It was midafternoon on Arrival Day.

The first few houses that arrived at Arrowmark were from the direction of Runestone. The Upcliffs of Witch Isle had traveled the furthest. Followed by the Tolletts who were sworn to the Royces of Runestone.

The first two groups were about 20 people each, including family, warriors, and servants. And after the Sylvayn household had greeted them and servants had taken care of their horses, other servants led them to their quarters.

The Royces were led by the widowed Lord Yohn Royce himself. Accompanied by his two sons, the younger Robar a better turney warrior than the older Andar - a third son had taken the black and was serving in the irrelevant Night's Watch; his two daughters, the older less attractive Dorna and younger, strong-willed and hot-tempered Ella; Andar's wife Madelyn and their three children; five armored knights in Royce tabards, four squires, an archer, two male servants, and three female servants. A total of 24 people. They dismounted and servants started taking their horses and things away and the family was presented to the Sylvayns.


[OOC: Let's say everyone's there. Let me know who you want to be described in greater detail. Feel free to engage with the knights and servants too, if you like.]

Catelyn takes her traditional place, apart from the Sylvayn family but in a station well above most others in attendance, as guests arrive. She has taken care to groom herself well today and dress the part, though she has not chosen one of her best outfits, choosing to keep those clean for upcoming festivities and the wedding itself. Still, the gown was flattering on her figure, its dark green a pleasant yet not over-the-top color, and its golden accents matching her hair well. She didn't pair a coat with it, which might have been unwise if everyone weren't arriving mid-afternoon.

She smiles at the arrivals while not trying to draw attention to herself, just trying to be polite and take them in. When the Royces arrive she shifts a little, trying not to move much and draw attention to herself, but trying to be less visible.

Sharra was wearing a lovely dress in her house colors of blue and silver. She had opted for elegant but modest. She is very busy greeting the guests and trying to play hostess, smiling brightly and speaking cheerily to everyone. She saved a particular greeting for Lord Royce. "It's an honor to have you and your family here, Lord Royce. I hope Arrowmark is to your liking."

As a knight of the household, Galad was garbed not in cloth or silks, but  heavy mail and a Sylvayn surcoat. It was important that guests felt secure within Sylvayn lands, and few things provided a greater sense of that security that the giant gold-haired knight. He went without help, but wore a heavy blade across his back, should his lord have need of him.

He glanced at Ser Robar Royce speculatively, knowing the man would be competitive in the lists, but approached his elder brother Andar, as the heir and authority after Lord Yohn, "I trust you had little trouble on the road, Ser Andar?" he enquired respectfully.

"Everything looks lovely Lady Sylvayn," Lord Royce said. He wore his customary breastplate with short mail sleeves over fabric long sleeves and a coat in his house colors with his coat of arms on it. "Though I almost considered not coming as a raven just arrived from Castle Black letting me know that my son Waymar died north of the wall. But duty comes first. Both his to the Night's Watch and mine to Lord Arryn."

"No trouble," Ser Andar said taking Galad's full size. His outfit, though worthy of nobility, was on the less expensive side more appropriate for traveling. His brother, sisters, wife, and children were similarly dressed while the various warriors were armed and armored as they should be. Whether that was plate or leather. Both Andar and Robar wore swords at their hip. "Few bandits or hill tribes attack a group of more than 50 people. Even if a majority are noncombatants. And you look like you will have less trouble in the joust. You will be jousting I presume?"

House Cragborn, the banner House of the Sylvayns, was also in place in Arrowmark greeting the guests. Gyllen, in particular, visited with the Royces and they talked about the last time they got together in King's Landing at the Tourney of Prince Joffrey's 16th nameday a few months ago.


A little later a caravan of ten Houses started arriving from Old Anchor and beyond. Each house traveling in groups of 20 or so people. The Pryors, Shepherds, and the Coldwaters came first. All minor houses of the Vale. All greeted by the hosting Sylvayns and the Cragborns.

They were followed by House Lynderly, another minor house. This generation was young like the Sylvayns. Lord and Lady Lynderly, Jon and Jeyne, were younger than Corwyn. And their oldest child, Cyrenna was 19 years old. A dancer by the looks of her and with stronger arms than most women. And many men for that matter. Not a beauty like the bride or Cat or Sharra, but still unmarried and not a bad catch for any Vale lord. Their third and final child and heir, Terrance, was only 12 years old. While their middle daughter Daena was 16 years old. The family was dressed appropriately for traveling nobles of their station and Jon wore a sword with some comfort.

They were accompanied by five armored knights wearing Lynderly tabards, three squires, two archers, two male servants, and two female servants. A total of 19 people.

As they dismounted and their things were led away by servants, the houses greeted each other.
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:28, Fri 30 Oct 2020.

Galad found his eye drawn to the alluring stride of Lady Cyreena, but tore his glance away, reminding himself of his duty. "Young Terrance carries himself well, Lord Jon," Ser Galad said, after the ceremonial welcome had been performed, "shall we see him bearing the Serpent Shield into the tournament lists by his sire's side?" His tone was half-joking, but not mocking, for it was clear that the young man had begun some manner of martial training.
This message was last edited by the player at 10:00, Sun 01 Nov 2020.

Cat keeps welcoming her if and when they get to her, continuing to stay in her appropriate spot. She tries to take in all the various people, remembering who she has met and trying to recognize new faces or faces that have grown.

"Thank you" Sharra said gratefully when Lord Royce said everything looked lovely. Bust she gasped at his next words. "Oh heavens! I'm so sorry for your loss, Lord Royce. I will pray for him."

"Thank you," Lord Royce said at Sharra's offer of prayers for his son.

"Yes, my son will squire for me in the tournament," Lord Lynderly responded to Galad. And where most of the men that were going to compete in the joust had been somewhat nervous when they looked at the massive knight, there was only confidence in Jon. "I hope our lances will cross in the joust. I wouldn't mind unhorsing you.

"I have heard that you know how to wield a sword," Cyrenna told Cat. "I wouldn't mind seeing that for myself."

Cat replies to Cyrenna, "Yes, first learned from my father and my brothers." More quietly and not directly to Cyrenna she immediately adds "What is dead may never die. May the Father judge them well." Then she keeps going with her reply to Cyrenna, "But Iron Islanders do not normally draw our blades for sport, and I suspect I would be unwelcome in any tournament competition as well. You may have to join me at sea in the future to see for yourself." Cat's smile is genuine and inviting, but not awaiting any serious reply so she continues right away, "What part of the wedding are you looking forward to the most?"

"The dancing," Cyrenna said. "What about you?"

The Lynderlys were followed by the Corbrays, the bride and her family. The largest party the Sylvayns had greeted all day.

Lord Lyonel Corbray was 38 years old, the same age as Corwyn Sylvayn, and Lady Denyse Corbray, Lord Yohn Royce's oldest child, was a couple of years younger. And the bride, their only child, the beautiful Perryanne. Now in close proximity with the other two 18-year-old beauties of the Vale, Sharra and Cat.

They were accompanied by Lyonel's two brothers, his heir presumptive Ser Lyn who was single, handsome, and thin and in a family upset the wielder of Lady Forlorn, their heirloom Valyrian steel sword. And the younger, but already married, Lucas with his wife Dorna and their only child, the 16-year-old Florian.

In addition to blood, they traveled with ten knights, seven squires, several servants, and their maester Sumner.

They were all dressed appropriately for their station and for travel. They dismounted and their horses and luggage were taken away so that the family could greet their hosts.

Ser Argos Moore, one of the more skilled knights of the household, removed his helmet and took a deep breath of fresh air.

As Lord Corbray didn't have any sons and his son in law to be was the heir of House Melcolm, there was the possibility that the two houses would merge in the next generation. Despite any feelings his brothers might have against such a move.
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:21, Thu 05 Nov 2020.

Sharra greeted the Corbrays with a smile and a curtsy. "Welcome to Arrowmark, my lords and ladies. I hope your journey went well! We'll do everything we can to make sure you enjoy your time here."

Galad noted Ser Argos Moore, judging the man to be his counterpart among the Corbray train, and from a house renowned for producing warriors of great skill and daring.

However, he found himself more curious about Ser Lyn. Though slim of build, the knight was likely a deadly fighter, as the bearers of Valyrian Steel were an esteemed and fearsome group.

When a moment presented itself, he approached the middle brother of House Corbray, nodding his head in dignified greeting. "Ser Lyn, your House's arrival has been much anticipated, with the glory of a tourney and the upcoming nuptials, this is surely a time of great prestige for your house."

"Yes, our journey went well," Lord Corbray said. "And we thank you for hosting this wedding for us."

"We'll see," Ser Lyn replied to Galad. "This wedding was forced upon us. My brother had already made arrangements with Lord Stormwood for my niece to move to them in the Stormlands and marry Ser Godric. He may be older than her, but his father is heir apparent and older still. Mark my words, Ser Godric will be the next Lord Stormwood and that would have been a much better match for us than this union with the loathsome Melcolms that Lord Arryn ordered us to enter into."

"He is our liege," Lord Corbray reprimanded his younger brother. "And we will do as he commands."

Ser Lyn mockingly inclined his head in silence towards his brother.

The Corbrays were followed by the Longthropes who were followed by the Manderlys, one of only two families from outside the Vale that had been invited to the wedding. Inviting the Manderlys had been suggested by Gyllen.

Their house was older in this generation. Lord Manderly, a widower in his early 60s, a heavy man, though not as big as the king, with white hair and beard wearing a breastplate and riding under his merman banner.

His heir Wyllis was almost ten years older than Corwyn. And his wife Leona was almost as old. They had two teenage daughters, Wynafryd and Wylla, that were with them.

They were accompanied by knights, squires, a septa, and other servants. 24 people in total.

They dismounted and their things were taken away as the families greeted one another.
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:15, Wed 11 Nov 2020.

"Oh, that should be fun. The tournament should be entertaining and informative, but the dancing may well be better. Do you know if there are any worthwhile young nobles I should keep my eye out for in either the tournament or the dancing? Or any I should keep my eyes off?"

"I think that is something you and I should talk about in private," Cyrenna said. "Don't you? There's too many around who could take offense at such discussions in mixed company."

"We were glad to, it's a honor" Sharra said when Lord Corbray thanked them. She listened carefully to Ser Lyn's complaints; it was worrying.

Sharra greeted both the Longthropes and Manderlys. The Manderlys were particularly interesting to her, being all the way from the North. She curtsied to Lord Manderly. "Welcome to the Vale, my Lord! We are very happy to have you here. I hope all is well in the North"
She smiled at Wynafryd. "There are some lovely views here in the Vale, I hope you get a chance to see them."

Perhaps there was something to be done about this as Lord Stormwood and his house was the other house from outside the Vale that had been invited to the wedding as guests of the Corbrays. Maybe for this very reason.

"The North thrives," Lord Manderly said. "And we are grateful for this well-timed invitation."

"That would be wonderful," Wylla replied to Sharra's comment about seeing the views of the Vale. The 14-year old's hair was dyed a garish green. She then embraced Gyllen. "Will you show me all of these lovely views my friend?"

"Of course," Gyllen replied as she returned the hug with an apologetic look at Sharra.

The Belmores and Hunters and were the two final houses of that caravan. And as the day continued, the Moores and Waxleys arrived. And later followed by the Hardyngs under their field of red and white diamonds.

Lord Cameron Hardyng, a couple of years younger than Corwyn, and a true knight rode next to his darling wife Gella. The very handsome Harrold, quite likely the best-looking boy in the Vale, was not only the heir to House Hardyng, he was also second in line to House Arryn. Strangely traveling with his family instead of with the Waynwoods where he is a ward. His little sister, Branda, was also there as was Cameron's older sister. Together with knights and servants, the group was a total of 21 people.

"I'm so glad to hear that" Sharra says warmly to Lord Manderly. "It our honor to have you here. If there's any news of the North you'd care to tell later, I'd love to hear it."

She smiles at Wylla. "I just love that hair color, Lady Wylla. Sometime maybe I'll ask my Lady mother if she'll let me try something like that"

"Certainly," Lord Manderly said. "I'm sure there will be plenty of time over the next couple of days."

"Thank you," Wylla said. "I can help you with some dyes if you like."

After the Hardyngs came at various times the Ruthermonts, the Redforts, and the Donnigers. They were followed by the Graftons under the banner of their burning tower. Together with the Belmores and the Hunters, they were the only major Vale house attending the wedding. Even the Arryns, who had ordered this wedding were stuck in King's Landing and weren't coming.

Lord Gerold Grafton was a big and strong man, but not as tall as Galad obviously. He and his wife Lady Agnes were both in their early 50s. The seed was strong with the Grafton family and all of his children shared the dirty blond hair of their Lord.

Some would suggest that his imagination was lacking as his three sons were called Gerrick, Garth, and Garrett. But none would suggest that to his face. Power is power. And with control of the only city in the Vale. And an important trade city at that. They had power.

And as a display of that power, they were traveling with ten knights, more than any other family had arrived with. And squires and servants and archers in addition to that. For a total of over 30 people.

Gerrick, the heir, was in his late 20s and recently widowed. He had no children.

Where the family was dressed more opulently than other visitors while they were traveling, Garth, the 20-year-old middle son, was dressed in red. His pants and jacket embroidered in gold. A wide-brimmed hat, the left brim turned upwards, was also decorated in gold. On his hip he wore a sword with a hilt made of ivory crafted into the shape of a dragon. And over all that, he wore a mantle of peacock feathers. He had an elegant mustache covering his upper lip that turned down just beyond the edges of his mouth. He also had a small triangular patch beard on his chin. And in his left ear was a drop-shaped pearl earring and it too was decorated in gold. For him, opulent was an understatement.

Ser Donnel Longthorpe and Gwayne Elesham were the two premier knights traveling with the family and they would certainly participate in the joust.
This message was last edited by the GM at 08:10, Mon 30 Nov 2020.

"I would like that, Lady Wylla" Sharra said happily.

She knew it was important to make a good impression on the Graftons, given their power. "It's just lovely to see you and your family, Lord Gerold. Thank you very much for coming. I hope all is well at home!"

"Will you be joining the joust, Lord Garth?"

"Likewise Lady Sylvayn," Gerold said. The Seven giveth and the Seven taketh away. Things are as we deserve them to be. Don't you think?"

"Oh no," Garth said. "Jousting is for those with a need to prove how good they are. Like my brother," he looked at his older brother. "I know who I am and I have nothing to prove."

There was a quick change in Gerrick's eyes, but just as quickly it was gone. He was on his best beavior.

A cloud came over Sharra's expression. "The loss of my father is a difficult one for us all. But I know he is with the Father Above, and that my brother will rule justly. The Seven will watch over us."

She brightened at the talk of jousting. "Oh, I see. Well, I'm sure I'll enjoy watching the jousting, I always do." She smiled at Gerrick.

"I am sorry for your loss," Gerold said. "And therefore even more appreciative for you hosting this wedding."

"Yes, it is a spectacle," Garth said about the jousting. "And very enjoyable to watch. Perhaps I will have the honor of watching it with you." He carefully takes Sharra's hand and slowly raises it so that he can kiss it. But moves slowly enough that Sharra can remove her hand if she wants to without either of them losing face.

"Thank you, my Lord, it is kind of you to say" Sharra said to Lord Gerold appreciatively. "This happy event has done much to restore our spirits."

Sharra blushed as Garth kissed her hand. It was very gallant of him, but rather forward. "Perhaps, Lord Garth."

"I'm looking forward to it my lady," Garth said and bowed a little as he and his family moved on.

After the Graftons came the Templetons and the Herseys. And after them, the Waynwoods arrived.

The widowed Lady Anya Waynwood had a distinct air of nobility and was accompanied by her six children, inlaws, and several grandchildren. Some of her grandchildren were older than some of her children.

Morton, her firstborn and heir, was twice as old as her second child Jayde, the only other of her children that were married, and the twins Donnel and Kella who were two years younger than her. And the two youngest, Wallace and Lyanna, were still teenagers. 15 family members in total and twice that in servants and knights, including their knight paragon Ser Robert Stone. And their Maester Allar.

And the family offered their greetings to their hosts.
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:42, Fri 27 Nov 2020.

After the Waynwoods had greeted their hosts, there was only one house left. The Stormwoods.

Sometime later a runner arrived from the gates.

"Milady," he said. "A house that isn't on the guestlist has arrived with House Stormwood. They are Dornish and Lord Stormwood claims they are Princess Arianne of House Martell and her retinue. What are we to do?

This was a problem. For though there were enough rooms for another House, additional rooms had not been prepared. Nor had food been prepared for them.

Sharra greets each family warmly, trying to establish a balance between being a good hostess and not appearing happy to an unseemly degree so close to her father's death.

"Princess Arianne? What would a Dornish princess want here?" Sharra responded to the runner, stunned. They were an awfully long way from Dorne. "Well, we must give them hospitality, it is our duty to our fellow nobles and to the Seven. My brother doesn't use his chambers any more now that he's moved in to my father's chambers. We can give his room to Princess Arianne right away. Start preparing rooms for her retinue; that may take a while, but since they arrived unexpectedly and the Princess is accommodated, they can hardly complain. As for food, give them most of what you were preparing for my family. We'll have a light meal and finish in private later. Most of our time will be spent socializing with our guests instead of eating, anyways; there's ever so many to talk to."

The runner bowed to Sharra and quickly returned to the gate.

Shortly afterward the two houses arrived together.

At the head of one column was Lord Tormon Stormwood, riding under his banner with a green background and a black raven with wings displayed on the top and a gray wall at the bottom. He was in his late 40s. And were Garth Grafton had been ostentatious in his display of wealth, Tormon was quietly reserved, but still rode in an outfit more expensive than any outfit any of you owned. And more expensive than that of Garth Grafton who had worn the most expensive outfit you had seen today. At his hip was a thin blade with a dragonbone hilt. Most would consider the blade too thin for a warrior and most likely worn only for ceremonial or decorative reasons. But Cat had a blade just like it, only not as expensive, and she had used hers to kill with. Next to the blond and blue-eyed lord rode a Dornishwoman with flaming red hair. She was about half his age in her mid 20s.

At the head of the other column rode one of his nephews and next to him rode a beautiful Dornishwoman. Both of them in their early 20s.

Tormon dismounted first and greeted the hosts. He then introduced some of those traveling with him after they had dismounted too. The observant redhead was never far from his side. He started with the beautiful Princess Arianne Martell and her betrothed, his nephew, Korpen Stormwood. The rest of her column were male and female Dornish warriors and servants.

He then introduced his brother Konnor and Konnor's wife Darla. And their other children, Loren who was 18 years old and Cassandra, in her mid 20s. Making apologies that their other unmarried daughter Alys unfortunately had been unable to accompany them. The two boys and their father were armed and armored as the knights that accompanied them.

The rest of his column were knights, squires, archers, and servants. He did not introduce the Dornishwoman next to him.
This message was last edited by the GM at 11:50, Mon 30 Nov 2020.

"Thank you," Tormon said to Gyllen. "Our meeting in King's Landing has changed everything."

"I'm glad to hear that," Gyllen replied. "And I'm assuming that your invitations have something to do with that?"

"They do indeed."

"I was able to get Lord Manderly down here so that you can talk to him."

"Excellent. I'm looking forward to that."



Mutton has been turning on a spit all day. It has been marinated in spices and crusted with salt. There are roasted potatoes, carrots, parsnips, and turnips. Onions baked in gravy. Loaves of freshly baked bread with butter and honey. Wheels of pale, sharp cheese. And there is plenty of ale and wine. Watered down for the children.

There were hundreds of people in the great hall. Food for everyone. Well almost. But Sharra had taken care of that.

People were talking. Catching up, if nothing else. In the din and the heat of the Great Hall. As well as the delicious smelling food. There was much hustle and bustle of moving servants and guests. And as the night progressed, there would likely be more.

The tree siblings, Vandrose, Vardan, and Sharra were the only Sylvayns seated in the High Seat This evening. With Lord Sylvayn seated in the middle with Princess Martel to his left and Lord Corbray to his right. Sharra was seated on the Princesses left, making this the most beauty-dense area of the hall, but where Sharra was demure, Arianne was anything but. Diverting more eyes to the exotic beauty than the local flavor. Vardan was seated on Lyonel's right.

And Lord Colin Melcolm, the widowed father of the groom, was seated on Sharra's left. A man in his early 50s, a few years older than the siblings' father Devon who passed away not long ago. He has a neat gray beard and is one of the tallest guests at the wedding. As well as Lord of Old Anchor, a port town not far east of Arrowmark.

Out in the Hall, Cat was seated opposite Clarice Melcolm, the younger sister of the groom. The two women shared much. Both were 18 years old, athletic, and combat trained.

Galad had been seated with the groom, Darke Melcolm. The heir of Old Anchor. He was black-haired where his sister was blonde. A warrior like his father before him. Though not quite as large as Galad. And a knight from House Corbray, Ser Argos Moore.

Gyllen had been seated with Lady Anya Waynwood, one of the most powerful women in the Vale. As well as her ward Harold Hardyng, the most handsome man in the hall, though still only 17. As heir to House Hardyng and second in line to House Arryn, he was one of the most important men of the coming generation.


[OOC: I've placed some of you near others. With the exception for those in the High Seat, there are others near you too. Feel free to decide who those are yourself if you want to interact with them too.]

Sharra smiles around the table. She was always cheerful and good-natured, so she wasn't jealous to be upstaged by Arianne. Well, only the tiniest bit. She said happily to the princess "It's an unexpected honor to have you with us, Princess Arianne. You have come an awfully long way. I hope everything went well on your journey!"

"It absolutely did," Arianne said. "My father, Doran Martell the Prince of Dorne recently decided to bind house Stormwood to ours. I was to marry one of Lord Stormwood's nephews and I traveled north to pick the winner." Her eyes went to Korpen and she smiled. "And I found quite the winner. It is an unexpected delight to experience your northern customs and traditions while I am here."

"That large man over there," she was looking at Galad. "Do you know who he is?"

"Oh, that's wonderful!" Sharra said, surprised but happy. She smiled brightly at the Dornishwoman. "Congratulations! I hope you will be very happy together and I shall pray that the Mother blesses you."

"Why, that's Galad Hunter, one of the knights of our household. Strong and valiant, even by knightly standards" Sharra answered.

"Thank you," Arianne said and returned Sharra's smile. "I'm sure we will be and I am grateful for your thoughtfulness. My father sent me only old and ugly men for several years. I am glad that he finally sent me someone that I could actually accept. How are things going for you on the marriage front?"

"Galad Hunter? I've never seen anyone that large before. I would certainly want to make his acquaintance at some appropriate moment."

Sharra blushed. "Oh, some of the other Vale nobles are gallant, but so far I'm not aware of any serious suitors. I suppose my Lady Mother will tell me when the time is right"

"I'll be glad to introduce you!" she said warmly.

"Thank you," Arianne said. "I'm lookig forward to that."

She then leaned a little closer to Sharra and whispered so that only she could hear.

"And if you want to play and need my help. Just point him out to me and I will make him come to you. Little is as satisfying as playing."

Sharra kept herself from gasping in shock. Dornishwomen were just like stories said they were. "That's a very kind offer" she replied shyly, keeping her voice down. "You are very brave, Lady Arianne. I'd be afraid my Septa would find out."

Sharra looked around to make sure no one else could hear.

"As your guest, it is the very least I can do to repay you for all of your hospitality," Arianne whispered. "And if fear is your foe, let me assure you that I will make sure that your Septa will not find out. We are the closest allies in this."

On Sharra's left, and at the edge of the table, Lord Collin Melcolm, father of the groom, had been seated. As Sharra had been busy conversing with Arianne, he seemed to have focused on his food. Could he have heard?

On Arianne's other side was Lord Sylvayn himself and he seemed to be enthraled in an conversation with the father of the bride and the younger Lord Sylvayn on the other edge of the table.

Corwyn Sylvayn, the uncle of the three Sylvayn siblings seated in the High Seat, brother of their father Devon who was Lord Sylvayn until his death a few months ago, was the most famous person in the hall.

He had saved the life of their liege, Lord Jon Arryn, during Robert's Rebellion. So obviously he was known and respected throughout the Vale. But his fame had spread throughout the Seven Kingdoms. The fact that he even had been friends with him and his two wards, King Robert Baratheon and Warden of the North Eddard Stark, did not diminish his glory.

He was now seated near Lord Tormon Stormwood, the head of the house in which he had been fostered.

Hrokar Cragborn, the 16-year-old son of the Sylvayn banner house, was seated in between Clarice Melcolm, the 18-year-old daughter of Lord Melcolm and younger sister of the groom, and Garrett Grafton, the 16-year-old son of Lord Grafton. None of them heirs to their fathers' houses. But the mountain clan followed absolute primogeniture, so his older sister Gyllen would be the next head of the house, and not the agnatic primogeniture the rest of the Seven Kingdoms followed.

Well, with the exception of Dorne. Hrokar's eye wandered past the red-haired Dornishwoman that had been a shadow of Lord Stormwood since they had arrived at Arrowmark and to Princess Arianne Martell, heir to House Martell and the most beautiful and exotic woman in the hall.

Young Hrokar's most prominent features were his eyes. One was green and the other slate gray. With three small moles forming a triangle next to the corner of the gray eye. But to those in the know, his dire wolf companion was the most out of the ordinary aspect about the teenager.

[OOC: Corwyn and Hrokar both feel free to post IC.]

"My good Lord of Stormwood. Tormon, it does my heart good to see you and your's here." Corwyn said with a tone of great familiarity. "And with unexpected, though no less welcome, company." Corwyn offered a kind, yet charming smile to the fiery haired woman. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance Lady..." Corwyn let the word hang lightly in hopes she would offer her name.

  Corwyn was middle aged man whose hair and neatly trimmed beard were starting to show the signs of silvering with age. He was not the largest man in the hall by far, but he was muscular, strength of arms through training and battle, though a slight thickness in the middle from comfortable living and too much drink in recent years. As this was a feast he dressed in finery of the Sylvayn colors rather than armored as some had chosen to do.  'Strangers are friends you've not had the pleasure of drinking with yet.' he would likely say if asked, and perhaps put too much trust in that belief.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:59, Sun 24 Jan 2021.

"Corwyn," Tormon said. "It's been too long." Tormon's blond hair was short, but not as short as Corwyn's. And his blue eyes seemed to see everything. All the way into your soul.

"I am Meleys Sand," the female said. She was very athletic and very lithe. Still in her soft leather armor. She was clearly a warrior even though she only seemed to be armed with knives. Tormon was still in his traveling clothes too, but then those were still more fine and expensive than what was being worn by the other nobles, even though most of them had gotten the chance to change out of their traveling clothes.

But his outfit was still tasteful. Though in passing Corwyn had heard someone comment on Tormon's need to show off his wealth. And his house had indeed become richer under his leadership. As well as more influential and a stronger military might.

For the past 400 years, every lord of Stormwood had had Targaryen blood, though it wasn't as visible as it was in House Sylvayn. Most of them looked more like the Andals that had invaded their lands millennia ago. And they had married them too. And the first daughter of an Andal house that married into the Stormwoods all that time ago had been of House Sylvayn.

But despite their Targaryen blood. Despite having sided with the Targaryens during the War of Conquest when they seized six of the seven kingdoms. During Robert's Rebellion, they sided with their first liege, Baratheon. Both times they had sided with the aggressor. Both times they had been victorious.

Their house was bigger, stronger, and better than it had ever been before. Well, their lands had never changed since their house had been formed. And their military might had reached their current level before, 360 years before the Conquest. But had then lost it to madness 300 years later. But since the formation of their House, it had never been better off than it was now.

"My brother thinks I need a bodyguard," Tormon said as he looked at Meleys. Brother obviously referring to Lord Anders Yronwood, his best friend and the current head of the house where Tormon had been fostered.

 "A pleasure, my dear." Corwyn offered Meleys before returning his attention to Lord Stormwood. "Wise counsel as lord of your house, one might say. I sense you are not terribly in agreeance though?" Corwyn sipped wine from his goblet as he gave Meleys an appraising glance, though whether of her appearance or some measure of her potential martial skill might be anyone's guess. Unlike others might in the Vale though, he seemed completely unphased by the idea of her being able to protect Tormon however.

Just the possibility that Lord Melcom could have overheard and thought Sharra was going to run off with some boy has her just dying of embarrassment. "How are the tournaments in Dorne, Princess Arianne?" she asks. "I always love watching them".

"Who would want to kill me," Tormon asked Corwyn. "We are at peace. I'm the Lord of a small House. I have no enemies." As he said the last sentence, he trailed off a little. As if he recalled something. "And talking about that, Godric sends his condolences for your brother. We all are of course. He was looking forward to seeing you in King's Landing. And if everything goes well here, I might have some interesting news for you about my nephew."


"We do not list, obviously," Arianne told Sharra. "But we fight and we have archery contests. And we drink." And then returning to her whisper. "And we play." And returning to her normal tone of voice. "So what do you do here for fun?"

As Hrokar sat at  the table, he silently reminded himself to, in his father's words, "Act appropriately and don't scare the lowlanders." He alsmost chuckled remembering the conversation, but, he caught himself and only let a slight smile show...so slight that it was just the marginal upturning of his lips on the left side of his mouth.

"Pardon my slight tardiness," he addressed the table as he settled in his seat. "I had to see to my pack's well-being and I just lost track of the time."

He looked at each person around the table, making sure to make eye contact.  Some might say that was a touch forward, but, Hrokar had learned long ago to read people's reactions to his appearance.  It helped in figuring out just how a conversation might go.

"Your pack of what," Garrett asked. He had dirty blond hair and bright eyes. He was slightly taller than Hrokar, but significantly lighter. He was dressed like most of the noble guests who had changed out of their traveling clothes after they arrived. He was not armed.

Hrokar had been looking at the lady next to him when  the young man next to him spoke.  He turned his head, slowly and looked him over.

"My pack," he started as there eyes locked. There was a glint in Hrokar's eyes, mirth, happiness...it was clear he enjoyed this topic.  "You might know something of my family, our hounds...but, the odds of you knowing much about me are pretty slim. I mean, I am no Ser Corwyn," he nods his head in the knights direction as he spoke.  "I," he continued, "have three companions, my friends, my pack.  A large wolf I saved as a pup and two of our families war hounds.  I trust them, they trust me, they are my brothers, my pack..." His tone softened and his words trailed off.

He smiled, and turned his head to where he could glimpse some of the others at the table, "I hope I answered your question and didn't bore you all..."

The handsome Ser Argos Moore was seated straight across the table from Hrokar. The green in his eyes was the same as the green in Hrokar's. The dark-haired man was only 19 years old, but still one of the more skilled knights of House Corbray. And though he had worn both sword and armor when he arrived with the bride's house, he now wore neither.

Diagonally to Hrokar's right and across the table from Garrett, was Loren Stormwood. The youngest of that House attending the wedding. Blond and blue-eyed like the rest of them. The Andal blood first infused into the House by the Sylvayns was stronger with them than the Valyrian blood that had been infused into the Sylvayns.

And across the table from Clarice was Cat, the beautiful, blonde 18-year-old ward of House Sylvayn. Hrokar likened her to a wild dog in his mind, though due to her name and build, most used feline comparisons. A wild dog from the Iron Islands pretending to fit into a more civilized land. Similar to Hrokar himself, though for different reasons.

There were others further away at the table, many, more or less surreptitiously, looking at the Sea Cat, one of her more polite nicknames. Argos, who was seated next to her, didn't seem to be interested in her. Looking only at her while in conversation as was polite.

"Dogs of war," Garrett said. "Yes, I should have known."

"My uncle just returned with a few hounds from the Reach," Loren said.

"No man of honor goes to war with dogs," Ser Argos said. "Hunting certainly, but war is a man's job. Not dogs." As he finished speaking, Argos was looking straight into Hrokar's eyes. And it wasn't clear if he was talking about Hrokar's brothers or about Hrokar himself.

"Boys will be boys," Clarissa said. "Always wanting to know who the top dog is."

"And never realizing that it's the bitches that make all the rules," Cat said.

Hrokar smiled, not quite a predatory smile, but not a bright and open smile either.

"The ladies," his smile softened as he glanced at them before returning his gaze to Ser Argos, "are, of course, correct.  Men will preen and puff themselves up to try to outshine other men.  I think it is a mating instinct," he laughed.  "We have this need to be better than other men instead of just accepting who we are," he continued, "but, in the end, we will tend to do what the women in our lives want us to do."

"Honor, Ser Argos, is such an interesting concept.  I believe in the honor of living ones life.  When a person can look at you and know your word is strong and that your loyalties are as well, that is honor...but, what is honor on the field of battle?  One life versus another life and, at the end, the man who survives is what matters."

"A simple scenario for you to consider, Ser," he took a sip of water, "You are charged with protecting a woman of your house.  Another man confronts you, his intent could be to kill, rape, or take your charge.  This man gets the better of you...you can choose to continue fighting honorably and, most likely you will die and your charge becomes chattel for your adversary," he paused, "OR, you can take an action that might seem dishonorable, but leads to your and your charges survival...What is more honorable, keeping your word to your liege and saving your charges life, or dying and letting them be taken?"

He let his words sink in and could see the young knight thinking, "You see," he continued, "too much honor, or pride, in combat, just leads to a man becoming meat," he speared a bit of mutton and ate it, "for the beast," he finished.

He continued to look into Ser Argos' eyes as he spoke, but, as he finished, his gaze wasn't cruel or mean...just an honest, appraising look.

His eyes brightened after a moment, "Ahh," he said, "another thing for you to consider.  A knight rides a trained war horse into  battle.  As the knight fights a man to his side, the horse uses its hooves to kill a man the knight did not see.  How is that more honorable than the knight who fights on foot with his trained war hound.  Both animals are trained for war and both give the man fighting an edge...If you would like, Ser Argos, I can take you to meet my pack after we eat.  Maybe seeing them might change your perspective...a little," he added

"That is a false dichotomy," Ser Argos said. "Honor will prevail. Without honor, there is no life."

"Horses are noble creatures. Dogs are not. It makes all the difference in the world. And I have no interest in your dogs."

"Oh, if you haven't see a joust, I hope you can while you are here. It's really thrilling" Sharra said enthusiastically. She thought for a moment when Arianne asked her what they did for fun. "Oh, we dance, we enjoy music, we go riding. Cat likes to fence, but I don't do that. Is music very different in Dorne?"

"I'm looking forward to the joust," Arianne told Sharra. "If for no other reason than to see how you northerners fight."

"Why don't you come to my wedding and you will see," Arianne told Sharra.



"I wouldn't mind meeting your pack," Loren told Hrokar. "If that's an open invitation."

"Me too," Clarice said. "Having a trained dog or two could never be wrong."
This message was last edited by the GM at 11:11, Fri 12 Feb 2021.

Hrokar nodded a little at Ser Argos' words, and then chuckled softly, "There was life long before there was the concept of honor...however, friend Argos, I truly hope that when your time comes to make that choice, your honor sees you through."

He sat back and, looked to Loren and Clarise as they spoke.

"Of course," he smiled broadly, "You are both welcome to meet them.  And, Lady Clarise, hounds make wonderful companions for man or woman.  They are loyal, strong, and can give you that unconditional love that you may not receive from any other."

"Well they are definitely better than marrying a Corbray," Clarise said. "Fortunately my brother had to bite that arrow. If they would have forced me to marry Florian instead, I would have killed him."

"I hope we can watch together!" Sharra says warmly. "I should be very honored to attend your wedding, Princess, but I don't know if I would be allowed to... Dorne is far away"

"Of that, I am very aware," Arianne said. "I have tried for years to convince my father to let me travel to the north and failed. And Lord Stormwood succeeded on his first attempt. Not that he hasn't had northern Lords come to propose, but all of them have been old and ugly. Now at least I have someone that is young and strong. And very good at playing." The last sentence she added in a whisper.

"I'm sure there are ways to convince your brother. Don't you think?"

A attractive woman in a Mummer's dress for an audience of higher station walks out with a case, limping badly from the right leg and hip, with a odd case and a servant brings a seat. Bowing to the main table and then her household and the others she sits and takes out an odd instrument it is a double stringed instrument, a mandolin no, but Bravossi by the style and places it in her lap the instrument against her as she places her hands into position.

"My good and kind Lords, ladies and honored guests I'm a retainer of House Sylvayn on this happy occasion a wedding to be done and a crowd of their family and friends. I honor the betrothed couple with a song of romance to be my gift to the beautiful bride-to-be and her husband. May the gods bless them and their houses.," Auriel begins to play a ballad using both hands one string set high notes and one low her hands skilled as she sings. Her accent is Braavosi.

THE MOONS EMBRACING ARMS

The moon astride the night and starry sky where the gods look down and smile,
on loves sweet kiss and loves reply as across the world the lovers look on high,
and two who wed will have bound to her for common or mighty her joy be found.
With light hearted and swooning the love affirming upon moons light may joy fill the
world and dark shadows repealing beauty that is love be found.

Dance oh dance gentle folk be happy and mighty lords your alliances be making ... may all good things in life be found!

(audience is urged to repeat twice loudly and happy)

It goes on for several stanzas the last a bit bawdy one for the men and the last for the ladies about the wedding first act of love. Its more enjoyment in the first time and asking the gods blessings. It is in marriage a sacred and good act after all. And the last for those seeking love very tender. Audience repeated parts the same as the first and three times at the end. And her flourishes and instrumental work required clearly a good deal of hard work to master.

She stands with difficulty and bows hoping it was pleasant enough and not offensive.
This message was last edited by the player at 13:25, Fri 12 Feb 2021.