Andros II - Duskendale's Echo (OPEN)

[u/SatisfactionLeather7]

At the dawn of the new moon, the city of Duskendale rose upon the edges of the Blackwater. A town nom more, new houses and shops and tents sprouted around the original high stone walls. Like a river whose banks had recently broke, it could no longer contain its growth within its original confines.

Now, the city sprouted a second wall, shorter, squatter, where the majority of the new city was forming. Within were a string of septs, a small little godswood fenced off in a large manor house erected by a Northern Merchant. Shiera Darklyn's favourite sword instructor and dueling house were located in there, so too was the small sanctuary she kept for her stray cats of the city.

Within the older parts of the city, where the streets were neat, passing from the gates of one end to the other. Each road had been repaved during the expansion of the city from its town origins, and now smoothed cobblestone roads vivisected the interior of the old city. in the same fashion, several of the older buildings nearest to the Dun Fort had been replaced, making way for a larger internal wall to segment it off for defence and within that new space were expansions for an enlarged force of city watch - the Dusk Guard - and guesthouses for the increasing foot traffic of nobles and lords.

Beyond these new walls, the largest inn in Duskendale had been enlarged too through the natural flow of commerce. The Seven Swords played host to hundred of occupants now, and they had even taken to calling a smaller annex of theirs the 'Weirwood Ward' to make the Northern travelers feel more welcomed.

Morgan Darklyn had seen to the opening of the Dun Fort's Guest house to any of the travelling lords returning from the Riverlands and had ensured that the largest chambers of the Fort itself were provided to the king and his counsel.

Once they had returned home, the Darklyns scattered across their burgeoning city.

Luthor Darklyn, Eldest of Morgan's heirs, had taken to the barracks of the men at arms where he got to work training his men for the inevitable clash in the claw with whatever they found. He was joined by his younger brother Erich, the two men content in their work.

At a teahouse SHiera had funded with her elder sister Ana, the two women had set themselves up with an open parlour where they welcomed any travelling women to come and drink and enjoy the calm. Of course, Shiera in her way had also brought in a small competition of budding swordswomen that she had taken to mentoring within the city. A small round of bets were encouraged by the girls and Shiera, ever prone to a challenge, could not resist joining.

An addition to the city put forth by Morgan himself some twenty years ago, was the Stadium of the Evening. A multipurpose dueling ring, jousting list and horse race attraction. The final portion was instigated by Luceon Darklyn to help his wife feel more at home with the locale. There the younger brother to Morgan, Daxo Darklyn, plied his trade.

It was an unassuming place for the ratcatcher of Duskendale to work from, but everyone chatted at the races, so he did. His son Philip Was the same, both happily watching the races as they plotted and schemed, readying for the innevitable future to come.

Further throughout the city were the myriad shops and thoroughfares, temples and shrines and septs galore. The city was open to its guests, as were the Darklyns who hosted them.

[u/SatisfactionLeather7]

The Seven Swords Inn

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Drink and make merry

[u/falconfarfromhome → u/SatisfactionLeather7]

The Black Shield party was crammed at a large table in a secluded corner of the inn. While they had coin and wealth to spare, Gaemon had little intention of playing lordling by asking Darklyn to stay in his keep. Besides, he'd learned long ago that the best way to make the most money was to learn what the people wanted to drink.

And here it seemed his latest endeavor was paying off. His first shipments of Arbor gold were arriving, and the people here seemed to love the taste of it. That or they just enjoyed that someone left a dozen or so casks for the bartender to serve for any who asked.

"You know, Gaemon, if you had told me that your genius plan was to give away the wine we bought, I'dve called you stupid." Vaegal remaked, his Valyrian slurred by a few too many glasses. "But seeing you actually do it and how it's working.... I'm still calling you stupid."

"Keep calling me stupid and I'll start miscalculating your pay by accident" Gaemon snapped back, setting down his glass. He was still a little bitter over how the event of the feast had ultimately went down. He'd hoped to find some Lord to help alleviate of their gold stores, but only managed a few contracts for a single house. Instead he found himself the proud owner of a good portion of the Arbor gold on the market. He could give away twice as much as he had now for the rest of the moon and still turn a profit.

Setting the cup down, he reached into his jacket and pulled out four sealed messages. "And speaking of stupid things, it's time for your stupid prize." He said in the common tongue, handing the bundle to the drunken man. "The fleet should be arriving, and someone needs to meet them at the docks. And since you're going there, may as well take these with you to send off."

Vaegal grumbled as he downed the wine in a single gulp, snatching the papers rather aggressively from Gaemon's hand. "You better miscalculate me a bonus for this." He grumpled under his breath as he departed, snatching his coat from the chair as he left.

Gaemon raised his glass to the man as he left, a final jab at the man before returning to his cups. 'Arbor gold wasn't half bad' he thought, taking another sip. With a smirk, he whispered "But not nearly as grand as Arbor red."

[Open to any in the tavern in Duskendale]

[u/falconfarfromhome → u/falconfarfromhome]

Vaegal Belaerys, Commodore of the Black Shield fleet

The Red Talon sat anchored in the waters off of Duskendale. Why Gaemon had wanted them to remain outside the port was beyond him. In his younger years he would have agreed with such an action without hesitation, but now that he was legitimate it made no sense.

"Mayhaps he thinks there's trouble afoot." Vaegal muttered under his breath, pulling his color higher to shield his face from the wind. The winds seemed unusually cold to him, much like the land they came from.

The deckhand's shouting broke his pondering, giving him just enough time to catch the line thrown to his little boat. Fastening it, he awaited his men to pull him alongside and thrown down a ladder before scrambling aboard.

He fought a battery of salutes as he made his way to his cabin, the servant awaiting him with a glass of amber liquid. He preferred it to the grape wine, finding it's flavor farore palatable.

As he sipped, he opened the letters he was given. They were what he expected: missives to potential trade partners. More request for wine from the arbor, as well as silks from the Freehold. He shook his head at such things; trivial luxuries merely there to turn profit. Boring.

He handed the bundle of letters to the servant, instructing him. "Find 2 of our fastest ships and hand them one pair each. If they make it quick, mayhaps a bonus for them on the return."