(121-04-08) Good Men With Good Steel
Good Men With Good Steel
Summary: Osric and Mariya discuss the upcoming trial. Nadira, Everett and Arros join and they attempt to form a plan.
Date: 04/08/2014
Related: Wickham's Nest Plot
Players:
Osric..Mariya..Nadira..Everett..Arros..

White Stone Manse - Starry Street

It is a summer morning. The weather is hot and clear.

This grand manse faces the prestigious Starry Street. The first story is protected by narrow high windows that stop people from seeing inside, but the big windows on the back wall and the four upper stories make the manse bright and airy over all.
The first floor's main hall is brightly lit with lamps to make up for the shortcomings of the street-facing windows. The white walls and polished white marble floors add to the effect, making it seem airy and bright. There's a grand dining room separated from the entry hall by broad doorway. The house is richly decorated and well-appointed, with luxurious furnishings.
Like almost all of the houses in Oldtown, it shares two walls with its neighbors on either side, but the servants quarters, kitchens, and servant's stairs buffer the house proper from any noise that could possibly leak through the thick stone walls. The grand staircase that allows residents and their guests access to the upper stories is of white marble veined with a pleasing yellow-tinged pink.
There's a pleasant walled garden in the back, viewed from the windows in the back wall and accessed through a glass-paneled door.


Morning finds Ser Osric Dayne in Oldtown. It has been some time since this were true. The Sword of the Morning has an energy about him that he has not in some time. He is dressed for court in a style more common perhaps to the Reach than to Dorne — sturdy trousers, a doublet and jerkin all in the vivid purple and white of House Dayne. The greatsword Dawn is leaned against his chair, a baldric hanging from the chair's high back. The knight himself is seated in a common room, considering a letter held in one hand, holding a fresh sweetroll from the kitchen in his other, quite forgotten.

Mariya had heard of their return the day previous, but has yet to see her goodbrother. Quietly, she descends the stairs, clearly on the search for something or someone. And as she enters the common room, it would seem that she has found it. Or him, that is. "Goodbrother," she greets warmly. "I did not know if I would see you again, for I was convinced that my sister would have locked you away until the trial was over." After a pause, she adds more seriously, "It is good to see you. That is good news, I hope?"

Osric's smile as he rises has two parts. First, it is joy at seeing his young goodsister, and a fondness for the youngest princess. It turns wry, however. at the mention of his wife and her intentions, even in jest. "It is good," he agrees, his voice more serious than his grin might have suggested. "And good to see you, Princess. I confess, I worried for you while I was away. I trust you were treated well in the Hightower?"

Her own smile is quite innocent, glad to see the man and does not change when his shifts more wry. "They were as hospitable as supposed jailers could be. I found it interesting to explore the Hightower as a guest. They have some remarkable architecture and lovely rooftop gardens." Mariya does not mention the harrowing ride from the Manse to the tower, as it would only worry Osric and there is nothing to be done about it now. "May I ask what the news is?"

"There are to be men sent from The Red Rookery and Quentyn's Holdfast," Osric says, "Men with knowledge of the border. You read the raven I sent?" He assumes an affirmative, going on. "Squires, both. Young men, the sons of lords. And Ser Jaisen Moot from Sandstone Hall." He seems pleased at the news, if not exuberant about it. "They will be a boon to us, I think."

Mariya nods at the question. "They'll be helpful in figuring out what exactly happened. I hope they have some insight into the whereabouts of the Lady Blackmont. Or perhaps who might have taken her." It is good news. With a glance toward the stairs, she then refocuses on Ser Osric. "I know this may not be my place, but may I ask as to which knights Lord Blackmont has asked to represent him in the Trial? You and Ser Tameron make two - there are still five spots."

"They've no more idea of Lady Blackmont's whereabouts than I, I'm afraid," Osric says with a shake of his head. "But their presence will be appreciated. They will stay here — I've offered them my hospitality." He gestures toward a seat and, should Mariya take it, he will resume his seat as well. "Lord Blackmont will bring champions with him," he says thoughtfully. "Good men, some. Men I met while at Castle Blackmont. But he asked me to speak for him in Oldtown, and recruit swords to his cause if I were able."

As Osric gestures toward the seat, Mariya settles herself onto the chair. "Ah." Her face falls slightly at that. "I see." They are no closer to solving the mystery of the lady's whereabouts. Moving on to the more pressing conversation in her mind, she nods. "I would feel more comfortable had you said, 'Good men, all,'" she admits. Then, resolutely, she adds, "I would help you find worthy knights."

"Fine swordsmen, all," Osric says with a flash of a grin, "Though I can't speak to their character. And in a Trial of the Seven, I would rather have men of character at my side than base men with strong swordarms." He's earnest in that, frowning slightly, just as he's earnest in the next. "I confess I had thought you might, Princess, and I thank you for it. There is little I can do to show my gratitude that would be of any practical worth to you, but you have it just the same."

At the correction, Mariya can't help but share the grin with Osric. "Yes, I would agree. The Seven would smile kinder upon us were we to have both good men as well as good fighters." Part of her worried that he would refuse her help and she would have to continue her plans in secret. Luckily, she does not have to worry of that and she smiles. "I fear that I may not be of much help, unfortunately. But, I will try. I cannot ask the Targaryen's for their help because of the politics involved. I had hoped they might give me the names of a few good men, but even in that they could not."

Osric frowns at that, the news drawing the corners of his mouth down. "You asked them publicly," he asks, "Or in private? I had thought Ser Daevon, at least, might see right and raise his sword in its defense." It troubles him for only a moment though, and is cleared away with a shake of his head. "Perhaps I should go to the Hightower soon, to seek an audience with Lord Ormund?"

"I spoke with Ser Daevon in private, but Ser Aevander was also present. I believe him concerned with locating Lady Yael." Mariya then shrugs her shoulders, defending Daevon even if he will not fight on their side. "However, no matter how I had asked, his choosing to fight for Lord Blackmont would not stay private. He would be very publicly declaring a side. Perhaps there will be a change of heart if we could find more information or find Lady Yael before the Trial, but I cannot count on that." As for Lord Ormund, she frowns, but nods. "The Hightowers have been patient and reasonable throughout this ordeal. Then again, I don't know if he will condemn the actions of the knights or stand by them."

"I would have it known publicly," Osric says, his brow furrowing. "I should ask Ser Daevon that way, I think. And approach the Hightowers at court, where it will be seen and recorded. Let men who will not stand for right at least be accountable to that decision." It's not said harshly, but gravely. He's not the sort to hold a grudge over it, but neither will he let it be ignored.

"Don't put Ser Daevon in such a position. If he were able to help, don't you think that he would? You know the constraints of family and royalty." Across the table in the common room, Mariya gives Osric a worried and almost pleading look. She does not want her friend placed in an awkward spot. It is still morning, though both the princess and the knight are well dressed - almost court attire. "I have no qualms of approaching Lord Hightower publicly, however if he refuses us in court, it will be harder to gather knights to our cause. Perhaps I could talk to him privately to find out how he sees the affair. If he will not hear me, then it is his own doing."

"Family and royalty do not free a knight from knowledge of right and wrong," Osric says with a shake of his head, his violet eyes set on his young goodsister. "If he meant to let them, Princess, he would not have sought his spurs. A man chooses knighthood, it is not thrust upon him. And in the choosing, he decides that his vows will guide his life." Not true in so many cases, but true to Ser Osric, at the least.

"If a man chooses wrong, knowing what is right, that speaks much of character," comes a voice of another nearby, and then Nadira comes around a corner and into sight. She is dressed in bright colors, oranges and reds, but nowhere near so formal, but rather a dress that is loose and flowing, and revealing a touch more skin than would be considered courtly. "Or what it lacks."

"No, but neither does knighthood make him not a Targaryen. He is not a Maester, forswearing family or name." Bristling a bit at the idea that anything could smudge Daevon's character, Mariya straightens. "Perhaps he does not agree with Lord Blackmont's declaration. Or, perhaps he finds that locating Lady Blackmont is the greater right." Flushing slightly, she shakes her head, eager to move beyond the argument about Daevon. "We have moved beyond the point. Even should you convince Ser Daevon, we would need three more knights. Ser Arros will join our cause, won't he?"

Osric stands as Nadira enters the room, with a nod of welcome. "Princess Mariya and I were just speaking on the Trial of the Seven," he says, waving her to join them. "Though we had moved beyond our initial point," he allows, settling back into his seat only after Nadira does. "I expect Ser Arros will fight, yes," he goes on. "Which leaves four knights, or three if Ser Daevon is to fight. As I said, Lord Blackmont will bring men, but…" He trails off, shaking his head.

"Yes," Nadira's lips curve into an amused smile as she draws out the single word, eyes resting on Osric as he rises. "I did gather that." She moves to an open chair and spills into it with a liquid sort of grace that is also, somehow, a touch unladylike. "But?" she prompts, one dark brow arching above the other as her gaze drifts between Mariya and Osirc. "Is there a question of quality of men that will come, or some other issue?"

Mariya does not stand as Nadira enters the common room or sits at the table, but she does readily include the woman in their discussions. Some might consider the morning too early to discuss such things, but it seems best to do so while the house is quiet. "If we were to find more men with good hearts as well as good swords, it will be better for the trial." As this is a trial to be decided by the gods, it is better to have men the gods would smile upon.

"Exactly," Osric says, with a nod toward Mariya. The three of them sit in a common room, Osric and Mariya dressed formally, Nadira… Less so. "Lord Blackmont's men are fine soldiers, but I do not know their character. I would have good men at my side, not just brave ones."

"Blackmont is the fellow with the baby being carted off by the vulture right?" That is a voice that comes from the hallway, before in comes another member-which would likely make Mariya look as chaste as a septmouse, in her garments-given that he is decked from head to toe in the black robes of a Septon. Everett, does give a smile though to those accrued in the room. "I am sure they have some character-in order to be knights. But, I don't know much about them-save I've never liked them." A sigh there. "Was it Blackmont or Manwoody you bought me from, Osric?" A familiarity with the Star of the Morning, well familiarity is a weak word.
Looking for a place to sit Everett sort of hovers, before just pausing by where Mariya is. "So-What are we discussing?" The Septon only slightly out of the loop.

"And we can be sure of the character of men here?" Nadira appears to have her doubts, but they're left unspoken. Almost unspoken. Nearly. At least this morning, but that's all that counts, right? Everett's arrival steals her attention for a moment, one hand lifting lazily from the arm of her chair to wave to him. "Septon, good morning."

Mariya nods at Osric in return, though she tilts to see Everett's entrance. "Yes. That is the banner of Blackmont. We were discussing a Trial of the Seven that is to take place. Lord Blackmont would try the men who are suspected of raiding the Red Rookery." As for Nadira, she readjusts so that she can answer more properly. "It, of course, depends on the men."

"A Manwoody," Osric says, with a grin at his friend's entrance. "And a man who puts the lie to your claim — he was a knight, and of low character himself." It's said warmly enough, as he rises to offer Everett his hand in greeting. Once that's done, he turns to address Nadira again, content for now to stand at the Septon's side. "We can be sure of the character of men we select. Dornish or Reachmen." He is of a mind with Mariya in much of this.

"Ah Mistress Sand.." Everett replies with a lazy grin, that seems to be more of his nature than perhaps frowns or skulking. A wave of a hand from the sleeve of his robes. "Lovely to see you. I hope it truly is a good morrow.." he adds dryly before his attention is going between princess and knight. Brows tick up and then lower. "Ahh, bloody business all around." which would mean the morning is somewhere in between good and foul.
"Someone raids Wickham's Nest, and so someone retaliates. I do find it interesting it's gone to the Trial. Usually these things are settled after a bit of bloodshed on both ends." A frown there before he is looking back towards Osric. "I take it, brother, you've been charged with drumming up champions?" a grunt there. "Any men come to mind? Perhaps I can help with what I know of both counties."
With the recollection of Manwoody, there is a snap of fingers and a motion towards Osric. "That. Yes. His dungeons were particularly cold. And the service…a bit too hands on."

That waving hand stops and curls under her chin as Nadira listens, one foot bobbing up and down in a restless sort of way. "If you say so." Her belief in the Reach men is anything but solid, but apparently this morning she's not of a mind to argue their quality this morning.

Mariya tends to believe that there are good people in every place, so she takes Nadira's words at face value. Then, she attempts to explain more of the situation to Everett. "However, Lord Blackmont asserts that he was not behind the raid and so therefore the bloodshed those men exacted was not vengeance, but more murder. Instead of leading his own raid, which would surely devolve into war, he is taking his justice directly to the men accused." As she looks to Osric, she allows him to answer who has come to mind. She will hopefully have her own inquiries to make.

Osric nods at Mariya's explanation, then numbers off the knights he expects to fight. "I will stand for Lord Blackmont, as will Ser Tameron. I expect Ser Arros will as well, though I've not spoken to him. And as I said, Lord Blackmont is bringing champions. Men I've met, and drilled. Fine swordsmen."

Everett turns and looks towards Mariya, and there he is shaking his head. "Princess, though I know you are one day destined to sit where your mother is. I would have you know-men lie." Though that being said he waves a hand and places it back into his robes. "That being said, I've not heard the formal charges, so beyond blood price. I am curious what her is looking to gain." It's been a while since the Septon was in the knight and let's fight everyone game, so he could be off. A glance is given back over to Nadira, as well as a small frown for certain. "I suspect we forget in this time that there are good men on either side of this argument. And it's a bloody shame that either incident occured. By seeking a trial by seven-we're assured of the only just result being given. No room for error or bias." As to Osric's assertion there is a nod. "Very good. I hope we have the number needed."

There is a dismissive little flick of the wrist as that hand slips from beneath Nadira's chin. "I have not forgotten that there might be good men. I just hold deep prejudice against them," the latter is spoken in a matter-of-fact tone, but is concluded with a smile aimed at Everett. "Take that as you will."

"Me?" Mariya's eyes widen. "No no, my brother will sit on the throne. It would only be through great tragedy that I would rule. I would never wish it." She waves a hand to emphasize her point. "There have not been formal charges quite yet - not as I understand it. There is just the preparation. Men may lie, but if Ser Osric trusts that Lord Blackmont tells the truth, then I will believe him." To Nadira, she watches the woman curiously, but has nothing to add on the matter.

"I do not profess to know all of Lord Blackmont's secrets," Osric says, his expression grave. "But I believe him to be honest in this. His wife's disappearance troubles him deeply, more as a slight to his house than out of any fondness to her, I suspect. If he knew the cause or source of the raid, or Lady Blackmont's whereabouts, he would have named them to me. And he believes truly in the guild of these Reach lords who he will accuse."

Everett looks back towards Mariya. "Princess, please follow my argument.. I don't want to lead you false." The Septon says before he is looking back towards Nadira. "I will keep this in mind, Mistress.." he adds with a brief smirk-before he continues on. "I trust Ser Osric and his judgement, but that does not give his sword lightly." A glance is given back to Osric then. "But, I do know from being on both sides in this particular conflict-that men. Lords and all lie."
There's a look back to Osric now, as it is the Septon's turn to sit down. "He might, but then-" and he shrugs. "The disappearance does not totally absolve him in anything. But it does make it sticky."

"Well of course you trust Ser Osric, he is a wise man," Nadira's tone is as careless with this statement as it has been with everything else. "I am just an older woman, deeply set in my ways." In this, especially, she finds some dark humor that is visible in the twinkles in her eyes and the set of her lips. She pushes herself to her feet again with that same fluid, easy grace of earlier, her restless nature too much to remain that still for long. Instead, she paces to the window.

"My wife might argue that point," Osric says with a half grin, "But I thank you for it." His smile fades as his violet eyes return to Everett, and he nods. "Whether he lies or no, old friend — and I assure you I do not think him an honest man, only honest with me, in this — I have pledged my sword to Lord Blackmont's cause. I have decided in my heart the right of it, and will lay it before the Seven. Now it falls to me to surround myself with like-minded champions."

"Oh please." Everett says, watching as Nadira up and slithers her way to the window before he is looking back to Osric with a grunt. "Old woman.." he murmurs before his hand is back and scratch at the back of his head. "I would think though." And there a roll of shoulders. Whatever thoughts he is musing on, it seems the Septon is likely to keep them to themselves. "What does your lady wife, think?" This should be good.

"I said old/er/," Nadira points out, hands on her hips and one brow piqued. "Not old. Do you think me an /old/ woman, Septon?" Danger, Everett. Danger. "Do you hear how he speaks to me?" This she asks of Osric, feigning an outrage that she doesn't really feel. "Teach your friend manners, Ser." Hands are set on her hips, arms akimbo as she turns back to the window with a smile.

"It is for the Seven to guide the Septon," Osric says with a chuckle, "And the Septon to guide me, Mistress. My apologies." He shakes his head, but his humor remains as talk turns to Ellia's opinion of the fight. "Princess Ellia thinks me a fool for fightin, though she has been kind enough not to tell me so." The group is gathered in a common room, Mariya and Everett seated while Osric and Nadira stand. The Dayne knight and the Martell princess are dressed formally, while the other pair are dressed more as one might expect from each of them.

And there the Septon can easily tell without having his boot off, that his feet are on thinning ice. "I would never comment, on a lady's age. Mistress. Her beauty, yes-but not her age." And like that Everett is looking quite in earnest back over towards Osric, as his voice is cleared. "I pray the seven are guiding us correctly." Everett states before he is shifts in his seat. "Would you have me then?" Though you know Septons holding weapons is highly outlawed.

Arros appears in the doorway dressed in his typical black sandsilk robes, and his sword at his side despite the fact that they are home. Home, after all, is no longer as safe as one might hope. He steps into the room, but says nothing. Instead, he looks expectantly to Osric.

"There's no man I would rather have at my side, Brother," Osric says to Everett, but shakes his head. "But I need you here still more. If I were to die on the field, I would have you among my family." He speaks of the possibility easily enough, at peace with it. Arros' appearance in the doorway draws his attention there, and then his steps, though. "Ser Arros," he greets the man, offering his hand. "I am glad to see you, indeed. We were just speaking of you."

"I believe I did follow your argument," Mariya replies belatedly to Everett's request. "You bade me to remember that men lie, which I did not argue. I merely stated that Ser Osric believed Lord Blackmont to be telling the truth of this matter and therefore I put my faith in both him and therefore Lord Blackmont. Unless the lesson you are attempting to teach me is the statement 'all men lie' is a lie - which is far too much of a riddle this early in the morning." The princess remains in her seat as they speak of who is old or older, not one to comment on the matter, glancing up when Ser Arros enters. Yes, they were just speaking of him, but she will allow Osric to get to the heart of the matter.

"Mmmhmm," is all the reply that Everett gets, but Mariya's remark inspires a rich laugh from Nadira as she twists back around to look from the window to the Princess. "That is one thing men can say that you know is not a lie," she is swift to assure the younger woman. "That they lie. There is no riddle in this."

"I believe, Princess, that the Septon simply wishes you to proceed with caution. As we all wish you would." The sandy Dornish bastard teases with a slight smile that shows white teeth against swarthy skin. His smile fades as he looks back to Osric, "Oh? About what, exactly?" There's a pause, "You mean to do it then, cousin?" The younger man tries to hide it, but there is an edge of worry in his voice for The Sword of the Morning.

The septon merely hides a smirk behind his hand given the Mmmhmm that is replied in kind. But it is wiped away given Osric's next words. "Certainly." he replies back, before he is shifting in his chair, a nod back to Arros. "As our sandy friend says. Caution should be exercised when dealing with any one." Not just blind trust. And there he is looking back towards Osric. "Well, I am certain that honor will be in this, and should quarter be asked, it will be given?"

"I mean to do it, Cousin," Osric says, his attention entirely on Arros for the moment. "And Lord Blackmont has asked that I champion his cause, and bring other men to it." His violet eyes flash toward Everett, and the question gnaws at him, but he shakes his head. "You know such a contest is not without its risks, despite that I would deny no man mercy, were it asked. But still I would ask you. Will you stand with me?"

"They just rode into Dorne and slaughtered as many as they could. Do you honestly believe they will offer quarter?" Arros asks Everett with a shake of his head to indicate he doesn't believe they will. Osric gets his attention, and his indigo eyes focus on the older Knight before he clenches his jaw, and nods his head. "I will stand with you, cousin."

There is something in the hall that steals Nadira's attention, and it's with a small nod to those in the room that she turns to head out the door.

Osric's chin dips with genuine and deep gratitude for Arros' support. He reaches out again to off the knight his hand, offering the knight a solemn smile. "And let the Seven guide our swords."

"I assume knights no matter what they are accused of, can show valor and honor." Everett intones. "And that goes for any man in this mess." And tehre the Septon frowns for a moment before he is looking back to Osric. "You know the answer without even needing to ask." Everett knows what his repsonse would be in this situation. As Arros speaks up, there'sa nod to him. "Good, How many more do you need?" eyes follow Nadira as she slides out, before he is looking to the company present.

"I am cautious," Mariya sighs softly, but does not continue with the argument. It is one that she will most likely have again and again. There are more important things to discuss. While her eyes follow Nadira out of the room, she answers Everett, "Four more. Ser Osric, Ser Tameron and Ser Arros make three. However, Lord Blackmont brought men, so less or more depending on whom Ser Osric will choose."

"True knights do not kill innocents, Septon. From what I hear it was a slaughter, and even children and women were slain." Arros clasps Osric's hand briefly before he frowns, "Is what I've heard true?"

"I would have such men as we can find, whose character we can trust, selected by the men and women of this household," Osric says, looking from face to face as he says it. "Lord Blackmont will lay the charges, but he will defer to me in naming his champions, I think. So if any of you have a mind to bring someone to the cause, then do." Arros' retelling of it prompts a grave nod from Osric, and his eyes turn sad. "On both sides of the border," he says, shaking his head. "At Wickham's Nest, and again at The Red Rookery."

"In my time of war, Ser Arros. I've never met then a true knight in either kingdom." Everett returns volly with a slight twist of his lips. "And certainly, no true knights are involved in this whole mess." And then he looks back towards Osric before he is shaking his head. "Bloody wicked mess it is. And people wonder why there is a need of the seven-and overlook such wickedness amongst us, done by men likely anointed in the same name." All of it is distasteful. "Anyone know a thing of the woman missing?" An odd jump there. "Osric..as I know men-I believe those knights I have counted on as friends either live in this home, or are all dead."

Mariya's face turns solemn when talk turns to the massacres at Wickham's Nest as well as the Red Rookery. It's a horrible thing and she decides to focus more on what they know versus what they do not. "Her trail has gone cold, unfortunately. She is the Lady Blackmont and no one knows who has taken her or where they have gone. Ser Osric attempted to find out more about her in Dorne."

"It's not difficult, Septon." Arros says with a light sniff, "Not murdering women and children is, I hear, a fantastic start to being a decent Knight." He glances to Osric before asking, "Cousin, I will do this because you've asked it of me, but is it certain that the Blackmonts were not involved? I would hate to see both of us, and Ser Tameron, misused for their intrigues."

"I did," Osric agrees, then, "We did. And we could find no trace of her." He looks back to Arros, and it's obvious that he has thought over the same questions. "I am certain that Lord Blackmont was not involved, and he is the man making the accusation. Should he find the men who perpetrated the raid on Wickham's Nest, he will see them punished." He seems satisfied of that, at least. Then, with a glance to the window, he adds, "If you will excuse me," to the room in general. "I'm to the Hightower, to ask for an audience with Lord Ormund. And from there to speak with Ser Daevon Targaryen, if I can find the man. A good day to you all."

"No one said it is not difficult." Everett states with a chuckle. "I just am saying it doesn't happen." And there a finger is pointed to Osric. "Your cousin is the only man, I would even dare call a true knight." And with that he is looking back towards Mariya, before nodding. "I find it odd, a whole woman has gone into thin air.." And like that fingers waggle before he is looking back towards Osric as he takes his leave. "A place, I do not envy, he walks."

Nadira returns just as Osric goes, standing framed in the doorway as she looks in the room. "Women vanish all the time," she manes a similar twiddly-fingered gesture as Everett. "It's only when the important ones vanish that anyone takes notice, and is surprised at how a woman can vanish."

At Arros' retort, Mariya can't help but give a bit of a smile. That is as good of an answer as she could imagine to give. "He is also apparently very distraught over his missing wife." If Arros needs another reason to trust in Blackmont's reasoning. As Osric leaves, there's a distinct frown on Mariya's face when he mentions Daevon, but she says nothing and instead focuses her attention on Everett and Nadira. "Yes, Ser Daevon means to find her." He is, after all, the Maiden's Knight. "And with her is hopefully the answer to who is responsible."

"Well good luck to Ser Daevon." Everett states. After all, if they could not find her in Dorne, it will likely be even harder in the Reach. As Nadria comes back in, there's a faint smile given the woman before he is twiddling his fingers a few more seconds. "I believe I noticed when you left the room." he adds, before he is rising up himself. "Well whomever is responsible. Likely-once their life is ended will find only damnation and hell." A bit gloomy for the septon, but this isn't the most happy of talks.

Arros pours himself out a healthy measure of wine from the sideboard. If his theory in regards to the contest and yielding are correct than he is on limited time, anyways. Might as well get drunk. He says nothing else in regards to the contest or the massacre or anything else. He is too busy drinking.

"Good save, Septon," Nadira replies to Everett, amused as she pushes away from the doorframe and into the room, moving for the chair she sat in earlier. "It would be useful if she were found and could address this whole matter directly. Let us hope for that." Hope for it, but she doesn't seem optimistic.

"Yes," Mariya agrees with Nadira. "I mean to help him if I can, but the Trial comes first." Her Goodbrother is involved, so of course it does. "Yes, may the Stranger take them, but before that I hope they are able to answer for their crimes." While she watches Arros start pouring wine, she says nothing of the early hour. Instead, she asks, "Are there any knights you can think of that would fight for our cause, Ser Arros?"

"Ser Daevon." Arros shrugs, "The rest are Knights of the Reach. They sould be only too happy to see us all dead." He has another good swallow of the wine.

Everett bows ever so slightly towards Nadira, before he is heading his way out as well. Pausing in the doorway before he looking as the Sands pass him by. One glance is given Arros. "Ser, would you think I would be happy to see you dead?" Question left there as the Septon hesitates leaving.

"You are an anomaly, Septon. You cannot deny that the majority of Reachmen would be glad to see Dornish blood spilled." Arros returns with a faint shrug. "Either way their knights will not fight for us is the point."

"I am, ever, what I am." he says back towards Arros. "I pray Osric finds the right men. I will see if I can find some who champion the just. If my connections are anything still." And with that Everett bows his head quietly, before taking his leave.

"I guess it depends on the Reachmen." Much like Mariya argued before, she'll continue to hope there are those that would see reason and possibly help them. She frowns and nods. Standing, she looks about at those gathered. "I mean to talk with those that I know. Not all the knights in Oldtown are Reachmen, after all." Ser Osric will do things his own way and she will do hers.

Just as she gets settled, there is another call for Nadira, and so she is on her feet again with a sigh. She doesn't beg pardon, but she does nod to Mariya before she moves back out of the room.

"As do I." Arros says to the departing Septon between gulps of wine. "As do I." He gets comfortable in his seat, and stares down at his wine cup with a frown. How did it empty so quickly?

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