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Gerontis

"Teddy Bears never forget."
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A lot. Can't really pick a few out as it depends on the lore etc. etc. etc.
Westeros,
The North, the lands of the Red King, whose name is Bolton.

The year is 89 BC.
Winter is approaching.

The news is spreading fast. Many view the latest news with some distrust and some even don't regard it as true or important. But apparently, the Starks have made more progress on unifying the North underneath their banner. With the noble House of Reed bending the knee and swearing fealty, it means that the largest political entity in the North is that of the realm of the King of Winter. Disturbed by this new development, instructions are sent from the Dreadfort, the seat of the Red King. Messengers as ravens move to the various vassal houses, stating that they have to prepare for an impending conflict. Even while a truce is still in power after the last conflict with the Starks, the Red King seems to be anything but comfortable with the fragile status quo shifting into the favour of the Starks.

And while some people don't seem to worry or desire to bother with the growing frustration and panic of the Boltons, there are other problems that can not be ignored. Next, to the cold breezes that are whispering the freezing cold of winter, some people have to face the consequences of bad decisions of previous leaders and fathers.



The Sins of a Father.
House Marric and their vassals.

The days and rule of Lord Elrin 'the Odd' are over. While the late Lord Elrin had some respect, many had questions about how he ruled over his subjects and vassals. Not two months ago the late Lord would pass away in his sleep, a most peaceful end for a man that seemed to be troubled with all kinds of troubles and bickering with many people. As the maester of Frosthold would announce that Elrin had passed away and that the new lord of House Marric would be Anselm, the problems started to surface.

As a festering wound that would become filled with puss, troubled messages would make their way towards Frosthold. Barely had Elrin's corpse grown cold or two vassal houses made it clear that they weren't coming to the funeral of the late Lord Marric. The House Lockguard, who resides in Oldbury, stated that they were still expecting the loaned funds they gave to the late Lord Elrin 'the Odd'. According to their letter, they were expecting a large sum of, at least, thirty golden dragons. As long as they wouldn't receive this with the arranged percentage rent, they would halt any of their contributing and tax towards House Marric as loyal vassal. Another letter from House Gardway, who reigns over various small villages north of Frosthold, stated that they were still expecting the resources that were promised to them. According to their letter, Lord Elrin 'the Odd' had promised that he would purchase and deliver a supply of stone in order for the improvement of House Gardway's manor. Something that had been promised after Lord Elrin had taken double the amount of tax and harvest for two full seasons.

Problems wouldn't end there. It is quite known to everybody in Frosthold of the bad blood that seemed to have started between the House of Hornwood and Marric. While a history of friendship had existed, this seemed to have come to a halt with Lord Elrin's reign. Much about it isn't known in Frosthold on what had transpired between the Lord of Frosthold and the Lord of Hornwood. Some speculate it is because Lord Elrin had called Lord Harald a fool and that he would rather arrange marriages with the dirtiest peasants than to see their houses being binded. Others claim that the blame lies with Lord Harald who insulted Lord Elrin's lack of grip on his vassals, which caused a heated argument between the two lords.

Word is now spreading towards Frosthold about various small patrols of Hornwood troops, executing various odd patrols. Some more veteran and experienced people in the art of war state that these aren't patrols but scouting operations, to see how well House Marric is doing. But these are often quickly argued by other courtiers, stating that the Red King wouldn't allow his own vassals to rip each other apart.

The time has come to face the sins that had been silent but with the father and late Lord Marric passing, they have become louder than the bells of the sept ringing one last time for a new dawn.



The Gentle Disease.
House Trevelyan and their vassals.

Kind and gentle he was. The late Lord of House Trevelyan, whose name was Carron. The man was known to be kindest of heart and a most generous soul. His subjects loved him for his just and kind rule. Little fear came from the small folk whenever they saw a retinue of House Trevelyan passing by. Cheering people would line up whenever the late Lord Carron entered a village that was within House Trevelyan's border. Little bad things were said about the late Lord Carron as he was loved by many. Until the last few years.

Kind as late Lord Carrong Trevelyan was, he proved to be indecisive. He didn't have the authority to make his own vassals pay tax or contribute to see House Trevelyan grow stronger. Repercussions were mild and did nothing to keep the vassals of House Trevelyan in line. It even started to lead to some problems as a group of brigands kept repeatedly harassing a few farmsteads. With most of his vassals proven to be self-focused, the late Lord Carron made the sole decision to hire a sellsword company, named the Blood Brothers, in order to protect his subjects. Only this would prove to be a temporary solution as there was the problem that the contract with the Blood Brothers strained the coffers of House Trevelyan. With already suffering the disobedience of some vassals, it eventually would escalate.

The Blood Brothers would take over the troubled farmsteads south of Tornburg for themselves. Literally holding many of the people hostage and making them work for them, refusing to allow even a child to slip away alive. To make the matter worse, a few days later a few riders of the Blood Brothers would approach the perimeter of Tornburg. There they would throw a small sack with small fingers cut off as the message that more children would start to lose a pinky if the debt wouldn't be paid.

So did the gentle and kind rule of the late Lord Trevelyan pass into fear and dread. Where his name was praised and his name almost being worshipped, the smallfolk under House Trevelyan are afraid to venture out of their homes. Those nobles who had sworn fealty would just laugh and continue their own affairs as the late and gentle Lord Trevelyan would tremble and eventually die a slow but agonizing death, a mere two days ago. The maester of Tornburg would declare that the stress of the recent developments had been too heavy on the old lord's heart, causing him to become too exhausted to continue living on. Meaning that the oldest daughter of the late Lord Carron would succeed her father. A House with debts to a sellsword company as various hired retainers in Tornburg and disobedient vassals.

It will be a matter of time and decisions to see if House Trevelyan will sink into the annals of history, doomed by the kind soul of the late Lord Carron or if they would rise up above their problems.
 
[fieldbox=The Right Course of Action, royalblue]
[ Amber Trevelyan ]
[ Lady of House Trevelyan ]

- In Tornburg, in the family's crypt -

Standing in the dimly lighted hall, Amber's eyes were locked on the two statues in front of her. The two statues, resembling her mother and father, were holding a hand together. Binding the two soon when her father's remain would be brought down into the crypt and buried next to the love of his life. Something that should be a sweet and peaceful end for a kind man as her father. But Amber hadn't ventured to the family crypts in order to find some peace and solitude. It was just that she had no energy left in her to keep shouting and no tears to flow over her cheeks. The anger and frustration were still present. But doubt and sorrow were present as well, creating a confusing mix that troubled the lady. Somewhere she blamed herself for all the misfortune that rapidly had grown and still haunted them after her father's passing.
Taking a shallow breath, Amber wanted to speak up. Wanting to repeat the question on what she should do. What was the best course of action? How could she tackle all these problems at the same time? What should she do to prevent that the name Trevelyan would be a small note in the annals of history?
Slowly Amber lowered her head. Her shoulders trembled slightly as she was well aware that she had to do something. To confront these problems and not repeat the same mistakes as her father. But she couldn't help but miss the soft and friendly tone of her father's voice. How he always sounded so calm and collective. Always able to find the good in others. How cruel could the gods be to then see the old man die of his own kindness towards others?

Regulating her breath as well closing her eyes for a few seconds, Amber collected herself. Without any goodbye or parting word, she would leave the place. Taking the candle that was the source of the bit of light with her, the shadows slowly but surely swallowed the crypt once more into shadows and darkness. Leaving the crypt Amber ignored the fact that her eyes were slightly irritated. She figured that people were expecting her to be upset. And even if they didn't, she couldn't care less at the given moment.
Making her way through the keep Amber went towards her own chamber. The guards allowed her without any word to pass while seemingly to be aware that their lady wished to be undisturbed by anybody.

Once in the tranquil confines of her chambers, Amber started to pace back and forth. It was clear that she had to deal with the problems and not delay any action. But the question of before stalked her mind without allowing her any sense of reprieve.

What is the right action?

The thought kept spinning around in the head of Amber as she felt with every passing second the urge to just throw something against the walls. Knowing very well that wasting her energy and breath on such useless outlets wouldn't relieve her of her problems, Amber would sit down on her bed. Leaning forward, she buried her head into the palms of her hands. Trying to calm herself down, Amber would remain silent. Just focusing on her own breathing as she would place the problems in a chronological order.
The first matter that she should attend to would be the Blood Brothers company. Those despicable lot should be driven out as soon as possible. Preferably with most, if not all, of them losing their head. But she doubted that it would be that easy to drive away the mercenary company with just sheer violence. Those bastards still held various farmsteads as hostages. until the debt would be paid. If a force would be sent to drive them away, it could lead to innocents dying. Something that Amber wanted to avoid. The best way to get rid of those vermin was to just pay the debt. Only, of course, that they had no sufficient funds to pay the demand of the mercenary company. And it wasn't that time was a luxury that could be afforded either.

Rising up from her bed, Amber bite her lower lip hard as she started to pace again. Slowly a plan would start to hatch together in the mind of Amber. Leaving her chambers she would quickly instruct various of the nearby guards to request the presence of various people to meet her in council room to discuss the course of action of the coming days. Arriving in the Councillor's Room, where an oaken table was present in the middle of the room as various shelves were standing against the wall, filled with books and maps. Not the kind of information regarding history but ledgers and maps of the land that belonged House Trevelyan as various surrounding areas. For a moment, Amber wished she had changed into something more fitting. Wearing a simple dress without any ornament she realised how plain she probably was appearing for a ruling Lady of a House.
The soft blue eyes settled Amber's gaze on the slightly ornated chair at the head of the table. It was the seat where her father probably sat during meetings with his council. Slowly approaching it, Amber slowly and in an affectionate fashion ran a hand across the finish of the chair. Somehow she wanted to take the seat, hoping that a brief spark of inspiration or hope would surge through her. That she perhaps could find confidence in knowing that she was following her father's footsteps.

And yet, it seemed wrong.

Amber's eyes would half close as she pulled her hand back, balling into a fist. Turning towards the door, she would fold her hands in front of her stomach while waiting with her head raised to see who would first enter the room.

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[fieldbox=Anselm Marric - Frosthold - A Repayment of Debts, blue, solid, 8, book antiqua]
The new Lord of House Marric was awake long before the first bell tolled before dawnbreak, standing before a training dummy with his longsword in his hands as he performed morning exercise to gnaw away at the stress of his new title.

Since the first signs of his father's oncoming death, the former Whiteblade, his siblings, and the closest advisors of the family began to gather away from the ears of the dying lord to begin planning the ways by which they might go and bring about some semblance of peace to the house and their vassals.

First, after his father's death, Anselm sent by courier thirty-five gold dragons to his vassal, the lord of House Lockguard- the amount owed plus an interest as an apology. Before this, Anselm had kept roughly two hundred gold dragons in a small chest in his room- his collection of his salaries as a captain of the Whiteblades and enough to pay his own ransom should he ever be taken hostage during his time as advisor and heir to his late father. He also sent twenty gold dragons in quarried stone to House Gardway, mined from his personal holdings in a mining village to the west of Frosthold. As much as he was told to dip from what was left of the house's treasury from his late father's reckless spending, Anselm found much more worth in his sending them gold he earned of his own accord as a soldier as opposed to returning gold that came from taxes being overly-levied by his father. Likewise, many of the things that his father in his insane sprees bought were to be sold as to return portions of them and make investments otherwise.

But, perhaps utmost notable, was Anselm's call to all his vassals to attend a banquet in his house wherein they were to swear fealty and bend the knee to the new Lord Marric, a respected custom among Westerosi noble families, just as it was his duty attend the installation of a lord to one of his vassal houses. Among those he invited to Frosthold, he invited the noble families of House Trevelyan and House Hornwood in addition to the family of the Red King (though the last of these was little more than a formality since the Red King rarely attended such himself to Anselm's knowledge). House Marric and House Trevelyan had little interactions with one another, only being fellow vassals of House Bolton and occassional trade partners- but there was more than enough mutual respect between the two that each had gone to functions of the other. In such letter, having learned by raven that Lord Trevelyan had died, Anselm sent his condolences to the new Lady Trevelyan and offered what consolations he could- he was always rather stoic when it came to death, having hardened his heart to it amidst a lake of blood and tears. Well, that and he was never the most talented person when it came to being emotional.

But, as the orange sun rose over the horizon, Anselm began to shield his eyes before walking over to the shower stalls in the training yard and taking a bucket of water with him to clean off before walking back inside to his chambers, wherein he redressed. He would emerge wearing brown pants and boots, a tan, longsleeved shirt, and a leather brigadine. Atop of his, he wore his sword-belt, attatched to which was a small pouch, a small wallet, his longsword, and his proving dagger at the small of his back. He considered taking his black cloak, but the temperature had not dropped enough for him to need it yet.

He soon walked into the Great Hall, wherein there were small feasting tables moved in place and many relics of House Marric on display, the greatest of which rested on the mantle of the fireplace near the simple oaken throne.

The Shard of Redblade.

Broken for two hundred years yet still sharp, it broke in the battle wherein the house's revered ancestor, Dorick Marric, died at the hand of the Red King after slaughtering as many as forty of House Bolton's soldiers with the shard before he was decapitated. So great was this relic to the people that many believed House Marric would take its rightful place when the blade was reforged.

Anselm approached it with great reverence, removing the blade from its stand within the glass case as he held it with both hands. He swung the blade as if it were still full, and some motions as if it were a dagger or shortsword. But, hearing the footsteps of another enter Frosthold's great hall, the tips of his ears went red as he felt slightly embarrassed, returning the broken sword to its case before turning around and clearing his throught, his ice-blue eyes meeting those of his guest as his noble baritone echoes the halls as he put on a small, polite smile.

"Good morning to you- I should hope you slept well, despite the tolling of the bell so early in the morning."
[/fieldbox]
 
[fieldbox=Lainah Faerson, orange]
- At Frosthold. -

The cold of the morning was not easy to drive away, even with attempting to wear a woollen shirt. Having risen early as she would soon to be expected for her duties, Lainah would inspect the dress she would wear today. It was somewhat more garnished with motives, laid in a lighter scheme of blue in the dark green dress. Instead, however, scurrying to the room of the oldest sisters of the Lord of House Marric, Lainah would hold a small trinket in the palms of her hand. It was a small silver bracelet where the sigil of House Faerson was inscribed in. The design was so simple and yet it meant a lot for Lainah. It briefly made her wonder about if she would be able to spend some time with Rydan or Sanah. A small and yet sad smile started to dawn on Lainah's lips. She wondered if Sanah would even accompany Rydan to see one of their own bend the knee. There was something amusing yet sad to it.

Throwing a look at the door, she wondered how much time she still had before she had to venture towards the chamber of one of the Lady Marrics. Sliding the bracelet on her right wrist, Lainah would release a soft sigh. Organising some of her personal possessions as she softly sang a song.

"Lips, ripe as the berries in June
Red the rose, red the rose
Skin, pale as the light of the moon
Gently as she goes."

Once she was done, Lainah checked if she was all proper to head out. Humming the song that was stuck in her head, Lainah folded her hands in front of her as she lightly lowered her head. With a light yet fast pace she would make way towards where she would start her duties. Briefly, she wondered what she should tell Rydan or Sanah when they would arrive. There was the matter that she would have to be excused by Lady Marric, but she figured that either Rydan or Sanah wouldn't just pass her by. Arriving at the chambers of Meera Marric, Lainah would take a light breath in through her nose as she would calmly and slowly blow the breath out.

[/fieldbox]
 
[fieldbox=The Worst Battle, #ff99cc]
Zahara & Jorvan
Tornburg Keep
mentions

@AceSorcerer @Oetje @Nim @Sketching101 @-QT-
collab between @espoir and @Gerontis


'I believe in you.'

Words that watered her soul seemed to be stuck on repeat. Two days ago, her father passed away and left a heavy burden on the the Trevelyan household. Nothing seemed quite right. Her father's words didn't seem to have a hold on her anymore. All she knew was that he was dead. Where would they begin? Where would they end? Surely it was more of a heavy burden for Amber than it was for her, and yet, even with their Father's passing, Amber seemed interested in getting rid of The Blood Brothers right away and Zahara didn't have the energy to question her method of action.

The skies were dreary, yet fitting for the start of a boring and unproductive day. Zahara sat upon her copper mare, Lily, as she trotted at a leisurely gait among the surrounding hills of Tornburg. Anselm— the newfound lord of House Marric— had sent his condolences, and Zahara had remained indifferent to his sordid empathy. If the Trevelyan household attended the banquet, perhaps they could gain some kind of converage to help pay off the debts. An alliance through marriage could be practical, but it'd be expensive and not the kind of message Amber would want to send to her subjects.

The best course of action was to let things take their course for a few days. Amber was an intelligent woman; she'd think of something and if that meant Zahara had to delegate political advances on her own time, she would do so.


Jorvan scratched the back of his head. He wasn't entirely sure what to expect today. There was some awareness raised about a few matters that were going on but in all honesty? He couldn't really put himself to care. The previous lord of House Trevelyan was a good man but it was a bit of a trouble that he and Arthur haven't been paid for three months. The fact that his and Arthur's services would be put on a halt now due to the entire household being in mourning was poorly timed.

When Jorvan was outside, he couldn't see much of interest. The castle town was not really much different, from just a glance. Jorvan cleared his throat and spit on the ground. He wondered where Arthur was; perhaps they should discuss whether or not they should continue their service to House Trevelyan or just move on to a new contract. He hooked his right thumb behind his weapon belt and made his way to the keep. There was some more activity going on or was it because he imagined it to be because of the recent developments?

With little effort he would be entering the large complex. Nodding and inclining his head to various people, more out of respect towards with the passing of the late lord, Jorvan would decide to head into one of the hallways. There wasn't much of a plan going on but he eventually he would stop and decide to wait. He looked around, the hallway void of the keep's denizens. Jorvan scratched his lazy beard and briefly considered the option to perhaps go to the smithy but seeing he was already in the keep, it wouldn't hurt to wait a bit longer for a familiar face to appear.

The ride wasn't nearly as satisfying as Zahara hoped it'd be. She'd returned home promptly to go see her eldest sister. The castle was quiet, almost eerie with the lack of conversation and calm, melodic tunes throughout the halls. "Hello, ser." She gave the stranger a smile; it was somewhat comforting to see a familiar face, albeit intimdating in nature. "How are you feeling? You appear distressed. I know the passing of my father hasn't been easy."

Jorvan threw a quick look into the direction of the source of footsteps. Spotting a young woman, he would be quick in remembering who she was. He made a small and courteous bow towards the woman, though he was slightly taken by surprise when she inquired about how he was feeling. "I am okay," he said, a smile dawning on his lips - even though it was a bit wry and forced. "I am sorry about your father. You and your family have my condolences." As he said that, a brief thought passed through his mind.

And my bloody money.

He placed his hands behind his back and briefly wondered if he should ask her if she was aware of some plans.

""Thank you," Zahara spoke, her tone rushed as she reached out and grabbed his arm. She pulled him close and offered another smile as she began to tug him towards the meeting room."There's a meeting we must attend. I hear Amber has a job for you."

When the woman grabbed his arm and pulled him close, it wasn't that Jorvan was shy or insecure. The reason why there wasn't a witty remark leaving his lips was because he rather wouldn't say anything that could affect his pay. The wry smile remained on Jorvan's lips as he would walk with her. "There is? I wasn't informed but I was hoping to speak to your sister. Regarding the contract that I had made with your father," he stated in a friendly fashion. The fact that there was a job awaiting for him was great but he wouldn't accept another job and not being paid for it.

"Oh, I'm sure she'll fix that soon enough," Zahara stated in a pointed tone. "For now, however, Amber is intent on finding a solution to our main problem."

"I am sure she will try," was the polite reply of Jorvan. He wondered, however, if their main problem was also his problem. But if he knew anything from previous contracts, there was something as that the hiring party didn't desire to hear some sarcastic reply. "I hope things will calm down for you and yours, m'lady."

"I don't wish to intrude, lady Trevelyan, but do you have any idea on what solutions might be taken against the rising problems?"

Jorvan's eyes narrowed slightly for a brief moment. Zahara ran her teeth over her bottom lip. "Well, I'm not exactly well-versed in handling these sorts of confrontations, but I thought about how I could help. We were recently invited to the banquet at House Marric and I thought if I could go there, we might be able to form some kind of alliance with them. Perhaps some kind of marriage could happen or we could do something for one another. Amber doesn't think we should though but I feel we should at least try."

Briefly Jorvan's eyes narrowed slightly. He wasn't entirely certain what he should think of her answer. There was some wary feeling surfacing as he wasn't entirely confident if 'we' included him. He wasn't interested in some other noble family or being invited to a banquet. If anything, he rather would head to the tavern on a busy evening than to go to such a stiff event. "Neither am I. But I am confident that House Marric would be honored with receiving a suggestion of an alliance with your family. Do you perhaps know why Lady Trevelyan doesn't see the wisdom in forging an alliance?"

"Not at all. She has trouble expressing her feelings on certain subjects. I'm sure we'll find out at the meeting though. She may want everyone to give her their opinions and I think an alliance would be our best option. Killing would be a last resort idea. We want as little bloodshed as possible." She lead Jorvan towards the end of the hall and made her way up a spiral staircase.

"I am afraid that it is a bit ironic to tell that to a sellsword, Lady Trevelyan," was the slight amused reply of Jorvan as she stated killing was the last resort. The answer brought the question up if she had ever seen somebody die or even took a life. Probably not, which he would perhaps in another time and setting envy her for. "Allow me," Jorvan said as he would offer her a bit more support to lean on as they would climb the spiral staircase. It wasn't probably needed but the narrow spiraling room made Jorvan watch out to watch out that he wouldn't be too uncomfortable close to her. "But maybe it might be my experience and expertise but sometimes the last resort shouldn't be saved until last, wouldn't you agree?"

"I suppose, if it's all you can do." She cringed a little at the thought of spilling blood; hopefully, they'd never need resort to that sort of barbaric behavior. "Unless it's absolutely necessary."

Though some sellswords would have likely been insulted, however, Jorvan was okay with the comment. "Perhaps it is all I will be able. A doomed existence, I fear," he mocked her playfully. She pursed her lips in amusement. "I can only imagine. All I fear I've known is isolation." She chuckled a little and felt her cheeks color a little. "It's not fun either, but I hope that'll change. Someday."

"Sometimes, isolation doesn't have to be a bad thing," Jorvan stated, a bit more amused as they climbed the stairs together. "Someday, perhaps." He mumbled the last word as they were nearing the top of the stairs.

"I'm sorry, did you say something?" She glanced over at him.

"Yes, but it isn't to fret about," Jorvan said.

Zahara turned her head back to the front as they made it to the second floor and began to approach the council room doors down the hall. "When is isolation a good thing? I've always disliked being confined to these walls. You get so much freedom."

"I honestly don't see much of the problem. You are safe from the cold, hunger and many other problems." Jorvan started on a calm and almost collective tone, "Got people who are here to care for you and aid you in your needs. Many consider it quite the dream," the man added, the last sentence having another bit of playful mockery to it.

"It's not a dream when it's all you've ever known. We're here."

A pair of tall double doors opened before them.

"I can only hope this meeting is quick."

[/fieldbox]
 
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[fieldbox=Another Hunt, #1589FF]
Sven
Hunter for House Trevelyan


South-West of Tornburg


A pack of small, wild boars were roaming in the fields that went in the direction of the mountain. They were out in the open, no where for anyone to hide or attempt to ambush them. And even if anyone tried, the wild boars were known for their ferocity. That was exactly why they needed to approach this in a proper manner.

The pack Sven and two others overlooked consisted of five boars. If this went wrong in any manner, it could mean all of them would either suffer very rough injuries, or worse. But considering none of them intended on coming back broken, the two others prepared their short bows while Sven took aim with his long bow. Shooting his arrow high, it reached further than where the boars stood. All of the boars immediately turned towards the spot the arrow hit, and the other two men with him took aim while Sven cocked another arrow.

Three more shots, and two of the boars were struck in the back of their heads, making them drop to the ground. A third was hit in its leg and fell to the side. One of the men gave off a sound that was clearly displeased with his shot, but quickly cocked another arrow alongside his mates, and all three took another shot at the boars who were now running towards them.

All of the boars were now on the ground, four dead and one injured. Sven approached the injured one slowly, and the hurt animal made clear indication of trying to hit him. One of his fellow hunters came and placed his leg on the boar's neck, putting some force so it would be much more steady while Sven kneeled down and took out his hunting knife. The boar, feeling what is coming, started squealing with much more intensity, but a few moments later the noise that came from it would stop. Now all they had to do was wait for the third hunter to come with the horses, which they tied to a tree a bit of a distance away to allow them to go in quietly.

"So, the old Lord is dead. And I don't know about you, but I haven't gotten paid in quite some time now. I gotten job offers from a couple other places, and I'm certain you could get some yourself." The man said, and Sven merely shrugged as he slowly moved the boar bodies to be next to each other and begun carefully removing the arrows from them "I'll stop working for House Trevelyan when I see fit, or when they decide to stop hiring me." He responded as he found the arrow in the boar's leg broke into two. That's another piece of ammunition lost.

The other hunter raised an eyebrow before spotting the second hunter at the distance with the horses. One horse carried three boar bodies, one carried the two other hunters, and one carried the last two. Sven walked alongside the horse that carried three as they made their way back towards Tornburg, with the assumption they would reach the hold within a couple of hours unless they started moving a bit faster. After rearranging the boars so that there was one on the same horse as the two other hunters and one on a horse with Sven, they started travelling faster, and believed they would arrive within an hour.

While Sven wished more hunters would come along, he understood many more hunters nowadays were in the same mindset as the hunter who just spoke to him. Not getting paid was somewhat frustrating, but he had a different issue in mind. One which took priority to his own pay.

His remaining family would always take priority, in his book.​

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[fieldbox="Break-Frosthold, wheat, solid"]
A collab done by Lesli and Zane

Characters: Sanah and Rydan faerson

Summary: Being called upon to a banquet to pledge fealty while bending the knee to the new lord of House Marric, Rydan and Sanah discuss what they will do, while hope they will find some way to gain their sister back.
[spoili]It had been some time since she had ridden towards Frosthold. Then again, much like previous times, there wasn't much of a joy present with Sanah as looked in front. Riding next to the Lord of House Faeron, the woman had been quite silent for most of the journey. The letter that had came was one that had came from Frosthold was one that hadn't bring much satisfaction for Sanah. And while only Rydan was requested, Sanah had made it clear that she would come with her brother. Though if anybody would expect her to swear fealty without any demands made in return, then they would be in for a surprise.

"How much were you promised, again?" Sanah asked, her eyes still focused on the road that they were riding on. With the presence of the most loyal guards of their household, who knew better than to leak any word to an outside force, Sanah considered that the topic they would discuss could be held right now.

He had only been to Frosthold a couple of times with each visit not really being a favorite of his. One such visit was to swear fealty to Elrin the Odd, which went without any pressing issues to really speak of. The second time was when the plans were made for Liana to stay in Frosthold yet now their new lord Anselm, was requesting him to come to Frosthold and swear fealty but also bend the knee. Just on that message alone, was enough to annoy Rydan yet here he was on his way to do just that... on a bribe. Well buying loyalty isn't uncommon, yet to spend that amount was a bit crazy if you asked him.

Looking at his sister he would smirk a bit as he looked forward once more "Thirty Gold Dragons, plus our sister." Rydan would respond, not trying to hide the amusement in his voice. If this was how Anselm planned to get everyone on his side, then he was going to be broke real soon.

"Thirty Gold dragons." Sanah repeated in a soft voice, that somehow had something threatening to it. "And you believe that they would release Liana out of service?" She asked, shooting a frown sideways at Rydan. "I even wonder why we should not head to Oldbury and meet up with House Lockguard. If they can refuse to go to Frosthold and even be paid wealth for it, why would you step to just thirty Gold dragons." It was more of a thought out loud as Sanah would scoff and add something to her comment. "Then again, Lainah is more worth than I reckon the Marrics even can guess."

He tensed slightly as she repeated what he said, he wasn't a fool to think the different tone in her voice was something to ignore. So as she frowned at him asking if actually believed they would release Liana from service he shook his head. "Not truly, yet if they are spending all this gold on all his houses Bannermen. Then he may be just foolish enough to do such." he stated as she brought up House Lockguard refusing to go and getting paid for it. As Sanah mentioned Lainah's worth he could only nod in agreement. "I rather just have her back, something tells me this new Lord thinks money will solve all his problems."

"Good. I imagine that it will be good to have Lainah back. She probably would like to inform us all about her time in Frosthold," Sanah said as she slightly raised her chin. Knowing fully well that there were more reasons why they wanted their sibling back, Sanah was genuinely concerned about the matters of state. If a simple small house like Gardway, that just ruled over some villages and farmsteads, had the nerves to tell House Marric to back off until the debts were paid, Sanah couldn't see much harm if they would demand more. Then again, they had to play their cards carefully. "If Lord Marric does think that money can buy everything, he will learn his lesson sooner or later. I am curious if any other invited house will partake in this banquet. I take it that House Hornwood won't be there but if they are," the voice of the woman trailed off as she shoot Rydan a meaningful look. "Then I suppose you can try to get some new friends."

"I'm sure she would love too, after all it would be interesting to know if Frosthold actually can see everything from it's location." Rydan would say bringing up that rumor that nothing could ever escape Frosthold's watch, although personally he didn't buy into that rumor. He chuckled a bit at her statement of him learning his lesson sooner or later if he kept throwing money at everything. "Well they call him the wise. Guess we will see just how much of that is true. Yet new friends huh? It would be nice to speak to the other Lords, if any of them even show up. For all we know we could be the only house actually showing up to these demands."

A soft snicker could be heard from Sanah as she briefly lowered her head, raising her left hand to run it through her hair. Much like Rydan, she wasn't convinced of the rumor. Perhaps before Elrin 'the Odd' had reigned over House Marric and Frosthold, there was some truth to that but she sincerely doubted it. "They actually do? I thought it was some kind of self-proclaimed title. If that is the case, you should consider what title befits the lord of House Faerson." As Sanah's eyebrows slightly perked up, the woman gained an amused tone in her voice. "Perhaps something as the 'Friendly' should fit? Then again, that doesn't sound awe-inspiring, does it now?" The comment of Rydan if any other lords would show up made Sanah ponder on it for a second. "I am guessing that we might be surprised. But if you give a hound a treat for every time it won't listen, then why would it stop being disobedient?"

"Well.. thats just another rumor I heard. For all I know, maybe you are right and it is self-proclaimed. Maybe he spent a few Gold Dragons to get that title out there." he said while his eyes perked up as he looked at Sanah trying to think of a title for him, so when she came up with friendly he laughed a bit as it certainly wasn't awe-inspiring at all. "I beg to differ. I think I'm a rather friendly guy to my friends." he joked back before they got back on topic. "So you think othe houses are going just to get free money for it? Well if it's the amount he promises people, then I can see why they would go. You can do quite a bit with just the amount were promised.. Yet we could do a lot more, if the number went up."

A smile started to grow on Sanah's lips as she couldn't resist but to shake her head lightly on hearing the comment. Perhaps there was some truth to that. Which would be quite interesting, she figured, to share it with others. The question of Rydan caused the smile to vanish as the woman thought about it for a moment. "I think that they are just going to get or keep their money. Money can purchase loyalty to a certain extent. But seeing that the late lord Marric made a mess, I doubt it. Distrust is easier to gain than trust. And tends to stay longer. If he is promising money to vassals who threaten to disobey him, why would they go? It is just as you said, perhaps there is more to gain from it once such an offer has been made." She wondered about something though. Deciding to voice her thought, Sanah would once more frown slightly. "Yet, I can't help but figure out what kind of amount we need. I think that we don't even need money. Unless you would desire another charity event. But I can arrange and organise that without any Marric gained wealth."

"Ahh but we already know that hes willing to spend money to try and calm a problem down, who says we cannot benefit from that as well?" he was honestly just trying to see how far this Marric would go to get everyone on his side. He was in a very bad situation this Anselm. One where all your bannermen were rather upset with how your father ran things. Made him wonder just what he would do to try and stamp the problem out. Money wasn't going to work, so what would he resort to next? Violence perhaps, maybe even fake promises. It was tough to say, not even he wanted to go but the problem layed in that House Marric had their sibling. "I know we don't need the money, it was more so a wonder on how much he would be willing to go. A lot of things you can do with a large enough sum, a lot of our own money we don't have to spend basically. So no to the charity event, I'm certain the people are more content with our rule than they were with fathers by a long shot." Rydan would state as he trailed into silence a bit. "So you have any ideas on how we can go about getting our sister back, should they indeed decide to keep her?"

The smile returned with the first reply of Rydan. There was a fitting response on the tip of Sanah's tongue, on if Rydan couldn't else gain the 'Wise' title at this rate. The question on how they could gain Laina back if House Marric would decide to keep her, Sanah would remain silent. "If they decide to keep Liana, we have to show restraint. We can easily muster a force that makes us the stronger party. All we need to do is to appeal to the lords of the Houses that don't favor the Marrics. While our name isn't stained with controversy, it should be a last resort. When we are faced with such a decision, just leave matters to me. One way or another, no Faerson will be a political hostage to another house as long as we draw breath.."

That was his sister all right she already was thinking ahead on what to do should their sister not be given back. Gaining the other Houses favor from the Marrics shouldn't be too hard to do. If anything they probably were already more favored by them. Well he knew what he had to do later, which houses he wanted as allies was the question though. Yet she told him to leave matters to her, which was already a terrifying thought. "Agreed, most certainly it won't be our little sister either."

"No, indeed." Sanah wondered what Liana would even do if her freedom would be on the line. Perhaps more men would slowly succumb to the terror of a slow death claiming them. "I do have brought a small surprise for our baby sister. I reckon that she would be quite thrilled with some new clothing than to constantly walk in the same dull old dresses. A softer smile flowed on Sanah's lips. She was getting a bit tired of the slow riding but there was no need to hasten themselves towards Frosthold. "What would you do if a representative of the Boltons will be present?" Sanah asked suddenly, throwing a sideways look at Rydan.

"Oh I'm sure she would be quite thrilled with such a gift. Probably wise you picked it. My sense for fashion was never my strong suit." Rydan said slightly wondering if it was actually just clothing she was giving to their sister. Then she would ask a new question, one he wasn't quite expecting. "Well we know how they act. Being careful of our words is a must. So that is a difficult question, getting attention drawn to us would be both good but bad at the same time. Maybe we can attempt to make the Boltons see that House Marric isn't really.... reliable."

Sanah would erupt in laughter as Rydan expressed that his sense of fashion was never his forte. "Sorry, my lord, but your fashion is really not the best. Then again, that is where I am around for, I imagine." Rydan's sister would respond. The answer on her question caused some silence, so far that was possible with the armed and armored retinue on horseback around them. "Good. Seems we do start to think more alike, my lord.~"

He couldn't help but smile as his sister found amusement in his fashion statements."Fair enough on that. You do know best after all." he mentioned knowing that if he was allowed to leave their home, he would certainly gain a title and it wouldn't be one he wanted. "Well that seems like the smartest approach, we don't need to worry about the Boltons for now. Hell they probably don't even know of our House, they probably just call on everyone under them for their fight without thinking of it."

"Probably. I can't really blame them. With the advances that the Starks are making, I recon that sooner or later the Boltons will call the banners. And the Marrics will then request ours." She said it with a softer voice but no sliver of a threat present. "But that is a situation we will think about once we have dealt with getting Liana back. Or being certain that she is doing well. Else the Marrics will have to raise the banners against us," there was a playful tone rising in the perhaps threatening phrase but Sanah was certain that Rydan wouldn't be naive to think it was all just a game for her. "And there it is." She stated as they could see Frosthold on the horizon, being nothing more than a small speck instead of a formidable site.
"I do hope they will allow us to take a bath. I rather not reek like the back of a horse during a banquet."

"It will take more than just throwing men at the Starks in hopes of taking them down though. Yet as you say thats a matter that we can discuss more once we have our sister back. Boltons probably won't even care that much about that if they are still promised their troops when called upon." Rydan said not worrying that much about Sanah's words of House Marric raising their banners against them should anything have befallen Liana. That would have to wait though as in the distance was Frosthold, still a good bit away but they should get there soon enough. Hearing that his sister wanted a bath first made him laugh. "Trying to impress a Lord there sister? I never thought you would be the kind of woman to worry about such things."

"You certain about that? Perhaps it will be quite wise to throw men or even money at them." Sanah said as her eyebrows would once more slightly perk up. "And perhaps I might. Who knows, perhaps Lord Marric will show me some interest or I can see if Lord Hornwood can use some company." Sanah joked as she had no such interests. Not for men she hardly knew. "Perhaps you should consider if you can't impress a lord or lady as well? Though, when we do arrive there. I hope it is clear that you won't chase anybody. I doubt we will get any wealth when you start to break hearts left and right, my lord."

He had to resist bursting out in laughter at her mentioning that Lord Marric might show some interest. "Sister you can do so much better than that and we both know it." Rydan said with some chuckles escaping him only to give a smirk to whats he said next to him. "Now now. I am a perfect gentlemen. When have I ever broken the heart of a lady. I dare say your words wound me." he would say smiling to show he was joking. "I will try my hardest to not break anyone's heart though. I'll just stick with impressing them."

"We both know. It is just always the question if others know," Sanah said with an evidently feigned arrogance. Hearing the later comment of Rydan caused Sanah to turn her head a bit more towards Rydan. The eyes of Rydan's sister locked on the lord himself, just remaining silent for a long moment. "Are you certain you want to bring that up?~" She would eventually joke back. "Good. Just don't try to do something as I don't know. Juggle with full glasses of wine. "

As they were nearing Frosthold, it wouldn't cost much time for them to be allowed inside and guided towards the keep of the castle. "You know, perhaps you will be in luck. You are aware that some Houses still follow the old custom that the lady of the keep or home will bath her guests or is forced to suggest it?~"

"I only tried that once and I dare say I did a good job of avoiding the liquid." a playful tone coming from him before he would focus his gaze on his sister at what she just told him. "I'm aware yes, but I'm also a grown man.. What are you trying to suggest here sister?" Rydan would ask, wondering if this a teasing remark, or if she was being serious.

"That I hope that you will know what you answer with if such a suggestion or offer will be made, Lord Faerson," Sanah said, lowering the volume of her voice a bit as she reckoned that they would now need to wait what would happen. She was really hoping that they could get some comfortable lodging cause she deemed it anything but wise if the Marrics would demand them to bend the knee after the trek that they had past them. Or perhaps some people did like others to reek of horses?[/spoili][/fieldbox]
 
- Anderon Battley -
Sworn Shield of Lady Trevelyan
|| Tornburg - Meet Room ||
@AceSorcerer @Oetje @Nim @Sketching101 @espoir @Gerontis

The passing of Lord Carron Trevelyan took many by surprise. His kindness and sacrifice for House Trevelyan and Tornburg was expected to grant him blessings from the Gods. Seemingly he even owed the Gods silver stag and they could not be so magnanimous. Despite his downfall, his memory would not be forgotten by neither noble or commoner. In early years, Lord Trevelyan expressed many righteous characteristics. He was heroic and loved by all - a man faced with unjust scrutiny upon reaching the end of his term. By his side, Anderon felt affected by the indignant remarks of his contracts. The events brought forth by the Blood Brothers caused a ripple effect which led to the end of a generous Lord.

Anderon served Lord Carron for seventeen long years. He took the mantle after his own father's passing - Carron believing the Sworn Shields should remain in the Battley bloodline. There were many battles, each rigorous and time-elapsed. Every battle took time and stock form the reservoir, funding coming from 'donations' that were provided by other Houses. The peril did not strike until the rebellion of housebound bandits. The loss of respect and trust struck the heart of the Trevelyans. Anderon was set to plead for the mercy of many natives, but lives were lost as words did not fill pockets and purses.

With contracts unpaid and debts to be returned, Lady Amber Trevelyan - the heir to Lord Carron Travelyan - called forth a meeting with the entirety of the counsel. The assigned Sworn Shield of Lady Treveylan, Anderon swore an oath to protect, advise and serve the elected daughter. He assisted her father for years and vowed to continue to serve under his daughter's reign. As part of the counsel, Anderon was the first to reach the meet hall, respectfully bowing after crossing the double doors. The young girl's features expressed her despondency, a lack of confidence brew over her shoulders as she walked.

"My Lady," Anderon started, "Please, let us prepare for today. Contracts and other counselors will arrive soon to design a plan of action. We cannot let them see you wavered by resent events. I understand my words' harshness, but they will see this as a weakness, do not let them judge you for what you're not." Anderon walked towards Amber, lifting a hand to her right shoulder.

"Your father was a kind soul, but he showed strength when it was needed. Men will judge you for being a women, women will judge you for being too weak. The people here today will judge you for both. Wipe away your grief, look at each of them by the eye and do not waiver. As they sit, you stand. We will provide counsel, every input different. My personal suggestion: Do not make a decision. Send everyone away and decide afterward. You will triumph as Lady of this House. You are more like your father than you know."

The double doors suddenly re-opened. Lady Zahara and Jorvan entered the room, silence filling the dorm. Anderon bowed to the heir's sister, nodding at the sergeant. He turned to Amber and watched her reaction, hoping she would head to his direction. The next chapter of House Trevelyan was about to begin and these people had a front row seat.​
 
[fieldbox="The Marric Twins, #ff4d4d, solid, 10, Tahoma"]

A collab between Violet and Jason


The boy sat quietly in his room, despite the early hour he had already dressed for the day. Given recent developments, Alexander had figured today would be among many long days to come. With his brother in charge now, for better or worse. Though Alexander had figured he would help in certain matters, wanting to ensure their family's position. For now, however, he was relaxing in a simple, yet comfortable, chair within the room. Reading an interesting story about a dragonslayer, thinking about how he would have once dreamed of being like this young hero.


Meera had hardly slept a wink in the past few nights. She thought it had been due to the stressful times that lay ahead of her family, but now she was not so certain. Since the passing of her father Anselm had taken over and Meera as his sworn advisor has stepped in to help guide him through the transition. This of course meant she had to pull many of her resources to make sure everything was running according to plan.


Once she decided to no longer twist and turn in her bed, it was nearly the crack of dawn. Letting out a small leisurly sigh she let her body be pulled from the warmth of her bed. Stretching her hands over her head as she yawned before letting her feet touch the cold wooden floors. She could see Valeria, her wolf dog, stretched out on a mat just a few feet away, snoozing peacefully as if nothing in the world mattered. After a few minutes of hair braiding and outfit choosing she had her brunette locks pulled away from her face and a dark navy dress adorned her body. It was then she opened her door slowly, as to not disturb the other members of the Frosthold, and scurried a few doors down to her brothers. Throwing the door open to marched confidently into her twins room to find him sat in the corner with his nose in a book. "Honestly Alex, how do you expect to get anything accomplished if your nose is always pointed at a new book?" She teased


"Good morning to you too, Meera. Of course you can enter, I'm good, how about you?" Alexander responded without even looking up from his book. Then looking towards his twin with a half grin, to show he was not actually upset, the man stood. "What brings you here, little sister? Unable to sleep?" He asked, followed by a sigh. He knew that feeling all to well, uncertain of what the furture of their family looked like. Certainly with their brother's reliance on pure money to reign in power. They'd go bankrupt before they actually got anywhere, he figured.


Meera couldn't hide the soft laugh that followed her brothers answer. "Good morning Alex," she paused before sitting on his bed and letting her eyes drop from his. "I can never seem to sleep anymore." she replied softly, her fingers finding there way to the silver pendant that hung from her neck. "Even the winds don't soothe me like they use to.. it's like they refuse to talk to me as well" she said as her eyes fluttered over to the window. "I fear our house is being lit on a fire and I can do nothing but watch it burn." She said, her voice dropping in pitch as she recalled the past few days events.


"Moping about it will not get us anywhere either, dear sister. I was about to go for a walk, care to join?" He asked her, as he stood to head outside of the room. "Afterall, we need to discuss important matters. Like the way you gaze at the Dornish Bastard." He said with a small smirk, walking towards the door as he knew he likely had her attention. Grabbing his cloak, he offered it to his twin. "Pretty sure everybody here would have my head if I let you freeze, Meera." he said, a hint of concern in his voice.


Meera's thoughts had drifted far from the Frosthold, instead she worried about what the bannermen houses sworn under House Marric were doing, thinking, and plotting. She had sent a few of her resources to the countryside, hoping that a few would return plentiful. Though she had heard nothing yet, not even the winds that usually blew through the Frosthold. Her thoughts were interrupted as Alexander spoke. Suddenly she whipped her head around at his words of Hel Sand, the dornish bastard. "Alexander Marric!" she exclaimed, shocked at the least. "I"m a lady!" she said proudly, sitting up a bit to straighten her posture. "Besides.. it's not like he sees me as anything more than a northern lady anyway" she added softly. Alex's words had shocked her, not because they weren't true, but because she hadn't known he'd figured it out. She was usually so good at keeping secrets, from everyone but the person who shared the womb with her..


She got up from her spot on his bed and nodded. "Sure a walk could probably clear my head a bit" she said as she made her way over towards the door. "keep the cloak, I'm a big girl" she teased with a playful hit to her brothers arm. "I survived the woods without a cloak, I'm sure I can survive a morning walk with a brisk wind" she replied as she opened the door and peaked her head out. "Coast is clear" she whispered with a smirk back to her twin.


Raising an eyebrow and still draping the cloak over her shoulders, he led the way out of his room, looking back at her. "He's a bastard. I'm sure you know why that will not be allowed. Not to mention, Meera, why are we checking if the coast is clear? I figured I was allowed to spend time with my twin." He said with a shrug, strolling into the halls, and talking casually until they were away from other ears. Outside, on a small balcony overlooking the surrounding area. "Tell me, Meera, what is going on exactly? I've sadly been entirely too busy with my own matters to find out myself." He said, looking towards the girl with a calm expression. He hoped she would tell him, as Alexander trusted nobody in the world more than Meera, and hoped she felt the same.


Meera rolled her eyes but accepted the cloak that was draped lightly over her shoulders. "I know he's a bastard. I'm well aware of my situation.." she snapped, her eyes going soft as they landed on her brother. "He's different Alex.." she whispered as they made their way down the stone hallway, draped with the art of Marric's past. "I'm hiding from my repsonblities and my hand maidens, that's why we have to be quiet." She said, a pleading look in her eyes as they walked towards the stairwell that led out of the main castle corridor. "I just want to escape for a few minutes, just to be anyone other than Lady Marric." She said looking over at Alexander as he spoke. She trusted him more than anyone in the land.


She sighed softly before stopping under the shelter of the towering castle and leaning close to her brother. "Nothing good dear brother.. House Marric is dealing with some.. power struggles.." She said with her eyebrow raised, hoping Alex would get the hint. "Anselm and I wrote to our bannermen a few days ago.. Hoping to reunite the bannermen under the new Lord Marric.. Asking them to come bend the knee to him." She said, with a small sigh escaping her pink lips as the winds blew harshly through the Frosthold. "Only the Faerson's agreed to come.. and only to collect their sister, Liana" She leaned into her brother, breathing deeply into his shoulder to collect herself. "Father really kept a lot form us.. and it's all coming to light now."


Looking hard towards his sister, Alexander heard his worries being confirmed. The rumors that even smaller houses were refusing to come when called seemed to be true. Then a frown grew on his features. "What is brother thinking? If father angered our bannermen, our first order of buisness should be repairing those bonds. Throwing some money at them, then inviting them to bend the knee... that'll only cause more problems." He said quickly, letting out a deep sigh. Running his fingers through his hair, he wondered something to himself but decided not to speak on it for the moment. "I'm not surprised that House Faerson wants Liana back, and with our current situation it might prove unwise to force her to stay. Unless she just loves it here, which I would doubt given situations. Still, a shame to see her go. She's kind, I would've liked to speak with her more." He said with a shrug, and deciding he would need to speak with his older brother later.


The twins of the north stood silently on the balcony outside, enjoying the company as they watched the Frosthold come to life. Meera stood silently as the winds blew through her hair. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the soft breeze that calmed her. "I feel a change in the winds Alex.. and I'm not sure if it's a good thing or not." She said, looking over to meet her gaze. "Anselm is only trying to convince the houses to meet us, we have to repay several large debts and command respect from our houses.. while maintaing enough money to pay the Boltons and feed our people." She shook her head before looking up at the sky. Meera's mind was wandering a million miles away. What could the future possibly have in store? Meera wondered if even her name could bring a propsperous era on the House at this point.


Alex chose not to respond on her having a feeling of a change coming. Though he would wager that he could guess which of the two options it would be for. "He invited them to bend the knee, not to meet us. While our issues are still unresolved. These are two entirely different things." He said, eyeing his sister carefully and wondering just how stressed she was. "Come, sister, lets head back then. Have one of your handmaidens draw you a bath. Take some time to relax, and just be yourself. Then we have to get to work. Nothing will fix itself unless we make it. Besides, nothing can stop the twins, now can it?" He asked with a slight smile on his face. "When the snow falls." He said, beginning part of an old saying between the two that Meera had started as a young girl. At the same time, guiding her back inside.


Meera couldn't hide the smile that spread across her pink lips. "The wind blows" She said, finishing the twins saying. It comforted her to know that even in the tough times, Alex remained true to himself and to her. Nothing could stop the twins of the north, nothing and no one. "If they're smart at all they would just bend the knee.. Make it easier on everyone.. Besides. We all know the real enemy lies in the Red King" She said as they walked back inside the castle. She couldn't help but roll her eyes to her brother. "We have no time for baths and relaxation. But maybe you have time to flirt with my handmaiden?" She said with a glance over to her brother, her eyebrow rasied slightly as she looked at his face.


Alexander forced himself to keep a neutral expression, though he was sure Meera saw right through it. "Watch your tongue, sister. Never know who speaks with who." He says in response to her mention of the true enemy. I've not flirted with her once. That wouldn't be right of me. I've spoken with her, yes, but that was to try to get to know our guest. Along with ensuring she's comfortable and has what she needs. I think she is a kind, and cute girl. There is nothing more there." He said, looking towards his sister with a slight frown. "You have time to relax, and for a bath. Else you'll go mad and we both know I would be no good at taking care of a mad sister." He said with a light laugh as they approached Meera's room. Noticing the girl outside of the room, Alexander gave polite smile and slight bow of the head towards her. "And this is where I must go my own way. Remember what I said, Lady Marric. Both of you take care." He said, the final bit addressed to both girls as he turned and started maing way towards where he figured his brother was, hoping to figure out what was going on and get some matters rolling.


Meera chuckled under her breath at her brother's blank expression. She knew as well as him that she wasn't the only Marric with a secert love interest. She shook her head at the warning he gave her, though she was never one to watch her tongue anyway. "I'm not the one going mad dear brother" She said with a look to him. She noticed that Liana Faerson, a bannermen's daughter and handmaiden, stood outside her door. As Alex bowed and politely excused himself she looked onward as he left, watching his steps carefully before turning her attention to the girl. "Hello Liana, is there something I can help you with?" She asked as she opened the door to her room and invited the girl in.[/hr][/fieldbox]
 
[fieldbox=Amber Trevelyan, royalblue]
@AceSorcerer @-QT- @Nim @Sketching101 @sibylline @Gerontis

[ Lady of House Trevelyan ]
- In Tornburg, in the councilor's conference room.-

The first to enter the room was nobody else than Anderon Battley, one of the most veteran Sworn Shield that had served her father. A small smile would dawn on Amber's lips as the man spoke, starting speaking. She did listen to him but it wasn't that she had nothing else to say than something that cynical or out of frustration. The smile would briefly widen but in the light blue eyes, there wouldn't be any happiness visible.
"Thank you kindly, ser Battley. I will be okay though. As for my emotional state, I will manage. There is time later to mourn my lord father." Amber wasn't certain if she said it to comfort herself or make Anderon believe she was capable of holding this meeting.

Not much longer after Zahara and Jorvan would enter. The fact that they were so close to each other and judging from how their arms went to their own side, Amber shot a quick look at Zahara. The expression on Amber's face didn't show her doubt and suspicion nor would she voice it. Flashing a smile towards the two, Amber would gesture to the present people to take a seat. Normally she would have wait for her uncle and master-at-arms, Lionel Trevelyan. But she would not this time as her uncle was unlikely to come with the task he had been given, prior this meeting. Gesturing to the three present people to take a seat, Amber would wait before she spoke.Still standing behind the seat that once belonged to her father, Amber wouldn't sit down as she slowly and almost gently pushed the chair back. Turning to the few people present, her eyes would rest her gaze on each of the present people for a moment before her lips parted.
"I am glad that you all could come. Normally I would have waited for the others but I already have made various decisions as we don't have much time. We are all informed that the Blood Brothers hold many of my subjects as hostages. They demand a sum of money, each day making the sum larger. They number to almost two hundred men, trained and experienced in fighting. A number that we could easily overwhelm, despite their superior weapons and armour. The problem is, they got innocent small folk and if we do move in and beat them, many innocent lives will be taken."

Pausing she would lean slightly forward, placing her hands at the edge of the table.

"I won't rule with knowing that I condemned countless of lives to a horrible death because I didn't think of a better solution than what seems easy. I would like to hear each of you what you got to say or add to our problem with the Blood Brothers," Amber stated, though she had her own plan. Uncle Lionel had given her some thought on how to use the greed of the Blood Brothers against them, luring them away and keeping their force separated and small.
"I also figure that some of you have heard of the invitation of Lord Marric. With our own bannermen not having yet paid respect to the previous lord of this house, I am not planning to go to Frosthold. I don't see any reasoning of forming a pact or bond with a House as long as we can't even make our own bannermen follow us. Yet, I might consider to sent somebody to observe and just learn while the Blood Brothers will be dealt with. After that," Amber would straighten her back and fold her hands in front of her stomach.

"I will bring my bannermen back into line, one by one. As I will see to it that those loyal to me will be receiving their pay. Some will be paid double of what they were promised," Amber said, her eyes briefly settling on Jorvan. Staying silent, she would wait to see what they would say.

[/fieldbox]
 
Baylon
Frosthold
@AceSorcerer @Jason Targaryen


The bells of day break sounded loud in the silent morning. The sounds of morning crept through the poorly covered window that led to the room of Baylon the Blasphemous. The small and modestly furnished room that Baylon called home was located in the second story of the guard house. It was no pauper's quarters but with the way Baylon kept up with it one could assume it was. In the corner was a small wooden chest with no lock and next to it a double doored armoire. Next to the door was a hefty barrel with rope handles around the ends. The bed sat across from the window butted up against the wall where the door sat. The window cast light perfectly across the head of the bed, seemingly by design. The bed itself was the only thing of notable expense in the room, clearly one fit for a lord. The bed sat on four posts and was elevated from the floor. It's high quality linens were wrapped around the figure of an older man. With a loud groan the older man rolled away from the light for a moment in vain effort to cling to sleep. The clarity of morning had already sunk into his mind so he saw no point in keeping himself in bed. He rolled back to the edge of the bed and threw aside the linens to reveal his uncovered muscular figure. He was no hulking beast but he did not have the telltale signs of age. Like sunken gut and withered neck, or the sagging chest that came to some. Baylon slung his legs over the side and brought his hands to his face to rub away the sleep. One hand lingered longer than the other then was dragged down his face through the stubble. A second groan came from the man as he stood stretching his arms over his head. He moved to his window and gazed out over the center grounds of his new home.


Baylon turned towards the door hastily moving towards the barrel. His right hand scooped the top of the barrel first and hoisted it above his head. He slung the weight of it over his shoulders and brought his left hand to the barrel to secure it. He turned back towards the inside of the room, he bent one knee and dropped it to the floor while extending his other leg behind him. He repeated the process to opposite edge of the room then turned around to cross his room again. While he exercised he recalled his youth with fondness. He had done this very same task on a ship in uneven waters with ease when he was young but now he found himself forced to breath with each movement. After a score of repetitions he stood straight and brought the barrel in front of his chest. He let it sink low then brought it up to his chest and repeated the process for some time. This practice of using the weighted barrel was not uncommon among ship workers. His morning ritual hardly took him more than an hour to complete and at the end he found energy flowing through him. He set the barrel down over a shoulder and walked it to the spot by the door where he kept it.

Within the next few minutes Baylon had emerged from his chambers clad in his standard drab with weapons secured around his waist. He moved down the hall and to the stairwell that led to the main barracks. As he descended he heard the sounds of the guard house coming to life. A prideful smirk crossed his face saw that many were already awake and in armor preparing for their duties. Some of them were finishing their meals at the dining tables still and received a curt nod from him. He sat and took his meal quickly as he did every morning. He left his dishes there and went immediately to the door of the guard house. The old wooden door creaked as it swung wide and clacked as it was thrown shut behind Baylon. He moved quickly to the main hall to find Anselm and begin his day of service. As he moved through the castle he spotted a number of servants going about their day. As he neared the doors to the main hall he heard the rapid clack of someone's footsteps behind him. Baylon's hand rose to his blade hilt as he turned around to see a servant boy mid sprint.

"Boy!" Baylon snapped as he planted himself in front of the young man and crossed his arms.

"The guests are arriving. The Faersons and Corlaws are coming through the main gate. The carts are coming up the main road Ser..."

"Hollace you know my name," Baylon said putting a hard finger into the boys chest, "Go."

"Yes Baylon," The boy said with a nod as he retreated to complete whatever remedial task delegated to him. Baylon shook his head as he continued further into the castle to find Lord Marric. He took a right then a left and found himself looking into the great hall. As he entered the main hall of Frosthold he spotted his lord. The young lord stood near his throne, admiring the ancestral sword of House Marric. Baylon watched with a small smirk as Anselm maneuvered the damaged blade through the air as he approached. When the young man put the blade back Baylon made effort to look away for a moment. Looking back at the young man Baylon was met with the startlingly blue eyes of Anselm Marric. Baylon let his hands fall behind his back, clasping one in the other.

"Slept as well I could, Lord Marric," Baylon answered dutifully, "The Lords and Ladies are arriving. The Faerson's are already at the gates."

 
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[fieldbox=Liana Faerson, orange]
- At Frosthold. -

Waiting Laina wouldn't complain or show any expression that would reveal annoyance. It wasn't that bad to wait. Her hands folded together, she made certain that she was in nobody's way in the hallway. Being alone with her thoughts, Liana had barely even registered that two were approaching. The sound of a man laughing. Slightly turning her head, Liana was able to spot Meera and Alexander Marric approaching. Turning to face the two, she would give a courteous bow towards both of the Marric twins while remaining silent. While Alexander took his leave, telling them to take care, Laina would just lower her head respectfully for a short moment.

Waiting for Meera to speak first, Laina would make another short and gracious bow towards the other. "I am hoping I can be of service, my lady. Perhaps I may have been a tad too zealous and thus arrived too early. I apologise if I may have," Laina would simply before entering the room. Once inside she would stand aside and wait for eventual tasks that a handmaiden was required to do.


- Meera Marric, @Violet
- Alexander Marric, @Jason Targaryen

[/fieldbox]
 
[fieldbox=Anselm Marric - Frosthold, blue, solid, 8, book antiqua]
The young lord smirked softly, chuckling as he spoke up.

"Business as always, isn't it, Baylon? Very well. Send Madam Laina here- I need a moment to speak with her before her siblings enter the main of Frosthold. Otherwise, I want you to find Meera and go with her to the main gate to welcome our guests on my behalf. Despite their penchant for punctuality, I am somewhat surprised that they arrived somewhat early... I, personally, wasn't expecting them to arrive until this evening at the latest. Thankfully, their rooms should be ready before noon. Other than that, the Red King is sending one of his sons according to message recieved by raven earlier today, so make accomodations in the guardhouse or the barracks for his escorts- ten guards, if I remember correctly. I'll have a copy of the note sent to your office. Meera will handle the other aspects, as she is wont to do. I'm sorry to dismiss you so soon after you find me, but it looks like I'll have to move up an affair or two to keep things in order should and of our other guests arrive. I'd like to see you and the twins in my study before the noonday meal to discuss our affairs for the banquet."

Anselm soon popped his neck- he honestly hadn't expected them to arrive so soon. Maybe they had something they wanted to take care of beforehand. Soon, the lord turned around, massaging his palms as he gazed out the window. Otherwise, the new lord would take a deep breath before speaking again, this time to the owner of said heavy footsteps, his younger brother, Alexander. Anselm still remembered trying to persuade him to allo wtheir father to knight him before binding himself, or to achieve his knightship by serving in the Whiteblades. After all, he was the Second Heir, a mantle that then found itself not without a host of responsibilities.

"Ah, Alex, good morning. And here I half-expected you to have your nose in that new chapter until noonday. House Lockguard's repsentative has settled in, while young Master Gardner is out in the dining hall, I believe. Not that the arrival of the Faersons changes these things anyway, save for the fact the all our bannermen have made their way... Ah, I ramble. I should hope you slept well?"


@Violet @Aliceee @Jason Targaryen @HellHoundWoof
[/fieldbox]
 
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hel sand
I TREAT MY LOVERS THE SAME WAY I TREAT MY ENEMIES, WITH PASSION AND FIERCE DOMINATION

location: frosthold(training yard) | interaction(s): npc sellsword | mention(s): lord anselm (@AceSorcerer) lady meera (@Violet)

The Dornish Bastard, name Hel Sand had been working for House Marric for over a year now and he had seen and learned a lot about The North. They very different than the people back in Dorne. Where Dornishmen loved excitement and were passionate about everything there was in life; the northerners appeared very oddly off-putting and cold to one another and to outsiders. Mostly towards him. The only ones that did at a later time show him some form of respect or decency, was the new Lord Marric and his lovely sister, Lady Meera. A beautiful brown haired woman. A woman who in such a cold place made The North feel as warm as the flames of the Lord of Light. One day, if by the Lord of Light's blessing, Hel would find himself part of the snow princess' life in a more intimate form. Until then, he would have to show House Marric and any other doubters how excellent a spear fighter he truly was.

At the very moment, he was sparring with a fellow sellsword of House Marric. As he used a wooden stick that represented The Scorpion's Tail, the sellsword used a wooden sword. Even in a practice battle, Hel Sand took no chances. "Non-lethal" weaponry could still cause damage in the hands of a mad man. That legendary smirk he held on his face for all times grew wider as the sparring got a little more intense. The Dornish bastard could tell the other male was getting frustrated with Hel's speed and maneuvers around the training yard.

"I believe you are treating me as if I was a child that has shit themself. You can do better, friend." Licking his bottom lip, as he prepared to dive out the way of the male's wooden sword. Sliding under the swing, as he expected what way the other would strike. Chin barely making it under without a tap from the wood. He could hear the grunt of frustration from the rather larger male. Speed in most situations, won against strength. The larger an opponent, the slower their strikes were. Hel just needed a few hits to defeat a foe. With his speed and his wonderful sets of weapons, there weren't many who could challenge him and win. Though for one to be overly confident in their own fighting prowess meant certain death. Hel would never see himself as the best at anything. For one to see themself as the best of the best, only left them open for someone else to come and take them down without much difficultly.

Yet, this battle was rather playful for him and he loved seeing the other sellsword sweat even in such a low temperature. "I thought northerners never sweat ... I guess I was mistaken." He said as he spun around the man that charged towards him, hitting the other's right shin and causing him to fall with a loud BANG! "Careful there. Wouldn't want Lord Marric to see one of his men fall to a Dornish Bastard, now would we?" Moving closer to help the larger male back up onto his feet.

Hel barely broke a sweat. That was nothing compared to an actual sparring match with other Dornishmen. That would have made him create another sea from his sweat; just from a practice fight against another Dornish. "Better we get cleaned up now, before someone smells the exhaustion wafting off of you."

Hel Sand like most in or around Frosthold had heard word that Lord Marric was having a banquet for the vassals of House Marric and he was inviting other Houses under The Red King and even The Red King's family was to attend. That was something he would love to see; yet he would most likely not be allowed to attend. Seeing a Dornish Bastard at such a banquet would probably make it worst for Lord Marric and since for now that man was the one paying him the gold coins, Hel would rather spend his time around Frosthold instead of such a meeting.

Maybe later he'd ask Meera about what transpired. He loved to see her before the day turned to a long night of cold and snow. "I believe showers are in order ..." He chuckled and headed into one of the unoccupied shower stalls and began cleaning himself off from the morning's activities.
 
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[fieldbox= Silence is a Virtue | House of Marric, #FA8072]
75864065eafceab0b565bcf8d194e8c0.png
A few rays of welcomed light peeped in through the cobbled walls of the room in which the raven haired woman slept in. There were no major windows in the room, but several smaller ones had been strategically placed for ventilation. Or so she liked to believe. They had probably been poked out or carved out by someone who couldn't stand a room with no connection to the outside world. Ida appreciated them, nonetheless. They provided a nice draft from the cooler outside wind and helped her see what others thought she couldn't see. The rays of light hit the floor, showing the debris and dust particles dancing around in the room through the breeze. Ida smiled at the sight, reminding her of her room back at the farm that she once loved so dearly. She still loved it, but it was now a forgotten memory that hid in the back of her mind and heart.

It was time to get up and assume her morning duties along with the additional work that she'd have to do, due to the banquet that would be hosted in the House. She had remained in her bed ever since the tolling of the bells, but finally had sat up in her bed and began running her fingers through her hair, combing out the lions mane that had formed over night. Once done, her fingers quickly braided her still damp hair before she got up to get dressed. Banging on her door brought her back from her reverie. Her morning rituals had become mundane and she went through them through mere muscle memory, her mind seeming to leave her body and dive into a deep thought. "You know what day it is, girl. Get a move on." The rough voice came from the outside. It was the same thing every day, and she believed it was the other servants of the house that would make any excuse just to try to make her day a bit less tolerable. Surely they had to be envious that Ida had quickly made her way up to be the lady's handmaiden, and she no longer had to do the dirty work that the others did. At least that's what Ida thought. Understanding that is she didn't leave the room soon, they'd be back, Ida quickly finished cleaning up and put the final touches on her every day wear. Including hiding The Sisters amongst the folds of her dress, holding them close to her body with the sash around her waist.

The young woman left her room in a hurry and began to make her way through the halls, turning quickly on corners and nearly giving others heart attacks. She was on a mission and it did not involve speaking to those that had nothing to do with it. While combing through the halls, Ida made sure to stop at certain rooms, looking through them and nodding to herself once she was pleased with the outcome. They were the rooms that the 'honored' guests would be staying in for as long as their stay would last. Ida had promised to make sure that the rooms would be fit and not disappoint the Marric's.

After seeing the rooms, Ida finally made her way to Meera's room. The last thing she wanted to do was keep her Lady waiting and upset her. She had grown fond of the twin and actually enjoyed her presence and company, even if they were in absolute silence. The others made Ida a slightly bit nervous and anxious, since she did not spend as much time with them.

[/fieldbox]
 
[fieldbox=Trevelyan Council, royalblue]
In Tornburg Keep,
A collab between Espoir, QT, Gerontis and Oetje.

Summary:
Lady Amber of House Trevelyan holds council. She got some feedback from her councillors that were present as well from the hired retainer, Jorvan. Once the advice and questions are asked, Amber clears some things out.




[spoili]
Zahara was inattentive to the way her eldest sister glanced at her and the stranger on her right side. She'd taken a seat on the left side of her father's chair— the one Amber was meant to preoccupy now— and folded her hands neatly across her lap. The meeting began and Zahara weighed their options in a precise manner. How could they pay back these men without accumulating more debt? Zahara listened intently to Amber's plan. "How do you expect to pay double with our crippling debt towards the Blood Brothers?" she inquired. "Where would those dragons come from? We'll lose money, rather than gain it," she stated. "I can't fathom why you'd prefer we don't go to the banquet. I offer to go. I think we could observe from afar and develop a potential alliance later on. Perhaps they could help us."

Jorvan took a seat, but only after everybody else had taken one. He would bow his head towards Amber Trevelyan and one of her Sworn Shields, though, before settling down. Listening to what Amber told them, he wasn't entirely certain why he should be here. If anything he just had the question on how they could arrange the debt to be paid to him. But he did become intrigued as Amber continued to speak. "I think that Lady Trevelyan means that she won't be paying the Blood Brothers, at all." The hired retainer spoke in a calm fashion, only slightly frowning. "A direct confrontation is the easiest way out but will cost the most lives. If you desire advise, m'lady, then I have some." Pausing for a second, Jorvan would place his arms on the table and fold his hands together. "Lure them out. They know that they won't be attacked right away as long as they hold hostages but they are also anxious to see some payment their way. Load a bunch of wagons with old crates and for good measure, put rocks in them. Then when they are lured away, get rid of them." Jorvan advised as he would shoot a quick look at Zahara and Anderon.

"As for the bannermen, I fear that I am not really versed in politics, so if Lady Trevelyan is looking for advise then I can't be of much aid," Jorvan concluded. He knew how politics worked. Thanks to his youth education as personal experience, he was aware how fickle the loyalty of bannermen could be towards a weak and mild liege lord or lady. The fact was, however, that he wasn't here to play politics. He was here to get paid for his martial expertise. Else he would like to see that promised money before risking to burn his hands at politics.

Over the years, the chairs surrounding the counselor's table had become vacant. The desolation that came with Lord Carron's downfall was deplorable. A Shield's service was tested during this time, their devotion challenged at the hands of uncertainty. Nevertheless, Anderon remained seated at this table. Year after year even to this day he listened and advised. This day was no different as events were becoming worse by the hour.
Silent and upright, Anderon sat in total silence. He listened to Lady Amber's proposals, her questions and watched her body language – sensing frustration and uncertainty. He'd been with her so long it was simple to read her verbiage through the simple gestures from her hands. It was not until Lady Zahara spoke that his ear was nerved. A backlash of questions erupted from the child's lips, addressing her Ladyship as you would address a commoner. It was evident that a breach between family and hierarchy had not been fostered.

Jorvan then joined in, providing direction towards additional bloodshed. Attacking the Blood Brothers would only complicate the issue and go against exactly what Lady Amber just proposed. The Blood Brother Guild were a group of fighters under contract with Lord Carron. With his passing, the contract passed on to his daughter Amber. No matter, there was a debt to be paid – the lack of remittance forcing the guild to take matters into their own hands. It was noticeable that many civils sided with the Blood Brothers and their action to call attention. There were contracts unpaid, more than House Trevelyan could muster in current day, and the Blood Brothers made it apparent.

"If I may my Lady," Anderon interrupted, his silence breaking after listening to what he had to. "The Blood Brothers have shown no hasten to receive their coin. They have yet to harm a commoner and it is doubtful they will. They are aware we outnumber their forces, if they harm a single soul, then they will rue House Trevelyan and their Ladyship. I suggest our first plan of action should adhere to preventing a civil war. You must present yourself before your land and provide them with security, honor and strength. Let everyone know that debts will be paid and contracts honored from this day on. It will take time, but it shall come forth tenfold," Anderon explained. "We must pay the Blood Brothers as we will pay every other person under contract with this House and like your sister suggested, it stars with House Marric's favor."

Amber's gaze locked on Zahara as her younger sibling spoke. Asking questions on how they would pay double with a debt already bothering them. Slowly Amber would lean on the table as her blue eyes didn't waver away from Zahara. Listening to her sister, Amber would wait for the men to speak. The sellsword and retainer spoke after Zahara. His comment made it clear that he caught on what the plan would be. Or perhaps he was known that some house rulers didn't have much against to punish previous sellswords in their service when they became nothing more than mere brigands? His suggestion was met with a slight nod as well his statement about politics. Something that Amber could forgive him as she was more after his judgement on a military action.

Then Anderon spoke up and caused Amber to shift her attention towards the man. Slowly Amber's right hand would travel to a small pouch at her waist. She would place the pouch on the table, once she had removed it from her waist. Slowly she would shove it forwards once Anderon was done speaking.

"Twelve." Amber said the sole word with a soft voice as her eyes settled on the pouch.
"Twelve fingers. There are twelve children that miss a finger. Making twenty-four parents who dread and fear for more abuse of their children. Making in total thirty-six people who perhaps can't sleep at night because of what happened."
She would straighten her back and gesture to the pouch as she continue to spoke.
"The Blood Brothers stated that more fingers would follow. And once there are no fingers, what will follow next? Hm? Perhaps we will get a maimed child dropped in front of our gate. The numbers will count up if something isn't done soon. The Blood Brothers demand payment or else they will make us pay in blood. I don't think we should negotiate or reward those who harm the people. If I show kindness and too much restraint to a bunch of brigands then it won't be long before a civil war will erupt."
The woman's tone became sharper as she talked, her gaze mainly shifting between Zahara and Anderon.
"I intend to pay the debts of my father. Our previous lord. But not by paying criminals and scum with money. Not by letting my people suffer. Or by sucking some cock of another house! Fuck the Marrics for all I care."

Amber's eyes narrowed as she would introduce a pause. She threw a look at the pouch in which the cutoff fingers.
"We would just gain another debt if we would seek aid from the Marrics. And I don't care if they have the answers to all our trouble. I don't even care if they ride unicorns and pink clouds that will make us all go to the land of moonshine and butterflies. I would just gain another debt. Our house would be nothing but a beggar, going from one to another benefactor. Our own bannermen will just point out that we are nothing without the support of another. Everything that the name Trevelyan will have and stand for will be nothing but the same as the price of the twat of a back alley whore."
She turned to Zahara as the sharp tone wouldn't vanish.
"If you desire to go to the Marrics, I won't send you to form an alliance or gain their favour. You will go with a small retinue and somebody else of my picking. You will go there and do nothing, but I repeat," a sliver of a threat surfaced in Amber's voice, "Nothing to go against my wishes. We don't need to kneel, cry, ask or suggest their aid. If you do go against my wishes, I sure hope you can run fast, dear sister. Cause I do intend to clean every mess that I have to clean up. And I do consider disobedience as very nasty."
Keeping her eyes locked with Zahara for a moment longer, Amber would now look at the present men.
"Our debts will be paid. But I won't kneel, beg or coerce any outside help. Many are still true and loyal to the House Trevelyan. I will honour the words of my house and see to it that it will rise again. One way or another."
[/spoili][/fieldbox]
 
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[fieldbox=Arthur, #FFBF00]

Seven years ago, White Harbour
Collab between Gerobb and Sketchers

[spoili]
The city had not changed a bit. Then again, Jorvan wasn't entirely sure how fast a city as White Harbour could change in a span of a few years. The docks were occupied by many figures. From sailors that were busy with and around their vessels as merchants that were shouting that the rugged men should be more careful with their goods. There were many more people present on the streets as Jorvan took the lead, looking for anybody that appeared as a captain of a vessel. His light brown knapsack was filled with the few personal possessions he hadn't left with the Broken Banner after he and Arthur parted ways with them. A frown started to flow on the features of Jorvan, visibly frustrated on that he couldn't find a person that seemed as a captain. "I thought that this would be way easier, you know," he grumbled, still looking around, "Just looking for a captain. Asking if he will sail towards Essos and then pay up some coin." A heavy sigh would follow the grumbling phrases as Jorvan ran his free, left hand through his hair.

"Perhaps we should hit an inn first and see if we can find a captain there?" He suggested, throwing a look at the man to his right. "Not sure about you, but I for one, would love some hearty lunch and a pint."

The young smith watched in amusement as he saw his brother grow frustrated. He looked at the ships anchored at the docks. "Aw, you're giving up a bit easily," he said cheakily before pointing back the direction they came. "I think I saw a tavern back there. There's probably some mead back there. Who knows? With any luck, we might even encounter a captain there." He scratched his chin as he spoke, looking over at Jorvan. "Captains got to sleep somewhere too, hm? Probably somewhere near the docks like that."

Throwing a look in the direction that Arthur pointed at, he slowly nodded. "I didn't imagine that this day would come soon," he said, sounding a bit amused as he shot a grin towards Arthur, "That you actually would get a good idea before I could hatch one!" The younger brother shot a quick jab at Jorvan's shoulder. "Don't be an ass! Ass!"

The jab earned Arthur a scoff as retort at first. "Just by your damned language, one would take you for one of those sailors. But go on, lead the way. Your idea, after all," Jorvan said as he gestured in an extravagent manner to slightly mock his brother to take the lead today. "I doubt that it can grow worse than that we will be harrassed by some poxy backalley wench. Wouldn't be the first time, would it now?" The question went with an evident amused ring to it as Jorvan didn't hold back a chuckle.

Arthur shrugged at the last idea, walking forward to lead the way. "Essos, huh? I wonder what kinds of people live there... Barren told me once that no one there had a face, and every town had dragons!" He turned around a corner towards the inland. "I can't wait to see all of that..."

Hearing what Arthur said, Jorvan couldn't resist to bellow a loud laughter as they walked together. "Barren said that? Not even surprised! Idiot probably thinks that north of the wall there is nothing but unicorns and giants living among wildlings. Bet he told you that if you kick a chicken on Sunday that it will remember the deed forever---" Another sharp blow would land on Jorvan's shoulder. "Like you'd know! You've never been to either of those places!"

This time Arthur would get a painful blow in return, aimed at the shoulder. "I might not have been to Essos but seriously? Barren as your source of information? He thought that if he called somebody a twat, it would be a compliment." The grin wouldn't vanish from Jorvan's lips as he recalled a certain time. "Do you remember when we both told and convinced that idiot to actually tell one of the maids that they were a twat? I seriously don't think I have seen somebody with a cheek more red than Barren's that day."

Arthur muttered something under his breath as he looked around. He scratched the top of his head before turning to the right and going through an alleyway. "Aha!" He pointed at the door at the end of the alley. "There we are. 'Mermaid's Abode'! Let's go find us a captain," he said with a grin.

"Mermaid's Abode? That is a silly name," Jorvan mumbled as he would scratch his neck briefly. "After you," He said, gesturing that Arthur could take the lead. From what Jorvan could see, the establishment didn't seem that half bad. Briefly he wondered if it was a good idea though. But he couldn't think of any reason not to go into the place. Following Arthur into the tavern, it seemed to be quite populated. Seeing no captain or person that could go through, Jorvan frowned. "Lets get something to eat and drink. No great journey was completed on an empty stomach."

Shoving past the drunk patrons at the doorway, Arthur reached an empty table. He sat down with a sigh of relief. "Ah... Time to eat some nice juicy meat!" he said with a grin. "Its name might be silly, but at least they have food. No need to be too picky about that, now is there?" He shot a glance around at the inside of the building, fixating on the drunks one table over. "Are you sure these aren't from Essos? Northerners should be able to hold their liquor."

"That is the second wise thing you say. My," Jorvan said as he sat down at the opposite side of the table. "Hm?" Subtly throwing a look towards the bunch, but he couldn't really tell. They did look apart. Their garbs certainly weren't adjusted to the growing cold that was the herald of winter approaching. "Probably. But I don't think that they have a captain among their midst. Perhaps we should just go to the port later and just ask around." The few drunken men did seem nothing more than trouble to Jorvan.

"Oh don't be like that," Arthur said as he got up. He took a step over to the table over and took a seat, to the surprise of everyone there. "So, you folks like the cold of the North?" he said with a grin. He looked over to the largest man in their ranks. "You folks know any way to go east? I bet you're just yearnin' for your blankets back home huh?" He let out a hearty laugh, but stopped when he noticed that his new friends weren't amused by his little joke.

"Don't you," Jorvan wanted to grumble towards Arthur but it was already too late as Arthur rose up and made way to the other table. Waiting for a moment, Jorvan couldn't overhear what Arthur said but judging from the frowns and few glares, it couldn't have been something positive. Slowly rising up from his chair, he wanted to think how he could get Arthur away from there. One of the men at the table said something in a foreign tongue, causing most of the table to laugh in a way that was clearly not meant in a friendly way towards Arthur. "Go away, dirtmonger. If we wanted to sit with the rats we would ask for your presence." The man said, his accent being somewhat thick.

"Ooh, how imaginative," Arthur said amusedly as he reached out for one of the coins on the table. As he picked it up, he stared at it. "Never seen something like this before. From far off I'd imagine. Would this be enough for a trip across the sea?"

Seeing what Arthur did made Jorvan try to move forward in a rapid speed. But he would be too late as the nearby man, to Arthur's right, would deliver a punch. The fist was aimed to collide against the cheek of Arthur as a sneer about thief was made in the same thick accent as the previous speaker. While the fist would connect and slam against the head of Arthur, Jorvan would come in as he grabbed the culprit by the back of his head. Slamming the man's head against the table, shouts of annoyance and anger would drive the previous atmosphere of the establishment away.

Arthur grunted as he fell sideways on the table with his ears ringing. He slowly got up to his feet, grumbling. As another one of the strangers rushed him into a table, Arthur grabbed a bottle as it was getting knocked over and broke it over his attacker's head. Just as the man stumbled back, the young sellsword shot a quick strong punch to the side of the man's temple, knocking him out cold.

Though he had managed to catch one of the men off guard, Jorvan wouldn't be in time to fully move out of harm's way. Spotting some movement in the right corner of his vision, the sharp pain quickly followed. Grunting as he felt another blow connecting to his jaw, Jorvan managed to keep himself standing. Instead of waiting for his attacker to land another blow, Jorvan would lower himself to evade a hook. Unleashing a roar, the sellsword would wrap his arms around his attacker's waist before picking him up and slamming him on a table, causing the furniture to break because of the violent force.

Seeing one of the men make a move from across the table they were eating at, Arthur sprinted forward just as Jorvan dived another attacker's hook. As the man was about to join Jorvan's brawl, Arthur flipped the table on the man, forcing him to leap out of the way and into another table nearby. The patrons at that table yelled incomprehensibly at the man as he got to his feet and rushed the young smith.

Hearing the sounds behind him, Jorvan wanted to twist around to see if Arthur was doing okay. But he wasn't given that chance as a man came running towards him with a bottle. With a quick side step, Jorvan managed to avoid being hitting with the bottle. Growing frustrated Jorvan would focus on the current threat, he was forced another time to move aside. Luckily his opponent was quite drunk, which negatively impacted the dexterity of the attacks. which was a good thing for Jorvan. "Stupidest idea, ever!"

As the drunk man slammed Arthur into the wall, he tried to push him off. "I didn't see you doing anything!" Just as the man threw a punch into his stomach, Arthur slammed both hands down to the man's back, sending him wheezing to the floor. Arthur leaned on the wall to catch his breath before looking over at Jorvan.

"Because," Jorvan grumbled as he would slam his right fist into the face of the hostile drunkard. The punch would cause the drunkard to reel backwards back. Quickly throwing a look over to Arthur, Jorvan would curse underneath his breath. Spotting the wheezing opponent of Arthur, Jorvan would turn and as he did turn his body, his leg would shoot out. The tip of his boot would connect to the chin, causing the wheezing man to groan and fall on his side. Leaning forward, the hands of Jorvan grabbed the man by the shoulder and neck, proceeding to drag him towards the nearby door. Grunting, Jorvan would ue his strength to throw the man out of the door, into the mud outside. "I was busy!"

Arthur kneeled near two of the groaning men and pulled off two pouch quickly as the atmosphere of the inn returned to its previous state. "With what, exactly?" Arthur asked. He went up to the counter and as the innkeep was about to yell, he dropped one of the pouches on it. He asked for some food and drink and the man happily obliged after checking the coin purse. He went back to Jorvan. "Looks like these guys had good enough money... I hope they're not important people. Well, even if they are, I doubt they'll remember us by tomorrow," he said with a hearty laugh as he sat down on one of the chairs.

Jorvan wanted to scold his sibling. But as he heard the last comment, a grin dawned on Jorvan's lips as he shook his head. "I suppose that I can perhaps then also forget this mistake." There were still some folk who threw a curious glance at the brothers but nobody seemed eager to make an attempt to approach them. Which Jorvan was content with. Dropping on one of the chairs, Jorvan would rub his jaw. It still ached from the earlier blows but it wasn't something that he would worry about. "But let us agree that we won't be impulsive from tomorrow on. I rather not get a dagger plunged into my bloody throat cause you got too curious, again."

"Oh, that's no fun," Arthur said with a grin as the waitress brought them two large tankards of ale. He raised his mug towards his brother. "Here's to us, and what awaits east!"

Eyeing the waitress for a moment, Jorvan would raise his mug towards Arthur. "To us and to the wealth we may find," the grin present on Jorvan's face would grow. "And to the beautiful women!" As the two slammedtheir mugs together, a bit of the ale would slip over. Bringing the mug towards his lips, Jorvan would take a swig, almost emptying the beverage present in his mug in one go.
[/spoili]

House Trevelyan's Forge

Inside the stone building, Arthur sat near the door inspecting the arrowheads he made. The long pyramidical shape of the steel allowed for it to pierce nicely even into plate armour from a decent distance. He placed it next to a couple of others beside him and picked up another arrowhead. He had an order to make a few for House Trevelyan, which he did, even if begrudgingly so. While they had still been working, Arthur and Jorvan hadn't been paid in a while. He didn't mind not being paid too much, since their basic needs were provided for them, but the fact that his brother was unwilling to leave so far bothered him. This short period seemed like a steep road downhill for him. It felt as though they wouldn't get to travel anymore, since his brother seemed to have his eyes on a calmer life.

The young smith placed the last arrowhead back on the table and wiped the sweat from his brow and glanced out the narrow window, seeing a couple walking towards the inner keep. After a couple of minutes of sitting still, he got up and walked over to the armour rack where a relatively small suit of plate armour stood, newly cleaned and patched. He stared at it for a minute before scoffing and walking back towards his chair. Just as he sat back down, he got up to his feet and restlessly paced around.

[/fieldbox]
 
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[fieldbox=A Family's Affair, #009999 ] -Harlstone, House Gracewood's Keep-

From the dusty fireplace, flames flickered through the hall, projecting shadows at the back of a dark figure. A few golden strands shining bright in the gloom of the night and hands well set on the arms of what used to be her father's chair, Ayleen sat in front of the fire, hypnotized by its crackling as it swayed and curled. She was known to spend quite some time resting on that chair, tapping with her graceful fingers against that harsh wood for hours. That night was no different.

Ayleen watched through the flames, her legs shaking, as the cracking door was roughly opened by Maester Lewyn. "Pardon m'lady. A raven, from Frosthold." he trembled nervously, handing out the message. "I believe it must be from the newly named Lord Marric, th-"
"Wouldn't it be? With that sigil and the signature?" she raised an eyebrow;
"Of course, my lady." he mumbled at the girl, who's focus was far from the words of the old man, but instead studying the received message.

"So, his Lord Marric wishes to invite us..." Ayleen's voice seemed weirdly amused by the letter.
"A humble attempt to establish a friendship between the two houses, it see-"
"... and bend the knee." she ended.

The two paused, giving each other time to aknowledge the awkard silence of the room. The girl recognized her being unforgivably harsh with the old man at times, but she just couldn't help it. He'd served her family for two generations, and yet she could not stand his presence. Somehow, the man reminded Ayleen of her father, perhaps the smell or the voice; she wasn't quite sure but what she was certain about, was of his plain incompetence.

"As I was saying, such arrogance shall not be tollerated, as Lady of-"
"I'm going. Have Erron prepare my carriage. I plan to arrive as soon as possible."
"But my lady... I thought yo-"
"I don't care what you thought. House Marric holds Jonnard prisoner, you should remember that better than anyone else in here. I don't plan to push this situation any further. Now, be gone."
With a sigh, the man left the chamber, without bothering to respond.

---

The next morning, servants flew from room to room, packing Ayleen's things for her departure.
It was the first time since years, that she'd seen the halls feel so alive. "I'll be back soon." she reassured herself. The idea of leaving her family's keep made her quite upset, but Ayleen had chosen the only trusted person to guard her lands: close friend and advisor, Ser Barrion had pledged his total submission to House Gracewood decades before the girl was born. Whether he could be fit for the role or not, it didn't matter to Ayleen: she trusted him to rule on behalf of her family's interests.

The journey lasted for atleast a day and a half, time that the lady spent at times sewing, at times sleeping. It was only when she heard the sound of a horn in the distance, that she got dressed, preparing to leave her carriage. On mount of a proud honey-colored stallion, she approached the gate of Frosthold as it lifted up, wondering who'd be welcoming her by the other side.

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[fieldbox="Making Plans, #ff4d4d, solid, 10, Tahoma"]
A collab between Jason and AceSorcerer


Entering the room, Alexander looked at the few others present for a few moments before addressing them. "I'd like a word with my brother, alone." He said firmly, his tone showing that he was giving an order as second heir to the house. Remaining where he was until he and Anselm were the last two in the room, he finally spoke up. "I suppose the answer to both your questions lies in Meera. Having a twin who barges into your room disrupts sleep and reading, though I do not mind. Anyways, we've got guests arriving and plenty of problems to address, let's skip pleasantries, brother." Alexander said, before letting out a slight sigh. "I've come today to ask two things. First, what are we doing about the... troubles with our house currently faces? I'm a Marric, so hopefully you'll understand my desire to become involved to help you and Meera get things under control. Secondly, I would like to know what we are doing with the Dornish Bastard." He said calmly, giving a light smile towards the end of his statements and keeping his face a mask of cool. Of course, inside he was already considering a multitude of options to preserve the house's status, and hoping Anselm had already thought of some of these.


The elder of the two sighed, gazing at the younger as he approached him, the elder of the pair also the shorter by about half a head. He cleared his throat as they were already alone, Anselm beginning to speak in his echoing baritone. "For our house to be of positive repute, I've first have to paid the many debts our father owed our bannerman. Twenty dragons in quarried stone to the Lockguards, thirty in raw debt to House Garner, plus five in interested due to the size of the debt itself. Thankfully we owed nothing to the Faersons, save that spear we already returned. My next business, in fact, is to release Lady Laina from that contract our father tricked her into signing- I'd rather have her here as a willing courtier than an unwilling servant. Thankfully by using what I accumulated form my soldiery, we had no need to use our overtaxed revinue, not to mention the funds starting to return from selling our father's rather... insane purchases. But I am rather curious- why ask about the Dorne? He has served us well, has fought by my side when I was called away by the Boltons, and is as loyal as can be. What issue do you have with him?"


"Only the stone? Those people were overtaxed and gave double the hearvest for that stone, then denied it. You'll need to send more than the stone. Not to mention, what of House Hornwood? We will need them." He said simply, thinking to how the houses were coming to bend the knee. Rather, representatives were coming as opposed tot he lords themselves. Something Alexander felt was a statement on their part. "Brother, send me after the banquet. With a letter stating I can negotiate on your behalf. You and Meera can clean up here, I will go to the houses and rebuild our relationships. You know I only want what is best for our houses, and of the two of you I am the least involved with matters around Frosthold. It would be an honor, to bring our bannermen back to our side. We want them not just serving, but being on good terms with us." He said, explaining his reasoning before moving onto Anselm's question.


"It might have to do with how the bastard eyes our sister. We can't afford for Meera to become involved with a bastard like him. That would ruin what little reputation we still have, and render her almost undesirable when it comes to marriages. We all have a duty around here, and I cannot let hers be ruined by a bastard." He said, keeping quiet his fears that the dornish bastard would only use his sister then leave her, something he would never be able to forgive.


"I know that the stone may not be enough, but it is- at the very least- a place for us to start. And if I send you, Meera's going you. While I certainly trust you to keep a shield close and a sword closer, your ideas of diplomacy usually consist of stabbing what doesn't agree with you." Anselm smirked, half-serious regarding that statement. "And either way, according to my knowledge, Lord Gardner is off doing some task for the Red King, and given how our father abused their resources we have to climb our way back to even with all of our bannermen before we can demand anything of them. Meera has counciled me to temporarily lower our taxes to give them room to recuperate, something I plan to act on. I also intent to return some of the excess taxed gold to our bannermen as a sign of good faith. Our father almost sold our standing army to the Starks in those last weeks, by the divine!"


When it came to the bastard, Anselm rubbed his eyes, speaking up afterwards. "If we weren't in such dire strates, I would argue that our sister have the right to pursue who she pleases- but this is not that situation. I dispise what we're having to do, even manage her marriage prospects, it seems. She isn't some fragile southern woman- she should be able to handle herself. But if we tell her the Dorne is forbidden, she may chase him. And if we tell the Dorne she is forbidden, it may cause some unrest. Don't act as if I haven't noticed the way they act around another- just because you two are the most attuned with one another doesn't mean that, I don't know a good chunk of your quirks. In the end, the primary worry with the Dorne is yours. You speak to him of it, and I will speak to Meera. Does that sound well to you?"


"You need Meera here to help with more vital taskes. Me? I can handle negotiations. I learned much the same as you, brother. I would ask that you don't forget that. As for the bastard, we make it very clear to him. Hands off Meera, or he finds a new house to take him in." He said calmly, wondering why the push for Meera to come with him. Granted, he would not complain much, no doubt Meera would have useful insight on the whole situation. Either way, he decided it best to await whatever response Anselm fast.


"I know, little brother- but we can't have one day without humor, can we? Regardless, I would prefer you speak with Lord Gardner first- from what I understand he will be home within a week. After that, reaffirm with House Faerson before attempting to speak to Lord Lockguard. That old man's played his game longer than we've been alive and is tough to persuade. At least, according to our father when he was sane. I haven't seen him in some time, so my memories of him are a bit faded. Either way, the fact that House Hornwood sends a representative is one we use to our advantage. I do believe it's his son- the one aspiring to be a knight. Tell him stories, gain his interest- use that tomorrow night to win him over. If any of the Trevelyans are coming yet, I do not know. We may share a border with them, but we do little with them- two peaceful neighbors are we, no? Other than that, I best pull out a small gift, since I do owe the new Lady Trevelyan an installment gift. As for the Red King's son? I just hope it's not his secondborn. I swear, he's the only commander I've seen get drunk during a battle." Anselm sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "But that may be able to wait until our meeting in my study later, given it's just you, me, Meera, and Baylon. But I digress. Is there anything else you'd like to discuss before then? Like the way you've been eying Lady Laina, perhaps?"


"I'll set out the day after our guests leave, then. Please do not foget the letter saying that deals I make have your authority, else I worry about how seriously the other houses might take the whole situation." He said with a slight nod, and a light smile. This was good, Alexander was fairly confident in his abilities to bring the bannermen back in line. "Perhaps we shouldn't see if the Trevelayns might be open to a more friendly relationship, brother? As for Lady Laina, there is nothing to worry about. While she is a very pretty girl, I have no intentions on doing anything that might hurt all of us." He said firmly, wondering why everybody seemed to think he would suddenly go chasing the girl. He had a duty to his family first, one which could involve a marriage for political benefit, and as such he couldn't afford to chase others. He also wouldn't risk what little reputation the name Marric still had.


"Don't blind yourself to all possibilities. If you married within the bannermen it would strengthen our internal relations, which- for the moment and in general- are more important to maintain than anything else. And yes, yes, I'll give you a letter of mark that proves you have my negotiations. I'd also suggest you take the Baylon with you, as well as maybe three others. You know as well as I do that with the oncoming winter that bandits and rogue mercanaries are going to be all the more aggressive. As for the Trevelyans, I hear that their new lady is very... isolationist, I think the term would be. If it is possible in any capacity to meet with her, I intend to do it myself." The elder brother sighed, popping his neck for a moment before looking once more at his little brother.


"With due respect brother, isn't a Master-at-arms better suited to stay at Frosthold? I am still quite close with a few of the Whiteblades, I'll bring them with me. Nobody I would trust more in a fight than those lot. Not to mention, I've got friends from my time in the houses, it might do well to have men they know and are friendly with." He explained, before nodding at the part about the Trevelayns. "I would like to request to join you, if you do go meet with her. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't curious about our neighbors." He said followed by a slight laugh, it was an irrelevant reason to wish to tag along in the scheme of things, but Alexander figured harmless enough. "If you truly do wish to assign somebody to go with me, brother, I'll take Meera. Likely she will have a bit more pull than others around here. Though I do believe you need your best here, to make sure we push through this whole... mess." Alexander stated, for a moment his doubt about the whole situation showing before he went back to a neutral expression.


"I could argue the same thing when it comes to my castellan going to my bannermen. Other than that, we'll discuss this later on, after this banquest is well and done. Meera still has this banquet to run and- while she is certainly capable- I don't want her to have too much on her plate for the time being. As for the Trevelyans, I certainly wouldn't mind you tagging along should things allow for it. Everything else aside, this is something that we'll need to charge through while also paying close detail to, perhaps like a sheperd at night." Anselm soon rubbed his neck, yawning for a moment before looking with his own neutral expression. "Is there anything else you want to talk about?"


"I will be fine on my own, brother. I'll take some men I trust to travel with, and hopefully not end up dead. Let me do this, I promise you will not regret it." He said firmly, then shook his head. "That is all, brother. I'll go join Meera, no doubt she could use some help welcoming the guests once they all arrive." He said with a nod.


"It sounds good to me, Alex. Otherwise, let them know I wish them welcome. Aside from that, we best keep on our way with our business and restoring the honor of our house. If there's nothing else you want to talk about, feel free to head on out so I can talk with Laina when she arrives." The northman smiled, half-tempted to chuckle as he enjoyed speaking with his sibling.


"Farewell, brother." Alexander said, before turning on a heel and heading out of the room. It looked like things might start working in their favor if they were lucky. Unfortunately for Alexander, he doubted that would happen. Either way, he certainly had his work cut out for him in the coming days. With a light sigh, the Marric made his way through Frosthold, hoping to find his twin soon enough.[/hr][/fieldbox]
 
[fieldbox=Only the Wind Knows All || Meera Marric, violet]

-Frosthold-

Once inside the comfort of her room, Meera hung her brother's cloak up upon a hook before turning to her own fur pelt. A gift from a banner men house when she was young. She looked over to Liana as she entered and sat down on her bed, letting her dress drag across the floor. She cocked her head slightly at the girl and let out a soft laugh. "Liana, you don't have to be so formal you know. It's just us. Besides, I'd prefer you just call me Meera" She said with a soft smile to the girl. Watching from the corner of her eye as the large tan and brown wolf stretched on the large mat bed and sauntered casually over to her mistress. "In fact I consider you my equal, not my handmaiden" She said as she ran her fingers along Valeria's fur as the dog settled at her feet. She took in the stature of the girl whom she had become quite accustomed to having around the Frosthold, she wondered what the future held for Liana Faerson, for only time would tell.

Meera's attention was suddenly snatched from Liana as Valeria's ears perked to attention at the sound of a bellowing horn. The horn signaling the arrival of a person or persons of interest.
"Oh.. ?" Meera's neck turned slightly to the window as she got up to see what was happening. "I suppose this means someone is approaching the gates" A slight sigh escaping her plump lips as she dusted herself off. "I believe your siblings are coming today Liana, I can only imagine you're excited to see them" She said politely with a small smile. "I do hope if you are to leave us, that you remember the kindness of the Frosthold.. and visit often" She said with a sly undertone. She knew Liana was a smart girl and she figured she would be leaving the Frosthold when her family came to collect her.

"Come Valeria, let's go give our guests a proper welcome" She said, gesturing for the dog to follow her. Turning from the window to stroll across the room and towards the exit door. "I do believe the Lord Marric wished to speak with you, since I have no need for anything at this moment why don't you go see what he could want. I'll come find you later Liana" Meera said with a gentle hand on the girls shoulder and a parting smile.

With a causal stroll through the castle, it wasn't long until Meera ran right into yet another of her handmaidens, this time Ida. One of Meera's personal handmaidens and to be quiet honest, one of her dear friends.
"Oh Ida!" Meera said quiet chipper for the time in the morning. "Hello, what are you up to on this fine today" She said with a bright smile. "Could I ask you to do me a favor? I'm currently on my way to welcome our guests, would you please accompany me. I'll need someone to show the guests to their rooms after we welcome them properly." She said with a smile. Valeria gave a soft whine in annoyance at her mistress. "Hush now Valeria, maybe Ida will snag you a spare bone from the kitchen later." Meera said with a pat to her dogs head. Suddenly another loud blast of the horn blew through the castle, almost as if it were calling to Meera. "We should be going. Come along now" she called out to both her wolf hound and her friend, quickening her pace to a less then lady like run.

As she passed through the Frosthold she saw Hel Sand, the dornish bastard that served as House Marric's personal sellspear, and her icy breath caught in the back of her throat. Causing her to cough softly before regaining her posture.
"Good morning Hel" She called out with a sheepishly smile. Praying to the old gods that the rising heat was hidden beneath the fur pelt she had wrapped around her. Valeria pushed her nose into the back of Meera's knee as a sign to keep moving, causing her lady to stumbled a bit before catching herself and scowling at Valeria. Giving Ida a casual sideways glance, she brushed off her fur pelt and continued onward.

As the two ladies walked Meera asked
"So how is your time at the Frosthold treating you Ida?" She asked her friend casually. Picking at a snowflake that had landed in her brunette locks. "I'm quite sure all the rooms have been cleaned and well tended to correct?" She asked, not really expecting an answer, but rather making a statement. Stopping suddenly in her tracks, Meera closed her eyes and felt the winds blow harshly through the Frosthold, sending her hair flying in every which way direction. "Ida I cannot stress how important these players are in our little game." Meera said letting her voice float softly in the wind. "I'd like to ask you a favor.. I want you to keep a close eye on our guests while they are here.. merely as a handmaiden of course.." the last part she stressed as to suggest that Ida keep an extra close eye on the guests. Ida was a valuable asset to Meera and she knew it. It was how Ida had weaseled her way to one of Meera's highest and most personal handmaidens.

After a quick stroll the lady of the winds had arrived at the gates of Frosthold, seeing in the distance a girl on a brilliant colored stallion, the girl had strong blonde locks that blew in the harsh winds, Meera's eyes narrowed to see better before she rolled her shoulder in an attempt to seem relaxed. It was then that she saw Alexander approaching.
"Ah hello brother, you're just in time to welcome some of our guests." Meera said calmly to her brother as she ordered Valeria to sit next to her feet. In the farther distance she could see the two figures of the Faerson siblings also apporaching. Giving a glance around to make sure everything was in order Meera gave the command. "Raise the gates, please"



Interaction:
Liana Faerson @Aliceee
Ida Torrington @Wolverbells
Her Sand @Juszen❤Sunshine™
Alexander Marric @Jason Targaryen

Mentioned:
Anselm Marric @AceSorcerer
Faerson Siblings @zane620 @Lesli
Aileen Gracewood @zucca_

[/fieldbox]
 
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