The hearty Lord sits solemnly in his council chamber, awaiting for the arrival of his advisers. Soon the sound of a large wooden door opening fills the room with a creek, a telltale sign a meeting was about to take place.
"Good advisers of my court, what is there to be reported?"
The court fills will bustle in almost an instant, men speaking their part in the realm and relaying the information to the good Lord. Peter, being oh so attuned, listens attentively to his men- knowing that each piece of information given to him could mean life or death of his house. However- they finally reach the Marshal of the lands, speaking out in a loud and boisterous tone.
"Good Lord Peter, these Dornish refugees seek asylum in our lands- yet do not wish to pay the price of such hospitality! We should march from Blackhaven at once and deal with these fookin' squatters!" Tangred then slams his gauntleted fist down onto the table, a small cheer erupts from the court in acceptance for the plan. "Let us meet them at the Bone Way and show them real Stormlander steel!" Before another cheer can erupt, the Lord slowly raises his hand to halt the banter. It falls completely silent.
"Good Tangred, you have always been a man of wise words and I heed your advice like I would that of my own brother. However- these are matters that are not for us to decide. Our Lord Helton shall be the one who will decide when we march as this involves matters that can send waves throughout the entirety of the Stormlands- however. Do not fret."
The court leans in, waiting to hear the words of the Lord- the one who had lead to victory so man times before.
"We will be ready."
The court erupts in a feverish cheer, ripe with excitement to stain their blades in the blood of those who dare wish to cross the Bone Way.
- Blackhaven: 2k Stormswords | 500 Heavy Calvary | 3k Light Infantry | 1k Light Calvary | 7k total | Headed by: Lord Peter
- Summerhall: 2,250 Stormswords | 0 Heavy Calvary | 1k Light Infantry | 625 Light Calvary | Headed by: Bannerlord Tangred
After matters of logisitics are finished, Lord Peter's son slithers past the crowd of apparent warriors, slamming his ledger hard upon the table before them. "Alright father... what is it this time?" The boy says with the tone equal to that of an annoyed child.
The lord, rolling his eyes at the childish actions of his sons, begins to speak: "I want ye' to take 1000 coin from the treasury and find meh' the best damned stone masons in all ov' the Stormlands to bolster up the defenses ov' our fair seat of Blackhaven."
With no more words exchanged, the son quickly slams the book up and makes his way out of the room. Only nodding to his father before leaving.
Peter slowly leans back into his chair, his court silent and awkward after the appearance of his youngest son... as most visits tend to end when he makes himself seen.
"Sometimes I wondah', how did I... make that! Bah- but I still love'um!"
The court quickly turns from a scene of silence to laughter, this wasn't something strange at the Dondarrion hold of Blackhaven- it was just another day.
Spending:
Troop Upkeep
Blackhaven: 225 gold
Summerhall: 150 gold
Total cost: 375 [Paid]
Construction:
Blackhaven: 1000 gold [paid]
Remaining coffers: 400 gold