|The Party Starts in the Roost|
|Summary:||The party that just bugged out of Stonebridge arrives at The Roost.|
|Related Logs:||Bugging Out Before the Crackdown|
|Town Square, The Roost|
|The town square of Terrick's Roost was once considered well-kept. The stone streets run right up to the building fronts around the edge and the locals have kept the spaces between free of grass and weeds that might otherwise sprung up between them, although dark streaks of stubborn soot have crawled in between the stones. There are several homes and shops located here which show the scars and cinders of the sacking of the town at Ironborn hands. The ruin of the town's Sept can also be seen from here with its ornate stone front rising above the surrounding structures just down the cobblestone road.|
|06 June, 289|
The pace set by the knights was far from leisurely, though the exit from Stonebridge was done as discreetly as possible considering the numbers and different Houses involved. With the carriage, the party could only travel so fast and so the sun is low in the horizon as the group arrives at Terrick's Roost after eight hours on the road.
Stirring uncomfortably, Muirenn has long since thrown off her quilt and used it to pillow her head against the side of the carriage. Beneath she wears a simple, for her, gown of black with only a few layers of lace trimming the skirt. Sleep was impossible, the interior of the carriage stifling and bumpy. Silently, the girl watches outside the small windows ceaselessly scanning the woods as they pass.
Kamron would probably be riding alongside the carriage the whole time, but with such a large party, and such bold bandits, he's instead been riding ahead and behind, now making sure there are no ambushes ahead and now dropping back behind to check for anyone following. By the time he slows back to match the carriage's pace, his horse Three has probably ridden at least half again the distance of the other horses, "We're almost there. I'm sure you can smell the sea now." That's enough to bring a faint smile to his features, which is visible, now that his helmet is slung on his hip.
What with her palfrey being solid, Saffron has resigned herself to a little rounsey that sort of bounds around as it trots. Hopefully her father will be wise and send along a horse with Timmen's return so she does not have to pick through what selection the Roost may have. It is no offense to her cousin, of course, but horses are not cheap. She looks up at Kam's words, and she nods as she can already spy the scorched and sooty stones of the town square ahead. She looks happy to be returning to the Roost, but something still weighs heavy on her shoulders. "I hope we won't be an unwanted surprise," she says as she was unable to get a message to her cousin before they left.
Garett may of forgotten about his horse, but his horse has not. The big black fresian warhorse, named Regret had seemed to greet the Knight fondly and even the man seemed to recognize it, if only slightly. Armor was a different issue. While he might be able to get by without his leg being splinted and braced, he's not ready to slap on armor on it yet. So for now, instead of wearing his entire set, he decides instead on wearing armor's chestplate, battle skirt, and bracers. It's enough, omitting the extra weight of the entire thing. With his shield taken up against his back, he took up the only weapon he's used for the majority of life. A large, heavy flanged mace that Briallyn had told him that had come to call Guilt. Near the front, he walks Regret next to Kamron and his horse. "I…remember that smell." Of course he would, he's from the Crag.
The dappled and spirited mare that Briallyn affectionately refers to as Arrow is saddled and prepared once they reached the stables. It is Regret who takes a longer time before they're off; the stallion will have little to do with anyone beyond his master, whom he hasn't seen in weeks. They meet up with the group in due time, and the Lady Haigh remains close to the half-armored Westerling Lord by keeping the energetic mare alongside Regret.
Briallyn's affections aside, she's quite intent on the forest about them during their journey, never tiring of it, it seems. Her own entourage flanks her, her Septa and handmaiden on plump ponies trailing behind with a scant handful of Haigh-liveried guardsmen. A wagon brings up the rear, loaded with a variety of belongings of the Haigh women. "It's the ocean," she offers softly, but warmly, as Garett remarks upon the smell of the salt and sea-laden air about them at their entry into the town itself.
Brightening, Muirenn whispers "Home…" Images of her own bath, her own bed, her room are almost tangible they are so close. Delighted, she suddenly looks sad and gives a sigh, "Septa, do you think they will find Pryderi? I miss him." At the sight of her old riding paths and grounds, she turns her head away.
Kamron smiles just a bit at Saffron's worry, "I'm sure that we're a few more than were expected back from Stonebridge, Lady Saffron, but I bet it won't be too much trouble. Have to expect a few visits now and then." Settling into his saddle, he moves easily with Three's stride, "I do love that smell. The thing I missed most about my time as a squire, and the first part of the Rebellion, was the lack of salt air." That's apparently for the Westerlings, Haighs, Baneforts, and Mallisters alike. He chuckles just a little, "I wonder if the quintain is still up." He glances over to the other knights and would-be knights in the group, "With so many beautiful young ladies about, we'll have to work extra hard to keep them entertained."
"Ser Garett," Saffron says to the Knight as she guides her rounsey forward a bit to speak with ease. "I'm surprised we haven't met before, to be honest… the Crag is not all that far from the Banefort." She looks over toward Kamron with a growing smile. "Have you ever really struggled to entertain me, Ser Kamron? Besides, I'm sure just waiting to hear the news from Stonebridge will be enough to keep us all entertained." She says this no with a bit more ease since they have left that place behind.
Having stayed mostly silent on the road, silently pondering the news of the current happenings, and maybe a few more things, Martyn looks a bit more relaxed at the smell of the sea. "It has a certain nice thing to it, the smell," he remarks, before he offers a half-smile at Kamron's comment about the quintain. "Not to mention that we probably need to sharpen our skills there as well, right?" Looking around for a few moments as he goes quiet again.
"So…dancing on our hands, then?" Garett remarks over to Kamron, a reference from an earlier convsation. "That reminds me. Bri," he glances over to the Haigh Lady. "I bet five silvers that Ser Kamron here couldn't dance on his hands." Then as a stage-whisper, he adds, "You'll loan me five silvers, won't you?" Hopefully, at some point, he'll start getting his own allowance sent to him again, now that his family has found out that he isn't, y'know, dead an all. "From what I've read in my journal, Lady Saffron, I left home shortly before I turned ten years old. I trained in Winterfell for a handfull of years as a squire. I don't remember anything from it besides what I've read. I've seen many entries about how cold it was."
Kamron laughs lightly at the banter from his cousin, Saffron, and Garett, waving off Garett's worry, "I'll give my shoulder at least another couple of weeks to recover before I relieve you of your coin." He nods to Martyn, "Yes, we could both rather use it before the Tourney at Seagard." Saffron gets his attention next, "I believe you're the only one who can say whether my antics have entertained you or not, My Lady Saffron." Running his fingers through his hair, he shrugs helplessly, "All I can do is struggle to win your approval and that of those around you." And then he blinks and looks back to Garett, perking up, "You squired at Winterfell? Did you know Lord Stark well?" There might be just a touch of hero worship there, even if Ned Stark is only a year or two older than Kam.
Thundering hooves echo on the road somewhere in the distance behind the party.
Dark green eyes flick over her shoulder towards the Septa trailing a distance behind. There is nothing kindly or attractive about Septa Darna; a dour, overly plump woman with a sour expression and beady, judgmental eyes. But, she is a fair distance, and a sly smile curls the young woman's lips. "Five silver, my Lord? Of course. For a kiss." Briallyn looks like a cat in cream, but she is quick to smooth the suggestive expression from her face before anyone else is the wiser for it. One doeskin glove hand reaches for the saddle beneath her, slim fingers fussing quickly with something there before dislodging a small velvet pouch. She waits quietly, pouch poised in the palm of her hand, as she listens and watches the discussion between Ser Kamron and the Westerling knight.
"Cold and far from the sea, Ser Garett," Saffron agrees with a soft note. "But, I give you credit for surviving Winterfell. I'm not sure I would do as well. I —" And whatever she has to say is drawn up short as her rambunctious rounsey leaps forward into a quick trot, pulling at its bridle with excitement. Perhaps it is the hooves thundering behind them, making the mount want to run to avoid or race. Saffron releases a slight gasp of surprise, but she gives the reins a hard pull in order to slow the strange horse down again. She inhales sharply, looking a little ruffled. Her eyes then fall to Kamron and she offers him a sudden smile. "I thought I already made it clear that I approve of you, Ser Kamron." Then she looks toward Briallyn at her suggestion, and she bites her lip to hide the slight grin.
It might be worry, maybe even paranoia. Or it might be something else entirely. The fact remains that as soon as he hears the sound of hooves in the distance behind them, Martyn turns his horse around in that direction now, one hand going to his sword just in case there's something out there that he needs to use it for. "You all heard that, didn't you?" he says, after a few long moments. Still keeping his gaze on the area out there.
The thud of the hooves gets nearer and louder. An unarmored figure appears on the horizon, seeming to be unaccompanied.
Kamron half-turns at the sound of hooves from behind, but then a nearer horse starts forward, and Kamron urges his own mount forward in an attempt to catch up with Saffron's surging rounsey. It's only a second or two of speed, and then he's reining up again too, guiding Three a bit closer to the Banefort and her horse. "Sounds like just a single horse… it's no threat…" The words are spoken loudly enough to reach out to most of the rest of the group, although his voice quiets a bit as he looks back to the redhead, "Are you alright, My Lady?" He waits for a response before looking away again, turning back toward Martyn and offering a dry chuckle, "Yes… we all heard the horse, coz.
The guards around the wagon, carriage, and nobles ahorse shift and turn their gazes outward for the most part, put off just as much as Martyn by the sound of the horseman, even when it shows itself as a single unarmored man. Apparently they're feeling overprotective, even within sight of The Roost.
"To say that I 'met' Lord Stark is an exaggeration." Garett notes. "We spoke a few times in brief passing, again, from what I read in my journal, but it was never anything grand. I was in the same room as him during feasts and celebrations, but so was everyone else and Ser Tristan Stark apparently was a man who my focus was usually set on." he says, though the words seem a bit odd for him to say. Probably because he's just reciting things he read from his journal. "Maybe if I remember I could give you a better telling at some point." At Bri's gamble, he eyes her slyly. "My Lady, that's pretty daring of you. Thankfully I'd like to think myself as a pretty daring man. And if that is the price I have to pay well, shit, I guess I'm just going to have to pay for it." Urging Regret to sidestep to Arrow, he leans over to give Bri that agreed upon smooch, until his ears react to the sounding of the hooves, and juuuust as he's about to give her what she wants, he turns away. "I did." he answers back to Martyn, turning his over his shoulder to try and get a view of what's approaching them.
A hand of greeting is lifted as the horse and rider reach the outskirts of the party. A half-bow as the horse is pulled up, "Begging your pardon my lord, I am sent to deliver a message to the Lady Mallister. Unfortunately your party departed in haste and the lady was missed." A bit disgruntled perhaps at the unexpected ride, the courier keeps a passive face as he looks over the members of the party on horseback.
"I'm alright," Saffron confirms quietly. She has tightened her fingers on the reins of her rounsey even while she tries to maintain a calm expression. Then as the courier makes himself known, she relaxes obviously in her saddle. It is almost as if she slumps under the release of the tension. She looks over toward Briallyn and Garett, offering the pair a warm smile. "As you were," she says with a small grin before she draws guides her horse up to walk beside Three.
"Good," Martyn replies, both to Kamron and Garett, before he studies the rider, hearing his words. Nodding a little bit to the man, he moves Miramis a bit further in the direction of the messenger. "Who sent the message?" he asks, before he adds, "If you hand it over, I'll deliver it to her." Sounding a bit cautious now, it would seem.
So close, so very close, and Briallyn looks absolutely tickled at the prospect of kissing the man. Leaning forward ever so slightly in her saddle, lips gently parted—and then, nothing. Disappointment is awash upon her face as Garett's attention is abruptly diverted. She straightens sharply in her saddle, dark green eyes shifting towards the lone rider with a carefully constructed facade that belies the faint irritation and regret beneath it. And then, they are far too surrounded for any further unladylike suggestions. So, Briallyn is content to stew for the moment, listening to the men about her.
Kamron nods slightly at Saffron's confirmation, slowing Three's pace just a bit to fall back nearer the carriage once more. Even as he begins to turn back toward the others, he murmurs softly, "You're safe here, My Lady. I swear it." His eyes remain on hers for a moment, and then he's finishing his turn and pasting a smile onto his face, responding to Garett, "A pity. I served under Lord Stark on the ride down to King's Landing and Storm's End. I was always disappointed I did not actually get to meet him more than in the most passing." He laughs softly, "If he remembers me in the slightest, it's undoubted as 'that damned fool Mallister.'" Which just goes to show how poorly he knows Lord Stark on a personal level.
"If it please your lordship, the message was to be delivered to her ladyship personally." The courier says in carefully neutral tones, apparently not willing to pass it off to the first person he sees who offers to 'give the letter to the lady'.
Struggling with the door of the carriage, Muirenn waves her Septa aside and steps out. The light is bright and the tall girl blinks, shading her eyes for a moment before lifting her chin and striding forward, hand outstretched. "I am Lady Mallister." There is a polite tilt of her head, "Thank you for your kindness in coming all this way to deliver it." Struggling to disguise her weakness and how much effort it is to walk just this far, she rests a seemingly casual hand upon Martyn's horse for support, fingers curling into the coarse mane.
"I think I was at Storm's End." Garett ponders for the moment. "I know my journal tells me I was at the Trident. But, then again, who -wasn't- at the Trident. Can't say I remember much of either, though." The matter of the couriser he leaves to Martyn or Kamron to handle, but probably the former, as Martyn being the brother. But now that he knows that the courier isn't here to do anything else but deliever a message, he assumes all is as well. And while everyone waits to see just what's going on with the letter, the Westerling quickly leans back over the other side and gives Bri a smooch on the cheek. "It'll just have to suffice, my Lady." he adds with a wink.
"Who is the message from?" Martyn asks once more, looking about to say something else when Muirenn makes her way out of the carriage, he closes his mouth again, as he looks to her very briefly, and then carefully back to the messenger. Also making sure that he keeps Miramis from doing anything as Muirenn takes hold of the horse's mane. "Easy, Miramis…" he mutters to it, under his breath.
Saffron squints curiously toward the courier and Martyn even as she continues her horse forward a bit. With Muirenn stretching out to receive the letter and Martyn ever so close, she is certain that if this lone courier is actually there to do them harm, he will be quickly dispatched. She looks forward just in time to spy that smooch to Briallyn's cheek, and she actually smiles a bit more earnestly as she continues to ride alongside Three and his rider. She listens to the ebb and flow of the conversation.
Dismounting, the dusty courier flourishes a courtly bow "My lady. Your thanks is welcome, but I was merely carrying out my duty." An unsealed piece of parchment is taken from his satchel…or rather a piece of parchment that once was sealed, but which seal is now broken.
Taking it, Muirenn frowns a touch and releases her hold on Miramis. "It seems to be from Lord Alric." she murmers up to her brother before flashing a glance at the courier, "It has been opened and read." she notes cooly.
Unabashed, the courier inclines his head and says honestly, "It has my lady, but not by myself, I vow." A hand is placed across his heart in an expression of honesty. Another bow, "My lords…ladies." and the courier mounts his steed and turns to go back the way he came, though at a much easier pace.
"You've not forgotten entirely who you are," Briallyn says cooly to the kiss upon her cheek, eyes narrowing briefly. But, a kiss is a kiss even if it lacks the ardor she would've preferred. She is quick to fish out a few silvers from the little drawstring velvet pouch, snagging Garett's hand from the reins of Regret long enough to deposit the scant coins into his hand. But, there might very well be more important things than kisses. "I do wonder what all that was about," she echoes along with everyone else's thoughs, gaze cast towards the carriage curiously.
Ilaria is mounted on her palfrey which dances nervously at the approach of another rider. She does her best to soothe the animal into stillness, placing herself behind Briallyn and Garett. She watches courier with undisguised curiosity, but when he remounts and rides away her body relaxes. Attention turns to Muirenn, and the young Haigh's brows knit together in concern. "Perhaps it was opened by guards before they let the man pass with his message?" she suggests before biting on the inside of her cheek to still her tongue. Her horse begins to dance again, eager to be moving, and she jerks the reins rather forcefully to still it. If she notes the kiss passed between Garett and Briallyn, she is far too polite to say a word.
Kamron arches his eyes at Garett's words about Storm's End, chuckling at those about the Trident, "Just about every knight between 20 and 60, even if he couldn't possibly have actually been there." And then he trails off, not interrupting the smooch on the cheek. In fact, he looks aside, letting the betrothed pair have as much privacy is possible in the midst of twenty or so people. As the group has reached the edge of The Roost and come to a stop, Kamron turns over to Saffron again, "I'm going to ride ahead and let the Terricks know what's coming up the road toward them, Lady Saffron. If you want to join me, you're more than welcome to, otherwise, I'll wait outside the Hall."
Keeping his eyes on the courier until the man rides away, Martyn's hand never quite moved from where he could have brought his sword out if it was needed. Not until the courier turned around. Then he visibly relaxes a bit, before he looks to his sister at her words, "Oh? What does he want now?" he asks, after a few moments. Once in a while glancing towards where the lone rider went off, but most of his attention on Muirenn now.
Katrin has been quiet for the majority of the trip, her gaze focused on the area right between her horse's pricked ears. "Do you know where Father wanted us to meet him, Lari?" she asks to her younger sister, brows lifting slightly. Her gaze sweeps over the majority of the party and then back to focus solely on Ilaria.
"I'd hope not. That is the goal, you know." Garett replies, leaning back upright from that slight show of affection. He takes the silvers with a smile, setting them into his own, worn and probably mostly empty coin pouch. Let's not discuss how he survives mostly on the Bri's generosity. "I'm going to assume something important, probably. But I only met Lord Alric once. Earlier this morning, actually. Seemed decent enough, for about the five minutes I spoke to him." Though the idea of a letter already being opened and read does not seem to settle very well with him. "So much for privacy when it comes to letters." he eyerolls.
"Much the same as before." Is the enigmatic reply to Martyn as Muirenn slowly makes her way back to the carriage and climbs in to the gentle scolding of her Septa. Glancing over her shoulder before the door is closed, she adds to her brother, "We will speak on it once I am settled and can think on his words." The girl allows the door to be closed as she leans back against her seat.
Martyn nods a bit as he hears his sister's words. The one thing that makes him relax more than anything else at the moment, is seeing her enter the carriage again, though. He stays silent for now, staying back behind most of the others for now.
"I will join you, Ser Kamron," Saffron says as she spurs her somewhat oddball rounsey along so the horse can go trotting after the Mallister's own. There is something almost duncy about the mount Saffron has given, because even as he trots along, he tries to nip at a passing fly.
"Indeed," is all Briallyn replies with, carefully reining in the over-eager Arrow who is straining at the bit. Their progress has not been slow, but the mare has had to keep time with the carriage which disallows any sense of gallop. Though she appears more upbeat than the day before, Briallyn subsides into a forlorn quiet. Scanning the street about them, her shoulders relax into near slump as her gaze seeks out signs of a well-to-do inn.
Ilaria's own gaze is lingering on the ruins of the sept, and her lips are turned down into what seems like a permanent frown. When her name is mentioned, she looks over to Katrin with a startled expression. "What?" She pauses, allowing her brain time to catch up with her ears. "Oh, no, sister. We are not meeting father. I am fairly sure that he is remaining at Broadmoor." She holds up an empty hand in a gesture of helplessness. "Lord Ian should be along soon, though. The summons was without warning. You know how he is."
Katrin's brows draw together, "I must have misread the letter then," she muses. She shakes her head and sighs. "I must wonder how long we are to remain here in Terrick's Roost, however." Her lips press down into a frown. "There is a relatively nice Inn in town, but I would not wish to stay there for an incredibly long amount of time. It is certainly nothing by comparison to our home or even the Crane's Crossing Inn in Stonebridge."
"I would guess when the Charltons and Naylands decide to ease off each other." Garett replies. "And who knows when that's going to be. If your fathers told you to pack up leave. No waiting, no wondering, just getting up and leaving, than I think they have a better grasp of what's going on inside Stonebridge than we do. My suggestion is hunker down and wait for the storm to blow over. And who knows how long that's going to be."
"You are welcome to stay in the stables, Lady Katrin. I am sure someone would be most grateful and happy to have your room in the inn," Briallyn quips quietly with an amused smile. Rolling her eyes with more subtlety, the young woman leads her mare down the street towards the establishment with her veritable entourage in tow shortly behind her.
And of course Ilaria is stuck right between her cousin and her sister. She heaves a sigh, glancing sideways to Katrin with a discouraging frown; fat chance it will have any effect. Instead, the girl nods her head toward the inn and clucks to move her horse forward to follow. Presumably somewhere in the midst of their rather large party both her Septa and handmaiden are riding together in the same direction. "I do not care where we stay, so long as the beds are soft, the rooms are warm, and the food is marginally edible," she announces in the moment of silence, trying rather hard to smooth over a possibly awkward situation. "I'll make sure we're roomed beside Ian, sister. Hopefully he will have enough for you to do that you will not get bored too quickly."
A sweet smile appears as Katrin seems ready to retort to Briallyn but catching Ilaria's look, the elder sister swallows her words. They don't seem to taste all that good, but she keeps them down. "I am certain that will be the case, dear one," she replies lightly. "Do not mistake me, the Inn is lovely. Just simpler and the fare is much simpler as the Terricks are still trying to get back on their feet. I had the opportunity to visit not long ago on business for Ian. It was a short trip, but it did have a way of opening the eyes."
Kamron comes a-riding back down from Four Eagles Keep, and he's picked up another Banefort on the way — well, a Banefort by birth. It's not hard to find the caravan, even with Muirenn and Martyn moved onward toward the Keep with the Mallister armsmen. Evidently he hadn't taken much of the time before, because he leans over a bit to touch Anais' arm lightly, offering a smile without its usual mischievous edge, "I didn't get much chance before, Lady Anais, but I'm glad to see you back at The Roost. Like your cousin, you always manage to brighten up everything around you."
"I think I'm with your cousin, on that one." Garett notes to Bri, when upon coming into the town square, swing his leg off Regret. His mace is then set about his back, against his shield. "A bed, any bed, is going to do at this point." He looks a bit sore, a combination of a bad knee, riding for over six hours and then wearing parts of his armor has caused him to get his cane back out. Though it doesn't stop him from coming about to help Briallyn down off Arrow.
Anais still looks a little worn, though it's the same sort of work weary exhaustion that's plagued her since the invasion, rather than anything born of a weekend with bandits. "Thank you, Ser Kamron," she says to the knight with a small, but genuine smile. "I doubt I would have appreciated it properly at the time anyhow," she adds, rueful. "I'm glad you've all returned as well. I hate to say it, but it feels more homey with friends around as well as family."
The redhead Banefort has found her new mount to be quite comical after a bit of time with him. He trots about with a kind of waywardness, moving a touch too fast at time and then a touch too slow. He definitely is not the chestnut-red palfrey she had been so proud of, but he does alright for now. Saffron has managed to get him to trot calmly beside Three, tossing his mane now and then as if to show off. At the compliment from Kamron to her cousin, she offers a small scoff. "And here I thought I was the only one awarded those compliments.
Though Briallyn doesn't wish to be an inconvenience to the still-wounded knight, she accepts his offer of help for the sake of avoiding further emasculation. "Thank you," she murmurs as she finds her feet on the street, hand still curled about the reins of the dappled and dancing mare. She gives a gentle tug to correct the ill behavior, and the mare gives a snort and rough shake of her head before settling. "Adelia, make the proper arrangements, please. See to it that my things are properly taken to my room. I'll unpack them myself. I do not know how long I will be here, but I am unconcerned about luxury. There are more important matters." Dark green eyes flick towards Kamron and Anais, the latter of which is given a rare and respectful curtsy from the young Haigh Lady.
Katrin just stares at Briallyn for a moment before she shakes her head and dismounts. "Please see to my things, Serra," she speaks to her maid. One hand rests on the neck of her chestnut mare, Heron. "Lari, rest for a bit. I will return to the Inn later. I need to go for a walk." She keeps her horse's reins in one hand but turns to walk away from the group, her expression tight. Her Septa veers off from the group to follow, still mounted on her horse, as well as one of the Haigh guards to watch over the lady.
Kamron looks back to Saffron, laughing easily, "If you were listening to me, instead of daydreaming about the Frey you lost," oh he -better- be teasing, "you might notice that I did compliment you as well, Lady Saffron. Besides, you do not have a monopoly on my compliments." Yup, definitely teasing. As they approach the Westerling and Haighs, he bows from the saddle, wincing just a tiny bit as he straightens up. "You're settling in nicely then, Ladies? You will also brighten up The Roost quite nicely." He points over to the Westerling, "Not you, though, Ser Garett. We'll have to get you a bit dirtied up before you fit in."
"I -knew- I was missing something." Garett fires back at Kamron, fingersnapping in a 'aw nuts' fashion. "Is it a tradition that you always throw the men into a pig stye? Because I'm going to need at least two…no, -three- drinks beforehand. Get wined up, make me feel special. And then you can toss me in." There's a laugh there, before he makes sure to glance at one of the wagons that has his things. And by his thing, it's really just a overstuffed canvas bag. The Westerling appears to pack relatively light.
"Lady Briallyn, Lady Katrin," Anais greets the others as she approaches, smile warm. "Welcome. I trust your trip here was uneventful?" It's a simple question, but she does seem concerned with the answer. After all, the woods were recently not very safe for travel or picnicking. She turns a brief glance at Saffron and Kamron, noticing the interplay between them, but doesn't comment on it just yet.
Saffron snorts that almost cute snort, but its really takes talent to make it so adorable in sound. She tugs on her reins to continue the horse along, though she has started to smile. "I have much finer things to daydream about." Though she does not give suggestion just who she might find finer. She smiles to the Westerling and Haighs as they finish their approach, and she rests her arm gingerly across the saddle horn. She brightens at Garett. "I'm sure that can be arranged, Ser Garett."
"I would rather you didn't," Briallyn observes primly, full lips pursing. "Lord Garett would be much less charming if he reeked of pigs and—" She makes a gesture, a loose one, and says no more. It's really not required, but she cuts him a wry glance and shakes her head. Kamron is offered a lingering look by the young Lady Haigh, but without the same heat that often resides in those green eyes when she's practically leering at the Westerling knight. It's more figurative, as if trying to grasp Saffron's attention. "I'll say," she agrees, and says no more. Adelia scampers off to do her bidding, like a good girl.
Katrin pauses in her walk to give a polite curtsey in greeting. "Lady Anais," she speaks softly. "You look well." She casts a glance in Briallyn's direction, brow twitching, before she smiles brightly to the group. "You must excuse me. I wished to walk through the Roost before the hour grew too late. I must beg your pardon, Lady Anais, but I do hope we might have a chance to speak further during our stay here."
Kamron chortles at Garett, swinging one leg over his horse's back and dismounting easily despite the weight of steel he wears, "The drinks, they can be arranged. I'll leave you to find the stye by yourself though, Ser Garett." He winks up at Anais as she glances at him, patting Three's neck, "I bet you do, Lady Saffron." He bows his head to Briallyn, "I'll try to keep him out of the styes, Lady Briallyn, but I cannot promise anything. I'm not his keeper. That'll be your job, soon enough." He lifts a hand in a sort of mock salute, "May the Seven give you strength."
It takes Saffron a few moments to realize exactly what Briallyn and Kamron both are implying, and then she is pinking abruptly at her cheeks. She busies herself by swinging out of her own saddle as she tries to breathe away the flush. Patting the clown rounsey's neck, she peeks around him toward the others. She looks after Katrin with a nod of her head, wishing to eventually have more time to talk with the other Haigh girl. She does look back to the others. "I'm sure Lady Briallyn has found all ways to keep Ser Garett in line," she says in an innocent note.
"No, please," Anais smiles easily to Katrin. "The village is still in the process of recovering from the invasion, but the people are more easily rebuilt than the homes. I'm sure there will be plenty of time to speak later." As the others banter and blush, she moves to dismount with a wry smile of her own. "There's nothing that actually keeps a man in line, I'm afraid," she suggests from her own experience. "I wouldn't count on being able to control them."
"Who the hell ever said I was charming?" Garett replies to Bri in a tone that would suggest some kind of faux-indignation. "I have a reputation to keep you know. And you're going to make me look bad." Leaning on his cane in an almost casual fashion and peering between Kamron and Briallyn, his grin just gets a bit wider. "I'll make sure I shove him in first." Then he stage-whispers the rest. "But only after he's three sheets into the wind." Anais' little man comments gets a chuckle. "I suggest repeated blows to the head. That's what Lady Briallyn does. I mean, where do you think I got this from?" he states, turning his head to run a finger down the length of the long scar on the side of his face.
Emerging from the Inn at a pace that shows a marked amount of haste yet reasonable caution for the flow of traffic at the same time, a petite woman with bright blue-gray eyes and a quiet air of determination pauses just outside the entrance of the Inn and studies the town square and the people currently going to and fro their evening business. A middle-aged woman, sturdily built and plainly garbed, stands at Nedra's side and studies the area with equal intensity and rests one hand lightly upon Nedra's arm to draw her attention. A pair of armsmen shadow the two women as Nedra's eyes widen slightly, a sudden smile forming on her face - and with it a tiny glimpse of carefully measured mischief - as she gathers her skirts carefully to avoid tracking the hem of her gown through the dirt - and starts through the crowd with all the skill of a fish weaving through rocky shoals.
"Oh, please do, Ser Garett… a dip in a stye could only improve Ser Kamron's appearance. I highly recommend it." Saffron gently pats the jowels of her rounsey as she stands in comfort beside her cousin and those she calls friends. Out of the corner of her eye she catches a flash of movement. The sight of Nedra causes her to tilt her chin curiously, though it is a brief look before her gaze is back on the others with a brightening smile.
"You are far too kind, Lady Anais," Katrin says warmly, a genuine smile marking her lips as she offers the lady Terrick - and only the lady Terrick - a curtsey before she murmurs to her horse and the pair walk off, followed at a distance by her Septa and guard.
Kamron snorts softly at Anais, "You've kept everyone in The Roost in line thus far, Lady Anais, including the men." Garett's advice to Anais has him backing up and holding up his hands, "Oh no… no no no. Don't tell her that! I'll have to wear my helmet everywhere I go." Saffron's teasing causes him to chuckle, "You've seen me plenty dirty, Lady Saffron." He blinks suddenly, and is that a bit of pink in his cheeks, and he continues quickly, "Dusty. From building houses." Apparently, he hasn't seen Nedra yet, so mischief managed so far…
Saffron actually manages to get spots of color to blossom in Briallyn's cheeks, and she clears her throat rather primly to reply with: "He never complained before." That's all she replies with before she's leading her mare to find a stablehand or groom to accept the reins, with Arrow's tail flicking back and forth as she crosses the cobbles. For her part, Briallyn tilts her chin and sticks her nose appropriately high in the air as if Saffron's remark is nothing. Nothing at all. Even with her red cheeks.
Nedra has some small skill in this game, and perhaps taking great delight in being able to spot Kamron before he spots her, she changes course ever so slightly and makes her way around the group that Kamron is engaged with until finding a way to approach in a less obvious angle. Granted, this will still allow her to see his face while making her way around armsmen, horses, other townsmen and women in the area until finally reaching the edge of the group that he's standing with. Once more glance around to ensure that she isn't about to stride right in the path of a charging horse, a run away cart or step right into a pile of the leavings that horses and other beasts of burden are prone to dropping at random - and often inconvenient - places, Nedra alters her path just enough then steps around to the side of one of her armsmen and rather neatly appears - hopefully directly in kamron line of sight.
Anais looks a bit bemused when Katrin curtseys, pausing to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear to cover the moment before she looks back to the others once more. "And here I've been settling for threats," she says to Garett, the cheer just a little bit forced. "I'll take the beating under advisement, of course." There's a speculative look for Saffron and Kamron, and perhaps a little envy, but she covers it quickly. "Well. Anyhow. How long were you all planning to stay? Or are things so suddenly bad in Stonebridge that you had to escape?" she asks, brow arching slightly.
"Builds character, Ser Kamron. You're a big boy, you can handle it." Garett replies, in the midst of slowly guiding Regret to the stables to have a stablehand set the horse away. If he's not careful, he'll find that the warhorse bites. "The beatings will continue until morale improves, eh?" he says, cane helping him get back across the square. "No no, my Lady. Threats never work unless their enforced, otherwise no one will believe it. I'd suggest a good shalacking for starters. I once doubted Lady Briallyn." he whistles dramatically. "Never again." Although the matter of Stonebridge does make him sober up enough that he actually speaks earnestly. "I'm not sure if things have gotten that bad, but I think there were a few of us who see it's that it's probably going to end up that way. Though, the Ladies of Haigh were instructed to come to the Roost as told by their fathers. Whatever happens in Stonebridge between the Charltons and Naylands…" he shrugs. "Well, we'll see, won't we?"
The Banefort gives Briallyn a somewhat apologetic look as she colors at her statement. At Anais's question however, she settles into a frown. As Garett begins to answer, she nods her head gently in agreement. "I would say that things are not well in Stonebridge," Saffron says to her cousin after she manages not to further tease the poor Mallister knight. "Lets just say that there is just not enough room for Naylands and Charltons in one town." Then she releases a small exhale, clasping one arm behind her back so that hand can clasp the opposite elbow. She glances toward Anais, quietly taking stock of her cousin but not willing to ask how she is as of yet. That is a question to ask in private.
Teasing is good, joking is good, but holy shit, there's Nedra! Kamron laughs delightedly. There's a discussion going on, but screw that. Kamron goes rushing forward, spreading his arms wide, "Nedra!" Not 'Lady Nedra,' just 'Nedra.' He's wearing armor, but that doesn't stop him from trying to gather the young woman up in his arms — although he is gentle about it. "No one ever mentioned you were coming to The Roost! Gods it's good to see you."
Nedra's smile blossoms into a grin that's part joy, part glee at having manages this surprise and all around happiness as she hugs Kamron back, though she's free to hug him just as hard as she wants to before laughing and saying, "I'm being squished!" in a tone of voice that's just as happy and clearly NOT being squished despite the laughing protest. She tilts her head back, not at all intending to release Kamron from the first hug she's had in entirely to long, and stares up into Kamron's face, searching for all the little changes and big ones that she knows must certainly be there. Not just the scar that's healing on his face, that's just the stuff anyone can see. "I wanted to surprise you," she admits, this said with another rather fierce hug administered to her brother, "and I just had to see for myself that you're healthy and hale," she admits.
"Will you be staying in the inn, as well, my Lord? I might call upon you to discuss details of our ceremy." That question is discreetly directed to Garett as she returns, horse taken from her hands and seen to. "I had spoken with Lord Kamron and Lady Saffron about visiting the Roost, and then I received word from my father that I was to come here immediately. I have half a mind to return to Broadmoor to inquire as to why, but my father is likely cross with me enough." She doesn't say, or even imply, as to why. Instead, Briallyn strips away the thin woolen travel cloak and brushes wrinkles from the fine green and bronze silk beneath.
"Honestly, can you imagine Lord Tywin letting this sort of thing stand?" Anais sighs to Saffron, shaking her head. "But Lord Tully refuses to rule once more, and at this rate there'll be blood in the streets. Which I suppose will keep anyone from collecting tariffs, so that's something." She's distracted from her tirade by Nedra's greeting of Kamron, though, looking curious.
At Kamron's burst of name and movement, Saffron takes a staggering step back to give the man some room to bolt toward the pretty blond. Pale eyes follow his movement, and the sheer familiarity that Kamron shows for the young woman colors her gaze with a touch of envy. She tightens her lips a bit, though she tries her best to smother that down. "Who is that," she murmurs to Anais, as if Anais knows all of Kamron's associates. There's talks of politics, tariffs, blood in the streets, but Saffron is far more interested in that pretty blond.
Three doesn't seem to care that he's been left to stand there alone, bowing his head and beginning to study the cobblestones for some grass to crop. Kamron 'oofs' as Nedra squeezes him, even if he probably can't feel a thing under his breastplate, "You're killing me, Neddie." He laughs again, "But look at you, you're beautiful! Not that you weren't before, of course." He's got dark circles under his eyes still, although they're fading, and his left arm moves a little gingerly, but otherwise he seems no worse for wear. "You d- you certainly did surprise me. You've always been able to do that." He starts to turn back to the group as a whole, finally letting the young woman free of his embrace, "Neddie, I'm sure you've met Lady Anais Terrick, wife of Young Lord Jacsen." He indicates each worthy in turn, "Lady Briallyn Haigh, Ser Garett Westerling, Lady Saffron Banefort." The Mallister son gives a crooked grin to the red-headed Banefort, then finishes the introductions, "Lady Nedra Mallister, my sister."
"I haven't the slightest idea," Anais is murmuring to Saffron from behind a polite, curious smile when Kamron starts the introductions. "But I'd imagine she's relate- Ah, a pleasure to meet you, Lady Nedra," she interrupts herself in a more audible tone. "And welcome to the Roost. I hope you haven't been here for too long?" she asks, a flicker of concern crossing her features as she looks to the inn. "I told everyone I was perfectly fine to resume my duties here." In other words, no one had better be keeping things from her!
Ilaria has been spending an inordinate amount of time at the stables with her horse, and although a stablehand has been trying to make polite conversation with her, the girl's shyness leaves her more or less silent through the entire ordeal. Finally she leaves, allowing the boys to go about their work uninterrupted, and returns to the group at hand. A quiet farewell is offered to her sister before she finds her station hovering at Saffron's elbow. The young Haigh witnesses the reunion of brother and sister with a skeptical expression, leaning in to murmur to her Banefort friend: "Who is that?" But of course she needn't wait for a response; when Kamron introduces Nedra, Ilaria's body relaxes visibly and she glances away - an opening for Saffron to to attend to the formalities of introduction.
"Unless you plan on making me sleeping in the stables." Garett notes back to Briallyn as he comes to a halt, leaning on his cane. "Or the styes. Given the choice, I'd rather much sleep in the stables." When she brings up the wedding, he pales slightly. "You really sure you want to discuss with me about that? I don't really know how I can help with that. I'd imagine you're far more knowlegeable on that that I could ever be." At the introduction of his name, he bows to Nedra. "Ser Kamron's sister? A pleasure, my Lady. I've only just recently met your brother, but I've found him to be a good, honorable sort." At the matter of Stonebridge, he shrugs. "Not something I'd want to have a part of at any rate."
Nedra shakes her head at Kamron, "Nonsense, I'm still a frog and you're a great gawk of a stork," she teases, her voice quiet when she notes the dark circles under his eyes, the careful movement of his left arm, though she doesn't voice concern for what she makes note of, she doesn't need to. She turns with him, back to the group that she'd so merrily interrupted and shares the happy smile she'd aimed at Kamron to the group at large, offering first a polite curtsey to all and a nod of greeting to each in turn as she places names to the faces of each. "A pleasure to meet all of you," carefully making her way along the names and pronunciations before adding, "He is," in a tone of quiet but firm pride.
And Saffron joins Ilaria in relaxing as Kamron introduces his sister — oh good, she won't have to turn green all over. She does brighten quite a bit, bowing her head gently. "Lady Nedra, I've heard nothing but good things. Just to keep you flooded in new names, this is Lady Ilaria Haigh." There, that should be everyone. She tilts her head so she can whisper something to Ilaria before she looks back to the others with a bright smile once more. "You must have arrived when we were detained." Because that's how she phrasing it from now on.
Kamron shrugs helplessly at Garett's commentary to his sister, "That's because you haven't known me very long." He shakes his head at Nedra, "Careful… don't say that to the Naylands, or they might start hunting you. I hear that like that quite a lot." Saffron's added introduction causes Kamron to blush slightly, and he bows his head to the other Haigh, "My apologies, Lady Ilaria. I didn't see you there. I would never intentionally leave a lady as charming as you un-introduced."
"I've heard nothing," Anais chimes in after Saffron, her smile wry. "But then, your lord brother's been very busy rescuing all sorts of people in all sorts of ways, so I suppose he just hadn't had the time. Will you be staying long? I must say, for all Lord Tully won't dirty his hands with Stonebridge, I've been nothing but grateful for the Mallister involvement in things here. You've all been so much help, even with your own concerns to see to."
"It would seem to I have to introduce you to subtlety, again, my Lord," Briallyn says blithely with a small sigh before giving Garett's arm a light pat. Her attention turns towards Kamron's sibling, whom she offers a polite and deep incline of her head, nodding to the other noblewoman. "Lady Nedra," she says warmly. "I do hope you are not trouble like your brother." The chime in her voice indicates humor, rather than malice, and she loosely rests her splayed fingers upon her hips once she has smoothed the attire of her person.
Saffron's whisper causes Ilaria to blush lightly, and she glances sideways at her friend with an odd little smile playing about her lips. However, it disappears entirely when her name is mentioned, and she blinks owlishly at Kamron. "Oh honestly, Ser Kamron," she murmurs, abashed, and hides her reddening cheeks with a quick curtsey to his sister. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lady Nedra," the young Haigh offers before falling silent, sliding into the background (hopefully) to give Saffron her room. No need to hover. Instead, she migrates her way through bodies to stand beside Briallyn, and her head turns as she takes in the inn from this vantage. "I wonder which room is mine. I'm famished."
"We've only just arrived a two days ago," Nedra explains before shaking her head at Kamron, "I'd just have to convince the Naylands that I'm not worthy of being hunted up as a delicacy," she suggests with another quick glimpse of a smile then turns back to at Lady Ilaria. "I'm sure my brother has been all shades of busy, I dare say I'm not the most fascinating topic of conversation to be had. And trouble?" She's glances up at Kamron and there's a subtle gleam in her eyes, "Never. Perish the thought. I'm sure Kamron is not only well behaved but the exacting standard of manners and decorum," said with a straight face and perfectly solemn tone of voice that ONLY a sibling than manage without fail. The blush on Lady Saffron's face does tug at Nedra's interest but she only replies, "A pleasure to make your acquaintance as well, Lady Banefort, all of you," she echoes her own words with another nod.
Saffron inhales deeply through her nose as she regards Anais with a ghost of a frown. "I'm sure that something will have to be done with Stonebridge, Cousin." She reaches to squeeze her fingers before she looks back over toward NEdra with a small smile perking at the edges of her mouth again. "I've found that Ser Kamron is almost irritating exact, as you say, Lady Nedra. Though he also have good humor which is a blessing at times." She has returned to clasping one arm behind back, hand at the opposite elbow.
"Subtlety?" Garett quirps, hard to say wether or not he's being intentionally oblivious or not. "I have -no- idea what you're talking about." In perhaps an attempt to vouch for Kamron, he grins. "Trouble? No such thing. And such a thing to assume too. See? His sister obviously knows best." A definitive nod is added to that. Then an all-knowing wink." But with something a sigh of resignation, he gestures at Briallyn. "Alright, I can't avoid this any longer, can I? Let's have it, then. If you want to talk about wedding matters, well damnit, I guess I'm just going to have to suffer, aren't I?"
Kamron grins over at Anais, "I do love to keep busy, Lady Anais." Still, he bows his head at the compliment, "You can blame Lady Muirenn for the idea. She can be quite… strong… when she puts her mind to it." Briallyn's teasing causes the knight to scoff, putting his hand on his chest in mock indignation, and then he's grinning at Ilaria and Nedra in turn. "Honestly indeed, Lady Ilaria. And if you would please tell mother that, sister dearest, I would very much appreciate it." Garett gets a nod of laughing thanks, and he's still got time to grin over at Saffron and add, "Good humor is my only asset then, My Lady Saffron?" The mention of wedding discussions draws a chuckle and an arch of his scarred eyebrow.
"Two days?" Anais echoes Nedra, dismayed. "Well, that won't do. I hope you'll allow us to invite you to join us for dinner some evening soon to make up for the delay. I'm afraid recent events have left things a bit scattered here, though I'm doing my best to get everything in order again."
"Good humor and good health are two things, hand in hand, that lead to a long and healthy life, yes?" Nedra suggests with a glimpse of a smile before tilting her head slightly and following the words of Ser Garret before a laughing softly then turning the same look back at Kamron. "I would," she says in a deceptively serious tone of voice, "but you know how mother feels when I lie to her," she adds with a quick glimpse of a grin before turning back to Lady Anais. "Oh, no, don't take my words as some criticism. We made much better time than we'd planned, and with some excellent directions and travel advice the trip was really quite swift," she reassures with a firm nod to follow her words. "I would be happy, of course, and most honored to accept such an offer,"
Saffron smiles toward Nedra even as Garett and Briallyn drop the 'W' word. She gestures between the Westerling-Haigh couple. "Ser Garett and Lady Briallyn are meant to be wed," she says helpfully. Then her gaze settles on Kamron and she offers him a mild look. "It is certainly one of your best ones," she says nonchalantly. Then she looks over toward Anais and nods in agreement. "It is good to have you here, Lady Nedra. We will have to make sure you get time to spend with your brother though."
"Excellent," Anais smiles to Nedra, nodding once. "If you'll all excuse me, though, I really should get back to the keep. Jacsen…" She doesn't pursue that line, though, instead summoning up a small smile. "There are several matters that require my attention. My lords, my ladies, welcome. Please don't hesitate to make your way up to the keep in the morning," she invites. "It would be a pleasure to have the company."
It's the end of a long day and Mortimer is finally on his way home for a spot of dinner and a quiet evening in with his wife. The last one went so well after all, what with word arriving of the ladies being kidnapped. Still, what could possibly happen tonight? Rounding a corner into the town square he is almost counting the footsteps until he's home, even allowing himself to relax slightly. Until he spots the mass of nobles that is. Ah. Looks like dinner might be a little delayed. ALtering course slightly so as to intercept the group he offers Anais a slight bow of her own "M'Lady," before coverign the others in a more general "m'Lords, Ladies."
Kamron taps his chest at Nedra's comment about their mother, acknowledging the point she's just scored. "One - nil, Neddie." He coughs, "My sister Nedra." Saffron gets a laugh, and a shake of his head, "Oh, you two are going to get along far too well for my comfort." He nods to Anais, "I should be returning as well. Percy will be wondering where in the hells I've gotten to." Patting his breastplate again to indicate the armor he still needs to take off, he smiles over at his sister, "Can I escort you up to the keep?" He turns that grin over to Saffron, and one corner quirks up, "I might even be able to manage to escort all three of you. I'm just that sort of good." A self-deprecating little laugh follows the words however, and he adds, "At least, my humor is just that sort of good." Mortimer's arrival draws a nod, "Master Trevelyan. Good to see you again, and I look forward to talking with you more later on."
Artur is running. Someone should probably stop this, an old man running around town, but there's really no one willing to stand in the old man's way today, not with the look on his face. He's not grumpy, he looks worried and relieved and everyone knows when Artur isn't grumpy, something just hit the fan. Maybe, this time it's a little more innocent as he rounds the corner into the square coming down from four eagle's tower and makes a mad dash straight towards Anais…3…2…UNANNOUNCED BEAR HUG COMMENCED. Yes indeed, Artur is hugging her tight and lifting her into the air, "Haha, you're back. The girls are back! I was worried, so worried, about all of you." Finally he sets her down, "Are you okay?"
"Actually, Ser Kamron," Saffron says perhaps unexpectedly, "I would like to walk with my guardsmen if it suits. We will not be directly returning to the Keep." Her pale eyes meet his for a moment before she looks aside to Anais, offering her cousin a small smile. "I will come find you tomorrow, Cousin. We will talk, alright?" She starts to step aside, toward where Punbah and a Timmen Supplement stands waiting for her as if they had intended to take a walk once they arrived to the Roost. Punbah looks sullen that he is without his best chum, and the Not-As-Good-As-Timmen looks a but surly. Oh yes, she's going to hate Sterling later. She glances back momentarily toward Kamron — oh and the others too, but, really. Come on, she's looking at Kamron. Girls.
"Congratulations then, My lord, My lady," Nedra offers to the betrothed couple, "and felicitations upon the day - in advance," she adds with another nod. Her attention shifts back to Lady Saffron, "Thank you, my Lady, and I would greatly appreciate that. It's been entirely too long since I've seen my brother." She laughs as Kamron notes the current tally though offers another small curtsey to Lady Anais, "It was a pleasure, My lady, and have a good evening," she adds as she straightens. "That would be wonderful," is replied and glances around to find Anathe standing near the armsmen who'd safe guarded her along the trip, a smile sent to her Septa before turning back to nod toward the man that Kamron calls Master Trevelyan. The glance back is in time to see the mad dash and it's results, though she takes a small step backward - a prudent measure just in case - and reaches out to rest on hand on Kamron's arm while getting her bearings again.
"Sheriff," Anais smiles warmly to Mortimer. "It's so good to see you ag-" But before she can finish her sentence, she's been scooped up by Artur, yelping in surprise before she realizes just what's going on. And for just a moment, she looks so terribly grateful for the display of affection that - were Artur not well beyond the age of danger - it might be inappropriate. "Lord Artur," she laughs as he sets her down, setting her hands to his shoulders. "I am fine, thank you. Already recovered, even. More so to see you so glad to have me back," she adds with a low laugh.
Mortimer blinks in surprise at the enterance of the Terrick Master-at-Arms, then shakes his head slightly, smiling as he does so. Yeah, he'd probably be the same if his daughter returned. Worse even maybe. Turning to Kamron he replies simply, "I'll be around and about should you need me m'Lord." If anything, he sounds faintly relieved that this mass gathering seems peaceful, but he can't shake the feeling that they all know something he doesn't, and not just which knife to use with which meat course.
Artur coughs a bit and regains his composure, "OF course I'm glad to have you back. Just because I always seem grumpy doesn't mean I don't care about each of you. I've been in the keep, staring at my hearth for awhile now, waiting for any word. The news of your kidnap arrived so late that I didn't even have time to help rescue you. I was hurt and…None of that matters now, You are back now and I shall have go to hug the rest of the Terrick family that returned. Luci is hiding from me, she won't for long."
He turns to face the others and bows, "Lords, Ladies, Master Sherrif. Sorry about that, but hopefully an old man can be allowed his few moments of lucid tenderness." Then a smile - stop the presses, he just smiled. "I'm glad that the rest of you who were kidnapped also came back safe and sound." Then another cough, "And while I'm being nice, let me welcome you to The Roost and Four Eagle's Tower and entreat you to enjoy everything that is offered for as long as you wish." Huh….This can only lead to something bad.
Someone's charging at Anais, and Kamron's right hand drops down to the axe at his hip before he recognizes Artur, the Mallister man shaking his head as if to clear it. He laughs just a moment, "Lord Artur." And then he realizes that Saffron is speaking to him, and he nods his head, his smile faltering just a moment before he nods again, "Of course, Lady Saffron. Do keep close to The Roost. It's absolutely safe, I'm sure, but I would hate to worry." There's just a hint of laughter there, but it's subdued. Looking back to Nedra, he nods, leading her back in the direction of his still-standing horse, "It's so good to see you here, Neddie. I'll introduce you to everyone else later."