Darkness grew upon the hall.
One of the servants slowly began lighting the many candles that were placed around with no discernible pattern, with their holders were far more impressive and valuable than anything else in the room. The large bricks of the wall were damp and the ceiling was dripping, it certainly was not a hall fit to host the kind of meeting its owner desired, despite the long table that occupied its centre.
As each additional flame appeared, the faces of its inhabitants became visible. At the head of the table sat a grimacing man with silver hair. He went by the name Lord Richard Scudamore, and for the first time in a long time he was content.
"Henry," He purred and gestured to an empty chair. "Any word from our seventh?"
"No m'lord," Henry Winter responded. "Still nothing since last month."
This was not an answer that pleased Lord Richard, but it didn't dampen his mood. His gaze did not leave Henry straight away. It lingered long enough to make sure Henry was aware of his disappointment. Henry Winter was in charge of the organisation's propaganda and news. Sat opposite him was his cousin, Jeff, who was responsible for law and order.
Three more seats were occupied in the room. Ser Nicolas Anelka, El Hadji Diouf and Gary Cahill, three of the most expensive sellswords in the land were sat at the far end of the table, away from the other three. Lord Richard exhaled loudly.
"We had planned to wait for his signal," Lord Richard said with a hint of frustration. "But another day in this crumbling heap is more than I can take."
"We'll need to settle on a name then." Henry spoke with conviction, which he immediately regretted.
"The Magnificent Seven?" Jeff chimed in.
"No." Lord Richard barked.
"The Secret Seven?" Jeff queried, misunderstanding Lord Richard's tone.
"No, we don't need a name!" Lord Richard snapped.
An awkward silence filled the hall. Even Gary Cahill, who had been carving 'GC + JT 4EVA' into the side of the table, stopped to pay attention. Lord Richard stood up abruptly, knocking his chair over. He began pacing at his end of the table.
"Ser Nicolas, how many days travel?" Lord Richard bellowed across the hall.
"Three, m'lord." Ser Nicolas retorted in a huff.
"And are the Knight's Watch in position?" Lord Richard asked.
"Yes," Ser Nicolas said. "We received another raven this morning, they have successfully captured Ser Kevin Nolan and his squire as per your orders m'lord."
This news put a big grin on Lord Richard's face. He knew his plan would be far more likely to succeed with a soldier of Ser Kevin's calibre out of the way. He'd attempted this plan once before, but Ser Kevin had easily defeated his army that day. But now, with the Knight's Watch swelling the numbers, he suspected this might be the best opportunity in years. The excitement couldn't be held in any longer.
"Pack your bags and kiss your children goodbye then lads," Lord Richard ordered. "We're off to the Macronfort."