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The days leading up to Lord Barric Azaryen's uncharacteristic 45th nameday celebrations have been harried to say the least. Greystone Keep itself has been a whirlwind of party planning, and only just now have the invitation responses been received. From the looks of things, it will be a gathering not only of old friends, but enemies as well.
In the hamlet of Headwater, just down the road from the keep itself, the townsfolk have been busy as well. Having announced a full tourney to take place, fields have been cleared for a jousting arena, as well as an archery range. The spirits of his people ride high at the moment, and it feels like a grand day is approaching.
You have been left free until the evening meal, when all the guests should have arrived. Your maid fusses continually over you, worrying that the 6 hours left won't be enough, but surely that will be time enough to do something more nerve-calming before you have to be trussed up for your father, right?
For now at least, things are well in hand, and you seem to have a bit of free time until the evening. Perhaps you could find a game of dice in Headwater? Or maybe track down that Braavosi the Lord seems so fond of and have a game of cards with the slick fingered man?
At the moment, Selyrio Brassa, master trader, is stuffing himself full of chicken and wine at the inn, and stuffing his pockets with pennies and stags from gambling while he eats. He is rather less than fit to pay his visit to the castle quartermaster as he usually does upon his return trips here. Perhaps it would be best if you went in his stead? Not that you have to rush. You have a few hours to yourself for once. Why spend them all doing his bidding?
Once you finish with the hounds, Aaron simply waves you off. Apparently, he'll be handling the planning of the hunt for now. You're sure that he'll ask for your help tomorrow, when the hunt is actually scheduled. Of course, that also means that you spend the next few hours with the beaters and bowmen drilling them not only on hunting etiquette but on proper technique. When noon finally arrives, you're quite sure that at least they won't embarrass you or Aaron tomorrow. Whether they'll be useful is something else entirely.
Just when you think that you'll have some time to yourself, Aaron hands off a note to you with an apologetic look. A quick read reveals it to be from the castle kitchen master, requesting more boar meat for the meal tonight. And not just a bit, no, he wants a full 3 hog's worth!
You have plenty of time, but it might be nice to have help. Maybe this is a good chance to let some of the others be tested instead?
Eyes bright & liquid from the implied chastisement, Beatriz curtsies to the best of her ability. Directing Isoude, her lady's maid, to claim the dress from Lord Azaryen's valet; Beatriz & Isoude then return to Beatriz' chambers. Once there the process of disrobing, bathing, dressing & lightly but properly applying cosmetic begins once again.
Prepared once more, Beatriz makes herself available within the council chambers, seated next to a window with good light, where she attempts, fumblingly, to exert her needlecraft while observing the household in preparation for her father's nameday celebration.
"Isoude, who is Sergeant of the Watch this afternoon?"
Looking up from the note, Rhys scowled then shrugged off his momentary displeasure. With a nod to Aaron, he set of to the kitchen to fetch some of the other hunters.
"Johan, Tyryn, Simm get your horses ready. " Ryhs bellowed from the door, the men in question bolting up from where the were eating some meat pie. "Prepare your kit for boars! And gather" Grinning at the groans of dismay from the men, Rhys turns and walks briskly to the kennels to see which bay dogs will accompany the hunt.
As he walks across the courtyard, he ponders Hmmm, I saw some boar spoor over in the Middlefield copse. We'll try there first.
Maester Korran, surname unnecessary, descended a flight of stairs in a rush of black robes and a mood to challenge some poor fool's notions of superiority. The fat Braavosi trader should do the job. He was going to Headwater anyway to get out from under the cloud of plans, plans, and more incessant questions.
One breeze through the gates later and a walk down the road brought him to the small place the rest of the folk around here called home, and to the local inn, the name of which he never could remember. More importantly, it brought him to Selyrio Brass a, or whatever his name was. Why were Braavosi names so...fluid?
"Master Brassa, this day finds you well I see! Care to polish your mood further with some cards?"
The honorific was more than he really deserved, but never let it be said that Maester Korran of the Citadel couldn't be polite...when necessary. Or desired. Or drunk.
Errin spends his free time prepping for the visit in his "Master"'s Stead. And thinking on how this tourney and such offers both the chance for an assassin to slay the Lord and at the same time the chance to mend old wounds. After he finishes getting dressed in his finest clothing, in the House's Colours perfectly no less, he makes his way to find Beatriz to give her the Longsword he obtained for her. One of Tobho Mott's Finest works though his Apprentice is a little odd to say the least. As he moves his midnight cloak, held with a unique pin that is distinctly a dragon and a gift from his Targaryen related mother, seems to billow even without his movements resulting in him appearing slightly inhuman his sabre and dagger, both with a unique hilt in the shape of dragons, accent this with the way they rest on his belt.
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Her countenance darkens slightly as you ask about the watch sergeant, but she answers dutifully anyway. "My lady might remember that I have scarcely been able to leave you alone since this dawn when your Lord Father gave you his commands of the day. Truthfully, I could not say for sure." She softens slightly as she notices your state. "If I had to wager though, child, I would think Ser Donnel is at his post as always today. Are you thinking of seeing him, hmm?"
Current thoughts are interrupted by the entrance of Errin Shadowater, the protege of Selyrio Brassa, your Lord Father's best kept merchant. He appears to be bearing something gift-like with him.
Being the good men they are, the step to the task as you leave. Coming back to the hounds, Aaron approaches you. "Mind you don't get all three coming to you at once, heh? Otherwise you'll end up like your da, drink notwithstanding. As for the dogs, I know you've got your favorites, but old Mank can still take a boar on by himself when he's in the right mind. Talk to him, see if he's up for it, heh? Can't be good to leave him here hunt after hunt. He'll die from uselessness." With that, he goes back to organizing saddle markers and beating sticks.
The dogs can tell something is up. They eagerly crowd the kennel gate, all except old Mank in the back.
The inn, by name of Hearth on the Pond, is currently being cleaned up to look more presentable. While you aren't sure that it will actually do anything, it is a nice gesture. The visiting lords themselves will certainly be staying at the castle proper, but many of their knights will likely be staying here, and it can't hurt to try and impress big men with large weapons.
Master Brassa is already well on his way to being piss drunk by the time you arrive, and eagerly greets you with fumbling hands. "Ho, Mister-" He hiccoughs rather loudly. "Sorry, I mean Maester Korran! Well met on this grand day! Did you know that the innkeep has several bottles of prime cherry cordial stored away here? I was never told! I have in fact already enjoyed several glasses, and I can say it is excellent! Care for some?" He picks up the bottle and glass next to him with great care, as though pickled already.
You aren't sure how much the rest of his manner is an act, but you know from past experience that his wavering hands are certainly a lie. The man could probably palm a coin while dead drunk and still pull it from some farm boy's ear.
As you enter the yard, the Maester of the House breezes by you with apparent haste, gone before a word can be said. At least now your master will have deserving company in his games. Off the the east end of the yard you hear the barking of dogs, certainly from the kennels. It appears that someone is going hunting today, as they all seem very excited. The three men readying four horses on the west end of the yard seem rather less excited than the dogs to be going anywhere. Perhaps they are hunting something dangerous?
The guards allow you entrance to the keep itself with nary a wayward glance. Once inside, a passing maid directs you to the Lord's council chambers as the current whereabouts of the Lady Beatriz. An odd place for a Lady to be staying, but this young heir is far from the fancily dressed traditional young woman of Westeros. She has a bit of fire in her.
It doesn't take long to wind your way through the great hall and into the council chambers. Sitting by the window is Lady Beatriz Azaryen, bearing all the hallmarks of a true Targaryen. With her is Isoude, her lady in waiting.
Holding up the package he is carrying he speaks while bowing to her."A Gift for Mi'Lady."Seeing her with her needlework he chuckles and speaks."Seems I should have gotten you a needle like mine eh?"He then pats his Sabre.
Longsword with the ladies favoured gem and Flowers forming the Hilt Motif & a Dragon Relief on the Blade. I will leave the specifics up to Beatriz and the GM.
Korran put on his third most ingratiating smile, the second and first being reserved for lords and ladies of far greater status than this foreigner. He nodded enough to be amiable, and sat down. "Cherry cordial you say? Well, I suppose I can afford one good dose! Any more and I shan't be able to keep my wits, and our good Lord Azaryen should be rather unhappy at that!"
He called for his own glass, pulling out his trusty block of cheese and offered some to the merchant before slicing some for himself whether or not Brassa accepted. It wasn't quite the perfect pairing with the cordial, but one just couldn't turn down good cheese and good alcohol together.
"You are certainly in the right, this is wonderful. I should come here more often if my duties allowed it. Well then. Cards? Dice? What strikes your fancy today?"
Beatriz seems to studiously ignore Isoud's comments regarding her skill with a needle & wifely duties to instead rebut the implied criticism of her own inquiry. "As chatelaine of the household it is my duty to, among other matters, be informed when our guests arrive so that they may be properly made welcome according to their station." Beatriz frowns at Isoud, "Given the great deal of effort you & Maester Korran have exerted in reminding me of my duties as a , I would have thought you would not need reminding I am only able to fulfill my duties when I know who else is performing theirs."
As Tradesman Shadowater approaches, Beatriz nods in his direction. "Case in point, was I made aware beforehand that either Selyrio Brassa Tradesman Shadowater had arrived? No I was not. Please relay to Ser Donnel that I can hardly perform my duties blind any better than he would under similar circumstances." Looking about the chamber to confirm sufficient household presence that any conversation betwixt her & Tradesman Shadowater could not be construed as private, Beatriz arched her brows meaningfully. "Now, if you please, Isoud. The sooner done, the sooner done, yes?"
In response to Erin's greeting, obeisance & gift; Beatriz' features soften, more as they might for a distant but still amicable relative than for a close friend. "I would ne'er deign compare my handiwork to Braavosi Steel, even as...
delicate,
an implement as you grace this with today Goodman Shadowater," her nod indicating the blade at Erin's hip rather than the gift in his hands. "I'm certain Father will be quite pleased with such a fine gift for his...
Heir,
Samuel Waters." Beatriz' rather indelicate closure to her statement an unconscious indicator of her own discomfort.
Errin grins. Then speaks without denoting any of his true feelings."Well, Mi'Lady, it is better to have plenty of blades loyal to the House's True Heir at the court as possible during these times. Is it not? Especially since there seems to be some distress in King's Landing."Stopping for a moment he then speaks in a similar tone but it betrays a slight tinge of venom in some words."Besides my Master is the one who got the Heir plenty of gifts for all of his Servants to present to him. Gifts he feels are fitting for the future lord."Then smiling he bows, lays the blade at her feet, then turns to leave but stops short of the door he looks back around and speaks."With that blade I expect to see waters stirred for the future of House Azaryen."He then walks out and moves to head off to oversee some minor business.
Dismissing Aaron's words the moment he hears them, Rhys steps up to the kennel "Get down ya mangy lot!" he cries in mock severity, seeing the hounds in high spirits gladdens his heart. Seeing ol'man Mank in the back feeling sorry for hi'self, Rhys called out to the other handlers to transfer the dogs to the outside kennels in preparation for the hunt.
Watching the chaos of a dozen hounds herded from one kennel to another, a rare smile touched Rhys' lips. Ah, to have so simple a life! With a sigh, he turned his gaze upon old Mank.
"Righto, Mank. Yer liege requests your services on the hunt. Ya mightn't have many more opportunities like this, ya old coot. " Rhys says as he approaches the hound. Confident and exuding superiority, he comes to stand before the seasoned hunter.
Fixing his eyes upon those of the old dog, Rhys feels a connection with the dog. "Come boy, lets run the fields and forest again."
If Animal Handling
Active
Passive
12
If Animal Handling, Charm
Active
Passive
13
Beatriz' features firm at the perceived slight to her Father but then her eyes widen slightly at mention of King's Landing. Swallowing her trepidation as she whispers to Erin's back. "Oh, I'm sure you will. They do stir..."
As he leaves he stop to tell the guards that they might want to warn Ser Donnel to keep Lady Azaryen in the loop of things or he might find himself on her wrong side. He then moves onward to find "Master" Brassa and make sure he is ready to meet the Lord. When he doesn't find him easily he gives up and goes to get his "Gift" he was told to give for the Lord's Heir alongside the Dirk for the Lord Himself. Upon finding them he mutters to himself."There you are. You beautiful blade you."The Dirk is fairly simple. Its gold plated hilt inlaid with jade and its argent blade inlaid with the House Words in purpure writing. Its sheath made of ermines dyed leather attached to a reversible belt of blue & red dyed leather. He then heads to the main hall to greet guests and present the Dirk to the Lord before the ceremony begins.
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He obviously knows what he's doing, as he simply wanders out from the kennel and starts off to the staging grounds for the hunt. He turns back once, simply staring at you with deep eyes as he waits for you.
As you arrive back at the castle, gifts ready at hand, you note that banners have been hung outside the gates. The last time such colorful things flew here was the birth of Lady Beatriz.
The great hall is currently lacking a Lord Azaryen, but the few guests in attendance this early appear to be enjoying themselves despite that fact. Fruit and wine sits out, and you can spy the servants sneaking more than a few bits from both.
Her rant stops as Ser Donnel bursts into the room. He is obviously not happy, but seeing you dressed as a lady for once, he draws up short. He appears rather unsure as to how to proceed for a moment, before choosing the more appropriate path for now. With a stiff bow in your direction, he addresses you formally. "I was told my Lady wished my presence, that I might inform her of matters of stewardship?" The snide tone in which he says the last bit makes it obvious that he isn't very pleased. With what, you aren't sure.
Times such as these conspire to convince me a 'proper lady's' life might be for me after all. Then I might confine myself to my chambers & claim to be suffering from the vapours...
"I must compliment you on your perspicacity Ser Donnel. I had yet to even send Isoud to request that I be informed when our guests arrived, that I might greet them appropriately, yet here you are." Matching him level gaze for gaze, "Of course, perhaps there is another reason for your seemingly fortuitous arrival?"
The last time I played this man was so far from drunk he ran right back around into sober...
"Trumpets I think. We've played Towers so often I think we're starting to play like each other and not ourselves!"
That and it'll distract me from your smell.
Errin smiles and chuckles seeing the servants sneaking their treats. He then thinks to himself:"Really now, who is it that deserves the finer things in life. The ones lucky enough to be born into the Nobility. Or the ones who work their lives away. Heck, where do I fall into that scheme..." He then seeks the nearest Herald* he can find."I would like to request a private audience with the Lord on behalf of Trade-Master Brassa. Also please see to it that this package gets put with the Lord Samuel's Gifts."He then holds up the small Package Brassa gave him to the herald. When the Herald gets the package settled Errin move to stand aside and out of the way then mutters to himself."Wonder if Ser Donnel has appeased Lady Azaryen yet. Though so far everything is going according to plan as of yet. Hopefully it continues this way."
His heart welling with pride, Rhys watches the old veteran make his way outside. As the hound stops to look back, Rhys says "Coming, old man" and walks out to the courtyard with the dog.
Emerging into the grey day, Rhys is greeted with a buzzing hubub as people rush to and fro attending to the necessary errands that the celebration entails.
Walking with old Mank over to the south gatehouse, he finds his hunters surrounded by excited hounds and a few of the castle's children , frolicing with the dogs.
When Mank comes close the other dogs immediately cease their play and sit or lay down, tongues lolling.
"Johan, Tyryn fetch our horses, Simm tie these idiots up" Rhys says indicating the dogs "Mank'll keep them in line out in the woods, but the goodwives out there don't take kindly to a loose pack of hounds messing up thier gardens!"
Rhys then steps up and begins inspecting the spears and rope that the others had collected for this hunt.
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You are certain, judging mostly by smell, that he is in fact intoxicated. Whether this will actually affect his card playing remains to be seen. He swiftly deals out a game of Trumpets, and settles into playing with a grin. It appears that he is enjoying himself.
Your hand is passable, but not quite what one might call good. Thankfully, chance is a large part of this game. It takes luck and speed to match up cards in Trumpets, and you have the edge on this sot today.
He flips the first cards, and it begins.
The herald nods to you as you approach. As you voice your request he starts shaking his head. "The Lord Azaryen has requested that he not be disturbed until later this evening. I believe the Lord Samuel is with him as well. I will pass along your desires, however. Should the Lord deign to speak with you, I will send someone to inform you at once sir." He accepts the package with aplomb, and goes to set it with the appropriate gifts.
This strange unavailability is rather unlike Lord Azaryen during public moments. And to blockade himself in his study with his heir? Odd for him.
Your musings are interrupted by a bit of overheard gossip. A maid is speaking with another of the house staff in argumentative tones: "I am sure of what Wibley told me! He saw three men skulking about the mine today when the guard changed shifts out there. They weren't familiar to him, and I would think that would mean something to you. Maybe that doxy you keep seeing has given you cloudy eyes, hmm?"
As you travel, Johan asks you "So Rhys, they really want 3 boars for the evening? Do they think it just pops out of the ground or something? I mean, come on. Mank is good, but he's old! Unless the Seven are staring straight at us today, we'll be lucky to get one without losing someone, or any of the dogs. I'd be surprised if we could bag two without blood, but three?! Not on your life."
You get the sense that Ser Donnel isn't directing his anger in any one direction, but is rather frustrated by many things. "My Lady, one of my guards informed me of your mood. I believe he said that the Shadowater boy had urged him to see me. I came with haste, as is expected of me. I do my duty, so why can-" He stops himself with a tight jaw. After a moment, it relaxes. "Forgive me, milady. Your Lord Father's choice of guests has me very concerned with the security of the keep. Many of these men tried to kill him during the war, and I don't think he made friends out of very many of them. Despite his assurances to the contrary, I fully expect at least one of them to try something during this celebration. Does this satisfy you?"
Lips pressed together to avoid responding to Ser Donnel's description of Goodman Shadowwater, Beatriz does reply to his query. "Almost completely, Ser Donnel, thank you. I will find myself completely satisfied when all my questions are answered. Are any of the other guests yet arrived? Which guests concern you the most?"
Errin nods to the Herald and is troubled by the Lord's strange spiriting away. Upon hearing the gossip he turns to the Maid and speaks gently to her. He makes it seem like he is simply interested in hearing more of the gossip though his concern for this news leaks through."I'm sorry I didn't mean to Eavesdrop but can you tell me what these men looked like? Or get me the one who seen them. As well as has this been reported to the Guards."
Korran's hands and eyes move as fast as he can manage to make them, but he's not quite on top of his game as he'd like to be. He'd have to hope that his opponent's drunkenness will pull him down enough that Korran can make it out anyway. Trumpets was much more difficult to cheat at than most card games.
Sitting lightly in his saddle, Rhys smiles at Johan's caution "Ah, but the Seven do look upon us... for we hunt for our Lord for a great celebration, surely a blessed occasion ! " He then guffaws at Johan's scandalized expressions at Rhys' seeming impeity. "At ease, my friend, I speak in jest. " His expression growing serious, he says "This is a mightly task laid upon us today. 2 boars would be a feat, but 3 ! " Looking around to the men he had chosen "I chose you all for this task because you are the best at what we do, I can trust each of you to do what is right and protect yourselves and each other."
"As for Mank, he'll take care of hi'self."
He rides silently for a time, until the edge of Middlefield Copse rose before the band. "Look lively, lads. Eyes all around"
Having arrived where the report of boar tracks had been sighted, Rhys hops down from his mount, hands the reigns to Johan and walks forward, eyes on the ground.
Tracking