|Fishermen Family and Frolicks|
|Summary:||Discussion at the Rockcliff ranges between the Terrick docks, Lord Bolland and the first few months of his rule and the up-coming ball at Stonebridge.|
|Related Logs:||Some references to Coming and Going|
|Rockcliff Inn, Terrick's Roost|
|The Rockcliff Inn is one of the better inns within the town and it shows with the well-lit interior and the relative cleanliness to the other locations in Terrick's Roost. The tables are polished with oils and the floor regularly swept. A set of booths towards a darker rear of the Inn's bottom floor, just beneath the staircase, are where whores generally socialize and eye prospects from when not waiting tables. Signs over the undersized bar area advertise prices for ales and wines as well as several different choices of food to be served at the small eating area by the bar or in the main open area in its comfortable seating. A door behind the bar leads to the kitchen and cellar while another near the staircase leads to a private room that would appear to be off-limits to the 'wait staff' except for food and drink service.|
|Mon Feb 11, 290|
The Tavern is full of sailors fishermen at the moment in what could only be described as something close to approaching a formal meeting the chairperson in question of said gathering being none other than Lord Keenan Flashman Terrick. The scent of the sea and fish is overwhelming as is the stale musk of dried and not so dried ale. Booze heavy and disorderly even in their order a debate rages.
"Alright I will have silence people - let us voice our ideas one or at least two at a time!!" Keenan looks at a ledger that he has been writing in, "Okay now blue nosed Bart - what was it you were saying that the docks were in need of…" Aside to himself Keenan says, "If indeed they are ever finished."
Mortimer has so far, had a fairly uneventful day. The market has been busy but not troublesome and whatever turmoil may or may not be going on at the tower seems to be staying there. He needs a word with the barman though, nothing particularly urgent or pressing, just a quick follow up and usually this is a quiet enough time. As soon as he pushes the door open though he realises that today it's not quite so. Recognising most of the folk, and indeed the lord he offers Keenan a quick nod in greeting and a M'Lord" as he then starts to work threading his way through the crowd towards the bar.
"At least four cranes to offload cargo or business is going to go elsewhere," says blue nosed Bart in a coarse seafarers accent.
"Why not six or seven or eight?" Keenan asks noting down the request and taking a drink from his own ale. He also takes a moment to return Mortimer's nod but is mildly distracted at the moment.
It takes Mortimer a few moments to get to the bar and then, given the crowds waiting to be served, a good few moments more to attract the attention of the barman. A few words are muttered back and forth but there's too many waiting for drinks to spare for a longer chat and the man promises he'll make time when it dies down a bit. This not being an urgent matter, there's not a huge amount the deputy can do other than nod reluctantly before going to find himself a seat somewhere out of the way of the sailors.
Keenan finishes up his meeting rather briskly and then heads off to the bar - there are a few orders of business that he has to go through and then an obligatory round of back slapping that he has to tolerate. At least one drinking contest is narrowly avoided - then he finds himself next to Mortimer. "Master Trevelyan," he says by way of greeting, "sailors and whalers - more interesting than tailors?" Keenan states as much as asks - though the phrase appears to be rather rhetorical in character.
With the sailors starting to drift back to work, or some of them at least, Mortimer glances back over to the barman. Still too busy with those that have stayed it seems, but then Keenan arrives next to him and he greets the Terrick with a polite nod, "M'Lord." Casting his glance around the inn he then replies with a faint smile, "Might be on the generous side to call what they catch whales m'Lord, but if you say so."
"I am in a generous mood what can I say." Looking at the sheriff, "And how has the day treated you? You often look tired Deputy Sheriff?" Keenan on the other hand was a relentless bundle of energy - perhaps even maladaptively so. To the point of mania.
"Do I m’Lord? Mortimer answers, one eyebrow rising slightly in surprise. He doesn't feel particularly tired although he certainly doesn't have the same level of energy that seems to be present in Keenan. "I guess there's nothing for it but a quiet night in then." Later, once the day is over that is. "All has been quiet in town so far," he replies, "hopefully it'll stay that way too, although there's talk of a few lightfingered professionals in the area. Passing through on the way to Stonebridge for their ball like as not. Still, we've had no trouble from them so far."
"There will always be petty thieves I suppose. I've always thought our ways of dealing with them too harsh. Branding locks a lot of young folk into the life. Better to manacle them and have them work off several times the value of what they have stolen. No greater deterrent than honest labour. And being stuck in one place against your will for a time." Sipping his ale, "But you're the expert of course."
"It's your Lord Father's law m'Lord, not mine," Mortimer replies with a faint shrug, "I just catch 'em." Nodding in the direction of the remaining sailors he asks, passing the time before he can finish the business he came here to do, "successful meeting? With 'em all in here together I was wondering if we were tempting a brawl. Hardly a week goes by without some allegation of tampering with nets or the like."
"I was just grilling those who know better than myself the local waters for some more information - Seven willing that we ever get the docks finished. It's bad for the region to have the only serious port in Seagard. What happens to trade if that gets destroyed or if we get additional traffic and Seagard can’t handle it. Or if we have another food shortage and need to bring supplies in by sea." Keenan shrugs, "all these things I worry about."
"Shame you weren't here when the Flints were m'Lord" Mortimer answers, a faintly troubled from crossing his features just for a moment. "They were talking about putting a port up in what was Camden land. Abandoned now I hear, what with the plague that struck them." He thinks for a moment longer, then adds, "I know Lord Justin was looking into getting the building started again though, after the Ironborn destroyed the last attempt. If you catch him around I'm sure he'd be happy to share what he has."
"Another abortive plan," Keenan sighs, "Much like our abortive murder investigations and abortive marital engagements…" conceding, "At least you and the other soldiers were able to turn the missing children thing around." After a sip of ale, "You know I often feel as though despite all of his boasts of competency Lord Ser Bolland and my immediate family are all taking a nap in the back of this great big cart called the Roost. Lady Anais having dared to try to steer the cart for a little while is receiving the punishment of being stepped over for all her efforts. Will I share a similar fate to hers I wonder? Or am I too much of a cunt to let that happen to me?"
"I wouldn't call the investigation abortive m'Lord," Mortimer replies, frowning a little at the suggestion, "We caught those responsible." He nods briefly in recognition of the comment about the missing children then has to bite back a reply to the last of Keenan's words. However seemingly informal a conversation there are still things that should not be said. Instead he takes a moment to compose himself again and offers a diplomatic, "I've only met your Lord Father for a few moment's m'Lord, but I trust Lord Mallister's judgement."
"Yes Lord Mallister giving us the right to step over a few dead bodies and declare ourselves better than our predecessors. Funny system that. And even if you disapproved would you tell me? There is as much scandal surrounding our branch of the Terricks - there are merely more of us living. Given time we might catch up to our predecessors and self destruct quite spectacularly. I'm well positioned to enjoy the ride." Keenan was as cheerfully cynical as ever. "What do you think of Anais being stepped over anyway?"
"It's not my place to say m'Lord," is Mortimer's answer, tone and body language making it quiet evident that this is really not a topic of conversations he is comfortable discussing right now. He doesn't look round to see how many ears are listening in, but he reckons he has a fair idea what the main topic of conversation among the sailors will be for the next few days.
"I think you get the message that I think it stinks anyway. The same old nonsense is going on. Too much importance is placed on a dower from the Mallisters which once spent will be gone forever. And mark my words it will be spent on something that is fungible and temporary. And in the end we'll be back to being broke again." All of this is rhetorical as Keenan doesn't expect Mortimer to comment. "So I might as well blow some smoke up the collective arse fo the sailors here and at least pretend that we are going to do something about the docks." He raises his mug to the sailors and they raise theirs back - the last revelation plainly being that even they knew that Keenan could only be half serious about addressing their concerns.
"I'm sure they are grateful for your efforts m'Lord," Mortimer offers as sincerly as he can before glancing to the aforementioned sailors as he does so. With the barman still busy though there doesn't seem to be a chance yet to get his own business done andleave so he attempts to steer the conversation onto topics less likely to get him in trouble. "Will you be attending the ball in Stonebridge?" he asks as he spots the public invitation nailed up behind the bar, "I heard the Captain of the Guard was wondering how many men he'd need to send."
Keenan shrugs, "Perhaps - I could wear my Bravosi hat, the purple one with the broad brim that could protect a small family from a typhoon. "Not sure what mask I'd wear. Do you think the Naylands hate even our branch of the Terricks enough for extra guardsmen to be warranted?"
Mortimer shakes his head slightly "Only enough for safe escort on the roads m'Lord. The loss of Lord Aleister and his Lady Sister from Highfield is reminder enough that they are still not as safe as they once were." Masks and hats he’s has no idea about really, and so he offers nothing more than a simple shrug to those remarks. "I am sure that it will be a fine event though, and I believe that at least Lady Faline was considering attending."
"Ah yes - lady Miranda was lovely - I met her in Highfield. And I am sure that whatever was behind those murders she was an innocent who got embroiled in it all. Such a shame. She had a wonderful voice." Keenan seems wistful, "I doubt I have that many enemies - here on the cape anyway. But I'll consider it if only to chaperone Faline. And meet some of the other hobbldy hoy nobility. Perhaps I should have a Bolland mask made and go as my father?"
"I am sure that your Lady Sister would be glad of your company," Mortimer replies, giving himself more time to think of a response to Keenan's latest mask idea. "I must admit m'Lord that I've no idea how long such a thing would take to make. Like as not the master leatherworker would need time to do such a piece justice."
"I had his face together with a floral hat placed on the prow of my ship till my mother Tressa made me remove it. It is not so complex as you would believe - though I think a lot of people would find it disturbing." Keenan laughs, "Or I could dress up as a wight - although I think Ser Trajan Fenster has that costume pretty much down pat."
Mortimer thinks on that a moment then shrugs slightly, "I'm not sure how many would recognise it as your Lord Father's face m'Lord. I don't believe he had stepped much outside of the tower before Lord Tully's summons." He's certainly only seen the new Lord of the Roost once and that was only a brief encounter. "I've heard Ser Fenster is a distinctive man, people'd likely recognise him."
"Yes indeed then they would know him when they saw him by my mask. I could make his visage famous," Keenan quips about his authoritarian father. "Yes Lord Fenster is distinctive - I can say honestly the only time I would be jealous of him would be at a masque where he would not have to spend any money. Don't tell him I said that though or he may endeavor to make me look just as handsome as he is."
"I won't breathe a word of it m'Lord," Mortimer promises. An easy promise to make given as he has no intentions of getting into conversation with the Fenster anyway. "Surely though he'd need to spend more on a mast, as it'd need to cover more to hide the fact that it was him?" Before the conversation can progress further though the barman appears, apparently with a few moments and so Mortimer turns to Keenan and asks, "if you'll excuse me m'Lord?"
Keenan looks up from his ale with amusement, "Keen to get back to your family? I'll not keep you," the young lord rests his head on the bar.
Mortimer nods briefly to the barman as he answers Keenan, "Work m'Lord, keeping track of the comings and goings of those individuals I mentioned earlier." Having received her permission to depart though he moves along to a quite spot of the bar and spends a few minutes in discussion with the man on the other side and once that conversation is done he's turning and heading for the door once more.