Season 4, Turn 43

Days 1 - 15 of the Tenth Moon, 421 AC

General Summary

Dothraki Seas, Continued

  The Thenns | Mista Sista
In a confounding move, the Dothraki horde diverts from their warpath towards Pentos. Prince Fenrir Eagling takes his army to Sylverpit to accept a vital shipment of supplies from the narrow sea. With war engulfing the seas to the north, Fenrir has taken advantage of the new alliances he has built in Essos to secure fresh clothing, armor repairs, bedrolls, and food for his men. He is prepared for any eventuality, even if that means facing the Dothraki alone.   North in Pentos, the Lysene army has finally arrived. Their commander, a man named Lysander, made a pit stop in Sylverpit to meet with the young general of the Thenns, providing well wishes and vital military information.   The Mercenaries who held Pentos beforehand have given control to Lys for the time being after an overwhelming display of force. Tensions are still high among the coalition forces, but these tensions will have to be resolved at a later date.   Free City of Lorath | Sentry
General Banyani felt relief as his men paraded through the city of Darkbridge. The settlement's capture was one of the most crucial objectives of the campaign. With it, supplies and men could be quickly ferried down the Darkwash River to wherever they were needed. Luckily, the Dothraki left the city intact, allowing the army to quickly reopen the docks.   Despite this success, there was to be no rest for the army. He figured that it would be any day that a letter would arrive recalling them to the capital. If they weren't recalled to fight the Andals, he felt the Dothraki waited just around the corner, ready to strike. Banyani and his command staff had spent many late nights drawing plans for each possibility. He hoped they would not be needed, but the world was seldom at peace these days.

All Eyes on the Vale, Continued

  House Mormont | Kingdom of the North | Knight
The army gathered along the Broken Shore finds ships already prepared for them in Bearsgate and Port Tyria. Some are simple ships hastily built by the locals, others were already here when they arrived and purchased at a discount, and others still were purchased and brought in from White Harbor. Before long the Sword of Winter and his people embark on their new fleet which quickly fills Broken Branch Outlet. Like before, the flags flown by this fleet are simple light grey cloths with no sigil.   The fleet stirs for days, as the men and women aboard stewed in their rage, anticipating the fight ahead.. but the Sword of Winter was not bloodthirsty. The goal was to bring about justice for the families that were broken up by the Vale's invasion of the North, but even as they prepared for bloodshed Jorah knew there was another way. For three days before the fleet was gathered, Jorah had kept to himself in a chamber within the castle of Bearsgate, and at the end of it several ravens were released that quickly made their way to various parts of the Vale. Though Jorah knows that the people cannot be contained for long... If no response is received, the fleet will move as if the response was negative.   House Costayne | Kingdom of the Andals | sandman
After the long march from Wolf's Den, Armstead and his men board ships at West Bite. Passage was costly, but needed for access to the islands north of the Vale. His orders were to secure and clear them before making for the mainland. His forces slowed by the lack of ships and even more so the landing craft needed as the ports on the islands are fortified and ready to be burnt when they are taken his scouts inform him. He considers his options as he prays to the Seven that the Vale will consider negotiating. He may not like fighting those he has recently fought beside, however the Knights of the Vale are famous for their valor in battle and that alone pique’s Armstead's interests. A worthy opponent to cross blades with since coming north. His men were ready and rested after the war with the wildlings ended moons ago. He has found even some of the converted wildlings have joined his numbers. Only time will tell if they are spies or true in their faith.   House Bracken | Kingdom of the Andals | Jack Handy
~After receiving a raven from ----------, The Stone Crows of the Vale, prepare to attack the Bracken army. They're unaware of the Parley of Jamie Corbray's surrender but even if they knew, they would probably still attack. As the attack begins, a small group of Corbray troops at The Black Ears valley, hear the cries of barbarians... It turns out the Vale Tribes plan to kill everything possible.   House Piper | Kingdom of the Andals | {N.W.} Blader
[In King's Landing one month ago]
Lord Paramount Henry Piper stood in the courtyard of the Red Keep as the sun stood high in the sky above him. After the King's declaration of war against the Vale in his latest campaign to unite the Andals, Henry would have originally taken it upon himself to be the one to personally advocate for peace like he had always done, however this time during his efforts to negotiate, his uncle was taken hostage. This pushed him to mobilize his house's guard for war, and march them straight from his lands to the Bloody Gate.   After watching his men finish securing the last of the load for their travel, they began to ride north through King's Landing towards the Gate of the Gods. As he passed by the Alchemists Guild, the Head of the Guild, Wisdom Rickard, stepped forward out of the crowd in front of it and walked up to Lord Henry's cart.   "My Lord Hand, may I have a moment of your time?" the old man called out. He is a tall and lean old man, with a notable burn mark covering most of his right hand. His hair was hidden in a cap covering his head, however a trimmed white beard with only a handful of hairs visible.   Henry waved for his carriage to be stopped, opening its ash grey door and stepping out to meet the man who called for him. After seeing Wisdom Rickard, he took a second before speaking. "I presume you to be Wisdom Rickard, yes?" Henry said briefly, his words lacking the reassuring tone he often employs when speaking with others of a standing.   The old man straightened his posture in surprise, he did not expect to be known by the Hand of the King. "Yes my Lord Hand, I am surprised you are aware of someone such as myself. I have not yet had the chance to introduce myself to you, how did you know it was I?" the man asked.   Henry stood tall on the step of his carriage, the added height causing him to stand tall over the old hunchback man. "Your burnt hand tells me you are one who handles fire, however the fact that your beard remains mostly unscathed leads me to believe you are adept in your craft. Add to it that you stopped me just outside of the Alchemists Guild and I am led to believe you are its Guild master." Henry boastfully said. Without saying another word, he stepped back into his carriage, but holding open the door to it. "Join me as I ride for the gate, Wisdom Rickard. I wish not to be delayed."   Hesitating for only a moment from the surprise of his invitation inside, Wisdom Rickard quickly jumped forward towards the ornate wooden carriage. Once inside and having sat down, Henry pulled a rope to his side, a bell rang once and then the carriage began to move again. "So tell me Wisdom Rickard, what is it you wished to speak with me about today?" Henry asked, his tone only half interested as his war plans brewed in his head.   "Ah yes, not a moment to waste, I understand." he said with a nervous laugh, the stress of the man visible. "I requested to speak with you as it is a matter of urgency for the guild that I carry. The Guild I am afraid has been caught in a period of decay these last few years. Since his Grace King Otho-" Wisdom Rickard cut himself off, catching his words before he potentially said something that could be offensive.   "Long may he reign of course, *nervous chuckle*, but since he liberated the city and saved the Kingdom, the guild has not had much of anything to sustain it. Under Queen Visenya we enjoyed many privileges including patronage from the crown, however with King Otho, we no longer enjoy such privileges. Not only that, but our tax exemptions have been taken away from us. These actions have forced us to spend what little stockpile of gold he had. Now however we are nearly empty, and with the new war against the Vale having been declared, I fear that we will not be able to survive much longer." Wisdom Rickard pleaded, making sure he did not undersell the direness of the Guild's predicament.   Henry listened on as the Guildmaster spoke, holding his head ajar with his first two fingers and thumb. "Indeed it seems that your guild will collapse soon doesn't it? what is it you wish to ask of me?" Henry said, repeating his previous question, however more directly this time.   "Yes of course, My Lord Hand. I wish to ask of you and the crown to only restore tax exemption privileges. I do not wish to be greedy, especially in these times of war, as I know they place great burdens on the Kingdoms coffers. I only ask that our tax exemption be restored so it may allow us to continue to at least survive. I believe we may be able to speak with the Rogare Bank and secure a loan for gold. I believe that much would allow us to continue our experiments until we are able to find patronage." Wisdom Rickard said with a false optimism.   Henry thought for a moment, his mind split between Wisdom Rickard’s words and his war planning. He then quickly responded in an emotionless voice typical of a bureaucrat. "Yes I believe the crown can restore your tax exemption, at least until the guild is able to find sponsorship for its experime-" Henry's eyes shot down and to the left in thought as he suddenly cut himself off. A line of thought suddenly rushed into his mind like the waters of the Trident after it rains. His eyes quickly returned to the Guildmaster as his thoughts organized in his mind.   "Tell me Wisdom, does the Guild still experiment with the substance?" Henry asked with an unmasked curiosity.   Wisdom Rickard cocked his head to the side in surprise at Henry's question. "Why yes my Lord Hand, it is one of the few experiments we still maintain in these times."   Henry lifted his head from his hand, a slight smirk having appeared on his face. "Wisdom Rickard I believe you will like my words. I will restore your guild's Tax Exemption."   "You will? This is wonderful! Thank you my Lord Hand!" Wisdom Rickard said with jubilant glee. He was however cut off when Henry raised a hand to silence him.   "However, it will only last until the end of this current war. All shall be fairly treated in this Kingdom. However I have another piece of information for you. You shall receive your patronage as you did before from Queen Visenya, however I personally will be your SOLE patron, understood?" Henry said, placing strong emphasis on his words. He wanted to make certain his words.   Caught aback by shock, Wisdom Rickard struggled to gather his words. "Why yes, of course my Lord Hand. This is more than I could have imagined today."   "Yes I suppose celebrations are in order for the Guild, but not yet. I have need of you now." Henry said, applying his subtle softness to his words that he is known for.   "Of course my Lord Hand, how may the Guild be of service for you?" The Guildmaster said in a humble manor, making sure to appease Lord Henry's every request.   Henry eyed Wisdom Rickard for a moment, both men being jerked in the carriage as it rolled over a rut in the cobbled road. "I want the guild to gather its stores of The Substance. You and a company of your members shall gather them and make for my camp at Castle Derry. You shall have a company of my men to escort you there. Make sure the substance is well prepared and concealed."   "Yes my Lord Hand, it will be done at once with great haste from us all." Wisdom Rickard said with a strong and knowing assurance.   Henry would then reach to pull the rope next to him and rang the bell once again. The carriage would come to a stop, and Henry would move to open the door for Wisdom Rickard. Without another word spoken, Wisdom Rickard would step out of the carriage, closing the door behind himself, and a bell would ring as the carriage would again begin to move.

Fever Dream of a Thenn

  The Thenns | Mista Sista
For some time now, the legendary general Magnar Brittlefang has been missing, having sailed into the cold, dilapidated ruins of Volantis in search of...something. Now more than ever, Fenrir yearns for his father's leadership. The veterans argue and bicker about the right course of action. To clear his mind, Fenrir has isolated himself more and more in his private quarters, communing with his eagle. Closing his eyes, he sinks his claws into his prey, sighted and captured from hundreds of feet in the air. The blood tastes good. The ripping and the tearing feels good. Flying above them all, like puny little ants in his gaze, unaware that he could slaughter them in a second, that feels good.   He finds himself soaring high in the air over an unknown hamlet, when he feels something whiz by his wing, clipping him. It's a sharp, vicious pain, and it sends him spiraling a dozen feet before he regains his balance. Looking below he spots a peasant armed with a bow and arrow, likely looking for a solid meal in lean times.   Instantly, Fenrir remembers what it feels like to kill or be killed, transported back to his fateful name day when he fought against the pack of wolves. He lets instinct take over. In a fraction of a second, he feels his claws sink into the man. The blood turns his shirt red. His screams pierce the fields. His beak tears into the neck of the hunter, and he feasts. He looks up to see a woman and a boy staring in horror, and he feels good.   Fenrir opens his eyes, breaking his meditation. He can still taste the blood in his mouth, and it fills him with a sick pleasure he had never experienced before. It feels good.

The Holy Hundred's Hollow Sanctuary, Continued

  Free City of Pentos | PatMagroyn
A caravan of artisans arrive in Hollow Sanctuary. There to add their immaculate craft to the Greatest Sept, a building that comes ever closer and closer to fruition in the Stormlands.   Hailing from a guild in Oldtown, they tell the workers they have been commissioned by House Swann to install several stained glass murals.   One large art piece displays the physical heraldry of House Targaryen, Dalt, Bracken, and Septa Caelia amidst a crowd of pious devotees. Another depicts Visenya building her great wall, alongside Jaehaera building her great sept. And seven smaller pieces depict various aspects of the Seven who are One.   Just one more gift that brings the workers closer to the Sept’s completion.   House Targaryen | Kingdom of the Andals | Steffi the Redhead
The name of House Swann seems to be rising again. I appreciate the dedication towards The Seven.

Wedding Nuptials of the Seven

  House Targaryen | Kingdom of the AndalsSteffi the Redhead
A raven flies to a certain well known Septa, carrying a small letter. It's confidential, but somehow several spies get their hand on the letter.  
My Dearest Septa Caelia,   Would you do me the great honor of officiating my forthcoming union with Lord Henry Piper? You have long been my esteemed mentor and cherished friend, and it would mean the world to me to have you lead our ceremony.   Our marriage is to be solemnized within the grand confines of The greatest Sept, once its hallowed halls have been completed. In this sacred space, we hope to commence our journey together, guided by your blessings and the light of The Seven.   With deepest respect and heartfelt affection,
— Princess Jaehaera
  High Septa Caelia | Shinigami Knight
Caelia was in the Sept's garden in Lannisport, trimming the roses with delicate precision. The bright day mirrored her serene focus as she nurtured the strong blooms. As she finished tending a particularly stubborn bush, a servant approached, bowing respectfully before handing her a sealed letter. Recognizing the delicate script as Princess Jaehaera's, she wiped her hands and broke the seal.   Reading the heartfelt request, her heart swelled with affection. Setting the letter aside, she moved to a nearby bench, where she kept a small writing desk for moments like this. Taking up her quill, she began to write her reply.

Death of Pentos

  Free City of Pentos | PatMagroyn
“I am ending the Great Agreement. There is no longer a need for senators. Nor a need for Consuls. Pentos need only one hand guide it-“   Consul Navio sat in shock. As she repeated herself, the other Pentoshi senators present only gazed upon the woman with pity.   “Princess Ellyria, why don’t you retire?” Magister Groleo spoke up, looking to others for support. “I know these troubled times are taxing, and assuredly taking a toll on your health. The Senate can discuss what-“   “I AM the Senate.”   Ellyria’s voice silenced the room, words loudly echoing off the chamber’s walls. Groleo stared at her bewildered. “Wha-“   “On the Night of Purple and Gold, my father gave you all a choice. And I am telling you all you must make that choice again. Bow, and acknowledge that I alone rule Pentos. And I will repay your pledge with more riches than you can imagine.”   Navio didn’t understand. His recent councils with Ellyria had been uneventful. Yesterday, no different than the last. This didn’t make any sense. She was as prideful as the Banker was, yes. But this…was not pride. This was sheer lunacy.   “Riches? You mean rubble?” Magister Sarys now quipped. “What’s the point woman? What is there to be gained from this? We’ll all be dead soon enough anyway.” Murmurs broke out throughout the Hall.   “No, we won’t. Or at least, I won’t,” she coldly spoke over them. “And neither will you. If you swear your loyalty, and relinquish your titles to me before R’hllor.”   “I’ll say it: You’re mad. But fine. What does everyone here say? Let’s put it to a vote,” Sarys laughed.   Had losing her father, or the threat of the Dothraki, made her mad? No. Consul Navio was sure it hadn’t. He had watched her work too closely these past weeks to believe that could be true. So why was Horro’s daughter doing this? What would cause this act to make sense to her?   “There will be no vote. This is your last chance. Kneel. Now.”   Navio noticed three senators actually did so this time. Even with only a quarter of the Senate remaining in the city, three senators were next to nothing. But.   The Consul spotted Magister Ordello among them. One of Horro’s most loyal dogs. And yet…Ordello wasn’t one to just follow blindly. And he had never been fond of Ellyria. And it was then Navio’s eyes grew wide, as he fathomed how long ago this coup had perhaps been orchestrated. How serious it was.   “And if we say no? Do you perhaps plan to ask Lys’ mercenaries to chain us?” Groleo spoke up. “They are solely here to defend us from the Dothraki. They are not your private army-“   “Is that what you heard? Is that what you think?” Ellyria answered him.   Navio could hold his tongue no longer as the words sent a chill down his spine. “Ellyria! This is an affront to everything the Free Cities stand for! What this City stands for! Her people! Don’t destroy the last shreds of dignity your father left us! Put a stop to this now!”   She stared back at him coldly, before uttering one last word.   “Hrakkar!”   Everyone fell silent once more as the doors to the Senate Hall creaked open, revealing a single man. Though his sharp, almond eyes were hidden beneath long strands of sun-bleached hair, any could see the intent they held.   “Kill everyone not on their knees. That still right?” asked the Captain of the Company of the Cat, curved blade already unsheathed as he walked in.   Several senators had already jumped from their seats and were sprinting for the other end of the Hall as he asked. Ellyria nodded to the man as she passed him.   “Bring down the claw!” Hrakkar boomed as the other set of senate doors were thrown open. And as several dozen sellswords now poured through both entrances, Navio stood still. Still wondering…what this accomplished. Why?   “Then the die is cast,” Navio spoke last. “This is the death of Pentos-“

Braavos Gone Wild

  Free City of Lorath | Sentry
News of the wild animal attacks in Braavos have caused the public's imagination to run wild. Stories of the creature vary from it being the vengeful spirit of “The Butcher” to an adolescent dragon stalking the inner city ruins. City officials have yet to make an official response, though many treasure hunters have promised to take down the beast.

Comments

Please Login in order to comment!