The Fight For The Cub

[Andrethegiant]

The year is 281- which will later be known as the year of the false spring. King Aerys Targaryen, known as the Mad King, still holds the Iron Throne, casting a shadow of fear over the realm. However for every dark cloud there is a blue sky. Rumours are that Lord Whent has started rebuilding Harrenhall. Invitations have been sent to every corner of the realm to gather the proudest knights and most humble ladies for a celebration.

Your liegelord, Lord Robert Baratheon, now in his 19th year has expressed a keen interest in the celebrations. Young Lord Baratheon has been the ruler of the stormlands since his parents were cruelly taken by the sea 3 years ago. Although young he has born the responsibility as a liegelord well. Through his reign he has seen house Scales grow in prominence. When Lord Baratheon sends letters to his noble houses to invite them to Harrenhall one arrives at Castle Redford. The blocky letters and clumsy thick penmanship of the letter you recieve suggest it was penned by Baratheon himself.

Hopeful young maids around your castle whisper the Lord Baratheon recognizes his own past as an orphan in the young lord Scales, while cynics will fear Lord Baratheon may be cleverly manipulating the boy. The cynics remind people that the holdings of house Scales are still fresh. Castle Redford, sitting at the edge of the stormlands, may prove a valuable holding for an ambitious liegelord. Close trade with Targaryen held Kings Landing can provide much gold for a Raratheon that is rumoured to be struggling to finance a dowry. The maids dreamily wonder what beauty the handsome lord of Storms end has set his sights on.

While the schemers scheme and the dreamers dream for most the days stay the same. The winter had been hard around castle Redford and a milling crowd of labourers use the dawning spring to do neccesary repairs. Inside young maids scurry about under the watchful gaze of Reyanda Challinder- a woman who had been leading the Redford household for longer than Casyr Scales had been alive. In the courtyard Ser Paxtan Challinder makes his best impression of a wounded whale as he bellows at a young squire who didn't get his shield up in time. "sloppy shieldwork was how I got this" he warns while pointin at his empty eye-socket.

[Ameraaaaaa]

The year is 281- which will later be known as the year of the false spring. King Aerys Targaryen, known as the Mad King, still holds the Iron Throne, casting a shadow of fear over the realm. However for every dark cloud there is a blue sky. Rumours are that Lord Whent has started rebuilding Harrenhall. Invitations have been sent to every corner of the realm to gather the proudest knights and most humble ladies for a celebration.

Your liegelord, Lord Robert Baratheon, now in his 19th year has expressed a keen interest in the celebrations. Young Lord Baratheon has been the ruler of the stormlands since his parents were cruelly taken by the sea 3 years ago. Although young he has born the responsibility as a liegelord well. Through his reign he has seen house Scales grow in prominence. When Lord Baratheon sends letters to his noble houses to invite them to Harrenhall one arrives at Castle Redford. The blocky letters and clumsy thick penmanship of the letter you recieve suggest it was penned by Baratheon himself.

Hopeful young maids around your castle whisper the Lord Baratheon recognizes his own past as an orphan in the young lord Scales, while cynics will fear Lord Baratheon may be cleverly manipulating the boy. The cynics remind people that the holdings of house Scales are still fresh. Castle Redford, sitting at the edge of the stormlands, may prove a valuable holding for an ambitious liegelord. Close trade with Targaryen held Kings Landing can provide much gold for a Raratheon that is rumoured to be struggling to finance a dowry. The maids dreamily wonder what beauty the handsome lord of Storms end has set his sights on.

While the schemers scheme and the dreamers dream for most the days stay the same. The winter had been hard around castle Redford and a milling crowd of labourers use the dawning spring to do neccesary repairs. Inside young maids scurry about under the watchful gaze of Reyanda Challinder- a woman who had been leading the Redford household for longer than Casyr Scales had been alive. In the courtyard Ser Paxtan Challinder makes his best impression of a wounded whale as he bellows at a young squire who didn't get his shield up in time. "sloppy shieldwork was how I got this" he warns while pointin at his empty eye-socket.

Beryl was in a tense mood today. The celebration was soon and he wondered about the future of house scales. That septon was currently leading since the lord is so young. Beryl never met him before he came like he owned the place. Which to be fair in a way he did. He is a temporary lord. So while that was the case beryl would treat him as such. But his true loyalty was to the child. Since he had the same noble blood of the man who to beryl out of poverty.

So when he saw sir Paxton complaining to his squire he thought he'd help out.

"Sir paxton. My good man. I hope you don't mind but i think i can get your squire to take shieldwork more seriously. Afterall who wouldn't take shield work more seriously when sparring with a giant. With your permission of course."

[Andrethegiant]

The squire backs away slowly as the looming giant closes in. "Beryl" Ser Paxton looks up at you, his one functioning eye no longer needing to squint as he gets shadow from your large body. "This milksop isn't ready for a proper pitched combat, however i believe ser Ethelstan was roaming around eager to test his blades. Maybe you see him from up there?"

[Ameraaaaaa]

The squire backs away slowly as the looming giant closes in. "Beryl" Ser Paxton looks up at you, his one functioning eye no longer needing to squint as he gets shadow from your large body. "This milksop isn't ready for a proper pitched combat, however i believe ser Ethelstan was roaming around eager to test his blades. Maybe you see him from up there?"

"Very well sir. Have a good day. And squire lad. Never forget the importance of a good defense. It's what kept me alive for so long."

Beryl heads to find Ethelstan and offer a mock combat.

[Leonard Van Rin]

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.

[Ameraaaaaa]

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.

Baryl smiled. Most knights wouldn't agree. But the only thing he cared more about then fighting was house scales itself.

"Indeed. Let's grab the wooden equivalent of our weapons and spar. As a experienced knight i want to see if you got that warrior in you. I heard you were talented. So let's see how much."

As beryl the 7 foot giant goes to get the sparing equipment he asked "what do you wield? Personally spear and shield myself."

[Leonard Van Rin]

"Bastard sword and a large shield actually. As for being talented... I don't believe this is about talent. But let's not speak of such things now. Sir Paxton I think the young squire will benefit from watching this. He just might learn a few things." He looked at the youngster who had the rather large displeasure of being associated with the one eyed knight. Ethelstan found him to be... Ungrateful towards most folks.

[Ameraaaaaa]

"Nice choice. Squire lad. Pay close attention."

Beryl grabbed the equipment and distributed it.

"Ethelstan Pyke. Don't let me down ok. Ready. Set. Go."


So now i guess the gm can teach us how it goes.

[Leonard Van Rin]

Ethelstan took the gear and got ready, standing quite close to the giant knight. For this way they both were in range of each other. "Indeed, let's begin this."

[roll0]

So I read the rulebook. Again haha We must roll Initiative aka each of us makes an Agility test

[Ameraaaaaa]

[roll0]

Beryl was never the fastest but that didn't mean he did not try.

[Leonard Van Rin]

Perhaps it was because he was lighter, or due to a huge amount of luck. Being in the position to he decides to attack the large man. He makes make a cut from his left towards the right with as much force as he can master in the moment

[roll0]

And here we go! So, am using a long blades weapon aka the bastard sword. Due to having Long Blades 3 I add 3 bonus dice. Five plus three is eight. Now if your Combat Defence is higher than my roll I don't hit. But if I roll higher than your Combat Defence, I hit!

[Andrethegiant]

Perhaps it was because he was lighter, or due to a huge amount of luck. Being in the position to he decides to attack the large man. He makes make a cut from his left towards the right with as much force as he can master in the moment

[roll0]

And here we go! So, am using a long blades weapon aka the bastard sword. Due to having Long Blades 3 I add 3 bonus dice. Five plus three is eight. Now if your Combat Defence is higher than my roll I don't hit. But if I roll higher than your Combat Defence, I hit!

"Oh, you did it now newcomer, you made him angry", Ser Paxton, along with most of the other squires have gathered around to see the fight between the houses two prime fighters.

Because this is PBP we do all the calculation for our rolls to make it easier. First off bastard sword is a weapon requiring 1 BD to use. So for the next roll you'll have 7 dice (keeping the 5 best), but as this was inconsequential we'll roll with it. So you rolled a 17, Baryl has a defence of 9+tower shield adding 6, so 15. You get 1 degree of success on your hit. So your damage is multiplied with one. You use a bastard sword (athletics of 3+1)*1 DOS= 4 dmg, Baryls thick splint coat has an AR of 7+armour mastery and improved armour mastery. So he absorbs the first 9 points of damage from a hit.

[Leonard Van Rin]

"Oh, you did it now newcomer, you made him angry", Ser Paxton, along with most of the other squires have gathered around to see the fight between the houses two prime fighters.

Because this is PBP we do all the calculation for our rolls to make it easier. First off bastard sword is a weapon requiring 1 BD to use. So for the next roll you'll have 7 dice (keeping the 5 best), but as this was inconsequential we'll roll with it. So you rolled a 17, Baryl has a defence of 9+tower shield adding 6, so 15. You get 1 degree of success on your hit. So your damage is multiplied with one. You use a bastard sword (athletics of 3+1)*1 DOS= 4 dmg, Baryls thick splint coat has an AR of 7+armour mastery and improved armour mastery. So he absorbs the first 9 points of damage from a hit.

5 dmg... As I have Weapon Mastery for the Bastard Sword

[Ameraaaaaa]

"Oh, you did it now newcomer, you made him angry", Ser Paxton, along with most of the other squires have gathered around to see the fight between the houses two prime fighters.

Because this is PBP we do all the calculation for our rolls to make it easier. First off bastard sword is a weapon requiring 1 BD to use. So for the next roll you'll have 7 dice (keeping the 5 best), but as this was inconsequential we'll roll with it. So you rolled a 17, Baryl has a defence of 9+tower shield adding 6, so 15. You get 1 degree of success on your hit. So your damage is multiplied with one. You use a bastard sword (athletics of 3+1)*1 DOS= 4 dmg, Baryls thick splint coat has an AR of 7+armour mastery and improved armour mastery. So he absorbs the first 9 points of damage from a hit.


I just checked ny character sheet. Just a regular shield tho now i wish i had a tower shield. Oh well.

[Gareth3]

Tommen frowns and looks down at the courtyard where Ser Paxton is yelling at the squire. That's not a good way to teach him, maybe I should go down there... He shakes his head, realising he knows nothing about combat, and Paxton won't be receptive to any advice. He returns to his reading, but looks down again when Beryl makes the challenge. May as well learn something myself. He leaves his room and joins the audience, standing next to Ser Paxton. "Good morning, Ser. Who do you think will be the victor here?"

[Andrethegiant]

I just checked ny character sheet. Just a regular shield tho now i wish i had a tower shield. Oh well.

Assumed you wanted a tower shield as that is the reason to get bonus dice in shields? You may change if you want. If not your defence is 11, not 15. If so the calculation would be Ethelstan dealing 5 dmg*2DOS= 10 damage. Minus your 9 damage resistance is one damage.In either case, your turn to try an action.


Tommen frowns and looks down at the courtyard where Ser Paxton is yelling at the squire. That's not a good way to teach him, maybe I should go down there... He shakes his head, realising he knows nothing about combat, and Paxton won't be receptive to any advice. He returns to his reading, but looks down again when Beryl makes the challenge. May as well learn something myself. He leaves his room and joins the audience, standing next to Ser Paxton. "Good morning, Ser. Who do you think will be the victor here?"

The grizzled veteran jumps when you talk to him- his missing eye leaves him without peripheral vision on his right side. "Ah, Ser Storm. Well, this newcomer hits very hard indeed, these bast... well, these swords are meant to give a beating." As for illustration the blade hits Ser Baryl with a deep thud. "But my boy can take a beating, he's been hit around this yard for years now and I have yet to see him concede before he gets carried of in a stretcher". Ser Paxton takes obvious pride in seeing his prodigy fight. "It's never too late to learn to fight Ser Storm. Although winter is just over we can never be too prepared for hard times. Without wanting to pry in your heritage too much I'd say fighting is probably in your blood."

[Ameraaaaaa]

Assumed you wanted a tower shield as that is the reason to get bonus dice in shields? You may change if you want. If not your defence is 11, not 15. If so the calculation would be Ethelstan dealing 5 dmg*2DOS= 10 damage. Minus your 9 damage resistance is one damage.In either case, your turn to try an action.



"

sure I'll switch to tower shield

[Andrethegiant]

sure I'll switch to tower shield

Great- it is your turn to attempt to hit the mercenary

[Ameraaaaaa]

[roll0]

Remember that 2 die are bd so i only take the top 4 rolls not all 6. Unless i misunderstood the rules.


Beryl took the hit mentally thinking hmm. Nice strike. He has talent

Beryl holds his shield in front of him (both for defence and to hide his spear) while pulling back of the spear then pulls his shield to the left and push forward the spear hoping to strike pyke in the lung. Let's see how good his stamina is with a strike to the lung. Those are exhausting. I know from experience.

[Andrethegiant]

[roll0]

Remember that 2 die are bd so i only take the top 4 rolls not all 6. Unless i misunderstood the rules.


Beryl took the hit mentally thinking hmm. Nice strike. He has talent

Beryl holds his shield in front of him (both for defence and to hide his spear) while pulling back of the spear then pulls his shield to the left and push forward the spear hoping to strike pyke in the lung. Let's see how good his stamina is with a strike to the lung. Those are exhausting. I know from experience.

So that's a 22 (5+5+6+6). Ethelstan has 9 CD, but is using a shield giving him +4, but wearing a halfplate giving him- 5. So 8 In total. 22-8=14. You get 3 DOS. Your athletics is 4, so you deal 12 damage. Ethelstans half plate gives him 9 AR, so he takes 3 damage. Before the tourney we will look at spears as a weapon, because it is underwhelming as of now.

"See, the boy knew how to hit back" Ser Paxton comments to Tommen as the spear lands. Paxton then quickly intercedes as he sees the valyrian sellsword raises his sword again. "That's enough for an exhibit thank you both. I know you have a long and ardous journey ahead of you, I wouldnt like to be the reason anybody got injuried before the large seven sided melee we hear rumours of."

[Andrethegiant]

Later in the day, with your ship, the Spray, packed and ready for travel you all stand atop it's deck. The trek to Harrenhall starts with fanfare, smallfolk and family alike standing on the dock bidding you safe travels. The start of your journey goes well. Aided by a light breeze putting wind in your sails, the Stormlands proved to be a misnomer as the crew of your ships spend most of their time basking in the unusually mild weather.

You sail in past Crackclaws point towards Darry, the beautiful inlet lets you see trees and a bustling wildlife on both sides. Some of the attending ladies laugh as a pair of clumsy does trip through the undergrowth. The serenity proved to be shortlived however.


While you all look to the side your captain, Brandon Waters, exclaims “mothers mercy” as he lowers his looking glass, revealing eyes just as wild as the nature you travel through. “Turn the ship you moonfaced idiots” he commands, but it is too late, already large ships with banners from the north is blocking your passage out. The ship has nowhere to turn.

As he lends his looking glass to you all you can see the cause of his fear. Further up stands majestic warships. Their masts standing tall against the sky, an amalgamation of banners signifying powerful houses, all barely moving forward as the narrowing inlet traps them. Some of the larger ships are pushing their way forward, but this only makes the channel more digested. Smaller boats, filled with minor knights and traders from near and far are desperately milling about to avoid being caught in the clash of giants.

Some enterprising nobles are already hastily unloading on the riverbank, but the tummultous waves makes this a dangerous enterprise and you see more than one shipchest bobbing along the stream from failed landfalls.

The captain looks at you all in question. “Sers? Septon?” and in desperation he even look to the women in askance: "ladies, what can we do?"

[Ameraaaaaa]

Beryl is a bit confused what's going on. "What are they thinking? Can't anyone talk to them?"

Beryl stays close to the child lord for his protection. Grippinghis shield and spearkeep scales safe. Protect them with your life. That is your oath. That is your purpose.

[Harmony]

Amyra Vaith

Amyra loved travelling, everything from ship to riding, and sometimes even by foot. Seeing new parts of the Kingdom, even as it got greener and greener and the sun got lower and lower. The new vegetations and the huge farms. In Dorne, such massive irrigation could only exist near water, and yet up here in the cold north there were just fields and fields. She had wondered if Harrenhall was so long up north that there would be pines and other curious trees, bushes and flowers she had only seen drawn images off.

It had been hard to say good bye to her daughters, but they were to young to come apparently. Had Valena been a boy, it would have been a good learning experience here in the north, but she was not. Broderiers and curtsies was the norm, even though Amyra made sure to indulge her oldest daughter's whims, to some extent allowing her to try to become the woman she wanted to be, rather than reverse. Her younger daughter, Sylvenna, was more cut out of the northern lifestyle. She was kind and soft like the grass that was in such abundance here. Even among the rocks it thrived.

She was getting bored after having spent most of the journey relaxing, watching the ocean and talking to the other women. She could melt in if she wanted. It was a relaxing life, without much responsibility, but it was never a choice. She understood while some might make that choice, but she did not enjoy seeing it forced on others.

There seemed to be some tumult with the captain and once the men had seen the looming catastrophe in the looking glass, she needed only a glance to see the problem. Amyra was not the most book-smart of people. She had been riding the wondrous horses of Dorne before she could write, so her writing classes had been doubled and her riding halved. But problems like these made her mind spin. She was more comfortable with logistics at land, but the ocean was just the side, simply that you could not stop, and the wind decided the direction and speed that was possible to travel. This was so typical of northerners, so busy minding their own business that they did not see what they were causing. Steering, and navigating tightly, anchoring to loose speed or make sudden turns, all these were possibilities, but it seemed like the captain had already lost control over his own ship.

It was not her place to take charge, but the man had asked. That was an invitation. Perhaps they could cruise it, but perhaps it was better to just anchor and wait out the jam. She did not know the quality of these men and how well they could handle the ship they were on. "It will be alright." She soothed. "Do you think you can get us through?" She asked. It was an honest question, and while she did like his self-confidence right now, people had the right to loose their nerve and be able to regain it. "Or should we anchor and wait out the worst?" The last part could mean they got stuck here, so it was as much intended for the captain as it was for their Lord.

[Andrethegiant]

"I suppose we could try to push through my lady, but it will be risky. with those large wartubs floating about they could easily crush us to splinters if we get stuck between them. They belong out on the open sea, not in these narrowing inlets. Anchoring down is possible too my lady but no telling how long we will be stuck here then, no telling how many other boats want to get to Harrenhall now."

[Harmony]

Amyra Vaith

"You strike me as someone who's sailed your entire life." Amyra warmed up with a compliment to the Captain. "How well do you know this ship and how well does its crew know it?" It was no point in trying something risky if the captain was not certain in the ship and the crew. She was not a sailor, but she understood familiarity, logistics, travel, maneuvering room, speed and like the captain mentioned, impact. She fully agreed with his assessment that the big ships should not be travelling here, but northerners did what northerners did, their egos often as big and as much in the way of others as the ships in front of them were. Being crushed between two ships was not ideal either, but those ships may soon realize that travel upstream would be impossible in such a ship, which would leave them stuck hopelessly behind them, perhaps even missing the tournament. "It is your ship, Captain Waters, and you know her best. If you believe in her capable, so do I." She encouraged him. It was the easiest way, she found, to inspire people. Some, like most masters-of-arms, liked screams and intimidation. She had since long found that inspiring confidence was much more effective.

"My Lord." She curtsied quickly as she spoke to her young Liege, her eyes glancing between his mother and the Septon to ensure that she was not leaving them out of the conversation. "We might risk to come to late for the tournament. Even landing a few horses and riding with the ship trailing seems like large risk, and then we may not be able to bring everything we need too." She nods towards some of the ships failing to make landfall. "I might be able to help plot a course and do the timing, and with such an amazing sailor as our captain at the helm, I do believe it's a possibility." As much as she hated it, the risks excited her. Her late husband had been all to timid and she hoped none of those traits would take hold on the young Lord. At the same time, she did not want to encourage it. While he might not be entirely in control, he could likely sway his regent should the need arise. But they might strike down the entire idea as well, she had the hot blood of Rhoyne in her veins which was flaring up at this possibility. No one would remember the ships anchoring here.

[Gareth3]

Tommen is horrified at the crush of ships. "Seven Gods, people could die in this." He moves back and forth on the ship's deck, trying to get the best view of the ships and their banners.
Tommen is trying to determine which ship is flying banners of the most powerful House. He has Knowledge 4 and Knowledge Focus (Heraldry).

[Wymmerdann]

Casyr felt horror twist a gut already wrenched by hours of sea travel. He had not travelled well, and his face was pale, his cheeks sunken as he assessed matters through the lens of his personal far-eyes.
He heard his Uncle Tommen’s words and a shiver ran up his spine. Many could die, not out of any malice, but sheer incompetence. Someone should have anticipated this risk, and yet, none had. He was confronted with chaos and given the choice of fleeing from it or recklessly advancing into it. Each choice felt like a trap, a chance to be proven a craven or a fool.

As Lady Amyra approached him, Casyr snapped his far-eyes shut, perturbed by the sight of the hazardous landings and near misses. He must plot the third course. “If you are willing to shoulder that responsibility, then I am inclined to put my faith in you,” Casyr replied sombrely, forcing gravitas into his tone was like donning clothes made for a taller and more experienced man, a man like his father. “But we must think not just of ourselves, for a great many lives are in peril who are thinking in just the same way. We must coordinate with other ships and bring as many to safety as we can.”

“Do we have signalling flags, that might normally be used to coordinate with other ships in harbour?” he inquired of Captain Waters, “They will be useful here, with ships running too close to one another, they will be easily visible, and serve to remind captains that larger vessels ought give way to smaller craft.”

He gestured to his long shadow, “Ser Beryl I must grant you the task of making this ship twice as imposing by lending your stature to the waving of such flags – take your instruction from the ship’s signalman.”

“Master Pyke,” he nodded to the mercenary, feeling even more the untested youth in comparison to such a veteran “clear everyone but our immediate retainers and the crew from the deck, lest they interfere with smooth sailing.

“Lady Heartly,” his tongue suddenly felt too big in his mouth, “there are a number of animals below that are as dangerous in this chaos as they are irreplaceable. Please, I leave them in your care.”

“Uncle Tommen, Mother," he added, “we must identify those who may actually know what they are doing and can help us bring chaos from such madness. Ships belonging to houses that have harbours of their own, that know the risk in this moment and have the experienced crew required to coordinate. Hightower, Lannisters, Graftons, Manderlys, Velaryons.” He almost added “Darklyns” before remembering the King’s Justice “Rykkers”. And friends inclined to listen to our signal.”

He paused, catching his breath and leaning against the side of the ship. To cover the moment of weakness he drew the far-eyes again and scanned nearby ships, hoping that his voice had seemed less strained, presumptuous and foolhardy than it had sounded in his own ears.

[Ameraaaaaa]

Casyr felt horror twist a gut already wrenched by hours of sea travel. He had not travelled well, and his face was pale, his cheeks sunken as he assessed matters through the lens of his personal far-eyes.
He heard his Uncle Tommen’s words and a shiver ran up his spine. Many could die, not out of any malice, but sheer incompetence. Someone should have anticipated this risk, and yet, none had. He was confronted with chaos and given the choice of fleeing from it or recklessly advancing into it. Each choice felt like a trap, a chance to be proven a craven or a fool.

As Lady Amyra approached him, Casyr snapped his far-eyes shut, perturbed by the sight of the hazardous landings and near misses. He must plot the third course. “If you are willing to shoulder that responsibility, then I am inclined to put my faith in you,” Casyr replied sombrely, forcing gravitas into his tone was like donning clothes made for a taller and more experienced man, a man like his father. “But we must think not just of ourselves, for a great many lives are in peril who are thinking in just the same way. We must coordinate with other ships and bring as many to safety as we can.”

“Do we have signalling flags, that might normally be used to coordinate with other ships in harbour?” he inquired of Captain Waters, “They will be useful here, with ships running too close to one another, they will be easily visible, and serve to remind captains that larger vessels ought give way to smaller craft.”

He gestured to his long shadow, “Ser Beryl I must grant you the task of making this ship twice as imposing by lending your stature to the waving of such flags – take your instruction from the ship’s signalman.”

“Master Pyke,” he nodded to the mercenary, feeling even more the untested youth in comparison to such a veteran “clear everyone but our immediate retainers and the crew from the deck, lest they interfere with smooth sailing.

“Lady Heartly,” his tongue suddenly felt too big in his mouth, “there are a number of animals below that are as dangerous in this chaos as they are irreplaceable. Please, I leave them in your care.”

“Uncle Tommen, Mother," he added, “we must identify those who may actually know what they are doing and can help us bring chaos from such madness. Ships belonging to houses that have harbours of their own, that know the risk in this moment and have the experienced crew required to coordinate. Hightower, Lannisters, Graftons, Manderlys, Velaryons.” He almost added “Darklyns” before remembering the King’s Justice “Rykkers”. And friends inclined to listen to our signal.”

He paused, catching his breath and leaning against the side of the ship. To cover the moment of weakness he drew the far-eyes again and scanned nearby ships, hoping that his voice had seemed less strained, presumptuous and foolhardy than it had sounded in his own ears.

"Yes cesar! I will!" Beryl was impressed with the boy. Definitely a smart one.

Beryl followed the instructions with a fever of a man ready to die. Thankfully the task was not fight to the death but flag signaling. Beryl definitely listened to every single last thing the signal man told him. Must not let a potential mistake of his be house scales end.

[Batcathat]

As was her habit, Roanne Scales kept to the back of the crowd, observing not only the ships ahead of them but the people around her. Despite the situation, she almost smiled when Casyr started barking orders. Although her son's habit of leaping into action head first sometimes drove her crazy with equal parts worry and annoyance, his instinct for taking charge would serve him well once he became a man and a ruler, at least if he learned to reign it in when necessary.

As Casyr spoke to her and Tommen, she nodded. Although usually not one to happily follow anyone else's orders, even her son's, Roanne knew little of sailing. Not to mention that openly pushing back would risk not only her son's authority but her own image as a proper, demure lady.

Instead, she pulled out her own far-eyes and looked towards the ships.

[Leonard Van Rin]

Casyr felt horror twist a gut already wrenched by hours of sea travel. He had not travelled well, and his face was pale, his cheeks sunken as he assessed matters through the lens of his personal far-eyes.
He heard his Uncle Tommen’s words and a shiver ran up his spine. Many could die, not out of any malice, but sheer incompetence. Someone should have anticipated this risk, and yet, none had. He was confronted with chaos and given the choice of fleeing from it or recklessly advancing into it. Each choice felt like a trap, a chance to be proven a craven or a fool.

As Lady Amyra approached him, Casyr snapped his far-eyes shut, perturbed by the sight of the hazardous landings and near misses. He must plot the third course. “If you are willing to shoulder that responsibility, then I am inclined to put my faith in you,” Casyr replied sombrely, forcing gravitas into his tone was like donning clothes made for a taller and more experienced man, a man like his father. “But we must think not just of ourselves, for a great many lives are in peril who are thinking in just the same way. We must coordinate with other ships and bring as many to safety as we can.”

“Do we have signalling flags, that might normally be used to coordinate with other ships in harbour?” he inquired of Captain Waters, “They will be useful here, with ships running too close to one another, they will be easily visible, and serve to remind captains that larger vessels ought give way to smaller craft.”

He gestured to his long shadow, “Ser Beryl I must grant you the task of making this ship twice as imposing by lending your stature to the waving of such flags – take your instruction from the ship’s signalman.”

“Master Pyke,” he nodded to the mercenary, feeling even more the untested youth in comparison to such a veteran “clear everyone but our immediate retainers and the crew from the deck, lest they interfere with smooth sailing.

“Lady Heartly,” his tongue suddenly felt too big in his mouth, “there are a number of animals below that are as dangerous in this chaos as they are irreplaceable. Please, I leave them in your care.”

“Uncle Tommen, Mother," he added, “we must identify those who may actually know what they are doing and can help us bring chaos from such madness. Ships belonging to houses that have harbours of their own, that know the risk in this moment and have the experienced crew required to coordinate. Hightower, Lannisters, Graftons, Manderlys, Velaryons.” He almost added “Darklyns” before remembering the King’s Justice “Rykkers”. And friends inclined to listen to our signal.”

He paused, catching his breath and leaning against the side of the ship. To cover the moment of weakness he drew the far-eyes again and scanned nearby ships, hoping that his voice had seemed less strained, presumptuous and foolhardy than it had sounded in his own ears.

Ethelstan looked at this entire situation and wanted to facepalm, as he had seen such issues before. In truth Bravoos rarely had such trouble but ut still on occasion happened. He didn’t understand how competent captains can lead ships into such stupid traps. Then again, most Westerosi captains ain’t really good at their job.

He was standing right by the young lord, for when outside the castle a bodyguard must stay around his client. He was in full gear, including his sword and shield. Sure, few people would be going for a kill when it comes to exploiting. Easier to get the kid married to someone… Preferably one’s own daughter. Arranged marriage always pissed him off. Sure he is a strange and at times cruel man but in the end he still believed in true love. Sadly young women of all status saw him more as a danger to them than a potential partner. He sighed.

It was then that Casyr gave him the order to act. If the valyrian was good at something then it was fighting and threatening people to do what he needed them to do. He walked into the middle of the deck and looked upon the kind folk present there.

“Ladies and gentlemen, by command of lord Casyr you are to head beneath deck and to your cabins. We have the situation under control, and if you require any assistance am here.” The tone he used was rather harsh, though he was honest about being helpful when the need for aid would arise. He hoped that he wouldn’t have to resort to violence this time around.

[Gareth3]

Tommen nods, a little annoyed at himself for not realising the best houses to identify. "Yes, my Lord, I will find those Houses that should have relevant experience right away." Rather than just the highest status, as if this was a formal garden party. He looks back at the ships, trying to distinguish the banners.

Judging by the banners, which ships should have crew with experience in this kind of situation?[roll0]

[Harmony]

Amyra Vaith

Amyra curtised with the orders given. "Yes, my Lord." The young Lord at least had his heart in the right place, and it did not seem like he was trying to be everywhere at once, a common trait for someone his age. A common trait for men, in general. They did not seem to mature until they sprouted grey hair, and even then many of them did their damnedest to prove that they were not old. Coordinating with the other ships was ambitious plan, hard to pull through, but definitely ambitious. He was aiming high, but like Amyra's mother had always told her, it was no shame in aiming high and coming short. It was when you aimed low and came short.

"Sailors, Lord Scales has decided that we must cross through this mess. I have full confidence in your ability to do so, and so does your captain. This vessel has seen many voyages, and will see many more." Her voice was crisp, she knew exactly how to make it carry without sounding like she was screaming. It was an underestimated talent among leaders, but where her siblings had practiced singing, she had practiced oratory. She briefly wondered if her girls would have the same opportunity. Perhaps her nephew would be lenient. "I need our current speed, the wind and the distance." Other people could calculate exact measurement, but life was never about being exact, it was about that feeling in your gut. Still, some of that could be useful.

She spoke closer to the Captain. "You know this route, is there a better and more open stretch further ahead or will it get thinner and thinner?" There was no point in doing heroics when a bit of patience would pay off just as good. She could feel her heart beating. Fear trimmed by anticipation. It was a wonderful day to be alive.

[Wymmerdann]

Casyr was glad to see folk heeding his words, in their own way. Part of him wanted to race below and assist with the animals - his. family's route to wealth and influence, but he also knew he must see and be seen above decks. He stayed on the raised deck, assisting in the identification of nearby craft and dangers, and trusting in Lady Vaith's plans. He said little more, seeing that each of his retainers were fulfilling their function well, and that each seemed far better suited for their roles than he was



[roll0] Coordinating to Assist Tommen reach his next degree of success.

[Leonard Van Rin]

Likely should roll for intimidation on giving those orders to the people who need to go beneath deck haha Let's see what I get lol [roll0]

[Andrethegiant]

Casyrs words sends the ship into a flurry of actions. Roanne and Tommen stand by the young lord and give counsel. Tommen finds many good candidates and uses his deductive skills to boil it down to two primary candidates: Lord Alrek Selmy and Lord Ardrian Celtigar. As both were lords from the stormlands Roannes knowledge on them was extensive.
Roanne could supply that Lord Selmy was an affable lord filled with genuine compassion. An easier man to persuade to give assistance, yet a well liked powerful noble people were likely to listen to. People were giving way to his large, gilded vessel- the golden swan- and despite their concerns many smallfolk bowed their head when this knightly figure passed them by. Roanne knew he aspired to be like his uncle, an appeal to his compassion and honour would be likely to be enough to persuade him to help.
However while Alrek might be cut from the cloth of heroes there would be no better navigator and no better captain than Lord Celtigar. Both the man and his ship were refered to as the Red Crab, and while his house banner bore a scarlet crusacean, the man was named after the colouring his face took when recieving bad news and his crabby demeanor. He would be hard to convince, but nobody would bring order to chaos like the Red Crab. Maybe by persuading him his ship would be safer he could be swayed?
Roanne had knowledge of them both, but having a lord, no matter how young speak to either of them would add gravitas, and an older man might be best suited to give advice that is heeded.

While the near family discuss who will approach one of the lords ser Beryls shouts to put ships nearby at attention. Several of these ships put their own flags, or pieces of assorted clothing, out to signal their preparedness and where they intend to go.

On the deck below a flurry of actions are happening. Ethelstans offers of assistance combined with his tall, grizzled, frame ensures he gets crowded by nervous maids. While many others go belowdeck a handfull of experienced servants take the mercenaries words as their cue to help out. While some help in their own ways by removing lose cutlery and other maintenance tasks a few approach the young lord and his retainers to give their unprompted advice.

As the rest of the ship was a flurry of activity Justan and Elen kept Amyra in a bubble of serenity. The sailors she talked to efficiently went about their tasks. The ships mate returns with a report swiftly. The wind was a light breeze and nothing to worry over, the speed of 5 knots down from 8, meant the ship would be able to stop with good distance to the ships in front, but worryingly a large ship with a chained man was approaching at a fast speed right behind them. The captain is snapped out of his thoughts as you ask him. "my lady, things only get thinner from here in. I don't understand this, these waters should be teeming with locals and kings men to ensure order upstream. The kings men should also have held back the large seavessels not fit for these waters. My lady this is wrong."

Amyra is given charge by Casyr. She will need to succeed a DC unknown, but high warfare check to put all these ships in order.

Roanne adds her remarkable political acumen to Tommens knowledge of local affairs. Assists are usually only plus half, but with Roannes Knowledge and her connections she adds her full skill.
With 2 DOS you may choose either to approach Lord Selmy, who will be easy to sway. Appealing to his honour the difficulty will only be 12 and as he is amiable towards anyone suggesting heroics you'll get a + one to the roll. He will be friendly towards Roanne, who is able to connect more to him. Getting him as an ally will add +2D for the coordination attempt. However you may also choose to approach the crabby older lord. He will dislike anybody suggesting that he risks his own ship, giving a -2 on the roll, but he is neutral towards lady Roanne, she will roll with a +0. It will be a very hard (18) test to convince him, but he will add +4D to Amyras roll.


Beryls heroics (2 DOS) adds a +2D to the roll.
However as the deck is crowded with civilians from Ethelstans critical failure a -1D is put to the test.

[Batcathat]

While her gaze was still towards the ships ahead, Roanne barely noticed them as she weighed the options against each other. It like was picking a guard dog, with the alternatives being the friendly one who'd be unfailingly loyal to its owners but just as likely to lick an intruder as to bite them or the half-feral one who'd keep all intruders at bay but was almost as likely to bite the hand feeding it.

Of course, at least with dogs there was no worry about how the mutts would view you in the future. If they pleaded with Lord Celtigar only to be turned down, it would not only be a blow to their pride but being perceived as the second choice might make Lord Selmy less inclined to help them.

"I would advice you seek Lord Selmy's aid", she said to her son, adding no honorific but bowing her head slightly to show some necessary deference. Lord Selmy may be the lesser sailor, but there was greater things at stake than ships.

[Gareth3]

Tommen carefully allows Roanne to speak first, respecting her status. He's about to nod and support her when she names Selmy as the man to approach. What the hell? We're about to get crushed and she's playing some political game instead of choosing the best sailors? Concealing his anger with great effort, he nods. "I... agree, my Lord." He pauses, trying to think of something constructive to add. "You or your Lady mother may wish to speak to directly to Lord Selmy, you'll be more persuasive than any of us."

[Wymmerdann]

Casyr paused in response to his mother and uncle’s words. He felt Tommen had more to add, seeing a glimmer of fire behind his eyes. He turned to face his uncle, giving the older and more experienced man his full attention.

“Uncle, you are among my counsellors and matters are serious enough that if we regret our actions today we may well not have the chance to correct them. Have you more to say?”

[Gareth3]

Tommen looks warily at Roanne as he replies, choosing his words carefully.
"I think we both agree that Lord Selmy and Lord Celtigar are our only two real options. I think Roanne's reasoning is that Lord Celtigar is stubborn and arrogant even for a Lord of his rank, and that convincing him to help us will be difficult. Also that asking and being refused would cause us more difficulties, both with this-" he gestures towards the crush of ships "-and later on. So we try Lord Selmy. But on the other hand, Lord Celtigar is a skilled sailor himself, much more likely to get us through this alive than Lord Selmy, if we can convince him to help. Risk vs reward, short-term survival vs long-term complications... the choice isn't clear." Tommen turns to Roanne. "My Lady, I respectfully request that we leave the choice up to Lord Scales himself. I'll support whatever choice he makes."
Persuasion test against Roanne's passive Will to get her to leave the choice up to Casyr, without being offended at Tommen's disagreement: [roll0]

[Batcathat]

Roanne suppressed a sudden urge to roll her eyes. Tommen was more intelligent than most, certainly more than his half-brother had ever been, but sometimes she wished he would learn the value of brevity. Casyr needed to know what the better choice was, not necessarily why that was. At least not until he was older and hopefully wiser.

"Of course", she nodded. "Our duty is merely to advice. The decision is yours, my son."


I wasn't sure how to play the result, since she always intended to leave the choice to Casyr and tend to be a little demeaning (at least in her own head) at the best of times. Hope this works. :smallsmile:

[Leonard Van Rin]

Ethelstan was happy that the people followed his command, or more accuretly the wishes of lord Casyr. For at least they followed the orders of their betters. However he did not expect so many maids swarming him was something he was not ready for. But being a man of his word he decided to hear each of them out and help those who would really need it.

“Alright… I will help but please speak in an orderly fashion… I can’t be everywhere at once.” Ethelstan spoke in a calm and very welcoming tone, something quite rare. But when speaking with women who are full of worries one had to behave more calmly unlike when one speaks to other warriors… then one could go off and be a bit harsher.

He then begins to listen, carefully and patiently. Yes this rather rough looking valyrian was capable of just standing there and listening to a bunch of maids like it’s nothing. What kind of man would he be if he wasn’t able to do such a simple thing.

[Wymmerdann]

Casyr glanced past his uncle and mother into the frothing and churning water, “we are near enough to Claw Isle that the Red Crab will know these waters. Lord Selmy would not. Mother, your concerns are valid and well stated by Uncle Tommen, but most of these concerns presume that I will treat with Lord Ardrian and fail. Should I succeed, Lord Ardrian is clearly the better choice. So it is with Lord Ardrian that I will treat.” He finished boldly before added quietly, “I do thank you for your counsel uncle, but in my presence you will call my mother by her title, the Lady Roanne.”

He paused before adding, in a manner that seemed polished, but betrayed a slight anxiety to those who knew him well, “I would have you both with me when I speak with Lord Ardrian, as it is fitting that I take counsel when treating with a peer of the realm”.

[Gareth3]

Tommen is relieved at Casyr's decision, and bows his head. "I apologise for any insult, my Lord." He looks at the Celtigar ship in the distance. "What's the safest way we can get over there?"

[Batcathat]

Roanne didn't know whether to sigh or smile. The boy had his father's confidence, at least.

"Of course", she said, bowing her head once more. Her mind already racing, trying to summon every word she had ever heard about the crabby lord Celtigar and what strings there might be to pull. Or, considering his infamous temper, at least what strings to avoid pulling.

[Wymmerdann]

Casyr squared up, placing his feet a shoulder width apart he attempted to project a confidence he did not quite feel. What did he know of treating with Lords? In theory, he knew the etiquette, but in practice, he had rarely met any nobleman of rank not his own kin.

“Signal the captain to see us safely alongside the Red Crab,” he commanded, airily.

“Lady Roanne, Master Tommen, please, I would hear of how best to approach this matter. Your caution of the Lord’s temperament is wise.”

“Captain,Lady Vaith, Master Pyke, Ser Beryl, Lady Heartly, I leave our vessel in your care while I parley.”

[Gareth3]

Tommen hesitates. A history lecture won't really help here. "Focus on Lord Celtigar's self-interest, my Lord. He'll reach his destination much more quickly and safely if we're an organised fleet, rather than a hundred ships he has to dodge. And he's by far the best sailor and admiral here, so he should organise the fleet himself."

[Batcathat]

Roanne nodded at Tommen's words. "Remind him of how everyone expects a great sailor such as him to solve the troubles at hand. Do not question his skill, but perhaps... imply that others might." She paused, placing a hand on Casyr's shoulder. "Remember, he is your superior as a sailor, that is all. Respect his advice, but do not defer command to him."

[Wymmerdann]

Casyr

Casyr nodded at the advice of his mother and uncle, knowing there was more to be said, but simply not enough time. His mouth was dry and he anxiously shifted in his doublet, finding it suddenly ill-fitting against his clammy skin.
Focus on his self interest. Do not defer command.

As the Red Crab drew closer, Casyr wracked his brain for the old stories of Aegon's conquest and the crownlands. He raised his far-eyes once more, seeing if he could make out Lord Celtigar and gain some manner of insight into the man's manner, and his response to both the situation and the sight of House Scales' Banner.

6d6k5

[Andrethegiant]

Casyr

Casyr nodded at the advice of his mother and uncle, knowing there was more to be said, but simply not enough time. His mouth was dry and he anxiously shifted in his doublet, finding it suddenly ill-fitting against his clammy skin.
Focus on his self interest. Do not defer command.

As the Red Crab drew closer, Casyr wracked his brain for the old stories of Aegon's conquest and the crownlands. He raised his far-eyes once more, seeing if he could make out Lord Celtigar and gain some manner of insight into the man's manner, and his response to both the situation and the sight of House Scales' Banner.

6d6k5

The crab is busy shouting commands and does not notice as you close in. Where he might seem like an angry uncouth sailor from afar in your far-eyes you see a calculating gaze as he looks over the shipyard. No emotion is evident on his face. Even as he sees smaller boats capsize he only cares for keeping his own ship clear. This callous attitude is mirrored by his men. Whereas other ships assist unfortunate smallfolk Ardrian and his crew simply ignore pleas as they try to find the calmest piece of sea to secure their ship.

[Wymmerdann]

Casyr

“Lord Ardrian” Casyr bellowed into the wind, “Lord of Claw Isle, Overlord of Cracklaw Point, Prince in Valyria, we must carve a path through this maelstrom, before its chaos consumes us all. My Castellan and Captain chart a course to safety - lend your pennants and signallers to our cause and our shared path shall be all the clearer. Better others should follow in our wake than risk collision and wreckage.”

[Batcathat]

A man screaming melodramatic propositions into the wind. Sometimes reality truly surpassed any poetic metaphor. Roanne's smile never even reached her lips before it was pushed aside as she assumed her regular pose as the supportive but subservient mother, but she could not resist raising her far-eyes to survey the reaction to her son's words.


Rolling for Awereness/Empathy: [roll0]

[Andrethegiant]

Lord Ardrian tried to conceal his unease, though the subtle signs of nervousness began to betray his usual composure. Standing near the ship's railing, he tightly clenched the plain handrail. His gaze flitted from the crew members efficiently manning their stations, uncertainty etched across his features. A moderately sized vessel capsize, sending horses plummeting into the deeps, and the whinnying of these steeds finally settles the Red Crab- if even larger vessels can fall prey to the chaos his own ship might be doomed.

"I will halt new ships from arriving" He promises as he handwaives to his crew to turn the vessel around. "you will need to sail up the inlet, get all ships to slow down, and tell them to not turn around, bottlenecks form when ships no longer steer straight."

[Harmony]

Amyra Vaith

While not a sailor, Amyra was used to command. Some leaders had walked the shoes of those under and knew how to practically achieve everything. Others, like Amyra, were trained to rely on others - to inspire them to confidence. She did just that. She did not need the strength these sailors did. The ships movement became clear to her, the way the flowed back and forth across the river. The way the waves bit. How the sailors turned from skeptical of the situation, to even more so for the fact that a woman was commanding them, to slowly shaping into confident as they started seeing what she was seeing.

It was the Captain who gave the orders, of course, she was just the director, or Admiral like the sailors preferred to call it. Just like the Captains and Sergeants did the fighting, the General coordinated everything. She did not need to know the angle of the sails. She just needed to know what speed and angle they needed to hold and convey that.

As they cruised between the larger ships, she was at the fore of the ship, feeling the droplets of water against her face as they cruised between them. It was past the time of regret anyway. The sailors would do their job, or they would likely die. As they cleared, she turned towards her nephew, with a triumphant smile on her lips, commending all the sailors as she slowly made it back to the others.

[Gareth3]

Tommen frowns at Casyr's plea. That's not going to work, you're implying he should follow our orders, you're just going to offend... He's startled when Lord Celtigar cooperates. Huh, it worked. Either the old grouch has mellowed out or the boy is better at this than I thought. He turns towards the Captain but notices Amyra is already advising him. Tommen carefully watches the other ships. The details of sailing are beyond him, but he checks the banners and the men on the decks, looking for ships that might have a grudge against Lord Celtigar and cause problems.
Is there any ship that would be reluctant to follow orders from Lord Celtigar, even in this situation?: Knowledge 4[roll0]

[Wymmerdann]

Casyr

Casyr saw the plan take form and Lady AmyraÂ’s instructions bear fruit. Lord Ardrian showed as much initiative and a willingness to cooperate as could be hoped for. He cheered his auntÂ’s success with a smile.

“Ser Baryl,” he called, with growing confidence “stand ready with the signalling flags, as we shall need to point others in the right direction. Onward,!”

[Ameraaaaaa]

"Yes lord casyr!" Beryl does as told with much focus.

[Andrethegiant]

As Amyra strides across the ship the sailors follow her gaze, the panicked people aboard let her serenity wash over them and they soon find peace and walk belowdeck guided by Athelstan. Soon that same serenity was over to other ships. As Amyra gazes at the fore of the ship like a galleon figure the ships around start to organize themselves. The large vessel of the Umbers that had pushed past in the confusion now slow down and aid a smaller trade vessel secure their goods.

Although the captain gets to give the orders not even he puts up a pretence on being in charge. Smallfolk get to securely disembarge, their miniscule vessels tied to the shore safely. The large warships that had no business being this far upstream drop anchor, securing themselves safely and immovably. This lets more nimble vessels sneak past. T Apart from a few bellowing lords arguing about who was at fault for the injuries already caused there is order restored.

The Scales ship, being nimble and well manned is one of the ships who get to sail upstream. The Celtigar ship sails right alongside you, Lord ardrian gives an appreciative nod to the young lord Scales. Although it remains unclear why this chaos erupted, it is clear only swift thinking and decisive action stopped this from becoming a disaster. This saving grace is attributed to house Scales and house Celtigar, and those keen of mind knows that Lord Ardrian does not rouse without due cause. The timely intervention of house scales is remarked upon with interest.

Members of house Scales get better disposition from the red Crab. PCs now get a neutral disposition in future encounters with Lord Ardrian Celtigar. House Scales gain two glory for saving the situation, which may be spent as per the book, to gain access somewhere at the tournament, or donated to the house later on as usual.

[Ameraaaaaa]

"Well looks like we are safe for now. Nice going lord casyr. You did well today." Beryl says.

[Batcathat]

Roanne briefly squeezed her son's shoulder. "Well done, son." While not the path she would have chosen, the results could not be denied and Casyr had increased his standing ever so slightly before they had even reached their destination.

No, not bad at all. Though as her eyes swept across the numerous ships, it seemed likely that whatever game lied ahead would be a lot more challenging than getting a few boats moving in proper order.

[Andrethegiant]

The rest of the trek to Darry is uneventful, the traffic now flowing smoothly, if slowly. The small town also struggle to keep the new arrivals flowing through, and a flock of confused ferrymen are boarding the ships going back to the inlet to guide the ships.
Knowledge (streetwise) if any PCs want to try to chat with them before they board the ship.

Apart from a few enterprising lords attempting to talk to the mysterious Lady Amyra the ride south to Harrenhall is equally uneventful.

As the group close in the structure of Harrenhall is visible. Harrenhal is a colossal castle, unlike anything the members of the house have seen before. The castle is surrounded by five towers, each with its own distinctive name: Widow's Tower, tower of Ghosts, Wailing Tower, Kingspyre Tower, and tower of Dread. The towers range tall as mountains, and being crooked with stones partially melted from the dragonfire spewed by Balerion the black during the war of the conquest. Their crooked and melted form add to their mountain-like appearance. It seems Lord Whent has decided to carve out the towers from their melted husks again, and bustling around the base of the Widows Tower is a group of masons, looking like ants next to the giant structure.

Despite the started work the rest of the castle shows a state of disrepair and neglect, and most tents are set up outside of Harrenhalls walls. As you move closer an ageing functionary moving as fast as his crooked back allows moves out to greet you. He shows where you may put up tents, and explains that though arrivals from Darry has been slowed Lord Whent has decided to gather the lords who have arrived for a hunt. For those with a more sedentary persuasion the functionary tells that the grand hall of the castle has been restored for a masquerade. While the official drones on about minute details surrounding the arrangement alluring sounds sounds of festivities sound from a camp set apart from the others. It seems campfollowers have set up their seedier business apart from the main camp. The official drops his neutral rambling from time to time just to stare daggers at camp followers at the outskirt of their camp.

Three main avenues are apparent. The PCs may choose different paths if desired. Players may split up freely or stick together if that is desired.
Carousing
Carousing with the commoners is open for anybody. Anybody with status 3 or above who wish to participate must either attempt to hide their presence or will be remarked upon. A person wanting to join secretly must roll stealth (blend in) to go unnoticed.

Masquerading.
At the masquerade those with a status of 3 or more may enter as guests, those with less must either come as servants or succeed a challending (dc 9) status test. Those who attend as guests may roll a Status (breeding) to be noticed or a Deception (disguise) in order to stay anonymous.

Hunting
Hunting is available for all men with a status of 3 or more, those with less must succeed a dc 9 status test or be used as rattlers to scare the prey. Women wanting to join must roll survival (hunt) to convince the huntmaster of their ability.

[Ameraaaaaa]

"Well as your bodyguard there's nowhere safer then the kings castle. Add on that I'm probably not welcome to the masquerade and I'll just head to a tavern to drink. Stay safe Lord Casyr, Lady Armya and Tommen as well."

[Wymmerdann]

As they made their approach upon the castle and were informed of the events to come, Casyr turned to Tommen, “Uncle, please, though it may seem beneath your rightful station, accompany me as a servant, that you might mix among the other servants and gather information on my behalf. Given our success upon the road, I am of a mind to forge a tighter bond between our house and house Celtigar, but this is a highly speculative endeavour, and should it be doomed to failure, then it will reflect poorly upon my inexperience. Your advice led to our approach upon Lord Ardrian, so I would entrust you with this task if you are willing: discover if House Celtigar is a house worthy of our alliance - a house capable of projecting influence into the crownlands and unburdened by scandals and stigma, and whether it has any suitable heirs approachable for betrothal, or other grounds on which a firm alliance might be secured.However, if you deem such an endeavour beneath your proper station, I will not insist upon it, and you may instead enter within my entourage, befitting the rank of my father’s noble brother.”

Though he would have preferred to mingle amongst the more adventurous lords and their knights in the hunt, Casyr knew he was better suited to the courtly finery of the masquerade. He donned his finest crimson doublet of Myrish silk and fitted two fine rings upon his fingers - one a ruby encrusted ring of silver and the second a simple signet ring set in Valyrian steel - a gift from the Iron throne to his forebear, the first Lord Scales. A silver chain bore stylised iconography of oaken trees, the scales of justice, and dragons in flight, announcing his family’s hereditary as lesser scions of House Targaryen.

To his aunt and mother he gave no instruction- they were more experienced than he at such events and in the intermixing with their noble peers. He was sad to see Ser Baryl leave, but knew both his knight and sellsword protectors were made of rougher stuff than ballroom etiquette would smoothly tolerate. Instead, resplendent in house colours and finery, he made his entrance amidst his highest born retainers and family, doing his best to seem at- ease, comfortable, and sophisticated, though he felt entirely not.

[roll0] +2 for status to be noticed.

[Batcathat]

To be perfectly honest – not that Roanne was in the habit of being that – she was close to putting on her peasant garb and mixing with the common folk, if nothing else it was likely to be a lot more fun. But the risk of someone recognizing her was simply too great and she did not look forward to explaining why the Lady Roanne was doing in company like that. It might be excusable for young lords, but rarely for... slightly less young ladies.

Instead, she changed into one of her better dresses and a quite artfully crafted mask in the shape of a lamb's head that covered her entire face and even had woolen "hair" to cover her own. As most of the guests were likely to wear either some heavy-handed reference to their house or something projecting either strength or beauty, Roanne hoped that a lamb would draw little attention. That was the idea, at least.



Knowledge (Streetwise): [roll0] to chat with the ferrymen.

Deception: [roll1] to attempt to remain anonymous at the party.

[Harmony]

Amyra Vaith

A masquerade. She had memories of them from growing up in Dorne, but somehow her memories they were always more classy. Perhaps it was all the mud here in the cold north. Or all the rain. But never the less, she would make her best effort to enjoy it. She certainly was not prepared, but she had enough dresses to make some mystique. The tan of her skin would make it hard to melt in among the pale northerners, but a masquerade was not always about secrecy, it was also about forbidden things. She went through her jewelry, l finding a match to her green dress. Extra care went into choosing the right mix of her perfume. If she could not quite disguise herself, she could disguise her normal perfume, perhaps surprising someone another day. It felt a bit like an exciting and scary to go without an escort. At the very least that was something her late husband had been good at. At least on arrival.


Status for recognition: [roll0]

[Leonard Van Rin]

Though he would have advised his young lord to partake in the hunt, he decided to keep his mouth shut. He was following the young lord, a shadow in a way. He was dressed in a black tunic which had a singular silver dragon head embroidered on the height of his heart. It was a gift from a merchant he escorted back during his days in Essos. Beneath it he wore a black dress shirt, this was combined with leather pants, boots and gloves of the same black colour. Of course when going to a masquerade one needs a mask. He as a matter of fact owned one…. Not that it was fancy. It covered only one side of his face, to be precise the half which contained his scar. He got this thing for when he had to deal with people of higher society.

The only thing which likely set him apart from the many guests was the sword at his hip. And well the rather characteristic hair and eye colour. Still it was his job to protect lord Casyr, no matter if it was comfortable for him or not. Thus he silently follows his young lord who in his opinion looked quite well. The signet of valyrian steel especially accented the supposed ancestry of the young lord. Bloodlines are everything in high society. And this was such a case where it indeed would matter.

[Gareth3]

Tommen bows. "I would be honoured to attend the masquerade as your servant, my Lord. I'll find out what I can about House Celtigar." Since the nobles would sooner accept a pig wearing a hat as one of their own than me.
Tommen dresses for the masquerade in finely-made but plain clothes, decorated with a simple silver pin in the shape of an acorn. When the party arrives he neither tries to get attention from the nobles nor tries to hide his identity, but quietly follows Casyr, alert for any opportunities for information.
Who should I talk to to find out more about House Celtigar? Awareness [roll0]

[Andrethegiant]

At the ferry
The ferrymen seemed preoccupied as they readied their smaller vessels, but seeing the lady Roanne nearby one of them felt the need to defend themselves. At first only general admissions of fault would be offered, but under the steely gaze of Roanne he feels the need to explain himself further. "Sorry m'lady, we had been paid to attend as ships navigated upstreams, but not a day ago a friendly lad, came with missives that there would be alternative arrangements, we were offered real gold for our troubles, and heavy coins at that".
With further prodding he offers a description of the person. A slight man, with a clean-shaven face and kind manners. However the man had a dangerous look to him and carried sword and armour which marked him as a noble. His complexion was a darker hue than most, indicating either much time spent outdoors, or time spent in the sun.


At the Masquerade
An army of servants must have swept through the corridors. The hallways are cleaned meticulously and the fresh smell of washing is in the air. However the clean tiles reveal the cracks in the marble underneath, the cleaning smells can't quite cover the old musty smell that has lingered for decades, and the tapestries along the corridor is an assortment of different styles that have been popular at different times in the last hundred years.

As you come into the grand hall, however all signs of recent abandonment is hidden. The tiles are covered in myrish carpets and dancing feet. The smells are covered by a mixture of smells of flowers and sandalwood coming from the guests. The roof is taller than 4 of Baryl standing on each others shoulders and the hall easily fits the gathered throng. The walls are covered by recently made weavings of dashing tTargaryen princes and stolid Whent knights fighting shoulder to shoulder. For a few moments the hall seems every bit as grandiose as anything the kings court could have offered.

However as a reminder of the decrepit state of the rest of the castle upon the dais sits king Aerys the second of his name, long may he live. Where the targaryens ornamenting the wall have a healthy hue to their pale skin the king is so pale as to be transluctent, only his stunningly clear purple eyes and his yellowed teeth revealed in a rictus grin gives his face any colour. Where the Targaryens on the tapestries are clean shaven the king has a long unkempt beard. The kings nails are like talons, a foot long at least, and his flowing hair has not seen a brush in years. The servants filling his cup and lord Whent to his side both unconciously keeps their distance. Among the masked guests there are plenty a scary mask, but nothing fills the nobles with dread like seeing the unmasked face of the mad king.

Casyr Scales
As soon as you enter a gaggle of courtiers seem keen to make their introduction. For every one politely brushed off another is there to take their place. Your unlikely saviour comes in the form of a tall, masked woman. Her hair is entirely covered as part of her alluring costume, but there is no way to hide the sharp purple eyes that looks out from behind the mask She shears through the gaggle like a sharp knife through the finest of
silk, and she closes just an edge closer than what would be appropriate. By moving so close she creates a bubble in the throng for the two of you. Her rosy smell is not unpleasant. "A young lord with weights on his chain, a brave choice for a secret masquerade" her low voice doesnt carry past you. "Say, my lord, would you consider yourself carefull as well as brave?"

Amyra Vaith
Like Casyr, Amyra finds herself surrounded by admirers. Where the young courtesans flock around Casyr, however, a gaggle of noblewomen wish to congratulate Amyra on her calm presence. A woman larger than most men shoulder her way to the fore and is very keen to learn how you dared take charge like that. The womans accent sounds northern, but surely northern women, famed for their headstrong nature wouldnt need simple encouragement like this?

Tommen Storm
By Amyra and Casyr getting a throng around themselves the area becomes too crowded to talk, but Tommen soon hear loud talks, with phrasing in valyrian, surely this would be the right place to search for knowledge. Although masked the three men discussing were unmistakeably maesters. Their ink-stained fingers, and one of them having forgotten to take of his maesterschain surely marked them apart. Their voices were raised high, not in argument, but for the benefit of the elder one who still wore his chain, from the tilt of his head he seemed hard of hearing.

Ethelstan Pyke
Although the young lord is swarmed by people with hungry eyes there does not seem to be a threat. As you stand there nobody really seems to mind you before a servant, looking on in sympathy, offers to take you into the servants wing next door. She confides to you that the celebration is far more lively than among the nobles.

Roanne Scales
Nobody seems to mind the woman with the lambs head moving through the crowd. There is liberty in anonymity. An older woman compliments you on your modest costume, so many young women lack a sense of propriety she confides, but else there is little of notice around Roanne.

Everybody may roll an awareness (empathy or notice), Ethelstan and Roanna, from not being seriously preoccupied may get a +1 D.

With the camp-followers
In the glow from a campfire, Baryl, can see a lithe woman approaching him from his right. Draped in thin garments that whispered of mystery her steps were measured, yet questioning as she walks towards the large knight. A teasing smile plays on her lips as she looks up and down the large man.

To Baryls left a more dimly lit fire showed a game of dice. Three bemused men, still keen eyed, sat and gambled with a squire. The squire was young, with small whiskers circling his rosy-cheeked face. His drunken gaze struggled to keep focus on his fellow gamblers as he spun a tale in a loud voice, only interrupted by the occasional hiccup and groans as he lost his coin to dice. "It is true I tell you". He tells the bemused men, "Lord Whent must be the richest man in the kingdom." To mark his point he tries to drink the last drops from an already empty cup. Then, noticing the giant Baryl for the first time he motions you over. "Come ser, we have drinks to taste and tales to share while we wait for the tournament to start."

[Ameraaaaaa]

Beryl couldn't lie. The woman was attractive. But beryl also wasn't an idiot. This could be a trap. However beryl had a tendency to be paranoid. Maybe she was just a lady who preferred spears rather then daggers.

"Men. Keep watch. I see a lady approaching. It could just be a fun opportunity. But it can also be a trap. If anything happens i want you to call for me. I won't be far."

Beryl walked to the lady.

"So i saw you walking towards me. I see you can't resist my superior physique. If you want we can have some fun in a bush a little further here about 50 meters or so. I know it's not perfect but i need to be close by to hear my men in case of an emergency. I ensure you however they won't hear us."


Sorry if this post is too lewd. I can change it if needed.

[Gareth3]

Tommen is amused at the weavings on the walls - Whent knights did fight on the same side as Targaryen princes but he doubts they were ever literally shoulder to shoulder.

He has seen the King a few times before, and his reaction has usually been a combination of fear and hatred. Now he feels nothing but pity. He looks terrible, should he even be out here? Tommen wastes a few moments trying to diagnose some specific disease behind his appearance, but quickly gives up. Just madness.

He hears loud conversation in Valyrian and turns to look. Maesters. The men who turned all learning into a celibate order, like septons with uglier clothes. Great way to promote reason and knowledge, guys, no wonder Essos thinks of us all as illiterate pig farmers. He turns away in contempt. As he follows Casyr across the grand hall, he can still hear the Valyrian, a language no-one else at House Scales speaks. He can't quite make out the topic of conversation, probably something the House Scales people wouldn't even understand the name of...

Tommen sighs. Fine, you got me. "Excuse me, my Lord." He walks back to the maesters and addresses the man still wearing his chain. "Good evening, I am Tommen Storm, retainer to Lord Scales. May I ask your name?" While Tommen speaks he studies the man's chain, trying to determine his fields of study.
What fields of study do the links on the maester's chain indicate? Knowledge [roll0]

[Andrethegiant]

Baryl Mayfol
The men give you a brief look, seeming slighttly dissapointed that you don't join them, before they go back to their gaming. "Yes, your physique certainly is impressive Ser" She tells you in a sultry voice as she gets closer. "I bet a knight of your skill must earn a lot from these tournaments, perhaps you will share a few silvers as you tell me about your conquest, show some gold and I might gossip to a few of my friends about this impressive knight who keeps us company".

Not too lewd at all, although this is no smut, that part will "fade to black", and the conversation will be the focus.


Tommen Storm
The maesters all turn to the newcomer, although wearing masks the two on the sides do not seem surprised their identity have been uncovered. The one with the chain seems surprised at being adressed by rank. After a moment of thought his hand shoots up to his collar. While not initiated in the maesters circle you recognize a single chain of the most common type: the silver chain, representing healing. You also recognize that he has many in bronze for astronomy a few iron, representing warfare and two in steel for metalwork.

"Yes young ser!" the eldest sets his gaze on you, "I am maester Dorian!", he noticeably does not share the identity of his companions. "I am the maester at Last Hearth, a position I have held for three dozen years and more! Every frostbite I have seen and every tale I have heard! Tell me does a thirst of knowledge drive you? What is your name, young ser?" At first the maesters loud voice makes him seem angry, but although his voice is raised his smile is gentle and his eyes unfocused under his mask. At his last question about your name the maester on his right reminds him "His name was Tommen Storm Maester Dorian!"

[Ameraaaaaa]

"Ahh well. How do i say it. I don't make that much. I have like 1 gold and 160 silver. And as pretty as you are i don't really want to waste that money in case my equipment breaks. Sorry madam but i guess I'll head back to my men. Have a good day and hopefully someone wealthier can pleasure you."

Beryl heads back to his men.

"Ah. Just a prostitute. Can't afford her services without emptying my wallet. So men did i tell you about the time i fought a dwarf. The tiny fella had scale and a spear 5 times his size. Can you believe it. Probably the strangest tournament fight i ever had. I won by throwing him out of the arena if you needed to ask. Your turn. Any strange tales to share."


No worries. I didn't expect smut anyways. And beryl understands the worth of money so no party time today. Btw i mean human dwarf. Not fantasy dwarf.

[Wymmerdann]

Casyr

Casyr felt his pulse quicken. In the back of his mind he wondered whether what before him was some manner of trap, but this was dwarfed by the immediate attraction, an attraction un diminished in his young mind by any threat posed by this young woman.

He paused before replying, in a voice pitched not to carry just as hers had been, “you will find me the soul of discretion, madame, as I am told discretion is the better part of bravery. What discretion would you have of me?”

(Discord roll to persuade: charm the mysterious lady: 21)

(Roll for distracted empathy. [roll0])

[Harmony]

Amyra Vaith

Amyra basks in the attention, replaying the events, with low enough voice to make outsiders curious but not overhear, falling into a retelling, exaggerated at times but never demeaning to anyone involved. Perhaps more than the wisdom of being seavessels into such a narrow space. She makes sure to stay clear of the Mad Kings gaze, not exactly hiding but keeping distance and objects in the way. His heir had married a Princess of Dorne, and was seemed like a good person, but she’d heard enough dark whispers to know which person she should stay clear off.

“Oh, I’ve been raised such.” She replied. “I’m Dorne, we have our traditions, just as anyone else. Just like when you see something that needs doing, you just do it.” She did not want to diminish on the northern women, they had not a say in how they were treated or how the customs up here kept them in wraps. She had learned that she had been fortunate for the years she had lived up north. “No different than the willingness to walk through fire to save our children, I believe.” She added.

[Batcathat]

Roanne moved around the hall from group to group, barely noticed by most, rarely saying more than a few words or nodding her head. She wasn't sure what she was looking for, but confident it would be apparent when she found it.


Awareness (Empathy): [roll0]

[Gareth3]

Tommen turns towards Dorian and raises his voice for his benefit. "I AM DRIVEN BY A THIRST FOR KNOWLEDGE!" No, too much. Tommen continues a little quieter. "I have considered training as a maester, but I decided in the end that I could never leave my family!" Not technically a lie, but the consideration was very brief. "You're from Last Hearth? What brings you all this way?"

[Andrethegiant]

Baryl Mayfol
The lady of the night suddenly looses her air of mystery as she turns on her heels and stomps off like a petulant child.
The dicethrowing men look up as you join them. "Aye, whores are becoming dearer by the day, the way I hear the young Baratheon spends his pasttime" the young squire says from his cups while his dicethrowing mates spit in agreement. "Want stories then I hear there are stories of him aplenty, want to buy in at dicing?".


Casyr Scales
The masked woman chuckles appreciatively as you lower your voice. "So you are careful as well as brave." Her swaying movements bring her closer and closer to you, forcing you to move backwards. "I have but a simple request, you see with the full announcement of events tomorrow we will see the first round of the melee, I suppose from your brave attire that you will have doughty knights at your service young lord?". Her last movement brings your back to the wall. She looks at you with those enchanting purple eyes: "I suppose if those knights could be put to good use it would reflect well on your house."

From the corner of your eyes you see a servant with a rose in her hair. Nothing remarkable about a rose, however, you have seen more people than normal with this rose, both among servants and the wealthier guests. To your keen mind you see that the rose wearing guests more frequently cluster together, even crossing the normally rigid lines of status.

So starting an intrigue, remember you are not bound by it the same way NPCs are.
Your roll is 2DOS*4 persuasion for 8 influence. She is indifferent so she has a IR of 4. She takes 4 influence.
Mysterious woman has as her objective a favour.
She rolls a persuasion, bargain, and gets a 13. Her cunning is 4.


Amyra Vaith
The northern woman beams at the returned compliment. "Very true my lady, we all have our traditions appropriate to our station. My lord husband is too frequent away, and keeping a safe castle is as much in our blood as keeping a tidy home.

Roanne Scales
As you walk around unnoticed you see a serving woman exchange a note to a lady in much finery. You can't find any distinguishing marks on the women, however the noble lady has a gait that triggers a sense of familiarity from your near encyclopedic knowledge of the nobles of the stormlands.


Tommen Storm
As Tommen shouts a few guests nearby startle, but after a quick glance they turn back to their own groups, although with a few sending some glances your way. The maester however barely startles, and come closer to put his hand on your shoulder, a gesture that would seem fatherly if he didnt use you more like a support, holding him up. "Well my boy, a shame, a shame, the thirst for knowledge quenched by family is a too common fate!" Despite his proximity his voice was still all but shouting. "The reason for my arrival is of course my duties to the lord, but tomorrow is a maesters conclave gathering the keenest minds of the realm. Any young man showing a keen wit would be more than welcome to look on, even participate if their tongue is sufficiently clear."

[Ameraaaaaa]

"Sure. 1 silver. Tell me about Baratheon. A man like him can probably afford a army of whores."

Beryl was kinda disappointed that nobody liked his dwarf throwing story. It was his favourite. Wait did these men hear it before? Ah whatever. Hopefully Beryl still had his good dice luck.

[Gareth3]

Tommen is surprised at the offer. "Thank you, I doubt I could contribute much but I'd consider it a great honour to attend." Maesters are inviting random men to their conclaves now? Not even nobles? He sees Casyr across the room and is reminded of his mission.
"Did you get caught in the ship jam, like us? Lord Celtigar was quite effective getting us untangled."

[Wymmerdann]

Casyr wondered at the roses, but could not decide if they were a fashion statement, an inside jest, or some hint at a deeper conspiracy. He made a mental note to consult with his aunt, uncle, and mother on the matter at a later time.

Instead he considered this confident lady, whose words now gave hint as to her true intent. “My house's knights are not yet spoken for in the melee, but as we have already established, I am as discrete as they are martial, and I would hazard them confidently against any save the kingsguard or Lord Baratheon himself,” he remarked boldly. Lord Robert’s martial prowess was well-known throughout the Stormlands.

He considered her implied request “I am sure they will reflect well upon my house, but if I may be so bold, it seems you would have them reflect well upon someone else as well, or perhaps some other cause? I am not averse, but it would be most undignified for me to command them to fight on behalf of a mysterious lady, enchanting though she may be. My ancient forebears have held our lands for a thousand year, and I have no intention of leading them astray. For whom would you have them draw steel?

Alright so

Intrigue Round 2:
Goal: Friendship – make you’re your offer plainly, as between friends
Disposition: Amiable (DR: 3, Persuasion +1)
Intrigue Defence: 11
Will 3. Composure 8/9
Action: Shield of Reputation : [roll0] vs passive will to improve target’s disposition

[Andrethegiant]

Beryl Mayfol
The squire leers at you. "From what I hear he does, an army of whores
to engage in very unchivalrous acts". His dicing companion, to Beryls
left elabourates: "Our Lord Mace Tyrell is from a far more noble
lineage. A lord of peace and prosperity, not debauchery. I suppose
most knights follow in the mold of their lords?"
They are trying to taunt you

Tommen Storm
"A, yes, Lord Miles. Quite the generous man. I still remember serving
as a maester at Old Oak when he rode through, for weeks after beggars
were smelling like Bravoosi incence!" The old maesters companions just
shake their head as a long dissembling on the virtue of charity to
enable gold to flow back to a lords coffers start.

Casyr
The lady leans in and tell you in a husky voice. "So you desire to unveil me, that would be unseemly, no? I need no knight to fight for my honor, however a very dishonourable knight is participating in the joust. If he happens to be injuried, even if only mildly in the melee much bloodshed can be stopped." Going back to an appopriate distance she adds: "The fights will be set up to make your task easier, and this will see your house fortune improved."

Her Will is 4. So Casyrs status does not affect her. So19 from being neutral

[Ameraaaaaa]

"Har har." Beryl says sarcastically. "I'll just say my lord is the most noble in the land. I'll hear no slander of house scales. Now let's get back to Baratheon. How did you hear this. I assume it's a known fact. I find it funny honestly. I always heard people say he's the greatest knight in the land. Personally, not to tuot my own horn too much. But if we met in a tournament i doubt they'll say that afterwards. And i know he's a fierce warrior. I mean no disrespect. But in this life of being a knight. You have to have upmost confidence in what you do. Else you will failter when the time comes. There's mental barriers some knights have. And it's deadlier then any blade. I can safely say. I don't have that weakness. And nether does he. Our fight would be talked about for the ages."

[Batcathat]

Although it might be nothing of importance – perhaps a love note sent by some not quite appropriate lover – it spurred Roanne's curiosity if nothing else. Not to mention that even a relatively innocent love letter could topple thrones in the right situation.

With that in mind, she casually walked over to stand right behind the familiar lady, placing herself so that she could both see – and perhaps even overhear – her, while also trying to keep track of the serving woman. Perhaps she had more notes to deliver.

[Gareth3]

Tommen is quite knowledgeable about the history and geography of Westeros, but he doesn't have the slightest idea what the old maester is talking about. He listens until there's a pause in the ramble, and tries to steer the conversation back.
"I'd heard Lord Ardrian Celtigar was a very difficult man, hard to work with unless he had an actual obligation to you. But he cooperated with my Lord to get us out of that jam. Have I been hearing false rumours, or has he changed?"
Persuasion test to get the maesters to talk about Ardrian Celtigar: [roll0]

[Harmony]

Amyra Vaith

Amyra nodded in turn. "It seems to be the plight of husbands, having to be away so much." Her tone was serious but her eyes glimmered with jest. She threw some glances around, noting that her Lord was separated from his chaperons, and being cornered by someone who seemed to move all to close to him. "If you will excuse me..." she curtsied and moved towards Casyr. She did not want to interrupt, but if he needed some moral support, she would be there.

[Wymmerdann]

Casyr felt his cheeks redden a shade at the mention of unveiling, feeling a raging embarrassment overwhelm his natural caution. The quiet voice of his mother's training was momentarily drowned out by the possibilities of the moment, and the whispered promises of adventure, heroism, and perhaps even romance.

“Not at all, I only meant…” he began, before catching himself, “if, some blackguard might benefit from sound rebuff in melee or joust, then my house surely has the champions to secure that end, but should I accept so blindly, what a dolt you would think me: to so carelessly disregard my family name, and the honour of the men who fight at my command.”

“If my lady hesitates to speak matters more plainly, for fear of spies among the guests, then ride the grounds with me – I shall make a gift of a fine courser to her ladyship, if only to hear her tale,” he made the offer honestly, as he had brought fine mounts with him to offer to gifts of lords of high station, but also expected to be rebuffed, as the lady seemed most at ease in her beguiling masquerade.

Alright so

Casyr burns a destiny point to take the benefit: Charismatic: Charm.

Goal: Friendship – make your offer plainly, as between friends
Disposition: Amiable (DR: 3, Persuasion +1)
Will 3. Composure 3/9
Intrigue Defence: 11

Action: Persuade: Charm to influence target: Roll 19+2(charismatic)+1(disposition)= 22. Spends a destiny point to turn a bonus die into a test die, increasing roll to 24, for 3*4= 12 points of influence on the mysterious lady if this achieves three degrees of success.

[Andrethegiant]

Beryl
The previously uncouth squire halts in his taunting. Even in a drunken state he hear Beryls confidence in his own ability. "aye, he can fight, but there is more to being a lord." He concedes, while one of his dicing companions intercedes "All we're saying is that a lord like young Baratheon is sure to spend a lot on generous feasts. Like lord Whent, he must have deep coffers indeed to even offer one tournament, while Lord Robert seems to feast with a great frequency. Lord Whent is even paying squires like Petyr here not to interfere in the stables. The stables are just too full." With hesitation, and eyeing Beryls large frame the man reaches out and offers the dicecups: "buy in is a silver".

Dice is a game of cunning or deception, Beryl is poor at both, but these are low stakes if you desire to game.

Roanne Scales
The noble ladys gait has a slowness, attempting grace, but too slovenly to succeed. Almost like a farm horse, or a tortoise. The notion of her moving like a tortoise reminds you of a letter sent by your network. Arya Estemont, wife of Eldon Estemont had such a gait, you had been informed. Lord Eldon is the brother of Cassana Estemont, the mother of Lord Robert Baratheon himself. Your hypothesis gets confirmed as you view her other actions. She looks every bit like the lady your informant in the Estemont house had informed you she'd be. Curiously,as you scrutinize her more closely you notice how she gives special attention, nodding or waving to some ladies and servants. It seems she aknowledges them regardless of status.

Lady Estemonts passive awareness (empathy) is 13.

Tommen Storm
"Young ser Ardrian? As miserly as his father is generous is my hearing. Aye, some new maesters say a son inherits as much from his mother as his father. A silly notion, easily disproven, but this is the way". One of the younger maesters interjects himself "These days Ardrian is no longer a young knight, he is the lord now!" Old Maester Dorian seems to aknowledge this new information for a moment, before continuing. "These young maesters listen to horsebreeders. They claim horses are both from the father and the mother. Imagine that. The seven creating us must surely have made us from a better mold than the beasts of burden we had for us".
Sorry, your roll for knowledge isnt good enough to find much useful sadly.

Amyra Vaith
Before you move off the large lady bows to you, but the group reluctantly lets you pass, although after you they cluster together, surely discussing how dornish traditions would marry with the andal ways. With Rhaegar set to inherit the throne this could lead to more opportunities for young women all over Westeros.
Lady Umber (giant woman) now has an amiable disposition towards you.

Casyr Scales
The lady first seem to be offended at the suggestion as her eyes, the only visible part of her, widen and her silence grows heavy. But then a pleasant, warm chuckle erupts from behind the mask. "Oh, a romantic moonlight ride is too much to resist, I will tell the whole story, I am confident that a wise lord like yourself will weigh the information given on his... Scales. However although I may reveal myself later, for tonight my identity must be hidden, although I trust you too much is at stake for this to be viable."
The lady offers to yield, revealing her whole information on a ride, provided her identity stays hidden for the near future. If not she will take frustration, which will render her a less potent foe for the rest of the intrigue.

[Ameraaaaaa]

"I'm nothing really good at dice. Too much trickery for me. That's a courters job. What about a drinking contest. I say your not a real man unless you can drink 5 pints without passing out. What do you say." Beryl beat his chest in a show of bravado.

[Batcathat]

Roanne's eyes narrowed beneath the mask as she studied the likely lady Estemont and her... what? Informants? Allies? There was something there, a spider's web in both visibility and number of threads, it seemed. But who or what was the fly the spider wanted to catch?

As she continued following the little spiderlings all around the room, Roanne tried to think of a path forward. She could approach one of them and pretend she was one of them, but with little idea of the web's purpose or participants, it would be a fool's errand. As would attempting to snatch the note, most likely.

For the moment, she remained in the background, trying to keep track of the spiderlings and, if possible, glance their true identities.

[Gareth3]

Tommen is encouraged at the maester mentioning Ardrian, but then frowns at his comments about inheritance from mothers. He supresses the urge to argue and tries to gather more information. The maester is obviously hopeless for anything recent, but there is an opening. "What was his mother like?"

[Wymmerdann]

“My lady is too radiant in her raiment for me to demand otherwise, and it would be an insult to our host’s chosen theme as well,” Casyr chuckled magnanimously, feeling like he had achieved his purpose, though curiosity blazed within him.

As he saw the Lady Amyra approaching from the corner of his eye he waved her off, knowing from past experience that his family had the resources to have him observed from a distance.

(OOC - Casyr accepts, although social convention would dictate that he be loosely followed by at least one of his retainers – in this case likely some of Amyra’s cadre)

[Andrethegiant]

Beryl Mayfool
The other men turn their backs to you, to continue the dicing. However the young squire, most of his money already lost, agrees. He leaves the circle to come over to you. "So whoever manages to swill an ale swiftest wins, all right"?

DC 15 endurance test to beat the drunkard at the first chug.

Roanne Scales
You continue to see the ladys curious interaction, she hovers her hand over her pouch where you know the note is several times.

Tommen Storm
"The Lady Celitgar is well regarded. She has Targaryen blood from her grandfathers side. Just like her lord husband charitable and with a kind heart!" At this the same retainer interjects again. "The Lady Celtigar is still alive, if she came with her son to this tournament is uncertain." With a nod he starts conversing again with the old man, who started to slip into a quite fascinating thought on whether the Celtigar line was primarily First blood or Andal, apparently there was speculation over a lot of intermixing on the claw isles.

Casyr Scales
The Lady accepts having two bodyguards for the young lord trailing them. She rides easily in the saddle with a slovenly grace. "It was too hot in there, this dress is not tailored for comfort." She confides in you. "But I suppose you need to know why I sought your favour?" She ensures your retainers are an appropriate distance behind before proceeding: "I suppose it is apparent that lord Whent has spend much gold to give this tournament the appropriate grandeur, but an appropriate question for you, young Casyr would be why. I have found for myself that my family is in grave danger. Dark plots are forming, and to stop these plots to entangle my family a young knight: Ser Jaimie Lannister, son of the hand himself, will need to be hindered from participating in the tilt. If he gets unscathed through the melee it may shake our kingdom to it's core." She looks at you: "A house like yours with a strenous hold of law at the best of time would be better off with peace, so your lands may prosper under your sharp gaze. But for that to happen I will need you to make this young knight withdraw from the tilt."

[Ameraaaaaa]

On discord rolled a 21. So i win the drinking contest.


The men drank. And drank. They kept drinking till the shouldn't drink any more... then they drank again!

While the squire was struggling to keep his liquor in beryl was singing drinking songs in a incredibly slured voice.

Eventually the squire vomited and beryl patted him on the back saying "there there. Not everyone can drink like the man bear that is beryl. That should be my nickname. Man bear. Because I'm a man with the power and endurance of a bear."

[Gareth3]

Tommen's attention drifts as the maesters' conversation goes beyond his knowledge of history, and he notices Casyr is missing. "Excuse me a moment." He walks across the room to Roanne. "Where's Casyr?"

[Batcathat]

At first annoyed at the question for distracting her from spying on the spiderlings, Tommen's words sank in as Roanne's gaze spun across the room, not seeing her son anywhere. She took Tommen by the arm and gently pulled him out of hearing range of the likely lady Estemont. Whatever game she was playing, it was better not to provide her any game pieces.

"I do not know." Her eyes narrowed as she met Tommen's gaze. "Do we have reason to worry?"

[Gareth3]

Tommen looks around and visibly relaxes. "Two of our retainers are gone too. I doubt all three were kidnapped without us noticing. So he's probably just having a private conversation somewhere and was smart enough to take bodyguards." It would be even smarter to actually tell someone where you're going, boy. He notices Amyra close by. "My Lady, did the Lord say where he was going?"

[Wymmerdann]

Casyr held his reins loosely in one hand, comfortable in his finery for now. He considered the lady’s words carefully, wincing slightly as she mentioned the relative instability of his own lands, which was not untrue, but wounded him nonetheless. He wondered at here words regarding Lord Whent. Where had this fortune come from?

Finally, he replied, “The risks and costs of such a venture are clear - all men have heard the rains of castamere and of the fate of houses Reyne, Tarbeck, and Darklyn” Casyr observed. “But the purpose and benefit remain unclear. Injure a young knight such that he cannot tilt? It could be done. But why? To bring stability and avoid war? I do not see how that follows. Paint this picture for me in finer strokes, please, for I cannot see the shape of it.”

“I am new to court and hidden dealings,” Casyr admitted, “but I know that a house’s security lies in its strong relationship with its liege and its family alliances. If your family is in peril, then it strikes me that public bonds are a surer means of safety. Appear strong, and the hand that readies to strike you may be stayed. But such things cannot be won with masks and in secret, he smiled, a little sadly, “approach my family openly and they can deal honestly and in good faith. If such public acts cannot be done, then I suppose some other means might be needed, but what you have suggested seems dangerous beyond measure. What does it truly achieve for your family and mine?”

(OOC- does he have a rough sense of her age, region of origin, or other details from awareness or status checks so far? Could another be done?)

[Andrethegiant]

Beryl Mayfol
The young squire suitably drunk gives his congratulation. After several attempts you understand his message: "I have the whole week off, look forward to drinking with you later". But as soon as he has been understood he retches and excuses himself to the latrines.

Casyr Scales
She sighs in exhasperation, clearly uncomfortable with speaking plainly: "We could both see that the king is... Unwell. Lord Lannister acts as hand of the king. And now, just as the kings condition deteriorates we see the hands son knighted at a remarkably young age, by a knight of the kingsguard. And just as the seven protectors of the king is reduced to six members. And now a tournament is being held, an excellent place for a young lancer to prove to the kingdom that he could take up the seventh place." Clearly not used to connect the dots for others the woman looks at you with great expectations.

Age: from her riding and manners not an old woman, but fully grown and likely several years Casyrs senior. The biggest hint to her heritage is her purple eyes, eyes Casyr himself mirror. Her speech would suggest that she's from the eastern side of westeros, either east in the riverlands, the crownlands or the stormlands.

[Ameraaaaaa]

Beryl heads back to the other knights and declares "well I'm ****faced. But at least i ain't a loser." Then laughs heartily.

[Harmony]

Amyra Vaith

"I'm afraid not, but he seemed to have absconded with some of our guard with the lady he was speaking too." Amira suppressed the smirk. Their Lord may be a bit to young for such adventures, and this recklessness might be benefiting for someone without his responsibilities. But it was not her place to teach these things. He was her Lord, and she had been given more than many other Lords had given her. She would allow this. "I'm not entirely to sure if she had a chaperon with her..." In Dorne, that would have been normal, but here in the north, some might see that the wrong way, and it could hurt his reputation. "Perhaps if you would want to check up on him?" she asked Tommen.

[Batcathat]

Roanne did not know whether to be relieved or upset by Lady Vaith's words and more a moment she buried her masked face in her hands and sighed. "Lord Casyr should know better than to go gallivanting with mysterious ladies." She nodded at Amyra's suggestion. "Yes, perhaps you should go find him, Tommen. I would accompany you, but perhaps it is not a..." She sighed again. "...situation where a young lord would wish to be come upon by his mother."

[Gareth3]

Tommen winces as Amyra describes where Casyr went, then reluctantly nods as he realises he is the most appropriate person to look for the young Lord. "Yes, my Lady."
Tommen questions both the Scales retainers and the Whent servants about where Casyr could have gone, specifically, and then searches outside for signs of them.
Persuasion to get more information out of the servants:[roll0]
Awareness to search the surroundings, using information from the servants:[roll1]

[Leonard Van Rin]

Ethelstan was surprised by the offer to join the servants on their littleÂ… thing. He hesitated for a moment, sure he could go with this servant but he should be by CasyrÂ’s side in case someone decided to turn the young lordÂ’s insides into his outsides. Then again they were in a space where such a thing would be foolish, but the king wasnÂ’t mentally well so if he decided to have Casyr humiliated things could go south. STOP, his own mind bashed him for over thinking all of this.

After all, whenever the young lord needs him he shall call for him and judging by the conversation heÂ’s having with the noblewoman he is not welcome at this time. Thus he took the offer of the servant, cause in the end he doesnÂ’t fit among the high society, with his surname not helping his case either (his adoptive father be damned for giving him the surname given to Iron Island bastards). He would begin to follow her to wherever this servant party was taking place.

Meanwhile his mind drifted to the goals which he could achieve during this tourney. He wasnÂ’t a jouster, but he was decent in melee. So he at least knew where he would excel. As for goals, well he would attempt to achieve whatever his lord might desire but he had one of his own. And that was to win the favor of a lady. Sure the daughters of big houses wouldnÂ’t even look in his direction but those of smaller houses might potentially accept his attempts at romance. He wanted to laugh at his own thoughts. Such a stupid goal… But so typical for him.

[Wymmerdann]

Casyr shrugged. “Ser Jaime is heir to Casterly Rock, and heirs are not usually candidates for the Kingsguard.” He paused, trying his best to see by the light of the lady’s words. “It would be a rift between House Targaryen and Lannister, an offence by the crown to Lord Tywin.” He grappled with the enormity of it, even as he struggled to see how it would impact his own house. Conflict and war between the great houses could be a terrible thing, but earning the personal enmity of Tywin Lannister by targeting his son in the melee seemed a more direct risk to House Scales.

“In good faith, if you must rely on a mask, then I can neither accept nor reject what you ask”, he finally replied, trying to affect a seriousness despite his indecision and the feeling that he needed to speak with those older and wiser before saying more. “But should I decide that this course is necessary, I shall signal my house’s involvement by wearing a silver chain adorned with the seven pointed star”.

As their horses wound their way through the grounds, he tried to lighten the mood, “your eyes bear the mark of ancient Valyria, my lady, does it come to you from your mother or father’s line?”

[Andrethegiant]

Amyra and Tommen
As you talk to servants it's apparent Casyr made quite the impression. You are easily able to find servants who shows you the way to the stables. Happily you do not stumble upon the young lord in the hay, but instead you are told he left on horseback. Perhaps him and the lady is looking for somewhere more private?

Ethelstan
Unlike the large clean hallways lord Whent has shown the underbelly of his castle is filled with narrow, snaking hallways the servants may use. There is a musty smell here, a reminder of how long the castle has stood empty. Following the steady traffic of servants you find where they have secreted away- in an old library the servants have brought cheap beer in plenty. Although the room is filled and the air is stuffy this is a far more relaxed place to stay: away from the gaze of the mad king.

Casyr
"It would be an offence by the crown. Absurd someone would say. Only a mad king would do such a thing." The lady has a slight glint in her eyes as she tries for levity. "Consider it with your councilors, no sign is needed. Have your ment on the same team in the in the melee and I can guarantee opportunities will arise. You are not the only house who seeks peace in the realm." She sounds confident in her answer.

During your conversation the ladys swift pace has led you from the fields you rode on and down by a large lake. In the middle of the lake is a small island. The lady points to it. "Long before the blood of valyria came to these shores this was a place of worship. Now it is considered haunted, a place of worship now named the Isle of Faces. Ever since the andal invasion this has been a feared place. Both of our blood, Casyr, is new to these shores. These woods have roots from before the blood of Aegon ever reached these shores. We are not as deeprooted as these forests, we may be swept away. I worry less who my parents are, and more about who my children will be." Her fingers run lightly over the back of your hands as she stops her horse to look out.

[Batcathat]

As Tommen and lady Vaith left, Roanne tried to push her son from her mind and turned back to the spiderlings and their mysterious web. It seemed unlikely she would be able to learn more from observation alone and with many people masked, picking up the thread later could be a challenge.

The people involved were unlikely to reveal anything if question, especially as Roanne knew far too little to even ask the right questions. So how to change that? Normally, knowledge was her currency of choice. With enough time, there were few people – whether man or woman, rich or poor, strong or weak – who could not be persuaded, threatened or fooled by the right piece of information. But time was short and it might be wise to offer a less sophisticated currency.

Looking between the women the likely lady Estemont seemed connected to, Roanne tried to find the poorest looking one.


Awareness (Notice): [roll0] to find poorest looking of the women in question.

[Gareth3]

Tommen waits until the servants are gone before groaning in frustration. "Left on horseback, great. They could be anywhere by now."

He pauses, thinking it over. Casyr is no idiot, he wouldn't just leave on a long trip and abandon them. So they must be relatively close, somewhere too far to walk comfortably but within an hour or so by horse, round-trip. Not just a random stretch of road, either, that's hardly romantic.

Tommen chooses the most mild-mannered of the Scales horses and saddles it, still pondering the question as he awkwardly climbs on and rides out onto the road. Which way, then?

What's a location too far to walk to, but a reasonable distance on horseback for Casyr and the woman to have ridden to? Knowledge 4, Education 2, Knowledge Focus (Geography) [roll0]

[Andrethegiant]

Roanne
With several servants bustling about Roanne soon sees an older, more haggard servant. Moving with the painful slowness of age she would be an easy prey to corner.

Tommen
There would be hard for Tommen to pick out one likely place. The Isle of faces would be the most famed place, but if this is like Roanne feared, two young nobles for a private evening, then every empty field could be their chosen destination.

[Batcathat]

Roanne walked casually through the crowd, eventually ending up behind the older servant as if by chance. Rather than looking at the servant, she kept her eyes on the king and spoke with a slightly huskier voice than normal, barely above a whisper so that no one else should hear.

"I know you are part of it", she said with more confidence than she felt. "Tell me everything and walk away with a golden dragon." No need to haggle. If the servant could be bought at all, a dragon should do it and even if it did nothing but satisfy Roanne's curiosity, it would be well spent. "If you do not, well..." She let her voice trail off.

[Gareth3]

Tommen smiles as he remembers. The Isle of Faces! Not exactly romantic, but interesting, a conversation starter. Casyr's never seen it, it's an obvious place to go sightseeing.

Tommen works out which road leads to the lake and hesitantly pulls the reins toward it. The horse responds better than he expected, turning and trotting down the road as if it had made the journey before.

[Wymmerdann]

Casyr nodded in understanding and a little awe at the GodÂ’s Eye. Part of him wanted to offer words of reassurance, or perhaps to charm or court this lady.

Instead, he found himself overcome by the moment and sat astride his mount, letting the cool night air sweep over him. Who was he to deal with the fate of the heirs of the great houses and the throne itself? A lord, true, but also a boy of five and ten. To maintain that fleeting image of the young lord, full of confidence and certainty, he kept the silence drawn around him like a cloak, hoping the lady would draw from it a more positive inference than he was otherwise capable of imparting in that moment.

[Harmony]

Amyra Vaith

Having followed Tommen and mostly kept to herself, Amyra had waved another two of her retinue to her, asking them if they had any knowledge where the young Lord had said he would be going. Not knowing much about this cold northern land, she instead choose to follow Tommen, her horse none to pleased about being taken away from heat and food to go out in the middle of the night.

[Batcathat]

Deception (Bluff): [roll0]

[Andrethegiant]

Roanne Scales
The woman gasps, if from the promises you make or the implied threats is hard to tell. "They told me to dress this way and give this letter, what more would my lady care to know?" Although the servant keeps her voice low the way she turns to face you directly seems indiscrete. From the eagerness in her eyes and the carelessness in how she faces you it seems likely she is telling the truth.

Casyr Scales
"Remember, this is our survival" her light touch on your arm and whisper in your ear seems well practiced. Without another word she gallops off into the night, leaving you looking out at the waterfront.

Tommen and Amyra
The ride down to the lake is uneventful.

Tomorrow will see the maesters conclave and the first round of the melee, before another feast will be held in the evening.

[Batcathat]

"Very good. Almost there", Roanne said, her eyes still on the king and acting as if the servant did not exist. "Who told you?"

[Gareth3]

When Tommen reaches the shore of the lake he is surprised to see Casyr on horseback with his retainers, but no sign of any woman. Did something go wrong?
"Good evening, my Lord. I did my best to find out about House Celtigar." He summarises what the maesters said. "Not much, I know, but it may help you. Even just as a topic for small talk with the Lord."

[Andrethegiant]

Roanne Scales
"I don't know" the woman collects herself for a moment before adding, "a masked woman, short, that's all I got. She paid well for a simple task."

[Batcathat]

"Very well", Roanne said, looking towards the other side of the room. "Describe her mask to me – or point it out – and you will once more be highly paid for a simple task."

[Andrethegiant]

Roanne
"the antlered one" she gasps. "Tall, but stout." You get enough of a description to remember the one from earlier.

[Batcathat]

"Good", Roanne said, as she pulled one golden dragon from a coin purse sown into her dress and pressed it into the servant's hand, briefly grasping it with her own. "If you are lying to me, I will find out and you will regret it." She let go of the hand and started walking away. "Thank you for your help."

She walked back into the crowd, on the lookout for antlers.


One dragon deducted from the my sheet in the OOC thread (though not the version in the first post, as I can't edit that one).

[Andrethegiant]

Roanne
The woman looks in awe as you hand her the coin, before she composes herself and hide it from view.

Players feel free to plan out day 2, Tentative opener coming this saturday.

[Wymmerdann]

Casyr was scarce surprised to see his uncle appear - the man had a knack for sniffing out secrets.

"It is something at least. I must say that my own evening has been quite perplexing. A noble muse with eyes of ancient valyria has descended upon with with dark words of doom and conspiracy, such that I scarce can tell if she is the author or victim of the events she portrays. Like a maelstrom she seeks to draw us into the heart of the storm and I cannot know if it is for good or ill. She claims that disabling the son of the Hand in the melee is the only way to prevent civil unrest should he compete in the joust. Whether her concern is based in truth or fable, she seems intent on acting upon it."

[Gareth3]

Tommen frowns. "From your description, I assume you didn't agree to join her plot? That was wise, it sounds like an obvious trap to me. I strongly advise that we tell the Hand's son about this as soon as possible, my Lord."