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Blackhaven
Aemon, Arren, and Ser Jory each waited their turn and were able to ink their names on the melee roster. A few significant names stood out to see there, most notably Prince Duncan Targaryen, former heir to the Iron Throne; his brother Daeron's companion Ser Jeremy Norridge; Roger Reyne, the Red Lion of Castamere (his younger brother Reynard was also competing); Ser Jason Lannister, brother to the somewhat recently-ascended Lord Tytos; and the Lord of Storm's End himself, Ormund Baratheon. Also on the list was Ser Harlan Grandison, a knight of growing renown who was indeed a relative of the Rosemonts. His name would not be recognized by many, but the hedge knight Ser Donal was there too.

Brandon, too, had no trouble registering himself for the archery competition. His opponents would include Lord Gwayne Hightower, Lord Walder Frey (whom some were saying now was past his prime), and the two Kingsguard knights who were accompanying Princes Duncan and Daeron, Sers Tristifer Vance and Joffrey Darklyn. Ser Joffrey's squire and Lord Gwayne's younger brother, the teenaged Gerold Hightower, was also on the list. Meanwhile, Ser Jon and Ser Aegon added their names to a lengthy list of jousting participants which included Prince Duncan, Prince Daeron, Ser Jason, Lord Ormund, Lord Gwayne, and the host of the tourney itself, Lord Ronald Dondarrion.

"I think that's all of us," said Aegon. "You guys head back to camp, I'll catch up to you. I'm going to go check on Bal at the stables." Aemon and Arren remembered that, when they'd arrived, Ser Aegon had paid to keep his courser Balerion (the name being a bit of a tongue-in-cheek reference to Aegon's own) in the castle stables. To quote, he'd wanted "the best treatment for her, without having to do it myself!"

The Stalls
"Ah, the young ones come to see my wares," said the foreign merchant with a hospitable twinkle in his eye as the Rosemonts approached. "Well, you shall not be disappointed. I have traded all across the eastern continent for these goods, and you may not find them anywhere else here in Westeros." He began to walk around his wagon, holding up and talking about his variety of products. They were all fairly well-organized, with items of similar origin and/or purpose being placed near each other.

"Here I have from all nine of the Free Cities," said the man, holding up a few of them to see. Edmund could see that indeed, all nine currencies were represented. "Beautiful novelties to own, not to mention valuable - especially if you ever find yourself across the Narrow Sea!"

He then moved to a black wooden case, which he opened. "This is a game very popular in Volantis, known as cyvasse. It is played upon a board, and you must use these pieces here to kill your opponent's king piece. This case has all the parts you may need, in addition to a scroll containing the laws of the game."

Next was a selection of jewellery: rings, bracelets, earrings, and necklaces. "These jewels come from everywhere you can name," said the man. "These ruby earrings were made in the Free City of Myr. This ring - you see how the tiny sapphire sparkles, yes? - comes from Qarth. And see this," he said, "The metal in this bracelet is amber, from Asshai. It is said to give the wearer uncanny good luck. And here's a necklace, enchanted by the alchemists of Lys. Whoever wears it will notice an improvement in their skills in bed."

Jeyne snorted. "You should buy that one, Robert," she teased.

The merchant moved over to a section of fascinating-looking arms, armour, and accessories. "And here," he announced, "Is some of my most prized merchandise. This blade is an arakh, used by the mighty Dothraki horselords. This is a helmet of the kind worn by the fearless Unsullied slave mercenaries. Here are some ceremonial knives, used by the priests of the Black Goat of Qohor. This is an axe, once held in the hands of a Bearded Priest of Norvos. And these gold bands," he said, holding them up, "Are worn by members of the Golden Company, one for each year of service." There were seven in total.Rosemont Camp
Rickard, Keegan, and Ardan came back around to the proper common area between the two Rosemont tents. Landry was there, practising sword play against a hastily-built straw dummy. The third Rosemont guard, Ferg, was nowhere to be seen.

"Dammit, as if taking care of you two wasn't enough," grumbled Rickard, "That [&@%!] Ferg keeps disappearing away to who-knows where." He looked around in frustration for a few moments, before finally settling his gaze on the twins. "Hey... wait a moment," he said. "You two are damned experts at sneaking off. Would you be able to help me find him?"

Blackhaven
"And almost all of us." Ser Brandon stepped over to the melee roster and added his name to those already signed up. Even Jory looked surprised that he was joining. "Brother? Do you really--" Ser Brandon silenced Jory with a look and a smile. "Yes I do." While a knight, it was clear to anyone looking at him that he wasn't particularly physically strong, nor intimidating. Despite this, he seemed confident in his choice to sign up for the melee.

"Right. I'm going to go double-check on our equipment. Is there anything you need, Brandon?" Ser Jon asked. The knight apparently named Ser Brandon nodded. "You remember that day in Dorne? When we--" Ser Jon nodded hastily. "Ah, yes. Of course. I'll see to it." With a stiff bow, Jon exited the castle, with Ser Jory accompanying him.

With a quick turn and a twirl of his cloak, Brandon was facing Aemon and Arren Rosemont. He wore a genuine smile upon his face. "My Lords Rosemont...a pleasure. I am Ser Brandon of House Wendbridge." He gave a quick bow and flourish, the three golden bands upon his left arm adding a jingle to the effect. He gestured towards the exit. "After you, my lords. If you cared to indulge me, perhaps we might have a word on the topic of the melee? I promise it will not be a waste of your time."

Robert smiled and shook his head when his sister teased him. He looked at the case which contained the foreign game with curiosity. "How much is the cyvasse?" Robert asked.

"None of my friends are fighters unless it's a mug of ale in front of them and their foe happens to be their own mouth. Don't have any brothers. Too much arguing over who gets to be the man of the house or so i've heard." Donnick told the knight before drinking more of his ale.

Blackhaven
Ser Brandon looked expectantly at the two Rosemonts.

"Maaybe!" Ardan said to Rickard, smiling slightly. "What's in it for us?" If you're good at something never do it for free.

Rosemont Camp
"Hmm..." Rickard puzzled in frustration at the unexpected request. Then he held up his finger. "Oh, I've got it! I won't try to stop you from doing to Ferg whatever mischief y'have planned. He has it coming to him, anyway, for sneaking off like this."

The Stalls
"Ah, that will be four golden dragons!" declared the merchant. "Try finding that price - or this game at all - anywhere else this side of the Narrow Sea!"

The Inn
"So, what made you decide to come all this way just to watch?" wondered Ser Donal. "I'm guessing you're no local, and you don't sound like a lordling."

Keegan

Keegan started at the opportunity and smiled at the possibilities. "Sounds fun!" He said going through what they could unleash on their quarry. "It's probably more fun than the tourney..." He whispered in Ardan's ear.

"We're always willing to discuss the melee, Ser Brandon." Aemon replied. He trusted his uncle would not care about the presumptions he'd made on his part. Inwardly, he was rather taken aback at the fact the man standing in front of him had even entered the brawl. He had, in Aemon's view, the frame of an Archer, not of a swordsman or pikeman.

"You could armor a knight for that price!" Edmund exclaimed, "It seems a interesting game, and I'm sure the set must be of high quality, but is there any chance we could convince you to lower the price? Just this once? Or perhaps we could trade you something, in addition to the coin?"

"My brother is right." said Robert. "We could buy a lot of things with four golden dragons. Things we know we'll enjoy. But we've never heard of this game let alone played it. Four golden dragons is a big risk to take on a game we might not even enjoy." Robert continued trying to bargain with the merchant.

"I got a bit bored and needed a distraction." Donnick told the knight before finishing off his own drink. "That and I may have slept with a lord's daughter that happened to be in favour with the local guards. I may have also told him to insert something that no mere man should tell a noble where to stick it." He said before grinning. "Just pulling your chain, i'm here to take a break from business and to see who will be the victor."

The Stalls
A gleam appeared in the merchant's eyes. "Very well, my young lords and lady...THREE golden dragons, in addition to...whatever you might wish to trade for the Cyvasse set, as was suggested." He inclined his head as if to bow, but Robert could see that the man's eyes lingered on the dirk at Edmund's hip.

The Inn
Ser Donal gave a curious look at Donnick. "I had no doubt you were joking, as few lords allow men to walk free after such happenings...with all their parts intact." He took a drink of ale. "And what would your 'business' be, then? You're no local, and you haven't the bearing of merchant. A sellsword? Yet it appears you have no sword to sell."


Blackhaven
As the group left the castle, Ser Brandon smiled again. "Excellent. Though you must forgive me, my lords, for my boldness--I have no doubt whatsoever, in my House's abilities, least of all, those of your own. But I believe an alliance would benefit us all. By our skills combined, we would gain renown, if not take the purse together! I would request but a portion of the purse, should we succeed. And in exchange, I would provide additional assistance in this endeavour, and perhaps the consideration that our Houses may have...much in common." He gave another quick, flourishy bow, as if to mitigate any slight offense(s) that might have been given.

"The best sellswords are the ones that don't make it obvious that they are sellswords otherwise, the lords will know that they have hired that one sellsword." Donnick lied to the knight. "I don't have my sword on display as it screams out i'm a sellword, murder me in my sleep or i'm a sellsword, feel free to kill me because i'm in the way of your business. The list goes on and on." He told the knight.

Ardan made a little thinking noise. "Alright!" He stated. Before turning to Keegan and smiling. "Yeah will be more fun!"

Keegan looked around, looking for a large marquis, or any place that their quarry might be hiding. He knew that soldiers liked to go whoring, so he looked for them respectively.

Edmund removed the dirk from his belt, rolling the sheathe over in his hands and half-drawing the blade to make a show of inspecting it. However, he did not offer it to the merchant.

"Drop a few stags off the price and you'll have this fine blade and a song of mine own invention. I've been told I sing like a robin, and my voice might attract more patrons for you, like over there." He pointed at the music shop.

Robert remained silent, he didn't want to interrupt his brother's attempts at bargaining.

The Inn
"Well if that's the case," said Ser Donal, "Could I hire you to do something for me, then?"

The Stalls
Keegan and Ardan left the camp in search of Ferg, with Rickard in tow. It wasn't long before they were able to come up with success in their endeavour: they caught sight of the hitherto-absent guard standing in the rightmost of the three queues that led up to the betting station. Although the registration for the joust was still open, some of the draws for the opening round had already been made (it was to be a pyramid-style elimination contest), and people were scrambling to place their bets. Ferg included, apparently. His curly hair, so light brown that it almost looked grey, and his undersized figure were unmistakable. He had not noticed the twins and Rickard yet, although the cross expression on the brothers' burly chaperone's face hinted that he would shortly make his presence known.
---
Meanwhile, back at the exotic goods merchant's stall, the man in question was considering his potential customers' proposal. He mulled it over for a few seconds, then put forward his statement.

"Fine, I will charge you only two dragons and twelve stags," he said, "But I ask payment in full before I can part with my item. Which means, song first, then I give you cyvasse. This also is good so that I know you are actually good singer, and do not have the voice of the, eh, dying goose."

Robert folded his arms and looked at his brother. "This I want to see." said Robert as he waited for Edmund to perform for the merchant.

"Kind friends and companions, come join me in rhyme
Come lift up your voices in chorus with mine
Come lift up your voices, all grief to refrain
For we may or might never all meet here again

Here's a health to the wee lass that I love so well
For style and for beauty there's none can excel
There's a smile on her countenance as she sits upon my knee
There's no man in this wide world as happy as me

So here's a health to the company and one to my lass
Let us drink and be merry all out of one glass
Let us drink and be merry, all grief to refrain
For we may or might never all meet here again."

When Edmund had finished, he became acutely aware of just how many people were around. His face flushed redder than his hair as he waited for the merchant's answer.

"Depends on the pay and what you need." Donnick informed the knight and knew that there was coin to be made. Along with potentially [&@%!] off hundreds of knights but a sword to the chest was said to be good for one's soul.

The Stalls
Edmund's song succeeded in drawing some passers-by over to the wagon, even a couple of the people who had already been listening to the man by the music shop (who had continued his performance, now singing "A Thousand Eyes and One"). Meanwhile, the wagon merchant's calls turned several of those onlookers into browsers. Edmund finished before the browsers could become buyers, but the foreign man was confident in his ability to sell his product now that the customers were there.

"Thank you kindly, young ser, that is, ah, very much appreciated," he said to Edmund with a grateful half-bow. He then held up the case containing cyvasse. "Now, just the rest of the payment and this is yours. The blade, two dragons, twelve stags."

The Inn
"Well, it's..." Ser Donal looked around, and lowered his voice. "...It's my opponent in the joust. They drew us just this morning. His name is Ser Alyn of Longtable, but people call him 'the Crooked' behind his back. He never plays fair in tourneys, and I'm worried he'll pull some foul trick today to get the better of me. I was considering doing something to get one step ahead of him, but I could never risk it myself. But now that you're here..." he imagined Donnick would get the picture.

"I don't have a lot of coin, but I think I've got enough saved to make a small job like this worth your while. There's a type of grass that grows near here - it's spindly and deep green, with small blue flowers - that'll put any horse under the weather for a day or more. I know this because, well... mine ate some accidentally on the day we arrived." He looked embarrassed to admit it, but pressed on. "I could pay you to find some, and sneak it to Ser Alyn's horse. Or maybe, you could get him drunk on cheap wine before the joust begins - just enough to disorient him for me. I'd give you the coin for it. Or... well, do you have any ideas of your own?"

"Shall we split the cost?" Robert asked his brother. He didn't wait for an answer, rather he reached into his coin purse and produced a gold dragon along with six silver stags.

The Stalls

Rickard shouted and blustered his way over to Ferg, getting his attention and that of everybody else in a fifty-foot radius. He grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and dragged him out of the betting queue, bringing him back to where the twins stood. His admonishments mixed with Ferg's protests and excuses were the soundtrack that the twins were given as they made their way back down through the stalls.

It wasn't long before the twins spotted their cousins, Robert, Jeyne and Edmund, by a shopkeeper's wagon up ahead. They seemed to be in the process of buying something.

Blackhaven

Aemon looked to his uncle and master-at-arms, who half-nodded, half-shrugged their affirmation. "Alright, our ears are open," the Rosemont heir said to his Wendbridge counterpart. "What did you have in mind?"