Lovers' Woes
Twentieth Day of the Eleventh Month 293 AC
There is much you do not yet know about where the Riverlords stand. Deciding to start with those Houses most likely to cause aggravation as well as the first in the ordering of their names you ask the about the current state of the Blackwood-Braken feud. Tom's first words do not fill you with confidence: "Aye, that's quite the story that is..."
To your surprise he does not continue at once, however, and instead Ser Benjicot motions to his young squire to 'fetch Old Ansa so you can hear it right from her'.
Old Ansa, it transpires, had earned her name in full, crooked-backed and white-haired, her skin covered in so many lines and creased as to resemble old parchment, the only thing to distinguish her from the proverbial witch of a thousand cautionary tales is the kindly light in her eyes. Still, a witch she is for certain. The score of small leather pouches hanging at her belt is the sort favored by hedge mages together with the odd mingling of smells that follows her, wildflowers and sulfur, incense and nightshade. She looks at you warily, eyes lingering on the flowing gold of your cloak, though a smile from Tom and an encouragement from Masie is enough to get her to rest easily on one of the stones and begin her tale, at once familiar and strange.
It seems that young Hoster Blackwood, a man grown by the measure of the Seven Kingdoms though only just at six and ten, had taken the blooming of Raventree's godswood as a sign that someone had best look into magic returning in the world and who better than himself? Already of a bookish disposition Hoster turned from the maester's tomes to other stranger studies, more or less with his father's blessings. Lord Tytos Blackwood did not have much use for herb doctors and hedge witches before the Miracle at Raventree, but afterwards he started to show more favor to such folk so long as they swore by the Old Gods.
Ansa had been one such mage, the best of the lot by her own estimation, hence why young Hoster had gravitated to learning more from her than any of the others. However, the boy soon discovered that his gift was not for potion-making and beast-talking like his teacher's, but for divination.
"A chancy thing seeing the future is, it can earn you great wisdom, great heartbreak, all too often both," the old woman sighs. "He had a vision one night when the clouds were low in the sky that if he rode south by High Hearth he'd find answers to the trouble with the tree that had haunted his kin for an age. Maybe the Ghost of High Hearth spoke to him then, I'd not know. I don't truck with her none..."
"What did he find then?" Ser Richard asks, trying to cut to the meat of the mater.
"What is any likely lad to find on a stormy day when the trees creak and moan, fate and lightning hanging in the air?" Ansa replied. "He found a lass, though whether she was the luckiest or unluckiest in all the land between the rivers I couldn't say. Catelyn Bracken she was, got thrown off a horse and twisted her leg you see, and was just waiting for some beastie to wander by and eat her, but it was Hoster that found her, and seeing as she was a pretty enough thing..."
"He figured it was near enough to fate," Tom finishes. "Who could blame him? Surely not the girl from what I heard. They got along real..."
"I see," you cut him off, the first hints of a headache already. "I'm assuming he kept meeting her?"
"Oh aye," the old woman recounts, shaking her head sadly. "He didn't tell me at first where all the interest of working with beasts came from, so they could carry messages between each other, but I found out right quick. It ain't hard to bribe a crow into telling you where it's been. They like to be paid twice, like people that way they are."
"Young Hoster became convinced that the vision that had lead him into the woods that stormy day was not to find answers, but to heal the feud between Blackwood and Bracken," Ser Benjicot takes up the tale.
"By wedding the girl he was sweet on and she on him?" Rina's words are not really a question, though neither her tone nor her face gives any clue of her feelings, though the chill bite in the air around her is sign enough that she is thinking of her own misfortunes chasing love and where they had lead her. "I may not be much for history, but even
I know that's been tried time and again, by kings and high lords yet, but it never took."
"The Maiden gives blindness along with love, dearie, it's kinder that way," Ansa said, then reading the looks of surprise she is given she continues: "Old Gods are good for the wildwood, New Gods for the village square on market day, I keep to both since I
need both."
Reasonable enough, but not what most interests you now. "What happened to Lord Hoster and Lady Catelyn, why are you here?"
"Lord Blackwood found one of her letters about a month back, he took it... about how you imagine he'd do." Ansa shook her head, likely at the follies of the highborn, though she does not say so in present company. "Luckily for me my birds told me what was brewing so I took to my heels before the armsmen could drag me to Raventree Hall. Met us with some clever lads about a week after that."
What do you ask next?
[] Ask more questions about the Bracken Blackwood affair
-[] Write in
[] Move on to rumors about another noble House
-[] Write in
[] Write in
OOC: I know this is a lot for just two Houses, but the Blackwoods and Brakens are important in canon and when I rolled for how much the Lads knew on the matter it came out 122 after bonuses on a d100 so you get an eyewitness account.