Pyke Harbour

[Fel]

Felryn grins at Ser Patrek, the man had not enjoyed the journey from King's Landing.

"What do you think of the Islands, Redfort?"

[Lord Howland Royce]

"Seems a bit grey to me, no offense, maybe I will have time to get a better opinion when the sea sickness wears off, Lord Harlaw," Patrek grimaces.

[Fel]

Felryn laughed and threw an arm over Patrek's shoulders, "can you not feel the strength of it, though? Breath in deeply," he commanded, and did so himself aswell at the same time, then released the air from his lungs with satisfaction.

"That is the smell of iron and salt, of blood and sweat, of stormy sky and wild sea. It is home, you will grow to love it, as will the prince."

[Lord Howland Royce]

As Ser Redforts breathe deeply in, he gulps a bit in his mouth, but manages to force it down again.

"Only time will tell, though no doubt there will be a lot of Pykes of royal blood when the Prince grows up".

[Fel]

Felryn laughs, "I had not considered that, I wonder if they will be the first royal Pykes."

[Lord Howland Royce]

Patrek snorts, "I doubt it, no doubt King Robert Baratheon, first of his name, celebrated his victories here", unconcerned about Felryn's reaction to the mention of the Greyjoy rebellion.

[Fel]

Felryn nodded, "ah yes, undoubtedly Robert the Randy did indeed plant his seed here after defeating Old Balon, but I don't believe he ever acknowledged any, so it would still stand."

[Lord Howland Royce]

Patrek nods, "True enough that. What do you plan to teach the prince while he is here?"

[Fel]

"Sailing, fighting, drinking. How to lead men and how to turn enemies into allies. That words are sometimes better at achieving one's end then wars are, a concept little understood on these islands," he said with a grin.

"I will teach him all he needs to be a fierce warrior that all will follow. Things like proper etiquette and jousting and other nonsense I leave to you," Felryn said.

[Lord Howland Royce]

Patrek grimaces at the last part. "I hope you constrain yourself on the drinking part," he sais.

[Fel]

Felryn chuckles, "come, come, Patrek, being able to drink is an important skill. I have won many a lord over to my causes over a horn of ale."

[Lord Howland Royce]

"He is eight years old," Patrek said deadpan.

[Fel]

Felryn snorts, "he will not be eight forever, Redfort, and from what I have heard he has an appetite for ale already."

"Do you know what weapon the prince favours? The Baratheons often grow into big men, I wonder if he prefers to wield a sword or a heavier weapon."

[Lord Howland Royce]

"The twins are as different as night and day, and the King prefers the sword. Give him a two handed hammer and he will no doubt thank you later."

[Fel]

Felryn laughs, "a hammer it is for the prince then."

He points out a sparring area near the harbour, "if you have recovered from your seasickness, I'd like to get your own measure with a weapon."