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[Month II, Week iii]

“You look a mite greensick there, Mas. Touch paler than usual, eh?”

“Oh piss off Lucas.”

Victor and Lucas roar with laughter, the latter hadn’t ever experienced Mason’s extreme dislike for the open sea. The Blackwater Bay was choppy this time of year, you remembered as much from your youth, sailing with Donold, Pastorn and your father to Driftmark. He had considered attempting to marry either yourself or Donold to a cousin of the main branch, the match hadn’t been particularly good you knew now but Donold hadn’t particularly done himself any favors with his disregard for the fairer sex in pursuit of more military ideals. You had always wondered why Donold never married in the years you were away from home, at least to create an heir. He was a practical man, not foolish. He knew he was the first-born, the heir. It never quite made sense to you. Suppose it didn’t matter now you think, eyes cast upon the sea to the east.

“It’s good to have you aboard Lord Malroy, how does the sea treat you?” Ser Jon Longwaters says as he approaches, heavy boots upon the deck of his Oakenfist, the old dromon shuddered and creaked as it fight through the waves but it was a formidable, a capable warship as far as you could tell at least. House Lognwater’s colors were proudly displayed upon the the three sails, shields upon the bulwark representing both his own House and sworn swords and those that you had brought as well.

“A fair touch better than my old friend,” you respond with a laugh, clapping Ser Jon on the shoulder and taking his extended hand with a smile upon your lips, “And Jon, it’s Brynden, you know that. And again. Thank you for providing ship to Wendwater and the invitation. Are your men excited for the Tourney?”

“Very. I’ve only a handful of Knights, Ser Haldan Rambton, Jorod Blackberry, Donnell Waters. Good men all. Your own?”

“Mason, Victor, Lucas, obviously,” you rattle off flicking your fingers, “Couldn’t resist bringing a few of the men from the Melee as well. Ser Jon Pryor, Jon Pyle, Titus Sarsfield, Duncan Ureye, and Aden Brune.”

“Does Ser Dontos intend to compete?”

You shrug slightly, again casting eyes to the sea, “Unknown as of now. He insisted upon coming when I told him that Victus would be joining me.”

The truth of it was you absolutely refused to leave Victus behind. The two of you hadn’t spent the sort of time together that you had wished in the past few months. With the wedding looming large in your mind and all that would bring. Steadhold would be filled to the brim with those you needed to entertain and mingle and… Attempt to not actively dislike. At least your sister would be home you remember and a warmth fills your chest.

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Lucas had received an invitation from Lord Wendal Wendwater about a month ago, he had explained when the idea came up to take some time away from Steadhold prior to the wedding and the next few months thereafter, the Invasion of the Princewood looming heavily in your mind, might be good for you and your men. Take some aggression out, work out the kinks, keep everyone fresh and ready for the war upon the horizon.

As it happened Lord Wendwater’s youngest sister had been Lucas and Jon’s mother, she had passed giving birth to their own sister some years back, a fact he rarely spoke of. Jon had maintained a somewhat decent relationship with his uncle, and his cousin Ser Weldon Wendwater had been insistent the both of them attend. Lucas decided however to make an event of it, proposing to hold a ‘stag party’, your last hoorah before marriage took you. Lady Racheal Conklyn hadn’t been fond of the idea herself you learned later when a red faced Lucas sheepishly entered your solar the night after proposing the idea during dinner. You hadn’t been particularly interested in the idea of the stag party itself the other excuses to get out a bit and forget the worries of home if only for a few weeks had been tempting and here you were. Upon the open sea with a cadre of men of varying marital status’ and all rearing for a fight. The Tourney was to include a joust, melee, squire’s melee, an archery contest, and varying other events. Jon had told you that Lord Wendwater was hosting a delegation of Stormlanders, specifically Lord Ralph Buckler, the Lord of Bronzegate. A marriage proposal was in the works you had surmised with the Knight of Longhall but it wasn’t quite your business regardless. What was your business was the prize for the archery contest, a solid thousand dragons. Mason and Lucas had both expressed interest in the Joust and Melee, three thousand and two thousand dragons respectively.

Ser Jon stands in silence alongside you for a moment later before chuckling at Lucas and Victor’s prodding of Mason and taking leave of you to disperse his brother and your Knight and leaving Mason to his vomiting. You glance about the deck and notice Victor, Arron Qorgyle, Edmund Pryor, and Grant Conklyn taking their midday meal together. Dontos, your uncle, was practicing with who you presumed was Ser Jorod Blackberry. A couple of your Knights were about as well, Jon Pryor and Duncan Ureye meeting with Lucas Longwaters.

Who to talk to?
>Your son, Victus Waters, and the squires, seeing what sort of nonsense they've gotten into or plan to be getting into.
>Your uncle, Ser Dontos Malroy as he practices.
>Your Knights, Ser Lucas Longwaters, taking your midday meal with them.
Alright so this is going to be a flashback thread, happening between the Melee of Steadhold and the Wedding. I needed to find all of the character's voices again and figured this would be a good way to do it. The next thread will be us returning.

>>1293418
>Your son, Victus Waters, and the squires, seeing what sort of nonsense they've gotten into or plan to be getting into.

>>1293418
>Your Knights, Ser Lucas Longwaters, taking your midday meal with them.

>>1293418
>Your son, Victus Waters, and the squires, seeing what sort of nonsense they've gotten into or plan to be getting into.

>>1293418
>Your son, Victus Waters, and the squires, seeing what sort of nonsense they've gotten into or plan to be getting into.

So glad to see you run Father!

>>1293418
>>Your son, Victus Waters, and the squires, seeing what sort of nonsense they've gotten into or plan to be getting into.
Sucks I'm gonna have to leave in like an hour though dad.

>Your son, Victus Waters, and the squires, seeing what sort of nonsense they've gotten into or plan to be getting into.

Good afternoon Father. And a very special get gud to everyone else

>>1293399
>Your uncle, Ser Dontos Malroy as he practices.

Hey fader during the Sack of Kingslanding did Dontos kill any high born knights or squires or whatever. Just like yes or no cause I got a follow up.

>>1293489
Dontos wasn't at kingslanding.

>>1293496

This He was delivering Lemons to house Reddoor.

>>1293505
Oh so he was in Dorne then. Fuck so who was defending Masons mom and sister? The servants?

>>1293505
Yeah he was picking lemons in bravos

>>1293514
No one. That was kinda the point and how our mother got raped and murdered and our sister kidnapped and raped.

>>1293517
While Dontos was in the room, with his arms broken, because he was there guarding them.

Or am I completely misremembering this?

>>1293515
>“Seven hells, this place is damp,” she heard her guard complain. “I’m chilled to the bones. Where are the bloody orange trees? I always heard there were orange trees in the Free Cities. Lemons and limes. Pomegranates. Hot peppers, warm nights, girls with bare bellies. Where are the bare-bellied girls, I ask you?”

>“Down in Lys, and Myr, and Old Volantis,” the other guard replied. He was an older man, big-bellied and grizzled. “I went to Lys with Lord Tywin once, when he was Hand to Aerys. Braavos is north of King’s Landing, fool. Can’t you read a bloody map?”

>>1293514
Brynden not Mason.

>>1293522
Your misremembering it. And it Was BRYNDEN not Mason's mom and sister.

>>1293530
I know m8. In the book dany thought the house with the red door was in bravos, but she remembers a lemon tree

>>1293531
Oh yeah shit he was the first one mentioned today got me all confuzzled

>>1293522
Dontos made that story up. To cover up both his fighting abilities not being what they use to, his grief over failure and what had been lost, and due to orders given to him.

Dontos had been told that Isis and Esemella Hayford were dead so he thought his secret was safe and the story would hold up. No Dontos broke his arm on Dragonstone while fighting to keep the Targaryen children safe.

The only man of note that Dontos killed during the Rebellion was before he was recalled to the Crownlands and it was when he was fighting under Mace Tyrell's command and he fought Lord Benson Bolling, killing him while on horseback.

Anyway, update in half a moment.

>>1293542
Bolling eh? Looked 'em up and this a Creighton Longbough where he says he killed the Ser but there's no reasonable way to find out if it's true? His Ser Dontos strong in the tourney but craven in the field?

>>1293452
>>1293489
dude, don't samefag we can see it

>>1293600
Yeah sorry i was quoting it so I'd have a lead in for my question. My bad, looks bad. Don't count that one Father my bad my bad.

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“What do you whisper of my son?” you ask crossing the deck to where the boys were seated. Arron Qorgyle and Edmund Pryor look at you sheepishly, Grant Conklyn, the eldest among them allows a cocksure smile to stay upon his face, one that Victus is thrown into a fit of laughter over.

“Nothing father, I swear upon it.”

You cross your arms, quirking an eyebrow, “Grant?”

“Nothing my Lord.”

“Edmund?”

Ser Jon Pryor’s son looks away quickly, his eyes cast towards his meal, “Not a thing Lord Malroy.”

“You are poor liars, the absolute lot of you,” you remark with a laugh, not even bothering to ask the clearly nervous Arron. You pull up a seat amongst the boys and pluck a corner of Victus’ bread and take a healthy bite, tussling his hair with a laugh in response to his sour look at you stealing his food. You sigh, and look about them again, “I know that look lads. It’s the look of mischief. And planning with poor thought. Tell me Grant, Edmund. Have you been granted permission to enter the squire’s melee?”

Grant and Edmund share a look and answer in rough unison, “Yes my Lord.”

You allow a note of approval from your voice, “Your second Edmund? And third Grant?”

They both nod and you do so alongside them, “Aye, thought as much. And let me guess, you’ve been filling Victus and Arron’s minds with stories of Knighthood and melees since past. Inspiring their dreams of joining this one themselves are you?”

Grant’s smile droops in an instant and he looks down at his food chewing slowly. Edmund is the one to answer, “Yes my Lord. We have, and apologize.”

You burst out into laughter, the boys about you glancing about with unsure looks, “You remind me of a squire I once knew during my time in King’s Landing,” you start, calming yourself down with a swig of water, “Boys of a few years older than myself. Telling tall tales of their performances during the squire’s melee. How they would be knighted by the King himself in the coming one. How I dreamed to be in their position. To fight, to earn renown. Though it was always to Ser Roderick Sunglass’ decision that I be sat upon the sidelines. Unready I was, too much bluster, not enough training. I raged as a youth, desired nothing more than to steal upon the fields and win the glory bestowed upon the heroes of my youth. I had heard the tales of Ser Barristan the Bold and how I envied him.”

Victus looks down at his feet, understanding your meaning, “Yes father.”

You tussle his hair again and he smiles softly, he had his mother’s smile you recognize, sweet and simple, “Thank you my son. I’ve enough to worry over without Dontos popping a blood vessel in his eye without Benjen about. You too Arron.”

“Yes Lord Brynden,” the dornish boy says.

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You sit about and chat with the boys a moment longer. Each excited for their own reasons of the Tourney. None of them, barring Victus, had ever seen Mason compete, Grant was fully behind his own master Lucas in the melee, while Edmund had wagered his months allowance on Mason either winning it all or at least out lasting Lucas. You allowed the boys their petty gambling, not that you hadn’t done it yourself as well at their age or older you recalled upon the way you freed your men and yourself from the Second Sons’ contracts. A man far above calls out and the deck comes alive with sailors once again. Suppose the entrance to the Wendwater was nearby and you’d be in Wendwater by the evening.

Victus and yourself take leave of the other squires a few moments later, take up a spot on the bow of the ship and just lazing about for awhile like you use to in Essos. He would chatter of his simple things, new things he had seen or learned during your travels of the Free Cities. His want for a weapon. The new words of Myrish that Illiad had taught him or the way to hold a shield that Mason had. They were simpler times. Now the two of you spoke of Steadhold, of the things he had seen their, often times they were sadder. Poverty still stuck in the lower levels of your home, he had met his fair share of youths there, not quite the same as those in Essos. Slaves and children of the weak and weary of Westeros were not wholly the same. But still he disliked it all the same, the whole thing sat poorly in his stomach.

“I do not disagree my son,” you say with a weary sigh, “We do what we can for them. House Redward’s grasp is slipping upon those lands that were once theirs, soon they may leave for home.”

He nods slowly, and looks out towards the sea, so often where your eyes once lead to the east, “Do you miss mother?”

Your mouth hangs a gap for a moment, your thoughts a turmoil, it had not been often Lysa had entered your mind of late, Obella filling those gaps where she once stood. You pause, collecting yourself, “I… I do son. Every day I remember her and honor her with my love for you.”

“Do you think she’d be proud of me?”

“Proud?”

“Of the person I am to become. To us having come home. What… What do you think she wanted for me?”

You chuckle, pushing at the corner of your eye with your thumb, “She wished the grandest things for you Victus. For love and fame. To never know the shame of a name… She wished for you to do what you loved and not worry for the thoughts of others. She made me promise to never force you to do what you did not wish to. To… To never become my father.”

“Grandfather Vamos?”

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“Aye… She didn’t want to give you cause to run away as I did,” you say with a laugh, “But… You’ve taken to the those things offered to you better than I ever had. Your training with my uncle, the numbers and letters with Benjen and Illiad. You are the son every man dreams for and every mother is fit to burst with pride over. Your mother would be prouder than even I am Victus. I promise you that.”

He smiles his simple smile, lopsided as it ever was, and you laugh, pushing the emotion such thoughts had brought down your throat once more.

“Father?”

“Yes son?”

“I’d like to live in Dorne.”

You laugh, turning away for a moment only to realize that Victus was not laughing but a rather serious look was upon his face.

“Do you intend to move Dontos with you?”

He screws his face up, and pauses a moment, “No… I… Maybe a new Knight… Or… Lord or…”

“Why?”

“It reminds me of Essos,” he says quickly, “The people are so different to Steadhold. It… Feels right? Lady Obella is a very nice Lady, father, and I am glad you have found her but… Maybe my place isn’t at Steadhold. Maybe my dreams are elsewhere.”

You chew on your lip, nodding along with your son, his words spoken with maturity beyond his years. Dontos would be sad to see him go you imagine at this point, he might not even approve. You would need to find a new Knight or Lord to sponsor him… Seven and housing and worry for him being so far from you. It would be the furthest and longest of both of your lives.

He looks out at the sea again, maybe not expecting an answer. His face reads of disappointment of the thought, as if he was ashamed of it.

What to do with Victus?
>Promise him you’ll look into it immediately, if that is what he desired then that is where he would be.
>Promise him, but tell him to wait a few years, get a few years under his belt with Dontos and when he is thirteen you’ll broach the topic again
>Deny him, he is young and does not know his desires yet.

Sorry I'm so slow today. I don't know what's up with me. But I intend to run for awhile tonight, so there's that.

>>1293562
That occurred during the WotFKs, 15 years in the future.

Call Dontos a craven to his face, see what happens.

>>1293633
>>Promise him, but tell him to wait a few years, get a few years under his belt with Dontos and when he is thirteen you’ll broach the topic again

Victus has the right idea, Dorne is a great place if you stay away from the Emo Star

>>1293633
>Promise him, but tell him to wait a few years, get a few years under his belt with Dontos and when he is thirteen you’ll broach the topic again

>>1293633
>Promise him, but tell him to wait a few years, get a few years under his belt with Dontos and when he is thirteen you’ll broach the topic again

Maybe when he is knighted

>>1293633
>Promise him, but tell him to wait a few years, get a few years under his belt with Dontos and when he is thirteen you’ll broach the topic again


I dont really like having Victus that far away. But maybe when he is older.

Or is it because there is a certain princess in Dorne and we simply cant compete ?

He should also atleast see his sister for a little bit before going, would be a shame if he just left without saying hi to her.

>>1293633
>>Promise him you’ll look into it immediately, if that is what he desired then that is where he would be.

Looking into it immediately does not mean doing it immediately, just starting to sound out options. But we want to show we're behind what he decides, whatever that may be.

>>1293633
Goddamit. Victus would be a great trueborn son and heir

>>1293395
And here!

>>1293635
Hey I just interpret the data milord. Hah okay good to know.

>>1293633
>give it a few years

>>1293633
I wonder where we'll be able to foster the young Victus Dorne has a good number of factions and ethnic divisions.

>>1293633
>Deny him, he is young and does not know his desires yet.

>>1293744
Probably where a certain princess lives.

We do have that free favour from Oberyn if needed.

>>1293750
Seems like a waste. We already have a brother in law whose son we're fostering

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Man, quests are so much harder to follow when they're not on /tg/

>>1293813
I know! why is that?

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>>1293826
Dunno. But it's probably the Baratheons' fault.

>>1293837
You take that back!

Robert is a noble, just and competent king that vanquished the evil valyrian king.

Loyalist got what loyalist deserve.

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Your hand finds a place upon his shoulder and turns to you again, your face is as screwed up as his was, suppose it was a trait you shared, “Have you spoken to Dontos about this?”

He plays with the little ribbon that Lady Elionwy had given him nearly a year ago, still laced into his sleeve, “Yes father.”

A touch of surprise tinges your face, “And his response?”

“To ask you,” he says with a laugh, eyes still cast down, “But… He told me not to tell you this, but he said he supported the idea. I didn’t expect that.”

“Nor I,” you respond, “Seven knows he disapproved of my flight to Essos. Suppose it being in Westeros helps,” you think allowed before sitting back on your palms and looking up at the sky, “Your thirteenth nameday is in two years, almost to a date. If this is your my desire son upon that day we will broach the topic again. Yes? Get some more years under your belt with my uncle, and finish your tutoring with Benjin and Illiad. When you have grown more we will discuss those who could potentially take you on as their squire. Lady Obella will likely be kind enough to help,” you say with a smile cast towards your son.

He leans over against you and you tussle his hair and pull him into a side hug.

“Thank you father,” he says with a twinkle in those emerald eyes that reminded you he was your son in full.

---

“Cast anchor! Prepare to disembark!”

“YES CAPTAIN!”

Ser Jon Longwaters stands next to you, his hand upon the pommel of his sword as his sailors draw in to Wendwater’s port. Lucas, Dontos, and Mason flank the both of you, banners of House Malroy and House Longwaters announcing your arrival. The colors of House Wendwater awaits you upon the dock as the gangplank is dropped and the sailors begin to pull off the cargo and help the animals above deck. Penance and Goldsong give your uncle and yourself looks of disdain as they always did when stuffed into a ship.

“Bloody seven I missed you land,” Mason mutters quietly as you approach Wendishton, the rather large city that sat beneath the castle proper upon the Wendwater’s banks, “If I win the Melee we’re taking the long way home.”

“Deal,” you respond with a short laugh.

“Weldon!” Jon and Lucas call in perfect unison moving forward to the young man standing beneath the Wendwater banner, he embraces them both firmly a solemn look hardly leaving his face as he did so.

Upon your approach he straightens and bows stiffly. “Lord Malroy. My Lord Father will be pleased to hear of your safe arrival. We were surprised to hear of your coming. We are to understand that you are to be married soon, no?”

“It was a last minute decision I will admit, I must thank your Lord Father for being so accommodating. And yes, within the month,” you respond with an inclined head of respect.

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“Then House Wendwater sends its sincerest congratulations. A shame my father hadn’t known of your bachelor status prior, elsewise he would have offered my younger sister,” he says his tone unflinching and level. It reminded you of Pastorn in a sense, solemn of word and look. Isis use to write of how she thought him always sad except for the field upon his horse. A Malroy until the bitter end. He straightens again and waves the both of you to follow.

“Weldon respects House Malroy a great deal,” Jon says in your ear before you mount up to follow through the town, “Careful about his father Lord Wendal, and the eldest son Ser Walmon. They were loyalist true and good, but when threat of taking their port came to fruition by the southron Lords of the Stormlands, they were quick to retreat and hole up in the castle for the duration and until the battles were decided. If you hear the name Wendal the Weak, make note to avoid those whose lips such words passed. Money and Influence speaks volumes here Brynden, and the Lord of the House does not care to lose either, tread carefully with the Lords of both the Crown and Stormlands here.”

A fair warning you nod to in confirmation swinging up upon Goldsong with practiced ease. Dontos rides beside you up to the castle. Smaller than Steadhold the two of you guessed, having never been here before, but the moat about it was impressive, the drawbridge this of thick redwood and banded black iron note unlike those that held the gates of Steadhold. You notice a peculiar thing in the courtyard, tents of House Darry strewn about here and there. A House of few and less coinage and influence anymore after the Rebellion you recall, why so far from home in the Riverlands?

“Lord Wendal is married to Lady Selena Darry,” Dontos remarks as you look about with an obvious look of confusion, “No doubt her nephew Ser Raymun will be about the lists or at least I’d hope.”

“How many generations ago did our family marry the Darrys,” you wonder aloud.

“Two or three, If I need guess,” Dontos responds, “Doubtful it matters much now but they are a good sort all the same. I would hope you could find a friend in Ser Raymun, his elder brother were good loyal men to the end. If nothing else establish connections with Lady Selena, I understand her nieces are here as well. And a lowly born cousin that now serves the Order of the Leaf. Brokering marriage would be...”

“Not within the realm of possibility. They are still to be treated with respect uncle, you of all people I would not expect that from. Should I offer to marry their daughters to a mere Household Knight with no land or title, nor even promise of such from me or their family? A son to a Lady-in-Waiting who is with another child already?”

Dontos stiffens, a sour look resting upon his face, “They’re loyal is all I was trying to say Brynden.”

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Loyal to the Dragon, you read in undertone. You sigh and press forward, allowing a servant to take your horse as you enter the great hall of Wendwater, you are offered salt and bread and welcomed into their home to refresh and wash away the travel’s grime and sweat. It was still deep into summer, and the son had loomed hot and unforgiving over Oakenfist the better part of the day so you are thankful for the respite.

>Enjoy the feast with the Lords and Lands of the Crownlands and Stormlands, being a social Lord as befitting your station
>Steal about the lower tables and feast the spills into the Courtyard, you’ll be social but moreso with the people of your type
>Skip ahead to tomorrow’s events instead (You’ll attend the feast with this option, but in a low capacity, just taking your place and that’s all)

Order of Events
Day 1:
Opening rounds of the Joust
Squire’s Melee
Day 2:
High-born Knights enter the Joust
Open Archery Contest

Day 3:
Lords and Heirs enter the Joust
Lord and Knight Melee

Day 4:
Final rounds of the Joust

>Which events would you like to compete in?

>>1293878
Open Archery Contest
Lord and Knight Melee

>>1293790
I could believe he means the Water Gardens which now that I think of it would be fucking based as fuck. All the little kids fostered away from their Houses and factions an ingenious way to build alliance and a cohesive Dorne. When those kids grow up and go back home they become the Lords and Ladies of their houses and retain their friendships.

>>1293892
Aye. Having him raised in Sunspear would be very useful and not to mention good for him.

>>1293886
Second

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>>1293878
>Enjoy the feast with the Lords and Lands of the Crownlands and Stormlands, being a social Lord as befitting your station
Loyal, eh? Like 'em already.

>>1293878
>>Enjoy the feast with the Lords and Lands of the Crownlands and Stormlands, being a social Lord as befitting your station

>>1293878
>Steal about the lower tables and feast the spills into the Courtyard, you’ll be social but moreso with the people of your type

>>1293878
>Enjoy the feast with the Lords and Lands of the Crownlands and Stormlands, being a social Lord as befitting your station
>Open Archery Contest

>>1293878
>>Enjoy the feast with the Lords and Lands of the Crownlands and Stormlands, being a social Lord as befitting your station

>Archery Contest, Melee

>>1293878
>Enjoy the feast with the Lords and Lands of the Crownlands and Stormlands, being a social Lord as befitting your station

Also
>Squire’s Melee

Hahaha
Or
>enter the joust on the second or third day.

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>>1293850

Alright so looks like we'll be schmoozing about with the higher Lords of the Realm some. Who we feeling? Crownlands, Stormlands?

And, unsurprisingly we'll be competing in the Archery Contest. As is befitting the Blackshaft.

A touch more surprisingly we will be competing in the melee. Not Brynden's specialty but sometimes you just have to beat up on some people. Note this is going to be hard to win.

>>1293997
Crownlands best lands

>>1293997
Stormlands. Where's the Lord of Tarth!

>>1293997
Riverlands.

>>1293997
Stormlanders. Marcher Lords if we can find one.

>>1294024
Can we marry our bastard to his ugly daughter?

>>1294046
Only if he beat her at arms first.
Amusing as that would be, he would invariably fail.

“My Lord?” a lifted pretty voice calls your attention away from your bath and you turn your head in surprise to see a comely young lady standing at your door, only held back by the nervous dornish squire whose eyes are firmly placed upon the floor.

“Yes, can I help you my Lady?”

Her face flushes with red, eyes scattered to any ornament within the room she can find to stare at rather than your nude form that you’ve little to cover up, perhaps young ladies should not be calling upon a Lord with a reputation. She coughs and settles upon a painting on the far wall and smoothes her skirts, “My Lady, Wylla Wendwater, requests your presence tonight. She understands you are a fair dancer and would like ask you save one for her.”

You almost laugh, holding it in your throat with a hand placed over it, “Does my Lady know I am to be married within the moon’s turn?”

“She is well aware my Lord,” the young Lady stumbles out, “Does my Lord wish to decline my Lady’s request?”

You sigh and wave your hand, Arron takes it as leave to gather you a towel as you stand to dry off. “Tell her I will be making an appearance at the feast. If I am available she may have her dance.”

“I will inform my Lady, thank you my Lord,” she quickly responds, glancing your way only slightly before a polite curtsy and then dashing away.

You shake your head drying off, some things never changed you felt. You could be courteous and chaste, certainly, entertaining a Lady of the House. Yes that was all. The clothing Arron had left out were suitable for the higher functions, cloth of gold intermingled with the silks and cloth from across the sea. Outside of this you had taken to wearing a mantle of golden fox fur that Lord Quentyn Qorgyle had gifted you, made of the pelt of the sand fox the two of you had hunted during your time in Dorne. It was a touch flashier than you preferred but it was a gift, and one worth showing off to the rich and influential Lords of the Crownlands and Stormlands. You hadn’t ever particularly known but the Wendwaters happened to be quite wealthy, their port bringing in trade goods and daily catch from across the Narrow Sea and the Blackwater Bay respectively. Illiad had a few contacts with relations to Ser Walmon Wendwater, apparently their network had expanded greatly within the past couple of decades.

Ser Lucas Longwaters enters your room with an easy knock, a smile dancing upon his lips, he had been spending too much time with Victor, you think. “What did you do to that poor girl?” he asks.

“She interrupted my bath,” you throw casually buckling your doublet in place and smoothing it over, “Any and everything she saw should be considered an occupational hazard.”

Lucas laughs, “Point my Lord. Though perhaps she would not be a poor way to go out, the last hoorah before the confines of marriage."

You fix him with a stern look, "If only Lady Racheal could hear you."

"Regardless, are you ready? I managed to secure us some fair seats. Jon will be up on the main table with Lord Wendwater, we’ll be on the second tier seated with an old acquaintance. Dontos said he wished to skip the feast, I could not say why, I assumed Mason would be an acceptable replacement.”

You fix him with a queer sidelong look that he merely smiles at.

“Fine then, all the same. Let us be off.”

---

“Lord Brynden Malroy of Steadhold, sworn to House Baratheon of King’s Landing. And his sworn men, Ser Mason Flowers of the Reach and Ser Lucas Longwaters!” the herald calls as you enter the room and are escorted to your seats. Mason almost looked like a Targaryen in his sanguine, black and white, luckily he adorned himself far differently. Lucas in his finery of sanguine and sea water blue looking ridiculous as always. Waiting at your table next to your own seat is a Lord of purple lightning and you suddenly recall where this old acquaintance was from, Lord Bryce Dondarrion. You had met once during the Grand Melee in King’s Landing. He and his men had taken it to Royce, while you were distracted by that Kingsguard and Crastor Paege. The second time he had argued in your defense in Dorne after your run in with the assassin’s in the lower districts of Sunspear.

Lord Dondarrion stands to greet you, and you see the man for who he really was for the first time, not hidden behind armor or far away in court in Dorne. He had the easy laughter and smile of one of your men, but a hardness in his eye, his handshake was firm and deliberate and his welcoming you to the table was as warm as one could imagine. You didn’t doubt he was much older than Dontos, perhaps in his equal thirties.

His voice was a deep baritone as he spoke, the kind that rang in your chest with every spoken word, not entirely unlike Mason, “Lord Malroy. It is good to see you again. And for once have a chance to meet you.”

You laugh taking your seat and the proffered wine which quickly reaches lips, “The pleasure is mine Lord Dondarrion. Per chance meetings can only happen so many times, eh?”

He joins in your laugh and clinks his glass to your own, “Indeed Lord Malroy, indeed. Will your Uncle be joining us? My son, Beric is quite fond of the ‘Black Knight of Malroy’.”

“Unfortunately not,” you respond, leaning around him to see a young boy sitting next to his father, and attempt to divert that particular line of conversation, “He is preoccupied.”

Lord Bryce messes up his son’s hair and leans over closer, “All the better perhaps. House Bolling is quite displeased to hear of his arrival. Two son’s left without a father, I would warn your uncle to be careful if he plans to fight or ride in the lists.”

“Bolling?”

“Had he never mentioned? They are fairly certain, as are many of the other Stormlanders that your uncle killed Lord Benson Bolling during the Rebellion. War is war, and all that. But, you cannot leave all behind in the past, especially freshest of those memories.”

You look down into your cup and lick your lips, “Understood Lord Dondarrion. I am sure his caution is for this reason already, but I will be sure to address this with him. I thank you.”

He tilts his head in silent response. You look about for a moment, hardly recognizing half of the banners here. Most of the Stormlanders were mysteries to you, they weren’t ever on your directly on your radar, you knew Archie’s House, Benedorn and the Baratheons and that was about it. There weren’t any Reach Houses you notice, and the only Rivermen were the Darrys seat surprisingly lower than yourself. The hall is still filling with guests and the high table is occupied by the Lord Wendwater and Lord Rosby at the moment, the two wealthy port Lords discussing trade and like far beyond your own understanding no doubt.

What to do, what to do?
>Open Field
>Any questions for Lord Bryce Dondarrion?
>Any one you want to talk to specifically?
>You could possibly make some trade deals or sell some horses if you wish. But to whom is the question at the moment.

>>1294284
>Any questions for Lord Bryce Dondarrion?

Mah nigga Dondarrion does thou wish to engage in the Tourney?

>>1294284
>>1294284
>>1294284
>Any questions for Lord Bryce Dondarrion?

Mah nigga Dondarrion does thou wish to engage in the Tourney?

>>1294284
Mah nigga Dondarrion does thou wish to engage in the Tourney?

>>1294284
Ask Dondarrion about how life has been like in the Stormlands now that a Stag sits on the throne.

>>1294307
>>1294321
>>1294348
>>1294375
Yee

Also ask little Beric what he admires about our beloved Uncle.

>>1294284
I wonder if conciliation and mend of old wounds is possible in this Bolling situation. We've lost loved ones in this as well. Who's to say we're to keep the hurt fresh with more conflict...

>>1294417
It all depends on how they act.
Bolling could approach us on even footing at which it would be wise to proffer some ammenable gesture towards peace without appearing weak or sycothantic.

>>1294307
>>1294321
>>1294348

Lord Dondarrion laughs, "I hardly have a reason to be here otherwise. Blackhaven is further than any of the other Storm Lords, and some might consider my attendance to be beneath my House. But the Tourney Knight in me hasn't died yet and no man dislikes coin. Plan to joust and fight in the melee. I expect to see your uncle in the lists. And yourself in the melee. Though I hear the latter will be less the event than it could have been, seeing Thoros of Myr again would have been amusing. My cousin was pleased to see you himself, hard to forget the showing you put on in King's Landing, he hopes to give you a run for your dragons in the archery contest."

>>1294375

"Well enough," he respond with a tentative thought, "The Stormlands are not wealthy, nor fertile. But we are powerful martial Lords. Particularly in the Marches where Blackhaven is, being allowed to maintain our standing strength and expand with impunity is of benefit. Barring a few outsiders, our coffers remain unscathed by this debt to the Crown I understand many of the Crownlanders now suffer. Many of my fellow Marcher Lords fear Dornish reprisal now and have begun to fortify further. I have taken another route, my son is to be married to a Lady of House Dayne. Alliance is more important in these coming months and years. Healing wounds and rallying behind our King."

Can't say you disagree with the sentiment, though for different reasons.

>>1294398

"So, young Beric," you ask around his father who scoots back to allow you to speak with him.

"Yes Lord Malroy?" he squeaks back, his voice not having leveled out yet.

"Did you watch my Uncle in King's Landing?"

He nods his head furiously, smiling a broad grin without his two front teeth.

You chuckle and exchange a glance with his father, assuming the conversation is fine, "What is it you admire him so much for?"

"Ser Dontos is a True Knight, my Lord!" he says with fervor, "All squires and knights should aspire to be like him. Protect the weak, rescue the innocent, respect the Faith. Both smallfolk and nobleborn."

The lad certainly had an idealized view Knighthood you think, though Dontos would be happy to hear such high opinions of his dedication to the Faith and tenants of Knighthood.

>>1294417
>>1294436
Its been roughly two years since this occurred. The wound is very fresh still. Beyond that, let's say Royce tried to come to you to mend the wounds of him killing your father and Pastorn right after your return to Westeros. Do you really think you'd go for it?

>>1294469
The war was the war, Dontos killed him in battle fair and square as all told can be said.
Royce proceeded to go from the battlefield and sully our home and kill our family.

Theres a difference there and its important.

>>1294489
Dead is dead.

Best to avoid confrontation and ill will even in the face of challenge, give them time they'll come around yet.

So any other questions, anyone you want to talk to or just move on?

>>1294518
I'm good with moving on

>>1294518
Move on

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>>1294511
Hmm that or get gradtitude from whoever, uncle or steward, that gained power from the Lord Bollings death.

>>1294518
>Move on
I do and don't want to get involved in those port Lords. Nah

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>>1294518
I say move on

Alright moving on then, fine by me.

>>1294542
The port Lords (i.e. Rosby, Wendwater, Velaryon, etc.) are probably the most powerful and influential Lords of the Crownlands. Mixing up with them is a task, but you don't have to whatsoever. The farming Houses and the martial ones like your own are powerful in their own way. I've never really given a chance to mingle with them much, but not really Brynden's thing and I'm fine with that.

>>1294582
If you want to throw one at bryden then there will be plenty of time after this. His recent escapades would have generated at least mild interest.

>>1294582
Gyles 'couching up blood' Rosby? Lord Brynden shan't fear some feeble old man.

>>1294615
My dude are you not understanding that this is set 15 years before the books?

>>1294631
So what he's got one foot in the grave instead of two?

(Hey man, the first one was comparing two instances of dead Bollings, and the other was expecting a very elderly feeble man to be still relatively elderly in the past. Especially a man from a house know to be sickly and feeble.)

What about House Barbery, will we see them?

The rest of the feast is your usual affair, Lord Ralph Buckler is given a seat of honor next to Lord Wendwater. The former is young and in his prime it would seem, according to Lord Bryce, his father passed away of a wasting sickness before he could arrange the marriage of his son. Dondarrion surmises that perhaps it was for the best, the former Lord being a conservative man who preferred to marry close or even to cousins. Lady Wylla Wendwater was the envy of both the Crown and Stormlands, and her hand had once been promised to a Knight of House Florent who had died during the Rebellion. Now the match could be considered even, and easily made both of the Houses stronger for it now. In truth you understood less the politics of either House, just knowing that House Wendwater was shoring up their backsides. Ser Walmon Wendwater was married to a Lady Redding of the Reach, and had two sons by her. Weldon had yet to marry, though you didn’t doubt it wasn’t soon to come given the dragons Lord Wendal was flashing about this Tourney.

“Lord Malroy?” again a lifted tone, though sweet like honeyed wine. You cast your eyes upon a beauty of a young woman, slender and graceful in her gown of silver. Her hair is what you found striking, golden blonde, like spun gold flowing from her head.

“Yes, Lady..?”

“Wylla. Wylla Wendwater,” she curtsies in elegant fashion a quick glance to your side allows you a glimpse of Lucas’ mouth nearly upon the table, “I had hoped to make good upon our dance?”

You look around her seeing the band beginning to ready for the later hours of the feast, dancing and drinking becoming the norm rather than talks of political alliance, trade, and marriage. You sigh and stand, dabbing the side of your mouth with the cloth napkin and placing it carefully upon the table with a click of your tongue, “Well I do suppose.”

Her steps were very much unlike Obella’s you felt as you spun about the grand hall in a waltz, one arm placed upon your back, the other leading the dance with her hand. While Obella fought you, made you work to lead the dance, was more willing to diverge from traditional step and tone, Wylla was immaculately practiced in perfect form, her steps calculated and learned through hours of painstaking practice.

She smiles at you, teeth of perfect white sparkling like the vibrant blue of her eyes, and speaks, “I do not do this to seduce you Lord Malroy.”

You chortle in half response, “My Lady I would never assume such things. Quite often it is assumed I am the one attempting the seduction.”

She giggles prettily, matching your hand placement as you both spin across the other's body before rejoining, “As such I have heard Lord Malroy. My Ladies speak of such indecent things, my poor cousin may never recover from seeing you in all of your glory. Oh the poor dear has not stopped speaking of since, I am certain my other ladies are bored to tears of the story.”

You click your tongue, “And I am certain she has taken liberties with her story?”

“As if a man betrothed to a beauty of Dorne based upon peace would be so foolish as to leave such a trail behind him. Her dress was in tatters but I never believed from your ravages, oh, Lord Sellsword.”

You frown, the sellsword playing at Lord, a rumor that would die, only evolve to purposes of the speaker.

Wylla runs a gloved finger down your cheek, through your silver beard, and onto your neck to regain your attention to her once more, “I do not mean offense Lord Malroy. I only wish to make my father’s job more easy. You see Lord Buckler is not a timid man or one of little means of courtship. But he expects too much, for me to come to him, to fawn upon his lap. I do not chase and the way I see it, you make every Lordling jealous of your prowess with the fairer sex, and every Lady’s dream of the sellswordy rogue that sweeps them off their feet. So…”

She removes your arm from your back, positioning herself in a far more… Sultry variation of this dance and placing your hand, unwillingly upon her hip.

“I will make him,” Wylla finishes, fluttering her eyelashes and flashing a look towards her father’s high table.

Oh bloody seven.

The tempo of the music rises as does the heat in your chest and loins, Wylla is no longer shy and tradition in her dance. She takes the liberties that might back a dornishwoman blush, not your dornishwoman to be certain, but perhaps some. You swallow hard as eyes cast about the room catching an eye full of Lucas and Bryce Dondarrion laughing heartily together, with Mason shaking his head. The high table is filled with those whispers and dark glares from Lord Buckler and the occasional one from Ser Walmon Wendwater.

Please roll 3d6+2 for Will.
Last time you’ll ever have to roll one of these if you succeed. The +2 are for the two times you've succeeded prior.

Rolled 4, 2, 1 + 2 = 9 (3d6 + 2)

>>1294842

Rolled 6, 2, 6 + 2 = 16 (3d6 + 2)

>>1294842

Rolled 1, 4, 2 + 2 = 9 (3d6 + 2)

>>1294842
>3d6+2

Rolled 2, 1, 2 + 2 = 7 (3d6 + 2)

>>1294842

>>1294871
>>1294866
>>1294859
I get the feeling we have been seduced.

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>>1294842
well, Targaryens are known for having multiple wives

surely nothing bad will come of this

>>1294859
>>1294866
>>1294871
>9,16,9

Man on a DC:12 that was way closer than I expected. Solid pass though with the 16.

So basically what that means is Brynden is entirely able to control himself around other women. It doesn't mean he won't be a shameless flirt if he thinks it'll be fun or Obella is in on it, but his dedication and love for Obella is unquestionable. He was telling the truth when he said he hadn't been with another since her.

As an aside, Lady Wylla Wendwater was never a marriage option. Only because Lord Wendal Wendwater would be scared shitless of making an ally of a Valyrian House in the post Targaryen era.

Keep it up father, I look forward to these threads. I can't even read other quests, they don't compare.

>>1294886
Aww. I was hoping for Brynden have a moment of weakness.

>>1294886
>Spoiler

BUT THERE IN WOULD HAVE LAIN THE FUN FATHER! THE FUN!

we could have sellsworded it out of him!

>Success, one degree.

Sighing you readjust yourself into a less provocative dance, and receive a pout in response from the young Lady. Had you caught me a year earlier... you think. Bloody Seven she wouldn’t have needed to even attempt, she would have been in your bed that night. Mind casts to Obella, she… She had occupied a long empty spot within your heart, dusty with cobwebs and hidden by cynicism and drunken regret, filled in fleeting moments with whores and poor daughters won by silver tongue. Like Cecillia and Dorian. Your focus is lost upon the task, the motions repetitive and only done on instinct rather than with passion or care for the dance. You are only recalled to reality by a tap upon your shoulder and the navy and gold clad Lord Ralph Buckler stands behind you, his voiceless request to cut it given with a relative ease.

Wandering back over to your seat you slouch back down into it with a solid thud, wordless for a moment before taking into your cups once more.

“You really do care for her,” Mason remarks to your side.

“Hm?”

“Lady Qorgyle. You’re…” your old friend waves his hand about attempting to pick the most delicate word, “Dedicated to her. See future with her. This isn’t fleeting. You’re in love.”

Emerald like wildfire stares back at you in the dark red wine, again words failing you. Those same emeralds shared by your son, beloved by your first love, and who you had thought to be your last.

---

The first day of events hadn’t been of particular note you recall. Your boys do well enough in the Squire’s Melee. Edmund Pryor had made a grave mistake in the early bouts, being taken out by a boy easily half the talent, he would do better next time Ser Jon Pryor insisted being unpulsed by his son’s loss. Grant Conklyn gets to the final four before being knocked out by the eventual winner who was using a mace and stomached him with a full wind up, the boy Maffew Rivers was the squire of Ser Stevron Darry and likely his baseborn son. The Knight you had been told was a one of the six members of the Order of the Leaf. You had learned from various sources and Lords that the Order of the Leaf were the clear cut favorites to win every event, the Order was old, perhaps since the time of House Hoare. They were not famous like the Green Hand nor with the storied history but it was still considered an honor amongst the local Lords to be a member amongst the Order, despite most of the time it being filled with extended family, such as Ser Weldon Wendwater, the favorite to win the Archery Contest, beside yourself of course.

A Ser Bael Waters had emerged as a crowd favorite in the early rounds of the Joust, he looked like a dragonseed if you were being honest with yourself and had been announced as hailing from Dragonstone during his last bout of the day. A few unknowns from the Stormlands, small Houses you had never heard of before, more often than not cadet branches or derivatives of the pain branch in some sense and Seven above if you even knew what the main branch was. Mason competed this day as well, given he was a baseborn son of the Reach. You did not doubt his skill but had forgotten how damn effective of a jouster he was, he took three Hedge Knights in quick succession, breaking only two lances and unhorsing them all. And finishing his day with a cousin of House Massey unhorsed in three lances. Riding one of Goldsong’s golden brood he made not only a good showing for himself but one for your House. Enough to start some chatter at least. Ser Aden Brune of Brownhollow and Ser Duncan Ureye had fair showings themselves, though you doubted the former would last much longer into the second day after taking a nasty blow to the head and just barely skinning the cat to stay alive.

At the night’s feast you watched Lord Ralph Buckler play right into Lady Wylla’s hand, having begun to pursue her in full and openly. A part of you disliked that you had been used in such a way, but another found it amusing to cause her Ladies to fall into laughter and blushes with a mere look, or nod, or wink. The next day was that of the Archery Contest and you had decided going easy on the wine and getting an early night would be for the best. Your room is dark and a touch chill for your taste, being use to the master suite of Steadhold high in her upper reaches where all of the heat rose, the room lent to you in Wendwater was buried deep in the bowels of the castle and had a certain dampness.

“Arron?” you call looking about your room for the young squire, “Bloody hells…” you mutter must be out with Victus again. Boys of an age. You begin to remove your clothing, the tightness in your chest glad to be relieved of the doublet, though a noise among your sheets stops you. The mirror is poorly shined, the room too dim for you to recognize what was there. Fingers find the dirk upon your breast, the empty space where her braid was held having not quite felt right since. Turning slowly you creep over, knife raised half cocked. You spy… Hair, dark, long… For a moment your heart yearns but knows better. A frightened face creeps from beneath the sheets before disappearing under a flurry of covers attempting to hide beneath them as if they were honor. The Lady-in-Waiting Wylla had sent, you recognized her now, the nervousness, the frightened looks of a young woman. You sheathe your blade and sit upon the foot of the bed.

“You can come out dove,” you say softly.

“I… I was sent for your pleasure my Lord, in… In Repayment,” she stumbles out from her place under the covers, “My Lady says I owe you for… For spreading rumors.”

You tug at the sheet, eliciting a yelp and revealing her naked breasts to the cool air, covered in gooseflesh as are the arms that go to cover herself in shame.

“You need do no such thing my Lady,” you say looking about the floor for her dress, the same thing she had come to you in the day prior, “I am betrothed, my heart lies with another. And while I am certain your pleasures are numerous and sweet, mine own are owned by her.”

She sits up, taking the dress from your outstretched hand, putting it on with haste and look down at her hands in shame, “I should not have said those things about you my Lord Malroy. You are not the whore monger the other Ladies speak of.”

Not anymore at least, you think, “Come lass. Let us get you on your way, to your own bed and room,” you say helping her up and to the door. In truth she looked a girl, hardly bloomed, perhaps not even a year into her womanhood, she pauses as you are about to see her out and close the door, crossing her hands and staring at the ground.

“My Lord, may I request a kiss goodnight?”

You roll your eyes and look about the hall, empty but for a sept mouse, and place a soft almost fatherly kiss upon her head in her dark hair. She smiled all the same at the gesture and dashes off, barefoot upon the stone floor. Seven above what had that dornishwoman made you? A man that cares, one of fatherly affection and care? Certainly not the sellsword playing at Lord.

---

“Arm guard?”

“Check.”

“Arrows?”

“Check.”

“Lucky blackshaft?”

“Check.”

“Bows?”

“Double check.”

“Very good Arron,” you say with a laugh, the boy attempting to keep up with you to the field where the Archery Contest would be held, a small strip of woods clearcut from the Kingswood. The field was already filled with five score or more men, Knights, Lords and everything between and above entering the lists. No doubt it would be similar to that of King’s Landing. A small raised pavilion in Wendwater colors is off to the side, filled with House Wendwater representatives. Lord Wendal and his wife Lady Selena Darry are surprisingly present, and much to your further surprise your Uncle sits next to the Lady Darry, speaking with her with a smile upon his face and two other Darrys surrounding him. An odd audience to be certain.

By the early hours of the morning the men of the lists are divided up into eight groups, each sending eight participants to the bracket rounds their seeding based upon overall performance. Lucas and Jon Longwaters end up in the same group, Block B. Victor Haigh in the one before you in Block D. Ser Wolden Wendwaters ends up opposite of your own in Block A, likely only seen in the finals if you both made it that far. You end up in Block E with a couple of other contenders, a few Storm Lords, a Crownlander you had competed against in the King’s Landing contest in the earlier rounds, and Ser Titus Sarsfield ends up in the same Block as yourself.

“Lord Brynden Malroy of Steadhold!” the herald announces for your first shots of the day at absolutely pitiful pace of twenty. The crowd roars to life, many of the Nobleborn remembering your victory only half a year ago in King’s Landing and the smallfolk following after as you pander to them for a moment.

You stretch out your bow to its full length, notching an arrow and breath in deep. Focus. Exhale. This was your contest, and you would be Champion once more.

Breath. Aim. Loose.

>Please roll 8d6 for Marksmanship.

[End Chapter LII]

Alright so that's it for tonight. Got through a lot less than I had wanted, just wasn't writing as quick as I use to. I'll get back into the swing of it someday.

Plan is to continue tomorrow. I have to go into work 4pm-8pm est tomorrow for a meeting but I plan to get a few updates before and then some after so we can get through the Archery Contest at least.

As always thanks for playing. Sorry things moved slowly but this is the exact sort of stuff I needed to be writing, the slower paced sort of story to get back into dialogue and the voices of all of the characters. Thank you for baring with me until we can get things back on track.

Rolled 1, 6, 1, 1, 2, 3, 4, 6 = 24 (8d6)

>>1295216

>>1295228
Thanks for running dad! Will be here tomorrow for most of the run but will prolly miss a couple hours around 8 for work myself.

Rolled 1, 6, 3, 1, 1, 3, 6, 5 = 26 (8d6)

>>1295216

Rolled 4, 4, 1, 3, 6, 4, 4, 4 = 30 (8d6)

>>1295216
Thanks for running Father.

Rolled 4, 1, 2, 6, 5, 2, 5, 2 = 27 (8d6)

>>1295216

>>1295228
Thanks for running pops

Wylla a best non waifu

>>1295228
That was great padre, thanks for running

Question for Anons and QM. If you were to able to dream cast House Malroy for a GoT style show with unlimited budget who would you cast as who?

I always pictured Charlie Hunnam as Brynden personally.

>>1296512
He looks like him....

But I'm not sure he could pull off the role very well.

Last thing I saw him in was Pacific Rim and and he was kinda flat.

>>1296512
Would make it animated.

>>1295244
>>1295257
>>1295264

So on a 8d6k5:
>21,23,22

Good start as always.

>>1296512
Huh, I can see that. Physically at least. I'm not sure who I would cast honestly. I'm not really that knowledgeable regarding actors and film.

>>1296567
Is probably the correct answer. Haha

>>1296693
No one would believe the twenty good men part though.

>>1295228
Obella really got brynden by the balls

>>1296918
With her cunt m8

>>1296941
Indeed. If she weren't so embarrassed about Brynden dominating her when they first met, she would be smug like hell

>>1296693
I'd say Nicholas Hoult is a good range. Got striking eyes like Lord Brynden. Give him a beard like >>1293399 and I think he'd make it work.

>>1297012
And I was gonna suggest like a Jason Isaacs or a Christopher Eccleston for Dontos but Dontos is 29?! The hell we need to get him a wife and have kids. I don't care how gay you are you bang your wife and have kids in feudal society that's all there is to it!

>>1297064
He is already married. No baby making though. Just as his wife wanted it.

>>1297064
He's married to a lady who has a son. So she doesn't want any more kids. With is nice for our gay uncle

>>1297076
>>1297075
I guess that's the best that could have been.

Are we continuing tonight?

>>1297981
Father lies all the time I'm afraid

>>1298217
It's out of love though

He lies out of love

>>1298364
He hurts because he loves us. He doesn't mean to, we just make him angry. We just need to be good.

>>1298737
i will be good

>>1298759
>>1298737
Father does not think we have been good children and have therefor punished us!

>>1298217
That is a fair statement, for I am a deadbeat. I'm real sorry guys, meeting yesterday ended up longer than I hoped. Today I was just busy. Its just how things are still. I'm trying lads.

>>1297064
Not making Dontos older is in my top 3 of regrets during this question. Definitely would have made more sense for him to be 39 and a veteran of the War of the Ninepenny Kings to really solidify his position and allegiance to the Targaryens. But at the same time I wanted him to be feasibly young enough to be promised a spot on the Kingsguard. If I could go back I probably would change it.

Its up there with the Celtigar incident and diminishing Giselle's worth and not giving her enough screen time.

>>1300994
>That is a fair statement, for I am a deadbeat.

Yeah but you're OUR deadbeat!

>Its up there with the Celtigar incident and diminishing Giselle's worth and not giving her enough screen time.

what was so bad about the celtigars?

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>>1301020
>what was so bad about the celtigars?
REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

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>>1294789
Who is it you're referring to? Couldn't find anything about a Quest House called Barbery. It calls to mind Barbrey Dustin nee Ryswell. But those are Northern houses...

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>>1301020
>what was so bad about the celtigars
I believe they were supposed to be our first big questline with the possibility of debt relief, marriage alliances, a Crownlands land war and subjugation of Crackclaw point (which admittedly probably would have gone pretty smoothly as the peninsula is held seemingly by a bunch of languishing houses of small account and fucking Dick Crabb. But that is during the events of the book so maybe they threw us back into the sea but never recovered fully?), and the unification of the houses in the Crownlands with Valyrian blood. (Also since the Isle houses are sworn to Dragonstone we'd have an in with Mannis).
And then the thread decided Brynden didn't want anything to do with Lord Celtigar and put an end to all that!

>>1300994
>diminishing Giselle's worth and not giving her enough screen time
Hah you knew that we'd would grab the wheel and swerve Brynden toward Obella the moment we smelled that spicy Dornish blood in the thread.

But what would you have hinted at with Grafton's benefits?

So, WHEN?

>>1301170
A one shot Father ran, at the worst time, and didn't garner much player.
The house was sworn to the Dondarrion and the heir was sucking it up and the MC was trying to do his own thing, but since the timming was off and players low it didn't go anywhere.

Running a quest on new years eve, for shame.

>>1301332
It was bold though

Seriously, how can one ever hope to catch-up?

>>1301344
By reading. A lot of reading.

If all else. Read the latest threads to see our current plans.

>>1301344
The quest does not advance that fast man. A day or two of casual reading will work fine.

>>1301020
>>1301209

To be honest there was little reason for Lord Celtigar to lie about the nature of the meeting, the undue subterfuge lend itself to assume he was trying to manipulate us which was a big no no for someone like Brynden.

>>1301599
Papa Celtigar wants to marry daughter to Brynden and give him a big dowry to pay off his debt

Papa Celtigar then wanted to strong arm Brynden into helping him invade the Crackclaw Point and in general try to turn House Malroy into a bannerhouse in everything but name.

Celtigar jr. Brilliant plan was for Brynden to marry the girl, but! Drag it out and save up money to pay off the debt himself and then be not as much strong armed. Completely forgetting that the whole reason why Brynden would even want to marry was to get the money to pay off his debt. Not to mention that it would make him on bad terms with Pap Celtigar.


Saltygar's plan was stupid in every sense of the word.

>>1301606

Explain again part about Celtigar jr.

>>1301630
Celtigar Jr wanted Brynden to marry his sister, but he wanted it done so that Brynden would reap none of the advantages while still keeping most of the disadvantages.

>>1301337
Bold and brash are Father's house words I think.

>>1301606
>>1301637

Yeahhhh it was dumb. I didn't word it quite the right way, didn't give Wilson's plan enough upside, just in general didn't plan it out well enough. I should have waited until we were at Claw Isle and Brynden had heard Ardrian's proposal and met Helena. And just in general did the whole thing different. It also led to Giselle not being as developed as she should have been because she was Helena's replacement. And yeah. Biggest regret and failing throughout the entire quest I feel.

>>1301815
To be fair father, we've been quite happy poking and prodding around off the premade rails and you've still thrown curve balls at us.
Can't say I have any dissapointments.

>>1301815
Hey. Atleast it gave birth to the chocolate loving banker we all know and love. So that is a major plus.

>>1301819
I am looking forward to our essos trip where we try to resecure the egg. Good chance we'll see our favouret choclate pig fiend again.

>>1301827
SPeaking of which. We should invite him to our next feast/banquet.

>>1301829
We'll have to invite him to one at some point, though ide be hesitent to do it at steadhold again.

>>1301815
So father. When will Ambrose return to Westeros and claim he is the real Brynden
?

>>1301853
Somehow I doubt that plan will hold much water.
With our sister out of redfucks custody we have multiple witnesses to testify for Brynden's validity as the real mccoy. His continued successes and staunch support of the hand of the king also means that the powers that be will not back an outsider whos alleigence is unknown, especially when he is known to the hand as a claimant who is backed by foreign hostile powers.

If Ambrose came to westeros at the point in time we left off at latest he would end up isolated rather quickly. If he does come, it'll be when Brynden is away and even then he'll be against those who are pro-stability like Varys.

>>1301868
>Implying he wont arrive together with Aegon Blackfyre

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>>1301868
>If Ambrose came to westeros
Goldsong and Victus would kill the poor guy.

>>1301815
honestly Dad, did you really expect us to let a HDW escape?

>>1302305
>GENROUS Mounds
>little finger antics
>Contacts for days across the reach, and the Vale
>moneymaking efficiency

Honestly our marriage to Dorne should have made us more isolated than it has IMO whereas the marriage to Giselle should have opened many doors

>>1302482
You got to remember though, we are essentially Dorne's way into the Crownlands and literally right next to King's Landing, that's absolutely huge. Not to mention that we aren't the happiest with the Stag either, so they can be reasonably sure of where we stand on things.

>>1302511
You are forgetting that Dorne is entering a roughly 15-20! year period of near total Isolation from westerns politics, ain't no shot about being their "in" to the crown lands going to help with that

>>1302548
>near total Isolation
I mean, if you call "having spies literally fucking everywhere while keeping your close family members safe in Dorne" a form of "near total isolation", sure.

I guess.

>>1302548
The Martells may have isolated themselves from the crown during this time. But I imagine there would have been trade and power brokerage going on between the minor and major houses of these two areas during this time.

If you want to get in the good graces of Doran and Oberyn just use Brynden's connections in Esso. The Free Cities are where the Martells are making plays around this time. Oberyn is soldiering with the Second Sons and is about to form the Brave Companions. There are many ways you can prove yourself useful. But it would have to be discreet, they probably wouldn't be too happy with Brynden if he dragged along a tail or brought too much attention.

>>1301818
I mean yeah all in all it worked out. I actually had entirely different plans for Obella, she was suppose to be the alternative marriage option but she still would have, attempted to, seduced Brynden even if he had hitched up with Helena beforehand during the Tourney of King's Landing and attempted to get knocked up. I think she would have been seen as a much different character had the Celtigar thing not gone down the way it did.

It did make me restructure my early story a lot. Not having a Valyrian House union kind of threw some of my plans for major alliances, but then I got to do a lot with the Longwaters. It put off Ardrian attempted to invade the Crackclaw Point, enough for them to unify for the first time in awhile and then talk to Brynden about helping them, thus flipping the script on where Brynden is likely to land on that fight.

Really I'm not sure if I can say one way or another if things had been better had the Celtigar incident never occurred and I still think it was a massive failing on my part but all in all I am happy with where we ended up.

>>1301819
Nararo Aros is hands down one of my favorite off the cuff characters in the quest. I didn't plan for him to ever occur or refinancing the loan ever really being an option but here we are. And I can say I am happy with how that went. It really utilized the cunning sellsword rogue aspect of Brynden's personality while mixing it with the Westerosi Lord aspect to do business and it really turned into a great sequence of scenes and perhaps one of the higher points of the early quest.

>>1301827
I still need to figure out a way to do that properly. Man there are so many threads even I've started to forget about them.

>>1301829
Fucking do it. Nararo would never turn down an option to feast especially with a prestigious Westerosi Lord. Of his personal clientele House Malroy is one of his biggest clients and has really helped his standing in the Bank of Bays.

>>1301853
Oh he doesn't plan to claim he's the real Brynden. He knows that'd fail spectacularly. He just plans to make an absolutely ridiculous claim to Steadhold. No, his loyalties and plans lie elsewhere.

>>1302482
>Honestly our marriage to Dorne should have made us more isolated than it has IMO

That's actually something I plan to address relatively soon. Because yes you are right Dorne is going to go full on isolationist very soon. In my canon the aftermath of the Tourney in Highgarden is where that's really going to kick off fully. Oberyn is going to return to Essos. And Doran and Dorne are really going to begin to internalize to the point where Obella's 'missions' become few and far between. Even House Qorgyle is going to become more distant with their lent cavalry returning home and the only real dornish presence in Steadhold being Obella, her aerial silk troupe, Ladies-in-Waiting, and maybe a couple of Knights that decide to stick around if you convince them.

>Cont'd

Also, if you think about it. You really don't have a lot of contacts. House Chelsted, Hayford and Lognwaters are your major allies, with the Crackclaw Point Lords being friends but under oath and contract. Otherwise, not a lot going on for House Malroy. They have friends, but not a lot of close, close allies. And that's more of a Brynden thing where he is really great at making friends but his major scale alliances and the like skills are sort of eh. Obella is a touch better with that and will be using those skills to their fullest when the children are at a marriagable age.

>>1302842
Actually in the Crownlands House Malroy will be the only dornish connection. Dorne will majorly stay away from any major alliances or power plays outside of a few like Dondarrion and Dayne. House Malroy is special in that regard.

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>>1303478
>Not having a Valyrian House union kind of threw some of my plans for major alliances
tfw no Valyrian Union

>>1303487
>You really don't have a lot of contacts
>a few like Dondarrion and Dayne. House Malroy is special in that regard.

Well let's be special together! Let's do a little smoozing make nice with the Lightning Lord.

>>1303487
>Actually in the Crownlands House Malroy will be the only dornish connection. Dorne will majorly stay away from any major alliances or power plays outside of a few like Dondarrion and Dayne. House Malroy is special in that regard.

See this is where you could have sold Giselle a bit easier, having her and her brother being well connected in a local sense and eagerly active in alliances and power brokering especially with Giselles brother being in the service of the hand

>>1303761
And put us incredibly deep into Aryn's pocket. Much more so as he'd be the only protection we'd have from queen bitchface.

>>1303774
Hey it's at the least better than facing her influence alone

Oh wait....

>>1303774
>>1303776
Facing our rival alone is not quite the same as facing the Queen's influence alone, but I do take the meaning. Jon's "help" amounts to pretty much just putting us on an (almost) level playing field.

Not precisely the favour many were expecting after being humiliated by him for the sake of peace, especially when Redward seemed to have the advantage, but I can see why he'd be reluctant to get too involved.

... the cretinous lackey of the usurper that he is.

>>1303776
Seems like a very human mistake considering what happened and who Brynden is, even if it a mistake i am fine with and willing to accept the consquences.

Faaaaaaatheeeeerrrrrr!

Please come back from the gas station!

i miss daddywaddy

Someone should probably archive this.

I spent a week going through the archives to get to this point. You better come back soon daddy-o. Also stop being dead Doctor, your House Blackett quest pausing is the reason why I came to this one in the first place.

>Get caught up on two GoT quests and they're both dead
Fuck my life.