May 31, 2017
Add bookmark
#1
Spoiler: README: Author's Note
Prologue
August 14th, 2016
*BEEP* *BEEP* *BEEP*
Oh god… Mike Killian though as he rolled over and smashed the alarm button. Why the hell did I get wasted last night? He thought as he stood up from bed and stumbled to the bathroom. I have a flight to catch.
Oh right, got drunk because what I first thought was one of the worst weeks of my life has now turned into one of the worst months of my life. First I get the pink slip from the city, due to budget cuts. Job market is total shit, nothing open for a civil engineer in the whole state of Connecticut. Sally the now ex-girlfriend decides to dump me two weeks after I got laid-off via a Dear John voice mail, while I am in DC for interviews and decides to fly back to California. Then yesterday I get phone call that my step-father died not long ago, from the executor of his estate. That's not the bad news though, good riddance to that asshole. I hated leaving my mom back then, but I got away from him as soon as I turned 18. But now there is apparently some kind of discrepancy over their wills, or lack thereof, and other legal mumbo jumbo that may or may not have happen during the two years between when my mother passed and when Old Man Birch kicked it last week. I sure as hell don't want those grubbers getting Pa's farm.
I booked a flight for New Haven for this morning, but then run into an old friend from High School last night. He invites me to a Georgetown UConn game, and we go bar-hopping afterwards. We even connected with a couple of hotties. I thought for a brief moment my luck was changing and because it looked like I had a chance. Then said hottie mentioned she was a Georgetown conflict resolution student and started talking shit about the military. I may not have been in since six years in the big cat box for USACE but nothing's a bigger turn-off than being accused of war crimes by someone you've just met. I brushed her off and drowned a few more too many.
Now I'm hung way the hell over. At least I can try to catch a nap on the plane ride, but damn do I need a break from reality.
Mike, while immersed in his thoughts had at least managed to get dressed, packed, and headed down to the lobby, grabbing a cup of coffee and a packet of over-priced pain pills from the hotel concierge before checking out. He was met with drenching rain outside on the street, while he stepped up to the curb to hail a cab.
"Taxi!" he yelled, simultaneously with a tall blonde woman who had stepped up to the curb at the same time he did.
Oh just great… Caroline Johnson thought as she stepped up to the curb and heard the other man hail a cab at the same time. Her make-up was running in the pouring rain, and she was already running late.
Just one more thing to make for an ever-worsening month, Caroline thought.
Another Hospital HR dept. called back to tell me they couldn't move forward on considering my application until the current 'issue' was resolved. Fucking sue-happy ungrateful asses, that fat-artery clogged bitch should be grateful she is even alive. But no, she hits the whole staff at my residency hospital with a malpractice suit even named me merely because I had been on hand for a surgical assist. The case was already dragging on for a few months, and in the meantime I'm still drowning in debt from the eight plus years of medical School. The last few years were some insane level of stress. Johnny dumps me a week ago, because "I'm too busy for him all the time." Whatever, jackass was probably cheating on me with that girl from his work. Then I total my car. When Cindy called me up and told me she was getting married and wanted me to be the maid of honor, I thought it might be a nice vacation, despite the cost of airfare and hotel. A week In DC only to witness a hysteric drama-fest as the wedding got called off at the last minute. I end up babysitting Cindy over her two day drinking binge only to have her throw up in my rental car last night. Enterprise was not pleased, I hope Cindy will pay for it, but she probably isn't even awake yet. I just need to get home back to Connecticut and spend the rest of my vacation on a break from reality.
A yellow number seven cab pulled up a second later and rolled the window down. "Airport!" Caroline yelled, hoping he would be a gentleman and let ladies go first, only to hear him shout the exact same thing at the exact same time.
"Same place, split the fare?" he asked.
"All right." she said.
The downpour stopped rather abruptly as the taxi driver popped the trunk and got out, to help put their bags in.
"Airport yes?" he said in some odd foreign accent. "I take you, get you where you going in no time." He said smiling.
Mike and Caroline got into the back seat, and sat quietly for a moment as the driver pulled away from the curb.
Quite nice looking, Mike thought as he glanced over at his riding companion. She had pulled out a makeup compact and was making an attempt to fix what had run in the rain. She was turned away slightly so it seemed she might not be too enthused about having any conversation. That might be best; I can't remember if I brushed my teeth when trying to get out the door to check-out.
Still she cut a good figure. Mike could tell she seemed pretty fit; her rain wet light blue blouse was slightly sheer and sticking to her shapely figure. She was busty, and with long legs, in a black skirt and slip on flats. He guessed she might be very late twenties to early thirties. She had dark blonde hair, but the dark tint may have just been due to the dampness. It was disheveled a fair bit from the weather. He stole a glance at her left hand, no ring on the finger. Her nails were also cut short, and unpainted. She saw blue eyes reflected back at him through the compact mirror. She's using it to look back. So he just smiled at her, letting her know he noticed.
Is he checking me out? Caroline wondered as she moved the compact to get a better view of the man beside her after she finished fixing her make-up. He wasn't bad looking, eyes a little blood shot, but so was hers two days ago. He might be six foot something, so probably taller that her which was hard to find sometimes. Brown hair, brown eyes, he looked like he was in decent shape. The black suit jacket made it harder to tell. He wore typical white shirt, tie, and black slacks like most suit professions. Oh, he might not be a suit profession, Caroline though as she noticed that the tie was a clip-on. Its corner had snuck out from underneath the shirt collar. She glanced at his shoes, they were casual not dress shoes. She glanced over at his left hand but it was obscured then tilted the mirror back toward his face. Slightly scruffy, didn't shave this morning. Then their eyes met through the mirror and he saw her smile at her. Busted, Caroline thought as she folded up her compact.
Mike raised his left hand to cough in it. This gave Caroline a chance to see no ring on the finger. Mike inhaled though his nose right afterwards. Oh good, he though, minty, no alcohol breath.
Both seemed about to speak when the cab driver started chatting.
"So hey, what's yous names? I'm Sveneg Fadoc. But you can call me Sven"
"Mike"
"Caroline"
Mike squinted as he looked toward the cab driver; a silly crystal prism hanging from the rear view mirror was flashing sunlight in his face with every bump on the road.
"Ya, Mike and Caroline" he spoke their names out slowly "Good simple names no like mine. Yous goin on hol-i-day together. Honey-moon?
"What? No we're not married." Caroline said.
"No? Yous seem together. Boy-friend, Girlfriend?"
"No we're just sharing a cab ride" Mike replied.
"Ah sorry, my mistake. But yous look good fit together. Where then you going?"
"Connecticut" Mike and Caroline said in unison.
"Ah! You are going on trip together even though you not know it! See more reason to talk. Yous get to find each other maybe things work out. Ya?" The cabbie said as he swerved a bit around some traffic, the hanging prism sliding off and falling on the floor.
Mike and Caroline both tensed as the cabbie leaned over to fish for it amidst traffic on the highway
Neither had time to scream as the taxi got smashed into head on by a semi that jumped the median.
Like
ReplyReport
55
0100010
May 31, 2017
Add bookmark
View content
Threadmarks !Edmure I & !Myranda I
View content
0100010
0100010
May 31, 2017
Add bookmark
#2
!Edmure I
1st day, 1st Moon, after Winter Solstice. The first day of the New Year, Short Winter, Long Summer, 294 AC
Hey wake up!
Mike woke up and rubbed his head. This is the worst fucking headache ever, even worse than this morning. Erm, that didn't sound right. I've had hang-overs before, but nothing like this. What the hell is this strange bed? It's also way too dark and quiet, and whose are those soft voices? Mike could hear approaching footsteps as he sat up, someone came to the bedside, and pulled aside...a bed curtain?
Where the hell am I?
You are in my goddam head.
"M'Lord? Are you awake?"
"Ermmm." I replied unintelligibly.
"Ah, shall I fetch a Maester?" It immediately dawned on me that this guy was definitely not speaking English...and yet I understood him.
Yes
"Yes," I responded, in the same language.
"At once, M'Lord Edmure," the fellow replied, bowing and leaving. M'Lord Edmure? Who is M'Lord Edmure'.
Yeah? Well who the hell is Mike Killian?
Mike's mind was flooded with knowledge. Edmure Tully was the Heir to a place called Riverrun. His father, Lord Hoster Tully, was Lord Paramount of something called the Riverlands in a place called the Seven Kingdoms. This was a continent known as Westeros, and the year was newly 294 AC which stood for 'After Conquest'.
Mike blacked out after that, as knowledge rushed into his head.
Oh you are asleep again
What the… Is someone talking to me?
Now you are talking to me? Why in the seven hells are you here?
I have no god-damned idea why I am here, you tell me.
I do not know anything more than you do
Well fuck.
I guess we should sort some stuff out before we wake up
I guess we should sort some stuff out before we wake up
!Myranda I
1st day, 1st Moon, after Winter Solstice. The first day of the New Year, Short Winter, Long Summer, 294 AC
Wake up sleepy
What?
Caroline moaned as she opened her eyes to a dim room and looked down and a set a set of strange quilts. What the hell?
That is for certain
God I'm going crazy…
That would explain a lot
Where the hell am I?
"Myranda?" A female voice called out from behind the door.
Who the hell is Myranda?
Glad you finally asked, who the seven hells are you?
Myranda Royce, born in 279 AC; she was betrothed at age 4 to the young page Roland Hersy, the only son and heir to Lord Denis Hersy, at the bequest of Lord Jon Arryn to her father Lord Nestor Royce in exchange that he might gain the position of High Steward of the Vale, and that House Hersy would pledge to House Arryn during Robert's Rebellion, instead of aligning with their then overlord House Grafton who had remained loyal to the Targaryens.
In 293 AC, half a year before her 15th name day and pending marriage, young Ser Roland Hersy drowned in the Blackwater Bay while en-route from Gulltown to King's Landing to participate in a Tourney.
Lord Hersy, having two daughters and no other sons, and his most recent wife having died in childbirth less than a year before, decided not to cancel the betrothal, but to take young Myranda as his 3rd wife in the hopes of producing a male heir. This was much to the disgust and dismay of his eldest daughter and her recently betrothed, Ser Trevor Hersy, (who was also her cousin), for they had been poised to inherit after the untimely death of Ser Roland.
The elder, oafish Lord Hersy enjoyed the company of his new wife for only a few moons, and unable to keep up with the youthful lass, his heart did give out on him while they were in the midst of his passion and her wifely duties.
Lady Myna and self-proclaimed 'Lord' Trevor Hersy did not even wait to ascertain that no seed of the late Lord Hersy had taken root, before 'Lady' Myranda was kicked out of their seat at Newkeep, and forced to abandon her late husband's name.
Thusly, Myranda spent the last 15 days in travel during the onset of the small winter through the Vale back to her Father and her home at the Gates of the Moon.
The information that dumped into her brain felt like a semi-truck hitting her head on. The image of the oncoming truck flashed through her mind.
Oh god, am I dead?
I do not think so, and what the 'fuck' is that beeping noise? 'Fuck', that is a strange, interesting word, your vocabulary is quite strange.
"Myranda? Your father needs to speak with you. Are you well?"
What language was that, not English?
No it definitely was not but you should probably answer her
Who?
Mya
Mya
You should also probably wake up again first before you do so.
Myranda opened her eyes again.
"Um, I'm not feeling well" she managed to croak out in the strange language.
"I am coming in." Mya said as she opened the door. "Worry not, I am alone."
"Your father composes a letter to Lord Arryn regarding how you were mistreated by House Hersy, but he needs to know if you think you might be with child or not from your late husband. I am sorry to burden your mind further, after your recent grief, but have you yet bled, since… you know."
Yes
"Yes"
"Yes with child or yes …"
"I'm not with child; I've since…bled, on the return travel." Leave me to my Mourning "Please leave me to my mourning"
"Should I fetch Maester Nolan?"
Yes
"Yes"
"I will set out at once" Mya said as she exited the room and closed the door behind her.
Last edited: Jun 6, 2017
Like
ReplyReport
51
0100010
May 31, 2017
Add bookmark
View content
Threadmarks !Edmure II & !Myranda II
View content
0100010
0100010
May 31, 2017
Add bookmark
#3
!Edmure II
2nd day, 1st Moon, Short Winter, Long Summer, 294 AC
Mike Killian sat in Edmure's bed as Maester Vyman poked and prodded. His head still hurt; not from the rush of memories but from the worried stress of his predicament or possibly whatever swill Edmure had gotten excessively drunk on two nights ago. It seems even in this world, New Year's Eve is celebrated with the same level of drunken debauchery.
Maybe this time you should actually tell him what has transpired. If Vyman can do something about it then perhaps you can go home and I can be myself again
No, it just feels like a bad idea right now.
So you are going to mope in bed for another full day?
And if he can't, I'll, no we'll, just appear like were god-damn crazy. Your recollection of what befalls mad persons in this time and place isn't a fate we should look forward to.
For small folk; you are the knighted son of a High Lord. Did we not we go over this enough yesterday? Besides, if falling asleep multiple times trying to wake up from this weird dream did not work the prior day; why would it work this time?
"M'Lord?" Maester Vyman said rather loudly.
"Sorry, what were you saying?" !Edmure replied.
"You seem very distracted. But again as yesterday, I find nothing wrong. Unless you should tell me more of what is plaguing you. I have brought more willow bark tea to ease the headaches, but surely that should have receded by now, if 'twas naught but over-indulgence on wine. Perhaps it was a bad batch?"
"Yes I think it was a bad batch of wine and mead"
What? I thought it was fine
No what you drank was swill, even through your memories I can tell. I can make something far better.
Hmm, you can make something better…that Brandy you brewed up and shared with Sally before…
Hey man that's private…
What, like mine are not?
Maester Vyman had been speaking again, !Edmure didn't hear him. "M'Lord Edmure!" he said loudly again.
"Sorry what?"
"Are you sure there are no other troubles to mention? Had you gone wenching again? Any pain while urinating?"
"What?"
Ha! You should have known he would have asked that
Oh you did…
She was worth it, not like you have not done the same. Heh, Darcey, Melissa, Jennifer, oh two Jennifer's, Linda, Heather, Sally, who is Celine Ivy? A small count overall though
Who? …Hey they weren't prostitutes, but free and willing. Furthermore, that's not something you're supposed to be proud of. Don't you know about STDs?
Erm…. I do now…AIDS and all that stuff sound scary
Damn right…we're fine though right?
Yeah Yeah
"M'Lord?"
"No issues there, no. I'm alright."
"Well I advise you should refrain from strong wine and mead for a while. Give it a chance to get all out of your system. Perhaps lay off the other vices as well"
Seven Hells, No
Yes!
"Sound advice, Maester." At least get up "I guess I'll get up and take my noon meal in the great hall."
And to get better acquainted with the household. !Edmure thought.
!Myranda II
2nd day, 1st Moon, Short Winter, Long Summer, 294 AC
Caroline, in the body of Myranda Royce, spent the rest of the prior day in Myranda's bed asleep, genuinely tired from the horseback journey of the last fortnight. Both Caroline and Myranda were in a depressive funk for their own reasons, Caroline for the seeming loss of her whole past life, and Myranda for the shock of her late husband's death and casting out by house Hersy, combined with worry as to what would happen next. Otherwise, Caroline and Myranda spent their dreams in confused silent conversion within their own head. The household left her alone to sleep and mourn.
Caroline awoke this next day to early morning sunlight, opened her eyes and hoped to see it was all a dream.
Nope you are still here, and so am I
"God damn my back still aches…" !Myranda said out loud to herself as she rose from bed.
Gods not God
Same difference
You have peculiar phrases, and they are not the same, we have seven. If you are going to swear, as unbecoming as it is for a lady, then do it right, lest someone ask you which god you are cursing. Plus you said that in English
I don't believe in 'them' anyway.
Yes, somehow I know that, but I do. They had to have been involved for whatever 'this' is to have happened. What a strange world view you have anyway. You do know that is going to be a problem here right?
Whatever, I don't care…no wonder my back hurts I can't even see my feet! !Myranda though as she looked toward the foot of the bed, then sat up for the first time.
What is that supposed to mean?
These things, good grief!
What you did not know or notice yesterday?
I was too busy trying to wake up from a nightmare to take in all the details. !Myranda thought as she stood up from bed. You're/I'm a lot shorter, pudgy too.
Hey! I am perfectly fine with my 'body image' to use your own American term, and you have certainly had your fair share of thoughts on how unhealthy that outlook is.
Where's a mirror? !Myranda thought, then recalled where the polished silver viewer was located in the wardrobe. No silver backed glass mirrors?
Expensive Myrish imports, no, and even those are a far cry from the kind of mirror you are actually thinking of.
We'll this has to change. !Myranda decided after she was done looking herself over.
Why? A plumper figure is a sign of wealth and status
Hell no, you've lived your whole life with an aching back. Well that's due to the weight your carrying around especially up here. You don't think that ache is not worth trying to eliminate? Beside if I am going to be stuck in your body then I plan to make it a more comfortable one.
You can call a servant to help you get dressed you know.
Or I can do it myself. When is the Maester to arrive? Oh right…
Yes, it likely took Mya most of yesterday just to reach the Bloody Gate, because Maester Coleman is at King's Landing with Lady Arryn. But even if he was here, I doubt she would have let him go so easily anyway, given his care over young Robin
Oh yeah, she's the… the nutter with the sickly child nutter with the sickly child.
You know I might be able to actually help the kid. Where's your bra?
There's no 'bras', it's the leather strap
Damn it to hell, this is going to be a repeating theme…
Seven Hells
Same difference…. let's go see to the household.
Last edited: Jun 1, 2017
Like
ReplyReport
47
0100010
May 31, 2017
Add bookmark
View content
Threadmarks !Edmure III
View content
0100010
0100010
Jun 1, 2017
Add bookmark
#10
!Edmure III
3rd day, 1st Moon, Short Winter, Long Summer, 294 AC
!Edmure sat at a desk in his room, a few books were sprawled out before him, parchments, quill and inkwell also lay on the desk. He had obtained numerous curious looks from Maester Vyman when he had asked for the materials and tomes. He had moved the desk over to the window which bathed it in sunlight, and he had pen to parchment as he jotted down notes and thoughts regarding the prior day and morning.
"Fuck!" !Edmure exclaimed as a large blot of ink smeared across the parchment. He hurried to blot it dry before it got everywhere.
You are doing it wrong
I hate these damn quill pens; I'd give one of those gold dragons for a good ball-point and a stack of paper.
Tis not even recognizable as my script, and English too, if someone spies it they will wonder for what in the hells that gibberish is
Notes for my use, English so no one will know what it says, besides, that's what the lockable chest is for.
So you conceive to shut yourself in to read and write the whole day long?
Actually that's my plan for the whole week, or more. These books are pretty damn thick.
Gods man! I am going 'stir-crazy' enough trapped in my own head without even a whit of control over my own person. Ye could at least have someone fetch some decent wine and lay off this boiled, distilled water and fruit juice. The servants likely think you have gone crazy already. Not even they drink plain water
I think Vyman's medical advice for it convinced them good enough. Besides wait till that slow sand filter I made with that old wine barrel this morning starts producing in 10-20 days.
That excuse will nay last forever
Would you just be quiet for a while and let me read and write?
I have already read that tome, years ago. You know this, so why read it again?
Because I also know 'years ago' was 'when you were barely past being a child', that you didn't read the whole thing and that you barely paid attention to the contents in the first place. Same goes for the rest of the books. I think reading up on the history and heraldry and all that will probably help me out.
I was never one for studies, so doing all that now will just attract more attention that you so seem to want to avoid
Come on, just give me some peace for the day, and I'll have a glass of your favorite wine with dinner tonight.
A bottle and a visit to Jenna's?
No! Damn it all, the ink's done run everywhere again, this is what happens when I can't concentrate.
A bottle or I shall start singing that 'purple dinosaur' song
You're bluffing not even you would be able to stand that song; two glasses.
Three, and one of Dinah's pastries
Fine. !Edmure concluded as knock sounded on the door. He quickly covered the English written notes before answering. "Enter", he said while turning his chair toward the door. Maester Vyman shuffled in with another thick tome under his arm, and a bundle of candles under the other.
"The last tome, you requested M'Lord. I've brought you extra candles as well if you plan to read into the night. Otherwise these could take a few moons for you to read through them by daylight alone. This last one, though, is in Valyrian. As I recall, the last time I tried to teach the old tongue to you as a youth, you didn't much care for it. Did my lessons stick better than I had thought?"
Ah... bugger I forgot that one was in Valyrian, now how will you get out of this one?
Damn. "Eh, no. My Valyrian is still as horrible as ever. I forgot what it was written in is all. I guess I should improve it, or have you read it to me, or transcribe it."
"Transcribe it M'Lord?" Maester Vyman arched his eyebrows while glancing at the large tome. Clearly he was not enamored to the idea of translating the beast.
"We'll I suppose the ones you have already brought will keep me busy for a while. We can talk more about this one later."
"And how fares your health M'Lord, are you feeling better?"
"Hmm. Some yes, but I think I shall still take rest a few days. These tomes will keep me busy."
The expression on Vyman's face did not seem terribly convinced. "M'Lord, your father Lord Hoster did inquire after you this morning, especially after your long talk last night. While it pleases both he and I that you now have a greater interest in the happenings in the Riverlands and the running of the house, we must admit it is quite out of character from your usual self."
See, I told you
!Edmure took a deep sigh. The both of them had thought of what things were the most believable, but Mike expected the ruse to last a bit longer. "My father did fall ill just less than two moons ago, he has yet to get better, and this concerns me."
"It concerns me as well." Maester Vyman replied as his face became more somber.
"I pray to g- The Seven the seven that he will become well, but even if he does, I know not how many years he will have left. I thought perhaps I should better prepare myself for my eventual role as High Lord."
"Well, it is good to see you seek this maturity. I will aid you in whatever ways I can, though you need not keep this concern from your father. He will understand."
"My worry will only make him worry, and that cannot help in his recovery. Besides, he may be fine and surprise me with another decade of his stern lecturing."
Vyman nodded, seemingly convinced and placed the tome and candles on the desk. "I will leave you to these then" he said as he shuffled back out of the door and closed it behind him.
Close call
!Edmure pulled his notes back out and resumed where he had left off.
…The Tully household, and by this I mean those that live at or very near Riverrun itself most of the time.
Lord Hoster Tully, Edmure's father; a stern man, but he is a reasonable and astute fellow. He fell ill not too long ago. I'm no doctor so I can't really speculate on what it is, but obviously it is something beyond a simple cold or other type of infection. If it were, he would probably have recovered from it or it would have killed him by now. It's probably something internal or genetic, maybe cancer, or just old age. His brain seems to be working fine though.
Is there any way at all for this medical know-how of your world to help him?
I'm sorry. I'm not a doctor, even if one were available there's no equipment for it. Things like cleaner water could help so don't outright dismiss my ideas.
In my chat with him yesterday I collected his opinions on all the current nobles of the Riverlands as well as the various knightly houses, which ones might be supportive and which ones might be troublesome. I'll have more on all those later. He took the opportunity to not so subtly hint several times that I should be considering finding a wife. I deflected it with just asking more questions about the general state of things and running the house. He obliged and seemed happy, if a bit confused, at my interest in the subjects.
Ser Edmure Tully, the one whose body I have found myself stuck in; born on summer solstice, 273 AC.[1]
I know from my memories that Edmure is a bit of a party boy; big time into the drinking and hooking up with prostitutes. Now, I'm not exactly a prude in the lady's department, but I kind of prefer women who are free, consenting, not getting paid, and not tied to me by some kind of feudal obligation. I'm going to have to figure out whether I live up to-or down to-that reputation, or try to change it. [2]
What, no mention of my dashing good looks or other accomplishments?
I thought you said you would be quiet. You're full of yourself.
At least you got significant improvement in some areas; I am significantly younger than you were.
You could use shrinking the beer belly you've just gotten started on though.
Well staying inside all day will not help with that at all, now will it?
That's enough.
Catelyn and Lysa are Edmure's sisters, not at Riverrun currently, off living with their husbands in the North and the Vale. I guess I'll get to them later. Note to self, tour the realm at some point and give them a visit.
Maester Vyman: member of the order of scholars assigned to most nobles throughout the realm. They are part healer, part advisor, and manage the network of ravens that carry messages to and from various castles. He's been with the family since Edmure and his sisters were young children. If it seems increasingly probably that I'll be stuck here for a while. I think I'll be asking him a lot more questions. Some kinds of improvements ought to be set up, I am just not sure what I'll be able to pursue yet. That can wait until I've gotten settled though I guess.
Ser Desmon Grell: Master-at-Arms of the Riverlands for nearly forty years; He's the uncle to Lord Grell.
Ser Robin Rygar: Captain of the guard at Riverrun; big bald old fighter; cousin to Lord Rygar and father to Tristan.[3]
Tristan Rygar: Technically he is Edmure's Squire, though Edmure was not much for actually many martial activities. He is a long-time friend of Edmure's though several years younger than Edmure. He is due up, at least by age, for a knighthood whenever an opportunity is presented. He is one of eleven close friends Edmure has and has grown up with. They fancy themselves like the 'dirty dozen' of the movie, but that's a far cry from reality.
Hey, I do engage in marital activities. My experience at riding a horse and wielding sword and bow is certainly far more than yours.
But you're not that stellar at swordplay either, you've admitted that to yourself, I'd much rather have a gun in my hands anyway. Furthermore a horse is all you ever had for traveling. Most significant is you've never actually been a solider in combat, I have.
A glorified mason, a trench digger, the only actual combat you…
Don't you even go there!
Sorry, I didn't realize, it appears strong emotionally overwhelming memories were not automatically made available by whomever of the Gods did this to me.
Long Lew, Elmwood and Delp: Three guardsmen Edmure has shared wine, ale, and stories with a number of times.
Wendyl Rivers: A guardsman and one of Edmure's friends. He's the bastard son of Edmure's uncle on his mother's side. Hoster reluctantly took him in as a man at arms in Riverrun after his father fell during Robert's rebellion. [4]
The Vance Brothers: Ser Ronald Vance, Ser Hugo, Ser Ellory, and Kirth. Ronald is the eldest and Heir of House Vance of Atranta. He is a couple years older than Edmure. Each of his younger brothers in turn is one to two years apart. They also have the youngest brother Jon who is studying to be a Maester at the Citadel. Kirth is still a squire.
Ser Marq Piper, heir of House Piper, and his brother Lewys, a squire, are often at Riverrun, both close friends of Edmure's.
Patrek Mallister, heir of House Mallister is also often at Riverrun, and yet another of Edmure's close friends. He's currently a squire, but near knighthood age.
Ser Robert Paege, heir to a Knightly house sworn to Riverrun. He also resides there as one of the many Knights that serve Lord Hoster and Edmure. He is another close friend of Edmure's.
In all, the dozen of them are Ser Edmure Tully, Ser Robert Paege, Lord Lymon Goodbrook (who was, but is no longer at Riverrun after the recent death of his father, and subsequent inheritance of House Goodbrook), Ser Ronald Vance, Ser Hugo Vance, Ser Ellery Vance, Kirth Vance, Tristan Ryger, Ser Marq Piper, Lewys Piper, Patrek Mallister, and Wendyl Rivers.
It sure as hell won't be easy fooling them all. At least some, Patrek, the Piper brothers, and Lymon are home at present, and the Vance's come and go.
There are 60 other guards at Riverrun whom Edmure doesn't remember the names of, resulting in a peace time force of about 75. Given the defenses of this place at a medieval tech level, that is plenty.
Utherydes Wayn is a grave, gaunt and sour old man that has been the steward of Riverrun since before Edmure and his sisters were born.
Of the household staff, at least those that Edmure actually took notice of for one reason or another:
They are Dinah the cook, Fat Bruno the Brewer…
Seriously must you call your small folk by such wonderful descriptors?
They are small folk what does it matter? Besides I am not the only one who does so and it distinguishes him from Small Bruno, but I do not recall what job it is that Small Bruno does
…Small Bruno, a servant who does 'something', Sam the Gardener and keeper of the Godswood, Oliver the smith, Sally the head maid…
Oh good god, you slept with her?
Only the one time, I was only fifteen, and drunk, and…
Your first time too, that explains the feelings of guilt and embarrassment that come across each time we pass her.
…Melody another maid…
You're not sleeping with this one, even though you want to. Damn man, that's the only reason you even remember her name? She's 14 for Christ's sake. It's staying in the pants.
Hey, I am not that bad; she may be flowered but is not of age yet. That was not ever going to happen anyway, especially not with staff, or wards, not again.
Alright, moving on…
..Several other servants that I don't have an exact count of right now…
Septon Aaron resides in the Sept at Riverrun, he is the Lead Septon of the Riverlands, and has a young assistant, but Edmure can't recall his name. Septa Bethany also resides there, as do two silent sisters. They frequently are off in the nearby villages though tending to the small folk.
That's pretty much it for the household, for now. I'll fill it in more as I get to know people.
What? You're going to 'mingle' with the staff and workers? Why?
..Moving on…
The houses of the Riverlands, here are Hoster's opinions of them as well as what Edmure can recall. Note to self: gets some better maps, properly surveyed if necessary.
House Tully, the current Great House is 'Our' house.
Noble Houses:
Blackwood of Raventree Hall: They feud frequently with the Brackens, they worship the old Gods and have a dead weird wood… Weirwood…. in their Godswood. Hoster and Edmure's opinion of them is neutral to negative, but negative only in the sense of the feuds that might pop up. Apparently they have a whole Hatfield and McCoy thing going on.
Brackens of Stone Hedge, see above.
Butterwell is located in the vicinity of Lord Harroway's Town and Maidenpool. It's famous for its butter and dairy cows. Opinion is neutral.
Charlton: Is actually sworn to House Frey, which gives it a negative opinion according to Hoster and Edmure, but it seems that the only reason for that viewpoint.
Deddings, a wealthy house, comes from merchants. Opinion is neutral.
Frey: They control the Twins, the only cross on the green fork for miles. Opinion is negative. Lord Walder Frey is an old cranky bastard with too many kids and grandkids and bastards. He extracts hefty tolls for anyone crossing his bridge. He is someone to watch out for.
Goodbrook: Edmure's opinion is positive, Lord Lymon is a good friend of Edmure and he considers him quite loyal. They are located near House Smallwood. Hoster's opinion is neutral to negative. They supported the Targaryens during Robert's rebellion and he burned one of their villages as a consequence. They lost much wealth during that war. I think friendship with Lymon since he is Lord now, could allow a chance to repair those relations.
Grell: Opinion is positive, they both consider them Loyal, and Desmon is our Master-at-arms.
Hawick of Saltpans: Opinion is neutral
Darry is near the Ruby Ford. Opinion is neutral to negative. They supported the Targaryens during the rebellion.
Lolliston: Opinion is neutral. They make barrels of all sizes.
Lychester, opinion is neutral or unsure. Lord Lychester has no sons, and his keep is in disrepair, and the house is poor. It isn't a threat in any case.
Mallister of Seaguard: Edmure and Hoster consider them quite loyal, their opinion is positive. They effectively guard the western coasts of the Riverlands with the only Galley fleet.
Mooton of Maidenpool: Hoster's opinion is slightly negative because they supported the Targaryens.
Piper: Opinion is positive, they are considered quite loyal.
Roote of Lord Harroway's Town, opinion is neutral.
Ryger of Willowood: Opinion is positive, they are considered quite loyal, and despite the fact they were former Targaryen loyalists. Perhaps Robin has something to do with that.
Vance of Atrana: Considered quite loyal. This is where the Vance brothers are from.
Wayn, near Riverrun: Also considered loyal, where Utherydes' family is from.
Whent of Harrenhal: Opinion is neutral, but not considered a threat. Lady Whent has no heirs. Harrenhal is supposedly 'cursed', having been burnt by dragon fire. Note to self: Visit Harrenhal and see what a castle supposedly burned by dragon fire looks like for myself. Edmure's memories of this are too vague. When Lady Whent finally dies, it is probable that House Tully will inherit it due to Edmure's mother's relation.
Houses Vypren, Terrick, Shawnee, and Keath: The opinion is neutral.
Knightly Houses:
Cox near Saltpans and Wode near the Crownlands are sworn to House Whent
Erenford & Haigh, near the Twins, and Nayland of Hag's Mire are sworn to House Frey
Paege is sworn directly to House Tully, and are considered quite loyal…
Fuck, damn this pen!
Spoiler: Author's Notes
Last edited: Jun 1, 2017
Like
ReplyReport
37
0100010
Jun 1, 2017
Add bookmark
View content
Threadmarks !Myranda III
View content
0100010
0100010
Jun 2, 2017
Add bookmark
#14
!Myranda III
3rd day, 1st Moon, Short Winter, Long Summer, 294 AC
Surprised we do not all fit your 'stereotype' of 'medieval' persons? See we have wash basins, tubs, chamber pots and the stools to go with. Even the servants have such made available to them even if shared among the staff, they may be less fancy for sure, but they function just as well
And yet, the maids empty chamber pots out a window to tumble into the moat or down a cliff-side, or as you recall yourself when you visited, sometimes they toss it out the moon door at the Eyrie landing who the hell knows where? It's not sanitary! I don't care how far up it is, rain is going to wash it into a river somewhere, a river someone will end up having to get water from and THAT is one of the biggest reasons water makes people so ill when they drink it. Caroline though as she finished maneuvering her dressing screen into place in order to form a makeshift wall for the "bathroom" area of her room.
And where else is all the waste going to go, hmm? Those cities or castles that do have sewers send it all to the sea or to the nearest river already. Furthermore this waste is not the only reason the waters of the country side are not up to your standards.
I know it's not the only reason, and I'm not a civil engineer so I don't know how to build a sewer system. At least I know that the water requires being cleaned. You know it is greatly in my world.
But you know not fully how to cleanse such
I know enough to try, sand, charcoal and cotton filtering, then boil it and distill it. Sunlight kills a lot of pathogens too, if there are clear glass bottles to use.[1]
You could always just drink the wine like everyone else, you know yourself alcohol kills these 'pathogens', I am amazed though, I never thought there would be tiny animals living all around us… HEY! You are throwing away my good sponge stick!
Damn right I am, I want to use something disposable each time.
Corn husks? Like what the small folk use, I never!
Get used to it, there's no TP. I guess I could use parchment.
You would dare to use expensive parchment for that?
Corn husks don't sound so bad now do they? Maybe linen scraps too. I just wish I knew how to make paper. Look, we need to work together on a lot of things alright? When I think about health and hygiene I mean far more than clean water, more soap and better disposal. It includes proper medical care too. Simple changes there could have saved your siblings in infancy and your mother too.
Fine, what do we need to do? Myranda thought, though Caroline shared the pang of sadness that come over her, when she mentioned her late mother. Even though she was several years gone, Myranda had cared for her deeply.
Keep helping me convince everyone I am you. It is still the truth in its own way. I, no WE can make a real difference here using everything I know about my world. Shall we go over the household again?
Lord Nestor Royce, Myranda's father is a massive, bald, barrel-chested man with a greying beard. He is the Keeper of the Gates of the Moon and the High Steward of the Vale for Lord Jon Arryn. He has held those titles since 283 AC, after his predecessor Denys Arryn fell at the Battle of the Bells during Robert's rebellion. His older brother Kyle and his father were slain by the mad king, Aerys II. [2] He is a stoic yet caring man, still pained by the loss of his wife in childbirth several years ago.
Ser Albar Royce, Myranda's only sibling and older brother by three years. He is a large, well-built man like his father with brown hair. He is a skilled knight with a sharp wit that likes to 'jape' a lot, including taunting his opponents to throw them off-guard. Myranda remembers many a joke they played on each other as they grew up.
Myranda Royce, who I am somehow stuck in, born on the 4th day of the 2nd Moon, so just shy of her 15th 'name' day…
You know, you look a lot older than just shy of 15 to me. How long is your year?
By what do you mean? You already know, 12 moons of 28 days, plus one day for each short season, and an extra day at the new year, every seven's years. Oh, that must be one of those leap days is it not? I guess that makes sense, I never knew that before. [3]
That only accounts for 340 and 1/7th of a day. It's shorter than my worlds 365 and 1/4th. I would have thought the opposite to be true. How many hours in a day?
I thought they were the same as yours? I have no need to really track, most do not. The Sept's bell-ringers and the Maesters keep track of all that for holidays and services to the seven
Still that can't be right
I am no astronomer; ask the Maester when he arrives.
Well, I guess it's not important right now.
Mya Stone, Myranda's longtime friend since childhood. She is almost one year younger than Myranda, set to turn 14, on the 3rd day of the 3rd moon this year. Again, she seems a tad bit older than her age implies. She is already in a teenage love affair with the squire Mychal Redfort, though Myranda fears it won't end well, given Mya's baseborn birth. Mya is a bastard. Mya may be more difficult to fool than her natural family, as she is closer to her, essentially a sister. Mya is well built, with short coal-black hair and blue eyes. She is rather tom-boyish, mirthful and lusty; much like Myranda is except for the tom-boyishness.
You call me lusty?
You've... Oh my God! You've slept with four different men and you're not yet fifteen?! What's wrong with you?
One was my late husband, one my late betrothed…
Yeesh! The son, then the father, and one of the four was a cousin?
Why are you feeling an emotion of such disgust? I could not help being married off to his father, or being betrothed to his son! It was out of my hands. Plus that was a distant cousin! It is not as if you do not have your own collection, a number more than twice mine, and you had two from your 'teen' years!
I am more than twice your age!
Yes an interesting combination of youthful body and experience, maybe we…
Good God! See you're lusty, and far too young, this is wrong on so many levels! Plus you're supposed to be in mourning right now! You don't want your father having an excuse to marry us off again, do you?
No, I suppose not…
I need to wrap my head around this later, let's just continue for now.
Ashley and Joyce are maid servants to the House, they are sisters. Joyce, the elder one, is the mother to Ossy and Carrot, a couple of pre-teen boys that work as mule handlers with Mya along the treacherous mountain paths.
Septa Ana, assign to both the Gates of the Moon and the Eyrie, to teach the womenfolk in the ways of the faith. She is still a bit of a novice having only been here a year since replacing Septa Ursula when she passed away.
Kent the house blacksmith, whom you know the name of because…
…He is the uncle and guardian to Ser Donnel Waynwood's squire Troy, who was my first. I am sure, he knows not…
I guess I have to wrap my head around this now…You were thirteen? I can't even. Are you so sure? Your father sent Ser Donnel to the Bloody Gate, who took his squire with him, soon after. So you…good God… found another…
Ser Waymar Royce, well he wasn't a Knight yet at the time…I did not expect him to still be here when I returned from Newkeep. I thought he would have left after I had rebuffed him for Ser Roland. After all, I was to be married to him anyway. Instead he goes off to the tourney with him and Ser Trevor.
And when they got back, since your betrothed had drowned, you and he thought you might just pick up where you left off? Waymar was being fostered here by your father, you somewhat grew up with him, you realize that's messed up right?
Well, he also could have left after it became apparent my betrothal was not to be called off, and made to Lord Hersy instead. I was married near half a year, you know I sent no letters, had no contact, why do we go through my 'exes' like this? Do you wish me to re-hash all of yours?
Because you're not even fifteen yet, and this needs to stop now. Plus you haven't figured it out yet that you can't keep ignoring him. He's unhealthily infatuated with you, and some of that is your fault for leading him on, yet you don't actually care for him? You can't keep ignoring him either.
Well, I'm a widow now, we could…
Oh you stupid teenager…
Hey!
It's not going to happen; now we need to get this over with.
With that, !Myranda went out of the room, and went out to find Ser Waymar. The maid had informed her he had called on her each day since she had returned, but she had put him off till now.
"My condolences for your loss M'Lady, but I am glad to speak with you, I longed to see you again."
"I am not a Lady; my father is but a Lord by courtesy."
"You are the widow of a Lord, by all rights that makes you a Lady, and you are a Lady to me all the same. While I am sorry for your loss, I have no doubt that a long line of suitors will seek your hand. Please forgive my boldness that I might again seek to be the first." Ser Waymar then presented a mountain rose in a vase of water. "It is a pale comparison to you. It would be fresher, but you bade me wait a few days, so I did."
Don't you dare start blushing right now.
But...
No, I will not be chained to some misogynist backward not-so-honorable, full on patriarchal knight who views women like property. We'll be a spinster in a house full of cats before I let that happen.
"M'Lady?"
!Myranda did not take the vase so Ser Waymar put it on the table. "Why are you still here, Ser Waymar?
"Beg your pardon M'Lady?"
"Let me be clear, I am in mourning, and even after sufficient such time has passed, nothing will come of us."
"I do not understand."
"What we had before, it is over, and will not resume, the infatuations of a child, now outgrown. You should move on with your life."
That was a bit harsh
Ser Waymar's face seemed to redden and !Myranda could see a vein starting to throb on his temple. She instinctively took a step backwards. "The things I have done for you, you should be overjoyed! When word came that said Lord Hersy had died, I waited for your return."
"What things, what word?"
"A raven…"
How can that be? I wanted to send a raven to my father the morning after my husband died, but none were left to send, the last sent out the prior morning. The Maester was still awaiting new ones to arrive from Gulltown.
Something's wrong… !Myranda thought, while Ser Waymar continued speaking. He seemed to be getting angrier.
"…stuck in a marriage to such an old man. Did he believe that story of you breaking your maidenhood on mule back? Did Ser Roland? Does your father? You think anyone but an old man will want to marry you if they knew of all the..."
See!
What an intolerable ass…I'll show him!
"Others take you! You'll keep your mouth shut, or I'll make sure everyone from the Vale to Castle Black knows you wield naught but a bent cutlery knife rather than a long sword like a proper man!" !Myranda felt Myranda's words force their way out of their mouth in a half-whisper that took Ser Waymar briefly by surprise, but then he raised his open palm.
!Myranda rocked backward, he missed.
"Ser!" Myranda turned at the loud booming voice of her father as he suddenly appeared in the room.
"We were…" Ser Waymar started.
"Sit down and shut up." Nestor yelled, and then he resumed a calm tone. "Myranda fetch your brother, have a servant bring me quill and parchment, and then retire to your room. I'll speak with you later."
!Myranda fetched Albar, and did as she was told. Myranda tried to bite her nails and !Myranda kept moving her hand back away. Together they paced the floor of her room.
Ser Waymar and Ser Trevor were on the same boat as Ser Roland?
That was over half a year ago, you think? ...
They both had something to gain, Ser Waymar your hand, Ser Trevor, inheritance via marriage to Roland's sister.
Lord Hersy disrupted things by marrying me anyway?
You need not blame yourself anymore. His death was never your fault to begin with, but there may have been more going on.
Nestor finally knocked upon the door and announced himself, and !Myranda let him in.
"Ser Waymar's stay here is done. Your brother and I will be escorting him back to Runestone, and will speak with his father. Do you feel well enough to manage the house while we are gone?"
"Yes" Myranda said. "Father…. Ser Waymar, Ser Trevor, Ser Roland, they were all on the boat together…"
Nestor nodded, "I concluded such, do not concern yourself with his fate. Despite all, he is family; I will handle it with Yohn. Lord Arryn will be informed as well. I expect his response to all this will have arrived before we get back. It will add weight to our grievance and recompense against Lady Hersy and Ser Trevor, he's no Lord until he bends the knee in Lord Arryn's presence."
!Myranda felt tears welling up, while Caroline helped keep her composure, Myranda was shaken up inside. She was only a teenager after all.
"I hope some positive lesson can be gained from this." Nestor said as he hugged his daughter and consoled her.
!Myranda let the tears fall as she nodded.
That I won't be so manipulated again
That we can work together on.
Spoiler: Author's Notes
Like
ReplyReport
31
0100010
Jun 2, 2017
Add bookmark
View content
Threadmarks Melisandre I
View content
0100010
0100010
Jun 3, 2017
Add bookmark
#21
Melisandre I
3rd Day, 1st Moon, Short Winter, Long Summer, 294 AC
Something has changed. Melisandre thought as she stared into the flames of a bright candle that she held in her hands. She balanced herself to keep it steady amidst the swaying and creaking of the trading galley as the oarsmen cut through the green waters of the Jade Sea. Hot liquid wax dribbled onto her hand but she ignored the pain. Her concentration on the Vision in the small flame was far more important. Oh to have had a larger fire. She lamented, but she could not convince the captain to allow her a brazier, despite her assurances that no harm would come to the ship.
The Vision was so clear three days hence on the beach in Asshai. A great bonfire showed her the path to Azor Ahai, to the west, a man born again of smoke and salt to wake dragons out of stone. She could still smell the embers, and the burnt flesh of the slave she sacrificed to her lord. A slave with slanted eyes and yellowed skin from beyond the Saffron Straits; he cried out to his gods in his foreign tongue but they did not answer, for they did not exist. There is only R'hllor and now, her lord was simply showing her something new, his will changes as he sees fit. The Vision still bids her west.
She was but three days out of Asshai, the ship would stop at many places on the way, Turrani, Port Moraq, Vahar, New Ghis and finally Volantis. She pledged to make a new sacrifice to her lord at each port, to better guide her on the way to her new destination. Essos, two silver haired beggar children, a great fat man with a forked beard as yellow as the flames, and eggs of stone.
Like
ReplyReport
24
0100010
Jun 3, 2017
Add bookmark
View content
Threadmarks !Edmure IV
View content
0100010
0100010
Jun 4, 2017
Add bookmark
#22
!Edmure IV
13th day, 1st Moon, Short Winter, Long Summer, 294 AC
Edmure has been silent for a while today, so I've decided to start a journal. This will go along with all my notes, ideas, and designs for this strange place. I've gotten the hang of this quill pen. I still want to make something better at some point. It's on my TODO list, along with paper, because this parchment stuff is apparently expensive. Vyman expressed some concern and brought me a slate-board and chalk after I "ruined" several sheets with my incomplete doodling's, and poor mastery of the quill pen.
Anyway for the last 10 days I've been reading and doing some design sketches (the aforementioned doodling) I have a nice stack of books here, 'The Lives of the Four Kings', 'The Blacks and the Greens', 'The Seven Pointed Star', 'A History of Heraldry in Westeros', 'The Book of Laws', 'House Tully Family History', and that "Myths and Legends of Valyria' book that is written in Old Valyrian.
I asked Maester Vyman about other books he might suggest, he said he could get me one called 'Questions', and a few others. We talked briefly about some of the myths and magic, and he admitted to a couple of other books, some 'Book of Lost Books', which he kind of frowned on and steered me away from, but that only made me more interested, and some 'Dragonkin' book, which I'd like to find anyway, because, freaking dragons. Well I asked him to find those three for me anyway, but it seems they aren't in Riverrun. There are other various scrolls and tomes in the Riverrun library, but they're mostly old obscure records or Riverland's specific history. In general the Riverrun library is small. I think I'll be changing that in time to come.
So the first two were basic history books, there's not much to comment on regarding their current relevance. The Seven Pointed Star is the world's religious book, basically like the bible. I'm just damn glad it is a lot shorter, still haven't finished it though. I stopped reading it because it's not really my thing and wanted to look through the others. I'll come back to it eventually. I think it will be useful. The church is pretty pervasive, so I should do my homework where that is concerned.
The Heraldry history I just skimmed though, it is at least mostly up to date as of about 10 years ago. New houses being formed are rather rare though, and the sigils typically stay pretty constant. Mostly this will helps as a reference for identifying banners in tourneys, (or battles, but this world is in a decent peace, so not too worried about that.)
Tully family history, I only skimmed through this, Edmure has a decent memory of most of it anyway. It's a personal family book obviously; every noble house usually has one.
'The Book of Laws', it is exactly what it says, and as dry and boring as I thought. Was this what laws in medieval earth were like? It goes into very fine minutia of detail about trials, peerage, vassal obligations, taxation, land dispute resolution, settlements by judges, or trial by combat and appropriate punishments for various types of crimes. I can't believe how much was written when so far the main points I've gotten is that the King or Lord or Knight can still do mostly whatever they want to someone below their station. I guess it helps serve as guidelines for matters of dispute between equal classes, but if one party is a lower class than the other, then it seems they are pretty much SOL. Still there might be some useful tricks. It's Maester Vyman's book, it seems law was one of his fields' study that he got one of those link chain things in. [1]
This book of Myths, well I still haven't touched it yet, Edmure can't read the damn thing, and it can wait.
Otherwise, I've tried to keep myself busy. Hoster's asked and commented on my behavior again. I guess I need to figure out something to do about that or maybe take a trip somewhere. I put him off for now by reminding him of when Edmure used to enjoy tinkering as a kid, and said I wanted to try building something. I plan to turn a small outbuilding within the grounds of the castle into a workshop, though for now, I've been working on a slow sand filter to try and get some cleaner water for this place, and today was finally the day when I completed it and started it up.
Building it took much longer than I thought, and I ran into a few issues on the way. The first one was just finding the right kind of sand, and then cleaning the sand. Even though it has been a while, I did build one in college and a bigger one in Iraq. I got the idea from an old wine barrel I saved from being turned into firewood. I got it patched up with resin and tar to be waterproof again (which would have messed up the wine flavor apparently) and found good gravel and sand to use. I did replace the tap, with a new bronze one the blacksmith had. The tap valve was not what I was expecting, it was using leather seals and such but it seems to work.
One good thing about Riverrun is that it has a waterwheel in place already which gives me access to mechanical motion. The servants use it for a grain mill mostly, and it will still function in that capacity. However I had some troughs made to divert some water to act as my input, to go into the barrel filter. Other troughs will catch excess overflow water and send it back to the river.
Even so, I still had to have some piping made. Lead pipe is common, but I don't want drinking water going through a lead pipe so I had the smith make some iron pipes. It didn't take too long since I didn't need long lengths, just enough to lead the filtered water into yet another barrel for the clean water.
The input water comes from the Tumblestone, which is good because the wheel is upstream of where the Tumblestone joins the Red Fork. The Tumblestone is also a faster river, so it puts more power into the water wheel. Riverrun's sewers outlet into the Red Fork, this is something that I will want to change at some point.
It's going to take 21 days at a minimum for the bio-layer to become active enough to do its job properly. After that though, all I can really do is just appearance and smell testing, but at least the Tumblestone water doesn't smell bad to begin with. Normally I'd have the input and output water tested for comparison, but I can't exactly do that here. How would I test it? I guess maybe just pour the input and output water into some clay plates with a bit of boiled beef broth let them sit for a couple of days, and see how much bacteria grows? Would that be simple enough? I may still boil the output water anyway or at least mix it with a little alcohol. I don't know yet. I'll think about it over the next 21 days.
Ideas, Questions, Answers & Notes:
What's the current state of the art of Agriculture in Westeros? (Riverrun domains specifically)
What can I improve regarding the above?
How do I test water?
Note: I guess I don't have to worry about pesticides and industrial pollutants. Naturally occurring metals still might be a problem though.
Finish reading books, (Star book & Laws as tolerable)
Water Piping? (no lead for input water, ok for sewer/out lines)
Iron is doable, but costly, Copper? Clay? How is the pottery industry?
Where is copper and iron mined/imported from?
How do I make paper?
Recycled cellulose fibers: use old cloth? Sawdust?
Wire screen, smash the water out dry it… needs practice, wire screen needs wire. Do they have wire?
Ball Point Pen, or at least something better
Ink reservoir? How to make? Made from what? Wood? (needs to be waterproofed) Lacquered? Horn?
What metal for pen nubs/point/ball, even possible?
Make Brandy & Whiskey….
WTF? Oh you're back… how did you do that?
Ha!
Seriously that's kinda weird, that's your handwriting but it's still in English.
Perhaps now you know how I feel. But truly, why do you insist on dabbling with water when you could produce and consume something far more pleasantly drinkable?
Clean water is pretty damn important
Still, it will make my Father and others ask far less questions while you still get to 'engineer' things. It was a hobby of yours, yes, and this 'micro-brewing'? And you had an uncle that showed you how to make 'moonshine'?
I guess, I'll still need decent equipment for a proper still.
You will remain in keeping with my character, and I shall be able to have a decent drink finally. Then if only you would…
Hey, one thing at a time. Maybe I can make some decent money off it too.
Spoiler: Author'a Note
Like
ReplyReport
32
0100010
Jun 4, 2017
Add bookmark
View content
Threadmarks !Myranda IV
View content
0100010
0100010
Jun 5, 2017
Add bookmark
#26
First section written by Milarqui, edited & added to by 0100010.
!Myranda IV
13th Day, 1st Moon, Short Winter, Long Summer, 294 AC
It has been not even two weeks since I arrived to this strange place called Westeros, and already things are changing a lot. Such as this, as I finally managed to get my hands onto some parchment to write a journal and some ideas to work with. Though, what I wouldn't give to have a modern pen and paper!
The first two days were very confusing, what with the suddenness of the change I experienced, and I had to get used to the voice in my head. I'm really sorry for Myranda, I did not expect to occupy her body and leave her only as a passenger, so to speak.
The day after my encounter with Ser Waymar, he was unceremoniously kicked out of the Gates of the Moon by Myranda's father after our conversation. Several days ago Mya returned with Maester Nolan, whom she brought from the Bloody Gate. He will be subbing for Maester Coleman while he is at King's Landing with Lady Lysa Arryn (who, according to Myranda's memories, is bat-shit crazy) and Robert Arryn, who, apparently, suffers from some strange illness that makes him suffer attacks. Does he suffer from epilepsy? Perhaps I could do something to help him when they return. Anyway, the Maester had pronounced me in perfect state of health, and expressed his great annoyance at having to be bothered to "tend to the vagaries of a woman's swoons" then traveled his fat ass up to the Eyrie on mule-back, to set himself up in Maester Coleman's quarters, since "The Gates of the Moon had nothing suitable for his station". I felt sorry for the mule that carried him.
I had spent the first week trying to get acquainted with the world, talking with the Gates of the Moon household and trying to memorize their names and faces, because I cannot rely on Myranda to tell me everything at any moment. I have also learned a bit about the strange plants that I have seen out of the Gates through the window, or in the kitchen. The corn husks we were served on my fourth night here were certainly different than the ones back at home, more colorful, slightly smaller and bluish, like Indian corn. Also the pumpkins are different, again smaller, redder and sweeter to the taste. Perhaps the plants followed a different evolutionary path as they got crossed for cultivation? At least, the books I have found tell me enough to understand them, even if they are not as scientific as those back on Earth.
Another thing I tried to do was to make a bra. The leather straps Myranda uses are uncomfortable as hell, so I have tried to find a way in which I can make myself a brassiere. Remembering about the ones that were made at the beginning of the 20th century, I decided to try making myself one with a couple of handkerchiefs and some ribbons. It was quite difficult, but, after several attempts, I finally managed to make it. It was not exactly as good as one with underwire support, which this body badly needs, but it definitely was better than the straps. And it has also given me an idea: when Mya saw it and I told her what it was, she asked me if I could make her one. Women would probably love to have these, and they would pay a pretty penny for them. Earning myself some money would go a long way in preventing Myranda's father from marrying her off to anyone I dislike - i.e.: anyone with the same misogynistic beliefs as Ser Waymar, those who would think it inconceivable...
Why did you laugh?
Long story; something similar to a mummer's show from my world.
Oh, I see it. That little guy certainly messed up there, didn't he?
Indeed. Maybe I could write these stories down later, and create our own show for the people.
Not a bad idea.
.. for a woman to be able to do anything beyond having children and managing the household. Myranda's father is one of the few that thinks somewhat otherwise and has been willing to give her nearly free rein around here, but as soon as the mourning period officially ends, he is probably going to start planning to marry her to some other noble heir.
And that's something else: what materials do they use for clothes here? Most of Myranda's clothes are in wool, linen, and cotton, or at least something that feels like them, and there are a few skins for cold times. There is also the very rare silk, but Myranda doesn't own anything made from it.
The Eyrie is full of "mountain flax", that is what the linen is made from. It is mostly farmed and prepared by small folk. I think something analogous to the thing you call cotton is grown along the coasts. Silk is entirely imported, and as far as I know, no one knows how it is made. Wait, what? Worms, really? Do you think it is made here the same way as on your world?
Moth caterpillars actually, and perhaps so, it's as good a guess as any.
Well, since Myranda says there might be such available, I'll have to find out.
I also spoke with the Septa, to learn more about the Seven in the slyest of ways that I could. Before approaching the woman, I built up the idea of having a dream where I saw my mother and grandmother, or, rather, the Mother and the Crone in the guise of my mother and grandmother, and even an unknown man that I hinted might be the Smith. I admit that it was a bit roguish of me to lie to the Septa so blatantly, but she believed me and said that maybe I was meant for great things in life. Well, if I have my way, I will make sure to bring these people into the twentieth century, at least regarding hygienic and medical practices.
After that first week, I decided that it was time to begin interacting with the rest of the world. I had helped the mule-tender boys bring supplies up to the Eyrie since Mya was still away at the time. And, well, tall does not even begin to describe the mountain where the Eyrie is. Damn, there is certainly a difference between the memories and the reality. At least, I can be sure that all this exercise up and down the Stairmaster from Hell (as I have taken to think of it, and something that amuses Myranda) will help me get rid of the extra pounds accumulated by Myranda.
Hey!
You cannot deny the truth, missy! You have indulged a bit too much in eating cakes. If it were not for our going up and down to and from the Eyrie with Mya, you would be a lot fatter.
We do not have the same 'beauty standards' as where you come from you know. Plumpness is a sign of wealth, high standing, and capacity for leisure. Skinny folk, without fine clothes are quite probably small folk or the poorer lower classes, those who need work all day and have not the abundance wealth and station provide.
…I, I don't think I should even respond to that…
Hey! "Response" or not I still know what you are thinking, and that was uncalled for!
Anyway, the Eyrie, we went up to it, and it was a very long travel while leading the mules up the stairs and ramps that make the path to the mansion. It takes most of the day to ascend, though I know Mya has been up and back down in a single day if she started early in the morning. When we arrived upstairs, we were met only by the household, which was wondering when Lady Arryn and her son would come back. I do hope they do so soon, because I want to see the poor kid.
So, a list of things I should begin to plan for. If I am going to live here forever, I might as well do something good, damn it!
Medicine
Check about currently existing medicine. Do they use willow bark for headaches? Are they still using leeches?
Use early vaccination methods to fortify people against illnesses. Is there smallpox or something similar?
Spread the idea of using boiling water to cleanse instruments.
See if penicillin, or something similar, exists. (Microscope will be important)
Sanitation
Soap. Washing soda, fat and water can make a simple soap. The latter two will be easy, but the former will probably require me to find something like natron deposits.
Food preservation. They salt things here, so that's a good thing, but I'm sure that canning will be a lot better.
Water cleansing. I remember it can be done with glass bottles. I know there is a way to filter it with sand, but I do not know how, exactly.
Try to find a way to change how they get rid of waste. Throwing it out of the window should be punished!
Textiles
Introduce the spinning wheel. And the sewing machine. Perhaps something like what Grandma had?
Introducing new additions to Westerosi wardrobes will help a lot.
Undergarments. Particularly bras (note: find how to make wire on a large scale). Seduction ahoy, ladies!
Find how to make perfumes and cosmetics. Those will make me a lot of money, enough to fund other projects.
Other things
Try to find out how to make paper. Parchment isn't cheap.
Pens or pencils. Writing with quills is very messy.
Do more exercise; Myranda is not overtly fat, but she could use losing several pounds.
Once I get the first few things running, start to seek markets around here.
Find people who can make glass. For mirrors, telescopes, microscopes, perhaps making hothouses?
What? That's it?
Well, it is difficult to know what else I might need if I don't see the rest of the world. Who knows? Maybe I will get better ideas by walking the world.
Maybe; still, I do hope you do not forget to eat something soon. I am sure that the cook will be wondering why you have not eaten one of her cakes.
You only say that because you want me to eat one of the cakes.
That, too.
(Second section, written by 0100010)
I heard a knock on the door as I finished up my notes on the parchment. "Enter" I said as I put the papers away. A maid shuffled inside.
"A guardsman come down from the Eyrie last night, says Maester Nolan received a Raven from your father."
"Why didn't you tell me then?"
"You had already taken to your chambers."
"Oh well, hand it here."
"My apologies, but I do not have it, he did nay send the note down with the guardsman. Only that the message had arrived and asked that more wine to be sent up, because stores are running low."
"Oh I bet I know why too." Go fetch me one bottle of the worst stuff we have in stock, and let Mya know we need to make another ascent."
"Of course."
The ascent does not get easier the second time. I thought. Fortunately it is early in the morning and perhaps we can get back down before nightfall. The guardsman, Lenny was his name, also returned with us. He didn't talk much. After arriving and trading off the bottle to free my note from being held hostage I unfurled it.
"Pffbbb…. This is swill." Maester Nolan said amidst the cackling ravens in Maester Coleman's study room.
"Aye and you'd best enjoy it as you won't be getting any more anytime soon. Furthermore if Lord Arryn's stock gets any lower, you can be sure I'll tell him who was dipping into it.
I read the raven note, it had arrived from Runestone.
Lord Arryn has summoned Ser Trevor to KL. We go to Newkeep later today to fetch him. Albar will escort him and present our case to Lord Arryn. Situation resolved with Lord Yohn, Waymar to take the black. Expect my return home in 10-11 days.
I put a couple books I had borrowed and read since my last visit back onto Maester Coleman's shelves, and selected two more that looked interesting and useful to peruse.
"What exactly would a woman have need of those for?" Maester Nolan asked while taking a chug of the cheap wine, apparently it wasn't bad enough to make him not drink it. "What would Maester Coleman say on that?"
"Nothing, Maester Coleman isn't here, and if you want another bottle of cheap wine when I bring these back, and for me to say nothing of your indulgences, you won't say anything either."
So Maester Nolan said nothing, and turned back to his bottle of swill. While Mya and I took the long descent back down.
Last edited: Jun 6, 2017
Like
ReplyReport
37
0100010
Jun 5, 2017
Add bookmark
View content
Threadmarks !Edmure V
View content
0100010
0100010
Jun 6, 2017
Add bookmark
#36
!Edmure V
15th day, 1st Moon, Short Winter, Long Summer, 294 AC
I've decided to take a short trip to visit the Tully lands around Riverrun and a few of our sworn houses. I'll be leaving tomorrow I'm bringing along some parchment to take notes.
I'm taking the trip because over the last couple days I've gotten things planned and delegated to various staff and servants, that it will be a fair bit of a wait before I can move forward with my next projects. I should return to Riverrun after 18 to 21 days
The outbuilding which will become my workshop needed some repairs and expansion before it could be fully useful, and this was going to take some time. Hopefully it will be done by my return.
Likewise, after a fair bit of arguing with Maester Coleman and 'my father', Hoster, I convinced them to call for and hire a scribe (who can read and write Valyrian.) I had brought up the un-translated book again, and wanted it translated. Maester Coleman expectedly didn't want do the work and was quite busy with other things. I also pointed out that many of the other household books were looking worse for wear and in need of having a fresh copy. Hoster didn't like the expense of parchment, ink or scribe's wages, but relented when I said I'd considered it a good Name Day present come summer. Finding a scribe that knew how to read and write Valyrian would be hard, unless it was a student from Oldtown. I didn't want to wait that long. So we ended up deciding that we would just choose a more local one that would serve as a sort of assistant to Maester Coleman, and to transcribe the other non-foreign tomes, while Coleman himself would translate the Valyrian book. Even finding the right person might take a while. I don't know if the scribe, or some of the books I asked for, will have arrived before I get back.
When Hoster finally said he would consider allowing the scribe and related expenses, he immediately went into wondering what had gotten in my head lately, and inquired about my unusual behavior. I reluctantly countered with wanting to become a better Lord when the time came. He got a bit quiet after that, but still looked at me like I was a complete stranger for a moment
Until I stepped in.
Yes, right until you helped
With a bit of help from Edmure, I recovered, and talked on my desire for a Name Day celebration of some kind. I used his want of me to starting looking for a marriage prospects against him. I said that given travel times it would be good to plan things in advance and get the word and invitations out, even though it might already be too late to expect my sisters to be able to attend.
And then the master stroke
Erm right, you don't get all the credit for that
Then I find myself saying "and lots of Brewers" to Coleman and Hoster's confusion as they were not party to the little conversation in my head. After an awkward silence I explained
For my Name Day I wanted to find the Riverland's best beers and spirits, hence 'lots of Brewers', really, I wanted to host a contest. I'd go out on my trip and announce word of a Brewing contest to be held at my Name Day celebration in Riverrun. Anyone that wanted could submit a sample batch, and it would be judged. The winner would gain employment or at least a decent sized order from the family. Hoster rolled his eyes, saying that sounded like it was just an excuse to get lots of free spirits and get drunk. I didn't deny this, but reminded them that, Fat Bruno, our current brewer, was over sixty, of ill health lately, and had no apprentices.
Although it took more convincing, Hoster finally relented to everything I asked for, if I agreed to at least start looking at possible marriage prospects during the celebration. They at least considered the whole beer contest a norm for Edmure's usual self, and assumed the requests for various still equipment and such for the 'to be constructed' workshop, all part of the same bit.
I could tell Hoster had reached the limit of debate with me about 'foolish notions' when he started complaining more about the heat and calling servants for cool rags. I realized it was rather hot during these 'long summer' years and would become more so during the 'short summer' season.
An idea hit me then about ceiling fans powered by a series of pulleys, in turned powered by the waterwheel. I saw as much in a restaurant (but with electric motors) once back in New York. It should be an easy thing to recreate and I drew up some sketches and will have some of the workers here try to make some while I am away.
Also while I am away, I delegated out trying to make wire and the wooden frames for wire mesh screens for eventual paper making. Along with this, I let word spread among the servants, that I would pay a penny per pound, for clean, dry scrap linen and sawdust. That way I'd have some supplies to experiment with when I returned. (The pennies were so inconsequential that I could handle that out of my own pocket.)
Finally by the time I get back, the slow sand filter should be ready to try out.
Now then for the trip itself, it will serve two purposes. The first is to get word out about my brewing contest and Name Day celebration. The second is so that I could get a good assessment of the state of agriculture here in the Tully held lands and some of the nearby sworn houses. I need to know what kind of improvements I could plan out, what kind of yields there were, and just wanted to see for myself more of this world I was stuck in. Edmure knows very little of agriculture so could not answer the questions I had about its technology level.
Well, why would I know much of it? Small folk are the farms and land-tillers, and such, Maester Coleman and our Steward handle most of the details of taxing and allocating it.
You mean Utherydes?
Yes, right, Utherydes Wayn
…sigh…
Yes well, although I asked them some minor details, not so much to prompt more suspicion, since some of the questions I would have liked to ask would have been over their head or made them wonder where I could have learned such. So seeing for myself firsthand is the best, and a needed alternative. One interesting thing I did learn though was that during the long summers, the southern Reach and Dorne could grow certain kinds of crops all year round. This whole 'long season', 'short season' thing confuses the hell out of me, but the farmers having lived with it for generations should have a better understanding. I did wonder how the heck plant and animal life, including human life could survive multi-decade winters and not starve. The answer was often times it doesn't, yet still comes back. There has to be some evolutionary adaptations going on for this, I suppose. Anyway, seeing the size of underground granary/food storage areas for Riverrun yesterday help me realize better how serious the scale could be. That placed looked larger than my old high school gymnasium. It wasn't the only storage site either, just the biggest. I could imagine that it, along with others, filled to capacity, along with some kind of winter crops, which some of the books and Maester Coleman mentioned, could feed all the residents of Riverrun and its immediately attached villages for several years of heavy winter, maybe even a decade. Two decades though? I don't know about that…
I should stop before I start doing logistics calculations in my head.
Yes please, do you have any idea how boring that is? It is worse than some of Maester Coleman's lectures when I was young, or that Mrs. Crabtree who taught your English classes, in this 'high school' you mentioned. I swear I…
…You sometimes go to sleep when I am thinking about my engineering and math equations to deal with life in this place? ...fuck you can do that, can't you? But yet not hide thoughts from each other…what happens when I sleep? ...God damn it I knew it…
Oh Come on! You promised me three glasses of wine and one of Dinah's pastries nearly two weeks ago and only drank one of the good stuff, and had nothing since then but your boiled water and weak beer.
…So you semi-sleepwalk me to the kitchen and snag a nightcap? I knew that wine stain wasn't on my shirt the when I went to bed.
And you feel…violated? How do you think I feel! A passenger in my own body, mine not yours, I learn how to gain just a little bit of self-control without waking you up and you are the one upset.
Guess that also explains why I woke up sitting upright in bed a few times before….
What are you doing? Damn it…
There now maybe if you try to open the door tonight you'll make an unavoidable noise… Shit how long were we sitting there catatonic while arguing? A small puddle of ink had pooled on the paper.
At least we're alone in the room At least we're alone in the room.
Right well we can 'talk' about this later, we need sleep before traveling early tomorrow.
Like
ReplyReport
37
0100010
Jun 6, 2017
Add bookmark
View content
Threadmarks Lord Nestor Royce I
View content
0100010
0100010
Jun 7, 2017
Add bookmark
#37
Lord Nestor Royce I
15th day, 1st Moon, Short Winter, Long Summer, 294 AC
Nestor stood on the docks of Gulltown with some of Yohn's men, watching the ship his son just got on depart for King's Landing. His son Albar would represent him to Lord Arryn, with his letter in hand, to present their grievances against Ser Trevor Hersy, who was also put aboard, for his daughter's poor treatment. Yohn sent his second son Robar along with Ser Albar and Ser Trevor as support and witness to the foul affair that seemingly began this mess. Yohn and his son Waymar had left that morning on a different boat for White Harbor and then onward to the Wall where Waymar would spend the rest of his life after taking the Black.
As for Ser Trevor, Nestor suspected Lord Arryn would consent to the minimum of his request against him. That the full sum of the dowry Myranda had brought, and that he confiscated back from Newkeep, be allowed to be kept, and that the legal payment of the agreed upon dower since her husband had died, plus a minor wergild for the insult be paid to him. Had house Hersy kept her as Lady Hersy, as they should have, given her widowed status from the late Lord, at least until they knew whether or not she had been with child, than it would not have been as much of an issue, legally. However, Nestor also feared what might have befallen her later if she had not been cast out and sent home. At least that was no longer a worry. Lord Arryn, in order to force compliance with the request, would probably make it requisite on allowing his marriage to the would-be Lady Hersy, the late Lord Hersy's eldest daughter. Only then would Ser Trevor be allowed to bend the knee to High Lord Arryn to become the new Lord Hersy of Newkeep
It was the best outcome he was bound to get. Truly he had wanted to slay Waymar for daring to strike his daughter; he might have if Waymar had not missed striking her, which would have made an even greater mess with Lord Yohn. His kinsman, Lord Yohn Royce had sent Waymar to be fostered to his house many years ago and this was the end result? Both Nestor and his son Albar had the right to duel Ser Waymar as a matter of honor, but he and Lord Yohn Royce settled the matter between themselves with a bag of silver, an honor price, he would give to Myranda when he got home, and Waymar agreeing to take the Black.
He knew his daughter had desires not befitting a proper behaved woman, and did not like to think about it. Yet he had to admit she was like her mother in that respect. Truly he had thought the opposite might have been happening; that he might have found some other activity going on when he sought Myranda out when he learned from servant gossip she had gone off to speak with Waymar. Instead he was surprised at the words he overheard, his daughter casting Waymar aside and acting with tempered rationality, at least at first, before she gave him a cursing he deserved.
Myranda seemed like a different person since returning home. She had been through so much though; it seems to have forced maturity on her. She had always been quite intelligent and capable, and he had relied on her to help run the household when his wife had passed on.
Myranda's failings were her infatuations, and letting her emotions get the best of her, but most women were like that. His wife had been much the same, and more opinionated than most. Even his own mother had been a more vocal and active woman that most, so he must have gotten used to it. There was many a time though when he had overheard comments that he 'keep better control over his wife', and a more than a few echoing the sentiment but directed at his daughter over the years. His wife had certainly tested the boundaries of proper civility for a woman's behavior, but knew where to draw a line and was respectful enough. Though honestly he now felt he would let her speak and act however she wished for the rest of his days if it meant he could see her again. Each time he saw the same feistiness in Myranda, it would remind him of Myrie, and he could not make himself see that as a bad thing, no matter how many reminders to Myranda to keep in her proper place it generated.
"Ser Royce," one of Yohn's men at arms said behind him. "We should make hast to reach Runestone before sunset.
"Aye" Nestor responded, "Though we have a spare mount each so should make good time, but let us depart."
Enough reminiscing, Nestor thought. He wanted to get home as soon as he could, to see how Myranda was doing. While he considered much of her changes to be wrought from her ordeal and just growing up, she still seemed different in a manner he could not place. Even just Myranda dodging Waymar's aborted backhand was surprising now that he thought about it. It was atypical for his sometimes clumsy daughter.
888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888
Jun 8, 2017
Add bookmark
#38
!Myranda V
24th day, 1st Moon, Short Winter, Long summer 294 AC
Myranda's father, Nestor, came home today from Gulltown and dealing with House Hersy at Newkeep, my…our… the former residence of Myranda's late husband. Myranda/I, we spoke at length with our father earlier today.
He of course knew exactly how much dowry he had given Myranda prior to her leaving to get married, and had secured this sum from Ser Trevor and 'Lady Hersy's house before his departure. Well Myranda had bought some things with it in Gulltown, furniture and such, that Nestor did not bring back, but took their value of instead. In total though, this did not account for the Dower …the dower amount, or Wergild …wergild amount which was Lord Arryn decision to force an award of or not
What is the difference of those again?
A Dowry is the amount of parental (our Father's) wealth and property that is given unto us…the bride… to be brought into the marriage, which according to our laws becomes the property of the husband/husband's house upon marriage.
Yes… right, you people have never heard of 'pre-marital assets' before, and women can rarely own their own property, unless she stays unmarried and doesn't have any brothers to inherit her parent's wealth, or other conniving male relatives that try to take it away.
Well, I did nay know of such other opportunities until you jumped into my head. As I was saying, a Dower is the amount that is agreed to and contractually obligated to be paid to a widow, by the family or house of the husband upon his death, to pay for her livelihood. I suppose it is very good our father demanded a hefty assurance of such before consent to letting the betrothal stand to Lord Hersy after his son… my/our fiancé perished.
And I can see why, Lord Hersy was more than 40 years older than…us. Even without this event I bet he would have croaked within a decade. And the… Wergild wergild?
A type of honor payment, the price of a man, or woman or woman, or property, paid by a guilty party to compensate the victims, whether the man was killed, or crippled or injured, or property was destroyed or damaged. I do nay know all the details of how that works, but sometimes it can also be used to avoid rightful requests of honor duels, even for lesser offenses, in order to hopefully stop escalating feuds
Right.
So Lord Arryn decided to side with us, our father, and since he is Lord Arryn's steward and directly attached to his household in that capacity, consented to release funds from his estate directly to my father in the amount of the Dower and the wergild.
Well, really we knew as much when we got word yesterday that a raven from King's Landing arrived at the Eyrie addressed to our father. After ransoming it from Nolan again for some cheap wine…We peeked at it before leaving it on his desk.
"Authorize release of 550GD from estate to Lord Nestor Royce for Lady Myranda Hersy nee Royce, Dowager Lady of Newkeep, or to dispense as he sees fit. Matter is settled. Mark accounts that 550GD is due from Hersy estate. A formal document to be returned with Ser Albar. (signed) High Lord Jon Arryn"
First, it's the Stewards job to often handle their Lord's accounting. So our father was authorized to pay himself. Second, I guess 'Dowager Lady Hersy' is our new official title (unless we get married to another Lord at some point). It makes me wonder if we officially outrank our father in these silly titles.
They are not 'silly', they're quite important. And yes technically I think we do, but I do not think it will ever matter.
Ah de jure, but not de facto, eh?
Thirdly, and most interesting, but not at all surprising, was that Lord Arryn, as far as I could tell, still put the distribution into the hands of our father; the whole "or to dispense as he sees fit" clause. If Nestor were a misogynistic ass, we could have still gotten nothing, if he 'saw fit' not to give us anything. Fortunately he is a good man and there is now a bag of 550 'Gold Dragons' and 100 silver stags, currently sitting on my desk. (the silver apparently coming from Lord Yohn Royce as 'payment' for his son Waymar's 'insult' to us and our father.)
You may be projecting too much worry into this, tis not an official document
Ok I indeed may be projecting too much worry into this. That was only the terse text that could fit on a tiny scroll wrapped around a bird's leg after all. We don't know when our brother will return. Nestor guesses that he'll stay at least for Prince Joffrey's upcoming Name Day celebrations, a tourney was being held in King's Landing.
Speaking of Name Day's ours (Myranda's) is coming up in 8 days on the 4th day of the 2nd Moon. It will be her 15th. I still think this body is at somewhat older than 15 if measured in earth years. I still can't think of anything better than imprecisely counting 'One-Mississippi', 60 times, to guesstimate the length of a minute. There is no such thing as clocks here. Sundials are the best they got. I don't even know if they have hourglasses, and if they did, their 'hour' wouldn't be the same length. Taking my pulse might be a better means of measuring rough time, but again, I wonder if the natural average resting beats per minute is different here. How would I ever know?
So to our name, we have 550 gold dragons and 100 silver stags. That is, according to Myranda's memories, a lot of money. Well a lot for a woman to just 'own' outright. (Though I suppose Nestor could take it back if he wanted, we did ask him directly if it was ours out right, and he said yes it was.)
Currency here is backed by hard metals, standard copper, silver, gold, and annoyingly non-decimal. In order there are, Half-Pennies, 2 half pennies to a Penny, and 8 Pennies to a Star. Those are all copper coins. There are 7 stars (56 pennies) to a Silver Stag, and 210 Stags to a one Gold Dragon.
Also to point out that while it seems like a lot, I also have to keep in mind that the 500 dragon Dower was intended to 'last us for the rest of our life or until we remarried.' Perhaps it was more than normal given the circumstances and the age difference? The extra 50 was, we guess, an arbitrary 10% fee that represented the wergild? We don't know how Nestor or Lord Arryn came to that number. The Dowry component was kept by Nestor/our father since it really did come from him to begin with. It was originally less than the Dower amount.
Well, now we have some nice bit of seed money, and what to do with it?
We can go to Gulltown, buy some new dresses and perfume, and…
No, that's the teenage you talking. You don't do that when your handling money to pay for the servants wages and house expenses when we're left in charge, so don't do it with your own money either.
But we will need to be more presentable to attract new, wealthier, prospective suitors…
I thought we went over this already? I have a much more lucrative idea.
Investments, this will get us started on some projects, to hire some workers for designing a spinning wheel, and working on better bra designs, and many other things.
My Textiles Project Goal List:
Collect loose fiber material (Cotton, Flax, Wool) (completed)
Spinning wheel
Sewing Machine
Meter Bar
Sewing Tape Measure
Wire (for underwire & clasps)
Better Straight pins (from wire probably)
Better Sewing Needles (again from wire?)
Paper (or cloth) Sewing patterns
Fulcrum pivot scissors
Dress Mannequin
Prototype Bra v II.
Prototype Bra v. I (completed)
This was just shaped handkerchiefs sewn (rather than tied) together. No clasps, adjustable straps, underwire, padding liners, shaped cups or anything like that.
My Health & Hygiene Project Goals List:
Introduce Better Hygiene practices to GotM (partially completed)
Had Better Latrines dug for staff use while Nestor was away, implemented strict hand washing policy for servants. The guards/men-at-arms are still not entirely on board as they 'don't see themselves as under my authority'. I hope our father can fix that.
Expand above practices to nearby villages
Expand above practices to rest of Vale and beyond?
Learn about local medicinal flora (partially completed)
One of Maester Coleman's books contains some chapters on this, but it's not enough.
Interview local healers/herbalists 'woods witches?' (Who actually know what they are doing) for broader knowledge. No idea yet how to go about this.
Learn about local healing and medical practices. (partially completed)
Again Maester Coleman's books contains a lot of this, I have not read the both of them yet, but the tome I did read, I discounted over half of it as out-right rubbish. I suspect there may be other books he brought to KL.
Make or have someone make some medical tools for my use.
Antibiotics (long-term)
Vaccinations/Inoculations (long term)
Publish books about all the above.
Better Food Preservation techniques.
Jellying
Jugging
Canning (Need good glass, wire, and a seal for this)
I think I can stop this list for now, I've got more notes in rougher form elsewhere, that are not part of these journal entries. (Note to self: see documents A through E.) I don't want to tackle too many things at once.
As for how I came about the list though. I had gathered up a variety of the local textiles materials that were available. Westeros and specifically the Vale had linens made from mountain flax. There was cotton grown inland from the coast across the Bay of Crabs, silk could be imported, and sheep for wool were everywhere, especially in the north. It took me a week to get a prototype bra made, and it exposed a severe lacking of needed amenities, such as spinning wheels and sewing machines. There were also no padding liners, no way to way to easily make the back clasps, and no way to make wire. Proper wire, not this limp hollow stuff, was apparently rather hard to do, so no underwire, yet. This body really needed an underwire support though.
Are you fat shaming me again?
*sigh*… No, in fact thanks to me we lost a decent bit of weight.
Still, I really am not satisfied with 'prototype version I' but it was loads better than the leather strap, but I learned a lot about what was deficient. That's what prototypes are for right? Anyway it was this experience that got me thinking about a whole series of textile improvements, and I discovered all the little things that go along with them.
So one of the first problems in making a bra I found was no rulers to use for measurement, and a general lack of what I call a decent set of standardized weights and measures. When I went to the local village market for cloth, it was bought in 'arms', the distance from shoulder to fingertip, and the merchant had the audacity to use his young short-armed apprentice to measure it out. When I got back, and pulled out the 'scissors', I was dismayed. They were one solid piece of bent over and twisted metal, more like tongs than scissors. The two sharpened edges were squeezed past each other to cut. I added proper handled fulcrum pivot scissors to my 'need to invent' list for textiles, along with all the other things listed above.
Just let me say something here too, bras are not easy to make especially when trying to get close to a somewhat modern design that fits properly. They have complex shaped pieces, use wire and plastic and adjustable straps with mini buckles, connectors to bind bands and straps, and need strong stitching to fit the pieces together properly. Then again, as Carolyn I always made sure I had really good ones because I needed them, less so than this body but still. Maybe that is why all my various old boyfriends fumbled so much when taking them off.
Hehe
Stop it; I am trying to write…
Can we, later?
Umm…
You can't hide your thoughts I know you are curious, and it's been over a month, for me, more for you, just us…
Moving on...
I was working on version one of my bustier when Mya came in one day and asked what I was working on, I showed her. She was immediately interested in having one herself. This was when I realized I could potentially make some money off them. Ideas for other lines of products began to form in the back of my mind as well, but for the task at hand it was clear I needed to bring in extra hands. Mya helped in a way, mainly as a second model and guinea pig, as did the rest of the ladies and servants in the house, mainly in spinning and sewing and going out to get cloth or yarn. Then sitting there trying to work a spindle and distaff to make yarn and thread almost drove me crazy, hence the high desire for Spinning Wheels.
I showed the fulcrum scissors and meter bar designs to our smith, but only recently. Those will take a while longer for prototypes to be made.
Okay, okay, damn you I am putting the pen and paper away now.
Like
ReplyReport
35
0100010
Jun 8, 2017
New
Add bookmark
View content
Threadmarks !Myranda VI New
View content
0100010
0100010
Jun 9, 2017
Add bookmark
#39
!Myranda VI
4th day, 2nd Moon, Short Winter, Long Summer, 294 AC
Today was our 15th Birthday, or Name Day in the local parlance. We had a minor celebration, Ashley and Joyce made me a delightful cake. I, no we, ate as much of it as Myranda wanted, so long as she didn't complain at my doing a double intensity workout this week. I've wanted to step up my daily exercise routine a notch anyway. The main obstacles having been Myranda's complaints, and how incredible difficult and sometimes painful it is to run in this body without any kind of sports bra. I really wish I had a bicycle, something to add to my 'to be invented' list. To adapt to these limitations, I mixed my usual routine to focus more on strength, and going up the Stairmaster from Hell on foot, instead of riding on mule back. Mya thought I was being insane but now she has started joining me too.
Maybe because of the increased amount of heads turning our way?
Healthier than a fancy dress for sure…I think Mychal Redfort is a stronger motivator though.
On that, I've tried to caution her there a few times, trying to use my own poor relationships as an example. He is another ward being fostered here, and was/is friends with Waymar. I don't know if he knows why Waymar left, but hopefully that won't cause any problems.
Our father and Mya still ask us if we are alright frequently, they know something is a bit off. I've tried to pass it off as maturing and coming to terms with my recent ordeal as much as I can. It's worse when Myranda and I get into an internal argument and we become nearly oblivious to the world, though we're getting better at arguing less and doing it in solitude when we do. Though that also has just made others wonder about our occasional bouts of 'being unsociable'.
Gifts! Septa Ana gave us our own copy of the Seven Pointed Star. Typical, she means well, I probably over did it in duping her about my dreams, and letting that ruse continue. She says she thinks I am destined. Books are expensive though, so I wonder how she pulled that off unless our father assisted.
Our father got us a nice dress while he was in Gulltown (which we had to alter) and a pretty, patterned, blue-dyed roll of cloth. Did he hear about me starting to mess with textile stuff? I can't think that might have been the case as he left only a few days after my 'arrival'.
Doubtful, it's a typical present
Ah yes…
He also got us a nice silver pendant necklace with, I think, some mother of pearl in it as the centerpiece. Myranda was a gush, so I let her beam with thanks, while I held back any expression that might have formed because to me it looked like the kind of jewelry my grandmother (and not myself) would wear. This got me thinking about the jewelry trade a bit. It is something I might be able to tap into as a luxury product.
I had an interest in art, it may have been a hobby only, but I can draw quite well and got into making jewelry during my hippie phase. I even took classes for it as my electives when getting my degrees. Myranda is also artistically inclined, though society doesn't put much stock in female artists except in embroidery since sewing is women's work.
Back to the jewelry ideas, we don't (currently) have pierced ears. No one does except "exotic summer islanders", according to Myranda's memories. From some picture she saw in a book years ago, they apparently have really large looped holes that totally stretch out their earlobes. That's a bit too far for what we'd want. Also, it's not that Westerosi women don't have earrings, but that they are typically clip-ons.
We can also probably draw out new gemstone designs for a gem-cutter to figure out and again if I had small diameter stiff wire, make the stud posts for earring and such. Proper hygienic care will let a piercing not get infected, even if there is no topical anesthetic (yet, that I know of) to ease the pain.
Mya's gift really meant a lot; I know she has far fewer resources for gift giving than I do. It was a quite well made, hooded fur-lined, leather jacket that went down to mid-thigh. It wasn't fancy looking, not the kind at all that I'd expect to see on any noble lady of yesteryear; but that was totally ok. What it lacked in eye-candy it made up for in sheer practicality. It was tough, durable and warm. I think she might have trapped and skinned some of the animals that gave up their lives to make this too. If I was back on earth, I might have turned my nose up, not been all PETA level offended, but furs really aren't needed there. Here? I've been on top of the Eyrie outside in the morning on windy winter days, and damn. I finally got her to fess up a bit. She had been working on it for nearly a year, mostly in collecting the furs, enough to trade off a surplus of them in exchange for the tailoring and tanning work at the village. I'll need to think of something good to get her much later this year, because this is going to get some serious use while I exercise outside and when I'll need to travel.
Lastly, our father also mentioned that Albar was to get me something in King's Landing to bring back as a belated gift upon his return.
Here, people start planning Name Day gifts up to a year in advance, because of long travel times. So I also got asked what I'd want for next year. I couldn't tell them what I really wanted, to go home, if that was even possible, but what I still needed most was knowledge. So I asked for books.
The Books I have now? (Or at least that I have access to via here or the Eyrie's library.)
"The Seven Pointed Star" (the only one that presently belongs directly to me)
"A Maester's Guide to Basic Medicine" (Coleman's) (read all of this)
"Balancing the Humors of the Body" (Coleman's)
"The Conquest of the Andals" (Arryn's/Coleman's, an excerpt out of 'True History'?)
"The Blacks and the Greens" (Eyrie library)
"A History of Heraldry in Westeros" (Eyrie library)
"House Arryn" (some kind of family history book of Lord Arryn's, at the Eyrie)
"Stone and Vale" (some book filled with poems)
"Andal Law" (obsolete? Contained an insert, about being superseded by Jaehaerys I)
"House Royce" (Not present but our father said it exists at Lord Yohn Royce house at Runestone.)
"Mountain and Vale" (Eyrie library)
We don't have a family history book for our branch of the family. When I asked why not, our father said it is mainly for landed nobles who have a Maester assigned to them. When I asked why we should let that prevent us, he didn't have a good answer.
I hear someone coming up the stairs
What really? I didn't, I thought, despite now immediately hearing them as I put up the quill pen and hid my papers and journal away,
You were too concentrated on writing
That's an interesting development. Both of us concentrated on the sound of the footsteps as they stopped.
Enter "Enter" we said before any knock was made.
Our father opened the door. "You heard me?" he asked, slightly confused.
Creaky steps "Creaky steps" we replied. He was partly dressed for the night, in house slippers rather than his boots, which would have made his approach more obvious than otherwise.
"Yes father?" we asked. We stood up and turned our chair around to offer to him then sat on the bed.
Nestor took the seat, and looked at us pleasantly. "I have been meaning to ask you since I returned, but you have seemed so preoccupied every night. Do you have plans for what you will do with the money that you were granted?"
Well, now we don't have the broach the subject ourselves.
"Yes, and you need not have waited this long to ask." We dived in. "First, I'd like to hire a carpenter and locksmith to make a strong box to keep it and the jewelry you gifted me in. That way I can keep it separate from yours and Albar's funds."
"The strong box I have keeps it safe enough, my question was more about any longer term goals you have."
"I don't fear for its safety, but just as you prefer to keep yours separate from Lord Arryn's, and keep it close, I'd like to do the same."
"I suppose, though a strongbox could just be bought you would have no need to hire anyone."
"Actually I do, because I want something specific and customized…"
Combination Lock? Maybe, don't know if such is possible.
"…and to keep it in my room, " we continued, "whose lock could use improving, and a lock for the box and a new one for the door can be two jobs done at the same time. That at least would make me feel safer at night…not that I think you cannot keep me safe or anything like that, just after these events with Ser Trevor and Ser Waymar, it would make me feel more at ease,"
That might be laying it on a bit think there…
Nonsense, I have been manipulating my father since I was a toddler.
Nestor nodded. "But longer, term for the future? If you're unsure I have some sugg…"
"I want to start a business."
Nestor looked more than a little shocked. "That is not generally seen as, acceptable for a woman."
"I don't care, there's a first time for everything."
"For most folk, the only business they'd know of owned by a woman would be a brothel."
I was irritated. "We're not most folk, and how are you familiar with the businesses owned by women?"
Nestor's eyes narrowed. "You should hold your tongue, young lady."
I opened my mouth to speak. NO, shut it, that is going too far. My apologies, father "My apologies, father. "
"We just want to make and sell women's clothing. You may have noticed we've gather materials and have been trying new designs. We thought that was why you got the dress and cloth as a gift."
"We? Who are you considering bringing into such a venture?"
Shit Shit. "I misspoke, I would handle the design and sale of such things, but I thought I might hire Ashley, Joyce, or Mya, on as seamstresses, outside of their other duties of course."
"I suppose sewing is an acceptable woman's profession, but if you're really serious about such you should prepare a plan."
"Lend me some more parchment, and I'll show you a plan in a few days."
"More? Half my supply of parchment disappeared while I was gone, if I had known you would be going through it so fast I would have procured more in Gulltown."
"I'm sorry, but now I can pay for what I used."
"Kent showed me what became of one of the sheets. What does a couple of strangely handled blades and a metal stick with a hole in one end, have to do with sewing?"
We sighed. Kent had apparently told on us. Maybe it was because we pointed out that the first meter bar he made and showed us wasn't sufficiently straight for our needs. It was probably straight enough for anything he could think of, but hanging it next to a vertical plumb line showed it bowed by about and eight of an inch.
"Because it's not just sewing, but also the tools to improve how we… I and those, whom I hire, can sew." Nestor regarded us thoughtfully. "When you bought that bolt of cloth, how was it measured out? Hopefully it wasn't by a short-armed dwarf." Nestor actually sniggered slightly at the comment, as it was a common complaint against cloth merchants. "The metal stick, once etched will be used as a consistent measuring device for cloth, the drawing of the blades, are two halves of a new kind of scissors."
"It seems you have already, put much thought into this" Nestor conceded.
"Yes father, w- I have. You said the money was truly mine, to use as I will, is that still true?"
"Yes, it is. You've changed so much since before you married. It's hard to not just still see the little girl I bounced on my knee."
Myranda walked forward, and embraced her father. "I still am," she said.
Last edited: Jun 10, 2017
Like
ReplyReport
38
0100010
Jun 9, 2017
New
Add bookmark
View content
Threadmarks !Edmure VI New
View content
0100010
0100010
Jun 11, 2017
Add bookmark
#44
!Edmure VI
7th day, 2nd Moon, Short Winter, Long Summer, 294 AC
Well, I'm finally back in Riverrun from my trip, it took a day longer than I expected, and my ass is still sore from all the riding. Tristan Rygar, Wyndel Rivers, Ser Robert Paege, and the Vance brothers, Ser Ronald, Ser Hugo, Ser Ellory and Kirth went along with me. They went officially, as my 'guard', but really it was just a bunch of us old friends going off on an adventure.
The trip also covered more ground than I was first intending. The original goal was to head southwest, then cross back over the Red Fork at Mummer's Ford to visit the Vance's cousins at Wayfarer's rest, then move on to House Smallwood, go north to House Bracken, then north again to the River road at the Inn of the Kneeling Man and take it back to Riverrun. All the while stopping by various villages and towns so that I could asses and ask questions of their agricultural methods, or at least see it for myself. Edmure's father, Hoster, pointed out that if I visited House Bracken's without also visiting the House Blackwood they would view it as spurning them and favoring the other, and thus stir up more feuding trouble. I myself wondered if it could really be that bad but I relented. However adding Raventree Hall into my loop would cut down on the amount of time I could spend assessing nearby areas.
I ended up opting to take the longer circuit. I figured the close villages and town nears Riverrun I could check on anytime, but asked Utherydes to gather as much info as he could that I wanted to know. I could fill in the details later on when I got back. This of course created more looks of puzzlement from him, which I am sure he will bring up with my father. I avoided a follow up on that though by simply leaving with my posse in tow.
The eight of us took eight good palfrey horses for the circuitous journey. We left our heavy armor and such at Riverrun, not that we were expecting any combat or anything like that. I wanted to travel light so as to not take too long getting between each place. We first went west down the River road to a village called Piney Springs[1] about a day's ride from Riverrun. A small spring there is the source of 'Piney Stream'[1] that flows southeast into the Red Fork. There wasn't much to do there; we stayed the night at the house of the 'head man' at the village, named Rodger. I slipped up a bit when I asked what his surname was. He didn't have one, so I backpedaled, asked him his profession (Farmer) and what his father's name was. (William.) Asked him if he'd prefer to be called Rodger Farmer or Rodger Williamson, after a bit of surprise, he chose the former. Perhaps he didn't care for his father much. Anyways, I think he felt proud or something, and interpreted my inquiry as him being granted a surname by the son of the High Lord. Some of my mates made a bit of a stink about it later, but I managed to diffuse the whole thing by asking how else could I know one Rodger from another Rodger, when I sent a tax collector down to take a census.
After Piney Springs we rode south to Mummer's Ford, and repeated the process there. I made my tours of the common farming lands, asked my questions and took my notes. My mates would get bored, make japes, chase the local girls, or look for an alehouse. Most of the time there was no actual alehouse beyond the local brewer's actual home. I listed the head man in Mummer's Ford as a 'Tyman Boatman' which played out much the same as in Piney Springs. I think Ronald tried to fool around with one of Tyman's daughter's named Jyllia (Boatman), not in a predatory way; there was some back and forth flirting that I saw. I'm writing it down here in case it results in a bastard. I tried to warn him away from it. That only earned me more strange looks.
We rode north of Mummer's ford along the Red Fork to Sherrer, met 'Darren Richardson', similar events played out. Went southeast to Wayfarer's rest, and enjoyed the hospitality of the Vance's there. I did a bit more drinking to keep to Edmure more natural proclivities, though tried to stretch the drinks out as best I could. Next we rode east to Acorn Hall, the seat of House Smallwood. Lady Ravella Swann was quite cordial, and said her husband Lord Theomar was out hunting, but insisted we stay until he returned.
We regaled all our tales, the reason for the visits, the contests, my upcoming name day celebration, and my assessment of local conditions to Lady Smallwood and her daughter, Carrellen. Though when she concluded that there might be some wife hunting during the celebration, she started pushing her daughter on me, or well on Edmure, at least I didn't have to fight Edmure down much. The girl was indeed lovely but probably barely past thirteen[2], if that, which creeped us both out. Maybe Lady Smallwood didn't get the hint, because this nervous tween, comes to the guest room I'm in, obviously sent their by her mother right as I'm settling down, to feebly ask if there is 'anything I needed'. She was relieved when I sent her on her way. Lord Smallwood arrived the next day, I made my rounds among nearby villages, while the merry band stayed on enjoying Lord Smallwood's hospitality, and headed back north the next morning.
The next day a massive hill comes into view, Edmure knows it as High Heart, a common camping spot because of its protective vantage. His memories also told of how it's avoided by all the small folk, and said to be haunted. Though that makes it is also avoided by bandits and it is directly on the way toward House Bracken. Tristan and Kirth, the youngest of our group didn't want to camp there, the place sounded too creepy to them. Ronald, Hugo, and Ellory were for it, of course they thought themselves invincible, "I not afraid of no ghost," Hugo said. I had to suppress the Ghostbuster song from going off in my head. Down to me and Wyndel, we didn't really care one way or the other. It was doubtful anyone was going to attack what was effectively eight knights (title or not.) I was though, admittedly curious.
There were as the stories mentioned; 31 very old weird Weir! wood stumps in a ring. (I counted them)
Oh you finally talk again? You've barely said a word for days. That old dwarf really freaked you out.
And you! You should take magic more seriously.
It's hard given where I am from, but I am, and that why I need to write this down.
So to sum up, that night I had last watch with Trystan, the horses start getting nervous, not real bad nervous, but they definitely sensed something. We go look around for a bit, and run into the 'Ghost of High Heart"
Yeah I admit to being startled, having an elderly three foot tall woman with pale skin, red eyes, and white hair long enough to drag on the ground shaking her cane at you and calling you "interloper", or something to that effect can do that. She scrambled backward though, and fell on her ass when I swung the torch I held in her direction to get a better look.
What I saw as a very old albino dwarf woman. To me not something to be afraid of, but what she said well…
"Interloper! Interloper! You do not belong here! Stealer of visions, unraveler of dreams! All is disturbed."
I moved the torch away, let go of the grip I had on my sword hilt, and got down on one knee to look less threatening. I offered a hand to help her up but she refused to take it. I asked her who she thought I was.
"Who are you cries the raven! Smith? Earth-wrecker? Doom? Will you put the promised prince in danger? You and the White Sorceress don't belong!"
And that was all I got because Trystan found me and scared the crap out of the old dwarf who went running off into the trees.
It was morning by then and we roused everyone to move on. Nothing else of significance occurred with our visit to House Bracken, though they wanted me to send word to Hoster about whatever dispute of the moment they had with the Blackwoods. After that, we rode northwards to stay at the Inn of the Kneeling Man on the River road.
Now so far, as I had been gathering all my notes it was starting to get repetitive. My merry band had seen enough to sometimes wonder about my behavior as much as I tried to avoid it. Trystan hadn't said much to me since High Heart, so I wondered if he overheard anything that dwarf lady said, or if he was just spooked by the encounter in general. I needed to buy back some good graces, so I could not avoid drinking it up with them while we were here. It was damn hard to avoid whoring it up too.
Sandy! Another of my favorites. She was right there too. What is it you say where you are from? 'Come on man, you're killing me!' It has been over a month.
Right well, I made excuses over having too much wine, and…
Yes, like I really needed that reputation reinforced, I will be hearing that song again there because of it.
You already said that several days ago. Plus, you really shouldn't hate music. Consider all the new kinds of it from my world you now know of. It's just that song and the person that wrote it you hate. You'll want music at your name day celebration, for the benefit of others in attendance at the minimum.
Alright, I feel a bit bad for this, but it's just the way things are done here. As part of buying back some good graces, Kirth and Tristan lost their cherries on my dime, though Kirth's brothers pitched in too. After that, Tristan was talking again, so I'm lead to believe he was only weirded out by High Heart in general and it was not specific to me.
After the Inn of the Kneeling Man, we went west down the road to Mudgrave, and from there north to Pennytree and onward to Raventree Hall, home of House Blackwood. The Blackwoods acted just like the Brackens, not that they would admit it, down-talking their rivals, and requesting me to forward their grievances and so on. We stayed there an equivalent amount of time as we spent at the Brackens, just to be sure. They really did have the whole Hatfield-McCoy like feud going. I of course invited both houses to the name day celebration anyway. Well, I did such to each place I visited, and Vyman sent ravens to the other Riverlands houses as well before we left.
After leaving Raventree Hall we went back south and veered west to visit Wayn Manor, it's more of a giant house than a castle, hence only being a 'Manor'. I asked my mates if there was a bat-cave nearby, but of course they didn't get the reference. It is the seat of House Wayn, and its lands are located just northwest of Riverrun.
Old Utherydes, our steward, doesn't have any kids, and is the last of the Wayn name. Wayn is a noble house. Utherydes is no lord, but apparently his grandfather was. Presently only the childless Lady Wayn (who's is as old as Utherydes) and some hired servants keep the house up now. If she dies before Utherydes, then he will become lord; but only briefly given his age. It does make me wonder what will become of it when both of them finally pass on.[3]
Part of the Wayn lands includes the Tumblestone River out to where it borders with the Westerlands into the Tumblestone river valley. There were a couple of mills on the river, a grain mill and a saw mill. They run on water wheels, not the most efficient, as they are not overshot wheels, and looked to be in need of maintenance. However the Tumblestone, and I am guessing the valley behind it, would be an excellent place to industrialize. The area isn't great for farming, so not very populated, but is bordered by low mountain ranges to the north, west and south. The Tumblestone is fast moving enough, and drops in elevation frequently enough to power plenty of potential water wheels for mechanization. I don't know what kind of ores might be in those ranges, apparently there is gold near Golden Tooth, but I'm more interested in iron and ores for metal that these people have never heard of before.
Well after visiting Wayn Manor, (still never found a bat-cave, which could have been useful, for its guano and saltpeter) we got back to Riverrun late last night.
Utherydes left the notes I asked to be gathered from the nearby settlements on my desk. I'll fill in more of their details as needed and then organize a more coherent report for myself in a few days. I've written enough for now.
No don't think about going back there to talk to that woods witch
Not anytime soon, no, but we might have to eventually. Maybe there is a way there that might let me go home. Wouldn't you like to have your body back to yourself?
Meh
I'll take that as a yes. Didn't one of those farmers talk about weird woods whispering to the ghost, what's the deal with those?
Weirwoods, why do you always get that wrong? Trees worshipped by followers of the Old Gods, sporting faces carved into their trunks. You know one exists in the Godswood here.
And yet since I've been here, I've never gave it more than a passing glance.
Moments later, !Edmure stood in the Godswood facing the tall, slender heart tree. A sad face was carved into it long ago. He stood there for several minutes staring right at the sad face as a strong wind picked up.
I think "weird" is an apt description, also creepy.
The cool winter wind rustled and fluttered the hand-shaped leaves and creaked the trees of the Godswood in unison, the heart tree was no exception. A faint sound carried over the wind, "Who are you?" it seemed to ask.
Did you hear that?
No.
Spoiler: Author's Notes
Like
ReplyReport
25
0100010
Jun 11, 2017
New
Add bookmark
View content
Threadmarks !Edmure VII New
View content
0100010
0100010
Jun 11, 2017
Add bookmark
#48
!Edmure VII
10th day, 2nd Moon, Short Winter, Long Summer, 294 AC
I've been avoiding Hoster and Utherydes for a few days, and organizing my new workshop. I did go out and gather a few missing details from Utherydes's reports, though there was nothing much different in comparison. Here is the overall detail of the information I gathered.
Surnames, I point this out because of the oddness I encountered during the journey. Some small folk have them, but most don't. Those that do are derived from occupation, place of origin, father's name, etc. Just like the history from earth. My long term goal of introducing reforms and improvements is going to have to be coupled with good census and tax record keeping data. Better than what is going on now for sure, so I foresee assignment of surnames to those without to become more standardized. Some Nobles and Knights (if the Vance's were any indication), see this as odd (or too elevating to the small folk?) Plenty of others do not care, as it is encountered enough that it is not considered too unusual.
The State of Agriculture in the Riverlands:
Agriculture here in the region of the Riverlands that I explored uses three-field fallow rotation. Rotation occurs between 3 field types. Using the most common crops, the first field is a winter planting of wheat or rye alternated with a spring planting of barley or oats every other year. The second field is left fallow. The third field is a planting of lentils, beans or peas, in mixtures or alternating by year. The fields are also rotated each year. These staples are probably 90% of all the field based crop types. There are very few 'cash-crops' and during my trip only encountered one small cultivated field of 'woad' and 'madder' (or something analogous to them) which are used as blue and red dyes, respectively. (Grown by Jonathan 'Dyer' near Pennytree.)
These crops are supplemented by only a few orchards. Apple, pears and plums are grown in the areas I visited near Riverrun. I've heard there are peaches in the southern Riverlands, near Stoney Sept and the Blackwater, basically all temperate stone fruits, which make sense for the region. No nut orchards as far as I could tell. Nuts are gathered for sure but not on a 'commercial-farming' scale. This is mostly done by 'woodsmen' and trappers, who are already out and about in the forest, the same goes for berries when they are in season.
The majority of farmers own oxen or cattle as their beasts of burden. Poorer farmer do everything by hand. Other livestock consists of ducks, geese, chicken, goats, sheep, and pigs. There is little distinction in the areas I visited designating meat cattle vs. dairy cattle, so not much in the way of very deliberate, controlled breeding to seek specific traits. (This is also true of crossbreeding crop strains, i.e. not done much in a deliberate manner)
Very few of your average farmers own many horses here, except the occasional Drays. Cattle, oxen, donkeys, or mules will still pull wagons or carts as needed. Horses seem bigger and more enduring here in general which is a shame, but I imagine that also makes them more expensive to own as well. Plus they are a sign of more elite status, and owned mostly by the various nobles or Knightly houses for their use. I will have to keep this in mind for any improvements in plows and other animal drawn equipment.
The standard plow in common use is a basic wooden or iron tipped moldboard design. There is plenty of room for improvement here in design and material type. Harrowing (soil raking) is either done with hand rakes or with wooden triangular rakes drug by livestock. Fertilizing is not done in a systematic manner. After harvest, the field reverts to common use, or when a field is left to fallow, livestock can graze on it and thus then fertilize it. No coordinated system of collection, composting, and deliberate spreading of manure exists. Sowing (planting) is done by hand. There is no use of seed drills. There were stories of occasional 'seed tubes' for some kinds of crops, but no one I talked to actually used them. Reaping (harvesting) is also done by hand using sickles and scythes. It is the most labor intensive job and will likely be the most difficult to figure out how to mechanize. Threshing is again by hand with threshing flails, as is winnowing, using either winnowing barns or outdoors where the threshed grain is tossed in a basket and the straw is blown away in the wind.
As briefly mentioned, much of the arable land is 'common land'. Most small folk are subsistence farmers living in perpetual poverty. The idea of enclosure for better control of how it is used will be a very tough sell. There is also little deliberate land drainage and no concept of land reclamation (from swamps, flood plains, etc.)
The transportation network from farm to market to dinner plate along roads is poor (not counting what the subsistence farmers keep to feed themselves). The roads are unimproved. Cost effective road transport is a distance of maybe twelve to twenty miles at best. The waterways are much better for transport; there is plenty of barge traffic which greatly reduces transport cost. However I saw evidence of some wildly varying levels of historic flood lines, so it can be improved. There are ample opportunities for creating artificial waterways to extend the road to water network further inland. In general these rivers are going to need to be tamed.
Markets exist but are regulated and not free. There is no coherent regional or national market, only the local. Prices can differ greatly based on what was grown where, and there is little to no communication of prices. This forces farmers to sell surplus locally to an already over-supplied market for little, instead of at distant locales where their product might be in more demand. Variations in tax rates, price fixing regulations and other meddling implemented by different local lords also complicate the matter.
Agriculture & Infrastructure Improvement Ideas:
Take a good census combined w/ Surname distribution
Invent Cast Iron Heavy Plough (requires developing a cast-iron industry)
Introduce Four-Field Crop Rotation (turnips and clover do exist here)
Invent Better Raking/Harrowing tools
Introduce composting and deliberate, planned fertilization
Invent Seed Drills
Introduce scientific selective breeding (crops and animals)
Mechanical ox-pushed (not pulled) reaping machine? (Pliny said the Romans had one)
Threshing machine?
Rotary winnowing fan
Enclosures – tough sell, may have to delay it, will be needed eventually.
River levees and floodplain reclamation
Macadamized Roads
Channel waterways and canals
River and road toll houses.
Deregulating the Market mess
Improve communication speed
Cheaper more readily available draft horses for farmers
As for my other projects, the slow sand filter is done. It is producing clear, odor free water. Is it safe? I don't know. I am pretty sure I did everything right, but things like this are normally tested with equipment I will never have. I tried the clay plate test idea. It was inconclusive. The smell test was inconclusive. Right now I am on day three of the 'give it to a couple chickens and a pig for a week and see if they get sick or die' test. If they come out okay, I'll declare it a success risk drinking it myself.
My workshop building is completed. I've moved in some furniture and other tools, along with some of the distilling equipment I had gathered. My goal here is to make a continuous column for brandy and spirits distillation.
I had four 'ceiling fan blades' waiting for me, but I think they'll need a second attempt. I also still need to figure out how best to rig them up. They'll first go in the workshop then in the castle's main dining hall and sleeping rooms if possible.
My paper wire mesh frames will need a second, and probably a third or fourth attempt. I have excessive quantities of gathered scrap linen and sawdust. Had to announce that my desire for its collection was now stopped. This is more than enough for initial paper experiments. It's not as clean as I wanted despite asking for it to be, but that will be fixed.
What I am really going to need to do soon, is convince Hoster to let me try introducing the new farming methods, somewhere. If I get some prototypes tools done before spring in… 46 days …46 days in time for spring planting. Then I can use this as a demonstration test case for expansion of the ideas next year. In the meantime I'll try to plan out some 'land reclamation' areas in the flood plains, so I won't have to get into a fight over using any preexisting common lands. Of course I have to make enough money on side projects to pay for this and labor costs it will involve for this to be possible. I designed canals and levees for a living as both an army and civil engineer so I know what can be done here.
Things still to do and questions to answer:
Finish reading books, (finished the Seven Star book yesterday)
Water Piping: Iron, Copper, Lead (sewer out only) or Clay.
How is the pottery industry?
Where is copper and iron mined/imported from?
Blast Furnaces for pig iron (to turn into cast iron) note bloomeries already exist.
Invent a Fountain Pen
Waterproof Ink reservoir
Metal for pen nubs
Printing Press, typefaces, printing inks. (have to finish inventing paper first)
Concrete
Like
ReplyReport
33
0100010
Jun 11, 2017
New
Add bookmark
View content
Threadmarks Lord Petyr Baelish I New
View content
0100010
0100010
Jun 12, 2017
Add bookmark
#49
Lord Petyr Baelish I
10th day, 2nd Moon, Short Winter, Long Summer, 294 AC
Petyr stepped away from the peephole. Sasha had done her work well tonight, getting another weary reveler from the festivities drunk and spilling his secrets while he lay with her. If he were a generous man, he might give her a little extra for tonight's catch, but he wasn't so he wouldn't.
This mark might prove useful. Petyr thought, as he left his special hallway, and returned to his office, and then exited it into the main waiting area. Some of his girls were lined up, waiting for the late arrivals, and clients were lying about his expensive couches, mulling over who they would pick for tonight. It was getting very late in the evening however, but profits had been very good tonight. It always was on tourney days. Winners wanted to spend their winnings, losers wanted to be consoled. Everyone wanted to drink and loosen their inhibitions even more, which of course led to logical conclusions, and profits.
Despite everything else the shitty little Prince Joffrey said or did from time to time in Petyr's presence, he couldn't fault him for the grand Name Day parties and tourneys he always demanded. Petyr would always find the revenue for them, because big parties meant big business for him later. The King himself had ducked out not long ago, after spending an hour or two with Vivian.
She had been a fortunate find, coming across from Gulltown just over a fortnight ago, on a ship with a few Vale Knights to make a greater profit for herself in King's Landing. He hired her immediately because she bore a striking resemblance to Lyanna Stark, and knew she would catch the King's eye much more than most. He made sure she passed by the view of King Robert a few times while they were out in the city.
"Who's that?" Robert had asked.
"One of my girls" Petyr had said. "Would you like to meet her?" That was all it took.
The only downfall was that he had to make sure she was available at a moment's notice, even if it meant kicking out whoever she was with and compensating him with another girl or two. That and he had to make sure Queen Cersei never saw her. It was not like Cersei did not know of King Robert's whoring, and she would leave the others alone, but she'd have Vivian killed just for daring to look too much like Robert's old unrequited love.
Though it turns out one of the knights on the ship Vivian had sailed over with, was here now, just exiting Sasha's room. Petyr looked at the young man, sizing up the mark before he went in for the kill.
"Ser Trevor," Petyr said, smiling as he walked over to him. "I hope Sasha was a delight, and helped to liven your mood."
"Who said my mood needed to be livened?" the young Ser asked.
"Oh, no one, you just seemed a bit dour when you came in, and I noticed you were not with your friends."
"What friends would that be?" Ser Trevor inquired.
"Ser Albar, and Ser Robar? I heard you traveled to King's Landing together, and just assumed…."
"They are not my friends." He hissed.
"Oh, my apologies, here let us sit. Marie, bring us two glasses of wine. Perhaps I can offer you a toast then, to celebrate your betrothal." Petyr said as he led the young soon to be Lord over to a couch.
"Now tell me then what is still troubling you that one, or perhaps two, of my girls could not solve?" Petyr asked as Marie bent down low in front of Ser Trevor in her barely worn dress.
Petyr feigned interest as young Trevor Hersy regaled his tale of woe and financial misfortune. He of course already knew the lurid tale. It was not often that the Hand of the King had visitors regarding matters that his Steward back at the Vale could not handle. It was not a very interesting situation, certainly nothing Petyr thought of as particularly important among the Game of Thrones. But, an opportunity to put a potential asset in his pocket should not be ignored.
Trevor finished his tale, and downed his glass of wine. "Well, I can see how already owning money to your High Lord, can be a predicament. Your potential new lands though, they are near Gulltown am I correct?" Petyr asked. Ser Trevor nodded in affirmation.
"Well, I have many friends there, perhaps I can help."
Like
ReplyReport
30
0100010
Jun 12, 2017
New
Add bookmark
View content
Threadmarks Melisandre II New
View content
0100010
0100010
Jun 13, 2017
Add bookmark
#53
Melisandre II
10th day, 3rd Moon, Short Winter, Long Summer, 294 AC
It was a new moon, the sky was overcast, but the air was dry. Perfect weather to make a sacrifice to R'hllor. Melisandre thought as she stared in anticipation as the slaves set about preparing the great bonfire at the Red Temple in Volantis. She'd spend the last twenty-five days in Volantis, waiting for this night. She spent the forty-nine days prior to that traveling on that uncomfortable ship from Asshai to here. The Vision in the flames that winter solstice night in Asshai had been so clear. She saw a man born of smoke and salt, a smoking volcano beaten by salt-water waves jutting from the sea. Dragonstone was the obvious place to find Azor Ahai reborn. Yet a mere day later, in the tiny flicker of a candle flame, did R'hllor show the hint of something different; the fork-bearded man and the silver haired beggar children. Why?
After paying her respects at the temple, she normally would have moved on, taking another ship to continue her journey the next day. Instead, she created her ritual fire again, sacrificed another slave to R'hllor, and prayed for guidance. The visions were disjointed, cracked, and of many paths, but still she glimpsed the silver haired children…and fleeting glimpses of other things, she could not yet explain.
In the time since then and now she wondered, failing to grasp an interpretation that gave her clarity and focus. My visions are beyond ken, the answers will come to me in time. She repeatedly thought to herself, yet also did not cease wondering, what could have changed?
"Does your flame waver?" Moqorro asked her.
"My flame never waivers" Melisandre said to the dark-skinned, painted priest.
"The preparations are complete, Master" The slave told Benerro, the High Priest of the temple.
The slave had seen the light, and converted to the faith of the one true god. Those that didn't, a dozen in all, for this night, were tied to their stakes, in various states of praying to foreign gods and crying. It will not help them. Melisandre thought. Their gods will not answer, for they do not exist.
"Then prove your faith to the one true god, R'hllor, the Lord of Light. Cleanse your brethren, and by doing so purify your blood to be born again, free, apart from the heathens and kin that bore you into this world." Benerro intoned to the slave.
The slave walked slowly up to the bonfire; torch in hand, tears cascading down his face. Several of the tied up slaves shouted angry curses at him. One spit in his face, others just cried and prayed. At last he came to the oil-soaked bundle of kindling below the feet of one elderly woman. "I'm sorry mama" he said, as he set the torch to the wood, and stepped away. He fell to the floor, convulsed and vomited as the flames raced around the stakes, and began to consume the sacrifices amidst their death screams. Melisandre barely noticed as the guards took the freed-man away, dragging his limp fainted form elsewhere.
Melisandre stared deep into the great bonfire. Shapes swirled and formed in the raging flames. Oh Lord of Light, show me, she prayed. Then they came to her, a multitude of overwhelming visions.
Again, the silver haired beggar children; she could see them more clearly now. The girl not yet flowered perhaps only ten winters old, her face, dirty, tired and frightened. The boy, only a few years older, his face is angry and contorted. They stand outside an inn. He is being ridiculed; the patrons throw food at him and shout angrily. Then the yellow fork-bearded man appears, he is tall and rotund, he is with the children now, standing above them.
The visions change, they show a bearded knight. A faded black bear is on his tattered green raiment. He fights in battles, aged and weary, but strong and skilled.
Then the visions warp and shake, they flow in reserve and alter course, and shatter. New ones form from the pieces. It is another fleeting glimpse of the sea-swept volcano. It shifts again, a band of men in black furs trudge through deep snow. It shifts again, and shows a tall brick wall enclosing a red-leafed tree. Another shift, corpses of soldiers drift by in a bloody river.
Melisandre felt another force pushing, against the display of visions, distorting them, crumbling them. She felt the heat of her necklace intensify against her neck. She looked deeper into the flames; she saw a great round beast floating in the sky; bright flashes and puffs of smoke rose up from a giant star made of stone. A group of giant white swans floated across the ocean. A chair of blades lay on its side under the water. An entire city was choked by smoke and fire. A great avalanche of ice and snow buried castles. The seas froze, encasing whole ships. A giant's hammer beat hot metal too large for a man to hold. A smith stood by directing an army of workers, his visage blurred.
Melisandre felt sick as the visions began to slip and overwhelm her. She concentrated harder against whatever was muddling, and interfering with them.
She saw a stone man, gaunt and skeletal, riding a pale mare. A sorceress in white stood against it. Try as she might, she could not see her face. The sorceress slew the man and the beast with a crystal spear.
Her head swam, her vision dimmed, finally she saw her own face through a circle of glass, then a flash and nothing.
When she awoke, Moqorro was helping her to her feet. The bonfire was naught but smoking ashes. She felt dried sticky blood from her nose on her face, and on her dress. Moqorro and Benerro looked equally exhausted.
"What happened?" She asked.
"You stared too deeply into the flames." Moqorro said. "We all did."
"Those other signs, you saw them?"
"An unknown force" Moqorro replied.
"Nay, a distraction by the great other," Benerro intoned. "Rest here longer" he said to Melisandre. "The tattered knight is near the city. Find, watch and follow him, but do not interfere. He will lead you to the red-bearded man and the silver haired children."
Like
ReplyReport
30
0100010
Jun 13, 2017
New
Add bookmark
View content
Threadmarks !Myranda VII New
View content
0100010
0100010
Jun 15, 2017
Add bookmark
#58
!Myranda VII
Spring Equinox, Short Spring, Long Summer, 294 AC
Today was the first day of spring. There were festivals and lots of preparations among the 'small folk' in preparation for spring planting. I momentarily thought this was also the new year but no, as Myranda reminded me, the new year was on winter solstice, so at least nine more moons of 294 AC to go.
Albar returned from King's Landing (KL from now on) several days ago, Robar returned with him but stayed at Runestone. He said that Ser Trevor stayed behind in KL. Don't know why, don't really care. Albar brought back Lord Arryn's official letter on the matter. It was pretty much as the raven message said, so not worth repeating. Albar also brought us back a belated name day present, a nice ivory comb and a pair of ivory hair sticks. I guess he actually noticed that we had changed the style.
He told us all of his trip and of Prince Joffrey's name day party and the grand tourney, of meeting King Robert and Queen Cersei. (This really meant just seeing them from across the room and from the melee field.) Yes there was a melee and a tourney that Albar and Robar both attended. Our brother did alright, he out lasted Ser Robar, and made it to the last seven standing in the melee before yielding to Sandor Clegane. He tried to taunt this Sandor a bit to try and throw him off, and that didn't turn out to be wise. He's still nursing some broken ribs, a few cuts, and a badly wounded ego. Myranda and I have been tending to him medically.
Albar described Sandor as a big man, but smaller than his brother Ser Gregor, who I guess wasn't present, with a hideous old burn scar on his face. I only note it here because it makes me wonder about skin grafts, something I've assisted with before, and other modern surgery techniques. It will be a long while before anything close to that is possible. Sandor won the melee. He also watched but did not participate in the jousts or lists as they sometimes call them here. He says Ser Barristan Selmy, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard won the tourney.
So for the past couple months/moons we have kept very busy. Has it really been that long? Three months since I woke up in this place? Reminder: look into the calendar and astronomy stuff again. One of the quirk's compared to Earth calendar's is that today, the Spring Equinox, sits in between the 3nd and 4th month/moon, without actually being part of either one. The same is true for the fall equinox, and the summer and winter solstice. Reminder: commission a sundial, (and eventually, clocks would be nice)
We celebrated a minor victory today, we finished taking in the waists of all our clothes again yesterday. Between making the ascent and descent to the Eyrie many times, running around chasing mules with Mya, putting in extra manual labor at the house hold, and my daily exercise regimen, we've shed quite a few pounds, or I guess I should say 'stones'. Visually at least, there is no digital scale for us to use to check our progress. It's still not as far as I want to go, but close. It might be this body's limit or Myranda just needs to stop sneaking cakes while I'm 'asleep'. Although, at this rate of physical activity, we may be inadvertently switching toward building more muscle in the future.
Myranda, where do you go exactly when you're 'not there'?
I do not know, asleep it is as good an explanation as any, I would ask you the same, but I know it is actual sleep for you
Anyway, about that sleep, not asleep, there, not there thing, we've learned a few interesting things, and noticed some beneficial side effects, so I'm cataloging them here.
First off, Myranda is 'not there' or 'is asleep' for about one third of the full day (sun-up to sun-up) give or take an 'hour' or two. It is the same as like when I and our body are asleep for the night, (Also give or take an hour. On Earth I averaged 6-8 on good nights when not on insane ER shifts.) The rest periods for both of us necessarily overlaps, at least by half or more. After some recent ill-advised experimenting, we discovered our body needs us to experience at least (4 hours?) or half a night's simultaneous sleep, to function well, even if our minds had (8 hours?) or a full night's rest outside of that. It's weird, and we are still trying to figure it out. I discovered this when I noticing some days where I woke up and Myranda already had us downstairs 'breaking her fast'. Other times I knew I fell asleep writing at our desk, yet woke up in bed the next morning. (Sometimes with a memory of Myranda sneaking those cakes in the kitchen)
A about a week ago, I let Myranda take over for an entire day. We effective reversed roles and I was the voice in her head. It was enlightening (and sobering), to realize what it felt like for what Myranda has been feeling and going through since my arrival. Since then, we've now been sharing a lot more cooperatively, with some interesting benefits.
Myranda is left-handed, I am right-handed, and together we're ambidextrous. Mya even spotted me writing with my right hand not long ago and inquired. I switch to my left and just said I had learned to use both. We both had artistic tendencies, and together it's double, or is at least cumulative. Quite useful for all the diagrams and drawings I have been making of late.
Our ability to multi-task has increased tremendously. I guess having two-minds available to concentrate on different things simultaneously helps with that. This extends far enough that we recently experimented with reading a book and writing at the same time. It worked sort-of. The drawback is in needing to have both book and parchment in close view at the same time, which can be rather awkward. However, we cannot do that independent eyes thing like chameleons. (We tried, and only got a bad headache.) On the other hand splitting senses is easier, Myranda can concentrate on auditory activities while I concentrate on visual activities or vice-versa. Our observational skills have increased a lot as well if we're both focused on it, I supposed for the same reason. We can follow (or eavesdrop) on two different conversations as easily as following one. Overlapping skills seem cumulative to some degrees (though there was not a great deal of overlap)
All these benefits only work when we are both 'awake' at the same time, and cooperating. The drawbacks are that when we are in an in-depth conversation with each other in our own heads, we can become nearly catatonic and oblivious to the outside world. This becomes much worse if we are arguing, or being uncooperative. So far we have managed to keep these events to when we are alone, or excuse ourselves to be alone if not. Other noted effects are that we can share dreams, and interact with each other separately within them (plus I get to 'appear' as myself.)
We've recently visited all the nearby villages within less than a half-day's ride of the Gates of the Moon (GotM from now on). The largest nearby town (while still being small itself) is called Lakeshore[1]. It is one day's ride away on good horses. Aptly named, it is located on the west shore of a lake in the Vale of Arryn east of the GotM. A ferry across the lake gets you to Iron Oaks. Lakeshore was where I bought my cloth and a few other minor supplies initially. However they don't have nearly enough of other things I need (including parchment), so I will have to plan a trip to Gulltown for supplies, and hopefully sell some things.
During these visits to nearby villages my goal was to talk to various healers and herbalists to see who knew what and get a better understanding of local remedies, and see if any of them are worth a damn, (both the healers and the remedies.) We only talked to four women, and I dismissed 3 of them rather quickly as not worth the bother. One elderly 'woods-witch' named (Yerund?) seemed to know her stuff at least. It's still a far cry from my own knowledge, but I have to find a way to work with local resources. She has a helper, a young girl about ten years old named Sylla. She claims to be the old woman's great-granddaughter. Neither knows how to read and write, so their whole herbal system is by memory. We came to an arrangement once she realized I knew my stuff too, at least in other areas. I'd buy or trade for medicines from her as needed. (Yerund is too old to do house calls), and care for and continue teaching Sylla when her time came.
So recently now, we occasionally go out to tend to the medical needs of the immediately nearby villages. Septa Ana and Mya usually come with us. Septa Ana sees my skill and thinks it another sign of my blessing. Mya mostly helps with the mules or horses, medicine and healing isn't her thing. Sylla is also occasionally with us. We're having Septa Ana teach her to read and write on some days she is at the GotM, other times she is out with us, but she is still mostly at Yerand's log cabin most days of the week. Nestor initially made a stink about her staying at the GotM even briefly, but relented when I pointed out she was bringing supplies for Albar's medicines and poultices while he was still healing.
Maester Nolan's healing knowledge, or rather his method of care, isn't much worth a damn (but far, far better than nothing). He knows some for sure, all Maesters apparently know a little, or what they consider the minimum. Mainly it is that he is a surly asshole who is drunk most of the time. We learned during one of his inebriated tirades that most nobles wouldn't have him and that was why he was stationed at the Bloody Gate, plus he says he's got two links for 'war and ravenry', before he lost his train of thought and rambled about something else. I guess that somehow factors into Lord Jon Arryn having sent him there too.
Have to admit though, that Nolan's drunkenness is partly enabled by us. We've been bribing him with cheap wine for continued unrestricted access to The Eyrie's library and Maester Coleman's study. Also in exchange for him scribing us copies of Coleman's medical books, (so long as he is sober enough to do the job properly.)
We've finished reading both of them now, so we'll know if he did the job right. We've also finish the Seven Pointed Star and Stone and Vale, both of these have been read by Myranda in years past, in whole or in part, so it became just a refresher. We're working on the 'Blacks and the Green's' next, but slowly, as we've got so much to do now, there is minimal free time for reading non-essential stuff.
So updates on other progress and activities. We've got the better hygiene and sanitation practices implemented at GotM and the Eyrie now. Our father ordered the guards and Knights to get on board with it too. We're trying to introduce it some in the local villages when we make our rounds. Our first sand-charcoal-cloth water filter has been up and running for a month now. We've delegated some of the workers here to build another one too.
We've thoroughly looked into food preservation techniques. We interviewed plenty of the household chefs and even some small folk to know what techniques they already had. The typical ones were already well known, drying, smoking, salting and pickling. We can't add canning until we get good glass workers, wire and something to use as a good seal. Does this world even have rubber? We have though, written up designs and drawings of the glass canning jars that will be needed. We were able to introduce jellying with aspic and jugging, though personally I find the idea of jugging anything that isn't fish a bit distasteful, but by my uptime grandmother's word it works and I've seen it work, so I know that's just my personal bias.
After a lot of back and forth arguing, Kent, our smith finally got a good 'meter' bar made. This work has since expanded to include a half-meter bar, and a 1/10 meter bar attached at a right angle to another 1/10 meter bar. I had them all engraved with very carefully measured marks displaying proper Arabic numeral markings (which are a somewhat new concept on their own.) Kent didn't recognize the numeric symbols but figured it out after an explanation and seemed fascinated with the numbering system. Using the meter bar, I made a long strip of strong edge sewn silk ribbon and marked it with matching marks to make myself a cloth tape measure. This made measuring the women and then the cloth to be cut a lot easier. Just to point this out, I don't know if I managed to get close to an actual earth-meter, but I took my best guess, I suppose as long as it is consistent everywhere, it will work. We did try to make it as close as possible to the more frequently used standard of "a meter" ('an outstretched arm as measured from the opposite shoulder across the body and to the extended fingertip) currently in use, just to make it more appealing.
On the rest of the textiles front, despite helpers, production of bras was really slow going. We'll really need to shift focus to spinning wheels, which we've finished design plans for, and sewing machines, whose design plans are only partially completed, (and I'm not sure if I remember all of its parts correctly.) With help 7 different sizes of "version II" have been made, for myself, Mya, and five of the other female household residents. With a cloth tape measure and cloth sewing patterns, (paper sewing patterns will be a no-go for a long time) we've got all the basic shape pieces in place. The drawbacks however, is that there is no elasticity (as in no elastic bands), straps are not adjustable, and the back is secured by two vertically oriented pairs of 'stick buttons' and two vertical pairs of loops on the opposite side to secure them in because buttonholes have not been invented. The two pairs of loops and buttons allow at least three position settings: right buttons into left loops (the tightest/smallest), right into right and left into left (the middle), and left buttons into right loops (the loosest/largest) setting. This works for now, but we don't like this as a final solution. The buttons get caught on garments and look unsightly even under the clothes, and can be felt pushing into the back when pressed on by heavier garments. This design also does not have stitching as strong as I want, but that will need a sewing machine to fix.
With wire, I can add underwire, and hook and eye closures to get rid of the button-loop solution. These, along with some light buckles can also serve to allow adjustable, attachable straps. Right now each bra is custom tailored to each person to fit right, that can't be done for mass production.
Other clothing and textile products we've completed include cotton gauze. Gauze is just a loose weave style of fabric and was something generally familiar in Westeros already, but most hadn't used cotton for it before. What we did was sew it into an hourglass shaped envelope, gauze on the front side, normal weave cotton on the back, and stuff it with cotton wads. Presto maxi-pad! We even added wings. I don't think tampons are going to be viable. We also made a basic set of patterns for close fitting ladies cotton underwear, no elastic band of course, so I had to include a drawstring.
Cotton gauze in general will be the first thing to use as bandages in our slowly forming 'healer's bag'. We've already repurposed a stiff-sided leather satchel for this, though we'll likely replace it with something better later. We're going to need lots of tins, boxes, and bottles for various herbs and ointments. We've sketched out a Trumpet's ear stethoscope to get made at some point too. I also want to get a toothbrush and toothpaste invented. I am getting a bit tired of using a frayed twig and flossing with cotton thread which keeps breaking on me.
I was overenthusiastic about my fulcrum scissor design, and totally expecting the two blade halves to be able to be forged and cast as a single piece, with the handle as part of the same piece of metal as the blade. After a lot of arguing I came to understand that this was not possible. Kent said they could not get a fire hot enough to melt iron like it was gold to pour into a mold like that. Kent knew this without really expressing it to me, and thus focused on the meter bar stuff, and mostly ignoring the scissors. We finally came round to a compromise in which, if the looped handles are a separate piece, carved from wood or such, and the blades inserted into them, and then it might be more achievable. He also asked why I didn't ask the Eyrie's armor and weapon smith, who was more experienced with blades, since he mostly worked on tools and horseshoes. I guess I should have, and plan to do so tomorrow.
A locksmith has come and gone. Although he was quite respectful since I was a 'Lady of the house' he still seemed dismissive of my ideas and not all that receptive to innovation. Still he improved the lock on my door and made a lock for a new large storage box that I keep my money and all my English written papers and drawings in. We'll need to find someone more creative though. The eventual sewing machine will have many small mechanical parts, and a locksmith might seem a better choice as someone perhaps more familiar with mechanics that your average smith.
In Summary:
Health, Hygiene, & Preservation Projects:
Better sanitation – completed at GotM & Eyrie
Improved medical and food hygiene – completed at GotM & Eyrie
Sand-Charcoal-Cotton Water filters – Completed at GotM (2nd one being built too)
Food Preservation: Jellying & Jugging – Introduced at GotM & Eyrie
Cotton Gauze Bandages – completed
Maxi's - completed
Assessing Local Medicinal Flora – partially completed
Healers Bag – partially completed
Glass Canning Jars – Designed
Penicillin & General Antibiotics
Vaccinations
Toothbrushes, toothpaste, & floss
Better Soaps
Washing Soda (Sodium carbonate - Natron)
Baking Soda (Sodium bicarbonate – also called Natron?)
Epsom salts (Magnesium Sulfate - what's local name?)
Microscope
Textile Projects:
Meter & other measuring bars – completed
Cloth Tape Measure – completed
Cloth Sewing Patterns – completed
Bra vII – completed
Undergarments – completed
Fulcrum Scissors – designed
Spinning Wheel – designed
Sewing Machine – partially designed
Better Pins & Needles
Misc. Sewing Supplies (bobbins, thimbles, etc.)
Adjustable Dress Mannequin
Hook and Eye Closures
Other Project Ideas:
Cosmetics
Jewelry
Paper
Pencils & Pens
Clocks
Bicycle
[1] Another made up town name for TTL.
1st day, 4th Moon, Short Spring, Long Summer, 294 AC
We talked to the Eyrie's weapon-armor smith today, Brynn is his name. I feel really dumb, wire was available, got a good spool of it from him. Chainmail is made of wire. I should have realized that before, instead of wasting a bunch of time on lesser designs. How did I have so many misunderstanding with Kent?
Brynn will make my two scissors blades. He was dismissive though, questioning the ideas of a woman, said I ought to go back to Kent the smith at the GotM and get something simpler. Yeah, already tried that…. Money talks though, I probably paid too much. He said the two blades will take ten to thirty days to make as he has other more important projects to work on for Lord Arryn. Ten to thirty days? I have to figure out how to introduce mass production because that rate of speed for just one pair of scissors won't be economical. We'll work on bra design vIII, and maybe some better pins and needles, maybe try some assembly line ideas there, while we wait for the scissors to be done. (They'll probably not be ideal on the first try either) Need to find a wheel wright too for the spinning wheel. Also need to plan that Gulltown trip.
Like
ReplyReport
29
0100010
Jun 15, 2017
New
Add bookmark
View content
Threadmarks !Edmure VIII New
View content
0100010
0100010
Jun 15, 2017
Add bookmark
#63
!Edmure VIII
1st day, 4th Moon, Short Spring, Long Summer, 294 AC
Well, I just got through my first Brandy & Whiskey hangover. It was strong but terrible, because it barely had any time to age at all. Spring Equinox celebrations were last night and today I got absolutely nothing at all done, due to said hangover, so I'm just going to catch up on my journal.
It took a fair bit of arguing, but a couple months back I got Hoster to relent on letting me use a patch of land upriver on the Tumblestone. It was partial floodplain, but with a lot of hard labor, I got a small levee up. Although it should hold as is, I should be able to get it reinforced over the next month before spring rains get heavier. At the same time I should be able to get it plowed. Hoster tried to make it hard on me, only relented to crappy land. He actually tried to set me up to fail on much worse land, but there are limits to what I can do. He still thinks this will fail. This patch of land was 'bad' because it had a partial flood risk, and the rest of it was pretty rough. Well, the flood risk part has been solved, and the 'rough' land will hopefully be solved by my prototype heavy plow and a strong dray horse I'll be putting to work on it this week. The same laborers that helped build the levee have already cleared the field area of trees, their stumps, and large rocks.
So as of today, I have one prototype heavy plow. The moldboard is made of bronze because nobody has cast iron yet that I can find. Its cutting edge is lined with steel though. Admittedly, it is too heavy and too expensive (because of the bronze) for a final product, but it's a prototype, and once I have a blast furnace built, they'll be made from cast iron. I had to send Wyndel to Lord Harroway's town to recruit a bronze caster to handle the plow's casting job. I'll also keep him busy with future projects. Even though it hasn't been used yet, I've already got some ideas for minor design improvements on the plow.
I've also got a basic ox-drawn seed drill nearly completed. I'll be putting some finishing touches on it and it will be ready by the time the plowing is done. I've also had a modified spiked tooth drag harrow made. It too will be ox-drawn. A drug harrow rake wasn't unfamiliar to the farmers in the here and now, and this only has some slight design differences. Eventually it too should be made of iron, but there was no way to finish that many iron tools in time for spring. I've also drawn up designs for disc, tine, and chain harrows.
After plowing and harrowing, comes manure/fertilizer spreading. I have designs for a manure spreader, basically a modified wagon. For now though the manure spreader will be a couple guys standing on or following the back of a normal flat wagon with a rake and shovel. Actual planting with the, by then completed, ox-drawn seed drill will come next.
Interestingly, I've managed to completely jump-start the rag and bone man trade in all the settlements near Riverrun. I had to drop the payment prices by more than half compared to before, because of oversupply. That was a tough decision, but it had to be done. Still, its pennies that some of these small folk are making that they otherwise wouldn't have. My initial supplies of rags and sawdust had been exhausted with lots of failed paper-making attempts. At least I'm better at it now. The collected bones have been crushed by an old hand-mill I had salvaged, since I didn't want it mixed into grain mills. Eventually I'll need to design a water powered bone crusher to make job of producing bone meal easier.
When I haggled for my land use I made sure it contained a good stretch along the Tumblestone for irrigation. However it won't just be for irrigation, as there will be a few water wheels built there eventually. Hoster currently thinks it will all be farm land plus a water mill site. However, it won't be all farmland and the foundation I have already gotten laid out for the 'mill site' is really for a blast furnace. The new backshot waterwheel I've designed will power the bellows. A second one (if I can't use the one water wheel to power both) will power an eventual trip hammer. The main drawback I can see is getting ore delivered to this site. Barging things upriver on the Tumblestone will be problematic, so it will have to be carted in. Downriver though should be easier assuming the rumors of ores in the mountain are true, but the problem there is that despite its low population levels, the Tumblestone river valley upriver is 'owned' by the Westerlands. Barging from either direction though may require some canal construction to get the most efficient route.
Aside from the foundation already laid for the blast furnace, I've also planned out locations for other support buildings, It's largely about a third less land than Hoster was probably assuming was to be used for farming, but since I'll be introducing four-field crop rotation including fodder turnip and clover plantings, I won't need it for that purpose, and I'll still probably get more yield than I would have if I had used the entire area for planting. I've also designed a rotary winnowing fan and winnowing barn, but I don't need to worry about getting them built until before the harvests. If everything goes well, in ten years' time, this whole demo farm will get swallowed up and converted in the expansion of Riverrun into a proper city anyway.
Once I have the Blast Furnace done, which may take most of the rest of the year to get up and running, I can start cranking out better agricultural tools. With these I can then help farmers establish agricultural co-ops, through which they can afford more expensive but also more efficient equipment. The co-op will own the equipment, which will then be leased to individual farmers on a rotating basis.
When I wasn't off overseeing the demo farm lands and furnace site, I was hanging out in my new workshop. I've set up a prototype continuous distillation column. (However it's just linked up horizontal stills rather than a true vertical column just yet.) I made my first test batches of Brandy and Whisky from these a few days ago. They're, rather course, given they were not aged at all, and could use some recipe improvement. Main difference is giving them the chance to age properly in oak casks. I had several casks ordered from House Lolliston. They should get here before my Name Day celebration. My first ceiling fan is also spinning overhead in the workshop. I spent so much time in there working on designs and tinkering with the still that I found it annoying to go back and forth to eat. Therefore I invented sandwiches, and had the servants deliver them to me, or I took them with me in the morning if I'm going out to the demo farm.
All this busy activity also means I've been avoiding Hoster by hiding out in the workshop or on the farm. It was partly on purpose and partly out of necessity. I've overheard that he thinks I am getting too chummy with the hired hands, and that he still thinks that these 'foolish endeavors' will be failures and that I'll finally stop this nonsense once I realize that. I also think he is disdaining the whole 'nobles engaged in trade' bit. That doesn't make any sense to me, even despite what Edmure has said about it. We'll he'll be in for a surprise, they all will.
I actually finished reading that damnable boring Book of Laws. I forced myself to finish it because I'll really need to know about what legal means or problems might be encountered to have any hope of eventually enclosing common lands, as well as dealing with lands not directly owned but part of various vassal's holdings. I've gathered that our house will probably legally inherit the lands of House Whent around Harrenhal when Lady Whent dies, the last of her sons died in Robert's rebellion. A case could probably be made for re-absorption of Wayn lands too, when Lady Wayn and Utherydes die, though who knows how long it will be for all those things to take place. It's certainly not my goal to rush it along, but the Wayn lands will be an important area of expansion in the future.
I also made my first fountain pen. I am not currently writing with it, because it was a spectacular failure. Existing dip pen inks apparently don't react very well with it. Granted as a first prototype, setbacks are to be expected. I made it out of a simple open ended hollow reed, the outside sealed with wax. The nub was shaped out of flattened, then curved, iron wire. The ink kept getting clogged up, and the iron nub is already rusting. I also learned that the little circle in the nub must be functional and not just decorative; I should have known that though. After pressing particular hard (I had given up on it being viable and was now just stress testing the thing on purpose) the slit split further up the nub into the base of the reed reservoir and made it leak all over my hand. Half my right hand is currently still stained a nice bluish-black despite several scrubbings.
Paper making, while more successful than my fountain pen foray, was still filled with failures. Though by now I do have some 'ok' rough rag linen paper. It's not good enough for writing or books, but okay for random notes and sketches. (Also not good enough for toilet paper yet, too rough. Corn husks are still better for that.
Damn it why the hell haven't I tried using corn husk to make paper?
Note to self: Try using corn husks for making paper. I'm satisfied with the design for the wire screens I am currently using, but I'll need to make more of them. Pressing the paper mulch has been done by hand so far, but this is another candidate job for water wheel power, so I am drawing up plans for a paper mill building also.
I'm having a decent sized stable built on the demo farm land also. The fodder part of the fields will allow yearlong grazing and livestock breeding. I put a sand pit underneath it to try the Swiss method of niter production. That will take a year to realize though. However, this is unlikely to be a quick enough turn-around time for my needs, so I am still looking for bat caves to mine out the guano deposits. So far I've only heard of some near Harrenhal, which is the reason why the Whent coat of arms has bats on it.
The scribe we eventually found was kid named Derrick Storm, a bastard originally from the Stormlands. He's only 14, claims to be from the Cafferton family. His mother Delia, was apparently raped by members of the Kingswood Brotherhood in 280 AC. He was raised there for most of this life, long enough to learn to read and write and do basic arithmetic. Then his mother died in childbirth a year ago, and he got cast out, and has been wandering since. He's a scrawny kid and walks with a bit of a limp, so he'll never be a Knight, probably not even a squire. Seems his goal is to make enough money to study to be a Maester. Anyway, both he and my cousin Wyndel Rivers are 'noble bastards.' Their relative lack of opportunity yet decent education (compared to the average), gives me an idea of trying to give them opportunities they would never have otherwise. Furthermore, I'll need skilled, educated workers beyond what I can find among the small folk to fill engineering and civil servant type roles.
Yes I'm sure you'll have something strong to say about this, but since your still 'asleep' from last night's partying I don't have to hear about it right now.
Well, Derrick worked quickly enough, so I've kept him busy further by setting him out to take a census of all the surrounding villages near Riverrun. Secondary reasons for doing the census, beside accurate tax collection, is to know what kind of workforce population is actually available, and what kind of food requirements will be in need (if I take this whole long winter thing seriously, and the giant storerooms and numerous stories indicate I should.) Also I plan on introducing village councils which will be able to mediate small local issues, and bring generalized grievances/issues to Riverrun. Village councils should be elected, and should elect a representative to speak to Riverrun.
I'm going to try all of this, agricultural methods included, with the small folk directly connected to Riverrun. I'm pretty confident that it'll work, but then I can at least back up recommendations of these innovations to the other lords of the Riverlands with proof. I just hope I don't have to wait for Hoster to die first before I have enough authority in make it all happen without a lot of arguing and second-guessing.
For example, an idea I have yet to mention to anyone but that I'm going to push really hard for is the establishment of signal towers throughout the Riverlands. The Maesters, who Edmure recalls are like a guild of alchemists or proto-scientists, have a pretty efficient system of sending messages via raven, but I don't think that will be very good for real emergencies. I've been doodling designs for old-fashioned semaphore towers, and code-books. If I can get them up and running, we'll have early warnings of invasions, be able to rapidly track bandit raids and triangulate their locations, that sort of thing. It may be a bit costly, but is probably worth it. I am hoping I can incorporate them into existing, necessary periodically placed structures such as road and river tollhouses and then maybe they also won't get noticed right away, at least until the signaling mechanisms are up. I'll still need to think about how to make them work somewhat at night or during heavily overcast days. I'll also need lots of spyglasses.
New agriculture Improvements checklist:
Heavy Plow (version 1 completed)
Harrowing tools (drag, disc, tine & chain): wooden drag version done, metal drag designed.
Seed Drill (version 1 nearly completed)
Planned Fertilization (compost, manure and bone meal canvas bagging underway)
Four Field Crop Rotation (to be implemented soon at demo farm)
Selective livestock breeding (will be started soon at demo farm)
Winnowing Fan and Barn designed
Manure Spreader
Reaping Machine
Agricultural Co-Ops
Health and Sanitation checklist:
Latrines implemented in Riverrun & demo farm
Hygiene, clean water and washing practices implemented in Riverrun & demo farm
Slow-Sand Bio-filter completed at Riverrun
Antibiotics, Vaccinations?
Medicines?
Near Term Money Makers:
Continuous Distillation Column (version 1 completed at Riverrun)
Brandy, Whiskey, Cognac, Bourbon
Paper Wire Frame done
Paper (rough available, need to refine)
Fountain Pens (needs redesign)
New Fountain Pen Ink (need an ink maker?)
Infrastructure, Bureaucracy, Tax Base
Census in Riverrun "inner district" underway. Wayn Lands or Riverrun "outer district" next?
Village Councils
Macadamized Roads
River and Road Tollhouses
Semaphore Signal Towers (part of the toll house buildings? Need spyglasses)
Plumbing System & Sewers
River Levees & Canals, Flood Control
Backshot water wheels
Industry:
Blast Furnace (under construction)
Cast Iron
Concrete and Cement
Defense:
Cannon
Gunpowder (need Niter Beds or Guano Mines & Sulfur)
Smoothbore Flintlocks, then Rifles
Mobile Pontoon Bridge Boats
River Fortresses
Other Stuff:
Ceiling Fans (being implemented at Riverrun)
Sandwiches - and better food program for workers, (proto cafeteria?)
Printing Press
Numerical system
Published Books
Playing Cards
Condoms
Random Notes
Go back to High Heart and talk with that albino dwarf. Who in the hell is the White Sorceress?
Talk to Vyman again. What are each of their order's disciplines? What links go with what field? What metal are those links made out of? How significant is the mastery of a subject for an Archmaester? Will I need to invite any additional world experts into my ideas or go them alone? I don't want to repeat something already invented, if it's avoidable.
Build a glass works
Make friends with the church.
Rubber trees, Coffee, Chocolate, Potatoes, Tomatoes, Chili Peppers, where are the other new world crops? (Why do they have tiny eared corn, gourds, and beans but not the others?)
Chemistry:
What this world knows about:
Copper, Lead, Gold, Silver, Platinum, Iron, Carbon, Tin, Sulfur, Mercury, Arsenic, Antimony
They have Brass which requires Zinc. Does someone know about Zinc or just Zinc ores?
Periodic Table [1]:
1 Hydrogen "Obvious"
2 Helium "Obvious" (noble gas)
3 Lithium "Mental Illness medicine"
4 or 5 Boron "It's in Borax Washing detergent stuff"
6 Carbon "Obvious"
7 Nitrogen "Obvious"
8 Oxygen "Obvious"
9 Flouride "Flouride in your drinking water"
26 Iron "Obvious"
Copper "Obvious"
Nickel "Obvious"
Zinc "Obvious"
Arsenic "Rat poison"
Platinum "Obvious"
Gold "Obvious"
Mercury "Obvious"
Lead "Obvious"
Sulfur "Obvious"
Silver "Obvious"
Tin "Obvious"
Antimony "That stuff they made cosmetics with in ancient Egypt"
Neon "Neon Signs" (noble gas)
Krypton "Superman's home planet" (noble gas)
Sodium "Obvious/salt"
Magnesium "Flares"
Aluminum "Obvious"
Silicon "Sand, computer chips"
Phosphorus "Glow in the dark stuff , fertilizer, Wily-Pete"
Chlorine "Obvious/Salt"
Potassium "Biochem stuff"
Calcium "Milk does a body good"
Titanium "The super strong metal"
Chrome "Chrome, It's an element right?"
Maganese "That other one that gets confused with Magnesium a lot"
Cobalt "It's an element right? A metal"
Zircon "Those fake diamonds"
Mollybdium "I had a crush on a girl named Molly in high school"
Palladium "Iron Man Movie"
53 Iodine "In case of Nuclear fallout drink iodine"
Neobibdium "Those super strong Magnets"
Tungsten "Light bulb filaments"
Bismuth "Makes Weird crystals"
Radon "That weird gas people got scared of in the 80's" (noble gas?)
Radium "That stuff that killed Marie Curie"
Uranium "Obvious"
Plutonium "Nukes" (not going to happen so who cares.)"
All the rest above Plutonium don't really matter...
AN: [1] Missing Entries, missing or wrong numbers, being out of order and misspellings are all intentional. As this is what Mike Killian was able to write down purely from memory.
Like
ReplyReport
31
0100010
Jun 15, 2017
New
Add bookmark
View content
Threadmarks !Myranda VIII New
View content
0100010
0100010
Jun 16, 2017
Add bookmark
#65
!Myranda VIII
3rd day, 5th Moon, Long Summer, Short Spring 294 AC
Our fingers ache from so much sewing, and we're running low on parchment too. Several dozen bras (version III) are done of various sizes. We'll be taking those plus undergarments, maxis, some meter bars and tape measures to Gulltown to sell. Half are made of cotton now, the rest linen. We've made lots of contacts with flax farmers in the Vale, and local cloth merchants. Cotton farming is done further south, along the Bay of Crabs. We solved the adjustable strap problems with small copper made buckles and oval rings with rounded edges, dipped in lacquer to make them stiffer and more protected. Underwire is present on the larger ones, so there is much better support that the prior version. The wires are also dipped in lacquer. We hope they won't rust, as this isn't stainless steel wire. Hook and eye closures on the back have the same problem and solution. The cotton garments breathe a lot better than the prior versions as well. Mya and I are turning heads. We can use the same basic strap pattern for all sizes, rather than a unique one per bra. It also lets us attach the straps without them being overly fixed in place by stitching, so a bit more flexibility is obtained. This is the last design for now. A better design needs stronger stitching, which needs a sewing machine. Foam padding and elastic are the other improvements we can think of, but that won't be around for who knows how long if ever.
We also made our first toothbrush a few days ago, we didn't actually know what toothbrush bristles are made of. It's probably something synthetic which we can't recreate. We knew we'd have to use animal hair or whiskers. We experimented with various animal hairs first, they're not stiff enough. Whiskers are the way to go. We ended up selecting pig bristles glued into a brush carved in wood and ivory. I really balked at the idea of putting pig bristles in my mouth, even if that had been sterilized, but there wasn't much choice if this was what I wanted. For handles, plain wood designs will probably do for the small folk and ornate ivory for the richer folk. We even had the wood carver make set of 'fake teeth' to test with. This got me thinking about dentures and dentistry in general. Not our forte though, but we made a note of it. We also discovered that silk thread is strong enough to use as dental floss. We'll buy more in Gulltown.
Toothpaste so far isn't much of a paste, just a powder made from chalk, mint oil, and baking soda (or washing soda) we heard about and visited a nearby local 'Natron' deposit and we were able to determine it was either Sodium Carbonate or Bicarbonate, to the best of our knowledge. Also it has been used for cooking in the local area for several generations without any known issues so I think it's safe.
We only have one pair of fulcrum scissors made, we requested Brynn to make a second pair. The wood worker will do the handles again. We'll take it with us along with my design instructions, but it's not for sale. We need to find some cheaper smiths that can work faster. Kent and Brynn both thought we were a bit crazy when we asked if their fires could get hot enough to melt iron and pour it into a mold like softer metals. We hope we can find someone with more knowledge in Gulltown.
Albar is well enough to oversee the GotM while were out. Nestor and a couple guards, Ser Talo Ruthermont and Rudy one of the guardsmen at the GotM, and a few other I don't know the names of, are going with us, as is Mya, Septa Ana and Sylla. I am bringing Sylla along to double check any herbs and medicines I plan to buy in the city to base a supply stock from. Neither she nor Mya have been to a large city before.
Our route is fairly standard, though since were bringing a couple pack horses along it will be a bit slower than usual. We'll ride out for a day to one of the local villages near the GotM, it's not far from Yerund's cabin, and we plan to revisit with her, where we'll get a broader list of medicines and plants to look out for. From there we'll reach Lakeshore and stay the night and take the ferry boat across the lake to Iron Oaks, and stay the night there again. Then it's probably four days on the road through the Vale of Arryn, either camping or imposing on the home of some small folk, for three nights before getting to Old Anchor. We'll spent the night and take a galley to Runestone in the next morning, leaving our horses there for the return trip. Sailing (or rowing) across the inlet will take just less than a day so we'll spend the next night with our cousins the Royce's of Runestone. A wagon or some borrowed horses from the Royce's will get us to Gulltown in less than a day. We'll spend however long we need to in Gulltown and then head back the way we came.
5th day, 5th Moon, Long Summer, Short Spring 294 AC
Spending the night in Lakeshore now, we'll take the ferry tomorrow. The ferry is a bit expensive, especially with the horses in tow, but it's that or ride the long way around the lake. The lake is calm and shallow enough that the tall horses, unburdened, can part swim but mostly walk with their heads still just above the water. They could probably build a bridge, or maybe they can't without better tech. We recall an island in the lake the ferry passes, too small anyone to live on, but probably large enough to support the ends of two bridge spans.
We've become much better known in the villages on this side of the lake, for our healing skills that is. Nestor is beginning to wonder now where this interest and skill came from, though he knows we had been reading Maester Coleman's books. We're not sure if Septa Ana is a help or a hindrance in this regard. More than once she has openly said, to anyone who could hear, that we must have a divinely blessed gift for healing. She continues to encourage it, thinks we'll make an excellent Septa one day. Ana is nice and sweet, she means well, but is a bit of a ditz. I'm not opposed to working with the church here, preferably to my advantage somehow. However my atheism and Myranda's faith has caused us frequent arguments. Yet in a bit of an opposite view, becoming a Septa might let me avoid getting married off to someone I don't want. Myranda, while faithful of the seven, doesn't actually want to do that because it would mean giving up sex.
We've already mostly given up sex for the last six months
And you promised to actually respect your year of mourning. If your father has reason to think otherwise, he'll start husband shopping, and I don't like the prospects that have been rumored.
Well as to healing services, word has spread enough to create a demand. While I want to help, trying to run a potential business at the same time as well as introduce innovations creates time constraints. Nor can we be everywhere at once. Expanding in areas of healthcare will require a dedicated set of helpers, and enough time from me to teach them. Septa Ana and Sylla is a good start for now. One thing though that has us worried is, resistance to some of my unorthodox methods and ideas, and the knowledge that we've been consorting with woods-witches. The last thing we'd need is to end up getting burned as a witch, though as far as we know, things like that don't much occur. Still though, it's 'not much', not, 'not ever'.
6th day, 5th Moon, Long Summer, Short Spring 296 AC
Lady Waynwood was setting a modest table, it was no grand welcoming feast, but wasn't really expected to be either. Regular trips through Iron Oaks would have made something such as that improbable anyway. We were in the 'sitting room', awaiting invitation to take our seats as the servants prepared the meal and the table.
I hate that Mya and Sylla were requested to wait elsewhere and eat with the servants.
As do I, but it is the way it is done, Mya cannot even attend our own dinners at home when we host other Lord's as guests.
It's rude and wrong, why is Septa Ana invited again?
Ana is the youngest daughter of Lord Donniger, so a noble by birth…
"Myranda?" Nestor asked, breaking our inner discussion.
"Yes, papa" we responded.
"I'd like you to meet and converse with young Harold Hardyng, should sickly Robert die without issue, he would become Lord Arryn's heir, and you are of a close age."
"I know who he is papa, we met as children, and last I saw him in passing when passing through on the way to Newkeep to marry Lord Hersy. You said I'd have my full mourning period before you'd plan any betrothals," we whispered.
"Aye, I did, but it is no reason to not begin introductions." Nestor whispered in reply before speaking louder. "Harold, you have met my daughter Lady Myranda, the Dowager Lady Hersy?" he asked, prompting young Harry to walk across the room."
"Aye as children, but she has become a lovely woman," Harry said.
Stop blushing. Myranda offered her hand, and did a courtesy as Harry took it.
"A pleasure" Myranda said with a smile. I pulled our hand back away before Harry had a chance to kiss it, and relaxed our expression to a more neutral tone.
Not fair, he has gotten cuter and taller since I last saw him
What's wrong with you he's only 14! Don't confuse or lead the boy on.
And *I* am only 15, not 35. Plus reverse the gender roles and that would have been considered pretty normal for the high school you went to.
Um no, not at that age, that's barely out of junior high…
"M'Lady?" Harry asked.
"Oh I do apologize; my thoughts were in another place." Myranda recovered, smile beaming again.
"I was saying you looked lovely, and much leaner since I saw you last. What distracts your attention so?"
"Food, I'm famished, is dinner ready soon?" I cut Myranda off and changed the subject.
Fortunately it was indeed ready, as a servant entered and announced all was ready.
You are one to talk, telling me not to confuse the boy Maybe we should let go of his hand Myranda spoke internally to me as I realized the confused Harold was still holding our hand.
Did that servant just glare at us?
We shuffled into the dining room; Myranda thwarted my attempt to put Septa Ana in between Harry and ourselves. We made awkward disjoined small talk, while Nestor spoke with the Lord and Lady Waynwood. Fortunately Septa Ana was excessively talkative, and also embarrassingly praising my healing skills.
Yes the servant is definitely glaring at us.
Cissy is her name, overheard Lady Waynwood addressing her. Nestor is hinting at future betrothal possibilities with our hosts.
It is to be expected.
Some two awkward hours later, dinner ended. Myranda gave away one of our bra's to Lady Waynwood as a courtesy after she seemed to balk at the price. Though I added that the implication would be in thanks to past, present and future stays at Iron Oaks, since we intended on perhaps many more return trips to Gulltown.
Once I actually measured Lady Waynwood upstairs for a fitting, and she put the garments on, did she become much more receptive to them.
"This is absolutely marvelous." Lady Waynwood said, as Cissy helped her back into her formal clothing. Cissy kept giving us odd looks as she helped the lady of the house, yet showed an obvious curiosity in the bras.
"It needs to be very gently washed. You do not want the wires, buckles or clasps to lose their shape. Make sure it is dried thoroughly as well. I'll make note of your measurements, in case you want to order some in the future anyway."
Hehe, we have also invented men fumbling with the clasps on the back.
Yes, right….
"Practice undoing the closure at the back several times. If your husband enjoys undressing you he might fumble a bit, you might need to show him."
"Myranda! Such thoughts, are" Lady Waynwood said, startled.
HAHA, I cannot believe you just said that.
Why? You didn't even stop me. "Are perfectly normal, and to be expected." I finished her sentence for her. "Besides, wait till he gets a look at you. In fact, if you do not mind, may I make a few other suggestions?"
Another hour and several confidence building compliments later, Lady Waynwood had a new hairstyle, a change of dress and some proto-lipstick from some red fruit juices. It wasn't true cosmetics, yet. Will put some more thought into those later. When we went back downstairs, our guess had proved very accurate, as Lord Waynwood's eyes nearly popped out of his head and they retired for the night early.
Nestor had gone out to check on the men and our horses in preparation for leaving tomorrow, and we finally got a chance to meet back up with Mya.
"Harry is a handsome lad, I heard your father might be trying to consider a possible betrothal." Mya said to me once we meet back up in private.
"I hope not" we replied. "I'd rather give being an independent woman a shot for as long as possible."
"Really? I mean, I hope all the best outcomes for trade in Gulltown, but do you really hope to continue that for so long? It is a bit unheard of."
"And why should it be unheard of? You're a strong woman who can hunt and trap, have made money off of it too, and are earning an honest wage from helping me as well. I'm not saying you or even I can't find someone to marry and have a family with one day, but must that also come with becoming entirely dependent on them?"
"I suppose not. Perhaps you are better off without Harry, gossip among the servants is that he has slept with Cissy the maid. Though I do not think a man could be found that does not do that, unless it is a Septon, and sometimes not even then."
Jesus and Harry's only 14? What the hell is wrong with you people?
Someone is outside the door
"That would also explain the looks we got at dinner" we said as we moved to open the door suddenly. Cissy stood on the other side, startled.
"Oh…" Cissy flustered, "M'Lady, I was just going to see if there was anything you needed," she stammered.
Yeah, sure you were. Yeah sure you were, we thought in unison. "Oh please, come in." Cissy was hesitant. "You don't need to be scared of us. What is it you really want?" we asked.
Cissy stared at the floor, before reluctantly looking up, "I…. Do you really not want to be betrothed to Harry?"
"No I don't. Not now or ever, nor to anyone, at least not anytime soon. I'm still in a year of mourning for the death of my late husband. Though I wish it was, I can't say it will be up to me regarding who I'll marry, though I'll aim to try." She is still showing much nervousness, the poor girl looks to only be about sixteen, she would have reason to be nervous over a lot of things. "But there is something else isn't there?"
"I heard you are a healer, a woods-witch, have you a love potion? …I do not want to lose young Harry, he…"
There I see, so do I, hidden well behind her loose clothes. We placed both hands on her stomach, and she jumped back a bit, startled, "because you carry his child? How old are you and how long since you have bled? " Cissy and Mya both looked shocked at our observation.
"14 years M'Lady, and near two moons, I have nay told anyone, how did you know?"
Fourteen also, what the holy fuck? We chose not to answer her question. "Do you want to keep it?" She is young; pregnancy at that age could kill her. For not professing to believe in the Gods you invoke their names much, even yours. Pregnancy could kill at any age here, yet she is tall and strong with wide hips; she may have an easier time than many women who are older, and we could help.
Cissy didn't speak right away, hesitant as she thought it over. "Can you see the future? Will bearing the child endear him more to me?"
"No one needs to see the future to know what will happen. Lady Anya will never allow her ward to marry a common girl, even if he got her pregnant; in your heart you know that." Oh poor Mya I see hurt in her eyes, she must be thinking of her situation with Mychal. "And the child will be a bastard" we said reluctantly, looking over to Mya. "That will not be an easy life for him or her, but that does not mean that it will not be one of worth, assuming you do all you can to love and care for your child."
"But what will happen? What would you see?" Cissy asked, not wanting to make the decision herself.
"Sit, give me your hands" Myranda said. This might be an unwise idea; Mya is right in the room too.
It is just a reassurance to her; straighten her out a little like you did to me Myranda traced our fingers along her palms, studying them, giving Cissy a chance to calm herself.
"Your paths are to keep the child or not, but neither leads to the continued relationship with Harry that you desire. He will find some other woman to chase, as men are wont to do, whether he becomes disinterested because of how your body will change because of pregnancy, or circumstance as Lady Waynwood seeks a match for him among noble ladies."
"And the child?"
She wants to keep it, or she would not have asked, give her some hope.
"Strong, healthy, a girl I think, but sometimes the Mother surprises us. We will aid you when the time comes." Yes, I suppose we have to now. "But you must do as we instruct. While you are with child, drink clear, clean boiled water or weak wine. Wash and scrub your hands thoroughly before every meal and after you pass water or waste. The same for any food you prepare even if not for yourself." Vitamins; "Wash and eat plenty of fresh, brightly colored fruits and vegetables, to help the child grow strong within you. Meats or preferably oily fish as well," no mercury issues here. "However, make sure it is fresh, and well cooked. Consume nothing raw, not even eggs or milk."
We talked for a bit longer. Cissy could not read or write, so writing down the instructions would not have helped. We made her repeat them back to us several times, and promised to check in on her when we returned. Finally we sent her on her way. Mya had remained silent the whole time, but had watched and listened intently.
Mya remained silent for a while longer, as she helped us prepare for bed in the Waynwood's guest room. Then she finally spoke up.
"What have you been learning from that woods-witch Yerund and the Maester's books?" Mya asked.
We didn't answer at first. We didn't know what to say. Then we didn't have to as Septa Ana came in and broke the tension in the room, by babbling. It was at least comforting to know that she reported that Sylla was doing well in her studies. Mya slinked out the door before I could say anything, to head down to a servant's quarter rooms where Sylla and she would be sleeping. I still thought that was unfair, and Myranda was finally beginning to agree with me.
Like
ReplyReport
31
0100010
Jun 16, 2017
New
Add bookmark
View content
Threadmarks !Edmure IX New
View content
0100010
0100010
Jun 17, 2017
Add bookmark
#69
!Edmure IX
14th day, 5th Moon, Long Summer, Short Spring 294 AC
I'm currently in an inn at Fairmarket, me and only few of the posse, Trystan Rygar, Wyndel Rivers, and Kirth Vance, are here as additional guards. Elmwood, Delp, Long Lew and Ser Robin Rygar, Trystan's father are also here as additional guards, at Hoster's insistence. I said I'd be fine, but as his only heir he isn't taking any chances while I am 'traveling about on my fool's errands'. Ser Robin has kept quite an eye on me too this whole trip. I think the real reason Hoster sent him was to watch me and know what I am up to, not merely act as a guard.
Anyway, I'm up here to get various supplies in a larger town that was at least somewhat near Riverrun. Lord Harroway's Town could have been a second choice to visit but it is further away and I didn't want to spend the extra time traveling. Anything larger beyond those two would be King's Landing which would be a much bigger planned trip, something I do plan on but not until I've got some casks of Brandy and stacks of paper to sell.
Aside from supplies I came here to talk to an ink-maker and a goldsmith. Both meetings went well. I am going to outsource my fountain pen design. I'm trying to convince them to move to Riverrun, the Ink-maker seems inclined but was worried about how much business he would get there. I said he wouldn't have to worry about that, because I alone with my projects could probably keep him in business for years. Maester Coleman was already complaining about low supplies of ink, and while he can in fact make some, I wanted to find someone who made that their primary job in life. The ink maker's name is Jory, again no surname. That can be sorted out if he moves to Riverrun with his betrothed. If he gets a commission from me, he'll probably marry her since then he could afford it.
I had always envision medieval peasantry as marrying young, probably from misinformation, but here it's quite the opposite as they logically wait until such a step can be afforded.
What is that awful music?
It's an inn with a tavern downstairs, people play music here, settle down.
Well, anyway I recall that some of the fountain pens I've owned in the past were gold-iridium tipped.
Damn Iridium, need to add that to my periodic table list.
Note to self: add Iridium to list of elements. It is a platinum group metal. Platinum is known of, maybe that can be worked into the pen nib designs? Don't think anyone in the here and now can actually smelt it though; its required temperature might be too high. Then again don't the Maester's have platinum links? Even if not, maybe my blast furnace can get hot enough to smelt Platinum once it is complete.
The goldsmith is less inclined to move. He is pretty well established here in Fairmarket (the only one in town actually), although he is intrigued by my idea. I wonder sometimes if design theft is going to be a problem, though he would be pretty stupid to consider stealing ideas from his future high lord.
Oh it sounds like that damnable song
Would you quit complaining and let me finish? I let you have some drinks and bit of a show earlier.
That was only teasing to not get to follow through with sealing the deal. If Kirth's brothers had not gone home before this trip, they would have totally 'called you out' on it.
On that note, I offered Kirth a more permanent type of job helping me with projects. He's a good kid, smart, but not book smart, so he won't be a Maester like his younger brother Jon. He might become a Knight someday, but it probably won't be by winning any tourneys. As the second to youngest son among five he has very limited prospects. I'd hate to see his potential get carted off to The Wall. His brothers left to head back to Atranta for a while, but they'll be back for my Name Day celebration on the Solstice.
By the time I get back, Vyman should have finished assessing Derrick in regards to giving an opinion on if he could pass muster in Oldtown studying to be a Maester. If he gives the okay, I am going to sponsor him, even if I have to do it myself instead of Hoster. Hopefully though, he'll be okay with it. My real reasons though, apart from needing more learned men with at least some science background, is to get the scoop on how this society of proto-scientists actually do things. If I sponsor Derrick, part of the agreement I plan with him is to get detailed reports on everything going on during his studies.
As for my projects, my seed drill is completed; the crops at the demo farm are all planted. Work is progressing on the blast furnace and water wheel as I've been traveling. There wasn't much for me to do at the demo farm except let the plants grow, and let workers tend to things as needed.
The casks from Lolliston arrived before I left, sooner than expected, Fat Bruno is manning the still there and filling them up as quick as he can to start them into the aging process. Bruno the old brewer has become quite enthusiastic about the still. So has Olyver the smith. I daresay I have effectively won them over to my ideas. Utherydes and Vyman remain harder sells; and Hoster is as stubborn as ever. Relations and arguments there haven't improved, but I think I have prevented them from getting worse too.
I won about 30 stags in silver from gambling today, it pays to actually know about probabilities. I stopped though before pressing my luck, they were just existing knuckle-bone dice, which aren't exactly factory made. It just reminded me again about making playing cards when the paper making gets good enough. Also, gambling brackets, I think I want to hold at the minimum a squire's tourney during my Name Day, maybe something more depending on the costs. I want to find a way to make my party profitable rather than become an expense.
Fairmarket is located on the banks of the Blue Fork. While here, and during the trip, as we traveled along the Red Fork, I've been assessing and taking notes on the play and flow of the rivers, their fords, channels and flood plains. It is a very rough map, but it gives me ideas to start with in terms of river and flood control projects. Note to Self: invent proper surveying equipment.
Again with the music? Why do you care what's going on, why are you so angry?
It is him I know it is.
Ack, don't just stand up on me while I'm trying to write, damn it. And no you're not making us go downstairs while I've got papers in English unsecured on this desk. So stop fighting me and help put them away then we'll go downstairs.
We heard the laughter get louder as we went toward the stairs, the pluck of a wood-harp and a man singing above the jeering crown of evening patrons.
It is him and that damnable song.
The crown began to quiet down as they noticed my entrance. Elwood and Delp and Long Lew sat at a table near the make shift stage. Ser Robin and Trystan and Wyndel were probably somewhere nearby. Soon it became deathly silent save for the minstrel, who started to quiet his song as he began to notice what was going on.
"Hello Tom" we said. "Elmwood, Delp, Long Lew, could you please escort Mr. Sevenstreams outside."
"Oh shit" Tom said before he ran for the door.
It was a fair bit of chaos after that. Tom managed to just barely make it out the door.
Come on you don't really want to string him up do you? What are you going to do if you catch him? I asked, but Edmure's strong emotional state had taken control as he searched about the town.
I will figure that out once I catch him. He was supposed to never play that damnable floppy fish song in the Riverlands again, and those damn guards, nobody bothered to come and tell me he was here?
Maybe they rightly though it was not worth the bother. After all we did tell them we were simply going to bed early and didn't want to be disturbed so I could get some damn writing done. But no, now we are chasing some minstrel through town and it's almost sunset.
I do not care.
You're not even wearing any light armor right now you know? What if he has a knife?
Ha the only thing Tom knows how to wield is his harp.
And apparently his little sword, since your memories say this is what this is really about. He steals some lowborn girl you were going to bed; makes up a song about you and you get all pissed. This is a very stupid grudge that you need to drop.
There he is!
Edmure ran after him again. I saved my energy and relegated myself to just making sure he didn't do anything stupid if he caught up with him. Soon the chase put us and Tom just outside of town. Delp, and Trystan had managed to catch up with us by the time Tom tripped and fell on his ass. We had him surrounded now, Delp and Trystan had their swords drawn, Edmure had pulled out a knife I had forgotten we had on us. Tom seemed to not have anything except his harp and a knapsack. I kept Edmure's hand at bay just in case.
"Go find your father and the others and bring a rope" Edmure said to Trystan. He went without hesitation.
Seriously there is another way. You know I'm not really going to let you go through with this.
"What you want to do with 'im M'Lord?" Delp asked apparent not thinking far enough to realize what get a rope implied.
"Just keep an eye on him, make sure he doesn't do anything stupid." I said to Delp.
Tom was muttering while I argued briefly with Edmure in my head, admittedly not the wisest place to do that.
"Wait what did you just say?" we both asked Tom in unison.
"I said that damnable hill dwarf lied, she said I'd find my way to a fortune in what I assumed was Fairmarket, not that I'd get hanged instead." Tom squealed.
"What dwarf?"
"The hill dwarf, right you hate music, but even you have probably heard the old folksongs.
"The old witch of high heart, once danced among the trees,
But the trees are no more, and all she has are dreams.
A fortune told for those who stay, be they foolish or brave.
A night upon the haunted hill of high heart,
But beware it does not become your grave."
Tome sang the little ditty well enough.. "Yeah, I know it, just wanted to make sure. You talk to her? Reads your fortune does she?" I asked.
"Yes for a song."
"What song?"
"Why do you care?"
"For a man trying not to get hanged, you'd probably want to be a bit more cooperative."
"Old Jenny's song, it's not all that popular, certainly not as popular as Floppy Fish"
I stopped Edmure from going beyond merely a skin prick with the point of his knife into Tom's neck. "You're not really helping yourself right now," we said.
Come on, let's try it, it could be win-win for everyone.
I do not know
"Alright you want a more popular song? Let me make you a deal. The albino dwarf was right; you did meet your fortune here, it's me. But it all depends on what you choose to do." I pulled out the bag of 30 silver I had won gambling, and showed it to Tom.
"Option one, my friends come back with a rope and we hang you from the nearest tree"
"That does nay sound like a good option" Tom said.
"Option two, I let you go if you promise by the Seven, or the old gods or on your mother's grave…"
"My mother's not dead."
"Whatever, I don't care, you make a real oath, that you'll meet me at high heart in a fortnight. You'll convince the ghost up there to have a chat with me, and you sing her a song or whatever, and I'll give you this bag of silver when you do."
"Why would you do that? What would you want to talk to the old hag for?"
"That's not really your concern now is it? You could of course just agree and then never show up. I suppose you can call that option three. But if you do that, I'll just put a price on your head and you'll never be able to stay in the Riverlands again, or possible elsewhere in Westeros."
"Are there any other choices?"
"Why yes, I'm glad you asked. Option four, you meet me at high heart, and I keep my money." Tom grimaced. "Oh, hear me out!" I said smiling. "First you promise never to sing the Floppy Fish song again in your entire life, or teach it to anyone else. Second, you agree to sing at my Name Day party at Riverrun on the Solstice, for free,"
"What? Why would I sing for you? Nobody would believe that."
"You should really let me finish. Third, you write a complimentary, positive song about me instead, and about life in general in the Riverlands and Riverrun. The kind of song that would make people feel as if there was opportunity and fortune to be made there. Fourth, you give me half of all the money you make on the side while there." Tom was about to interrupt again but I shushed him. "Fifth, in exchange for all that, I'll tell you a song, that will be more popular that anything you have ever heard or sung before in your entire life."
"You? Impossible"
"Meet me at high heart before you think it impossible, now unless you'd like to take Option one, I'll have that oath."
"I swear by the Seven that I will meet you at High Heart in a fortnight or may the Stranger take me."
"Good enough now get the hell out of here before I change my mind."
88888888888888888888888888888888888888888
