“Where I am from, it is considered a good grace to identify someone by their name, Lord Volmark. I do forget that you men have the couth of a dying squid and the personality to go along with it.” Kára Tawney was not as tall as her younger sibling, nor did she strike so imposing a figure, but her voice carried the weight of authority in it, holding captive the attention of every man present.
Stormy viridian eyes passed between the two men, and finally a flash of white teeth was seen between solemn lips. “Where my sister would go, it is only right that I follow. We possess ships, and men, and more fighting skill than half this lot.” Extending a hand, she motioned to the Ironborn who were gathered around them. Her quip was met with sounds of disapproval and belligerence, which only served to fuel her amusement.
The leather-bound scabbard of her sword brushed against her thigh like a reassuring hand might as she walked, approaching Torric Greyjoy where he sat. She was dressed near-identical to her sister, with slight personal differences. Woolen leggings clung seamlessly to her thighs, tucked into worn leather boots that reached her knees. A sturdy linen undershirt with sleeves that covered the length of her arms was fitted beneath a leather tunic, belted with a variance of wide, multi-coloured strips of leather. The bindings were carved in runes of the religion of the Drowned God--prayers of strength, courage and discipline. About her wrists were vambraces of coloured metal, carved with the motifs of the sun and moon over the sea, and thin chains were woven in her bleached braids, simple decoration in respect to the myriad of trinkets in Rúna’s hair.
She had their attention now, having goaded the sensitive egos of those gathered, and she dipped her head in polite greeting when she came to a stop a mere few paces from the King himself. “I would accompany Lord Volmark in this task, if it please you, and my sister. As she seeks to help our father, so would I, but I would also seek a place amongst your captains, your lieutenants, your officers.” It was a bold request, so much that the murmurs in the room went silent abruptly, and every gaze in her direction took on an aspect of incredulity. She looked neither left nor right, holding her chin firm and watching the self-proclaimed king with keen eyes.