Nettlebank, Orkmont, seat of the Orkwoods

[Dirty Chai]

NETTLEBANK

Nettlebank sits on eastern Orkmont, nestled on a perch overlooking the seawater between Orkmont and Harlaw. All around sits the Orkwood, a primeval pine forest protected by its eponymous masters, the Orkwood clan. The fort itself sits above a small enclosed cove where the ships are anchored at a set of docks. The small inlet itself narrows past the docks into a small gorge of a fjord, and the entrance into Nettlebank's wooden walls lies across a bridge crossing the gorge.A small village known as Falkeshall sits in the cove, where some fishermen live, along with some families of the Orkwood's retainers.

Nettlebank is a wooden place, re-thatched every year. An old stone tower sits in the middle of fort, though its entire top half is collapsed.
The other stone tower, the keep, has a wooden top to it, where birds roost. Two layers of palisades surround the steep hilltop.

Chieftain: Norne "Half-Hand" Orkwood
Heiress: Vursa Orkwood

Skills of the Chieftain
- Duel +3
- Naval Battle +2
- Charisma +2
- Land Battle +1 (from Iron resource)

Effects of Nettlebank
+2 Siege Defence (from Stone resource)

The Orkwood

Levy

Total: 750 men, 750 points - 575 Light Infantry (575 points) - 175 Archers (175 points) Composition Base: 500 men, 500 points - 375 Light Infantry (375 points) - 125 Archers (125 points) Iron Resource: 250 men, 250 points - 200 Light Infantry (200 points) - 50 Archers (50 points)

Militias

Land Total: none Naval Total: 37 ships, 2,480 points - 31 Ironborn Longships (2,480 points) Composition Base militia: 6 ships, 480 points - 6 Ironborn Longships (480 points) Edicts: 25 ships, 2,000 points - 25 Ironborn Longships (2,000 points)

Men-at-Arms

Land Total: 900 men, 2700 points - 900 Hearth Warriors (2700 points) Naval none

[Narf]

The landing in Falkeshall, the boat ride across the wide dark 'river' that led into the harbour, the small harbour village on the Embankment nestled between the cliffs, where a stout harbour master saluted Miss Stonetree. He had spotted her ship and banners at a distance and stood to welcome her as she docked. She jumbed off the ship, leaving it to her two guards to tie it. She winked at the harbour master, proceeded to arrogantly size him up expressionlessly. He smirked- Her stonecold face cracked up in a smile and she threw her hand forth and shook his warmly-- "It is good to see you and Falkeshall in such good conditions, Otto." She gestured jestingly to his stomach. "At least you don't have to shelter us from arrows or madmen this time around." He waved his hand dismayingly. "By salt and stone girl, are you going to bring that up every time you visit?" She was past him by the time he had finished speaking.. She walked towards the stables.. Raised her voice to compensate.. "Yes. I am. Otto the Hero!" He grunted and turned to go after Silise. When he too arrived at the stables she was leading out a saddle-less horse and mounted it in a agile motion. "I'll burrow this." She threw him some coins which he pocketed fast. And then the the narrow journey up the cliffs to Orkwood Castle. Nettlebank began... Silise could only gasp. She had seen a great deal of beauty in her short life, Orkwoods cliffs was on top of her list, dark and looming like great trolls leading the more and more narrow path into Nettlebanks nest at the end. Stonetree's beauty-grand and stony and masculine. Chiselled most places by human hands. On Orkmont, much was magnificent, carved by nature. It was full of light and shadow, contrasts giving life to the cliffs faceing south, with the sun from the east and the walls were covered in a delicate green-and-white striped wallpaper. Moss and salt from the air playing at artistry. Like charming pictures in gilt frames. Ascending up to the gorge over the cliff-curtain rail, a soft green leaf-pattern carpet unfolded all around, for these cliffs had a secret like a clam with a perl. The Orkwood. A rare seight on the Ironislands.. She smiled to herself and spurred the horse on. Riding over the wooden bridge announcing her arrival at the gates to those on guard.

[Dirty Chai]

The gate was already open, with one door latched close and one open, leading a narrow passage in during a peaceful day like this.
The watchmen in the nest above the gate glanced at the Salthair, recognized her, and continued watching the sea's horizon.
"Silise Stonetree!" a yell went into the courtyard from the other side of the tower as she crossed under it, followed by a ring of the bell above, echoing three times.

The courtyard was quiet today, though the sound of chickens came from the left of the entrance.
Guards were about, with eyes all over the courtyard, but they were relaxed, without reason to be otherwise.
An old woman was pulling a bucket out of a well, some youths were shooting at the archery butt on the far side, and..

The sounds of hooves, and voices. Around the corner of the fort's stable walls, one could look into the open doors to see Vursa Orkwood riding a new colt around the circle, calling to it reassuringly. Her long brown hair was tied up into a tail at the back of her head, and she wore leather here, without any flowing clothes to obstruct riding. Three retainers looked on approvingly but warily, two outside of the circle, one inside with the rope ready.

[Narf]

She looked around Nettlebank for the voice at first, blood rushing to her cheeks for a second. She inhaled deeply as she forced the horse in a circle till she had ascertained the direction of the voice as best she could. She knew that voice and it made her quite glad. She remembered to exhale. Closed her eyes for a moment before forcing the horse to a standstill before dismounting.. Hearing the jovial messing about from over the stables, still full of adrenalin from the magical flight up the cliffs.. Vursas' gleeful yell.. It was exciting to come here. Everytime.. She closed her eyes again trying to calm down a bit.. Exhaled again.. She took off the deerskin sack she had burdened the horse with and hastily removed some pleats from her dress and tried to smooth out her prematurely greying hair.. Luckily it was a rather accommodating birds nest she had and it smoothed out relatively easy.

She took the horse by the bridle and was ready to make a confident stroll to the stables, to stable the horse and follow the sound. But something odd happened, were she nervous? She stood still not knowing in her wildest imagination what was wrong. This was a good place nothing to be nervous about. She looked at the women and kids at the well. All children were precious and extravagantly loved here, and a mother knew that if a child was out of sight, it wouldn't be far from someone else's who would protect it.. And she knew this place.. No.. It was another kind of nervous.. Blood rushed to Silise's cheeks again.. She widened her eyes, shook her head, held a hand to her forehead. She might be getting a bit sick. With that reassurance she shoot it off.. Or well She was sweating inside her fur coat that was over her dress, she was out of breath, exhausted.. Shaking her head again she took off her cloak and hooked it over her shoulder. Salthair regained most of her usual gait and mannerism by the time she reached the stables. This was a good place the thatched roofs were one of her favourite traits about the place. Just something.. Nice about it. Delivering the horse to a stable boy on the way she entered to have Vursa, the colt and three retainers in sight.

Miss Stonetree suppressed another flood of blood as best she could, which resulted in a chill. Ignoring it she continued to look forward. That was her dear friend Vursa.. Full as life as ever.. On top of a new horse she had not seen before. Sure it was nice but it was n.. Erh. Well she was glad to see her friend whom she had experienced so much with. Near death encounters. Vursa's older brother had taken her Reaving. Sure the drowned god mocked her with grey hair for the effort. But that didn't detract from the experience of it all. The adventure, the sea, the reaving. And later that year all three of them survived a assassination attempt together. It was truly a short life so far. But they had already experienced more together than one might from a lifelong... Friendship. She smiled. And the feasts their parents had held together.. Good memories. Now both the Stonetree parents and Orkwood parents were gone. But the bonds they had sure to establish, were strong as ever.. She walked forward with a dignified straight back. Smiling to the retainers.. She didn't want to interrupt Vursa so she asked one of them leaning in slightly. "Where did you steal that horse?" She said in jest.. Well and genuine interest..

[Dirty Chai]

"Took it in tribute from one of the landholders, over by Geir's Perch. Bastard was holding back taxes, so we took his best colt," grinned the retainer as the Salt-hair appeared suddenly.

Vursa turned her head to look at her newly arrived cousin with open-mouthed surprise, still riding the horse around in circles, urging the youthful steed onwards.
"Silise!" she yelled out, a happy excitement to it.
She dismounted gracefully, slipping from the saddle like an acrobat as the horse kept circling, with one of the retainers slowing the colt down with the rope in hand.

Vursa climbed over the small railing around the circle, and then stood before Silise, embracing her.
"Your hair!" It had silvered much since last they met.

[Narf]

What little interest she had mustered for the colt dissipated the second Vursa called her name "Vursa!" She replied, there had been meant to be a slight giggle in there but instead it came out like a exhalation of hot hoarse air.. And then the delayed giggle.. Everything went wrong today she thought to herself. A worry soon forgotten as she was embraced by her cousin. who was damp and warm from the exertion of riding the new colt. As she had to be herself from her expedience up the cliffs. She almost closed her eyes, the scent of hair. And then the hot breath on her neck as Vursa commented on her Salthair's - more greyed hair.. After a few moments they freed themselves from the embrace. Silise shrugged slightly. A quite meek attempt at brushing it off. Suddenly feeling very concious about her whitening hair. "Yea, I uhh.. It.. Since.. Well yea it's going rather fast.. I don't know why it's happening. Even thought about asking a priest..." She stood slightly tense.. Feeling awkward and weird...

[Dirty Chai]

Vursa laughed broadly, gesturing out of the stables for them to walk towards the hall.
A bead of sweat slipped down from her tied-up hair down her cheek.

"I wonder what the Andal priests would say, there are some allowed to live at Orkwatch because of the old king's wife," she wonder aloud with an amused tone.
A Reyne woman had overthrown the balance of power of all of Orkmont, some few decades ago - everyone knew, everyone remembered that.
Things had undoubtedly changed after that, here, but none of the remaining Orkwoods, nor any of their younger warriors could remember Orkmont before that.

Striding from the stables and into the courtyard, towards the hall, she began,
"You've missed Norne, cousin, he went south, reaving, mentioned the Arbor."
She smiled mischievously, her pale skin dimpling around the mouth,
"Told him to bring back some of their famous wine."

[Narf]

Silise smiled back as a reflex as Vursa laughed, and her hair worries were instantly out of the world. She recomposed herself slowly and straightened up. She strolled out of the stables with Vursa and enjoyed the way the sun returned once out from under the roof again, it was a caress she greatly loved, one of the reasons she loved sailing.

Coming out into the courtyard again, to be surrounded by the thatched roofs and the children at the well. They had a good life here. She smiled a thing smile showing a bit of her teeth before returning her attention towards the hall they were approaching. She felt a bit better than she had just arriving here. She hoped that whatever cold or what it was would abade or at least wait till her stay was over..She looked at her younger cousin as she spoke.. And then her brows narrowed slightly. Salthair laid her hand on Vursa should to gently make her stop. She answered her younger cousin a bit distantly while she took her sleeve, removed some beads from Vursa's forehead and chin. "Arbor wine is undeniably good. Though.. " She started settling some of Vursas hair back into the tail they had loosened themselves from, not that it had been her intent to begin with, she didn't mind a bit of messy hair. But being distant in thoughts she had just went on to that after removing the beads. "I had hoped, actually, to catch Norne. Wanted to invite him on a Reaving, that Ulptur have gotten me into... Oh well.." She placed the lost stray lock of hair behind Vursas ear as she finished the sentence.. She froze a bit a second realising it might no longer be okay to treat her younger cousin like this.. The age difference meant less and less, as they got older.

She attempted to hide her hesitant thoughts and turned to continue into the hall from the opening. She swallowed and made sure she still had her calm neutral voice that she used to speak with. That it was unaffected by her doubts. "In any case I will soon be going Reaving again, Ulptur have just returned with our ships.. He was wounded when he docked.. Too reckless... Not that I should complain.." She added but felt that it was a mistake, even though not meant to, she feared it might remind Vursa of her other brothers.. She hoped her bright and cheerful mind would avoid it though. She expected it would.

[Dirty Chai]

"Ah," the smile flattened, "He should be returning soon though," Vursa explained, serious now.
"Where has Ulpter decided to send you?" she asked, with a resumed tone of amusement.

They entered into the hall, ascending first a grassy mound, then crossing through two large wooden doors into the mead hall.
The hall itself was fairly empty, though a fire was lit in the nearby hearth.

Looking around, Vursa snapped her fingers as she entered, and stood by the fire as thralls rushed forward to remove the slick leather vest, leaving only the loose white undergarments. Another thrall brought in the more usual coat of furs and burlap, and Vursa, without inhibition, slipped it over her torso like a boy slipping into armor.

[Narf]

She flustered a bit taking a short walk around the fire as an excuse to get time to calm down .. When she returned and Vursa slipped into her garments she couldn't help but smile. Yep that was Vursa. The fur coat she had hooked over her shoulder was laid carefully on one of the benches by the fire. Silise sat down on it and placed her chin in her hand, the elbow resting on her knee. With distant and half-hearted disappointment over Norne being away on another Reave she Answered as she gazed into the flames and then through the dancing sprites to look at Vursa fitting into her clothes on the other side..

"Honestly.. I don't know.. It's a Greyjoy led expedition." she said with her calm melodic voice.. She placed a lock of grey hair behind her ear, wrested her gaze from Vursa. And stretched her arms up holding her hands together. The fireplace shone it's dancing light on Salthair as she looked up at the lofty rafters of the hall, hidden in darkness. Taking her arms down again, she removed some pleats and folds from her dress before looking for Vursa again. As with most in here the orange glow danced over Vursa.. She smiled, and as she rubbed her shoulder slightly she continued.. "Ulptur mentioned the Riverlands. Would be interesting to see. Anything you want from there?" She asked casually.

[Dirty Chai]

She flustered a bit taking a short walk around the fire as an excuse to get time to calm down .. When she returned and Vursa slipped into her garments she couldn't help but smile. Yep that was Vursa. The fur coat she had hooked over her shoulder was laid carefully on one of the benches by the fire. Silise sat down on it and placed her chin in her hand, the elbow resting on her knee. With distant and half-hearted disappointment over Norne being away on another Reave she Answered as she gazed into the flames and then through the dancing sprites to look at Vursa fitting into her clothes on the other side..

"Honestly.. I don't know.. It's a Greyjoy led expedition." she said with her calm melodic voice.. She placed a lock of grey hair behind her ear, wrested her gaze from Vursa. And stretched her arms up holding her hands together. The fireplace shone it's dancing light on Salthair as she looked up at the lofty rafters of the hall, hidden in darkness. Taking her arms down again, she removed some pleats and folds from her dress before looking for Vursa again. As with most in here the orange glow danced over Vursa.. She smiled, and as she rubbed her shoulder slightly she continued.. "Ulptur mentioned the Riverlands. Would be interesting to see. Anything you want from there?" She asked casually.

"The Riverlands?" Vursa held her hands above the fire, warming them, and then laughed again.
"No, though thank you. I cannot think of a thing the fish-men would have that I would want." And if there was, she thought, she would rather take it herself, if only Norne would let her raid as she willed yet.

"Everyone calls you Salt-hair now?" Orkwood turned her head to grin at Silise over her shoulder.
"How fearsome!"

A black longship glided into Nettlebank's harbor. The ship was, of course, Lamentation, and a Greyjoy banner hung above the sail. Herleif Greyjoy leapt ashore, his shield slung over his back and a sword at his side. He also carried a small war hammer with a spike on the opposite end of the hammer. Several quiet oarmasters and captains were among him, but only a few ventured forth to shore. He asked to be taken to the Hall.

When the lone Pykemen ship slipped into the cove of Nettlebank, they found that a host of some near twenty longships had been assembled but not yet pushed out into the water. In the pines just above the sand, the Greyjoy could easily see several more vessels sitting in the shadowed forest, adding the count near up to the thirty.

The small harbor village, Falkeshall, was filled with men, and tents accompanied the longships up in the pines.
Sounds of sharpening blades filled the small inlet.

The stablemaster gave the Greyjoy and his few followers some horses so that they could venture up the steep path to Nettlebank, which was perched on a rocky hill above, like a wooden bird's nest. They curved around the hill as they ascended, and finally came to the bridge which crossed over a gorge below, where the small inlet formed into a narrow fjord.

"State your name!" called a man from the high post above the gate before he spotted the Greyjoy banner on the ship far below.
A moment later, the other watchman yelled out "Greyjoy visitor!" into the yard, as loud as he could.

Some more moments, and one of the two gate doors swung open, leaving a narrow entrance for one man at a time.
A few warriors waited on the other side to escort Greyjoy to the hall.

[Narf]

"The Riverlands?" Vursa held her hands above the fire, warming them, and then laughed again.
"No, though thank you. I cannot think of a thing the fish-men would have that I would want." And if there was, she thought, she would rather take it herself, if only Norne would let her raid as she willed yet.

"Everyone calls you Salt-hair now?" Orkwood turned her head to grin at Silise over her shoulder.
"How fearsome!"

Silise smiled.. A bit hurt or disappointed she didn't want anything from her.. Salthair would try to find something special anyway... She nodded to that even so, then pulling out some of her hair to look at it, as Vursa returned to the subject of her silvering hair.. "I suppose it is. It have character at least. We had sailed some days in a bitter wind. And many of us got salt in our hair.. But only my hair actually began to become white from it... Suppose its rather cool to have a callname so fast.." Silise looked up from where she was sitting and let her gace up on Vursa as her cousin was warming her hands. She stared for a few moments before her eyes widened. "Oh, right I have a... Gift for you.. We just need to mend it and wash the blood out of it.". She opened the sack she had with her and pulled out an item from it. She held up some kind of finesilked green dress with some stabbing holes and remnants of blood. It was a very fine dress. For a few seconds she was unsure which way to turn it. She only had two herself, the dark-blue on she was wearing she had modified to have a bit of practical function so she could ride, by cutting the dress up from the floor to around the hip, and sewing the edge again, inserting some leather straps to be able to hold it together if it were windy.. And she had another one for.. Even finer occasions. That were unmodified. But it was rarely in use.. The green dress she turned towards Vursa with a smile..."We can fit it to you and make whatever change to it that you'd like..". Being a few years older she had held a sewing needle a bit longer. She smiled again.. "Ulptur returned with it." She explained..

[Pontifex Maximus]

A black longship glided into Nettlebank's harbor. The ship was, of course, Lamentation, and a Greyjoy banner hung above the sail. Herleif Greyjoy leapt ashore, his shield slung over his back and a sword at his side. He also carried a small war hammer with a spike on the opposite end of the hammer. Several quiet oarmasters and captains were among him, but only a few ventured forth to shore. He asked to be taken to the Hall.

[Pontifex Maximus]

Herleif gave a yellow smile as he came into the hall. "Such formality!" he said in an open laugh and a yellow smile "It is just as well." he finished as he took a look around the hall. Wood and thatch, mud and palisade. It looked more like a marcher camp than a permanent settlement but Herleif didn't care. Permanent fortifications seemed like a waste of time to him anyway, even a sign of weakness. Herleif wore many token of a warrior and man of rank "Who here has authority to treat with me?" He inquired

[Dirty Chai]

The mead hall itself had stone laid into the floor, but it was still an antiquated style, where the center of the hall was a large open hearth, where a moderate fire now burned.
A thrall tended to it, while two other thralls were cleaning the stone floor with rags when Greyjoy entered it.

At first they paused and looked unsure, but then two nobles appeared from the otherside of the hall, and one of the shooed them away his hand, hissing.
Once they all left, the golden-haired of the two stepped forward. His left hand was missing two fingers, and an ornate sword of green and gold and Reach flowers hung from his belt - a recent prize. The man himself was dressed in dark felt and leather, slim on his thin figure. The hair fell to his shoulders, and his brows were heavy and his eyes grey.

There were two infamous men on Orkmont: its Half-Andal king, and the Half-Hand of Orkwood.
It didn't need to be said which this was, upon whom shadows danced from the nearby fire.

"I know you are a Greyjoy, but I am not familiar with your family beyond the reputation. What do you call yourself?"

[Pontifex Maximus]

Herleif folded his arms across his chest, his long, braided hair falling across his left shoulder. "My father, Eiric, is called the Lord Reaper of Pyke, a title that I would also earn for myself." Herlief said with a smile. "I am, however, Herlief. Nothing more, nothing less." There was a superfluous trend among the Ironborn of late, that of assuming high title and rank, whether earned or not. "I likewise do not know what the lords of this hall call themlesves." He said by way of invitation to introduce themselves by whatever means they considered appropriate

[Dirty Chai]

The Orkmont noble rested his hands on his belted waist.
"Welcome Herleif. I am Norne Orkwood, and I am but chieftain here."

He gestured towards the Greyjoy, and then towards a seat near the fire.
"Why do you call upon me, then?"

[Pontifex Maximus]

Herleif rested his hands on his own, silver belt. "Chieftain Norne Orkwood, it is good to meet you." he said with a yellow laugh. He drained his cups and called for more ale. "Do you want to kill greenlanders, hump their women, and take thralls?" He knew he could have guessed the answer, but he waited for a response.

[Dirty Chai]

Herleif rested his hands on his own, silver belt. "Chieftain Norne Orkwood, it is good to meet you." he said with a yellow laugh. He drained his cups and called for more ale. "Do you want to kill greenlanders, hump their women, and take thralls?" He knew he could have guessed the answer, but he waited for a response.

Norne grinned and played off of an old kenning, "Aye, I like to travel on the summer winds."
The Orkwood had a strong jaw, but the most curious feature revealed itself now in the form of dimples forming around his maw as he grinned wide, like wrinkles on pale skin, a family trait.

Silise smiled.. A bit hurt or disappointed she didn't want anything from her.. Salthair would try to find something special anyway... She nodded to that even so, then pulling out some of her hair to look at it, as Vursa returned to the subject of her silvering hair.. "I suppose it is. It have character at least. We had sailed some days in a bitter wind. And many of us got salt in our hair.. But only my hair actually began to become white from it... Suppose its rather cool to have a callname so fast.." Silise looked up from where she was sitting and let her gace up on Vursa as her cousin was warming her hands. She stared for a few moments before her eyes widened. "Oh, right I have a... Gift for you.. We just need to mend it and wash the blood out of it.". She opened the sack she had with her and pulled out an item from it. She held up some kind of finesilked green dress with some stabbing holes and remnants of blood. It was a very fine dress. For a few seconds she was unsure which way to turn it. She only had two herself, the dark-blue on she was wearing she had modified to have a bit of practical function so she could ride, by cutting the dress up from the floor to around the hip, and sewing the edge again, inserting some leather straps to be able to hold it together if it were windy.. And she had another one for.. Even finer occasions. That were unmodified. But it was rarely in use.. The green dress she turned towards Vursa with a smile..."We can fit it to you and make whatever change to it that you'd like..". Being a few years older she had held a sewing needle a bit longer. She smiled again.. "Ulptur returned with it." She explained..

A dress did Vursa see as she turned, her mouth curled in momentary uncertainty.
"Ah, how nice of you," she smiled happily, walking forward to grasp it.
Though she wondered silently if she would ever wear it, as she was prone to agree with the warrior's way. But a fine gift it was, reminiscent of the gifts that her father had oft brought back for their mother.

"Where did you steal it?" she asked passingly, feeling one of the tears with a finger running over the fabric.

[Pontifex Maximus]

Herleif nodded in approval. "A fine tune, I know it well. But we will not be sailing south, I plan a northern adventure." He barely stopped but to replenish his cups "We sail north, and I would take as many as were willing with me. We will reave the northern coasts, and remind the northmen that they have more to fear than an icy winter." He looked to Hild, who remained almost motionless, not caring for any of the dramatics. "We will their women, take them as slaves, plunder their hoards, and they will not have the nerve or will to stop us." Herleif added with a grin. "I have it all worked out." He had the cocky air of a reaver in his prime. "So! How many ships and crews can you pledge to this cause? I shall split the plunder equitably."