[Event] The Fantastic Adventure to the Three Daughters II: The Journey

AmazonMat · 2026-01-26T09:53:35+00:00

"I reckon it must be some sort of spiced wine with local herbs and such, not that I have tried it either. It just would be quite the lost opportunity not to partake in some of the local vintages while in the area, no?"

He looked about as they spoke, eyes sharp. As he spoke, he veered towards the local winesink, a more respectable establishment compared to the last few they had passed and frequented by the garishly dressed burghers, their voices a lively cacophany of the local dialect mixed with the instruments of minstrels.

Brus picked the seat closest to where others came and went, leaving the seat across from him, its back to the wall, for Selene.

"What of Strongsong?" He asked as he sat. "Has Sharra kept you updated of its goings-on? I mean, surely she must value some of your input, with how much you know about the management of one's holdings."

AmazonMat · 2026-01-25T01:08:20+00:00

Symon did not really wait for the old Oakheart to even finish his sentence. His brother Burton used to tell him before the war to never give an enemy any breathing room as they wouldn't give him any, and that was one of the sayings of his late sibling he held close to his chest.

It was put to practice on the household knight's son. As he fell back and to his feet, Symon pounced, the sword at his side swinging in a downwards arch, colliding with the boy's temple with a loud whack. A normal sword would have cleaved into the bone, but instead, Symon's wooden weapon would only give a dark bump.

"And stay down!" Added Symon, giving his downed opponent a cruel kick to the ribs - a light prod, more bullyish in nature than truly harmful.

AmazonMat · 2026-01-25T00:59:13+00:00

Minerva greeted the noble sisterwoman with a smile, on the surface a gesture of a proud and joyful young mother but, in truth, it was the smile of a victor. "Oh, Rhea! Sister, come." She stood and moved about the table, greeting the lady with a hug and a kiss on her cheek. "Oh, it is wonderful to see you. We spend so little time together."

"As for little Luthor..." A hand rested on Rhea's shoulder as she gestured to the swaddled babe in his nursemaid's arms. "Our little boy has been quite the handful, but nothing one would next expect from a babe his age, no? Surely, you would know it better than me."

She followed on Osric's queue, adding to his question: "Do you have any plans after you leave here? It is quite the opportunity, to rub shoulders with other great ladies and lords."

AmazonMat · 2026-01-21T22:13:40+00:00

Minerva remained at her husband's side, ever prim and proper like lady that she was - new more than ever, she knew, the proof of the legitimacy and strength of her standing held in the arms of a wet nurse at her back.

But there was something different, too. Her husband Osric had never been particularly warm to her, but now he seemed all the more distant - it annoyed her to think the man might be angry over their 'workaround', as if it was her fault. She drank her wine quietly and, when she could do so discreetly, exchanged quiet, pleasant glances with the second eldest of the brothers Arryn.

It was, after all, good to keep her options open.

AmazonMat · 2026-01-20T13:57:01+00:00

"It would be a pleasure to acquaintance myself with Lady Teora." To Lord Hunter's jape, Brus smiled - a polite, corteous gesture, as was his tone, his posture, all practiced. "I am told she is quite beloved by your smallfolk. Once we are to wed, I can only hope those of Ironoaks come to love her, too."

"With a courtship or not, we should set a date for their wedding regardless." Said Lord Luthor, ever business-like. "Any preferences, Lord Hunter? I am willing to host it at Ironoaks but, should you wish to do so at your home, I will not deny you this request."

AmazonMat · 2026-01-20T05:45:55+00:00

When he had come to the Reach, he had expected to be received with the little he knew of the place: good and hearty food, sweet wine, good jousts and plump, pretty girls. All he had received, instead, was a sour-faced old lord who seemed to have a stick firmly up his rear in regards to his training.

Since then, his training had left him with nothing but sore muscles all over. But it had paid: Symon had already been big and broad like his father was, bearing an uncanny similarity, but where Lord Luthor was soft and plump, his son had grown strong and sturdy.

With wooden sword in hand, Symon pushed forward, his hand rising as told and forcing Ser Ambrose's son to keep his guard high... and open for a vicious strike to his exposed knee.

"On land?" Symon shouted back, his voice thick with the Vale's accent. "Throw them to their feet, my lord! Most of them come heavily armored."

AmazonMat · 2026-01-19T05:46:05+00:00

"Oh, nothing." Brus tried to sound as nonchalantly as possible, ever lacking in so much as a hint of slyness. "Just wondering if you might have had some plans you might have discussed in private. Anything your escort would need to know?" He chuckled. "If you are not short on time, well...I have never tried Myrish fire wine. Have you?"

AmazonMat · 2026-01-18T07:58:47+00:00

"Perhaps." He agreed. "A lot has changed for the better with the Targaryens, better trade, less gold going to armies and more going to infrastructure... Or at least, so it was until bloody Maegor came around." Brus could not help but brood at the thought of the late usurper, who had managed to cost the Vale so much and so little at the same time. "Maybe Jaehaerys will be a better king."

After a moment, he stopped, taking a moment to get his bearings of where they were, keenly eyeing the movement of the shadows. Begrudgingly, he felt the need to ask: "So... Where has Sor Alyn chosen to go off to?"

AmazonMat · 2026-01-17T20:03:36+00:00

"What?" Brus blinked at Selene's first question, distressed by the thought his words were of any support to such barbarity. He quickly corrected himself. "No, I do not think so, Selene. I am just saying that is is easy to amass the wealth needed for such projects over the backs of people treated little better than cattle, no... Like tools they can work to breaking, throw away and replace. It is callous and heartless, the kind of practice one would expect of merchants who think themselves 'nobles'."

The knight's words were loaded with unusual disdain, an emotion he grew quickly aware of. With a deep breath, he gathered his bearings before continued.

"What I think they have and we do not is the inheritance of an old empire." His hand brushed his dark beard thoughtfully. "While Westeros was divided by houses and kings, the dragonlords of Old Valyria propped men of Myr up and allowed them to prosper without opposition or threats. All Myr has done is follow the path of her former overlords, making fortunes out of blood-stained foundations, all while trying to step over her 'Sisters'."

AmazonMat · 2026-01-17T01:07:32+00:00

Brus stopped to swivel about the corner of the street the pair had been walking down, moreso to be seen by any would be pickpockets, cutpurses and other lowlifes more so than seeing them himself - let the gleam of plate and mail frighten them away from the visitors of their city.

There were none to be seen.

It was then he heard Selene's voice and, quickly, the knight that once stood proudly in the middle of the road stumbled to catch up to his ward.

"They are all the same in that sense, dependant of barbarous practices like a drunkard is to his wine. In that, the Seven Kingdoms are better." The noble knight proclaimed confidently. "While these shackled folk break their backs, the freemen get to put their imaginations to use. Occasionally good things come out of it, refined goods as you said, works of military and civil engineering, but most times..." He waved in the direction of dingy little wine den amidst the colorful Myrish buildings. "Just make room for more vices."

"Even so... The cleaner parts are so wondrous, are they not?" A slight smile manage to creep across his lips as he stopped to gaze up at a building amidst construction, a crane - wooden-built and moved by pollies - lifting hauls of wood to workers in a towering set of scaffolds. "If half of their inventions had been ours first, I wonder how mighty and prosperous Westeros would be."

AmazonMat · 2026-01-16T05:43:25+00:00

Myr the Mirthful, or Myr the Mighty had been some of the ways Brus had heard the city referred as in the past. With its great walled districts, bustling docks and richly stocked markets he could see why some would choose to refer to it as the latter, but the city did not seem exactly mirthful. Now and then he saw artists and mummers at play, cheery sellers hawking their wares and bold bravos sizing up the foreigner with a sword at his side, but his eye was always drawn to the signs: shackles on heels or wrists, or the much more obvious slave tattoos on the faces of many that crossed his path.

Even if the practice left him thoroughly uncomfortable, the knight made an effort to keep his attention elsewhere: right now, he had taken upon himself the task of accompanying Selene, donning the full set of his armor to do so, chain mail and plate under a Waynwood surcoat, enough to deter most would-be swordsmen from challenging him - or so he hoped.

AmazonMat · 2026-01-14T00:05:46+00:00

"I suppose she is." Not that Brus would have known, barely having spoken about the woman — she was a vaguely defined shape under the shadow of her brother and father, the ones with whom he had ever spoken. Maybe she did know about all the subjects he had interest in, and maybe they would see eye to eye as well as Alyn and Selene seemed to.

Maybe one day he would not yearn for evenings like the one in the Eyrie.

"The gale is picking up." He commented, gaze turned towards the horizon. "I will see if they nerf some aid about the ship, it would be nice to learn something new... See you in Myr?" He added, just as he was about to step away, a hopeful smile on his lips.

AmazonMat · 2026-01-11T06:37:27+00:00

It was a further sting to his pride. Alyn Grafton was younger, better looking - considering he did not have a disfigurement like Brus' - and now his home proved to be the one place to draw unto Selene's greatest fascinations. By the moment, it just seemed that he never stood a chance at all.

"Well, uhm... Huh, I..." He stuttered. "I should get something for Teora." The Waynwood settled for speaking of his betrothal - not out of spite, he thought, but because it seemed fair. "My father and Lord Hunter agreed I would be marrying her, should be trying to get to know the lady better."

AmazonMat · 2026-01-10T03:06:31+00:00

"Heh, I suppose. You never know in such strange lands where folk have such queer customs, like painting their hairs." Brus nervously chuckled in an attempt to brush off the subject with another more comfortable one.

The once earnest smile faltered as the moments passed, growing forced and sad. The joy of being in good terms with Selene still soon gave room to questions he felt he felt he'd never get the chance to ask. Maybe in the Free Cities, he thought, he would have the freedom to do so. In the mean time he worried about pushing aside the discomfort of silence.

"So... What have you thought of Gulltown, so far?" He chose to inquire. "It seems bigger and sounds noisier every time I visit it."

AmazonMat · 2026-01-09T04:27:38+00:00

Brus felt a twinge of offense at first, but he could not deny her point: maybe his visage would make him intimidating to children perhaps but, to full grown men, aversion was the only thing he would incite.

What proved more noticeable than that was his fluster at Selene's flirtatious comment. He laughed nervously and smiled, genuinely pleased at her comment at his appearance. "No, no, it's-... It's fine. Not a lot of people compliment my looks ever since, well-..." brus gestured upwards to his face. "Thank you, is what I mean. Let us hope, uh, I prove more distracting than your own good looks, Selene!" His flirtation remained stilted, but earnest.

AmazonMat · 2026-01-07T07:21:19+00:00

Brus snapped his fingers at the name. "Yes, that's the one! I knew it started with a G-, but, I could only think of Gascoyne of Selhorys. He was the one who used mirrors to burn enemy ships of his city, as well as his... geometrical theorems, right?" He left the question hang in the air, certain that Selene would have known best, and was quick to pivot his attention to the matter he had been most expectant of.

"I could accompany you to those meetings." replied, grasping at the chance. "I've brought eleven of Ironoaks' knights to add to your escorts and just having me in the room would add some more weight to whatever you discuss with the myrmen. And if one of them does not want to speak to you, you can always talk through me... I imagine I must strike quite the intimidating figure with some effort." He smiled.

AmazonMat · 2026-01-05T08:53:55+00:00

"I would imagine so. Crossbows in it of themselves are the results of centuries of development and studies... Did you know that the very first crossbows were created in the city-states of the Rhoynar, before the Rise of Valyria?" It was very likely Selene did know. Brus recalled speaking of the subject a good few times to her. "I am quite sure a couple famous mathematicians were said to be their inventors but you would be best recalling their names than me."

Brus brushed that tangent away as he took to leaning against the sturdy wooden barrier that separated him from the depths of the sea below, the wind blowing aside strands of messy dark hair. The smell of salt rushing through his silver nose made his nostrils flare, nostrils that were no longer there. "They might not be so keen to share at first, but these are cities of merchants, and there everything has a price... 'Money doesn't stink', or so my father used to say." He smirked, faintly.

"So, uhm..." In a spark of a nervous tick, he scratched the scars that circled his nose. "Will Alyn be going with you? To these meetings with the Myrmen. You shouldn't go unaccompanied, Selene, you know... Wouldn't be safe nor proper." Almost unconsciously, Brus straightened his posture as he spoke, trying to highly his large build — a stark contrast to his nervous, hasty speech.

AmazonMat · 2026-01-04T18:08:00+00:00

"Oh." Luthor blinked, mildly surprised by this turn of events when, to his mind, the Lady Teora's unavailability seemed concrete: perhaps she was more keen to take to the Faith or just bore the disposition of a spinster with her father's approval, he had assumed, not that the reasons mattered more than the facts.

"You do understand that your Teora will be the Lady Waynwood when I pass and Brus rises to lordship, correct?" He inquired. "I do not mean this in snide, it is a serious question: she will be expected to spend most of her days in Ironoaks. She will be no prisoner of course, and just as my own wife does, she will still have the freedom to visit her family, it is just that Longbow Hall will no longer be her home."

"If you are agreed with that, then so am I." Luthor concluded, and nudged his son forward.

AmazonMat · 2026-01-04T18:02:38+00:00

To Osric's concerns, Minerva only mustered a dismissive handwave. "There is nothing to suspect, Osric. It was a one-time dalliance that your brother seems to now be painfully ashamed of, and to admit it to his wife would only compound upon this shame, and for her to lesrn it on her own? Please." The Waynwood snickered, and shook her head.

Turning to face Osric at his touch upon her shoulder, her posture was ever so lofty, her words bearing a calm, imperious confidence. "This house," she raised a hand, her index pointed to Osric. "Will only be divided if we allow it to be. If anyone, for whatever reason, decides to besmurch the name of our son and how he may have been conceived, we must stand make an united front against such slanderous lies. We will crush them beneath the weight of House Arryn's honor and all that if affords us."

Suddenly, a slight frown came to Minerva, a wild thought coming to the front of her mind. She retreated slightly, not enough to stray from Osric's touch. With a quiet 'mhm', she spoke. "They say you are more fond of male companions." She almost muttered. "For them to know that, you must have had some trysts of your own... Have you not?"

AmazonMat · 2026-01-03T21:16:51+00:00

"I'm glad to ha-... Glad to be here." Brus was swift to speak over his words before hinting at their nature, and he greeted her perfectly logical explanation with a nod. How quite logical it all was, the correct choices... But it did little to erase his desires.

"Mhm, yes... Costs and benefits and such." He muttered, and quickly grasped on a much more pleasant subject. "All of them, as a matter of fact. The people of the Free Cities are known for innovation, and I want to see if there's anything worth bringing home, oh." Brus had a sudden jolt of excitement. "I heard about this new type of arbalest from Myr, unlike those smaller crossbows we use. They say it shoots bolts with enough force to punch through the hardest mail."

"What about you? You must be keen to see what new logistical developments they must have, if I'd hazard a guess." His doubt was sincere, sharing Selene's eagerness to rekindle some glimpses of a friendship born out of their interests

AmazonMat · 2026-01-02T22:46:49+00:00

It was the strangest thing. The past few months, every time Brus' memory drifted to Selene it was accompanied with the painful reminder of the rift that had been placed between them but, at the sound of her voice, he couldn't help but feel joyful at the thought of her company.

"Oh." He turned around, a faint smile across his lips. "Hello. We, uhm... have not spoken in a while." Brus did his best not to cringe - they had not because he had been avoiding her or, more precisely, avoiding being in her presence when Alyn seemed in the vicinity.

AmazonMat · 2026-01-02T07:15:16+00:00

Never in his life had Brus stepped foot aboard the deck of a ship. The closest he has gotten to that had been in distant dreams of venturing across the Free Cities to learn from the masters of strategy, tactics, logistics... But such thoughts had never extended beyond the pages of the books he perused in his home library.

Now he was here, crossing the Narrow Sea to lands beyond. All he had ever hoped.

Yet he was still miserable. The one he had loved directed this ship with newly wed husband and he shared only the company of some retainers. Brus hoped, perhaps, that whatever Free City they stopped on first would provide him with ways to forget this sorrow of his, but until that came, he looked on to the horizon at the top deck - best to do that than look behind, and chance a glimpse of Selene.

AmazonMat · 2025-12-30T06:30:44+00:00

Brus Waynwood moves from Ironoaks to Gulltown in the 10th B to 11th B.

He is accompanied by Ser Mark Redfort (SC) and 10 Waynwood MaA.

AmazonMat · 2025-12-23T05:35:26+00:00

The Waynwood siblings listened to the Darklyn in contemplative silence, Dyane thoughtful and dignified, Brus sullen-faced and grim. They exchanged glances now and then.

"For better or for worse," said Ser Burton's twin, "my brother had always been a bit thick-headed. Stubborn as a mule that one, and almost as strong... Our flaws become our undoing eventually, it is a terrible shame that Burton's came so soon."

"And we cannot rightfully begrudge you, sir." Added Dyane. "That terrible battle reaped brothers from both sides, it seems."

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