The skies above were blue and cloudless as John Fox rode down a well established road alongside the swift flowing White Knife river. There was a chill in the air, carried by the winds coming out of the north as he wrapped himself tighter in his cloak. His horse, Fleetfoot, seemed not to mind however, still happy about being on solid ground again. The creature had been in a foul mood thru the entire ferry crossing; now many miles further upstream. He had bit one handler that was unfortunate to get too close to him. Other travelers were becoming more frequent as he got closer to White Harbor. Mostly farmers taking their harvest to market.
John had been a free rider to House Manderly for three years now. His rangings had taken him from the shores of White Harbor, north along the coast to Widow's Watch and the lands in-between. His latest foray had been to scout the lands inland from the river for any sign of river pirate activity. Even pirates had to get off the river eventually, and that meant setting up camp. Although the lands were generally peaceful, there were always brigands and cut throats plying their often deadly trade in violation of the Kings peace. When these groups were located he would join other free riders, and other local forces in punitive expeditions. Those who resisted died. Afterward those deemed guilty of most serious of crimes would be hanged on the spot. The rest given the option of being sent to The Wall rather then risk the result of a sentence passed by a local magistrate.
He considered himself to be an expert horsemen and an able shot with the bow while mounted. For close in work he could wield a bastard sword just as efficiently. He wore light armour, mostly consisting of boiled leather. Heavier armour was tedious and wore out a horse and rider faster then combat ever would. His helm was made to offer the best protection as well as allowing for the best visibility. It was no good to detect the foe only after he had seen you.
As he finally reached the outskirts of his home, he smiled.
"It's good to be home." He spurred Fleetfoot on, the horse sensing his riders mood.
John had been a free rider to House Manderly for three years now. His rangings had taken him from the shores of White Harbor, north along the coast to Widow's Watch and the lands in-between. His latest foray had been to scout the lands inland from the river for any sign of river pirate activity. Even pirates had to get off the river eventually, and that meant setting up camp. Although the lands were generally peaceful, there were always brigands and cut throats plying their often deadly trade in violation of the Kings peace. When these groups were located he would join other free riders, and other local forces in punitive expeditions. Those who resisted died. Afterward those deemed guilty of most serious of crimes would be hanged on the spot. The rest given the option of being sent to The Wall rather then risk the result of a sentence passed by a local magistrate.
He considered himself to be an expert horsemen and an able shot with the bow while mounted. For close in work he could wield a bastard sword just as efficiently. He wore light armour, mostly consisting of boiled leather. Heavier armour was tedious and wore out a horse and rider faster then combat ever would. His helm was made to offer the best protection as well as allowing for the best visibility. It was no good to detect the foe only after he had seen you.
As he finally reached the outskirts of his home, he smiled.
"It's good to be home." He spurred Fleetfoot on, the horse sensing his riders mood.
