--
He found him fast asleep in his down-filled bed, an open bottle of wine standing alone among several previously opened and drained bottles that were scattered across a lopsided table next to the bed.
This was Samwell Hastings, in all of his glory.
Second Lieutenet Hastings was a tall and burly man, his height nearly surpassing that of his king, and he was the greatest of archers that King Rory had ever known is his lifetime. There were many legends around great and challenging feats that Hastings had apparently done, most of which weren't true, yet the man retained no sort of an ego. He cared not to be viewed as the hero he truly was. He respected Hastings as much as he did Phelix, even though Hastings had a drinking problem.
"So, this is the glory of the Blackpond military?"
The man immediately jolted awake, sending the empty glass bottle that was in his hand skittering across the floor. He flaild about madly, trying to identify the speaker and pass off that he wasn't asleep. His demeanor changed when his eyes fell upon King Rory.
"I've told you many a time before, Hastings, I will not have any man drinking like this while on duty.."
Hastings' expression dimmed even more,
"And not offer any of it to me!"
Immediately both men smiled and laughed.
Rory patted Hastings on the shoulder as he sat down next to him, smoothing out his cloak so it wouldn't bunch up as he did so.
"Hastings, I need you to gather up a battalion of good and hardy men, with three or four squads of spears for backup and frontline troops. There is a Newhaven encampment just outside of town, near the edge of the forest, I believe, and I expect you to lead the assault in the morning."
"B-but my lord, it will take until morning just to equip the troops, let alone-"
"Mr. Hastings, do you defy my orders so openly? You will have my troops ready by morning that is fi-"
He was interrupted by the infamous black suited man that now stood behind him in the dooway, staring at the two men with an almost ghostly demeanor. Again, he held a note, this time it was neither formally addressed nor signed.
Rory sighed and stood back up, shooing off the man in black. He turned once again to face Hastings,
"By morning, Mr. Hastings." And with that, he was off again, heading towards the opposite end of the long hallway.