>>3674486
>[ ] "Drennan, you know my Uncle and Erik, don't you?"

>>3674486
Opening write up's a bit rough. Not an indictment I probably couldn't do any better.

>[ ] Toast in your kin and family friend's direction, they'd appreciate it more.
Get them some horns of wine

Voting closed; writing now.

>>3674804
>horns of wine
do you even cthulu viking?

>[X] "Drennan, you know my Uncle and Erik, don't you?"
>[X] Toast in your kin and family friend's direction, they'd appreciate it more.

All of the plotting and intrigue can wait another time. You have guests you actually care about to greet and welcome to your hall. If you don't introduce them properly to your hospitality, they'll have complaints and rib you for it.

You clear your throat.

"Drennan, you know my Uncle and Erik, don't you?"

The old man scowls.

"Of course I know Dunstan and Erik the Anvil Breaker! There's not a single reaver in the Iron Isles that doesn't know those names! Do you take me for a senile old man, boy!?"

Everyone on your side of the table including your guests and some of Drennan's own retinue stare at the aged reaver.

His little outburst is a little too much to even be considered from surprise. If anything, it sounds like what he's accusing you of suggesting he is. Wouldn't surprise you if he was going senile: men who don't temper their minds typically lose it in their old age. The old bastard could've actually ordered your father poisoned in senile fit and completely forgot about it when he came to his senses.

You relax against your seat and raise your mead-horn towards your uncle and your shared family friend.

"To my uncle and Erik Anvil Breaker, who came to pay their respects to my father!"

Silence continues to fill the air for a moment before others join in your toast.

Both men and several members of their joined retinue share looks, give small shrugs, and seat themselves on some of the remaining free seats.

Whether or not your lord paramount will make himself remains to be seen.

>[ ] "Uncle! Did you bring Red Rain? It's been a long time since I've seen its beautiful smoking ripples and folds."
>[ ] "Share your stories of daring raids and accomplishments, Uncle! I was growing tired of hearing Sunderly's."
>[ ] "Anvil-Breaker! You didn't shatter any of my blacksmiths' anvils while you were coming here, did you?"
>[ ] "Men, I don't think we've been showing the Sunderlys the hospitality they deserve."
>[ ] "I was worried this hall would be decorated and our table filled for nothing."
>[ ] "Excuse me for a moment, my guests."
>[ ] Have some drinks, imbibing a little wouldn't hurt and make you seem less suspicious.
>[ ] Signal to Euron to follow you, can't initiate a family slaughtering if you don't have a signal everyone will recognize.
>[ ] Write In.

late where I'm at

will close voting and update tomorrow morning my time (UTC-8)

thoughts or questions?

>>3675298

>[ ] "Share your stories of daring raids and accomplishments, Uncle! I was growing tired of hearing Sunderly's."

>>3675298
>[ ] Signal to Euron to follow you, can't initiate a family slaughtering if you don't have a signal everyone will recognize.

Rolled 2 (1d2)

>[ ] "Share your stories of daring raids and accomplishments, Uncle! I was growing tired of hearing Sunderly's."


>[ ] Signal to Euron to follow you, can't initiate a family slaughtering if you don't have a signal everyone will recognize.

>[X] "Excuse me for a moment, my guests."
>[X] Signal to Euron to follow you, can't initiate a family slaughtering if you don't have a signal everyone will recognize.

For all your planning, you didn't exactly set a signal for everyone to follow. The sound of screaming and scraping of axes and swords would definitely be a good enough one to signal everyone to do their parts but that's far after when you need them to realize it. Just saying for everyone to get to it subtly is probably enough, though.

You stand up from your lord's throne.

"Excuse me for a moment, my guests."

Turning to your stone stairs, you clench your right hand twice in Euron's direction.

Euron's dark eyes blink at the motion before narrowing as you nod ever so slightly.

Without a word, you walk up to the second floor and skulk around it to the other side of the hall by the entrance.

The captain of your guard, knowing your skulduggery ways, climbs the stairs from your new end to avoid suspicion.

Both of you enter Frenya's room and quietly shut the door behind you.

Stretching yourself out, you walk to your sister's bed and seat yourself down.

Euron examines your seated form and raises an eyebrow.

"What are you doing?"

You shoot the reaver a look.

"Sitting down. Other than that, I came here to tell you what the signal for the slaughtering is going to be."

The man keeps his brow raised.

"Does it really need to be specific, lord? You could just say it's slaughtering time. Either that, or you could say it's time to repay the Sunderlys for what they've done for your family."

You shake your head.

"Too menacing and alarming, we need something subtle and recognizable to all of us."

A hum rumbles in the man's throat as he lowers his eyebrow.

"I'm not good at being subtle."

Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you lean back on the bed.

"I know."

Euron stares at you once again in confused silence.

You blink and fully lay yourself down on the bed.

That might have not been the wisest thing to say but it's the truth: he's always been a front-line soldier. Besides that, he's never been one to take casual insults personally. He's probably staring at you all stoic-like because of some other thing.

>[ ] "Come to think of it, slaughter them all sounds good enough."
>[ ] "I think I'd like to go on a hunt, is the phrase I'll use."
>[ ] "I want to raid beyond the wall, is the phrase I'll use."
>[ ] "The drowned men stir, will be the phrase I use."
>[ ] "I'll point to you with my middle finger."
>[ ] "...What? What?"
>[ ] Write In.

>>3677168
"I don't speak the language of eyes, Euron. You'll have to use your tongue."

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "I don't speak the language of eyes, Euron. You'll have to use your tongue."

It's always best to be direct around people like your household guard captain. Skimping around the reef will make them think you weak and soft, like a Greenlander. You'll just be letting whatever feeling he has in his stomach fester if you do.

You raise your upper body off the bed and raise an eyebrow at your man.

"I don't speak the language of eyes, Euron. You'll have to use your tongue."

The head guardsman blinks before clearing his throat.

"...Lord Daegon, why are you laying down on your sister's bed?"

Blinking back, you tilt your head ever so slightly to the side.

"Of all things, that's what's on your mind?"

Euron nods.

"It's strange seeing you just up and sit and lay on her bed like this."

A groan escapes your lips.

"You can't be serious."

The man shakes his head.

"I am. I've never seen you ever do something like this. It's on par with your father leaving behind a man on a raid or leaving a young woman alone in her pillaged home instead of rightfully taking her."

Silence fills the air for a moment before you once again blink your dark eyes.

"...That's more against his character than something he normally wouldn't do."

He scoffs.

"It's still strange seeing you so... relaxed."

A weak groan vibrates in your throat.

There's little reason for you to be relaxed right now but your second-youngest sister's bed is surprisingly comfortable.

>[ ] "Come to think of it, slaughter them all sounds good enough."
>[ ] "I think I'd like to go on a hunt, is the phrase I'll use."
>[ ] "I want to raid beyond the wall, is the phrase I'll use."
>[ ] "The drowned men stir, will be the phrase I use."
>[ ] "My middle finger will be the signal."
>[ ] "We never had this conversation."
>[ ] "Were you always like this?"
>[ ] Write In.

>>3677831

>"Do you hear the Storm God roaring? Will be the phrase I use."
>[ ] "We never had this conversation."

Getting late where I'm at and I'm going out for dinner.

Will close voting and update tomorrow morning my time (UTC-8)

thoughts or questions?

>>3677831
This >>3677981
and add, "It is good, in tense times, to force yourself to relax, no matter how much the mind rebels."

>>3677831
>"Do you hear the Storm God roaring? Will be the phrase I use."
>[ ] "We never had this conversation."

Life stuff has come up. Will close voting and update in a day or two.

>>3680600
I hope whatever it is works out. You may want to consider stating everything up with the SIFRPG rulebook. This board has an autistic obsession with it and using the system should bring a sizeable amount of players in. You can probably find the resources in a /tg/ thread or in one of the other GoT quest threads on this board.

Voting closed; writing now.

>>3681436
It is so goddamn contrived, though. So many skills to be rolled for so many different situations that could easily be cut down.

>>3687210
That's true, it can be overly complicated and I've seen a fair bit of house ruling to cut down on it. I think it may be that a lot of people love having the agency in the character and house creation. That initial spark generally paves the way to consistently high player counts. All of the quests using this format that are no longer active are that way due to MIA QMs, not from a lack of interest.

>[X] "Do you hear the Storm God roaring? Will be the phrase I use."
>[X] "We never had this conversation."

Any phrase that's recognizable but up to interpretation will do. So long as violence isn't mentioned or in your tone, you can take the Sunderly party by surprise. The signal you have in mind is ominous enough to be recognizable and off-putting enough to possibly surprise your enemy before the actual surprise.

"Do you hear the Storm God roaring? Will be the phrase I use."

Euron nods and hums.

"Oddly blasphemous but it'll due mi'lord."

You raise an eyebrow at your man.

"How is it blasphemous?"

The guard captain frowns.

"You're using the Storm's God name to kill followers of the Drowned God."

Lowering your eyebrow, you shoot him a look.

"That's not blasphemous, it's underhanded."

Euron shrugs.

"Same thing."

You drop your look, take a deep breath, and sigh.

"We never had this conversation."

The blunt soldier nods once again as you hop off your sister's bed.

Brushing off your intrigue face, you walk out of Frenya's chambers and sneak around the second floor's halls before walking normally back to your lord's throne.

Little seems to have passed in your absence save for your Uncle and Erik settling into the festive mood.

If you're going to make your move, it's best to do it later when the Sunderlys have made themselves comfortable and Quellon has made his presence firmly unannounced. No harm in rushing into it other than disrupting the festivities and having a mess to explain to your Lord Paramount if he turns out to actually be coming.

>[ ] "Drennan, uncle, did you bring Red Rain? It's been a long time since I've seen its beautiful smoking ripples and folds."
>[ ] "Uncle! Erik! Share tales of your exploits with us!"
>[ ] "Is anything off, my dear siblings?"
>[ ] Devour some roasted fish, you haven't really gotten to fully partake yet.
>[ ] Have some drinks, imbibing a little wouldn't hurt and make you seem less suspicious.
>[ ] Wait for Euron to make his own way back down, can't say the signal without the man to enact things.
>[ ] Write In.

Late. Will close voting and update tomorrow when I can.

Sorry about the wait, some more shit popped up and I had to take care of it.

>>3688291
>[ ] Have some drinks, imbibing a little wouldn't hurt and make you seem less suspicious.
>[ ] "Uncle! Erik! Share tales of your exploits with us!"

>>3688291
>[ ] "Is anything off, my dear siblings?"
>[ ] Devour some roasted fish, you haven't really gotten to fully partake yet.

Rolled 1 (1d2)

>[ ] Have some drinks, imbibing a little wouldn't hurt and make you seem less suspicious.
>[ ] "Uncle! Erik! Share tales of your exploits with us!"

>[ ] "Is anything off, my dear siblings?"
>[ ] Devour some roasted fish, you haven't really gotten to fully partake yet.

>[X] Have some drinks, imbibing a little wouldn't hurt and make you seem less suspicious.
>[X] "Uncle! Erik! Share tales of your exploits with us!"

While you could use a bite, having a drink or two will ease your nerves and dispel whatever suspicion you've garnered. A lot of people make the mistake of dropping their guard when they think their opponent is relaxed. Your siblings will be the only ones throwing suspicious eyes your way on account of your usual restraint.

You pick up the nearest mug of ale on the dining table and take a gulp.

Gremma, Qhorwyn, Shera, and Mhaegon stare at you in a somewhat shocked silence as the piss-tasting drink goes down your throat.

Raising an eyebrow, you shoot them a look.

"What?"

Lyssa, Ragner, and Daemon share a snicker.

"They've never seen you drink before, brother, the pups at least."

Shera tugs on her sister's shirt.

"I-Is Daegon going to get angry now?"

Your eldest sister rocks your youngest.

"No he's not, little snake: Daegon's not like father. He gets... sad when he's drunk."

A groan escapes your lips.

"I'm not going to get drunk, I'm just going to drink a cup or two."

Gremma furrows her brow at you.

"That's all you better drink."

Nodding, you let out a laugh.

"Of course that's all I'm going to drink; you sound so much like mother."

Your sister sighs as her brutish siblings snicker.

"Someone had to be when she wasn't around to put some sense into you fools."

You chuckle as you turn to the direction of your other, distant kin.

"Uncle! Erik! Share tales of your exploits with us!"

The two men share a look before looking back at you all with a hearty laugh.

Both men share exciting tales of their reavings in Essos with some passing mention of you father's involvement but mostly theirs.

With the exception for a tale or two about the Thousand Isles, you can tell they're telling you the truth or at least some of it.

Not enough time has passed to determine whether or not Quellon will arrive.

>[ ] "Drennan, uncle, did you bring Red Rain? It's been a long time since I've seen its beautiful smoking ripples and folds."
>[ ] "...Do you hear the Storm God roaring?"
>[ ] "Is anything off, my dear siblings?"
>[ ] Devour some roasted fish, you haven't really gotten to fully partake yet.
>[ ] Have some more drinks, you might get a little bit off but it'll help you further relax.
>[ ] Wait for Euron to make his own way back down, can't say the signal without the man to enact things.
>[ ] Write In.

>>3690475
>[ ] "Is anything off, my dear siblings?"
>[ ] Wait for Euron to make his own way back down, can't say the signal without the man to enact things.

>>3690475
>>[ ] "Drennan, uncle, did you bring Red Rain? It's been a long time since I've seen its beautiful smoking ripples and folds."

>>3690676
>>[ ] Wait for Euron to make his own way back down, can't say the signal without the man to enact things.
forgot to delete this option, he's already down since Drennan and Erik told some of their stories.

Rolled 2 (1d2)

>[ ] "Is anything off, my dear siblings?"

>>[ ] "Drennan, uncle, did you bring Red Rain? It's been a long time since I've seen its beautiful smoking ripples and folds."

>[X] "Dunstan, uncle, did you bring Red Rain? It's been a long time since I've seen its beautiful smoking ripples and folds."

No harm in asking to see the old blade once belonging to house Reyne. He might even tell you the story of how his house got a hold of it again. You used to hear it all the time but it's a timeless classic of how an Ironborn lord swindled a foppy Greenlander fool. If only it were that easy for every house to gain an ancestral Valyrian steel blade.

You focus again on your mother's brother.

"Dunstan, uncle, did you bring Red Rain? It's been a long time since I've seen its beautiful smoking ripples and folds."

The man immediately rises from his seat, draws the blade by his hip, and points it into the air.

"Of course I brought it, lad, I never leave my home without the bloody thing!" Dunstan waves the blade around the around. "Feast your eyes, boys! This is what the greatness of House Drumm looks like! This beautiful thing can cleave through axes, skulls, and armor like they were fucking wool!"

Men from every side of the table raise their mugs and yell in honor of the rippling blade.

You and your other siblings who've heard him say the same bit dozens of times resist the urge to collectively roll your eyes.

While you don't mind hearing the tale of how his family got the damn thing, you don't like how much the bastard shows it off. It's a reminder of how low your house is in comparison to others. House Drumm doesn't completely control Old Wyk but they're the biggest player on the small isle.

Uncle Dunstan lets out a hearty laugh before beginning his family's story.

You and everyone else in the room sit back and listen to the ridiculous tale of how Hilmar Drumm swindled Red Rain from a Reyne knight with nothing but his wits and a wooden cudgel.

It is a pretty barebones story but Dunstan's delivery and the timelessness of Greenlanders being useless fools makes it a comfort to hear. Your father always hated it but your mother loved it.

If only she were still here.

Frowning, your eyes drift back to the filled mug before you.

Quellon Greyjoy is either not coming or arriving very late.

>[ ] "What would mother usually say about now? Little Dunstan's head has grown larger than his brain?"
>[ ] "...Do you hear the Storm God roaring?"
>[ ] "Is anything off, my dear siblings?"
>[ ] Devour some roasted fish, you haven't really gotten to fully partake yet.
>[ ] Have some more drinks, you might get a little bit off but it'll help you further relax.
>[ ] Write In.

Late. Will close voting and update sometime tomorrow.

I just realized I messed up the names between Sunderly and Drumm.

>>3691355
>[ ] "...Do you hear the Storm God roaring?"

>>3691355
>[ ] "...Do you hear the Storm God roaring?"

Voting closed; writing now.

File: red feast.jpg (3.5 MB, 3000x1750)

3.5 MB JPG

>[X] "...Do you hear the Storm God roaring?"

Now is as good a time as any to slaughter an entire family. There's nothing Quellon could do to stop you now and little he can do to protest once he hears the news. Killing him along with Drennan and his whelp would've been too big of a move for you to do without proper support from the other lords of the Iron Isles. The claim you have on their lands protects you from any dismissal Quellon may have of your move.

You hold up a hand to stop the white noise of festivities taking place and people talking.

One by one, the men see your gesture and pipe down.

A small smile makes its way on to your face as you raise an empty mug into the air.

"To my father, The Marauding Sea-Dragon!"

Laughs and smiles once again escape and adorn the faces of your prey.

You raise a hand once again while ale, mead, and beer pass the lips of the Sunderly house's men.

"...Do you hear the Storm God roaring?"

The eyes of your enemies barely widen enough in time before the first of their skulls is cleaved by one of your men's axes.

Gremma immediately rises from her seat, little Shera clutched to her chest, and darts up the stairs to the safety of your castle's second floor.

Mhaegon sits up from her own seat to snap Frenya and Qhorwyn out of their shock before joining your eldest sister in taking shelter on the upper story.

Four groups of four members of your guard block-off the stair entrances with a shield-wall after your defenseless siblings find their way to safety.

Erik and Dunstan's own household guard rise and surround their confused lords in a protective phalanx.

Daemon, Lyssa, and Ragner watch with interest as well as some surprise as your men easily surround and slaughter the opposing household guard, your men hacking at them with their steel and raining hand-axes from above.

Erik and Dunstan's own household guard rise and surround their confused lords in a protective phalanx but don't assist the Sunderly men in defending against your surprise attack.

A shriek of pain and fear emerging behind your slaughtering wall of men fills the air.

"Stop this! Stop this madness! We are kin, Saltcliffe!"

You raise an eyebrow at the scream.

It's too late to stop now but it wouldn't hurt to save his daughter for his replacement or rub the wound in.

>[ ] "Ragner, Lyssa, would you both be dears and go cleave the man's head off his shoulders? His son's too if he's still alive?"
>[ ] "Leave the girl alive, she'll enforce my claim on the Drowned Fort!"
>[ ] "What are you three waiting for? You have weapons, don't you?"
>[ ] "Give Drennan some space but don't drop your guard."
>[ ] "Daemon, did you tell these two my plans?"
>[ ] Go join in on the fun, he should die by your hand.
>[ ] Sit back and watch the slaughter, no need for you to involve yourself.
>[ ] Write In.

>>3693731
>[ ] "Leave the girl alive, she'll enforce my claim on the Drowned Fort!"

Getting late where I'm at. Will close voting and update tomorrow my time (UTC-8)

>>3693731
>[ ] "Leave the girl alive, she'll enforce my claim on the Drowned Fort

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "Leave the girl alive, she'll enforce my claim on the Drowned Fort."

While leaving a single Sunderly alive could be dangerous, they're of no use without an army. She doesn't seem to be the dominant, ambitious, or vengeful type. By the Drowned God, she looks like she doesn't even eat meat on a barren archipelago where there's only meat to eat. You wouldn't be surprised if she eventually learned to love whoever you marry her off to, if she doesn't kill herself first.

Clearing your throat, you rise from your lord's throne.

"Leave the girl alive, she'll enforce my claim on the Drowned Fort!"

Affirmative cries of war ring through the air as your men continue slaughtering the Sunderlys.

Dunstan rises from his seat between his men to glare at you with somewhat angered eyes.

"Nephew, what is the meaning of this!"

You raise an eyebrow at your kin.

"What does it look like? I'm repaying the Sunderlys for their transgressions against my family."

The grown man snarls at your casual demeanor.

"Don't take that tone, boy, you are annihilating a house! What transgressions did they commit against the Saltcliffes? Quellon, the quiet bastard, will have your head for this if you do this with no reason!"

Furrowing your brow, you sit back on your throne.

"My father died suddenly and without reason. It's common for men his age to collapse, yes, but the old man was in fit shape for his age thanks to all his reaving and raping. Drennan has never been on good terms with my father and he had a claim on his land through my grandmother, weak but a claim nonetheless. In his senile old age, he must've ordered the assassination and probably forgot about it. Either way, I cannot let the Sunderlys leave this place alive. I will claim their lands through my grandmother's blood, reinforce my claim with their last woman, and be the first Saltcliffe to rule all of Saltcliffe."

Your uncle begins to relax.

"Without any evidence, Greyjoy could take your head."

You focus on the dwindling numbers of the Sunderlys as their male line's final screams and gasps fill the air.

"I don't need any evidence: I had a claim, pushed it with minimal bloodshed, and now have someone to secure it."

Euron and another one of your household guard pull out a shivering, weeping young woman covered in blood from the twitching and bleeding pile of bodies that was the Sunderlys and their own household guard.

A small frown makes its way on to your lips as the girl's red eyes meet your own dull ones.

You know that look all too well; she has a week at most until she slits her own throat or throws herself from your battlements.

>[ ] "Lyssa, dear sister, would you guide Lady Sunderly to the bathhouse and bathe her, please?"
>[ ] "Qhorwyn! It's about time you became a man! Come out here!"
>[ ] "Vickon! Come out! I need you to perform a marriage!"
>[ ] "I can't remember your name, can you remind me?"
>[ ] "Would you take her, Daemon?"
>[ ] "Ragner... nevermind."
>[ ] Write In.

File: captive.jpg (104 KB, 900x750)

104 KB JPG

forgot an image

>>3697213
>>[ ] "Qhorwyn! It's about time you became a man! Come out here!"
Chain her up somewhere until the business is done? Can't have captives kill themselves with impunity

>>3697213
>[ ] "Lyssa, dear sister, would you guide Lady Sunderly to the bathhouse and bathe her, please?"

Late. Will close voting and update tomorrow my time (UTC-8)

>>3697213
[ ] "Qhorwyn! It's about time you became a man! Come out here!"

Recall we got the suggestion a thread or two ago to tie them to a bed and force them to eat until they accepted their life as a salt wife? Probably a smart move this time around.

>>3697213
>>[ ] "Lyssa, dear sister, would you guide Lady Sunderly to the bathhouse and bathe her, please?"

Rolled 1 (1d2)

>>[ ] "Qhorwyn! It's about time you became a man! Come out here!"

>[ ] "Lyssa, dear sister, would you guide Lady Sunderly to the bathhouse and bathe her, please?"

>[X] "Qhorwyn! It's about time you became a man! Come out here!"

He is the weakest and least reliable of your brothers but he hasn't done anything to prove himself beyond redemption. The boy has already shown skill in stewardship and Ryan keeps praising him for it. A lordship might be just what he needs to come into his own. Maybe a woman will also get him to act less stuck-up.

You take a deep breath.

"Qhorwyn! It's about time you became a man! Come out here!"

Both your brutish siblings raise their brows before focusing on the stairs closest to your youngest brother's room.

A silent minute passes by until the sound of your castle doors creaking churns through the air.

Two more pass by until you see your shaky little brother walking down the stairs.

His eyes focus on you for the briefest of seconds before shifting to the pile of bodies that once were the Sunderly men and their guards.

Everyone other than your uncle and Erik's parties, lady Sunderly, and Drennan's dead men resists the urge to roll their eyes as the kid takes a fearful and disgusted step back.

You bite down the urge to grown at your brother's squeamishness.

If only you or your father could've taken him on a raid to harden him into the man he needs to be. This is one of the few things that make you ever doubt your mother's wisdom: she coddled him far too much.

"Come now, Qhorwyn, we don't have all day."

The boy gulps and hurries his steps down back to your hall's ground.

A satisfied sigh escapes your lips as he stands before your throne.

It only took him a few minutes this time, usually he's a lot more timid when you yell out his name.

Qhorwyn's eyes dart from the last living Sunderly to you.

"...Broth- L-lord, why have you called me here?"

You yourself glance at the young lady before focusing back on your brother.

She's far too fine of a catch for him but you can't have everything to yourself.

>[ ] "Qhorwyn Saltcliffe, I, Daegon Saltcliffe lord of all of Saltcliffe and Salt's End, bequeath you the Drowned Fort on the terms that you swear yourself to me and our family for all time until the end of time. Do you accept?"
>[ ] "I can't remember your name, Lady Sunderly, can you remind me?"
>[ ] "The girl, do you find her beautiful, little brother?"
>[ ] "Vickon! Come out! I need you to perform a marriage!"
>[ ] "Would you take her, Daemon?"
>[ ] "Ragner... nevermind."
>[ ] Write In.

>>3699701
>>[ ] "I can't remember your name, Lady Sunderly, can you remind me?"
>[ ] "Would you take her, Daemon?"

Voting closed; writing now.

>>3674486
>[ ] "Uncle! I was expecting you later but you're a welcome sight."

>>3699701
>[ ] "Qhorwyn Saltcliffe, I, Daegon Saltcliffe lord of all of Saltcliffe and Salt's End, bequeath you the Drowned Fort on the terms that you swear yourself to me and our family for all time until the end of time. Do you accept?"

>[X] "I can't remember your name, Lady Sunderly, can you remind me?"
>[X] "Would you take her, Daemon?"

It'd be off to marry her off without even knowing the pitiful lass' name. You can't be saying Lady Sunderly all the time like a forgetful ass. Besides that, you haven't really gotten Daemon's input on this whole thing. He's not one to be tied down but maybe he'd like having a home of his own in the Drowned Fort: it'd be his base of operations and a stronghold for his accumulated wealth. You doubt he'd be a good husband, though. Lady Sundery would definitely have a week at most to live before she ups and kills herself.

Once again, you focus on the bloody maiden.

"I can't remember your name, Lady Sunderly, can you remind me?"

The woman stares at you with blank eyes for a few seconds before parting her lips.

"...Ingrid, Ingrid Sunderly."

You resist the urge to smack yourself upside the head for forgetting such a simple name.

It's always been easy for you to recall complex things and far off memories from your early childhood but names of all things escape you.

Letting out a sigh, you turn to your literal right hand man.

"Would you take her, Daemon?"

Your second-oldest brother raises an eyebrow at you.

"Depends on what you mean by that."

You shoot him a look.

"As a wife to rule over The Drowned Fort as my bannerman. Either that or a salt wife to shame her family one last time. What do you think?"

He shakes his head.

"I appreciate the offer but I'd rather be on my own in the sea for now." A grin spreads across his face. "You're not making me stay that easily."

Rolling your eyes, you focus back on a confused Qhorwyn.

Lord's have ruled two castles before but those rules have never really been as efficient as they could be.

>[ ] "Qhorwyn Saltcliffe, I, Daegon Saltcliffe lord of all of Saltcliffe and Salt's End, bequeath you the Drowned Fort on the terms that you swear yourself to me and our family for all time until the end of time. Do you accept?"
>[ ] "...Nevermind, Qhorwyn, I just needed to see if you were alright."
>[ ] "Ingrid, do you find her beautiful, little brother?"
>[ ] "Vickon! Come out! I need you to perform a marriage!"
>[ ] "Lyssa, dear sister, would you guide Lady Sunderly to the bathhouse and bathe her, please?"
>[ ] "Ragner... nevermind."
>[ ] Write In.

>>3700149
>>3700200
double late, but that first one was positively ancient

>>3700212
>[ ] Write In.
Why not just marry her and make Qhorwyn the stewart of the Drowned Fort? Maybe with another more martial sibling as backing? Ingrid is more at our level as a suitable match. We need a proper heir.

>>3700212
>>[ ] "Qhorwyn Saltcliffe, I, Daegon Saltcliffe lord of all of Saltcliffe and Salt's End, bequeath you the Drowned Fort on the terms that you swear yourself to me and our family for all time until the end of time. Do you accept?"
>>[ ] "Ingrid, do you find her beautiful, little brother?"

>>3700212
>[ ] "Qhorwyn Saltcliffe, I, Daegon Saltcliffe lord of all of Saltcliffe and Salt's End, bequeath you the Drowned Fort on the terms that you swear yourself to me and our family for all time until the end of time. Do you accept?"
>[ ] "Ingrid, do you find her beautiful, little brother?"

Getting late where I'm at. Will close voting and update tomorrow my time (UTC-8)

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "Qhorwyn Saltcliffe, I, Daegon Saltcliffe lord of all of Saltcliffe and Salt's End, bequeath you the Drowned Fort on the terms that you swear yourself to me and our family for all time until the end of time. Do you accept?"
>[X] "Ingrid, do you find her beautiful, little brother?"

Daemon doesn't want it so you may as well give it to your little brother. Ragner can't be trusted with anything that requires a fine ancient hand and the rest of your siblings are women, which would cause a lot of controversy among the other lords. A shame, really: Gremma would've made a wonderful bannerwoman.

A small smile makes its way on to your face.

"Qhorwyn Saltcliffe, I, Daegon Saltcliffe lord of all of Saltcliffe and Salt's End, bequeath you the Drowned Fort on the terms that you swear yourself to me and our family for all time until the end of time. Do you accept?"

The second-youngest Saltcliffe's eyes widen before they blink in awe.

"I... I don't know what to say, brother."

You raise an eyebrow at the young man.

"What? You don't want it?"

Qhorwyn raises his hands and shakes them along with his head.

"No, no, no, no! I want it, Daemon, I accept!

Lowering your brow, a small laugh escapes your lips.

"Then swear yourself to me."

He nods and kneels.

"I-I, Qhorwyn Saltcliffe, swear myself to you and our family for all time until the end of time."

You raise a hand.

"Rise Qhorwyn, lord of the Drowned Fort."

The young man complies and rises from the ground with his head held high.

Your men, present siblings, and even some of Erik and Dunstan's men applaud the new lordling.

Once again, your focus shifts over to Lady Sunderly before centering back on your kin.

"Ingrid, do you find her beautiful, little brother?"

The young lord glances at the girl, grimaces at the blood caking her dress, and looks back to you.

"...Yes, I do but I think she'd look better without all the blood."

You, your brothers, and some of your men chuckle at your younger brother's squeamishness.

It seems you have a clear course of action here.

>[ ] "Would you like to marry her to secure your claim on the Drowned Fort or must I make her a saltwife of mine?"
>[ ] "Servants, come and clean up the mess the Sunderlys made! We have other things to celebrate!"
>[ ] "Lyssa, dear sister, would you guide Lady Sunderly to the bathhouse and bathe her, please?"
>[ ] "Vickon! Come out! I need you to perform a marriage!"
>[ ] "Ragner... nevermind."
>[ ] Write In.

>>3702664
>>[ ] "Servants, come and clean up the mess the Sunderlys made! We have other things to celebrate!"
>[ ] "Lyssa, dear sister, would you guide Lady Sunderly to the bathhouse and bathe her, please?"
we need to let Qhorwyn know that he needs to marry her

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "Servants, come and clean up the mess the Sunderlys made! We have other things to celebrate!"
>[X] "Lyssa, dear sister, would you guide Lady Sunderly to the bathhouse and bathe her, please?"

>(1/2)

He'll have to marry her to secure his claim but that can wait until later. You have celebrations to continue right now. It might be a little inappropriate but you don't have the time or the inclination to waste a perfectly good feast setup like this. Qhorwyn managed to grow his balls some more, which is an entirely different but still perfectly good reason to hold a feast.

Clearing your throat, you raise your voice.

"Servants, come and clean up the mess the Sunderlys made! We have other things to celebrate!"

Your thralls and employed villagers immediately come out from their hiding places to answer your call.

The men of your guard closest to the pile of bodies laugh as your servants grimace at the grisly sight.

Shaking your head at their behavior, you focus back on the bloody woman in the room before looking to your only present sister.

"Lyssa, dear sister, would you guide Lady Sunderly to the bathhouse and bathe her, please?"

The brutish girl crosses her arms and raises an eyebrow at you.

"What do I look like? A maid? Get Camyla or one of them to do it."

You shake your head once again.

"I need someone strong enough to hold her down if she tries anything and I can't just command one of my men to do something like that with a woman."

>(2/2)

Lyssa scoffs.

"Then you do it, she may as well be yours now."

A groan escapes your lips.

"I'm not going to bathe the last living remnant of the family I just exterminated while she's still covered with their blood. She'll probably try to kill herself the moments my hands touch her body. Do it, Lyssa, please."

The girl snarls before relenting with a sigh.

"Fine, I'll do it. I can't promise she'll be in one piece if she puts up a fight, though."

You nod.

"That's perfectly fine; just be gentle with her while she's docile."

Rolling her eyes, the brutish woman rises from her seat and stomps over to the bloody maiden.

Ingrid closes her eyes in acceptance but opens them as Lyssa literally sweeps her off her feet and catches her in her toned arms.

Your sister departs from the hall without a word or a glance back much to your and everyone else in the room's surprise.

A part of you occasionally wonders what it'd be like if she had been born a man and the answer that she'd be exactly the same is one that always comes back to you. Despite your father's preference for women to act like women, he never complained about his second daughter practically being his third son before Ragner. Her command of his ship during the time he was recovering from an unsullied spear thrust most definitely had a lot to do with that.

The same could be said about Gremma before her temper mellowed too.

Back to the actual matters at hand, however.

>[ ] "Erik, you've kept silent throughout the entire massacre. Do you have anything to say?"
>[ ] "Do stay, Uncle and Erik, it'd be a shame to let this feast go to waste."
>[ ] "Men, you can take leave at the barracks. You've more than earned it."
>[ ] "You do realize I mean to wed you to Lady Sunderly, right?"
>[ ] "Qhorwyn, come and join your brothers."
>[ ] Wait for the Sunderly stained side of the room to get cleaned, won't be a feast if blood is everywhere.
>[ ] Write In.

Late. Will close voting and update tomorrow my time (UTC-8).

Thoughts or questions so far, my anons?

>>3703578
I don't want to make an exact decision however what was Erik and our Uncle's opinions on our house as well were the sunderlys the only ones on our island?
>>3703475
if they tend to favor us or at least neutral
ask >[ ] "Erik, you've kept silent throughout the entire massacre. Do you have anything to say?"
then regardless if not
>[ ] "You do realize I mean to wed you to Lady Sunderly, right?"

Voting closed; writing now.

>I don't want to make an exact decision however what was Erik and our Uncle's opinions on our house as well were the sunderlys the only ones on our island?
Pretty high. The Sunderlys were the only other house on the Isle of Saltcliffe.

>[X] "Erik, you've kept silent throughout the entire massacre. Do you have anything to say?"
>[X] "You do realize I mean to wed you to Lady Sunderly, right?"

It's never a bad move to measure the opinions of those with some degree of influence you could use. Erik was a good friend of your father's and is still a legend for once reaving with Dagon Greyjoy. He probably thinks of you as some kind of dangerous upstart or a daring new lord. Both potential views have grains of truth in them.

You turn to your father's eldest friend.

"Erik, you've kept silent throughout the entire massacre. Do you have anything to say?"

The old man blinks as his gaze meets yours.

"...I don't think I can say anything right now: you ended a house within the span of a few minutes as if they were hogs to slaughter. I knew of Drennan when he was a boy and now he's a corpse staining the floor of your halls with his blood along with his son... Never have I seen something like this in my days."

A hum vibrates in your throat.

"Now you have. Can't say I blame you for being shocked, I'm surprised it was this easy. Thought me and my siblings would have to get involved but all it took was a pincer surprise attack and a few axe volleys for good measure."

Erik slowly nods.

"Yes...that was all it took."

Your guest check-up done, you turn to your little brother.

"You do realize I mean to wed you to Lady Sunderly, right?"

Qhorwyn blinks and blushes.

"W-wait, what?"

Raising an eyebrow, you shoot him a look.

"Why did you think I asked you if you liked how she looked? She's the last Sunderly alive and the perfect way for you to secure your claim now that I've gifted you their lands."

The boy looks down at his feat.

"...I've never even been with a woman."

You and your other brothers laugh.

"Well, you're going to be; take it slow, never go in dry, and be patient with her."

Qhorwyn blinks as Ragner and Daemon laugh even harder.

He's going to know very much what it's like to to be with a woman. You can't say you pity him but you do feel sympathetic of the awkwardness he'll feel when he's naked with her. It's always rough and humiliating the first time, even if it's claiming a salt wife.

>[ ] "Men, you can take leave at the barracks. You've more than earned it."
>[ ] "Uncle, how have you been as of late? How's little Donnel?"
>[ ] "Are your sons well, Ironbreaker? They're not with you."
>[ ] "Qhorwyn, come and join your brothers."
>[ ] Wait for the Sunderly stained side of the room to get cleaned, won't be a feast if blood is everywhere.
>[ ] Write In.

>>3706178
more than earned it."
>[ ] "Uncle, how have you been as of late? How's little Donnel?"
What does the brother options do?

Late. Will close voting and update tomorrow morning my time (UTC-8)

>>3706844
brother options trigger funny scenes with your siblings and also bring them closer to you

>>3706942
Then fuck it let’s bring in the family as well, the salt serpent has many heads afterall.

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "Men, you can take leave at the barracks. You've more than earned it."
>[X] "Qhorwyn, come and join your brothers."
>[X] "Uncle, how have you been as of late? How's little Donnel?"

>(1/2)

Being with family always makes you feel some happiness, even if your father was part of the occasion. It'd be good for all of you to bond with each other too. You'd invite the rest of your family if they weren't busy attending to the delicate children. The Sunderlys aren't even cleaned up yet.

First things first, though.

You look to the ever vigilant Euron.

"Men, you can take leave at the barracks. You've more than earned it."

Your guard captain and his men nod in understanding, turn to the hall door, and march out in an orderly fashion.

Guards dismissed, you turn to your littlest brother and motion for him to walk over.

"Qhorwyn, come and join your brothers."

The boy blinks his dark eyes yet again before making his way to the chair he was sitting on earlier.

Ragner rises from his own, sits himself next to Qhorwyn, and ruffles the lad's hair.

"Look at the new lord of the Drowned fort! Barely ten and three and a lord!"

Qhorwyn, getting pulled closer to the tall man, grunts as you and Daemon laugh.

"I thought I was too soft to be your brother!"

The iron giant squeezes his little kin.

"You're a lordling now, a soft one but a lordling!"

Flimsy boy squeals.

"...Ragner, you're... crushing me."

>(2/2)

Your personal Dothraki Ironborn raises an eyebrow down at Qhorwyn's reddening face before releasing him.

"Huh, you're very squeezy, like a fat woman or a pillow."

Everyone save the poor little bastard and the servants laugh at the lad's embarrassment.

It's cruel but it's too funny not to laugh and the boy needs to learn how to take it.

Having spent some quality time with your close kin, you turn to your not so distant blood.

"Uncle, how have you been as of late? How's little Donnel?"

The laughing man turns from your brother to you.

"Donnel is fine, Denys is ruling in my stead and watching over him."

You raise an eyebrow.

"Little Denys is acting lord of your castle?"

Dunstan nods.

"Not so little anymore and just the right age to learn his responsibilities as lord for when I pass."

A laugh escapes your lips.

"You're not that old, uncle."

The man in his thirties shrugs.

"Death comes at any age, young Daegon. I want my son to be prepared for when I feast in the Drowned God's hall."

An understanding hum rumbles in your throat.

Your father wanted the same and expressed that by occasionally leaving you behind whenever he went on reavings. It was strange being an acting lord when you were about six but you got to boss the servants around, train with the guardsmen, spend time with your mother, and play as much as you wanted to with Gremma and Camyla. He brought you along much more often when Daemon started showing his potential.

>[ ] "I'm setting off to the Summer Isles when all this business is over. Do any of you want to come with?"
>[ ] "Daemon, how was Qhorwyn when you drilled him the other day?"
>[ ] "Are your sons well, Ironbreaker? They're not with you."
>[ ] Call down the rest of your family, it'd be better if everyone were around even with the blood.
>[ ] Wait for the Sunderly stained side of the room to get cleaned, won't be a feast if blood is everywhere.
>[ ] Write In.

>>3709469
>>[ ] "I'm setting off to the Summer Isles when all this business is over. Do any of you want to come with?"
>>[ ] "Are your sons well, Ironbreaker? They're not with you."
>>[ ] Call down the rest of your family, it'd be better if everyone were around even with the blood.

>>3709721
Backing this

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "I'm setting off to the Summer Isles when all this business is over. Do any of you want to come with?"
>[X] "Are your sons well, Ironbreaker? They're not with you."
>[X] Call down the rest of your family, it'd be better if everyone were around even with the blood.

>(1/2)

The more company you have, the merrier the journey down south will be. It also means more mouths to feed and people to worry about but that's a cost you're wiling to take for more men. May as well ask old Erik about his sons too while you're at it: such things help foster trust. Having more family around to spend time with is good as well. The pile of slowly disappearing bodies will be kind of a mood killer but they'd be here to spend time with.

"I'm setting off to the Summer Isles when all this business is over. Do any of you want to come with?"

Dunstan's mouth drops as does Erik's.

"You just exterminated the Sunderlys, granted their lands to your youngest brother, and are now leaving to go to the Summer Isles? What reason do you have to sail there? The moment they see your sails and recognize your longships, you'll be feathered with arrows!"

A smile makes its way on to your face.

"I won't be sailing under my own banner and I won't be taking our longships: I intend to see the isles of green and rich fruits. We've got iron and steel to trade for their goods."

Your uncle scoffs.

"Harrag would spit at such a thing. What need do you have of fruits?"

Shrugging, you lean back on your lord's throne.

"Frenya won't stop talking about them, our larders could use more variety, and I want to see if I can find something on that rich land which can grown on our thin, salty, and rocky soil."

Erik breaks out of his stunned trance to furrow his brow at you.

"Daegon, you intend to make your people sow?"

You roll your eyes.

"Our people have sown since the beginning of time, otherwise we would have starved to death long ago. We can preach the old way all we want but it will only ever apply to lord reavers like us. If every man with a boat truly were a king and every man had one, what use would they have for us lords? I merely wish to make this barren rock richer than the coal, tin, and iron my thralls mine from it."

>(2/2)

The two lord reavers sit in silence as they mull over the meaning of your words.

A minute or two passes until you realize they're not going to bother arguing with you. Knowing Dunstan, it's likely because he can see the wisdom in your words but doesn't want to admit you have a point. From what you know of Erik, he's too set in his ways to believe anything you have to say that contradicts his beliefs.

Letting out a sigh, you focus your gaze on the old legend.

"Are your sons well, Ironbreaker? They're not with you."

The old man blinks.

"...They're fine and well. They rule my keep while I'm away. None of them knew Harrag so I wished to attend this feast on my lonesome." He glances to the pile of dead bodies. "Things did not go the way I expected them to, however."

You nod in understanding.

No one ever expects there to be a complete massacre at a feast. If you were him, you'd be glad you left behind your family. Such a danger and surprise in the company of your kin would've led you to command your own men to attack everyone.

Speaking of kin.

You clear your throat.

"Gremma, Frenya, Mhaegan, and little Shera, you can all come out now! It's safe!"

Several seconds pass until the echoing churning of doors opening rings through the air followed by footsteps.

Gremma scowls and covers Shera's eyes while Frenya goes green and Mhaegon shakes her head when they reach the stair steps.

Your sisters return to their previous places, each with a certain look to send your way.

It seems asking your more innocent sisters to come out and see a blood bath would piss them off. A part of you wonders how you didn't think of that and another knows how much of a forgetful idiot you can be.

>[ ] "...I know your mad but I can make it up to each of you for this."
>[ ] "Daemon, how was Qhorwyn when you drilled him the other day?"
>[ ] "Qhorwyn, please tell your sisters the good news."
>[ ] "Have any of you seen Vickon or Ryan today?"
>[ ] "...What? What?"
>[ ] Wait for the Sunderly stained side of the room to get cleaned, won't be a feast if blood is everywhere.
>[ ] Write In.

Late. Will close voting and update tomorrow my time (UTC-8)

>>3710410
>[ ] "...I know your mad but I can make it up to each of you for this."
>[ ] "Have any of you seen Vickon or Ryan today?"

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "...I know you're mad but I can make it up to each of you for this."
>[X] "Have any of you seen Vickon or Ryan today?"

Always a bad idea to anger ones family, especially if they're female. There's a certain vindictiveness they have that transcends whatever rage men can have for other people. Considering your family's temper, you best apologize before they hold it against you at a later time for an extended period of time.

You look to each one of your sisters with their eyes uncovered before letting out a sigh.

"...I know you're mad but I can make it up to each of you for this."

Little Shera perks up.

"Why would we be mad at you, Daegon? Are you okay? What happened?"

You and your sisters raise an eyebrow at your naive youngest family members before they focus again on you.

"...I'm fine, little snake. The Sunderlys.... I ordered our men to kill the Sunderlys and all of them except Lady Ingrid were killed."

Shera lets out a little cry as your sisters all shoot you looks.

"W-why did you do that?!"

Again, your eyes dart from sister to sister and settle on your youngest.

"I had a claim on their lands, father's death was far too suspicious, Drennan was going senile, and I wanted to rule over all of the isle of Saltcliffe, which I now do."

A whine builds in the little girl's throat.

"Brother, I thought you were kind."

You blink and sigh.

"I'm not and I can't be, neither can you or any of your sisters. Kindness is weakness in these parts and in this world. That doesn't mean showing some won't benefit you, though. Just be careful who you show it to."

The little serpent turns around in her sister's lap and buries her head again into Gremma's chest.

Your sisters stares grow ever so malevolent as your youngest begins to weep.

Clearing your throat, begin to notice the lack of other non-members of your family.

"Have any of you seen Vickon or Ryan today?"

The surrounding stares of your siblings immediately become surprised ones.

"The crusty priest is back?" Frenya asks.

Nodding, you relax against your throne.

"He came back last night, I found him at the beach where we gave father to the Drowned God. I suppose he felt his death coming and came to bear witness but could only say goodbye."

Odd hums and looks shoot across your siblings faces.

He's not exactly popular around here or loved. You doubt all of your siblings will appreciate his presence again. Ryan will hate him most of all, knowing their past relationship. Right now, you really hope they're not in the middle of killing each other.

>[ ] "Daemon, how was Qhorwyn when you drilled him the other day?"
>[ ] "Frenya, can you go check up on Lyssa in the bathhouse?"
>[ ] "Qhorwyn, please tell your sisters the good news."
>[ ] "So have any of you seen Ryan, then?"
>[ ] Wait for the Sunderly stained side of the room to get cleaned, won't be a feast if blood is everywhere.
>[ ] Write In.

Late. Will close voting and update tomorrow my itme (UTC-8)

>>3712709
>>[ ] "Frenya, can you go check up on Lyssa in the bathhouse?"
>>[ ] "Qhorwyn, please tell your sisters the good news."

>>3712709
>>[ ] "Frenya, can you go check up on Lyssa in the bathhouse?"
>>[ ] "Qhorwyn, please tell your sisters the good news

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "Frenya, can you go check up on Lyssa in the bathhouse?"
>[X] "Qhorwyn, please tell your sisters the good news."

It'd benefit you if at least one of your mad sisters left the hall. Considering Frenya's the most squeamish one, she'll benefit most from the fresh air and you will from her absence. She'll figure out the good news about Qhorwyn from Lyssa. The others' tempers will probably lessen when your little brother lets them know about the great boon you bestowed upon him: they are fond of babying your baby brother.

You turn to your second youngest sister.

"Frenya, can you go check up on Lyssa in the bathhouse?"

The greenlanderish girl shoots you a look.

"What's that brute doing in the bathhouse and why do you need me of all people to go check up on her?

A small smirk makes its way on to your lips as you shrug.

"Bathing, what else could she possibly be doing? You can give her tips on how to wash."

Frenya rolls her eyes and groans before rising from her chair.

"Alright then, lord brother. I expect something special from the Summer Isles for this."

You nod.

"I was going to bring you and every one of you girls something from there anyway."

The green girl smiles before skipping off to the hall's door, much to you and everyone else's confusion as well as chagrin.

Blinking, you turn from your odd sister to your littlest brother.

"Qhorwyn, please tell your sisters the good news."

The boy blinks before his face turns a warm pink.

"...I-I'm being married to Ingrid Sunderly and was granted lordship of the Drowned Fort." Qhorwyn shrinks under his sisters' stunned gazes. "The marriage is to secure my claim and I'm expected to... to..."

Shera turns from Gremma's chest and claps as you and the rest of your siblings laugh at the poor boy.

"Congratulations, Qhorwyn!" She tilts her head as her sister covers her eyes once again. "What are you expected to do."

Once again, the rest of you laugh while Gremma shifts her hands to cover her ears.

Qhorwyn leans back in his chair and sighs.

You figure he'd be used to this kind of thing by now. He's going to have to be when around other lords in the future. The boy's too young not to be mocked but the way he takes the mocking can change for the better.

>[ ] "Relax, brother, we do this because we love you. When you're married and lord, we'll treat you with proper respect."
>[ ] "Daemon, how was Qhorwyn when you drilled him the other day?"
>[ ] "So have any of you seen Ryan, then?"
>[ ] Wait for the Sunderly stained side of the room to get cleaned, won't be a feast if blood is everywhere.
>[ ] Write In.

>>3715092
>[ ] "Daemon, how was Qhorwyn when you drilled him the other day?"
>[ ] "Relax, brother, we do this because we love you. When you're married and lord, we'll treat you with proper respect."

Getting late where I'm at. Will close voting and update tomorrow my time (UTC-8)

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "Daemon, how was Qhorwyn when you drilled him the other day?"
>[X] "Relax, brother, we do this because we love you. When you're married and lord, we'll treat you with proper respect."

>(1/2)

Camyla already told you how their practice matches went down but she didn't give you anything specific on how Qhorwyn was improving. A real warrior would be capable of discerning the experience of their combatant and how much they improve with each strike or move. You thought that was hog shit when you first heard it but after years of battle and reaving you know better.

Still smiling, you turn to your most capable brother.

"Daemon, how was Qhorwyn when you drilled him the other day?"

The smartest man you know glances from the subject at hand to you.

"It's been a long time so he was flinching again at first. After about ten minutes, he started trying to actually attack instead of stepping back." He chuckles. "That's when I started hooking his weapon away."

Qhorwyn groans.

"Why do you always do that? I know it's effective in battle but not when we're training."

Daemon shakes his head.

"Other reavers besides me hook weapons and shields. When I try to hook your weapon, you should hook mine in turn. Sooner or later, you'll be hooking swords away from Greenlanders and hooking pikes when they try to stab you, little lord."

Your new banner boy man sighs.

"Do I have to go reaving? He perks up in his seat. "Wait, don't I outrank you in the family now?"

>(2/2)

Once again, your older younger brother laughs.

"I'm my own man, and you're a bannerman. Besides that, the only ranks in this family are the ones formed by those who believe there to be ranks. We are in our brother's lands, which leaves you with no authority here. You are sworn to our brother, which means he has authority over you and your lands to some degree. When we're done in the summer isles, you can throw whatever authority are brother has over me into a chamber pot."

Qhorwyn crosses his arms.

"That still doesn't change the respect you show me, or your lack of it in this case." His eyes wander over all of you. "All of you lack respect for me, I don't think you ever had much to begin with."

Shera murmurs.

"I respect you, Qhorwyn."

The youngest Saltcliffe man recoils.

"Okay, all of you except Shera."

You laugh and shake your head as do your other brothers.

"Relax, brother, we do this because we love you. When you're married and lord, we'll treat you with proper respect."

Qhorwyn raises an eyebrow.

"You will?"

Ragner too raises his brow, like the idiot he is.

"We will?"

Placing a hand on your dunce of a brother's shoulder, you nod.

"You'll be a real man then and a lord. Not much we can mock you for other than your meekness. I imagine you'll be rid of that when you've come into your own."

The boy hums as he relaxes in his chair.

It'll definitely take some time for him to stop being a thin-skinned boy. He'll have to kill that boy to become a man one day. Your father's not here to force him to grow through killing men like the rest of you did.

>[ ] "Little Shera, come here. I want to hold you for once."
>[ ] "At the very least, Shera respects you, brother."
>[ ] "Little brother, do you feel ready for this?"
>[ ] "So have any of you seen Ryan, then?"
>[ ] Wait for the Sunderly stained side of the room to get cleaned, won't be a feast if blood is everywhere.
>[ ] Write In.

>>3718684
>[ ] "So have any of you seen Ryan, then?"

Getting late. Will close voting and update my time (UTC-8) tomorrow.

>>3718684
>>[ ] "Little Shera, come here. I want to hold you for once."
>>[ ] "So have any of you seen Ryan, then?"

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "Little Shera, come here. I want to hold you for once."
>[X] "So have any of you seen Ryan, then?"

You crushed the little girl's heart telling her you weren't who she thought you were. It's possible for you to make it up to her on your trip to the Summer Isles with sweets and gifts or by being more like the sweet brother she thought you were. Considering sweets and gifts are likely to be expensive, you're better off acting more like the brother she wants you to be. Ryan's current whereabouts are also still unkown.

Putting on your most greenlander smile, you turn to your little sea snake.

"Little Shera, come here. I want to hold you for once."

The girl shakes her head, turns around, and buries her face in her eldest sister's chest again.

"No, you're not my brother."

A sharp pain flares in your chest as you blink your widened dark eyes.

"...Shera."

Gremma pats her youngest sister's head, shooting you a sympathetic look but saying nothing.

You turn away from your favorite sisters and sigh.

"So have any of you seen Ryan, then?"

Collectively, your siblings shake their heads.

You furrow your brow and turn to Daemon.

"Do you have any idea where he could be?"

The man raises an eyebrow at you.

"Don't know why you're asking me but he's probably just sleeping in his chambers: the maester is an old man." He raises a hand to his chin. "Either that or Vickon drowned him as soon as you brought the mad priest back."

Ragner lets out a boisterous laugh.

"I remember the first time the Drowned Man tried to baptize Ryan! Poor bastard was shaking in his robes for the rest of the day!"

Dunstan and Erik, as well as their men, laugh with your giant dunce of a brother.

You resist the urge to groan and laugh along with your other Ironborn.

That event was incredibly amusing but you're much more concerned with the current well-being of your maester than his old sea-water drenched catatonic state.

>[ ] "At the very least, Shera respects you, little brother."
>[ ] "Daemon, can you go up to the old man's chambers?"
>[ ] "Ragner, go check on the Drowned Priest."
>[ ] Stand up and go look for the old man yourself, you can do things yourself.
>[ ] Rise and go to the Drowned Priest's chambers, he's bound to have something to say.
>[ ] Wait for the Sunderly stained side of the room to get cleaned, won't be a feast if blood is everywhere.
>[ ] Write In.

Late. Will close voting and update tomorrow my time (UTC-8)

Thoughts or questions?

>>3722218
>>[ ] "At the very least, Shera respects you, little brother."
>>[ ] "Ragner, go check on the Drowned Priest."

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "At the very least, Shera respects you, little brother."
>[X] "Ragner, go check on the Drowned Priest."

Someone close to you should really benefit from your suffering, at least it'd have a purpose. As for Ryan and Vickon, they might just be in the same place, trying to kill each other. Daemon might just kill the old crusty man and be done with it as would Ragner with the greenlander but you trust Ragner to be dumb enough to not do anything stupid, he's just that much of a dunce.

A sigh escapes your lips as your turn to your second-youngest sibling.

"At the very least, Shera respects you, little brother."

The boy shoots you a sympathetic look.

"Sorry, Daegon."

You shake your head.

"What do you have to feel sorry for?"

Qhorwyn shrugs.

Groaning, you turn to your dumb, ass of a brother.

"Ragner, go check on the Drowned Priest."

The grown man whines.

"Why do I have to go? Send Mhaegon or Daemon to do it."

You raise an eyebrow at the dunce.

"I'm telling you to do it because you're the only one I know who can reign old men in."

Immediately, the man perks up and slams his fist into his chest.

"You can count on me, brother!"

All of you watch with surprise as Ragner jumps out of his seat, runs up the stairs, and slams one of the castle chambers' doors shut.

That was a lot easier than you thought that'd be. Now, you can only hope the man is as stupid as you really believe him to be, which he most definitely is. Real thing you need to hope for is Vickon and Ryan both being alive and well away from one another.

>[ ] "Daemon, can you go up to the old man's chambers?"
>[ ] Stand up and go look for the old man yourself, you can do things yourself.
>[ ] Rise and go to the Drowned Priest's chambers, Ragner can't be trusted with anything.
>[ ] Wait for the Sunderly stained side of the room to get cleaned, won't be a feast if blood is everywhere and you've got nothing else to do.
>[ ] Write In.

Late. Will close voting and update tomorrow morning my time (UTC-8)

>>3725088
>>[ ] "Daemon, can you go up to the old man's chambers?"
>>[ ] Wait for the Sunderly stained side of the room to get cleaned, won't be a feast if blood is everywhere and you've got nothing else to do.

>>3725088
>>[ ] "Daemon, can you go up to the old man's chambers?"
>>[ ] Wait for the Sunderly stained side of the room to get cleaned, won't be a feast if blood is everywhere and you've got nothing else to do.

Voting closed; writing now.