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A Dragon of the North V: The Stormcrown Knight

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Lone Wolf 666 said:
What trait?. Sauron trait?.:p
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Trait Gained! [Avatar of Sauron] - Though many call you fair of features and know your counsel to always be heard, there is a distinct aura of dread around you that reduces most to fearful entreaties and others to hesitation. Many wonder aloud as to your skill in ring-making, and the children of the forests do not think well of you.

Update 119 of DOTN is already at 2000 words. Currently writing battle scene, should be 5 or 6 sections over all.
 
You know, Droman did say we would get to choose what our armour looks like next year. If we are going for the undead dragons, Sauron's armour or something similar would certainly be fitting.
 
95spartans said:
You know, Droman did say we would get to choose what our armour looks like next year. If we are going for the undead dragons, Sauron's armour or something similar would certainly be fitting.
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Any chance we could not do the traditional thing and instead just pick the most boring and most functional goddamn armor we can.

I wouldn't mind keeping that Temperate trait.
 
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95spartans said:
You know, Droman did say we would get to choose what our armour looks like next year. If we are going for the undead dragons, Sauron's armour or something similar would certainly be fitting.
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Clearly it will be this.:p



More seriously, keeping that Temperate trait would be nice. We should settle for a well made, but common armour. We can be creative with the colour, though.
 
Guys. I'm talking about the most basic looking armor we can find. No filigree. No engraving. No color. Maybe we stick our sigil on it somewhere, but that's about it.

The only three qualifications I want for our helmet: its made of metal, it protects our head, and we can see out of it. Beyond that? Just make sure its made of steel and well made, and let's forget the rest.
 
Cteatus said:
Guys. I'm talking about the most basic looking armor we can find. No filigree. No engraving. No color. Maybe we stick our sigil on it somewhere, but that's about it.

The only three qualifications I want for our helmet: its made of metal, it protects our head, and we can see out of it. Beyond that? Just make sure its made of steel and well made, and let's forget the rest.
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There's nothing saying that it can't be functional, simple, and intimidating or showy depending on your tastes.
 
Cteatus said:
You mean despite the fact that it'll cost more?

Most of this is me dreading the impending armor debate. Let's just make sure its made of steel and fits us and move on.
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Actually, a simple steel armor might be a more in character choice for Jon. In the the dragonborn dreams, he must have heard this thousand times from the guards - "Aye, now that's some fine armor. Good old-fashioned steel."
 
95spartans said:
You know, Droman did say we would get to choose what our armour looks like next year. If we are going for the undead dragons, Sauron's armour or something similar would certainly be fitting.
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Also, to be clear since you're only twelve and finding armor for someone that young is difficult for pics, it'll basically become your default look by 300 Al/17 years of age.
 
Cteatus said:
Any chance we could not do the traditional thing and instead just pick the most boring and most functional goddamn armor we can.

I wouldn't mind keeping that Temperate trait.
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Probably a better idea, also it's silly wearing dark lord armour when we aren't a dark lord yet.



This with the sigil replaced with our own and no gold seems like it would work, same with skyrims un-modded steel plate.

 
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Tiresias said:
I'm partial to Proto-Saber's armour. It's practical, elegant and simple.
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I always did dig Proto Saber's armor. Though for Jon I'd prefer adding a bit more protection covering what looks like unnecessarily weak/open areas. It's not like he won't be able to handle the weight judging by him taking a running horse head on at twelve.
Droman said:
Also, to be clear since you're only twelve and finding armor for someone that young is difficult for pics, it'll basically become your default look by 300 Al/17 years of age.
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How old does Jon look? IIRC he was growing faster than the average person. And how tall is he?
 
Warden said:
I always did dig Proto Saber's armor. Though for Jon I'd like adding a bit more protection covering what looks like unnecessarily weak/open areas. It's not like he won't be able to handle the weight judging by him taking a running horse head on at twelve.

How old does Jon look? IIRC he was growing faster than the average person. And how tall is he?
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He looks like a fifteen year old and is around 5'7.
 
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Update 119: The Griffin's Fall
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    • 119: The Griffin's Fall
    ​
    For all the bluster, vitriol and venom exchanged between yourself, the crown prince and his knightly uncle, there was little more to be seen on that front in following days and weeks. You suspect it the influence of Lord Jon Arryn and Lord Commander Barristan Selmy, separating you from both the crown prince and further conflict. Just as well, as it also served to separate you from King Robert and his drunken episodes.

    With his multitudes available, King Robert was able to do what Ser Brynden and Ser Edmure both had struggled to do: discover the true location of Ungren's fortress, the Griffin's Beak. Having generously been offered a royal knighthood, a thousand gold dragon and lands in the Crownlands to call their own, hundreds of men had volunteered to scout the mountains and discover the exact location.

    Only three men returned to report so, but it was fairly done between them. Faced with three victors, the King had offered each the choice out of the rewards once promised. The first, a Westerlander bastard and ranger called Benjamin Hill accepted the knighthood, and was approached soon afterwards by Lord Arryn as regarding a position in the City Watch of King's Landing.

    The second was Black Walder Frey himself, having fought his way through a party of five tribesmen to make his return, and claimed the monetary reward as his due. The third and last, a Crownlander hedge knight by the name of Bronn took the lands offered, some small fief on the Blackwater to call and rule as his own.

    Thus informed and with hundreds of scouts acting as a screening force against any ambushes in the mountain passes, King Robert ordered the forced march, travelling deeply into the mountains that Ungren claims his own to arrive before the fortress that was Griffin's Beak.

    It was as imposing as it had seemed in what felt like only weeks prior. Ser Brynden had been only recently dead, and you'd vowed to in that fortress's very halls to see Ungren dead at your hands. Today, today you'd have the chance to make it so.

    And yet, King Robert was without his sense of propriety. A messenger rode ahead of his hosts, with voice booming enough to reach the high fortress walls.

    "Let the savage Ungren come out and show obedience and remonstration to King Robert Baratheon, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm! Let him plead mercy from the King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men! Let him come before his king!"

    A few moments of silence passed, before something fell from the battlements at the messenger's horse, rousing it a little. The messenger dismounted to examine it, before gingerly picking it up and returning it with him as he headed back to the lines. Raising it highly for all to see, a murmur began passing through the ranks.

    It was a stag's head.

    "He wishes to die," said Robert casually "and dooms his people with him. Prepare the ladders. I want to be drinking his spirits by nightfall."

    ==

    It was chaos. Anarchy. Absolute madness. Robert's men had climbed the walls with ladders, with hands and some few had even endeavoured to attempt so through the mountain cliffs to either side. By virtue of your recent rise in status with the King himself, you had remained in his retinue until the breaches and landings had been made, the cliffside gates opened to allow for others to join the fighting.

    King Robert had waded into the melee soon enough, accompanied Ser Barristan and Ser Jaime at his back for his own good. You had peeled off quickly enough, not content to stay amongst the general melee.

    Ungren's remaining forces were few and lacking, and yet he had attempted to compensate by conscripting his women and children to join the fighting, to join his few remaining tribesmen and what seemed like Essosi slave-soldiers, shackled together to provide mediocre spearwalls as a deterrence.

    They would not prevent Robert's men from victory and the sack, you knew. But they would buy Ungren time to escape again, or for whatever his last, most final scheme would be.

    And yet you were not the only one. Many others had broken through much like you, engaging with what few of Ungren's champions remained, great hulking warriors of muscle and sinew, wielding axes as if they had the lightness of a thimble.

    Ser Dayne cut down two of them that had deigned to stand in your path, frantically following your single-minded march forward into the inner citadel. You had to slow down yourself here, spotting the bevy of traps and tricks that Ungren had to delay a storming. Choosing caution and safety over speed, you moved deeper and deeper into the great keep that your ancestor Brandon the Builder had once made, a gift to the Mountain Kings of old.

    Bastard.

    More than once you are waylaid by a trap or a servant or slave coming to bar your passage, forcing you to pass around even as you check every room for Ungren's faintest presence. With every empty room, with every miss of Ungren, you become more and more desperate, convinced he must only be meters ahead of you, only a few breaths away from tasting Blackfyre's edge-

    No.

    No. No. No. No. NonononononoNONONONO-

    As you enter the final unchecked tower, you find seven bodies in the room. One, a boy a few years older than you vaguely carrying the features of House Royce is in the corner, moaning quietly to himself. The second, a rather large eagle, it's wings broken and it's neck snapped as it hangs off a hook in the stone wall facing you.

    Three men dressed in Frey colours and leathers are strewn across the room in various states of rapid decomposition and rot, a stink rapidly entering your breathing space. The sixth you vaguely recognize as Black Walder Frey, great grandson of Lord Walder Frey and a cavalry commander under Ser Edmure during his brief time in command of the campaign. The seventh and last... is Ungren.

    Even as you look at the blood pooling beneath his body and note the abnormal angle of his neck, you understand what must have happened. Black Walder and his men have been amongst those who attempted to scale the mountainside walls, the only successful ones in this regard. Either coming through this tower or somewhere else, he must have engaged Ungren alone, with his his tribals and slaves fighting outside against Robert's men.

    Ungren and his must have been alone, yet not harmless as another breath of the noxious room reminds you. No, never harmless. he must have used poisons then, and his pet eagle to strike. Judging by the blood and feathers on Black Walder, he must have been the last to fall, having killed the eagle and then Ungren while falling himself to whatever poisons Ungren attempted against him-

    No, that slight breath. He's still alive. Gods almighty, Black Walder is still alive.

    "Ser Arthur," you indicate in a near mumble "See to Black Walder's care. Inform any who bar your path that he has killed Ungren, served the King himself. See to it he lives."

    "Jon-"

    "Go!" you shout suddenly as you turn upon "I want him to live, Dayne. I'll not have Ungren's strike be the last. Take him now and seek aid. Go!"

    "As you command, Your Grace."

    As Ser Arthur does as obeyed, your attention returns to Ungren's son. Yohn son of Ungren, as the tribesmen would call him. Yohn Greyfeather, had his father been of the Seven Kingdoms. Yohn Stone, if his bastardy was recognized. All that was left of Ungren's legacy, his dreams...

    All that was left of Ungren.

    Your hand twitches slightly.

    [] Spare Yohn - He might be Ungren's son, but he is not Ungren. Killing him might be reasonable to give a final end to this rebellion, but you are no unthinking killer, even with your fury at being denied Ungren's death boiling over.
    [] Send him to his legitimate kin - His cousin Robar Royce is now head of House Royce, and technically responsible for him.
    [] Take him into your household - The Vale is not kind to bastards, and though you think well of Robar, you do not think he would take him in. It falls to you.
    [] Insure his departure to the Watch - Many a tribal has been sent there in recent years, what harm could one more do.​
    [] Kill Yohn - Ungren has been denied to you, but his sole living heir yet lives. You'll kill him, and in doing so utterly wipe out everything that could have been Ungren's legacy. Suitable vengeance for Ser Brynden.
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    ----

    GM Note: Fuck me is this starting to get lengthy. I think it'll be one more update after this and then back to Winterfell.
     
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    • At least Ungren's finally dead.

    I have no idea what to do with the kid though. Can't really bring myself to kill him, but also don't want him anywhere near us or in any important part of the 7 Kingdoms. So...


    [X] Spare Yohn - He might be Ungren's son, but he is not Ungren. Killing him might be reasonable to give a final end to this rebellion, but you are no unthinking killer, even with your fury at being denied Ungren's death boiling over.
    [X] Insure his departure to the Watch - Many a tribal has been sent there in recent years, what harm could one more do.
     
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