(1866-03-02) Night at the Firebrand Inn
A Night at the Firebrand Inn
Summary: Trisan goes to the Firebrand Inn to put some things into motion. He runs into two unexpected people. Later Jaelynn shows up and even more fun happens.
Date: Mar 02, 1866
Related: None
NPCs: {$npc}
Players:
Jaelynn  Oberyn  Raevyn  Rosalyn  Tristan  

The Firebrand Inn, Firen

The Firebrand Inn is one of the more popular places within Firen with a constant flow of patrons looking for a room or just coming in for a tankard of ale or a bowl of stew. A fire burns merrily in the fireplace on all but the warmest of days, lending a cheery glow as well as the warmth and hominess that is appreciated by all.

Tables are evenly spaced, allowing for the serving wenches to move about the room easily, and almost always occupied as are the tall stools that sit before the finely-polished bar. Sounds of laughter and conversation rings though the air, lending a festiveness to the atmosphere, and music can also be heard as bards and entertainers often perform, enticing the patrons to join in.

From the main room one will find a staircase that leads to the rooms upstairs and a door behind the bar that leads towards the kitchen.

Mar 02, 1866

It had been some time since Tristan last visited the Firebrand Inn. Granted, he had found himself somewhat busy since his return to Firen with various clandestine… activities and all. It was about time for him to go out and have a nice little evening in a rather comfortable location and get something good to drink and to enjoy the sight of the lovely wenches as they moved from table to table. For a few moments he just enjoys the sight of the place, remaining in the doorway as he glances around. Grinning, he steps forward and moves into the room.

Tonight he is a little overdressed for the place, but that tends to be the case most nights. Probably for that very reason two Royal Lancers come into the Firebrand moments after him and after Tristan seats himself at one of his favorite tables, the two Lancers take seats at a table that is close enough to become available if trouble rears its head but far enough to give the Romante any privacy he might desire. As a wench passes by, he raises a hand. "A bottle of your best brandy if you please."

<FS3> Raevyn rolls Perception: Good Success.

Rosalyn as been here awhile now. The Romante Lady sits at a secluded table in the corner by herself. Dressed in a striking gown of emerald green satin she stands out a bit in the sea of people, however she seems to be here alone. A book is open on the table in front of her and she reads over the pages eagerly. Its a rather thick book and its certainly not written in the common tongue either but the young womans fascinated expression shows that she can still read and understand it. A half filled goblet of red wine is in one small hand and she sips idly from it as she reads. Glancing up breifly her eyes scan the area carefully and he brow furrows a bit in thought. A glance out the door as its opened reveals that its evening and those blue eyes widen a bit in surprise. She bites her lower lip and takes a slow sip of wine as she considers something or other.

Raevyn attends the bar, as he was seated so on previous nights. He's wearing a tunic of gold and white brocade, set over a pair of brown trousers, finished with a cloak that actually hangs over the back of his chair rather than on his shoulders. He's got his bar chair turned toward the entertainment, which tonight seems to be a comedy, aligned in some parody of the recent events and rumours circulating Galenthia. The laughter catches for those who are sitting closer to the actors and dims for those who are sitting too far back to hear the catch phrases. It's the green and black of the Lancer uniform that does catch in young Raevyn's eye, having been hauled out by such men before, though the Romante responsible is not the one that sits down. No, the Romante who had been responsible for such treatment had dark hair versus the blond hair of the gentlemen that occupies a table. No doubt, Raevyn will be one of many who turn to look, but one of the few to be relieved that it wasn't a different Romante.

<FS3> Tristan rolls Sleight Of Hand: Good Success.

Okay, so perhaps all of his motives for going out tonight were not exactly pure and noble. When a serving wench comes to place a bottle of brandy and a snifter in front of him, Tristan extracts a small note from a sleeve hidden in a pocket in his sleeve and passes it along to her. He offers a faint smile and shifts his attention to the brandy, rubbing his hands in anticipation. Taking the bottle in hand, he pours out a healthy measure into the glass. Leaning back in his seat, he picks up the glass and swirls the liquid around for a moment before lifting it to his lips and taking a sip. Yep, just as good as he thought it would be. Priorities done, he lets his gaze drift around the room, smirking when he hears the contents of the play that is going on.

<FS3> Raevyn rolls Perception: Good Success.
<FS3> Raevyn rolls Streetwise: Failure.
<FS3> Rosalyn rolls Perception: Success.

The play draws a look of breif interest from Rosalyn. She smiles faintly at the contents of the play and then her eyes go back to sweeping the room once more. She spots Raevyn sitting at the bar and she seems to consider getting up to go over there and speak with him. Looking back to the text that she had been reading she gently closes the book and glances up once more trying to meet Raevyn's eyes. The two Royal Lancers are noticed and she stiffens a bit studying the man they entered with now. Tristan is watched for a moment and then the Lady decides it might be best to sneak out while she is still ahead and not in trouble for not having a guard with her. Setting her wine down she picks up her book and rises slowly. The bright green of her satin dress is sure to draw some attention but Rosalyn seems to be determined to slip past the other Romante and outside without being noticed. Still determination does not mean she will accomplish this goal and she is absolutely terrible at sneaking around. She nearly bumps into someone as she walks past the bar and her cheeks flush as she tries to avoid stumbling into anyone else.

The young man, whose eyes were fixed on the Romante (not yet knowing he was in fact one - just important enough to be guarded by Lancers), spots the movement in which transfers a note from the sleeve of Tristan to the wench whose serving the Lord. If there's any connection to any clandestine intentions to be realized it apparently doesn't strike the young man that way, instead he turns his eyes aside to allow the noble man his privacy in securing a good romp for the evening (as one can assume). Raevyn picks up his glass of wine, to sip on it as his attention eventually retreats from the noble lord toward the comedy ahead. His back was in fact turned from Rosalyn, so he does not yet know she is there, not initially! It wasn't until she causes a ruckus by trying to avoid someone as she walks by the bar, that Raevyn does see her. He also sees the collision course about to occur and steps off his chair with fast enough reflexes to snag her around the waist to wheel her in, so she avoids being run over by a group of rabble rousers pushing through with beer steins lifted, too occupied in bawdy laughter and jokes to notice her attempt to flee. "Lady Rosalyn," he croons warmly as his eyes watch the burly types go one by being none the wiser that they nearly squished a Romante, only then does his arm let her loose, "It is a welcomed sight to see you again." As if nothing happened.

A part of Tristan's mind wonders if this next little affair he will involve himself in will be as productive as the first, though the thought doesn't linger for long. He had to hope that things would progress well enough and that something would come out of it. So he takes another sip to try and clear his mind of all such thoughts. The rest of this night should be about having some level of enjoyment, not worrying over affairs of the realm.

Letting his eyes dance around the room again, he spots the woman in the green dress and frowns slightly. Placing his glass down on the table, he waves over one of the wenches. He points at the woman who now appears to be talking to a young man. "Please direct the two of them to come and join me if they will be so kind. See what they are drinking and refill it please." He offers the girl a smile and then lets his eyes remain on Rosalyn and Raevyn.

Blue eyes widen in shock as an arm encircles Rosalyn's waist. The red haired Romante is pulled out of the way just in time and watches as the men pass by without running her down. Her head turns to thank whoever pulled her to safety only for her eyes to shine with delight when she spots Raevyn. He releases her and she smiles warmly at him her cheeks stained with a light blush. "Hello again Raevyn, it is lovely to see you again as well." She looks like she is about to say something else but then the serving wench comes over and speaks quietly to the Lady. Rosalyn's eyes widen again and she glances to Tristan shyly looking a touch nervous. Looking back to Raevyn she smiles nevously. "Apparently someone wishes to speak with us both." She glances back at Tristan and worries her bottom lip a little, nibbling on it and then glacing back to Raevyn. "Come with me…please? I believe he is one of my more important cousins." She will start in that direction pausing a moment to see if Raevyn will follow her.

Not only will Raevyn follow her, but he will delight in giving her a proper escort with his arm extended to her and everything. The young man is aware of his posture and ensures to press it into one of easy confidence, much like the merchant son's around these parts do, a tad snobbish as if trying to establish equal footing with the noblemen. His eyes will flash to Tristan as the invitation from the wench directs them to the patron of the Inn, which, at one time he would've high tailed it the hell out of the Inn, but now puts on that brave face. He actually smiles to Tristan before nodding to Rosalyn, "I shall be delighted to accompany you my Lady." A lower tone is whispered for the worrying of the bottom lip, "It seems we are yet to dance together again, just on a different stage." He winks to her, going with her whether or not she takes his arm, more proudly if she does.

For the time being, Tristan continues to work on his brandy, his eyes taking in the other patrons of the Firebrand, ever watchful and curious to see who might be lurking here. Who knows, perhaps he might see someone who he is far more familiar with. When the pair approach his table, he glances up at them with a small smile. "Good evening. Please, have a seat." He gestures to two empty seats. "One of the serving girls will be by momentarily to take your orders, feel free to order whatever you want when they do. Now then." He places his glass down and clasps his hands together in front of him, glancing between Rosalyn and Raevyn. "Allow me to be the host, my name is Tristan." His eyes move to Rosalyn. "I believe you are a distant relation as I remember seeing you once or twice, but I do hope you will forgive me, may I have your name again? And please, introduce your companion." His lips twitch upwards at the corners after saying the last word.

Rosalyn accepts Raevyn's arm with a soft smile. The young mans confidence seems to bolster her own self esteem a bit and she walks over to Tristan's table with her companion. The small smile he gives is returned by the Lady and she offers a polite curtsey of greeting before taking one of the empty seats setting the book she still carries in her free hand onto the table in an out of the way spot. Even the cover of the book is written in a forgien language and unable to be read unless one happens to know Imperial Common. Rosalyn studies Tristan a moment now. "Good evening to you Lord Tristan and thank you very much for the invitation to join you." She smiles faintly once again and offers a nod as he mentions them being distant relations. "Indeed I do recall seeing you a few times as well, my name is Rosalyn Romante." She glances to Raevyn and offers him a soft reassuring smile. "And may I present Master Raevyn, he is a visitor to Firen from Four Corners I believe?" She looks to Raevyn for confirmation of this and then glances back to Tristan. When the serving wench comes to take orders she will order a goblet of red wine for herself, not the most expensive red wine on offer but one of the better varities. Looking back to her host he head tilts a look of curiousity in her gaze now, likely wondering why she was summoned over to join him in the first place.

Raevyn will even aid the Lady Rosalyn in arranging herself to sit, before he himself drops to a seat next to her, offerng to the Lord, "Good evening. Thank you for the invitation to join you, my Lord." Everyone was a Lord from where Raevyn was sitting and it was safer to flatter than to miss the mark when it came to titles. He gives a gracious nod for the kind gesture, folding his hands across his midsection rather comfortably as one knee draws up to settle over the other. When Rosalyn sounds unsure of where he's from, he offers an encouraging nod and smile for it, bowing his head to Tristan for further confirmation, "It was a long journey from Four Corners, but my associate had business here to address and she wished me to come along." He calls her an 'associate' now when the previous night with Rosalyn he mentioned her as a 'mentor' … Either he feels the need to make the change or something had changed to his status. He also orders the same variety of wine that Rosalyn selects, turning an eye upon her to see if she questions the Lord and seeing that she doesn't, he offers, "What do we owe the pleasure, my Lord?"

Tristan's eyes glance downward at the book and his eyebrows lift slightly. "Rosalyn, yes, I remember now. It has been a while, but I hope you are doing well. I see you are studying… something." He hesitates slightly, gesturing lightly to her book. "Master Raevyn, from Four Corners? A long way from home, but yes a city I am well acquainted with. I have spent a good deal of time there this past year it seems. I hope nothing ill happened to you during that raid? Nasty business, that." He gives the man a sympathetic nod and goes silent as a wench comes to their table to deliver drinks to Rosalyn and Raevyn. Tristan takes the moment to refill his snifter. Once the wench has departed he offers Raevyn a slight smile. "No reason really, I thought I recognized my cousin here and simply wished to get reacquainted with her. I hope it is not rude of me to ask this, Master Raevyn, but may I ask who your associate is? Perhaps I know him or her. Again, always good to keep up acquaintanceships."

"I am doing quite well, thank you for asking." The glance to her book is noticed and she smiles warmly. "Its written in Imperial Common if you are curious, a text on medical practices and the theory behind them. Most would find it rather dull I'm afraid but I find it interesting and rather useful in increasing my knowledge of healing." She glances between the two men listening as Tristan adresses Raevyn. A look of concern crosses the Lady's features when the raid is mentioned. "Yes…that was a tragic occurance. I hope you and those you know were kept safe." She admits honestly and reaches for her newly arrived gobelet of wine. Lifting it she takes a slow sip offering Tristan a small smile. "Well I am glad for the offer. It is always nice to speak with family. I hope you are doing well yourself Lord Tristan?" She takes another sip of wine glancing from Raevyn to Tristan and back again, paying them both attention as they speak.

Raevyn smiles at Tristan's admission to spending a fair time in the city, which pushes Raevyn to admit when Rosalyn adds her concern, "I'm actually quite new there myself. I was fortunate not to be a part of the raid." A subject matter that doesn't seem to bother the young man in the least, which could point to his sincerity in his words or prove he's a good liar. He turns to accept the wine and to give his gratitude to the wench, taking a sip of wine while Tristan answers his question and asks one of his own. "I have spoken of my associate far too often now to hide it, in fact," he glances over to Rosalyn, "The Lady Rosalyn has met with her also, a few nights passed, when I had the pleasure of meeting Rosalyn for the first time. My associate, my Lord Tristan," here he gives a dramatic pause, "Is none other than the Pearl of Four Corners. A name you should be familiar with, if you've spent such time in the city." He needs not say anymore, as his eyes glint with mirth over the reveal that he was indeed, following the same path as Julieta. Though he sees no immediate name to state her more than that, for her famous name should carry as much as it needs to in current conversation.

Tristan blinks once in surprise. "Ah, she is here… in Firen? Well now, that is a rather interesting turn of events." He leans back in his seat, sipping from his snifter, considering this. "How long will she be here for?" The Pearl's presence in the city was an opportunity that he shouldn't pass up. He would have to make use of that information. Nodding slowly, he turns to Rosalyn. "Imperial Common you say? Well, it is good to learn things, even if some find it boring. Who knows? Perhaps you will find something that will be vitally important in some circumstance. I encourage you to keep learning new things. I try to do it myself, but sometimes it is difficult to learn and remember the name's of all the palace maids." He flashes an amused smile. "Oh, I kid of course. As to myself? I am doing quite well. It is always nice to be here in Firen. Far more pleaasant than some other places I have been lately."

Jaelynn comes in from outside and she looks around, her eyes land on Tristan and she inclines her head in his direction. The Lady makes a bit of haste to be reaching his table, she is holding in her hand a blood stained cloth wrapped about an object. The woman approaches but dose not say anything immediately - trying not to be rude to his company.

<FS3> Raevyn rolls Perception: Success.
<FS3> Tristan rolls Perception: Amazing Success.

The courtesan, for that is what he is or will be, shows amusement at the surprise on Tristan's face, even chuckling delightedly for the man's response. "Oh yes, she does get that response quite often when I drop her name," he's helping after all, "Obviously you know of her. We're here for a while longer, I pressume. We've no schedule carved in stone. She'd be thrilled to see you, I can guess." A twinkle in his eye, "I can pass along the message for her that you'd like to see her. I am after all, marooned here with her." A dreadful turn that seems to be, as the young man seems thoroughly pleased. So pleased, that he misses Jaelynn's approach with the bloodied cloth.

The Romante Lord offers Raevyn a slight smile. "If you could let her know that I am interested in seeing her again, I would appreciate it. She is a most delightful companion, I almost wish she would consider the…" He pauses, considering that and then shaking his head. No, Julieta would be better off remaining in Four Corners than coming to Firen, even if he thinks that she would suit Galenthia better than that other city.

"Lady Jaelynn?" Tristan's eyes widen at the sight of the woman as she comes approaching his table with what appears to be a broken blade in a cloth with fresh blood. He stands up quickly, moving to her side. "Are you injured? What has happened? Where did you get that?" The questions escape him one after the other. He glances over at one of the Royal Lancers who is nearby. "Go see if anything is amiss outside and return immediately." The man nods quickly and trudges off to do as ordered.

Jaelynn looks to be in somewhat of a shock. She leans in to whisper to him to deliver the news to him. She whispers answers back and then offers him the blade. She sits down and rubs her eyes slightly.

(whisper) A knight out there had this stuck into his shoulder. He claimed his younger Lancer did it to him as they were sparing or throwing… or playing with the knives.. I really do not know. I pulled it free, and when I asked him for payment, he…kissed me. The Nerve of him!

"I will tell her," there is a curious look at the comment that is not yet completed, and he would ask on it, save for the intervention that comes in the form of BLOOD. Raevyn transforms into a shell shocked observer when the blade is brought forward and covered in blood. Did he just witness a woman of noble birth handing a bloodied blade over to Tristan? Yes. Yes he did. His eyes move from the blade to the woman who sits down without a word to the rest of the table. Raevyn just sort of stares at her. Finally, "Are you okay?" and then he's no longer just a companion of good looks, he's lighting out of his chair and dashing back to where he left his cloak, being quick about it as he to and fro… Once he's back, wordlessly, his arms wrap the cloak around Jaelynn's shoulders. Warmth was good for shock victims.

<FS3> Raevyn rolls Healer: Good Success.

The Royal Lancer that Tristan dispatched outside returns and reports that there seemed to be a bit of a training accident. Frowning, Tristan takes the bloody blade and holds it away from him. Ew. Glancing over to Raevyn as he seems to try and minister some aide to Jaelynn, he asks, "Have you any skill with healing? It seems some knights got into a bit of a fuss up while training. Would you mind having a look? I would be grateful." To Jaelynn, he offers a slight smile. "Come now, my Lady, let us see to this matter outside and then I will escort you home."

As his hands are trying to rub warmth down the arms of Jaelynn, out of instinct, Raevyn's eyes draw up at the ask from Tristan, "Yes m'lord," falling back into the common tongue by slurring the m'lord together, "I know the craft." Surprising as that might seem from a Courtesan of all people. "I can go see to it, though I do not have supplies m'lord." Up a creek with no paddle, "Best we can do is aid the fellow to the nearest healer's den."

Jaelynn says, "I healed him fine M'lord, but no payment other then what was told to you.." she says and as she is touched she leaps out of the chair straightening her dress, she turns and nods stiffly to Tristan. She turns to leave with the Lord, without any look or care for the companion who came to her aid.

Eeep?! Yes that's the sound that could squeak out of Raevyn's mouth at the sudden leap the Lady makes from her chair. His hands go up to show he didn't mean no harm, giving her a wide birth, regardless, following behind.

Tristan blinks at Jaelynn's reaction and then holds out a hand, placating. "Okay, my Lady, let us see you home." He glances over to Raevyn. "If you could see to the man outside, I would appreciate it." He makes a small gesture and produces two gold coins and hands it over to him. "For your efforts." He then turns to Jaelynn and holds out a arm… cautiously. "My Lady, let us head outside." He gestures to the two Lancers, pointing to one man. "See that Sir Oberyn gets back in good health once he has been seen to." Then to the other. "Keep a watchful eye out." He nods to them both and then heads to the door.

Marketplace, Firen

The marketplace is the most central hub of Firen and is abuzz with activity with peddlers hawking their wares and citizens and visitors alike wandering to take in the sights as well as buy whatever they might need for their day. Everything from fresh fish, meats, produce and other foodstuff as well as textiles, animals and other items up for sale, some of which are from other lands.

Buildings can also be found, a lot of which seem to make up the outer perimeter of the marketplace proper, with inns and taverns, bakeries and other such businesses being what can be found.

Regardless of what time of day or night it is, guards can be found wandering the area, their presence meant to help keep the peace within the city with special attention paid to the west where the docks can be found.

Mar 02, 1866

Jaelynn has her hand on Lord Tristans arm and she trembles though has taken great offence to the things that have come to pass. She calms a little as the Lord offers her some payment and she nods her head quietly. Now.. the lady is simply there beside Tristan her hand on his arm gently.

Oberyn is still in the chair but he's slumped over breathing more heavily while one of the other Lancers is in front of him on a knee and he's holding what Jaelynn handed Oberyn. Both of the other Lancer's look concerned. Oberyn is holding his side still and there is the sword on the ground beside him and there is blood there and the bottle of alcohol which is mostly empty from wound cleaning.

Raevyn isn't going to say no to gold! Imagine what he could -eat- and -drink- with those gold coins. He doesn't pocket the quickly at all. In fact, the young man just -stares- at them, as if he's never touched gold before. His eyes widened to saucers that would match the size of the coins themselves! Before he could bluster on about the gold, Tristan and Jaelynn have gone ahead and he's scrambling to catch up. GOLD! His fingers clamped around the coins. More money than he's ever seen in his life before! GOLD! It was truly amazing. And for what service? As he tags along with the nobility, he comes to see the slumped over Lancer. "Sir Oberyn?!" Apparently knowing the man, the lionhearted. Raevyn has done well to get around in his time in Firen, slipping over toward the Lancer's side, trying to get a precise picture of where the Lancer was injured.

"Sir Oberyn, are you well? I have heard that you were injured in a bit of training." Tristan gives the Royal Lancer a concerned look and then gestures towards Raevyn. "This man will see how bad things are, but if you can move, I must insist that you all be away from here. It would not be seemly for a number of Royal Lancers to be seen here in this condition. There are reputations to be maintained and all." He glances over to Jaelynn for the briefest of moments and then back towards the gathered lancers, sighing. "I must see the lady home, but I do hope you have not been hurt too badly, Sir Oberyn. After all, we will have need of all of you in the coming weeks and months." Nodding a farewell to Raevyn and then the gathered Lancers he turns towards Jaelynn and gestures ahead of him. "Come, Lady Jaelynn, let us see you home for the evening."

Jaelynn moves to follow Tristan, she hiccups a little before following the Lord, in fact if she were a Lady from any other house the situation may had been different but the young noble was brought up rather strickly. She moves with Tristan slowly.

Oberyn lifts his eyes up and sees Raevyn and then sees Tristan. "Oh milord." He grins warmly at Tristan. He whispers rather loudly to Raevyn. "He's the attractive Romante." He's not himself. "The ladies love him. He's dashing, charming, and just look at him. I feel envy but gosh I wish I could be that sauve." He nods and then sees the lady and realizes. "Oh she was a lady. Oh I messed up." He winces. "I really messed up, Raevyn." He grips the man as he is helped up by his fellow Lancers. "You all should follow him. He's our charge. Follow the Romante in the tight pants." He orders his friends as he leans against Raevyn. He's rather heavy.

Tristan pauses and turns towards Oberyn. The attractive Romante. Huh, this comment amused him entirely too much, though the comment about tight pants does not. "I do not wear tight pants. They are so uncomfortable and entirely not suited for… things." He snorts and then waves a few of the Lancers towards Oberyn. "Help your comrade, I will be well enough with a small escort." He offers nods to Oberyn and Raevyn and then moves away with Jaelynn. "My apologies, Lady Jaelynn. It seems that Sir Oberyn might have suffered some blood loss from his injury. I am sure he will be back to normal after he has had a chance to rest."

Raevyn appears concerned, though the loud whisper has him shooting a look back to Tristan, to admire as the Lancer does point out some agreeable traits. He does feel himself chuckle though, quietly, but it's there, mirth replacing the earlier worry. Then he's suddenly being hauled on by the Lancer, not of the same body type as the other Lancers, so clearly, supporting the dead drunken weight of one won't really do so well here. He actually pleads with the one Lancer, "I can't carry him!" As in, don't freaking leave me alone buddy! To Oberyn, he tries to coddle, "We all do things we regret. In the morning it won't be so bad, once you're fixed up. Shock and blood loss, yes, mess with one's ability to cope with situations-" added loud enough for Tristan and Jaelynn both.

Oberyn is helped up and lifted carefully. "Oh…things. I know the things." He nods slowly. "Things. I don't know the things." He frowns. "Milord Romante… I'd die for you." He puts his fist to his chest. "You are special and don't let anyone tell you different." The other lancers start pulling him away. "But I love all Romante." He grumbles to his friends and then stares at Raevyn. "Did he hear me?" He grumbles as he starts to stumble slightly as his eyes start to close.

<FS3> Tristan rolls Perception: Great Success.

For the briefest of moments, as Tristan is walking away, escorting Jaelynn home, his ears catch the words from Oberyn, and he turns his head to glance towards the Royal Lancer, a thoughtful expression on his face. Interesting. He wondered if the man would so readily go with him in the coming days when he had to meet with another crime family. Food for thought. Most definitely some food for thought.

<FS3> Raevyn rolls Perception: Success.
<FS3> Raevyn rolls Stealth: Good Success.
<FS3> Raevyn rolls Streetwise: Failure.

Raevyn is clearly at a loss of how to handle this man, allowing the Lancers to do the bulk of the work in hauling the heavy bloke somewhere safer. He does add, a touch as his eyes dart over toward Tristan and back to Oberyn, "I think he heard Sir," even if it wasn't true, it needed to be said. "You're very brave. Let's get you to …" his eyes searching the Lancers, as they add in the blank - "the barracks." Raevyn will for the most part follow until they approach the palace. That's when he's got his heels dug in like a cat being dragged toward water. He actually finds a way to slip the Lancers before they notice he's made off. They might report him to Tristan later, but sometimes, fear wins out…

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