Ask ASoIaF: Wedding Knight

[The Storyteller]

Rejoice, Lords and Ladies! It's time for a wedding!

Two minor noble houses, at odds with each other for years, are about to be united through an alliance of marriage. Ser Kevan Manning, a young knight and scion of a house sworn to King Robert Baratheon, is to wed Sylvie Harte, the daughter of a rival house. While the somewhat naive Ser Kevan is already in love with the Lady Sylvie, she has other ideas about an arranged marriage to her family’s former enemies, and does not approach the altar a virgin as custom dictates she should. Indeed, she has secretly taken Ser Etan Hogg, a knight of her father’s household, as her lover, and seeks to be with him against her family’s wishes. The Lords of House Manning and House Harte have staked their fates on this arrangement, though each has their own designs and motivations. Tensions are high as the nuptials approach, and few can say for certain what the future holds...

Into this nest of vipers our heroes step, unwitting to the dangers lurking in the shadows.

Lore Page and Character Sheets
OOC Thread

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The Raven came at dawn, delivering it's little roll of parchment bearing the Lord Thornclair's seal in purplish red wax. Maester Hamden, in his typical doddering fashion, delivered it at once to the Lordling of the House, young Daros Thornclair. While Lord Thornclair was away at Kings Landing assisting the Hand, it fell to his heir to manage the household. At a meeting of the household council, the seal was broken and the parchment read.

Lords Manning and Harte, heads of their houses, had petitioned Lord Jon Arryn, for aid, Lord Thornclair wrote. The Lords had agreed to settle a generations old feud between their houses by way of marriage- Lord Harte's eldest daughter Sylvie to Lord Manning's eldest surviving son, Ser Kevan. They sought for Lord Arryn to appoint a neutral host for the wedding, given their longstanding animosity. Seeing a opportunity to strengthen ties between the Vale and the houses of the Crownlands, Lord Arryn had asked Lord Thornclair to provide the venue. The ceremonies would be simple- a welcoming feast, a hunt, the recital of vows, a reception feast, the bedding, etcetera... The parties were to arrive henceforth, and the Thornclair children were to conduct themselves as the most gracious of hosts. The House would be compensated for their generosity.

Their Father need not tell his children that no foul play should be allowed to befall any of their guests- that much was implied. Weddings in Westeros could be a dangerous thing...

@Sreeya @Phoenix @Orbit @Altaris @Exhilian @Nefieslab

 

[Ayva Thornclair]

Ayva listened to the message as it was read out to the table, and a mixture of excitement and dread seized her all at once. A wedding. In Westeros, such an affair was a true event where alliances would be made and broken. People would vie for power, position, and wealth, and everything could turn on a dime. For her, it was a battlefield as sure as when her brother was out waving his sword in the mountains.

We don't have much time to prepare, she said as the reading finished. House Harte and House Manning have been enemies for a very long time. A marriage might bring them together, but we need to prepare for that bad blood to fester, she said. The statement was as much to Ser Mertyns as her brother. As the master at arms, he would be ultimately responsible for the security of Castle Thorn.

Yes, marriages aren't the strongest bond, she thought to herself, forcibly not looking in the direction of Emphyria as the thought flowed through her mind.

And wedding parties on the road will be an opportunity for bandits, she said. She had heard some Houses hiring sellswords to provide additional security on the roads, but each of those expenditures was another dip into the pocket of the host House. She wondered to herself if this was a reward or a penalty from Lord Arryn. She knew others would be wondering as well.

 

[Daros Thornclair]

Daros had finished reading the message, the heir casually leaning back in his seat with the parchment pinched between his two fingers. It covered his face mostly from the others, hiding how he truly felt about such an affair. A wedding, the statement spoken bitterly inside his own mind. Once the final words of the letter had been read out and he controlled himself, the paper was tossed onto the table to reveal the others to him.

Ayva, his sister, spoke first and displayed her eagerness. Daros' gaze slid over to her as he knew she loved these types of events. He saw how she was able to wrap people in her web and it was terrifying. The only reason he hadn't been trapped yet was that he was her brother, at least he thought.

Daros couldn't help a slight smirk aimed at but when the mention of bad blood came up, he couldn't help his gaze from sliding over to his wife for a moment too, "Yes, we would hate for it to fester." It was no secret that their relationship had soured but no one but them knew specifically why. The Heir's piercing gaze would only last a moment before he returned it to the rest at the table, adding a nod to Ayva about the bandits and his mind shifting into what he knew best.

After a brief few seconds, he glanced over to their Maester, "Maester Hamden, send a raven back to my father. Tell him we will carry out our responsibilities dutifully. Send ravens to both House Manning and Harte as well and inform them we are happy to offer accommodation for their lovely wedding." The Maester nodded but before he could leave, Daros held up a finger, "Also inform them that we are happy to receive them by ship too, the water is stunning."

After that, Daros returned his attention to the table, "That should alleviate some traffic through the mountains to make it easier for us." He then leaned forward with both his elbows resting on the table, "I know the mountains better than anyone here. I'll help plan our watches and protection along the main road." Subtly, in his mind, that meant patrolling with Varn away from the wedding. Daros would then turn his head to his sister and wife, "I trust that you two can throw a party they'll never forget?" His smooth tone indicated this aspect completely fell on them.

 

[Emphyria Thornclair]

The announcement was read out for all of those assembled, and Emphyria allowed herself to recline ever-so-slightly within her chair. The noblewoman kept her icy blue eyes fixed onto the center of the table, silent all but for the rhythmic drumming of her index finger against the wooden surface. While little initial reaction to the news manifested on the exterior, Emphyria’s mind raced - a mixture of excitement and apprehension washing over her.

A wedding.

The words repeated over dozens of times within her mind, echoing across her psyche as she considered exactly what that meant. For all the risk and complication that would come with the preparations, such an affair was just as much a valued opportunity for House Thornclair. Success meant putting their house within the Arryn’s good graces, and it was a chance to build lasting alliances with the other houses in attendance.

Emphyria attention was drawn towards Ayva when the younger Thornclair finally spoke, serving as a reminder that - much to Emphyria’s dismay - her sister-in-law remained an ever-presence voice at the table. The noblewoman’s eyes narrowed ever-so-slightly when the bad blood was mentioned, and she couldn’t help but look back at her husband at the head of the table - locking eyes with the Thornclair heir.

She wordlessly met Daros’ piercing gaze, and the Thornclair heir would see nothing but the noblewoman’s cold and distant expression staring back at him - devoid of any of the budding affection there had once been. It was no secret that their marriage had soured significantly over the past few months, and Daros’ would know exactly the reason for it.

While Emphyria had dutifully endured the knowledge of his infidelity and subsequent bastard child, the scandal had effectively killed that spark there had been in their relationship. Now, she felt little more than indifference towards him.

“With any luck, this marriage will put to bed any bad blood between them.” She gaze flicked over to Ser Mertyns. “Some lingering emnity between the older generations should be expected. Seating arrangements will need to be scrutinized,” She drummed her fingers against the table. “Additional security in and around the kitchens, as well.” It wouldn’t be the first time that someone had been poisoned at a wedding, and Emphyria had little desire to see it occur within her own halls.

The noblewoman allowed her gaze to flick back to Daros when her husband began to elaborate his plans further. The suggestion to ferry the majority of traffic by sea earned him a silent nod, though her eyes narrowed ever-so-slightly when he went on to mention overseeing their land defenses.

“Good,” She said smoothly. “Then I am sure you will be able to sufficiently strategize our defense beforehand and be present for the festivities.” Despite the faint smile on her lips, there was a clear edge to the woman’s tone. She was perfectly aware of her husband’s tendency to flee to the mountains, and while normally she welcomed his absence, this was another matter entirely.

In the absence of his father, Daros was the acting Lord of Castle Thornclair, and his presence at the event was nearly as important as the bride and groom themselves. It was a matter of their House’s reputation, and by extension, her own.

She glanced briefly over to Ayva. “I am sure we can handle the preparations from there.” Emphyria leaned forward in her chair, eyes flicking towards the Maester. “Was there anything else?”

@Sreeya @Orbit @Phoenix @Loco @Nefieslab

 

[The Storyteller]

"Aye mi'ladies," Ser Royce intoned, nodding his head and rubbing the slate grey stubble on his chin thoughtfully as he considered the realm map on the table, "I'll double the Guards an' divy up additional responsibilities amongst the garrison captains, though I fear we'll need some assistance with, err... seating arrangements." The aged knight finished, shooting a glance at Maester Hamden before turning to Daros, "My Lord, if I might…” he said, turning to Daros, “If the lordlings wish to hold a hunt the morn of the wedding, we ought clear a good patch of the aspens as well. Curtail game taking and fend off poachers for a few days, make sure there's good sport to be had..."

"Oh!" Maester Hamden exclaimed, interrupting and rubbing his hands together as if he'd had an idea, "Some Dornish Red as well! What an excellent opportunity to explore the finer selections of the wine cellar..."

 

[Ayva Thornclair]

Ayva nodded several times throughout the conversation. Of course, her brother was ready to yet again flee for the mountains, leaving her here to deal with his wife and keeping the house together. It was a shame he couldn't simply pass the family's assets on to her, but that wouldn't do in their society of "tradition and reputation."

I'm sure he will be back in time for the festivities, she agreed, looking over at her brother and actually finding room for agreement with Emphyria on that point. He absolutely could not be missing from the wedding, no matter how much he may not want to be here.

Her attention turned back to the master at arms. Good, yes. I'll leave the planning of the hunt to the two of you, she said, indicating the captain and her brother.

And I'll be happy to take care of that Dornish Red, she said with a smirk. She was far more interested in drinking wine than skewering boars.

If there's nothing else? There's a lot of preparations to be made and not much time, she said. At least Em wasn't useless in that department. She was a second set of hands and a brain for the planning.

 

[Daros Thornclair]

Daros caught both the look from his sister and wife and a quiet but humorous scoff came out of him. It appeared his wanderings were known well enough to infer that he would have even ditched the wedding. With both of them casting their net on him, however, he relented and offered a half-smile, "Of course, I wouldn't dare miss such an important event." He saw no enjoyment being in a nest of snakes but it was his responsibility demanded.

With Ayva and Emphyria handling the actual festivities, Daros turned his attention to Ser Royce, "Agreed. Find the hunters among our men and send a cohort to the aspens, along the outskirts. We don't want them to disturb the wildlife." The bow was a way of life for their people and that meant quite a few of their archers used to be hunters and such.

Daros then rested his gaze on the Master of Ships, "Ser Skagos, our duty still remains to the Bay of Crabs. Half our fleet will remain there, the other half will reside outside the port and ensure the safety of the visiting nobles." Their sea-guard was renowned in the Vale and it would send an impressive message to the visiting lords. Especially the sight of their warships.

That left the main road, at least for the guests, "Ser Royce, the remaining archers and forces we have left be deployed on the road. Our banners high, soldiers visible and lit up like Kings-landing. We want our guests to feel safe through their travels. I can point out to you known paths to be wary of as well."

Onto the final matter for him, "Ser Arlan and Ser Robert, our garrison and city-watch will cover the main exits and entryways of the castle. Patrols will be doubled as well for our curious and wandering guests. If anyone tries to enter without approval, they are to not let in under any circumstance. Am I understood?" If Daros wasn't present, he was not going to let any commoner or half twit assassin fuck up this wedding, especially with their father's eyes on them.

 

[The Storyteller]

Rickard gave a customarily flamboyant bow of his head and flourish of the arms to acknowledge his commandments.

“Of course mi’Lord,” nodded Ser Royce, hesitating, “Weddings like this are like to attract those of a, uh… noble adjacent sort. Hedge knights and the like. By custom they’d be permitted to dine in the lower hall with the household knights and sworn swords even without an invitation, and their squires in the yard with the men-at-arms. If security is a concern, what would you have me do with them mi’Lord?”

@Orbit

 

[Varn Stone]

Varn was sitting atop a few barrels at the edge of Dragonbane Castle’s courtyard directly adjacent to where it met the town. He had a flask in his hand he drank from, and he surveyed the crowds. He had a break from his jobs, but his run in with Daros fucking Thornclair himself made him feel confident enough to swagger around the castle every now and then. He was good at blending in just enough and he looked like a simple lowborn chilling nearby. He was just far enough from the castle to avoid riling up any guards, but close enough to keep an ear out for any noble gossip. He didn’t even need to warg to catch up on the latest!

The mercenary’s gaze lingered on a few highborn ladies that were walking by. He simply took a swig from his flask, silently pondering how these ladies could ever breathe in those corsets. Varn set his flask down and hummed offkey to himself, gently tapping his hands on the barrel he sat on like a drum. His feet tapped to the rhythm as he simply enjoyed his leisure time as the town life bustled all around him.

 

[Chella]

Dark Wings; Dark Words.

So the saying of the Chained-Man, the Maester, said amongst the Andals. As someone of the Clans, she had never put much stock into the belief that the 'wise' men with their metalwork around their necks were trusted advisors. It seemed that the Andals loved their Maesters but Chella had watched the man hurry into a meeting with the heir and the highborn ladies of the House and found him wanting. Cursing the Maester and his Ravens under her breath, she left the main building.

The guards watched her every move.

They knew that she had sworn herself to serve the House of Thornclair but they were Andals and she was of the First Men. They were descendants of the thieves who had stolen her ancestor's lands - and she had been one of the Clans who did their best to make them bleed for it. So she paid them no mind as she entered the courtyard. Skulking across the courtyard, she spotted someone just sitting around on the barrels.

As she approached she grunted and gestured with her chin for him to move - if he did or not she would reach around him for one of her snares from behind the barrel he had been sat on.

"Off my barrel."

It wasn't her barrel but she had been planning on using the leather lashings within to work on some new snares. Few more rabbit pelts and she'd have a new hat for when it started to get colder.

 

[Varn Stone]

Varn was less than pleased at having his singing interrupted by a grouchy looking woman. He simply narrowed his eyes as she nagged at him to get off the barrel. He made a show of looking down and around himself, “Does it say your name on it?” Varn quipped, not spotting anything but the Thornclair insignia. She didn’t need to know that he was illiterate and wouldn’t be able to tell regardless. The man remained planted right where he was, clearly in no mood to take any attitude from some ratty wench that acted like she owned the place.

“May lead with a ‘hullo’ next time if you want your way,” He said gruffly before rolling his eyes and taking another swig. Sometimes he missed life in Dothrak where he could simply pound someone’s face in for looking at him funny. Westoros was civilized to a fault and he had to bite back his tongue far more than he liked. For now, Varn simply hoped the woman would grab whatever she needed and leave him the hell alone.

@Nefieslab

 

[Chella]

Chella flashed a grin when he snapped back a response.

Excellent... she'd been getting bored and antsy just waiting around for the blue-bloods to get out of their 'solar' or whatever they called the room they used for meetings. A bored Clan member could do a lot of things to try and pass the time but most often Chella herself went for a confrontation. Didn't matter to her what kind half the time - she just wanted to butt heads with someone and this guy?

His head looked thick enough to take it.

"Hullo."

She would do exactly as he had suggested before pressing her foot against the barrel and leaning forward. With her leg pressed up against the barrel between his legs, it was only not tipping over because of Varn's weight atop it.

"Asked nicely this time. No need to ask again... unless your ears don't work?"

Heavy-handed to lean on her reputation for cutting off ears? Probably. Was she going to do anything like that? Probably not - the guards would probably throw a fit and she didn't fancy living outside the castle walls without her tent being fully repaired first.

@Sreeya

 

[Emphyria Thornclair]

“I’m quite sure he will,” Emphyria said with a small smile, her piercing blue eyes lingering on her husband in what could only be interpreted as a clear warning if that proved not to be the case. Luckily, the combined ire of both his wife and sister seemed enough to get Daros to capitulate and abandon his plan of escape long before it ever came to fruition.

Emphyria glanced briefly towards Ayva, giving her sister-in-law a small nod. While the announcement of the wedding was certainly the most shocking events all evening, the fact she was actually finding room to agree with Ayva was a close second.

What, was it going to snow in Dorne next?

She pushed the thought aside, instead focusing back onto the task ahead of her. “Leave the seating arrangements to me.” The noblewoman said simply, tapping her nails against the table as she spoke. Unsurpisingly, Daros and Ser Royce began to go into more details about the hunt, and Emphyria was content to let them do their thing.

A faint smile tugged at her lips when the Dornish Red was mentioned. She glanced towards Ayva. “Yes, I am sure your vast knowledge of Lord Thornclair’s wine cellar will be helpful in this regard.” She flashed her sister-in-law a grin before looking back to the Maester.

“If that is all, I believe we ought to begin seeing to the preparations.” With that, Emphyria rose from her seat, giving Daros a passing glance before stepping back from the table. “If you will all excuse me,” She turned on a heel, finally opting to make her way from the assembly.

The noblewoman readjusted the shawl on her shoulders, the thick fur doing wonders to stave off the cold as she made her way out of the solar. She stepped out into the courtyard of Dragonsbane, allowing her icy blue eyes to wander about the smallfolk busying about. Her gaze briefly settled upon the two individuals huddled around the barrel, immediately recognizing the Clanswomen that had been given amnesty some months ago.

Why Lord Thornclair had seen fit to grant the woman safety behind Dragonsbane’s walls, as opposed to mounting her head atop its gates, Emphyria still couldn’t entirely grasp.

@Sreeya @Nefieslab @Orbit @Phoenix @Loco

 

[Ayva Thornclair]

Ayva watched as Em rose and left, ignoring her quip about the winesellar. Yes, and you'd better be careful or something might turn up in your wine, she thought to herself. The conversations around the table began to die down and others trickled out. In the midst of that, Ayva snagged her brother's attention.

Daros, can I talk to you? she asked, motioning with her head toward the outer hall where they could speak in privacy.

Things seem even more tense between you and Em, she said, tone hushed and wary if anyone else approached. And that was saying something after the skyrocketing tensions from the revelation of his "other" child.

Do you think she'll create problems for the family at the wedding? she asked. It was not a foreign idea that Ayva presented: a fear that despite bearing the Thornclair name, she might seek to undermine them in the hopes of a better position. No, Ayva didn't trust her dear sister in law.

@Orbit

 

[Daros Thornclair]

Ser Royce raised a good point and Daros closed his eyes momentarily before he exhaled softly. The gears in his head turned for a brief moment before he opened his eyes and directed them to Royce. "And we would hate to break customs. Allow the lower hall to remain open." They then flicked smoothly to Ser Robert and Arlen, "Coordinate patrols to account for this. Once alcohol gets involved, who knows what happens." Especially with knights and squires, honor could be challenged and that could result in a bloodbath. He also had his own idea of how to keep an eye on them.

Once Emphryia rose from her seat and offered a glance to him, she would find him not returning one back as he simply held his head in his hand. As much as he knew it was important to keep up appearances, especially in front of others, he found that he no longer carried the energy for it.

After she left the room, Daros would glance at the remaining council before standing up himself, "That will be all. If anything happens, let me know immediately." Before he could leave the room too, however, his sister called him to speak about something. An arched eyebrow would be offered to her but he followed after regardless, his own curiosity driving him.

Once they were by themselves in the hallway, Daros would take the opposite wall from his sister and cross his arms over his chest. As he listened, a smirk touched his lips at her observation of his relationship but he didn't comment back. When the subject of her creating problems was broached though, he cocked his head slightly. "No, she is still a Thornclair. I trust we all have more to gain from this going smoothly over anything else." While they may not see eye to eye, he didn't see his wife placing their whole family at risk, especially at a wedding.

Regardless of what he thought, he knew that everyone had their own ambitions and intentions. Pushing off the wall, Daros uncrossed his arms before he stepped forward to Ayva. With one hand, he cupped her cheek, his thumb gliding against her skin as he said, "Wherever the threat comes from, be careful please." There was care within his words and he offer his sister a nod before dropping his hand and departing from the hallway to prepare.

 

[Ayva Thornclair]

Daros had faith in his wife. That was what set the two of them apart. He far too often assumed the best or the honest in these political games. She did not, but she also knew she would never change her brother, infuriating as he was.

He moved toward her, wishing she would be careful. He knew her too well, but he also knew that she knew how to play these games.

Of course I will, she said. She was more worried about him than her. She may have been inept on the battlefield, but assassins at this wedding weren't likely to be swinging swords and knives... probably.

You too. Keep your eyes open, she said, heading in the opposite direction. There was still much to do and now very little time.

 

[Skarde Aetos]

Skarde Aetos wore his usual light armor. Nothing fancy, a cloak draped over his shoulders with a hood to match. His dirty blonde hair tucked behind his ears and down his neck as his eyes scanned around the yard. He was nothing special, no brave knight with armor so shiny you could shave your beard with a clean cut in it. His armor bore dirt, stained blood and dents. Not making the effort to clean it as his face seemed curious but held back. Scanning the yard of those around. Some knights, castle workers and others he could care less for. It was until he seen what appeared to be a brute of a woman leaning her foot against a barrel of a gentleman and had a coy smile to her face. It seemed this was going to get interesting and kept his watch from afar amongst scanning around the others and taking it all in.

Skarde was only here due to the fact he rubbed elbows and people owed him favors in the guard from his prior service. It was enough to get his fox ass inside big events and take peoples money in games or get the scoop of those he was interested in. As a waiter passed with a silver tray worth more than Skardes family home, he would swoop a drink of wine in a chalice off it and smile politely at the female. "Thank you." His cheeky smile and look would fixate on her. His hand bringing the chalice up to take a sip before swallowing the red liquid and muttering to himself. "Damn..they spare no expense for wine around here still.". For now Skarde would watch the entertainment on the barrel and see if something exciting happens.

@Sreeya @Nefieslab @Orbit @Altaria @Phoenix @Loco

 

[The Storyteller]

The Welcoming Feast
The first challenge for House Thornclair to confront would be welcoming their guests to their home.
As the wine begins to flow, it's time to determine who is friend and who is foe. ​

Ravens had flown, and preparations had been made. Goats, suckling pigs, and various fowl had been roasting on spits since morning, and Maester Hamden himself had been overseeing the transport of wine and ale from the castle cellars and the local tavern to the kitchens to be ready for serving. Roasted carrots, boiled potatoes, and wheels of cheese were being carted out by the bucket, and the smell of fresh baked black bread wafted throughout the halls. Attendants waited in the wings to address the wedding guests needs as soon as they arrived- a trio of heralds had even been arranged to guide Guests to their seats according to the wishes of the Ladies of the House.

Long tables and benches had been arrayed in the castles main hall- strictly for the Lords and Ladies, their families, and their sworn knights- with one table on a raised platform at the end of the hall for the Bride and Groom, their families, and the hosts. More tables had been arranged in the “lower hall”- Dragonsbane was large enough to boast two halls, the “lower” of which was still the size of most keeps main hall, though the Thornclairs used it mainly as a reception hall, or for smaller social events. The lower hall would host the hedge knights, merchants, and other lowborn invited guests that merited better treatment. Finally, rough cut tables had been assembled along the curtain wall in the castle yard for the squires, men at arms, and other retainers who didn’t merit a seat indoors. Sentinels stood ready at every door and portcullis- the Thornclairs had spared no expense doubling the garrison on duty for the night- and a steward attended the gate, checking the names of arriving guests against a prepared list, and directing them to their rightful place. The castle and town were bustling, and the anticipation was palpable in the air.

Though not yet dusk, the sun had begun to sink in the sky, the orange and yellow hues gleaming off the white stone walls of Castle Thorn as the guests began to arrive. Few had chosen to take the long ship voyage across the Bay of Crabs from Maidenpool to Wickendon or Valendin. Most had instead taken the Kingsroad to the Vale, and then the southern mountain road along the coast to Thornclair lands. The towns tavern and whorehouse were already filled to bursting with hedge knights, sellswords, minstrels, and a menagerie of other hangers-on who’d arrived by boat, horse, or foot ahead of the wedding party- all hoping to ply their trades and garner favor with one or another House present for the festivities.

A pomegranate, pierced by a red arrow on a grey field, announced the arrival of their first highborn guests- House Dannet. This house, at least, was well known to the Thornclairs, as their lands shared a border to the North of Dragonsbane. They would not be a particularly welcome sight. Border and water rights disputes had become frequent between Lord Thornclair and Lord Dannet, though open hostilities had thus far been avoided. Lord Arryn had likely pushed for the Dannets to bear witness to the ceremony and- depending on how paranoid you were feeling- report back to the Hand as to the Thornclairs performance.

Lord Alfric Dannet- once a proud and sturdy warrior, now appearing withered and old- led his entourage into the castle yard atop a speckled grey courser, flanked by a pair of sworn swords all swaddled in grey cloth trimmed in red. Behind him rode a grizzled old knight in black enameled plate and half a dozen men-at-arms. It was at the knights side where rode young Adham Dannet, squire and heir to his fathers house, his silvery blonde hair flowing in the breeze atop his chestnut mare. Behind the vanguard came Iris Dannet, Lord Alfrics Eldest daughter, and several of the garrison turned their heads at their posts to watch her ride by. Last came a small assortment of household retainers, aids, and servants.

Not far behind the Dannets, Maester Hamden pointed out the colors of House Mallory- six white stars on a purple field. Lord Lothar Mallory appeared to have arrived by ship- his hold in the Crownlands being not far from Maidenpool- and he was making his way up the path to Dragonsbane in the company of what appeared to be a small retinue of household knights and a garishly decorated assortment of other companions, as well as the Thornclairs own Master of Ships, Rickard of Skagos, who was gesturing flamboyantly at his Lordships side as they walked.

@Phoenix @Orbit @Sreeya @Altaris @Nefieslab @Exhilian

 

[Daros Thornclair]

Daros had painstaking gone over the details with Ser Royce, Skagos, and Arlen. On the matter of security, nothing had been left untouched by him. The heir would use his sheer will to ensure the night transpired smoothly, especially with the known fact of his father's gaze watching over them.

As acting lord of the house, it greatly restricted Daros' flexibility and required him to actually be present. There was an unscratchable itch burrowed within his skin, begging him to be donned in his armor with the familiar weight of his swords on his hips. For the time being, it would have to be ignored for the majority of the night until he could retreat once more to his patrols without scrutiny.

Daros' thoughts would be broken by the sound of the rumbling gate, it lifted to allow access to their... esteemed guests. The family of House Dannet would find the Thornclair heir still as a statue and waiting to greet them beside his wife and sister. He would be dressed nicely in a black sewn long sleeve tunic that was fitted to his lean form, the trim of it red as well for his house colors. His piercing gaze would first land on Lord Dannet, then his children before being returned to him, Daros' gravelly voice greeting them first smoothly, "Lord Dannet, it is a pleasure for you to arrive at our keep. I hope your family's travels weren't befitted with too much trouble though I doubt clansmen would afford you any difficulty." A deep nod would then be offered to the man and to his son.

Daros' gaze would then slip to Iris as he would give her a slight bow, "Lady Iris, the stories do not do justice." She was indeed beautiful and his gaze would linger for a brief moment before he heard the new arrival. Lord Mallory soon strode up the stairs, surrounded more by knights than by his own family.

"And Lord Mallory! Would it even be a party without your presence? We're happy you could make it." Daros had always appreciated Mallory's own appreciation for that of battle. Both of them would have preferred to be in armor than anything else. Finished with offering the first greetings to their guest, Daros would let his sister and wife take over as his eyes scanned over the assembling crowd. The amount of Knights and squires were growing and he realized it was only going to increase exponentially. Thankfully, he asked Varn to oversee the lower hall once he returned from the main road and he hoped the man already wasn't at the bottom of a bottle.

 

[Ayva Thornclair]

Ayva stood beside Daros as the guests made their way up the path. Her dress was a soft, red silk of the finest quality with a fur collar lining the cape that hung down her back. Bracelets, necklace, and earrings of gold and rubies rounded out her attire as she stood ready.

The first of the guests had begun to arrive and as expected, they were a mixed bag. The Dannets were... the Dannets. They looked about a cheery as a funeral procession, but that was probably because Lord Dannet looked like he was about to keel over at any moment.

Daros handled them admirably and exactly as one would expect. It didn't matter that the families hated each other and were on the verge of war, pleasantries were expected to be followed.

Regardless of her feelings for the family, she shared a measure of respect toward Iris. The other woman was not entirely unlike Ayva, and while it might be too far to say that the two had common ground, it wasn't impossible that they could find some mutually commiseration at least.

Daros moved off to further speak to his fellow warrior, and that left Em and Ayva to deal with the Dannets. It wasn't shocking, and Ayva decided she could at least placate the garbage for the moment.

She steered herself in the direction of Iris and gave a polite curtsy.

Welcome Lady Iris. I trust your journey through the passes wasn't too difficult? she asked. While she would have liked for the entire party to be massacred by the hill folk, she'd rather it didn't happen under Thornclair's watch. The potential fallout was too serious.