You first arrived in Ereworn about a week ago coming up through Cornumbria along the coastal trade road and then taking the Kings Road over the river and through the forest the locals of Ereworn called Gallows Wood.  You had heard dark tales of Ereworn growing up but the land itself seemed pleasant if a little wild and the people, though few, seemed friendly though short of stature and not as robust as those further south.

You passed through ruins of an ancient city noting ruins of the Selentine era and then came to the town of Ereworn, partially built upon and within those ruins.

You turned north from there and climbed into the Pagans themselves and soon came to Castle Ereworn a great square block of a keep with one rear tower taller than the others, it was protected by a great ravine across which arched a well-built span...a feat of engineering rare this far north from your knowledge.

The gate was guarded by two men, boys really, who waved you through with barely a glance.  Beyond the gate the entry turned left sharply up a dressed slope and then right at the top through a murder-hall and then into a wide square with a well at its centre and what seemed to be newly laid garden beds bordering all the inner walls.

Nobles and Knights only: On presenting your credentials and invitation you were waved inside and following the young servant within he was directed upstairs entering through great embossed bronze doors, noting as he did the repairs and works going on about the castle.

Others: You are seeking employment and a new start and had heard on the road that Ereworns new king was seeking household members...deciding to chance things you asked to speak to the majordomo and to your great surprise were directed upstairs entering through great embossed bronze doors, noting as you did the repairs and works going on about the castle.

Within the room was mostly empty apart from a simple wooden stool on which sat a man about his own age wearing a simple crown. On two similar stools about a small table laid with bread and cheese sat two other figures; an enormous man dressed in simple dark woolen robes and a great black boarskin with a brutal scar across his brod shaved head, the other a slim younger man with a large winestain birthmark across one side of his face.

Two battered shields mounted on stands stood outside an embossed bronze door leading into the northeast tower. Newly woven tapestries deck the walls, interspaced with the glass filled windows .

The tapestry on the west wall seems far older than the rest.  It  depicts a figure in a white robe, performing some sort of ritual before a huge crystal.

A gigantic stained glass window depicting a sword and a river comprises the east wall.
Beneath the window is a raised plinth. An ugly gouge in the centre of the plinth suggests that something once stood here, but has long since been removed.

The huge man stares at you for a brief moment then seemingly satisfied nods to the man you presume is King Corbin.

Corbin smiles, " And how can I be of assistance to you this day?"

Barlow bowed low and long to the King or Ereworn, " Barlow Greencap at your pleasure. Your Majesty, I heard news on the road that ye were looking for folk to act as yer eyes and ears and I've two of the best of each."

A dazzlingly handsome man in his late twenties/early thirties with shining green eyes and tousled black hair. He is dressed in a pristine cotton tunic and dark woolen trousers, he leaned on a wooden staff fixed on top with a shining silver dirk.

Drummond inclined his head to the King, measuring up the huge man beside the king,

" Drummond Gilrow, Your Majesty.  Former Sheriff of Tilsbrook and Reeve of Barmoran.  I am here to serve as you see fit."


" Though I'm not known for my love of letters..."
This message was last edited by the player at 11:49, Thu 03 Oct 2019.

Mammon swept into the room, her long turquoise gown covered by a sable fur-trimmed travel cloak, her long dark hair tumbled over her shoulders and shaded the side of her face above warm amber eyes. A large sable cat sat across her shoulders, watching the others with interest.


She gave a deep curtsey to the king and his retinue, " Mammon o' Greybridge, Your Majesty."

" I received a..message..to come here and offer my assistance to you in Ereworns ascension, I am learned in law and other more esoteric things."

" I offer my services, for your needs."

Turren bowed, mail coif lowering over shoulder plates that captured coloured spirits off the room's stained glass.

'Sir Turren of Uvedale, Your Majesty,' the accent came polished as the armour. 'My arms and word are at your service.'

Turren's head rose to reveal a strikingly handsome, clean-shaven face. The man was neither tall, short nor slight, but lean and sure-footed - moving with economy afforded to one who spends nights under the stars armed and armoured. Turren wore a deep green tabard over his breastplate, featuring a white falcon. Despite his apparent efforts to keep the garment clean, one couldn't help but notice the weathering, and some faded old rust-red stains on the falcon's open wings.
This message was last edited by the GM at 11:49, Thu 03 Oct 2019.

The hulking scarred man in the boarskin looked each of them over in turn he smiled tightly at Barlow and Turren but his face was a dubious frown as he looked over the other two.

He turned towards Corbin and the King looked up at him, then after a moment gave a chuckle.

" Then we shall see, Diarmuid."

The younger robed man with the winestain birthmark, looked them over impassively; flashed Mammon a quizzical look but said nothing.

Corbin chuckled again, " We'll it seems you are acceptable...mostly...to my advisors."

He waved his hand across to the other side of the hall, where there sat a table with a great cask of wine upon it and a selection of breads, cheese and fruits. To some of the groups eyes it was relatively sparse fare but fresh nonetheless.

" Eat, drink...there is another on the path to Castle Ereworn currently we'll see them before we speak further."

"Get to know each other, you may be spending quite some time together."

'Thank you for your generosity, Your Majesty,' Turren bowed again.

He had a care to introduce himself to those others gathered, quick to smile and offer a hand to be shaken or taken where permitted. He also  pointedly stood aside for the others, gesturing to help themselves first to the table of food, eager to play the humble gentleman.
This message was last edited by the player at 12:29, Thu 03 Oct 2019.

Barlow approached Sir Turren with an appraising look, " And how does the day find you, Sir Turren?", he queried as he brushed a little road dirt from Sir Turrens tabard.

Mammon watched Barlows approach with an amused smirk as she nibbled on some fruit feeding some cheese to her cat.

Drummond demolished a loaf of bread and slipped a few apples into his pouch as he watched the room carefully.

Barlow noticed at a glance that Turren was armed with a sword at his belt, a dagger on the other side. A shield embossed with a white falcon and a single well-crafted javelin hung over a shoulder with his pack. A fine quiver with six green-feathered arrows was strapped there also.

'Oh, well enough after Gallow's Wood I suppose,' Turren chuckled.

Reaching into his belt purse he produced two florins and placed them firmly in Barlow's fussing hand. 'I thank you for your trouble, most kind of you.'

He made to speak further, then hesitated before raising a dark brow and appraising Barlow more closely. It was obvious that Barlow's martial adornments were of particular interest all of a sudden.

Compared to Turrens arsenal, Barlows was sparse indeed; a single polished stave crested with a simple dirk-like blade. His clothing was a reinforced quilted doublet in emerald green and a split-backed long travelling coat in dark brown leather trimmed with sable mink.

Barlow smirked a little as Turren pressed the money into his hand but did not refuse it, but rather danced the two coins along his fingers for a moment before spinning them in the air where they seemingly vanished into thin air.

" Yes, Gallows Wood. I came through there with Drummond, I think his musk scared off most of the dangerous beasts."

Mammon watched the two handsome men....interacting....with a half smile and turned towards Drummond.

" A lofty position, Reeve. Is there some scandalous reason why you no longer hold it?"

In reply to Barlow Greencap (msg # 12):

Turren's eyes lit up almost child-like as the coins vanished. He then made to grin at Barlow's comment about the former sheriff and reeve, but quickly flushed, catching himself and glancing in Drummond's direction apologetically.

Turren scooped up a peach off the table and fought to regain composure, taking a bite.



Mammon's words saw poor Turren nearly spit his peach. Clearing his throat and swallowing hard, he focused pointedly on the one-time Reeve.
This message was last edited by the player at 11:44, Fri 04 Oct 2019.

Drummond glowered at both Barlow and Mammon.

" Was more likely your constant prattling that scared off the beasts, Greencap.", he said wryly.

He settled his gaze on Mammon, " Something of the sort, though more in the vein of uncovering a scandal than being involved in one. Ones Lord is often times best not knowing what his daughters are up to, and shooting the messenger was the option taken."

He walked closer to Turren, " You've seen battle, a fair bit I'd wager...though you've been lucky about the face."

" Were ye away in Outremer, or closer to home?"