Tristifer
The swell of the Sunset sea was a couple of metres high, setting a repetitive rocking motion which had put some of the crew off… more ease. Tristifer and Allise Oldstark had left Ol’Tower in a great hurry, given a handful of guards that would escort them to Oldtown. Tristifer sat by the captain of the escort guard, Rickard Royce - the brother to Lord Royce in the Fingers. The men had been silent for the most part, trying to keep the meals they had eaten earlier down in their bellies. Finally, Rickard broke the silence with a grunt.
“Well, I don’t believe you did it. You’re the most honourable man of this house, respected so much that even your lord father gave you his sword. I served by Lord Garn’s side since I was a young man, as was he. I trust his judgement over Lord Garett’s.” The thought of Tristifer’s father’s death sent a chill down his spine. They had received a raven from Rechard informing them he had passed the night they … [view original content]
Right, another clear vote. Tristifer will run to Allise's aid.
I thought this was going to be the option you would choose, and from a Tristifer perspective it would be the option he would've chosen. We'll come back to Tristifer a bit later with one more part near the end of the chapter. For now, I'm going to start writing a Jared part which should be pretty long if I follow my plans. If not, we'll just have to wait and see!
Tristifer
The swell of the Sunset sea was a couple of metres high, setting a repetitive rocking motion which had put some of the crew off… more ease. Tristifer and Allise Oldstark had left Ol’Tower in a great hurry, given a handful of guards that would escort them to Oldtown. Tristifer sat by the captain of the escort guard, Rickard Royce - the brother to Lord Royce in the Fingers. The men had been silent for the most part, trying to keep the meals they had eaten earlier down in their bellies. Finally, Rickard broke the silence with a grunt.
“Well, I don’t believe you did it. You’re the most honourable man of this house, respected so much that even your lord father gave you his sword. I served by Lord Garn’s side since I was a young man, as was he. I trust his judgement over Lord Garett’s.” The thought of Tristifer’s father’s death sent a chill down his spine. They had received a raven from Rechard informing them he had passed the night they … [view original content]
The Seahorse slowly drifted towards to harbour of the Harlaw Hall. Korb’s pirates stood along the ship’s balustrades, or hanged off the wiring to the top of the masts. Lord Kober’s men and Athen Greyjoy’s men had formed a shield wall, though Jared and Tanner stood ahead of these masses at the bow of the ship. Tanner grinned with joy, his axe in his right hand, held by only a finger and a thumb, stumps and faith. Jared held his axe by his side, and his shield - displaying the sigil of House Hoare - in front of his body. As the Seahorse landed against the wooden pier, Lord Kober’s men were the first to disembark the ship and continue along the pier. Athen Greyjoy’s men were soon to follow along. Jared searched the harbour from the Seahorse, and to his surprise it was empty. Abandoned. Jared turned back to his handful of men, ruthless killers wielding axes and blades with unshapable horrors. Andiron Quarter-Iron stood among the small crowd with his large iron battle axe in both his hands.
“You know why we’re here. We all have a duty to the king to put this Harlaw’s ass in the ground. It may not be our way, but it’s the king’s will for those who betray us.” Jared looked up to Korb the Pirate, who stood at the helm overhearing the speech. Jared turned back to his men. “Let’s show these Harlaw fucks what happens when you betray the king!” Jared’s speech was concluded with a battle roar, which led the men off the ship to join the two shield walls.
As Jared was about to disembark, Korb the Pirate grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him back. Jared turned and looked the man in the one good eye he had. His grip around the handle of his axe had tightened.
“You’ve made a grave mistake, Prince Pyke. If you’d only taken my deal, you may have even survived this attack.” Jared leaned in closer to Korb, so only he could hear.
“If I survive this, and we are ever to meet again. I will plant my axe into your fucking one-eyed skull.” Jared turned and disembarked the ship, leaving the pirate alone with his threats.
Jared joined his men and formed a small shield wall in between the Goodbrother’s and Greyjoy’s. They had made it off of the pier and into the harbour, which was just a great stretch of planks with cargo. Jared quietly ordered his men to spread out, searching every nook and cranny of the harbour. Surprised by the outcome of just how abandoned the harbour was, the three leaders of their small army met up in a small chandlery. The inside of the chandlery was full of ship requirements: cleats, anchors, grappling hooks and even ballista turrets. The men sat in silence, staring at the wonders of the chandlery. The Goodbrother eventually broke the silence.
“I don’t like this, they knew we were coming.” The silence that followed the Goodbrother’s words added onto the tension. Finally, Athen spoke up.
“We should stay here, secure a base. With the turrets and bolts, we could easily defend the harbour.” Lord Kober spat.
“What good is a harbour to us if no one is here? We need to get to Harlaw Hall and stick our blades into their meat.” As the Goodbrother said his words, he swung his axe into the post which held up the roof.
To their surprise, the post came crumbling down, as well as the floor. The men quickly jumped out of the way, and when they stood up they found two boys whimpering in the corner. They had been hiding in the roof. Jared looked up at the hole in the roof, rain started falling through the large gap in the roof. Jared turned as the door was kicked open and Andiron entered with his large battle axe in hand.
“What the bloody hell is going on in here!” Andiron yelled as they entered, the two young boys screamed. Athen turned to the brute of a man.
“Two boys hiding in the ceiling.” Lord Kober knelt down beside the young boys with his axe out.
“You’re going to tell me where everyone is, or I’ll slice open your-” Jared had sheathed his axe and placed his shield on his back, he leant against the other ceiling post with his arms crossed.
“Goodbrother, I’ll take care of this. Get your men to set a perimeter around the harbour.” Kober stood up, interrupted from his torture. A hint of anger in his eyes.
“As you say, Prince Pyke.” The lord said with a hint of mockery, then left the chandlery. Athen sheathed his iron longsword and turned to Jared.
“I’ll wait outside.” Jared nodded to the man, who had already turned and left. Andiron stood in the same stance he had when he entered.
“Wait outside, Andiron.” The man nodded, though as he was at the doorway Jared called out to him. “And shut the door.” The man did as Jared commanded, leaving him alone with the two boys.
Jared sighed and sat himself down, letting himself relax against the post. He looked around the chandlery, observing all the swords and pikes they had missed when they entered. More like an armoury. Jared turned to the two fearful boys.
“This your father’s shop?” The two boys nodded. “And where is your father now?” Hesitantly, one of the boys - who looked to be the oldest - replied.
“At Harlaw Hall.” Jared nodded, looking at the armaments. “Anyone else in the harbour?” The two boys now remained silent.
Jared stood up and walked over to them. The two were young, too young for death. Jared observed the two boys, one looked around twelve and the other perhaps a couple of years younger. He nodded at the youngest boy.
“What’s your name?” The boy turned to his older brother, then back to Jared.
“Siban, ser.” Jared sighed.
“I’m no ser. What about you, boy?” The boy seemed to be unnerved by the name Jared had given him.
“Banneth, and don’t call me boy.” Jared stood back, his hands in the air.
“Apologies my lord, it won’t happen again.” Jared grinned, the two boys look dissatisfied. Jared grabbed the youngest boy, Siban, and pulled him under the hole in the roof. Drops of rain landed on the boy’s face.
“Get your hands off of him!” Jared turned to his opposer, who still sat on the ground.
“Or what?” The boy looked at the ground, searching for an answer. Finally, he lifted his eyes and directed them at Jared.
“Or I will kill you.” Jared chuckled, turning his attention back to Siban but still talking to Banneth.
“You’re in no position to do that boy.” Jared sent a side glare which put the boy back in his place, then turned his focus back to Siban. “Does your father love you, Siban?” The boy turned to his oldest brother for guidance, though Jared shook the boy and grabbed his attention. “Stop looking at him! You don’t need him to answer your questions.” The boy looked Jared in the eyes and nodded.
“He does, s… Mister.” Jared nodded.
“And does he love you as much as Banneth?” Jared could see the boy’s eyes starting to flicker, tears welling up in his eyes.
“No mister.” The boy was in tears when he finally answered, Jared pulling in close.
“It’s alright, I understand. Do you know where your father is?” The boy nodded, Jared smiled. “Good, go to him. Give him a message for me, will you?” Jared pulled the boy away so he could see him nod.
“What’s the message mister?” Jared grinned.
“Tell your father that if he wants to see Banneth again, he will have to tell Lord Harlaw to meet me down at the harbour. Then he can have his favourite little boy back. Can you do that for me?” Siban nodded, wiping away his tears.
“Good, then run fast. Your father has until this afternoon.” Jared directed him to the door and handed him to one of Athen’s men, who stood next to Athen. “Get him outside the harbour safely, then he knows what to do.” The man nodded and led the boy away, Athen followed Jared inside.
“Well handled, my prince.” Jared smirked, and looked at Banneth who sat in the corner. Athen walked over to the boy and knelt down in front of him. “You’d better hope your father gets that message to the Harlaw, or he-” Banneth spat in the Greyjoy’s face, interrupting his sentence.
“You can bang your comments up your arse, Greyjoy.” Jared raised his eyebrows, surprised of the rebelling that this boy gave. There was almost something to admire, though Athen thought otherwise.
“You little piece of shit, you’ll learn who’s in charge around here.” Athen lifted his hand to smack the boy, though Jared caught his forearm and held him back.
“Easy, Athen. He’s my prisoner, and no harm will come to him unless the Harlaw doesn’t show.” Athen turned back to Jared, anger in his eyes. He stood up and left the chandlery, slamming the door like an angry teenager. Jared sighed. This will be a long wait.
-
The afternoon came faster than Jared intended, despite only sitting in the chandlery the entire time he had also had long chats with Banneth. He had learnt that their mother had died when Siban was born, hence why his father did not love him as much, and that she was a slave brought back from the Westerlands when the Ironborn last raided there. Jared had thought to him that it had been a long while ago, as it was rare that the Ironborn ever tried to raid the Lannisters. Jared stood and stared out of the roof at the sky, the sun was starting to set in the west, he could tell this by the darkness that started to creep in the sky. He turned to Banneth, who sat with his legs tucked to his chest.
“Shall we go meet your father?” The boy turned to Jared and raised his eyebrows, then stood up.
It had been the first time Jared had seen the boy stand, and to his surprise he was smaller than Siban. Jared ignored it and led the boy to the door of the chandlery. Opening it and stepping out into the heavier rain, Jared was met by Tanner. The man’s long wavy black hair had been straightened and saturated by the rain. His one cleanly shaved face was now with a stubble. He cheered like a madman.
“The Harlaw is here, the Harlaw is here.” He said as if it were a parade. Jared turned to Banneth and grinned.
“Looks like he does care.” Banneth avoided eye contact, Jared turned to back to Tanner. “Lead the way.” Tanner turned and skipped away, though when Jared started to follow, Banneth did not move. I don’t have time for this. Jared picked up the boy and slung him over his shoulder.
“Hey! Put me down you bastard!” Jared ignored the name and followed the skipping madman.
They walked in between the empty fishermen stalls and cargo crates until they were out of the harbour and at a hill. The harbour had been barricaded off with cargo crates, handmade fences and bits of driftwood. This makeshift wall was manned by Kober’s men, who stood guard staring at the mass army that stood at the top of the hill. Tanner stopped at the wall, doing his little dance, and Jared stopped by his side and put down Banneth. The boy turned to run but Jared grabbed his shoulder and held him close. Lord Kober came to Jared’s side.
“They’ve stood there for the past ten minutes now, sent no one down.” Jared turned to Kober.
“I’m going up there.” Jared wasn’t sure if the expression the man showed was shock or the face one gives to an idiot, Jared did not really care.
He climbed over the cargo, helping Banneth over as well, and dropped down to the other side. Jared turned to Kober, who stared at Jared with almost a saddened expression. Andiron now stood by his side, the only one man enough to speak.
“You don’t have to do this, Jared. We can wait this out, they won’t stand in the rain forever.” Jared shook his head.
“We’re running out of time. If I don’t return before the sun sets, start firing arrows.” Kober nodded.
“You’re one crazy bastard, yet your the King’s bastard. Come back alive, or I’ll mangle your corpse.” Jared grinned, turning and leaving the men behind him.
Jared let the boy run to the army, while he walked up the hill in sight of the Storm God and men alike. As Jared climbed the hill, the Harlaw archers drew their arrows, forcing him to stop in his tracks. Jared’s shield still remained on his back, his axe sheathed by his side. He watched as Banneth ran and hugged a man which Siban stood next to, his eyes welled up in tears. Jared smiled at the boy. He looked at all the archers who faced their arrows towards him, though he did not feel afraid. More or less, he was delighted to be acknowledged with so many archers, perhaps this made him just as crazy as Tanner.
“What do you want? Prince of Pyke.” Jared’s brow raised. That’s new.
“To speak with the Harlaw.” Jared could hear laughter among the Harlaw men, though silence quickly hushed them and they all moved aside.
“You’re speaking to him.” A man, perhaps on his sixties, appeared in front of the archers. His hair was fine and grey, falling to as far as his neck. “What do you want?” Jared grinned, looking at his foe.
“Let us speak somewhere more secluded.” Jared took a step further. An archer by the Harlaw’s side let loose one of his arrows, which landed right next to Jared’s foot.
“Very well.” The Harlaw turned and retreated behind the forces of his men. Jared was confused on what he meant, though approached the army nevertheless.
-
Jared sat in a small stone cottage with a thatch roof, his wooden chair was unstable and wobbled whenever he moved around on it. Opposite of him sat the Harlaw, who was more distinctive now. The man was certainly no longer in his prime, though he still had some muscle to him. He wore steel vambraces and shoulders, displaying the sigil of his house, though the rest he wore was chainmail. Behind him sat two of his guards, wielding pikes and long wooden shields with the Harlaw sigil imprinted on it.
“I am Harrin Harlaw, Lord of Harlaw’s Hall and Harlaw.” Jared chuckled.
“You sure do love that name.” Harrin eyed off Jared, then looked away.
“You are the Prince of Pyke, Thelred I presume? You share your father’s demeanour.” Jared smirked, though shook his head.
“I am Jared Pyke, King Qhored’s bastard son. Sent to kill you.” Jared noticed the guards behind the Harlaw adjust a firmer grip on their pikes. Harlaw raised his eyebrows then smiled.
“Are you now? And why is that?” Jared unsheathed his axe and placed it on the table, the guards pointing their pikes at him. “At ease, I would hear his words before the Drowned God takes him. That’s of course, if he takes you. It is not the Ironborn way to kill each other.” Jared sighed and nodded.
“Aye, it’s not. Though it is the king’s will, you have been branded a traitor to him and he wants your head.” The Harlaw frowned.
“I see, because I won’t give my men to him.” Jared nodded. “Do you want to know why?” Jared did not really care, though he shrugged nonetheless.
“I want to take your head off and return to Pyke, I grow sick of sitting here.” The Harlaw grunted and stood up, unsheathing his longsword.
“Then I will make a pact with you. With the Drowned God as our witness, let us pledge that the winner will allow the fallen all the proper funeral rituals.” Jared stood up and nodded.
“We fight at noon, at the hill. Spears, swords, axes and shields.” The Harlaw gave a wolfish grin.
“At noon.”
-
Jared stood at the barricade once again, this time staring at a lit torch arena. Jared could see the Harlaw wearing the same armour he had when Jared had spoken with him. Good, no plating to hack away. Jared could see that all the man was using was a spear and axe, so that is what Jared would use. Jared wore boiled leather jack, with an iron hauberk overtop. He too had chosen to wear vambraces and shoulders displaying his father’s house, though they were made of iron rather than steel. Jared grabbed his shield, sheathing his axe by his hip. Tanner passed Jared a spear, which he grabbed. The wooden shaft was smooth, though the wood was weak and cracking. The head of the spear was rusted iron, likely to break on first impact. Jared turned to Tanner, who shrugged.
“It was the only one I could find.” Jared sighed, looking at his foe heading towards the arena.
He turned to his allies. Goodbrother stood with his hands on his hips, the Greyjoy leant against a cargo container with Ezra Nightwood by his sides. Andiron Quarter-Iron held an iron norse helm in his hands, and Tanner stood with a large cheery smile like it was all a game.
“If I fall-” Jared started, but was interrupted by Kober.
“Then we’ll cut the fucker down.” Jared grinned, he was starting to like his lovers father. Tanner jumped up and down.
“Any last words if you don’t live?” Tanner asked, Jared smirked.
“Make me a Hoare when you sink my body, Qhored.” The men laughed, tapping Jared on the shoulder and wishing him luck. Andiron walked forward and placed the norse helm on Jared’s head, sending him on his way.
Jared headed towards the arena with his spear in hand and his shield in front of him. The dual could begin anytime now that they had both left their bases, though it was expected that the two dualers would exchange words before fighting. Jared looked to the sky, the Storm God watched them with the thirst for blood. The sound of raindrops on Jared’s iron helm were driving him mad. How can I concentrate on fighting when it sounds like arrows are being shot at my head every second? Jared arrived in the ‘arena’ and met his opponent. Harrin Harlaw stood with his spear in hand, a visored dark steel barbuta helmet atop his head, matching the colour of his dark steel armour. As Jared stopped a few metres away from the Harlaw, he entrenched his spear into the mud beneath him. The Harlaw lifted his visor.
“May the Storm God lust over how real Ironborn fight.” The men behind him cheered to his glory. Jared simply ripped of his helm and threw it to the ground. Jared heard gasps and chatter behind him. To Jared’s surprise, his opponent also removed his helmet. Jared grinned and grabbed his spear.
The two circled around the arena, the torches flickering as the rain hit the burning wood. One man would strike first, and the fight would commence. Jared had lapped the arena, and feeling like he would grow disorientated if he did another, he lunged his spear at the Harlaw’s chest. The old man lifted his shield and deflected the blow. Jared ran around him, jumping in the air and lunging all his force into another blow. Once again, the old man deflected the blow, except this time the rusty head split the wooden shaft into pieces. Jared threw away the mess, though as he was about to unsheath his axe the old man rushed towards him. Jared jumped out of the way, though the man quickly turned and swung his spear to Jared’s face. Jared lifted his shield, catching the blow and retaliating by smashing the shield down on the shaft of the Harlaw’s spear, snapping it in half. The Harlaw stumbled back, out of breath. The two men unsheathed their axes, and Jared swung his down at the man’s head. The old man parried the attack and sent a counter at Jared’s shield arm, Jared caught it with the shield, though the blow went through the wood and ripped the shield from Jared’s arm when pulled back. While the Harlaw was distracted with trying to free his axe, Jared took the opportunity to swing at the man. This time, instead of aiming for his back, Jared aimed for his leg. Jared swung, though the Harlaw had given up on his axe and caught the blow, bring them close together. Jared smashed his forehead against the old man, knocking him back.
Jared could hear the beating of drums. The Harlaw removed his primary defense and freed his axe, charging at Jared with his final effort. Jared rolled, dodging the blow, though managed to gash the man’s leg as he passed. Jared turned to examine the damage, the Harlaw was still standing though his free hand was covering his upper thigh. Jared grinned and licked his lips, walking towards the weakening man. He swung his axe down at his shoulder, though to his surprise the old man caught Jared’s arm and swung the blunt end of his axe into Jared’s cheek. Jared stumbled back, putting his to his newly throbbing left cheekbone. He removed his hand, and sure enough there was blood. Jared turned to see the Harlaw running towards him with his axe in the air. Naturally, Jared lifted his shield arm to deflect the blow, though when he realised he had ditched the shield it was too late. The axe smashed against his iron vambrace, lodging into the metal. Jared gritted his teeth as the pain shot up his arm, his grunt was loud enough for the closest men to hear. A cheer arose from the Harlaw army. Jared felt a crack in his left wrist, though the window was open. Jared swung his axe at the man’s back multiple times, breaking through the chainmail and cutting into him, no doubt reaching his kidney. The Harlaw fell onto his back, screaming in agony. Jared backed away and lifted his axe towards the men behind the barricade. A cheer shortly accompanied Jared, as he turned and looked to his fallen foe. He’s done. The man had turned onto his belly and started crawling away.
“Get up Lord Harlaw, I won’t let the mud steal my moment.” Blood squirted from Harrin’s back. As he attempted to get up, his weakened leg collapsed beneath him and he fell back into the mud. Jared shook his head and walked towards him.
Jared could hear the men yelling for him to show mercy, that they would join him. Jared stood over the Harlaw, who had now turned to face his killer in the eye.
“Do what you will, bastard.” Jared lifted his axe in the air, looking at his crowd.
He saw men of Harlaw’s army throwing down their weapons and begging for mercy. Others with fury in their eyes. Jared wondered if they would truly follow the Harlaw’s heir with them back to Pyke. Though he knew showing mercy would make him look weak to those like Goodbrother and Andiron. All his father wanted was the Harlaw army, whether the lord was dead or not did not matter. Jared looked down to his fallen opponent.
Jared could hear the beating of drums. The Harlaw removed his primary defense and freed his axe, charging at Jared with his final effort. Ja… morered rolled, dodging the blow, though managed to gash the man’s leg as he passed. Jared turned to examine the damage, the Harlaw was still standing though his free hand was covering his upper thigh. Jared grinned and licked his lips, walking towards the weakening man. He swung his axe down at his shoulder, though to his surprise the old man caught Jared’s arm and swung the blunt end of his axe into Jared’s cheek. Jared stumbled back, putting his to his newly throbbing left cheekbone. He removed his hand, and sure enough there was blood. Jared turned to see the Harlaw running towards him with his axe in the air. Naturally, Jared lifted his shield arm to deflect the blow, though when he realised he had ditched the shield it was too late. The axe smashed against his iron vambrace, lodging into the metal. Jare… [view original content]
Jared could hear the beating of drums. The Harlaw removed his primary defense and freed his axe, charging at Jared with his final effort. Ja… morered rolled, dodging the blow, though managed to gash the man’s leg as he passed. Jared turned to examine the damage, the Harlaw was still standing though his free hand was covering his upper thigh. Jared grinned and licked his lips, walking towards the weakening man. He swung his axe down at his shoulder, though to his surprise the old man caught Jared’s arm and swung the blunt end of his axe into Jared’s cheek. Jared stumbled back, putting his to his newly throbbing left cheekbone. He removed his hand, and sure enough there was blood. Jared turned to see the Harlaw running towards him with his axe in the air. Naturally, Jared lifted his shield arm to deflect the blow, though when he realised he had ditched the shield it was too late. The axe smashed against his iron vambrace, lodging into the metal. Jare… [view original content]
She had once again found herself in the torture chambers, though rather than admiring the work, she was participating. Rila held her dagger with a steady hand, in front of her was a cold corpse that was once a Bolton soldier. A traitor, Rila thought to herself with amusement. The man had been found sending the layout of the Dreadfort to a man named Norrhen Cassel, though had fortunately been stopped before sending the ravens. Rila’s father, the Red King of the Dreadfort, had ordered the man to be flayed to give his secrets. Skinner, her father’s favourite flayer, had taken on the torture and left the remnants of the corpse for Rila. As her father nor brothers had never taught her the skill to flaying, Rila had learnt from observation and practice on the left over corpses that her father’s executioners had left for her. Over the years she had become quite good at it, though today her work was shocking. Rila placed the blade at the skin and sliced away too much flesh, for the third time. She muttered under her breath, and decided it was time to try a different region. Rila knelt down and started on the pale white thigh, removing the leg hair. As she cut into the corpse’s leg, she sliced far too deep and severed the artery. When she removed her dagger it was too late, blood at already squirted all over her face and gotten into her mouth. Backing away, swallowing the day old blood, Rila stood and wiped her face with a rag. She pulled the rag away when she heard the rattling of chains approaching towards her. She saw the flayed man she knew as Sigil, once being her uncle, though now a hideous creature. He turned and looked at the flayed man.
“Skinner’s work. I'd recognise that technique from a mile away. Yours however, well it needs work.” Rila spat out old dried blood and returned to the corpse.
“Shut it old man, I did not come down here for your counsel.” As she was about to slice into the other leg, the flayed man replied.
“Then what did you come down here for?” Rila turned to Sigil with her dagger in hand, looking at him like he was the most idiotic man to lurk in the Dreadfort. She turned back to her work in silence. “Well, suit yourself. You know where to find me.” Rila listened as the chains rattled off into the distance, then went silent.
She sighed, her mood had been off all day. It was not her time of the month, though something else. Her father had recently had his ceremonial anointing, being branded as the Red King. When she was about to be announced, Terrek of House Whitehill had bursted through the doors and ruined the whole evening. Rila was still bitter to her father for not granting her the titles and blessings that he had bestowed onto his sons. So Rila came down to the torture chambers, to slice the problems away.
Rila worked silently, and barely noticed when her brother had sat down behind her and watched her work. Only when he cleared his throat did she turn around to see him. Jory wore his dark brown tunic, and his dark grey leather vest over the top of it. He wore his leather gloves, and all his travelling gear. His dark steel sallet rested by his side. Rila smiled and walked over to her older brother, sitting beside him.
“I’m heading off with Terrek Whitehill today. Fifty of our soldiers are to accompany me, we’re going to make a base of operations at Highpoint. When the Starks decide to take their army to the Dreadfort, we’ll hit them from behind at Winterfell.” Rila grinned and caressed his cheek, though her sour mood once again flooded over her.
“No doubt father will keep me here, marry me off to that Skagosi bastard like he threatened to.” Jory rolled his eyes and leant against the iron bars behind him.
“I doubt it, he actually wants to speak with you. That’s part of the reason why I’m down here.” Rila threw the words around her mind for a while before replying, they just did not make sense to her.
“Why would he want to speak with his disapproving daughter?” Jory shrugged.
“I don’t ask questions, I just act.” Rila sighed, knowing this to be far too true. “Come on, we’ll go to his quarters. I think if you keep this up you’ll end up like Leech, not that there’s anything wrong with Leech’s work.” Jory grinned, and Rila felt like hitting him in return.
Jory quickly grabbed his helm and jokingly darted away, like a mad jester putting on a parade for the King. Rila shook her head and chased after him.
-
The two ran through the halls of the Dreadfort, bumping into guards and nobles alike. Once they finally made it to her father’s quarters, they stopped and embraced. Rila rested her head on Jory’s shoulder, feeling his warm through the cloth sweater. She looked up at him with her icy eyes.
“Don’t get yourself killed brother. You might respect the Starks, but I don’t. Do not hesitate to flay everyone of those fuckers.” Jory frowned, flicking his focus between his sister’s two eyes.
“I need to go, we ride at nightfall. Which if you hadn’t noticed, is not too far away.” Rila turned and looked out the hall windows, which were tinted black making it harder to see outside.
Before Rila could say her farewells, her brother was already down the end of the hall and exiting the Dreadfort. She sighed and turned to the doors of her father’s quarters, she was not ready though it was her duty as a Bolton to serve her father. She walked to the double dark wooden doors and considered knocking. I am his daughter, I don’t need to lower myself to that level. Rila opened the doors and entered. The room was darker than the hall, to her surprise, and was only fueled by one candle. As Rila’s eyes adjusted, she saw her father sitting behind his desk, and opposite of him was his ward: Donnor Frost. He sighed and turned back to the young man.
“Very well, you may ride to the Frost Keep. Though I will be sending someone with you.” The man smiled and nodded.
“As you wish, your grace.” The King rolled his eyes and nodded.
“Yes yes, you’re dismissed. Rila stared at Donnor as he walked passed her, there was some charm to him that made her nervous whenever she was in his presence. She shook the feeling and turned to her father.
“My king, you wished for my appearance?” Nestar grunted and looked to the seat opposite him.
“Sit down.” Rila did as her father commanded, without hesitation. “I spoke with Baerik Magnar, and you’re in luck. Turns out he wanted to marry his sister.” Rila felt as if a weight from her endless load on her shoulders had been removed. She wanted to smile, though held back the urge and shook her head sadly.
“How disappointing, I am sorry to hear of this, my king.” Nestar scowled at Rila with a cold bitterness.
“Keep your comments to yourself girl. You wonder why you weren’t granted your titles and blessings, this attitude is why.” Rila felt like that weight had been added again, though she held her ground.
“Apologies father, won’t happen again.” She knew her words were lies, though she did not look to anger him at this moment. He gently nodded and stood up.
“I’ve decided I can’t keep you here forever, and I can’t marry you off to someone you don’t love. You walked into this conversation late, though you know Donnor is heading to the Frost Keep.” Rila nodded, though it had made her curious.
“Why is that?” Nestar shrugged.
“I have treated the boy like a son, had my children treat him like family. Yet still, he wishes to leave and rejoin his family. He won’t be my ward forever, though he is still not ready to leave the Dreadfort.” Rila nodded, confused why he would want to leave so soon though understanding nonetheless.
“Who are you choosing for his escort?” Nestar shrugged.
“Perhaps Jeck, or Hunter. Maybe even you, you’re highly capable and have your wits about you. Might do you good to see another family as well. Maybe even marry and solidify the alliance.” Nestar shrugged. “Of course, Jory also wanted you to join him to Highpoint. I also see this as a valid option, as he is not the best when it comes to strategy and politics. Neither are the Whitehills.” Rila was a little taken back by these offers from her father.
“Are you sure you don’t want me by your side?” Nestar chuckled.
“To do what? Sit with boredom and sneak off into the torture chambers? No, I have Shayne to watch over me. You choose what you want to do, but I don’t want to see you here tomorrow. If I do, I will personally kick you out.” Rila felt herself smile, though she was not aware if that was appropriate. She was not even sure if what was happening was good or not, though she was happy to leave.
She thought heavily on who she would like to accompany. There was no doubting that she had a soft spot for Donnor, and perhaps they could make something out of it in the long term. Though she did not know if he felt the same. Then there was her brother, she knew that this war would not survive off fighting alone. It was possible her skills with politics, diplomacy and strategy could be of some use at Highpoint, if she was heard.
Usually, I'd be all for mercy. In this case however, I'm afraid I don't see it as fitting. What he did was basically treason, even if I somewhat sympathize with him. If anything, it would be up for the king to give him mercy or not and the king already ordered Jared to kill Harlaw. Aside from that, even if we see Jared as a relatively good guy, he is still Ironborn and mercy is not the way of the Ironborn, especially not when it comes to someone who commited high treason. He said himself that some of the men won't respect him when they see him as weak. Similarly, I doubt the Harlaw will be impressed and the rest of his men probably won't follow a weakling either.
Jared could hear the beating of drums. The Harlaw removed his primary defense and freed his axe, charging at Jared with his final effort. Ja… morered rolled, dodging the blow, though managed to gash the man’s leg as he passed. Jared turned to examine the damage, the Harlaw was still standing though his free hand was covering his upper thigh. Jared grinned and licked his lips, walking towards the weakening man. He swung his axe down at his shoulder, though to his surprise the old man caught Jared’s arm and swung the blunt end of his axe into Jared’s cheek. Jared stumbled back, putting his to his newly throbbing left cheekbone. He removed his hand, and sure enough there was blood. Jared turned to see the Harlaw running towards him with his axe in the air. Naturally, Jared lifted his shield arm to deflect the blow, though when he realised he had ditched the shield it was too late. The axe smashed against his iron vambrace, lodging into the metal. Jare… [view original content]
Jared could hear the beating of drums. The Harlaw removed his primary defense and freed his axe, charging at Jared with his final effort. Ja… morered rolled, dodging the blow, though managed to gash the man’s leg as he passed. Jared turned to examine the damage, the Harlaw was still standing though his free hand was covering his upper thigh. Jared grinned and licked his lips, walking towards the weakening man. He swung his axe down at his shoulder, though to his surprise the old man caught Jared’s arm and swung the blunt end of his axe into Jared’s cheek. Jared stumbled back, putting his to his newly throbbing left cheekbone. He removed his hand, and sure enough there was blood. Jared turned to see the Harlaw running towards him with his axe in the air. Naturally, Jared lifted his shield arm to deflect the blow, though when he realised he had ditched the shield it was too late. The axe smashed against his iron vambrace, lodging into the metal. Jare… [view original content]
God, Rila is such a psycho. A Bolton to the core and so damn creepy. There's something about her that is really unsettling. With this choice, I was torn, as neither options have particularly good arguments that totally convince me in favour of one of them. Since I still have to choose, I chose the Frost Keep. On the one hand, I kinda enjoyed Rila's interaction with Jory. For a family that is rather known for hating each other almost as much as they hate the rest of the world, this was a nice touch. On the other hand, Rila can be useful at Highpoint. In this war, I root for the Starks, so I don't want her to be useful.
Rila
She had once again found herself in the torture chambers, though rather than admiring the work, she was participating. Rila held her… more dagger with a steady hand, in front of her was a cold corpse that was once a Bolton soldier. A traitor, Rila thought to herself with amusement. The man had been found sending the layout of the Dreadfort to a man named Norrhen Cassel, though had fortunately been stopped before sending the ravens. Rila’s father, the Red King of the Dreadfort, had ordered the man to be flayed to give his secrets. Skinner, her father’s favourite flayer, had taken on the torture and left the remnants of the corpse for Rila. As her father nor brothers had never taught her the skill to flaying, Rila had learnt from observation and practice on the left over corpses that her father’s executioners had left for her. Over the years she had become quite good at it, though today her work was shocking. Rila placed the blade at the skin… [view original content]
[Go to the Frost Keep]
God, Rila is such a psycho. A Bolton to the core and so damn creepy. There's something about her that is really un… moresettling. With this choice, I was torn, as neither options have particularly good arguments that totally convince me in favour of one of them. Since I still have to choose, I chose the Frost Keep. On the one hand, I kinda enjoyed Rila's interaction with Jory. For a family that is rather known for hating each other almost as much as they hate the rest of the world, this was a nice touch. On the other hand, Rila can be useful at Highpoint. In this war, I root for the Starks, so I don't want her to be useful.
Jared could hear the beating of drums. The Harlaw removed his primary defense and freed his axe, charging at Jared with his final effort. Ja… morered rolled, dodging the blow, though managed to gash the man’s leg as he passed. Jared turned to examine the damage, the Harlaw was still standing though his free hand was covering his upper thigh. Jared grinned and licked his lips, walking towards the weakening man. He swung his axe down at his shoulder, though to his surprise the old man caught Jared’s arm and swung the blunt end of his axe into Jared’s cheek. Jared stumbled back, putting his to his newly throbbing left cheekbone. He removed his hand, and sure enough there was blood. Jared turned to see the Harlaw running towards him with his axe in the air. Naturally, Jared lifted his shield arm to deflect the blow, though when he realised he had ditched the shield it was too late. The axe smashed against his iron vambrace, lodging into the metal. Jare… [view original content]
Rila
She had once again found herself in the torture chambers, though rather than admiring the work, she was participating. Rila held her… more dagger with a steady hand, in front of her was a cold corpse that was once a Bolton soldier. A traitor, Rila thought to herself with amusement. The man had been found sending the layout of the Dreadfort to a man named Norrhen Cassel, though had fortunately been stopped before sending the ravens. Rila’s father, the Red King of the Dreadfort, had ordered the man to be flayed to give his secrets. Skinner, her father’s favourite flayer, had taken on the torture and left the remnants of the corpse for Rila. As her father nor brothers had never taught her the skill to flaying, Rila had learnt from observation and practice on the left over corpses that her father’s executioners had left for her. Over the years she had become quite good at it, though today her work was shocking. Rila placed the blade at the skin… [view original content]
Rila
She had once again found herself in the torture chambers, though rather than admiring the work, she was participating. Rila held her… more dagger with a steady hand, in front of her was a cold corpse that was once a Bolton soldier. A traitor, Rila thought to herself with amusement. The man had been found sending the layout of the Dreadfort to a man named Norrhen Cassel, though had fortunately been stopped before sending the ravens. Rila’s father, the Red King of the Dreadfort, had ordered the man to be flayed to give his secrets. Skinner, her father’s favourite flayer, had taken on the torture and left the remnants of the corpse for Rila. As her father nor brothers had never taught her the skill to flaying, Rila had learnt from observation and practice on the left over corpses that her father’s executioners had left for her. Over the years she had become quite good at it, though today her work was shocking. Rila placed the blade at the skin… [view original content]
Rila
She had once again found herself in the torture chambers, though rather than admiring the work, she was participating. Rila held her… more dagger with a steady hand, in front of her was a cold corpse that was once a Bolton soldier. A traitor, Rila thought to herself with amusement. The man had been found sending the layout of the Dreadfort to a man named Norrhen Cassel, though had fortunately been stopped before sending the ravens. Rila’s father, the Red King of the Dreadfort, had ordered the man to be flayed to give his secrets. Skinner, her father’s favourite flayer, had taken on the torture and left the remnants of the corpse for Rila. As her father nor brothers had never taught her the skill to flaying, Rila had learnt from observation and practice on the left over corpses that her father’s executioners had left for her. Over the years she had become quite good at it, though today her work was shocking. Rila placed the blade at the skin… [view original content]
I already see I will be in minority, but still - I'd give it a try, Harlaw's forces would power the Jared's army to a great excent. I don't know if he should trust them, so maybe it's good that the another choice is winning here.
Jared could hear the beating of drums. The Harlaw removed his primary defense and freed his axe, charging at Jared with his final effort. Ja… morered rolled, dodging the blow, though managed to gash the man’s leg as he passed. Jared turned to examine the damage, the Harlaw was still standing though his free hand was covering his upper thigh. Jared grinned and licked his lips, walking towards the weakening man. He swung his axe down at his shoulder, though to his surprise the old man caught Jared’s arm and swung the blunt end of his axe into Jared’s cheek. Jared stumbled back, putting his to his newly throbbing left cheekbone. He removed his hand, and sure enough there was blood. Jared turned to see the Harlaw running towards him with his axe in the air. Naturally, Jared lifted his shield arm to deflect the blow, though when he realised he had ditched the shield it was too late. The axe smashed against his iron vambrace, lodging into the metal. Jare… [view original content]
Well, I quite agree with Liquid here - I'm also rooting for Starks, but I want to see what can she do in Highpoint. She will be useful here, giving Boltons the advantage, so decreasing the chances of Starks, but we can't predict what happens. Maybe, in some wicked way, Rila's presence in Hightpoint will, i don't know, make a little conflict so Whitehills will stop being an ally to Bolton's which would be very in Stark's favor. Anyways, now I'm going for Highpoint option, we'll see if it pays off.
Rila
She had once again found herself in the torture chambers, though rather than admiring the work, she was participating. Rila held her… more dagger with a steady hand, in front of her was a cold corpse that was once a Bolton soldier. A traitor, Rila thought to herself with amusement. The man had been found sending the layout of the Dreadfort to a man named Norrhen Cassel, though had fortunately been stopped before sending the ravens. Rila’s father, the Red King of the Dreadfort, had ordered the man to be flayed to give his secrets. Skinner, her father’s favourite flayer, had taken on the torture and left the remnants of the corpse for Rila. As her father nor brothers had never taught her the skill to flaying, Rila had learnt from observation and practice on the left over corpses that her father’s executioners had left for her. Over the years she had become quite good at it, though today her work was shocking. Rila placed the blade at the skin… [view original content]
Julie’s legs shook beneath her like one who was first to walk on ice. She leant on her spear to help her keep her balance, though if she did not sit soon she would surely fall. She turned to Skagard, who rested with his eyes closed.
“I’m going to talk to the brothers.” Skagard lifted his head, raising an eyebrow, then shrugged.
“As you say Julie, now let me rest.” Julie took in a breath of cold air, her teeth clattering against each other as a shiver went down her spine.
She turned and started heading towards where one of the brother’s sat, whether is was Gendel or Gorne she did not know. Each step for Julie was agonising, sending jolts of pain through her thighs which made her want to fall to the ground and scream. Yet she still pushed on, knowing she was stronger. She had survived where Thenns had fallen, Thenns who were deemed stronger than she could ever be. If I could survive the tunnels, I can survive this walk. She repeated to herself over and over, until she was finally behind the dweller. She lowered herself down to the cold stone ground, which was covered in crushed bones and weeds. In front of the two was the large waterfall that poured down the Gorge. Even from the distance they were away, she could still feel the light spray of water slowly starting to dampen her clothing. She turned to the brother that she had sat next to, and recognised him to be Gorne. She sighed and turned back to the falling water.
“Not the brother you wanted to see?” Gendel asked, flipping the bronze coin. It was around the size of Julie’s palm, and in the centre was a mangled bronze corpse. She shook her head.
“Where is Gendel?” Gorne nodded to the waterfall.
“Speaking with the gods.” Julie raised an eyebrow.
“The gods? What gods?” Julie was highly confused, she felt like Gorne to spoke in riddles.
“Our gods, the gods that showed me the way. Gorne’s Way, the salvation to the Freefolk.” The sound coming from Julie was in between a grunt and a sigh, she rested her face in her hands.
“Whatever you say, Cave Dweller.” As the words left her mouth, Gorne caught the coin from the air and stood, looking down on her.
“You came to me for a reason, what do you want?” Julie looked up to Gorne, squinting her eyes at the cloudy sky behind him.
“I wanted to speak to Gendel. To understand what is bloody going on.” Gorne mockingly smiled.
“Stand up, Julie of the Ice Rivers.” Julie grunted and grabbed her spear, slowly helping herself up. As she did, Gorne had pulled out some sort of crystal and crushed it in his hands.
“What’s that?” Gorne ignored her and finished crushing all the tiny crystal formations. As she watched him finish, she felt like she had seen visions of her family back at the Ice Rivers. She shook her head and the memory.
“You want to understand? Inhale.” Gorne lifted his cupped hands to Julie’s face, who instantly stepped back.
“Tell me what that is. Now.” Gorne smiled and took a step towards her.
“Inhale, and you will know.” Julie stood her ground as the painted cupped white hands approached her face. She breathed.
-
Julie found herself soaring through the sky, like a bird of a sort. She looked at her surroundings. She flew over a Nightrunner and old man of the Night’s Watch. She did not know how, but she knew that the girl beneath her was a Nightrunner. She wore white fur, and her hair was like a burning fire. As Julie flew closer to examine her further, a hawk flew as her a clawed at one of her wings. Julie retreated.
Julie then found herself flying over the Frostfangs, she could see the Ice River Clans beneath her. The stone and bone made homes, roofed with scavenged wood or rare thatch. Julie dived down, weaving in between the homes and darting towards the stone court where her father stood. The clan leader, Dogrim, spoke with her father: Narrik. Though as she flew closer she saw her father’s throat being slit by bronze daggers. Afraid, Julie flew up, now finding herself in the Vale of Thenn. The peaceful mountains juxtapositioned the stone halls of the Magnar. Julie swooped down and saw the Thenn’s wearing their bronze armour, almost like they were preparing for war. Though they were not heading south, though north. Julie flew as far as north could take her, to the lands of always winter. She stopped and soared over the thick snow, watching as the Thenn’s traversed it in their snow shoes. Julie hovered for awhile, allowed the clear sun to beam down on her and fight against the cold and snow, though the sun had little power here.
As Julie was about to turn back and fly elsewhere, she heard the sound of a loud screech, like scratching into ice. She turned around and saw a collection of ice shards and snow flying towards her, all held together by some blue entity. As she tried to fly away, passing the Thenn’s she turned around. The Thenn’s had secured a battle position, though as the entity - which could only be described as an ice storm or blizzard - swept passed. Those that were left in its wake were shredded to pieces. As the blizzard passed under her, and began heading south, Julie watched the mass army behind it. Creatures of ice followed in its trail. Deformed creatures with shards of ice spiking out of them, running on all fours with no fur but instead skin. Men secured in frozen ice, standing ten feet tall and as strong as a mountain. Smaller blizzards, and frozen creatures as small as ants followed. As Julie turned around to flee, she was consumed.
-
Julie awoke to a thundering sound of water crashing on stone, she opened her eyes and found herself looking at a wall of water. Is this still a dream? She backed away and bumped into something that moved, she turned and saw it to be Gorne. Julie reached for her spear, though panicked when it was not on her back. Gorne slowly approached towards her.
“Get away from me!” Julie screamed, though could barely even hear her words from the thundering sound beside her. Gorne helped her up, to her surprise her legs were no longer shaking, or even sore.
“Follow me.” He yelled, which Julie could only just hear.
Gorne entered a thin crack in the stone opposite the thundering wall of water, and disappeared into a deep darkness. Julie hesitated, looking for another way to escape, though found nothing. She entered the small crack in the stone wall, which she had to enter on her side. She travelled the narrow pathway for what felt like forever in the darkness, though when she had reached the other side she found Gorne standing beside his brother Gendel. Gendel widened his eyes in shock.
“Julie, what are you doing here?” Julie looked as confused and afraid as Gendel. Fortunately Gorne stepped in for her.
“I showed her what was to come. She knows.” Julie rubbed her head, her ears still ringing from the thundering sound she had finally escaped.
“That was all real? Everything I saw?” Gendel allowed her to fall into his arms, exhausted and dehydrated.
“Here, drink this.” Julie pushed the cup away, afraid it would be some other sort of drug to disorientate her.
“I don’t want anything else that you have to give me.” Gendel turned to Gorne with a scowl on his expression, Gorne shrugged. Gendel passed the wooden cup back to Gorne.
“She needs water, please?” Gorne nodded and took the cup. Gendel turned back to Julie. “Are you alright? Once you get some fluids into you, I assure you your head will stop spinning.” Julie shook her head, everything was dizzy.
“I need to sit down.” Gendel nodded, and rested her against the surprisingly warm stone wall. Perhaps it was a part of her imagination.
“Those crystals Gorne gave you, he shouldn’t have done it. We cave dwellers spend years just to take small doses of it, and he gave you an entire shard! I’m surprised you’re even still alive.” Julie rested her head against the wall and touched her nose, when she wiped what she thought to be the runs away, she found it to be blood.
“Gendel, what was all that?” Gendel frowned, turning to see Gorne behind him. Gorne passed him the cup.
“We will speak of it once you are fully recovered, here. Drink.” Julie hesitated, though submitted to the Cave Dweller’s will for a second time. Darkness clouded her vision.
-
More disturbing visions had appeared in her dreams, though when she awoke she felt stronger than she had this entire journey. She sat herself up, finding Gendel and Gorne speaking to each other. She cleared her throat, and the two cave dwellers turned around.
“Julie! How are you feeling?” Gendel asked with that wide smile of his. Julie shrugged.
“Better. Now can you explain to me what I saw?” Gendel nodded, helping her off the ground. Julie felt odd, her legs were different. It was like they were someone else’s.
Julie was guided by Gendel to a natural stone pillar, in it was a frozen pool of water with visions dancing in the reflection. When Julie looked closer, the noticed it was the same as she had seen.
“Was this all real?” Gendel shrugged his shoulders.
“It’s hard to tell, some of these visions were highly random. Though we are certain that the Great Ice Wraith and it’s frozen army are real. Whether the Thenn’s are trying to fight it, once again I do not know.” Julie shook her head, once again confused.
“Great Ice Wraith? Frozen army?” Gendel rested his hand on her shoulder.
“It is a lot to take in, I know. This is what the Others have shown us, we don’t know why. Though we know we have the chance to get south of the Wall, and that’s a chance we must take.” Gorne followed up Gendel’s conclusion.
“The Blizzard is coming, that is what the Others have called this horrific creature. With it, an army that would ice over the entire continent. It does not feed, it dominates and conquers. We have to unite the Freefolk and flee south before it is too late.” Gendel nodded in agreement.
“We should be able to easily unite the Thenn’s to our cause, if Maror stays true to his word. We could use your help in uniting the Ice River Clans.” Julie shook her head.
“The Ice Rivers won’t follow a king, they barely even follow each other. That’s why I left.” Gorne sighed.
“We still have to try. They might be persuaded if one of their own is by their side. We also want to bring one of Maror’s Thenn’s. He has agreed that he will allow one for us to choose. If you agree to come with us, we could use your recommendation.” Julie felt a rush of panic roll over her.
To leave the Manglers would be like leaving home again. Though would Maror still want me here? Remember what he did to Baedol? Julie calmed herself down and buried her hands into her head.
“I don’t know.” She said, her words muffled into her frozen hands. “I don’t know if I am still wanted here, I’m afraid to leave. Yet I’m afraid to stay.” Gendel nodded.
“We will let you decide. We have been looking to take either Lokran or Skagard with us to the Vale of Thenn.” Gorne added onto Gendel’s sentence.
“Both are suitable choices, though you have known them longer. We would like your input, if we may?” Julie lifted her head from her hands. She had to be strong, stand for herself for once.
Choice 1: [Join Gendel and Gorne] [Stay with the Manglers]
For the first time in since Kaiden’s capture, he was cold. His ripped clothing and rags supplied little warmth, though something else sent a shiver through his bones. Kaiden quietly sat behind the two logs he had tried to catch a rat in, trying to stay as hidden as possible. The footsteps approaching him grew louder and closer, and for a moment he wished he had started running. Kaiden slowed down his breathing, trying to stay as silent as possible. He heard the footsteps stop opposite of the log he had his back to, the sound of a weapon being unsheathed made Kaiden clench his hands scarred and burned hands into fists, or he tried to. His hands had little movement left, though he used the ground to help shut them.
“Rux, you see anything?” Called the same voice, which Kaiden had heard others call Ratter.
“No, must’ve been the wind.” Ratter let out a mocking laugh, adding more shivers down Kaiden’s frozen spine.
“You fucking coward. Come on, I want to get back to the village and eat.” Kaiden heard the man on the other side of the log sheath his weapon, and turn around. Kaiden had kept his legs close to him, though a muscle spasm caused him to have to straighten his leg. Kaiden tried to calm his leg, though as he did he grunted in pain.
“What was that?” Kaiden heard the footsteps heading back towards him, this time walking past the log.
Kaiden looked up at the bald headed wildling, his face chubby and afraid. Kaiden must of matched that fear, because he screamed like a madman. The wildling turned, just as terrified and unsheathed his shortsword.Kaiden ran past the man trying to escape for his life, the wildling dropped his sword and ran in fear. Kaiden felt his legs starting to fail him, and as one muscle pulled another and something twinged, Kaiden found himself in agony on the ground. He started crawling, heading for the route he had decided on earlier. His faulty hands failed to grip the stones beneath him, forcing him to use his forearms to drag himself along. Kaiden may have made it only two metres before he felt a force push him down, a foot standing on him.
“You’re as weak as piss, Rux. It’s only a-” Kaiden was rolled over, facing an entire group of more barefoot freaks. “What the fuck are you?” Kaiden felt a surge of inconsistent beats in his chest.
Kaiden looked up to the gaunt ugly man. His eyes were small and beady, his nose long and large. His hair was receding, and his two buck teeth pointed out of his mouth - making him have distinctions of a rat.
“Bind him. I’m this is one of Krumm’s little burned boys.” Kaiden saw the men come in from behind Ratter with rope and bind it around Kaiden’s legs.
As they were getting to his hands, Kaiden noticed Rux had picked up his sword, though something else had put fear into his eyes. Before Ratter knew it, the same beast that Kaiden had encountered earlier had lunged at him and knocked him to the ground. The men atop of Kaiden dropped the bindings and drew their weapons, being rusted maces and swords or iron axes, anything they had they aimed at the beast. Kaiden turned onto his stomach and continued crawling, trying to get as far away as he could. When Kaiden looked up, he saw an arrow soar over his head. When he turned, he saw one of the barefoot men fall to the ground. Then another, hit in the thigh and finished by the beast. After the third arrow, which pierced Rux in the neck, the men started running. The beast chased after them with a deathly howl, and soon all was quiet. Kaiden had reached the trunk of a sentinel tree, where he had propped up his back. He overlooked the mayhem that had passed in under a minute. Five men dead, the rest scrambled. What the hell was that? Kaiden reached around for something sharp to help sever or loosen the bindings around his ankles. Finally, he secured his hands around a broken stick. Not ideal, but it’ll do. Kaiden started trying to slice through the thick binds, though to his disappointment it was little use. He then tried to loosen the tight bounds by jamming his stick in between the ropes and his ankle, though the weakness in his hands barely even permitted for him to hold the stick. Grunting, Kaiden threw away the stick and searched for a rock. After a small amount of effort, Kaiden finally spotted one and dragged it towards him with his tired hands. As he adjusted a firm grip on it, he heard the sound of a bowstring being pulled back. He slowly looked up, and saw a woman with a loaded bow aiming an arrow to his head.
“Drop.” She said, like it was a foreign word. She said it aggressively, like she wanted it out of her mouth.
Kaiden did as she said, and released the rock from his hands. He watched as the woman released the tension on her bow string. Kaiden examined the woman, there was some beauty to her. Her hair was black and long with curls, and her skin was as pale as the snow he sat in. Her eyes unique, one being as blue as the sky and the other as brown as dirt. Kaiden would have considered her an innocent young woman, though the way she looked at him perceived her as dangerous - murderous even. Kaiden could do little but watch as she placed her arrow back in her fur quiver and slung her bow over her back. She walked over to Kaiden and knelt down by his feet, pulling a bronze dagger from her boot. She pointed it at him, making fear surge through his heart and appear on his face.
“Please, don’t hurt me. I don’t want to die, please!” Kaiden started shaking, trying to avoid being cut by this ferocious woman.
He heard her yell at him in some foreign language, and he only stopped when the blade rested at his throat. She repeated a foreign word silently, then moved down to Kaiden’s ankles and cut the bindings. She backed away, allowing Kaiden some space to use to help him stand. One Kaiden was on his feet, the once tall and terrifying woman now stood a head below him when standing straight, though his injuries hunched him. Kaiden felt his head starting to spin, he had stood up too fast and his lack of hydration had gotten to his head. He saw his vision starting to black out, he reached for something to guide himself, though fell nonetheless.
-
The heat returned into Kaiden’s skin, warming his bones and burning his flesh. He opened his one eyelid and saw that the sky was dark. He rolled over to find a small campfire with one leg of rabbit remaining on a stick hovering over the flames. Opposite the fire, sat the woman who had saved his life. He grabbed the meat and sunk his teeth into it, the rough meat finally gave way after Kaiden’s third attempt. The cooked juices fill his mouth, pooling at the bottom of his jaw. Kaiden swallowed the meat and took another bite. He noticed the woman opposite him smiling. Once he had finished the leg, he chucked the bone into the fire and tried to sit straight. Thinking of something to say, there was only one thing he could think of.
“Thank you, for saving my life.” The woman nodded, though he was not sure if she understood. He sighed, trying something else. “What is your name?” The woman looked at him with confusion in her unmatching eyes.
“N-name?” She said, as if trying to spell it out. Kaiden nodded, placing his hands on his chest.
“Yes, I am Kaiden. Son of Jorge, a farmer at Skane. Who are you?” The woman looked at Kaiden with confusion, and perhaps stupidity. He sighed and pointed to himself. “Kaiden.” Then pointed to her.
The woman looked at herself, as if trying to find something, then back to Kaiden. Finally, something had clicked. She clenched her hand into a fist and placed it over her heart.
“Aia.” Kaiden had nearly missed the name, he was shocked that she finally understood.
“Aia?” The woman nodded and repeated her name. Kaiden stood up and walked over to her, extending his hand. She looked at Kaiden’s hand, then his eyes.
“Fire Thenn.” She said, caressing Kaiden’s hand. He pulled his hand away, ashamed. She sighed and pointed off to the distance. Kaiden turned and looked, sure enough it was the Wall. “Home.” She quietly said, then stood up and grabbed her bow.
“Where are you going?” Kaiden asked, now confused and worried. She turned and pointed north, then to her chest.
“Home.” She then pointed to Kaiden, then north. As if to ask him to accompany her.
Kaiden turned back to the Wall, then to Aia. Would the Watch even recognise me anymore? He did not want to be realistic with himself, the Night’s Watch was his home. It had been for many years, yet they had locked him in rooms overnight to keep him at bay, even if it hadn’t worked. Yet he longed to see his friend, Brett, and Tristifer. He turned and sighed. Perhaps that life is now lost, maybe my best option is with her. He looked at her with saddened eyes, this girl had saved his life, she would not wait forever.
Kaiden
For the first time in since Kaiden’s capture, he was cold. His ripped clothing and rags supplied little warmth, though something e… morelse sent a shiver through his bones. Kaiden quietly sat behind the two logs he had tried to catch a rat in, trying to stay as hidden as possible. The footsteps approaching him grew louder and closer, and for a moment he wished he had started running. Kaiden slowed down his breathing, trying to stay as silent as possible. He heard the footsteps stop opposite of the log he had his back to, the sound of a weapon being unsheathed made Kaiden clench his hands scarred and burned hands into fists, or he tried to. His hands had little movement left, though he used the ground to help shut them.
“Rux, you see anything?” Called the same voice, which Kaiden had heard others call Ratter.
“No, must’ve been the wind.” Ratter let out a mocking laugh, adding more shivers down Kaiden’s frozen spine.
“You fucking c… [view original content]
Julie
Julie’s legs shook beneath her like one who was first to walk on ice. She leant on her spear to help her keep her balance, though i… moref she did not sit soon she would surely fall. She turned to Skagard, who rested with his eyes closed.
“I’m going to talk to the brothers.” Skagard lifted his head, raising an eyebrow, then shrugged.
“As you say Julie, now let me rest.” Julie took in a breath of cold air, her teeth clattering against each other as a shiver went down her spine.
She turned and started heading towards where one of the brother’s sat, whether is was Gendel or Gorne she did not know. Each step for Julie was agonising, sending jolts of pain through her thighs which made her want to fall to the ground and scream. Yet she still pushed on, knowing she was stronger. She had survived where Thenns had fallen, Thenns who were deemed stronger than she could ever be. If I could survive the tunnels, I can survive this walk. She re… [view original content]
Wow, this was an awesome part, with Julie's vision and all! This Great Ice Wraith is pretty intriguing and now, a lot of things make more sense. I guess this is the being the Stranger is fleeing from. And Julie should definitely go with Gendel and Gorne. She might be useful in persuading the Ice Rivers to follow. Also, this is definitely going to be very interesting.
[Recommend Skagard]
I see both as capable for this mission and would like to give both of them the chance to shine. However, since I have to choose, I'm just going to agree with Mathea. Could go both ways with Skagard, but with Lokran as well, I guess.
Julie
Julie’s legs shook beneath her like one who was first to walk on ice. She leant on her spear to help her keep her balance, though i… moref she did not sit soon she would surely fall. She turned to Skagard, who rested with his eyes closed.
“I’m going to talk to the brothers.” Skagard lifted his head, raising an eyebrow, then shrugged.
“As you say Julie, now let me rest.” Julie took in a breath of cold air, her teeth clattering against each other as a shiver went down her spine.
She turned and started heading towards where one of the brother’s sat, whether is was Gendel or Gorne she did not know. Each step for Julie was agonising, sending jolts of pain through her thighs which made her want to fall to the ground and scream. Yet she still pushed on, knowing she was stronger. She had survived where Thenns had fallen, Thenns who were deemed stronger than she could ever be. If I could survive the tunnels, I can survive this walk. She re… [view original content]
Personally, I feel like returning to the Wall would be a good choice for Kaiden if he makes it. However, I highly doubt that he, with his wounds, is going to make it all alone. He barely made it to where Aia found him and without her, he'd be dead for sure. I guess there are far more dangerous things out there, including stuff like this strange beast that just attacked his captors. On his own, he stands no chance. Therefore, going with Aia means that he stays alive, which is a good thing.
Kaiden
For the first time in since Kaiden’s capture, he was cold. His ripped clothing and rags supplied little warmth, though something e… morelse sent a shiver through his bones. Kaiden quietly sat behind the two logs he had tried to catch a rat in, trying to stay as hidden as possible. The footsteps approaching him grew louder and closer, and for a moment he wished he had started running. Kaiden slowed down his breathing, trying to stay as silent as possible. He heard the footsteps stop opposite of the log he had his back to, the sound of a weapon being unsheathed made Kaiden clench his hands scarred and burned hands into fists, or he tried to. His hands had little movement left, though he used the ground to help shut them.
“Rux, you see anything?” Called the same voice, which Kaiden had heard others call Ratter.
“No, must’ve been the wind.” Ratter let out a mocking laugh, adding more shivers down Kaiden’s frozen spine.
“You fucking c… [view original content]
Julie
Julie’s legs shook beneath her like one who was first to walk on ice. She leant on her spear to help her keep her balance, though i… moref she did not sit soon she would surely fall. She turned to Skagard, who rested with his eyes closed.
“I’m going to talk to the brothers.” Skagard lifted his head, raising an eyebrow, then shrugged.
“As you say Julie, now let me rest.” Julie took in a breath of cold air, her teeth clattering against each other as a shiver went down her spine.
She turned and started heading towards where one of the brother’s sat, whether is was Gendel or Gorne she did not know. Each step for Julie was agonising, sending jolts of pain through her thighs which made her want to fall to the ground and scream. Yet she still pushed on, knowing she was stronger. She had survived where Thenns had fallen, Thenns who were deemed stronger than she could ever be. If I could survive the tunnels, I can survive this walk. She re… [view original content]
Kaiden
For the first time in since Kaiden’s capture, he was cold. His ripped clothing and rags supplied little warmth, though something e… morelse sent a shiver through his bones. Kaiden quietly sat behind the two logs he had tried to catch a rat in, trying to stay as hidden as possible. The footsteps approaching him grew louder and closer, and for a moment he wished he had started running. Kaiden slowed down his breathing, trying to stay as silent as possible. He heard the footsteps stop opposite of the log he had his back to, the sound of a weapon being unsheathed made Kaiden clench his hands scarred and burned hands into fists, or he tried to. His hands had little movement left, though he used the ground to help shut them.
“Rux, you see anything?” Called the same voice, which Kaiden had heard others call Ratter.
“No, must’ve been the wind.” Ratter let out a mocking laugh, adding more shivers down Kaiden’s frozen spine.
“You fucking c… [view original content]
Julie
Julie’s legs shook beneath her like one who was first to walk on ice. She leant on her spear to help her keep her balance, though i… moref she did not sit soon she would surely fall. She turned to Skagard, who rested with his eyes closed.
“I’m going to talk to the brothers.” Skagard lifted his head, raising an eyebrow, then shrugged.
“As you say Julie, now let me rest.” Julie took in a breath of cold air, her teeth clattering against each other as a shiver went down her spine.
She turned and started heading towards where one of the brother’s sat, whether is was Gendel or Gorne she did not know. Each step for Julie was agonising, sending jolts of pain through her thighs which made her want to fall to the ground and scream. Yet she still pushed on, knowing she was stronger. She had survived where Thenns had fallen, Thenns who were deemed stronger than she could ever be. If I could survive the tunnels, I can survive this walk. She re… [view original content]
Jared could hear the beating of drums. The Harlaw removed his primary defense and freed his axe, charging at Jared with his final effort. Ja… morered rolled, dodging the blow, though managed to gash the man’s leg as he passed. Jared turned to examine the damage, the Harlaw was still standing though his free hand was covering his upper thigh. Jared grinned and licked his lips, walking towards the weakening man. He swung his axe down at his shoulder, though to his surprise the old man caught Jared’s arm and swung the blunt end of his axe into Jared’s cheek. Jared stumbled back, putting his to his newly throbbing left cheekbone. He removed his hand, and sure enough there was blood. Jared turned to see the Harlaw running towards him with his axe in the air. Naturally, Jared lifted his shield arm to deflect the blow, though when he realised he had ditched the shield it was too late. The axe smashed against his iron vambrace, lodging into the metal. Jare… [view original content]
[Go to Highpoint] Like everyone ,i'm with the starks , but i just love the interactions with her brother ,it's kinda original for the boltons and i love it !
Rila
She had once again found herself in the torture chambers, though rather than admiring the work, she was participating. Rila held her… more dagger with a steady hand, in front of her was a cold corpse that was once a Bolton soldier. A traitor, Rila thought to herself with amusement. The man had been found sending the layout of the Dreadfort to a man named Norrhen Cassel, though had fortunately been stopped before sending the ravens. Rila’s father, the Red King of the Dreadfort, had ordered the man to be flayed to give his secrets. Skinner, her father’s favourite flayer, had taken on the torture and left the remnants of the corpse for Rila. As her father nor brothers had never taught her the skill to flaying, Rila had learnt from observation and practice on the left over corpses that her father’s executioners had left for her. Over the years she had become quite good at it, though today her work was shocking. Rila placed the blade at the skin… [view original content]
Julie
Julie’s legs shook beneath her like one who was first to walk on ice. She leant on her spear to help her keep her balance, though i… moref she did not sit soon she would surely fall. She turned to Skagard, who rested with his eyes closed.
“I’m going to talk to the brothers.” Skagard lifted his head, raising an eyebrow, then shrugged.
“As you say Julie, now let me rest.” Julie took in a breath of cold air, her teeth clattering against each other as a shiver went down her spine.
She turned and started heading towards where one of the brother’s sat, whether is was Gendel or Gorne she did not know. Each step for Julie was agonising, sending jolts of pain through her thighs which made her want to fall to the ground and scream. Yet she still pushed on, knowing she was stronger. She had survived where Thenns had fallen, Thenns who were deemed stronger than she could ever be. If I could survive the tunnels, I can survive this walk. She re… [view original content]
Staying north of the wall won't help him , even more with what's coming .It may be hard to reach it but it'll much harder later on if he stays with that girl north of it .
Alright, well I will close this vote. Jared will finish off Lord Harren Harlaw.
This was perhaps a bit more of an important vote because it swings both ways. There will be some men that won't follow Jared because he killed their leader, there would be some men that wouldn't follow him if he hadn't because it would have made him look weak, and there will be some men that won't follow regardless. Personally, I think this is the best choice.
Jared could hear the beating of drums. The Harlaw removed his primary defense and freed his axe, charging at Jared with his final effort. Ja… morered rolled, dodging the blow, though managed to gash the man’s leg as he passed. Jared turned to examine the damage, the Harlaw was still standing though his free hand was covering his upper thigh. Jared grinned and licked his lips, walking towards the weakening man. He swung his axe down at his shoulder, though to his surprise the old man caught Jared’s arm and swung the blunt end of his axe into Jared’s cheek. Jared stumbled back, putting his to his newly throbbing left cheekbone. He removed his hand, and sure enough there was blood. Jared turned to see the Harlaw running towards him with his axe in the air. Naturally, Jared lifted his shield arm to deflect the blow, though when he realised he had ditched the shield it was too late. The axe smashed against his iron vambrace, lodging into the metal. Jare… [view original content]
Alright, well this vote has to be closed. Rila will choose to go to Highpoint.
Should be interesting to say the least. Her tactics and diplomic values may be of use, though the Whitehill's may not respect a female Bolton as much as someone like Jory. At any rate, I must be one of those dark people that prefers the Bolton's over Starks, Ironborn over Rivermen, Ice River Clans over Thenns, people. I was honestly hoping your love for the Starks would send her to the Frost Keep, it would have been nice to have seen the Frost's and for Rila to had a stronger connection with Donnor. For another time perhaps.
[Go to the Frost Keep]
God, Rila is such a psycho. A Bolton to the core and so damn creepy. There's something about her that is really un… moresettling. With this choice, I was torn, as neither options have particularly good arguments that totally convince me in favour of one of them. Since I still have to choose, I chose the Frost Keep. On the one hand, I kinda enjoyed Rila's interaction with Jory. For a family that is rather known for hating each other almost as much as they hate the rest of the world, this was a nice touch. On the other hand, Rila can be useful at Highpoint. In this war, I root for the Starks, so I don't want her to be useful.
Banners of the allied houses blew in the soft wind that came from the North. Ian sat in his tent behind a makeshift desk. In front of him stood the lords of the houses that had sided with the Stark army. On the far left stood Lord Barton Mormont, a robust and serious man, who carried his house with pride and honour. He wore plated armour with the tabard of his house, and wielded a giant one sided battle axe. His face was nearly always stern and showed little emotion, though his deep blue eyes told a man everything he needed to know. Beside him stood Lady Trysta Glover, who wore a mixture of plated and padded armour - her tabard displayed the iron gauntlet of House Glover. For her age, she was strikingly beautiful. Her messy brown hair was tied back into a ponytail, and her dark brown eyes showed integrity and placidity. Next to her stood Lord Barrock Tallhart, then Lord Donovan Umber and Prince Brandon Stark. Ian bowed his head and muttered a prayer to the Seven, then stood up.
“I’ve called you all to discuss the matter with the Dustin’s. I have decided that we will call on their aid, though I am open to suggestions on how to gain such an alliance.” As Ian suspected, there was a lot of disagreement and bickering among the lords and lady.
“Fuck the Dustin’s. We can do this without them, General.” Ian heard a touch of mockery in Lord Donovan’s words, as he was to expect being his general.
“We can’t win this war without allies, Umber.” Lord Bartan said with a deep and calm tone. Donovan chuckled.
“Aye, says the Mormont who can barely even protect his shores. Perhaps they should have made your wife the head of Bear Island, gods know the woman do all the work there. Pretty too.” Ian could have sworn Mormont would have hit the man if Trysta had not intervened.
“Shut your mouth, Umber. You want to fuck with the Bear, fuck with him once we finish this war.” As she spoke, she grabbed the Barton’s wrist, who’s hand was clenched into a fist. Lord Barrock nodded.
“On to the task at hand… We could secure an alliance with an a trade of a sort.” He turned to Lady Trysta. “Perhaps the Forresters could submit some of their ironwood forest?” Trysta shook her head.
“Not fucking likely. Those bloody Whitehill’s are acting shady again, Ironrath had gone into a lockdown.” Ian Morland sighed.
“Any other ideas?” Ian asked, Lord Donovan stood forward.
“The son of the King of Winter is with us. As the Dustin’s live in the north it is their duty to serve the king’s justice.” Ian shook his head.
“No, they never pledge their vows. Nor did the Ryswell’s.” Ian turned to Barrock. “Or the Tallhart’s at that.” Lord Barrock nodded in thanks for acknowledgement.
“What if we offered them more land?” Lord Barton suggested, though the idea was squandered beneath Lord Donovan’s grunt.
“The bastards have an entire Barrow of land!” Lord Donovan spat. “Greedy fuckers.” Lord Barton turned to Lord Donovan.
“Aye, they have a barrow. You can’t expect them to build on a burial ground, Lord Donovan.” The Umber shrugged. Trysta spoke up.
“What if we pay them in gold?” Ian shook his head.
“The majority of the Stark gold is being funded into weaponry and sellswords, and Lord Umber is sending his to Skane.” Donovan nodded with a grin wide across his face. “I mean no disrespect my lady, though I cannot see you nor Bear Island being able to find enough coin to buy a quarter of their land, little-own an entire army.” Trysta frowned, Lord Barton’s face reddened with either anger or embarrassment.
“Then why don’t we give them what they want?” It had been the first time Brandon had spoken in their small council meetings, his voice was strong and firm. Ian raised an eyebrow.
“What do you mean?” Brandon sighed, remembering Ian was a southerner.
“Hundreds of years ago, the Kings of Winter sacked every kingdom in the north to become the one ruling kingdom. During the Andal Invasion, the Dustin’s were young but grew to be one of the strongest kingdoms of the north. Give them back their kingdom, become allies.” Lord Donovan looked bewildered, Lord Barrock’s face reddened with anger.
“We can’t just give them a fucking kingdom!” Lord Barrock blurted, Lord Donovan nodded in agreement.
“Aye, we’re having this war to destroy an uprising kingdom, not make one.” Brandon sighed, clearly not seeing any point to argue, though Ian had been left with an idea.
“Very well, we will meet with the King had try to previous suggestions. Perhaps we can pay them the gold once we get it back.” The men and woman in front of him gently nodded, not seeing many other options.
“Shall we send a raven?” Brandon asked, standing with all his weight on one leg. Ian shook his head.
“No, we’ve camped on Lord Errald Dustin’s lands. We will meet him in person. Lord Donovan, you clearly look bored standing around and speaking politics. Take your men and ride for Wolf’s Den, inform the Greystark’s that we will require their assistance when we lay siege on Moat Cailin. No doubt once you have rallied them we will be on our way there.” Lord Donovan smirked, like Ian had read his mind.
“As you say, General.” He nodded and left the tent. Ian turned to Barton.
“Lord Barton. I would ask that your brother, Jorun, would accompany me to Barrowton. If you would find him and anymore suitable men to act as an escort guard.” Lord Barton stared Ian in the eyes, though obeyed his orders after a long uneasy moment. Lord Barrock stood forward, his hands clasped behind his back.
“What would you have me do, General Morland?” Ian rested his arms on his desk.
“You know Lord Errald better than any of us, I would have you join me.” Ian turned to Brandon. “And your grace as well, if it would suit.” Brandon nodded, Lady Trysta crossed her arms.
“Forgotten about your favourite woman, General?” Ian smiled and shook his head.
“No, my lady. You will hold this outpost until we return. If we don’t in the next three hours, you have the King’s permission to lay siege on Barrowton.” Lady Trysta raised her eyebrows.
“I see why King Benjen made a southerner the general of his army. Quite the sweet talker, aren’t you?” Before Ian had a chance to reply, Trysta was already out of the tent. He sighed and turned to Brandon and Lord Barrock.
“You have thirty minutes to get everything you need, then we ride for Barrowton.” The two men nodded and left the tent, leaving Ian alone.
Ian groaned and reclined in his wooden chair, resting his eyes for a moment.
-
The sky was calm and clear, displaying a bright blue that looked as if Ian were staring into the sea. The weather was odd for the Stormlands, often the sky was cloud covered and regular with storms and showers, though this day was as peaceful as it was irregular. Ian sat with his beautiful wife, relaxed and calm. Her beautiful hair fell down to her mid-waist, with mild curls. It was a light brown, which their son - Lucas - had inherited. Ian watched Lucas played in the short green grass, chasing butterflies with his friends. Everything was at it’s most beautiful, until the storm clouds rolled in from the east. Ian felt himself being pulled away from his family, watching as their screams of joy and happiness turned to screams of terror and pain.
Ian found himself in the hall of his father’s small castle, Scratch in his hand. At the end of the hall sat his father, Lord Darren Morland, whose age had taken it’s toll on him. Ian smiled, like it had been years since he had seen him, and approached him. He watched as his father stood from his seat, his arms extended to accept Ian in an embrace. As Ian approached, he watched as his father was cut down by his bastard brother, Rickard.
“NO!” Ian clenched Scratch, veins in his hand starting to burst. Rickard Storm swung his bastard sword down at Ian, who parried the attack.
“Give me that sword, brother!” Rickard yelled, anger and madness showing itself in his tone of voice. He swung his sword at Ian’s shins, at which he only just managed to deflect. He turned to his bitter half brother.
“You’re no brother of mine!” He yelled, shortly after receiving a blow to the end that knocked him down the stone steps that led to the seat his father one ruled in. Rickard descended, his bastard sword in his right hand.
“What’s the point of fighting? You’re finished. Your wife is dead, your son is dead. Our father is dead. I will have what is mine!” He swung his blade down, striking his metal against Ian’s. “I am a Morland, I am a Morland. Morland. Morland.”
-
“Morland!” Ian opened his eyes, in front of him stood Lady Trysta Glover. She sighed and walked around to his side.
“Apologies my lady, I must have rested my eyes for a while.” She nodded.
“Aye, it’s been half an hour. Lord Barrock and Brandon are waiting for you outside the camp.” Ian’s eyes widened, panic rushing over him.
Ian quickly stood from his chair, feeling his tired muscles slowly start to operate. He grabbed his cloak and Scratch, which rested against the desk, and sheathed it to his belt. When he turned to pass Trysta, she stood in his way. Ian felt her warm hands clasp his own, she stared at him with her wild and beautiful eyes. He sighed and freed his hands, watching as those enigmatic eyes became saddened and disappointed.
“I’m sorry, Lady Trysta, I just can’t.” He watched as a frown flashed across her face, though it was as quick to go as it had came. She nodded.
“I understand. Your men are waiting for you outside.” Ian nodded, avoiding eye contact. He walked passed her and to the entry of his pavilion. He turned his head back to her, though his eyes stared at the ground. He longed to say something, though the words did not come to him. He turned back and exited the tent, leaving her alone.
The sky was a moody blue, and the clouds ranging from orange to pink. The sun would set in the west soon enough, though Ian intended to be back long before that. Ian clipped the cloak onto his upper leather harness. The cloak itself was a slate blue, matching his new Stark general attire, though the pelt that covered his shoulders was dark grey.
Ian approached the men that waited outside the camp, there was a total number of seven men including Ian. Convenient. Ian thought to himself, referencing his faith. Lord Barrock Tallhart stood by his horse, beside Prince Brandon Stark. Beside Brandon stood Commander Wulfric Cale, head of King Benjen’s kingsguard and tasked with the protection of the prince. Next to Commander Wulfric stood a Stark archer, known as Casper Diamond. Casper was a young man, in his early twenties, who was not the friendliest of all men. His hair was short and auburn, which he spiked up to keep out of his slight tan green eyes. He was lean and thin, though it was apparent to Ian he had been working to change that. Beside him stood the boisterous Jorun ‘Bearclaw’ Mormont, a warm and cheery man who was known to be an excellent drinking companion. Jorun himself was a large man, who could easily crumple a man with his weight alone. He had deep blue eyes and a large black beard, over that he wore an iron helm which matched the rest of his iron armour. For weaponry he carried a sword and spear, and a shield which barely protects him though displays the sigil of his house. Finally, Ser Davos Storm, an exiled knight in service of King Durrandon.
Ian slipped on his leather gloves and mounted his horse that had been brought to him by Hendrik, his squire. Ian nodded to the boy, and turned back to the men who were to accompany him. Lord Barrock had mounted his black destrier, and Prince Brandon with his courser. Ian noticed Ser Davos was mounting a rousney, which was white with grey and black splodges. Ian cleared his throat.
“Alright, listen up. We’re heading into currently unsettled territory, so be on your guard. Casper Diamond and Ser Davos Storm are in charge or Lord Barrock’s safety, as Wulfric Cale and The Braun are in charge of Prince Brandon’s.” Ian noticed Jorun grin at the sound of his nickname. “We’ve wasted enough time, let’s ride.” The men all agreed and started their walk to Barrowton.
-
They had been under surveillance since they entered the gates of Barrowton, and were given an escort to the Barrow Hall. Now they stood outside the doors to the Barrow Hall, having a dispute with the guards.
“Your men will wait outside, Lord Errald will only see the prince, general, and Tallhart.” Commander Wulfric shook his head frustratedly.
“I swore an oath never to leave Brandon’s side, I won’t break that oath now.” The captain of the household guard shrugged.
“Then you are free to leave and take your army elsewhere.” Casper Diamond grabbed the hilt of his longsword, though Jorun Mormont grabbed the man’s forearm secretly. Ser Davos sat against a pillar, sharpening his longsword with a whetstone. As useful as I expected. Ian held up an extended open hand to Wulfric.
“It’s alright Commander, no harm will come to the prince. I’ll make sure of that.” Ian turned to the household captain. “We’ll abide to your rules.” The man smiled and beckoned for his men to open the doors.
Lord Barrock and Brandon hesitantly followed Ian into the Barrow Hall, turning back to their men who stood at the top of the wooden stairs that led to the doorway. The doors shut behind them, leaving them with no other option but to climb the short recurring series of steps which led to the seat of Lord Errald Dustin. He sat in the seat with a wolfish grin wide across his face, two of his guards stood by his side. He lifted his hands and clicked his fingers, and almost instantaneously servants came out of the doors on their left with bread and salt. The three men graciously accepted the small but generous meal, and the servants disappeared back into the room they had appeared from. Lord Errald’s grin turned to a smile.
“Welcome, to Barrowton. My lord, general and grace.” He eyed each of them up and down. “How can I assist the men who have camped their army on my lands?” Ian looked at the lord with examining eyes. He was young, perhaps only on his early twenties. Ian bowed his head.
“We have come to propose an alliance.” Ian said respectfully, and Brandon followed on.
“We are at war with the Bolton’s, and their allies. We believe with a force like yours at our side, we would surely secure an upper advantage over the Bolton’s.” Lord Errald nodded, a stern expression had shown itself to the three men.
“I see, though why would I wish to join a war which has nothing to do with me? Frankly, I’m rather disappointed with you, Lord Barrock. You knew my father far longer than any of the Starks.” Lord Barrock shook his head.
“Your father cowered behind these walls when the Stark’s called for his aid in their first war against the Bolton’s. Are you going to repeat your father’s cowardice?” Ian closed his eyes, wishing Lord Barrock had not have spoke. To his surprise, the lord took it rather well.
“If I am not mistaken, you too also hid behind your walls. Even drew your swords when the Stark’s came to propose such an alliance, I think I am much more gracious.” He said with a smile, tapping his fingers on the arm of his seat. “In any instance, the Bolton’s too requested my alliance so they could have access to the west. Though they never rode all the way just to speak to me in person.” Ian felt a shiver run down his spine. He was not aware that the Bolton’s had also tried to side with the Dustin’s. What if they have already secured an alliance? Ian felt his hand naturally gravitate to the hilt of his sword.
“And what did they offer you?” Brandon asked with curiosity, making Errald smile.
“What I wanted, to be bring the lineage of my past back to life. They would make me a Barrow King.” Brandon turned his gaze to Ian, raising his eyebrows like he intended this would happen. Ian sighed.
“My lord, I would highly suggest that declining the Bolton’s would be the wisest option.” Lord Errald turned his attention to Ian.
“Would you now. What could you give me which could beat the Bolton’s offer?” Ian felt his patience start to sap out of him. Lord Barrock spoke in Ian’s place.
“My lord, we would offer gold in return for your service to the kingdom.” Brandon also added on further.
“And more land, my lord.” Ian watched as Errald’s smiles turned to a wide grin which formed a laugh that echoed through the Barrow Hall.
“You want to buy me like a sellsword? If I needed gold, I would trade. If I needed land, I would invade.” An idea flashed through Ian’s mind.
“Well my lord, how about this. The Bolton’s have Lady Judith Stark somewhere in their cells in the Dreadfort, we intend to free her. Once the war is over, and she is safely back at Winterfell, the King will exchange her hand in marriage to you. You would be royally blood bound to the Starks, and would be given more power than you already have.” Ian saw Lord Errald raise an eyebrow to the offer.
“You have that kind of authority, to just offer his grace’s daughter to me?” Ian turned to the men beside him, Lord Barrock looked shocked, and Brandon angered. He turned back to Lord Errald.
“I lead the King’s army in his absence. All his power his bestowed to me.” Errald grinned, then nodded.
“Very well, I accept your deal, and your alliance.” Ian bowed in thanks, as did the men hesitantly beside him.
-
The seven rode back to the camp in silence, all aware of what Ian had chosen to do. When the stable boys ran to grab their steeds, Lady Trysta and Lord Barton had accompanied them. Ian dismounted his horse, not saying a word. He watched as Brandon dismounted his courser and stormed passed Lady Trysta and Lord Barton, Commander Wulfric Cale quickly following behind him. Lady Trysta turned with confused eyes.
“Brandon, what is wrong?” Brandon turned and spat at the ground.
“Ask King Ian.” He said with a menacing tone, before storming into his tent. Ian sighed and shook his head, walking over to Barton and Trysta, Barrock had joined them as well.
“What was that about?” Trysta asked with a curious yet somewhat demanding tone. Ian turned to Lord Barrock, who looked at him to explain.
“Follow me to my tent, this is a matter that needs to be talked about behind closed doors.” Ian walked passed the lords and lady towards his pavilion.
As he walked, he could hear the whispers and chatter between the three behind him, feel their gaze weigh heavily upon him. He regretted ever choosing to request the aid from the Dustin’s, it would now likely end with his head rolling on the floor, disconnected from his shoulders. Ian opened the flap to his pavilion, allowing the three to enter first. He finally entered and made sure the flap door was not going to swing open randomly. Making his way to his desk, he chose to ignore a chair and leant against the wooden table. The three stood there staring at him.
“So, are you going to explain or are we going to have to ask the Tallhart?” Barton asked, his voice deep and croaky. Ian sighed.
“Brandon was right, all the Dustins want is royalty. Turns out the Bolton’s were going to give that to them if they accepted their alliance in the war.” Lady Trysta looked at him with eyes that begged for him to continue. “So in order for us to secure an alliance, I offered Lady Judith’s hand in marriage once we rescue her.” Ian watched Barton’s jaw drop, and Trysta’s eyes widen.
“You did what?” Barton asked, clearly in disbelief. Ian nodded, Lord Barrock sighed.
“The main thing is that we now have the Dustin army, and the Umber’s will return with the Greystark’s soon enough.” Lord Barton nodded but clearly not in agreement.
“Aye, we have the bloody Dustin’s. Though at what cost?” Ian remained silent, he figured his words would not protect him now. “The King has to know about this.” Ian lifted his gaze from the floor to Lord Barton. Lady Trysta nodded in agreement.
“Better by your hand than Prince Brandon’s.” Lord Barrock grunted.
“Apologies my lady, but the boy should’ve seen it coming. He’s only angry that Ian made the arrangement and not his father.” Lady Trysta shrugged.
“Aye, but nonetheless he will tell his father unless we get a raven to him first.” Barrock shook his head.
“Or not at all. We could place the ravenry on lockdown, Brandon won’t be able to send anything then. Besides, we don’t even know if Errald will even stay true to his deal. I’ve lived on these lands long enough to know that little spoilt fuck always changes his mind.” Ian looked to Lord Barrock with curious eyes.
“You’re saying he could betray us?” Barrock shrugged.
“If his interests changed. If that were to happen, or if he were to fall in battle. Why should we worry or anger the King over something that would no longer be a bother to us?” Ian turned to Barton, who had been silent.
“Your thoughts, Lord Barton?” The man sighed.
“Apologies General, though I think it would be wrong to keep the king uninformed.” Ian nodded.
He understood how much worse the punishment would be if Errald did stay true to his deal, and if the king was unaware. Nonetheless, it was possible that Errald would indeed change his mind or even fall in battle. Ian rested his head in his hands, he still wore his dark leather gloves. I can’t risk Brandon sending a raven if I choose not to send one myself.
[Don’t send a raven - lock down the ravenry] [Send a raven]
Alright, I'll close this vote. Julie will choose to join Gendel and Gorne and will recommend Skagard to accompany them.
Personally, I think this is the best choice as it leads to a much more important story for Julie. Now she will be helping the two soon to be King's Beyond the Wall to rally and unite the Free folk, and we will no doubt see more of the Ice Rivers with her tagging along.
Julie
Julie’s legs shook beneath her like one who was first to walk on ice. She leant on her spear to help her keep her balance, though i… moref she did not sit soon she would surely fall. She turned to Skagard, who rested with his eyes closed.
“I’m going to talk to the brothers.” Skagard lifted his head, raising an eyebrow, then shrugged.
“As you say Julie, now let me rest.” Julie took in a breath of cold air, her teeth clattering against each other as a shiver went down her spine.
She turned and started heading towards where one of the brother’s sat, whether is was Gendel or Gorne she did not know. Each step for Julie was agonising, sending jolts of pain through her thighs which made her want to fall to the ground and scream. Yet she still pushed on, knowing she was stronger. She had survived where Thenns had fallen, Thenns who were deemed stronger than she could ever be. If I could survive the tunnels, I can survive this walk. She re… [view original content]
“Aye, we have the bloody Dustin’s. Though at what cost?” Ian remained silent, he figured his words would not protect him now. “The King has … moreto know about this.” Ian lifted his gaze from the floor to Lord Barton. Lady Trysta nodded in agreement.
“Better by your hand than Prince Brandon’s.” Lord Barrock grunted.
“Apologies my lady, but the boy should’ve seen it coming. He’s only angry that Ian made the arrangement and not his father.” Lady Trysta shrugged.
“Aye, but nonetheless he will tell his father unless we get a raven to him first.” Barrock shook his head.
“Or not at all. We could place the ravenry on lockdown, Brandon won’t be able to send anything then. Besides, we don’t even know if Errald will even stay true to his deal. I’ve lived on these lands long enough to know that little spoilt fuck always changes his mind.” Ian looked to Lord Barrock with curious eyes.
“You’re saying he could betray us?” Barrock shrugged.
“If … [view original content]
“Aye, we have the bloody Dustin’s. Though at what cost?” Ian remained silent, he figured his words would not protect him now. “The King has … moreto know about this.” Ian lifted his gaze from the floor to Lord Barton. Lady Trysta nodded in agreement.
“Better by your hand than Prince Brandon’s.” Lord Barrock grunted.
“Apologies my lady, but the boy should’ve seen it coming. He’s only angry that Ian made the arrangement and not his father.” Lady Trysta shrugged.
“Aye, but nonetheless he will tell his father unless we get a raven to him first.” Barrock shook his head.
“Or not at all. We could place the ravenry on lockdown, Brandon won’t be able to send anything then. Besides, we don’t even know if Errald will even stay true to his deal. I’ve lived on these lands long enough to know that little spoilt fuck always changes his mind.” Ian looked to Lord Barrock with curious eyes.
“You’re saying he could betray us?” Barrock shrugged.
“If … [view original content]
The king has to know and the king will know, sooner or later. If Ian does not tell him, Brandon will. At worst, Brandon will tell him when he sees his father the next time and it is likely that things will get even worse in such a case. Hell, I'm sure the king expects at least a raven with some message containing his progress with the Dustins, so if this raven does not arrive, he could get suspicious of Ian. At worst, he may even come to the conclusion that Ian is plotting against him, which is a more likely conclusion if Ian keeps secrets from him.
“Aye, we have the bloody Dustin’s. Though at what cost?” Ian remained silent, he figured his words would not protect him now. “The King has … moreto know about this.” Ian lifted his gaze from the floor to Lord Barton. Lady Trysta nodded in agreement.
“Better by your hand than Prince Brandon’s.” Lord Barrock grunted.
“Apologies my lady, but the boy should’ve seen it coming. He’s only angry that Ian made the arrangement and not his father.” Lady Trysta shrugged.
“Aye, but nonetheless he will tell his father unless we get a raven to him first.” Barrock shook his head.
“Or not at all. We could place the ravenry on lockdown, Brandon won’t be able to send anything then. Besides, we don’t even know if Errald will even stay true to his deal. I’ve lived on these lands long enough to know that little spoilt fuck always changes his mind.” Ian looked to Lord Barrock with curious eyes.
“You’re saying he could betray us?” Barrock shrugged.
“If … [view original content]
“Aye, we have the bloody Dustin’s. Though at what cost?” Ian remained silent, he figured his words would not protect him now. “The King has … moreto know about this.” Ian lifted his gaze from the floor to Lord Barton. Lady Trysta nodded in agreement.
“Better by your hand than Prince Brandon’s.” Lord Barrock grunted.
“Apologies my lady, but the boy should’ve seen it coming. He’s only angry that Ian made the arrangement and not his father.” Lady Trysta shrugged.
“Aye, but nonetheless he will tell his father unless we get a raven to him first.” Barrock shook his head.
“Or not at all. We could place the ravenry on lockdown, Brandon won’t be able to send anything then. Besides, we don’t even know if Errald will even stay true to his deal. I’ve lived on these lands long enough to know that little spoilt fuck always changes his mind.” Ian looked to Lord Barrock with curious eyes.
“You’re saying he could betray us?” Barrock shrugged.
“If … [view original content]
Comments
[Run to Allise’s aid]
That's pretty easy to choose, priorities
[Run to Allise’s aid]
Right, another clear vote. Tristifer will run to Allise's aid.
I thought this was going to be the option you would choose, and from a Tristifer perspective it would be the option he would've chosen. We'll come back to Tristifer a bit later with one more part near the end of the chapter. For now, I'm going to start writing a Jared part which should be pretty long if I follow my plans. If not, we'll just have to wait and see!
Jared
The Seahorse slowly drifted towards to harbour of the Harlaw Hall. Korb’s pirates stood along the ship’s balustrades, or hanged off the wiring to the top of the masts. Lord Kober’s men and Athen Greyjoy’s men had formed a shield wall, though Jared and Tanner stood ahead of these masses at the bow of the ship. Tanner grinned with joy, his axe in his right hand, held by only a finger and a thumb, stumps and faith. Jared held his axe by his side, and his shield - displaying the sigil of House Hoare - in front of his body. As the Seahorse landed against the wooden pier, Lord Kober’s men were the first to disembark the ship and continue along the pier. Athen Greyjoy’s men were soon to follow along. Jared searched the harbour from the Seahorse, and to his surprise it was empty. Abandoned. Jared turned back to his handful of men, ruthless killers wielding axes and blades with unshapable horrors. Andiron Quarter-Iron stood among the small crowd with his large iron battle axe in both his hands.
“You know why we’re here. We all have a duty to the king to put this Harlaw’s ass in the ground. It may not be our way, but it’s the king’s will for those who betray us.” Jared looked up to Korb the Pirate, who stood at the helm overhearing the speech. Jared turned back to his men. “Let’s show these Harlaw fucks what happens when you betray the king!” Jared’s speech was concluded with a battle roar, which led the men off the ship to join the two shield walls.
As Jared was about to disembark, Korb the Pirate grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him back. Jared turned and looked the man in the one good eye he had. His grip around the handle of his axe had tightened.
“You’ve made a grave mistake, Prince Pyke. If you’d only taken my deal, you may have even survived this attack.” Jared leaned in closer to Korb, so only he could hear.
“If I survive this, and we are ever to meet again. I will plant my axe into your fucking one-eyed skull.” Jared turned and disembarked the ship, leaving the pirate alone with his threats.
Jared joined his men and formed a small shield wall in between the Goodbrother’s and Greyjoy’s. They had made it off of the pier and into the harbour, which was just a great stretch of planks with cargo. Jared quietly ordered his men to spread out, searching every nook and cranny of the harbour. Surprised by the outcome of just how abandoned the harbour was, the three leaders of their small army met up in a small chandlery. The inside of the chandlery was full of ship requirements: cleats, anchors, grappling hooks and even ballista turrets. The men sat in silence, staring at the wonders of the chandlery. The Goodbrother eventually broke the silence.
“I don’t like this, they knew we were coming.” The silence that followed the Goodbrother’s words added onto the tension. Finally, Athen spoke up.
“We should stay here, secure a base. With the turrets and bolts, we could easily defend the harbour.” Lord Kober spat.
“What good is a harbour to us if no one is here? We need to get to Harlaw Hall and stick our blades into their meat.” As the Goodbrother said his words, he swung his axe into the post which held up the roof.
To their surprise, the post came crumbling down, as well as the floor. The men quickly jumped out of the way, and when they stood up they found two boys whimpering in the corner. They had been hiding in the roof. Jared looked up at the hole in the roof, rain started falling through the large gap in the roof. Jared turned as the door was kicked open and Andiron entered with his large battle axe in hand.
“What the bloody hell is going on in here!” Andiron yelled as they entered, the two young boys screamed. Athen turned to the brute of a man.
“Two boys hiding in the ceiling.” Lord Kober knelt down beside the young boys with his axe out.
“You’re going to tell me where everyone is, or I’ll slice open your-” Jared had sheathed his axe and placed his shield on his back, he leant against the other ceiling post with his arms crossed.
“Goodbrother, I’ll take care of this. Get your men to set a perimeter around the harbour.” Kober stood up, interrupted from his torture. A hint of anger in his eyes.
“As you say, Prince Pyke.” The lord said with a hint of mockery, then left the chandlery. Athen sheathed his iron longsword and turned to Jared.
“I’ll wait outside.” Jared nodded to the man, who had already turned and left. Andiron stood in the same stance he had when he entered.
“Wait outside, Andiron.” The man nodded, though as he was at the doorway Jared called out to him. “And shut the door.” The man did as Jared commanded, leaving him alone with the two boys.
Jared sighed and sat himself down, letting himself relax against the post. He looked around the chandlery, observing all the swords and pikes they had missed when they entered. More like an armoury. Jared turned to the two fearful boys.
“This your father’s shop?” The two boys nodded. “And where is your father now?” Hesitantly, one of the boys - who looked to be the oldest - replied.
“At Harlaw Hall.” Jared nodded, looking at the armaments. “Anyone else in the harbour?” The two boys now remained silent.
Jared stood up and walked over to them. The two were young, too young for death. Jared observed the two boys, one looked around twelve and the other perhaps a couple of years younger. He nodded at the youngest boy.
“What’s your name?” The boy turned to his older brother, then back to Jared.
“Siban, ser.” Jared sighed.
“I’m no ser. What about you, boy?” The boy seemed to be unnerved by the name Jared had given him.
“Banneth, and don’t call me boy.” Jared stood back, his hands in the air.
“Apologies my lord, it won’t happen again.” Jared grinned, the two boys look dissatisfied. Jared grabbed the youngest boy, Siban, and pulled him under the hole in the roof. Drops of rain landed on the boy’s face.
“Get your hands off of him!” Jared turned to his opposer, who still sat on the ground.
“Or what?” The boy looked at the ground, searching for an answer. Finally, he lifted his eyes and directed them at Jared.
“Or I will kill you.” Jared chuckled, turning his attention back to Siban but still talking to Banneth.
“You’re in no position to do that boy.” Jared sent a side glare which put the boy back in his place, then turned his focus back to Siban. “Does your father love you, Siban?” The boy turned to his oldest brother for guidance, though Jared shook the boy and grabbed his attention. “Stop looking at him! You don’t need him to answer your questions.” The boy looked Jared in the eyes and nodded.
“He does, s… Mister.” Jared nodded.
“And does he love you as much as Banneth?” Jared could see the boy’s eyes starting to flicker, tears welling up in his eyes.
“No mister.” The boy was in tears when he finally answered, Jared pulling in close.
“It’s alright, I understand. Do you know where your father is?” The boy nodded, Jared smiled. “Good, go to him. Give him a message for me, will you?” Jared pulled the boy away so he could see him nod.
“What’s the message mister?” Jared grinned.
“Tell your father that if he wants to see Banneth again, he will have to tell Lord Harlaw to meet me down at the harbour. Then he can have his favourite little boy back. Can you do that for me?” Siban nodded, wiping away his tears.
“Good, then run fast. Your father has until this afternoon.” Jared directed him to the door and handed him to one of Athen’s men, who stood next to Athen. “Get him outside the harbour safely, then he knows what to do.” The man nodded and led the boy away, Athen followed Jared inside.
“Well handled, my prince.” Jared smirked, and looked at Banneth who sat in the corner. Athen walked over to the boy and knelt down in front of him. “You’d better hope your father gets that message to the Harlaw, or he-” Banneth spat in the Greyjoy’s face, interrupting his sentence.
“You can bang your comments up your arse, Greyjoy.” Jared raised his eyebrows, surprised of the rebelling that this boy gave. There was almost something to admire, though Athen thought otherwise.
“You little piece of shit, you’ll learn who’s in charge around here.” Athen lifted his hand to smack the boy, though Jared caught his forearm and held him back.
“Easy, Athen. He’s my prisoner, and no harm will come to him unless the Harlaw doesn’t show.” Athen turned back to Jared, anger in his eyes. He stood up and left the chandlery, slamming the door like an angry teenager. Jared sighed. This will be a long wait.
-
The afternoon came faster than Jared intended, despite only sitting in the chandlery the entire time he had also had long chats with Banneth. He had learnt that their mother had died when Siban was born, hence why his father did not love him as much, and that she was a slave brought back from the Westerlands when the Ironborn last raided there. Jared had thought to him that it had been a long while ago, as it was rare that the Ironborn ever tried to raid the Lannisters. Jared stood and stared out of the roof at the sky, the sun was starting to set in the west, he could tell this by the darkness that started to creep in the sky. He turned to Banneth, who sat with his legs tucked to his chest.
“Shall we go meet your father?” The boy turned to Jared and raised his eyebrows, then stood up.
It had been the first time Jared had seen the boy stand, and to his surprise he was smaller than Siban. Jared ignored it and led the boy to the door of the chandlery. Opening it and stepping out into the heavier rain, Jared was met by Tanner. The man’s long wavy black hair had been straightened and saturated by the rain. His one cleanly shaved face was now with a stubble. He cheered like a madman.
“The Harlaw is here, the Harlaw is here.” He said as if it were a parade. Jared turned to Banneth and grinned.
“Looks like he does care.” Banneth avoided eye contact, Jared turned to back to Tanner. “Lead the way.” Tanner turned and skipped away, though when Jared started to follow, Banneth did not move. I don’t have time for this. Jared picked up the boy and slung him over his shoulder.
“Hey! Put me down you bastard!” Jared ignored the name and followed the skipping madman.
They walked in between the empty fishermen stalls and cargo crates until they were out of the harbour and at a hill. The harbour had been barricaded off with cargo crates, handmade fences and bits of driftwood. This makeshift wall was manned by Kober’s men, who stood guard staring at the mass army that stood at the top of the hill. Tanner stopped at the wall, doing his little dance, and Jared stopped by his side and put down Banneth. The boy turned to run but Jared grabbed his shoulder and held him close. Lord Kober came to Jared’s side.
“They’ve stood there for the past ten minutes now, sent no one down.” Jared turned to Kober.
“I’m going up there.” Jared wasn’t sure if the expression the man showed was shock or the face one gives to an idiot, Jared did not really care.
He climbed over the cargo, helping Banneth over as well, and dropped down to the other side. Jared turned to Kober, who stared at Jared with almost a saddened expression. Andiron now stood by his side, the only one man enough to speak.
“You don’t have to do this, Jared. We can wait this out, they won’t stand in the rain forever.” Jared shook his head.
“We’re running out of time. If I don’t return before the sun sets, start firing arrows.” Kober nodded.
“You’re one crazy bastard, yet your the King’s bastard. Come back alive, or I’ll mangle your corpse.” Jared grinned, turning and leaving the men behind him.
Jared let the boy run to the army, while he walked up the hill in sight of the Storm God and men alike. As Jared climbed the hill, the Harlaw archers drew their arrows, forcing him to stop in his tracks. Jared’s shield still remained on his back, his axe sheathed by his side. He watched as Banneth ran and hugged a man which Siban stood next to, his eyes welled up in tears. Jared smiled at the boy. He looked at all the archers who faced their arrows towards him, though he did not feel afraid. More or less, he was delighted to be acknowledged with so many archers, perhaps this made him just as crazy as Tanner.
“What do you want? Prince of Pyke.” Jared’s brow raised. That’s new.
“To speak with the Harlaw.” Jared could hear laughter among the Harlaw men, though silence quickly hushed them and they all moved aside.
“You’re speaking to him.” A man, perhaps on his sixties, appeared in front of the archers. His hair was fine and grey, falling to as far as his neck. “What do you want?” Jared grinned, looking at his foe.
“Let us speak somewhere more secluded.” Jared took a step further. An archer by the Harlaw’s side let loose one of his arrows, which landed right next to Jared’s foot.
“Very well.” The Harlaw turned and retreated behind the forces of his men. Jared was confused on what he meant, though approached the army nevertheless.
-
Jared sat in a small stone cottage with a thatch roof, his wooden chair was unstable and wobbled whenever he moved around on it. Opposite of him sat the Harlaw, who was more distinctive now. The man was certainly no longer in his prime, though he still had some muscle to him. He wore steel vambraces and shoulders, displaying the sigil of his house, though the rest he wore was chainmail. Behind him sat two of his guards, wielding pikes and long wooden shields with the Harlaw sigil imprinted on it.
“I am Harrin Harlaw, Lord of Harlaw’s Hall and Harlaw.” Jared chuckled.
“You sure do love that name.” Harrin eyed off Jared, then looked away.
“You are the Prince of Pyke, Thelred I presume? You share your father’s demeanour.” Jared smirked, though shook his head.
“I am Jared Pyke, King Qhored’s bastard son. Sent to kill you.” Jared noticed the guards behind the Harlaw adjust a firmer grip on their pikes. Harlaw raised his eyebrows then smiled.
“Are you now? And why is that?” Jared unsheathed his axe and placed it on the table, the guards pointing their pikes at him. “At ease, I would hear his words before the Drowned God takes him. That’s of course, if he takes you. It is not the Ironborn way to kill each other.” Jared sighed and nodded.
“Aye, it’s not. Though it is the king’s will, you have been branded a traitor to him and he wants your head.” The Harlaw frowned.
“I see, because I won’t give my men to him.” Jared nodded. “Do you want to know why?” Jared did not really care, though he shrugged nonetheless.
“I want to take your head off and return to Pyke, I grow sick of sitting here.” The Harlaw grunted and stood up, unsheathing his longsword.
“Then I will make a pact with you. With the Drowned God as our witness, let us pledge that the winner will allow the fallen all the proper funeral rituals.” Jared stood up and nodded.
“We fight at noon, at the hill. Spears, swords, axes and shields.” The Harlaw gave a wolfish grin.
“At noon.”
-
Jared stood at the barricade once again, this time staring at a lit torch arena. Jared could see the Harlaw wearing the same armour he had when Jared had spoken with him. Good, no plating to hack away. Jared could see that all the man was using was a spear and axe, so that is what Jared would use. Jared wore boiled leather jack, with an iron hauberk overtop. He too had chosen to wear vambraces and shoulders displaying his father’s house, though they were made of iron rather than steel. Jared grabbed his shield, sheathing his axe by his hip. Tanner passed Jared a spear, which he grabbed. The wooden shaft was smooth, though the wood was weak and cracking. The head of the spear was rusted iron, likely to break on first impact. Jared turned to Tanner, who shrugged.
“It was the only one I could find.” Jared sighed, looking at his foe heading towards the arena.
He turned to his allies. Goodbrother stood with his hands on his hips, the Greyjoy leant against a cargo container with Ezra Nightwood by his sides. Andiron Quarter-Iron held an iron norse helm in his hands, and Tanner stood with a large cheery smile like it was all a game.
“If I fall-” Jared started, but was interrupted by Kober.
“Then we’ll cut the fucker down.” Jared grinned, he was starting to like his lovers father. Tanner jumped up and down.
“Any last words if you don’t live?” Tanner asked, Jared smirked.
“Make me a Hoare when you sink my body, Qhored.” The men laughed, tapping Jared on the shoulder and wishing him luck. Andiron walked forward and placed the norse helm on Jared’s head, sending him on his way.
Jared headed towards the arena with his spear in hand and his shield in front of him. The dual could begin anytime now that they had both left their bases, though it was expected that the two dualers would exchange words before fighting. Jared looked to the sky, the Storm God watched them with the thirst for blood. The sound of raindrops on Jared’s iron helm were driving him mad. How can I concentrate on fighting when it sounds like arrows are being shot at my head every second? Jared arrived in the ‘arena’ and met his opponent. Harrin Harlaw stood with his spear in hand, a visored dark steel barbuta helmet atop his head, matching the colour of his dark steel armour. As Jared stopped a few metres away from the Harlaw, he entrenched his spear into the mud beneath him. The Harlaw lifted his visor.
“May the Storm God lust over how real Ironborn fight.” The men behind him cheered to his glory. Jared simply ripped of his helm and threw it to the ground. Jared heard gasps and chatter behind him. To Jared’s surprise, his opponent also removed his helmet. Jared grinned and grabbed his spear.
The two circled around the arena, the torches flickering as the rain hit the burning wood. One man would strike first, and the fight would commence. Jared had lapped the arena, and feeling like he would grow disorientated if he did another, he lunged his spear at the Harlaw’s chest. The old man lifted his shield and deflected the blow. Jared ran around him, jumping in the air and lunging all his force into another blow. Once again, the old man deflected the blow, except this time the rusty head split the wooden shaft into pieces. Jared threw away the mess, though as he was about to unsheath his axe the old man rushed towards him. Jared jumped out of the way, though the man quickly turned and swung his spear to Jared’s face. Jared lifted his shield, catching the blow and retaliating by smashing the shield down on the shaft of the Harlaw’s spear, snapping it in half. The Harlaw stumbled back, out of breath. The two men unsheathed their axes, and Jared swung his down at the man’s head. The old man parried the attack and sent a counter at Jared’s shield arm, Jared caught it with the shield, though the blow went through the wood and ripped the shield from Jared’s arm when pulled back. While the Harlaw was distracted with trying to free his axe, Jared took the opportunity to swing at the man. This time, instead of aiming for his back, Jared aimed for his leg. Jared swung, though the Harlaw had given up on his axe and caught the blow, bring them close together. Jared smashed his forehead against the old man, knocking him back.
Jared could hear the beating of drums. The Harlaw removed his primary defense and freed his axe, charging at Jared with his final effort. Jared rolled, dodging the blow, though managed to gash the man’s leg as he passed. Jared turned to examine the damage, the Harlaw was still standing though his free hand was covering his upper thigh. Jared grinned and licked his lips, walking towards the weakening man. He swung his axe down at his shoulder, though to his surprise the old man caught Jared’s arm and swung the blunt end of his axe into Jared’s cheek. Jared stumbled back, putting his to his newly throbbing left cheekbone. He removed his hand, and sure enough there was blood. Jared turned to see the Harlaw running towards him with his axe in the air. Naturally, Jared lifted his shield arm to deflect the blow, though when he realised he had ditched the shield it was too late. The axe smashed against his iron vambrace, lodging into the metal. Jared gritted his teeth as the pain shot up his arm, his grunt was loud enough for the closest men to hear. A cheer arose from the Harlaw army. Jared felt a crack in his left wrist, though the window was open. Jared swung his axe at the man’s back multiple times, breaking through the chainmail and cutting into him, no doubt reaching his kidney. The Harlaw fell onto his back, screaming in agony. Jared backed away and lifted his axe towards the men behind the barricade. A cheer shortly accompanied Jared, as he turned and looked to his fallen foe. He’s done. The man had turned onto his belly and started crawling away.
“Get up Lord Harlaw, I won’t let the mud steal my moment.” Blood squirted from Harrin’s back. As he attempted to get up, his weakened leg collapsed beneath him and he fell back into the mud. Jared shook his head and walked towards him.
Jared could hear the men yelling for him to show mercy, that they would join him. Jared stood over the Harlaw, who had now turned to face his killer in the eye.
“Do what you will, bastard.” Jared lifted his axe in the air, looking at his crowd.
He saw men of Harlaw’s army throwing down their weapons and begging for mercy. Others with fury in their eyes. Jared wondered if they would truly follow the Harlaw’s heir with them back to Pyke. Though he knew showing mercy would make him look weak to those like Goodbrother and Andiron. All his father wanted was the Harlaw army, whether the lord was dead or not did not matter. Jared looked down to his fallen opponent.
[Show mercy] [Finish him]
[Finish him]
[Finish him]
Rila
She had once again found herself in the torture chambers, though rather than admiring the work, she was participating. Rila held her dagger with a steady hand, in front of her was a cold corpse that was once a Bolton soldier. A traitor, Rila thought to herself with amusement. The man had been found sending the layout of the Dreadfort to a man named Norrhen Cassel, though had fortunately been stopped before sending the ravens. Rila’s father, the Red King of the Dreadfort, had ordered the man to be flayed to give his secrets. Skinner, her father’s favourite flayer, had taken on the torture and left the remnants of the corpse for Rila. As her father nor brothers had never taught her the skill to flaying, Rila had learnt from observation and practice on the left over corpses that her father’s executioners had left for her. Over the years she had become quite good at it, though today her work was shocking. Rila placed the blade at the skin and sliced away too much flesh, for the third time. She muttered under her breath, and decided it was time to try a different region. Rila knelt down and started on the pale white thigh, removing the leg hair. As she cut into the corpse’s leg, she sliced far too deep and severed the artery. When she removed her dagger it was too late, blood at already squirted all over her face and gotten into her mouth. Backing away, swallowing the day old blood, Rila stood and wiped her face with a rag. She pulled the rag away when she heard the rattling of chains approaching towards her. She saw the flayed man she knew as Sigil, once being her uncle, though now a hideous creature. He turned and looked at the flayed man.
“Skinner’s work. I'd recognise that technique from a mile away. Yours however, well it needs work.” Rila spat out old dried blood and returned to the corpse.
“Shut it old man, I did not come down here for your counsel.” As she was about to slice into the other leg, the flayed man replied.
“Then what did you come down here for?” Rila turned to Sigil with her dagger in hand, looking at him like he was the most idiotic man to lurk in the Dreadfort. She turned back to her work in silence. “Well, suit yourself. You know where to find me.” Rila listened as the chains rattled off into the distance, then went silent.
She sighed, her mood had been off all day. It was not her time of the month, though something else. Her father had recently had his ceremonial anointing, being branded as the Red King. When she was about to be announced, Terrek of House Whitehill had bursted through the doors and ruined the whole evening. Rila was still bitter to her father for not granting her the titles and blessings that he had bestowed onto his sons. So Rila came down to the torture chambers, to slice the problems away.
Rila worked silently, and barely noticed when her brother had sat down behind her and watched her work. Only when he cleared his throat did she turn around to see him. Jory wore his dark brown tunic, and his dark grey leather vest over the top of it. He wore his leather gloves, and all his travelling gear. His dark steel sallet rested by his side. Rila smiled and walked over to her older brother, sitting beside him.
“I’m heading off with Terrek Whitehill today. Fifty of our soldiers are to accompany me, we’re going to make a base of operations at Highpoint. When the Starks decide to take their army to the Dreadfort, we’ll hit them from behind at Winterfell.” Rila grinned and caressed his cheek, though her sour mood once again flooded over her.
“No doubt father will keep me here, marry me off to that Skagosi bastard like he threatened to.” Jory rolled his eyes and leant against the iron bars behind him.
“I doubt it, he actually wants to speak with you. That’s part of the reason why I’m down here.” Rila threw the words around her mind for a while before replying, they just did not make sense to her.
“Why would he want to speak with his disapproving daughter?” Jory shrugged.
“I don’t ask questions, I just act.” Rila sighed, knowing this to be far too true. “Come on, we’ll go to his quarters. I think if you keep this up you’ll end up like Leech, not that there’s anything wrong with Leech’s work.” Jory grinned, and Rila felt like hitting him in return.
Jory quickly grabbed his helm and jokingly darted away, like a mad jester putting on a parade for the King. Rila shook her head and chased after him.
-
The two ran through the halls of the Dreadfort, bumping into guards and nobles alike. Once they finally made it to her father’s quarters, they stopped and embraced. Rila rested her head on Jory’s shoulder, feeling his warm through the cloth sweater. She looked up at him with her icy eyes.
“Don’t get yourself killed brother. You might respect the Starks, but I don’t. Do not hesitate to flay everyone of those fuckers.” Jory frowned, flicking his focus between his sister’s two eyes.
“I need to go, we ride at nightfall. Which if you hadn’t noticed, is not too far away.” Rila turned and looked out the hall windows, which were tinted black making it harder to see outside.
Before Rila could say her farewells, her brother was already down the end of the hall and exiting the Dreadfort. She sighed and turned to the doors of her father’s quarters, she was not ready though it was her duty as a Bolton to serve her father. She walked to the double dark wooden doors and considered knocking. I am his daughter, I don’t need to lower myself to that level. Rila opened the doors and entered. The room was darker than the hall, to her surprise, and was only fueled by one candle. As Rila’s eyes adjusted, she saw her father sitting behind his desk, and opposite of him was his ward: Donnor Frost. He sighed and turned back to the young man.
“Very well, you may ride to the Frost Keep. Though I will be sending someone with you.” The man smiled and nodded.
“As you wish, your grace.” The King rolled his eyes and nodded.
“Yes yes, you’re dismissed. Rila stared at Donnor as he walked passed her, there was some charm to him that made her nervous whenever she was in his presence. She shook the feeling and turned to her father.
“My king, you wished for my appearance?” Nestar grunted and looked to the seat opposite him.
“Sit down.” Rila did as her father commanded, without hesitation. “I spoke with Baerik Magnar, and you’re in luck. Turns out he wanted to marry his sister.” Rila felt as if a weight from her endless load on her shoulders had been removed. She wanted to smile, though held back the urge and shook her head sadly.
“How disappointing, I am sorry to hear of this, my king.” Nestar scowled at Rila with a cold bitterness.
“Keep your comments to yourself girl. You wonder why you weren’t granted your titles and blessings, this attitude is why.” Rila felt like that weight had been added again, though she held her ground.
“Apologies father, won’t happen again.” She knew her words were lies, though she did not look to anger him at this moment. He gently nodded and stood up.
“I’ve decided I can’t keep you here forever, and I can’t marry you off to someone you don’t love. You walked into this conversation late, though you know Donnor is heading to the Frost Keep.” Rila nodded, though it had made her curious.
“Why is that?” Nestar shrugged.
“I have treated the boy like a son, had my children treat him like family. Yet still, he wishes to leave and rejoin his family. He won’t be my ward forever, though he is still not ready to leave the Dreadfort.” Rila nodded, confused why he would want to leave so soon though understanding nonetheless.
“Who are you choosing for his escort?” Nestar shrugged.
“Perhaps Jeck, or Hunter. Maybe even you, you’re highly capable and have your wits about you. Might do you good to see another family as well. Maybe even marry and solidify the alliance.” Nestar shrugged. “Of course, Jory also wanted you to join him to Highpoint. I also see this as a valid option, as he is not the best when it comes to strategy and politics. Neither are the Whitehills.” Rila was a little taken back by these offers from her father.
“Are you sure you don’t want me by your side?” Nestar chuckled.
“To do what? Sit with boredom and sneak off into the torture chambers? No, I have Shayne to watch over me. You choose what you want to do, but I don’t want to see you here tomorrow. If I do, I will personally kick you out.” Rila felt herself smile, though she was not aware if that was appropriate. She was not even sure if what was happening was good or not, though she was happy to leave.
She thought heavily on who she would like to accompany. There was no doubting that she had a soft spot for Donnor, and perhaps they could make something out of it in the long term. Though she did not know if he felt the same. Then there was her brother, she knew that this war would not survive off fighting alone. It was possible her skills with politics, diplomacy and strategy could be of some use at Highpoint, if she was heard.
[Go to Highpoint] [Go to the Frost Keep]
[Finish him]
Usually, I'd be all for mercy. In this case however, I'm afraid I don't see it as fitting. What he did was basically treason, even if I somewhat sympathize with him. If anything, it would be up for the king to give him mercy or not and the king already ordered Jared to kill Harlaw. Aside from that, even if we see Jared as a relatively good guy, he is still Ironborn and mercy is not the way of the Ironborn, especially not when it comes to someone who commited high treason. He said himself that some of the men won't respect him when they see him as weak. Similarly, I doubt the Harlaw will be impressed and the rest of his men probably won't follow a weakling either.
[Finish him]
[Go to the Frost Keep]
God, Rila is such a psycho. A Bolton to the core and so damn creepy. There's something about her that is really unsettling. With this choice, I was torn, as neither options have particularly good arguments that totally convince me in favour of one of them. Since I still have to choose, I chose the Frost Keep. On the one hand, I kinda enjoyed Rila's interaction with Jory. For a family that is rather known for hating each other almost as much as they hate the rest of the world, this was a nice touch. On the other hand, Rila can be useful at Highpoint. In this war, I root for the Starks, so I don't want her to be useful.
Hahaha, selfish but you know your priorities! Oh and I also started reading the catch ups on FoT, nearly done with chapter 2!
[Finish him] Showing mercy just doesn't feel like the Ironborn way. Though I guess this could end badly, but I guess we'll just have to see.
[Go to Highpoint]
[Go to the Frost Keep]
Hmmm, I'm torn in this because both locations are interesting...
[Go to Highpoint] I'll choose this because it means more interaction between Rila and Jory.
And damn, you are writing these parts fast!
[Show mercy]
I already see I will be in minority, but still - I'd give it a try, Harlaw's forces would power the Jared's army to a great excent. I don't know if he should trust them, so maybe it's good that the another choice is winning here.
[Go to Highpoint]
Well, I quite agree with Liquid here - I'm also rooting for Starks, but I want to see what can she do in Highpoint. She will be useful here, giving Boltons the advantage, so decreasing the chances of Starks, but we can't predict what happens. Maybe, in some wicked way, Rila's presence in Hightpoint will, i don't know, make a little conflict so Whitehills will stop being an ally to Bolton's which would be very in Stark's favor. Anyways, now I'm going for Highpoint option, we'll see if it pays off.
Julie
Julie’s legs shook beneath her like one who was first to walk on ice. She leant on her spear to help her keep her balance, though if she did not sit soon she would surely fall. She turned to Skagard, who rested with his eyes closed.
“I’m going to talk to the brothers.” Skagard lifted his head, raising an eyebrow, then shrugged.
“As you say Julie, now let me rest.” Julie took in a breath of cold air, her teeth clattering against each other as a shiver went down her spine.
She turned and started heading towards where one of the brother’s sat, whether is was Gendel or Gorne she did not know. Each step for Julie was agonising, sending jolts of pain through her thighs which made her want to fall to the ground and scream. Yet she still pushed on, knowing she was stronger. She had survived where Thenns had fallen, Thenns who were deemed stronger than she could ever be. If I could survive the tunnels, I can survive this walk. She repeated to herself over and over, until she was finally behind the dweller. She lowered herself down to the cold stone ground, which was covered in crushed bones and weeds. In front of the two was the large waterfall that poured down the Gorge. Even from the distance they were away, she could still feel the light spray of water slowly starting to dampen her clothing. She turned to the brother that she had sat next to, and recognised him to be Gorne. She sighed and turned back to the falling water.
“Not the brother you wanted to see?” Gendel asked, flipping the bronze coin. It was around the size of Julie’s palm, and in the centre was a mangled bronze corpse. She shook her head.
“Where is Gendel?” Gorne nodded to the waterfall.
“Speaking with the gods.” Julie raised an eyebrow.
“The gods? What gods?” Julie was highly confused, she felt like Gorne to spoke in riddles.
“Our gods, the gods that showed me the way. Gorne’s Way, the salvation to the Freefolk.” The sound coming from Julie was in between a grunt and a sigh, she rested her face in her hands.
“Whatever you say, Cave Dweller.” As the words left her mouth, Gorne caught the coin from the air and stood, looking down on her.
“You came to me for a reason, what do you want?” Julie looked up to Gorne, squinting her eyes at the cloudy sky behind him.
“I wanted to speak to Gendel. To understand what is bloody going on.” Gorne mockingly smiled.
“Stand up, Julie of the Ice Rivers.” Julie grunted and grabbed her spear, slowly helping herself up. As she did, Gorne had pulled out some sort of crystal and crushed it in his hands.
“What’s that?” Gorne ignored her and finished crushing all the tiny crystal formations. As she watched him finish, she felt like she had seen visions of her family back at the Ice Rivers. She shook her head and the memory.
“You want to understand? Inhale.” Gorne lifted his cupped hands to Julie’s face, who instantly stepped back.
“Tell me what that is. Now.” Gorne smiled and took a step towards her.
“Inhale, and you will know.” Julie stood her ground as the painted cupped white hands approached her face. She breathed.
-
Julie found herself soaring through the sky, like a bird of a sort. She looked at her surroundings. She flew over a Nightrunner and old man of the Night’s Watch. She did not know how, but she knew that the girl beneath her was a Nightrunner. She wore white fur, and her hair was like a burning fire. As Julie flew closer to examine her further, a hawk flew as her a clawed at one of her wings. Julie retreated.
Julie then found herself flying over the Frostfangs, she could see the Ice River Clans beneath her. The stone and bone made homes, roofed with scavenged wood or rare thatch. Julie dived down, weaving in between the homes and darting towards the stone court where her father stood. The clan leader, Dogrim, spoke with her father: Narrik. Though as she flew closer she saw her father’s throat being slit by bronze daggers. Afraid, Julie flew up, now finding herself in the Vale of Thenn. The peaceful mountains juxtapositioned the stone halls of the Magnar. Julie swooped down and saw the Thenn’s wearing their bronze armour, almost like they were preparing for war. Though they were not heading south, though north. Julie flew as far as north could take her, to the lands of always winter. She stopped and soared over the thick snow, watching as the Thenn’s traversed it in their snow shoes. Julie hovered for awhile, allowed the clear sun to beam down on her and fight against the cold and snow, though the sun had little power here.
As Julie was about to turn back and fly elsewhere, she heard the sound of a loud screech, like scratching into ice. She turned around and saw a collection of ice shards and snow flying towards her, all held together by some blue entity. As she tried to fly away, passing the Thenn’s she turned around. The Thenn’s had secured a battle position, though as the entity - which could only be described as an ice storm or blizzard - swept passed. Those that were left in its wake were shredded to pieces. As the blizzard passed under her, and began heading south, Julie watched the mass army behind it. Creatures of ice followed in its trail. Deformed creatures with shards of ice spiking out of them, running on all fours with no fur but instead skin. Men secured in frozen ice, standing ten feet tall and as strong as a mountain. Smaller blizzards, and frozen creatures as small as ants followed. As Julie turned around to flee, she was consumed.
-
Julie awoke to a thundering sound of water crashing on stone, she opened her eyes and found herself looking at a wall of water. Is this still a dream? She backed away and bumped into something that moved, she turned and saw it to be Gorne. Julie reached for her spear, though panicked when it was not on her back. Gorne slowly approached towards her.
“Get away from me!” Julie screamed, though could barely even hear her words from the thundering sound beside her. Gorne helped her up, to her surprise her legs were no longer shaking, or even sore.
“Follow me.” He yelled, which Julie could only just hear.
Gorne entered a thin crack in the stone opposite the thundering wall of water, and disappeared into a deep darkness. Julie hesitated, looking for another way to escape, though found nothing. She entered the small crack in the stone wall, which she had to enter on her side. She travelled the narrow pathway for what felt like forever in the darkness, though when she had reached the other side she found Gorne standing beside his brother Gendel. Gendel widened his eyes in shock.
“Julie, what are you doing here?” Julie looked as confused and afraid as Gendel. Fortunately Gorne stepped in for her.
“I showed her what was to come. She knows.” Julie rubbed her head, her ears still ringing from the thundering sound she had finally escaped.
“That was all real? Everything I saw?” Gendel allowed her to fall into his arms, exhausted and dehydrated.
“Here, drink this.” Julie pushed the cup away, afraid it would be some other sort of drug to disorientate her.
“I don’t want anything else that you have to give me.” Gendel turned to Gorne with a scowl on his expression, Gorne shrugged. Gendel passed the wooden cup back to Gorne.
“She needs water, please?” Gorne nodded and took the cup. Gendel turned back to Julie. “Are you alright? Once you get some fluids into you, I assure you your head will stop spinning.” Julie shook her head, everything was dizzy.
“I need to sit down.” Gendel nodded, and rested her against the surprisingly warm stone wall. Perhaps it was a part of her imagination.
“Those crystals Gorne gave you, he shouldn’t have done it. We cave dwellers spend years just to take small doses of it, and he gave you an entire shard! I’m surprised you’re even still alive.” Julie rested her head against the wall and touched her nose, when she wiped what she thought to be the runs away, she found it to be blood.
“Gendel, what was all that?” Gendel frowned, turning to see Gorne behind him. Gorne passed him the cup.
“We will speak of it once you are fully recovered, here. Drink.” Julie hesitated, though submitted to the Cave Dweller’s will for a second time. Darkness clouded her vision.
-
More disturbing visions had appeared in her dreams, though when she awoke she felt stronger than she had this entire journey. She sat herself up, finding Gendel and Gorne speaking to each other. She cleared her throat, and the two cave dwellers turned around.
“Julie! How are you feeling?” Gendel asked with that wide smile of his. Julie shrugged.
“Better. Now can you explain to me what I saw?” Gendel nodded, helping her off the ground. Julie felt odd, her legs were different. It was like they were someone else’s.
Julie was guided by Gendel to a natural stone pillar, in it was a frozen pool of water with visions dancing in the reflection. When Julie looked closer, the noticed it was the same as she had seen.
“Was this all real?” Gendel shrugged his shoulders.
“It’s hard to tell, some of these visions were highly random. Though we are certain that the Great Ice Wraith and it’s frozen army are real. Whether the Thenn’s are trying to fight it, once again I do not know.” Julie shook her head, once again confused.
“Great Ice Wraith? Frozen army?” Gendel rested his hand on her shoulder.
“It is a lot to take in, I know. This is what the Others have shown us, we don’t know why. Though we know we have the chance to get south of the Wall, and that’s a chance we must take.” Gorne followed up Gendel’s conclusion.
“The Blizzard is coming, that is what the Others have called this horrific creature. With it, an army that would ice over the entire continent. It does not feed, it dominates and conquers. We have to unite the Freefolk and flee south before it is too late.” Gendel nodded in agreement.
“We should be able to easily unite the Thenn’s to our cause, if Maror stays true to his word. We could use your help in uniting the Ice River Clans.” Julie shook her head.
“The Ice Rivers won’t follow a king, they barely even follow each other. That’s why I left.” Gorne sighed.
“We still have to try. They might be persuaded if one of their own is by their side. We also want to bring one of Maror’s Thenn’s. He has agreed that he will allow one for us to choose. If you agree to come with us, we could use your recommendation.” Julie felt a rush of panic roll over her.
To leave the Manglers would be like leaving home again. Though would Maror still want me here? Remember what he did to Baedol? Julie calmed herself down and buried her hands into her head.
“I don’t know.” She said, her words muffled into her frozen hands. “I don’t know if I am still wanted here, I’m afraid to leave. Yet I’m afraid to stay.” Gendel nodded.
“We will let you decide. We have been looking to take either Lokran or Skagard with us to the Vale of Thenn.” Gorne added onto Gendel’s sentence.
“Both are suitable choices, though you have known them longer. We would like your input, if we may?” Julie lifted her head from her hands. She had to be strong, stand for herself for once.
Choice 1: [Join Gendel and Gorne] [Stay with the Manglers]
Choice 2: [Recommend Skagard] [Recommend Lokran]
Kaiden
For the first time in since Kaiden’s capture, he was cold. His ripped clothing and rags supplied little warmth, though something else sent a shiver through his bones. Kaiden quietly sat behind the two logs he had tried to catch a rat in, trying to stay as hidden as possible. The footsteps approaching him grew louder and closer, and for a moment he wished he had started running. Kaiden slowed down his breathing, trying to stay as silent as possible. He heard the footsteps stop opposite of the log he had his back to, the sound of a weapon being unsheathed made Kaiden clench his hands scarred and burned hands into fists, or he tried to. His hands had little movement left, though he used the ground to help shut them.
“Rux, you see anything?” Called the same voice, which Kaiden had heard others call Ratter.
“No, must’ve been the wind.” Ratter let out a mocking laugh, adding more shivers down Kaiden’s frozen spine.
“You fucking coward. Come on, I want to get back to the village and eat.” Kaiden heard the man on the other side of the log sheath his weapon, and turn around. Kaiden had kept his legs close to him, though a muscle spasm caused him to have to straighten his leg. Kaiden tried to calm his leg, though as he did he grunted in pain.
“What was that?” Kaiden heard the footsteps heading back towards him, this time walking past the log.
Kaiden looked up at the bald headed wildling, his face chubby and afraid. Kaiden must of matched that fear, because he screamed like a madman. The wildling turned, just as terrified and unsheathed his shortsword.Kaiden ran past the man trying to escape for his life, the wildling dropped his sword and ran in fear. Kaiden felt his legs starting to fail him, and as one muscle pulled another and something twinged, Kaiden found himself in agony on the ground. He started crawling, heading for the route he had decided on earlier. His faulty hands failed to grip the stones beneath him, forcing him to use his forearms to drag himself along. Kaiden may have made it only two metres before he felt a force push him down, a foot standing on him.
“You’re as weak as piss, Rux. It’s only a-” Kaiden was rolled over, facing an entire group of more barefoot freaks. “What the fuck are you?” Kaiden felt a surge of inconsistent beats in his chest.
Kaiden looked up to the gaunt ugly man. His eyes were small and beady, his nose long and large. His hair was receding, and his two buck teeth pointed out of his mouth - making him have distinctions of a rat.
“Bind him. I’m this is one of Krumm’s little burned boys.” Kaiden saw the men come in from behind Ratter with rope and bind it around Kaiden’s legs.
As they were getting to his hands, Kaiden noticed Rux had picked up his sword, though something else had put fear into his eyes. Before Ratter knew it, the same beast that Kaiden had encountered earlier had lunged at him and knocked him to the ground. The men atop of Kaiden dropped the bindings and drew their weapons, being rusted maces and swords or iron axes, anything they had they aimed at the beast. Kaiden turned onto his stomach and continued crawling, trying to get as far away as he could. When Kaiden looked up, he saw an arrow soar over his head. When he turned, he saw one of the barefoot men fall to the ground. Then another, hit in the thigh and finished by the beast. After the third arrow, which pierced Rux in the neck, the men started running. The beast chased after them with a deathly howl, and soon all was quiet. Kaiden had reached the trunk of a sentinel tree, where he had propped up his back. He overlooked the mayhem that had passed in under a minute. Five men dead, the rest scrambled. What the hell was that? Kaiden reached around for something sharp to help sever or loosen the bindings around his ankles. Finally, he secured his hands around a broken stick. Not ideal, but it’ll do. Kaiden started trying to slice through the thick binds, though to his disappointment it was little use. He then tried to loosen the tight bounds by jamming his stick in between the ropes and his ankle, though the weakness in his hands barely even permitted for him to hold the stick. Grunting, Kaiden threw away the stick and searched for a rock. After a small amount of effort, Kaiden finally spotted one and dragged it towards him with his tired hands. As he adjusted a firm grip on it, he heard the sound of a bowstring being pulled back. He slowly looked up, and saw a woman with a loaded bow aiming an arrow to his head.
“Drop.” She said, like it was a foreign word. She said it aggressively, like she wanted it out of her mouth.
Kaiden did as she said, and released the rock from his hands. He watched as the woman released the tension on her bow string. Kaiden examined the woman, there was some beauty to her. Her hair was black and long with curls, and her skin was as pale as the snow he sat in. Her eyes unique, one being as blue as the sky and the other as brown as dirt. Kaiden would have considered her an innocent young woman, though the way she looked at him perceived her as dangerous - murderous even. Kaiden could do little but watch as she placed her arrow back in her fur quiver and slung her bow over her back. She walked over to Kaiden and knelt down by his feet, pulling a bronze dagger from her boot. She pointed it at him, making fear surge through his heart and appear on his face.
“Please, don’t hurt me. I don’t want to die, please!” Kaiden started shaking, trying to avoid being cut by this ferocious woman.
He heard her yell at him in some foreign language, and he only stopped when the blade rested at his throat. She repeated a foreign word silently, then moved down to Kaiden’s ankles and cut the bindings. She backed away, allowing Kaiden some space to use to help him stand. One Kaiden was on his feet, the once tall and terrifying woman now stood a head below him when standing straight, though his injuries hunched him. Kaiden felt his head starting to spin, he had stood up too fast and his lack of hydration had gotten to his head. He saw his vision starting to black out, he reached for something to guide himself, though fell nonetheless.
-
The heat returned into Kaiden’s skin, warming his bones and burning his flesh. He opened his one eyelid and saw that the sky was dark. He rolled over to find a small campfire with one leg of rabbit remaining on a stick hovering over the flames. Opposite the fire, sat the woman who had saved his life. He grabbed the meat and sunk his teeth into it, the rough meat finally gave way after Kaiden’s third attempt. The cooked juices fill his mouth, pooling at the bottom of his jaw. Kaiden swallowed the meat and took another bite. He noticed the woman opposite him smiling. Once he had finished the leg, he chucked the bone into the fire and tried to sit straight. Thinking of something to say, there was only one thing he could think of.
“Thank you, for saving my life.” The woman nodded, though he was not sure if she understood. He sighed, trying something else. “What is your name?” The woman looked at him with confusion in her unmatching eyes.
“N-name?” She said, as if trying to spell it out. Kaiden nodded, placing his hands on his chest.
“Yes, I am Kaiden. Son of Jorge, a farmer at Skane. Who are you?” The woman looked at Kaiden with confusion, and perhaps stupidity. He sighed and pointed to himself. “Kaiden.” Then pointed to her.
The woman looked at herself, as if trying to find something, then back to Kaiden. Finally, something had clicked. She clenched her hand into a fist and placed it over her heart.
“Aia.” Kaiden had nearly missed the name, he was shocked that she finally understood.
“Aia?” The woman nodded and repeated her name. Kaiden stood up and walked over to her, extending his hand. She looked at Kaiden’s hand, then his eyes.
“Fire Thenn.” She said, caressing Kaiden’s hand. He pulled his hand away, ashamed. She sighed and pointed off to the distance. Kaiden turned and looked, sure enough it was the Wall. “Home.” She quietly said, then stood up and grabbed her bow.
“Where are you going?” Kaiden asked, now confused and worried. She turned and pointed north, then to her chest.
“Home.” She then pointed to Kaiden, then north. As if to ask him to accompany her.
Kaiden turned back to the Wall, then to Aia. Would the Watch even recognise me anymore? He did not want to be realistic with himself, the Night’s Watch was his home. It had been for many years, yet they had locked him in rooms overnight to keep him at bay, even if it hadn’t worked. Yet he longed to see his friend, Brett, and Tristifer. He turned and sighed. Perhaps that life is now lost, maybe my best option is with her. He looked at her with saddened eyes, this girl had saved his life, she would not wait forever.
[Stay with Aia] [Return to the Wall]
[Stay with Aia]
Ah, Aia. Lovely introduction, glad to finally see her! Of course I want to see more of her, therefore my choice :-D
[Join Gendel and Gorne] I'm curious what comes after that.
[Recommend Skagard]
[Join Gendel and Gorne]
Wow, this was an awesome part, with Julie's vision and all! This Great Ice Wraith is pretty intriguing and now, a lot of things make more sense. I guess this is the being the Stranger is fleeing from. And Julie should definitely go with Gendel and Gorne. She might be useful in persuading the Ice Rivers to follow. Also, this is definitely going to be very interesting.
[Recommend Skagard]
I see both as capable for this mission and would like to give both of them the chance to shine. However, since I have to choose, I'm just going to agree with Mathea. Could go both ways with Skagard, but with Lokran as well, I guess.
[Stay with Aia]
Personally, I feel like returning to the Wall would be a good choice for Kaiden if he makes it. However, I highly doubt that he, with his wounds, is going to make it all alone. He barely made it to where Aia found him and without her, he'd be dead for sure. I guess there are far more dangerous things out there, including stuff like this strange beast that just attacked his captors. On his own, he stands no chance. Therefore, going with Aia means that he stays alive, which is a good thing.
[Stay with the Manglers]
[Recommend Skagard]
[Return to the Wall]
[Join Gendel and Gorne] Sounds like a better option story-wise
[Recommend Skagard]
[Show mercy] Because Sweet mercy is nobility's true badge.
[Go to Highpoint] Like everyone ,i'm with the starks , but i just love the interactions with her brother ,it's kinda original for the boltons and i love it !
[Join Gendel and Gorne]
[Recommend Skagard]
I can't wait to see more of that "Frozen Army"
[Return to the Wall]
Staying north of the wall won't help him , even more with what's coming .It may be hard to reach it but it'll much harder later on if he stays with that girl north of it .
Alright, well I will close this vote. Jared will finish off Lord Harren Harlaw.
This was perhaps a bit more of an important vote because it swings both ways. There will be some men that won't follow Jared because he killed their leader, there would be some men that wouldn't follow him if he hadn't because it would have made him look weak, and there will be some men that won't follow regardless. Personally, I think this is the best choice.
Alright, well this vote has to be closed. Rila will choose to go to Highpoint.
Should be interesting to say the least. Her tactics and diplomic values may be of use, though the Whitehill's may not respect a female Bolton as much as someone like Jory. At any rate, I must be one of those dark people that prefers the Bolton's over Starks, Ironborn over Rivermen, Ice River Clans over Thenns, people. I was honestly hoping your love for the Starks would send her to the Frost Keep, it would have been nice to have seen the Frost's and for Rila to had a stronger connection with Donnor. For another time perhaps.
Ian
Banners of the allied houses blew in the soft wind that came from the North. Ian sat in his tent behind a makeshift desk. In front of him stood the lords of the houses that had sided with the Stark army. On the far left stood Lord Barton Mormont, a robust and serious man, who carried his house with pride and honour. He wore plated armour with the tabard of his house, and wielded a giant one sided battle axe. His face was nearly always stern and showed little emotion, though his deep blue eyes told a man everything he needed to know. Beside him stood Lady Trysta Glover, who wore a mixture of plated and padded armour - her tabard displayed the iron gauntlet of House Glover. For her age, she was strikingly beautiful. Her messy brown hair was tied back into a ponytail, and her dark brown eyes showed integrity and placidity. Next to her stood Lord Barrock Tallhart, then Lord Donovan Umber and Prince Brandon Stark. Ian bowed his head and muttered a prayer to the Seven, then stood up.
“I’ve called you all to discuss the matter with the Dustin’s. I have decided that we will call on their aid, though I am open to suggestions on how to gain such an alliance.” As Ian suspected, there was a lot of disagreement and bickering among the lords and lady.
“Fuck the Dustin’s. We can do this without them, General.” Ian heard a touch of mockery in Lord Donovan’s words, as he was to expect being his general.
“We can’t win this war without allies, Umber.” Lord Bartan said with a deep and calm tone. Donovan chuckled.
“Aye, says the Mormont who can barely even protect his shores. Perhaps they should have made your wife the head of Bear Island, gods know the woman do all the work there. Pretty too.” Ian could have sworn Mormont would have hit the man if Trysta had not intervened.
“Shut your mouth, Umber. You want to fuck with the Bear, fuck with him once we finish this war.” As she spoke, she grabbed the Barton’s wrist, who’s hand was clenched into a fist. Lord Barrock nodded.
“On to the task at hand… We could secure an alliance with an a trade of a sort.” He turned to Lady Trysta. “Perhaps the Forresters could submit some of their ironwood forest?” Trysta shook her head.
“Not fucking likely. Those bloody Whitehill’s are acting shady again, Ironrath had gone into a lockdown.” Ian Morland sighed.
“Any other ideas?” Ian asked, Lord Donovan stood forward.
“The son of the King of Winter is with us. As the Dustin’s live in the north it is their duty to serve the king’s justice.” Ian shook his head.
“No, they never pledge their vows. Nor did the Ryswell’s.” Ian turned to Barrock. “Or the Tallhart’s at that.” Lord Barrock nodded in thanks for acknowledgement.
“What if we offered them more land?” Lord Barton suggested, though the idea was squandered beneath Lord Donovan’s grunt.
“The bastards have an entire Barrow of land!” Lord Donovan spat. “Greedy fuckers.” Lord Barton turned to Lord Donovan.
“Aye, they have a barrow. You can’t expect them to build on a burial ground, Lord Donovan.” The Umber shrugged. Trysta spoke up.
“What if we pay them in gold?” Ian shook his head.
“The majority of the Stark gold is being funded into weaponry and sellswords, and Lord Umber is sending his to Skane.” Donovan nodded with a grin wide across his face. “I mean no disrespect my lady, though I cannot see you nor Bear Island being able to find enough coin to buy a quarter of their land, little-own an entire army.” Trysta frowned, Lord Barton’s face reddened with either anger or embarrassment.
“Then why don’t we give them what they want?” It had been the first time Brandon had spoken in their small council meetings, his voice was strong and firm. Ian raised an eyebrow.
“What do you mean?” Brandon sighed, remembering Ian was a southerner.
“Hundreds of years ago, the Kings of Winter sacked every kingdom in the north to become the one ruling kingdom. During the Andal Invasion, the Dustin’s were young but grew to be one of the strongest kingdoms of the north. Give them back their kingdom, become allies.” Lord Donovan looked bewildered, Lord Barrock’s face reddened with anger.
“We can’t just give them a fucking kingdom!” Lord Barrock blurted, Lord Donovan nodded in agreement.
“Aye, we’re having this war to destroy an uprising kingdom, not make one.” Brandon sighed, clearly not seeing any point to argue, though Ian had been left with an idea.
“Very well, we will meet with the King had try to previous suggestions. Perhaps we can pay them the gold once we get it back.” The men and woman in front of him gently nodded, not seeing many other options.
“Shall we send a raven?” Brandon asked, standing with all his weight on one leg. Ian shook his head.
“No, we’ve camped on Lord Errald Dustin’s lands. We will meet him in person. Lord Donovan, you clearly look bored standing around and speaking politics. Take your men and ride for Wolf’s Den, inform the Greystark’s that we will require their assistance when we lay siege on Moat Cailin. No doubt once you have rallied them we will be on our way there.” Lord Donovan smirked, like Ian had read his mind.
“As you say, General.” He nodded and left the tent. Ian turned to Barton.
“Lord Barton. I would ask that your brother, Jorun, would accompany me to Barrowton. If you would find him and anymore suitable men to act as an escort guard.” Lord Barton stared Ian in the eyes, though obeyed his orders after a long uneasy moment. Lord Barrock stood forward, his hands clasped behind his back.
“What would you have me do, General Morland?” Ian rested his arms on his desk.
“You know Lord Errald better than any of us, I would have you join me.” Ian turned to Brandon. “And your grace as well, if it would suit.” Brandon nodded, Lady Trysta crossed her arms.
“Forgotten about your favourite woman, General?” Ian smiled and shook his head.
“No, my lady. You will hold this outpost until we return. If we don’t in the next three hours, you have the King’s permission to lay siege on Barrowton.” Lady Trysta raised her eyebrows.
“I see why King Benjen made a southerner the general of his army. Quite the sweet talker, aren’t you?” Before Ian had a chance to reply, Trysta was already out of the tent. He sighed and turned to Brandon and Lord Barrock.
“You have thirty minutes to get everything you need, then we ride for Barrowton.” The two men nodded and left the tent, leaving Ian alone.
Ian groaned and reclined in his wooden chair, resting his eyes for a moment.
-
The sky was calm and clear, displaying a bright blue that looked as if Ian were staring into the sea. The weather was odd for the Stormlands, often the sky was cloud covered and regular with storms and showers, though this day was as peaceful as it was irregular. Ian sat with his beautiful wife, relaxed and calm. Her beautiful hair fell down to her mid-waist, with mild curls. It was a light brown, which their son - Lucas - had inherited. Ian watched Lucas played in the short green grass, chasing butterflies with his friends. Everything was at it’s most beautiful, until the storm clouds rolled in from the east. Ian felt himself being pulled away from his family, watching as their screams of joy and happiness turned to screams of terror and pain.
Ian found himself in the hall of his father’s small castle, Scratch in his hand. At the end of the hall sat his father, Lord Darren Morland, whose age had taken it’s toll on him. Ian smiled, like it had been years since he had seen him, and approached him. He watched as his father stood from his seat, his arms extended to accept Ian in an embrace. As Ian approached, he watched as his father was cut down by his bastard brother, Rickard.
“NO!” Ian clenched Scratch, veins in his hand starting to burst. Rickard Storm swung his bastard sword down at Ian, who parried the attack.
“Give me that sword, brother!” Rickard yelled, anger and madness showing itself in his tone of voice. He swung his sword at Ian’s shins, at which he only just managed to deflect. He turned to his bitter half brother.
“You’re no brother of mine!” He yelled, shortly after receiving a blow to the end that knocked him down the stone steps that led to the seat his father one ruled in. Rickard descended, his bastard sword in his right hand.
“What’s the point of fighting? You’re finished. Your wife is dead, your son is dead. Our father is dead. I will have what is mine!” He swung his blade down, striking his metal against Ian’s. “I am a Morland, I am a Morland. Morland. Morland.”
-
“Morland!” Ian opened his eyes, in front of him stood Lady Trysta Glover. She sighed and walked around to his side.
“Apologies my lady, I must have rested my eyes for a while.” She nodded.
“Aye, it’s been half an hour. Lord Barrock and Brandon are waiting for you outside the camp.” Ian’s eyes widened, panic rushing over him.
Ian quickly stood from his chair, feeling his tired muscles slowly start to operate. He grabbed his cloak and Scratch, which rested against the desk, and sheathed it to his belt. When he turned to pass Trysta, she stood in his way. Ian felt her warm hands clasp his own, she stared at him with her wild and beautiful eyes. He sighed and freed his hands, watching as those enigmatic eyes became saddened and disappointed.
“I’m sorry, Lady Trysta, I just can’t.” He watched as a frown flashed across her face, though it was as quick to go as it had came. She nodded.
“I understand. Your men are waiting for you outside.” Ian nodded, avoiding eye contact. He walked passed her and to the entry of his pavilion. He turned his head back to her, though his eyes stared at the ground. He longed to say something, though the words did not come to him. He turned back and exited the tent, leaving her alone.
The sky was a moody blue, and the clouds ranging from orange to pink. The sun would set in the west soon enough, though Ian intended to be back long before that. Ian clipped the cloak onto his upper leather harness. The cloak itself was a slate blue, matching his new Stark general attire, though the pelt that covered his shoulders was dark grey.
Ian approached the men that waited outside the camp, there was a total number of seven men including Ian. Convenient. Ian thought to himself, referencing his faith. Lord Barrock Tallhart stood by his horse, beside Prince Brandon Stark. Beside Brandon stood Commander Wulfric Cale, head of King Benjen’s kingsguard and tasked with the protection of the prince. Next to Commander Wulfric stood a Stark archer, known as Casper Diamond. Casper was a young man, in his early twenties, who was not the friendliest of all men. His hair was short and auburn, which he spiked up to keep out of his slight tan green eyes. He was lean and thin, though it was apparent to Ian he had been working to change that. Beside him stood the boisterous Jorun ‘Bearclaw’ Mormont, a warm and cheery man who was known to be an excellent drinking companion. Jorun himself was a large man, who could easily crumple a man with his weight alone. He had deep blue eyes and a large black beard, over that he wore an iron helm which matched the rest of his iron armour. For weaponry he carried a sword and spear, and a shield which barely protects him though displays the sigil of his house. Finally, Ser Davos Storm, an exiled knight in service of King Durrandon.
Ian slipped on his leather gloves and mounted his horse that had been brought to him by Hendrik, his squire. Ian nodded to the boy, and turned back to the men who were to accompany him. Lord Barrock had mounted his black destrier, and Prince Brandon with his courser. Ian noticed Ser Davos was mounting a rousney, which was white with grey and black splodges. Ian cleared his throat.
“Alright, listen up. We’re heading into currently unsettled territory, so be on your guard. Casper Diamond and Ser Davos Storm are in charge or Lord Barrock’s safety, as Wulfric Cale and The Braun are in charge of Prince Brandon’s.” Ian noticed Jorun grin at the sound of his nickname. “We’ve wasted enough time, let’s ride.” The men all agreed and started their walk to Barrowton.
-
They had been under surveillance since they entered the gates of Barrowton, and were given an escort to the Barrow Hall. Now they stood outside the doors to the Barrow Hall, having a dispute with the guards.
“Your men will wait outside, Lord Errald will only see the prince, general, and Tallhart.” Commander Wulfric shook his head frustratedly.
“I swore an oath never to leave Brandon’s side, I won’t break that oath now.” The captain of the household guard shrugged.
“Then you are free to leave and take your army elsewhere.” Casper Diamond grabbed the hilt of his longsword, though Jorun Mormont grabbed the man’s forearm secretly. Ser Davos sat against a pillar, sharpening his longsword with a whetstone. As useful as I expected. Ian held up an extended open hand to Wulfric.
“It’s alright Commander, no harm will come to the prince. I’ll make sure of that.” Ian turned to the household captain. “We’ll abide to your rules.” The man smiled and beckoned for his men to open the doors.
Lord Barrock and Brandon hesitantly followed Ian into the Barrow Hall, turning back to their men who stood at the top of the wooden stairs that led to the doorway. The doors shut behind them, leaving them with no other option but to climb the short recurring series of steps which led to the seat of Lord Errald Dustin. He sat in the seat with a wolfish grin wide across his face, two of his guards stood by his side. He lifted his hands and clicked his fingers, and almost instantaneously servants came out of the doors on their left with bread and salt. The three men graciously accepted the small but generous meal, and the servants disappeared back into the room they had appeared from. Lord Errald’s grin turned to a smile.
“Welcome, to Barrowton. My lord, general and grace.” He eyed each of them up and down. “How can I assist the men who have camped their army on my lands?” Ian looked at the lord with examining eyes. He was young, perhaps only on his early twenties. Ian bowed his head.
“We have come to propose an alliance.” Ian said respectfully, and Brandon followed on.
“We are at war with the Bolton’s, and their allies. We believe with a force like yours at our side, we would surely secure an upper advantage over the Bolton’s.” Lord Errald nodded, a stern expression had shown itself to the three men.
“I see, though why would I wish to join a war which has nothing to do with me? Frankly, I’m rather disappointed with you, Lord Barrock. You knew my father far longer than any of the Starks.” Lord Barrock shook his head.
“Your father cowered behind these walls when the Stark’s called for his aid in their first war against the Bolton’s. Are you going to repeat your father’s cowardice?” Ian closed his eyes, wishing Lord Barrock had not have spoke. To his surprise, the lord took it rather well.
“If I am not mistaken, you too also hid behind your walls. Even drew your swords when the Stark’s came to propose such an alliance, I think I am much more gracious.” He said with a smile, tapping his fingers on the arm of his seat. “In any instance, the Bolton’s too requested my alliance so they could have access to the west. Though they never rode all the way just to speak to me in person.” Ian felt a shiver run down his spine. He was not aware that the Bolton’s had also tried to side with the Dustin’s. What if they have already secured an alliance? Ian felt his hand naturally gravitate to the hilt of his sword.
“And what did they offer you?” Brandon asked with curiosity, making Errald smile.
“What I wanted, to be bring the lineage of my past back to life. They would make me a Barrow King.” Brandon turned his gaze to Ian, raising his eyebrows like he intended this would happen. Ian sighed.
“My lord, I would highly suggest that declining the Bolton’s would be the wisest option.” Lord Errald turned his attention to Ian.
“Would you now. What could you give me which could beat the Bolton’s offer?” Ian felt his patience start to sap out of him. Lord Barrock spoke in Ian’s place.
“My lord, we would offer gold in return for your service to the kingdom.” Brandon also added on further.
“And more land, my lord.” Ian watched as Errald’s smiles turned to a wide grin which formed a laugh that echoed through the Barrow Hall.
“You want to buy me like a sellsword? If I needed gold, I would trade. If I needed land, I would invade.” An idea flashed through Ian’s mind.
“Well my lord, how about this. The Bolton’s have Lady Judith Stark somewhere in their cells in the Dreadfort, we intend to free her. Once the war is over, and she is safely back at Winterfell, the King will exchange her hand in marriage to you. You would be royally blood bound to the Starks, and would be given more power than you already have.” Ian saw Lord Errald raise an eyebrow to the offer.
“You have that kind of authority, to just offer his grace’s daughter to me?” Ian turned to the men beside him, Lord Barrock looked shocked, and Brandon angered. He turned back to Lord Errald.
“I lead the King’s army in his absence. All his power his bestowed to me.” Errald grinned, then nodded.
“Very well, I accept your deal, and your alliance.” Ian bowed in thanks, as did the men hesitantly beside him.
-
The seven rode back to the camp in silence, all aware of what Ian had chosen to do. When the stable boys ran to grab their steeds, Lady Trysta and Lord Barton had accompanied them. Ian dismounted his horse, not saying a word. He watched as Brandon dismounted his courser and stormed passed Lady Trysta and Lord Barton, Commander Wulfric Cale quickly following behind him. Lady Trysta turned with confused eyes.
“Brandon, what is wrong?” Brandon turned and spat at the ground.
“Ask King Ian.” He said with a menacing tone, before storming into his tent. Ian sighed and shook his head, walking over to Barton and Trysta, Barrock had joined them as well.
“What was that about?” Trysta asked with a curious yet somewhat demanding tone. Ian turned to Lord Barrock, who looked at him to explain.
“Follow me to my tent, this is a matter that needs to be talked about behind closed doors.” Ian walked passed the lords and lady towards his pavilion.
As he walked, he could hear the whispers and chatter between the three behind him, feel their gaze weigh heavily upon him. He regretted ever choosing to request the aid from the Dustin’s, it would now likely end with his head rolling on the floor, disconnected from his shoulders. Ian opened the flap to his pavilion, allowing the three to enter first. He finally entered and made sure the flap door was not going to swing open randomly. Making his way to his desk, he chose to ignore a chair and leant against the wooden table. The three stood there staring at him.
“So, are you going to explain or are we going to have to ask the Tallhart?” Barton asked, his voice deep and croaky. Ian sighed.
“Brandon was right, all the Dustins want is royalty. Turns out the Bolton’s were going to give that to them if they accepted their alliance in the war.” Lady Trysta looked at him with eyes that begged for him to continue. “So in order for us to secure an alliance, I offered Lady Judith’s hand in marriage once we rescue her.” Ian watched Barton’s jaw drop, and Trysta’s eyes widen.
“You did what?” Barton asked, clearly in disbelief. Ian nodded, Lord Barrock sighed.
“The main thing is that we now have the Dustin army, and the Umber’s will return with the Greystark’s soon enough.” Lord Barton nodded but clearly not in agreement.
“Aye, we have the bloody Dustin’s. Though at what cost?” Ian remained silent, he figured his words would not protect him now. “The King has to know about this.” Ian lifted his gaze from the floor to Lord Barton. Lady Trysta nodded in agreement.
“Better by your hand than Prince Brandon’s.” Lord Barrock grunted.
“Apologies my lady, but the boy should’ve seen it coming. He’s only angry that Ian made the arrangement and not his father.” Lady Trysta shrugged.
“Aye, but nonetheless he will tell his father unless we get a raven to him first.” Barrock shook his head.
“Or not at all. We could place the ravenry on lockdown, Brandon won’t be able to send anything then. Besides, we don’t even know if Errald will even stay true to his deal. I’ve lived on these lands long enough to know that little spoilt fuck always changes his mind.” Ian looked to Lord Barrock with curious eyes.
“You’re saying he could betray us?” Barrock shrugged.
“If his interests changed. If that were to happen, or if he were to fall in battle. Why should we worry or anger the King over something that would no longer be a bother to us?” Ian turned to Barton, who had been silent.
“Your thoughts, Lord Barton?” The man sighed.
“Apologies General, though I think it would be wrong to keep the king uninformed.” Ian nodded.
He understood how much worse the punishment would be if Errald did stay true to his deal, and if the king was unaware. Nonetheless, it was possible that Errald would indeed change his mind or even fall in battle. Ian rested his head in his hands, he still wore his dark leather gloves. I can’t risk Brandon sending a raven if I choose not to send one myself.
[Don’t send a raven - lock down the ravenry] [Send a raven]
Alright, I'll close this vote. Julie will choose to join Gendel and Gorne and will recommend Skagard to accompany them.
Personally, I think this is the best choice as it leads to a much more important story for Julie. Now she will be helping the two soon to be King's Beyond the Wall to rally and unite the Free folk, and we will no doubt see more of the Ice Rivers with her tagging along.
[Send a raven]
[Send a raven]
[Send a raven]
The king has to know and the king will know, sooner or later. If Ian does not tell him, Brandon will. At worst, Brandon will tell him when he sees his father the next time and it is likely that things will get even worse in such a case. Hell, I'm sure the king expects at least a raven with some message containing his progress with the Dustins, so if this raven does not arrive, he could get suspicious of Ian. At worst, he may even come to the conclusion that Ian is plotting against him, which is a more likely conclusion if Ian keeps secrets from him.
[Send a raven] Such a decision should be heard by the king .If he was to not send it , i don't think Morland would've stayed General this long .
By the way i just love the way you described Jorun " and a shield which barely protects him" , i laughed my ass off ^^