(121-05-12) Pursuing the Pursued
Pursuing the Pursued
Summary: Tironos follows up on another lead, only to confirm suspicions.
Date: 12/05/2014
Related: http://gobmush.wikidot.com/log:121-05-10-going-to-see-a-man-about-men
Players:
Abram..Tironos..

Foxearth Manse - Starry Street

This manse's front door has a red-gold fox's head painted on it, and the doorframe tiled with a mosaic of blue flowers.

Like most of Oldtown's houses, the lower part of the building's facade has no windows, but here this does not make for a dark great hall — the ceiling is so high that grand tall windows up twelve feet above the street level let in plenty of light. They're of coloured glass, blue and green and reddish-amber and white, pieced together into scenes of foxes running amid blue flowers. The floor of the grand hall is bright golden oak, the walls plastered pristine white, and the baseboards, crown moldings and doorframes are all mosaics of semi-precious stone, green beryl and lapis lazuli and carnelian, continuing the fox-and-flower theme.

In the center of the room there's a set of plush couches and chairs, covered in light blue brocade, with a couple of bright wooden tables at their sides to form an elegant space for conversation. Sideboards of similar glossy wood stand along the walls, bearing numerous delicately painted vases, all kept full of fresh blooms.

On the East side of the room is a wide arched doorway leading into the dining hall, a magnificent chamber that can seat at least thirty. Beyond it there are hidden doors leading to the kitchens and the servant's quarters. On the West side is a great curling staircase, leading up. It's newel post is carved into the shape of a fox, standing on its hind legs to look curiously up the stairs. He is leafed in reddish gold, and his eyes are carved of amber. At the back of the hall there are large windows looking out into the back garden, and double doors giving access.


\Lord Tironos Tarly's letter had been answered by one in turn from Abram, inviting the gentleman to Foxearth at a polite hour the next day. By the appointed time, Abram Florent has reclined in one of the chairs beside the hearth, a pair of retainers awaiting the guest, idly passing time in reading from a volume on the subject of training raptors.

After arriving and being shown inside, Tironos ducks down whether needed or not as he enters Foxearth Manse, once inside he stands to his full height of six foot eight, which would explain why he ducks down when entering a room out of habit. Dressed in house-neutral colors, his attire is typical of poorer nobility, or at least those who don't care for extravagance if they do have money. A black iron link hangs from the left hip of his belt, as an iron link and pale steel dangle from the outer sides of the left and right boots respectively. As he approaches Abram he nods respectfully and says, "Greetings Ser Abram." in a formal tone.

"Ser Tironos," Abram greets with more casual warmth coloring his jovial voice. Drawing a ribbon across the page and shutting the book, he rises and steps to greet the house's guest with an offered hand and easy smile up at the taller knight. "If I recall correctly, we last crossed lances at Three Towers?" he wonders aloud, memory of the last joust the two had met each other grown spotty. "Remind me, which of us won that pass? One too many blows to the head of late, I'm afraid," the half jest is given with a small chuckle as he gestures toward the chairs at hearthside. "Sit, sit, what will you drink?"

Tironos states, "I can't recall who won that one myself, but I believe it was the joust with the three abnormally tall knights, I believe they all dwarfed even me." As he takes a seat and says, "I prefer to get down to business if you don't mind. Your name was mentioned in regards to betrothal options, though also that you might have recently been betrothed yourself. Which is the truth of the matter?"

Abram shrugs amiably as Tironos seeks to cut directly to business, settling into the seat facing his guest. The subject pushes up both his brows, the corner of his mouth following suit. "Well the truth is that not two days past I'd fought a duel with Ser Dresden Reyne over that very question. As it turns out I won, and am in fact betrothed. To the Lady Valerity Redwyne," he clarifies. "On whose behalf do you ask?"

Tironos says, "My younger sister, I was given several names to approach on the matter so it is fine, as I said they informed me you might have already been betrothed I simply wished to confirm it, and if you hadn't then the matter could have been discussed. Unless you by chance know of any respectable and honorable knights or Lords who are seeking betrothal."

Abram chuckles dryly, "My own lady cousin is seeking after worthy prospects, herself. I sympathize with your sister's plight, but if my name came up then the pickings of worthy knights must be grown short, indeed," he quips with a merry grin at his own expense. "I regret to say I have few suggestions to offer. What can you tell me of your sister; what manner of lady is she?"

Tironos says, "Kind, gentle, full of energy, respectable, she enjoys riding and hunting, and contrary to my brothers and myself, you'd likely think she were a Lannister given her eyes and hair."

Abram cants his head to a curious angle at the description, eyes narrowing in brief thought. "Hrm. I will be sure to send word should a fit prospect present himself, though should you wish it, I plan a hunt in the coming weeks. The both fo you would of course be welcome."

Tironos shakes his head and says, "I don't care much for hunting, contrary to the traditions of House Tarly, but then it is likely just another reason my father cares little for me. If you do think of anyone however I would review them and speak with them." He makes no mention of his sister going, but then perhaps he doesn't want her going on such a trip without him present, at least with another Lord or knight.

"Fathers," Abram quips with a sardonic grin. "What can a man do?" A short exhale, "I'm sorry that I could not be more help, Ser Tironos. All I can say is that you might try a duel; that worked out rather well in my case." A crooked grin follows the jape.

Tironos smiles softly and says, "Unlikely, I'm not that skilled of a fight, after all I've only been a knight for four years and roughly the first half of my life was being raised by Maesters. Besides the final say lies with my father not me. If there is nothing more I'll leave you to your own affairs, my apologies for taking up your time for such a trivial matter."

Abram shakes his head. "Think nothing of it, Ser," he dismisses the apology as unneccessary. "And worry not over showing skill at arms. You know quite well I've never won a tournament or distinguished myself at the sport of arms. Men like us simply want for a worthy cause to show our true prowess." Another grin follows. "Until we meet again, Ser."

Tironos nods and says, "As you say." as he moves to depart unless stopped.

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