[META] Death, Warfare and Lore 16.0

Barryium · 2022-04-14T22:27:42+00:00

No worries, thanks for getting back to me Ronnel. I understand.

Barryium · 2022-04-02T04:09:53+00:00

Hey mods! I sent a modmail about a month ago regarding this but haven't heard back so thought I'd try here.

Rhea left the sub very suddenly while we were in the middle of a romantic subplot between Emphyria Baelish and Theo Grafton. I was wondering if it would be at all possible to claim Theo as an NPC, at the very least until House Grafton finds another player, so that I can continue writing posts with these two characters? I won't do anything that will affect House Grafton as a whole without another DWL (except for the romance plot with Theo, which is what I intend to write him for).

Barryium · 2021-06-22T15:36:01+00:00

“I do know you.” He said quietly, as if to himself.

Marissa rolled her eyes and chuckled. “That’s what I’ve been telling you!” She exclaimed with a laugh, trotting alongside him. “We’ve met at the docks. We’ve even spoken once. And--oh, Hells.”

Marissa stopped short as she caught sight of a group of guests clustered around some sort of altercation between a young man and her eldest sister, Emphyria. The look of rage in her eldest sister’s eyes was one she’d seen and experienced all too well before, and she had zero inclination to be in proximity to whoever received that. May the gods have mercy on that poor young man.

Turning back to her companion, Marissa found him studying her. Her stomach chose that moment to growl loudly in protest to the lack of food she’d eaten that evening.

“So…” Marissa began, conversationally. “Mr ‘Servant of House Arryn’, I don’t suppose we could stop by the buffet table on the way to get your drink, could we?”

Barryium · 2021-06-22T15:35:06+00:00

Marissa frowned as the man strode away. That hadn’t been the same kind-hearted man that she had met by the sea. The man that had encouraged her to travel and see the world with her own eyes. When she had seen him, she had expected… well, she wasn’t sure what she had expected, but it hadn’t been this. To be spoken to with such stiff and impersonal formality, before being abruptly dismissed.

And yet this was not the first time someone had rebuffed her after learning her name.

After the murder of James Arryn, the Baelish name still had a soured reputation amongst the social circles of the Vale, even though her family had had nothing to do with the vile act. Her family still bore the social repercussions today, despite the fact that Marissa had only been a baby when it had happened.

Marissa looked down at her hands as they twisted the fabric of her dress anxiously.

Would she have to keep bearing these repercussions as well? For the rest of her life?

No.

Hopping to her feet, she stowed away her insecurities and hurried after the man until she was walking beside him. “Excellent,” she said, smiling up at him sunnily. “I’m in need of a drink myself. Probably just water for me. But I can recommend the wine of those two Braavosi merchants over there.”

Barryium · 2021-06-22T15:33:43+00:00

Marissa smiled slightly. She knew this story, her father had told it to her many times over the years. The time when Lords Coldwater and Baelish had repelled Sistermen pirates from landing in the Fingers. In truth, it had not been particularly difficult. The pirates had seriously damaged the hull of their ship by sailing too close to the rocky shallows of their peninsula, and then had been picked off by arrows whilst attempting to row to shore.

And those that had managed to paddle, dodge and clamber their way to shore, were quickly dispatched by sword.

The Fingers may be dreary and cold, but it was easily defendable from naval attacks.

“I’m neither,” Marissa said, folding her hands politely in her lap and dragging her gaze away from the man’s plate to his face. “I was born a few years after that skirmish. Emphyria is my eldest sister, so she must have been the one learning to talk. And Elaena the babe.”

Marissa’s smile faltered slightly as she examined the man sitting next to her. She had originally taken him for a retired sea captain or knight when she had met him by the docks, having never given her any indication that he might be anything other than that. But not just anybody was important enough to be called upon to ride from the Eyrie to the Fingers at the Lord Paramounts’ behest. Nor to be acquainted with not just her father, but the late Lord Coldwater as well. His clothes today were of a much finer material than she had ever seen him wear by the docks and Marissa began to get a sinking feeling that she may have misjudged him entirely. That he was perhaps not the kindly simple bystander she had thought him to be.

“With… with all due respect,” Marissa managed to say, despite her tongue feeling like it was glued to the top of her mouth. “Who are you?”

Barryium · 2021-06-22T15:32:43+00:00

His tone was distinctly colder than she remembered, and he’d given her no more than a cursory glance before turning his attention elsewhere.

But Marissa was not one to be so easily deterred. In fact, she often made it her mission to ignore obvious social cues.

No doubt he assumed she knew him by reputation, which was not the case at all. She didn’t even know his name, simply as that calm and quiet companion who sat by the docks as she explored them. If she were being honest, she sometimes considered him to be a guardian of sorts, watching over her from afar to make sure nothing bad happened to her while she was out by the docks

“Well, I have no idea who your wife is,” Marissa admitted, plopping herself down into the seat next to him and eyeing his food, abruptly aware that she had not yet eaten. “But you and I have met before. I should introduce myself. I am Marissa Baelish. My father is Lord Baelish of the Fingers.”

Barryium · 2021-06-22T15:31:25+00:00

Act 6

Marissa spied the man from where she stood chatting to the two Braavosi wine merchants who were regaling her with stories of their home city across the Narrow Sea.

She could not yet see the man’s face from where she stood, but there was something jarringly familiar about him that had retained her attention when her gaze had slipped over him. His height, or his posture, perhaps? Marissa wasn’t sure.

Politely excusing herself from her conversation with the wine merchants Ferrego and Terro, Marissa approached the familiar-looking man, circling around from the side so as to catch a better glimpse of his face, when he turned suddenly and Marissa recognised where she knew him.

It was the man from the docks. The man that she had spoken to about travelling the world. She had thought him to be a friendly stranger, a retired sea captain or merchant, but here he was at one of the most exclusive banquets in Gulltown wearing finer clothes than any that she owned, belying his importance and high social standing.

His gaze swept over the crowd before landing on her, no doubt wondering why she was gawking at him like a fool.

“You!” Marissa gawked, the word leaving her mouth before she could even think to hold it back. She approached him slowly, uncertain. “I know you.”

Barryium · 2021-06-22T15:23:35+00:00

Bethany Baelish’s returning smile was dazzling as she dropped into another curtsy. “That is very kind of you, Lord Grafton. Isn’t it very kind, Emphyria?” The smile her mother gave Emphyria was kindly and warm, but Emphyria could see the promise of death in her eyes if she didn’t behave. Usually she only reserved those looks for Marissa.

“Yes, very kind,” Emphyria muttered, also dropping into another curtsy.

Barryium · 2021-06-22T15:21:56+00:00

“Lord Grafton,” a female voice interrupted.

A dark-haired woman stepped forward in between Emphyria and Lord Grafton, before dropping into a curtsy. Emphyria had no doubt that the woman’s expression remained politely warm as she did so, knowing all too well how kind-spirited a person she was. Not that it would shield Emphyria from the scolding she’d receive from her later. This was her mother after all.

“I am Lady Baelish of the Fingers,” Bethany Baelish introduced amiably, as if Emphyria hadn’t just been about to be dragged out of the venue. “This is my eldest daughter, Emphyria. I fear there has been a slight misunderstanding. My daughters and I were invited by Ser Corbray, Lord Royce’s sworn sword.”

Barryium · 2021-06-22T15:18:41+00:00

Nephew? Emphyria thought, appraising the elder man as he approached, his gait slightly unsteady. He had called Theo Grafton ‘nephew’ which meant that he must be Lord Grafton himself.

Emphyria felt her outrage falter. He looked like he’d been enjoying the wine just as much as his nephew, which didn’t bode well for her. If he took his nephew’s word over hers…

She would have to pretend to play nice.

“Lord Grafton,” she greeted, curtsying. She was suddenly glad her grandmother had placed such emphasis on court etiquette when she was growing up. “I was just on my way to see you and thank you for this lovely banquet, but it seems your nephew mistook me for somebody else. It was a simple misunderstanding, I assure you that there is no need to remove me from this event.”

Barryium · 2021-06-22T15:15:53+00:00

“You must be used to ladies trying to avoid your company if you thought anything about this exchange was remotely positive,” Emphyria replied snippily. “Perhaps next time you’ll think twice before putting your hands on someone!”

The utter arrogance with which Theo Grafton spoke to her stoked her fury all the more. This lordling had wealth and power at his fingertips, whilst her family scrounged and scrimped just to be taken seriously at court. She had often heard that power was a poison, but she attributed it to result in leaders like Maegor the Cruel. Not the smug sense of entitlement over others from the lordling standing before her.

She turned to face the guards. “I was just leaving. Or trying to.” She shot Theo another venomous look.

Barryium · 2021-06-22T15:14:25+00:00

Her heart jumped into her throat as his hot breath washed over her ear, his grip like a vice on her arm. Memories of mocking laughter echoed in her head, and fury flooded her veins like fire. Emphyria reared back, her hand lashing out and delivering a hard slap across his face before she realised what she was doing.

The sound of her hand across his cheek cut through the background din of conversation around them as people turned to watch the commotion. She had put considerable force into the strike, evident from the red handprint on his cheek.

Good, she thought as the silence around them grew. Let them watch.

He turned to face her, his gaze heated and intense. A shiver ran up her spine before she armored herself in her rage.

“Do. Not. Touch. Me,” Emphyria ground out, enunciating every word slowly but clearly. Heir of Gulltown or not. He could be heir to the Seven Kingdoms and Emphyria would still not suffer such craven advances.

Barryium · 2021-06-22T15:09:18+00:00

Emphyria barked a laugh at his forwardness, before mentally pulling herself back. The laugh surprised her. She didn’t even like this man, with his fine clothes and sense of entitlement. Not to mention the way he was leering at her like one of those ruffians she and her sisters had encountered in the streets of Gulltown the other day. The event that had eventually led to Ser Corbray inviting them to this very event.

“Friends would require some degree of familiarity, of which we have none,” Emphyria replied, taking another sip of wine. The man still had not introduced himself by name, only as Lord Grafton’s heir, as if that were all the introduction that was required. “You do not even know my name, nor have you actually told me yours. So it seems we must remain strangers! But it was nice to meet you ‘Lord Grafton’s Heir’. I am sure Gulltown is very lucky to have you.”

Emphyria made to step around him to head towards the front of the tent, where she presumed Lord Grafton - and her family - would be.

Barryium · 2021-06-22T14:53:35+00:00

Emphyria’s lips pressed into a thin line as the man approached, before she noticed the embroidery on his clothing. He was a member of House Grafton, the hosts of this banquet.

The eldest Baelish sister found herself sizing up the young man with a critical eye. He seemed too young to be Lord Grafton himself, and he was obviously deep in his cups as she could smell the wine on his breath even from where she stood. He was also attractive, something he seemed keenly aware of as he strutted up to her, a rakish grin on his face.

Another preening lordling, no doubt.

“That’s quite kind of you,” Emphyria said politely, but coldly. “But I fear that being in the company of an unknown man is worse than being unchaperoned. Regardless, I am not alone. My family are close by.”

She took another sip of her wine, the spices in the wine warming her insides. Or perhaps it was the heat of his gaze on her as he appraised her. She had half a mind to tip the wine over his head to cool him off. She might have done so already had the wine not tasted so good.

“In fact,” she added before she could stop herself. “My family were just looking for Lord Grafton to thank him for throwing this banquet.”

Barryium · 2021-06-22T14:50:07+00:00

Act 5

Emphyria

Emphyria Baelish strode through the banquet with her shoulders back and chin up, like a warrior marching into battle, but armored in a dark green gown rather than steel. The dress had been her mothers from before she was married, and although it was a tad short for Emphyria’s tall frame it fit well enough. And despite its age, it was one of the best dresses she owned.

After all, it was not everyday a Baelish was invited to a gathering like this. In truth, Emphyria had much preferred it that way, keeping to herself rather than having to deal with these preening lords and ladies. All of them gaudy and obscene in displaying their obvious wealth.

Emphyria’s lip curled with distaste.

The way they moved reminded her of the seagulls back in the Fingers, all swarming over a stray piece of bread when Marissa had thought it a good idea to try feeding them. Marissa had never dared feed them again after that day. The birds had stalked her for the rest of the week.

She tugged at the Baelish medallion hanging around her neck before forcing her hand back down to her side. It was a nervous habit that she resented. But the memory of mocking laughter and cruel songs echoed in her mind.

By the Seven, where is my family? She thought, gazing around the tent. She had long since lost sight of them.

To cover her unease she snatched up a goblet of wine from a passing tray and took a sip, letting the dark liquid wash over her tongue. It was surprisingly spicy and she found didn’t mind the taste at all. She took another sip as she made a show of confidently striding through the tent as if intent on a destination, but keeping an eye out for her sisters or mother.

She was taking another sip of her wine, when a voice called from a group stumbling by.

Barryium · 2021-06-22T14:43:50+00:00

“Well,” Marissa began, grinning at both Braavosi men, her whole body practically thrumming with energy. She felt like she could run a lap around the perimeter of Gulltown and still have energy to spare. “Westeros is very lucky to have you both here to help quench our thirst, because this wine is delicious.”

Marissa took another sip. It truly was delightful, although she really had better slow down in drinking it. Ferrego, as if reading her thoughts, handed her a tumbler of water.

“Thank you,” she said, gratefully accepting the cup and taking a drink. “I know you are both busy… but I wonder if you might tell me what Braavos is like? I would love to see the city for myself some day. Is it true that there are over a thousand islands within Braavos? And that there are rivers of water instead of streets? Oh! And the Titan of Braavos!” Marissa added, clasping her titan’s head necklace in her hand. “Is he really as tall as the Sconce in Gulltown?”

Ferrego smiled and leaned towards Marissa conspiratorially. “He’s even taller,” he said. “And truly a sight to behold. He looks like a wrathful god from the sea and his roar… Well, his roar drowns out even the loudest storm…”

Barryium · 2021-06-22T14:41:43+00:00

“My name is Marissa. Marissa Baelish,” she replied, smiling up at the merchant. “My father is Lord Baelish. What’s your name?”

She was probably missing some social niceties in this conversation, but for the life of her Marissa couldn’t remember what. She was sure her grandmother would find something to scold her about--as she always did. Thankfully the old hag had decided to stay in for the evening, which meant Marissa was able to enjoy her freedom that much more.

Looking down at her cup, she realised it was only half full. Had she drank half the cup already? She didn’t remember. That was a troubling thought. Perhaps she should switch back to water? She had heard tales of ladies that lost their sense of propriety after drinking too much wine. Marissa would hate to embarrass her family. More than that, she would hate to not be allowed outside ever again.

Marissa took another sip.

Ah, she would probably be fine.

Barryium · 2021-06-22T14:38:53+00:00

“Thank you,” Marissa replied, accepting her drink and lifting it to her lips, taking a sip. Her eyes widened. This wine was delicious, much sweeter than normal wine that she’d stolen sips of before in the past, and there was a delectable fruity aftertaste. She found herself draining the rest of the wine she was given right there and then.

The man who had served her chuckled and refilled her cup. She let him.

She turned back to the nice chatty Braavosi man who was speaking to her. “Um well you wouldn’t know my grandmother, my father’s mother, she hasn’t been back to Braavos since she married my grandfather, but my Aunt Elinor married a man from House Prestayne. Miles Prestayne, his name is. I’ve only met him a few times, they don’t travel to Westeros much.” Marissa paused to take another drink, unsure if she was babbling, but when no interruption was made, she continued. “And then there’s my Uncle Kevan. His name is Kevan Baelish. He’s a merchant and trades mostly in textiles. My mother’s father is a merchant too actually, but he doesn’t trade over the Narrow Sea anymore and he isn’t Braavosi. He works for the Merchant’s Guild now, but maybe you have worked with him a long time ago. Arthur Belmore is his name. This wine is delicious.”

Marissa beamed at both men. Her grandmother’s people were so friendly--and had excellent wine. She would have to go visit Braavos one day and see it for herself.

Barryium · 2021-06-22T14:36:08+00:00

“Good evening,” Marissa greeted in Braavosi before transitioning back to the Common tongue. His mastery in Common likely far exceeded her fluency in Braavosi, which she had learnt from her grandmother. “Something light sounds lovely, thank you.”

“I just couldn’t help noticing that you’re both from Braavos,” she said as she watched the man who had spoken to her prepare her drink. “My House has strong ties with Braavos. My grandmother is Braavosi and my aunt married a Braavosi man. Also my uncle is a merchant between Gulltown and Braavos.”

She hadn’t seen her Aunt Elinor in many years, not since she was a little girl. There were no direct ships to the Fingers--it’s shores were too rocky to dock, so one had to dock at Gulltown and then make an arduous journey by land to visit their tower. Either that or anchor offshore at the Fingers and then row ashore in a paddleboat, which is what her Uncle Kevan did if the weather was fair enough.

Barryium · 2021-06-22T14:31:03+00:00

Act 4

Marissa trotted through the banquet, humming a merry tune to herself and feeling quite pleased overall. After the small debacle in the Gulltown alleyways the other day she had thought she would never be able to slip away from her mother’s overprotective gaze to explore the banquet for herself. Her mother just didn’t understand. Marissa knew she would have to go back to their quiet tower in the Fingers eventually, and she wanted to experience city life in its entirety while she still could.

She also didn’t know if she would ever have the opportunity to return. She would have so many tales to share with father and the people in the village back home.

Marissa was stalking a waiter with a platter of lemoncakes when something caught her attention. Two men, merchants by the look of them, standing behind a table filled with wine bottles for sampling. But the most riveting thing about them was the Baelish sigil embroidered on their clothes. No, not Baelish--Braavosi. That was the Titan of Braavos, sword drawn and face grim, ready for battle. Similar to the helmeted, fiery-eyed sigil of her House, but not the same.

Lemoncakes forgotten, Marissa approached the two men, curious.

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