|Summary:||Herbs and First Impressions.|
|Town Square — Stonebridge|
|The surrounding terrain has several small gullies and streams that feed into the waterfront area just adjacent to the town square, the sails of the boats visible over the tops of the buildings. The square is floored in the same heavy stone that the east docks and castle are constructed of while the buildings are a mix of the stone, wood, and mortar. There are quite a few fish vendors with their fragrant catches for sale among groups of tables which tend to be busy most of the time.|
|29 December 288|
Just a note: Sorry! This log doesn't actually fit the timeline because of confusion and mistakes on our part, so it doesn't actually make sense or relate to the current events occurring in the game. I've removed it from the 'RP Logs' page because of this. So if you've stumbled across it elsewhere, feel free to read it and enjoy (because it was fun) but know it bears no actual weight in the game. Cheers!
There is an edge to the populace today, the first whispers and stories of the attack on the Roost are hinted to be followed by bodies of those who have escaped the carnage. The citizens of Stonebridge go about their duties quickly, wasting little time for chatter beyond the gossip of what may be to come to them as well. Ironborn. The word hangs thick in air. Having spent some time going over the apothocarial stocks of the Tower and her own as well, Danae walks through the square laden with a heavy baskets of local herbs, dressed practically for the task. One of her two guard carry a similarly heavy load, struggling with the shape as the lady adjusts her own tiredly. It does not hurt to be prepared.
Knight that he nominally is, Harlyn ought to be preparing for battle. Instead, he is also using his guards not for protection, but as weight bearers as he scours the market for the less dearly priced supplies and veritably buys 'em up. Herbs are among their burdens, in fact. "I think," he says to a guard as he incidentally nears Danae, "we shall do well enough. Once we purchase a measure of salt or few. Siege or no siege."
The small blonde lady comes to a pause near the tweedy man, regarding him with crisp blue gaze as she adjusts the burdens in her arms. "My apologies for the interruption, my lord, but I could not help overhearing," Danae says, tipping her head to one side. "But, do you really think so?"
"Yes," says Harlyn with easy confidence, his grey eyes mild and amused as he meets her gaze. "Monetarily, that is, assuming the Ironborn do not completely run us over."
"Perhaps, provided so long that it is not a long seige," Danae allows, blonde head marking her easily as no Riverlander. "Do you think that they might? I have not heard of them attacking so far inland as this, even by the route of a river."
"They might. And if they do not, refugees are good coin." Harlyn's laugh is swift and light, and comes just before a sudden sobriety. "They might come, however. After all, should they take only part of the river alone, we have a ready water route to reach them in turn."
"Any counter-attack on our end should need to come with warning. They are quick, it is not so unlikely that they might come over land…if not the norm," Danae notes pragmatically, frown small and mild. It is unbecoming of a lady to scowl, whatever the circumstance. "My apologies, my lord. I speak without introduction, I am Danae of Westerling." She doesn't bother with a curtsey as laden as she is, tipping her chin in a polite nod.
Harlyn executes a small bow himself. "I am Harlyn of House Haigh. The pleasure is all mine, my lady."
"A small pleasure as it is under the circumstances, Lord Haigh," Danae offers with a courteous half-smile. "You are preparing for yourself, then?"
"Mm?" Harlyn glances back idly to his two guards. "For my house, really. I have the charge of their financial interests."
"Quite. I see you plan for the potentials then," Danae notes, adjusting her basket as she looks to his smaller collection of herbs. "A wise choice."
"One does try to look ahead." Harlyn says, his smile half-faded as he looks at her herbs. "It seems that you are preparing as well."
"Ah, yes. It is well to supply the stock of the place you are staying in the case of a raid — I have some minor knowledges," Danae explains sweetly. "So, I chose to make myself useful as such."
"If there should be no attack, such herbs will be useful to sell to refugees," Harlyn says with a second glance back at his guards. "And isn't it nice to be useful? Would that more women had your initiative."
"It is likely that they might, yes," Danae agrees, manner pleasant as she watches Harlyn with an appraising eye. "I think many ladies should feel similarly, we all do as we shall."
"Shall is all very well. But there is duty, too," Harlyn says, quite watching Danae back with a bit of brightness in his eye. "And then there is the matter of what we must do. Some have fewer musts than others."
"I should think that duty would fall under the handle of shall as well as must. One's duty is not a matter of choice, once it is has been given the choice to accept it has already occurred," Danae replies unflinchingly. "It is true that some have those fewer musts."
Harlyn lifts one hand. "There's no need to argue semantics. It is good that you are acting in the good of your house, and that is all that matters."
Danae lifts her brows slightly, then shakes her head. It is not her own house she is acting the good of, rather favoring the one she is visiting. "And you as well. Are you able to find everything which you need?"
It is possibly Harlyn has either spoken clumsily, or sees the two acts as both serving one's house, albeit less directly for one. Or both! Why not! "Yes, my lady. Now," he executes another slight bow, "I did come to purchase goods, not try the nerves of a good noblewoman, so I shall take my leave. Ah, shall, not must," he adds, with a swift smile.
"You are not trying, my good Lord. I believe that we both may be afflicted with whispers that have taken the town," Danae demurs quickly. His note of 'shall' and not 'must' draws a quirk of a smile to her lips, she dips her head gentilely, following the motion with the slightest of curtsies. "My apologies as well, I took you from your business. It has been a pleasure, Lord Haigh."
"The pleasure was yet again mine, my lady. May the Ironborn not afflict your dreams, nor your host House," Harlyn says and with a third and final bow, makes his way back through the market.