TheFordee20
One Thousand Club
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CURRENT DATE :
Spring, 246 AC
The Vale
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CURRENT DATE :
Spring, 246 AC
TheFordee20
One Thousand Club
In The Vale,
Triston Sunderland rules from his seat Sisterton.
He is trying to gain favour with several houses in The Vale who still secretly call House Arryn their “rightful rulers”.
House Arryn are trying to keep favour with these said houses. Lady Cassana is only a girl, but she plans to do her family proud and become a Lord Paramount once more.
Unknown to everyone, a group of ‘foreigners’ have arrived and are heading for The Bloody Gate. This group consists of Ser Alester Arryn, who has been gone for around forty nine years. And with Ser Alester is… him. The last Targaryen.
Ghost Toast
Member
Meanwhile, in Sisterton
Triston began to walk the harbors of Sisterton. Triston was a tall man and built, his beard never able to fully grow completely out but still gave off a look of dominance. He wore a leather jerkin, something uncommon for lords to wear in the open, and had his teacher in the art of the sword, Illio's, old sword on his hips. He wouldn't bring Valyerian Steel in the open like this, no, that would be foolish, it would be too easy to steel. He smiled as he heard the birds chriping in the morning as he walked past the ships. They were being loaded by men from across the Vale: Royce, Grafton, Hunter, Arryn, and Sunderland plus countless other houses. They were assembled to do one thing: Take back the North. It put a smile on his face when he thought of that, knowing the attack plan. The goal was to burn White Harbor to the ground and sail up the White Knife and burn Winterfell. He didn't care much for Winterfell, just for White Harbor. The Manderlies had been a pain in the Sunderland's side for years now, being in a constant trade war with them. This would finally end the conflict for good
As Triston continued to walk through the town, he entered the marketplace. He loved to do this, to talk to the people, make sure they were doing alright. He always made sure Lincoln had his supply of food stuffs coming in from the mainland and made sure Edric's fishery was being successful as ever. Triston actually bought most of his fish from there, seeing as Edric somehow always got the best fish from the Bite and beyond. He could hear Isabella and Jaque playing in the streets, the son and daughter of one of the guards at his castle. They were balls of energy those two, always getting into trouble. Triston cared for these people and they cared for him back. He wasn't afraid to be harsh and was known for his punishments to theivery and muder, but he tried to be as just as possible. In all honesty, besides the fact of finally getting the Manderlies for good, Triston was taking down the North to prevent another Rape of the Three Sisters. To see all of these people, innocent people, just trying to live there lives to be raped and mudered by the Manderlies would be horrible. He knew many innocents in the North would die as well, but he knew that was the way of this cruel world but at the very least, he could keep these people safe
He soon stopped by a small flower shop on the street corner, run by a woman named Oliva. She always asked how Triston was doing as well as his wife, seeing as he came in to buy his wife flowers and chocolates. He would tell her, buy some chocolates and flowers, and leave the store, wishing her a goodday. He began to think of Bethany, his Lady of the sea, as he walked off. She was beautiful, and he never expected to meet the woman of his dreams from some marriage alliance between House Bracken and Sunderland. She was sweet, charming, a bit stubborn, but she would always melt for Triston. He walked down the streets to return back to the palace. Triston hated leaving her here, but someone had to be regent while he and Alyn, his ward, were off at war. Besides, it would look bad if he brought his wife to a war zone
As Triston walked back into the palace, the gates opened for him. He saw men streaming out, knights and footsoilders alike as they prepared to set sail. It would be still some time before they sat sail, but he would enjoy every second he had left with his wife. He hoped she was still asleep as he walked to the bedroom, with the gifts, and a little something in his pocket. It was a brilliant diamond necklace he had bought a day earlier while he was walking around the city from a nearby jewelry shop. He soon laid the gifts on his and his wife's chamber door step, leaving a note saying "Thought you might like this. I have to get down to inspect the men, meet me down there if you wish
With love,
Triston"
Triston soon left the palace for the port. He soon went to the galleon, Leviticus, and went to it's war room. He, once he arrived, told a nearby guard and said "Assemble all the commanders, including Aegon, and tell them to meet me here,". He then went inside the war room, ready to begin the plans
ailurophile
Whisker
Vaeus
@ Anyone who is a commander of the invasion
[B]
[/B]
Triston began to walk the harbors of Sisterton. Triston was a tall man and built, his beard never able to fully grow completely out but still gave off a look of dominance. He wore a leather jerkin, something uncommon for lords to wear in the open, and had his teacher in the art of the sword, Illio's, old sword on his hips. He wouldn't bring Valyerian Steel in the open like this, no, that would be foolish, it would be too easy to steel. He smiled as he heard the birds chriping in the morning as he walked past the ships. They were being loaded by men from across the Vale: Royce, Grafton, Hunter, Arryn, and Sunderland plus countless other houses. They were assembled to do one thing: Take back the North. It put a smile on his face when he thought of that, knowing the attack plan. The goal was to burn White Harbor to the ground and sail up the White Knife and burn Winterfell. He didn't care much for Winterfell, just for White Harbor. The Manderlies had been a pain in the Sunderland's side for years now, being in a constant trade war with them. This would finally end the conflict for good
As Triston continued to walk through the town, he entered the marketplace. He loved to do this, to talk to the people, make sure they were doing alright. He always made sure Lincoln had his supply of food stuffs coming in from the mainland and made sure Edric's fishery was being successful as ever. Triston actually bought most of his fish from there, seeing as Edric somehow always got the best fish from the Bite and beyond. He could hear Isabella and Jaque playing in the streets, the son and daughter of one of the guards at his castle. They were balls of energy those two, always getting into trouble. Triston cared for these people and they cared for him back. He wasn't afraid to be harsh and was known for his punishments to theivery and muder, but he tried to be as just as possible. In all honesty, besides the fact of finally getting the Manderlies for good, Triston was taking down the North to prevent another Rape of the Three Sisters. To see all of these people, innocent people, just trying to live there lives to be raped and mudered by the Manderlies would be horrible. He knew many innocents in the North would die as well, but he knew that was the way of this cruel world but at the very least, he could keep these people safe
He soon stopped by a small flower shop on the street corner, run by a woman named Oliva. She always asked how Triston was doing as well as his wife, seeing as he came in to buy his wife flowers and chocolates. He would tell her, buy some chocolates and flowers, and leave the store, wishing her a goodday. He began to think of Bethany, his Lady of the sea, as he walked off. She was beautiful, and he never expected to meet the woman of his dreams from some marriage alliance between House Bracken and Sunderland. She was sweet, charming, a bit stubborn, but she would always melt for Triston. He walked down the streets to return back to the palace. Triston hated leaving her here, but someone had to be regent while he and Alyn, his ward, were off at war. Besides, it would look bad if he brought his wife to a war zone
As Triston walked back into the palace, the gates opened for him. He saw men streaming out, knights and footsoilders alike as they prepared to set sail. It would be still some time before they sat sail, but he would enjoy every second he had left with his wife. He hoped she was still asleep as he walked to the bedroom, with the gifts, and a little something in his pocket. It was a brilliant diamond necklace he had bought a day earlier while he was walking around the city from a nearby jewelry shop. He soon laid the gifts on his and his wife's chamber door step, leaving a note saying "Thought you might like this. I have to get down to inspect the men, meet me down there if you wish
With love,
Triston"
Triston soon left the palace for the port. He soon went to the galleon, Leviticus, and went to it's war room. He, once he arrived, told a nearby guard and said "Assemble all the commanders, including Aegon, and tell them to meet me here,". He then went inside the war room, ready to begin the plans
ailurophile
Whisker
Vaeus
@ Anyone who is a commander of the invasion
[B]
[/B]
Last edited:
Math
Ancient Chinese Warlord Batman
Aerion II
Aerion glanced at the last rays of the setting sun, and the heavy rain. The moon on the other side of Westeros was still rising, only half of it could be seen. Maekar's nameday was approaching, he was named after Aerion's late grandfather, who died on the Battle of Redgrass Field.
Aerion had plans to visit Brightkeep for Maekar's nameday, he'd already prepared several gifts of sufficient quality, a fine ornate silver sword, polished to match that of castle forged steel.
In addition to the sword, Aerion had also prepared a fine palfrey, looted from a battle with Robber Knights. It was no match compared to Aerion's warhorse, but the palfrey was enough to provide a nice showing to Maekar. Aerion's daughter Visenla, Maekar's sister-wife, was pregnant, so the palfrey would be a nice gift and would undoubtedly survive to be the child's first mount.
On top of the palfrey and the sword, Aerion had also payed for a host of sellswords to escort building equipment to Brightkeep, meant to be used to expand the small fort farther into the forests around Summerhall, and conceal it further from the current overlords of the Reach, House Peake.
The morning dew of yesterdays rain was already starting to disappear, many small creatures scuttled around the training grounds of Hearts Home. Aerion's job as Master-at-arms meant training all the new raised levies from the surrounding town, he was also tasked with leading troops in the scenario of internal war in the vale, it wasn't the highest position of command, but it was better than an exile bastard in a mercenary company.
Aerion had taken several checks on the position of his gifts to Maekar, they were currently nearing Grassy Vale, the escorts intended on restocking their supply of food and continuing to Brightkeep and delivering the gifts. As the aged man rode around the walls of the castle, he'd find the young squires of the powerful house training with their great knights, while the lesser early-bird noblemen watched from a distance.
Aerion drilled them through their normal practices, marching in formation, one on one duels with blunt weapons, and simulated semi-battles. He'd feel the swords of the squires every once in a while, they were blunt and bland. Maybe even too blunt. The sound of the wood clashing against each other was not pleasant, many of the guardsmen had already retreated to anything behind a barrier in the vicinity of their posts. The lord of House Corbray was very strict when it came to training his warriors, the guardsmen were wise enough to not piss him off. The lord seemed calm enough, but whenever a courtier would drop a glass of water, he'd excuse himself and vent in his room. Not very good at hiding his emotions, but better than enough to convince the smallfolk.
One of the squires rose up, "Ser, wasn't the Battle of Redgrass Field in 196 AC?", Aerion was lecturing them on the small skirmishes in the beginning of the Blackfyre rebellion, leading up to the Battle of Redgrass Field. Aerion had mentioned that it took place in 197 AC, but the squire was painfully correct, some of the knights looked on in doubt at the group of squires, but most faces held normal expressions, confident to one certain year. "Right, Tommen, however, er.." Aerion was in no place to clout the squire for being right, but he wasn't about to be proved wrong. "however, I was mistaken," He'd not misinform the squires in front of their knights. Honor was not Aerion's highest priority, but keeping a job was.
The training finished soon after, and Aerion placed his tools for later use in the afternoon training session. Maybe he'd send a personal letter to Maekar, asking for a status check on Brightkeep. The evening wind blew past, the temperatures were getting lower, so low that Northern winds had made their way to the Vale. It may not be as fertile as the Reach, but the mountainous areas of the Vale kept the mild climate inside of them.
Suddenly, a courtier came rushing from inside of the castle hall, "Ser, Maekar has sent a raven of urgency,", The man was panting heavily, only few in Hearts Home knew of Brightkeep, but Aerion trusted that the courtier had not read the letter, if it was even about Brightkeep. Aerion took the letter from the courtier's hand, and it seemed to be untouched. He ripped the packaging and unfolded the paper.
"My dear father, it has been a desolate few weeks at Brightkeep without you here, we're running low on supply, but you helped us recover. The gifts were very nice, I will keep the sword in my collection, and the palfrey in the stable. But, as you could expect, hiding Brightkeep in Peake territory was not very easy, and the outcomes of a scout party adventuring past their usual patrol routes lead to our fort being discovered. Ser Robb and I tried to dispatch them and hide them in the bushes, hopefully leading their lord to believe that a couple of forest bandits attacked them, we failed. One of the scouts was badly wounded, and two of the others were sliced in non-fatal places. It will be no doubt that Lord Peake already knows that we reside here in his forests. This will surely lead to total war, but I believe that you can surely spare some of your time to help us in this troubling situation? I for one, will not die to lowly Peakes and fail to reclaim Summerhall. I hope you may send us aid, or perhaps arrive yourself, and I wish you a well and happy night.
Maekar Targaryen, Second of his Name."
The letter was written quite calmly, but it was indeed dangerous news, and the truth was, Aerion did not have the resources to save Brightkeep from extinction.
Aerion glanced at the last rays of the setting sun, and the heavy rain. The moon on the other side of Westeros was still rising, only half of it could be seen. Maekar's nameday was approaching, he was named after Aerion's late grandfather, who died on the Battle of Redgrass Field.
Aerion had plans to visit Brightkeep for Maekar's nameday, he'd already prepared several gifts of sufficient quality, a fine ornate silver sword, polished to match that of castle forged steel.
In addition to the sword, Aerion had also prepared a fine palfrey, looted from a battle with Robber Knights. It was no match compared to Aerion's warhorse, but the palfrey was enough to provide a nice showing to Maekar. Aerion's daughter Visenla, Maekar's sister-wife, was pregnant, so the palfrey would be a nice gift and would undoubtedly survive to be the child's first mount.
On top of the palfrey and the sword, Aerion had also payed for a host of sellswords to escort building equipment to Brightkeep, meant to be used to expand the small fort farther into the forests around Summerhall, and conceal it further from the current overlords of the Reach, House Peake.
The morning dew of yesterdays rain was already starting to disappear, many small creatures scuttled around the training grounds of Hearts Home. Aerion's job as Master-at-arms meant training all the new raised levies from the surrounding town, he was also tasked with leading troops in the scenario of internal war in the vale, it wasn't the highest position of command, but it was better than an exile bastard in a mercenary company.
Aerion had taken several checks on the position of his gifts to Maekar, they were currently nearing Grassy Vale, the escorts intended on restocking their supply of food and continuing to Brightkeep and delivering the gifts. As the aged man rode around the walls of the castle, he'd find the young squires of the powerful house training with their great knights, while the lesser early-bird noblemen watched from a distance.
Aerion drilled them through their normal practices, marching in formation, one on one duels with blunt weapons, and simulated semi-battles. He'd feel the swords of the squires every once in a while, they were blunt and bland. Maybe even too blunt. The sound of the wood clashing against each other was not pleasant, many of the guardsmen had already retreated to anything behind a barrier in the vicinity of their posts. The lord of House Corbray was very strict when it came to training his warriors, the guardsmen were wise enough to not piss him off. The lord seemed calm enough, but whenever a courtier would drop a glass of water, he'd excuse himself and vent in his room. Not very good at hiding his emotions, but better than enough to convince the smallfolk.
One of the squires rose up, "Ser, wasn't the Battle of Redgrass Field in 196 AC?", Aerion was lecturing them on the small skirmishes in the beginning of the Blackfyre rebellion, leading up to the Battle of Redgrass Field. Aerion had mentioned that it took place in 197 AC, but the squire was painfully correct, some of the knights looked on in doubt at the group of squires, but most faces held normal expressions, confident to one certain year. "Right, Tommen, however, er.." Aerion was in no place to clout the squire for being right, but he wasn't about to be proved wrong. "however, I was mistaken," He'd not misinform the squires in front of their knights. Honor was not Aerion's highest priority, but keeping a job was.
The training finished soon after, and Aerion placed his tools for later use in the afternoon training session. Maybe he'd send a personal letter to Maekar, asking for a status check on Brightkeep. The evening wind blew past, the temperatures were getting lower, so low that Northern winds had made their way to the Vale. It may not be as fertile as the Reach, but the mountainous areas of the Vale kept the mild climate inside of them.
Suddenly, a courtier came rushing from inside of the castle hall, "Ser, Maekar has sent a raven of urgency,", The man was panting heavily, only few in Hearts Home knew of Brightkeep, but Aerion trusted that the courtier had not read the letter, if it was even about Brightkeep. Aerion took the letter from the courtier's hand, and it seemed to be untouched. He ripped the packaging and unfolded the paper.
"My dear father, it has been a desolate few weeks at Brightkeep without you here, we're running low on supply, but you helped us recover. The gifts were very nice, I will keep the sword in my collection, and the palfrey in the stable. But, as you could expect, hiding Brightkeep in Peake territory was not very easy, and the outcomes of a scout party adventuring past their usual patrol routes lead to our fort being discovered. Ser Robb and I tried to dispatch them and hide them in the bushes, hopefully leading their lord to believe that a couple of forest bandits attacked them, we failed. One of the scouts was badly wounded, and two of the others were sliced in non-fatal places. It will be no doubt that Lord Peake already knows that we reside here in his forests. This will surely lead to total war, but I believe that you can surely spare some of your time to help us in this troubling situation? I for one, will not die to lowly Peakes and fail to reclaim Summerhall. I hope you may send us aid, or perhaps arrive yourself, and I wish you a well and happy night.
Maekar Targaryen, Second of his Name."
The letter was written quite calmly, but it was indeed dangerous news, and the truth was, Aerion did not have the resources to save Brightkeep from extinction.
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TheFordee20
One Thousand Club
Cassana Arryn
( At The Eyrie )
She awoke to sunlight. She was nude, though he duvet hid her. She turned her head to the man by her side. Luceon Stone. He guarded The Gate Of Moon and was a man almost ten years her age. She pushed the duvet off of her, and off of him as well. He opened her eyes and those eyes found hers. “Dawn already?” He asked her. He was a handsome man. With black eyes and even blacker hair. He scraped the sleep from his eyes and leaned in to lay a kiss on Cassana Arryn’s collarbone. He fucked her a last time before he left. It wouldn’t be right for me to be seen with him. Cassana thought. I’m still only a girl in their eyes.
When she was alone, she ached. She fell onto her pillow and wrapped her arms around it. Her chest felt on fire. Her tongue, dry. Cassana sat up. The Milk. She thought. She slipped from her sheets and walked over to the wall with the stout window. Her bare feet bobbed against the stone floor. When she got to the window, she grabbed the the futon cushion on the windowsill. It had a slit in it. She put her hand inside and when it came out, it held a vial of white. Milk Of The Poppy. She popped the cap and put the vial to her lips. The liquid slid down her. And, suddenly, she felt so light. She felt as if she could float.
Instead of floating, however, she hit her bed. She let out a long sigh. Every day, at dawn, she would drink the milk. It made her feel safe, it made her feel strong. It makes all the aching go away. Cassana opened her eyes and stared at the canopy above her. It was dotted with painted doves. It made her sad. Seeing the birds. Seeing how they couldn’t fly higher.
They are stuck in a standstill.
“They’ll never be free of the canopy.” Cassana stated. She became sadder after the statement. Kinda’ like myself, I guess.
A knock came. And Cass opened her eyes, once more. I must of fallen asleep. “Come in.” She called. It was Lynesse and Perra. They were her handmaidens. Lynesse was a friend, as well. Cassana didn’t particularly like Perra, however.
They washed her. And then Lynesse did Cass’s hair into a hoop.
“Your face is awfully puffy, my lady.” Perra said as she scrubbed Cassana’s shoulders. “I think the fish last night did not agree with me.” She replied.
After her hair was done, Lynesse painted Cass’s fingernails so that they were a fiendish black. “Do you think he’ll like you?” She asked as she did so.
“Who? Mine uncle?” Cassana asked.
Lynesse nodded.
“I’m not sure. I have never met him. My lady grandmother tells me he didn’t like my father too much. So he may not like me because of him.” Cass answered.
I do not blame him for his supposed ‘distaste’ of my him. My father was a… He wasn’t a good man. When she was all done up, Cass stepped out of the bath- with its water now cold. Lynesse brought out a ballgown. It was navy, with silvery silk sleeves and a bust to match. She dressed herself and then put in her earrings that resembled the hawk of House Arryn.
“You look ravishing.” Perra spoke.
“I know.” Cassana replied.
Downstairs in the dining hall, she found her sister, Kella, and her grandmother. They sat at the smaller table in which the ate their breakfasts at. Cassana commanded Lynesse and Perra to go get some food for themselves, and they did.
They curtsied and went off on their ownsome.
Cass sat down at the table. A plate was put in-front of her, and on it was an omelette. Along with three pieces of bread and a beef sausage.
“Is that the dress I got for you at Gulltown?” Grandmother asked. Her wrinkled hands hugged a glass of her morning Dornish. Cass smiled, “It is. I’ve only worn it thrice before. I thought I’d ought to wear it again, especially with today being such an occasion and all.”
“It looks marvelous on you, my little bird.” Grandmother began, “Makes me miss the days where I could wear such a thing and not have the bust hanging from my bones.”
The three girls all laughed.
“I think it looks very pretty on you, too.” Kella said with the sweetest smile. Cass smiled back at her. “Thank you, petal.” She poured herself a cup of citrus juice and took a sip of it. “I’m sure Nana can get you one for you when she is in Gulltown next. Right nana?”
Grandmother grinned with her thin lips, chapped by age. “Of course, petal. I will get you the most beautiful ballgown. Fit for a princess.”
“Ooh. Thank you, nana.” Kella beamed. She was a girl of eleven, yet she was so bright. I wish I was as bright as her at times. “Where is mother?” Cass asked Kella. However, her grandmother was the one who answered. “She is mourning this morning.” She said with a slight roll of eye. Cassana nodded. She’s still upset over grandfather, and Lyessa. “She will be okay, won’t she?” Kella asked as she took a bite from a bright purple plum. Cassana smiled, a sad smile.
“She will be perfect, petal.” Grandmother said, “Your mother had already survived so much sorrow. She will survive this, too.”
Cassana ate her breakfast, in silence. She was still feeling the effects of the milk. She listened to the lulling talks her nana and Kella had. They talked about Kella’s horse, Flora, and how Kella would be learning how to ride her proper. The talk soon turned to Cass’s grandmother complaining about how her hip was about to give out. Until Alester was mentioned. Uncle Alester.
“What’s he like, nana?” Kella asked.
“He was a good boy. A brave boy. He would always make me laugh. Even when the joke was a bad one.” Grandmother looked gloomy as she spoke. “But that was when he was a boy. I haven’t seen him in forty eight years.”
Kella’s eyes widened at the figure, “Wow.”
“I do not know of the man he has become.” She added, sipping on her wine. Cass swallowed a piece of a sausage and washed it down with juice. Maybe I should have some wine, as well? “And you have not heard one word in those years, nana?” Cass asked.
Grandmother nodded.
“Not one. Your grandfather died, and Alester stayed silent. Not a letter. Nor a word. Your uncle died, and he stayed silent. Your own father died, and he stayed silent.” Grandmother spoke, “I should slap him for that. For the silence.”
“I think he may deserve it.” Cassana said.
“He may.” Grandmother agreed.
Breakfast had ended, and Kella begged her grandmother to come and look at her horse before Alester arrived at The Eyrie. They left, and Cassana was lonely. Till her mother walked in. Wearing all black. A white wolf sewn to her breast. They did not talk for a while. Cassana just watched as her mother ate from the plate set down for her. Cass broke the fast of silence herself. “Are you alright?” Cass asked. She was genuinely concerned.
“I’m alright.”
Cass tried to smile, “That is good.”
Lady Kyra took a breath.
“I am glad.” Cass said, softly.
“As am I.”
It was silence again. Cassana hated the quiet. Quiet was a reason she really was not fond of The Eyrie. It was always too quiet. Cass stood up and excused herself. But before she reached the door, her mother beckoned her back-
“Cass, wait.”
“Yes, mother?”
“Come here.”
Cass slowly walked over to where her mother sat. In all her blackness. “What is it?” Cass asked, as she knelt down.
Lady Kyra began to cry. A wolf’s cry. She sobbed. And as she sobbed, she clung to Cassana. Cassana clung back. “Shush. It’s alright, mother.” Cass calmed her. “I’m so sick of it, Cass.” Kyra said, “I am so sick of being strong. Why bother showing strength when all you are awarded with is sadness?” They embraced.
“I’ve lost lots. Death has taken my father, and your father, and three of my sons. And Lyessa… ” Kyra wept. Lyessa Stark, my cousin. She was to be wed to Prince Vaegon. Instead of being wed, she ended up dead in King’s Landing. Cassana felt anger flush over her. Lyessa was more like a daughter than a niece to mine mother.
Cassana tried to throw her ‘jealousy’ aside, though. In this moment, she would weep with her mother. Not envy the one she was weeping over. In this moment, she thought of Cley. Oh, Cley. She quickly let go of those thoughts though.
They hugged for half an hour. Until Kyra’s cries ceased. She wiped her eyes with a napkin. “Leave me be for a while, Cass.” She said as she placed the napkin to her nose.
Cass curtsied,
“Of course, mother.”
Cassana spent the next few hours watching the sun hover in the sky through The Moon Door. The milk had mostly worn off. She closed her eyes and felt the breeze on her face. It calmed her. Almost as much as the milk does.
Her eyes opened when a group entered the hall. It was a group of soldiers, led by Lord Durwen Corbray. He was a friend to her father. And a friend to her at times. She liked him. “What seems to be the matter, Durwen?” She asked, standing up.
“They’re here, my lady.”
Cassana blinked, “Bring them in.”
Durwen nodded at his men and the doors opened. Cassana tried to stand tall. As Alester Arryn walked in. He was old. Quite old. Behind him was a group of four. Two young men, a woman with the blackest skin, and a hooded figure.
“Uncle.” Cassana said, softly.
Alester walked over to her and hugged her.
“Look at you.” He said, as they hugged. She was taken aback a bit. “You have Osgood’s eyes.” He said with a smile. He finally let her go. And then frantically bowed. “Um, my lady.” He said, “Forgive me. My Westerosi mannerisms have faded from spending time on foreign soil.”
Cassana smirked, “No need to apologise, Ser Alester.” She looked at the companions he came with. “These are all with you, yes?”
Alester nodded.
“This is Rog, and Quence. Rog is Pentoshi. Quence is a Braavosi. And so is Nara there.” He said, pointing at the lady with skin like the night. “And this is-”
“Alester?” A voice called.
Cassana looked at the doorway to see her nana standing there, in a dress of deep grey.
“M-Mother.” Alester stuttered…
They stared at one another for some time. Before she walked over to him. She placed her hand on his cheek and then slapped it. “Is that all you have to say after all those years abroad? Mother?” Grandmother said, the bags under her eyes cradled tears.
“I’m sorry, mother. I am so sorry.” He said, as she began to sob. She wrapped her arms around him and they hugged. “I’m so, so sorry.” Alester repeated.
Cassana stood there.
Her gaze moved from Alester and her grandmother, to the hooded young man. Why is he hiding? She wondered.
After the hugging had halted, Alester looked at Cassana. “Do you mind if we all speak privately? There is much to talk of.” He said, as he stared at the guards behind Durwen. Cassana looked at Durwen, “Dismiss the guards. We have matters to discuss.”
TheFordee20
One Thousand Club
Cassana Arryn
( At The Eyrie )
When the guards left, the room lingered with silence. I hate the quiet. “If you wish to walk with me to the council room?” Cass called out to Alester. He nodded, “That’d be efficient.”
She nodded back.
“Shall we?”
They began their walk.
“I saw soldiers of House Sunderland manning The Bloody Gate.” Alester spoke, as they strolled out of the great hall. Cassana looked at him. Her face as cold as the stone they walked on. “They’ve been manning it all my life.”
Alester wore a look of worry. He doesn’t like that. Cass cleared her throat. Neither do I. “They have been rulers of The Vale for about three decades.”
Alester looked at her, “When I lived here- they weren’t.”
“When you lived here, a Targaryen sat The Iron Throne. Things change, Ser Alester.” She retorted. He let out a scoff,
“They still do, in my mind.”
“They still what?”
“They still sit The Iron Throne.”
Cassana gifted him with one of her glares, “Careful. If the wrong person heard you even whispering such a thing.”
“I don’t whisper it,” Alester said “I shout it from the highest hill.”
Is he mad?
When they reached the door to the council room, Durwen opened it. It was decorated with red wallpaper. The only room in The Eyrie that isn’t a shade of blue, or grey. Cassana entered the room first and foremost.
The room with red walls was empty, apart from a long table- made of ironwood. Six chairs were seated at the table. Cassana claimed the one at the table’s top. She sat down and a servant came in with a flagon of Arbor Red. The servant placed it in the middle of the table, as everyone else took their seats.
“Thank you.” Grandmother said to the servant as they left.
To Cass’s left, was her nana. To her right, was Lord Durwen. Cassana poured herself a cup of red, and offered it to her nana.
“No, thank you, my little bird. I only drink Dornish.” She said, politely. Cassana adjusted her sitting position and placed the cup to her lips. She sipped the red. Across from her was the young man, in his hood.
Who is he? Why has he yet to reveal himself? Cass stole another sip from her cup.
“So.” Cass began,
“I assume you aren’t just here to see your family, Ser Alester.”
Alester, who sat by the hooded young man’s right, looked at her and grinned. The grin didn’t seem genuine, but Cassana was unsure.
“You would be right.” He responded. Right after saying this, Cass’s grandmother let out a ‘tut’ and grabbed the flagon of red. “Then why are you here, Alester?” She asked, angrily, whilst filling herself a cup from the flagon.
“I’m here because…” Alester sighed.
He looked at the hooded man, who remained still in his seat. “I’m here because-”
“Because?” Cass interrupted him.
“Because I left here, all those years ago, with an objective. You must remember, mother.” He spoke, softly. Cass looked at her grandmother. Nana’s face was like stone. What is this about? Cassana thought to herself.
“I left with the only two Targaryens. Father asked me to. He asked me, and the men he sent with me, to watch over them. To serve them.”
Cassana’s eyes grew.
“I never asked you to.” Nana spoke with a sip of her wine, “I wanted my baby boy to stay by my side. I lost one son in the rebellion, and then your father told me he was sending another son to serve those who lost said rebellion. I hated him for it.”
Cassana could see the tears in her eyes.
Alester bit his tongue.
“And now your back. You are back, and you are okay. You look just like how I imagined you to look after all those horrible years I spent without my son.” Nana spoke, “So what do you want, Alester? What do you want!?”
“I want change.” He said, sternly.
“Change?” Cassana asked, with a raise of her brow.
“You said so yourself in the hallway, my lady. Things change.” He said. “And I want things to change. I want The Blackfyres to lose what little of a hold they have on these kingdoms.”
He is mad.
He-
The young man arose. He was well-built, and taller than most. The hood that had hidden his face was drawn down to reveal a smile- as warm as the sun. His skin was slightly bronzed and his eyes were sharp. His eyes…
“Oh… ” Cassana gasped.
His eyes were a dark violet. The colour was a rare one, and even rarer on a young man who lacked the counterpart silver hair. His hair was not silver, no. It was was as black as a raven. Another bird. Cassana stood up, to meet his gaze.
Only he isn’t a bird.
He gave a courteous nod to her, and her grandmother. “I am truly grateful to you and the hospitality you have shown us thus far. I thank you, Lady Arryn.” He spoke. His voice was soothing. And lower than she had expected it to be.
He’s a dragon.
JPTheWarrior
♥ Jack of Hearts ♥
Ethan Waynwood
The Vale, somewhere very close to the Eyrie
Ethan was exhausted. He had been riding a horse for days now, trying to reach the Eyrie, but the ancient castle was miles away from the inn where he and his group were sleeping in. He guessed it has been a week since he last saw them. His group was made from people all around the seven kingdoms and they were all like Ethan. They were individuals that loved acting and shows and dropped everything they had to pursue a career of performers. It had been three years since Ethan met them and they became all very close friends. Ethan even considers them as his own family. So what made him leave his family for three weeks? Well there was only one person that could make Ethan travel so far away, risking himself to get killed by bandits and that woman was Lady Cassana Arryn, the being of all of Ethan's affection. Even if she had rejected him many years ago, his feelings never changed and he never forgot her. He never layed hands on another woman, nor sought the company of one at night to distract him from his loneliness.The Vale, somewhere very close to the Eyrie
However, there is a limit for how long a man can last without his heart. That was the reason he came back to the Eyrie after so long, just to see Cassana once again. This feeling of anticipation and devotion to the Lady Arryn was what made him able to travel so many days. His stomach wasn't happy and it didn't stop complaining. His mouth also earned for something to fresh it. Water... he thought as he reached for his canteen. He opened it and touched the tip with his dry mouth. It was empty, which lead to a very long and exasperated sigh from the second son of Lord Waynwood. Putting the useless object on his bag, Ethan raised his head. The castle was getting closer and closer which could only mean one thing "Woah... I missed this view" he said with a smile seconds after he looked to his right, facing himself with the vast and breathtaking landscape that was the Vale. He could see the mountain range that were iconic. Everyone knew about the beautiful Mountains of the Moon that surrounded and protected the Vale.
This sight gave him hope! He was almost reaching the ancient castle. "Let's go boy" he said to his horse. Another hour or two passed before he reached the gates to the Eyrie. His entrance should be easier here. In the Bloody Gate and Gates of the Moon he only needed to say his name. There were there old soldiers that knew who he was. Ethan had noticed that, even if they were the same people as three years ago, the atmosphere that surrounded them was not. Tension would float in the air like anytime a fight might start at any given moment. Ethan assumed it was because of the rivalry between House Sunderland and House Arryn.
Ethan wasn't even sure of how much time had passed when he suddently looked up, facing himself with three soldiers and... the gate which lead to the Eyrie! Seeing this gave him more energy, like he could suddently run the marathon. Ethan's lips curled into a broad true smile as he jumped out of his horse. He almost fell splat on the ground. His legs were hurting from the exhaustion "Who's there?" a flat, gruff voice spoke. Ethan looked at one of the three guards that stood in front of him. He hand his left hand on the sword handle, signing him that if he tried something he would have his throat slit. Ethan looked at each guard and he cursed mentally. He didn't know who none of them were. "The one standing in front of you is none other than Ethan Waynwood, son of Lord Waynwood and Lord of the Ironoaks" he said full of conviction. The men, however, weren't convinced. Ethan noticed their expressions of disbelief and so, before any of them could answer he said "Both the guards of the Bloody Gate and Gates of the Moon recognized me. Isn't that enough proof?" he asked with a smile, assured that they would change their minds.
The man who had spoken to him shook his head. "My apologies, but we can't let you in without being certain." Ethan's mind started thinking of a way he could have the guards believe him "Can you send a messenger to Lady Arryn? We grew together. She will know that I speak the truth." he asked and the soldier nodded. One of the guards ordered to open the gate. The iron gate started lifting, raising itself from the ground. The guard signed Ethan to come with me and both entered the Eyrie.
Inside, Ethan couldn't help but smile. Everything looked the same as it was when he left. The guard ordered a servant to go and call Lady Cassana. The female servant, brown of hair and green eyes, rushed to where the Lady was...
TheFordee20
Math
Ancient Chinese Warlord Batman
Aerion II
There had been a number of days since Aerion finished training a new batch of levies. Heart's Home was filled with all different kinds of troops and equipment, though the problem of Summerhall kept him awake at night. They could not solve it diplomatically, as Maekar stated. Perhaps they could pay in blood price, but a wounded leader is not a good leader. House Peake was likely to spend troops, the scouts that discovered Brightkeep could not have seen the troops inside of the keep, so it is likely that they'd send around two score to two centuries of soldiers. The best possible path of action would be to send Visenla to Heart's Home, and distract the Peake retinue from her for as long as possible.
Aerion contained this in his response, it would already be halfway to Brightkeep by now. If Maekar was any smart, then he would've already done it. Rhaegon had been missing for a few weeks since last time Aerion saw him at the castle, he'd already taken out some of his own pocketmoney to hire bounty hunters that would find Rhaegon. If Maekar perished, he'd be the future of House Brightflame, and although Aerion did not like to admit it, also the future of the dragon blood, if all the damned Targaryens were dead.
There would be nothing for Aerion to do, except wait. He was growing older, but still able, and Aerion wouldn't let the rest of the world see only a tip of House Brightflame's glory.
There had been a number of days since Aerion finished training a new batch of levies. Heart's Home was filled with all different kinds of troops and equipment, though the problem of Summerhall kept him awake at night. They could not solve it diplomatically, as Maekar stated. Perhaps they could pay in blood price, but a wounded leader is not a good leader. House Peake was likely to spend troops, the scouts that discovered Brightkeep could not have seen the troops inside of the keep, so it is likely that they'd send around two score to two centuries of soldiers. The best possible path of action would be to send Visenla to Heart's Home, and distract the Peake retinue from her for as long as possible.
Aerion contained this in his response, it would already be halfway to Brightkeep by now. If Maekar was any smart, then he would've already done it. Rhaegon had been missing for a few weeks since last time Aerion saw him at the castle, he'd already taken out some of his own pocketmoney to hire bounty hunters that would find Rhaegon. If Maekar perished, he'd be the future of House Brightflame, and although Aerion did not like to admit it, also the future of the dragon blood, if all the damned Targaryens were dead.
There would be nothing for Aerion to do, except wait. He was growing older, but still able, and Aerion wouldn't let the rest of the world see only a tip of House Brightflame's glory.
MEANWHILE, IN THE IRON ISLANDS
Rhaegon Brightflame
Bickering lords, foolish they were. While they're at each others necks, Dagon would already be preparing to stop their conflict. Most of the bystanders of the realm were unaligned to the conflict or unknowing of Dagon's plans, but Rhaegon did not have empty pockets. 'Informants', weren't cheap, but they were affordable. Rhaegon Rhaegon wasn't a good talker, but he planned to get in the conflicts of the Iron Islands somehow. Licking Dagon's boots would not be pleasurable, but it'd be worth it to fuck a few wives and kill some Lannisters. He walked through the slimmer streets of Pyke, Dagon would surely be up ahead. Reavers and Guards were already filling the roads, walking to local barracks' to answer their king's call. There were Essosi mercenaries too, holding strange weapons and very ornate armor. Rhaegon looked up at the tall castle of Pyke, it wasn't as magnificent as the Eyrie, or Casterly Rock, but it must've been much bigger than most castles in the Iron Islands.
Rhaegon stepped into the tavern, it was almost night, but there'd probably be enough time to stop by and buy something nice. He threw a coin at the Tavern Keeper,
"What can that buy?"
"Mayhaps a piglet and a drink."
"I'll have that."
The Tavern Keeper filled a cup with Volantene Wine without asking Rhaegon, and slid it across the table where it stopped in front of Rhaegon. Rhaegon took it and devoured the contents of the entire cup in one foul gulp, before waiting a few minutes for the piglet. The piglet drowned in sauce, but at least the salt was on spot. Rhaegon ate, deciding that taverns in the Islands were mediocre, and continued to the castle.
"Food isn't what I'm here for."
Dagon was undoubtedly going to be unpredictable, Rhaegon had never encountered an Iron Islander in his time as a mercenary, nor at his time at the Vale. Dagon seemed an experienced man, but there'd be no way to know what he'd see Rhaegon as. Rumors and stories of the Iron Islands had always depicted them as strong experienced warriors, and the best sealords in the world, but with the organization they had right now, there would be no way they'd compete against House Blackfyre.
"Oi Sam, you heard what they're doing to that Saltcliffe in Sunderly?"
"She's a noblewoman, they won't do shit!"
Rhaegon was curious, was this the supposed minor 'conflict' in the Iron Isles that he'd heard about? Surely they wouldn't be doing anything harsh, what would the houses even be doing?
"What's this fight you men are discussing?"
"Nothing your kind should know, M'lord." The man said back, condescendingly.
"I'm sure I'll find out, either way."
Rhaegon went on his way to meet Dagon. One of the courtiers would be sure to inform him of the bitterness between House Sunderly, and House Saltcliffe. Rhaegon stood outside the castle gates, anxiously waiting to take an audience with Dagon, knowing his skill with talking, the guards probably wouldn't even let him in.
"I seek to talk with Dagon Greyjoy."
The guards looked at each other for a split moment, before breaking off into laughter.
"Good luck with that,"
It seemed Rhaegon needed to approach differently.
Bickering lords, foolish they were. While they're at each others necks, Dagon would already be preparing to stop their conflict. Most of the bystanders of the realm were unaligned to the conflict or unknowing of Dagon's plans, but Rhaegon did not have empty pockets. 'Informants', weren't cheap, but they were affordable. Rhaegon Rhaegon wasn't a good talker, but he planned to get in the conflicts of the Iron Islands somehow. Licking Dagon's boots would not be pleasurable, but it'd be worth it to fuck a few wives and kill some Lannisters. He walked through the slimmer streets of Pyke, Dagon would surely be up ahead. Reavers and Guards were already filling the roads, walking to local barracks' to answer their king's call. There were Essosi mercenaries too, holding strange weapons and very ornate armor. Rhaegon looked up at the tall castle of Pyke, it wasn't as magnificent as the Eyrie, or Casterly Rock, but it must've been much bigger than most castles in the Iron Islands.
Rhaegon stepped into the tavern, it was almost night, but there'd probably be enough time to stop by and buy something nice. He threw a coin at the Tavern Keeper,
"What can that buy?"
"Mayhaps a piglet and a drink."
"I'll have that."
The Tavern Keeper filled a cup with Volantene Wine without asking Rhaegon, and slid it across the table where it stopped in front of Rhaegon. Rhaegon took it and devoured the contents of the entire cup in one foul gulp, before waiting a few minutes for the piglet. The piglet drowned in sauce, but at least the salt was on spot. Rhaegon ate, deciding that taverns in the Islands were mediocre, and continued to the castle.
"Food isn't what I'm here for."
Dagon was undoubtedly going to be unpredictable, Rhaegon had never encountered an Iron Islander in his time as a mercenary, nor at his time at the Vale. Dagon seemed an experienced man, but there'd be no way to know what he'd see Rhaegon as. Rumors and stories of the Iron Islands had always depicted them as strong experienced warriors, and the best sealords in the world, but with the organization they had right now, there would be no way they'd compete against House Blackfyre.
"Oi Sam, you heard what they're doing to that Saltcliffe in Sunderly?"
"She's a noblewoman, they won't do shit!"
Rhaegon was curious, was this the supposed minor 'conflict' in the Iron Isles that he'd heard about? Surely they wouldn't be doing anything harsh, what would the houses even be doing?
"What's this fight you men are discussing?"
"Nothing your kind should know, M'lord." The man said back, condescendingly.
"I'm sure I'll find out, either way."
Rhaegon went on his way to meet Dagon. One of the courtiers would be sure to inform him of the bitterness between House Sunderly, and House Saltcliffe. Rhaegon stood outside the castle gates, anxiously waiting to take an audience with Dagon, knowing his skill with talking, the guards probably wouldn't even let him in.
"I seek to talk with Dagon Greyjoy."
The guards looked at each other for a split moment, before breaking off into laughter.
"Good luck with that,"
It seemed Rhaegon needed to approach differently.
