[D7, MM] A Black Fish repays his saviour (Baelon & guests)

[Reader]

Ser Eoric Tully had recovered sufficiently from his injuries to practice swordplay yesterday, and therefore accounted it past time to call on his friend and rescuer.

A white bandage jutted up above the red and blue of his Tully tunic, testifying to the pain he still carried, but Lord Tully's heir seemed stoically unclouded by the milk of the poppy.

"
Ser Eoric Tully, heir to Riverrun!"
announced his retinue as he approached Lord Drakeson's tent.

[Baelon Drakeson]

Baelon steps out of his tent to greet his guest.

"
Ser Eoric! Always a pleasure. How is your wife, and your son? Please, come inside."


The Drakeson pavilion is significantly larger than the tent that Baelon had at the Riverrun tourney, and it is appointed both more decoratively and more practically - showing not just a woman's touch, but also the touch of an organized and effective business leader and administrator - Gwyn being responsible for both sets of changes, of course. Even the racks of arms and armor bear different tools of battle than the last time Ser Eoric visited Baelon's tent - in sum the changes reflect the transformation Baelon has undergone from a bachelor household knight to the lord of a young but thriving and growing house.

"
Please, have a seat. Would you care for any food, or drink?"

[Reader]

"
My lady wife is well, and I am pleased to hear that you too are married. It will not surprise you to hear my lord father would not permit me leave to 'fritter away my dances lancing at some Stark sworn minor lordling's nuptials'. I think he fears the company I keep."


"
Your wife is an echanting woman - Riverrun still hums with delight at memory of the darling of the court. The Marsten ladies are quite something, no? I detect her hand at work here too: a stewardess as well as a beauty. Guard her well Lord Drakeson. Dermot is all a father could want in a son. I will not say it too often in his presence lest he become overbearing, but I am proud of him. He'll need to take over from me one day, unless my Lord father plans to outlive us all."


Simple words, but delivered sincerely. Ser Baelon had lacked similar fatherly love at Dragonstone: admiring the mighty "
Wrecker"
Jon Cobb or the tutelage of Ser Peyton Darke could only go so far.

"
My thanks for your hospitality - it is little and less surprise to see a man of your talents rise in station, but the swiftness is testament to your quality.

Remember that despite all he seems that Baelon is still bastard born - a man of quality, but ambition too perhaps?

"
Your victory in the melee served as a warning I hear: your sword has won out from Caladan Hall to Battle Valley. I look forward to appearing as a footnote in your tale one day."


Ser Eoric coughs, an unpleasant, chesty hacking cough from the road.

"
I will take that cup of wine and gladly. My throat needs the liquid and wine will serve better than water to numb the burns, if you will forgive me half a cup of wine and water at this early hour."


"
It is my burns that bring me hear actually. I wish to convey my thanks personally, and deliver a material note of such personally. What I say and give I trust to few hands and mouths beyond my wife and son."

[Baelon Drakeson]

"
Yes, I am blessed with a wife as talented as she is beautiful."


Baelon nods to a page, sending them off to fetch Ser Eoric's wine-and-water, and coincidentally leaving them alone in the tent.

"
I am honored by your trust."

[Reader]

A smile between comrades as Lord Drakeson clears the room, picking up on his friend's hint.

"
You have your father's cunning."


Ser Eoric unbuckles a dagger in a plain but finely made blue leather sheath. He places places the sheathed blade between the two men, hilt facing Eoric.

"
A gift, one that I will explain swiftly."


He unsheathes the top of the blade and gestures for Baelon to inspect it. The distinctive ripples of folded Valyrian steel are in evidence along it!

"
For the first part, I owe you my life and let this be my thanks. This blade is dear to me, gifted to me by my father at my knighthood. Those were happier days for my family's fortunes and internal relations."


He spins the hilt to face Baelon.

"
The first part acts as a cover for the second part, and all the better for the first part being true. Let is be a signal between us: the Tully signet ring I could gift you serves not in this purpose. There are several, not all on friendly fingers within my family and it is too easily forged."


"
These are dangerous times with countless intrigues and even battles are carried out in the shadows. I will ever recognise this faithful old dagger, so if ever you have a message that must be believed by me or my son, send this blade alongside it and we will act with all possible haste. I beg you to trust this information to only one or two others."


"
Should our realm's path be happier than I predict, then let this blade simply form part of your young house's legacy to remember the friendship between the Drake and humbler beasts from older houses."


[OOC: Baelon Drakeson receives a Valyrian steel dagger. It follows all the usual rules for extraordinary weapons.]

[Baelon Drakeson]

Baelon draws the blade, admiring the exquisite look - and deadly effectiveness - of the Valyrian steel.

"
Your gift - both your gifts - are incredibly generous. I would we did not live in times where such secrecy was necessary - but alas, it is. If ever you have need of a friend, please do not hesitate to call on me. I may be sworn to the North, but I hope that friendship of our houses will outlast the precious steel of this blade."


He sheathes the blade, and meets Ser Eoric's eyes.

"
While we have this privacy, I must warn you against the treachery of one of your bannermen - Ser Theomore Tullison. Once the squire and trusted companion of Prince Daemon, he has changed his allegiances. Many of the Princesses' agents in the Riverlands have been slain, no doubt due to Ser Theomore's betrayal. In truth, I feel he is motivated more out of greed than any political principles, however. Indeed, last night Lord Haig agreed to testify that Ser Theomore did approach him, seeking to profit by hiding a base attack by Bracken troops against Dornish merchants in exchange for a share of their plunder. This villainy led to various members of the Princess's faction, no doubt trusting in Ser Theomore's history with the Prince - to take up arms against witnesses to attack in the village of Pennytree."


Baelon frowns.

"
I have notified the Prince, and soon the interrogation of a green informant will corroborate my report of the betrayal. Ser Theomore will pay - dearly - for his crimes. Until then, however, be wary of him."

[Reader]

"
Set against the gift of life and the freedom to guide my son, my dagger seems a small thing. I have treasured it for many years, it was my proudest possession. I never thought the day would come when I gave it away, and did so gladly."


He listens intently at the warning of Ser Theomore's turncloak ways, unaware that the Tullison knight was being blackmailed by Lady Tully herself!

"
An ambitious man, seemingly willing to do anything to advance himself or protect his standing. Let us see how your father handles this, but be on our guard for our own parts. Ambitious men are dangerous, doubly so competent ambitious men without scruples. Your father is not a forgiving man, particularly to those who were once to dear to him."


"
In the same spirit, let me warn you of Ser Walton Dulver: a more dangerous threat with a sword, but without Ser Theomore's cunning to my mind. He swung at me with a greatsword in a sparring match - a thuggish brute at best, and something darker at worst. His family is as Green as Reach grass, and Athelstan's murder of Roddric Longshore sends my mind to dark places. You did well to put that mad dog down."


He coughs again, that unpleasant hacking sound again.

"
Ah, the Seven are merciful. My wine and deliverance approaches, but best not to make this a habit."


Baelon's servant strides back in, unaware of what he is interrupting.

[OOC: Eoric's disposition towards Ser Theomore Tullison deteriorates to Dislike.]

[Baelon Drakeson]

"
While I would not be ashamed of my actions if I had killed Athelstan for his actions, he took the coward's way out rather than face his crimes. In truth, I was surprised your father was so lenient on him after he murdered his brother."


He shakes his head.

"
But enough of the past. I will be wary of Ser Walton;
I have had some less than pleasant encounters with others in House Dulver already - indeed, the stubbornness of their Septon interfered when my liege lord's son and heir, Daveth, tried to coordinate our houses to find and stop the wildfire from being used. Only the gods know whether or not we would have found it in time with their cooperation... but needless to say neither hose was successful on our own."


He tilts his head, thinking.

"
Speaking of my lord Daveth, he is something of a healing prodigy. If you would like I can see if he is available to examine that cough along with our Maester. If nothing else they may be able to devise a tonic to ease the discomfort."

[Reader]

"
My father can be accused of many thanks, but never of failing to create an opportunity to spite the Princess's party or rattle a man for gold dragons. Truth be told, I had it from my mother he was indifferent to the outcome of your duel, it provided a publicly deniable way to hurt Prince Daemon. Athelstan was a thorny problem to punish - this allowed him to be seen to do justice while leaving Athelstan mostly intact for his father to deal with. Lord Ferris Longshore was strong once but illness has robbed him of youthful might, as my cough threatens to do for me. I believe he too would have been relieved to see Athelstan fall against Lord Lymond Mallister, but the man was some warrior, I'll give him that. As you say, enough of the past."


"
Wise words on that tonic, wounds can fester, so I suppose a cough might too? It does not feel like quite the right word. I never studied at Oldtown in my youth, my education was always on more lordly matters, and I fear I'm too old and too Black to be admitted now. I will seek out a younger, better educated opinion. I have been defeated once by an upstart Green today, a shame to suffer a further defeat to green phlegm."


Lordly speech departs in a friend's company as conversation turns to a mixture of pleasanter topics and longer term plans.

[/scene unless there's more to come beyond bonding, but leaving this open to come back to if something occurs to either of us.

Ser Eoric is happy to provide advice/thoughts on the investigation and beyond.]

[Baelon Drakeson]

Baelon gestures to the servant to fetch the Maester and to ask if Daveth is available.

"
Fester is as good a word as any, I suppose. My own education was... spotty, at best. Once I was squired I was taught primarily to be a household knight - little more than a guard, if you can believe it."

He smiles.
"
I'm sure there are many who wish I had quietly accepted that fate."


[OOC: I'm good, though I've made an opportunity here if Daveth wants to jump in for networking/charming/whatever]

[Daveth Coldbrook]

Daveth arrives outside the tent, having dropped everything to come, at all reasonable speed. House Coldbrook may be sworn to House Stark rather than House Tully, but still, gaining the Tully heir's friendship would be a significant boon.

Still, he adheres to protocol, ensuring he's announced, and on entering, letting Lord Baelon do the introductions. He doesn't want to convey to Ser Eoric that he doesn't give due respect to his banner lord.

[Reader]

Ser Eoric listens politely to Lord Drakeson's introduction, a friend's recommendation helping to fill the chasm in status between the first in line to the mighty House Tully and the newly made House Coldbrook's heir.

"
Master Daveth, any man who commands Lord Drakeson's loyalty commands my attention. He fears for my health, although it is but a cough I picked up on the march. The Stranger's embrace is still some way off, Seven willing."


[OOC: leaving the mechanics for this until after Story 2, post dicussion with Daveth]

[Daveth Coldbrook]

Daveth nods. "
Mayhap, Ser Eoric. Certainly, we present all wish such. But from my experience, the human body is surprisingly unpredictable. A man could easily dismiss mild symptoms that are indicative of a much more serious malady, itself detected far too late;
alternatively, a man could feel the Stranger's very touch on his shoulder, yet then the fever breaks, and he's hale again within a few days."
he shrugs. "
The only way to have any degree of faith is through a thorough diagnosis. Which I would be willing to do for you, once the current trouble is laid to rest, to the best of my ability, asking for nothing but your friendship in return.

"
While no doubt Lord Baelon has mentioned that I do have some justification for my confidence, obviously, I can make no guarantee of success, or that your cough is indeed worth either of our time to worry about. But it would be my honour to try, and I'd sooner try and find the matter trivial than not try and find the inverse."

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