Season 4, Turn 44
Days 16 - 30 of the Tenth Moon, 421 AC
General Summary
All Eyes on the Vale, Continued
House Bracken | Kingdom of the Andals | Jack Handy~ The Stone Crows attack on the Bracken Royal army was successful... at first. After initially catching Otho and his armies off guard, the better trained and equipped Riverland army were able to hold their lines and by night fall, cut through the Vale Tribesmen, until the last one was dead on the grassy valley floor ~With word that Jamie Corbray and his main vassals were rejecting the terms of surrender to King Otho, many other minor houses within the Vale were disappointed, as they believed the war was already lost. Then word spread of a Northern army known as the Winter Wolves. They were about to take Pebble, the most important fortress in the Bite. And then word spread like wildfire that orders were made to destroy Gulltown… With the only port city in the Kingdom gone, the outcry was deafening. ~House Templeton of Ninestars, one of the most powerful Knightly Houses in the Vale, was the first to declare for Otho Bracken. Soon after, several more minor houses did the same. House Corbray | Kingdom of the Vale | Prince Nyunyu
A War To Lose
Jamie was in his encampment when he heard the news, news of all kinds - good, bad, very bad. He really thought that he could have defended the Vale from Bracken. The strong fleet the Vale had, while the natural borders that defended the Vale made it very, very hard to be conquered, however, the threat of the North attacking the Vale was disappointing. Even though the Vale and the North didn't hold the best relationship, he thought that the Northern men would be more clever. Bracken had literally sent his entire army to the Vale. The Iron fleet should now be near the Crownlands. The North missed the opportunity to gain control of the Iron Islands again. The news of a Northern army marching towards Pebble Island without awaiting an answer to their request, hurt him, but didn't surprise him. His wife would tell him that the people of the North had become more stupid since they merged with the wildings, however he didn't think like that and his wife was already far away. He then thought about "The Last King of the Vale," the title that some of his soldiers gave to him, not with a tone of regret, rather a tone of being honored to fight along with him. The King was surprised by the attitude of most nobles to decide to fight and die with their King, rather than surrender and bend the knee to a foreign King. He thought to himself "I was called the Courageous, indeed it seems I inspired courage in some men." Surprisingly, one of the first news he received is that Tribesmen of The Stone Crows decided to attack the outsider armies. He was sure that the tribemen weren't loyal to him, but they sure would prefer that the King of the Vale was somebody from the Vale. The next news he heard was about the fall of Gulltown; he got goosebumps. Gulltown was the largest city of the Vale... and now gone? He could understand why Lord Baelish did it. We have all accepted defeat, we have literally nothing to lose, that made us very very dangerous, and Lord Baelish, well he was known by the surname of the Black Death and truly somebody I wouldn't like to fight. However Bracken's conquest had been much more costly than he would have expected "I didn't Imagine that Bracken had such large armies… and now most of them are dead at the bottom of the deep sea of the Bay of Crabs. How many people have died there? 100,000 men? 200,000? 500,000?" Truly a number he couldn't imagine. And now Gulltown was lost, it seems that Bracken will lose more in this war than gain anything on it. At Pebble Island there was a monument to those fallen at the last war between the Vale and the North, now it seemed a joke. In two and a half months, Bracken's army had already lost more men than what the Vale lost in the whole war against the North. And apart from Gulltown, Bracken will also lose the rule of the Islands of the Vale, that will mean the total loss of naval power of the Vale, and their economy will be affected. Also the cost of the war will be higher after hearing that the King of the Andals couldn't stop the Riots of King's Landing and that they are spreading. "He will be no longer the King of the Andals; now he will be King of Ashes, he didn't learn anything from the Targaryen" Maybe the Lords of the Vale will not win the war, however, now they made it clear that they will not let Bracken win it either. The Last King of the Vale, after hearing the news... went to his tend to prepare himself to march. "There is still a War to Lose." House Mormont | Kingdom of the North | Knight
As per the letter sent to all in the Vale, the Winter Wolves set sail towards Pebble Island soon after the ravens were released from Bearsgate. Just as they proclaimed, it was only about a week before they had reached the halfway point thanks to fortunate winds and constant rowing. From there they would sail slowly to regain their strength and keep a low profile, estimated to arrive at the shores of the Island by the end of the Month. Again, just as predicted by Jorah in his letters to the Vale. There was still no answer from the Vale Lords, and yet their silence could not curb the fury of the people. If anything they were only emboldened by it. Here they were, their hearts and souls bared for the world to see as they sailed across the Bite, and yet they were not even worth the simplest of replies. They were about to take the very island that caused King Jamie to launch a full scale invasion of the North over, and yet now it was like the island didn't exist to them in the face of their own lands being invaded by House Bracken. It was infuriating, but the people would use that. They would embrace the void in their hearts as they steeled themselves for the fight to come. Meanwhile more ships leave the docks of Widow's Watch and Karport, sailing South. Though Jorah did not visit these locations, they all fly the light grey flag of the Winter Wolves. It seems word had spread like wildfire, and surprising movements were made because of it. No one knows who leads these new fleets, with rumors abound of the possibilities, but it is clear what their purpose is regardless. The North Remembers, The Wolves Remind. House Corbray | Kingdom of the Vale | Prince Nyunyu
The Dawn of the Lezehrq
The sun hadn't risen yet when Sophie woke up, last night they reached The Gateway, however she hadn't made any preparation yet, so now she had to do it. She and the Masters had been working to solve all the issues that this travels could have, most important was the identity, their identity must be kept secret, she will no longer be Sophie Corbray, neither Sophie Baelish, she now will be known as Laenya zo Lezehrq from the Valyrian Island of the Slave's Bay, Elyria. The Masters found that telling people they were from Elyria could help them a lot, Elyria was a Valyrian city, however it was heavily influenced by the New Ghiscari, who ruled the most importants city of the Slave's Bay. Elyria was also quite isolationist, so the world truly knows very little about Elyria. This could help them to adapt the accent of their Valyrian tongue. Sophie will "pretend" she is a Widow from his former husband, a rich Ghiscari, who died after having some issues in business, to avoid problems when the family left their homeland. It was actually very easy to remember their history, as it would only be changing a couple of names, but the history was mostly the same as in real life. Sophie shaved her head, she always liked her hair, but apparently at the Slave's Bay, it was fashionable that women were bald. She put purple makeup around her eyes, she had to remember no to cry, the make up could be spoiled. She dressed with a purple dress they got from Meereen, she never felt so uncomfortable, she almost felt naked with all those gaps the dress had, showing her belly and her back, "Even the whores of King's Landing look more dencent than me!!". When the sun rose, she woke up her little boy, he was deeply sleeping, his brown hair was shining, however he should not look from the Vale, and she dyed his hair with a strange cream they bought at Lorathin on their way to their new home, now his hair was black and dense. Now he is no longer Nyunyu, second of his name. He is now Haerax zo Lezehrq, and he will have to learn their fake culture and their new culture, not an easy task for a kid of 3 years, and when he gets older he will be able to use the sword of his father. Not so long ago, Ser Terl Lynderly appeared in the Queen's room and in High Valyrian he said "Lady Laenya, “ they agreed to pretend to be their new characters, even when they were alone, just to force the habit. “Your daughter has woken up, the servants believe you should join her." Ser Terl decided to join the Queen's Journey, he wanted to protect her, it was his duty as royal guard. Now he was Zarneh Fernali, a slave that served the Queen. Along with him, some of the other knights, servants and Maesters pretended to be their slaves, however the Queen didn't find much difference as when they just served her, as free men and women. The almost 3 month old girl, will be known as Shael zo Lezehrq. It will be complicated for her to understand all the situation, she will tell her when he gets older. When they were from, who was his father, and who was his real father, her real name… It will be a shock for her, but what else could she do for her. House Bracken | Kingdom of the Vale | Jack Handy
~ Several Vale warships are sunk at the Bay of Pentos by the Royal Navy. After the short battle at sea, the Bracken ships watch from a safe distance as Pentos seemingly burns and thrives all at once. House Banefort | Kingdom of the Andals | Nyron
~ The Iron Fleet, led by Lord Tyrus Banefort aboard his capital ship, the Iron Dawn, has arrived in Northern Blackwater Bay. Upon further order from King Otho Bracken, the Iron Fleet is now sailing northeast to Crackclaw Waters.
Death of Pentos, Continued
Khal Hazdahn | Eddy*Khal Kraluh had never believed that negotiation could be this powerful. Coming from the most warlike family among the Dothraki, he could scarce believe it when, after days of ravens and messengers, the gates to Pentos were thrown wide before him. For the first time in recorded history, the Dothraki were greeted with cheers and flowers instead of screams and blades.* “I could get used to this,” the Khal thought before banishing the idea from his mind as weak *Weakness and stability are not the way of the Dothraki. When offered a proposition that would lead to the Khal becoming the greatest warlord to ever live, truly the Stallion that mounted the World, he barely negotiated before agreeing. As his bride to be knelt at his feet in Dothraki fashion before the assembled nobles of Pentos and Dothraki tribal chieftains and presented him with Arakh, the famed blade of Valyrian Steel, his roar of joy and triumph was the greatest passion he had ever felt.* Free City of Pentos | PatMagroyn
Couriers head for the largest of Essos’ ports to deliver this news. How Pentos still stands. How it now has a Dothraki Horde at its behest. Princess Ellyria of House Mopatis has been married to Khal Kraluh of the Hazdahn Khalasar. A union unheard of since Queen Daenerys I and her Dothraki groom. The ceremony was held in what is now known as Horro’s Square, as Ellyria orated it was his will that led to the boon for the City. The reception however was held outside Pentos’ walls. With Kraluh’s khalasar. Khal Kraluh was gifted the Valyrian arakh Qoy Samvi and a large zorse stallion from the Mopatis menagerie. At least twelve Dothraki died in the festivities of the event. But the most significant news brought by these criers, is that they refer to the wedding as the Birth of the New Freehold. The several hundred thousand Dothraki riders terrorizing Essos have now been joined by the hundred thousand mercenaries originally sent for Pentos’ defense. The New Freehold reaches out to all Free Cities. And all that accept its offers will be rewarded with the full strength the Freehold has to bear against their enemies. Without and within. Those that act with animosity will meet a similar fate to Captain Lysander of Lys. He, along with many Lysene Mariners, have reportedly been captured by the Company of the Cat inside Pentos. Along with their armaments, over a quarter of their navy, and all the gold they had charitably brought for Pentos’ very defense. The New Freehold, led by Khal Kraluh and Empress Ellyria, have vowed to create a new order that rivals Old Valyria. A legacy that will span for millennia. The new world order is here. Khal Hazdahn | Eddy
Part I: The Beginning of the End
*The greatest wedding Pentos has seen since that of Daenerys Targaryen has concluded. The Khalasar provision themselves and train, preparing for the coming war for Essos. Queen Mopatis has sent ravens to the Magistrates of Essos: Essos for the Essosi. All those on the continent will bend the knee and nod the head to the Queen of the Dothraki and her Khal. Together we will be strong. As the Dothraki prepare to excise disunity from Essos, the clouds begin to gather over those who refuse to bow.*
Memory Vaults of a Bracken
House Bracken | Kingdom of the Andals | JamhaloThe Kingsroad across the Riverlands was still beautiful. Otho could not recall how many times he had ridden it, but he could certainly remember his most famous ride… the first time he arrived in King’s Landing as its ruler. How times have changed. The fight for the city had been little and less, only garrisoned by some drunkards in the aftermath of Pentos bringing down the Queen’ fleet. Indeed, it was a quiet affair. It had to be, of course. The so-called Council of Kings, by then, was already in full swing. His plans, back then, were shrouded so deeply in darkness that his bannermen barely knew what was coming. Things are much simpler now. Those days had been filled with characters of such… vigor. Horro Mopatis and his spiteful daughter, Tom Costayne, the brave Jack Oakheart… the stringed dragon. He had been a dragon in the end, at least. Those days are over, though. The wars that will define my life concluded. This adventure into the Vale is nothing more than a foregone conclusion, my final conquest.
The ruined walls of Harrnehall approached faster than Otho expected. In spite of being the technical ‘Lord’ of the cursed castle, Otho had never stepped foot into that haunted place. That was one of the many lessons his father had taught him… never rule from that damned husk from the Seven Hells. Lyle Bracken had been a strong teacher, but certainly not a kind father. The mailed fist slammed into his stomach, sending the young Otho to the ground in a cry covered by his hand. “How can you be so foolish? My own blood, cursed by stupidity of unparalleled proportion in the history of our house.” Lyle was a large and cruel man. He wore his copper crown and chained armor at all times, even when behind the small walls of Stone Hedge. Wrath consumed him endlessly, always seeking something, or someone, to name at fault. Lyle paced over Otho, shouting endlessly. “House Justman? Why would my crown come from blood tainted by the Blackwoods?! The Justmans were weak, that is why the Hoares slew every last one of them. That is why I slew every last Blackwood. Remember that, boy! Save mercy for the strong, never the weak.” Otho barely stood back on his feet, his body still trembling as his father leaned over him. “Think this time, you half-wit. Why are you a Prince?” Otho stood in silence for what felt like an eternity before he managed a whisper. “I am your son.” Lyle sighed, and for a second Otho thought his face would receive the beating. He always aimed for the eyes the second time. “Precisely. I am King because I wear this crown and nobody can stop me. That is not the only reason, of course. Our lands are cursed to be at a crossroads of the other major realms, and they will always require a strong and steady hand. You must be strong after me, or you damn our family to be thralls of the Ironborn. Go train that weak arm of yours. You will need it.”
His father had been right in the end, he only wore a crown until Prince Aegar stopped him. That had been his mistake, perhaps. He feared krakens more than dragons. Otho knew from that day forth that the Riverlands were his responsibility, but the dragons would always have his respect. How couldn’t they? They proved their might. Harrenhal faded into the mists behind Otho, just as his painful memories did. Leaning to his side inside the royal carriage, Otho pulled Blackfyre out from its sheath, staring into the colors of the ancient blade. How can a piece of steel, Valyrian Steel of course, carry such strength? His house had never known the honor of bearing such steel before this blade. House Bracken was not a particularly noble house in history, nor one known for its victories. Endlessly intertwined in squabbles with the Blackwoods, only their absence, thanks to his father, cleared the path to greatness. Greatness earned by him, though! Weaves of schemes brought the Riverlands to the forefront, with endless victories on the battlefield to boot. Who could stand in front of him, now, and dare question what was earned? House Bracken will rule Westeros, including the damned Vale. It will need a strong hand. His brother will serve, aye. Jonos has always been reliable. House Bracken of the Eyrie, House Bracken of King’s Landing, House Bracken of Raventree Hall. Our history before this point will, in due time, be nothing more than the introduction to the greatest dynasty that Westeros has ever seen. Otho’s father was slain by a dragon. Now he is greater than them all.
Election Time in Lorath, Continued
Free City of Lorath | SentryAlways Vigilant/Illan Bahin
Rollo Bahin interrupted Illan in his study. He had been working on continuing the family chronicle, adding to the passage of his great uncle's term as Magister. His grandson presented a letter that had supposedly arrived from Pentos. “If you need me to tell you that it's a trap, then you haven't once paid attention during my lessons. The Mopatis ilk have the Jaqen's in their pocket, especially the girl. Why would Ellryia suddenly favor our house over a family she already controls?” Illan said as he carefully folded the letter back closed. “Why does it matter? With Pentoshi backing, we can remove Magister Qarlon. If he stays in office, he will bring Lorath to ruin! If we take power now, we can sue for peace. Prevent Lorath from being burned to the ground!” Rollo pleaded for him to agree. The boy was convinced that this was the only way to protect Lorath. Illan softened his voice and placed his arm around his grandson's shoulders. “Take a moment to breathe and calm down. Listen to me, the Jaqen's are in command of the fleet and army. If we tried to pull off a coup, we would lose. Who would gain the most with the Bahin's in jail?” Illan was pleased to see his grandson had exited his panic. The boy took a moment to think. “The Jaqen's?” Rollo said somewhat unsure. “Correct, and who supports the Jaqen's?” Rollo’s eyes widened, finally understanding what Illan was saying. Illan returned the letter to the envelope and handed it to Rollo. “Take this letter to Seresha in Limaosy. Let her see how good of a friend Ellryia Mopatis is. Also, ask Seresha to return with you. I would like to have a chat with the governor.” Illan handed Rollo the letter and watched as he exited his study. The Westerosi Wench and her savage pets would have no hold over Lorath.
The Stark Coronation
House Stark | Kingdom of the North | ~TSK~ SteenB11Winterfell had not been so crowded, busy and bustling since the days of the great Peace under the rule of two during the Royal progression. With Jon having returned home to tremendous applause and gratitude for his actions. The Sword of the North had become King of Westeros and every Northern man and woman wished to witness it. The same could be said of Lyanna Stark being crowned Queen. Every banner could be seen. Not one missing from the many Lords and ladies that governed the North in the name of the Bear of Winterfell. Highest of all sat alongside her at her table. With the lesser Lords filling the halls and the outer courtyard being given to their retinue of men and hangers on. Even Wintertown had to be upgraded to handle the amount of visitors. With freely built barns being used as taverns and resting homes. The North had united under stress and such acts do not falter the feelings of togetherness easily. This was a true Kingdom now. One that people believed in. There were absentees. Jorah Mormont had already left for his campaign, along with the many older and grizzled soldiers who followed his cause. They were missed, of course yet they remained in thoughts and conversations as the joy of the event took full hold. Gripping those present. Though it was a coronation, Lyanna and her advisors had taken to a less formal approach. The new queen herself, sat and chatted to all present. Making her way around all those she could, though she had a certain bias for a certain Prince, which led both to laughter and joy throughout their time together. Yet, despite this there was still a need for a crowning. A ceremony where Lyanna formally received the banded crown of iron and bronze. It was now time. For the Kingdom to be officially handed over to the Bear of Winterfell. A hush had taken over the crowd as the drums began to beat. Soft, light, a background noise to the event of Lyanna's lifetime. The doors stood in front of her. A barrier that had been there her whole life. Strong and steadfast she knew what it meant. Everything that had stopped her in her life. Her Father, cold. The stare of ice. The look of responsibility, to build an alliance for him. To be the perfect Lady and Princess. Beautiful, silent a play thing for those who viewed her as a prize. The Ryswells, who had slain her family. Ending everything she knew and held dear. Even marching on her home. The Vale Lords too with their ambition. She remembered their looks. During the peace talks. She knew what they thought. What would this girl do to stop us? Yet she had faced them. Just as she faced this door. A Queen? They had said. Unmarried. Untested. Unworthy. The words echoed in her skull as she faced the Iron banded door. As strong and resilient as those who had challenged her. Even after the Ryswells and the Vale had been thrown back. How could a teenage girl face Otho Bracken? The mightiest warrior in recent history. Yet, that too she had resolved to sort. With her tongue. Her words. Not the Wrath she had shown the Vale. Now, the King of the Andals was invading them, while the North stood steadfast. She closed her eyes. A short breath to steady her nerves. What should she fear now? Those eyes that would look upon her. She had faced so much already. Done so much already. Succeeded where many thought she would fail. Then the head turned. All the North looked upon their monarch. Dressed in white. An elegant dress with a silver Wolf dancing on her chest. Two bears on the arms growing defiantly. The sparkle and shine a highlight. Yet, no one would look upon the dress. Only her eyes. The defiance and might of the North. Lyanna Stark. The last of her blood. As she made her way to her crown. There she bent her knee. Swore upon the Old gods to guide, honour and protect the people of her Kingdom. Lyanna swore her life upon keeping the values of House Stark. Honour. Family. Duty. The personal words of Sansa Stark. Stolen from House Tully. Taken up ever since. She looked around when hearing those words. She had no family in blood. In name. Yet, there stood Maria and Jorah Mormont. Robert Glover, the strongest man she knew. The Karstark sisters, who were always together. Lysara, most of all her best friend. Her eyes ventured left and found the stare of Calian Flint. Lyanna did not know the thoughts of her enemies, but Calian scared her well enough. By contrast was the Gronson house. Happy and content to see the crowning of the woman they had bent the knee to. Even the other free folk had come. The Thenns. As equals rather than vassals. They paid their respects well enough. House Magnar was more north than free folk now. A respected lord and a respected family. Lyanna had grown to love and appreciate their loyalty. All the major members of the North had come. All to see their Queen. Her Kingdom formed officially. United and strong. The Queen represented them. Having grown and blossomed under the scrutiny and pressure of late. Deaths and disasters. Tyrants and thieves. Revolts and ruthlessness. She as well as the North had endured it all. When she stood she was no longer a mere woman. She was the personification of her Kingdom. Then, the swords were unleashed. Their tips pointed to the ceiling. The Queen in the North echoing on and on. From the wall, to the Crossing, the Bloody Gate, Lannisport, King’s Landing, Old Town, the Arbour, even the deserts of Dorne. The North stands. No, she thought. I fear not. I am Queen of the North. Lyanna nodded. The doors were pushed open by those who had sworn their swords to her. Jory Cassel with his old grey whiskers and young Garred Forrester ever by her side.
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