Riverkeep
Bryce lingers on Raith's last words, inspecting him as he walks away, seemingly to find an equally precious piece of information about Raith simply by watching his every movement. Unfortunately, it does not work.

Wordlessly, he returns to his seat, finally taking his eyes off Raith to attend to the rest of the lords at the meeting.

"As I was saying. Lord Caryonn, you know this land better than I do. Spare no detail."

Riverkeep

"Very well. There's a small riverling to the south. There's a pass a few miles down the waterway but at this time of the year it's a muddy marshland. Going around the waterway would take days and the surrounding land is too muddy to be fertile right now, so food would be hard to come by. Supply train wagons won't do in the mud; in short, Galt will have to ford the waterway or come across from the river. River galleys are protecting that method of entry, though, and there are no reports of naval aggression, so I highly doubt he will attempt to come from the river. After the waterway it's a short stretch of farmland, plains, and villages until they come upon Porte. In the event of siege, we usually have a way of supplies via the north river but harassment around Saxum has clipped our imports. Riverdale isn't sending supplies, claiming to have been alienated from the crown due to an assassination or some such. That said, we could hold out for a time, but I believe Galt is marching for expediency and will storm our walls. Our garrison, due to the influx of lords and ladies from the countryside, is close to a thousand strong but that won't hold against Galt. Local mercenary companies have been bought by the rebels using the abundance of wealth in Central. If we are going to survive we need help from the crown."

Riverkeep
... an assassination or some such.
At this, Bryce scans the room for Raith. Not being able to find him, he imagines the look on Raith's face, a smug smirk of knowing a secret that could crush the hopes of all gathered in the room.

"I've already sent a bird to Saxum. Men should arrive within the next two weeks. Enough men to hold our own against Galt in the field, I presume."

Riverkeep

A nobleman yells out, "Aye? And what happens until then? We stay here and starve? I might as well return to my own lands. Better to die at home than in a starving, dying city."

Several nobles cry out in agreement. Myr does nothing to calm the crowd this time, looking sheepishly down at his feet.

Riverkeep

"Starve?!"
Bryce says in a voice that seems to pierce through the white noise of the crowd. He walks toward the nobleman.

"You? A man dressed in silks and a cape and a piece of metal pinned to his lapel, each worth a generation of a farmer's earnings, gripes about starving?"

Bryce pauses, to turn at the nobles who supported the man, each with their own silks and capes and badges. He returns his gaze to the original nobleman.

"You sir, will not starve, have my word with that. You may have less butter on your loaves or less wine in your belly, but you will not starve. Those who can fear starvation are the men and women outside the doors, who have no maids, no servants, and no men at arms to keep them safe. Those are the people who should be griping about starving. Unfortunately, we don't have time to hear from every single one of them, so let us try to act in their best interest, shall we?"

Riverkeep

The nobleman frowns at Bryce.

"Why, in the names of the gods, would I care about peasantry?"

Riverkeep

"Have you already forgotten why we are in this predicament?"

"Because when you do not care about peasantry, they rise up and take your food for themselves. And weapons. And crowns."

Riverkeep

The noble's facial expression darkens.

"I grow weary of your insolence. What high lord are you to worship the commoners so? It is my right, no, my duty to show them their place. You may try my patience again but I advise you do so with arms bared."

Riverkeep

Bryce shakes his head at the noble.

"If anything that Galt and this rebellion has taught us, it is that we serve the masses."

He returns to Lord Caryonn.

"Is there anything more I should know?"

Riverkeep

The noble's face grows red.

"I will not be ignored so backhandedly! You may carry the name of Caryotte but I have never met a fool more undeserving of nobility."

The man draws his saber, a silly golden handled thing with more decoration than steel. Suddenly the entire room is filled with rasps of blades drawn. It's apparent that the noble isn't alone. As many of the lords glare at Bryce as they do at the noble, and even more take this opportunity to settle completely separate feuds.

Myr has declined to draw his rapier but is making no moves to calm the crowd; in fact, he seems too scared to do much of anything.