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Post by Lord Belric Blackfort on Dec 11, 2016 22:46:36 GMT
Belric nodded to Lord Piper, though he had no glass of his own to raise. "Thank you, Lord Piper. I see you are eager to make this tourney a memorable one. Whom from your house will be competing in the games?"
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The Raven
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Post by The Raven on Dec 12, 2016 2:22:11 GMT
"You'll find both my son Petyr and myself in the lists. This will be his first proper tourney of course, but I am proud to declare the war has already proven him a true knight. I hope your own son pays your name the same honor." He bowed to the expectant Saesha.
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Barley
High Lord
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Post by Barley on Dec 13, 2016 18:26:33 GMT
Saesha smiled to him and inclined he head but was not very happy, she has not announced the fact she was pregnant yet, as it was still fairly early, and was very displeased for his insinuation, not that she showed any of it, "May you both have the best of luck."
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Vex
Lord Paramount
what is this
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Post by Vex on Dec 13, 2016 20:19:05 GMT
Jormun chuckled at the memory of the feast. "If this is going to be anything like that show, it's best we both leave now. At least then we can say we had no part when the rest of the Riverlands declare war on us." "Perhaps I'd like part in that," replied Dacey with a slight smile to indicate she was joking... mostly, and scanned the room idly for any signs of Lord Smallwood's presence. "What did you have in mind?" she inquired, assuming Jormun had some kind of alternative to this gathering.
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Post by Lord Belric Blackfort on Dec 15, 2016 16:50:27 GMT
"The war made men of us all." Responded Belric, holding out a closed fist. "May the gods grant the two of your grace. Who here is going to stand an challenge Lord Piper and his son for glory and title?" He roared to the room, his arms held wide as he helped instigate tension.
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Jormun Rivers
Guardsman
He's probably with Dacey.
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Post by Jormun Rivers on Dec 16, 2016 19:07:38 GMT
"Perhaps we could go to the yard and train for a while once we won't be missed. Then again.." Jormun smiled at Dacey before turning to Belric, raising his fist in the air. "For the glory of House Blackfort and Harrenhal, brother."
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The Gambler
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Post by The Gambler on Dec 16, 2016 20:16:15 GMT
Jormun chuckled at the memory of the feast. "If this is going to be anything like that show, it's best we both leave now. At least then we can say we had no part when the rest of the Riverlands declare war on us." "Perhaps I'd like part in that," replied Dacey with a slight smile to indicate she was joking... mostly, and scanned the room idly for any signs of Lord Smallwood's presence. "What did you have in mind?" she inquired, assuming Jormun had some kind of alternative to this gathering. Dacey did not have to look hard, as the lord of Acorn Hall, clad in a green and yellow doublet, was weaving his way through the crowd towards the siblings, or more accurately towards Jormun. "There is the champion of Armistead's Crossing in the flesh!" Lord Lucas said in greeting, clapping the huntsman on the shoulder, speaking in the air of someone discussing a minor business disagreement rather than a conflict that had cost lives. "Half a decade of war and I have never seen a duel quite like that. You must share a drink with me."
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Jormun Rivers
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He's probably with Dacey.
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Post by Jormun Rivers on Dec 16, 2016 20:28:02 GMT
Jormun bows his head, meeting the Lord's gaze afterwards with a chuckle. "I've never fought a man like that before, and can't say I'd want to again. If I didn't know better, I'd swear his father had been a bear. I would be honored to drink with you."
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The Gambler
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Post by The Gambler on Dec 16, 2016 20:32:14 GMT
Ser Willem was lingering at the back of the room garbed in his nicest vestments, which were needless to say rather plain and unimpressive. His sword hung by his side as a precaution should any fool take it upon themselves to prove their worth by attacking the great ravensbane. Willis stood near Willem, keeping an eye on the crowd and sipping some mead. He had done his best to dress up as befit his new title, but it was clear he was not used to finery. He played with his new signet ring and repeatedly unbuttoned and rebuttoned the top of his tunic, depending on how whatever lord or well-off knight he looked at wore theirs. Oh well, he'd likely calm down after a few drinks. "Seven help us, they all gonna make fuckin' speeches before we get to have a party?" He whispered to Willem. There was a short jangle from the bells on his motley as Belric's court jester seemed to materialize behind Willem and Willis, far too close for comfort to the whispering cousins. After being discovered walled in beneath the dark dungeons of Harrenhal, the man had taken naturally to his appointed position. Though no one knew his name, most simply just called him Marbles, as he always carried around a little pouch of clay marbles (despite having clearly lost his own) to play with anyone who was willing. A few servants had complained on slipping on them in the halls, as if Harrenhal wasn't a death trap as it was. "Yes, yes, they must be careful or they'll let all the air out," he said in a hushed conspiratorial tone as if this were a grave concern, joining the conversation, clearly also liking to whisper. "Whether blowing air from their mouth or their arse, it makes little difference in such a farce. And if the smell doesn't kill you straight away, best of luck keeping the daggers at bay."
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The Gambler
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Post by The Gambler on Dec 16, 2016 20:38:23 GMT
Jormun bows his head, meeting the Lord's gaze afterwards with a chuckle. "I've never fought a man like that before, and can't say I'd want to again. If I didn't know better, I'd swear his father had been a bear. I would be honored to drink with you." "A pity he wasn't worth his weight in gold," Lord Smallwood quipped. "Not that I envied your position. A lesser man would have shat himself and run." He seemed to suddenly notice standing there. "Apologies, that was language terribly unbecoming in the presence of a lady. War makes boors of us all, so it is good to have events like these to remind us of our manners."
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The Gambler
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Post by The Gambler on Dec 16, 2016 20:40:39 GMT
Violet was dressed in one of her bests gowns, purchased from the seamstress Sansa in Harrentown. It was emerald green velvet with a darker green lace trimming. She also wore a hairnet set with tiny emeralds and a pair of gold bangles. She listened respectfully to the speeches, confident that she looked her best. She caught the eye of Ser Whalen Bracken in the crowd, who winked at her as their gazes met. Maybe it was her dress or maybe that she was promised to another man, but it was clear she had his attention now.
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The Raven
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Post by The Raven on Dec 16, 2016 20:40:54 GMT
"The war made men of us all." Responded Belric, holding out a closed fist. "May the gods grant the two of your grace. Who here is going to stand an challenge Lord Piper and his son for glory and title?" He roared to the room, his arms held wide as he helped instigate tension. "I'll settle for the coin." A tall man spoke from the Frey table. This was not the young Lord Orland, only a few years older than good Nyles would be, but another fellow who insisted on leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms through the pageant. This fellow was Ser Aerys Frey, a distant cousin to the main line, and reputedly to their great delight. "But perhaps I'd do it for free." He stroked his distinguished beard, which had marked him out well at the Siege of Riverrun. Though it was well understood Lady Tully still tightly controlled her old house, keeping her younger brother under her thumb, it was Ser Aerys who regularly lead the Crossing's men in battle. According to rumor, he laid his bed with other men and would have been burned alive by his puritanical cousin Alynna if he hadn't earned his spurs so many times over. Lord Orland Frey stood up laughing, perhaps even genuinely. "Indeed, House Frey stands ready for your tourney, Lord Blackfort. I look forward to finally meeting the Ravensbane on the field. We sorely missed out on your exploits while you were running about the Stormlands and are eager to see the legend in action." Ser Aerys stood up with an annoyed expression and began wandering the room of his own accord. Eventually, he found the castle maester. He leaned against the stone wall as he poured himself something to drink. "You. Maester. I am told you are extremely vexing to your liege, a shame to your family, and only favored for your merit. If so, it seems a waste not to make your acquaintance."
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Post by Tim of Raventree on Dec 16, 2016 20:50:02 GMT
She caught the eye of Ser Whalen Bracken in the crowd, who winked at her as their gazes met. Maybe it was her dress or maybe that she was promised to another man, but it was clear she had his attention now. Violet's cheeks pinkened slightly. She had almost forgotten Ser Whalen, after everything that happened, but now the memory of that night in which she had attempted to catch his attention came rushing back to her. Fortunately, he'd been drunk, so she hoped he might not remember the details perfectly. Since she was a proper lady now and a betrothed woman whose brother was hosting the festivities, she thought it would only be appropriate to make her courtesies to her brother's guests, After all, she had not yet managed to find her betrothed in the crowd, and it seemed most unwise for a Blackfort lady to lurk in the shadows. So she moved towards Ser Whalen, smiling. "Greetings, ser. How do you enjoy Harrenhal?"
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The Gambler
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Post by The Gambler on Dec 16, 2016 21:07:25 GMT
"I am enjoying it much more now in the presence of such a stunning beauty," he replied gallantly, taking her hand and kissing it, clearly far more mannered without drink or gambling tables. "I am Ser Whalen Bracken, heir to Stone Hedge. And you must be Lady Violet Blackfort. I had heard Lucamore's promised bride was beautiful, but the stories did not do you justice."
Clearly her concerns regarding Whalen remembering the details of their encounter at the wedding perfectly were not warranted. He did not appear to remember her at all.
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Post by Tim of Raventree on Dec 16, 2016 21:42:26 GMT
She smiled with genuine pleasure. Compliments had been few and far between at the motherhouse and she loved feeling beautiful and desirable, though she knew part of that was linked to her status.
"You are too kind, ser. I know the knights of Stone Hedge are the souls of chivalry. Do you know my betrothed well?"
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