Dramatis Personae:
>Ser Mervyn Reynold, 26, Our MC.
Ser Mervyn grew up the son of a bastard hedge knight who did not know his father and a blacksmiths daughter. After his mother passed at the age of 5, his father began travelling the westerlands to sell his sword to anyone who would hire him. Eventually, the man passed away to a pox when Mervyn was 17, but not before knighting his son. He than took his fathers horse and mule and travelled in the same way. Eventually, he heard of a tourney for a young maiden’s hand, he attended and won handily over many much nobler knights. He now serves the Lady of the House, Elleanor Reynold as her sworn shield.

>Alyssa Reynold, 18, Mervyn’s Wife
Alyssa is a pretty young girl, and mother to hers and Ser Mervyn’s infant son, Marqus. She is driven and tenacious, if not impatient and occasionally jealous, and she has been reared to be a player in the game by her mother. While not considered beautiful as her elder sister might be, her red curls and sea green eyes certainly make her comely. She is gifted at weaving through the art of noble intrigue and has a knack for remembering heraldry and house history.

>Lord Titus Reynold, 46
Lord Titus was born Titus Lantell of Lannisport, and grew up to be a knight who swore his sword to the Lannisters. During the Reyne/Tarbeck Rebellion, he was commanded by Tywin Lannister to march with 300 men to confine the Lady Elleanor, then a maiden of 16 years, and prevent House Reynold from aiding the Reynes and Tarbecks in rebellion as a favour to her father, the late Lord Marqus. A relatively oafish man who cares not for the workings of his house, he is not without a degree of cunning and ultimately seeks to usurp his wife as the true head of the house.

>Lady Elleanor Reynold, 36
Lady Elleanor is a woman who remembers. Once betrothed to Ser Reynard Reyne, she endured losing both her father and betrothed in the span of a year at the age of 16, and was subsequently married off to a lowly knight of Lannisport. She endured the dishonour, even providing 6 children to her husband, all in the memory of her father and Reynard. She is the true power in Ember Peak, and seeks to retain control of her house by any means necessary.

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--- 19/02/283 ---

The Redward Manor house was near the curtain wall of Steadholds Outer Ring. It was a well built and well-furnished house, although the staff on hand was smaller than what might have been expected. Perhaps your time in Lantell Manor in Lannisport had set a standard for you but you did not lack for comfort in your current lodgings.

An elderly servant woman entered your chambers bringing you breakfast served on a tray of wood and iron that she placed on a small table that stood just before the window. It had quickly become your custom to take your meals at that table as you looked out over the bustling town within Steadholds walls. Today it was oatmeal with honey and some small purple fruit that you at first thought to be grapes but upon tasting it decided it was definitely not. It was not lavish fare but it was hearty and you slowly picked away at the meal. It was difficult to be enthusiastic about anything with your thoughts so preoccupied with thoughts of your family back home.

Even your closest men had begun to leave you alone to wallow in your frustration. Ser Walder Erenford had gone so far as to say that you were becoming morose, but he assured you that he would help Ser Austin keep the men disciplined and focused. Ser Walder was a strange man, from the northern riverlands where his house had sworn themselves to House Frey. He had fled his home after his father tried to marry him to some girl. “An ugly sow of a woman with teats that hung lower than a cows” to hear him tell of it. He was a cruel bastard you knew, but where Cardyn Lantell was fire and anger Ser Walder was cold as ice. So much so he reminded you of yourself in a way. You’d thanked him for his words but sent him on his way regardless.

Some time had passed and the sun had risen high in the sky when your thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. Pastorn opened the door and stood politely with his arms behind his back as he waited to be invited in. He soon takes your silence for invitation and cross the threshold to take a seat by your side.

“Good day Mervyn. You’ve eaten I see.”

“Aye, porridge.”

“I had thought to go about riding this afternoon. I don’t believe you’ve had the pleasure of riding in our rings we have about our stables. It might do you well to leave this house. I’ve always found myself at peace when I’m riding.”

The look he gave you would brook no argument. You could hardly argue with the you man as you had not left your chambers since your arrival at the Manor house a week ago. And so the two of you made your way to the small personal stables outside the manor house. It appeared Pastorn had no intentions of letting you refuse his invitation as you found your horse saddled and ready to ride.

---

The thunder of hooves rang out across the circuit as you dug in your heels into your horses sides. Pastorn had not been wrong, it was difficult to dwell on your confusion when you were galloping as fast as your horse would take you. You reined in beside your friend and he looked at you to flash a reserved but noticeable smile before he took off on his valyrian courser as fast as the wind.

You took in the sights about Steadholds inner workings. Horses appeared everywhere you looked as stableboys were grooming and shoeing whilst others were breaking in young foals in a corral. An older man was shouting at a boy as he struggled with the rope tied about the horses bridle. He nearly tossed the boy aside to grab the rope himself and bring the rearing horse to calm. It was one of Malroy’s fabled golden horses you saw and watching the man work the animal was almost like watching a parent calm down a child. There was an almost human like quality to the creature that was disconcerting. Your own steed was a magnificent animal but it was still just that, an animal. Even to your untrained eye you could pick out which horses were those of their fabled Valyrian stock.

“What do you say Ser Mervyn, fancy a race?”

“What kind of race?”

“Three laps of the circuit would suffice I imagine.” He gestured to the well raked dirt path that was wide enough for six men to ride abreast that encircled the entire paddock. Winter did not affect the crownlands like it did the mountains of the west and so although the ground was waterlogged there was still small bits of dull grass poking through the dirt.

Pastorn’s steed whinnied sharply, as if sensing his masters excitement. His name was “Pride” you knew and he truly was worthy of the epithet. Pastorn reached down to pat the animal on the neck softly and seemed to whisper something in it’s ear and the beast calmed but still pawed at the ground as if anticipating the need to run.

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“Well if I don’t that beast of yours looks ready to buck you off, so for your sake I’d better agree.”

Pastorn laughs at that. He truly laughed at that, as loud as you had ever heard him. He went so far as to even slap the side of his leg in his mirth. He favors you with a grin showing nearly all of his teeth.

“Pride would never throw me. Seven hells, he’s never even tried to buck me at all. It’s like something I can’t explain, some sort of bond that the two of us share. My father has a saying about how the horses of House Malroy were our dragons and perhaps theres some truth in that.”

He took off at a canter and you are made to follow as the two of you line up side by side. You take a deep breath and grip your reins tightly in your left hands as you give your own horse a pat with your right. You flex your legs and stand in your stirrups and look over to Pastorn. He hailed a stableboy and informed him that he would need to drop a piece of cloth to signify that start of the race. The boy deftly takes the piece of cloth and hurries and climbs the fence that encloses the race track.

Leaning forward with anticipation, the flag touches the ground and not a moment later you were off…

Can I get 5d6 for Animal Handling please?

Rolled 3, 3, 5, 6, 2 = 19 (5d6)

>>4374600

Rolled 4, 4, 1, 2, 6 = 17 (5d6)

>>4374600

Rolled 3, 2, 2, 1, 6 = 14 (5d6)

>>4374600

Alright and can I get 5d6 for Agility (quickness) from your noble steed please

Rolled 1, 4, 5, 1, 4 = 15 (5d6)

>>4374622

Rolled 6, 2, 6, 6, 4 = 24 (5d6)

>>4374622

Rolled 3, 4, 3, 1, 1 = 12 (5d6)

>>4374622

Some pretty good rolling to start the thread, but is it enough? Writing

--- Ser Mervyn’s Horse Agility (Quickness) Test ---
Rolled 22 vs Pride’s Roll of 23
Result: Pastorn Malroy ahead by 1 length

You dug your spurs into your horses flanks and he took off like a flash of lighting. You were hunched over in the saddle and you were eating up ground as fast as your horse could manage. You gave the smallest of looks towards Pastorn and could see him pulling ahead. By the gods that horse was fast. By the time the two of you were beginning to approach the first corner he was already a full length ahead of you.

--- Ser Mervyn’s Animal Handling (Ride) Test ---
Rolled 17 vs Pastorns Roll of 23
Result: Pastorn Malroy ahead by 2 lengths

You cursed under your breath and tightened your grip on the reins. Pastorns horse may have been faster but you could still pull ahead on him during the corners if you rode well enough. You hugged your horse with your legs only slowing down enough to ensure that you would not fall off and drove towards the inside. Unfortunately, Pastorn was no fool and had the same idea and he managed to pull his lead to nearly two lengths as the two of you rounded out from the first corner…

5d6 please and thank you

Rolled 1, 4, 4, 3, 4 = 16 (5d6)

>>4374662

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

>>4374662

Rolled 2, 3, 1, 5, 6 = 17 (5d6)

>>4374662

And 5d6 again for your horses quickness

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

>>4374676

Rolled 3, 6, 6, 3, 6 = 24 (5d6)

>>4374676

Rolled 5, 2, 5, 5, 4 = 21 (5d6)

>>4374676

--- Ser Mervyn’s Horses Agility (Quickness) Test ---
Rolled 21 vs Pride’s Roll of 21
Result: Pastorn Malroy stays ahead by 2 lengths

Once you came out of the corner and on to the straight away you dug in with your spurs again to push your horse for all he was worth. The beast didn’t whinny or shy away from the instruction but instead quickened his pace. It felt almost as if you were flying such was the speed you were riding. Pastorn was still two lengths ahead but he had not managed to pull away any further. Pride was kicking up clods of dirt, mud and snow as galloped away and you kept him in your sights.

--- Ser Mervyn’s Animal Handling (Ride) Test ---
Rolled 16 vs Pastorn’s Roll of 15
Result: Pastorn ahead by 1 length

You watched carefully as Pastorn guided his horse around the corner. He barely applied any pressure to the horses sides or reins, instead the two moved almost as one being. Man and horse combined into a something else. The word “centaur” suddenly flashes into your head as you remember a moment where Alyssa and Andrea were teaching you the houses of the Reach. One of them had a centaur for a sigil. You pulled on your reins to the left to bank wide just before the corner and turned hard to the right, cutting down the distance with which you had to ride. You closed the gap between you to a single length of a horse which became evident as a clod of mud from Pride’s hooves spattered over your doublet. You cursed in annoyance and steeled yourself to attempt to take the lead, or at least even the race.

I’ll take 10d6 just to speed things along this time. First 5 are for Mervyn’s Horse, Second 5 are for Mervyn himself.

Rolled 1, 3, 1, 5, 1, 5, 2, 4, 2, 6 = 30 (10d6)

>>4374704

Rolled 5, 3, 1, 2, 4, 4, 3, 4, 5, 5 = 36 (10d6)

>>4374704

Rolled 6, 2, 3, 2, 2, 5, 1, 1, 3, 1 = 26 (10d6)

>>4374704

Rolled 6, 4, 4, 5, 6, 3, 1, 4, 2, 2 = 37 (10d6)

>>4374704

--- Ser Mervyn’s Horses Agility (Quickness) Test ---
Rolled 15 vs Pride’s Roll of 23
Result: Pastorn Malroy pulls ahead to two lengths

As much as you encouraged your horse to greater feats of speed it seemed to have reached it’s peak whereas Pride seemed to pull away on you once more. You snapped your reins and dug into your spurs and even shouted encouragement but your horse could go no faster. While Pastorn’s horse may have been faster, you were an equal rider to the young man and prepared to take the inside on the shortest line possible.

--- Ser Mervyn’s Animal Handling (Ride) Test ---
Rolled 18 vs Pastorn’s Roll of 16
Result: Pastorn ahead by 1 length

You leaned into the corner as far as you would dare to go, leaning almost horizontally to bring your horse around the corner tighter. The distance closed in the corner once again and you watched as Pastorn looked back over his shoulder and could hear him laugh happily on the wind.

--- 10d6 please. Last stretch of the race. Mervyn could tie it up here ---

Rolled 3, 5, 6, 2, 6, 5, 1, 5, 1, 4 = 38 (10d6)

>>4374735

Rolled 2, 5, 4, 2, 5, 1, 1, 6, 3, 1 = 30 (10d6)

>>4374735

CENTAUROMACHY ENGAGED

Rolled 1, 3, 3, 3, 4, 1, 1, 6, 2, 2 = 26 (10d6)

>>4374735

Writing!

--- Ser Mervyn’s Horses Agility (Quickness) Test ---
Rolled 20 vs Pride’s Roll of 25
Result: Pastorn Malroy pulls ahead to two lengths

No matter what you seemed to do you could not close the distance on the straightaways. You had to commend the Horsemaster of Steadhold for the breeding of such an animal and you watch as it pulls on you again with seemingly no effort.

--- Ser Mervyn’s Animal Handling (Ride) Test ---
Rolled 15 vs Pastorn’s Roll of 17
Result: Pastorn pulls ahead to three lengths

In an attempt to catch up you tried for a fourth and final time to cut the distance between the two of you in the corner. This time the manoeuvre backfires when Pastorn cuts out and then back in to pull ahead and you found yourself hurdling straight towards the wooden fence. You pull in your reins with an iron grip and turn your horse with your legs but the distance was too much. You rode in behind Pastorn by nearly three full horse lengths. You rein up beside him once more and he flashes you a grin.

“You ride well Ser Mervyn, but no ordinary horse can match one of the legendary coursers of House Malroy.”

“You as well Pastorn. I think I’ve found a name for my horse too.”

“Oh? And pray tell what that might be.”

“Fools Gold.”

That brought fourth an undignified snort from Pastorn and he slaps his leg. “Pyrite indeed. I have to say…”

The two of you were interrupted by the sounds of horns and trumpets echoing faintly in the air. Pastorn swivels in his saddle to hear the sound more clearly.

“Those horns…Donold’s returned.”

Without so much as another word he took off flying towards the stables. You follow him but by the time you reach the stables he has already dismounted and was half running towards the castle proper. You ride into the stables to the satisfying sound of iron horseshoes on cobblestone and dismount. This time instead of a young stable boy your horse was taken by an older man.

“Make sure to rub him down and take care that my tack is taken care of.”

“Of course milord.”

You went to leave the stables to catch up to Pastorn but found your way blocked by a man who looked like he was in his early fifties. He leaned on one of the stall posts and looked you up and down as he appraised you.

“You’ve the makings of a decent rider. You got a name?”

The impertinence of the man caused you to blink back a brief moment of shock.

“I…yes. Ser Mervyn Reynold.”

“Beg yer pardon Ser. Gawen. Lord Malroy’s Horsemaster.”

He extended a hand and when you shook it his grip was one of a strength to match your own. He walked back towards your stable and soon enough your horse was walking forward in his stall to meet him. The horse nuzzles into the mans chest and he strokes it with a surprising tenderness and whispers in it’s ear. To your shock the horses whinnies quietly back and the man nods his head solemnly. .

“Like I said, you’re a decent rider and this here is a fine steed, but you ain’t ever going to beat a Malroy courser of the old blood with him. Those horses have some magic in their blood, and the bonds I’ve seen between man and steed. They almost take on the personality of their master, some connection or what not. I’m glad to see my boy here is being ridden by capable men and not a couple of wastrels from the West. I’m always telling his lordship to be more careful whom he sells to. Most ain’t worthy of the pedigree.” He looks at you for a moment, a shrewd look in his eye, before he waves off his thoughts and shoos you out. “Go on, you were chasin’ after young Pastorn. Them horns means ‘is brothers back. I got to prepare for all them horses comin’.”

---

As you walked into the great hall, Lord Vamos announced that a feast was being held to honour the return of Steadhold’s heir. He surprisingly looked little like either of his siblings, being ruddy of hair and dark of eye and none of the elegant graceful limbs that Pastorn and Isis possessed. He was thick about the waist and chest with a powerful build but you could tell even from this distance. A small round of applause went up from the cohorts about the hall but still it remained largely quiet.

Ser Donold Malroy wore a mask of quiet anger on his face as he stood before his father and before long the court was dismissed to allow for a private meeting between father and son. Whispers went through the crowd like wind and you caught bits and pieces of what you had missed. The “Battle of the Bells” had been lost. Lord Robert Baratheon had escaped again. Lord Connington had been replaced as hand. Perhaps most disturbing of all was the talk of a large host gathering at the border between the Vale of Arryn and the Riverlands. War would soon be upon you once more.

---

The feast was a small but lavish event. You were seated amongst household knights and other people appropriate to your station and were still dining on good red meat and marrow. After nearly five courses you begged your leave from your table mates to relieve yourself. Wandering the halls as you looked for a privy you managed to get yourself hopelessly lost. Turning a corner, you collided with a man and the two of you both ended up on your backsides.

“Watch where you’re going. Seven fucking hells.” The man said the words with a snarl in his voice as he regained his footing. It took you but a moment to realize that you had bumped into Ser Donold Malroy.

--- How does Ser Mervyn react? ---
>Politely
>Angrily
>Sarcastically
>Something Else (Write in)

>>4374964
Well I would if I was familiar with the place Ser Malory, but I can’t even find the privy. My pardon about the unfortunate colllission.

>>4374964
>Politely

>>4374964
>>Sarcastically

>>4374964
>Politely

>>4374964
>>Sarcastically

>>4374964
>Politely
Merv has already been warned about making more disturbances. Insulting the heir in his castle is a disturbance for sure

>>4374964
>Politely

Calling it for polite. Writing

“You’re Donold Malroy?”

“That’s SER Donold Malroy to you. Who are you anyways? I don’t know you.”

“Ser Mervyn Reynold. Master at arms at Ember Peak and Captain of the Loyal Reins. I apologize for bumping into you, I’m just looking for a damn privy.”

You’d extended your hand out to introduce yourself but Ser Donold only looks at it with a mildly confused look on his face. Awkwardly it returns to your side and Donold Malroy favors you with a frown.

“Do I look like a servant to you? You can ask any of them to escort you.”

He goes to take his leave but stops suddenly in his track. Turning on his heels he favors you with a look that was bordering on recognition.

“You were the man Pastorn met at Harrenhal.”

“I can’t speak to how many men he might have met but we did meet there yes. We fought together during the melee.”

Donolds face darkens at the mention of the melee. “No, you are the one he speaks of. You’ve a family in the Westerlands. He told me about how he held your son.”

“I suppose then yes, I am.”

“A man of low birth, married to a noble woman.” His lips curled upwards slightly and his face looked as if he had stepped in something mildly unpleasant.

“Aye. That’s me.” Your reply was flat. You knew where the conversation was heading at those words. He was an heir to a proud and noble house, and you were mud that had somehow attached itself to a noble family and had yet to be washed off.

Ser Donold Malroy nods his head to you and takes his leave without so much as another word. A frown falls heavy on your face and you can feel your fingers curling into a fist but you leave the man to his exit. You decide to take his advice regardless and a servant points you in the direction of the privy and you set off to relieve yourself.

---

The feast ended with a desert of apples that were dipped in thick, heavy molasses that had been sweetened with sugar. You savored the first piece you ate but left it at that. It was sickeningly sweet and almost felt as if it was going to make your teeth rot.

The head table was largely empty apart from Lord Vamos and his two sons, and once the desert had been finished the three of them were quick to disappear. Pastorn appears by your side and even joins your table for a brief moment. He says his hellos politely to the men you were sitting with but looks to you with a more serious gaze.

“Ser Mervyn, my father has called a war council. I thought it would be prudent to at least offer you an invitation. Donold brings ill news and there has been word from King’s Landing…”

--- Attend the war council as Pastorn’s guest? ---
>Yay
>Neigh

>>4375157
>Yay

>>4375157
>Yay

>>4375157
>Yay

>>4375157
Yay

>>4375157
>Yay

>>4375157
>Yay

>>4375157

>Yay

>>4375157
>>Yay

>>4375157
>Yay

Well that's a resounding yes, even if Donold might not be a fan. Right on. I'll get writing

“My thanks Pastorn, I’ll be glad to attend.”

“Follow me Ser, although I apologize for my bluntness but I will ask that you don’t speak out of turn like you did at Ashford. My father has a short temper on the best of days and my brother well…he is a man who believes in a certain order of things. He is not like to appreciate a man of your birth speaking out of turn.”

“I’m acquainted with him so don’t fear on my account. And you have my word.”

“Oh? I didn’t believe the two of you had met. Harrenhal?”

You shook your head. “A hallway not an hour ago. I rounded a corner and bumped into him. We knocked each other on our asses.”

Pastorn sucked his teeth as the two of you were walking the same route that Isis had led you by not a week ago towards Lord Vamos’ solar.

---

You entered through the door and found Lord Vamos sitting at the head of a table of a small group of men. One empty seat was set aside for Pastorn but you soon felt a number of eyes falling upon you. Some were neutral, like the eyes of an older man with a bushy grey beard and full moustache, whilst others were full of confusion and contempt like those of Ser Donold. It was Lord Vamos who broke the silence however at your approach.

“Ah, Ser Mervyn. I hadn’t expected you.”

“I invited him Father. I thought to include him as he still has some one hundred and twenty men with him and should have a place here as their representative.”

“Yes yes, well, take a seat Ser. Donold was about to go over the news from the “Battle of the Bells”.

He waved his hand nonchalantly towards a side table and chair which you walk towards so as to pick up a chair that you place somewhat awkwardly at the end of the table besides the grandfatherly man. Ser Donold looks at you with a scowl but he waits for you to finish before he begins.

“We had Lord Robert trapped in the Stony Sept. Lord Connington had ordered us to search the town building by building.” The young heir grits his teeth and balls his hands into fists before bringing them down towards the table with a thud. “He only forgot to ensure that look outs were placed in his vain glorious attempt to end this rebellion single handed. We knew that the rebel host was close, but while we were searching for Baratheon we heard horns to the north, before we knew it we were battling in the streets against knights of the Vale and savage northmen clad in nothing but furs. Ser Vance saved my life Father. Without him I fear I may not sit here before you.”

He gestured towards a large and stout man sitting two spots down and across the table from him. The man was of a similar build to yourself if you had aged twenty years and eaten to richly. His doublet strained to contain his belly but he still looked powerful to your eyes. His head was bald on the top but around the sides it still grew out long. The red and grey hair was tied back into a pony tail, and his beard of the same colouring had begun to grow out to the point of looking shaggy.

“Nonsense milord. You saved my life near enough to three times. It is I who owe you thanks, not the other way around.”

“Donold, continue. Ser Vance, we shall speak after this is said and done.”

Ser Vance Redward nodded his bald head and allowed Ser Donold to continue in his telling.

“Lord Connington was nearly slain, and Baratheon has joined with both Stark and Arryn forces. Scouts and loyalist forces in the northern riverlands informed us that a large host was massing north of the trident. We’ll beat them Father. I’ll beat them Father. I just need the chance to prove myself.”

There was anger, and no small amount of shame in Donold Malroy’s voice. You could hear it as plain as day. You were not an especially intuitive man but you knew shame and regret well enough to recognize it when you saw it. These were loyal dragon men, and it was plain to see that the heir to Steadhold placed no small share of the blame of not ending the rebellion on his own shoulders.

“We will my son. We will. King Aerys has already put his forces on the march up the Kingsroad. They’ll be here on the morrow, and the day after, we march with them. A host made of Crownlanders, Reach and Dornishmen near fourty thousand strong is marching to see that these rebels are put to the sword as they deserve!”

That got a large hurrah from the men at the table along with a chorus of thuds from fists and hands hitting the table enthusiastically. “Jonos, you will assist Pastorn in ensuring that Steadhold is held whilst the bulk of her defenders are away.”

“Aye m’lord.” The man next to you nods in the affirmative but Pastorn stirs angrily.

“Father, I can fight. I’ve already fought at Ashford. Let me take the field beside you and Do…”

“I’VE MADE MY DECISION!” Vamos shouted loud enough to quell the defiance in his son, although the two do make eye contact. “Pastorn, there will be a Malroy in Steadhold. I will not risk our houses future by having the three of us take the field together.” His voice softened slightly at his last few words but Pastorn gave no way of reply, instead only staring at his father with his ever present morose look. Lord Vamos instead directed his attention towards you.

“Ser Mervyn. I have heard from numerous sources that you and your men acquitted yourselves well, but as I fear that there are some in the Crownlands who will balk at having you with us. Lord Tywin has still yet to declare for either side, yet he has called his banners. There are many in these lands who may call you traitor or seek to have you imprisoned. As such, I will recommend that you attach your unit to the Reachmen as you have previously fought alongside them.” A comment about making your name well known could be heard but you could not place from where. “Or, amongst the Dornish. News is always slow to reach Dorne and seeing as they too have kept their hands clean up until this point I believe few will begrudge you. And so, I will respectively place you and your men under the command of either the Dornish or Reach contingent, which do you choose?”

--- Whom to serve under during the “Battle of the Trident” ---
>Prince Lewyn Martell of the Kingsguard and his Dornish contingent. Lord Vamos spoke true, perhaps it was best to associate yourself with other men who have largely kept themselves out of the war.

>Lord Arnold Oakheart of Old Oak and the Reach Contingent. There may be merit in the idea that fighting with those who already know your name (for better or worse).

>>4375674
Won't we miss the sack of King's Landing or the sack of Steadhold if we participate in the Battle of the Trident? Or will we force march back after the loss? Anyway,

>Lord Arnold Oakheart of Old Oak and the Reach Contingent. There may be merit in the idea that fighting with those who already know your name (for better or worse).
Any bridges made with Dorne are going to burn completely and then some after Elia and her children are killed. Better to build and maintain connections in the Reach, who are not as attached to the dragons after the war.

>>4375674
>Prince Lewyn Martell of the Kingsguard and his Dornish contingent. Lord Vamos spoke true, perhaps it was best to associate yourself with other men who have largely kept themselves out of the war.
Let's see some new faces

>>4375674
>Prince Lewyn Martell of the Kingsguard and his Dornish contingent. Lord Vamos spoke true, perhaps it was best to associate yourself with other men who have largely kept themselves out of the war.

>>4375705
Kinda meta though. I expect Mervyn has had enough of uptight assholes like Tarly and Donold for the time being. Going with Martell and the Dornish will be fresh air to him.
Also this will amplify the future Dornish butthurt towards the Westerlands if we end up backstabbing them or something.

>>4375705

I would prefer less metagaming and more character interpretation to make these decisions. Please stop metagaming so hard.

>>4375674

>The Reach

Because Lord Vamos recommended it, and Merv might feel he has something to prove to the bastards.

>>4375674
>Prince Lewyn Martell of the Kingsguard and his Dornish contingent. Lord Vamos spoke true, perhaps it was best to associate yourself with other men who have largely kept themselves out of the war.

>>4375674
>>Prince Lewyn Martell of the Kingsguard and his Dornish contingent. Lord Vamos spoke true, perhaps it was best to associate yourself with other men who have largely kept themselves out of the war
Let's have some downtime shall we?

>>4375674
>Prince Lewyn Martell of the Kingsguard and his Dornish contingent. Lord Vamos spoke true, perhaps it was best to associate yourself with other men who have largely kept themselves out of the war
I think in character it would make allot of sense for Merv to avoid the reachmen as much as possible... Especially if Randall Tarly is leading them still. Besides, now we may get lucky and get to join the war council.

>>4375674
>Prince Lewyn Martell of the Kingsguard and his Dornish contingent. Lord Vamos spoke true, perhaps it was best to associate yourself with other men who have largely kept themselves out of the war.

I'll be continuing this afternoon, but I will say that The Battle of the Trident happens in month 4, and The Sack of Kings Landing happens in month 6.

>>4376198

RIP Pastorn. I was about to say we name a son after her but our babymaker is broken

>>4375674
>>Prince Lewyn Martell of the Kingsguard and his Dornish contingent. Lord Vamos spoke true, perhaps it was best to associate yourself with other men who have largely kept themselves out of the war.

>>4375674
>Prince Lewyn Martell of the Kingsguard and his Dornish contingent. Lord Vamos spoke true, perhaps it was best to associate yourself with other men who have largely kept themselves out of the war.

>>4375771
>I think in character it would make allot of sense for Merv to avoid the reachmen as much as possible... Especially if Randall Tarly is leading them still. Besides, now we may get lucky and get to join the war council.
Makes sense to me

>>4375674
>>Prince Lewyn Martell of the Kingsguard and his Dornish contingent. Lord Vamos spoke true, perhaps it was best to associate yourself with other men who have largely kept themselves out of the war.

Well I think it's pretty safe to call it for fighting with the Dornish. What could possibly go wrong?

>>4376210
Anon please. Are you implying Mervyn won't father a bastard son somewhere in a fit of emotional weakness and massive shame for betraying his love for his wife, who looks exactly like him and due to his small folk upbringing raise the boy as his son regardless of what Alyssa thinks putting even more strain on their marriage and her health? Because that sounds like fun to me...

>>4376412
No ofcourse not, i would never suggest such a thing.

So long we dont tell her about our sleeping around and dont bring any bastards home we should be safe

>>4376412
Pfffttt. As if anons won't try to white knight our way out of this and try to save every lowborn girl in King's Landing..

The choice was an easy one to make it. You’d had a bellyful of dealing with Reachmen and found that for the most part you did not enjoy the taste. There were exceptions of course, such Ser Austin Osgrey who had been your loyal man for over a year and Lord Peake who had been a refreshingly practical man for one of such high birth. For the most part however you found them to be insufferable. Lord Tarly was an obvious stain on your opinion of the men of the Reach, what with him being an insufferable bastard when it came to protocol and the merit of ones birth. Ser Owen Osgrey was a man who was grasping and one that you now owed a favor to, a thought you ill liked. Even Lord Rowan was a man who although you respected him, there was little in the way of mutual appreciation of one another.

“If it makes no matter to you m’lord me and mine will ride with the Dornish. As you say, perhaps it’s best to let sleeping dragons lie.”

“I’m glad you are of the same mind Ser Mervyn. I shall inform Prince Lewyn when the grand host arrives. I hope you understand that the scouts that have come with you will be assigned separately from yourself. If I am correct they will most likely be put under the command of Ser Boniface Byrch.”

“I understand. Scouts don’t belong with heavy cavalry.”

“Just so. Anyhow, as I was saying. Jonos, Pastorn, you have your duties. Donold, Vance, you shall both ride with me. Will your boy be accompanying us Vance?”

Lord Vamos asked the question politely but there was still that ever present tone of disdain that came when speaking of bastards that you knew so well. Both Pastorn and Donold glowered at the question and you could see Ser Vance redden slightly.

“He…he is milord. I’ve placed him in command of my crossbowmen. Many of them are among his friends and he will cause no trouble amongst their number. I swear it.”

“Well enough Vance. We’ll take every man we can find. Now, if there are no further questions, you are all dismissed.”

Chairs scraped against the stone floor as both Pastorn and Donold made for a quick exodus out of the chambers. Ser Vance Redward lingered while both you and the man known as Jonos left the room at a more polite pace.

--- Who would you like to speak to before you leave Steadhold tomorrow? ---

>Ser Sandor Hill, one of your oldest friends and leader of your scouts.
>Ser Pastorn Malroy, one of your newest but closest friends
>Someone Else (Write in)
>Nobody, time skip to your departure

Please specify what it is you’d like to talk about, if anything at all.

>>4376567
>Nobody, time skip to your departure

>>4376567
>Nobody, time skip to your departure

>>4376567
>Ser Pastorn Malroy, one of your newest but closest friends

Wana spend the most time as we can.

>>4376567
>Ser Pastorn Malroy, one of your newest but closest friends
>RIP, friend

>>4376567
>Ser Pastorn Malroy, one of your newest but closest friends
He’ll be safe here...right OP?

>Next time we meet I'll be 6 feet taller

>>4376567
>Ser Sandor Hill, one of your oldest friends and leader of your scouts
He might have some insight into what we'll be having. Plus we should get on the same page, should this all go south. Just saying

>>4376567
>Ser Sandor Hill, one of your oldest friends and leader of your scouts

Need to determine a rally point if things go tits up

>>4376745
That's a pretty good reason, actually.
Changing >>4376586 to
>Ser Sandor Hill, one of your oldest friends and leader of your scouts

>>4376567
>>Ser Sandor Hill, one of your oldest friends and leader of your scouts.

Timeskip - 2
>>4376570
>>4376575

Pastorn Malroy - 2
>>4376576
>>4376621

Sandor Hill - 4
>>4376644
>>4376745
>>4376751
>>4376783

Cool. I just have to whip up some dinner here and eat but I'll get writing asap.

Looking like mostly talking about a rally point if it all should go south. Feel free to throw out any other topics for conversation in the meantime

You found Ser Sandor Hill sitting around a fire in an encampment within Steadholds walls but entirely apart from the bustling small town. That had not surprised you in truth, he was always a man who had preferred to sleep with the stars above his head instead of a roof. He had even refused an offer to reside within Ember Peak and instead had built a small homestead somewhere in the Auric Hills for himself when he was not on duty, although such an event was rare. He flashed you a crooked smile as you approached and raised a clay mug to your presence before the rest of the scouts at the fire joined in as well.

“Well well well, look what we have ‘ere boys. A highborn lad that seems to have lost ‘is way.”

“Go to Hell Sandor.” You rolled your eyes at the man and he only grinned wider as he welcomed you to the fire.

“Of course m’lord, of course. Go on lads, someone find him a proper throne to sit on. Such tender cheeks won’t last sitting on stone and logs like the likes of us.” That brought jeers of laughter from the men and by way of reply you grabbed the man nearest to you by the shoulder and yanked him hard off of his seat. The scouts were all hard men, either raised in the mountains or forced there by necessity, and all were used to such brusque leadership.

“I think this one will do me fine.” You say it as you sit down on the rough hewn stump. A man passes you a skin and when you taste it you find warm beer in your mouth but you swallow it all the same. No need to give your men an excuse to snigger behind your back.

Before you could enjoy another sip of the swill the man you had pulled into the mud had risen. “Leave ‘im be Jon. Leave ‘im be.” Sandor warned the man but he still glowered at you with anger in his eyes.

“I ain’t no man to be laughed at Ser. If Ser here wants ta laugh at me I say e’s gotta earn it.” He took a few steps backwards and raised both of his fists, already having unbuttoned and rolled his sleeves up to his elbow…

--- How to handle the situation? ---
>Humor the man (Fighting/Brawling)
>Scare him into submission (Persuasion/Intimidate)
>Order the rest of the unit to subdue him (Warfare/Command)

>>4376940

>Humor the man (Fighting/Brawling)

Let's go.

>>4376940
>Humor the man (Fighting/Brawling)

>>4376940
>Humor the man

>>4376940
>Humor the man (Fighting/Brawling)

Nice. I mean who wouldn't need a release after all Merv's been through?

Can I get 5d6 for fighting please

Rolled 5, 1, 6, 1, 1 = 14 (5d6)

>>4377001

Rolled 5, 6, 6, 3, 4 = 24 (5d6)

>>4377001

1 fist 2 fist red face blue something

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

>>4377001

>>4377010
Mervyn NO! He's on your side!

>>4377010
h-he's already dead

Rolled 1, 2, 3, 5, 3 = 14 (5d6)

>>4377001

>>4377010
>>4377001
Can we go easy on the guy? Since it's a high roll, a strong jab to show force and then a few to enternain and keep him dodging rather than hurt

>>4377038
Entertain*

>>4377038
Agreed. I want to show the guy he's fucking outclassed this a friendly brawl and we ain't Cardyn Lantell.

Sorry I got distracted with some household chores. Currently writing.

>>4377038
>>4377054
Mervyn won't be fighting dirty but the men will absolutely know not to fuck with Mervyn Reynold.

“Now Sandor, if Jon here thinks he’s man enough to redeem the slight on his honour I say let him.” You turned back to the man and saw he was practically bouncing at the opportunity. “What do you say Jon? You think you’re a man who can beat me?”

He simply hawks a wad of phlegm and spits it to the cold ground below to a roar of cheers as men from other fires began to wander over at the commotion. Men from Sandor’s fire however were beginning to stand and surround you in a loose circle. A smile crept onto your face as you heard men taking bets.

“Right someone help me out of this damn doublet.” Laughter fills the air but two men come forward to assist you. A few buttons and some guidance later and you were standing bare chested before your men, goose flesh crawling up your arms in the cold winter night.

Your opponent was a small and rangy man, with cords of muscle that were clearly defined in the firelight. The crowd was cheers and you walked forwards slowly with your arms lowered. The man was quick to take advantage of your confidence and threw as hard a right hook as he could directly towards your chin. You stood tall and stared back at the man with your empty blue eyes.

--- Ser Mervyn Reynold’s Fighting (Brawling) Test ---
Rolled 24 vs Combat Defense 7
Four Degrees of Success
2 Damage (Athletics-3) x 4 = 8 Damage
9 Health – 8 = 1 Health

--- Jon of Short Trees ---
Rolled 11 vs Combat Defense 12
Attack Failed

You must have looked like a demon as you smiled in the orange and red light from the fire washed over you if the look on Jon’s face was any indication. Elsewise he had realized that he had just struck a nobleman and had begun to worry for his fate. You spat a small gobbet of blood to the ground and threw two jabs in quick succession that catch the man by surprise and once he raised his guard to protect his face you take a quick step in and send a strong undercut into the mans gut. You could hear the air leave him as you pushed him by the shoulders to create a gap between you once more.

He hurriedly tried to close the gap with a clinch but he wasn’t strong or skilled enough to overpower you. You grunted as he sent a flurry of punches into your stomach but the blows were like the bites of flea. Cheers went up as men from both sides at the exchange. With your left arm you grabbed the man by the shoulder and with the right you gave him a right cross that brought the man to his knees.

It would have been all to easy to bring your knee into the mans face and knock him out cold. Hell a couple of years ago you might have killed the man but instead you raise a fist but do not strike. Instead the fist becomes an open hand and you help the man to his feet. He was wobbly, and a few other scouts soon come forward to take bring him somewhere he could sit. You turned and grinned at Sandor and the two of you clap each other on the back as the crowd continues to cheer.

---

“We’re marching off tomorrow Sandor.”

“Well it’s about damn well time Ser. The lads and I been getting cabin fever stuck in ‘ere.”

“Some forty thousand men are marching up the Kings Road. That’s a hell of a lot of men.”

“Seven be damned Ser. I can’t even count to forty, let alone that many thousand.”

“You’ll be serving under some knight or lord I imagine, but if this whole thing goes tits up…we need a place to rendezvous so we can head back west together.”

“You almost sound like a scout Merv.” Sandor says with a chuckle. “You got any ideas for this rendezvous?”

--- Where to set the Rendezvous? ---

>Steadhold
>King’s Landing
>Somewhere else (Specify)

>>4377148
>Steadhold

>>4377148
>>Steadhold
Steadhold holds the key to the west. Makes the most sense since we'll be heading home after the assured loyalist victory at the Trident.

>>4377148
>Steadhold

>>4377148
>Somewhere else (Specify)
I would suggest Harrenhal. I would stay off the main roads and let the scouts guide us West undercover.

>>4377197
I thought Harrenhal at first too but the Wiki or my googlefu doesn't tell me which side the Whents fought on. There are arguments for both sides. Rhaegar involved the Whents in his plan for a council at Harrenhal so they may have been Loyalists, but loyalist houses in the Riverlands had their lands taken away, but the Whents didn't, so they may have been rebels. In any case Harrenhal is too close to the location of the Battle of the Trident and the first castle the rebels will hit if they win (that's even if they're not fighting for the rebels in the first place)

>>4377197
If support that...

If things go balls up, we want to be headed Westward, not towards the rebels obvious target - KL.

>>4377148
>Steadhold

>>4377148
>>Steadhold
King's landing is gonna catch some heat.

>>4377148
>Steadhold

>>4377278
>he doesn't know

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

Oooffff holy shit.. Right in the first thread, too.

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

>“Tell me Uncle, where were you.”

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

This one hit me, man. My sister is sitting right beside me...

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

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

>>4377364
>>4377373
>>4377374

House Malroy is a joy to read! Father is a great QM and his threads are always worth the wait in between. I definitely owe him a beer for his help in this cross over, and a massive shout out once this is all said and done. For any who don't know both House Malroy and House Grallner are his and I highly recommend checking both of them out.

Anyways, looks like Steadhold takes it. Writing!

>>4377592
When will Father return to us ?

“How about here? Can’t say I know the Crownlands well enough and Steadhold seems easy enough to find.”

“Aye, there’s some truth in that Merv. Easy to find, and the Gold Road will take us home. I’d prefer a more discrete meeting place but you couldn’t track a muddy dog through a castle so she’ll have to do.”

He grinned as the two of you huddled closer around the fire. This was almost like the old times when the two of you had been in the employ of House Lefford to hunt down bandits on the Silver Fang. The two of you swap stories and old memories.

“So how did you and that tavern girl ever get on? What was her name again…”

“Esme. Her name was Esme. Well her father nearly beat her to death after he learned that I’d been fuckin’ her. So fer that I slit his throat and threw his body off a cliff. It was all goin’ well but then her belly started growin’ and I left. Din’t think I was ready to be no father. That was near three years ago now”

That brought silence between the two of you, with only camp chatter and the crackle of flames filling the void. Sandor takes a pull from a wine skin and makes a sour face.

“You know Sandor…the girl and your child could come and live with you? I’m not saying they have to, but if you want them to…”

“What’s done is done Merv. If the babe survived it’ll be near two years old, and if she survived she won’t want to see my ugly mug.”

“You miss her?”

“Every day.”

“I miss Alyssa and Marqus the same. Do me a favor Sandor will you?” He nods his head to allow you to continue. “If I meet my end during all of this, you make sure to tell Alyssa I love her yeah? Make sure my boy knows his pa loved him too.”

“I can do that Merv. Are you…is…are you still going to be getting that tower?”

“I’d damn well hope so.”

“Well if I don’t make it…will you look into Esme and the kid? Maybe offer to have them live with you? But make sure my kid don’t grow up with no silver spoon in their mouth, only a wooden one on their ass.”

A smile cracked upon your face that soon turned into roaring laughter between the two of you as you swore to do as he asked.

“Seven bleedin’ hells Merv when did we turn into soft hearted girls?”

“I’ll be damned if I know.”

Sandor disappeared for a moment before returning with two horns and a fresh skin of wine. He sat down and poured the contents into the horns. “Down in one?” he asked.

“Down in one.”

--- 20/02/283 ---

You decided to ride out in your mail and gambeson. Not having a squire made dressing in your full plate difficult and you would be damned if you would be the last one ready of your men on account of such a trivial thing. You had found your way back to the Redward Manor House with little trouble and made passing introduction to Ser Vance upon leaving the estate but you’d had little time.

Steadhold had been busy before, but upon waiting for forty thousand men the entirety of the castle was frantic. It gave you a sense of pride to see the Loyal Reins gathered before you in disciplined ranks. The Eagle Eyes were less disciplined but your scouts still had their own sense of cohesiveness about them.

The Malroy military was prepared and laid out in their own ranks across the field. Steadhold was a militant castle, with good straight roads that made moving large numbers of men within her walls easy enough. You could see three men riding about their number inspecting them. Lord Vamos, Ser Donold and a master at arms if you were to take a guess. It was then that you first heard the horns in the distance…

--- 22/02/283 ---

As far as you could see to both the south and north there were men and horses. A host that never seemed to end was marching up the Kings Road and you were part of it. You’d fought in war before but nothing like this. With a host this size it would be impossible to lose and the men seemed to know it too. The mood amidst the host was serious but excited, many were ready to gain glory for their part in putting down the rebels.

Your own men had largely kept to themselves after joining the host. Sandor had taken off immediately with Ser Boniface Byrch as Lord Vamos had predicted and the Loyal Reins had so far ignored the Dornishmen that they were riding with. Some of your men were from the Reach so it made sense there might be some hostility, and to the rest you imagined it was the sheer difference in their culture that alienated them. As for yourself…

--- Where would Mervyn go? ---

>To try and find Prince Lewyn Martell of the Kingsguard. In the chaos of departing Steadhold you had missed your opportunity to be introduced by Lord Vamos
>To try and mingle with the Lords of Dorne. Mixing with men above your station.
>To try and mingle with the Knights of Dorne. Mixing with men of your station.
>Nowhere, you would stick with your own men

>>4377741
>To try and mingle with the Knights of Dorne. Mixing with men of your station.

>>4377741
>To try and mingle with the Knights of Dorne. Mixing with men of your station.

>>4377741
>To try and mingle with the Lords of Dorne. Mixing with men above your station.

>>4377741
>To try and mingle with the Knights of Dorne. Mixing with men of your station.

>>4377741
>>To try and mingle with the Knights of Dorne. Mixing with men of your station.

>>4377741
Wherever we go can we bring Cardyn with us?
He's been out of sorts ever since we passed him over for promotion and I'd like to try rebuilding some bridges

Alright calling it for the Knights of Dorne. Houses like Calt, Santagar and Drinkwater spring to mind. Perhaps with some household knights sworn to higher houses.

>>4377988 bring up an interesting point and I'll have a vote on it.

--- What to do with Cardyn? ---

>Bring him with you to associate with the Dornish
>Visit him afterwards privately
>Nothing, leave him be

>>4377988
Also anon, have you any suggestions on how to rebuild said bridges? I'm open to suggestions

>>4378041
>Bring him with you to associate with the Dornish

Maybe even a Qorgyle ?

>>4378041
>>Visit him afterwards privately

>>4378041
>Visit him afterwards privately

>>4378041
>Visit him afterwards privately

>>4378041
>>Nothing, leave him be

>>4378041
>Visit him afterwards privately
Cardyn doesn't build bridges, he burns them.

>>4378041
>Bring him with you to associate with the Dornish

Alright we'll send word to him that we'd like a word. Maybe go for a ride or something.

Anyhow, onto meeting some dornishmen! Writing

Relations were important you knew, and it was important to know the men who you were fighting besides. In particular you found yourself drawn to the cavalry and you rode Pyrite alone to find where a large majority of the Dornish horses were in the column. It did not take you long to find the animals with each knights possessing at least two, some perhaps even three or four, horses each there was enough horses to make even the open air in the dead of winter smell like a stable.

Dornish heraldry was an absolute confusion to you. Alyssa may have been fascinated by it but during your lessons with her she had focused primarily on the heraldry of the Westerlands, Riverlands and Reach. The areas where you would most likely have to be distinguish between the houses but Dorne had come up rarely at best. You knew House Martell of course, as well as Dayne and Yronwood but asides from that they were largely a blank. Falcons, vultures, dragons, scorpions…there was an absolute myriad of sigils that were unfamiliar to you.

Instead of heraldry, you would have to rely on your ability to tell who was who by their walk, by their garb and most importantly by their horses. While it was true there were some landed knights who were richer and more powerful than the poorest of lords they were a rare thing. Most lords rode only the finest palfreys during times of piece and impressive destriers or coursers during times of war. Knights were more like to be riding plainer, although still impressive, horses such as yourself. Lords writ small you had heard them be described before and you thought the saying was a fitting one.

Two likely candidates struck out to you above the others as you rode up and down the column slowly. There was an older man, perhaps in his fourties, riding on a sand steed alone that was midnight black in both his coat and mane. He still looked to be in fighting shape however and his skin was the warm olive brown you would expect from Dorne. His doublet was purple, an indication of wealth, but it wasn’t the royal purple a lord might wear. Instead it was closer to a burgundy but the yellow balls were bright against the colour, enough to signify that he was at least moderately wealthy.

The other man was more of a man of your own age. He wore blue and white livery with a leopard pinned on his chest. His skin was pink as if it had been permanently burned from the sun and his hair was beginning to recede sharply. The hair on top of his head was thin but elsewise he appeared to be in the prime of life. He was chatting with a few men who looked to be his companions of various means but he was the wealthiest by half. His horse was a deep chestnut with a light golden mane and tale and his tack was fine leather fitted with silver fastenings.

--- Who to speak with? ---

>The older man, clad in purple with yellow balls for his sigil
>The younger man, clad in blue and white with a leopard for his sigil

>>4378185
>The younger man, clad in blue and white with a leopard for his sigil

>>4378185
>The younger man, clad in blue and white with a leopard for his sigil

>>4378185
>The younger man, clad in blue and white with a leopard for his sigil

Alright in the interest of moving this alone I'll call it here. Can I get 2d6 for knowledge to see if Mervyn knows who we're dealing with here.

DC: 12

Rolled 6, 2 = 8 (2d6)

>>4378259
>DC 12
Why even bother..

Rolled 1, 4 = 5 (2d6)

>>4378259

Rolled 3, 4 = 7 (2d6)

>>4378259

No dice. Too bad, that would have given you the amiable initial disposition and made getting along with him a bit easier.

Alright well I'll still take 3d6 for charm please

>>4378263
I think it's worth highlighting the characters weakness as well as their strengths. Tests like this just serve to remind us all that Mervyn isn't very good at being a nobleman yet

Rolled 5, 3, 2 = 10 (3d6)

>>4378267

Rolled 6, 4, 3 = 13 (3d6)

>>4378267

Rolled 5, 3, 1 = 9 (3d6)

>>4378267

Rolled 5 (1d6)

>>4378273
Rerolling for attractive

>>4378271
10

>>4378272
13

>>4378273
13

Pretty good but is that enough? Writing

The younger man would be easier to speak to you decided. Your luck with men of an older bearing had been rather poor as of late and you saw no need to continue such a streak. You circled back around and approached the younger knight in his blue and white gambeson slowly, inching closer so as not to appear like you were charging the man. As you got closer, the badge on his chest became more clear and you saw that it was a leopard, yellow with black spots, rearing up and in it’s front two paws it held a polearm or a halberd.

--- Ser Meryn’s Knowledge (Heraldry) Test ---
Rolled 10 vs DC: 12
Result: Test Failed

A leopard. Your thoughts race back to a particular lesson when Alyssa had begun to teach you about the histories of House Lefford. You had hid your smile from her and when she’d asked what their arms were you had known.

“A yellow mountain on blue, with a sun in the corner.” You had blurted out the words with such confidence that she had covered her mouth in shock and laughed.

“Correct husband…almost. The proper terms for their arms are a golden inverted pile on a sky-blue field, a yellow sun in the first.”

“But it is a gold mountain with a sun on blue right?”

The look she’d given you was one of exhasperation and love. “Yes Mervyn, it is a gold mountain with a sun on blue.”

You remembered then asking how a house that named themselves Lefford couldn’t take a leopard as their sigil. Alyssa had explained that their heraldry represented the Golden Tooth and went on to list some houses that did contain leopards in their heraldry.

“Sandbar? No. Santagor? No. Sandy…Seven fucking hells.” You whispered under your breath to try and hear the names out loud but nothing came of it. You settle instead for a less formal approach.

--- Ser Mervyn’s Persuasion (Charm) Test ---
Rolled 13 vs DC: 12
Results: One Degree of Success

“Hoy there!” It was half a shout to get the mans attention away from his flunkies but he noticed you. When he turned you could see that his pink and sunburnt face was also marred by a flurry of freckles and pock scars.

“Good day Ser.”

“Good day. That’s a fine looking horse you have there. It’s a sand steed correct?”

He gives you a puzzled look but answered politely all the same, although there was a slightly incredulous tone in his voice. “You’d be correct in that Ser, among the finest that dragons can buy. Your own steed seems to be a fine beast as well, that golden colouring is striking.”

“Aye he serves well enough. A product of House Malroy’s breeding, perhaps you’ve heard of them?”

“I cannot say that I have, and I must say that introductions are past due as I don’t believe I know who you are.” He shooed his retainers away to allow for him to ride closer to you and extend his hand. “Ser Symond Santagar, Knight of Spottswood, bannerman to Lord Doran Martell, at your service Ser. And you are?”

--- How to introduce yourself? ---
>Ser Mervyn Reynold, Knight of the Pyre, Bannerman to House Reynold of Ember Peak (Deception)
>Ser Mervyn Reynold, Master at arms of Ember Peak (Charm)
>Ser Mervyn Reynold of Ember Peak, Captain of the Loyal Reins (Charm)

>>4378302
>Ser Mervyn Reynold, Master at arms of Ember Peak (Charm)

>>4378302
>>Ser Mervyn Reynold, Master at arms of Ember Peak (Charm)

>>4378302
>>Ser Mervyn Reynold of Ember Peak, Captain of the Loyal Reins (Charm)

>>4378302
>>Ser Mervyn Reynold, Master at arms of Ember Peak (Charm)

>>4378302

>Ser Mervyn Reynold, Master at arms of Ember Peak (Charm)

>Ser Mervyn Reynold of Ember Peak, Captain of the Loyal Reins (Charm)

Is there a reason it doesn't make sense to include both? If so, then just

>Ser Mervyn Reynold, Master at arms of Ember Peak (Charm)

>>4378302
>>Ser Mervyn Reynold of Ember Peak, Captain of the Loyal Reins (Charm)

>>4378449
Sorry, that was a typo. The master at arms option was meant to include Captain as well. The vote was meant to be a prestige type of thing.

I'll be a bit so voting is still open but expect a post in roughly 3 hours from now. I appreciate your patience, thanks guys.

“Ser Mervyn Reynold. Master of Arms at Ember Peak and Captain of the Loyal Reins, at yours and you family’s Ser.”

“A pleasure. I haven’t heard of House Reynold before…do you hail from the Crownlands?”

“No Ser. Ember Peak sits in the Westerlands along the Gold Road. I can’t say I’m familiar with Dorne myself Ser. Where is Spottswood?”

“House Santagar hails from the east of Dorne. Our andal ancestors landed and laid claim to the temperate coast line less than two days ride from Sunspear. It’s a beautiful place Ser Mervyn. The crashing of waves can be heard from Spottswood if you listen close enough, and there is fresh fruit enough that even the smallfolk have their fill.”

“It sounds like a paradise.”

“It truly is Ser. Not to mention it has none of this blasted cold. Seven above I don’t know how you northerners do it.”

Now that he mentioned it you noticed that most of the Dornishmen were clad in excessive layers of clothing. While you were wearing a warm gambeson and britches with your wolf skin cloak about your shoulders Ser Symond and his men seemed to be dressed in ever piece of clothing they owned. Gloves, scarves, cloaks and caps. You struggled to contain a laugh while Ser Symond Santagar looked at you bewildered.

“What in the Seven Hells is so funny?”

“Nothing at all Ser, only that you think this is cold. I’d suggest staying well clear of the western mountains, and pray to the gods that these rebels don’t flee into the Vale once we’ve crushed them. The mountains are where the real cold is.” Ser Symond cursed at that.

“And here I thought the Red Mountains were bad enough. I can’t see how you live in such a frozen wasteland.”

“I thought Dorne was the wasteland?”

“Bah. Nothing but stories told by Reachmen and Marcher lords. Yes a large part of Dorne is a desert but few houses call the dunes home. The Qorgyles yes, and the Ullers of Hellholt but they are half mad to begin with. And the houses that call the Red Mountains home have a similar disposition as the rest of you northerners but for the rest of us near the coast? Dorne is a paradise.”

--- Any topics of conversation for Ser Symond Santagar? ---

I lied about the three hours. My bad

>>4378675
´war, horses, donre in general

>>4378675
Probably some general questions of the host. Are there factions at play? His take on this fight or the war in general. Ah, and if he has a fallback in mind as well.

>>4378675
these
>>4378681
>>4378685
How many Dornishmen does it take to shoe a horse?

>>4378675
Bond over mutual pride in our horses then segue into his take on the coming battle, the war in general and Prince Llewyn

>>4378675
Ask about Prince Lewyn. Give him our thoughts of the Reachmen/Tarly and want to know about the man leading us now.

I can work with this. Asking about politics within the host, what he makes of Prince Lewyn and what not.

Alright can I get 3d6 for Persuasion (Charm) please

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

>>4378714

Rolled 3, 4, 6 = 13 (3d6)

>>4378714

>>4378720
wew

Rolled 6, 4, 5 = 15 (3d6)

>>4378714

>>4378739
Good roll! Writing

Managed to catch up, a pity that we couldn't regroup at KL or harrenhall but then again that's if shit goes very bad

>>4378878
>tfw we get captured by lord wensington
ultimate irony

--- Ser Mervyn Reynold’s Persuasion (Charm) Test ---
Rolled 15 vs DC: 9
Results: Two Degrees of Success

“You need not tell me about Marcher Lords Ser. I’ve had my own experience with them and found myself…scarred…by it.”

“Oh? Which of the bastards did you have the unfortunate luck to meet?”

“Lord Randyll Tarly.”

A few men that rose near enough to eavesdrop on you hissed at the mention of the name and Ser Symond scowls as he straightens in his saddle. “I’ve heard all manner of rumors about that one. He’s supposed to be some great general but I’ve heard that even at his age he’s never even used his cock. Imagine it. A man who’s still a maid.”

Sniggers followed that comment and you felt yourself joining alongside them. “Might well be true. His grip on a scourge is tight enough that I’d believe it.”

“And how would you know of such a thing?”

“I was on the receiving end of twenty of his lashes. Got the scars to prove it too.”

“You’ll have to show them to us once we break camp Ser. What did you do to earn these twenty lashes?”

“Well, I may have joined Lord Tarly’s parley…uninvited.”

That brought howls of laughter from both Ser Symond and his men. Ser Symond began to laugh so hard that he was slapping his thigh and bent over at the waist. He came back up again reeling for air. “You joined…Lord Randyll Tarly’s parley…uninvited?” The man was red in the face before but he had gone so red from laughter that his freckles were no longer visible.

“Seven be good. You showed up to a parley whilst serving under the man with the biggest stick up his arse since Baelor the bloody blessed? Are you sure you aren’t Dornish Ser?”

“And it only cost me my pale hide. I reckon that proves I’m not Dornish. I take it that this Prince Lewyn isn’t quite as strict a commander as Lord Tarly? ” You said the first bit with a laugh but you grew more serious when inquiring about the leader of the Dornish contingent.

“Oh Prince Lewyn is a true knight but he’s Dornish to his core. Before he joined the Kings Guard he was known to keep a paramour and I can’t imagine such a habits changed, although don’t go mentioning that in his presence. Why a man can’t love a woman and protect a king I’ll never know but it’s in the vows.

The two of you then discuss the merits of horseflesh for a time and come to an agreement on your mutual preference for coursers and sand steeds over destriers. Your own reasons are largely made up of having never ridden such an animal while Ser Symond was rather insistent that such horses did not fare well in Dorne.

“I reckon most things don’t do well in Dorne that aren’t Dornish?”

“I would tend to agree Ser Mervyn.”

“And I find myself surrounded by Dornishmen. Tell me, are there any traps I might avoid?”

Ser Symond smiles at you slyly. “I take it back Ser Mervyn, you are most certainly not from Dorne. Politics are rife within this host. There are adders, scorpions and vultures all willing to prey on the weak and weary to increase their own prestige. I would suggest avoiding Dornish politics as I do Ser. I’ve a young daughter I intend to see again. I’m loyal to Lord Martell and I leave it at that. The fortunes of my house rise and fall with his will.”

“I’ve children of my own. A son named Marqus, and twins that I’ve never met.”

“My daughters name is Sylva. If I may be blunt Ser, you don’t strike me as a man of intrigue. Why the interest?”

“I’ve already had my back flayed open once, I just want to make sure I know who not to anger within this host so it doesn’t happen again. Dealing with lords seems to be more trouble than it’s worth.”

“I’ll drink to that Ser Mervyn. You’ll have to join me around a fire in the coming nights.”

"I'd be glad to, so long as your food isn't as hot as the reachmen say it is."

"Now that is something I cannot promise Ser."

--- Break ---

Nice. Working towards the big battle here and I’m on pace for where I’d like to be. I don’t think I’ll be able run tomorrow but I’ll present you all with a different sort of prompt. We’re getting closer and closer to Mervyn actually getting landed and so he is going to need a name for his tower/hall, as well as some house words. I was very solidly in the “Alyssa’s Rest” camp before but now that she’s survived I’ve grown quite partial to House Reynold of the Pyre. I’d like to hear what you guys have to think though.

As for house words I’ve very little inspiration so far except for stuff like “Risen from the Ashes”. So if any of you have any ideas please feel free to shout them out! I’ll be looking to continue the run on Wednesday starting with us meeting with Cardyn. Thanks for playing guys

>>4378915
thanks joe
>twice as bright
>before the dawn
>from ashes, rebirth
or we could get some inspiration from the reynes
>who are you
>long and sharp
just spitballing

>>4378915
A solid black keep named the Pyre is pretty radical. That's some legendary family naming schemes shit

>>4378915
Now that was an amazing update, thanks Joe!

>>4378992
Agreed with this anon. House Reynold of the Pyre, inhabiting a black castle called the Pyre, would be thematic af.

>>4378934
This anon has great ideas on house words

I propose the house words - "At least the heir is alright" or "Literally cannot be cucked unless you want to be accused of murder"

>>4378934
>>4378934
Those are some good house words.
I think "long and sharp" is probably my favourite.

>>4378915
The Reynolds of The Pyre does have a nice ring to it but Alyssa's Rest is nice too.
If we do end up calling it The Pyre then I vote we also go out of our way to build a bigass garden/solar at the top of the tower and call that Alyssa's Rest.

>>4379187
But Alyssa is still alive anon. Naming anything Alyssa's Rest would mean she's dead.

>>4378915
>Against the Odds

>>4378915
>House Reynold of the Pyre
Love this

As far as house words
>Tempered in Fire
>Resilience in the Fire
>From the Fire, Awoken
or if you want a ash reference
>From the Ash, Awoken

>>4379088
Crippled by Coomers

>>4379254
We should had forced her to taske moontea. But she would probably have hated us for quite a while and would never truly forgive us for it.

File: The_Pyre_Inspo 1.0.png (1.06 MB, 1300x500)

1.06 MB PNG

>>4378992
>>4379083
I imagine the stone will be a dark grey colour and likely painted black in a similar but opposite manner of white washing? Also, here is a photo I really like for Mervyn's tower/hall. I've fluffed out the lands that he is going to be given should he make it through all of this, but what sort of holdings will all be up to you guys.

I can't see defense going much over twenty but you currently have 6 glory, as well as 7 Wealth in coin, loot and owed ransoms and the rebellion is far from over. So who knows, maybe a small castle is on the table.

I actually really like "Before the Dawn". From ashes, Rebirth is good too but it's very similar to House Reynold of Ember Peaks "From Ruin, Rebirth". But maybe thats a good thing?

>>4379187
I think part of whatever Mervyn builds will have part of it named after Alyssa. Either the garden or a library if he chooses to build one.

>>4379248
These are some good ones as well. Tempered in Fire (Flames) is probably my favorite of them.

>>4379256
You're spot on there. I think Moon Tea is greatly over played in a setting that is meant to mimic the middle ages. Hell most heavily religious countries frown upon abortion even with our modern outlooks on life. I imagine that for most people in the setting the thought of killing an unborn child would be abhorrent. Would it still happen? Absolutely. Could Mervyn have convinced Alyssa to do it? It's possible. Would there be an entirely different series of issues to be dealt with? You bet.

I also came up with another one even if it is a meme.

"Through the Fire and Flames"

Anyways, I don't have much time here so I'll leave you guys with that. Any further opinions and what not are greatly appreciated and I think when I'm free tonight I'll call a vote for House Words and what not, if only so I can start getting a document together for the second arc of this quest which is looming ominously in the background. See you all tonight!

>>4379340
Wifey is gonna get a garden. We should be able to afford one when we sack Kings Landing for all that sweet extra cash

>>4379340
At least Merv would have a theme song
https://youtu.be/0jgrCKhxE1s

>>4379355
Library might be better. We got some books to put in it already

>>4379364
both is good

>>4379340
I like the Pyre.
Alternatively, we can just shove a word before "Eyrie", which is an eagle's nest. "Eagle's Eyrie" would have that sweet alliteration.

I think the best words so far are Long and Sharp, referring to our talons or our memory or our price. Paying the long price is an old way of saying having revenge done upon you.

I think a shortening of the words that have to deal with ashes and fire is a good idea.

From the Ashes, Risen from Ash, Risen from Fire, Born of Fire etc etc etc

Well I think I'll throw this to a vote.

--- House Words for Mervyn's Cadet Branch ---

>Before the Dawn
>Long and Sharp
>Through the Fire and Flames
>Risen from the Ashes
>Born in Fire
>From the flames, Awoken

>>4380090
>Before the Dawn

>>4380090
>>Born in Fire

>>4380090
>>Long and Sharp
I like it.

>>4380090
>>Long and Sharp

>>4380090
>Long and Sharp

>>4380090
>Long and Sharp

>>4380090
>>Before the Dawn

>>4380090
>Before the Dawn

>>4380090
>>Before the Dawn

>>4380090
>Long and Sharp

>>4380090
>>Long and Sharp

>>4380090

>Before the Dawn


Long and Sharp sounds both phallic and kinda childish to me idk.

Tight race between "Long and Sharp" and "Before the Dawn". I have to say I like both a lot.
Long and Sharp has alot of potential for witty banter with Alyssa. I can see her telling the kids that "Our memories are long, and our wits are sharp" where Mervyn will tell them that it's like an eagles talons and alot more literal.

Before the Dawn has an auspicious and almost prophetic ring to it that I also love.

Voting will be open until tonight when I can find time to actually get some writing done. As always I appreciate the patience guys. See you all tonight!

>>4380090
>Long and Sharp

>>4380634
Long and Sharp is gonna become a dick thing. I am certain of it

--- 23/02/283 ---

You’d not found Cardyn after you had went in search of making friends with Dornishmen, having lost a majority of your men amongst the mass of men, women, children, horses and other beasts of burden. It was said that only a mad man would go to war during winter and you could see why, especially with a host as large as the one you were riding with. The land was picked clean as far as you can see. Villages food reserves were being reacquired by the host and you’d seen villages wiped out in winter with larders that were far fuller than those the host had left behind.

You found Cardyn encamped with the rest of your rest of your men, breaking their fast on hard tack and salt beef. You stood across the small fire until he looked up to you with his hazel brown eyes. You gave him a nod and a flick of the head and he was soon making his way over to you. You eyed Ser Tristan the Dornishman who looked at you with his dark stare.

“Surprised to see you sitting with the lads Tristan, thought you’d be out with your countrymen?”

“Not with this damn leg Ser.” He slapped it only to hear a wooden thwack and he pulled up the cuff of his britches to reveal a sort of splint and brace.

“Can’t blame you for that.” You’d kept him in your company because the man could still ride, but not being able to walk properly was a curse for a fighting man. He was cripple now and he was a cruel man before his injury, there was no telling in what sort of things he’d be capable of now.

---

Cardyn rode ahead of you towards the trees that hemmed in the Kings Road. Footprints, both human and horse, trailed in and out of the woods. Snow was falling but inside the wood the trees kept it from reaching your shoulders. The cold matched the shoulder that Cardyn had been giving you since you’d passed him over for promotion.

“Are you wondering why I wanted to ride with you today?

“Can’t say I put much thought into it Ser. I don’t know whats been going on in your head as of late. Ever since your boy was born you’ve been different. You named Osgrey as your lieutenant, a man so chivalrous there might as well be songs written about him. It just ain’t like you Ser. You haven’t been the man I thought you were when you took me on in Lannisport…”

--- Response for Ser Cardyn ---
>You were still the same man you’d always been. His temperament was what had made you choose Ser Austin over himself
>You may have changed and did not like the darker aspect of war, but you would still do what was necessary
>You had changed. You had grown tired of being nothing but an attack dog. A trained hawk sent to kill something and return to it’s masters hand.

--- House Words ---

Looks like Long and Sharp takes it. The more I think about it the more I enjoy this. They're simple and blunt like Merv, but there can be alot more to them. Perhaps he heard the Rains of Castamere and thought they'd work? It'll get brought up eventually

>>4380961
>You had changed. You had grown tired of being nothing but an attack dog. A trained hawk sent to kill something and return to it’s masters hand.

We are going to be our own man. But fear not, those who follow will be rewarded when all is said and done

>>4380961
>You were still the same man you’d always been. His temperament was what had made you choose Ser Austin over himself

>>4380961
>You were still the same man you’d always been. His temperament was what had made you choose Ser Austin over himself
maybe character would be a better word

>>4380978 this
>>4380961

>>4380961
>You had changed. You had grown tired of being nothing but an attack dog. A trained hawk sent to kill something and return to it’s masters hand.

What is the goal of this conversation? Are we just trying to get him to be buddy buddy with us again? Do we want to make promises about the future if he sticks with us? I don’t know how to vote because I don’t know what the point is

> You haven’t been the man I thought you were when you took me on in Lannisport

Write in: “Who did you think I was?”
(Try to get more inside his head to see what he is thinking and ask him what it is that he wants, before we drop Merv truths on him)

>>4381399
Backing

>>4381103
>>4380961
>>4381399
Changing to
>Who did you think I was?”

>>4381399
good idea, anon
support

>>4381399
Supporting

Just reading the Malroy quest for the first time, and Cardin Lantell is the one who's working for Brynden Malroy's enemies and tried to murder his brother in law Quentyn Qorgoyle. I don't know how much this Cardin Lantell is based on that one, but I'm getting a feeling he'll leave us soon to move on to better things when he figures out we aren't the black hearted bastard he expected us to be.

>>4381442
>past bandit life
>butchering the serrett girl like a pig
>assassinating the farman heir
>killing his dad
I really like these darker side of gray characters
I don't want Mervyn to become a good boi.

>>4381399
Backing this

>>4381477
I'm with you anon. It's nice to see a somewhat evil character who isn't an edgelord for the hell of it.

>>4381477
>>4381493
For all our talk of gaining wealth from the sack of King's Landing, do you think the vote will allow Mervyn to do raping and pillaging in Steadhold and King's Landing? Or will he shy away and stay in the back and just watch it happen? Maybe even try to oppose it?

>>4381524
Steadhold no. Kings Landing yes,

>>4381524
>>4381525
Agreed. KL yes, Steadhold no. We can't do Pastorn dirty like that.
I'd also be voting against any raping ourselves. I've no problem with our men sating their appetites but we're still loyal above all else to a qt redheaded girl back home.

>>4381533
>Not impregnating Isis and every highborn girl we find
Never gonna make it

>>4381533
It's a sack. Merv is probably gonna be overtaken by a bloodlust a wake up a few days later with his armour caked in blood, his belt missing and in possession of two large chests filled with wealth

Expect an update at roughly the same time as yesterday. Some busy days ahead of me here.

>>4381399
Great write in, and it looks like it's the most popular option so I'll call that vote now. I think the purpose of this talk is to see what's going on with him as he's been distant since being passed over in favor of Ser Austin.

>>4381442
He is the one and the same. Ser Cardyn is a spark plug with very little in the way of conscience. The only person he really cares about is his sister. For instance, he sucker punched the heir to the Lannisters of Lannisport to try and impress Mervyn. In the years between now and Revenge and Gold, he is going to experience some shit that will turn him from impulsive and cunty to downright murderous.

>>4381477
I don't think it'll ever quite leave him. Especially if he is given power, I'm not sure he knows any other way to solve problems. Alyssa might help temper that, but I don't think Mervyn will ever be afraid to get his hands dirty. To what extent though, that remains to be seen

>>4381493
That might be the highlight of comments I've ever gotten. Mervyn not coming across as a total edgelord is extremely gratifying to hear.

>>4381524
That vote is either going to be contentious, or a complete wash out.

>>4381569
Speaking of that, I imagine a sack of Steadhold would take no more than a day, but a city like King's Landing? I can't imagine it taking less than a week to restore order once it's started, especially during the nights. I can see gangs of armed men prowling the city that eventually dissipate as Lord Stark starts sending out Northmen to quell the looting but such a thing can't be easy in a city plagued with loyalists, rebels and innocent by standers.

I can assure you that if we make it to King's Landing, there will be opportunities for Mervyn to slake his rage. Maybe it's on former loyalists to prove where his loalties lie, maybe its against rebel northmen and riverlanders, maybe its just against poor civilians who were in the wrong place at the wrong time. It's going to be dark, and by the seven is it going to be heavy.

>>4381619
Hey Joe, I asked this >>4378689 on the wrong thread, do you have anything in mind?

>>4381650
I try not to touch other QM's work unless I've got permission to do so. But I'd like to throw in a few easter eggs over the next little while. Ser Jonothor being slain by a common born man from the Stormlands, Mervyn hearing about a handsome knight from the Vale who slew seven knights in single combat etc.

If thats you Sandy, I will absolutely include a little something

>>4381678
Oh no, I'm not Sandy. If I could write well I would've ran an asoiaf quest of my own. I'm just a big fan of putting references from other asoiaf quests so we can all pretend that this takes place in the same 4chan westeros universe.

“And just who do you think I was Cardyn?”

“I thought you were a man like me.” The words are blurted out, sharp on his tongue like a knife but he grows quiet and the two of you ride in relative silence for a time.

“I thought you were a man like me. A man who didn’t give a fiddlers fuck about birth and nobility. I thought you were a man who respected strength and that I would do whatever needs to be done to win. Austin Osgrey would rather lose, hell even die, than give up his precious honour. And now you cling to that Malroy like he was your brother. I’ve talked to him and he’s no better than Austin. Nose up in the air, acting like he’s better than me because he comes from a noble house. House Lantell is descended from House fucking Lannister. We might only be knights, and my father might want us to be merchants, but we’ve the blood of Lann the Clever in our veins. The blood of heroes.”

You go to speak but Cardyn glares and continues his rant to the empty woods.

“I want to fight and I want to win Mervyn. I’m tired of being a laughing stock. My father looks down on me and he’s a coward whose skin is filled with suet and fear. My brother looks down on me because I refused to take interest in the family business. Every nobleman looks down on me because I came from a knightly house. Cerenna is the only one who looks at me like someone who matters, because she knows I can protect her. I didn’t have a master at arms to train me, to drill into me the teachings of honour, and to be honest I didn’t want one. I don’t care about it. That shite is how a man gets killed. I learned in the gutter from hedge knights and cut throats, fighters and survivors.”

“Do you think I learned any different Cardyn? I learned from my father who was a bastard and a hedge knight. He never even knew his father, and yet I am a better fighter than any man who calls Ember Peak home. I know how to fight dirty, I’ve killed to stay alive, I’ve killed men over a loaf of mouldy fucking bread.”

“But you don’t act like it anymore.” His eyes drifted off ahead and you followed them. A small crofters hut was visible between the trees and the sound of a squealing pig that carried on the wind. Cardyn Lantell gave you a dead stare. “You say you’re one thing but you act like another. Prove it. We’ll take that pork from this crofter and if he resists we’ll kill him. It’s all for the King Army isn’t it? Are you in Ser? Or are you to honourable for such a thing?”

--- Rob (And potentially kill) the crofter with Cardyn Lantell ---
>Yay
>Nay

---
Work got shut down early so here we are!!

>>4381754
>Yay
Fuck it. We'll get some lashing over this probably.

>>4381754
>Yay
Getting Cardyn’s loyalty back Is more important, sorry rando

With our high intimidate it shouldn’t come to blows though

>>4381754
>Yay

>>4381754
>Yay

>>4381754
>Yay

>>4381754
>Yay
Hope he has a daughter...

>>4381754
>Yay

Alright looks like a resounding Yay.

How do you guys want to play this?

>Convince
>Intimidate

>>4381966
>Intimidate

>>4381966
>Intimidate

>>4381966
>Intimidate

>>4381966
>Intimidate

>>4381966
>Seduce

Hehe, no
>Intimidate

I'll take 4d6 for Intimidate please. Then i'll get writing!

Rolled 5, 2, 3, 5 = 15 (4d6)

>>4381978

Rolled 4, 5, 1, 6 = 16 (4d6)

>>4381978

Rolled 2, 1, 6, 1 = 10 (4d6)

>>4381978

Rolled 1, 1 = 2 (2d6)

>>4381980
>>4381986
Re rolling for attractive.

>>4381988
lol

>>4381979
13

>>4381980
15

>>4381986
10

Well even with my abysmal reroll that still a damn scary Mervyn.

>>4381988
Only Joe, man...

>>4381988
thanks, joe

For all the intimidating we do, our skill is pretty average. Maybe something to invest in the future?

A discontented sigh left your lips before you began to slowly walk your horse towards the crofters hut.

“Damn tired of fucking salt beef Ser. I reckon a bit of fresh pork will give the lads some pep in their step.”

You looked around the small hut and you reckoned that said pig was likely the last of their animals. There was not a horse tied up to a hitching post, a cow or goat for milking, not even a dog to bark at your arrival and forewarn the crofters. You call out “Good day” to get his attention and you see a middle aged man look up from his work and make his way over to his rickety fence to greet you.

“Seven blessings Sers.”

“We’re King’s men, marching with the King’s army to keep his loyal subjects safe. I imagine you’d be a man under his protection?”

“Oh aye Ser. Me’n’mine are all loyal dragon men. My father even fought in that War ‘o’ Ninepenny Kings ‘e did. That’s his grave out back there.” He gestured to a small wooden marker that was kept free of snow. “Perhaps I can invite you both inside Sers? Wife has a fire on, and our soup might be thin but for men fighting for King Aerys we can spare a bowl or two.”

The smile he wore on his face disappeared when Cardyn came down off of his horse to speak to him. He marched directly up to the man and leaned in so close for a moment you thought he was about to kiss him.

“Wheres the pig old man? We know you’ve got one running about here, we heard it.”

“I…I…yes we have a pig but…but he’s the last of our animals. We’ll struggle to make it through the winter with that meat, let alone without it. I’ve a family Sers…”

As if on cue a woman opened the front door of the hut. She was a pretty thing in a common sort of way and from out behind her came three small children. You noticed a fourth swaddled in her arms as she walked over to you, smiling in her ignorance of the situation. Cardyn rounded on her and snarled.

“Get back inside you fucking slut! Men are talking!”

She stopped suddenly and tried to cover her children as she quickly returned inside with their brood. You took the opportunity to speak to the man and try to end this bloodlessly if possible.

--- Ser Mervyn Reynold’s Persuasion (Intimidate) Test ---
Rolled 15 vs DC: 9, 15
Results: Two Degrees of Success, One Degree of Success

“If you give up that pig, it’s true your family might not survive the winter. But if you don’t give it up then that man is going to ensure that they don’t survive the night.”

“And he ain’t fucking lying.” Cardyn had returned to the conversation with a vengeance. Hate and anger were writ all over his face. “We’ll rape that pretty wife of yours and smash your little bastards heads in. Then we’ll slit your throat and leave you for the wolves. Ain’t that right Ser?”

He looked at you expectedly and you nodded towards the crofter. Fear and panic was written on his face clear as day and cold beads of sweat were forming on his brow. He gestured behind the hut and Cardyn disappeared out of sight as he sought to find the animal.

“P-please Ser. I can see in your heart that you’re a good man. I’ll gladly slaughter that pig for you, and we can share it. Half for you and your man and half for my family. I could – AAAAAHHH!”

A scream of pain shot through the man and you looked down to see the hilt of a longsword sticking out of his chest. Blood wept from the wound and he fell to his knees as he died.

“FOR FUCKS SAKE CARDYN!”

“He was pullin’ a knife on you Ser. Look...”

He rummaged through the dead mans clothes to produce a flash of silver that turned out to be a lonely single silver stag. “Ah, well, my bad. But he could have been pulling a knife on you. Besides Ser, winter will kill this lot. Let’s just lead this pig back to camp.” He slipped the stag inside a pocket and grinned at you

The crofters wife screamed loudly as she ran to her husband. She threw herself onto his body and nearly knocked Cardyn over as she screamed and wept uncontrollably. A small tinge of guilt rose up inside your guts that you sharply tried to quell by getting her out of your sight.

“GET BACK INSIDE BEFORE I DO THE SAME TO YOU!” You roared the words at her, but it took a second time for her to hear them and flee inside once more, although this time she fell twice as if she had been struck down by a slap.

“Get that fucking pig Cardyn. We’re leaving.”

“Actually Ser…do you mind if I…?”

His eyes lingered on the hut where a newly made widow was weeping with her four children…

--- How to respond to Cardyn Lantell? ---

>As you will (Indifferent)
>Do what you want Cardyn (Unimpressed)
>Grab. The. Fucking. Pig. (No)

>>4382114
>Grab. The. Fucking. Pig. (No)

You fucking moron. All we had to do was grab the fucking pig and be off.

Give the braindead moron a slap

Well, it's not like anons didn't know exactly where this was leading to when they voted to encourage him.
Leaving the woman alive may have consequences for us, bad ones. She saw our colors, right? Doubt she'll forget that when she goes complaining to whoever the lord is.

>>4382114
>As you will (Indifferent)

>>4382114
>>As you will (Indifferent)
Join in

>>4382114
>>4382138
>Join in and kill her afterwards