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Lady Obella Qorgyle, your wife, the mother of your first true-born daughter, the Lady of Steadhold, a beauty beyond reproach with a mind sharper than the sword your wore upon your belt. The whirlwind of lust and romance that had led to your eventual marriage still sat warmly upon your mind, shocking that it had been nearly a year ago now. Her radiance upon that day, likely a thought you would never forget, Seven it was the very thing that had kept you driven during the wars that followed. You loved this woman, dearly, and the moment you looked her in the eyes, all concern and confusion as she looked upon your sorry state she had found you in, you knew, she had to know. Those dark days of your youth, more a blur of drunken haze and memories etched with the stench of that perfume when compared to the prior memories you held so dear. You go to speak, to tell her but find your voice caught in your throat, the pounding in your head making it harder to concentrate and parse your words, you shake your head closing your eyes tighter in an effort to make the headache stop, feeling the tears run down your cheeks as you did so and soon after the warmth of her hand as it passes through your beard and cups your cheek. Leaning into it you allow her to lead your head and the rest of your body into the plush bed, propping your head up on a few pillows and stripping away the rest of your clothes.

“Seven Brynden you’re burning up,” she says with a certain tenseness. You go to respond but are cut off when she reaches over and plucks the letter from your hands, folding it carefully and putting it beside on the table. She stands, flattening her skirts and sighing slightly before walking over with a gliding graceful step and undoing the tassels that kept the curtains open, casting a red glow over the room as the evening sun set. She casts another look towards you and clicks her tongue before going to the door and calling for a servant who returns not soon after with a pitcher and glassware likely far more ornate than was necessary.

Obella sits next to you, silence filling the room as she does so and she pours a glass and brings it to your lip with little more than a stern, “Drink.” An action you are happy to oblige when you realize it is chilled water rather than wine, likely from a block of ice shipped in from Lorath. She nurses you for a moment longer, though her silence is telling, it is rare she had ever found you in such a state and your secrets had always been your own, alongside your shames, particularly your time in Lys, with Ysaeria. In all likelihood she had some inkling already of what was upon your mind, the way she had passed more than one look towards the letter that sat half opened upon the side table had told you as much, your silence and state likely told her the same.

“Should I burn it Brynden?” she asks suddenly, eyes laid upon it, her fingers knitted up in her dress.

It takes a moment longer to respond than you should have, than she would prefer, you cast your head to the side and stare at the thing again, the lavender seal haunting you with the words it had brought. A daughter, your second-born in truth, you did not know her, for the longest of times you denied she had ever existed. But the word had spread to even you during your time in Essos, of the Orlisis family having a new heir, a second in line amidst the politics and debates of lineage that plagued the perfume empire so. Your thoughts are muddled before being recalled by her voice, her hand having reached out to take the letter, eyes intent upon the candle flame nearby.

“Brynden?”

“No,” you manage out, hardly a whisper of a word, you sit up, the mild throbbing in your head making you regret the action but all the same you draw yourself up and attempt to appear halfway put together again, your voice is stronger this time, your hand reaching over to grasp hers before it touches the letter, “Do not. It’s… An invitation from… From, well, a woman of my past… There is… Seven Hell,” you plop back down frustrated that your words failed your tongue for the first time in some time, “Read the bloody thing. It’s better than me stumbling through it.”

Her hand slips yours easily enough and you cast your head to the side to avoid her gaze, to avoid the expressions upon her face changing from concern and confusion to what you only assume would be wroth and further confusion. She reads it likely three times before she places it upon her lap, eyes cast the ceiling and you can feel her discontent coming from her very being. If she has any emotions she is doing well to hide them from manifesting physically, but her body language tells you otherwise when you reach for her hand.

“How many more Brynden?” she asks, pointedly, curtly even, “How many more children do you have in this world must I learn of you having all but abandoned?”

“None,” you answer briefly, not seeing reason to argue it otherwise, “I swear it Obella, she is the last.”

“Do you know her name?”

“I- I do not,” you state, not entirely having an answer yourself on that and having only realized you did not know your daughter’s name.

“And does she claim your own?”

“No, no,” you state firmer, “Ysaeria is too proud for that. The Orlisis name is too important for their heirs, without it you could end up several notches lower on the order of inheritance despite a better claim.”

Obella huffs, crossing her arms idly flicking at one of her nails you assume it would be her knife in place of such had she had it at the time, “Good,” she draws out, the hint of venom upon it, “What do you think this woman wishes from you then?”

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A better question though one you had even less of an answer for, you wreck your mind, doubtful that Ysaeria lacked for allies, she had no less than a third of the family under her thumb, and the last time one had tried to actively steal the family from under her it had started a war the Second Sons were almost drawn into. A few lost ships later and the man, a Gerome Orlisis if you remembered correctly, had ended up strung up upon the mast of his ‘war galley’ by his own men and the rest of the cousins were cowed into submission. This Magister Orveal Orlisis, despite being sixth, likely had made some play recently and it had given her cause for concern. She played with a full deck at all times, but knowing she could add to it with your presence in the city was likely her game, particularly at such a high profile event. You explain as much to Obella, who for her part, while annoyed, does nod and hum at the thought.

“You think it is only so?” she asks after a moment of thought, “So simple as to ask you the favor to appear at her court, revealing a powerful Westerosi Lord as the father of her bastard daughter and heir, and fend off some family?”

You click your tongue, staring at the ceiling for want of this headache to truly be gone, “Doubtful. Ysaeria has more in mind. She would not do this lightly we do not… Leave on the best of terms.”

“I…” Obella starts, trying to find her own words now, “Brynden I, I do not know what to do with that,” she says pinching the bridge of her nose before turning to you fully and regarding you with those purple eyes of hers, “That is not the man I know. And yet I have learned of Dorian with the poor seamstress only months ago. And I know Ser Mason had found you in some winehole, Illiad had told me as much, so drunk and far enough away to consider selling your horse, hardly a father at all to Victus. This may not be the man I know, but… But it is the man you have the potential to be. And that scares me Brynden. When I am away after our second child is born, mere months after, how can I sleep at night knowing this?”

You cast your eyes away from her, shamed by her words, stung by the bluntness of it, you swallow hard, wishes to throw yourself upon the floor before her and swearing every loyalty and vow you could to prove that you were the man she knew, that that child was a part of you long past, but you knew the woman, such things would appear false, words of wind to placate her mind and poorly at that.

“I cannot say Obella,” you state simply, “I strive every day to no longer be that man. To provide of my family and be there for them where I may have failed in the past.”

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“Then what of her?” Obella responds without missing a beat, “I have no desire to share you with this woman. Not in any way. Any claim she still think she has to you has long since gone, besides being the mother of one of your children. I have half a mind to take ship upon daybreak and return home so we may be done with her and I can be with our daughter again. But you owe that little girl, whatever danger she may be in, you need to see it done. And then we are with them.”

The question had become a statement rather quickly, her eyes had lit up in anger, emotion finally betraying her and you gape to respond, not sure of your words again, you manage, “Of course Obella. I will see she is safe.”

“And that is all,” Obella adds harshly, “You will try to be the pragmatic Lord that you always try to be, and manage to force to your will with silvered tongue and coin but I have no desire to deal with this woman or family further. I am your wife. I am the Lady of Steadhold. I am the mother of your true-born children Brynden. And I say you will be done with her, as you have been. There is no making both sides happy here.”

Your mind stays upon her words, they hada finality to them, a hard line upon the sands where she stood that you needed to toe carefully. The Orlisis were a powerful family, ones with influence beyond Lys in both coin and political capital. They would be good allies but at what costs to yourself, to Obella’s happiness, to her pride. You think that is what this is, coupled with learning of what may very well be your most shameful act, the lowest point of your life, this woman had deemed fit to call upon your favor rather pointedly, leaving you little choice but to abide. Obella’s pride, her dominance as the most powerful woman in your life, had been prickled by it, not to mention the child that added to the weight of the words. Ysaeria hit upon your weakest aspect, even if you never knew the child, she was still just that, your child. This was something you needed to play carefully, the thoughts hardly those that worked within your pain addled mind.

You open your eyes from thought to see her staring at you, expectant of an answer. You did not have one that was a whole truth, you knew so little, of what may be asked, of what you could do. You sigh, resigning yourself to the safest answer for the moment, “As you say Obella.”

Her face is a thin grimace, knowing the words were only half truth, “Alright,” she says standing as she does so, “I need a moment to myself Brynden. To think upon this. Get some rest. I will have Illiad check on you later.”

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Nodding you meet her gaze only halfway and she turns on heel and leaves the room without much word otherwise, leaving you to your red tinted silence, you allow your breath out not having realized you were holding it. Sinking into the bed with your mind in turmoil you almost curse Ysaeria but knew you were to be held accountable for your actions, as long ago as they might have been. Evening turns to dusk and to night and Obella does not return, though Illiad does with a platter of food and wine and the two of you share a meal in silence, his face wrought with the obvious knowing of Obella’s anger and prickled pride. It is long into the night, and you halfway through another night of restless half sleep, that she returns slipping into bed quietly and falling to sleep in a matter of minutes without word or touch. You fall alseep not long after, though are plagued with the same dreams you had had at home, his face a bloody ruin, the words of your family echoing in your head as he died in your arms. Again and again.

---

Day 27, Month X - 285AC ~ Afternoon
Lys - The High Streets

Having accepted Ysaeria’s invitation you had received another missive, though more formal this time, to attend her for a private dinner the day prior. An offer you were loathe to decline, though even more so to accept. Likely she intended to demonstrate her power over you here, to tout the clout she had now being able to call a Valyrian Lord of Westeros to attend her so willfully. You think as much as the litter passes into the highest tier of the city, following the High Streets towards the Orlisis manse. The past few days had been significantly less joyful as the first few, though Obella had begun to speak to you again sooner than the last time she was angry. When you had received the invitation her face had gone so sour you thought her random to burst with anger. Though it had left the thought in your mind that as much as you hated being put in this position, Obella hated it more, another powerful woman in your life was the absolute last thing she wanted, and in truth she was still young, a thing you often forgot, as was your marriage. Assuring her that she remained firmly the most powerful and trusted woman in your life now was something you would need to be proactive about. Though at the same time you still remained undecided of how to handle this, Ysaeria worked in favors, she would not be playing her hand with you in it without a suitably well thought out plan and offer to keep you on board, likely one that was far more desperate than you ever expected to see her in after the near decade of silence from her. And that is all besides the possibilities of meeting your second-born. Perhaps it best you hear her alone first, before deciding your play here and to avoid the worst of Obella’s wroth. And thus when the messenger asked how many would be attending Mistress Ysaeria Orlisis’ private dinner you responded with…

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Who will be attending Mistress Ysaeria Orlisis’ Private dinner?
>Lord Brynden Malroy, alone.
>Lord Brynden and Lady Obella Malroy.

Illiad as well had expressed interest in attending. He had fully suspected at least some offer of trade or the Orlisis attempting to expand into the Crownlands market would be spoken of in return for you assistance. As your Master of Commerce that was his wheelhouse, and honestly the talk of such things with Ysaeria in the past had made your eyes glaze over. Likely it would be he would be useful, though the Orlisis’ would be disinterested in dealing with a former slave in lieu of the proper Lord himself, perhaps even thinking it a purposeful slight.

Bring Illiad to potentially negotiate for you?
>Yay
>Neigh

Welcome back dad!

>>4042272
>Lord Brynden and Lady Obella Malroy.
>Yay
Purposeful slight? Sounds like my kind of dinner party.

>>4042272
>>Lord Brynden and Lady Obella Malroy.
>yay

Hi Dad!

>>4042272
>Lord Brynden and Lady Obella Malroy
>Neigh

Still bring Illiad to translate though, and then Brynden will do the negotiating

>>4042272
>>Lord Brynden and Lady Obella Malroy.
>Yay

He returns

>>4042272
>Lord Brynden and Lady Obella Malroy.
>Yay
We have our message for her, this is business and will stay like that.

>>4042272
>Lord Brynden Malroy, alone.
>Neigh

>>4042295
Its about the dangers of our newly discovered daughter

>>4042272
>Lord Brynden and Lady Obella Malroy.
>Yay

So where did we all land on that (Obella + Ysaesria threesome) discussion?

>>4042315
In our dreams. Very nice dreams but i think that is all they are

>>4042315
I mean so long as we're okay with Brynden being castrated and consequently fed his own manhood, I think the plan is definitely 100% a go!!

>>4042334
Awesome. It should be well worth the price!

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>>4042338
Well worth it mate, well worth it

>>4042272
>Lord Brynden and Lady Obella Malroy.
>Yay

Brynden has already been in Lys for a few days and he has yet to join a orgie, got drunk in some trashy winesink, gotten into a brawl of participated in any form of fight club.

He is losing his edge.

Obella’s arm interlaced with your own bringing your attention back inside of the carriage. She had dressed in the colors of your House, a purple dress that flowed about her in the sea air, slashed with black and detailed with gold threadwork and lace. Even the typical scorpion clasp she wore had been replaced with a golden horse, though she still wore the other typical scorpion jewelry including that gaudy piece you gotten her in Dorne nearly a year ago. She wore it well though you reasonable assumed anyone else would look horrid in it. You assumed the choice of garb was a power move against Ysaeria, and likely one she would not miss either, dinner was like as might to be tense enough as it was. It was a striking look though, coupled alongside your own dark attire, and Donold’s black scale cloak, you made a properly dangerous looking pair.

Illiad sits across the both of you, idly fidgeting with his own finery, the coat was new, your old friend had always preferred to dress well now that his place in Steadhold consisted of conducting business in your name and dealing with numbers alongside Acolyte Ashby. Your eyes cast down towards where his pants had been folded over and you feel a tinge of pain at the remembrance of his lost leg. Though Illion had proven invaluable and you knew your old friend did not regret the loss it still tinged you with guilt.

“Lord..?” Illiad’s voice calls you back from idle thought and you look up to find him looking out towards the square before you. A throng of people had packed it and your litter had all but stopped. You scan the crowd and realize that they were all watching an execution. A legion of Unsullied kept them separated from the gallows where two men stood stark naked, pale and bruised and red where they had been beaten and cut. You strain your eyes from the litter, hardly getting a proper look at the men, though they looked familiar.

“Victor?” you call and the man rides up on his horse, hand on his sword and a tense look in his eye.

“Aye milord?”

“See if you can find out who those men are,” you say, watching a third and a hangsman walk upon the gallows to the cheers of the crowd, “And begin to find a way through the crowd, I ill like this.”

“Believe this man means to tell us milord,” Victor responds and you give him a flat look and wave him off and he pushes his horse through the crowd to the front of the litter, yelling at any man or woman in his broken Low Valyrian still stupid enough to stay in his way.

The man that had joined the others was garbed exquisitely, a robe of dark purple bejeweled with silver and amethyst, he looked like the cousin of the naked men, pale as he was and looked- Seven above. Your mind falls upon the old memory when he turns and you see his ear, it looked like an ugly disjointed cauliflower and you remember when your fist had hit it and blood had begun to pour from it. This was the First-Magister Orveal Orlisis, Ysearia’s first cousin, and something of a hated rival in your younger less thought out years. He had deigned to marry her then and had often tried to court her during the times you were around as her acting paramour. He was a weak man, physically, and would often be cowed by your superior skill at arms and generally intimidating nature and anger of youth. But once he had found his courage and had swung after you laughed in his face, it all truth it was not a terrible punch, making contact with your jaw and causing you to snap your head to the side. Your response was unfairly brutal and he had lived with the scars ever since. You strain your eyes as the litter begins to move again and realize who the two naked men are after a moment longer, more Orlisis. The family’s shipmaster who saw to the bulk of the shipping of the perfumes and goods as well as their protection at sea and a landgrave that oversaw the vast majority of the family’s apiaries and fields where they would source their scents. The two men were older than a score but were Ysaeria’s uncles and the third and fourth in the line of succession behind her and your daughter, if you remembered correctly one of them was Orveal’s father.

He spoke in Lyseni, addressing the crowd though it was far too loud for you to parse the words and even so you did not think you wished to. It had become obvious the two men, stark loyalists to Ysaeria, had been condemned to death, in some mock trial or perhaps not, but all the same they were soon to be gone from the succession list. You can feel a chill on your spine when the headsman pushes the first to his knees and the crowd roars as his head falls from his shoulders with a smooth fall of his axe. Orveal had always been a weak man, but he was not stupid and certainly not able, he was the First-Magister after all. You wondered where the fifth in line had gotten to, remembering that Orveal was only the sixth in line, well fourth now with the fall of the other’s head. Small wonder Ysaeria had become so desperate to reach out to you, if Orveal was simply killing those ahead of him with his new found power whose to say your daughter was outside of his reach. You can feel your sword hand tense, knuckles turnt white. Obella’s covers it and recalls your attention as the litter leaves the square and begins to travel through the High Streets again.

Illiad had gone white and nods at you when your eyes meet confirming your suspicions, his Lyseni far better than your own. Obella catches it and looks between you both.

“I take it you knew those men Brynden?”

“In a sense, I barely even recall their names, but I know they’re Orlisis’. And that was the First-Magister sentencing their deaths.”

She purses her lips and keeps her silence as you continue your short journey to the Orlisis Mance. You recall the smell more than the way, even the bloody streets smelled of perfume, and soon you are at the gates a contingent of Unsullied waiting for you.

You’re hailed in Lyseni, the first Unsulied to spy you, a rather rotund one, steps forward and holds up his hand. Illiad peeks his head out of the litter and responds, announcing your presence and you only catch your family’s name and your own. The gate is opened in short order and your litter lurches forward again down the small courtyard, around a fountain with a stone statue of three women interlaced in some wanton passion of love stands. You look out, remembering how little it had changed, maintained to be certain, the marble stone and gardens looking as immaculate as they did in your memories. And then your eyes fall upon her.

Ysaeria Orlisis, a woman of Valyrian beauty, all poise and striking ethereal beauty. She carried a parasol, to protect her porcelain skin from the sun, her dress a light lavender that enchance the rest of her beauty and cut daringly close down the front. She had little in the way of breasts, but even still ever angle of her looked to be carved from marble. High cheek bones, a prominent collar bone that carried her head high and proud. Her eyes of light blue met your own and her lips curl into a smile, framed as they always were by the long flowing silver hair that matched your own. Obella’s hand tenses up over your own and you are drawn back to her eyes and a look of poorly concealed fury. She takes a breath as you keep your eyes upon her until the carriage stops and her face turns to pure courtesy and grace. Damn this woman was good.

A servant opens the door and you exit, offering your hand to Obella who happily takes it and steps dainty from the carriage and interlaces her arm within your own. Victor and Barq Zos both dismount, taking up positions from behind you with Illiad to your immediate left. She hardly gives any of them a half glance, surrounded by her Unsullied and no one else, and the fact your daughter was absent was not lost upon you.

“Māzigon lenton, āeksio Malroy,” she says in High Valyrian, her voice dripping with sweet poison.

“You can speak the Common tongue Ysearia,” you respond flatly, hardly wishing to play this game with her.

“Nyke vaoresagon se ēngos, hae gōntan ao tolvie bantis hae nyke vāettan ziry naejot ao,” she responds with a dismissive look.

Illiad swallows hard beside you, likely being the only other one here that understood what was going on.

You push forward instead, attempting to ignore her, “I thank you for the invitation Mistress Ysaeria, might I introduce my wife. The Lady Obella Malroy, Lady of Steadhold.”

Ysaeria scoffs in return as Obella curtsies to your words, she responds, “Sīr bisa dornish līve bares aōha riñar sir?”

Your eyes flame alive with wildfire in the days sun and she smiles to herself, that was all she wanted. Your anger, the man she knew in your youth, she thrived on it. The angry dangerous Valyrian boy from Westeros, her personal attack dog, her protective paramour, her toy. Hers. You steel your nerves, eyes calming and you respond with a level tone, “She is the mother of my first true-born daughter, Lorelei Malroy. And is currently with our second. Truly I am blessed by the Seven above.”

Ysaeria glowers at you, the words true-born striking a poor chord with her, as you knew it would. She had sought to marry you once, but you refused to give up your name as had she. Pride, and what it had wrought. She takes a few steps forward, and finally speaks in the Common Tongue, maintaining eye contact with your wife, “May R’hllor bless you, Lady Malroy.”

You roll your eyes, having forgotten that Ysaeria worshipped R’hllor, rather fervently as well, as your eyes pass the ruby rings she wore. Her eyes catch your wandering gaze and she remembers something you wished she had not and you curse yourself internally as she pauses and looks to her hand with a smile upon her lips. The hand is offered, and she looks to you again, expectantly. It was something she had done in the past when you had needed to beg her forgiveness, to look the subservient man, on his knees, kissing her rings. And she expected as much now.

Obella passes a look between the two of you, immediately keying into it, her grip around your arm tightens and her eyes betray her emotion as she stares daggers at Ysaeria only causing her to smile more. You grit your teeth, annoyance and anger in the same measure welling in your gut. She knew who you were now. And you knew she had come to you with purpose. But she expected to take her measure of blood alongside it, her repayment for your abandoning her and your daughter. Perhaps the action would take her edge and you would not have to endure her insults but Obella would be disgusted by such an action however it was explained thereafter, you were subservient to no woman but her now as far as she was concerned. The moment lingers, her eyes hardly moving from your own.

Kiss Mistress Ysaeria’s ring?
>Yay
>Neigh

>>4042395
>Neigh

>>4042395
>Yay

Lets keep our good manners

>>4042395
>>Neigh

>>4042395
>Neigh

If she cares to recall, she invited us. Those days are done and if she wants to ask for help she can do it as equals.

>>4042395
>Yay

Let us atleast try to be diplomatic and not burn any bridges right out of the gate

People saying Yay you should translate what she was saying.

By the way, I have to say I'm not a fan of the whole secret language thing. If we're Brynden we should be able to understand what she's saying. This is dumb.

>>4042404
>>4042398
Shit you are right, i completly missed that last part.

Changing to

>>4042395
>Neigh

>>4042406
Oh its just High Valyrian, there are a lot of ways to translate it online.

>>4042412
But why would I have to do that if I am already, as a player, in the mind of Brynden? Just doesn't make sense to me.

>>4042406
>Sīr bisa dornish līve bares aōha riñar sir

>So this Dornish whore bares your children now

>>4042415
Just saw that through a translator as well.

Changing to
>Neigh

>>4042395
>Yay

>>4042395
>Neigh

>>4042395
>Neigh

Pretty sure this entire meeting is a bad idea, but lets bare with to meet our daughter and give as little as possible.

Alright we'll call that a firm Neigh.

I just had some food delivered so I'm going to scarf it down and continue.

Nice to see you all again as well. Thank you for being patient for me during the holidays. Told you quest wasn't dead.

>>4042395
>Neigh
Just press on

>>4042426
Thanks for coming back to us ungrateful shits dad.

>>4042426
Take your time Dad, don't choke on what I can only assume is some gourmet and likely exotic take out

>>4042395
>Start walking away.

>>4042426
Glad to have you back dad!

>>4042426
Hey, the break gave me a chance to reread the archive.

Sooo... How great do you guys think the sex was between them ?

>>4042459
Well we're about to see the product that sex. Two godly Valyrians, that kid should have amazing genetics. And the Valyrians aren't even related so even more so.

>>4042459
Honestly? Probably next level. Here's my non-professional opinion.

The way Father is describing their relationship makes me think that Ysaeria is a very domineering woman and would have been immensely attracted to Brynden. A tall, handsome and dangerous Valyrian who isn't afraid to kill/maim for her? Also someone who is strong/dangerous enough to be the dominant party during sex? Her attraction to him was probably off the charts. Hence why she was willing to marry him as well. She's that career woman in power who is attracted to dangerous men but ultimately wants to have her cake and eat it too, in that what she is (was?) attracted to about our boy would have likely gone away if he had been willing to bend over backwards for her. She liked the sellsword too much.

Brynden on the other hand I see as being the more vulnerable party seeing as he was heartbroken by Lysa's death, but I can imagine that him giving into his rage and penchant for drink and what not would have made the sex very, very angry as he tried to bury his feelings for his first love. So alot of passion and emotion being thrown around in a young mans mind with a very powerful and obviously beautiful woman who likely reminds him of home on account of her Valyrian features.

All in all, I see it as a very toxic relationship, fraught with internal power struggles and likely jealousy but the sex would have been insane like it is in most toxic relationships. Very little actual compatibility paired with insane physical attraction and chemistry. .

Thank you for coming to my TED Talk.

>>4042480
I... Wow yeah that pretty much sums it up. Perfectly in fact.

>>4042263
Holy shit I always forget how massive that family tree is, also, who’s the Chad who had like 6 wives

>>4042538
A Malroy who seems to have gone off with the Rogue Prince on his little conquest spree

>>4042546
That’d be a fun quest
>Valyrian in a new land, just collecting wives
>The plot twist is that he’s denser than a neutron Star and doesn’t fully realize he’s getting married

>>4042538
One wife, six mothers of bastards.

Your eyes remain level, and you make no effort to move even when Obella’s arm loosens. You would not be her plaything, how easily she forgets she was the one that came to you for help, as ill conceived as this was in either sense she needed you. Ysaeria’s face changes to annoyance once she realizes that you had no intention of playing her old games and she lowers her hand and turns upon her heel, throwing her words over her shoulder, “Come Lord and Lady Malroy.”

Much as you had expected the Orlisis Mance had hardly changed in the near decade since you had been here last, new furnishings to be certain but the rest was the same, a shiny veneer over what were old walls and frescos. They were a proud family, tracing their lineage back to Old Valyria herself, but were among those that escaped the Doom by settling in Lys as one of the primary founders of the cities alongside the Rogares and a few other names you did not care to remember. It showed in their appearance, the only people who looked more Valyrian now were the Velaryons of Driftmark now. You follow after, hardly giving the halls a passing glance having known them as long as you did while the rest of your party marvel at it.

Instead you decide to dig, “Were those your uncles Ysaeria?”

She tenses in her walk, muttering in Lyseni before responding, “Yes Lord Malroy, both sentenced for high treason by the new First-Magister. They were both dealing with Tyrosh and Myr under the table as you Westerosi would say. Words of a coupe had passed their lips.”

You knew what that meant by the way she said it so matter of factly, hardly giving an inch of emotion, they had been framed by Orveal. Or if they had been up to such, it was misrepresented in a trial before the Magister council, bribes were had, and Ysaeria had lost two of her most trusted loyalists. You hum in response and allow the topic to die, having gained confirmation that you did indeed have some leverage here and her insults were as always her defense.

Ysaeria leads your small party into the secondary dining room, not the grand hall that was likely being decorated for tomorrow’s festivities. Her father liked to conduct business from this dining room you recalled prior to his death some odd years ago, and when she takes her father’s former seat without wating for yourself, Obella, and Illiad to even reach your own you take it she means business. Again you find yourself lacking a child and you cast your eyes about a moment to see if she is being held somewhere in the wings, a fact that Ysaeria is quick to notice.

“She is not here Brynden,” she says, her voice firm but the way she says your name makes you shudder with the same chill from before.

You pause, your face having gone queer as it attempts to put together a response.

“No words?” she says before you can, “A pity your sharp silvered tongue had always been so quick before.”

Obella glowers at the woman as you join her to take your seats across from her. Victor and Barq Zos stand by the doorway alongside the several Unsullied, and she remains flanked by them on either side as well. With a snap of her fingers the servants, slaves rather, come from the wings and begin to set the table with the first course. A sickly sweet cold soup of honeydew and some other fruit you cannot place, likely needlessly exotic.

“Why then,” you ask after a courteous two spoonfuls, you lean back as you ask and gesture broadly, “Why all of this then if you do not intend for us to meet?”

“Because Brynden,” she responds, all sense of formalities gone, “I need assurances you will attend tomorrow’s ball. I cannot simply conduct business with you here, give you your prize, and then have you missing tomorrow as some craven. You have a history of such. These times are dangerous, my daughter’s life is at stake here.”

You find yourself gritting your teeth again, the way she used her words sat ill with you, and Obella places her hand over your own, seeing the murderous look that had creeped into your eyes.

“Then let us talk,” you say simply, your voice as level as it can be.

She laughs in return, waving her hand, “Oh no no no my dear, if we are to conduct business we will do it as your Kings and Lords of Westeros do, since you think yourself some high Lord now. Would you do me the discourteous of ignoring the lavish meal I had prepared for you, your Lady Malroy, and your…” She trails off as she looks at Illiad, and he shrinks at her gaze, the mark of slavedom still resides upon his cheek despite how he may keep his appearance otherwise, nearly ever Essosi knew what he was, formerly was. It had taken you years to break him of such a thing but in Ysaeria’s eyes it is all she saw. You catch her eyes back with wildfire and anger, daring her to say something of your dear old friends past. She puffs herself up and settles on the word, “...Servant.”

“Fine,” you state firmly, allowing your eyes to linger upon her. As long as it had been she was still the same woman. You allow three courses to go by, each more wanton flaunting of wealth than the last. You had never eaten the fin of a shark before, it perhaps you could have avoid such again in the future. By the seventh course you had grown annoyed enough that you were hardly even hungry and you can tell she had had her fun drawing this out into the late afternoon. A servant here or there would interrupt from time to time, speak in Lyseni about some nonsense and then leave. And when the last of them has left you drum your fingers on the table and gain her attention.

“My apologies Brynden,” she says with a false sweetness to her voice, she snaps her fingers again and the table is cleared and another servant comes forward with several scrolls and sets them on either side of the table.

“What is all this Ysaeria?” you ask hardly regarding them beyond a wave of your hand.

“Contracts Brynden,” she says simply, “I am sure you have signed them before.”

“You presume much,” you respond with half a growl, “What are they for?”

“Oh? Well for our future business dealings Lord Malroy of course,” she responds, “If my daughter is to attend your court and know her absent father I will not see it be in poverty.”

You pick at the first and realize it is in Lyseni and hand it off to Illiad to read over. Obella had gone cold, her words of desiring this to be done after tomorrow evening’s events echoed in your mind.

Ysaeria continues, “I understand your Steadhold is along several rather important avenues into the heartlands of Westeros. Two rivers, two roads, both along the way to Lannisport. No port to speak of, what a shame, but still, valuable.”

“Valuable?” Obella asks her tone annoyed.

“Oh do not worry over it Lady Malroy, I am sure it is beyond you.”

“Ysaeria,” you saw with a harsher tone and she simply smiles at you before continuing on.

“You will find a contract for trade between your House and my family,” she says, “My fourth cousin Revlan Orlisis will oversee our trade from your court in Westeros and continue to teach my daughter the matters of trade and foreign affairs from there. I am sure you will find the terms agreeable?”

Illiad nods his head when you look at him and whispers, “The trade is good, Lord.”

You frown and chew on the thought, “You skipped several important matters Ysaeria. Including, why do you intend to send our daughter to my court. You have always been protective over her, why send her away now?”

“Lys is dangerous Brynden,” she says, “My sweet girl has seen enough horrors that most men would wish to scrub their dreams of. And her ‘uncle’ Magister Orveal has deemed her his new pet project, and she will serve him in the Magister’s court. If I know him, and I do, he is seeking to groom her, the insufferable worm, he could not have me, so he would have her instead. I cannot have this, if she will not be by my side, then she will be beside yours.”

Your stomach turns at the implication.

“And I know you are not one to turn down your children, if I remember that squally runt you carried with you everywhere well enough.”

Again wildfire flares in your eyes at the insult, how dare she speak of Victus to you.

“Oh calm yourself Brynden, I have no interest in him, only you. Again, to our deal. I will have a Villa built in your Steadhold, an extension of House Orlisis, you will have the services of Revlan and have every chance to meet and know your daughter, where I will know she is safe from the machinations of Orveal and I can be more overt in my dealing with him. And when it is safe? She will return and then it will be to her if she wishes to know her father more.”

You lick your lips and drum your fingers again, “What do you want from me Ysaeria?”

She leans forward, interlacing her fingers and resting her chin on them as she stares at you, “The truth,” she states, “My daughter has always been said to be the bastard of some sailor or groomsmen by the lesser members of the family. That I am some simple slut to give away my body to whomever and come up with a false heir. No, I will not have that hang above her. If you deign yourself some high Lord now, of Westeros, full of might and power, armed men ready to die for you, economic might to trade with the Orlisis family herself, then proclaim yourself such as her father before them all, as my paramour. And then, you will know her, and she will be safe. Orveal would be a fool to attack you or her so brazenly.”

Obella’s grip on your hand has tightened into a death grip and she is dripping with venom from her very eyes. She did not like this. At all. She wanted to walk out now, the only thing that kept her here was you and your love for a daughter you might have never known. Ysaeria snaps her fingers a final time and is handed a letter, the seal unbroken and rests it upon the table before speaking, “I understand your Lady Scorpion functions as your spymistress too? Such amatuer work to be caught so easily in Myr.”

“You absolute bit-,”

“A Myrish Magister still gives you troubles no?” she says cutting your wife off, “A final offer Brynden. Information, to do with as you will. Your spymistress will have full access to my own master so that she may finally see how competent work is done. I can promise you, this will give you the edge you need to see yourself rid of him.”

You stare at the scroll, something to give you an edge against Tychano Osten. You had not known if Obella’s efforts in Myr had bore fruit but apparently something had gone wrong and Ysaeria knew it. If she did, then Tychano likely did as well. But all of this, the trade, the villa, the information, your daughter. It was all so she could have her moment, to once again have you tell her and the world you were hers, even if it was only once. She fully intended to use the past two years of your work to rebuild the Malroy name and fortune to her advantage, and Orveals’s fear of you from a decade past to strike fear into the rest of the family. But if you accepted you would be far from done with her, with the Orlisis family in general. And Obella would be beyond wroth with such. The information and the potential failing of her spies alone would be enough to make her feel as though you no longer trusted her to get the job done. Whether or not that was the case. Your mind is muddled with thought, unsure of where to go, what to do. You allow a frustrated breath to escape and rasp your temple with your fingers in thought.

---

Mistress Ysaeria Orlisis’ offer:

Trade:
Goods - 20 Food : 2 Extraordinary Orlisis Perfume
Term - 5 Years
Start & End - Month X, 285AC to Month X, 290AC

Orlisis Villa:
Ysaeria would spend the wealth to rebuild the ruined Villa in Steadhold’s Outer Ring and provide Revlan Orlisis, the 35th in line, as a member of your court. He is currently your daughter’s teacher in matters of trade and is highly knowledgeable in regards to the family’s perfume trade. Minor Lords and Knights would see him as a possible marriage match for their lower born daughters and would provide your court with more courtiers through him and give you some political capital, where you significantly lack. This would tie the Orlisis family to your own for some time as Revlan will live in the Villa until the initial 5 year deal is over, and your court would gain a slightly more Essosi bend with him. Would also confer a +1 to Wealth rolls.

Information:
While Obella’s spies have not failed entirely the Orlisis spy network is far more experienced and established and she has long had her eye on Tychano Osten knowing he was an enemy of Brynden. The information she has on him is absolutely invaluable. Obella can gain this information herself but it would be difficult and take some time.

Your Daughter:
Ysaeria wishes to send their daughter to Steadhold to protect her. No firm timeframe but it would be the only chance Brynden ever has to know her fully. Family is his biggest motivator and having abandoned her is one the largest shames of his past. But what does he value more? The current family he is building with Obella or the ghosts of his past regardless of where they've come from.

>Open discussion.

This is a fairly large decision. I believe I have made it clear that Obella is not a fan of this and wants nothing to do with the Orlisis family. You can possibly convince her to stand down but it will be a black mark on your relationship with her and very likely to drive a wedge between the two. Careful as you play this. Please ask any questions that you may have and we’ll come up with a plan on how we want to proceed.

>>4042640
>give you your prize, and then have you missing tomorrow as some craven. You have a history of such.
Ooh that's cutting.

>>4042651
>agree

we cant just abandon her. We have done such things too often. The trade is good too, Obella might not like it. But even she cut us deep when he learnt how we abandoned yet another child. We can bring that up if she argues against it,

Just leave.

No, seriously, she is demanding we bend over backward, insults us at every turn and drops this problem on our lap. If she can't even have the poise to court her own words then why would we bother with this viper?

We can let her know if our daughter wishes to visit she may, but other than that we have no reason to entertain her. Our daughter is her own woman.

>>4042651
Honestly, I think the family focus has to make us decline this deal. Sure, our bastard daughter is family, but Obella is part of our family too, let alone the mother to our two trueborn children. Those three would quite possibly live a much unhappier life if we take this deal, all for the benefit of one family member and some money.

I say we decline and hope we can move on without things getting too messy.

>>4042662
Honestly I agree. I think Brynden finally being able to break from the ghosts of his past and fully be the Lord is where this is going. We don't need this.

>>4042651
I lost Dorian. I do not wish to lose Visenya.

Also it will give us some great things to work with. Bet the Lyseni perfume will go for a great price

>>4042662
Dont let her get in the way between Brynden and Visenya. She is not her mother

>>4042673
That girl does not come before victus, she does not come before obella, and she does not come before our daughter and unborn child.

She is already in the way, and she will force herself into our affairs more and more through this. This woman, is not to be entertained without a few healthy mediatorys inbetween.

Plus it'll be a nice confidence boost to our wife to show we will drop this pretty little thing off a metaphorical cliff for her.

>>4042651
>Orlisis Villa:
>Your Daughter:
Take the adviser, the trade agreement, and the daughter. Leave the spy information.
Agree to the ball and to claim the daughter as your own. Not Ysaeria as your love. Seems fair to me.

>>4042683
Never said we should put her before them. But i would prefer bringing her with us so she doesnt get murdered or "groomed"

>>4042651
Openly tell her she overplayed her hand. Do we wish to know our daughter? Yes, but we wish for our family to be happy more. She actively decided to call us out, then not only insulted us, but our wife as well. If she had things so well in hand as she's pointlessly parading she'd not have called. So, either she cuts the bullshit, the petty insults, the pointed comments, or we walk out. not because we wish to abandon the girl, but because her mother's own pride is too important to deal straight with us, which is why our relationship would never have worked even if we had stayed.

Obella is our lady wife and our love, not Ysaeria, maybe once, but not now nor ever again. We can claim the child was hers, perhaps, but regardless she is a bastard, she will never inherit anything of Steadhold. Is there anything else you wish to make your remark on my darling wife?

Show Ysaeria as much as she has, she's not dictating pace, we are. Also show her she's never getting back with us and that Obella is firmly well and only the leading lady of Steadhold.

>>4042689
>Never said we should put her before them
That is what the choice means to Obella, the vindictive mother of our children.

>>4042651
I don’t think this is something we can pass on. The terms are just a start open for negotiation. We can ask for more. Or we can ask for less.

>>4042689
I know you didn't. But this woman will do everything in her power, because she can, to force bryden to do so. Just having her in steadhold under these circumstances already shows we would sacrifice the happiness of our wife to some degree.

Again, extent that we will have her over, but I want nothing from this woman, the strings attached are nooses for our happyness.

>>4042684
This seems fair. We can't proclaim to be her paramour for it would shame Obella, especially because she doesn't want to 'share' us, but the rest of the deal is fine. We have a responsibility to our daughter even if he mother is a bitch

>>4042701
So we are to leave her to die or worse because our wife will get pouty ?

>>4042684
I agree with this

>>4042698
I also agree with this. Her power is hanging by a thread. She needs Brynden to help her keep the daughter safe.

>>4042707
Pouty seems like a gross understatement.

>>4042651
We could can acknowledge her as our daughter and give her shelter in Steadhold, but we will not insult by Obella by letting Ysaeria claim we are still her paramour. I'm incline nto agree to everything else but not without consulting Obella first and letting both our tempers. Ask for time to discuss this.

>>4042707
I just place our current family above them.

Got a choice to make, because end of it all I won't condone risking our family for someone who was raised in luxury in a foreign land and has never known us.

B may be her father, but he aint her daddy. He owes her the base courtesy and her mother nothing.

>>4042707
Yes, essentially. We diminish her happiness for the benefit of Obella's and our trueborn children

>>4042698
This is an even better response.

>>4042698
>>4042731
Yeah, I'm all for this.

>>4042722
Blood is blood. He’d abandoning his own daughter to her death. If he does nothing that’s as good as killing her himself. And the gods curse kinslayers.

Pleasantly surprised with how dividing this is. I am not entirely sure on how to comment on anything thus far because you guys do seem to have figured out the nuance to the situation. Ysaeria being so outward with her insults likely did that.

I'll give it a few more minutes and then come up with a vote.

>>4042698
Im fine with this responce unless someone thinks up something better.

>>4042737
Rubbish. You cannot be beholden to the acts of another and claim them as your own. If her mother wont play ball then its her choice that dooms her daughter.

The life of said daughter should be worth more than petty insults to the one who raised her.

I’d agree with a hardline. Make her believe Brynden is willing to leave Ysaeria and his daughter to their fates. Then negotiate from a place of power. Take all we can get.

>>4042737
>to her death
Debatable.
Also, walking away greatly improves the quality of life of our other children.

>>4042756
Not walking away would increase it even more.

How to respond?
>Agree to the deal.
>Full stop walk away and decline.
>Intimidate Ysaeria and attempt to retake control of this, a la>>4042698
>Something else? (Specify)

>>4042774
>>Intimidate Ysaeria and attempt to retake control of this, a la>>4042698 #

>>4042769
Nah, children need a loving family around them and dealing with the Orlisis family would deny them that.

>>4042774
>Full stop walk away and decline.

>>4042774
>Intimidate Ysaeria and attempt to retake control of this,

>>4042774
>Full stop walk away and decline

>>4042774
>>Intimidate Ysaeria and attempt to retake control of this, a la>>4042698 (You)

>>4042774
>Intimidate Ysaeria and attempt to retake control of this, a la>>4042698 #

>>4042774
>Intimidate Ysaeria and attempt to retake control of this, a la>>4042698

>>4042774
>Intimidate Ysaeria and attempt to retake control of this, a la

If only we brought our shiny new bow with us. Gives us a bonus to intimidation!

Intimidating it is.

DC:21

Please roll 5D6+2 for Persuasion(Intimidate).

Rolled 5, 1, 5, 5, 1 + 2 = 19 (5d6 + 2)

>>4042823

>>4042823

Rolled 3, 4, 4, 5, 1 + 2 = 19 (5d6 + 2)

>>4042823

>>4042774
>>Intimidate Ysaeria and attempt to retake control of this, a la>>4042698

>>4042823

>>4042823

>>4042828
>>4042836
>>4042838
lol.

Rolled 5, 6, 5, 4, 3 + 2 = 25 (5d6 + 2)

>>4042823
no whammies

Rolled 3, 6, 4, 6, 6 + 2 = 27 (5d6 + 2)

>>4042823

>>4042843
Saved!

>>4042828
>>4042836
>>4042838
We are a little rusty when it comes to rolling aren't we?

>>4042843
oh sweet merciful lord you just saved us

>>4042843
Based

>>4042827
>>4042829
>>4042843
19,19,25

Really saving it there on the end.

Alright so let me put this simply. You can cow Ysaeria into a being less of a cunt about this. The quoted post was a solid way of turning this on her and you have gained some control of the situation.

All of that being said it has absolutely nothing to do with Obella. She's slightly less annoyed sure, but little else. Obella still hates this, all of the compliments and pretty words in the world is not going to change her opinion on this. As she stated she wants nothing to do with this woman beyond tomorrow. I cannot stress how firm she is on this.

So you have control of the situation. How do you want to proceed?

>>4042876
We take the girl, we take the trade deal. We do not proclaim Orlisis as our paramour. We acknowledge our daughter, She will apologise to our wife.

>>4042876
I dunno, get her to admit publically that while she is the mother of our child she is not and will never again be our lover or part of our life, for that role is Obella's now?
Only thing I can think of to make her hate this slightly less.

>>4042876
I am fine with whatever. So long as the girl come with us. I guess we can bring all she offered with us except the whole shaming our wife in front of everyone

>>4042876
We take the daughter and the trade deal and the adviser. We claim the daughter at the ball. After tomorrow our connection is with the House Orlisis and the daughter not Ysaeria.

>“And that is all,” Obella adds harshly, “You will try to be the pragmatic Lord that you always try to be, and manage to force to your will with silvered tongue and coin but I have no desire to deal with this woman or family further. I am your wife. I am the Lady of Steadhold. I am the mother of your true-born children Brynden. And I say you will be done with her, as you have been. There is no making both sides happy here.”

Obella straight calling us out here. And every quest ever. There isnt a middle ground option and I think that was designed intentionally. Father you bastard.

>>4042876

We trust Obella to get the information, we turn down Yasaria's offer of spycraft. As we turn down her money, and turn down the flunky she wishes to post in our court. We will take the girl to keep her safe and alive, but that will be the end of it. She will be safe... and raised Westerosi, her ties to the Orlisis broken.

>>4042883
This but with a final addition to the deal, Ysaeria herself is never to set sight on Steadhold. We will deal with her cronies but after this we will never see her or talk to her again.

There is no middle ground here, we either take everything or nothing. Our home life will forever be ruined if we just don't walk here and now so it might as well be worth it if we do agree to anything.

I still say walk and let the daughter decide if she ever wants to see us, letting this woman have any inch of ground in our life will be nothing but trouble for some mere short term gains.

>>4042876
We will take and care for the girl, until such a time as the threat is ended or mitigated. Nothing else.

Sure there's a middle ground option. Make both sides slightly unhappy. That's how trade agreements are supposed to go.

>>4042900
Yes, which is why I am confused that anons are trying to find one. Not surprised, but confused.

>>4042876
Can we ask for time to confer with our wife?

>>4042927
Except for the part were Obella is already unhappy just being here in the first place. Father has made it very clear this is something that she will not forgive or forget, no matter how persuasive we are. I feel as if everyone thinks we'll be able to smooth things with her like we always do down the road but there's a limit to peoples patience and understanding. This is our breaking point with her, if we agree to anything this'll be the end of any good terms between us and Obella. I guarantee she'll leave Steadhold with our daughter when we get home to visit her family in Dorne for months.

Interesting that we've keyed on to the fact that there isn't much of a middle ground here. I wonder if people are underestimating Obella's statement.

I'll let this run a little bit longer and try to come up with a vote. This one is a bit trickier.

>>4042942
She'll tell you the same thing she did before. She wants nothing to do with Ysaeria or the Orlisis family. What else is there to talk about in her view?

>>4042953
Can we still walk away? It would kinda defeat the purpose of the previous vote, but I very much would like to.

>>4042954
That will be one of the voting options, yes. And not entirely, Brynden still gets some closure doing that and it'll sit well with Obella having heard it.

>>4042951
Bingo. And I dont doubt father would do it either.

>>4042951
Hey I don't see what the big deal is here. We're getting money and another daughter. If Obella has some other reason than just not wanting Brynden to have a monetary connection to an ex lover then what is it?
It's not like we want to fuck the bitch anymore.

>>4042953
Well that's clear enough, no deal for me then. Our daughter will have all the conforms and safety she would want in Steadhold. She can keep her banquet, perfumes, couriers we will have none of it.

>>4042972
Whether you see it or not doesn't matter to Obella. She sees a big deal, and Brynden wants her to love him and raise a happy family together. Whether her emotions are rational or not is completely irrelevant.

>>4042953
so just take our daughter and tell her to keep everything else

>>4042986
The benefits to the improvement of House Malroy outweigh the negatives. She should see that.

>>4042996
Again, what she should or shouldn't see doesn't matter. What matters is what she does see and feel. We cannot control her actions and emotions like we can Brynden's.

How to proceed?
>No deal, at all, walk away from everything.
>Deal, with caveats (i.e. no paramour, apologize, no spycraft, etc.)
>Deal, fully

Your daughter:
>Take her
>Leave her

>>4043000
>Deal, with caveats (i.e. no paramour, apologize, no spycraft, etc.)
>Take her

>>4043000
>>Deal, with caveats (i.e. no paramour, apologize, no spycraft, etc.)
Everything but the spycraft and no paramour

>>4043000
>No deal, at all, walk away from everything.
>Take her
If we can without further strings attached. If not, just leave her.

>>4043000
>>Deal, with caveats (i.e. no paramour, apologize, no spycraft, etc.)
>Take her

>>4042996
I'll never not enjoy people not understanding that Father writes his characters with emotional agency. Really makes for a great quest.

>>4043000
>Deal, with caveats (i.e. no paramour, apologize, no spycraft, etc.)

>Take her

>>4043000
>>No deal, at all, walk away from everything.
>Take her

>>4043000
>No deal, at all, walk away from everything.

>>4043000
>>No deal, at all, walk away from everything.
>Take her


this is the best option


>>4043005
>>4043006
>>4043009
>>4043019
Have fun ruining our family life for good guys.

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>>4043016
Yeah, great quest how anons are voting to fuck up our family dynamic.
If I didn't love this quest so much and it wasn't this long, a lost vote like this is where I'd drop it.

Glad some people are seeing the light though.

>>4043000
>>No deal, at all, walk away from everything.
>Take Her

>>4043005
>>4043006
>>4043009
>>4043019
Y'all fucking serious? Money is worth the price Obella is going to make us pay? You're going to tear the family apart, she literally told Brynden do not do this.

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>>4043016
What did you expect? This is 4chan

>>4043000
>>4043009
I'll change my vote to
>>No deal, at all, walk away from everything.
>Take her

>>4043000
>No deal, at all, walk away from everything.
>Take her

This >>4042978 is me, just got home.

>>4043030
Well worth it mate well worth it

Alright calling it here.

That was a tense vote.

Writing now, after my heart stops pounding.

Obella won't be thrilled about bringing your daughter back, but after that display by Ysaeria she will be much more easily convinced of the necessity of it. She'll never like her like she does Victus, but it was probably the closest to a middle ground option you'd get in this situation.

That whole situation became very interesting.

>>4043057
Thanks for the run dad. Was great having you back.

And poor Dorian, Forever the unwanted

>>4043057
Phew. Glad it went the right way and it's a real Brynden thing to do to take his child with him. Not ad bad as I feared after those first couple votes.

>>4043073
Riding the line, it's his greatest talent. Family first and foremost.

>>4043057
Aww gyp

Lord Brynden Malroy’s Persuasion(Intimidate)
DC:21
Rolls: 19,19,25
>Success, one degree.

You stand, hardly a word passing your lips as you do so, licking your lips you allow the fullness of your wildfire to regard Ysaeria. All of her damnable pride and petty insults, just worn upon her lips in that idiotic smile. She barely blinks in response.

“Illiad, Obella, we’re leaving,” you state simply and offer a hand to Obella which she takes to rise.

The look upon Ysaeria’s face is perhaps the first and only time outside of the bedroom you have seen shock upon it. It turns to confusion. To anger. To abject despair. She stutters, going to stand but you had already turned, she reaches across desperately and grabs your hand and you stop regarding her with pity in your eyes as she looks up at you.

“You overplayed your hand Ysaeria,” you say, your voice a low gravelly tone, you carefully remove your hand from hers with a small struggle, “I have little patience for your games, your petty insults, this charade, I have no reason to be here if you cannot court your words properly. All of the money in the world is worth nothing to me if you think I will publicly shame my wife, my family, just for your damned pride.”

She looks at you with tears in her eyes, false tears, they always were before but they had cowed you into submitting when brought forward.

Anger fills your mouth, that she dared to think she could insult you, your wife, your son, your family, and still get you to play her games. It poured from your eyes and you glower at her as your voice raises with words you had long held onto, “This woman before you, she is my life and love. Do not forget that Ysaeria. What may have been between us once in the foolishness of my youth has long since died, and just because you cannot move past it, or seek to use it against me in some prideful game of cat and mouse, does not mean I will abide it. Our, OUR, daughter will know me. I will claim her. And she will be safe with me. But she is the only thread that will ever tie us together again. Keep your coin, your rot perfume, cronies, and contracts, all of it. I swear upon my family’s name woman. Have you another word?”

Ysaeria has shrunk away from your wroth, sitting back in her chair with a stunned look upon her face her mouth gaping. She looks like a child now, not the matriarch of a powerful economic House of the Free Cities. Leaning across you catch her gaze with your hand, pulling her chin to force her look at you in the eyes and whisper your words, “You will apologize to my wife.”

She looks around you and then back to you struggling against your hand to break free which you allow after a moment.

“I- I apologize Lady Malroy for my… My pointed comments.”

“You can not even be humble when cowed into submission, you absolute bitch,” Obella says back with disbelief on her tongue.

Ysaeria’s eyes cast to the ground and you see the realization that you intended to take your daughter with you beginning to settle in.

“Brynden do not take her!” she shrieks at you suddenly, “Not my Visenya! NO YOU HAVE NO RIGHT!”

Visenya, that was her name. The first time you had ever heard it. Of course it was a Valyrian name, the name of a warrior queen. She continues shrieking at you, and you see her Unsullied begin to rouse, hands on their shortswords. Your hand goes to your own sword and Victor and Barq Zos suddenly have your back, hands on their weapons as well. You can feel your anger again and roar, “I HAVE EVERY RIGHT WOMAN!”

Silence falls upon the room and she looks at you with heavy breaths and true tears in her eyes now. She waves her hand and the Unsullied go back to a more neutral stance. Though your own men hardly respond in kind.

“Understand me now Ysaeria. She will return with me to Westeros. And she will become her own woman. Free from the influence of your toxic games and Orveal’s grooming. If she wishes to maintain a relationship with her mother she may, I will not poison her against you, and she may return whenever she wants once it is safe. This is not for debate, Visenya is coming with me.”

She swallows hard, your words coming over her like waves. Her eyes dim when you say her name having realized she lost her card, her hand and bluff in ruins, “Leave,” she says quietly and you are happy to oblige, knowing you had won.

Her wails and the clatter of a tantrum follow you down the halls of the Orlisis Mance and your part remains quiet until you are within your litter and a few blocks beyond the gates.

Obella is the first to speak, “Thank you love.”

You turn to regard her and allow a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, your wroth and anger finally subsiding.

“I am not happy the girl will be coming with us,” she states simply, “But after seeing the mess her mother is I can see why you would want her away from that, especially if it as dangerous here as we have seen.”

“I do not expect you to love her,” you respond put out by the thought, “Nor to be a mother in any sense. Victus has received the best from you and I thank you for that. But Visenya is my own. She will know her father and from where she comes, but otherwise I…”

“Lord perhaps it best to think upon later, no?” Illiad interjects and you nod alongside Obella.

“I cannot believe you ever slept with that harpy,” Obella says after a moment longer. Rummaging about her skirts and pulling the scroll from them. You cast it a curious look before realizing Obella had nipped it during your anger and Ysaeria’s anger had been focused upon you. She smiles at you, “I am never one to turn down good information,” she says with an almost girlish giggle, “Though I am worried that our assets in Myr may be compromised.”

“A worry for later,” you say, “When we return to Long Isle see what has happened otherwise..?”

“It’s in a codex,” she says frowning at the scroll, “I can likely crack it but it will take some time.”

Well at least something decent had come from this. Obella kisses your cheek and you feel a warm come from it as the smell of perfume finally leaves your nose.

---

Day 28, Month X - 285AC ~ Night
Lys - The Orlisis Mance, The Masquerade Ball

The appearance was still necessary Obella and you had determined. If you did not Orveal was just as likely to make a move here than he was in Steadhold. And the proper exchanging of your daughter to your hands in a public forum would force Ysaeria to abide by your word more closely. At least you would get something from this evening.

Obella smiles from you from behind her mask, the same emperor scorpion mask she had worn the night you had met as your entertainment for the night in King’s Landing. Her dress is a striking red, crimson almost, in an Essosi style. She had a sash pinned with three scorpions run across her chest, allowing her midriff to be exposed and the sides of her breasts dangerously close to exposure. The skirts were low in the back trailing behind her where they were split twice in the front almost the entire way up her thighs. From her hair to the sandsnake sandals she wore she was every bit as radiant and beautiful as the day you had married her. That her dress was so daring and sensual compared to the typical Westerosi wear just made you desire her more.

Conversely, you had little time to pick your own mask. But settled on…

How did Brynden dress to the Masquerade Ball?
>Open prompt

Man I don’t know, be creative. A somewhat silly and meaningless prompt but after the seriousness of the last few I could use the break before diving back into it.

Hope I hit that scene how you guys saw it going. That was probably one of the more difficult bits I've done in awhile. I knew just how drastic any decision could have been to the game itself.

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>>4043163
>How did Brynden dress to the Masquerade Ball?
Simple but elegant mask with horses in a roman (Valyrian) style, like picture. For the rest, our family can trace it's ancestors to Valyria and here that counts for a lot, so lets dress in that style while in the colors of our House.

>A cat mask. Not a lion or tiger, a cat. It's not the most manly choice, but fuck it. Plus Brynden likes cats.

Suppose we'll add some choices first impressions are important after all:

>Military Formal
Place the focus on your military accomplishments and the reputation it given you.
>The High Lord
Appear the true and proper Lord of Westeros. Playing on the fact you're an economic and political power at home now.
>The Foreign Lord
Play upon your former reputation as a sell sword of the Free Cities.

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>>4043163
Clearly the only true option

>>4043197
>>Military Formal
>Place the focus on your military accomplishments and the reputation it given you.
+ Cat mask

>>4043197
>The High Lord
With the mask >>4043191

>>4043197
>>Military Formal
But this mask>>4043191

>>4043197
>The High Lord
People in Lys probably care more about economic and political power than military power. + Maybe something to highlight our valyrian heritage?

Just going to QM tiebreak with Military since it is more synonymous with Brynden over the past two years. Been writing.

>>4043263
Fine by me, just hope we keep the mask.

The mask had ended up being simple, a pair of golden horses rear up on either side, the mask itself promising of nothing more than a covering of the top half of your face. Certainly far less ornate than some of the others you had seen as you lead Obella through the ball room. Your garb however is something you’re far more comfortable with, you had decided to lean fully into the military strength of your House and your penchant for war and battle. Even as a sellsword it was synonymous with you, no reason to allow the Lyseni to forget who you were, put a healthy bit of fear in the soft Essosi nobles. Your sword hung from your belt, an insult to some, but to you a sign of strength now. Your riding boots, formal mind you, clicked upon the marble floors, and your armour had been polished to a perfect mirror shine, the onyx plate reminiscent of your Uncle’s, though the gold fittings, chasing, and embossed horse upon your chest more akin to your style. You had only worn your breastplate, leaving the rest as one of your better looking grey gambesons covered by your late brother’s black scale cloak. Your hands were covered in riding gloves, though they were a matching pair with your boots and were more formal than function. Couple with this you had managed to find a servant capable of braiding hair in the dothraki style, and your silver shoulder length hair was now bound up in a number of braids and knots sure to remind the Essosi of your time amongst their disputed lands.

The perfume seemed even stronger somehow here, hanging heavy on the air in what was possible one of the most overwhelmingly extravagant displays of filthy wealth since the King’s wedding Tourney. There were literal woman splayed out upon tables fully nude and hairless, with food rested upon their bodies in some strange artistic form. More than a few of the female guests wore little to nothing besides their masks, a strange fashion from the further east where one breast was exposed and the sexuality of the woman was on full display. Displays of passion were far more common at the Lyseni balls, when compared to the sort of events in Westeros where the worst one might see is a serving wench bouncing on the knee of some hedge knight. You watched a man in the embrace of three women, his fingers buried deep in their loins and his cock in the third as he was fed dates and wine through the moans of pleasure. Obella laughs at the display and you linger a moment recalling a similar memory during your time as a sellsword. The Essosi were good if nothing else than a good party.

You spy Ysaeria surrounded by her Unsullied again, sitting in her father’s throne with a cup lazily hanging from her fingers, wine spilling from it. No doubt she was drunk already, not like that was unusual for her regardless but today was like as might a dark day for her.

Seven knew how long Visenya would be with you, and if she wished to stay in Steadhold after a time, who were you to stop her. The threads between the two of you had been severed beyond your daughter and as you approached the throne you could see the look of resentment and loathing even behind the mask. Your bow is deep, typical of the Lyseni style, though Obella barely graces her with a curtsy.

At this point the game was simple, appearance at court, receive your daughter, make it known who you were, leave. Eyes cast about again and still you do not see a child of her age and you instinctively flex your fingers upon the pommel of your sword, “Many thanks Mistress Ysaeria Orlisis,” you announce rousing her from her drunken stupor, “As always the Orlisis family’s balls exceed expectations.”

She glowers at you, and snaps her fingers standing with a waver as she does so. You cast your eyes about her father’s throne and watch as several Unsullied enter the room and part to reveal a girl. A trumpet flares and the room quiets as your daughter is revealed to the court. Perhaps this had been the first time as Ysaeria glows with pride at the girl. She is dressed in a gown of white, a simple dress with lace work about the edges, as modest as one would expect a Lyseni to be. It takes you a moment to take her in. She was the spitting image of Isis in her youth, to a perfect T. Except her eyes. Those were yours. The wildefire green comes alive when she looks to you with all of the curiosity of a child who had never met a man that looked so familiar before. If there had ever been any doubt in the past that she was your daughter, it had washed away the moment you had locked eyes with her. Her silver hair is tied back with a lavender bow and she smiles sweetly at you before matching eyes with her mother who takes her hand and brings her forward.

Ysaeria speaks in Lyseni to the crowd, mostly family, but a number of powerful nobles as well from Lys and beyond. She gestures to you and you step forward, kneeling before the girl and taking your mask from your face to regard her fully. She smiles at you again before turning to her mother with a questioning look and she begins to speak in common, “I present to you all gathered here today. Lord Brynden Malroy of Westeros. And the father of my child from a past romance long since past.”

Ysaeria kneels beside the tow of you and whispers to Visenya who lights up and throws her arms around you much to the delight of the crowd and annoyance of Obella. Ysaeria comes close to your ear and whispers, “I never spoke poorly of you Brynden. Despite what you did. Remember that when she is with you.”

Ysaeria rises again and announces in Lyseni that Visenya will be spending some time in Westeros, to learn of her heritage and grow as the heir to the House of Orlisis. You catch only the bits and pieces of it but her words are guarded and well placed, despite what had happened yesterday. Visenya is shy you realize, but there was a certainly a lot to be shy of today. Though again her smile lights up when she looks around you and waves to a man. You stand at your full length, the clink of your cloak filling the silence that had entered the ballroom as you stared down Magister Orveal Orlisis. His rage was palpable. The look between yourself and your daughter as she interlaced her fingers in your own spoke nothing but a frothing anger kept in check under a veneer of alleged poise. Odd that a man who condemned his own father to death not to days past had the gull to step to you now.

“This man does not have any right to call himself Visenya’s father Ysaeria,” he spits, “He is a drunkard, who abandoned her in the night like the coward he is.”

Ysaeria spits something back in Lyseni but you hardly hear it instead taking a step forward and placing yourself between yourself and your daughter. He attempts to look you in the eyes but the nearly six inches of height you had on him and the fear of a fully grown version of his teenage tormentor put fear into the man. He clears his throat and two guards step forward, not Unsullied, but sellswords a rarity amongst the Lyseni to keep so openly. You lick your lips and maintain a stiff unflinching stare of wildfire into the eyes of Orveal.

Please roll 5D6+2 for Persuasion(Intimidate)

Rolled 5, 5, 1, 5, 4 + 2 = 22 (5d6 + 2)

>>4043322
Really don't want to roll as I will most likely fuck it up but will try regardless.

Rolled 2, 4, 5, 4, 3 + 2 = 20 (5d6 + 2)

>>4043322
Orveal Orlisis, a worm back then and worm even now.

Rolled 1, 4, 5, 3, 3 + 2 = 18 (5d6 + 2)

>>4043322

>>4043328
22,20,18

Easy pass. Alright writing up last update for the night and the end of the Lys arc.

Lord Brynden Malroy’s Persuasion(Intimidate)
DC:15
Rolls: 22,20,18
>Success, two degrees.

He refuses to meet your gaze even as you step forward and his guards grow more tense. They did not scare you. He might be a powerful man here in Lys. But you cared little for the politics of Essos now, only the King dictated things to you. His eyes scatter to the floor the moment you are nearly an inch away from him and see his mind jump for a solution. His eyes land upon your blade and he nervously licks his cracked lips and steadies his trembling hand.

“Do it Orveal,” you say a near whisper, “Go for my blade.”

He swallows hard, the lump in his throat hardly leaving and one of his guards growls at you which causes you to put your hands up in defense.

“I thought as much you sniveling little worm of a man. I will be taking my daughter, First-Magister or not. You may have your father killed, but you will have no sway over my death. Now walk away.”

His breath shudders with anger and he turns on his heel waving his guards to follow. Obella is soon to your side and in your ear as the crowd begins to come to life again, “I think that may have been ill advised Brynden.”

Perhaps it was, you think to yourself, but he wouldn’t be the first Magister you slighted in Essos, let him come at you, start a war with Crownlands, you were certain the Crown would be keen to add Lys to Westeros. A fanciful dream but still a thought all the same. As a Westerosi you were safe. You turn and find Ysaeria standing over Visenya’s shoulders, her fingers trembling as they squeeze her shoulders reassuringly. Your daughter smiles again at you as the music begins to swell again and you kneel to offer her a hand, “I take it your mother has taught you dance Visenya?”

She nods her head happily and turns back to her mother to receive permission which she slowly agrees to with a nod. Her little hand fits in yours easily enough and you begin to lead your daughter on the first dance with her father about the sprawling hedonism of Lys. For a moment you were able to forget everything else and smile in return to your daughter’s wildfire and childish laughter.

---

Day 5, Month XI - 285AC ~ Morning
Lys - The Museum

Lady Dawn pushes against your hand as you hand her off to a stableboy and enter the museum where you had left the dragonbone for Master Dracon to turn into a proper bow for your family. It was the day before you were set to leave. And while Obella had held onto the fact that your daughter would be returning with you for a few days after she had allowed herself some degree of happiness again with her ladies about Lys to relieve the stress. In truth you did not blame her for that, she was the very image of your family. Obella’s pride was prickled and wounded, though not so poorly as it might have been.

Like as might the best course of action would be to keep them as far away from one another as possible, including sending Visenya ahead to Steadhold on your way back from Lys. You shake your mind of the thought as Victor laughs ahead of you, excitedly chattering about the bow you were to receive and how he was going to bet triple on you during the next Tourney. You join him in his laughter and allow the thought a moment. Master Dracon’s servants lead you to a sitting room for some time, and you idly observe the many portraits of the Kings and Queens of Westeros and you are reminded of the angry child you met last time and you wondered who he might be. Perhaps some sailors child, put into a servant while he was on shore leave, would not be the first time a Valyrian looking child was born of such.

“Lord Malroy!” Dracon’s voice calls with a flourish giving you cause to stand and meet him with a gripped hand which he takes with both and vigorously shakes, “Oh Lord, the bow, she is a masterpiece, please come, come. I must show you my absolute best work in some years.”

You follow the mastersmith to his workshop and find a silk sheet covering the table with a bow shape beneath it. You can feel your smile creeping upon your face as he unveils it with more flourish than his voice. And truly he was correct to say it was a masterpiece. He picks it up carefully and lays the monster of a bow into your hands, you had thought it would weigh much more but it is as light as a yew longbow.

“The bow is fashioned after the greatbows of the Summer Isle, Lord. Their goldenheart bows are unwieldy to many but their kin but couple with your skill with the bow and the dragonbone’s innate properties you should be able to wield this beauty as only a master could. The draw weight should be nothing of concern, yet the arrows she will loose for you will be strong enough to pierce the plate maille of your Westeros Knights, and from a field and a half away at that,” you begin to string the bow somewhat out of practice with longbows but find it is easy to manipulate the bow after a moment of getting used to its girth, you roll your neck and pick the string and draw. Your shoulder ached against higher draw strength but once you locked your shoulder in it kept with such ease you were shocked that you had ever used anything else.

“The adornments,” Dracon begins again, running his fingers along the limbs of shiny onyx dragonbone and over the golden bands that bound it as you ease the tension from the bow, “The words carved into the limbs are that of a battle hymn of Old Valyria, sung to the dragon gods as they marched to battle,” you run your own fingers over the carved horse head chased with gold and inlaid with ruby eyes on either end of the bow that held the bowstring in its teeth and reminded you of your family’s own. The riser is a supple dyed purple leather and the bowstring itself is made up of multiple fibers and sinew and flecked with cloth of gold. The string nock is shaped in the form of a small horseshoe carved from amethyst.

You were at a loss for words at the beauty of the bow. Beyond some of the ancestral valyrian steel blades you had seen before. Truly it was a proper heirloom for your family and you beamed with pride at the greatbow. To think it had been a dusty relic in your father’s study nearly two years ago. And now in your hands it was a beautiful weapon of devastatingly furious power.

“Thank you Master Dracon,” you respond half in shock.

“The pleasure was all mine Lord,” he responds, “Truly she is a weapon meant for the hands of the sons of Valyria themselves. I ask you to use her with pride and cherish her for many generations to come.”

“You’ve my promise Master,” you say with a half chuckle.

---

Day 6, Month XI - 285AC ~ Morning
The Bay of Lys - The Bloody Seahorse

You had taken to sea in the early hours of the morning after a final night of revelry in the Perfumed Sister. Victor’s hangover had gotten the better of him and Barq Zos now roared with laughter as he vomited his breakfast over the side of the Longwaters’ ship. Obella slips her arm through your own, she had been distant, but not fully. No doubt her work on the codex and worry for her spies occupied her mind as much as her disdain for your daughter returning with you. But all the same she kisses you deeply with a warm smile as she places your hand on her stomach over your second true-born child. Not something small to forget. Seven how your family had grown the past two years.

But you knew war was soon to come. The Longwaters had sent another ship to escort you to Long Isle, the pirates having grown bolder in the recent month. Ser Jon would be ready to take ship for the cove the moment you landed, though intended to meet up with the rest of Lord Stannis’ armada in Dragonstone first. You look back at the city, likely for the last time in your life, in all of her majesty in the morning sun but it brings a frown to your face when you recall an old sailors saying, “Red at night, sailor’s delight. Red in the morning, sailor’s warning.”

[End Chapter LXI]

Thank you all for playing as always. That session felt a bit heavy to come back to, but I am glad we got through some of the bigger decisions with good discussion. Felt good writing again even if I wasn't as confident in some of the scenes.

Next session is TBD, I can let you know likely by tomorrow or saturday at the latest. But we will be getting right into war again when we take the fight to these pirates and possibly this Ambrose "Malroy".

I'll be around for questions for a minute or two.

>>4043434
Thanks you for running today. I'm curious, what quests you follow on /qst/?

>>4043434
So how'd you expect it to go?

What's Visenya think about all this?

How annoyed was her mother?

Does anyone know what happened to Boggs?

>>4043434
Thanks for running as always dad and hope ya take care of yourself

>>4043441
Honestly right now nothing. I keep up with Reynold when its running, but nothing else has really caught my interest here on /qst/. In all honesty this is the only board I even use anymore and I've long considered moving the quest elsewhere but this is where the playerbase is so I never did.

I also follow A Tale of Two Seals on fiction.live, but that's only because Aspirational and I have known each other for so long now.

>>4043447
Poorly.

You'll get a better feel for her when she's in Steadhold.

Incredibly. But mostly sad, isn't easy to give up your child.

>>4043451
I too am curious about this, I fell off on keeping up with quests a little after thanksgiving and haven't caught up on his stuff yet but have no idea where you got off to or what happened.

>>4043503
The last big vote in Boggs caused a lot of turmoil. Not spoiling anything but the I believe the winning choice, not a lot of people were happy with as it turned the nature of the quest kind of on its head in how it would be run. I still thought it would've been a neat spin on your usual 'House' quests but it ruffled many feathers.

>>4043503
So we have brought a bastard with us from far away lands. Born out misguided love and passion and is the rightful heir to a great family. The lady of the house only tolerate her at best and is secretly bothered by the fact that of all her husbands children, she looks like him the most.

Is Visenya our Jon Snow?

>>4043965
Sort of, but Visenya has a support structure and a place to return to outside our lands and Castle. She should be more confident in herself than Jon in that regard. But we should be honest to her that the westerosi courts will not be kind to her as they will see her as a foreigner and illegitimate. Our power and influence will protect her from the worse but she will need to be strong herself.

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>>4042486
The liquor makes me see it clearly Rand...

>>4043451
He posted on his twitter before Christmas that he was debating about coming back or not because he found the "Setting/format was too restrictive". The fact he hasn't been back makes me think he probably won't be unfortunately.

>>4043965
>>4043981
I can see the parallels with Jon Snow, only Visenya knows and is loved by both of her parents so slightly different. I definitely agree though that we should be quite "real" with her about the manner of her birth and how the world might treat her but do all we can to try and ensure that she gets to be happy and safe in Steadhold/Westeros. So long as we show her love and affection, I think it will all turn out okay with her like it did Victus.

One other thing to consider though, not only do we have to deal with Osten, but now we've pissed off another Magister in another city. I wouldn't be surprised if Orvael takes a trip to Pentos soon.

Great run though Dad, looking forward to blasting holes in pirate ships with our new toy!

>>4044149
Aren't Lys and Pentos relations suppose to be cold and unpleasant right now?

>>4044149
We are still gonna buy her a pretty dress, right ?

>>4043503
Wait, Aspirational as in from Emperor Quest? That madlad's still at it? Holy shit link pls

>>4044347
>Holy shit link pls
no need, it is shit

>>4044149
Now watch Visenya having inherited Bryndens affinity for horses and they spend much time riding around. Much to Obellas annoyance

>>4044149
>I think it will all turn out okay with her like it did Victus.

Now watch Victus and Visenya going all Targ due to no Westermarck effect

>>4044502
I was going to suggest we set her up with Erick Storm but but he hasn't been born yet.

Can someone give me a rundown of the pirate situation? My memory is hazy on it

>>4045302
Longwater got some pirate trouble. We promised to help them out in accordance with our deals/alliance with them. We also believe that they are in league with our Essosi enemies

>>4044365
aw really? AEQ and R was good shit, what happened

>>4043583
I see that now, caught up with it today. That's disappointing, I liked the direction the quest was going to go in. Though I absolutely would not have had the choice come with the caveat that you would have to "give up" being the ruler of your lands. That whole situation was strange.

Say if I did something similar in the end game for the quest. Brynden becomes the Master-of-Law on King Robert's Small Council. Obviously your first priority is in service to the Crown, Brynden would need to move his base of operations to the Malroy Villa. I would hold a vote for who would act as your Steward/Castellan as you were away and they would do the House Fortunes rolls with their Status and bonuses and a reduced rate (probably every 3 months). Brynden can give directives and still holds the reigns of his House and any major decisions would filter through him first since he is so close by. You would play a game of building your power base in the capital while still maintaining your House's progress back into the major players of the Crownlands. But I couldn't imagine taking away agency of the House itself from players.

>>4043965
It has a similar storyline beat. But Visenya is very different than Jon. Let's just say you guys haven't actually met her yet.

>>4043981
An accurate thought. Visenya is unlikely to be a happy child given where she was just at and where she will be in Steadhold. The Westerosi court, even with Obella's dornish influence, is going to be harsh for Visenya to adapt to, and she is going to have very very little in the way of creature comforts that Ysaeria had provided for her her entire life. Not having Revlan and the other Orlisis servants available is going to isolate the girl a lot, not to mention Obella's distaste for her. Hell the only people that even speaks Lyseni in Steadhold will be Illiad and Illion and the latter is only barely. Brynden is a good father but he doesn't know the girl and has Lorelei and the other child on the way as well, and Victus when he visits to juggle on top of running a house, playing peacekeeper after the Langward war, more war on the horizon, and Obella's pregnancy and subsequent spy trip where Brynden is going to need to remain home.

I understand wanting to take the girl away from Ysaeria, she was written in such a way that her toxic nature would have infected the girl eventually and Orveal's grooming was not something Brynden would stomach either. But fuck guys, no real plan here otherwise.

>>4044149
>One other thing to consider though, not only do we have to deal with Osten, but now we've pissed off another Magister in another city. I wouldn't be surprised if Orvael takes a trip to Pentos soon.
Brynden is good at making enemies with Magisters. Him just not giving a damn this time was more of an extension of his being a true and proper Lord of Westeros and his Family motivator going into overdrive.

I wouldn't say that Orveal will have any cause to take up with a Myrish Magister. But he will certainly take the opportunity to move against Ysaeria now. If he can push her out of the picture it would force Brynden to choose if he will more publicly enter into the politics of the Free Cities and back his daughter's claim to the Orlisis family or allow the family to fall to Orveal and keep Visenya away from the machinations of the Lyseni. It would be an interesting storyline.

>>4044308
She detests dresses.

>>4044396
Well...

>>4044502
Brynden is going to hold the two somewhat apart from one another. Victus is a bit too naive for the type of girl Visenya is.

>>4045302
House Longwaters has had some troubles with pirates in the Narrow Sea. About 6-8 months back, a shipment of iron was lost because of them. Jon has been making an effort to track them down ever since and tapped his alliance with Brynden to help burn them out when he found their cove. Allegedly they are being led by a stripped down King Crab, the ship that belonged to Ser Wilson Celtigar that was captured alongside Lady Helena Celtigar and the youngest Celtigar boy(whose name I've forgotten) with Wilson ending up dead. Lord Celtigar blames Brynden for this, since Wilson fled with his sister after bumble fucking the Celtigar-Malroy alliance. This ship is being captained by an alleged Ser Ambrose 'Malroy', an impersonator that Illiad had the misfortune of running into in Myr and you suspect has ties to Magister Tychano Osten. Similiarly it is suspected these 'pirates' are also the smugglers that are transporting Redward's slaves to Essos.

Anyway, Jon has petitioned his liege (Lord Velaryon), and he has sent ships to couple with Jons. And Lord Stannis Baratheon has sent a flagship as well, Captained by an 'Onion Knight'. Brynden brought some of his own men (who I need to check up on whom against) and you have a reasonable strong force.

The hope is after burning the pirates out you can mend some fences and potentially capture some important pieces in putting together the strongest case against Redward as you can while crippling his income and direct connection to Tychano. Also by helping Jon you stand to gain a closer and more powerful ally by directly helping him with the op.

I think that's everything.

Anyway, no update on next thread yet. I should know by tomorrow.

>>4045572
waifuing, smut and haremfags happend
as it did in aeq
if you like those things, a tale of some seals should fill the holes in your soul i guess

>>4045904
Its literally just porn now. Which sucks because I enjoyed the Empire building aspects way more than the smut

>>4045865
>Brynden is going to hold the two somewhat apart from one another. Victus is a bit too naive for the type of girl Visenya is.

Time for Victus and Visenya to go full on Jaime and Cersei

First off welcome back Father

Hi boy fellas, great job on making the very best out of a shit situation getting involved in Lys was going to get messy and combine with Ysaerias toxic attitude things could have gotten messy really REALLY fast for Brynden and our household and quite frankly leaving the table and denying everything after that ridiculous powerplay was the right call and I definitely say that because I think it's the right course of action and not because I thoroughly enjoyed how it screwed Ysaeria's position.

That said we should be treating Visenya with gloves when we arrive home, Obella's pride has been sorely wounded during this trip and we need to repair it as much as possible to ensure our house is hale & hearty, diving into developing our relationship with Visenya should be at least on something of the backburner until then though not neglected fully as we do need to settle her in to steadhold.

>>4047573
For a dornish woman calling wedterosi culture ass backwards and shit, she sure have no problem hating a little girl for the circumstance of her birth.

I really try to leave my modern sensibilities at home and think within the time period and setting but I just want to slap her and tell her to grow the fuck up and not make the kids life more miserable than it already will be. Calling out one thot for putting her pride first and then doing the exact same thing herself

>>4047704
Dad can't make Obella perfect, he has to give her some character flaws otherwise our life would be too easy. (It is a bit strange she's having a problem or will have a problem with this kid, but I suspect it's more a jealousy thing than a culture thing)

>>4047725
We'll just have to set a good example by... Not drowning Isis' kids? Man, what a family.

>>4047704
The context of our marriage being only a year or two old at most at this is really what's ruling here, Obella is already insecure about her place in our life and the fresh knowledge of not one but two bastards to that dynamic has both wounded her pride and security as his wife, even if she is more accepting than a more westerosi wife this is frontloading a lot of stain on a new marriage and I can't blame her for it because she is young and new to the marriage life.

She could tolerate victus because he was a known issue on the table but both Dorian and Visenya were unknown quantities sprung upon her.

>>4047808
>Phoneposting

Not even once

>>4047808
She doesnt like Visenya because of her mother and she sees her as an actual threat to her children's position. She was more than fine with Dorian and even urged Brynden to bring him and his mother home.

>>4045865
>I should know by tomorrow
He has forsaken us

>>4049797
Dont worry, i am sure Uncle Joe will take good care of us!

>>4047725
Jealousy thing is correct. >>4047808 & >>4048872 absolutely nail what Obella's problem is with this.

I'd remind Obella's biggest motivator is Fame. And that is a combination of things but most importantly right now? Her children. Her creating this legacy of Malroys and rebuilding a House lain low after the Rebellion is everything she wanted. She'll be remembered as this great matriarch who helped to rebuild the House and everyone of her children goes on to do great things. At least in her hope.

Visenya suddenly appearing, and being the very image of a Valyrian Malroy with ties to a powerful Lysene House and her husband. It is a lot. And she sees her as a threat to the legacy she is trying to build.

I won't make Obella some subservient easy wife. You never should have expected that marrying a dornish woman. The HDW giveth and the HDW taketh away.

>>4049797
I know, I know. Came home with a horrendous headache so missed the mark.

Anyway, next session will be Thursday, 30 Jan at 2-3PM EST.

Session will likely consist of war planning with Jon and the others. Talk to Sareya about that major favor. And meeting a dragon priestess. Maybe battle? But not likely.

See you guys then.

>>4050868
>She'll be remembered as this great matriarch who helped to rebuild the House and everyone of her children goes on to do great things.

I was think about this the other day in the context of Brynden. I think he has secure a place of prestige among the most celebrated figures of his house. I mean it a little early into his rule-ship but he already pull the house our of it's darkest hour.

>>4050924
I feel like Brynden is still so laser focused on his revenge that after the whole affair with Redward is done he'll be looking back at all his accomplishments and realize just how much of a great lord he's become. He doesn't seem to care what others think of him still but when he has time to reflect on all of this when he can rest, then he'll be able to fully take in the path he's carved through other houses bringing his own back to prominence.

That is, if we don't die first of course.

>>4050868
Father i was wondering if Obella is gonna wear Malroy colours more from now on in order to solidfy and display her position in the house?

Hey everyone, really sorry to do this put I've come down with a nasty cold and I am not in any condition to be staring at a computer screen today.

I'll be off and on today when I'm not trying to get over this cold. Sorry for that again, was really hoping to keep a better schedule after the break. I'll update when I'll be able to run again next ASAP.

>>4057555
Corona virus... We're losing him!

>>4057763
If he dies we shall make sure he doesn't hear the end of it

>>4057555
Are you dead yet ?

Hey dad, Visenya doesn't have to be a Waters, right? Her mother may be a harpy but if Visenya is considered a foreign immigrant in the eyes of the law and society (just one who happens to have a Lord take an interest in her financial wellbeing) will that help make it clear that our love for our blood has absolutely nothing to do with our re-building of our House? Obviously that won't clear up the air entirely but I think it's important that we make it clear that there will always be a seperation between Brynden the family man who wants his blood to be happy and healthy and Brynden the Lord building a new Malroy dynasty.
Victus, Dorian, and Visenya are NOT Malroys, we love them because of Brynden's blood, not Malroy's name.

I cant wait for tomorrow when Fathers car gets hit by an meteorite and he gets hit by a car on his way to the doctor because he got the space flue so that he will have to cancel the thread!

>>4070235
Oof

>>4070235
Anon pls. A pleasure abstained is a pleasure enhanced.

>>4063670
She's an Orlisis.

>>4070235
Told you guys dad would get the space flu. Hah!