|Summary:||Tyroan calls together many of the military minds of Stonebridge.|
|Related Logs:||None Directly|
|Map Room, Tordane Tower|
|This room used to be the smallest of the guest rooms in Tordane Tower, but all of the previous furniture has been removed save a small side-table that holds two or three tankards and a pitcher of bitter Mire beer. Several other small tables have been added around the walls, holding a selection of books and parchments brought in from the library. Additionally, a standing table is centered in the room, surrounded by tall stool-like chairs built to its height. Atop that table is a large map of Stonebridge and its surrounding area, with colored blocks placed across it in the troop positions from the last Battle of Stonebridge.|
|23 November, 289|
Tyroan has had the tall chairs pulled out of the room he's claimed for himself, leaving nothing to do but stand around the big table. Not the most comfortable meeting space, but certainly one designed to get things done quickly in. He leans against the edge of the table, his forearms braced against the heavy wood and his gnarled fingers interlaced before him. His squire stands by the tankards and pitcher, and a full tankard stands off Tyroan's elbow. Most of the ledgers have been cleared away, but the map and the little wooden blocks representing troop deployments remain.
Having entered silently not long ago is Hoekenn. The squire having been busy and since there might already be people in the map room he had snuck inside and just drifted off to the side. Trying not to draw too much attention to himself. Eyes settling on Tyroan.
Now fully back on his feet after his wounds, Karel steps into the room now, pausing for a few moments as he sees the chairs having been removed. Nodding to the people present, before he looks over to Tyroan. "M'lord," he greets the man, a bit softly now.
Hareth of the Mire stands somewhere near the wall behind Karel in silence, a bit of blonde hair sticking out from below his helmet. He lets his gaze wander about the room without moving his head, letting it linger for a bit on the books on the small tables around the walls before it continues to the map on the table and those little colored blocks. Raising a brow at the squire sneaking into the room but remaining silent about it, the guardsman's blue eyes flicker with curiosity as he sees the Captain of the Guard enter - finally - and he tips his helmet in a silent greeting.
Several levy serjeants, household knights, and the two Guard serjeants filter in quickly enough, the knights and Guardsmen bellying immediately up to the table while the levy men hang back a bit. Tyroan nods to each one as they enter, responding with a quick murmur of greeting to each, including, "Ser Karel. Good to see you up and about," "Guardsman Hareth, welcome," and "Don't be fucking shy, lad, step on up." Once the heart of the military force of Stonebridge has gathered — save for Tyroan's own sons and his nephew — he takes a swig of his beer and sets the tankard down with a slightly loud clatter, "Right then. Got a few points to cover, then we'll see to any fucking business you've all got to bring up. First up, the fuckwit. Lord Rafferdy may be fucking innocent of hurting Stonebridge, but that doesn't mean he didn't fucking try, and he picked the wolfshead as his champion. Until we're sure of his loyalties, he's barred from Stonebridge. Any questions on that?"
Hoekenn smiles and offers a small bow to Tyroan and any others already in the room as he entered. Though of course the one to Tyroan being deepest. Need to greet him as is proper towards someone of his stature. The table is given a glance as well. Studying it as well as the map upon it. As for the question about Rafferdy, Hoekenn does seem thoughtful for a long moment before speaking up. "My lord, do you have anyone with him? To see his loyalty over time, I mean." He looks a bit uncertain that he should even have asked. But as usual he spoke even though he perhaps shouldn't have.
"Only one question, m'lord. Should he turn up in town, what do you want us to do with him? Escort him out of town, or take him into custody?" Karel asks that a bit softly, before he looks over at his son at the question, nodding a little bit now.
Hareth listens to Tyroan's first point concerning the traitor, Lord Rafferdy, with an unmoving expression, only the grim glow in his eyes hinting at his feelings on the matter. And so he offers without hesitation a shake of his head in reply to the Steward's question. No, the order is quite clear - and only logical, given the recent developments. Hoekenn's question seems reasonable though at first - if Rafferdy's loyalties are to be put to the test it would be of interest who might be capable of such a task. Although Hareth doubts a disloyal man can regain his loyalty by any means - and so there is a second shake of his head, this time regarding Lord Rafferdy. Karel's remark makes Hareth raise his head a bit, as this is a point which pertains to his duties as a guardsman.
Tyroan shakes his head at Hoekenn, "No. If he's at the fucking Mire, they can keep an eye on his worthless ass there. If he runs off to follow his fucking savior, that's pretty fucking damning so far as I'm concerned." The Steward's squire pops up at elbows, first at Karel's, then those of the other knights, then the Guardsmen, then finally the squires and levy men, to inquire silently if they want any beer, or some of the watered wine also provided. Tyroan continues on, shifting his attention to Karel, "I don't want a fucking scene. Just turn him the fuck away if he's spotted at the edge of town. If you find him in town, the Guard or one of the knights'll escort him the fuck out of town. I don't want him imprisoned unless he's breaking the fucking law."
Hoekenn nods and then falls silent. Not speaking more of that. He won't say more on the matter. Even if he finds it odd how they hid behind what the law said before but not this time. Not that good with these social games and so on, so he just keeps his mouth shut. Being in here to try and learn more than actually contributing perhaps. He is only a squire after all.
Karel nods as he hears that, remaining quiet for now as he listens. Looking over to Hareth and then the others from the guard present for a few moments, then focusing back on Tyroan.
The Nayland guardsman gives another nod as the Steward seems to share his opinion on the matter, although he might not put it the same way - and with that same amount of cursing. Hareth's blue eyes follow the squire inquiring after the desired beverages for a while, and finally when it is his turn a light smirk appears on the guardsman's face as he points to the pitcher with the famous Mire beer. "Some o'that, if you please, Master." He is from the Mire after all. No way that he would /ever/ drink watered wine if not ordered to do so.
No one puts things with the same amount of cursing that Tyroan does. Well, almost no one. The aging Steward takes another drink of his beer, grunting once, "Next thing up is the Ashwoods. That shitstain obviously just wanted to tweak our fucking noses, so how should we respond?" The squire pours for Hareth, and the other men who request drinks, even as Tyroan straightens up, pressing his right fist into his left palm to pop the knuckles one after another, "Obviously, just fucking invading them's out. But what the fuck do you all think we should do? Militarily, diplomatically, whatever." Tyroan has always shown himself to be one who listens to ideas from others, even if he doesn't always take them.
Hoekenn doesn't speak first for once. Deciding to stand and listen for now. Not even noticing the squire that was pouring the drinks. Only when he is actually approached does he look to the man and blink before shaking his head. Opting not to drink for now. Looking between the people in the room. If perhaps mostly on Tyroan. Trying to focus on actually listening and not starting to focus on something unrelated.
Considering that question now, looking a bit thoughtful at the moment, Karel finally shrugs a bit. "Perhaps that's what he wanted with doing what he did…" Shaking his head a little bit. "Maybe he wants us to do something, trying to trick us into doing something. I don't know."
Sipping from the offered tankard, Hareth's mien grows a bit pensive as he ponders the Steward's question, and as thinking maybe is not one of his strongest areas, a frown appears, while he clenches his left hand to a fist. No, the guardsman has no answers at the moment and relaxes slightly as he hears Karel's reply. Hareth is a simple guard after all and not used to the twisted game of politics and intrigues. And takes another sip of the tankard, as he awaits Tyroan's reaction.
As Tyroan's young squire slips back to his place against the wall, the Steward himself focuses in on Karel, nodding his head, "If we went and ransacked fucking Highfield, we'd look like right shits. But there's nothing to say that we couldn't take some step short of that. He's definitely pissed in our breakfast, and there's no fucking chance that I won't piss right the fuck back." He grunts softly, looking around the room again, "None of you have any suggestions for military actions short of all-fucking-out-war? I'll talk to the Maester and the nobles about diplomatic and trade steps."
Hoekenn watches them all. Nodding to his father's words as well as Tyroan's own words. Not being one to play dirty so he won't really suggest something like that. Though he does tilts his head. "The boarders. Securing the land a bit perhaps." Perhaps in the process provoking the Ashwoods. Although if Hoekenn thought of that or if he thought that it is better than nothing is hard to tell. Especially as he shrugs soon after his words.
Karel looks a bit thoughtful right now, shaking his head a little to indicate that he's not sure about any suggestions for now.
Still thinking very hard about a appropriate reaction to the Ashwoods, Hareth nods to Tyroan's words. "Aye, we should take some steps, Ser." Hoekenn's words seem to put a spark into Hareth's mind and his blue eyes start to gleam with increasing enthusiasm. "The lad is right, Ser. We could send them away at the edge of Stonebridge, deny them passage through town, Ser. Or make them pay a fee, Ser. They wouldn't like that, I'm sure."
Tyroan looks over to Hoekenn, listening without comment and nodding once before he shifts his attention to Hareth. "Some patrols up around the borders wouldn't be a bad idea, lad." He points with two fingers over toward the Guardsman next, "And jacking their tariffs through the fucking roof's another option." His lips curl into a hint of a dry smirk, "I don't think there'll be many Ashwoods who want to sleep under our fucking roof any time soon. If they start swarming though, you can be damned sure I'll start throwing them the fuck out."
Hoekenn falls silent as Hareth takes over after him. He does offer one glance towards his father before looking back to the talking ones. Perhaps missing part of the conversation but still seeming to follow along good enough. For now just letting his gaze jump back and forth and listen.
Expression a bit thoughtful at the moment, Karel listens in quiet for now. Nodding a little bit to himself for the moment.
Hareth listens to Tyroan, looking quite pleased that his idea seems to be actually considered by the Steward. And raising his tankard to Tyroan's final remark about the Ashwoods, he says: "Let us drink to that, Ser." before he empties the tankard and puts it down on one of the little tables to resume his stance as a guardsman, a Nayland and proud of it.
Tyroan raises up his tankard at Hareth's call to drink, nodding his head and taking a swig, "Anyone else have any business to bring up? Otherwise, I'll let you get back to your night off." With his sons and nephew guarding the Tower, he's given the knights, Guards, and levy men the evening off — for the meeting and some relaxation.
Hoekenn shakes his head about having anything else to mention. Not having taken anything to drink he only smiles and raises a hand in good gesture. He will wait for all else to leave before making his own exit. So for now he is still standing around inside the map room.
Karel shakes his head a little bit as he listens now. "Nothing to bring up at the moment, m'lord," he offers after a few moments of pause.
Tyroan nods his head, "Off with you all then. Stay safe. Let me know if anything comes up." And with that, he gestures to his squire, who runs out to get one of the ledgers waiting in the room next door. "Me, I've got another long-ass night of poking at fucking numbers." That dry smirk returns, "Just remember to be glad you've got your jobs, not mine."
Hoekenn smiles at Tyroan though still blinking at the man's words. Though he will exit along with all the rest. "Be well, my lord." Is the last thing he offers before he disappears out through the doors and along to some other place.
"Every day, m'lord," Karel replies to the part about being glad he doesn't have