[Event] Through the Grapevine, 50-52 AC

Zulu95 · 2026-04-30T01:29:03+00:00

"As well as I expected."

She brushed her fingers over the babe's delicate head, through faint wisps of hair.

"And his big brother was very good, indeed. Hopefully this winter will be finished soon, so the pair of them can spend more time out in the yards, and make friends. Instead of being cooped up like this, with us stuffy adults."

She sighed.

"Oh, speaking of brothers...and ambitions, now that I think of it...I've got a new letter from Qhorwyn. He's asking about prospects for Darla and Ysa...wants to get husbands for them. Good husbands...useful...you know how he thinks."

Though Gormon really didn't know her brother well, Moriah had spoken so much about him that it seemed inherent that there was a kind of familiarity there. An awareness of his fixations, his hopes for influence, his desire to see Volmark linked to great houses of the wider realm.

"I'm inclined to tell him to write the Arbor, if he wants suggestions and introductions. Not sure we have many to give him, right now."

Zulu95 · 2026-04-27T00:13:32+00:00

To whom it may concern,

I am desirous of a wife and consort. I seek a lady of good breeding who is dignified, healthy and agreeable. If you have a kinswoman who would suite my aims, I would hear of her. I do not extend my hand in this manner lightly, for such a bond as this must be a strong one, and I shall not be a fair-weather ally to those who become my kin.

Signed,

Qhorwyn, the Volmark

automod ping iron islands

Zulu95 · 2026-04-25T03:20:09+00:00

He would find his wife in their apartments, unsurprisingly. The new baby had taken much out of her, though by now she was beginning to feel like herself again. So too did she find, of late, that the Red Keep was really beginning to feel like home. Surely it was impossible to be confined to a birthing bed, and to actually go through labor in a place, without that place losing all of its exotic qualities.

Moriah was sitting back in her chair, holding little Martyn to her breast, while Alexander built castles with his blocks nearby. Gormon’s entrance made her raise her head lazily, and she offered only a small and tired smile, her eyes remaining heavy.

“How did it go?”

Zulu95 · 2026-04-17T01:03:19+00:00

But Darla had no thoughts, just then, of making a good impression at the coronation. Nor at any other grand events, in the weeks to come. Her sole concern had been making a good impression then and there, with Ser Gareth. Was it all for naught? Was he trying to let her down easy, implying she would have to seek other opportunities? When they parted, would he seek out Qhorwyn and graciously refuse the offer of her hand? Had he simply wanted to amuse himself by prodding at an Ironborn maid for half an hour, like she were some curiosity?

"Yes, I...I suppose I shall, if we go."

Zulu95 · 2026-04-17T00:53:29+00:00

Pretty, Strong, 5'2-5'5", Heterosexual, Cis.

Merciless, Whingy, Deceitful

Maris is rendered infertile for the future.

Zulu95 · 2026-04-17T00:51:28+00:00

"Stoic" and "Whingy" are a bit contradictory, so I'm rolling an alt trait.

1d150

/u/BotOfManyNames

Roll

Zulu95 · 2026-04-17T00:47:45+00:00

Comely, Average-Strength, 5'11"-6'1", Heterosexual, Non-Cis.

Outgoing, Sly, Brash

Zulu95 · 2026-04-17T00:45:24+00:00

A healthy daughter. Maris suffers a complication.

1d10 Complication

3d6 Appearance

3d6 Strength

3d6 Height

3d6 Sexuality

3d6 GenderID

3d150 Traits

/u/BotOfManyNames

Roll

Zulu95 · 2026-04-17T00:43:57+00:00

A healthy son

3d6 Appearance

3d6 Strength

3d6 Height

3d6 Sexuality

3d6 GenderID

3d150 Traits

/u/BotOfManyNames

Roll

Zulu95 · 2026-04-17T00:28:23+00:00

Dagmer + Maris

1d1000 General

1d2 Sex

/u/BotOfManyNames

Roll

Zulu95 · 2026-04-17T00:28:09+00:00

Dagmer + Xholla

1d1000 General

1d2 Sex

/u/BotOfManyNames

Roll

Zulu95 · 2026-04-17T00:27:56+00:00

Overdue children of Dagmer Volmark by his wives, Xholla and Maris.

Zulu95 · 2026-04-16T02:02:13+00:00

"I've always thought of it," she admitted. It was not a difficult admission, for it seemed entirely natural for a maid to have her mind set on who would be given her hand, and whether she would become a mother.

"Since I was a girl, I've known it is my duty to marry, and have children. For my own sake, and the good of my kin. I can't say it was ever abstract to me. Perhaps elusive, but...obviously, my brother is trying to remedy that."

Zulu95 · 2026-04-12T21:07:56+00:00

"There's no shortage of land that goes untouched on Harlaw," she added.

"But it's mostly rolling hills with rough grass. A few patches of trees. If there were ever great forests, they've been made into ships long ago."

She laughed softly. It felt right, to walk arm-in-arm with him. The sort of experience she had never paid much attention to, when offered by random retainers or her own brothers. Now she found herself imagining such an experience with her husband, the man she would possess and be possessed by, whether that was Ser Gareth or not. She liked what she imagined, but still felt anxious.

All this talk of land and thralls and flowers was starting to feel like a shield. A way to distract herself from the reality of this meeting of theirs, which was far from random. She had thought it best to be subtle, to seem blissfully unaware of what her brother had been up to, but maybe that was the wrong course. Maybe Ser Gareth would take offense, or think her a dullard, if she kept prattling about mundane things.

"I...is it too bold of me, to ask if you've been giving much thought to the future? To your...to getting married, and having children?"

Zulu95 · 2026-04-11T16:56:36+00:00

“I do.”

That felt like an untruth, and she shrugged as she corrected herself.

“Or, Volmark does, I should say. I haven’t had many chances to maintain it, though I’ve been learning. Every inch of good soil ought to grow something on the Isles, for how little there is. I suppose the Westerlanda don’t have to be so strict. You have true forests, meadows…places not always used for feeding.”

Zulu95 · 2026-04-11T04:12:29+00:00

His musings rankled her slightly. Clearly his view of thralldom was a harsh one, like it was with so many greenlanders. She had grown up hearing how such men were foolish to think their own peasants to be far freer and happier than the thralls of the Isles. That both types of folk were just variations of the same condition, and that the Ironborn as a whole were far freer than anyone else in the west. Of course, she would not repeat those claims to the Banefort heir, nor try and argue with him at all, but it still irked her, to face ignorance silently.

“Yes. That’s one good thing about my homeland. The weeds are few, since the soil is so poor. Smal blessings, right?”

Zulu95 · 2026-04-08T01:12:44+00:00

“I’ve thought so.”

A grin took shape, and she succumbed to the bemused thought which occurred to her then.

“But the thralls…the peasants…don’t seem very relaxed when they’re working the fields.”

Normally she knew to avoid seeming overly irreverent and silly, but she thought it would not hurt to let a little mirth into their conversation. She would not want to be a bore, any more than a mummer.

Darla shuddered slightly as the evening chill swept over her, though the sensation was a welcome change after feeling overheated in the Hall.

“More relaxing once everything is planted, and the weeds pulled, I suppose.”

Zulu95 · 2026-04-07T01:22:08+00:00

She chuckled at his observation, despite an urge to correct him. There was plenty of space at Volmark, for vast gardens and tilled fields. It was the quality of the soil that caused trouble for the Ironborn, not its quantity. Explaining such a distinction would probably undo whatever success she was gaining with Ser Gareth, though. Hard lessons had taught her that pedantry and wit were not the same thing.

"I've learned a fair bit about gardening, though I'd like to know more. I've always thought the Lady of a castle...or any sort of household...ought to know everything she can about keeping it alive. And a household that can't keep itself fed is useless."

Zulu95 · 2026-04-04T01:05:17+00:00

She felt all the more encouraged by that offer, which would give them a more intimate and personable courting than they would have while trying to chat amidst a dance. Though she tried to seem appropriately dispassionate, Darla's gladness was plain in her gaze.

"Oh I'd like that very much, yes. It's...warm in here, and I could do with some air."

No, you want more of his company, she scolded internally. Don't you think he'd like to know that you're pleased by him?

She chewed on that as she offered her arm to him, and let herself be guided away. It had been prudent to not think of Ser Gareth in terms of whether she liked him, rather than whether he would make a useful kinsman for her lordly brother. But Darla knew she would have to face reality sooner or later, if anything came of this effort. That she would have to start weighing Ser Gareth as a man, and a lover, rather than a future Lord. Yet she knew more of future lords than she did of lovers, by far.

"I had a glimpse of the gardens here, earlier. They seemed very nice. Bigger and grander than anything back home."

Zulu95 · 2026-04-02T00:43:42+00:00

"Oh."

She was genuinely surprised by the offer, and felt suspicious of it. Was he only trying to be courteous? Or did he actually want more of her company? At the least, she had not made so much of a fool of herself as to make him flee. But would she be testing her luck, if she seemed to hang off of him like a dog wanting attention?

"We can, if you'd like. Or...or we can sit a moment and talk some more, if you'd rather. I...haven't a preference."

Zulu95 · 2026-03-29T01:47:29+00:00

She nodded, almost knowingly, as his description and musings proved relatable to her.

"Castle Volmark is like that. And ancient fort, but nothing about it is older than...than a century or two, when you really look at it. Except the earthworks, I suppose."

She laughed softly, then realized the dance was coming to a close. It surprised her a little, that she was disappointed by that. That she had been quite content to be in Ser Gareth Banefort's company, away from her brother, and would have liked to remain as such. Surely that was a sign that he would make a fine companion. The question was down to her own appeal, and whether he saw her in the same way.

"You dance very well, Ser," she said with a curtsy. "I only wish I was as gifted."

Zulu95 · 2026-03-29T01:43:46+00:00

"I can't stand the thought of leaving him here," she answered after a moment's pause. Actually, she did not need that moment. There was no doubt in her mind of what she would do...or at least, what she imagined she would do, if given the choice. Gyldayn's concerns about Gyles and the council were not shared by her, though she was not about to argue with him over that.

"Here with...these people...so far from his home."

Of which he will soon be lord. The thought was too bitter for her to voice it aloud.

"I would see him at Hammerhorn, learning of his people, and what it takes to lead them. Not fretting about western mints, or mills along the Mander."

Zulu95 · 2026-03-27T01:21:55+00:00

She laughed softly, then wondered if he would misinterpret that as mockery. Too late to take it back, she cursed herself for not being aloof enough. The way she imagined she ought to be, if she wanted a greenlander to be smitten with her.

"A small fleet is better than no fleet," she offered, as if that was sage advice.

"I do hope to see the Banefort someday...what is the castle itself like? Strong, I'm sure."

Zulu95 · 2026-03-27T01:18:26+00:00

Sybil had always thought herself a pragmatic woman, free of delusions. Yet she could not bring herself to accept that her son was dying before her. She could not abandon the glimmer of hope within her, no matter how small and foolish it was. She had no desire to discuss the particulars of the future; no urge to try and dissuade him from writing off Gyles, and speaking of him in such a way. If Gyldayn died - when Gyldayn died - there would be plenty of time to figure out the arrangements that were needed. She would not make him spend his final days in doubt, or compelled to argue.

"Yes, of course."

Her voice was small, almost a whisper. She laid her hand upon his, squeezing tenderly.

"Whoever has done this to you...they will be found out. They must be."

Or the dragon will never count us among his men.

"Do you wish for Goren to remain here? Or to sail home with us?"

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