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Post by Viea Greyjoy on Sept 6, 2013 11:08:52 GMT -5
Jen raised an eyebrow, smiled and inclined her head to the Lannister woman. "Fair greeting." Se said softly to her. Winifred looked at Jen Greyjoy with what seemed like faint approval. The young lady was appropriately demure and well-spoken, not wild like most of those ironborn wenches or so awkward as that less refined, less pretty sister of hers. "Well met, my child," she said coolly. "Well met indeed." Jen said. "I hope that you travelled well and it wasn't too arduous for you." She ignored the child behind her for now, knowing that he would be bored.
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Post by Deleted on Sept 6, 2013 11:21:47 GMT -5
He chuckles. "I am not the lord, my Father still holds Riverrun, but I thank you for the complement." He nods at his explanation. "Well I do hope it will not be as flooded with snow come Winter. Uneventful or not, I am glad the clans were smart enough to attack one of the more prominent Vale of Arryn houses." Ser Malcolm looked a bit puzzled at Harold, as the man didn't seem to understand his form of adress, maybe the riverlords were different than those in the Vale. "Let us hope that Winter does not come for several years now, I am quite content with the weather we are enjoying now. Besides there are always snow up in the mountains, but we've been spared the last couple of years now. The clans might be many things, but stupid is not one of them. They know better than to attack a greater force than they know that they can handle. So how was your journey here, my lord?"
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Post by Lord Harold Tully on Sept 6, 2013 11:33:41 GMT -5
"As you would expect, the Riverlands are normally quiet, a few bandits on the road, but nothing in compare to the Mountain Clans you face. The bandits we have are mostly cowards, attacking only small groups of armed guards they feel they can overpower, or farmers transporting their produce to the Market." He sighs, "There is a difference between people who are fighting to continue a lost cause, and others who simply want to see the next bag of stags."
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Post by Viea Greyjoy on Sept 6, 2013 11:34:17 GMT -5
"The travel was tolerable," Lady Winifred said. "My husband sees to my every comfort, so the children and I were settled in a wheelhouse. Aurane here likes to ride with his father," here she gave her fair haired son an indulgent look, "but I am quite happy to be inside the wheelhouse with my cushions." Jen yet again raised an eyebrow, to her comfort showed that you were weak. "That sounds... wonderful... for you." She said with no trace of sarcasm in her voice. "It must be such a hard ride from Casterly Rock to here without a wheelhouse." Even the child showed more sense... She thought.
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Post by Deleted on Sept 6, 2013 11:45:06 GMT -5
"As you would expect, the Riverlands are normally quiet, a few bandits on the road, but nothing in compare to the Mountain Clans you face. The bandits we have are mostly cowards, attacking only small groups of armed guards they feel they can overpower, or farmers transporting their produce to the Market." He sighs, "There is a difference between people who are fighting to continue a lost cause, and others who simply want to see the next bag of stags." Ser Malcolm nodded, but didn't really know if he agreed with the point that the future lord of Tully was trying to make. There wasn't really any difference in his opinion, a bandit was a bandit, no matter the cause for his actions. Not really sure what to do next, he stopped a servant and took two mugs of ale from him and offered one to Harold. "Let us refresh our throats from the long journey, this is a celebration after all."
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Post by Viea Greyjoy on Sept 6, 2013 12:14:54 GMT -5
Jen laughed.
"Lady Lannister, I have a suitable match, and my son is here too." She moved slightly to show the boy. "I do not need my brother to find me a match."
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Post by Viea Greyjoy on Sept 6, 2013 12:22:40 GMT -5
"I am a Willfyre." Jen replied, "I am a Greyjoy at heart though,and my husband is rarely home. It is easier to be left as a Greyjoy at such occasions with such a little known name... do you not think?"
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Post by Prince Anders Martell on Sept 6, 2013 12:45:45 GMT -5
Prince Anders looks about, quietly sipping a glass of wine and taking in the scene. He had never been much for crowds, but the women were beautiful and the food was delectable, if less spicy than he preferred. Being neither heir nor a social butterfly, he wears well-made but simple garb in Martell colors.
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Post by Quenton Baratheon on Sept 6, 2013 13:05:33 GMT -5
Having broken away from the clutches of his family temporarily, young Quenton Baratheon, second teenage son of the Lord of Storm's End, begins to explore. Making his way randomly through the assembled throng, he looks about himself with hungry eyes, noting the different styles of dress worn by nobles of different regions. At one moment his eye is caught by a large passing knight dressed all in black - a splendid, hulking creature... unfortunately as his head is turned he continues walking in a straight line and directly into the back of a woman in her late twenties or early thirties. His chest and the side of his head collide with her, his face screwing up awkwardly in surprise at the collision. His attention snaps back, his expression appalled.
"Oh! I am so..." he begins nervously.
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Post by Quenton Baratheon on Sept 6, 2013 13:13:39 GMT -5
Quenton's expression, at first horrified, softens slightly to match Lady Winifred's.
"I am Quenton Baratheon. I am so sorry I walked into you... I will... look where I am going in future." He casts his eyes downwards.
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Post by Viea Greyjoy on Sept 6, 2013 13:17:12 GMT -5
"It is a little known family on the greenland." Jen was saying when the child bumped into the woman. She smothered her laugh with her hand.
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Post by Ser Aemon Tully on Sept 6, 2013 13:18:01 GMT -5
Ser Aemon enters the hall with his wife on his arm, they both have simple blue clothing on, with red interspersed in it. Over the sound of his cane tapping and the adults footfalls, you could here a smaller set of steps. All of a sudden a boy came into view, he was tiny with a bull cut and kept close to his grandfather's ankles.
Aemon stopped upon entering and surveyed the crowd, looking for his grand nephew Harold. He whispered something in his wife's ear and she took the boy's hand and lead him towards the food.
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Post by Lord Harold Tully on Sept 6, 2013 13:18:33 GMT -5
"As you would expect, the Riverlands are normally quiet, a few bandits on the road, but nothing in compare to the Mountain Clans you face. The bandits we have are mostly cowards, attacking only small groups of armed guards they feel they can overpower, or farmers transporting their produce to the Market." He sighs, "There is a difference between people who are fighting to continue a lost cause, and others who simply want to see the next bag of stags." Ser Malcolm nodded, but didn't really know if he agreed with the point that the future lord of Tully was trying to make. There wasn't really any difference in his opinion, a bandit was a bandit, no matter the cause for his actions. Not really sure what to do next, he stopped a servant and took two mugs of ale from him and offered one to Harold. "Let us refresh our throats from the long journey, this is a celebration after all." He took a mug and nodded with a smile. "You are most right, we are here to celebrate a marriage, a union under the seven. I see no reason we can not partake in the merriment." after takeing a drink of the ale, he asked. "And how bears your well being, and that of your wife and son?"
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Post by Tynian Lannister on Sept 6, 2013 13:22:17 GMT -5
While the ladies were chatting incessantly about something or other, Gerion managed to lift a drink from a passing servant, pausing only to grope her behind as he did so. He took a large, long swallow of the strong Arbor wine and blinked a few times as he noticed the small crowd which had gathered around them. He scowled at the thin, spotty youth. "I thought the Baratheons were a warrior family. I guess the apple fell far from the tree, in your case" he scowled. His brow crinkled in thought "Oh wait, that's the Reach or something isn't it? The stupid family with the apple on their shield?" he scratched his chin, still scowling at the young man.
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Post by Quenton Baratheon on Sept 6, 2013 13:23:40 GMT -5
This coaxed an uncontrollable smile out of the boy.
"I would like to be a great man, just like my father. Is your husband taking part in the joust? Who is he?" The child asked, somewhat excitedly, his earlier embarrassment apparently forgotten.
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