The Lay of the Land
Dragonsfall Weyr
Amber Hills Hold
Vintner Hall
Healer Hall
Hidden Meadows
Dolphin Cove Weyr
Dolphin Hall
Emerald Falls Hold
Harper Hall
Printer Hall
Green Valley Hold
Leeward Lagoon Hold
Barrier Lake Weyr
Sunstone Seahold
Citrus Bay Hold
Writers: Suzee, Yvonne
Date Posted: 24th July 2015
Characters: Bryvin, Olov
Description: Bryvin and Olov talk about opportunities at Sunstone Seahold
Location: Sunstone Seahold
Date: month 13, day 2 of Turn 7
Notes: Mentioned: Peidre, Eirock
The inn at the edge of the sea was comfortable enough. Large fire to drive off the damp, rushes on the floor to soak up the spills, and free-flowing ale that loosened the tongues of the sailors around him. Olov sat with his back to the wall, a mug of ale in one hand as he studied his surroundings. It wasn't the first time he'd stayed at an inn or waystation, but it was the first at a Lord Holder's behest.
Lord Holder. How Bryvin had managed _that_ particular trick was a mystery. Olov hid a smile as he lifted the mug to his lips. It sounded like something out of a Harper's tale: 'The Man Who Came From Nothing,' or 'The Holdless Lord Holder.' Bryvin was lucky beyond belief-- or maybe not. Morin had died in an accident, after all, and accidents were easy enough to fake when you knew the right people.
The man who entered the inn didn't look like a Lord but like another traveler from the sea. Strange faces stood out to people in smaller holds like a glow in the darkness of a vast cavern. But add a slouchy hat and nondescript leather raincoat over equally work roughened clothing, and the brim could duck to cover that immediate recognition. Of course the small brown fire lizard might be remarkable but Bryvin had spent many turns learning to be invisible when he chose.
Clothing notwithstanding, he was equally certain Olov would have no trouble reading him so he slid into the seat without preamble. "Evenin'," he nodded to the maid. "Beer," he said when she asked. When she'd turned away and wandered off to another customer he leaned easily on the table. "Welcome to Sunstone."
Olov nodded. "Pretty nice place being built here," he said noncommittally. "Lots of... buildings."
"And opportunity if one knows where to look," a small smile curved Bryvin's lips. Olov wasn't slow by half.
"Mmm." The big man took a long, slow drink from his mug. The ale wasn't good, but it was a sight better than the moonshine he usually had. "I suppose there is. If you know where to look. Care to point me in a direction, friend?"
"I hear the Steward will be hiring some more guards. Problems with felines hereabouts." He rubbed his sleeve across his face as the girl delivered his beer. "Leastways it's a bed and food without hard work attached. Just need to know a sword."
A bed without hard work, but all sorts of other constraints instead. Living Holdless for so long meant that Olov could do what he wanted, when he wanted, and he didn't much like it when people tried to tell him otherwise. Then again, the opportunity to be _from_ somewhere again had its benefits. "Felines, hmm. They can be a problem. What's the Steward's story?" Olov asked, suddenly changing topics. He and Piedre had discussed Eirock, but although Piedre knew of the Steward, neither really knew how he'd ended up at Sunstone Seahold with Bryvin. "His _real_ story," he added, a little more quietly.
"I can give you some highlights," Bryvin said. "But the majority of it would be his to tell when the time is right. "You know the Sea Wife?" The ship had been up and down the coast and a force to be reckoned with on the seaways for quite some time.
Olov nodded. That wasn't news-- Piedre had already outed Eirock as Trygve's nephew.
"We served together on a very similar ship some turns back before I hooked up with Morin. Let's just say I saved his life and he owes me a debt." He quaffed his beer and wiped the foam on the dirty sleeve. "He has skills and is not squeamish, but I'd like to compartmentalize some things." He kept his voice low.
"Fair enough." There was a small pause as Olov mulled over the Lord Holder's words. Hopefully Bryvin had enough to compartmentalize that it would keep Piedre occupied. The other man could get restless, and
nothing went well when Piedre got restless. Still... that was a conversation for another day, should it become an issue. Until then, the Holdless man was content to take advantage of all that a major Hold had to offer. Olov picked up his mug. "Out of curiosity, did Morin drown?"
"Yes," Bryvin answered with a twist of his lips. "It was completely accidental. A freak squall threw his ship onto the rocks. No one saw it coming." Which was the honest truth. Of course Bryvin hadn't wasted a moment after Morin's passing to prepare the needed documents for the Conclave to allow him to take Hold. "Right place right time," he added.
"You always were lucky," Olov murmured.
"Well except for that one time..." He grinned at Olov. The man had been one of the group who had conscripted him away from Elarie so many turns ago. It had been a rough awakening for him and he knew the business end of the big man's fists.
"Naw. You were still lucky." Olov grinned back, revealing white teeth in his black beard. "You could have been dead."
Bryvin's head went back with a huge laugh and he thumped his tankard down on the table. "More than once my friend," he nodded.
Last updated on the August 6th 2015