Gold and Steel Session 3

#GoldSteel
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	=-=	Mode #GoldSteel +o antoine by Ryker
	=-=	Mode #GoldSteel -o Ryker by Ryker
	antoine	A wagon slowly rolls under the portcullis, the myrish silk in the back softly bounces, shimmering in rays of light reaching down from the skies. Another load of trade goods from your recent good fortune. A guard atop a turret calls out, "Riders, to the South!"
	Mercer	is preoccupied with a newfound love for extravagant clothing. His newest order from the distant port of Pentos, a cloth-of-gold cape, completes what is possibly the most absurd thing he has ever worn.
	Mercer	The Lord glances up at the sounds of alert.
	antoine	"I see a banner, looks likes a spiked circle on a field of green." a guard calls out, unsure of himself.
	antoine	"And more men behind them, on foot. Its the Warden's men, John Arryn's valemen."
	Ryker	is in the armoury being fitted for his new set of finely crafted plate. The artificer's work has given him a beautiful suit of red gilded armour that moves naturally.
	Mercer	raises a brow. "Waynwood," he says aloud, looking about his court with a grin. "Perhaps they mean to buy clothes?"
	antoine	Markas hurries up some stone stairs so he can strain his eyes from the castle wars while asking, "Perhaps they have knights in their party?"
	Mercer	exits into the castle grounds. "I imagine they do," he calls to his son, moving to join him. "It seems to me an honor guard."
	antoine	It looks to be about two hundred men marching towards your gates, the lead rider bearing Waynwood's banner alongside House Arryn's held slightly higher.
	Mercer	"Perhaps more than an honor guard."
	Mercer	"The gate is closed down there, yes? Just to be safe?"
	antoine	The regimented iron portcullis is drawn closed as the trade wagon clears the tunnel like entrance through the thick walls.
	Mercer	withdraws from the wall, summoning his Castellan and Captain to his side. "What could Lord Waynwood be riding two-hundred men to my gates for?"
	antoine	Corbin takes his place by your side, "Strange mi'lord, John Arryn's raven spoke of the need to send the maester on to Kings Landing and that a replacement would soon arrive. "Perhaps this is the escort." He looks dubious at that before continuing, "Maybe he has thought to foster his son in Kestra hands?" He again, looks somewhat doubtful of that possibility. "Hmm, I will have the rest of the...
	antoine	...Talons by your side in a moment Lord Mercer." and he starts shouting orders below to the men in the courtyard.
	Mercer	chokes back a laugh. "You know the words the smallfolk give us. We reach only what we grasp." He looks to Corbin amidst his commanding. "But Captain, know you the Arryn response, the Arryn response since Aegon brought the Mountains to their knees?"
	antoine	"What is that mi'lord?"
	Mercer	"... but a Kestra reaches far into the mountains. The Lord-Hand of the King Jon Arryn has little love for me, if any. He would never entrust me with that pale boy of his."
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	antoine	The men soon approach the gates, the small folk give them a wide berth. They come to a stop, the banners flapping in the wind. The lead rider calls out, "I am here to speak to Lord Kestra."
	Mercer	steps up to the wall atop of the gatehouse. “Welcome to my lands, friends. I am Lord Kestra. What brings you to Whitemane?“
	antoine	"I am Ser Morton Waynwood, charged by the Warden of the East to assist in bringing law and order to these lands. I request room to rest these men after a long march and an audience with you at your earliest convenience."
	Mercer	shrugs, and nods. “I welcome you, Ser Waynwood. Your Lady has always been kind to these lands, and the word of Lord Arryn is worthier than my own by all accounts.” He looks to the guards. “Open the gates!”
	antoine	The clanging of iron raised in fits and starts soon ends, the two hundred men march in, a bravosi water dancer and a hedge knight to greet them as the two warriors stand on the steps leading to the great hall.
	Mercer	steps down to greet his guests, his absurdly expensive cape swaying about behind him.
	antoine	The stable boys take the reins of the horses as the riders dismount. Ser Morton looks at the finely armoured Ryker and asks, "I do not know you ser, do you steward a portion of Kestra's lands?"
	Ryker	"I am a sworn sword to Lord Kestra, Ser"
	antoine	"I see, you must only take part at distant tournaments. I have not had the pleasure of seeing you in the local lists."
	antoine	part in*
	Mercer	comes forward. “I greet you, Ser Waynwood. How fares your mother? You are her son, yes?”
	Ryker	"I've fought in no tournaments, my sword prefers to clash with real enemies"
	antoine	He gives a curt bow while in his fullplate armour, "She fares well, thank you Lord. I am her son and heir."
	Mercer	claps his fingers together. “Ah, you’ll have to forgive me. In my encroaching age I often forget these things. And of course, matters of tending to my land also drive me to exclude other things from my mind. I’ll call for a servant to see you to some fare lodgings - we’ve been able to increase our comforts come-late, as you can imagine. Your men shall also be seen to.”
	Mercer	does so, striding into the hall, calling for an attendant.
	antoine	"Thank you Lord." he turns to Ryker, "I did know House Kestra had real enemies."
	antoine	did not*
	antoine	"Nor that she treated foreigners. Where do you hail from goodman?" he asks Jaros.
	Ryker	"Aye, we've been plagued by the mountain savages too long" "They have been hidden for some time now that I cut the head from the one they gave title to" " Ser Logar Shitfist or something"
	Jaros	"My homeland is the free city of Braavos, as such."
	antoine	"Well good tidings to you goodman, I must meet with your lord now." He moves off to follow Mercer.
	Jaros	bows his head slightly in deference
	Mercer	motions to Falk, entering the great hall ahead of the knight. He leans close and whispers, “have his men given bed in the spare quarters, and keep the rest of the soldiery alert for any trickery.”
	antoine	Your castellan nods and heads off silently
	Mercer	opens his arms in a motion of greeting when Ser Waynwood enters, then closes his palms together. “So! What can I do for you and yours, Ser Waynwood?”
	antoine	"I come bringing word from our liege lord, his lordship wishes to compensate you for the removal of your maester by sending myself and those men to help clear your forests of mountain men. Kestra has long been known to be strong supporters of John Arryn, fighting off the faithless savages and protecting good valemen from their predations. He thought our assistance would be a fitting reward."
	Jaros	frowns
	Mercer	narrows his eyes. “Assistance,” Kestra echoes. “Assistance, after years of fighting for myself, of fighting for lords and lordlings who could not find the strength to do it themselves? Maester Nochester was a brilliant asset, but I see not how his loss demands a presence of men.”
	Mercer	looks to the Bravo. “Something the matter, Jaros?”
	Jaros	"No your grace."
	Mercer	nods slowly. “Lord, Jaros. We only refer to the good king by that honorific.”
	Jaros	"My apologies, your lordship. I am still acquainting myself with the customs of this land. They sometimes... escape me."
	antoine	The knight stiffens, "His lordship wishes to lighten your load, you have taken it upon yourself to bring law and order to this region, why not give your men some rest, give them leave for a while?"
	Mercer	“Oh, come, Ser Waynwood. You surely know that is not the way of Lord Arryn. Kestras have always defended themselves, and it has made us all the better for it. Especially in recent days, my lands are far better-off than many of those of my neighbors - the influx of hired hands, of trade, has discouraged the mountain clans greatly.”
	antoine	"You would refuse the Warden's help?" he asks flatly.
	Mercer	laughs. “I would be grateful for the help of the Warden of the East, Protector of the Vale, and Hand of the King. I, however, have instead received the apparent help of a lordling and two-hundred soldiers.”
	Ryker	laughs
	antoine	He rests his hand on the pommel of his sword, "These soldiers are Lord Arryn's own men and I have unhorsed many a knight. This is no 'apparent' help."
	Jaros	"
	Jaros	"And as such, I must ask why a knight such as yourself seems more interested in the stonework of the castle than the offer of hospitality within."
	Mercer	puts on a look as though he has been taken aback.
	Mercer	“You lust for my holdings, Ser?”
	Ryker	"Be careful milord, he may boast about some tournament results!"
	Jaros	"Just so."
	antoine	He stammers, "I...I...I am merely appreciating this castle's construction. I came here to assist you Lord, not be insulted." he face hardens but the flush of crimson in it shows his embarrassment.
	Mercer	“I’m inclined to agree. You speak much of your tourney-results, but I am worried more that you seem interested in using these two-hundred men to oust me from my own lands! Such an affront to the knightly vows!”
	antoine	"I do not have to stand here and be insulted, I can march these men home and inform Lord Arryn of your impudence."
	Mercer	looks to his guards. “I’m sure Lord Arryn will be hardly wounded that none of his men were forced to die under my command. You, however - you will stand and answer for your presence here. So long as you stand under my roof, ser, you respect my power. And if I sense you endanger my power, I am fully within my rights to place you under arrest, regardless of your petty title.”
	antoine	"Arresting an envoy of the hand of the King. You may be bold but you are foolish Lord Mercer."
	Mercer	“Who is more the fool, Ser Waynwood?” The Lord Kestra grins, tilting his head to the side and casting a sickening grin at the knight. He glances to his guards posted around the room, motioning for them to show their steel.
	Ryker	crosses his right hand to his pommel
	Mercer	“The Lord in his castle, doubting the sincerity of some weak little man? Or the corrupt lordling in a knight’s anointments, trying to break the King’s peace? You’ll tell me why you’re here, or I’ll have my men strip you of your armor, and your weapons, and toss you in the dungeons.”
	antoine	He seems to realize you are not joking and the thought of being thrown in the dungeon of a fortified and manned keep atop a mountain does not inspire his confidence. "Please my Lord, there is no need for that. His lordship did send me with order to clear your forests of criminals, your rise has upset some nobles though. I was to inform him of what I believed your expansionist intentions were...
	antoine	...and if you would threaten the King's peace."
	Mercer	raises his brow in acknowledgement, and looks to his guards. ”Stand down, then, men.” He looks to the knight. “I am very much appreciative of your honesty, Ser Waynwood. As I said, I’ll have you seen to your quarters. On the morrow, you’ll be joining me when we test your men on a proper run of the fields.”
	antoine	He relaxes a degree, "Very well, I would see these quarters then."
	Mercer	looks to one of his guards. “Show him to the Stone-Lord’s Hall, in the east-tower.”
	antoine	The man gratefully moves away, leaving you three together.
	Mercer	shakes his head and sighs. “I suppose that’s how it is,” he quietly says to his sworn men when the man is gone. “The Mountains have never been a place for intrigue or for conspiracy. Honor is all there is. It’s as if the gods stole our ambition from us, and distributed it amongst the wretched low-countrymen of the Westerlands.”
	Ryker	"I was personally hoping for him to make a move, I'm still not used to the drudgery of "court" "
	antoine	Corbin soon returns, "We have their men swaddled up like a newborn with a blade hovering above its head. They won't take us by surprise my Lord."
	Jaros	"Such men believe they can dance with their tongues, but this man dances with stone feet."
	Mercer	laughs, then looks to Falk. “Very good. Tomorrow, I’ll have the 2nd Infantry ride out with us, along with your guard. I’ll be taking a hundred of this fellow’s men with me out for a range, see if we can’t track down any more of the mountain men. I’ll be leaving you in charge, as always, and I trust the 1st and the 4th are prepared to deal with any trickery from the other
	Mercer	hundred... not that it’s likely at this point.”
	Mercer	he turns, and moves to his throne. “I fear I’m growing paranoid. That is, perhaps, one of the few genuine harms against my state that age has inflicted.”
	antoine	"We'll outnumber them three to one, they won't stand a chance. There is something else my lord, the foreman is here to see you."
	Mercer	nods. “Certainly. Bring him in.”
	antoine	The man comes in, hat in hand, "Thank you for seeing me my Lord. I bring tidings and questions from the smallfolk if it would please you?"
	Mercer	smiles down at Tagart. “Of course it would please me, my goodman. What word do you bring to me?”
	antoine	"Well the smallfolk give their thanks for your magnificent victory over the outlaws. We do wonder why so many men are arriving at the castle, is war upon us?"
	Mercer	“No, no, Foreman Tagart. Lord Arryn sends men to be brought to field and cleanse the mountain clans from this region. Soon, we’ll have peace in this land, and prosperity thereafter.”
	=-=	Jaros is now known as GrandNagus
	=-=	GrandNagus is now known as Jaros
	antoine	"Ah good, now there is something else. The men grow restless, the great maester is praised for bringing so much wealth to the small folk but it slips through the women's hands more easily than a responsible man."
	Mercer	“But Foreman Tagart, is that all you come for?”
	Ryker	is in awe as the Bravossi pulls off Falk's cloak and reveals two eunuch midgets
	Mercer	Shortly after this hallucination...
	antoine	"Of course, we think only of the children. We would not want them to starve because of the women folks mismanagement."
	Jaros	"Oh? So it is not the pride of the men of the village that are aching, but the bellies of the children?"
	Mercer	looks to the Bravo with some mild surprise.
	Jaros	looks pointedly at the foreman
	antoine	He narrows his eyes on Jaros, "It seems the Bravosi has been listening to the washer women again. Please my lord we do not break out backs in the mines for some women with a needle and thread dictate our lives. Surely you can see how the men will put down their pick axes and mine production grind to a halt if this continues."
	Jaros	"It occurs to me that the things I hear are of the men frustrated with women refusing to bed them because they have no need of their coin. I suppose you would have us believe that the coin given freely wouldn't make its way into brothel houses?"
	antoine	A guard comes forth with a silver plater with a set of goblets filled with wine from the kitchens, "Is mi'lord and his company in need of refreshment?
	Mercer	“Yes, yes, please.”
	Ryker	is looking quite bored and eagerly grabs and gulps down a wine. "Gods damnit, if your men stopped complaining and started minning maybe we wouldn't be using needle thread money to armour the soldiers"
	Jaros	"Your grace, your the mead you were given looks as though it were a bad batch."
	antoine	The after Ryker snatches up the cup the guard continues on to his lord.
	Jaros	*strike "your"
	Mercer	stops immediately after he takes up his chalice.
	Mercer	looks down at the servant.
	Mercer	“Jon,” the Lord calls.
	Mercer	looks into his wine.
	antoine	Tagart grumbles, "If that is how his lordship feels then I will depart."
	antoine	"yes my Lord?" replies Jon
	Mercer	“Stay a moment, Tagart. I have not yet actually spoken.” The lord looks to his servant. “Jon, why don’t you sit and drink with us? You’ve served long enough.”
	antoine	"Oh, thank you my lord. I would feel out of place if my fellow guardsmen here did not join us. Could I bring the all the hall some refreshments perhaps?"
	Mercer	looks about. “For the Talons? Please, boy. I think they need to stay sober.”
	Mercer	steps down from his throne, drink in hand. “No, boy, stay, talk with us. How have you been? I know you don’t have a glass of your own. Care to drink from mine?”
	antoine	"Oh my Lord Mercer, I couldn't drink from my own lords cup, well. Maybe a sip? The chef said the vintage was rare."
	antoine	He takes the cup and presses it to his mouth and takes a sip before returning it.
	Mercer	smiles and nods.
	antoine	The guardsman smiles in return
	Jaros	"Is it good, young man?"
	Jaros	hand rests on the hilt of his blade
	antoine	He swishes the wine around his mouth, tasting it before moving to to one side of his mouth and remarking, "Very good, the chef did not lie. My father was a vinter so I know good wine when I taste it my Lord. Please join me, it is most refreshing, with a citrous blend."
	Jaros	"Odd, then you do not take a deep draft of it, as such a young man as yourself rarely gets a chance to taste something of such finery."
	Jaros	"Or, such that you have not swallowed at all."
	Mercer	shrugs. “Ah, alas, I realize now that I still have matters to deal with. And I need to keep straight-headed. Wine goes too my head too quickly.”
	antoine	"As I said, my father was a vinter, one cannot just quaff such a good drink. It would insult the maker."
	Mercer	begins to ascend up to his throne once more.
	Jaros	"I insist."
	antoine	"Very well my lord, I will leave you to your thoughts."
	Jaros	draws his blade a few inches
	antoine	The man eyes the blade and spits the wine at the bravosi's eyes.
	Mercer	“Jon!”
	=-=	antoine has changed the topic to “Jaros, ryker, Guardsman, Talons”
	Ryker	throws down the goblet, admiring his luck, and draws his sword
	Mercer	“Guards, draw blades! I won’t have anyone disrespecting my guests!”
	Jaros	draws his blade quicker than the eye can follow, and slashes a wound on the man's leg
	antoine	The man cries out but rushes towards the throne, bearing a concealed knife
	antoine	He stabs at Lord Mercer, cutting through some silk to slash at his arm.
	Mercer	holds up an arm in defense against the assassin’s attack.
	antoine	The Talons draw their blades running forth to surround the man, bringing their longswords down on him but not finishing him off yet.
	Mercer	kicks to shove off the man, throwing his fists madly.
	antoine	The man sneers as the weak man batters his fists against him.
	Jaros	moves up behind the assassin, and his blade punctures the man's thigh. As he collapses, Jaros flourishes, striking a wound on the man's blade hand. The man falls to the floor
	antoine	The knife skitters away from his grasp as he collapses on the floor, the Talion intersperse themselves between the Lord and everyone else.
	antoine	Talons*
	antoine	They shout alarms "Assassin!, Assassin!" While others ask, "Are you injured my lord?"
	antoine	The castle comes to life like a slumbering beast, the sound of men running echoing through the halls.
	Mercer	slowly stands up, shivering slightly, and then begins to laugh lightly. “I’m fine, I’m fine. Just a few nicks in the seams of my clothes. I’ll send them up to the Maester before he leaves.”
	Mercer	looks to Jon. “I don’t understand it, why would he suddenly turn like this? Put him in the dungeons. Disable him at your discretion. Tell me when he comes to.”
	Jaros	"Your lordship, a second, if you will."
	antoine	Your Captain of the Talons comes rushing in, "My Lord, are you alright?"
	Mercer	“Of course. I think I have you to thank for this.” The lord looks to Captain Falk. “I’m fine, Corbin. But it appears someone wants my life.”
	Mercer	“Check on my children, quickly.”
	Jaros	steps around to face the man, squatting down to look in the man's eyes.
	Jaros	"Young, foolish, brave man. Who sent you to do such a deed?"
	antoine	"At once." He rushes off with longsword in hand.
	antoine	The man whimpers out, "Its too late now. Hes dead."
	Jaros	"Who is dead?"
	Mercer	frowns, and looks to one of his guards. “Check on Ser Waynwood.”
	antoine	Jon screws up his face, "I failed and hes dead, Kill me now."
	antoine	The guards move off to check on your guest
	Jaros	stands
	Jaros	"Away with him."
	antoine	The guards drag him away to the dungeons
	Jaros	shakes the blood off his sword, and sheathes the weapon
	Ryker	sees that the Talons have secured the hall and the lord exits
	Ryker	muttering "fucking court, I can't even enjoy a wine "
	Jaros	chuckles
	Mercer	“Ah, Ryker, you may also wish to come with me to visit the Maester. Just to be safe.”
	Ryker	halts his exit "As you wish milord"
	Mercer	“And I, I need to get a taster, it seems. Not even my own kitchen is safe.”
	Mercer	steps down, but looks to the Bravo. “You know, Jaros, your reputation preceded you even before I called upon you from Braavos. I am very grateful for your loyal service.“
	Jaros	bows
	Jaros	"Thank you, your lordship."