Pineshore

[Ollie]

Located at the mouth of the Snakewater, Pineshore is a small costal village built within the husk of a crumbled, fallen castle. No one can seem to recall the actual name of the castle, not even Ser Marrick himself, but all know the one surviving, albeit dilapidated tower in the middle of the town as the Pinekeep, where Ser Marrick and his son Ser Marten reside.

While the villagers of Pineshore number somewhere just below a hundred, there seems to be housing enough for double that, timber cottages sprouting up between and around the crumbled stone walls like little thatch-roofed mushrooms after a spring rain. Most have seen better days, and only their state of disrepair can give any hint as to how long they’ve been abandoned.

A natural treeline of great, ancient pines lines the rocky shore, providing a natural windbreak from the otherwise unfortunately ill-tempered bay. In ages past, Pineshore used to depend on trade through their modest port, though over time the prevalence of other, more profitable routes combined with the rough sailing between the Fingers caused the village to slowly whither. The peasants survive by fishing the Snakewater and outlying bay, the latter being far more profitable and dangerous than the former. They also manage to scrounge by through minor trade with the neighboring Coldwater, Sunkenwood, and Mistgrove, though the goods they produce are limited to woodcrafts, a dabbling in blacksmithing, and food trade.

[Tallahar]

Geran with his axe on his shoulder and small tunic on his back walks down to the small town of Pineshore. Its obvious he's been working as the man is sweating.

[Ollie]

Ser Marten slowed his mount into a canter as he approached the town, turning to the man beside him and laughing heartily. Bodily, he was nearly spitting image of his father, raven black hair spilling down to his shoulders yet with none of the grey, tall and lithe, well muscled underneath his black ringmail. Ser Marten's took his comely looks from his late mother, however, his handsome features the envy of men and dream of women.

As he spied the woodsman, the young Belgrave reigned in his mare and came to a stop, The burgundy cape fastened about his shoulders stirring in the coastal wind. "Ho there, Wat!" he chuckled, holding a gloved hand in the air, "There be an axeman in the road!"

[Ollie]

"What be the courtesy in that, boy?" he said, turning his direction to Geran, smiling. "Hail, woodsman! Where are you off to?"

[Tallahar]

Geran looked up, "Pineshore Ser. I have need of supplies."

[Ollie]

Ser Marten's grin widened at the ser, white teeth flashing. "Pineshore, hmm? As it happens, that's our destination as well. You'll walk with us, of course. What do they call you, woodsman?"

[Tallahar]

"Geran the Woodsman, Goodser. I am son of the Blacksmith for Pinekeep. I never took to the trade so I now a simple woodsman."

[Ollie]

"Geran, of course! " he chuckled, as if they had been lifelong friends. "Please, we'll accompany you home. You cannot be too careful, what with Norburys slithering about the wood. Come."

Ser Marten and Wat set off down the path at a slow pace so that the woodsman might follow. "Are you finding Snakewood well? Pine needles, pine trees, and pine cones. Bliss, is it not?"

[Tallahar]

"All I need is more Trees and I'll make a living. Everyone needs more wood."

[Ollie]

Ser Marten laughed heartily, tossing his raven black locks behind his shoulder. "We've plenty of trees in Snakewood, Geran! My father always has need of goodmen to work his lands."

The young knight fished a silver stag from within his coin pouch and flipped it to the woodsman. "For the conversation, and for your good work," he said with a wink.

[Tallahar]

Geran manged to stay calm and bows to the Knight, "Thank you Ser you are too generous."

[Ollie]

"Ha-ha! A knight need not worry about his generosity, especially when it comes to the loyal goodmen of his lands! Besides, I'll receive a hefty sum in Lord Lynderly's tournament," Ser Marten boasted confidently.

"... You have heard word of the tourney, I trust? Wat here has come to announce it to the village, for any that might wish to participate," he informed the woodsman, gesturing to the boy riding next to him.

[Tallahar]

"I am no fighter GoodSer only a simple Woodsman."

[Ollie]

Marten chuckled. "Nor did I expect you to, Geran. I would be loath to have to wallop you should our paths cross in the melee! You will attend, of course?"

In the distance, the town of Pineshore loomed before them. "Go ahead Wat, bring up the cry of the tourney. My father will be enthused, I am sure."

The knight turned back to the woodsman. "You will be attending, of course? A tourney ought be grand excitement," he flashed a grin. "Take that silver stag and place it on my name. See if you can breed a few more, eh?"

[Tallahar]

Geran nods, "I shall think about Ser."