Spawn and Storm (An ASOIAF/Darkspawn Quest)

Reader mode
15. To West, Glories, and Dragon Kings
  • Threadmarks
    • 15. To West, Glories, and Dragon Kings​

    "He is sleeping, leave him be girl. Lest you wish to join him in that bed, I ascertain we make it in the next two weeks. The road west is no easy one, especially with those things roaming the lands."

    His voice was a comfort, Mandon smiles and laughs with Artas as the two seem to be merry while you slowly sat up in your comfy bed...

    You glance around, ah, an inn. You wonder where as your eyes met the black of Dorea who seats herself at the edge of the bed with only that book in hand.

    "Am I to break my fast or to hear the calls of a thousand lashings? To what is my fate dearest Dorea?" You smiled as she jumps you, she smacked you with all the might her tiny fingers packed and you softly chuckle as the hits do nought to harm you.

    "I know. I was not doing my best-" she smacked you again, whether for good measure or want of the feeling you did not feel like asking.

    "You don't wait for your knights, nor do you even care for our words in the heat? How do you think it feels to see you run into danger, each time, with little care for us? Your friends? Do we not matter?" Her eyes glistened and you only take her hand with a rueful smile, perhaps you should have thought more about that.

    Whilst they did not show it with ease, their friendship had been the best you'd had in... ever. King's Landing would have been a bore if not for Cregan, Asha, and especially Dorea.

    "I don't know what to say, I just- I didn't want you all hurt. I'm a Prince, regardless if it is of nowhere, Pentos, Westeros, or a new empire out there in the east. My role and my means are to protect my people. Whether smallfolk, highborn, or natural, I will lay my life for you. Is that wrong?" You whispered it softly to the dornish woman whose eyes only shone in a brilliant light, you didn't think you noticed the flecks of grey within them before.

    "But your life is not worth that, you are no mere sacrifice and I won't have you do that. Do you understand me? If you must be the protector of the people. Then I will protect the protector, that is my duty, however I may wish to do it." She smirks, and it's a dangerous thing that has you wobbling before you are dragged to your feet and off to breaking your fast.

    You spare a glance over the inn, many men took to adorning leathers. Their heads bow to you in respect before they part from various tables, gifting you a seat at their table.

    "Lord Ogresbane." The cries part various lips in hushed whispers as you make your way to Asha and Cregan seating themselves shadowed away in a corner of the inn.

    They chatted animatedly as you sat opposite Asha with Dorea only joining you seconds later with plates of bread, fish, and meat.

    Food of champions, you suppose.

    "Morning. Why the dull looks, you act as if Jory or Victarion has taken your axes and swords." Dorea pokes fun, her eyes alight with Asha's dull smirk playing back with Cregan muttering to himself.

    You continued to chomp away at the bread and listened quietly to them as they went on.

    "We don't have to discuss this now. Let them argue and threaten to bleed themselves dry, I'd be happier with the ale." Cregan groaned as he leaned himself back against a wall.

    "Yes, of course. Allow them to argue, while that bastard grows in strength. It took Tommen a few days to wake after all that he did." Asha bites out sarcastically, only then she caught your eyes as did the rest of them with varying degrees of worry.

    You give them a few moments.

    "Either someone talks or I will ask one of those respectful fellows over there who look ready to tell me an entire story." Your voice dares them to lie, it borders anger and a bite of sarcasm.

    Cregan was the first to look away with a hue to his cheeks and a bite to his lips, he doesn't like this.

    "After everything you did, we all rode a good few days to the Westerlands. It was decided by Mandon and Artas that the best action was to put Gerold down. We ride to battle." Cregan looked at you and a sad smile dotted across his lips.

    You clench your fingers together, they're shaking.

    You were a boy. Six years and you'd done all this. Men bowed, your friends scared of your next words and the watchful eyes of guards remained on you.

    "My friends." You whispered that back to each of them as you ate away, you'd have more to say on the road you guessed.

    ....

    As you packed your things, you are steadying a black mare as you felt him. You smiled before glancing to your left.

    "Mandon," you only whispered his name and he smiled as well. It's a comfort that you two could communicate with few words, but little else remained of the past. No King's Landing, no oaths, only the road and the friends you have at your side.

    "You had me worried, princeling. I thought I'd lost you." He sounds monotone, a bit too much for him as well.

    You suppress a growl, he doesn't understand. Instead, you hummed and hoped he'd be on his way, that he would go about his duties but he remained.

    "We called for you on the field that day, Tommen. I respected your order as if you were my King, something like that hasn't been seen since the times of Rhaegar Targaryen and his three loyal kingsguard. One such man was Lord Commander, Gerold. My duty is to defend you, to be the sword and shield at your side, yet you rush into the danger of facing unknowns. What am I to say?" He's passionate, it grows and bursts like a roaring forest fire as you finally looked at him.

    His eyes narrowed on you and for once you couldn't see a Kingsguard. You saw someone who wished to protect you, silly.

    "I've had this talk Mandon. Your duty is to protect me, yes, but I am a prince. To defend this realm, Lord Protector is my father's title. I never saw much, that day of the tourney, you almost died. Do you know how I felt? I didn't see him until it was late and I had to do something. Just like the Ogre, if I relied on anyone else..." Your voice dies then as finally, you look down at the dirt, this is not the time for reflection.

    Mandon doesn't wait, instead, he settled a hand on your shoulder and got you to meet his eyes.

    "Things not only rest on you, Tommen. You've helped me, plenty enough, and provided this knight with hope for the future. Do you know who I rely on? Strangely enough, the guards your friends have. Dunk, all these people, they are your allies, your friends. I hope you see that soon enough.." Mandon left you with those words, it left you to ponder something exactly...

    Did you trust your friends? With your life? That's something you'd have to figure out, eventually.

    ....

    A week's ride. That is how long it's been and your party, as well as the men since, made it past the Golden Tooth. You'd made it, the west was going to be saved or so you thought.

    You knew little about this Gerold and his supposed witch, try as you might, there was no word from Asha.

    Try as you might, she didn't hear what you did. There was something amiss with this entire-

    "HALT! Banners on the horizon!" Dunk called out, you didn't waste time riding ahead.

    The two of you watched the horizon and saw them, the banner of House Lannister. It whistled you with such hope before a bitter smile runs across your lips.

    "We move. If this is to be the forces meant to stop the black lion, I'd have not them think us brigands." You whispered it to Dunk, and his eyes met yours and again, you wonder what it was with every single one of your friends.

    They smiled sadly before he nodded and called the march forward.

    You rode softly into the camp and made out a few men, nobles, sellswords, and hedge knights. Each coming to make gold or a name at the sight of this, the beginnings of a battle not seen since the Ruby Ford.

    "Lannister gold, they buy men as good as gold some say. I mean to speak with my uncle." You called out among your party. You parted from your horse, and walk among the camp.

    You see him. He's dressed in red armour, his hair is longer that slopes down his nope and to his back. His eyes are weathered but a burning green as he holds a bloodied axe in one hand, with a tankard of ale in the other. Yet one thing remains, his smile, deadly as it is.

    He saw you and his jaw dropped before finally, the two of you embrace. A moment between family, one torn by war and another exiled.

    It's not ten seconds later when you and your core party are seated in his tent. He along with two others seem to be his lieutenants, good for him, he'd need people like this.

    "Nephew! I didn't expect reinforcements. thirty men are better than thirty dead. Please, sit and enjoy. We are only a week's ride away from Casterly Rock. We've made good time and I mean to see a bastard's head on a pike when I enter my home again." He speaks clearly and with a ruthlessness you'd heard, what happened in the month since?

    "Do you know where he is?" Mandon leaned forward, not even taking a tankard and instead focused like the warrior himself on the task at hand.

    "He seats himself in the hills, from what I have gathered. He has gathered 15,000 to his cause. Clansmen and whoever wishes for a better and new life in the west bow to him as Dragon King. He sent the proclamation to all the lords in the west, my father has yet to even raise his household guard. It means we are at a disadvantage." Tyrion didn't seem to notice but you did, his men looked to him with pride, and they followed him.

    You continued to listen, this was going to be a fight for control. Lord or King, family against family in many ways besides the lion. You only sigh and this was to be it, the defining moment.

    ...

    You and Tyrion ride ahead of this army, your knights, loyal friends, and more chant to the skies.

    "You know, I never expected this sort of thing for us. People would see us as little more than deformities, my prince. We are protecting our home, I am sure some of these men would wish to see what you are capable of. If the tales I heard are correct."

    You give him a soft smile. It is a cheeky one but what does your uncle care for it? You mean to shield him and to see the end of this day.

    You both see it in the time. Night has fallen over you all and the castle seats itself in the distance. Tall, imposing, and filled with stories of old.

    Casterly Rock.

    The men only form as you notice them as well, the black banner. A lion spews green flames and this is to be it, the moment where everything changes and you steel yourself, the sense of calm falls over you enough to catch Asha's eyes with a smirk of her own.

    Tyrion raises his axe high, his men don't doubt his mettle. Raising their own in response as he roars in a fearsome boom of his voice as he looked across the field to his home, to those who would dare to take it from him...

    "HEAR ME ROAR!"

    "FOR THE LION LORD!"

    "LORD OGRESBANE!"

    And so...

    They charged.

    ....

    It was not a song of a sword to sword nor a clanging of choirs, it was war, a raucous choir of tunes pierced your ears as you bask in it. The black lion's men fought, they did not baulk at the sight of the sword and walked as if they tales of the north.

    Their death cries didn't pierce the air, they fell graceful and at ease with the death before them. You wonder, what sort of perverse magic was this?

    You feel it thrum, a power burned within you. You see him, Gerold.

    Only, he sees you.

    Suddenly you hear it, a powerful roar that has you gripping your head tight and you hear Asha, her calming ring of a voice but it's dulled by such a burning roar in your mind as you feel your eyes burn a piercing white. SUBMIT! The voice roars, it is him, he wishes to fight you here!? A bastard would not be your better!

    Your fingers bleed and suddenly you call for it...

    The skies crack and thunder pierces the ground as your men, and your allies fight with renewed vigour. You see it, however, a burning eye in your mind, a red piercing eye that watches you with... interest.


    You shake yourself and Gerold is scared, fearful as you gallop towards him on horseback. Only he doesn't stop, he raises his arms to the ar and what in the beyond is that!?

    Out from the earth, rumbles and you look to your allies who fight and continue to cut down men with ease.

    Wait, black fur, piercing white eyes. Those are ogres!

    Not a single one but five look to you and each roar their ascent, you unsheathe your swod only for your eyes to widen as Artas and Mandon rush forward.

    They protect you, their swords glistening with blood and they rush!

    You see it for all its glories, Artas unsheathes another blade, he is a man possessed, skillfully. He cuts down not one, not two, but three ogres with ease. He only does it with a renewed gleam of challenge in his eyes as he looks to Mandon whose sword is glistening with the ichor of Ogres, the two of them had beaten them, they'd-

    "TOMMEN!"

    That song, its-

    You see her. Black hair and amber-coloured eyes, she looks at you with shock. There is something in those eyes, you don't know what but it scares you enough that you've lost focus as Gerold rushes you. His body glistens with a pulsing ivory aura. His eyes narrowed on you and it's all you can do before you feel sluggish.

    What did she do?

    Unsheathing your blade, you duel with him, it's the clang of metal to metal, a song as old as time before he's cut you. A cry passes your lips and he got you, blood pours from your cheek and you feel her, she tries to help.

    Asha is overwhelmed, it's a battle of fierce magic and you feel her aura, a pulsing crimson grows around you. Gerold looks at you with worry before you two are at it again, he tries to swipe, to use the dirtiest tactics in the book but he does little as you twirl your blade and swipe his thigh.

    Blood pools from him as well, the two of you stand to your feet as you knock him back. A punch is all it takes to send him falling to the ground and you thrust it high.

    Your sword gleams in the sun, you feel it, your skin burns and your eyes dare to be open as lighting bursts from the sky...

    You feel her, calming you still as your lightning lands flush and Gerold's body is set alight with lightning. His skin is a blackened mess of blood and soot, his skin peels and his eyes continue to burn a fierce white as you see it now.

    "You did it. Hahaha, you fool. Is that what you feel? The power of Urthemiel through your veins? You are a pawn, Gerold. As much as I, no crown will make you his better." You croak out, your voice breaking and tired.

    He doesn't respond, he means to end you here tonight.

    "Fine. Brother, one of us will die here this day. It will not be me." You roar to him, your blade becomes an extension of yourself. You are sluggish before you see it in true fashion.

    Horns grow from his head, Gerold smirks as his eyes shift to brilliant ivory and finally his body heals with ease. The power of the Old One. His body bursts with muscles and he twirls his blade with renewed health, this is his power.

    .....

    He brings his sword to your neck and you fight him off, a clang of steel as a series of moves only brings him closer to lopping your head off but he just can't do it and so you fight with a fury thought lost to you.

    You swing back, and the whistling cry of your blade only threatens to give him a haircut and more if he grows closer. His eyes widen and you watch him, he is fearful of your reprisal. You are supposed to be done, to be tired.

    You fought for them, for these people. You'd protect them to your dying breath if it meant he followed you to... wherever.

    "GIVE UP! SUBMIT TO ME!" He roars to you again and he is sloppy, his blade only manages to whistle with all the strength of a dragon but none of the wisdom. He is strong, you will give him that but smart? You'd had better.

    You twirl and swing, your blade does it and he cries with all the screeches of a dragon.

    You did it, his blade severed from his hand and blood gushed from the new stump at the end of his sword hand.

    "Never. If you think I mean to submit, you don't deserve this power!" You raise the sword high, lighting imbues it as you swing it down-

    Choked gasps escape you and the sword parts from your grip, your eyes bulge and lips pool with black ichor as Gerold stands wobbly to his feet, cries still escaping him as he grips you in a tight magical hold...

    "I deserve this power, traitor. Father gifted me as such, you, are a little boy playing a very different game. I win..." He roars at you with spittle passing his lips before you feel her...

    'Not today, Ogre. FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!'

    Asha cries weakly and you do...

    It burns, oh both old gods and new, does this burn! How the crimson aura bursts with a colourful life that does little to calm your senses. You look at him and you burst free from his hold, you unsheathe a dagger and pierce his body...

    You stab him without remorse, you don't know how many you've stabbed him. Maybe six, seven, or ten. It didn't matter...

    "Die, bastard!" Your breaths croak and your eyes water as you see the life drain from his eyes.

    You breathlessly land on your back, next to the body as finally, you hear them...

    "THE BLACK LION IS DEAD!"

    You smile, you had won...

    ...

    Over the next six years, you have been renowned for killing an Ogre and killing the bastard King, Gerold, leading men with Lord Tyrion Lannister, saviour of the Westerlands.

    With this, what have you done?

    You are now twelve years of age. Hailed as Lord Ogresbane, Prince of Nowhere, and Saviour of Casterly Rock. You've garnered men to your banner and since that night, since the battle. You have been plagued, being dragged back to that night, you wake in chills and only certain people even understand you now.

    Ravens arrive with messages, some look for betrothals but others are men. Looking to pledge and support you in a campaign throughout Essos...

    Times change and so will you...

    ....

    Sword and Shield: Skilled > Epic (+35 to combat rolls.)
    Riding: Learned > Skilled (+25 to riding rolls)
    I Am Lighting: 1d50 die > 1d50+10
    Call of the Storm: 1d20 die > 1d20+5 die
    ...

    Pick 6
    [] - Throughout the city, people cry your name, Lord Ogresbane. They wish to see you, some even speak of building you a ship.

    [] - Cregan wishes to be entertained, there seems to be a group of travelling mummers from Essos that have made it to port.

    [] - Dorea seems sullen, in the last few years, she and Asha have grown closer. You don't know what it is but something is wrong, they rarely speak to you now.

    [] - Asha wishes to speak, well, more that she dragged you and the rest of your friends to the tavern. You four have rarely had time alone she says.

    [] - There are letters from Mother, she's sent them yearly. In the last few, you've yet to respond to this one. You miss her, even if you've spent most of the last years in Lannisport.

    [] - Uncle Tyrion is calling for you. He is summoning you and Asha to Casterly Rock, something about his lord father, Tywin. You wonder, there have been rumours about this since...

    [] - A Dornish host is arriving in the city, it is said to be holding Arianne Martell and Dorea's sisters, Obara, Tyene, and Elia. They've yet to see their sister since it seems. Especially with what they've heard about you.

    [] - A delegation from the Reach arrives from Highgarden, it carries Loras, Olenna, and Margery Tyrell. They've come to speak with Lord Tyrion, though you notice how the eyes of their guard linger on you and Cregan.

    [] - There was a letter from a sellsword company in the east, Gaerys has contacted you. There are tales of his exploits and how he has won Myr plenty of battles, but little else. You wonder why he contacts you.

    [] - Your aunt Genna wishes to talk, in the two years you have rested in Lannisport, she has been your rock. A surrogate mother that she is, has always checked on you, especially with your night terrors.

    [] - You mean to leave Lannisport now. There are plenty of places to visit, to see, and you wonder where that could be...
    [] - Write In

    ....

    A/N: This was something else.

    If you are worried about Morrigan, don't be, all will be revealed in due time.
     
    Last edited:
  • Threadmarks
    • [X] - Dorea seems sullen, in the last few years, she and Asha have grown closer. You don't know what it is but something is wrong, they rarely speak to you now.

    [X] - Asha wishes to speak, well, more that she dragged you and the rest of your friends to the tavern. You four have rarely had time alone she says.

    [X] - A Dornish host is arriving in the city, it is said to be holding Arianne Martell and Dorea's sisters, Obara, Tyene, and Elia. They've yet to see their sister since it seems. Especially with what they've heard about you.

    [X] - A delegation from the Reach arrives from Highgarden, it carries Loras, Olenna, and Margery Tyrell. They've come to speak with Lord Tyrion, though you notice how the eyes of their guard linger on you and Cregan.

    [X] - There are letters from Mother, she's sent them yearly. In the last few, you've yet to respond to this one. You miss her, even if you've spent most of the last years in Lannisport.

    [X] - Uncle Tyrion is calling for you. He is summoning you and Asha to Casterly Rock, something about his lord father, Tywin. You wonder, there have been rumours about this since...
     
    [X] - Dorea seems sullen, in the last few years, she and Asha have grown closer. You don't know what it is but something is wrong, they rarely speak to you now.

    [X] - Asha wishes to speak, well, more that she dragged you and the rest of your friends to the tavern. You four have rarely had time alone she says.

    [X] - A Dornish host is arriving in the city, it is said to be holding Arianne Martell and Dorea's sisters, Obara, Tyene, and Elia. They've yet to see their sister since it seems. Especially with what they've heard about you.

    [X] - A delegation from the Reach arrives from Highgarden, it carries Loras, Olenna, and Margery Tyrell. They've come to speak with Lord Tyrion, though you notice how the eyes of their guard linger on you and Cregan.

    [X] - There are letters from Mother, she's sent them yearly. In the last few, you've yet to respond to this one. You miss her, even if you've spent most of the last years in Lannisport.

    [X] - Uncle Tyrion is calling for you. He is summoning you and Asha to Casterly Rock, something about his lord father, Tywin. You wonder, there have been rumours about this since...
     
    [X] - A Dornish host is arriving in the city, it is said to be holding Arianne Martell and Dorea's sisters, Obara, Tyene, and Elia. They've yet to see their sister since it seems. Especially with what they've heard about you.

    [X] - Dorea seems sullen, in the last few years, she and Asha have grown closer. You don't know what it is but something is wrong, they rarely speak to you now.

    [X] - Asha wishes to speak, well, more that she dragged you and the rest of your friends to the tavern. You four have rarely had time alone she says.

    [X] - There are letters from Mother, she's sent them yearly. In the last few, you've yet to respond to this one. You miss her, even if you've spent most of the last years in Lannisport.

    [X] - Uncle Tyrion is calling for you. He is summoning you and Asha to Casterly Rock, something about his lord father, Tywin. You wonder, there have been rumours about this since...

    [X] - Your aunt Genna wishes to talk, in the two years you have rested in Lannisport, she has been your rock. A surrogate mother that she is, has always checked on you, especially with your night terrors.
     
    [X] - Cregan wishes to be entertained, there seems to be a group of travelling mummers from Essos that have made it to port.

    [X] - Throughout the city, people cry your name, Lord Ogresbane. They wish to see you, some even speak of building you a ship.

    [X] - Cregan wishes to be entertained, there seems to be a group of travelling mummers from Essos that have made it to port.

    [X] - Dorea seems sullen, in the last few years, she and Asha have grown closer. You don't know what it is but something is wrong, they rarely speak to you now.

    [X] - There are letters from Mother, she's sent them yearly. In the last few, you've yet to respond to this one. You miss her, even if you've spent most of the last years in Lannisport.

    [X] - A delegation from the Reach arrives from Highgarden, it carries Loras, Olenna, and Margery Tyrell. They've come to speak with Lord Tyrion, though you notice how the eyes of their guard linger on you and Cregan.

    I thought we were going to get a quest end, but it looks like we pulled through with a bit of ptsd, maybe mystic, nightmares.
     
    RookDeSuit said:
    I thought we were going to get a quest end, but it looks like we pulled through with a bit of ptsd, maybe mystic, nightmares.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...

    Rook, don't even get me started. There's a reason for that ending as the rolls were so close, its not even funny :p Tommen almost went rip.

    EDIT: Also you voted Cregan twice. :p
     
    [X] - Throughout the city, people cry your name, Lord Ogresbane. They wish to see you, some even speak of building you a ship.

    [X] - Dorea seems sullen, in the last few years, she and Asha have grown closer. You don't know what it is but something is wrong, they rarely speak to you now.

    [X] - Asha wishes to speak, well, more that she dragged you and the rest of your friends to the tavern. You four have rarely had time alone she says.

    [X] - Uncle Tyrion is calling for you. He is summoning you and Asha to Casterly Rock, something about his lord father, Tywin. You wonder, there have been rumours about this since...

    [X] - A delegation from the Reach arrives from Highgarden, it carries Loras, Olenna, and Margery Tyrell. They've come to speak with Lord Tyrion, though you notice how the eyes of their guard linger on you and Cregan.

    [X] - There was a letter from a sellsword company in the east, Gaerys has contacted you. There are tales of his exploits and how he has Myr plenty of battles, but little else. You wonder why he contacts you.

    God am I interested in this company. My best wishes are that somehow this questline will allow us to acquire Blackfyre for the ultimate Rogue Prince LARP.
     
    Last edited:
    Adhoc vote count started by Dyeus on Nov 8, 2022 at 7:25 PM, finished with 7 posts and 5 votes.
    • [X] - Dorea seems sullen, in the last few years, she and Asha have grown closer. You don't know what it is but something is wrong, they rarely speak to you now.
      [X] - Asha wishes to speak, well, more that she dragged you and the rest of your friends to the tavern. You four have rarely had time alone she says.
      [X] - There are letters from Mother, she's sent them yearly. In the last few, you've yet to respond to this one. You miss her, even if you've spent most of the last years in Lannisport.
      [X] - Uncle Tyrion is calling for you. He is summoning you and Asha to Casterly Rock, something about his lord father, Tywin. You wonder, there have been rumours about this since...
      [X] - A Dornish host is arriving in the city, it is said to be holding Arianne Martell and Dorea's sisters, Obara, Tyene, and Elia. They've yet to see their sister since it seems. Especially with what they've heard about you.
      [X] - A delegation from the Reach arrives from Highgarden, it carries Loras, Olenna, and Margery Tyrell. They've come to speak with Lord Tyrion, though you notice how the eyes of their guard linger on you and Cregan.
      [X] - Throughout the city, people cry your name, Lord Ogresbane. They wish to see you, some even speak of building you a ship.
      [X] - Your aunt Genna wishes to talk, in the two years you have rested in Lannisport, she has been your rock. A surrogate mother that she is, has always checked on you, especially with your night terrors.
      [X] - Cregan wishes to be entertained, there seems to be a group of travelling mummers from Essos that have made it to port.
      [X] - There was a letter from a sellsword company in the east, Gaerys has contacted you. There are tales of his exploits and how he has Myr plenty of battles, but little else. You wonder why he contacts you.
    Click to expand...
     
    [X] - Throughout the city, people cry your name, Lord Ogresbane. They wish to see you, some even speak of building you a ship.

    [X] - Dorea seems sullen, in the last few years, she and Asha have grown closer. You don't know what it is but something is wrong, they rarely speak to you now.

    [X] - Asha wishes to speak, well, more that she dragged you and the rest of your friends to the tavern. You four have rarely had time alone she says.

    [X] - There are letters from Mother, she's sent them yearly. In the last few, you've yet to respond to this one. You miss her, even if you've spent most of the last years in Lannisport.

    [X] - Uncle Tyrion is calling for you. He is summoning you and Asha to Casterly Rock, something about his lord father, Tywin. You wonder, there have been rumours about this since...

    [X] - There was a letter from a sellsword company in the east, Gaerys has contacted you. There are tales of his exploits and how he has Myr plenty of battles, but little else. You wonder why he contacts you.
     
    [X] - A Dornish host is arriving in the city, it is said to be holding Arianne Martell and Dorea's sisters, Obara, Tyene, and Elia. They've yet to see their sister since it seems. Especially with what they've heard about you.

    [X] - Dorea seems sullen, in the last few years, she and Asha have grown closer. You don't know what it is but something is wrong, they rarely speak to you now.

    [X] - Asha wishes to speak, well, more that she dragged you and the rest of your friends to the tavern. You four have rarely had time alone she says.

    [X] - There are letters from Mother, she's sent them yearly. In the last few, you've yet to respond to this one. You miss her, even if you've spent most of the last years in Lannisport.

    [X] - Uncle Tyrion is calling for you. He is summoning you and Asha to Casterly Rock, something about his lord father, Tywin. You wonder, there have been rumours about this since...

    [X] - Your aunt Genna wishes to talk, in the two years you have rested in Lannisport, she has been your rock. A surrogate mother that she is, has always checked on you, especially with your night terrors.
     
    [X] - Dorea seems sullen, in the last few years, she and Asha have grown closer. You don't know what it is but something is wrong, they rarely speak to you now.

    [X] - Asha wishes to speak, well, more that she dragged you and the rest of your friends to the tavern. You four have rarely had time alone she says.

    [X] - A Dornish host is arriving in the city, it is said to be holding Arianne Martell and Dorea's sisters, Obara, Tyene, and Elia. They've yet to see their sister since it seems. Especially with what they've heard about you.

    [X] - A delegation from the Reach arrives from Highgarden, it carries Loras, Olenna, and Margery Tyrell. They've come to speak with Lord Tyrion, though you notice how the eyes of their guard linger on you and Cregan.

    [X] - There are letters from Mother, she's sent them yearly. In the last few, you've yet to respond to this one. You miss her, even if you've spent most of the last years in Lannisport.

    [X] - Uncle Tyrion is calling for you. He is summoning you and Asha to Casterly Rock, something about his lord father, Tywin. You wonder, there have been rumours about this since...
     
    [X] - Throughout the city, people cry your name, Lord Ogresbane. They wish to see you, some even speak of building you a ship.

    [X] - Dorea seems sullen, in the last few years, she and Asha have grown closer. You don't know what it is but something is wrong, they rarely speak to you now.

    [X] - Asha wishes to speak, well, more that she dragged you and the rest of your friends to the tavern. You four have rarely had time alone she says.

    [X] - Uncle Tyrion is calling for you. He is summoning you and Asha to Casterly Rock, something about his lord father, Tywin. You wonder, there have been rumours about this since...

    [X] - A delegation from the Reach arrives from Highgarden, it carries Loras, Olenna, and Margery Tyrell. They've come to speak with Lord Tyrion, though you notice how the eyes of their guard linger on you and Cregan.

    [X] - There was a letter from a sellsword company in the east, Gaerys has contacted you. There are tales of his exploits and how he has Myr plenty of battles, but little else. You wonder why he contacts you.
     
    Vote closed
  • Voting
    • Scheduled vote count started by Dyeus on Nov 8, 2022 at 6:52 AM, finished with 14 posts and 9 votes.
    Click to expand...
     
  • Voting
    • 16. Wings, Words, and Prideful things.
  • Threadmarks
    • 16. Wings, Words, and Prideful things.​

    There was a saying: Dark Wings, Dark Words.

    Ravens signalled war, betrothal, and little merry to some but you.

    Six years had passed since the defeat of the Lion King. A stain atop the West's rich history and legacy of maintaining propriety and loyalty, depending on which story.

    Praise came as easily as gold in these peaceful times and lords clamoured for your hand. You were hailed as a hero, far and wide throughout the Westerlands.

    [ Relations Changed with Principal Houses of the Westerlands! ]

    Had you been a dragon with soft lilac eyes and a mane of pearly white hair, you imagine lords would have offered armies and history would know you as Daemon the Second.

    During these times, your mother had been no different and ravens flew to and from King's Landing. They had been frequent but this last one was worrisome.

    Dearest Tommen,

    You are something of a warrior now, is that not the word? I long to see you once again and mayhaps one day I will. Until then, know that I am safe in our home and Jaime is at my side, years since your progress of the realm. We hope you come visit home soon enough, there has been some trouble as of late. The Faith continues to exert some effort throughout the court, there are murmurings of something, but worry your head much my son. Our claws are sharp and as long as sharp as theirs...

    Love you.

    Your mother.

    You blink away glistening tears. You know there is not much mention of Durran or Robert but to hear something of the Faith, you imagine these six years have done little to cool their clutching hands and overzealous thoughts.

    Your nose crinkles before you are seated in front of the mirror, and you stare for a long while.

    To see your mismatched eyes and you don't baulk away from them. You smile in spite of them, your lips split into a smile, and there it is, the scar that runs along from your cheek to your jaw.

    Dorea always said it'd make you handsome, she'd not be wrong nor had she been right.

    KNOCK KNOCK!

    "Tommen! Let us go! I do not wish to be on the end of Asha's axe now!" Cregan roars, swaggering through with a flourish of northern leathers and furs. He changed not a lick, yet he had a mane of brown hair and patches of stubble at his jaw.

    "Be careful, Stark, for all we know you may trip and fall into a woman." You tease him and he manages a wolfish smirk before tossing an arm over his shoulder, he didn't have shame

    If you were the peaceful one with little to say often, Cregan had howled to the heavens and ruined many a wench of the West. Noble houses came to complain, to cast shame on the Stark of Winterfell.

    Only many hailed and praised him, the Wolf of the West. A title which he bore with pride and eyes set in a daring smirk that wished for a challenge, he had none.

    "If it is a tavern, I do not wish for it. After the last time, Jasen only tolerates your mere presence. Are you a lackwit now as well?" Your voice wobbles, even as he manages to crane his neck high and look up at you.

    He shakes his head and you hear him mumble something under his breath.

    "How are you so tall and yet so quiet? Give it another four years, and you'll see. The ladies may wish to praise you more than me, I have to enjoy such things. A wench in my lap and a belly full of mead, what other wishes do I have to crave?" He snorts and takes you along, it is not long before you two are spotted out and strolling the street.

    The city thrives and the people clamour for your attention, even now, there is little they do. Your men do not allow it, the Battle of the West had done more than forge personalities through steel and soot.

    It had gathered men, sellswords and sworn shields knelt to you within the moon, many within the year, and a partial force had surrounded you and the ones you cared for.

    [ A Band of Swords sworn to you! ]

    "Lord Saviour!" They hailed and cried, mothers, daughters, and boys each looked to you with varying degrees of adoration. There were some who went the extra league, pies, clothes, and newly crafted steel for you.

    The smallfolk of the West were ever proud to have a Prince as kind and warm as you.

    They even hailed you with a personalized name, a band of justice and might throughout...

    [] - The Prince's Pride
    [] - Sons of Steel
    [] - Ogre's Company
    [] - Write In

    "What is it you do that makes them cry for you? Do they wish the cold of the North left their rocky west of a land?" Cregan is ever a tease and cunt but he means well, with his adoring smirks and how he manages to find himself in the chambers of lowborn and lady alike.

    His nature knows no bounds.

    "HAIL!" You hear a cry and then it rises, the town seems alight with excitement and it travels far enough to you two. It takes you a second to see what all the commotion is all about before Dorea and Asha materialize at your side.

    "What are you two ladies doing here? I thought we were to meet at the tavern! Artas, what is this?"

    Artas smirks, a little too like Dorea and he shrugs impishly. "Do you not know? The Princess, Arianne, and her sisters, are riding into the city. Look, there they are now!"

    You see it, the sun-burnt orange banner of House Martell. The red sun pierced by a spear, accompanied by a host of 300 Men, left little to be said of trust between the West and Dorne. Only, you'd find your eyes straying to a different pair of dark eyes, they held yours too.

    Ringed hair that framed a perfectly sculptured face with rosy cheeks and soft lips like that of a duck roaming a lake. It all came together in a Myrish gown with a Lyseni red lace to tie it together as she stepped out of her carriage. She was beautiful, you'd known yourself to be staring quite a bit as Dorea pinches your side.

    "Tommen, is it so polite to stare at my cousin?" Dorea grouses, her eyes pointed and glaring into the side of your skull that you'd thought daggers pricked your thoughts.

    Wait.

    Cousin!?

    ....

    "Dearest Dorea, you never said much about your tall, brooding, and silent type friend here. What am I to make of this? Have I left a royal so speechless?" Arriane's voice travels to you, even as she sits across from you and her voice is as husky and daring as possible. She was a magical thing, leaving little to your imagination.

    It doesn't take long for Dorea to put a finger on your shoulder and she curls into you, dark eyes cutting into her cousin's.

    Silent and as observing you are, there is something amiss here.

    Asha was about as subtle as a bloody drunken sailor sloshing his tankard.

    "Tom! A song?" He manages to lilt a little, managing all the song and grace of a bard. You crane your brow, you'd never sung in your life.

    It did not matter, seconds you were spared and soon they were on you like crows to blood.

    "You sing? My, in all the tales, Prince Ogresbane does so much. Save the ladies and with a loyal wolf at his side, You keep whispers from me, Prince?" Arianne does everything to bring your eyes to hers and you find that you have no wish to leave.

    "Dorea! How could you? I always wondered about those tales, can you sing for us?" Nymeria speaks with a heavy accent, her voice drawing you and your focus is on her wine-red lips as slowly her lips draw back in a careful smirk.

    You only manage a careful glare. "Another time, I dare not ruin a night with a song of tragedy. Instead, I wish to know of you four. I have yet to hear of the illustrious Sand Snakes and the Princess. I find myself done a disservice, please, regale me." You spun it softly and the girls only smile, all too ready to talk.

    They did, you hear many things and only manage to see the ladies a little more than the nobles do. Bastards they were, but they had a bond like no other with their father. You recall a mention or two but they kept it minimum, you think it a sour subject as Arianne only quietens with little input.

    "My, look at the night sky. We should be off, but another time, my prince. I do hope you will join me. Will you? To escort me about Lannisport, I wish to know everything and I think you will be just the Lord to join me so..." Arianne is soft-spoken, like a maiden almost and the looks she give you, is nothing of that sort.

    [] - Join Arianne for a stroll, she means to know Lannisport and what harm is there in that? (???)
    [] - You will have to pass on that, she has been a joy but you may have another that can escort her!

    You all are well into the night of mead and song, Asha and Cregan dance on tables as you and Dorea laugh at their antics.

    "I've missed it, we have no time for this anymore. Everything is changing, Cregan is either drinking, fighting, or whoring. Sometimes he does all of those three within the day, Asha is the only that talks to me. Why don't we Tommen, what happened?" She is drunk. You don't need much because you are too, your eyes strain to make out the blurry vision of black hair and dark eyes.

    You only reach for her fingers and snort, a waft of mead and cheese hits you like an Ogre. Seven above, you'd both need to wash out your mouths after this.

    "Dorea, we- I, we're friends! Don't worry! I mean, I'm always going to take you with me! Wherever, Winterfell, Highgarden, you're not going to be forgotten. Dorea Sand, friend and greatest advisor to Tommen Ogresbane..." You murmur and pay little attention to how Dorea's cheeks flush and she leans into you again.

    You too are drifting in and out of sleep, you only manage to catch the tail end of her words

    "...I love that and..." Sleep had taken you like a scoundrel in the night and little would you remember of that night beside a headache and a strange feeling of loss.

    Perhaps another time, when you are neither being accosted by Dornish women with their fiery wiles and tales of the sandy dunes would you have more time for one of your closest friends in a moment like this.

    [ Relationships Gained! ]
    ....

    Pain.

    The sunlit stream beams down on you and your eyes are sore enough as they are open to see a mane of hair accompanying you abed.

    Your eyes widen and your cheeks flush as you feel the strange sensation of an itch, you sit up with only a grunt before you find yourself looking as if you were a Cregan double.

    What in the Old Gods had happened to you?

    You looked like a northern lord, you struggle to manoeuvre without waking your bedmate, only to glance and see...

    Cregan!?

    "Oi! Put out the sun!" Of course, he only wants to sleep as if the question of why he is here is not of importance, actually, wait.

    Your eyes take in the chambers and piece by piece, you come to realize.

    This is not your chamber.

    "Cregan! Wake up!" You shake him, of course, he's prepared and has a dirk at your throat before you blink, only for you to quickly manhandle him and make him stand. To think, after all these years he thought to pull a blade on you.

    You were a prince, at least show a little respect, with the thought you give him a little smirk as he stretches with little comfort.

    "My dearest Tommen, why are you waking me? Gysella only allows so little sleep in an establishment like this and I do not wish for her voice to scold me like fire. So, again, why are you waking me?" He groans, seating himself back down on the comfortable warmth that is the bed, and only musters a sullen glare.

    "Question and I hope you have the answer, why are we here? What even happened last night and why do I look like I've crossed the neck!?" You catch his smirk and before you can cut him off he chuckles, standing in little else but small clothes and leather trousers.

    He pours himself a glass of wine, offering you a sup of the delicacy that is Arbor Gold before you decline with a snort. As if you are to touch the shite again after last night.

    "Well, Asha took Dorea to another chamber not too far from ours and we were too close to take you to your chambers. Many of the guards were in their tankards, so we made the choice, and took you here. Now, if you wish to break your fast, let us go."

    There is one more question and he casts a small finger upon you as if he's come to a grand old epiphany. Again, you thought this with fondness, cunt.

    "As for the clothes, you ruined yours. Asha did say you looked handsome, ruggedly so. I think it was just the ale, however." He pokes again and you are pulled along through what you know to be a whorehouse.

    You are seated and find Asha with an equally embarrassed Dorea who catches your eyes for a second.

    "Asha! Dare I guess you had the talk with your one? A night out and suddenly they believe us irresponsible!" He laughs, by seven does he laugh with a right grunt and little care if he drums your head like a repeating gong of bells.

    Asha snorts as she leans back, it takes you a moment but you manage to catch a hint of care in her eyes. She always worried about you, especially after that night.

    You hadn't spoken to her privately but in the years, there was little for you to worry about, at least you thought as much.

    "Hm. I think we should have them with us more often, I never thought Dorea could sing so well, like a tale of old. Bah, allow them this! Eat, be merry, and ah, lest I forget Tommen, I will accompany you today. Your uncle summoned on the morn, private." She musters a smooth voice that is silken and mesmerizing how it eases you, like a low whisper on the wind.

    Your eyes blink in a heavy daze for a moment before you shake yourself, glaring before she shrugs and you eat. You do wonder, what is there for you and Uncle Tyrion to discuss?

    You guess it is a matter for later.
    ...

    "If you have dreams, Tommen, you know that you can speak with me. I'm here, don't hide." She approaches softly like you are a wounded stag on the field and your eyes take her in from head to toe.

    You are not the only one who was forged by steel and soot, neither of you spoke about her. The witch of the wilds, Morrigan. You both recalled her, the companion and lover of the Grey Warden, the one who'd slain Urthemiel, and now, she too had crossed through.

    "I'm not hiding, Asha. If I wished to talk, I would have let you know..."

    She snorts and takes your fingers, as you are, many people look upon the scene. All too used to your spats with the sea's mistress, especially with her loyal uncle remaining close.

    "You know you can not lie with me, why do you try such a folly?" She does it smoothly, and her eyes ravenous enough that you only snort in twine with hers.

    You walk, a short distance but you catch something the fair distance and you put it away, though there is something familiar about those men in glimmering steel.

    "Why must it be boring? I am fine-" she takes your leathers and bunches it up into her soot-forged fingers and glares into your eyes. You're not even surprised, instead she takes measures with little pause.

    "You are not. Do not lie to me, I hear things and I know things without our dear friends being the wiser. I let you boil for six years and our friends are neither fine nor alright with what happened to you. I see you are quiet and content to have people fooled, but do not think I am to be like them and wallow. Speak to me, what ails you? Lest I do it through our means." She is silken towards the end and a mist clouds over her eyes, a burning red that seeks to envelop you again like a connection of yarn.

    [] - Speak with Asha about your dreams, about what plagues you. She will not be taking no for an answer, that is for certain.
    [] - You are no mere weakling. Must you speak as if you are a mere babe to be coddled? You will handle it yourself, you were fine these last few years, why must it change?

    "Tommen!" Asha smoothly adjusts and an arm is slung over your shoulder as you look upon Loras Tyrell, he is still no less flowery and gifted than he was six years ago, but he seems adjusted, older and cautious.

    You greet him with a fair nod as you catch a glimpse of a comely lady. She looked alike to Loras, her hair cascaded down the slope of her back, and a green and yellow dress hugs her figure and shows the barest hints of feminity hidden beneath it. She seems to smile at your gaze.

    You see another, almost dainty little thing that you could tower and possibly crush within the palm of your hand. Only you see her eyes, wisdom and age shines true. Weathered skin and the greying top of her hair as she shrewdly smiles upon you, it is all you can do to not frown.

    "Loras, I did not expect you! The city would have hailed if the roses of Highgarden would have greeted us. A pleasure for you all, I do hope you come to enjoy and gaze at the wonder of which is the beauty of Lannisport!" You are just as silken as Asha who looks as if she has bitten into a sour fruit.

    Her eyes narrowed on the beautiful figure who only seemed to curl into Loras and gaze upon you with rapt interest...

    "Hm, beauty? As if you know the thing, boy." She lashes with ease and her eyes bore into yours as you and Asha only take her in with a smile.

    She is dangerous, you should have had Dorea here. It would have been better.

    "I know a little-" she snorts and again, you bit the inside of your cheek.

    "Grandmother, please. I apologize, Prince Tommen. I am Lady Margaery Tyrell, it is a pleasure. I have heard many tales about you through your progress of the West, we wondered when you would stop in the Reach. After all, our people were once allies. I take it Loras would enjoy a bond like that. I, well, your tales would soothe enough.." She is smooth, buttery, and seductive. You'd seen the way her eyes took you in, how they tried to make you look... grander by means above your station.

    Margaery Tyrell. There is something there, the pretty and noble lady indeed.

    "My my, isn't this cosy?" You all look to Bronn, adorned with the finest of leathers and with a dangerous smirk atop his lips.

    You look back to the Tyrells, they seem to have caught you at a bad time as Bronn only signals you and Asha forward before you turn to the Tyrells. Smile in place you only bow your head with a smooth smile.

    "Another time, Lady Margaery, I would wish to hear a lot. Maybe that is where I would go next, the Reach is... a fantastical place which birthed many a great ruler. I would see that land for myself, one day." You id them goodbye as Asha and you stride away, only picking the faintest biting remarks from the old Lady, you imagine you'd done well, considering her words and actions.

    [ Relationships Gained! ]
    ...

    It is only moments that have you changing from a skilled speaker to that of spawn in seconds, you know the look Bronn has on his scarred face is anything from a humorous one.

    For years, Casterly Rock had been the subject of... rumour. Lord Tywin had lost much of fear, his means of power, and the Rains of Castamere began to drift as a fable to all the lords and their families. Yet, his name still held its power and that is when Tyrion brought you through.

    A majestical place with paintings of old kings and newly placed lords, perhaps that was history, to see your mother's home. It was a beautiful thing.

    It is then that you see her, Aunt Genna standing in the grand hall, where lords and peasants alike would petition the Lord Paramount for help. This was no different, she walked and met you, her fingers combed through your hair and brought you low as she whispered softly to you.

    "Are you okay?" She whispers, all meanings in three words.

    You smile and shrug, only catching Asha's eyes later before you are met with Tyrion and Kevan, the two of them look like they've suffered a lot. You don't question it, but you do wait, you greet them with a smile.

    "Lord Saviour." Tyrion musters all the mirth before he greets you with a shake of his hand and you are taken throughout Casterly Rock, the bowels of the castle and you feel it.

    All you take is a deep sniff and it is pungent, it is sickly, perverted, and corrupted. How in all the gods did he attract such a thing? You don't wish to know but something this powerful, something like...

    Pride.

    You don't have to glance her way either, Asha hisses but she pleads for it to stop and it does as you take her hand. She glances to you, softly and with grateful thanks.

    "What is it? We brought you here because Tywin is... sick. He's been sick for the last six years, and he hasn't gotten better. The Maesters can do nothing, all he does is murmur about Father, Gerion, and Tygett. Forgotten people, dead is the more apt word. Why is he dreaming about them? Why does he not wake? Tommen, I know you are... special. We all do, the men in this castle and many of our lords take to you a lot. I beseech you, I plead. Help him." Tyrion pleads and begs as he looks to the door and you hear it, the soft murmurs but you catch Asha and she hears different...

    She softly mutters the Rains of Castamere as dying whispers seem to pass her breath, she is green with sick or disgust.

    "This is not for me, Tommen. Tywin lost the right to act and be my father a long time ago. Perhaps during these six years but as you see, he has a brother and a dear sister who each love him greatly. Do this for them..." He prods you and you both look to the door, there is a way.

    You bow your head and glance at it as if it is the gate itself and for all you know, it is.

    "There is a way. We know what plagues him, a very powerful and relentless beast of a thing. If we are to do this, we are to enter with him or we summon it." Your words are quiet, drawn out and sharp as you hear the hisses from them.

    They did not wish for it.

    "Which is safer for you two?" Tyrion is calm and soft, he seems to understand the premise and this time, you can't give him an answer.

    "Neither." You are sharp with it and so it falls to you....

    [] - Enter, it's been a while since you went in there and you know there is many a creature. You mean to plunge your sword into it and wrench your grandfather out.
    [] - Summon it out. Into the mortal coil, where you will fight like never before and banish it. You will fight creatures and whatever else aids a demon like Pride, this is no small feat.

    ....

    Relationship Gained:

    Arianne Martell: N/A > ???
    Nymeria Sand: N/A > ???
    Tyene Sand: N/A > ???
    Margaery Tyrell: N/A > ???
    Olenna Tyrell: N/A > ???

    ...

    Followers/Men Gained!

    46 Sellswords and Sworn Shields follow you!

    ...

    Relations Gained:

    House Brax of Hornvale: N/A > Ally
    House Prester of Feastifres: N/A > Friendly
    House Lefford of Golden Tooth: N/A > Ally
    House Westerling of The Crag: N/A > Ally
    House Crakehall of Crakehall: N/A > Friendly
    House Silverhill of Silverhill: N/A > Friendly
    House Spicer of Castamere: N/A > Friendly
    House Marbrand of Ashemak: N/A > Friendly
     
    Last edited:
  • Threadmarks
    • [X] - Ogre's Company
    I want a better name but I'm too tired to think of one.
    [X] - You will have to pass on that, she has been a joy but you may have another that can escort her!
    Loyalty to Dorea, lmao.
    [X] - Speak with Asha about your dreams, about what plagues you. She will not be taking no for an answer, that is for certain.
    I refuse to not be open with my friends.
    [X] - Summon it out. Into the mortal coil, where you will fight like never before and banish it. You will fight creatures and whatever else aids a demon like Pride, this is no small feat
    I know this is likely a tradeoff thing? But, I honestly can't think of a reason for going in when we know things are likely waiting to jump us there.
     
    [X] - Ogrebane's Oath
    [X] - You will have to pass on that, she has been a joy but you may have another that can escort her!
    [X] - Speak with Asha about your dreams, about what plagues you. She will not be taking no for an answer, that is for certain.
    I refuse to not be open with my friends.
    [X] - Summon it out. Into the mortal coil, where you will fight like never before and banish it. You will fight creatures and whatever else aids a demon like Pride, this is no small feat

    I didnt like the other options for the name but I also couldnt think of anything good so I just adjusted the first name to something more to my taste.
     
    Last edited:
    [X] - Ogrebane's Oath
    [X] - You will have to pass on that, she has been a joy but you may have another that can escort her!
    [X] - Speak with Asha about your dreams, about what plagues you. She will not be taking no for an answer, that is for certain.
    I refuse to not be open with my friends.
    [X] - Summon it out. Into the mortal coil, where you will fight like never before and banish it. You will fight creatures and whatever else aids a demon like Pride, this is no small feat

    We about to pull an exorcism. Also, it sounds like we should journey to another land for fun. I think a detour up North is in order.
     
    [X] - Sons of Steel

    [X] - You will have to pass on that, she has been a joy but you may have another that can escort her!

    [X] - Speak with Asha about your dreams, about what plagues you. She will not be taking no for an answer, that is for certain.

    [X] - Summon it out. Into the mortal coil, where you will fight like never before and banish it. You will fight creatures and whatever else aids a demon like Pride, this is no small feat
     
    Last edited:
    Reader mode
    You must login or register to reply here.
    Back
    Top