Lyria
Lyria looked on as Wolfius went down the alleyway. His lean silhouette almost seemed to merge with the shadows of the buildings aro… moreund him as he walked down the city. From the moment she accepted his offer, she knew that what she was doing was shady business. But the more than generous offer made up for this. But a dagger with the sigil of House Hoare was something different! Lyria felt used, betrayed and more than that, she felt guilty. An Ironborn weapon! Does that mean that Wolfius was working for Harren Hoare? He didn't look like an Ironborn, yet looks could be deceiving. His pale skin hinted at a northern heritage, yet his blonde hair was more common in the Riverlands. Regardless, she had to report him to the city guard. She wouldn't cover one of Harren Hoare's men. As she looked back to where he was walking, she could hardly make him out amid the shadows.
With quick and determined steps, Lyria started to walk down the path t… [view original content]
Lyria
Lyria looked on as Wolfius went down the alleyway. His lean silhouette almost seemed to merge with the shadows of the buildings aro… moreund him as he walked down the city. From the moment she accepted his offer, she knew that what she was doing was shady business. But the more than generous offer made up for this. But a dagger with the sigil of House Hoare was something different! Lyria felt used, betrayed and more than that, she felt guilty. An Ironborn weapon! Does that mean that Wolfius was working for Harren Hoare? He didn't look like an Ironborn, yet looks could be deceiving. His pale skin hinted at a northern heritage, yet his blonde hair was more common in the Riverlands. Regardless, she had to report him to the city guard. She wouldn't cover one of Harren Hoare's men. As she looked back to where he was walking, she could hardly make him out amid the shadows.
With quick and determined steps, Lyria started to walk down the path t… [view original content]
Garthon and George will stay a night at the tavern
I'll try my best to put the new part up today or early tomorrow. Unfortunately, I had to rewrite half of the stuff I've written yesterday, since it simply wasn't as good as I want it to be. That means there is still some work to be done on the part, so I don't know if I manage to finish it today.
The character i submited ser Rodrik Stone i said he was a officer in the windblown Company but when i was on the wiki today i saw that the Company had not been founded during that time.So if you want to ignore my character because of that it´s okay but if you have use of him have him be a officer in the Bright banners instead.
The character i submited ser Rodrik Stone i said he was a officer in the windblown Company but when i was on the wiki today i saw that the C… moreompany had not been founded during that time.So if you want to ignore my character because of that it´s okay but if you have use of him have him be a officer in the Bright banners instead.
Quick update: I'm very positive that I'll be able to put the next part up today. First PoV is finished and I still have a few hours to finish the second one as well, so if nothing strange is going to happen, the part will be up in the next 4 hours.
On another note, I'm writing this because I haven't given you the hospitality... ahem, the shout-out you deserve! And there is one story that is going to start pretty soon, so forgive me my unscheduled shoutout.
I don't know how many of you are into the Hunger Games. It's actually a pretty awesome idea for an interactive story if you think about it, don't you agree? Well, there is already one extremely successful Hunger Games fanfiction going on, but there will be another one starting pretty soon. This new Hunger Games fanfiction will be written by @ayylmao. It hasn't started yet, since it will only start after the character submission is closed, but I figured, maybe one or two of you want to join before it is too late. There are seven open spots as I am writing this. If it is similar to the ongoing Hunger Games fanfiction, it will be absolutely awesome and well worth your time. And at least I am convinced that it is going to be awesome, or else I wouldn't do this unscheduled shout-out. Check it out here
Richard looked down the path that lead to Roman's farm. No, he could not risk this. Roman was not a bad person, but he held a grudge against Richard, on top of being an ignorant fool who had a problem with sticking to his own land. Besides, like Richard, Roman was no warrior and unlike Richard he was neither tall or muscular. Two hours of walking would not be worth it, even if he would be able to convince Roman of his problems.
He looked at his farm, at the building he had build with his own hands. He knew every corner of it and he would use this to his advantage. The building itself was located with the forest to it's backside, with a small shed to it's left, where Richard kept some tools. As silent as his wounded leg allowed, Richard crouched up to the building. The shed. He needed to get to the shed. Needed to get some sort of weapon. Pain flashed through his wounded leg as he laid stress on it, but he kept ignoring it. He had no time to rest. Jenna was in danger, if not dead already. Wolfius was somewhere out there, maybe even in his house. His house! He had built it for his family, in better times. Wolfius had no right to defile it with his presence!
More angry than he had ever been in his life, Richard reached the shed. It wasn't locked, he rarely locked it when simply going to the town for one evening... but now it had been open for five days. He opened the door and with a quick look he saw that it hadn't been looted. Not exactly. It had been searched. Someone had thrown the tools to the ground and thoroughly rummaged through his few belongings. Richard looked down on the ground and saw his axe. Normally he would cut firewood with it. But not now... He knew he should be able to split a skull with it. The question was, would
he be able to do it? Richard had never killed another man. Sure, he had been into his fair share of brawls. Once he had broken a man's nose. But he had never killed someone. “It will be easy”, Richard mumbled. “It will be easy”
He left the shack and moved towards the backside of his house. The windows there were built high, so he didn't need to crouch that much to remain unseen. And there was a backdoor, a freshly oiled backdoor. Richard crouched up to the backdoor, ignoring the horrible pain in his leg. Yes, after this day he would gladly rest for a whole week, if not longer. Luckily the bone wasn't broken or else he wouldn't be able to walk at all, but the damage done to the flesh of his lower leg was bad enough already.
The door opened without a noise and Richard let out a small grin. That went well! He grabbed the axe tighter and stepped inside his living room, suppressing a pained sigh as he looked over the room in complete disarray. Nothing was missing from what he could see, but it was clear that somebody had been looking for something. The drawers in his small cupboard were open, the large chest in the corner of the room had been searched. A noise got Richards attention. Somebody was still there, somebody was still looking for something in his house. The noise came from his bedroom, the second largest room in the house, located to his right. The door was wide open as Richard sneaked up on it.
“Fuck... Fuck here has to be something. Come on man, don't leave me hanging...”, Richard heard someone mumble. He looked into the room and saw someone, a lean man with short brown hair, who had his back turned on Richard and was leaning over Richard's private chest, searching through his belongings. That was not Wolfius, that was simply a common intruder, a thief maybe. Still, Richard felt anger inside of him. He was gone for five days and some asshole was already searching through his belongings... Richard started to sneak up on the man, gripping his axe slightly looser. He would not kill him, but he would smash his teeth and break his nose. He would not kill him. He would not...
A sudden and extreme flash of pain exploded in his leg as he made an unwary step, putting far too much weight on his damaged leg. A scream of pain forced it's way out of his throat as he fell down on the ground, the axe landing next to him with a loud noise. He heard a surprised outcry as he was still facing the ground, breathing heavily. He heard footsteps nearing and managed to slightly pull himself up, seeing the legs of the man who broke into his house.
“Richard?”, the man asked. The voice sounded familiar now. Too familiar... No! No, that was impossible! Why would he...? Richard forced himself to get up enough so that he was able to look the man in the face. For one moment he was frozen in shock. The face he was looking into was his own. Younger, clean-shaven, slightly longer, with a crooked smile and overly confident brown eyes. But the similarity to his own face was almost uncanny. The man in front of him was his brother!
“A... Alan”, Richard mumbled in shock, finally getting up again. In front of him stood Alan Harking, his younger brother. A man who had taken so much from him. His brother. His best friend in childhood. A man he wanted to kill for a short time. Alan gave him a wide, sleazy smile. “Richard!”, he exclaimed, stepping forwards and pulling him into a tight hug. “Brother!”, he exclaimed again and Richard let out a pained moan as he was forced to put weight on his damaged leg. Alan let go of him and looked at him with a wide grin. “I thought you weren't here. I called. I waited several minutes. Oh Richard, this is wonderful!”, he chuckled and finally noticed the look of pure anger in Richard's face. “Richard? Is someth...”, he started, but was cut off by Richard punching him in the face. The punch was strong enough to make Alan fall to the ground, Richard standing above him, trembling with anger, trembling with relief.
“Ouch. Seven fucking Hells, my nose!”, Alan moaned as he was getting up on his feet again. “What was that for?”, he asked as Richard stepped forwards again, this time to pull his brother into a hug. “What are you doing here, Alan?”, Richard asked, for a moment forgetting everything that had been between them. For one moment he was simply a brother again, a brother who just met one of the few family members he had still left. His younger brother, his worst enemy for so many years, a man who had taken so much from him and gave him so few. His brother...
As he looked at Alan, he saw that his brother was smiling too. Blood was running down his nose and he was clearly in pain, but he was smiling too. “Gods, I probably deserved that, right?”, Alan asked, before looking down. “Damn it Richard, what happened to your leg?”, he asked. Richard shook his head. “Long story, Alan”, he answered and sat down in his bed. “You first. What are you doing here? Why were you searching through my belongings?”
Alan sat down next to him letting out a small laugh. “Mother have mercy, all these years... I was passing through, saw your house. I wanted to see how you're doing, brother”, he answered. Alan was a compulsive liar, one of the hardest lessons in Richard's life had consisted of finding this out. And now he was good at spotting his brother's lies. The small ones, the big ones. The ones he just told for fun, the ones he told with the intention to trick others, to cheat, to steal. “Alan...”, he said with a stern voice and his brother slightly shivered for a moment.
“Okay... okay, you got me. I wasn't just passing through... I mean, I really want to see how you're living now, brother, I really do. I mean... how's your wife? Erna, wasn't it?”, Alan answered and Richard narrowed his eyes. “Elma...”, he hissed and Alan gave him a slight nod. “Yes, yes, Irma, of course. Anyway, how is she?”, he answered and Richard suppressed the urge of punching him again. “She is dead”, he muttered. “Starved to death, because we had no money for food!” His voice got sharper and he glared at Alan.
It was hard to tell when Alan was truly serious, but for one moment he seemed genuinely saddened. “Listen Richard... I never wanted...”, he mumbled, before stopping. “I am sorry, brother. I truly am” Richard could tell that he was at least half serious. Now, that was a start. Richard was a family man. There was a time in which he and Alan were truly close. This time was long gone and Richard was sure it would never come back. But still... family was family. “What are you doing here, Alan?”, he asked again.
For one moment, Alan seemed a bit helpless. “I didn't knew where else I should go, brother”, he answered and Richard gave him a surprised look. “But... the money, Alan. All the money...”, he mumbled and Alan avoided his stare. “I made a few bad decisions. A deal gone bad. I owed a few very nasty people a very large sum of money. It is gone...”, he muttered and Richard had to seriously suppress the urge to beat his brother senseless. The money! All the money that had rightfully been his, until Alan came along. Sure it hadn't been Alan alone. Other relatives were involved, other relatives who probably convinced him. But it had mainly been his fault. All the money... There were days in which Richard could only imagine how his life would have turned out, if it weren't for Alan, who took it all away. Elma would still be alive... Maybe his sons would be at home. Jenna wouldn't need to work for this terrible housekeeper. For one moment, Richard Harking was genuinely devastated.
Alan looked at him, apparently genuinely sorrowful. “Listen Richard, I'm sorry. I never meant for this to happen... But I need your help”, he pleaded and Richard looked up, looked him right in the eyes. “My help...”, he hissed. “You need my help?” He couldn't help, a sad smile appeared on his face. This was irony. A tragic form of irony. Alan took everything from him. Even though he wasn't evil, he was indirectly responsible for everything that happened. And now he wanted his help. His brother looked almost hopeful. “Yes! Yes, brother, please. I have nowhere else to go. It's only for a few weeks. Until I found work. Until I'll be able to sleep somewhere else. Listen, Richard, I know this is awkward. I did a terrible thing and now I need your help. You have every right to be angry. But can you turn your back on me, your little brother? I did a mistake. I did plenty of mistakes. But, Richard, I am a changed man. Let me prove it. I know, I can never give you back what you have lost. But I can help you. I mean, look at your leg. I can work for you, on the fields, like I did in the good old days!”, he pleaded with a hasty voice.
The good old days! These days had never been. Looking back on it, it had always been Alan doing something to screw over everything and everyone. But Richard hadn't seen it back then. There was a time in which he and Alan have been genuine friends and part of Richard still wanted this times back. Part of Richard wanted to believe this obvious lie his brother was telling. Part of Richard wanted to kill him for everything that happened. But there was one thing Alan was right with. Richard wasn't able to turn his back on Alan. No matter what happened, Alan was family. And family was something he couldn't choose. He had to help him.
“You can stay in the shack”, Richard answered and his brother gave him a hug. “Oh, Richard, brother, thank you! You are a good man, a just man. I knew I could count on you!”, Alan shouted and Richard had to push him away. “Only until you've found something else”, he insisted and Alan gave him a nod. “Only until I've found something else!”
Alan clapped his hands. “Yes, brother! You won't regret it, I promise!”, he said. Richard already regretted it. “What were you doing here, Alan?”, he asked. He already knew the answer, but he wanted to hear it from Alan. He wanted to hear that Alan tried to steal from him again. Alan gulped. “Like I said, I needed your help. So I went to your house. I knocked. I waited. I called everyone. Your neighbour, this Roman fellow, he passed through and told me that he hasn't seen you for a few days... so I assumed you were gone for a while”, he explained, looking a bit helpless for a moment. “So, I let myself in. I still knew a few tricks. I wanted to look if you have... you know anything of value. I would have brought it back! I have an idea, a plan if you want to say. It's a sure thing. I will be rich again. And I would have paid you back!”, he explained. Richard looked at him, furious, unable to say anything. “You would have stolen from me... again”, he mumbled and Alan shook his head. “Only borrowed! It's not stealing if you intend to give it back, brother!”, he answered with a weak voice.
Richard's gaze fell on the long bundle leaning on the wall. His father's sword. He looked at Alan and Alan looked back, his face suddenly pale. “No... Oh no, please brother, you can't mean to... That would be kinslaying! You can't seriously mean to... I am your brother!”, he stuttered. But that wasn't what Richard had in mind.
His brother was lean, someone who had never worked for anything his whole life. But he was healthy. He could help. He wasn't ideal, but he was the only one available. “Alan...”, Richard said sternly and his brother's smile faded. “You are an asshole and believe me that I would gladly break your legs for everything you did. I'm letting you stay here and you will be working for me. That does not mean that I will forget or forgive. What you did can't be forgiven. But you can make amends for it. I need you to do something for me”, Richard said and Alan looked at him, almost eager to help. “Everything, Richard!”, he exclaimed. “Just name it and I will do it for you! I know, you are angry and I know you have every right to be. I know you will never forgive me and I don't even expect this. I am a changed man and I want to make amends. Tell me what needs to be done!”
Richard looked at his brother. Alan was unreliable, he had always been unreliable. But he had also always been fond of Jenna, at least in the few short years he had known her. Alan was not a bad person at heart, he was just greedy and selfish and he acted without thinking what this would mean for others. Richard could never forgive him, he would never forgive him. But he was willing to let him make amends. He was willing to accept that his brother was indeed able to change.
“Lot's of things happened, brother”, he explained. “Jenna is working at the castle now” This gave Alan a bright smile. “Little Jenna? I always knew she would make it far! She is her uncle's niece”, he grinned and Richard shook his head. “She is nothing like you, Alan. She is gentle, genuinely friendly and she is willing to put the interests of others first”, he hissed and Alan looked slightly insulted. Before his brother could say anything, Richard continued.
“The people who did this to me”, he said and pointed on his damaged leg. “These people have plans here in the city. One of them is a man who goes by the name of Wolfius Woodbark” Alan raised an eyebrow. “Come on Richard, now you're kidding me. That is not his true name. Trust me, I have experience with fake names”, he said and Richard shrugged. “I don't care if it is his real name or not. He is dangerous. Deadly dangerous. He murdered a young girl, likely without any provocation. He is a killer and a beast and a man we should fear”, he explained.
Alan looked a bit unsure for a moment. “This... Wolfius, he did this to you?”, he asked. “I mean... your leg. And your face. That looked pretty serious. Is he that dangerous? I mean, you're so strong...”, he muttered. Richard gave him a slight smile. “Strength does not mean anything when your opponent cheats. He had friends with him, associates of some sort. One of them had a crossbow and shot me in the leg”, he answered.
Alan almost jumped. “Crossbow? I hate fucking crossbows!”, he exclaimed, breathing heavily. Richard could not blame him, not this time. Alan was afraid. And to be honest, Richard was afraid too. But it wasn't his own life he was afraid of.
“Another associate of Wolfius, a young woman did this to my face. She beat me up and left me to die. I spent the last week in the company of a madman, lying barely conscious under a bridge. And for some miracle, my leg is not broken”, he explained but stopped as he saw Alan giving him a wide grin. “What is it?”, Richard asked, slightly irritated.
“A girl beat you up. A girl...”, he giggled, but quickly stopped as Richard gave him a furious glare. “A trained killer, apparently”, he hissed and Alan gave him a sarcastic nod. “Sure. Trained killer. If you say so... a girl”, he chuckled and Richard decided that any further explanation would be pointless.
“The last thing I've heard before loosing consciousness was Wolfius mocking me. He told me he would kill Jenna. And I believe he is going to target her soon”, he explained and saw Alan's face getting serious again. “He wants to kill Jenna? But... why?”, he stuttered. “My sweet niece, getting targeted by some deranged killer...”
Richard forced himself to stand up. The pain in his leg was almost bearable again. He was able to walk, yes, he was able to fight. He had to be careful of course, but he knew he was stronger than Wolfius. He would only need to strike him once to kill him. It would be possible. “I am going to the castle. I have to warn Jenna. I have to warn the acting lord and the commander of the city guard. I know where Wolfius is hiding and I know what he did”, he said and looked at Alan. “And I'm going to need your help, little brother”
Alan's face got pale as he opened his eyes in shock. “My help? You just said they have crossbows! Do you really need my help?”, he stuttered and Richard rolled with his eyes. His brother was a coward when it came to things like this! “Yes, Alan, I need your help!”, he hissed. “For everything you did, for Jenna, I will need your help”
With these words he grabbed the long bundle at the wall. His father's sword... He had never really used it. He was no warrior. His father had been a soldier, a man of respect and wealth. A hero of war. But Richard was not a soldier. He was just a farmer, just a father. But right now, in this place, being a father was worth more than ten soldiers. Nothing could stop him now, not from what he was going to do! There had been many people who screwed him over in his life. Alan had been one of the worst. But Wolfius... he was even worse. He stepped into his life with no regards for anything, he destroyed and murdered just like he wanted. He killed that poor girl on the streets and now he would target Jenna. Just to please his sick pleasure... How could he dare? How could he dare!
The sword felt good in his hands. Cold, valuable steel. One of the few belongings he had left from his father. The only thing he could never sell. It wasn't a very elegant weapon, not worthy of a knight, but more than worthy of a simple farmer. His father had always kept it sharp and after his death, Richard continued with this tradition. It was a weapon ready to kill.
Richard looked back at Alan. “We are going to the castle, together. We will help Jenna, you and I. Together, like in the good old times. You will help me!”, he ordered and Alan looked at him, completely helpless.
“But... but... crossbows...”, he stuttered. “I can't help you with this, Richard. I am weak, I am not a fighter. I would only slow you down. Leave me here. I will tidy up your house. I will help you, but I can't fight for you. Please, brother, you can't demand that from me...”, he pleaded.
Richard looked at his cowardly brother. He couldn't demand that from him? He was the one holding the sword! But would Alan really be a help?
[Force Alan to help you][Leave Alan behind and go to the castle alone]
Richard
Richard looked down the path that lead to Roman's farm. No, he could not risk this. Roman was not a bad person, but he held a gru… moredge against Richard, on top of being an ignorant fool who had a problem with sticking to his own land. Besides, like Richard, Roman was no warrior and unlike Richard he was neither tall or muscular. Two hours of walking would not be worth it, even if he would be able to convince Roman of his problems.
He looked at his farm, at the building he had build with his own hands. He knew every corner of it and he would use this to his advantage. The building itself was located with the forest to it's backside, with a small shed to it's left, where Richard kept some tools. As silent as his wounded leg allowed, Richard crouched up to the building. The shed. He needed to get to the shed. Needed to get some sort of weapon. Pain flashed through his wounded leg as he laid stress on it, but he kept ignoring it. He ha… [view original content]
Richard
Richard looked down the path that lead to Roman's farm. No, he could not risk this. Roman was not a bad person, but he held a gru… moredge against Richard, on top of being an ignorant fool who had a problem with sticking to his own land. Besides, like Richard, Roman was no warrior and unlike Richard he was neither tall or muscular. Two hours of walking would not be worth it, even if he would be able to convince Roman of his problems.
He looked at his farm, at the building he had build with his own hands. He knew every corner of it and he would use this to his advantage. The building itself was located with the forest to it's backside, with a small shed to it's left, where Richard kept some tools. As silent as his wounded leg allowed, Richard crouched up to the building. The shed. He needed to get to the shed. Needed to get some sort of weapon. Pain flashed through his wounded leg as he laid stress on it, but he kept ignoring it. He ha… [view original content]
Richard
Richard looked down the path that lead to Roman's farm. No, he could not risk this. Roman was not a bad person, but he held a gru… moredge against Richard, on top of being an ignorant fool who had a problem with sticking to his own land. Besides, like Richard, Roman was no warrior and unlike Richard he was neither tall or muscular. Two hours of walking would not be worth it, even if he would be able to convince Roman of his problems.
He looked at his farm, at the building he had build with his own hands. He knew every corner of it and he would use this to his advantage. The building itself was located with the forest to it's backside, with a small shed to it's left, where Richard kept some tools. As silent as his wounded leg allowed, Richard crouched up to the building. The shed. He needed to get to the shed. Needed to get some sort of weapon. Pain flashed through his wounded leg as he laid stress on it, but he kept ignoring it. He ha… [view original content]
Richard
Richard looked down the path that lead to Roman's farm. No, he could not risk this. Roman was not a bad person, but he held a gru… moredge against Richard, on top of being an ignorant fool who had a problem with sticking to his own land. Besides, like Richard, Roman was no warrior and unlike Richard he was neither tall or muscular. Two hours of walking would not be worth it, even if he would be able to convince Roman of his problems.
He looked at his farm, at the building he had build with his own hands. He knew every corner of it and he would use this to his advantage. The building itself was located with the forest to it's backside, with a small shed to it's left, where Richard kept some tools. As silent as his wounded leg allowed, Richard crouched up to the building. The shed. He needed to get to the shed. Needed to get some sort of weapon. Pain flashed through his wounded leg as he laid stress on it, but he kept ignoring it. He ha… [view original content]
Richard
Richard looked down the path that lead to Roman's farm. No, he could not risk this. Roman was not a bad person, but he held a gru… moredge against Richard, on top of being an ignorant fool who had a problem with sticking to his own land. Besides, like Richard, Roman was no warrior and unlike Richard he was neither tall or muscular. Two hours of walking would not be worth it, even if he would be able to convince Roman of his problems.
He looked at his farm, at the building he had build with his own hands. He knew every corner of it and he would use this to his advantage. The building itself was located with the forest to it's backside, with a small shed to it's left, where Richard kept some tools. As silent as his wounded leg allowed, Richard crouched up to the building. The shed. He needed to get to the shed. Needed to get some sort of weapon. Pain flashed through his wounded leg as he laid stress on it, but he kept ignoring it. He ha… [view original content]
Richard
Richard looked down the path that lead to Roman's farm. No, he could not risk this. Roman was not a bad person, but he held a gru… moredge against Richard, on top of being an ignorant fool who had a problem with sticking to his own land. Besides, like Richard, Roman was no warrior and unlike Richard he was neither tall or muscular. Two hours of walking would not be worth it, even if he would be able to convince Roman of his problems.
He looked at his farm, at the building he had build with his own hands. He knew every corner of it and he would use this to his advantage. The building itself was located with the forest to it's backside, with a small shed to it's left, where Richard kept some tools. As silent as his wounded leg allowed, Richard crouched up to the building. The shed. He needed to get to the shed. Needed to get some sort of weapon. Pain flashed through his wounded leg as he laid stress on it, but he kept ignoring it. He ha… [view original content]
Richard
Richard looked down the path that lead to Roman's farm. No, he could not risk this. Roman was not a bad person, but he held a gru… moredge against Richard, on top of being an ignorant fool who had a problem with sticking to his own land. Besides, like Richard, Roman was no warrior and unlike Richard he was neither tall or muscular. Two hours of walking would not be worth it, even if he would be able to convince Roman of his problems.
He looked at his farm, at the building he had build with his own hands. He knew every corner of it and he would use this to his advantage. The building itself was located with the forest to it's backside, with a small shed to it's left, where Richard kept some tools. As silent as his wounded leg allowed, Richard crouched up to the building. The shed. He needed to get to the shed. Needed to get some sort of weapon. Pain flashed through his wounded leg as he laid stress on it, but he kept ignoring it. He ha… [view original content]
Richard
Richard looked down the path that lead to Roman's farm. No, he could not risk this. Roman was not a bad person, but he held a gru… moredge against Richard, on top of being an ignorant fool who had a problem with sticking to his own land. Besides, like Richard, Roman was no warrior and unlike Richard he was neither tall or muscular. Two hours of walking would not be worth it, even if he would be able to convince Roman of his problems.
He looked at his farm, at the building he had build with his own hands. He knew every corner of it and he would use this to his advantage. The building itself was located with the forest to it's backside, with a small shed to it's left, where Richard kept some tools. As silent as his wounded leg allowed, Richard crouched up to the building. The shed. He needed to get to the shed. Needed to get some sort of weapon. Pain flashed through his wounded leg as he laid stress on it, but he kept ignoring it. He ha… [view original content]
Richard
Richard looked down the path that lead to Roman's farm. No, he could not risk this. Roman was not a bad person, but he held a gru… moredge against Richard, on top of being an ignorant fool who had a problem with sticking to his own land. Besides, like Richard, Roman was no warrior and unlike Richard he was neither tall or muscular. Two hours of walking would not be worth it, even if he would be able to convince Roman of his problems.
He looked at his farm, at the building he had build with his own hands. He knew every corner of it and he would use this to his advantage. The building itself was located with the forest to it's backside, with a small shed to it's left, where Richard kept some tools. As silent as his wounded leg allowed, Richard crouched up to the building. The shed. He needed to get to the shed. Needed to get some sort of weapon. Pain flashed through his wounded leg as he laid stress on it, but he kept ignoring it. He ha… [view original content]
Richard
Richard looked down the path that lead to Roman's farm. No, he could not risk this. Roman was not a bad person, but he held a gru… moredge against Richard, on top of being an ignorant fool who had a problem with sticking to his own land. Besides, like Richard, Roman was no warrior and unlike Richard he was neither tall or muscular. Two hours of walking would not be worth it, even if he would be able to convince Roman of his problems.
He looked at his farm, at the building he had build with his own hands. He knew every corner of it and he would use this to his advantage. The building itself was located with the forest to it's backside, with a small shed to it's left, where Richard kept some tools. As silent as his wounded leg allowed, Richard crouched up to the building. The shed. He needed to get to the shed. Needed to get some sort of weapon. Pain flashed through his wounded leg as he laid stress on it, but he kept ignoring it. He ha… [view original content]
Richard
Richard looked down the path that lead to Roman's farm. No, he could not risk this. Roman was not a bad person, but he held a gru… moredge against Richard, on top of being an ignorant fool who had a problem with sticking to his own land. Besides, like Richard, Roman was no warrior and unlike Richard he was neither tall or muscular. Two hours of walking would not be worth it, even if he would be able to convince Roman of his problems.
He looked at his farm, at the building he had build with his own hands. He knew every corner of it and he would use this to his advantage. The building itself was located with the forest to it's backside, with a small shed to it's left, where Richard kept some tools. As silent as his wounded leg allowed, Richard crouched up to the building. The shed. He needed to get to the shed. Needed to get some sort of weapon. Pain flashed through his wounded leg as he laid stress on it, but he kept ignoring it. He ha… [view original content]
Richard
Richard looked down the path that lead to Roman's farm. No, he could not risk this. Roman was not a bad person, but he held a gru… moredge against Richard, on top of being an ignorant fool who had a problem with sticking to his own land. Besides, like Richard, Roman was no warrior and unlike Richard he was neither tall or muscular. Two hours of walking would not be worth it, even if he would be able to convince Roman of his problems.
He looked at his farm, at the building he had build with his own hands. He knew every corner of it and he would use this to his advantage. The building itself was located with the forest to it's backside, with a small shed to it's left, where Richard kept some tools. As silent as his wounded leg allowed, Richard crouched up to the building. The shed. He needed to get to the shed. Needed to get some sort of weapon. Pain flashed through his wounded leg as he laid stress on it, but he kept ignoring it. He ha… [view original content]
Richard
Richard looked down the path that lead to Roman's farm. No, he could not risk this. Roman was not a bad person, but he held a gru… moredge against Richard, on top of being an ignorant fool who had a problem with sticking to his own land. Besides, like Richard, Roman was no warrior and unlike Richard he was neither tall or muscular. Two hours of walking would not be worth it, even if he would be able to convince Roman of his problems.
He looked at his farm, at the building he had build with his own hands. He knew every corner of it and he would use this to his advantage. The building itself was located with the forest to it's backside, with a small shed to it's left, where Richard kept some tools. As silent as his wounded leg allowed, Richard crouched up to the building. The shed. He needed to get to the shed. Needed to get some sort of weapon. Pain flashed through his wounded leg as he laid stress on it, but he kept ignoring it. He ha… [view original content]
[Leave Alan behind and go to the castle alone]
It's not gonna win, so who cares.
@SuperChocoLatte , WE DID IT! ALAN HAS FINALLY ARRIVED! HIS MASTER SKILLS OF SWOOPING WILL DEVESTATE ALL WITHIN WESTEROS! #AlanForTheIronThrone
We should make a non-canon series where the Harkings become badass warrior pimps, and destroy every major house until they become the one and only house in Westeros.
Richard
Richard looked down the path that lead to Roman's farm. No, he could not risk this. Roman was not a bad person, but he held a gru… moredge against Richard, on top of being an ignorant fool who had a problem with sticking to his own land. Besides, like Richard, Roman was no warrior and unlike Richard he was neither tall or muscular. Two hours of walking would not be worth it, even if he would be able to convince Roman of his problems.
He looked at his farm, at the building he had build with his own hands. He knew every corner of it and he would use this to his advantage. The building itself was located with the forest to it's backside, with a small shed to it's left, where Richard kept some tools. As silent as his wounded leg allowed, Richard crouched up to the building. The shed. He needed to get to the shed. Needed to get some sort of weapon. Pain flashed through his wounded leg as he laid stress on it, but he kept ignoring it. He ha… [view original content]
We should make a non-canon series where the Harkings become badass warrior pimps, and destroy every major house until they become the one and only house in Westeros.
We should make a non-canon series where the Harkings become badass warrior pimps, and destroy every major house until they become the one and only house in Westeros.
Richard
Richard looked down the path that lead to Roman's farm. No, he could not risk this. Roman was not a bad person, but he held a gru… moredge against Richard, on top of being an ignorant fool who had a problem with sticking to his own land. Besides, like Richard, Roman was no warrior and unlike Richard he was neither tall or muscular. Two hours of walking would not be worth it, even if he would be able to convince Roman of his problems.
He looked at his farm, at the building he had build with his own hands. He knew every corner of it and he would use this to his advantage. The building itself was located with the forest to it's backside, with a small shed to it's left, where Richard kept some tools. As silent as his wounded leg allowed, Richard crouched up to the building. The shed. He needed to get to the shed. Needed to get some sort of weapon. Pain flashed through his wounded leg as he laid stress on it, but he kept ignoring it. He ha… [view original content]
Richard
Richard looked down the path that lead to Roman's farm. No, he could not risk this. Roman was not a bad person, but he held a gru… moredge against Richard, on top of being an ignorant fool who had a problem with sticking to his own land. Besides, like Richard, Roman was no warrior and unlike Richard he was neither tall or muscular. Two hours of walking would not be worth it, even if he would be able to convince Roman of his problems.
He looked at his farm, at the building he had build with his own hands. He knew every corner of it and he would use this to his advantage. The building itself was located with the forest to it's backside, with a small shed to it's left, where Richard kept some tools. As silent as his wounded leg allowed, Richard crouched up to the building. The shed. He needed to get to the shed. Needed to get some sort of weapon. Pain flashed through his wounded leg as he laid stress on it, but he kept ignoring it. He ha… [view original content]
The new part is partially written. I don't know if I manage to finish it today, but as always, I'll try my best
For today's shout-out I don't have a recommendation, instead I have a... strong recommendation! Yeah, that sounded lame...
You might remember the second shout-out I made, for The Road Ahead, in which I went into full fanboy mode. If not, go back to page 19, read the shout-out, click on the link I posted there and join the story. Again, you won't regret it! But this is not a shout-out for The Road Ahead, even though it might appear like one. Though, to be honest, there can never be enough shout-outs for The Road Ahed. Read it!
This is a shout-out for @TWD_25's new story, depicting the events of The 58th Hunger Games. To my pleasant surprise, Hunger Games interactive fanfictions apparently start to become a thing here, which is awesome! Knowing the quality of TWD_25's writing, I am willing to vouch that it is going to be an incredibly amazing story. Hell, I'm even willing to bet Forum of Thrones spoilers that this is going to be epic! However, there are more people needed to create characters, which is where you come into play. Do you enjoy good storytelling? Do you enjoy characterization? Do you enjoy emotional moments? Do you enjoy reading about 24 teenagers who are forced to slaughter each other in barbaric gladiator games for the pleasure of a deadly decadent society? Of course you do, I mean, who doesn't? If you answered yes to any of these questions, you will enjoy this story, take my word for it! May the odds be ever in your favour when you click on this link!
The Voting is closed!
Richard will force Alan to help him
The new part is partially written. I don't know if I manage to finish it tod… moreay, but as always, I'll try my best
For today's shout-out I don't have a recommendation, instead I have a... strong recommendation! Yeah, that sounded lame...
You might remember the second shout-out I made, for The Road Ahead, in which I went into full fanboy mode. If not, go back to page 19, read the shout-out, click on the link I posted there and join the story. Again, you won't regret it! But this is not a shout-out for The Road Ahead, even though it might appear like one. Though, to be honest, there can never be enough shout-outs for The Road Ahed. Read it!
This is a shout-out for @TWD_25's new story, depicting the events of The 58th Hunger Games. To my pleasant surprise, Hunger Games interactive fanfictions apparently start to become a thing here, which is awesome! Knowing the quality of T… [view original content]
Torvin looked at Gabin who gave him a barely visible nod and then back at Harlan, who had a bright, disturbingly cheerful smile on his face. No, he did not like this. This was not how he would do things. But this was how he had to do things. And he really didn't want to meet Harmund Hoare. “So, what shall it be, Breaker? A bit of fun now, or do you want to save it for later?”, Harlan chuckled. Torvin stared back, forcing himself to give the prince a sick smile. “Now sounds just perfect”, he answered and Harlan let out a deep laugh. “That's the spirit!”, he shouted, patting Torvin on the back, before looking back at Gabin. Torvin saw that his ally was slightly flinching as Harlan looked at him. “Gabin!”, he shouted. “What's it with you? You want to join the fun?”
Gabin did well in controlling his face. Torvin knew how afraid the man were in this moment. He was from the Riverlands and no matter how long he spent in the company of Ironborn, there were some things only true iron could withstand. The overwhelming brutality of a Hoare was one of these things. “I... I would be honored, Prince Harlan”, he answered and Harlan grinned at Holt. “Holt, you sick bastard! Go, give these two some toys. Tonight we're going to have some real fun”, he shouted and Holt gave him a cold glare. It was clear that the torturer did not share Harlan's joy. He took his job seriously and Torvin knew immediately that he was the more dangerous out of the two. He had heard stories about Holt Torv. The man has been a sellsword, then a butcher, before Harren Hoare heard about his special talents and hired him as Harrenhal's master torturer. Never before had the dungeons been filled with so many screams of agony. Even though the cells lay deep below the castle, there were nights in which Torvin could hear them. No, he had never met Holt Torv. But he had heard about him and his works.
Holt limped towards Torvin, handing him a long, sharp skinner knife, while staring him right in the eyes. He was a fat and horrifyingly ugly man, his face disfigured by warts, but his blue eyes were genuinely bright, yet ice-cold and dead. “Are you ready for this?”, he hissed. “I can promise, you will have nightmares” Torvin met the torturer's stare without flinching. “I don't get nightmares that easily”, he answered. Holt shrugged. “Never implied you would get them easily, Breaker. You're Ironborn after all. Still, I can promise, you will have nightmares” Gabin let out a slight sigh and Holt glared at him. “If you're too weak to slice and cut some meat, you can go and fuck yourself, Gabin”, he hissed and Gabin slightly shivered. “No... No, it's alright. I'm just not feeling well. Probably got a cold”, he answered. Holt gave him a slight joyless smile. “Probably...”, the torturer mumbled.
Harlan clapped his hands, before grabbing his cleaver. “Okay then! We're visiting a few really nasty people. Fucking traitors and bloody fucking rebels. People who wanted to kill father. And tonight, we're going to break them” He raised his cleaver before looking down at the tortured woman next to him. A sick smile formed around his lips as he made a sudden movement, deeply embedding the cleaver in her skull. Harlan looked at Holt and raised his eyebrows. “What? Don't give me that look, cripple. The bitch had nothing to say anyway, right? Guess she was innocent”, he chuckled. Holt shook his head. “They are all guilty, my prince. You just have to dig deep enough and ask the right questions. Underneath the skin, every man is guilty of something”, he explained. Harlan let out a loud laugh. “You're a smart man, Holt”, he chuckled, before grabbing the torturer's arm. “Mind your place, cripple”, he hissed and for one moment his voice sounded like his father's.
Holt gave the prince a cold glare. “I always mind my place”, he answered before limping away. Harlan looked after him, quickly regaining his cheerful face. “He's charming, isn't he?”, he muttered and grabbed Torvin and Gabin at the shoulders. “You two, my friends, you two will learn some new tricks today! Breaker, have you ever butchered a bitch? The joy of separating skin from flesh, the lovely sound of their screams. In some way, I give them a purpose”, he explained and looked Torvin straight in the eyes. His dark eyes were looking amused and Torvin couldn't help but feel slight anger at Gabin. He had told him that Harlan wasn't bad for a Hoare. But here in the dungeons, Torvin saw a madman, a man who was truly convinced of what he said. The king never hid the fact that he was a brutal and bloodthirsty tyrant. But Harlan... he would have been able to pass as a human being on the streets. He had something casual on him and that was much worse than the irredeemable brutality his father and his older brother displayed.
“A purpose, my prince?”, Gabin asked and Torvin sighed. He had dealt with insanity before and he knew when it was better to stay silent. Harlan's smile got a bit wider. “A purpose”, he whispered. “Isn't it the purpose of every man and woman to serve their king? I might not be their king, but I am second in line to the throne” Torvin had to look away. Yes, he had already dealt with insanity. But Harlan was different. He was a legitimately insane man who was allowed to fully live his depravity. They were all depraved, Torvin remembered, every Hoare in different ways. And yet, Harlan Hoare was the second best of Harren's sons...
Harlan lead them through the maze of corridors that formed the dungeons of Harrenhal, always following the muffled sound of Holt Torv's limping steps. Soft weeping was heard in the dark cells next to them, but Harlan's torch wasn't bright enough to illuminate them. It was probably for the better. Torvin was not a cruel man. He never felt any particular joy in killing and torture just for the pleasure of seeing people in pain made him sick. This kingdom made him sick, this castle made him sick, this dungeon made him sick, this monster of a man made him sick. But he gave a promise to Lord Tully. He would not back out now, he was too deep into it already. He would either kill the king or die trying. One way or the other, people would remember his name and that was all that mattered.
Accompanied by Harlan, Torvin and Gabin entered a small chamber. Holt was already there, igniting several torches. Torvin noticed two men chained to the wall in a small cell inside of the room. A multitude of tools was spread out on the table in the centre of the room. Unexpectedly, they were clean and in perfect condition, no trace of blood on them. The blades were sharpened, the pliers polished. A neat and tidy torture chamber... Sometimes, Torvin suspected that the Drowned God had a horrible sense of humour.
Harlan stepped forwards, pointing at the men. “These two helped the Trident fuckers”, he explained and Torvin understood. These men were rebels, who helped the Sons of the Trident. The Sons, lead by the infamous Lord of the Marches, while neither the biggest nor the most cruel band of outlaws, were mercilessly hunted by the Ironborn, because their goal wasn't a life without rules, but a life in an independent Kingdom of the Trident, spanning all across the Riverlands, a life under a new King, chosen from the Riverlords. Not for the first time, Torvin asked himself if that would be what his defiance would lead to. If that was what he truly wanted to achieve... An independent kingdom of the Riverlands... Yes, if this would keep his family safe, if this would secure him his place in history, he would do it!
Harlan opened the first cell. “Let's see what this little Rivercunt has to say”, he hissed. Holt cleared his throat. “My prince, if you could bring him out of his cell, closer to the table, I'd be able to start with the interrogation”, he explained and Harlan glared at him. “Don't tell me what to do”, the prince growled, but he opened the prisoners chains regardless. Holt sighed. “That was not what I meant, my prince. Opening his chains like this could be dangerous. If you just...”, he started but what cut off by Harlan. “I'm trying to have a bit of fun here, so do me a favour and fuck yourself”
Holt shook his head, while Torvin looked at the scene with morbid fascination. It was a small miracle that Harlan Hoare survived the first thirty years of his life. The prince had turned around to glare at Holt, completely ignoring the unchained prisoner for a moment. The man, a tall and muscular man in his early thirties, wasted no time and grabbed Harlan, wrapping the chains with which he had been bound seconds ago around the prince's throat, all of this in a matter of second. Torvin actually had to give him an impressed look. That was not bad for a man who had been chained to a wall for days.
“Come closer and I'll break his neck!”, the man screamed. “I have nothing to do with the Sons, but I will kill him regardless if you don't let me go!” Holt looked at Torvin and shook his head. “You must be new to my dungeons. Nobody leaves them, not in one piece”, he growled, while Harlan gurgled, his eyes widened in fear, looking helplessly at Torvin. “You will let me go, or I will kill this man!”, the prisoner hissed, clearly almost as angry as he was afraid.
Torvin became aware of the knife he still had in his hand. It wasn't a throwing knife, sure, but he had always been good with them. Harlan Hoare wasn't worth saving, but saving him would ensure his friendship. It would be one step closer to the king. But if he threw the knife and missed, Harlan Hoare would be dead, as well as every other person in this room. There was one good thing Torvin could say about Harren Hoare. The king loved his sons and violently punished anyone who wronged them. If only Garthon would be here! His brother knew how to defuse such a situation. But maybe Torvin learned enough from him to end this without bloodshed. Maybe...
[Try to convince the prisoner to let Harlan go][Throw the knife][Do nothing]
John
His first impulse was to storm the inn. That was how he always managed things. But that was also how he lost two good friends in a similar situation. And he knew the Hammered Harp had a small entrance behind the kitchen. He only needed to sneak around the building. He looked behind him and saw the frightened face of Cass, as well as the determined and angry face of Kyette. “You two stay close to me”, he ordered. “You're safer with me than on your own” Cass seemed to be quite relieved by this, while Kyette only gave him a shrug. She even picked up the sword of the man Cass had killed and Gutten gave her a surprised look. “What?”, she hissed. “I was born in Oldtown. You don't survive there if you don't learn a few tricks”
Gutten gave her a short grin, before turning around to the inn again. He had to stay silent. He had to be sneaky. Seven Hells, he hated being sneaky! He went down a bit and started to move forwards, as quick as possible. From inside of the tavern, a surprised woman's scream could be heard. That must have been Gunel. Janae and Samantha wouldn't scream at some bandits, they would make them scream. Cass gasped in terror, but for a church girl she had a remarkable composure. Gutten heard the sound of clashing steel, even louder than his own heartbeat and fastened his pace. He would not loose any friend today!
The back entrance wasn't locked. It was a small door that lead directly to the kitchen. For a short moment, John had the urge to just burst in, but he slightly hesitated. No... he was trying to go for a stealthy approach. He pointed his sword towards the door, softly touching the handle of the door. A loud scream was heard right behind the door. Ah, fuck stealth!
Gutten raised his sword and kicked the door in with a single kick. Behind it, he saw Gunel who cowered in one of the kitchen's corners. And he saw a young man with dark brown hair, a man he didn't know, a man who was about to storm at Gunel. The man gave him a surprised look, but didn't hesitate to change the target of his attack. Gutten parried his first strike, but the second made him slightly fall back, stepping out of the kitchen again. His opponent was a strong man. His opponent was a dead man. Gutten parried a second strike and a third, before attacking, a swift, but strong strike to the man's chest. His opponent parried the strike, but had considerable difficulty and slightly staggered, only for a moment too long. John's second strike targeted his opponent's throat, slicing through it like a hot knife through butter.
Breathing heavily, John finally entered the kitchen, stepping over his dying opponent. He gave Gunel a sharp look. “How many are there?”, he asked, as the old woman got up on her feet again. “At least half a dozen. Your people do their best, but...”, she said, but Gutten didn't even bother to continue listening. Half a dozen? That shouldn't be too hard! He looked at Cass and Kyette. “You two stay back”, he hissed and noticed that Cass' eyes widened. Tears were flowing down her face. “Stay safe, John”, she whispered and Gutten gave her a smile. “I don't intend to die”, he chuckled, before turning around, almost bumping into Behara. The young woman had a bloody knife in her hand, her eyes widened with fear. “John!”, she shouted. “Gods, John, you have to help them!” John gave her a soft look. “Stay here. If anyone of these fuckers comes into this room, you kill him”, he said and Behara gave him a slight nod. “Good girl”, John grinned, before storming into the inn's main room.
He saw Temari fighting in the centre of the room against three opponent's at once. One man lay dead on the floor in front of him. The mercenary was the only one in the room who actually wore heavy armour. Aylard had his warhammer in his hands swinging it at a man who staggered back. Samantha only had a small kitchen knife and wasn't even wearing any armour, but she was still swinging furious strikes at a man in front of her. Behind her, Sawyer Kawl was lying on the ground, weeping, his eyes wide open. One of the bandits fighting against Temari noticed John and decided to change his target, charging at him, which in turn lead to Temari slightly moving, so that he was able to fight while looking at him.
“John!”, he shouted, while hacking at one of his opponents. “Nice to see you joining the fun!” Gutten chuckled while stabbing at the charging bandit. “Couldn't let you have all the fun, could I?”, he shouted while impaling the bandit with his sword. He saw Temari receiving a heavy blow to the belly, saw the sword failing to go through the armour. For a moment, Gutten held his breath. The mercenary laughed and retaliated by striking at the bandit's unguarded head. “Who's laughing now at the man who's wearing the armour?”, Temari shouted and Gutten heard an annoyed sigh from Samantha, who was still trying to overcome one of the bandits. “Yeah, fuck you too, Temari. A little help here, John?”, she shouted.
Gutten charged forwards, as the bandit turned around, facing him. This was a mistake, but he didn't even get to realize it anymore as Samantha leaped forwards, embedding her knife in his neck. She gave John a thankful smile. Out of the corner of his eye, John saw Aylard swinging his hammer down on his opponent, hitting him in the face. The bandit fell to the ground, trying to get away, but Aylard mercilessly swung his hammer down on him. The way he held the hammer impressed John. He never liked warhammers, for him they were big, unhandy weapons, too blunt to effectively kill an enemy with it. But Aylard apparently had some experience with it. The innkeeper didn't got out of this fight unscathed though. John saw blood running down his shoulder, he saw the painful expression on Aylard's face.
Temari let out a loud roar as he slashed his sword across his last opponent's face. The bandit fell to the ground, screaming and clutching the deep cut that spanned across his whole face. He didn't scream for long, as Temari didn't waste any time to drive his sword through the man's neck. Gutten smiled, looking over the corpses of the fallen bandits. They hadn't expected a serious fight and died like the sorry excuses for animals they were. Temari held his rips, apparently slightly in pain, but Samantha was unwounded. Aylard staggered back, his face pale and Gutten walked up to him. “Hey, hey, easy now”, he mumbled, grabbing the innkeeper at the unwounded shoulder. He noticed that Aylard was trembling in pain. “My son...”, he mumbled and John looked over to Sawyer, who was apparently unharmed. “He is fine, Aylard”, he answered and felt Aylard's relief. Gutten looked up to Temari. “Are you okay?”, he asked. The mercenary nodded. “It's not broken”, he mumbled, clutching his rips
Samantha stepped up to him. “Janae is upstairs, getting our weapons. Her bow. My axes. I assume there will be more of them”, she explained and Gutten nodded in agreement. He noticed that her face was stern and hard. “John, I think we could survive this”, she said, before pointing at Aylard. “But if he fights again... Or if someone gets in through that back entrance. Not all of us have experience” John narrowed his eye. He knew, she was speaking the truth. They all survived this first attack, but Stranger behold a second attack. “What are you suggesting?”, he asked and Samantha gave him a thankful smile. She was smart, he had to give her that and her advice was always sound. “I'll protect them. We will leave through the backside, while you fight them here”, she explained. Gutten raised an eyebrow. Samantha Ducard running from a fight? He must have gotten her harder than he thought with him refusing her request. But she was right. Cass, Kyette, Gunel, Sawyer and the wounded Aylard had little chance to survive this if they wouldn't be protected. But they weren't his problem...
Cass came to mind. Her smile. Her laugh. Her bright red hair. The way she moved when dancing. Gutten closed his eye, refusing to remember Orkmont. She had called him kinslayer... No, he was wrong! They were his problem! He looked at Samantha, noticing that his face slightly dropped. “You are right...”, he whispered. “One of us should go with them. I will stay and fight. And I need Janae here. You want to go?”
Samantha gave him a smile. “Didn't thought you would agree, John. Yes, if you allow it, I will go”, she smiled. Temari stepped up, still holding his rips. “My sister will go with them too. And... Sammy, nothing against you, but... John, I would like to protect her myself. She is the only one I have left and... I wear heavy armour. I can protect them, better than Sammy ever could”, he explained and got a cold glare from Samantha. “Hey, I told you, nothing against you!”, he quickly added. Samantha snorted and gave Temari a sly smile. “Gods, please Temari, you are wounded. It's pretty obvious that I'll be better at protecting these people”, she said, before her smile turned bright and sweet as silk. “Nothing against you, okay?”, she added.
Temari didn't answer beyond a short glare. “John will decide”, he declared, looking at Gutten. It was true, he wore heavy armour and was the only one who did so. He could be able to protect Aylard and his family, but he could also be a valuable asset in the coming fight. However, he was also slightly wounded and Gutten didn't knew how much this wound would affect him, either by protecting these people, or by fighting. Maybe Samantha would be a safer choice. And even though she had a pleased look on her face, Gutten could tell that she was still furious for denying her request the first time.
[Let Temari protect Aylard and his family][Let Samantha protect Aylard and his family]
Torvin
Torvin looked at Gabin who gave him a barely visible nod and then back at Harlan, who had a bright, disturbingly cheerful smile on… more his face. No, he did not like this. This was not how he would do things. But this was how he had to do things. And he really didn't want to meet Harmund Hoare. “So, what shall it be, Breaker? A bit of fun now, or do you want to save it for later?”, Harlan chuckled. Torvin stared back, forcing himself to give the prince a sick smile. “Now sounds just perfect”, he answered and Harlan let out a deep laugh. “That's the spirit!”, he shouted, patting Torvin on the back, before looking back at Gabin. Torvin saw that his ally was slightly flinching as Harlan looked at him. “Gabin!”, he shouted. “What's it with you? You want to join the fun?”
Gabin did well in controlling his face. Torvin knew how afraid the man were in this moment. He was from the Riverlands and no matter how long he spent in the company of I… [view original content]
Comments
[Ride the whole night to Maidenpool]
[Stay a night at the tavern]
Stay a night at the tavern
[Stay a night at the tavern]
The Voting is closed!
Garthon and George will stay a night at the tavern
I'll try my best to put the new part up today or early tomorrow. Unfortunately, I had to rewrite half of the stuff I've written yesterday, since it simply wasn't as good as I want it to be. That means there is still some work to be done on the part, so I don't know if I manage to finish it today.
The character i submited ser Rodrik Stone i said he was a officer in the windblown Company but when i was on the wiki today i saw that the Company had not been founded during that time.So if you want to ignore my character because of that it´s okay but if you have use of him have him be a officer in the Bright banners instead.
That's not a problem. I have recently noticed this and would have put him to the Second Sons, but now it shall be the Bright Banners.
By the way, I really like him, great character! He will be introduced somewhere in Act 2.
Quick update: I'm very positive that I'll be able to put the next part up today. First PoV is finished and I still have a few hours to finish the second one as well, so if nothing strange is going to happen, the part will be up in the next 4 hours.
On another note, I'm writing this because I haven't given you the hospitality... ahem, the shout-out you deserve! And there is one story that is going to start pretty soon, so forgive me my unscheduled shoutout.
I don't know how many of you are into the Hunger Games. It's actually a pretty awesome idea for an interactive story if you think about it, don't you agree? Well, there is already one extremely successful Hunger Games fanfiction going on, but there will be another one starting pretty soon. This new Hunger Games fanfiction will be written by @ayylmao. It hasn't started yet, since it will only start after the character submission is closed, but I figured, maybe one or two of you want to join before it is too late. There are seven open spots as I am writing this. If it is similar to the ongoing Hunger Games fanfiction, it will be absolutely awesome and well worth your time. And at least I am convinced that it is going to be awesome, or else I wouldn't do this unscheduled shout-out. Check it out here
Richard
Richard looked down the path that lead to Roman's farm. No, he could not risk this. Roman was not a bad person, but he held a grudge against Richard, on top of being an ignorant fool who had a problem with sticking to his own land. Besides, like Richard, Roman was no warrior and unlike Richard he was neither tall or muscular. Two hours of walking would not be worth it, even if he would be able to convince Roman of his problems.
He looked at his farm, at the building he had build with his own hands. He knew every corner of it and he would use this to his advantage. The building itself was located with the forest to it's backside, with a small shed to it's left, where Richard kept some tools. As silent as his wounded leg allowed, Richard crouched up to the building. The shed. He needed to get to the shed. Needed to get some sort of weapon. Pain flashed through his wounded leg as he laid stress on it, but he kept ignoring it. He had no time to rest. Jenna was in danger, if not dead already. Wolfius was somewhere out there, maybe even in his house. His house! He had built it for his family, in better times. Wolfius had no right to defile it with his presence!
More angry than he had ever been in his life, Richard reached the shed. It wasn't locked, he rarely locked it when simply going to the town for one evening... but now it had been open for five days. He opened the door and with a quick look he saw that it hadn't been looted. Not exactly. It had been searched. Someone had thrown the tools to the ground and thoroughly rummaged through his few belongings. Richard looked down on the ground and saw his axe. Normally he would cut firewood with it. But not now... He knew he should be able to split a skull with it. The question was, would
he be able to do it? Richard had never killed another man. Sure, he had been into his fair share of brawls. Once he had broken a man's nose. But he had never killed someone. “It will be easy”, Richard mumbled. “It will be easy”
He left the shack and moved towards the backside of his house. The windows there were built high, so he didn't need to crouch that much to remain unseen. And there was a backdoor, a freshly oiled backdoor. Richard crouched up to the backdoor, ignoring the horrible pain in his leg. Yes, after this day he would gladly rest for a whole week, if not longer. Luckily the bone wasn't broken or else he wouldn't be able to walk at all, but the damage done to the flesh of his lower leg was bad enough already.
The door opened without a noise and Richard let out a small grin. That went well! He grabbed the axe tighter and stepped inside his living room, suppressing a pained sigh as he looked over the room in complete disarray. Nothing was missing from what he could see, but it was clear that somebody had been looking for something. The drawers in his small cupboard were open, the large chest in the corner of the room had been searched. A noise got Richards attention. Somebody was still there, somebody was still looking for something in his house. The noise came from his bedroom, the second largest room in the house, located to his right. The door was wide open as Richard sneaked up on it.
“Fuck... Fuck here has to be something. Come on man, don't leave me hanging...”, Richard heard someone mumble. He looked into the room and saw someone, a lean man with short brown hair, who had his back turned on Richard and was leaning over Richard's private chest, searching through his belongings. That was not Wolfius, that was simply a common intruder, a thief maybe. Still, Richard felt anger inside of him. He was gone for five days and some asshole was already searching through his belongings... Richard started to sneak up on the man, gripping his axe slightly looser. He would not kill him, but he would smash his teeth and break his nose. He would not kill him. He would not...
A sudden and extreme flash of pain exploded in his leg as he made an unwary step, putting far too much weight on his damaged leg. A scream of pain forced it's way out of his throat as he fell down on the ground, the axe landing next to him with a loud noise. He heard a surprised outcry as he was still facing the ground, breathing heavily. He heard footsteps nearing and managed to slightly pull himself up, seeing the legs of the man who broke into his house.
“Richard?”, the man asked. The voice sounded familiar now. Too familiar... No! No, that was impossible! Why would he...? Richard forced himself to get up enough so that he was able to look the man in the face. For one moment he was frozen in shock. The face he was looking into was his own. Younger, clean-shaven, slightly longer, with a crooked smile and overly confident brown eyes. But the similarity to his own face was almost uncanny. The man in front of him was his brother!
“A... Alan”, Richard mumbled in shock, finally getting up again. In front of him stood Alan Harking, his younger brother. A man who had taken so much from him. His brother. His best friend in childhood. A man he wanted to kill for a short time. Alan gave him a wide, sleazy smile. “Richard!”, he exclaimed, stepping forwards and pulling him into a tight hug. “Brother!”, he exclaimed again and Richard let out a pained moan as he was forced to put weight on his damaged leg. Alan let go of him and looked at him with a wide grin. “I thought you weren't here. I called. I waited several minutes. Oh Richard, this is wonderful!”, he chuckled and finally noticed the look of pure anger in Richard's face. “Richard? Is someth...”, he started, but was cut off by Richard punching him in the face. The punch was strong enough to make Alan fall to the ground, Richard standing above him, trembling with anger, trembling with relief.
“Ouch. Seven fucking Hells, my nose!”, Alan moaned as he was getting up on his feet again. “What was that for?”, he asked as Richard stepped forwards again, this time to pull his brother into a hug. “What are you doing here, Alan?”, Richard asked, for a moment forgetting everything that had been between them. For one moment he was simply a brother again, a brother who just met one of the few family members he had still left. His younger brother, his worst enemy for so many years, a man who had taken so much from him and gave him so few. His brother...
As he looked at Alan, he saw that his brother was smiling too. Blood was running down his nose and he was clearly in pain, but he was smiling too. “Gods, I probably deserved that, right?”, Alan asked, before looking down. “Damn it Richard, what happened to your leg?”, he asked. Richard shook his head. “Long story, Alan”, he answered and sat down in his bed. “You first. What are you doing here? Why were you searching through my belongings?”
Alan sat down next to him letting out a small laugh. “Mother have mercy, all these years... I was passing through, saw your house. I wanted to see how you're doing, brother”, he answered. Alan was a compulsive liar, one of the hardest lessons in Richard's life had consisted of finding this out. And now he was good at spotting his brother's lies. The small ones, the big ones. The ones he just told for fun, the ones he told with the intention to trick others, to cheat, to steal. “Alan...”, he said with a stern voice and his brother slightly shivered for a moment.
“Okay... okay, you got me. I wasn't just passing through... I mean, I really want to see how you're living now, brother, I really do. I mean... how's your wife? Erna, wasn't it?”, Alan answered and Richard narrowed his eyes. “Elma...”, he hissed and Alan gave him a slight nod. “Yes, yes, Irma, of course. Anyway, how is she?”, he answered and Richard suppressed the urge of punching him again. “She is dead”, he muttered. “Starved to death, because we had no money for food!” His voice got sharper and he glared at Alan.
It was hard to tell when Alan was truly serious, but for one moment he seemed genuinely saddened. “Listen Richard... I never wanted...”, he mumbled, before stopping. “I am sorry, brother. I truly am” Richard could tell that he was at least half serious. Now, that was a start. Richard was a family man. There was a time in which he and Alan were truly close. This time was long gone and Richard was sure it would never come back. But still... family was family. “What are you doing here, Alan?”, he asked again.
For one moment, Alan seemed a bit helpless. “I didn't knew where else I should go, brother”, he answered and Richard gave him a surprised look. “But... the money, Alan. All the money...”, he mumbled and Alan avoided his stare. “I made a few bad decisions. A deal gone bad. I owed a few very nasty people a very large sum of money. It is gone...”, he muttered and Richard had to seriously suppress the urge to beat his brother senseless. The money! All the money that had rightfully been his, until Alan came along. Sure it hadn't been Alan alone. Other relatives were involved, other relatives who probably convinced him. But it had mainly been his fault. All the money... There were days in which Richard could only imagine how his life would have turned out, if it weren't for Alan, who took it all away. Elma would still be alive... Maybe his sons would be at home. Jenna wouldn't need to work for this terrible housekeeper. For one moment, Richard Harking was genuinely devastated.
Alan looked at him, apparently genuinely sorrowful. “Listen Richard, I'm sorry. I never meant for this to happen... But I need your help”, he pleaded and Richard looked up, looked him right in the eyes. “My help...”, he hissed. “You need my help?” He couldn't help, a sad smile appeared on his face. This was irony. A tragic form of irony. Alan took everything from him. Even though he wasn't evil, he was indirectly responsible for everything that happened. And now he wanted his help. His brother looked almost hopeful. “Yes! Yes, brother, please. I have nowhere else to go. It's only for a few weeks. Until I found work. Until I'll be able to sleep somewhere else. Listen, Richard, I know this is awkward. I did a terrible thing and now I need your help. You have every right to be angry. But can you turn your back on me, your little brother? I did a mistake. I did plenty of mistakes. But, Richard, I am a changed man. Let me prove it. I know, I can never give you back what you have lost. But I can help you. I mean, look at your leg. I can work for you, on the fields, like I did in the good old days!”, he pleaded with a hasty voice.
The good old days! These days had never been. Looking back on it, it had always been Alan doing something to screw over everything and everyone. But Richard hadn't seen it back then. There was a time in which he and Alan have been genuine friends and part of Richard still wanted this times back. Part of Richard wanted to believe this obvious lie his brother was telling. Part of Richard wanted to kill him for everything that happened. But there was one thing Alan was right with. Richard wasn't able to turn his back on Alan. No matter what happened, Alan was family. And family was something he couldn't choose. He had to help him.
“You can stay in the shack”, Richard answered and his brother gave him a hug. “Oh, Richard, brother, thank you! You are a good man, a just man. I knew I could count on you!”, Alan shouted and Richard had to push him away. “Only until you've found something else”, he insisted and Alan gave him a nod. “Only until I've found something else!”
Alan clapped his hands. “Yes, brother! You won't regret it, I promise!”, he said. Richard already regretted it. “What were you doing here, Alan?”, he asked. He already knew the answer, but he wanted to hear it from Alan. He wanted to hear that Alan tried to steal from him again. Alan gulped. “Like I said, I needed your help. So I went to your house. I knocked. I waited. I called everyone. Your neighbour, this Roman fellow, he passed through and told me that he hasn't seen you for a few days... so I assumed you were gone for a while”, he explained, looking a bit helpless for a moment. “So, I let myself in. I still knew a few tricks. I wanted to look if you have... you know anything of value. I would have brought it back! I have an idea, a plan if you want to say. It's a sure thing. I will be rich again. And I would have paid you back!”, he explained. Richard looked at him, furious, unable to say anything. “You would have stolen from me... again”, he mumbled and Alan shook his head. “Only borrowed! It's not stealing if you intend to give it back, brother!”, he answered with a weak voice.
Richard's gaze fell on the long bundle leaning on the wall. His father's sword. He looked at Alan and Alan looked back, his face suddenly pale. “No... Oh no, please brother, you can't mean to... That would be kinslaying! You can't seriously mean to... I am your brother!”, he stuttered. But that wasn't what Richard had in mind.
His brother was lean, someone who had never worked for anything his whole life. But he was healthy. He could help. He wasn't ideal, but he was the only one available. “Alan...”, Richard said sternly and his brother's smile faded. “You are an asshole and believe me that I would gladly break your legs for everything you did. I'm letting you stay here and you will be working for me. That does not mean that I will forget or forgive. What you did can't be forgiven. But you can make amends for it. I need you to do something for me”, Richard said and Alan looked at him, almost eager to help. “Everything, Richard!”, he exclaimed. “Just name it and I will do it for you! I know, you are angry and I know you have every right to be. I know you will never forgive me and I don't even expect this. I am a changed man and I want to make amends. Tell me what needs to be done!”
Richard looked at his brother. Alan was unreliable, he had always been unreliable. But he had also always been fond of Jenna, at least in the few short years he had known her. Alan was not a bad person at heart, he was just greedy and selfish and he acted without thinking what this would mean for others. Richard could never forgive him, he would never forgive him. But he was willing to let him make amends. He was willing to accept that his brother was indeed able to change.
“Lot's of things happened, brother”, he explained. “Jenna is working at the castle now” This gave Alan a bright smile. “Little Jenna? I always knew she would make it far! She is her uncle's niece”, he grinned and Richard shook his head. “She is nothing like you, Alan. She is gentle, genuinely friendly and she is willing to put the interests of others first”, he hissed and Alan looked slightly insulted. Before his brother could say anything, Richard continued.
“The people who did this to me”, he said and pointed on his damaged leg. “These people have plans here in the city. One of them is a man who goes by the name of Wolfius Woodbark” Alan raised an eyebrow. “Come on Richard, now you're kidding me. That is not his true name. Trust me, I have experience with fake names”, he said and Richard shrugged. “I don't care if it is his real name or not. He is dangerous. Deadly dangerous. He murdered a young girl, likely without any provocation. He is a killer and a beast and a man we should fear”, he explained.
Alan looked a bit unsure for a moment. “This... Wolfius, he did this to you?”, he asked. “I mean... your leg. And your face. That looked pretty serious. Is he that dangerous? I mean, you're so strong...”, he muttered. Richard gave him a slight smile. “Strength does not mean anything when your opponent cheats. He had friends with him, associates of some sort. One of them had a crossbow and shot me in the leg”, he answered.
Alan almost jumped. “Crossbow? I hate fucking crossbows!”, he exclaimed, breathing heavily. Richard could not blame him, not this time. Alan was afraid. And to be honest, Richard was afraid too. But it wasn't his own life he was afraid of.
“Another associate of Wolfius, a young woman did this to my face. She beat me up and left me to die. I spent the last week in the company of a madman, lying barely conscious under a bridge. And for some miracle, my leg is not broken”, he explained but stopped as he saw Alan giving him a wide grin. “What is it?”, Richard asked, slightly irritated.
“A girl beat you up. A girl...”, he giggled, but quickly stopped as Richard gave him a furious glare. “A trained killer, apparently”, he hissed and Alan gave him a sarcastic nod. “Sure. Trained killer. If you say so... a girl”, he chuckled and Richard decided that any further explanation would be pointless.
“The last thing I've heard before loosing consciousness was Wolfius mocking me. He told me he would kill Jenna. And I believe he is going to target her soon”, he explained and saw Alan's face getting serious again. “He wants to kill Jenna? But... why?”, he stuttered. “My sweet niece, getting targeted by some deranged killer...”
Richard forced himself to stand up. The pain in his leg was almost bearable again. He was able to walk, yes, he was able to fight. He had to be careful of course, but he knew he was stronger than Wolfius. He would only need to strike him once to kill him. It would be possible. “I am going to the castle. I have to warn Jenna. I have to warn the acting lord and the commander of the city guard. I know where Wolfius is hiding and I know what he did”, he said and looked at Alan. “And I'm going to need your help, little brother”
Alan's face got pale as he opened his eyes in shock. “My help? You just said they have crossbows! Do you really need my help?”, he stuttered and Richard rolled with his eyes. His brother was a coward when it came to things like this! “Yes, Alan, I need your help!”, he hissed. “For everything you did, for Jenna, I will need your help”
With these words he grabbed the long bundle at the wall. His father's sword... He had never really used it. He was no warrior. His father had been a soldier, a man of respect and wealth. A hero of war. But Richard was not a soldier. He was just a farmer, just a father. But right now, in this place, being a father was worth more than ten soldiers. Nothing could stop him now, not from what he was going to do! There had been many people who screwed him over in his life. Alan had been one of the worst. But Wolfius... he was even worse. He stepped into his life with no regards for anything, he destroyed and murdered just like he wanted. He killed that poor girl on the streets and now he would target Jenna. Just to please his sick pleasure... How could he dare? How could he dare!
The sword felt good in his hands. Cold, valuable steel. One of the few belongings he had left from his father. The only thing he could never sell. It wasn't a very elegant weapon, not worthy of a knight, but more than worthy of a simple farmer. His father had always kept it sharp and after his death, Richard continued with this tradition. It was a weapon ready to kill.
Richard looked back at Alan. “We are going to the castle, together. We will help Jenna, you and I. Together, like in the good old times. You will help me!”, he ordered and Alan looked at him, completely helpless.
“But... but... crossbows...”, he stuttered. “I can't help you with this, Richard. I am weak, I am not a fighter. I would only slow you down. Leave me here. I will tidy up your house. I will help you, but I can't fight for you. Please, brother, you can't demand that from me...”, he pleaded.
Richard looked at his cowardly brother. He couldn't demand that from him? He was the one holding the sword! But would Alan really be a help?
[Force Alan to help you] [Leave Alan behind and go to the castle alone]
[Force Alan to help you]
He dies, meh.
Although Jenna will be greeted by an empty house.
[Force Alan to help you] DO WHAT I SAY ALAN
[Force Alan to help you] I don't think Richard will die so maybe Alan will if he helps.
This is probably my favourite fic on this forum!
[Force Alan to help you]
Can always use a arrow catcher
[force Alan to help you]
great chapter!!
[Force Alan to help you]
[Force Alan to help you]
[Force alan to help you]
[Force Alan to help you]
{Force Alan to help you}
Shame there's not a "Kill Alan" option what a twat
[Go alone to the castle] I believe Alan would be no help he propably would run away some time or another if you force him to come with you
[Force Alan to help you]
[Force Alan to help you]
[Force Alan to help you] I AM YOUR FATHER ALAN AND YOU WILL DO AS I SAY -says the complete stranger-
[Leave Alan behind and go to the castle alone]
It's not gonna win, so who cares.
@SuperChocoLatte , WE DID IT! ALAN HAS FINALLY ARRIVED! HIS MASTER SKILLS OF SWOOPING WILL DEVESTATE ALL WITHIN WESTEROS! #AlanForTheIronThrone
*brother
I CAN BE WHATEVER I WANT TO BE!!!
lol I just realized that I put father.
House Harking FTW
[Force Alan to come with you]
We should make a non-canon series where the Harkings become badass warrior pimps, and destroy every major house until they become the one and only house in Westeros.
Not like my vote could change anything but... [Leave Alan behind and go to the castle alone]
Then the Tarygaryens come and destroy them.
The end.
"The Harkings kill the GoT universe"
I'd read that for sure. XD
[Leave Alan behind and go to the castle alone]
[Force Alan to help you]
[force alan to help you]
The Voting is closed!
Richard will force Alan to help him
The new part is partially written. I don't know if I manage to finish it today, but as always, I'll try my best
For today's shout-out I don't have a recommendation, instead I have a... strong recommendation! Yeah, that sounded lame...
You might remember the second shout-out I made, for The Road Ahead, in which I went into full fanboy mode. If not, go back to page 19, read the shout-out, click on the link I posted there and join the story. Again, you won't regret it! But this is not a shout-out for The Road Ahead, even though it might appear like one. Though, to be honest, there can never be enough shout-outs for The Road Ahed. Read it!
This is a shout-out for @TWD_25's new story, depicting the events of The 58th Hunger Games. To my pleasant surprise, Hunger Games interactive fanfictions apparently start to become a thing here, which is awesome! Knowing the quality of TWD_25's writing, I am willing to vouch that it is going to be an incredibly amazing story. Hell, I'm even willing to bet Forum of Thrones spoilers that this is going to be epic! However, there are more people needed to create characters, which is where you come into play. Do you enjoy good storytelling? Do you enjoy characterization? Do you enjoy emotional moments? Do you enjoy reading about 24 teenagers who are forced to slaughter each other in barbaric gladiator games for the pleasure of a deadly decadent society? Of course you do, I mean, who doesn't? If you answered yes to any of these questions, you will enjoy this story, take my word for it! May the odds be ever in your favour when you click on this link!
Thanks liquid!
Oh Crap! I got followed from this thread and I don't usually go on the Game of Thrones section soooooo yeah.... I have some catching up to do.
Torvin
Torvin looked at Gabin who gave him a barely visible nod and then back at Harlan, who had a bright, disturbingly cheerful smile on his face. No, he did not like this. This was not how he would do things. But this was how he had to do things. And he really didn't want to meet Harmund Hoare. “So, what shall it be, Breaker? A bit of fun now, or do you want to save it for later?”, Harlan chuckled. Torvin stared back, forcing himself to give the prince a sick smile. “Now sounds just perfect”, he answered and Harlan let out a deep laugh. “That's the spirit!”, he shouted, patting Torvin on the back, before looking back at Gabin. Torvin saw that his ally was slightly flinching as Harlan looked at him. “Gabin!”, he shouted. “What's it with you? You want to join the fun?”
Gabin did well in controlling his face. Torvin knew how afraid the man were in this moment. He was from the Riverlands and no matter how long he spent in the company of Ironborn, there were some things only true iron could withstand. The overwhelming brutality of a Hoare was one of these things. “I... I would be honored, Prince Harlan”, he answered and Harlan grinned at Holt. “Holt, you sick bastard! Go, give these two some toys. Tonight we're going to have some real fun”, he shouted and Holt gave him a cold glare. It was clear that the torturer did not share Harlan's joy. He took his job seriously and Torvin knew immediately that he was the more dangerous out of the two. He had heard stories about Holt Torv. The man has been a sellsword, then a butcher, before Harren Hoare heard about his special talents and hired him as Harrenhal's master torturer. Never before had the dungeons been filled with so many screams of agony. Even though the cells lay deep below the castle, there were nights in which Torvin could hear them. No, he had never met Holt Torv. But he had heard about him and his works.
Holt limped towards Torvin, handing him a long, sharp skinner knife, while staring him right in the eyes. He was a fat and horrifyingly ugly man, his face disfigured by warts, but his blue eyes were genuinely bright, yet ice-cold and dead. “Are you ready for this?”, he hissed. “I can promise, you will have nightmares” Torvin met the torturer's stare without flinching. “I don't get nightmares that easily”, he answered. Holt shrugged. “Never implied you would get them easily, Breaker. You're Ironborn after all. Still, I can promise, you will have nightmares” Gabin let out a slight sigh and Holt glared at him. “If you're too weak to slice and cut some meat, you can go and fuck yourself, Gabin”, he hissed and Gabin slightly shivered. “No... No, it's alright. I'm just not feeling well. Probably got a cold”, he answered. Holt gave him a slight joyless smile. “Probably...”, the torturer mumbled.
Harlan clapped his hands, before grabbing his cleaver. “Okay then! We're visiting a few really nasty people. Fucking traitors and bloody fucking rebels. People who wanted to kill father. And tonight, we're going to break them” He raised his cleaver before looking down at the tortured woman next to him. A sick smile formed around his lips as he made a sudden movement, deeply embedding the cleaver in her skull. Harlan looked at Holt and raised his eyebrows. “What? Don't give me that look, cripple. The bitch had nothing to say anyway, right? Guess she was innocent”, he chuckled. Holt shook his head. “They are all guilty, my prince. You just have to dig deep enough and ask the right questions. Underneath the skin, every man is guilty of something”, he explained. Harlan let out a loud laugh. “You're a smart man, Holt”, he chuckled, before grabbing the torturer's arm. “Mind your place, cripple”, he hissed and for one moment his voice sounded like his father's.
Holt gave the prince a cold glare. “I always mind my place”, he answered before limping away. Harlan looked after him, quickly regaining his cheerful face. “He's charming, isn't he?”, he muttered and grabbed Torvin and Gabin at the shoulders. “You two, my friends, you two will learn some new tricks today! Breaker, have you ever butchered a bitch? The joy of separating skin from flesh, the lovely sound of their screams. In some way, I give them a purpose”, he explained and looked Torvin straight in the eyes. His dark eyes were looking amused and Torvin couldn't help but feel slight anger at Gabin. He had told him that Harlan wasn't bad for a Hoare. But here in the dungeons, Torvin saw a madman, a man who was truly convinced of what he said. The king never hid the fact that he was a brutal and bloodthirsty tyrant. But Harlan... he would have been able to pass as a human being on the streets. He had something casual on him and that was much worse than the irredeemable brutality his father and his older brother displayed.
“A purpose, my prince?”, Gabin asked and Torvin sighed. He had dealt with insanity before and he knew when it was better to stay silent. Harlan's smile got a bit wider. “A purpose”, he whispered. “Isn't it the purpose of every man and woman to serve their king? I might not be their king, but I am second in line to the throne” Torvin had to look away. Yes, he had already dealt with insanity. But Harlan was different. He was a legitimately insane man who was allowed to fully live his depravity. They were all depraved, Torvin remembered, every Hoare in different ways. And yet, Harlan Hoare was the second best of Harren's sons...
Harlan lead them through the maze of corridors that formed the dungeons of Harrenhal, always following the muffled sound of Holt Torv's limping steps. Soft weeping was heard in the dark cells next to them, but Harlan's torch wasn't bright enough to illuminate them. It was probably for the better. Torvin was not a cruel man. He never felt any particular joy in killing and torture just for the pleasure of seeing people in pain made him sick. This kingdom made him sick, this castle made him sick, this dungeon made him sick, this monster of a man made him sick. But he gave a promise to Lord Tully. He would not back out now, he was too deep into it already. He would either kill the king or die trying. One way or the other, people would remember his name and that was all that mattered.
Accompanied by Harlan, Torvin and Gabin entered a small chamber. Holt was already there, igniting several torches. Torvin noticed two men chained to the wall in a small cell inside of the room. A multitude of tools was spread out on the table in the centre of the room. Unexpectedly, they were clean and in perfect condition, no trace of blood on them. The blades were sharpened, the pliers polished. A neat and tidy torture chamber... Sometimes, Torvin suspected that the Drowned God had a horrible sense of humour.
Harlan stepped forwards, pointing at the men. “These two helped the Trident fuckers”, he explained and Torvin understood. These men were rebels, who helped the Sons of the Trident. The Sons, lead by the infamous Lord of the Marches, while neither the biggest nor the most cruel band of outlaws, were mercilessly hunted by the Ironborn, because their goal wasn't a life without rules, but a life in an independent Kingdom of the Trident, spanning all across the Riverlands, a life under a new King, chosen from the Riverlords. Not for the first time, Torvin asked himself if that would be what his defiance would lead to. If that was what he truly wanted to achieve... An independent kingdom of the Riverlands... Yes, if this would keep his family safe, if this would secure him his place in history, he would do it!
Harlan opened the first cell. “Let's see what this little Rivercunt has to say”, he hissed. Holt cleared his throat. “My prince, if you could bring him out of his cell, closer to the table, I'd be able to start with the interrogation”, he explained and Harlan glared at him. “Don't tell me what to do”, the prince growled, but he opened the prisoners chains regardless. Holt sighed. “That was not what I meant, my prince. Opening his chains like this could be dangerous. If you just...”, he started but what cut off by Harlan. “I'm trying to have a bit of fun here, so do me a favour and fuck yourself”
Holt shook his head, while Torvin looked at the scene with morbid fascination. It was a small miracle that Harlan Hoare survived the first thirty years of his life. The prince had turned around to glare at Holt, completely ignoring the unchained prisoner for a moment. The man, a tall and muscular man in his early thirties, wasted no time and grabbed Harlan, wrapping the chains with which he had been bound seconds ago around the prince's throat, all of this in a matter of second. Torvin actually had to give him an impressed look. That was not bad for a man who had been chained to a wall for days.
“Come closer and I'll break his neck!”, the man screamed. “I have nothing to do with the Sons, but I will kill him regardless if you don't let me go!” Holt looked at Torvin and shook his head. “You must be new to my dungeons. Nobody leaves them, not in one piece”, he growled, while Harlan gurgled, his eyes widened in fear, looking helplessly at Torvin. “You will let me go, or I will kill this man!”, the prisoner hissed, clearly almost as angry as he was afraid.
Torvin became aware of the knife he still had in his hand. It wasn't a throwing knife, sure, but he had always been good with them. Harlan Hoare wasn't worth saving, but saving him would ensure his friendship. It would be one step closer to the king. But if he threw the knife and missed, Harlan Hoare would be dead, as well as every other person in this room. There was one good thing Torvin could say about Harren Hoare. The king loved his sons and violently punished anyone who wronged them. If only Garthon would be here! His brother knew how to defuse such a situation. But maybe Torvin learned enough from him to end this without bloodshed. Maybe...
[Try to convince the prisoner to let Harlan go] [Throw the knife] [Do nothing]
John
His first impulse was to storm the inn. That was how he always managed things. But that was also how he lost two good friends in a similar situation. And he knew the Hammered Harp had a small entrance behind the kitchen. He only needed to sneak around the building. He looked behind him and saw the frightened face of Cass, as well as the determined and angry face of Kyette. “You two stay close to me”, he ordered. “You're safer with me than on your own” Cass seemed to be quite relieved by this, while Kyette only gave him a shrug. She even picked up the sword of the man Cass had killed and Gutten gave her a surprised look. “What?”, she hissed. “I was born in Oldtown. You don't survive there if you don't learn a few tricks”
Gutten gave her a short grin, before turning around to the inn again. He had to stay silent. He had to be sneaky. Seven Hells, he hated being sneaky! He went down a bit and started to move forwards, as quick as possible. From inside of the tavern, a surprised woman's scream could be heard. That must have been Gunel. Janae and Samantha wouldn't scream at some bandits, they would make them scream. Cass gasped in terror, but for a church girl she had a remarkable composure. Gutten heard the sound of clashing steel, even louder than his own heartbeat and fastened his pace. He would not loose any friend today!
The back entrance wasn't locked. It was a small door that lead directly to the kitchen. For a short moment, John had the urge to just burst in, but he slightly hesitated. No... he was trying to go for a stealthy approach. He pointed his sword towards the door, softly touching the handle of the door. A loud scream was heard right behind the door. Ah, fuck stealth!
Gutten raised his sword and kicked the door in with a single kick. Behind it, he saw Gunel who cowered in one of the kitchen's corners. And he saw a young man with dark brown hair, a man he didn't know, a man who was about to storm at Gunel. The man gave him a surprised look, but didn't hesitate to change the target of his attack. Gutten parried his first strike, but the second made him slightly fall back, stepping out of the kitchen again. His opponent was a strong man. His opponent was a dead man. Gutten parried a second strike and a third, before attacking, a swift, but strong strike to the man's chest. His opponent parried the strike, but had considerable difficulty and slightly staggered, only for a moment too long. John's second strike targeted his opponent's throat, slicing through it like a hot knife through butter.
Breathing heavily, John finally entered the kitchen, stepping over his dying opponent. He gave Gunel a sharp look. “How many are there?”, he asked, as the old woman got up on her feet again. “At least half a dozen. Your people do their best, but...”, she said, but Gutten didn't even bother to continue listening. Half a dozen? That shouldn't be too hard! He looked at Cass and Kyette. “You two stay back”, he hissed and noticed that Cass' eyes widened. Tears were flowing down her face. “Stay safe, John”, she whispered and Gutten gave her a smile. “I don't intend to die”, he chuckled, before turning around, almost bumping into Behara. The young woman had a bloody knife in her hand, her eyes widened with fear. “John!”, she shouted. “Gods, John, you have to help them!” John gave her a soft look. “Stay here. If anyone of these fuckers comes into this room, you kill him”, he said and Behara gave him a slight nod. “Good girl”, John grinned, before storming into the inn's main room.
He saw Temari fighting in the centre of the room against three opponent's at once. One man lay dead on the floor in front of him. The mercenary was the only one in the room who actually wore heavy armour. Aylard had his warhammer in his hands swinging it at a man who staggered back. Samantha only had a small kitchen knife and wasn't even wearing any armour, but she was still swinging furious strikes at a man in front of her. Behind her, Sawyer Kawl was lying on the ground, weeping, his eyes wide open. One of the bandits fighting against Temari noticed John and decided to change his target, charging at him, which in turn lead to Temari slightly moving, so that he was able to fight while looking at him.
“John!”, he shouted, while hacking at one of his opponents. “Nice to see you joining the fun!” Gutten chuckled while stabbing at the charging bandit. “Couldn't let you have all the fun, could I?”, he shouted while impaling the bandit with his sword. He saw Temari receiving a heavy blow to the belly, saw the sword failing to go through the armour. For a moment, Gutten held his breath. The mercenary laughed and retaliated by striking at the bandit's unguarded head. “Who's laughing now at the man who's wearing the armour?”, Temari shouted and Gutten heard an annoyed sigh from Samantha, who was still trying to overcome one of the bandits. “Yeah, fuck you too, Temari. A little help here, John?”, she shouted.
Gutten charged forwards, as the bandit turned around, facing him. This was a mistake, but he didn't even get to realize it anymore as Samantha leaped forwards, embedding her knife in his neck. She gave John a thankful smile. Out of the corner of his eye, John saw Aylard swinging his hammer down on his opponent, hitting him in the face. The bandit fell to the ground, trying to get away, but Aylard mercilessly swung his hammer down on him. The way he held the hammer impressed John. He never liked warhammers, for him they were big, unhandy weapons, too blunt to effectively kill an enemy with it. But Aylard apparently had some experience with it. The innkeeper didn't got out of this fight unscathed though. John saw blood running down his shoulder, he saw the painful expression on Aylard's face.
Temari let out a loud roar as he slashed his sword across his last opponent's face. The bandit fell to the ground, screaming and clutching the deep cut that spanned across his whole face. He didn't scream for long, as Temari didn't waste any time to drive his sword through the man's neck. Gutten smiled, looking over the corpses of the fallen bandits. They hadn't expected a serious fight and died like the sorry excuses for animals they were. Temari held his rips, apparently slightly in pain, but Samantha was unwounded. Aylard staggered back, his face pale and Gutten walked up to him. “Hey, hey, easy now”, he mumbled, grabbing the innkeeper at the unwounded shoulder. He noticed that Aylard was trembling in pain. “My son...”, he mumbled and John looked over to Sawyer, who was apparently unharmed. “He is fine, Aylard”, he answered and felt Aylard's relief. Gutten looked up to Temari. “Are you okay?”, he asked. The mercenary nodded. “It's not broken”, he mumbled, clutching his rips
Samantha stepped up to him. “Janae is upstairs, getting our weapons. Her bow. My axes. I assume there will be more of them”, she explained and Gutten nodded in agreement. He noticed that her face was stern and hard. “John, I think we could survive this”, she said, before pointing at Aylard. “But if he fights again... Or if someone gets in through that back entrance. Not all of us have experience” John narrowed his eye. He knew, she was speaking the truth. They all survived this first attack, but Stranger behold a second attack. “What are you suggesting?”, he asked and Samantha gave him a thankful smile. She was smart, he had to give her that and her advice was always sound. “I'll protect them. We will leave through the backside, while you fight them here”, she explained. Gutten raised an eyebrow. Samantha Ducard running from a fight? He must have gotten her harder than he thought with him refusing her request. But she was right. Cass, Kyette, Gunel, Sawyer and the wounded Aylard had little chance to survive this if they wouldn't be protected. But they weren't his problem...
Cass came to mind. Her smile. Her laugh. Her bright red hair. The way she moved when dancing. Gutten closed his eye, refusing to remember Orkmont. She had called him kinslayer... No, he was wrong! They were his problem! He looked at Samantha, noticing that his face slightly dropped. “You are right...”, he whispered. “One of us should go with them. I will stay and fight. And I need Janae here. You want to go?”
Samantha gave him a smile. “Didn't thought you would agree, John. Yes, if you allow it, I will go”, she smiled. Temari stepped up, still holding his rips. “My sister will go with them too. And... Sammy, nothing against you, but... John, I would like to protect her myself. She is the only one I have left and... I wear heavy armour. I can protect them, better than Sammy ever could”, he explained and got a cold glare from Samantha. “Hey, I told you, nothing against you!”, he quickly added. Samantha snorted and gave Temari a sly smile. “Gods, please Temari, you are wounded. It's pretty obvious that I'll be better at protecting these people”, she said, before her smile turned bright and sweet as silk. “Nothing against you, okay?”, she added.
Temari didn't answer beyond a short glare. “John will decide”, he declared, looking at Gutten. It was true, he wore heavy armour and was the only one who did so. He could be able to protect Aylard and his family, but he could also be a valuable asset in the coming fight. However, he was also slightly wounded and Gutten didn't knew how much this wound would affect him, either by protecting these people, or by fighting. Maybe Samantha would be a safer choice. And even though she had a pleased look on her face, Gutten could tell that she was still furious for denying her request the first time.
[Let Temari protect Aylard and his family] [Let Samantha protect Aylard and his family]
[Do nothing]
[Let Samantha protect Aylard and his family]
Bruh where is a Lucas part? I'm dying for one.
Unless this chapter isn't gonna have any for more pov characters.