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|Word Count: 9,501|
The Next Day, Late Morning The Riverlands, Raventree Hall Hadrian Rivers
...
More people had arrived to Blackwood Vale in the early morning, around fifty more from what Hadrian had counted. His father had been quick to put out a notice that Raventree Hall would offer sanctuary to all those in need, especially with the Lannister army closing in from the south while mercenaries raided in the west. The common folk had few choices, either risk going south to lose what little coin they had to 'support' the Lannister war effort or seek out safety with one of the Riverland Houses.
"Yet they're all coming here..." Hadrian muttered, looking over the large camp of refugees that had been flowing in ever since he had returned home. He had been quick to take the lead on organizing relief efforts, ensuring proper tents and supplies were sorted out. Poor planning could lead to illness breaking out and the last thing they needed was hundreds of sickly peasants to manage. It had been tricky to keep everything orderly...though luckily he was patient and persistent in his duties.
Sighing, Hadrian paced his way to the far end of the camp that bordered the front of Raventree Hall itself. There he had vital services set up ranging from a cooking station to hand out food, a medical tent to inspect newcomers along with a guard post were issues could be brought up. Already there was a line up for early lunch rations, people being handed bread and soup as well. It was sad to see whole families huddled together with empty bowls in hand...even more disheartening with children by themselves.
"Come on surely I can get more!" One chubby refugee demanded at the front of the line. "This slop is barely anything. Only worth a gulp or two at least!"
The server, a middle-aged woman shook her head. "I'm sorry but that is the amount everyone gets right now." She politely explained.
"At least extra bread! Half a loaf maybe?" He insisted, making the woman glance nervously around.
Hadrian could see people getting on edge with the line being held up, along with hearing the man's growing demands. At this rate others would start doing the same and risk causing a ration shortage. "Sir, please you have to make do with what you have." He spoke up, drawing the peasant's attention to him.
"What lets you give orders boy?" He snapped, before noticing the fine leather and gray cloth cloak he wore.
"My fath-...Lord Blackwood has appointed me to managing this camp. Thus problems such as this are my responsibility."
The man gave a small grunt. "Then I can say you need to work on the food here. A grown man like me needs a lot after all."
Hadrian held back an annoyed scowl before speaking back. "I understand that, yet you must know that Lord Blackwood is doing the best he can. He's already having the farmers in the valley put out their harvest to support everyone coming here."
