A Song of Ice and Fire - Interregnum (IC/Open)

[Alotopia]

Lord Mace Tyrell
Highgarden

Mace had received the letter from the High Septon. It said that he plans on arresting the Grand Council and such; not a terrible idea, but this has no doubt sent the Capital into a panic with Gold Cloaks and Guards running around...

Good. The High Septon is finally doing something about this issue. But what of the "heathens" in the city? That is a different matter entirely. What defines a heathen? A person who worships a different religion or someone who has sinned period? That is the most troubling... Mace thought as he looked down the Roseroad from his study. This is it... War has come... The Lords will take this opportunity to raise their armies to put down the Faith Militant, and when that is finished, they will turn them on each other...

Lady Alena Tyrell

Lady Alena was surprised by the abrasive manner Lord Arryn spoke to her, she really had no idea what the letter said as it was sealed by Mace... She knew her cousin supported the Lannisters for the Throne, but Rhaegar Targaryen was an old, frail man not fit to be King. A King was needed to lead from the front, not send his Lords off to die in his name.

As Lord Arryn left, she stood there in silence. Not knowing what to say or how to even respond. Ser Barristan Tyrell hadn't left with Lord Arryn or even the Dornish Bastard, so he soon was standing next to her asking what to do...

"My Lady, the Tyrell Residence is much more secure than Lord Arryn's estate. I would suggest we take Lord Arryn's children and Guard to our residence and hold up there..."

"That sounds like a good idea, go speak with teh Guard and I will gather the children..." Alena said as she shifted her attention to the task at hand. She quickly ran to the children's rooms and gathered them up. However, Tylar's oldest son, Ashter, was not understanding Alena and wasn't listening to her. So, instead of leaving him, Alena picked up the boy and carried him down the stairs to Ser Barristan and the other children...

"Tell your men to station four bannermen inside this residence and bar the doors, I will take the rest of you to the Tyrell Residence and secure us and the children inside. Any questions?" asked Ser Barristan as he checked his sword and armor...

"Yeah, I got one" said an Arryn bannerman standing in the back, "Who put you in charge? I follow Lord Arryn."

"You can be one the ones that stay here, but I'm taking the children and Lady Alena to the Tyrell Residence. Stand aside." Barristan responded, motioning Alena to follow. An Arryn guard took Ashter from Alena and about three fourths of the Arryn Guard followed them. They barred the doors and made their way to the Tyrell's...

It was a brisk walk to the Manor as they hurried past the Gold Cloaks and peasants... They soon reached the walled residence and walked inside. The Tyrell archers were already in the windows and roof as the entered the house. The Arryn guards locked the main gate and took position around the perimeter. The study wooden door to the Manor soon slammed closed as the Tyrells and Arryn children took refuge inside.

"There we are children, all safe now. Nothing can get through this door." She smiled warmly at the children and softly ran her fingers through the youngest child's hair, "Barristan, find Ser Mathis Redwyne. He is acting as Master of Ships with Ryam Redwyne in Oldtown... I would expect him to be near the docks. Ensure that if things heat up, Mathis has a ship for us ready..."

Ser Barristan smirked, a vassal of the Tyrells... Easily malluable to his will... He bowed and departed the Manor towards the docks...

He soon found Mathis inspecting the ships in the harbor and called out, "Ser Mathis of House Redwyne. I am Ser Barristan of House Tyrell, Brother to your Liege Lord Lord Mace Tyrell. I need your a loan us a ship for use to leave King's Landing if the city becomes unsafe for myself and my cousin. Are you able to accommodate my request? If you are, I may be able to compensate you with Gold Dragons if it is necessary..."

[Asyir]

Ser Willhelm Aelör, knight of Blackhaven
The Dornish Marshes, Edge of Aelör Holdings, The Stormlands
2nd Day:

The morning air was warm and comforting to the young knight, as he led his horse forward on the mossy cobble road to Wyl. Ser Willhelm heard the heavy trotting of twenty horses behind him, as the party slowly approached a small outlying village. They were not yet in Wyl territory, that was leagues further south, instead they approached the small mining town of Yorkshire, the fourth largest settlement within Aelör Holdings. The town was poorly laid out, thus most inhabitants lived outside the rundown wooden palisades that acted as their only defense. Militiamen patrolled the walls, most of them either too old or too young to properly fight. As Willhelm approached the rotted wooden gatehouse, a grim voice called out," Halt, by order of Ser Tymon Brighthall, none may pass through Yorkshire! We want no adventurers, no sellswords, and no bandits here! Thank you!"

Ser Willhelm moved closer to the ramparts, and could make out the man calling out. He appeared old and frail, like a tree during a whirlwind. He wore padded leather armor, with the markings of two golden swords, the sigil of Brighthall, a landed knight that served Lord Shoryn Whitespear. He leaned on an old iron spear, and brandished a short sword on his hip. He wore an open helm, and had no chain. He was naught but a poor farmer most likely, forced to don armor and weapons to defend the edge of Aelör holdings.

Approaching the gate, Willhelm cried back," I am Ser Willhelm of Blackhaven, son of Shoryn whom is lord there. I request for the gates to be opened to me and my escort of guard, and for Ser Tymon Brighthall to be notified of my presence."

The old watcher screamed out orders to open the gate. The wooden gate creaked open, and Willhelm passed through with his escort behind. The armored force made its way through the small town, towards the Brighthall Manor, located in the center of town.

Calling Yorkshire a town was an overstatement. Few building of stone or brick were erected within. Wood and sod made most of the houses here, and there weren't a lot of them either. Willhelm figured only a thousand people lived here at a maximum, five hundred at a minimum. Of course, a majority were forced to live within the Marshes, beyond the safety of a wooden wall.

They neared the town square, where a large fountain of stone lay. Water gushed up and down in elegant streams, and it was incredibly pleasing to spectate. Willhelm saw an old man in a yellow surcoat approach him from his right. "Ser Willhelm. We were not expecting visitors. If we had, such an incident at the gate would not have occurred. We are deeply sorry ser."

"It's not a problem. One must be careful and ready on the edge of civilization," Willhelm said. Willhelm and most Aelör held the thought that Dorne was anything but civilized. The tales of the sexuality of the Dornish baffled them all. Willhelm also held the grudge against House Wyl, and only accepted this task because he respected Emmittyn.

"I'm glad you see it our way," the armored horseman responded. "You may not remember nor regonize me, but I am Ser Tymon Brighthall, holder of Yorkshire. You were but a wee lad last we met."

"Greeting Ser Tymon," Willhelm bowed modestly. Despite being a noble, Willhelm was not arrogant nor did he demand respect. He was much like Emmittyn, to the point where they were thought to have the same personality. Unfortunately, Willhelm had not the sword nor the wits of his elder brother. Willhelm also was less devout in his faith. He bedded whores as he whimmed, and fathered a bastard daughter, whom Lord Shoryn has considered giving the Aelör name. "I come for a warm bed for the day, as we must march at night. Ser Emmittyn's orders."

"Ah yes. Do come to my manor. We can take care of everything," the old knight smiled back. "It has been long since I have entertained an Aelör, not since a decade ago. Usually the gathering is at Blackhaven. Ah, forgive my ramblings, follow me back to the manor."

"Many thanks See Tymon, I will not forget this kindness."

"It's nothing my young lad. I'm always happy to serve."

Willhelm followed the knight back to his manor, where breakfast was made, and Willhelm was given a nice warm bed for the day. He chatted with Tymon for a few hours, but Ser Tymon had duties to attend to, and Willhelm was exhausted from his two day march. The young Aelör sunk into the bed, and drifted off the sleep.

Ser Emmittyn Aelör, Heir of Blackhaven
Blackhaven Keep, Aelör Holdings, The Stormlands
Day 2:

Emmittyn had seen Willhelm off to Wyl nearly two days ago. He figured he was nearing Yorkshire, the border between House Aelör and House Wyl. He had decided to pen two letter beforehand, one to Ser Tymon Brighthall, and another to Lady Mertha Wyl:

To Ser Tymon of Yorkshire,

Ser Tymon, you have been a loyal friend for many a decade to me and my father, Lord Shoryn. Recently my father has became obsessed with the madness for war against House Wyl, a war in which would ruin our House. I am writing to warn you of my fathers plans, and to tell you of my brother Willhelm, whom I have sent on a diplomatic mission to Castle Wyl. I hope that these Wyl's are more generous and benevolent then the previous ones, whom robbed us of our land, and of your son. If diplomacy fails, fortify the border, and prepare for war.

Yours truly,

Ser Emmittyn Aelör, Heir of Blackhaven

To Lady Mertha Wyl of Wyl,

Greetings and fair tidings upon your house. You may not remember me, as we were children last we met, but I am Emmittyn Aelör, and I wish my letter to you was less dire. A madness has overtook Lord Shoryn here, and he pushes for renewed conflict agianst your house. As a knight, and man of the Faith, I write to you in good faith. I will not let my father drag both our noble houses into another war, I swear it upon the Seven. As of now, I have sent my brother Ser Willhelm to Wyl to discuss a possible return of some of our land taken by your lord father. With some land returned, mayhaps my father will become content again, and our houses may prosper in partnership instead of wasted conflict.

Yours truly,

Ser Emmittyn Aelör, Heir of Blackhaven

Satisfied, Emmittyn sent his letters off.

[Old Tyrannia]

Stannis Stark
Stark Manor, King's Landing
The Crownlands

Cerion's message had arrived at the Stark Manor before Lord Rhaegar's men. Stannis had read it aloud to his steward and other trusted men in his study. There were looks of bewilderment on all of the Northmen's faces when he had finished.

"Send fifty men to Flea Bottom? What, is he mad?" one complained. "We could have a mob baying at our doors any minute. We have barely enough men to defend the manse as it is- and he wants us to send away fifty of them? What could he possibly mean to do?"

Stannis had no answer for that. He'd nonetheless decided to place his trust in his Lannister nephew, ordering fifty men under his long-time friend and comrade Jorah Poole to Flea Bottom. He ordered them to make haste and stay low key- it was better if they were not recognised as Stark men, if the bloodletting started while they were out in the open. Each went fully armoured. Stannis had watched them go from the window above the main door to his house. He felt their loss bitterly; it left him with only five-and-ninety of his own men, the one-and-thirty Northern sellswords who had come to the manse in response to his message, and some twenty of the other Northerners who had sought safety from the mob with him, who volunteered to take up arms to defend their fellow worshippers of the Old Gods. Close to a hundred people had sought sanctuary with him since the boy went down to the docks, mainly those that had no means to leave the city quickly or defend themselves if their faith made them a target. The manor was full to bursting. Many were in the garden, praying for the Old Gods' aid. Stannis had planted a weirwood cutting, taken from the heart tree in Winterfell itself, after moving into the manse. It had been sent in response to his request by his brother, Alistair. It was only half his own height, but one day it would be as tall as those of the North, and then the faithful would carve a face into the tree to the Old Gods could see. For now, it was the closest thing to a true heart tree the Northerners could find.

Soon after Jorah Poole and his men had gone to Flea Bottom, the Targaryen men arrived, accompanied by twenty goldcloaks. From the windows of the manor, the Northmen looked down with suspicion. Stannis thought that it would have been better if Rhaegar had only sent his own men to the manor; the North remembered, and the names Ned Stark and Janos Slynt were whispered amongst the crowds. Men of the North had never forgotten how well the goldcloaks had "protected" Stannis' grandfather when he'd faced down Queen Cersei and her monstrous spawn in the throne room of the Red Keep. Still, these men were here to protect them, as far as he knew, and he was grateful for that. He quietly instructed his men to ensure they were treated with respect, lest they become the vanguard of the rioters and not the Starks' first line of defence from them. He had gone down and argued for some time with the goldcloaks and Ser Maegor, insisting that whatever Rhaegar had said about letting no one in to the manor, he would not close his doors to anyone who came seeking sanctuary. House Stark had pledged to protect the followers of the Old Gods, and House Stark did not forget its pledges.

It was then that a boy came up from Flea Bottom, a half-starved runt with a piece of paper in his small hand.

"Lookin' for m'lord of Stark," he shouted. "I 'ave a message from wun a' 'is knights, Ser Jorah Poole down by Flea Bottom."

Stannis summoned the boy closer. "I'm Stannis Stark. The message is for me."

"Ser Jorah said I'd get anuvver silver stag if I gave it to yer, m'lord," said the boy cautiously, his eyes drifting to Stannis' sword. Smiling, Stannis handed him two silver stags, which the boy clasped to his chest with a gap-toothed grin. Stannis read the note, scribbled hastily on a scrap of parchment. For a moment, he was confused- Jorah Poole (not a knight, despite the boy's misunderstanding; Poole worshipped the same gods as Stannis) wanted him to send wagon of food and as much gold as he could spare down to Flea Bottom "for the poor orphans." Suddenly, he realised Cerion's plan. The crafty bugger, he thought. Getting the people on side by giving alms to the poor- like the Sparrows can speak out against them while they were engaged in charity work. And if Stark men were with him, giving out food and gold from Stannis Stark alongside the Lannisters... The Starks had been loved once in King's Landing. Under Joffrey, there had been many even in the south who saw Robb Stark, the Young Wolf, as a hero and liberator. And it was widely known that the Faith itself had protested the execution of Lord Eddard on the steps of the Sept of Baelor. The people just needed to be reminded that the Starks were men of honour, champions of the people.

He gave orders that all the spare food in the manor's pantry be gathered up, along with most of the gold he had with him. Summoning two loyal men, he ordered them to take it down to Flea Bottom in a cart, bearing the Starks' sigil proudly, and handing it out along the way to anyone who looked hungry or poor. House Stark, they were to tell the people, wished to contribute in some small way to easing the burdens of the new taxes on the poor, being concerned by the poverty they saw already in King's Landing. The cynicism of the tactic rankled with his sense of honour, but he reminded himself that maintaining order and stability in the city was a noble cause. As the wagon was wheeled away, Stannis, who was watching from the steps of his house, turned to Ser Maegor.

"Lord Rhaegar better get here soon, ser," he said. "If my men return from Flea Bottom before he arrives, I won't be barring the door to them, whatever the Hand may say." He stopped, as if something else had occurred to him. "And thank you, by the way. We appreciate your help more than you know." With that, he walked up the steps and back inside.

[Independent States of Tula]

Stannis Baratheon, Outside Daenerys Baratheon's Chambers, Storm's End, 0 Days...

Stannis had rushed from the practice yard to his sister's chambers, without hesitating he knocked on the door heavily and called out "Dany! It's Stannis...let me in please! Mother is worried sick!"

There was a pause for a few tense moments before Stannis heard movement from behind the door and the wooden block being moved up to allow the door to be opened. When it did Stannis felt as if he had been stabbed through the heart at the sight of his sister. Her amazingly beautiful face was swollen and red with tears clear as she looked upon Stannis, immediately she brought him into a tight embrace as her tears renewed.

"He's going to sell me away to that monster!" Daenerys cried out as she pressed her face against Stannis's hauberk.

"Dany..." Stannis pleaded as he found his arms limply hanging by his sides awkwardly as his sister sought out his comforting presence.

Finally Stannis stiffly wrapped his arms around his sister and held her tightly enough to let her know she wasn't alone before saying "There'll be a Tourney soon...while we're there I will duel that bastard, if I win then father has agreed to let you choose your own husband."

Dany looked up at Stannis and asked weakly, obviously fearing the answer "But what if you lose?"

"You will marry him and secure the Marches for House Baratheon." Stannis admitted before he moved his hand to wipe the tears from Daenerys's face "But I will not lose. I won't let that bastard touch you again, not after what he tried...I should have gelded him when I had the chance."

"I trust you...but he's a Tourney knight now...what if he wins?" Dany questioned.

"He won't, I promise to you and I swear to the True God that I will not lose." Stannis promised.

"Thank you...thank you Stannis." Daenerys said as she held her brother close to her once more.

---

Lord Paramount Davos Baratheon, Personal Study, Storm's End, 1 Day Since Faith Uprising Declared...

"THAT FUCKING CUNT!" The shout echoed throughout the room as Davos read over the letter from Renly in King's Landing concerning the High Septon "He dares to pull such a move!?! He dares move to steal from me what is rightfully mine and call me the heathen while he does it!?! I'll burn him alive as an offering to R'hllor!!!"

"Calm, my husband, now is not the time to act so foolhardy. Your faith is not that worshiped by most, to act so brazenly against the High Septon would turn half of Westeros against us. You must act wisely here." Lyanna stated calmly, suddenly her son intervened as well.

"I know how to act father, we have also received that letter from Rhaegar, and with that letter we have a plan and a reason to intervene in the affairs of King's Landing." Stannis interjected.

"And what plan is that Stannis?" Davos questioned as he looked to his son.

"The Tourney that we'll be sinking money into will require peace to be hosted, if we continue with it then we can move soldiers into King's Landing to keep the Faith Militant in check for the duration of the Tourney and the days leading up to it. In that time we can solidify our position as keepers of the peace and upholders of the law...furthermore we could use our armed presence to finally force a decision by the Grand Council...we'd need only two regiments I suppose to accomplish what we need." Stannis stated before going into detail "I suggest we start out with Lord Linster-"

"Lord Linster? What can that cunt do for us!?!" Davos cut his son off.

"Lord Linster can command 1000 levies and he has 20 ships to transport them to King's Landing quickly. He also has ties to the Faith and is known as a bulwark to our faith in the Stormlands. The presence of his troops guarding the streets and the Red Keep could keep the Faith Militant passive for the time needed...furthermore it would be his troops that take losses rather than ours if his faith is indeed not enough to keep the Faith Militant at bay. While Lord Linster keeps the peace I can ride with our cavalry regiment to better secure King's Landing from the Faith Militant, with two regiments of men we'll be able to be a significant force in King's Landing, add to it the Gold Cloaks under the command of Brightflame and we'll have only the best trained and equipped force in King's Landing. Not only will we be able to keep the peace but so long as the Grand Council is still standing by the time we get there we can force them to back the rightful claim to the throne...it's a win-win situation." Stannis explained.

Davos was silent a moment and looked to Lyanna before looking back to Stannis and saying "We'll do it your way...get your things and ride out to Bronzegate, take your regiment and make your way to King's Landing. Tomorrow we'll be riding for the Tourney in King's Landing along with our half of the payment...I'll deal with the letters."

Stannis nodded and quickly left, Davos looked to Lyanna and saw the worried look on her face, treading carefully after yesterday Davos stated "He's ready for this my love...he's too much like his great grandfather for both of our sake...and to the misfortune of our enemies."

With that Davos began writing out letters but was surprised when he noticed Lyanna sit down at another desk in the study and begin writing as well and so he asked "Who do you write to my dear wife?"

Lyanna replied with two simple words before she continued "My brother."

To Lord Rhaegar Nymeros-Martell Targaryen,

Lord Rhaegar, I am happy to hear that you have seen the wisdom of a Tourney, especially after the announcement by the High Septon. Along with this letter will be a list of artisans that I have found to be trustworthy in the art of building a Tourney grounds and with that is also an estimate of how much it will cost and the time needed to both build it and to allow Lords from across Westeros to arrive, my family and I will be on our way with our half of the needed funds the day after this letter is sent. I look forward to meeting with you to both enjoy this Tourney and to discuss the other matter if it so pleases you.

Signed,
Lord Davos Baratheon

To Lord Quentyn Linster,

Lord Linster, I send this letter to you to announce that I am in need of your services as one of my bannermen. After the announcement by the High Septon it is my understanding that peace will need to be restored to King's Landing, due to your position with both ships and a regiment of levies I need to ask of you to raise your banner and to sail for King's Landing to keep the Faith Militant at bay and to keep the peace with your regiment of levies, a few days after you arrive I have no doubt that my son will arrive with your reinforcements, once he arrives he'll take command of this mission I have need to give out. Move with haste Lord Linster, the good of the realm depends on it.

Signed,
Lord Paramount Davos Baratheon

To the Grand Council,

After the announcement by the High Septon I have dispatched two regiments to King's Landing to keep the Faith Militant at bay and to keep the peace. The first regiment to arrive will be commanded by Lord Quentyn Linister however my son, Stannis Baratheon, will arrive soon after and take command of the combined forces to keep the peace. With luck we can avoid another Faith Uprising and the peace shall not be shattered by the greed of the High Septon.

Signed,
Davos Baratheon

To my dearest brother Tyrion Lannister,

I am sorry to have not written to you sooner and with better tidings my dearest brother, however I write to you to ask for your assistance. The High Septon has declared his treason to the realm and my husband has sent my youngest son to deal with the man and to keep the peace. I beg of you to send whatever you can to assist my son in keeping the peace and to keep him safe from the Faith Militant who I do not doubt for a moment would not hesitate to steal from me my beloved son's life. I ask also that you help me in one last issue as well. In order to assure the loyalty of the Marches my husband is contemplating selling away my only daughter, a gentle soul, to Lyonel Caron. I can not tell you why but I cannot allow my daughter to be married to that monster, please use whatever influence you have to convince Lord Bryce Caron to reconsider his demand for a marriage with House Baratheon. Again I apologize that I do not write with better tidings but I am desperate for your help my brother.

Signed,
Lady Lyanna Baratheon

PS- How does my nephew Tywin do? I hope he is well, I've heard he's such a strong man now, a good man to carry on the family name.

[Novae Vitae]

Ser Cerion Lannister
Flea Bottom, King's Landing
Day Zero

He had made his way to the tenth orphanage, his party fast-diminishing to naught but ten men, when at last the Starks arrived atop the horizon of the small hill which led to the next orphanage. They did not fly there banner, but Cerion knew them from their gruff looks and manner of walking through the streets. Even trying to blend in, they stood out, and Cerion, with Auster beside, gave a jovial call out to them.

"Dearest heathens!" he called, laughing. "I see you too arrive to guard these children." The Stark men bristled at being called heathens, but were--by all accounts--under his command, and had the discipline to remain silent.

"Do you see, people?" Cerion demanded, another crate of gold moving to the orphanage-keeper. "These heathens are here to protect you, to shield you from harm! And the Faith means to seize them--that would mean, I suppose, that the Faith means to seize your protectors."

Cerion let that thought hang in the air, but he noticed that there was enthusiasm for being guarded by heathens then there was in receiving gold from a sinner. When Cerion left two of the Stark men behind with two of his own to remain at the orphanage, he noticed the grimace of the keeper at the northerners, and Cerion knew he would not be able to keep the charade alive much longer.

But fate intervened on his behalf. The Stark banner came wheeling around the corner not long after a boy had been sent running, and Cerion saw that they brought food and gold. "More dear heathens!" Cerion called, and--either with some form of intellect or because they were genuinely amused--the men, Stark and Lannister and Baratheon, with him laughed.

Cerion then turned to the people. "More dear heathens, that the Faith means to kill!" Cerion declared to the people. "More dear heathens, with food, and gold, to help ease the pain of your poverty. Look here, citizens--the men the Faith mean to kill have come to feed you, and to ease your poverty--all the while, fat septons the country wide eat fine foreign grapes and sit on cushioned chairs, declaring these men lesser. And I ask: for feeding you, are they lesser?"

And for once, the crowd did not remain silent in awe of him. It started with a single force--a wise old man, it appeared, with a grizzled beard and pragmatic eyes. Then a youth joined him. Then a mother and her children. The selection of Flea Bottom was aloft with the cry.

"More dear heathens! Thank the gods for more dear heathens!"

Lady Joanna Lannister
Casterly Rock, the West
Day Zero

"Please, Lord Morshall," Joanna said. "Please, I don't care if it means we have to lose the war. Just . . . don't leave me waiting for a lifetime, Lord Morshall. I have been promised to you, and already I think that some small connection has arisen in these few minutes. So please, Lord Morshall--do not leave me in the war."

Joanna did not want him to leave her in the war, so it was not particularly a lie. If he left, he would fight for her enemies; if he died, he had not left.

Lord Paramount Tyrion Lannister
Casterly Rock, the West
Day Two

"I will fish his rotten guts from the deepest bowels of the seven hells to tread on them myself," Tyrion Lannister whispered. "I will drag his liver across burning coals, and run down his kidneys with the fiercest horses in my stables. His guts I will feed to my lions, and when they have finished I will anoint them in his blood!"

Tyrion Lannister was not a man wont to rage; indeed, the old lion was known to sit and recline in a cold, controlled anger and allow the world to pass by before his claws and fangs spit forth to tear what remained of his foes asunder. But now, by all the gods, he would have vengeance. This slight would not be overlooked, and his ungodly sinner of a son would not be seized while he still lived.

Tyrion held the letter from one of his informers--not from Robb nor Cerion, interestingly--tight against his body. Then, with all the rage he could manage, he tore it to shreds and tossed it into the burning hearth. He turned to Maester Rellard, whom watched him in pale surprise and silence.

"Fetch my quill and pen," Tyrion ordered. Once the maester had, Tyrion's hand moved to pen a letter, a task which he had not completed in many years. It read, in full vehement rage:

High Septon!

I, with all the contempt and avarice and despotic protestations in my power, hereby affirm to you my complete and utter rage in the mannerism by which you have conducted yourself! You may be the vicar of the gods on Earth, you fool, but for years beyond count I have fed the septons within my kingdom and built the septs in which they sleep; I have protected the silent sisters and propagated the good will of the septas. No longer! Now understand that in these actions you have condemned both my wife and my good-brother, and that I will stand steadfast beside my family; understand that I will stop at nothing to see this ridiculous proselytizing of your stupidity uprooted from the heart of this world; understand that, from this day forth, you are less to me than an ant under toe, and that I am convinced the Most Devout erred in their interpretation of the god's will--that indeed, you are not the vicar of the gods just as you are the vicar of mindless, asinine ramblings!

-signed in the fullest contempt and damnation of the stupidity which heretofore I condemn!
Tyrion Lannister, Lord Paramount of the West, Lord of Casterly Rock, Warden of the West, the Golden Lion, Ser, Husband of a Heathen, Friend of Another

When at last his ancient hand had finished its complete tirade against the High Septon, Tyrion was informed that he had received another letter, this one from his sister. He and Lyanna had not seen each other in many years; indeed, Tyrion had been swift to promise her off to the Baratheons. However, she was off his blood, and he would not see his blood scorned.

So he wrote a second letter, which read:

Dearest sister,

I apologize forthwith for any residual condemnation that you may find within the tones of my writing. I have just now concluded a scornful repose to the High Septon, damning him in entirety and denouncing my position as his benefactor, and I fear that my mind is still a tempest raging in reprise of his idiocy.

Tywin has grown to a strong, capable leader--yes. That is why it will be my intention to retain him at Casterly until such a time as it is possible to raise any army and march, should war come. I know that he desires to be king, but that would be foolish on his part; I will dissuade him from it, Sister, and ensure him that you shall be affirmed as queen when your husband ascends to the throne. So long as I draw breath, you may count on the support of House Lannister.

In regards to this suppose, I hear your pleas and I will return to the former to the fullest extends of my capacity. Lancel Lannister, Lord of Lannisport, shall be charged with riding to King's Landing with one thousand men to help maintain the peace, as I fear that Cerion may be in danger for the bastards he has fathered. I will task him specifically with aiding your son, though his command will not be yielded to Stannis.

As for the Carons, my influence is limited. Lancel's sister Jeyne is married to them in some degree I have long-since forgotten, but I fear that otherwise I cannot attest to holding power over them. But fret not, Sister--I will not leave my eastern half and her family to suffer and die while I can still act in my capacities. I will send to you Ser Loren, our nephew, whom I have granted the sword Lion's Wrath for his prowess in combat and esteem as a knight. I will charge him with guarding against those that conspire against my family--the High Septon included--and you may command him to protect Daenerys, as her shield. Perhaps the Sword of the West will deter the Carons from aggression.

I wish you well in your struggles, dearest sister. Should ill befall your or any of your children or your husband, know that the West stands staunch to defend you. Do not bother to ask: if in need, ride hard for the Rock and the lions will defend you tooth-and-nail.

-lovingly, your brother,
Tyrion

Having made what political statements where within his capacity in the writing of letters without directly infringing on the rights of those lords that were below lords to whom he had no control, Tyrion resigned himself to a nap, to cool the rage within his heart.

Ser Gerion Lannister
The Oceanroad, the West
Day Three

Having been sent forth by his father, Gerion now rode down the Oceanroad with twenty men supporting him. Jaime was all with him, and he looked particularly appealing in the armor he wore today. For his part, Gerion wore normal armor, not wishing to be taken by surprise on the way to the Reach. He knew that most bandits would evade him in the Westerlands, but he would not presume to feel safe in foreign lands.

It was late by the time Gerion called a halt. If they meant to meet at Goldengrove, Gerion would ride most of the war to Old Oak on the Oceanroad before at last turning for Goldengrove, as it would not be a challenge to ride swiftly down the roads in the Westerlands--but again, he did not presume to understand the Reach.

Riding in this manner, with Jaime about him and twenty other knigths, Gerion presumed that he would reach Goldengrove between two and four days, depending on how hard he was able to push the men, and weathering fairing well.

[Argentarino]

Quentyn Linster, Evenfall Hall, Day 1 Since Faith Militant Uprising Declared...

The same day Lord Davos sent his raven to Evenfall Hall, it arrived at its destination. Once again, the Lord and Lady Linster met, along with their marshal, a Salty Dornishman named Ser Oberyn Sand, the only bastard knight in the service of the Linsters. Deep in the Keep, where no prying eyes could venture, they had their meeting. "Ser Oberyn, this letter...is it even possible to muster our levies in such a short time?" Quentyn asked, leaning back against his chair. "Quentyn, you cannot possibly be thinking of obeying this order!" For once, Lady Jeyne Linster lost her reserve and shouted. "Think about it, Jeyne! Trust me, I don't like the order as well, but if we reject it, it will be obvious about what our motives are. We will lose all momentum, or worse, Davos will assault the island, and we'll end up like the Reynes of Castamere!" It was true, in order for their plan to work, it had to have some sort of surprise: undercurrents of animosity were the norm, it was not uncommon anywhere in Westeros for bannermen to display hidden hostility towards their liege lord; but to openly go against an order would reek of a plot about to take foot.

Before his Lord and Lady could argue more, Ser Oberyn spoke up. "My lord, it is not possible to just draw up all 1,000 of our levies, not with such short notice. So far, we have 200 of our 1,000 levies standing and ready to march. And with our 20 ships, we can only transport about 200 men, anyway. In the meantime, I can raise the rest of our levies and prepare them for whatever comes next..." "I've heard enough, thank you," Lord Quentyn said. He sighed, knowing what he had to do next. "Jeyne, you must stay here and rule over Evenfall Hall in my stead. Ser Oberyn will help you with the military. I have this one order though: do not, under any circumstances, march against the Baratheons. Patience, my lady, is what you always remind me of."

Later that day, Quentyn strapped on his armor, grabbed his sword and shield, and, with 200 Linster levies behind him, began sailing for Blackwater Bay. A letter was sent to Lord Davos:

To my Liege Lord, Davos of the House Baratheon, Lord Paramount of the Stormlands,
It is my honor, as the Lord of Evenfall Hall and head of the House of Linster, to answer your call. I will do as my lord commands me, alas, I am only able to bring with me the 200 men who have already been raised. I will do my best to keep the King's peace, even if that means treating with the High Septon and placating His Holiness. May the Seven watch over us all.

Signed,
Lord Quentyn Linster

---

Two Days Later, Port of King's Landing

Lord Quentyn Linster stared at the approaching capital from the stern of his personal vessel, The Warrior Brienne, a ship his father had named in honor of the last legitimate Tarth child before his father's father election. Lord Quentyn had never been to King's Landing, rarely having had to venture out of Evenfall Hall. But now, he was awestruck at just how right the rumors were: the massive Red Keep's towers soaring in the sky, the bell towers of the great Sept of Baelor rising above the common homes, shops, and manses in the city, the soulful pealing of the bells ringing out even now, as if to greet the young lord to the capital. But he knew that appearances were not the same as what lay underneath the grand facade. No, he knew of the game, he knew of the poverty, and he knew of the strife within the city. No, he would be prepared.

As his ships made port, he had his soldiers line up in two columns of one hundred, their tower shields emblazoned with the Linster Griffin, spears, and swords glinting in the sunlight. Lord Quentyn himself walked in between the two columns of men and shouted: "Alright, we have our orders, men! We are here to keep the peace in the capital until Lord Davos Baratheon sends reinforcements! We're all that is representing Tarth, now. You will have no other comrades from our island joining us. But," he shouted, "we are men of the Sapphire Island! One of us is ten of these pampered bastards! So fear not! We do not serve R'hollor, but we serve the Seven, the True Gods, in our duty! Now, let us move out! Escort me to the Sept of Baelor! I will break bread with the Most Holy High Sept." A simultaneous "yes sir" rose from the soldiers, and so they marched to the Sept, where Lord Quentyn hoped to keep some form of peace.

As they marched through the streets of Flea Bottom, Lord Quentyn got a bad feeling. It was the feeling of walking into a house, but feeling quite unwelcome. Paupers lined the streets; cold, yet empty stares followed the Linster men as they marched...no, they definitely were not welcome. "Men, double time!" Quentyn barked, trying to get out of the bottom of King's Landing as soon as possible. The last thing he wanted was for a fight to erupt between the civilians and his soldiers. As if the Seven had heard his prayers, the Linster force got out without a quarrel to report, and after about half an hour of marching, they encountered the Faith Militant, lined up at the steps of the Sept of Baelor. Quentyn told his men to halt, taking off his helmet as he approached the zealots. "Good afternoon, my name is Lord Quentyn of the House Linster, Lord of Evenfall Hall. May I speak with the High Septon? I trust that, as brothers in the Faith, we may share some mutual trust, so I will leave my men here, or outside of the Sept."

[Moth-Gar]

Darrik "The Hammer" Morshall, Lord of Castamere, inside of Casterly Rock

"I won't leave you , in war or peace, I will not leave you" said Darrik, who then lightly held Joanna's hand with his own. She was a beautiful girl, and Darrik was happy that she said those words, every single one of them made him happy. "If a war does start, I'll try to write to you everyday if possible" He said with a sincere voice while looking at Joanna's eyes, but then said "I must rest, Lady Joanna, I woke up very early to get here. If you can excuse me, I need to sleep". He was tired from the travel, and could no longer burden his tired body and mind, even when talking to Joanna. He let go of Joanna's hand and made his way to the door, but stopped near the door, turned his back to Joanna and said "I promise". With that, he made his way to his quarters, removed his clothes and put on more comfortable ones and laid down in the soft bed, where he slept while thinking of the future.

Later that day....
Darrik woke up around the afternoon, where the sun was nearing to set. He yawned and stood up, stretching and moving his body to energize himself. He looked out the window and saw the people below, either working or relaxing, and even saw one of his own soldiers sparring with another, a sight to behold in Casterly Rock, he thought. He removed his garments and put on some new ones, this time a black shirt over a leather vest. He walked out of his bedroom and made his way into who-knows-where. While walking, he felt hungry, but because he was in another house, he waited for dinner to start. He made his way outside in the courtyard, where his men were, and joined them in their doings. The men and Darrik shared stories and past, with one of the soldiers saying he was orphaned as a child, and another saying he didn't have a family back home. Things like these, getting to know your own soldiers, being one of them instead of a noble, felt more comfortable to Darrik, but at least he had Joanna, who hopefully will wait for him when the time comes.

Day One

Darrik woke up the next, early in the morning, with the sun just barely rising. He stood up and prepared his things, double checked on them to see if he had forgotten any, he didn't. He wore his armor and clothes and his Longsword sheathed in his back. He walked out of his room and went outside, where his men were waiting for him, the van ready to move. He gave one of the servants a letter to be given to Lord Tywin and possibly Lord Tyrion, with the contents saying

To my Liege Lords, the Lannisters
It was graceful of your house to show me such kindness, and I would definitely be honored to lead the Van in your house's name. I will not forget my duties and promise, as long as my Lords will fulfill their promises to me
Thank you again, from Lord Darrik Morshall of Castamere.

With that, he moved out with his men and rode to Castamere to prepare for the war.

[Nuxipal]

The High Septon "The Blacksmith"
Great Sept of Baelor, 1 Day after the Decree

---

---

"I did Brother Jacerys. I need you to go to your Kinsman, Rhaegar, and convince him to aid in the apprehension of the remaining Grand Council members. They have been in their positions for too long and have done too little to find a new King. Notify your kinsman that a new King is the most essential element if we are to keep Westeros from fracturing into the warring states that dominated the period before Targaryen rule." Dismissing the Septon, the High Septon then turned to his scribe. Bring me the letters of frustration that the lords of the realm have sent in.

He set himself down on a wooden chair and began to write letters to the more prominent lords of the Faithful whom had sent letters to him.

To: Tyrion Lannister, Lord Paramount of the West, Lord of Casterly Rock, Warden of the West, the Golden Lion, Ser, Husband of a Heathen, Friend of Another

Lord Tyrion, Your devotion to the faith has never been questioned before now. Your Declaration is a damning act before the gods and one which you will answer to the Father when your time comes. You claim to be Husband to a Heathen, however, unlike the followers of the Red God, the Starks and the others of the North are not all lost to us. Among their number are many of the Faithful and there has not been a war between the Old Gods and the Seven since long before the Conquest. The followers of the Red God seek nothing more than to burn our people in sacrifice and the followers of the Drowned God would have us give them our women and children as sacrifices to their perverted religion. By comparison, the Old Gods which your wife worships are tame and nearly civil. Should you continue on your path, when Judgement is passed, you will be deemed unworthy and burn in the fires of the seven hells. Instead, be the Lion of the West as the Lannisters of Old were. Throw the Fire Worshipers back to Essos and bring holy justice to the Ironborn. Of all the Lords of the realm, none have built for the faith as you have. I can say that your letter has wounded me on a personal level and I do hope that you see that my call to arrest the Grand Council is justified. A Kingdom needs a King, and the Council has not budged from its current state in three years. My own member of the Council reports that there is hardly any discussion regarding the candidates now. When the new council convenes and determines a new King that King will decide how to punish traitors to his realm. Until then, the Faith must step in and guard the Realm which has brought our faith to so many corners of this world.


-Seven Blessings Upon You and Yours,
The High Septon

---

Lord Daeron Blackfyre
The Hightower, Oldtown, The Reach, 1 Day After the Decree

---

---

In the Hightower, Lord Daeron continues his studies. He summons his son Jacaerys up to the study in the early morning. It had only been a day since Lord Redwyne had been given Vigilance and a betrothal between Jacaerys and Desmera Redwyne had been created. Without his intervention, Jacaerys had solidified the alliance between House Blackfyre and House Redwyne for two generations. As Jace entered the study however, this was not the topic that Daeron wished to speak to him about. The city had grown since the Second Long Night, and its walls were in need of some repair and a new set of walls could be erected to create a larger protected area for the city to grow into. Additionally, the Hightower's defenses could be upgraded.

"My son, I know you have been reading up on Rhaegal. Do you feel ready enough to mount him yet?" Daeron asked. He was extremely curious due to his studies of the book he found in the vault. "I believe I could do it, but I'd need a few days to prepare Rhaegal for it. Give me three days where no one but me goes to see the Dragon, feeds the dragon, or is near the Sept of the Dragon. After that, on the Fourth Day, I will mount him." Jacaerys was confident. He had read everything there was to know about Rhaegal, the dragon was a monster compared to its size during the Long Night. "Good.. Good.." Daeron replied, his face still buried in his book. "I may have discovered something.. and I'll need Dragon fire for it. You know those dark stones at the base of the Hightower? The ones where the vaults lie and the maze is?"

Nodding to his father's question, Jacaerys replied "Of course father.." Looking up, "Good, those stones are strong and we can make stones similar to those, though I dare say that we could do a better job. The process they describe here seems like a process that could create the spiraling and flowing shapes that our ancestors of Valyria made. If that is the case, we could be onto a new golden age of building here. We could expand the Castle to cover more of Battle Island. The Key is Rhaegal. I need you to get Rhaegal."

After a brief conversation afterwards, Jacaerys descends the steps to prepare himself to face Rhaegal to fulfill his father's wishes. Before he does however, he sends a letter to the Arbor for his betrothed.

To My Betrothed, Desmera Redwyne,

As your father may have told you, an agreement has been made in which we both shall wed to bring our houses together in alliance. I understand that you enjoy reading, as such I have also sent a ship bearing a chest of books for you to read. I had them brought from the Citadel. There are a range of topics, from the Second Long Night to the Histories of the Seven Kingdoms. I look forward to the day in which we are wed and are able to look upon our first child.

Sincerely,

Lord Jacaerys Blackfyre

---

Lord Commander Viserys Blackfyre
The Red Keep, Kings Landing, 1 Day After the Decree

---

---

With the Decree by the High Septon, the Kingsguard was summoned to the Throne Room. While Catlyn Tully had been married to Aegon VII, she was no longer. Nor was she the mother of the sitting ruler. Instead, she was simply a Lady at court in the eyes of the Lord Commander. Upon gathering the six others in the Throne Room they sat and discussed the future of the Kingdom. They discussed each of the Candidates and then promptly decided that their duty was to guard the Throne, not the claimants. However, a strong argument had been made by several members for Rhaegar. After all, he had been born to a Queen who had a claim on the throne itself and was fostered by King Edric. The sent ravens out to the Lords Paramount.

To Lords Paramount of Westeros,

The Kingsguard, sworn to defend the King and his family, have determined that with no living member of the Stormfyre family remaining, and the president set at the Great Council of 101, that being that a woman can not inherit the throne when there are male claimants, that we will be defending the Throne itself, until such a time as the Lords Paramount themselves each have sent a Raven to us declaring the next King. No Council has ever taken three years to determine such a thing. I however, believe that in this troubled time, we need to set aside the old Grand Council, and have each of the Lords Paramount chose a new Representative to send to Kings Landing to rule along with the Hand of the King. This was used to great success in the regency of King Aegon III when he ascended to the throne at the age of eleven. I wish to hear from each of the Lords Paramount soon.

-Lord Commander of the Kingsguard Viserys Blackfyre

With the letter sent off, the Kingsguard now guarded the throne room. They would no longer allow anyone to enter its halls except for the Small Council and Hand of the King to hold court. A letter was sent to the Hand requesting that he hold court soon to deal with the succession crisis immediately.

[Elepis]

Master of Law's apartments, Red Keep, King's Landing

"Lord" Martyn Sand, Master of Laws, the "Sand Snake"
Two Days

"Fuck!" shouted Martyn, the dagger's long, thin blade wobbled as it struck the door but remained in place. Ser Joffrey Sand, the captain of Martyn's guards sat next to him, wearing his yellow enameled breastplate which he always seemed to wear. Behind Joffrey stood Quentyn Sand, wearing an orange and black slashed doublet. Martyn stood up an pulled the dagger from the door. "The Baratheons are marching on the city. There fleet will be here within five days." He threw the dagger again, this time it embedded itself in the middle of the table. Martyn walked over to window of the tower solar and looked over the Keep, towards Maegor's Holdfast and on to the crystal towers of the Great Sept of Bealor where a rebel High Septon commanded an army of religious fanatics.

Ser Joffrey took the message from the table. " The first regiment to arrive will be commanded by Lord Quentyn Linister however my son, Stannis Baratheon, will arrive soon after and take command of the combined forces to keep the peace. With luck we can avoid another Faith Uprising and the peace shall not be shattered by the greed of the High Septon." He read allowed. He then put the message down and drank a cup of wine. "He might just want to keep the peace, a rebel High Septon, commanding his religion be destroyed can't be good for him, or House Baratheon"

"No" Quentyn said, picking at the sleeve of his doublet. "Once the Baratheon men arrive, the city will be theirs. They will fill the Red Keep with there men and the Grand Council will vote and they will suddenly have made a unanimous decision. To crown Davos Baratheon king. Anyone who speaks against them may come down with a sudden case of sword-through-bowls. This is not a rescue party that is sailing down Shipbreaker Bay, it is a coronation party."

Martyn turned from the window and pushed his dark hair out of his eyes. "Quentyn is correct. But that is not the end of it. Lord Davos Baratheon will crown himself 'King of the Andals, Rhoynar and First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm' but it will be a lie. He will only be king of the Stormlands and King's Landing. Rheagar Nymeros-Martell-Targaryen will rally the Crownlands and possibly the Vale to him, he will ask my sister as well but I doubt he will get a quick response. Lord Lannister will raise the Westerlands and the Reach against Storm's End and Tully will call the Riverlands to arms. Soon we will have a War of the Four Kings and the realm will burn. If we stay here we will not make it through in one piece." Martyn picked up his dagger and put it in his belt. "Joffrey, tell my sailors to be ready to sail in five days or so. Begin bringing some more men and goods back from the Red Manse." he said. He then turned to Quentyn "Send a raven to Sunspear. Tell my sister to prepare to put some three thousand or so men in the Boneway and Prince's Pass. Tell Lord Yronwood to prepare the Eastern Marches for war. I need to find Queen Tully, she has over a thousand men in the city and she can act as a counter balance to a Baratheon force in the city. " With that he and the other two men left the solar and began preparing for the coming storm.

[Nasaira]

RED KEEP, TYLAR ARRYN

The entire city waited to see which if anyone would be the first to order an attack. Keeping the peace was a difficult task and one that many was interested in. Lord Arryn arrived at the Red Keep and inspected the 500 men that he was in charge due to his position as master of war. But 500 men compared to what the High Septon could muster was nothing more then a drop in a bucket, and if the High Septon ordered the faith militant to storm the Red Keep they more then likely would succeed in their attack.

Tylar had his family in Kings Landing with the thought that there might be an uprising that would certainly lead to death. The very thought sent a chill down his spine. A coordinated defense is what was needed but every other lord and garrison commander had their idea on how the Red Keep should be defended and how to deal with the High Septon. In this situation peace is what would be best but the rashness of a few lords could destroy the delicate peace.

Lord Arryn walked the ramparts inspected each defensive structure and ensuring that it was properly manned. Being diligent in his duties as master of war Lord Arryn was putting the safety of the grand council as his priority.





Tyrell Manse, Tarla Arryn

The youngest child of Lord Arryn she was the light in her fathers eyes. Of course Lord Arryn loved his son Ashter but due to him being slow knew that he would never become head of the house and that responsibility fell to Tarla. Every since she could remember tutors and maesters have been at her side teaching her the ways of the world. She had been groomed for command, learning everything that a noble heir would have learned.

The excitement of the High Septon's decree had caused fear to engulf the women and some of the men but it did not bother Tarla. She had always been brave never showing fear, a quality that her father loved about her. Now under the protection of the lady Alena Tyrell, Lord Arryn's betrothed. Tarla hadn't spoken much with the lady Aleana and did not know much about her other the. She was suppose to marry her father.

Tarla tugged at the dress of the lady Alena:
" where if father? And when will you two be married?"

Tarla asked with the innocence of a child:
" you shouldn't be afraid father will protect us"

[Kuwat]

Goldengrove, The Reach, 2 Days After the Decree

Lord Daeron Rowan

As Daeron read all of the ravens coming out of King's Landing, he knew that the fragile peace that had been ruling in westeros for the past few years was about to be broken. And if the Lord of the Stormlands has his way, and no one stops him from marching on the Red Keep, he will undoubtedly crown himself and take the iron throne. Daeron also knows that is liege lord in Highgarden is very likely to declare for the Lannister claimant, who has no claim to the throne and has no right to be the King of the Seven Kingdoms. That is why Daeron quickly starts writing messages to all of his allies within the Reach, the Redwynes, Oakhearts, Ashfords, and Footlys, warning them of the coming conflict and asking them to join him in declaring that they support Rhaegar Targaryen's claim to the throne.

To: Lord Redwyne of the Arbor

I write to you in the utmost haste, it seems that the council has failed to name a new king, and it is this lack of action that has given the Lannister and Baratheon claimants the opportunity to press their unfounded claims on the Iron Throne. I do believe that you share the seem distrust of the Baratheons of Storm's End as I do, giving they ignored the Ironborn invasion of the Arbor for years. That is why I am asking you to join me in backing the one and only legitimate claimant to the Iron Throne, Rhaegar Targaryen of Dragonstone. Also I would like to ask when the wedding of Ser Desmond and my sister lady Elinor will take place, I hope it is soon, because many things could happen in the coming conflict. I look forward to your reply.

Lord Daeron Rowan, Lord of Goldengrove, Warden of the Northmarch.

Soon three more messages similar to the one written to Lord Redwyne were send to Old Oak, Tumbleton, and Ashford, all asking the same thing, that they all join Lord Rowan in backing the Targaryen claim on the Throne, and that they prepare their forces for war. Next Daeron wrote to the one man he believes to be the True King of the Seven Kingdoms, Rhaegar Targaryen himself,

To Lord Rhaegar Targaryen of Dragonstone,

Lord Taregaryen I write to you with the most important matter, it is seeming that the High Seaton's actions have ended the peace that has ruled over westeros, and now the forces of Lord Baratheon are marching on King's Landing, and I doubt It will not be to long before the armies of the Lannisters and the Tyrells will be on the move as well. In response to this, I would like to offer you my support in your effort to take the Iron Throne, for has you are the rightful heir after the death of King Aegon VIII. Also I have called upon my allies within the Reach, asking them to follow my lead and swear fealty to you, as the rightful King of the Andals, Rhoynar, and First Men. I await your reply.

Lord Daeron Rowan of Goldengrove.

After the last Raven was sent, Lord Daeron called for his Master at Arms, he had an army to raise.

[Lorellion]

Queen Catelyn Stormfyre
King's Landing
The Red Keep

Queen Catelyn looked up from the letters the High Septon and Davos Baratheon had sent when Trevas Waters entered her solar. She set them gently upon her desk and cleared her throat. "Lord Trevas, I full-heartedly agree with you. The High Septon needs to be brought to justice for his crimes of treason. However, he is beloved by the people. If I arrest him, the people will riot and we need them on our side..." Or we could just wait for the Baratheons to enter the city... No that's foolish. Once they get here, Davos will have effectively taken over King's Landing. Catelyn stood up.

"But he must be arrested. Tell your men to be prepared. I will solve this problem here and now." She had to be the one to end this problem or she would lose control of the city. She nodded to her brother who was standing by the door. "Fetch your daughter. I have a plan." Brynden looked reluctant, but he nodded and left the room. Catelyn looked to one of her handmaidens. "And you, have this posted over the city."

By Order of the Grand Council:

In light of his crimes against the realm, the High Septon is hereby named a traitor. Instead of assisting the Grand Council with trying to find a ruler, he has attempted to start a rebellion. Instead of being the voice of the Seven, he has tried to seize power. Westeros deserves better than this sad excuse for a septon. We call upon the citizens of King's Landing to bring him to justice before he brings war to our realm. The first man or woman who brings the High Septon to justice shall be given a title and named the Representative of the People on the Grand Council.

Signed,

Queen Catelyn Stormfyre

Catelyn signed her name proudly and smirked at her handiwork. With this order, she would raise the people against the High Septon and end this foolish war before it began.

Daena Rivers
King's Landing
Flea Bottom

Daena Rivers, the daughter of Brynden Tully, stood in the main district of Flea Bottom with her aunt's notice clutched in her hand. She had been summoned to her aunt's solar where she had been told the plan. She was to pose as a commoner and read off the notice to the citizens of King's Landing. It was supposed to rouse them in rebellion and then Daena was supposed to lead them to the Sept of Baelor where they would riot. Daena looked down at herself and was barely recognizable. She was wearing dirty brown rags, her feet were bare, her face was covered with dirt, and her golden blonde hair fell across her shoulders in an untidy fashion. Below her tunic, she carried a dagger, but she missed her sword.

Daena cleared her throat and walked to the center of the square where a raised pulpit had been built. She ascended the steps and held up the official notice from the Grand Council. In the best commoner accent she could muster, she began to read:

"In light of his crimes against the realm, the High Septon is hereby named a traitor. Instead of assisting the Grand Council with trying to find a ruler, he has attempted to start a rebellion. Instead of being the voice of the Seven, he has tried to seize power. Westeros deserves better than this sad excuse for a septon. We call upon the citizens of King's Landing to bring him to justice before he brings war to our realm. The first man or woman who brings the High Septon to justice shall be given a title and named the Representative of the People on the Grand Council.

Signed,

Queen Catelyn Stormfyre."

She paused and looked out at the commoners. "Isn't the High Septon supposed to protect us? Defend us? Feed us?" There were mutters of agreement among the crowd. "The answer is yes! But instead, this joke of a septon has decided to start a war. When war comes to Westeros, it is US that get trampled. It is US that go hungry! IT IS US THAT DIE!" She heard cheers throughout the crowd.

"The High Septon is supposed to be the voice of the Gods. Our protector. But instead, he is no better than a scheming lord looking for power. But we are not going to take that! Our good queen, the widow of King Aegon, has offered a lordship to the first man who brings her the High Septon! She has promised us a representative on the Grand Council! We will not wait for someone to solve our problems for us. It is time we take matters into our own hands."

"For once in our lives, let us forget the lords. Let us forget the kings. We fight for ourselves. For our mothers, our fathers, our children, our friends. We fight for our city. Let us bring this scoundrel to JUSTICE!" The crowd was wild now. Without another word, she descended the steps and started for the Sept of Baelor, an army at her back. When they reached the steps of the Sept, she screamed at the top of her lungs.

"High Septon! It is time you answer for your crimes!"

[Krugmar]

Lady Desmera Redwyne
Vine Keep, the Arbor - Three days after the Decree

---

Desmera read the letter over several times, before looking at her sister in complete confusion. "What betrothal? I don't understand" she said, turning her attention to the letter once again. The shipment of books hadn't arrived yet, but the Raven had flown much quicker than the ship, though it would likely arrive tomorrow.

"Father must have negotiated it in Oldtown, though they must have given him something valuable in return. Do not worry sister, I hear in Oldtown they have a book on every subject, and Maesters for you to test your knowledge against" said Denyse, comforting her sister.

"Yes, I suppose that is right..." replied Desmera, losing herself to an image of the Hightower and the books that likely filled its halls.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Write your reply!" said Denyse, pushing her sister to her feet and guiding her over to the table.

To My Betrothed, Lord Jacaerys Blackfyre

You are too kind to send me such a gift, truly I am blessed to be promised to one such as you. I too look forward to our wedding, and the future that we shall spend together. I am pleased to know that our Houses may be friends once more. Though truly I am overwhelmed at the possibility of seeing Oldtown and living within the Hightower, the excitement truly is too much.

When may I ask is our wedding to take place? For knowing the date would surely calm some of my rogue nerves.

Sincerely,

Lady Desmera Redwyne

---

Ser Mathis Redwyne
King's Landing, The Red Keep - Two days after the Decree

---

Mathis stood at the docks, talking to several of the captains. They had all heard about the decree, and since sailors were often sinful people in the eyes of the gods they were extremely worried. "It just doesn't seem right, the High Septon pullin' a move like this" said Captain Eldon, a portly man respected by his crew for his kind demeanor and rewarding attitude.

"No, but it does seem normal, we had best be careful" said Captain Theomar Flowers, a young bastard from the Reach who was one of the many new captains put in place by Ryam. "Perhaps have the fleet ready to set sail if needs be?" he proposed.

"Yes, that is the best course of action, wouldn't you agree Mathis?" said Ser Addam of Greyshield, a minor knight who aided Ryam, and currently Mathis, in leading the Royal Fleet and organising the sailors.

"I agree, and if any ask it is for training purposes. We will want to keep this on the down low" replied Mathis, before he grabbed his belonging and left the conversation. The captains quickly returned to their various ships while Ser Addam and six Blue Cloaks followed Mathis back to the Red Keep.

---

Lord Ryam Redwyne
Sailing to King's Landing - 4 days after the Decree

---

Ryam read the letter with a mixture of distaste, and amusement. He shook his head, before ordering the ships raven master to ready a raven and bring him a quill and some paper.

To Lord Daeron Rowan, Lord of Goldengrove, Warden of the Northmarch.

I would urge you to keep quiet for now and wait for events to unfold, though know that I will support you and your choice in the future. I see Rhaegar Targaryen as a strong choice, one who I can truly support. However, if you declare now while I am not in the capital we risk losing the Royal Fleet. I shall gather my allies as you gather yours, do not strike, simply prepare.

As for the marriage, I feel it is not the right time to hold a lavish ceremony or feast that we can both attend, but I will send word to my son to have the marriage ceremony beginas soon as possible, to strengthen our alliance.

signed, Lord Ryam Redwyne, Lord of the Arbor, Grand Admiral of Westeros, Lord Admiral of the Reach and Master of Ships of the Small Council.

He signed the letter and handed it to the man, who attached it to a raven and sent it flying off.

[Alotopia]

Lord Mace Tyrell
Highgarden

Lord Mace was pacing back and forth through his study thinking about the state of the realm and the Reach... He had received a raven from Lord Davos Baratheon asking for his support for the Crown. Lord Davos had the Baratheon blood of King Robert and Stannis, and was an excellent choice. But the R'hollr religion was the only thing that could be a problem... That was a side note tho.

While he was contemplating this, his wife Cassana entered and gave him a hug. "Honey, you are going to walk a hole in the floor! What do you worry about?" she said in a playful manner...

Mace spoke softly to his wife, "Your familiy, Lord Davos, has asked for the Reach's support for the Throne. I am worried about the vassals and what they would do if we declared... And as much as I would like Tywin Lannister to become King, his father would never let him. Tyrion is not a bold man and is much like Tywin Lannister during the War of the Five Kings. Doing everything for his house and ensuring their survival..."

Cassana supports her family and spoke with purpose, "You are the Lord Paramount of the Reach! You have the largest army in the Realm. You should support my familiy!" She said smiling, almost laughing at her speech.

"I will have to see what the Blackfyres and Redwynes think of this. They are powerful and hold a lot of sway over the vassals." Mace said as he began sat down to pen several messages to Lords across the Reach...

To Lord Daeron Blackfyre, Lord of The Hightower.

Dear Lord Blackfyre, I wish to speak with you about your opinions on who the Reach should support for King. You are an influential man and I wish to hear your council before the Reach would declare for anyone. The Blackfyres have been supportive of the Tyrells since you were given Oldtown, and I believe it is important to listen to my Lords. I will be riding for Oldtown later today, and will arrive within the next three days. I will also be sending a raven to Lord Ryam of the Arbor explaining the same thing.

Signed, Lord Paramount Mace Tyrell, Lord of Highgarden, and Warden of the South.

He sealed the letter and sent it to Oldtown. He quickly penned a letter to Ser Desmond who was Lording over the Arbor in Ryam's absence...

Ser Desmond of the Arbor,

I wish to invite you to Oldtown to meet with myself and Lord Daeron about who the Reach should support for King. The Redwynes and the Arbor have always been loyal vassals to my family and I wish to hear their input in this matter. We are deciding who our men will possibly die for and I wish to make an informed decision. I will arrive at Oldtown within the next three days and I expect to see you there.
Signed, Lord Paramount Mace Tyrell, Lord of Highgarden, and Warden of the South.

He sealed this letter also, and sent it to the Arbor. Mace didn't know what to expect when he would arrive, but he had to be ready for everything...

An Hour Later
Mace and his party set out for Oldtown, in tow was ten Lord's Guard, Ser Beryl, Ser Oderis Tyrell, and thirty Highgarden Knights. They would arrive within days and Mace hoped the Lords would be accepting to him and his party...

Lady Alena Tyrell
King's Landing

Lady Alena was tending to the children when Tarla, at least she thought that was her name, began tugging on her dress. The little girl asked where her father was and when they were to be married...

Alena softly spoke, "Your father is trying to protect the Grand Council from the High Septum who has called for their arrest. He will be back soon." She smiled, little girls were her favorite, even though these where not her children... "I'm not sure when we are going to be married now. We were planning on getting married in the Sept here in King's Landing, but with everything going on, I doubt it now. Maybe in the Vale..."

After responding Tarla spoke again, saying not to be afraid. Alena smiled again, "I'm not afraid young one. Your father is a good man and would protect us, but he is not here. So now we rely on our bannermen and Ser Barristan..."

Ser Barristan Tyrell
King's Landing Docks

As Mathis responded, Ser Barristan was happy that even in the capital the Tyrells had allies.

"I appreciate your support Ser Mathis, you have gained an ally today. If it gets dangerous, I will arrive with myself, my cousin, and Lord Arryn's children. We will sail for Gulltown. Thank you again Ser Mathis."

Ser Barristan then made his way back to the Tyrell Manor...

OOC: Everything in this has been approved by the players themselves via telegram.

[Nuxipal]

Lord Jacaerys Blackfyre
The Hightower, Oldtown, 2 Days after Decree

---

---

Jacaerys was in the yard when the news of a pair of Ravens for him had arrived. He was training a group of boys, between the ages of 11 and 14, to fight with sword and shield. They were from the local orphanage and had all been selected to be trained as soldiers for House Blackfyre. Many of the men guarding the city of Oldtown were trained in similar fashion. "Lord Jacaerys, Raven from the Arbor and another from Highgarden." Ser Harrold announced as he walked out onto the grassy area. Being outside the Hightower was always a dizzying feeling as the tower seemed to stretch into the sky forever. It was in fact the tallest structure in Westeros, even taller than the Wall. The time of day could be told simply by watching its shadow move over the city.

Jacaerys read through the letter from the Arbor and smiled. However, reading the second letter, he was less happy. While he fostered at Highgarden he grew close with the Tyrells. However, they did not know that Daeron had retreated into the upper levels of the tower and was refusing to do any of the actual ruling. "Make ready a large room for Lord Paramount Mace and space for his usual entourage. I will continue with the training here and will write to Lady Desmera after supper tonight. Also, send for my aunt. She was married once, she will know how to best plan for this wedding."

With that the Steward of the Hightower left Jacaerys in the yard and began ascending the Hightower again. The enormous structure stretching out above him. They really needed to send for more Ravens from the Citadel and have them trained to fly to different floors and to the ground level of the tower. Perhaps even a maester for each area.

---

The High Septon "The Blacksmith"
Great Sept of Baelor, 2 Days after the Decree

---

---

The appearance of six hundred and fifty Gold Cloaks in Cobbler's Square wasn't unusual. The Square was flanked by the West Barracks. Perhaps they were out to keep the peace as thousands of people flooded into the capital from the surrounding lands. It was a mixture of wandering priests, sparrows, and Poor Fellows. There were also many hundreds of smallfolk arriving to answer the High Septon's Call.

However, the more pressing issue was the mob of small folk, perhaps 2,000 strong, approaching the gates of the Great Sept. When one of them cried out for the Septon to answer for his crimes the keeper at the gate answered simply, "What imagined slights has the Most Holy committed? All of you have seen the taxes that the Grand Council are force feeding the realm. You have seen how they cling to their position instead of completing the job set before them by the realm. The apparent leader of the corruption is none other than Catlyn Tully, a woman whom claimed to love our deceased king. A woman who now tries to usurp the throne from his cold corpse."

As he spoke, many of the smallfolk were dispersing. However, a significant number remained. He knew some that remained were actually sparrows. They were everywhere in the city and he would give them their orders, "The woman there, who shouted for the death of the High Septon, has committed crimes against the gods. Seize her and bring her in for trial." Almost as if by magic, four sets of hands grabbed Daena from behind. If she looked around she'd now see four black robed men forcing her forward towards the closed gate. The sudden seizure of their leader disheartens some of the smallfolk, enrages others, but over all creates a sense of confusion. She is turned and knelt before the crowd. Atop the walls crossbowmen appear.

"Woman, what is your name?"

[Moth-Gar]

Darrik "The Hammer" Morshall, Lord of Castamere, Castamere Castle

Day One

The Day was still early, maybe around noon time when Darrik arrived at the outskirts of Castamere, where the then-old and abandoned castle was crumbling and a shell of its former self, until Darrik's father restored it to some degree of its old glory. The sun was covered by the clouds, but the heat was still ever present, where the men and Darrik himself were sweating a bit. The guards on top of the walls saw the group of Darrik's in the horizon, who later shouted to each other for the gates to be opened and let the Lord of Castamere in, where the siblings Tesha and Derrik were waiting along with Luras Chaffton, Drack Woodfoot, and Alberet Salver.

The men of Darrik rode in two lanes with Darrik in the middle and in front of the group. The soldiers in the Castle formed 2 lines parallel to each other, saluting as Darrik and his men rode pass them. Discipline, respect and strength were instilled in the men of Darrik thanks to Alberet, who was a stern man in general but also loyal and friendly on a personal level.

Tesha and Derrik ran towards Darrik as he got down his horse, where he lifted them up in the air, making them laugh and giggle as he was carrying them. He then put them down after a while of carrying them, where he then approached and hugged Luras and shook the hands of Alberet and Drack. A happy reunion indeed, but unfortunately, Darrik has some issues that needs attending, immediately.

Later in the afternoon, in the small council chamber of Castabere
"So, a war eh? Plus you swore allegiance to the Lannisters in exchange for a betrothal? You've been busy my lord" said Alberet, his captain of the guards and master-at-arms. "Aye, I was, but now, we need to prepare" answered back Darrik, who was a bit concerned about the war. "Don't worry my lord, our gold and silver mines are productive as it is, plus our men are well trained, what's there to worry?" asked Luras, his Maester and close adviser and friend, the man who tutored him alongside his own father. "I'm worried for our house and how we'll fare in this war, mainly because we are a young house" said Darrik. "But we have as much potential as the other houses, maybe even more" said Alberet, steward of House Morshall, who continued with "Our mines are rich and the workers diligent, your house , my lord, will be rich very quickly".

Darrik was silent, apparently satisfied with their answers, and then nodded and motioned for them to leave the room, where he was then left alone to wonder about the future.

[Givious]

Lord Rhaegar Targaryen
King's Landing
0 Days

Rheagar tore through the streets, the horse creating a loud sound as its hooves beat against the cobbled walkways. Many people stared, whispering to themselves. Rhaegar was an old man, a decreped man, yet here he was riding his horse, tearing through the streets. As Rhaegar arrived at his manse, he finds his men preparing. He quickly delivers his orders to the men, and they set about to their orders. Two of the men ride off to rally those men not living at the manse, many less than a days ride away from the capital at Rhaegar's Holdfast in the Crownlands. Another three immediately mounted their horses and rode for the Red Keep, to meet Ser Brandon and his men. The remaining five men followed Rhaegar, who was handed a Standard with the Targaryen flag flying at the end of it. He and his guard then tore down the streets, towards the Stark Manor. Upon arriving, Rhaegar handed the standard to Ser Maegor.

"Tell lord Stark that I will have a seat saved for him at the small council, and that his people are welcome within the Hall of the Red Keep. This standard will protect all those that are with him, as an assault upon them is an assault upon the Hand of the King"

Without another word Rhaegar and his men were off, galloping through the streets towards the Red Keep. People stared at Rhaegar, who had changed while at his manor. Instead of the mourning clothes, or old bulking clothing people were used to seeing him in he was dressed in armor, a cuirass across his chest that displayed the three headed Dragon, behind it a Sun and spear. Across the front he wore a black sash with red trimming, giving him a dark look other than his white hair and purple eyes. However the most powerful piece he was wearing wasn't armor or a sword, it was a small pin of a hand on his sash. As Rhaegar approached the Red Keep, he found Brandon and his men waiting at the gates and in the courtyard.

"Lord Hand," Brandon shouted. "Lord Arryn has rallied the men of the Red Keep, Lord Robar has yet too..." Rhaegar holds his hand in the air as he rides past Brandon, who silences himself. Rhaegar, seeing Tylar on the ramparts yells to him.

"Lord Arryn! Rally the remaining thousand men of the Red Keep, and put them on the walls! No one enters unless the bear the sigil of the Grand Council or House Targaryen!"

Again, Rhaegar turns his horse and rides into the middle baily of the castle. Here he finds Ser Darkholme approaching, to which Rhaegar rides up to him. "Ser Robar, I hereby put you under the command of Tylar Arryn, Master at Arms and Master of War." As Robar attempts to stammer out something Rhaegar cuts him off. "He has your first orders, on the ramparts. Hurry along."

As the commander of the Gold Cloaks looks dumbfounded, Rhaegar dismounts his steed and enters the Tower of the Hand. Upon reaching the top he pulls out a pen and ink, calling for parchment which is brought. He has two letters before him, all hand written by himself. As he is finishing the final letter there is a knock on the door, and Jacerys enters.

"I wouldn't of thought I would find you here father..." Jacerys looks around the room as he talks. Cobwebs and dust gather on many of the things in the room. His father quickly cuts him off.

"Has his most holy sent you?"

"He... he has." Jacerys is taken aback by his fathers insult to the High Septon. "There really is no reason too..."

"What," Rhaegar finally looks up from his letter at his son. "Mock the man that may have just thrown this Kingdom in a civil war?"

"The High Septon wishes to drive out those who..."

"Believe differently?" The poison could be sensed in Rhaegar's words. "Son, you are a pious man. You are a good man. But you and all of your order is not as smart as you think you are. What evidence do you have of the Seven, hmmm? Stories told from grandfather to father to son over hundreds of generations? Everyday miracles around us that we cannot explain? The Red Priests can summon magic, they can being people to life, and bring demons to life. They can grand visions through flames. The Old gods still live through the weirwoods. All these religions have their ways of showing life from their gods, yet all we have is a man wearing a crystal crown on a high hill saying that he is the only one the gods speak to, and only his gods are the true ones." Rhaegar hands one of the letters to his son. "If enough people believe something, than it is true."

With this Jacerys angerily exits the room, carrying a message for the High Septon. With a sigh Rhaegar calls for the Grand Maester, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, Master of War, and the Commander of the Gold Cloaks. Without knowing where Jaecerys was, Rhaegar gave out his second letter to the men around him, which the Grand Maester would copy and send to the lords of the realm.

High Septon,

It is with a heavy heart that I write this letter to you from the chambers of the Hand of the King. You have called for the arrest and trial of the grand council, something I both agree with and disagree with. The Grand Council has failed the realm, both in its inability to select a new king but as well as its failure to properly rule the Seven Kingdoms during these last three years. Although I agree with your statement that the council must be suspended, any trial will not be held within the Great Sept, but before the Iron Throne once a King sits upon it. There crimes are not against the Seven Gods, but against the Seven Kingdoms. Against the Lord, against the Knight, against the farmer, and against the beggar. As the Hand of King Aegon VII, I hereby declare an end to the reign of the Grand Council. All members will be put into the custody of the small council in the Red Keep, and the small council will take over the ruling of the realm until a Great Council can be convened. That time will be in a little over a fortnight, paid for by both myself and Lord Davos Baratheon, to show that the realm is not going to fracture into a war. If the faith wishes to help support this endeavor, I would gladly accept.

May the Seven guide us all,

Rhaegar Nymeros-Martell Targaryen

To the Lords of the Seven Kingdoms,

I, Rhaegar Nymeros-Martell Targaryen, son of Daenerys Targaryen and Quentyn Martell, half brother and Hand to King Aegon VII, declare that the Grand Council of the Seven Kingdoms has failed in its directive to select a new King, and hereby put them into the custody of the small council of King Aegon VII, who will lead this Kingdom until a new king can be selected. This selection will coincide with a tourney, planned by myself and Lord Paramount Davos Baratheon, as a showing that war will not engulf this realm as it did during the War of Nine Kings. This tourney will be the grandest of all in recent time, and will include in a forthnight's time the opening ceremony of a squire's tourney, the winner being presented with a knighthood and 5,000 Gold Dragons. The tourney will also include an Archery Competition, a Grand Melee, and a Jousting tournament. With two positions in the Kingsguard needing to be filled, these will be gifted to Knights who the Grand Council see as deserving. The winner of the Archery Competition will receive 15,000 Gold Dragons, winner of the Grand Melee and Joust will both receive 25,000 Gold Dragons and a secret prize which will be unveiled the opening day. We request all lords attend, and all men of knightly status to raise their arms and show the people of westeros that we will not fight on a battlefield, but on a tourney ground.

For the Kingdom,
Rhaegar Nymeros-Martell Targaryen, Hand of the King and Regent to the Iron Throne

With the letter's signed Rhaegar gives the orders, and quickly Gold Cloaks and Men at Arms descend on Maegor's Holdfast, quickly capturing multiple members of the Grand Council. All members save Cerion Lannister and Brandon Ryswell were captured, the Queen still in her quarters was kept there until Rhaegar could approach her. The Keep was locked down, Rhaegar not knowing what reactions will be. Anyone inside the keep was now at the mercy of Rhaegar and his supporters. Rhaegar's family was moved into the keep to protect them, within the hour Rhaegar had control, and was sitting in the throne room before the Iron Throne on a small chair. He awaits what is to come.

[Elepis]

Throne Room, Red Keep, King's Landing

"Lord" Martyn Sand, Master of Laws, the "Sand Snake"
0 Days

"All hail the King of the Andals, Rhoynr and First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and protector of the realm. Long may he reign. A long time since we heard that, ah. But how much longer to wait?" said Martyn as he entered the throne room. At his back stood ten Martell household guards. He had one hundred and fifty in the city as well has two hundred and fifty sailors on four galleys in the Backwater Bay, however he was still outnumbered. To his left and right in the Throne room stood the black and red cloaked members of Rheagar's own Targareyn guards. At the end of the room stood the Iron Throne with its barbs and blades and below, on one of the steps sat the elderly figure of Prince Rheagar.

Martyn continued to the steps of the Iron Throne and bowed deeply. "Cousin Rheagar" he said as he rose. Although the two looked nothing alike and had different second names, they were cousins. Martyn was the bastard son of Princess Arriane Nymeros-Martell, the brother of Prince Quentyn Nymeros-Martell, the father of this old man. "Should I say King Rheagar or Lord Hand? Your spears have made you like a king. But does that make you king? I do not know, a question for the philosophers I guess."

Martyn looked to either side of him. The guards in their black cloaks eyes him as his finger ran over the hilt of his Myrish stiletto dagger. "And here are those spears. There are many of them a grant you. They certainly out number my men in the castle, and anyone else's for that matter. However are they enough I wonder?

Higharden has what, one hundred thousand soldiers? Casterly Rock has sixty thousand, Riverrun over thirty thousand, Storm's End around the same. Sunspear have more as well for that matter. I spent five years fighting with the Golden Company against Lys, Tyrosh and Volantis in the Disputed Lands and generally, the side with one hundred thousand men annihilate the side with less than fifteen thousand men. And as Highraden, Casterly Rock, Storm's End and possibly Riverrun will dispute your claim to our lovely little chair. You call yourself hand, yes but they will surely say you have made yourself king in all but name. Thus they will say they deserve to be king, and you have no right to call yourself hand, or king for that matter. So tell me how does my dear cousin plan on staying on in his current position, what ever that may be?"

---

Red Keep, King's Landing

Princess Nymeria Nymeros-Martell
0 Days

Nymeria's cloak blew in the wind as she ran towards Lord Tylar Arryn, revealing the central section of her translucent Myrish dress. As she got closer to him, she rubbed her eyes making them bloodshot. "Lord Arryn!" she cried. "What is happening?". She pulled her cloak up to wipe her eyes, showing the open side of her dress. "I have been trying to find someone to ask. My friend Quentyn Manwoody, Dorne's Grand Council representative has been arrested and I cannot leave the castle. What is happening?". Her hand was visibly shaking, either from distress or acting only she new.

[Givious]

Lord Rhaegar Targaryen
King's Landing
Day 0

"And on the field of fire, numbers did not save the line of Gardner." Rhaegar stands from the lower steps of the throne, walking down the steps slowly. "At the Last Storm the Stormlands outnumbered the Targaryen's under Orys two to one and still Orys defeated his enemies. At the Battle of the Kingsroad the Baratheon's outnumbered the Riverlords near ten to one, yet Kermit Tully and Bloody Ben massacred the unbloodied men even with them being outnumbered. The Battle of Winterfell six hundred men defeated near two thousand." Rhaegar reached the bottom of the steps, now flanked by two kingsguard. "Numbers mean nothing if you are facing a good commander or lead by a poor one. Numbers mean nothing if you are taken by surprise. Numbers mean nothing against a dragon-- I am not the King... yet. I am the Hand of King Aegon VII, and my position was never vacated by the Grand Council. Therefor, it is my duty as Hand to move the Small Council, those men trusted by our king to rule the realm in his stead, to take the necessary actions to safeguard the kingdom. I have removed the Council, and now we can go about fixing the issues they created. In a fortnight a tourney will be held in Kings Landing, and we will have a Great Council of all the Lord Paramounts and High Lords of the land present. We will decide this, once and for all, and the realm will not bleed." Rhaegar stepped closer to his cousin, still a few steps away.

"Will you join me in this? Or will you return to Sunspear?"

[Novae Vitae]

Robb Lannister
The Red Keep, King's Landing
Zero-Days-After-the-Decree

"Move aside, you buffoon," Robb hissed, having wobbled all the way to the Red Keep. It had been an ass of a walk, but he had not wished to leave the manse with any less men then necessary. And, having heard that Cerion had gone about leaving his men and Starks to guard Flea Bottom, Robb had--in kind--felt it appropriate to fulfill his end of the bargain. He had sent seventy-five men to guard the Stark manse, and had then sent an additional twenty-five to rove the streets looking for signs of abuse against the believers in the Old Gods.

It was an odd time. There were two men claiming to speak for a kingdom with no king, and both men had ordered the seizure of Cerion, but neither could take him without sparking a riot. Rhaegar Targaryen especially could not, at least for some time or in public. The High Septon at least had his fairies to call upon, should he wish to quell the mob. But Rhaegar Targaryen was material, and between him and Drogon a mob could be risen . . . or they would die in the attempt.

"I can' 'llow tha', m'lord," the man said, in a horrible accent that made Robb's ears bleed. "I's gotten orders not to let no sparrow-folk in."

Robb was taken aback. "Do I look like a sparrow, you fool?" he demanded. "I am Robb of the House of Lannister, cousin to the Lord of the West, Master of Coin to the small council, and--as of the decree the Hand has issued--a ruling member of this realm! I did not request that you step aside--I say, you great buffoon--move!"

With that, a dwarf wobbled into the Red Keep and found the nearest servant. "Find Lord Rhaegar," Robb said. "Tell him that I have come to discuss terms."

Ser Gerion Lannister
The Northern Reach
Five-Days-After-the-Decree

He had nearly been upon Goldengrove, passing through a village, when it had come to his attention that Lord Rowan had made to raise an army. Its extent and skill and purpose no one could agree upon, but one thing remained clear--Lord Rowan made to raise an army.

Gerion knew that the Reach had suddenly become a very dangerous place. Armies, friends or foes, were never good tides. Men were killed and villages pillaged, boys made the slaves of knights-that-were-not and women raped. Yet Gerion had a task to fulfill, and by all extents he would fulfill it.

"Turn back and ride day-and-night until you have reached the Westerlands again," Gerion said, turning to his second. "Your task has now become to escort Lord Jaime back to Casterly Rock without injury. Do you understand?"

"I do, my lord," the knight replied. His name was Ser Rober of Oldstones, but he was not from Oldstones. He said he took the title because Oldstones was a place of mystery and intent, and a knight of that place made inspire such in their foes. Perhaps he was right; Gerion hoped he was, at least.

"Uncle, I do not intend--" Jaime began, riding forward, but Gerion raised a hand to silence him. "Ser," Jaime hissed through his teeth, "I will ride to Highgarden. I am the grandson of the Lord of the West--you cannot stop me!"

"As it happens," Gerion replied in scorn, "I'm his son and I can stop you. Ride hard, sers." Gerion watched as Jaime's reins were taken and the dejected boy was lend back toward the village they had just left.

For his part, Gerion went to lengths. His armor had not been ornate to begin with, so it was a small task to cover it in mud and then to remove the mud, thereby retarding its appearance but not its quality. Then, finding a river, Gerion drew his dagger and pressed it to his scalp. Gods steady my hand, he thought, and he began to cut off his hair.

When he was done, Gerion had become a hedge knight of little note. His armor was dulled and his head was lumpy and bald. He had had a golden beard that reached his collar, and he could not bring himself to cut that . . . but now the beard was flecked with dirt, and appeared more brown in some places. Only his eyes remained. Lion's eyes.

Gerion continued for Goldengrove, hoping to enlist himself as a hedge knight to Lord Rowan.

[Krugmar]

Ser Desmond Redwyne
Vine Keep, the Arbor - Four days after the Decree

---

Desmond read the letter with mixed emotions, a summoning from his liege lord could not be ignored yet he would not be able to draw upon his father for support in this meeting. A servant arrived in his room, silently wandering in, "M'lord, your family is gathered in the Great Hall" he said meekly, bowing and leaving when Desmond waved him away. Desmond pulled on some clothes suitable for sailing, and made sure that some of his servants began packing belongings for his hopefully short journey. He sighed when he realised that he might run into his brother lurking in the Hightower.

He made his way into the Great Hall to find most of his siblings gathered, though some of the bastards had not been called to the meeting. "What is going on dear brother?" asked Denyse, before Desmond handed her the letter.

"Lord Tyrell has called me to Oldtown, to discuss who to support for King. Father didn't mention who he supported, even saying that most of them could go to the Seven hells for all he cared. The ones he hated the least was the Targaryens, but I'm not sure if that was just because he really hates the Lannisters and Baratheons, and therefore their candidates" posited Desmond, unsure as what to do.

"Then do not say who our family will support, or at least try and move Lord Tyrell away from the Lions and Stags" replied Robert, giving some wise input in his strangely sober state.

"Agreed, I will be taking Desmera and Ashara with me. Desmera should meet her betrothed and I know Ashara will sneak on to the ship anyway. Another letter has arrived from King's Landing, something about a tourney, therefore Robert, you will take Denyse, Mina, Daena and Olenna to this tourney. Hopefully this meeting with Lord Tyrell will be done soon enough for me to join you and take part. Ser Justan Vintner will take over administration of the Arbor while we are gone. Pack your things, we depart within the hour" he said, causing them to quickly mill off, shout for servants and pack their things.

~Several hours later~

Desmond stood on the prowl of the Great Paxter, a beautiful Dromond named after their Grandfather Paxter, which was their second most prized ship after the Arbor Queen. He had taken twenty Blue Cloaks with him and some of his siblings for protection, while giving twenty more to the ship carrying his other siblings to King's Landing. They would likely arrive in Oldtown by the next morning, ready to meet with Lord Tyrell and Lord Blackfyre and discuss a question that should have been answered three years ago.

---

Ser Mathis Redwyne
King's Landing, The Red Keep - 0 days after the Decree

---

Mathis entered the throne room flanked by six Blue Cloaks, having managed to find his wife and have her escorted back to their chambers. Something had changed within him, stirred even, when he passed out from his fear. He felt like a new man, he felt like he could be as strong willed as Ryam. He merely had to show it. Now was the time for decisions, whether his brother agreed with them or not. He was in command now, and he intended to command.

He made his way past the Dornishmen, always having a natural dislike for them due to the enmity between the Reach and Dorne. He came near to the Lord Hand, but kept a respectable distance. "My Lord Hand" he interjected, his confidence perhaps building too much as to make him interrupt a conversation. "The Royal Fleet and House Redwyne stand behind you in this decision" he said, holding up the decree which had reached him while searching the city for his wife. With a wave his Blue Cloaks moved to the side and joined the Gold Cloaks, and he moved to stand to the side of the dais that held the Iron Throne, facing the great door and the Dornishman, firmly planting himself on a side.

He sighed as silently as possible, to keep himself from shaking now that the confidence was wearing down. Had he made the right choice? Was their a right choice? But more importantly, did he do what Ryam would have done?

[Givious]

Lord Rhaegar Targaryen
King's Landing
Day 0

Rhaegar was surprised at the spine Lord Redwyne was showing, but it would be needed soon enough.

"I now have six of the nine council members with me cousin, join us in ruling this land." As he says this Robb Lannister entered the throne room. "Lord Robb, I hope you have come here to join us."

Maekar and Aegon Targaryen
Old Stone Bridge Inn, Crownlands
Day 2

Aegon downs the mug of brown ale, looking around the inn. It was packed full, men from all walks of life. High and low, they all sat in the inn drinking ale and eating the soup. Aegon had covered himself in a cloak, their tent outside bearing no sigil. As he finishes whats left of his soup, he stands and his two guards to as well. Walking from the inn they see their tent a hundred paces away, and he could hear his men outside. He and his brother had ridden with twenty men from the battle site on the point near Duskendale. Their father had sailed back to dragonstone, their uncle Renfred was a day behind them and their cousin Viserys was with them, he bringing an addition ten men. They did their best to not wave any colors, as to not attract attention. As he started to the tent however, something against the door of the Inn caught his eye. Two letters were nailed to the door, and Aegon removed both of them, his eyes lighting up. Turning, he quickly ran to the tents and sa Aegon approached he could hear the moaning of a woman from inside, opening the flap to see Viserys atop a woman. Viserys shouted at him to leave and he closed the flap, his brother approaching from behind.

"Give him a few more seconds." Maekar snickers. Aegon turns, sullen faced. He hands the two letters to Maekar who looks over them, his eyes growing big. He pokes his head into the tent.

"Stop mounting the whore and go mount your horse!"

"WHAT IN SEVEN HELLS DO YOU ALL WANT!"

"Grandfather has overthrown the council and is taking control of the Kingdoms. You need to get your father." Viserys had rolled off the woman and had his pants on in a single movement, throwing her a dragon as he ran outside to his cousins.

"What is going on cousins? Why father?"

"I fear war," Aegon says in a low voice. "We need all the men we can muster to ride to Kings Landing."

"My father will have a small company with him."

"And the men at the Stronghold will come in handy," Maekar points out as he mounts his own horse. The men with them quickly tear down the tent. "Viserys take two men with you, me and Aegon will lead the rest to the Stronghold, and ride on Kings Landing with that force and those we have here. We can likely collect more men from Rosby as well. You and your father need to ride with all haste to the Capital, you will likely be a day behind us."

"Not if we catch up." Viserys sneers as he rides off towards Duskendale. The remaining twenty eight men mount up and follow the two princes down the road to Rosby.

Aenys Targaryen
Blackwater Bay
Day 2

Aemon Targaryen
Dragonstone, Blackwater Bay
Day 2

[Novae Vitae]

Robb Lannister
The Red Keep, King's Landing
Zero-Days-After-the-Decree

"My lord Hand," Robb replied, inclining his head to the man. "I am here to join you," Robb replied, "though I feel as though why I join and why you do may be entirely different reasons." Robb paused for a moment, looking at those assembled, but then decided that he didn't care. He was a member of the small council; it was his position to make inquiries to the Hand.

"My lord Hand, I am a member of the small council," Robb said. "The same council has just been declared in governance of the kingdom, as per your own decree. And yet you mean to seize my blood, for the crime of not compromising his morals to reach an unworthy king. Surely we can reach a compromise."

[Asyir]

Ser Willhelm Aelör of Blackhaven
Castle Wyl Gates, Wyl Holdings, The Dornish Marches
Day 3 after faith uprising

Ser Willhelm continued down the dirt pathway that was the main road to Wyl. Ser Willhelm Aelör trotted along the stretch of road with his armed retinue of men-at-arms, bearing the sigil of House Aelör. The roads ewww occupied by a small amount of merchants and peasants making their way to Wyl, most likely to sell wares and crops. Wyl was the largest settlement south of Yorkshire.

The grey walls soon were in sight of the armed company. Willhelm rode his way to the large iron portcullis, where watchmen glared down upon them, as if Willhelm were about to launch himself in an attack against the castle.

"I am Ser Willhelm Aelör, where is Lady Wyl? I have come on behalf of my brother."

[Elepis]

Throne Room, Red Keep, King's Landing

"Lord" Martyn Sand, Master of Laws, the "Sand Snake"
0 Days

Martyn looked at the Reachman, standing next to the iron morass. He is unsure about what he has done Martyn thought. He could see the man's hands shaking slightly, beads of sweat falling down his brow. Martyn looked back at Rheagar, his cousin looked at home sitting next to the barbs and blades of the throne, he had sat there for many, many years after all. The Master of Coin stood next to Martyn and when he had finished, Martyn spoke. "My lord cousin, I am not my royal sister. I am but a simple bastard and I not know what Elia or Prince Edric will do. If Sunspear calls it spears, I will be just as shocked as you. After all, we are a thousand miles away from the Sandship so how would I know what is going on in its halls and corridors. I can only speak for me and my men and this what I say. I am a member of the Small Council, and the Small Council follows the King and the Hand and as there is no King I must follow the Hand, must I not? Even if I wanted to oppose you I could not anyway. However I must ask, what has become of my dear friend, Quentyn Manwoody, your black cloaks arrested him but a few hours ago and I would like to know why, so...why?"

---

Castle Wyl, the Boneway, the Eastern Marches

Lady Mertha Wyl
3 days

Lady Mertha combed her long auburn hair as her husband, Lord Meryn Dayne, the Sword of the Morning, sat in there marriage bed, semi-dressed and reading a book by the late "Maester" Quybrun on the working of the human heart. Around them stood the stout stone walls of Castle Wyl. Wyl was a large castle, both above and bellow ground. Above ground it commanded the Boneway, it great stone keep surrounded by six tall towers, all encircled by a curtain wall. Below ground, its secret corridors and halls filled the Hill of Wyl which the castle was built upon.

There was a knock at the door as Mertha was pulling on her low cut purple dress. Meryn opened to door, to be received by one of their house hold guards, his short yellow half cape draped across one shoulder. Apparently some storm lander marcher lordling was waiting in the court yard below. Mertha had been expecting this, a bird had come from Blackheaven some days ago, announcing his upcoming arrival. The Lord and Lady of Wyl finished getting dressed and went down to meet the arrival, Meryn had his family's pale, ghostly great sword Dawn strapped to his hip and it tapped lightly against his leg as he walked down the stairs to the court yard. Meryn was called the greatest Dornish warrior since Arthur Dayne and had thus been awarded the great sword, but non of his children or grand children would ever whiled it, no matter how good. When he died it would be sent back to Starfall, to await a new warrior.