Forum of Thrones: An Interactive Story

LiquidChicagoTed · September 2018

Ah, I am glad to hear this, hopefully I'll write him well! Keep note, your characters Matt and Joe will also be introduced in the next chapter, though I am certain I'll get them right

DiverseGnu · September 2018

but I would say her name is pronounced something similar to Bazeah Bresendys

That is actually how I thought her name would be pronounced when I created her, it's pretty cool that you thought the same.

GMSforresthood · September 2018

Cheers to you

LiquidChicagoTed · September 2018

Act I: The Calm Before

Chapter III: Ours is the Fury

Drent

Drent had never been this far to the north of his kingdom. Away from the storm-plagued coastal cliffs, the dark, quiet Rainwood or the fertile plains to the west of Storm's End, this region seemed wild, in a way. What counted as the main road to Bronzegate was probably the only actually fortified route in Lord Buckler's lands, connecting his castle with the neighbouring seats of Haystack Hall and Felwood. It truly was the border of the kingdom, a wide, wild and sparsely populated region.

For three days, they had been riding through the outskirts of a massive and barely tamed forest, passing merely small villages, inhabited by lumberjacks. Though there had been little rain, the air was cold nonetheless and a couple of crafty villagers had made a fortune selling fur to the shivering soldiers. Even after they had left the forest itself behind, the cold remained and at night, Drent found himself wishing for the comfort of Storm's End.

Argella, as he realized, would likely use a fancy word to describe the region, such as archaic, and he smirked at the thought. At the same time, it reminded him of how much he missed her. The ring she had given him was always close. It was a woman's ring, made for slender hands, so he had to wear it on a thin leather strap around his neck, hidden beneath his tabard.

The castle of Bronzegate itself was located a couple miles beyond the outskirts of the forest. It was small, at least when compared to Storm's End or the bastions that guarded the Dornish Marches. Located atop the highest hill in the region, it guarded the only major road connecting this part of the kingdom with the area around Blackwater Bay. As such, it reminded Drent more of a fort, built entirely to guard and not to house a lord and his family. Thick walls encircled a small courtyard, broad towers guarding the sides. The gate itself had once consisted entirely of bronze, as Drent had been told, back in the days of the First Men, but it had since been changed to a much more practical combination of sturdy wood and heavy iron, the bronze itself merely a thin layer at the top.

“Ah, behold!”, Bernard exclaimed. Riding a horse had been hard for the man, with his arm still in a sling and one leg displaying a notable limp. But he had not complained, Drent could at least give him that much. He should be in a bed right now, making sure that his broken bones would properly heal. But there he was, leading two hundred men to his father's castle, ready to fight a war. Two dozen of them were on horseback, the rest split into infantrymen and archers.

“It's smaller than I expected”, Torrence mumbled next to Drent, who frowned in return. They were the first row, riding just behind Emphryus, Bernard, Jonathan and Warrick. If any of them had heard his words, they did not comment on them. “My father will give us a worthy welcome!”, Bernard promised. “Tonight, men, all of you will have it warm, a dry place to sleep and a good meal in your bellies!”

He had shouted these words, so that even the last of the soldiers could hear him. They replied in kind, loud and cheerful. Drent joined in. After weeks on the road, not much was needed to satisfy him. However, he noticed that Edonia frowned. She noticed his glance and shot him a nervous smile. “Things seem worse than we were told”, she whispered.

Drent raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”, he asked and she gulped. “That is no large castle and we are two hundred”, she explained. “Do you truly think it can house that many guests without issue?” Thinking about it for a moment, Drent shook his head. “You think House Buckler has less soldiers than Bernard claims?”

To this, she shrugged. “Has he claimed a thing?”, she asked in return. “I merely say that I doubt Lord Buckler has called for his men-at-arms. They are still out there, being lumberjacks and farmers and all these things they should be. I doubt he has that many standing forces and it seems he wasted time recruiting the peasants”

“Means we'll be the first in battle”, Torrence concluded, shooting his sister a dark glare. “You just had to say that, eh? Doubt I'll get proper sleep after that”, he complained, perhaps a bit too loud, as Emphryus shot his soldiers a glare in this very moment. Quickly though, he cracked a smile. “You worry too easily, Bernile”, he growled. “No wonder Montclair preferred your sister”

Torrence clenched his teeth, though he averted his gaze just as quickly, before his commanding officer noticed the anger. Instead, he focussed onto the castle, as they quickly rode closer. Bronzegate wasn't particularly impressive even up close, but Drent had to admire how utterly practical it was. The way the towers were arranged, they allowed for a precise overview of the hilly terrain that surrounded the castle. The walls were sturdy and in pristine condition, even if the amount of guards left much to be desired. There were no patrols, no perimeters and the two hundred Stormlanders were able to leave the forest in their entirety before a horn sound signalled that they have been noticed. But in theory, Bronzegate was perfect for its task, guarding the northern Stormlands without much splendour.

At least with one thing, Bernard should remain correct. The gates of Bronzegate were sturdy and in the autumn sun, the bronze that covered them shined brightly as they approached. It was a tiny spark of beauty in an otherwise barren castle. The courtyard behind was oozing convenience, a completely unadorned square, where a handful of guards had gathered.

The man in their mid was clearly their leader. Clad in fine armour, he wore the colours of House Buckler proudly on the tabard above. Heavy gloves covered his hands, the lack of steel gauntlets perhaps the only indicator that he wasn't dressed for war. His left hand rested on a broad sword on his belt, the other moved to the thick, dark cloak around his shoulders. An ageing face, covered in deep wrinkles, his bald head covered in a light tan. The same dark brown eyes as his son, but with a sharpness to them Drent hadn't seen in Bernard yet.

“Father!”, Bernard greeted the man and he received a nod in return, as Benedict Buckler crossed his arms over his broad chest. “Bernard”, he growled. “You return without the princess” It was a statement, spoken in a cold, unemotional tone. Bernard frowned, before he nodded. “I am afraid the plans have changed”, he spoke. “An army is on its way. I was sent with these men to support you in the defence of Bronzegate”

Lord Benedict glanced at the soldiers behind his son. For a moment, his face lit up. “Emphryus Dresfel”, he mumbled and the knight descended from his horse. Unlike Bernard, his injuries hadn't been as major and he was already walking without even the hint of a limp. Or perhaps the knight was just truly the toughest man Drent had ever met, as he approached the Lord of Bronzegate, casually extending a hand. “Mylord Buckler!”, he spoke. “I wasn't sure you'd recognize me”

With a thin smile, Benedict grabbed the knight's hand and shook it. “A warrior of your renown?”, he asked. “How could I ever forget a man like that? If the king sends you, the situation must be truly dire” To this, Bernard nodded, perhaps in an attempt to regain his father's attention. “We believe Targaryen will send his vanguard soon”, he spoke.

Instantly, Benedict's smile faded. “Your information is outdated”, he replied. “I received word, from no other than Targaryen's general” Drent clenched his fists as the thought of the dark-haired knight flashed through his mind. “Baratheon”, Emphryus growled and Benedict nodded. “I expect nothing from a bastard”, he confirmed. “But he requested a negotiation”

That, to be honest, came as a surprise and next to him, Edonia gasped. Emphryus tilted his head. “Is he for real?”, he asked. “Bastard comes here with an army and wants to have a little chat?” Benedict shrugged. “I decided to allow him and two dozen of his men inside my walls. It can't hurt to hear him out”, he replied.

“Are you sure this is wise, father?”, Bernard asked, as Jonathan Errol came to help him down his horse. With his injured leg, he barely made it and Benedict raised an eyebrow. “I don't think you're in the place to question my wisdom, boy”, he replied calmly. “What happened to you? Got into another fight you couldn't win?”

Bernard gulped, but it was Emphryus who came to his aid. “You should see the other one”, he replied and put a hand on his chest. “That'd be me. Your son had the misfortune of jousting against me. Despite that, he kept coming, no matter how often I landed a blow. Never saw a man who so strictly refused to go down” He winked. “You'd be proud”

To this, Benedict blinked. “Is that so?”, he asked and his son nodded, more sheepish than Drent expected. For a moment, the lord just looked at Bernard, before he reciprocated the nod. “It's not a princess, not what I demanded, but it could have been worse”, he admitted. “Still, this is a bad time to be injured. If the talks go bad, we must expect a siege and fighting has always been the one thing you're best at”

He turned around, pointing at the keep at the other end of the courtyard. “But enough talk for now. It is a cold afternoon and I am sure you would prefer to continue this within the Great Hall”, he offered and the loud cheers from the soldiers were all the response he needed. With Emphryus by his side, he approached the Great Hall, while a multitude of servants rushed by to take care of the horses.

Bernard sighed, before Jonathan handed him the crutch he required to walk properly. It was a pitiful sight, yet Drent had been assured the man would make a full recovery in time. Still, not for the first time, he had to consider if it had been worth it. Just because Bernard wasn't crippled for life didn't mean it couldn't have happened. And Argella had been seemingly fine with the idea.

Lost in thoughts, he noticed the hand to stop him a moment too late and he bumped into the man in front of him. “Apologies...”, he mumbled, before he realized the tall figure of Warrick Fell in front of him. The look in his mismatched eyes was inscrutable, though Edonia and Torrence stopped at once. “A word”, Fell growled. “Alone. This won't take long”

His tone made it clear he would not accept anything else and Drent hesitantly gave Edonia a nod. She sighed, before she grabbed Torrence, gently pushing him towards the Great Hall, with rows of soldiers marching behind them. Drent however felt a slight nervousness rising, as he looked at Warrick. This had been the closest he has been to him since the melee and perhaps the first time the man ever actually spoke in his presence. His tone was calm, but there was an underlying anger, perhaps a remnant of his rather shameful defeat.

“What is the matter, mylord?”, Drent asked casually, trying to sound as calm as possible. Warrick raised an eyebrow, above his pale blue eye. “The matter...”, he mumbled. “Is that I know what your deal is. It's Drent, right?” Drent nodded, unable to suppress a gulp and Warrick continued. “The way you fought against me in the melee... I observed the fights, picked them carefully, but you, you sought me out. You wanted to fight me and me in particular”

“I...”, Drent began, but Warrick cut him off. “Out of all the fighters, the only pair that did something similar were Roland Caron and Cedrik Dondarrion”, he explained. “And it's widely known they compete for the love of the Swann girl. Meanwhile, there have been rumours about how close you are to the Storm Princess. Makes me wonder, are we competitors?”

Drent bit down on his lower lip, as the man's unsettling stare seemed to look right at his deepest thoughts. “But that's not even it. Princess Argella is a beautiful woman, I get it, I honestly understand why you'd want to single me out in combat. Would I feel a thing for her, I'd probably do the same”, Warrick admitted. “But that does not explain the rest of what happened during the tourney. Jonathan, one of the best archers I know, defeated by a girl. That she even participated must have had a reason. Bernard just so happens to have the misfortune of facing Emphryus Dresfel in the first round of the joust. And I am singled out in combat by a man with known feelings for Princess Argella”

“What do you mean to say with that?”, Drent asked, slightly narrowing his eyes, but there was no anger. So close and without a weapon to defend himself, he was intimidated by Warrick Fell. Though the man showed no hint of anger, there was an aura of menace about him, perhaps originating from these unsettling eyes of his. “I think you know exactly what I mean”, he replied. “I think none of that was an accident, but I want to hear it from you. I want to hear the truth” And now, Drent noticed that the man's fists were clenched. “Did she, or did she not, order the three of you to do that? To humiliate me and my friends during the tourney?”

[Admit the truth] [Try to lie to him]

Kersea

On a surface level, Oldtown had barely changed since she'd last been there. It had been months and back then, the city had been torn with violence, split between the Burned Man and Butterfly. Things weren't much better now, at least at first glance. There was still a rotten aura all around it, a palpable menace. This was no place she'd want to raise a child in. The thought that her sister had been trapped in here for years, it still broke her heart.

But there was something else. Something she only slowly realized, after she and Leonard had passed the northern gates. The chaos they had left was still there, but the Burned Man and Butterfly were no more. It was merely the beginning of a new age for Oldtown and in the faces of those they passed, she saw something she hadn't seen before. Hope.

Leonard however seemed worse than ever. Returning to Oldtown, a place so heavily connected to Butterfly, to Clayton, it hadn't been easy for Kersea, but he, he took it worse than her. Never one to be particularly chatty, she noticed that he was even more quiet than usual. His face was a mask, expressing outward calmness, yet she knew that wasn't even remotely true.

“What's going through your mind?”, she asked and Leonard frowned, now openly. “I keep thinking how I'd rather be anywhere but here”, he admitted. She gave him a nod. “Tell me all about it”, she replied sarcastically and he rolled his eyes. “There's nowhere I want to be more than with my sister”

He nodded at that. “I'd rather be in Raylansfair, wrapping my hands around Mullendore's throat”, he told her. “Instead I'm here, stuck with you” She sighed. “And yet you don't want me to leave”, she spoke, to which he gulped. “If you'd try, I'd be the first to put a sword through your back”, he promised her, though there was no threat in his words. He was simply stating the obvious and somehow, this made his contempt all the worse. “Look, I don't hate you, not anymore I guess, but make no mistake. The reason you're here is to redeem yourself. Willing or not, you did an awful lot to help Mullendore”

“I know”, Kersea replied thinly. “And trust me, I won't leave. Even if you'd send me away I wouldn't do it. I want to look in the mirror without hating the person I see” This caused Leonard to raise an eyebrow. “And I can actually respect that”, he admitted. “I just want you to know where we're standing” He shrugged. “Though I appreciate the help against Drake. Keep it up and you might get out of this alive”

She raised an eyebrow. “How utterly merciful of you”, she said, forcing a smile and an uncomfortable silence followed. Thankfully, it only lasted for a moment, before a heavy hand landed on her shoulder. Pulling her and Leonard into a hug from behind, Magnus Silverstone had approached them.

Over the past week of travelling, the man had remained a mystery for Kersea. He was a liar that much was clear to her. Spending a lifetime in the presence of liars made it easy to spot them. Claiming to hail from Dorne, his accent was impeccable, yet she knew it was unlikely to be the truth. So, Essos, perhaps to the far east, farther than Kersea had ever been.

Leonard shot him a glare, but the man replied with a charming smile. “Ah, my friends, why the long faces?”, he asked. “It is a beautiful day, in a city of opportunity!” Kersea managed a smirk. “We're not here for opportunity”, she replied and he nodded. “Ah, of course”, he agreed. “Your mysterious quest. I suppose you are still as tight-lipped as ever about it, yes?”

“You bet”, Leonard replied in her case. “And trust me, it'll be for the better. If you'd know, you'd be in danger” Magnus gave him a wide smile. “Or perhaps I could help”, he offered, causing Leonard and Kersea to share a look of disbelief. She subtly shook her head and Leonard cracked a thin smirk at her reaction. “How could you?”, he asked. “You got any contacts in Oldtown?”

Magnus' nod was enthusiastic, but Kersea was wary about telling him more than necessary. She and Leonard had quickly come to a silent agreement when it came to their travelling companions. Their destination was the same, but their goals were utterly different. In fact, she had still no idea what Magnus even wanted in Oldtown, for his stories contradicted themselves more often than not.

“Oh, the city loves me!”, he claimed, glancing at the crowd they were passing. “Isn't that right, my friend?”, he yelled towards a passer-by. The man raised an eyebrow briefly, but headed his own way without stopping. “Fuck off, nutjob”, he merely growled in return and Magnus gulped. “A tough love, I see”, Leonard replied, his voice oozing sarcasm.

“Well, perhaps they have forgotten”, Magnus admitted. “But the Citadel hasn't. Do you, by any chance need to go there?” Kersea narrowed her eyes. “And why would you want to help us?”, she asked, to which he winked at her. “It is simple, fair lady”, he replied. “I hate being in debt to someone. Magnus Silverstone is a free man, more than anything else. You saved my life and Bennett's too. So, is it that hard to believe that I want to repay you in kind?”

“Given the sort I had to deal with for years, you'd be surprised”, she told him, but to her surprise, Leonard put an arm around the man's shoulder. “You have contacts to the Citadel?”, he asked. Sensing an opportunity, Magnus lit up. “Well, it's no Archmaester, but there's several who owe me a favour. Alchemists and the like, who in return have contacts that go beyond what you'd expect from the Citadel”

Once more, Leonard glanced at Kersea. “Could be useful”, he admitted. “And we might indeed need your help. The Citadel is one goal of ours” Thankfully, Magnus used this opportunity to remove his grip around their shoulders and Kersea stretched her back. “Splendid!”, he exclaimed. “Ah, I can see just how we're going to help each other. Shall we head there right away?”

This time, Leonard shook his head. “First, Kersea and I gotta take care of something else”, he told him. “Why don't you go there first and we meet up with you in a bit?” Magnus' smile faded slightly, but he still kept it up. “Why, that would be a splendid idea”, he admitted. “Me and Bennett, we have to meet up with an old friend of mine either way. So, does it mean we part ways for now?”

“For now”, Leonard agreed, before he stopped. Shaking hands with Magnus, he patted him on the shoulder. “But we'll meet up again. Perhaps later this evening?” Magnus nodded. “We'll be at the Citadel”, he replied, before he placed a hand on Bennett's shoulder. The boy gave Kersea and Leonard a nod, before both turned around, walking down the main street.

Kersea sighed, as she looked after them. “You know we cannot trust him, right?”, she asked and Leonard nodded grimly. “But it gets them off our trail for now. Seems like an easy way to buy us time until we decide what to do about him”, he told her. “I don't know what he wants, if he even means ill at all, but I figured we gotta get rid of him for now if we want to visit your friend”

“He's not my friend”, Kersea reminded him. “I never even met the man, to be honest, but I know where to find him” Leonard shrugged. “Means the same to me. We can't have Magnus knowing where that guy lives. If we are to stay here for longer, we must have a place to stay in secret. Can he help us with that?”

She nodded. “Probably”, she replied, as she took the lead. It had been years, but even before getting to know her better, Alysanne's presence had the occasional benefit. And she had told her where to find acquaintances, contacts in major cities, people who might one day be able to help her. “So, what can you tell me about him?”, Leonard asked.

“His name's Vitihho”, she began to explain, as she led Leonard off the main street. “He's a merchant, at least that's what Alysanne claims. Used to be a sellsword, the kind that deals with... well, with people like me” Leonard frowned. “I already don't like him”, he complained and she smirked. “Alysanne once called him a friend, but I know she meant acquaintance”, she continued. “He settled down here in Oldtown half a decade ago. No more sellsword work for him, but he kept the contacts”

“What, did he develop a conscience?”, Leonard asked and she shook her head. “He started to get old”, she replied. “Must be in his forties by now. In my world, that's where you either stop or you die” She shrugged. “But I don't know the man. Might have been a conscience thing after all. It takes a special person to work with Clayton for so long without being abhorred by him”

“Takes a special person to settle in Oldtown, for crying out loud”, Leonard brought up. “You can't tell me he picked up honest work in here” To this, she shook her head. “As I said, he kept the contacts. Black market deals, unsavoury clients. According to Alysanne, Vitihho is the sort of man who can get you anything for the right price”

With this, she tilted her head, as they entered another alleyway. “What's the deal with you and this city either way?”, she asked. “I don't like it either, but I've been to worse places” To her surprise, Leonard raised an eyebrow. “Then you have my condolences”, he said wholeheartedly. “Nobody deserves a place worse than Oldtown” She noticed that his fists were clenched. “But nah, I don't want to talk about it, if that's what you mean. Brings back bad memories, that's all”

It wasn't all and she knew it. However, if there was one thing she had learned about Leonard Constantine in the past months, it was to respect his privacy. After a while of silence, the knight spoke up again. “And you never met the man?”, he asked. Kersea shook her head. “I stood guard once, outside, while Alysanne had a talk with him”, she replied. There was one aspect she kept silent from him and it was just what Alysanne had been doing at Vitihho's place. She had her doubts Leonard would appreciate a man so freely selling poison to someone as unstable as Alysanne.

“So, we have no idea if he's going to help us?”, the knight asked. To this, Kersea smirked slightly. “He never asks questions. Always been there for people like me, at least that's what Alysanne said. He owed her a couple favours, apparently”, she replied, but talking about her friend left her unable to keep up the smile for long. “So yeah, he will help us”

By now, they had left the busy part of Oldtown. Tanner's Alley was a bad place even for this city. Once firmly in Butterfly's territory, it had taken his absence particularly hard. Her skilled glance quickly revealed to her that half of the buildings stood empty. Of course, it had never been any pleasant, but seeing these houses as nothing but abandoned shells, it was hard to watch.

“We're there”, she just said, as she quickly approached a wooden gate. Opening it, she revealed a small backyard, with a single door leading into the building itself. Narrow windows allowed anyone inside a good view of the new visitors, while she herself was unable to see anything in there. It was the place that instinctively caused her to tense up and she noticed how Leonard's hand was clenched heavily around his sword. “Keep that sheathed if you don't want any trouble”, she warned him and he followed her advice for once. After a moment of hesitation, she knocked at the door.

At first, nothing happened. Leonard took a step back and Kersea narrowed her eyes. “Perhaps he isn't...”, the knight said, as footsteps sounded from the other side. The door got opened, just a tiny bit, before being pushed open a bit farther, revealing the man behind.

He was tall, taller than Leonard even, with the build of a seasoned warrior and skin a shade of dark bronze. While numerous wrinkles on his face hinted at his true age, his dark brown hair showed no sign of grey. Part of it was tied into a loose knot, though some strands fell down onto his shoulders. A short beard covered his flat chin and his dark eyes were narrowed. His impressive upper body was covered merely by a vest, leaving his massive, hairy arms uncovered, though Kersea's nervousness grew as she realized she was only able to see one of his hands, the other hidden behind the door, probably holding a weapon of sorts.

“Who the fuck are you?”, he growled in a deep voice. Unlike Magnus, he did not bother to hide his accent, even if his common tongue was flawless. Kersea gulped, before she shot him a smile. “My name is Kersea, this is Leonard”, she revealed. “We're here to talk to Vitihho. Have we come to the right place?” The man narrowed his eyes, spitting onto the ground in front of her. “Who told you that name?”, he asked.

Briefly, she closed her eyes. “I am a friend of Alysanne”, she told him. “Alysanne Waters, you do remember...” He cut her off. “Alysanne has no friends”, he stated in a gruff voice. “Means you have come to the wrong place” Before she was able to say anything else, he had closed the door once more.

A moment of silence passed, as Kersea blinked, staring at the closed door in front of her. Then laughter cut through the afternoon air. She threw a glare over her shoulder, where Leonard was chuckling wildly. “You have come to the wrong place”, he repeated, mocking the man's accent. “Oh, this was beautiful! Do it again, embarrass yourself!”

She groaned in frustration, as she shook her head. “Stop laughing!”, she demanded and he continued to giggle slightly. “Yeah, you're telling me again how that guy is going to help us?”, he replied. “Just what I expected from someone dealing with your lot” Her glare grew more furious, as she shook her head. “Just shut up and listen”, she spat.

To her surprise, he actually did just that, giving her a nod to continue. “It's something Alysanne just said”, she explained. “Vitihho's the secretive kind. Guess that's to be expected in his line of work, but he won't just order us in like that” She shrugged. “I expected that”, she lied and Leonard raised an eyebrow. “So, you mean he's testing us?”, he asked.

“Yeah, kind of”, Kersea confirmed and the knight smirked. “So what, you just intend to knock on his door until he gets tired and hears you out?”, he asked. “That'd show your determination” Before she could throw him an angry glare, she realized he was only half joking. Admittedly, it would show determination and all she needed was five quiet minutes with the man to tell him what happened to Alysanne, to hopefully win his support.

“I considered sneaking in”, she told him. “Buildings like that, they always have a second way in” To this, Leonard shook his head. “Way too dangerous”, he protested. “That man's armed, probably ready for violence. What do you think he'll do if he finds you sneaking around?”

“Hopefully, he'll invite me for a chat”, she told him, though she had to admit, her plan didn't sound too solid either, upon closer consideration. But what choice did she have? If Vitihho was unwilling to listen, forcing him to do just that sounded like the only option. She just knew, she was not willing to give up. They needed help here in Oldtown, a solid place to stay and the resources that came with a man of his profession.

[Knock again] [Find another way into the building]

Lord_EAA · September 2018

Great part Liquid!!

[Admit the Truth] Because honesty is great.

[Find another way into the building] This is often a good choice.

drdestroyer18 · September 2018

[Admit the truth]
[Knock again]
So This is the first time I have seen the first part of the chapter been released so when this chapter is finished it will be the first chapter I would have gone through live. Now I don't know how long that will be but I hope it will be shorter then 9 months this time.
Anyway, can't wait to see what's going to happen in this chapter, I have a feeling it will be a good one.

InGen_Nate_Kenny · September 2018

[Try to lie to him] Do, or do not. There is no try.

[Knock again] Knock knock. Who's there? Dozen. Dozen who? Dozen anybody want to let me in?

Argella, as he realized, would likely use a fancy word to describe the region, such as archaic, and he smirked at the thought. At the same time, it reminded him of how much he missed her. The ring she had given him was always close. It was a woman's ring, made for slender hands, so he had to wear it on a thin leather strap around his neck, hidden beneath his tabard.

My preciousssssssssss

supersagig · September 2018

[Admit the truth]

[Knock again]

Great chapter!

knowyourenemy · September 2018

[Try to lie to him]
[Find another way into the building]

Edinosaur23 · September 2018

[Admit the truth] He won't take too kindly being lied to. I know is probably still very far away, but The Last Storm occurred in the hills near Bronzegate.

[Find another way into the building] Honestly both ways will probably lead to the guy, so I hope this one is a better choice. Bad memories is certainly an understatement for Leonard.

GMSforresthood · September 2018

[Admit the truth]
[Find another way into the building]

WildlingKing · September 2018

There was this feeling of looming threat in Drent's part, almost like our stormlander pals are marching to their deaths Nonetheless, I'm sure the coming battle with the Targaryens will be spectacular. The hype is rising

[Admit the truth] It's not like Warrick can blame Drent for following the Princess' orders/wishes. I doubt Drent and Warrick will be friends any time soon, but perhaps he'll at least appreciate Drent's honesty. If anything he'll probably just be angry at Argella.

[Knock again] Hmm, perhaps a different choice of words could work? I just feel like sneaking into this guy's house is not the way to make him want to help us

DiverseGnu · September 2018

[Try to lie to him]
Let's try to keep the Durrandon bannermen loyal, we wouldn't want them defecting to the Targaryens because Argella humiliated them.

[Knock again]
Sneaking in could easily result in bloodshed. And man, did this part make me miss Alysanne.

LiquidChicagoTed · September 2018

Ah, trust me, I hope it won't take me even remotely that long. Of course, the last chapter has been longer than usual (over a hundred pages more than the first chapter of Book 2), but even then, the time it took me has been inexcusably long and I can only thank everyone for their patience. That being said, there have been outside factors that slowed my writing down in an already ambitious chapter, so if not for them, I am certain I would have been done with it in June or July. In this chapter, I will repeatedly try and go for two PoV's per part, which should overall lead to more content to read at once and a nicer pace in general. So, I still have the hopes that I'll be done with this chapter by the end of this year. Definitely, I do not want another 9 months with one chapter and I'll take the necessary steps that this is never going to happen again, even if it is in the nature of this story that it is constantly growing.

LiquidChicagoTed · September 2018

He won't take too kindly being lied to. I know is probably still very far away, but The Last Storm occurred in the hills near Bronzegate.

Aye, that is where the Last Storm will eventually be fought, in this very area. Of course, it'll still be some time away (think, a very long time), but it is quite likely that Drent and the others have unknowingly passed the exact location on their way to Bronzegate.

Honestly both ways will probably lead to the guy, so I hope this one is a better choice. Bad memories is certainly an understatement for Leonard.

It's true, both ways have a good chance of leading to success, but there might be differences in the way Vitihho will react to them. When it comes to Leonard, bad memories is truly an understatement. Last time he's been to Oldtown, he went there with two people who are both dead by now, to look for a third who is, you know it, dead by now. Especially Lunett's death is haunting him deeply. At the same time, he plays it off as mere bad memories in order to not show any weakness in front of Kersea, whom he still doesn't trust enough for that.

LiquidChicagoTed · September 2018

There was this feeling of looming threat in Drent's part, almost like our stormlander pals are marching to their deaths Nonetheless, I'm sure the coming battle with the Targaryens will be spectacular. The hype is rising

Aye, that was very much intentional! The Stormlanders have been sent as a relief effort for Lord Buckler, to support his own troops, but as this part has shown, there are preciously few troops present as it is, means the two hundred Bernard has brought with him are the only ones standing between Orys Baratheon just flat out conquering Bronzegate. That is never a good feeling to have and the soldiers are all too familiar with it.

It's not like Warrick can blame Drent for following the Princess' orders/wishes. I doubt Drent and Warrick will be friends any time soon, but perhaps he'll at least appreciate Drent's honesty. If anything he'll probably just be angry at Argella.

True, there is objectively little to hate Drent for, he merely followed Argella's wishes. And while she did explicitly leave him the choice, she is not used to her wishes being rejected. Trust me, he already is angry at Argella though, if not for his looming suspicion about her orchestrating the whole thing, then at least for her absolutely cold behaviour around the three of them. We'll learn a bit more about him as a character in Drent's next part, giving you a better idea how he feels about all this.

LiquidChicagoTed · September 2018

Let's try to keep the Durrandon bannermen loyal, we wouldn't want them defecting to the Targaryens because Argella humiliated them.

Well, at least the fathers of Bernard, Jonathan and Warrick are pretty much the most loyal Durrandon bannermen around. There might be more important and powerful houses serving House Durrandon, but few can claim to have such strong loyalty. However, each of these lords only ever knew Argilac, who is a ruler to appreciate and reward loyalty. Argella does it as well, but we know she might be harder to get along with on a personal level. The three suitors will be the next lords of their houses one day (with the exception of Jonathan, who is a second son and therefore not expected to inherit), so if they get a negative opinion on their future queen, it could very well change something in the way they view her and their loyalty to the throne in the things to come.

And man, did this part make me miss Alysanne.

Since Agent is currently not entirely caught up with the story, I feel the need to react with this emoticon in his stead:
But yeah, Alysanne is a character I miss as well, even if I feel there was a good end to her arc, in terms of narrative. Her relationship with Vitihho would have been especially interesting to explore, because they do have an interesting connection, perhaps the closest thing Alysanne ever had to a positive relationship before getting close to Kersea. I hope I can properly establish this through Kersea's interaction with the guy in the events to come.

LiquidChicagoTed · September 2018

The Voting is closed!

Drent is going to admit the truth to Warrick Fell

Kersea is going to knock again

I am particularly glad about the first choice here, because I think it shall lead to a rather interesting dialogue between Drent and Warrick. The latter is in some particular need of development, so I am very pleased with this opportunity. Meanwhile, Kersea's choice, I am more neutral about. Both routes have a point and we'll see how it works out next time we see her. Hopefully, it won't be too long this time, with my goal of pushing more parts with two PoV's hopefully resulting in an overall faster pacing and less time between the parts for any particular PoV.

The next part should be out later today. I am currently writing a Garthon part, though I might have room for another PoV, which is what I'm aiming for. This second PoV will be either Kyra or Edrick, to get the Riverlands started for this chapter. Since there will be a bit of a timeskip for Garthon, I don't think much of a recap is needed, only that his next part will deal with his previous choices, about advicing Petyr Blackwood to invite Lord Piper and to help Maurice with uncovering the supposed traitor in Raventree Hall, whereas Kyra will continue her story in Harrenhal, while Edrick might hopefully have a shot at escaping from Faronhall. As I said, it should be out later today and I hope you'll enjoy it

LiquidChicagoTed · September 2018

Apologies for the longer wait. While writing, I came to the conclusion to rewrite an extensive portion of the beginning of this part, probably for the better. I also decided to give Garthon and the new characters introduced here the entire part for themselves. This means, Kyra and Edrick will return next time. Hope you enjoy this one

Garthon

Whenever Garthon closed his eyes, he could see him again. Torvin, a look of pained surprise on his face, blood running down his vest. He could see him clearer than he truly did on that day, him and Anturion, still holding the knife he used to murder his brother. A frown flashed over his face, before he opened his eyes again, just after a loud knock sounded on his door.

The room Lord Blackwood had given to him was small, but it had all he needed, for himself and his few belongings. Not that he spent much time in there either way. The last weeks had been busy and Garthon had spent most of his time in the company of the Blackwood family, either with Lord Petyr, or with his heir, Ethan, a young man of nineteen years, eager to prove his worth in the war to come.

“Come in”, he spoke and the door got opened carefully. He recognized the woman immediately. She was in his age, with blonde hair, tied into a proper bun and a slightly freckled face. Beautiful, in her own, simple way, she wore a dress more expensive than what a woman of her position could usually afford and he had to admit, she wore it well.

He suppressed a sigh. “Hello, Marie”, he said and she gave him a kind smile. “Ah, you're awake”, she said. “Sorry to bother you, but the lord has called for you” Garthon raised an eyebrow, as she fully entered the room. “I'm not certain, but it seems our guests have arrived”

This actually caused him to almost jump up. “Already?”, he growled and she shrugged. “I saw riders approaching”, she revealed. “And Lord Blackwood called for you. I can put two and two together” Garthon frowned. “They were supposed to arrive in a fortnight from now”, he said and Marie chuckled. “Maurice seems similarly bewildered”, she revealed. “At least as far as I can tell. I try not to get in his way too often”

Garthon nodded at this, almost absent-mindedly, as he reached for his cloak. Thankfully, he had taken a bath just the day before, so he felt somewhat presentable, but he knew, Lord Piper's early arrival would cause trouble for some members of Petyr's family. Perhaps that was one of the benefits of being Ironborn among Greenlanders. Nobody would ever expect much from him.

He carefully mustered the woman in front of him. As Maurice had requested, he had kept a closer eye on her for the past week. Marie Redloon, sister-in-law of a turncoat. Velmont was perhaps the worst the Riverlands had to offer, but so far, there had been no sign that they were in contact. She hadn't been near the ravenry at all, not even after Lord Petyr had informed his subjects about the arrival of Lord Piper. If anything, it proved that she hadn't sent a message to Harrenhal, at least not on that way.

“I saw you spending more time with him”, Marie spoke and Garthon snapped out of his thoughts. She raised an eyebrow. “Maurice”, she specified. “Surprised you two get along” Garthon smirked. “I wouldn't call it that way”, he spoke. “It's not as if I like him, but we have to work together”

Her smile faded. “Yeah, I get that”, she admitted, as he reached for his boots. “Just... I don't trust him. Maybe it's just the looks, as shallow as it sounds, but I never warmed up to him. Don't get me started on his manners. Any girl can sing a song about that around here, if she looks just half good” She turned to the door, opening it for him as he approached. “If you have to work with him, just be careful”, she warned him.

This was something that caused Garthon to hesitate. Why would she warn him of Maurice? Perhaps it was honest distrust on her part, a sort of concern. Or maybe it was a traitor's attempt to sow discord among allies. After three weeks at Raventree Hall, he knew neither of the two well enough to know for certain, but truth be told, he was not fool enough to trust Maurice completely.

“I can look after myself”, he assured her, as she followed him into the hallway. From his window, he had a good view onto the courtyard and it was only a short walk down a narrow staircase until he got out of the keep. From this side of the courtyard, the massive godswood was particularly menacing and it was a sight he hadn't gotten used to yet. Admittedly, Garthon had never been a religious man. Torn between two worlds, he had been raised as any true Ironborn would, but most of his life, he had spent on the mainland, where they had seven gods instead of one. If he knew one thing though, it was that the old gods of the forest weren't his. And they knew it as well.

Arriving at the courtyard, Garthon quickly realized he had almost been too late. Petyr Blackwood was already there, surrounded by his family and quite likely half of Raventree Hall's servants. It was clear, the lord was just as surprised, his hair unkempt and greasy. Lady Evelyne next to him was a wholly different view though, her beauty impeccable. She had a hand on the shoulder of her daughter, while Ethan and Raymon stood closer to their father. Behind them, Garthon spotted Torvin Hale, a hand on his sword, as well as Maurice.

Even his companions were already present. Hjalgar was the only one of the three who had made any effort to groom himself. With his beard freshly trimmed and his hair tied back, he looked surprisingly fashionable. Gavin meanwhile made no attempts to hide his lowborn background, clad in simple grey, his massive arms crossed. And Christian seemed outright uncomfortable, his fists clenched, as he glanced around.

As such, it was him who spotted Garthon first. With a nod, he gained Hjalgar's attention and then Maurice's. He took position between both men, patting Hjalgar onto the shoulder and exchanging a brief handshake with Maurice. Then, Petyr noticed him. The Lord of Blackwood gave him a wide smile. “Ah, Garthon, good morning!”, he spoke. “And just in time”

He pointed at the open gate and through it, Garthon was able to see a group of riders slowly approaching. They bore no tabard that could hint at their identity and the closed carriage they accompanied looked similarly plain. It was small, perhaps the sort he would expect from a merchant and devoid of any sigil.

“You sure it's them”, he asked and Petyr nodded, this time displaying open excitement. “Elmont is more cunning than I would have thought”, he admitted. “This meeting must remain a secret. Imagine what would have happened had they arrived here sporting the Piper colours. Harren would send his men, probably a small army”

Maurice raised an eyebrow. “And I think we agreed not to talk about this too openly”, he whispered, glancing at Torvin Hale, who seemed to be oblivious to their talk. Instead, the ageing knight stood close to his daughter, placing a hand on her back. Lady Evelyne looked up, sharing a brief smile with her father, just as the guards on the walls sounded their horns.

The first riders entered the courtyard, forming a half-circle to allow the carriage to pass them. Lacking any tabards, they looked more like common sellswords, but there was something trained about their movement, the posture of experienced soldiers. As the carriage stopped a couple feet in front of Petyr Blackwood and his family, they descended from their steeds almost in unison. Bearing no shields, they merely had swords to defend their lord, yet it made them seem even less suspicious.

As the door of the carriage got pushed open, the first to leave was a man. Perhaps in his late thirties, his stern expression made him look older than he truly was. His brown hair was tied into a short ponytail, while a goatee covered his chin. With calm, serious eyes, he scanned his surroundings and Garthon's gaze fell upon the sigil on his chest. He frowned mildly as he did not recognize it. The houses of the Riverlands were numerous and he would never claim to know about all of them, but he knew the maiden on blue, the sigil of House Piper. Above long chainmail, this man wore a white tabard, depicting a trio of barrels.

“House Lolliston”, Maurice whispered in a low tone, having noticed Garthon's confusion. “One of Piper's bannermen. This must be Lucas, his right hand. Heard Piper never leaves his castle without him” The man crossed his arms, before stepping aside, allowing the next person to leave the carriage. This one outright required his help. It was a thin man, a notable few years older than Lolliston. He had a gaunt face and sunken eyes, putting emphasis on the rest of his features, making them notably sharper than they probably truly were. His thin body was clad in simple blue, a thin white cloak across his shoulders. Brown, a bit lighter than Lolliston's and with grey streaks in it, fell down his shoulders, while the first hint of wrinkles on his face. One of his hands clutched a wooden cane and he frowned mildly as he left the carriage, displaying a heavy limp on his left leg.

Finally, a young woman followed, the kind that would have done more than just turned some heads over in Harrenhal. Light-brown hair framed a delicate face, falling down to her back, the portion below her shoulders tied into a demure braid, while her shapely figure was hidden beneath a high-collared, dark blue dress. Around her neck, she wore a silver necklace with the sigil of House Piper engraved into it. Though she had her gaze lowered, her light blue eyes momentarily darted across the gathered crowd. Briefly, she locked eyes with Garthon and he noticed the sharp intelligence in them. She was downright stunning, though a bit too young for Garthon himself, clearly not being much older than sixteen years, perhaps seventeen. Petyr's young sons were unable to keep their gaze off her though and with slight disgust, Garthon noticed the same applied to Maurice.

“Will you look at that”, the man mumbled beneath his breath, his eye twitching mildly as his stare shamelessly wandered across the young woman's body. “Seems like you made a good call after all, Breaker” His grin was wide, as the trio approached, the limping man in the middle. “At least I prefer her over Frey's chinless brat”

At least he cut himself short the moment the guests had gotten close enough to hear his words. Petyr took a step forward, as the limping man stopped in front of him. For a moment, they looked at each other, before both began to smile, giving each other a brief hug. “Elmont Piper!”, Petyr exclaimed.

“I was afraid you wouldn't recognize me” Elmont replied. “Seems the years haven't been kind to each of us” Petyr nodded. “It's been, what, fifteen years?” Lord Piper chuckled. “That was before the whole mess with my leg”, he spoke. “By the gods, it has been too long, my old friend”

Now, a wide grin flashed over Petyr's bearded face, as Elmont turned to his companions. “May I introduce my friend”, he said, turning to the man to his right. “Lucas Lolliston, castellan of Pinkmaiden” The man took a step forward, a hand moving through his goatee, before he took a slight bow. “Your humble servant, mylord”, he spoke in a quiet tone.

“And who might that young lady be?”, Petyr asked, as the girl to Piper's right stepped forward. She and the lord of Pinkmaiden exchanged a brief, fond look. “Why, none less than the reason I'm here today”, he replied. “May I introduce my eldest daughter, Mariya”

Mariya Piper only slightly rolled her eyes. “You sell yourself short, father”, she told him, before she took an elegant curtsy in front of Petyr and his family. Lord Piper shook his head. “It is true though”, he admitted. “To be honest, I was not sure about your invitation. Travelling doesn't go easy for me these days and I know exactly what it is you wish to discuss, how dangerous it will be for both of our houses” He sighed. “But Mariya's too smart for her own good. She convinced me to discuss our terms with you”

“Is that so?”, Petyr asked, raising an eyebrow. This time, Mariya directly addressed the Lord of Raventree Hall, with a confidence that stood in contrast to her prim appearance, looking him straight in the eye without hesitation. “The Ironborn are a menace on our lands”, she told him. “Pinkmaiden lies near the border. Countless Piper men have been wasted in Harren's war. If we stand divided, he will continue to do just that, taking our men until nothing is left of our houses. Both of our families have suffered enough at the hands of these monsters”

The way she spoke about his people caused Garthon to tense up. Of course, he should be used to it by now, but there was genuine hatred in Mariya's voice, despite her young age. Petyr nodded at this. “In that case, I think I should come clean about something”, he said softly. “Maurice convinced me against including this in my letter, in case someone else reads about it” As he said this, Garthon briefly glanced at Maurice in surprise and the man gave him a brief wink. “We actually do have an Ironborn guest here in this very moment”, Petyr revealed.

Mariya's eyes widened, as she instantly stared at Garthon, while Lucas Lolliston placed a hand on the hilt of his sword. “You work with the Ironborn, Petyr?”, Elmont asked and the Lord of Raventree Hall shook his head. “Just one of them”, he said. “Mylord Piper, may I introduce Garthon Breaker, brother of the late Torvin Breaker. The name should mean something to you”

“It does”, Elmont agreed, as he carefully mustered Garthon. There was a cunning look in his eyes, no less than his daughter. “Edmyn Tully spoke highly of your brother”, he added. “Yet we heard news of his passing in Raylansfair. My condolences” He placed a hand over his heart, before he took a slight bow.

“Uh, actually there's two Ironborn here”, Hjalgar said, as he gave Mariya a weak smile, blushing slightly as the young woman raised an eyebrow. “I... I'm Hjalgar” He slightly and awkwardly waved his hand, before he gulped audibly. “It matters not where we come from”, Lucas spoke up. “So long as we can agree on our common goal” As he said these words, he looked at Garthon.

It was in this moment that Lady Blackwood, gently reached for her husband's shoulder. Petyr pulled himself together. “Ah, yes, of course!”, he said. “My honoured guests, allow me to introduce you to my better half, Evelyne” His wife stepped forward, as she took the hint of a curtsy in front of Lord Piper.

“And these are our children, Ethan, Raymon and Marian”, Evelyne introduced the three. Ethan took an elegant bow in front of Piper's daughter, followed up by a charming smile, while Marian tried to hide behind her grandfather. “As well as my father-in-law and captain of the guard, Ser Torvin Hale”, Petyr continued and as always, Garthon felt a slight sting when the man's name got mentioned. Torvin smiled widely, though there was something absent-minded in his gaze, as if he was lost in thoughts. “And, of course, my friend and advisor, Maurice”

Briefly, Maurice removed his gaze from Mariya, as he and Lucas Lolliston locked eyes. Though Lucas had his eyes narrowed, they exchanged a nod of respect. “Wonderful”, Elmont Piper spoke, as he limped closer. “It truly is a pleasure. Petyr, if this works out, you and yours have to visit me at Pinkmaiden, I insist”

“For now, there is a lot to discuss though”, Mariya remarked, casually cutting her father off. “We have travelled far, but the news we bring demand immediate talks” Petyr seemed slightly surprised by the way she spoke up, but Garthon caught Lady Evelyne smiling briefly. “Shall we take this to the Great Hall then?”, she asked. “I'll have the servants prepare something, to properly welcome you here” She clapped her hands. “Marie!”, she yelled and the young woman came closer. Though the servants had been standing a bit to the side, Garthon had to ask himself just how much of their brief talk she had listened to. And if not her, then Petyr's father-in-law. Though the old knight was seemingly hard of hearing, it could be an act, if Maurice's suspicion turned out to be true.

“Bring the belongings of our honoured guests to their rooms”, Evelyne ordered. “And make certain that the horses will be tended to” Marie nodded instantly. “At once, mylady”, she promised, before she approached the carriage. Petyr took a step aside, allowing Elmont to limp to his side, as they slowly began to walk to the Great Hall.

Mariya Piper however remained standing, her arms crossed over her belly and her head tilted slightly. As Lucas attempted to follow his lord, she stopped him with a faint touch to his elbow. Though the Piper guards followed their lord into the Great Hall, Lolliston remained by the young woman's side, as she looked at Garthon. “A word, Ser”, she said.

Garthon gave Hjalgar a nod and his friend followed after Gavin and Christian, who were already approaching the Great Hall. He remained there, with Mariya and Lucas. “Is there a problem, mylady?”, he asked and she sighed. “First of all, I would like to apologize”, she spoke. “Had I known about your presence, I would have picked my words with care”

He shrugged. “You mean when you called my people monsters?”, he asked and his mouth formed a crooked grin. She seemed confused by how easy he took this and only reluctantly joined in on the smile. “I've heard worse, Lady Piper, far worse. Hell, my own people have said worse about us”

“Right...”, Mariya said. “Nonetheless, it was rude. I know what your brother did for us, I heard about you, so I want this alliance to work. My father, Lord Blackwood and you” She looked past him, to where Petyr and Elmont had almost reached the Great Hall. “Yet that is precisely the reason I want to talk. I have heard about you”

Garthon raised an eyebrow. “Only good things, I hope”, he said and her smile grew equal parts smaller and more honest. “Some of them”, she admitted. “One of Lucas' friends, Ser Rickard Fowler, he has talked fondly of you. Called you the only Ironborn he'd ever trust”

“High praise”, Garthon replied. “Yet I don't think you are here to exchange pleasantries” He crossed his arms, carefully looking into her light blue eyes, trying not to be distracted by her beauty. The calm intelligence in her eyes was clear to see now, the sort of confidence that came with knowledge. Her smile faded into a smirk. “You are correct”, she admitted. “And I am afraid what I want to talk about is concerning to me”

Garthon gulped, as she glanced at Lucas Lolliston. The man straightened his back. “You probably don't remember me, but we have met before”, he spoke. “Half a year ago, in Harrenhal. I was sent by Lord Elmont to listen to King Harren's decree, after your brother failed to kill him. Just a face in the crowd, but I remember you quite vividly, you and your brother”

And then, Garthon realized what Mariya and Lucas were going for. “You saw how he knelt”, he spoke and Lucas nodded, as Mariya's face darkened. “I am sorry for your loss, Ser”, she spoke and her words were honest. “But the Riverlands are at war and the enemy is our own king. It's not an open war yet, but it will only be a matter of time until Harren makes his move”

“You saw how Torvin knelt and now you are unsure if you can trust me”, Garthon said tonelessly. He wasn't exactly surprised. Perhaps he would have had similar concerns in Mariya's situation. Her nod came reluctantly and he clenched his fists, not in anger at her, but in a moment of sheer rage at the king who did all this. “Then you know Harren murdered his child”, he growled.

“We know”, Lucas confirmed. “And yet your brother knelt, to the man who murdered his only child. On that day, Torvin nearly snuffed out the flame he himself had just started. He showed us all that Harren could be defeated, but in that moment, the fresh scars he bore made him seem stronger than ever. It was thanks to other men that the spark kept burning, men such as Tully, Frey and Blackwood”

“My brother had no choice”, Garthon mumbled and Mariya took a step forwards. “But you have, Ser”, she told him, before she bit down onto her lower lip. “Questioning your allegiance is not my intention, nor do I want to distrust you. The king wants you dead. I can trust a man in your position to help our cause”

“But?”, Garthon asked, his eyebrow raised. Mariya sighed. “But I want to know how far you are willing to go”, she revealed, before she raised her hands. “It won't affect how I see you. You are an ally to Lord Blackwood and that makes you an ally to the Riverlands. But the Riverlords have a history, all of them. There's hatred between them, sometimes stronger than the hate they have against their king”

He nodded. “So I have heard”, he agreed. “And I can assure you, there's nothing I am not willing to do when it comes to defeating Harren Hoare” She raised an eyebrow. “But we won't stop there, Ser”, she told him. “Harren is the enemy, but there's more. I want freedom for the Riverlands. Never again shall an Ironborn king rule over us”

“Understandable”, he said, though her tone gave him an uneasy feeling. She was determined, he had to give her that. And if Maurice was right, then it was her who had pushed her father into this meeting in the first place. But her words caused him to pause. “I have heard of you, Garthon Breaker”, Mariya continued. “And this means I know you have friends in Harrenhal. There's a war coming and I believe you will have a role to play in it. But what will you do if your loyalty to Petyr Blackwood, to my people, will lead you against your friends among the Ironborn? Those few ties you still have to them, what if they are tested?”

Garthon frowned. “You mean to ask me if I'd turn on them”, he spoke and she nodded, just as reluctantly. “It brings me no joy to ask this, but such is the war we face”, she assured him. “And it won't change how I see you. I just know that there are lords who won't accept you if you are unwilling to commit fully. It could cause tension in an already fragile alliance”

She took a deep breath. “You are Ironborn and though you look and act like any of us, you have lived most of your life among them. You have friends there, fighting for Harren Hoare. I shall accept your help regardless, but I must know what to expect from you”, she explained. “Just think, the war forces you to make a move that could bring harm onto one of your friends on the other side. You could be forced to fight them even. I want to know if you could do that” A brief memory of Kyra flashed through his mind and Garthon had to admit, it was an excellent question. Could he do that?

[Tell her you are willing to turn on your Ironborn friends] [Tell her there are Ironborn you would not turn on]

supersagig · September 2018

[Tell her you are willing to turn on your Ironborn friends]

supersagig · September 2018

@LiquidChicagoTed great chapter!

drdestroyer18 · September 2018

[Tell her you are willing to turn on your Ironborn friends]

InGen_Nate_Kenny · September 2018

[Tell her there are Ironborn you would not turn on] I mean, I guess there are?

Poor Garthon, still reminded of Torvin. What a sad tale, for a sad man.

DiverseGnu · September 2018

[Tell her there are Ironborn you would not turn on]

Let's not turn Garthon into a heartless monster.

UntilDawna · September 2018