A Song of Courage and Steel

Oetje

Stormraven
Original poster
FOLKLORE MEMBER
Invitation Status
Posting Speed
  1. One post per day
  2. 1-3 posts per week
Online Availability
Really sporadic. My schedule is somewhat of a mess at times.
Writing Levels
  1. Intermediate
Preferred Character Gender
  1. No Preferences
Genres
I like a lot of genres such as magical, modern, fantasy. Anything with an interesting plot.
A Song of Courage and Steel

Welcome to the Game of Thrones roleplay, going by the name of: A Song of Courage and Steel.
It is set in a fictional past of the series and books, in which we desire to carve a story and experience for ourselves. This roleplay is going to be based first in the North of Westeros, where our characters will have to overcome the deadly hurdles that the world throws at them. Not to forget the hurdles that they can pose for each other's agenda. But let us go to it
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GM's:
| @Oetje | @Jason Targaryen | @Aliceee |

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The OOC | The Accepted Character Thread |


The year is coined as 32 TD, 32 years after the calamity that is called 'The Doom'. Or the 'End of Valyria'. A horrifying event that took out one of the most powerful realms that the world has ever seen, all within a day. The maesters haven't yet figured out what could have lead to the catastrophe as the effects would ripple across the world. Yet, in Westeros many would be far from affected. Save it from grumbling maesters that started to insist that they now were starting to count years. With a starting date the end of the Valyrian Freehold.

On Westeros, life just continued as it has done before. Six kingdoms present, locked in constant distrust and strife with one another. Only recorded history shows that several times the status quo has been challenged and shifted. Such as what happened a few decades ago when the Ironborn underneath the leadership of House Hoare invaded the continent. Even managing to take the geographical area that is known as the Riverlands.
Ever fearful of the Ironborn growing more powerful the Kings of the Reach, Rock and Storm considered several times a military alliance. While linked in both culture as religion, no alliance would be able to hold due to the distrust and dispute over who actually should hold the Riverlands if the Ironborn are driven back to the sea.

But our story isn't either in Essos or south of the Neck. We will move our gaze to the largest region on Westeros: the North.
The North is filled with vast wilderness, forest, pine-covered hills and snow-capped mountains. Specked with villages and holdfasts. And we can't, of course, forget that it is cold. So cold that even in the years it is summer, it occasionally snows.
Ruled by Darrik Stark, the King of the North, there has been a sense of peace for some time now. If we turn a blind eye to the political intrigue that the nobility constantly fuels in hope to increase their status, wealth and influence. And, preferably, kicking down their rivals in the process of doing so. And not to forget those Ironborn, who raid the western coast of the North and have attempted several times to conquer the swamps that form the Neck.

But our story doesn't begin with the Starks of Winterfell. We turn our gaze to the House of Bearon, who have been forced to mourn the passing of the late Lord Jorvan Bearon. A house that is sworn to the Starks but haven't been able to enjoy their protection as their rivals are surrounding them.
Two rival houses have started to take more direct action. The House of Langdale who have started to gather allies, for they dare to proclaim with fabricated claims that half of the Bearon lands are rightfully theirs. Several times now, have the Langdale trespassed with their forces. Stirring unrest and invoking fear among the folk that are sworn to House Bearon.
The second house is that of Norcross. Though less direct, they have been a thorn in the side of the House of Bearon for quite some time. Subtly, they have started to undermine any attempt by the Bearon family to gain any allies or improving their standing within the realm. Through intrigue, bribery and more shrewd actions, it is clear that the house of Norcross has no benevolent intents.

As that ain't enough trouble, a large band of men have settled within the Wolfswood. Troubling good and honest folk who attempt to make a living. Some say that this large band of brigands are deserters from the Night Watch. Yet, some dispatch this as nonsense spoken by the smallfolk who don't know any better.

With the rise of a new lord of House Bearon, time will tell if this house and her vassals will prevail against the coming storm. Or if they will be silenced, only becoming a mere footnote in the victorious history of others.
 
It has Just Begun
"How many?" Drevyn look was one of steel as he studied the map, the locality divided neatly into various colored sectors and subsectors denoting the lands of the various lords and bannermen within those geopolitical borders. "A whole band m'lord, likely threescore or more, they've taken to the Wolfswood." Drevyn studied the sergeant for a moment, noting the man's dark hair and grizzled, windblown face. His face was set into an almost permanent squint, the leather hauberk he wore only serving to contrast even further with the hair and windswept faced. "Very well, send a man to the lands of Lord Ashwood and Lady Haerton, have them both come here as soon as possible, I expect no delays." The sergeant nodded, then turned and left. Drevyn turned back to the map. It was rolled out on the small table that had been his father's warchamber, and his father's before him, and so on. The small stone room was lit by candles, the chairs and table crafted some time ago from oak, though Drevyn did not concern himself with anything other then what was on it. How to deal with the current situations at hand was something that had been plaguing him for days. Ever since his father's death it had been a precarious balancing act. He had done his best to keep his hold from eroding and the name of Bearon being swept into obscurity, but it had been no small feat just maintaining what he had, and that had been with some protections from the Starks. Now, with the Langdale fabricating claims, and the Starks not doing anything to stop them, Drevyn had no doubt what would soon happen. The Langdale had lusted after their lands for some time, the writing was on the wall. They would try and storm this keep, slay him and his kin, and take from the house of Bearon all that they had so carefully built.

It was no small secret that Drevyn had been unprepared to take his father's place. He had expected to have at least ten more years before he would have to do so, and so he had come to rely heavily on his advisers to bring him through this time. The bandits of the Wolfswood was only the latest in a long series of problems that had been building ever since he had last had his advisors to the keep. For now he would hold off on any action, it would not take long for either to arrive, and he would not be surprised if Lady Haerton had already taken matters into her own hands. If she had not of course, he would personally lead Bearon troops to deal with the issue. Bandits, particularly broken men, could not be tolerated so close to one of his vassals. To fail to deal with such an issue would be an obvious sign of weakness to another house. Standing up straight, he opened the door of the war room and exited into the hallway, taking the path through his keep to the great hall, were he could take an audience with folk who sought it from him. He'd also be able to have his meal, which was something he was going to do as of the moment. He was hungry and thought he might have the mid day meal that was typically prepared. It was better to think over troublesome things with a full belly, in Drevyn's opinion.
 
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A good start of the day begins with...
[ Liana of Haerton | In the village of Haerton | Starting the day ]

Inhaling slowly, Liana was busy with her morning tasks. It all started with the very first and that was taking care of hygiene. After all, bad dental hygiene led to disease. Grabbing a freshly cut off hassle twig would be her tool.
Using a knife, she would carefully cut a part from the long twice. Around the length of a small knife. Only to follow it with putting one end of the twig in her mouth, to carefully chew on it. Removing the twig after a moment away from her mouth, Liana inspected one end of the twig that she chewed on.

Content with the result, which was all chewed up and being soft - much like a brush, Liana would start to brush her teeth. The mild taste of wood wasn't that unpleasant or annoying. Only the small pieces of wood and bark had to spit out. A small bowl already served as dumpster for that as Liana wasn't very fond of spitting on the floor.
Done with her first task, Liana would advance to the next. In a rather disciplined fashion, she started to clear her room and ready for today's work.

The thought that she couldn't head to the outskirts of the Wolfswood was somewhat annoying. Some of the herbs and plants that grew there provided a good amount of what she needed. The few plants that she grew next to the house would help her to fetch a few coins and services. But they wouldn't suffice on the long run to brew the necessary tonics that people asked for on a regular base.
Diligent as she appeared to be with quickly cleaning her room, Liana proceeded to head outside. Early in the morning, there were some people awake in the large village. Folk that probably prepared for a long day of honest labour. Or just couldn't sleep.

If anything, Liana didn't yet expect anybody to pay them a visit in the request for her services. Going to the small garden, that stuck out apart from other gardens of nearby houses. Instead of small gardens that seemed to focus on some small production of vegetables, potatoes and the like, Liana's garden was a bit larger. And seemed to have organised weeds and small plants.
Not that much had grown with the winter season lasting for some years. Yet, Liana had kept good watch over her plants in order to keep them from entirely perishing out. Her hard work seemed to somewhat pay off as a quarter of her collection survived the dreadful winter.
Most of the plants that survived could be used as a recipe for some tonics, soporific and a few recipes. Arguably allowing her and the household to gain some bits of necessary coin.

Getting up and straightening her back, a certain stench penetrated Liana's nose. The unwanted smell had something as what one could expect from a Valerian Root, a reeking scent that had something mild that reminded Liana of sweat. Turning, she produced a somewhat forced smile on her features.

"Oi, kid," a masculine man resonated through the area as Laina caught sight of who approached her. It was practically one of their neighbours who went by the name of Rodrick. Even in spite of his not so alluring scent, it was a rather friendly chap. If you also ignored the rather large facial hair formation - that seemed to be the result of a mammoth laying down on Rodrick's face, only to leave behind all his hair sticking to the man's chin and cheeks.

"Hm?" Liana responded, not in any sense interested for small talk. As nice as it was to talk with Rodrick, one could only sustain themselves for so long in his 'aroma'.
"Do you have some of that stuff that can help people to sleep? The wife is having trouble to find some decent sleep. Keeping me and the others awake, you see."

Liana nodded instead of giving a verbal response, at first.
"I can prepare something. Come within a few hours from now and I will have something at the ready."
The man flashed a wide smile, his teeth visible. "Dandy. I hope it is the same price as before."
Liana only nodded slowly to indicate the answer to his question. Watching the large man take his leave, Liana would turn on her heels and head inside.

Entering the house as quiet as she could, Liana moved to prepare her satchel and pouch. There was no telling if anybody else in the small house was yet awake. And with some luck, she could perhaps attempt to venture out to replenish her stock. Once more she thought about what people had been talking about. A large band of brigands occupying a southern area of the Wolfswood. A rather weird place for brigands, Liana thought to herself. Not the best spot to prey on traders. And how much coin could they get from threatening or attacking woodcutters, hunters or such folk?
Some people...
 
A Field Less Visited
[ Sven of Haerton | Just East of Haerton ]

The fact brigands decided to step into the Wolfswood had certainly bothered him. It hurt his livelihood, not being able to enter and hunt the creatures of the woods freely as he normally would. Maybe it was a part of the reason they did it. If the Hunters of the area could not fulfill their duty to the fullest, then it would hurt the food supplies. Which would, in turn, hurt the people that reside in the area. And then the brigands would come in, offering all the goods from the Wolfswood forest in what they consider to be a 'generous' price.

But if there was one thing Sven knew, it was that even if the Wolfswood provided the best hunting grounds, it didn't make it the only hunting grounds.

Overlooking a rather clear field, Sven had a deer in his sights. The creature probably ran away from something that scared it, and was now calmly eating some grass. Sven made as little sounds as he could while he raised his bow and started to aim. Gently placing an arrow and then pulling it, he breathed deeply, and made for a final time, made sure nothing was around the field. It wasn't the best time to hunt, as visibility was hurt with the still low light, but to Sven, it meant that there was a good likelihood no one else would try to hunt in the area. This was, after all, one of the training areas for future hunters, before they would be sent into the Wolfswood.

Focusing his sight on the deer, Sven released the arrow. He quickly took out another arrow and prepared his bow once more, in case the deer did manage to survive his first one. It seemed that luck was on Sven's side, and the first arrow struck the deer head, making it fall on its side. Lowering his bow and putting the arrow back, he started to jog towards the animal. Upon reaching it, he saw the small pool of blood that slowly surrounded the head, and Sven more properly saw his arrow hit the neck of the animal, not the head like he initially thought. Sudden movement from the deer made it clear it was suffering. Sighing, Sven knelt down, and after a bit of struggling to get a proper grasp over the panicked animal's head, ended its suffering in one smooth movement. The animal stopped moving, and Sven briefly looked over it. The deer was far from his ideal hunt, but if it meant ensuring his family kept going for another day or two, then so be it.

Taking a bit of time in the same spot, Sven eventually separated the skin from the body. The skin wasn't the best quality, but it was better than having nothing. Rolling it carefully, Sven then grabbed a hold of the deer, throwing it over his shoulders, before grabbing a proper hold of the skin. Standing up carefully, he noticed the sky getting more visible as the light grew. Knowing this meant that the shops in Haerton would be opening up, he started to walk slowly towards Haerton. Being the first one to provide some meat and deer skin would surely give him more points in the butcher and tanner's eyes. And perhaps a good piece from the deer.
 
A long way from home
[ Tamsyn Grimm | On the road between Fowlfield and Braewood Keep ]

“Seven preserve me.” From the wobbly perch atop her mount, Tamsyn watched as a peasant leading an ass passed in the opposite direction. There was something almost offensive about how comfortable the man looked considering how lightly dressed they were. Wrapped tightly in a black fur cloak that felt like it weighed almost as much as she did, Tamsyn was shivering. She could barely recall a time in the weeks since she had set foot in White Harbour that she hadn’t been. It was the same for her guards. Pride meant they were trying to hide it; each was a hardened sailor who could lift a pig with one hand and a cask of ale with the other, but she could tell they were feeling the cold. Like her, their cloaks were pulled tight. Exposed flesh only made an appearance when absolutely necessary and was quickly covered up once its task was done.

Greyshield wasn’t considered a warm place by anyone in the Reach. Completely exposed to rages of the Sunset Sea, the climate could generously be called inclement. However, in comparison to the North, in Tamsyn’s mind, her home was practically Sunspear. How an entire kingdom’s worth of people lived in a placed so frigid was beyond her. South of The Neck, Northerners had a reputation of being a grim, mirthless lot and now she was in their lands Tamsyn could see why. It was hard to imagine much joy or merriment in such a bleak place. If it wasn’t for her duty to her house and home she would have set sail south almost as soon as she had arrived; or at least have made herself a near permanent installation in front of some inn’s fire instead of arduously traipsing across the kingdom.

“How much farther to Braewood Keep?” The man leading Tamsyn’s horse slowed slightly as he craned his neck to look at her.

“Not much ya ladyship. Should be able to see the keep soon enough.”

A grimace flashed across the southern nobles face momentarily before Tamsyn got a grip on her emotions. The man who went by Grant or something similar had said much the same the last time she had asked no short while ago. “Very well. If possible let us make haste. I would like to be somewhere warmer before too long.”

“As you say mam.”

In the privacy of her head, Tamsyn doubted the man. She didn’t think him dishonest but couldn’t help but wonder if he was more than a little simple even by small folk standards.



Quite a while later, the flame haired lady of Greyshield stepped shakily down from her horse in the shelter provided by Braewood Keep’s outer gatehouse. Gingerly, she stroked the beast’s neck while one of her guards held the reins. Tamsyn never felt quite a home with horses. They hadn’t featured much in her childhood, and she could never quite tell what they were going to do next. All the same, the creature had delivered her here well enough and deserved a little praise for doing so. Besides, it gave Tamsyn a few moments to let sensation return to her feet. Once she felt able to walk well enough to not unduly risk landing on her face, Tamsyn lowered her hood and began to stride purposefully towards the gatehouse of the keep proper.

“I seek an audience with your lord.” Tamsyn smiled momentarily at the assembled guards as she entered the square stone tower before continuing lest one of them have the chance to interrupt her. “I would be obliged if one of you could find somewhere warm for my men to recover from our journey while another of you seeks out your master. Tell him the Lady of Greyshield requests an audience.” Fully expecting the slack jawed look of bemusement she sometimes saw in The Reach at the mention of her home, Tamsyn rapidly added “It’s an island in the Reach.”
 
[ Duncan Ashwood | small-Lord of Fowslfield ]
[ Fowslfield Manor ]


A grumble escaped his lips as he tried to hang on to the soothing darkness of sleep. The fact that somebody opened the door meant that there was work to be done. Irritation and frustration started to fester and mould Duncan's mood as he would half open his eyes.
Gazing at the servant, who had bowed his head, Duncan felt more like to throw something at the young lad.
"Aye, I am coming."

Thus dismissing the servant, Duncan felt more to just fall back into sleep. He had this great dream and wanted to return to it. It was certainly more pleasing than to see who had requested his presence. The irritation and frustration of before started to creep and dominate the man's mood more. Never the less, he would climb out of bed and started to get dressed. His clothing would be of decent quality but yet lack any decorativeness that one could ever expect from a low nobleman.
Exiting his 'chamber' and entering the hall of his manor, Duncan scoffed as he saw who had requested his presence. Standing on the higher elevation, where his seat was located, Duncan stared down at a man bearing the colours of House Bearon.
"Yes?" Duncan said as he would take place in his seat. While he was far from a good mood, it would be lying if he said that he wasn't curious.

"My lord Ashwood. Your liege-lord, of House Bearon, has requested your presence at Braewood. It is of parama--" the man wanted to continue but Duncan already rose up.
"The master summons its dog, eh? Go back to your lord and tell him that he doesn't need to blow that whistle any longer." Flashing a grin, Duncan subtly waved the messenger off. Who in return seemed utter confused that formality was pushed aside.

Now alone with some of his own guards and servants, Duncan's grin vanished rapidly. Turning to one servant, he spoke his first order of the day.
"Wake up the bastard. I got a small task for her," he began, only to turn to another servant. "You wake up my brother at once. Seems we are going to Braewood."

With the two servants going away, Duncan slid back into his seat. His gaze seemed focused on the two doors that formed the entrance or exit of the manor's hall.
But he was already pondering for what reason he was summoned to Braewood Keep. Chances were huge that it had to do with the growing political danger that surrounded the House of Bearon. Having two rival houses that preyed on every kind of weakness, slowly suffocating the House of Bearon of allies and resources, would indeed be bad. At least, for the House of Bearon. If anything, it was highly unlikely that he would just be thrown out of Fowlsfield.
Then again, he was certain that his best bet was to aid his liege-lord. The current lord was a young lad that could appreciate the help of more experienced folk.

"Perhaps enough," Duncan mumbled to himself as his mind started to work on potential outcomes and what he desired out of the mess he would soon be thrown into.
 
[ Eyme Haerton | in Haerton ]

Inhaling softly, Eyme kept staring at the map that was drawn. It was by far not the fanciest map one could imagine. It was rather 'rugged' compared to what a competent maester or topographer could create. But it served its purpose rather well and that was most important to Eyme right now.

"They are located here. According to the last counting, we lost around twelve to fifteen people. Three have gone missing but judging how things go," the man who spoke briefly shrugged as the three lives were already forfeit, a waste of hope and effort to imagine that they could be saved. "Currently, most folk heed to the instruction to not venture towards the woods. But some are starting to get worried. Some folk even dare say that it is a matter of time before those bastards get quite confident and prowl ever closer."

Eyme exhaled softly as she took in the information. The current situation wasn't a pretty one. Anybody sensible could understand that, just by learning that a large band of brigands had decided to settle close. Within the confines of the Wolfswood. An area that was already dangerous due to its wildlife and fauna. Untamed and harsh, anybody that wasn't aware of its dangers would have a hard time to survive. It stayed silent as the present people rested their gaze on Eyme.
"Has there yet been any good counting on how many we are dealing with? What kind of equipment those men are using?" Eyme asked, her tone as sharp and cold steel, slicing through the silence.

It remained silent as Eyme looked back. In front of her were some members of her guard, Haerton's militia and added with some hunters. A small group of men that had been tasked to find more information about the troublesome band of brigands, without risking their own lives.
"Great." Eyme mumbled, her mood quite audible as she straightened her back. Placing her fists against her hips, she laid her gaze on the roughly drawn map.

"I want ---"

Before the woman could finish her sentence, the doors at the back were opened. The guards that were supposed to bar out any curious folk would step aside after opening both doors to the hall, allowing a man inside. It was rather easy to judge by the clothing why this man was allowed inside, for it betrayed his service to the House of Bearon.
The man glanced at the group before laying his gaze on Eyme, who remained silent.

"I come from Braewood Keep with the request for Lady Haerton to assemble with his lordship, Lord Ironskin Bearon," the man announced. His words echoed through the hall for a moment as some of the present men turned their attention subtly towards Eyme.
The woman had a blank expression, staring at the man that brought the message from Braewood Keep. The silence started to weigh heavier. Causing a visible reaction as the messenger seemed worried. His lips parted but before a word could leave his lips, Eyme replied.

"Then go back. We know the way towards Braewood Keep. Good travels." Eyme said, causing the messenger to nod. He was about to say something but the stern watch of the present men made him rather swift to leave as fast as he had come.

Already Eyme predicted already the reaction of the men gathered in the hall. Their lips parted to voice their objection to seeing their leader take leave towards Braewood Keep. Certainly with the lurking danger of the brigands nearby, threatening their community and economy.
"I will first craft a plan on how we will deal with this nuisance. Then, I will take leave towards Braewood Keep. You have my word."



As the men started to leave the hall, Eyme subtly gestured to one of them to wait. The man in question, a member of her guard, didn't respond but simply stood aside and waited.
Once certain that she could pass on the instruction, Eyme would send the guard to find a certain hunter for her.
 
An Interesting Morning
[ Daella Snow | Braewood Keep ]

The day had certainly started as most days had for the girl. She had gone about what simple duties she had around the castle, moving quietly and quickly through the halls to try to avoid the glares and whispers that so often followed her around. Not that the words and glares held any true threat towards Daella, or at least she thought, but they were truly a pain to deal with. Throughout her morning duties, Daella always tried to avoid as much contact with others as she could. Particularly with her older 'sister', could she even be seen as family, as she felt no desire to waste time dealing with Brylee's attitude towards her. Unfortunately for Daella, she was a bastard of the late lord and the attitude that her older sibling took towards her was not terribly uncommon around the castle. At several points during the morning, the Snow did debate sneaking out to go visit some of the commoners she had found to be quite enjoyable to talk to. Yet she knew this was not something she could afford, as her brother might need something from her.

At some point during her duties, she heard talk of somebody at the gates, and the girl's curiosity was piqued. Making her way quickly towards where this person happened to be, Daella arrived just as the 'Lady of Greyshield' requested an audience with the lord of the castle. Not exactly a very formal introduction, Daella thought to herself. Especially for somebody hailing from some strange island in the Reach. The blonde girl felt a small smile as she looked towards the red-haired southerner, amused at the way this woman carried herself as if that name or title really carried weight in the North. If one were to ask Daella, she almost as if more respect should be shown for appearing unannounced at a Lord's keep and wanting an audience. As one of the men turned to head back towards the keep, the blonde haired girl moved over to stop him. "I'll take the message to Lord Bearon, you stay here and help take of our guest, please." She said in a polite tone, wearing a kind expression as the man nodded slowly. While opinions of her were not the best, being Lord Bearon's cupbearer did something to show that the Lord trusted and that much-carried weight. Heading back towards the castle, Daella had her new mission in hand, to bring the word of their guest to Drevyn, and admittedly she was curious how he might respond to the strange southerner.
 
Lady Brylee of House Baeron

Today, Brylee’s morning felt odd, yet somewhat invigorating. Her daily bath in roses and warm water offered a peaceful sentiment to the harsh times and the refinement of her life story. She was as calm as ever, not as loud as her ladies in waiting were used to. Her room had always been a space to reflect, have hot tea, and watch the invisible wind carry a fresh breeze on the air, cold and unfeeling, as was the environment of the North.

Breakfast had been awkward per usual, as Brylee’s passive-aggressive glares and subtle threats at Daella struck an imbalance in the mood of the household, likely for the rest of the day, not that Daella seemed affected by her criminalization of the bastard. The breakfast ended with Daella leaving for her duties and thereafter, Drevyn scolding Brylee for her intolerable, childish behavior towards Daella.

Brylee’s fingers had rubbed over the locket that danced around her neck, as she’d kept her head high before she made her exit. Daella had no place at their dining table. Gossip and cross stitching seemed to take up the passing time. It was only when Brylee felt a calling to the library that her senior lady in waiting, Farrah, put all their tools away. A distinct conversation was made not long after her walk.

Eager to put her toes in the snow and ground herself, once she heard Daella left to speak with Drevyn, Brylee approached the gentleman and the newcomer- this ‘Lady of Greyshield’ from the Reach. A petite figure with bottle green eyes that demanded respect and resolve. She raised a brow at the guard nearby and smiled, dismissing the man, “Shoo. Do what the Lady says. Find a warm place for her men and make sure they are given food and water after their long journey. We wouldn’t want our guest to feel unwelcome.”


“Of course, M’lady.”

Brylee turned back to the Lady of Greyshield and beckoned her to follow, “It’s a pleasure to have you… Lady of Greyshield, was it? You must be tired and cold after a long journey. Allow me to escort you to a place where you may rest your legs while you wait for an audience with my brother.”

The pair arrived in a cozy guest parlor, free from distractions, with the fireplace roaring and crackling to infuse warmth and stillness into the atmosphere. Brylee ordered Farrah and her other ladies in waiting to make sure their guest was comfortable. Meat, cheese, and fruit were prepared upon Brylee’s demands, as was hot tea to help the Lady of Greyshield accommodate herself to her foreign surroundings.


“Tell me, Lady of Greyshield- what is your real name, so that I may address you properly?”


@conman2163 @Jason Targaryen @Applo
 
[ Dyanne Snow | Fowlsfield ]


Mentioning of:

Lord Duncan Ashwood - @Gerontis
Bredon Ashwood - @AceSorcerer


Splashing the water against her face, the cold sensation did scare the drowsy state away. Blinking with her eyes as she straightened her back, Dyanne tried to shake away another sensation. Once more she had suffered a nightmare that had made her night rest rather unpleasant. The worse was that she couldn't remember a lot of the details. Other than that it wasn't pleasant.
Musing to herself that it was perhaps for the better that she couldn't remember, Dyanne started with her own morning rituals. It started with cleaning the small but cosy room that was hers. Where it lacked space or luxurious furniture that could likely provide more comfort, Dyanne wasn't going to complain or hope for more. If anything, she was sure that it could be much worse.

The small mundane task was rather quickly dealt with. Leaving Dyanne to exit her room. If anything, the smell of the last evening where Lord Ashwood had drunk with some of his men still penetrated her nose as she passed was nearby the hall. Those evenings were usually the ones where she could do her task and have some pride. After all, she was barred from partaking in drinking and was just there. Standing silent and pouring drinks for her lord and father. As well as having a knife at the ready to come to his aid if there would be such a need. Thank the Gods though, Dyanne further mused, that such need hadn't occurred yet. Even if it would perhaps gift her a chance to gain more of Lord Ashwood's approval.

Exiting the large manor that sat on a high hill, Dyanne moved closer to the edge. It provided a good view of the buildings and homes of those who called Fowlsfield their home.
Dyanne's gaze travelled towards the main gate, where she could witness that a company of men entered. It wasn't that unusual that people came to Fowlsfield. The usual folk were from the hamlets that were within the domain of House Bearon that came to trade, as Fowlsfield was closer than Braewood Keep or Haerton to their farms.

Quickly, however, Dyanne noticed that they weren't the usual folk. None of them came on horseback and the small group certainly didn't look like farmers. Yet it was hard to see what they were.
Driven by her curiousity, Dyanne started to move from her spot. Heading towards the steep climb that one had to undertake to reach the front of her father's manor. By the time that she was close to the top of the steep climb, the group of riders were crossing one of the bridges to get to the base of the climb.
Perhaps she should warn her father or uncle? The question was quickly driven away as she could then recognise the attire of the men on horseback.

"Bearon's men," Dyanne mumbled, as she would start to make some distance. There was no reason to be afraid that something would happen to her. But she felt more like to stay out of sight.
Hearing the hooves and grumbling of men getting closer, Dyanne waited at the corner of the manor.
Eyeing the small group as they would be welcomed by her father's servants and guards, Dyanne wondered what could have brought them to Fowlsfield.
Deciding on something, Dyanne used the same way that she had exited the manor from the back, to get back in. As she ran inside, she nearly stumbled straight into a guard.

"Sorry," she mumbled, wanting to pass the guard.
The man, however, brought her to a quick halt as he spread his left arm.
"Your father asked for you, Snow," he said in a calm tone. "In the hall, best go now."
Nodding, Dyanne would continue on her way but instead of running would opt to just walk in a brisk pace.
 
Ferron // Fowlsfield

When news came in that the Lords were gathering, Ferron had set aside his sword-to-be and started counting nails instead. Because nails, he decided, were infinitely more distracting, and nails, numerous already and growing in number, didn't make him think of Lords. Or men gathering in the wood for nefarious purposes. The tavern down the road needed repairs as much as he needed ale, so counting the nails he'd need to have carted down was as purposeful a pursuit as any.

“What kind of men join the watch, do y’ think?” Mavon asked, wagging his charred hammer in the air when Ferron made his disinterest clear. “What happens if they want to pay a visit?”

Ferron counted his sixty-eighth nail. “And start a fight? What’s wrong with that? The more soldiers fight, the more swords they lose, and the more swords they lose, the more swords I need to make. I get paid for swords. I pay for ale with the coin I make making swords.” Seventy-three. “They can gather all they like, I don’t much care. More for me.”

Mavon scoffed in that raspy way of his. He was a paranoid man, and maybe that was why his steel was so fine and diligently made. "Won't be any ale if the watchmen get it. C'mere an' help me with this."

But murmurs of men leaving for Braewood had made him curious enough to poke his head out of the smithy to get a glimpse of the commotion before Mavon's whining brought him back in. The Lords would figure it out as they always do, while he could smother his anxiety at the tavern later. Dumping the nails clutched in his hands back into the bin, Ferron returned to Mavon's side to resume his work on his unfinished sword.

The nails would have to wait; soldiers needed swords, and he needed ale.
 
A First Meeting
Tamsyn & Brylee Collab

As she was guided into a comfortable looking parlour room by a woman who was presumably the lady of the keep, Tamsyn’s eyes fell hungrily on the roaring fire on the other side of the room. Loosening her cloak, she slipped across the room to bask in the blazes warmth while her hostess made arrangements with their attendants. The heat was almost painful on Tamsyn’s icey skin, making it feel like she was being stabbed by hundred of needles. She didn't move away though, but rather, took half a step towards to the flames, pulling her cloak back to fully exposed herself to the fire's warmth. If she had been alone, Tamsyn would have taken the cloak fully off and turned around so as to warm her behind. That however, was not something to do in the company of strangers or really anyone who wasn't one of her sisters.

“Tell me, Lady of Greyshield- what is your real name, so that I may address you properly?”

Straightening up, Tamsyn turned and flashed a smile at her hostess. “Officially? Lady Tamsyn Grimm of the Greyshield. I am quite fine with being addressed by Tamsyn if it suits.” Gliding across the room towards her brown haired hostess, Tamsyn bobbed into a slight curtsey, a faint smell of roses filling her nose as she did. The height difference meant she could still see easily over the woman’s head. This was something Tamsyn was used to and for her part she carefully didn’t notice it.

“How may I address you Lady Bearon?”

“Lady Brylee of House Bearon, though I don’t mind being addressed by my name. You’ve come a long way from the Reach and you’re freezing. It must be terribly hot there,” Brylee assumed, gesturing for Farrah to give Lady Tamsyn a cup of hot tea. “I must ask, what brings you here? You’ve sacrificed much of your health, surely, to step foot in the North.”

Gratefully accepting the fragrant tea with a silently mouthed thanks to the attendant who handed it to her, Tamsyn took a sip of the hot liquid before answering, feeling its warmth travel deep inside her. “I have some business to discuss with your fellow lords and ladies about a problem that both the Reach and North share. It is a long way to travel, but such conversations are best had face to face.” There was a pause as Tamsyn took another divine sip of the tea.

“Sometimes a little discomfort is something we must endure for the sake of duty. Where I come from is not terribly warm my lady Brylee, at least not by the standards of the Reach. Compared to here, though… Well, I have never owned a garment like this before in my life.” One hand lifted the edge of the heavy black cloak towards Brylee for a moment before allowing it drop again.

“You were brave to travel this far. The winters here are not always kind to newcomers. Rest assured, your men are being taken care of. I can’t imagine what problem we may share, being far apart and only meeting for the first time now. It’s amusing what time does to us and how that shapes the future. I don’t believe I recall my brother sending for you,” Brylee noted and took a sip of her tea. A servant laid out the tray of snacks in front of Brylee and Tamsyn. “Eat what you’d like. You must keep your strength up, if you are to speak with my brother. He’s young, but he’s not dumb. He knows his way around grit and truth.”

“I must thank you for such a hospitable welcome.” Slender fingers passed by the cheese and meats, of which Tamsyn had eaten enough in the last few weeks to last a lifetime, picking at some of the choicer bits of fruit instead. It was nothing compared to the delights to be found in the Reach, but a very welcome reminder of home nevertheless. “You are right that I was not sent for. My visit is more... speculative shall we say. There is a growing feeling in my home that decisive action should be taken against those seaborn vermin infesting the Riverla-”

Brylee’s suspicions raised, though her time of good hosting was done when Drevyn, Daella, and a few guards stormed into the parlor.

“Drevyn-!” Brylee exclaimed, shocked by his sudden arrival. Before any further exchange of words were done between brother and sister, Brylee and her ladies in waiting were politely escorted back to her chambers by two of the guards, leaving Brylee confused and without answers. It would stay like this for around two hours, with neither able to leave the rooms they had been placed in.


@Applo @conman2163 @Jason Targaryen
 
A Good Day for a Walk
[ Sven and Liana of Haerton | Haerton ]

A Collab between Aliceee and Nim

Summary:
Liana and Sven have an enjoyable stroll to the Wolfswood to pick up some herbs for Liana. They talk a bit along the way.


It took some time to prepare the requested tonic, the one that Rodrick had requested. While preparing the requested brew, Liana pondered if she shouldn’t have asked for more. In return for the brew, Rodrick would provide them with some chopped wood that could be used for in the fires. A handy trade of necessities such as she engaged in, was quite common in a place like Haerton among the smallfolk.

Done with the brew, Liana did decide to not yet venture to their neighbour. First, she would start to clean up what little mess had been conjured by her work. Afterwards, she decided to prepare herself for what she had in mind earlier this morning. Preparing to head out to gather some herbs and plants that didn’t grow in the small garden.

Bringing the first hunt of the day was always beneficial. Sven needed to wait for a bit while the butcher went and cut the deer into the appropriate pieces, but then managed to secure a decent piece, thanks for being the first one to bring fresh meat for the day. He also managed to secure a bit of preserving salts, something that always helped. Once he was done at the butcher’s, he made his way to the tanner, and traded the deerskin for some tanned leather. He knew his quiver was beginning to wear out, so getting leather to make a new one seemed like a good idea.

Once he was finished with the business outside, Sven made his way back home. The little structure he and his daughter called home, anyway. They did share it with his sister and grandfather, but Sven was actually happy about that. It meant they were always there to help if they needed it.

Arriving at the house, Sven opened the door and stepped inside. The first thing he spotted was his daughter, who appeared to be preparing her tools for something ”Morning. I got us some deer for dinner.” He first said, going to the side and putting the meat in its place. Turning to look at Liana, he scratched his cheek ”Planning on harvesting some herbs?” He then asked.

A slight surprise was evident on Liana’s features as Sven came in. "Mhm, I want to go to the edge of the forest to restock on some supplies." She answered in return. Her right eyebrow did slightly perk up as she decided to pose a question back. "So, deer? I was actually hoping that we could eat something else." There was a sliver of amusement, marking it clear that she wasn’t ungrateful for the fact that they actually could enjoy some deer.

"Anyhow, Rodrick approached me this morning. Spoke about that he couldn’t get any sleep. Says its the wife that is suffering from it but I am willing to wager a few boars on it that he can’t sleep proper." Gesturing with her right thumb, over her shoulder, behind her, Liana continued. "I prepared what he requested. So if I ain’t back soon, you can find it pretty easily."

To the edge of the forest. Sven sighed as Liana made that remark of hers, before moving to explain about Rodrick and his lack of sleep ”Of course he’d have trouble sleeping.” he mumbled under his breath, knowing the type of person Rodrick was ”I’ll let Lilian know. Or, Rodrick will just wait a bit. Because you aren’t going to the forest alone. I did tell you about the rumours of bandits settling down in there, right?” He asked, actually being slightly unsure if he had mentioned it to her or not.

Though Liana greatly respected and cared for her father, the mere mentioning of him acompanying with her was enough to trigger the almost primitive desire to be rebellious. Though if she considered it through a rational manner, it would be better, safer and even easier. However, she felt it was more an attack on her capability to take care of herself.
"I heard of the bandits. I guess we can go together." Her mumbling and change in expression giving away her displeasement of not being able to go alone.

Going outside, Liana did wait for Sven to be ready. The trip towards the edge and back wouldn’t take too long. A few hours if they were lucky and could find the specific plants and roots that Liana had on her mental list.
"So, about those bandits," she would begin as they started their trek towards the gate of Haerton, "Why do you think they settled in the Wolfswood? Certainly not one of the best places to sit back and relax. Not too many rich folk venturing through that place either."

While he felt bad to see Liana’s expression change after what he said, Sven was also happy she didn’t fight back against it. Right now, he knew that it was better for everyone to not approach the forest on their own. It would only make it easier for the bandits to take on them. After he approached Lilian, waking her up in the process, and informing her that he and Liana were going and telling her about the tonic for Rodrick, he quickly grabbed his gear and went out.

When Liana asked her question, Sven was quick to answer, having thought about it for some time now ”I have a couple of guesses. The first is that at least one of them knows the Wolfswood, which would mean they would have an easier time getting around the forest, setting traps and turning it into an ideal and secure location for them. Even if rich folk don’t go through there, interrupting the income of hunting goods, herbs and other supplies the forest provides is a big enough threat, and they likely know it well.” He spoke in a serious tone, one that made it clear he was anything but pleased with the situation.

”My second guess is regarding their background. We don’t know where those bandits came from. If they are of a militant background, and they deserted, then they could’ve set up the camp in the forest because it is an area that wouldn’t be too known for military groups. That, along with the natural dangers of the forest, can provide for a decent shelter.” Sven finished explaining his guesses, and glanced at Liana ”Do you have any thoughts as to why they would settle in the Wolfswood?” He returned the question, wondering if his daughter thought of something he hadn’t.

Listening to Sven, Liana thought about it. Raising her right hand, she would briefly scratch her right cheek. In all honesty, she had little idea why one would want to settle in the Wolfswood.
"Sure, going to live and set traps in the Wolfswood gives a certain security." Cause few nobles did like to go into a place that was inherently hostile to all people, regardless of their origin or amount of wealth that they possessed.
"But I don’t know. I figure it would be more lucrative to be on the move. Pillaging small hamlets before the local militia or forces of a lordling can come into play." Liana answered in return.

A soft scoff resonated from the teen before she continued. "In the end, I find it highly stupid to make camp or base in the Wolfswood. If I were a brigand, I would certainly pick a nicer place to grow rich."

Sven nodded his head as Liana spoke. She was right, pillaging and staying on the move was more appropriate for brigands. Which only made this feel more like something was off with these bandits. Sven decided to let the silence take over for a few moments before asking his daughter another question ”What kind of herbs are you going to be looking for today?”. He wanted to know, in case he might know of more locations they could look for those, maybe safer ones than the edge of the forest.

"The usual," was the short response, at first. "I want to brew some more expensive tonics. I doubt that I will be able to sell or trade any Milk of the poppy but it might be handy. In case Tom hits his own thumb again during his repairing of doors and what not." Liana added to her answer.
As they were leaving Haerton, Liana did not yet look around. Most of the town’s surrounding was marked by fields that were used by farms that lay in close proximity. Last time that she had ventured into those fields, she had created a heated argument if she was or wasn’t a crop thief.

"You know, now that I think of it," she suddenly spoke up as well throwing a sideways glance at Sven. ”How does it come that you’re friends with the Lord of Fowlsfield but we aren’t moving over there? It would certainly make life easier with a lord as friend and protector."

”Well, there are a couple of reasons for that. First reason is our family. This where our family has lived for longer than your great gramps Allister can remember. While I don’t hold a sentimental feeling to the actual place, I know he does, and so does my sister. And the last thing I want is to live quite a distance from them.” Sven began explaining, glancing back at Liana.

”The second reason is because I’m friends with a lord. Over here, I earned the respect of the people, and needed to work for it. To move there and have an easier life because of my closeness with Duncan would be to go and live in a situation I personally disagree with. No one should just get what they want. To work and understand the value of things is to know how truly appreciate life. That’s why I also know Duncan is a good leader, because he came from the people.” Sven finished his explanation, hoping his daughter understood what he meant. And if she hadn’t, then perhaps that she learned something new.

Liana frowned as she then mumbled a reply. "I guess, I get it. Very noble and family like." Though she wouldn’t mind an easier life if it came with impunity. They were starting to make some distance from Haerton and it started to show. Less agricultural work started to show up as they closed the distance to the edge of the Wolfswood. The task of gathering plants and preserving what they could on the spot wasn’t neither heavy or long work. Repetitive and requiring them to look around was the biggest hardship that they were dealing with the current task.

"This should suffice," Liana reported after they had worked for a few hours. Judging by the position of the sun, it would also be a good time to head back to Haerton. "Perhaps you should accompany me more often. I have great use for somebody to care bags so that I can gather more supplies in one trek."

Helping Liana look for the herbs she wanted certainly felt nice. When they were done, Sven looked at his daughter, and raised an eyebrow at her remark ”So if I accompany you more often, I’ll become your own, personal mule? That seems like a terrible way to treat your old man.” He said with a smile, before moving to ruffle up Liana’s hair a bit ”If you really want, I wouldn’t mind. Today was because of the increased present danger.” He told her, waiting for her to begin leading the way back.

Sven was certainly confident that his daughter could take care of herself and handle most dangers. But she still had more to learn, and more training to undergo, before he would feel confident enough to let her go in these kind of situations on her own.

"Danger of them meeting me, more like," Liana mumbled underneath her breath. With hardly any real effort, Liana attempted to correct her hair. Followed with her slightly raised her chin higher. "Seems a much easier job than to track and hunt down game. Anyhow, some venison would a great reward for a hard day's work."

”Indeed it would be.” Sven agreed, and the two began making their way back towards Haerton. While they did have a disagreement on which way would be better to cook the deer, it certainly felt like it was a good day.
 
The problem with forigners
[ Braewood Keep ]
[ Drevyn Bearon | Brylee Bearon | Daella Snow | Tamsyn Grimm ]

A collaboration between Conman, Kat, Jason & Applo

Summary
Diplomacy flounders and resentments fester.

Brylee and Tamsyn were brought to the large hall that served as the place the Bearon’s met with various dignitaries and such. Drevyn was seated on a large, wooden chair, his hands folded as the pair were escorted in, Tamsyn none too gently, and then made to stand in front of him, a short distance away. The guards stepped back to stand at the entrance. Drevyn’s upset demeanor had vanished in the few hours, and was replaced by a look of apathy as he studied Tamsyn. ”Who are you girl?”

Truth be told, Tamsyn was, or at least recently had been in a fairly good mood. The room she’d been locked in had been warm and comfortable enough for her to take the opportunity to doze a little after a long morning on the road. What else was their to do in such a situation. Fret and worry wouldn’t make the door open. Besides, it wasn’t the first time she had been detained in such a way; although admittedly it normally happened at the end of her stay somewhere, not the start. The only real damper on the situation was that Lord Bearon’s men had bodily dragged her from that room to this. As such, when she spoke, while her face bore a gentle smile, Tamsyn’s voice carried a distinctly haughty, slightly icey tone.

“I am Lady Tamsyn Grimm of the Greyshield, Heir of Grimston, Granddaughter of the Lord of the Arbour and second in command of Grey Fleet,” The last title was only true in the technical sense but it sounded good and that was what mattered. “And I would be obliged, if you would address me as Lady Grimm or Tamsyn, my lord. Not... girl.” Green eyes stared fixedly at Lord Bearon for a few moments until Tamsyn felt her point was sufficiently made to allow her to bow her head out of politeness rather than submission.

Drevyn raised an eyebrow. "The grey harbour and fleet? Sounds like a dismal place, never heard of it, though perhaps that might explain your lack of manners." He motioned to the guards, who left the room. He would not need to them to deal with the likes of this one. "I will call you whatever I please while you are my guest, girl, after all, you are the one who strolled into my keep uninvited, with armed men at your side no less. Perhaps in whatever place you are from it is different, but here you could be killed for less." He leaned on one of his fists as he studied her again. "Explain yourself, and be quick. I am not opposed to flogging a woman."

“What an entertaining diversion that would be,” Tamsyn knew she should stop there, for the sake of diplomacy if not her own hide. The problem was, Lord Bearon seemed to have all the grace and charm of a boil and the best way to deal with a boil was to lance it. “Personally, I prefer a more intimate setting for such activities and perhaps a little wine first, though I suppose it is a matter of personal taste and enjoyment.” Tamsyn let those words hang in the air for a few moments so that they might properly sink in.

“As for my manners, I fear we must be having a clash of cultures. Before we discuss business, Lord Bearon, I would be most grateful if you might enlighten me as to how things are done here in the North so that I might avoid making further missteps. As I see it, I presented myself to your men and requested an audience with you; my guards, while armed as you would expect, were not violent or aggressive. I was then invited inside by a lady,” A hand gestured towards Brylee as the scarcely masked scorn continued to drip from Tamsyn’s lips. “-whose authority your men seemed to recognise; a request which where I come from would be the height discourteousness to refuse. After a delightful few moments in this Lady’s company I was then dragged to a chamber where I was detained without explanation before being quite unnecessarily manhandled to stand before you. I have never been accused of being a smart woman, my lord so please forgive me for being a little uncertain… confused even, as to what trespass I have commited. I would be most thankful if you would explain it for me.”

“We aren’t allowed to invite strangers in without explicit permission from the lord,” Brylee stated and raised her eyes to meet Drevyn’s. Clearly she was displeased with this situation. “The issue here is that the lord cannot keep his guards’ heads on straight and in line to understand how dangerous their decision was to invite Lady Tamsyn and her men past the front gates. This dramatic representation of punishing us is completely unnecessary and a waste of your energy. I did what was expected of me, I did my duty as always and Lady Tamsyn has been nothing more than willing and courteous. I have nothing more to say.”

Standing next to her brother's chair, Daella felt a small grin growing on her lips but forced it back down. How truly amusing it was to see Brylee getting in trouble for a dumb decision. It served her right for how she treated Daella, and the girl would be lying if she denied the feeling of joy at seeing this. However more pressing, was the disrespectful little southerner. Truly her words were quite bold from one hailing from some small island nobody had heard of before. Especially with how she wouldn't watch her tongue around Drevyn, the blatant disrespect and ego required to be so bold made Daella like this woman less and less. Certainly once she went off and told Drevyn to get her some wine before flogging. Daella let out a barely audible sigh of disappointment, looking slightly towards Drevyn to see if he felt the same as she about this person. Brylee herself was enough, Daella had no desire for another to be running around and acting like her elder sibling.

Drevyn’s look was bemused as the Southerner replied without hesitation. Casting a dirty joke out as if it was some sort of game they were playing. This woman was daring to play games in his hold after she had brought armed men into his keep. Still, he could let it stand for now. ”It is a grave offense in these lands to waltz into another lord’s keep with armed men, uninvited by him, as my sister says.” His look shifted to Brylee, his look that of ice now. ”I should expect any self respecting noble, who chooses to come to the North, to know such things.” He let the implication of the words hang. His looked warmed a little as he shifted back to Tamsyn. ”However, I suppose I can let your offense pass, since you seem to be new to the North, Lady Greyshield.” He shifted in his chair to a more comfortable sitting position. ”So again, pray tell Lady Greyshield, what is your purpose in coming to my hold?”

“I am humbled by your graciousness Lord Bearon. I can not profess to know much of your Old Gods, but clearly they gifted you with an unusual wisdom.” The barbed compliment really wouldn’t help matters Tamsyn knew, but Lord Bearon’s barely veiled threats and insults demanded at least some retort. At the same time though, she could almost hear Liola rolling her eyes at this whole situation. Shutting her eyes for a few moments, Tamsyn focused on an image of her sisters face as she let the anger that had been gradually rising inside of her ebb away on her breath.

“My business here, Lord Bearon, is one of armed men, blood and steel. There feeling amongst many lords and ladies of the Reach is that it is time the plague infecting the Riverlands was eradicated. Cut out root and stem. The Ironborn have always been a problem. Now that vast amounts of good land and resources are under their control they are a danger to us all. The Reach has ships to commit to such an undertaking but getting substantial amounts troops to the Riverlands is not an easy undertaking for us.” Tamsyn moved diagonally forwards so that she was a little closer and a little more central to Lord Bearon on his wooden throne. “The reason I am in your hall particularly is that from what I have learned of the lords of the North, you appear to be the right man to spearhead such an undertaking from the northern side. As an aside, my house name is Grimm, not Greyshield.”

”Grimm…. Hmmm…. While you seem to know quite a bit about me, I know nothing of you, Lady Grimm.” He looked quite calculating as he folded his hands in front of him. ”You say that you wish for me to spearhead some sort of movement against the Ironborn, but I must confess, I am unsure what it is you are offering.” He looked over to his half sister at his side. ”Have some refreshments brought out Daella.” He turned back to the Lady of Grimm. ”You say they are a problem, and yet, I have fought the Ironborn scum personally, beaten them in battle, without the help of Southerners. Just why should we turn to you now? What is it you offer me?”

“Honor. Glory. Repute. It is one thing to defeat a foe in battle; my family has been fighting Ironborn for generations and as you say, you have never heard of us. It is quite another thing however, to be the man who creates alliances and leads the effort to destroy an enemy entirely; those are the men history remembers and kings make their most trusted advisors and generals. And let me be clear Lord Bearon, utter destruction of the Ironborn is what I propose. They need to be driven into the sea and sent to meet their abomination of a god. By the time we are finished, those that remain on their squalid little islands should be too scared to even look towards the mainland for a hundred years.” Aware of a growing pain in her hands, Tamsyn glanced down to see that her knuckles had turned white. Unclenching her fists, she messaged her hands for a few moments before continuing.

“Of course, honor, glory and repute are such… ethereal things. Hard to gain and perhaps even harder to hold. I can quite imagine they would not be enough alone to tempt you to involve yourself with what I am proposing. If we were to talk about a more earthly incentive, well I am sure that we could come to a profitable trading agreement. You have a great deal of timber under your control; perhaps even some ironwood? I’m sure you can imagine the value of such a resource to my house and the other shield houses. In return, well the Reach is a fertile land, even in winter, and House Bearon could be beneficiaries of this. I would assume that in the middle of a harsh winter, a man who can access plentiful amounts of grain becomes quite powerful without spilling a drop of blood.” Pausing briefly, Tamsyn tried to read her audience’s face to see if she was hitting the mark. “I speak in generalities. If you have ideas or ambitions of your own about how I might be of service to you, well, I would be open to discussing them to see what arrangements we could come to. Likewise, if you have questions about myself then please do ask them.” Twisting awkwardly, Tamsyn turned so she could see Brylee. “That goes for you as well, Lady Brylee.”

”Grain for wood?” He was quiet for a moment as his eyes narrowed, his face no more readable then it had been a moment ago. ”You came all this way to set up some trade?” He waved the offer off. ”I have no interest in trading some Southerner my resources, and I have no need of your grain.” He leaned on his hand. ”I need spears and swords, and men to carry them, not food. I can grow food.” His tone was harsh. ”Surely you did not come all this way to offer me that which I already have?”

“No, I did not.” In the theatre of her mind, Tamsyn gave Lord Bearon an almighty slap. How was he misunderstanding what she was saying so spectacularly. “They were just suggestion of how House Bearon might be enriched by such a relationship. What I have come to offer you is a unique opportunity to elevate your house to a position where the likes of House Langdale will no longer make claims on your lands, but rather bend the knee as your bannermen. It is no secret that your house in under assault. Oh the Starks will step in when too much blood has been spilt, but they will think of you and your house poorly for it.”

“Wouldn’t you rather they see you as the shrewd man who on his own volition, found allies to destroy a threat and perhaps even claim new territory in their name. A man whose counsel is worth listening too. Worth respecting. I understand the need to look to the problems directly in front of you, and to those ends and as a matter of good faith, it may be possible to lend you some of the strength of arms of my house to help with them. Would it not be better though for your house to be elevated to the point where you and your descendants won’t have to worry about such concerns?” Closing her eyes, Tamsyn reached up and pinched the bridge of her nose. The audience had not gone how she had wanted. She had been hoping for rather more ambition from a lord a few years younger than herself. Gods, did she want a drinks. Several drinks in fact. Where in the seven hells was that servant girl with the refreshments?

His nose wrinkled in disgust at the veiled comment on his house, and his honor. ”You certainly presume to know quite a bit about my house for one who is foreign to my lands.” He stood from his seat. ”You presume also, to come to my house and insult me, however indirectly. I have no need to ally myself with you, the likes of the Langdale my house can deal with on their own, without the need of the company of your trade.” He would whistle a long piercing note. Two guards would enter into the room from the large doors into it, bearing mail shirts and adorned by swords. ”Escort the lady back to her quarters until mealtime, this audience is over. Perhaps you may convince me another day, Lady Grimm.” There would be no need for refreshments at this point, but some talk between himself and his family was warranted, so he would not call back Daella, but rather wait for her to return.

“Very well. Thank you for the audience,” Tamsyn bobbed into a shallow curtsy before turning to face the advancing guards, smiling momentarily at Brylee as she did so. “I look forward to seeing you later on my dear.” With that, Tamsyn turned and started back towards where she had been brought into the room, forcing the two guards to turn around before they had been ready to do so. A hand that reached out to grasp her arm was gently slapped away. She had endured quite enough of that nonsense for today.

“Can I leave now? You’ve made your point and I’m done here,” Brylee spoke up once Tamsyn left the room.

Drevyn looked pointedly at his sister for a moment, as if trying to decide what to do with the woman. The moment dragged on for a bit longer, before he waved his hand off. ”Go see to it that the kitchens bring out a meal Brylee.” The day’s festivities had worn on his nerves. Why for the love of the gods had that foreigner decided to visit his lands if she had nothing to bring but insults and false promises.

Brylee rolled her eyes and huffed before leaving for the kitchen, as asked. She didn’t understand Drevyn, she didn’t understand why he chose Daella over her, why she was being insulted and put down when she was his trueborn sister. The thought made her want to scream and cry, however, she kept it inside for her past experiences had only taught her how to continue being inside her own shell. She could never express to Drevyn how she truly felt, only do what he commanded.

 
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[ Bredon Ashwood | Fowlsfield ]

With a grumble and a sharp exhale, Bredon despised the drowsiness that came with rising in the morning; especially when it came a rather loud banging at his door than it was when his own natural awakening. To that extent, the northerner himself far preferred to be active in the evening and in the early portion of the night as a result of his duties in armies some years back. But, for now, he simply dressed in a long-sleeved grey tunic before putting on a pair of brown trousers and darker brown boots with a layer of thick socks. Being simply dressed, the younger of the two Ashwoods groggily stumbled past through the doorframe of his bedchambers after he managed to open the thick, sturdy door that had filled it after rushing through his morning routine. The master bedroom was the largest of the three that occupied the loft-style second floor, with the other two at the same position at the other end of the floor, each half the size of the master bedroom. As for now, each of these two bedrooms was unoccupied save for a small bed, an empty dresser, and a bedside table each that would serve any guests well. A small sitting area nestled itself between the two sets of rooms with the stairwell to the far end of the sitting area when viewed from the sworn sword's chambers. He rubbed his eyes as he ambled towards the stairwell that led down into the first floor, which was sectioned off into three separate rooms.

The first and largest room was both the entryway and the main sitting room, at the center of which was a moderately sized fire pit that in lieu of a hearth that served to warm the entire home during the long Westerosi winters, near which on the right wall was a large cabinet that contained the various implements, utensils, and dishware that would be used to cook using the pit when it was bright and alive. The chamber itself was warm and welcoming, a large sitting area greeting whomsoever came through his door, with the staircase to the second floor against the left wall, with the trapdoor to the cellar rested located at the back of the stairwell. Behind the pit rested a small square table with chairs on three sides, with two short benches flanking the other sides of the fire pit (the second floor was built like a lift to capitalize on this means of heating). Behind this setup was a long table with long benches for dining, behind which was the closed doorway that led to the second chamber of the floor- the pantry. The remaining two doors were on the wall to the left of the table, with the intermediary leading to the final room. Intended to be a storage room to compliment the pantry and cellar, Bredon had personally installed bookshelves on the back wall and the side walls of the room, while putting a decent chair and desk beneath the room's window. It was his favorite room of the house and remarked of it as his own small Citadel and would loan out his books on occasion. The shelves themselves were mostly full, but did not contain only books; they also contained boxes of maps and copies of manifests and reports that were brought to him for his own record-keeping, in addition to some objects for study and small tools needed for working with his stored possessions. Otherwise, the walls were lined with various shelves and tables at many different points, with the occasional sconce present to provide lighting at night to supplement the warm glow of the fire pit.

From the exterior, one could see that the house, like many others in the village, was wider than it was long regardless of its slightly larger size. The home had a shingles gabled roof with dark wood at the exterior, with the occasional window standing against the wood as a set of small stone shelves in the hillside served as a walkway to the home's only point of ingress while the last shelf was part of the stone that served as foundation and flooring. It was situated a short ways away from his brother's own property, resting on the same hill as the other buildings although it was the westmost of them, and the closest to the fields that laid within Fowlsfield's walls. Bredon always admired the view, giving him something a bit more to enjoy whenever he awoke in the morning.

As he approached the door, Bredon called out, somewhat irritated as he stood atop the large rug that covered the stone of the entryway, "Stop that infernal knocking! I'm coming, I'm coming! You'd think that the sky itself would be boiling and torn asunder with all this blasted knocking so early in the morning..." After a quick moment, the Ashwood reached for the wrought iron handle and opened the mighty, stiff wooden door. A short blast of the morning breeze dashed through the now-open doorway, sending a familiar chill up the man's spine as he rubbed his eyes once more before turning to gaze at the figure that greeted him; a young man still in his late boyhood (not yet of the age to be apprenticed), somewhat stout, with thick black hair that was shorn short and was dressed in relatively new clothes that had like been given to him the last year of the passing winter. Bredon recognized the boy from the training sessions in the town as well as from the manor- he served as a messenger for the various people in the town for a small fee, having recently put more of his effort to his brother's employ as his light brown eyes gazed up into those of the sworn sword..

"Ah, little Jerrod? It's you, then, good morning." Bredon's tone immediately softened after he saw the child's face, allowing a small, tired smile to draw across his face in order to deal with the child.

"Good morning, Master Bredon. Are you well?"

"Ah, thank you, I'm well. Let me guess- I'm needed next door for some reason or another?"

"Yes he does, Master Bredon." The boy's voice remained airy and light, despite the boy's attempts to make himself sound strong and official as he delivered a message from the small-lord of their village. "He requests your presence in his hall immediately."

Bredon scoffed as the smile became slightly more genuine. "Did he say it that way?"

The little boy shook his head sheepishly for a moment. "No, ser."

The older of the two shrugged, smiling as he leaned over to ruffle the boy's hair before speaking up. "Let him know I'll be there shortly, lad. Keep doing a good job for him around the manor, will you? Run along now."

A wide smile of satisfaction came across the boy's face as he was offered the small bit of praise, the two sharing their good-byes before Bredon closed the door and returned upstairs in order to finish getting dressed for what lay ahead. As he was not one to be undefended, the Northerner immediately reached for his blackened long gambeson that rested on a small table in one of the back corners of his bedchambers, pulling at the sleeves and the various strands in order to ensure everything was nice and tight. His baldric came next, attached to which was his longsword, resting in its black scabbard. Pulling out the sword partway, the Ashwood inspected the edges and slid it back into place before reaching for his long dagger and seax, examining their blades as he pulled them from their scabbards in order to likewise examine them before attaching them to the right of his baldric, opposite his sword. All that remained was his cloak after he quickly washed his face in the basin atop the aforementioned table in order to better wake himself up. The hooded, dark viridian cloak was connected by a simple, unimpressive clasp while reaching his mid-calf. There were a few shorter ones he owned as well, but as the chill continued to fade the one he now wore would do well.

Making his way out the door and locking it with his key after he had grabbed his belt-pouch and wallet, Bredon drew his hood and quickly made for the hall of the manor, knowing he would likely be the last one to arrive if his niece had already been called and awoken. Seeing this was the case, Bredon lowered his hood and yawned into his hand as he approached his brother and niece, speaking as he rubbed his eyes for a brief moment in order to ensure he didn't fall asleep standing up.

"Well good morning to you Duncan, and a good morning to you, too, little Pup. Given that our family seems to love almost nothing as much as a good sleep that lasts decently past the dawn, I can only assume that something's happened, or that is something is going to happen soon. Did the new little bear call on his hounds to do some dirty work?"



Interactions: @Gerontis @Oetje | Mentions: @conman2163
 
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[ Haerton - It is beginning. ]
[ A meeting between Sven 'Boarsbane' and Eyme, Lady of Haerton. ]



The hall was occupied by all kinds of people. Usually when a meeting was hosted, word traveled fast among the folk of Haerton. Though it was quite normal that not everybody attended the meeting. Not because of a lack of interest but merely because not everybody could free time to attend to come. Most that did come were usually those that reside inside the safety of the settlement’s fortifications, able to free up some hours to attend.
Servants went around to provide some water to the men that had came - as it was more usual for men to attend than women. Soft pieces of bread were broken off and offered as well with some salt, both a symbolic gesture that they were acknowledge guests of the Lady of Haerton. But also a subtle attempt to make them feel a bit more content as trouble was starting to brew with the threat of the brigands in the nearby woods.

But while the main hall started to fill up with more folk from the settlement, Eyme started to work on some other plans. She trusted her servants to attend to the basic needs of her guests and the guards to keep the peace - cause even a grumbling crowd can be unpredictable, quickly turning into an angry mob that is ready to lynch everybody that they consider guilty.
After all, a servant had been dispatched to retrieve one of the most experienced hunters in the settlement. Hopefully, somebody that could help with the biggest problem that was stalking the people of Haerton these days.

After spending the majority of the day with Liana, Sven was approached by a servant from Lady Haerton. Without letting another moment pass, he followed the servant towards the manor. As they came close, Sven noticed that they weren’t going into the manor through the main entrance, but instead through a side, more subtle entrance to the manor. While he became more curious and wary, he didn’t let either of the feelings show. The servant then opened a door to a room, which had a rather crude appearing map on a table, and next to it stood Eyme.

Stepping inside, the servant closed the door behind Sven. Without waiting, the hunter bowed towards Eyme ”Lady Haerton.” He said, before rising from the bow ”What can this hunter do for you today?” Sven asked, approaching the table with the map, looking over it briefly before moving to look at Eyme again.

Hearing the door open, Eyme turned around to witness that Sven entered the room. She responded with the bow with a mere nod of her own, as despite them being alone there were certain things that couldn’t be ignored. She gestured Sven to join her at the table as she returned to her previous pose, looking at the crude map of the area. Several landmarks were placed on it but those were enough for those who were well known with the Wolfswood.

“I need somebody who has extensive knowledge of the Wolfswood to scan and scout around. I want to send more folks to be aware of what is going on.” Eyme began on a tone that made it clear she meant business. Placing a finger on the southern landmark that was closest to Haerton, Eyme continued. “Right now, we haven’t spotted any bandits or brigands around these parts. But out of precaution, I have decided it is best to not let folk turn to the Wolfswood. Which will work to keep most out of harm’s way but soon enough, people will grow unruly. Bellies have to be filled and I fear that we won’t function altogether without the resources from the Wolfswood.”
Turning to Sven with a sideways glance, the woman continued. “Do you think you’ll be able to go past this landmark? Perhaps lead a small group of hunters and woodsmen to see how many brigands or groups are lingering around. I need a headcount but if you can provide me with additional information, that would be great too.”

Listening to Eyme, Sven moved to followed her finger as it moved around the map. The area she mentioned there were no sightings of bandits or brigands was the same as where he and Liana were at earlier. And he knew well that people will indeed grow unruly if things don’t change soon. His own daughter already tried going on her own, and he didn’t know how many times he could keep escorting her without her growing frustrated over it. He knew well Liana deserved some independence.

Keeping his eyes on the map, Sven nodded ”I’d be able to lead a small group into the forest and perform a headcount. Though, for safety, I don’t think I’ll go with a group bigger than three people, including myself. Minimizes the chances of being spotted, while also allowing us to form a triangle of cover. I’m thinking the best people to take with me will be Travis and Ellis. I know Ellis is still relatively young, but he has one of the keenest sights I’ve ever come across, and in this situation, we need it.” He said. He wished he had other nominations, but those two were probably the best ones for the job at hand. And in this case, he felt like they needed the best.

Eyme listened to the reply of Sven. She would just slowly nodded, deciding to trust on Sven’s knowledge and decision. ”Very well. You best prepare to head out as soon as possible. If you require any gear, I got some. My servants will be informed that you can make requests, so that is arranged.” Eyme replied on her turn. ”After today’s meeting, I will be heading towards Braewood Keep. The young lord has called for me but I am not yet entirely sure what he has in mind. If anything,” Eyme fully placed her gaze on Sven.

”If those brutes do attempt to move closer to Haerton, I hope I can count on you to alert the guards. I highly doubt that the brigands will move close to the perimeter but it is best to be prepared than to be caught by surprise.” She said, deciding to wait for his response.

”Of course. Last thing I’d want is for those brigands to hit Haerton. What kind of a father would I be if I let those kind of people threaten the home of my family? of my child?” Sven was quick to respond, not a glimmer of hesitation in his eyes, as he turned to look at Eyme ”I will make sure me and the other two are prepared and head out under the cover of night. Hopefully by daytime tomorrow, I will already have a report ready for you, for when you return.” He also said.

“Good. I am looking forward to what you can find about them. The more information, the easier we can drive them away from Haerton.” Eyme said, placing her hands on her hips. Now turned towards Sven, the woman nodded once more. “I will need to attend to the gathering. I will see you once both the gathering is done and I have returned from Braewood.”