Re: [King's Landing] Ser Jorah’s Ascension to the Kingsguard

[Baelon Drakeson]

Baelon shakes his head.
"
Nothing other than what has already been discussed. Following the information you have provided and checking the security of those who might be targets will have to do for now."

[Gwyneth Drakeson]

"
We'll let you know if we find anything, Septon,"
Gwyn assures him, "
And trust you will do the same for us."

[Septon Arlyn]

Septon Arlyn nods, "
of course. My hope is to try and speak with Lord Larys Strong, as I feel his connections might be invaluable in finding out who this man is, and hopefully where he is staying. However the gods do work in mysterious ways, and these great Lord's are often very busy, so it might be difficult to speak with him."
Septon Arlyn frowned then says, "
but if I do learn anything I will let you know."
Completes Septon Arlyn

[Terren Dulver]

Kings Landing, a city he has both heard and read about so much and to think he could finally visit it for himself. The sheer magnitude of the Red keep as well as the cities’ size overwhelmed Terren for a few moments. To think I would see such a sight. As he simply stands there smiling slightly.
After a few moments Terren snaps back to reality and then sighs slightly. Still, there is work to be done and I should try to use my time in Kings Landing efficiently instead of staring at buildings.
Terren will seemingly follow the proceedings with Ser Jorah’s appointment to the Kingsguard, chat to his sister and Ser Tymon about it for a while and then excuse himself, saying something about wanting to go buy some kind of book, and wander off into the city.

[url=Looking around Kings Landing][/url]: 3d6 14

[Gwyneth Drakeson]

Septon Arlyn nods, "
of course. My hope is to try and speak with Lord Larys Strong, as I feel his connections might be invaluable in finding out who this man is, and hopefully where he is staying. However the gods do work in mysterious ways, and these great Lord's are often very busy, so it might be difficult to speak with him."
Septon Arlyn frowned then says, "
but if I do learn anything I will let you know."
Completes Septon Arlyn

Gwyneth nods at that, and seems about to disengage when something occurs to her and she looks back at the Septon.

"
Speaking of letting you know,"
she murmurs, then louder, "
Septon, did Lord Bartheld approach you in Battle Valley about an...well, lets call it an expedition? Attacking a castle, looting and pillaging and so on?"

[Septon Arlyn]

Septon Arlyn thinks for a moment then says, "
well, not me in particular. But he did speak to Ser Walton, who asked me to help review the map and such with him."
Septon Arlyn thinks back on that night. "
I have to say that I was not [url=feeling][/url] the best that night. But from what I remember of looking at that map everything he presented to us was accurate. I then told Ser Dulver that and took my leave. I'm no help when it comes to military matters, and I had prior [url=engagements][/url] in the morning that required me to at least attempt to get some rest."
States Septon Arlyn. "
Why do you ask?"

[Gwyneth Drakeson]

"
Did you mark who was buried there?"
Gwyn presses, then shakes her head. "
He came to us as well. In the spirit of sharing information that we're cultivating between us, I'll tell you what we found. Perhaps you may wish to pass this warning on to Ser Walton."


"
The man who's tomb Lord Bartheld wishes to crack open is an ancestor to the Marstens, and by marriage to the Tullisons. When we pointed this out to him, he revealed that he was well aware of that...and even in anger admitted that the reason he hadn't gone to Corrine for help was because he had been afraid she'd realize the claim she had over the 'artifact' that he is after. Furthermore, there's no documentation of any treasures there -but- the artifact. He's hoping there will be, but he has no idea what or how much. Baelon and I refused his offer, as it appeared to us that he was using the other Houses as little more than unpaid mercenaries...fodder against the bandits...to give him a chance to take what should be the heirloom of another House."


"
I'm afraid Dulver, and the others, would be risking great pains for little gain...and even if successful would only share the diplomatic consequences of Bartheld's actions, which he cannot escape now that what he hasn't told anyone about his target is public knowledge."

[Septon Arlyn]

Septon Arlyn makes a face of one who has tasted sour milk. "
I was unaware of who was buried there."
Septon Arlyn rubs his hand on his forehead. "
This could be a bloody disaster. I shall inform Ser Walton. He may wish to continue on this venture anyways, as I do not think he would likely regain on a bargin, but at least he will be forewarned."
Septon Arlyn's face makes a frown, "
does Lady Marsten know about this? I know when I spoke to her about a possible artifact near her lands she was quite insistent that it be returned to its rightful owners. I doubt that she would take kindly to someone who might take an heirloom that belonged to one of her ancestors."


Septon Arlyn pauses to think for a moment before he says, "
did Lord Davian not say why he didn't inform the Marstens?"

[Gwyneth Drakeson]

"
I wasn't pleased either. I was a Marsten before I was married, remember. Anyway, as I was saying, what Lord Bartheld told me is that he hadn't sought Corrine's help because..."
she frowns, trying to remember the words he'd used, "
...the Marstens think they own everything. Which I took to mean he believed Corrine would realize that she had far more claim to the artifact than he does. I expect he didn't approach the Tullisons for much the same reason."


"
Why he thought I'd feel any differently I'm not sure...perhaps it was an oversight on his part. A careless mistake. At any rate, do pass it on to Ser Walton. And perhaps remind him that an agreement made under false pretenses doesn't have to be binding. He trusted Lord Bartheld's account of the situation...one that it seems was at the very least a lie of omission."


"
You may wish to spread the information to the other Houses in his expedition as well...I don't have contacts with most of them, and some are...not on speaking terms with us regardless."

[Baelon Drakeson]

"
You need to be more careful, Septon. Much more careful. Your words carry weight as a representative of House Dulver - and that weight can drag you down and House Dulver with you if you are not more careful. You are making a habit of letting yourself be duped and used by those you see as upright or redeemed. Lord Davain is only one example. Your words regarding Athelstan and most recently Ser Theomore are, if anything, worse."


He scoffs.

"
Do you realize that by supporting Ser Theomore's defense, you once again have once again made yourself out to be someone for whom politics trumps peace and justice? There are few of any political persuasion who do not see Lord Gorman's act as purely political - that Ser Theomore was in fact behind that attack, but that it served Lord Gorman's politics and thus the injustice went unpunished. As such it looks a great deal like you condone such barbaric acts so long as it serves a Green agenda. Perhaps that is not what you intended, but that is the reality of the situation. How long do you think you can maintain a good reputation among the smallfolk if they start to believe that they are mere lambs to the slaughter if it suits your purposes? Is that who you wish to be seen as?"


He shakes his head disparagingly.

"
Remember that ultimately, it is not your intentions that matter, but how others see your actions. Whether you mean to do good or ill, to uphold the Seven's teachings or twist them to your own ends - it is what others believe about you that will determine how they act towards you... and by extension, to House Dulver. Do you think that Lord Harald will take it kindly if his house becomes known as one of barbarism and slaughter? You already have Ser Walton forging that path - perhaps you should take more care to be a counter-agent to that perception. Forgiveness is good, but only when truly deserved. If you continue down this path, you may bring destruction upon yourself and House from the very smallfolk that you claim to be protecting."


[OOC/EDIT: Reader has stated that actions of the various parties backing Ser Theomore's defense were done publicly - so this is not mere conjecture or OOC knowledge]

[Septon Arlyn]

Septon Arlyn's face shows a little confusion or surprise. interesting, a legitimized bastard is advocating for a Septon to be less merciful. "
My Lord Baelon, it is not my place to judge men for their past actions, for that is between them and the Father. What I am able to do is offer broken men a path back towards the light. Any good member of the Faith can see that. Those who would try and view my actions through a political lens are likely themselves subject to the very stain they accuse me of. For just as it is a Lord's place to offer judgement, so too should his justice be tempered by the mothers Mercy. For in showing mercy is actually showing strength. It is easy to judge a man, and to exact vengeance. But the true test is, after a man has harmed you and then yielded, is to offer him mercy, for the natural thing to do is harm him the way he has harmed you. The godly thing is to lift him up, dust him off and offer him bread and salt."


Septon Arlyn gives a sly grin.

"
Besides, if you develop a reputation of killing all those who yield to you, then the next man you face, knowing of your reputation and expecting only death from your hand. Well he would have no reason to yield, and very well might fight to the death like a cornered animal. And few things are as dangerous in this world as a man with nothing to lose."
Finished Septon Arlyn.

"
Yes I supported Ser Theomore, but he admitted to his involvement in Pennytree. He also accepted seven labors to help cleanse his soul. Should he decide to go back to his devious ways, the gods punishment would likely be sevenfold. For it is one thing to sin in innocence, it is quite another to break ones vows."


"
The man you might have known has been changed, perhaps if you give Ser Theomore a second chance he may just surprise you, Lord Baelon."

[Baelon Drakeson]

"
Certainly some are worth letting live. I did not seek to kill Ser Tyron Blackwood, nor Ser Gareth Royce before him.They were spared when they yielded. Yet you must admit that there are those who aren't... or would you condemn Ser Walton for slaying Benjen Frey? No, some crimes should not be forgiven, and many who beg forgiveness merely seek leniency. Are you so confident you can tell the difference?"


He shakes his head negatively.

"
It is one thing for you to forgive - that is your prerogative. It is another thing, however, for you to interfere with justice. Those who sin do so with no fear of godly punishment, no matter how may seven-fold over. No matter how harshly a man may be judged after death, it will not protect the smallfolk of the next Pennytree, now will it? That is why righteous lords exist, is it not, to do the Father's work as best they can? Have you not interfered with that divine mandate?"


He scoffs.

"
If men are not punished for their crimes, does that not just teach them that they can commit more with impunity? The blood of the victims of 'forgiven' men - the blood of innocents, women, children - will be on your hands as much as their killer's. Can you sleep well at night knowing that you may be responsible for such?"

[Gwyneth Drakeson]

Gwyn puts a placating hand on Baelon's arm. "
Come now,"
she urges, "
The fault and the blame lie with the man who does the crime. If we are to lay into every man and woman who's fallen prey to Theomore's dissembling, we would make enemies of all of Westeros. The man is a master at his craft...and as anyone who watches the lists can tell, that craft is not knighthood."


She gives the Septon a sympathetic look.

"
Ser Theomore does nothing without cause, and I have never known him to consider the will of the Seven as a cause. That said, I suppose you have little reason to trust my word any more than his at the moment. Therefore, I urge you to act with caution where he is involved, and with a healthy dose of skepticism of his claims that you cannot personally verify...and I will leave it at that. I have...faith..."
she smiled, "
...that if you are observant, you will see the truth of him. And then we may have more to discuss."


"
Until then, perhaps it's best we confine ourselves to the business at hand? Baelon, I think we ought to pay Ser Jorah a congratulatory visit."

[Baelon Drakeson]

Baelon sighs.

"
Gwyn, as usual you are right.... and I doubt you ever tire of hearing me say that. Septon, I do not mean to get so agitated at you. I find it very frustrating when people do not face the consequences of their actions."


It is unclear whether he means Ser Theomore's actions at Pennytree or the Septon's actions regarding Ser Theomore's pardon. Perhaps both.

Turning to his wife he adds:
"
Yes, the two of us should go congratulate Ser Jorah, and see if he has any ideas about that Dornishman. Septon, again, thank you for the information. If you learn anything else, please, send someone to tell us."

[Septon Arlyn]

"
Just because you domesticate a fox doesn't mean you give it the keys to the henhouse."
Septon Arlyn smiles at Gwyn before they leave. "
I will watch him carefully. Just because I have forgiven him doesn't mean you have to forget."


"
Baelon, be careful who you draw comparisons to. The blackguard Benjen Frey took an oath to serve the nights watch, then broke that oath in an attempt to get vengeance on me. The seven guided Ser Walton's sword that day, Ser Theomore has yet to break his oath, but if he does I'm sure the seven will have a way to even the books."
from the way he speaks it is a wonder if he even believes in the Faith. of course the judgement and justice that all men receive is equal to their actions in life. "
I doubt that Ser Theomore would take kindly to being compared to Ser Benjen."
Septon Arlyn's statement was made in warning, not threatening in his tone.

[Gwyneth Drakeson]

"
I expect he would view it with a rather grim appreciation of the irony,"
Gwyneth answers with a chuckle. "
As for his oaths...well, I know of only one oath in particular he's broken, but if his vows of knighthood are intact, then I'm a Dothraki horselord."


She eyes Baelon for a moment. "
Which gives me an idea. For later. For now, best of luck Septon. We'll be speaking again soon."

[Theomore Tullison]

Ah...that old familiar stink of the gutters of Flea Bottom, the flavor of a thousand nightpots being emptied each morning on the streets, Raff pulled a scarf over his nose and mouth as most having a scarf would, his hood pulled over his head to protect against shit being thrown from windows and conceal from prying eyes. Growing up on the cobblestones, one learned to steal proper shoes, or steal something else to trade for proper shoes. One scratch on your bare feet could be enough for the filth to cause a festering sore that would kill unless the foot was removed first, which would kill you just as certain from the starving. Memories. Everyone had a family, his was an unknown father and a whore for a mother. And once some man took a knife to her when he was what? six? His new family became the other orphans of the street. And then the goldcloaks decided to round up all the able bodied lads of Flea Bottom that didn't seem like they'd be missed to send to fight for Prince Daemon at the Stepstones. But that was where he met Theomore, and since there are no old thieves in Flea Bottom, Raff had figured that maybe the clever young knight might have need of a man with his particular set of skills. An arrangement quite fortuitous for the both of them.

Nothing seemed changed of what used to be his home, houses might burn, houses would crumble, and yet they were built almost as they were. Raff could halfway imagine that old Hobb's pot of brown had been simmering without as much as a stop for cleaning since his first taste. Well, he wasn't eating or sleeping here, that was for sure. He could afford better, and nobody who could afford better would stay in Flea Bottom unless they had a dire need to disappear. No, he was here because of all these important people being gathered, and they would gossip among each other about all sorts of things. Ser wanted to know what words the wind might carry from high and mighty, and so it was that Raff went to see such men that held their own little courts in Flea Bottom, trading in lives, ill-gotten gains and information. For a man having coin and knowing where to look, anything could be bought in King's Landing, and the most interesting things could be found in the shadowy bowels of the city. Raff did not leave empty handed.

[url=streetwise][/url]: 5d6k4 19

[Nathaniel Mason]

Nathan and Ser Jon Roxton the Bold arrive late for the proceedings. As the young man steps from the carriage, he smooths a few errant hairs out of place and then turns to tenderly straighten the great Knight's cloak.

"
When you said we needed to make a quick stop, you could have warned me."
the man had a stern look, but the admonishment was affectionate.

"
I admit the resistance was more than I anticipated,"
Nathan grinned, "
but I saw an opportunity and took it. I am glad I did, and you cannot say you did not have fun."


"
Even still."
the man frowns at his young paramour, although it's obvious it takes mammoth effort.

Nathan looks up at the Knight with a small pout and enormous blue puppy-dog eyes.

"
Arggg. Fine."
Ser Jon leans down and gives Nathan a kiss. "
Can we go in now before all the best wine is gone?"



[url=Ascenion (Language)][/url]: 4d6 18

[url=Ascenion (Awareness)][/url]: 3d6 10
[url=Ascenion (Awareness)][/url]: 3d6 8 Lucky reroll, even worse.
[It's a very hard TN and Jon is obviously horribly distracting me in lots of ways.]

[url=Ascenion (Streetwise)][/url]: 7d6 27
[Investigating threats against the Greens and the Royal Family]

[Tristayne Tullison]

Tristayne adored the capital. From the palace atop it all, the great throne and all the throngs of gleaming courtiers giving him a childish delight, the grand homes of the great and good still fascinating him with their splendour and their secrets, the merchants in their stalls and carters driving through the mad streets filling him with the energy of happier days. As he wandered, he fit in with the city that had once been his home, his still young heart full of nostalgia for his years as a younger braggart, wandering and causing mischief. He wandered to meet old friends in the merchant's districts, learning of their lives while saying little of his own. By these friends he hooked himself into the beating, flowing blood vessels of the city, from whence he could see it all. He wandered, talked, bought drinks and fed hungry men, enriching his heart and mind at the meager cost of his purse. Rumours flew through the air like dropped coins to be taken hold of, and he reveled in their capture, as he resided in the city before heading to see the proceedings.

[url=Gathering General Rumours][/url]: 8d6k5 27

He ascended the city, drifting up towards the proceedings of Jorah's elevation. He masked his innocent, smiling face with a look of glee, his eyes wandering to observe and discover, even under the guise of obliviousness.

[url=Awareness][/url]: 4d6 14

He saw nothing, but his suspicious eyes still traveled for a while before pausing to examine the recorded deeds of the good ser knight.

[url=Language Roll][/url]: 3d6 15
[url=Status Roll][/url]: 3d6 14

[Reader]

Dark wings, dark words.

A man reads what was set down in the great book, and words travels to the South.

In time, a man in the Riverlands has the message relayed to him. She is at Castle Grenward, we have found her at last. Cleanse our honour.

A few weeks later, at the height of the campaign against House Wyl, there is a tragic accident at Castle Grenward, as the grim fortress's curse claims another victim. Masonry plunges from the walls as labourers work on improving House Coldbrook's keep. Elia Holt, Ser Jorah's mother and steward Ferris's able assistant, lies dying, pinned cruelly by the falling debris.

[OOC:
Coldbooks who have returned to Castle Grenward post this scene only -

Healing TN 15 - to keep Ser Jorah's mother alive to hear her last words and ease her passing.

Cunning (Logic) TN ?? to investigate the scene. You may assist/coordinate with a primary investigator.]

[Daveth Coldbrook]

Diagnosing Elia Holt (TN6): 5d6k4+1 14 2 DoS.  Miracle worker gives +4B, converting to +1D+2B
Treating Elia Holt (TN15) +1D+2B: 8d6k5+1 25 3 DoS
Investigating Elia Holt's murder - Cunning: 4d6 16

By good fortune, Daveth was nearby, crossing a courtyard, juggling a hot sausage from hand to hand as he walked back to his tower, when he heard the thump of falling masonry, and a cry of voices.  "Someone's hit!  They're under there!"

The sausage falls, forgotten, as he grabs a nearby servant, distracted by the noise.  "You, grab my maester's bag.  My tower!  Now!  Go!" Shoving the man in vaguely the right direction, to no discernible effect, Daveth bolts for the injured person.  His heart falls when he sees who it is.  "Oh, no.  Nononononono." He rushes over, past a gathering crowd.  "Everyone, back off!"  He kneels down beside her, taking her limp hand.  "Lady Elia, it's Daveth.  You're going to be-" he examines the extent of her injuries.  "...fine.  Just fine." he finishes, not especially convincingly to anyone who could see the extent of her injuries.  

He looks around at the crowd.  "You," pointing at a strong-looking labourer.  "Come here, and do exactly what I say.  You two," pointing at two guards, before pointing up at the battlements above them. "Nobody has access to that area until I've examined it.  Nobody.  Go!"

He turns back to Lady Elia, and squeezes her hand reassuringly.  "We're going to get through this, okay?  It's not as bad as it looks." he lies, knowing how important attitude is.  

[Reader]

Daveth was not Lord Coldbrook's son by blood nor by inclination - he was no warrior or general.

But this was his battlefield, commanding as well as Lord Tomas Coldbrook himself had ever done against House Darry and the rest of the Faith Militant. The guards followed his order as quickly as if Lord Coldbrook himself had given the word, and the strong-backed labourer followed the relatively frail lordling's orders attentively.

The eyes of the malevonent spirit of Castle Grenward must have passed, or it felt it had done enough damage that day, as by some miracle of medicine Daveth was able to move Elia to her own bed so she could pass with dignity. A few calculations, and adjusting for an estimate of his patient's weight, and he was able to ease her passing but keep her awake - Daveth knew enough that should Elia lose consciousness, she would not wake in this world of tears.

"My son, it is a good thing my son is not here. I beg you, move his sister elsewhere. This will not be the end of this matter. Better she change her name - let there be no more of Holt if House Martell cannot bear the slight on its honour that we live."

"Tell me son that I am proud of him. He is the best of my father and I. There is a letter hidden behind a stone in this chamber - I would have it make its way to my son, seal unbroken."

"Tell him I was strong to the end."

Her head lolls to one side as her strength fades, but she somehow manages to pull herself up, shattered spine be damned.

"That will do, too stoic, too like his father as he knew him, not the dashing Symon that won my heart all those years ago in Dorne."

She pauses, lost in reverie or the lightheadedness of the milk of the poppy.

"Tell him  to make sure he has a proper white fur cloak for winter. His blood is meant for hotter climes and these King's Landing folk will have given him a grand silk cloak, better to look at than wear. I hope he will think of his mother as it wards the chill from him."

She somehow manages to smile at this and passes.

[OOC: can you roll against your flaw after the narrative resolution of this please? It's not a bloodbath but I think it qualifies.

3 DoS
- Elia regains consciousness
- Daveth is able to move Lady Elia so she passes in her own bed
- Daveth is able to caculate a dose of dose of milk of the poppy that eases her pain but allows her to maintain her wits, preventing the need to choose between her dying words and easing her pain

Cunning results (subject to change based on coordinate)
- Work wasn't being done on this part of the castle this week
- The masonry here is wet - this section is long since dry. Someone moved masonry and waited with it her to strike Lady Elia.]

[Loreia]

RP Strength, 126/2 Grenward: 5d6k4 17
Coordinate Investigation with Farris/Michal: 4d6 18
2 DoS: +3 to Farris/Michal's assist, whoever has more Cunning.

[+1 to Daveth's roll vs flaw if possible]

Shield up.

Loreia's eyes follow Kieran's form, and she steps and shifts weight almost as predictably as he does, meeting his blows with mirror precision. The squires watching lean back comfortably with a sore lack of interest. They've watched this practice fight scores for a few moons now.

Slash. Parry.

"Stay away. I have orders not to let anyone down." A ways off, distressed voices carry over to the training grounds. "Why? What's goin' on?" she hears one ask. "It's Lady Elia," says another, hitching in hesitation. "She's been struck. It's bad. Lord Daveth is seeing to her. Move along."

Worry plays across Loreia's face. "Continue without me, Kieran." Barely waiting for the reluctant nod later, she bolts toward the man standing guard, pushing past him.

Slash. Parry.

"Oh gods..." she whispers. Upon offering her help, Daveth grimly directs her to do as the one laborer helping him does. Together they lift the fallen stone off of Lady Elia, who breathes shallow despite the pain.

Shield down, both hands on grip, slash. Slash. Slash. Empassionate, yet even, the strikes clatter at mail and chain, winding Kieran and squire alike until yielding or spent.

She places a hand on Daveth's shoulder as the lady smiles, and closes her eyes to open them no more.

"Let's look at where th' stone broke off," she aids Daveth with the steward in tow at the site of the accident, with some builders present. "Think back to th' last day or three. Were there any builders workin' on this area from then till now?"

The next day, Loreia's sparring opponents leave practice with a few bruises. For the days that follow, dummies lie in piles of wool-spilling burlap and chopped wood.

Practice makes perfect, she tells herself as she drills for her visit to Caladan. Far easier to look forward to that, when she finds herself reconsidering her plans to visit the south after Aemond has visited his wrath upon House Wyl. House Wyl's plot had threatened Daveth's life. House Martell, on the other hand, had successfully attacked and killed Jorah's mother. Someone had suggested Lady Elia may have been delirious as people may be when teetering on the edge of death, waiting for the Stranger to take them. Not a chance in hell. They did this.

Jorah... Her heart sinks at the thought of having to bear the news. They can't get away with this.

[Reader]

[OOC:

- Coordinate another DoS to the cunning roll.
- There had been an influx of temporary labour to cope with the work including several Dornishmen, two of whom do not report for duty the next day.]

[Daveth Coldbrook]

Having just checked the rules, Miracle Worker should actually have given me an additional +1D.  Assuming it's not too late, adding it in.
Treating Elia Holt extra +1D: 1d6 3
Meaning my total is 28.  No difference to the result.  Ah, well.  It's good enough as-is.

Sensitive Stomach - Ascension thread: 4d6 11. So, assuming the TN is 12, it makes a difference as to if Loreia can give me +1 as a supporting presence, or if I get a +1 bonus from not seeing the act itself (given that it's been stated before that I'm fine with the aftermath, it's just the process which sickens me). But if I don't, I'm still merely queasy, rather than losing my guts.

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