Phase 1.1: Mushroom bids you farewell (mandatory)

Doesn’t it feel every time I see that man he’s telling a so called common man that he could take his life or head at his whim…

There was plenty he wanted to say but he managed to keep his mouth shut, swallowing both his words and the bitter taste pooling off his tongue. While his name was known far and wide, he didn’t have Nathan’s resources or connections nor the blood so cherished here.  To many here, he was only a tool and tools were either useful or useless.

That’s the gist of it though, Green or Black were just two sides of the same coin in truth. They’ll fight a war to prove its no matter what’s between your legs, then remind you the next how they can take your life at their leisure based on what pair of spread legs they happened to pop out from. Green or Black mattered little really- noble or not there were just good people, bad ones and some that were just something else entirely. Truth be told he was likely one of the latter himself though surely for different reasons.


The reputed archer and huntsman shook his head as if to clear it from his thoughts. Then a moment of silence to collect himself before adding his voice to the group.

“Noble Lords, Fair Ladies, Good Knights, Brave Soldiers! Here all we be standin, all children of this land though it may stretch far and wide. A family we surely be though it may not always be seemin so. And aye Tis true families do be quarrelling from time to time…but not when a fight be around the horizon with people tryin to cause our family harm. No this be the time we stand and be reminding em of who they be dealing with…”
He gives a half smile and looks around the crowd before finishing.  “And one thing I be knowing surely,  This is not the family they want to be messing with.”

Will(Dedication) TN 9: 3d6 16
Persuasion(Convince) TN 12: 4d6 16
BOA Reroll-BOA Reroll- Mushroom: 1d6 1, Convince Total =15

Will Roll(16) X 2=32 + Convince Roll(15)=47
+1B to one other official event roll in Phase 1

[OOC: For the record, Baelon's tone was at no point threatening or swaggering. He really was just stating facts. Those predisposed not to care are free to ignore this.]

Loreia wrote:
"Lord Frey, you seem to have faulty information or a skewed perspective of how things went at Riverrun," she snaps, turning the knife of his words back on him with her own needling. "Allow me to correct you. Ser Eoric had nothing to do with the death of your brute son. If you want to blame anyone for what happened at Riverrun, I'd tell you to point your finger at the septon of House Dulver, but he's merely a holy servant to the Seven, only preaching their will."

"Perhaps the fault lies with you for allowing Ser Benjen to grow into a monster that many were too afraid to oppose," she punctuates, twisting the knife.

[Heh, here's my critical failure in RP.]

Dammit, he thought, make one comment and look what spirals out. This was why he shouldn't speak. If things deteriorated any further, he would step in otherwise, this campaign was going to begin in acrimony and death.

Oh what glorious debacle, and for once it has nothing to do with me.

Theomore, having arrived in Lord Frey's retinue remained as expressionless as few others could be, it suited him just fine not to be mentioned, to remain just another silent face out of many, and Mushroom was far from done, he would have his turn exchanging pleasantries, they probably would both enjoy it. Besides, his liege lord was a man of constraint, and no slouch when it came to his ability to navigate a crowd, good qualities for such troubling waves rippling through this sea.

Gods, Shieldmaiden, are they too daft up at Grenward not to teach you to shut up?

Theomore never thought of her as Loreia anymore, only the Shieldmaiden, Ser Loreia would upset one half of the realms, just Loreia would upset the other, The Shieldmaiden was a diplomatic choice of words. A knight would be challenged to a duel over such words, and Lord Forrest approved of Loreia's knighting, following that line of thinking, Lord Forrest issuing just such a challenge would reinforce the concept. Did Lord Forrest see that? As a knight in Lord Forrest's service, Theomore could throw his own glove at her feet, serve both his prince and his banner lord by showing all the realms that the defenders of the king's will did not just knight her for fun, that they held her to the same standard as any other knight.

Alas, doing so would be to betray his other prince, and the liege lady of his banner lord. And so his past actions comes back to bind him. Theomore Tullison, the man once having said that he does not let opportunities pass him by has to watch this one leave, he cannot even be seen whispering in the ear of his lord, or any other knight in his service. A small disservice, perhaps, doubly so if a man more loyal to the greens makes the same conclusions and spreads the tale of how Lord Forrest did not truly treat the shieldmaiden as a knight.

[Still deciding what sort of things to do with my rolls, but wanted to add my little piece]

Will: 3d6 10
Persuasion (Bargain): 4d6k3 14
+1B for one roll in Phase 1!
Score: 2x10+14=34.

Walton as always, despite being taller by head than most, tried to be invincible in crowd. At first he didn't pay attention to Mushroom fooling around- whenever he did, he had to fight urge to hurt him. Young Dulver was keeping rather closer to lower born part of gathering, as he didn't like to be surrounded with too many titles- they often overwhelmed him. Of course he was returning kind bows and nods whenever he saw known face- with no difference what his disposition towards person was.

He was sipping wine bored, until Nathaniel Mason joined discussion. Not only he agreed with him in many points, but got very content with comments towards Ser Eoric- Walton had low opinion of Tully after their last encounter. Threatening reaction of 'Lord Drakeson' surprised him though, as he always thought bastard should feel closer to men of less noble birth. That wasn't first time when Walton was wrong, and probably not the last one.

But whatever present there men and women were saying, Walton tried to stay not involved, be just another man among the crowd. As always he kept away from big problems, preferring to act than talk. He was waiting until moment when they will stand against enemies, moment everybody will show their true worth. Not with words, but with swords, as that's how You win wars. Nothing else could young Dulver do, except shaking his head with pity, hearing men and women shout about politics, while they were all in one camp. Walton was especially surprised by unconcerned comment of man Walton liked and thought as paragon of virtue, Ser Jorah- he was curious, was that remark intended or just rash.

[OOC: I know what Baelon wrote in 'Game Discussion' and above in this thread about not threatening Nathan, only stating facts, etc.]

Mushroom bids you farewell: Will(Courage/Dedication): 3d6k3 10

"Ah the young kraken, far from home aren't you? Ever feel you are a bit out of your depth with no one to save you from drowning or maybe you would enjoy that hmm?"

"Only if its salt water." Darron responds with a laugh. "But I do wonder when you bathe do you fill the tub up all the way or just up to half the way so you don't drown? Then again maybe you have your own special tub so someone doesn't have to help you in."

The dwarf and Ironborn go back and forth for a bit until Mushroom grows tired of trading insult's

Mushroom bids you farewell: Persuasion(Charm) TN 12: 4d6k3 10

This arguing before we set off for war isn't inspiring me in the hopes for people to have my back and others when the time is needed.

Aerion shuffles from foot to foot, full of energy and impatience in equal measure. He's still getting used to the weight of his new armor; it's still more about function than form, but there's a new splash of color to him, armor notwithstanding. Worn like a scarf around his neck, then tucked beneath his armor, is a swath of red silk. Every now and then, in between jokes with the old squire, Rooster Pete, Aerion adjusts a strap, shrugs under the weight of his new metal skin, or -- without seeming to know he does it -- runs a finger under the red silk collar he's given himself.

The shouting from the nobler-born has stopped, but there's no denying it seems more like shocked silence than an end to the disagreement; the calm before the storm, no doubt.

"...I thought you said a chicken," Pete finishes his latest miserable, crude, joke, and only his good-natured elbow even reminds Aerion he'd missed the rest of the lewd tale. The young squire forces some laughter for the scarred older one, but casts worried glances towards the arguing nobles from time to time.

Aerion Storm wrote:Aerion shuffles from foot to foot, full of energy and impatience in equal measure.  He's still getting used to the weight of his new armor;  it's still more about function than form, but there's a new splash of color to him, armor notwithstanding.  Worn like a scarf around his neck, then tucked beneath his armor, is a swath of red silk.  Every now and then, in between jokes with the old squire, Rooster Pete, Aerion adjusts a strap, shrugs under the weight of his new metal skin, or -- without seeming to know he does it -- runs a finger under the red silk collar he's given himself.

In the stunned silence in the wake of Ser Loreia's rant, Corrine, glancing around in shock and anxiety, spots the splash of colour around Aerion's neck. Her eyes widened a little, then darted away.

That looks like the headscarf I gave away... at the carnival!
Surely not. Red silk scarves are hardly rare.
But... I met him before, at Daveth's wedding... I don't think I saw him wear such a thing.
You know fine well that people don't wear the same things all the time.
It's quite a coincidence though. Perhaps I should quietly enquire.
Can't you leave well alone? Do ypu want to get yourself in trouble? Even if it's not the same man, you would be revealing you were there, for him to go tell anyone.
He didn't seem like that sort of person.
Few people seem bad to you. It's that naïvete that gets you in trouble. Remember what Nathan said? Don't trust everyone so easily, especially those who oppose you politically.
I will think of something. I have to know.
Fool girl. You've learned nothing.

Ser Jon had rode to King's Landing with Ser Theomore, his friend Triston Tollet, and the Tullison contingent. With Lord Forrest Frey being Theomore's liege, Jon had an opportunity to speak with him, reliving the amazing joust the two had had at the Drakeson tourney not too long ago. "It was an honor to go against you in the joust my lord." Ser Jon was smart enough not to mention he won, or the injuries Lord Forrest had sustained.

As Mushroom passed by Ser Jon and Triston Jon swore he heard the dwarf say something along the lines of 'small Jon' then laughed. A large part of Jon wanted to say something. Who'd care if a knight mocked a fool? But Jon calmed himself and did his best to ignore the barb (imagined or not).

Mushroom B.Y.F. - Will TN 9: 3d6k3 7 +2 BoA =9

When Ser Lorent struck the fool Ser Jon winced at the less than honorable act. "What purpose does that serve?" He looked to the men around him looking for agreement but most were content to keep to themselves.

Mushroom B.Y.F. - Persuasion (Convince), TN 12: 4d6k3 10

Score: 28

This was all very uncomfortable to Triston.  He was a simple man from a far away place.  When he heard the fool first speak, he couldn't help but chuckle.  And when the fool took a fist for his trouble his smile faded.  It was within the man's rights, sure, but clearly it showed a lack of self restraint.  He was just a fool after all, what else did he expect.  

Someone passed by and quipped, "Unseemly."  To which Triston agreed, "Aye, perhaps he has a short temper.  I would be equally irritated if I stood in place staring at nothing all day, waiting for a threat that never came.  Plus, you know, not being able to, well, you know."  He shrugs and looked away, realizing others were closer than he might have liked when he made his jape.  

The young man decides it would be best to shut up for awhile and just peers around in a similar manner to that he had just ridiculed.  

Will: WILL: 3d6k3 9 vs. TN 9, Success (1 DoS)

Persuasion: PERSUASION: 3d6k3 12 vs. TN 12, Success (1 DoS)

Total Score: 30

+1 Bonus to Scene (Undetermined)

Aerion keeps half an eye on the one who murmured agreement with him, and expounded on it -- Tollett colors, I think.  A Vale house. -- and gives him a smile and a friendly head-toss if he catches his attention.  

Shared disapproval makes friends, sometimes.  And wars can make friends, too, for that matter.  Not often between Storm squires and Vale knights, but stranger things have happened.  The important thing was a mutual agreement that Marbrand hadn't been particularly chivalrous.  

Green or Black, it was nice that some saw that beating a fool, and a wee one at that, was hardly knightly.

[gah! placeholder before this thread moves too far along for the septon to comment!]

Rolls:

Triston realizes someone has noticed his words. He immediately puts on an uncomfortable smile and returns the nod.

"Don't try to be so witty," he thinks disapprovingly. "The kingsguard might be someone's kin."

With a stern glance at Loreia, and Nathan having gone off to talk with the Marstens, Baelon addresses the two men.

"Clearly, there is some issue that needs to be resolved. This was no casual jest. However, this is neither the time  nor place to discuss it. Please, I implore you both as my dear friends - do nothing, say nothing more about this today. Let us meet tomorrow, in private, to discuss this for the good of all."

[OOC if appropriate, non event-related roll here: Persuade(Charm) Ser Eoric & Lord Forrest: 6d6k5+7 28 2#1d6 4 3
4 replaces 1 for [6, 5, 4, 4, 4], 2] +7 = 23+7 = 30; includes penalty for Bastard Born and disposition modifier.]

Jon looks to Triston and Aerion and motions for the three to converge. When the three assembled Jon gave a head nod to the growing argument between lords and knights, "Who needs enemies with friends like these?"

After a chuckle Ser Jon adds, "All this over a woman," Jon looks towards Loreia, "It seems the more things change, the more they stay the same."

Aerion chuckles a bit, but keeps a wary eye on the proceedings.

"There's more to it than the Shieldmaiden, I think. She may be the spark, but something else has been the dry grass, aye?"

Triston looked over at Jon and then to Aerion. "Aye."

He rubbed his chin as they waited. He was nervous and uncomfortable and attempted to keep his thoughts to himself. The man of the Vale didn't want to make an ass of himself and the others he was there with. Best be quiet, he told himself.

With a deep breath, Corrine clambers up onto a bench and shouts to be heard over the flurry of activity.

"Stop arguing, you fools! Can you not see this is what our enemies want? Look around! Blacks at eachother's throats, while Greens look on, assured in their triumph to see how fractured we are! Will you let agitators play on our old grudges and weaknesses until we destroy eachother and our cause, so they may march to victory over our corpses! Our King tried to use adversity to unify Black and Green against a common enemy. That has failed. Do not make this mistake any longer!"

She thrusts an accusing finger eastwards, over everyone's heads.

"Across the sea, there are forces that look upon the Seven Kingdoms with envious eyes! If we cannot even keep peace between ourselves in the face of a petty jibe, then we may as well lie down and beg them to plonk their avaricious, foreign arses on our thrones! Sort out your grievances in private and start acting like you care about more than your pride, or we will sleepwalk into a war we will sorely lose. Think on all the innocents who will suffer for this folly!"

Persuasion (Convince): 6d6k5 21

"You best be reminded of your place Loreia and watch the tone and who you speak to in such manner, insults to lord Frey carry a heavy weight and that of all his banner houses behind it" Ereth tone was flat and factual, if Loreia was seeking a war with House Frey, the Coldbrook would probably not survive a combined attack from all Frey bannermen and House Frey leading it if it came to it. Best kill it here and now before it comes to, I have other things to worry than this. "Loreia I would advice to take a seat and a good drink of ale to pass instead, before you take this a step to far" Ereth is sincere and while not sounding pleading, he might as well probably be.

Edit: missed the " after my thoughts. in italics and grammar which I´m sure I´m still missing one or two.

Baelon stares at Ereth incredulously, as if the man had grown an extra head.
Is the man an idiot? To threaten war against an ally without even consulting his liege lord first... he's as bad as Nathan. Worse, he's volunteering to fight the war. At least Nathan had the sense to try to get other people to fight instead.

He catches Loreia's eye, shaking his head slightly. Hopefully she would see and refrain from further comment. The last thing this situation needed was another flare-up.

Aerion gives the other two another little nod, a sidelong glance;  for a moment, they're conspirators, all of them pages again, whispering out of turn while the adults argue.

"Sev'n blessings, Ser Jon" he holds out a gloved hand for a shake.  "And I, for one, dearly hope this send-off doesn't turn to bloodshed."

He'd seen queerer lately.  Riots and the like, Valyrion's running the streets cutting down anyone in their way.  It's been a rough few years in the kingdom, and looked just to get rougher.

Aerion Storm wrote:"Sev'n blessings, Ser Jon" he holds out a gloved hand for a shake.  "And I, for one, dearly hope this send-off doesn't turn to bloodshed."

Shaking Aerion's hand, "Good to see you again. Especially now that it isn't on the tourney grounds." Jon smiled before continuing, "This man here is Triston Tollett, a good friend of mine." Regarding the reactions, and some would say over-reactions, Jon agreed with the southron, "I suppose in the charged times we live in there's always a chance for bloodshed." Jon looked at the group and sighed, "I'd like to think though this isn't one of those instances."

"You'd think the camaraderie from Wyl would carry over, yes?" Jon thought for a moment, "Seems as soon as one battle ends, another begins."

"Well met, Ser Tollet." He nods, "And I rode in Wyl, aye.  Glad to see you two made it, and damn those Dornish scorpions."

He lets out a little sigh, "That's what history is, I suppose, just wars all stacked atop each other until someone writes a book. But it wouldn't be too bad having more than a few moons in between, aye."

The last with a bit of a smile, a try at a jest.

Ser Bryndon Hightower slams a steel-clad fist in to a stable door at Lord Drakeson's curious taunt, near tearing it from its hinges and openly shaking his head.

Men near him swear subsequently that they heard him murmur "By the Seven, my poor cousin," but others dismiss this as idle prattle or others mishearing Ser Bryndon. After all, it is well known that Ser Brydon's cousin Ser Satuyrn perished as a hero during Ser Lorent's heroic escape after being corralled for weeks by a Triarchy encirclement. Oldtown's champion seemed about to do something more drastic, but Ser Alayne Tarly drag him away as the former gestures towards Lord Drakeson and Ser Lorent too, as angry with the messenger as the he is with the Kingsguard.

[OOC: Ser Bryndon Hightower's disposition towards Lord Drakeson deteriorates to Dislike.

Lady Alysane Tully's disposition towards Lady Gwyneth Drakeson deteriorates to Dislike for interfering in her family's business and the Riverlands, and for being to married to Lord Drakeson.

Tweaked Loreia's post to refer to Ser Benjen Frey as Lord Frey's cousin - Loreia would be well aware of this IC so no need to clutter the existing drama with an IC misunderstanding.]

Lord Frey tore off a gauntlet, and was halfway to underlining the Black faction's conviction in Ser Loreia's knighthood by challenging her on the spot, when Lord Drakeson interjected, his winning way with words and longstanding friendship with Lord Frey and Ser Eoric somewhat calming tempers. But charm could only halt challenges, not convince a man to set them aside.

"Ser Loreia will defend her knighthood and her words after this campaign. Let the challenge be delivered today, so no man may doubt my honour, but let honour be satisfied in a duel to first blood once matters are resolved in the Stepstones. The Seven know I did all I could to control my base cousin without damning myself as kinslayer, and they will see my prevail or the Shieldmaiden recant her words."

[OOC: inciting various NPCs against one another will need to wait until the end, but unless some very high rolls come in we'll see the beginning of a rivalry between Ser Eoric Tully and Lord Frey.

I will set a deadline of the 9th of December for this event, to allow for some more IC responses once we know the results on the mechanical side of things, as that will drive further NPC reactions.

Please take roleplay to sidethreads and do not carry the narrative beyond this point for now.]

"Well, well, well, who have we here?" Mushroom exclaims, ever waddling around in search of excitement, and as this most delightful cascade of outbursts winds down, he must seek his entertainment elsewhere. "A man making himself noteworthy by not being noteworthy!" It was true, though, for the past ten years, Theomore would tend to find himself on the center stage on occasions such as these, and here he was, unnoticed, unremarkable, not as much as worthy of mention by Nathan, most people other than Mushroom would likely consider it an improvement. A flicker of anticipation fills the room, once the imp mentioned it, they wondered why, too. Once he had been much like the dwarf's new favorite friend, if perhaps far from as bawdy in his japes. Now he only raises an eyebrow, not really turning his head, an expression someplace between indifference and bored askance.

Mushroom smiles crookedly, cocking his head, apparently not so easily giving up "Congratulations on your wedding, ser, oh how they must weep all these other ladies who's hearts surely must have broken, such high hopes they had for more than just mere moments of your time" Theomore just gives him an amused look, as if he found it humorous rather than insulting. "No barbs for me ser? Have the good lady tamed the fox? Oh, no, no, no, that can't be it..." Mushroom places his chin between thumb and pointing finger, the latter scratching ferociously just beneath and a little to the side of nose, dramatically taking the pose of a thinker, his mouth taking turns of which corner to twitch. "Aha!" He lights up, his hand shooting up in the air, finger up, his whole body making a little bounce while turning stiff. "Responsibility, of course, lands, wife and child, at least one you care to call your own, all your great old fears summed in one little word, ser." Mushroom chuckles, that ought to do it, that has to solicit some retort from the man who had provided him with all the sparring he had ever needed before Nathan came along to show that he needed ever more.

Instead, Theomore simply inflicted upon it the worst insult a mockery could suffer, he laughed at the joke. And the mood Mushroom wanted to whip up failed to materialize, he would have to start again. There is no fun when the one you attempt to insult fails to be insulted. "You were more fun before you decided to act the better man." He shrugs, cocking his head to the side, just about to see if he couldn't find someone else to turn red faced. Nobody watched them now. "On that we can agree" Theomore smiles with something that hints of sadness. "I suppose you have used up Nathan for this evening?" The rules of the fool, cannot show too much favoritism or be too mean to any single person. Or lay it too hard upon those who are already harried, gods how he would have wished for being the target of worse barbs, that thought considered. "I have, you know this game well, old fox."

"And you know far too much for your own good, little man." Curiosity filled the face of the dwarf, he knew when something worth hearing was coming, how easily wasn't secrets shared with this one in the hope that rivals would be humiliated by their revelations? How many of the realm's dislikes and feuds could be kept hidden from the imp? One could half admire his integrity, only a man that would never truly betray the trust of anyone, and never overstep his bounds as a fool could survive for so long. "Yet you never do anything with it to shape history, do you?" It sounded like a challenge, Theomore held his hand up in a slow motion, his other removing an imaginary glove, conspicuously hiding his mouth for anyone that might read his lips, his palm angling the sound down towards the floor. "But perhaps you have the courage to do so, just once?" Mushroom looks at him with suspicion on his mind, he was after all, about to be asked to do something he shouldn't, by a man who's games had grown ever more dangerous and chaotic, with rules that were made up as he went along. "Your little duet back there certainly gave the queen's friends good entertainment, you wouldn't happen to have treat just as delicious to sate the hungers of the other half?"

Mushroom weights the dare up and down, Theomore recognizes the look. Maybe it will work, maybe it will not. He makes a flick of his wrist as to throw the glove at his feet. The dwarf replies by seeming to snatch it out of the air. Then he starts waddling off in search of a better mark than Theomore. He was there to entertain the crowd, after all, not his own fancies. Mostly.

"Enjoy your work" He offers to the little man. "Oh, I do, I do." comes the reply.

After making his way through the room, trading barbs with whomever he meets, the dwarf comes before the delegation from Casterly Rock, making a harumph to get everyone's attention before reciting a poem, hasty in the making.

"Lord Lannister,
oh you dashing cat,
gold you scat,
You tried to buy the princess' affections,
Only to earn her scornful rejections,
But what profit for a man in buying a council seat,
Your coin got you only rotting seahorse meat"

Well, now, Theomore thinks to himself, that's entertainment.

Mushroom-Will+WF: 5d6k4 +2BoA 18
Taunt the Mushroom: 6d6k5+2 lucky: 6d6k5+2 15

51 total, +1B to some latter event, shame Lord Lannister if available, otherwise his brother will do nicely enough.

[Mushroom involvement approved by reader, he also wants credit for editing of the poem to fit his style.]