The Tourney at Ashford

Kevan sent out servants to adjacent pavilions to grab available members of the Dunn entourage for an urgent meeting. He got some wine and cheese on the table and bonus chairs, but he kept his place by the desk. As he waited, he ponderously stared at the bear fur by the fireplace.

"Looks pretty well dead to me." Oswell commented as he headed in. Leaving his wheelchair near the entrance, he hobbled in on his rarely used crutches so as not to track horrendous amounts of mud into the pavilion.

Just the short few metres he had to negotiate drained him however, and he slumped heavily into one of the chairs provided.

Kevan got up to aid the Maester over the distance he had to cross on crutches, then glanced back at the fur.

"Yes, but I wasn't the one to kill it. And yet it lies at my feet. I can't decide how right or wrong that feels."

The servant who had summoned her had been quite insistent, bringing Kaliya quickly to the pavilion to find out what had disconcerted the boy to such a degree. She curtsied to the heir, her red Dornish dress rustling as she did so, the deep orange tones of the colour seeming to emanate warmth on the cool day.

"Willing to bet you didn't squeeze the grapes for that wine neither." Oswell chuckled. "Bet that doesn't cause you to ponder though now does it?"

He offers Kaliya a polite nod as he continues to probe Kevan's curious mind.

Kaelyn was refreshed, having taken the time to bathe and properly dress in the early morning hours. She left her hair down save some small beaded braids to each side. She wore the colors of House Tyrell today as she had not thought to bring anything black.

The tent flap was open and she steeled herself. She might have just been there, but she didn't need to be a blushing girl about it. She squared her shoulders.

"My Lord, Lady Kaliya, Maester Oswell." She curtsied and smiled. "How does the morning find each of you?"

"But hunting beasts seems more fundamental to my identity than squeezing grapes..." He chuckled, realising that it might not have been true in the end, and so received Kaliya with an amused smirk. "Hello, Lady Redding. Please join us. I have news. Wine?"

And then, Kaelyn entered. Admittedly, with the light of day her beauty didn't wane but the moment that had made it matter to him so much certainly had. Still, his smile stretched knowingly, with the faintest hint of lingering sadness for the fact that the world could not have accommodated what they had wished just a couple of hours before.

"Lady Kaelyn. I am fine after my morning ride and the good news I've received. My father the Lord Commander is alive and well, and should be joining us tomorrow."

"Craving a good bit of eel pie strangely enough." He answered Kaelyn with a grin. "Baker's around here can't make one worth spit. You look stunning this morning though. Off to impress some young suitor later?"

At the Maester's comment, she found herself blushing. "Thank you, Maester. I plan to meet a few people today, but I chose this to show my support for the Tyrells." She looked at Lord Kevan. "I hope that is not disagreeable, my Lord." thinking perhaps the colors might be too pointed and cause animus.

At Kevan's news, Kaelyn's face was a portrait of surprise and relief. "That's wonderful! Have we any idea what happened?"

Kaliya's eyes moved from Kevan to Kaelyn, and an eyebrow rose, just slightly.

"Wonderrful news indeed, but should we not wait forr Tomas? This good news affects us all."

The news took Oswell by surprise, a pleasant surprise but a surprise nonetheless.

"You must be greatly relieved milord."

Kaelyn pressed her hand against her stomach. Butterflies for an altogether different reason swirled. 'Will he think I lied? Or that I'm crazy? I wish Tomas were here.'

While not Tomas, Kaelyn smiled brightly as Dahlia flew in the open tent and landed on the back of a chair. Kaelyn nearly laughed. 'Perfect timing.'

"Oh, hello there. When did you get back?" she spoke quietly to the falcon, stroking what had to be some very tired wings. She'd leave her be in the tent today.

He wanted to tell Kaelyn that she looked radiant but there was enough awkwardness hanging in the air already, so he just nodded and turned toward the Maester.

"I indeed am. I suppose business as usual will return to our improvised homestead here, and my father's statuesque presence will get our house more clout in these trying times. He needs to be brought up to speed on the current affairs as soon as he arrives, presumably tonight or tomorrow morning. His wheelhouse broke on the way so he had to ride on horseback, what was challenging with his condition. The rider I had sent two days ago brought news at dawn."

He stared at the fur, which would well be not from a bear but an elephant that had been in the room until it had been mauled by two nocturnal unwitting near-elopers.

"I've gathered you here to hear your counsel on what I should tell my father about what has transpired here once he arrives."

"So, it was a simple break? No one was hurt?" She ran her fingers along Dahlia's feathers, always managing to find comfort in her. 'Conceivably he does not find me a liar after all. I shall make sure in private later, but for now, just enjoy the relief.' And by private, she meant in public. Maybe a word spoken quietly at the Joust later in the day. She fiddled with a gold ring she had put on.

Tomas wandered in, a bit messy. "Oh. Hey." He takes a seat by his sister.

Kevan Dunn wrote:"I've gathered you here to hear your counsel on what I should tell my father about what has transpired here once he arrives."

"About?" Oswell probed when no one else spoke up. "Tell him of the glory you have brought upon his house in his absence, tell him the facts about yesterday's joust. He already sees knives in the shadows, do not colour your first hand testimony with conspiracy theories. The Reach has already lost one Lord, if your father perceives another enemy making attacks against the Reach..."

"It could be good to know what is not a conspiracy theory then. I was there, I fought there, and still I am not sure what exactly transpired." Kevan replied in measured tone, but with a small, encouraging smile.

"That the mighty Lord of Storm's End has secretly sworn a pact with the Dornish to crush the Reach betwixt hammer and anvil, splitting up the spoils of war amongst themselves." Oswell orated in a very obviously piss take of the worst possible case scenario.

"If I may? Leave the questions of conspirracy for the trrial. Therre is no need to muddy the issue with theorries. Rreporrt what you know, what you saw. No morre."

"The facts arre thus: Lorrd Tyrrell was killed durring the joust when Lorrd Barratheon's lance pierrced the neck of Tyrrell's horrse. Also unhorrsed, the Lorrd Barratheon intended to continue the joust on foot, as perr the tourrney rrules. Those arre the only facts," she stressed, "anything morre is speculation."

"That would be truly grave." Kevan tried to smile it off even though he could not dismiss it entirely. "But the Baratheon did not seem on good footing with Dornish presence on the day before." Kevan paused. "What my father is more likely to believe is that there's a Dornish plot to pitch Storm's End and Highgarden against each other so as to force our hands on the peace issue."

Kevan paused, listening to Kaliya's interjection.

"I was exposed to speculation that there might have been some poison involved. After all, Lord Ashford asked the Storm to stand down, to what the latter objected and called his hired sellswords upon. It's hard to omit that part."

Kevan Dunn wrote:"I was exposed to speculation that there might have been some poison involved. After all, Lord Ashford asked the Storm to stand down, to what the latter objected and called his hired sellswords upon. It's hard to omit that part."

"Even if that was the case, by now there'll be no way to prove it short of a confession from the poisoner. There'll be no test we can run, a living man's body will metabolise any substance far too quickly. If he had died there may have been some way but..."

Oswell looks up and shrugs. "Sorry, oversharing again."

"No, no, Maester. Please continue. Is there a substance that could have caused the kind of behaviour Laughing Storm exuded, with the timing and everything else involved? If so, how would it have been administered?"

"Well....."

Healing/Diagnosis roll result=25 (Heroic success)

"There's nothing I can think of that could be administered, effective and then dissipate so quickly. Maybe he's just better with that big axe than the lance? Sturdier on his own feet than the galloping beast."

Running through all the possibilities, and discarding them one after the other.

"No, I don't think he was affected by anything other than way too much wine or ale."

Kaelyn had been listening up until this point. She'd smiled warmly to her brother as he came in and took a seat. "The Lord Commander is sure to be in a sour mood upon arrival. Coming by horseback all this way will have been very stressful on both his mind and body. We should make preparations for the latter as well as the former. Maester, do you have any suggestions on what we could do to make him more comfortable before we tell him of Lord Tyrell and the events surrounding his death?"

"The idea that poison could have been involved frightens me a bit. It is said that poison is a woman's weapon and also a Dornish one. 2 of the 3 Dornish at this event are in this room." She took Kaliya's hand unconsciously. "I don't want the Lord Commander to doubt his own family."

Kevan nodded. "Maester Oswell says that there could not have been any poison involved. His wise word is good enough for me, as it has always been, and I think it will be for my father as well." Kevan reassured Kaelyn. "He is just a diligent man and might be asking questions I'd rather have some answers for." He paused. "Way too much ale... Does the Baratheon have a reputation for reckless drunkenness, or could it have been situational?"