The Days and Nights of House Corinthyen

The Welcome Feast

Good food, good music, and all on the Crown's coin. What could go wrong?

Golden hall

The party meets up with Errik and his sisters at the Tourney fields to ensure their names have been properly entered into the lists.

Mattyw enters the Musical Contest.
Giselle enters the Archery Contest.
Areon and Onri enter the Grand Melee.
Errik enters the Joust and the Grand Melee.

They fill Errik in on the day’s events, and he reports that his attempts to approach Adham Lugus have been solidly rebuffed – the heir to house Lugus has remained in his tent whenever not required to appear by propriety, and his guards have turned away all comers.


At last they all arrive at the feast, the red light of the evening sky making the Tower of the Sun seem to glow like burnished gold. The Palace Guards confiscate any weaponry they brought with them, giving them markers for later retrieval – violence at Dornish feasts is far from unheard-of, and the Princess wants nothing to disturb her son’s celebration.

The feast hall is nearly as large as the entirety of Skycrest, and still crowded with noble lords and ladies, and their retinues. Conversations bubble around the room, the hum echoing in the hall’s distant rafters. As the Corinthyen heir and party enter the room, some groups take note and the murmur filling the room seems to rise. A few of the groups – mostly those of lower social standing – look displeased, but most appear simply curious.

The Princess and Prince have not yet entered, and ushers are only now beginning to direct people to their seats. Errik and his sisters are to be seated according to their father’s rank, near the Princess, but not within easy conversational range. The others will be seated closer to the back of the hall, among the other bondsmen, sworn swords, and ranking retainers, but Errik asks Giselle to attend him – although her own meal will still be served in the back, she will be able to carry messages back and forth.

As they move out into the room, the group can quickly locate the Lugus entourage and their hangers-on. Giselle makes eye contact with Ruben Piper, but the man doesn’t show even a hint of recognition. Mattyw, meanwhile, recognizes Orten Dannet and his hard-drinking siblings among the crowd. Orten raises a glass to him and smiles. Marita, meanwhile, seems less pleased to be here- she is accompanied by a tall, middle-aged man of soft build and fair complexion; presumably this is her betrothed, the much-maligned Ser Langley Woods.

Janessa and Janeria seem to have made friends quickly – they head off through the room with a boy about their age wearing the colors of House Allyrion of Godsgrace. Errik, with a sigh, makes his way after them, trying to stay within sight.

Onri enters the hall, a slow smirk emerging on his lips as he thinks about the preparation he put into his appearance. The fine, light tunic of House Doryc’s red and blue. The jewelry, topped off by a silver pendant of Parth’s Pillar with a small ruby fire and sapphire waves. Oils scented of lilac.

Unlike Matthyw, Onri discretely keeps some distance between himself and the Dannets, choosing instead to seek out a comely lass from a smaller house to impress with tales of adventure in faraway lands. {Persuasion, Charm, Fancy Dress, 18; Success x2} Onri’s advances are very well received – the lass is rapt with attention.

Giselle does her best to keep tabs on everyone, most especially Errik, while also keeping her ears peeled for useful gossip. Most of the talk is about the tournament, or other, more distant news regarding the usual skirmishes along the March and pirate troubles. There is some talk, though, of the controversy surrounding House Corinthyen. And it seems that Adham Lugus, however withdrawn he has been, is not being coy about voicing his complaints to other nobles; nor is he holding back from the drink, by the look of him.

Areon finds a large group of men of similar rank drinking and boasting near the rear of the hall. They include the usual mix of Sworn Swords – some of whom Areon is acquainted with from past tournaments – and hedge knights, all hoping to make their fortune or gain the attention of a noble patron. Whatever their brag, the consensus seems to be that the most likely winner of the melee will be one of those wealthy knights fortunate enough to have both heavy plate armor and a Valyrian steel weapon – the current Sword of the Morning from House Dayne, Ser Aldric, seems to be a favorite contender.

As the flood of arriving guests slows to a trickle, trumpets blow and a hush settles over the room – the Princess and the Prince are introduced by their manifold titles and enter to thundering applause. The feast commences.

A servant boy gets Mattyw’s attention, and leads him to where the other bards and musicians are gathering to wait their turns before the Prince. Their names are called, along with the House that sponsors them, and each is given 1 minute to impress the Prince, or be booed off the floor. Although Mattyw does note several skilled performances, and there is no lack of entrants, the general level of competition does not seem particularly high this evening.

After what seems like a great while, but is really less than an hour, the steward calls out, “Mattyw Lews, Court Bard of House Corinthyen, Sponsored by Errik Corinthyen!”

Mattyw smiles as he approaches the dais, having been warming his vocal cords since he was brought to the other musicians. His head remains lowered as he reflects on his past, and how he now has the chance to play for the Prince and bring honor to his House.

As he stands, bowing before the Prince, his head swoons and he promptly forgets the song he was about to perform. He slumps sadly backwards into the chair, head turned over his instrument. His fingers slowly begin pulling at the strings, emitting a sad and haunting melody. His voice starts off high and ethereal, almost as if mournful.

“This is the story of years ago,
Of blood both old and new,
The story of a youthful lad,
And his aging father too.
__
Long before the man before us now,
Was a man who ruled these sands,
A man who could barely abide his son,
The Prince before whom we stand.
__
On his deathbed of years gone past,
When few words were spoken,
Between this lord and lad,
Yet few hearts were broken."
__
Mattyw lets out a slowly building ‘For’ that drags along as he seems to slide up along the chair, tilting it backwards, until he is balanced with one foot on the top of the chair and the other on the edge of his seat, before shouting out:
__
“The Prince is Dead! Long Live the Prince!”
__
From here, his fingers fly into a fury of activity, yielding uplifting rhythms and melodies from the instrument that seem to struggle with each other for dominance, yet neither seems to win out as they both take center stage.
__
“They fought and swore,
But ne’er came to blows,
And again once more,
As everyone knows!
__
The Prince is Dead! Long Live the Prince!
__
It’s fair I think to say,
That of the two to choose,
It wouldn’t take a brain full of sand,
To follow the proper clues.
__
The Prince is Dead! Long Live the Prince!"

With this final cry, he violently rocks the chair forward, sending himself tumbling forward in a somersault, rolling forward on the hard floor as one last chord echoes out through the chamber, before he comes to a halt in a pose of supplication, knees flat on the ground and tucked up under his chest with his arms splayed out on the floor for balance, theorbo tucked neatly again on his back.

{Persuasion, Charm, Roleplaying: 16, Success x2}

There is a long moment of silence as the assembled nobles absorb the utter boldness of the song. The Princess looks rather displeased, but the Prince remains dispassionate, seeming to give the performance his full consideration. Then he cracks a smile and rising to his feet, applauds – as if on cue, the rest of the hall bursts into applause as well.

From her position near Errik, Giselle notes that the applause seems to be coming much more from behind her, among the lower-ranked nobles, than the honored seats near the front.

The Prince speaks, “Rise, Mattyw of House Corinthyen. You risk much by singing so boldly, and I must admit I felt a brief impulse to hold you to account for it – an impulse that others may wish I were acting on. But how can I punish an artist for singing what all know to be true? Whomever else may take offense, I request, nay, I command you to return tomorrow night to continue the contest. But a word of caution, brave bard: discretion may henceforth be the better part of valor.” A mixture of applause and friendly laughter echo through the hall at the Prince’s words, and then servants are helping Mattyw down from the stage and ushering him toward the rear of the hall while the steward calls the next name on the list.

Mattyw decides to celebrate with a few quiet drinks and to keep his head down, relieved to have walked away from that alive.

Meanwhile, Giselle turns in response to a tug at her sleeve, and finds a young servant boy in the livery of House Martell looking up at her. “Master Piper bids you be wary – Ser Adham is planning something,” he says, and then a toothy grin spreads across his face. “And he’s mighty drunk, too.”

Onri, seated next to Errik, also overhears this.

Closer to the back of the hall, Areon is fortunate to be seated close enough to the main doors to see a pair of House Lugus guardsman enter the Grand Hall carrying something. Looking closer, it appears to be a large platter draped in a black cloth – Lugus’ gift to the Prince, perhaps? Or is it the bloody Hoplite shield they were rumored to possess…

Onri kisses the hand of the lass he has been speaking with then says, “I will be right back, fair lady. Don’t forget me.” She giggles and nods assent.

With that, Onri quickly leans in towards Errick. “My lord, if Adham makes a scene, I think we should not reveal what we know about the Dannets. We have no firm evidence against them, and we would merely lose our advantage.” He then makes his way to Giselle and Areon to tell them as well. Afterwards, Onri returns to his companion, holding a goblet of white wine and whatever she was imbibing. “My lady,” he says, offering her the drink with a mischievous smile. {Onri: Persuasion: Charm: 14, Success x2} The young lady accepts graciously, and Onri resumes his charming and flirting.

The feast proceeds as planned over the next hour, as the final musical competitors are rejected or invited back, and then the royal bards strike up an instrumental number while the Chief Steward begins calling upon the great houses and their banners to present their gifts, beginning with the most powerful and favored, and continuing from there. House Corinthyen is called fifteenth – respectable in that the House was named at all, though not otherwise prestigious. Giselle follows Errik up, carrying the longbow in its case. They round the performers’ platform, now being used to hold the glittering array of treasures presented as tribute to the Prince, and present House Corinthyen’s gift – a master crafted Thracyen Longbow, inlaid with filigreed Chalcy gold by Lord Corinthyen’s own goldsmith, held in a similarly ornate box crafted from fine, heavy oak imported by House Doryc. Smiling with pleasure, the Prince rises to thank them.

“Truly, a marvelous gift, though I suspect the Shadowcats it slays will think differently!” He gestures toward Errik in a friendly fashion and meets his eyes as he continues. “I hope that you and yours will join me later this week for a Grand Hunt, honorable son of Corinthyen.” Errik is not the first to have received this invitation – most of the young lordlings were invited – but it is an honor nonetheless. He bows to accept. As Giselle turns to place the bow and case on the platform, she sees Adham Lugus rise unsteadily to his feet.

“Honorable?” The young man shouts. “Honorable? Are so-called Knights and Nobles honorable when they butcher innocent farmers down to the women and children? Are they honorable when they take from the weak and give to themselves?”

A hush falls over the hall as all eyes turn to Adham Lugus.

“Your Majesty, in the name of my father Lord Alfric and House Lugus, I implore you to hear my complaint against these murderers and warmongers!” He shouts, face flushed with some combination of fury and wine. Silence reigns for a moment, and everyone turns toward the front, to see what the response will be. The Prince seems at a loss for words, and sits down rather sharply when his mother, the Princess, rises to speak.

“Though the manner and timing of your outburst displeases me greatly, young Ser Lugus, the accusations you describe are heinous indeed, and I have no recourse but to hear them – here and now, if you will not be silent.” Jaw clenched in barely controlled anger, Errik bows stiffly when the Princess gestures for him to step aside. Adham Lugus, followed by two unarmed Guardsman carrying the cloth-covered disc, strides confidently forward.

As Adham makes his accusation, Onri takes a sip of wine and turns to his companion. “I hate it when boys who can’t hold their ale try to ruin a wonderful evening!” Onri says with sarcastic exasperation. Onri slips out of the table and discretely makes his way towards Errik. He stays in the background, not wanting to force himself into the situation unless necessary.

Areon will hastily take his leave from the other men-at-arms and make his way over to Errik’s side, ready to defend his lord however is necessary. Giselle, meanwhile, shows nothing on her face. She watches this carefully, armed with knowledge and truth.

Mattyw, panicked at being at his first high-profile function and seeing his house challenged, begins slowly drifting among the lower houses seating, trying to get a sense of the mood, all the while changing his voice and throwing it a little bit to the various lower houses, drawing on all of his skills as a Mummer. He continuously remarks (via his disguised thrown voice persona, whom follows him around to the houses) that it seems like House Lugus looks like they mean to harm the Princess!

{Mattyw: Deception: Act: 17, Success! Some of the talk among the smaller houses begins to turn against House Lugus.}

{Mattyw: Stealth: Blend In: 12, Success! Mattyw does not believe that anyone has realized it is him speaking.}

The young Ser Adham passionately describes the circumstances of the unprovoked attack on House Lugus’ smallfolk, the brutal slayings of unarmed farmers, and his discovery of the bloody carnage. He interweaves occasional difficulties and disputes with House Corinthyen, magnifying them as motive for this unprovoked attack, citing the deaths of House Lugus retainers within their lands, and a tale of slaughtered men and dogs found in a camp along the road – both of which are eerily familiar to the Corinthyen party.

He finishes his declamation with a flourish, sweeping his arm back to point at the guardsmen as they tug the cloth off of their load. A gasp runs through the entire hall as he does so, and a pair of Martell soldiers leap forward as if to protect the princess – only to stand and stare along with everyone else when Adham Lugus reveals his gift to the Prince: a bloody and damaged shield bearing the heraldry of House Corinthyen and the insignia of the Hoplites.

Mattyw continues trying to stir up the lower Houses against Lugus, gently prodding some of the more outspoken of them to jeer openly at Adahm, but making sure to slip away before it happens.

{Mattyw: Deception: Act: 15, Success! Mattyw’s ventriloquist urgings draw grumbling from a few outspoken nobles, irate that the feast was interrupted for a personal vendetta.}

{Mattyw: Stealth: Blend In: 13, Success! Mattyw is confident that no one has realized he is behind the murmurings.}

A few cries of, “Throw him out!” and “Silence the drunkard!” are met by countering calls of “Hear him, hear him!” and “Justice for the dead!” It’s clear that tensions in the room are beginning to rise. Although the various nobles and guests have set to whispering among themselves, the Princess doesn’t bat an eye. Before Adham can continue speaking, she cuts him off.

“You make claims that must be answered, Adham Lugus, and you bring evidence worth considering before me – though I must comment again on your ill choice of timing,” She says. “Errik of House Corinthyen, you and yours stand accused before the assembled court. Have you anything to say in your defense?”

Errik clears his throat and erases all trace of nervousness from his face before stepping forward.

“My thanks, you Grace.” He proceeds to dig in to Adham’s claims, calling them ridiculous, baseless, and ill-conceived. After all, he points out, elite soldiers wouldn’t leave a shield lying around for anyone to find, if they didn’t want to leave a trail. If the shield was left deliberately, why wouldn’t House Corinthyen simply engage in open warfare? That aside, House Doryc, one of Corinthyen’s banners, defends House Lugus’ coast from pirates. If Corinthyen wanted to cause trouble, it would be easier to simply withdraw this protection. And as if that weren’t enough, House Lugus is so poor that they attempted to sell off their heir to a merchant. Perhaps House Lugus is making false accusations in order to coax “reparations” from House Corinthyen?

Areon would add, “My lords, your Majesties, I have trained with the hoplites of House Corinthyen, and they would neither stoop to unprovoked attacks on farms and villages, nor be so careless to leave behind a shield. Adham,” Areon will leave off the appropriate affectation, “what motivation would we have for these attacks? Are there any witnesses? Would it not make more sense that someone interested in stirring up trouble between our houses would be behind this?” Areon will turn to the prince and princess, “I for one wish to find the truth, and this is a cry for vengeance, not a cry for justice. I would be happy to assist in the investigation in any way possible, as I am sure my lord would be, but this is a time of celebration, not a court of law!”

Adham’s fury grows throughout the dismissive diatribes, and at last he cannot contain himself. “Liars! You are liars and thugs!”

“How dare you?” Errik replies, quite angry himself. “You forget yourself, Ser!” His hands tighten into fists as Adham strides toward him. Areon, Giselle, and Onri step up behind Errik as Adham’s guardsman step forward behind him.

“Enough!” The Princess says, exasperated. “Ser Lugus, you have disrupted my son’s celebration for long enough. Do you wish a trial, or do you just want to brawl like common miscreants?”

Adham has the grace, at least, to look somewhat ashamed at the Princess’ words, though his fire is only slightly dimmed. “I demand a trial by combat, Your Majesty. I will have satisfaction for my people.”

“So be it.” The Princess says. “Errik Corinthyen, I charge you to appear upon the tourney field tomorrow at noon. Steward, verify that both Adham Lugus and Errik Corinthyen are entered in the lists. They shall do us the honor of commencing the joust – at least the rabble will enjoy a good show. Now all you, out of my sight!”

The parties from Houses Corinthyen and Lugus are escorted from the area of the head tables – unfortunately, this means Errik and Onri are removed from their seats and given places lower down. Adham Lugus and his party depart in a huff. Everywhere in the room, the conversation focuses on these events.

The rest of the evening looks to proceed without interruption.

{But it doesn’t have to be over yet, if people want to take further action. Experience and such will be forthcoming shortly, and then the tourney begins in earnest. Make sure to let me know if you want any other scenes for your characters tomorrow before the Joust.}

Comments

Mattyw grins at Orten, making a gesture at his head as though it were still hurting – and it is, but from the concussion rather than the drinking. He slips over to the Dannets, greeting them heartily before dipping close to Orten’s ear and whispering, “I ensured your lady found her way safe to her home, so you need not worry about her this evening.” He bows and kisses Marita’s hand before introducing himself to Ser Langley Woods, effusing Marita’s beauty and stating what a blessing it has been to know her, for however brief a time. He throws a wink at her before disengaging and returning to his friends, making a few comments to serving girls as he passes. When he returns, he makes sure he has a cup of wine in his hand to try and ease the pounding in his skull.

The Welcome Feast
 

//Onri was actually planning on entering the Grand Melee. On another note, Onri is wearing his noble’s outfit in the Dornish style, along with his jewelry and some lilac scent. Fancypants!

Onri enters the hall, a slow smirk emerging on his lips as he thinks about the preparation he put into his appearance. The fine, light tunic of House Doryc’s red and blue. The jewelry, topped off by a silver pendant of Parth’s Pillar with a small ruby fire and sapphire waves. Oils scented of lilac.

Unlike Matthyw, Onri discretely keeps some distance between himself and the Dannets, choosing instead to seek out a comely lass from a smaller house to impress with tales of adventure in faraway lands.

The Welcome Feast
 

//My apologies to Onri! He, too, deserves a seat at the higher tables by virtue of his birth. We’ll put him next to Errik and the twins.

The Welcome Feast
 

//Sorry for the absence. Busy with friends’ weddings and such. I’ll be pretty busy for the next while too, so Giselle will play the role of messenger and I’ll try to check back and see if she needs to pitch in anywhere else. Other than attempting to garner more information (via overhearing, not direct inquisition) about the Lugus’ endeavors as of late (and how Corinthyen might be linked/implicated) she will carry messages and attend to Errik’s needs.

The Welcome Feast
 

//Been busy too, sorry about that, I’ll try to keep up a little better here :).

Areon will attempt to find any of the other men who have signed up for the Grand Melee, just sharing a drink with them (not enough to get tipsy) and discussing their thoughts on the tournament.

The Welcome Feast
 

//Sorry for the long delay! Been a seriously crazy week. I’ll probably explain at some point, but for now: we’re back in motion.

The Welcome Feast
 

//Details for Mattyw:

The room is warm, brightly lit with torches, candles, and the last rays of the sun shining through the skylight windows all reflecting around the room’s burnished gold walls and furnishings. Tables and chairs fill the room, loaded down with succulent foods and enough flagons of wine to drown an army. The wealthy and highborn sit and feast, or mill about, conversing and politicking with their peers. Toward the back of the hall, the lower born, poorer, and less favored fill tables covered with simpler fare. The hubbub of conversation dies down only occasionally, when a singer or musician of particular skill steps forth – already, several luckless bards have been drowned out by raucous laughter.

The playing area itself consists of a raised stage that makes the night’s players visible to all in the room, surrounded on three sides by floor-level tables packed with Dorne’s most powerful lords and ladies – Errik, the twins, and Onri among them, if placed in a rather less advantageous position. The fourth side faces the high table where the Princess, the Prince, and the Privy Council are seated. There is a chair on the players’ stage, for those who wish to use it.

The Welcome Feast
 

//Details, continued:

The songs played thus far have been universally upbeat and lighthearted, with a mixture of traditional and new songs centered around parties, birthdays, and the Prince’s virtues. A few bold singers also took the opportunity to jab at various nobles while extolling the Prince in comparison, with mixed success. Notably, a sharp-tongued bard from the Marches was knocked from the stage when a tough Dornish roll struck him the back of the head – his tumble was met with some applause and a few calls of “Encore!” No one seems sure who threw the roll, but the Prince did invite the singer to return on the morrow, “and wear a skullcap, if you please!”

The Welcome Feast
 

Mattyw smiles as he approaches the dais, having been warming his vocal cords since he was brought to the other musicians. His head remains lowered as he reflects on his past, how he now has the chance to play for the Prince and bring honor to his House.

As he stands, bowing before the Prince, his head swoons and he promptly forgets the song he was about to perform. He slumps sadly backwards into the chair, head turned over his instrument. His fingers slowly begin pulling at the strings, emitting a sad and haunting melody. His voice starts off high and ethereal, almost as if mournful.

This is the story of years ago,
Of blood both old and new,
The story of a youthful lad,
And his aging father too.

Long before the man before us now,
Was a man who ruled these sands,
A man who could barely abide his son,
The Prince before whom we stand.

On his deathbed of years gone past,
When few words were spoken,
Between this lord and lad,
Yet few hearts were broken.

Mattyw lets out a slowly building ‘For’ that drags along as he seems to slide up along the chair, tilting it backwards, until he is balanced with one foot on the top of the chair and the other on the edge of his seat, before shouting out:

*The Prince is Dead! Long Live the Prince!
*

From here, his fingers fly into a fury of activity, yielding uplifting rhythms and melodies from the instrument that seem to struggle with each other for dominance, yet neither seems to win out as they both take center stage.

They fought and swore,
But ne’er came to blows,
And again once more,
As everyone knows!

The Prince is Dead! Long Live the Prince!

It’s fair I think to say,
That of the two to choose,
It wouldn’t take a brain full of sand,
To follow the proper clues.

The Prince is Dead! Long Live the Prince!

With this final cry, he violently rocks the chair forward, sending himself tumbling forward in a somersault, rolling forward on the hard floor as one last chord echoes out through the chamber, before he comes to a halt in a pose of supplication, knees flat on the ground and tucked up under his chest with his arms splayed out on the floor for balance, theorbo tucked neatly again on his back.

The Welcome Feast
 

//Updates for all!

The Welcome Feast
 

I think that calls for Mattyw to celebrate with a few quiet drinks and keep his head down, relieved to have walked away from that alive.

The Welcome Feast
 

//Re-updated – now there is definitely at least one thing happening to everyone. Well, I guess not Mattyw so much. But everyone else.

The Welcome Feast
 

Onri kisses the hand of the lass he has been speaking with then says, “I will be right, fair lady. Don’t forget me.”

With that, Onri quickly leans in towards Errick. “My lord, if Adham makes a scene, I think we should not reveal what we know about the Dannets. We have no firm evidence against them, and we would merely lose our advantage.” He then makes his way to Giselle and Areon to tell them as well. Afterwards, Onri returns to his companion, holding a goblet of white wine and whatever she was imbibing. “My lady,” he says, offering her the drink with a mischievous smile.

The Welcome Feast
 

//Argh!!! Should read: Onri kisses the hand of the lass he has been speaking with then says, “I will be right back, fair lady. Don’t forget me.”

The Welcome Feast
 

//Major plot point update!

The Welcome Feast
 

// Ugh, if only I had the foresight to replace that ‘hoplite’ shield with a guard’s shield earlier…

The Welcome Feast
 

As Adham makes his accusation, Onri takes a sip of wine and turns to his companion. “I hate it when boys who can’t hold their ale try to ruin a wonderful evening!” Onri says with sarcastic exasperation. Onri slips out of the table and discretely makes his way towards Errik. He stays in the background, not wanting to force himself into the situation unless necessary.

The Welcome Feast
 

Areon will hastily take his leave from the other men-at-arms and make his way over to Errik’s side, ready to defend his lord however is necessary.

The Welcome Feast
 

Giselle shows nothing on her face. She will watch this carefully, armed with knowledge and truth.

The Welcome Feast
 

Mattyw, panicked at being at his first high-profile function and seeing his house challenged, begins slowly drifting among the lower houses seating, trying to get a sense of the mood, all the while changing his voice and throwing it a little bit to the various lower houses, drawing on all of his skills as a Mummer. He continuously remarks (via his disguised thrown voice persona, whom follows him around to the houses) that it seems like House Lugus looks like they mean to harm the Princess!

The Welcome Feast
 

//Another update. Because I don’t want to play with…myself…here, I ask that you all suggest points and arguments for Errik to make. You can also pipe up in your own characters’ voices, but keep in mind your relative social rank before the Princess. Once everyone has had a chance to chime in, I’ll update in Errik’s voice. Sound good?

The Welcome Feast
 

//Were Mattyw with Errik, he’d probably make some passing snide remark about how the shield looks eerily like a House Lugus shield with a crude repainting done to it. Of course, Mattyw’d probably throw in a bit more Vitriol about how that would imply that Lugus was slaughtering his own peasants for fun..

Mattyw continues trying to stir up the lower Houses against Lugus, gently prodding some of the more outspoken of them to jeer openly at Adahm, but making sure to slip away before it happens.

The Welcome Feast
 

//Update on Rase’s action. The nobles seem divided on the accusations.

The Welcome Feast
 

//Some arguments:
-Elite soldiers wouldn’t leave a shield lying around for anyone to find, if they didn’t want to leave a trail. If the shield was left deliberately, why wouldn’t House Corinthyen simply engage in open warfare?
-House Doryc, one of Corinthyen’s banners, defends House Lugus’ coast from pirates. If our house wanted to cause trouble, it would be easier to simply withdraw this protection.
-House Lugus is so poor that they attempted to sell off their heir to a merchant. Perhaps House Lugus is making false accusations in order to coax “reparations” from House Corinthyen?

The Welcome Feast
 

//Anyone else have anything to add? Any other evidence of Corinthyen’s innocence? Witnesses to alleged incidents, for example?

The Welcome Feast
 

Areon would add, “My lords, I have trained with the hoplites of House Corinthyen, and they would neither stoop to unprovoked attacks on farms and villages, nor be so careless to leave behind a shield. Adham,” Areon will leave off the appropriate affectation, “what motivation would we have for these attacks? Are there any witnesses? Would it not make more sense that someone interested in stirring up trouble between our houses would be behind this?” Areon will turn to the prince and princess, “I for one wish to find the truth, and this is a cry for vengeance, not a cry for justice. I would be happy to assist in the investigation in any way possible, as I am sure my lord would be, but this is a time of celebration, not a court of law!”

The Welcome Feast
 

//Updated!

The Welcome Feast
 

//Areon doesn’t have anything else he wants to accomplish at the feast, he will just stick close to Errik. Furthermore, if it would be appropriate, Areon will offer to champion for Errik in a duel, should it be required. He will not do so for the joust, as he is not very skilled on horseback, and Errik is probably better.

The Welcome Feast
 

//As it stands, you know Mattyw’s plans, which don’t really change with regards to this, unless it might occur to Mattyw to somehow sabotage all of the Lugus lances, but I don’t know as if that would even help…

The Welcome Feast
 

//Onri will try to locate drinking companion, assuming he’s allowed anywhere near her after the accusations. Aside from that, he’ll save his schemes for a later time.

The Welcome Feast
JonathonVolkmer JonathonVolkmer

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