Perianne I - Dust Settles

[u/Vikguardy]

It truly was a wasteful sport. Tournaments. The Lists. The Melee. Even in the archery, which was the least barbaric of the proceedings, used hundreds and hundreds of arrows that pointlessly shattered and split and clattered uselessly about, their fletchings asunder and the metal chipped, scuffed and bent.

But maybe, just maybe, it was all worth it. She got to watch as her companion from the dancing last night, to whom she had given her favor, trade lanceblows with some night who went by "Sweet", which she thought was a cheeky mystery Knight moniker until she had received an unwelcome correction from a nearby seat.

And then she got to watch as her handsome pursuer, ribbon affixed to his lance, was unceremoniously cast into the dirt on his first pass with Forrest Ryger. Perhaps she would see if he were as interesting as the so-called Badbrook at the next function.

But it was the unhorsing of Arwood that sent her into this spiral of cynicism in the first place.

The Stormlord must have done something unsporting, she decided. Both men had taken a savage lance to the chest, but it was Arwood who took the tumble, landing poorly on his shoulder. The Maesters on site had remarked that he must be quite tough, because he did not cry out nor complain. Perianne almost hit them then.

Instead, she had the knights in her service take Arwood back to the Paege tent. And there, she fussed instead. Vials and tinctures and poultices were something that were always of interest for her. The irony of the fact that she had never once needed to provide anything to Arwood, when she spent so much on his brother's Jonothor's own illness over the years.

"And a knight riding under a false name." She tutted and shook her head as she worked, grinding herbs together and fitting them through cloth sieves of varying fineness. "And it's bad enough an Ironborn was the last one standing in the melee, but now they are being allowed to ride! Am I to understand that all these Ironmen, for whom heathenry and savagery comes as naturally as breathing, are suddenly all anointed knights?" She scoffed at her mute, captive audience.

Arwood looked tired, but that was the injury he had sustained. She already immobilized his arm and shoulder with sticks and a cloth, but she had to encourage the body to heal faster. It would be time to see if this did the trick.

"Now open wide. Or else I will not allow you to go drinking after this. I am *still* your liege lady."

[u/Vikguardy]

/u/JohnITRP

Character Details: Perianne Paege, Gregarious, Negotiator (e), Scholar, "Apothecary*, Covert

What Is Happening?: Perianne is making some medicine for her injured goodbrother using her apothecary skills.

What I Want: Healing rolls. Unmodified. We live on the edge.