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Post by Lord Donal Stormshield on Sept 23, 2013 20:59:31 GMT -5
The newly appointed Lord Donal Stormshield is among those not on the high table with the other nobles seated next to the Selmys and some of the other knightly houses of the Stormlands. He along with half of the table are already well into their drinks celebrating his good fortune and they don't even notice the procession of his family members into the hall.
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Post by Sam on Sept 23, 2013 21:11:33 GMT -5
Lord Baratheon eyed the seating arrangements, and nodded, pleased. There were certainly a number of his bannermen whose sisters or aunts who had borne one of Lord Sammael's seven illegitimate children, of whom five lived and were present varying in age between 7 and 46, and all were seated strategically not to inflame old tensions. With his hand on Lady Eleanor's, he took his seat at the head of the dais.
"It is my honor to host you, my lords. Storm's End welcomes you, as always," he said laconically, signaling for the feast to begin.
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Post by The Smith on Sept 23, 2013 21:21:32 GMT -5
Lord Jenson walked into the hall his white shirt stained with wine. His boots sparkled with a careful polish. His belt was slung over his shoulder, and his sword's scabbard hanging from the belt. His wine skin dribbled as he stumbled into the room.
In his hurry, it seems like Lord Jenson had forgotten his pants though. Luckily he was wearing his small cloths.
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Post by Lord Oswyn Baratheon on Sept 24, 2013 3:36:34 GMT -5
Behind him came Lord Oswyn, with Lady Amelia on his arm Claiming that Amelia was "on his arm" would have been a magnanimous kindness. It was not a term most of the gathered lords would have used, as Oswyn was carried into the hall by attendants, his wife shuffling beside him with admirable poise and grace in light of the situation. As the heir to Stormlands was carefully seated at the high table, he did his utmost to avoid eye contact from the gathered lords. This was hardly a state he wanted men that would one day owe him their allegiance to see him in. Though most had seen him fight valiantly in the Sterpstones, memories were short and reputations were fickle.
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Post by Lord Yohn Baratheon on Sept 24, 2013 10:43:58 GMT -5
Lord Baratheon eyed the seating arrangements, and nodded, pleased. There were certainly a number of his bannermen whose sisters or aunts who had borne one of Lord Sammael's seven illegitimate children, of whom five lived and were present varying in age between 7 and 46, and all were seated strategically not to inflame old tensions. With his hand on Lady Eleanor's, he took his seat at the head of the dais. "It is my honor to host you, my lords. Storm's End welcomes you, as always," he said laconically, signaling for the feast to begin. The doors creaked loudly open mildly interrupting the music. Yohn and his misfit of a family entered the hall. While the the admiral held his usual frown, his wife grinned with a sarcastic pride across her lips. Right behind them, almost hidden, came Harlan, wearing red a red velvet tunic looking blankly at the other invitees. The three of them approached the place where Sammael was sitting. "My lord brother..." Yohn said grimly as he gave a slow bow, hoping his brother wouldn't comment the matte of his recent defeat, for that was their first meeting after the incident.
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Post by Sam on Sept 25, 2013 6:28:40 GMT -5
Lord Sammael eyed his brother with a simultaneously irritable and amused expression; he'd never liked that Volantene concubine of his, but had tolerated her presence in Storm's End instead of forcing Yohn to put her aside and find a true wife, preferably one with lands and a title to support him. "Where the hell have you been?" he snapped, as Yohn approached. "The rest of the fleet gathered weeks ago. It is rather impolite to make someone wait, when they are about to bestow upon you land and a lordship," he added dryly.
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Post by Sam on Sept 25, 2013 6:35:09 GMT -5
Lord Jenson walked into the hall his white shirt stained with wine. His boots sparkled with a careful polish. His belt was slung over his shoulder, and his sword's scabbard hanging from the belt. His wine skin dribbled as he stumbled into the room. In his hurry, it seems like Lord Jenson had forgotten his pants though. Luckily he was wearing his small cloths. Alyn Tarth and Ser Aemon Mertyns approach Lord Jensen. "My lord Wylde," Tarth said deftly, in a calm voice, "You have forgotten your breeches, and my lord Baratheon has asked me to assist you in finding them," he added, as a snickering Ser Aemon gently took the Lord's elbow, and turned him toward the nearest staircase, which led up toward the guest apartments. "If you will follow me this way..."
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Post by Lord Yohn Baratheon on Sept 25, 2013 10:47:05 GMT -5
"This blunder shan't repeat itself..." Yohn gave a solemn bow. "And it's an honor you bestow upon me brother." He said dryly, frowning as if he had just been condemned to the block. But deep inside, behind his stone heart, maybe he was grinning like a child.
Meletyne just smiled wider and gave a bow.
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Post by The Smith on Sept 25, 2013 11:31:55 GMT -5
Jensen growled at the men but went with them.
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Post by Lord Oswyn Baratheon on Sept 25, 2013 17:55:48 GMT -5
Oswyn ate sparsely of the succulent selection before him, but drank steadily from a goblet filled to the brim with pear brandy, his favored boon from his new keep.
He avoided his uncle's gaze, not having shared only sparse words with the man since splitting his son's skull upon the block.
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Post by Lord Donal Stormshield on Sept 25, 2013 18:15:52 GMT -5
A roar of laughter can be heard from Donal's table as Lord Jenson is escorted from the hall, with things quieting down slightly as Donal's half uncle enters the hall. Donal watches the meeting between Lord and brother as he continues drinking with his friends and peers from among House Selmy and a couple knights from House Buckler also joining in.
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Post by Lord Yohn Baratheon on Sept 25, 2013 20:26:08 GMT -5
Oswyn ate sparsely of the succulent selection before him, but drank steadily from a goblet filled to the brim with pear brandy, his favored boon from his new keep. He avoided his uncle's gaze, not having shared only sparse words with the man since splitting his son's skull upon the block. Looking at the ground, Harlan went towards his cousin's table. He could feel his father judging him for it, but it had to be done. "Cousin Oswyn..." The bastard's voice sounded soft as always, but this time with a little tick of sorrow. "I... I believe I owe you an apology. It may not be enough but it's what 'my Lord' tells me to do..."
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Post by Lord Oswyn Baratheon on Sept 25, 2013 20:34:37 GMT -5
"Your debt for the lies was paid with the lashes upon your back and your brother's for murder was paid with his life." Oswyn said evenly, speaking with Harlan even though a bastard approaching the high table was not customary. "As far as I am concerned, your debt is paid and no further apology needed. If you wish to offer apologies after all this time, offer them to my wife, as it were her household knights that suffered for your folly."
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Post by Lord Yohn Baratheon on Sept 25, 2013 20:50:07 GMT -5
Harlan nodded sadly and turned to Amelia. "My lady... Is after six years that I come before you, to ask for your forgiveness."
"Is only through forgiveness that we can reach eternity... For two years after the incident, I hated both myself and my brother for what happened." His hands clutched a red ruby, just a trinket he held superstitiously. "But my travels across the East showed me the light, and helped me face the past..."
"My brother was not the best of men, I must tell, but what are we all if not mere men, tempted to fall under the influence of evil?!?!" He asked. "And I was young and blinded by love, had to protect my brother was my duty, even when I knew he was wrong."
"I hope m'lady will find a place in her heart to forgive a poor bastard, for The Lord of Light has already done it and thus brought me to you..."
(Is this happening right beside our daddies or is it far away enough just for them no to hear?)
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Post by The Smith on Sept 25, 2013 20:51:46 GMT -5
Lord Jensen returned, and this time he had pants, and his sword on his belt. He walked in and looked around.
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