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frankenfreak
Feb 16, 2007

Coming from the deeps of the Frankenwald to haunt you


Deria Tamas

Deria's eye grow wide and her smile fades, giving way to a look of disbelief as she hears the news. After a moment, she exhales. "That is great news. I can't thank you enough for letting me know." She pauses for moment, trying to find the right words before settling on: "I better get caught up with Steffon, then, to make sure I am there."

She leans in for a quick hug and turns to get going quickly, but catches herself before she gets far. "Lets walk back together, it's less conspicuous that way", she says with a playful smile. Returning to a conversational tone, she asks: "Now tell me who do you think will win the joust. Me, I know the names, but can't tell who of them is good with a lance." She walks back towards the busier parts of town, making conversation to look as nothing in particular had happened. At same point, she bids farewell to Lady Rheya: "I'll have to part ways here, I'm afraid. If I know my cousins, they will be meeting the Daynes as soon as they can."

Deria turns towards where she saw the Dayne pavillion earlier. She walks slowly, thinking about why Rheya would tell her what she had told her. What has she to gain from it? Or who has to gain from telling Rheya to tell her?

Cunning(Logic) to think about this: 4d6k3 10


Whatever was behind this, bending the knee is a price she is willing to pay. Now was the time for peace - and for preparation. As she closes in on the Dayne pavillion, she realizes that her cousins might very well think differently about this. They had been talking a lot about Gidden Dayne's surrender and a Dornishman might see things differently.

The frown that had curtly furled her brow relaxed as she catches sight of Mykal and Steffon. She puts on a friendly face again as she approaches. "Greetings, ser" she greets the knight they're talking to, "I hope you've found my cousins to be good company." She turns her head to Steffon, expecting him to properly introduce her.

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Green Bean
May 3, 2009


Mykal Tamas

Mykal kept up the stream of praise, starry-eyed and effusive. "Well, I will certainly be cheering for you during the tourney proper. At least until you should face my brother, of course." He laughed and clapped Steffon's back affectionately.

He turned around as he heard Deria enter. "Ah, my Lady, good to see you. Lady Deria, this is Ser Orland Dayne; Ser Orland, this is Lady Deria of House Tamas. I dare say you're here to fetch my brother for business, are you not?"

WereGoat
Apr 28, 2017



Seban


NutritiousSnack posted:

Franklyn laughed merrily along with the others but stopped when noticing the bit of tension and sorrow briefly. Years of being a merchant or the instinct that allowed him to be a merchant successfully for years had given him a knack for social cues and situations that even others didn't notice. He was all smiles again though when conversation resumed and it was clear this wasn't going to be discussed or elaborated on at least when was here. He had a knack for that too. Ann did too apparently as she switched along with uncle to business conversation.

"Beating off knights, if you forgive milady but if you'd forgive a little Flea's Bottom, I thought that was the point of squires." Ann said softly, causing a brief pause and then explosion of laughter, as Frankyln almost choked to death and chair begin honestly waddling. After three or so minutes more of weak follow ups from the rest of the group.

Pulling himself together, Seban turns back to the group in time to catch Ann's comment. He starts to laugh, before glancing back to Zehiya to check how she took the comment. Seeing no disapproval, he continues laughing, but stops quicker than usual, looking a little guilty.

NutritiousSnack posted:

Finally Matthew paused when Seban looked and apologized to him.

"It's more than alright to me milord, us smallfolk know the men who are too serve aren't always the most virtuous. But in this case I think you confuse the father for the son. Gawen the Elder, died from a fever infection three weeks ago, it's Gawen the Younger, the Young Dragon's...friend...that is inheriting the castle and getting the title of Warden of Stone's Pass. It was originally going to go "Black" Philip, hence why the old fart isn't even stepping foot into Castle Don Sgathaich. Though I don't know why, who bloody cares if the rumors of Gawem and Dareon are true, he's a swell lad and a fair knight. Paid me and all his servants well, and was always honorable and humble when it came to the lists. The uncle is still alive, Ser Luke, nasty as a viper that one. As for my wares well, I was highly sought after in the Reach but dislike the snobbishness. If you aren't at least the son of house hold knight you're less than a dog. If you're a landed knight, well then you're a person. I know we was always supposed to hate Dorne, but you pay just as well down here and don't spit on his and ask us to thank you for the pleasure..."

With Matthew's comments, Seban refocuses.
"I appreciate the correction, that would be an embarrassing mistake to make this evening."

Making mental notes to check on the figures mentioned when at the castle-

"If it's a Dornish House you like the sound of, house Tamas finds itself in dire need of a skilled smith. If it is an offer you are looking for I can give you one here, now."

He leans back and smiles, checking with a look to Franklyn that this line of enquiry wasn't stepping on his his toes. Reading Franklin's expression, he continues " We can discuss the details of what you need, but the offer is on the table."

Thinking on the man's comments of rude northerners, Seban pauses. It may pay not to be to pushy.

"You will be at the tourney, yes? For repairs and such? If you need time to consider this we can talk more then, and you can see the Tamas Lords in action, Lord Waylar, and Young Lord Mykal."

Persuasion (bargain): 6d6k4 19

Seban continued taking with the group for some time after, making a few other minor introductions as some more of Franklin's friends briefly passed by, sharing some stories of his time with Franklin, hearing some more of Franklin's, getting friendlier with Antoni and Ann before excusing himself and making his way back to the castle. His clothing stained from travel, he would need time to change out of his"business" clothing to look more presentable for the feast. And he had much to think on, useful information.

WereGoat fucked around with this message at Sep 16, 2017 around 07:47

Schizotek
Nov 8, 2011

I say, hey, listen to me!
Stay sane inside insanity!!!



Zehiya

NutritiousSnack posted:

Seban and Zehiya

Franklyn laughed merrily along with the others but stopped when noticing the bit of tension and sorrow briefly. Years of being a merchant or the instinct that allowed him to be a merchant successfully for years had given him a knack for social cues and situations that even others didn't notice. He was all smiles again though when conversation resumed and it was clear this wasn't going to be discussed or elaborated on at least when was here. He had a knack for that too. Ann did too apparently as she switched along with uncle to business conversation.

"Beating off knights, if you forgive milady but if you'd forgive a little Flea's Bottom, I thought that was the point of squires." Ann said softly, causing a brief pause and then explosion of laughter, as Frankyln almost choked to death and chair begin honestly waddling. After three or so minutes more of weak follow ups from the rest of the group. Finally Matthew paused when Seban looked and apologized to him.

"It's more than alright to me milord, us smallfolk know the men who are too serve aren't always the most virtuous. But in this case I think you confuse the father for the son. Gawen the Elder, died from a fever infection three weeks ago, it's Gawen the Younger, the Young Dragon's...friend...that is inheriting the castle and getting the title of Warden of Stone's Pass. It was originally going to go "Black" Philip, hence why the old fart isn't even stepping foot into Castle Don Sgathaich. Though I don't know why, who bloody cares if the rumors of Gawem and Dareon are true, he's a swell lad and a fair knight. Paid me and all his servants well, and was always honorable and humble when it came to the lists. The uncle is still alive, Ser Luke, nasty as a viper that one. As for my wares well, I was highly sought after in the Reach but dislike the snobbishness. If you aren't at least the son of house hold knight you're less than a dog. If you're a landed knight, well then you're a person. I know we was always supposed to hate Dorne, but you pay just as well down here and don't spit on his and ask us to thank you for the pleasure..."

Matthew's equipment is of superior quality, and if you want could be hired as an Artisan with your House Wealth

"Flea Bottom doesn't hold a candle to the vulgarity of the Vulture's Nest uncle, especially in it's current state. You pick up an odd mannerism or two ruling over city of whores and drunken louts. RIGHT AKIN!" She turns to look at her captain of the guard, who was busy negotiating the use of a stool from a hobbled old crone on the other side of the room. He didn't seem to have heard. "Never mind, useless that man... Uncle, it's been great seeing you but I think I'll be going. I'll see you at dinner I imagine."

Now that she was in contact with Tamas, she no longer needed a gang of armed thugs roaming around scaring everyone. On her way out she had Akin send her retinue home. Gods knew he demesne needed every loyal sword she had. Except Akin. Gotta have a little muscle.

Switching my Cadre to Cohort since my persuasion is no longer high enough and I didn't remember the requirements. I'll roll him up tonight.

Schizotek fucked around with this message at Sep 15, 2017 around 23:50

Epicurius
Apr 10, 2010


Steffon

"We are overwhelmed by your kindness, Ser Orland.", Steffon says languidly, and essays a shy smile. "Whatever happens between Lord Gidden and the man recognized as my half brother, know that you're always a friend of House Tamas." He gently puts his hand on the man's hand. Then Deria comes in. He prepares to make the introductions, but sees that Mykal has beaten him to it. For a second, he seems to tense up and his eyes narrow, but it might just be an illusion, because his face smooths out the next second. "Indeed, Sir Orland. This is my cousin Deria. Well met, cuz.", he says.

frankenfreak
Feb 16, 2007

Coming from the deeps of the Frankenwald to haunt you

Deria Tamas

"Well met, Ser Orland", she adds to the introduction. Turning to Mykal, she says: "I'm not here to fetch him, I just wanted to see if you got yourselves into trouble yet." She laughs at her jape as she looks for place to sit down or lean against. "And rest my feet for a bit."

NutritiousSnack
Jul 12, 2011


Deria, Steffon Mykal

" And I await the chance to meet your brother on the lists, though I hope I'm the one lucky enough to win it would be nice to see a native son of Dorne win. So you'll not be the only one cheering for another House my lord." Ser Orland says with a laugh, leaning back and letting himself enjoy being buttered up.

Orland leaves briefly to gather your dishes and hand them personally to cleaning woman. As he walks back he always ensures to help his servants as they pack back everything into the pavilion at least a little bit, directing her or lifting and handing something there. You notice the sun is beginning to set and your actual arrival into the castle will be approaching soon. While quarters had been presented for all of you, most of you if you so choose would be able to get your own accommodation in town, if you could find some at this hour, but all your party would be expected to arrive for dinner hosted by Lord Wyldflowers for King Daeron.

"But of course my Lady, excuse me for a brief moment" Ser Orland Dayne gets up as Deria Tamas approaches and bows slightly, before quickly getting an actual chair for her from inside the tent as she sits. " I'm sorry for my rudeness here, if I had known you were coming I would not have sent away the stew or seating for you, my apologies."

Before you could sit down however, a place skinned handsome man with thing defined features in his late teens approaches, a frown on his his face and his cheeks flushed with anger. His eyes, a brilliant lavender, are honed into daggers of hate as he seems to know who the three of you are. Ser Orland seems to recognize him immediately and goes to comfort him or just stop him from exploding. After about two minutes of tense talk the man storms into the Dayne tent while Ser Orland just approaches the three of you with an apologetic look on his face.

[b"]My apologies, my uncle Gidden is not in the mood to entertain quests. I apologize for his rudeness. Besides the time is getting late, and it would not do us any good too dally. I'm guessing Lord Wyldflower would considerate rude if any of us missed the feast he has made to honor our new king."[/b] Ser Orland says with a frown. " Lady Tamas, please allow me the honor of escorting you all to the feast, I need some way to do something to make up for uncle's and my rudeness."


You understand the very broad strokes of why Malfoy would tell you this. A combination of actually liking you and a desire to foster better relationships with the native Dornish Lords. They've used the stick and it has worked, but now is time for the carrot. You need both to rule. You have the feeling you are missing out the larger picture as to why though

Zehiya and Seban
All of the folk bid their fond wishes and goodbyes to Zehiya, merchants know better than not to observe a courtesy to a noble, especially when they've done no wrong to them. Great way to find trouble and lose possible dragons.

Really, thank you milord! I'll have to write a supply of what tools and supplies I need but it will be no trouble to get it by the time the tourney is. Thank the Seven I thought I was going to stay in the Reach forever. You will not regret this." Matthew said. The man looks at you excitably for a few moments, getting up from the table in hurry before stopping around and doing a curtsy bow, rushing out the door as quickly as his feet can. take him.

Aye, you made a good choice there friend. A diamond in the rough that one or is it an undiscovered gem? I'm too bloody drunk to be making metaphors. The man can barely spell out his own name but not only can he work a hammer, he's a damned fine teacher and manager. Smith's own son that one." Franklyn says. All of you continue making small talk for awhile, but to be honest outside of the personal news that deliver but trade and economic problems, they have no real complaints. Frankyln and the others are there to see if Lord Wyldflower would be willing to provide more trade routes. Ann trades under the bulk a house would require, obvious just starting on the long journey to her where he uncle has.

Enough time passes and the table begins to thin as the other returns to their lodging or meet other friends and family. A good thing night has fallen and Seban is needed else. It is bad manners and judgement to keep a king waiting.

Matthew of Pennytree is now an Artisan (Smith) Wealth Asset. As soon as you are back at Castle Tabas, you can use him as you see fit


All

It's almost just how you remember it. The walls a shiny, somehow bright black, red and colorful as rose, carpets everywhere. Tapestries and murals of Dornish landscapes depicting both the lush and green as the jungles and swamps of it, and dusty and arid and the vast jungles and mountains, found here. Landmarks and pivotal moments depicted in sculptures and painting hang in different places, but still hang in respect of the Tamas. Hell even the ceremonial weapons and arms of each house head and the champions of Tama are found hung exactly on the walls walls they had in the time of your forefathers. But all the reminders of you victories over the Targaryens have all vanished. Whether taken down just the visiting monarch as to not offend him or permanently you can not say. The one thing that truely looks good for good are your coat of arms, replaced by the flower growing out of the skull and the word "Blooming in Adversity."

As for the feast itself, along seven rows of tables there is at least three mummers juggling or doing simple but visible and entertaining tricks, a two singers on either end of it playing a favorite song from a region or popular fare like the The Bear and the Maiden Fair or The Dornishman's Wife. None embarrassed themselves and managed to be entertaining but some were more equal than other's as the saying goes. On each table was a roasted goose, bating in green beans, onions, and turnips while covered dark savory sauces whose smells just hovered by your nose and demanded, and roasted lamb, with potatoes and carrots, which despite the doubters looked to be delicious. Hell there was enough ale and wine to knock everyone there out flat on their asses. Alas this entertainment and food was not for you, your table was above them, with a short staircase taking you to a table to overlook all of them, feasting on pig and goat, while what sounded like the most talented of the harp players kept her mouth shut and played lightly while conversations where had.

A bald man with a pug nose and liver spot on his head, whisks you away as you enter. Remaining just ahead of you and flanking you to the side, the man angrily but quietly motions for servants and entertainers to move out of the wall quickly with with short angry motions of the hand. All the while of course his voice remained courteous and calm, more like that of an old man filling his time while fishing or the like. You make it the table with only one servant managing to drop a tray filled with chicken and various greens vegetables.

While the table is filled with about fifteen people, five stick out to you as the rest are children or quiet unassuming husbands and wives keeping their nose down while their partners talked. Teresa Yyornwood, a handsome dusky stern woman in her early fifties souped on some creamed vegetable soup while eyeing the other four the rest of you. Notably she sat alone with her husband long dead and the rest of her children under the eye of Tyrell at Sunspear. Ser "Black" Philip Eggers picked at a salad like he was a child playing at it, his nose arched and twitching as if someone had just passed gas. A man in his late forties, he had the face of a ghoul more than a man. His face was a pale olive, vein and angular like blades, with a sharp chin and cheeks that looked like they could cut fruit. He was clean shaven but thick black hair hung look that looked like a they had a tinge of grey. Poor Lord Edmund Wyl, just looked sullenly down on his plate occasionally eating something off his plate as he does so and occasionally grumbling something. The Redwyne, noticeable from the insignia on his purple and red tunic and thick curly red hair that lead all the way to a thick mane and beard was chatting up some small folk server, telling her where she could find his room tonight if she had the time. Lord Jeremy Luthal got up and bowed towards you our of habit before sitting back down when realizing the new change of status among everyone.

The figure that didn't catch your eye was the thin but noticeably muscled man with strawberry blonde hair and grape green eyes on your right, Everything about him just seemed bright and flowery. A friendly smile was seemingly permanently painted on his face, with how at ease and natural it seemed to him. He motioned and grabbed the hands of Deriah and Zehiya and showed them to their seats without word. The very model of chivalry. What made it amusing was the extremely muscled man with the face of a brute, with short cropped snow white hair and beard, next to him frowning over his shoulder. The man seemed to even less unenthusiastic then Lord Eggers.

"Forgive my manners for not showing you here myself. Was it a long journey from Castle Tabas" Lord Gawen asked earnestly, apparently not knowing it was just a two day ride on horseback.

NutritiousSnack fucked around with this message at Sep 17, 2017 around 01:11

Epicurius
Apr 10, 2010


Steffon

Steffon pokes at his food on his plate. Good as it may be, he lacks much of an appetite, and he eats lightly. His head has been down for most of the feast. His head comes up, though, as he hears the tune of The Dornishman's Wife. They would play that here? And now? Of all the times and places, they dare sing it now? His hand tightens on his knife. What sort of appetite can a man have at a feast of shame; a feast of humiliation?

So, he keeps his head down, saying little, until Lord Gawan speaks. Castle Tabas is two days by horseback, Lord Wyldflower,, he answers. Although sometimes, the journey is longer than others.

Epicurius fucked around with this message at Sep 17, 2017 around 06:07

WereGoat
Apr 28, 2017



Seban


Seban thought on Matthew's comments as he was led towards the table.

"Gawen the younger... Perhaps a more favourable lord if Matthew's comments are anything to go by. Still..." he thought, eyes narrowing slightly "thieves and kidnappers". And the children's placements as wards was determined before the late lord's death. "So who has them?" He knew that, as a minor member of the household they would likely not be held by Gawen himself. Perhaps an ally, or other member of the house.

Seban considered what Matthew has told him, and what he already knew. "Could it be... Ser Luke?"

Cunning to puzzle out who is likely to hold the children as wards.
Cunning (logic): 5d6 22

Sitting down next to Yamina, who had already left by the time he got to the room, Seban touched her arm wordlessly to get her attention (pointedly not given before that) and nodded over to Zehiya, making her aware of her niece's entrance. Thinking it best not to say more for now, he turned back to listen to Lord Gawen and Steffon speak further along the table.

Epicurius posted:

Steffon
Castle Tabas is two days by horseback, Lord Wyldflower,, he answers. Although sometimes, the journey is longer than others.

"The weather was favourable, and we made good time" Seban followed up, trying to prevent any uncomfortable silences.

Awful. He needed to make a much better impression.

"Lord Wyldflower, Ser" Seban smiled from Lord Gawen and the bearded man. "I thank you for your hospitality. And the tourney! I must admit I am excited to see you compete." Looking at Ser Luke "And you Ser?"

"I love these events, such a spectacle".

Persuasion (charm) : 4d6 10

Fuzz
Jun 2, 2003

Avatar brought to you by the
TG Sanity fund




Back at the inn, Waylar treated his two companions to a round of drinks, to help smooth away all the rough moods and feelings he had, returning to an occupied home with no title or lands. Then he ordered another round. Then another.

His mood was well lubricated by the time he and his companions arrived at the keep, throngs of nobles and guests all flitting inside. He takes a final swig of the small flask with the family crest on it, a gift from his late uncle, before handing it to Thick, "I'll try to return with a nose no browner than a Bravoosi harlot's nipples, my friend. Stay out of trouble, you two," he remarked in his rough Braavosi. Cracking his neck as he saw the House Tamas retinue reach the base of the stairs, about to enter, he steps out into the plaza and intercepts them before they enter the keep, patting Seban on the shoulder as he addresses his brothers...

"Lord Tamas," he bows his head low to Steffon, the boy now his lord, "it's good to see you again, and I should congratulate you on your new position... the late Lord Tamas would be proud," he refers t their Father by the man's formal title in such a public place... knowing these Targs, they'd throw a fit for him to refer to the man as Father in his brother's company. "Mykal, you are looking quite well. Seban, you've gained weight," he quips with a smirk, turning back to Steffon, "I've entered into the joust on behalf of our house, I hope I was not... presumptuous." The pregnant pause at that last comment was palpable. The alcohol did him no favors in hiding his disappointment and shame at having to ask permission like some mewling sycophant, and of his unseasoned younger brother, no less.

After pleasantries (or not) and introductions were exchanged, he accompanied the party inside and took a seat next to Lord Wyl, nodding his head briefly before sliding his goblet to the side as the wine boy came around to pour a cup.

Epicurius
Apr 10, 2010


Steffon

Steffon accepts Waylar's bow, and says, I thank you, Waylar, son of my father. I wish you luck in the joust, and have faith that you will do our father proud.

He looks at the assembled lords to see who will react and how.

Green Bean
May 3, 2009


Mykal Tamas

With Steffon talking to Waylar, he does not see Mykal give Waylar a sympathetic look from literally behind his brother's back. But Waylar certainly would, though it was brief and difficult to perceive for an outside view. By the time he turns his attention to the other lords, Mykal's expression has returned to polite but vague interest.

NutritiousSnack
Jul 12, 2011


"That isn't that long at all, how wonderful. With the weather it must have been a very pleasant a trip, I never thought summer could be this pleasant in Dorne." Lord Gawen Wyldflower said beaming in answer to Steffon and Mykal, his curly strawberry hair shaking as he gives off a slightly friendly chuckle. "Expect to see more in the near future Lord Tamas, especially at Castle Tabas. It's not only vital we handle this...bandit problem to clear up the trade between the Stormlands and Dorne, it's important for the smallfolk to know I'm their foreign lord is here to do more than line his pockets with their silver and gold, but to protect and aid them. I plan to do more than collect taxes and dues, I plan lending a helping hand and do good by the Father's example."

The bearded man let out a soft cough that cuts through the young lord's spiel and draws everyone attention at the table. Even the help which had been scurrying around seemingly utterly oblivious or utterly uncaring to anything being said at the table other than orders or firm requests stopped dead in their tracks at the sound of the old man's voice. All eyes were in him, but all other mouths closed including the young lord's, whose smile completely disappeared. For a moment the silence awkwardly just sat in the room like the smell of brunt food. The older man eyes furrowed for a moment, briefly twitching to the table itself and then to Seban and Deria. The Gawen's charming smile returned, but this much weaker and much less sincere. A cute facade nothing more.

"Ah yes...forgive my rudeness, please have a seat. I'm sure your all hungry after your travels. While the king will be joining us shortly he tends to dine privately as not to make his guests worry about decorum and manners when they just want to eat."Lord Wyldflower said cheerily and completely unconvincingly. It was well know Daeron had been attempted to be poisoned twice since his march to Sunpear and now refused to let anyone prepare his meals but the Kingsguard. Third times was the charm after all and Daeron refused to be done by either carelessness or fisherswives' wisdom.

"Lord Wyldflower, Ser" Seban smiled from Lord Gawen and the bearded man. "I thank you for your hospitality. And the tourney! I must admit I am excited to see you compete."

"I'm surprised to you hear that. How has word of those small little tourneys in the Crownlands and the Reach found it's way here? You're just trying to flatter me aren't you, just did your research well?" Lord Wyldflower said almost jumping out of his seat at this in a mixture of surprise and joy. He personally grabs a pitcher of wine off the table and offers to pour you a cup.

"Well good, can't get enough of that stuff. Ser Orland here might be the humble type, but that has never been my weakness. Quite the opposite. I am drat good with a lance, though I've yet to cross them with Ser Orland at all and can't wait the chance...are any of you entering the tourney?" He continues, until stopping briefly when he overhears Waylar telling his half siblings about his participation. "Well I guess you'll get too see either how good I am or how full of it by the morrow perhaps."

Looking at Ser Luke, Seban continues "And you Ser?"

"Surprised you learned how to use a knightly weapon like a lance. I thought you fought with the sellsword companies in Essos correct? I shame was hoping to see you in the Melee. Was never good with a lance myself, always was better with the weapons you'd actually see on the battlefield. Here I thought bastards like us grew up to be more practical" Ser Luke says gruffly, not bothering to veil his hostility that much. The bearded had barely given Seban a second of his cool disdainful glance, before looking over to Waylar after Seban asked his question.

This isn't up north, here we give our natural born children respect. Waylar is of nobility and the peerage, not a servant fetching you wine. You should not set a such a bad example for your nephew and our dear new liege Ser Luke. Thought you of all people would appreciate that cultural norm. Lord Egger, the Black Goat says from his side of the table. From here he looked pale as a skeleton, and his legendary black man was getting a bit of a grey tint, but his eyes were nothing but true steel as he stared down the old knight. His broad frame and muscles flexed a bit under as he laid his hands out on the table. " Don't worry I'll be entertaining enough for you, I'm plenty good with an mace or sword myself.

"Friends...uncle, relax. Let's not let wine and the excitement of tomorrow's tourney bring out the worst of our competitive natures. Waylar, I apologize for my dear Uncle's rudeness."Lord Wyldflower said in his continued chipper tone, that's becoming louder and more strained, but still somehow affable.

Aye,forgive me too much wine. Always drink too much before these bloody things." Ser Luke said, sitting down but still staring into the guys of Ser Philip.

The rest of the table continues on with small talk now, though it is unsteady and unnatural. Talk to just fill the air and hope it defuses the situation between the two older knights. A few eyes fall on Waylar, hoping that somehow he could do it, even if he was just an excuse for these two men to go at it.

OOC: Seban, you are positive it is Ser Luke Wyldflower who has your children

NutritiousSnack fucked around with this message at Sep 23, 2017 around 05:26

frankenfreak
Feb 16, 2007

Coming from the deeps of the Frankenwald to haunt you

Deria Tamas

Deria knew this was a conversation between men and, to some degree, lords. She knew better than to interject herself into it at this point. Instead she chats up Teresa Yronwood with some small talk. It is a bit awkward, though, as Deria's mind and ears are certainly more in the other conversation still.

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WereGoat
Apr 28, 2017



Seban


Seban smiles and graciously accepts the drink.

"Yes, you see right through me", raising his glass to lord Wyldflower "I must confess to bring curious about our new leige lord, the ravens were rather space on details."

With Ser Luke's dismissal, it cemented things in Seban's head. Everything clicked into place. It was him.

"S... Yes."

Trying to cover his temporary panic.
Deception: 2d6 12

Seban dabs his forehead of the sweat forming, and smiles at the table.

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