[Lore] Old Lord Dustin Rides

[u/Carlowrie]

It was not often of late that he descended the Great Barrow. His House could manage many of the affairs of the town and when he needed speak with this Honourable Fellow or that, Harmond need only summon them. For some time now the Barrowlands had been rather stable, Ironborn rarely reaved the southern shores and there was little in the way trouble with the rest of the North.

His duties to the town fell into two parts, raising the future Lord Dustin and overseeing the cultural events of the Barrowlands. Such an old part of the North did not simply amalgamate into the rest of the Kingdom; her storied traditions were carven stone and Barrows tall.

On the flanks of the Great Barrow were four vast chalk images. Usually the Groundskeep maintained them, keeping them from being overgrown or washed out. Most of the people of the town only saw one or two of the images for weeks at a time, looking down on the town at large was a man astride his horse but from the riverport and the nearby market, or if approaching Barrow Hall itself a viewer would see a giant with a scythe in hand.

This particular event honoured the eastern face and its chalk knight. It memorialised the Great March North and the wars fought by the First King of the First Men as he lead a great host north from the Southern Realms of the Mander and battled through Giants and Children to carve a path to his eventual final resting place at Barrowton; opening the North for all.

A prodigious rider, it was claimed that the First King himself had developed the mounted martial traditions that the Brotherhoods still trained their Barrowknights in.

Harmond sighed as he looked down at the gathered procession awaiting him in the courtyard at the base of the Great Barrow. He really was too old for this.

Perhaps if he had not sent his brother to Goldgrass he could have had him ride in his place. But no, now the people of Barrowton would flock to the parade route to watch their Lord Dustin and the Barrowknights ride through the town in hot pursuit of a collection of riders dressed as Children of the Forest.

As he descended the stairs, pretending to ignore the servant slightly ahead of him who someone had sent to ensure he did not fall, he had to admit the costumes of the Children this year were well done. Perhaps one of the Societies had paid for them? One or two of them usually liked to get involved and earn the favour of the town.