Forum of Thrones: An Interactive Story



  • Thank you for your great character, who is, by the way, the first submitted character from the Kingdom of the Vale :)

    Of course you can make a female assassin. You do not need to create her boss if you don't want to.

    So I just submitted a character I kind of want to submit one moooore Just asking... Can I make an assassin? Can a girl be an assasin?

  • Yeah sure, I mentioned somewhere that it could have been anywhere in westeroes, it just forced me to pick somewhere from the list

    Yes, it is perfectly fine and I like it I have one question though: Would you mind if I move the location of the Inn to the Reach? I have a certain place in mind that could become a recurring location.

  • Thanks for the reply!
    Kingdom of Vale sounded really nice and since I'm not really that familiar with GoT (Except for the game and first two episodes) I chose what sounded the best ^-^

  • I really fancy the location of Raylansfair.

  • ayy lmao

    i can dig it.

  • Howdy there. Just saw this forum by now. And as you are being sucessful at writting this fanfic we shall one day probably start calling you Lord Liquid. xD. Those were some good ideas. I just hope you show a point of view from Royal House Hoare and House Blackwood. Good luck with the writing.

    As I was not long time ago writing a fan fic about the Reach as well, I'll send you some characters that I won't be using no longer. I'll start by the sending you the submmission for the House Mullendore members I had as sketch, as all GoT thrones stories need a Mountain-like character and a Rorge-like character.
    Once in a while I'll come by and send some characters just for filter matters :P. Good job and Good luck.

  • Thank you very much! Lord Liquid... I like the sound of that XD

    Howdy there. Just saw this forum by now. And as you are being sucessful at writting this fanfic we shall one day probably start calling you

  • Dear god, I haven't yet made up by mind... :P

    The Voting is closed! Lyria will accept Wolfius' offer! Lucas will accept Leonards offer: He will go into the chamber while Leonard will be on the lookout Writing for the new chapter is halfway done and it will likely be up later today.

  • I'll be sending the other character by tomorrow, so don't worry, you can create whatever you want with the one I've sent now because they don't have that much in common, geographically and in morals, etc.

    I asked you to make him related to Dairon, I'd really like if you could do it, but as you don't explicidly say anything about those sorts of things I wonder about it...

    Thank you very much! Lord Liquid... I like the sound of that XD

  • Amazing character! I can definitely use him. And since I haven't thought about Dairons family yet (or even his last name to be honest), he can sure be related to him. Thank you!

    I'll be sending the other character by tomorrow, so don't worry, you can create whatever you want with the one I've sent now because they do

  • edited December 2014


    While eyeing the barmaid, Marak thumped his jug on the table. “More ale, wench!“, he yelled over the noise of several dozen drunken men. The barmaid, a voluptuous blonde, probably one or two years younger than him looked over and gave him a wink, before turning to the innkeeper. Marak leaned back and began to count. That was his seventh, no his eighth jug of ale. Together with the room he had rented for the night... seven hells! Much to his dismay, Marak just found out he could only afford two more jugs, maybe three if he got lucky with the dice. Oh and he was certain that today was his lucky day. He looked over and eyed his opponent, one of the local farmers, a short man with a nasty look on his face.

    “Your move“, his opponent stated. Marak gave him a devious grin. The stupid farmer hadn't even noticed that the dice were biased. He threw them again. The dice showed a five and a six “Eleven. Make it better, mate!“ The farmer muttered a curse and took the dice, threw them and Marak gave him a confident smile. The dice had been quite expensive in Storm's End. They appeared to be completely ordinary, unless thrown in a certain way. The craftsman, a slimy man from Myr, even called them fool-proof. And Marak knew, he was no fool.

    “Mother's saggy tits“, his opponent cussed. The dice showed a four and a two. The farmer looked at Marak and his glare alone could have been enough to make Maraks evening. But he intended to end it several pennies richer and with the barmaid in his bed.

    “Six“, he exclaimed, quite unneeded. In that moment, the barmaid came back, a full jug of ale in her hand. Marak gave her a lascivious smile. “He's paying, honey“, he said and the barmaid gave him a bright smile.

    His opponent threw his hands in the air. “Seven Hells, what is your secret, Ironborn?“, he asked, with barely constrained frustration.

    “It's the scars. And the beard... Face it mate, I'm more handsome than you“, Marak said, while gaving the barmaid a light smack on the butt. She let out a surprised squeal.

    “What? What are you... Damn you Ironborn, that was not what I meant“, the farmer exclaimed. “Nobody can be that lucky!“

    Marak shrugged and drank a deep gulp from his jug before answering. “Today is just my lucky day I guess“ Too late did he notice that his opponents face had turned slightly red.

    “Bullshit! Fuck this game, fuck your lucky day and fuck you, you cheating son of a whore!“, he exclaimed while grabbing the dice.

    Marak put his beer down and felt the anger growing inside of him “How did you call me?“, he asked, calmer than usual. The farmer met his gaze with equal fury. “Oh, you understood me very well the first time. I called you a cheating son of an Ironborn whore!“ He almost screamed the last words and the men on the surrounding tables got silent. Marak gently stroke his red beard. “You have three seconds to give me back my dice and leave this tavern, or else I'm going to split your skull open and piss on your brain, you Stormland scum“

    As he looked to his left, he realized that he just said something very, very stupid. “You just called him Stormland scum?“, one of the other men said, a hulking giant of a man. A hulking giant of a Stormland scum.

    The farmer grinned as he saw unexpected allies. “You want your dice back, you fucking cheat? First you better give me my copper back!“, he exclaimed while throwing the dice across the room and, according to the startled shouts, right into someones beer.

    “Who was that!“, someone screamed. The farmer grinned as Marak stood up. The giant on the table next to him stood up too and the Ironborn realized that the other man was almost as tall as he himself was. Out of the corner of his eyes he saw another movement. A new guest has entered the tavern, a somewhat exotic looking woman with olive skin and long red hair. She wore a pretty uncommon dress, completely red and a bit too thin for a night like this. Marak smiled. Screw the tavern wench! The lady in red was the new goal. And what a goal she was. The ironborn licked his lips while the woman looked over the tavern guests. He had to impress her somehow. Maybe if he...

    The punch got him off-guard, while he was drooling over the woman and almost sent him to the ground. His opponent had made the first move and was preparing for another. This time, Marak saw it coming and hit first. He managed to hit his opponent in the stomach, followed by another hit to the chin that sent the man to the ground. A quick glance to the door showed him that the lady in red now had her attention directed at him. Three men stood up. The farmer he played dice with also got up from his chair. “The Ironborn cheated. He stole my money!“, he screamed. And then seven hells broke loose. Marak kicked one of his opponents in the groin but received a nasty blow to the chin for that. Another man got a little bit too cocky and grabbed a chair, only for Marak to effortlessly pull it out of his hands and deliver a quick punch to the face. Just as he was about to beat another man, he took a heavy kick in the back, followed by another one right between his legs. While cursing the drowned god, Marak went down, feeling at least a hundred horses kicking him. Before everything turned to black he heard a strangely melodic voice, ordering the men to stop.

    When he woke up, Marak realized he was no longer in the tavern. It was still night and he was still in Blackhaven, the stinkiest village in the Stormlands. He was lying on the street, his back hurted like hell, his nose was likely broken. Again. But he could move his feet, which was a good thing. With a loud moan he got up. No, nothing broken, nothing sprained. He lost his dice and his money, but at least he still got his... “Shit!“, he screamed. His axe was gone. He bought the axe the last time he was in Pyke. It was a piece of home. He couldn't just...

    A sudden movement startled him. Out of a dark corner, the lady in red stepped into the moonlight. In her hands, she hold the axe. It looked quite ridiculous. And undeniably hot. With relief Marak noticed that the kick in his crotch hadn't caused permanent damage.

    “It appears you lost something, tough guy“, the woman said, while examining his axe. Her voice was sweet as honey and strangely melodic. Marak took one step towards her. “And it appears you found it for me, sweet lady“ He reached for the axe, but the woman took a step backwards. She perked her eyebrows. “Found it? For you? No, you're mistaken in both cases, tough guy“ Her voice had a slightly mocking tone and Marak noticed an accent. That lady was clearly from one of the free cities. Pentosh? Qohor? By the drowned God, he hoped not. Qohorik girls were all crazy and not in a good way. Braavos. Yes, that accent sounded Braavosi, but mixed, almost as if two accents got combined somehow.

    "Are you a Braavosi girl?“ He grinned as he thought about the last Braavosi girl he fucked. Braavosi girls were great, albeit that one girl from Lys had been even better. The lady in red caught him staring at her body and gave him a sharp glare. “Attention up here, tough guy...“, she ordered and to his own surprise, Marak found himself following this order. “My name is Noelle of Braavos. Originally Asshai, to satisfy your curiosity“ Marak took a step backward and held his breath. Asshai. That was not good. “You're a witch!“, he exclaimed. He heard all kinds of stories from Asshai-by-the-shadow, even spoke to some men who claimed that they had visited it once. And no story was in any way something he wanted to be part of.

    The lady in red seemed to be slightly disappointed. “I am as much a witch as you are not a savage drunkard. I serve the one true god!“, she exclaimed and while she said that, she had a delighted expression in her green eyes.

    Marak looked at her, now visibly confused. “You serve the drowned god?“, he uttered. The drowned priests he knew were all zealous, older man. He did not like the direction this conversation was heading.

    Noelle snorted with frustration “I'm talking about the Lord of Light, you oaf“ He gave her a confused look and she sighed. “His name is R'hllor. The one true god. He who gave us life. He who gave us warmth. He who gave us fire“ She raised the axe. “And he who owns your axe...“, she added with a slight smile.

    Marak sighed. “Listen lady, I don't know of any gods named Roller...“

    “R'hllor!“, Noelle said with a slight hiss. The Ironborn rolled his eyes. “Whatever his name is... Listen lady, could you just give me my property back?“, he asked, now slightly irritated. Whoever this Lord of Light was, this Noelle lady was definitely a maniac. The last person he saw with a look like this was a Drowned Priest.

    Noelle let out a mocking laugh. “Your property, tough guy? These peasants from the tavern took it as payment. I bought it from them. And everything that is mine belongs to Him“

    As Marak took a step forward to simply take the axe, Noelle did something he did not expect. She handed him the axe. He grabbed it, but she still kept her hands around the hilt

    “If you take this weapon, you will work for me. You had ten men against you and managed to send four of them to the ground before you got overpowered. The Lord of Light has a need for men like you“, she said.

    “Has he? Well tell your lord he has an excellent taste, but he is not my type“, Marak scoffed, before he had to gulp. The look this priestess just gave him... it scared him.

    “You are a mercenary, aren't you? I am hiring you. You will get your axe back and you will get an additional reward“, she said with a voice as cold as ice. Marak nodded. “Fine, mylady... I will work for you and your Rollmop. What do you want me to do?“

    Noelle gave him a slight smile. “Have you ever heard of a city named Raylansfair?“, she asked. Marak thought hard. “Can't say so. Is that a Vale city? I never had a girl from the Vale, so I don't know much...“

    Noelle interrupted him. “It is in the Reach. We live in great times, tough guy. The lord showed me a vision in the flames. His chosen One will soon arrive in this heathen kingdom and he will take what is rightfully his, with Fire and Blood. And I shall be...“, she started to preach, but Marak interrupted her. “Whatever... Listen I don't need all the details. I don't need to know about chosen ones, albeit the part with the fire and blood sounded cosy. Just tell me what I need to do...“ He spoke the last part a bit slower, to make sure this lady understood.

    Noelle stopped, quite baffled at his rudeness. “I need to get to Raylansfair. It can be dangerous to go alone, for the night is dark and full of terrors... I also need a muscle to help me with my duty“

    Marak thought about that for a moment. Work for an insane lady who worshipped a Rollmop... But she did gave him his axe back. And Seven Hells, she was hot! “Lady Noelle, I accept your offer! I will do what you command... anything you command. But you mentioned... a certain reward. Well, rest assured, dear priestess, I already have something in mind...“ With this last words he gave her a suggestive smile.

    She did not smile back. “I am not a whore, tough guy. You can choose between two rewards. One would be money, the reward of a thug. But I could also give you the wise man's reward. I could show you the truth...“, she said. With the last words, the strange look in her eyes came back. Marak gulped. Gold or the truth? He liked gold. But the way the priestess said this, it sounded like she would be disappointed in this choice. Maybe he still had a chance if only he took the second option this time...

    [Take the Gold] [Learn the Truth]


    Ah, Oldtown. Jaron looked down on the oldest city in Reach. He had been here before two times with his mentor, Ser Matthos. Today was the first time he entered the city completely on his own. A large queue of carts moved down the hill that lead to the cities northern gate, a constant flow of people entering and leaving the city. Jaron gave his horse the spurs and moved past the carts and other peasants. A knight does not need to wait. He remembered what Matthos once told him. Oldtown has been built by the First Men, even before the Andal Invasion. According to Matthos, Oldtown was also one of the largest cities in Westeros, with people from all over the seven kingdoms, Essos and even the Summer Isles travelling here, simply to trade their goods. It has been said that Oldtown contained a shrine for every god men ever worshipped. In his first visit, Jaron had seen the imposing Starry Sept, seat to the Faith of the Seven. Only a few streets later he had seen a building dedicated to the Red God, next to it a smaller building with blackened walls, dedicated to the goat-headed god the Qohoriks worshipped. Of course there was also the Citadel and the famous Lighthouse that towered the city, lighting the way for ships from all over the world.

    It took him quite a while to enter the city, even on horseback. The broad street leading to the northern gate was almost completely blocked by carts. A few men from the city watch were trying to maintain order, but still it was a chaotic mess to enter the city. Jaron moved his horse towards the watchman who standed nearest to the gate. The man looked up. “Name and Reason?“, he asked. “My name is Ser Jaron the Bastard. I am a travelling Knight in search for work“, Jaron answered. Yes, he was a bastard. It never bothered him, in fact it was his nickname since early youth. Some people used the word bastard as an insult, but for Jaron it simply stated his heritage. The son of a whore and probably a high lord. At least his mother always told him this story.

    The watchman nodded and signaled for Jaron to enter the city. As he rode past him, the man gave him quite a disdainful look. Jaron ignored this. He was used to people looking down on Hedge Knights, seeing them as little more than vagabonding peons. But if worst came to worst, they were needed. A traveling knight, fighting highwaymen, helping those in need. The ideals of a Hedge Knight were quite high. And at least his old mentor had always uphold them. Now it was up to Jaron to continue his legacy. When he saw Oldtown, he did not saw the largest and smelliest town in Reach, but he saw an opportunity. An opportunity for glory. An opportunity to achieve fame and fortune. Maybe win the affection of a princess. He smiled at this thought and continued his way into the city and into the bulk of people.

    It did not take him long to find the tavern he was looking for. The Drunken Septon was one of the cities lesser known inns, but a place where a man could sleep safe and sound to a reasonable price. They also had a stable. First time he was here, Matthos found a good paying job in escorting a merchant to Highgarden. The second time they found work in a small mercenary group for a few months. And now it was up to Jaron to find paid work. His armour needed to be fixed by a capable blacksmith and with a bit of luck he would get the money he needed for this from his next contract.

    “Greetings young traveller, welcome at the Drunken Septon. How can we help you?“ The innkeepers wife, a stout and cheerful woman in her late fourties greeted him with a motherly smile and Jaron gave her a friendly nod. She did not remember him. Of course not. Last time he had been here he was a boy of fifteen years. In the past three years he managed to grow himself a stubble. He also got significantly taller. The only thing that did not change was that he still wasn't very muscular, much to his chagrin.

    “Pleasant day, good woman. My name is Ser Jaron the Bastard. I'm looking for a bed to sleep and a good meal. And my horse needs a place in your stables“, he answered her before sitting down at a small table.

    It took the innkeeper's wife not more than fifteen minutes until Jaron had a warm bowl of soup standing in front of him. His horse had been accomodated in the stables and he was looking forward for sleeping in a warm bed for once. As Jaron started to eat his meal he noticed that a small boy had entered the tavern. The innkeeper's wife immediately started to walk towards him.

    “How often have I told you thieving urchins to stay away from this tavern!“, she started to rant. The urchin winced for a moment and gave her a pleading look. It was a small boy, maybe around ten years old. He had the dark skin of a sandy dornishman, maybe a bit lighter and was incredibly dirty. Even though he had nothing against poor children, Jaron understood the woman. The boy opened his teary eyes and the innkeeper's wife sighed.

    “Fine... Fine, let me see if I can find some of yesterdays leftovers for you. But don't you dare stealing anything! And don't bother the knight!“, she said before turning around and walking into the kitchen. The urchin looked at Jaron, while the Hedge Knight looked back. A friendly smile appeared on the urchins face and he came closer.

    “Are you really a knight?“, he asked. Jaron snorted. “There are days where I'm not sure myself, little boy... Are you really an urchin?“, he answered.

    “Are you the man they call „The Bastard“? Ser Jaron the Bastard?“, the boy asked suddenly. Jaron raised his eyebrows. How did this little urchin know his name? “And who are you?“, he asked. The boys smile got wider. “I am a bastard too. My name is Himani Sand“ He looked at Jaron and the Hedge Knight felt the sudden urge to put a hand on his purse. “I have a message for you, Ser Jaron. The Burned Man wants to meet you. He sends his deepest condolences over the death of Ser Matthos the Kind“

    Jaron looked at the urchin in astonishment. Ser Matthos had been dead for almost a year now, but he has only been a lowly Hedge Knight. How did an urchin in Oldtown knew about this? And who was the Burned Man? “What does your Burned Man want from me?“, Jaron asked, still baffled.

    Himani looked at the kitchen the same moment when the innkeeper's wife came back. “I told you not to bother the knight!“, she shouted, but stopped when Jaron raised his hand. “It's all fine good woman. The boy just wants to ask me a few questions“ The innkeeper's wife nodded. “Then everything is fine, I guess. But a word of advice: Stay away from the Oldtown urchins, good Ser. They mean nothing but trouble...“ With these words she turned around and walked back to the bar. Jaron pulled Himani closer.

    “I'm asking you again. What does this Burned Man want from me?“, he asked, this time slightly impatient.
    Himani still had a genuinely cheerful smile on his face. “You should ask him yourself. The Burned Man wants to meet you and you should follow this invitation. It means money...“

    With this words, Himani raised his left hand and revealed a golden coin, which he placed in front of Jaron. As Jaron took the coin, he quickly realized that it was a Stormlands coin. Not only that, it was one of his own, his last golden coin. How did he...? Himani seemed to notice the look on his face and bursted into laughter. “Don't worry Ser Jaron. I only took this one coin. And I gave it back. But the Burned Man won't be so kind if you let him wait. Follow me now and meet him. Or stay here and miss this chance. It's up to you...“

    Jaron looked at his warm meal. Someone who calls himself „Burned Man“ always means serious business and probably trouble. On the other hand was this like the beginning of the stories he heard as a child. The opportunity to achieve fame and fortune and the hand of a princess, he thought. But another thought, born of countless deprivations and disappointments told him to be wary. In reality, stories like this often ended with the death of the brave hero...

    [Follow Himani and meet the Burned Man] [Finish your meal and look for work elsewhere]

  • This time I actually had to cut a small sentence in the beginning so that the final choice could be displayed in full... Stupid post length limit XD

    Also for the user who submitted Himani: I slightly altered his backstory so that he can be in Oldtown now. Everything you wrote is still in his backstory and the reason he is in Oldtown now will be adressed in one of the coming parts. I hope that is not a problem!

  • [Learn the Truth]

    [Follow Himani and meet the Burned Man]

    Marak While eyeing the barmaid, Marak thumped his jug on the table. “More ale, wench!“, he yelled over the noise of several dozen drunken

  • [Learn the Truth]

    [Follow Himani and meet the Burned Man]

    Excellent as always. I liked the bar fight segment.

    Marak While eyeing the barmaid, Marak thumped his jug on the table. “More ale, wench!“, he yelled over the noise of several dozen drunken

  • Great as always! And nice to see Jaron in action ;)

    [Truth] Look in to the light of Rollmop!

    [Follow Himani] Burned Man, here we come! :)

    Marak While eyeing the barmaid, Marak thumped his jug on the table. “More ale, wench!“, he yelled over the noise of several dozen drunken

  • I just submitted some characters! I really like the story so far, and it i'm really interested to see where it goes next!

  • Thanks for putting Noelle in this part!

    This time I actually had to cut a small sentence in the beginning so that the final choice could be displayed in full... Stupid post length

  • [Learn the Truth]

    Ironborn shouldn't pay the golden price, although Marak seems to like gold. Still why not :P.

    [Follow Himani and meet the Burned Man]

    Sounds cool.

    Marak While eyeing the barmaid, Marak thumped his jug on the table. “More ale, wench!“, he yelled over the noise of several dozen drunken

  • edited December 2014

    [Learn the truth]

    [Follow Himani and meet the Burned Man]

    I just think of Fallout: New Vegas whenever I hear about The Burned Man.

    Marak While eyeing the barmaid, Marak thumped his jug on the table. “More ale, wench!“, he yelled over the noise of several dozen drunken

  • [Learn the Truth]

    [Follow Himani and meet the Burned Man]

    Marak While eyeing the barmaid, Marak thumped his jug on the table. “More ale, wench!“, he yelled over the noise of several dozen drunken

  • [Learn the Truth]

    [Follow Himani and meet the Burned Man]

    Marak While eyeing the barmaid, Marak thumped his jug on the table. “More ale, wench!“, he yelled over the noise of several dozen drunken

  • I feel The guy would just {Take the gold}

    and {Follow Himani and meet the burned man}

  • Just asking, but can i submit a little bird?

  • The Seven Kingdoms don't exist since Aegon hasn't landed in Westeros yet. It means that there are no public positions, including master of the whispers.

    Just asking, but can i submit a little bird?

  • While there are no little birds like there are in the books and show yet, you could still create a similar character. I am certain that Varys was not the first to use children as spies.

    Just asking, but can i submit a little bird?

  • Thank you very much! I really like your characters!

    I just submitted some characters! I really like the story so far, and it i'm really interested to see where it goes next!

  • edited December 2014

    The voting is closed!

    Marak will learn the truth from Noelle. Whatever that means...

    Jaron will follow Himani and meet the Burned Man

    I will try my best to get the next part up in the next 2 hours, because after that I'm attending a party for New Year's Eve. Should I don't manage to make it until then, the next chapter will be up very early tomorrow!

    On a side note, I want to thank you again, this time for your wonderful characters. There is a huge amount of them submitted so far, each and every one of them with a very unique personality and the possibility to add many things to the story. Every day you guys submit new exciting characters that really inspire me to work with them. And I want to thank you for that, by giving every character a good amount of characterization and a fair amount of screentime. Of course, there will be major and minor characters, but there won't be any redshirt bit characters who are going to die without any impact to the story. And I intend to do it like this, regardless of how many characters are going to be submitted in the future!

    This means, the story is probably going to be a bit longer than I originally intended to. For example, there will definitely be PoV's from the other kingdoms beginning with the next chapter. As a result, I am currently making early plans to make the story a bit longer, either by adding more chapters to the acts or by adding another act to the book. And should your character not be introduced until now, don't worry I have not forgotten about them, they will be introduced eventually and they will play a role in the coming events!

  • [Learn the truth]

    Good chapter, I like the characters of both Noelle and Marak already! Though, similar to the whole "fucking trout" incident, I think Noelle called Marak "tough guy" way too many times.

    Finish your meal and look for work elsewhere

    Wellllll, I know this option won't win anyways, so I might as well go with it and not hop on the bandwagon (which I'm sure many do). I'm going to be honest with you, Jaron is my least favourite character so far, and this was my least favourite chapter to date. I just found it a bit slow, and not nearly as well written or as interesting. I'm sure it will lead to bigger and better things, but this wasn't a great start. Anyways, don't take that as I hated it or anything, I just respect you enough to hear me out with my honest opinion.

    Marak While eyeing the barmaid, Marak thumped his jug on the table. “More ale, wench!“, he yelled over the noise of several dozen drunken

  • I actually agree with you. There's a tad too much repetitiveness in the dialogue.

    SivD1 posted: »

    [Learn the truth] Good chapter, I like the characters of both Noelle and Marak already! Though, similar to the whole "fucking trout" inci

  • Sorry to hear you did not like the Jaron part. But thank you very much for your opinion!

    I always find it hard to rate things I have written myself, so I have to rely on your feedback. Rereading it, I can definitely see the repetitiveness in Noelles dialogue. It was meant to show how she belittles Marak, but it definitely got out of hand.

    The Jaron part is another case. Since I can't really have an unbiased opinion on it, I have to trust you when you say that it isn't well written. I definitely see how it is a bit slower than the other parts. This is mainly attributed to the fact that Jarons first part actually did not have that much story in it until the first choice was necessary. In order to give the part an appropriate length, I included a bit of exposition, maybe a bit too much and that likely slowed down the story even more. I was also tired as hell while writing some parts of it, which could have contributed to the decline in quality. I definitely should never write this story at 2 AM again XD

    Again, thank you very much for your opinion. Negative feedback like that can sometimes help even more than positive feedback and it will definitely help me with the writing of Jarons and Maraks next parts!
    I can assure you, there are some plans for Jaron that will lead to a part of the story I am already excited to write about. So, should your opinion on him change, let me know :)

    SivD1 posted: »

    [Learn the truth] Good chapter, I like the characters of both Noelle and Marak already! Though, similar to the whole "fucking trout" inci

  • Don't sound so surprised that you agree with me ;P

    Drbg posted: »

    I actually agree with you. There's a tad too much repetitiveness in the dialogue.

  • edited December 2014

    I surely will!

    Sorry to hear you did not like the Jaron part. But thank you very much for your opinion! I always find it hard to rate things I have writ

  • edited January 2015


    “I'm sorry brother. I have to do this“, Torvin mumbled. Garthon looked at him as if he had lost his mind. “This is madness, brother... Don't let the Riverlord drag you down with him...“, he muttered in disbelief. Torvin turned around to look at the King. Harrenhals Great Hall did truly deserve it's name. In his arrogance, the King of the Isles and Rivers had built himself the largest castle the world had ever seen. While his father Halleck, no less a bloodthirsty tyrant, had ruled from an almost humble tower house in the city of Fairmarket, this did not suffice for Harren, who desired more. Building Harrenhal took forty years, claimed the lifes of countless forced workers and bled the Kingdom dry. The result was a monument to Harrens hybris. The Great Hall alone was able to hold an army. “The Hall of the Hundred Hearths“ it was called. Torvin had counted them and found out there were not more than thirty-five hearths. Right now almost a thousand men were located in the Hall and still it wasn't even remotely crowded. Two dozen Riverlords, their entourage, over fifty captains of the Iron Fleet and their crew. And Harren Hoare. The King himself sat on his massive throne made of solid stone, far bigger than the Seastone Chair in Pyke, above him, carved in the solid stone, the sigil of House Hoare. Torvin always found that this sigil was fitting for Harren Hoare. It was arrogance personified, still depicting lands that had been lost to other Houses several hundred years ago. Two crossed iron chains, binding the grape clusters of Arbor, the green pines of Bear Island, the black ravens of Oldtown and finally the longships of the Iron Islands. An elaborate sigil, meant to instill awe. For Torvin it showed everything House Hoare has lost in the past thousand years. Building Harrenhal drained the Riverlands. The King wasn't loved not even by his captains. He instilled fear in most people who saw him. He was a monster. But every time Torvin looked at the scars in Harrens face, he was reminded that monsters could be killed. Right now, Harren was a small figure, hundreds of feet away. Torvin wasn't afraid of him. He looked at Garthon.

    “Don't worry brother. The king won't hurt us, I'll make sure of that...“, he said. Garthon did not seem to be convinced. A short nod and he stepped aside. Torvin left the Great Hall. The giant hallway in which he stood now was completely empty. But he had an idea where Lord Tully could have gone. He turned to the right and with quick steps he walked down the hallway. What was he doing? By the Drowned God, what was he thinking? He wasn't afraid of Harren Hoare. But he knew, he should be. He knew what Harren Hoare was capable of. Being afraid would be a wise thing to do. A cowardly thing to do.

    When turned left to the next corridor, he saw the man he was looking for. “Lord Tully!“, Torvin shouted. The Riverlord turned around, his face still showing barely contained anger, his fingers trembling with rage. His blue eyes looked over Torvin. “Yes Ironborn? How can I help you? Or are you just here to humiliate me?“ Edmyn Tullys voice oozed with disdain.

    Torvin took a few steps closer. “I'm not here to provoke you, Lord Tully. What you did in the Hall was a very brave thing to do“, he said, trying to calm the Riverlord down. Tully did not seem to be convinced. “Don't try to flatter me, Ironborn. It was a stupid thing to do“, he scoffed, before letting out a sigh. “But I guess there's no point in turning back now. You have an advantage, Ironborn. You know my name, but you haven't told me yours“

    Torvin gave him a heartfelt smile “Torvin Breaker, Captain of the Behemoth“, he introduced himself. Tully narrowed his eyes. “Breaker? I have heard this name. Your great-grandfather slew Peyton Mallister during the siege of Seagard, right?“ Torvin gave him an approving look. For a Riverlord, Edmyn Tully knew a great deal about the Ironborn. “You're right, Mylord. And one of Walder Brackens archers shot an arrow in his eye at Fairmarket“, he answered

    Tullys face softened considerably. “I did not mean to speak ill of the dead, Captain Breaker. What do you want?“, he asked.

    Torvin closed his eyes for a moment. This was it. The moment of truth. “You did a brave thing in the Great Hall, regardless of how wise it was. Defying the king like this...“

    Tully snorted. “Bravery... I'm not a coward, Captain Breaker, but this had nothing to do with bravery. Standing for justice shouldn't be seen as an act of bravery. It should be common sense. It was the only honorable thing to do. Seeing the other Riverlords so... indifferent... it made me angry, Captain Breaker. Honor is in the Tully words. It is one of the three pillars my family is founded on. I won't look away while Harren Hoare does as he likes. You can go tell him that. That's what you're here for, right?“

    Torvin gave him a smile. “Honor, Lord Tully. That is why I'm here. My family was once powerful and respected. Harwyn Hoare listened to my great-grandfathers advice. My father, on the other hand was a drunkard and a sycophant. He destroyed the family, took our honor and left me and my brother with a despised name and an old longship. Now it is up to me to restore our honor. And just like you, I refuse to look away. Harren Hoare is not only a tyrant to the Riverlords, but to his captains as well. Not all of us are like him“

    By the drowned God what was he doing?

    If anything, Lord Tully looked genuinely baffled. “I did not expect to hear such words from an Ironborn. I claim to be good in seeing peoples true intentions. And it seems we have something in common, Captain Breaker“

    Torvin nodded. “Your words, Lord Tully. We both would do everything for our families. We both struggle with our duty. And we value honor. Yes, we have something in common. The only question is, how far are you willing to go?“

    Tully was silent for a moment. His face dropped. As he answered, his voice was quieter than before “Lord Frey tried to be on good terms with the king. He made generous gifts and contributed a great deal to the building of this...“ He made a disgusted face “... this monstrosity. He even invited the kings oldest son, Ser Harmund, to be his guest at the Twins. And Harmund raped his daughter. Out of fear, Lord Frey does not dare to challenge the king over that matter. One of his sons told me this story. The kings sons are every bit as worse as the king himself and they grow up to get even worse“

    He looked Torvin straight in the eye and the Ironborn noticed something in Tullys gaze. This trout had the heart of a lion! “You ask me how far I am willing to go, Captain Breaker? I have a daughter. If it keeps her safe, I will fight Harren Hoare till it snows in Dorne. The real question here is, how far are you willing to go?“

    Torvin looked out of a window, down onto Harrenhals courtyard. Ten thousand men were stationed at the castle and with every day there were more coming. Harrens sons were on their way to the castle. The last of it's five towers was almost finished. The largest castle in Westeros. An impregnable fortress. A monument to Harren Hoares megalomania and all his sins. A castle built on blood. Harren Hoare was a danger to the whole kingdom. But more important, he was a danger to everyone close to him. A danger to the Riverlords. A danger to his captains. A danger to Torvin. A danger to Garthon. Torvin wasn't afraid of Harren Hoare, even though he know he should. Being afraid would be the wise thing. But was working with Lord Tully any less wise?

    [Work with Lord Tully] [Back out]


    Lucas closed his eyes for a moment before looking directly at the other man. “Alright Leonard. We'll do it your way. I'm going to have a look around in Harris chambers and you stay on lookout“

    Leonard seemed to be a bit surprised by that answer. “So you're trusting me just like that? I'm surprised Flowers...“, he started, but Lucas cut him off. “I don't trust you, Leonard. But I noticed something weird in Harris behaviour too. Right now, I can't afford not to trust you“

    Leonard let out a short laugh. “Now that makes sense. Maybe you're not a dead loss after all“ With this words he turned around and went down the tower. Lucas followed him. “So, what do you expect to find in there Flowers?“, Leonard asked. Lucas shrugged. “I don't know. Maybe some answers. Yes, answers would be nice“

    The stopped when they arrived in the second floor. Decades ago this floor contained the chambers for the Maester, the Master-at-arms and the castellan. But today Harris was the only one who preferred to have his chambers in this graveyard. His door was closed, but unlocked. Leonard took position opposite of the door. “If you need to stay in the chamber, I'm going to knock on the door once. If it is safe to come out, I'm going to knock again, you got that?“

    “Got it. And Leonard... don't you dare double crossing me!“, Lucas answered before entering the chamber. He had never been to Harris' chamber before. The castellan was a very tidy person. His room wasn't very big. A small fireplace was located to his right. To his left was Harris' small bed, behind that a large shelf full of books and scrolls. Besides that, the room contained a wardrobe, a small table and a chest. Lucas started to have a look around. The fireplace hadn't been used at least for several hours and the bed was oddly untidy, which made sense, given that Harris likely found no sleep in the last night.

    At first Lucas looked at the table. An empty glass was located there, next to a bottle of wine, half empty. A map of the larger area around Raylansfair was spread across the rest of the table. Several locations had been marked. Lucas recognized the Old Mill in the east of Raylansfair, a building that has been abandoned about fifty years ago, and Tomards Tower, a ruined guard tower located at the western coast, that has been destroyed by the Ironborn about a hundred years ago. Why would Harris mark these on a map?

    The chest attracted Lucas attention next. He reached down to open it, only to find it locked. Of course it was locked. And Lucas would definitely not waste any time in searching for the key. Harris was no fool who left his keys lying around for everyone to find. Instead, Lucas started to look at the bookshelf. The interesting things were likely to be located inside the chest, but maybe the shelf could at least contain something. He quickly looked over the titles. Maester Tygetts complete history of Reach. Maester Hollens' description of Valyrian war strategies. A short essay about the religions of Volantis. A travelogue about a journey to "Qarth, the greatest city that ever was and ever will be". But nothing that was in any way interesting right now. Lucas looked down in frustration. What was he thinking? He just burgled his way into a knights chamber, simply because Leonard told him there could be something. He turned around, moving towards the door. He had enough of this, had wasted enough time. He should have followed Dairon hours ago. Now the boy could be anywhere in the South... Except... Lucas remembered that Dairon once mentioned that his family lived in Oldtown. Maybe he was seeking refuge with them. Or maybe he was fleeing back to the Citadel. Even if he just wanted to go into hiding, the winding streets of Oldtown would be his best bet.

    Just as he was about to leave, he turned around again. And saw something. A small, crumbled sheet of paper, lying under the bed, as if somebody had read it, before tossing it away in rage. He walked towards the bed, reached down and grabbed the paper. Yes, this was definitely a sheet of paper from Lord Raylans chambers. Harris had a similar idea to Lucas. The paper was already traced. It was a letter from Lord Raylan, written by Maester Eaton. Lucas recognized the small, tidy handwriting. Adressed to Manfred Hightower, Lord of Oldtown. Lucas started to read... His eyes widened as he realized what he was reading. “No... No this can not be...“, he mumbled in shock. This was impossible! Why would Lord Raylan ever write this? It made sense that Harris would hide this. But did that mean that he was behind the assassination of Lord Raylan and Maester Eaton? Harris was a man who would do anything to keep the house safe. But would he stoop so low? Lucas sighed. This actually raised more question than it answered. He had to show this to someone. Someone with influence in the castle. Someone who could stop Harris, if necessary. And most importantly, someone who could stop Lord Raylans last wish.

    “What have you found Flowers? You look... distraught...“, Leonard remarked as soon as Lucas stepped out of the chamber.

    “Not now Leonard... I need to show this to Ser Ilhan...“, Lucas mumbled. Leonard chuckled. “You actually want to speak with the Impaler? That bad, huh? Well, I'm not stopping you Flowers. In fact, I'm going to accompany you to Ser Ilhan. And then you can tell us both what you have found in there. I think you owe me that much!“

    Lucas shrugged. “Do I? I don't think I owe you, but you can accompany me. I am not in the mood to fight you now...“, he said and for a moment he was surprised how bleak his voice sounded. Leonard seemed to notice that too and thankfully remained quiet, simply following Lucas out of the tower.

    Ser Ilhan. He had to show this to Ser Ilhan. House Raylan never had many knights sworn to it. Currently there were about five knights in service to House Raylan and about a hundred trained soldiers. In times of war House Raylan could raise an army of almost 1000 men from the smallfolk. Training them was the duty of Ser Ilhan Lagoon, a Dornishman and veteran of countless battles. He was a brave man and even more important, he was fiercly loyal to the house. Unfortunately, he was not a man any person would like to have as company. He was known to show no mercy, not even with his recruits. Countless slain foes in past wars have earned him the nickname “The Impaler“ and he wore it with pride. After the departure of Ser Darren Tallwood a few months ago, Ser Ilhan was maybe the only man who could be trusted in that matter and the only man who had enough authority to do something.

    They found Ser Ilhan in the courtyard, where he supervised a group of new guards. The man was about forty years old, very huge, one of the tallest men Lucas knew, with the olive skin of a salty dornishman and a completely hairless head. Right now he was armed with a training sword and shouting orders to a hapless young boy. “Not like this, you filthy maggot! You call that a blow? Do you know what happens if you attack an enemy with a blow like this?“ Right after that he attacked the boy with a swift and fierce strike to the head, which knocked his opponent to the ground. The boy was wincing in pain and clearly bleeding, but Ilhan delivered two more strong blows to his back. “Should your enemy be even a bit smarter than you, you will be dead! And I can assure you, there are a lot of people smarter than you!“, Ilhan shouted, before looking at his group of intimidated recruits. “Next one! Come on, attack me! Land one blow on me, I dare you! Show me that you're worth more than this boy!“

    “Ser Ilhan!“, Lucas called the Master-at-arms, before one of his poor recruits could even think of attacking him. Ilhan turned around. “Ser Lucas, Ser Leonard! I am quite busy with these worthless new recruits! Make it quick!“, he shouted over the courtyard.

    Lucas and Leonard quickly came closer and Ilhan lowered his sword. “Alright maggots, you got a short break. Somebody should get this one to the Mae.... Ah shit, just get him some water, clean his wound, that has to be suffice“ He then turned his attention to Lucas and Leonard. “That was an important session here. I hope you interrupt it for good reason“, he said with a grunt.

    “We are sorry for that, Ser Ilhan. I can assure you, this is something you want to know!“, Lucas said, but before he could grab in his pocket for the sheet of paper, he heard another voice calling.

    “Lucas! There you are boy. I thought you wanted to investigate Lord Raylans chambers!“, Harris shouted from the entrance to the Great Hall. Seven Hells! Leonard grabbed Lucas by the shoulder. “You should have seen how your face just dropped, Flowers. Leave the talking to me...“, he whispered, before both turned to Harris. Ilhan muttered something unintelligible and gave the boys a glare, but took a short bow towards Harris. “Your acting Lordship...“, he said, with a cold voice. He and Harris had a long lasting rivalry, stemming from the time where Harris managed to defeat and humiliate Ilhan in front of a group of recruits during a training session.

    “Greetings, Ser Harris“, Leonard started to talk, before taking a graceful bow. Harris gave him a slightly surprised look. “Leonard... Weren't you supposed to guard Lord Raylans chamber?“

    Leonard nodded. “I did, until I talked with Lucas there. I feel obliged to do my part in finding whatever caused Maester Eatons death. I want to accompany Lucas on his search“

    Lucas gave him a short, surprised look. Why would Leonard want to help him? Ser Ilhan scoffed “Don't want to interrupt you all, but I really need to get back to turning maggots into men. Why did you boys interrupt me?“, he said while giving them a sharp glare. Lucas looked at Harris. He shouldn't know about Lucas suspicion of him, at least not now. He had to tell him a lie, quick. Damn, he never was a liar. Usually quick of wit, but he preferred to do things the honorable way.

    Again, it was Leonard who came to the rescue. “We wanted to tell you exactly that. Lucas was hoping you could show him a few new tricks with the sword, maybe a quick sparring. It could be dangerous outside of Raylansfair and he wanted to be sure that he is ready“

    For the first time in what seemed to be ages, Ilhans face lit up. “A sparring? Lucas, you little shit, why didn't you tell me immediately? These moves you learned in Essos, they could be valuable for the recruits!“, he said while patting Lucas on the back. Lucas was completely baffled by this and gave Leonard a furious glare. The other man met his stare and smirked. What a bastard!

    Harris seemed to have a good chuckle out of this. “Now that could be quite entertaining. I think I'll be watching you. But after that, you really need to get going! So, Leonard is accompanying you... Is that okay for you?“, he asked.

    Lucas looked at Leonard. He had proven himself to be a valuable ally, the way he just defused the situation. A skilled negotiator like him would be helpful. But could he be trusted? And, more importantly, would Lucas be able to tolerate him while searching for Dairon?

    [Let Leonard accompany you on your search] [Let Leonard stay in Raylansfair]

    This took me a bit longer than I expected, but I will start to work on the next part right now! I wish you all a Happy New Year!

  • Excellent my friend.

    [Work With Lord Tully]

    [Let Leonard accompany you on your search]

    Torvin “I'm sorry brother. I have to do this“, Torvin mumbled. Garthon looked at him as if he had lost his mind. “This is madness, brothe

  • [Work with Lord Tully]

    [Let Leonard accompany you on your search]

    Awesome Chapter!!!!!

    Torvin “I'm sorry brother. I have to do this“, Torvin mumbled. Garthon looked at him as if he had lost his mind. “This is madness, brothe

  • I loved Torvin's part! The conversation between him and Tully was amazing, best moment in the story so far imo! Lucas was also great, Ilhan seems nice :D

    [Work with Tully] Of course, no backing out, team Tully&Breaker fight for family, duty and honor!

    [Lenny will accompany Lucas] Lets get on the road :)

  • [Work With Lord Tully] and [Let Leonard accompany you on your search]

    Torvin “I'm sorry brother. I have to do this“, Torvin mumbled. Garthon looked at him as if he had lost his mind. “This is madness, brothe

  • [Work with Lord Tully]

    Screw Garthon, now is the time to go all out! No longer will Lord Tully be called a "Fucking Trout"! No longer shall Harren Hoare say badass lines involving walls and men nailed to them! Now is the time we strike, in the name of honor! In all seriousness, I enjoyed that bit a lot, and indeed, their conversation about honor and how far they are willing to go was awesome, and felt very epic (in the actual definition of the word).

    [Let Leonard accompany you on your search]

    This was an interesting one, that's for sure. The whole sort-of revelation in Lord Roylan's chambers caught my attention. I must say, I don't know if you made him or not, but Ilhans seemed very similar to Ser Royland from the game. I'm starting to like Leonard more and more, and he seems almost like a non-psychotic Ramsay Snow, and that's a good thing!

    Overall, these are probably my two favourite protagonists (though Marak seems pretty great too), and their stories were both continued excellently!

    Torvin “I'm sorry brother. I have to do this“, Torvin mumbled. Garthon looked at him as if he had lost his mind. “This is madness, brothe

  • [Work with Lord Tully]

    Wait I thought that Aegon burned Harrenhall right after it was built.... Well, anyway, Harren is doomed. Joining Lord Tully and working against Hoare is a good thing to do because Aegon might give Torvin a high title for this.

    [Let Leonard accompany you on your search]

    Fuck it, I just need at least someone's help. Leonard is tricky and strong. He might serve good.

    Torvin “I'm sorry brother. I have to do this“, Torvin mumbled. Garthon looked at him as if he had lost his mind. “This is madness, brothe

  • [Work with Lord Tully]

    [Let Leonard accompany you on your search]

    Torvin “I'm sorry brother. I have to do this“, Torvin mumbled. Garthon looked at him as if he had lost his mind. “This is madness, brothe

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