The ship heaved as another swell caught it, the waters were restless today but the wind that you had grasped upon promised to bring you into King’s Landing by mid-day. It had been seven years since you left Westeros, as a boy of five and ten fallen madly in love with a woman of Tyrosh. As the second son of House Malroy and your older brother Donold proving to be the son every Lord dreamed of you found little and less appealing about staying in Westeros. The fate of serving your brother for the rest of your days tasted bitter upon your tongue, and thus you fled with your lady love to her homeland in Essos. But upon this day you returned, a man of three and twenty with men at your back and vengeful wrath in your heart. The summons your Uncle had sent you sit closely to your breast, the parchment seemingly burning its way to your very core. You hadn’t heard of Robert’s Rebellion until it was nearly done, only whispers of it that you paid no mind assuming the Dragon Lords would quell such an insurrection with ease. Your Uncle’s missive spelled another story entirely, the Targaryens disposed, your family’s House in ruin, and King Robert I Baratheon sat upon the Iron Throne with a Lannister bride. Gathering the men in your command as quickly as you could you took ship with what little you had and sailed immediately for King’s Landing.

[Continued]

A knock upon your door disturbs your idle thoughts shaking you back into reality with the tide, “Father? Are you awake? The Captain has sent for you, he says we’ll be in King’s Landing soon.” You pull yourself from the hammock and open your door for your son. The young lad looks up at you brightly, his green eyes locking with your own, “Thank you Victus, have you gathered Ser Mason, Solhas, and Illiad yet?” He shakes his head the mop of curly brown hair falling into his eyes, “No father I’ve yet to find Solhas. Ser Mason is still retching his innards out over the stern, and Illiad is already with the Captain, they keep speaking in that weird tongue.” You laugh at your son’s report, “Myrish, my son. Illiad and the Captain are from Myr. He very rarely has chance to speak in his native tongue.” He nods with a thoughtful look in his eyes, “That must be lonely… Maybe he can teach me someday?” Kneeling to your son’s level you brush the hair from his eyes, “Perhaps son. But for now go and find Solhas, he’s likely trying to calm the horses. I will meet you on the deck in a moment.” The boy nods with a smile and runs off oddly at home on the ship despite having never sat foot upon one. You pick up your sword belt and strap it to your waist with a quick motion and pull on your boots before heading top side. To your right is Ser Mason Flowers of the Reach, and ahead of you is Illiad and the Captain, Thros.

>Speak to Ser Mason Flowers of the Reach
>Speak to Illiad and Thros

>>42070782
>Speak to Illiad and Thros

>>42070737
Let's speak with Illiad and Thros.

>>42070782
>Speak to Illiad and Thros

Approaching Illiad and Thros as they speak in their native tongue always feels awkward and off for you, they speak as if brothers and you feel ill at ease interrupting them. The Captain is slapping his palm with the back of his other hand and pointing to the port with a look of disgust on his face. Illiad only responds with a small nod and few words before turning to you. “Lord. The Captain says… We are not welcome.”

Illiad had always called you Lord, makings of a childhood of slavery in Myr to a master of dubious living circumstances at present. “What do you mean Illiad? On his ship? Must we swim to shore?” He rolls his eyes in response and begins to piece together a response, the man spoke at least 7 languages but Common was perhaps his worst. “No… In the port. There are… White cloaks. Here. See far.” The Captain hands you his far-glass, an intricate piece of work that you have still yet to figure out entirely. Placing it to your eye and adjusting it for the distance you see what the Captain is speaking of. Two Kingsguard members stand in the port with a cadre of Gold Cloaks as support. The port is otherwise empty except for another man standing with a standard. Black per bend sinister over purple, a golden horse as its charge. The colors of House Malroy. You grunt and close the far-glass handing it back to the Captain, he looks at you expectantly. “Illiad tell the Captain the standard is of my family. We are expected. The ‘white cloaks’ are our escort.” Your third in command nods and breaks into Myrish again assuring the Captain, his face relaxes to a degree but mutters something to Illiad before stalking off shouting orders to his crew.

Illiad sighs and turns back to King’s Landing straining his eyes to make out the details of the city out, “I worry Lord. White cloaks do not show themselves for nothing, no?”

>Assure him of the Kingsguard’s presence
>Admit you’re leery of the situation and to be ready for treachery

>>42071010
>> leery of treachery

>>42071010
>Admit you’re leery of the situation and to be ready for treachery

>>42071010
>Admit you’re leery of the situation and to be ready for treachery

>>42071010
>Admit you’re leery of the situation and to be ready for treachery

Your brow furrows as you process this new information, Kingsguard, either you were being considered a threat or they intend to kill you upon arrival. “No Illiad they do not. But speak not a word to the captain and his crew of this. The last thing we need right now is for them to cause problems.” He nods and scratches at his sword’s pommel, “And of ourselves Lord?”

Truly that was the question, you had grown up alongside your Uncle, he being only a few years older than yourself, but you hardly knew the man he must be now. Surely to have survived the Rebellion when all others in your family died he must have made some deal? This entire situation reeked of betrayal and you ill liked it. You crack your jaw and grit your teeth before responding, “We ready ourselves Illiad. Tell the other Sons to dress, should we meet treachery upon these shores I shall not find myself with a sword buried in my gut without taking a few of the bastards with me.”

“Your words, my hands Lord.”

Illiad fleets off into the bowels of the ship, patting Ser Mason as he goes by and whispering words to him quickly. He stands to attention, nods in your direction and follows after Illiad. As they leave you note Victus and Solhas passing by them, the latter speaking to Illiad as briefly as before but in the tongue of the Summer Isles to spare your son who looks at the two confused. Solhas approaches you already fully garbed for a fight as he usually was. The Summer Islander stood nearly a taller than you and dwarfed your son who took his place by your side smiling up at the giant. “Brynden. The horses are restless, they know land is near. But now they smell fear in the Sons, they pull and strain. I hope you know what you’re doing.” He fidgets with his bow but looks down at you with a slight unease in his eye.

>Ask him what is bothering him so
>Tell him to calm himself lest he frighten the rest of them

As a note my responses will be a bit more delayed now. I typed up the first few to get the ball rolling and now I'm just going with our flow.

>>42071318
>>Ask him what is bothering him so

>>42071318
Calm himself, but be polite.

>>42071318
>>Ask him what is bothering him so

>>42071318
>>Ask him what is bothering him so

>>42071318
>Ask him what is bothering him so

The tide has begun to calm mildly allow you a sturdier foothold on the deck of the ship, she was a beautiful piece of work in truth. Illiad had spoken highly of the ships made in Myr but he often did so with many goods made in Myr, barring slaves of course. Solhas breaks his gaze from yours with a deep sigh, crossing his arms behind his back and looking to the port. “What ails you Solhas? I know it not to be the sea, you’re the only man in the Sons to actually enjoy these trips.” Nodding slowly he turns back to you, breaking his usually stone cold facade he reminds you of a small detail of us past.

“A Lady Lannister sits by this new King’s side, no? If a messanger could find you in the middle of the Free Cities for summons to King’s Landing, what does that say of their knowledge of my grandfather?” This was of course a conversation you’ve had a few times with the man, Solhas Za Tarbeck. The most unlikely of all sons, sired of a man half Tarbeck and Norvoshi and a woman of the Summer Isles. His grandfather had been banished to Essos thirty years prior to the Reyne-Tarbeck Rebellion, though this did not stop him from meeting his death upon return, screeching for Tywin Lannister’s head. You place a hand on your dear friend’s shoulder, reaching a fair amount to do so, “We have spoke of this Solhas, you do not know their words. You do not know their lineage. You are a Tarbeck in name only. Grandson to a disgraced lowly cousin. Calm your heart, should they know you had nothing to do with their Rebellion. And if it comes to it I shall petition your pardon alongside mine own and take you into my Household. Safely away from the claws of the lions. A suitable solution?”

“Should we not find quarrels in our faces and swords at our necks first,” he replies not breaking his gaze with you. “Should we not indeed. But calm yourself my friend, we’ve a long day ahead of us. See to Illiad and Ser Mason, you know they are dreadful with the horses.”

“As you wish my friend,” and with that he leaves. In honesty you had no idea if they knew of Solhas or his family and you did take a risk bringing him alongside you. But you would not deny your friend the chance, and it was unlikely he would have allowed it either. Turning to face the sea again with only your son for company you stand in quiet wait.

>Skip to taking shore in King’s Landing?
>Speak with someone else on the ship?

>>42071789
Let's talk with Ser Mason Flowers, see what his deal is.

>>42071789
>Skip to taking shore in King’s Landing?

>Tarbeck
That's a dick move OP.

>>42071789
Talk to the wife and see what she thinks of all of this

>>42071789
Skip

>>42071833
It's like we have our own Brown Ben Plumm! What fun!

>>42071858
Technically Victus' last name is Waters. And Brynden very rarely if ever speaks it. Take from that as you will.

>>42071833
A House full of traitors to the realm couldn't not include a distant member of one of the dumbest House's to formerly exist. Though in truth, I hit random on the Wiki and that was what I landed on. It was beautiful.

>>42071820
I'll do a short post with Ser Mason leading into us landing. Acceptable?

As you draw nearly to the port the mass of people begin to turn into individual splotches, standing still and ready. Your own men, The Sons of Gold begin to form up alongside you. Swords on their sides, double curved bows in their hands at the ready, a small company of twenty all former members of the Second Sons that left their contract to follow you and some of your closest allies. Many were freeriders from Essos, a few from Westeros and another hedge knight beside Mason. Ser Mason pushed his way through your assembled men, “Lord Brynden. The Sons are ready, Illiad has instructed them to keep their bows ready for your command.”

You look your cadre of men over with a certain fondness, you taught men of these men to ride in proper Westeros fashion. Skilled with war lances on the charge, and of a circular flanking maneuver that rained a hail of steel upon a trapped enemy unit, a certain pride of your family. “Thank you Ser Mason, but I am no lord yet. You know this.”

“Of course I do. But I know you, and you’ll figure out a way to cheat the Crown out of the bloody golden circles on their heads if they let you at it,” a deep baritone tone giving him a distinct voice and laugh. “So long as we escape with our heads I shall be alright to a circle of twigs as my prize.Though that speaks nothing to your own Ser Mason. Please do keep your cock in your pans around the royal family, I’ve doubts they’d be as forgiving as the Hightowers for deflowering one of their daughters.”

“That was not my fault. She seduced me away from my post, how was I supposed to know?” In return you laugh, and he breaks laughing alongside you. “You’ve my word Brynden. Unless they start it.”

You shake your head and fix upon your targets, two Kingsguard men standing with an inhuman stillness, your Uncle attempting to hold still under the weight of the banner. This still tastes of deception to you.

>Order your men to form up along the ship’s stern, bow at the ready?
>Order them to stand down and wait for your order?

>>42072207
>>Order them to stand down and wait for your order?

>>42072207
>>Order your men to form up along the ship’s stern, bow at the ready?

>>42072207
> Stand Down and wait for our order.

>>42072207
>Order them to stand down and wait for your order?

And deception and treachery it may be, but you had no true inclination for a fight immediately upon landing. Waving Ser Mason off he gives the order to form up behind you, but to stand down though ready for an order. Iliad and Solhas take up their places behind you and Victus squeezes in beside you, not out of place but certainly not in one either. Your breath almost caught as you heard the order from one of the Kingsguard members for the Gold Cloaks to form up, and you believe you heard the word crossbows in there as well. You had little doubt they wouldn’t bring some, but if a fight did break out or relations with sour your men would be sitting ducks.

Thros leads his ship into port, both sides of a tense situation staring one another down. As the ship comes to rest and the plank is dropped neither relents. You glance at your uncle in between the two Kingsguard, it looks as if he’s trying to talk them down. Your Uncle stiffens to the larger one menacing over him and nods rapidly. Calling a young lady to his side before breaking for the ship at a quick pace.

Clamoring over onto the side of the ship and into full view for the first time in seven odd years you take in the sight of your Uncle who is now helping the young lady with him. He bore little resemblance to the rest of your family, dark of hair and eyes with splotchy skin from a childhood illness. Though dressed a knight, he looked ragged, his eyes heavy from want of sleep. He approaches you swiftly drawing himself in near, stopping within an inch of your ear. “Nephew. Tell your men to disarm. Ser Preston Greenfield has orders from the Crown to relieve you of your weapons and if you do not comply to slaughter you to a man.”

Your eyes widen and a quick glance shows Ser Preston and his friend with their hands on their swords, ready. “Please Brynden I do not wish to see more of my family cut down before my eyes.”

>Relent to your Uncle’s wishes?
>Question the man further before making a decision

>>42072636
>Relent to your Uncle’s wishes?

>>42072636
>>Relent to your Uncle’s wishes?

>>42072636
>>Question the man further before making a decision

>>42072636
Might as well question him.

>>42072636
>Relent to your Uncle’s wishes?

>>42072636
>Relent to your Uncle’s wishes?

Did you mention that you made a horse based lord in A Song of Iron and Hate?

>>42072636
>question the man further before making a decision.


I like how Iron and Hate gave us a naming convention for Game of Thrones quests. The first ones were "Game of Thrones Quest", and "House X Quest", but now we've got "Iron and Hate" , "Gold and Sand", and "Revenge and Gold"

Having finally drawn yourself together you stare at your Uncle with a heavy gaze. You disliked this immensely, to be disarmed as a sellsword in Essos was to leave yourself exposed. Entirely and truly. But circumstances did not allow for the lessons you learned across the Narrow Sea to live this day. His eyes implored you further but slacked with relief when you slowly nodded and waved off your men. Ser Mason seemed just as discontented by this course of action as yourself but gave the order of which Illiad repeated in a few other languages for effect. Your Uncle waved to Ser Preston and he released grip of his sword and gave a stiff order to the Gold Cloaks behind him.

“You had to bring sellswords didn’t you? Couldn’t just come alone, no you had to act as an impulsive child and seek to bring further doom upon this House,” your Uncle admonishes you his whisper harsh. “Not to mention you bring a Tarbeck and some rapist at your side. Are you fucking mad nephew?” Worry tinges into your eyes, somehow they already knew, your entire company must have been profiled by some far flung spy in Essos or one of them betrayed you for a sum of gold. Your Uncle draws your attention again, “Here, put this on and cover your head.” The young lady behind him draws forth a large dark cloak with a hood. “The bloody last thing we need is for someone to see that damnable hair of yours and start something in the streets.”

The young lady draws next to you and drapes the cloak over your shoulders to no resistance on your part, you relent again and pull the hood over your face, obscuring any traces of what might be. Victus for all the cursing holds strong next to you for an eight year old and gives the woman a steady gaze that returned with a gentle smile. Your Uncle draws away upon the sounds of plated foot climbing onto the ship and surrounding your men. “They’ve agreed to relieve themselves of their weapons Ser Fredrick, no further issues need be had.”

The man in charge grunts at your Uncle, “Then your presence is no longer need Ser Dontos. Await on shore.” Your Uncle nods at you and leaves in a hurry. Your men are mostly disarmed by now, a small pile collecting on the deck. “Brynden Malroy, Solhas Za Tarbeck and Ser Mason Flowers of the Reach you are to come with myself and Ser Preston Freenfield to the Red Keep.” Having little other option you nod and give an order to Illiad before departing, “Stay with the men, wherever they are taken and keep them in line.” Your man smiles and nods gathering them to himself. Ser Mason and Solhas have already been escorted from the ship and you follow after with Victus clutching to your hand in tow.

“Brynden Malroy, your presence has been requested by an anonymous Lord of the Crownlands upon your arrival. Myself and Ser Dontos shall take you there immediately.” Ser Preston speaks to you in a gruff tone before turning away. and marching off. Leaving little choice but for you to follow. You have a moment of time to question your Uncle or perhaps Ser Preston as you travel through King’s Landing to the Red Keep.

>Question your Uncle?
>Question Ser Preston?

Sorry for that delay, thought I might have lost my audience.

>>42073038
I did not actually. Strange how that happened.

>>42073187
I knew someone else had used Gold, bloody hell. It is an important detail of this quest so I won't change it but that does bother me.

>>42073384
>>Question Ser Preston?
How's it feel? Serving in an up jumped mockery of the Kingsguard? Don't say just think really really hard at him.

>>42073384
>Question Ser Preston?

That's the guy who beat Sansa isn't it? What a good fellow to be escorted by.

>>42073384
>>Question Ser Preston?
Man our Uncle is kind of a dick.

>>42073534
One of many, though Arys at least didn't exactly want to.

>>42073384
>>Question your Uncle?

King’s Landing looked more or less as how you remembered it, winding bustling streets, vendors of every nature and the Gold Cloaks staring you down at every turn. Despite this your attention had turned to Ser Preston Greenfield. The name was unknown to you, perhaps a Knight of the Westerlands or the Stormlands come latched upon the teat of their new King? Given office over those truly worthy such as Ser Barristan Selmy no doubt. He disgusted you. Yet provided an interesting chance to speak with someone who might know more of King’s Landing and the Crownlands at present than your Uncle.

“Tell me Ser Preston Greenfield. From where does your family hail?” your voice breaks the silence, your Uncle giving you an incredulous look as if you’ve lost your mind.

As gruff as ever he indulges you, albeit shortly, “The Westerlands.”

You were right on one account then, your Uncle has taken to glowering at you attempting to will your mouth shut by sorcery no doubt. “And what brings you here so far from home Ser Preston of the Westerlands?”

“In service of King Robert I Baratheon, to keep the King’s Peace, and quell any sight of dragons that may lurk.”

You wished to ask him of his service to the mockery of a Kingsguard but refrained lest your Uncle killed you in the streets, “A noble aim Ser. Tell me, of the Crownlands, do such beasts still exist?”

“No. And seahorse, clawed beast, plowman, griffon, or golden horse that may have been alongside them fallen into line as well.”

Well that speaks true to the nature of the Crownlands, put into line by this new King. No open rebellion for the true and rightful King. You had little else to ask knowing the answers to any truths would be held from you.

Upon arrival to the Red Keep Ser Preston dismisses your Uncle and son alongside him. Victus for all his worth resists the attempt. “Father I don’t want to go with him. I don’t want to be alone here.” Quelling your son’s fears you ease him into your Uncle’s arm, “Be brave Victus. I will return to you in short order. I promise you that.” Ser Preston brings you to a high tower and instructs you to enter the third door upon the third floor and that he will be standing guard here. A simple instruction that leads you to a lavish room, wine and fruit upon the table and a plump bald man waiting by it. “Come, sit Lord Brynden Malroy, we’ve much to speak of before tomorrow.”

>Sit with the strange man
>Remain standing and distrustful

Hang on, I think I missed something. What's wrong with our hair?
>>42073992
>Sit with the strange man

>>42073992
>>Sit with the strange man
And who might you be ser?

>>42073992
Stand.

>>42073992
>Sit with the strange man

>>42074054
I assume it's colored. In that one nation that I'm drawing a blank on its name, most people dye their hair. Daario was part of the second sons, right?

>>42073992
>>Sit with the strange man

>>42074054
Might be silver like the Targ's? Or just dyed like those of Pentos or something.

>>42073187
And still no HDW.
I guess HDW is slowly becoming a meme in GoT quests.

I wonder what Varys wants from us. I don't think we have any thing to offer him.

>>42074140
What's HDW?

>>42074140
Hey there is still this quest for HDW. Don't lose faith yet brother!

>>42074145
Loyalty to the Targs. That is all he wants.

>>42074145
Varys loves the Dragons. So he probably wants us in his network of little birdies.

This quest is doomed. GoT quests are cursed.

>>42074153
Hot Dornish Wife.
It started as an in-joke in Princely's quest and from there snowballed into something like asking "Is that a FAMAS?" everytime someone post a bullpup type rifle on /k/, or any type of rifle.

>>42074235
Iron and hate is still going

The schedule is a bit wonky, but he's still running.

>>42074121
>>42074130
Alright lads, thanks.

>>42074153
Hot Dornish Wife. An evanescent treasure that GoT PC's have sought for years, but never even seen

Though leery you sit, eyes fixed upon the man in a death gaze. "Eat Lord Malroy, I pray your travels went well?" He himself picks a strawberry and dips it in sugar before consuming it whole and gesturing for you to join. “Well enough,” you reply your look side long and mistrusting of the food before you. “Come my Lord, if I meant to poison you I would not do so with the help of the Kingsguard, inept men as they are.” He washes this thought down with a glass of wine and offers you the same and you relent, your hunger and thirst gaining the better of you.

Sweet figs, oranges, and a petite lemon fill your citrus starved body, and the wine washes it down with sweet abandon. It was rare to eat such delicacies in the Free Cities. “You know of me Ser, but who are you?” he question in between bites.

“I am no Ser my Lord but it is kind of you to say so,” he replies his tone feminine, “I am Lord Varys, perhaps you’ve heard of me?” You stop dead and stare at the man, the Spider, the former King’s spymaster, loyal to the new King now? Your head spins in confusion and he takes note of this before continuing. “Yes the one and the same my lord. Forever in service to the realm, as I assume you are?”

You do not respond, you thought treachery upon the docks but this felt more real something was wrong. No weapon upon your person you considered strangling Lord Varys, you could take a fat eunuch if the Unsullied guards you fought were any indication. “Calm the wrath in your eyes my Lord. I mean you no harm. I bring you a gift in fact.” From his chest he withdraws a braid of hair, silvered and beautiful, unharmed, untouched by war, “A trophy of the Sack of King’s Landing I’m afraid my lord, but one that belongs with its family. Your sister perished along with your lady mother I’m afraid, but not before they cut this from her head in hopes of pleasing our new King. Unfortunate and nasty business that.” He holds it out to you, your ears burn under the cloak, and your blood yearned to take this cruel trophy and hold it close to your own hair, give it safety.

>Accept his gift?
>Question him?

>>42074363
>>Accept his gift?
>>Question him?
Why? Who? Where are they now? Will they be missed?

>>42074363
TIME TO MAKE STANNIS WORK FOR HIS TITLE AS WESTEROS #1 TEETHGRINDER.
>Grind them Brynden, grind them all.

>>42074421
This
>>42074363

>>42074363
AW SHIT, WE A DRAGON!

Our family must have been a great house before the rebellion, for the sisterfuckers to marry off one of their kin. Our lands are obviously gonna be vastly reduced and damaged by war, so we got to build them up again. Ideas for it? Horse archers is a given, obviously.

>Accept his gift?

>>42074363
Swallow the anger and ask some questions. we need info.

>>42074496
I like the idea of bringing unconventional tactics to Westeros, especially against those rebel fuckers.

>>42074421
This

“Questions any man in your position would be sure to ask my lord. But ones I am not of right to give answer to,” he sips from his cup again, eyes level with yours. “I would suggest asking your Uncle. For he was the captain of your guard in your family’s villa no?” Your mind snaps to your Uncle, Dontos was a faithful man. Though you never quiet got along with him he would never give up your family, not with such ease.

“Now my lord, in exchange for such a gift I must ask a favor of you.”

You hand still clutched the braid thumb stroking it as if to quell its fear, “And what is that Lord Varys?”

“I only ask of you to bend the knee. Your family like the Celtigars, Darrys, or Velaryons will be invited back into the King’s Peace, you will swear fealty to the crown and accept any and all penalties imposed upon you and your house,” he takes another strawberry and nimbles upon it diligently, “Your family stands to lose much my lord. And the reparations handed down will be steep. Lord Baelish has spoken of numbers reaching into 5000 gold dragons.”

So that was the game, you were to be given your House and a chance to live, but saddled with such debt as to never be a threat again. “How will I ever pay such a sum my lord?”

“By returning a gift my lord.”

Thinking to the braid you shake your head no immediately, “No my lord. An older one. But not to the crown, from it. If records serve correct the King once gift your family with the hand of a Targaryen of one of the many branches and with it a dowry of a fossilized dragon egg, black with swirls of scarlet, yes?”

A mere rumor, something you had heard many times before but never gave thought to, “I own no such egg Lord Varys.” This ruffles the man slightly and he frowns, “A pity then. Well if you should ever find one my lord, please do contact me immediately.”

A knock upon the door interrupts your conversation, “My lord would you be so kind as to open that?”

>Open the door?
>Allow them to let themselves in?
>Specific questions for Varys while doing either?

For a sense of scale, 5000 gold dragons is 25 Wealth, with interest of course and monthly payments will be expected.

>>42074857
>Tell him to go fuck himself. Oh wait he cant, but he can open his own damn door.

>>42074857
>>Allow them to let themselves in?
Why? Why not just kill me and those like me?

>>42074857
>Allow them to let themselves in?

My only frame of reference is iron and hate, but 25 wealth doesn't seem like it would do too much damage. We could pay it off within a few years, assuming the interest rates aren't too high. This depends on our lands, I doubt we would have any obvious ways of getting wealth. The deal is good, seeing how our only other option is to get killed.

>>42074857
>Allow them to let themselves in?

>>42075051
Iron and Hate has some ridiculous infrastructure as it stands. You will be starting with considerably less, thus the reason I pre-genned the House. This was meant to be more of a challenge initially.

Writing right now, regardless.

You choose to remain sitting, leading Varys to a heavy sigh and a call to the door, “Dearest Elionwy, you may enter.” The door opens with slight creak and a young lady slips in closing it quickly. You only glance at her before returning your gaze to Varys, still with the heat of revenge slipping into. “But why Lord Varys?” you question and take drink offered from the young lady’s hand.
“But why what my lord?” he responds doing much of the same, he nods to her with a pleasant smile and she begins to fidget with a chest behind him.

“Why not kill my line? Why seek me out at all in fact when my Uncle would have likely made the easier pawn?”

Lord Varys gives you a half lidded eye in return, “My lord, do you truly think me capable of murder? I am but a humble servant of the realm.” Sipping from his cup he continues, “As is my dear Elionwy despite her disability. Perhaps you had noticed my lord but the young lady behind me is of Myr. A former slave in fact like your Illiad. Though unlike your man of many tongues she is of none. A mute my lord.” She returns to his side with a vial of black liquid and hands it to him before withdrawing to a safe distance behind.

“I am loathe to ask again my lord. But as I am but a servant of the realm, I take it you are a man of it no?” Shaking the small vial he places it on the table between you, “And as a man of the realm you will recognize your King, bend your knee and swear fealty to him?”

You sit in quiet thought, though anger boils you keep it stored deep away in your gut, “And if I am Lord Varys, what would you have me do?”

“I would have you do nothing. My dearest Elionwy will however take this vial, and dye your hair black, not unlike your Uncle. As to pacify the King further. And then, to protect the one who aided you so, you will take her under your employ.” You give her a full look, she is familiar you think, but not entirely to your eye in the dark tower. “You will find her a capable Steward my lord, and I do imagine a man such as yourself would enjoy the comforts of a woman from Essos in his house. So Lord Malroy, do we have a deal?”

>Deal. (Dye your hair, promise to swear fealty)
>No deal. (Leave your hair silver, face the King in your own way)

>>42075346
Can't we just wear a helmet or something? I think we'd be shaming our house if we dye our hair

>>42075346
>>Deal. (Dye your hair, promise to swear fealty)

The Kingdom can't be taken over in a day, it's best to accept and quietly build up our shit.

>>42075346
I agree but will not dye my hair. That would be an insult to those who have died. If the rat king wants me dead then fuck him. He is not my true king.

>>42075377
Also, this was for 'No deal'

>>42075346
>Deal. (Dye your hair, promise to swear fealty)
I'd like to leave a lock silver, buts that's just me.

>>42075377

You intend to wear a helmet at every waking hour, when dealing with those you may not be able to determine the standing of?

Besides that, black hair and green eyes are common in your family. Silver hair and to a lesser extent purple eyes show up very rarely. Your sister and yourself are an even rarer occurrence. It would bring no shame, rather just be of the norm. Personal shame though? Perhaps.

>>42075425
We can wear the helmet when we bend the knee, then take it off once he accepts.

>>42075346
>>Deal. (Dye your hair, promise to swear fealty)

>>42075417
I'd get behind this. But wear our sister's braid on our belt as well maybe?

>>42075417
I would allow this. Small show of defiance, not like the Targaryens were any less petty.

>>42075519
I had intended for you to wear your sisters braid in fact. Its existence is incredibly personal for Brynden.

>>42075555
Any way we can get bios for us and those close to us?

>>42075575
Yes actually. I have them, a full history of the House, and holdings already written up. I will be posting them at the end of the thread.

Anyway, it looks like a Deal. And I'll allow the single lock to remain.

>>42075346
Deal with the Spider.

>>42075610
Will we also get to see Brynden's character sheet, or will we have to figure it out over play?

>>42075051
If you look at Karban and William lands, yeah 25 wealth is nothing.
Look at Bracken's and it becomes a lot harder since most of the wealth needs to be mined.
Harrock's Dante Must Die mode.

I'm not familiar with the other quests, except Iron and Hate. How were the temperments of the MCs in those quests?

You chew this thought over, your jaw cracks sharply and your grind your teeth before responding as the answer felt wrong on many levels. “I accept Lord Varys. Though it pains me to do so.”

“As would be expected my lord, though your answer pleases me none the less. Elionwy will escort you to your chambers for the night. Within King’s Landing she is not known and will fit into your… Retainers with quiet ease. Pray do take care of her, she is the kindest of dears.” He says this whilest taking her hand and patting it in a loving way before rising from the table and gesturing for you to do the same, place the vial in your hands. “My lord regardless of what you hear tomorrow it is a pleasure to have you and your family within the realm again. I do hope we will meet again, under more agreeable and profitable terms. But for now, I bid you goodnight. I’ve no doubt you have much to speak of with your dear Uncle.”

The Spider leaves the room before you with a soft grace, shutting the door behind him. You’ve only yourself and your new mute stewardess for company. And the resounded sounds of quiet and discontent. “Come, Elionwy was it? I would see my Uncle before I slept.” She nods to you closing her almond eyes in doing so, a pleasant gesture. And takes your arm, leading you out of the tower that Ser Preston was supposedly standing guard over.

You arrive in your room in small order, your thoughts on the many things you must do in the coming days, but more immediately to your Uncle. Had he truly betrayed your family? His own brother’s children? Why would he seek you out if it was true? Perhaps, finish the job and take claim himself? Disgusting thoughts. But a possible reality regardless. Elionwy of Myr palms at your door and you push at it easing yourself and her into the room. The sudden light of the sunset gives you enough to recognize her. She was the woman that aided your uncle and shrouded you in your dark cloak. Varys’ truly did have eyes everywhere, and you began to have second thoughts of accepting her into your household. Though pleasant to look at with fullness in her hips and breast, and an olive skin soft and unmarred you remained dubious to her real loyalties.

Though more so of the man before you. The man waiting in your room with your son who stood in a corner, while your Uncle brooded over a table. “Nephew… Who… Truly? You cannot wait more than a day to fuck some whore from Essos?”

You’ve had enough of your Uncle’s tongue. He insults your men, scares your son, and insults you with wild abandon. This was to come to an end.

>Punch your Uncle in the damn face
>Take a more subtle and demeaning approach, asking questions while allowing Elionwy to dye your hair in front of him

>>42075764
Yes actually. But you will all hate me for it. It's safe to say diplomacy isn't his strong suit being born a second son expected to become no more than a knight of the household. And then the large stint over in Essos. Spoiler, Brynden can't read.

>>42075918
> can't read
you dick. you magnificent dick.

>>42075918
Explain exactly why you need to punch his bitch face, and then punch it.

>>42075842
>Karban's in it for the money, and the bitches, mainly for the money.
>William's in it for the revenge, and the money.
>Artys' in it for it's children.
>Bracken's in it for justice in his land, and maybe grab a bitch once the justice is served.

>>42075918
>Brynden can't read.
Guess, we'll have to buy a maester 1st thing this month.
Our son can read I hope?

>>42075918
>>Take a more subtle and demeaning approach, asking questions while allowing Elionwy to dye your hair in front of him

>>42076025
Poor Artys Harrock. I mean, literally, poor. He is very poor.

File: The fookin legend.jpg (34 KB, 448x593)

34 KB JPG

>>42075918
>>Punch your Uncle in the damn face
I was a fookin legend in Tyrosh alley

>>42075842
As a point.
Goal: Justice
Motivation: Family
Virtue: Courageous
Vice: Vengeful

Brynden depending upon actions may have a heavily skewed idea of what Justice means though.

>>42075932
As a bonus though Illiad taught you another language in your travels with him. You've the basics of it.

>>42076076
Maester Benjin will see to the task upon your arrival in Steadhold.

>>42076025
I mean, how do they act? /tg/ is the incapable of roleplaying, I was just wondering if they all act exactly the same, like you'd expect.

>>42075918
Pretty much this, >>42076018

Alright then looks like we're channeling Harrock and punching our Uncle in the damn face.

Writing up now.

Who do we hate more, the Baratheons the Lannisters?

>>42076220
Karban was a silver tongued golden boy, anything he'd touch would start making money. Bitches would throw themselves at him and he was a pretty cool guy.

Artys is somewhat the oldest of the MC, although Bracken's MC might either be close or older. Don't piss him off, he'll fuck you up.
He's been a shit father but he tries his best, sadly he's Lamenter tier of bad luck so shit keeps pilling.

>>42076410
What's the difference? Fuck em both into the Seven Hells.

>>42076410
Pretty sure we hate every house that fought for the rebels.

>>42076561
I dunno, once we find out the Starks tried to stop the Crownlands from getting super-fucked we might have some respect for them.

>>42076220
You'd be surprised actually. Karban and Artys were played completely differently.

Your anger courses, come to a peak. But your facade is that of a man turned down, dejected, one with little and less to care for. “Elionwy, would you please take my son outside for a moment. He likes the horses. And has a sweet tooth, if you would be so kind as to indulge him for a moment while I speak with my Uncle.” The lady nods to you in a graceful manner taking your scared son by the hand, you ruffle his hair lightly as he passes with a smile that brightens his face. But as the door shuts you turn to a deep glower. You remove the braid of hair from your chest pocket and place in upon the table your uncle has yet to look up from.

“Tell me Uncle. Whose hair is this?” he glances at it, eyes gone wide before steeling himself. “Another lock of your damnable mess no doubt. Some small luck your bloody bastard didn’t inherit it.” You crack your jaw and look him over, he was a man haunted no doubt and an awful liar further. “Take another look Uncle.” His head does not move to the table but to your eyes meeting your gaze where he find one of true wroth upon him. “Nephew you do not-”

Before he finishes you jab in square in the nose, sending the man reeling in his chair. You catch his fall by the scruff of his neck and ground his face into the table giving him full view of the braid so wrongfully torn from your sister’s head. “WHO UNCLE. TELL ME WHO!”

“Isis’...” he sobs out, his nose obviously broken as his spirit. “They tore it from her head as they raped her in the villa. They slit your mother’s throat after doing the same....” he breaths out in between hysterics.

This new insight gives you further fuel to your fire, “And where were you Uncle! Standing outside counting a fat purse? Hiding in the damn cellar like a fucking coward!?”

“Brynden-” he attempts before you pull him up and press him against the wall he offers no resistance.

“Don’t Nephew me, don’t Brynden me. You bloody fucking coward. You insult my men. You insult my son. You insult me. The last son of your brother, a brother you did nothing to protect,” you deliver a swift punch into his gut and allow him to fall to the ground wheezing as an old man might. You kneel down beside him and roll him over onto his back, pulling the dirk from his belt and pressing it firm against his temple. “Tell me Uncle, where were you.”

“In the room Brynden…” he mutters, “Tied to a chair, my arm broken. Forced to watch your sister and your mother both before being thrown into the dungeons as a prisoner of war.”

He stare at him, deeply, fully. This was no lie he was done accepted death. You remove the blade and regard him again, “Who?”

“Twas your father’s Bannerman, his bastard born son. The now Lord Royce Redward who claims dominion over half our lands. Who has the King’s favor for his ‘valiant quelling of the loyal Malroys’,” he spits up a tooth and a sizable amount of blood, “The man that has taken the family’s heirloom.”

>Help your Uncle up?
>Leave him on the ground?

>Meanwhile ask him of...
>Your mother and sister?
>Your father and two brothers?
>Your House’s former bannerhouse, the Redwards?

>>42076656
>Help your Uncle up?

>ask all of the above

>>42076656
>Help your Uncle up?
Nigga still deserved a good hiding. Runnin' his mouth like that.
>Your House’s former bannerhouse, the Redwards?

>>42076656
>Leave him own the ground

>Your mother and sister?
>Your father and two brothers?
>Your House’s former bannerhouse, the Redwards?

>>42076656
Royce Redward, first of many.
Help him up and ask about our father and brothers, hopefully they escaped the Rebels.

>>42076656
>Help your Uncle up?
>Your House’s former bannerhouse, the Redwards?
Those fuckers better not have stolen a valyrian steel sword.

>>42076656
>Help your Uncle up?

>Redwards

Christ alive, vengeful is right.

>>42076656
Insult me all you want, but you better think twice about insulting my mens and my goddamn son.
Now explain yourself

>>42076656
>Help your Uncle up?

all of:
>>Your mother and sister?
>Your father and two brothers?
>Your House’s former bannerhouse, the Redwards?

Actually explaining Royce Redward will explain your father and brothers as well. I'll just lump those together. Trust me. The guy is a right prick.

Your uncle wheezes and coughs on the ground below you and your anger finally relents. He was your only family left. A broken down man barely 5 years older than yourself who in his small time had seen more shit than you wished possible. You extended your arm to him that he looks at with a leery gaze and you eye in with a turn of the head. Knowing this to be no trick he accepts and you pull him up placing him on his chair before sitting on the table across from him.

“Alright Uncle… Tell me everything. Starting with my mother and sister.”

“You mother Lady Hayford and your sister Isis Malroy were sent by your Lord father to the villa in King’s Landing during the rebellion. Though Steadhold’s walls are strong the castle mighty its placement along the Goldroad and Blackwater Rush made it too easy a target. He thought the capital safer. I was sent as their guardian and away from the Trident where your family marched to.”

“Your father and brother Ser Donold took up arms and called Ser Vance Redward to war as well. They and the entire might of the House marched to the Trident. They were to lead a van of attack under Ser Jon Darry of the King’s Guard. But they were betrayed. Royce had come before the Usurper and told them of your family's horses and the mounted attacks they took and was given command of a unit of crossbowmen to deal with them. They slaughtered them. The van crashed into the flank of the rebel army and broke. Your brother lost his head to a knight of the Riverlands, and your father crushed under a fallen horse crippled. He only made it home by sheer luck of his men finding him and dragging him home. Your younger brother Ser Porstain had been heading the castle’s defenses but only held it by virtue of peasant levies. Not real men.”

“Your father lived but not for very long, he wished for death. Benjin told me many times. But when we heard the Lannister host was marching east, we were relieved, your brother allowed them into the castle and the King into the capital. And that is when it happened. Steadhold was sacked within a day of King’s Landing. The bastard had stolen away into the Lannister ranks and lead an attack on the villa. He was the one who broke my arm, and raped your sister. The Lannister force in Steadhold ransacked the castle and town, the broke what little we had and killed your father and younger brother sending their heads to King’s Landing and hung their bodies from the towers. And when the newly Lorded Royce Redward road north. He took anything else of worth. But that of the most worth.”

Your uncle stops, as you quietly regard him. Your father dead. Brothers dead. Mother and sister, brutalized and dead. “Took what uncle?”

“They took the egg.”

>How do you respond?

>>42077072
Should have been "road west". Mistake worth correcting.

>>42077072
Destroy the room. Scream at the heavens. Yell at the seven.

>>42077072
So the egg is more than just a myth, eh? We'll need to see that it's returned to it's rightful place, either by right or by arms.

Also to break this down in terms of game mechanics. The House's last event was Doom. Before that it was one of the luckiest House's not named Karban. But yeah. Shit got fucked.

>>42077117
>Rode west

>>42077072
Well, time to start plotting.

We could buy some faceless men to kill the Redward heirs, preferably in front of their parents, and petition for their lands when the current lord dies. This would take a long time, and cost a lot, so probably not likely

We could make some home grown faceless men, train a couple guys in stealth, poisons, and archery, then have the Redward ambushed by "bandits". Petition for their lands, due to the lack of heirs.

Last, request that we get the egg back from them. Depending on how Robert's feeling(probably not good), we might get it back.

>>42077072
>"Well shit."

>>42077248
>Robert's feeling
If it's Targ, I must kill it.
And what is the most Targaryen related shit someone could flaunt?

>>42077248
>Being sneaky
How boring. We need to costantly call him out, then call him for trial by combat when someone honourable becomes hand of the King

>>42077483
Obviously that's an option, but we should get a look at the character sheet before we decide to duel with maces and it turns out we only know bows and lances.

Plus, ye olde solid snake

>>42077072
Sigh heavily. We have a lot of work to do.

>>42077516
Time Paradox!!

You calmly stand from your seat and look deeply into your Uncle’s eyes. The man dare not lie to you now, there is more truth here than you would ever know. Picking up the braid of hair you place it neatly near your heart and breathe in deep. And then flip a damn table. Rage and anger were rarely your go to emotions, but today. Today brought out the worst in you. Sundering the table in two with a kick of your boot you curse allowed, damning the bastard to the Seven Hells. And suddenly you feel deflected, you lean against the wall. All the might and strength of a warrior spent on pointless rage and the beating of a man that had been through as much as you had. You slack and fall to a seated position on the floor and a tear rolls down your face. Truth. There was pain. A deep endless pain that you had not known since Lysa had died in the streets of Tyrosh. Leaving yourself and Victus alone in a strange land. But from that pain wroth. A need for justice.
“What do we do Uncle?”

“What do you mean Brynden? There is nothing to be done but you bend the knee and go hide in Steadhold away from the gaze of his accursed city.

You give him a look of disgust, “You know I cannot do that. Justice will be served, if not now. Later, many years from now maybe. But it will be.”

“You mean to fight Lord Royce Redward? He has twice the man power than you. The favor of the bloody King! If you marched upon Red Tower it would truly spell the doom of this House. Over a bloody egg! It’s dead nephew as dead you will be, let him have his prize. They have won.”

Your mind churns, this egg could see you from the debt that you are sure you’ll want to be free of in quick order. Yet your Uncle spoke truth to do so now would be suicide.

“Why does it matter Brynden? It’s a lump of rock ages old now. Your hair is more testament to that myth than anything.”

>Tell your Uncle of Varys’ offer?
>Keep it to yourself for now?

>>42077516
>Plus, ye olde solid snake
Blustering Angry Lord is the best, tbh

>>42077577
>Tell your Uncle of Varys’ offer?
If he's being honest with us, then we should be honest with him.

>>42077577
>>Tell your Uncle of Varys’ offer?

>>42077577
>>Tell your Uncle of Varys’ offer?

>>42077577
>Tell your Uncle of Varys’ offer
Not retaking the egg would spell the doom of this House as well uncle.

>>42077483
>when someone honourable becomes hand of the King
Jon Arryn is pretty honorable, only guy more honorable than him is Ned Stark.

>>42077577
Tel him.

>>42077634
And Ned Stark learned to be honorable from Jon Arryn.

File: Brynden Malroy.pdf (57 KB, PDF)

57 KB PDF

>>42077516

Close but not entirely true.

Here have a character sheet since some people have guess correctly on a few things.

>>42077728
So our uncle isn't even in his 30s? Damn, he's a lot younger than I thought he'd be.

>>42077634
Excellent. We can just whine to Jon Arryn 24/7, provided we end up stationed at King's Landing.
>>42077728
>Longsword Lord
Excellent

>>42077817
Six and twenty. He was the youngest son and only a year and half older than your older. The Malroy's tend to marry young and abide by the heir and spare rule. In truth he's more like an older brother than an Uncle.

File: Greece ball.gif (1.39 MB, 640x400)

1.39 MB GIF

>>42077728
>All purchases cost twice the listed amount
FFFFFF
>PAY DENBT

You sigh deeply and heavily, pulling yourself up and onto the bed. There was work to be done, more than a second son had asked for. But you resolved yourself to it. To your family. And in doing so you must tell you family truth. “Because Uncle… Before I came to you I met Lord Varys.”

“You met that turn cloak? No better than Barristan Selmy, serving the Usurper.”

That was new, more people you had once respected, fallen on low. Regardless you continued, “It was he that gave me the braid Uncle. Told me of what happened and what is to happen tomorrow.” In detail you explained the meeting, the agreement you reached, why Elionwy was with you and will return with you. He nodded along discontent obvious on his face. “But he asked something odd of me. He told me that in return the egg to the Crown we would be relieved of the debts. Our burden unsaddled. We could grow strong once more and retake our land from that bastard.”

“But at what price? Starting a war in the Crownlands? Sullying our name by working with the Spider? Turning to the shadows and working in secret? We are not that House Brynden. And you are not that Lord. I know this to be truth.”

>Deny such, you’ll do whatever it takes
>Agree, if you do this, it will be with honor

>>42077878
That is suppose to only apply to personal purchases I imagine. But for the sake of making this difficult I'm applying it to Wealth Holdings as well. Anything you have now is safe, but future purchases until the debt is paid will be doubled.

>>42077907
>Agree, if you do this, it will be with honor

Hopefully we won't end up like Ned Stark.

>>42077907
>>Deny such, you’ll do whatever it takes
Me or you uncle. Me or you. One of us has to do this. Me or you has to be the dirty one while the other is clean.

>>42077907
>Agree, if you do this, it will be with honor

So, challenge them to a joust for the egg? Seems like the best choice if we want to be honorable and play to our strengths.

>>42077907
Honour

>>42077977

Good eye. I'll throw out two planned events.

Though Robert and Cersei are already married the Tourney held in the weddings honor has yet to be held. You have 6 months until this event.

An unnamed Tourney in an unnamed location occurs sometime between 285-289 AC. For the sake of the story we'll say Highgarden and 286PC. Giving you 2 and half years to prepare.

Choice is yours if that's the route you want to take.

>>42077907
Whatever it takes

And in this he did speak true. You grew up together, the man was more your older brother than Donold was. Squiring in King’s Landing together. Practicing in the Villa’s yard. He knew you, even in years away caused such a rift. “Yes Uncle, you’re right. I would not bring our House so low. We are not shadows hidden away with daggers under our cloak. We’re proud and fierce and loyal. Loyal to our family and that honor.”

Dontos smiles for the first time since you’ve been brought back together. “I knew the young knight was still in there somewhere Brynden. I knew you would see beyond your anger.”

Your conversation turns to Steadhold. It was still a wreck for the most part, he being able to do little while under arrest in the Villa. During this Elionwy and your son return, he bounds over and sits with you on the bed, the lady had found him a disc of candy and given him a piece of black and purple ribbon to tie to his wrist so she knew it was him. Victus seemed fond of her already, and this was a difficult task given how few women he knew in his life. Your Uncle grew quiet around her, not trusting her to report to Varys. She regarded him little, seemingly caring little for his spite and took your cloak that had fallen to the ground in your rage, placing it among your things and withdrawing the vial from its pockets. She looked at you with eyes that spoke more than words and you nodded allowing her to start her work.

“Why are you dying your hair father?”

The truth of it may be too much for the boy, he was not innocent working with the Sons, but Westeros was different. “Because I have begun to grow jealous of Illiad’s blue hair and his golden moustache my son,” you laugh and patting him on the head. Your Uncle sits and broods again, he dislikes your son you know it to be truth, he is named Waters. The only heir to Steadhold is a bastard and himself and that weight is dire.

Elionwy finishes her work as night comes to full realization and hands you a looking glass for you to inspect her work. You notice a streak of silver on the right side of your part, “Elionwy you missed a spot-” she holds a darkened finger to your lips and mouths, ‘No.’ You nod and play along, your small show of defiance. It was not much, but it did you pride well. Dontos had left by now, aiming to clean himself up and drink heavily while Victus slept on the bed meant for you. You turned to Elionwy to thank her and found that she had taken off the fanciful dress earlier, wearing only black stained dress of a rough cotton in its place. It still hugged her tightly enough to show the curves of her body, her long tanned legs moving gracefully as she cleaned herself off, you regarded her with a certain degree of lust in your eyes. An odd emotion to be consumed by as the day ended, but one none the less that rose in your loins. She eyed you careful from across the room and understood what she saw in your eyes but awaited your move seemingly accepting of your decision in this regard.

>Sleep with Elionwy?
>Send her away for the night?

>>42077907
We dream of Dragons. It'll take cunning and savvy to get our vengeance. If we have any chance of taking it, and not leaving it to our children to fulfill, we need to pursue every avenue.

>>42078388
>Send her away for the night?
Not in front of the boy. Think of the children!

>>42078388
Send her away.

>>42078388
>>Sleep with Elionwy?

Rolled 5, 1, 3, 1, 1, 1, 5, 1, 2, 4 = 24 (10d6)

>>42078388
>>Send her away for the night?
Lets not go and get emotionally attached to someone who belongs to the Spider...

>>42078484
more importantly, we don't want Varys to know a potential weak spot after 1 day in Westeros. Make him earn that shit at least.

>Sleep with her
Time for more bastards

>>42078388
>>Send her away for the night?

>>42078388
>>Send her away for the night?

But yet through no small effort on your part you send her away for the night, thanking for her aid in this task. Your body might have grown weak from rage, but your mind had stayed sharp. She was in bed with The Spider, and though that did little for him, it would be an ill advised move for yourself. She dresses with a more appropriate flair and bids you goodnight in her soft and quiet way. Shaking the feelings of lust and want from your mind you move to your bed and shift your son over attempting not to wake him. He snuggles into your side and you sit waiting for sleep to take you.

A family dead. A bastard stealing your lands, your sister and an heirloom that may save what little is left of your family. You would need to marry, rebuild your lands, have trueborn children, breed your family's wealth once more. Twas truly the effort of a Lord you would need to put forth. But before that you would need to bend your knee to this new King. And if that is what tomorrow holds for you, then you shall face it. With more than rage at your back, but the Sons and your shattered family as well.

“Ride unto the Sunset, Victus. Forever we shall ride.”

End Chapter I.

So I hope everyone enjoyed this. It got slow at parts and I tend to be a bit wordy with how I go about things. But I like the feel of a story about the characters not so much the House. After meeting with the King we'll delve into the House and its Fortunes. I do enjoy that part as well and OOSP gives me a lot of fun stuff to work with but it'll be tough. You aren't built for Lording as of right now, you're built for fighting and that may not be the best option right now. I wanted to give this a challenge as opposed to building the perfect Lord for the job.

Anyway in the following posts I'll give out the House stats, the History of the Malroys and your military strength.

File: House Malroy Stats.pdf (52 KB, PDF)

52 KB PDF

The House Malroy stats.

You had some pretty great rolls for events until the last. And got set up with a pretty nice castle for the effort. I thought the big castle would make for a fun back drop to the events, being like Harrenhal where no one can quite put up the money to make it thrive. As you grow it and the town will begin to grow and show life again.

Don't ask me how Law became so awesome. But fuck bandits apparently.

File: HouseMalroy.pdf (347 KB, PDF)

347 KB PDF

This gets a bit lengthy but covers all of the history of the House. If you're interested in how the rolls play to the events it is as so:

Victory - Found of the House after Aegon's Conquest.
Windfall - Marriage to the Targaryen, member of the Kingsguard, dowry of the egg.
Victory - Third and Fourth Rebellions
Doom - Current events

This gets wordy and there are a couple mistakes but I'll fix them when I update it with no information. Also some small spoilers but nothing major.

And lastly your military strength. Which is low currently. The Sons actually take up a big part of it. But they are some next level units in Westeros.

I'll be allowing a lot of upgrades to units like Bordain gets. But you'll have to work for them. Though this is because you will have a limit imposed upon you be the King for your standing strength, what that is depends upon your interactions with him in the coming day.

File: Military Units.pdf (50 KB, PDF)

50 KB PDF

>>42078892
I'm great at posting things.

Also one moment while I set up a twitter.

https://twitter.com/RevengeGoldQM

And here's that. The next thread will very likely take place on Sunday, August 30th, starting at 3PM EST. I work in architecture so my schedule can get weird, but that is the most solid of all of my days.

Yet again, thank you to those who participated. If you have any questions feel free to ask and I'd be happy to respond.

>>42079079
Jesus fuck that is wordy. How did you come up with some of it? Will we get a HDW?

>>42079098
To dream the impossible dream

>>42079134
It it can happen ya? It's not impossible yet right?

>>42079098
I enjoy writing a great deal. Haha I just say down with the wiki one day and went to town. I thought a true and expanded history of a House would make for a more interesting experience.

That said I'm still trying to get my writing tuned in. I tend to devolve as the sesson goes on.

Also, the unnamed Tourney is your only chance for HDW. Make it count.

>>42079282
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-KufFjcWOUQ

>>42079282
You hear that everyone!? The tourney is our only shot!! Make it fucking count for HDW!!!!

Gotta say I like this approach to ASoIaF quest. I might try this sort of pregenned house+character set up if I ever run one.

>>42079319
Had a good chuckle. But we'll see how true that remains.

>>42079336
Believe you me, I want HDW as much as the next guy. I just can't do it in an absolutely convoluted way. Oberyn is a major player in the unnamed Tourney. So Dorne will be there in force. Best and only way I could make it work. But the rest is up to you guys.

>>42079379
Thank you. And yes, it is a fair bit different. I do enjoy House gen threads, but I always felt they gave too much advantage to the players to tailor the perfect situation. This way I could write a story around a specific idea, like the Horses and where loyalties might lie, and keep certain themes that aid the story. Namely Gold and its importance.

And I can pull shit like Brynden not being able to read, which gives me a good laugh.

>>42079567
Yes...the illiteracy thing will never come to bite us in the ass

>>42079708
hopefully Brynden isn't potato tier and will learn his letters before things kick into high gear.

>>42080120
Not quite, he knows enough to get by but a book or letter is beyond him. He just never expected to really need it. The missive Dontos sent? Mason read for him. Who actually happens to be very well learned for a bastard.

It won't be difficult for him to learn spend some time with the Maester and some exp of course.

Illiteracy will not be such a big problem imo. We could get good enough to read letter in six months at most.

The bigger problem is Brynden's personality and strengths. He is obviously a fighter and the worst thing we could do right now is to draw attention by fighting. Things will be hard.