faces, to them, what Azrael said was not a request, it was an order, and seeing Rickard refuse, annoyed them.

Rickard continued to look at Azrael, Ned, for his part, could not stop looking at the Blood Riders with nervousness, since they had not returned to their food but remained static watching the northern group.

Azrael, for his part, after a few seconds, smiled, "To talk about the hunting bounty, of course." He said as if it was obvious, as he invited Rickard back to the table. But this time more sternly than the previous time. "Will you sit down... My lord?"