Season 4, Turn 27
Days 1 - 15 of the Second Moon, 421 AC
General Summary
Rogare Bank, Bounty Hunter
Free City of Lys | CoenquistatoreThis is an announcement coming from the Rogare's Bank: I, Lotho Rogare, in spite of the Lysene council's negligence and indecisiveness, ordered the Lysene forces to invade Qohor in the attempt of forcing the Black Goat to pay back the loan he took from us under false pretenses. I appeal to the Lysene "Statute of Reclamation" to prove my commands are well within my right and must be obeyed at once by all Lysene officers. For Bakkalon, let's be swift and brutal." A military shake-up happened in the Lysene armies: Captain Lysander of the Rogares, despite being the leader of the Mariners of Lys, have been moved, apparently with his approval, to the command of the border forces that took Rhyos by surprise. The man seemed to have been preparing the assault for quite some time, secretly, and publicly allowed a policy of systematic looting by the border forces - most of the gold will be kept by the officers though, as the Lysene law dictates. The Mariner forces have been placed under the command - and that's a surprise - of the Steel Angels military order, the protectors of the Temple of the Pale Child of Bakkalon. This reflects perhaps the vicinity of Lotho's right hand man, Dinand of the Bakkalon, to the order. It's been long since any Steel Angel held such a position or even led a campaign of these proportions: will they be up to the task?
A New Conquest for the Andals, Continued
House Bracken | Kingdom of the Andals | Jack HandyAs was our agreement, House Bracken of The Hightower succeeds Freeport to the Free City of Lys and House Rogare.
THE BATTLE OF BLOODSTONE (And the Fall of Vargo Mott and the Rise of ”Bloodstone” Bracken) On the blood-soaked shores of the Stepstones, Prince Alexander Bracken surveyed the chaos that unfolded before him. The day before, he had triumphantly taken the castle of New Tide, but the warlord known as Vargo Mott, had gathered his remaining forces outside of the castle, waiting for Alexander on the field. The clash of steel, the screams of dying men, and the thundering hooves of his cavalry painted a grim tapestry of war. The Free City of Qohor had extended its grasp over these disputed lands, and Vargo Mott, a cunning and ruthless leader, stood as the embodiment of their ambition. The sun dipped low in the sky, casting long shadows across the battlefield as Alexander's cavalry charged into the heart of the Qohor ranks, storming out of the castle at breakneck speed. Knights in dark armor, bearing the Bracken, Fossoway and Uller sigils, cut through the chaos with precision, their blades glinting in the dying light. The clash of steel echoed through the air as the two forces collided, a symphony of war that played out in violent crescendos. As Alexander fought his way forward, he witnessed the brutality of the Qohorik soldiers. Mott's mercenaries were a diverse and merciless bunch, armed with exotic weapons and fueled by the promise of wealth and power. The Stepstones had become a battleground for dominion, and Alexander was determined to break the grip of the Free City. The Prince's steed thundered through the melee, its hooves crushing fallen soldiers as Alexander's blade cleaved through armor and flesh alike. The stench of blood and death surrounded him, but his focus remained on the distant figure of Vargo Mott. Clad in a crimson cloak, the Qohorik leader stood atop a hill, directing his forces with calculated precision, all while on horseback. Suddenly, the drums of war cried out and the earth began to tremble.... War Elephants, adorned with ornate Qohorik armor, stood resolute, the massive creatures lumbered forward, their sheer size and menacing tusks striking fear into the hearts of even the most seasoned warriors. Prince Alexander, his eyes fixed on Vargo, rode with determination as his cavalry clashed with the Qohorik ranks. In the chaos of the charge, the ominous war elephants advanced, creating a living wall of terror. Alexander's gaze locked onto the massive beast, which swung its truck with brutal intentions. Asturcus, Alexander's horse, reared back on his back legs, as if to challenge the larger elephant, before returning to a sprint as they weaved around the queer creatures. The clash of steel and the roars of the war elephants blended into a symphony of chaos, as in that moment Alexander could not hear anything. Suddenly, tragedy struck. An enemy arrow found its mark, piercing the throat of Ser Raynald Smallwood, Alexander's beloved uncle, who fell from his horse with a heavy thud. The prince's heart sank, as he almost stopped his charge to check on his uncle but he knew he could not falter... Especially since deep down, he knew his uncle was lost to him now. Revenge fueled his every move as he pressed forward, determined to avenge his fallen kin. The grief-laden battle raged on, and just as Alexander closed in on Vargo Mott, the war horn from the West bellowed its triumphant call. A volley of arrows descended from the sky, striking the Qohorik ranks and several elephants. House Rogare of Lys, summoned to aid Alexander, had arrived as timely reinforcements. Captain Lysander of the Threes, bearing the sigil of House Rogare, led his forces with precision, their arrows finding their mark amidst the tumult of war. Finally reaching the summit, thanks to the Rogare arrows, Alexander confronted Vargo Mott amidst the chaos. Their eyes locked, each man recognizing the significance of this moment. The clash of their blades became a dance of death, a contest of skill and determination. Mott, a mystery of a man, even to the best spy masters, was without his usual helmet and for the first time Westerosi soldiers saw the Black Goat of Death. Alexander was surprised to see a large, white brushy mane of hair atop Vargo's head. He was a man no younger than forty five, with the scars of war deep across his face. This was the deadliest opponent Alexander had ever encountered, and without his uncle by his side, he felt the weight of the Realm upon him. He then thought of what his uncle told him once, as they were training, on a warm summer’s day, around the tournament grounds of Stone Hedge. Raynald watched as Alexander failed again to hit his mark, his arrow always pulling right. Frustrated, the young boy threw his bow to the ground. “What's the point?” He bemoaned. Raynald walked over to his nephew and picked up the bow, while also grabbing a single arrow. “The point, my boy,” he said as he raised up and set his mark on the target. “Is to never give up, never allow fear and panic to dictate your next move.” Just then, he released his pull and like a bolt of lightning, struck the center mark. Alexander, no more than 12, smiled at his Uncle, “Show off,” he said jokingly. Raynald smiled, “Well, at least we are fortunate that Aegor the Great didn't have your inert senses, otherwise the Century of Blood would still be ongoing,” he put his arm around Alex and gave him a loving squeeze. Raynald then got down to Alexander's level, looked the boy in the eyes and spoke with a stern warning. "Success always demands a greater effort, a sacrifice that cannot be understated. Do you understand me, boy?” Alexander, with a nervous shrug, “I don't know.” “Just remember my words, Alex,” Raynald said. With his uncle now dead and the horror’s of war all around him again, Alexander Bracken finally understood what he meant by it. And for the first time in years, he felt pain. Mott, a wiry and cunning adversary, fought with a ferocity born of desperation. His strikes were swift and unpredictable, forcing Alexander to rely on his years of training and battlefield instincts. The clash between their weapons reverberated, a testament to the high stakes of their duel. Like a tournament of lists, both men rode at each other, charging towards their destiny, their horses bloodied and bruised like themselves. In the dying light, Bracken's blade found its mark. With a swift and decisive strike, the duel reached its climax when Alexander, fueled by grief and a burning desire for vengeance, severed the head of Vargo Mott from his shoulders. The Qohor leader's lifeless body crumpled to the ground from atop his horse, and a hush fell over the battlefield as the news of Mott's demise spread among his forces. As the flail-wielding tyrant fell, a wave of cheers erupted from Alexander's soldiers, as more and more forces from House Rogare continued to reinforce the area. Amidst the jubilation, the soldiers hailed him as the "King of Bloodstone," a title that resonated with the crimson hue of his banner and the blood spilled in the conquest. The cheers morphed into a unified chant of "Bloodstone," echoing through the Stepstones as a victorious celebration unfolded. Alexander, standing amidst the triumph and mourning, raised his sword in a silent tribute to his fallen uncle and the sacrifices made. The title of Bloodstone, born in the crucible of battle, now marked the beginning of a new legend in the tumultuous history of the Stepstones. The Stepstones, stained with the blood of countless fallen, witnessed the changing tides of power. Alexander “Bloodstone” Bracken, victorious but weary, surveyed the battlefield, knowing that the struggle for dominion in these disputed lands was far from over. The battle was over but he knew the war for the Stepstones would continue, and the Isles would remain a coveted prize for those hungry for conquest. WHAT WE LEAVE BEHIND (The Epilogue) Alexander, feeling both the triumph of victory and the unsteady discomfort of his wounds, slowly retreated to his makeshift tent, where he was quickly nursed and made comfortable by his servants and Maesters. But soon he told everyone to leave him alone. Alexander, his nerves shot, adrenaline still coursing through his veins, sitting on a small cot, still clad in bloodied armor, he was overcome by the weight of the battle. The trauma of losing his uncle, a man he regarded as a father, overcame him at that moment, a pain he had never felt before, deep in his heart Alone in the midst of celebration, Alexander wept silently. The toll of war, the loss of Raynald, and the burden of his leadership and his deadly condition, felt like a crushing boulder. The victorious and drunken cheers of his soldiers became a distant hum as he grappled with the emotional aftermath of the brutal clash and the loss of his Uncle. Alexander knew he could never fight again, his body was beaten, not only from the battle but from the plague that was slowly killing him from the inside out. All he wanted was Jenelle and his boy, he wanted to be safe again. (Also now that Vargo Mott is dead, a decision myself and Gaming Snake agreed upon, Snake will be reincarnated at Black Fort as House Blackstone)
Time to Act
Free City of Lys | CoenquistatoreOnly a dim, near imperceptible flicker of light could be seen shining through the green windows of the Emerald Palace's highest tower: that was the only evidence, although minimal, of the frenetic activity of the once grandest man of Lys, Moredo Rogare. Hiding or imprisoned in the dusty astronomical study of his eccentric father, Moredo shivered. Was it rage? Was it worry? Or something else, something that he secretly held quite close to his heart, without ever revealing it to the other men of the world? Was it FEAR? "I've not seen you like this since the birth of your son, Moredo. What a poor sight you are... I knew you wouldn't become much in this world, but such a disappointment, for a Rogare, I would never have imagined." "I was never enough for you, Father! What was your legacy? If not the same mountain of debts the old Rogares swam through most of their miserable lives?! I restored our family's Bank! I became Magister FOR LIFE!" A river of tears and sweat poured over Moredo's cheeks. "Exactly, my foolish boy: for Life. Do you think the cutthroats that you trust so much would have given you absolute power without having a failsafe? You are not made of Valyrian steel..." "And yet one of your bastards is brandishing Truth on the battlefield at this very moment, helping the Westerosi against Essos... What will be of your own legacy, Moredo? The Council failed, your power is nil and you cannot even control your sons... tsk tsk tsk... never distrust an astronomer's prediction: we always know when the sun will set." No more words uttered from the shattered man. But no more tears, either. Moredo looked up to his father's portrait one last time, and blew out the candle. It was time to act.
A Key Decision for the Faith
High Septa Caelia | Shinigami KnightAs the sun cast its golden rays atop the towering walls of Casterly Rock, Caelia gracefully dismounted her horse, greeted by the gentle morning breeze. "What a splendid day," she remarked, her eyes drinking in the breathtaking sight of the sunrise. Turning to the guards, she expressed her gratitude for their care and protection, her words accompanied by a playful smile that seemed to enchant those around her. Despite their insistence on providing her with an escort to the gates of the fort, Caelia politely declined, her confidence in familiar surroundings evident. After a brief exchange, the guards respected her decision, and she offered a short prayer for their safe return before setting off on her solitary walk. As she made her way through the bustling streets of Casterly Rock, whispers and gasps followed in her wake, reverent eyes falling upon her with awe and admiration. The mere mention of her name sent waves of excitement and anticipation through the city, uplifting the spirits of all who heard it. Upon reaching the gates of the castle, she was greeted by a jubilant crowd eager to welcome her return. With a gracious wave of her hand and a warm smile, she acknowledged their enthusiasm before striding purposefully toward Septon Green. "Your Majesty, I am overjoyed to see you return," he began, his words cut short by her interruption. "Forgive me, dearest, but urgent matters require my attention," she interjected gently. Septon Green nodded in understanding, realizing the weight of her words. "Yes, m'lady. Our 'guests' are still in discussion. Shall I—" "That won't be necessary. I know the way," she assured him, her resolve unwavering. As she strode confidently through the corridors of the castle, anticipation hung in the air, hinting at the weighty deliberations to come. With each step, Caelia knew that the outcome of the discussion with the King would not only shape the immediate course of events but could also hold the key to the future of the faith itself.
The Holy Hundred's Hollow Sanctuary, Continued
House Targaryen | Kingdom of the Andals | Steffi the RedheadJaehaera prepares for the next tournament (that's the morning workout) and signs papers regarding the Stormlands and the new sept in Hollow Sanctuary. The groundwork seems to be done and the first timber scaffolding is ready. The lumberjacks from Williswood are meeting their quota and the stone masons have established routes from the BEST stone mines. (You all know which I mean of course. Everyone knows them.) By the way: the groundwork included the old cave. It will be part of the Sept and a place of silent contemplation (in contrast to the big room for sermons and choir and sitting benches and Seven altars and stuff). So anyone who wants can already pray in the Hollow Sanctuary. Jaehaera stops for that every time she travels to House Wensingtone to discuss something about the Stormlands. Because Baron Wensingtone has become a quite important figure since the war.
Dothraki Seas, Continued
Free City of Lorath | SentryBanyani winced as the camp's stand-in doctor dressed his wounds. He hadn't suffered any major injuries save for a deep gash above his right eye. Some of his men were injured and unfortunately a few refugees were killed in the panic. Banyani dreaded his return home believing this to be his last command. It seemed just as his men finally established an orderly system in the camp that the crisis began. Banyani had earned the trust of the refugees, keeping them fed and moving them to Limaosy at a steady rate. This trust seemingly evaporated all at once when the news that Norvos had fallen reached the camp. Banyani had attempted to restore order but believing the Dothraki were on the way caused them to rush the pass. He and the militia took up blunt weapons hoping to reduce casualties and for most part it did. The majority of the refugee deaths were caused by trampling. The militia were driven from their camp, luckily advance units of the National Army had arrived preventing the refugees from spreading out into the valley. Banyani was ordered to travel to Shalorath to debrief Admiral Bahin; he expected to be dismissed for failing to hold his position. Free City of Norvos | Bio
The Dothraki have been generous and let many escape the capital. Though Norvos has fallen. The occupation is planned to be only temporary. A few brave and reckless souls chose to defy the orders of our elders to leave and stood in the way of the Dothraki horde. They lived, but maybe at the cost of true peace with the Dothraki. The High Priest of Norvos has been silent since the agreement with the Dothraki took effect. We pray to the gods for good fortune and that Norvos and the holy lands will be returned in time.
Aftermath
House Stark | Kingdom of the North | Knight(This will be my final rp as Lyanna, with this taking place starting around the time of the Treaty of Hornwood going on into the present day as of this turn.) The Queen of The North, a title truly undisputed now that she had secured peace with the Vale in a way that preserved the whole of the North and as many lives as possible, seemed to require rest after the parlay. She slept the entire carriage ride back to Winterfell, though it didn't stop there.. Following the war Lyanna could often be found taking frequent naps, or at least she seemed to be sleeping. Very few found her in this state, though even if kept secret it could not be avoided that her presence was sparse in the court of Winterfell. This went on for several weeks before it suddenly stopped altogether, and only the Maester immediately knew what was happening during this time. Meanwhile, the Mormont forces deployed to work in tandem with House Flint during the war did not leave when the war ended. Instead they received orders from Queen Lyanna for Maria that were to be carried out in her capacity as Hand of the Queen. Maria led her men east on these orders, to the Ruins of Ramsgate. It was there that the soldiers would assist in the clearing of the port and the rebuilding of the structure, though they wouldn't be acting alone. The Mormont army was relatively small in number but House Mormont has always claimed their people to have the strength of 10 mainlanders and to some extent that would be proven here with their work ethic and stamina as construction workers. But even stranger still was the sight of the three large bears that traveled with the army, almost always following close behind Lady Maria. This sight had become normal to the soldiers of these units themselves, but even they were surprised when the work began and one of the bears was helping. With great speed and seemingly working in harmony with the other workers, the bear would haul debris out of the ruins, or stone blocks to rebuilding sites. It would even help break down rubble that was too large to place effectively into carts. It was surely a sight to behold, as the progress of the rebuilding efforts was drastically boosted by a single creature. The other bears would not go without contributing either, with both of them pulling carts too heavy for the horses, but that was not nearly as strange to witness. This went on for weeks, the men and bears working tirelessly through the day and resting at night.. Though curiously the working bear would take frequent breaks through the day, and then at night would work harder than ever until dawn. When the port was finally complete, the symbol of a bear holding a stone brick was placed over the gate into the fort in honor of this strange creature that had helped them so much, and later the same symbol would be placed over the main gate of the city that was planned to be built around the fort. Further, they would go on to call the rebuilt port "Bearsgate". Maria and her "children" remain in the area after the initial construction, continuing to help with cleanup, and though she receives much praise for her control over the bears she raised, she seems just as confused by the actions of the Working Bear.
Report Date
29 Feb 2024
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