Well Dag'Tyr assumes Veratul won't lead him astray. After all, why else guide him to such a place?
And yeah one of the proper Covids does that to you. Usually the First day *cause the f*cker hangs around first, you get a raspy throat (like something stuck in it) at least it did for me and your bowels usually go 'oh feck no' mode. Then during nighttime my body went into what I call *killer mode (the hot/cold/hot/cold/hot/cold-regime), buzzed/delirious sense and the backache started). After that initial night it plummeted to a measily throat cough and drunk/hangover feeling, which you usually sleep off. Usually at day two or three at this point you're like wtf happened?
Dag'Tyr, touched the stone allowing its solemn silence and hard texture to connect wit his fingers. Veratul had offered him a portent. Though his was the God of Life and Death, he did not believe Veratul had saved him only to be lead into a trap and killed without fulfilling his purpose. He explained this to the others in the group. "With combined effort we could make it our shelter for tonight at least. Away from the elements and from prying eyes." He backed up the earlier offered idea by Fran and Vigil.
"We could pursue these pirates, but alas we know nothing of them. We have no numbers or know not what weapons they would be wielding. Also any warrior worth his or her salt here would argue that stepping into combat blindly could be a death sentence in and of itself. Whilst my God may rule over Life and Death, I believe one would not earn their favour and be honoured by thoughtlessly throwing their lives away. I believe now even more so than ever that we all may have a part to play in the grand plan of the Gods. As such might be the case, I will ask for Veratul's blessing in my prayer. To safeguard us and watch over us this night, as I intend to do every night. If there are those of cunning and stealth here that believe they can sneak closer for an observatory glance I will not hold them back, but I fear I can offer little aid in such operations." He patted his stomache. "For as you see, I would hardly succeed." He stated with a humorous smile, before offering another word of caution. "I do advice not to engage them, not at least, until we have a better understanding of who and how many we are facing." He said looking upon the youngsters. "No matter how brave you might believe yourselves to be, sometimes being patient offers you greater rewards." He stretched for a moment, cracking his knuckles as he regarded his tattoo's before offering a final warning. Also I would warn you all that though the Burial Mound may hold many riches, its price would be dearly paid if one would be cursed by it and I for one, as a Priest of Veratul, would urge you not to take from the dead without Veratul's explicit blessing." He calmly turned to Fran and Vigil. "Now Lady Fran, Honourable Vigil, if you would help me with moving the capstone after I am done praying it would be most appreciated." The Kin Du'Eld said. "For I fear I will not be able to move it by mine own strength."
After that he turned towards the capstone and raised his hands as he closed his eyes. His tattoo's clearly visible and the tips of his blue fingers stretched towards the heavens at first, before they were being lowered to the capstone. All the while Dag'Tyr performed a ritualistic prayer in a strange tongue. His tongue most likely. It was low and at times hushed into whisper and at other times rushed and strengthened with power, words strung together in song-like manner. All that those around him truly could understand was the name that was mentioned ever so often: Veratul.
Lady Symbelmune Skadi is by all accounts a graceful lady.
That being said she is as stubborn as they come. Her opinion once lost is lost forever and all that drama. And is not above salting someone’s field in a manner of speaking.
In short she bears her nobility well and is not afraid to let others know.
It is no wonder she became a Tempest Cleric seeing her unbridled noble fury. (Seriously keep her from demanding duels of honour)
However a lot of it is an attempt to mask her insecurities and worries. With more than just her life on the line, she attempts to hide her more nurturing feelings up until she can be certain no one actually sees it.
She actually cannot stand to see poverty and though she might scold a thief for picking her pockets, she attempts to at least aid them in some way.
Background ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔
A noble lady belonging to the Eladrin Tribe the Frost Sentinels. A most proud and hardy tribe living up the Mountain called: The Yzerun Peak.
At a young age Symbelmune showed her devotion to the God of Storms. She enjoyed watching the lightning dart across the heavens and run outside during one of the rain showers. So ultimately she was blessed to become a cleric of his. This showed itself when she went out to search for one of the tribe’s children. They had been caught unaware up the mountain as the storm had come rolling it. She ventured out despite orders to remain inside and with her practiced cantrip, had turned herself into a bright shining light so that in this manner she could guide the child safely back. Showing her little fear during nature’s violence, the God was impressed by her devotion and strength. Her love for her family and her fury when she was angry thus he blessed her with his gifts.
It was later during the last of her ‘adolescent’ years that her Grandmother explained to her that there existed an even more noble calling. Namely, that of the Mistborn Pact. It was a pact of old between two individuals. A pact their tribe had long since made with another powerful being. According to rumours a Fey of tremendous power. This pact had existed for thousands and thousands of years. All she knew was that the pact assured the peace for the tribe and the balance of nature for the Mountains and Forest below. In fact, those chosen considered it a great honour. To place the good of the tribe before themselves. Several ancestors had gone before her and all of them had left their tribes behind, never to return. Such a fate had been waiting for her since her birth. A Sign of Request had been found upon Tribal grounds and with it Guthala had known it was time for another union. Another Pact. The year after Symbelmune had been born and the mark had shown itself upon her forehead, glowing brightly. Upon the year she flowered a betrothal gift was send, but her grandmother had kept it, knowing she was still too young for such things. However when she reached adulthood she offered it to her. Telling her who it had come from. Conflicted, but not wanting to cause dishonour and grief to her family she quietly accepted her fate.
So when the promised day came, she bravely bid her family farewell and set off to an ancient spot called the meeting place. There she was to meet her betrothed and be wed to uphold the Pact. She reached the place without incident and camped there wondering when this 'husband' of hers was going to reveal himself. But no one came. When several days turned into weeks Skadi had had enough. She broke up camp and set out, she knew she would not be able to simply return to her family. As such could be taken in a wrong way, Fey being rather particular about such matters. Leaving a message explaining her departure behind she set off in hopes of finding answers and potentially finding her supposed betrothed. With only a betrothal gift as a lead to who she could be searching for.
Starter Equipment ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔
Set of fine clothes A signet ring A scroll of pedigree A game set: Dragonchess
Scalemail Warhammer Shield Light Crossbow Case with 20 bolts
Explorer's pack: Messkit Tinderbox 10 torches 10 days of rations waterskin 50 ft of hempen rope Bedroll Backpack
Amulet - Water Orb Betrothal gift - A silkspun scarf A purse containing 25 gp
Lord Domeric had taken it upon himself to smarten up his boys. He had pulled Finnegan away from Arystide and had dragged Brennan from Arnaud's side explaining to the young heir that he had needed his son to represent the family. The Gorlois's goodnatured heir had released him easily enough and all the backtalk he had received from Arystide was a set of raised eyebrows and a smirk that promised trouble. No doubt the boy would find a way to tease his sons relentlessly. It mattered not. The House needed to represent itself, appear proper afterall, he could hardly present them looking like vagabonds. So after ordering them to bathe and make something out of their wild heads of hair, he had two clean, well dressed young men standing next to him. Though, Lady Cyra still fussed with her shawl, knowing this would be a meeting to potentially set up their eldest son into his own castle and grounds. The whole problem with potentially the girl not being willing to enter this deal concerned her greatly.
Manfryd knew the detour was less than appealing to either daughter, but a match for Danelle was of the most dire importance. That House Redwyne was offering an alliance was something he could use. Especially if he were to lean more towards supporting the Targaryens when everything went down. Either way it came out the Lord of Harrenhal suspected all would be well for him. With one daughter married to a Targaryen heir, a few rumors to suggest it was to cover a scandal, and the other married to the Redwynes. It was possible that his house might find themselves in control of the Arbor if the Targaryens decided to have done with the Redwynes.
Not that these thoughts were on his mind as he bowed to the Lord Domeric, placing a delicate and stately kiss on the Lady Cyra's hand. "A pleasure to see you again, Lady Cyra. I do hope your offer of wine still stands?" He greeted the Lady as he clasped hands with the Lord. "May I present my daughters, Danelle and Elayne, and you must forgive our lack of appetite there was an unfortunate incident." Elayne flushed as she dipped a curtsy to the Lord and his family even as Danelle did. Danelle herself looked stiff and formal, but there was a cool mask of polite mannerisms over her face.
"A pleasure to meet all of you." Danelle agreed with a pleasant nod.
Lady Cyra offered them a curtesy aswell before signalling to one of the servants nearby, as the men bowed. "Lord Manfryd, with house famed for its wine, how could you imagine we'd be so cruel to keep it from our guests." She offered with a smile. Lord Domeric smiled warmly before gesturing to the raised dais, so they could take a seat. "It is an honour to meet the lovely daughters of Lord Manfryd. I am Lord Domeric and these are my sons; Finnegan and Brennan. We hope this unfortunate incident did not spoil your good taste in wine, we do hope the young ladies will partake? Unless something more sweeter is desired?" He asked as allowed Finnegan and Brennan to escort the ladies up the dais and have them seated, as a show of gallantry and good manners. As he allowed the servants to pour them whatever they desired they had sat themselves down strategically. Lord Manfryd would be flanked by both his daughters, with the boys on their respective left and right, seated on the ends were Lord Domeric and Lady Cyra. "Well, let us toast, to a bountiful tourney." Lord Domeric suggested as he raised his cup.
Finnegan calmly glanced over to his 'potential bride to be'. His father must have gone stark raving mad. The younger was pretty enough, but both were stiff and formal, rarely showing a crack of a personality. Maybe they had been instructed just like them. It wouldn't surprise him in the least. Honestly, getting married off was such a hassle. He doubted they actually wanted any of this. Finnegan was known as a good natured jokester, but this was more serious and quite frankly the one thing he had been dreading in his life. She wasn't too ugly, but even he had heard whispers of rumours. Whilst his father might pretend nothing was wrong, he wasn't the one potentially marrying into this family. He was. "I have to confess Lady Danelle, that I know next to nothing about you, perhaps you could tell me a little bit about your own preferences and what your life at Harrenhal is like?" He offered hoping to at least cease the uncomfortable silence that had fallen over the four of them. Brennan cast a curious look at Elayne. "I do hope this unfortunate incident was nothing serious?" He asked politely and softly out of genuine concern. "Not brigands, I hope?"
"A bountiful tournament." Manfryd agreed, his voice wry and amused. Afterall either way it went, it was hardly going to effect him if things went according to this new plan that was growing in his mind.
Elayne blinked away from her sister as she heard the question and smiled softly. "No, nothing so untoward. I was merely overwhelmed by the tournaments and got turned about." She blushed at admitting that, but it was all very true. "I've never been to one before and it is quite large."
Looking over Finnegan, Danelle smiled as her sister played her part. Pretty, genuine, and the mask she would wear when Harrenhal produced an heir. "My own preferences?" She adjusted a pearl string in her red hair, darker than Elayne's own. "I must admit that life at Harrenhal has much of what I enjoy. Hunting, riding, seeing to the accounts." Her smile was a thin thing as she mentioned the last. In truth, she did like to see and do the accounts herself, it kept her abrest of her father's plans and more able to foil him if she felt he was acting against her own interest. Of course, this was something she could not have foiled, as much as she had wished. "I enjoy wine as well, though our own fields are modest and more to keep our own taverns within Harrentown stocked." Taking the stem of her wine glass she admired the work openly. If she had to marry... a boy from the Arbor would do well for the current span of time, needlessly he could be discarded if it came to it. "Harrenhal life is quite, but there are pleanty of enjoyments to be had and it quite easy to travel about with the God's Eye feeding straight into the Blackwater Rush if you were to take boat. Riding, we have access to the King's Road which can take us most anywhere we wish to go. If we do not have something, Harrenhal can aqquire it. It leaves us a broad selection."
"What enjoyments and interest fascinate you, Ser-?" She hedged slightly as though unsure of which title to use.
Brennan nodded. "I can understand, such things can be quite overwhelming. I hope you were not too fearful when meeting us. After all, matches are easily made by parents, who don't always look to who their children actually prefer." He asked. "Though, I shouldn't say such things I suppose, I should instead compliment you on your dress. It is quite lovely, it does you justice, lady Elayne." He offered.
Finnegan listened, but smiled bitterly. "I see. No doubt our family offered you a good supply." He commented before he shook his head at her trying to adress him. "Just Finnegan will suffice, I am no Lord, nor knight of great valour. Just a wine merchant's son." He stated eyeing her calmly and carefully. "As for my enjoyments, I love the strong bond of family. The occasional teasings and feasts as well as the Midsummer Night Markets and the Masquerades at the Mermaids palace. But I suppose I enjoy being a 'nose' for the family." He joked, before he explained. "I can usually tell what's in the wine before I have drunk a drop."
Elayne's cheeks flushed and the younger sister looked down into her lap. Flattered by the compliment. "I thank you."
"An interesting talent and one that must server a 'wine merchant's son' well." Danelle agreed smoothly. "I must admit I have not seen this Mermaids palace, nor these masquerades, though they sound delightful. Harrentown does boast a harvest fair when we bring in out largest catches from the lakes and crops. Though I would suppose such a thing would not compare." She sighed and arched a brow. A family man who enjoyed wine. How very typical for a Reachman, the woman thought with sardonic humor. "Of course, our seat is set about with dark rumors." She shook her head and chuckled slightly. "False, most of them. Simply said, it has been nothing short of bad luck and the ill deeds of the Lords that have come before. I can attest that the halls are haunted only by our dear Elayne." Perhaps he could take that as agreement to the teasing.
Elayne flushed at the mention of her late night wanderings when she could hardly sleep and tried to not eavesdrop on her sister. It would be better to speak to the young man before her, have a nice conversation. Feeling her cheeks bloom with red again, she thought of another conversation with a pair of silver haired twins and her smile took a beaming quality. "Fearful? Not at all." It was hard to be fearful when your sister was the scariest thing at the table and you had just come from Summerhall and dined with dragons who were as perplexing and exasperating as nothing else! "No, forgive me Ser. I enjoy colors and embrodery and paint when I've the opprotunity. It tends to make my mind wander, however."
"Are these stitched flowers and border yours aswell?" He asked remarking upon them as he tenderly touched the border to point them out. "My cousins like similar occupations. Though they all have their talents. I know Odette is the best at embroiding, embrodery?" He said not certain what the word was as he never had really need of such language. Still he wanted to offer some comfort and familiairity to her. Before scratching his head and smiling warmly. "I suppose I am guilty of wandering about as well. Though cousin Arnaud isn't letting me daydream or wander for too long. Being is squire is honestly hard work and leaves little room for other things, but he teaches me a lot. I can only hope I will one day be as noble of a knight as he is and serve our house proudly." He told Elayne.
Finnegan smiled at that. "Oh I don't know how popular those harvest feasts of yours are. But our Midsummer Night Markets are held during the fairest weather of the summer. It all over the Arbor and the lit lanterns and other lights capture the towns in a most magical glow. There are bonfires and special rites during those nights. You have the strangest competitions. The Masquerades are a tad different and can happen all year round. Though they're usually held at the turning of the seasons, in fashion of course. The boats sail off to the small islands and the barges are roped together into one large floating floor, they last from Twilight till the break of the New Day and at the stroke of Midnight you have the dance of the mermaids and the crowning of the Mermaid Queen, who is chosen for her unique special ability, whether it is for her singing or for her fabled beauty. Last year we crowned the finest pie maker..." He chuckled. "Let me tell you I couldn't seen another pie for the rest of the year, as one of the judges I had to sample every single one, I told them next year should be non edibles." He laughed before turning to Danelle again. "So you tell me I should pay no mind to the many rumours? Though they must come from somewhere, any idea why your family should be slighted in such a way?" He asked clearly showing her he wasn't the halfwit she probably took him for. Well, no matter. No need to wake up sleeping dogs too much.
"Embrodery." She agreed softly, "And, yes. I do most of the embrodery on our clothes. Perhaps it is silly of me, but I enjoy it and it fills the time." Listening to him talk about being a squire, the young woman nodded and smile thought she found herself at a bit of a loss having never been around such before. "What such does he teach you?" She asked, trying to guide the conversation to his interest and perhaps learn more about the world outside Harrenhal. The Princess's book had been a welcome and enjoyable, but there was something about hearing things first hand.
Danelle smirked at the story of the pie, it was amusing and in good taste. For all her cold demeanor and her stiff attitude, the heir of Harrenhal did have a sense of humor. If she had a dislike of men? It was due to the fact she did not enjoy men the same as women. "I could imagine. We have similar such contests, though I am hardly called upon to judge them." Leaning back into the chair at his question, however, the woman frowned and sighed. "In truth? Most of the black talk comes from former lords. Did you know that before us, a woman called Alys Rivers held Harrenhal? The witch of Harrenhal they called her." Sipping her wine she gave Finnegan a pointed look. "I doubted that helped any. With out sigal being a bat? Well, the smallfolk take notions into their heads. My brother's death falling in a reckless run down the stairs hardly helped along with my father's second wife and son dying to the pox. Unfortunate circumstances. When rumor spreads it has wings, when truth does, I've noticed that merchant wagons travel faster." She remarked.
"Well...all sorts of things really, but I shouldn't really bother you with that. As I doubt you'd really be interested in the different parries and swordtechniques or the way one needs to ride to accomplish certain feats. The chivalry code and other knightly duties, that are expected." He said feeling kind of silly for bringing it up. "The horses are amazing though. Fantaghiro, which is Arnaud's horse is really clever, I often find her taking things and hiding them from me, in a sort of hide and seek kind of game." He explained. But perhaps if your sister is so interested in finding out what the Mermaid's Palace is, maybe we should invite you both over when they come again this year?" He asked tentively, Brennan cast his eyes quickly down as he took a large swig from his cup, to hide his slight blushing.
"True. Gossip is like wildfire, rather hard to extinguish. No doubt this did not pass you by unnoticed nor leave you with a sour taste in your mouth growing up." Finnegan remarked knowing how harsh the effect of such comments could be. He took the cup in his hand and poured hers full again, before he did his own and turned it around as he stared in it, as if he saw secrets into the blood red depths. "If I was to accept your father's proposal and be honest here...would you truly wish for that?" He asked, as he had kept an eye on Lord Manfryd who had been kept busy by lady Cyra, so his question might slip by him unnoticed. "Would you even desire for such a thing?"
"Oh that would be lovely! I, too, would enjoy knowning more about this mermaid palace." Elayne agreed eagerly, her blue eyes bright with wonder at the thought. Perhaps if a certain silver haired fool had not been so blunt he could have been as charming she thought with a irked smoothing of her gown. "And please, do tell me of being a squire, I've no brother and my veiw is rather limited with my studies." She protested his doubt that she would be interested. In truth, they would mean little to her, but Elayne was nothing if not keen to hear about things. Even if she was not so keen as to try them all herself.
Pausing as her goblet was filled, Danelle considered the question as the man asked it. In truth? She would rather marry a pig than a man, yet as heir she had to marry lest she find herself indeed marrying a swineherd. "In truth? I have little interest in the trappings of marriage." Her voice lowering some as her eye flicked to the busy parental figures. "Yet, I see no fuss over a husband keeping his whores, or his gambling, or what enjoyments he might seek." She sipped the wine and turned that consideration to the young knight. A husband would not find himself wanting so long as Manfryd was alive. The man would be able to keep his whores and she would keep her own. "I would be the one to inheiret and run Harrenhal and the lands after my father dies after all. A husband would find I can accomadate and there are benefits." Her eyes flickered to Elayne in thought. If all of Westeros knew she had been scooped up by the Targaryen Prince, with King Aegon's folly so recent, it was possible marriages would be hard to find for Elayne. A thought occured to her slightly, but she set it aside for another time. "Should I take it you would find the life of a unwed son of a wine merchant more to your liking than marriage to any maid?" Danelle quirked a brow.
Finnegan sighed. "I am no fool. What you propose sounds sound, but you fail to think further than your own ambitions. Who is to inherit when you're gone? If you propose I keep to my own bed as it were, how then to pass on the legacy when we're both cold in our graves. A man doesn't like to lose his line if he is smart he attempts to set a future for his house." He eyed her seriously. "So who? One of my bastards?" He asked barely audible so only she could hear.
"Well I think I couldn't give you a better description than the one my brother gave just now, but to really understand is for you to simply see it and be there. Upon our invitation of course." He uttered, before she allowed him to steer to more familiair waters and he began to explain what his daily duties looked like, what the code of chivalry meant and what the different types of weapons were he was being trained in.
"You assume." Danelle stated cooly. "No, I would not avoid the marriage bed." No, that would be entirely impossible so soon with her own marriage being spoken of. With Manfryd still alive for sure. Children could be avoided though and that would have to do. "The legacy of my house must be carried on after all." She cocked her head in consideration, "I would not begrudge you your bastards or putting them in some favorable places." She noted in absent thought.
Elayne for her part was listening and nodding. Stowing away what she was learning for when she could use it.
Then suddenly Brennan stood up, after having finished his cup and gathering his courage he held out a hand to the lady Elayne. "If you permit me, it would be a shame and a sin to have asked you for a dance, so would you permit me, lady Elayne?" he asked with a slight tremble as his nerves turned and twisted his stomache into a knott.
Finnegan noticed his younger brother's action and smiled, rising up himself before offering his arm to Danelle. "Would you care for a dance, my lady?" He asked with a warm but careful smile.
Taking the offered hand and arm respectively, the sisters stood and assented to a dance. It would turned out that Danelle was not the better dancer though her dancing was aided by her own practice with the sword. Elayne had practiced endlessly in Harrenhal with herself, but for all her slight pauses of uncertainity she was not lacking in grace. Danelle swirled as well but her heart was not in it as Elayne's was. It was as standard as the practice of sword work would be to the lads. Elayne, beamed and seemed utterly jovial at the chance to do as she had been dreaming of for so long in dusty halls.
"You're a very good dancer, Lady Elayne." Brennan commented, hoping he would not screw up this rare opportunity to dance during the tournament. Arnaud was not particularly one who attended the dances and claimed time was often better spent observing or working on one's own skills. Still, this rare opportunity was not one Brennan was willing to let slip. He admiringly gazed upon her lovely face and her fair features that seemed to radiate and glow now as she seemed clearly in her element. Brennan just inwardly thanked his mother for badgering them to learn how to dance, so he wouldn't make a mockery of himself. He looked longingly at those bright eyes and those full lashes that framed them. He couldn't help but lower his gaze to those lips that formed such a wide and happy smile. If he had to marry, he would glady marry her." He thought.
Finnegan, more at home on the dancefloor, smoothly turned Danelle around. "I must confess, sometimes my sly younger brother has some good ideas." He commented. "It for one allows us to talk without the fear of being overhead." He stated as he gazed down at Danelle. "What is it you expect of me? Should this alliance continue?" He asked honestly. "And please spare me pretty lies, I prefer cold hard facts without the element of surprise." He told her. "Would you love me? Could you?" He asked.
"Thank you." Elayne smiled at the handsome man, oblivious to his line of thought as she simply enjoyed the dance and the compliments heaped upon her. The young woman was still a girl in many ways and oblivious to her charms.
Danelle felt the corners of her mouth twitch as Finnegan laid the words out plainly before her. He was right in many ways and Danelle found herself amused by his thoughts. "Without lies? A rarity." Her husky voide was only loud enough to carry to her dancing partner. "Could I love you? No. Be amused and fond of ther service you provide? I could do that." She admitted though there was an bluntness to her words. Not scorn, but frank disinterest in the thought of marriage. "You, for all your skill, do not have breasts." She arched a brow. "Now you find another reason the people of Harrentown speak of witches." That was said full of mockery and scorn as the woman continued the measured pace about the space. "What I would expect is for you to do as you would. Drink, hunt, keep your whores as I will do the same. To Harrenhal's benefit and my own. In turn? We keep our pleasures and our station, your which would move up from your marriage to me. Harrenhal cannot boast having the same wine as the Arbor unless we buy it, but we are not a poor House."
Finnegan couldn't help but laugh at her statement. "No, I do not. Thank the Seven, else I'd spend all my time fondling myself." He spoke softly as he couldn't help but hide his mirth at the thought and idea, before turning more serious and listening as she continued. "You're hardly a witch, you've not casted any spells as of yet, but I appreciate the honesty. Few people value it these days." He pondered her offer for a while longer before he ended. "All right, I'll do it. Whilst the prospect you paint me seems too good to be true and often will lose its flavour, I do hope a mutual respect and understanding can grow between us, also for the bonus that it would silence those pesky rumours you must have heard so long once and for all. For I would not allow my ladywife to be scorned in such a manner." He promised as the dance ended. "Whatever your thoughts may be of me, I promise you I am not so terrible as you might fear." He told her, before he escorted her back to the dais.
Brennan watched her as the dance ended and he was forced to escort her back to the dais. Frankly he couldn't help but kiss her hand and hold her slightly closer and tighter as he escorted her back. He offered her her seat first, and poured her some more wine before asking what she would like to receive as a gift.
Domeric meanwhile eyed Manfryd and stated. "It seems we might find some favourable matches after all. Provided of course you're still looking for those." He asked they watched the pairs end their dances.
"For Danelle? Of course, though your younger son lacks lands or a knighthood to offer Elayne." Manfryd mused, "They like each other enough, but I would see her future more secured."
The woman nodded to Finnegan, "Then it seems we are in agreement." Danelle thought he was hardly the fool she could wish for but his ties to the Arbor could be of use until she disposed of him. "There is one small matter I must insist on. That you do not find yourself fondling my women of choice." She said in a undertone, her eyes sharp as she smiled with dagger sharpness. "Though I would think that would hardly be a problem."
Elayne looked shocked at the kiss and knew her face was aflame as she took her seat. At the mention of a gift she shook her head, looking shocked. "I could not accept a gift! Your company has been quite enough." She insisted softly. "I would feel as thought I was taking advantage of your kindness!"
Brennan looked disheartened at that. "I...I see." He said. "Twas a mere thought of gifting you something to remember me by, nothing serious..." He uttered feeling conflicted and wondering whether he had understood their intentions wrong. "It seems I made an oaf of myself assuming things I mayhaps shouldn't have. I beg your pardons Lady Elayne." He said statically, trying to save face.
Finnegan snorted. "I hardly doubt those you favour, would favour me likewise. So there is little issue there. Besides, I do not particularly want those belonging to others. As for my demands there are relatively easily as well, but we can discuss those at a later time." He said calmly as they arrived at their parents once again.
Domeric instantly narrowed his eyes. "Clearly your fortunes must have shifted then. Perhaps enough that you would not care for match with us?" He asked intending to know the full extent of this specific turn. Earlier he had been adamant it would be Brennan to marry Elayne if Danelle and Finnegan did not match. As Brennan was considered more worthy of her then, clearly something must have happened to turn his youngest son into sloppy seconds.
There was amusement in Manfryd's expression as he arched a brow. "No, Lord Domeric. I merely want my youngest daughter to have a very solid foundation in life. Though I shall keep your youngest in mind. I am in no rush to marry Elayne off to the first young buck that comes along. She was the last child my dear Calera gave me." His voice took a a sad tone as he watched Elayne. "She looks so much like her mother. You must understand if your own wife were to pass delievering to you such a treasure? Seven forbid that to ever be a concern Lady Cyra."
Danelle seemed agreeable and motioned subtly for Finnegan to take the lead in speaking to their parents with a flick of the eyes between them and a pointed arched brow at the young knight.
Elayne shook her head and looked utterly confused. "Oh, do forgive me. I have nothing to offer in turn. You have hardly made an oaf of yourself!" She protested laying a gentle hand on the man's arm. "My pardon is given, though I see it hardly needed. Rather I ask for yours. The day has been quite long and hectic for me, perhaps that is why I am making such a fool of myself." She shook her head and sighed, blushing. "Oh, I am prattling on and making a mess of things!"
Domeric was not wholly convinced by that argument, not with the other conversation fresh in his mind. No something had occured and right now he wasn't certain he should tie himself to a family that was not forthright. Family was all in Domeric's eyes. Hence he would keep his caution.
Meanwhile Brennan took the lady's hand in his again. "You would not need a pardon from me, but if it would soothe your mind I would tell you you are without fault. You would never be able to look like a fool, for such a fair maiden could only make minstrels turn to song and inspire ballads of old." He looked down at her hand he was still holding, before releasing it quickly, with a clear sigh of misery. Tis but too true, I simply at not worthy of thee. I hold no knighthood or land. Am no great warrior of renown, I would only be in your way as you no doubt attract the attention of more famous knights or richer men than I." He eyed her with a look that bordered on hope and despair. "Tell me I might hold onto hope...to have a chance at gaining your heart for mine own."
But Finnegan shook his head, nodding to the their two younger siblings. "Not yet." He told her. "It isn't the right time."
Glancing at the siblings, Danelle arched a brow. "He's falling and she will give him nothing." She remarked quietly. "Her options are to stay open as of yet."
Elayne blushed at the flowery language and fidgetting nervously. Her eyes flicking towards Danelle nervously. "You flatter me, I would gladly tell you such." She whispered. The mask, she had to hide behind her mask and play the game as Danelle expected her to. She had seen Danelle nod her head subtly after all. But to give hope to this young man? Was there any? She wanted to work on something, take her time to sort out the tangle of her thoughts. Paling slightly, she swallowed. "Forgive me, I feel faint." It was hardly a lie. She was granted permission to eye and look with pleasure at this man but not at the Prince?
The Lord of Harrenhal sighed and gave Domeric a sigh. "Let the boy try when he has his knighthood. When he has won some fame to his name. I am not against him trying to win her love, but I also desire security for Elayne. Calera married a knight and it went badly for her. I would not expect that from your son, but I am not yet ready to give over Elayne into a hastily made marriage as Danelle seems to have taken your elder son as acceptable." She wasn't trying to chase the man away with a barbed tongue. "Let them court, if he wishes while he gets his shield." That he was encouraging it Manfryd thought was something of a sign there was hope.
Finnegan sighed. "Then Brennan should not be given false hope. It will end badly for him then. Intending to fix this mess himself. "Brennan." He said speaking up. "You're 'frightening' the girl. Let it 'rest'." He spoke aloud. His words cryptic, but the message was clear between brothers and Brennan eyed him with a look of utter broken misery. "Forgive me Lady Elayne, I spoke out of turn." His voice turned softer. "You need not fear me, I perhaps frightened you with my forwardness. I do apologize, mother...lady Elayne, if you will excuse me, I shall remove myself from your presence so you won't be so disturbed by me." The words were clinical, hurried as the boy rigidly bowed and disappeared. He was in need of his cousin, to work out his frustration and his churning emotions, preferably by hitting something.
Domeric sighed. "It seems one problem seems to have resolved itself. The boy will calm down and I'll have a conversation with him later, he's a proud lad. She just hit him where it hurt the most." He said calmly, nodding to Cyra who in turn had attempted to comfort Elayne.
Danelle cast a side-eye towards Finnegan. "Was that necessary? His court of her could have proved useful to the both of us." She remarked, easily using the us. In truth? Brennan marrying the girl could have given Danelle the answer to all her problems, though it would complicate getting rid of the elder brother when the time came.
The gentle Elayne looked horrified at Finnegan's comment and stammared her protest, soft and muted as she watched the squire flee. Looking to the Lady mother, Elayne gave her a pleading look that bordered on outright shame. "I truely was not so frightened!" She whispered. "I- His words took me off guard and after such a day!" She shook her head and sighed. "Oh, I've made a right mess of things!"
Manfryd sighed and nodded in agreement. "Danelle shall have to comfort Elayne, I imagine she will take it poorly. The girl has not been outside of my lands before and I fear this first tournament had overwhelmed her. Let alone being so admired by a young man." He shook his head and sighed. "Your thoughts towards matching our eldest, Lord Domeric? As my own daughter has voiced no objections, I see none."
Lord Domeric turned to Finnegan, who on his turn turned to Danelle, giving a simple, why don't you tell them gesture as a show of good faith.
Lady Cyra sat a little closer to Elayne and rubbed her back. "It isn't your fault dear, sometimes, my sons can be difficult. I know he knows you were not so frightened of him, he perhaps hoped for more than you were willing to give him. It will be a good life lesson to learn." She calmly soothed. "At least you can be assured that you are a very beautiful young lady and that you'll attract more than your share of suitors, like my son." She spoke softly.
"Father, Lord Domeric." Danelle continued accepting Finnegan's offer. "I would like your accept that Ser Finnegan and myself might marry and he might be taken into House Lothston as my husband and a furture Lord of Harrenhal." She smiled politely and ignored her sister's fretting.
Blinking at the gentleness being shown her, Elayne gave the Lady Cyra a desperate look. "My Lady, if you would. Would you give him my deepest apologies? I would give him more but..." But what? She had given her favor to a Prince of the Realm? That she was exasperated and perplexed by a man that made her heart flutter who she could never have? Even if her father had suggested the match and the Princess had too... Could it be? It could not surely, for Danelle would not allow it. "I fear my father desires to see me wed to someone he sees as able to provide for my future." She sighed and looked into her lap. "Please, My Lady, give him my apologies and that I did not mean to be so rude to him. I truely was merely overwhelmed. He is a handsome and lovely young man, especially for speaking of me so." She blushed at remembering those kind words and smoothed her gown. Falling to silence as Danelle put her proclaimed request before the two fathers.
Lady Cyra couldn't help but smile apologethically and promised she would, before being interrupted by the announcement. That had escalated quickly. "My dear are you certain of this? Would you not prefer to have more time to get to know oneanother?" She asked wanting to be certain her husband wasn't forcing her son into something he did not approve of himself. But Finnegan merely raised his hand. "I am fairly certain mother. Though we may not know one another all that well, I can find myself in agreement with the lady, I believe we would do well together." He stated cordially, taking Danelle's hand in his and kissing its knuckles to add strength to his words. And with that Lady Cyra could hardly refuse. She would have to put her worry aside and apparently see this through. Words were bond and rarely broken. Lord Domeric smiled widely however. "Brilliant Fin, we shall have to celebrate your betrothal then, assuming you would protest this Lord Manfryd?" He asked turning to their guest.
"I shall not protest this, Lord Domeric." The Lord of Harrenhal noted, though he approved of the match. That Danelle had accepted it so easily troubled the man. Perhaps it was simply that his daughter wished to settle the matter of a husband and move on if he would not be put off the idea. "Let us celebrate this union." His smile was genuine even as he noted Elayne had calmed remarkable. Another good things. If all went well there it was possible she would have the favor of a Targaryen Princess and perhaps the interest of a Targaryen Prince. The rumors around the tournament's city of tents for one would run faster than wildfire and surely have the Prince and his youngest daughter in some sort of relationship. It was something that would cause trouble, but there was also the fact he could seek recompensation for the slight of honor towards his House. If the Targaryens compensated? It would be a start to their slight, even as the boy's flattery had been a start. If they did not? Just another reason to urge Daemon to press for the throne. A different house, the same house in a sense, but perhaps one of stronger honor.
Danelle endured the kiss, giving a small curve of her lips that could pass for a smile.
Finnegan toasted for a moment before stating to his father and turned to Lord Manfryd. "As I have little knowledge of planning such affairs, I would, with your leave Lord Manfryd, take the lady out for a stroll accross the Pavillion. The night is fair and I would have the ladies enjoy their time whilst you are with us. The Lady Elayne could accompany us as means of a surety that I have no unsavory intentions, merely wishing for some diversion from the earlier incident. Some of the games will be held tonight so I believe it would please both ladies as well." He suggested seeing his father nod in approval. "They would have little to fear within our grounds and it would give you and my parents some time to give thought to planning the happy affair." The redhead spoke with his usual charm.
"You may go, Ser. My younger daughter shall accompany you." It was a wise move of the lad and Danelle agreed. Elayne for her part rose and followed her sister and the knight, blushing at being 'escort' for her elder sister. As if anything untoward could hamper Danelle! The man would find himself spitted on his own sword. Noting the hand tucked under Finnegan's arm Elayne sighted, at least she found him acceptable enough to agree, though the girl knew Danelle would be fury when they reached their own tents.
Finnegan stood up and offered an arm to the Lady Danelle and aided them both getting off the dais, before he took them for a stroll around the different tents. There was liveliness in the air tonight, a large crowd had gathered around a tall pole made slick with grease and fat. From its top hung a large leg of ham and the brave young common men tried their luck at reaching it. Several young lordlings of lesser houses and squires also made vain attempts, but despite the crowd's eager cheering they had not succeeded yet either. A little further the applebobbing barrels had their own ring of crowd, mostly young boys and young women, attempting to catch as many apples before the hourglas ran out of sand. In between all that vendors sold curious spices drinks and the smell of grilled meat filled the air. Finnegan allowed the girls to watch for a moment before he asked. "Lady Elayne. Would you be so kind to fetch us some cups of drink. Ask for '3 Arbor Nights' and tell the barmaid it is for me. You should have no problems then." He suggested as he hoped to ask his practicular question without the young lady present.
Elayne dipped a quick nod to the knight at Danelle's agreeable smile towards Finnegan and was soon making her way to get the drinks as requested.
When she was gone he turned to Danelle and kept his eyes on the retreating form of her sister. "Now,I did have a question I wished to ask you about. Word has reached my ear, naturally I do not want to place much faith in such matters, but I have to ask, for Brennan's sake as well as that of both our families. There was an incident with your sister and some dragons I believe? As you can imagine I would appreciate your honesty in this particular manner as well." He spoke, though the words were more clinical. As he turned to her and looked at her, she could see the seriousness replace the once misschievous eyes. "As you can imagine I would hate it if my brother got dragged into a mess, his honour and feelings for the girl would urge him to do stupid things and cause problems for both our houses." He pointed out, the smile fading as the voice trailed off at his last words.
Danelle arched a brow, and gave a small hum of consideration. "Has word reached that far?" There would be no use in denying it. "I would not suggest asking Elayne about it. She found the entire thing distressing, little wonder she was so over wrought by your brother's straight forwardness." She had been slighted by those dragons and Danelle felt her lips curve in a snarl. Oh, she could use this to play the game and she would find that girl- the one who had so claimed she had seen Danelle's end- in her hand. Fluttering like a bird. The Targaryens had lost the dragons and with that loss had gone their power. The girl would answer for that cryptic message, even if she had to pluck every feather. "The sister insulted me at every turn." In truth? Aelor and Aelora had fended off Danelle's jabs and insinuations. Pulling Manfryd from the path she had laid out for him, turning Elayne into a willful little beast. The girl had dared to interfere when her orders had been specific.
"The brother was drinking, his words to my father were smooth. Using his sister to ensure that nothing had been improper with Elayne. You know the custom, sister to brother. What better match than twins? Already paired in the womb." Danelle noted with a grimace. "Your brother's feelings are not alone. I think Elayne finds him very acceptable, though I can imagine after such a day she was overwrought with all that had happened." Raising a hand, she squeezed Finnegan's arm. "I cannot say if anything untoward happened, I have not had time to question Elayne yet on the matter. When I do so, it will take time and shall have to be delicately approached. Given the last King however, I have my suspicions." Danelle felt her mask curl in disgust, even as she nodded in satisfaction. That answer would buy time and give Elayne a potential suitor that Danelle could perhaps find acceptable if she had no other options. If she was extremely lucky, perhaps the squire would get lucky enough to land a blow on the Prince and remove him from the situationn entirely. Then Elayne would not have this foolish streak rear up in her!
"Hence why I send her with a long taking order." He stated. "I would not want to bring further embarrasment to her. Despite of what you might believe me to be, I would prefer not to be cruel, when I can avoid it. That being said..." Finnegan felt her squeeze his arm. "I hope you understand that Elayne should attempt to avoid any further run-ins with them, for her own reputation's sake and we might have to keep a wary eye out for her. Whilst we could suppress such rumours, we cannot avoid them being spread at all. Your sister seems to be too tenderhearted and innocent to understand the damage a tarnished reputation can do." He eyed her with a softened expression this time. "Now, I'll not inform my brother of what I have heard, doing so I believe would diminish his hope and would completely cease his interest in her, unless he truly has lost his heart to her. Arnaud would keep him busy enough during the tournament. So perhaps something could be salvaged at a later time." He ended.
"Why do you think I keep her close?" Danelle commented simply. "I plan to do just that, Ser. Though, I should think perhaps you might warn your brother as to her innocence, if nothing else? He might find her words confusing when he expects someone with experience as some other ladies might. Elayne is of a slightly simple mind." She advised and noted Elayne returning with the drinks.
"You can be assured of that." He promised Danelle before gracefully smiling and accepting the drinks from Elayne, before explaining. "This my lovely ladies is what we know to be an Arbor Night. A drink made by mixing certain elements and known to be our own special little secret. Take the wild spices, warm twist of caramel, a splice of lemon and his quality liquor you gain an intoxicating beverage that smoothly glides down your tongue and warms your senses." He explained before offering a toast to the two of them. "May the sweet summer nights never end and wrap us in its embrace."
"May they never end." Both women agreed, Danelle looking satisfied. Elayne was far more muted and smiled gently at the two set to be wed.
The Lothstones and 'lower' Redwynes meet. Young love and infatuations. Marriage forged.
“I still can’t believe you got her to agree with this…” Armand stated as he helped his brother and cousin carrying the large round table to its spot. Arystide flashed a wicked grin at the 17 year old. “Nene can be a harpy, but she could never deny me anything.” He told them with a rather smug confidence. Armand flashed him a look of concern. “She’d better not hear you call her that…” He uttered, shifting his grip on the table as the boys manoeuvred it over to one of the other tents. “Eh, she’ll throw a fit at first, but that’s cause she feels no one takes her seriously, but in the end she knows I am not the idiot she thinks I am.” Finnegan couldn’t help but snicker and add. “No, you’re far worse.” “Exactly.” Arystide accepted proudly. “Therefore, what better way to control the loose cannon than being the one determining where you aim it. We all know this is a big deal for Dottie, so she wants us out of the way so we can’t embarrass the family during the later hours.” Armand shook his head in concern. “I can’t help but feel for poor Nene, having to deal with both your antics as well as Sissi and Wen’s. This should be a time they should flaunt their beauty and good looks, attracting the attention of other Houses.” “That’s because Nene is passed her prime.” Armand turned his neck a bit too fast groaning at the pain as he instinctually brought his hand up, releasing the table and nearly dropping it. Finnegan and Arystide corrected quickly. “Oi! Hands on table! Hands ON Table!” Arystide growled making Armand regrip it quickly. They got it to their designated spot and with a unified groan placed it down. “What did you mean, Nene is passed her prime.” “Women, my dear little brother are like Summerwines. They’re sweet when they’re ripe, but the older they get the more sour they become. Eventually they’ll kill your liver as well as your taste for the finer things in life. Nene is an old Summerwine. She lost her sweetness. She only has the harsh sour taste left.” “How can you say that?” “Cause it is true.” Arystide threw back. “Most matched get set up early, the kids don’t know it, but the Mothers and Aunts do all the planning and prepping. Finding out which alliance would serve their interests best and whether or not their son or daughter would be a good match.” He grabbed one of the chairs they had gathered earlier and set it at the table, leaning on it. “Now, the attraction stage comes the moment the little flowers starts to bloom. When they get their comely shapes and fill up their dresses.” Armand blushed at that particular image whilst Finnegan grinned as he put a hand on his shoulder. “But when a match isn’t found or set up, the flower withers, loses her bloom and inevitably loses her youth and beauty. It is when they usually prepare themselves mentally for spinsterhood and you get either the jealous type of behaviour turning them into harpy’s or they become as desperate as can be and will settle for any cock they can raise.” Arystide finished enjoying watching his young brother squirm at this particular topic. He is too sensitive, Arystide believed, and it was high time he and Finnegan would take him under their wing and turn him into a proper man. “We’ll find you a nice one don’t worry.” He promised with a wink, watching Armand squirm even harder in horror. Finnegan meanwhile had admired and tapped the lacquered layer of the table. “Not to put any questions on your particular taste of furniture, but….Why the Seven Hells did you pick this heavy thing anyway? We could have made due with a couple of lighter ones.” Arystide rolled his eyes at his cousin’s foolish question. “That way dear Nene can’t easily go back on her word, regardless of what happens.” “Oh yes she can.” Armand cut in sharply trying to shift his thoughts from his potential first time to he large round monster between them. It technically wasn’t even one of their usual tables, Arystide being Arystide had seen it during one of his travels and had picked it up. The overpriced monster had been stored belowdecks of the Arbor Queen for at least a full month, only to be remembered and brought out along with the rest of the Tournament supplies. “But she won’t. We’ll be out of sight and the great honourable Lord Tarly wouldn’t venture into a den of depravity such as this. He’ll head for his seat of honour, dine and drink for sake of appearance and fuck off afterwards. Meanwhile, we can excuse ourselves and have our own little party here. Pretty wenches…a good casket of Arbor ‘spiced’ Red I happened to have stowed away and I already got Little Davy to set us up with a nice brisket.” Arystide explained being the seasoned tourney-goer here. Armand looked both impressed and horrified at the same time. “If Nene finds out, she’ll have your head.” “Hardly…she knows what I am. She’ll just hope I’ll be stupid enough to get myself hitched up. That way I would be out of her hair. Speaking of which…” His eyes drifted to the people outside. As the pavilion started to gather more visitors the flock of those being women increased as well. “Giving a soft chuckle and a mischievous wink Arystide looped an arm around Armand’s neck and pulled him along. “Let’s go little brother. We have game afoot.” He uttered with a mad grin before leaving Finnegan to finish the chairs. “Particularly that pretty little thing in the teal dress there..” He gestured with his head, picking up two goblets of Arbor wine and winking to Armand stating. “Watch…and learn.” He stated with a smug smile, looping around the two so they would catch him in his path. Making certain he timed it just right, he turned around making sure his accidental bump spilled, making some of the wine go all over his outer vest. Wisely he had chosen a watered down Arbor Gold for the deed. “Oh…Seven Hells.” He exclaimed in pretended shock, before feigning to notice the women. Quickly attempting to take it off. “Begging your pardons, Ladies.” He stated with a nod. “But if it gets into my shirt I’ll stink like peaches for the rest of the Tournament.” He joked as he flashed a good deal of chest accompanied by his usual bright smile. “I hope my clumsiness didn’t cause you any grief or stains in those beautiful dresses…Here allow me to offer you fresh cups…accompanied of course by my sincerest apology.” He stated signalling the bartender and bowing deep enough for them to catch a good glimpse of everything. The bloody bastard is playing to his strengths. His skin tanned from being outside a great deal would turn his teeth and eyes even brighter as well as compliment the long fiery locks that surpassed his shoulders. His accident would allow the women one of the rare glimpses of muscle and skin and bowing that low would certainly allow them to look further. If Armand scoffed at the fact that his brother was seemingly getting away with most breaches of propriety and decorum. He ordered a goblet of Arbor Red pretending to keep himself occupied as he kept a careful watch on his brother’s antics.
Armand is amazed and horrified that Arystide managed their sister to agree to a boys table setup. They discuss women and Arystide attempts to swoop up the ladies Carmyne.@Almalthia
The section of tents that always was bustling with life and excitement was the so called Pavillion. The Redwynes managed to impress the local crowds and other noble delegations with their lavish spread of the 3 F’s: Food, Feasting and Filling up on whatever drink you could manage to hold down. With their cluster of grapes flying high from above the Feasting Tent, it was hard to miss and often was used for point of reference as a gathering spot as the Feasting Tent was the largest tent of them all. One of an impressive size, intent on housing a great number of people, with tables and benches set up both inside and a few outside as well. It also held a small stage for the travelling bard to perform, provided of course they gained permission by the Redwynes. The family themselves we set up at slightly raised, with their table always prepared and set up, the dark blue table cloths embroidered with their purple sigil with shiny golden thread. The chairs that were set up behind the table were decorated accordingly with vines and leaves of the wine ranks. Three extra chairs were placed at the table for their invited special guests, the Tarly’s. They were spread out, so each would be flanked by the Redwynes. Honora thought it wise to place the potential troublemakers at the ends, they needed this to be a success not have Lord Tarly be instantly insulted by either Arystide or horrified by the Twins. She had set him up with in between Lord Domenic and herself, figuring they would be able to keep the man pleasantly engaged, whilst she had put his son next to his intended and next to Arnaud, so he might, should the awkward silence fall, always be able to discuss the ongoings and opponents of the Tournament. The lady in question she had put next to her aunt Lady Cyra and Armand, with Nadiya closeby to potentially jump in and to keep an eye on the twins as well. They had send out word beforehand to the town for those who sought to make some extra coin. The Redwynes would pay handsomely for their aid. Strong young men to help build and set the tents up and young women who were willing to serve out drinks…usually this particular job; the selecting of the wenches was done by Arystide and Finnegan as they considered themselves connaisseurs on that particular matter. Honora let them be and told them to not get distracted and get the required number, no more, no less, lest they wanted to be servants themselves. That instantly set the right type of motivation, though Honora wasn’t sure how long it would be remembered. Usually getting help was no issue. The Redwynes were well liked by the smallfolk, perhaps it was a trait belong to the Reach, Honora doubted this tournament would give them any troubles. She and Lady Cyra had been quite busy all day coordinating the set up and overseeing the distribution of the brought wares such as the wine caskets, barrels with ale and crates filled with food. Tournaments were costly, but they always meant a good profit. Whether one was High- or Lowborn, everyone got hungry or thirsty at some point. And who better to provide than the winemakers themselves, not something that happened regularly as the Redwynes did not cross over the waters to the mainland all that often. Still there would be something for everyone whether they purse was filled or practically empty. It wasn’t for nothing that the Redwynes were jokingly named the ‘Businessmen’ of the nobles. Proverbs such as: ‘A Redwyne loves making money, just as much as drinking wine.’ or ‘Where the Lannister shits gold, the Redwyne pisses wine.’ They could hardly feel insulted by them as they enjoyed a bountiful life of plenty. The Arbor might not be as impressive as High Garden, but it was a true horn of Cornucopia and the Redwynes were more than willing to share their good bounty, for a price.
As slowly they started finishing up on setting up the last tents Honora walked around the grounds board and quill in hand ready to check things off her list as she watched the others aid their hired help. The young lords and Lord Domenic helped out with the actual labour. Domenic being a man of practicality would not allow the boys to sit idle so had ordered them to help with unloading the barrels and crates of food. And whilst some grumbled more than others it was clear that despite all the protests they made good time. The twins had been no use at all and thus Honora had decided that she could make the most of them by letting them do exactly what they wanted to do; which was snoop around and check out the other nobles. Knowing those two, she figured they could go out and be her eyes and ears for the moment. That left her younger sisters, Nadiya and Odette, whom she had left in the capable hands of Septa Sybilla, their chaperone.
Slowly bit by bit the cluster of tents grew and formed their known Pavillion. Games and betting stalls were the last to be finished. Also the always popular ‘Applebobbin’ & ‘Gingerbites’ were favourites for young and old, but Honora was most curious who would be able to get to the large ham this year. According to their butcher he had worked on the recipe of the grease coating, the pole would be extra slippery this year or so he had promised her. He and his hands would be working the MeatMen stall again. Working the sweltering cooking fires, seasoning the meat and grilling the food. His wife and other women worked the ‘sides’ stall. Which proved to bring in proper coppers last season, the sides of caramelized onions, baked tomato’s and hot potatoes had been such a crowd favourite that they had sold out before the tourney had been over. Wherever they went money flowed and hopefully that part of their reputation would serve them well into finding spouses.
As Honora allowed herself to sit down again for a moment to overview their handiwork she could only be pleased with the sight. It should prove an impressive display for the Tarly’s. They needed to make a good impression. For Odette’s sake. She allowed her thoughts to turn to a few weeks prior, when her father had called her into his study. Whilst it wasn’t unusual for her to be summoned to her father’s study, the atmosphere this time had been ’pressing’. Ever since her mother had passed she had stepped up and proudly took on the tasks. She had never complained as she had considered it her duty to aid her father and family. Gorlois had come to trust her even more than he had before. Sharing his thoughts on certain business ventures or his grief over the loss of their mother. This time she had sensed a great tiredness in her father, one that was slowly sinking in and dragging its claws. “Nene.” He had spoken half dazed. “We need to look to the future of our House.” He had said cryptically. She had raised an eyebrow at that. What was he referring to? Was he concerned over his children or the business side of things…she could never quite tell. Before she could ask whatever it was, Gorlois handed her his seal, pressing it into her hands. “You will write to Lord Talbert Tarly, tell him I accept his proposal. Better it be his son than those other Reach lords.” He uttered, giving Honora slightly more of an inkling what this could be about. “All those years the Tarly family has been praised for their Loyalty, what better gift to offer a daughter? What better than a loyal man?” Gorlois stated as he looked at his eldest. Ah, there it was, so it was a marriage he was referring to. “I am certain he will be pleasing when you have such faith in the man.” She spoke diplomatically. “Forgive me papa, I hadn’t expected such news, but I will do everything I can to bring honour to our family.” Gorlois looked up at her in confusion before he poured himself a drink. “Ah I am sorry Honora, but it isn’t you whom I am promising.” His words literally felt like someone drenched her with cold water. “I.if not I…then who?” She asked now more warily, wondering not for the first time what he was up to. “My pearl, our Odette.” He answered with an unnerving level of calm that scared even Honora. “Odette is 15!” She retorted in horror. “She is the youngest of us!” She shook her head in disbelief. “Of all your children you thought it wise to betrothed her first?! What about the rest of us?!” She thrust back as her blood boiled. “I needed to have her set up first.” Honora had rolled her eyes at that. Of course… “Yes we all know she is your favourite! We’re all weak when it comes to her. But have you ever considered what kind of message you’re sending out to the rest of Westeros? To have your youngest married before the rest? Did we even factor in here? What about securing a match for your own heir or for Nadiya? Or Hell even the twins!” Gorlois eyed her sharply. “Envy is unbecoming Honora.” He reminded her sternly. She gritted teeth retorting. “I am not envious of Odette!” “But you are upset, upset perhaps because you expected to be the one that would be set up first…” Gorlois calmly reasoned, watching his eldest daughter huff in frustration. “I couldn’t care less, but what I do care about is our reputation, this promise will send signals all over Westeros, the other Lords must be thinking something is wrong with the rest of us!” She threw her hands up in the air in resignation. “The Tarly-boy isn’t meant for you.” He spoke with such certainty that Honora didn’t even dare doubt her father’s judgement any further. “Fine…but I am not the one going to tell her…you can do that yourself! Gods…Odette wouldn’t even know what exactly would be expected of her! When is the meeting of them going to take place?” “At the upcoming Tournament at Summerhall.” “Summerhall? That’s quite the trip she’s never been off the island…” Honora had reminded him. “That is why you all will go with her. So she won’t be completely alone and friendless during their introduction. I asked your Uncle and Aunt to go as well. Domenic will take on the role of protector of our house, with you and your aunt bearing the responsibility for your brothers and sisters.” Another heavy sigh followed. “Do you think it is wise to bring the twins? They already don’t listen to a word I tell them and frankly I can see them run off with some lecherous hedge knight or seedy bard.” Her father laughed at that, but there was little warmth in it anymore. “Honora, I am sure it is not as bad as all that, you can steer them towards more appropriate waters.” He said with a rather cold upturned smile. “I make no promises papa, you grossly overestimate my ability to rein those two in. With the whole family going I will need to grow eyes in the back of my head.” And how true that last statement had been. Arystide and Finnegan already were a pain to deal with, Nadiya now started to rebel against her as well, but the Twins… If you asked Honora she would tell you they were the spawn of the Maiden and the Stranger. For all their flirting and leading men on it was a wonder they both weren’t with child yet. Honestly, they would soil the good name of their house if they would get a to bed all the handsome men of Westeros and beyond. She was pulled from her thoughts as a servant approached her handing her a cup with watered down wine. “Milady must be thirsty…please have a care.” The woman said motheringly, receiving a warm smile from Honora. “Thank you for your concern. Please bring some to the other workers as well. We all can use a refreshment.” Honora requested before her attention was drawn by a couple of riders that trotted in with laughter and merriment. Honora felt another sigh escape her as she instantly recognised the familiar voices and saw wild free flowing familiar red locks. Crossing her arms over each other she shook her head at the appearance of the both of them. “Heavens look at the state of you! Septa Sybilla will have a proper fit.” She said as the twins halted their horses and easily slid down to the ground. “Oh Nene, you’re such a spoilsport. We have been on our best behaviour, honest!” Rowanne immediately retorted as she patted the side of her brown mare. “We did cross the field twice, you wouldn’t say so at first glance, but there are a lot of lords present.” Serenei immediately reported. “No sign of the Tarly boy yet, however we have seen their tents.” “So we can’t tell Odette for sure whether he is handsome or not.” Rowanne smirked. “So they are here…well that is a promising start I suppose.” Honora mumbled more to herself than to her sisters, before asking. “Anyone of note?” “Well, we saw the banners of Ball, Lannister, Stark, Arryn, Lothstone, Templeton, I think also Mormont and Baratheon oh and the Dragon of course. Rumours go as rumours go, but all in all this is going to be quite a tournament if the setup of the lists is any indication.” Serenei drummed up from memory. Honora frowned she only hoped Arnaud would be careful during all of this. Tournaments made her uneasy, though she trusted her brother could handle himself, there always were characters who’s honour was questionable at best and more than often non-existent as they sought to win. “All right, get the horses back to their meadow and clean yourselves up. And if the Tarly’s do show up at least try to make a good impression…” She pleaded rather seriously, only to be met with smirks and a mirthful shake of the head. “Don’t worry Nene, we’ll be on our ‘best’ behaviour…” they promised, before they walked off laughing and pulling the horses along, making sure to be seen and heard every step of the way. They passed by the Feasting Tent casting a glance inside at potential people of interest, before giggling their way along. “That is what I am afraid off…” moaned Honora with a shake of her head. Seven help her…their family was doomed.
The Redwynes have arrived and are setting up their Pavillion on the field, Honora worries and recalls the conversation with her father regarding the upcoming meeting with the Tarly's. The map is included as cheatsheet, the unnamed tents can be whatever you like, foodstalls/merchants/betting tents ect
Castille snorted. "I may be blind boy, but I am hardly deaf...though...that last little trick you performed did peak my interest." He said as he stood up, his loose garments, hiding his lanky legs as he took his walking stick and nodded with his head. "Follow me, I doubt you'll be going on a watch patrol with those two tonight, as they would be watching their backs more in suspicion than actually pay attention to the streets." He said as he lead him back to the fence. "I'll try to ease and soothe your mind." Castille spoke as he held the hidden door open for him. "Undoubtedly you've been taught many things little Crow, but as you should be well aware the stories seldom get told fully in order to avoid loss of face or out of shame and disgrace. Such is the way of those who write history...of rulers who determine what will be permitted to exist and the fanatics don't burn for their own peace of mind." He lead him back into the city, hobbling through alleyways that started to liven up as lanterns were lit and small stalls and shops were set up. "The last few hours before the curfew, that is when you see the true face of the City. Twilight hours we call them. It is when even mages dare to come out and play. When you see artists perform their craft and dancers move silkily for a few silvers." He lead him up the hill, allowing one to look into small courtyard where drinking establishments and foodstalls slowly attracted the working folk. When he nearly reached the top of the stairs he moved behind a couple of houses to a clear overview, one of the few higher points of the city, offering a clear view of what lay below. "This City is quite powerful, the Merciful Mother knew this and so does the current High Priest. However it has allowed itself to be corrupted by lesser men, offering the weaker lambs an escape from the harshness that is reality." He pointed to a set of dark narrow alleys. The users are there. The intoxicated and dreamers. They squander their coin for a sliver of pleasure and hope for a dream that ends too quickly and never could be." He spoke sadly before raising his cane to the Tower with strange precision. "You can be certain the High Priest enjoys his cut as he allows them to do business in the city. Never touch it. The haze alone is said to be so powerful for first timers that they become instantly addicted and as far as I know none have ever recovered from it." He turned to Corvo. "You could be a saviour of more than just your own Kingdom. Provided you're willing to see the bigger picture. Find a way to harness this city and Vaim would have a serious fight on their hands. Oh certainly we don't have as many noble strong knights or as many mages, but what we lack in that we can more than make up in sheer fanaticism. I know you'd rather be back with your own kinsmen, but you're not capable to take on an empire on your own. No matter how brave your people are, alone they were crushed and stomped by the large Imperial boot."
House Redwyne of The Arbor Taste the fruits of our labour
House Sigil: Redwyne’s sigil is a Burgundy cluster of grapes on a blue field.
House Description: House Redwyne of the Arbor is one of the main noble houses sworn to Highgarden. Their seat is the Arbor, an island located off the southwestern-most part of Westeros, known for making the best wines in Westeros. The Redwynes control the Redwyne fleet; containing two hundred warships and five times as many merchant carracks, wine cogs, trading galleys, and whalers. The sigil of House Redwyne is a burgundy grape cluster on blue, symbolizing the famed wines of the Arbor.
History: Kings of the Arbor: The Redwynes claim descent from Gilbert of the Vines, a legendary son of Garth Greenhand. House Redwyne ruled as Kings of the Arbor until their last monarch was lost at sea, allowing his cousin, King Meryn III Gardener, to make the isle part of the Kingdom of the Reach. Fleets from the Arbor and Oldtown protected the Reach from naval attacks during the coming of the Andals. Redwynes have married Peakes over the centuries.
During the reign of the Targaryens & Dance: The Redwynes had always been shadowing the important events of the past, partly thanks to their marriages, intending to be there, but to not get caught up in the crossfire and burn down the vineyard.
During the Dance of the Dragons, the Arbor declared for King Aegon II Targaryen and the greens.
Lords Redwyne, Beesbury, Costayne, Rowan, and Tarly helped escort the High Septon to the capital for the coronation and wedding of King Aegon III Targaryen.
House Redwyne were close kin to House Hightower during the regency of Aegon III, and Martyn Hightower served as Lord Redwyne's squire at the Arbor.
The second son of Lord Unwin Peake squired for Lord Redwyne before drowning in a sailing accident.
Patricia Redwyne attended the Maiden's Day Cattle Show.
Lord Redwyne promised to support Alyn Velaryon, Lord of the Tides, with thirty war galleys from the Redwyne fleet when the Oakenfist sailed to confront Dalton Greyjoy, Lord of the Iron Islands. Alyn eventually departed for the westerlands after waiting at Oldtown for the Redwynes for some time. The Velaryon fleet later met the Arbor's ships while returning south after the death of the Red Kraken, and Lord Redwyne briefly hosted Alyn Oakenfist at the Arbor.
Recent History: With some of their ancestors laying down the groundwork for the next, we shall have to determine whether this Summer’s Vintage will be up to taste. Gorlois in his younger years was quite the traveller as he and Domeric visited all of Westeros and even some of the Eastorosi ports. Their taste for adventure drove them and forged a loyal bond that could not be broken. When their father however passed away suddenly, they were called back for the funeral. As new Lord Gorlois knew he needed to honour his father's final request, which was further the line. After meeting up with several handsome young ladies, his eye fell to the youngest of the Peake sisters. The redheaded set his heart aflame and whilst he was told by several that it would not be a good match he cast their doubts into the wind and sought to gain her hand anyway. The lady in question was frail and of a different temperament than Gorlois, she at first refused, but couldn't deny the attraction and would only accept it if her sister was permitted to stay with her. While it was not unheard of, this posed a problem as she was meant to be bethrothed to another. Yet, Gorlois persister and bought off her dowry, setting her up with his brother. At first the sisters were a bit out of their depth at the Arbor, but soon enough the climate grew on them and the people soothed their worries. Their marriages were relatively happy and blessed with children. Whom would need a Septa to look after them and Gorlois decided to seek help from his father's old friends the Hightowers, he took in Septa Sybilla Hightower who had turned to the Faith to spend the last part of her life to serve others. Whilst she at times honestly believes she has failed where it concerns the Redwyne kids, she at least prides herself knowing Honora and Odette will probably be fine. One thing is certain though, with their closeness to the High Towers and the Peakes, you can be assured that Gorlois intends to set up his family for the coming years.
The Ruling Branch: Family Members:
Lord Gorlois Redwyne (52): Lord of the Arbor, once a generous man, outgoing man, now often sits in silence some say griefstricken others suggest he is suffering from some sort of illness. It matters not, thanks to the badgering of his precious jewel they sailed off in full retinue to attend the Tourney at Summerhall as 'the boys' wanted to get in on the action aswell. Lord Gorlois himself won't attend but sends his younger brother in his stead. Cora Peake (Deceased; died after childbirth due to exhaustion)
Children: Arnaud Redwyne, (28) Heir to the Arbor.
Hardy, Handsome in a rough sort of way, Arnaud is a generous, but relatively silent man. He usually dresses in his leathers, always ready to draw steel when he needs to. Eldest of Gorlois's children he is Heir to the Arbor and took after his mother for looks and his father for preference for combat over conversing. However whilst honorable Arnaud is no fool, he will go above and beyond when his family is in danger. His father ordered him and Honora to look after Odette and take their measure of The Tarly heir, but more importantly look for a potential wife aswell. As Heir Arnaud will have certain responsibilities and one of them is marrying, forging an alliance and continuing the bloodline.
Arystide Redwyne, (25) Admiral of the Redwyne Fleet Enjoyer of both W's. Wine and Women. Enjoyer of life. Goes where the action is as any passionate man would. He is as wild as he waters he enjoys sailing and not above teasing his brothers. He is well known in the port towns, having taken many a maid to his bed and survived many a 'duel for satisfaction'. His older brother shakes his head at his antics, whilst his younger looks up to him or at least that's what he likes to believe. He loves upsetting Honora as she could never stay angry for long and he loves scheming with the twins and messing with Nadiya and Odette.
Honora (Nenee) Redwyne, (24) Lady of the Vine Performing the tasks of her mother has forced Honora to grow up more quickly than her sisters. Gentle, Softspoken and considered wise for her age, she dances her way through delicate situations with visiting lords and maintaining the good standing and reputation of House Redwyne. She is known as a skilful, charming diplomat as well as a true daughter to Gorlois as she bears the most resemblance with him. Unlike her sisters she dresses more modest, her gowns nevertheless showing off their rich fabrics as well as her own curves. She was given a marriage offer once, but her father turned it down as he deemed it inappropriate. Honora learned a couple years later that the man in question died of consumption. With her father having set up their youngest sister with a House of notable worth Honora cannot but feel slightly disgruntled at not having been paired up first as was custom.
Serenei & Rowanne (twins 21), The Twin Fyres. The twins are known to be similar in disposition aswell as vicinity. They enjoy experiencing and sharing things together and are often the more depraved of the family. Their shapes can be seen dancing whether to please their guests or during the summer festivities underneath the bright night sky usually in scandalously little clothing. They have a reputation of ensorcelling and ensnaring their prey and to often shock the septa or cause too much of a fuss that their eldest sister Honora has to smoothe over again. Who at this point has given up and stated that the only lord that would be able to deal with them, would either be able to please them to the point of loyalty or one who has to use his wife as a weapon to seduce his enemies to submission. Rowanne is rather attached to her twin sister and she likely follows her in whatever she does, she is the more jealous type as she tends to be more passionate in sense of temperament, where Serenei is gentler and cooler.
Nadiya (Naya) Redwyne, (19) She is far from mild mannered and enjoys riding with her brothers. She is a doublesided coin that is fuelled by both her mother's love for jewelry and finery, but also the stubborn willfulness of her father. She allows her older sister to be the more responsible one, whereas she desires to make her mark upon the world in one way or another. She also loves to imagine ridiculous lovematches, goaded on by those devious sisters of hers she often needs to be reminded by Honora or their Septa that a 'fling' is only worth it, if it leads to an advantageous marriage. She enjoys hawking and riding and teases Honora with the fact that she is a poor rider. She wears the most delicates of silks and keeps up with the current styles, her jewelry consists tiaras, necklaces, rings, pins of precious cut gems, pearls and a pair of hummingbird clasps.
Armand Redwyne (17) Protector of the Rank Youngest of the brothers, Armand is a tad bit shy, enjoying his luteplaying above dancing in the melee and prefering a bow instead of a sword. He usually wears what his sisters make for him, as he enjoys amusing them in their fussing over what he believes to be trivial, yet they find monstrously important for some reason. He can often be found with either quill or lute in hand, attempting to weave another sad ballad for the ages. As a son that wouldn't inherit he was offered a nice retreat near the coast to house him, to pass his life in or until he would marry and move away. It overlooks some of the finest quality vineyards of the Arbor as a gift to not leave him empty handed. Unlike his brothers he is more softspoken, enjoying his time being surrounded by his closest kin.
Odette (Dotti) Redwyne, (15) Arbor’s Flowerqueen Gorlois's Jewel, his fairest daughter, sweet as honeynectar and gentle as a newborn lamb. She is your typical teenager, who enjoys romantic stories, handsome knights, balls and dances and believing in 'one true love', much to the delight of Arystide who enjoys teasing her about it.
*Lissander Redwyne (stillborn)
Lesser Branches: Family Members:
Domeric; (47) younger brother to Lord Gorlois and has his House within Ryam’s Port & Cyra Peake; (43) wife to Domeric and sister to the late Lady Cora. Finnegan (22); eldest son Misschievous and often in cahoots with Arystide, the two are thick as thieves. They often go 'pleasure cruising' together and taste the more unique flavours life has to offer.
Brennan (17); youngest son of Domeric, squire to Arnaud. Brennan squires for Arnaud and can be found hanging out with the rest of his cousins often. He enjoys his work as a squire as Arnaud tends to actually teach him things like a good brother should do. Therefore Brennan tends to idolize him somewhat. Whilst may not be able to participate in the joust or main melee, he would be allowed to try his luck in the Ring gathering competition. He would be allowed to use Fantaghiro Arnaud's horse for it and be dressed in his own set of armour.
Others: Steward: Symon Lowter
Maester Tyburn
Septa Sybilla Hightower
Master of Ships: Domeric Redwyne ________________________________________
House Redwyne of The Arbor Taste the fruits of our labour
House Sigil: Redwyne’s sigil is a Burgundy cluster of grapes on a blue field.
House Description: House Redwyne of the Arbor is one of the main noble houses sworn to Highgarden. Their seat is the Arbor, an island located off the southwestern-most part of Westeros, known for making the best wines in Westeros. The Redwynes control the Redwyne fleet; containing two hundred warships and five times as many merchant carracks, wine cogs, trading galleys, and whalers. The sigil of House Redwyne is a burgundy grape cluster on blue, symbolizing the famed wines of the Arbor.
History: Kings of the Arbor: The Redwynes claim descent from Gilbert of the Vines, a legendary son of Garth Greenhand. House Redwyne ruled as Kings of the Arbor until their last monarch was lost at sea, allowing his cousin, King Meryn III Gardener, to make the isle part of the Kingdom of the Reach. Fleets from the Arbor and Oldtown protected the Reach from naval attacks during the coming of the Andals. Redwynes have married Peakes over the centuries.
During the reign of the Targaryens & Dance: The Redwynes had always been shadowing the important events of the past, partly thanks to their marriages, intending to be there, but to not get caught up in the crossfire and burn down the vineyard.
During the Dance of the Dragons, the Arbor declared for King Aegon II Targaryen and the greens.
Lords Redwyne, Beesbury, Costayne, Rowan, and Tarly helped escort the High Septon to the capital for the coronation and wedding of King Aegon III Targaryen.
House Redwyne were close kin to House Hightower during the regency of Aegon III, and Martyn Hightower served as Lord Redwyne's squire at the Arbor.
The second son of Lord Unwin Peake squired for Lord Redwyne before drowning in a sailing accident.
Patricia Redwyne attended the Maiden's Day Cattle Show.
Lord Redwyne promised to support Alyn Velaryon, Lord of the Tides, with thirty war galleys from the Redwyne fleet when the Oakenfist sailed to confront Dalton Greyjoy, Lord of the Iron Islands. Alyn eventually departed for the westerlands after waiting at Oldtown for the Redwynes for some time. The Velaryon fleet later met the Arbor's ships while returning south after the death of the Red Kraken, and Lord Redwyne briefly hosted Alyn Oakenfist at the Arbor.
Recent History: With some of their ancestors laying down the groundwork for the next, we shall have to determine whether this Summer’s Vintage will be up to taste. Gorlois in his younger years was quite the traveller as he and Domeric visited all of Westeros and even some of the Eastorosi ports. Their taste for adventure drove them and forged a loyal bond that could not be broken. When their father however passed away suddenly, they were called back for the funeral. As new Lord Gorlois knew he needed to honour his father's final request, which was further the line. After meeting up with several handsome young ladies, his eye fell to the youngest of the Peake sisters. The redheaded set his heart aflame and whilst he was told by several that it would not be a good match he cast their doubts into the wind and sought to gain her hand anyway. The lady in question was frail and of a different temperament than Gorlois, she at first refused, but couldn't deny the attraction and would only accept it if her sister was permitted to stay with her. While it was not unheard of, this posed a problem as she was meant to be bethrothed to another. Yet, Gorlois persister and bought off her dowry, setting her up with his brother. At first the sisters were a bit out of their depth at the Arbor, but soon enough the climate grew on them and the people soothed their worries. Their marriages were relatively happy and blessed with children. Whom would need a Septa to look after them and Gorlois decided to seek help from his father's old friends the Hightowers, he took in Septa Sybilla Hightower who had turned to the Faith to spend the last part of her life to serve others. Whilst she at times honestly believes she has failed where it concerns the Redwyne kids, she at least prides herself knowing Honora and Odette will probably be fine. One thing is certain though, with their closeness to the High Towers and the Peakes, you can be assured that Gorlois intends to set up his family for the coming years.
The Ruling Branch: Family Members:
Lord Gorlois Redwyne (52): Lord of the Arbor, once a generous man, outgoing man, now often sits in silence some say griefstricken others suggest he is suffering from some sort of illness. It matters not, thanks to the badgering of his precious jewel they sailed off in full retinue to attend the Tourney at Summerhall as 'the boys' wanted to get in on the action aswell. Lord Gorlois himself won't attend but sends his younger brother in his stead. Cora Peake (Deceased; died after childbirth due to exhaustion)
Children: Arnaud Redwyne, (28) Heir to the Arbor.
Hardy, Handsome in a rough sort of way, Arnaud is a generous, but relatively silent man. He usually dresses in his leathers, always ready to draw steel when he needs to. Eldest of Gorlois's children he is Heir to the Arbor and took after his mother for looks and his father for preference for combat over conversing. However whilst honorable Arnaud is no fool, he will go above and beyond when his family is in danger. His father ordered him and Honora to look after Odette and take their measure of The Tarly heir, but more importantly look for a potential wife aswell. As Heir Arnaud will have certain responsibilities and one of them is marrying, forging an alliance and continuing the bloodline.
Arystide Redwyne, (25) Admiral of the Redwyne Fleet Enjoyer of both W's. Wine and Women. Enjoyer of life. Goes where the action is as any passionate man would. He is as wild as he waters he enjoys sailing and not above teasing his brothers. He is well known in the port towns, having taken many a maid to his bed and survived many a 'duel for satisfaction'. His older brother shakes his head at his antics, whilst his younger looks up to him or at least that's what he likes to believe. He loves upsetting Honora as she could never stay angry for long and he loves scheming with the twins and messing with Nadiya and Odette.
Honora (Nenee) Redwyne, (24) Lady of the Vine Performing the tasks of her mother has forced Honora to grow up more quickly than her sisters. Gentle, Softspoken and considered wise for her age, she dances her way through delicate situations with visiting lords and maintaining the good standing and reputation of House Redwyne. She is known as a skilful, charming diplomat as well as a true daughter to Gorlois as she bears the most resemblance with him. Unlike her sisters she dresses more modest, her gowns nevertheless showing off their rich fabrics as well as her own curves. She was given a marriage offer once, but her father turned it down as he deemed it inappropriate. Honora learned a couple years later that the man in question died of consumption. With her father having set up their youngest sister with a House of notable worth Honora cannot but feel slightly disgruntled at not having been paired up first as was custom. Still nothing could make her more proud than to see their little sister grow more and more into the beautiful young woman she is becoming. It was Odette's idea to meet the Tarly's at the Tournament, seeing it as a good opportunity for all to go aside from garnering more wealth through sales, perhaps also garner a few more alliances along the way.
Serenei & Rowanne (twins 21), The Twin Fyres. The twins are known to be similar in disposition aswell as vicinity. They enjoy experiencing and sharing things together and are often the more depraved of the family. Their shapes can be seen dancing whether to please their guests or during the summer festivities underneath the bright night sky usually in scandalously little clothing. They have a reputation of ensorcelling and ensnaring their prey and to often shock the septa or cause too much of a fuss that their eldest sister Honora has to smoothe over again. Who at this point has given up and stated that the only lord that would be able to deal with them, would either be able to please them to the point of loyalty or one who has to use his wife as a weapon to seduce his enemies to submission. Rowanne is rather attached to her twin sister and she likely follows her in whatever she does, she is the more jealous type as she tends to be more passionate in sense of temperament, where Serenei is gentler and cooler.
Nadiya (Naya) Redwyne, (19) She is far from mild mannered and enjoys riding with her brothers. She is a doublesided coin that is fuelled by both her mother's love for jewelry and finery, but also the stubborn willfulness of her father. She allows her older sister to be the more responsible one, whereas she desires to make her mark upon the world in one way or another. She also loves to imagine ridiculous lovematches, goaded on by those devious sisters of hers she often needs to be reminded by Honora or their Septa that a 'fling' is only worth it, if it leads to an advantageous marriage. She enjoys hawking and riding and teases Honora with the fact that she is a poor rider. She wears the most delicates of silks and keeps up with the current styles, her jewelry consists tiaras, necklaces, rings, pins of precious cut gems, pearls and a pair of hummingbird clasps.
Armand Redwyne (17) Protector of the Rank Youngest of the brothers, Armand is a tad bit shy, enjoying his luteplaying above dancing in the melee and prefering a bow instead of a sword. He usually wears what his sisters make for him, as he enjoys amusing them in their fussing over what he believes to be trivial, yet they find monstrously important for some reason. He can often be found with either quill or lute in hand, attempting to weave another sad ballad for the ages. As a son that wouldn't inherit he was offered a nice retreat near the coast to house him, to pass his life in or until he would marry and move away. It overlooks some of the finest quality vineyards of the Arbor as a gift to not leave him empty handed. Unlike his brothers he is more softspoken, enjoying his time being surrounded by his closest kin.
Odette (Dotti) Redwyne, (15) Arbor’s Flowerqueen Gorlois's Jewel, his fairest daughter, sweet as honeynectar and gentle as a newborn lamb. She is your typical teenager, who enjoys romantic stories, handsome knights, balls and dances and believing in 'one true love', much to the delight of Arystide who enjoys teasing her about it.
*Lissander Redwyne (stillborn)
Lesser Branches: Family Members:
Domeric; (47) younger brother to Lord Gorlois and has his House within Ryam’s Port & Cyra Peake; (43) wife to Domeric and sister to the late Lady Cora. Finnegan (22); eldest son Misschievous and often in cahoots with Arystide, the two are thick as thieves. They often go 'pleasure cruising' together and taste the more unique flavours life has to offer.
Brennan (17); youngest son of Domeric, squire to Arnaut. Brennan squires for Arnaut and can be found hanging out with the rest of his cousins often. He enjoys his work as a squire as Arnaut tends to actually teach him things like a good brother should do. Therefore Brennan tends to idolize him somewhat. Whilst may not be able to participate in the joust or main melee, he would be allowed to try his luck in the Ring gathering competition. He would be allowed to use Fantaghiro Arnaut's horse for it and be dressed in his own set of armour.
Others: Steward: Symon Lowter
Maester Tyburn
Septa Sybilla Hightower
Master of Ships: Domeric Redwyne ________________________________________
Single Malt
Vixere
Vampiretwilight
