Felhammer
2016-04-05, 12:53 AM
http://s29.postimg.org/bin455bdv/dark_skies.jpg
The Storm Cometh...
Dark skies have descended upon the lands of Shoen. The black-gray clouds are almost claustrophobic. They oppressively loom over the family. A minor noble, kin to House Shoen, has been kidnapped this day. Attacked by bandits while traveling to Bylea from Lannisport. Instead of taking to the seas - as is tradition for the family - he took to land. Riding his horse hard and fast. Why did fair Seban Seral do this? It was not in his nature to be a thrill seeker or an adventurer. He was always quiet and shy, preferring the lure of the sea, to that of the trade roads. Two of his three armed guards were also killed. Their corpses found by local peasants who were picking berries in the countryside, nearly three hundred paces from the road.
The irony of finding these men in a patch of strawberries was not lost on any assembled in the great room of Shoen Hall. The entire room was festuned with gilded berries, the symbol of the family. In fact, the coat of arms for the House even bore a clutch of freshly picked, ripe strawberries. Indeed, a bowl of the fruit was sitting on the table where the leaders of the family sat and deliberated what to do next. Who had kidnapped Seban Seral, and why? He was not in line of succession and was easily three generations removed from the main branch of the family. The Serals were beloved merchants who lived in Bylea, sure, but they were not immaculately wealth or important. Indeed, no one would really take much note of the family if they were not granted a position or two of prestige within the Hall. Of that, Seban was merely the House Gardener, an honor that had little to do with gardening and far more to do with ensuring the proper fruit was picked at the proper time so as to give the core family a stockpile of sweets to consume after dinner. The position saw Seban travel around the Westerlands and into the Reach when supply ran dry within their native lands. He had been on many such journeys, what was different about this one?
Who would bother with such a minor noble - if he could even be called as such? He was not wealthy enough to justify the risk of kidnapping him for ransom, nor powerful or influential enough to garner a high price.
No, it must be a political maneuver, of some kind. If it was, then who was attacking the House? That truly was the question.
The youthful Septon of the Shoens stood up from the charcoal-colored table that laid at the center of the Great Hall and paced back and forth along its edge. The room was large for a moderately-sized hall such as this but its cozy nature only serves to make the sheer opulence that fills the room to shine that much more brightly. Political jockeying was never his forte, at least when it came to the secular sphere. All had heard of his ruthlessness when it came to matters of faith and his bold adherence - at least publicly - to orthodoxy. "If your ladyship will allow, I ask that we look at other reasons for the boy's absence and his guards' deaths. Perhaps they were waylaid by bandits and are, right here and now , taking refuge in a small thorp or some kind? Drinking some ale and keeping their heads down?"
Kavvin Skinner, the Master of the Hunt, scoffs at such a notion. His demeanor is dark and grim, clearly his own history with seeing his family brought low by sudden, unpredictable events, is coloring his mood. "I disagree with the Septon, my lady. He is a man of faith, he tries to see the best in the world. I know all too well how dark and vile the world can be. I do not wish to think our beloved gardener has been kidnapped - much less murdered - but the possibility remains... We need to be vigilant and ready for anything. Since the death of Lord Montgomery, the rival Houses have sought to harass us, to harangue us, to humiliate us. We are weak in their eyes because we do not have a man at the head of the household."
He pauses for dramatic effect as all eyes shift to the Master of the Hunt, "They know not of your cunning, your grace and your fortitude, my lady. They will expect you to be deliberative. I say we make a show of arms. Make them know that House Shoen does not take an affront such as this quietly."
The Septon goes to speak but quiets himself, preferring to allow others to voice their opinions.
The Storm Cometh...
Dark skies have descended upon the lands of Shoen. The black-gray clouds are almost claustrophobic. They oppressively loom over the family. A minor noble, kin to House Shoen, has been kidnapped this day. Attacked by bandits while traveling to Bylea from Lannisport. Instead of taking to the seas - as is tradition for the family - he took to land. Riding his horse hard and fast. Why did fair Seban Seral do this? It was not in his nature to be a thrill seeker or an adventurer. He was always quiet and shy, preferring the lure of the sea, to that of the trade roads. Two of his three armed guards were also killed. Their corpses found by local peasants who were picking berries in the countryside, nearly three hundred paces from the road.
The irony of finding these men in a patch of strawberries was not lost on any assembled in the great room of Shoen Hall. The entire room was festuned with gilded berries, the symbol of the family. In fact, the coat of arms for the House even bore a clutch of freshly picked, ripe strawberries. Indeed, a bowl of the fruit was sitting on the table where the leaders of the family sat and deliberated what to do next. Who had kidnapped Seban Seral, and why? He was not in line of succession and was easily three generations removed from the main branch of the family. The Serals were beloved merchants who lived in Bylea, sure, but they were not immaculately wealth or important. Indeed, no one would really take much note of the family if they were not granted a position or two of prestige within the Hall. Of that, Seban was merely the House Gardener, an honor that had little to do with gardening and far more to do with ensuring the proper fruit was picked at the proper time so as to give the core family a stockpile of sweets to consume after dinner. The position saw Seban travel around the Westerlands and into the Reach when supply ran dry within their native lands. He had been on many such journeys, what was different about this one?
Who would bother with such a minor noble - if he could even be called as such? He was not wealthy enough to justify the risk of kidnapping him for ransom, nor powerful or influential enough to garner a high price.
No, it must be a political maneuver, of some kind. If it was, then who was attacking the House? That truly was the question.
The youthful Septon of the Shoens stood up from the charcoal-colored table that laid at the center of the Great Hall and paced back and forth along its edge. The room was large for a moderately-sized hall such as this but its cozy nature only serves to make the sheer opulence that fills the room to shine that much more brightly. Political jockeying was never his forte, at least when it came to the secular sphere. All had heard of his ruthlessness when it came to matters of faith and his bold adherence - at least publicly - to orthodoxy. "If your ladyship will allow, I ask that we look at other reasons for the boy's absence and his guards' deaths. Perhaps they were waylaid by bandits and are, right here and now , taking refuge in a small thorp or some kind? Drinking some ale and keeping their heads down?"
Kavvin Skinner, the Master of the Hunt, scoffs at such a notion. His demeanor is dark and grim, clearly his own history with seeing his family brought low by sudden, unpredictable events, is coloring his mood. "I disagree with the Septon, my lady. He is a man of faith, he tries to see the best in the world. I know all too well how dark and vile the world can be. I do not wish to think our beloved gardener has been kidnapped - much less murdered - but the possibility remains... We need to be vigilant and ready for anything. Since the death of Lord Montgomery, the rival Houses have sought to harass us, to harangue us, to humiliate us. We are weak in their eyes because we do not have a man at the head of the household."
He pauses for dramatic effect as all eyes shift to the Master of the Hunt, "They know not of your cunning, your grace and your fortitude, my lady. They will expect you to be deliberative. I say we make a show of arms. Make them know that House Shoen does not take an affront such as this quietly."
The Septon goes to speak but quiets himself, preferring to allow others to voice their opinions.