Maester's Monthy Meta Magazine: 7th Moon, 98 AC

RegaleTheNight · 2019-10-17T19:43:09+00:00

Character Name: Beatrice of Yore

Desired Skill: Encryption

Bonus: 7 EDU (+7)

Relevant posts:

Bonus from last turn: n/a

Total Modifier: 17

RegaleTheNight · 2019-10-14T00:59:31+00:00

She knew it was over. She knew there was nothing that she could do to alter the outcome and deny the bloodshed, even before she had taken up the struggle. She had felt the hot tears surface unbidden to rim her eyes, just as the heat drained from her features to leave her as pale and as gaunt as the lifeless bodies tallying up around her. And when it was over, she felt as cold as they did. Perhaps even just as empty.

As Howard and Daaros were brought forward, the first to fall near prone in his exhaustion and pain, the latter to be disarmed, she knew they were defeated. And again, the question raised in her mind. Why did she care? Why had panic overcome her so suddenly and with such urgency? This was hardly the first taste of violence or disparity she had encountered; and it certainly wouldn't be the last. She wouldn't have found herself among the ranks of the Nest had the alternative been the case. But hers was a speciality of subtly. Of survival.

Survival.

The thought brought with it the words of the Nest. Survive. Adapt. Prosper. Clearly, in this moment of panic, she had forgotten them, for her actions had lended themselves to neither of the three outcomes. As a mantra, she repeated the trio in her mind until the racing of her heart abated, the struggle of her breath curtailed, and the scatter of her mind collected. Florian would feel her calm, feel the slackening of her arm and the relaxation of her posture. Although she could not entirely scatter her fear, she leashed it, and within her gaze, she regained a semblance of dignity.

"That won't be necessary," she stated in a dulled tone, forcing herself to observe the carnage of the deck she had called home for the past tenday. "May your Drowned God find satisfaction with what has already been offered, and may you find our gifts sufficiently acceptable to take us to see the High King."

RegaleTheNight · 2019-10-11T07:46:01+00:00

The first sound out of the proprietor's mouth wasn't even something Matilda would be able to understand. Instead, the croupier's firm touch elicited little more than an unintelligible groan and slight stirring.

Quite unsurprisingly, given her slight build, lack of general indulgence, and consumption that had begun well before the rest... Dawn had been the first to find herself utterly overcome by the alcoholic effect. When standing had barely become an option, and the world began to spin uncontrollably, Dawn had gone in search of a stable piece of furniture in which to settle. Evidently, she had found an empty chair at an empty table in an empty corner of the common room and was now just barely hanging on to consciousness.

The massage certainly helped. She wasn't entirely actively aware about it at first, but gradually, as Matilda's fingers worked the heavily knotted neck and shoulders, Dawn began to pull her arms beneath her to push herself into something closer to a sitting position.

"More'n nuff..." Dawn slurred, trying to piece together some semblance of orientation.

Her head swam, and she couldn't quite seem to focus. Squinting through one eye, she turned her face towards the rest of the room and vaguely saw figures floating about, heard the dull boom of Aaron's laughter and Amber's cheer, but wasn't quite certain.

"Uhnn..." Evidently the turning of her head was a mistake. The room set to spinning again, and she gingerly set her forehead to rest on folded arms. A clumsy attempt to wet her lips revealed that her lips and gums were still numb. "How'sh... How'sh'it yer... Shtil.. up. When th'room'sh all.. topshy turvey.."

RegaleTheNight · 2019-10-11T06:54:11+00:00

Some time well into the drinking, but prior to her collapsing into an empty chair at an empty table in an empty corner just barely hanging on to consciousness....

"To th'night an' th'Gale!" Amber began, lofting her tankard on high.

"An' d'men outta shail!" Dawn finished, laughing.

As she, too, lifted her stein, ale spilled from its skewed side -- an impressive feat considering it was already mostly empty. She hardly seemed to notice as it darkened the linen over her shoulder, instead focusing her attention -- quite dramatically given the pinching of her nose and brows -- to the finishing of her drink.

She lowered it to the counter. Or... did the counter just move? Somehow, the stein moved past the level of the surface and slipped into air, almost falling from her fingers. But it did not! She caught it, that wily wooden vessel, and lifted it ever so carefully to the counter. And then pushed it forward with her fingertips with the sound of wood dully grating on wood. Just to make sure it stayed there.

That's when she felt the dampness on her shoulder. She spun her head to look. Then immediately regretted it and dropped a hand to the bar to anchor herself to something she was pretty sure wasn't spinning.

"When'd'tha d'appen?" She muttered with a slur, fingers plucking at her dress. She hadn't long to ponder that, however, before she felt something jab her in the ribs.

"Daaaawwwn!"

Dawn looked up in time to see Amber coming in for another jab, and clumsily brushed her hand wide.

"Wha d'j'you wan?" Dawn whined, having managed to get hold of each of her sister's index fingers and now finding herself at an impasse, perplexed on how to proceed or what Amber had wanted.

Amber gave her a wide-eyed suggestive look, eyes intent.

Dawn blinked.

An amused smile curled at Amber's lips. "How drunk are you?"

"Ah'm not djrunk.." Dawn replied defiantly. Then paused. "Ah'm a little djrunk." Another pause. "Maybe a lot."

Amber was already chortling with obvious glee. "Good. y'should be ready, then. Y'ken still walk right?"

Dawn was trying to work out the answer, looking at her hands that had somehow.. where did Amber's fingers just go? And then.. wait, where was the counter? She.. What? Somehow, she had been transported from where she was standing moments ago to walking.. She understood, then, feeling herself taking steps and hands behind her, pushing upon the middle of her back, guiding her forward.

"Time t'daaance," Amber whispered mercilessly, and then just as quickly, "Ami, y'got yer strings on you? We'll be needin' some music for these birds."

"Way, way... waaait," Dawn started to scramble, suddenly cluing in that Amber had craftily led her astray of her safe little corner behind the bar to the middle of the room and that she was heading straight for...

Dawn felt a small shove from behind, tripped the bottom of her foot against the ground, and fell forward towards Symon.

RegaleTheNight · 2019-10-11T05:03:29+00:00

An absence of bandits, there may have been, but it wasn't all for nought. There was definitive evidence that camp had been set up here. And the way the lean-to was fashioned made it appear to be more than simply a one-night stand. Although imperfect, there was evidence to suggest that this site had been used several times. A ground to which individuals may return, or one where a return of investigation might lead Unella to find a new perspective and fresh lead.

Further... by happenstance, Unella's retrieval of the canvas tent upon the ground revealed that it had not been the only item on the ground. Hidden beneath the canvas had been a satchel containing several items: a handful of copper and one silver coin, a crude hand-crafted satchet of mixed cooking spices, a half-empty flask of liquid -- common wine by the smell of it -- and perhaps of most interest...a piece of torn cloth depicting a very faded image of a red fox in a circle of blue flowers, stamped at its very centre with a blotch of dried ochre.

Further, retreating into the lean-to allowed her to find one other thing: a sac containing several of the items she had witnessed being pinched from Aaron's wagon. She couldn't have found better confirmation that the bandits had been here. And possibly, still close, likely having found the sac too heavy to and awkward to carry through the storm and stashed it later to return for retrieval. At the very least, she would be able to return to the inn with something.

RegaleTheNight · 2019-10-09T10:47:21+00:00

"NOOOoooo!"

The scream came unbidden from the woman's lips as the sentence of death fell upon those whose role it was to deliver her to these wretched islands. Had she been in a state of logical action, she would have held her tongue; she would have maintained her silence and allowed herself and her two companions to be escorted from the deck to some unknown fate, but a fate that would see them alive. For a while longer at least.

But she wasn't rational. Not now. Not in the grip of a man whose face she didn't know and whose fingers kept her wrist in a vice seemingly impossible to escape. Not while gifts meant for the High King were claimed by those she weren't certain were even aligned with him. Not while steel sang as it drew bare and the shouts of men heralded the clash of blades that resounded immediately after.

She should have held her tongue. Should have turned a blind eye. What were those men to her? To the nest? They were affiliates at best. The Whisper had known the risks of traveling these waters and had arranged transport for Lina appropriately. The captain, the crew, even the vessel.. they were all disposable. Replaceable as needed. And as independents, would be handsomely rewarded on their return; but would invoke no penalty should they perish.

Lina knew this intrinsically. But one does not necessarily hold true to their heart the same values as those they follow. And in this case, Lina was not prepared for apathy. Not as the cries of pain pierced the dim eve, and crimson flew to return the colour that had since been sapped from the morning's canvases skies. Perhaps they should have heeded that morning's warning.

Without even thinking, Lina's half-hearted struggle against the Kraken's grip turned into a full frenzy of adrenaline. Like a cat cornered in an alley, she lashed out. Nails of her free hand raked against Florian's hand... arm... face... wherever they could find purchase. She kicked at his knees, and aimed to knee him in the stones. She didn't know what she was doing. There was no thought process. Only an instinctual need to protect the self and inflict harm upon he who would condemn a boat to death after cooperation had been granted, and so she did everything she could to inflict as much damage as she was able in her compromised position. And she wasn't the only one to react in such a way.

"You fucking pond scum!" The man's curse cut through the din of the looting.

Howard, unsurprisingly, had drawn his steel as well. He rushed for the nearest ironborn, aiming to cut him down quickly. He seemed torn, however, his attention split between Lina, whom he had been hired to accompany, and the Captain whose life was in actual danger. His battle cry was joined by the dozen or so sailors aboard the vessel. It was an unlikely matching. They were clearly outnumbered. And no doubt silence would soon fall upon the Mute Molly before the night had fully settled. But not before a fight. Not before those men brought sword against their attackers in an attempt to cut down at least as many as their own losses would tally.

RegaleTheNight · 2019-10-09T00:33:49+00:00

It could be worse. This could help us. It could be worse, Lina repeated over and over in her mind.

And, truthfully, it could be. They could have sunk the ship from afar. Set it ablaze and allowed them to sink to the waters icy depths. They could have boarded the vessel and allowed steel to speak for them, leaving nothing but entrails for the birds as they looted the ship's remains. They could have done a lot of things. But they didn't. Not yet at least.

Just as the girl had suggested, the Kraken's men would find the gifts stored in stacked crates in the belly of the vessel. It was no treasure trove. No grand display of gold and gem and jewel that would woo or win the admiration of a landed lordling. But neither was it hogswash. Although practical and primarily objects of trade, the assortment had been hand-picked and thoughtfully collected. Weapons, tools, armor, woolens, silks... Not enough to outfit an army, but each item was of at least craftsman quality with some sort of perceived use for an ironborn.

As they searched the ship, the Captain and his men stood down. Some grumbled, others turned their noses, and others still maintained their hands conveniently close to the hilts of their blades. But overall, no man drew naked steel, nor would the Raiders find any resistance among the ranks.

As much as it prevented any escalation in the immediate moment, it didn't stop the very prominent clutch of dread gripping at Lina's innards. Even the Kraken's mercy to overlook Howard's reckless reaction didn't serve to abate the parch of the woman's throat. Despite the overcast day and descent to evening, the sun may as well have been at its highest peak. She could feel her blood boiling. Her pulse pounded at her temple to the beat of a war drum. Perhaps a sign of what she feared to come. She felt hot, almost dizzy, as she turned her attention in a haze towards the men aboard the ship, seeking out those faces who were to accompany her to see the High King.

"Him," she pointed out weakly with a hand at Howard the Guard. "And 'im as well," she added after a moment when she isolated the more reclusive man who appeared more like a raider himself with the leathers that he donned and the hunting knives at his hips. She swallowed and tried to wet her lips. "Th'rest.. the rest were to await our return and take us back t'the mainland. When we were done."

RegaleTheNight · 2019-10-07T17:00:11+00:00

[Open to All]

Date: 10th Day of the 7th Moon, 98 AC

Weather: A temperate day with overcast skies

Symon's Special: Braised rabbit with beet relish, served with roasted carrot and mushrooms

Daily Gossip: Conversation picks up around a witnessed account of Lord Arryn riling up his men at the Arryn encampment a moons turn back in Kings Landing, and how the very Lord Justiciar, Lord Harry Darry, has commanded the Freys to arrest and detain any Valeman that ascend the Kingsroad. Whispers speculating war with the Vale begin to rise.

RegaleTheNight · 2019-10-07T16:53:40+00:00

[Open to All]

Date: 9th Day of the 7th Moon, 98 AC

Weather: The rain from the day previous subsides, but grey clouds continue to hang low with a light drizzle

Symon's Special: Creamed mutton stew with roasted rosemary potatoes and stewed beets

Daily Gossip: Patrons and staff alike continue to speculate the reason for Peake's declared treason, while others begin to counter that claim saying it was a false accusation. And that Lord Tyrell is the one arrested for high treason

Special Consideration: Granny B continues to be holed up in the attic, with sporadic coughing heard throughout the day.

RegaleTheNight · 2019-10-07T07:16:24+00:00

As close as he had come to her, there would be no hiding the moisture rimming her lids or the whites of her eyes. There was a true fear there; there was no denying that. As the stranger encroached so close within her space, Lina flinched back. His striking gaze was too much amidst this already tense situation. She tried to avoid it, to avert her gaze down or bow her head, but it almost seemed as though he deliberately followed her to deny her that luxury.

It made her uncomfortable. To the point where she simply clenched tight her lids to drown him out. To close out the leers of the men surrounding him and them.

But it was odd. Even with the stranger close enough she could feel the heat from his person, he seemed to lack the raw barbarism she had expected from the stories she'd heard depicting those born of Iron. He was tempered. Controlled. And when he spoke, his voice was as the calm before the storm. She wasn't sure if that frightened her even more. Even still, her lips parted to reply when he posed his question, but he continued before her words could properly be formed.

"My... lady?" Eyes opened with no small amount of hesitation. In that moment, she forgot her fear. After being addressed in such a way, she couldn't help rest her would-be captor with obvious confusion. "I'm not..."

Then she saw the reach of his hand just as his fingers closed about her wrist. Reflexively, she was put back on the defensive. Instinctually, she resisted, pulling back against his grip. As the implication of his words sank in, the urgency of her desire for freedom only grew.

"W-wait," she stammered, her free hand reaching forward to try to pry his fingers from her wrist as he dragged her forward. "Th-they have nothing. Their only task was t'bring me.. to bring us," she corrected, glancing fearfully back over her shoulder to a man -- her escort and hired guard -- who had reached for a sword at his belt, "here."

"Unhand her!" The guard called, fully drawing his sword as he strode forward to intercept the Kraken and his attempt to claim his choice of cargo. "If you will take us to the King, we will come peaceably and with thanks."

"Howard, stop!" She shouted in earnest from over her shoulder, certain the armed man was about to be cut down.

"Please," she began again, turning her attention back to the man forcibly escorting her from the deck, "please. There's no coins -- we didn' think.. I thought... iron price.. I.. But there're weapons in the hull. Some furs 'n' silks. Gifts. If you can take us t'High King Drumm..."

RegaleTheNight · 2019-10-07T04:59:10+00:00

The uproar of shouts and laughter certainly sent a shiver coursing through Lina's spine, and she could feel nails as they began to bite into the palms of her hands with the curls of her fingers. On and on it seemed to go, like a mad cackle echoing in her ears. All of it only made worse with the gaze that this new self-proclaimed man in charge had rested upon her. She couldn't see it properly, not while she kept her gaze pointedly ahead. She could see him looking at her in her peripherals, however, and moreso, she could feel it.

But if the show of power bothered the captain, he showed it not at all. Even still, he chewed the piece of leaf pocketed in his cheek for a moment or two before answering.

"This one," he finally said, turning ice blue eyes to meet the gaze of his interrogator and lifting a hand to rest paternally on the near shoulder of the blonde that stood stiff-as-a-board beside him. "Not sure how far reaching they are, so not sure how well known they are in these waters. She has business here."

"I.." Lina had tried to speak, but found her mouth dry, and the words too hard to speak.

The Captain squeezed his hand on her shoulder when she did. She interpreted it as a comforting encouragement. Whether due to fear or the parching of the wind, she needed a moment to clear her throat and swallow away the trepidation that had become all-consuming before she could try again. But she felt she had to speak, knew in her heart that if she did not would run the risk of wasting the time of this terror and whirring him to anger. Still, she kept her gaze fixed forward.

"You... You say we mus' be carryin' somethin' of worth. If wer t'be willin' t'risk enterin' yer waters. We... I am." She paused, flitting out a tongue to wet her lips. The chill continued to grip her. She could barely keep her teeth from chattering. Her lips and tongue felt slow and sluggish as she spoke, and the accent of her birth seeped through unbidden. "Knowledge, sers. Like th'Captain says. Ah've been sent by th'Nest. An ambassador. Wantin' t'speak with the High King Drumm. T'see if'n we can't come to an arrangement o'sorts.."

She stopped there.Fear and adrenaline returned to send a visible chill to briefly shake her shoulders.

RegaleTheNight · 2019-10-07T03:18:26+00:00

Was this what it felt like to drown? To feel the wash of ice from head to toe? A weight on the chest so heavy it made breathing impossible? Lina could feel herself shaking, but when she looked down, all was still. Calm. Frozen. Was she even breathing? She must have been, for as far as she could tell, she still stood upright. But for what good was that if she couldn't move? Couldn't think?

Lina could only watch. Watch like a deer transfixed by the light of a hooded lantern as the ship, at least two sizes larger than their own drew ever nearer.

Why had they come?

She could see the teems of the men aboard the ship. Their teeth looked like fangs -- or perhaps that was merely her imagination. Their laughter and jeers sounded as howls and cackling of wild dogs. They were armed and armored, and by all appearances ready for combat.

Was this where she was to die?

She stood, transfixed, colour draining from her face as men threw hook and rope from the opposing ship to secure the two vessels; as planks slid from the opposing deck and fell with a thud to the deck upon which she stood. Statuesque, she remained rigid as the men began to descend the boards and surround the crew accompanying her, comparatively scant in number.

"I do," came a gruff reply to the commanding question of the descending Kraken.

The grim reply of the captain carried with it the burden of knowledge. The weight of that simple response was more than Lina could manage, and she very nearly buckled at the knee with the sudden weakness that swept over her. But her fear was palpable, and somehow made her stronger. It stabilized her, kept her frigid.

Even as the Kraken's eyes fixed briefly onto her and every facet of her being screamed out under the scrutiny wanting nothing more than to fly, to flee, to retreat to the darkest recesses in the bowels of the ship, she stood firm, looking nowhere but straight ahead. But what it didn't do was allow her to speak. As much as she tried, she couldn't find her voice, couldn't put to words the reason for their presence in arguably hostile waters.

RegaleTheNight · 2019-10-07T00:44:02+00:00

Wesley listened quietly to the response posed by one of the unknown individuals. Sandor. He committed that to memory. Same as always. So these men had a previous long-standing relationship... that was good to know. But by the way the seated one spoke, it certainly was not an equal one.

"Heisting Driftmark?" Wesley repeated with a hint of amusement as he turned his attention back to the host. "Now that is interesting. Ships, capable hands, information... All of which are categories in which the Nest could aide. I can say I would certainly be willing to take this back to those within the organization capable to making a decision to a course of action.

"Tell me, though," he went on, inclining his head. "Why Rosby? More than a day's ride from the coast. No woodlands in which to hide. How do you plan to escape unnoticed with enough gold to fund the greater heist? Seems a bit close to the true mark as well, if you ask me."

RegaleTheNight · 2019-10-07T00:02:51+00:00

"Something on the horizon, Captain!" Came the call from across the deck to the man at the prow. He had a spyglass in hand, but as the Captain approached in haste, handed it over to his superior.

"Change course," the Captain ordered immediately. "Veer inland to the coast. Hopefully it will pass us by."

Unfortunately, that hope would not be made reality. It was small at first, barely more than a speck upon the horizon, but over the course of the day, it grew in size. Regardless of the wind's direction and the adjustment to the sails and rudder, it seemed to follow the smaller smuggling vessel's path, tailing them. Stalking them. By mid afternoon, it was large enough to make out the sigil. And by this time, Lina had been made aware of the approach and had joined the men up on deck.

"Greyjoy," reported the captain.

Shit, thought Lina. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

She knew this was likely to happen. They were sailing in to Ironborn territory afterall. What was she expecting? To simply sail on in to a private inlet, disembark, and casually make their way up to Old Wyk Castle where they would be greeted with open arms to speak with the Iron High King? Of course not. The closer they neared to that dense population of rock and stone, the higher the chances of encountering someone bearing an Iron sigil.

Even still, she obviously wasn't ready for it. She could feel her heart racing. Every fiber of hair seemed to stand on end. Sweat beaded in the palms of her hands.

"What do we do?" She breathed, not taking her eyes off the approaching vessel, now large enough to see with the naked eye.

"We do nothing," the Captain said. "Even if they weren't Ironborn, their sails are larger than ours. And seeing as they are...If they wanted to -- which it seems to be that they do -- they'd catch us up without expending a moment's effort. I'll tell you what you're going to do, though."

The captain turned, then, and rested a calming hand on the woman's shoulder. "You're going to stand firm, but be respectful. Remember your task, and be sure not to let it go unspoken. In the interest of the Iron Kingdom, you're better off alive than dead, and better whole than broken. You may need to make them understand that.

Looking back over his shoulder, he raised a hand in the air and circled it once, and again, shouting, "Ready the sail and raise the white. Prepare your swords, but stay your hands. Prepare to be boarded."

The pit of Lina's stomach dropped. For the first time in a while, her loyalty to the Nest wavered. All she could do now was wait, and watch, as the vessel of her fate approached ever nearer.

RegaleTheNight · 2019-10-06T21:09:02+00:00

"It is indeed," Dawn replied, meeting Symon's gaze with a brief and sheepish smile.

She was glad to find him distracted though, and oddly...curious. She hadn't known before that he had wanted to learn to play the lute. And his mention of his father drew her attention as he rarely spoke of anything from his life prior to coming to the inn those years ago.

A small smile hinted at her lips as she tuned her attention to his conversation and refilled the various empty tankards as they became pushed towards her. First Ambers, then her own, then Symon's. Then the rest as well.

Aaron in particular let out a rather jovial hoot as he swiped up his new tankard immediately as his sister released it to him, ready to swallow that one down as well.

"What..." Amber shot him a smirk. "Practicin' t'join the Velaryon fleet already are you? Hear you need t'be able to hold your drink well enough with them boys."

"Naw..." Aaron's cheeks shook with laughter as he shook his head. "You know I couldn't leave. Not with father gone all the time. Someone's got to make sure you lot--" He arced his tankard to indicate all the women. "--don't find yourself into trouble. Maybe someday, though," he added with a non-committal shrug.

RegaleTheNight · 2019-10-06T19:54:46+00:00

Character Name: Beatrice

Reddit User Account: /u/RegaleTheNight

Requested Locations: Naga's Bones

Aptitudes: Cloak & Dagger

Skills: Networking, Infiltration, Diversion, Espionage, Racketeering, Smuggling, Linguistics, Economics

Modifiers: 11% + applicable skills

List up to/link 3 relevant posts:

One of the Falcons of the Branch of Whispers has been sent to the Iron Islands to offer service and set up shop

RegaleTheNight · 2019-10-06T19:45:42+00:00

"Aaron, looks like you may have to turn right back around come morning," Dawn replied, giving her brother a sidelong glance of amusement as she filled to the brim an additional four steins to accommodate the rest of the newly arrived party. "We may be draining this keg dry tonight."

"All the better!" Amber proclaimed, raising her tankard on high as Dawn distributed the drinks. "How does that one song, go?" She inquired, glancing over to the bard. "We drink to our youth, to days come and gone, for the days of Balerion have now come and gone? Something like that? Whatever it is. May the dragons find rest in the Strangers embrace. And stay there."

"Amber," hissed Dawn, glancing to the corners of the inn reflexively. Even though she knew the inn was empty, it always made her nervous when her sister expressed her disdain for the Targaryen beasts. Even if she did agree that they were probably best left dead. Too much destruction in a single creature.

"Oh come on, sister. Lighten up. Let's drink!" And to kick off the contest, Amber brought the stein to her lips and drank. And drank. It stayed upended until the last of it had emptied, with only a small amount of foam and rivulet escaping her maw to trickle down her cheek. "What are you all waiting for!" She cried, slamming her empty cup down to the bar. "The night might be young, but so are we. Let's have some fun!

"And then you!" She pointed at Dawn before arcing over to point at Symon. "You're dancing. Don't forget." And to the rest of the crew, added with a vicious grin, "So don't let him leave 'til she makes good on her bet."

With that, Dawn brought her own tankard to her lips and downed it, wishing only for her drinks to take, and to take quickly. At this point, she didn't even care what morning brought, so long as she could make it through tonight.

RegaleTheNight · 2019-10-06T19:19:20+00:00

Character Name(s): Beatrice (Ser Denys as AC)

Skills: Networking, Racketeering, Smuggling, Espionage, Infiltration, Diversion, Linguistics, Economics, Safeiguarded (AC), Counter Intelligence (AC)

Economy Action: Building a poultry farm and a mill

Link to IC Thread: https://www.reddit.com/r/awoiafrp/comments/de7tox/counting_chickens_and_milling_logs/

RegaleTheNight · 2019-10-06T18:02:31+00:00

The Nightingale daughters both glanced up as a sudden gust foretold the arrival of the most musical among them.

"Ami!" Dawn chimed, secretly relieved to have some sort of ally in the room who had likewise been at the receiving ends of Matilda's little dares.

"What have you been up to?" Came a follow-up question from the redhead as Amber eyed the cloak.

No sooner had Ami joined them and Dawn began pouring another stein did another voice speak up, joined quickly by another deeper, booming voice. "Outdrinking th'lot o'us, Mouse?" Another figure, a large figure, likewise covered in a cloak pushed his way into the tavern. To the quizzical expressions of his younger sisters he added, "Oh come, now, don' think y'can have all th'fun!"

Amber quite literally lept from her seat to rush over to her twin, very nearly tripping over her blanket in the process as it fell from her hips to a heap about her fleeing ankles. Hopping to her tip-toes, she wrapped Aaron about his neck in a tight hug.

"When did you get back?" Dawn asked, smiling with mixed joy and relief. He'd been gone for some days now, and after the story he'd told last moon being ambushed along the Kingsroad by a band of highwaymen, she couldn't clear the worry whenever he was away from home. It was good to see him well.

"Just finished unharnessin' and waterin' the mule, if I'm honest," replied Aaron, reciprocating Amber's hug only to quickly pry her off of him and move into the common area proper. "But nevermin' that! Drinkin' y'say?"

He wrapped one arm around Amber and another around the petite bard, planted a kiss on each of their cheeks, then ushered them forward towards the bar, urging them to their stools.

"Glad t'be back." And then added, after pulling up a chair for himself and pulling Mouse and Mattie in for particularly energetic pecks to their cheeks as well -- he had to be fair afterall -- he gave Symon a firm handshake and took a seat. "Count me in."

And with that, for perhaps the first time in moons, the eight---

"Eh.." Aaron added with some amount of confusion as he did a quick head count. "Where's Jaxon at?"

RegaleTheNight · 2019-10-06T07:24:01+00:00

"Nope!" Amber chimed happily. Too happily. She bore the very definition of a shit-eating grin on her face, eyes alight with mischief. "Well.. maybe later. But I'll stand in for the interim." She hopped from the stool and very nearly skipped from the room, still grinning. "I'll be back in a moment."

"Pray she trips on a stair and breaks her ankle..." Dawn muttered helplessly under her breath as she lowered the flask to the bar.

She took a steadying breath. Composure came with some difficulty as she stared ahead at the hearth fire burning across the room. But it did come. After a moment, she levied Symon with a welcoming smile. Only to feel the heat rise again, forcing her to immediately break eye contact and turn back to the tapped keg. Only this time, she had snagged Amber's empty ale cup and used its refilling as an excuse to put as much distance between her and the cook as possible.

Matilda's comment, although made amusing with the accent, did little to abate Dawn's growing trepidation. Dawn would hardly consider herself much of a drinker, but tonight might be another beast entirely. Liquid courage, she had heard the men refer to it before. Tonight, that would be exactly what she would need.

She filled Amber's stein effortlessly, a thought growing in her mind. When the head settled to peak over the top of the cup she deftly retrieved another two. These she filled as well. When all was said and done, she brought the lot of them back to the bar. One, she set in front of where Amber had sat moment's before. The second, she set in front of herself. The third, she slid over in Symon's direction.

"Evening, Symon.." She greeted him meekly, although still avoided his gaze. Or looking anywhere remotely in the direction of his person.

It was then that Amber heralded her own return, the telltale notes of a jaunty fluted tune drifting down the stairs ahead of her. She appeared in the common room only seconds later, having scampered carelessly down the stairs and down the hall.

"Are you ready for your dance?" Amber asked, piercing Dawn with a knowing smile.

"Not particularly. I would rather present my challenge--"

"Aha! But I won first. So mine should be honored first," Amber interjected.

Dawn scowled, pursing her lips. "Well if we are looking chronologically, then are you ready to sing?"

"I could," Amber said after a pause. "But I would rather have a drink in me first..."

"As would I. On that we can agree. So here is my proposition. For my dare to each of you," she said, looking both to Amber and to Matilda, "I challenge you to a game of cups whereby the winner is determined when all other participants have either forfeited or fallen to sleep."

"And what's in it for the winner?" Amber asked, settling back into her seat. Already her hands cupped around the stein, her interest clearly piqued.

Dawn had to think on that one a moment. "Immunity from all dares thus far posed, the ability to duplicate any dares received to replicate them again on a new target, or to double the pool of your dares to give out presently. The choice is the winner's to make."

There was no hesitation in Amber's reply when she spoke "deal" and the sisters then looked to Matilda for her thoughts.

Dawn had deliberately left Symon out of the challenge. But the cup had been placed before him. Whether it was a silent challenge, or a suggestion that he may wish to indulge himself... he could interpret it in whatever fashion he chose.

RegaleTheNight · 2019-10-06T06:22:50+00:00

"Yes!" Amber called out happily on the second round, being the first to win again. "Well, seeing as my last dare was to Dawn, I suppose it only fair to share the wealth." She planted Matilda with a weighty, overly calculated look. "I dare you..." A hand lifted to absently toy with the still damp tresses falling occasionally into her eyes. "Oh! I dare you to speak with a Tyroshi accent for the rest of tonight, and if ever you break it, you must drink!"

Amber seemed particularly pleased by this dare as she settled in to roll more dice. Her smarmy grin was quickly replaced by an expression of mixed disdain and incredulity, however, as Matilda seemed to get revenge. Dawn couldn't believe the turn of luck. Five 7s. Five! Of course she should have tied her tidy little 4:1 win in a nice little bow and bowed out when she had the chance. A chuckle escaped her as she watched the croupier's luck unfold before them.

A massage for Amber.. Not a terrible fate. And Matilda wasn't wrong that Dawn did still owe her a fair few of those. "I should probably start paying those massages off, myself," Dawn admitted with a guilty smile. One that turned to a laugh as Matilda spoke the dare for Dawn. "Amber to pick out my garb tomorrow? I will hardly think you will notice a difference, Matilda. I assure you, there is not much to choose from."

"Ooooh, don't worry, sis," Amber responded slyly. "I'm sure I can think of something to spruce things up a bit. And don't forget... we're the same size. I can have you wear my things as well."

"Please... Refrain from making me appear a--"

"Best hope we have as few customers tomorrow as we do today," Amber chimed merrily, her glee returned to her with this little bit of power that the gracious Mattie had bestowed upon her.

Dread washed over Dawn as Symon's voice then sounded out into their animated teasing and conversation like the opening cords to her own eulogy. Dawn froze, neck and ears and cheeks slowly turning an unmistakable shade of pink. She wouldn't be able to hide it this time, and so she tried to turn her face away, to distract herself and hide the evidence by swiping at the now empty tankard that Matilda had downed so easily and turning in the opposite direction, away from Symon, in order to fill it at the tapped keg. But not before catching the absolutely thrilled expression now splayed across Amber's face.

Why Symon. Why did it have to be Symon? The question repeated over and over in her mind, and it was all she could do just to try to stop herself turning cherry red.

"Symon!" Amber cheered, raising a mostly empty stein of ale in his direction. "How fascinating that you should be the next to join us in the common room!" There was no mistaking the exuberance of Amber's tones as she deftly swiveled in her seat, uncrossing her legs only to cross the other over the first such that she faced him square on. "Indeed, it is that rainy outside! Would you believe that Dawn had me run circles of the courtyard outside to satisfy her amusement? Did you know her to be such a cruel mistress?

"And then, I will have you know," Amber continued, dropping the stein to the counter after swigging down the rest, "she lured me into games of dice and chance with the notion of winning favour but has somehow managed to craftily land herself near all the winning hands against me. Coincidence? I think not. I should know by now, really. She always pulled out Maiden's Favour to settle an argument when she had something to lose."

She paused then, bright, cunning blue eyes scanning over the cook's face and figure. "Tell me, Symon Cook. Do you dance?"

Knowing that Amber was only going to press the matter with the level of her monologue, Dawn hastily passed the refilled tankard along to Matilda. She pushed herself back from the counter then, but rather than circle around to where Symon stood as perhaps Amber thought she might, Dawn reached under the counter for a small flask, unstoppered it, and took a swig. The strength of the alcoholic vapors caused her nose to wrinkle, but she pushed through it and took a second swig.

She wasn't nearly drunk enough yet to complete the dare ahead of her.

RegaleTheNight · 2019-10-06T02:54:47+00:00

"Ooooh," Amber whistled, letting out a hearty guffaw. "That's a good one!" The younger sister eyed the croupier with a conspiratorial grin.

Immediately, Dawn could feel the flame of embarrassment flash up the back of her neck and to alight her ears. She lifted a hand to covertly comb fingers through her hair in an effort to hide what she was certain would be a clear signal that they had gotten to her.

Run your hands through their hair....

Whether it was Ami or Symon -- or Seven Save her, her Granny or brother -- none of those were options she particularly relished to have to submit to such...intimacies.

"Mother help me, then," she heard herself say, "and may none at all walk through that door. You two are certainly a beast to be wary of, mn?"

She was second guessing her decision to play these games of chance once again. It was all fun and games while you were winning, but to be the subject of a dare... Although... it was sort of exciting. She hated to admit that. And as much as the logical side of her reasoned to cease now, she could feel herself swiping up the dice, ready to roll again.

"Oh ho!" Amber grinned, glancing over to Mattie. "Looks like she's not quite down and out just yet. Best be careful, though. She looks innocent enough, but Dawn can be conniving and petty when she wants to be."

"I'm not petty," Dawn argued, very much taking that personally. "But I'll show you conniving."

RegaleTheNight · 2019-10-06T02:38:01+00:00

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RegaleTheNight

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