Meeting of the lords - 2

30AC (Meeting in the Lord stark ssolar )

Torrhen Stark held the gaze of each Northern lord in turn. "While these new beverages may open avenues for trade," he cautioned, his voice firm, "we must not become reliant upon them. They are novelties, and the tastes of the south can be fickle. Our true strength lies in the established wealth of the North: the rich furs of the Wolfswood, the strong ironwood from our forests, and the swift horses bred by House Ryswell. The profits we gain from these new trades should not be squandered on frivolous pursuits. Instead," he emphasized, "they must be reinvested to further expand and increase the production of our traditional goods. Let the gold from southern appetites fuel the growth of our existing strengths, ensuring a lasting prosperity for the North."

Torrhen Stark turned his gaze specifically to Lord Desmond Manderly, a knowing look in his eyes. "Lord Manderly," he said, his voice carrying a note of particular emphasis, "trade is the very lifeblood of House Manderly. Your ships sail the seas, bringing wealth and goods to our shores. With the new opportunities that arise, particularly the potential for the ice trade and the exotic beverages, I urge you to expand your fleet. More ships mean more trade, greater reach, and increased prosperity for White Harbor and, by extension, the entire North. Invest wisely, Lord Manderly, for the seas offer a boundless horizon."

Torrhen Stark's words held a note of paternal pride, even if tinged with a touch of bewildered respect. "Lord Manderly," he continued, a slight furrow in his brow, "my grandson, Theon… though he has only seen ten name days, possesses a mind that works in… unusual ways. He has designed a few ships, or so he claims, that he believes can sail faster than any we currently possess. He speaks of… streamlined hulls and different arrangements of sails. The details are beyond my understanding, truth be told."

Torrhen leaned forward slightly, his gaze intent. "However, I have seen glimpses of his other… insights. While I may not grasp the intricacies of his naval designs, I trust that there may be merit to his claims. He has a… god-given talent for seeing things others do not. I would urge you, Lord Manderly, a man whose life is intertwined with the sea, to speak with him. Hear his ideas. It is possible that this young Stark may hold the key to a faster Northern fleet."

Lord Desmond Manderly, his interest clearly piqued by Torrhen Stark's words, nodded his ample head. "Lord Stark," he replied, a thoughtful expression on his face, "if your grandson possesses such ingenuity, then it would be remiss of me not to hear his designs. I have spent my life on the water, and a faster fleet would indeed be a boon to our trade. I shall seek out young Theon after this meeting and discuss his… unconventional ideas." A flicker of anticipation crossed his features as he considered the possibilities.

The discussion in Torrhen Stark's solar continued for some time, delving into the specifics of road construction, trade routes, and the implementation of the new agricultural techniques. The lords offered their insights, raised concerns, and pledged their support for the Lord of Winterfell's ambitious vision for the North.

Finally, as the midday sun began to cast long shadows through the glass windows, Torrhen Stark rose from his seat, signaling the end of the formal meeting. "My lords," he announced, his voice carrying a note of decisive action, "the path ahead is clear. Now, it is time for each of you to return to your lands and begin speaking with your own bannermen about these plans for the future of the North. Explain the opportunities that lie before us, the strength we can build together. Answer their questions and secure their commitment. The success of this endeavor rests not only on the wisdom of this council but on the unity and cooperation of all the houses of the North. Let us work together to forge a brighter future for our people." With a final, resolute nod, Lord Stark dismissed the assembly.

As the lords concluded their meeting in the solar, they began to depart, their discussions continuing amongst themselves as they made their way towards the midday meal. 

It was after the midday meal, as the Great Hall began to empty and the lords sought out a moment of rest or further conversation, that Lord Desmond Manderly, his considerable frame moving with surprising purpose, approached Theon who was talking with jonnos at the long table.

"Young Lord Theon," Lord Manderly's booming voice resonated, drawing Theon's attention. "Your grandfather, Lord Torrhen, spoke to us this morning of some… innovative designs for ships. He suggested they possess a speed greater than our current vessels." Lord Manderly's experienced eyes, which had scanned countless horizons, held a keen interest. "He credited you with their conception. As a man whose livelihood and the prosperity of White Harbor depend on the swiftness and efficiency of our fleet, I am most eager to hear more. Tell me, young lord, what are these designs you have envisioned?"

Theon Stark turned to face the imposing Lord Manderly, a flicker of eagerness in his grey eyes. "Indeed, Lord Manderly," he confirmed. "I have been working on several designs that I believe will significantly improve the speed of our ships. I would be pleased to discuss them with you in detail. If you would be amenable, perhaps we could meet in my workshop in about an hour? It is where I keep my sketches and models."

Lord Manderly's face, which had held a mixture of curiosity and perhaps a touch of skepticism, softened into a genuine smile. "An hour in your workshop it is, young Lord Theon," he agreed readily. "I am most eager to see what innovations you have conceived. A faster fleet would be a boon indeed." He gave a hearty nod, his multiple chins wobbling slightly. "I shall find you there."

After an hour in the work shop

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Lord Desmond Manderly, his curiosity a palpable weight, entered the workshop. The sight that greeted him caused his jaw to slacken and his eyes to widen in utter astonishment. Scattered across tables and suspended from the ceiling were intricate miniature models of ships unlike any he had ever seen. Their hulls were long and slender, their lines clean and sharp, and their sails were arranged in a bewildering array of masts and angles. Charts covered the walls, filled with precise drawings and annotations that spoke of a deep understanding of wind and water.

Just as Lord Manderly stood there, completely gobsmacked, Theon and Jonnos Stark entered the workshop, a shared smile playing on their lips. They exchanged a knowing glance and then chuckled softly at the utterly bewildered expression on the Lord of White Harbor's face.

"Lord Manderly," Theon said, a hint of amusement in his voice, "welcome to my humble workshop. I trust you find something of interest?" Jonnos, unable to contain his mirth, let out a soft snort of laughter, earning a playful nudge from his elder brother.

Lord Desmond Manderly, his curiosity piqued by the young lord's claims, entered the workshop. He stopped short, his jaw dropping slightly as his eyes took in the contents of the room. Miniature ships, crafted with an astonishing level of detail, sat on worktables, their designs unlike any he had ever seen. Beside them lay sleek, powerful-looking bows that seemed to be made of more than just wood, and several crossbows with intricate mechanisms. Scattered amongst these were various steel parts, their purpose utterly baffling to the seasoned lord – strange gears, coiled springs, and precisely shaped pieces that offered no immediate clue to their function.

Just as Lord Manderly stood there, utterly gobsmacked by the array of unfamiliar inventions, Theon and Jonnos Stark entered the workshop, a shared, knowing smile gracing their young faces. They exchanged a quick glance, a silent acknowledgment of the likely impact of their creations on the experienced lord of White Harbor. 

Theon Stark, a hint of pride in his voice, turned to Lord Manderly, gesturing around the workshop with a sweep of his hand. "So, Lord Manderly," he asked, a playful smile touching his lips, "what are your initial thoughts on my humble little workspace?"

Lord Manderly, still somewhat overwhelmed by the sheer ingenuity on display, let out a low whistle. His eyes, wide with astonishment, scanned the miniature ships, the advanced bows, and the mysterious steel components. He then turned to Theon, his usual booming voice softened with genuine awe. "Young Lord Theon," he said, shaking his head slowly, "if this is your 'humble' workshop, then I daresay all the forges and workshops in Westeros and Essos combined are nothing but heaps of garbage! By the Seven Hells, boy, what manner of wonders do you have brewing in that young mind of yours?"

Standing beside Theon, Jonnos couldn't contain himself. He burst into a fit of laughter, his youthful mirth echoing through the workshop at Lord Manderly's utterly flabbergasted reaction.

Lord Manderly stared at the miniature warships and merchant vessels, his gaze sweeping from the imposing lines of the ship of the line to the sleek hull of the frigate, and then to the more practical designs of the barque, galleon, and schooner. He then turned his attention to the intricate blueprints, his brow furrowed in concentration as he tried to decipher the complex lines and annotations. He looked back at Theon, then back at the ships, a stunned silence hanging in the air. "The… the ships," he finally stammered, shaking his head slightly. He repeated the process, looking from Theon to the models and then back again. "The ships… these designs…" He paused, a look of utter disbelief on his face. "The ships…"

Finally, he fixed his gaze on Theon, his voice filled with a mixture of awe and utter bewilderment. "Young Lord Theon," he said slowly, his eyes wide, "are you absolutely certain you are only ten name days old?"

Theon couldn't help the wide grin that spread across his face at Lord Manderly's astonishment. Beside him, Jonnos dissolved into another fit of giggles, clutching his stomach as he watched the Lord of White Harbor's bewildered expression.

"Yes, my lord," Theon confirmed, his voice filled with amusement. "Ten name days, as true as the ice in Winterfell's cellars."

Theon, still smiling at Lord Manderly's reaction, then reached for a small, intricately crafted device resting on one of the worktables. It consisted of a polished brass casing, a glass cover, and a needle that swung freely. "And there is this," Theon said, holding it out for Lord Manderly to examine. "I call it a 'compass'."

He explained, "This needle, will always point towards the North. Think of the implications for maritime trade, Lord Manderly. No longer will your captains be solely reliant on the sun, the stars, or landmarks to navigate. Even in thick fog or under cloudy skies, they will always know their direction. This will allow for more direct routes, safer voyages, and the possibility of exploring new trade lanes with greater confidence and efficiency. It will, I believe, significantly increase the volume and reliability of maritime trade for the North."

Lord Manderly carefully took the compass from Theon's outstretched hand, his brow furrowed in concentration as he examined the strange device. He turned slowly, moving around the workshop, watching as the needle steadily maintained its direction, seemingly unaffected by his movements or the walls of the room. He held it up, peered at it from different angles, and then shook his head in disbelief.

"I… I don't know what to say, young lord," he finally stammered, his voice filled with a mixture of awe and wonder. "It… it is… remarkable. Truly remarkable. To always know the way, even when the skies hide the stars… the implications for our ships, for trade… it is staggering." He looked back at Theon, his eyes wide with a newfound respect. "This… this changes everything."

Lord Manderly continued to marvel at the compass, turning it over in his large hands. "Two-fold, I say" he repeated, his voice filled with a mixture of excitement and disbelief. He looked at Theon, his eyes gleaming with the possibilities. "If this device truly allows our ships to navigate with such certainty, regardless of the weather or the time of day… then yes, young lord, I believe you are right. We could sail more often, take more direct routes, and explore waters previously deemed too treacherous or uncertain. Our trade with the Free Cities, with the Summer Isles… it could indeed double, perhaps even more! This… this is a treasure beyond measure." He clutched the compass carefully, a look of profound appreciation on his face. "You have a truly remarkable gift, young Lord Theon."

Theon, eager to share the intricacies of his designs, began to elaborate on the finer points of his ship models and blueprints. He pointed out the streamlined curves of the hulls, explaining how they would reduce drag and increase speed. He detailed the innovative sail configurations, describing how they would better capture the wind and allow for greater maneuverability. He spoke of reinforced hulls, improved cargo holds, and even hinted at rudimentary ballast systems for greater stability.

Initially, Jonnos sat beside his brother, listening with a degree of interest, occasionally nodding or asking a simple question. However, as Theon delved deeper into the technical specifications – the precise angles of the masts, the ratios of sailcloth to hull size, the subtle adjustments in rudder design – a glazed look began to appear in Jonnos's eyes. His head started to bob gently, and a soft snore escaped his lips. He had succumbed to the soporific effect of his brother's detailed explanations, the intricacies of naval architecture proving far less captivating than the thrill of swordplay or the flight of an arrow. Theon, engrossed in his explanation to the rapt Lord Manderly, seemed completely oblivious to his younger brother's descent into slumber.

Finally, Theon concluded his detailed explanation of his ship designs to the thoroughly impressed Lord Manderly. He turned, a satisfied smile on his face, only to find his brother Jonnos slumped against the wall, fast asleep, a soft snore escaping his lips. A mischievous glint entered Theon's eyes. He leaned closer to Jonnos's ear and, in a booming voice that echoed through the workshop, shouted, "WAKE UP, JON!"

Jonnos jolted awake with a startled cry, his eyes wide with confusion. "I'm awake! I'm awake!" he stammered, looking around wildly, unsure of what had startled him.

Lord Manderly, who had been observing the brothers' interaction with an amused expression, let out a hearty laugh, his considerable frame shaking with mirth. "Ah, the joys of brotherhood!" he chuckled. "A reminder that even amidst grand designs and serious discussions, the bonds of family remain strong… and delightfully disruptive."

Theon, still smiling at his brother's groggy state, gathered the meticulously drawn blueprints of his ship designs. He carefully rolled them and presented them to Lord Manderly. "Lord Manderly," he said, his voice now serious, "these are the fruits of my studies. Use them as you see fit, adapt them to the needs of your fleet. My only desire is to see a stronger North, and if these designs can contribute to that, then they have served their purpose."

Lord Manderly accepted the blueprints with a reverent nod. "Young Lord Theon," he said, his voice filled with genuine respect, "these are more than mere drawings. They are a vision of a brighter future for our trade and our strength upon the sea. I assure you, House Manderly will put them to good use. The North will remember this day."

With that, the three of them – Theon, Jonnos still rubbing the sleep from his eyes, and the impressed Lord Manderly – left the workshop, the scent of ink and the echoes of innovation lingering in the air.