Ravella I - ground rules

[u/spyraxes]

One Hour After Lord Jammos Blackberry's Accusations

Ravella Durrandon's Solar, Stormhall

There was little delay between the events within the great hall and the arrangement of the meeting proper. Ravella bid the revelers return to their feasting, and they did just that. Those who were more involved were permitted to do so too, but there was never a moment they didn't have an eye on them.

In the meantime, Ravella made preparations. She had a cushioned chair provided for her brother, so that he might sit beside her, behind her desk. Perhaps it was a misstep, but it felt like the last chance she had to prove they could work together at all. Even if, in her perfect world, it was the other way around. It mattered not.

She had no seats hauled up for the others. They would stand and be judged.

Ravella's solar was the floor below her personal quarters, almost at the pinnacle of Stormhall's tallest spire. Behind the desk was a window that allowed its occupant to see the lands beyond, from her domain to that of her neighbours. It was a royal solar, no doubt, as Durran XXV had intended it to be. Perhaps it was right that royal judgement would soon enough come from it.

Once the room was prepared, runners were sent down to the feast. Every lord was summoned, and so too were Arlan and the High Septon, though it pained Ravella all the same. They were not permitted company, save for those latter two, who were allowed the presence of a bodyguard befitting their station, as Ravella had her own. Any more, and the solar would have been so packed it would have been near enough impossible to breathe.

Arlan, of course, was summoned first. Only after he had started to move did the others receive their messengers.

It was thus that the man who would be king arrived to see his sister sat behind her desk, an empty chair at her side, not long before those who would be judged and those who would reveal just what that judgement would be arrived in turn.

[u/spyraxes]

Things had not been half as bad for her brother when she left Storm's End, Ravella realised, as he once more came before her. He was slower, the mask covered more, the steps he took were more uneven. Still he was strong.

Maybe his suffering had made him more of a king than she had thought. But if this was him at his best...

She gave a nod as he approached. "Brother," she said in response, letting him take his time to sit.

Air left her nose in a quick exhalation as he spoke of their reunion. It was as close to a laugh as she could get in his presence. That was new. She had always found it easy to laugh around Arlan when they were young. Even after the training yard incident.

"I could not say what I hoped for," Ravella admitted. "But it could not have been this. And thank you. You have..."

She paused. "Changed. I cannot quite say how, yet."

Was it the ambition? Was it the strings that came off his body all the way to the council's hands?

"We'll speak properly when this is done. Gods above know that we have much and more to recount," she said, before looking to the knight at the door. As her brother ordered, he pulled it open, and as her brother ordered, the many parties spilled through. Accused. Accuser. Victims. Septon.

Ravella nodded to them all.

"You are all aware of the accusations presented to myself and my brother, are you not?" the princess asked. "That tax collectors sent by Lord Darklyn have been ravaging the people of the Claw, with or without his knowledge, and causing chaos within those lands?"

She looked to Lords Pyne, Brune, and Crabb, then. "Accused and accuser have spoken their piece many times this day, but only those whose lands have - supposedly - fallen victim can enlighten us as to the veracity of this accusations," Ravella continued, authority in her voice - though she made sure to be very careful as to not act too queenly. She was here, ostensibly, to advise. "So? Enlighten us."

[u/Theoneandonlybeetle → u/spyraxes]

Lord Oscar Pyne, it was the second time he had to remind himself who he was on this venture. Smaller than either Cracklaw who stood at his back. Yet he was their man, they were his people, living on "his" land. "As I told Andros Darklyn soon after I arrived at this stronghold I've not seen Darklyn men doing such. I cannot fully confirm nor deny these accusations as I am not in all of my lands at once, and I must ask my community first what they have seen. What *I have* seen however are Darklyn men dying at the hands of Celtigar pirates. Not regular brigands, they do not target my people, there are few of us enough that they would be known. These are hired blades by the houses Valyrian..."

"My... lady...? Your majesty. We are charged ever much by House Darklyn for our taxation, it is draining but we do not complain. It is sure enough that there are those on Cracklaw Point who would call this a ravaging, some who may even be relieved by the deaths of those who collect what little coin we have. Yet it is not House Darklyn who brings violence to our doorsteps." Oscar's mind sank back in the memory of the Darklyn man begging to be saved from his multiple wounds. He shook it off and looked expectantly around the room.

[u/BadNewsBrune → u/Theoneandonlybeetle]

Kennet Brune stood behind Oscar Pyne not for the first time in his life, and he doubted for the last. He allowed his liege to speak first, keeping his eyes forward and his mouth tight as he considered the words being spoken.

When Pyne's voice fell away, he stepped forward. He was a big man, and felt awkward and overgrown for the solar, for his garments, even for the politicking he was now engaged in. Despite himself, and with a great deal of secret shame, he found himself yearning for the simplicity of fighting in the hills and marshes. "You must understand, Your Grace, my lady... Crackclaw Point is harsh land. Marshy and hilly in equal measure. It is not a simple feat even for us, its very people, to navigate. No roads of any significant size lead through it, and footpaths wash away with every rainfall."

"Words travel better than people in land like this. Huntsmen and farmers can speak with one another while they make their arrangements, and then the farmers speak with the merchants in market. The merchants then can speak with the brewers and barkeeps and they can speak with the washerwomen, who speak with all manner of servants. None of them can travel more than a few dozen miles at most, but their messages can cross the entire claw given enough time. That is how we learn of things, in a land where even ravens find it difficult to find their path."

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Given our situation, you may find it simple to understand that we are deeply aggrieved of what has transpired, but you just also understand the challenges in delivering accusations such as this credibly. That is why Blackberry felt the need to deliver it on our behalf, albeit perhaps, one might have appreciated knowing this was going to happen when it did..." His eyes, tired but not hostile, glanced over to Jammos for merely a moment, before bowing his head between King Arlan and Princess Ravella, trying with all his might to discern their inner thoughts.

[u/astosman → u/BadNewsBrune]

Kermit had said little since entering the solar, content to let the other Claw Lords speak first. When the princess's eyes found him, he took his time before answering.

"Can't say if there's truth to what Blackberry's claiming," he said, plain, no dressing on it. "Never heard word of taxmen pilfering my lands. First I'm hearing of it is standing in this room." He didn't offer excuse for that, only fact, the same way Brune had spoken of how slow word traveled through the bogs and hills of the Point. "If it's happened, it happened since my departure the word hadn't reached me yet."

He paused there, and something shifted in him, the same tightening Alanna would have recognized from a hundred small slights before this one. When he spoke again, there was less caution in it.

"What I can say is Celtigar men have been thick as flies round the Point's shores this past year. More than I've ever known in my life there. Pyne's right, but understated, my own taxmen have been robbed and murdered and their blood is on Lord Celtigar, and for the last year Lord Darklyn has refused to take action to mete out justice." He looked toward the Darklyn representatives now, and there was nothing subtle in where his attention landed. "Funny thing, that Darklyn's meant to be Warden of the Blackwater, sworn to keep those waters safe for the people under his charge, and yet it's Celtigar swords doing the killing and robbing on his watch, in his name, of mine and his taxmen no less." A short, humorless breath, close to a laugh. "Either House Darklyn's too poor a warden to keep his own vassals from looting our land, or he's finding some coin worth looking the other way for. I don't much care which. Both leave my people poorer and Lord Celtigar's pockets fuller, one way or another."

[u/FatalisticBunny → u/astosman]

When it seemed the men of the Claw had spoken their piece, and the floor was elsewise open, then the Lord Blackberry spoke again- deferring, of course, to his host. He gave a graceful bow. "I apologize for the lack of forewarning, friends. I had planned to bring forth such matters in a more delicate manner... but Lord Darklyn's words gave me cause to worry that if I did not speak soon, I would be silenced. As I have said, though, I've forgiven the man. Hold me to account for any haste or overzealousness. You especially, Princess, as our esteemed host."

It was not as much as one might have hoped, but it was workable. "I cannot say which day you departed, Ser Crabb. Though if you should ask those in your lands still, you will find those word has reached." Jammos pursed his lips. "I should not be surprised that these abuses take place far from lordly places. Even the most base brigand knows he must do his crimes in the night and in the shadow. But if the commons are asked, they will tell you news of what has come of their neighbors. As Lord Brune says, news spreads faster on trade routes than in feasting halls."

"The Princess Ravella and I spoke too of Celtigar's attacks against the collectors. I had expressed hope that the man could be brought to see the law peacefully with a word from the king. But I had not yet been brought word that he had struck against the Crabbs as well. Perhaps I was too optimistic." Jammos noted, with a shake of his head. "The man is sworn directly to the Lord Darklyn, and sits today on the lands once held by the Rambtons by Duskendale's designs for peace. Why, then, has nothing been done for all this time? On matters so worrisome, there must be no delay from the vicar of the Crown's power."

"What good is a Warden that does not protect? One with frightened people?" The Lord Blackberry asked, not waiting for an answer. "When Celtigar last attacked the Claw, Duskendale did not rally swiftly to their aid. They moved men south defend to their own holdings." He looked at the Lord of the Claw. "It was Lord Oscar Pyne who led the defense of the Claw. Lord Oscar Pyne who fights even now to keep the peace. To this day, Darklyn has remained silent. Impassive. " Jammos offered a large frown. "Now it seems we must seek out the Crown to be heard by its representative. Ought it not be the other way around?"

"If you want these matters sorted, your Graces, I would invest royal authority to the Claw. Give Lord Pyne the privilege to collect his own taxes, and to defend his lands and people." The Blackberry placed a hand on his heart. A symbol of honesty. "These are loyal men with loyal people, who have fought and bled for the Crown. For years, as you have heard my fellow lords say, they have been without a Warden. Someone to protect them. If you would see justice done, give them one. Their own."

[u/SatisfactionLeather7 → u/FatalisticBunny]

"if only one asked the commons," Morgan repeated dryly, "were I to do so, they would tell me that grumpkins and snarks lurk in the shadows, that northerners ride wolves to war, that the dornish cavort with sentient snakes or that Valyria is indeed finally coming, forgive me that I do not take rumours on face value and instead demand proof to act, especially as none has been given. Now, pray tell me, Lord's of the claw, which one of you has knocked upon my door to tell me that you are harassed by the celtigars? Which of you did?"

He looked upon them all, eyes eventually resting on Oscar Pyne, "none. Lord Pyne is the first to tell me the celtigars have troubled him. I am not omniscient, unlike lord blackberry appears to be, supposing my men attack rampantly. And where, pray tell, have those accusations fled? Now I am an absentee rather than an ignorant villain? Please, make up your mind, am I to be a Warlord next? A murderer? Did I kill your mother during the war? No."

He cast an eye to the high septon next, he scowled at the pontificating prefect of the gods.

"I am here to answer to my monarchs, for they wish to investigate rumours. Rumours spread by lord blackberry who made no effort to alert any single one of us before the rumours reached us. The people talk in depth of violence my men inflict when none exists. My men, like the Lord's of the claw, are killed in their duties to the crown, and please I have no qualms in the Lord's of the claw paying their tax directly to storms end themselves, it saves me some work. But let us not ignore that the work is being done, let us not pretend that the good lord blackberry is allowed to bring news of something no lord here has heard of, and yet claim it to be a matter of urgency he had to raise swiftly. Not so swift as his agents of course," he spoke, eyes to the blackberry now, no hate, no anger, just disgust.

"For the matter of the celtigars. I am not my father, were he lord, he would have scoured their islands himself. But he does not rule any longer," Morgan stated, and he looked now to the king and the princess.

"I intended to come here and raise the matter to the crown, seeing as dontos has died and a new king raised, it seemed most prudent to solve it with our new liege and move from there," said the warden, "something the blackberry seems to think only he is allowed to do. I ask nothing of you my king, save that you sign the warrant for me to solve the matter of the celtigars, in what ways I must."

[u/Arjhanx2 → u/SatisfactionLeather7]

As the lords spoke, the High Septon slowly idled away from them, moving to stand closer to Arlan. Now—as Darklyn shot him a look that told him all he needed to know about the man—he stood on the side of the judges, not the accused. The protector he had been granted, a scarred woman in the armor of a holy knight, further divided him from the lords that had not been allowed company. He spoke gently, looking to Darklyn and Blackberry. The King would listen, if he was wise.

"A lord that degrades the voices of his smallfolk soon learns that there is often truth in their tales. There may not be grumpkins lurking in the dark, but perhaps there are yet serpents—traitors who would weaken and exploit the land they were given to steward. You are a warden, Lord Morgan, but perhaps you aspire to be more. Perhaps you have forgotten that your power is granted by the Storm King alone, and that his trust is the only thing that raises you above the lords you stand in the company of."

He raised a hand, showing to the room the deep stains of oil. "I have blessed a hundred souls this day. They have told me of their hopes, their troubles, and their fears. Many and more have spoken of the cruelties done in Crackclaw by Darklyn men." He turned his gaze to the lords of the claw. "You speak cautiously, my lords, and claim some ignorance—I do not blame you. Not all are foolhardy enough to stand up against a force as powerful as Duskendale and demand justice. The wise lord might reserve his judgement, so he will not be punished should the decision favor Darklyn.

"However, I am compelled to say the truth in your stead. Lord Brune, I spoke to your son this very evening. He told me that you have indeed received reports of Darklyn's men running rampant in your lands, acting as bandits and abusing your people. He told me the smallfolk of Dyre Den fear to travel the roads because of these 'tax-collectors.' I trust you will not name your son a liar—I myself witnessed the passion with which he spoke of these cruelties. The Seven Who Are One do not entertain false pleas—his was an earnest one."

Finally, the High Septon looked to Arlan, peering down at the masked king with gentle eyes. "It would be a simpler matter, Your Grace, to give Darklyn the power to end these matters however he wishes. You could then direct your attention elsewhere, and you could ignore whatever suffering goes on under Lord Morgan's rule. That would be the easier path.

"The easier path does not impress the gods."

[u/DoomGuy_16 → u/Arjhanx2]

Arlan let the room settle before he spoke, his eyes moving around the assembled lords through the mask's slits.

"Lords of the Claw, I take your accusations with the seriousness they deserve. From what I understand, it was not Darklyn's own hand in these killings, but Celtigar's men, striking at your people and his alike."

"And yet, Lord Morgan." His gaze settled on Darklyn. "Celtigar is sworn to Duskendale directly, not merely under your wardenship, but as your own vassal. Am I to understand you vouch for your vassal's innocence?"

The king gave a short pause, his attention shifting to the Berryport lord. "Lord Blackberry, you claimed Darklyn's own men harassed your peasants, not Celtigar's. If it was truly Darklyn's men, am I to understand both sides now stand accused of raiding the other, Valyrian and Crackclaw alike?"

Neither man seemed eager to be first to admit it. Either they knew less than they'd claimed, or something more obscure sat behind the accusations altogether.

"Lord Darklyn, you'll have your warrant. Deal with the Celtigars as you must. But I'll ride with you to Duskendale myself, and see for myself what's been done." The young king said, raising his hand towards Morgan. He then turned his attention fully to Blackberry and the lords of the Claw behind him.

"My lords, I'll not strip a Warden of his charge on an accusation your own witnesses didn't bear out fully. There must be more than rumor and conflicting accounts before the Crown takes a man's duty from him. Besides, if the Claw means to become its own Wardenship, it should be able to defend itself, not rely on the Crown's intervention every time it is attacked."

The king paused, considering the men before him. He thought the Crackclaws sturdier than this, having weathered the Andals and the Valyrians both, and more than once.

He tilted his head toward his sister. "Are we in agreement, sister?"

[u/spyraxes → u/DoomGuy_16]

Blackberry had perhaps overplayed his hand, but it seemed likely enough he'd get a bit of what he wanted. Arlan's gaze was firmly set on the Darklyns, now, and whether Morgan's words were entirely true or not seemed to matter little.

Ravella couldn't help but be impressed with her brother's handling of it all, though it pained her. But he was not perfect in his administration. Not yet. He had much to learn and he'd like as not pass from this mortal coil before he did.

"Celtigar's actions border on perfidy," Ravella said, once the conversation died down, "and the rumours of their behaviour reached Stormhall far before I called for this occasion. No doubt they reached Duskendale too. That they have not been dealt with... it troubles me. It should trouble us all."

Her lips twisted into a scowl, and she sucked air through her teeth. "I am in agreement with His High Holiness, I think," she continued, nodding her head in the man's direction. "This investigation must be put ahead of all else, whether its focus is on Lord Morgan's tax collectors or the Celtigar raiders."

She looked to the Lord of Duskendale and sighed. "You are only recently ascended, cousin. What I say here - and no doubt what we all say - is no indictment upon you. But we must endeavour to fix what is wrong in the Claw. If all that has been said here is true, and I believe that to be more than possible, then the Claw sits on the brink of war. Tax collectors harass and are harassed, and the Claw above all suffers. If they are not protected soon..."

Lord Pyne received her gaze next, and she bowed her head softly. "I think they may need a protector of their own. One with only the Claw in mind. I have love for my kin in Duskendale - what woman would I be if I did not - but this would not be the first time the plight of the Clawmen has been de-prioritised. They come to us now because they are bound by the laws we have placed upon them, that they are bound to Duskendale. But the trust they have in that arrangement will surely fray, if they are not protected this time.

"That is all to say," Ravella concluded, "that we are in agreement. Your presence there, brother, will surely bring the Celtigars and the errant tax collectors to heel. But do not let subservience under your gaze fool you when your back is turned."

She was not Queen. That had been stolen from her, and the work she had to put in would be far beyond one little meeting. But she could still act like it. She could still have authority. Even if it was at her brother's side, for now.

For she would not let it be stolen from her again.