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Message: <blockquote data-quote="doghead" data-source="post: 6354685" data-attributes="member: 8243">Day Five, late afternoon in the Hall of the KeepLord Pemberton greets each of Tristan's travelling companions warmly inviting each to pull up a seat and join them by the fire. With his boots off and his bare feet warming before the fire, he doesn't seem like a man who stands much on ceremony. He is dressed in simple clothes with no sign of any crest or device. His face is weatherbeaten and his hands course and ingrained with dirt. Without knowing who he was, he would more likely to be taken for a successful yeoman farmer than Lord.During the course of the conversation, Tillian arrives to bring his Lord a message. "My good wife is delayed and will be remaining in Thornstead for the night. As the evening looks to be a fine one, and Three-Fingered Jake is in town, I think that I shall take my evening meal in the tavern. You are, of course, welcome to join me as my guests."Lord Pemberton takes the blade and inspects it for a moment before handing it back. "Indeed it is a great shame to see a fine blade in such a state." [1]Lord Pemberton glances over at the painting. "Ah, yes. That's my grandfather and grandmother in the grounds of Castle Brockendale. He was a difficult man by all accounts. I never met him. My Grandmother I remember vaguely. She didn't believe in talking to children." He looks wistful for a moment."My wife can't abide the picture. She keeps having it moved out of the hall whenever I am away." he laughs. "I have learnt more about this keep hunting for that picture than I ever did growing up here."[sblock=OOC][1]Sounds like a Parley move. Roll+CHA.[/sblock]</blockquote>

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