Game of Thrones: A Feast for Crows [IC/Concluded]

[Danceria]

Ser Derren Rosethorn of Duskendale, Hedge Knight and Heir of House Darkwood
The Gates of Castle Blacken

---

After restocking his supplies a few days ago at White Harbor, the knight felt that the Seven were once again smiling on his journey. So far, from what he could piece together from the smallfolk, the Boltons were content to fortify their position in Winterfell and the west, and bickering with the Ironborn over whose lands they get to pillage. The bastards were losing steam as Aenys Frey is said to have broken his neck on a ride back to Winterfell. Another more implausible story, but nevertheless entertaining from a sick point of view, was that a great white rat took the Frey's youngest sons and baked them into a pie and served it at Ramsay Bolton's wedding feast.

Promise-breakers beget promise-breakers the night thought somberly with a smile.

It had been several hours from White Harbor before a guard had asked what a lone rider was doing this far in the dark of night.

"I am a snowbank knight." the man replied curtly.

"A snowbank knight?" the sentry echoed in confusion "What in the hells is a "snowbank knight"?"

"A hedge knight, good sentry, but there aren't many hedges up in th' North 'round this time, eh?" Despite the late hour, the cold, and the fact that he was stopped in front a worn portcullis and so close to rest, the hedge knight seemed as merry as ever. "An' if th' both of us stay out 'ere much longer, th' minstrels will sing the song of the Frostbitten Knight and the Snowman Sentry! Tell whoever it is ye need to tell that I mean no harm, I seek only shelter for th' knight."

The sentry nodded and motioned for another guard to go somewhere. "Very well, you shall sleep in the stables. No doubt you are familiar with that sort of lodging, "Snowbank Knight"." the sentry taunted as the gate began to rise.

" 'Twould be one o' the cheapest stays I have thus far." the knight countered, with a casual shrug. " Gods bless the man opening these gates...an' may they keep us warm this night!"

With that, the man entered the keep, finding a lonely stable and a tavern in which he made his lodging, wondering what new adventures would entail, and chuckling slightly.

"Snowbank Knight". the vagabond pondered to himself That'll be a name I ought ta' remember for another time.

[The Independent Hazerls]

Aegon had decided to leave the majority of the Golden Company on the border of the Reach and Crownlands in support of his new allies. Taking only a personal guard of two hundred men he along with the queen of thrones made their way to Highgarden. The ride to Highgarden was a rough one as the purpose was to make haste and meet with Mace Tyell to secure the newly formed alliance and discuses the war plans.

Along the way Aegon was notified about the death of Ser Loras Tyrell, the display of loyalty from one of the members of House Tyrell helped to cement the alliance but also ignited a fire of vengeance within the young king himself. Aegon thought to himself about the murder of his own family at the hands of the Lannisters. in that moment Aegon took it upon himself to visit Oleena in her carriage, there in his gold armor with the sigil of house Targaryen upon the breast plate, Aegon took a knee in front of the aging woman. "I know that in your moment of grieve my words offer very little in terms of what you have lost, I know you are your grandson was close. I cannot bring Ser Loras back but I can promise you that you will have your vengeance for his murder. I promise that all the crimes that have been committed will be answered for."

Aegon took her by the hand and held and comforter the best way that the young king could. After a week of hard riding Aegon along its the queen of thrones had finally made it to Highgarden, along the road leading up to the grand castle itself was Tyrell and Targaryen banners sewed together. A large crowd had gathered to gas upon the lost Targaryen king who was long though dead, the chants grew louder and louder, "all hail his grace, King Aegon!"

Once through the gate there standing in the courtyard was Mace Tyrell along with his daughter. Aegon dismounted his stallion walking over to Mace. But instead of a handshake Aegon took Mace in a hug and said "your lose will be avenged my friend, I promise"

Lady Olenna Tyrell, Wife of the Late Lord Luthor
On the road to Highgarden, The Reach

Olenna was pleased with this Aegon, and he seemed fit to be king. Speaking to him gave her confidence that this war could be won, and all for a good cause.
Still, on the way to Highgarden, words reached the group that her grandchild Loras had been murdered at court by the Lannisters. It all seemed to take the strength out of her once again, and she feared it might even kill her.
Still, as they travelled, Aegon himself came to her, reassuring the elderly woman as if they were kin or friends of a lifetime. And his last words, she believed: "I promise that all the crimes that have been committed will be answered for."
And now, day and night, she prayed to the Seven-Faced God that she would live long enough to see the faces of dismay on Cersei and Jaime Lannister when King's Landing fell to the Dragon, the Rose and the Viper.

Lord Mace Tyrell, Lord of Highgarden, High Marshal of the Reach and Warden of the South
Highgarden, The Reach

Lord Mace had slept and relaxed ever since he had come back from King's Landing. It was good to be home, and the local people were happy to see him back safely, but he needed time to mourn his dear departed Loras.
On a wonderful morning, while Mace was praying in Highgarden's sept, his steward came in: "His Grace Aegon Targaryen and Lady Olenna are approaching the city, my lord."
Finishing his prayer, the Tyrell man called his family members and closet advisers and went to stand at the Gates. There, a herald sang out the arrival of the Dragon King, who greeted Mace very warmly, with a hug and kind words.
They then proceeded to find lodgings for all, and finally Lord Mace, Ser Willas, the castellan, Lady Olenna and Aegon went to the Council Room, to plan the war ahead.
"My lords and friends, and Your Grace," started the Lord of Highgarden, "it is good to have you all here, but what we must talk about is grievous indeed. Furthermore, representatives of House Martell will reach us soon enough. A struggle is ahead, but I am confident the rightful ruler will prevail." He then looked Aegon in the eye. "My plan would be to strike north into the land of the Rock soon, so as to catch them unaware, and into the Stormlands too. That way we can start closing in on King's Landing."
"That is fine, father." Ser Willas spoke up. "But I also believe the Ironborn should be won to our cause. It is true, we have been fighting them, but with promises of land we can make peace, and they can harass enemy land on the west coast for the whole length of the war."
They all then turned to the King himself, waiting for the words which would truly decide the course of action...

[Republic of South Vantaria]

Ellaria Sand

On the road to Highgarden, The Reach

Ellaria Sand and her men rode hard for long days, wanting to be there when His Grace Aegon spoke to his vassal Lord Mace of Highgarden.
From what the small folk told her, they were no more than two days behind the Young Griff. She was confident her voice would be heard alongside that of the other bannermen of the King. When her maniple had left Sunspear, Doran was still convinced war was evitable. He was wrong: Loras the Kingsguard dead trying to kill Tommen, the Tyrell second son assembling the bannermen of the Reach, Aegon's war council in Highgarden...
It all meant a fight was close. Fortunately, reflected Ellaria as she sat in her adorned chariot. The Targaryen alliance could smash all the other Westerosi armies, and the Dornishmen bastard longed for the moment she'd plunge a blade through a Lannister heart.

[The Forsworn Knights]

---

Lord-Paramount Kevan Lannister of the Westerlands. Knight of the Westerlands, Lord of Casterly Rock, newly-instated Hand of the King, Lord-Regent of the Iron Throne, and great-uncle of the King. Son of Lord-Paramount Tytos Lannister.

---

Everything was going horribly under Cersei's direction since Tyrion had murdered Tywin. First the Master of Whisperers left without a trace, then House Tyrell completely and utterly disregarded the effects of abandoning a marriage alliance without due provocation and went to join that pale Essosi brat who had invaded the Stormlands despite the fact that this would surely infuriate all other Houses with whom they had such alliances, and they were crying foul over the killing of that dishonorable swine who attempted to kill an innocent eight year old. Kevan knew that he had to turn this around, spin the blame towards the Tyrells. People needed someone to blame,and Kevan knew that his plan would bring the people of King's Landing back into fully supporting their King.
Kevan would walk out the gates and onto a platform looking over a large crowd of the people of King's Landing. On the platform with him were four of the five remaining Kingsguard, with Kevan having elected to leave the monstrosity that was Ser Robert Strong hidden for the moment.
As Kevan stepped onto the stage the Goldcloaks lining the walls of the square tightened formation, calling for the crowd to quiet. Kevan would survey the crowd before speaking.
"People of King's Landing, it has been four days since Lord-Paramount Mace Tyrell, Queen Margaery Tyrell, and Ser Loras Tyrell of the Kingsguard all attempted to flee this city, that they may break the bond between a Hand and his King, a Wife and her Husband, and a Guardian sworn by the Faith to protect the King. On that day not only did Hand Mace Tyrell betrayed the man who would raise his position, Queen Margaery make the conscious decision to abandon her Husband and Union by Marriage in order to chase after an Essosi whoreson, and not only did Ser Loras break his basic vows as a Knight and a Kingsguard to uphold honor and protect the innocent when he tried to murder King Tommen Baratheon only to be stopped in the vile act by his Brothers in arms, his friends. But they then went on to throw their lot in with some Essosi Whoreson who claims to be the son of a Raper Prince and Grandson of a Murderous King. A man who claims to be the product of hundreds of years of the vile Targaryen acts of Incest and Polygamy- a family that proudly claims to have even gone so far as to bed dragons, have children with wild fire-breathing beasts!"
Kevan would yell to the crowd, adjusting his Armor as the Crowd cheered him on.
"In fact, what ever happened to the last empire that the Valyrian people held sovereignty over? The Valyrian freehold was it? Oh yes, now I remember. Their homeland has become a burnt wasteland and the fractured vassal-states are slaveholding infidels. Is this really who you want sitting on the Iron Throne?" The crowd would jeer at the thought of Aegon becoming the ruler of the city as Kevan gestured a guard standing by the entrance from which he came from. The Goldcloak would then vanish into the doorway as Kevan turned back to the cowd to continue. "You have all no-doubt heard the Tyrell propaganda about how our Honorable Kingsguard murdered Ser Loras, however I ask you this. Where is Ser Blount, a food-taster who bore the Knight of Flowers no threat? Where are the good twelve men of the goldcloaks he brutally and senselessly murdered without cause- men who were your Fathers, Brothers, and sons? And to what end have the Tyrells committed these atrocities against their allies and the people of King's Landing? To put on the throne some Essosi wretch who knows not the custom of this land, but those of the people across the Narrow Sea?
Now look, look upon what they have done to our King- a sweet, innocent eight-year old boy who has never harmed anyone in his life and only seeks to serve his realm well!" Kevan would roar as Tommen was brought onto the platform. The entire left side of his face was covered in white bandages.
"The Grand-Maester could barely save his life! From what the Tyrells did to him!" Kevan would exaggerate as tommen peeled off his bandages to reveal a long scar from his forehead to the bottom of his cheek that had only just begun healing, with an empty hole in his eye socket. "So I ask you, will you spread the word of some Tyrell Swine being stopped from taking an innocent life, or will you tell the true story of their betrayal?"
The crowd would begin to roar, some beginning to chant the words of House Baratheon.
"Ours is the fury! Ours is the fury!"

[Warg the Immortal]

Ser Wilhain Storm, Mercenary Captain of the Shield Scorchers Blue Maniple,
Bastard of House Gower

---

Eight Days Previous, Tyrosh

They were close, it had been a gruelling three-and-a-half weeks of sea travel, rarely stopping for provisions, but finally they were close. From Tyrosh it would be another two days of sailing to King's Landing, with the End-of-Summer Market about to begin they would be pretending to be a small mercenary company from Tyrosh, hoping to get rich off the paranoia of merchants.

...

Wilhain disembarked from one of the two ships they had been using for travel, former slave galleys. Tight quarters, but since most of the men were former slaves who were used to such travel, and they saved gold on the suboptimal mode of travel the benefits outweighed the cost of having to sleep next to twenty other people. He glanced to the crew of the other galley which had docked only moments behind them, noticing that, once again, the colossus, Basaran was first to disembark. Behind him came his men, and finally the crew they hired to charter them to King's Landing. Wilhain had first noticed it when they docked in Elyria, but it became much more apparent as they travelled, the crew with which Basaran travelled began looking more and more frightful, jumpy and wild-eyed, Wilhain suddenly felt a shiver run down his spine, and glanced over towards the other galley, right into the pale eyes of the Handless man himself. Fuck! That mute bastard gives me the creeps, sure as shit glad that he's on our side. With that Wilhain made his way to help gather supplies before their final voyage to Westeros...

Six Days Previous, King's Landing

Finally they had arrived in Westeros, Wilhain breathed in deeply savouring the familiar air. Finally, after five years, it's good to be home, though he would have preferred landing in the Stormlands, but understandably with the Baratheon pretender that wouldn't be prudent. They had, had some trouble getting into port, the local guards were no doubt wary of allowing 240 mercenaries enter the city, but it soon became evident they had more important issues at hand, apparently someone had made an attempt on the King's life, a member of the Tyrell's, if rumours could be believed. Wilhain couldn't help but chuckle, with the confusion in the city the watch didn't even bat an eye when they told them they were mercenaries looking to benefit from paranoid merchants at the End-of-Summer Markets. The damn fools didn't even do a deeper search of their weapons chests, where they would have found some rather interesting red banners adorned with a three headed black dragon hidden under a false bottom. Now that the Maniples of Daegon had arrived in Westeros, they need only find some foolish merchant on their way out of King's Landing to hire them, so as not arouse suspicion.

12 Hours Previous, Halfway between Cider Hall and Highgarden, along the River Mander

Wilhain was exhausted, the men had been making triple-time without food or rest since Bitterbridge, stopping only for water. As Wilhain washed his face in the river he thought back to their road out of King's Landing.

They had found some old merchant on his way Old Oak, he couldn't afford their pay, but they managed to convince him they would work for free in exchange for him spreading word of their false company in Westeros. Wilhain had given him some foolish fake name, and the entire company was on their way before night had fallen, the guards had been skeptical that an old man needed so many guards, but Wilhain had learned a trick or to in bribery from Solf before their departure from Essos. The guards allowed them through, pockets full of eastern gold, and smiles on their foolish faces. Based on rumours around the city, Wilhain knew that the Tyrells were now allying with Aegon VI, and decided that Highgarden would be the best place to start their search for the young Targaryen.

Once they reached Bitterbridge, they fled the town, and the old merchant, in the night. Wilhain had taken it upon himself to leave the man a few gold coins to hire one or two actual guards, he had felt bad for the man, knowing himself how hard being a peasant could be in times of national strife.

Wilhain lifted himself from the waters edge and turned to see the giant man, Basaran staring into the trees eerily. Damn, I don't think I've seen this guy drink or eat this entire trip, how the fuck would he even do it with his mouth sewn up like a childs doll? Wilhain shook away the unpleasant thoughts to address the men.

"I know you are all tired, but remember this is a mission for your Lord, Daegon Blackfyre, and you will all be rewarded for your service in aiding the return of his lands to him. We have been marching for days, and now that we are safely deep enough within the Reach, and close to Highgarden, controlled by the Tyrells we shall slacken off to a more healthy pace, only now we shall raise the banners of our Lord's noble house, Blackfyre. Onward men!" Wilhain scanned the men, understandably few of them gave response to his speech, but he could see that they at least seemed slightly more invigorated at the thought of being able to rest soon. Before Wilhain could don his tabard, he felt a massive hand on his shoulder, he turned to see his handless fellow captain, who gave him a short nod before stalking off to join the rest of the men marching. What in the Name of the Seven was that? I can never tell if he means to kill me or if he sees me as a friend.

Current Time, Gates of Highgarden

Wilhain and Basaran strode ahead of their maniples, flanked respectively by their squires. Wilhain had on his personal armour, decorated with carvings of trefoils in honour of his father's house, the Gowers of the Stormlands, his tabard was quartered, two showing his Lord's sigil, and the other two showing the inverted colours of House Gower, to denote his bastard status. To his left Basaran wore mismatched armour, composed of various pieces from their travel to Westeros. Wilhain called for a full halt just outside arrow range, and began to make his way to the gate guards accompanied by Basaran and their squires.

The Tyrell guards looked wary of the two men, understandable, as one appeared a monster, the other a knight with a decidedly strange heraldry on his armour.

"Halt, this is the seat of House Tyrell, state your business Ser." Wilhain smiled as cordially as he can, glancing to his left he saw that Basaran had his normal featureless expression. "I, am Ser Wilhain Storm, bastard of House Gower and a knight in the service of Lord-in-Exile Daegon Blackfyre. I have heard word that his grace, Aegon Targaryen, Sixth of that Name, happens to be located here. I come bearing a letter from my Lord, for the eyes of Aegon only. Now if he can be found here I ask that you please allow us entry, if not, we shall be on our way."

[The Independent Hazerls]

(Image)
Ser Wilhain Storm, Mercenary Captain of the Shield Scorchers Blue Maniple,
Bastard of House Gower

---

Eight Days Previous, Tyrosh

They were close, it had been a gruelling three-and-a-half weeks of sea travel, rarely stopping for provisions, but finally they were close. From Tyrosh it would be another two days of sailing to King's Landing, with the End-of-Summer Market about to begin they would be pretending to be a small mercenary company from Tyrosh, hoping to get rich off the paranoia of merchants.

...

Wilhain disembarked from one of the two ships they had been using for travel, former slave galleys. Tight quarters, but since most of the men were former slaves who were used to such travel, and they saved gold on the suboptimal mode of travel the benefits outweighed the cost of having to sleep next to twenty other people. He glanced to the crew of the other galley which had docked only moments behind them, noticing that, once again, the colossus, Basaran was first to disembark. Behind him came his men, and finally the crew they hired to charter them to King's Landing. Wilhain had first noticed it when they docked in Elyria, but it became much more apparent as they travelled, the crew with which Basaran travelled began looking more and more frightful, jumpy and wild-eyed, Wilhain suddenly felt a shiver run down his spine, and glanced over towards the other galley, right into the pale eyes of the Handless man himself. Fuck! That mute bastard gives me the creeps, sure as shit glad that he's on our side. With that Wilhain made his way to help gather supplies before their final voyage to Westeros...

Six Days Previous, King's Landing

Finally they had arrived in Westeros, Wilhain breathed in deeply savouring the familiar air. Finally, after five years, it's good to be home, though he would have preferred landing in the Stormlands, but understandably with the Baratheon pretender that wouldn't be prudent. They had, had some trouble getting into port, the local guards were no doubt wary of allowing 240 mercenaries enter the city, but it soon became evident they had more important issues at hand, apparently someone had made an attempt on the King's life, a member of the Tyrell's, if rumours could be believed. Wilhain couldn't help but chuckle, with the confusion in the city the watch didn't even bat an eye when they told them they were mercenaries looking to benefit from paranoid merchants at the End-of-Summer Markets. The damn fools didn't even do a deeper search of their weapons chests, where they would have found some rather interesting red banners adorned with a three headed black dragon hidden under a false bottom. Now that the Maniples of Daegon had arrived in Westeros, they need only find some foolish merchant on their way out of King's Landing to hire them, so as not arouse suspicion.

12 Hours Previous, Halfway between Cider Hall and Highgarden, along the River Mander

Wilhain was exhausted, the men had been making triple-time without food or rest since Bitterbridge, stopping only for water. As Wilhain washed his face in the river he thought back to their road out of King's Landing.

They had found some old merchant on his way Old Oak, he couldn't afford their pay, but they managed to convince him they would work for free in exchange for him spreading word of their false company in Westeros. Wilhain had given him some foolish fake name, and the entire company was on their way before night had fallen, the guards had been skeptical that an old man needed so many guards, but Wilhain had learned a trick or to in bribery from Solf before their departure from Essos. The guards allowed them through, pockets full of eastern gold, and smiles on their foolish faces. Based on rumours around the city, Wilhain knew that the Tyrells were now allying with Aegon VI, and decided that Highgarden would be the best place to start their search for the young Targaryen.

Once they reached Bitterbridge, they fled the town, and the old merchant, in the night. Wilhain had taken it upon himself to leave the man a few gold coins to hire one or two actual guards, he had felt bad for the man, knowing himself how hard being a peasant could be in times of national strife.

Wilhain lifted himself from the waters edge and turned to see the giant man, Basaran staring into the trees eerily. Damn, I don't think I've seen this guy drink or eat this entire trip, how the fuck would he even do it with his mouth sewn up like a childs doll? Wilhain shook away the unpleasant thoughts to address the men.

"I know you are all tired, but remember this is a mission for your Lord, Daegon Blackfyre, and you will all be rewarded for your service in aiding the return of his lands to him. We have been marching for days, and now that we are safely deep enough within the Reach, and close to Highgarden, controlled by the Tyrells we shall slacken off to a more healthy pace, only now we shall raise the banners of our Lord's noble house, Blackfyre. Onward men!" Wilhain scanned the men, understandably few of them gave response to his speech, but he could see that they at least seemed slightly more invigorated at the thought of being able to rest soon. Before Wilhain could don his tabard, he felt a massive hand on his shoulder, he turned to see his handless fellow captain, who gave him a short nod before stalking off to join the rest of the men marching. What in the Name of the Seven was that? I can never tell if he means to kill me or if he sees me as a friend.

Current Time, Gates of Highgarden

Wilhain and Basaran strode ahead of their maniples, flanked respectively by their squires. Wilhain had on his personal armour, decorated with carvings of trefoils in honour of his father's house, the Gowers of the Stormlands, his tabard was quartered, two showing his Lord's sigil, and the other two showing the inverted colours of House Gower, to denote his bastard status. To his left Basaran wore mismatched armour, composed of various pieces from their travel to Westeros. Wilhain called for a full halt just outside arrow range, and began to make his way to the gate guards accompanied by Basaran and their squires.

The Tyrell guards looked wary of the two men, understandable, as one appeared a monster, the other a knight with a decidedly strange heraldry on his armour.

"Halt, this is the seat of House Tyrell, state your business Ser." Wilhain smiled as cordially as he can, glancing to his left he saw that Basaran had his normal featureless expression. "I, am Ser Wilhain Storm, bastard of House Gower and a knight in the service of Lord-in-Exile Daegon Blackfyre. I have heard word that his grace, Aegon Targaryen, Sixth of that Name, happens to be located here. I come bearing a letter from my Lord, for the eyes of Aegon only. Now if he can be found here I ask that you please allow us entry, if not, we shall be on our way."

Lady Margaery Tyrell, Former Queen of King Tommen I Baratheon
Highgarden, The Reach

The guards had just finished speaking to the Blackfyres when Margaery arrived. All her family members were in the Council with Aegon, and she was the only Tyrell still "free."
"Olyvar, Mychal, let him in. Only him," she said pointing at the Stormlands' bastard. "The others can wait here. I don't believe his friend will be too useful in addressing the King."
The guardsmen let the leader of the Blackfyres in, and Margaery smiled at him and led him off to the Council Room.
"His Grace Aegon Targaryen is inside, as are Lord Mace Tyrell and Ser Willas. Apparently, representatives of Dorne will reach us soon enough."
She left, reflecting on the man. He was beautiful in his own special way: rough, wild, and magic. She wanted him in her more that that white-haired Aegon, but she knew her duty was to marry the Targaryen king.
All she hoped was for the bastard, called Ser Wilhain, to come visit her sometimes at court...

[Republic of South Vantaria]

Ellaria Sand

Highgarden, The Reach

After another week of riding, Ellaria Sand and her riders reached the seat of House Tyrell. Just outside the looming gates, the Dornish woman spotted a good two-hundred men with a Targaryen-like banner flying above them.
"That's Blackfyres, Sand." Said one of her men, called Jennor. He boasted he could tell apart all the banners of Westeros.
Blackfyres?! They've been dead for years... Ellaria reflected sullenly as she rode closer with just twenty men, now. Two guards shouted a challenge, and Ellaria replies readily:
"I am Ellaria Sand, sister-in-law of Prince Doran Nymeros Martell. I come to meet this Aegon Targaryen and his lords bannermen, so that Dorne too can pledge it's army to the just cause." Or any cause which gives me the change to kill the "Lions" of Casterly Rock thought the bastard slyly.
"Grant us enter, and we shall cause no harm. We will speak to these Lords, and leave."

[Nasaira]

HIGHGARDEN, THE REACH

Aegon sat at the table listening to the conversation with the upmost attention to each little detail that each man let fly out of his mouth. This meeting was going to determine the future of the seven kingdoms and the manner in which Aegon would rule and be remembered. Each man had his own idea on how the war should progress but at least everyone felt that it should come to war, to that small degree Aegon was content that they all could at least agree on that aspect. The conversation drug on with each man at the table taking his turn and saying what was on his mind when Mace Tyrell finished with his thoughts and then presented Aegon his opportunity to make his first decision as a king.

Should Aegon engaged with talks with the Ironborn and try to presuade them to reave the westerlands and lay seige to Casterlyrock itself. The decision was a difficult one, the Ironborn could never be trusted. How many times in the past have they rebelled against the throne and reaved the smallfolk. Aegon took a sip from the cup of wine he was holding. "Lord Tyrell my regards to Lord Redwyn, I have never arbor gold before." After sitting the wine cup back down on the table Aegon addressed the lords in the room.

"All of you feel that we should send promises to the ironborn, grant them land in exchange for their services to our cause." Aegon cleared his throat and in a calm voice continued to address the lords in the room. "Would you set the clan tribes free in your land?" The mere question confused everyone in the room. "Let me answer that for you, I don't believe you would. And the reason why is for the pillage and destruction they would bring. Do you think the ironborn would be any better?" Aegon's voice began to rise. "I am the protector of the realm, I am meant to protect not unless destruction. It wouldn't be the Lannisters that suffered but the smallfolk!"

"The ironborn have been defeated, Lord Willias saw to that, we owe the ironborn nothing! I am their king! Send ravens to this Euron Greyjoy and inform him that he has paid the iron price and now I want him to come before me and swear his loyalty. If he does no tell him that he will be rewarded……. Rewarded with FIRE and BLOOD!!"

in a single stroke of his hand the meeting was over, Aegon departed the council chambers in his armor passes the lady Margery in the hall just outside of the council chamber.

[Warg the Immortal]

Handless Basaran, Mercenary Captain of the Shield Scorchers Purple Maniple,
Monster of Mantarys

---

The colossus grunted when the pretty young woman sent him, his squire, and Wilhain's squire back to where their maniples had begun to make camp. As he stalked back with long loping steps he noticed a group of riders approaching, bearing an orange banner with a red sun pierced by a golden spear. He scoffed through the thick wire that bound his mouth, before making his way into his tent, wherein his squire, a former slave who went by the name 'Sallow Toad', began removing his armour, leaving him in his only other pair of clothing, a shredded pair of purple cloth trousers from his time as a pit fighter. Deciding it might be time to rest after five days of marching, Handless Basaran retired onto the cot that could barely hold his torso, falling asleep while regarding the stump that terminated his left arm.

---

Ser Wilhain Storm, Mercenary Captain of the Shield Scorchers Blue Maniple,
Bastard of House Gower

---

Wilhain had only been to Highgarden once prior in his life, when he was a child his mother's father, a blacksmith, had taken him during a tourney, so as to offer repairs to knights that required it. However Wilhain had spent most of his time slacking off, as was to be expected from a seven year old boy. He had been transfixed by the beautiful grounds and the wonderful colours on the sigils belonging to various knights and houses from across Westeros. It was every bit as beautiful as he remembered it. As he was welcomed inside by an extremely pretty young woman he couldn't help but blush slightly, in the ways of war he was gifted, but when it came to women he was like fish out of water. "Th-thank you my lady. I am on very important business from my Lord, Daegon Blackfyre. I have a message for the King which I have been tasked with delivering to him personally." As the young woman lead him down a hall towards what must have been the council chamber, the lavish doors before them opened and outstepped a silver haired youth, with purple eyes, clad in armour. Purple eyes?! The very trait my Lord shares and which he told me to be on guard for, this must be him, Aegon Targeryen!

[The Independent Hazerls]

HIGHGARDEN, THE REACH

Aegon sat at the table listening to the conversation with the upmost attention to each little detail that each man let fly out of his mouth. This meeting was going to determine the future of the seven kingdoms and the manner in which Aegon would rule and be remembered. Each man had his own idea on how the war should progress but at least everyone felt that it should come to war, to that small degree Aegon was content that they all could at least agree on that aspect. The conversation drug on with each man at the table taking his turn and saying what was on his mind when Mace Tyrell finished with his thoughts and then presented Aegon his opportunity to make his first decision as a king.

Should Aegon engaged with talks with the Ironborn and try to presuade them to reave the westerlands and lay seige to Casterlyrock itself. The decision was a difficult one, the Ironborn could never be trusted. How many times in the past have they rebelled against the throne and reaved the smallfolk. Aegon took a sip from the cup of wine he was holding. "Lord Tyrell my regards to Lord Redwyn, I have never arbor gold before." After sitting the wine cup back down on the table Aegon addressed the lords in the room.

"All of you feel that we should send promises to the ironborn, grant them land in exchange for their services to our cause." Aegon cleared his throat and in a calm voice continued to address the lords in the room. "Would you set the clan tribes free in your land?" The mere question confused everyone in the room. "Let me answer that for you, I don't believe you would. And the reason why is for the pillage and destruction they would bring. Do you think the ironborn would be any better?" Aegon's voice began to rise. "I am the protector of the realm, I am meant to protect not unless destruction. It wouldn't be the Lannisters that suffered but the smallfolk!"

"The ironborn have been defeated, Lord Willias saw to that, we owe the ironborn nothing! I am their king! Send ravens to this Euron Greyjoy and inform him that he has paid the iron price and now I want him to come before me and swear his loyalty. If he does no tell him that he will be rewarded……. Rewarded with FIRE and BLOOD!!"

in a single stroke of his hand the meeting was over, Aegon departed the council chambers in his armor passes the lady Margery in the hall just outside of the council chamber.

Lord Mace Tyrell, Lord of Highgarden, High Marshal of the Realm and Warden of the South
The Council Room, Highgarden, The Reach

Lord Mace spotted his King laying his eyes on Margaery at the end of the meeting. He believed this would be a perfect moment for the two to meet.
"Your Grace, I am pleased to present to you Lady Margaery, my own sweet daughter.
Lady Margaery, meet His Grace Aegon VI Targaryen, our rightful ruler."
The two started into each other's eyes and exchanged some pleasant words and jests. They will make for a wonderful couple, thought Lord Mace as he saw his daughter leave.
"Your Grace, men representing Lord Blackfyre and Daenerys Targaryen are here, and they would speak to you."
Then Mace himself left, still having to catch up on all the sleep he had left on the journey from King's Landing.

Ser Willas Tyrell, Heir to Highgarden
Highgarden, The Reach

Damn that Targaryen! We may lose the war just because he doesn't want to give lands to the Ironborn... Ser Willas reflected as he walked away from the Room of Council.
Maester Gormon had been sent to prepare the raven for Pyke, and no doubt "Crow-Eye" wouldn't like the words in it.
As he limped, the heir of House Tyrell spotted men with the banners of the Martells standing outside the gate. He thought they were the representatives of Prince Doran, sent to meet Lord Mace and the King.
"Guards, let those twenty men in, and show them the way to the King." He ordered the armor-clad men standing near the portcullis. He then went off, searching for his wife. When he found her, she was lying there, half-naked and beautiful.
She was the daughter of Lord Appleton, and a rebellious beauty. She dressed to look appealing for men, not to look regal, and her and Ser Willas passed wondrous nights together.
"Dear wife, the day's stressful. Might you know of a way to... alleviate my pains?" He asked with a cunning grin.
She simply giggled, and clasped his neck, pulling him down to the bed. "My lord," she purred as Willas entered her, "we will have a heir in no time."

[Danceria]

Ser Derren Rosethorn of Duskendale, Hedge Knight and Heir of House Darkwood
The Gates of Highgarden, the Reach

---

Damn th' North, all those up there, damn them to th' Seventh Hell! the knight thought bitterly as he made his eight day trek back south. It was too cold, to confusing, and too damn aggravating of a quest for him to continue. He swore once in a while some bastards managed to turn his tent around so he faced south, instead of north. Locals said it was the Children of the Forest, the Hedge Knight thought it was the Gods telling him there were richer pickings in familiar territory, that and the so called "Prince that was promised" had an affinity for burning people like the Boltons did with flaying them. Besides, Stannis wouldn't make a good liege, he murdered 'is own brother... he reasoned to himself. Too dour.

He was once again back in the familar south, among many highways and byways, and life got more interesting; the Lannisters found themselves a new rival in the form of the Tyrells, and if rumors are to be believed, the Martells were supporting the long thought-dead Aegon was back in town. Either way, it looked like a party in Highgarden, and they were always a fan of the tourneys, and he needed to get his blood pumping and flick off the ice still lingering from the North. He hailed a guardian, who was ornately dressed and obviously busy with a party. The servant wrinkled their nose at the smell of a Hedge Knight who hasn't bathed in a few days.

"Hello!" he greeted merrily, and removed his helm, allowing his messy red hair, leafy green eyes and fashionable stubble to be revealed. "I heard there was a party goin' on 'ere. Will there be room for a poor Hedge Knight like meself? I'll help wi' the preparations if ye need..."

[Eraus]

Axel Blacken, Lord in Exile
Highgarden, The Reach

Axel had heard of Aegon's Arrival and he hoped that by possibly joining him he could gain from it. Axel had on his Northern Armor and as he began to walk towards the keep he could see the Sentry's looking at him suspiciously. It seemed that one finally decided to say something as Axel got close.

"Halt and Tell me of your business" The Sentry said.

"I'm Lord Axel Blacken, I'm here to pledge myself and my house to the rightful king Aegon." He said with his Northern charm."If you'd be so kind as to call another guard to escort me in that would be wonderful." He said with a smile."Ain't the south such a beautiful place. With your landscape and the fine armor and weapons the brave men like you have. The best thing I carry is this" Axel said as he pointed to his Sword which had a Wolf's head on the Hilt."It's a fancy thing ain't it....Made out of the best metals in Essos" He said.

The guards didn't give a reply. "I'll be around the corner. Also tell him I have men whom can join his army." Axel said as he went around the corner and sat waiting hopefully so the guards would let him in.

[The Independent Hazerls]

Lord Mace Tyrell, Lord of Highgarden, High Marshal of the Reach and Warden of the South

Lord Mace was yet again standing at Highgarden's gates, with yet again more guests coming to see the King.
This time both hosts were of Northeners, one representing House Blacken and the other a simple Hedge Knight. "My friends, you are granted entrance to Highgarden, and I myself will show you the way to His Grace Aegon Targaryen. But I beg you, please leave your weapons at the gates; many people of different Houses are here today, and I do not wish for bloodshed between allies."
The man led Lord Blacken and the Knight down the corridors of the castle, finally reaching the chamber where Aegon was.
"He is at the moment talking to representatives of Daenerys Targaryen, the Mother of Dragons, but shortly he will be ready to see you."
Then Mace was about to leave, but he remembered the offer from the Hedge Knight. "Ser, I liked your idea of a tourney. I shall organize it in honor of His Grace here in Highgarden. Maester Gormon, send out the ravens to the Houses of Dorne and the Reach; they are all invited."
With that, Lord Mace finally finished his duties for the day. He retreated yet again to the Sept, where he prayed for Loras' soul and for a victory in the war to come...

Lord Garlan Tyrell "The Gallant", Lord of Brightwater Keep
Horn Hill, The Reach

After speaking to the Hightowers, Lord Garlan had gone to visit the Tarlys of Horn Hill. He despised both Randyll and Dickon for what they had done to Sam. Garlan and Sam, strangely enough, had been good friends in their childhood; them and Willas would play music, explore the castles, and go swim in the river.
Samwell had been the heir to Horn Hill, but then his damn father decided he wasn't good enough for it, and sent him to the Wall. It had been many years since the last time Garlan saw his fat friend, and he planned to go see him now that he was in Oldtown.
"My lord of the Kepp!" Boomed Randyll's voice, "What brings you here to Horn Hill?"
"I pray your whole family is well, my lord. I merely come to assure you of the new lands and titles you will win by fighting alongside the Rose of Tyrell, the Dragon of Targaryen and the Sun of Dorne."
"And what are, these lands and titles I will win?" Asked Randyll, seemingly unimpressed by it all. Dickon was it his side, carefully studying Garlan.
"My lords, once the victory is ours you will gain lands of your choice in the Crownlands, and all the titles that come with those lands."
Lord Tarly pondered the offer for some time... and raised his head, with finally some laughter in his eyes. "Well then, House Tarly has always been a bannerman of your fathers. Do you expect us to abandon you now, when we are so close to putting a Targaryen back on that Throne? We will march, and fight, with you all."
And that decided it: the army of House Tarly was raising its banners, and so were all the other Houses of the Reach.
Just then, a maester ran in and whispered in Randyll's ear. Then, the old man addressed Garlan: "It seems as if your Lord Father has organized a tourney in the King's Name, in Highgarden. Dickon," turning to his son, "I trust you will ride?"
The young man nodded, and said: "Yes father, I will be representing the honor of House Tarly."

[Danceria]

Ser Derren Rosethorn of Duskendale, Hedge Knight and Heir of House Darkwood
Highgarden, the Reach

---

"Gods bless your hospitality, Your Grace!" The wanderer called after the Tyrell lord when he departed hastily. He was pleased that the Lord agreed with him on a tourney being held, but there were new troubles to be investigated. Upon relinquishing his weapons (which consisted of a short-sword, his shield, and three daggers), he placed himself strategically behind the wall of the council to listen to the two so called dragons talk. They could be his new employers, so he might as well learn as much as he could.

The Knight had heard of the so called "Breaker of Chains", Daenerys Stormborn, another Targaryen claimant and "mother of dragons". Seeing Aegon for himself made the vagabond almost believe in his claim. He looked the part, with silvery hair and lavender eyes that flashed with power when he spoke. Perhaps if he could speak to this young dragon later... then he might judge for himself whether to fight alongside him. But there was also the matter of the representative of Daenerys, he looked familiar to the knight...almost too familiar. The lad claimed to be speaking on behalf of a "Daegon Blackfyre", who apparently had bent the knee to his distant cousin and wanted to see what Young Griff was made of. Blackfyres, Targaryens an' Tyrells...what the Seven Hells is this, th' War o' the Ninepenny Kings?! he thought bemusedly at so many branches once thought lost now coming out of the woodwork. These are strange times... the knight reminded himself An' if the Gods will this age to be th' age in which the dishonored find hope, then maybe I could become Lord of Duskendale... he silently chuckled at the prospect, as the dreary town would be the last place he'd wish to settle, regardless if he was it's technical heir.

Margarey Tyrell's presence was painfully obvious, and no amount of bards drooling and singing could compare to the character and beauty of the Lady of Flowers. The knight had an equally reverent analysis of the Tyrell maiden who was dismissed by Tommen and caught within treachery. I expected her hips to be a little wider, but she seems a sweet enough girl. Shame she had to fall in with the Lannisters for the sake of her duty... such were the ways of the Highborn, where tender hearted girls with slender figures would be married off to a fat lord with a fatter purse and the worst table manners.

Another figure caught his eye, a great Northman lightly tanned and a Blacken. It was not too long ago that he was stopped by a paranoid sentry at Castle Blacken, when he was on his foolhardy journey to find Stannis Baratheon. It seemed every one and his brother wanted to know bend the knee to this silver haired youth, but the knight wondered if he would be yet another Stannis. Bright and hopeful at first, but waning over time until the young Targaryen met an inglorious end. These are strange times, and I must learn all I can about them before supper...

[Eraus]

Lord in Exile Adam Blacken

The tall Northerner didn't like leaving his weapons(Dark Sword, Daggers,Short Sword,Poison) but he did. "Don't open that....It's poison from Essos" He told the guards with caution. "You ain't taking the Gift I brought for your Lord Tyrell and Lady Flower" He said with a smile as he followed Mace. Axel grabbed a cloth and began to try to clean the Wolf's head on his Chest plate as to try to look good for Aegon and the Tyrells.

After they got to where they were heading he saw the Southerner whom came in with him was spying on the meeting. "Oi, Southron....It's ain't nice to spy on people after they bring you in as their guest. If this was my castle I'd break your nose." Adam said with his charming smile jokingly. "I'm Adam Blacken, Capt'in of the Dark Swords. Who must you be?" He said as he still tried to clean the wolf sigil again. Axel only used on hand as he had fine silk in the other.

"Ohhhh Blacken Ohhh Blacken Thy shall burrrrrn again, Oh Blacken Oh Blacken thy shall walk from fire for it is thy bane" Adam began to sing to himself as he waited for him to be let in so he could give the Tyrells and Aegon the gifts he has for them

[Danceria]

Ser Derren Rosethorn of Duskendale, Hedge Knight and Heir of House Darkwood
Highgarden, the Reach

---

"Oy Northman, it's not spyin', it's called learnin' about yer future employers." the hedge knight smiled "Nobody can stab ye in th' back if ye watchin' it." he explained. The mercenary captain seemed like a sociable lad, even though he hadn't had the best relations with sellswords. "As for me name, Derren of Duskendale, though I'm also called th' Rosethorn or th' Knight of Thorns. If ye was there two years ago at th' Hand's tournament, I was th' man who unhorsed Ser Danwell Frey and gave old Walder a bit of an ulcer." Derren chuckled at the memory "Ye say ye're a Blacken? I was at Blacken Keep bout...eight days ago. A stubborn sentry refused me entry e'en though I've been riding for weeks an' had me sit out in the cold night. Nights are a lot colder than in th' south, an' there aren't as many hedges. I heard Highgarden had a party, so I decided to go south again." he paused, letting the information sink in "So what about you? What brings the Dark Swords to Highgarden? Lord Tyrell or the princeling over there offer some dragons?"

Despite standing in worn armor, Derron stood tall and confident, matching the Northerner's height. His helm was cradled under his right arm, allowing his autumn red hair to attempt to flow majestically in the warm breeze, had it been a bit longer. His eyes were a lazy leaf green, and his beard was not quite ready to be classified as such, and an overall pleasant face was tempered with a few scars, one on the left side of his chin, and one intersecting with the edge of his right eyebrow. Both of these were faint enough not to be repulsive, but visible enough to be conversation starters.

The Hedge Knight didn't care that he seemed like he walked out of a bard's tale, or a whore's story of a weary but handsome traveler. The Northmen respected honor and strength to enforce it, and that's what Derron intends to do.

[Republic of South Vantaria]

Ellaria Sand

Highgarden, The Reach

Ellaria and 20 of her men had been granted entrance to the castle. She left 15 of them in a large yard to wait, and went with other 5 to seek out the Young Griff.
She went through the large keep, seeing lords and soldiers in all armors and colors. Tyrells here and there, a Blackfyre, her own Martells, some of Aegon's men, and several other simple sellswords and Hedge Knights searching for money and glory.
She finally found a room guarded by two men of the Golden Company, and she said: "I am Ellaria Sand, of Dorne. I am here representing Prince Doran of House Nymeros Martell. I wish to speak to the King."
The two men informed her that Aegon was momentarily busy, but he would meet her before supper. Ellaria returned to her men, annoyed. If these Targaryens don't even have time for me, why should I fight for them? But she also remembered fighting for these Dragon-men would give her the chance to avenge those she had loved...

Prince Doran Nymeros Martell
Prince of Dorne and Lord of Sunspear

The Water Gardens, Dorne

Prince Doran was eagerly awaiting news from Ellaria, but the raven that came from Highgarden spoke of different things.
"Areo, hear this! Lord Mace Tyrell has organized a tourney in King Aegon's name. Knights from Dorne and the Reach are all invited." The broad shouldered Norvosi smiled and chuckled quietly, then said: "My lord, I would like to take part in the melee."
That took Doran aback, as his guard hadn't fought in a tourney for years. "Well, that's fine. With you my son Trystane will go; and he will joust.
Maester, inform my son of that, and Myrcella Baratheon will accompany them to the seat of House Tyrell."
The old man bowed and went off to do that, and Areo Hotah retreated to his chambers to get ready to leave. That gave Doran time to think of all that was ahead, and time to pray for the safety of those he loved.

[Eraus]

Lord in Exile Axel Blacken, Capt of the Dark Swords'

"Knight of Thorns.....That uh...That is an interesting name." Axel said with a Smile. "As for the Spying I'm fine with it. A mans gotta know whom he fights for. No I did not see that Tourney two years ago but I heard of it from my spy's in and around the north. I was too busy fighting Dothraki Raiders in Essos to be here in the Kingdoms." Axel said slightly gloating." Dothraki Warriors are something...Takes a real man to take'em down. The Dark Swords are here to fight for the King. I'm here to......have fun" He said lying about that last part.

"Blacken Castle....huh long time since I've been home.All Blackens are Stubborn and so are the men and women whom leave in our lands. So.....How'd she look" Axel whispered talking about Margery while putting his long hair in a bun.

Axell then saw a Dornish group of five being stopped."Hello I'm Axel and who may you be?" He said to the Dornishman

[Republic of South Vantaria]

Lord in Exile Axel Blacken, Capt of the Dark Swords'

"Knight of Thorns.....That uh...That is an interesting name." Axel said with a Smile. "As for the Spying I'm fine with it. A mans gotta know whom he fights for. No I did not see that Tourney two years ago but I heard of it from my spy's in and around the north. I was too busy fighting Dothraki Raiders in Essos to be here in the Kingdoms." Axel said slightly gloating." Dothraki Warriors are something...Takes a real man to take'em down. The Dark Swords are here to fight for the King. I'm here to......have fun" He said lying about that last part.

"Blacken Castle....huh long time since I've been home.All Blackens are Stubborn and so are the men and women whom leave in our lands. So.....How'd she look" Axel whispered talking about Margery while putting his long hair in a bun.

Axell then saw a Dornish group of five being stopped."Hello I'm Axel and who may you be?" He said to the Dornishman

Ellaria Sand

Highgarden, The Reach

The Dornish bastard looked at this Axel with content. She was almost as tall as him, and muscled for a woman. The man had said "Dornishman," so he was probably talking to Jurgen, who replied: "I'm someone who could smash your face in quicker than you could say 'Stark.' Oh and you stink of northern Westerosi."
That made Ellaria smile, but she decided it would be better to have a good relation with the other followers of Aegon.
"Axel, what my soldier Jurgen meant was that he believes you are a powerful soldier, but he wanted to honor you by showing he wishes to fight you... as is custom in Dorne." That made Jurgen snort wit laughter. "But naturally, Axel," Ellaria went on, "you do not even have to respond."
Then, with as cordial a smile as she could muster, Oberyn Martell's paramour walked off, stiffly.

[Eraus]

Lord in exile Axel Blacken, Capt of Dark Swords

"Then Fight me, Sand Skin" Axel Said loudly.OHH Bad idea He thought to himself
"Usually when somebody says Hello you answer back and when somebody challenges you...you fight em." Axel said with a smile."Also I love how you think Northern Westerosi is an insult..." Axel said catching up. "I like you people already...Now about that fight" Axel just then realize he was talking with a fellow follower of Aegon. "If it's your custom then I shall do what is honorable and crush your skull" Axel said with a smile. "Wait for a moment" Axel said as he handed his three gifts to the Knight of thorns and went back.

"So about that fight?" Axel said with a big grin.

[Nasaira]

HIGHGARDEN, THE REACH

Aegon walked out of the chamber and into the hall just outside. Aegon could hear voices and they sounded like the start of an argument between two parties. Aegon turned down the hall and saw a group of dornish and a sells word raising their voices. "In the name of your king stop this!" Shouted Aegon as he walked to the group. "I admire the spirit and fire but save that for the war to come." He then noticed the dornish woman standing there, dressed in silk that had the sigil of House Martell on it. Noticing how important she was Aegon introduced himself, taking her hand in his and kissing it softly. "My lady, I am Aegon Targaryen"

[Danceria]

Ser Derren Rosethorn of Duskendale, Hedge Knight and Heir of House Darkwood
Highgarden, the Reach

---

"What the Dothraki lack in armor, they make up for in ferocity...that an' holdin' their liquor." Derron conceded, but then slyly remarked "Does your "fun" include the Lady Margery?" he pried in good jest before lowering his voice "The minstrels lied about the width of her hips, but they seem to get the rest of 'er accurate. But I would be careful in courting a woman who would no doubt be wed to our snow-haired prince. Especially now in her current state..." the Dornishmen entered and Derron ended the conversation, he knew exactly who the maiden was.

"It seems th' Viper's brood seeks th' dragon as well..." he nodded at Ellaria "That is Ellaria Sand, pompadour of th' late Oberyn Martell. Among th' finest of knights that we'll see in our time...in character an' skill. The Dornish treat their women an' men as equals, so her daughters are rumored to be ruthless in battle...look at those eyes..." Derron nodded as well "See how they disdain us. Mark 'em well, they are the eyes of someone who craves vengeance, and delights only in gaining it, and having those with a similar passion alongside her..." Rosethorn shrugged as she returned to her entourage. "We're small swords to her, small swords in a big war 'less we prove ourselves otherwise. We 'ave ourselves a party of vengeance, lords hot an' bothered at th' "king" if 'e could be called that. All here ha' lost someone they cared about. At first wi' all th' Blackfyres an' Targaryens that the Gods decided they want the War of the Ninepenny Kings to happen again. But it seems more like Robert's Rebellion...only this time the Targaryens are taking back their own..."

Lord in exile Axel Blacken, Capt of Dark Swords

"Then Fight me, Sand Skin" Axel Said loudly.OHH Bad idea He thought to himself
"Usually when somebody says Hello you answer back and when somebody challenges you...you fight em." Axel said with a smile."Also I love how you think Northern Westerosi is an insult..." Axel said catching up. "I like you people already...Now about that fight" Axel just then realize he was talking with a fellow follower of Aegon. "If it's your custom then I shall do what is honorable and crush your skull" Axel said with a smile. "Wait for a moment" Axel said as he handed his three gifts to the Knight of thorns and went back.

"So about that fight?" Axel said with a big grin.

Or you could just ignore everything an' just... Derron sighed and then interceded.
"Gentlemen! And lady..." he nodded at Ellaria "Please excuse th' Northman, his blood's not used to the hot climate o' the south, so 'is blood's more riled up than it ought to be. Besides, we're all seeking th' attention of 'is Grace, an' we shouldn't be squabblin' like angry chickens..." he attempted to diffuse the situation with a charming smile and standing strategically in between them and opposite of Ellaria.

HIGHGARDEN, THE REACH

Aegon walked out of the chamber and into the hall just outside. Aegon could hear voices and they sounded like the start of an argument between two parties. Aegon turned down the hall and saw a group of dornish and a sells word raising their voices. "In the name of your king stop this!" Shouted Aegon as he walked to the group. "I admire the spirit and fire but save that for the war to come." He then noticed the dornish woman standing there, dressed in silk that had the sigil of House Martell on it. Noticing how important she was Aegon introduced himself, taking her hand in his and kissing it softly. "My lady, I am Aegon Targaryen"

'E's polite, I'll give 'im that... Derron thought.

[Republic of South Vantaria]

Lord in exile Axel Blacken, Capt of Dark Swords

"Then Fight me, Sand Skin" Axel Said loudly.OHH Bad idea He thought to himself
"Usually when somebody says Hello you answer back and when somebody challenges you...you fight em." Axel said with a smile."Also I love how you think Northern Westerosi is an insult..." Axel said catching up. "I like you people already...Now about that fight" Axel just then realize he was talking with a fellow follower of Aegon. "If it's your custom then I shall do what is honorable and crush your skull" Axel said with a smile. "Wait for a moment" Axel said as he handed his three gifts to the Knight of thorns and went back.

"So about that fight?" Axel said with a big grin.

Jurgen Jik

Highgarden, The Reach

"Hmm, I don't like hurting little boys, I tell ya!" Bellowed the large Dornishman as he took up the large axe that hung at his side. He brought the blade down, sounding a loud clang as the two blades collided.
Then, Jurgen asked, to nobody in particular: "Is this to the death?" Most voices screamed at them to stop, but a couple called out jokingly that it was to the death.
The large common-born man kept charging, going at Blacken with beast-like fierceness, taking only a couple hits...

[Eraus]

Axel Blacken, Lord in exile, Capt of Dark Sword

"
"my blood is fine don't fucking talk about my bloo..." Axel stopped as he heard Aegon. "Pardon me your grace. I got riled up easily. It's the Stark blood in me." Axel said with a smile. "I apologize if we did anything to bother your meeting. I'm Axel Blacken Capt of the Dark swords and Lord in Exile." He said with confidence. "I'm here to pledge allegiance to you my grace" Axel said as grabbed the Gifts back from Derron. "I brought gifts for you and the Tyrells" He said

Axel then heard and saw the man rush him. Without a weapon Axel could only dodge the first one and try to fight him with his fist. "Well ain't you a coward fighting a man without a weapon" Axel said as the blade got his side.

[Danceria]

Ser Derren "Rosethorn" of Duskendale, Hedge Knight and Heir of House Darkwood
Highgarden, the Reach

---

Derron used his helmet and pitched it at the Dornish guard, nailing him square in the head. "Ya meat-headed coward!" he charged him "I don't care if ye serve the same lord I intend to, I'll not suffer a fellow man bein' killed for anyone's amusement!" with a dodge of the mighty axe, the Rosethorn asses his situation. The axe was large, and required two hands to swing, and the man was brawnier than he was, so no chance wresting it out of his hand or wrestling him. Darting behind the Dornishman, Derron delivered a mighty kick to the back in hopes of knocking him off balance and gaining an opening...