<div class="floatright">(http://i.imgur.com/ScGSnC0.jpg)</div>"What do you mean they've already left?!" the large man barked menacingly at the castle guards deep within the halls of the Red Keep. The sound boomed, echoing from stone slab to marble arch of the castle as the man's fury, almost palpable in the air, left its mark on the smaller man who appeared almost as small as the Imp as he cringed, especially in comparison to the man's size and width. "I-I-I'm sorry, Lord Clegane," the man quivered, the noise from his shield as it rattled against the metal armor he wore following in the wake of the enraged shouts. "We searched for you, but only found you in your drunken stupor a day after the King had already left, and it's been two days since then since you've been able to walk again!"<br/><br/>"Who you calling a stupor?!" another roar caused the guard to sink deeper into his armor as the bearded man bore down on him, anger in his eyes and grasping fingers outstretched. "I'm s-s-s-sorry, Lord Clegane!" the guardsman shied back, fear apparent in his voice. "Useless. The lot of you," the heavier man said dismissively, though there was still a note of anger in his voice, but it was subsumed by frustration. "Damn, and I after all I'd heard about the fire-heads up in the North from the Imp, too," he muttered under his breath ominously before storming out.<br/><br/>The streets of King's Landing were as they ever were, and while part of him longed for his home, far away, a much larger part wanted nothing more than to vent his frustration at not being able to join the procession up North to Winterfell by beating the stuffing out of some luckless commoner. And so, following that logic, he began to make his way to the seediest tavern in the area with the intent of becoming severely drunk, and perhaps a little bruised afterwards as well.