Game of Thrones: A Song of Ice & Fire [IC]

[Yaana Noore]

---

HOUSE BARATHEON OF STORM'S END
"OURS IS THE FURY"

---

Renly Baratheon
Lord Paramount of the Stormlands, Lord of Storm's End, Master of Laws
The Red Keep

Even prior to the Hand's resignation it had been an atypical meeting of the Small Council.

The King had shown up, for one! The news of Daenerys Targaryen's pregnancy and the threat it brought had not been lost even on Robert, it would seem. The threat had been present for the last fifteen years, obviously, though the threat of support by Khal Drogo had finally got his brother off his arse and to the Small Council demanding a solution.

"It's the girl that is the threat. Kill her and Khal Drogo has no reason to help mad Viserys, he's been trying for the past fifteen years." Had been Renly's own opinion. "They should have been gotten rid of years ago, course." It had been Jon Arryn as the obstacle, as then Lord Stark had took his place, though back then there was no child in Daenerys Targaryen's belly. "But we have time still," Honourable, that one. But where would honour get us if Viserys Targaryen takes the throne? Our heads on a spike. He had thought. "So kill the girl, and then her brother."

Littlefinger, Varys, and Pycelle stood with him, the last of those with a wise argument about thinking of the state of the realm if one did not kill her. Tens of thousands versus one, perhaps two? Seemed rather easy without considering that it was his own family's throne at stake. "Mad king Aerys murdered your father and brother, Lord Stark. Just because you do not blame the children, do not make the mistake of assuming that feeling is reciprocated."

Only Ser Barristan agreed with Stark, the vote did not go their way. In turn, the Hand had resigned his position and left. Robert had raged on and on, shouting all manner of curses, as well as the words "treason" "execution" and numerous threats against the man and his family. A good thing that he had swiftly left. Everyone else had been silent, Renly's thoughts instead quickly turning to the vacated position of Hand. Cersei will not doubt say her brother, or her father. I must move quickly to prevent that. After Jon Arryn died, Stannis had put himself forwards. Renly had laughed at that notion then, though his own suggestion of Mace Tyrell had been shot down also. Pycelle had suggested Tywin Lannister, and he feared that Lord Tywin's advocates would only grow now that Stark was gone.

Once Robert had calmed down the Small Council had decided upon how exactly they were going to kill this girl, and then, after a few smaller matters which Robert excused himself for, they all left. "Quite the unusual Small Council meeting, I hardly expected His Grace to actually show up!"

It was an hour or so after the meeting that he received written word from Prince Oberyn via Ser Daemon Sand, requesting a meeting with him this afternoon. "Thank you, Ser." He read the note quickly. "Let the Prince know that I will gladly meet him later today."

He was in his chambers upon the Red Viper's arrival, at a desk with some documents upon it concerning the gold cloaks in an attempt at seeming productive. "Ah, Prince Oberyn! Welcome, please, come in." But there was another. A woman. Not Ellaria, but a princess of Dorne. "And Princess Arianne! This is most surprising, I was not even aware you had arrived. Today, was it?" He enquired. It had been years since he had seen Arianne Martell. And now she was older, and more comely. No Margaery Tyrell, of course, but very pretty. "So," he said, moving away from pleasantries. He sat back upon his chair, raising his boots upon the desk. "I am told you have come across some... interesting information. Pray tell, what is it?"

[Great Franconia and Verana]

The Crownlands

The City of King's Landing, The Red Keep

---

Oberyn of House Nymeros-Martell, The Red Viper, Prince of Dorne

---

Oberyn and Arianne entered Renly's chambers gracefully, each admiring the blazing array of colour that seemed to erupt from every corner of the room. Tapestries, rugs, drapery, statuettes, and many more treasures appealed to the senses, and Oberyn got the involuntary feeling of homesickness. The bright colours reminded him of the opulent Water Gardens.

Renly was seated at his desk, working on something. As Master of Laws, he was surely hard pressed to keep the King's Peace. But, for the news the two Martell's brought, Oberyn knew he would wish to be disturbed.

"Lord Renly," Oberyn said, as he sat, yellow sand silk robes tumbling around his crossed legs to the floor.

Arianne sat beside him, small, but beautiful. Her diadem glinted golden red in the candlelight.
"Yes Lord Renly, I had not thought to be visiting the Capital for many a year, but my Lord Father saw fit to send me to Court, to be with my Uncle. I come bearing a gift as well, though that may be more appropriate later."

Out of the corner of his eye, Oberyn could see Arianne's face. He had come to know the girl well better even then her own father, and he knew the look of lust when he saw it. Renly Baratheon was an attractive man to be sure.

How heartbroken she will be, Oberyn thought, Though she would not be the first to love Lord Renly.

As the trio would down the pleasentries, the Lord of Storm's End propped his feet upon the large oak desk, and smiled. "So, I am told you have come across some... Interesting information. Pray tell, what is it."

Arianne nodded at Oberyn, indicating her desire for him to take the lead here.
"Lord Stark left the capital earlier this morning, in some haste." The Prince shifted in his seat, lazily sprawling for maximum comfort, " this you already know. But tell me, Lord Renly, how did the Lord of Winterfell arrive in the capital, hmm? By the Kingsroad. A smart choice, safe, secure, and swift. Makes one wonder why my paramour and I spotted Lord Eddard, and his daughters boarding a ship, a grey ship, with an onion on its sails."

The Prince paused, allowing the insinuation to hang in the air. "Lord Stannis left the city as well, before the Tournament of the Hand, just after Lord Arryn's passing as well. Interesting then, that three men so loyal to Robert find themselves driven away, one into the grave, and the other two to Dragonstone. Make no mistake, if Eddard Stark is with this Onion Knight, he means to go to Stannis."

Arrianne piped up having been briefed on the events of the day en route to the Red Keep.
"What my Uncle has been wondering is why these three men were each driven off in turn, for all three are known for their loyalty and honour. Our conclusion? A secret. So dark and menacing that it made those who wish it kept hidden kill Jon Arryn, which prompted the flight of both Stark and your Brother."

Oberyn smiled wickedly, as he came back into the conversation.
"Lord Arryn was often seen in the company of Lord Stannis. And Eddard Stark replaced Arryn as Hand, meaning he had access to most of the late Lord of the Vale's things. He learned this secret, and is fleeing to his confidante."

The Prince noticed the look on Renly's face before continuing.
"Unfortunately, our investigation is too young to truly know what this secret is, though, surely it pertains to the succession. We had hoped you may have some answers, as the disappearance of Lord Stark from the capital makes you the most likely choice for Hand. And as we discussed before, once Robert dies... "

Arianne snapped her fingers suddenly, and a burly Dornishman entered the room, bearing a small oak boxed, elaborately carved with suns, Spears and dragons.
"Lord Renly, I know you enjoy items of exquisite quality, we have that in common. I brought a gift for you, from the vaults of Sunspear. My Father thought that, in the coming years, you may have use of this."
The attendant handed the Princess the box, and she in turn gave it to Lord Renly. The oak popped open with a click, revealing it's contents. Sat on a plush red pillow, trimmed with clothe of gold, sat a great circle of valyrian steel, set with seven massive rubies, hewn into smooth squares.

Oberyn nodded at the Stormlord, and grinned.
"We once spoke of men on the Iron Throne, those who are worthy, and those who are not. Your brother is not long for this world, if you dont mind me saying. One day, his hunting, whoring and drinking will catch up with him. And when that day comes, should you desire to put on that crown, Dorne will stand behind you. This is why we have brought our concerns to you about Lord Stark and Lord Stannis, and why we hope you might be able to one day fulfill our desires in turn."

[Kulonia]

Damien Branwell, Lord of Understone Keep

Understone Keep

---

Damien had secluded himself after Tybalt left. Damien constantly cried and stabbed pillows with his sword. He pretended like it was Tywin Lannister he was stabbing. "To hell with 'loyalty and honor!'" said Damien, tears running from his eyes as he stabbed a pillow with a golden lion embroidered on it. "To hell with the Lannisters! To hell with the lot of them. Tyran, Kevan, Tyrion, Jaime, Cersei, Tywin, Jenna..! They can all rot beneath the Rock as I stab Kevan's boys!" Damien walked to the balcony. He stared at the barren land that once held trees and forests. Branwell threw his sword onto his bed and sat at his desk. He cried a river as the salty tears ran from his face onto the desk, then to the floor. Branwell needed to have his men trained, but refused to walk outside of his room. He dipped a feather in ink as he wrote a message and once done, handed it to a servant. "Give it to the master-at-arms," said Damien, weeping.

---

Tybalt Branwell, "The Exile"

The Twins

---

Tybalt was forced by the Lannisters to keep going with no sleep. He only had a little piece of bread every four hours to keep him going. "Where are we?" said Tybalt, barely able to speak.

"The Twins. Don't suppose you can marry one of Lord Walder's daughters. Maybe then, he could save you!" mockingly said a Lannister soldier. A Branwell crossbowman gave the Lannister man an angry look. "What? Is the little, black lion cub gonna bite me?" Even the Lannister army was full of proud, arrogant, fools.

[Kernan]

Understone Keep, The Westerlands
Tywin Lannister, Lord Paramount of the Westerlands

Tywin sat on his horse watching the lights in Understone flicker and eventually be put out as the night grew darker. The wind blew a chilly breeze that made Tywin almost shiver, reminding him that winter was coming indeed. Tywin and his men had been at Understone to long, however Tywin was still wary to leave Lord Branwell unwatched; a man who lost his sons was unpredictable. To his left his brother Kevan stood and also watched Understone however with visibly less intrest as all could see, his mind was on other matters he found more pressing. Kevan, after a moment of silence only interrupted by the rustling of leaves, turned to Tywin with his now signature concerned look.

"Brother, we must go free Tyrion." he said

Tywin sighed. Tyrion was still imprisoned by the Arryns, or was it the Tullys now, at the Vale and frankly Tywin almost forgot about his beast of a son. He wanted to forget him and let him wither away in his cell, forget all the pain he caused Tywin and the Lannisters, the shame. "I know Kevan." Tywin responded simply, without taking his eyes off of the Keep.

"Every mintue he is there makes our enemies bolder, they think more and more that Joffery, Tommen, Myrcella and maybe even Cersei can be snatched and you would simply lay idle. Much like our father." Kevan said

"Do not speak of him." Tywin responded with venom in his voice. He then spat on the ground, cursing the cowardly lion he was cursed to have as a father. He brought shame and dishonor to the Lannisters, laid them low in the eyes of the Kingdom with his cowardice. Tywin vowed to never have that happen again after he took the reigns, he had worked hard to wipe that stain from his families history. However Kevan did have a point, his inaction would have disastrous consequences should the Martells get any funny ideas. Tywin suddenly realized that as much as he hated Tyrion, his families honor rested on him right now.

"So what would you propose we do?" Tywin asked after another moment of silence

"I say I take a few good men and ride for the Vale, pay his ransom and bring him home posthaste." Kevan suggested.

"Admirable, however my admitable inaction requires a harsh response, so it seems like we were preparing for something and not dithering and playing lordling." Tywin asked.

"What do you propose?" Kevan responded.

"Tomorrow pack up camp and head back to The Rock, send Cersei a raven demanding that she demand Tyrion's release. Meanwhile I will ride for the Vale personally to get back Tyrion." Tywin said

"I would suggest a large squad of men, the Mountain Clans have become emboldened by the tensions between the Seven Kingdoms. They can sense rebellion a decade away it seems." Kevan mused idly.

"Rebellion maybe, but not soon. Not yet." Tywin thought as he reared his horse and trotted back to his tent.

[Yaana Noore]

---

HOUSE LANNISTER OF CASTERLY ROCK
"HEAR ME ROAR!"

---

Cersei Lannister
Queen of the Seven Kingdoms
The Red Keep

Cersei raised an eyebrow, cocking her head as she listened to the young knight. "If it is important, then do tell me." She invited, speculating as to what it could be. Was Robert already aware of Tommen and Ser Meryn's absence? Something to do with Ned Stark? Or perhaps the agent of Stannis in the city, her own men had yet to find trace of the Onion Knight.

He heart sank as she listened. She knew already of the whore that Robert had gotten with child, raising her little bastard in Chataya's. She would have had the thing killed if she could. But... now it had been taken by Stannis. He is trying to obtain evidence against me. "Continue," she urged, trying to maintain calmness in her voice, forcing another smile.

"Y-Yes, I would agree with that." She cleared her throat. Stark is in league with Stannis... he knows. "Lord Stark left when arguing over that Targaryen girl, Daenerys, could this be related?" She suggested as a feint. "Both appeared so loyal to His Grace, I do not know..." she shook her head, focusing back on the handsome Arryn. "Thank you, Ser Jasper. I would talk more if I could, but... something urgent has recently come to my attentions. Please excuse me." She tried not to leave too hurriedly.

Jaime Jaime Jaime, where are you? She worried, seeking out her brother at the White Sword Tower. Stark, he knew. Stannis knew. Their children were in danger!

[Warg the Immortal]

---

Willam "the Honourable" Brude

---

Red Keep

As the door swung open to the Prince's quarters Willam was mildly surprised to be greeted by a young and handsome man, only a few years younger than himself. After a moment he realized that it was the Prince's squire, Ser Daemon Sand, one of Dorne's finest swords and a member of the Prince's retinue. Willam and Robert hoped they would become as well regarded in the service of the Red Viper. Looking at the young man Willam couldn't help but be drawn to his sky blue eyes. He had not really noticed how handsome the young knight was in their previous meeting with the Prince. The Bastard of Godsgrace looked the both of them over a moment before speaking. "The Prince is busy meeting with Lord Renly and his niece, was there something you two needed?" Willam cleared his throat before speaking, cutting off his younger cousin before he could speak. "Erm, yes, we just came to deliver our reports from yesterday to the Prince. Will he be returning soon, or should we return at a later time?"

[The Novakian Empire]

---

Lord Caleb Novakai, Lord of Seafrost Castle, Chiltern Castle, The Misty Isle, and The Quiet Isle.

---

The river row, Kings Landing.

Caleb sat on a crate, fidgeting with his hands impatiently.
The ship to take him back to Seafrost castle had just arrived, and his men were working on loading everything onboard. Caleb had rather enjoyed his stay at kings landing so far, but recent events called for him to return to Seafrost castle. As such, he would have to leave.

He heard footsteps, and, snapping back to reality from his mind, looked up.
"Sir, we're ready to leave." Thomas grumbled. Thomas had been at Caleb's side for some time, and had apparently enjoyed kings landing far more than Caleb had.

Caleb nodded, hopping down from the crate he was ontop of.
The two walked towards the ship that was to bring them home. It was a long, elegant-looking galley, with a plated knight affixed to the stern. Caleb recognised it as one of house Novakai's warships, the Swordsong.

As the two went up the ladder heading up to the top deck, Caleb glanced up. The moon floated up in the sky, illuminating kings landing in a gentle, dim light. From down at the top deck of the Swordsong, the moon appeared to have a faint blue tinge to it.

Other than the moon, there was not much else in the sky, aside from the occasional star, and a colossal mass of dark clouds, threatening to swallow up the faint glow of the moon.

"A storm is coming." Caleb mumbled, as his men began rowing the ship out of the harbour.

[Recon]

Winterfell, The North. Late 298AC
Theon Greyjoy

Theon watched closely as Tommard described life at Lake’s Bane. The smile on the boy’s face was genuine, he could tell. He was loved there, Theon thought. It seemed cruel to send the boy away from his life there, to come to Winterfell in the vain hope of resolving the dispute between the two houses. The Starks and the Boltons, the Blackwoods and the Brackens all had such long held grudges yet no matter the individual successes, the feuds continued. It made Theon think of himself and Robb. The only good thing from being ripped from his home was the friendship he had made with the Stark heir. He hoped they would succeed where all the others had failed.

“I would like to visit sometime. Perhaps if your family come for the Winter, we could return with them for a time after. I have seen many castles of the North but none like Lake’s Bane”.

What “True Axe” as he asked to be called when he was deep in his cups described, brought the memories back to Theon. At his home, there were neither mountains to climb nor animals to hunt, it was only the sea. Dagmar smiling, that was the one memory he kept coming back too. When he did something right, it was there the smile, swimming further than the day before, learning to ride a horse, holding a bow for the first time, always the smile. The Cleftjaw was an ugly man, truth been told but he had served Lord Balon as master-at-arms loyally for decades. When Theon was only the third son, destined to inherit nothing beyond his own ship, Dagmar had seen something in him, something the others did not.

“Pyke is colder, much colder than here or your home. The sea wind brought in the cold and the damp. So you would need to keep the fires burning for hours, before you could feel any true warmth”.

As the conversation turned to family, Theon kept his focus on the meat pie in front of him. It was still warm and delicious.

“My Brothers were Rodrik and Maron, they both died in the rebellion.” he said it without emotion, they were no great loss. “My cousins are gone too, not because of the rebellion, they simply died as children. It is only my sister Asha now, she is a few years older. We are the last ones left”.

None of his uncles were married, only one uncle Rodrik Harlaw had sired children and they had all died before reaching maturity as had his wife.

“I always enjoyed the sea. It is hard to truly master any skill, but as the Brudes of Lake’s Bane learn how to fight, hunt and ride, the Greyjoys of Pyke only sail” there was a pause, “and fight of course” he said quickly with a smile.

[Yaana Noore]

---

HOUSE BARATHEON OF STORM'S END
"OURS IS THE FURY"

---

Renly Baratheon
Lord Paramount of the Stormlands, Lord of Storm's End, Master of Laws
The Red Keep

"A gift?" He gave a playful grin. "I look forward to receiving it."

Inquistive blue eyes settled upon the Prince of Dorne, listening carefully. Of course he knew about Lord Stark, he witnessed it himself. The man had indeed left swiftly, though Renly had put that down to an eagerness to leave. The Northerner had never adjusted to life in the capital. Happened often enough, some simply did not fit into life at King's Landing. Happened even more frequently with Northerners, it was quite unlike their harsh, cold, dirty surroundihgs.

Initially he was going to brush Stark's choice of a ship off as a strong desire to leave. A ship got him there faster, it was only logical that someone so desperate to be back at Winterfell would go by sea. He leaned forwards with interest upon hearing what was on the sails. "Aye, I'm familiar." The sigil was one Renly knew well, an easy joke to make with Stannis. Yet something about Ser Onions had led Ned Stark to take him seriously enough.

"It certainly raises questions." Renly considered, strumming his fingers upon the arm of his chair. "Why meet Stannis? And then there is, why want to meet Stannis? I could make better conversation with a brick wall." His attentions turned to Arianne. Attractive, but she did talk a lot. He already got the impression that she was a strong-willed woman.

A secret? He mulled this idea over in his head. Like most, he had assumed Jon Arryn had fallen ill and died. He was an old man, with a foul wife and brat of a son, not to mention he had been Robert's Hand for fifteen years, he was no doubt frequent to stress. Jon had been treated by his own maester, purged due to a stomach illness, Renly had heard at the time. That would discount poison, but if not poison, how else could he have been killed?

Renly scratched at his chin, eyes narrowing as he tried to work it out himself. It was a puzzle. Stannis had been like an upset child when looked over for the handship, he had gotten good amusement from the thought of his brother storming out in a fit. Ned Stark was furious over the Targaryen girl, that was no act. Yet something united those two, certainly. Jon Arryn too, if the Dornish could be believed.

"Ned Stark resigned over the Targaryen girl. Robert said she should die, Stark disagreed. Vehemently so, might I add. Stannis had thought the handship should have been his. Said it so also. I can remember how my brother was, you could see the rage seething within him, clenching his jaw so tight his teeth might shatter. He's always been prickly and difficult to deal with, but with Ned Stark there was... something else too. I do not think he liked the man, is what I am saying. But there is clearly something that has driven Stark to Stannis..." It was a puzzle, one where they were missing some of the pieces.

He deferred to Oberyn, though it seemed that was as much as the two knew. They had not said it outright, but he had the feeling that they wanted to blame the Lannisters for something. Or was that merely how he himself felt?

He sat back properly as another man entered, carrying an elegantly detailed box in his arms. Renly leaned forwards, intrigued at what the container that the Princess offered him could hold.

"Thank you, Princess." He smiled, tentatively taking the gift from her. He gazed upon the heir to Dorne. Pretty, well-spoken, bold, wealthy, high-birth, good fashion sense. If there were no Margaery, she would have made quite the useful wife. "The two of you overestimate me, however. I am nowhere near Robert's first choice of Hand. He'd rather choose Moon Boy, I suspect! If this is a fancy badge of office you have designed for me I am afraid that you have wasted your time."

He opened the box. Inside, was a crown. No, it was the crown. Valyrian steel adorned with rubies, the jewels glimmering in the light. His mouth gaped open with wonder as he studied the crown of Aegon the Conqueror, the man who had united the Seven Kingdoms through both force and personality. It had been lost over a hundred years ago, though, in Dorne by Daeron the Young Dragon. And yet now, after all those years, it had fond its way to him, bestowed upon him by Dorne, who wanted him to rule.

"I... am immensly grateful for what you have brought me. I am indebted to you." He gave a nod to both. "And I am well enough aware of your desired payment. Justice for Elia, for Rhaenys, and baby Aegon." He placed his hand over his chest. "I swear upon my house, that when in that... position, I will punish the Lannisters for their crimes. Your desires will be fulfilled under me." As will mine.

[Dentali]

Dear Lysa

I write now for our father, he has grown old and I do not expect him to live long. In his last days remaining he holds on through the pain, septons have told him to let go and move on to the next life, but he cannot, he will not. His last wish is to see you and to ask you for forgiveness. Though I do not know what for he spends all hour night and day begging to see you and to hear your voice. He tells me that whether or not you forgive him matters not, he simply needs you to hear the words that he is sorry and his greatest regret in this world is losing you.

With love your brother
Edmure Tully

P.S. I miss you as well my sister

[Warg the Immortal]

---

Tommard "True Axe" Brude

---

Smoking Log

Tommard listened intently as Theon spoke of the Iron Isles and his family. He noticed that when the Greyjoy spoke of his brothers he spoke apathetically without any sign of affection towards them. Thinking of his own brothers and sisters he could not imagine feeling nothing over their deaths. While he had sometimes quarrelled with them he could not fathom them not being in his life, it made him feel sorry for Theon, having lost so many relatives, and being torn from those who remained at such a young age. Taking a drink from his ale he wondered what the rest of his family were doing. Last he'd heard his elder brother and sister were both getting married, and his younger brother, Alester was in King's Landing with his cousins and nephews. Clearing his throat he turned back to Theon. "It'd be interesting to see the sea. To speak truthfully, I've never seen it, closest I've come to a sea is Long Lake. But, from what I've heard the sea is salty, and wilder than any lake." Pausing for a moment he continued. "How about this, the next time I return to Lake's Bane you can join me, and when you return to Pyke, you take me with you. I can teach you how to climb an ice wall, and you show me how to sail. Sound like a fair trade?"

[Dentali]

Riverrun

Edmure sighed as he watch the riders disappear from sight. He stood on the walls of Riverrun, his message had been sent to every town and castle in the Riverlands. Edmure turned around, The Order of the Trident had been his Uncle's idea when he was but a child. In one of the many fights between his father and uncle his father had thrown out what had been a good idea to spite his uncle, "better late than never" though Edmure.

He heard his father coughing through the open window, the fresh air certainly helped him but made Edmure trying to get away from his father's impending death all the more difficult. Finding a quiet room in the interior of the central castle, Edmure unfurled a map of the Riverlands as Brynden entered the chamber. "Uncle we need to prepare for war with the Lannisters, if the worst happens with the imp."


Contents of Letter sent to all castles and towns in the Riverlands


A short while ago Lord Paramount of the Riverlands and lord of Riverrun Hoster Tully announced the intention of creating “The Order of the Trident”. I his son and heir, Edmure Tully, have the honor of announcing the official charter of the Order.

Knights of the Trident are charged with maintaining the peace on the “Roads and Rivers” of our kingdom. As such chapter houses will be constructed at many fords, bridges and intersections so that travelers and traders may rest under their protection.

Members of the order will be required to maintain a shallow draft warship of no less than 10 oars on each side.

Both followers of the Old Gods and the Faith of the Seven are allowed to join. And are not required to forego lands and titles.

The first Lord Commander of the Order will be my uncle Brynden Tully

In exchange for service in the Order the members will be given a salary and given a knighthood if they are not yet knights. Additionally rights, honor and privileges will be given, with the Knights of the Order being considered the best in the RIverlands.

We live in tense and troubled times, and more now than ever we need true knights and champions of righteousness to do their duty and defend the realm. Let all who join this order honor the Riverlands and all of Westeros

Heir to the Riverlands,
Edmure Tully

[The Immortal Wolf]

Wyman Manderly

Wyman sipped from his goblet downing it before rising from his seat "Lord Brude, You are a smart man" He said as he began to walk through his court. "You see, I've got ideas. We have three Boltons, One is Quiet yet Cruel, One is Cruel yet loud and the last...." He said as his grin grew

"The last has been subdued by the Starks. He lives with your boy in Winterfell, I've meet him before and yes he does seem to have the aura of the Boltons but he's more civilized thanks to him being raised by Ned Stark. Yes he is a Bastard but he's only got two spawns and if we ensure that the Stark ward is his only living child well......He might become Legitimized and yes I know this might be a long shot but no point in not trying as if we do I'm sure we can convince him to eat out of our palms"

A guardsmen rushed into the room with fear in his eyes "Lord Manderly....The Boltons have arrived"

"Good, Lord Brude I don't need your answer just yet but please keep what I've said in mind"

[Vladivostokava]

House Blacklocke
Lord Harkin Blacklocke
Blackreach

"Death Before Dishonor!"

---

The night was cold past the hour of the wolf, a breeze overtook the disrobed body of Lord Harkin Blacklocke as he strode down the halls his bare feet beating against the wood floor of his crannog as he scanned intensely. His eyes darting from hall to hall checking for any open door. Harkin felt an urge, a hunger inside him climbed to its peak as and stretched out of his belly and climbed its way out his throat. The lord began to growl and scratch on the walls as he walked past. His unkempt nails breaking apart as he pressed them against the walls. He had nearly reached the end of the long hall before her heard the creak of a wooden bed frame The lord began to sniff the air and began to cackle. The lord's eyes as vast as the north itself. Harkin hunched his back and began to slide his stark naked body against the wall before coming to a stop next to a door. Pushing the door open he could see a small bed, it was two of his servants. Both in a deep sleep in their own quarters. Harkin slithered into the room taking care of the sound his own feet produced. He soon stood over the two servants, two females with dark hair. Harkin leaned over the older one eyes wide as he inched closer and closer to her face. Soon he was but a inch from the first girl's face, she reminded him of someone.... maybe it was her. His daughter, "Rana...." Harkin said in a whispery hiss.

The servant girl's eyes shot open, terrified to see her lord hovering over her. She looked exactly like Rana, dark black hair and blue eyes, a pale slim face, beautiful, "M'lord, I..." Before she could finish Harkin leaned in with the angry open mouthed scream of a siren taking a bite out of her throat, spilling her blood all over him and the other girl laying next to her. The girl gasp for air as Harkin began to laugh a horrible laugh, blood falling from his mouth down his nude chest. The other servant girl had shot awake to the awful sight.. a mad man eating the throat of her friend. Soon the second girl began to scream, Harkins attention turned to her, his expression turned sour and he began to scream in terror, urinating on himself and the mutilated servant girl he had mounted. His eyes rolled to the back of his head as he fainted his shaved head hitting the floor with a thud.

[Kernan]

Near Golden Tooth, The Westerlands

Tywin Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock

Lord Tywin sat on his horse as him and his squad approached Golden Tooth. It was the last large settlement before the Riverlands and the main thoroughfare of invasion one way or the other. Common wisdom held that to invade the West you must hold Golden Tooth. However, Tywin repeatedly reminded himself of the vulnerability of The Crag and how it would funnel the enemy directly to Casterly Rock. As he approached the city a group of horsed men flying the banner of House Lefford approached him quickly, no doubt to see if this what this hubub was all about. Word of Tywin's move East from the Branwell Hold had been the latest buzz as everyone wondered what Tywin was doing, if he was going to invade the Riverrlands or just treat with the Tullys. As the group approached Tywin told his men to wait as he rode ahead of them to meet the Lefford party. The men of Lefford slowed as they approached before coming to a stop just ahead of him.

"Do my eyes deceive me or is that my Lord Tywin Lannister?" the leader of the group said which Tywin recognized as Leo Lefford.

"I am who you think. I am just passing through on my way to the Vale." Tywin said

"Well if you would excuse me m'Lord, but I don't think thats a good idea. The Tullys are preparing for a Lannister attack and will jump for joy if they find out your moving through." Lefford said

"No matter. I have the wealth and strength of the Westerlands behind me both literally and figurativley. They will not harm a hair on my head, should they value where their heads are." Tywin said

"What are we to do if you are captured?" Lefford insisted

"Go to war." Tywin responded. Lord Lefford smirked and nodded.

"Since your grace is set on this path, would it please m'lord if I send some men with you? To aid in your protection." Lefford offered. Tywin briefly thought it over in his head. If he brought to many men the Riverlands might think they are being invaded. However the more the merrier and the more the so called Knights of the Trident or whatever that daft fish lord is calling them, would have to cut through.

"I accept your offer Lord Lefford. They shall meet me at the mouth of the valley." Lord Tywin said. With that Tywin's party grew a tad larger as they approached the Riverlands.

[Dentali]

Edmure stood on the ridge and watched the men clad in crimson and waving Westerlands Banners approach the border. He had given his Uncle control of Riverrun and commanding him that "whatever happens to me do not surrender, keep fighting." An order his uncle agreed to a bit too readily.... Edmure had ridden west with 50 men as fast as he could.


He had met up with Lord's Piper and Vance, who had gathered 4,000 men in the area between the border with the Westerlands and the Red Fork. "If a Westerlands army comes east do not engage them in open warfare, shadow them, harass them and slow them down. Above all be sure you cross the Red Fork before they get there, link up with our troops there and hold the crossing." Brynden and Edmure had been working on the defense plans since they had heard of Lysa's kidnapping of the Imp.

Edmure, after borrowing another 50 men from Vance and Piper, now watched the border to see if Tywin would move through. Edmure desired peace more than anything, even if they won a conflict the Westerlands would suffer. Seeing Tywin move with a small party towards the border filled him with a bit of hope.

Leaving 50 men to observe on the ridge Edmure lead the other half down the ridge to meet with Tywin and his band, "my father always taught me shake with your right hand, but hold a sword in your left."

[Kernan]

West Bank of the Red Fork, Near Stone Mill, The Westerlands

Tywin Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock

Tywin sighed as he approached Red Fork, the river that marked the border between the Riverlands and the Westerlands for centuries. Well, mostly marked the border. In the Century of Blood the Iron Kings and Kings of the Rock gave the Red Fork its name many times over due to the many skirmishes and battles along the river. It usually resulted in one side regaining the territory it lost in the first battle. It went like that for hundreds of years before Aegon came and cleaned up the place with dragonfire, the only thing that seemed to finally defeat those squid worshipers. But that was so long ago that Tywin dare not dwell on it long, more pressing matters were at hand. Speaking of which Tywin began to wonder just how the Tullys got here so fast, he had simply approached their land and suddenly they were swarming like rabbits in a burrow. He thought back to Lord Lefford but quickly dismissed any notion of disloyalty. There was not much time to dwell on the subject however as his party stopped on their side of the river, the Tullys on the other side staring them down.

"Ah, Lord Edmure. I was just coming to see you! I would like passage through your lands to pay the ransom of my son Tyrion, currently imprisoned in the Vale after your sister Catlyn abducted him." Tywin said with a cold look of contempt barely hidden on his face.

[Dentali]

(Image)

West Bank of the Red Fork, Near Stone Mill, The Westerlands

Tywin Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock

Tywin sighed as he approached Red Fork, the river that marked the border between the Riverlands and the Westerlands for centuries. Well, mostly marked the border. In the Century of Blood the Iron Kings and Kings of the Rock gave the Red Fork its name many times over due to the many skirmishes and battles along the river. It usually resulted in one side regaining the territory it lost in the first battle. It went like that for hundreds of years before Aegon came and cleaned up the place with dragonfire, the only thing that seemed to finally defeat those squid worshipers. But that was so long ago that Tywin dare not dwell on it long, more pressing matters were at hand. Speaking of which Tywin began to wonder just how the Tullys got here so fast, he had simply approached their land and suddenly they were swarming like rabbits in a burrow. He thought back to Lord Lefford but quickly dismissed any notion of disloyalty. There was not much time to dwell on the subject however as his party stopped on their side of the river, the Tullys on the other side staring them down.

"Ah, Lord Edmure. I was just coming to see you! I would like passage through your lands to pay the ransom of my son Tyrion, currently imprisoned in the Vale after your sister Catlyn abducted him." Tywin said with a cold look of contempt barely hidden on his face.

Edmure's face showed clear exhaustion and lack of sleep earned from his hard ride, but he straighten up his posture and steeled himself to address the legendary lord. "We thought you'd be heading this direction Lord Tywin, I have sent letters to my sister requesting your sons release and arbitration of the king, as well as letters to the King and the hand of the King requesting the same." Endure trotted his horse closer to Tywin "you have every right to go get your son, I will escort you as far as Riverrun and my men will take you into the Vale to ensure nothing... unfortunate occurs."

[Kernan]

West Bank of The River, Near Stone Mill, The Westerlands

Tywin Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock

Tywin nodded as Edmure spoke. His plan was solid on the outside but Tywin was inwardly suspicious. He would be surrounded by Tully men for the duration of his trip, the entire leg in the Riverlands which put him in a very vulnerable position. Should the Tully's attitude turn there would be little he could do little to defend himself and would likely fall to their blades, if not be thrown in the dungeons of Riverrun. However should he refuse the offer this entire venture will be derailed and Lannister honor would go tarnished and that was something that Tywin could let happen, not after his father.

"Lord Edmure your kindness and generosity are truly legendary. I would be honored to have Tully men escort me through the Riverlands, as long as my own party can come along. Being a man of high stature I must take every precaution to ensure my safety; I hope you understand." Tywin said. He tried to be emotional with it, for once in his long life since his wife...left. However his voice simply was unable to raise above a stern temperament making it seem rather unintentionally that Tywin was speaking to a petulant child rather than the heir to the Riverlands.

[Dentali]

(Image)

West Bank of The River, Near Stone Mill, The Westerlands

Tywin Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock

Tywin nodded as Edmure spoke. His plan was solid on the outside but Tywin was inwardly suspicious. He would be surrounded by Tully men for the duration of his trip, the entire leg in the Riverlands which put him in a very vulnerable position. Should the Tully's attitude turn there would be little he could do little to defend himself and would likely fall to their blades, if not be thrown in the dungeons of Riverrun. However should he refuse the offer this entire venture will be derailed and Lannister honor would go tarnished and that was something that Tywin could let happen, not after his father.

"Lord Edmure your kindness and generosity are truly legendary. I would be honored to have Tully men escort me through the Riverlands, as long as my own party can come along. Being a man of high stature I must take every precaution to ensure my safety; I hope you understand." Tywin said. He tried to be emotional with it, for once in his long life since his wife...left. However his voice simply was unable to raise above a stern temperament making it seem rather unintentionally that Tywin was speaking to a petulant child rather than the heir to the Riverlands.

"Lord Tywin I have no issue with your men joining us, I assumed they would" Edmure smiled and turned his horse "please follow me it will be dark soon and my men have made camp at the top of this hill. Edmure motioned his men to escort the Lannister party towards the camp. "Tywin only has a dozen men" Edmure thought to himself, "I have a hundred to escort him, I don't plan on starting anything but if the worst happens i can certainly finish it."

[The Novakian Empire]

---

Lord Caleb Novakai, Lord of Seafrost Castle, Chiltern Castle, The Misty Isle, and The Quiet Isle.

---

The Swordsong.

Caleb heard the ship creak yet again.

He had been trying to sleep for the last couple of hours, but the Swordsong was sailing through a storm, and the noise was incessant. The relentless pounding of rain against the deck above him, and the occasional sound of thunder.
Caleb was quite sleep-deprived, and he'd finally had enough of laying in bed, doing nothing but thinking.

He sat up, got out of bed, and looked around. His armour was up on a rack against the wall, and his sword was leaning against a nightstand. His shield was face-down on the floor. Apparently, he had been too tired to find his shield a better place in the room, and just dropped it on the floor.

Dim light shined through the glass on the door to his cabin, gently illuminating it. He could still hear the pittering of rain against the roof of his cabin.

He sighed, closed his eyes, and left the cabin. The first sensation he felt was was, of course, the rain landing on him. It was rather cold, and Caleb held no doubts that he would be absolutely soaked by the time they reached Seafrost, if he stayed out on the top deck for much longer.
He opened his eyes.
The light of the sun shined brighter here, but Caleb could not see the sun itself. Alas, it had been enveloped by a vast, all-encompassing mass of clouds. The clouds themselves were rather dark.

A sudden flash appeared somewhere in the distance, briefly illuminating more of the sea around the Swordsong. It was a misty morning, but Caleb was not surprised. The ship was probably in Crackclaw Bay by now, more than likely approaching Seafrost castle. Caleb couldn't wait to be home.

There were some sailors on the top-deck, but fewer than Caleb had previously seen, when the seas were calmer.
He walked over to one of them, trying his best to ignore the rain pouring down on him, and tapped the sailor's shoulder.
The sailor turned around, and looked at Caleb. "Sir?"
Caleb felt the sailor scan his face. He made no attempt of hiding his tiredness, and he doubted it would've mattered if he had.
"Whereabouts are we?" Caleb asked.
The sailor paused, then looked out to the sea. He looked back to Caleb, and with a slight shrug, said the following.
"Your guess is as good as mine, my lord. We're surrounded in mist however, so we're more than likely near Seafrost."
"That's good." Caleb said.

"Is that all?" The sailor asked. He sounded a little frustrated. Now that Caleb got a closer look at the man, he could see why. The sailor was quite clearly, sleep deprived. "Did anyone get any sleep?" Caleb thought to himself.

"Yes. Carry on, sailor." Caleb said, trying his best to sound lordly. Even now, being lordly did not come easily to Caleb. At heart, all he wanted was to be a hedge knight, adventuring throughout Westeros.

"Damn you, father." Caleb thought to himself. It should've been Robert who became lord of Seafrost castle. Caleb missed his older brother, and he found himself thinking about Robert more lately. If the tensions in the realm hadn't called for his presence, Caleb would have left to Essos eons ago, to find his brother.

He walked up to the stern of the ship, and looked off into the distance. Something caught his eye.
The faintest silhouette of an island, which Caleb recognised to be the misty isle. "Thank the gods." Caleb said, a little too loudly.

He turned back to the rest of the ship.

"Land Ho!" Caleb yelled. he had been loud enough to catch the attention of the other sailors, who rushed over to the front of the ship. They hadn't seen land in over two days. The last landmass Caleb had seen in his trip was that blasted island, Dragonstone. Caleb could never rule something so..ghastly. He'd seen something strange there, too.
Although they were rather far away, Caleb had spotted a large number of ships in the general area of the island. There was no tourney or anything of note happening on Dragonstone, to Caleb's knowledge, so he could not help but feel something was afoot.

The mere sight of the ships worried Caleb. No fleet that large would be assembled easily. No, it was quite large. Whatever Stannis was going to do, he had been preparing for some time. Caleb pushed the thought into the back of his mind, not wanting to dwell on it.

When Caleb returned from his thoughts, he heard the sounds of rowing. The sail had been furled, as it was no longer needed by this point.

The island seemed closer, now. He could just about see home. In the distance, he could see some light. Perhaps the storm would clear, soon?
Caleb hoped so. As much as he liked rain, this storm had ruined his sleep, and Caleb felt slightly angered by it.

Caleb turned, and walked back to his cabin, opening the door and entering.
The storm seemed immeasurably quieter, in the cabin. Caleb was thankful for the reprieve from the relentless downpour that the cabin provided.

He grabbed his sword, and hooked it onto his belt, and combed his hair back. It was incredibly wet. Caleb did not want to look as exhausted and drenched as he actually was. He looked into the mirror against the wall of his cabin, and smiled slightly. He looked good enough.

He also suddenly realized how cold he was. The cold rain had drenched his clothes. That would not do.
He changed into something more fitting a lord, and pulled a thick coat of Shadowskin over himself, to warm himself up more. Just as he did that, he felt the ship slow to a stop.
The rain had also slowed down some. It seemed the storm was finally clearing up.
He left his cabin, and looked ahead. They had docked at the small port outside of Seafrost castle, and Caleb could see the banners of his house, lying against the bright grey stone that Seafrost castle was built from. He could also see, at the bottom of the wall, some darker, older looking stones. They were from the first castle on the misty isle, fittingly named the misty isle. Caleb recalled the stories his father had told him, eons ago. The misty isle used to be ruled by house fisher, one of the many river kings of old. House Novakai claimed to be descended from house fisher, but it could not be proven. As far as anyone knew, the founder of house Novakai was just some upjumped knight.

Once the ladder was lowered down to the pier, Caleb was the first to head down. He was happy to be home. As much as he had enjoyed his stay at kings landing, it could simply not compare to the misty isle. The island which Caleb and his ancestors had resided on was utterly beautiful, almost something out of a painting. In fact, house Novakai had commissioned a painting or two of its castle, back when it could spend money on such trivial things.

Thomas was the second to head down. He stood next to Caleb.
"Good to be home, eh?" Thomas said, glancing over to Caleb.
Caleb smiled. "Aye."
The two went up to the gate. The storm by now had devolved into a light drizzle.

One of the guardsmen looked at Caleb. "Welcome home, My lord. Enjoy your stay at the capital?"
"I did indeed, Mitchell." Caleb said, with a smile. Mitchell had served under Caleb, and before him, Erik, as a guardsman. Caleb knew Mitchell and his family well, as Mitchell had often taken care of Caleb when his father was not around.

The large, iron gate of Seafrost castle slowly raised. Caleb looked up, and saw the sigil of house Novakai flapping against the gatehouse.
Once the gate was up, he and his men entered the castle.
By now, the storm had all but stopped, and that pleasant, earthy smell following a rain had descended upon the misty isle. Caleb could not help but take in the wonderful smell.
He could see other guardsmen on duty, some patrolling the walls with self-bows in hand, others standing around the castle, holding spears and heater shields.
Caleb walked to his keep, passing some of the fortifications in between the curtain wall and the keep itself. In truth, Seafrost castle had only been under attack several times since the conquest, but Caleb insisted the inner fortifications be maintained.

The large, oak gates of his keep swung open, and Caleb entered his keep, as he had many times before.
He could see servants hurrying around the inside of the keep. They had only had a short amount of time to prepare for Caleb's arrival, as it was on short notice.

His Maester, John, entered the room. John was younger than most Maester's, and while his hair had begun to grey, john still looked nearly the same as the day Caleb had met him.

"Lord Novakai?" John asked, trying to get Caleb's attention.
Caleb glanced over. "Yes?" John always spoke formally. Caleb could scarce remember a time when he spoke normally.

"There's several letters from Riverrun for you, my lord. I have placed them in your study, should you wish to read them." John said.
"Very well." Caleb said. "Is that all?"

"Afraid not, my lord." John frowned.
"As a result of the arrest of Tyrion Lannister, Lord Tywin Lannister has come east, intending to personally travel to the eyrie and negotiate his son's release."

Caleb raised his eyebrow. "With an army?" He asked. He hoped not.

"Fortunately, lord Tywin has a rather cool head. Last I heard, he is coming east, with a Tully escort."
"As a result of this, the mountain clans have begun sending large ambush parties west. It seems they intend to try to capture lord Tywin. After all-"
Caleb interrupted john mid-sentence. "Lord Tywin shits gold. I'm aware. Tywin will not attack the Riverlands as long as he is east of the golden tooth, so there is no present threat. However, Tywin's capture by wildlings would be Disastrous, as such we must prevent it.
Caleb looked to the man standing next to him, Thomas.
"Thomas. Organise a party of 200 knights and retainers, I will relieve the Tully escort, and personally escort Tywin to the eyrie."
Thomas nodded. "Yes, lord."

[Kernan]

Tully Camp, The Riverlands

Tywin Lannister, Lord Parmount of the Westerlands

Tywin rode through the Tully camp and observed these 'Knights of the Trident' as they sharpened their swords and polished their armor. They were untested in battle but Tywin did not doubt that they were tough fighters as he recognized some of the faces from the many tourneys. As he rode past they gave him a look of begrudging respect, he was Lord Paramount after all. Not only that but Lord Paramount Tywin Lannister, he was legendary for restoring the Westerlands to greatness and making it one of the most powerful of the Seven Kingdoms. Tywin rode towards the edge of the camp and looked out on the Riverlands and saw its fertile land and a peculiar thought entered his head once more. Maybe...he should rule these lands, rule Westeros. He would keep order with force, peace with the blade of a sword. It was a thought he had not had in what felt like an age ago, but was more like twenty. He allowed himself the rare opportunity to indulge, picturing himself on the Throne with the other Lords Paramount groveling at his feet. It was however interrupted when someone came up next to him and began to speak.

[Jhet]

Kings Landing

It was funny how news traveled in a city like Kings Landing. The Tourney of the Hand had not been too distant in memory, and yet now Garlan's manse sat as the beacon of Reachmen within the capital. Here men and women came and went in the interests of his family and their vassals. Women pledged their service, Men trained in the courtyards, and babes were birthed into the world, all within the walls of his brother's home.

Returning from Mott's forge, his tourney armour returned to the master for the necessary maintenance, Loras passed men still at training. Pausing to watch the swordplay, the youth sighed at the skill on display. He could take on even the trainers with little danger. Only his brother could best him, and the elder Tyrell was entertaining his perpetual guests.

Realising that he needed to do the same, the young knight let his head slump.

Loras did not enjoy the company of the lords and ladies within the capital. They had lands to tend to and families to raise, yet here they sat drinking and laughing away the realm's woes. Lady Elinor was the worst of them all, at an age with his father and yet carrying herself like a maiden. A loud and unforgiving one at that.

"It is a very rough business, this issue with Lord Stannis I do tell you," she went on. Her ladyship's hand moved to accentuate her point, spilling wine from the cup that seemed to perpetually stay in her grasp. A lot unlike her husband. Lord Lyle Willum had more bastards every year, beating even the King for sowing his seed where it was not meant to go.

Willem Roxton, a young noble Loras had learned could stomach neither battle nor wine, replied in his stop-start fashion. "Let the man brood on his island.
The realm is best rid of him." He nodded, as if that made his statement any more true.

"And his frightful wife," Elinor added, a smile dancing on her lips. A foul creature that one was.

It fell to Garlan, ever the diplomat, to defend the King's brutish brother. "He is undeserving of this speech," the young knight informed his guests, glancing to his new wife for support. "The man has done us no ill."

"You can not mean that, Lord Garlan," Lady Regina sang in response. "He is a most unlikeable fiend. And I hear that he has taken on that Red God for his own."

Jon Crane, quick to repeat a young girl's statement like a lustful puppy, added his voice to the wine-fueled conversation. "A gods' damned heathen, Lord Stannis is. No wonder the King sent him away in disgrace."

"You seem mistaken, Lord Crane. Lord Stannis was not sent away in disgrace."

Loras smiled at the dilemma the old man was in, fighting against his impulse to agree to the sweet creature before him and the necessity of standing by his word. Fortunately for the lord, Elinor decided that the rest of them had not heard her voice enough.

"Being overlooked for Hand was his disgrace, Leonette. He could only leave to go back to his ships."

Round and round they went, Garlan and his wife against their guests. All over Stannis Baratheon. They had given the man more attention in one night than the man gave them in a lifetime. All that Stannis thought of them was as the foe that feasted outside Storm's End, if he even knew they existed. That man was interested in only two things: the crown, and nursing his grudges. Elinor and Jon's accusations must have been like rustling leaves to him.

"Loras?"

He snapped back to the now, turning to his brother with a vacant expression.

"Will you be returning to Highgarden with us?"

They were the last of the lot yet to leave. Everyone else who had flocked to the tourney was already back in the Reach, fucking and birthing in the summer heat. Others would remain, he knew of three of his father's men who had still to taste all of the Silk Street's flesh, but for the most part the Tyrell's presence was soon to vanish. A hundred servants, two, and then the capital would be left to the Lannisters. It was a thought that unsettled him.

"Yes I would think so. If we delay a while," Loras answered after a pause. "It will be good to see Will and Marge."

"A few days it is." His brother smiled warmly at that, looking back around the table. "We will have a few more days here to settle affairs, but I would be most honoured if you all would join us on our travel to Highgarden."

Loras finished his wine to the noise of the nobles expressing their agreement to such a proposition.

Highgarden

Mace enjoyed sitting in his sept. The religious drones had long learned to leave him alone, allowing him to truly enjoy the place. It was quiet, almost silent. It gave him a space for his thoughts to run free, safe in the knowledge that the gods were guiding them towards truth. Not that they ever seemed to help him in a real way. I have to do everything myself, his thoughts told him. That was true. His mother pretended to have a stake in his administration, but it was his voice that commanded and his hand that acted. She just say there loudly boasting of her growing senility. It would be a peaceful day when she finally keeled over.

His eyes took in the holy building. It was a magnificent thing, more sculpture than an actual structure. And it had been his vision, all his. The sept was once a place of prayer only, a display for the faith's power in the Reach. Mace had turned it into a display of the Tyrell's power. The ancient Gardener Kings had become statues alongside the gods, fitted in beside the great coloured glass windows which cast them in the green and white of their house. Benches rose up from the marble flooring, each one a different flower carved by a hundred masons. And here and there and everywhere gold and silver and precious gems covered everything in a majestic glow that would stun even the richest of his vassals. All me.

[The Novakian Empire]

---

Lord Caleb Novakai, Lord of Seafrost Castle, Chiltern Castle, The Misty Isle, and The Quiet Isle.

---

Seafrost Castle, the Riverlands.

Caeb stared off into the distance, at Crackclaw Bay. Today, unlike many others, was remarkably clear. Caleb could see the quiet isle, and even saltpans. In the early morning, the view from his solar was stunning.
For the first time in two days, he had gotten decent sleep, which he was eternally thankful for. He could not stand another day of sleep-deprivation.

While he would have liked to just take a couple days and rest, there were several issues that required his attention. Foremost of them, a letter from edmure, which he was yet to view.
With a sigh, he turned, and walked over to his desk. Ontop of it were, among other things, the letters seafrost castle had recieved in his absence. Only a few, but they were important ones, or so john said.
He sat down, and picked up the first envelope, opening it with a dagger fastened to his belt.

A short while ago Lord Paramount of the Riverlands and lord of Riverrun Hoster Tully announced the intention of creating “The Order of the Trident”. I his son and heir, Edmure Tully, have the honour of announcing the official charter of the Order.

Knights of the Trident are charged with maintaining the peace on the “Roads and Rivers” of our kingdom. As such chapter houses will be constructed at many fords, bridges and intersections so that travellers and traders may rest under their protection.

Members of the order will be required to maintain a shallow draft warship of no less than 10 oars on each side.

Both followers of the Old Gods and the Faith of the Seven are allowed to join. And are not required to forego lands and titles.

The first Lord Commander of the Order will be my uncle Brynden Tully

In exchange for service in the Order the members will be given a salary and given a knighthood if they are not yet knights. Additionally, rights, honour and privileges will be given, with the Knights of the Order being considered the best in the Riverlands.

We live intense and troubled times, and more now than ever, we need true knights and champions of righteousness to do their duty and defend the realm. Let all who join this order honour the Riverlands and all of Westeros

Heir to the Riverlands,
Edmure Tully

"Hm." Caleb thought, scanning the contents of the letter. He approved of this newfangled order of knights, as it would help to destroy the increasing amounts of bandits in the riverlands, and help protect against ambitious men, such as Tywin Lannister.
He would not join it, however. Atleast, not yet. Caleb intended to earn his knighthood through great feats, not just have it given to him.

Still, Caleb decided he would sponsor this new knightly order, and would have several chapter houses built in his territory.
Just after, he heard a light knock against the door to his solar.
"Come in." Caleb said.

He looked over his shoulder as the visitor entered. It was john, his maester.
"Lord Novakai, there are some people at the hall, apparently, they wish for you to settle some land dispute going on in your continental holdings." John said.

"Inform them that lord Novakai shall recieve them in his solar, john."
"Very well." John left the room. Caleb barely heard john leaving. Always light on his feet, john was.

Caleb stared out the window of his solar again as he awaited the arrival of the claimants to the land. The sun was rather low, and it seemed it was about to set. As a result, crackclaw bay and the misty isle was covered in a gentle, almost golden light.
"Strange." Caleb thought. It seemed that only a short time ago, it was morning. The day had flown past him, it seemed.
Afterwards, the claimants entered Caleb's solar. One was a lanky looking septon, that Caleb recognised as Brother Alfred, the abbot of a septry outside of chiltern castle. Caleb had only seen him once or twice, but his father did not seem to hold him in high regard.

The other claimant was a short, comely woman, who looked to be around Caleb's age. She was wearing a modest-looking brown gown, with a white undershirt. Not quite the dress a lady would wear, but certainly not the rags of a peasant.

"Welcome to seafrost castle, brother Alfred." Caleb stood up, and shook Alfred's hand. Caleb saw a small hammer pendant hanging from the abbot's neck, a symbol of the smith.
He then turned to the woman. "And you are?" Caleb asked.
"Alyssane Hayfield, my lord."
Caleb raised his eyebrow. "Hayfield?" Caleb was not aware of anyone that held land by that name.
Alyssane frowned slightly. "I am, erm.. Baseborn, your lordship. My late father was Adam Turner."
Caleb recognised the name. Adam had been to seafrost castle several times in Caleb's youth, and he was apparently an acquaintance of Caleb's father. Adam owned a modest estate outside of chiltern castle, and, from the tithes that came from it, Caleb had gathered it was relatively prosperous.

"Ah. Well, it is a pleasure to meet you, Alyssane. Why have you two come here today?" Caleb asked.
Brother Alfred spoke up.
"In Adam's will, it was said that his lands and holdings would, in the absence of a heir, be given to the faith. Lady Alyssanne believes she should inherit his lands, as she is his daughter. However, she is a bastard, and cannot be considered a heir."
Alysanne looked towards the floor, with a hurt look on her face.

Caleb looked up at Alysanne. "Did your father designate a heir?"
"Not publicly, but he told me that I should inherit after he dies."
"And no-one else heard this conversation?"
"Unfortunately." Alysanne frowned.
Alfred looked at Caleb. "She could easily be lying, after all, bastards do not have the strong moral convictions like us trueborn men, and as such are prone to deceit."

"Seven hells, no wonder my father disliked this man so much.." Caleb thought.

"I would appreciate it if you could remain civil, brother Alfred. Bastard or not, you should treat her with more respect." Caleb said.
Alysanne smiled slightly.

"Very well, my lord." Adam said.
Caleb stroked his chin, thinking.
"My father believed Adam to be an honest man, and it is only reasonable to assume that she would have inherited some of his traits,
even though she is not trueborn, so she is unlikely to be lying to me. However, she has no proof she was designated heir, and the will says that if there is no heir, the church gets the land. In this case, it seems to be her word against brother Alfred's.

"If I grant Alysanne the land, it is possible Alfred would take offense, and lodge a protest with Edmure, or the high septon. That could be problematic for me, as the septries in my land produce a large amount of products that they trade with us. If they took their wares elsewhere, it could hurt House Novakai's coffers. On the other hand, if Alysanne gained the land, she would be obligated to pay tithes directly to me, whereas we have to buy goods from the septries, and sell them for higher prices. From an economic and moral standpoint, I should grant the land to Alysanne, but that carries the risk of political consequences, not to mention the septries taking their wares elsewhere.

"Perhaps if I negotiated a compromise..."

"Would you perhaps be willing to take a compromise?" Caleb asked.
"It depends on what that compromise entails." Alfred responded.
"Alysanne would be given the land, but twenty-five percent her tithes to me would instead be diverted to your septry, which you could use to produce the products your septry is known for." Caleb could not recall exactly what Alfred's septry produced.

Alfred looked down, thinking.
"Twenty-eight would be satisfactory."
Caleb glanced over to alysanne.
"That sounds agreeable, my lord."
Caleb smiled.
"Thank you for your time, your lordship." Alfred said.
"Is there anything else?" Caleb asks.
"No, that was the only problem we needed you to handle." Alysanne responds.
"Good day, lord." Alfred said, heading downstairs.
With a slightly clumsy curtsy, Alysanne left, following alfred down the winding staircase.

"Finally." Caleb sighed. It seemed as if they would go on for hours.
Caleb glanced outside of the window. The sky had darkened, and he could see that the torches in the castle's watchtowers were recently lit. Perhaps they did go on for hours?

He picked up a handbell from his desk, and ringed it. Shortly after, he could hear one of his servants scurrying upstairs.
The door to his solar creaked open slightly, and a maid stepped through the door.
"What do you need, mi'lord?"
"I've grown rather hungry. Can you have the kitchen make me a small meal?"
The servant bowed. "Yes, mi'lord. Is that all?"
"Yes."
The servant went back down the stairs, to inform the kitchen of caleb's request.

Caleb leaned back in his chair, and sighed. "What to do now?" He thought. He'd been having trouble getting back to sleeping normally, so he would probably be up most of the night.

[Dentali]

Letter to Catelyn Stark from Edmure Tully

Dearest Sister

As I write to you Tywin Lannister is approaching the crossing of the Red Fork. He comes not with an army but only with a few companions. I believe he intends to retrieve Tyrion from your custody diplomatically. I do not know why you took Tyrion, and Gods know I have written to Lysa many times asking about her erratic actions but have heard no response. If you had legal right to take him father and I will support you in your actions, but we know not why such action was taken all we have are rumors about your son. As such I am riding now to intercept Tywin at the Red Fork before any incidents occur that could flare tensions even further. I am sending 50 men from House Tully to escort Tywin to the Eyrie, where he can represent and defend his son. What I hope comes from this is a determination to take the matter to the king himself. Should the Lannisters take aggressive actions we can easily take custody of Tywin, I need not tell you how valuable that would be. I am not asking you to release the Imp, in fact I would implore you not to do so. Instead publicly reach an accord with Tywin to take the case before the king so that the feud might be settled peacefully. Please implore our sister to respond to my letters and know that I stand with you both.

With Love,
Edmure



Camp midway between Riverrun and the Red Fork Crossing

Edmure settled in for the evening his men had traveled lightly but had enough to present their Lannister guests with a mild feast. He had order his men to be respectful and courteous, making friends with the Lannister party if possible. In spite of this Edmure knew the night would be tense. "Another day before Riverrun" thought Edmure looking northward into the black night....

Edmure returned to his tent and gestured to a young guard. "Please go to lord Tywin's tent and let him know I wish to speak with him in private, bid him come to my tent the first moment he gets." The guard rushed out of the tent to seek the Lord Paramount and Edmure settled back, meticulously inspecting his tent and preparing for the arrival of the great Lord.