It was a day like many other in this rather peaceful place. Admittedly this often made him wonder if indeed the sole reason for him being hired was the putting of the worries the young lord's mother had to a rest. For what provides better security than a man who is armed to the teeth as the saying goes? Well nothing. Also the rather nasty scar below his left eye gave him a bit of a more intimidating apparition which always helped scaring off fools who would even consider hurt young lord Casyr.

Ethelstan didn't think much of the coming tournament in Harrenhal. Such events only meant more work, and as such they could be entertaining... Until one realises that this work entails walking behind a teen boy for entire days on end. At least he'd get to see westerosi knights fight, something which he had not properly witnessed just yet. As for what he thought of this lord Baratheon... Well according to some he was supposed to be quite an impressive warrior. So that could be interesting.

He was observing the bashing that a young squire got from sir Paxton. Interesting how older knights often throw insults at squires when the youngsters fail to do something properly. Wouldn't it be more efficient to just explain the mistake logically? Probably. But from the man he raised him he knew that in Westeros logic is often not the go to option. As he was thinking of all these things he saw Beryl walk through the courtyard. Perhaps this day would be interesting in the end.

The valyrian made his way down onto the courtyard, and approached the quite large man. Truth be told he found it intriguing how someone this large could even be born. For a while now he wanted to see what this giant was capable of doing.


"Good morning Beryl. It seems that sir Paxton's squire isn't quite up for the challenge of facing you. Perhaps a round with me could prove of use? After all, we both need to train, now don't we?" Ethelstan spoke with an accent, one of someone from the east. Being raised in one of the free cities will often do that to a person. His tone was calm and collected, in many ways could be described as cold. Perhaps that was why few folk actually had a proper liking of the valyrian.