Braehn Elendil An'Hiraeth

*Torrhen steps strides out of the keep of Winterhall, approaching the main gate. "Raise the portcullis!" He ordered, as the guard inside the gatehouse went to work raising the gate. Slowly the Steel bars creaked, raising upwards.

"What do you want." Torrhen commanded, raising a torch to light the dark night. Behind him stood four guardsmen, two with crossbows, two with spears. "Torrhen peered at the man atop the horse. "Answer me."

*Torrhen looks out at his city from the balcony of his castle, smiling. "Perhaps things were going to be calm today. Perhaps there would be peace for one day?" He thought, smoking his pipe contently. He looks down and see's a man garbed in a White Rose surcoat pinning a piece of parchment to the city bulletin board.

"Hm...Altain, Clarance, go question the Rose down there and find out what he's doing." He says, turning to his two warden's. Their new tartan's were still crisp and clean, yet to see battle.

"Aye Your Grace." They said in unison, leaving the office. Torrhen looks out again on the balcony, watching the Bloody Rose. As the Warden's approach, they strike up a chat with him. Their chatting turns into yelling, though their words are muffled by the wind of the Western tundra's.

As the Rose storms off, several scrolls appear to stick out from his bag. The guards tear down the few notices posted and return to the keep. Altain is the first to reach the Solar of the Castle. "Your Grace, it seems those Rose don't like the Elves." He says, holding out the parchment, now wrinkled and torn.

"Thank you men, head to the Hall and get some mead." He says, nodding to the men. As they leave, he turns his gaze to the parchment, squinting his eyes. As he reads, his face turns to a grimace. As he finishes, he crumples the paper, throwing it to the fire pit.

"I swear those Rose's are getting to big for their own good, they are cocky bastards that will bring their own undoing soon...The Elven folk of Oren are loyal, and this threatens the peace of the empire." As Torrhen sighs, he slumps into his chair by his desk. As he brings his hand to his chin, thinking to himself "I expect riots...blood and destruction..." He sighs, again, looking out the window. "Yet it wont happen in my city..."

*Torrhen walks into town, adorned in his new tartan fur trimmed robes. His beard is long and thick now, his brown curled hair down to his shoulders now. He sees the peculiar Northmen walking towards the Arethor keep. Curious, he follows them, trying to find out their intent.

As they reach the throne room, Torrhen moves to his proper place there and watches the men, listening to their words. He thinks to himself "These are men of the true North...I can hear it in their voices, and see it in their eyes, perhaps they will be happier with their own kind out west..."

*Artorus raises an eyebrow, chuckling. "Attack on Stoneguard? Oh someone do tell me when I attacked your castle. There were no skirmishes or battles between us, and I am thankful for that. Also, I believe you deserve a second chance, do you wish me to recant this Jon? I hope not, so do not insult me."

*Artorus looks down at Norsem, grimacing. He says in a cold, gruff tone."Your actions and words were treasonous and destructive to the emperor's peace. You were fully intent on declaring war and bringing chaos to the Westfall, as well as the empire. You have gotten what ye have deserved, Lord Norsem."

He sighs and lowers his shoulders "Be that as it may, all men must receive second chances, to prove that they have learned. I believe Jon should receive a chance to redeem himself, yet only one..."

*Artorus leads Kais away from the others and proceeds to whisper to him.