# Asoiaf: A Birth of Crowns.



## Serp (Jun 16, 2011)

A Birth of Crowns
Its been little over a year when all the kings declared, with the Wall and the Westerlands being the last to rise.
But now the battle hath begun.

Jacob Mormont sat upon the Iron throne as he had been doing over about a year now. The 7 kingdoms had scattered among themselves, some rebelled on their own like the Arryns, some like the Lannisters had to join in to remain strong, while some like the Wall had to declare and side with the wildings to protect the wall in order not to seem like siding with any King of Westeros.

Upon the fall of the Red keep, the castle had been held but Dragonstone had been raided and the dragon eggs that belonged to the house had been taken and Mormont suspected were being held by some of these now kings. The eggs would be another reason to start war as the eggs needed the burning of kingly blood to hatch, each king wanting to capture the royalty of each. How did the world get so bad so quickly.

It was like walking on egg shells, the crownlands were weak, but the forces could hold Kings Landing against one army hopefully. The thing was almost anyone could crush the host and claim the throne, but then the throne meant nothing without the other kings bending the knee but it was a place to start. 

If anyone moved to take kings landing they could succeed for sure, but that was if they reached. If they had to carry their army through the lands of other kings War would start. Even if not the other kings would not take it lightly with one king raising his banners and possibly about to gain more men. 

Mormonts fears were starting to realise, his sources told him the Greyjoys might launch a naval attack and the Arryns were stirring. This left him worried, as well as for his own assassination, the hand of the king was one thing but he held the Iron throne, in these times it was merely a sign of power all style and no substance. 

------
Mormont was walking outside when a man jumped him, dressed in fine armour, lacquered red plate. He raised his blade to strike Mormont down. Lately Mormont had taken to carrying his families sword Longclaw, it was a bastard sword and took a while to get to grips with the weight. The attacked swung his sword down, mormont was old but he was still sharp he took out his blade, the Valyrian steel shining in the sky and he sliced through. He sliced through the attackers sword, plate and mail, flesh and then out the other side. 

Mormont sheathed his sword. And walked up the corpse and removed the helmet and upper layer of armour, the attack had hair of spun gold and green eyes of the Lannister, his surcoat was patched with the Eagle of Arryn. 

"Interesting a Lannister dressed as an Arryn." Mormont mused to himself, while that was happening the whispers were already in the air.

The Arryn's captured a Lannister, the Lannisters attacked Kings Landing, the Arryns attacked Kings Landing, it was all a ploy by the Greyjoys, were among the rumours. 


For all Kings, Key Importance on Greyjoy, Lannister and Arryn.​


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## Chaos (Jun 17, 2011)

The heavy iron doors opened. Through the two flanking guards stepped a young man, clad in a knight's armor. He had an arrogant look on his face and his way of walking showed confidence. The man, Joseph Darmont by name, was one of the newer knights, one who had only carried the knight's sword for a few years. And he was a traitor to the throne.

_Let them come. There will be an endless stream of men challenging me. Let them all come, and let them all fail.​_
Jeremiah Greyjoy shifted on his throne. The thing was a solid block of metal, there was simply no comfortable position on it. And this was exactly how it should be. A king should get no rest. A king rules and achieves what the king in question wanted. And Jeremiah Greyjoy was a true king. He would get what he wanted, and no arrogant little fool would stand between him and the Iron Throne.

The younger man strode up to before the throne. He took off his helmet and sank to his knee. Jeremiah sighed. The boy was really thinking that this meeting would benefit him. The man looked at the king and tried to match his stare for a second, but Jeremiah's dead eyes had been unbeaten at that game since his father died, and that last event had only strengthened the sheer power of that gaze.

"Rise, ser Darmont" Jeremiah said. The young knight rose, his eyes going everywhere except to the king's face. The boy had already learned his place a bit, Jeremiah thought. "So, what brings you here?" Of course Jeremiah knew exactly what brought the knight here. His recent rule hadn't quite been popular. Joseph was the first, but certainly not the last person who would come for something like this.

Darmont nodded his head in respect and started speaking. "Your grace, I would request permission to retreat my men from the preparations the army is making." Jeremiah almost started laughing. Almost. "Denied. Leave, ser Darmont." Of course the kid wouldn't leave, of course he wouldn't leave it at this. All kids were the same. Until they saw the truth of this life and world. How happy a place is it, then, when everyone you love is destroyed within a day?

"Your grace, I would ask you to reconsider." Darmont spoke. "We know your goal, everyone does. It is impossible, your grace. The Iron Throne is meant for one of the bigger houses." How dared the kid? How dared he think he knew anything about anything? Joseph Darmont hadn't even wore the armor of the Grey knight for five years.

"And thus you forsake your oath?" Jeremiah's voice had changed into a growl. "Tell me, ser Darmont. Which one of us is a quite newly ordained knight, and which one of us is the Iron King of the Pyke?" His eyes had narrowed, making his wild face even more disturbing. "Your grace, I don't th-" Darmont started speaking, but was brutally interrupted. "It doesn't matter what you think, ser Darmont. I'm your sworn lord."

The young man had clearly not expected this reaction. His face had become very unlordlike, and more like an animal snarl. "Tell me, ser Darmont. Where were you at the time of the Faceless Raid? Crawling around in the shit of some farm animal, no doubt. How much experience do you have, kid? Why do you think you are a better thinker than me?" Joseph Darmont looked scared. Jeremiah was pleased. "Your gra-"

"LOOK AT ME WHEN YOU'RE TALKING!" Jeremiah spat out. "You, a little shit that hasn't fought a single war, are telling me what to do, but you do not even dare lift your eyes." Now Darmont did lift his eyes, and in them shone bright fury. "I don't take orders from a madman."

A deep silence fell in the room. The guardsmen on the sides of the room looked like they were sucking their breath in. Several of them reached for their weapons. Jeremiah smiled now. It was the first time he had smiled in years. There was not a single bit of mirth on his mind though. This was the smile of a powerful man about to speak doom.

Darmont continued. "I won't lead my men into your war." Jeremiah's grin widened even further. "Well spoken, ser Darmont." The young man looked relieved, an expression that was washed off his face stone-cold by Jeremiah's next remark. "Draw your blade, ser Darmont." Jeremiah's grin had now grown to a full-faced smile. A full-faced diabolic smile, that is.

Jeremiah reached to the right side of his throne, picking up the warhammer, his warhammer. The hammer's head resembled a Kraken, the Greyjoy sigil. One side was sharpened into a spike, like the head of the Kraken. On the other side, thousands of tentacles seemed to be interwoven to form a solid hammer head. The whole thing was a true work of art, but Jeremiah didn't view it as thus. It was a weapon, and it had done it's job perfectly for almost 400 years.

Jeremiah stood up, the hammer in hand. "Didn't you hear me, ser Darmont? Draw your blade." Darmont stepped back. "What is the meaning of this?" He demanded to know. Of course. The young ones always demanded, thinking themselves so important. Jeremiah casually trotted forward. "It's the answer to your problem, of course, ser Darmont." The king wasn't wearing any armor, but he looked savage indeed. He hadn't been shaved in years, and the clothes he wore didn't look the king's part. Jeremiah looked more like an animal than a human. Maybe that was fitting, even he himself had to admit.

"You said you don't want to lead your men into war. If I die, you don't have to. If you die, you don't have to either, because I will do it in that case." Darmont looked stricken. "I won't fight you, my grace." A laugh welled up from Jeremiah, a frightening laugh. "Well, that'll just make it easier for me, no?"

Now Darmont did draw his blade. All over the room, guardsmen did the same. Jeremiah just kept on strolling. "If any of you guys hurt my prey, I will feed you to the kraken personally." Darmont posed his sword before him in standard battleposition. "I don't want to fight you, my grace, but if this is the situation I'm in, I won't relent." Jeremiah just snarled and gripped his warhammer with two hands. "Look how pure your sword is, ser Darmont. Not one chip, I can see. Not one little blemish. It's the sword of a fool, the sword of an apprentice to the art of war." 

Jeremiah feinted left. Darmont responded with a perfect textbook parry and counter. His blade moved for the king's head. Jeremiah smiled again and brought his warhammer up high, intercepting the blade. He then threw up his leg with frightening speed. The leg exploded in Darmont's crotch area, causing him to reflexively cramp, losing his focus for a second. Jeremiah's hammer smashed on the man's head, going right through his skull. Joseph Darmont, minus one head stood for a second longer, then dropped to the ground. Jeremiah spat on the corpse and returned to his not-so-comfortable throne.

"Someone remove that body. Also, find this man's troops. Tell them their commander is suffering from a severe case of death and that they've been selected for a forward scouting mission on the seas. If any of them don't follow those orders, tell them to come visit me." The guardsmen started moving. They didn't say a word. They knew Jeremiah wouldn't listen anyway. He was the king, and it was a solid fact. After the horrors of the Faceless Raid, no one questioned that anymore. 

Two guards left, carrying the headless body of the late Joseph Darmont. Another left to relay the message about Darmont's troops. Jeremiah just sat in his throne, enjoying the moment, steeling his determination, like he had done every single second since that fateful day all those years ago. The throne would be his. The Realm would know, and the Realm would suffer. And woe to all who stood against him. Jeremiah stopped observing the kraken head of his hammer and put it back against the throne. One by one, they would come. And one by one, they would fall.


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## Damaris (Jun 18, 2011)

It was always the Sword of the Morning who was invited to conferences with the Lord of House Dayne and his heir about matters of the world, never their second son, never their brother. Castion had always been glad of his position's freedom, even as a child when he had not quite understood it, and by now the summonings for the knight rather than the man were not the bitter stone they had been when he was younger and bright with pride at finally becoming useful, but an accepted fact of life. The sun rose in the east, the wind would always blow stronger than him, and his use to his house was for what he was, not himself. This was nothing he could change, only something he could work with.

There were some who might have labeled Castion a _tad_ too philosophical for a soldier, but there were long and lonely hours on the training field where he was his only company, and thinking was his only escape.

His father--the lord, rather--was standing by the fireplace, his brother sprawled out in a green armchair across from him. Castion hesitated for a moment in the doorway, wondering if he had misheard the servant who had come scurrying for him in the stables, out of breath and insisting the lord wanted to see the Sword of the Morning right away. The two of them looked as if they had been arguing, jaws set hard and faces turned away from each other, rather than awaiting the start of a meeting. 

Castion brushed a hand to the comforting weight of Dawn at his side--rarely was she from his side now, not in these times of upheaval--and cleared his throat, announcing himself: *"You'd wanted me, my lord?"*

The lord turned to him at that. The fireplace shadows that cut across his face threw his profile into darkness and turned him younger, the gray and white in his hair turned to black, the sunken lines around his eyes obscured. 

*"Yes,"* he said. *"I have a task for you."*

At this, his older--no, the heir, gave a derisive snort. Castion held himself still, unaware of what politics were in play between the two of them. He and the heir had been close as children, but time and the responsibilities of different destinies had driven--not a wedge between them, for there was no loss of love or argument to mark their falling out--but a space that could not be breached for as long as they were who they were. The heir would one day command the Sword of the Morning, send him to battle and one day to death, most likely, and there was no room for the love of an older brother in that. 

Which meant that the two of them were grappling over something else, and Castion suppressed a shudder at that. The politics of great houses, of the kings, he could understand, but there was a surged of bitterness in him at _this_. Under the command of kings, you might die for a cause beyond yourself, beyond your king, but the fight of two minor nobles, if it killed him, would be for nothing more than a fleeting advantage, lost within a generation or two.

Oh. Perhaps he was getting too introspective. Those were not the kind of thoughts he ought to be indulging in.

*"You have remained at the side of House Dayne for the past year,"* his lord continued. *"You have fought off petty bandits and thieves while the kings arranged themselves. You are the Sword of the Morning and you have been loyal to Starfall and House Dayne."*

Castion remained silent, his eyes locked upon the intricate red and white carpet, unsure of where this was going.

*"But now it is time to recall your other loyalty. You are sworn not only to House Dayne, but to the Dornish King. Which is why you will set off tomorrow morning for Sunspear, to offer him your services at this time, in whatever way he may see fit to use them. You will take a squadron of soldiers, handpicked to your taste, and serve by his side. Help him take the throne, if that is what pleases him. Do what he commands."*

He was not sure of what his reaction was supposed to be. Shock? Surprise? Neither applied, and he had known that his fealty to the Dornish King was sure to be called upon given the situation of the world. Perhaps not so soon, but sometime.

*"I am happy to serve, my lord, and I will do as you command,"* Castion murmured, lifting his gaze to meet his eyes.

The lord nodded, turned his face to the fire again. Castion nearly took it as a dismissal, taking a step backward, when he suddenly spoke again: *"And remember that while you serve the Dornish King, your greater loyalty remains tied to House Dayne, by both oath and blood. Should we call upon you, should we ask you to do something, even while you remain in his service, remember that."*

His father fell silent and dismissed the Sword of the Morning with a gesture. Castion took the escape silently.

He was halfway to his rooms when he registered the sound of footsteps thumping behind him, a hallway or two behind. Castion paused, a statue in the maze, and waited for the person to catch up. 

The heir clasped him on the shoulder and turned Castion bodily toward him. He was breathing hard, face flushed, and not for the first time, Castion marveled at how different they had become. The same sharp cheekbones, the same dark and tousled hair, cutting gray eyes, but so distant in everything else. 

*"I know not what our father plans,"* his older brother panted, *"But you will not endanger yourself recklessly. You are the Sword of the Morning and a valuable asset, and alone but for a small squad of soldiers, you are the bearer of the greatsword Dawn, and should you fall, it is likely that it would be lost to us. You will be careful."*

Castion let himself smile. *"You could just say that you care, Pellanor."*

His brother frowned, tightened his grip. *"Just remember yourself, Castion,"* he said, and then he had turned on his heel, leaving Castion in the middle of the hallway with a squadron to pick and outfit, a journey to undertake and many questions a knight should not be allowed to ponder in his head.


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## Cursed panda (Jun 18, 2011)

The wall, made of ice and hatred. The people here where also made of ice and hatred. Most of the people here where criminals, sent to the wall to repay society by protecting it from that of the north, then you had the volunteers, mostly poorer men who needed a roof on their heads and a meal. Then you had James. James was a volunteer but not for a normal reason, James volunteered to change the world. To ?whip it into shape? by the power of force and elimination, and now was the time to begin this world change.

James stood on top of the largest tower in Castle Black, overlooking the wall and the men on it. James did this everyday around noon just to see what his men where up to, if he found a slacker he would have them brought to the base of Castle black and then he would proceed to discipline them in some way. Normally it would consist of giving the man a choice of either having a finger cut off or the loss of rations for a  week and a half. Normally rations would be the choice. But on some occasions they would pick the former for whatever reason.

Today though James would cut his watch of the guard short. He had bigger plan today. Descending the tower and coming to the base of Castle Black James walked over to Flint Barracks and slammed the doors open. Everyone stopped what they where doing and looked right at James, James never comes here unless he has an announcement. 

?Attention.? James began and then coughed. ?Attention, are the messengers present? I need to make sure this message reaches the whole wall.? Four men suddenly stood up from different parts of the room. ?Present.? One said and then they sat down. James cleared his throat pulled down his hood and then began talking once again.

?As you may know the kingdoms are currently at edge with each other. We however are not a kingdom. But we still have our own leader and rules and laws. That is one way we are different then them.? James stopped and pulled his hood down more. ?But we are also different in a way that we aren't trash like them. We use a voting system and have our leaders fairly elected.? A small group in the corner of the room let off a cheer and James concealed face turned toward them and immediately ceased it. 

?Now then on to the point. I have a mission. A mission you all are going to help me with. I want to eliminate the kings and set a voting system up for that of the title of lord of the iron throne. I want to eliminate the trash that thinks they are better then that of the common folk. I want to eliminate them and set this country free!? And with that the crowd started cheering.


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## Nicodemus (Jun 18, 2011)

*Winterfell*

"M'lord. M'lord. You must wake."

Bran moaned, rolling out of the thick sheets and feeling the cold bite at his once warm body. He hated waking up - dreams were always more comfortable and easier to bear. Mornings meant having to come to grips with his situation all over again.

_If I could sprout wings and fly,_ he thought to himself. _But wolves have no wings._

"Ah, M'lord, you're awake," Shahla said from somewhere beside him. "Get dressed. We have much to discuss."

"Falcons have wings," Bran said, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and turning to his Mistress of Whispers. "But they never seem to want to use them."

"You've lost me, M'lord." Shahla said with a polite curtsy. "But of course, I'm simply a lowborn girl, not fit to understand the thoughts of kings."

Bran's mouth twitched with the barest hint of a smile. "You're in an odd mood today. I hope the kingdom wasn't too busy while I was asleep."

"Unfortunately for you, it was," Shahla said with a small smile. "The Wall is stirring. Someone there apparently got the idea that it would be best to elect a King for the Iron throne."

Bran stopped short and gave Shahla a long look. She shrugged helplessly. "I don't make them do what they do M'lord. I simply report it to you."

"And I'm glad you do," Bran said, pulling his pants on. I need some paper. And a raven. I'm writing a letter."

"A letter?" Shahla asked, tossing him a cloak. "But to whom? You're in a serious situation here M'lord."

"I know," Bran said. "Believe me, I know. I have to deal with the wall - they'll be marching south with Gods know how many men-"

"Ten thousand, I'd expect," Shahla cut in. "Kavez cannot leave the wall undefended."

"Of course," Bran said with a wry smile. "Winter is coming." He sighed and shook his head. "But he'll be marching with ten thousand men and the first place he'll hit is Winterfell. I can't just invite the other Kings into my territory, that can't end well. And if I spend too long fighting the Black Brothers, one of the Kings will hit me anyway. I need to deal with Kavez, and quickly."

"So what will you do?" Shahla asked. "Truly, I am curious."

"Of course you're curious," Bran said, sitting down. "I pay to be curious." And then he began to write.

_Kavez,

I am not a Kingly man. I will be brief and blunt. Your campaign cannot hope to succeed. You do not have the men, you do not have the resources, and your enemies have a surplus of both.

I do not seek war. You know as well as I do that Winter is Coming. The Black Brothers have a duty to guard the Realms of Men against horrors many only dream of. You cannot do that if you seek to march southward. So I beg you, remember your oath. Stay on the wall. Do not involve yourself with this game, and Winterfell will do all it can to keep you out of it.

If you must continue this crusade however, I offer you a choice. I am King in the North, I can beat you if must. I do not seek to, but if you insist, I will. March around Winterfell. Do not involve us in your war, we seek no part in it. We will not stop you as long as you do not seek to attack us.

Winter is Coming, Lord Commander. We all have parts to play.

-The King in the North
Brandon Stark_

*Important for James Kavez*​


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## Coteaz (Jun 19, 2011)

The egg was beautiful. Swirled with blue and white, the flickering light of the hearth made the colors dance as if alive. When he touched it, caressed it, his fingers could almost feel the fire waiting to be born. Dragons’ fire. _His fire._

	“Your Grace?” The question woke Matthis Arryn from his reverie with a start. The Moon King was at council in his solar, seated at the highest point in the Eyrie and attended by all his retinue. The heirs of the Vale had arrayed themselves in a semicircle, with the most powerful houses at its apex. Proud Rohn Royce held the center, all smiles and eager for glory. Quiet Jon Corbray took the right, Lady Forlorn sheathed on his back. Galbart Grafton sat the left with his gold and guile befitting the scion of Gulltown. 

	The fellows they faced were a strange mix. Matthis Arryn, King in the Vale, sat in his simple heartwood chair. To his right, the King’s brother Marcus tapped his foot and itched for action. To the left, the warlock Xaxus Xar Din smiled his little smile and the pyromancer Allahus wrung his hands. Behind them all, away from the group, sat Maester Kratz with his quill and parchment, ready to record the deliberations to come. 

	“Your Grace, there are reports of an attempt on the Hand’s life. A man of golden hair, yet bearing the sigil of Arryn, assaulted Jacob Mormont in King’s Landing. The city is…unsettled.” Nestor Waynewood fidgeted, unsure whether to continue. Setting his dragon egg to one side, the King in the Vale leaned back in his chair.

	“Ah.” There was silence. Nestor Waynewood began to stutter but settled into his seat at a motion from Rohn Royce, who stood and spoke.

	“We must act, my king. Regardless of this killer’s allegiance, the whole realm is moving to war. Krakens are taking to the seas, lions are fishing for trout, and even the fucking black brothers are moving with their barbarian sluts in tow. My father has raised his swords as you ordered and sits at Runestone with a host near six thousand strong. Tell me, what shall we do?” 

	“A valid point and a sharp question. You are indeed your father’s son, Rohn.” Matthis Arryn nodded to his pyromancer as the heir to Runestone basked in his king’s flattery. “Wisdom, would you be so kind as to relay the other news from the Crownlands?” 

	“Er-hem, yes, yes indeed your most eminent Grace.” The Guild emissary stood, still wringing his hands. “I am most pleased, most pleased indeed, to convey that our guild is most ingratiated to the Moon Crown for its tireless support of the alchemical arts over these past years. Indeed, our Great Wisdom has bid me to inform you noble lords that the Guild has doubled production of the…substance to aid your just cause.” 

	“More wildfire is well and good, but how will it be of aid if we can’t get the bloody stuff?” Ser Marcus narrowed his eyes at the pyromancer. “Unless, of course, the Guild has invested in flying carpets with all the gold we’ve given you.” 

	“Marcus, do not be rude to our esteemed friend.” Matthis leveled his gaze at the assembled Vale lordlings. “The Alchemists’ Guild rivals the Citadel in power and influence. They have friends, many friends, all throughout both King’s Landing and the Crownlands. Friends high and low, in watchtowers and garrisons, in mansions and taverns…friends who will open the door if we but ask.” 

	“This door, would it perhaps be a watery one?” asked Galbart Grafton with a twinkle in his eye, “One that might be reached by a flight of gulls?"

	“Why yes, my friend,” said the King in the Vale, “but what use are gulls without talons?” 

	“Would six thousand talons suffice?” Proud Rohn Royce broke in with a smile on his lips, “Or more?”

	“More.” Matthis Arryn stood, and all men stood with him. “Lord Robar Royce shall lead his host to Gulltown and join with Lords Waynewood and Grafton. The fleet is ready and the way is set. Rohn, Nestor, Galbart – go to your fathers and lend your swords.”

	“My lord father will likely choose to remain in his town,” said Galbart Grafton, “so I shall lead my house’s men in his stead. I believe King’s Landing will suit me.”

_Oh yes_, Matthis thought, _of that I have no doubt_. “This council is dismissed. On the morrow we shall discuss the issue of the West with those remaining. Xaxus Xar Din, stay if you would.” The king’s retinue retired from the solar and the Qartheen warlock remained, smiling his little smile. 

	“Your Grace wishes to discuss dragons, mmm? Answer is not needed, for Xaxus Xar Din knows his king well.” The robed sorcerer gazed at the egg, still smiling. “Fire and blood. That is what a king needs to wake the dragon. So it is known…by the wise.”

	“Not just any fire, though,” said the King in the Vale as he stroked his most precious treasure, “and not just any blood. Wisdom Allahus gives me the first, but only my rival kings can give me the second.” 

	“Is a dragon worth the life of a realm, Your Grace?” Xaxus Xar Din asked with his little smile as he turned and left. 

	Y_es. A thousand times, yes. I will bleed these seven kingdoms dry of their kingsblood…and nothing will stand in the way of this fire._

_My fire._


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## Cursed panda (Jun 19, 2011)

An hour ago James had given his speech. Now he was sitting in his quarters atop of his tower. He looked out the window and saw a crow carrying a letter fly into the rookery. Then five minutes later a man came flying out and toward Jame's tower. He slowly sat up and opened the door, then leaning against the wall he waited for his messenger to bring the letter. A moment later a man came flying up the stairs.

?A letter sir, from that of Winterfell.? The man started panting, the stairs had been to much for him. James took the letter in hand a read it slowly making sure he got every word, then slowly he started laughing more and more. 

?What is your name?? James asked trying to control his laughter. ?Uhh... Ian sir.? He said quickly knowing of the Lord of the wall's sternness. ?Ian? Ian I want you to bring me every bit of news that you of the other kings orders.? James gave the letter back to Ian. ?Return as soon as possible I have a letter that needs to be sent.? Ian nodded and then ran out the door.

James quickly returned to his quarters and took a seat at his desk. Taking out a jar of ink and feather he began writing back to that of Winterfell.

_Brandon,

When I first was reading your letter I burst out laughing. Brandon you are a king, you have never experienced hell or the real world. Always earning your way around simply by the blood that flows through you. You where given that position of power when your brother ditched the wall. Let me say that your brother couldn't handle the real world, that of the hell that the wall inflicts on people. You can't either Brandon. You are royal and deserve the same fate as the rest of the kings.

However because you are my neighbor I shall honor your request. If any of my men pass through your lands they shall harm no one and shall simply walk through the lands going southward. As long as you don't touch them, they won't touch you. 

That in mind I must say that after the south has been dealt with we will turn to you Brandon. Maybe your fate shall not be death, but let me say that it won't be pretty and it will test you. Just like how the wall tested your brother. Maybe that's what I will do.. Send you to the wall and see how you coup? 

Lastly Brandon the north has nothing to fear. You people are all the same. Thinking everything north of us is out to kill us. When in reality we have nothing to fear but the Others.

Winter is coming King, A new age of man is coming with it.

-The Lord Commander
James Kavez_

James sat and looked out his window. The men of the wall sat bored staring out into the horizon waiting. Waiting for when James would begin the plan to set the world free. James started to day dream when the door behind him opened and slammed shut. James slowly raised out of his chair. 

?Ian take this letter and mail it to Winterfell. Oh and assemble me a small group of about 30 troops outside the front of my tower.? Ian nodded and with that he sprinted back down the steps.


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## Serp (Jun 19, 2011)

Tymin was sitting back on his throne when a man entered. 
"Your grace?"

Tymin looked at the man. "Yes?"

"Sir it seems a Lannister was killed in kings Landing after trying to kill Ser Jacob Mormont." The messenger responded.

Tymin sighed. "Mormont is no knight, he worships the old gods, trees I believe. A Lannister you say was he wearing our crest?"

"No your grace, he was wearing the crest of Arryn, but his hair was spun gold."

Tymin sighed. "So he wasn't dressed as a Lannister but because he was of golden head he is to be a Lannister! How foolish are the other kings. But alas he might still be one of us, not a high one mind you, Lannisport is full of Lannisters and Lanlys and god knows what else from my ancestors breeches."

"So you will not respond to this as a slight against your house?"

Tymin laughed. "We can and I might."

"So against Kings Landing we march?"

"No, we march against the Eyrie and see why those inbred sheep fuckers might have had a Lannister on there side." Tymin responded.

"Is that all? It seems a small reason to almost provoke war?" One of Tymins advisors spoke up.

"The Vale has much more valuable things to offer if we win a battle, lets call this slight something to get the ball rolling. If the man was a Lannister or implyed to be I need to know why. And if they didn't send him, who sends an Assassin wearing their sigil, I may need their help to figure out who."

"Yes your grace."

"Ready the horses and two thousand men and send a Raven to the Eyrie, the Golden King is coming." 

"For war?"

"No for a talk, the result will determine the rest."

*IMPORTANT FOR MATTHIS ARRYN*
-----------

Kato Tully was sitting on throne, his fathers throne. His father had been more and more paranoid lately, someone had spread the rumor that he had chill and was dying. Kato was rolling his fingers over the dragon egg that was normally locked away, but today was beside the throne. It was then that Gilim burst through the door.

"Kato get your ass of my throne, I'm not dead yet!" Gilim shouted at his son.

"Father father, calm down the chill might get you yet." Kato had to hid a laugh.

"I have got no chill, I am as strong as any man, I am a king, I should kill all those who mock me."

"Yes father."

"Now get off my Throne."

"I can't do that father." Kato said.

"He can't do that." said a voice from behind Kato.

Gilim's eyes went wide, it was Jene. "Jene when did you return?"

"This morning father after hearing about your chill I returned quickly." She answered.

"Its good to see you as always but you can leave I am well." 

"So well as in a war of kings you are forgotten."

"Mind your tongue girl." He was about to call for guards untill he noticed the throne room was empty apart from those three.
"Where is everyone Kato?"

"I sent them out to gather the lords of the Riverlands."

"Why?" Gilim was confused.

"For your funeral and my coronation."

Gilim was getting angry his face turned a shade of red only matched by his hair. "I am not dying! By the grace of the seven!"

"No father, you are already dead." Jene said walking towards him.

"What this is treason!" Gilim said backing away. "Family, Duty, Honour! Those are our words."

"Were you following them when you separated us?" Kato answered. 
"You put honour before family." Jene said.
"And now we are putting our duty to each other before our family ties to you. You are a weak king." Kato said walking down to join his sister. 

"I'm sorry, but it was a slight against the gods!" Gilim shouted.

"A king needs no gods, besides the lord of Light!" Jene answered.

Gilim raised his sword and tried to swing, but Kato caught him and severed his hand.

Gilim screamed out in shock. And soon the battle was over.

"This is what we need right? The blood of a king, fire and that." Kato said looking over to the throne and what was placed next to it.

"Yes my love." Jene said as she kissed her brother and Gilim looked up at them from the ground his vision blurring from the pain. 

*IMPORTANT TO ALL, KEY TO GREYJOY, ARRYN and BARATHEON*


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## Damaris (Jun 20, 2011)

Titania Martell was going to war. 

The study she stood in seemed nothing befitting even a minor noble, much less a king and ruler. The walls were dusty, and peppered with maps of the continent, of each individual kingdom, of important towns and would-be battlegrounds. There was only one table in the room, a rickety wooden patchwork that looked cobbled together with hopes and dreams, and no chairs at all. Titania thought best on her feet, in action.

There was one window, but Titania's back was turned to it as she studied a map of the southern half of the continent, hands folded primly at her waist. Her long brown hair was caught back in a fine net of pearls and crystals, and the finery shone all the more for seeming out of place. There was no one else in the room, though Titania knew, of course, that there were guards posted at the door, and probably outside of the window as well. The illusion of privacy was fragile, but it helped her focus, helped her work. 

She lifted one slim pale hand and let it rail over Dorne on the map. Her palm covered the coastline, her fingers slipped over Sunspear. So much would be at risk, once she took these first steps, but much could be gained as well. There was no room in this world now for those who would wait, but she would remember there was an even worse fate for those who danced too close to the fire.

Forgetting that fact would be fatal.

Turning aside from the map on the wall, Titania looked at the two letters on the table. Aside from the jewels caught in her hair, they were they were the only signs in the room that someone of noble birth was planning here. Penned in her own hand, on the thick royal parchment paper, and then sealed with both the crest of House Martell and Titania's personal signet, they awaited only the summoning of a messenger, a few words spoken, and then they would be on their separate ways: one to the high seat of House Tyrell, and one to the lord of Baratheon. 

The letters themselves, despite their different destinations, were nearly identical in their subject and tone, differing only for the sake of politeness and courtesy. Her fellow rulers--for now--deserved the respect their position afforded; they were not courtiers or subjects to be appeased with identical notes of command. 

The gist of each was that House Martell, and thus by extension, the kingdom of Dorne, proposed an alliance with the King in the Reach and the Storm King, for however long it best suited their purposes.

..._We are bound not only by geographic proximity to the landing and each other, but by the nature in which we have sought to navigate the winds of change so far: Arryn and Lannister have made their moves, already proven themselves unworthy of trust. Tully is ailing. Yet we three have waited, and in waiting grown stronger. It would suit our common interest to ally ourselves and seek, by union, to bring to a knee and subdue those individual states which would blindly charge forth and seek to spread chaos in the name of their own glory_...

Titania wrenched her gaze from the letter and stepped to door. A quick word to the guard there, and he was off with the missives. Within the day, they would be at their respective destinations. As for Titania herself, she nodded to the other guard, and he fell into step behind her as she moved from this dismal place to the palace, where she would assume her other facade. A change of clothes would be the first order, she thought, plucking at the plain brown sleeve of her dress. She was receiving the Sword of the Morning, and her command over him was of the utmost importance to the future she was working for.

Titania Martell was going to war.


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## Coteaz (Jun 22, 2011)

?Your Grace, Lord Robar has sailed from Gulltown with ten thousand men, as per your command. The fleet will reach King?s Landing within a fortnight.?

Matthis nodded as he read the note. The pyromancer Allahus had sworn that the Alchemists? Guild would darken every watchtower in Blackwater Bay to their coming and that the Guild?s men would be manning the dockside walls for weeks to come. With any luck, the city would be taken completely unawares. 

?Good. The Royces are the Vale?s most ardent and capable bannermen. Lord Robar will not fail.? The King in the Vale shifted in the hard stone of the Eyrie?s throne. ?Thank you Maester Kratz, now-? 

?Brother!? Ser Marcus burst into the throne room, cloak-of-silver billowing behind him. ?We have a problem.? He held up a crumpled letter in one gauntleted hand. ?That prissy Lannister boy demands a meeting to discuss House Arryn?s role in the attempt on Jacob Mormont?s life. He says it?s a slight on his honor and rides for the Vale in force.?

?Riding through the whole of the Riverlands just to see me? I?m flattered.? Matthis stood and strode towards his brother. ?Houses Corbray, Belmore, and Redfort have raised their levies. I mean to meet this golden king with an army at my back?assuming he makes it here in one piece.? 

?It would be prudent to hear this boy king out before smashing him in the field, Your Grace.? Maester Kratz closed his book of tallies and stroked his chin in thought. ?If neither we nor the Lannisters were responsible for the attempt on the Hand, perhaps House Arryn could gain a valuable ally?? 

?Just so, Maester. I always prepare for the worst.? Matthis clapped his brother on the shoulder, muttering, ?Marcus, tell Jon Corbray to contact the mountain clans. They respect his strength at arms. Tell them that choice lands in the Riverlands will be theirs if the clans aid the Moon Throne in war. If they accept, we will supply them with good steel.? Ser Marcus nodded and left.

_I need king?s blood to wake my fire_, thought the King in the Vale, _I don?t care which king._


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## Nicodemus (Jun 22, 2011)

*Bran*

Bran rubbed his eyes tiredly as he read Kavez's letter for what must've been the dozenth time. "He's not going to give in," he said to Shahla.

The dark haired girl laughed. "Of course he's not. He is a man fighting for what he believes in, and no kind of man is more dangerous."

Bran put the letter up and began pacing. "He cannot succeed. He must know that. You must know that. The other kings will crush him. The only question is who will be the hammer, and who the anvil."

"Perhaps," Shahla said. "Or perhaps not. You still do not know Kavez, much as you might like to think you do. He is not like other Black Brothers."

"Winter is coming," Bran said. "We don't have time for this." He rubbed his eyes again. "You know I didn't want to be King, right?"

"You remind me every day," Shahla said with a small smile. 

Bran blew air upwards out of his mouth, causing his bangs to shoot up out of his eyes. "He's agreed to march around us. Save us for last. I suppose that gives us time to make our move."

"But what will that be?"

"I don't want much," Bran said. "Just the North. That's all the Starks have ever needed. I need you to find who wouldn't mind giving that to me. Let them have the rest of it. Dorne, the riverlands, Casterly Rock, the free cities for all I care. They can have it all as long as I hold the North. If you can find someone willing to agree to these terms...send them a letter explaining the situation."

Shahla nodded. "Understood, M'lord. I feel you should know that the Lannisters march upon the Vale in force. Tymin sees the attempt upon Lord Mormont's life as a slight upon his honor, and seeks answers."

"Good," Bran said. "Let the Lion and the Falcon play their games. Remind me to contact the one that looks like it's going to win."

"Of course, M'lord," Shahla said with a low curtsy. "Also, Kato Tully rules the Riverlands, in case that changes any of your plans."

"It doesn't," Bran said with a wave of his hand. "So the chill finally caught old Gilim hm? Pity. I almost feel tears coming up," he said, his voice laced with sarcasm.

"Perhaps," Shahla said. "Of course, a blade can kill as well as a chill."

"You know something?" Bran asked. "Who would want to kill Gilim?" He chuckled briefly to himself. "Scratch that. Who would want to kill Gilim the most?"

"I suspect many things," Shahla said. "But I know nothing. You had best get to lunch M'lord. Your banner men wish to speak with you, and there are several other kings to consider."


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## Serp (Jun 23, 2011)

Tymin had been on the road for a while, he had only called to arms two thousand men, that was enough men if he needed to could hold the forces while he rode long and hard back to the Rock, but not too many as if to say they ride for war. Tymin was at the end of the Lannister lands and about to cross into the land of the River King. Gilim Tully was an old fart and even after he sent away his daughter for her lewd acts with her brother (that he thought noone knew of) he still didn't command respect. His son the Bloodfish was a different matter, his eyes could bore into your soul, Kato was of slim build and favoured the slimmer swords of the free cities and beyond, but he was still a deadly warrior, a fish to water was Kato to blood he would dance, swim and drink it up all day and all night. But Gilim was a washed up, he would not start a conflict if the Lannistered marched past Riverrun, he might even just blockade and wait it out, but the weak hold over the Riverlands was one such that noone wanted to upset it by overthrowing Gilim. And even now Gilim was sicker than ever if the rumours could be trusted, although the rumours seemed forced at times, one could never be too careful.

Arryn was no fool, he would not let a man wear his surcoat in an assassination attempt, even if he could play off the take of a blonde Lannister boy. But one thing laid in his mind, who had planned it and who were they trying to play off each other, Lannister and Arryn? Arryn, Mormont and Lannister? Or was it just for chaos? Who ever Tymin figured it would not be the style of the Moon king to play such folly, and Matthis was a level headed man he knew, he would listen to concerns before fighting.

Tymin marching into the Riverlands saw something in horizon, it was what seemed like an army, flying the war Banner of Tully, but the fish on this was not the normal Tully trout, this one held a shroud of red, it was the sigil of the Blackfish.

"Kato!" Tymin said under his breath. It was then a young Lannister ran upto to him, "Your Grace, Gilim Tully has died, his son Kato now rules the Riverlands. And is bringing a force of ten thousand men to meet with you on terms of undecided entry into his lands."

It all made sense now, who lived close enough to the West and the Vale to play them of each other to cause chaos, he had access to the Lanly boys, offshots a brass stock, who wanted so hard to be Lannisters of the Rock, they would do anything for that and he could easily gain knowledge, armour and weapons from the Vale seeing as he has killed near enough of their scouts himself. Tymin had no doubt that this was Kato's plan, he now had the Golden king in his land with a weak force, while he marched with a 3rd of his force. But how far back was this planned, was his fathers Chill part of it too or just coincidence, was there even a chill to start with.

"Send message to the rock, call to arms another ten thousand men and tell them to say out of sight of Tully eyes, we don't want them to know if we sneak back up, and send Word to Arryn that Kato Tully is most likely the enemy we seek." Tymin shouted to his stewards. 

Tymin lowered his helmet and marched onwards to the direction of the Vale, flying the flag of Lannister about to meet the Tully horde.

-----------

Kato sat upon his throne, Jene had told him it would be soon but to make sure it was all still in act they had to burn Gilim on the river barg as per Tully tradition.

"So you will pack the egg onto his body." Jene said firstly.
"Yes and you will wait further down the river to collect the hatchling?" Kato responded.
Jene nodded. "Provided you light the wildfire with the arrow."
"And provided this will all work, you sure this will work? I would have hated to kill father for no reason, I would always wait for a good reason to kill that ginger oaf." Kato asked his sister.
Jene kissed him. "Yes of course, I have read the ritual over and over again, the Dragonlords of old would do this if there was no other way, blood magic is dangerous, a life for a life and fire for death and rebirth."
"But he is already dead."
"But the death was for the ritual, a King murdered and the great burning is all that matters, the how not so much."
Kato narrowed his eyes.

There was a knock at the door and Kato waved the boy in.
"My lord, just as you planned, the Lannister horde was on the horizon and we have set out to meet with them."

"Do not start war yet, I want to see what claws the Lion has first." Kato smiled deviously. "The Lion will fall, and then as will Arryn, Stark and Martell, when the world is drowned in blood only the fish will survive."


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## The Imp (Jun 23, 2011)

*King in the Reach*

The squire ran in with a letter in his hands. Will Tyrell opened it quickly as he told his squire to fill his mug with more wine. He quickly read the letter and slammed his mug down. He snarled, "Bring me Robert Redwyne, my Hand of the King. Tell him it's urgent!" 

The squire ran out quickly. He knew very well that he shouldn't get on the King's bad side when he was drunk. And these days the King in the Reach was always drinking to escape his grief. Twenty minutes later, Lord Redwyne entered the King's personal chambers. He asked Will in between breaths, "What's happened?". 

Will allowed Robert to sit down before yelling, "It's that Dornish WHORE!! She thinks she can order me around. This filthy woman has the nerve to ask for my aid, especially after what her family did to my son!".

"What does she want?" Robert asked calmly. 

Will roared, "She wants me to ally myself with her! If she wants me to mobilize my armies and prepare for war, I'll do just that. But instead of attacking North, I'll sack Sunspear and kill every single Martell I can get my hands on!".

The Hand responded, "I know you have bad blood with the Martells, but we're surrounded in chaos. Each King is vying for power. Allies have become a rare commodity. And if you go to war with Dorne, we'll both only bleed ourselves out like all of our past conflicts. We cannot defeat them without suffering heavy losses. You must see reason Will." 

"Robert you've been my friend for most of my life and I've always treated you like an equal, but in this matter I will have no opposition. Anyways, I don't mean to wage war by myself. Send a letter to the Storm King. It's been too long since he's paid his respects to his aunt and my dear wife, Joanne Baratheon, and to his cousin. Afterwards we'll talk of business. he's had his own fair share of conflict with Dorne on his borders. Tell him I have a plan that will be mutually beneficial to both of us!" Will demanded with a tone of finality. "Also send a letter back to Dorne. Tell that bitch, she can come to Highgarden and suck on my old, shriveled cock before I put her head on a stick. 

Will burst into laughter as he poured himself more wine. Robert couldn't help but chuckle. But his face soon became stern as he left to send letters that would spur on a war that would destroy Dorne or leave the Reach in ruins. 

*IMPORTANT FOR STORM KING AND DORNISH KING!*


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## Cursed panda (Jun 24, 2011)

Hours after writing the letter to Bran and asking for Ian to assemble a team of 30 men James sat in his room, feet on his desk staring at the ceiling thinking of plans and strategies for that of the many upcoming battles. Suddenly a knock on his door awoke him from his land of strategy and dreams. Ian entered and held a a piece of paper. Kavez turned and looked at him with curiosity. “What have you brought me Ian?” He asked, curiosity and authority could both be heard from his voice.

Ian gulped and then shook it off. “A list of names sir, a list of the men you asked me to assemble. They have been sitting idle under your tower for about 30 minutes now.” James stood up and held his hand out. Ian put the list in his commanders hand and then bowed and left the room. James laughed at his attempt to please him and the fear that went across his servant's face. He sat back down and scanned the list, not really caring but still with some interest. “Battahem Zank, Dan Franz...” He read aloud, and then suddenly just throw the list on the floor and looked out his window. Sure enough at the bottom sat a group of bored men waiting for that of their commander's orders. 

James walked over to the door and descended the tower. Arriving at the bottom all of the men suddenly turned their heads at the sound of footsteps on the other side of the tower door. Then the door suddenly opened and out walked their leader. 

“Now then! I shall get right to the point, do any of you have experience with stealth and infiltration? Of that of sabotage?” James looked over the men who sat in silence. Suddenly ten of them stood up. “Perfect. Now then you ten are going to be are leaders in this operation! The rest of you are going to do what these men say and listen to their every word. Now then you ten go stand on my right, the rest on my left in straight lines.” James stopped talking and waited for the men to line up. They did obediently, probably in fear. 

“Alright then. Your mission is simple. By any means possible I want you men to sneak your way into the Tully castle and destroy anything of value.” James stopped and looked at the expressions that suddenly shot upon the many faces of the men. Fear, determination, pride. “I notice about half of you are scared, oh well. Oh and bonus points if any of you manage to kill someone of value in that kingdom.” James smiled although none of them could see it under his hood. He just almost asked the impossible of these men. 

“This may seem impossible, however!” He paused and looked at their faces once more. “They are busy right now in that of a conflict with Lannister. So your job's difficulty is cut In ha-” Someone spoke up.

“And what if I don't want to?” The voice took James by surprise, it had come from behind him. “Who the hell said that?” James Voice was calm and inspired fear in all but the one it was directed at. James turned around and looked over the faces of fear, one stood out, his face was expressionless. James walked over to him and stood right in front of him. 

The boy who challenged James wasn't any older then 18. He had dark brown hair and seaweed green eyes. A large scar went down his cheek. He was short too, only measuring about 5'3 the boy wasn't the one you would think would be the bravest out of them all. “Who the hell do you think you are challenging me boy?” James grabbed the boy by the shirt and lifted him off the ground. The boy's face still stood expressionless. 

“Who the hell am I? I'm Jack, Jack Brand.” His voice actually inspired fear in the hearts of the men just as Jame's had. His voice had matched his face, emotionless. James didn't flinch, he threw the boy on the ground. Jack's face didn't change, he simply looked at James. “Jack, Jack, Jack. You must be new here. Let me tell you now. That the first rule of this god-damned wall is that you don't fuck with me. Let me tell you now that there shall only be 29 men leaving this wall. Let me tell you now that you are from this point on officially fucked.” 

At this point James got on top of Jack and pinning him to the cold ground with his legs. He grabbed Jack's face by the chin and made him look straight up. Then with his other hand he drew the lone long knife that hung from his pitch black belt and raised it into the air. Jack's expression finally changed, Jack had learned his place. “Those pretty green eyes you have? They are gone.” 

What happened next was an act of pure violence and gore. Any man that was around suddenly looked away and covered their ears. James swung the knife straight down on Jack's left eye making a large deep cut go down it. Then he proceeded to gauge the right one out. Splattering blood all over the ground and Jack, the whole time Jack screamed and tried to wiggle his way free. James got up and looked down at the now blind,KO'ed boy. “Excuse me! Can I get a maester over here?” James yelled causally.


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## Coteaz (Jun 24, 2011)

*The King in the Vale*

*The Bloody Gate*

The King had called and the Vale had answered. Twelve thousand swords, drawn from the Sisters in the north to the Redfort in the south, lay encamped behind the mighty fortress known as the Bloody Gate. Banners flapped in the wind and weapons gleamed as the men of the Vale awaited their lords? deliberation. 

?Our scouts report movement in the Riverlands. The Tullys have called their banners and prepare for war.? Ser Marcus Arryn pointed at the map of Westeros laid out on the tent?s war table. ?The Riverlords have assembled a strong host near Riverrun. They probably intend to smash the Lannister boy?s force before he can reach the Vale.? 

Matthis stroked his dragon egg in thought. The King in the Vale was resplendent in gleaming bronze plate, inscribed with ancient runes of protection that his uncle Lord Royce swore would ward off even the truest arrow. A similar suit of armor had been gifted to his brother Marcus, and the Arryn siblings made a fearsome and noble sight to the common man. 

?My son Jon sends word that the negotiations with the mountain clans have concluded,? Lord Corbray spoke up gruffly, ?and he leads them with a hundred handpicked men. Near three thousand have descended from the Mountains of the Moon and are raiding up and down the Green Fork.?

 Lord Redfort tapped the map with a mailed finger. ?Any force from Seaguard or the Twins will be harried to exhaustion should they try to move down the Kingsroad. We are in an excellent position.? 

?Quite so, my lords.? Matthis held up a letter, fresh off a raven?s leg. ?Just now I received a most curious missive from the Lannister king. Apparently Tymin believes that the Tullys are behind the attempt on Mormont?s life and the slight on both of our houses? honor.? The King in the Vale broke into a ferocious grin. ?I happen to agree with him.? 

?To war, then?? Ser Marcus grinned like his brother. ?My sword?s been thirsting for some soft Riverlord blood for a long fucking time.? 

?To war, brother,? said the King in the Vale, ?but not without a proper strategy.? Matthis motioned at a marked town. ?Lord Harroway?s Town sits at the junction of the Kingsroad, River Road, and the Trident. Any force from the north would need to cross the river after being torn apart by the mountain clans. Any from the west would march in plain view along the River Road with the Lannisters at their backs. Our spies report that the town is lightly guarded with only a wooden palisade to ward off attacks.?

Lord Belmore laughed. ?In other words, a perfect base to break the Tullys in half. Those flopping fish won?t know what hit them.?

?And, my good lord, once Robar Royce takes King?s Landing we shall have the whole might of the Crownlands at our beck and call.? The King in the Vale strode from the tent, cloth-of-silver cloak billowing in the wind. ?Rouse your men. We march to war!?

The host of the Vale swarmed through the Bloody Gate, one thought on the mind of every man ? war! Finally, war!

_To war!_

*IMPORTANT TO TULLY, LANNISTER*

...

*Blackwater Bay*

Galbart Grafton peered at King?s Landing over the gangway of his galley, _Gull?s Wing_. True to their word, the Alchemists? Guild had silenced every watchtower to the Vale fleet?s coming. Now ten thousand men waited on their ships outside the city?s harbor in the dead of night. The signal should be?

There! A green torch on the walls above the dockside gate. All was set. The gates would be open and the city completely unaware. The fleet started in silence, oars dipping quietly, towards the first strike of the war?

*IMPORTANT TO MORMONT, HAND OF THE KING*


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## Damaris (Jun 24, 2011)

The soldiers that Castion had brought with him were the best his father had to offer, chosen personally by the Sword of the Morning for this trip, but he still felt wary as he handed off the reins to the groom at the stable and looked over them. They were good, battle-trained men--he would have brought nothing less with him--but he was uncomfortably aware of their small numbers against the might of what the King of Dorne could command.  

Dawn had never felt so heavy at his side. Or perhaps it was that only now was her proper weight settling upon him.

And so he arrived in Sunspear, ready for his meeting with the Lady Martell, the King, and Castion found himself...waiting. He spent four days in the city not ignored, precisely, because he was shuttled from noble to noble, meeting the head of the guard and trying not to get roped into the eddies of the political games in the capital but he never once laid eyes upon the king. There was a missive in his rooms at the palace the first night that had to have come from her: it thanked him for his presence, honored him as a servant of Dorne, and said that she would be with him shortly. If not for the personal seal stamped over the front, Castion could have believed that the king herself didn't know of the letter's existence, much less had dreamed of penning the thing.

A small bubble of annoyance wanted to expand in him at the treatment, but Castion refused the emotion. He was a soldier, not a noble, anymore. And beside, four days was a very short amount of time, in the scheme of things. (He ignored the whisper in his ear that said a kingdom could rise or fall in four days.)

The summons to the king's side finally came at high noon on the fourth day. One of Castion's men found him training, an unfamiliar woman at his side. Castion dropped Dawn to his side, nodded at the man in greeting, and inclined his head ever so slightly to the woman. 

*"I am the chief attendant of her Highness, the King,"* the woman said, not even bothering to acknowledge him. *"And she will see you now. If you would follow me?"*

Castion blinked, hesitated in more shock than anger, and then dismissed his man with a wave. *"I would be delighted to do so," * he answered, and apparently that was enough, for the woman turned on her heel and he had no choice but to trot after her.

She took him to a dismal little building, close to the training fields, and just off the side of the palace. It looked like a smallfolk hut, except for the guards posted at every entrance, and Castion gripped the hilt of Dawn reflexively. A trap?

Without looking back at him, the woman spoke: *"The King does her best thinking in private, away from the trappings of court."*

Castion eyed her for a moment, still unsure, and then stepped through the door. Whatever waited for him inside, let him meet it without shame. 

But there was only a woman inside, her long brown hair trailing over her shoulders. It took Castion a heartbeat to recognize her, but his body had sunk to its knees before his mind processed it, as if he knew on instinct. 

She made an impatient noise in the back of her throat. *"Rise,"* she said, *"And be done with that. You will be my right arm, an extension of myself, and so we can dismiss the formalities."* For the second time in far too short a span, Castion found himself unsure. He disliked how easy the feeling was becoming to him. He rose to his feet, met her eyes.

He had met the Lady Martell of course, when he had traveled to the capital as a youth; but he had been a second son of a minor noble, and she had been a girl a few years older than him, and they had moved in different levels of the same world. Now she was a king, and he was a soldier, and the balance still felt as insurmountable. She looked almost as she did in the portrait that he had glimpsed in the throne room, but more wan, perhaps, with a smudge of dark under her eyes. Tired.

*"I am beset on all sides by fools,"* she began without preamble, and Castion jerked at the words as if he had been struck. *"By old, petty men who cling to feuds and memory as if they still mean anything in this world. By children clutching desperately at power. These are those who would call themselves royals--twisted husks who care nothing for their kingdom's sake when they could take the chance to inflict an empty insult instead. These are those who would be kings."*

Castion swallowed. *"And what would you have me do of it, my lady?"* She had said to drop the formalities but--he couldn't help it. She might have appeared tired when he came in, but how could he really have thought that? Her eyes were a fire that outshone the small lamp on the room's sole piece of furniture, a wooden table.

The king smiled. There was a letter crumpled in her right hand; Castion focused on it to escape her relentless gaze. *"I would have you speak with me awhile,"* she said. *"I have many plans for you, and there will be many years ahead where the Sword of the Morning will serve on the frontlines."*


When Castion finally left the room, he felt dazed, but imbued all the same with a sense of purpose that he had never known before. That he had perhaps been searching for all of his life. It took some time to gather his men together, and recruit those the king had given him dominion over, but it seemed to pass in a blur.

He gave his instructions quickly and without inflection. Time was of the essence. They rode now for the border, and for Highgarden.


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## Serp (Jun 25, 2011)

"Kato, the battle will be starting soon what are your plans?" Jene asked her King.
"We wait for them to get into place." Kato said coldly. 

The Lannister horde of 2000 men met with the Tully horde of 10,000. The Lannister horde opened up down the middle and messenger came to speak with Tymin. 
"Lord Tymin, my King the great Lord Kato, is requesting reasons as to why you have trespassed onto his land with a horde, a small but strong one to say the least."

Tymin looked at the messenger. "I only wish to travel to the Vale, Matthis and I have much to talk about, that I do not trust Ravens to carry." 

The messenger raised an eyebrow. "Still the prospect of the Vale and the Rock fighting through the riverlands is too much for King to risk, he has asked me to get you to remove yourself from the Riverlands or face war from us."

Tymin was getting angry, what was Kato's plan. "No I must pass!" Tymin shouted.

"I cannot allow that." 

"You with you 20men at your side now would die if you forced me." Tymin responded.
"But my horde of 10,000 men would chop you down if you tried." 
This was true, Tymin thought it over, but the messenger spoke first. "My king as also asked me to extend an invite to his Throne room to discuss this if you would not leave peacefully." 
Tymin thought this over it was bound to be a trap, but if he managed to drag it out long enough for the Lannister forces to back him up and maybe even the Vale he might have a chance.

"Ok I will meet your king, but allow my men to camp here for the night to rest and I will meet your king upon noon in the morrow." Tymin spoke no sign of his worry in his voice. 

"Very well." The messenger said and rode off back to his army.

Tymin Lannister then sent a letter to King Greyjoy of the Iron Islands, he was close and could be a great asset. 

_King Greyjoy, 
I am writing to propose a strike of action against Kato Tully, 
the boy is green and does not know how to play the game of thrones in this clash of kings,
soon their ill be a storm of swords that only will yield corpses for a feast for crows.
And on the eve of these dead kings, eggs will hatch and a dance with dragons will be inevitable.
I request your help, 
Tymin Lannister- The Golden King of the West.

_But Little did Tymin know that_ Kato was also writing a letter to Highgarden.

King Tyrell,
Aid me in crushing the Lannisters and Arryns who tresspass on my land and will give you more than a golden hand,
I will give you a golden corpse and the riches of the Rock. Upon crushing my enemies my armies and resources will be yours to use upon an invasion on Dorne. The Riverlands are key to any war, and letting the golden shits or the Arryns getting their hands on it will be worst for all of Westeros. If you agree send word and march at once.
Kato Tully- The River King.

*Martell, Arryn, Greyjoy

*_
Jacob was sitting on the Iron throne. 
"Lord Mormont!" Someone cried as they ran into the throne room.
"Yes Jasper?" Mormont asked.
"Blackwater bay, it is silent and blackened."
"What?"
"We fear and with aid of Rumours that an attack is starting on the City."
"Arg, Tell the Gold cloaks to ready themselves. Dragonstone is already lost to us we cannot lose the red keep. Blockade the castle. And send Message to Lord Baratheon, tell him I will grant him Dragonstone if he helps defend the city when needed."

"Yes my Lord!" And Jasper ran off.

*Baratheon, Arryn*


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## Coteaz (Jun 25, 2011)

*The King in the Vale*

*The Trident*

Men called, horses whinnied and armor clanked as the host of the Vale made hasty camp along the banks of the Trident. They had marched hard for two days at King Matthis? command and now the prize was in sight. Lord Harroway?s Town, modestly defended at best, sat barely an hour?s ride south of the river. 

?Wylam, get your men to work! I want this encampment staked and picketed before sunset.? Lord Redfort strode towards the King?s tent, barking orders. ?The Tullys have their eyes on the West, but that is no excuse for an undefended camp.?

Matthis Arryn, at table with his brother and bannermen, looked up at his marshal?s entry. ?Lord Redfort. Sit and eat, if you would.? The King in the Vale handed a bundle of letters to a servant. ?I am sending a dozen riders bearing these missives to the Lannister king. I offer him terms of alliance against the mad King Kato and House Tully. Naturally, the western Riverlands would pass into his realm should our partnership prove fruitful.? 

Ser Marcus nodded at a map on the adjoining table. ?The boy will have to agree once we take Lord Harroway?s Town on the morrow. Only a fool would spit on certain victory.?

?And if the Golden King is already dead?? Lord Redfort gestured with a glass of wine. ?How would we break the Tully thousands then?? 

?Then I will set other contingencies into motion.? Grinning slyly, Matthis chewed on a piece of fish. ?There is more than one way to gut a trout.? 

Later, as the Vale host lay asleep, a lone raven winged its way north.

_To His Grace Brandon Stark, King in the North and Lord of Winterfell

Even as Westeros begins to tear itself apart, the North watches and waits. I respect that patience of yours. 

I propose an alliance between our houses. The Vale has no quarrel with the North, and we Arryns have no grudge against the Starks. No man bearing my arms or the arms of any of my bannermen shall set foot in your lands without permission. 

All I ask is that you call your banners and send a host into the Riverlands to crush the mad King Kato Tully, guilty of i*c*st and conspiracy against both my house and House Lannister. Together, we shall end his reign and restore order to the region.

If you desire to claim lands as compensation, the Twins or Seaguard perhaps, I will not begrudge you in the least. If not, and you wish only to keep your ancestral North, then I salute your strength of will.

Respectfully,
Matthis Arryn, King in the Vale_

*IMPORTANT TO LANNISTER, TULLY, STARK*

?

*King?s Landing*

The men of the Vale streamed off of their ships, forming ranks as they made haste for the Mud Gate under the cover of night. The massive gates stood open, evidence of the Alchemists? Guild?s treachery against their former overlords. Lord Robar Royce and his retinue of heavy knights were the first to breach the city, hooves muffled on the dirt as they thundered into Fishmonger?s Square. 

Half of the Vale army made it through before the bells sounded.

?Shit!? Galbart Grafton drew his sword as he followed his Gulltown spearmen under the mighty gates. Bells were ringing alarm all throughout the city, and men shouted and cursed as the Goldcloaks were roused from their barracks to repel the assault. 

?Grafton!? Rohn Royce stopped his horse as more Runestone knights rode past. ?Take your men up the Hook and support the assault on the Red Keep. The Waynewoods have rams and axemen already ? keep the fucking city watch off their backs!? The young Royce wheeled around and charged after his knights towards the central square. 

As the heir to Gulltown marched his men up the curving path towards the Keep, a familiar scent caught his attention. Galbart?s mouth turned dry as he realized it ? wildfire. By the gods, the Guild was going to use _wildfire_ in the city!

Ten seconds later, every guard barracks in the city exploded into a howling green inferno. 

*IMPORTANT TO MORMONT, HAND OF THE KING*


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## Cursed panda (Jun 26, 2011)

The doctors came with a stretcher immediately and brought Jack away from the scene. By this point a pool of blood soaked the area around his head. His face was almost pure red. ?Damn children.? James turned back to his soldiers who stood in their lines. ?Now then I shall give out the final directions on how you well arrive and leave Castle Tully.? James stopped and looked back at the pool of blood on the ground. 

?You shall go in three four horse wagons. Each of you shall be dressed in farmers clothing and carry a small knife. That knife is going to be your only weapon, carry it with you at all times.? James once again stopped and turned his head to the pool of blood, it was distracting him and he wasn't quite sure why. ?Damn.? He mumbled under his breath. He turned back to his troops, none of them seemed to notice, all to afraid to take proper examination of the situation. 

?Now then you shall ride your wagons, ten of you in each. Ride these wagons all the way through King's road to that of the fish's tank. If you are stopped at any point, as your probably will be at Winterfell and Riverrun. You say that you are poor men from the far north that have come to Riverrun in search of work.? James stopped and took a breath. ?Now then you have ten days to get to Riverun, destroy as much as you can in the palace or city, after that you must leave and take you wagons to Old Anchor in The Vale, there a boat shall wait for you. You have three days to make it to Old Anchor or you will be left behind.? James nodded to the men and then walked away, everything had been said now all he needed to do was set up his equipment and prepare for the next stage of attack after his ?Ninjas? had done their part. 

?Ian!? James yelled, and Ian, who had been watching the whole event from a distance came running over quickly. ?Yes sir?? James pulled his hood down. ?Ian, how long will it take for you to fetch me three four horse wagons? In the back of each ten sets of farmers clothing and ten knives?? The request took Ian by surprise. ?Uhh sir? I suppose it well take me an hour and a half or so.? James turned around and made toward his tower uttering his words as he left. ?Get it done in an hour, bring the wagons to my men they shall take it from there. Oh and come to my tower after done I'll have some letters for you to send.? 

James made his way back to his tower and to the top floor and his room, he quickly brought out a  piece of paper and started his first letter. 

_To the Eastwatch by the Sea-

Prepare a boat in 10 days that can support 35 men. Then have 6 men take the boat down to Old Anchor. Wait there for 3 days, in those 3 days 29 or so men well approach take them aboard and take them back to the Eastwatch by the Sea. If the men do no come in 3 days you have permission to leave and return home without them.

-James Kavez_

His next letters where all the same and too have one sent to every king. 

_Dear King's of the land,

I want you too know that from this day on the wall will no longer be protecting you from that of the north. In fact I plan on letting the north consume you all and letting you all experience the hell that you call ?The Wall? We shall guard the wall for are own needs, not any of yours. I will even attempt to enlist that of the wildings of the north onto my side so that they can help me repay you. Maybe even recruit giants to smash you. This is a warning to you all, The Wall is no longer under the control of the Kingdoms. From this point on The Wall shall be regarded as it's own country and when the time comes The Wall will bring freedom to everyone. 

Winter is coming King's, and with it FREEDOM.

-James Kavez, Freedom's hand. _

James smiled as he wrote the letters, now he was to be acknowledged more. The Wall would mean much more then it had in the past, it would mean freedom. It would be written about as the start of a revolution in the years to come. James would be a hero and a god, that is if he wasn't crushed or driven to the point of insanity first. James quickly called for Ian as he thought of his new sense of freedom and then letters where sent off by Raven to every king and that of The Eastwatch. 


*IMPORTANT TO EVERYONE, MOST IMPORTANT TO TULLY*


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## Chaos (Jun 26, 2011)

The council meetings in the Greyjoy residence were always easy. The council members would come up with things to be discussed, and Jeremiah Greyjoy would determine the best course of action without even listening to the arguments of the council. Today wouldn't be different. Jeremiah Greyjoy was in a bad mood, a very bad mood indeed, and no puny sheltered piece of shit on the council would keep him from having his way this time, especially not in a time like this.

Jeremiah watched the throne room. Four man were seated on unremarkable steel chairs. They were sitting in a rough cross-formation, one man to the king's right, one to the left, and the same on the opposite side. All of them were facing the center of the room. This only strengthened the impossibilities of the council to band together against the king. Any word that was said was heard by everyone in the room. Jeremiah wouldn't have it any other way. 

Before Jeremiah's eyes, the dreams of last night were still running. He saw the grey horde attack the palace again, he saw everything happening at the same time. He saw his parents being mutilated and killed. In his dreams, he had tried to scream, even though he hadn't even been there in the dream. He had been watching through a window, and when he tried to scream, he found his mouth sown shut. Even though it was a dream, Jeremiah could feel his rage burning, especially when the scene behind the window changed to his son departing the Pyke, and then his son falling to the hands of unseen assassins. Was that the Gold hair of a Lannister? Did he see the sigil of Baratheon flying on another man's shield?

"Your grace?" The man on the left spoke. This man was Daemon Greyjoy, the last remaining Greyjoy except for Jeremiah on the Isles, and Jeremiah's cousin. Daemon was a war general, groomed for the blood and steel of the field and nothing else. An emotionless man, brutal at his bloody craft, but not much help in any other matters. No wonder Jeremiah felt like he had lost his entire family. Daemon was a machine of destruction, nothing more. 

"Yes, what is it?" Jeremiah pulled himself from his disturbing dreams, back to reality. These dreams weren't just dreams. They were truth. And only one thing would grant him the full truth and the retribution he so desired. And that thing wasn't hidden in the vague meaning of dreams. That one thing was in King's Landing, in plain sight in the cold, harsh reality. And to get to that thing, steps would have to be taken. Violent steps.

"Your grace, we wanted to discuss the letters that came by raven, and the other actions we will take in this time of instability." The man who spoke now was a Drowned Man, highest in rank of the island. He was an important figure, but for all Jeremiah's twenty years of reign, he had not bothered to learn the man's name. Religion wasn't one of Jeremiah Greyjoy's interests. _"Those who died are never truly dead."_ Ha. Sure. Let's see your family murdered and then some old idiot trying to tell you that for twenty years.

"Yes, the letters." Most kings wouldn't discuss their own letters in public with their council, but Jeremiah had always done it like this. The reason for this was simple. No one could sway his decision anyway, and anyone who tried to sway it by his own means would soon find his head caved in by a warhammer.

"The first one is a letter of Tymin Lannister, the Golden King." The third man in the room, this one sitting on Jeremiah's right, spoke up now and retrieved the letter the king had lent him for reading. "The Golden King proposes an alliance and action against Kato Tully, the newly ordained River King of house Tully". Jeremiah silenced the man with a single glare. He knew what was in the letter. Furthermore, he was the only one who had to know what was in it. As long as he did, it didn't matter anyway, because the actions would be decided by him and him alone.

"The Lannisters are a powerful house, your gr-" The Drowned Man started. Jeremiah grinned. Still afraid of death, dirty little seaweed shit, even though he preached the 'no one ever dies' every day. "The Lannisters are a house with a history of treason and deceit, perhaps more than any other house." Jeremiah said. "Their king speaks of help and alliance, but everyone knows he'll backstab us all the same. He calls Kato Tully green, while he himself can barely be called a man. Also, the kid didn't even manage to put together a letter that has any meaning. It is mostly filled with nonsensical verses. Kid should've been a poet, not a king." Throughout the speech, Jeremiah's voice had gotten louder and more imposing. Right now, every man in the room was staring at him in awe. It was a long time ago since they'd seen their king excited for anything. A new time had come. They could read it in his eyes, and he could read it in their eyes. The waiting was over.

"Send the goddamn raven back to that piece of shit in gold. I've already written my return letter." Jeremiah took a piece of paper from his cloak and handed it over to the man on the right, the hand of the king. "Read it, and read it loud, so everyone can hear my verdict on this 'King'." The hand accepted the piece of paper and rolled it over. His eyes widened when he read the scroll. "Your gr-" The man started, before being interrupted brutally again by Jeremiah. "I don't give a shit about what you're thinking. Read it."

_To the Golden King of Casterly Rock, Tymin Lannister

Your letter was comic. Some beautiful verses in there, only wondering what the hell all that shit means. If you want to request help, do so with proper respect or just don't at all. 

What would I gain by helping you? The allegiance of the Lannisters in this time of trouble? Gold, men, territory? Do you really think me stupid enough to just barge into a battle that's none of my concern because you ask me to?

If you answer, think about it really well, because you aren't putting up a good impression of yourself. The words I received are not those of a King, but those of an arrogant knight. You haven't seen the true requirements of leadership yet, nor the true value of diplomacy. Don't think so easy about me again. My house might be small, but we're perfectly capable of destroying a rash king.

Have fun with your Tully-raid. My only hope is that many men will fall, on both sides. 

Jeremiah Greyjoy, Iron King of the Pyke_

The Hand rolled up the paper again, still looking stricken. "Send it right now. You're not of much help here anyway." Jeremiah waved away the man, and the man left. Jeremiah knew he would send it. He'd have to, otherwise his head (or what remained of it) would be on a stake soon enough.

The Drowned Man looked resigned. He had never gotten used to this King's brutality. Daemon, on the other hand, looked positively excited. Jeremiah wasn't about to disappoint him. He turned to his general. "I want two hundred ships to sail out this day. Put them in groups of twenty, each one headed by a catapult and a ballista armed ship. These groups will pillage every single ship that is seen between Cape Kraken to the North and Crakenhall to the South. When they run into small fleets or large convoys, let them send a message back here, flee, and return with a greater fleet. No more ships shall sail the West of the continent. Bring in as many pillaged ships as you can. No survivors on the other side, no exceptions. Even if the goddamn Golden King himself is sailing on one of those vessels, just kill him. The seas are ours."  Daemon happily nodded.

"Your grace, you're cutting off the entire trade of the Lannisters. They won't like this at all." The Drowned Man dared to put in. Jeremiah just grinned. "That was the plan, you fool."

*Key Importance to the Golden King*


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## Serp (Jun 28, 2011)

Kato Tully sat behind his walls as the armies started to form at his back, his front and his side. 
"What now Kato?" Jene asked.
"Fire and blood." Kto responded. "Raise fathers corpse upon the highest point of the Castle. He looked towards some of his stewards."And you knights follow them, in case any of these friend fuck up." the knights armoured with the sigil of Tully took the annointed body of Gilim to the high point of the high tower tonight we are gonna make it burn."
Everyone ran off to help the bloodfish.
"Kato why aren't you more scared? We could be killed."
"I have you, and I am me, what else do we need?" Jene did not look any less worried.
"Ok ok."
"Do you have the wildfire in place?" Kato asked.
"Yes."
"Then we are fine. Go up and wait with fathers body."
-------------
Tymin sat in camp, waiting for a sign to do something.
And then a messenger arrived. "Your Grace, it seems Arryn are stirring getting ready for marching and have sent letters of alliance to you for strike against Tully."

Tymin nodded and looked over the letter. "Very well, on the action that we divide the Riverlands among us, send note that I agree to the terms." 
The messenger nodded. "And your grace, there is also a reply from Greyjoy."

Tymin looked over it and sneered. Greyjoy was being an old fool. He penned his response.

_Greyjoy,
Your are being unreasonable. With my words to you it shows a king should be a master of everything he aspires to be, so being swift on the quill is as much a sign of kingly aptitude as sending a host into battle. You see it is the West and the Riverlands that shadow your islands from the south and the Vast North covering the rest. If Kato Tully takes the West then it will not be soon before the Iron Isles follow, the Riverlands are key to any battle and you would be a fool not to want to help take part and claim lands for yourself. Let it be known whoever the winner of this battle, Tully or Lannister the winner will turn their eyes and their swords to Kraken. 

The Golden King, Tymin Lannister.

_The letter was flown off to Pyke instantly. "Now we wait." Tymin said to his generals.

*Greyjoy*
----------
The Gold cloaks turned to see their Barracks burning with the green of Wildfire, but their kept their post and started to march towards the open the gate to meet the enemy.

Mormont was viewing Kings Landing from his perch. "Wildfire! Who ever is attacking must not want much of a city, as the fire will burn through everything and anything. This is a day to remember the Targaryens who knew what power fire held.

Mormont tried to direct his gold cloaks around the city and his personal guard to protect the Red Keep, that was the major goal.


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## Serp (Jun 30, 2011)

"Call the Rat to me." The dark figure shifted in his chair. He didn't  like dealing with the Rat, thought the man a sneaky piece of shit, but  the possible gains were too big to ignore. "Everyone else, leave the  room."

The Rat entered the room. The Rat was a slender man, his face mostly  buried under a low-hanging hood. The figure in the chair snorted. No  respect for those who didn't even dare show their face.

"You called for me, your grace." The Rat's voice was more a whisper than  a real voice, yet still, it commanded respect in a strange way. This  was the voice of one who knew the games of life, had played in them for a  long time, and found ways to cheat.

"Commence the Plague. Our spies already know the plans?" The figure in  the chair said. The Rat's mouth corners curled up. "Yes, they do, your  grace. We have active spies set up in all the places of interest." The  Rat walked up to the other man and passed him a piece of paper.

_White Harbor
Gulltown
Lannisport
King's Landing
Oldtown

Barrowton
Sisterton
Fairmarket
Kayce
Stony Sept
Lord Harroway's Town
Saltpans
Maidenpool
Duskendale
Tumbleton
Ashford
Plankytown_

"Our agents are active and briefed in all these cities and towns, your  grace" The Rat said with a satisfied grin. "And all these men would  rather die than talk?" The dark figure asked. The Rat just nodded. "It's  clear that dieing at the hands of their captor would be greatly  preferable than talking and meeting one of my other men ever again."

"All of these men have been integrated in the cities and towns years  ago. In the underbellies of the cities and towns, that is. They  shouldn't have a hard time gathering some following, especially since  they are funded by your grace."

"We kept with the original plan, right? Create revolutionary  organizations in all the cities, fighting for freedom and equality?" The  dark figure said. Even he had to grin now. Stupid city-scums had no  idea what was actually happening. The Plague was his to control.

"Anarchist organizations, your grace, indeed. The underbellies of these  cities should provide more than enough people willing to listen to the  words of freedom and equality." The Rat said. "They will keep growing,  destroying their competition and weakening the entire Realm in the  progress."

"We're destroying everything from within, and they'll never know who was  responsible until it's too late." The Rat seemed very happy now. His  smile seemed permanent now, as if the wicked man could hear the screams  of the ones dying to his Plague already. 

"Let's get this going then. Tell the spies to start assembling people  and resources. Also, distribute funds according to success. The faster  the Plague in some town is growing, the more money they get for it. Tell  them to arm themselves. The Realm will tremble under the Plague."

The Rat grinned. "Yes, your grace. The Plague is unleashed on your word."


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## The Imp (Jun 30, 2011)

A raven flew through the open window and landed on an empty perch. In its claws was a letter. It bore the seal of Riverrun, the seat of House Tully. Maester Lemin glanced at the seal and set aside the rest of the letters in his hands. This was much more important. He left the room and crossed the castle making for the quarters of the King's Hand. This letter was too important for a servant to deliver. He must do it himself

Once he made it there, he quickly knocked on the door. A squire answered and told him to wait in the solar while he fetched Robert Redwyne. When the Hand entered the maester handed him the letter. Robert Redwyne ordered his squire to fetch some wine and then leave. Maester Lemin was leaving as Robert said, "Maester, stay a moment. I would like to hear your counsel on this matter." 

The squire returned with refreshments and left as he was ordered. Sipping his wine, Robert opened the letter and read it solemnly. Then he handed it to the Maester. 

"This boy seeks to ally with us to defend himself from the lions and falcons," Robert snorted. "Does he think us stupid enough to join a war in the Riverlands while we have our own brewing in the South. This young King has started a war he can't hope to win. What would you counsel me to do?"

"This is a tricky situation my lord. We can't afford a war on two fronts and I'd sooner ally myself with a snake than these Tullys and Lannisters. If rumours are true they are both kinslayers, a crime so foul that it insults the gods themselves." The maester took a long pause before he continued, "BUT, if we must choose one over the other I would counsel you to side with the Gold King. This Kato Tully has given you nothing but empty promises of an army that will likely be destroyed in the coming months. While the Gold King is anything if not rich. His gold would be crucial to our cause and his fleet at Lannisport would aid us in our naval invasion of Dorne."

The Hand of the King smiled and nodded his head before responding, "That is the same conclusion I came to. I thank you for your counsel maester. Help yourself to any food or beverage you want before returning to your duties." 

Maester Lemin left without taking anything. The Citadel had raised him to serve. He had only been doing his duty and he did not require little trifles as a token of appreciation. But it left a smile on his face nonetheless. Appreciation always warmed his heart.

As the maester left, Lord Redwyne began penning two letters. They would both require the King's signature and seal, but the King left the details up to him.

*King Kato, 

You have given us much to think about and your offer is most gracious. Soon I will raise my banners and prepare for a war the likes of which no one has seen before.

Your Dear Friend, Will Tyrell, the first of his name and the rightful King of the Reach

King Tymin Lannister,

I have received a letter from The River King. He seeks my aid in his war. he offers me an army and your rich vaults in Casterly Rock. I do not need his aid in taking your riches. Your puny defenses cannot stop 35,000 men while you are off warring in the Riverlands. You might return to find a different King sitting on your pretty throne. you have enough enemies as it is, I doubt you want another one on your southern borders. 

I propose an alliance with the Westerlands. We will stay out of your wars in exchange for your fleet at Lannisport and your financial aid in our conquest of Dorne. Once I have destroyed the Dornish I will send the Arbor fleet to help you destroy those meddlesome ironmen. They have plagued both of our coasts with impunity for far too long. We shall show them that their Iron Fleet is no match against the combined powers of the Lannisters and Tyrells.

From your future Ally, The King in the Reach, Will Tyrell*

King Tyrell would rejoice when he learned we would soon have another ally to avenge his son.

*MOST IMPORTANT for the LANNISTERS and TULLYS

INDIRECTLY IMPORTANT for the GREYJOYS and MARTELLS*


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## Coteaz (Jun 30, 2011)

*The King in the Vale*

*The Trident*

The battle was swiftly decided. 

The Riverlords, preoccupied as they were with the Lannisters in the West, had called no banners to defend Lord Harroway’s Town from the falcons descending from the Vale. The Arryn host, twelve thousand strong, was met by a mere hundred town militia behind wooden palisades. 

“Not much of a battle, brother.” Ser Marcus rode slowly under the town’s wooden gates, broken by a ram not two hours past. Vale soldiers moved swiftly to occupy and fortify the settlement, commandeering homes and repairing the damaged walls. Looting had been kept to a minimum, with only seven women raped and twelve townsmen killed after the militia broke. 

Matthis stopped his horse at the crest of the central square. The King in the Vale gazed out across the vast expanse of the central Riverlands, fertile ground that could feed a dozen armies. “This was merely our first move, Marcus. The real game has yet to begin.” The Lannister king had agreed to the terms of alliance, and now the Tullys faced a war on two fronts. Taking Lord Harroway’s Town cut off Riverrun from its eastern holdings, nearly splitting the Riverlands in two. Now was the time to strike. Matthis turned to face the Vale lords gathering behind him.

“Lord Corbray, take three thousand men and pacify Saltpans and Maidenpool. I want those lords on their knees in a fortnight.” Corbray grunted acknowledgement as the King in the Vale shifted his gaze to another. “Lord Belmore, lead two thousand south to Harrenhal. Besiege the fortress and cut off the Whents from the other Riverlords. They are a weak line – Lord Whent will capitulate in due time.” 

“And what of the remaining seven thousand, Your Grace?” Lord Redfort, marshal of the host, spoke up. “Surely we cannot take Riverrun alone.”

“No need for that, my lord. The Lannister boy will take care of Riverrun for us while we bite into the soft fruit of the Riverlands.” Ser Marcus grinned wickedly.

Matthis looked his marshal in the eye. “We will hold position here at Lord Harroway’s Town for a time. Once Lord Royce has taken King’s Landing, we will join with his host and bolster our numbers with the men of the Crownlands.” The King’s hand itched for his egg, his beautiful egg. 

“Then, we cut out Tully’s heart.”

*IMPORTANT TO TULLY*

…

*King’s Landing*

The city burned.

Wildfire, detonated under the barracks of the City Watch, spread to the surrounding buildings with impossible speed. Wooden homes burned and people screamed as if the Seven Hells swallowed them up with green and red flame. 

The gold cloaks met the men of the Vale in the streets, clashing steel upon steel. A contingent marched to the open Mud Gate, halting the inward flood of attackers with spear and sword. Upon the High Hill, Waynwood siegeworkers charged the gate of the Red Keep with a ram only to be cut down by a hail of arrows. Gulltown spearmen, captained by Galbart Grafton, formed up to safeguard the siege from gold cloaks advancing up the central rise. 

Galbart cursed and spat as he drove his sword into a watchman’s bowels, the man screaming in pain and terror as his entrails slid to the ground. All around him his Gulltown spearmen pushed against the City Watch’s advance, matching spear for spear, until their foe finally broke and ran. _They’ll be back_, thought the young heir as he spotted another regiment beginning its advance. _They’ve no place to run to._ 

Behind Galbart, towards the Red Keep and guarded by a wall of shields, stood Lord Waynwood himself. Turning, Galbart noticed the lord of Ironoaks conversing with oddly dressed men…pyromancers! The yammering Guildmen gestured towards the small wheeled catapults lining the ground behind the shieldwall, all loaded with strange casks. 

The first catapult launched its payload high above the Red Keep’s walls, crashing down on the other side with an explosion of jade fire. “Burn them all,” spat Lord Waynwood as he signaled for the others to fire, “Burn this damned castle to the ground.” 

*IMPORTANT TO MORMONT, HAND OF THE KING*


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## Nicodemus (Jul 1, 2011)

*Bran*

Bran sat alone in his study, munching thoughtfully on some bread, when Shahla danced into the room, clutching a letter and twirling excitedly. "Aren't I the best?"

"Depends," Bran said without looking up. "Your tits could use a bit of an improvement, but otherwise you're right up there with-"

Shahla smacked the back of his head. "Not like that, you disgusting pervert. I have great news for you."

"Lay it on me," Bran said, leaning back. "What is this news? It must be good - I don't think I've seen you dance since...ever."

"Hush," Shahla said, though her grin only grew wider. "Remember how you asked me to find anyone who might be interested in leaving you the North?" She beamed. "Well I found someone. Read this," she said, handing him the letter.

Bran took it with a wry smile.

_To His Grace Brandon Stark, King in the North and Lord of Winterfell

Even as Westeros begins to tear itself apart, the North watches and waits. I respect that patience of yours. 

I propose an alliance between our houses. The Vale has no quarrel with the North, and we Arryns have no grudge against the Starks. No man bearing my arms or the arms of any of my bannermen shall set foot in your lands without permission. 

All I ask is that you call your banners and send a host into the Riverlands to crush the mad King Kato Tully, guilty of i*c*st and conspiracy against both my house and House Lannister. Together, we shall end his reign and restore order to the region.

If you desire to claim lands as compensation, the Twins or Seaguard perhaps, I will not begrudge you in the least. If not, and you wish only to keep your ancestral North, then I salute your strength of will.

Respectfully,
Matthis Arryn, King in the Vale_

"The King in the Vale," Bran said, putting the letter down. "Interesting. Not my first choice, I'll admit, but I'll take what I can get."

"Will you do it?" Shahla asked. "Invade the Riverlands? They say Kato is even more mad than Matthias."

"I'm not big on honor," Bran said. "Only when it suits me, to be perfectly honest. But my brother...and my father...would never have tolerated an incestuous King at Riverrun. I can do that, for their memories."

"So this is it," Shahla said breathlessly. "We're going to war."

"Say goodbye to any soldiers you may have grown fond of," Bran said. "I'll be personally leading half of my forces to unseat Kato and his bitch of a sister."

"I won't have to say goodbye," Shahla said. "I'll be coming with you."

"No, you won't," Bran said. "You'll have to rule Winterfell in my stead. Flynn is a good boy, make sure he listens to you."

Shahla sighed. "M'lord, you should let me march with you. You need me."

"Not as much as you might think," Bran said. "Now go. Make the preparations. I have a letter to write."

_Dear Matthias Arryn, first of his name, King in the Vale and Lord of the Eyrie,

You offer a deal I can hardly pass up. I wish little of the lands below, save the Twins - though there will be other conditions. If I march full force to your aide, I must be able to trust you, and while I have no doubt your word is of the utmost value, more...material things are needed to secure an alliance. I'm sure you understand.

I propose a simple exchange of hostages. Nothing more, nothing less. You send me someone of significance, and I send you someone of equal importance. No harm shall come to whomever you choose to send while they reside at Winterfell, I can assure you of that. Perhaps after all this is done we can speak of binding our houses tighter through marriage.

Respectfully,
Bran Stark, the King in the North_

*Very important to Arryn, Tully
Slightly important to all kings.*


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## Chaos (Jul 1, 2011)

Jeremiah Greyjoy's breath came fast. He had been trained to be stone-cold, but that had been before disaster befell his family, and even that had been before the years of hate and sworn vengeance that had followed that event. Right now, Jeremiah couldn't keep it inside anymore. He had received two letters, one from the fake fighter of freedom of the wall, the fool James Kavez. The other had come from the Golden King, a man who Jeremiah held in even lower regard. Both their letters had been those of a fool, and yet, Jeremiah saw a diplomatic net tightening around him without any chance of escaping. Not if he didn't move fast enough. 

First things first. The self-proclaimed fighter of freedom was a fool, and a cocky one at that if he thought announcing his plans over the entire realm wouldn't harm those plans at all. Jeremiah hated the kid, another one so young in years that thought they were supreme. 

_James Kavez, lord of the wall, 'fighter of freedom',

You are the biggest tyrant in the realms right now. You are a fool, talking of freedom without granting it to your own men. I hope the winter destroys you together with your so-called freedom. The Isles will not fall to an idiot. 

Jeremiah Greyjoy, Iron King of the Pyke_

And now on to the Golden King. The arrogant piece of shit had returned another letter, calling doom over the Iron Isles whatever course the battle on the continent would go. Jeremiah didn't quite agree. There were more than a few things that could still change, but the foolish Gold King wouldn't see them. H? was green, as green as Kato Tully, and with an even worse demeanor to be a king. Jeremiah smiled his demon smile. The Golden King would soon wish he had never tried to threaten the Iron King.

_Tymin Lannister, The Golden King, Lord of Casterly Rock

I look forward to our battles. I will keep a stake outside the walls ready for your head, you're not worth the trouble of drowning. The Drowned God will understand why we don't send a piece of shit like you down to his halls.

Jeremiah Greyjoy, The Iron King of the Pyke_

Jeremiah stood up, bound the letter to a raven (goddamn storm beasts) and sent it away. He then walked towards his door. A firm determination had found its way back into his steps. The Golden King would burn, and sooner than the man would realize. The door smashed open, the Iron King's renewed fury proving far superior over the old wood. One of the hinges broke. The pin fell down and made a clear note on the stone floor.

"Call Daemon to me, immediately" Jeremiah's grizzled face and furious eyes hung mere inches in front of the poor guardsman's face. The man snapped something that kinda looked like a salute, then ran off to find Daemon Greyjoy. Jeremiah went back inside, composing one last letter, one to Kato Tully, soon to be former king of the Riverlands. Jeremiah planned to give this one a refuge. Kings were willing to pay a high price for their lives.

_To Kato Tully, King of the Riverlands, Lord of Riverrun

With the Lannisters and the Arryn gathering around Riverrun, I thought to send this letter. You might or might not have heard, but the Starks are planning to get in on the fun in Riverrun. In other words, your house is pretty much doomed. You are fresh to a throne, so I won't try to berate you for picking more enemies than you can take on.

I am sending this letter because you might be of use to me. This sounds harsh, but it is. At least I am one king that stands by their word and doesn't speak in riddles. Listen, Kato Tully, Riverrun will fall, and if you don't read and think very well, both you and your beloved sister will fall with it. Don't confuse me with a saint or a savior, if I help you, you will do your best to aid me in my efforts, though I can promise you that vengeance will be had on both the Lannisters and the Arryns.

Here is my advice. Flee Riverrun. Take your elite guard, your sister, and anyone else of importance with you and run for Seagard. Order the rest of your army to march to Ironman's Bay as well, but make sure they will arrive after you. At Seagard, several Greyjoy longships will be waiting for you. You will be transported to the Pyke. Your army, if they survive the battle to Seagard, will be similarly picked up and put on Blacktyde, where they will stay and train in the hospitality of House Blacktyde.

Your lands are lost, and your army might be lost. Don't lose your life. Heed my words and you will gain a powerful ally in my house. If you take up my offer, you will swear fealty to me. House Tully will become a sworn house to the Greyjoy family. This might seem hard to you, but remember it's the only way to retain your life. Join me, and vengeance will be yours soon enough.

Don't think about it too much or the Lannisters will destroy you. Ships are sailing for Seagard as we speak. Let the Seagard men know that this is expected, or the ships will depart immediately at the first arrow.

You have no choice, Kato Tully. Life or death. Humiliation or vengeance. The choice is yours. I hope to welcome you in the Pyke soon.

Jeremiah Greyjoy, The Iron King of the Pyke_

Jeremiah reread the letter a few times. This letter was of utmost importance. If it was received well, he would gain a massive amount of power. If it wasn't received well, the Lannisters would be a huge threat. A few sharp raps were given on the door. Daemon. "Come in." Jeremiah bound the latest letter to a raven and sent this one away as well. At the same moment the raven flew through the window, Daemon walked into the room, bowing low. "Excuse my lateness, your grace, I didn't expect a call on me at four in the morning."

"Excused. Daemon, in a few hours you'll sail for Lannisport with a thousand ships. Stay out of sight until you are there. Then, destroy and pillage. I want the Lannister fleet to burn. I want the Lannister city to burn. Destroy every single ship there in one fast raid, light the city on fire, salvage as many valuables as you can." Jeremiah's eyes flashed in the candlelight. "That last order is the least important. When there's choice between destruction and loot, you'll choose destruction. The Golden King will see his port burn, will see his entire fleet destroyed before he is done in the Riverlands. Am I understood?"

"Yes your grace." Daemon's face had turned into the biggest smile Jeremiah had ever seen. This guy was a psychopath, but a perfect one. A great commander, a fearsome fighter and a brutal opponent. The Lannisters would taste the true fury of the Kraken soon enough. "Also, send fifty ships to Seagard in the bay. Have them wait for the arrival of Kato Tully and his. If he comes, I will see him safe to the Pyke. If his army follows him, transport them to Blacktyde. Orderly and safe. Our house stands to make some great gains here, but we'll have to be efficient and brutal. Now, go prepare." Daemon bowed, that weird extreme smile still on his face, then turned around and marched away.

Jeremiah Greyjoy picked up his warhammer from the table. He caressed the great weapon, slowly tracing his fingers through the tangle of tentacles that made up the head of the weapon. He could feel it. Its time was coming again. The Kraken would destroy again, and no one would be able to stop him. With that final thought on his mind, Jeremiah Greyjoy went to sleep.

*Key Importance to James Kavez, Tymin Lannister and Kato Tully. Especially Kato Tully.*


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## Cursed panda (Jul 1, 2011)

*Five days after the mailing of James letters-*

*Castle Black- *

?Sir! A letter, a response. From that of the Kraken himself!? Ian came swiftly into Kavez's room that by this point was filled with maps and notes written on the walls, ceiling, floor. Everywhere. The only thing that seemed normal was the bed that sat in the corner. James himself sat in his chair at his desk that was covered with so many papers you couldn't see the desk itself. He didn't turn around when Ian came in only stuck out his hand behind him. ?Letter please.? Ian obeyed and quickly dropped the letter in James hand and then departing the room.

?Odd. Didn't expect that of the Kraken to send me a letter. I figured he would rather fight with a fist then that of words.? James quickly opened the letter without emotion. He read it slowly, every line must be read to this fullest. He would not allow anything to slip by him, however there was nothing to slip by. James finished the short letter and then ripped it up, letting the pieces of paper slowly fall to the desk. He looked out the window his desk sat in front of, thinking as always. However not that of plans or of attacks, no James thought of the first line in that letter. James thought of being called a tyrant. 

?He called me tyrant?? James broke his own silence. ?A tyrant?? James suddenly stood up and raised his voice. ?My men have freedom! They know that! They elected me! They are bound to his wall not by that of chains, or shackles! They bound to this God-damned wall by that of the pieces of shit that fill the south!? His voice lowered at the last word. He took a seat and pulled out a piece of paper, and began writing a reply.?

_Jeremiah Greyjoy,

Let me get right to the point. A war is not in my interest with you right now. However I must say that once this continent is liberated. I will find you and let you rot in the north. It won't be that of the locals that kill you, it will be that of the endless cold. Let me see your Drowned God bring you back from that of a block of ice.

From, 

Freedom._


James smiled, it made him feel better. However now he had to act. By now his men should have arrived in Riverrun. Soon Kato would have no choice to either run, or die by the hands of that of his invaders. Soon he could begin the second phase of his plan.

Imporant to Greyjoy

*Riverrun-*

The wagons carrying the 29 men arrived at dark of that of the 5th day. The ride had gone smoothly for the most part. The only trouble they ever came close to was when they entered Winterfell and sat for an hour being questioned, luckily they managed to make it through. 

The wagons stopped right outside Riverrun. Right away they could see the town was in an unusual state. People ran down streets trying quickly to make it home. Some houses sat bolted shut. Then there where people trying to leave the city to go to the north or south to evade that of the coming war. It was perfect. 

The men quickly grouped together and ran over the plans to enter the castle grounds. The plans had already been thought out on the ride over however, every detail had to be memorized and perfect. If one man messed up the plan had a chance of being destroyed and all of them killed. 

?Alright then. As appointed leader of the group let me go over this again.? An older man was the first to speak. He had dark brown hair that was starting to gray. He stood about 5'8 and looked like that of a farmer. The only out of place feature was the large winding scar that rolled down his right arm. 

?Mathis, Demetris, Farrow, Plak, and I Shall come to the castle gate saying that we need work and asking if any is available. Now normally a castle guard well go ask a superior what to do in this situation. The superior well probably not let us in considering it's a time of war. So that's whe-? He was cut off by a younger well built man to his right.

?When Jacob and I show up and say we saw that of the enemy to the south. We request a conference with that of the head of the guard.? He smiled and looked back over to their leader.

?Correct! Meanwhile the rest of you shall pose as that of the enemy south of the city. Go about thirty miles out with two of the wago-? He was cut off again by a man to his far left.

?What if they arrest or kill us?? ?Yeah! I came here to destroy the Trout, not die!? Another voice shouted out to the right. 

?No need to worry, we thought of that too.? The man to the right of the leader spoke up again. ?They probably well send scouts to back up your claim. If they do just ambush them. However if they do send a force of guards. Hop in the wagons and get the hell out of there.?

Everybody nodded in approval. The plan would begin soon.


Impotant to Tully.


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## Chaos (Jul 3, 2011)

Earlier-
Nimble Hill was a strong man, he wasn't a broad man but was fast and strong of arm.
He lived in the middle of the Riverlands at the moment, he travelled around alot he was a sell sword, he killed when the cash was right and did fuck all else.

But today he was sitting down, drinking from a pitcher of ale, he was scratching his ass and his blonde beard in turn, before burping. It was then the knights started by.

"His Grace, Kato of house Tully, the first of his name, summons you all men of able body, his bannermen and men at arms to join his army in battle against the Golden King Tymin Lannister, gather at the camp near Riverrun, the battle is about to start and the king needs you to pad his host." The Knights began to strut off on their horses.

At once people began to look around the men began to talk to their wives complaining. Alot of men who didn't want to go still had to, the knights would be looking for those who didn't heed the words of their lord. 

Nimble spat on the floor as the Knights walked past. "That king is a little green shit! Gonna ruin all the peace I had living here." The knight looked down at him. 
"Who are you to spit at me, Ser Lyn Frey!" Ser Lyn raised his sword and pointed it at Nim. 

Nim raised up and raised his sword. 
"I'll be having your horse ser." He said softly.

Lyn laughed at this and smiled.
"You seem to be asking for a night in shackles boy." Lyn responded.

"And you seem to be asking for a day of death, I could pay for the horse, as ol' Nimble hill always pays for what he takes, but I feel your a bit of a frogs bottom and need a good mugging to calm you down."

It was then Frey raised his sword to strike down Nim, jump,parry,block,stab and jump. And then Nim was sitting atop Freys horse. The other Knights roared and turned around to assist their fallen comrade but it was then that Nim smiled and make a salute before he rode the horse hard towards the border of the Riverlands and the Westerlands. He had a King to kill.


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## Serp (Jul 4, 2011)

Kato was standing in the throne room, things were going bad fast. He was losing the battle, he had sent out his knights to ready the Riverlands for war. He had not expected the Lannisters and the Arryns to not only figure out his meddling but to gain help from other lands. But from his latest letter, the Tyrells seemed to be answering his call but he wasn't so sure he could trust Highgarden. His spies told him that the North may eve n be joining the battle and he had no idea what was going on in the Iron Isles. The Crownlands were under attack and everything was turning to shit.  

"I don't know what to do, this is driving me insane!" Kato was getting stressed out, it was then the letter from Greyjoy appeared.

It was an interesting prospect, but the fact of the matter was he would have to give up his crown and he was not willing to do that. He sent a counter letter back to Greyjoy.

_King Greyjoy,
I am flattered at your offer of protection and so nicely taking my titles away but I offer a counter. Help me and from both sides we can crush the golden king and split up his lands between the both of us, that way we can both retain our crowns. I hope you consider what I am saying.
Regards,
Kato Tully.

_Jene was up on the roof, all the preparations were ready, she raised her hands and clapped and then the fields around the stronghold known as Riverrun went up in a blaze, burn the crops to save the men. The red and orange tongues of fire spread out far and wide an ocean of flames, befitting the firefish herself. 

But then Jene turned her eyes to her fathers pyre, underneath his body lay a crisp bed of dried leaves and wood and his very essence was drenched in wildfire. She set his body ablaze and green fire took up the whole roof, it was beautiful. 
The explosive force was so great that the Queen Jene Tully herself was expelled from the roof and landed on the fields before her great castle, mere metres away from the flaming fields. 

Kato himself was proud, he might not be able to win this, but the flaming battle field would protect him for a while and if not he would not let them get Riverrun. 
*Important to anyone in Riverlands

*Tymin was sitting with his Host, he watched as Riverrun was swallowed up by a bed of flames. 
"What could that trout be planning." 
It was then that the alarm raised up someone was in the camp. 
"Whats going on!?" Tymin demaned, as he secured his golden armour.

"An intruder your grace, he is every good yet he has not killed a single person yet, maybe a sorrowful or faceless man, we have no confirmation yet."

Tymin frowned at this, had Kato or even Greyjoy gone as far as to hire an assassin. Tymin grabbed brightroar and walked into the chaos. He scanned around and then he saw him, his eyes went wide. Nimble Hill raised his sword and danced around the golden king, knights arrived to help Tymin but he shouted at them to hold their places.

"YOU!" Tymin shouted, trying to strike the sellsword but falling short each time.
"Yes me." Nim made slight taps on the golden armour but nevr enough to hurt if force were behind it.

"I thought I'd never see you again Nim." Tymin said to the sellsword.

"Aye, me too but this be a war, your grace." Nimble Hill smiled back at the golden king, to everyone this was a confusing thing, the nicely shaped golden king fighting a dirty yellowed haired, patchy bearded sellsword. 

In the end Tymin placed Brightroar back in his sheath. 
"What do you want, Nim?" Tymin asked.

"This was is a wild one, your are a good king in talks of getting peace no doubt about that, but what you need now is a fighter, when peace is no longer an option, I anit too good at talking or sitting you know that."

"And let me guess you are this fighter we need?"

"I think so." Nim said as he ran his hand through his hair. 

"Well maybe, but why now?"

"Do I need a reason, that wasn't the deal. It is mine by right and you know that, your just keeping it warm for me."

Tymin frowned. "Will you give it back?"

"Maybe, when I'm done with it." Nim smiled. 

"Very well." Tymin took Brightroar and handed it to Nimble Hill, some thought that was all. "I Tymin Lannister, hearby pass over all rights to Casterly Rock and all joining lands, arms and holdings to my older brother the one true golden king and Lord of the west, Nim, also known as Tynim Lannister first of his name." 

Tynim took the sword from from Tymin and smiled. 
---------
Mormont was trying to hang on hard, the Gold cloaks were holding back the advancing army, but he had no idea how much longer and harder than that he had no idea how much longer he could hold out before the Targaryens came back, he had sent a message to Valyria months ago and again on each moon, but he feared they were being intercepted. Soon the dragons would have to return.


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## Serp (Jul 5, 2011)

_*Whiteharbor*_

"No longer will we be oppressed! No longer will the so-called 'Great  Houses' reign over us and take our freedom! No more difference between  their riches and ours, just because they were born in the right  bloodline! From today on, we, the Plague, fight!"

A group of about forty men cheered. The speaker was a man who had owned a  small tavern in Whiteharbor for years already, a face everyone on this  side of the docks knew, and a face that now incited a furious rage among  the spectators. The men were all low-class, dockworkers and cutthroats,  but all of them had rose to the call of freedom, the scream for a  better life.

"From now on, this world is ours. We are the Plague!" The tavern keeper shouted.

The crowd was wild. They cheered Plague over and over. The drone of the  enthusiastic men carried on through the corridors but was blocked  solidly by a thick door on the street end.

The tavern keeper laughed. His lord would be content. No one knew it yet, but the Plague was spreading in Whiteharbor.

_*Gulltown*_

A very similar meeting was going on in an old storage house in Gulltown.  Here, a fishing captain, one who had also been in the city for years,  was speaking to an excitable crowd of fishermen. Tough guys, one by one,  men who had sailed the seas for years. And these men, about a hundred  by number, had also risen to the call of more freedom. Tomorrow, they  would show their hand for the first time.

"The city, the docks, the inns, all will return to the common people! No  more overlords taking our money or our business! The seas will be ours,  and we won't be forced to do anything!"

The crowd was in ecstasy. The men here had always had to look up to the  Arryns and their sworn houses, had always paid the tax, but had never  seen much in return. The underbelly of the population, indeed, and the  Plague catered their every wish. Freedom, equality and welfare.

In Gulltown, the Plague grew every day.

*Lannisport*

Three men were sitting in a dark corner of a tavern. The word Plague was  never mentioned, but all three of them knew what the conversation was  about, and all three of them were prepared to devote their lives to the  cause. 

Fortune would have it that these three men were not standard lowlifes.  One of the men was a locally famous merchant, a man who had been on the  streets for quite some years already. He was known for unscrupulously  getting anything for anyone if the price was right. The other two were  minor crime lords, listening full of interest to the words of the  merchant. The world they were being sold (quite literally) was one in  which they would gain much and lose nothing. Needless to say that the  mobsters were in.

Twenty minutes later, three men left the tavern and continued on their  way, as if nothing had happened. They knew better though. The Plague was  on their mind, as were the first few steps to gaining more prominence.

Their time would come. Their world would rise. The Plague would make it so.

*King's Landing*

"Right at this moment, they're fighting a war in our very streets. Some  of us will have lost our lives when the houses are done with their  powerplay. And what does it matter who is in power? Nothing! They are  burning our friends, our families, our jobs and our lives, and why? Just  to gain a better standing in the eyes of their peers."

The Rat smiled at his crowd, by far the biggest in the country. In just a  week, the Plague in King's Landing, under his control, had gathered  almost three hundred men and women to fight for the common cause, for  what was right in the eyes of every single low-standing man in the  king's city. The invasion of the Arryns and their brutal, fiery methods  had only steeled the resolve of the local Plague members, turning them  into a paramilitary organisation immediately. The members were training  to fight, to steal and to pillage, and all under the guidance of the  Rat, and the teachings of the true Plague.

The Rat showed his bare arm to the crowd gathered before him. Several  huge scars disfigured the limb. "These are all from high lords. I  disrespected them, they punished me, I slew them. I am proud of these  scars as reminders of the noble, even royal blood on them! And I showed  them the common folk can fight! I showed them that they weren't  invulnerable to the dirty blade of a peasant. They didn't expect it, and  thus they died. This is what makes the Plague strong. This is what  makes the Plague superior. They won't expect us. Their arrogance, bred  by their own rules, is their weakness."

The Rat smiled again. "And we will get them. And we will claim this  world as ours. The Iron Throne will be flung into the sea, and no one  will be higher than anyone. The Plague will reign, with the people, as  the people!"

Every man and woman on the field was armed, and every single one of them  looked ready to put their weapons to use on some nobles. The Rat  laughed inside. How easy it was to manipulate the masses. And how  glorious the destruction and chaos would be when the Plague was  unleashed.

The Plague was coming. And it wasn't stopping for anything or anyone.

*Oldtown*

Twenty men, armed to their teeth, walked through the shadows of Oldtown.  The one most in front was a renowned bounty hunter who had retired  Realmspanning business years ago and now worked locally in Oldtown. The  other members of the caravan were guardsmen, mercenaries and gang  brawlers. They were the Oldtown Plague, and they were heading for war.

The tavern came in sight. The bounty hunter signaled to the men behind  him, who took positions in seconds. Another sign and the men broke into  the tavern from four directions. The men in front started a bar brawl  and the men in the back started robbing the place. No one uttered a  word. It was important work they were doing, gathering money. The Plague  needed to grow, and for that, they'd need more resources. 

Ten minutes later, the men were heading out. The brawl was still raging,  and no one had noticed that all the valuables had disappeared. No one  had noticed the tavern keeper yet, lying behind the counter with a slit  throat. It was a perfect hit, once again.

And now the men were returning to their base, where new recruits were  waiting for initiation. The Plague was spreading slowly, but every man  that joined was an elite. The group was perfect, and their infamy was  spreading. The Plague was spoken of on the streets, but no one precisely  knew the members. Secretive, powerful and idealistic, just the way the  bounty hunter liked it.

The Plague's Oldtown strike force would grow, and would conquer. 

_*Towns all over the realms*_

Gathering were called. Raids were planned. The Plague was spreading  slowly, but surely. The Realm had no shortage of people listening to the  call of freedom, and the Plague was slowly becoming a synonym to that  word.


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## Coteaz (Jul 5, 2011)

*The King in the Vale*

*King?s Landing*

Jacob Mormont, Hand of the Targaryen Kings, watched his city burn. The Arryns? surprise assault had been compromised by his instincts and quick action, but the unprecedented treachery of the Alchemists? Guild negated any advantage they may have had. Even now the Red Keep groaned and shuddered as the hungry wildfire tore it apart.

?My lord! _My lord!_? A young guardsman, loyal to the end, burst into view. ?The keep is lost. The city is lost! You must flee now or else be consumed by this hellfire!? 

Lord Mormont only shook his head in reply. The Hand smiled softly as he sat upon the thick wall overlooking Blackwater Bay, waves crashing a hundred feet below him. ?Go, boy. Flee if you can. I have no fear of fire.? 

Any reply was drowned out as a section of battlement above them sloughed off and crashed down with a thunderous roar. ?Fire and blood,? murmured Lord Jacob Mormont, Hand of the King, as he looked east. Across the bay, across the Narrow Sea, across the very world?always east. 

_Fire and blood._

?

As dawn broke, the once great city of King?s Landing smoldered with ruin. The wildfires unleashed by the insane pyromancers had reduced much to cinders and ash. Not even the mighty Red Keep upon its high hill had escaped the fire?s wrath. Where once sat a bastion of power now held host to molten devastation. 

The battle had been won and the Arryn host was victorious...but at a heavy price.

Robar Royce, Lord of Runestone and commander of the host, stood upon the plaza of the Great Sept. His retinue buzzed about him, hundreds of orders and reports changing hands as messengers sped throughout the city streets. 

?Milord, Lord Waynwood reports that the Red Keep is completely lost. The wildfire consumed it utterly.? The Waynwood scout swallowed nervously as Lord Royce turned to regard him.

?Was there any sign of the Hand, Jacob Mormont??

?There were hundreds of charred corpses within the ruins, milord. None could be identified.? 

Lord Royce waved the man away. He had lost four thousand men taking King?s Landing, nearly half his host, and for what? Half of the city destroyed by wildfire and not even the Hand?s corpse to put on show. Rumors would spread, of course, claiming that Mormont had somehow escaped the Red Keep before the flames swallowed it up. Dissenters would be emboldened at the thought of him returning at the head of a Targaryen host. 

_Ridiculous._

?Send out ravens to every lord in the Crownlands, Maester Carron.? Robar Royce strode towards his tent, long strides causing the maester to jog behind him. ?They shall all swear fealty to King Matthis as is due. These are Arryn lands now.? 

?

*The Trident*

Matthis Arryn, King in the Vale, felt his heart leap as he read the two letters. The Crownlands were his. The North marched for the Riverlands under banners of alliance to the Vale. 

_Perfect._

As he stroked his dragon egg, the King in the Vale considered his situation. The lords of the Crownlands had bent the knee and were now raising a host to bolster Robar Royce?s army. Any resistance in the eastern Riverlands would be crushed with this new strength. House Tully would be smashed between the might of Arryn, Stark, and Lannister?but what of the future? 

_First things first, _thought Matthis as he picked up a quill. _Secure the alliance with the North before looking south. _

_To His Grace Brandon Stark,

Your terms are most agreeable. I have no wife or children of my own to send as hostage to Winterfell, but worry not. I shall give unto your safekeeping the only daughter of my brother and heir Ser Marcus Arryn, Elyse, a girl of ten. My niece is gentle and fair, the apple of my brother and mine?s eye and a fitting match for any noble son. Whomever you send in return shall be hosted comfortably in the safety of the Eyrie. 

I will look to your coming. May our houses enjoy peace for many generations to come.

Respecfully,
Matthis Arryn, King of the Vale and Crownlands_


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## The Imp (Jul 6, 2011)

*The King in the Reach*

Will Tyrell's horse came to a halt. He heard branches breaking to his left, nearly 100 metres away. Will jumped off his horse and edged closer and closer to the source of the sound. He took out his bow and notched an arrow. He aimed at the creature drinking water from the stream. Will released and watched the arrow fly. His shot was 3 metres off to the left. 

As the deer escaped in fear, laughter could be heard everywhere. It came loudest from the King himself. "Tarly, Rowan, Ambrose, Ashford, Fossoway, I nearly had that one, haha!" 

"You're more likely to marry a Martell, than you were of killing that animal." Joseph Tarly joked. "You've gotten stale, Your Grace. I remember a time when you're martial prowess was compared to legends like Robert Baratheon and Gregor Clegane."

"I've gotten older but I can still snap you like a twig, Tarly. Once we start our massacre of the Dornish, you'll see I can still hang with the best of them." Will Tyrell boasted. He grabbed his skin of wine from the squire, but there wasn't a drop left. He had been drinking for the past 5 hours of the hunt. No wonder his aim was so poor. "My lords, it looks like you drank all of my wine. We'd best head back to the castle and get some more."

The King made a quick return to Highgarden with his bannermen. Outside of his walls were thousands of tents. 20,000 men were waiting for his command and more were on their way. Will Tyrell made his way through the camp greeting his troops. They loved him. Many were commoners who couldn't afford armour or decent weapons. Others had only heard of him from songs praising his valour. But all were prepared to lay their lives down for their rightful king. 

As Will Tyrell was making his way back inside the castle he told his squire to fetch his lords for a war council. It was about time that they discussed their strategy for the upcoming invasion. He entered his solar and saw that he was the last to arrive. Around the table he saw most of his lords and his Hand waiting for him to take a seat.

Robert Redwyne rose and addressed the council. "It's best if we start with the logistics. Currently we have 20,000 men camped outside of our walls. 8000 of them are knights. We still haven't marshalled all of our forces though. My son is bringing our fleet up the Whispering Sound to Oldtown. He has 200 warships with him and a total of 5,000 men. He's left 50 ships at the Arbor and we have 50 more at the Shield Islands to defend our shores while we are gone. Lord Hightower has raised his banners and has another 5,000 ready for battle. Rald Florent has no love for us but he waits for us to make for Oldtown before joining up his 5,000 men with us. In total we have 35,000 men and 12,000 of them are knights. We outnumber Dorne by 10,000 men but their greatest defense is that blasted sun of theirs. We’ll burn in our armour before we make it to Sunspear."

“Hmm.. and do we have any word from the Storm King? Will he march with us to war?” Arthur Rowan questioned. 

There was anger written all over King Will’s face. “No! That insolent fool still hasn’t answered my summons. There is war all across Westeros, but my stupid nephew chooses to sit in the corner and twiddle his thumbs. I say we smash the Baratheon hosts once we’re done with the Martells. I’ll show that boy not to joke with me.”

“Your Grace, I’d caution you away from that line of thought. Having a Baratheon host at our side would make this upcoming war much easier. But I would sooner they remained neutral than turn them into our enemies,” advised Robert Redwyne. “We should split our hosts into two. My son’s fleets can transport 20,000 men. Your Grace should take the fleet and sail to Sunspear. Attack them at their heart while they are unawares or place a siege if they decide to hide behind their walls. Our second host will march down the Prince’s Pass as a feint. We shall draw their armies to us while you sack their capital. If they do not take the bait and choose to lift the siege on Sunspear, our second host will enter Dorne uncontested. We’ll pillage their lands and break their castles. These Dornish Lords may have sworn fealty to the Martells but when their families and homes are under threat they will run to defend their own lands first. Then it will only be a matter of time before Dorne falls.” 

Will’s angry face turned into a sly grin. He started clapping while he spoke, “This is why I made you my Hand, Robert! It’s a fine plan. I shall lead the fleet myself and aim for Sunspear, but which one of my Lords should I give my second army.” All of the lords began putting their names forward. They all wanted the honour of leading half of the army and proving their valour. “Robert, this is your plan. You should lead the second host down the Prince’s Pass. It’s only fitting of your station.”

“My King, I am a decent swordsman and a better captain but I must decline. There are alliances to be forged and plans to be made. Besides we cannot leave the Reach defenceless. No, I will stay in Highgarden and join the Baratheons and Lannisters to our cause. You must leave 5,000 men for the defences and take 10,000 down the Prince’s Pass. The other 20,000 will sail with you. I would recommend Joseph Tarly to lead your second host,” the Hand of the King reasoned.

“I would have liked to have you at my side, but very well. Tarly you will take 10,000 of the men stationed outside. I’ll leave you 5,000 men Robert. I’ll take the last 5,000 and join up with the Florents, Hightowers, and the Redwyne fleet at Oldtown. Tarly, we both leave in a fortnight. Ready your men, gather your supplies and lets prepare for victory. This meeting is over.” The King in the Reach declared. 

*IMPORTANT for ALL KINGS*


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## Serp (Jul 22, 2011)

Across the Narrow sea.
-------------------
Serion was thin of medium build and was bored. He and Ghisgar were walking throughout the lands that surrounded the great Pyramid. Serion was born on Essos and had known nothing else, apparently his family originated in Essos, moved to Westeros and then the second son of one of the kings had come back to rebuild the empire they left here. 

Serion's grandfather was the younger brother of a king and had instead of messing around at court had decided to leave and rebuild their old family home and now they were one of the great Masters of the Slavers bay and Kings of their own kingdom. The Harpy's respected them and they the harpy's it was a great time. Ghisgar was Serions best friend, Ghisgar was still only a child though, he had only seen about 7 namedays but was big for his size. Today Ghisgar was acting strange, he kept looking West as if something interesting was happening over in that direction. 

"Serion what are you doing?" a voice from behind him said. Serion turned his head, it was his younger sister Aegis. At 13 Aegis was one year younger than Serion and she looked up to him. Next to Aegis was Quilta, as always. Quilta was Ghisgars sister always at Aegis side, his sisters protector. But as the oldest son, Serion felt like he had to protect his sisters himself. 
"Nothing Aegis, I'm just thinking."

"What you thinking about?" his sister said as she came to sit beside him.

"About Westeros, if we will ever get to see it. Father was only a boy when he left, but he still remembers the Cold of the North and the spice of Dorne." 

"Maybe, you never know. I like it here, its nice." Aegis said, her blonde hair was cropped short and she had a boyish charm about her, her skin a nice warm copper bronze. 

"I know, but still I want to go." 

"Why not, you are a man grown, almost." Aegis answered.

"I don't know the way, and for a prince to travel that far, it could be dangerous." 

"We have cousins over there no? They could help." 

"Maybe."

"Black Blood and Black Fire." Aegis said smiling.

"Yea, Black Blood and Black Fire." Serion answered. 

Aegis walked back to Quilta. "Come Quilta, lets go home." And the two of them left, Serion and Ghisgar to their own thoughts. 

It was then after Aegis had left that Ghisgar went wild. He started to thrash about. "Ghisgar! behave!" Serion was shouting but Ghisgar paid no mind. Something was happening, even if Serion couldn't see it, it was happening. 

Ghisgar started to run west, trying to gain speed. "NO!" Ghisgar wasn't listening, he had somewhere to be and wasn't going to stop. Normally Ghisagr and Serion had similar minds, so maybe the same thing was on both their minds. Serion jumped on Ghisgar wrapped his arms around his neck. That was all he needed. 

Ghisgar could not be stopped, he spread his wings and went flying off to the west. Serion looking down off the back of his Dragon. The great pyramid of Valyria slowly growing smaller. 
"Black blood and black fire." Those were the words Serion Vi Targaryen said as he was flown away from one home, flying towards another. 
-----------

Kato walked up to the roof to find his wife, but Jene was nowhere to be seen. He looked around the burning pyre of his father heavy aflame. But he heard a shout, he walked to the edge of the castle roof and saw Jene she was among the flames. They could not harm her. 

"Jene!" Kato called to his wife, his sister, the only person he ever loved. As he called out to her an arrow went straight through her neck. The flames covered her body then.

"JENE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" KATO screamed out. As he screamed another scream filled the sky, not the scream of his sister, but rather from the pyre of his father, Kato ran to the pyre and smashed it apart with his sword, the scream was as if it was calling to lost family far away, mirroring the scream that Kato himself had released. In the centre was a small bundle of scales, it raised its head to him. Its scales mirrored the Tully colours, red scales with scattering of blue, its eyes were a deep blue and its horns and streaks of his wings silver. Kato met its eyes, a beast of fire in the colours of the fish, a true fire fish. On this Day Kato knew what exactly to call his dragon. Family duty, honour, his family was dead what use was a crown then, he would take up Greyjoys offer and come back to take full vengence on Lannister and Arryn and all else. 

Kato picked up the new born dragon, the heart from its body could be felt through his plate and mail. And then he made his way to his secrey escape route at the base of riverrun that let in out into the River. Through the field of fire, the bloodfish road the river to freedom, leaving Riverrun to the Lions.


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## Terra Branford (Jul 25, 2011)

All of Westeros was in a war amongst themselves fighting to become king of the Seven Kingdoms and Dex Ilwyn was in charge or protecting House Baratheon's family and serving Caleb Baratheon, the Storm King, over the course of the war.

Dex, a young man born of dark brown hair and light blue eyes, stood tall beside the throne, three messages in his hand and a serious expression on his rugged face. He knew his Grace had wished to remain neutral from the fight until he was forced to make a decision, or when he possibly saw an opening, but the messages from House Tyrell and Jacob Mormont had altered the situation drastically. 

When the doors swung over and Caleb Baratheon -- surrounded by four knights -- appeared, Dex could see that his sword had been drawn and stained with blood. "Damn fools," he shouted, stomping pass his guards toward the throne. "The whole lot of them!" Dex was sent word that Caleb was attacked in town by some common men of Dorne. The Storm King sheathed his sword and sat with a big 'umpf' and leaned back, waving to Dex beside him to report just as the four guards left.

With reluctance, Dex unrolled the first message from House Tyrell and read the letter out loud. After he finished, Caleb laughed. "A plan that will be beneficial to use both, eh?" he laughed once more. "He should have mentioned this plan in the letter. Does he expect me to pit the others against my House to protect him from Titania Martell?"

"My Grace I think you should reconsider his plea. Titania Martell is a cunning, ruthless woman. It might be good to go with Will Tyrell and eliminate the threat before it gets worse."

Caleb scoffed, a grin on his face. "Titania may be ruthless, but she does what is right for her kingdom not for herself. I would like to be on her better side until I am forced to fight back. I would be a fool to set her wraith upon my House." he shook his head. "Send a message to Will Tyrell. Tell him if he wants my help he best make it convincing. I have much here that needs protecting so I cannot afford having Martell's men ripping at my throat."

Dex bowed his head in acknowledgment of his king and asked about Jacob Mormont. A darkness grew over Dex's face at the mention of the Lions, which Caleb didn't miss. "Read it aloud, Dex, and do it quick." when the letter had been finished, tension grew. Ilwyn could tell by his Grace's face that the letter from Mormont had altered the situation far more than he had anticipated. Jacob Mormont, Hand of the King, had written offering up Dragonstone.

"Dragonstone?" he asked, rubbing his chin.

"Yes my king, but House Tyrell and House Lannister are bound by blood. Any move could send the other off, and Mormont's letter would surely do so. The Lannisters lie, they will not hold true to their word your grace, see to the past for proof! And the Tyrells, though I trust them better than I do the Lannisters, it would be best to keep out of *all* of it."

"I know how much you distrust the Lannisters Dex, but I have made my decision. I do not trust House Tyrell, they are cold blooded. If I had offered my hand in aid, they would have stuck a dagger in my back the moment after." he stood and gestured to Dex when he opened his mouth to protest. "Send the fastest bird you have to Mormont, grant him his men. Let us pray its not too late."

"Is this all of what you demand, your grace?"

Caleb's eyes darkened with deep thought until he shook his head. "No, send a bird to Brandon Stark." confused, Dex asked for what to write. "I want my girls and my Lady out of the South, I would not bare it if something were to happen to them. Plead with the King of the North for my girls sake. With how I feel about the Tyrells and the Lannisters, it would be best for them."

"My king, it would be foolish to send your girls over to Lord Stark, at least not with something in return to ensure their safety."

"I trust the Starks, they are honorable, kind and loyal, and our families have been close friends for a long time. I can't win this war or even live through it without allies, Dex."

"If this is your demand your grace, I shall see to it. What of your sons?" though he knew the answer, Dex was stunned.

"There must always be a member of my blood in Storm's End, at all costs. One is a man and another nearly a grown man, they cannot stay kids forever."

==============​
Important to Mormont, Lannister, Tyrell, Martell and Stark!


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## Serp (Jul 29, 2011)

*A week Later*

Serion had been flying for a week now, Ghisgar's enthusiasm had died down but he was still going West and after a while Serion had stopped fighting against it. But he was hungry and tired, Ghisgar flew none stop only briefly to eat, make waste and then he was off again. 

Today was different even thought they flew high in the sky, Serion could tell that they were close. They were above Pentos now, if his bearings were right. Serion closed his eyes once more to get some rest upon Ghisgars back, he was strapped in so no threat of falling. 
---

Serion awoke to water being thrown in his face. 
"Arg!" He spurted out, the water that had made its way into his mouth. 
"He's awake boys." Said someone in the common tongue of Westeros. 
"Where am I?" Serion responded also in the common tongue. 

"He don't know were he is Tom." Said the man to the person sitting in the darkness. 
"Your at Blackwater lad." The man said, there was scent of burning in the air.
"GHISGAR!"Serion shouted, thinking the worse.
"Ghisgar? What that?" The man answered.

Serion thought this through. "Its just a word I say, why does it smell like burning?" Serion asked.

"Ah that would be Arryn's doing, he attacked Kings landing with wildfire and burnt most of it too the ground. The air is still crispy. I'm Greg, by the by." The man named Greg had a burn up his whole left arm and what seemed like a golden cloak used to bandage the worst of it.

"That's me boss, Tombarn Cojom. He got burnt up real good and don't like to show his face. But he rescued me and alot of the other small folk, like we rescued you." 

Tom got up and walked over to Serion and looked him in the eye, before retreating. In that moment Serion could see the cold blue eyes of Cojom staring into him, and throught what part of his face the greathelm showed it was red scarred and burnt. 

"So who be you then?" Greg asked. 

"I'm Serion." He responded. 

"Well spoken, so you got family or even know if they are alive then boy?" 

"No, well I had family that lived in the Red Keep once."

"Aye, the Keeps been ravished lad, burnt and everyone cept a few put to the sword."

"Even the king?" 

"Hahahaha, funny lad. Which king would that be, this place has got nine fucking useless ones. The last true king died in the keep aye, years ago with no heirs. The last Dragon indeed."

Serion piped up. "Last dragon." 

"Aye, you must not have been doing your learning boy, or the raid knocked the sense from you. The Targaryens, the dragons. Fire and blood and all that jazz."

"Oh." 

"Oh indeed, well seeing as you anit got no family, welcome to the Ursa." Greg smiled a toothless smile and placed his hand on Serions shoulder.

"What are you guys gonna do then?" Serion asked.

Greg smiled. "First were gonna take Dragonstone and then were gonna come back for the red keep."

Serion looked up and wondered where Ghisgar had gotten too. Somewhere deep in the bottom of the keep, the fumes and smokes still too thick for mortal men to enter, lay a great beast, waiting for his master to come and get him. 

*All Kings*
-----------

Tymin was getting annoyed now. He was no longer the Golden King, but hand of the golden king was not nearly as fun a job as being king had been.

His brother Nim had cleaned up his appearance and claimed his throne, that wasn't the deal. The deal they made before all this was Nim could disappear and Tymin could declare as king, but no Nim had his fun and got the crown too. 

"The Tully's are crushed. We need to divide the riverlands between us and the Arryn's. I say we take Riverrun regardless, a keep that close to the border of the westerlands would be dangerous if they rise against us." Nim said to his brother.

"But you see if we take that, they will take the twins, one of the most powerful places in the Riverlands. But if we grant them Riverrun it will seem like good faith and if Greyjoy decide to attack, I know Greyjoy loves noone and we will have Riverrun as an aid with Arryn bannermen plus our own." Tymin responded.

"Ahh you are good at this, make a good king one day brother. I'll tell Matthis that Riverrun is his." Nim said smiling at his brother. Tymin seething at his brothers japes.

_Matthis Arryn,
Congrats and thanks for help and aid in the siege of Riverrun.
House Lannister and the West are happy to have you as an ally.
Take your prize of Castle Riverrun. And allow us to be neighbours as well as allies.

The trueborn king of the west,
Tynim Lannister.

_"Raven it!" Tynim shouted as he pressed the seal into the wax.

*Arryn*
-----------

Kato Tully was almost at Pyke. His hair had been cut short and darkened into a purple colour. A tyroshi sealord they styled him. On his back a large metal case, inside Jene.

He was finally going to meet Jeremiah Greyjoy, the man who offered him an out. Kato didn't care for crowns anymore, only blood. He was the bloodfish after all. And in his surprise when the river of blood trails away only the fish and the Kraken can breath under it all. 

The door to the great hall was pushed open and Tully walked through

*Greyjoy*


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## The Imp (Jul 29, 2011)

*Robert Redwyne*

Robert sat on the throne with his advisers one both sides. In front of him was a  a fat middle aged man who owned a tavern outside of Highgarden. He was complaining about some bar fights from the night before. His tavern was in shambles from the ruckus and while he was trying to get everything under control he had been robbed. Now he was in front of the Hand asking for the King to solve his problems. 

"Very well. I will fine each man who took part in the fight 30 silver stags. That should cover all of the damages to your fine establishment. As for the robbery, unless you have any idea who may be responsible I can do little to help you. Do you have any idea who it was?" Robert asked.

"No...," the man growled. He turned around and walked out of the throne room. Before he exited he spat on the floor in anger before mumbling, "A few silvers aren't going to bring back my dozen golden dragons."

Lord Redwyne rubbed his forehead before telling the maester, "That's the 10th man complaining of brawls and robbery today. And we haven't been able to catch any of these robbers. I'm going to have to do something about this soon."

"My lord, we've been hearing these complaints for weeks now. And not just in Highgarden but all over the Reach. In Oldtown, there have even been some minor riots. We need to take care of this problem before it becomes unmanageable. We only have 5,000 able men to keep them down, now that His Grace has left Oldtown with the Fleet and Tarly is at the opening of the Prince's Pass with his host." Maester Lemin advised. 

"I know. I know..," Robert said glumly. "Okay, it's about time we put some of these men to work. Send 100 men and 30 from my own household guard to watch over the shops outside Highgarden. Have them patrol in pairs and be extra wary. We don't want anymore robberies and brawls breaking out. As for Oldtown, send 500 men to them. Their City Watch numbers only 1500. If a major riot breaks out, they'll need every able bodied man that they have. Also has there been any word from the Lannisters?"

Maester Lemin frowned. "No. They've remained surprisingly silent for now. But there has been word from Storm's End." Lemin pulled out a letter from his robes, sealed with the Baratheon stag. 

"It's about time. Lemin take care of those tasks first and then meet me in my solar. I'll need to send a reply back to him." Robert stated firmly. Lemin left the throne room as the Hand opened and read the letter. After reading it, he told his squire to bring him parchment and something to write with.

_*Caleb Baratheon, The Storm King,

His Grace would have liked to treat with you in person, but he's already left to start his war. In his place, I will send you the Reach's proposal. 

Dorne is an isolated Kingdom with little friends and little people. Yet they have plagued both of our borders for generations. The Dornish Marches have been hotly contested by all 3 of us, yet they are currently in possession of Dorne. Become our allies and we will give you land and wealth. We shall evenly split Dorne giving you first pick of land. The Reach will take Dorne's wine trade and it's copper industry. We shall further determine the spoils of war once Dorne has been captured. 

His Grace, Will Tyrell, will betroth his heir to your eldest daughter making her the Queen of the Reach one day and cement the great Southern Alliance. 

However, we have left our last token of friendship for last. It is our greatest offer and one you shall greatly desire: blood. But not just any blood, a King's Blood. The entire realm knows you possess one of the three dragon eggs. Ally yourself with the Reach. Send your fleet South to land on the Broken Arm. March on Sunspear. The combined forced of Baratheon and Tyrell will quickly defeat the Dornish Queen. And then you will have your dragon.

Robert Redwyne, Hand of the King*_

IMPORTANT FOR MARTELL, BARATHEON and THE PLAGUE


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## Nicodemus (Jul 29, 2011)

*The King In the North​*
Bran sat camped outside the Riverlands, close enough to see what was happening but far enough away so it was clear he wasn't intending to make a move.

"Looks like our work's been done for us," he mused to the the man seated next to him. "Pity. I had almost been looking forward to a good battle, strange as that seems."

"Never fear, M'lord, I'm sure there will be another battle soon enough," the man next to him said. Wyatt Snow was an old and grizzled man, a veteran of countless battles, and it showed. He stroked the white stubble that had sprung up on his cheeks and took a sip of water. (Wyatt never drank if he could help it, as he had no stomach for alcohol of any kind) "The Lions control the Riverlands now, aye, but they can't hope to control all of it. The other kings will swoop in like vultures, you mark my words, and there'll be fighting yet."

"True enough, I suppose," Bran said, nodding. "Have we dispatched anyone to the Twins?"

"A small envoy led by Donovan Howe. I know him personally M'lord, he's a good man and a perfect gentleman. If he can't win they Freys to our cause nobody can," Wyatt said. "And if the Freys turn out to be more stubborn than we anticipated we'll simply storm the castle. I would prefer not to, but...this is war after all."

Bran grinned. "Excellent. Hopefully the Twins will be ours with no Northern blood spilled, and we can move onto other things. I plan to continue to aide Arryn as best I can - the Vale is prosperous and it would be good to build a solid relationship with them."

Wyatt nodded. "Of course M'lord. I wouldn't have expected us to march home so soon anyway. And the warmth will do the men some good."

"I'm glad you approve," Bran said. "Now, about the reforging I tasked you with..."

"Of course, M'lord," Wyatt said, standing an motioning for Bran to follow him. "Right this way."

Wyatt led Bran through the camp and into a small metalwork. A short, stout man came up to them and bowed, beckoning them towards the forge. "If I do say so meeself, Meelord, It's me finest work. It's not every smith that gets himself a chance to work with Valyrian Steel, and I'm honored you'd trust me with such a valued Stark heirloom." He pulled back a tarp to reveal two longswords, slightly thinner than most but with blades that were obviously Valyrian Steel. One of the handles was pure white, with a sapphire embedded in the pommel, which was carved to look like a simple snowflake. Bran picked it up and swung it back and forth, testing the weight.

"Blizzard," he said with a smile. "This one's mine." He reached for the other sword, whose handle was a deep grey. It had a slightly smaller diamond acting as an eye for the wolf's head shaped pommel. "Howl," he said. "I'll leave this one with my Hand for safe keeping," he said, presenting it to Wyatt. The older man took it and buckled the sheath to his belt. 

"Now, I still don't agree with this," Wyatt began.

Bran waved him off. "I know, I know, Ice had a strong history behind it. But it was large and unwieldy - a headsman's sword, not a soldier's. I, unfortunately, must be a soldier. And besides, Blizzard will cut through necks just as well as Ice ever did." He clapped Wyatt on the shoulder and grinned. "You worry too much. Just keep Howl safe my little brother. I'm going to go feed Winter."

*Slightly Important to Arryn/Lannister*

*The Heir to Winterfell*​
The Eyrie, Kale decided, was one of the most incredible things he had ever seen. An entire castle, built into a mountain, it was the next best thing to impregnable - unless your opponent had a Dragon, he suppose. But ballistas could handle Dragons, if you were lucky enough, and no mere army would ever take the Eyrie.

His father had once said that no castle was impregnable, but Kale wondered if his father had ever visited the Arryns.

"Welcome to the home of the King in the Vale, Prince Kale," Daniel said. Daniel was a good soldier, young and tall and talented, and had been more than happy to escort Kale to the home of the Arryn's where rumor had it a certain Highborn lady was waiting for him. Kale was sure it was just rumors, but Daniel did seem notably happier now that they had reached the Vale.

"The rumors didn't do it justice," Kale said. "It's incredible. _I_ want a mountain castle."

Daniel laughed. "If your brother has any sense, he'll be marrying Flynn or Dani into the Arryn line, so you might soon have this, in a sense." He grinned. "Come on. The hike up is long an tiring, and I want to get back to the war already."

*Mildly Important to Arryn*

*The Mistress of Whispers​*
Shahla giggled with delight as she read the letter from Caleb Baratheon.

"What's so funny?" Flynn asked. Shahla looked up from her desk to see the boy lounging by the window, a large book of Dragons in his hand. The boy was reading up on the enemy it seemed. To be honest Shahla was actually enjoying herself here at Winterfell - Flynn was at least as good a conversationalist as his older brother, and even the tedious parts of ruling seemed to have a certain appeal.

And every once and a while, there was something like this.

"Caleb Baratheon has deemed it appropriate to ask us to take in his wife and daughters," Shahla said with another giggle. "Hostages, all of them, and we didn't even have to ask! She dipped a quill into some ink and began writing a response on a fresh sheet of parchment. "I suppose Bran will want to marry one of you lot to the Baratheons as well...I swear, soon enough there'll be Stark blood on every throne in Westeros."

"Well that's good, isn't it?" Flynn asked, burying his nose back into his book. "Then maybe there won't be as much fighting."

Shahla smiled. "It's excellent Flynn. I'm writing them back that the girls are welcome to stay here - mind putting your signature on the bottom of it?"

*Important for Baratheon*


----------



## Serp (Jul 29, 2011)

Tynim sat upon his throne back in Casterly Rock and yawned. His steward brought him more letters one that Min had not yet responded too. The first was from Will Tyrell. 

Tynim laughed at the letter it was ironic to say the least, he got his quill out and started to pen a response.

_King Tyrell,
You threat was ill japed, my brother Tymin went off the war and returned with another king upon his throne indeed. I have no doubt if you were to attack after my host was tired of warring and battle, that the battle would be long but it would be yours. Even the mighty lion can get tangled in weeds. But Alas together with the Arryn's we have conquered the Riverlands and Riverrun is ours, once garrisoned with Arryn bannermen, the Riverwest border will be a tough one to beat. But alas my trouble seems to be on my other border, a border of water and salt rather than roads and grass. Pyke it is. I will grant you my fleet yes, to trouble Dorne is not wise to but to ignore a Kraken at your door is worse. I will grant you the Lion fleet, headed by my own flagship Pride, as well as gold to aid your conquest. But emptying my fleet while you battle may leave me open and my men weak from fighting we may be overcome by the ironmen swiftly. In exchange for my fleet, I request you send me 2 thousand able bodied men, archers if serve to help protect Lannisport and a further one thousand infantry for use in securing the Riverlands, for that the fleet and as much gold, plate and mail as I can give will be yours.
And on another note, in order to keep the peace between our lands, I offer up my younger brother Prince Tymin Lannister to wed any Tyrell maid worth his station. If I should die without an heir he will inherit the Rock and the west. I look forward to your response.

The trueborn, rightful king of the west, the golden lord,
Tynim Lannister."_

Tynim was happy with that and sealed it with his seal and sent it off, he was to remain in this seat as the wars were heating up he would need insurance. He would take the Freys now and hopefully the Arryns took Riverrun and he had them as allies. He began to write again.

_Lord Fre_y,
_The twins are mine, I have conquered your king and your lands were my bounty. But I daren't take your ancestral home from you so easy. Your family will remain my wardens of the Twins and collect 60% of all incomes of the Twins from here forth if you bend the knee, of be put to the sword from bannermen all from Westeros with allies to Lannister. If you agree I will sweeten the deal for you moreso. I am in need of a wife. Offer me a maid of your blood, and you shall have your own on blood ruling the twins again if she should birth a son. Offer me a Frey bride and a golden crown will be shared.

The Golden King, Lord of Casterly Rock, Lord of the  Twins,
Tynim Lannister.


_


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## Coteaz (Jul 30, 2011)

*The King in the Vale*

*The Trident*

Darkness. Blindfolded, tied, and roughly dragged through grass and dirt and stone. Hushed voices. The girl could barely make them out...

_??fortunate indeed?find one so perfect?eyes and pale white skin?will be pleased??_

Cold stone pressed against her back. The blindfold was removed. Light! Robed men, all around her, chanting in a queer tongue. Braziers burning white, then blue. A great scaly egg between her legs, pressing against her womanhood. Then, a voice, clearer than the rest and brimming with soft malice.

?Do you see, Magnificence? All is as Xaxus Xar Din promised.? 

?I see a lowborn girl, comely enough, but a peasant all the same.? A second voice, clear and smooth and haughty. ?I may as well be scraping my brow before an altar like my sot of a brother.? 

A soft chuckle. ?Gods are like monuments, Magnificence. Wondrous to behold, uplifting to the masses, inspirational to heroes?but what can a _statue_ truly do? Do you see??

?Still, this peasant-?

?Your eyes are mud!? The two drew nearer, into the unnatural light of the cairn. One, tall and slender. The other, a shadow in black. ?You see nothing. _Look at her_.? The shadow bent, touching a freezing hand to her face. ?Skin white as the moon. Eyes blue as the sky. This is the truth of your existence. *Do you see?*?

Silence.

?Yes.? 

The chanting increased. The shadow melted back into the darkness as the tall man stepped forward. White and blue flames roared higher all around them, yet the girl felt no heat. Between her legs, the egg blazed hot then cooled to a throbbing chill. A greedy smile broke across the man?s face as he studied her.

?Eyes to see. Heart to _know_.? The shadow hissed from the darkness as the tall man raised an ornate knife. A blue tongue licked blue lips in anticipation. The girl?s eyes widened in shock as she recognized him ? this was the ki-!

The knife fell.


*Seven Days Later*

The Trident swarmed with men. Vast encampments rose from her shores and encircled the once quaint Lord Harroway?s Town as the full might of the Arryn hosts gathered to pay homage to their king. 

Within a great striped pavilion of white and blue, the high lords of the newly expanded kingdom sat at table. Stretching from the Vale west to Riverrun and south beyond King?s Landing, this Kingdom of the East now commanded the greatest power north of the Reach. Proud nobles of the Vale sat side-by-side with those of the Crownlands and Riverlands. Rosby, Rykker, Mallister and the rest of the newly-knelt lords looked to their new king and marveled. 

Matthis Arryn, King in the Vale, sat before them with skin white as the moon and eyes blue as the sky. Stray thoughts flickered through the minds of the Vale lords ? was not King Matthis brown of eye and tan of complexion? ? but such prattle was lost amidst the glorious celebration. Robar Royce had won a stunning victory over the old Targaryen remnants in King?s Landing and now fifteen thousand Crownlands men-at-arms and their lords flew Arryn banners! The Tullys had been smashed at Riverrun and their King Kato fled across Ironman?s Bay! _Praise to the Arryn King!_

?My lords.? All commotion ceased as the King in the Vale spoke. ?Today we celebrate the first great triumphs of our new kingdom. The Crownlands in its entirety is ours, save for the worthless rock of Dragonstone. The Riverlands north to Seaguard and west to Riverrun have wisely joined us.?

?Your Grace, a word please.? Robar Royce, Lord of Runestone and Marshal of the Host, rose. ?The initial agreement with the Lannisters was to cede all of the western Riverlands to them, yet Riverrun is ours. How?? 

Matthis smiled with blue lips. ?The new Gold King has graciously renounced his claims to Riverrun. Tynim Lannister has the lands of Acorn Hall, Stony Sept, and Pinkmaiden east until the God?s Eye, but nothing more. No doubt he intends to use us against his old foe in Pyke.? 

?I beg forgiveness for this interruption, Your Grace, but I feel it must be said.? Edwyn Mallister, Lord of Seaguard, pointed at a large map spread over the table. ?The Iron King commands the strongest fleet in the West. My few ships could not hope to match them. Any invasion of the Iron Islands would be a disaster.?

Lord Rykker of Duskendale shot to his feet. ?Mallister! Have you forgotten that we have the North as well? Bran Stark sits outside the Twins with a strong host and has pledged assistance in any worthy campaign. The Greyjoys cannot hope to match our two realms, let alone the Lannisters as well.? 

The bickering quieted as the King in the Vale rose from his seat and cast haunting blue eyes across the assembled lords. ?The Iron Islands are closed to us for now. Return to your camps and await my word. We _will_ strike, I promise you?but _where_ may come as a surprise. Trust in me.? 

Hours later, Matthis sat alone with quill and paper, suppressing a chuckle. It was so clear. Ever since that night, it had become so wonderfully _clear_. The South was moving against itself but the little machinations of his allies prevented him from striking there. The Iron Islands were out of reach. Only one foe was left to him. 

The Wall.

_To His Grace Brandon Stark,

The Riverlands capitulated more quickly than I ever expected. I do apologize for rousing you for seemingly no purpose, but I hope that the Twins sate the wolf?s hunger. Your son has arrived safely in the Eyrie and my niece is on her way to Winterfell. May our two houses bask in the joy of friendship. 

I write to you now concerning a foe common to both of us. The Night?s Watch has betrayed its cause. I am told that you have been threatened by its imbecilic commander, as I have I. He must be dealt with before the situation tumbles out of control. 

I pledge twenty thousand swords to the capture of the Wall. I will exert no claim over the Gift. Together, let us rid the Seven Kingdoms of another menace. 

Respecfully,
Matthis Arryn, King of the East_

Matthis could no longer contain his laughter. It rang long and high across the insides of the spacious pavilion as the Arryn King howled his glee. 

?I see! _*I see!*_?


----------



## Terra Branford (Jul 30, 2011)

Dex Ilwyn was not happy with his Grace's demands; so many wrong demands and all of them dangerous to his family. Who could he or his king trust? It seemed impossible with the current lust for the throne. He was outside, drilling Caleb's sons when the carrier arrived with letters.  He sent the boys to their rooms and read the first letter he was handed from Robert Redwyne, Hand of the King and then he read the message from Winterfell last.

When his Grace Caleb Baratheon arrived at throne room, he was hounded by more guards and his wife, who was purple with anger and sharp tongue as she swore at him silently, though not silent enough for Dex to hear. Had Caleb told his Queen what he had planned for her and her daughters? It was the only explanation for her current outrage. With a sharp motion of his hand to his wife, he growled. "Enough woman, we'll talk about it later. I have business to attend to," he turned to his guards. "See to it that she's safely back at the main house." 

Caleb waited as Casila was dragged out of the room by the guards before he headed over to his throne, tired. When he sat, he held his head in his hands and over his knees. "I was told replies had been received?"

"Yes, my Grace, only--" 

"--Well then read them, m'boy." when Dex had finished the letter from Robert, Hand of the King, Caleb's mouth twitched in a smile. "Ha! He should have mentioned this before; hatching my egg, land and wealth?" he sat back, fingering his long, black beard. "The egg is worth it the most...what about the Starks?"

"Yes my king, they too replied. They said they are welcomed, but may I be frank with you?" when his king's eyes turned to him, he started. "The Starks may have been close friends to your family beforehand but have you not considered what this war might have done to them? They could use your girls and wife against you later, its not safe--"

"The North is vast Dex, large enough for my wife and girls to be safe." he growled, his eyes bitter with annoyance. Dex had been pressing this issue since he made the order, and it was getting on his nerves. "Storm's End is not the safest place for them, for anyone to be frank. I know that if Storm's End is raided they would be the first to be taken as hostages and if not that, death!" he calmed down, rubbing his eyes as he talked. "Have you not heard the saying that one Northerner is worth ten Southern swords?" Dex had heard it before, but he never saw a Northerner fight before, so he only nodded. "They will protect my daughters...I must not lose faith in what allies I have. Most of all, I will not risk my family, not even for a damn throne."

Dex could understand his lord's reasons why, but he still would not agree to it. Handing family over to another, to him, was an idiotic move. "What shall I do then, m'lord?"

"Write back to Robert Redwyne, tell him he may have what he needs," Caleb had wanted to tell him to request there be no senseless bloodshed as they marched, but he realized all bloodshed was senseless and held his tongue. "We shall march against Dorne." he didn't want to pit the Dornish Queen against him, but he had no choice now. "Get a ship ready for my girls, I want them out of here before a week ends. Send a bird to the Starks ahead of time, I wouldn't want them surprised by their appearance. Best they get ready first."

"What about the march? Who will be attending? I could stay with the boys and--"

"No, you shall march out with the dragon egg to Broken Arm. My eldest will join your ranks."

Dex was alarmed. Baros was good with a blade and very clever, but was he good enough to fight in a war? And what if something happened to Caleb while he was gone? Was Baros old enough -- wise enough -- to be Lord and King if something happened to Caleb while they were gone? Had his king gone mad? Ilwyn found his voice to ask, "What of Mekel?"

By the look that swept over Caleb's face, Dex knew he had forgotten his youngest son. He could see the pain in his Lord's eyes as he made the decision to leave him with his brother. "What of your cousin, Dex? Would he be willing to come down here and be a guard for my youngest in your leave? I will be here, but I would like as much protection on him as possible."

Dex had no reason to think his cousin wouldn't, at least not if there was pay in it and if he could take some of his own men with him. But his cousin was too quick to jump the situation, he was always daring and often times he forgot himself -- in all, he could be a danger to Mekel but on the other hand he was a fine swordsman and his men too, and extremely loyal.  "I'm sure I could convince him m'lord, but it would cost heavily."

Caleb waved his hand. "Give him as much as he requests, just see to it that it is done." he stood. "We will leave as soon as possible. Send word to the smithy, have him ready armor and a finer sword for Baros." and then he stood and clamped a hand down on Dex's shoulder, a worried frown on his face. "Do you realize why I'm sending you Dex?"

"I'm not quiet sure, my king, but I assume for your son's protection?" when he got a nod from his lord, he couldn't help but ask. "Why send Baros?"

"The boy has done nothing but stare at and hold that damn egg since we have had it in our possession. He's been requesting to fight alongside my men since he was fourteen, but each time I refused him the next time he brought it up it would more filled with fire and lust than the last. I couldn't deny him any longer..."

"Do you believe him ready, your grace? He is a great swordsman, but do you believe he can stand against trained knights?"

"No one can be entirely sure of things, Dex. But he is a man, not a child, I can no longer hold him." he laughed a husky sound then and grinned at the man he trusted more than his own jealous brothers. "Besides, you'll be there to stop him from acting like a raging fool!"

Dex laughed.

========​
Prince Baros, a young man born of reddish-hazel hair -- courtesy of his mother -- and light brown eyes, was practicing sword in the garden when some of his father's guards arrived. 

"My lord," one of them called out to the eldest prince. "your father has requested you meet with the smithy today."

Baros' thin eye brows lowered down in confusion. "What for?" he sheathed his sword and reached down for a cloth he had set before to wipe at his sweaty brow and neck.

The guards laughed and the one who spoke before said. "He said, word for word, 'You got what you wanted boy, you better not die'."

========​
Important to Tyrell, Stark and Martell! Slight importance to all.


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## Chaos (Jul 30, 2011)

The great doors of the hall opened and Kato Tully strode inside. Jeremiah Greyjoy smiled his mirthless smile, but otherwise remained unmoved as the youth walked up to before the seastone throne. His dead eyes scanned Kato, the former king of the Riverlands, now nothing more than a catspaw to the Kraken. 

Jeremiah liked what he saw. The kid was young, true, but he had witnessed the same horrors as Jeremiah. The murder of the one person who mattered to him, and to boot, the conquest and barter of his ancestral home. The kid was pretty enough, but appearances had long stopped deceiving Jeremiah. One look at the eyes of the kid showed him what he wanted to see. The ice cold gaze of a killer, of a man who would do anything for vengeance.

The great doors slammed closed behind Kato. The Tully kneeled before Jeremiah. "Welcome to Pyke, Kato Tully." Jeremiah's tone was cold, as always. Only a fool would show emotion before a subject. Every single emotion was a new weakness, every emotion but hate. Hate was what kept Jeremiah alive, and looking at the kid kneeling before him, he could see that this one was made out of similar stuff. Perfect.

It was time to get to the point. Jeremiah had no use for courtesies. "Several hundred Tully men followed you. They are now under hospitality of house Blacktyde, as promised. And you're here, even though your last letter didn't quite make it clear you would accept my offer. Nevertheless, I will keep my promise and bring you your vengeance, as long as you keep yours. Say the words as the rightful heir of Riverrun and officially surrender your power to me." Of course, it would do no good at present. The Arryns had taken Riverrun. Nevertheless, on the long run, being the rightful king of the Riverlands was nothing to throw away.

"After this, you will swear your sword, troops and loyalty to me. You will rise as an ironman. And with that come expectations, Kato Tully. Do not disappoint me." And now the perfect finisher. Jeremiah had thought long and hard about these words, and had at last decided the right of them. "Serve me well, serve me as a true ironman, and you might come out better than you ever would have dreamed. When you fight for the Iron King of Pyke, remember he has no heirs as of now. Show me your devotion and power, work for me with all your might, and the Iron Islands might just be yours one day."

Jeremiah smiled his cold smile again. He didn't want any misconceptions to exist. He didn't give a shit about Kato Tully. He didn't give a shit about that dead sister of his, or his quest for vengeance. Tully should know. If he didn't by now, he was a fool. But Tully should also know that Jeremiah's earlier words were no joke.

"Tully, by the time I die, ruling the Iron Islands will mean ruling Westeros."

-------------------------------​
Daemon stood on the prow of his longship. The ship, called 'Storm Cutter' headed a wedge of three hundred ships. The night was dark, but the harbor of Lannisport was already good in sight, as were the great walls of the city. Daemon was happy he wouldn't have to take the walls. The orders had been clear. Destroy the fleet. Destroy whatever else can be destroyed. Return without ever letting it be a real battle. And that was what he planned to do.

In the cover of the night, the longships were hardly visible from the harbor until they were far too close to form any real defense. The oars in the water made no sound, nor did the men. No singing this time, not even a word until Lannisport was burning, Daemon had told his men. To a one, they had obeyed. The archers and soldiers sat crouched between the oarsmen, silent and still as the night itself. 

When the longships at last came into sight, a hail of arrows met the confused defenders. The Greyjoy longships broke into the harbor and alarms were raised. Daemon barked a command that was repeated on all the longships. Flint was struck and fires started blazing in small braziers on every ship. Daemon had taken care. The braziers were attached above the water, so none of their own ships would catch fire.

"Burn this city down." Daemon himself lifted his heavy axe and bellowed a war cry. The night sky filled with fire arrows. Lannister ships started burning. "You know the orders. Burn the fleet, then get the hell out of here." Daemon watched happily as flames touched the skies. Within a few minutes of entry, half the fleet was burning. _The Kraken has returned with tentacles of fire._


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## Cursed panda (Jul 31, 2011)

*A week following the fall of the Tully's-*

*Castle Black-*

The door to James Kavez room opened and shut within the matter of five seconds and as fast as possible. Kavez tuned to see his loyal servant Ian, the keeper of his mail and now his personal helper. 

?Any word of that of the men sent to River Run?? Kavez voice was unhappy and unpleasant it wasn't his normal fear striking, commanding voice, something softer filled with sadness. ?No sir, it's been a week if they didn't die in the fire they where surely killed in the chaos that happened after. I'm sorry.? 

Kavez turned his head toward the floor. He figured a man or two may have died but had no idea that thirty, no wait twenty-nine men would die. Suddenly Kavez realized what he just thought of, he only sent twenty-nine men, he had forgot about the incident with Jack. ?Ian? The boy.? He paused ?Jack was it? Yes, Jack. What of him?? 

?Jack Sir..? Last I heard he was in the medical tent. Hasn't talked at all and barely eats, last I also heard you have blinded him.? Ian paused as to stop and then spoke up again. ?Would you like to see him sir? You saved his life.. I suppose.? 

?Yes, yes I would. Bring me to him.? 

The two of them descended the tower and walked through the snow over to the medical tent that sat alone on a section of the wall. It was large, about half the size of Castle Black's barracks, yet it was rarely used now a days the occasional injury from a small raid from the north but besides that it's only residents where normally people like Jack, victims of Kavez. 

At the moment the medical tent had seven people in it, three doctors, the head doctor ?Fix?. And then three patients. Jack laid in a bed in the far corner, his face was all bandaged up asides from his mouth and nose. 

Kavez approached slowly not sure of what to say to the boy, he wasn't sure if Jack had a way of sensing him or would be unaware of James arrival. ?I hear your armor, no one would wear armor to the medical tent. What have you come for James?? Jack's voice was as it was the first time he had talked to his commander. Fearless, demanding respect. 

?Oh? Do you know why I have come to you?? Ian left as his Commander had begun talking.

?I assume to tell me how you have saved my life? Brag to me of how great of a leader you are? You are going to die soon, you have left far to many holes in your plans Kavez.?

?How do you know of that of River Run?? Kavez had a look of curiosity under his hood, the boy was interesting to say the least.

?Doctors. I ask, they tell.?

?And you say I have left holes in my planning? All you know of is that of the River Run assault, nothing of my full plan.?

?Kavez? Jack stopped and sat up on his bed looking straight forward he had no sense of direction. ?Kavez, I know of what you don't plan on doing, and that alone is enough for me to know of the hole in your plans.?

James curiosity grew more and more as the boy talked. He was speaking of that of a master technician,  knowing of everything with limited resources. Finding what he would consider a hole by knowing hardly nothing. The boy was smart James could tell right away. ?And what don't I plan on doing boy? What is this hole in my plan of which you speak??

?What don't you plan on doing?? Jack stopped and laid back down arms behind his head in a seemingly relaxed position, he gave off a small chuckle. 

?Giants, Giants and Mammoths?


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## The Imp (Jul 31, 2011)

*The Twins*

Lord Julian Frey was an old man of 62. He was a family man and looked out for his children, grandchildren, nieces and nephews. Lords and kings were fickle men. They would change their loyalty at the flip of a coin. The only thing you could count on in this world was family. 

The Freys had 5,000 men encamped inside the castle. He had disobeyed the River King's summons. Lord Frey would not suffer the annihilation of his house against both the Lannisters and Arryns. Kato Tully's war was a fool's war. No, it was best to sell his fealty for the best price. The question was who to sell it to. The Lannisters were rich beyond measure but it was the Starks who were camped outside his walls. They were unblooded men thirsting for battle. He could let them storm the walls and make them suffer thousands of casualties, but in the end the Twins would fall. And that was something Lord Frey would not allow.

There was a knock on the door to his chamber. _It better not be that stupid squire of mine. I love my family but that great nephew of mine is just daft. _ It was Emmon Frey, Julian Frey's son and heir. 

"Father, there's an envoy from the Starks. He's come with a dozen or so other knights. He wishes to negotiate some terms for our surrender. Should I let him into the castle?" Emmon asked.

"Yes. Let them in. This envoy can come meet me in the Great Hall. The others stay in the stables with their horses. Give them food and drink while I treat with this man." Lord Frey responded. 

Lord Julian Frey made his way to the Great Hall. However he took the long way there, first stopping at the battlements. If this man wished to negotiate with him he could wait on him until Lord Frey arrived. 

A half hour later, Lord Frey entered the hall. It was empty but for a lone man in rusted armour. "I hope you haven't waited too long for me," Lord Frey kindly greeted. 

"No, my lord," the other man answered solemnly. If he was frustrated from being forced to wait, his face showed no sign of it. 

As Lord Frey took a seat at the head of the table, he asked the gentleman what his name was.

"Donovan Howe."

"Well, Donovan Howe, what do you want?" Lord Julian Frey coldly asked.

*IMPORTANT to STARKS*


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## Nicodemus (Jul 31, 2011)

*The Ambassador​*
Donovan Howe was a man of thirty years and great dignity. His hands were tanned and weathered from years of hard work and his salt and pepper hair was cropped short. He had gotten the chance to shave before being presented to Lord Frey, so his cheeks were devoid of their usual stubble. 

"Well, Donovan Howe, what do you want?"

Howe bowed low, lower than was perhaps nessecary but you could never be too careful. He smiled as well - it was always good to come to negotiations with a smile.

"Lord Frey. I come to speak for my King, Brandon Stark of Winterfell. By now you of course know that Riverrun has fallen, and Kato Tully is likely dead or dieing. King Brandon would like to extend his hand to your most noble house, in hopes that the Freys would accept him as their new king."

"King Brandon knows of course," he continued, "that a house such as Frey cannot be won with merely words. Which is why he offers you the Neck, and all the land between it and the Twins," he said. "The Freys would also gain the lands previously held by House Reed." He paused, letting Lord Frey digest the information.

Howe of course had another ace up his sleeve - Bran was prepared to offer his hand to the woman of Frey's choosing - but Howe had learned that it was best not to lay out all your offers at once. The lands of the Neck and beyond should be a fine offer to begin with...and there was always the Northern army camped outside Frey's walls.

"If you agree to accept Brandon as your true King, then he requests little from you but a portion of your men to bolster his already significant forces," Howe finished. "It would fall to House Frey to defend the North from any invaders seeking to slip around King Brandon's army."

*Important to Frey and Lannister*


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## The Imp (Jul 31, 2011)

*Lord Frey*

"Hmm... that's quite an offer," Lord Frey said as he nodded his head. "How could anybody deny a swamp infested backwater full of poisonous water? You Northerners really know how to bargain... No, Lord Reed and the rest of his frog-eating friends can keep the Neck. If this King of yours wants me to turn my cloak, he's going to have to offer me something better or storm my walls himself." 

There was a long and silent pause in the room. Then Lord Frey continued, "That is if your King isn't afraid of facing heavy losses. Before I came to negotiate with you, I looked over our battlements and saw the Stark Host. This King in the North brought a force of 20,000 men or near enough that it makes no difference. Manning my walls are 5,000 Frey men. You storm my walls and you will lose half your men."

Julian Frey began cackling softly to himself. After a few moments he calmed down and snorted. "This Brandon Stark sends me a fool, a landless man of little note. Go to your King and tell him if he wants me to bend my knee he'd best come here and treat with me himself." Then he shouted out, "Emmon! EMMON! Hurry up and get in here!"

"Yes, father?" Emmon Frey said meekly. 

"Escort this Donovan Howe and the rest of his men out of my castle," Lord Frey replied as he got up and left the Great Hall making for his chambers.

*IMPORTANT for STARK*


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## Serp (Jul 31, 2011)

"Sir Sir the fleet is burning!" 
"What!?" Shouted Joshua Hill, the current warden of Lannisport. "Whats the Damages?"
"At least half the fleet has been burnt too ashes, the rest is being salvaged as we speak."
"Who the Greyjoy?"
"Aye M'lord. The attack came from the Krakens myself if I could bet my life."
"ready the archers, are the other troops in the field."
"Aye."

Joshua grabbed his lion headed mace and walked out into the streets of Lannisport. The air was think with the burning, he made his was to the docks. 

"You, there!" Joshua shouted at a nearby soldier. "Tell the maesters to send word to my Nephew!"  And the boy ran off. 

The riots had been causing unrest in Lannisport it was getting worse and worse by the day and now this.

Joshua passed a merchant and his sons rolling what looked large barrels towards the docks.
"What are you doing?" Joshua asked them sternly. 

"Lord Hill, I'm sorry we are simple wine sellers, the riots are ruining our trade, we travel to pyke and then onwards to the north to sell our wares Lannisport is failing."

Joshua looked at them "Ag, fine when you get to Pyke though tell them a lion sent you." 

The wine seller bowed and ushered his sons to hurry up to their small boat. 

At the docks, Lannister guardsmen were running around salvaging the ships. 
The archers were ready.

"Ok search everyone and question them, sweetly, if they have the tone of an ironborn sourly then." Joshua shouted. "Lannisport is shut down. Noone, no ship, no horse will leave. Apart from those wine sellers. Anyone who runs shoot them down." 

The sellers looked up to Joshua. "What m'lord?"

"You said you wanted to leave, then Leave."  He look a pouch of gold and threw it to them.
"Send Greyjoy my message."

"Yes m'lord." The sellers left.

*Greyjoy*

------------

Kato Tully was standing before the iron king.
"Greyjoy, I have no use for crowns or lands, so ruling the Iron isles is far from my mind. I'll give you my words as a Tully that the force of Riverrun will be yours and the River Crown with it. Just before I swear it to you, win it for me. Give me my vengeance, against the those who claim my seat. The Arryns hold Riverrun, get it from them, get my livelyhood and my life is yours. I will rise as an Ironman, give me a long ship and the rights of all ironmen, and that I can hold my Tully men and I will rise an Ironman now. But grant liberation of Riverrun and I will say my words and see it and the crown become property of the Iron King."

Greyjoy was a bitter man, Kto could see this, but he himself was a child who had to ally with stronger men himself in order to get stronger so for now he was Greyjoys man.

*Greyjoy*


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## Chaos (Aug 1, 2011)

*Pyke*​
Kato spoke and Jeremiah listened. And with every word the Tully king spoke, the Iron King's facial expression hardened. _The young ones are always arrogant. Always._ When Kato Tully finished speaking, Jeremiah didn't waste a second. "It's hardly your place to give me terms, Tully. I sent you my offer, and you accepted it, now honor your end of the bargain without bullshit. I promised you vengeance, even gave you a chance to be a king again. Are my words not enough for you? Or if you want to put it differently, do you really think I will attack Riverrun now, while Arryns, Starks and Lannisters are swarming the Riverlands? Do you take me for a fool, Kato Tully?"

"It pleases me to announce your vengeance has already begun, though. Lannisport and the Lannister fleet are burning as we speak. If that isn't enough proof for you that I'm planning to sate your vengeance, you are the fool in this room. Now, Tully, speak your vows, and you will get what you asked for in time." What the hell was the kid even thinking? Seriously? Attacking the Riverlands while three different armies were camped there and disputing the lands among themselves?

"Then you will rise an ironman. Then I will give you command of your own longship, and you will be a king upon it. Then I will allow you to visit and rule your remaining troops once again. But not a second before it. You knew my terms, and you came. Don't try to stall, or I will give you to the Drowned God. You're alone and without allies but me. I don't want it to come to that, but I don't like men who don't honor their end of the bargain, and I've grown tired of people trying to get out of it."

"And something else... The whole Realm knows you held one of the remaining dragon eggs. I also know that your family suffered two royal deaths, and that you, or your sister, I don't give half a shit, lit half the Riverlands on fire." Jeremiah's eyes scanned Kato. He could see a certain unease in the boy, though that could just be the fact that the conversation wasn't quite going the way he had predicted. Or...

"The question is, Kato Tully, a question asked by your Sworn Lord and rightful king, where is your dragon?"

*Tully*


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## The Imp (Aug 1, 2011)

*Lord Frey*

The maester entered the room with a letter in his hands. "My lord, the Lannisters have sent you a letter."

Lord Frey took the letter from the Maester and quickly ushered him out while telling him, "Tell nobody of this letter. Pretend it doesn't exist." It was best to keep this matter as private as possible. Lord Frey walked across the room to his soft chair by the fire. He sat down and broke the seal. Lord Frey read the short letter twice before feeding it to the flames.

Hmm... So this Lannister would offer me a marriage. That's quite a gracious offer even for a king. Although it's a bit presumptuous of him to believe he won this castle and 40% of its incomes. He's never even stepped foot on my lands. But that's a King for you. 

Before I send word back to this Golden King, it would be wise to see what Starks next move is.


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## Serp (Aug 1, 2011)

*Pyke*
"Greyjoy, the offer was agreed but not the terms. I am here to honour our bargin, but is it folly for me to try and decipher the complete terms, I may not have been a king long but I know to know as much as you can. All I asked for is that you grant me vengeance and on your word I will take it. Raise me as a Ironman now and I will serve you. You as my sworn Lord"

Kato ran his hand through his newly darkened hair.
"I am the rightful heir of Riverrun. It is mine by rights, but at the moment it is the seat of Usurpers and it is not mine to give. I can only promise you it on words and words are wind. When we reclaim Riverrun I will wholy swear it to the Iron King." 

Katos eyes Narrowed. 
"I could say the egg never hatched, or I lost it in the escape attempt." Kato laughed. 
"But as a sign of good will, I will tell you. My dragon, is with me always. But only a hatchling she rests in my kettle. Now she is sleeping. But as my lord I will show you now if you wish, but if you want to see her in her beauty, allow me rest and feed, feel the sway of my boat and when she is healthy, you can gaze upon her. The choice is yours. But first."

Kato got down on one knee.
"King Jeremiah Greyjoy, I lord Kato of house Tully, swear allegiance to the Iron Isles and the Seastone chair. Granting it Riverrun when the castle is returned to me its lord." 

*Greyjoy*
--------------

Casterly Rock.

"Your Grace!" A blonde squire ran upto the king.

"Yes what is it?"

"The Starks are in argument over the Twins, they wish to claim it and seem to be willing to fight for it."

"Ah this is unwise for the starks, but whoever the Arryns ally with could lead to the downfall of the opposing house."

"Erm." The squire seemed unsure on what to say.

"Leave us!" Tynim said to the boy and he scuttled away.

"Nim, have you gotten the message." Tymin said as he entered the hall.

"Of the Starks?" 

"No of Lannisport nuncle Joshua sent word of the burning of the fleet."

"And what is the situation now."

"Under control, he questioning Lannisport now."

"Ah so it seems the Stark problem is getting worse now."

"Stark?"

"Yes they contesting with us over the Twins and we are out of bargining chips."

Tymin laughed. "We have one more. Tyra."

Tynims eyes widened. "Ah yes sweet sister. And possible we kill two birds with one stone."

He began to pen a letter.

_His grace Brandon Stark Lord of Winter,
I see we are in contest over the twins. I do not wish to fight, so I offer this.
Marry my sweet sister Tyra Lannister, to any Stark male you wish, even yourself. 
And place them side by side as Lord and Lady of the twins. And if Lord Frey accepts any marriage from either of us,
the Freys will still be bound by blood to either of the new Lord or Lady of the crossing and there will be peace with the North, the Riverlands and the West. And we can turn our faces to the Krakens at our backs.

_Tynim sealed it with wax and lion of the Lannister and ushered it off by Raven.

*Stark*


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## Coteaz (Aug 1, 2011)

*The King in the Vale*

*Lord Harroway’s Town*

At last, the Arryn host was moving. Celebrations finished, heads throbbing from drink, the men of the East packed camp and awaited their King’s final orders on the banks of the Trident. 

“Lord Belmore, return to Harrenhal and finish securing our new border with the Lannisters. Three thousand Crownlands men should suffice.” Matthis Arryn, self-proclaimed King of the East jabbed at the map inside his pavilion. “Lord Corbray, you know the eastern Riverlands from your earlier campaign. We have reports of peasant riots in Saltpans and Maidenpool – deal with them.”

Lord Corbray scratched his chin. “A gold dragon to any informer, the headsman’s axe to any traitor and his family. Usually works with these kinds of swine. I’ll be taking my two thousand sworn swords, Your Grace, and be off.” Matthis nodded as the Lord of Heart’s Home marched from the tent. 

“Now, where is my br – ah.” Haunting blue met earthy brown as Ser Marcus Arryn strode into the pavilion, his face hardening as he locked eyes with his brother. _The pious fool does not approve of my…changes._

“Brother, we must speak. I don’t know what you did with that godless warlock, but it is surely not ordained by the Seven. Please, let me pray with - ” Matthis cut him off with a flawless white hand. 

“Not now, dear brother. Look here.” The King in the East gestured at Riverrun on the map. “The Greyjoys are rattling their axes along the coasts. Riverrun is ours and it must be garrisoned to solidify Arryn power in the West. You will take ten thousand Vale swords, the majority of my personal host, to fortify it and the Riverlands.”

“Vale swords?” Marcus frowned. “Why not simply use our new Riverlands bannermen to…ah, yes, I see. Clever as always, brother.”

Matthis smiled with thin blue lips. “Kato Tully is unaccounted for. We cannot have our newly-knelt river lords turning tail should he resurface. Loyal men of the Vale will ensure that our new lands remain on the right side.” A thought flashed through the King’s mind. “Add to that five thousand Crownlands swords led by Lord Rykker of Duskendale to secure the coast near Seaguard. Yes, I believe that will be quite suitable.”

Lord Robar Royce coughed into a bronze-armored hand. “And what of my host, Your Grace?” 

“We march south to King’s Landing. Joining your six thousand with the river lords and remaining crown lords will give us near twenty-three thousand men to pacify these rumored disturbances in the city. There is also the issue of our fleet…”

“True enough, Your Grace. My men captured a score of war galleys and dromonds during the battle. Adding them to our Gulltown ships gives us a sizeable naval force…but on the wrong coast to fight those krakens.” 

Matthis stared at the map with unblinking blue eyes as he waved away his brother and lords. The pavilion was empty save for himself and a shadow that detached itself from a corner to hover at the King’s shoulder. 

“Magnificence.” The warlock jerked into sight, shadows falling away to reveal plain black robes.

“Black Harrenhal is yours, Xaxus Xar Din.” Matthis spoke barely above a whisper. “Old Lord Whent is a spent man and Belmore is a bellicose fool. Take it as your seat of power and make good on the rest of your promises.” 

The Qartheen warlock smiled with blue lips and blue eyes. “Oh yes, Magnificence. The dark memories and stained noble blood in that place shall serve this one well. All shall be as Xaxus Xar Din says.” 

One last task remained for the King of the East. Gathering quill and paper, Matthis wrote a hasty note and handed it to Maester Kratz as he left the pavilion. 

_To Tynim Lannister, Gold King of the West

I have sent my brother Ser Marcus west to Riverrun with fifteen thousand swords. He will secure the coasts against the Greyjoys and stand ready to repel any ironborn invasion. Know that the Arryns have not forgotten the plight of our allies. 

Matthis Arryn, King of the East_

*Lannister, Plague*, minor importance to *Greyjoy*


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## Cursed panda (Aug 1, 2011)

*Castle Black-*

?Giants?? Kavez tone switched over to sarcastic the kid went from smart to crazy in a brief second.

?Yes giants, easier then you are thinking Kavez.? A slight small could be seen on the visible area of Jack's face, probably as much of a smile as he could muster. Kavez was once again curious, Jack was surely crazy however maybe he did have a plan. ?How do you plan on letting that of Giants join our cause, at first sight of my troops they would attack. They hate the wall.?

?Then use that to your advantage.? Jack laid back down on his bed, his smile disappearing from his face. His head turned to the right and now actually was facing in James general direction. ?Offer them the wall.? 

The room was suddenly filled with a different sort of silence, one of confusion, amazement, and questions. The doctors who up until this point had been only slightly listening where now fully listening and watching the two argue. The king of the Wall's fury rose as the boy spoke more and more. ?Come bearing gifts they won't attack right away. Then propose a meeting, offer them the wall if they help your conquest. Tell them that as soon as Westeros is liberated that they are free to take the wall.?
Jack stopped and took a breath he was talking fast to get as much out as possible in little time. ?No need to follow up on your deal, after they have helped out kill off the survivors.? 

The room once again was filled with silence

James stared at Jack, rage flowing through him. ?How can I try to liberate the world and kill off the worthless Kings if I'm no better? Lie?! I'm trying to prevent that!? James stood up and turned away.

?It's for the cause! It has to be done!? 

?No it doesn't!? The yells of the two had now drifted outside and a small crowd was growing outside the door. 

?Sacrifices have to be made! Do you want to liberate this kingd-? Jack's voice was outdone as Kavez bellowed over him.

?You stupid crazy piece of shit! You know nothing of what I'm trying to do! I'm not going to build a new kingdom on lies! Even if it is to the savages of the north!?

?You need an advantage! You need the north! The kingdoms have everything you have and more!? Jack stood up uneasily and faced Kavez general direction. The crowd was getting bigger by the second, Ian was pushing his way to the front.

?Damnit! Your young no nothing of the world.?

?You are going to d-? 

At that moment the King of the North turned around and punched Jack with all his might in his stomach. Jack went flying onto his bed unconscious. The King of the North turned to his crowd who where no backing up and running and saw Ian standing there in shock.

?Bring me Bone's squad and The Death Ravens! I have a city to liberate and Giants to gain.?

Ian stood and stared at his Commander and then followed up on the orders.


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## The Imp (Aug 2, 2011)

*Robert Redwyne, Hand of the King in the Reach*

Maester Lemin had brought the message from the Lannisters earlier this morning. Robert Redwyne had been pacing back and forth ever since. There was a lot on his mind and this reply from the Lannisters only made it more strenuous. 

_Tynim Lannister is willing to ally himself to the Reach but it will cost us men. 3000 men to be exact and that was too many to spare at the moment. 30,000 men are on their way to the Reach and with this rioting in Oldtown and wars ravaging Westeros, we need these spare 5000 men to keep the Reach safe and secure. Yet, the Lannisters are willing to ally themselves with us, free and willing. This isn't a House you can just throw away without a second thought. _

The Baratheons had also sent back their reply. Robert Redwyne put the Lannisters aside and focused on the issue he could deal with right away. He began penning a letter back to the Storm King.

_Caleb Baratheon, The Storm King

I am glad our houses will be allied together to face a common foe. Many of our proposals cannot be met until the successful conquest of Dorne. It is not wise to marry Markas Tyrell with one of your daughters during these troubled times, however a public betrothal will suffice for now.

We'd best coordinate our attacks together to ensure our mutual success. 10,000 Tyrell men have marched to the Prince's Pass. They are slowly making their way South. It is a heavy infantry unit due to the difficult terrain of the Dornish Marches. Send 10,000 of your own men to bolster this force as it makes its way South. This is a diversion to draw the Dornish forces to them. 

This will leave Sunspear with only a token defense and that is where the hammer will drop hardest. My King, Will Tyrell, is personally leading our naval fleet of 20,000 men strong towards Planky Town. From there they will march directly on Sunspear. Storm King, take an additional 10,000 men and sail them down the East Coast and land on the Broken Arm. March on Sunspear from there and meet up with Will Tyrell's host. Sunspear will quickly fall to 30,000 swords. Dorne will be ours and your dragon will be born.

Robert Redwyne, Hand of the King in the Reach_

*IMPORTANT to BARATHEON*, MILDLY IMPORTANT to LANNISTER


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## Nicodemus (Aug 2, 2011)

*Bran*​
Bran was not really one for politics, but sometimes, he supposed, you had to do what you had to do.

Howe had returned to camp only yesterday, claiming Julian Frey had not only laughed at his original offer, but forced him to go before he could reveal that Bran's hand was also being offered. Bran moaned.

Of course he would have to go and make the damn offer himself.

The white and grey armor was magnificent, he had to admit - all intricate carvings of wolves and snowstorms and such, but Bran thought it all a bit much, so he left the wolf's head helmet in his tent. On his left hip hung _Blizzard_, and Bran grabbed the hilt, took a deep breath, and took his first step into the castle of the Freys.

He had decided, after much debate, to leave Winter just outside the castle. The large bear wasn't happy about it, but Bran had decided that any intimidation Winter might provide would probably be outweighed by the fear and or disgust with the massive creature. 

He approached Julian How slowly, cautiously, and finally bent a knee when he was close enough. He was the King in the North, true, but Julian was not of the North at the moment, and in Bran's mind, every man was the King of his own home. Besides, it never hurt to show a little extra respect.

"Lord Frey," Bran said, after rising, "my messenger informs me that you have declined the offer of the Neck."

After giving Frey a moment to respond, Bran continued. "While I understand the hesitancy you may have about the swamplands of the Neck, I assure you that the offer was not meant as an insult. I want only the best for my subjects, and if you agree to count yourself amongst them, then I'm sure we can work out a deal more to your liking." He smiled. "But it is obvious to me now that land simply isn't enough. And that," he said, steeling himself, "is why I offer my hand in marriage to the woman of your choosing, should you decide to serve me. They would of course, become Queen in the North beside me, and bear my heirs, who would rule Winterfell, and the North, upon my passing." 

He bowed again. "I humbly await your response Lord Frey."


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## The Imp (Aug 2, 2011)

*Lord Frey*

Marriage? What were the chances that two great houses would offer the same thing. Lord Frey couldn't help but laugh. So he did and he laughed louder than he had in years. The sound vibrated through the Hall and echoed for a good minute before it quieted down.

Brandon Stark looked at him puzzled. Before he took it as a slight, Lord Frey began talking. "What are the chances that you would offer me your marriage only hours after I got the same proposal from that Lannister King? If only I had gotten more children off of my late wife." Lord Julian Frey looked down in disappointment before continuing. "But as it stands all of my children are married and I only have one granddaughter. She's a young one. Only 16 and hoping to be carried off by a prince from one of her fairy tales. It looks like her dream will come true, but with a King. So tell me, why should I marry her to you instead of that Lannister?"


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## Nicodemus (Aug 2, 2011)

*Bran*​
Bran did his best to cover his surprise. He knew the Lannisters might move to take the Twins out from under him, but he hadn't known that they had already acted - and with a marriage proposal. This was tricky ground, best tread it carefully.

"The Lannisters are rich beyond compare, I'll grant you that," Bran said. "But they are not in the best of positions. Their fleet has been destroyed by the Greyjoys, and Lannisport burned. They sit in the South, surrounded by enemies that would like nothing more than to crush them and take everything. And believe me, Lord Frey, they will fall, just as Tully fell. And where will you be then?"

"But I," Bran continued, "I offer you the North. Beyond the Neck it is Stark lands, and only Stark. House Arryn is my ally, and the wife and daughters of Caleb Baratheon my wards. Even if they were to turn on me, none can break the Neck, and the addition of the Twins would make the north even more fortified. So I ask you, Lord Frey, would you like a dying seat in the West? Or a seat in the North, a seat that grows ever stronger?"


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## The Imp (Aug 2, 2011)

*Lord Frey*

"You make a compelling offer. Yes, the North is heavily fortified at the Neck and Moat Caitlin. It can fight off a Southern invasion. You may have an alliance with the Arryns and Baratheons and whoever else, but I will give you one piece of advice... Alliances are weaker than twigs, they can be broken without a moment's notice. The North is safe but the Twins lie South of Moat Caitlin. It's defenses do not protect us. Should you face war, the Twins will fall first," Lord Frey said sternly. He got up from his seat and walked towards the King in the North.

"The North is vast. It takes time to raise a host and by then this castle would be taken. And that is something I cannot tolerate. Marry my granddaughter and make me your Warden of the South. Allow me to call your banners south of Moat Caitlin, as far west as Cape Kraken and your current and future territories in the Riverlands should I need them in dire circumstances. The Twins will become your foothold into the Southern, Eastern and Western realms. Do me this honour and I will be your man." Lord Julian Frey fell to his old brittle knees waiting for the King's response.


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## Terra Branford (Aug 3, 2011)

Upon reading the Hand of the King Robert Redwyne, Dex had the forces prepare to leave Storm's End and sent the last letter to Robert confirming that Caleb Baratheon had sent a fleet of 10, 000 men down the east coast to meet up with Will Tyrell's naval fleet at Planky Town with Dex Ilwyn and his son Baros Baratheon with the black and gold dragon egg he hoped would hatch for them and 10,000 more he sent marching South to Prince's Pass. The letter also agreed on marriage in which Caleb Baratheon offered the hand of his eldest daughter, Marsella Baratheon, to the hand of Markas Tyrell.

At first Dex had argued before he left with Caleb that taking 20, 000 men out of Storm's End would surely be a problem, but his king had said that his men were well trained and that if anything occurred, his naval fleet would be withdrawn immediately -- hopefully after they conquer Sunspear -- to provide protection while the remaining forces held off whomever might attack. And with that said, Dex knew not to argue and left with the fleet.

======​
Baros was holding the black and gold egg within one of boat's cabins, feeling its warmth vibrate through him, giving him strength and power. He remembered the words his father gave to him before he was sent off. "The egg needs king's blood to hatch..."

And those words kept fluttering around in his head, determined to convince him to spill royal blood for it. What would he do if the Dornish queen pleaded for mercy and dropped her force's weapons? Would he strike her down like some butcher for the sake of an egg and his father? Fighting against her men was one thing, but he didn't want unnecessary blood on his hands, especially if that person surrendered. He prayed she wouldn't bend the knee just in case mercy wouldn't be given to her. He was well aware of Will Tyrell's anger toward the Martells and his own father's squabbles with the Martells and knew her House motto "Unbent, unbowed, unbroken" would soon be "bent, bowed and broken" against the allied forces of his House the Baratheons and House Tyrell.

Just as he put the egg away, someone knocked on his door and entered without permission. It was Dex, shining in his black and gold-yellow armor, his face calm. "My Prince, we are about to pull out. Your Lady is at the docks, she wishes a moment with you to say her goodbyes and wish you luck."

"Tell her I shall be there in a moment, Dex." the Hand of his father bowed his head and turned, shutting the door behind him. And then it was settled for Baros. For his father, mother, sisters and brother and even his Lady he would march and conquer for their safety, and hatch the egg.

======​
Important to Tyrell; march/fleet sent off.


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## The Imp (Aug 4, 2011)

*Robert Redwyne, Hand of the King in the Reach*

Robert was out on the terrace thinking of the Lannisters and their proposition. It was a nice, warm day. Sunny with no clouds in sight. It was days like these that he missed his family. Robert's wife and children were at home on the Arbor. He had left them there to govern their lands in his absence after Will appointed him Hand of the King.

Robert was turning to head back inside when he spotted a group of riders racing up the Rose Road. They were coming from the South-West. _Could it be word from Oldtown and Will?_ Robert decided it was best to determine this for himself. He got his personal guard and rode down to Highgarden's outer walls. 

Robert arrived at the gate just as the mysterious riders passed through. There were 10 riders, 9 were dressed in the garb of Hightower soldiers. The more interesting one was garbed in a grey cloak. His back was towards the Hand as he talked to one of his companions. The soldier in question gathered the horses and started herding them towards the stables. The man in the grey cloak turned around to face Robert. He was wearing a mask of black iron. _Why has the Citadel sent an archmaester to Highgarden?_

"Hightower men are always welcome in Highgarden. Although it is peculiar that they have brought an archmaester with them. Pardon the discourtesy, but why are you here?" A mystified Robert questioned.

"It's been a long time since we last met, Lord Redwyne. I was only a boy when I discarded the golden rose to join the Citadel. And I'm afraid I haven't visited Highgarden or the Arbor in years. My grey brothers recently elevated me to Archmaester of Ravenry so I'm duty bound to wear this mask. Hopefully, you recognize me better now," the man said as he took off his mask.

"Symon? Is that you, my boy?" A look of recognition flashed over Robert's face. "It is! It's been so long! Look at you, an archmaester of the Citadel and your only 26. Did you see your father in Oldtown?"

Symon looked around in paranoia before responding. "Yes, yes. I have much and more to tell you but we had best head up into the keep first. We don't want the wrong pair of ears listening in on us."

The company of men made their way up to the keep. Redwyne's household guards went back to their other duties. Symon's escort was left in the servant's hall to wait for food and refreshment. Lord Redwyne and Archmaester Symon retreated to the Hand's chambers to talk in silence where nobody else would hear their conversation. 

"So Symon, my boy, any word from your father? Has he left Oldtown?"

"Yes he left Oldtown two night's ago. But not before throwing a large feast that no one in Oldtown is soon to forget. That's my father for you. He loves his wine and no man can say he doesn't share," Symon smiled brightly. "Father's told me what you plan to do. I can't say I agree with sending 30,000 men into battle. You've left the Reach with minimal defenses but I guess it's better that you deal with the Dornish situation as soon as possible. I'm glad to hear you've found an addittional 20,000 men though."

"How do you know about our alliance with the Stormlands? I've kept this matter as quiet as possible. Nobody knows about it yet," Robert Redwyne quickly asked in confusion.

"I have my own sources. My little grey sheep." Symon smirked slyly. "Of course the other archmaesters aren't happy that you've promised him a dragon. But we'll have to deal with that in time. The Citadel has sent me to aid you in my own special way."

"And can I trust the Citadel? They're loyal to all of Westeros."

"No. That is where you are wrong. The Citadel is loyal to the realm, and that realm is now solely the Reach. We have only one King, the King in the Reach." Symon stated. "I'd best aid you in more immediate concerns. I have new info on the Lannisters. The Greyjoys have attacked Lannisport. The Lannisters are trying to keep everything quiet, but my sources say that atleast half of their fleet has been destroyed in the raid." 

"What!? When did this happen?"

"It hasn't been more than a day. This is information coming from a trustworthy source, you can count on that." Symon said matter-of-factly.

"The gods must be looking down in favour of the Reach. This changes everything. Symon I thank you. This is exactly what I've needed. I need to get my ink and parchment and send word soon."

*Tynim Lannister, The Gold King,

Your Grace, had you sent that letter earlier, those 3000 men would have been yours. But word has reached me that the Greyjoys have destroyed your fleet, the one thing the Reach needed above else. Now you have an enemy that you cannot attack and allies that cannot give you ships.

But the Reach is here for you. We possess the only remaining fleet on the West Coast that has any hope of challenging the Greyjoys and getting men onto the Iron Islands. We will help you.

In return the Reach requests all of your lands south of the Gold Road, excluding Lannisport. 30% of all incomes from the Westerlands including Casterly Rock and an initial payment of 1 million golden dragons. Additionally Lily Tyrell will be betrothed to yourself, Tynim Lannister. 

This is a small price to pay for a lasting friendship between the Tyrells and Lannisters.

Robert Redwyne, Hand of the King of the Reach*

"Symon send this to Casterly Rock," Robert Redwyne said.

Symon read the letter, smiled, and left the room to do as he was told.

*VERY IMPORTANT to LANNISTERS*


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## Nicodemus (Aug 4, 2011)

*Bran​*
Bran nodded towards Lord Frey, signaling him to stand. "Your price is fair," he said. "In exchange for your loyalty I will take your daughter's hand in marriage and make you my Warden of the South. Frey will become one of the greatest houses in the Kingdom in the North." He grinned. "I hope this is the beginning of a very valuable partnership for the both of us.


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## Coteaz (Aug 4, 2011)

*The Knight of the Vale*​
Dust rose in great clouds as fifteen thousand men marched west on the hard-packed dirt of the River Road. Ser Marcus Arryn, heir to the Vale and brother to the King of the East, rode with his retinue of knights and brooded. 

_My brother is falling into darkness._ Marcus had always known of Matthis? queer interest in the obscene arts of the arcane, but until now he had always waved it off as a mere eccentricity. Some men loved to hunt, some loved to write; perhaps others loved strange knowledge as his brother did? 

No more. Whatever happened that night, when Matthis? eyes became blue and his skin unnaturally white, was undoubtedly the work of the foul warlock. The vile creature may have its claws sunk deep into his brother, but all evil may be undone by the grace of the Seven. 

_He needs a woman. A good, honest, Gods-fearing woman to set him right. The Father knows ? if it worked for me, it can work for Matthis._

That night, as his host camped about the Inn of the Kneeling Man, Marcus Arryn sent for Maester Titus and his ravens. Matthis may have replaced their old tutor with that sniveling worm Kratz, but Ser Marcus always had need of honest counsel. Hours later, a lone raven winged its way west.

_King Tynim Lannister,

I fear that I have no use for mincing pretty words as does my brother, so I will make this honest and to the point. 

Matthis Arryn, King of the East, is unmarried. He needs a good and honest woman by his side to bear his children and tame his inner demons. Your younger sister, Princess Tyra, is a fair maiden and a good match. Promise her hand to King Matthis and as heir to the Vale I shall ensure that my brother follows through. 

The joining of Arryn and Lannister would bring stability to both our lands and rebuff the advances of the krakens. House Arryn can muster over forty thousand swords to defend the realm. New fleets can be raised in time. Against a united East and West, the Iron King is powerless. 

By the Grace of the Seven, I swear these words are true.
Ser Marcus Arryn, Heir to the Vale_

*IMPORTANT TO LANNISTER*


----------



## Serp (Aug 5, 2011)

Tynim took up quill again and started to write.

_His Grace Will Tyrell,
I offered you the Lion Fleet of Lannisport to help protect Lannisport itself. But Lannisport has failed and half our fleet to the ash. The remainder is being fixed and worked upon as we speak, and in the end half a fleet is still a fleet. The ships are still ours if you wish it. I had offered my brothers hand to any Tyrell maid of your choice in my last letter, a golden prince is not enough to sweeten the deal for you, but yet you ask for mine own hand. I hath offered my hand to Lord Frey in hopes of gaining full control over the twins and a Lannister always pays his debts if that falls through and Stalk seems determined to steal my lands from me then a golden crown and king shall be that for your young rose. But the matter of payment is another matter, no price is too much for a Lannister, but the price is radical, for 1 million dragons and three tenths of Lannister earnings I could hire the golden company and half of Braavos for my cause, I offer you my entire fleet for 3 thousand men and you offer your fleet later for my lands and coin of great worth. I counter propose this, on the reveal if the Frey have allied with the Starks for control of my castle, I will take your Tyrell bride and shower her in golden petals, and shower your men with swords, your pockets with dragons, 1 million if you desire, grant you a keep in the Westerlands or Riverlands that I own and the remaining amount of my fleet, help me crush the Greyjoys, I will help you against Dorne and together we take the Starks. Yes the Lion fleet cannot defeat the Greyjoys but neither can yours alone, and if the Greyjoys take the west they will come for the reach, after your campaign in Dorne it may be easy. For peace between our houses consider my deal. 
Tynim Lannister, the golden king. 

_*TYRELL*-----------------

Dragonstone. 

Serion was outside, he looked at the great castle, it was an island all of itself. Dragonstone it was called, what better place for a dragon to roost. Tom had begun to talk about the Targaryens more and more as they and the Ursa began to restore the destroyed castle. Tom seemed to have a great love for the dragonlords and his voice often was filled with what sounded like regret that they were gone. Tom often seemed to be looking at Serions white hair, but a glance at his dark skin thereafter turned away any further looks Tom gave him.

Their combined effort had started on the lower levels of the castle, they rested in the depthes of the castle. Dinner was the same venison stew from deer killed in the kingswood, the stew was thick with turnips and the meat was thinner and the turnips larger each day but it filled them up. 

Serion often snuck out at the night and climbed through Dragonstone, he found things such as abandoned suits of armour, black polished steel with dragons patterned on it, and swords. Great braziers littered the castle, at the moment they were used as a source of heat and to cook over while the kitchen was being repaired. To the top of the castle, the stairs twisted and turned like a wild river, the steps blood red against the black of the walls. Serion walked into one of the rooms and looked out to the mainland of Westeros. He had a whistle in his pocket, the runes carved into it were what binded it to Ghisgar, his dragon would always come if he called, it had been a while since he had seen his dragon, but would this be the night he decides to call him to Dragonstone. He knew Ghisgar would be hunting now, the dragon always hunted far at night and he could have sworn he saw him flying outside the night before, until the men started joking about ol' Whents ghost of a bat.

He was about to place the whistle in his mouth and blow when he heard a noise from a room opposite his own. He went to investigate. In the room was a man, he was old and his body looked hacked and tired. From the armour on the floor, Serion could tell it was Tom. This was the first time he had seen Tom without his armour, Tom was also looking out towards Westeros only his back was on show. Serion made a noise and Tom turned and grabbed his sword and pointed it at Serion. Toms face was blackened in places and burnt in others, his hair most all gone, but his piercing blue eyes haunted Serion. His clothes were not quite as modest as what Serion was wearing but twice as soiled. It was a greenover coat, with a bear on his breast.

"Serion!" Tom said his eyes still piercing. "What are you doing?"

Serion looked down at the dragon whistle in his hand and Tom saw it too. Serion tried to stuff it away in his breeches but Mormont grabbed his hand. 

"Stealing from my dead lords. I didn't allow you to join the Ursa for you to steal from the dragons!" Serion could see that Tom was not himself, drunk or vacant from milk of the poppy.

He raised his sword to strike down Serion. Serion barely evaded. 
"No its mine, my father gave it to me!"

"The others bugger your lies! You have lied from the start boy." Tom shouted.

"Its mine, please believe me." Serion was crying now as Mormont tried to strike him down.

"Why would a bastard born boy like you have, rather how could you afford a mine horn such as that, inlayed with gold and a dragons head, all you preach is lies. Is Serion even your real name!?"

The sword nicked Serion's left arm, just enough to draw blood and Serion started to scream. He did what he always did when he was scared grabbed the whistle and blew into it, heat filled his lungs but it caused no pain, no damage to him. The sound was loud and quiet at the same time.  

Mormont looked at him as he blew the horn.
Serion stood up, act strong, be strong.
"I am Serion, Serion of Essos, across the narrow sea, I live at the top of the great pyramid of Valyria, my ancestral seat. I am Serion Vi Targaryen!" It was then that Ghisgar flew through the window and landed next to Serion, dragon fire filled the air. 

And Serion looked down at Mormont, his skin was dark, but his hair was white and his mind young, but Serion had one thing he was sure of. Black Blood and Black Fire.


----------



## The Imp (Aug 6, 2011)

*Robert Redwyne​*It was the middle of the night, but it was tiring work running a kingdom. Robert was trying to catch a few hours of sleep but the Reach was in the middle of a war. Robert had told all of his maesters to wake him immediately if anything new happened. Symon, Robert's chief adviser, walked into his chambers. He woke Robert up and told him the Lannisters had sent back their reply. 

"Yes, give me a moment to gather myself, Symon," Robert said after yawning. Robert got up went to the basin and washed his face. He was still in his night gown but he walked to his desk anyway. He took the letter and began reading. "Hmm, I'd never thought that any price could be too expensive for a Lannister of Casterly Rock. I guess you learn new things everyday." Robert joked. "Well it seems that the Gold King has offered his hand to another, a Frey. Symon do you have any new information on this matter that our dear Lannister friend doesn't?"

"The Freys have allied themselves with another. My sources tell me that Lord Frey has offered his granddaughter's hand to a Stark. The Twins belong to the wolves now."

Robert took his quil and began writing.

_Tymin Lannister, The Gold King,

The political situation of both our houses has changed since our original proposal. Since then the Baratheons have joined the Tyrell cause. Together we can raise over 60,000 swords, even more once Dorne is conquered. And that is only days away from being accomplished. The aid of the remaining Lannister fleet is no longer necessary for our war on Dorne.

I'm surprised you would spurn the hand of a princess for a petty noble's daughter. And yes you could purchase the Golden company but they are a continent away and too far to aid you in your current predicament.

The Reach's fleet may not be able to defeat these Ironborn scum but we can distract them long enough to transport your men onto the Iron Islands and make a direct assault on the Seastone Throne.

The Reach wants Crakehall, Cornfield and Silverhill along with all of their lands. In return you will have gained all of the Iron Islands. We want 1 million golden dragons made in 2 payments. 500,000 before the Tyrell fleet comes to your aid. Another 500,000 once the Greyjoys have been defeated. We want 15% of all annual incomes from all of your territories and Casterly Rock for the next 30 years. Additionally, we request the public announcement of your betrothal to Lily Tyrell. The wedding will take place once the Greyjoys are defeated. 

This is our final offer. Now it's up to you to decide whether the Tyrell fleet stops at Oldtown or if it continues North to crush the Greyjoys.

Robert Redwyne, Hand of the King in the Reach_

"Symon, I'm going to grab a few hours of sleep. Make sure this is sent to the Lannisters," Robert said drowsily.

*Import for Lannisters*

___________________________________________​
*Will Tyrell​*"That's some delicious wine. I don't know what I would do without the Arbor!" Will Tyrell exclaimed.

"Father, you best not get too drunk. We'll be in the middle of battle soon. We've just passed the opening of the Brimstone," Markas Tyrell cautioned. "Captain, how much longer till we reach Planky Town?"

The Captain screamed back over the wind,"If these favourable winds stay strong, we should be there within 4 days. If not, it might take an extra day or two."

*Important for Martells and Baratheons *


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## Terra Branford (Aug 7, 2011)

Baros was sitting in a cabin of the ship named Wrath when he heard one of the men shout they had just pass into The Broken Arm. The ride had been long, tiring and boring, but soon they would march on Planky Town and Sunspear, and it would all be over. He would have his dragon, he would return home to his lady and his father would continue this war however he sees fit.

The captain of the ship had told him there would be a massive slaughter of Dorne to win this and that he personally wanted to see to killing at least thirty men before they left, which made Baros a bit uneasy. But blood was the only way...the only way to hatch his dragon egg, a black and gold beauty that thrummed and was always warm to touch. His father had told him before he left that a dragon was a vicious, fiery beast that ate children and to be careful around it. It wouldn't be long until the egg would hatch and he would have a dragon of his own -- a powerful beast that could turn the war around.

Rapid knocking on the door disrupted his thoughts. The door swung open and it was Dex, bowing his head lightly before he wandered in. "We will pass Sunspear in a day or by the latest about two days, and soon we'll land south of Planky Town on Lemon Wood and then march to Planky Town and wait for the other forces before we attack Sunspear." Dex saw the egg laying in Baros' lap and continued, cautiously. "If this is not what you want my prince, you need naught continue. Just say the word and you will be shipped back to your father -- with the egg."

Baros' eyes lit with strength. "Ours is Fury," he said, standing to put the egg away. Dex simply nodded and turned, leaving the young prince alone.

============

Storm's End​
Caleb Baratheon had received word that his 10,000 men had just reached the Prince's Pass and would soon meet up with the other forces. He wondered how many of his men would he lose and how long the battle would last and found himself hoping it was a swift battle.

"My King," one of his knights had entered the throne room and bowed. "I was told you needed me?"

Caleb nodded as he sat aside the letter. "Bring me a pen, I need to write to Winterfell and know what has become of my girls."

"Yes m'lord."

============​
Important to Tyrell, Mrtell and slightly important to Stark.


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## The Imp (Aug 9, 2011)

*Will Tyrell*

"Hey son we're almost near Plankytown now. I'll be leading the sortie. It's time I show you young'uns that I can still fight with the best of them," Will Tyrell claimed with a big smile on his old withered face. "After that, we'll get our long awaited vengeance on those Martell scum. They'll rot in hell for killing your brother."

There was silence on the boat. Despite Will Tyrell's thirst for vengeance, everyone on the ship knew that his firstborn son's death was an accident. But Will Tyrell was their king and they would stand behind him wherever he took them. Will had a charisma around him that drew people towards him. He inspired loyalty in his subjects.

"Your Grace, we've just passed Lemonwood, we're nearing the mouth of the Green Blood. But we've encountered a problem. There's an entire fleet encamped a few miles away from the town. They're sailing under the crowned stag of Storm's End," the captain of the ship urgently explained to King Will and Prince Markas.

"It looks like the Baratheon fleet has sailed South. The question becomes are they on our side?" Markas questioned.

"Markas notify Robert's son. He's leading our fleet in his father's absence. Tell him to send a ship to make contact with the Baratheons. I want him to go himself and find out what their purpose is." The King commanded.

*IMPORTANT to BARATHEON*
_____________________________________

*Joseph Tarly*

Joseph Tarly rode with his personal guard a mile north-west of his host. His rear guard had notified him that the Baratheon host had arrived. Tarly had been expecting them to arrive any day now. Robert Redwyne had sent a raven days ago informing him of their new allies. 

Once Joseph had learned of their reinforcements he had camped his host in the middle of the Prince's Pass. He had sent his outriders leagues ahead. Lord Tarly's host had not encountered any Dornish forces yet, but he would not be caught unawares if they chose to ambush them. 

He saw the first Baratheon banner. Joseph spurred his horse on faster. He wanted to meet the host's commander and get both hosts marching South as soon as possible. He stopped his horse 5 metres away from the lead soldier. In a commanding tone he told the soldier, "Bring me to this host's first-in-command. Lord Joseph Tarly is here to begin talking strategy."

*IMPORTANT to BARATHEON *


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## Terra Branford (Aug 9, 2011)

Men on deck above shouted "Ships! Ships!" and soon Dex arrived, heading to the bow of Wrath to see ships flying under the sigil of House Tyrell. A lone ship was making its way toward them, flying their banner high for their ships to see. 

One of the Wrath shipmates grabbed the hilt of his sword, an expression of concern placed upon his dark face. "Think they know we o' House Baratheon's fleet sent to help?" his voice was tired, covering up whatever doubt or fear the young lad had.

Dex rubbed thoughtfully at his chin and shrugged. "Might be they haven't gotten word of our alliance."

"What shall we do, m'lord?" he asked, staring off toward the fleet.

"When they arrive I will explain we are in an alliance." Dex explained as he took his eyes off their fleet and toward the young soldier.

"And if they attack?" 

Dex had no idea whether or not they would survive an attack. "Let's just hope it doesn't come to that." He turned and headed down to the cabins to inform Baros of the Tyrell arrival.

Prince's Pass​
"Lord Commander Searon, Lord Joseph Tarly of the Tyrell forces has arrived. He means to have counsel with you for strategy." a soldier clad in gold armor lined with black rims and dark black fur around the neck that dropped into a cape. The Baratheon sigil was painted over the front of his chest plate. 

An old man of light gray hair and grey eyes stood quickly. There was no sign of age in his movements as he donned his armor Baratheon armor -- imprinted with a large Stag and a smaller Owl -- and belted his long sword, which was called Justice, and hurried out of his temp pavilion.

Lord Searon bowed his head when he met up Joseph Tarly and then grabbed the hilt of his sword as he spoke out of habit. "I was beginning to think we had left Storm's End too late to catch up with the rest of the force. Shall we go discuss our strategy alone?"

=========​
Important to Tyrell and Martell.


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## The Imp (Aug 10, 2011)

*Julian Redwyne*

His Grace, the King in the Reach, had sent word of their envoy to the Baratheon fleet an hour earlier. Julian Redwyne would be leading this contigent to find out what the Baratheon's were up to. 

Once his lone ship was within shouting distance of the opposing fleet, Julian told his deckhands to stop the ship. Julian went to the bow and shouted across, "I am Julian Redwyne, son of Robert Redwyne. Who is in charge of your fleet and what is his business here?" 

Now he awaited their response and to see if they were friend or foe.
_____________________________________

*Joseph Tarly*

"Very well," Joseph Tarly nodded his head towards the makeshift pavilion signaling Lord Searon to lead the way. 

It was only a short distance away, but just from that short time together Joseph Tarly knew what type of man this Lord Searon was. He was old but experienced with war. He seemed very traditional, a creature of habit. Would he oppose Tarly's invasion strategy?

They entered the tent. It was empty save for a few personal possessions scattered here and there. They were left completely alone to discuss the war.

"We might as well start with sharing whatever info we have. My host numbers 10,000 men. Most of it is made up of infantry, we only have 500 mounted men. The mountain paths can be treacherous for riders. Most of them are outriders the rest are guarding our supply trains. We've seen a few Dornish scouts but have yet to see any enemy hosts. They may be sitting at Kingsgrave waiting to ambush us or they may not have taken the bait at all. Only time will tell. What is the status of your host?" Joseph Tarly earnestly asked.

*IMPORTANT to BARATHEON and MARTELL*


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## Terra Branford (Aug 10, 2011)

Baros Baratheon was standing directly behind His Lord Commander, his hand on his sword Durendal as Dex stood high and held a hand over his eyes to shade them from the sun as he spotted the ship and the man standing at the bow of his ship. "I am Dex Ilwyn and I am in charge of the fleet!" he shouted loudly. "We were sent by Caleb Baratheon to aid Will Tyrell in the march against Dorne! Another part of our men has marched off to meet at Prince's Pass!"

Prince's Pass​
Harren gestured at a map opened on a desk he had been sitting and and headed over, pressing his hands flat against the surface of the table as he spoke. "I have brought 10, 000 men and my Grace has sent another 10,000 south of Storm's End on ships to meet up with your Grace's fleet." he leaned away from the table. "My men are hard-trained; they will last under long odds and will not let you or your Grace down. I have brought 700 mounted men, but all my men are near equal when it comes to battle. Training under Storm's End breeds the best of men."

He took in the Dornish threat Joseph just mentioned and then turned to look at Lord Tarly face to face. "If they have an ambush set for us at Kingsgrave, they have a surprise coming. What are our plans?" he asked, calmly.

============​
Important to Tyrell and Martell'


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## The Imp (Aug 10, 2011)

*Julian Redwyne*

"This changes things greatly. Lord Commander Dex Ilyn bring your ship with all your advisers to the Tyrell fleet. Will Tyrell will want to hold a war council to decide our new strategy. The aid of Storm's End changes things greatly." Julian Redwyne declared while trying to hide the surprise in his voice.
____________________________________

*Joseph Tarly*

Joseph Tarly walked over to the table with the map. He saw a scrap piece of parchment and a quill. He began drawing the new formation of their combined host. "I will take 6,000 of my men and hold the centre. I'll give you the right and left, 4,000 on each side. You may choose to give command to whoever you deem worthy. My second in command, Bryndan Fossoway will lead our combined cavalry. Lord Beesbury will lead 2,000 of my men in the rearguard and protect our supply lines. I'll give you 500 of my best archers. I want you to create a special unit that can be deployed at your own discretion. We don't want to be shot at unawares from the hidden holds built into the mountains. The rest will be put in the reserves under Lord Caswell."

After Joseph Tarly drew out the formation, he gave the sheet to Lord Searon. As he pondered over the formation, Joseph Tarly continued,"As for our battle strategy... I have outriders riding many leagues out in pairs so we are not attacked without notice. I'm afraid there aren't many precautions we can take, this location leaves us confined with little breathing room. But I hope our host has drawn thousands of men to the Prince's Pass. My men are thirsty for blood and we want Sunspear at its weakest when our real attack is made. Do you have any questions?" 

*IMPORTANT to BARATHEON*


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## Terra Branford (Aug 10, 2011)

Dex Ilwyn had the ships brought to the Tyrell fleet and boarded the ship that held King Will Tyrell. Baros had complained about being left behind but with a quick growl of authority, the boy subsided and headed back to his cabin to boil in his anger and humiliation.

When his boots touched the wood of the deck, he gestured to Julian, his four guards scuttling about dully. He bowed his head quickly. "Lead the way to your Grace Lord Julian and some wine, if you have it." a sly smile spread across his face.

Prince's Pass​
Lord Commander Harren Saeron shook his head as he looked over the map a few more times. "No questions, but the hidden holds may be a problem. I hope your archers have keen eyes and quick reflexes, it will come down to that. Should the holds remain, we could suffer greatly." he shuffled the map around before he rolled it up quickly. "Should something befall me I have made my son  second in command. He's quick and cunning, so he would lead the archers well in my absence. So I will lead the archer unit if it comes down to the holds and I'll get them out of the way as swiftly as I can." Harren turned to Joseph Tarly.  "Before I lead the archers I will command the left and my son the right, and when I leave with the archers my son and his uncle shall led the left and right...if that sits well with you, Lord Tarly? Its the best I think should I fall or whilst I'm leading the archers."

=========​
Important to Tyrell and Martell


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## Serp (Aug 12, 2011)

Titiana Martell stood worrying through the halls of Sunspear.
"The forces are marching close, the scouts say they are at Planky town already." Titiana put her hands in her head. She was a good strong woman ey, but the war on her was unexpected. Yes the other kingdoms had issues with her father, but when she took over granted she did not hope it would end it, but merely allow them to notice it was not her fault. But then again to say that she had to admit her father had made an error, something she was not willing to do.

"Planky town being taken itself is nothing, I had sent the host to the princes pass to expect them from there, but alas I fear they are too far away."  Titiana spoke to the Sword of the morning, she found safety in veiwing Dawn on his hip, but could one sword protect her from an army.

"I  don't even know who it is, Tyrell to be sure, but also Baratheon and other minor houses have had their banners spotted. Dorne is run too thin to take a battle this close to the great hall of Sunspear. I have failed my people." 

"Aye indeed." A voice from the corner of the room spoke. 

Dawn was raised in defiance to the voice. 

"Is that the new sword of the morning, a whelp of a Dayne?" The voice asked again from another darkened area of the room.

"Show yourself... Donovan!" Titiana shouted.

A dark cloth fell from the ceiling and then it rose, arms removed the hood to reveal a man with tight curls and a single lick rolling down his face. "As you wish sweet sister."

"Donovan Martell. What do you want, was Braavos not to your liking?" Titiana's eyes narrowed. Donovan was her bastard brother, legitimated by her father a year ago, before that he was simply Donovan Sand, fickle and falling evermore just as sand. Donovan always seemed to like her, but Titiana knew otherwise, she was a Martell all cloak, and little dagger or all dagger and no cloak.

"On no, sweet sister I learned a great deal in Braavos and slept with a good deal of whores and married women too aye, but I returned to save you from your plight. Dornish law is flawed, women have no right to rule as you have shown here."

"Watch your tongue you may be a prince of Dorne now, but I am your king." 
Donovan sighed.

"Here have a peach." He said handing a peach over to his sister, she turned up her nose at it, knowing him it was most like poisoned.

"Very well, more for me." He took a bit into the peach and threw the rest at the Sword of the Morning. And he winked at him. Dayne then placed it in the waste bin. "So Planky town is under attack, pitty that."

"Yes and our forces are at the Princes pass, I heard thats were the attack is coming from and yet no more word from them. I believe we are lost in this battle."

"Ah, the forces are not at Princes pass, two thousand hang their spears but in the shadow of Sunspear."

"What why are they there."

"I ordered it."

"I am King, you are a Bastard!" 

"Aye this may be true, for now. Bastards are born from lies and deceit. And it is now I ask you for your crown rather than your life."

"TREASON!" Titiana shouted. "Dayne Protect me!" 

The sword of the morning raised his great sword Dawn and jumped for the strike, Donovan produced a spear almost from nothing and struck the young swordsman in his side. He fell the floor in pain.

"The blade is poisoned?!" He screamed out.

"Seven No! The peach was." Donovan smiled. 

"But but but but...." Dayne started to sputter. 

"Yours in not to reason why." Donovan said now in a calm cool voice. Turning to his sister "Titiana give me your crown now, before I rape you half a score until you beg me to take the crown." 

Titiana was scared now. Would Donovan rape her and then kill her. "You are a bastard to the soul." She said as she removed her crown. 

Donovan snatched it up. "Aye, so its been told. Now a ship leaving from the bay is to take you to Pentos, you will dress as a Septa and pray to the high seven you are not found out, because I don't know what I would do if something happened to my sister."

----

"My King"  The current commander of the team knelt before Donovan. 
"Yes, bring the rest of the men from hiding, they are but a half a days march from here in but a ragged camp."

"And what shall we do? Send them to Planky town?" 

"Send a select few to Planky town, 5 centuries say. And place this in their drink and food first." Donovan pulled out a dark vial and handed it to the captain. 

"And the rest?" 

"Raven them to make movements now to return to Sunspear and use all their force to defend my castle. And when the arrive there is a barrel of another liquid I gained in Braavos, make sure it falls into each mans even your owns meal before the battle."

"What tricks are you using? And what about the rest of Dorne?"

"Protect Sunspear that is your order." 

"My kin..."

"PROTECT SUNSPEAR! Or see your life fail you as I pull out your eyes and make you watch as I torture your body."

The commander shut up, he daren't even mention that he wouldn't be able to see if his eyes were removed but deep down he thought Donovan may have a way.
*
TYRELL, BARATHEON*
------------------

Tynim was beside himself with confusion, but in the end he had to say this.

_"His Lord Robert,
After a long think, I have decided I cannot grant you any of my ancestral lands nor earnings of their lands now or in the future. I know your king would feel the same about granting the assests of the Reach and Highgarden. The West see you as a valuable friends and thank you for your offer in this war, but for once the price is too steep for the Lannisters. If we make it through these coming battles, I will still gracefully take Lily Tyrell to wed as a joining of our two houses.

Tynim Lannister,
The Golden King."_ 

Tynim then started his other letter.
_
"Ser Marcus,
The West thank you for the aid of 15 thousand swords the Vale had sent our way. If your brothers words are true and you are joining the host of the 15 thousand men, I offer you a place to rest and stay during your time in the north, Stay at the Rock and share my bread and salt. If not and you have decided not to follow through know that the Rock will always welcome you, even if we have war or battle as long as I remain golden king you can enter, sleep and eat and leave Casterly rock unharmed and feeing better than when you came. 

The west has gold yes, but we have a golden Kraken on our heels, and weeds trying to wrestle the rest of our strength away. In the thought of an Alliance, Tyra Lannister will be your brothers to marry, I will send her with a Dowry worth of a Lannister as well, 1 million golden dragons.

I look forward to your reply.

Tynim Lannister._

*Tyrell* and *Arryn*


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## The Imp (Aug 12, 2011)

*Will Tyrell*

Julian Redwyne walked into the meeting hall, following him was an elderly man dressed in a uniform with bodyguards behind him.

"Welcome, welcome, Lord Dex Ilwyn. Take a seat. Have some of our wine, it's some of the Arbor's finest vintages. Your guards can wait outside." King Tyrell said cheerfully. 

Dex's guards left the Lords to their war council and stepped out of the room, accompanied by Will Tyrells own personal guard. Sitting at the round table were an assortment of the most powerful lords in the Reach. There was King Will Tyrell with Prince Markas, as well as Lord Rowan, Lord Hightower and Lord Florent. Dex Ilwyn and Julian Redwyne took the two empty seats close to the exit.

Lord Florent coughed and then spoke up, "Ser Julian told us that the Baratheons have allied themselves to the Reach." Lord Hightower's followed, "This is the first any of us have heard of this."

"Lord Ilwyn, I left my friend and hand, Robert Redwyne, to lead in my absence. He always was good at diplomacy and I'm sure he brokered this alliance. This has his name written all over it." The King stated with a smirk on his face. 

Ser Julian Redwyne asked the question on everybody's mind, "What are the exact details of your mission here and what did my father promise Caleb Baratheon to gain his aid?"

Everybody turned to face Dex Ilwyn, intently waiting for his response and answers.

*IMPORTANT for BARATHEON*


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## Coteaz (Aug 12, 2011)

*The King in the Vale*

*The Knight of the Vale*​
Ser Marcus Arryn scratched his chin as he read the Lannister king?s letter. The Eastern host had reached Riverrun not two days earlier before the black raven winged its way back with the West?s answer. For once, its tidings were good. 

_A formal alliance with the West and a fair bride for my brother. I like this raven._ The heir to the Vale snapped his fingers and sent pages scurrying from the solar in search of his lieutenants. First to arrive was Lord Rykker of Duskendale, commander of the five thousand Crownlands men in the host. Second was Lord Mallister of Seaguard, returning to his lands to oversee the coastal defense. Lastly, Ser Jeryn Templeton, dark and handsome, swaggered through the door. 

Marcus cleared his throat. ?I have here a letter from the Gold King. Tynim Lannister will marry his sister Tyra to King Matthis, securing our alliance, and our host shall aid them against the krakens.? 

?Oh? Here I thought we were going to safeguard _our_ lands, ser. This is?a change.? Jeryn Templeton, the Knight of Ninestars, let a little smirk flash across his face.

?You are correct, Ser Jeryn. I still intend to do so.? Marcus nodded at the two lords. ?Lords Rykker and Mallister will take four thousand men to our coast and secure it. The Greyjoys have their eyes set on the Westerlands but we cannot be lax.? 

?And what of me, ser?? The Knight of Ninestars? eyes twinkled. He knew what was coming.

?You have Riverrun with one thousand men as garrison. I will take my ten thousand Vale swords into the Westerlands and fight off the krakens alongside the Lannisters. Messengers have been sent to tell of our coming. Maintain order until I return.? Marcus glanced at his lucky raven as the men left. If the gods were good, his brother would accept the terms of alliance. Now, to write that letter?

..........................................................
*Several Days Later, King?s Landing*

King Matthis sat under his great pavilion amidst the ruins of the Red Keep. Workers had cleared most of the rubble and now a makeshift headquarters had been erected to house the leaders of the Arryn kingdom. The Iron Throne, half-melted in the fire, lay dejected and unused. 

_So, my brother has set up an alliance with the Lannisters. How unusually clever of him._ Marriage was not something Matthis desired, but, as wise men say?_No power comes without sacrifice._ 

Twenty-three thousand Arryn men-at-arms camped in and around the great city of King?s Landing. Riots had become more frequent in the weeks since the terrible battle and rumors whispered of an organized rebellion, a Rat inciting the lowborn against their rightful masters. The King of the East intended to kill this rat.

_To Tynim Lannister, Gold King of the West

My brother, Ser Marcus, has informed me that he has worked terms for a permanent alliance of our houses. I welcome this with open arms. Your fair sister Tyra shall make a majestic Queen of the East and our children will have the splendor of the Sun and the radiance of the Moon. 

Marcus is moving with ten thousand men to reinforce your troops in their fight against the Greyjoys. By the time this letter reaches you, he will already be dining with you in Casterly Rock. 

I propose to hold the ceremony in great Riverrun, the center of East and West that you generously ceded to me. I will march with my host in two weeks time. After our houses are joined we shall deal with the grey menace as one. 

Matthis Arryn, King of the East_

Matthis passed the letter to Maester Kratz and rose. The king?s squires rushed to adorn him in his splendid battle gear ? supple leather that caressed his flawless white skin, gleaming bronze plate inscribed with ancient runes of warding, and a luxurious cloth-of-silver cloak that billowed majestically as the King of the East strode out to meet his army. 

Lord Waynwood snapped a crisp salute and Robar Royce, marshal of the host, gave a stiff bow. Matthis nodded to them as he stood atop Aegon?s High Hill, his personal guard arrayed before him. The plains surrounding the city buzzed with movement as the Arryn host marched through the gates. City residents peered out from charred houses at the ranks of mailed men, trembling with fear. 

Matthis broke into a feral grin at the sight. His hand rose, a signal. 

*?Let the purge begin.?*

*Lannister, Greyjoy, Plague*


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## Cursed panda (Aug 13, 2011)

*Castle Black-*

Within five hours Bones and his squad of fifty and all one hundred and fifty Death Ravens stood at the base of the wall alone with five thousand more men from all over the wall that James suddenly requested three and hour after his first request. Commander and lord of the wall stood on the wall itself and looked over his men, Ian stood by his side in question of on his commander?s actions he had been taking a more passive roll in this war up until this point. Now however he had an army before him which meant being passive was over.

?Ahem!? Kavez shouted over the crowd. The quickly quieted down and stared at their leader. ?Before today I was trying to take a non-active part of this war.? He paused ?However! Today I am going to start taking action and begin doing what I planned on doing from the start, liberating the country.? Kavez paused once again and turned around looking out beyond the wall, he turned back suddenly and faced the Death Ravens who had been standing to the left of him. ?Lets start with you.?

?Ravens! I have a job for you and no matter how hard it is for me to say this.? Another pause ?I need you to venture into the north in search of a tribe of giants.? Talking broke out quietly in the crowd with whispers of confirmation between one another. ?I'll keep this short, the plan is as follows, you are to go to the north searching for a tribe of giants. Once found you must give them some sort of peace offering, be it a mammoth you hunted down or some other item of the north give them an offering and request a meeting with the chief.? The crowd broke out in even more talking.

?Tell him they can have the wall after they help us win this war.? At this point the crowd broke out in pure chaos, lots of moving talking and gasping. No one was sure what had gotten into their leader. ?Good, I hope you understand. Now then Ian take the Death Raven's somewhere private and prepare them for their mission.? Ian nodded in approval and confusion and then beckoned for the Death Ravens to follow him to the left farther up the wall.

?Next, Bones. Bones your squad is to go to the East-Watch by the Sea and take a boat that I have arranged for you. Take the boat down to Dragon Stone, once there I want you to help the people in anyway possible and tell them that they are now under protection of the wall as a free nation of their own.? The crowd once again exploded into talking and movement. ?You may leave now, once you arrive you will be told more and given supplies and your boat.

?Now then for the rest of you, I have called you for the main mission, liberation. Liberation of this country and now is the time to do it!? Kavez pulled his hood down more and then stood up taller on the wall. ?While we sat in wait the Riverlands have been divided up by three countries all of their leaders have begun not to call themselves by their names. No, they have decided that they are now the king's of the north, east, and west. Meanwhile the south is killing each other to decide who shall be the king of the south!? 

Kavez stopped and started pacing back and forth the crowd watching his every movement and wondering what he would say next. After about a minute began speaking again, this time his voice seemed to have a new found confidence. ?One in particular has interest me. The ?King of the North? or the Starks as all of you know them as. They seem to have forgotten us, and everything beyond.? Kavez smiled under his hood. ?Lets make them remember!? His voice boomed and the crowd began to cheer, this was the leader they knew a passionate freedom fighter. ?We shall march into the Stark's lands! Make them remember the real north! We shall begin at the Last Hearth, marching in and liberating them from their king's rule! Set them free under the protection of the north!? The crowd cheered again. ?We march in an hour!?

_The Lord of The Wall had begun his conquest._

Important to Dragonstone, and the Starks.


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## Terra Branford (Aug 13, 2011)

Dex took a sip his mug of Arbor wine before he shifted in his seat and then locked his hands together as he spoke. "My Grace left me with strict command to follow _your_ plans; he only told me we would make for Sunspear to conquer it after the hosts meet together -- which would be the wisest choice I must say. But I am here to lead under your plans as long as the promises given to my King are kept." he unlocked his hands and took a note out of his pockets and read what he had scribbled down earlier aloud.

"Robert Redwyne, Hand of the King, promised my Grace wealth and land. He also promised King Will's eldest son's hand to my Grace Caleb Baratheon's eldest daughter which would make her Queen of the Reach one day and an alliance of the South..." he paused for the slightest moment. "...And blood to hatch the Baratheon dragon egg." he finished, glancing about the faces around the tables.

========​
Important to Tyrell


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## The Imp (Aug 13, 2011)

*Will Tyrell*

"Dragon eggs!?" the council collectively gasped. "We all knew that 3 eggs were left in Westeros, but to think Caleb Baratheon possessed one! And what is this blood needed to hatch the egg?" Lord Rowan earnestly questioned.

"King's Blood," Lord Hightower solemnly stated. "My maesters in Oldtown have ancient tomes stating that one requires King's Blood and fire to hatch dragons. I can only guess that Robert has promised the Storm King the blood of Titania Martell in exchange for his army."

The other lords sat quietly in deep thought. They could only imagine the havoc a fully grown dragon could unleash on this continent. Suddenly Prince Markas slammed his hand on the table and began spouting angry questions, "By what right does Robert Redwyne propose my hand in marriage without my consent? I don't even know the girl?"

"Sit down and be quiet Markas!" Will Tyrell commanded. "I have given Robert that authority as my Hand. I left him in Highgarden to rule. You may not like it but that does not change the fact, and Will Tyrell never breaks his word. You will marry the girl once this war is done and you will be happy. Your own mother was a Baratheon and our marriage was arranged, and together we lived happily for over 25 years."

Prince Markas whishpered one word, "yes". The discontent was written all over his face, but he was a Prince of Highgarden and he knew his duty came first.

"Very well, now that we've got this out of the way, it's time to talk strategy." said Lord Florent. "We should quickly dispatch our forces into Plankytown and capture it. We'll establish it as our base of our operations. It is a day's march to Sunspear from there. How soon can we get our men onto the land?" Lord Florent turned to face Ser Julian Redwyne.

"Combined we have a force of 30,000 men. If we begin the operation within the hour we can have everybody in Plankytown by daybreak. However I wouldn't advise this decision. The port is small and it will take many hours to move an army this size. I would recommend sending a smaller group to take the town in the middle of the night."

"Yes, your right. I wanted to lead the attack myself, but our situation has changed. Lord Dex Ilwyn it's time for you to prove yourself. Take your 10,000 men and capture the town as soon as possible." King Will Tyrell declared.

*IMPORTANT to BARATHEON*


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## Terra Branford (Aug 13, 2011)

Dex had not anticipated the Prince's reaction to his marriage and thought for a moment he would refuse the marriage, but when his father spoke it was the end of it. Instead Dex glanced over at Prince Markas. "Princess Lemsia is a fine young lady, she will not disappoint you Prince Markas." he promised, and then he turned his eyes to King Will. He didn't think 10,000 men would be able to conquer Planky Town on its own, but his Grace had put Dex Ilwyn under King Will Tryrell command, and so he would hold his tongue on the matter...a bit.

"Though I believe we should wait for the hosts in Prince's Pass to arrive, I will head out tonight with my men as swift as possible, your Grace." he bowed his head and then continued. "There is also the matter of my death, should it happen. Roan Arnrel, a man of great skill, will lead if I fall in Planky Town." once said, Dex leaned back in his seat. "If all has been said, let us end the meeting so I may prepare my leave."

=========​
Important to Tyrell and Martell


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## The Imp (Aug 13, 2011)

*Will Tyrell*

"Yes, this council is over. Prepare your men for battle within the hour. We await the news of your victory." Will Tryell said. He then got up and left the room. The other lords followed leaving Dex Ilwyn to make his preparations.


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## Serp (Aug 13, 2011)

Dragonstone was a bustling place, since the reveal more and more people had flooded across to the small island fortress. Carpenters, builders, smiths, tailors and all ranges of smallfolk who had lost most or all of their lively hood in the attack on Kings Landing. Kings Landing was under Arryn rule now, but Dragonstone was Dragonstone once again. 

Mormont had promised Dragonstone to the Baratheons if they helped, he had no idea if they still wished to claim it, or if the Arryns declared Dragonstone as one of their conquests. Regardless Dragonstone worked in the day and not a fire was lit in the dark above the cellars as if to give away their postion, with a shine of light cutting through the darkness.  

The best thing about having tailors and merchants from Kings landing as well as the Gold Cloaks was that with its current group of nearing a thousand people, was that Dragonstone was filled with men and women that could work. 

The tailors, had worked hard and produced a new set of robes for Mormont. Green of the finest silk, with a mighty black bear sewn into it. But Serion had the best of it all, his clothes now consisted of Black silk, red trimmings and a silver outline of a dragon across the front of his clothes. When his grandfather had taken to Valyria they had changed their motto and Sigil from the 3 headed red dragon on black, to a single Black dragon trimmed in silver on a black background. The motto came later when they started to breed with the darker people of Essos, Black blood and Black fire. Serion was thrown into this, as the first Targ to return since the fall he was the heir to the iron throne, heir to dragonstone and the rest of the 7 kingdoms. His new sigil designed by the merchants consisted of a three headed dragon, two heads of deepest red, but the centre dragon all in silver and black bands of colour. The field behind it was black, with a red river of blood diagonal across the field, representing the Narrow sea and the connection Serion had to Essos and Westeros. 

The smiths had recrafted a suit of Targaryen armour for Serion to wear, it shone in polished black and silver, even Ghisgar had supple leather reins, crafted beautifully. Serion had been a prince in Essos but here he was a king. And that day it was proven.

Word of Dragonstone had made its way across the narrow sea, Mormont had sent men across to gain men, sellswords or noble knights if the seven were favourable. Today a man from Pentos had come to speak to the boy king.

"Your Grace Serion Targaryen, it is a pleasure to meet you." 

Serion looked down at this man and smiled. "You may rise, I am hardly a king, I have no lands apart from a rock in the sea, and no knights save a few gold clad men, I am merely a guest of honour much like yourself."

The man rose. "This one is called Curs Nico Teaz, called the Imp of Pentos, Braavos, Quarth and the free Cities. This one even has some blood of the Dragon if you go back far enough." 

"Welcome Curs Nico Teaz, how may we help you?

"No no no my lord the help is mine to give. We believe you are the one, the books speak of a prince that would come. We thought it was another, a dornish man, but we believe it to be you now we offer our help."

"Hmm tell me of this Dornishman."

"Yes your grace. The Prophecy stated that the one we seeked would have a powerful sister. But that fact could have been only created in translations, it could easily mean that he would share blood or bond with a powerful woman, be it his mother or even that his daughters would be as great as he. But the Dornishman had a sister as a king, a twisting of the words already. He was found dying in the streets, stabbed brutally his blood making rivers down the streets, another omen of the prophecy. We healed him and taught him how to empower things with magics, he learned fast and used them on his potions and poisons. Buy the time we realised he might not be the one, he had fled. But we think the words refer to you, even your sigil shows the river of blood."

Serion was thinking. He switched his tongue to High Valyrian so that less people could understand his words. 
"Growing up in Essos, I have learned the power of magics first hand, and even more so the power of blood magic. You taught the ways of blood magic to a man you pressumed would be a what, what is this chosen man meant to do."

"Your grace, the chosen one is said to unite the world under his foot and flame.  But our mistake could be our downfall we are here to offer our help."

"And how would you do that?" 

Curs Nico Teaz switched back to the common tongue, "Words are wind, it is actions that make things happen, you will be our champion, kill the Dornishman and keep our secrets secret, unite the world if it is your wish. Vow to help us with the Dornishman and we will keep you feed. But a Raven to your father, explaining the situation and a Raven back from him with promise of payment and the golden company will be yours for your battle. As well as an army of unsullied from your Father to back your claim."

"You would give me an army on the words of my Father?"

"Your father is a king, and we are helping to make another one, not even two kings would dare betray the free cities. The golden company for now, is a small price to pay, until your army comes from Valyria and the lands of the Harpy to aid you. Plus if you are the chosen one, then this is nothing."

"Hmm, I guess and all you want for this is for us to kill this Dornishman?"

"Well of course we will be charging a fee to secure the golden company and keep our mouths quiet, but this Dornishman is no normal foe, he has been annointed in the temple of the Sorrowful men. Fought in the battle pits of Yunikai and drank the poison of viper as if it were ale."

"So he is scary."

"No he is a storm, a storm of darkness, a dark star in human form. Whether he is the chosen one or not, we cannot allow him to win, he cares nothing for the world only for himself."

"Tell me the name of this man and I swear he will have to face me before he can claim any power over Westeros nevermind the world."

"Donovan Martell."

"Aye, Curs Nico Teaz, I swear this a loan of gold for the aid of the golden company to be paid for by my father or incase he cannot deliver me on the reclaiming of the throne. I swear this your aid and council as well as help will be well used against the Dornishman. I swear this to you as Serion Targaryen."

Curs Nico teaz nodded. " Then my lord, you need to be a real king." He clicked his fingers and a slave walked forward with a box in his hand. The slave opened it as Curs waved his hand. A crown made of what seemed like a multitude of metals and elements was presented. 

"A crown, made from the blackest metals of the earth, and the whitest stones of the mountains. A gift to seal this deal, we shall buy you the golden company and contact your father and aid you with your issues until your army comes from home, and you will pay us back when the time comes and kill the Dornishman."

Serion placed the crown on his head. "Aye, King Serion of Dragonstone swears to it."

"Excellent, the Golden company are already on their way as is the Raven to your father." Curs Nico Teaz smiled.

*Everyone*


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## Cursed panda (Aug 14, 2011)

*Castle Black thirty minutes before mobilization-*

Kavez had been standing in the same spot on the wall since his speech, looking out into the north beyond. Ian slowly approached from the left of him, with a blade in his hand. Kavez turned and looked at his assistant and then at the sword. 

“What have you brought me Ian?” Kavez voice was quiet and calm, much different from his normal tone, Ian was a bit taken back and started to stutter, “Uh. Si-.. Uh.. Ahem, I brought you something for your battle.” Ian got on this knees and presented the sword to his Commander. “I present to you Nightsworn, a Valyrian blade.” Kavez examined the weapon, taking it out of it
s sheath and examining the steel. 

“Impressive, where did this come from?” 

“I dug it up from the storage room, it hasn't been used in years.” Ian stood as he talked and then watched as his commander went back to leaning on the wall facing the beyond. 

“Ian I have some things to tell you before I leave for war.” Kavez didn't turn and look at his company instead he fastened the blade to his belt and stared out into the beyond. “First off I would like to say that while I go to war you are to be in charge of the wall.” Ian's face had a slight hint of astonishment on it.

“Me sir? Aren't others more well sui-” 

“No it shall be you and only you.” Kavez paused and then began again. “You have three tasks to do when I am away. First, I need you to inform me of anything happening with the Death Ravens or Bones” Kavez turned back finally to Ian who nodded in agreement. “Secondly, I need you at this time tomorrow to have ten thousand more troops prepared for war. I need you to send those troops directly to The Last Heath. Understand?” 

“Yes sir.”

“Good, now then your last task is that you are to immediately send boats full of one thousand five hundred men total down to the Stony Shore. Do you understand all that?” 

“Yes sir.” Ian ran off to the rookery and sent a Raven to Shadow Tower with the last order.

Important to Stark


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## Terra Branford (Aug 14, 2011)

Shore of Planky Town, South.​
Dex decided to leave Prince Baros Baratheon behind until they made for Sunspear when he swiftly made his plans, and then he gathered his 10, 000 eager soldiers and united them under the banner of House Baratheon and Ilwyn, and sailed to the south shore of Planky Town.

Under the gloom of the night clouds and guided by the gentle moonlight, they landed at the south of Planky Town.  Commander Ilwyn sent three scouts ahead to look for wider streets and positions of enemies. They tightened their armor one last time and headed north, slowly and cautiously. When the scouts were spotted once more, they were tired and panting. "Did you see anyone?" Dex asked, a little uneasy.

"A...group," the one in black and gold replied, out of breath. "Northwest, near the docks." when Dex asked the last two, they reported more groups up north and east of Planky Town. 

"And the smallest?"

"The ones by the docks, m'lord." the black and gold scout answered. "About fifteen or twenty, maybe." Lord Ilwyn nodded and turned to his men.

"Alright men, split up." Dex split his 10, 000 into three groups of 700 hundred and would send one east, west and then the last north to. He had his last remaining men head to back to the southern part of Planky Town and protect the ships and pull up a pavilion for him. 

As the three smaller hosts prepared, Dex found his second in command, Roan Arnrel, donning his armor and helm, a helm with stag horns. "Sir Arnrel," the man was a bit older than Dex and had light hair and light eyes. He has a short, broad body and a face hidden under a thick beard. A long, well smithed sword hung at his hip and a long, black cape with the sigil of House Baratheon on his back. "You will be leading the three hosts; I want you to clear out as much as you can. If need be, I will send out more men. I must stay close to the Prince and the fleets...Do you understand?" 

"As you wish, Commander." he bowed his head. "You serve the Prince and I'll serve you by giving you the defeat of Planky Town for King Caleb and King Will." once more he bowed before he turned on heel and then pushed his way through the black flaps of the tent.

Eastern Planky Town, First strike​
"Commander Roan," a scout arrived back to their safe point. "100 men ahead, around the three buildings. They are resting by a smithy shop."

_100 men?_  Roan frowned. _Why so little?_ It was the fourth scout that came back with the reports of small units scattered about. Why was Planky Town so undefended? "Alright, how many archers do they?" the scout replied with a 'fifteen'. "Prepare twenty archers and 100 men, we move out in five."

His band was ready by the time he marched to the end of the line of two thousand hundred men. The archers pulled tunics over their heavy armor, to avoid detection, and had filled their quivers as much as it could hold with tearing the sides and ends. The soldiers sharpened their swords and polished them to a fine point and brilliant glitter and moved out.

He had the archers position themselves behind barrels, emptied carts that had been tossed on their sides and on balconies, aiming at the group of Dornish soldiers. Their first targets were the archers, and with a swift hand motion from Roan, a small storm of red feather arrows swarmed down from the sky and killed half of the archers, the other arrows either missing or piercing the sword-wielding soldiers.

Some of the Dorne men laid in the dirt, crying in pain or squirming around until they finally died from the arrows pierced in their necks or upper chests. The remain men and their archers turned and attacked. Roan waved another motion and this time the balcony archers released another wave of arrows that took down the last of the Dorne archers and more of the soldiers. Another motion and the first wave of spear-men chucked their spears. One of the spears thrown shoved through the breast of one man and through the man directly behind him, pinning them to the ground and leaving a pool of blood underneath them. When the sword-wielders entered the battle, they quickly dispatched the rest of the men. The smithy shop was searched as well as the nearest alleys and houses, and then the Baratheon soldiers rounded up before Roan. "How many men did we lose?" he asked a tall man clad in light armor with a sigil of a smaller House on his chest. 

He frowned. "Thirty men, three of them were alive moments ago...they passed away."

"Seven Hells," Roan growled, closing his eyes. "We'll gather their bodies after we take the city--"

"But sir, wild dogs--"

"We cannot afford to stand around dragging bodies in enemy territory!" he barked. "I'll send a scout back to Commander Ilwyn requesting a party of twenty then, to burn them. We cannot lose time burying them. Now gather the men and let's move on, we need to win this city by morning!" the man just stood there, staring at the bodies of the Dornish and their own men. "I said...now!" and then he hurried off to gather the men.

=============​
Important to Martell and Tyrell


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## Terra Branford (Aug 16, 2011)

Shore of Planky Town; Base​
"Commander Iwyn" a man came in, his hand on the hilt of his sword. "A scout has been spouted heading back. Should we prepare to move out?"

"No, no," Dex muttered, standing. "Send a man out and ask him what he needs." the man left and an hour later, arrived once more, this time his face a little more serious than before. "Well?" he asked, impatient.

"Thirty of our men died. The survivors want their bodies burned, so the dogs cannot eat at their bodies. Lord Arnrel wishes for twenty men to the spot to drag their bodies in piles to burn."

Dex sighed and sat down. Thirty men...I suppose that is thirty is better than three hundred or three thousand. He rubbed at his neck before he looked up at the men. "Send him his men," he reached for an empty cup and filled it with fresh water. "Send the spear-men, they have more strength and will get the job done quickly. Make sure they join Commander Arnrel's ranks afterward." the young man nodded and ran off. With a sip of his water, Dex shook his head. _Let no more good men die today..._

Northern Planky Town; second assault​
They found the small band of twenty men by the western shore docks, coughing into their hands and talking about their favorite wine and whores in Planky Town. Four men were lying on the ground, sleeping it seemed, and five others were sitting on barrels, their eyes dropping with fatigued.  Most of them hand blankets over their shoulders; old, gray, hole filled blankets that were too short to properly warm them.

Commander Roan used their lack of concern and caution to use his skilled archers. It was a quick death for the men, especially those asleep and a swift end to their second assault of the day. 

When they turned to head north, they saw the scout. Roan pulled him to the side. "What did the Lord say?"

"He granted you twenty spearsmen. He said their strength would take care of the task quickly. He also said he gave them command to join up with you and join your ranks. He wants us to keep the north under watch, to spot any more enemies that might come."

"When shall we expect them?"

"When I left, they had just began to leave. There were thirty men of ours and more of the Dornish. I'm not sure when they will be done, but they brought the carts with them to pull the bodies..."

"It shouldn't be long then," he whispered. "Alright, tell the men we move out at once. There is an even larger host up north and I promised Commander Ilwyn the city would be conquered by sunrise and we're nearly out of time."

"Yes, M'lord." he ran off, shouting orders.
Western Planky Town; final assault ​
It was nearly three hours after their last skirmish when they could see the jet black column in the sky, far outside the city. Commander Roan paused for a moment to stare at the smoke before he turned back to his men. "Alright men," he saw them staring, with blank faces. "There is a group of three hundred eighty men ahead and six hundred ten of you...this will be a short battle, but I want the casualties as small as possible. Seven Hells, I don't want any casualties! But that is impossible I'm afraid." 

He stood before them. "You serve King Caleb Baratheon and will serve his son after him. You are men trained at Storm's End; you are strong, powerful stubborn, smart and you know what's right. Do not fail your King...to do not fail your prince and do not fail your House." he shifted on his feet before he walked ahead of them. "Let's move out...once this bloody battle is over, we'll drink and celebrate!" the men cheered, throwing their gloved hands into the air, shouting their King and their House's names.

By dawn, the last of the Dornish men were defeated and the casulties of the last six hundred men under Roan was forty more men -- sword-wielders --, most of which died by arrow or spear. The spearsmen promised arrived a bit later into the battle and provided the assistance that kept the casualties short. And when the sun fully rose, they headed for the northern tip of the city and took the gates.

"Get me a Raven," Commander Roan Arnrel ordered a scout following him around. "And make sure its the fastest. If I'm to stay here with the men, I don't want any running off. We may or may not have destroyed the last host in Dorne and I will not stand for more casualties. Make it quick boy!"

========​
Important to Martell and Tyrell


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## The Imp (Aug 16, 2011)

*Will Tyrell*

Prince Markas walked into the King's quarters. In his hand he carried a message, likely from Lord commander Dex Ilwyn.

"Father, we've gotten word from Lord Ilwyn. He's captured the city with minimal losses." Prince Markas said smiling.

"Haha, we're one step closer to killing those filthy Martells. Go tell Ser Redwyne. Our fleet will head to the port and our host will finally step on dry land after weeks of sailing." Will Tyrell ordered.
___________________________

*Joseph Tarly*

_What's going on? Why have we encountered no enemy soldiers? We've made it too Kingsgrave and there is only a token garrison to defend it. The Dornish haven't taken our bait._

Joseph Tarly quickly wrote a message to send back to Highgarden. Robert Redwyne would not like this at all. Their gamble had been for naught. He gave the note to his squire, telling him to give it a maester and send it to Highgarden. He then told him to contact his generals and the Baratheon leaders for an emergency war council.

The Lords began trickling into his tent one by one. In an hour's time everyone had arrived. "Good Lords of the Reach and Stormlands, the Prince's Pass has been left undefended. Right now we are walking into enemy territory almost completely blind. First we must capture Kingsgrave. Inside there we will learn what has happened to the Dornish host and where they currently are. We cannot make any long term plans before we accomplish this. I'd estimate they have up to 100 men defending their walls. Make your preparations. We storm those walls in an hour. Dismissed." 

*IMPORTANT to BARATHEON and MARTELL*


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## Coteaz (Aug 17, 2011)

*The King in the Vale*

*King?s Landing*

The purge of King?s Landing was an exercise of brutal simplicity. Informants, paid handsomely by Galbart Grafton out of his rich Gulltown purse, had identified Flea Bottom and the River Row as the centers of insurrection. A shadowy figure known only as the Rat had incited their residents, the poorest and hardest-hit by the invasion and fiery destruction. Lured by promises of freedom, a motley army took to the streets to fight back against the cruel talons of the Falcon.

They had hope. They clutched their makeshift weapons with pride. They were fishermen and beggars against mailed knights. 

Rohn Royce broke the first mob of fishermen with a heavy charge of shining knights of the Vale. The rebels fled from Fishmonger?s Square back into River Row, pursued by columns of Vale men-at-arms. Every door was broken, every family put to the sword. No quarter was given. 

Flea Bottom, already devastated by the fires of the invasion, burned once more as ten thousand Riverlands levies and their lords put the shanty town to the torch. The raggedy inhabitants fought tooth and nail, but how could sharpened sticks and rusty knives compare to steel and iron? 

As a third of their city died, the inhabitants of the other quarters looked on with surprise and relief as men of the Crownlands, their neighbors and brothers, marched into their districts to distribute food and medicine. Families who had starved the night before could now feast for weeks. Men muttered thanks as they praised the Seven for giving them the sense to ignore the treasonous ranting of the Rat. 

The message was clear: serve and be rewarded. Betray and die.


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## The Imp (Aug 20, 2011)

*Joseph Tarly*

Joseph Tarly rode his steed towards the gate. He stopped just outside of shooting range and began shouting at the guardsmen on the castle battlements, "This host numbers 20,000 men. You defend this castle with only a handful. Surrender now or we will charge this castle and put you all to the sword!"

In response, one of the enemy soldiers fired an arrow at Lord Joseph Tarly. It was 15 feet short. Lord Tarly swiftly rode back to the front lines shaking his head in disappointment. 

Lord Tarly began shouting out orders, "Archers aim at the top of the battlements. Fire at command. Squads 1, 2 and 3 will carry the battering ram to the gate and proceed to smash open the gates. The rest of the 1st and 2nd battalions will cover you from the sides, front and top while our archers keep the enemy pre-occupied. Men, kill every armed man without hesitation. Leave the women and children."

Lord Tarly signalled Lord Searon to let loose the first volley of arrows. An instant later, 1000 arrows were flying towards the battlements. The infantry charged the gate. The enemy soldiers were falling like flies. The ones who survived were next to useless in stopping the battering ram. 

Ten minutes later, the gates came crashing open. Joseph Tarly's host charged into the castle and began cutting down any man with a sword in his hand. Only minutes later the battle ended. It was a complete massacre. Nearly 50 men sworn to Kingsgrave were lying dead with their throats cut, guts torn out, skulls smashed or full of arrows.

Lord Joseph Tarly marched into the Great Hall with 100 of his own men. Inside, the women and children were huddled in groups scared witless. A few boys charged Joseph Tarly as their mothers screamed out to them telling them to stop. Tarly's men batted the children out of the way. At the end of the hall, near Lord Manwoody's seat sat a young women with a boy and girl no older than 8. This could only be Lady Manwoody and her children. 

Lord Joseph Tarly told her he wished a word in private. The Lady spat in his face. Lord Tarly wiped his face, looked at one of his guards and said, "Take the boy and girl for a walk outside. I want a word with their mother." 

Lady Manwoody's face changed from anger to fear. She cried out, "No! Not my children! They've done nothing wrong, don't take them away from me, you monster!"

The soldiers took the children by the scruff of their necks and escorted them out. Another guard grabbed Lady Manwoody and they began marching towards the Lord's solar. Once there, Lord Tarly told them to wait outside the chamber while he spoke with the lady.

"Where is your husband and his men? Where has Martell sent them and why has she left the Prince's Pass defenseless? Answer me truthfully and I will return you children to you safely and treat you all as high class prisoners with every comfort. Lie to me and your children will meet the same fate as your men outside." Lord Tarly stated coldly.

"Titania Martell is no longer in power. Her brother Donovan has taken her seat as the King of Dorne. The Dornish host sits outside of Sunspear's walls. If your looking for a battle you won't find it here." The Lady said scornfully.

Lord Joseph Tarly tried to hide the surprise on his face. He turned around and walked out of the room. He told his men to return her children to her. He began walking outside of the keep towards the camp of commanders.

Thoughts were racing through his head. _Damn! This changes everything! King Will is marching into a trap! I'm going to need to send word to him immediately!_ 

*This is EXTREMELY URGENT! The Prince's Pass has been left defenseless. Donovan Martell has deposed his sister, Titania Martell. The Dornish host waits outside of Sunspear for you. We must change our strategy. 

Lord Commander Joseph Tarly*

Lord Tarly sent 3 identical messages. One to Plankytown, another to Highgarden and the last to Storm's End.

*IMPORTANT to MARTELL and BARATHEON*


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## The Imp (Aug 21, 2011)

*Will Tyrell*

As Will's ship drew closer to the docks, he caught his first glimpse of the sun rising over the horizon. It was a beautifal sight but one that had been hindering his plans for years. Will Tyrell was not marching through the scorching desert of Dorne, instead he sat in Plankytown prepared for his final strike against the Martells. 

A handful of sailors were securing the ship to the dock as Will Tyrell marched off the ship accompanied by his son and their elite guard. 5 metres in front of them stood Ser Julian Redwyne directing the unloading of troops, horses, supplies and weapons off of their fleet. 

"Julian, how long will it take to unload everything?" Will Tyrell asked.

"It'll take me 2-3 hours to get all of the men off of the boats. And another couple of hours to unload our supplies," Ser Redwyne dutifully answered.

"Very well. Me, Markas and the other commanders will meet up with Dex Ilwyn and secure the city. Julian, I want you to send out 100 outriders in pairs out of the city as soon as possible. The sooner we find out the state of Martell's forces, the quicker we'll be able to smash their skulls in!" King Will stated passionately. 

King Will marched into town at a brisk pace. His entourage was only a step behind him. Will got his hands on the first Baratheon soldier in his sight and had him guide them to Lord Commader Dex Ilwyn.

*IMPORTANT to BARATHEON*


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## Terra Branford (Aug 22, 2011)

Storm's End​
With no word yet of his daughter and wife's arrival or even safety, Caleb grew worried for them. He wished he would have taken his Hand's advice and left them in Storm's End. Before he could call for paper and ink to write to Winterfell once more, the doors opened and a soldier appeared, carrying a letter.

"My Grace, a letter from from Lord Commander Joseph Tarly."

"Bring it here," he mumbled, a little irritated as he ripped the seal and pulled the note loose to read. His eyes widened. "Seven Hells," he muttered, sitting up. "Donovan Martell has deposed of his sister..."

"Your Grace...?"

"Lord Tarly couldn't find any hosts in Prince's pass, they were waiting in Sunspear..." his voice was soft, worried. "Bring me pen and paper, I need to write to Lord Saeron and Lord Commander Ilwyn...hopefully they have not walked straight into his trap."


Shore of Planky Town; Base​
Commander Dex Ilwyn was standing outside his war tent overseeing the base they had made the night of the invasion being taken down and moved when he saw one of his soldiers walking a bit faster than the host behind him, who Dex immediately recognized. 

"M'lord," the soldier turned to show King Will Tyrell and his company behind him. "His Grace Will Tyrell." the soldier bowed his head, turned and hurried off. 

"Your Grace," he smiled brightly. "The city is yours now." and then he bowed his head. "What shall our plans once the men have gathered once more?"


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## The Imp (Aug 22, 2011)

*Will Tyrell*

"Congratulations on your swift victory, Lord Commmander Dex Ilwyn," Lord Rowan said.

Will Tyrell ushered the commanders into the tent. "I've brought my favourite vintage of Arbor Gold to celebrate. I'd like to hear the details of your victory over a nice cup of wine," Will said mischievously. 

The Lords followed Will Tyrell into the tent. They all gathered at a table with the map of Dorne pinned down and took their seats. A squire popped open the wine bottle and began pouring for the seated commanders as Dex Ilwyn told everyone the details of the battle.

"Hmm, only 500 men? The Martells must have taken our bait and sent most of their forces to the Prince's Pass...," Lord Hightower thought aloud.

Prince Markas began asking Dex Ilwyn questions, "How many casualties did you suffer, and what have you done with the dead Dornishmen? Have you notified the civilians that Plankytown is now under the control of the Reach and the Stormlands? We don't want them becoming a thorn in our side while we are here."

*IMPORTANT for BARATHEON*


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## Nicodemus (Aug 22, 2011)

*Dani*​
All Dani knew was that there had been a raven, and then everything had changed.

Shahla, normally so warm and open, was refusing to speak to her, and barking orders at everyone from the head guard to the cooks. She, along with the others (her brother Flynn, the Baratheons kids, and the Arryn girl) were being herded out of the castles as fast as they could go.

"Where are we going?" She had asked, but Shahla could only shake her head and say,

"Away. You're going away."

Dani wasn't stupid. Something was happening. They were being attacked. But by who? They were too far North for a southern invasion to matter currently, and anyone who wanted to invade through the South would have to go through the Northern army - nobody had that kind of power right now, not while Bran was backed by the Arryns. 

The Iron Islands were unlikely as well. They hadn't seemed interested in Winterfell, and were employing hit and run coast tactics instead of straight up invasion. So that left only...

The Wall.

The Crows were attacking.

*Slightly important to Arryn, Baratheon* 

*Bran​*
When Bran got the letter, he nearly cut something in half.

The Wall. Kavez, the treacherous bastard, had betrayed their agreement. He was heading towards Winterfell in force, hoping to seize the fortress while Bran had the majority of his army in the South.

He could not stand for this. Kavez would pay - he would see to that.

"Wyatt!" He shouted, stalking out of his tent. "Send a raven to Matthias Arryn at once! Tell him that I'm asking for his help - men, as many as he can spare, and ships enough to carry our combine armies as close to Winterfell as we can get."

"What's happened M'lord?" Wyatt asked. "Why are we going North?"

"Kavez has spit on our agreement," Bran growled. "We're heading North. Inform Frey that we'll be leaving him 5,000 Northern men to hold the twins. Put a good, loyal man in charge of them - but tell him to watch Frey closely. I don't trust him."

"At once, sir," Wyatt said. "If I may ask, what do you plan to do?"

"Sail," Bran said. "Sail as fast as we can. When  we land, I'll send as many horses as we can spare ahead of us at a breakneck pace. They'll try to help Winterfell hold out until our main force can reach them."

"That will have to do for now," Wyatt said with a crisp nod. "May the Gods be with us."

"May the Gods be with us."

*Highly Important for Arryn, Kavez*


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## Coteaz (Aug 22, 2011)

*The King in the Vale*

*King?s Landing*

Seven hours after it began, the Purge of King?s Landing was complete. Reports filtered back to King Matthis on the High Hill: Flea Bottom completely razed. River Row put to the sword. All resistance within the city crushed. No sign of the Rat. Five hundred Arryn men killed or wounded, ten thousand rebels and their families executed. 

Matthis smiled and returned to his pavilion. 

?

It was a busy day for ravens. Reports littered the king?s great oaken desk, itself salvaged from the ruins of the Red Keep. The King of the East sighed in boredom as he read.

_Harrenhal secured. New border with Lannisters established. 

Riots in Saltpans and Maidenpool quelled. Minimal casualties.

Seaguard and coast fortified. Watchtowers in place. 

Eyrie quiet. Stark boy content. 3,000 loyal Vale men eager to fight._

Matthis tapped a pale finger in thought. Marrying the Lannister princess would join the two kingdoms in solid alliance, negating the need for troops at their border. The Greyjoys had been silent, with only token raids along the Westerlands. The new watchtowers would protect his new western Riverlands coast. But?

_Dragonstone._ The island was an enigma. A single vague rumor from an Ibbenese whaler ? a black standard bearing a silver-headed dragon ? was all Matthis had. 

?Could it be?? The King of the East muttered to himself, disbelieving. ?The Targaryens?returned?? Impossible. The line of dragon-kings was dead. 

A raven?s caw broke his reverie. The curious thing was sitting on the half-melted slag of the Iron Throne, feathers ruffled and a note bound to its leg. It smelled of heavy pines and thick sap. _It smelled of the North._ 

Pulse quickening, Matthis tore open the note. A wild grin spread unbidden across his face as he feverishly glanced from line to line. _This is it!_ The Arryn king reached for his dragon egg, the most precious thing in the world, cradling it in his arms. The white and blue egg now radiated a soft chill, when before it had burned with a hungry fire. The warlock?s words leapt unheeded into his mind:

_?When the time comes, you will know what to do.?_

Matthis roared for his attendants. ?Maester Kratz! Send ravens to Harrenhal, Seaguard, and the Eyrie. I want my vassals and their men marching to King?s Landing _now!_? Kratz scribbled furiously as his king went on. ?3,000 with Belmore from Harrenhal. 3,500 with Rykker from Seaguard. 2,000 from the Eyrie. Have Corbray remain in Maidenpool and ensure that the port is open.? 

Maester Kratz looked up in confusion. ?The port, Your Grace? Why-?

Matthis began to laugh. ?The Night?s Watch has invaded the North, Kratz. Bran Stark has taken my offer. Order Galbart Grafton to seize every cog in the harbor and ready them for transport. Oh, and please inform the King in the North that House Arryn sails to meet them at Maidenpool. Now, Kratz!? 

As his maester scrambled from the tent, the King of the East quietly prepared four sealed notes and handed them to the captain of his personal guard. Matthis sighed and stroked his dragon egg with a slender, pale hand. 

?Soon??


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## Terra Branford (Aug 22, 2011)

Shore of Planky Town; Base​
"Yes Prince Markas, only 500 hundred men, exactly." Dex swooshed the wine around in his cup as he spoke, not quite sure if the prince should have been asking the questions. "Our causalities were very small; we lost only seventy men in total -- seven of which were injured by arrows and cannot fight right now." he took a large swallow of the wine before he sat the come down to continue.

"I had some of my spearmen dispose of the bodies by dragging them far out of the city and then burning them, this was also done to our dead." he pressed a finger flat against the map on the spot where they were burned and then pulled back. "And about the civilians? Well, I had our soldiers pass the word of our arrival and the defeat of the Dornish. We haven't seen many civilians rebelling, and for those who have we had thrown into cells to calm them. Overall, the state of the civilians will not be a problem for us."

*Important* for *Tyrell* and *Martell*


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## The Imp (Aug 22, 2011)

*Robert Redwyne*

"So the Lannisters think my price is too steep for them. They're filthy rich but don't want to  part with some of it. I don't blame them, you can't buy friends with money. Although it's a bit presumptuous of them to think the marriage is still on the table. Fat chance of that!" The Hand exclaimed. "It would have been fun to rob them of their money but right now we have our own fair share of problems. We can't deal with theirs. We'll leave them to their own games for now."

Archmaester Symon was about to bring up some documents that needed signing when one of the other maesters came charging into the room. "My lord, there's a letter from Kingsgrave, it's Joseph Tarly. The raven carrying it had a red ribbon around it's leg, it must be something incredibly important."

Robert jumped out of his chair, ripped the letter out of the maesters hands and began reading. A look anger erupted on his face. Robert took the nearest vase and threw it against the wall. "EVERYBODY OUT! Except you Symon!"

Robert's squire, servants and maesters left the room in a rush dropping everything they were doing. It was unlike Robert to get this angry, the servants knew it must be something terrible.

"There's nobody in the Prince's Pass. All 25,000 of those Dornish fuckers are waiting outside of Sunspear. Our feint was pointless!" RObert slammed his fist on his desk.

Symon grabbed the letter and began reading it. "I've heard rumour of this Donovan Martell. You can be assured this is his work. He cares little about his bannermen, he would leave them to rot at the drop of a hat. This man is all about self preservation and he will do whatever it takes to accomplish that," Symon explained but then he paused in deep thought. "That's it. That's his greatest mistake. The letter says that the Prince's Pass is defenseless. 20,000 men is more than enough to capture empty castles. We take hostages and get his bannermen to turn on him."

"These are Dornish men you are talking about. They have been our enemies for thousands of years. No matter how despicable this man may be, do you honestly think they will turn on their King for us? And you're forgetting one major factor: your father. I've known Will Tyrell for decades, he isn't the type of man to sit quietly behind a wall while an enemy host sits outside it." Lord Redwyne explained.

"But what other option is left to us? Would you rather risk all of our men in an open battle on enemy territory? We must trust that father has surrounded himself with calm reasonable men who can convince him to this course of action and that the Dornish value their families over a petty grudge." Symon reasoned.

"Very well. This is the only path left to us. Send a raven to Tarly. Tell him to capture as many castles as he can and as fast as possible. I don't want any of these hostages harmed. Send another letter to Plankytown. Update them on our new strategy and caution them to avoid a direct confrontation until Tarly has succeeded in his task." Robert took a hesitant pause before continuing, "And send a letter to Storm's End. Update them on our new strategy. The Storm King won't like this new turn of events but retreating now is not an opposition."

*IMPORTANT to BARATHEON*


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## Serp (Aug 23, 2011)

Donovan Martell sat on the Dornish throne, he was smiling to himself.

"M'lord, the 500 men you have sent to Planky town have all been slain." Said Castion Dayne

"As was intended. It was those half century that drank the red correct?"

"Yes they drank the red liquid." 

"Excellent."

"Poison m'lord?"

"Aye, poison, but none of the normal Dornish swill, a secret I have carried over from Essos yes."

"But the Stag lord has burned his and our dead, the poison cannot spread."

"Ah it is not that type of poison, the liquid was enough for 500 doses and it will remain as 500 doses, this poison remains my eyes and ears in camp of the enemy."

"What are you saying?"

"Have you heard the term 1000 eyes and one?"

"No my lord???"

"It means, I have eyes everywhere, that potion will allow me to know what is going on through the eyes of my 500 men, the sight will jump from man to man and I will view them in my flames. But Alas when the time comes 500 men is not alot and the potion can only have 3 hosts, right now they are on their second and the influence is stronger. Once they reach the third I can even manipulate their thoughts with whispers."

"Why are you telling me this, and if this is no poison what was the anti poison you fed all the men?"

"Wielder of Dawn, you are not very bright are you. Why is it that you follow me even after I deposed your Queen and sent my bannermen you kin to their death. Because you will never betray me, you have taken the black. The power of a kings blood is a strong one and with that blood, with that potion, the deepest vintage of what I have given those 500, you will never betray me, your body is mine. But fear not it lasts a month at best until the magic burns you away, then you will be dead."

Castion Dayne could only nod, he wished he could get angry or do something but Donovan's presence in his mind was now felt, he was powerless.

"Then my lord what was it you gave to all the men, the Yellow Vintage?"

"Ah, that was the weakest of the compulsions, it simply makes it easier for them to follow orders they expect, to follow thier liege lord and king. I derived it from what the Unsullied drink as youths."

"What are you m'lord?"

"Me I am your King! But before that as Bastard, but inbetween I have been many things, A man of no faces, a man of the pits, one filled with sorrow and ones filled with greed. I have been a snake, a scorpion and even a kraken, but I am all that and yet just me." 

Castion nodded, despite wanting to feel fear at this man, he couldn't even bring himself to do it. Donovan looked at him and then Castion knew he could tell. Donovan smiled.

"Ready the men Dayne. Point half the host towards Plankytown, and after I visit the fires I will tell you where to march."

Dayne nodded, it was all he could do.


*Baratheon Tyrell*

Tynim was ready to ride out, the Riverlands now belonging to both he and the eastern king was enough to make passage each. Tyra was nervous, normally she was fiery but alas she had a right to be nervous. With two brothers she knew she would never become the Golden Queen but now she could be a moon queen. That thought made her smile. 

The Lannister Host was mighty indeed, Tynim had taken 10,000 men to meet with Marcus Arryn, the Vale was empty at Present so they could not go there, but he intended to meet the heir to the Vale at Riverrun. Not too far from home in case he needed to return swiftly. Within the Cargo they carried, included Tyra's dress red silk, with pressed gold as arnaments. And the 1 million fresh minted golden dragons. 

Tynim took up quill.
_
"Marcus,
I ride towards Riverrun once again, but not as an enemy but as a proud brother, to meet you in the field and welcome you to the West. My sister Tyra is along side me while Tymin holds the Rock. Upon reaching and choosing who will host who we will feast and party, and sing good health to our siblings. Another thing, I have heard knights of the Vale are strong and true, I have seen enough to prove that but I hear Arryns are miles above the rest, maybe a Tourney? I will bare the costs no worry, just so long as I get an Arryn boy or two to Squire for me, a small payment. Well I ride now, I hope to meet you soon.

Tynim Lannister."_

*Arryn*

Serion was excited, an Army for him and he could see it on the Horizon. Although the nights were dark the Narrow sea was narrow indeed and through leaving in low light and sailing hard through the dead of night the ships would be ready in the morrow.

"Your Grace?" Mormont had entered the room.

"Yes Jacob?"

"The Golden Company is fast approaching if sources are true, but sources also say the rumour of the silver Dragon banner is picking up as well, we cannot hide for much longer, nevermind the force of the Golden Company cannot be held on Dragonstone alone, we must choose where and when to march." 

Serion was thinking. "First tell me the Story of the Golden Company I wish to hear it."

"As your grace commands. It starts with the two Lords Undergold and Bittersteel, it is their story.
Many years ago, too many to be sure there was a Baratheon girl named Chloe. She was fair and wonderous as the tales say. She was married to an Old Lannister lord, there was no true love there, her father had arranged it, the old lion was dying with no heirs and his brothers eager to be lord of the Rock. Chloe bore the old Lion one son Aurum, Aurum Lannister. 
After that he never took her to bed, he knew she wanted it not, he was a good man. Chloe was eager for love and found her way in Kings Landing one day the Lannisters had been called to Court. The Dragon king at the time Aegon was taken with her and took her each and everyway. Then the Lannisters return to the rock. It was soon found that Chloe was found to be pregnant. The Old Lion claimed the child was his even though he knew it was falsehood. Soon after that the Old Lion died and Aurum became lord of the Rock. But when his baby brother was born the secret was out the child's hair silver as the moon his eyes purple passion. The old uncles then cast out Chloe but offered to spare her adulterous life if Aurum stepped down, which he did. Chloe then made motion to the Storm lands to return to father with her two sons. Aurum was 12 but strong and the baby named Argen was but 1. The Stormlord had no love for his daughter, disowned her and even tried to kill her for her adulterous acts and the shame it had caused the family. Aurum protected his mother, scarring his grandsire's face at the process, he proved under it all he was still a Lion. Chloe's journey did not stop there, she made for the red keep, Aegon would acknowledge his bastard son surely. Aegon looked at Chloe and the two dirty boys she had with scorn, Chloe begged at how her life was ruined and pleaded for help.  Aegon said she could be his bed warmer if she did away with the boys. Hurt and wounded, she raised baby Argen and showed him to Aegon. 'His hair is silver as is yours, he is your son' but Aegon replied, 'He is no dragon and that is no silver, that is but a pale imitation a bitter steel." Chloe couldn't take it anymore, she was a weak woman used to getting what she wanted so she abandoned her two sons and became a whore of the king. The story then goes on to Aurum raised his little brother Argen by himself, taking names for themselves of their abandoned heiritage Aurum Undergold and Argen Bittersteel, brothers of gold and silver indeed, and then they were never seen again. One day a new sellsword company opened up in Essos, it started small but was gaining strength quickly. The Golden Company it was called. At its front now men grown Aurum Undergold and Argen Bittersteel, their Motto Beneath the Gold, the Bitter steel. Aurum was the eldest and the wise man, he managed the money and politics of it all he was a trueborn lord, Argen was was beast in the field, taking his name to heart the Bitter steel, he was bastard born and full of rage, the only family that had not turned on him had been his brother and that was all that mattered. The first major job they took on Westeros was their own, Aegon and their mother killed by Bittersteel and the Stag and Lion punished but Undergold, who then placed his own lion pup as the Lord of the Rock. Then they took off again across the Narrow sea."

Serion listened intently, the Golden company had dragon blood in materia or in soul it never mattered, but the root of their problem always ran back to one house, sure the Lannisters were greedy and sure the Targs were prideful, but the lust of the daughter, the wrath of the father and then the betrayal of the mother, showed that only one house would be the perfect place for the Golden Company to strike.

"Mormont, the ships arrive on the Morrow, Arryn controls the crownlands, Vale and piece of the Riverlands, I would be a fool to march now, but with the war in Dorne the south is weaker."

"And as such?"

"We march on Storms end, beneath the gold the bitter steel."

*Baratheon*


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## The Imp (Aug 24, 2011)

*Plankytown*

Lord Rowan had called an emergency meeting. All of the Commanders showed up at the War Council except for Prince Markas. He had left hours ago to keep an eye on the soldiers as they fixed up the cities defenses. 

"I was giving instructions to the maestars when a raven flew in. It carried a letter from Joseph Tarly and a red ribbon marking it as extremely urgent," Lord Rowan explained his reason for calling a council.

"Yes,yes. Open it, tell us what he says," king Will replied impatiently. 

As Rowan opened the letter and skimmed over it, prince Markas charged into the tent. "Father, the scouts have returned! They're saying there is a Dornish Host of 25,000 outside of Sunspear, but that can't be possible. They're supposed to be at the Prince's Pass..."

"No, they're not. Tarly has sent word from Kingsgrave. The Dornish Marches have been abandonned." Lord Rowan began reading the letter aloud word for word, and the room became gloomier and gloomier.

"Shit! What should we do now?" Lord Florent asked.

"We stick to the plan and we march! We still have a numerical advantage. We attack them swiftly and end this war just as we planned. Let's meet them in battle and rip them a new asshole!" King Will roared.

"Your grace, the Dornish know their lands better than us and we do not have the element of surprise anymore. These civilians will no doubt turn on us the second we leave with our backs to them. If we march now we will face heavy losses. I say we wait for Tarly to join us before going on the offensive." Lord Hightower cautioned. 

"You want to wait!? Do you doubt your men and their ferocity in battle? I didn't take you for a craven Hightower!" King Will yelled back. 

Things were beginning to get heated when Ser Redwyne spoke up, "Lord Dex Ilwyn, you command 10,000 men in our host. Where do you stand on this matter?"

*BARATHEON*

-----------------------------------------------

*Prince's Pass*

"Ok men, we've gotten word from the Hand. He's outlined our new strategy." Lord Tarly turned to the map of Dorne hanging on the wall. "We have 20,000 men here at Kingsgrave. I will leave 200 men to hold the castle while the rest of us march south. At Skyreach our host will split in 2. Lord Searon and his men of the Stormlands will capture the castle as I move further south to Sandstone. From there I will capture Hellholt, Starfall, High Hermitage and Blackmont. Lord Searon will take his 10,000 east and capture  Yronwood. Then you will march up the Boneway, and capture Wyl and Vulture's Roost. Understand?" 

The other commanders nodded their heads before Lord Tarly continued, "At each castle we will leave a garrison of 200 men. Now the next part is crucial. You must take the Lady and children of the house hostage and have them write letters to their Lord. You will send it to Plankytown after you capture each castle. The hostages travel with your host and get all courtesies. They are our ace in the hole in turning Donovan's host against him. I've already had Lady Manwoody write her letter, and she will be accompanying my host, Searon. Unless you have any questions you are all dismissed. Prepare your men, we leave within the hour."

*BARATHEON and MARTELL*


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## Terra Branford (Aug 25, 2011)

Planky Town​
Dex Ilwyn glanced about the men before him, unsure if what he had to say would be accepted or the right thing to say. He agreed with King Will they had to be taken care of now before anything could happen, but not when the hosts were divided. 

"A raven arrived for me early from my King...he had mentioned the Dornish hosts being in Sunspear, information he had gathered from Commander Tarly. I was about to tell you of it, but the Prince has quickened this meeting it seems," he smiled at the prince tiredly and then turned to King Will once more. 

"I think we should wait for Tarly's host and rest of the Baratheon host. We have the higher numbers, we can destroy them. Waiting is the best option for us...going in now would be suicide." he gave the king a slight frown. "I don't doubt the skills of my men in battle and we would likely hold them until the rest arrive, but we would lose too many men against the Dornish now. Your Grace....I say we wait."

Prince's Pass​
_I only hope that we make it in time to Planky Town before King Will attacks. If all the Dornish soldiers are there, then it would be a ghastly mistake taking it._  Saeron thought as he tightened his gloves around his hands and shifted the helmet on his head. "I will do as commanded, Lord Tarly." he bowed his head, turned and headed out the door praying to the gods that leaving so many men behind did not impair their battle in the future.

Important to Tyrell and Martell.​


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## The Imp (Aug 31, 2011)

*Plankytown*

King Will took his wine and flung it across the room. Then he got up and charged out, his personal guard following after him. 

There was a look of concern on the faces of the gathered commanders. "Don't worry, my father is angry now but he'll calm down and listen to reason eventually," Prince Markas reassured everybody. "It'd be best if we continued on with this council."

"Very well, Prince Markas. You know your father best." Lord Rowen stated with a hint of unease in his voice. "I don't want to be taken by surprise by the Dornish. I suggest we keep 10,000 armed guarding the perimeter at all times. The rest should be told to be ready for battle at a moment's notice."

"I shall lead those 10,000 and the vanguard," Lord Hightower asserted. "My king thinks me a coward, I'll show him he can rely on me in battle at all times."

"Very well, my lords. I think it'd be best if we double our outriders." said Prince Markas. "I'll take care of this task personally." The other lords nodded in approval. Prince Markas was young and untested. It was better for him to handle a smaller task than lead thousands of men into battle.

Ser Redwyne spoke up, "All of you are forgetting an advantage we hold over the Martells." The other commanders turned their heads in interest. "Our ships! The Martells have no navy. Give me 3 thousand men to patrol the shores from here to Sunspear. I need the best archers we have and strong men to work the catapults on our ships. We'll be able to flank them should we enter battle."

"Brilliant idea Julian!" Lord Rowen exclaimed. "Florent, Ilwyn and I will take care of the rest of the soldiers and prepare our defenses in the mean time. We can only hope Tarly reaches us in time. My Prince, inform King Will of our plans. I think we're fine for now."

*IMPORTANT to BARATHEON and MARTELL*


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## The Imp (Sep 7, 2011)

*Dornish Desert*

Joseph Tarly had left the Baratheon troops behind 3 days ago. They had been marching at night and sleeping in the day. The Dornish sun was their greatest enemy. On the first day 50 men collapsed from dehydration and overheat. After that Tarly had commanded his troops to take off any unnecessary equipment and supplies and load them onto carts they had taken from Kingsgrave. The knights stored away their armour and shifts were created to equally distribute the task of pulling the additional supply wagons.

By the next night they would reach Sandstone and capture it. Afterwards a minor division would split off to capture Hellholt while the main host went west to capture the major castles in the area. It wasn't wise to keep on splitting their army but time wasn't on their side. 

*BARATHEON, MARTELL*
_________________________________

*Highgarden*

"My lord, my contacts have gotten news of a conflict in the North. The King on the Wall is marching south on Winterfell." Archmaester Symon informed.

"This idotic King should stay on the wall where he belongs. He preaches about a realm ruled by equals without a King, but he takes up the moniker nonetheless. Besides why does this concern us?" Robert Redwyne asked.

"Not us directly, but Caleb Baratheon has sent his daughters to Winterfell. He thinks they're safe there but they're simply hostages." Symon replied.

"That fool! Why would he send his daughters into the harsh North? His lands remain untouched by war and Storm's End is one of the strongest castles in the entire realm! Does he know yet?" Redwyne exclaimed in an angry tone. His job was getting to him.

"No.."

"Good. Keep it like that for now. Caleb values family above all else. If he hears of this, he'll pull out his men as soon as possible and send them to Stark's aid. this is a very delicate matter. We'll keep him in the dark for now, but we'll have to tell him eventually." Redwyne stated.

"Also my lord, I've heard rumours of a Targaryen and dragon on Dragonstone. Dragonstone has been in ruins for a long time now, so I don't have any reliable contacts there."

"House Targaryen ended with the death of the last King. I highly doubt there is one left on that island. Nonetheless, I want you to keep your ears open for any new info on this matter." said the Hand of the King.

"Very well." Symon said as he bowed and left the room. 

*BARATHEON, STARK, TARGARYEN*
_______________________________

*Plankytown*

Lord Florent entered King Will's tent. "Your Grace, we've gotten word from Tarly and Redwyne." Will Tyrell's interest piqued. "Lord Tarly and Lord Searon of the Stormlands have split up and are conquering the Dornish Marshes. In a weeks time they will have captured enough hostages that we can place them on the playing board. The other lords and I have agreed, that on the 7th day we will release the civilians. We'll horde them towards Sunspear and include some of our own people. They will contact many of the Dornish Lords and make an ultimatum: Die for this monster Donovon, or switch sides in the middle of battle and save your families. Lord Yronwood and Lord Manwoody will be offerred the title of Warden of Dorne and will keep this land under control once we return to the Reach."

"Okay, we'll proceed with this course of action." Will Tyrell replied calmly, but underneath he was seething that his bannermen had chosen to decide the course of the war without consulting him.

*BARATHEON, MARTELL*


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## Serp (Sep 19, 2011)

Donovan sat on his throne, a tempered look across his face and a vial of red liquid twirled between his fingers. It was then that Castion entered the room and fell to his knees. 

"Ah Dayne, at last." 

"Yes my king, how may I help you." Castion spat out the words, in his mind it was wretching to feel the words come out of his mouth that he did not mean, Donovan was a powerful man that was sure. 

"Take this Vial and travel north, or east to Essos if it please you."

"My lord?"

"I fear my time is near, the spies I have in households among Dorne alert me to sense of danger and betrayal, turncloaks in every shadow. Apart from you my sword of the morning." 

This was the first Castion knew of any of this, if he went East to could find Titiana and maybe, just maybe they could recover Dorne. 

"A nice plan, Dayne, but my sister is gone, a merchant woman with sandy skin in Essos might be easy to find if the land was small."

"My lord, you intercepted your sisters mind also."

"Good heavens no, one flaw of this is, if the target is too closely related to me, the effects do not work. Or I would have killed Titiana by now, but her kings blood is too precious to waste. I have servants that were watching her, but she is every bit a snake as I am, and have evaded them. But no matter Dorne is mine and will be mine even after death." 

"My lord." Dayne thought to himself, Donovan was crazy man, Dorne after his death. Rumors were strong in the times and tales of men after death still rang in the air, but it was nonsense. It was then that Donovan looked Dayne in the eyes and his face curled into a devilish grin. 

"Now, scatter the men, attack the Stag and Weeds with the full force of Dorne, tell the men to protect their lands and raise a riot among the land of the Sun during that time take flee with yourself, get far far away and keep that vial safer than your own life, do son and maybe your life will return to you in time."

Dayne nodded and left the room, the Troops were to go wild and kill all in their sight, save the land of Dorne, although they were outnumbered, the poition that Donovan feed them lowered fear and resistance, they would fight to the bitter end.

It was then that Donovan rose up and walked to his cabinet, two small boys, squires, opened up his cabinet and before his was his armour, a breast plate of polished red, underscales of red and two spears.

"Tonight the Sun sets, and later it shall rise." He spoke to himself as he prepared for battle. 

----------

Kato Tully knelt before his rightful king. 
"Your Dragon is on your back you say." Greyjoy said pensive.

"Ay my lord." Kato was dirty and wounded, this wounded his pride even more, only 14 and he had stolen and lost a kingdom. 

"Show him to me!" Greyjoy demanded.

"I will once I rise, taking out a Dragon while knelt is not an easy take and once I rise I rise an Ironman with my own longship."

Greyjoy chuckled although there was no humour in his voice. "You play a hard game Tully, but you are correct." Jeremiah clapped his hands and in walked a mixture of Tully and ironmen. 

"These are your crew, men bound from your shattered host and a few iron born to keep you under control. I am your king now and you shall captain the ship, Bloodriver. Rise now Kato Tully, Ironborn."

Kato raised himself up and brushed himself down.

"Now show me the Dragon! Tully! As your King I command you to give it to me." 

Kato kept his mouth shut and walked upto the steps before the throne. And unhooked his kettle and opened it. Inside a small Dragon, barely a hatchling stared up with eyes like looked like running water. 

Greyjoy opened his arms. "Bring it to me." Kato stood his ground. 

"Now!" And once again Kato didn't move. 

Greyjoy clicked his fingers again, and men moved in to surround Kato. Kato drew his blade and held it firm.

"Tully what is the meaning of this, I am your king, I gave you your rights as an Ironman, your ship! What is the meaning of this, say something!" 

Tully pointed his sword at Jeremiah, and his crew men raised their blades, they were outnumbered yes, but he still stood his ground.

"Jeremiah Greyjoy, with no living heirs and Iron King, I Kato Tully, rightful river king and captain of the Ship Bloodriver have only one thing to say to you."

"What what, spit it out you devious fish, it will be your last."

"Kingsmoot!" And with that the dragon Jene opened his mouth and red and blue flames tickled the air and brought light to the blade that faced Jeremiah Greyjoy as colour fell from his face.


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