The riders have circled the cliff and now ride up the shoreline to intercept the keel boats as they land and unload the supplies. The gray clouds are rolling in faster and the storm will be coming, Lord Kolwyn quickly gathers his family and orders his guards to prepare to intercept these soldiers coming from the shoreline. The soldiers, men at arms, mercenaries whomever they may be are weather warm and seem to have been traveling a great distance. A few seem to be dressed in the Dornish fashion.

One of the men rides in hard, while the other hold back and fan out as if protecting the shoreline, he quickly dismounts and walks directly to the Lord. Kolwyns men ready themselves. The unknown solider takes a knee. "M'Lord' I am Wilfred, of House Kaldor, Lord Reinard has sent me too you with an important message" As he pulls it out of his side pouch, "It is to be delivered to your hands, .... only M'Lord"




This message was last edited by the GM at 19:03, Mon 13 Oct 2014.

He reads the letter, once done he looks at the messenger. "What are your orders now that you have delivered the message?"

Wilfred stands "I'm to ride out and find M'Lord Mardax we have heard rumors that he has taken off the main roads perhaps still in the lands held by House Steiner." .... "With your leave M'lord I will head out."

Lord Perros nods his head and the young solider mounts and calls the other swords to head out.

Lord Perros hands the letter off to Ser Hassan Ravenhowe "I think you and your knights will find this letter as interesting as I have."

"Cyra Vyraes do you have family at home we should worry about? I feel your father and our family members maybe a target of some new enemies that have been shaken from their hiding places." 

Cyra kept her eyes trained on the raven knights and the approaching soldiers on the boat ride to shore, the storm brewing at her back. She had spoken with her crew in Myrish and ensured that she would land ashore at the same time as Lord Perros and his family. If there would be trouble Cyra wanted a hand in getting out of it. Once the boat hit the shore, she waited for Dio to give her a hand out, and despite her care the hem of her silken gown and cape were dipped in water, darkening the beautiful fabric.

She walked with proud shoulders towards Ashara, taking her hand in greeting. She smiled and said quietly, "Lovely sister. What news?" But is seemed as the question left her lips, Lord Perros and a man of less than lordly breeding approached each other. The other man took a knee and the two exchanged words. She looked between the knights and these other men. Sellswords she thought them, and worn sellswords at that. Some tension released in her shoulders.

There was a letter, the letter was passed off, the tension in Lord Perros's shoulders did not release, and this man spoke of many houses she wasn't intimately aware of. Steiner, Kaldor, and this Lord Mardax. Apparently these men were in search of Lord Mardax. Her expression remained even, her shoulders high, and her form-fitting dress blew about her ankles, wetting the skin beneath. Her usual playfulness seemed to float just below the surface.

When he addressed her directly she met his eyes and pondered the question for a moment. She shook her head slowly, a sober look on her face. "Enemy can try. They find my father is-" she paused as if searching for the right word, "Iron." She had never looked so sober.

"What does our new enemy desire?" Cyra said, a hint of her usual mischief seeped back into her mouth as she took a step or two forward towards Lord Perros, accompanied by the sound of gravel crunch beneath her shoes.

Fatimah was nervous, but when she saw the man delivering a message and the horsemen protecting the shore... well it was good on one hand because the knights where on their side, but on the other it spoke of far deeper issues. She does her best to read the letter when her father gets it, standing on her tip toes.
So a potential hostage situation?

Ashara had switched to a richly embroidered wool dress for traveling. She draws her cloak tightly around her against the wind. She curtsies to Cyra as she approaches, then takes her hand in greeting. She was glad to see her friend after they had been stuck on different ships. She smiles at Cyra when Cyra calls her lovely sister. "We had a rough time on the ship, but we arrived. Uncle Hassan seems very on edge, but I couldn't tell you right away what is going on." she tells Cyra quietly.

She whispers to Cyra, looking like girls trying to avoid being caught by the house Septa.

"We're targeted, father? Anything Gabriel should watch out for?" she asks her father softly. She was nervous about what might be wrong, but a dutiful daughter didn't meddle in her father's affairs uninvited. Her eyes go wide at Fatimah's words. "A hostage? Who?"
She nods to the messenger. "I thank you for your valuable service, good ser."

Bron was glad to be out of the heat of the south, and his furs where much more comfortable. He stood silent, and listened as Lord Perros spoke. He could not help but overhear Ashara whisper to Fatimah with his keen ears. A hostage? Who? He doubted it would be Ashara...but did not nobles do that to their own children for peace? He shuffled his feet nervously, and shook his head. Best to stay silent and keep listening...

Ser Hassan let out a heavy sigh, as he read the letter several times over. "Perros this does not bode well at all," he handed the letter over to Lady Aislin his wife, who had a surprised look upon her face before looking up at her husband. "The blood of House Kaldor runs thick in the veins of the Knights of Raven's Roost, it seems the lives of my cousins are in Jeopardy." Hassan looked back at Perros, "If this continues, this could spell War for Dorne, Perros you know this. Many Houses are still recovering from the Targaryen Invasion, with foreign aid this is becoming a significant threat."

Mardox maybe Fatimah says stressing the last word. He was traveling, and we haven't had recent contact. Nothing confirmed.

Talk of hostages and war... it was hardly reassuring. "May I see the letter, father?" Ashara asks demurely. She was trying to be the dutiful daughter, but she was terribly eager to know what the letter said.
"It sounds like this is a poor time for us to be away from Drone." she says, worried. She smiles at Fatimah. "Well, things might not be so bad, then. I'll pray for his saftey." She's grateful to Fatimah for reassuring her.

"Well I'm unsure where to begin to find Mardax, we will have to regroup with a local lord if we are to do anything about it. We are in a foreign land and we can not simply march about as we see fit, it's unsafe and quite rude," said Hassan as he handed the letter back to Perros.

"I wish Wilfred had told us more. We'll need to speak to the locals if we hope to find out anything. And I don't know how friendly Stormlanders will be." Ashara adds. "I don't understand why House Steiner would turn on us. They've been our friends for centuries."

Bron kept listening, however he had little to add. It sounded like they needed someone who was expert in the wisdom of the street-and that was not him. He...'gathered' his information by scaring the living hell out of people. Even then that wisdom was in doubt. Still-it was better than nothing. "I could find out from the locals, My lady. As I am not an official member of any house, people may be more loose of tongue with me."

Lord Perros seems all too serious as he starts to walk off the shore and bark orders.

"We don't have time for all this, Hassan get the families ready we leave as soon as we can, .... we have to meet House Ashfield and Neumann at Blackhaven so make this happen."

"NO! Bron you get these men ready and the supplies off the ship, after that prepare the caravan at the high point off that hill" as Lord Perros points the way, "there by the road so we can head out immediately"

"Ladies don't get lost in this shit hole of a village and take guards with you we leave in 3 hours or better"

In reply to Caladin (msg # 13):

Bron's seemed a little worried by his Lordship's reaction. "Yes, my lord! At once!" He quickly hurried himself to do as ordered. He headed off to gather the men to start loading the supplies and readying the caravan.

In reply to Ashara Kolwyn (msg # 11):

I'll come and guard you, but I question my ability to help with scrounging up rumors. Fatimah says as she heads over to Ashara But I'll still provide whatever help I can.
OOC: With my Knowledge of three that would translate into a +1 bonus, IIRC?

Cyra listened to the hubbub around her and took a few steps back to melt into the din. Though the difficult parts of the language escaped her the general feelings were there. Mardax could be a hostage, but no one really knows; all they know is that threats have been raised and gone unchallenged, threats near to the hearts of these people. Despite her clothes she felt a chill go up her spine at the wind of the coming storm.

She watched as Lord Perros snapped and spoke from fear like searing copper, and she looked at both Fatima and Ashara. Cyra allowed the men to run around them and she stepped forward to speak with the two quietly. "These house, no one takes noble hostage unless, unless other roads are closed and starved. Find why and more weapon we have," she said softly to both, "Do think this hamlet have lavak, ah, healer, herbalist?"

Ashara turns to thank Bron and ask him to find out but is preempted by her father. She is a bit taken aback by his vehemence. Instead, she tells Bron "I thank you for the offer. Good luck with your duties" and gives him an apologetic look.

"But I- Yes, my lord father. We'll take guards, and we’ll be careful. We’ll try not to travel far" Ashara says meekly to her father. She'd like to argue but she's rarely seen her father in such a temper, and doesn’t dare.
She smiles at Fatimah. “Thank you, dear coz. You’re a lifesaver. And I always appreciate any help you can offer.”
"I really want to know why. House Steiner has been our allies for five centuries. Their reasons must be very important for them to be willing to throw away such an ancient alliance“ she replies to Cyra. “But I can’t imagine what those reasons might be.”
"If we need healing, we'd be better off asking Maester Archibald. A place this small might have someone who knows herbs, but no real Maester" she says to Cyra.
She smiles at the Cyra and Fatimah. “I'm sure we'll solve this if we ladies stick together.”

The heavy dark clouds rolls in and the storm winds are becoming stronger. It begins to rain as the wagons are being put together and readied from the ship. Some of the horse are agitated and restless making the preparation more difficult. The waves are starting to crash on shore and the shoreline is slowing disappearing as they become covered with hi waves and the tide. The keel boats are getting tossed around and soon the ship will need to set sail or get tossed into the shore. The sailors are falling on the wet deck and struggling to get this ready to set sail. None fall over but the storm is pretty bad and the ship will need to sail through it as there is no time to circle around.

The storm had actually circled around from inland and at sea has picked up more force. This is way these parts are called the Stormlands.

As the Storm began to break against the Shore, Hassan called over the wind. "Regardless, now is not the time to discuss this! We need to get indoors before the storm hardens!" Hassan raised his hood as his cloak whipped and snapped in the wind, and mounted his own horse along with the rest of the knights of House Ravenhowe. "Fatimah, ride next to me, the horses will be particularly skittish with the possibility of thunder." Where others had trouble mounting and spurring their horses Hassan seemed to have little trouble at all, it greatly calmed down as soon as it found him in the saddle. "Shhh," he cooed to the horse as he patted it's neck.

Cyra nodded seriously and was about to speak until the wind whipped at her face and clothes, she looked up at the sky and at the sea, concern written on her deep complexion. "Stormlands," she said almost to herself, "Well named."

Turning back to Fatimah and Ashara, and Ser Hassan that requested Fatimah's presence. "You popular in storm times. Speaks more than words ever could of character," Cyra smiled, despite it all, at the pink-haired warrior. Then she continued to both her and Ashara about the hatchling plan in her mind, "Not healer for us. If some is wrong, a healer is first to see. They tend to hurts of heart and bone. If we make excuse to see here, a woman need seek out other than Maester, or sea-ill," her smile was now like a conspirator, "We talk, we get lay of land. It is long shot, though I think many long shot are worth while." With that she gave Ashara a knowing look, the look of a dear friend who knows of a secret lover but will play coy when the need arrises. "Mayhaps they tend a hooded lordling on run."

The wind ripped at her again, and she hoped her hunch that this hovel of a town could weather its fair share of storms was right. The other advantage was that her voice wouldn't travel far and there was less risk of being overheard. Her now storm-swept hair, swirling sea-foam silks, and bright eyes made her look like some wild thing.

In reply to Ser Hassan Ravenhowe (msg # 19):

Bron had set about unloading the ship, and he and the men where fighting against the weather to move with speed. When the Knight calls for everyone to get indoors, Bron shakes his head. "I CANNOT! HIS LORDSHIP WANTS US READY TO DEPART AT ONCE! WE NEED TO GET OUR SUPPLIES AND BE READY TO MOVE, MY LORD!" He shouts back to Ser Ravenhowe even as he moves and very heavy looking box against the wind and rain. He had made sure Sundancer was indoors however, as he did not want the bird being exposed to the weather.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:24, Sat 25 Oct 2014.

Yes Father Fatimah yells over the storm. Sorry Ashara, I'll be next to my Father if you need me. Fatimah turns and jumps on to a horse.

After several hours of heavy rain fall the rain begins to slow down but not stop. The caravan is now ready and with the rain allowing travel Lord Perros orders everyone to ready, and leave at once.

The caravan stays a few days on a narrow pass and muddy trail and finally over the horizon Blackhaven can be seen. The Storm God must be pissed because it has been raining on and off with gray clouds for the whole trip. The men are covered in mud the horses are extremely tired having to pull and trot thought the mud and the men are in need of so recreation.

“It’s all right, coz, I’ll see you when things are less chilly.” Ashara says to Fatimah
She smiles conspiratorially at Cyra. “Good plan. I like the way you think.”
Ashara is often shivering in the unaccustomed cold and rain on their journey. But she tries her best to keep up the spirits of those who are marching, often singing, and she tries to be as cheerful as possible. It’s helped by the company of Cyra and Fatimah.  She also tries to spend some time with her mother and father, although knowing her father is busy she tries to avoid being a pest.
Although shivering in the wind and rain, Ashara keeps her cheerful face.“Blackhaven! I’m looking forward to seeing what it’s like” she says on catching sight of Blackhaven, trying to not sound relieved.

In reply to Ashara Kolwyn (msg # 24):

Bron, checked on everything else at least twice more. He needed to know it would be ready to move. Sure enough, it was. He then headed back to his Lordship's family to see if they where alright. He noticed Ashara shivering, much like the time he pulled her from the water. Cold never seemed to bother Bron-unless it was the cold from beyond the wall. Even then, normal clothes the summerlanders would where was enough for Bron to fight that off. He reached into his belonging, bringing out his bearskin fur armor he wore when in the north. The loinskin was good enough for the south.

He approached Ashara. "My Lady, if you would not mind..." Assuming she had no objections, he wrapped her in the bearskin armor-so that only her face could be seen in the bear hide 'helmet' of the furry open jaws. "That should keep you warm and dry until we reach Blackhaven."

Ashara smiles gratefully at Bron. "I don't mind. It's kind of you to think of me." she says. The armor is warm, and a tremendous relief.
She giggles "How silly do I look? A Dornish girl in northern armor..."
She adds seriously "Thank you so much, Bron. I'm really not used to this wind and weather, and I was miserable."
Ashara gets a mischievous glint in her eye. "I'd give you a kiss to say thank you, but the jaws on the helmet..." she teased quietly so only Bron could hear.

In reply to Ashara Kolwyn (msg # 26):

Bron laughs at the sight of her. He quickly borrows a shield, shinles it up quickly, and shows her it's reflective surface. The armor covers her completely, as it was designed for someone much larger. It even looks like the bear has devoured her. Save for her face, which is sticking out of its jaws.

When she offers the kiss, he grins, and raises the shield over her head to protect her from the rain. Then he undoes the strap which keeps the bear helmet on her head with his free hand, and lowers it down. "There you are..." He says quietly, and winks at her.

 However, he does seem to look at her breifly, as if seeing something for the first time. "I noticed...your hair. It somehow looks more beautiful when slightly damp. Like when we were in the water together. Fire that burns even under the sea..." He whispered back to her, gently touching her the wet strands. He shakes his head and takes his hand away. As if reproaching himself.

Ser Hassan's eyes darkened his horse clopped through the mud toward Lady Ashara and Bron Snow, "HOW DARE YOU!!!" Was heard shouted over the thunderstorm as the the butt of Hassan's spear collided with the back of the northern bastard.
Those who were watching particularly Ashara knew that the force of the blow was enough to greatly wound some men, were it not for the Northerner's hardy constitution he may have been.
"Let me ask you something boy!" Hassan was enveloped in fury, spittle flew from his mouth, "Do you know what I did to Targaryen men who defiled Dorne with their presence!? I had them drawn and quartered, and the pieces sent back to their lords via catapault!" Seething, he said "Think of what I will do to you if you dare defile my neice," with this he looked up and glared at Ashara. "And you are truly fortunate Bastard that you saved her life years ago" There had always been rumors of the dark things Hassan had men carry out during the war, but most people refused to believe them due to his reputation alone.

(Ooc-gonna give Ashara a chance to post before I act.)
This message was last edited by the player at 01:59, Tue 28 Oct 2014.

Pm

In reply to WaryJasra (msg # 30):

Ok
This message was last edited by the player at 01:12, Tue 28 Oct 2014.

In reply to Bron Snow (msg # 31):

In reply to WaryJasra (msg # 32):

Pm

Pm

In reply to WaryJasra (msg # 34):

Pm

In reply to Bron Snow (msg # 35):

In reply to WaryJasra (msg # 36):


Bron heard the clomping hooves and the swing of the spear. His well practiced reflexes did not allow him to avoid the blow, but keep it from hitting his neck. That would have been serious damage, but it just struck his back. Allowing for a nasty bruise as opposed to a strain or broken spine.

He rolled on the wet earth, coming up in an animal like stance. As if he was about to spring at the mounted lord. The look of pain and rage in his face making Bron seem somewhat less than human for a moment.

Even as his muscles tensed to spring, he noticed Ashara. That was no pirate he would be attacking. It was her kin-and if he harmed him, she would know him as Bron the beast-not Bron the man. It was important to him for the one person who did not look upon him with fear to not regard him as an animal.

So he straightened himself, cracked his neck, and flexed his fingers. "You strike well my lord when trying to harm someone not paying attention to you. It might go a bit different now...but then, you would be striking down someone who wanted to insure your kin's health. Do you plan on trying again? Let me know, so I can be ready this time..."
This message was last edited by the player at 02:15, Tue 28 Oct 2014.

The dark-haired woman watched as Fatimah left without so much as a word towards her; Cyra's expression was more surprised than anything else, as though she were not accustomed to being so ignored. "Not much for compliments, your cousin." But she turned back to the task at hand over the roar of the wind, "Thank you, dear sister," Cyra said, smiling brightly at Ashara, "Now if brilliance could neuter storm, we be warm as well."

The woman from Myr spent the majority of the journey fervently avoiding horseback, and whenever a horse came too close to her she would visibly flinch. Once after a thunderclap the scare was bad enough she'd curse in Myrish, her words as colorful as her pirate's face. At first the storm and the lands were a novelty she cherished, but after a few days hard travel the novelty began to wear thin; if it weren't for the sunny company of Ashara and Dio her Westerosi might have turned colorful as well. Her fine, but thin, clothes were soaked through, and she was chilled nearly to her soul. She often spoke aloud to her companions of the delights of heated strawberry cider, fire-heated feet, and exaggerated stories to help them sleep easier at night. Speaking the words seemed to ward off the chill and bring a candlelight to her eyes--it was too wet for anything more.

When Bron stepped up to give his skin-armor to Ashara, Cyra watched the exchange for a moment with narrowed eyes, but they eased and she allowed herself to drift slightly further, giving the two privacy by distance, a knowing smile playing on her lips. She had turned to say something to Dio when she flinched away at the sound of hooves coming so close to herself, and the thuds of weapon against man and man against ground drew her attention. Drawing herself up, confident that most everyone else would be more intent on the man with the weapons than on her loss of composure, she raised an eyebrow at the blatant attack.

Cyra snorted. "Had I known kindness was so punished, you'd have been drawn and quartered years ago," she said to Dio in Myrish. The last was punctuated with a playful elbow to his ribs. "What a boar."

Ashara laughs at her reflection and blushes as Bron pulled off her helmet. She had smiled and opened her mouth to reply when her uncle came charging in. She gasps in shock as Ser Hassan hits Bron.
"Uncle, stop it!" Ashara pleads. Ordinarily, she likes how protective her uncle is, but at the moment he frightens her. "Nothing improper was going to happen."

"Bron, don't talk that way to a knight" she chides. It wasn't respectful, but more importantly, it wasn't safe with her uncle in the move he was in. "There isn't going to be any more fighting." I wish I could reassure Bron, but that would just make uncle angrier.

Fatimah is rather stunned. She's frightened too by her father's outburst. This was not the time to fight. A storm, potential enemies, the need to get to cover. All over teasing Bron. And now Bron was being insulting. We should get to shelter and safety. We don't want to be ambushed in the middle of this maddening weather! Fatimah yells, doing her best to talk over the storm. If we all just pretend it didn't happen we will be fine right?

Lord Perros approaches Bron, he is on horseback - The steed is unsteady and its legs are muddy. The rain starts up again lightly soaking into everyone that was almost dry and everything is wet again.

"ENOUGH! Bron mind yourself and remember your place or the next time I will have you whipped. You service this house and you have served well to do not mistaken our kindness for weakness nor think you are family. We will respect your abilities and your ways but you will do the same, and my daughter is high born and you are not, ..... so you are not to think as her equal. And it be wise to remember that when around those north of the Boneway."

"Ser Hassan this matter is over, .... Your diligence to our family is also well received, this man will not suffer this day but if he continues you will administer the punishment that is required."


Loudly so everyone can hear clearly, ....

All of you hear my words - Hear this and know it well! We are not in Dorne any longer your actions are a reflection of me and 'My House' know that your indiscretions will be handle accordingly, ....

This will be my only warning!
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:40, Wed 29 Oct 2014.

Bron glanced over at Lord Perros, and exhaled. Trying to calm down and not retaliate. Last man who laid hands on him had been dealt with firmly-but this was the south. The Lords where allowed to abuse anyone under them whenever they wished. He considered briefly leaving at first light-leaving these people to whatever fate awaited them. However, that was just pride talking. Still, why stay when he could expect such treatment?

That is when he noticed Sundancer sitting in a tree branch. Normally the bird sheltered itself when the rain came. It could see the storm clouds from far away-and made sure to avoid them. However, the animal was always there when he needed him. Somehow. He looked on the animal, and it shook its head back and forth, as if saying no.

It was insane to take guidance from a bird. However, he had been doing so all his life. He had never been steered wrong-although the connection between events and the eagle was tenuous at best. Without Sundancer,  it would be too frighting being in a world without anyone watching out for him at all...

"As you command, my Lord." He said, bowing to Lord Perros. He ignores Hassan, trying not to add to his own frustration. However, if that man touches him again-knight or no knight, Bron would make sure he regretted it. At least it made him feel better to say it in his own head, if not out loud.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:55, Wed 29 Oct 2014.

Ashara is dismayed by all the trouble she caused Bron and her family. She gives Bron an apologetic look. She nods to Fatimah and rides slowly over to Cyra. She whispers to Cyra
She rides over to Lord Perros. "Father, Bron is loyal to this family. It's me you should be angry at. I was teasing him. All Bron did was give me a compliment. I'm sorry I caused you trouble" she explains quietly so the others won't overhear, looking apologetic. A very sweet compliment, too. I never realized Bron was so romantic...

That didn't work. That definitely didn't work. I see what he means by representing, but there weren't people to watch and the storm is here... Fatimah's horse trots behind her father, and she does her best to look suitably embarrassed.

Aislin who was riding upon the horse near Perros watched as lady Ashara rode up. "Please allow me to talk to her Perros, I have a more... gentle touch." Ashara's aunt looked her over and shook her head, "What are we going to do with you my dear." She grabbed for Ashara's hand to console her as they rode, "You must understand Ashara, what he did, even helping you as he did was a major breach of Etiquette," Ashara knew that Aislin was referring not to what he did, but the way he did it. "The line must be set now, we are not in our own lands, and if people see you cavorting around with a man, let alone a northern bastard, then rumors will start. You can not have a future with him even if you want one, you are High Born and he is not. A man such as him would not be able to provide for you. Let me smooth things over with your father," Aislin looked back in the group at Bron, "Had he not saved your life it would not have surprised me if your Uncle had hit him with the proper end. Do not disappoint the family Ashara."

"Aunt Aislin!" Ashara greets Aislin hopefully. She was very fond of her aunt, as fond as she was of her uncle Hassan. And talking to her beloved aunt was certainly better than facing her father.
"Bron asked very politely if he could help me, and I agreed. I really was freezing. And I was teasing him. If anything improper occurred, it was my fault and not his. Father and uncle Hassan can be cross with me, I deserve it, but they shouldn't be angry at a loyal shield of House Kolwyn." Ashara explains.
Ashara blushes when the talk turns to marriage. "We, we were not 'cavorting'" she replies, flustered. "I... I don't intend to disappoint my family." she adds sadly. Ashara sighs Bron's valorous and kind and saved my life... but he's not highborn and it's not my choice. What should I do? It had always seemed so easy to do what was proper before...

Bron watched from afar at Ashara's discomfort. He could accept the noble's treatment-after all, they believed themselves better than others. It's that thinking that led to his mother's fate. Why argue with them? He was free-and they where trapped by oaths, and duty, and willful blindness. In the end, only Bron decided his own fate-even if it was to stay with these people.

But Ashara...she was not like them. She had compassion for people, and enjoyed her life. Her enjoyment was based on other's happiness, unlike most people. Now she was trying to shield him from her family.

If Bron was becoming a threat because of his existence, then he had to leave. Ashara would be punished because of her family's fears. They wanted to marry her off to some useful lord, who's land they could use. No matter what she wanted.

Maybe I should not have returned her to her family. He thought for the first time. Maybe this is a worse jail then the one she was in.

Cyra did her best to keep her face composed despite the goings-on, fighting down an expression of both parts wonder and revulsion, as though she were watching a play. Each part, from the disapproved lover to the lordly men protecting a daughter's virtue. It couldn't have been better if the whole scene was planned. She had little doubt that Bron had just given these wounded noblemen an excuse to exercise power and control, despite the fact they were licking wounds they weren't sure they had. If anyone had been watching, he would have gotten an eyeful of the Kolwyns, and a mindful of how they used their power.

Ashara's approach pulled Cyra out of herself and she listened closely, nodding. She reached out a hand at first to take the large bearskin off of the lady's shoulders, but she paused for half a moment, thought better of it, and just laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. "As you wish," she said in her heavily accented Westerosi. And she watched as Ashara went off to dutifully take her chastisement. She turned away, hiding a snort and a chuckle.

Steering her horse, with some difficulty, Cyra went until her horse was next to Bron, her leg would have brushed his arm if he did not take a step back, but she did not dismount, appearances being what they were. "Your bird not fly 'way." It was a statement, not a question, "Not behavior of wild thing in storm." She studied his face as she said this as though she were trying to read a familiar story in an unfamiliar language.

In reply to Cyra Vyraes (msg # 48):

Bron indeed had been focused enough on the distant goings on of Ashara that he did not notice Crya's horse until it brushed by his arm via her leg. He glanced up at her. "Ummm...what?" He looked at Sundancer, who was staying dry under the tree canopy. "Er...yes. He knows where his treats come from..." He waved off the bird like it was an annoyance. Sundancer cawed, but did little else.

After the events unfold with few not realizing what was even happened, ..... most of the procession just pushes forward with their heads down to shield from the rain. Soon a break in the clouds and over a small ridge a clearing just outside Blackhaven. Riding up to meet the caravan a unit of Dondarrion men, bearing the sigil of a forked purple lightning bolt on black field speckled with four-pointed stars. Their equipment looks a bit mixed and matched except for their shields and helms. The rain seems not to trouble them as they seem to feel at home with the rain on their faces and their hair knotted and soaked. Lord Perros and his guards move to the forward to meet these men. Horses side by side with no signs of a threat they converse on horseback, both sides nodding in agreement as the Dondarrion men head back to Blackhaven proper and Lord Perros returns to the caravan.

"Over there on that hill crest we will set camp. The lord has extend a few to stay in Blackhaven."

"Ashara, Cyra, and your guards, ..... Ser Hassan pick 4 others to join us to ride now into the city. House Dondarrion will respect the "Nobles Call" and the right for food and shelter this day. "

Lord Perros then rides to the wagon holding his dear wife and a few house servants. He leans into the tarp and speak to his Lady, "Driver follow us into Blackhaven."

4 of the Lord's personal guards escort the small group as they head down to the city.

In reply to Bron Snow (msg # 49):

"Your bird more wisdom than you. Know who give your treats. Know who give her treats," she glanced meaningfully, but subtly, between Lord Perros and Lady Ashara before returning to Bron, lowering her velvet voice. "Learn to get treats and be naughty when your master not look." From beneath her sodden cloak she produced a small piece of dried meat, a ration she had stowed for the road. She urged her mount forward with tentative, unhappy hands. The horse grudgingly closed the distance between Bron and the bird's tree. Her arm was an arc of blue as she tossed the meat high towards Sundancer. A treat for a good and watchful pet. She moved off, not looking if the bird moved to catch the treat or let it fall uselessly to the ground.


Several hours later as Lord Perros relates the invitation, Cyra nodded and smiled out of sheer relief. Turning to Dio she switched to Myrish, translating for him, "We ride on to this Blackhaven. That means we get warm beds, fires, and meals tonight, maybe even a bath. Good time too, I thought this rain would wash away everything but my bones."

She moved close to Ashara, seeming ready to ride forward the moment the final selections were made, and leaned closer to her friend with a cheery grin, speaking in hushed tones.  Her hair dripped, her lips were tinged blue, and despite her efforts her hands shook from cold, but her face looked more alive than she had in days, not since the morning the storm broke.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:57, Wed 05 Nov 2014.

"Yes, father. It will be nice to see Blackhaven." Ashara follows her father, encouraged by the prospect of shelter and rest.
Ashara nods to Cyra and takes off the bearskin armor. "Good thinking" It isn't the sort of thing she could wear to meet the Dondarrions, anyways. She shivers in the cold and rain.
She blushes and giggles at Cyra's whispers. "Oh, yes." She was growing to rely on Cyra's company as she had on Jadis'.

Want me to be one of your guards? Fatimah asks Ashara riding up next to her.

Ashara smiles at Fatimah. "Yes please, coz. I appreciate it."

In reply to Cyra Vyraes (msg # 52):

Sundancer snatched the treat out of the air, not really concerned over who threw it. At least not when Bron was within view. Bron on the other hand raised an eyebrow and stared at Cyra's back. What was she suggesting? That he should risk Ashara, and himself? Then again, he watched her at a distance. Maybe he could contact her...just to see if she was ok. Yes, that is all. Nothing else-totally reasonable and safe. After all, he. Would just be inquiring about her well being. No one could blame him for that. Right?

Well, he would be smart enough to do it when her pig headed uncle and aunt were off making someone else's life miserable.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:20, Fri 07 Nov 2014.

In reply to Ashara Kolwyn (msg # 55):

Wonderful, especially because this means I don't get left out in the rain.

Ashara giggles. "Very clever, coz." she says to Fatimah. "The rain is driving us all a bit crazy."

In reply to Cyra Vyraes (msg # 52):

The ride had been less than enjoyable for Dio.  The mud was particularly but he had stayed quiet save for the occasional comment to Cyra meant to lift her spirits in the damnable weather.

With a tired no and the pop of his shoulders and neck the old pirate looks about as worn down as the muddy road they travelled on, "I was not meant for this travel.  These lands are so wet we might as well have sailed to this castle."

Hassan circles his horse away from the lord after receiving his orders. Helm in hand and his hair wet and knotted.

“Ashara, I see you & Fatimah have already agreed, .... so Ashara, Fatimah is now in your charge while we stay in Blackhaven.” “Cyra, I image your pick for guard will be Dio, .... This is not Dorne as our lord has reminded us so stay close to Ashara and Fatimah and keep to the back for safety.” Hassen's real worry is that the nobles will not recognize these women as equals, again as pointed out before, so his thought is to keep the women in the rear.

“Gabriel Laurent, you will be assigned my lady Aislin guard my treasure well”, Garbriel simply nods but is very upset of the change in duties.

“Ser Badar, Ser Ernesto, Strohan & Bron. You are all with me your duties will be to the lady and lord on my command with the house guards as the main detail for their protection.”

Hassan then barks orders to the many servants and men to set camp. He expects that all will be in order for when they return. He expresses that all measures are to be make. Even though the lord did not say how long they would be staying, Hassan expects it will be a few days to wait out the rain. He also orders that they are to stay out of Blackhaven until he says otherwise.
This message was lightly edited by the GM at 05:00, Wed 12 Nov 2014.

Ashara frowns when she hears Ser Hassan reassign her bodyguard. She'll miss Gabriel, but she trusts Fatimah to keep her safe. "We'll be careful, uncle."
She nods at his remark about this not being Dorne. "Do you know anything about the Dondarrions?" she asked her uncle curiously. She maintains a calm demeanor, even though she is cold again and eager to get to Blackhaven.

In reply to Ser Hassan Ravenhowe (msg # 60):

Bron nods to nobles command, and rides where directed. He tired to keep a neutral expression on his face, as the man was looking for an excuse to hurt him. Clearly this is the way they dealt with uncomfortable things-pretending like they never happened.

He of course noticed Ashara shiver, and had to restrain his impulses of getting her another fur. No good would come of it, so he had to just watch. He did not need to worry, she could get a warm bath after they reached Blackhaven.

In reply to Ashara Kolwyn (msg # 61):

I don't know much about the Dondarrians. I've heard stories about them engaging in heroics or at least winning against insane odds. Staying in the back? So he suspects danger? Seems reasonable, but... bleh. Confusing. At least she would avoid the rain.

"Dramatic heroics. That's a good sign, they might be exciting people" Ashara muses. "They aren't Dornish, though, they'll probably be a bit odd."

"Come" As Lord Perros address's those that will take shelter in the Blackhaven.

The rest of the caravan heads to the hill out side of the city and they begin to set camp. The rest of the nobles and their escorts head into Blackhaven. The city is large but not as lively as some of the cities of Dorne. The people seems down, depressed, maybe because of the weather or maybe its just their demeanor. Then again maybe, they feel the enemy had been welcomed into there home under forced circumstances.

The region of Blackhaven is part of the Dornish Marches, it is located in the northern Red Mountains near the Dornish border. It is north of the Wyl and south of the Cockleswhent. The fortress of Blackhaven guards this pass against their enemies & the outlaws hiding in the mountains.

Blackhaven has always been referred to as a city but it is a castle as well and the seat of House Dondarrion, a vassal house holding fealty to House Baratheon of Storm's End.

Blackhaven is a stout keep that has a long history and impressive history as a defensive fortification. There is an interesting legend about its founding.

OOC: players may rule if interested in this legend.

Bron looked around the gloomy place. It seemed quite the step down from Dorne-but then places like this was what he called home. At least, when he was not on the other side of the wall. He glanced at the walls of this place, and saw the bodies hanging. They wore signs around thier necks 'rapist', 'bandit', 'murderer'. Mostly to terrify the locals into obedience rather than frighten away outsiders. He looked to the sky, hoping the rain would clear away soon so he could see the sky once more...

Ashara rides with the others, looking around the city curiously. She notices that the locals don't seem too friendly and tries to make a good impression, giving them friendly waves and smiling prettily.
She says quietly to the other Dornish "An impressive city, to be sure. And a powerful castle. But I miss the spirit of Dorne." She looks up at Blackhaven, impressed by it but mindful that it was built at least partially to keep Dornish out. "I'd like to know more about these strange Stormlanders."

OOC: Interested

I would too. Any epic stories, or great battles? What are their tactics in battle? How do we woo the men? Fatimah giggles at the last bit, OOC: Extra background is always cool.

"Well, they are Marcher Lords, so unfortunately many of their great battles have been against us." Ashara responds to Fatimah. She blushes and giggles at Fatimah's last comment. "I don't know if Stormlanders are ready for spirited Dornish girls like us."

"My Lords and Ladies, Welcome to Blackhaven. I am Ser Giles Herston knight to "Old Lord Dondarrion". He has ask that we take you to his manor just below the ridge to castle Blackhaven. My apologies .... foreign forces are not allowed beyond the ridge. My young Lord Haryl and his family will meet you at his father's manor."

 Ser Giles Herston is a man in his early 50's and in good physical condition for a man in his age. He sports a gray beard and darker greases hair. He and his man are in no uniform except for their shield that hold the sigil of their sworn house Dondarrion. They also do have one other thing in common a dagger which are all exactly the same, that they have strapped to their boots.

Dagger: the pommel is made of red copper, its grip wrapped in purple cloth and the cross guard design in the shape of lighting bolts.

They are wet to the bone but it doesn't seem to trouble them much. All these escorts seem to have harden faces, some with mark on their faces from their battles. They are also all older then 40 or so they all look that old, ..... something's one can not really tell is a man's age when they have seem many battles.

The group passes much of the town and at its edge a large low wall manor stand ahead.

There are 2 on horse to the front, and 2 men to the rare. Ser Giles Herston was at the lead in the start but has fallen back along side Fatimah Ravenhowe.

"So you are a woman of Dorne, ..... are skilled warriors and our equal?"
Not listening to the reply he moves back forward to the lead.
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:52, Wed 19 Nov 2014.

"A pleasure to meet you and your men, Ser Giles. I am Lady Ashara Kolwyn, I'm grateful for your protection and hospitatlity" Ashara says courteously. The Dondarion men look experienced and tough... that's good news.
Ashara pouts slightly when Ser Giles completely bypasses her when he wants to speak to a woman of Dorne. And what does he think I am, a Stormlander?
This message was last edited by the player at 19:07, Fri 21 Nov 2014.

In reply to Ser Giles Herston (msg # 71):

The women of Dorne are just as fierce as our men, there is no place... and your not listening at all. she turns to Ashara I had a boast all ready about Dorne and sheesh. Rude.

"He's probably just busy with his duties. We can regale him with the wonders of Dorne when we're all safe and dry" Ashara responds to Fatimah. She leans over and whispers to her cousin

The procession rides up to 2 large heavy iron gates. Behind the gates, 2 guards in similar shield and dagger fashion are on foot. They open the gate and greet their follow soldiers and guests.

One of the men on the ground yells out to the squires and servants. "Get a move on you fat shit and tend to the horses." As another boy comes out to help he slaps him in the back of the head, ... hard. "Where the hell where you?" and then kicks the boy in the ass. The same soldier walks up to Lord Perros, "Lord Prince Kolwyn excuse these young boys, they tend to get lazy when it rains." He extend his hand to Lady Kowlyn "allow me to help M'lady."

---

Walled Manor:
The walls are only 8 feet tall and have a short wooden walkway that is exposed from the inside. The lower windows are either gated in iron or are narrow slits. The manor is simple but large and designed like a keep. Is not pretty to look at but its impressive and well staffed. No less then 20 men can bee seen on duty. Whether they are on guard, tending to the horses or fixing a wagon wheel they all seem to keep busy even in the rain.

There are two entrances, one lower to the left and one upper to the right. The right entrance has an open stone staircase that leads to a short 3 story tower. and left only has  a 3 step stone staircase that leads to a double wooden reinforced door, this is a shorter 2 story building. One wall to the tower rests on and over the short hall.

---

Walking from the right down the stairs is a white haired old man dress very well. At his side is a younger man, who seems to be helping him, or trying to help him down the stairs. "Dame you leave me alone, .... I'm more then able to walk on my own." the Old man give a good push to the younger man and continues to walk down the stone steps, perfectly fine on his own.

looking back at the young servant he says "Remind me, to tell my son to remove you from my sight, ... I'm old and tried but not a dam cripple."


Smiling as he walks up to the Lord Perros "Welcome Lords and ladies of Dorne, .... Welcome to Blackhaven and welcome to my home. I am Lord Cariel Dondarrion, ..." pointing to the double doors..... a few more that have come out in the rain to greet their guest. "Those over their that's my ass of a brother in law Osgred Selmy, and my young sister Menara" (she is 62 and not very pretty) . "So get down from these wet horses and come in, I'm excited to finial meet 'the purple ravens' and 'yellow owls'" as he smiles again and looks to grab for an arm for help, .... looking at Ashara's he extend for her arm to walk with. He then continues to walk to the left to the lower structure where the rest of the Dondarrion's family are waiting.

Greetings and similar but less direct hellos are given by the lord's sister and her husband.

Bron lets Sundancer fly, and follows along as directed. The bird was careful enough to not get shot by a stray hunter's arrow by staying up high enough. Bron doubted he would be allowed in with Ashara and the rest of them-but waited to be told where to go.

While waiting around-Bron made sure to scribble a note. Most people did not know he could read and write-and he let them think it. People got a bit funny around books-especially in the south. Those that read where rich-and those that could not where poor. Rich people did not care much for when the poor 'put on airs', and he was still leery about provoking them.

He would just bide his time, and wait until Ashara was not under constant watch.

Fatimah will bide her tongue, appear interested, and stay by Ashara. Even while she does that she tries to assess dangers and the intentions of her hosts. See if she could gather and under current of information.

Ashara winces when she sees the men yelling at and slapping around the squires. She fully sympathized with the boy’s desire to do no more than they had to in this kind of rain. But this is not her home and there isn’t anything she can do about it. She looks around curiously at Blackhaven as they enter.
Ashara is painfully aware that she’s soaked and hardly looks her best to meet another noble family. But she carries herself well and is determined to make the best of it, and doesn’t let her relief in being out of the rain show. She dismounts gracefully and prepares to meet the Dondarrions.
She curtsies to Lord Dondarrion him as he arrives. “A honor to meet you, Lord Dondarrion. I’m Ashara Kolwyn, eldest daughter of Lord Perros. I thank you for the kind hospitality of your family.” She smiles at him when he says he is exited to meet the Kolwyns. “I’m glad to hear we have such a pleasant reputation.” Ashara takes Lord Cariel’s arm and assists him in walking like he indicates. She smiles at the other Dondarrions as she approaches them.

From the outside the lord's manor is simple, but on the inside it seems to hold the history of the house. Tapestries hang from the walls, furs cover some areas of the floor, suits of armor too the previous lords of the house decorate cornners of the Hall. The lord and serveral family members and sworn swords await to property greet House Kolwyn, & House Ravenhowe.

"Lord's, princesses, ladies and princes welcome to the Stormlands, this is an interesting day and time. allow me to introduce some members of the house, ....."

"Ser Giles Herston, my loyal knight, and captain of the oringinal Blackbolts. - oddly how the old lord introduces his captain first as there stands family in the house colors."

"This is my lovely sister Menara, and her sometimes useful husband Osgred Selmy, ... that beast of a man is Ser Ackley "The Anvil", you most likely know him as he defied me and his father some years ago and joined against the house Targaryen in the war against you and Dorne."

"By the Seven you are a Beauty, young lady," he smiles as he lets go of Ashara's arm, "you know if I was a younger man I try to bed you before the rest of these lesser men even spoke a word."

Cariel Dondarrion "Old Lord Dondarrion" the current lord Haryl's father is crude and rude, but shrewd and deadly in the field of battle, a master in commanding troop and defending the Boneway from the south.

Inwardly, Cyra was glad that the Stormlands didn't have any goods her family wanted, because living in this dower land with stern people sounded less than appealing. Despite her silence her bright brown eyes watched at the exchanges with Lord Perros, Fatimah, and Ashara. She stayed comfortably close to Dio while they walked to stave off the lack of warmth of this place: lack of warmth in more than sun alone.

Once inside, Cyra unclasped her dripping cape and laid it across one bare arm; she didn't bother looking behind her as she was certain she was leaving a lake behind her from her dress alone. The silk of her sleeveless dress was the color of twilight and the drenched fabric clung closer to her body than normal. Her eyes wondered the hall, taking note of each person who was introduced, and any who were not.

Upon hearing the compliment paid to Ashara, Cyra gave the Lord a roughish smile and said, "It lucky you not younger man, for lady's virtue. I certain many beauty gave to your charm not one summer past." After a moment she dropped into a shallow curtsy, "Vallar morgulis, it is pleasure to be guest here, to take refuge from rain."

In reply to Cyra Vyraes (msg # 80):

"Now you are a beauty. And that accent you are neither from the south or north..... So lovely lady what noble family are you from?"

Cariel Dondarrion "Old Lord Dondarrion" seems interested, ....
This message was last edited by the GM at 00:41, Sat 29 Nov 2014.

Ashara is intrigued by the tapestries but keeps focused on making a good first impression; they'll be time to see those later. She curtsies formally to the other Dondarrions. “Greetings from Dorne, Sers and ladies. It is an honor to meet you all.” She nods gratefully to Ser Ackley. “Especially you, Ser Ackley.” She hadn’t know there were northerners who fought against the Dragon Kings; it was encouraging.
Ashara blushes prettily. "You pay my beauty quite a compliment, my lord." Her teasing had already gotten her in trouble once recently, it was best to be demure and maidenly at the moment.

Ser Hassan walked into the room with Lady Aislin on his arm, his armor was drenched and he would see that Gerrin ensured it's maintenance. The trail of the children of House Ravenhowe shortly followed. "Thank you Lord Cariel for having us, we appreciate your hospitality," he then gave a gentle bow of his head. He looked around at the people in the keep, he was curious how many of them harbored ill will toward him or his allies.

In reply to Ser Hassan Ravenhowe (msg # 83):

The Anvil seeing Hassan come in is pleased. "Ser Hassan it has been a long time since we have seen one another I hope the journey through the Boneway was not to your disliking."

Ser Hassan has fought in a battle once before with The Anvil, but has never witnessed him in combat. In fact they have never formally meet. On the field soldiers spoke of him as a skilled killer. Of course the same is said about Hassan.

"I see you have brought your fable knights with you beautiful and deadly."
This message was last edited by the GM at 01:55, Sat 29 Nov 2014.

"It is a pleasure to meet the man behind the myth, and in regards to beautiful I can only assume you speak of my daughter Fatimah," he said chuckling. Hassan gave the storm lander a firm handshake. "But where are my manners, this is my wife, Lady Aislin, of house Kolwyn." Lady Aislin raised her hand to greet him properly. "I have indeed brought The Ravens Claws with me, as well as our children, it is not often we would get to see the capital and I want them to see the kingdom. I trust things have been well for you since the war?"

"Well M'lady I am two steps shy of being a trader. My family has pressured me to marry but I can't stand the women they introduce me to. Its not that I enjoy the company of men more than women, it's just the women they introduce me to are to, ...to delicate."

"If I was going to marry it's going to a woman who can breed me warriors."

Lady Menara Dondarrion steps forward, "If I left it to this ox he would have married a goat. Men of the sword don't understand politics, .... that's why he has me"

"Lady Aislin its nice to meet you," .... As she politely bows her head just slightly in respect to Hassan.

Ser Hassan beckoned his eldest daughter toward them, "It was only jest, Ser Ackley." Ser Hassan chuckled at Lady Menara's joke, Aislin gave a polite smile. "Though I may have protested, my daughter Fatimah has been training with spear and blade since she was old enough to hold one," with that Aislin glared up at her husband. Hassan gave a shrug and smile, "Although Ser Ackley I have been looking for a Knight for my son Roland to squire under,  and my other son Baldwin should be ready to begin paging himself."

In reply to Ser Hassan Ravenhowe (msg # 87):

"I am not a nurturing, nor a caring man, .... my last squire ran off in the middle of night and I don't remember what happened to my page," as he laughs at this own joke. "I am not much for being helped."

In reply to Caladin (msg # 81):

Cyra gave the lord a coy smile and waved a hand as if blurring her words, "I noble spun of lace, lace dyed to sun and sea." She gave Ashara a brief sidelong glance and winked conspiratorially, returning her eyes to Lord Dondarrion. <purple>'Sun and sea yet knows little of lightning bolts."

In reply to Cyra Vyraes (msg # 89):

"Okay, so she's pretty but what the hell is she talking about."

The old Lord didn't seem to get her humor nor did he like it.

Or understand it, .....

Ashara smiles to see her uncle chatting with an old comrade. She looks a bit surprised to see him introduce Fatimah to Ackley after Ackley mentioned he was unmarried. Is uncle Hassan planning to marry Fatimah to Ser Ackley? An unusual choice, to be sure.
Ashara smiles at Cyra's wink. She seems disappointed Lord Dondarrion doesn't care to play along with Cyra's guessing game. She gives Cyra a questioning look, uncertain if Cyra would like Ashara to introduce her.

In reply to Caladin (msg # 88):

"Well being independant is not a bad thing," answer Aislin, Hassan appeared unsure as to whether or not he was being serious.

In reply to Ser Hassan Ravenhowe (msg # 87):

Fatimah approached when beckoned, although she wanted to join in anyway. You flatter me, and honor me. she says smiling if you want your children to be warriors marrying a Dornishwoman would be the way to go. And I probably just stuck my foot in my mouth.

Cyra fought back the urge to sigh in annoyance at the Lord, biting back the words the she is right here. But she maintained her playful composure and caught Ashara's eyes, nodding at her sister's questioning look. She also wondered if subtly was lost on all of this man's court, or just him. If all of them were dull as dullards, Cyra suspected that this castle would be a boring respite… or a problematic one. She hadn't decided which yet.

"So will I see NO answer to my question, ..... I am still the lord of this manor" as he looks at the servents, "and I don't like the look of that one." As he points to Cyra Vyraes "Are you a Lady or not?"
Looking over at Lord Perros, "So do you bring small folk to my home, or is she a whore, ... a gift for me to bed?"
The lord's temperament quickly changes and the rest of his home stands quite looking on with concern.

Lord Perros reply "She is with us and part of 'My' House Lord, and no she is not of westerosi noblilties but either an I, ..." he look at him with eyes of an man that will not take his rude and crude remarks if they continue.
This message was last edited by the GM at 05:34, Mon 01 Dec 2014.

"This Cyra Vyraes, my lord. She's a Myrish lady, and her family are friends of House Kolwyn. No insult is intended to you." Ashara explains in a conciliatory tone. She is a bit insulted at the Dondarrion lord's behavior, but it doesn't show past her carefully trained courtesy. She wants to snap at him and defend Cyra, but that would cause a lot of trouble.
This message was last edited by the player at 05:46, Mon 01 Dec 2014.

Okay, that's not good. Maybe I should change the subject? Pretend it didn't happen? Of course, its hardly fair to boast when our daughters can learn to fight. Its only natural better warriors can be found when you have twice as many to pick from.

In reply to Ashara Kolwyn (msg # 96):


Smiling at Ashara, ....
"A true Dornish princess, Beautiful, well spoken, and beautiful, but I said that already didn't I, ....."

Looking back at Perros, ....
"Fine Lord Kolwyn, she is part of your house and she will be welcomed."

He gives a hand jester like calling a servant, ....

"Ser Ackley Selmy, get the servants and make sure our guests are comfortable, I will be walking this beauty and the rest to the guest wing of the manor, ...."

Looking at his guests, "you will need to refresh yourselves, dry off, and clean up. I will have a meal prepared in the hall and we can eat and discuss policies or victories which every, ...you," looking at Ashara "would like," .... and smiling as if he is getting somewhere with his flirting.

In reply to Fatimah Ravenhowe (msg # 97):

"There is no boosting, you have what it takes then you have it, .... those that boost usually don't. A dagger is deadly in the hands of any man, woman, or child, ....

But men are blood thirsty, and women are treacherous and children are naïve if I had to pick I prefer Blood Thirsty on the field."

I must take my leave perhaps tonight when we eat.? Until then."
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:10, Thu 04 Dec 2014.

Bron was being ignored by most now-which was acceptable to him. He proceeded to help with getting the horses put away, and cleaned up. As he was part of the Kolwyn 'guest party', the guards around here would look at him warily, but that was all. They would not risk starting trouble without cause. The servants would also give him space, as he was very scary-but there was no one they could complain to due to his 'guest status'.

Of course, that did not mean Bron could do whatever he liked. There would be limits, but given the fact he did not plan on doing anyone any harm unless he was assaulted, he should be fine. Besides, if they wanted to hurt me, they could just have Ashara's uncle do it. He rolled his eyes. He was not keen on seeing Ashara's uncle or her aunt, nor Lord Kolwyn. Give them some space, and just go about your duties. He thought.

The back of his head still tingled a bit. It was proof of the man's cowardice. If he really just wanted to make an example out of Bron, he could have just struck him with his hand. Using a weapon, even if it was not the edge, was an attempt to do an injury serious enough to frighten Bron. It had the opposite effect, which was the result of a bully finally meeting someone ready to strike back. If Bron had, he would have to leave in a hurry.

After his work was done, he would have to keep himself busy. Maybe finding out where Ashara was staying would occupy his time. Then he could send his note to her, and try to let her know everything would be ok. Or just put her mind at ease. Or maybe just put his mind at ease-and brag a little bit. After all, he rarely told anyone he could read or write...
This message was last edited by the player at 16:04, Thu 04 Dec 2014.

OOC: OK so I need a recap from each player, and part of that should include what they do until the next day. No interaction needed for now. I do not want to post the hall, dinner or getting cleaned up. Players may post freely on these topics or other details. Players may freely post the events until they lead to mid-afternoon the next day. The weather is wet and rain until noon. At this point I will post a new IC.
This message was last edited by the GM at 00:38, Fri 05 Dec 2014.

Ashara was certain grateful for the chance to get cleaned up and dried off. She wanted to look her best to try and impress house Dondarrion. She asked Cyra for help picking out a dress for dinner and help with her hair.

She was pleasant and charming company at dinner, trying to give the Dondarrions the best possible impression of the Dornish. She also tried to make sure that Cyra was enjoying herself, knowing that the Dondarrions might not be polite to her Myrish sister.

She would have to talk to her uncle and father about what had happened with Bron. But it was better to wait for both herself and her uncle to cool off first. She gave Bron an apologetic look and a smile when no one was watching.

The next morning, Ashara rests from the road but doesn’t oversleep. She is eager to see more of Blackhaven, but still tired from the road. She chatters a bit with the local to try and find out more about them, and looks around Blackhaven some. But mostly she takes it easy that morning and rests, talking to Cyra and tending to her needlework.

I'm gonna try to clean up a little. Don't want the damp to rot anything. Fatimah explains as she leaves Ashara I asked the servants for quarters nearby don't hesitate if you need anything I'll leave the door open so I can hear if there is trouble

When, Fatimah gets to her room, close to Ashara, she changes out of her armor and sets it out to dry. She doesn't put aside her sword though. She finds one of the servants and asks for food. If or when it comes she'll eat, perform drills and exercises and finally sleep. Today was a good day.

OOC: Time passes?

Ser Hassan had convened with the Raven's Claws before turning in for the night. After their small meeting they all saluted one another by thumping their fists lightly upon their chests before turning and leaving. Aislin and Hassan put their children to bed, Hassan intentionally checked in on his daughter Fatimah last, whom he wished a good night and kissed her on the forehead telling her that he's proud of her.

Turning into bed he dried off his armor and then reoiled it before hanging it upon a set. During some time in the night the sounds of lascivious behavior could be heard coming their room. Much to the dismay of Fatimah...

OOC: Thank you for the recaps :) This IC has ended, the New IC is ready and will be up shortly.

Congratulation !

This scene has ended, a new thread will be posted.

---

Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
Scene:13, Group:1

All players receives 1 experience

Each player that has played from the first IC receives 1 Destiny;

---