Spawn and Storm (An ASOIAF/Darkspawn Quest)

Days later, the accommodations are splendid and you are seated high in the box. No one but you and your friends watches as the horses ride, a show of shows if anything is to be proven here today.

All was well, at least, you thought it was. You hadn't been idle, oh no, you told Dorea, Asha, and Cregan. Each of their reactions varied, Cregan felt like he was back home and had taken a quiet moment to himself.

Asha spoke of plucking the poor rose until he wilted under her axe and gave up a lot more than words.

Dorea was silent, her head buried in a tome but not once did she leave your side. If anything, she continued to sit by you as if your protector.

You don't know how fitting it is to see this, the knights gather and you notice some hedge knights. Each with a smile on their lips and was ready to prove their worth to the people, to prove they were the best.

Perhaps they would. It wasn't only them, however, your eyes met platinum-blonde hair and dark eyes, and you looked over each of them. Their eyes locked on you, in fact, they didn't stop as you turned your head away.

"Do you know those three?" Cregan's wary voice rang out and you shook your head, you shiver looking elsewhere, and only manage to catch the fresh ring of steel on steel.

Loras and Durran, they're fighting and you only manage to watch as your brother skillfully weaves and watches Loras, not a single hair of his is out of place, and not a hint of worry is seen. It is only determination as Loras continues to try his best, wishing to find an open yet Durran is ahead of him...

"He's good... better than he was at Storm's End if the cheers are any indicator." Cregan murmurs as the rest of you continue to see your brother bring Loras down, nothing holding him back as Loras was on the back foot, his wary eyes catch yours before he's down on the dirt and Durran has his sword at the rose's throat.

He yields and there is little more to it as further rings cry out, the tournament is all over the place, people fighting and you wonder if you would have fared any better. To know if this chaotic song of steel would have been your playground or nightmare.

"Look! The Cleganes are battling! That's going to be interesting, say Dorea, do you know that Yronwood?" Asha's excitement would have been worrisome if either of you didn't truly know her, there was a reason her and Cregan spent ample time together.

"Can't say that I do-" Dorea's voice strangles, a cry nearly passing her lips as the four of you only witness what is a battle and a fight to the end as Gregor makes his brother yield, another fight comes about that has everyone worried for the Yronwood...

Yet he prevails, he continues and nothing stops his spear from spinning. He is an artiste that picks his moments as he knicks the mountain clean and you all see how the Mountain That Rides is slowly brought to pieces. It is a scary sight, a Yronwood standing above the Mountain, his dusky skin glimmering in the sun and only one thing is on everybody's lips....

"MOUNTAIN SLAYER!" The first cry from the box is Dorea, her cheeks a stunning red and the Yronwood looks to her with a smile, bowing his head as the cries continue and a new tale is forged in the Tourney of King's Landing!

...

He'd done it, you had seen the Yronwood wait his turn, and slowly he walked, he was waiting for anyone to dare and test him... even your brother was wary. Watching the knight with a sense of damned interest.

It is Artas and Barristan next, the two trade looks that do not only seem to be of vague interest. You wonder if there is a shared history due to the former kingsguard, Arthur.

The two blades meet in a crying song that you thought was beautiful, their moves and weaves only brought you to see how finely they worked. How they could bring five men down with veritable ease and still fight another ten men, it scared you, to see such a legendary battle before your eyes.

You don't imagine it, you don't even have to think you saw it. They're smiling, even as they circle one another and their moves slow, to watch the other, to see just what is next on their minds. It happens again, the song crescendos into something that reminds you of a feast, a sad song that would only bring tears to the eye of maidens and harden the hearts of warriors.

Artas only means to strike, he is soft, almost delicate and you see how they only manage to fight, yet its Barristan who is slowly tiring. Age is something as slowly, Artas is rushing forward and his blade only sings, it's a battle now and the songs grow louder.

The clangs sharper and you only manage to keep your eyes glued as Artas strikes, a haze is over him and you wonder if you imagine him a blur...

It's minutes later and Artas' blade is at Barristan, the aged knight smiles up at him with a bloodied lip before he nods. He yields and the crowd roars at such a fight, nothing was to be expected for this battle, and yet here one was...

....

"ARGH! MAELOR, GET HIM!" What? Your eyes turn off to see those boys from before, and your eyes widen as they circle your Uncle Jaime like a pack of wolves, they're not even hiding their intent and you wish to jump, to save him but you're rooted.

You watch the nightmare before you as Jaime only toys with them, managing alone and yet you feel as if something is wrong, something isn't right! Why? Why are they doing this?

Jaime continues to fight, but he's losing, even as one of the boys circles around him, only for the dashing Dayne to interfere. His pale eyes scope the boys before he shields himself as a mask has fallen into place

"AEGOR! NOW!" The other, some dusky-skinned boy cries out before they are rushing forward...

And so they fell, two by Dayne and another by Lannister. The squelch of their blades drowns everything else, nothing fits, nothing even feels this right as your eyes watch as the lifeless eyes of the would-be killers look at you...

There are times you wonder when you realize things are too late when the cries of a guard become known to you and it is in that moment.


Where the cries echo and all you know is chaos as the crowd screams...

"PROTECT THE PRINCE!" Everyone looks to Durran, he stands there unharmed but you feel it...


The cooled tip of a blade at your back, you turn your head to see Mandon's slumped form and his lips quivering. You turn to see the lumbering teen, his eyes dark and filled with nothing but familiarity.. what? This-

Thwack!

He's punched you and your vision goes dark, you are upright, and you hear your friends struggle and their cries for their guard. Everyone is jumping to your aid but you feel it is too late, darkness is to be your home...


"ASHA!" Someone cries and you see Asha, she's slumped next to you, ichor dripping from your neck, and her eyes soft but filled with life. She's going to be fine, she needs to be fine.

You roar, you cry, this is not going to happen. You're stumbling..... looking at him. His lips curl into a sneer and Dorea stands next to you, whispering soft words as Cregan brandishes his blade.

You are unarmed but something dares to be snapped, to finally be unbound, and your eyes darken. The skies are thunderous and the box rocks, he hurt your friends...

He dared to hurt your friends and believed himself ready to live... you roar. You cry and you...


Unleash.

It thrums in your blood, the song of heroes and champions. The songs of your siblings, the numerous spawn as finally... you know your destiny!

He looks at you, brandishing his own blade. A pale moonlit thing cascades from the sun and you only behold the sight for a second longer as Cregan howls to the air like a wolf, nothing is right anymore but this is it...

It is only you, Dorea, and Cregan. Your friends are ready to spill blood tonight. Nothing is righter than this, but you too wish to act... to bring this bastard to the fade and watch as he is tormented by all manner of your ruthless vengeance...

[] - You will have no mercy, he did not as he meant to kill Asha and Mandon, yet they live, you feel it. Do the same, let him burn and thrash within your hold...
- Blood Magic? (DC 85)
- Twist the elements? (DC 60)
- Call down thunder? (DC 45)
- Write in (Varies)
[] - Leniency, you will have your way with him but you will get what you need out of him. From there, he shall suffer a thousand deaths....


...

Traits Unlocked:

Emissary - The Arcane arts are yours to command, the elements are yours to twist and weave, and the earth is yours in which to craft and wield to your heart's desire. You are Darkspawn. (Magic is yours to command, Malus to General Opinion.)

Good Day Questers! I'm writing this to introduce something of a perk to the current system we have with quests going on right now, if you'd like to know more, please keep reading.

Like any old QM, I am not averse to seeing your creativity expressed and shown in a wondrous form. If you have an idea, a little bubble or plot bunny within this quest that can be shown and possibly made canon...

Go ahead! Do it and I will reward you with a Tier 1, Tier 2, or Tier 3 reward.

Tier 1: +10 to rolls of your choice, or the possibility to see things that may or may not have happened had voters picked differently.
Tier 2: +25 to rolls of your choice, some other interesting things that could grant Tommen or members of his party an edge.
Tier 3: +50 to rolls of your choice, a guaranteed drop of something rare that turns the tides for Tommen or members of his party in the future.

Express yourself, people, I wish to see something fun and out there. If you have ideas, go ahead.

These rewards may or may not apply to certain characters people wish to create as future members of Tommen's party or allies in the future. If you have some of those ideas in mind, go ahead, and express them.

"No." You whisper it hoarsely, your eyes looked around you, you saw how the people scattered like ants and how the loyal stormlanders crowded Durran. Their precious prince, you saw who you had, the likes of Artas and Jaime rushed to you, there were few Rykker men backed by Ser Duncan pushing forward and past the screaming folk...

Though in truth, it was only you, backed by your friends to truly deliver a punishment. To give this would-be killer the end of his days and you felt it, thrumming with untold intent and power to boil his blood. To flay his skin and display as a cloak, you think the Boltons would happily oblige.

"They killed my brothers, do you think in any way you will win, Prince Tommen? Spawn like you should cease to exist, I only mean to inherit it..." He whispers back to you and his attention solely focuses on you, his eyes shaky and for a moment you feel it, he is scared.

Did he think you not capable? No, there's something to his words and in his eyes-

He gives you a second before you are weaving from his vicious swings, the greatest movements since your practices with Mandon shine through and you smile, he is desperate.


Cregan growls, his spirits all over and his swings wild like a wolf with claws, you realise Mandon was right. There was no place for emotion on the field as this killer only toys with Cregan, meeting his swings and clangs are the only music you hear.


It's the song of battle and Cregan is losing, little is left for the killer as Cregan slumps forward. Blood pools from his nose and you hear his pained cry as he stares up at the bastard.

"Do you really think you can stop me? I have a job to do, Tommen, and you will die or you will submit to me. There is no fighting this day.." He prods you, his eyes alight with victory yet you stand, your head is not swirling with vengeance. It begs the question of who...

He's armed, he got past the Kingsguard and he is the one meant to have killed your friends. He thinks it to mean you are alone, you are finished, and that day is not this day.

"You are right. There is no fighting this." You smile, an eerie one that you watch his face slack, his eyes cross and brows knit together in anger. He means to strike but it happens...


A thunderous boom of air and lightning crack the earth. It is all you can do to not move your focus but he does, his eyes shift in horror and his jaw drops.

"Tommen..." You don't know who whispers it, you find that you care not. Your only wish is to see his body a mangled mess...

It happens like the times of old, the thunder bursts down into the box, blue shocking lighting pools at your fingertips but its journey does not cease in the slightest. It pools up your arm, encasing it in an arcane type of armour before it is at your neck...

It does not shock you. If anything, it calls to you in a siren's song...

'Use it, my prince. This is your power, the power of old, the power of Gods and Spawn...'

It comforts you, and strangely, it sounds like Mother. Her soft voice and gentle touch, you are safe, you are blessed.

It reaches your eyes, a bursting of lighting, of true power and he shirks, he swore. Did he not mean to kill you? To have you surrender, what happened? He saw a glimmer of power, a bind snapped and he wishes for clemency.

"My Prince," he stutters, his voice begging and filled with tears. Your fingers itch, did he forget what he'd done? You look to your friends, to see Cregan hissing with blood dripping from his nose and cradling Asha as she breathes shallow breaths but her eyes lock to yours.

She smiles, a deadly one filled with no mercy and you know what she'd wish.

"What happened?" You mock, the power and Asha's smile filling you with... pride, with vengeance, with the end. It's a single step that sounds like the crack of thunder, you tower over him as he meant to kneel but you took hold of him.

A strangled cry escaped his throat and he begs, not with words but his eyes and you bow your head. This will be your first, the one that means to harden you...

Its the cry he gives that tells you enough. How his eyes bulge and his throat seizes up, how blood pools and drips from his lips. How you hear nothing but the song grow louder in your head, beating in twine with his heart before you meet his eyes.

"Back you go." It snapped. Lightning tore from your arm burst the killer with such force that all which was left had been his ashen corpse.

He slipped through your fingers like the sandy beaches of Dorne that Dorea always talked about.

"My Prince," finally a voice breaks through your haze and you see Jaime, his face unreadable and his eyes worried as he looks down at the blackened corpse which had been filled with malice seconds before.

No one says anything for a while, but it is you who makes the first move.

You turn your eyes and lock with your brother. Durran's eyes are wide and his brows are knitting together at your show, as well as a flash of worry that is over everyone's faces...

[ Relations ??? ]
[ Relationship ??? ]
[ Powers ??? ]

...

You are pacing. Words reached father and mother, various houses and high lords had their own words on the matter but there was much to be discussed, you remember it all.

How Renly's stormlords had backed and surrounded your brother with little cause to even think of you. So much for familial bonds, there was another matter of House Rykker rushing to your aid.

It was only a moment ago that even Duncan had thanked the Seven for your health. If he wished to say more, especially regarding your feat of power, no one said much.

Asha was being tended to, it was said she would be okay and in the night she would be back and healthy. You knew she would be fine, but the bastard had gotten her. There was little else for Mandon, even though he managed to make it. Your friends were safe, were happy.

Yet, you were alone. Locked away in your chambers and pacing like a child without getting a tart from the kitchen. You don't know who managed to order it but little else even remained now, the tourney had been cancelled and the bodies of the four were being investigated, greatly.

"Tommen," a voice calls to you and you see Mandon in his glimmering armour. He looks well, at least you can be proud of that, protecting him.

It is silent for a moment before he moves forward and brings you into a hug. It is the first time you two have shared something so different, but he shows his appreciation in the strangest of ways.

"Your father and mother call for you, a private court has been called for. There are certain talks being had, and repercussions are coming because of them. Please, with me."

Before you leave, however, you take your shield. This is not your leaving your side, not ever.

It is a long walk but you must have imagined it, as if you were a prisoner being taken to the strangest of places. It doesn't feel right, you protected people, your friends, your family. Why do they make you wait?

You look to some guards. they are Lannisters and each seems to bow their head to you. To see something others do not, it is not seconds later that you reach Reachmen, Stormlanders, and various others. Their reactions are wholy different to those of the West, you scoff.

This feels wrong, but you are bidden forward. Without Mandon to follow you as he remains outside the great doors of the throne room. You hear whispers, some shouting and you push the doors as a creek alerts everyone to your entrance.

The faces are both unfamiliar and familiar. You see Durran backed by Desmond Redfort and some men in terrible robes, they bare the seven-pointed star atop their robes.

There is Renly behind them each, his lips curling but you are unsure if it is a smile or something less welcoming. You push that away as you manage to find your friends.

Each is flanked by their own guard, yet their faces tell you a lot. They are scared, none moreso than Dorea and Asha, you bow your head and try to reassure them all will be fine as finally, you look up at the Iron Throne.

There he is. Bulky and losing fat, he has been busy and you rarely see him but a beard that stretches to his chest and hair that cascades down the slope of his shoulders. There is your father, Robert Baratheon. His face seems to turn at the mere sight of you, but it does little else as you are called forward by the curling of his finger.

Adorned in his kingly armour, fit for a Durrandon, a Baratheon. The crowned stag drapes from every piece of the room and you are walking.

It feels little else like an execution but you move forward, there is little else you can do.

...

"Tommen." Your mother doesn't wait and takes you into her arms, hugging the dear life out from you as the burning of eyes sears into your back. You are released and still, are slowly walking towards your father as he looks down upon you with a sense of interest.

You stop at the steps. Training your eyes to meet a colour similar to one of your own.

"Father." You don't give much else but the cool greeting and you are not sure whether there are snickers or short gasps for air that leave gathered people.

He doesn't say anything for a while. Instead, he looks you over and then turns to Durran, he looks over his two sons and then a sneer seems to pass his lips before finally he turns back upon you.

"I have heard some disturbing rumours about you and your friends, Tommen. Are they true?" You hear something in his tone and you don't quite know what to place there, how it intertwines before you shrug.

"What rumors father? I hear many, I am a dog. I am the stain atop your legacy of crushing the dragon. To what am I?" You spit it back and your father's face reddens, purples even as if he's had too much ale.

You manage to hear the sharp hisses and your mother calls for your name but none is heard as your father leans down from atop his monstrous throne.

"You know what rumours boy. This is not about what you are and how I see you. Did you... summon storm and lightning? Did you kill a man in cold blood?" He roars it and you wonder if the spittle that flew from his lips had left specks on your doublet.

You rock back as if struck and your eyes are hollow...

Cold blood? You turn to find Mandon, to look at Asha and you remember. Mandon is out there... guarding nothing.

You look to Asha and the silence she gives is enough, you hear a gravelly voice. Mocking and filled with little respect as your eyes turn to your brother's side...

"He knows what he did, your grace! He is a scourge that killed an innocent man! A boy I'd known from his time in the loving embrace of the Seven! Yet your... son stands there as nothing more than the killer of a holy man!" A septon speaks with little means to mask the smirk he sends your way.

He dares!? You feel it again, thrumming and calling to you as the mood shifts and even your mother seems to gasp but you find that you care not. They mean to paint you as villainous? The bastard?

"Tommen." You calm, you curse Asha because she knows what she does. Now she keeps you from killing these fools where they stood but this is far from it as your eyes look back to meet your father.

"Cold blood? Is that the news of what has come about? He meant to kill me, father. My friend there, a Lord Paramount's granddaughter. He meant kill the blood of the wolf, a son of a man who rode with you to war, to battle and more. Do you think I could stand by and let a would-be killer live?" You hear it, your voice is bland and dull but such is the way you feel, even as you remember his body gusting through the wind.

Hisses and namecalling come from the Septon, even the Redfort joins in and yet your brother is quiet. Saying little as he watches the state of affairs.

"And what about the gifts you now have? Of the dragons? A sword and a shield. You carry their sigil, do you expect me to forgive that?" He is spitting, fuming, and your father's fury does know no bounds as he seems to ease himself.

You shake your head, what does he meant to do with then? It is only by sheer force of will that you do not work yourself into a fit of anger. Coupled with Asha's soft whispers that ease you like a cool breath of wind.

"Then what father? You would believe the faith over your son? Over me?" You don't have to hide the hurt in your voice as you see how his face doesn't slacken or wrack with guilt, if anything he stares unmoved.

"I will believe my son." He looks not to you but Durran whose head drops and his eyes steadfast on the floor. "You killed someone, wielding things not seen since a time of heroes." You don't imagine the awe and excitement in your father's voice, you made him proud but he remains unmoving.

"For that, the Faith would have me execute you." You only manage to hear a cry from your mother and then, a song rings and you know a blade was almost drawn. "But I am not led by the faith. Yet, I know there is threat to your life. Your brother has suggested..." You go numb and even then, he does not look at you, he does not even gloat a single moment.

"You are to foster with one of the Great Houses of Westeros. You should know, Stannis has wished for you foster at Dragonstone, something about opportunity or another. There were other offers, but those were travelling knights, what you wish to do. You will inform me by the end of the next moon..."

He speaks with finality as you only stare ahead, a blankness falling over you as your mother takes you by the arm leading you out of the throne room.

This is your home, your mother said this would always be your home...

Why now are you leaving it? It would be told that it was for your protection, but perhaps Loras was right, Durran played his game and found his play to use.

...

"Tommen. You have to eat, you can think about this all tomorrow." She tries to push you but you don't feel like it. This might be one of the last times you get to eat with her for a while. Your mother had always been here for you, to know she wouldn't be there anymore...

"I'm not hungry. I'll be going to sleep now-" you don't make it as she has your hand in a tight grip and Cersei only catches you softly. You don't mind looking so vulnerable but after today, after everything. You feel it is too much.

"I'm sorry, dear, this is not what I wanted but Durran had his conversation and he wished for you to be away. Robert found it safer than being called a kinslayer." She lulls you into her arms and it is quite comical, you only tower over her and she cradles you as if you were a babe again.

"I don't care. Let me leave this behind, if I am to be the exiled prince of Westeros, I'd best go about it mother, those knights who wished to have an adventure. Wouldn't that be fun? The Prince of nowhere and of nothing." You muse quietly, lamenting your luck and the fucking faith.

Your luck was shit but it seems you had options, and you remember words from a certain Tyrell. How Highgarden would be your home if you wished it and now things come about, yet are they not preachers of the faith? To host you would be a detriment and no doubt they would suffer rebellions from the house such as Hightower or Tarly, still, it was an option.

"Choose wisely, my son. I wish to see you soon and not when you've outgrown your mother and gotten sick of these moments. You are my boy and I hope you do not forget that. I love you."

She held you for the rest of the night and it was one of the moments you treasured. The last you could get to be wrapped up in her arms.

...

You don't speak to them for days, you're in the yard wacking a training dummy, and you hear their steps. Mixed with sweet Dorea's laughter and love for the yard, its only you four but it's the way it's been for the past year and a half.

"Look at him, brooding. Did you give him a few tips, Reg?" Dorea lashes with her tongue and you fight the bubble of laughter but you bite it down as Asha leans against the dummy as you nearly cleave its head off.

"Oooh, scary aren't we? So. its been a week and you've brooded enough. Certain lords are vying to have you in their keep. Nuncle Victarion wants to go home, Cregan wishes to explore, and Dorea, well I think she's going to follow you wherever." A certain look passes between the two of them and you only scoff as she teases you further.

"They lied. Why? Scared of what I can do? To topple him and that fucking title of his. Durran Storm they called him, an honour it was supposed. A great title and yet, I had it, in the tips of my fingers. Throughout my body, I was the personification of Durrandon." You only manage to hide your seethe for so long before Asha taps your shoulder.

"Enough. The faith will have their day, and when that comes, you shall return here." She looks over the yard with a gleam in her eye that tells you well enough. You don't wish to have this end but so it does and with shitty taste.

"My question is..." Cregan rushes forward with sword in hand, you wonder how he will be in the coming years.

"Where are we going?" Dorea is next to you, eyes alight with joy and mirth like nothing is the matter and truly, you don't think anything is. She's always positive, your Dorea...

"We? Surely..." You try but they beat you to it, their eyes all too playful like they all knew a secret.

"What? You didn't think we'd let you go alone, did you? Never. We're here with you. To the end." You watch as each of them shows it the same way, Cregan's words had only told you what you needed to know.

They were your family and you were there's, and the world had best watch out....

You were ready to explore it

[] - Dragonstone. The land in which the Dragons landed and from there, launched their invasion and eventual conquest of Six Kingdoms. Your uncle, Stannis, wishes to host you. He talks of a red witch that wishes to know you.

[] - Highgarden. Once home to the Gardeners, Kings of the Reach. It now hosts the Tyrells, Lords Paramount of The Reach and Warden of the South. You imagine the fat flower, Mace, wishes to broker a betrothal between you and his comely daughter, Maegery. Of course, going here, there is talk of your magic and all sense of foulness within your bones.

[] - Sunspear. The seat of the Princes and Princesses of House Nymeros-Martell. It plays host to Dorea's father, Oberyn and her uncle Doran, who rules there. Dorea says you are to be fine, that nothing will harm you but even she only manages it with a frown. You imagine she will try her best but her family, well they are a vengeful sort.

[] - Adventures with Gaerys Maegyr, a free city mecernary who'd seen your display. He wishes for you and your party to travel to the Wall, North, West, and East. To his home in Lys, apparently, he means to make himself something of a company there. A band of mercenaries, from what you have heard, Essos is the place the last dragons remain...

[] - Adventures with Dunk, Ser Rykker wishes to take you and your party with him. He says that you are both second sons and will be able to find a home anywhere. He means to travel the Crownlands and find a ship to travel to Pentos, he means to find himself mercenary work. Although, he did speak of the Velyarons and troubles in the Stepstones. Talk about history repeating itself...


....

Relations:

The Faith of the Seven: N/A > Heathen
House Baratheon of Storm's End: N/A > Dislike
House Rykker: Friendly > Ally
House Greyjoy of Pyke: Neutral > Friendly
House Stark of Winterfell: Neutral > Friendly
House Martell of Dorne: Annoyance > Friendly

Relationship Gained!

Asha Greyjoy: Friend > Ally
Cregan Stark: Friend > Ally
Dorea Sand: Friend > Ally
Ser Mandon Moore: Friend > Ally
Ser Jaime Lannister: Friend > ???
Ser Artas Dayne: N/A > Acquaintance
Lord Stannis Baratheon: N/A > Acquaintance

Nicknames Gained

Heathen: By devout followers of the Faith, you are spoken about harshly throughout the Reach and the followers in Oldtown dislike you with a burning passion.

Prince of Nowhere: In all but name, you were exiled by your father in a brilliant play by your brother to remove you and your supporters from court after you exhibited feats of magic in front of all in attendance at King's Landing.

Powers Gained:

Call of The Storm: Tommen has mastery over thunder and lightning. Whenever he wields it, he may imbue himself or members of his party with a 1d20 die.

I Am Lightning: Tommen can call upon the Lightning for an AOE attack and incapacitate or kill his enemies in battle with a 1d50 die.
...

A.N: Just.... I have no words. I really don't.

So... uh, yeah. Pick out what you want to do or foster, and some truly.... mind-boggling things are bout to be on the horizon.

Just... I'm.... there were so many different things that could have happened.