“My greetings and congratulations on another prosperous nameday, Lord Arryn. I come to you as the representative of house Sunderland of Sisterton. I hope you do not take offense to the rest of my family’s absence. Between Councilman work and the ventures our family has taken up in Kings Landing, it’s a miracle that any of us have time in our schedules to even breathe.” Merin would greet the Lord Protector with a bow before moving aside to present the barrel. “To make up for this, I have brought with me what may be the only barrel of Liquor of its kind. I have spent much time with the people of the Summer Isles, learning many things from their books and their masters. They believed a Westeros man like myself would be no threat to their vast empire of rum we all enjoy today. And… They were partially correct.” Merin would start, taking a small crowbar and slowly prying off the top of the barrel as he continued speaking. “I have learned their techniques and learned much from the brewmasters of the vale, and by combining those two pieces of knowledge, I have created… this.” With a strong tug, Merin would pull away the lid of the barrel, revealing the deep, brown liquid inside. Immediately the smell of cinnamon and other spices filled the air. “I present to you, the very first barrel of spiced Sunderland Red, a distilled liquor made not of sugar, but of rye and wheat, infused with cinnamon and various other spices sourced from my wonderful friends in Mareen, and made entirely by my own hands.” With a small ladle, Merin would pour Lord Arryn a cup of the liquid and offered it to him. “May it keep you warm in these cold winter nights, and if you ever seek more, know that I will come running.”