Greater Dienstad of Thrones(GDoT) - The Winds of Change

by **Mokastana** » Mon Jun 27, 2016 4:14 pm

OOC THREAD:
viewtopic.php?f=5&t=381149
MAP:
http://imgur.com/Z6dzCDm

HISTORY:

Centuries ago, House Macabee united the seven Kingdoms through the use of dragons, marriage, and military might. Dragons were not easily tamed, and the fact that a few were raised to be loyal to House Macabee was viewed by some as evidence of divine intervention. Perhaps the Gods favored House Macabee and supported their quest for unification. The seven kingdoms, who had spent most of their history fighting over minor territory disputes, quickly fell or found new strength in supporting House Macabee. In only a few years from the beginning of the conquest, the seven Kingdoms of Dienstad were united under one banner. House Macabee, as a symbol of their power, renamed their territory around the central Bay ‘The King’s Land’ and ruled all of Dienstad for centuries to come.

But as time went on, the great creatures: the dragons, the giants, and the faye, faded from prominence in the world. Soon they fading to rarity, and then to obscurity. Dragons, Kings of Animal Kingdom, cease to exist nearly two hundred years ago. The last of them were barely the size of cattle, creatures incapable of the devastation told in the legends. Even so, House Macabee continued to rule with marriages and diplomacy when they could, and force of arms when they could not. But as all great dynasties eventually collapse, it was soon their turn to fall. The last Macabee King, confident in his family's legacy and strength, ruled as if no one could dare challenge him. When they did, even with reasonable requests, they were simply put to the axe. Even those whose duty was to advise the King could not without worry of losing their head. It didn’t take long for someone to take the final step and rebel.

There were any number of reasons for Robert's Revolt, for nearly every Lord had an issue with the Mad King. It wasn't until Robert's open declaration however, that the pieces fell into place. The war was short and bloody, but Robert did well to divide up the spoils with those who helped him ascend to the Throne. The King’s Land, central to all of Dienstad, was to be divided among his supporters. Sir Andradin Calavar of Alambil, a proven General from a minor House in the West, was appointed Commander of the Royal Army in King’s Port . The fact he just so happened to be Lord Bracatan’s Brother in Law was not without consideration. Humphrey von Stafford, brother in Law to Lord Johannes von Qoryx, was appointed Lord over Rosenport and the Gold mines it protected. House Huntley was given a Lordship to Golden Keep, which fell to Ser Benjen, the younger brother of Lord Huntley. To House Mokane, he gave the honor of proclaiming their Lord’s daughter as Queen, and one of their spies as his new Master of Secrets. The Lord of House Black, a minor House just outside of the King’s Land, was proclaimed Hand of the King.

In the beginning, the Royal Army was mostly made up of Robert's own Bannermen, but he knew the importance of a strong standing Army and Navy. Much to the disagreement from his vassals, he began conscription to built a true Royal Army, made up of soldiers from all across Dienstad. Nearly 9,000 soldiers were recruited from the Seven Kingdoms and used to bolster the Royal Army in King’s Port, Rosenport and Golden Keep. In Golden Keep, more than half of the 10,000 soldiers stationed there were conscripts from around the Kingdom. Then he built the largest peacetime Royal Navy Dienstad had ever seen, nearly 150 ships under his command, split between himself and the Lords of the King’s Land. Beyond raising his new army and sharing the spoils of war, Robert had cared little for what his vassals did, and let them handle their own affairs. Ruling was not a major concern of the new King Robert.

Within the first year of his Rule, he had a son, soon followed by two beautiful daughters. For every child he celebrated and the Kingdoms celebrated with him, but alas, the good times would not last. The Royal Treasury, once full of Golden Crowns, became barren over time. The plague did not help matters, taking many, including the King’s only son. His wife fell ill, and it took nearly a year for her to recover, but she did. They tried for another heir, but the Gods did not see it in their interests to give them one. Instead the God’s chose another route The King, on one of his many Boar Hunts, found himself impaled on a tusk, and died soon after. Barely had he ruled for a decade before the Gods claimed him, but worse, they left him without a proper heir.

Now the Lords have been invited to the Royal Funeral to see their King off to the afterlife. In addition to the Funeral, many will come to see what the future holds for their Empire. Will there be a new King, and if so, who? Will Robert’s Family claim the throne? Or Perhaps, is it time to return to the old ways, where the Lords were the Kings of their own lands? Only time will tell….

TODAY:

Small Council Meeting Chamber
The Iron Keep
One day before the Funeral

Queen Natasha sat in the oak chair at the head of the table. Outside the night’s warm summer air blew in the open windows, hardly cooling the room for those present. The Hand of the King was nowhere to be seen. With the Queen sat only three members of Small Council, the three members she could trust: Ser Tommen of Goldshire, Master of Coin, Sir Anthony of Torchwood, Master of Secrets, and Sir Douglas of Riverguard, Captain of the King’s Guard.

“My Queen,” Sir Anthony the Master of Secrets began, “Word of the King’s Death has been passed on the major Lords of the Realm, and many have arrived for the funeral. However, it seems many are questioning what will happen to the Realm after the loss of King Robert. I have my little birdies listening, but I fear it is much too soon to know who will be planning what.”

“And what of the Hand? Has he suggested coming forward to ‘Protect’ the Realm?”

“He has called for a meeting tomorrow after the Funeral, I will inquire as to what he plans then.” Sir Anthony responded.

The Queen looked away, feeling the rush of hatred and despair come over her again. She wiped away the tears that dared to show themselves. Robert may not have been a great ruler, but he had been a good man. One she had been proud to call her Husband and her King. His rule had kept Dienstad united, but now, the winds were changing direction. “Family and Vigilance”, the words etched into her mind since she was a child came to her. She had a family to protect, two beautiful daughters, and she had remain vigilant. 100 Mokane soldiers under her cousin's command were inside the city. She had the loyalty of half the Small Council, more than half if measured in influence. Sir Anthony was a northerner, and likewise knew his Lord's words and held a certain loyalty to the Mokane family. Sir Tommen was saved from execution during the war by Mokane family spies, thus owed his life to their family. Sir Douglas was a honest knight who proved the dependability of Southerners, he would remain loyal to the Royal Family above all else.

The Queen spoke up, her voice cracked but harsh:

“It does not matter whether he does or does not, after what he did he cannot be allowed to rule. As long as he lives my family and I are not safe. Tonight, we decide the future of Dienstad.”

The Final Walk of King Robert
King’s Port
Capital of the Seven Kingdoms
The next day

The bells of the Iron Keep rang slowly, signifying the beginning of the Royal funeral. ‘The Final Walk of King Robert’, as was tradition. The large wood and iron casket had, on its outer most layer, been shaped in a likeness of King Robert from his youth. Fancy jewels and precious metals were used to accessorize his coffin, with both his beard and Crown highlighted in gold. The Final Walk was escorted by 20 King’s Guard soldiers carrying the casket and nearly a hundred Capital Soldiers to maintain the peace. To the left of the Casket stood Queen Natasha of House Mokane, to the right, Lord Franklin Black, Lord of Callraven and the Hand of the King.

They first passed through the government district, where nobles and Lords could pay their respects before joining in behind the Casket on the solemn march. Banners from all over the Realm, from the red Lions of House Gilligan in the South, to the Black Torches of House Mokane in the North, joined in with their Lords or representatives to pay their final respects. Beyond the government district the casket led everyone to the main Market. Between the various stone and thatch roof buildings, the streets were filled with peasants and artisans coming to pay respects to their King. No one said anything as the Casket, soldiers and banners walked down the street. Partially out of respect, and partially out of fear of what would come next. The funeral itself would take place in the Great Cathedral of King’s Port, dedicated to the Faith of the Seven. Inside King Robert would be laid to rest with his predecessors, including the Mad King he rebelled against. House Macabee was no more, and now, the first -non-Macabee King was laid to rest in The Tomb of the Kings. Though the faith of the Seven considered it bad form to bury a non relative in a family tomb, this was the Tomb for Kings, not the Tomb for House Macabee. Still yet, some wondered silently if this disrespected the Macabees and, indirectly, the Gods.

After the prayers and ceremony were held, Lord Franklin Black, Hand of the King, made an announcement, calling the Lords of the Seven Kingdoms to meet in the Throne Room in the morrow to hear the Final Will and Testament of the Late King Robert. Unknown to the Lords and Lord Black himself, he would not survive the night to read the will.

Small Council Meeting Chamber
The Iron Keep
Late Evening after the Funeral

Lord Black sat at the front of the table, around him, ten soldiers from Callraven lined the walls of the Small Council Chamber. This was unprecedented, but so was the additional chair at the table. Sir Gregory Of Callraven, a large knight dressed in full armor, sat next to his Lord at the table. Those who met with the Queen last night gave each other quick glances as the rest of the Council shuffled in. Lord Black began soon after:

“Gentlemen, tomorrow I intend to read the Last Will and Testament of King Robert. In it, he names me the Protector of the Realm, and gives the Throne to my eldest Son, Erwyn, when he becomes of age. However, I cannot trust the Lords out there to accept this proposal outright, so I will need to bring many of them into this very council. If not, I may need to bring about some sort of Council of representatives so that they feel they are not being ruled without representation by such a small House.

Therefore, as Hand of the King and Protector of the Realm, I will be altering our current Small Council. Sir Douglas, you are to retire from the King’s Guard and Sir Gregory will take your place. Sir Anthony, you are to retire as well. Both of you are to then be taken into custody for conspiracy to kill the King. Throw down your sword and yield Sir Douglas.”

“Conspiracy? My loyalty has always been to the King and family.”

“Which is why I have twenty of my best swords going to arrest the Queen as well. She will pay for her attempted coup.”

Sir Anthony spoke up: “We know you poisoned the King’s-”

But Sir Douglas raised a hand to silence his friend: “If that's the case my Lord, then I must arrest you for treason.”

Sir Douglas stood up and pulled his sword. The Callraven guards moved to intercept, but the first Callraven guard was cut down before he could even pull his own sword. Two more came at Sir Douglas but he parried and struck both with ease. They fell before Sir Gregory could get around the table and join the fight. Sir Douglas was not only one of the few truly honorable knights, but one of the best swords in Dienstad. It was how he won the tournament that gave him his current, albeit contested, title as Captain of the King's Guard. Now, outnumbered eight to one, he proved his skill as a swordsman. While everyone focused on Sir Douglas, Sir Anthony felt two hands grab his shoulders. He was not a knight or warrior, but the dagger hidden in his cloak was there for just this situation. He slid the blade into the man on his left, stabbing the Callraven guard in the inner thigh. Barely had he turned to slice the throat of the Guard on his right before he a third guard rushed behind him drove his sword up through Sir Anthony’s back. He collapsed, dying, watching the guard on his right still clutching at the blood flowing from his throat.

On the other side of the table, two more Callraven guards fell to Sir Douglas’ sword, but he couldn't block every strike. A lucky strike caught his leg, forcing him to kneel and that was all Sir Gregory needed to get the killing blow. Neither Gregory nor Douglas wore their helmets in this fight and Gregory took advantage of that. Douglas raised an arm to block but it was too late. The blade landed just above the cheekbone, severing the top half of his skull from the rest.

In total seven of the ten Callraven guards lay either dead or dying by the time the two traitors were subdued. Lord Franklin Black stood next to Sir Gregory and looked at the the remaining members of the Small Council. They were still seated, eyes wide with fear and garments spattered with fresh blood.

“Sir Tommen, I know you were at the meeting with the Queen, but you have been given a second chance. Remain my Master of Coin, or suffer a traitor’s fate.”

Lord Black motioned with his sword to the body of Sir Douglas leaning against the wall. Tommen moved his lips but no sound came out. The shock of death still lingered in his mind. Barely had he nodded before the doors of the Council Chamber opened.
Lord Black turned: “Guards! hold the-”

The first arrow pierced his chest before another word could be spoken. More flew into the room. Sir Gregory and the Grand Maester both fell back from the impact as leather clad soldiers rushed in, backed by the Golden Cloaks of the King’s Guard. The remaining Callraven guards charged, but this time they were the outnumbered. Sir Tommen ran into the back of the room but one of Lord Black’s men cut him down on his way to the fight. The last survivor of the Small Council, a former soldier of King Robert's army, picked up a sword and joined the fight to protect Lord Black. They clashed with the Gold Cloaks and Mokane soldiers, but the Mokans soldiers were more familiar with fighting in small areas, as many of their family soldiers trained to fight on ships. Their recurve bowman also practiced for ship combat, and fired into the battle when an opening became clear. When the Last Callraven soldier fell, the Queen walked into the Hall, bow in hand, and raised her bow. Lord Franklin Black looked up, arrow still stuck in his chest and attempted to straighten himself up. Queen Natasha said nothing as she fired one last shot into the skull of Lord Black.

Everyone was dead, both her enemies and her allies lay slain. Sir Douglas was decapitated, Sir Anthony run through, Sir Tommen, holding his stomach. His last breath was a painful moan before he went silent. She turned to the Gold Cloak next to her.

“Sir Colin, I appoint you Captain of the King’s Guard. Go to my chambers and kill any Callraven soldiers still alive.”

The Queen had expected treason, which is why she and her daughters snuck out of the castle after the funeral. Her daughters were safely escorted to the Family's barracks in the city, while she returned with 20 soldiers and the Gold Cloaks to arrest the Hand. Sadly, she was too late to save her allies.

“And what of us my Queen?” A tall older man looked around and held his bow ahead of him, arrow notched just in case. His leather uniform stamped with the Torch sigil of House Mokane.

“Cousin Pyter, your men will stay with me. We need to get to my brother, bring him to the Iron Keep. We have a long night ahead of us. There is a lot to clean up, and plans to be made regarding our future”

Throne Room
The Iron Keep
Early next morning

Lords and Ladies of the court gathered in the ivory white halls of the Throne Room. Intricate purple and red designed adorn the walls as a mural of King Robert slaying the Mad King looked down from the ceiling. The mural was a new addition that covered the old mural of Dragons descending from heaven, with the first Macabee conqueror riding one, hammer in hand. In the front, raised above the floor, waited the Golden Throne. A large seat built from Iron and Gold, the two symbols of the power in Dienstad. The back and seat were both solid gold, mined from the lands outside of Goldshire, for no king should sit on anything less. The Iron was mined in the South, a gift from House Gilligan when they first bent the knee to the new Crown, a symbol of strength. For additional symbolism, the base was forged in Dragon fire, both to melt the metals, and to demonstrate that even steel would yield to Dragons. The more splendid details were added after. From the back arose a Golden Sun whose rays mimicked a crown that rested above the King when he sat. Two golden lions, one rested on each armrest, looking down into the crowd. It was here that the Lords and Ladies from around the Realm waited.

The Hand of the King was running late for his announcement, and no one from House Mokane was present.

by **United States of PA** » Tue Jun 28, 2016 11:03 pm

Eddard Huntley had no love for the former King, which was obvious to any who had seen the two men in close proximity. Despite this, he was among the first to answer to Robert’s call to rebellion against the Mad King, House Huntley had suffered numerous slights at the hand of the Mad King, large and small alike. From small japes about how the sickness that had claimed much of his family had been “the gods serving justice down on the heathens”, to doing anything to undermine his power and authority.

It was no small wonder that when the raven bearing word of Robert’s call to arms came, that Lord Eddard Huntley, Warden of the East immediately called his banners and marched on the capitol by way of the Golden Keep. In a short, bloody siege Eddard had managed to take the castle, and put the Mad Kings fleet to the torch, while bringing his own up to block off any route of escape by the sea. Leaving behind his younger brother Benjen with a garrison of 400 men to hold the Golden Keep, he had marched from there to meet up with Robert. Their first meeting was not as good as it could have been. Lord Eddard was often described ruthless, hard, even uncaring. The first two were true, the third applied only to his enemies. A word used less often to describe him was prideful, and a small, chance comment by Robert overheard by Eddard ruined any chance of being anything more than allies for the two men and two great houses.

After the war had been one, and Robert had his throne, Eddard returned to Huntfall to rule his people, while his brother Benjen was named Ser of the Golden Keep. Benjen had prospered there, while not the richest lands in the Kingdom, the Golden Keep was among the strongest castle’s, if not the strongest, being seated on a peninsula with high, smooth walls that made it impossible to climb without ropes or siege towers, and it had the largest walled harbor in the Kingdom. It was there that the largest portion of the Kingdom’s Army and Navy called home.

A decade had passed however since that time, and now Lord Eddard found himself in Kingsport for the first time since him and the other victors had ridden in at Robert’s side after the defeat and death of the Mad King. He did not care to be here, but he knew it was his duty. He had been with his brothers Benjen and Harrion at the Golden Keep when word had arrived, and the three of them had set sail on the keeps fastest galley for Kingsport, and the awaiting funeral with 60 other Knights, minor Lords and Lordlings and men at arms.

At the funeral, he had said no prayers for the departed King, they had shared different religions after all, and he did not care for the King, but he was not wholly heartless. He had wished Robert’s surviving children and his widow, all beautiful ladies relief from their grief, and happy futures, but truth be told he only wanted to go home to his own children and lady wife. Arya was still nursing the young Torrhen, not even a year old, Robett was nearly a man grown and was beyond capable for his years with sword and lance, Eddard even thought with a few more years practice he would be able to regularly best himself, and the thought filled him with pride. The thought had even crossed his mind to mention to the Queen a possible betrothal between Robett and one of her daughters, but there were better places and most of all better times to broach such a subject, Eddard knew all too well how solemn a funeral could be for the deceased family. He had had to sit through three of them by the time he was but four and ten, as disease took his elder brother Rickon, followed by his father Rickard and finally mother Lyanna, shortly after she gave birth to his youngest brother Harrion.

As the funeral came and went, Eddard made plans for his voyage home. He would be going alone by sea to Huntfall, with only his men at Arms with him. Benjen and Harrion had decided to ride back to their respective holds in a few days’ time.

Eddard had planned to leave for home the day after the funeral around midday, but he had delayed when he had heard of the Hand’s announcement later that evening. He did not know this Lord Black, but he knew that whatever was to be announced may affect him and his own, so the family stuck around longer than anticipated.

As the brothers broke their fast together the morning after the feast, they talked of the city, family, home, court gossip. But it was Benjen who would offer the most interesting piece of information. He had heard rumors of fighting within the Iron Keep, that much was certain. The rest of the information was vague and uncertain to say the least. He had heard one city guard say the Hand of the King was dead, murdered by the King’s ghost, another said the Queen had poisoned him. Another man that had formerly served under Benjen in the Royal Army, one of Robert’s bannermen said that the queen herself was dead, killed by one of her own daughters.

Eddard dismissed most of this as pure court and city gossip, but the certainty of the presence of actual fighting within the keep was there with every story.

It was then that Lord Eddard decided that, for this announcement that was to be held, his brothers and himself would stay together with their men, all of them armed and in chainmail, just to be safe. If someone had taken issue with the Hand, or the Queen, or anyone else, it was not beyond belief that they may wish to target the Warden of the East or his family.

They would not be an easy target.

((3 years out of practice, i'll need some time to adjust again lol))

by **Mokastana** » Sat Jul 02, 2016 4:15 pm

Small Council Chamber
The Iron Keep
8 hours before the Hand’s announcement

Alexander Mokane looked at the mess of bodies that was once the Small Council and back to his sister. She still held her bow in hand, though the battle had ended a while ago. The bodies had been searched and valuables looted, their expensive clothes ruffled and disorganized. The story was the same in the King’s Chambers where his sister had spent the last ten years as the most powerful woman in the Kingdom. The Gold cloaks of the King’s Guard had fought bravely against the Callraven troops that attempted to seize the Queen. They had been losing until Sir Colin joined the fight, even then the attacking troops only realized too late the Queen wasn't there. Now there were two significant blood baths in The Iron Keep. Alexander spoke up, breaking the silence between siblings.

“Tomorrow we will announce that Lord Black killed the King and declare you Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.”

“No.”

Alexander was not expecting that response: “Why not? Pyter has nearly a hundred soldiers, I brought 40 of my best, you have the Gold Cloaks, and we have the Iron Keep. The Callraven garrison stands no chance against our arrows.”

“200 men in the Keep, vs what? Every Lord who came brought their best, plus we don't know who Sir Calavar will back. His Army will decide the fate of King’s Port and the Realm. The King’s Will isn't here, so we must assume Lord Black stored it with his private army. I cannot risk my family with these unknowns.”

“So we'll contact Sir Andradin, tell him what happened. Explain the Will is a fake.”

“But it's not, and even if it was, what will we use to prove that? That Will is protected, it means that Lord Black or his family benefit from it. We can't forge our own, the King’s Seal is missing as well. Entrusted to the Hand, no doubt.”

“So, we might be traitors, depending on the contents of that Will, but we avenged Robert's death. That counts for something at least. Alright, what do you propose?”

Alexander knew his sister had a few good points, they didn't know enough to make a smart decision, especially not one as big as seizing the Golden Throne.

“We return to Raiderfell. The Blacks will eventually release the Will. We tell the world Lord Black poisoned the King, and meet with our Allies. House Qoryx will back us, House Lamont will want vengeance, and House Huntley can be swayed to our side. That's four of the Seven Houses, the rest will fall in line.”

“That's a possibility. The Qoryx have been good, albeit odd, friends, but last I heard Robert and Lord Darko Brulja Lamont never really got along. Neither has old Darko and I much for that matter. Good old northern rivalries.”

“We can unite the Northern Houses again with another marriage.”

“Maybe, but if this is the plan we need to act fast. Who knows what the Huntleys will believe when we stop in Hightower to resupply. We need their support before anything else. Father spoke highly of Lord Eddard Huntley, based on their naval campaigns together during Robert's rebellion. He would at least hear us out. Pyter, how quickly can we get the Garrison ready to move?”

Alexander turned to his older cousin. He had been watching the halls, guarding his cousins against any surprise attack the night might offer.

“I'm not going with you. The whole garrison leaving will spark interest. It's best if you and Natasha sneak out tonight. Take your men and any Gold Cloaks you trust. Ideally leave the Gold trimmings and have them wear commoner clothes over their armor.”

“What will happen to you?”

“Someone needs to be in the Castle when the Callraven army makes their move.”

“I can't let you do that Pyter.” Alexander began to protest, but Pyter continued.

“Family and Vigilance, it's my duty. I'll share the truth of what happened here. Besides I can't abandon my men. Get out of here while there's still time.”

“Pyter…” Alexander tried to find the words, but his cousin was right, if every Mokane soldier fled, it would get attention. Even his personal guard leaving might be too much, but he had to protect his Sister and Queen. Before he could speak Pyter interrupted:

“I don't plan on dying today. I'm going to find Sir Andradin and get the King’s Port Army on my side. I'll have one of Sir Anthony's agents deliver a message to Lord Huntley tomorrow. Get our Queen to safety. Go.”

“You better make it home Pyter.”

“Have I ever let you down?”

With those final goodbyes, Alexander and Natasha took to the street dressed as commoners within the hour. They snuck out of the castle and made their ways to the docks where a two Galleys, one with sails of the Crown and the other of House Mokane, took to the Sea. While they left, Pyter Mokane, Captain of the Queen’s Guard rode towards the home of Sir Andradin Calavar of Alambil, Commander of Kingsport Royal Army. He needed to see the Commander before anyone else did.

The Hand’s Announcement
Throne Room
The Iron Keep

The Lords and Ladies of the Court continued to wait for some sign of something to happen, but alas nothing was. What was stranger, was that the traditional King’s Guards who usually lined the walls, were absent. Left to discuss things among themselves, the rumors began and spread, but truth was something no one had for sure. In the middle of these idle discussions and talks, a servant came up to Lord Eddard Huntley and offered to refill his beverage. As he was refilling, a scuffle could be heard outside the Throne Room. The doors swung open, and a servant was thrown down to the ground. Two Callraven soldiers followed him in and picked him up. The servant had clearly been beaten outside. The two guards began searching him as an officer marched past and towards the front of the room.

“My Lords and Ladies, I am Captain Aldo Frey, and I bring grave news. The Hand of the King was slain last night by the Queen. The Queen murdered the Hand and the Small Council, and fled the Castle last night after her crimes. This man was tasked with sneaking into here and recruiting people to join in her rebellion. However, I have the Last Will and Testament of King Robert Lamont. In it he names Lord Franklin Black’s son Erywn as his heir. Now, who is honorable enough to follow their King’s final wish and support the new King Erwyn?”

To those not present, a raven would be soon arriving to the Capitals of the Seven Kingdoms:

by **Expectareaction** » Sat Jul 02, 2016 11:36 pm

Heart of the Sea Keep, Enneadon, Isle o the Nine Towers
Voprak sat in the dim light of a fire in the grand hall of the Cadhe(Obeja'Orlwa spirit family of the Dead), he looked at three messages that he had received from ravens all in disturbingly short succession.
The low fire caused the light to play shadows across the offerings to the Obeja, offerings to him, shadows across the faces of the advisors he had requested. A haunting picture of dark-eyed men and women gathered in a silent circle of high back chairs with no table between them.

Voprak himself even at fifty-four years was still an imposing figure, sharp eyes of a well educated man in both books and court, as well as battle. His body as well muscled as any young man, he could work the riggings on any ship on the sea and if he couldn't keep up with the young Murchadaens, he could still out work any mudlover from the mainland.
In his powerful hands he held the second letter he had received.

Robert, was dead. Odd circumstances it would seem, though when was the death of a ruler ever not an odd circumstance? Thus of course making the entire thing once again rather mundane. Voprak chuckled to himself at that thought.

Those around him saw the smile catch his eyes in the fire light. His wife was there, Tarmana, she had a head for politics and for war like few women, or men for that matter, that he had ever encountered. She smiled almost as he did as if she had some how known his thoughts, perhaps she had heard them, stranger things happened all the time and truly how strange was a wife knowing the mind of her husband.
Krissa his daughter, and Mother Obeja of Enneadon was there, as was Master Obeja Daegon Sinistri, and Master Obeja Aeron Cunninghand.

None of them smiled.

His daughter was a lovely girl, the best features of himself and her mother mixed equally. Bright green eyes, fair skin, hair as black as a moonless night, lips full but not obnoxiously so, her height appropriate for a woman but not too small as to appear frail. She was a lovely young woman, and she was as keen an Obeja as there could be at her young age.

Daegon and Aeron were there to represent their bands, as appropriate. Since the High Obeja would need information, though he wished more of his blood were here.

"So then as you are all aware, I received a formal message that King Robert died ...'accidentally'." he said the last with appropriate sarcasm on the word. " You are all also aware that I made no move to join the funeral events as expected and invited... and against my advice of course, my Sister Aislynn went to that cursed mudlover city in my stead.

Now, we are all also aware that shortly after the funeral a number of intriguing, yet painfully predictable deaths took place.
That the mudlovers are now fighting for that uncomfortable chair, and I point out 'again' my sister is in that cursed city.

Now what you are not yet aware of is that I have sent word, for each of the bands to ready a contingent of their vessels and troops and put them to sea to come south. The times for this movement have been prescribed for each band and I wont get into the logistics of it now but trust that I have my reasons.

Finally, and most interestingly, as a matter of fact the only thing truly interesting. I received a third message, well really the first message I received. A day ahead of the raven about Robert's death."

He let a single paper float down to the floor in center of the circle of chairs, as it landed, the fire light flickered and briefly each person seated there could read three simple words... simple and troubling words.

"DO NOT COME"

"Now you can imagine my curiosity at receiving this message, 'do not come' to what? Who was it that did not want me to come? Where was I not invited to go? Do I stink of fish and sea spray so badly that preemptive refusals are now sent to me from the Houses on the mainland. But then the next day, lo did I see the nature of the thing. Now my Obeja, I charge you with finding out who precisely issued such a warning."

"Voprak" Aeron spoke first, "Why would you need a warning not to come, you were no supporter of Robert. The 'People' did not back the Macabee King or the usurper. So of all people to need a warning, why you? I will assuredly find the 'who', but if you could suggest a 'why' it would surely make the search easier."

"I second his thoughts Voprak. The mainlanders care nothing for us, common or Noble, Lord or slave, if the Isle of the Nine Towers sunk into the depths and all to a man women and child went to the Deep Places they would celebrate and we would be a forgotten race by the next moon.
So why warn you when Murchadha is likely the only House in Dienstad who will not lay some claim to the Golden throne." said Daegon.

"I expect more of Obeja." chimed Tarmana in her delicate voice. "Its obvious there is a reason to warn Voprak, or there would be no warning. The question is do we 'know' what that reason likely is?"

Tarmana smiled at her husband again, with the knowing smile of a wife. The smile that told the others in the room she knew every thought in her husband's mind, the smile that told her husband she would know this thing he had hidden away from her.

"Aeron and Daegon, are half correct. The People of the Nine, did not back the Macabee Mad King, this much is true. Our obligation to the Gold Throne aside, he did not receive our support. However where they are incorrect is that Robert did.
Most have no idea that the ships of 'the People' aided Robert. I had specific vessels under my command before I was High Obeja, and those vessels I used to support Robert, to move messages and to relay movements of his enemies. To harass the loyalist forces when they ventured too close to the coast, but always in the guise of reaving. This was a secret agreement between Robert and myself, note that during that time whenever we made raids on those loyal to Robert, they never opposed us, and gave over immediately, and how strangely losses to him and his sworn men were blood retreats. Staged victories, staged losses, merely feigns and nothing more.
Robert and I had an agreement."

"When! How did this meeting take place?" -Daegon
"Yes, Voprak I was not aware you had ever met with Robert before he became King." -Aeron

"Silly of me not to have considered that, dear Husband." - Tarmana.

"You remainly puzzingly silent dear daughter?" Voprak addressed Krissa.

"Indeed. Knowledge speaks father, but wisdom listens."
"Obeja'Orlwa be praised. You speak from a Deep place." Aeron said.

"Yes, 'well deep places' don't presently suffice as answers. On what do you study my child, isn't your mother's point the obvious one? Someone who knew Robert, also knew the secret we shared." -Voprak.

It was his daughter's turn to smile, and again Tarmana smiled almost the instant her daughter did.
Tarmana said "I would expect more from the High Obeja..."

Krissa continued "...Indeed. Yes father, someone who knew the secret you and Robert shared, so they were close enough to know Robert parlayed with the heathens of the sea, us, and yet not friend enough to Robert to stop his impending death. No father, I am not nearly convinced the sender of that warning is a concerned ally of Robert, and by no means an ally to us.
I believe it is likely your absence was intended to be pointed out at some point as suspicious. Indeed if Robert has been poisoned who better culprits than us? No, I think the warning was a trap, a two sided trap."

Voprak stroked the short beard on his chin, than ran his hand over his shaved head, still shorn like a sailor.
Yet another thing that made the people of nine Isles different.

"Childishly obvious dear daughter. I should have realized that fact myself."

"Voprak, when are you readying the vessels?" Aeron asked.

This time it was Tarmana's turn, and as Mistress of Frenns, and Khadmistress the smile on her face now held no warmth "Because with the Golden Throne empty, we have no agreements to uphold." The smile that split her face was full of pearly teeth and still ruby lips for a woman her age, her face weather worn, but her eyes seemed ignited with a furious passion of a young woman under the song of her lover. She was however under a different kind of song, the song of sea and blood.

"We may perhaps make some advantage of this, but patience wife. We will be ready. But we should not respond too quickly, too predictably."

The Obeja, discussed the houses and the people they knew who were close to Robert.
Many ravens were sent out before dawn, and indeed Voprak utilized other more arcane methods of messaging. Even the Obeja were impressed by their sovereign's display of power.

The night was long, and afforded them, little sleep.
Voprak still feared Aislynn might be in grave danger if she still remained in the city of the mudlovers.

King's Port
Aislynn Murchadha, had arrived in the city of King's Port the day before the funeral.
With here had come Khadmaster Urek Longeyes, and his best 8 men.
She herself had brought her personal guard of 8 men, she had left Arrass her consort behind. She feared the mudlovers might kill them both if something happened, and truthfully she worried only for his life, but told him she wanted to be assured of vengeance by keeping him alive to do so.
In addition to those 18; came 27 more Frennmen and 27 seasoned Reavers. With the additional support of 36 Footmen to help bare gifts for the mourning family and for the houses which would be present. While Voprak may be High Obeja, and head of House Murchadha, and Aislynn the trained soldier, it was she who was always better at politicking than Voprak.

Aislynn and retinue had found easy accommodation in the many inns in King's Port. She was grateful to no longer be on horseback, it was an unnatural state to be in, riding the back of some stinking animal, undignified.

She had made certain all the men were Armored in finest sea-leather armor, steel helmets on the 18 enameled in green and gold, the helmets of Frennmen enameled in deep sea green, the helmets of the Reavers in colors of the traditional funeral rights of the Isle, Black and Purple, while their cloaks were sun bleached white pale. The footmen bore leather hoods which covered their faces. Only Aislynn and Urek exposed their faces, unlike the Reavers, whose heads are shorn like sailors, Aislynn and Urek, along with their personal guard and the 27 Frennmen wore the Pryna, the traditional haircut of professional soldiers from the Isle of Nine Towers, the head shorn save for a patch on the top at the back of the head either on or just behind the crown. Women soldiers usually would wear this in a braid, while men tended to slick it forward and to the left side. Today was no exception, and Urek had used lovely scented oils in the process of affixing his hair, so that he smelled of lavender and musk.

....

As uneventful as the funeral was, and strangely on edge the city seemed, Aislynn knew she needed to present her gifts and vacate this stinking maze of walls and dirt. She appreciated the beauty of the might it took to build and indeed maintain King's Port, but this was not a place for the People.

....
Aislynn and Urek had made it to the court, now while she appreciated the beauty of the work of King Port, she loathed the gaming for power of the dry-landers. Petty at the best times, and so predictable, so fake. Weepy eyes for a man they cared nothing for, she would make no such showing.
She drank in her custom, she ate in her custom, her escort followed suit. If the dry-landers thought them savage, all the better.
If not, better still...

She disliked leaving her personal retinue outside but, to have body guards in the throne room would be an insult to throne, regardless of if it did or did not presently support an ass. She would however not disarm herself, nor order Urek to do such a thing, though they were not asked.
Neither were they asked to not bring personal guard, she had assumed this was simply understood, it was not.
The commotion of the doors being hurled open and the servant being tossed did at least brighten the day in terms of entertainment.
The news however only served to darken her day.

"I really must be going."

It appeared the Queen would not be getting her gift.

OOC: Short post its been a few years for me to, so let me warm back up. Danke.
Spell checked, posted it late and tired. cleared up some grammar which effected content.
Sorry need to work past my clunky dialogue, Ill get there.

by **Geara** » Tue Jul 05, 2016 11:11 pm

The Stone Palace, Tashbaan

Artorio was not a young man and had lost much of the vigor of his youth. While he remained a brilliant tactician, he no longer engaged himself personally in the affairs of diplomacy, preferring to delegate those duties to his family. While Nivaea, his wife of many years, was often the default delegate, on this occasion it had been his brother Herus that traveled to King's Port in his stead. Herus, however, had been of little use there and it was a raven from the small council that bore news from the capital. He had not engaged in Robert's rebellion and bore no love for the man, who he saw as a usurper and whose predecessor was merely a tyrant. Instead, he had coerced the army of Alambil to fight on his behalf, avoiding the confrontations of civil war. Even so, when the raven bearing the supposed will of the King arrived, Artorio was reminded of something he was more sure of than anything; he hated the Blacks.

"Husband," Nivaea said, having read him the message, "Why is it that you receive word from the Blacks before your own brother?"

"Herus is good at crying at funerals, not listening to whispers, wife."

It was true, Herus was not a schemer, nor particularly clever. Of all the family, he was the most genuine, which is why he was often the attendee at affairs of state and celebrations. In that way, he was often trusted by those around him with small secrets, but never seemed to realize their value until too late. He also had extremely poor handwriting, leading to the nickname "Sad Scribbler" among his friends and family.

"Robert should have known better than to expect a Bracatan to bow to those Callraven whelps. He spits in our eye even from the grave." Artorio continued, himself spitting on the floor. "Call the rest of the family, it is early, but this is not a time for sleep."

Nivaea left the room immediately to summon everyone. Relatively few were present at that particular time, Herus and his wife were in King's Port along with Artorio's sister Casta. Ciprus, his firstborn, was overseeing the army in Pugrahan, which has been the victim of a small uprising. That left only his daughter Acclara, son Cantor, and nephew Albin at the Stone Palace besides his wife. Artorio lapsed into quiet thought as several servants carried more candles into the room. The Blacks and the Bracatans had fought each for hundreds of years before the rebellion, and it was only Robert's favor of Franklin that had enabled them to escape the continued wrath of the Adriat war-hammers. That and the goodwill of the Calavars, Artorio's ally among the small houses.

"What is it, uncle? Word from Herus?" Albin asked, sleepily shuffling in along with his relatives.

"The Sad Scribbler has failed to send word of any kind." Artorio responded curtly. "I called all of you to inform you that Robert has named Franklin Black his successor."

There was a long silence. They had all learned of long-past wars and cruelties visited upon their family by Callraven. Their morning grogginess vanished, replaced with resolute and uniform disgust.

"While I am sure you are all ready to seize up your swords, let me remind you that we are surrounded by enemies. The King's own family reigns in Severin and his named successor is our oldest foe. Trapped as we are, there is no hope for us to move one way or the other without being stabbed in the back."

"But Andradin holds the Iron Keep." Albin said, pointing out the obvious.

"While you would not have known it, nephew, your father has always been a friend of Callraven." Artorio continued, as though uninterrupted. "While it has hitherto been only a matter of opinion as to our relationship with the Blacks, it has become suddenly a point of vital difference. We can expect no help in King's Port while a Black sits on the throne."

"Then we must act." Albin said, again providing little insight.

"If you must speak Albin, do us the pleasure of contributing." Nivaea scolded and the room relapsed into silence.

At length, Nivaea stated directly "Albin will travel to Racia, Acclara to Agwedon. Albin will report that the seafolk are coming and Acclara will hire a band of pirates to attack, it is of the utmost importance that there be an exact report on the part of Albin and that you, daughter, create the threat. Three ships should suffice to make it seem as though there is a scouting raid. If that is not enough to create a conflict, then we will take further steps to whip up a storm in the north."

Albin would have protested, pointing out that this would merely deliver them into the hands of their enemies, but Artorio shot him a glare that shut his mouth before he agreed with his wife.

"It is a good plan, but I fear more for the affairs of the South. Herus is stuck in King's Port and I would not have him alone. Cantor, ride north through the Mountainlands and make your way to him and Andradin, I trust you absolutely, where your Uncles I do not. The small houses cannot be trusted, I even doubt the loyalty of Alambil, but the Qoryx would not inhibit your travel."

"Whatever happens father, I will not let Franklin Black sit on the Golden Throne."

“I am not interested in thrones, only in Kingdoms.” Artorio replied, “While I admire your zeal, far better that a single kingdom refuse to back him than for him to lose his chair.”

“Send Ravens constantly.” Nivaea said, “If anything changes, I need to know or else we will rapidly lose control of the situation. Albin and Acclara will leave as soon as supplied can be gathered, there is not a moment to spare.”

“Wait a moment.” Artorio said, staying them from rushing out. “As much as it will please us all to stop the scheming of the Black bastards, remember that your actions are for the family’s defense. We do this out of necessity first and secondly to see the walls of Callraven crumble.”

by **The Matthew Islands** » Sat Jul 09, 2016 3:03 pm

My first RP post in like, 5 years, sorry if its a bit awful.
King’s Port
Capital of the Seven Kingdoms
Throne Room
The Iron Keep

Lord Andrew Gilligan stared around the room with a glum expression on his face, not for the death of his king of whom he knew little, but because like most Southern men, he disliked leaving his homelands. Still, travelling to the capital would hopefully prove a good opportunity for his Son Jason to learn how to rule the South as he was left in charge while Andrew attended the funeral. At 45 years he was fortunate enough to still retain his fighting strength and a full head of thick black hair. Standing a 6'2 he had a large powerful build and was dressed in a simple . 'A lord must always be at peak physical condition' his father had told him, 'For a lord who is weak in the body is weak in the mind and cannot possess the strength to rule.' He had ridden to the capital with 30 men-at arms and intended to ride home as soon as feasible.

Court politics had always bored Andrew. He had supported Robert in the rebellion by supplying his armies with weapons forged from the Souths numerous iron forges but refused to send Southern troops to die in a war which had little impact on the South. Andrew eyed the assembled nobility from the realm. There were none he could call true friends but there none he could call enemies either. He was however keen to visit the captain of the Kings guard Sir Douglas of Riverguard, the Uncle of his sons wife Lady Sara one of the few Southerners in the capital and a friend.

The door bursting open and the beaten servant being thrown in after woke Andrew from his bored thoughts. The Queen, murdering the small council? Did the dead include Sir Douglas? This was extremely concerning. The kings body had barely been laid to rest before the scavengers had began tearing apart whatever they could claim. Andrews foremost concern was the safety of the South and upheavals like this always guaranteed bloodshed. He began walking towards the door of the room gripping his sword tightly. His first step was to discover the fate of Sir Douglas.

by **Lamoni** » Sun Jul 10, 2016 2:21 am

Kamerlengo Castle
Severin

Kamerlengo Castle was an impressive structure, the smooth, circular outer walls and tall towers making it difficult for anyone without ropes to scale the walls. Since the castle was built on top of a massive rock, there was only one real path for siege engines to approach the walls, and that path led directly to the castle's front gate. No expense had been spared in making this Castle into a true Fortress, the giant rock upon which the castle rested being seen as a blessing from both The Lion of the Night, as well as The Maiden of Light, making life much easier for those entrusted with the defense of the castle. Indeed rooms and tunnels had even been carved out of the rock, everything from massive storehouses to heavily concealed exits, to barracks for troops. Three years worth of provisions had been stored up for use, and water from the local river could be accessed via several wells inside of the giant rock. The Confederacy which pre-dated House Lamont had wanted to make a statement with their capitol, and quite a statement indeed had been made with the imposing structure.

It was here where the Lord of House Lamont had been when the raven announcing the funeral of King Robert Lamont had arrived. The funeral was far too soon for the Lord of the House to be able to attend, but many officials from House Lamont who had already been in the capitol on other business had been watching the proceedings, sending back reports of what they saw and heard both during and after the late King's funeral. A particularly juicy bit about the Queen having killed many members of the Small Council had arrived earlier that day via raven, but no one seemed to know who had written the message, so it might well have been false.

Either way, with King Robert dead, and no word of any sort of will left, it became incumbent upon Lord Brulja to rule the Kingdom of Dienstad. To do that, a march south would be required, but not before certain alliances had been made. King Robert had been controversial after all, and there were likely those who did not want to see another Lamont on the throne, regardless of the fact that the Throne was theirs by right of succession. FInally, there was the fact that his first wife had died from a terrible disease, and he himself had yet to remarry, nor had any of his children done so. Marriages were so useful in securing alliances, after all...

by **United States of PA** » Thu Jul 14, 2016 12:18 pm

Kings Port
Throne Room of the Iron Keep

As Eddard stood with his brothers and their retainers chatting before the announcement came, they could not help but take notice of a few of the irregularities. No Kings Guard, the Hand was late, all very odd peculiarities.

As a young servant came up and offered Eddard and his brothers to refill his wine, he graciously accepted. Some southern vintage, decent but not to his particular tastes. He had always preferred the ales that were common in the East, wine just did not sit with his tongue right.

As he meant to give thanks to the servant for the refill, his train of thought was broken by the sound of the doors crashing open, and chainmail clinking as a pair of Callraven men at arms threw a servant into the halls, one who had already been clearly abused by the men before he had been so rudely thrown into the room. If beating up a servant was what this announcement was about, Eddard was beginning to regret his decision to wait around for it.

It became clear that it was not, as a particularly ornate Callraven man at arms marched forward to where the throne sat above all, and took a place on the dais.

“Aldo Frey, Captain of the Hands Personal guard. A son of some minor lord under Lord Black I think, or maybe a hedge knight, I cannot recall.” Benjen whispered into Eddard’s ear. His years as Lord of the Golden Keep had given Benjen a greater knowledge of the court that Eddard ever had.

Before he could ask a question about the man to his brother, the Captain had reached the dais, turned and began his announcement.

“My Lords and Ladies, I am Captain Aldo Frey, and I bring grave news. The Hand of the King was slain last night by the Queen. The Queen murdered the Hand and the Small Council, and fled the Castle last night after her crimes. This man was tasked with sneaking into here and recruiting people to join in her rebellion. However, I have the Last Will and Testament of King Robert Lamont. In it he names Lord Franklin Black’s son Erywn as his heir. Now, who is honorable enough to follow their King’s final wish and support the new King Erwyn?”

Lord Eddard stood and considered for a moment. The Hand of the King dead? That explained the rumor’s before they had come, and he felt better having his chainmail on now, and also the absence of the Kings Guard. With the King dead, and no knowledge of the will they were sworn to the Queen and her Daughter’s, at least until word of the will broke out, than it was up to each man in the group to decide his loyalties and he did not know where things could go from there. The Queen and her daughters could end up dead, or worse at the hands of the men they thought would protect them, and even if the Queen had murdered Lord Black in an attempt to seize the throne, they did not deserve that.

As the murmuring and commotion drew louder inside the throne room, Eddard motioned to his brothers Harrion and Benjen, and the men and knights with them. As calls of loyalty came from amidst the crowd, Eddard figured it was only a matter of time before some ambitious minor lord decided to make a big deal out of the trio of brother’s reluctant loyalty to King Robert, better they slip away now in the confusion.

As the 60 men slipped out of the Throne Room and the Iron Keep that afternoon, they made for the ship that had brought them here. Queen Natasha was its name, a galley of only 50 oar’s, but the fastest ship in the Royal Fleet with the wind at its back.

“Might need to change that name before long, shame, Beautiful ship for a beautiful woman” He thought to himself as the group rode through the streets towards the port.

His thought’s wandered from there to other matters that seemed important in the aftermath of the announcement. As they rode, he fell back to alongside Benjen and Harrion. Harrion’s loyalty was certain, but Benjen was the Lord of Golden Keep, and commander of the greater portion of the Royal Army. He had to know what his brother was thinking.

“Benjen, when we get to the Golden Keep, I intend to take a river barge upriver to Highgarden and from there down to Huntfall. What do you intend to do?”

“Probably the same as you intend to do once you arrive at Huntfall, I’m going to call my army together, and wait. Our King is dead, his wife is an accused traitor and murderer and above all, I doubt the validity of this will of the King’s. Lord Black could just as easily taken the seal and written it for himself. I do not believe Robert would rob his daughters of the throne, and a good King he was not, but he was not cruel”

“You know we will probably have a trio of Monarch’s here soon. The Queen has all but named herself, we have this boy lord in Erwyn Black, and I would be willing to be that the King’s cousin Lord Lamont will not stay quiet in this matter”

“No, he most likely will not. Let’s wait until we are underway brother, these streets have a lot of ears, and the men on the ship are loyal, to me at least”

The last part of those word’s caught Eddard off guard, while he was sure his brother would not do anything to harm him or Harrion, he had to remember that Benjen was sworn to the crown, though how could he take action if he did not know which crown, if any of them were legitimate?

When they finally reached Queen Natasha, they ordered full sail and oar be bent for the Golden Keep, and then the brother’s retreated to the captains cabin.

“Benjen, I will be honest with you, I do not mean to swear loyalty to this Lord Erwyn ….. yet, nor do I mean to declare for the Queen. I mean to call the banners of the East at Huntfall and Piedmont, and wait. I see this as a family squabble, one we don’t need to get involved in, ANY of us. All I wish to know is what you mean to do? You command 10,000 men and the strongest castle and largest fleet in Dienstad, you will be well sought after in the coming weeks as the factions of this civil war seek allies, and you would be strongest of all”

“Brother Benjen, may I suggest you simply align yourself with your family in this matter? You have no King, as you said. His Queen stands accused of murder, and will likely be tried in absentia, so her guilt is certain, at least as far as the court will be concerned, and I don’t believe any of us believe in the validity of that will. You have no lord now, only family” Harrion had always been well spoken and bookish, a decent fighter, but his best abilities had always lay in his ability to talk people to his side, rather than cut them down with sword, and his book reading had made him a fine strategist.

A long period of silence persisted, before Benjen finally answered. Eddard had started to get nervous that his brother may do something he did not want him too.

“I suppose you are right Harrion, except in one matter. I do have a Lord yet, and he is my brother. House Huntley will reign strong at the end of this conflict, as we always have. My sword is yours once again Eddard, mine and all those of the Golden Keep”

“I thank you brother, we must not speak of this. I propose that when we get to the Golden Keep you send the Navy forth to patrol the entrance into the bay, stop and inspect all ships in the name of protecting the new “King”. It will give us an appearance of being loyal, and you never know what you might find. They say the Queen Natasha is the fastest ship in the Kingdom, if we are quick enough, we might even be able to find the real Queen Natasha if she fled by sea”

by **Geara** » Thu Jul 14, 2016 9:37 pm

Tarva House, King’s Port
Co-written with Mokastana

Herus and Andradin were in a drunken sleep when the visitor arrived, they were hardy warriors and Andradin was acknowledged universally as one of the finest generals of the realm. But they loved ale and wine more than plotting and scheming, so it was Casta, rather than the master of the house that met a furtive Pyter. He was escorted in by Andradin’s bodyguard to await the arrival of his wife.

The house itself was a well-appointed affairs that was adjacent to the barracks of the Royal Army and had been built specifically for the use of Andradin. What that meant in practice was that it was drenched in the house colors of Calavar. Purple banners with a white rearing stallion covered every available wall and along the outside of the plaster walls were hundreds of purple Morning Glories. The flowers filled the air with a sweet odor that combatted the sweaty stench of the barracks. Everything that could not be colored purple was made of rough-hewn wood; it was a soldiers home, not an aristocrat's.

Pyter Mokane appreciated the simplicity of the decor and design of the knight's home. Though an aristocrat himself, he was from a lesser branch of the Mokane family, the firstborn of his cousins to the youngest brother of his uncles. As such he was more comfortable in homes of this style than the fancy castles of the South. Yet, he still walked and talked like a noble, and his iron backed leather chest plate carried his own, not his Lord's, Family Crest.

Waiting for an audience, Pyter began to think through his options. Andradin and Pyter had met before at various events, but they were not particularly close. Still, they both were soldiers, and while they were on opposite fronts in the war, they still both fought for the same side. Hopefully Pyter could utilize some of that common ground to bring peace to King’s Port. Andradin had been loyal to King Robert, but he also knew the small houses tended to trust each other more than a kingdom across the continent. What if a Callraven rider was on his way, here, now, to give their side of events? No, not if, when?

“You should be in mourning, not interrupting a quiet household.” Casta interrupted Pyter’s musing with a flourish. However, seeing the guest was a Mokane, she stuttered to a halt and add “...Sir”

Off to a great start... Pyter thought to himself as he bowed respectfully to the Lady of the House. She was right, but he would not not be here if the situation did not require it. The sun was barely beginning to shine over the Eastern walls of the city, the Lords would be meeting soon in the Iron Keep and then everyone would know what had happened. Hopefully his Agent could get the message there in time.

“My Lady, I bring urgent news. Last night, there was a fight inside the Iron Keep. The Hand of the King, Lord Franklin Black, attempted to jail Queen Natasha. She discovered he had poisoned the King and was planning on taking the Golden Throne for himself. We fought, and Lord Franklin Black was slain. As your husband is the Commander of the King’s Port Royal Army, I have come on behalf of the Queen to ask for his support.”

“Cowards! Poison!” She exclaimed.

Like all of the Bracatans, Casta was raised with an unsettling hatred for the Black. Though she was married to a Calavar, who had a more positive outlook on Callraven, she had never forgotten the tales of ancient heroes slain by Black lords. It was obvious to her, in every way, that if there was a crime, then the Blacks had a hand in it.

“We should call out the men immediately, there are Black Bastards everywhere in King’s Port.” She paused, considering for a moment that she was not in fact the commander of the army. “I take it you would speak with Andradin then?”

“Please, as you can see this is quite urgent.”

Casta dispatched a servant to fetch Andradin and, afraid of his conclusions, also summoned Herus. Outside, the neighing of horses could be heard. Perhaps the Callraven riders had arrived, Pyter feared.

Outside, Lieutenant Cambridge dismounted his horse, and looked at the house in front of him. He was escorted by 12 soldiers, with two large banners proudly displaying a Black Raven on a dark green background. His armor was iron and chain mail, much like the soldiers with him. He saw a lone Mokane soldier and two horses outside, but he would not slay this man here. This was an ally’s home and it would not do well to quarrel with the Commander's guards. Besides, he had the late King’s Will, and he had orders to present this Will to the Commander of the Royal Forces in King’s Port. Passing the Mokane soldier, he knocked on the door, entourage in tow:

“In the name of King Robert Lamont, I request an audience with Sir Andradin Calavar, Commander of the King’s Port Royal Army. I bear Robert's last Will and Testament.”

Casta looked spitefully at the soldier, “It won’t work, Sir Pyter has already explained your little game.”

She considered sending them off instantly, but thinking better of it, allowed Cambridge to enter, shooing off the herd of soldiers saying, “if you think I’m letting an army in my house, then you had better bring a bigger one.” At that moment Herus and Andradin entered as a disheveled duo. They were both in homespun tunics that were covered in stains and holes--the comforting garb of rest. Herus’s eyes instantly narrowed at the sight of Callraven soldiers outside and a Callraven officer inside.

“Thank you wife, you’d better leave this to me.” Andradin said, dismissing the seething woman before she actually assaulted anyone. “Now then, what’s the meaning of all this?”

Pyter and Cambridge both began to speak at the same time. Pyter about poison and accusing the Blacks of a coup, while Cambridge yelled about the Queen killing the Small Council and having the King’s Last Will.

“The Queen requires your aide to fight off these fiends who soil the Lamont name and poisoned their King!”

“Read the King’s Will yourself my Lord! He names Erywn Black his successor. While the Queen lied, killed her enemies and fled the city!”

“Excellent, so no one is in immediate danger,” Andradin said wryly, before turning away to pour himself a cup of wine. Herus had fallen back asleep on a couch, his head lolling to one side. “Now, the King’s will, I presume that would be the best place to begin, wouldn’t you Sir Pyter?”

Andradin had been a loyal friend of Robert, fighting side by side with him at some of the most famous battles of the rebellion. He was also no stranger to Callraven, having been a neighbor and friend to Lord Franklin long before the troubled times had began. To a lesser extent, he knew and trusted the Queen, though he remained ignorant of the exact circumstances of who had killed whom.

Pyter opened his mouth to disagree, but could not find the words. The maester had found no trace of poison in the King’s body, or so he claimed. Part of the reason why he had been killed during the battle. Of course, he knew by staying in King’s Port he was merely buying time for his cousins.

“It is a place to start, Sir.” he said with a hint of venom. This prompted Sir Cambridge to produce a scroll from a leather container. He handed it the scroll to Andradin, in which it read:

Lieutenant Cambridge spoke once Andradin had read the letter.

“As you can see, the Queen has stage a coup against her husband's wishes, and stolen our new King’s future bride.”

“First of all, Lady Natasha is no longer the Queen of anyone aside from her children,” Andradin observed, “But more importantly, I am not sure when you expect from me, there is no army at the gates of the city and no rebellion in the kingdoms so far as I am aware. Or did you expect me to raise Franklin from the grave so he could explain all this to you? Sir Pyter, do you have anything to add? A foe perhaps that warrants the attention of the King’s army?”

Cambridge looked from Andradin to Pyter. Pyter’s left hand gripped his sword’s handle tightly, keeping the blade secured in its sheath, to which Andradin’s eyes flicked nervously. Pyter started to speak but Cambridge cut him off.

“My Lord, the Queen fled the city from these-”

“There is a rebellion, My Lord. The Mokane Family has spilled blood in the Iron Keep and has taken the life of Lord Black. They have a garrison of nearly a hundred men in the city. In the name of King Erywn Black, the Royal Army Army needs to crush them before they take over the Iron Keep and arrest the members of House Mokane for treason!”

“King Erywn is not of age, and there is no regent.” Andradin looked at Cambridge dourly, “Unless a footsoldier has been promoted to the office, now, if you please, Sir Pyter…?”

“If I am not being arrested, I request an escort back to my garrison.”

It was clear to Pyter that Andradin was not interested in acting on the death of the Small Council, nor the Hand of the King. Meanwhile Lieutenant Cambridge was fuming, he expected the Lord to do his duty.

“Sir Andradin, the Protector of the Realm was assassinated by this man's family! He killed the Small Council! Where is your honor?”

“Either of you prove what you have said and I will kill the other here and now!” Andradin’s raised voice jerked Herus from the arms of slumber and he stumbled to his feet. “Or would you have me take the word of a foot soldier as a death sentence for all the finest blood in the seven kingdoms?”

Herus’s normally trusting gaze was narrow and suspicious and he glanced towards both Pyter’s furtive expression and the reddening face of Cambridge. Andradin handed to will over to Herus, who eyed it blearily, slowing catching up to the conversation at hand.

“You are both under arrest.” Andradin announced, “Sir Pyter, you are welcome to remain here at Tarva house as you are of blood. You, soldier, will be imprisoned in the barracks. I expect King Erwyn’s regent will sort out your fate.”

Herus looked up groggily, “If Lord Franklin is dead, who is the regent?”

Andradin paused, obviously having overlooked the slight inconvenience of the regent named in the will having been slaughtered at the hands of someone who very well could have been Lady Natasha herself. He was no judge, the thought of condemning Natasha or Erwyn to any fate whatsoever seemed foreign to him. As a soldier, he was accustomed to letting others make the political moves while he merely fought to protect his realm and liege. But this was not just a matter of politics, but of strategy. This was an effort to buy himself time and to make sure he was holding all of the cards, even he did not know how to play them.

“Which Lords are here in King’s Port, Herus?” Andradin asked absent mindedly, forgetting to carry his threat of arrest.

“Lord Eddard, Aislynn Murchadha if you count her ilk, Sir Douglas from the South leads the King’s Gaurd, Sir Pyter of course, you and I obviously.” Herus counted aloud, “Not exactly enough to speak for all seven kingdoms.”

Out of all of these, Andradin only really knew Eddard and Douglas, men who, like himself, had fought with Robert. Ignorant of Douglas’s death, he assumed that the stalwart knight still wore the gold of the King’s Guard, but that honor disqualified him from any others as was tradition. Herus was a minor noble at best, only tangentially connected to any real power beyond the sweep of his sword and Andradin despised the thought of himself ruling anything more than the pleasant hills of Alambil where he was born. He quietly decided to seek out Eddard and take his council on the matter, but it suddenly dawned on him that he had a standing threat to imprison the two men before him.

“Sir Pyter, whatever your name is, I see no reason to pursue your confinement.” Andradin announced pleasantly. “Unless of course either of you can prove any of the nonsense you have dragged in here with you, we shall presume that the king’s seal is the king’s seal and that we, his loyal subjects, should obey his orders.”

Pyter Mokane relaxed, and chose his next words carefully: “I have no evidence with me that Houes Black poisoned the King, for it was Sir Anthony and the Queen who discovered the plot, not I. Anthony was killed by Lord Black last night, and my Queen has fled the city for the sake of her children. However, due to the events last night, House Black and Mokane are at war. Seeing as we both have sizable Garrisons in the Capital, I would advise having both Garrisons leave the city until a peaceful resolution can be met.”

Cambridge opened his mouth to protest, but knew that the Lords cared little for his opinion. Instead he offered another thought: “My Lord, I am a subject of the King, acting only in his interest. Only you have the power to bring Peace to King’s Port and we knew the importance that you had the King’s final wishes in your hand when you did so. With your permission, I shall ride back to Lord Black’s Home with my entourage to protect our future King and await your decision.”

“War.” Andradin said, “Well, that does change things.”

“There can’t be fighting here, Andradin, not so soon after the funeral.” Herus observed, “It would set a curse on the young King’s rule.”

“Sir Pyter, you have spoken wisely, both garrisons will leave the city immediately.” Andradin affirmed. “As for any notion that the King needs you to protect him when there is the King’s Guard… honestly, I do not know where you possibly could have accumulated so much arrogance in so short a time. I will bring this to the attention of Sir Douglas immediately.”

“All these Callraven men are the same,” Herus quipped. He was rewarded with a glare from Andradin and shut his mouth quickly.

“My Lord,” Cambridge spoke up, “ Sir Douglas was killed last night. Most of the King’s Guard is believed to have fled with Lady Natasha. Lieutenant Bloom is acting Commander of the King’s Guard for the young King Erwyn.”

“Sir Douglas?” Andradin was visibly paled at the thought that such an upstanding knight had been murdered. Neither Cambridge nor Pyter responded, giving the Knight the moment to process what happened.

“Lieutenant Bloom is not an anointed knight of the realm, his term of command is over.” Andradin said, after a long pause. “Sir Herus Bracatan will take command of the remaining King’s Gaurd and ride for Callraven immediately to secure the King. You two should leave the city immediately.”

by **Expectareaction** » Sat Jul 16, 2016 1:48 pm

AGWEDON
Acclara had, in truth enjoyed her ride to the city of Agwedon, she
knew what needed and was confident in her ability to get it done. Albin however she had less confidence in, perhaps his clumsy obvious
nature was the reason why he was sent Racia. The Sea People, as she was lead to believe from training about the other peoples of the land,
were said to be a cunning folk by nature.

While she was certain in their mercenary dealings, and whatever other little trading these people did they were shrewd enough, she doubted
they were cultured enough to compose any truly significant intellect.
After all it is said they dismiss entirely the idea of nobility by
birth, and indeed any one of them can refer to themselves as 'Lord' or
use the title 'Ser' and at least amongst themselves brook no more
punishment than laughter.

As day broke, her and her retinue reached the first position from
which they might finally see her first view of the city of Agwedon.
She considered her training about the Sea People, the 'Murchadaens' as
most called them. A name they actually did not generally approve of
themselves. She knew in common tongue they were officially the People
of the Nine Towers, she also knew their name in the old tongue(few she
was certain knew that) it was Tha'an Me'er, it meant People of the
Sea, she found one name particularly telling about their nature. They
generally referred to themselves mainly as 'The People' as if they
were the only ones. She knew Agwedon was the home of Mah Murchadha,
brother of Voprak Murchadha, Lord of house Murchadha.
She also knew that while Mah, sat steward of Agwedon the Sea People as
she understood it, granted him the title 'Herald of the Deep Places'.
As she glimpsed her first view of the city, a thought that had never
occurred to her before did indeed arise in her mind...Herald of the
Deep Places had, a rather sinister undertone.

The city was nothing like what she had expected, it spread out from the
sea in crescent shape that to be 20 miles from end to end, it must
surround the port entirely. From her position the city had to be
several miles wide at its thickest point.

The towers even at this distance were amazing, and fully commanded the
outline of the city, she counted them at a glance, 36 towers, the 9
tallest had to be 300 feet high(she knew this was still not as high as the lighthouse at Hightower).
They swept along the crescent I:.I:.I:.I:.I.:I.:I.:I.:I with the
center tallest tower having its smaller companions stepped out in
front of it... the symmetry was striking, and beautiful.
She clearly had to reconsider her opinion of these people, this was
the work of the educated, the cultured, no savage race could manage
this.

As they approached the walls of the city, the construction became more clear, and so too
could she see that the even the smallest towers dwarfed the tallest
buildings.

Her guard commented on the ingenuity of the initial defenses, and
indeed said he would refer back to her father on the matter. Not being superior to proper fortification, but intelligent and efficient, while clearly cheap and easily employed.
As they approached the outer pre-wall, extending a full furlong from
that wall large posts cut from the felled trees likely removed to have a line of sight for the attackers, were driven into the
ground, extending perhaps on to three feet out of the ground and in
varied thickness, and the rubble of cut stones strewn in amongst them.
Making advancing on the walls with siege equipment neigh impossible,
and even a horse charge impossible-- indeed, the only way to quickly
approach Agwedon, was by sea, or the single road.
Passing through the pre-wall, she could immediately see the road was
about five feet taller than the space between pre-wall and the true-wall, making it easier to go over
the pre-wall to get in, but far more difficult to get out...except by
the road.
The pre-wall itself was a paltry 20 feet high of cyclopean stone construction.
The Main wall, was perhaps 10 feet greater and of large blocks, worked stone and
mortar, well fit together trapezoidal shapes, itself seemed a work
of art for the eyes. Mathematics, yes, they were students of mathematics.

Through the main gate there was no keep, no castle, just those massive
towers and a sprawling city that looked to roll all the way to the
sea.

Swarthy skinned men and women moved about, the entire place seemed one
great market place, and music seemed to come from all directions,
singing from one place, strings from another, drums in many
directions...was that monastic chanting?

And the colors, reds, and purples so rich and full, and deep blues,
and vibrant greens.

Every turn they made they were confronted by people offering shells,
trinkets, fabrics, armor, wanting to buy their swords, she realized a
group of children had begun to follow them...or rather had begun to
follow the horses, they didn't seem very interested in her or her
companions, just in the horses. Sea People were by no means horse
people, and so they were rare in any of their cities.

She had been informed by the appropriate people where and when she
would need to go to find the kind of men she was seeking, and that was
closer to the port, and later in the evening.

There could be no harm in browsing the city's wares, perhaps
purchasing some finery, since to not do so would certainly make her
and her companions stand out.
While she was dark compared to many other peoples of the mainland, the Sea People
would surely consider her light skinned by their standards, as some of
the men looked quite nearly dark blue, and they all seemed to wear
their hair in fashions which she would by absolutely no means do to
her head, in less than an hour she had seen a disturbing number of
women with shaved heads, and men with long braids...and all measure of
difference between.
Only the children seemed untouched by that particular brand of Sea
People pageantry.

....

After night had fallen, Acclara and her companions made their way down
to the sea side streets, to find the kind of taverns that entertained
the kind of men she needed, the kind of ship owners that will do what
was due.

Not but a mere 200ft from a set of docks she found an establishment
that seemed perfect, it was well built, large, loud, and didn't
stink...captains don't need to drink where it stinks. A common
misconception was those men who do the dirty things in life, always
live in dirt was one she was intelligent enough not to hold.

As she entered the tavern, there was an almost imperceptible pause in the
goings on, a brief sizing of the group that had entered. She was a
child of a Lord of a Great House, she had seen the best minds in the
world size up men since the days when she still stood to her father's
knee. No ordinary men could match the calculations of the world in
which she lived.
These men counted swords, and weighed muscle and armor, perhaps
considered the incalcuables of fighting spirit, culture, willingness
to be here...but that was remedial at best.

After a few hours of drinking and songs, the attentions of innumerable
men were turned aside...politely by her companions, she finally made
the acquaintance of a man who said his name was Buryon'Leh'croy and that he
would be happy to introduce her to his employer, a fine man of good
repute with many vessels at his disposal.

She was taken to a table with a slender rope muscled man, of really an
indeterminable age, he was at once young perhaps her age then, from
another angle he coudve been her father's age.

He had his long black hair in arm length braids which sprouted from the top
of his head in a wild unkept fashion, his head shaved on all sides
with hair on top, and twisted in the braids were lovely sea shells,
and tiny finger nail sized porcelain figures, and bones, and charms,
and even a small bell or two.

He smiled as she approached, it seemed even to her well trained court
eyes, a genuine smile that was welcoming without any of the leering so
typical of these kinds of men.
"Please, sit sit and share my table. Drink with me, you and your men
my fine young lady. My name is Bahrown'Syehm'ehdi" this too did not bear any of the lewd innuendo
which was so predictable. His bare chest was exposed and he was well
tattooed as of course many her were, but his seemed different, she
couldn't yet put a finger on why they seemed different but she told
herself not to forget to remember to think about that detail...details
no matter how small could pay large dividends in the future. Her
father had taught her that.

"So, little dear, I am told you want ships, you want to invite the
People to go to do what they are meant to do?"

Her smile was as genuine as she could make it.

"It is a matter, I need settling, a point that can be made now that
certain obstacles are no longer in the way."

"A cunning tongue." Came his curt reply, was she certain she was reading his demeanor correctly?

"You are aware I assume, little dear, of the reputation my people have for keeping the details of a bargain secret, as close a secret as any man could keep." His smile reduced now to merely a slight grin, his lips seemed fixed in perpetual joy and welcoming be it a face splitting smile or this now hinted grin.

"I am." She replied.

"Then please, it benefits us both if I know the true purpose, it makes my chances of supplying you the desired out come much more likely." Was he flirting, she could not tell, she realized at this moment that not since she entered the city did any of the men seem to react in the typical fashion she had seem of commoners, and reputed lewd nature of the Sea People is perhaps their second most famous feature... so why was everyone so demure, no, so subtle, a cultural anachronism she would chew on for later.

"Of course I would be happy to explain with greater detail, I am to take it this means we indeed have a deal...since your notoriously well controlled lips are known to only apply to those with whom an actual deal is struck, I was under the impression we were still discussing terms."

Acclara could hear snickering and a few chuckles from the Sea People who she had not initialized realized were in ear shot.

At this the smile touched Bahrown's eyes a bit more and those dark pools sparkled intently.

He looked at Acclara, up and down he gazed at her, seemed to be going over every inch of her with his eyes, and she was suddenly aware that her man had begun to tense at this, this obvious insult that none had of yet brooked was now being given and doubley well.
Bahrown spoke "I do believe I have calculated a price."
The sound of hands tightening on leather wrapped grips could be heard, but she gave an imperceptible signal for her men to restrain their natural tendency to defend her honor. At that moment she realized as her men relaxed that all of the Sea People in the tavern had been fixed in place... a slaughter, had these men responded to such a crude insult, it would've only ended bloody. This was clearly not a tavern at all, but perhaps what one might call a private barracks, a bunk house. No one in here was random, they were all in together.

Her smile did not waiver

"Excellent" she said never taking her eyes from his, and then leaning in more closely "What would you have, of me"

"You" replied Bahrown.
The rumble from her men as several voices began to spring up made her wince inside...but he never let her face betray that.
"Or rather, little dear, I would have your weight in silver. I apologize, our manner of speaking might offer offense to your bondsmen." He eyed eye of her men in turn with his simultaneously demure yet salacious fashion. Shameless of the innuendo his lack of innuendo conveyed, and fearless as he seemed himself to have no arms yet her man was beside her and did bear, and was clearly fit to fight.

"Is that all? Perhaps I should wash your feet with my hair as well? Bah, I am slight enough, that price can be met."

"I have another condition of employment, that once this is done, with in the year, you call on me once more and agree here and now to contract me again. Never has a mainland Lady, traveled into Agwedon, past the porcelains, fabrics, and silks to step foot here and seek out the likes of me. So I am flattered and intrigued.
Agree to these things, and you have me and mine at your disposal for a moon."
He produced a small knife, and lay a delicate cut across the top of his scarred forehead. She was familiar with this custom, at least in reading, and knew precisely what was expected of her next.

KINGSPORT
Aislynn Murchadha disliked the close quarters of the mainlander cities, they sought refuge in the strength of construction and lived stacked on one another like cord wood, no place could this be said in her mind to be more true than Kingsport. While she was more adept at politicking than perhaps all of her syblings, she was at heart a soldier. and a leader of soldiers. Being caught in a city full of mainlanders who were not particularly fond of them in general was not ideal, though her and her people were exceedingly adept at fighting in close quarters, few realized training to board and take ships required what could be considered the best training for fighting in cities.
She didn't like the numbers or the fact that rather than retreating to ships...which could out run the mainlander ships, she had to move to horses. Her best men on horse back were no match for mainlander's best men on horse back...and while in Kingsport, they were sure to be surrounded by many of the 'best men'.

Urek waiting until they were clear of royal quarters and then, as more of their men gathered around them as they maid their way to the city gates closest to where they had paid for their horses to be kept(outside the gates in surrounding villages) Urek produced a conchhorn, and let lose an undulating bellow, then he passed it to second man who a few moments repeated the bellow Urek had given. It was a rallying call to all of their men. She could not be bothered to wait to form up and then move out, she wanted out now. This signal was the best way to accomplish this, all her men regardless of if they knew why or what was going on, knew that sound meant to fall back to the horses outside the Kingsport gates. Since they were all headed to the same gates, they would all meet anyway.

"You should be married." Urek spoke plainly, and this random statement caught her off guard.

"Are you proposing old man or just making an observation?" she replied and as they quick stepped through the city, the damned congested, giant city.

"I am being serious Aislynn, you need a husband, and children, and to be frank, you are strong enough to take a mainlander husband and bind us to one of them without losing us to them, you could bring them to us, but you need to hurry up. You are not getting any younger."

"I see, so the rose is wilting and you fear it may not be plucked." She laughed out loud.
So did Urek
"Yes Aislynn it is, and I am."
"Well then I shall have to have my consort plough the field to bring new life to my petals."
"Damn it! That is exactly the problem! These mudlovers cant brook the idea of a woman having a consort, arrange a marriage, birth some heirs, then you can go be with Arrass and you've served your family."

"How is your wife Urek?"

He looked at her, stone faced.

"Very well, ignore my advice. At your peril."

Urek, had of course never married.

They were now 40 deep, and still heading for the western gate.

---------------
On the deck of the Junkarr 'Mournbringer', south sea
Voprak stood, watching the men work the rigging,
Voprak's vessel was at the head of his personal squadron.
Nine Junknarr warships, not the largest ships on the sea, but preciously capable of two great things, navigating shallows and the ability to tack against the wind in all weather faster than any other ships in the kingdom.
Voprak had moved his nine vessel squadron to the mouth of the waters leading to Kingsport, the Queen would make her run, and he would be waiting for her. To what end he wasn't certain yet, but surely she would take refuge wherever it might show itself...regardless of how uncertain it might be, and if she needed convincing. Besides the 450 man gang crewing the ships, he had his 405 man personal guard. She would come with him, one way or another... He wanted to rush in to capture her, but he dare not. It would be a blant disrespect to the throne, to time honored traditions...

He would have to wait.

by **The Qoryx** » Mon Jul 18, 2016 12:49 am

Zürich, The Mountainlands
Ordensburg Zürich was a well-defended fortress in the centre of the city, and was home to the barracks of the Qoryxen Iron Guard and the Alpine Council. It was close to the Thur and was guarded by a regiment of the Iron Guard, armed with a balser and dressed in a menacing uniform of red cloth, black cuirass, black shoulder armour, black pointed helmet, and a polished silver facemask. Known as the Alpine Jägergarde (Alpine Hunter Guard), they are an elite group of the toughest women in the Mountainlands, renowned as the fiercest unit in Dienstad. Battles involving the Alpine Jägergarde would usually be particularly bloody ones, as they were trained to fight to the last soldier, taking as many with them as they could. Three infamous battles involving them were saved only because the Alpine Jägergarde slaughtered two entire units of soldiers before being killed off entirely, allowing the remaining forces to defeat the now significantly smaller army. In peacetime, the unit would remain as the ceremonial unit of Ordensburg Zürich and hold the Wachablösung, instilling fear into onlookers and protecting the castle from intruders. One particular favourite among the crowds of onlookers is a movement where the new soldiers replace the old ones, and the old ones form a battle square, march up to the onlookers and just as they're about to run into the crowd, shout in their face and then turn around and march off in complete sync. The sound of their shouts would usually be heard in all areas of Zürich.

The city of Zürich itself was the second most-populated city in Dienstad, second only to King's Port, as it was a natural stopping point between King's Port and the Fertile North East, and a natural "gate" into the Mountainlands, as it were. Nestled on the Thur, with the Wiss Thur, Sihl and Emme canals running throughout the city, Zürich has always been viewed as one of the nicer cities in the Mountainlands. The architecture was predominantly half-timbered houses with a familiar Alpine look, similar to the houses up in the Alps. Ranging from single-family houses in some suburban districts to large Guild Houses with shops on the ground floor and rooms on the remaining top floors, Zürich was a very built-up city that felt 'big' when compared to the other large cities in Dienstad. Also mixed in are a few tall buildings that stretched higher than the standard three to four stories, usually going upwards of six to seven stories, and usually housing the companies one would find in the port lands. A large source of income for House Qoryx, as well as a major source of imports and exports for the Mountainlands, Zürich has always been a bustling city with many streets and alleys traversing the many districts. The main thoroughfares were wide and well-kept, but the further away from them you went, the smaller and less-kept the streets became. These areas became a natural hiding place for those wishing to conduct business undisturbed, and has quickly become known among Dienstadi as a quiet place in which to do business. Well protected by the small streets and the large population, much of the city is supported by the various spies, business(wo)men and nobility who conduct their business for the various Houses of Dienstad. There was a common understanding among those who conducted business here: everyone is watched, and nobody is invincible; if you think you aren't being watched, you're a fool, and if you think you can get away with anything, you're a dead man. While House Qoryx was not the most well-suited to intelligence gathering, it was the best positioned to pay others to do so for them, and it took complete advantage of that fact.

Herzog Johannes himself was a famed diplomat among Dienstad, but was a poor military commander; one of very few in the Mountainlands. He was respected among the Lords of Dienstad, but not quite trusted. While being an ally of House Qoryx was a powerful statement, it was not one of complete assurance to the allied House unless there was real weight placed behind the alliance on the part of the Qoryx family. This usually involved a marriage, or inviting the family for a visit to Zürich and the Alps, although was never acutely known by the rest of Dienstad.

The day of the funeral

Herzog Johannes enjoyed walking around the city of Zürich amongst his people. He trusted them, and they trusted him; it was something House Qoryx has done since Herzog Konrad first brought the Alpine folk down from the Alps. He listened to his people, helped where he could and told stories to children. As one of the younger Lords of Dienstad, he viewed himself a progressive social leader, but that was the extent of his capabilities. His people were tough and were the descendants of the Mountaineers that still live upon those sacred hills, so what he lacked in military capabilities, he made up for in leadership and strategy. This particular walk was one of surveillance; seeing how his people were handling the death of their King and listening to the questions and worries of his people. However, he ended up not needing to do much of the latter two. From the way his people were handling the death of the King, it was apparent that there was no love for him; only respect for his title. This feeling is one that he shared; his Father has been a close ally of Robert during the rebellion but he held no affection for the fat, lazy, pig of a man Dienstad called King. Alas, he was the diplomat of his people, so he had to talk the talk as though the King was a revered figure. The way he explained it to his people though, they knew how he truly felt - this made him even more revered than his own King.

Thus, he had sent his Brother-in-Law to King's Port, as he was the closest but highest ranking member of the family, to the funeral of the King. One of his Brother-in-Law's bannermen was the Master of Coin, meaning Graf Humphrey and Gräfin Feodora had to protect their own in case of treachery. The Graf considered the likelihood as slim, thus he did not take much precaution, merely protecting the family and their quarters. However, Johannes was not as naïve as Humphrey was, and had sent messages to the Fürsten of Bern, Schwyz, Freiburg and Zürich, and the Kommandant of Goldshire, to make sure they were alert and prepared for any eventuality. He also gathered the Alpine Council together to review and alter plans for the defence of the Mountainlands.

The Alpine Council consisted of the Herzogin-Mutter; Herzog and Herzogin von Qoryx; Fürst of Zürich; Quilion of the Iron Guard; liaisons from the Principalities of Bern, Schwyz and Freiburg; and adjutants of the Commander of Goldshire and the Count of Rosenport. It was formed by Herzog Konrad and has helped maintain order and progress in the Mountainlands for hundreds of generations. Deep inside Ordensburg Zürich, the Alpine Council stood around a thin table at waist height, and Johannes quickly got down to the business at hand.

"Alright, knowing our position right now is key to staying ahead of all eventualities. Konstanz, move the Iron Guard to their designated defence positions, and increase our eyes in the Alps. Anyone so much as throws a pebble into the Mountainlands - I want to know about it. The only people who will be granted in are House Bracatan, House Lamont, House Mokane and obviously our own folk. That being said, maintain discretion about this. Our populace need not know much of what is happening, much less the other Houses."

Konstanz bows his head in approval like every Qoryxen soldier, and Johannes continues.

"Konrad, I want you to listen for anything happening in the Realm that I should be aware of. Hold a party in Paradeplatz and make sure the wine and ale flows well into the morning; I want to ensure any news travellers may have is said - just be sure to filter out the impossible. To the adjutants present, be sure your Lords cut off any contact with King's Land, and feed any information they gather to the Council for us to act on it. And make sure to bring any questions or requests they have to me personally. I can't help my family if I don't know what they need, alright?"

The two liaisons bow their head in approval just as Konstanz did, and depart to carry out their orders.

"Good, now I want to see everyone at the remembrance feast tonight. Walk with me Mother?"

Margaret smiled and departed the room together with her son, the rest of the Council following in chase.

Ordensburg Zürich, Principality of Zürich
After the events in the Iron Keep

Johannes shivered after reading the words from his kin in King's Port. Tommen Goldshire dead. Official word Queen responsible. Unofficial word from trusted sources say now slain Blacks murdered Small Council, Queen and King's Guards arrived after, tried stopping them. Queen fled city. Erwyn Black proclaimed King, Franklin Black proclaimed Protector. Signed, Schulmeister. He was shocked. He and Tommen were close, and it provided Johannes with direct information from the Capital. He sat there thinking of what the possible reasons were for House Black to do this, or the Queen for that matter, but he trusted the Queen and her family more than anyone in the Mountainlands trusted House Black. This bit of news filled him with anger as he stood up from his desk and stormed to the Maester's house. The Maester lived in a house along the Wiss Thur canals that stood above the local houses, rising well above the other rooftops to provide for the landing of ravens. It was from his house that he conducted his duties, and he employed various people to help him do so making his house one of constant bustle. With guards accompanying him, Johannes made his way through the busy streets of Zürich and, upon arriving at the Maester's house, ordered one of the guards to alert his son Konrad of his pending arrival. He knew he wouldn't be long here anyway, but he appreciated the Maester's advice and knowledge on such things.

He entered the tall house and proceeded to the third floor where he usually found the Maester. Behind his desk as always, the Maester smiled as he saw Johannes enter his workspace.

"Johannes! What brings you to Haus zum Rüden? I presume you saw the message sent from King's Port. I'm terribly sorry for your loss, I know he was a close friend and relative to you. It goes without saying that the entire guild is at your disposal, even outside of our sworn duty to you."

Johannes smiled at his old mentor, and took a seat at his desk.

"Thank you Maester. Yes, I came here regarding that actually - what do you make of it all? I am more inclined to treat the unofficial word of the Queen as more truthful, because her version sounds a little more believable than the official words that spew from the mouths of House Black. Wretched people, they are."

"Level heads must prevail my Lord, else you will act or react with foolishness. House Black may not be trustworthy, but at least we have some leverage with the newly-hailed King being only 8 years old. There is some room for action there, or inaction. That I will leave up to your Lordship's discretion. As for the Queen's version of events - knowing House Mokane as I do, the words they speak sound more plausible and more honourable. House Black is no match for us on the ground, but they do have the political advantage for the time being and it would be in our best interests to have them crushed like the bug they are. Especially in the scene they are winning right now."

Johannes smiled and nodded in agreement with the Maester.

"Yes, great idea. Send a message to the rest of Dienstad for public annoucement, declaring that 'Lord Black murdered the Small Council and his House shall be considered to have instituted a coup against the King, trying to take the Golden Throne for themselves when they have no legal right. The Queen came to the rescue and stopped Lord Black, killing him and the rest of his traitorous soldiers. Long Live Queen Natasha, Protector of the Realm.' Does that sound sufficient enough? I think so. Oh, and I want to cease all financial contributions to King's Port, and I want the garrison in Goldshire and Rosenport to be on high alert. Can't be too careful, you know. Oh, and send a message to one of your 'friends' in Callraven. I want to have a parcel delivered somewhere nobody will find, for safe keeping."

The Maester nodded and fetched some nearby aides, whispered in their ears and they rushed off to complete their tasks.

"You have the full discretion of my aides, my Lord, you need not worry. It will be done, and I have someone in mind for that parcel's safe keeping, would you agree?"

He whispers a name into Johannes' ear and Johannes smiles, nodding happily.

"Yes I believe we are in agreement on that assignment. Now, I want it known to the rest of the Mountainlands that anyone associating with or allied to House Black shall be considered enemies. I will speak to Konstanz and ensure there is no support for House Black in the Mountainlands. Thank you for your time Maester, I always appreciate your guidance."

Johannes bows his head slightly, which the Maester returns, and then makes his way out of the house. Upon reaching the street, he motions for his guards to take him to his son's castle in the mountains. Along the way he sees the usual city merchants going about their business in the many street markets, the usual import merchants selling items shipped in along the Thur river from all over Dienstad, and the usual shady business being conducted in the narrow alleys. A perfect day, he thinks to himself as they approach the castle.

He meets his son in his chambers and gets right to the point.

"Konrad, I need you for a task. We've been sent a raven from the Capital saying that Tommen Goldshire was killed along with the rest of the small council and Lord Black, leaving Erwyn Black as heir by the King's supposed Will. Find the Queen and get her talking, and then send an official envoy to ask about whether House Lamont wants to go through with the plans discussed earlier. Oh and, arrange for a parcel to be delivered from Callraven to somewhere isolated. I'm sure those seafaring barbarians would be happy to oblige."

Konrad smirked and nodded, "Are we sure we want to involve the barbarians in this, though? They're only simple pirates after all."

"Simple people make the best mercenaries, especially for this task. See if they can ride as fast as they can from King's Port, and slip in through the cover of night. I want them to be gone before anyone wakes up and takes notice. Now, I have another job for you as well."

Johannes grabs a map of Dienstad from Konrad's shelf and unfurls it on his desk, taking a seat next to his son. He points to Raiderfall.

After receiving the "Last Will and Testament of Robert Lamont" message

Johannes stood up and slammed his fist on the desk. Konstanz and the Maester took a step back, startled by the sudden noise.

"This is absolutely unbelievable! House Callraven has it in their head that House Black now owns Rosenport and Goldshire! What a bunch of useless, spineless-."

He stopped himself and sighed, gathering his thoughts. The Maester steps forward a bit, trying to bring some reason to the enraged Herzog.

"If I may say so my Lord, we may use this to our advantage. I can write to your Nephew-in-Law, I'm sure he will share in our outrage."

Johannes looked at the Maester for a moment, thinking through what could be meant, before smiling and nodding.

"Yes, do so. Alert Humphrey as well of what has transpired."

The Maester bows in agreement and leaves to send that message.

"Konstanz, I want you to send a message to Fürst Ludwig in Freiburg. Tell him to put his Order on alert. Then, send a message to Fürst Hans in Winterthur. He will move to where previously mentioned "

Konstanz bows in agreement and leaves as well to catch up with the Maester. Johannes looks down at a map of the Mountainlands and surrounding area, and contemplates what he will do next.

Rosenport, King's Land

Edward Stafford, a young man of only 16, looked over the parchment carefully. He had been well taught by his Father in the game of politics, but was still an amateur and relied on others who were more experience than he to help him in making those decisions. Having been told to start making decisions in the best interest of his House upon the departure of his Father to King's Port, he turned to Rosenport's Maester for advice on what decisions to make.

"Maester, what do you make of all this? Should I trust my Uncle Johannes with what is said here?"

The Maester, an elderly man for the times, seemed to laugh under his breath before speaking clearly, albeit a bit mumbly between statements.

"Oh I wouldn't trust that Alpine man for a thousand crowns..heh...oh certainly I would not! That man is as slippery as a snake...eh, and you can't trust him! I've told that to your Father ever since he agreed to marry that blasted woman from the Mountains! ..ehh, No good would ever come from allying with them I've said!"

Edward nodded and thought for a moment. He then smiled and thanked the Maester for his advice, and asked to have the Commanders of the 4th and 5th Orders brought in, as well as a Liaison Officer from the 5th Order in Goldport. Upon their arrival, he sat them down at the table he was seated at and informed them of his decision.

"I've brought you three here because I've received a royal statement from King's Port, proclaiming Rosenport and Goldshire to belong to House Black, and for us to swear fealty to them. I intend to do that in name only, but do not explain this to your soldiers. Roger, march the 4th Order to King's Port under the guise of joining the King's Royal Army, and John I want the entire garrison of Heavy Cavalry and Infantry to leave Goldshire carrying the banner of your Lord, and meet up with the 4th Order along the way. I will be sending a message to the Lord of Rosenport, my Father, to inform him to announce the arrival and supposed intentions of your Order. Arrive, Count Humphrey will welcome you with Lord Andradin, and quietly inform Count Humphrey of your intentions. He will guide you on when and how to carry it out. Your ultimate goal is to have your soldiers discreetly slaughter everyone in the Royal Barracks and burn the place to the ground. From there, Count Humphrey will dictate your moves, as I am but his son. However, I cannot stress enough that this cannot leave this room. Are we all in agreement?"

The three men nodded and left to carry out their orders, leaving the young Edward to write a note back to his Uncle, Herzog Johannes, and his Father, Count Humphrey.

King's Port, King's Land

Count Humphrey and his wife Feodora had arrived a few days in advance of the funeral, spending their time talking with the other courtesans and enjoying restaurants, brothels, baths and gardens. Keeping in close contact with one of his bannerman Tommen Goldshire and his Brother-in-Law Johannes von Qoryx, Count Humphrey gathered information and drafted ideas on how to best participate in what was to come. He had received a message from Johannes only hours before the one from his son, and he liked that his son was using Johannes' tactic and weeding out people that he knew would not be useful to their cause.

He brought his wife Feodora with him to the Throne room and proclaimed that House Stafford would be swearing allegiance to House Black, and would be bringing in a force of 4,500 to support the King's Royal Army, deterring invaders and keeping the city safe in support of the Gold Cloaks. The courtesans mostly applauded the effort, a few pulling him or his wife aside and thanking them for the support of their army and for providing men to protect them. He pulled Lord Andradin aside and began speaking with him about his plans.

by **Mokastana** » Mon Jul 18, 2016 9:40 am

Lord Mokane’s personal War Galley
Somewhere in the Bay of Kings

The Mokane Family had always been Sea folks. Originally they founded the city of Port Mokane, with cousins founding the cities of Port Emerald and Lorasport soon after. Like most people of the Sea, their history in the North was a long and bloody one. Unlike the true “People of the Sea" however, they were fishermen and traders, which made them prime targets for their cut throat brethren of the waves. Their ancestral seat was Port Mokane, a city east of modern Raiderfell, well protected on the coast. It was safe between two rivers and had a strong wall against the shore. In the days before the Macabee Kings, no one could touch it and laying siege was a fools task. At least until five centuries ago, when a Reaver named Don Havnman the Cruel came from the Sea. He wanted to wipe out the merchants and fisherman to start his own empire with his own people in the North. To prove his power, he started with an attack on Port Mokane.

Though the defenders fought bravely, they lost the city and fled inland. After pillaging and burning the city to the ground, the Raiders followed. They caught up to the remaining Mokane forces at a point where two smaller rivers met to make the Great Southern River that had protected Port Mokane in the past. Reinforced from Port Emerald, they fought in this natural enclave, raining arrows down on the reavers. The few spots to cross the river acted as choke points, preventing the raiders from using their superior numbers. Then Havnman the Cruel fell in battle, resulting in his army routing and eventually disbanding. Though it was a victory, it was a pyrrhic one, the main line if House Mokane was killed in the campaign, leaving the coastal nation to a cousin. In honor of his fallen family, the new home of House Mokane was built at the site of this battle and named for it, Raiderfell. After rebuilding their strength, House Mokane led many of the Northern Houses on a crusade to defeat the sea raiders. Today, the Fertile North East is the only corner of Dienstad free of Murchadha raiders.

Lord Alexander Mokane was told that story as a young boy, handed down from father to son since the founding of Raiderfell. A reminder to remain ever vigilant. His sister, the King’s widow, sat on a wooden stool in his private room. The door was closed, keeping prying eyes and ears from their conservation.

“Natasha? What happened? Why did Robert turn power over to the man that poisoned him?”

Alexander asked the question that had been on his mind since the day they left. It seemed like straight deception, but something didn't sit right. He was unfamiliar with Court politics, but he knew that he needed to know more.

“Brother, King Robert was a good man, a great warrior and father, but he was no good at politics. He tried, he really did, but Lord Black always had his ear. Got him involved in the politics of the Small Houses: House Black, Calavar, Stone. House Westover was smart, and tried to stay out of it.

When I was sick, and after our son died, Franklin convinced Robert to marry my daughter to his family, to keep the Royal Bloodline on the throne if he could not get another heir. Bastard claimed a Small House would rule without favoritism unlike the large Houses. Robert trusted him. By the time I recovered... Arianna, my daughter, was promised to Erwyn Black. We tried again for an heir, but I... I couldn't….”

Natasha felt her eyes water, blinking them away she let the anger mask her feelings:

“The Small Houses don't have the influence to rule all of Dienstad, even with a Royal Army. Franklin and Erwyn’s legacy would be watching Dienstad tear itself apart over that Golden Chair. Just watch, House Bracatan won't serve a Black King.Lord Brulja Lamont won't accept that Will. I tried to talk Robert out of it, but he wouldn't listen.

When Robert fell on the hunt, I suspected treason, but the Gran Maester found no trace of poison in Robert’s wine. None on his lips.”

“How did you find out about the poison?”

“What else could it have been?"

Natasha saw the inquiry on her brother's face, she continued before he could ask for more: "Sir Anthony, Robert’s Master of Secrets and our dear friend, found a vile of poison in the home of Franklin's Captain of the Guard. He slept permanently that night.”

Alexander was about to respond when the commotion of the crew caught his ear. A voice cried out “Ships!” Alexander had wanted their voyage out of the city to be without complications, yet here they were. Leaving his sister under the deck he climbed up, had the Royal Navy found them already? The only thing worse would be…

“Nine pointed Stars! Murchadha! Bows and poles! To bows and Poles!”

North Eastern Bowmen were well known for their skills, and many of the crew and Alexander's personnel Guard were hand selected for their skills with such a weapon. The test to be a member of the Lord's guard included riding in a boat down river and hitting a target boat while both rode the waves. However, the bow wasn't the only weapon used by House Mokane. The Pollaxe, though less of an axe and more of a spear with an additional sideways spike, was used in place of spears at sea. The spike could act as a hook, either to pull ships closer, hook under an opponent's leg, or pull down shields. It could also be brought down with force on helmets and armor, often breaking through the iron or leather. Pollaxe soldiers had tall rectangular shields with torches painted on then, often forming a testudo style wall to protect the bowman. Ship combat was terrible, but the Mokanes were familiar with it.

The Other ship, commanded by the King’s(now Queen’s) Guard, began dressing in their Heavy Armor and preparing their swords and shields. No doubt being the ship with a Crown on its sails gave it away who was, supposed to be, on board.

43 Queen’s Guard soldiers, plus their crew of 40 on one ship. Alexander's personnel Guard of 28, plus his ship's crew of 60. Roughly 170 against a fleet of Reaver Junkarrs. The Queen’s Guard stood on deck, positioned on the sides looking like a wall of soldiers. While the Mokane ship, with their larger shields, formed an actual wall of iron with pollaxes pointed out. Only a few spotters looked over the shield wall to see what would happen next.

Castle Black,
Home of House Black
Callraven

Paul Black sat at the head of the family table, meeting with his generals and trusted advisors. Things were not looking great.

“Franklin was a fool. Trying to arrest the Queen without back up from the Royal Army. Now our garrison has been ordered out and young Erwyn is upstairs, not sitting on the throne.”

With Franklin dead and Erwyn visiting family in Callraven, Paul assumed the duties of Hand of the King. It wasn't hard to get Erwyn to agree, for Uncle Paul was always nice to him. Of course, Uncle Paul was less friendly with other matters.

“General, how many soldiers do we have ready to march?”

“2,800 soldiers, but that would leave us defenseless.”

“How many would you leave to defend and begin recruiting new soldiers?”

“I would advise at least a 1,000. 1,500 if possible. We can recruit another 3,000 and have them battle ready in four months.”

“Leave one thousand here, the others will join Erwyn and I on the road to King’s Port. We will rally with the Garrison heading back. Maester, send a Raven to the other Small Houses, calling for Banners to back the True King of Dienstad. Stone is sworn to us, they will back us, though last I heard they only have 1,500 soldiers. Ensure our rear is protected. The last thing I want is a Bracitan Army assaulting us from the rear when we corinate the new King”

“House Westover has nearly 6,000 men in their army, they would be a good deterrent.”

“House Westover won't commit to either side until they've already won, or we offer them something worth risking their lives for. House Calavar should back us given their family now runs the Royal Army. No, we need to make House Bracatan our allies. Offer them seats on the new Small Council, marriages, whatever, find out what they want and we'll negotiate.

As for this, debacle with Rosenport and Goldshire, I don't know what Franklin was thinking advising the King to add that, but without Tommen Goldshire we have no influence over them.”

“My Lord, House Stafford declared for King Erwyn, and offered to march 4,500 Royal Soldiers to King’s Port.”

“You mean Humphrey von Stafford, the man who's wife's family has publicly declared for the Queen? House Qoryx has declared for the traitor Queen, why would their relatives betray them? Because our previous idiot King told them to? I don't believe them. Not yet. Send word to Rosenport that the their King and House Black thank them for their Loyalty, but we do not require them to swear to House Black, only the new King. Instead we request they use their armies to secure the Eastern front, in case of invasion by those who support the Traitor Queen. Signed Lord Paul Black, Hand of the King and Protector of the Realm.”

Paul took a second to collect his thoughts. House Qoryx and House Mokane were already in rebellion, with Bracatan next if not sedated. Huntley and Gilligan were undeclared. House Lamont had been sent the Will but no response yet. Paul was good at politics, but he had only been playing the game with minor Houses while Franklin played in King’s Port. Though he knew his brother was Hand of the King, he never thought the duty would fall to him, much less Protector of the Realm. If he was to honor the last King’s Will, he needed the Traitor Queen imprisoned. Yes, she was an usurper, but one with influence. If House Lamont decided to be an usurper as well, he'd find a solution for that later.

“Send a message to Nikomyra, the People of the Sea are old rivals to House Mokane. Tell them the King offers an equivalent weight in Gold for capture and return of the Traitor Queen and her daughters, alive. In addition, the King is willing to support their claims on any Port City currently occupied by House Mokane. Signed Lord Paul Black, Hand of the King and Protector of the Realm.

Maybe that will get us the leverage we need to get support."

King’s Port
The King’s Land

It was the night after the House Black announced the murder of the Hand of the King by the Queen, many Lords had fled the Capital rather than declare for the New King. One who stayed however, was Lord Andrew Gilligan, hoping to find information on what happened to Sir Douglas. So far the only information was rumors, all claiming he died in the fighting between the Queen and the Hand. Conflicting reports as to who's hand was responsible came in, some said Lord Black ordered his execution, others the Queen killed him to silence their affair. No one knew for sure.

In the Port, Royal Army forces watched the House Mokane garrison, still led by Pyter Mokane, load up in their ships to head north. On the opposite side of town, House Black's garrison took to the King’s Road, both on orders of the Royal Army and to rally with the Black Army bringing the New King to King’s Port. The city was tense, so when a visitor came to Lord Andrew Gilligan's residence late at night, it was something of a concern.

At least until the figure identified himself as Pyter Mokane, cousin of the Queen.

"My Lord, I heard you are still in the City, and wanted to meet with you before you go. I am Pyter Mokane, commander of the Queen's Family Garrison and her cousin. A little sparrow told me you were looking for Sir Douglas. I do not know what you heard, but I was there on the fighting, and can tell you truth. Sir Douglas was loyal to his Queen, and fought to protect her when the Hand of the King came to arrest her. He was killed at the order of Lord Franklin Black. The Queen killed Lord Black personally in return. I fear I must leave tonight, but soon House Black will call on you for support. I will support my Queen, who will you back?"

by **Mokastana** » Fri Jul 29, 2016 11:01 am

Road to Raiderfell
The trip of Fürst Konrad von Qoryx

Konrad’s trip to Raiderfell would be a few days, but his first stop outside of Zurich would no doubt be The Redfort. The city itself was simply called ‘Redfort’, named after the red stone fortress that overlooked the sea and the bridge near the mouth of River Erin. The Red Bridge was one of the few bridges capable of crossing the rushing waters that made up the natural border between House Qoryx and House Mokane. The Red Fort itself had stood since before Raiderfell, guarding the trade routes between the mountains and the Northern farmlands. After the Mokanes built a Northern Empire, it exploded into a bustling trade city as trade between the North East and Zurich boomed. As such, the city was a melting pot of cultures: Sea Folk from the docks, farmers and traders from the North, and Mountain Folk from the West. Even the city's Lord, Tyler Abhain of the Lesser House Abhain, took a formal title in the style of the Alpine: Graf von Redfort.

House Abhain had been sworn to Mokane since the North East unified under Raiderfell, but they also held a high respect for House Qoryx. Konrad’s visit was celebrated with a feast in his honor. Fish and wine flowed for the occasion, but just outside the Castle’s Keep, the drums of war were beating.

Even without orders from Raiderfell, Tyler had heard the news and his levies were training additional troops. His craftsmen were laying more boats in the docks. He was preparing for war. The 900 initial levies under the Red Fort Banner were growing to nearly 3,500. Graf Abhain was fiercely loyal to House Mokane, and offered to join Konrad on his journey to Raiderfell.

Their next major stop before Raiderfell would be Torchwood, as the road followed the River Erin north. The city of Torchwood was another coastal city, only instead it focused on trade with others on Lake Geneva. While the city itself was on the Mokane side of the River, castle Torchwood rested on an island between two smaller rivers that fed into The River Erin. It also maintained control of the important bridges that crossed the River. If traffic came from anywhere else besides Zurich, it passed through Torchwood instead of Redfort.

Torchwood was the smallest city in the North East, barely 160,000 lived under the Torchwood banner. Their 800 banner men almost entirely devoted to the bridges and castle. The city itself grew more like a supply stop than a city, merchants selling supplies for the road, mercenaries for protection against bandits, wagons for sale and breeders with trained horses. Most came to Torchwood because the rivers were too harsh to cross anywhere else and Redfort was too far south.

Even it's ruling family, House Fluss, was believed to have originated from the Alpine lands. Though their roots might have once been Alpine, they were now firmly Northmen. Still, they to had prospered under the economic growth of a unified North East and trade from the west, so Konrad Qoryx was more than welcomed into their home. Another feast was held, for feasts were how you treated honoured guests in the North East, and even a dance was hosted in the visitors honor. Though that was more due to Lord Fluss’ love of music and celebrations. As they bid their farewell, Lord Fluss remained in Torchwood, he would wait for his Lord to dispatch orders.

The road to Raiderfell itself was surrounded by farms, fields of grain as far as the eye could see. The warm weather was comfortable, and many farmers and peasants would stop their work to see the banners of Redfort and Qoryx pass by. The solid white with a single red keep on a blue base of House Abhain, and the nearly solid red of House Qoryx.

Finally, Raiderfell came into view. The city had grown many times in it's life. It started as a stout stone keep on the Eastern banks and a thick stone wall around the small village around it. This had become the home of House Mokane. Built as a fortress that doubled as a home. Around that, another wall was added, protecting the now inner villages on the castle's West and across the rivers. The third wall was added more recently, less than a hundred years ago. It wasn't as high or strong as the interior walls, but it had archer towers and cleared areas for easy shooting(It might have also had a supply of wildfire if the rumors were true.). Once inside, the city reflected it's mostly disorganized growth, with districts divided by walls and age, but they were here to see the Lord Mokane. Which was Diego Mokane, heir and son of Alexander Mokane.

His Grand Hall was stone and wood, with tall thin windows allowing in the light from the north. As he saw the two men approach his family's table he stood.

“Fürst Konrad von Qoryx, Graf Tyler of Abhain, welcome to Raiderfell. For what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?”

by **United States of PA** » Fri Jul 29, 2016 10:16 pm

Huntfall, Great Hall

Huntfall was old, older than House Huntley itself.

As Robett Huntley wandered around the Great Hall and Old Keep, he could not help but be clouded by some doubts. He was almost a man grown, but the past few weeks without his father, Eddard, had shown him just how unprepared for rule he was, despite all his learning.

It was tedious and boring, two things which Robett hated more than anything else, but his father had insisted that he rule himself while he was gone, and one did not disobey Eddard Huntley and expect not to have retribution against them.

So he ruled, he listened to the smallfolk and their issues and did his best, though often it seemed it was not near enough. Wolves were kill livestock, so he sent men out to hunt them. A thief here or a murderer there required punishment.

That was something else his father was adamant about, that the Lord was to hand out the punishment himself, so he did. A hand here, a head there, it came more naturally than he had expected, taking a mans life. He had been watching father execute murderers and rapists since he was 8, but had never actually taken a life until now.

At times though he required a break from ruling, surely father would understand, so he went hunting with some friends and men at arms from the castle. Sometimes though, out of sight of his mother he found company in the arms of some courtesan for a night. Father wouldn’t care, but mother might skin him alive if she found out, and mother always got her way, so he did it discreetly.

Today was a different matter though, he had returned from a hunt with a couple of deer and a very large boar that he had slew himself. The castle would feast well tonight, though he had thought to save the animals for a few days and invite some of the local vassal lords to a small feast, gain their trust and love. Just the ones within a day’s right.

All those plans came unraveled when Maester Frenken met him at the gates with a scroll bearing the Royal Sigil, and that of House Black.

I, King Robert Lamont, Lord of the King’s Lands, King of Dienstad and Protector of the Realm, First of his name, in an effort to bring out peace and everlasting prosperity to the Realm of Dienstad, do declare that the Rightful Heir of the the Golden Throne to be Erwyn Black, the eldest son of Franklin Black. I name Franklin Black, Hand of the King and Lord of Callraven, to be the Protector of the Realm until his son comes of age to rule in his own right. My eldest Daughter, Arianna Lamont, shall marry the eldest son of Lord Black to ensure the Royal Bloodline continues. If either shall pass before marriage, the duty of marriage shall fall to their next sibling.

The King’s Lands are to be divided as follows:

Golden Keep is to be considered property of House Huntley, as payment for their services to myself and the future Kings of House Black.

Rosenport and Goldshire shall become property of House Black. The Lords are to swear loyalty to House Black and I advise a marriage between House Black of Callraven and House Stafford of Rosenport.

The Royal Army shall be led by Sir Andradin Calavar of Alambil, who has guarded King’s Port well during my rule and now shall organize the Royal forces of of Golden Keep, Rosenport, Goldshire, and King’s Port as he sees fit. He shall continue to serve House Black as he has served me these years.

This is the Last Will and Testament of I, King Robert Lamont.

[Signature]
[Seal of the crown]

At first glance, the raven revealed nothing that required acting on. The part involving the Golden Keep would be best left to the handling of his father and Uncle Benjen he knew, so he dismissed the Maester at first and told him to hang onto the piece of parchment until his father returned, than he produced a second one, originating from the Golden Keep.

It was stained in blood, and Frenken explained that the bird had been injured en-route, probably by a hawk. Robett than read the parchment, and events starting clicking in his brain.

“Queen murdered the Hand” “Traitor” “Rebellion” all stood out as the acting Lord of the Golden Keep, a Ser Belthasar, who signed the parchment after relaying all the rumor’s streaming out of Kings Port, by raven and ship. He also reported sightings of Murchadha ships near Kings Bay, and advised House Huntley to keep a sharp eye on the coast, as he was doing with the Royal Fleet at the mouth of Kings Bay.

But why was he hearing this from some Hedge Knight at the Golden Keep instead of by Raven from his father? Was it possibly him and his Uncles were captives, or worse dead? And the sightings of Murchadha ships, while they were a noble family all their own and had as much right to see the former King’s funeral as any, this did not explain the presence of warships near the Blackwater.

He dismissed the Maester once again, and told him to send ravens to Houses Blacktyde, Locke, Hannen, Mallory, Netley and Lonnen, telling them of the warning from Golden Keep. He then made a decision to see the castles Master at Arms, old portly Ser Brandon Netley. A younger brother of a old Lord Netley, Ser Brandon had acquitted himself well in Robert’s rebellion, and was offered Huntfall’s Castellan and Master of Arms position after the old one was killed. As he was far out of line to inherit House Netley’s seat, he had accepted, and excelled in the role ever since.

Close to 50 now, the man was not near the fighter he once was, but he knew enough to teach recruits and teach them well, and he was smart and experienced, important traits for a castellan. Thus Robett sought to seek him and his counsel out on the two ravens, and what to do.

Huntfall, Old Keep Courtyard

Robett found the old Knight in the courtyard, training some new recruits for the City Watch of Hunts Town. No town at all but a large city, so it required an equally large watch to keep the peace. Thanks to how the city and castle walls were one at various portions, his father and his father’s father’s had decided that the watch should be as well trained in combat as a man at arms would be for the defense of the castle.

And so the role fell to old Ser Brandon. As he saw Robett coming, he told the dozen men that training was over for the day and to go get some dinner, causing Robett to notice how hungry he was himself.

“Ser Brandon, I need some counsel, and some food myself, will you accompany me?

“Certainly milord, what is the issue today?”

“We received two ravens today, one from Kings Port, which by itself is of no concern, but also one from the Golden Keep, which has alarmed me. Some Ser Belthasar wrote talking of how the Queen has murdered Lord Black, the hand of Queen, treason, rebellion and the presence of Murchadha raiders near the Kings Bay and Blackwater. I’ve already had Maester Frenken write Houses Locke, Blacktyde and the major houses on the Stone Shore to keep their eyes on the sea, but it is the rest of it that bothers me. Why did we not receive a raven from my father instead of this hedge knight?”

“Ser Belthasar is no hedge knight milord, he is a very capable sea captain from House Condon, a minor house sworn to the Golden Keep. He is your uncle’s right hand man down there, and as much the head of the Royal Navy there as Ser Benjen. As for why he wrote us this instead of your father, I cannot say, though I hope no ill fortune has befallen Lord Eddard and your uncles. If there is truly a rebellion happening, and the Hand of the King is dead, it is possibly he had to flee the city without the time to send a raven, or perhaps the bird was killed by a hawk on the way. I would take Belthasar at his word though, he is a good man”

“If there is a rebellion underfoot, we are sworn to the throne, we should call the banners and march to the crown’s aid!”

“While I agree on calling the banners, I think we should wait until we find out where your father is to march. May be that this is nothing, but if it is, we do not know who our enemy is. If the Queen did murder the hand, the rest of House Mokane may have no hand in what is going on, or perhaps House Black tried to seize power by some fashion, in which cause they would be the rebels”

Robett pondered his word’s for a moment, and made his decision

“Ser Brandon, if you would be so kind as have the servants bring a pair of dinners up to the Maesters turret, I feel I need to send some ravens”

“Very well milord”

And with that the man and the boy parted. By nightfall, there were ravens flying to every corner of the east, warning of potential raids by the sea people.

The second part of the message called on all the vassal lords of the east to send as many men as they could to Huntfall, and to begin raising as many additional levies as possible. The Golden Keep also received such a raven, since it was now officially House Huntley land, its men were now sworn to them as well.

They would be needed, since war was upon the realm again.

More hunting would also be needed, as the Lord's who would come with their men were sure to have large appetites. At least that part would be fun Robett decided.

by **Expectareaction** » Sat Jul 30, 2016 12:09 pm

OOC: Will try and take minimal liberties with others characters, and treat with the utmost respect.

IC:

On the deck of the Junkarr 'Mournbringer', south sea

The ship they had hoped for had been spotted, that of course didn't mean their quarry would aboard her.

The Nine ship squadron of Voprak's JunKnarr had spread out to cover the most likely lines of travel, and as is appropriate the Obeja'Orlwa show respect to the High Obeja, and it is Voprak's ship to first spot the sails of the Royal ship, most likely to have the Queen aboard, though Voprak's personal guard had voiced doubts about that, the consensus was finally reached that both would be stopped, and if that became impossible, then at least the one bearing the crown would be.

In due course the other vessels in his squadron would be made aware of this.

As the crowned sails were spotted a man(or perhaps woman) clad in the colorful armor of Voprak's guard grabbed a large shell shaped horn and an undulating tone in deep bass notes reverberated out. The soldier stood high aft, and after a few moments, the response of other vessels could be heard, each in their turn, in the military discipline of their order.

Voprak's guard were comprised of Obeja fighters, trained in the esoteric nature of the People's faith, indoctrinated from an early age to serve as the steel of sea. Unlike reavers, raiders, or the merchants of the Peoples who fought out of simple tradition and basic belief, the Obeja'Wara'Meire(Faithful People of the Obeja) were best described as fanatics by most. By some meter they were comparable to the Knights of the mainlanders, or to Monastic orders. Voprak counted himself fortunate however that he had mingled in some of his personal house guard amongst them...fanaticism had draw backs, and so he kept a wary eye on the Wara'Meire.

On the deck of the Queen's vessel
The captain, being a weathered and well trained seaman of a long many years and having served the crown, and having opportunity to hae personal experience with the Sea People, immediately began barking out orders to his well trained crew, and in point of fact to the soldiers.
"Pins and axes lay at the ready! Helmsman take us broad to running Away from leeward hard! Oi, wing to wing!, secure the lines, watch the jib, slack up, I need buckets on deck, bring all the damned buckets!" His barking immediately overshadowed that of the captain of the Guard's.
As the man recovered and began to issue orders to his men, the captain laid his hand on his shoulder "Hold, have your men get lines and run the buckets to fill with sea water and soak the decks, secure anything loose, and soak themselves as well."

The captain spun and bellowed back to his crew once more "A barrel mid deck, all men start filling it with chamber lye, as you can."

"Get your bowmen at the ready and soak them down as well."

"What are you blathering about soaking things down about!"

The captain spun away from his directions and fixed his eyes now into the eyes of the Soldier, and this time he did not lower his voice.
"I respect you ser, and I know you may in most circumstance know with unfailing truth far more of battle than I, even with my advanced years. However, in what is coming, you know pitifully little. Those sails..." his figure pointing to the large wing shaped sails bearing the nine pointed star of the People, " are not the sails of reavers, or pirates, or anything you as a young man have seen of the Sea People. Those are Junknarr. See how they sit tall in the water, they are a far off. They are large, and meant for war, not your war. The war the way the 'People' fight it" He said using the 'People' with emphasis of a man experienced with them "You want to know why we need to soak everything? Because Junknarr do not fight to take treasure, they fight to demonstrate dominance. Those men on those ships don't care about wealth, or their tradition of stealing, or raiding, they are the Priests of the true nature of these people! Look about you boy, we are in their church! Fire! They will first attempt to set us a blaze. If you want to survive this, then do as I say, I seen them fight. When the time comes for you to bare steel you will hear no word from me about how your sword swings...but for all our sakes help me stop it from coming to that."

"Fill the buckets! soak the deck, ready fire barrels and buckets to control any blazes that may catch, and for the love of the Seven stay out of the crew's way!"

"Bowmen, make ready, and be certain we ready to return with a little fire of our own."

The Captain of the Guard looked and the captain who was now studying the wind, and the horizon, his eyes fixed not on the ships of the enemy but in the empty spaces. He bagan to speak and the captain held a hand to stay him. "Listen, not to the sound of the crew, but in the distance, like a moose or a drum under water. Its them." And just as he said he could hear the deep sonorous tones undulating.
The captain stood still and listened, his hand still held up to hold the Guardsman silent at his side.
"3
4
...
...
...
Nine!"
"Nine what?!"
"Nine ships, the call was one there were eight answers."

"Captain, can you get us through Nine of these ships?"

The old captain smiled, "Young man, I may not pray to their gods. But this is my church as well. To use the parlance of my adversary, I swear I will give them a reason to sing."

It was at this moment that the Soldier noted to direction the ship was coming to, and it seemed to be a bearing dead at the Murchadaen ships first spotted.

"Straight at them?"

"Yes, the wind will be with us, they will close to try to catch us fire. This will be a dance, and you will see their ships do things you have never seen another ship do, to a man not familiar with them, we would be lost. But I know what they will do, I can use it against them, get us some time. I'm sorry, but men are going to be hurt, they are going to die, but to escape I need to lure them in so they think we are primed to be boarded. If I can take their speed without losing ours. We have a chance."

The guardsman nodded.

"Also, why a barrel of chamber lye?"

"It will wash off some of the poisons they may use." The captain said matter of fact.

"Poisons!"

"Yes, they blind, burn the flesh, stupefy men, even put them to thrall that they might attack each other. Chamber lye can neutralize some, for others, a sword provides a quick death. I told you, these are not the Reavers you have encountered. If you didn't believe in devils before, you will before this is done."

The guardsman to see the large bat wing like sail in the distance, and off to the left he would see another just appearing on the horizon. Just as the captain had said, more of them coming. No doubt the total would be nine, the man knew what he spoke or appeared to. This was his world.
If any of those men made it aboard, they would be entering his world, and sea-devils or sorcerers, priests of the ocean, or any other nemesis of the imagination... they bled, so they died, and today he would proof that for certain.

................
The captain of Mournbringer looked at Voprak and smiled,
"They bear down on us. A cunning mainlander, he knows he cant run."
"Of course he knows" Voprak said cooly "Do you think for a moment a King's ship would be crewed by fools, or led by one?"
"Make certain you show them the respect they deserve, or they will catch us unaware, the mainlanders can be as cunning as we, even on the sea." A statement such as was publically uncharacteristic, but Voprak was quietly well known for his humility and respect for the minds of the mainlanders and its said this way of thinking he had utilized to great effect.
"Of course, I would never treat an enemy as anything but my equal."
Voprak looked at the captain for a moment, regarded him up and down.
"Pray the opposing captain doesn't think you his better."

The ship Obeja, was readying the boarders with tonics for endurance and strength. When done, she began singing a strange old song in the Old Tongue, and beating on drum, the drum clearly older than her, was said to be made from the flesh of the Obeja she replaced. A drum to call his aid, to call on the aid of the dead.
The rythmn gave the crew a steady beat with which to work, and men of Voprak's guard stood on the edge of the deck. Spears keeping the beat as they butted against the deck.
Voprak joined the Obeja in the singing, and with his back of his own Rak, he tapped out a syncopated accompanying rythmn.

The soldiers feet shuffled in place and as Voprak and the ship Obeja began a dance in counter-clockwise circles, a calm shuffling all meant to maintain a rythymn.

This was how it would be, the calm building before the storm.

Greater Dienstad of Thrones(GDoT) - The Winds of Change

Greater Dienstad of Thrones(GDoT) - The Winds of Change

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