The Fight For The Cub

[Ameraaaaaa]

"Well as your bodyguard there's nowhere safer then the kings castle. Add on that I'm probably not welcome to the masquerade and I'll just head to a tavern to drink. Stay safe Lord Casyr, Lady Armya and Tommen as well."

[Wymmerdann]

As they made their approach upon the castle and were informed of the events to come, Casyr turned to Tommen, “Uncle, please, though it may seem beneath your rightful station, accompany me as a servant, that you might mix among the other servants and gather information on my behalf. Given our success upon the road, I am of a mind to forge a tighter bond between our house and house Celtigar, but this is a highly speculative endeavour, and should it be doomed to failure, then it will reflect poorly upon my inexperience. Your advice led to our approach upon Lord Ardrian, so I would entrust you with this task if you are willing: discover if House Celtigar is a house worthy of our alliance - a house capable of projecting influence into the crownlands and unburdened by scandals and stigma, and whether it has any suitable heirs approachable for betrothal, or other grounds on which a firm alliance might be secured.However, if you deem such an endeavour beneath your proper station, I will not insist upon it, and you may instead enter within my entourage, befitting the rank of my father’s noble brother.”

Though he would have preferred to mingle amongst the more adventurous lords and their knights in the hunt, Casyr knew he was better suited to the courtly finery of the masquerade. He donned his finest crimson doublet of Myrish silk and fitted two fine rings upon his fingers - one a ruby encrusted ring of silver and the second a simple signet ring set in Valyrian steel - a gift from the Iron throne to his forebear, the first Lord Scales. A silver chain bore stylised iconography of oaken trees, the scales of justice, and dragons in flight, announcing his family’s hereditary as lesser scions of House Targaryen.

To his aunt and mother he gave no instruction- they were more experienced than he at such events and in the intermixing with their noble peers. He was sad to see Ser Baryl leave, but knew both his knight and sellsword protectors were made of rougher stuff than ballroom etiquette would smoothly tolerate. Instead, resplendent in house colours and finery, he made his entrance amidst his highest born retainers and family, doing his best to seem at- ease, comfortable, and sophisticated, though he felt entirely not.

(5d6b4)[21] +2 for status to be noticed.

[Batcathat]

To be perfectly honest – not that Roanne was in the habit of being that – she was close to putting on her peasant garb and mixing with the common folk, if nothing else it was likely to be a lot more fun. But the risk of someone recognizing her was simply too great and she did not look forward to explaining why the Lady Roanne was doing in company like that. It might be excusable for young lords, but rarely for... slightly less young ladies.

Instead, she changed into one of her better dresses and a quite artfully crafted mask in the shape of a lamb's head that covered her entire face and even had woolen "hair" to cover her own. As most of the guests were likely to wear either some heavy-handed reference to their house or something projecting either strength or beauty, Roanne hoped that a lamb would draw little attention. That was the idea, at least.

Spoiler: OOC

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Knowledge (Streetwise): (8d6b6)[29] to chat with the ferrymen.

Deception: (4d6b4)[17] to attempt to remain anonymous at the party.

[Harmony]

Amyra Vaith

A masquerade. She had memories of them from growing up in Dorne, but somehow her memories they were always more classy. Perhaps it was all the mud here in the cold north. Or all the rain. But never the less, she would make her best effort to enjoy it. She certainly was not prepared, but she had enough dresses to make some mystique. The tan of her skin would make it hard to melt in among the pale northerners, but a masquerade was not always about secrecy, it was also about forbidden things. She went through her jewelry, l finding a match to her green dress. Extra care went into choosing the right mix of her perfume. If she could not quite disguise herself, she could disguise her normal perfume, perhaps surprising someone another day. It felt a bit like an exciting and scary to go without an escort. At the very least that was something her late husband had been good at. At least on arrival.

Spoiler: OOC

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Status for recognition: (3d6)[2][1][3](6)

[Leonard Van Rin]

Though he would have advised his young lord to partake in the hunt, he decided to keep his mouth shut. He was following the young lord, a shadow in a way. He was dressed in a black tunic which had a singular silver dragon head embroidered on the height of his heart. It was a gift from a merchant he escorted back during his days in Essos. Beneath it he wore a black dress shirt, this was combined with leather pants, boots and gloves of the same black colour. Of course when going to a masquerade one needs a mask. He as a matter of fact owned one…. Not that it was fancy. It covered only one side of his face, to be precise the half which contained his scar. He got this thing for when he had to deal with people of higher society.

The only thing which likely set him apart from the many guests was the sword at his hip. And well the rather characteristic hair and eye colour. Still it was his job to protect lord Casyr, no matter if it was comfortable for him or not. Thus he silently follows his young lord who in his opinion looked quite well. The signet of valyrian steel especially accented the supposed ancestry of the young lord. Bloodlines are everything in high society. And this was such a case where it indeed would matter.

[Gareth3]

Tommen bows. "I would be honoured to attend the masquerade as your servant, my Lord. I'll find out what I can about House Celtigar." Since the nobles would sooner accept a pig wearing a hat as one of their own than me.
Tommen dresses for the masquerade in finely-made but plain clothes, decorated with a simple silver pin in the shape of an acorn. When the party arrives he neither tries to get attention from the nobles nor tries to hide his identity, but quietly follows Casyr, alert for any opportunities for information.

Spoiler

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Who should I talk to to find out more about House Celtigar? Awareness (2d6)[7]

[Andrethegiant]

At the ferry
The ferrymen seemed preoccupied as they readied their smaller vessels, but seeing the lady Roanne nearby one of them felt the need to defend themselves. At first only general admissions of fault would be offered, but under the steely gaze of Roanne he feels the need to explain himself further. "Sorry m'lady, we had been paid to attend as ships navigated upstreams, but not a day ago a friendly lad, came with missives that there would be alternative arrangements, we were offered real gold for our troubles, and heavy coins at that".
With further prodding he offers a description of the person. A slight man, with a clean-shaven face and kind manners. However the man had a dangerous look to him and carried sword and armour which marked him as a noble. His complexion was a darker hue than most, indicating either much time spent outdoors, or time spent in the sun.


At the Masquerade
An army of servants must have swept through the corridors. The hallways are cleaned meticulously and the fresh smell of washing is in the air. However the clean tiles reveal the cracks in the marble underneath, the cleaning smells can't quite cover the old musty smell that has lingered for decades, and the tapestries along the corridor is an assortment of different styles that have been popular at different times in the last hundred years.

As you come into the grand hall, however all signs of recent abandonment is hidden. The tiles are covered in myrish carpets and dancing feet. The smells are covered by a mixture of smells of flowers and sandalwood coming from the guests. The roof is taller than 4 of Baryl standing on each others shoulders and the hall easily fits the gathered throng. The walls are covered by recently made weavings of dashing tTargaryen princes and stolid Whent knights fighting shoulder to shoulder. For a few moments the hall seems every bit as grandiose as anything the kings court could have offered.

However as a reminder of the decrepit state of the rest of the castle upon the dais sits king Aerys the second of his name, long may he live. Where the targaryens ornamenting the wall have a healthy hue to their pale skin the king is so pale as to be transluctent, only his stunningly clear purple eyes and his yellowed teeth revealed in a rictus grin gives his face any colour. Where the Targaryens on the tapestries are clean shaven the king has a long unkempt beard. The kings nails are like talons, a foot long at least, and his flowing hair has not seen a brush in years. The servants filling his cup and lord Whent to his side both unconciously keeps their distance. Among the masked guests there are plenty a scary mask, but nothing fills the nobles with dread like seeing the unmasked face of the mad king.

Casyr Scales
As soon as you enter a gaggle of courtiers seem keen to make their introduction. For every one politely brushed off another is there to take their place. Your unlikely saviour comes in the form of a tall, masked woman. Her hair is entirely covered as part of her alluring costume, but there is no way to hide the sharp purple eyes that looks out from behind the mask She shears through the gaggle like a sharp knife through the finest of
silk, and she closes just an edge closer than what would be appropriate. By moving so close she creates a bubble in the throng for the two of you. Her rosy smell is not unpleasant. "A young lord with weights on his chain, a brave choice for a secret masquerade" her low voice doesnt carry past you. "Say, my lord, would you consider yourself carefull as well as brave?"

Amyra Vaith
Like Casyr, Amyra finds herself surrounded by admirers. Where the young courtesans flock around Casyr, however, a gaggle of noblewomen wish to congratulate Amyra on her calm presence. A woman larger than most men shoulder her way to the fore and is very keen to learn how you dared take charge like that. The womans accent sounds northern, but surely northern women, famed for their headstrong nature wouldnt need simple encouragement like this?

Tommen Storm
By Amyra and Casyr getting a throng around themselves the area becomes too crowded to talk, but Tommen soon hear loud talks, with phrasing in valyrian, surely this would be the right place to search for knowledge. Although masked the three men discussing were unmistakeably maesters. Their ink-stained fingers, and one of them having forgotten to take of his maesterschain surely marked them apart. Their voices were raised high, not in argument, but for the benefit of the elder one who still wore his chain, from the tilt of his head he seemed hard of hearing.

Ethelstan Pyke
Although the young lord is swarmed by people with hungry eyes there does not seem to be a threat. As you stand there nobody really seems to mind you before a servant, looking on in sympathy, offers to take you into the servants wing next door. She confides to you that the celebration is far more lively than among the nobles.

Roanne Scales
Nobody seems to mind the woman with the lambs head moving through the crowd. There is liberty in anonymity. An older woman compliments you on your modest costume, so many young women lack a sense of propriety she confides, but else there is little of notice around Roanne.

Spoiler: OOC

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Everybody may roll an awareness (empathy or notice), Ethelstan and Roanna, from not being seriously preoccupied may get a +1 D.

With the camp-followers
In the glow from a campfire, Baryl, can see a lithe woman approaching him from his right. Draped in thin garments that whispered of mystery her steps were measured, yet questioning as she walks towards the large knight. A teasing smile plays on her lips as she looks up and down the large man.

To Baryls left a more dimly lit fire showed a game of dice. Three bemused men, still keen eyed, sat and gambled with a squire. The squire was young, with small whiskers circling his rosy-cheeked face. His drunken gaze struggled to keep focus on his fellow gamblers as he spun a tale in a loud voice, only interrupted by the occasional hiccup and groans as he lost his coin to dice. "It is true I tell you". He tells the bemused men, "Lord Whent must be the richest man in the kingdom." To mark his point he tries to drink the last drops from an already empty cup. Then, noticing the giant Baryl for the first time he motions you over. "Come ser, we have drinks to taste and tales to share while we wait for the tournament to start."

[Ameraaaaaa]

Beryl couldn't lie. The woman was attractive. But beryl also wasn't an idiot. This could be a trap. However beryl had a tendency to be paranoid. Maybe she was just a lady who preferred spears rather then daggers.

"Men. Keep watch. I see a lady approaching. It could just be a fun opportunity. But it can also be a trap. If anything happens i want you to call for me. I won't be far."

Beryl walked to the lady.

"So i saw you walking towards me. I see you can't resist my superior physique. If you want we can have some fun in a bush a little further here about 50 meters or so. I know it's not perfect but i need to be close by to hear my men in case of an emergency. I ensure you however they won't hear us."

Spoiler: ooc

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Sorry if this post is too lewd. I can change it if needed.

[Gareth3]

Tommen is amused at the weavings on the walls - Whent knights did fight on the same side as Targaryen princes but he doubts they were ever literally shoulder to shoulder.

He has seen the King a few times before, and his reaction has usually been a combination of fear and hatred. Now he feels nothing but pity. He looks terrible, should he even be out here? Tommen wastes a few moments trying to diagnose some specific disease behind his appearance, but quickly gives up. Just madness.

He hears loud conversation in Valyrian and turns to look. Maesters. The men who turned all learning into a celibate order, like septons with uglier clothes. Great way to promote reason and knowledge, guys, no wonder Essos thinks of us all as illiterate pig farmers. He turns away in contempt. As he follows Casyr across the grand hall, he can still hear the Valyrian, a language no-one else at House Scales speaks. He can't quite make out the topic of conversation, probably something the House Scales people wouldn't even understand the name of...

Tommen sighs. Fine, you got me. "Excuse me, my Lord." He walks back to the maesters and addresses the man still wearing his chain. "Good evening, I am Tommen Storm, retainer to Lord Scales. May I ask your name?" While Tommen speaks he studies the man's chain, trying to determine his fields of study.

Spoiler

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What fields of study do the links on the maester's chain indicate? Knowledge (4d6)[17]

[Andrethegiant]

Baryl Mayfol
The men give you a brief look, seeming slighttly dissapointed that you don't join them, before they go back to their gaming. "Yes, your physique certainly is impressive Ser" She tells you in a sultry voice as she gets closer. "I bet a knight of your skill must earn a lot from these tournaments, perhaps you will share a few silvers as you tell me about your conquest, show some gold and I might gossip to a few of my friends about this impressive knight who keeps us company".

Spoiler: OOC

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Not too lewd at all, although this is no smut, that part will "fade to black", and the conversation will be the focus.

Tommen Storm
The maesters all turn to the newcomer, although wearing masks the two on the sides do not seem surprised their identity have been uncovered. The one with the chain seems surprised at being adressed by rank. After a moment of thought his hand shoots up to his collar. While not initiated in the maesters circle you recognize a single chain of the most common type: the silver chain, representing healing. You also recognize that he has many in bronze for astronomy a few iron, representing warfare and two in steel for metalwork.

"Yes young ser!" the eldest sets his gaze on you, "I am maester Dorian!", he noticeably does not share the identity of his companions. "I am the maester at Last Hearth, a position I have held for three dozen years and more! Every frostbite I have seen and every tale I have heard! Tell me does a thirst of knowledge drive you? What is your name, young ser?" At first the maesters loud voice makes him seem angry, but although his voice is raised his smile is gentle and his eyes unfocused under his mask. At his last question about your name the maester on his right reminds him "His name was Tommen Storm Maester Dorian!"

[Ameraaaaaa]

"Ahh well. How do i say it. I don't make that much. I have like 1 gold and 160 silver. And as pretty as you are i don't really want to waste that money in case my equipment breaks. Sorry madam but i guess I'll head back to my men. Have a good day and hopefully someone wealthier can pleasure you."

Beryl heads back to his men.

"Ah. Just a prostitute. Can't afford her services without emptying my wallet. So men did i tell you about the time i fought a dwarf. The tiny fella had scale and a spear 5 times his size. Can you believe it. Probably the strangest tournament fight i ever had. I won by throwing him out of the arena if you needed to ask. Your turn. Any strange tales to share."

Spoiler: ooc

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No worries. I didn't expect smut anyways. And beryl understands the worth of money so no party time today. Btw i mean human dwarf. Not fantasy dwarf.

[Wymmerdann]

Casyr

Casyr felt his pulse quicken. In the back of his mind he wondered whether what before him was some manner of trap, but this was dwarfed by the immediate attraction, an attraction un diminished in his young mind by any threat posed by this young woman.

He paused before replying, in a voice pitched not to carry just as hers had been, “you will find me the soul of discretion, madame, as I am told discretion is the better part of bravery. What discretion would you have of me?”

(Discord roll to persuade: charm the mysterious lady: 21)

(Roll for distracted empathy. (6d6b5)[18])

[Harmony]

Amyra Vaith

Amyra basks in the attention, replaying the events, with low enough voice to make outsiders curious but not overhear, falling into a retelling, exaggerated at times but never demeaning to anyone involved. Perhaps more than the wisdom of being seavessels into such a narrow space. She makes sure to stay clear of the Mad Kings gaze, not exactly hiding but keeping distance and objects in the way. His heir had married a Princess of Dorne, and was seemed like a good person, but she’d heard enough dark whispers to know which person she should stay clear off.

“Oh, I’ve been raised such.” She replied. “I’m Dorne, we have our traditions, just as anyone else. Just like when you see something that needs doing, you just do it.” She did not want to diminish on the northern women, they had not a say in how they were treated or how the customs up here kept them in wraps. She had learned that she had been fortunate for the years she had lived up north. “No different than the willingness to walk through fire to save our children, I believe.” She added.

[Batcathat]

Roanne moved around the hall from group to group, barely noticed by most, rarely saying more than a few words or nodding her head. She wasn't sure what she was looking for, but confident it would be apparent when she found it.

Spoiler: OOC

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Awareness (Empathy): (5d6b4)[15]

[Gareth3]

Tommen turns towards Dorian and raises his voice for his benefit. "I AM DRIVEN BY A THIRST FOR KNOWLEDGE!" No, too much. Tommen continues a little quieter. "I have considered training as a maester, but I decided in the end that I could never leave my family!" Not technically a lie, but the consideration was very brief. "You're from Last Hearth? What brings you all this way?"

[Andrethegiant]

Baryl Mayfol
The lady of the night suddenly looses her air of mystery as she turns on her heels and stomps off like a petulant child.
The dicethrowing men look up as you join them. "Aye, whores are becoming dearer by the day, the way I hear the young Baratheon spends his pasttime" the young squire says from his cups while his dicethrowing mates spit in agreement. "Want stories then I hear there are stories of him aplenty, want to buy in at dicing?".


Casyr Scales
The masked woman chuckles appreciatively as you lower your voice. "So you are careful as well as brave." Her swaying movements bring her closer and closer to you, forcing you to move backwards. "I have but a simple request, you see with the full announcement of events tomorrow we will see the first round of the melee, I suppose from your brave attire that you will have doughty knights at your service young lord?". Her last movement brings your back to the wall. She looks at you with those enchanting purple eyes: "I suppose if those knights could be put to good use it would reflect well on your house."

From the corner of your eyes you see a servant with a rose in her hair. Nothing remarkable about a rose, however, you have seen more people than normal with this rose, both among servants and the wealthier guests. To your keen mind you see that the rose wearing guests more frequently cluster together, even crossing the normally rigid lines of status.

Spoiler: OOC

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So starting an intrigue, remember you are not bound by it the same way NPCs are.
Your roll is 2DOS*4 persuasion for 8 influence. She is indifferent so she has a IR of 4. She takes 4 influence.
Mysterious woman has as her objective a favour.
She rolls a persuasion, bargain, and gets a 13. Her cunning is 4.

Amyra Vaith
The northern woman beams at the returned compliment. "Very true my lady, we all have our traditions appropriate to our station. My lord husband is too frequent away, and keeping a safe castle is as much in our blood as keeping a tidy home.

Roanne Scales
As you walk around unnoticed you see a serving woman exchange a note to a lady in much finery. You can't find any distinguishing marks on the women, however the noble lady has a gait that triggers a sense of familiarity from your near encyclopedic knowledge of the nobles of the stormlands.


Tommen Storm
As Tommen shouts a few guests nearby startle, but after a quick glance they turn back to their own groups, although with a few sending some glances your way. The maester however barely startles, and come closer to put his hand on your shoulder, a gesture that would seem fatherly if he didnt use you more like a support, holding him up. "Well my boy, a shame, a shame, the thirst for knowledge quenched by family is a too common fate!" Despite his proximity his voice was still all but shouting. "The reason for my arrival is of course my duties to the lord, but tomorrow is a maesters conclave gathering the keenest minds of the realm. Any young man showing a keen wit would be more than welcome to look on, even participate if their tongue is sufficiently clear."

[Ameraaaaaa]

"Sure. 1 silver. Tell me about Baratheon. A man like him can probably afford a army of whores."

Beryl was kinda disappointed that nobody liked his dwarf throwing story. It was his favourite. Wait did these men hear it before? Ah whatever. Hopefully Beryl still had his good dice luck.

[Gareth3]

Tommen is surprised at the offer. "Thank you, I doubt I could contribute much but I'd consider it a great honour to attend." Maesters are inviting random men to their conclaves now? Not even nobles? He sees Casyr across the room and is reminded of his mission.
"Did you get caught in the ship jam, like us? Lord Celtigar was quite effective getting us untangled."

[Wymmerdann]

Casyr wondered at the roses, but could not decide if they were a fashion statement, an inside jest, or some hint at a deeper conspiracy. He made a mental note to consult with his aunt, uncle, and mother on the matter at a later time.

Instead he considered this confident lady, whose words now gave hint as to her true intent. “My house's knights are not yet spoken for in the melee, but as we have already established, I am as discrete as they are martial, and I would hazard them confidently against any save the kingsguard or Lord Baratheon himself,” he remarked boldly. Lord Robert’s martial prowess was well-known throughout the Stormlands.

He considered her implied request “I am sure they will reflect well upon my house, but if I may be so bold, it seems you would have them reflect well upon someone else as well, or perhaps some other cause? I am not averse, but it would be most undignified for me to command them to fight on behalf of a mysterious lady, enchanting though she may be. My ancient forebears have held our lands for a thousand year, and I have no intention of leading them astray. For whom would you have them draw steel?

Spoiler: Intrigue Round 2

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Alright so

Intrigue Round 2:
Goal: Friendship – make you’re your offer plainly, as between friends
Disposition: Amiable (DR: 3, Persuasion +1)
Intrigue Defence: 11
Will 3. Composure 8/9
Action: Shield of Reputation : (4d6+2)[12] vs passive will to improve target’s disposition

[Andrethegiant]

Beryl Mayfol
The squire leers at you. "From what I hear he does, an army of whores
to engage in very unchivalrous acts". His dicing companion, to Beryls
left elabourates: "Our Lord Mace Tyrell is from a far more noble
lineage. A lord of peace and prosperity, not debauchery. I suppose
most knights follow in the mold of their lords?"

Spoiler: OOC

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They are trying to taunt you

Tommen Storm
"A, yes, Lord Miles. Quite the generous man. I still remember serving
as a maester at Old Oak when he rode through, for weeks after beggars
were smelling like Bravoosi incence!" The old maesters companions just
shake their head as a long dissembling on the virtue of charity to
enable gold to flow back to a lords coffers start.

Casyr
The lady leans in and tell you in a husky voice. "So you desire to unveil me, that would be unseemly, no? I need no knight to fight for my honor, however a very dishonourable knight is participating in the joust. If he happens to be injuried, even if only mildly in the melee much bloodshed can be stopped." Going back to an appopriate distance she adds: "The fights will be set up to make your task easier, and this will see your house fortune improved."

Spoiler: OOC

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Her Will is 4. So Casyrs status does not affect her. So19 from being neutral

[Ameraaaaaa]

"Har har." Beryl says sarcastically. "I'll just say my lord is the most noble in the land. I'll hear no slander of house scales. Now let's get back to Baratheon. How did you hear this. I assume it's a known fact. I find it funny honestly. I always heard people say he's the greatest knight in the land. Personally, not to tuot my own horn too much. But if we met in a tournament i doubt they'll say that afterwards. And i know he's a fierce warrior. I mean no disrespect. But in this life of being a knight. You have to have upmost confidence in what you do. Else you will failter when the time comes. There's mental barriers some knights have. And it's deadlier then any blade. I can safely say. I don't have that weakness. And nether does he. Our fight would be talked about for the ages."

[Batcathat]

Although it might be nothing of importance – perhaps a love note sent by some not quite appropriate lover – it spurred Roanne's curiosity if nothing else. Not to mention that even a relatively innocent love letter could topple thrones in the right situation.

With that in mind, she casually walked over to stand right behind the familiar lady, placing herself so that she could both see – and perhaps even overhear – her, while also trying to keep track of the serving woman. Perhaps she had more notes to deliver.

[Gareth3]

Tommen is quite knowledgeable about the history and geography of Westeros, but he doesn't have the slightest idea what the old maester is talking about. He listens until there's a pause in the ramble, and tries to steer the conversation back.
"I'd heard Lord Ardrian Celtigar was a very difficult man, hard to work with unless he had an actual obligation to you. But he cooperated with my Lord to get us out of that jam. Have I been hearing false rumours, or has he changed?"

Spoiler: OOC

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Persuasion test to get the maesters to talk about Ardrian Celtigar: (3d6)[8]

[Harmony]

Amyra Vaith

Amyra nodded in turn. "It seems to be the plight of husbands, having to be away so much." Her tone was serious but her eyes glimmered with jest. She threw some glances around, noting that her Lord was separated from his chaperons, and being cornered by someone who seemed to move all to close to him. "If you will excuse me..." she curtsied and moved towards Casyr. She did not want to interrupt, but if he needed some moral support, she would be there.

[Wymmerdann]

Casyr felt his cheeks redden a shade at the mention of unveiling, feeling a raging embarrassment overwhelm his natural caution. The quiet voice of his mother's training was momentarily drowned out by the possibilities of the moment, and the whispered promises of adventure, heroism, and perhaps even romance.

“Not at all, I only meant…” he began, before catching himself, “if, some blackguard might benefit from sound rebuff in melee or joust, then my house surely has the champions to secure that end, but should I accept so blindly, what a dolt you would think me: to so carelessly disregard my family name, and the honour of the men who fight at my command.”

“If my lady hesitates to speak matters more plainly, for fear of spies among the guests, then ride the grounds with me – I shall make a gift of a fine courser to her ladyship, if only to hear her tale,” he made the offer honestly, as he had brought fine mounts with him to offer to gifts of lords of high station, but also expected to be rebuffed, as the lady seemed most at ease in her beguiling masquerade.

Spoiler: Intrigue Round Three

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Alright so

Casyr burns a destiny point to take the benefit: Charismatic: Charm.

Goal: Friendship – make your offer plainly, as between friends
Disposition: Amiable (DR: 3, Persuasion +1)
Will 3. Composure 3/9
Intrigue Defence: 11

Action: Persuade: Charm to influence target: Roll 19+2(charismatic)+1(disposition)= 22. Spends a destiny point to turn a bonus die into a test die, increasing roll to 24, for 3*4= 12 points of influence on the mysterious lady if this achieves three degrees of success.

[Andrethegiant]

Beryl
The previously uncouth squire halts in his taunting. Even in a drunken state he hear Beryls confidence in his own ability. "aye, he can fight, but there is more to being a lord." He concedes, while one of his dicing companions intercedes "All we're saying is that a lord like young Baratheon is sure to spend a lot on generous feasts. Like lord Whent, he must have deep coffers indeed to even offer one tournament, while Lord Robert seems to feast with a great frequency. Lord Whent is even paying squires like Petyr here not to interfere in the stables. The stables are just too full." With hesitation, and eyeing Beryls large frame the man reaches out and offers the dicecups: "buy in is a silver".

Spoiler: OOC

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Dice is a game of cunning or deception, Beryl is poor at both, but these are low stakes if you desire to game.

Roanne Scales
The noble ladys gait has a slowness, attempting grace, but too slovenly to succeed. Almost like a farm horse, or a tortoise. The notion of her moving like a tortoise reminds you of a letter sent by your network. Arya Estemont, wife of Eldon Estemont had such a gait, you had been informed. Lord Eldon is the brother of Cassana Estemont, the mother of Lord Robert Baratheon himself. Your hypothesis gets confirmed as you view her other actions. She looks every bit like the lady your informant in the Estemont house had informed you she'd be. Curiously,as you scrutinize her more closely you notice how she gives special attention, nodding or waving to some ladies and servants. It seems she aknowledges them regardless of status.

Spoiler: OOC

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Lady Estemonts passive awareness (empathy) is 13.

Tommen Storm
"Young ser Ardrian? As miserly as his father is generous is my hearing. Aye, some new maesters say a son inherits as much from his mother as his father. A silly notion, easily disproven, but this is the way". One of the younger maesters interjects himself "These days Ardrian is no longer a young knight, he is the lord now!" Old Maester Dorian seems to aknowledge this new information for a moment, before continuing. "These young maesters listen to horsebreeders. They claim horses are both from the father and the mother. Imagine that. The seven creating us must surely have made us from a better mold than the beasts of burden we had for us".

Spoiler: OOC

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Sorry, your roll for knowledge isnt good enough to find much useful sadly.

Amyra Vaith
Before you move off the large lady bows to you, but the group reluctantly lets you pass, although after you they cluster together, surely discussing how dornish traditions would marry with the andal ways. With Rhaegar set to inherit the throne this could lead to more opportunities for young women all over Westeros.

Spoiler: OOC

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Lady Umber (giant woman) now has an amiable disposition towards you.

Casyr Scales
The lady first seem to be offended at the suggestion as her eyes, the only visible part of her, widen and her silence grows heavy. But then a pleasant, warm chuckle erupts from behind the mask. "Oh, a romantic moonlight ride is too much to resist, I will tell the whole story, I am confident that a wise lord like yourself will weigh the information given on his... Scales. However although I may reveal myself later, for tonight my identity must be hidden, although I trust you too much is at stake for this to be viable."

Spoiler: OOC

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The lady offers to yield, revealing her whole information on a ride, provided her identity stays hidden for the near future. If not she will take frustration, which will render her a less potent foe for the rest of the intrigue.

[Ameraaaaaa]

"I'm nothing really good at dice. Too much trickery for me. That's a courters job. What about a drinking contest. I say your not a real man unless you can drink 5 pints without passing out. What do you say." Beryl beat his chest in a show of bravado.

[Batcathat]

Roanne's eyes narrowed beneath the mask as she studied the likely lady Estemont and her... what? Informants? Allies? There was something there, a spider's web in both visibility and number of threads, it seemed. But who or what was the fly the spider wanted to catch?

As she continued following the little spiderlings all around the room, Roanne tried to think of a path forward. She could approach one of them and pretend she was one of them, but with little idea of the web's purpose or participants, it would be a fool's errand. As would attempting to snatch the note, most likely.

For the moment, she remained in the background, trying to keep track of the spiderlings and, if possible, glance their true identities.

[Gareth3]

Tommen is encouraged at the maester mentioning Ardrian, but then frowns at his comments about inheritance from mothers. He supresses the urge to argue and tries to gather more information. The maester is obviously hopeless for anything recent, but there is an opening. "What was his mother like?"

[Wymmerdann]

“My lady is too radiant in her raiment for me to demand otherwise, and it would be an insult to our host’s chosen theme as well,” Casyr chuckled magnanimously, feeling like he had achieved his purpose, though curiosity blazed within him.

As he saw the Lady Amyra approaching from the corner of his eye he waved her off, knowing from past experience that his family had the resources to have him observed from a distance.

Spoiler: Intrigue Concludes

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(OOC - Casyr accepts, although social convention would dictate that he be loosely followed by at least one of his retainers – in this case likely some of Amyra’s cadre)