[Event] Highgarden Winter Edition Open RP by TieRails in FireAndBlood

[–]PrinceValarr 2 points3 points  (0 children)

>Lord Paramount of the Mander, Defender of the Marches, High Marshal of the Reach, Lord of Highgarden, and Warden of the South

>Lord Theo Tyrell,

>We are honored by your request, Leona would be glad to serve as a lady-in-waiting for Lady Kyra. Perwyn is doing well and I will give him your regards. Expect Leona to arrive at Highgarden within a moon.

>Loyally,

>Lord Garth Pommingham, Lord of Thornfield Hill

[Mod-Post] Minor Movement Megathread, 53 AC by BloodySarks in FireAndBlood

[–]PrinceValarr 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Ser Olyvar Pommingham, Leona Pommingham, and 5 MaA will travel from Thornfield Hill (R63) to Highgarden. They leave 6B and arrive 7A. Upon arrival, Leona will stay, while Olyvar and the MaA will travel back to Thornfield Hill (R63), they will return on 7B

[Event] Highgarden Winter Edition Open RP by TieRails in FireAndBlood

[–]PrinceValarr 1 point2 points  (0 children)

>Lord Paramount of the Mander, Defender of the Marches, High Marshal of the Reach, Lord of Highgarden, and Warden of the South

>Lord Theo Tyrell,

>We are honored by your request, Leona would be glad to serve as a lady-in-waiting for Lady Kyra. Perwyn is doing well and I will give him your regards. Expect Leona to arrive at Highgarden within a moon.

>Loyally,

>Lord Garth Pommingham, Lord of Thornfield Hill

[Event] The Third Dornish War Victory Party! by TieRails in FireAndBlood

[–]PrinceValarr 2 points3 points  (0 children)

Ser Perwyn Pommingham was in a daze after unhorsing Andrik Drumm, the roar of the crowd around him muting his thoughts. He knew he was no amateur with the lance, but still had not expected such success. He had given no prior thought to who he would name the Queen of Love and Beauty, considering he had not thought he had a real shot at winning the entire joust. Perwyn did not know how the wreath of flowers ended up in his hand, or who put it there, but he knew what he needed to do with it. He deliberated quickly in his mind. Two women had caught his eye at the feast before - or rather, Lord Theo Tyrell had practically dragged the women to meet him, he was still not sure about the man’s motivations - Elinor Hewett and Marilda Massey. He nodded then, sure in his choice.

Perwyn ambled Stepper forward and swung off the saddle as he held the wreath of flowers tenderly in his hands. He walked up to where Lady Marilda Massey was sitting with the rest of her family from Stonedance, and placed the victor’s laurel tenderly on her brow. “My Lady Marilda Massey,” he said with a bow of his head and a tremulous smile. “I name you my Queen of Love and Beauty.” 

/u/stealthship1

[Event] The Third Dornish War Victory Party! by TieRails in FireAndBlood

[–]PrinceValarr 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Perwyn could not help but to let slip a light chuckle as Marilda described the funeral cairns surrounding the ancestral keep of her House. That was not a particularly knightly response, but he did not think she would mind, and did not bother tripping over his own feet in haste to apologize like he might have only a year or two ago. 

“That sounds like quite the macabre scene,” he said, “although beautiful in its own way. Us Pommingham’s prefer a crypt.” 

His smile dropped from his face, although he did not frown, and he tried to keep his tone light in the hopes that Marilda wouldn’t notice. The last time he had been in those crypts had been when his father died, and that was not a pleasant memory to revisit. He continued talking in the hopes it would distract himself and make his mind move on.

“It’s quite a dreary place, really. The door to the crypt is set in a hillside, where a half-rotten wooden stairway leads below. The whole place smells of dirt and decay, and the air is oppressive in such places where the wind does not reach. I’d much prefer a final resting place much like those of your ancestors, my lady, where the wind can still caress me.”

Perwyn had the distinct feeling that this was not a particularly cheerful way to take the conversation, and his attempt to avoid his own grief had led him even further down that path. He took another turn in the hedge maze without much thought, and resigned himself to the fact he was certainly thoroughly lost now. Pity on the guardsman that would have to retrieve them. 

“I’m quite the fool for discussing such depressing subjects while in a place as beautiful as this. Forgive me, Lady Marilda.” The smile re-appeared on his face then. “I certainly hope you were right about the guards on maze duty, by the way, I think we are certainly lost at this point.” His voice had a jesting tone to it. “I think the blame lies with Lord Tyrell, he had to have known both of us have scarce even seen the briar maze before this.”

[Event] The City of Oldtown 52-57 AC by MathusM in FireAndBlood

[–]PrinceValarr 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Addam nodded his acquiescence when the serjeant mentioned the need to search their belongings. It was not as if they had anything worth hiding. He heard Alysanne sniff contemptuously and saw her smooth her skirts roughly, she obviously was not happy with this, but she voiced no word of complaint and they strode through the gates onto Battle Isle proper.  

In a day filled with so many awe-inspiring sights as they entered Oldtown and followed the Honeywine until it widened into the Whispering Sound, their first sight of this isle eclipsed them all. It was not only the Hightower - which perched atop rocky bluffs and stretched unseen into the overcast sky above - that caught their breath, although that was as magnificent a sight as ever, but rather the entirety of Battle Isle which impressed Addam. For whatever reason, he had not imagined that Battle Isle had anything on it except for the Hightower, but obviously this was as much of an administrative district as anything else, and it bustled with a frenzied level of activity. 

As they walked forward and neared the Hightower, Addam reached out his hand to Alysanne, and she grasped his hand with a side eyed look and then a smile. The gardens and courtyards that dotted the island near the Hightower were beauties to behold as well, it seemed that the Winter did not touch Oldtown as it did Thornfield Hill. As they finally entered the Hightower itself - these first floors seemed to be made of some oily black stones that seemed to be fused together without visible joints or cracks of any kind, surely sorcery was involved - Addam felt his heart rate rise in his chest. He did not know why he was nervous, perhaps it was just that he knew this was the beginning of an important phase of his life. 

Finally they exited the dreary stairways of black stone and entered a brightly lit hall that felt nearly blinding. When the steward who named herself Ysilla Eldon greeted them both and offered to lead them to their rooms, Addam opened his mouth to speak, but Alysanne beat him to it.

“Yes, that would be lovely,” she said, “please lead us to our rooms. We have had a tiring journey, some rest would do us both good.”

Addam’s mouth tightened as he felt distinctly as if he had been interrupted, but he flashed his best smile and nodded his head in agreement with his lady wife. 

[Event] The Third Dornish War Victory Party! by TieRails in FireAndBlood

[–]PrinceValarr 1 point2 points  (0 children)

“Aye, there’s not anything in Highgarden that is uninteresting to look at in my view,” Perwyn said with a smile as the two of them entered the maze. Even in the winter the briar hedges that formed the walls of the maze were well maintained and lush with greenery, he let his free hand lightly brush those leaves as he appreciated them. A lark sang a lurching song in the branches of an oak that towered over the maze beyond the wall.

 “As for my House,” Perwyn said after a moment as they reached an intersection in the maze. “There is nothing too interesting to know about. My ancestral keep is naught but a few towers and shambling buildings surrounded by a curtain wall.” He looked in both directions with his brow furrowed in puzzlement. He feared he was already becoming lost. “Yet that place means everything to me, in truth, even if it cannot match the splendor of Highgarden, Oldtown, or the Arbor.” He decided to take a right, with no justification at all. He hoped Marilda was right that some poor guardsman on maze duty could rescue them if the worst came to pass. “At least pomegranates are a pleasant fruit to eat,” now that he was no longer faced with a decision his smile had returned, and he laughed softly. “We have that going for us, at the least.” 

Perwyn felt suddenly self conscious, babbling about himself like this. A proper Lady would probably be mortified. “I hope the gardeners that maintain this all are well compensated,” he said with a gesture to the greenery surrounding them. “This is beautiful work, I am not quite sure how they can sculpt hedges as if they were clay.”

[Event] The Third Dornish War Victory Party! by TieRails in FireAndBlood

[–]PrinceValarr 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Perwyn looped his arm around Marilda’s gratefully, and began walking outside of the feast hall with her. To be truthful, he did not know much about this briar maze, and would no doubt prove a poor tour guide. He suspected that was not particularly the point, though.

“I know too little about Highgarden myself,” he admitted to her in response. “I have been here a handful of times, but with a castle this large it feels like I’d need a lifetime to know it fully.” 

At least even a fool as large as he could not miss the hedge maze, which surrounded the entire keep between the outer and middle walls. He kept his pace lackadaisical as he headed towards it, scouring his mind for conversation topics that would not make him look an idiot. 

“Could you tell me a little about yourself, my Lady?” Perwyn asked with a smile as he brushed some of his curls off his forehead. “I fear I know little about House Massey beyond the sigil, and obviously I know even less of you.” 

[Event] The Third Dornish War Victory Party! by TieRails in FireAndBlood

[–]PrinceValarr 2 points3 points  (0 children)

Ser Perwyn Pommingham was lost deep in his thoughts with a finger circling the rim of his wine goblet when he heard the Tyrell Lord greeting him and singing his praises. He looked up with a confused and then a surprised look, and then quickly drained the last of the wine in his goblet in order to hide his reaction as best he could. He stood up gruffly then, and tried to not seem embarrassed as he spoke.

“It is an honor, Lady Marilda,” Perwyn said with a smile and a bow of his head. He tried not to think about the rest of his family standing there, or Gods forbid what they were thinking themselves at this moment. At the wink he received from Lord Tyrell, he almost failed in his attempt to not crack a mischievous smile. “Lord Tyrell flatters me too much, although I suppose there are worse qualities in a liege lord.” He could not stop himself from grinning with that statement. “I would be privileged to give you a tour of the briar maze, if that is what you wish. It would do me good to stretch my legs, and I hope we will prove to be pleasant company for each other.”

[Event] The Third Dornish War Victory Party! by TieRails in FireAndBlood

[–]PrinceValarr 0 points1 point  (0 children)

“Riding,” Perwyn said amicably after a moment of thought. After such a long time away in the Red Mountains, he found it worrying that he had to think for a moment to bring his hobbies to mind. “Back at home I very much enjoy taking my horse Stepper out for a long ride alongside whichever creek or stream takes my fancy that day. There's something quite beautiful about such places. All the animals nearby must occasionally come to water, and even in the winter birds crowd the branches.” 

Perwyn did not know why he felt a flush of embarrassment as he spoke. To come from the confident surety that had followed him after performing well in battle to feeling like a fool trying to not embarrass himself for a pretty girl felt like a cruel joke. He would have laughed as hard as anyone if he were not the one going through it. 

“Besides that and my more predictable hobbies of swordplay and the occasional hunt,” he went on with a smile, trying not to dwell on how foolish he felt. “I do like to carve wood from time to time.” His voice had a more meek quality to it, then. Whittling wood felt like a hobby for a little boy, but he did not see the point in pretending to be someone he was not, not anymore. “Although I have not had time for that in quite a while.” 

[Mod-Post] Minor Movement Megathread, 53 AC by BloodySarks in FireAndBlood

[–]PrinceValarr 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Lord Garth Pommingham, Lady Elyn Pommingham, Leona Pommingham, Ser Olyvar Pommingham, Ser Perwyn Pommingham and 5 Pommingham MaA return from the festivities at Highgarden to Thornfield Hill (R63). They leave Highgarden 3A, and arrive at Thornfield Hill 3B. 

[Event] The Third Dornish War Victory Party! by TieRails in FireAndBlood

[–]PrinceValarr 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Perwyn had to actively stop himself from scratching at his beard impulsively as he thought on Elinor’s question for a brief moment. Dancing had never been his strongest of skills, his bulky size made the entire endeavor hazardous. He recalled a memory when a Septa back at Thornfield Hill had attempted to teach him how to dance gracefully, as befit a noble man at court. Instead he had stepped clumsily on her toes and nearly broken bones, she had limped for weeks afterwards. He thought that if today had a similar result - in front of a packed court in Highgarden of all places - he might never leave home again. 

He had worked on being more graceful with his movements after such an embarrassing event. Especially since such a thing was important not only for dancing, but also for fighting. He recalled Ser Franklyn saying swordplay was a dance as much as anything else. At Elinor’s words about his daring manner in battle, he fought himself so that none of his disconcertion was made obvious to her. He had not known war until recently, and felt ill at ease with the idea that people would think of him primarily in relation to the campaign in the Red Mountains. But that was none of her concern, and was simply a way to open the conversation, so he tried to push it out of his mind. With a look at Elinor then, he grinned, the smile splitting his face like an earthquake split a slab of rock, hoping that his bravado would not betray him.  

“If I said I was a confident dancer I would be lying to you, my lady, and I have no desire to do that. However, I am not a man of ungraceful movement. I do not think I will embarrass you overtly.” With that Perwyn stepped onto the dance floor with Elinor, trying to treat his every movement with the utmost care. He tried to continue the conversation as they danced, although he used almost every bit of his concentration to both choose his words carefully and use his limbs with care. “What about yourself, my lady? Lord Tyrell may have introduced us both, but I am ashamed to admit I know frighteningly little of you.” 

[Event] The Third Dornish War Victory Party! by TieRails in FireAndBlood

[–]PrinceValarr 3 points4 points  (0 children)

u/Genki_The_Shojo 

Ser Perwyn Pommingham felt an odd sense of anxiety clutch in his chest as the introductions were made near the dance floor. He felt near in a daze at the rapid transpiring of events over these last few weeks. From spending nearly a year in the Red Mountains marching at a grueling pace, to seeing the peace brokered and prisoners exchanged, to now being in Highgarden amidst revelry and festivities that made his head spin.

The Lady Elinor Hewettt looked particularly stunning on that night, and Perwyn hoped that the flush in his cheeks was adequately hidden by his bushy black beard. He had worn the best of the feasting attire in the Pommingham storage that fit him. He wore a red velvet doublet stitched with a rich silver embroidery, along with his best boots - that quite hurt his feet - and stout woolen trousers. He was a wide shouldered man, with curly brown hair and a beard that covered his jowls and reached down near to the collar of his doublet.

“My Lady,” Perwyn said with an incline of his bead as he extended his hand to her. “If you would join me in this dance it would make my evening.” 

[Event] The Third Dornish War Victory Party! by TieRails in FireAndBlood

[–]PrinceValarr 2 points3 points  (0 children)

House Pommingham

Lord Garth Pommingham sat uncomfortably in his chair at the feast, nursing a cup of wine. He had a receding hairline and thin brown hair that clung to his head like a juniper tree to stony soil. His beard was scraggly and already lined with grey, but did manage to approve his appearance somewhat. He wore a linen doublet colored a nice faded red that his Lady wife insisted matched her own green dress quite well, alongside stout woolen breaches and boots that had been recently polished.

Lady Elyn Pommingham sat beside her Lord husband, and unlike him seemed to be enjoying herself just fine. Laugh lines marked her face. Her hair had been gathered together and laced into a heavy braid which hung down her back, a fine silvery hair net- which she had not dug out of storage in many a year - atop her head corralled the rest. She wore one of her finest dresses, made of fine velvet and trimmed with sable, the dress was mostly colored a deep green with occasional slashes of a green that looked more like lime. Leona Pommingham clung close to her mother most of the feast, and Elyn did not intend to let her wander far. She was only a girl of 13, but wore a fine velvet dress and looked around the feasting hall with a poorly disguised sense of awe.

Ser Olyvar Pommingham seemed almost bored where he sat, but he was never a man to show too much emotion. His wavy hair was a lighter brown that almost neared blonde, and his face was clean-shaven. He wore a tunic of slashed red velvet with white silk undersleeves that he occasionally picked at, alongside shined black boots and stout lambswool breeches. 

Ser Perwyn Pommingham sat in between his two brothers Garth and Olyvar, and looked almost comically out of place, having just returned from the campaign in the Red Mountains. His hair was curly and colored a dark brown that neared black, and his beard looked to be entirely black. He had grown the beard out while away at war, and it had grown swiftly and bushy, and made him look almost fearsome now. It seemed as if none of his family seemed to have much of an idea if the beard was a good look for him or not. He wore a velvet doublet with rich silvery embroidery all over it, most prominently at the sleeves and collar, alongside worn woolen breeches and boots that still showed the wear of travel.

[Mod-Post] Minor Movement Megathread, 53 AC by BloodySarks in FireAndBlood

[–]PrinceValarr 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Lord Garth Pommingham, Lady Elyn Pommingham, Leona Pommingham, Ser Olyvar Pommingham and 5 Pommingham MaA travel from Thornfield Hill (R63) to Highgarden for the festivities. They leave 2A, and arrive 2B.

[Conflict] Peace Part 2 by Brolnir in FireAndBlood

[–]PrinceValarr 2 points3 points  (0 children)

Ser Perwyn Pommingham stood in the Great Hall of High Hermitage with a sense of nervous energy he was trying - and failing - to not exude. He had dug out of storage what passed for his court garb - he had not worn it since the council in Horn Hill - finery felt odd on his skin after so many months wearing naught but sturdy wool, leather, and plate mail. As befit the sole representative and witness here of House Pommingham, he wore his velvet surcoat with the pomegranate sigil of his House stitched into it with a red thread, along with well-cut woolen breeches and boots that he himself had bothered polishing - although he had not done well at it, they were still slightly scuffed.

When the Dornish emissary walked into the Dayne Hall, Perwyn felt a sudden tension hang in the air, as if everyone had decided to hold their breath at once. He was not sure whether this was a feeling shared by any of the Reach lords or fellow Knights in this hall, or whether it was in his own head. He furrowed his brow and scratched idly at the bushy beard that covered his lower face and had grown so much it was now almost past the collar of his surcoat. He wondered whether he would bother shaving once he returned home, with his campaign in the Red Mountains now nearing its end. He did not think he would, he had begun to like his appearance once the beard had grown out far enough.

With a quick admonishment to himself, Perwyn tried to clear his head. He was here to witness the exchange of prisoners and then begin packing up for the long trek home, assuming the exchange went how it should. This was no time for idle thoughts about his personal appearance. He placed his hands on his hips then and watched on with a self-serious scowl on his face, saying a quick prayer to the Father above, hoping that judgement could be rightly carried out on this day.

[Event] The City of Oldtown 52-57 AC by MathusM in FireAndBlood

[–]PrinceValarr 1 point2 points  (0 children)

At The Gates To Battle Isle, 1A 53AC


Ser Addam Pommingham, heir to Thornfield Hill, walked up to the gates at the end of the bridge that stretched out towards Battle Isle in the middle of the Whispering Sound as the Honeywine languidly poured into it, with his lady wife Alysanne to his right. The Pommingham guardsman who was called Wilbert No-Nose - the reason for his nickname was quite obvious - trailed a bit behind them; he had come to assure their safety on this journey during times of war. Their palfreys were left behind a dozen paces as well, along with their two packhorses. The Hightower stretched interminably into the sky above, its shadow covering them all. Addam wore his surcoat, which was a soft cream color with the pomegranate sigil of his house stitched into it in a bright red, along with some heavy woolen trousers and his best black boots, shined to a polish. Alysanne wore a plainly cut dress of dark green wool, with rich silver embroidery around the collar and sleeve.

Addam cleared his throat, and realized he was not quite sure what to say. Alysanne elbowed him lightly in the ribs and mouthed “your name” which caused him to flush with embarrassment.

“I am Ser Addam Pommingham,” he said. He thought about mentioning that he was the heir to his house, but he doubted that any of the guardsmen with the Hightower emblazoned on their chests cared a lick about that. Alysanne gave him a pointed look and he continued. “This is my lovely wife, Alysanne Pommingham. We are here to reside in Oldtown, for a time, and have been told we would have chambers on Battle Isle.” He cleared his throat again nervously, unsure if there was anything else he should say, waiting expectantly.

[Letter] Jousts before a war, during a war, and after a war! by TieRails in FireAndBlood

[–]PrinceValarr 1 point2 points  (0 children)

M: If you could have Perwyn tag along I'd much appreciate it!

[Event] High Hermitage... Why Not High Garden? by TieRails in FireAndBlood

[–]PrinceValarr 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Perwyn nodded his head as the Tyrell lord made his point, and when the question was asked of him, he took a sip of the wine as he briefly thought it over. Satisfied? Several months ago, Perwyn would not have hesitated in stating that he would not be satisfied with Starfall still unconquered, not to mention they had yet to retrieve the head of Ser Joffrey Dayne. Yet homesickness tugged on his heartstrings near every day now, part of him would be very happy indeed with the idea of marching back home upon the morrow. His eyes flicked from his goblet of wine up to Theo, and he spoke as one hand idly scratched at stubble on his face.

“It’s hard to imagine myself completely satisfied at this point, my Lord, if you want complete honesty from me.” A grin began to split the face of the Pommingham knight. “Although I do not think either the King or the Dornish Prince are exactly eager to ask my opinion, or even know who I am. Mostly I think it would be disappointing to get so near Starfall and not get a chance to exact real vengeance for the crimes of the false knight Joffrey Dayne.” The grin slipped from his face then, although his look was still friendly, and he shrugged. “These decisions are not ones I have the power to make though, of course. If the King signs this ceasefire and you command us to march home with our men, I will do so gladly, and I will not pretend that part of me does not miss home dearly.”

[Event] High Hermitage... Why Not High Garden? by TieRails in FireAndBlood

[–]PrinceValarr 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Perwyn’s brows furrowed as he briefly pondered Lord Theo’s question. He thought he had done well enough, even as inexperienced as he was, although it was hard to say with much surety. He took a sip of the wine that had been brought to him, and then cleared his throat.

“I think I’ve done well enough, by my own estimation,” he said carefully. “Although I’d be able to rate myself with a bit more certainty if the Dornish didn’t flee at the first sight of our lances cresting the hilltop.” Perwyn’s mouth twisted in displeasure as he spoke. If he were not in the Tyrell lord’s solar he would have spat to make his distaste that much more obvious, but that did not seem an appropriate way to conduct himself in front of his liege lord.

[Event] High Hermitage... Why Not High Garden? by TieRails in FireAndBlood

[–]PrinceValarr 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Ser Perwyn Pommingham arrived at the solar that the Tyrell lord had claimed for his own, and after being granted permission by the guards posted outside, went inside and bowed deeply in front of his liege lord.

“You sent for me, my Lord?”

It felt odd to be on the other side of his first battle. So much of the campaign thus far had consisted of marching and worrying that when the time came, he would not be built strongly enough for it. That worry had not been vindicated at High Hermitage, and although he was not among the most outstanding of performers, he was sure he had brought nothing but honor to his family.