(121-02-22) Uncocky Cockshaws
Uncocky Cockshaws
Summary: Cockshaws cousins encounter one another in the square.
Date: 22/02/2014
Related: Freeriders and Tirocinium is referenced.

Hightower Square

This is a broad cobblestoned square, ringed by grand buildings hewn from stone. A massive fountain, also hewn from the same strong grey stone, stands in its center. It is wrought in the form of the Hightower in miniature. A tiny flame burns at its peak, and crystal waters pour from its base, pouring down the stony pedestal into the mirror-smooth pond below.

Stone benches offer places to sit, vendors cry their many wares, merchants ply their trade, and all around one can see the finely-dressed Oldtown wealthy meandering about. There is a pleasant smell of cooking food in the air, tingeing the ever-present smell of the salt sea, and a hint of perfumes and spices.

To the West, the Hightower street leads away. To the South, the archway to the Beacon Boulevard rises. To the North, with the Watch House standing alongside, is a stretch of street leading to the Beacon Gate and out to the Roseroad beyond. The cobblestone market square is quite clean and fresh, with nary a sign of any beggars, street rats, or grimy peddlers hawking stolen goods. The buildings here are in pristine condition.

With the increased footfall through the city for the festival, the watch are making sure that they are a visible presense throughout town. Or most of town anyway, the important bits. Important bits like the Rose Gate say. On her way back to the watch house from a morning shift inspecting wagons and the like, Alys is looking forward to her lunch and an afternoon of leisure before it's back to work in the evening reasuring the well-to-do with the on-the street-presense of the watch in shiney armour.

Kevyn hasn't been in the city long. Ser Viggo blew in for the tournament, and he's been largely carried along during those events, being a dutiful sort of squire. He looks to have been on some sort of squire-related errand now as he strides along, carrying a dented shield on his back. It's not terribly heavy but, with the balmy summer weather, the humidity in the air adds some weight to it. He doesn't notice Alys right off, but he's wearing the Cockshaw colors and three feathers on a crest at his belt (and carting around Ser Viggo Cockshaw's personal heraldry in the form of that shield), so he's pretty identifiable.

Alys hasn't seen her cousin in a while, but the heraldry does rather betray his identity somewhat. Helmet under one arm she watches for a moment before calling over in her best voice of authority, "you there, boy with the shield, where do you think you're going?" Nothing quite like putting the shits up family when you can get away with it after all. Turning the head of her horse round to face Kevyn she readies the reins to dismount, but fo now remains in the saddle.

Kevyn starts when that 'Boy' is said in authority-voice in his direction, straightening up. Which is awkward with the shield, which he tries to transition to holding properly in his hand. His grip could use some work. "Pardon me, Master, I was just…" It's only once he's started speaking that he bothers to take a look at the person talking to him. He blinks, then his eyes settle into widening. First off, that's a woman. Second off, "Cousin Alys?"

Oh that look never gets old, although since this time it's from family Alys replies with a knowing smile and a brief nod before releaving her horse of her weight. Once both feet are planeted firmly on the ground she eyes the shield a moment then states, "Cousin. I thought I'd heard you had your brother's place. Rum business that and no mistake. Is Viggo here for the tourney?"

"Aye," Kevyn says simply, tone sombering at mention of his brother. He pauses a moment, like he feels like he should say something more about that, but isn't sure what. So, instead, he just presses on. "Aye, right, I've a place as squire to Ser Viggo now. He'll be in the city longer than the tournament, I think, but he's competed in it. You should've come to see the tilt. He rode very fine." A pause and he has to amend, "He was unhorsed by a Dornishman, but it was a fine showing all the same."

"I was on the gate," Alys replies, turning her head a little back in the direction she's just come from. "What with all the merchants and visitors the Lord Commander has discovered a likeness for 'looking the part'. So extra watches and shine your armour up. Doesn't leave much time for the festivities themselves." The report on their cousin's results is met with a wry smile and she repeats, "a Dornishman? I shouldn't think he'll live that ne down for a while. Or is he emphasing that 'semri-retired' bit or such to explain it away?"

"Yes…umm…I'd heard you'd joined the Watch." Kevyn does not sound quite sure how to feel about that, but he tries to keep his tone in the polite range of skepticism rather than shocked or scandalized. "How's that going, then? The Watch, I mean." As for Viggo, he hesitates to speak further of his knight's less-than-lucky turn in the tilt. "It's true he hadn't been on the field for some time. He's just getting back into shape now, training hard and such. And the Dornishman rode like a demon." A pause and he adds, "Perhaps he was a demon." Though good manners makes him amend, again, "Though he was most generous with the ransom, I'll say that. Only asked for a drink from Ser Viggo before he returned his steed and arms."

"It's.. an experience," Alys answers, watching Kevyn for a moment or two as he speaks, trying to gague his feelings as she does so. "Took a while to get settled shall we say, and there's still the odd watchman, new or old who tires his luck a bit too far. Tend to keep my helmet on when on duty though, stops people trying to be clever or thinking they can take advantage. Hows squiring?" She almost offers him some spars, but stops short at the hints of skepticism in his tone. As for the joust she nods once, "festival of the Mother, they're supposed to be generous, but aye, sounds like he was more so than many."

"Take advantage?" Kevyn frowns. "Do let me know if any of the louts get out of hand, cousin. I…I'd give them a talking to. And, uh, a beating, of course." He's quite the opposite of intimidating talking about it, so he likely wouldn't far well trying to do it. But he seem sincere enough. As for squiring, he shrugs. "Good, I think. Mostly. I tried my hand at the freerider's melee and got second place…umm…more or less." He does not go into detail about that story.

Alys seems genuinely amused by that response from Kevyn, lifting her free hand up to cover her mouth as she chuckles for a moment. "I shall keep that most generous offer in mind, cousin," she retorts, "but so far I have been able to hold my own." The mental image continues to amuse for a few moments before she raises an eyebrow at his last comment. "More or less? Come now, you can not state that and then not explain."

"My first fight was against a commoner fellow. Don't think he was a professional soldier," Kevyn says. "And then the other competitors sort of…beat on each other for some time before it was my turn again, the way the lots went. And then I had to fight…Lady Mormont. A Northerner woman." He already sounds embarrassed before admitting, "So I…yielded. Quick as I could."

"I've heard of her," Alys admits with a slow nod, trying to work out exactly how she feels out her cousin's admission. She's quiet for a few seconds then adds, "heard she's pretty fierce on the field. Tell me cousin, did you yield for fear of injury to yourself or to her?"

"Umm, her," Kevyn replies. It's not entirely said with any great confidence. The prospect of being beaten up by a woman in front of a large crowd probably wasn't too appealing, either. But there's a grain of truth to it.

"Well that was very chivalrus of you then cousin," Alys states, although her tone does suggest that perhaps she's tacked the words 'and dumb' on the end mentally. She doesn't push the point though and instead asks, "you said you and cousin Viggo would be staying a while? He looking to settle somewhere at last or is there some more temporary purpose behind it all?"

"He'll be in the city a bit longer, though I'm not sure how long, exact," Kevyn says. "He's not set up house or anything. He's taken rooms over at the Quill and Tankard, though, and I think we're paid up for some time yet. You should come and dine with us some night. It's a fair inn, good food, decent minstrels every now and again."

"It's not a bad establishment, rarely any trouble from over that way," is Alys' assessment of the tavern named. "Once things have quieted down a bit I may well do just that. It's rare I get to see family these days, and if the pair of you are in no rush to be going then it would seem foolish to pass the oportunity up." She offers a briefly amused smile though and adds, "so long as he's happy to have his standing and reputation runined by being seen with a watchman of course."

Kevyn chuckles at that. "I don't think he'd mind." Perhaps that's just because Ser Viggo's standing is a questionable thing. "Anyhow, I should leave you to it. Want to get this to the smithy." He shrugs his shield. "Good to see you, cous."

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