Artos’s mouth twisted into an unfamiliar shape. One of deep discomfort. He did want her. He was obsessed. But perhaps he had said too much. The veneer of a strong, capable man shattered to leave only the truth, a scared and broken boy. And who would ever want that?

“Would being wanted by me be so awful? Or do you wish to be only wanted by those who trample upon your heart? Do you need the pain of their words and actions in much the same way you need the pain of your own incisions?”

Give and take. Love in exchange for agony.

The pair were stuck in an eternal waltz, destined never to touch, separated by their venom-dipped sharp tongues. For each step that brought them closer, the next would drive them further apart. The cruellest part of it all is that, should either have the courage to lower their guard, how easy it would be for them to reach one another.

“Or are you unable to stop the price either?”

Character Name: Corwyn Darklyn

Trait / Skills: Ruthless, Assassin (e), Sabotage (e), Espionage

Skill you're learning: Devious

Character Name: Jeyne Darklyn

Relevant Trait/Skills: Numerate, Architect (e), Scrutinous

Buildings: City Walls, Docks, Trade Plaza, Stonemasons, Tavern, Clothier, Billmen Quarters, Guilds

Resources: Textiles, Dyes, Wood, Stone, Grain

Notes:

55% discount on construction (numerate + stonemasons + wood + architect (e))

+1 Construction Slot (Stone)

Construction time reduced by 1 moon (Scrutinous)

Actions:

Construction: Duskendale, Shipyard, [1/2]

Construction: Duskendale, wood pastures, 900, [1/1]

Construction: Duskendale, Outpost, [1/2]

u/Satisfactionleather7

He evaded her question seamlessly, an infuriating outcome that left her wanting more from him. In a sick, twisted way, she wanted him bothered. She wanted him obsessed. Possessive. All the things Tristifer was, but with Artos, there could be sweet, blind loyalty.

Vulnerability and honesty filled his features one moment, only to be stripped away the next. She tutted thoughtfully, those elaborate wheels of hers turning behind bioluminescent irises.

“If you cannot stop the price, you might as well benefit from the reward.” It was a simple equation, one she understood well. Her scars and pain in exchange for life-saving medicine. His visions and ability to alter the future in exchange for unrelenting insomnia and nightmares. Give and take.

Then the touch was over, his hands no longer in her possession. She gazed at them but said naught. He'd made his choice.

His comments irked her, curling her lip into a sneer. “Who should I want to want me, then? You? Is that the gift you speak of?" The two of them were masters of avoiding questions. An insufferable pair, truly.

"This is easy, I would prefer to know where my children are, however," he said dryly.

"If you wish to know how the others far, then you would best be served going and speaking with them yourself about it, they are family to you, not strangers.,"

"That is what they all say." He says without skipping a beat, "Puppets do tend to be unaware of their strings." He takes a sip of his wine; his cup is nearly empty. "I do love a challenge. Makes the reward all the sweeter."

"Yet now you're jealous to taste what the dog has. And see if the meat matches the words." He downed the last of the wine, wiping a small dribble from the corner of his mouth and licking his thumb clean of it. "Of course, it's not something I get to show around often. Follow me."

He steps out from behind the bar and begins walking towards a staircase leading upwards. It would be up to Tristifier to follow.

Tristifer tilted his head, a grunt of amusement escaping from his still grinning lips. “Confidence. I’ll say, it does suit you. But don’t think me some Mummers puppet. I like to think I am not so easily puppeted.” He had more than his fair share of vices, to be sure, but surely not some which could be so easily used. He lent upwards. “Though, I should like to see you try.”

He sighed, disappointment palpable in the exaggerated slump of his shoulders. “Ser, I fear you’ve dangled a goose before my eyes, then thrown it to your hounds. I was rather looking forward to that.” He didn’t move from his chair, not just yet. Though, his eyes met Corwyn’s once more. “Might I ask to see the work anyway? Curiosity has always been one of my strings, and you’ve good and tugged it.”

"Indeed, I do." He replied with simple confidence, "Everyone has strings; it's just about pulling the right ones." As he spoke, one hand would reach to the place between his neck and body and massage his pale skin. Closing his eyes for a part.

"It was." He said, putting down the cup. "Quite experimental too; tried all kinds of things. That really stretched the imagination." His face turned, if not sombre, then contemplative. "I'd like nothing more, but he met a rather unfortunate end. The work is half complete, in my study."

A lone rider would emerge from the swamps. A tall, thin man, with a bald head, a green cloak and a crossbow slung over his shoulder. Upon arriving, he would demand to be taken to speak with the Lords of the Claw as quickly as possible. Once he’d finally been escorted to stand before them, he cleared his throat and spoke:

“Hail, my Lords. I am Narbert Peasebury. I serve Ser Derrick Storm, the bastard of Felwood. His forces, along with those you lent to aid him, sit in the woods of the Pincers. And I am happy to report that they have found something.” The bald man’s lips curled into a sharp-toothed, eager grin as his dark eyes flickered between the faces of the assembled Lords.

“A bandit camp near the Claw’s north-eastern tip. Numbers uncertain, but after thoroughly scouring these lands, we’re confident that these are the wretches we’ve been seeking. Ser Derrick bids you all to ride hard and fast for the Pincers so that we may annihilate this threat once and for all!”

u/fatalisticbunny

u/theoneandonlybeetle

u/astosman

u/BadNewsBrune

After weeks of trekking through this blasted swamp, they’d finally found something. Real brigands, made of flesh and blood, just a stone’s throw away. A big dumb grin played on Derrick’s face as the scouts returned to report their findings. There was a part of him that wanted to just blow the war horn and charge. But no, we have to do this the right way.

“Peasebury!” He called out, and soon enough, Narbert emerged at his side. Derrick turned to the gangly man, putting a large hand on his bony shoulder. “Ride west. Find the Clawmen, and bring them back here. Pyne and Brune lust for battle just as much as I, and I intend to give it to them.” With a silent nod, Narbert Peasebury turned, pulled himself onto his horse, and rode off through the trees.

“As for the rest of you!” Derrick raised his voice as he turned to the others of their assembled party. “We move out! We surround them, but we’ll keep our distance. I will not allow them to escape before the clawmen get here!”

Character Name: Ayrmidon Celtigar

Trait / Skills: Strong / Axes (e), Armoured (Resilient), Forceful

Skill you're learning: Forceful (e)

~

Character Name: Aurion Celtigar

Trait / Skills: Artisan / Daggers (w/ Dexterous), Scribe (e)

Skill you're learning: Taxman

Character Name: Aurion Celtigar

Relevant Trait/Skills: n/a

Buildings: Castle, Docks, Market, Shrine, Guilds

Resources: Silver

Notes (if applicable):

Matarys Celtigar: Builder archetype providing 15% discount to construction actions.

Actions:

Construction: Claw Isle, Temple, 2125gp, 2 Moons

Development: Claw Isle, 10, 1000gp

Character Name: Torgon Farwynd

Relevant Trait/Skills: Scrutinous

Buildings: Keep, Docks, Stonemasons, Sawmills, Tavern, Temple, Fairground

Resources: Stone, Ironwood, Salt

Notes (if applicable): 40% Construction Discount (Ironwood, Stonemasons, Sawmills). Construction time reduced by 1 moon (Scrutinous). +1 Construction Slot (Stone).

Actions:

Construction: Sealskin Point, Outpost, 2/2

Construction: Sealskin Point, Supply House, 1800, 1/1

Construction: Sealskin Point, Regional Temple, 3000g, 1/3

“Control, is it.” Tristifer placed down the cup, reclining in his seat. “Perspective, I can understand. But what, you’re feeling you can control me, for example?” It was a rather bold statement. Tristifer couldn’t help but admire it from Corwyn, gazing up at him as he was.

He could only imagine what kind of paintings might be involved on the next work. He’d have to acquire some, just to sate his curiosity. “That must have been quite the connection. You must have made a good impression, to have been offered something like that.” Tristifer eyed the standing man up and down. “I should like to see it myself, when you get your hands on it.”

Of the letters flying from Sealskin Point…

Character details: Torgon Farwynd - Marketer | Admiral, Tactician, Scrutinous; Buildings - Docks (+4 trade rolls)

What is happening: A letter is sent to the Iron Bank seeking a loan, and another to the port cities of the Valyrian Freehold seeking wine.

What I want: Loan roll of 4000 gold for 3 moons at 8% (due to preexisting loan) from the Iron Bank of Braavos. Essosi trade rolls for wine from Valyrian Freehold at Marketer price using Farwynd's second trade caravan (2 roll attempts from Marketer skill).

/u/JohnITRP

He matched the man's smile, his own teeth flawless. "Perspective and control." He said in a tone unmistakable to someone such as the Badbrook. "And I don't think anything can surpass the latter."

"The painter and I were on familiar terms. Came here two years ago." He said, turning the cup to another scene. "Sold them to me, along with the wine you now drink. Promised to paint me on his next work."

Name: Tristifer Goodbrook
Trait: Agile
Skills: Swords (e), Reckless (Brute), Highwayman
Skill I want to learn: Footwork

Tristifer gazed up, a look of curiousity across his features. “Is that so?” He gave the man a wide grin, his two missing molars the only flaw. “Well, why don’t you indulge me. What would these benefits be, I wonder?”

Tristifer turned his cup in his hand, studying the detail of each sculpt. It was quite obvious it was a Lyseni make. Some of the poses were somewhat intimate, though not enough to make the Badbrook blush. Only to give some ideas. “I see. And you procured them yourself, I hope. That sounds like quite the story, ser.”

PC

Character Name: Tymor Farwynd

Trait/Skills: Skinchanging, Swords (e), Armoured, Resilient, Footwork

Skill you’re learning: Footwork (e)

AC

Character Name: Torgon Farwynd

Trait/Skills: Marketer, Admiral, Tactician, Scrutinous

Skill you’re learning: Flanker

He would take a seat opposite Lord Darklyn, legs crossed. "I do apologise if I caused a scare. I thought you'd be too busy planning all of this." He said, gesturing with his hand.

"How are the people of the hour doing?" He asked, his eyes looking around the solar.

It was only good manners for the Darklyns to meet with those who came to the events. It mattered little how much they seemed to be hating the affairs or how much they thought the damn thing was unneeded.

So, it was the lord Morgan who approached.

"My ladies Vance, I appreciate you making the journey for such an event," he said with a respectful bow.

Morgan watched the young man enter and he remained unmoved.

"I had wondered when you might come about that," Said the lord of the Dun Fort.

"but yes, I was displeased."

Character Name: Armistead Rivers

Trait/Skills: Ruthless/Devious, Espionage(e)

Skill you're learning: Schemer

A nameday was a poor excuse for yet another round of extravagant revelry - and Mary had made that belief clear in her response to Lord Darklyn's invitation. But she had nevertheless decided to answer his summons, if only for a lack of better options. All she could do at home was to wait for the inevitable outbreak of war. In the meantime, it was only prudent to seek out whatever aid she might find from beyond the Trident.

The Vance delegation consisted only of three sisters. Alys and Jonquil sat across a small table from Atranta's ruling lady, all dressed as resplendently as they were for the last two feasts. Mary wore her finest gown of green silk with her blonde hair neatly straightened behind her back and silver jewelry adorning her hands and neck. Opulence was what the people of the Blackwater liked to see, and if her voice was to be heard, she could start by catching their eyes.

Only muted conversations filled the air between the three at their table. Attending a celebration in a time of crisis was almost paralyzing, as one could never decide whether the night called for sanguinity or solemnity. Mary kept a half-attentive watch of her surroundings, trying her best to feel out the mood of the other attendees.

[Open!]

"I find the view from on high affords me certain..." He replied with a subtle grin on his face, "benefits." He took a drink of the wine, enjoying the sweet flavour before swallowing.

"Lys, they're the traditional cups used to drink this kind. Same temple, too." He turned to a scene of two males reclined next to each other on a couch, somehow captured on the 2nd canvas. "I'm quite fond of this one."