The Tourney at Ashford

Warryn was at the edge of camp Dunn, awaiting with his schrodinger's comrades. It was a time to talk! Hopefully.

"Lord Warryn." Kaelyn approached softly with a warm smile, contradicting the weather in this. She curtsied. "It's a pleasure to see you again. I saw you compete yesterday. I cheered your victory."

"Fucking rain." Oswell cursed in a most undignified manner as he drew closer to the main pavilion of the compound only to have one of his wheels get stuck in the mud...again.

"Hey there. Yeah you." He hollered at Warryn's back, unable to notice the man's face or heraldry from this angle. "Help an old man out? I'm supposed to be meeting a Warryn Wydman, but I've gotten a bit stuck in the mud."

Warryn bowed to the Dunnlady. "I apprecaite it melady." He heard a holler, smiled and moved towards the old man. "But of course. When I meet this Warryn Wydman, I'll tell him what a right bastard he is for dragging decent old folk like you around."

He stepped in to help without upsetting the old man's.... thingamagig.

"Those aren't our house colors," Oswell muttered with a mental facepalm when Warryn drew close. "Guessing I owe you an apology good Ser. The Mother's blessing upon you for helping them who can't help themselves. Maester Oswell at your service."

Warryn laughed. "You owe me nothing but a bit of your time Maester." He smiled and winked at Kaelyn. "It is bad weather for such a.... whatever that is." Bright, he ain't. "If I'd known, I'd have come to your place... or even closer, I guess. Still, thank you for your time, both of you."

Kaliya approached delicately, the hem of her dress was slightly higher than the previous day's gowns, and that was mostly keeping it out of the mud. Embroidered on the dress were grapes on the vine, representing the vineyards of House Redding, the grey-blue fabric seemed most suited to the inclement weather.

Approaching the maester, she lightly touched his shoulder and favoured him with a sweet smile before offering Warryn a polite curtsy.

"Can't ask for much more close than this. I just happened to pick out the one blasted wet patch still around." Oswell explained to Warryn.

He offers a smile to Kaleyn as he manages to wheel himself up.

"How have you been milady? Haven't seen much of you around since we arrived. Apologies for not making more of an effort to see how you were settling."

Kaelyn touched a finger to her chin and looking into Lord Warryn's eyes as he winked.

"No Maester, don't apologize. It's I who should have come to you. I've been very well. Except you know me and storms. Not my favorite type of weather. How have you been?"

Warryn bowed to the newcomer lady too. "I am not sure if we have met milady. Ser Warryn Wydman, heir to Old Peake."

He glanced around at the gathering. "Thank you all for meeting me. I believe some of my compatriots will be joining us soon."

Oswell presses his hand upon Kaliya's for a split second, squeezing it in greeting.

"You and I both Lady Dunn, though for different reasons. I have been well, but busy. In a setting such as this, a healers work is never done."

"Lady Kaliya Rredding," she answered Warryn in her strong Dornish accent, "it is an honourr to meet you. Yourr showing in the jousting has been most spectacularr."

Arriving a little late came Ywain having been forced to turn back for more practical footwear. He seemed fairly comfortable in his well used rain cloak however. "Sorry for my lateness. Mud and all that," he gave a bow to the ladies, "Ser Ywain Kestrel at your service."

Talieas, accompanying Ywain, also offered a bow. "Talieas Corbray. How do you do?" He was wearing rain boots and more practical than rich clothes this afternoon. A friendly smile briefly shows, and he does nod to Kaliya, but otherwise he stays out of the way.

"Well, we're all here." Said Warryn as he heaved the poor Maester's devilish gizmo. "Shall we move to somewhere drier to talk?"

With a smile for Talieas, Kaliya linked arms with Kaelyn and escorted her into the central pavilion where a table had been set up for their meeting, and servants stood by with mulled mine and hot cider to chase away the chill.

"Best you leave the talking to me, and take care how you behave. Rrememberr ourr discussion on the rribbons." Even as she hissed this to the girl sotto voce, her smile remained warm and pleasant.

"I shan't decline such a generous offer." Oswell replied to Warryn, after greeting the other representatives of House Wydman.

Tomas is curious about the commotion and approaches the group. He waits to be acknowledge before interrupting. He suspects this is not a bastard's place.

Kaliya nodded to the boy, indicating that he may observe the proceedings if he wish, though she imagined it would be incredibly dull for him. She placed a finger to her lips, gesturing for him to keep quiet.

Tomas quietly took place by his sister. He probably would find it boring, but he'd be here if sister needed him for something.

"Ser Ywain, Ser Talieas. It's an honor." Kaelyn greeted, lowering her eyes and curtsying as the gentlemen arrived.

She had to admit she was relieved when Kaliya offered to do most of the talking. Casting a glance around, she noticed her brother walking along side her. She smiled and winked at him.

Warryn followed, wheeling the maester as he walked. "Thank you everyone." There was an imbalance as he walked. "I hope all is well with everyone?"

Tomas gives his sister a nod and falls in line.

Kaliya moved to the table, positioning herself beside the maester, with Kaelyn on the other side. Gracefully, she gestured for the three Valemen to take their seats opposite. It was probably better that Kevan had made himself inconveniently scarce, as Tomas tipped the scales towards the Dunn side being a little overcrowded.

"We arre most honourred to host you, Lorrd Wydman, Serr Talieas, Serr Ywain. I am Lady Kaliya Rredding." She placed her hand gently on Oswell's shoulder, "ourr maester, Oswell; the Lady Kaelyn Dunn, cousin to the Lorrd Heirr; and this young futurre knight is Tomas Flowerrs." Her strong Dornish accent purred, "please, be seated." She signalled to the servants to begin offering the warm drinks to those attending.

Oswell, as was his way in such meetings, was happy to let someone with more political savvy take centre stage. He would add his wisdom when the time was right, but for now he was just keeping a close eye on Ser Warryn, hoping that the wounds he suffered in the joust would not hamper him too much.