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Post by Ollie on Dec 2, 2008 0:57:10 GMT -5
On the eastern slope of Rhaenys' Hill in the shadow of the ruined Dragonpit lies the Scarlet Manor, a three story affair with vivacious red walls and bold black accents. The sprawling estate is surrounded by comfortable patios and immaculate gardens of crimson, carmine, and scarlet flowers, protected by high walls of red sandstone and black wrought iron. With a commanding view of both the Blackwater Bay to the east and the Red Keep to the south, the Scarlet Manor is widely known not only for its exquisite appearance, but also for its lavish, boisterous parties and equally lavish, boisterous guests.
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Post by Ollie on Dec 2, 2008 6:07:21 GMT -5
The manor becomes a hive of activity, men of every and any sort of description coming and going in preparation for what could only be some type of major event.
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Post by Lord Gaspard Yronwood on Dec 2, 2008 21:38:30 GMT -5
Lord Martyn Lefford, all plain face and perfect manners, arrives to learn what sort of foolishness the decadent Dornish are capable of.
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Post by Ollie on Dec 2, 2008 23:18:43 GMT -5
A green-bearded guard looks from the Lord Lefford to his invitation and back again several times. When he finally does speak, it is with a voice that gives the impression that his undergarments are a size too small and a shade too frilly.
"With all do respect, my good Lord Lefford, we are sad to inform you that you have arrived a midge too early. Though we are sure you are aware of it, the date is only mid-January. As noted in your invitation the evening is scheduled for the last day in January. You have graced us with your presence nearly two weeks in advance..."
The guard hands back the folded invitation, and gives Martyn an obvious up and down with eyes masked in a rich green liner that appears more gaudy by the second. "Please, there is no embarrassment on your part, milord. Many others have stumbled here early early as well," he lied.
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Post by Lord Gaspard Yronwood on Dec 3, 2008 5:17:31 GMT -5
He looks about with a strange mixture of relief and disappointment. "Pity... I'm liable to have my head on a spike by then... my apologies to you and your master, then."
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Post by Ollie on Dec 3, 2008 22:33:34 GMT -5
On the last eve of the January, the wrought iron gates are thrown open. Red paper lanterns guide the way to the tall, carmine double doors of the Scarlet Manor, and tinkling, merry music invite the guests in. Gaily costumed guards in green and welcome the well-to-do lords and ladies as they enter, glancing at each invitation approvingly and checking weapons at the door. The whole affair is really gorgeous and extravagant in an over-the-top way that fringes on gaudiness.
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Tristy
Hedge Knight
Posts: 372
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Post by Tristy on Dec 3, 2008 23:06:59 GMT -5
Ephira could barely be seen as she arrived at the Scarlet Manor, hidden as she was behind eyes which tended to grow to enormous proportions when faced with any new sight; here, indeed, was a cavernous, sprawling home, beautiful, and imposing in it's appearance, which might indeed unlock the mystery around which her life had come to revolve.
She was surrounded by a modest group of men who were her travelling companions--they were slight in number, especially compared with the much more sizable group which had escorted her from Sunspear to King's Landing. She wore a simple, dark blue frock, devoid of any ornamentation, and only the glimmering black dagger at her side implied that she had a single cent to spare.
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Post by Tallahar on Dec 3, 2008 23:16:24 GMT -5
A single man walked into the Party at the Scarlet Manor. He wore very fashionable clothing that was mostly grey making him 'fuzzy' in the shadows.
He looked around took some wine then looked for the Host of this Party.
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Post by Horas on Dec 3, 2008 23:36:18 GMT -5
King Rodrick himself arrives, in high spirits, surrounded by several of his closest friends. It is clear that the king has already been drinking tonight. He roars with laughter at a joke told by Ipithius Tides and slaps the tall Myrman on the back.
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Post by Tallahar on Dec 3, 2008 23:48:13 GMT -5
Damin glances at the King and decides to move away from the loud and very drunk man. Everyone knew the Kings anger was always very close when he was drunk and it didn't help that Damin was a Mandermen.
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Post by Horas on Dec 3, 2008 23:50:31 GMT -5
A group of Riverlanders enter the manor. One dour looking man in Blackwood colors clings close to the wall, looking awkward and out of place. No less that six Freys enter soon after and make for the refreshments table.
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Post by Tallahar on Dec 3, 2008 23:56:50 GMT -5
Damin decides to inch closer to a Blackwood. "Welcome to Kings Landing Master Blackwood. Which branch are you from?"
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Post by Horas on Dec 4, 2008 0:00:20 GMT -5
The Blackwood glances sideways at Damin. "Raventree Hall. Come here to try to make amends with the King..." He takes a look at the drunken Baratheon. "That or be executed, I suppose." He tries a wry smile and falls just short. "My name is Eddard. And you are?"
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Post by Tallahar on Dec 4, 2008 0:02:44 GMT -5
"Damin Tyrell youngest son of the Dawn Raider. My brother died fighting in the Trial so I'm here to see what will become of my House."
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Post by Horas on Dec 4, 2008 0:02:42 GMT -5
Lord Daven Lonmouth, commander of the Stormland forces, arrives at the party. With his wiry orange hair and bushy eyebrows, he quite resembles an angry fox.
Ser Harral Tudbury, a rather chubby Stormlands knight with the brown turtle of his house displayed proudly on his surcoat arrives as well.
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Hope you all are well and happy.