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(IC) Black Dragon Rising

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  • Ser heretic
    started a topic (IC) Black Dragon Rising

    (IC) Black Dragon Rising

    211 AC

    The new year has brought changes aplenty to the Riverlands. The drought that punished King Aerys' coronation has finally lifted. Streambeds and slowly refilling and the river currents have picked up a bit. At Reedtown, the poorest new residents who cast their lean-tos low on the riverbank are now paying the price--their meager possessions washed away or set adrift. The Lord Paramount of the Riverlands is Grover Tully, a boy of eight. His mother Johanna rules as his regent, but the real power has been distributed to the greater houses of the area: houses Blackwood, Bracken, Darry, Mallister, Mooten, and Lothston, to name a few. Meanwhile, the grip of the Iron Throne is at its lowest ebb. Brigands run wild on the roads and the spring sickness and following drought have wrought havoc on houses great and small. The Bloodraven's spies are said to be everywhere, whispering back everything they see to the Hand of the King. And yet, Lord Bloodraven cannot be found outside King's Landing, his attention fixated on Tyrosh and Bittersteel. Dagon Greyjoy reaves up and down the western coast, but the royal fleet remains staunchly guarding the narrow sea. It is a time of change, of old hierarchies coming undone.


    Kyle
    Templestone

    The visit has been a pleasant surprise. Usually when Lord Garlon Shawney travels to “confess his sins” to you, it means that he wants to get drunk and tell war stories from the Rebellion with someone who won’t repeat them. But this time he’s kept his head clear and bears interesting news besides. Lord Shawney is a good five years older than you, but the loss of his castle, sons, and arm in the rebellion has taken its toll on him. His hair is receding and peppered with white and his belly is straining against his greasy doublet. The two of you are sitting up at the top of one of Templestone’s seven towers, looking out over the wetlands, which are slowly recovering from the drought.

    Lord Shawney draws back from the parapet, retreating to the shade beneath the tower’s great bell. “As I was saying, Lord Butterwell’s finally decided to do something with that dragon egg of his. Damn shame how his father got it, but there’s nothing for that, I suppose.” (The prior Lord Butterwell traded his daughter’s maidenhead to King Aegon IV Targaryen in return for the egg) Shawney rolls his breeches up a bit and plops his bare feet back into one of the two buckets of cool water you carried up with you. “Ahhhh, that’s the stuff…Anyway, the champion of Butterwell’s tourney will take the egg. Now if I had my castle, it could be me that Frey girl is marrying and Butterwell would have to throw a tourney for no reason.” He swishes his feet about, slopping some water on the cuffs of his breeches. “I was told to pass along from Black Tom that you’re invited. There’ll be Peakes and Vyrwels, Freys, Butterwells, Cockshaws, even Sunderlands from the Sisters, Costaynes, Naylands, Boggs, and Paeges!” He’s more excited than you’ve seen him in years, so much so that you nearly miss that he named Ser Tommard Heddle, Lord Butterwell’s good-son and captain of the guard, as extending the invitation rather than Butterwell himself. “I declare it the finest tourney in years!”

    You’ve had little reason to treat with Lord Ambrose Butterwell. He was King Daeron’s Hand, but was so ineffectual during the rebellion (perhaps because one son fought for the Black Dragon) that he was dismissed and replaced with Lord Hayford. He’s said to be a shrewd, witty man with no shortage of coin. His seat, Whitewalls, is somewhat removed from the Riverlands proper—it’s closer to the crownlands and King’s Landing than it is to Riverrun. As such, House Butterwell has ever been a more forceful presence at the royal court than anywhere else. It’s a touch surprising that Lord Shawney would name this tourney as the finest, especially with Ashford Meadow just two years past. Perhaps he considers that one a tragedy on account of the loss of Prince Baelor? Or perhaps he has another reason.

    “Now House Leyburn is known for its tourney knights. Do you think your nephew will field all his lances?”



    Timon
    Reedtown

    The deck of the Fist lists ever so slightly as you step aboard. Half-beached and anchored tightly in place, the floating gambling den is looking worse for wear. A great warship no more, its oarlocks are plugged with pitch and sawdust, and its once-proud sails have been lowered and stretched to form a makeshift pavilion over the deck. Deep gouges scar the starboard side, the mark of a brush with Reedtown’s stony jetty. Even the deck still bears charred pockmarks from the great battle three years ago. King Daeron died in the spring, but his Fist still clings improbably to life and the docks of Reedtown, a phantom of treason and folly past. Behind you, your guardsmen Wyl and Plummer haul themselves up from the scaffold-ladder connecting the ship to the dock, their scabbards banging loudly against the hull.

    The proprietor of the wreck is One-Hand Ryk, a short grubby man who was once a riverboat captain of suspect repute. He is known to occasionally flout the king’s law, but the man always pays his taxes and sings sweetly when you need information. More importantly, he hates Quickfinger with a passion—it was Baernard Rivers who shortened his arm by a hand and scuttled his riverboat. As such, his indiscretions (smuggling, chiefly) do not loom as large in your mind as they otherwise might.

    Ryk appears before you, ducking under a wide flap of sail. His expression is grim as he wipes his curly mess of brown hair aside. “G’morrow Ser Timon,” he offers. Perhaps he knows what’s coming next. Yesterday, a pair of whores were found floating in the Ley, their hands bound. Both Nolla and Holly were serving girls on the Fist and Ryk’s temper is legendary. Murder is not uncommon in these times, unfortunately. But this is no ordinary matter.

    Both women had come calling for you a few days ago while you were gone at Templestone, begging an audience. Such is mighty uncommon. Those seeking your audience are generally the more affluent merchants and other fixtures of the community, all of whom have much to gain from strong relations with the house's steward. The rest of the town (miscreants, the better lot of them!) has no reason to seek the lawman, unless they have knowledge to sell.


    Ser Ethan
    Templestone

    “—and he said my leathers would go to rot after three years.” It takes a moment to refocus on what the tanner is saying. He’s been going on and on, laying out his claim that his rival tanner slandered him before gods and men. “But he lies! And he can’t know what he says, because I’ve only lived in Reedtown two years. How can he say the rot will strike in the third year, then?” Holding court can be tedious. Smallfolk in their wroth are a stubborn lot, intent on forcing every disagreement to their liegelord’s attention, no matter how tiny the consequence. The current dispute is certainly a headache. Usually when a man’s honor is impugned, the issue is resolved by a duel or trial by combat. But that path is for highborn accusers. It would be cruel to force lowborn men to fight each other to the death, without proper arms, armor, or training.

    Wate the Tanner stands before you, claiming that his foeman Darryl Greenarm (another tanner) has been spreading the lie that his wares are malformed, cursed, and rotten. The Greenarm sits well back in the pews, his stained arms crossed before him as he looks down. The seven-sided chamber was once a hall of worship, with a simple dais in the center and seven rising tiers of pews spreading in every direction. The distorted rays of summer’s sun cast through the stained glass on the western wall. Despite that, it's a bit dim. The other windows were mortared over years ago and it's too hot to light the braziers.

    Now that he has blessedly finished pleading his case, Wate rises from where he had prostrated himself and goes to sit in a near pew, facing a tapestry of the Father and murmuring under his breath. The Greenarm rolls his eyes. Meanwhile, the rest of the hall comes alive with activity. Some guardsmen change the watch and a handful of smallfolk filter out the doors, their issues resolved. Sitting at your side, Ser Elmar of the Red Fork leans in to offer his counsel. “Wate overstates himself by claiming his leathers to be the finest in the Riverlands. However, it would be unwise to punish him for this exaggeration. Remember, he seeks only to rebut the Greenarm’s claim of rot.” The balding knight drains his cup and nods to a serving girl for another. “Even a virtuous man can be overborne with passion while stating his case.”

    Elsewhere in the hall, the youth Brenly takes up a lilting song, hopping from foot to foot, bells tinkling, before the handful of remaining petitioners. Some of them smile politely at the boy’s antics, but you can see the strain on their faces. You’ve heard fifteen suits today and resolved twelve of them on the spot. The other three are knottier and require some thinking. The remaining smallfolk in the hall wait on the resolution of those cases. Maryn admits cutting Jonna’s purse, but claims that it was in satisfaction of a debt of twenty chickens that Jonna owes him. She acknowledges the debt, but protests that she owes chickens, not coin. Steely Garth seduced Pard the Boatwright’s wife, after which Pard took an axe to the pylon of Steely Garth’s hutch. The result was the collapse of both Garth and Pard’s homes into the Ley. Garth claims from Pard the value of the smith’s house, but Pard protests that his own house was worth twice as much, so it is he who has suffered more. And now, Wate the Tanner accuses the Greenarm of slander.

    Master Odryn appears at your side with a new cup of fine Arbor white, chilled with some ice cut from a mountain lake in the Vale. Chilled wine is an extravagance, but you have come to rely on it to get through the sweltering heat.


    Vlad
    The Waterwood (Three leagues south of Reedtown—House Lychester’s Lands)

    Despite the shade, it is uncomfortable hot. Ahead of you, the hounds are scuttling through the underbrush, sniffing furiously on the trail of a red deer. But this day you are no hunter. That honor belongs to young Ser Leo Darry, Lord Darry’s second son. The lordling is resplendent in his flowing shirt of Dornish silk and matching cape of lustrous brown, a fine yew bow lies across his lap. He leads the group in pursuit of the hounds and game. The rest of the company is not so comfortable. Two of Ser Leo’s servants are struggling to keep up, their saddles weighed down with bags of fodder, sweetcorns and apples for his horse, and a deer’s carcass. You and the three other knights riding escort are sweating hard through your armor, cooking slowly in the in the humidity.

    You’re riding escort through the Waterwood, a small forest on the lands of the old man, Lord Ryman Lychester. By rights, House Leyburn can take five red deer per annum from the wood, a profit that Ser Gareth Leyburn then traded to House Darry. However, Ryman Lychester is unpredictable in his old age and the realm has grown dangerous since the spring besides. Thus, Ser Leo rides with a strong escort.

    Beside you, Ser Bennard Roote is wiping his brow with a green kerchief and swigging the last of the wine from his skin. He’s a thick man with close-cropped black hair and a ruddy face. He and Ser Willis Darry are Ser Leo’s primary escort, sworn swords of his father Lord Robert. The last knight of your company is also named Darry, though Ser Leslyn is a distant cousin of the main branch and is sworn to House Leyburn instead. You and he represent House Leyburn and can attest that Ser Leo is properly hunting by leave of Ser Ethan, should House Lychester’s men interpose. Truth be told, banditry seems more pressing concern. Since King Daeron’s demise and the promotion of the Bloodraven to Hand of the King, the realm has grown more and more dangerous. The great drought at the beginning of summer sent hundreds of smallfolk on the march in search of water and wilted the hedges. The result was a rash of outlawry across the Seven Kingdoms, which persists even after the rains ended the drought a few months ago.

    Ser Bennard resumes the tale he's been telling between chasing Ser Leo. "So not a league from Harrenhal, our ears catch a deadly scream and then a swarm of bats thick enough to darken the sun came screeching by. They say Mad Donelle Lothston is half bat herself. So my squire and I are trying to hobble our horses, but their eyes are rolling and they won't hold still. Not a Dornish moment later, the biggest wolf I've ever seen comes charging from the fern and takes my rounsey in the side! I had to—shit, where did Leo go?" The sound of the dogs is a bit more distant now, but Ser Leo Darry is nowhere to be seen.
    Last edited by Ser heretic; 05-17-2017, 07:10 PM. Reason: Inconsistency of Tully boy's name w/NPC thread

  • rax
    replied
    Re: (IC) Black Dragon Rising

    Ser Timon

    Timon offers Ser Gerold a tired smile. "I would dearly like to know more of what's going on in House Lychester, but after the past few days I've had my fill of taunts and obfuscation. Let Balon Lychester be on his way, and the less we see of each other, the better."

    "As for Mychel Hayford, I'm of a mind to invite him to Reedtown, but not until I know that the traitor's mint has been safely hidden away. And now, perhaps, it would also be wise to await the outcome of Lord Roote's diplomacy. So yes, please detain him for the week. I will send word when we are ready for him in Reedtown."

    "Lord Roote - with your permission, I will retire to the Riverfly with my party and await delivery of the copies of your letters. Then we will depart post haste for Reedtown."

    OOC: Let's wrap up events in Lord Harroway's Town. Since Lord Roote isn't up for a more proactive stance with regards to the conspirators, there's not much more Timon feels he can accomplish here. He's keen to get home and make sure that the mint gets hidden away somewhere safe until he can figure out what to do with it. He also wants to talk to Ethan about cementing a more formal alliance with House Roote and, given that some form of military crisis may be looming in the near future, he'll want to convince Ethan to step up training and recruitment for the house military as soon as possible.

    So Timon's game plan for the near future is:
    1. Go home.
    2. Hide the mint and beef up security.
    3. Keep his ear on the ground for anything regarding the conspiracy.
    4. Await the outcome of Lord Roote's diplomacy.

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  • Ser heretic
    replied
    Re: (IC) Black Dragon Rising

    Ser Timon

    Lord Roote stands and claps a hand on your shoulder. "Ser Timon, I am in your debt for all you have done. I consider our houses to stand closer than they did before this episode. And of course, I will gladly accept any assistance that Templestone offers." He returns to drafting his letter and you sense that he is finished with you.

    Ser Gerold strides over to join you. "Ser Timon, they will be releasing Balon Lychester soon. We will accommodate any arrangements you desire." He is offering to allow you to slip out without Lychester's knowledge, or to contrive a chance encounter with the dwarf. "We can also loose Mychel Hayford if you wish. If not, we will keep him here for a week's time."

    OOC: Now is a good time to maybe sketch out OOC or IC what else the group wants to do in Lord Harroway's Town and where you want to go next. I've been assuming that this would be Templestone or Reedtown, but I suppose it could be somewhere else instead--Harrenhal, King's Landing, Riverrun, etc. Once we've figured that out, I can get a sense as to just how much time to cut-scene through. We might let a couple weeks or months slip by IC if Timon's schedule allows, giving us some House Actions, or we could keep things day-by-day if you think Timon's still on a hot trail.

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  • rax
    replied
    Re: (IC) Black Dragon Rising

    Ser Timon

    "I pray that you are correct regarding both their lordships, my lord, and I will press my case no further," Timon replies in as mollifying a tone as he can muster. "But I believe our two houses are in this together now, and we would do well to pool our resources until the current crisis has passed."

    "If you wish it, I could speak to Ser Ethan about making a more formal commitment to aiding House Roote. Lord Shawney might think twice about invading your lands if he thereby risks bringing House Leyburn into the fray. At the very least, he would have to divert some forces to prevent our freeriders from burning his domain while he marches against Lord Harroway's Town."

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  • Ser heretic
    replied
    Re: (IC) Black Dragon Rising

    Quinton and Ser Timon

    “If the flaw in my plan is that the Bloodraven might be outsmarted by the likes of Garlon Shawney, I will rest easy tonight. Hide or conceal as he might, he will not escape what is coming for him.” Lord Roote unstoppers a bottle of ink, while his maester smooths a parchment for him. He begins bobbing a quilltip in the ink. It is a well-practiced action.

    “The King’s Hand is known for his willful, even . . . controlling, nature. I do not assume that he would prefer me to plunge ahead rather than stand down. Indeed, my course of action will prevent treasonous activity from occurring in my town.” Turning his eyes from you to the parchment, he begins to write.

    “There is also great danger in provoking Shawney. He may be equal parts stupidity and wroth, but he is nothing if not a natural commander. And he has nothing to lose. I’m not certain I could keep him from crossing the river. Many of my men are still off fighting Ironborn.” He shoots a reproachful look to Timon and takes a pause from writing. “You would do the same if Reedtown were exposed to such peril. Now, it seems we are in agreement that letters should fly. If you can accept my course of action, I will allow you to read the contents of my letters—even provide you a copy, should you desire it—and accommodate any further sniffing about you need to do in Lord Harroway’s Town.”


    Ser Timon

    You can tell that his lordship has made his mind up. He keeps turning the conversation away from conspiracy, proof, and subterfuge—your areas of distinction—and toward things like diplomacy and warfare, where he knows you lack the authority to make binding promises on behalf of your house. It is true that your nephew often follows your counsel, and has occasionally bestowed on you powers more fulsome than most stewards. But at the same time, committing to something like Leyburn reinforcements for Harroway Town is beyond what you can do without first consulting Ser Ethan.


    Quinton

    When Lord Roote starts writing on the parchment, you know it’s serious. Marks in ink have a power that words do not. There is a special force in ink and pages. Almost a magic. Writing on a page can make or unmake a lord, if it comes from the King, and a written accusation can cause strangers to clap a man in irons. Dark wings, dark words.

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  • Jewdebega
    replied
    Re: (IC) Black Dragon Rising

    Quinton

    Having remembered his place, Quinton kept his mouth shut for this conversation, especially as it seemed Lord Roote had lightly scolded Ser Timon for his suggestions. Instead, the young man flicked his eyes between the two men as they postured themselves in more flowery language than he could ever attempt to use himself. Quinton did not seem anxious, frightened, or upset. Instead, you young man appeared intrigued by the banter and dialogue, like an audience member at an enthralling performance, standing in the front row.

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  • rax
    replied
    Re: (IC) Black Dragon Rising

    Ser Timon

    Well this is a fine time to lose your nerve, my lord... Timon thinks, trying to keep his exasperation from showing.

    "My lord, you are of course quite correct that this matter is a far graver concern than the apprehension of mere murderers and highwaymen. It would certainly be a comfort to know that, if you are to search any of Lord Shawney's vessels, then you would be doing so with the approval of the King's Hand. And sending a raven to Lord Bloodraven and Lord Tully would certainly be the swiftest way of finding out if the powers that be would be supportive of such an action."

    "But I still worry that it would be foolish to show our hand early when it comes to Lord Shawney. If you do decide to order a search of his vessels, then I pray you will at least send word to Lord Shawney using a very old, very slow horse. I, for one, would be more concerned about Lord Bloodraven's reaction if you first inform him of the plot and then act in such a way that Lord Shawney is given an opportunity to cover his tracks, than if you were seen to act decisively against the treason being committed in your town."

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  • Ser heretic
    replied
    Re: (IC) Black Dragon Rising

    Ser Timon and Quinton

    Quincy shakes out a kerchief and uses it to mop his brow and the top of his head. “Timon, you’re a talented bailiff. But this affair is now more politics than investigation. Each of these proposed steps—inducing Shawney’s treason, unusual searches—will send up beacons as to my intentions. Beacons that could be misread. Even if the pretext is something neutral, like a disease, as your man suggests, the truth will out eventually and the other lords will nurse their private theories for why I mislead them. With Harroway Town as the venue, allowing Shawney to complete his part in the conspiracy could itself be seen as treasonous, especially if our ploy is somehow botched. If we lay the trap and it fails, the crown and others may become suspicious of us. If it succeeds, Lord Shawney might come down on Harroway Town with flame and steel. Of course, if Lord Bloodraven instructs us to take these steps, we will take them.” He limps over to the table where his maester has left a number of scrolls, ink, and quills. “I intend to send a raven to King’s Landing informing Lord Bloodraven of all that we know, as well as an identical one to Tully. Better to apprise them in my own words, rather than rely on a messenger such as Mychel Hayford. I do not fully trust Hayford for a number of reasons: his subterfuge in entering my town without making himself known to me, his attack on my smallfolk, and his choice to take service with such an . . . unconventional fighting force. However, if you believe our position will be advanced by informing him of what we have uncovered, I have no objection to telling him what we know—after I send the letters.”

    Ser Timon

    You’re a touch surprised to hear of his suspicion of the Raven’s Teeth, although you are aware that some lords object to the idea of an armed force loyal to a single man, rather than to a noble house. Lord Bloodraven was granted lands and incomes in the Crownlands by King Aegon IV, but he has neither taken a wife nor named an heir. Some see the Raven’s Teeth as a threat to the order of the realm.
    Last edited by Ser heretic; 06-03-2018, 01:29 PM. Reason: Edited in dialogue reflecting Quinton's suggestion

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  • Jewdebega
    replied
    Re: (IC) Black Dragon Rising

    Quinton

    The young man at Ser Timon's side nods his head in agreement with the knight's suggestion, his eyes looking towards Lord Roote as if to heed his advice. "Or a medical emergency," Quinton then offers, almost absent-mindedly as his tongue gets ahead of his brain. "You are always hearing about ports being shut down for outbreaks and the such. There could be a recent spread of rot or disease that you might want to prevent?" It's at that point Quinton's mouth and brain fall into sync and he remembers his place in this conversation. An apologetic glance is cast towards Ser Timon and his head lowers slightly.

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  • rax
    replied
    Re: (IC) Black Dragon Rising

    Timon

    "I agree - even if we could coerce Joren into becoming our catspaw, there's too many ways our trap could be sprung prematurely to make it worth the effort. But seizing the cargo of every Shawney barge while giving Lord Shawney fair warning? I doubt the wisdom of such a course of action, my lord. For the moment, we have the upper hand, but if Shawney is alerted, he will surely act to distance himself, and any other conspirators will disappear even further into the shadows. They may even find the means to turn the tables on us."

    "Would it not be possible to manufacture some pretext for searching Shawney's barges that would not require an explanation ahead of time? For instance, you were attacked by brigands in the streets of your own town - who could reasonably protest if you responded by swiftly cracking down on smugglers and other criminal elements? You could have your customs officer search all of Shawney's barges as they come in, but include enough other vessels so as to make it less obvious that his ships are being targeted."

    "As for alerting Lord Rivers - I had previously considered recruiting Ser Mychel for that purpose, though at the time I had hopes of having more evidence on hand. But if you are willing to risk it, we might bring him into the fold now. And if not him, then it must at least be someone whom we know has the Hand's ear and who we can trust not to turn on us."

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  • Ser heretic
    replied
    Re: (IC) Black Dragon Rising

    Ser Timon and Quinton

    Lord Roote nods pensively as Timon explains the plot. “Seven above this is complicated. Lychester soldiers turned brigand, Leo Darry, Zachery Lychester, Shawney . . .” Wincing, the Lord scoots off the table to a standing position. He favors his wounded leg as he paces about. “As you recommend, I will not put Balon Lychester to question on such thin grounds. Indeed, I will release him and apologize for the misunderstanding that led my men to accost him. As for Shawney, you may remain here to intercept the barge if you wish, or if not, my customs officer will take it upon himself to do it. I won’t stage a mummer’s farce to induce the codeword—easier to just search and seize the cargo of every Shawney barge. Of course, such an unusual measure will require certain courtesies. I shall send a rider to Shaw Tower informing him that such a standing search order has been issued.”

    “Our efforts should not stop there. We should make every effort to ensure that it is us, and not some other, who alerts Lord Rivers. And Johanna Tully for that matter. I will recall my heir Robar and drill the garrison, so that Lord Shawney is not tempted into rash action.”


    Ser Timon

    It does not escape you that Roote’s plan would give forewarning to Shawney, should the rider arrive before the barge departs. Lord Quincy is proposing to allow Shawney to abandon the plot without losing face or admitting treason. Timid. Wise?

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  • Jewdebega
    replied
    Re: (IC) Black Dragon Rising

    Quinton

    The young man nods his head in acknowledgement and gratitude of Ser Gerold's words, his eyes briefly darting towards Ser Joren as his 'shots' are first mentioned. When Ser Hayford is mentioned, Quinton's eyes come back to bear on Ser Gerold and he responds softly, "It was the least I should do." With that, the boy goes quiet again, allowing Ser Timon to share what information he has with Ser Gerold and to assess how to properly treat Lord Roote's newest "guest".

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  • rax
    replied
    Re: (IC) Black Dragon Rising

    Timon

    "Then I would err on the side of caution, my lord. Joren denies that Balon played any active part in this plot, though he was present when "Ferret" over there made a fool of himself in a supposed game of wits that Joren put together. Young Quinton confirms this but cannot say with confidence that they were cooperating."

    "It seems clear to me that something is rotten in the House of Lychester, though. Joren claims that he and Quickfinger have been blackmailing Zachery Lychester, Lord Goodbrook's nuncle, and just yesterday some hedge knights that were until recently in Lord Lychester's employ took it upon themselves to ambush Leo Darry when he was hunting in the Waterwood. Ser Vladimir dealt with that promptly, but from the tale the survivors told, it sounds as if Lord Ryman may be experiencing some sort of financial difficulties - to the point that he's not paying his soldiers. It still seems unlikely to me that Lord Ryman would involve himself in a plot against the crown, but others in his house might have reason to do so."

    Timon pauses, scratching his chin. "As for the matter of the mint itself, Joren says that the plan was to mint three thousand coins here in town, then abandon it. He says he was instructed by Quickfinger that the gold needed for the job would arrive on a barge from "the fat-bellied whiskerfish", which he understands to mean that the barge would be one of House Shawney's. He expects the gold to arrive in a few days - the barge's helmsman is to seek him out and identify himself with the code word 'Razor'."

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  • Ser heretic
    replied
    Re: (IC) Black Dragon Rising

    Quinton and Ser Timon

    Ser Gerold nods. “I will take over the questioning from here. There more to learn as to the Fox’s accomplices. Those that escaped will hang, I swear by it.” He offers a hand for Timon to clasp, and gives Quinton a double pat on the shoulder. “Well-shot, boy. And my thanks for sharing your knowledge of the knight Hayford. Without that, we could have . . . misstepped.”

    With the interrogation broken off, Lord Roote looks over at the two of you from his perch lying on the table. “Well, what will it be? Do I have cause to detain Balon Lychester? Prudence tells me that I should not clap irons on him without adequate cause—he may be a dwarf, but he is heir to Lychester, and Lord Ryman is not known for patience and understanding.”

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  • rax
    replied
    Re: (IC) Black Dragon Rising

    Ser Timon

    Timon arches an eyebrow at Quinton's reply, saying nothing, but snorts derisively at Joren's comment. "I'll be sure to take your advice the next time Balon Lychester assaults me and mine in the streets, but so far he's shown no inclination to play the part of pincushion. I expect he and I will have a chat some time soon however."

    "As for this conversation, I've had my fill of it. Thank you, Ser Gerold - I am done here. Do as you will with this fool, but if Lord Roote would have my advice, it would be to hang his conniving carcass post haste."

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