(122-07-03) Camillo and the Wicked Pirate
Camillo and the Wicked Pirate
Summary: A cautionary tale, as told to Marsei by Camillo himself.
Date: 03-07-2015
Related: None
Players:
Marsei..Camillo..

The Hightower - Battle Island

The great tower is all of white stone, ancient and beautiful, but for the lowest part, which is seamless black, akin to dragonglass, and more ancient still. This lowest tier is quite wide and grand enough for any palace. There are two stories of this bottom part of the tower, and while the grand entry is wide and open, the corridors are a twisting maze of black stone. The tower has a narrower white stone tier above, and a circular balcony-garden on the roof-space left unoccupied.

The ground floor is dominated by this grand receiving hall, and the great main doors lead directly to it. High windows let in light that reflects off the glossy walls and makes the space airy and brighter than one would think black stone would allow. It is here that the Lord of Hightower holds his local court, from a large chair on a tall wooden dais. Both chair and dais are carved with images of the tower itself, and with dolphins and sea-dragons. They are inlaid with stones of white and grey, and decorated with silver-leaf. There's space for the Lord's councillors to sit alongside him, but visitors seeking audience must stand.

Past this grand hall there is a wide gracious stone stairway allowing access to the higher levels. Hidden behind the wall behind it and to and on one side, ramps allow wagon-loads of firewood for the beacon to be hauled up.


Marsei has recently come through into the vast shining room via the grand dining hall, still smiling and bright from the remnants of conversation with whomever she last shared words with; family, more likely than not. Rather than turn toward the grand staircase, she's set upon making her way through the entire length of the grand hall of her home. Nothing urgent seems to compel her; the lady's stroll is a casual one, as content as a walk toward the massive, important doors can be.

Camillo seems to have been promoted recently within the ranks of the servants. Or perhaps it happened some time ago, but was not the sort of event to garner the attention even of interested nobles. At any rate, he seems for the moment to be giving instructions in how to properly polish the handrail to some fresher servants. Spotting Marsei, he leaves them temporarily to their work and approaches the Hightower lady. "My lady," he greets.

Marsei notices Camillo and the other servants before she's approached, rather than seamlessly passing them by as if they were part of the furniture, as nobles of her ilk — even herself, sometimes — are wont to do. "Oh, Camillo, hello," she greets in her kind manner, coming to a slow, unbothered stop. She looks to him in a curious study, asking cheerfully — but not too loudly, "Has there been some kind of betterment? To your position?"

Camillo drops his eyes with his usual humility. "Yes, my lady, it seems Lord Ormund has been pleased with my performance thus far. I am grateful for it. And you, my lady, seem in good spirits," he is so bold as to mention.

Marsei smiles at his observation, underlining her good spirits, although there does exist a hint of decisiveness in the expression; a choice to be spirited so. That does not make it insincere. "I had a pleasant meal and thought I would take a walk out on the island before it gets dark." She raises her dimpled chin happily and takes a stride toward the doors, looking to Camillo to follow. She tips her head in his direction slightly as she glances toward the other servants and asks quietly, "Your new position isn't causing any sort of trouble with the others, I hope? I do recall your worry earlier on."

"Not as yet, my lady," Camillo says quietly. "I am not so very lofty. And I have been here for some time now. May I…walk briefly with you? I now have some responsibilities for what comes in and out of the Hightower, so if you had any desires for food, drink, or other items, perhaps I could relay them to the other servants."

"Oh, how lovely, I'm quite glad," Marsei replies, alight, seeming truly pleased for Camillo and his offering. "I shall have to think on that!" Her continued stroll and smile toward him as designation enough that she's content with him walking with her.

Camillo moves along with Marsei, dipping his head a little at her kindness in allowing him to accompany her. "Lady Marsei…you have not made the acquaintance of a Dornish seafarer, have you?"

"A Dornish… seafarer," Marsei repeats in surprise, as if the concept is as foreign as the mystery figure in question. She looks to Camillo smiling, as if his query is an entertaining joke, before giving it real consideration. "I have not yet…" she answers, but as her gaze wanders in thought, she ventures slowly, "… oh, perhaps. He called himself Seafarer, I remember now. He offered me a beautiful carpet and the promise of song. I have not taken him up on the last one…" She becomes distracted, thinking pleasantly aloud, "Perhaps for Dhraegon's nameday…"

Camillo frowns just a little. "I wanted to warn you to take care with that one, my lady," he says softly. "He noticed I served your family and asked impertinent personal questions about you and your engagement."

Marsei is drawn quickly out of her pondering, and by the sudden shock on her face and press down of her eyebrows, it's fair to say the Seafarer has been taken off of the potential guest list. "What sort of questions?" she pries gently, uncertain.

Camillo looks to the stones under their feet. "He asked what you were like, in private. He made comments that he considered your engagement unlikely, and…implied that he would wish to know more of you. I am sorry for the insult, my lady."

Marsei looks down as well, suffering modesty more than insult, although she does hold her breath through mention of her engagement, in particular. After a spell with her gaze to the floor, she holds her head up higher than it was before. "It is no worry," she declares, blithe. Her gentle smile returns. "He is no one to be concerned with. Thank you for your honesty, Camillo. I shall know the truth of him in the future, if indeed I'm to encounter him again."

Camillo nods once. "I only thought you should know, should he attempt to charm you, what he is after. But perhaps customs are different in his lands."

The lady's knowledge of Dornish culture, however extensive or not it may be, puts a bit of tension upon her shoulders. "Well.. perhaps that's so, but I think it ought to be customary to respect the customs of whichever land you are in," she says delicately, but smiles to Camillo, expecting an agreeing ear.

"I certainly agree, my lady," Camillo says, nodding solemnly. "I thought he was very impertinent."

"Yes," Marsei agrees further, but no more than that; she shan't let one Dornishman's impertinence spoil her mood, and the early evening air welcomes her outside the Hightower doors. She turns about, smiling all the cheerier. "Was there anything else?"

Camillo shakes his head a little. "No, my lady. I only thought I should say something."

"My gratitude. Back to your duties then," Marsei replies, far from an actual command; she gives him the most bright and light-hearted of dismissals. "You have a staff to mind, now, good Camillo," she adds in clear, whimsical jest, before whirling about to carry on with her evening stroll.

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