The Tourney at Ashford

The weather was definitely shifting, but Oswell doubted it would be that short a Spring for the season to be changing already. He had passed by the Dornishman and it was packed full to overflowing so he made his way down to the meadows, to the site of yesterdays brawl, happy to see that the Bottom of the Barrel was much more accommodating.

"Pitcher of mulled wine." He ordered as he rolled up to one of the makeshift tables for a nightcap.

Enjoying some mead nearby the Vale knight remembers the Maester from earlier and nods his way. He still wasn't used to seeing a wheeled contraption like the old gentleman had.

With nothing better to do he wanders over and lifts his cup to Oswell. "Think it'll rain on the morrow?"

His wheelchair was definitely unique, at least in his experience. Though the concept was simple, like using a cart for a sack of potatoes, the matter of balancing the position of the rider and numerous other feats of engineering made it too complicated for most minds to fine tune to usefulness.

"I certainly hope not Ser Corbray, although meteorology is not a topic I have put overmuch study into. The rain today definitely killed some of the mood at the lists today."

The knight looks a bit grim, but after a few words it vanishes. "Aye. A miserable day for jousting. Oh, you can call me Tal if it pleases you measter. Everyone else does."

He has a quick gulp then moves to collect a chair so he wasn't towering over the old man. Pulling it over he takes a seat beside him. "Any reason your Lord's son wasn't about earlier today?"

"As you wish Tal." Oswell says with a smile as he tips his own cup to the knight letting out a satisfied sigh after taking a large mouthful of his wine.

"I'm hoping that Ser Warryn wasn't offended, but we find that our Lord's heir already had a standing arrangement for the appointed hour of our meeting. Have no fear that he has likely already heard of what was discussed, and will be keen to organize a followup gathering."

"Very good." And like that the matter was dropped and Tal was smiling again.

"So, is there a story to how you ended up like that or should I mind my own business?" He asks with a light tone, a bit interested yet unwilling to pry without Oswell's permission.

Oswell doesn't seem offended by the question. "There's always a story, it just so happens that mine isn't an interesting one. I'd love to be able to say that it was a battle wound from defending a noble maiden's virtue from marauding bandits, but it was sadly just caused by a collapsing building."

"I was a curious boy, who got a little too close to watching a building getting torn down so it could get rebuilt." He shrugs in acceptance of his fate.

"That's... that's a terrible thing for one so young. You were fortunate to have your sound mind maester. Most wouldn't have achieved anything after such a fate." He swigged from his drink with a few blinks. "I am pretty sure I would have just been a drain on my family if that were me."

"Might've been a blessing in disguise, I was well down the line of succession in my House anyway. I don't know what the fates might've had in store for me otherwise, at the time I was thinking of the Night's Watch."

Oswell let out a little chuckle. "Always fancied meself as another Bran the Builder."

This earns a good few chuckles from Tal. "You are a personality! Haha!" He clinks his cup again to the maester's and then downs the contents.

"How did you end up with the Dunns then? I bet that is a good story eh?"

Oswell ponders for a moment. "The Maester's lot is to serve the Citadel, and the Citadel's function is to serve the Realm. House Dunn's last Maester had died not long before I returned to Westeros from the Free Cities, they requested a Maester with his silver link and I had just published a treatise on the nature of diseases from across the Narrow Sea that had me fresh in the mind of the Archmaester of Healing."

"Apparently I was the first name that sprung to mind, always good to know you've left an impression on your boss innit?" His cup drains as quickly as it was filled as the warmth spreads through his belly.

"What of you? Corbray yes? Might I ask your house's ties to House Wydman?"

After taking in the story, in between sips, he reasons it's more than fair to answer some of Oswell's own questions.

"None formally. I was impressed with the Wydmans and gained my family's permission to serve them for a time." He looks up and smiles. "Besides, their lands are good for building up combat experience."

"So out to prove yourself with blade in service to a greater house? A time honored tradition of younger sons. How have you found your time away from home? Everything you were looking for?"

This was a man who understood! Tal's eyes brightened!

"It's been exciting, but there is a lot to learn. I know I will never fully be part of the Wydmans yet I try to serve them as loyally as I can. I think... I think it has helped me grow." He held up a hand. "No, that isn't quite right. It continues to help me grow." Looking more satisfied at this answer he nods.

"There's a saying one of the Maesters at the Citadel told me when I first arrived. You don't stop learning till your heart stops beating."

He lifts his cup in salute. "Your learning might not be from a book, but it's no less valid. Glad to see people trying to better themselves."

"Always." Tal has a good quaff before setting his cup down. "I do actually enjoy reading too, though you would likely finish a book before I've gotten past one chapter eh?" Truly learned men could read crazy fast!

"Maybe, the Maesters at the Citadel might finish it fast, but then we have to read it another half dozen times to make sure we haven't missed any nuances or imagined symbolism or any number of a thousand other tiny details."

"I remember when I used to be able to read just for the simple pleasure of it."

"Don't tell me you've given up on poetry and fiction?" Tal asked with disbelief. A life reading only non-fiction would be unbearably dull!

"Not given up, just time restricted. It's like asking a warrior if he trains with bow, spear, swords and mace. There is only so much time in a day for us to fit pleasure beside duty."

Tal rolls his shoulders and sounds unsure. "I suppose." Having a slow sip of his cup he turns where he sits to take in more of the establishment. "It's good to be able to go somewhere like this for a drink eh?"

"As long as one knows their limits," Oswell added somewhat remorsefully.

"There are few taverns or inns in the Vale. They have to be in larger settlements where they can be protected. Prices often end up high as few towns can provide an inn everything it needs. Trade gets ambushed or the roads become dangerous. You have to pay for guards." He rubs his chin. "It'd be nice if things could be easier. Heh. I'm getting soft."

His drink was raised and the rest swallowed down. Another was soon ordered up and brought over.

Oswell looked the man up and down, he didn't seem too old, at least not compared to many. He was a knight of some good character from what the Maester had observed...

Fuck it, why not?

"There's quite a number of decent inns throughout the Reach. If only you had reason to visit?" He commented, baiting the metaphorical hook with a dangling treat.

Setting his drink down he looked back to the maester and laughed. "Hahaha! I'd not mind some travel, but the Wydmans and my own family don't have any significant ties to the Reach. Just the odd repeat trader or something like a third-cousin's brother in law or what have you." Tal chuckled a bit further. "I'd much rather transport one of your inns north somehow. That summer sun of yours would do me no good in plate eh?" It didn't sound like Talieas was really opposed, but much more that he saw it very unlikely he'd ever have a reason to travel the Reach.

Running a hand through his hair he looked up. A little hopeful. "Maybe if there was a tournament. I could likely get permission for that. That'd be something.... maybe I'd even get to joust if it wasn't as grand an affair as this one."

"Well our Lord has a daughter about to come of age. Shouild he choose to follow Lord Ashford's example I'll be sure to send an invitation your way."