The Pinekeep

[Ollie]

Ser Marrick Belgrave possesses lands of eastern Snakewood, as well as the last remaining keep in House Belgrave control: The Pineskeep. Being the last reaming tower of a forgotten, long-ruined castle, The Pinekeep itself is in poor repair, the crumbling white stone seemingly held together by sheer will alone. The inside is as richly appointed as an impoverished landed Knightly House can manage, decorated with relics from House Belgrave’s noble history, and everywhere the burgundy and black of their arms. The outside: Round, wide based and rising seven floors from the earth, the derelict battlements atop the tower still manage to give a commanding view into Snakewood and out across the bay.

Ser Marrick became the patriarch for his house after the death of his father near two decades ago, a noble, prideful man who instilled his dreams of regaining House Belgrave’s past glory unto his equally noble, prideful son.

Now, after several years, the deaths of his brothers, sister, daughters, and wife Guinevere have left the 49-year old landed knight with naught but his charming young son, Ser Marten. The young Belgrave was recently knighted after the taking of Harrenhal at the end of the Basilisk Invasion, the honor only amplifying his already brave, cocksure nature.

[Tallahar]

Riva walks through the very small yard of Pinefort, "My knee's telling me it's going to rain." Says the older man to no one important.

[Ollie]

A sandy haired youth with a ripe crop of pimples glances up at the Captain of the Guard. "Your... Knee? Your knee says it? Says it's gonna rain?" he asked in a crackling, pubescent voice. He held a pinewood stave, and was leaning his weight heavily against it, vainly trying to avoid staring at the man's empty eye socket.

[Tallahar]

Looking down at the little boy, "Oh it's.... don't worry."

[Ollie]

The youth looked about to croak a confused reply, when he was interrupted by a gale of laughter nearby. Ser Marrick Belgrave trotted in on a mare, his son easily matching his stride beside him.

"Captain Riva, I want my men assembled and ready to march by first light, is that understood?" the elder Belgrave commanded. In truth, there were at most five Belgrave men-at-arms, and assembling them would be no great chore, but the air of nobility he carried made old family habits die hard.

[Tallahar]

Riva bowed his head, "They shall be M'Lord." Riva used the far more noble term for Ser Belgrave as the man was in his commanding mood.

[Ollie]

Ser Marrick smiled. "Goodman, Commander. You will be fighting in the tourney, I trust? Every man of Belgrave who fights is one less Norbury who leaves the field unscathed."

[Tallahar]

"Of course I will be. I may not be pretty to look at but I can still use a sword."

[Ollie]

"Of course you can," Ser Marten chimed in with a laugh, clapping the captain on his back. "You're a Belgrave man, aren't you?"

[Tallahar]

"To the death M'Lord."

[Ollie]

"Good man," Ser Marrick said, before nudging his mare into a cater and heading towards the Pinekeep, leaving his son and captain of the guard behind.

"So, Captain Riva, how are you on this fine, shining morning?" he asked, with all the joy of a youth without a care in the world.

[Tallahar]

"Sore. I'm sore when I wake up, I'm sore when I work and I'm sore when I go to sleep. I hate getting old."

[Ollie]

"Bah, nonsense," Ser Marten said lightly, brushing away the old man's worries with a wave of his hand. "Look at you, you're carrying the scars of half a dozen stories, full of bravery and valor! There must be a woman in the village who can ease away that soreness, eh?"

[Tallahar]

"And she costs 3 copper Stars."

[Ollie]

The Pineglory made a soft tsking noise. "I speak of a love that comes free and willing, with a face so lovely the Maiden herself would envy. Have you ever had that, Captain?"