-[4 Years Earlier]-

A smile plays upon his lips, his footwork the opposite of your own, the crowd of Second Sons that had gathered to cheer on the spot of ‘sport’ fills your ears with drunken revelry. Behind you looms the walls of Pentos, tall and massive stone things. The Second Sons had made camp here for reasons entirely unknown to you, likely a contract of some sort, Mero had gone alone into the city, leaving the rest of you to your own devices for the night. The new leader of the Second Sons wasn’t the particular sort you were fond of, he took contracts that left a sense of unease in the pit of your stomach, Ser Mason Flowers and Solhas za Tarbeck had agreed, plans had begun to form to leave. The Golden Company needed men, the Windblown and Tatters looked promising, just a few more years...

Your mind ceases restless wandering, focusing again on the task at hand, a new recruit, supposedly a Knight from the Riverlands. Not much older than yourself it looked, but the gung ho cockiness that wore upon his face had drawn the ire of some of the older sods, and thus you were here. A friendly spot of ‘sport’ Marqus Mudd liked to call it, more like hazing Mason would say. He was adorned like a Knight, castle-forged steel plate and sword, his stances were Westerosi to be certain, the way he pushed you off your attack with his shield was almost as crisp as Mason’s own, but not quite. And in Essos, fighting like an honorable Knight was more likely to get you killed in your line of work. You press your attack again as the Second Sons begin to get restless again, egging you on. Your armor afforded you a quicker step and you were into a rolling swing off his shield the moment he brought it up in defense. The old steel lashes across the back of his knees with your follow through, and he stumbles from the strike and lack of stop for his own momentum.

Vyror Ahyrs and Alester Urswyck burst into laughter as you come off the exchange relatively unharmed, playing to the crowd of assorted sellswords. This had been the third time you managed to go unscathed in a row and the Knight looked to be at his wit’s end having dropped his sword and raising his hands in surrender.

“I yield,” he says as he turns around, sweat having pressed his chestnut hair to his forehead, the smiling continuing to dance upon his lips, “My cousin had the misfortune of jousting a Malroy in a Tourney at Harrenhal. He left with a broken arm. I will count myself fortunate to have only tarnished my pride and some battered knees.”

The crowd begins to dissipate as you stare at the man, “How did you know I was a Malroy?”

The Riverlands Knight crosses the makeshift practice yard and offering out his hand, “Kind of hard to miss the gold horse pin, Ser?”

“Brynden. And not a Ser,” you say taking his hand roughly.

He laughs the smile still not having left the corners of his lips, “Not Ser than perhaps Lord? Ser Victor Haigh. At your service.”

“A Frey croony then? Tell me does old Lord Walder Frey still sit upon the Twins?” Mason asks having come up behind you.

“Does the High Septon ever pray, Ser Knight? Seven be good if the old sod ever dies. Lady Bethany Rosby, his… Sixth I think? Just passed, I was told before my coming here, and now he courts a Seventh, woman from the Crownlands if my father is to be believed. And a Frey croony I am not. My House is sworn to the Twins yes. But I am here for my own purposes. Adventure, coin, a little bit of wine and women. It’s in my heart, lust for something more.”

“Not a banished son? Disgraced by his own hand?” Mason asks.

“Hardly,” Victor responds with a scoff, “I’m in line for nothing in the Riverlands, unless my cousin dies childless. Why not come here? Enjoy my youth. Seven knows Westeros hardly has anything to do outside play fighting anymore.”

“Greater truth has never been spoken,” you say allowing your own smile, “Welcome to the Second Sons, Ser Victor. Come drink with us.”

The smile dances about his face, young as it was, “It would be my pleasure Lord Malroy.”

“Let’s not start that Ser Victor.”

-[Present Day]-

“How you doing Victor?”

“Hurting like a son of a whore Lord Malroy,” Victor responds from his place on the floor, one of the freed captives is helping Yondril tend to his tattered leg, he grunts in pain as the pull out the last of the bolts, “Tell me doc, will I ever walk again? Or should I start shopping around with the butcher?”

“Funny,” Yondril responds simply as he pulls something he had been chewing from his mouth and forcing it into the hole, “Will walk. Not for while. Need rest. Hold here woman, pressure. Do not speak with Victor. Tongue knows no bounds.”

“Thanks Yon,” Victor says with an allowed amount of sarcasm. Yondril nods to you as he stands, wiping his hands clean of Victor’s blood. Eyes cast about the dim room, more than a few of the prisoners still needed attention, more than your company doctor could give at least. They were still massively unsafe here in the crypts below the forgotten hall. Armed sellswords sat overhead, at least 200 if you had to take a guess. You simply couldn’t whisk them away under night’s cover, “Brynden? You alright up there?” Victor asks.

“Worried Vic. A lot more people here than I expected. Dontos is still hours out and we’re dead middle in enemy territory with wounded men.”

“Mason doesn’t seem concerned.”

You cast your eyes towards your old friend, head turned towards the darkness of the crypts beyond, leaning against the walls with arms crossed hoping Marqus Mudd and Alester Urswyck would be back soon with the Dargood captains. The frown upon his face spoke to quite the opposite of Victor’s words, a purposeful oversight on the Haigh’s part you knew. Taking a seat next to him you run a hand over your hair, the tight braid having hardly come undone in the previous conflict, Isis’ black ribbon a smooth and calming contrast.

“I always hated Myr. We went on contract there, what? Two times in the three years I was with the Sons? Always with the bloody crossbows. Oh one isn’t enough, got to throw three of the damned things at you,” Victor says with a laugh, cringing a bit from the pain, “But we always came out of it Brynden. I trust ya. The captives do as well I’d imagine. And knowing Mas he’s blaming ‘imself for shit out of his control more than he ought to.”

“Brynden,” Mason’s voice calls filling the room with its loud baritone. summoning you.

“Rest up,” you say pushing off the ground and swinging your bow off your shoulder, an arrow notched lazily as you approach. Marqus and Alester push down two bound men before yourself and Mason, and pulling the bags from their heads, the Dargood Captains. They were both in a state of undress and sleep still hung upon their eyes.

“Wot is this!” the elder one asks, looking about the room with a faded eye, “Who te hell are you? And, wot the fuck is Ser Dargood doing in chains!?”

The other man is looking about frantically, the captives pressing as far away into the corners as they can, looks of fear still worn upon their faces. His eyes come to rest upon you, tall and proud, hair of silver, black bow and arrow, wildfire pouring over them. He licks his lips with a quiver, “Seven above, your Lord Brynden Malroy. The Blackshaft. Emmett, shut the hell up man. They came, they found us.”

You stand over them as tongues both silence, eyes suddenly filled with fear. Your own burning in the torches that lit the dank crypt. Silence fills the room, the murmur of the captives having died down at the sound of your name. Most hadn’t known yet. It was a not a matter of importance to you that they had. You sigh, and nod towards the Sons to pick the men up, bringing them to the only private and still lit place you could find. As they sat roughly upon the floor you take a seat across from them, plucking at your bowstring in silent thought.

>Convince them to your side. Providing evidence of Tano Osten’s lies to their liegelord and the slaves.
>Intimidate them into compliance. Banditry and slavery were no small crime. And you had a lot of leverage.

Look at that we're back. Apologies for yesterday. End of thread is going to have some news regarding the quest. Good to see you all again. For those in uni hope finals went well and that you're enjoying your summer break.

>>47234022
>Convince them to your side

Honestly just tell them how deep in shit they are, we all know it. When the army comes there won't be any mercy, just looking to spare as much bloodshed as possible.

Convince them to turn traitor against Osteen.

>>47234022
>>47234112

And glad that your back. Really been missing a good quest.

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>>47234022

>Convince them to your side. Providing evidence of Tano Osten’s lies to their liegelord and the slaves.

>>47234022
>Convince them to your side. Providing evidence of Tano Osten’s lies to their liegelord and the slaves.

However we should not be afraid intimidate if we have to.

>>47234163
And i have no idea how come my trip is still on.

Sorry.

>>47234175
When will you run again?

>>47234201
Tomorrow.

Bit of a slow start, to be expected.

Anyway, looks like we'll go with Convince.

Roll 5d6 for Convince.

Rolled 6, 4, 5, 6, 4 = 25 (5d6)

>>47234228

Rolling for the silver tongue

>>47234228

Rolled 1, 4, 3, 4, 3 = 15 (5d6)

>>47234228
Here we go

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

>>47234228
>>47234228
Trust me, I'm kind.

>>47234273
>>47234252
Well that should just about do it

Rolled 3, 4, 1, 4, 2 = 14 (5d6)

>>47234228

>>47234252
>>47234270
>>47234273
21,14, 19

Damn son look at that first roll. Solid way to come back.

Alright writing, sorry if I'm a bit slow today. Little out of practice, should get better as we go on. Today will be the last of this battle.

I'm here, sorry I'm late

>>47234295
>When we return Obella will have turned into a hormonal tyrant

>>47234295
Oi ye barmy bastard! Don't worry dad you'll get used to it.

>>47234323

>hormonal tyrant who sells romance novels to the young girls of the reach of her husbands exploits.

>>47234252
Fucking Malroy son

>>47234342
>All very true and have at least a company of men as witness.

>>47233947
Hey father, I can't thank you enough for running today. Life has been shitting on me and my loved ones, and I could use the diversion. Sincerely

>>47234342
>>47234379
>Dontos is surprisingly a big supporter of the novels

>>47234490
Only cause they feature an ex targ Prince.

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Father Father you are here! Huzzaaa! Friday evening is complete now!

Scholagladiatorias Tower of Joy review and this same time!!!

Father and anons how hyped are you for Cleganebowl after the last episode fucking confirmed it?

>>47234733
Wait, Gleganebowl confirmed? Did I miss something?

>>47234775
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XAGR735xfgM

>>47234775
They hinted it suuuuper fucking unsubtly during the Arya scene when they talked about the Hound's death

>>47234818
>Robert Strong confirmed as Gregor Clegane
>Confirmed as Cersei's champion in a trial by combat against Sparrow
>Hound unsubtly hinted at Arya scene
It's fucking confirmed get hype

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>>47234775

Emmett Waters: Success, two degrees.
Harys Pottmore: Success: three degrees.

“Harkon, bring Osten over here,” you say. The fat man is plopped in front of you, his hands and neck still tangled up in the shrew’s fiddle, a lump of cloth keeping his mouth shut. One of his eyes had begun to swell from where your fist had landed. He begins to sputter and yell through the gag at the Dargood Captains who look at him with horror before eyes land upon you again.

“This man is Tano Osten. Not ‘Ser Dargood’ as he has pretended to be. Marqus show them the papers,” you say. The Muddman, as Victus liked to call him, drops the few papers you had found with his name, the figures and sums of the trade going on beneath their feet. It was not much, but enough to that if found it would lead back to House Dargood, only you had the pieces that lead it further, “Tano Osten, is the nephew of a would-be magister in the Free City of Myr. He is Essosi, not a long lost Dargood here to save the House from ruin. His uncle is a slaver. Those men, women, and children you saw down here. They are- were rather slaves. No longer.”

The younger man is going through the papers, reading at as slow a pace as you can expect the common born to. Occasionally he’ll say a word or two to the other man who has yet to look away from you towards the papers scattered before him. He’s chewing on the inside of his mouth, spitting a black liquid onto the stone below him upon occasion. But never breaking his eye contact.

“Oi, what’s your problem?” Harkon asks him, tapping the back of his spear against his back and nearly knocking him over.

“Can’t read milord,” he says simply, gathering himself up again to maintain his eye contact with you, “Harys said he couldn’t neither.”

“O-only the simple words, milord. I know names and figures. Not much… else. Seven be good, we’re doomed Emmett,” the younger man responds flipping through what he can and can’t read before falling back onto his behind, the papers a scattered mess before him, “You truly speak true milord?”

“In all things,” you respond, flicking a wrist for Harkon to pick up the papers again, “This man is a lying snake. His allies are my enemies, as much as they are your liegelords. He was fooled into helping these men, hiring them, hosting them. All of it, a lie. They would bankrupt House Dargood, he is their sacrificial lamb.”

The men sit quiet, the elder, Emmett continues to chew and spit out his black tar, the younger, Harys rocking back and forth and clutching his hair in his hands. The elderly and green, the last able bodied men of a failing House. You didn’t doubt this was the extent of it. Between the archers and what was left of the Bright Banners here, House Dargood was more than on its last legs. It was ready to collapse.

“Wot do you wants of us?” Emmett asks after a long silence.

“Your cooperation. I am well aware, House Dargood has been fooled, that they are not my true enemy. The silver tongue of this fat princeling is enough to convince a well it is in need of water. His family makes their money that way afterall. You, House Dargood, are not my enemy,” you state, “My men, lead by the Black Knight himself, are marching as we speak. They bring siege engines, veteran foot, cavalry. Twice the army you have here. If you wish to live, to avoid needless bloodshed. You will cooperate with me. Is this understood?”

The men look at each other, the elder hanging his head a moment longer before glancing back at you, “They told us we was fighting ‘the last dragon’, bunch of fookin’ hogwash dat. King should be doin’ dat I said. But no. We out here, fightin’, dyin’. My son. He died. Up on dat Trident. Harys’ pa, he died Seven fookin’ knows where. I tell you what your lordship, I’m done fightin’. Me and te greybeards, we ‘s all done. You gots me cooperation.”

Harys nods along, “We… The Lads and I, we… We’ll stand down milord. I won’t be part of slavery. No Ser, not ‘ere.”

You sigh, resting your bow across your legs, “Good. Now, tell me everything. Time is short.”

---

A moment later you’ve gathered just about the extent of what you can from the two Dargood Captains. Emmett seemed to know about us much as you would expect of someone of his rank. Where the stables were at, the guard rotations, Aeror’s orders. As it happens, not a few weeks passed they were shorted two shipments. At a guess you assume it was the ones Wesley had found in Hayford. Aeror got into a fight with Tano, who assured him everything would be fine and their money would arrive. But ever since then, they hadn’t heard a word. Emmett had assumed they were waiting on the shipment to arrive, but he began to see less and less of Tano as the days went on, rumors began to circulate through the camps. And the sellswords had begun to get more aggressive. When patrols began to go missing, Tano disappeared entirely and the Dargood men were beginning to get restless.

Harys on the other hand seemed a fairer bit smarter beyond his years, still wet behind the ears but he knew enough to be useful. The sellsword here were the veterans of the company. Aeror was their leader, obviously, and was one of the Captains of the Bright Banners themselves. There were 240 sellswords here. Two of them were veteran footed units. The other two light cavalry, they took turns on guard rotation. They didn’t have any range outside the Dargood Archers however. The Dargood men were green as gooseshit, but had the walls to their advantage in any fights. The camps were seperated, with the Dargood men being closer to the weak side of the wall that you entered, while the sellswords were all gathered in the old hall’s ruins or the camp just outside. The hall itself still had a few rooms. Aeror kept personal captives there, his man Adaren Ormion had captured someone of relative importance in one of his raids before disappearing the day before last. Aeror had grown paranoid with the silence, and with his second hand man disappearing, he had grown impatient and was ready to leave the next day.

In the end, while they were willing to cooperate with you. Emmett was done, he wouldn’t fight either side, more willing to take his men and flee. While Harys was ready to fight, for what reason you didn’t know, but enough to tell you 100 men would be on your side. At guess the guards you killed tonight would ruin one of their light cavalry forces, dropping them down to about 220 while you stood at 120. The Sons of Gold were definitely trained better, but in overwhelming odds and without horses they were crippled comparably.

As you stand in the room over, watching Yondril tend to those he can you ponder your decision, dawn was mere hours away. And as day broke it was likely the others would find their fallen comrades or that Tano had been captured and the slaves set free, setting the camp immediately on high alert for when Dontos arrived and putting you in more immediate danger. The walls would come down easier, but someone might escape, Aeror was ready to flee as it was and the counter attack would hurt. Then their was the option of a sneak attack at night, you had half the men, and yours were unmounted. You could steal their horses and gain an advantage, but green troops against veterans, even in an ambush was dangerous. And there was a real chance your men could be overwhelmed in the chaos. Without Dontos’ relief in another couple of hours, you could be captured, forcing Dontos to stand down or worse, die.

You pinch the bridge of your nose, Mason comes over to you, placing his hand on your shoulder, “We need to make a call now Brynden.”

>Wait for Dontos to arrive
>Sneak attack now
>Custom

>Any further questions for Emmett and Harys?

Allowing discussion and open to custom plans on this one. It’s a big decision.

>>47235104
>Wait for Dontos
and
>Herd the saved smallfolk through the escape tunnel if it is possible away from battle

Otherwise just act like nothing is happening and when Dontos is here with army, backstab the sellswords and open the gate.

>>47235104
Are there any walls between the camps? Places to put archers that are hard to reach from the merc camp? If not could they build barricades quickly?

>>47235104
So there were no other captains? Thought there'd be another slaver working from the inside of the house Dargood. Sorry won't be able to last the entire thread Father glad this is back.

>reading the archives
>you actually pulled the 20 good men
You fags are absolute madmen. Completely worth it.

>>47235184
Best part was that we realized after combat was solved that we did pull 20 Good Men.

Absolute mad men we are.

>>47235159
Just the walls that surround the entire area. The back wall is closest to the sellsword camps.

And no, building anything right now would not only take too long, but would draw attention.

>>47235167
There is one more captain actually, good catch. He leads the footed sellswords while Aeror leads the mounted men. His name is Belidos. Not hard to find him. Likes the front lines.

>>47235104

If I am to assume that Dargoods men hold the walls, we could bluff the mercenary host into surrendering.

The Mercenary host wouldn't be able to verify the strength of Malroy forces and with half the camp turned against him it would be a simple affair to convince the sellsword that this fight isn't worth it.

We would need to wait for Dontos to Arrive and communicate with him the plan of attack.

My plan is hopefully get the mercenary captain to Capitulate. Then, since heads are going to roll for slavery and the Crown is going to go for blood on the issue use the Dargood men and the Captain for evidence against Redwood and the False Malroy in essos (I forget his name).

I want the merc captain alive to use as a trading and bargaining chip in case the crown is bloodthirsty and wants more victims in its pursuit of justice.

We try to save the Dargood men and have house Dargood bound to us. In return, they become our allies and maybe even convince them to adopt Victus as heir since they no longer have one. House Dargood would continue in name, and Victus would get his own house (Maybe Victus can marry a cousin of the Dargoods and therefore lessen the sting of the Dargoods loosing their line).

The opening act of fighting could be just ordering mass volley or two at unprotected backs of sellswords. Complete surprise to knock few out and make chaos.
In addition we could ask the two Darqood captains to lend us Darqood uniforms to blend in.

>>47235104
>Wait for Dontos to arrive

On mobile so no discussion from me.

>>47235104
>Wait for Dontos to arrive

>>47235104
>Wait for Dontos to arrive

Then let the the archers on the walls open the gates. That is if we can get word out to Dontos

>>47235104
>Wait for Dontos
>Hide what evidence we can to delay them
>Attempt to convince Harys to send word to Aeror that Malroy's forces have them surrounded and a messenger was sent to have them parlay and that the first of their demands is to set the slaves free

>>47235275
Point to remember. Varys at the moment told you to keep the slavery ring under wraps. The moment the Crown sticks their nose in it, is the moment you start to lose power in the situation.

>>47235286
You could do the uniform part, blend in with the chaos. Not a bad idea.

>>47235309
Could definitely do this. Emmett and Harys would both agree. Though they'd both end up surrendering immediately, rather than the latter helping you.

>>47235156
Can definitely do this as well. You'd need to send Tano Osten and a guard or two to help lead them, but it would work and would keep the smallfolk as safe as possible.

Alright. I don't see a lot of dissent, and not a lot of support behind ideas otherwise, seems like we want to wait for Dontos while doing a few small things to keep people safe and blend in. It's a dangerous thing regardless but having Dontos help will make the fight much easier.

So subvotes, which I imagine will all lean one way, but for the sake of it:

Uniforms?
>Request Dargood uniforms to blend in
>Do not

Smallfolk
>Have a guard or two and Tano Osten lead the smallfolk out to safety
>Do not

Dargood Forces:
>Have Harys and Emmett open the gates for Dontos and surrender immediately
>Allow Emmett and his men to flee the field, while Harys' men fight alongside your own

>>47235500
>>Request Dargood uniforms to blend in


>Smallfolk
>>Have a guard or two and Tano Osten lead the smallfolk out to safety


>Dargood Forces:
>>Have Harys and Emmett open the gates for Dontos and surrender immediately

>>47235500
>Request Dargood uniforms to blend in

>Have a guard or two and Tano Osten lead the smallfolk out to safety

>Have Harys and Emmett open the gates for Dontos and surrender immediately

>>47235542
Seconding Sleepy, but add two of your own to make sure that Osten stays there and doesn't try to get away.

>>47235500
>Request Dargood uniforms to blend in
>Do not
>Allow Emmett and his men to flee the field, while Harys' men fight alongside your own
Just tell Emmett we might come around to ask him to testify before the crown when the time comes

>>47235500
>>Request Dargood uniforms to blend in
>Have a guard or two and Tano Osten lead the smallfolk out to safety
>Have Harys and Emmett open the gates for Dontos and surrender immediately

How much glory do we get?
If we defeated four units outnumberd 20 to one we get eight fucking glory from this victory. That's enough to make the second sons personal guard/promote a trained unit to elite

>>47235500
>>Request Dargood uniforms to blend in
>>Have a guard or two and Tano Osten lead the smallfolk out to safety.
Have Mason or one of the Sons accompany the guards, someone with some measure of authority that can explain why they are leading two hundred or so odd people out of a derelict fort
>Have Harys and Emmett open the gates for Dontos and surrender immediately

>>47235638
I do Glory differently. Sorry to say it doesn't quite work that way here.

>>47235500
>Request Dargood uniforms to blend in

>Have a guard or two and Tano Osten lead the smallfolk out to safety
Make it 4

>Have Harys and Emmett open the gates for Dontos and surrender immediately

>>47235500
>Have Harys and Emmett open the gates for Dontos and surrender immediately
>Request Dargood uniforms to blend in

>>47235671
Second sending Mason or one of the other Sons along with the slaves.

>>47235500
>>Request Dargood uniforms to blend in
>>Have Mason and two guards lead Tano Osten and the smallfolk out to safety

>>47235578
>>47235671
>>47235675
>>47235799
While I agree sending Mason and doubling up the guards is a good idea, remember we have two hudred something pairs of eyes and ears who are none too pleased by being enslaved by Osten. I doubt they'd want to see the pig flee before being served up to the Crown

>>47236023

You are right better keep it close at hand.

“It’s suicidal to attack now Mason,” you say after a long moment, “The captives would be in danger. We’re outnumbered and unhorsed. Not to mention, if you died, if I died. I don’t know if I can ask the Sons or the Dargood forces to sacrifice when forces are on the way.”

Mason stands quiet, watching the captives, Harkon and Marqus had found some water and stale bread, enough to get them moving. Some of the children looked to be thin as paper, slaves were usually treated better, needed to look strong for purchase. It was a sickening display of human depravity. Your old friend sighs, “You’ve the right of it. I just… I worry for them.”

“That’s why I need you to protect them Mason.”

Mason looks to you for half a moment before realizing what you actually mean, “Brynden. I can’t. My place is by your side. Send them with Yanno or Yondril.”

“Mason. I’m sending you alongside them. You’re the only one here I trust enough. That’s an order.”

The Knight grits his teeth, “Where to?”

“To the west, meet up with Dontos’ forces. Let him know what’s going on. I am certain he will be wroth with me, but it will help save innocent lives. Take Tano with you, if he gives you any troubles. Feel free to break a couple fingers. Take Victor too, he’s done for today.”

Mason nods, even in his body language you could feel how uncomfortable he was with the situation. He swallows hard and looks to you, hands placed upon his hips, “Don’t die out there, ya? I need a best man for my wedding.”

You scoff, clapping your hand upon his shoulder, “Yes Ser.”

---

Emmett and Harys leave off to gather spare uniforms around the same time Mason has managed to organize the captives and start escorting them through the crypts. Victor looks just as displeased with the situation though hardly complains as the young woman that had been helping him with his leg aids in his walking now. Tano Osten waddles in front with Mason’s dirk placed firmly upon the small of his back. He waves a final time as he disappears into the darkness. Harkon and Yanno begin to put out the torches lighting the area, Yondril, Vyror and Alester hiding what bodies they could find. The last moments of glimmering emerald allows you to finally read the name of those stored in this crypt. Thorne. Small wonder they hated you so.

Harys and a few of his men arrive the moment you arrive at the entrance to the crypts. Bit of a tight fit in the chest. Always was. Doing a quick head count you see the Sons are doing about as well as they can. No dead, only minor injuries, including the one on your drawing arm. The stinging pain reminding you of the joy you’d experience later in getting it redressed and cleansed. Snapping a quick nod off to Harys you follow after and emerge from the crypt. The moon is low, the slight colors of morning beginning to swirl in the sky. Few more hours. Sneaking through the shadows again you begin to see the brief morning stirrings of camp. More camp followers than actual armed men, it worried you. A single body would set the entire camp off. You trust the Sons to have done as clean a job as possible, but all the same.

Arriving in the Dargood camp you’re greeted with more woken eyes than you had expected, word had gotten around already. The greybeards and green boys alike looked at you with fear. Harys leads you and the Sons to his command tent, enough room to house the seventeen of you. Water and salted beef is offered, some take others deny. You chew hard on the stick as eyes peer from the tent flaps. Waiting for morning to come.

---

“Milord, we’re being called to our posts,” Harys says while bursting through the tent flaps half out of breath, “Someting spooked Aeror. He’s getting the men ready to march.”

“Suppose we couldn’t hope they’d notice twenty some odd men missing for too long,” Alester says, “Sons are ready when you are boss.”

“You know what to do Harys.”

“Aye milord. Wave the flag, surrender. We know.”

Waving Harys off you peak through the tent flaps and see a cadre of sellswords on the approach from the main camp. The Dargood forces are scattering to the wind, heading towards their positions on the walls. Eyes glance to the sky, red in the morning, sailors warning. You scoff. Then hear the sound. A bullhorn, the call to war. Dontos was in sight. The cadre of men stop and look back to the main camp that has gone into an uproar. You’ve a moment to go, perhaps cause your planned distraction. For a moment a smile dances upon your lips.

>Using the chaos as cover make a break for their stables and steal their horses for your own
>Make a mad dash for the gate, instantly linking up with Dontos forces

>>47236243
>Using the chaos as cover make a break for their stables and steal their horses for your own

>>47236243
>>Using the chaos as cover make a break for their stables and steal their horses for your own

Rolled 2 (1d2)

>>47236243
>1 Chaos
>2 Dash

>>47236243
>Using the chaos as cover make a break for their stables and steal their horses for your own

>>47236243
>Using the chaos as cover make a break for their stables and steal their horses for your own

4chan break for anyone else for a few minutes?

>>47236705

not for me

Eye glance about, the camps had become a madhouse. In the distance you see a handful of men screaming and yelling at the sellswords. The bullhorns go off again and in the distance, you catch a response. The low rumbling of multiple horns of war fills your ears. Dontos’ forces echoed the pitying call to arms that the Bright Banners were attempting and for a brief moment, you could taste fear. The song is long, a single note carried about the forest, echoing in the forgotten hall, echoing in the ears of those who suddenly very aware of what was coming their way. They stood silent, motionless. Eyes trained to where their ears told them the sound had come.

Your fist was raised in the air, the Sons of Gold flanked you on both sides. The sound had provided enough distraction for you to sneak up through the Dargood camp and plant yourselves in a firing line before the cadre of men from the main camp. They would not be missed. Your arm falls the snap of sixteen bowstrings at once filling your ears for the briefest of moments. They hadn’t seen you coming, only one managed to lay eyes upon you for a moment long enough to realize what had happened. His eyes wide with fear his mouth attempting to form words before the arrow caught his throat and his body fell to the ground.

Flashing looks to either side you get nods for confirmed kills, a quick wave and your men form up behind your mad dash towards the stables. No particular need for stealth now, the camps had fallen to disarray again, those few that still held command found it fleeting and failing as Dontos’ horns only swelled as they drew nearer. The Sons scatter when they meet the edges of the mercenary camp, dashing through the mess of men, tents and steel with wild abandon.

You found yourself alone for a moment, quickly bouncing between the nonsensical pathways, rolling off of those you ran into and pushing through the crowds of the few assembled men. They hardly gave you a look. Oh how Dontos would rage if he had known. For the better though, your arrows were the dead give away, enough to last the night. Enough to last the day. Black on black, silent, deadly. Breaking through the camp you take a short moment to gather yourself and track down the stables. Along the back wall, by the Hall, Harys’ words were. The braying of the horses, the yells of men, that took you to where you needed to be.

You link up with Yanno, Yondril and Reddyar Harmith, joining in their stride as they had pinpointed your destination as well. Bows fall off shoulders, arrows notching loosely as you ran. The horses were going wild, bucking their riders and chopping at anyone that drew near. Poorly trained, likely not warhorses. You’ve managed worse. The others have joined you now, what a sight you were, sixteen men dressed in ill fit Dargood uniforms, bows drawn and ready as you all took up position. Some had noticed you, yelling at you to get back upon the wall. That deserters would be hung. You could only smile, a playful thing that danced about your lips.

The bullhorn stops. A ringing in your ear the only sound as an otherwise deafening silence looms over the camp.

Ready.

The riders finally realize they are surrounded. Steel is drawn as suspicion gives rise to doubt. You are not Dargood men.

Aim.

A distance thump, two, three. The whistling of something hurled through the sky interrupts the quiet. Screams meeting it in turn. Your smile dances to the song.

Fire.

>Roll 6d6+1 for Marksmanship.

Rolled 6, 4, 5, 5, 3, 1 + 1 = 25 (6d6 + 1)

>>47236955

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

>>47236955

Rolled 3, 3, 5, 3, 4, 3 + 1 = 22 (6d6 + 1)

>>47236955

>>47236976
>>47236981
>>47236997
24,16,19

Hasn't lost a step.

>>47237006

Goddamn right

>>47237006
Like shooting fish in a barrel

>>47237145
Which is actually harder than one would think.

>>47237182
Actually hitting them, yes. Killing them? A lot less so.

>>47237197
Depends a lot on cartridge and shot used. One that transfers a loy of energy deep in the water would be best.
.

Success, three degrees.

The moment feels long, the arrow flying from your bow just the same moment one of the men begins to yell in scream in Myrish. A few caught words, shit, piss, fuck. Normal. The ground rocks, the chorus of screams reaching their peak as the boulders roll through the camp. The man continues to scream and yell, attempting to force the reigns free, his horse fighting him every step. Your arrow streaks through the air, catching him in the back of the neck the very moment he turns from you, his body falling over in a thump. The Sons’ arrows follow not soon after, catching their various targets as chaos truly takes hold in the camps behind you. Few more minutes and another volley of boulders will come, then they’ll invade the camp. The cavalry first, the footed men soon after. You had a few moments to capitalize on the hell that had broken loose in here.

You march towards the horses, calm, collected even as hell raged around you. Your men quick to dispatch anyone left over and covering your rear. Alester and Yanno find them by your sides as you enter the stables, “Cut those too wild to ride free. Gather up those worth riding. Let’s move.”

“Yes Brynden,” they respond in unison. Daggers at the ready, your eyes fall upon an old boy, black, but just as calm as you. His nostrils flaring as you approach his hoof stomping at the ground before him as he slightly tugs at his reigns.

“You’re a real horse aren’t you,” you whisper on your approach, hand outstretched for him to smell. His eyes narrow for a moment and he shakes his head giving you pause for a moment, “Easy there old boy. I’ve enough ornery old man nonsense from Goldsong. Let’s say you and I go for a ride. Last one, then you can retire for real. My stables got the best oats this side of the Narrow Sea. How’s that sound? Hm?”

The black warhorse bows his head, sniffing at your hand, enough time for pleasantries. Your hand glides up his face and pats the side, “A deal then. Let’s get you loose. YANNO! STATUS?”

“Ready my Lord!” he yells, herding a fair few horses out the stable, slapping more than a few on the arse as they break loose from their bounds and attempt to escape the war around them.

Luck for you the old boy had his saddle ready and you swing into it easily. Not the right feel you notice immediately, bit wider than the coursers. Destrier it was, not quite the same, built for battle but expensive, almost not worth it sometimes. But you could manage the old man. Spurs dig deep and he protests your lead before being forced towards the entrance of the stable. The other Sons had begun to filter in, swinging in the mixed bag of horses and following after your lead.

Your ears begin to fill with the rumbling from the skies again, this time the boulders were smaller, breaking apart into a hail of stone and death as they crashed into the camps below. The moment you emerge from the stable you see the pelting hailstorm assaulting the camps and scattering them to the winds. The moment is fleeting though as you break into a gallop, “Come on old boy. Show me what you got left.”

The archery skills Brynden has would make Robin Hood worry

The Sons follow after you at full gallop, bows at the ready as you circle the forgotten hall gathering momentum. The echo of fellow horses begins to collect in your ears, Ser Lucas Longwaters and Raymun Chelsted leading their own men and you intended to meet them there. A quick glance shows you the makeshift flag of purple and black flying in the air upon the wall, the Dargood forces giving up their arms in short order and surrendering with ease. Dontos and Mason would be there to deal with them. The clean up of the camp fell upon you. The camp comes into sight again as you round the broken hall, those few left attempting to form up and mount a counteroffensive against the eighty heavily cavalrymen racing towards them.

The camps were broken, men had begun to flee. But you had people to find, those to capture. Belidos in the ground camp if he still yet lived. And the main prize, Aeror in what was left of the forgotten hall.

>Go after Belidos in the ground camp
>Go after Aeror in the hall’s camp

>Roll 7d6+1 for Marksmanship.

God are catapults strong in this game.

Rolled 2, 6, 5, 3, 6, 6, 5 + 1 = 34 (7d6 + 1)

>>47237487
>Go after Aeror in the hall’s camp

Rolled 1, 2, 3, 2, 2, 4, 1 + 1 = 16 (7d6 + 1)

>>47237487
>Go after Aeror in the hall’s camp

Rolled 2, 5, 2, 6, 3, 4, 5 = 27 (7d6)

>>47237487

Murderings a foot

Rolled 3, 4, 3, 1, 4, 5, 3 + 1 = 24 (7d6 + 1)

>>47237487

Rolled 6, 3, 1, 6, 5, 3, 5 + 1 = 30 (7d6 + 1)

>>47237487
>>Go after Aeror in the hall’s camp

>>47237487
>get Aeror

>>47237515
>>47237524
>>47237534
29,14,23

Going to use all three. That range is hysterical.

>>47237515
34 is good right?

Rolled 4, 1, 5, 5, 5, 1, 4 + 1 = 26 (7d6 + 1)

>>47237487
>Go after Aeror

>>47237603
Bit late there mate

This is going to be quite the tale for the children

Target 1: Success. four degrees.
Target 2: Success, two degrees.
Target 3: Success, four degrees.

Aeror, you needed him. If he escaped it was all for nought. You wouldn’t allow him the chance. Pressing into the old boy you lean into your turn, dashing straight through the ground camp just prior to Lucas’ cavalry running through them. Two by twos follow you into the minefield it had become, haphazard stones sat about, bodies and broken steel, tents half erected half in flames. Eyes cast about the battlefield, most of the men had gathered on the borders of the camp, those few left to make a line against the stampeding death that followed after you. Though few remained when one did you found yourself plunking an arrow into his head the moment it reared. The first was hardly a task, as he emerged from a tent unlikely his own, covered in ill gotten gold and silver. Your arrow had found its place in his head, his body crashed backwards into the tent.

Behind you can hear the sudden crash of Lucas’ men into the sellswords, their screams and yells far outweighing those that lived. You cast an eye back for just a moment allowing the old boy to lead himself. Lucas and Jon Pryor are rounding before the rest of their command, a man without a shirt and more beard than sense is screaming at them with a hooked spear in one hand, the other with a sickle. Eyes turn back to your task at hand at just the right moment, Alester’s call bringing you back to reality. As you approached the worn stairs that lead into the hall’s remains a man took a leap of faith at you, his daggers in outstretched arms, mouth filled with violent word. You respond as quickly as possible. Ready. Aim. Fire. Quick unforgotten movements and your arrow catches his shoulder, one of the daggers falling to the ground though his momentum continues and he crashes into you.

The dagger misses you but draws deep into the old horse, his weight causing it to cut down his torso. The horse nearly falls to the wayside, the sudden impact, weight and pain causing him to stumble. Your boot lashes into the man’s side as he clings desperately to the side of your horse, scrambling for purchase whether it being the saddle or your person hardly mattered. Finally a well placed punch to the nose causes him to drop and bounce off the ground below. The dagger sticks in the destier’s side, bloody running crimson down his torso as you continue to press forward. Few more steps old boy, then you get your rest.

The hall is mostly ruined stone though as you enter the camp you find it largely abandoned outside of the cadre of men guarding the entrance to the small wooden shack that you guess Aeror occupied. You knock off another arrow catching the unsuspecting man in the side of the head and causing the lot of them to suddenly turn with steel drawn, others from the shadows joining them. The Sons begin to fire off their own arrows, and you notice one of the men bang on the door and yell something in a tongue you did not immediately recognize. But at a guess it was a warning for Aeror to run.

You duck as a spear flies over head and you can hear the ragged breathing of the old horse, his knees had begun to get weak as he pushed on. You pat him on the side of the neck, “Sorry old fella. I can run the distance, you take a rest,” you whisper and then suddenly roll off the side of the horse into a neat roll regaining your footing and breaking into a mad dash with smooth ease. Your hand loosens your blade as you run towards the door, the Sons taking it upon themselves to clear your way by the time you reach it. Blade finds purpose in hand and bow hangs loosely over your shoulder, the only obstacle left in your way faltering as the thing dug into his neck and into the door behind him with a single motion that sent you crashing into the door, knocking it over.

>>47237559
So we somehow hit a guy in both his eyeballs with one arrow, hit another guy in the head, and finally hit a guy in his toe?

A quick glance about and you suddenly realize there was no escape route. There wasn’t anything but a man with foam upon his lips convulsing on the floor before you. His eyes look about the room frantically before falling upon you, his hand rising in a rather rude gesture and his mouth curls into a smile. You scramble towards him on hands and knees, hand grabbing at his neck but slipping from the slick left from the floor. Poison, the same kind that the imposter had used on Mason. His lover as she said it. There was never an escape route, not in truth. This was it. Your eyes look about the room, a moment too late. Your knees and hands are covered in a slick oil, the room doused in haphazard lamp oil.

Your eyes race up his other outstretched arm, just as his finger pulls the trigger of the crossbow, launching into a small clay pot. Your eyes widen and then... Fire. Emerald, burning death erupts through the room. And for once your eyes aren’t the only thing that feels like it is engulfed in flame.

>Roll 5d6 for Quickness.

Rolled 6, 2, 2, 4, 3 = 17 (5d6)

>>47238147
>47238147

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

>>47238147

>>47238147

Rolled 1, 3, 1, 1, 6 = 12 (5d6)

>>47238147

Rolling

>>47238162
>>47238167
>>47238183
15, 9, 11

Good job there 15 Anon.

>>47238203
We're not burning to death just yet.

>Aeror going full allah snackbar on us

Jesus Christ.

>On the last roll of the fight brynden dies

Shit, and here I though we could rebuild the fort for less than a new construction would cost.

>>47238203
Oh fucking Seven.

Quickness: Success, one degree.

-[Fifteen Years Ago]-

“Brynden Malroy you get your fingers away from those candles this instant!” your mother snaps, lashing her fan at the back of your hand, “The Sept is no place to play.”

Donold and Pastorn snicker as you rub the back of your hand the lash had hurt more than the fire had. They didn’t believe you, quit pretending you’re a dragon they said. Only Isis agreed with you, you had made a game of it. See who could put out the most candles during mass. She giggles on the other side of father as she quickly puts out three before innocently resuming her prayers.

You weren’t a dragon, you knew that. But that doesn’t mean the same blood didn’t flow through your veins of Old Valyria as did the Targaryens. It was only fire. You fold your hands again, looking up towards the Warrior, “Please Warrior. I want to be strong.”

-[Present Day]-

You could scream, flame engulfed the entire room, it spread up your arm at an alarming pace, your legs covered in it just the same. Aeror’s body goes up in flame just as quickly, his screams ringing in your ear as you press yourself off him. There wasn’t any saving of him, the papers on the desk under the clay pot were mostly in tatters, charred black mess by the time your notice them. It wasn’t worth it. Your legs suddenly feel worthless, weak. The sudden day and half of weariness catching you in the emerald inferno.

The yells and screams of the Sons fill your ears, Alester and Reddyar appear at the door. Covering their faces with their arms and screaming for you, the smoke filling the room nearly suffocating them. Every step towards them felt like hell, your lungs filled with smoke and head grew light, the buckles of poor equipment begin to falter, pieces of armor falling to the wayside as you press on to the door. You slip, ankle feels like it has twisted wrong, every pain from the day rears at once. Your arm, legs, face. All.

Your vision begins to fog, your breath ragged and incomplete.

“Warrior preserve me…” you think and lunge for the door just as things began to go dark.

---

You felt them hefting you out, the ripping and stomping of the fire still upon you. Their yells and calls for help as they pull you from the hall, the flame beginning to spread throughout the rest of the old forgotten thing. Your heartbeat is the only thing that reminds you are alive. Lucas’ arms are strong as he helps to collect you and race your body towards the rest of the army. The world spins, the smell of smoke filling your nostrils and you fall asleep.

---

“He’s lucky to have only the minor burns,” you hear a voice, unfamiliar, “The helmet saved the majority of his head. His cheek was the worst of it.”

“Will he recover?” Dontos’ voice.

“Yes my lord,” the unfamiliar voice responds, “It’s a miracle he wasn’t burnt more. I... I can’t say I understand how it happened he was so lucky.”

“We’re Malroys, Maester Waynard. It’s in the blood. Thank you.”

---

“We got Belidos and Tano locked up Mason. On their way to Steadhold as we speak, Yondril seemed… Eager,” Lucas’ voice, “Aeror is a lost cause, flame brought down what was left of the hall. Old stones couldn’t handle it.”

“It’ll have to do Lucas,” Masons’ voice responds with a sigh, “News from Wesley and Lord Qorgyle?”

“Quentyn has secured the Goldroad as far west as he can, House Chelsted’s forces matched him, clear as day now. Wesley finished his sweep of the forest, was able to pull out the leftovers, sending them to Steadhold to work the chain gangs, then the Wall or the noose.”

“Good. Thank you Ser Lucas.”

“Any news with Brynden?”

“He’s in and out of consciousness. Occasionally he’ll move a bit, the Maester is quick to put him back under... Days it's for the best, I'm... I'm not sure,” they are silent for a moment.

“He’ll live Mason. He’s got too much here worth living for.”

---

You awaken to the rumbling of a carriage, your hand feels light and painful, bright eyes look at you and suddenly burst into tears, “FATHER! YOU’RE AWAKE!” Victus wraps his arms around your body, tears pouring from his eyes so much so you can feel it on your chest.

Your voice aches as you speak, “Victus… Water, please.”

Your son composes himself enough to push off and feed a skin to your lips, “They said you’d be thirsty,” he says through a sniffle, “Oh and not to touch the bandage.”

Fingers had graced the spot before your son could speak and you cringe from the pain.

“They said you were lucky to only have that burn father… Ser Dontos joked you looked better with the shorter hair too.”

You feel the base of your neck and notice a significant lack of braid, your hair left short, bristling against your touch, there was still a tuft upon your head, but the length had gone as had most of the beard. Allowing your weight to pull you back as comfortable as you could in the little cot you stare out the end of the carriage, noticed the train following after, “Where are we going Victus?”

“Home. Steadhold.”

Battle Results:

House Malroy and Chelsted Total Victory
>2 Green Archers captures (House Dargood)
>Bright Banners destroyed
>~70 men captured
>Captain Aeror “Battlestar” dead
>Captain Belidos captured
>Captain Tano Osten AKA“Ser Issac Dargood” captured
>Princewood captured, Steadhold Domain III & 15 Lands added
>Forgotten Hall Destroyed

Rolls required:

>-1d6 to Law
>+1d6-1 to Population
>+1d6-1 to Wealth

Please roll 3d6, will take the best of three for each respective resource.

For those curious capturing Belidos or Aeror was dependent upon your choice of attack. The sneak attack would have netted you Aeror, which is obviously the bigger prize but a lot more risk. Either way, Tano was the important prize.

Rolled 2, 6, 2 = 10 (3d6)

>>47238929

Rolled 6, 1, 3 = 10 (3d6)

>>47238929

Rolled 5, 1, 2 = 8 (3d6)

>>47238929

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

>>47238929

Rolled 4, 2, 5 = 11 (3d6)

>>47238929
Please tell me we don't look hideous, and that the burns will go away.

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

>>47238929

>>47238957
>>47238982
>>47238992

Law: -6
Population: +5
Wealth: +2

As expected of a conquest. Sorry about the short delay had to handle something.

Alright, I'm going to do Month IV's House Fortunes right now while we're at it so:

>Roll 8d6 for House Fortunes please.

>>47238999
well we're not the Hound if that's what you're asking

>>47238999
Minor burns. It'll heal, we'll probably only have light scarring. The true tragedy is the loss of the van dyke. Our lady wife will be so disappointed

Rolled 1, 4, 3, 4, 5, 5, 3, 2 = 27 (8d6)

>>47239041

Rolling

Rolled 6, 6, 2, 2, 2, 3, 3, 4 = 28 (8d6)

>>47239041

Rolled 4, 2, 2, 1, 6, 1, 3, 4 = 23 (8d6)

>>47239041
Rowling

Rolled 6, 1, 6, 4, 4, 3, 6, 1 = 31 (8d6)

>>47239041
Do your players know we pulled a 20 good men?

Rolled 5, 1, 2, 4, 3, 6, 5, 6 = 32 (8d6)

>>47239048
Actually our wife said she hated the beard.

>>47239041

Rolled 3, 5, 3, 6, 1, 3, 1, 2 = 24 (8d6)

>>47239041

Rolled 2, 6, 2, 3, 5, 2, 2, 5 = 27 (8d6)

>>47239041

>>47239072
That's the joke

>>47239071

No shit.

We Blessing now.

>>47239054
>>47239063
>>47239069

28 is a Boon. You... Sons of Bitches. Rolling in resources this month.

That is a 1d6 to 2 resources or a 1d3 to 3.

I'll remind, things you need:

Defense, for the Bridge and Blackbridge Tower.
Power, 20 to land Mason.
Lands, 8 for the Roads in Crackclaw Point
Wealth, Crackclaw Point and various other projects.

>>47238999
It's a minor burn, easily covered up by your facial hair. Your passive endurance against fire really saved your ass on that one as did the Quickness test.

>>47239132
Law and Lands

>>47239132
defense and Land

>>47239132
Law and Lands

>>47239100
I obviously meant the ones that play with him IRL
>>47239132
Power and Lands.

>>47239132

Wealth and Lands.

>>47239163
>I obviously meant the ones that play with him IRL

Forgot about them.

My mistake.

>>47239132
Power and Land

>>47239132
Lands, defense, wealth

We NEED one of them to be wealth, our bonuses to Wealth rolls are too high to pass up

>>47239132
Wealth porfavor

Alright Lands are a super obvious lock.

Not too surprised, looks like we'll do a vote:

Lands and ???
>Power
>Defense
>Law
>Wealth

>>47239228
>>Law

>>47239228
>Wealth
I almost forgot our wealth bonus

>>47239228
Wealth

Remember to tell the wife how we killed five guys with one arrow

>>47239228
>Wealth

>>47239228
>>Power
>>Wealth

>>47239228
>>Law

>>47239228
>Wealth

>>47239228
>Defense

>>47239228
>Wealth

Kind of figured that would lean towards Wealth. God is that bonus ridiculous.

So. Let's roll for Lands first, best of three as always. If we get a perfect roll you'll have enough to purchase te roads in Crackclaw Point.

>Roll 1d6 for Lands please.

Rolled 1 (1d6)

>>47239307

Rolled 3 (1d6)

>>47239307

Rolled 4 (1d6)

>>47239307

>>47239316
>>47239318
>>47239320
+4 then, close but no cigar.

And next up Wealth. Best of three.

>Please roll 2d6 for Wealth please.

Rolled 3, 5 = 8 (2d6)

>>47239336

Rolled 5, 1 = 6 (2d6)

>>47239336

Rolled 3, 4 = 7 (2d6)

>>47239336

Rolled 3, 4 = 7 (2d6)

>>47239336

Rolled 1, 6 = 7 (2d6)

>>47239336
Rawl

Rolled 1, 4 = 5 (2d6)

>>47239336

Rolled 6, 4 = 10 (2d6)

>>47239336

Rolled 4, 2 = 6 (2d6)

>>47239336
Double 6

>>47239338
>>47239343
>>47239345
And that's a ten wealth. Convert what wealth we need into lands to buy the roads, then the rest for defense

>>47239379
Nine technically, -1to pay toward the debt, but yeah otherwise I'm on board

>>47239338
>>47239343
>>47239345

And +8 to Wealth it is.

So, end of the month spendable resources.

Defense: 0
Lands: 6
Power: 2
Wealth: 9 (-1 taken out for Debt as always)

Not a lot to do with those sorts of numbers this month, nothing that falls under any sort of plan as of right now. Unless you guys want to move around some resources, which you're free to as always.

Items of note, Law fell to 42, not enough to knock you down to the next bonus tier. But fall below 41 and you'll have a -1 to House Fortunes.

Population is now 30. 1 more and you'll get a +3 to House Fortunes, which is the sweet spot for Population.

Um... Not much else to see here. Unless we have a desire to reallocated resources are make a minor purchase that gets some support we'll just move along.

>>47239436
Just keep moving along fampai.

>>47239436
Wealth into lands

File: ConversionTable.png (19 KB, 361x214)

19 KB PNG

>>47239436
Oh and for those who want to look at the conversion table.

>>47239466
Glory point when?

>>47239436
1 lands
1pop

>>47239436
Wealth into the lands we need to buy those roads

>>47239436
4 wealth into lands, buy road, two wealth into pop to buy one more. Save the rest

>>47239451
>>47239498
>>47239504

In order to purchase 2 Lands, you will need to spend 4 Wealth. So votes we shall do.

4 Wealth:2 Lands
>Yay
>Neigh

And just because Population is a good idea, I'll allow that as a vote as well:

2 Wealth:1 Population
>Yay
>Neigh

>>47239547
YAY AND YAY

>>47239547
Yay
Yay

>>47239547
>Yay

>Yay

>>47239547
Yay
Yay

>>47239547
>Yay
>Yay

>>47239547
>Yay
>Yay

>>47239547
Yay and Yay

An overwhelming display of support. I'm not surprised in the least.

Roads started. And Population to a sweet 31 with a +3 House Fortunes mod. That bumps up your overall bonus to 20, and as promised if you guys broke 18, a +4d6 bonus now. Good shit.

Gotta say, House Malroy is built like a powerhouse now. She's hurting a little from the upheaval of war, but overall got much stronger. Once the trade deals start to run out, you'll drop off a little, but by that time I genuinely don't think it'll matter.

SO, with that all said. Looks like we're ready to move on. To something everyone has been looking forward to for awhile. Birth.

>>47239669
OH FUCK YEAH

>>47239669
I hope Brynden at least gets to hold his child.

>>47239669
>YOU DID THIS TO ME!

>>47239669
Pls have our hair

File: hop happy fox.gif (2 MB, 500x260)

2 MB GIF

>>47239669

>>47239719
Think father told us that it will look like its mother

Some other small notes before I forget.

>Artisan Craftsmen (Architect)
Completed, Edgar Poe is now waiting in Steadhold. He knocked off 20% of the time to all ongoing projects.

>Artisan Craftsman (Mastersmith)
Completed. Master Yarson is waiting for you in Steadhold. You are now able to purchase an upgrade to all melee units weapons, raising them from common to superior for 1 Wealth and granting a +1 Damage.

>Sept
Completed. As requested, has some dornish flare. Obella loves it.

We'll meet the former two next thread, and get some small action for the Sept as we go on.

>>47239762
Well, seems im not sleeping tonight. Hey father, nice to see you back in action.

>>47239762
>and get some small action for the Sept as we go on.
Oh boy I knew he would bring us trouble

>>47239762
So that it dad? Or ya workin on the next post?

>>47239762
Dornish water garden when?

>>47239795
Sept is the building. Not the priest

>>47239816
We have a river, just throw children into that. It's not like they'll drown or anything.

>>47239816
>being a Pedo

>>47239892
Where do you think we are?

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>>47239892
>>47239844
The fuck are you on about ?

>>47239944
Why bother with a water garden when you have a river? It's not like we live in the middle of a desert.

>>47239969
Its nice, relaxing, exotic and the wife would probably love it.

>>47239990
So are the violet plains.

>>47239990
However it gets much colder in Steadhold than anywhere in Dorne.
A water garden may not be a useful expense.

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>>47239762
>mastersmith
Mmm gurl brazen horse time.

>>47240033
>much colder in Steadhold than anywhere in Dorne.
How much colder?

>>47240048
Brazen horse is a good idea if we really want to freak people out. They'll be comparing Malroy to the Mad King.

>>47240075
Well considering Dorne is a desert region and we are located in the Crownlands I'd imagine it would be considerable colder but it's not like we are in the North.
I could be wrong though and it might be temperate enough to have a water garden.

>>47239944
>>47240048

We could use a brazen-horse boiler to heat the water for our water garden?

>>47240163
That's not a half-bad solution.

>>47240084
>>47240163
We are using that thing on redfuck after we do unspeakable things to him over a couple of years

>>47240048
>>47240084

I just get the feeling we'll end up with someone else thrown inside it, or ourselves.


Fuck using the horse for exicution, just heat up some bronze plates and afix them in rapid succession with nails.

>>47240204
Just tie him to a target and do archery practice if you do it right its long and pretty painful

>>47240202
>>47240204
We could always draw-and-quarter him using Malroy horses for a bit of poetry.

>>47240202
Reminder that Isis moans like a whore when he mounts her.

>>47240252
So would you if the one mounting you was such an irredeemable bastard.
Freindly reminder we have stolen Isis from him to a place he can't touch.

-[A Few Weeks Later]-

Things had settled in the weeks that had followed the Invasion of the Princewood. The Loyal Bows, Prince’s Resistance and Wesley’s men had stated there to help maintain order and suss out the last of the bandits. Victor Haigh has been walking again, albeit with a crutch but all the same, in no small part of Maester Benjin’s replacement, Apprentice Ashby, boy didn’t talk much, but he knew his needle work. Smart lad with most of his links, likely he’d head off for a proper assignment after he had finished up in Steadhold. Told you he had been from a House in the Vale, but that life was behind him and you hadn’t quite figured out which as of yet. His treatment of the burn on your check had done wonders for the pain as well. Obella had yet to stop fretted over it, not the worst you had received in truth, the pain in your arm still panged any time you used it to block with a shield or draw your bow. Give it time she said, before falling to pieces in tears and then an angry rant about how you should have been more careful. You had learned to laugh these moments off, playing with her hair, never patronizing. Always being the husband, not the first time the voice in the back of your head spoke.

Dontos and Victus stayed a bit longer in Steadhold than you had expected, as had Ser Raymun Chelsted. He was a good hand, not the brightest though, after a bit too much drink he had admitted he thought you were a goner when they pulled you out half naked from the flame. It was good to see your son and you took every opportunity to spend time with him, having little else to do in the period of calm after the storm. More than once he spoke of his time with Aunty Isis, showing off the little gifts she had given to him behind your back, the conversations they had had. He missed her he would say, and requested to go to King’s Landing and meet her as soon as possible. Though the news you had gotten from there hadn’t granted you any peace, while your men were still afield attempting to put Septon Tytos and Saul Cromwell’s plan into action a letter had arrived from your sister. She had given birth, to two children. Daughters both she swore. Twins with red hair and your family’s eyes. She had named them Jessamine and Camelia. A mixed blessing, neither were true heirs of House Redward, but it meant Royce would redouble his efforts in retrieving your sister from King’s Landing. He wanted his heir. Her letter had ended with a simple statement, “Whatever it is you do Brynden. The girls, I want them. To be safe, to be happy. I despise what they were born of, but they do not deserve my hatred. Nor yours. They never asked for this. Love, Isis”

Mason hadn’t spoken to you as much after what had happened, you knew he had shouldered the blame upon himself. It wasn’t the first time he had done it, nor the last you imagined. Doubts haunted him, even if he hid it as well as he did. The scar upon your cheek a stark reminder of what he felt had been his failure. It took Illiad and yourself cornering him and drinking deep into the night to reopen dialogue.

He laughed when he recounted the story of Alester and Reddyar pulling you out of the Forgotten Hall, half naked, your hair still in embers, “Crazy Valyrian bastard. Owe me more than a tower in your backyard with all the shit I’ve put up with,” he said with a laugh. Not too far off from the mark you had to agree.

---

“Brynden? Please wake up Brynden, please,” sleep breaks from your eyes as Obella’s voice touches your ear between labored breath her arm across your chest, “Brynden, I think the baby is coming.”

The sprint out of the room had woken up nearly every guard on duty, Worsh and Oylver thought you had gone half mad before you had yelled at them to gather the mid-wives as he ran off towards Ashby’s quarters and shook him awake like a madman.

“Easy my Lady. Deep breaths. Now… Push,” Ashby says from the foot of the bed. Obella’s legs propped up around him. The mid-wives shuffled about as they did, not doing anything in particular from your point of view. Obella’s hand had found its way into your own, squeezing it for all it was worth. Any small comfort you could offer, you thought as the bones in your right hand likely broke. She screamed with belabored breath again as she pushed and pushed, deep into the night and into the morning. Light had begun to break by the time you heard the cry. The high pitched cry of a newborn, sleep had dissolved itself from your eyes in an instant as you perked up watching Ashby cradle the baby in his arms, dealing with the mess below as was expected of him.

“My congratulations my Lord and Lady. It’s a healthy baby girl.”

“A girl?” Obella asks with a joy in her eyes, as holding out her arms to cradle her against her breast, “She’s beautiful…”

>>47240402
>girl
That means we must impregnate her again.

The little thing latches on to her mother in short order, feeding as any healthy child should. A girl. Your baby girl. Sitting next to mother and child you help in cleaning her head, the soft bristle of dark hair rubbing against your hand, just like her mother. Her little eyes open just enough to regard you, pools of blue, like her mother. But you could see the Valyrian purple in there, they were lighter than her mother’s, how they would sparkle in the sun. Obella hands her to you and you cradle your child against your chest, just in absolute wonder of her, the way her hands would reach up for your face as you spoke to her. Truly she was the most beautiful thing you had seen in years.

“What should we name her Brynden? I like a few names, but you never did get back to me,” she says with a soft laugh from the bed, “Too busy at war.”

Obella’s suggestions:
>Lorelei
>Lealette
>Elia
>Emberlei
>Belandra
>Belenna

Don’t like any? Give me a suggestion.

>>47240418
Lia? For a subtle nod?

>>47240418
>>Elia
Surely nothing will go wrong with such name.

>>47240418

Leliana.

Always liked the name.

>>47240418
>Ella
>not wanting to become absolutely bro tier with Oberyn
>not wanting to watch the crown squirm

DO IT. DOOOOOO IT.

>>47240418
>>Lorelei

>>47240084
>Belenna

>>47240418
>Elia
what could possibly go wrong?

>>47240418
Lorelei. It's Obella's top suggestion, therefore her favourite. We owe her this after pulling crazy shit.

>>47240237
we aren't killing him quickly it's going to be long and drawn out and we're going to do things that will Ramsay snow grimace

>>47240418
>Elia

>>47240459
Tywin and Mountain did nothing wrong

>>47240418
Let Obella Decide.

>>47240418

Gonna switch from leliana >47240448

To Elia.

Solidify some Dornish ties.

>>47240418
>>Lorelei

Or jeyne

>>47240418
Don't be a retard guys

>Lorelei

>>47240497
Drawing and quartering would be the cherry on top of whatever else is done.

Rape and flay is the plan guys. Simple, effective, and poetic justice for his raping and scalping of our sister.

Oh names how fun you are to pick on /tg/. I think I'll do a final destination vote for this. Simple and clean.

Rules: In your post include only this quoted post and your decision of A or B. No greentexting, no other comments. Just that. This vote will last for five minutes on the dot. After that we'll call it and that's that.

Name?

A Lorelei
B Elia

>>47240418
Traditionally (in england, where this is based on historically) flower names were used for girls so.
Something along that vein would be appropriate. Maybe a name of a desert flower in dorne.

At least she will have a couple of cousins to play with

Lets have a feast as soon as we can in celebration

>>47240613
A

>>47240613
A

>>47240613
B

>>47240613
A

>>47240613
A

>>47240613
B

>>47240613
B

Just have Elia be the middle name.

Lorelei Elia Malroy

>>47240605
B

>>47240613
A

>>47240613
A

>>47240613
A

Everyone is having girls it seems

And calling it, let me tally this real quick like.

>>47240654
No because we're not suicidal

Brynden will have to roll a will check to not suffocate his nieces with a pillow ?

Did the destrier we rode made it out alive? I kinda want the old fucker have a friendly rivality with Goldsong.

>>47240737
He can be the sidekick horse in Untamed: A Sellsword's Tale

>>47240730

We are no child killer.

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>First born is a girl
>Mother is Dornish

Seven above

>>47240760
Demonspawns are not children

>>47240772
They are still the daughters of our sister.

Kill redfuck, let them live without a last name.

Isis wants to keep them, let her.

>>47240761
Now time to make a boy.
>fifth child is a boy all the others are girls

>>47240787
Isis is not keeping the kid, we already have had a consensus choice for a while now. If isis likes the spawn, it goes to the Sisters/Maesters/something or other. If not some random peasants

>>47240803
Fuck you nigger, she can keep her daughters.

With a vote of 7 to 4, Lorelei Malroy it is. Pretty name that. Hope we're all happy.

Probably didn't need to go to final destination there, just wanted it to be nice and clean cut there. Names are always a bitch.

SO. I planned on doing a proper end post, but I'm kind of short on time here. Had plans that I'm already late for. So we'll call it here.

[End Chapter XLI]

Sorry about that. Just wanted to get through the major stuff today since I took those few weeks off for things to settle.

Anyway, some news. Unforunately with the way my job has been lately, I'm not going to be able to run during the week anymore, or at least not very often. That means Thursday/Friday threads are going to be much rarer. Also means I'll likely be running either Saturday or Sunday from now on. I'm a really busy guy lately, and I don't want to give this up not with what is looming on the horizon. So unfortunately that is just what we're going to have to do. Sorry if that doesn't work for people, but Sunday threads, usually do alright.

So, with that being said, next thread is planned for next Sunday, 22 May at 2PM EST. I MIGHT, big might there, run a surprise thread this weekend so keep an eye out.

Otherwise that's all for news. I'm glad to be back, missed doing this and you guys. Death to Redward, /qst/, etc.

Going to archive and then disappear for a few hours. If you guys leave questions I might be around later tonight to answer. Thanks for playing as always and a tentative good night.

>>47240794
We would probably be forced to make victus legit if we keep giving out daughters.

>>47240803
Get shoved. If the woman wants the only good thing (in her eyes) to come from such a shit part of her life, she can keep them.

>>47240803
>we already have had a consensus choice for a while now.
What the fuck are you on about?

>>47240822
Night dad, have a good one.

>>47240822
Brynden doesnt have to like his nieces though. While he may not kill them i cant imagine him have much affection for them.

How exactly is Obella handling that her pregnancy was actually used to trap Brynden ?

That got to be a bitter thing to admit. While it turned out alright in the end it was some really underhanded shit going on.

>>47240846
We would try to make them join the church when they come of age.

>>47240822

Weekend threads are fine with me.

>>47240846
Probably referencing other discussions which, dont really lock anything in at all.

>>47240822
Thanks for running, hope the weekend time slots work out.

Just let the twin neices be a part of the family. Isis is not going ANYWHERE when we get her back fully. Fuck to the hell no.
And with Isis with us, we'll have to look after the girls anyway, in a round about way. Innocent young lives etc. Even if Bryden is not very enthused about them to begin with.

>>47240418
>Lorelei
Don't burn bridges with the crown, lads.

>>47240901
I can imagine Brynden treating them a bit like how Catelyn treated Jon Snow

>>47240919
Dunno. Bryden pretty much went to the land of "No one gives a fuck where your from, its what you do that matters"
for a good portion of his life. I imagine he would be pretty chill and not have a stick up his ass like Carelyn did.

>>47240944
These are the children of the guy who wiped out our family, backstabbed them then raped our sister,

It is not comparable.

>>47240944
Yeah no. We're not going buddy buddy with redfuck's spawn.

>>47240919
Honestly I see Brynden going along with how Isis treats them. He may be a but distant but he most likely wouldn't want to hurt Isis more than she already is.

>>47240822
Thanks for the run Padre

>>47240968
Its very comparable.
They are not redfuck, even if they are from him, and are ISIS's kids to boot.
I don't really think we would be buddy buddy, but i doubt we would shit on them either.

>>47240981
Basically this.

>>47240968
>>47240978
You guys are blaming innocents, they didn't ask to be born you know.

>>47240978
I wonder if folks would be more accepting of the girls if they resembled their mother with the same hair.

>>47240978
What about the children of his sister?

>Brynden ends up being the cold father figure whos affection and approval they crave
>>47241015
So?

>>47241023
The Sons will treat them the same what ever comes. Isis will treat them the same what ever comes. So B probably will just by proximity.
Specially without Dontos around to be an ass.

>>47241043
Bless the Sons

>>47241043
Plus its a pretty nice indicator if someone we meet is a utter cunt or not: If they act like dicks to our neices or victus.

Well, after we kill redfuck anyway and get the marriage annulled.

>>47241054
Best Dads evah!! For all years!! Though it would be funny if Victus got asked whose his dad and he simply replied which one? I have twenty.

Why the hell would the sons care about our nieces?

>>47241054
The Sons truly are the best childcare solution either side of the narrow sea.

Brynden got a daughter. Better start importing sill drsses from Yi Ti

We are gonna spoil the shit out of her

Thanks for the run

>>47241161
And a pony.

>>47241324
Three of them

>>47241324
Is a pony really spoiling her if we are the house known for our horses?

>>47241414
The BEST pony in all the land.

>>47241448
But anon the thing is, why get her a pony, when we could get her a warhorse?

>>47241466
Because she could get hurt or die

Give her a palfrey

>>47241466
>Not a warpony
Fucking plebes I tell you hwat

>>47241466
"Here's your new Warhorse sweety, happy name day"

"But I wanted a pony"

"Uh, this is a...um, Queen Pony. Certainly not a warhorse. Mason, take the armor off the horse for now."

And now for a rousing game of, what's Lorelei Malroy Hong to browse up to be and who do we marry her to in canon?

>>47241488
>Malroy
>Getting hurt while riding their horse
Not a very good daughter then desu senpai

Well she looks more like a Qorgyle>>47241528

>>47241523
Firstborn daughter we can probably marry to some pretty high level. Hightower, Swann. Bolton. That kind of rank

>>47241586
Still a Malroy

>>47241528
What if her gift works or scorpions and not horses?
>Dad, why can't I ride a scorpion?
>Well, because they're too small?
>There must be a giant scorpion somewhere in this world, I mean there's the direwolves of the Starks of old and the giant krakens of the Greyjoys and the dragons too!

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>>47241617
I want me some latin love, hombre

>>47241629
Breed the best of Malroy horses with the best of Qorgyles horses and name the new blood line after her.

>>47240822
Weren't Lorelei the name your gf suggested?

>>47241621
In name only

>>47241704
Stop shitposting Giselle