Barbara
**Lady Kelsafyr Skagerlly**
**The Vivayn Encampment outside Castle Barrmount, the Iron Plaines**

Kelsafyr allowed herself to enjoy the momentary satisfaction that came with Mallsrek's scolding. It was just enough of a barrier to cushion her from the pointed words of her father, to whom she responded by gently dipping her head, a placid smile adorning her lips. She eyed Mallsrek as she walked around him to lower herself into one of the seats that had been pulled out for her, a vicious glower that contorted her beautiful features into something unnaturally sinister and ugly. Her upper lip curled into a grimace and she rested one lip over the other, inhaling a sharp breath.

She remained quiet for the majority of her fathers speaking, dipping her head in limited understanding when it called for her to signify she was paying attention. She cared very little for finding a bride for the sea king, the entirety of this visit had been a last minute ploy in being reunited with her brother. She was almost surprised her father had fallen for it .. Almost. She raised a hand and pointed an index finger to rest beneath her chin, her bright blue eyes idly surveying the room as talk continued. 

"The people won't just accept anyone, oh no... So that's why Cyroven writes ta me," Uttered her father. This caught her attention, and so she quickly shifted her gaze back to meet Radgore's. She felt her brother reach for her hand, but her own remained limp and unmoving as she stared straight ahead of her, holding her breath. Her father hadn't told her of this, surely he would have when they were travelling to meet the rest of their kin? Why would he wait to surprise her with something this important? He was a cruel man. He must be playing some kind of trick, some kind of horrible joke ... -

".... - The whore of Astoria, Anyanka Durkhan." 

She released her breath, her face having turned bright red. She cleared her throat, disguising her nervousness with a cough, now tightly clutching the hand of Shaydrin beneath the table. She composed herself, and a few more moments of discussion passed by before she herself decided to speak once again.

"He wants you to kidnap her," She stated, as if it were a normal occurrence. "I would argue the two of you would stand out like a sore thumb in a ball of southerners, though. I imagine she'll be at the festival I've been hearing so much about, correct?" Inquired Kelsafyr toward her father, a groomed brow rising into an arch.

"You should let me go with them, if only so they don't make an utter fool of themselves with their lack of etiquette. Besides .. I hear that their Pirate King has quite the menagerie of wives, and they're all exceptionally beautiful.." She began, before pausing, and quickly adding on, "And their king, too, of course. I hear he's handsome too."
Ramiro
__Ser Shaydrin Skagerlly__
__The Vivayn encampment outside Castle Barrmount, the Iron Plaines__

"Ugh, Kelsa!" He chided, flicking a hand. "Quiet about your 'menageries' for a moment!"

Much as he adored her, her words did cut a bit deep just then. Shaydrin *Did* Have etiquette, far more than any of the peoning dogs and doltish man-oxes all around the table. And he was confident that he could get something of a Southern look, even if his skin would make him shine like a pearly white pebble amid swarthier sands. Through all of that, however, he could see what she was trying to do. He *Wanted* Her to come with him, to stay by his side, near his blade. It had been trying enough to venture this far without her, but to the *South*? And still, he couldn't get over the absurdity of it all.

"You want us ta snatch a queen for David-fockin-Brass' bed?" He asked his father, already breaking into a bitter, uneasy laugh. "And I suppose you'd like Mallsrek to minister their union? Is Lord Nathaniel just running around stealin *Brides* For his allies now? Father, you *Cannot* Be serious."
Desirae
**Lord Arko Skagerlly** 
**The Vivayn encampment outside Castle Barrmount, the Iron Plaines**

"Father, you *Cannot* Be serious." Shaydrin yelled. Arko just chuckled at that reaction from him, Shaydrin was the one who was always calm, composed and dignified, watching him squirm so uncomfortably was probably better than any clown dance on his head. 

"Tell me Shaydrin... How many times have you seen our father joke about these kinds of things?" Arko pointed out while taking a comfortable seat on one of the chairs laid down, slightly sliding down to make himself more comfortable in the armour, his longsword was digging into his abdomen, making him more uncomfortable, but Arko was used to the lack of these comforts, in fact he had become dependant on them. 

He finally spoke out again - "If our father and not to mention Lord Vivayn says we need to bring them the whore then we bring them the whore served on a *Silver plate*. What about that is so alien to you?"