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“Brynden where are we going?”

“I said be patient.”

“It smells awful,” Obella whines, her vain attempts to break free from your grip over her eyes going unnoticed by yourself, “And it’s so hot and humid. For once I miss your cold castle.”

You cock your head to the side for a moment, sniff the air and shrug to yourself, “Smells like a normal summer day to me. And aren’t you dornish, since when do you complain of the heat?”

“Dorne is a desert, love. The heat is dry. Not this wet heat you northerners have. It’s unbearable and ruins my hair,” she snaps back with a quick pout, before asking again, “Where are we going?”

Shaking your head you gently open the door to the stables and lead your Ladywife into your personal stables. Goldsong stomps at the ground and shakes his head when you enter, clearly pining after the sugar cubes across from his stall. A couple of his progeny complain and bray from their own, the few you had been personally looking after, the little girl, one of his first had grown considerably since you first took her from Gawen, still not large enough to ride. Goldsong flares his nostrils when you stop to pet her with your free hand, allow the young horse to nuzzle against it for a moment.

“I’m not replacing you, old man,” you say, receiving another head shake in return and a low bray, that you retort to with, “Stop that, you aren’t a mule.”

Going to return to walking you find Obella has frozen in place and a cold sweat has begun to form on her brow running onto your hand, her voice comes as a low whisper, shaky and uncertain, “Brynden..? A-are we in the stable?”

Rolling your eyes you remove your hand and before you are to utter a response Obella gasps and wraps around and under your arm her eyes tightly shut and body shaking like a leaf in the wind. You stare at her with a dumbfounded look, not quite able to form a response, “Obella?”

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“Brynden, please. Please. PLEASE. Do not make me go near them. Please by the Seven above promise me you won’t make me go near them.”

---

Quentyn Qorgyle is absolutely rolling with laughter, his younger brother Quellon merely shakes his head before plunking another arrow into the target. Arron and Gulian give the you and the other two adults queer looks before beginning another round of their own competition.

“I thought she would have told you by now,” Quentyn says through his laughter, propping himself up on the longbow he had been using for the night, his face flushed from the dornish red and the exertion of laughter.

“You know she doesn’t like talking about it Quentyn,” Quellon says in a low monotone. The youngest Qorgyle sibling hadn’t been the most talkative of the three. You found him to be a bit more like his nephew, Arron. Quiet and precise, not the stereotypical dornishman at all. He tsks as his arrow just barely hits inside the second ring.

“But she married a HORSE Lord! It’s in the blood heraldry! How do you not tell the man whose living is breeding horses she is deathly afraid of them!” Quentyn bursts into laughter again and Quellon rolls his eyes before fixing you with a steady look, his eyes weren’t the deep purple that his elder brother and sister were, instead a dark brown.

“I’m guessing she told you what happened then?”

---

Obella continues to shake, having drawn her knees up to her chest as you sat under a large oak’s shade, some distance away from the stables. Your hand rubs her back and she allows her head to fall upon your shoulders.

“You’re scared of horses then?”

She shakes her head in the affirmative, trying not to let the tears in her eyes roll down her cheeks.

“And you haven’t told me this… Why?”

She responds with a half shrug and a burying her face further into your shoulder.

“Are you going to?”

Her voice responds with a soft whisper and sniffle, “I guess so...”

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You sit patiently, allow her a moment to collect herself, hand still rubbing her back.

“When I was little a pony bucked me off… She was the sweetest prettiest mare they could find my father told me. It was my eighth nameday present, all I had asked for that entire month was a pony, like any little girl’s dream,” she pauses and shakes her head, “It’s so stupid.”

“I’ve been bucked off plenty of horses Obella,” you respond, not quite having gathered the level of trauma the experience had entailed yet, “Hell half a dozen of them had bucked me off before I turn ten.”

“It wasn’t just that Brynden,” she says her voice slightly offended, “She didn’t like me at all. The pony bucked and went crazy, it took three men just to calm her down after I had fallen to the ground. Any time I would draw near her ears would lay flat, and she’d snap at my hand any time I tried to bring it near.”

Screwing your face up you look out at the yard where the horses were allowed to graze and exercise. Gawen was resting in the shade as a few of the stablehands were riding them about, Grant Conklyn was out there as well riding on the makeshift course they had constructed for him. You ask, “Why didn’t they get you a new horse then?”

“My father tried. Others refused to move once I sat upon them. Another ran off with me barely clinging on and refused to heed my commands. Quentyn had to chase us down and save me. The last one they got was an old man, so well tempered the horsemaster swore he was barely any good outside of riding lessons. He bucked me off too and I broke my wrist. When the maester was patching me up and I cried and lamented to him he told me perhaps it was not the horses, but me. I just offend them I guess. I never bothered to learn to ride after that, gave up my my dreams of having a pretty little pony. I just go by ship or failing that carriage, even though the horse drawn ones still make me nervous...”

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Sitting in quiet for a moment you have to repress the need to laugh at the situation, “You are aware of who you married right?”

Obella punches your arm, “An unsympathetic hothead sellsword with a bunch of horses. Yes,”
again she wraps herself around your arm, “They just… Scare me is all. From a distance they’re fine. I can watch them from here, Seven I could watch you ride for hours. I just don’t want anything to do with them.”

You sigh and run your hand through the back of her hair, slipping your fingers gently through and around the small knots that had formed from the humidity, “So long as I don’t have to get rid of them. Gawen might be cross with me if I had to throw out my collection just because my wife thought they were... tacky.”

Obella pauses and laughs at your poor joke nuzzling closer to you and allowing her legs to ease, the soft ripples of the golden sandsilk skirt pick up in the summer breeze, her tanned legs allowed some time in the sun.

---

Aim. Breath. Fire. Your arrow streaks across the practice range upon Steadhold’s roof and firmly lodges itself into the center of the target. Smirking at it you turn and see Quentyn’s face of confidence dissolve and his brother shaking his head in dismay.

“I don’t know how you fucking do that,”Quentyn says, “You have to be cheating.”

“Learn to be pretty accurate when the other guy is trying to kill you for about a decade. Besides we’re only at a third of my maximum pace,” you say with a laugh, “We could always do it on horseback if you think you’ll fare better at that Lord Qorgyle.”

Quellon laughs as his brother’s face turns to annoyance, “Afoot is fine, thank you.”

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“Suit yourself,” you say with a shrug allow the smile to play upon your lips as you turn and draw another arrow. The longbow had begun to suit you more and more as you became practiced with it again, still couldn’t fire the thing from horseback like Solhas and Barq Zos did with their goldenheart bows but perhaps someday. Your next arrow drifts slightly upward, striking just above the first and you can hear Quentyn’s exasperation and Quellon’s laughter a moment after. Taking leave of the circle you cross with Quentyn who is stretching out his bow and take up place next to his brother who hands you a few dragons, a small bet. Who could make Quentyn rage and quit first? An amusing game as you were both far better shots.

“My sister likes to keep her secrets,” Quellon says after a moment of allowing his brother to take is first shot in silence, barely knocking into the second ring, “I’m not surprised she hadn’t told you.”

You shrug, “A small matter in the end I’d suppose. Maybe someday I’ll work on it.”

Quellon snorts, “Doubtful. Best of luck when your children begin to wish to ride.”

Quentyn knocks his second arrow slightly better than his first, and just inside where his brother had, enough to cause him to puff up his chest and bang it like he had just won a battle single-handedly. His brother rolls his eyes towards you before trading places with Lord Qorgyle who takes up next to you in his place.

Quellon takes his first shot, actually giving you some competition with it and causing Quentyn’s bravado to fade and his face grow cross. He turns to you, “Suppose you told her about the plans for Highgarden?”

Sighing you nod, “Could you imagine had I not?”

Quentyn shudders, “I would likely not have a brother-in-law for much longer.”

---

Lorelei is a best

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“Are you truly so certain he will ask for a Trial by Combat?” Obella asks you the tinge of concern in her voice obvious and desire of the opposite evident upon it, “What if he asks for a trial by Faith? Or… Has an actual defense ready?”

“Three witnesses he hadn’t counted upon being alive or in my dungeon and his supposed overconfidence would suggest otherwise. More often than not a guilty man will resort to a trial by combat, their last resort to bring their accuser with them,” you respond, watching Gawen attempt to pull a large black destrier from the stables, two of the stablehands helping as much as they could. His side was bandaged up and he walked with a clear limp, but surprisingly the old warhorse you had commandeered from Aeror’s battlecamp survived the gruesome morning. One of the men-at-arms had found him wandering about with a dagger stuck in his side, and the cut still bleeding in the post battle. The first time you saw him in the stalls post battle had surprised you, further that he recognized you still and actually obeyed your hand, something Gawen was astonished by.

Obella nestles against you, allowing her leg to wrap around your own, her feet bare as she had kicked off her snakeskin saddles moments prior, “I’d suppose… I thought for once I would not have to worry as you left me. From what Illiad tells me you were unlikely to compete in the lists. Half the time would have been spent feasting with Reachlords and selling horses. Probably compete in the archery contest and that would be that. But now I learn you go off to war again. I cannot say I like it.”

Pausing you turn your head towards her, “Do you not plan to come?”

“And watch you try to kill yourself again? I think not,” she responds, “Besides, Lorelei will only be a month old, love. Neither her nor I are fit to travel, not that far, not this soon. And as much as I would love to see Highgarden and my place is by your side I think I would do better here.”

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You tsk, and feel somewhat deflated, surrounding yourself with family only built your confidence further but this trip felt like you were soon to be on your own. Mason and the Sons of Gold would be staying home, the former having little reason to return to his birthplace. Dontos and Victus would be staying in Chelsted as well, a letter yesterday had told you, they were still dealing with the fallout of the Invasion of the Princewood, pockets of bandits had continued to pop up even after the main camp had been defeated. And now you’d be without your wife and daughter. At least Wesley had agreed to come, and Quentyn and Quellon were quick to offer you place at their own camp, likely not too far from Prince Oberyn’s as well. Small solace, but it was certainly not your preferred result.

“Speaking of Highgarden, love,” Obella interrupts your idle thoughts, “Have you thought of how you are going to convince him to see a Crownlands issue in the Reach?”

---

“Well have you?” Quentyn asks.

“Obella had,” you respond from the circle allowing the arrow to fly a moment later, “As had my uncle Dontos. The latter had written to Lord Mathis Rowan and Argor Conklyn. They both recommended appealing to Mace Tyrell’s ego, his need to appear relevant upon the mainstage of the Seven Kingdoms. It is not by chance that he claims victory for the Battle of Ashford when it was Lord Tarly who had won the day.”

“And my sister?” Quellon asks.

“Much the same. Though suggested I befriend one of his primary bannermen, tell him of my woes. Have him sponsor the trial, Lord Paxter Redwyne, Randyll Tarly, Leyton Hightower, Florents possibly, those likes. Though Ser Mason recommends against the Hightowers. Bribes, trade, and feasting if necessary. Another friend among the Reachlords is hardly a poor idea regardless, she said.”

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“Sounds like Obella,” Quentyn responds, “Can’t say it isn’t a bad idea Brynden. Perhaps the Prince would be inclined to sponsor as well, failing all other things. Lord Tyrell would be loathe to decline Oberyn’s request, particularly given the man’s ego as your Uncle said.”

---

“When do you make leave for Highgarden?” Obella asks.

“Next week, as planned,” you respond, lazily playing with the ringlets of her hair, “Quentyn and Quellon both seem eager to be on the road and arrive early.”

She sighs, “I don’t have to say it do I?”

“Come home to you whole. Come home to you upon my feet, not upon my shield.”

“Or else.”

“Or else what?”

She looks up to you, pools of blue to drink in your emerald flame, “Or else Lorelei will grow up without a father and I will grow old without a husband. We dornish are known for our longevity love, particularly when we have something to live for.”

“And what is that?” you ask with a chuckle.

Her eyes narrow with a particular seriousness, her face hardened enough to tell you she was serious and for a moment not playing with her words as she so often did, the single utterance a reminder of what you lived for, of what had grown to consume so far that even your wife knew that you would not rest without it, “Revenge.”

---

Your second arrow thunks solidly into the center of the target and Quentyn throws his arms in the air, his bow falling to the ground. You laugh with Quellon as his brother stalks off to watch his son’s practice for a moment. Another three coins find place in your palm then quickly your pocket and patting him on the back, “Perhaps next time.”

“Perhaps next time in Sandstone,” Quellon says, “If you can manage to force my sister to return home for once.”

“A battle for another day I’m sure,” you say with a slight laugh, “Is House Qorgyle ready to depart?”

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“At daybreak, as planned my Lord,” Quellon responds stiffly, “I assume House Malroy is as well?”

Pausing you tick off the mental list of preparations you had done, nothing in particular had stuck out to you, everything was ready as far as you could recall. Mason and Obella had been discussing Steadhold and her well being while you were away, both planning on making an appearance at the Sept to help quell the commonfolk’s reaction to their Lord leaving for Tourney so soon after war and their plight having worsened. Apprentice Ashby and Elionwy had promised to see to your House’s affairs as you were gone, helping Obella and Mason making the necessary decision in the month and a half you would be away. Jonos Strouman and your other Captains were still working within the city and Princewood to assure law and order was kept. As far as you could recall and knew everything was in order, nothing in particular to remember.

>Anything to do in Steadhold before we leave for Highgarden? (Specifics please, if it’s more than minor I’ll attribute a small scene to it, if it’s minor I will address it as needed.)
>Nothing to do, time to go to Highgarden.

Traveling to Highgarden:
>Arron Qorgyle
>Illiad (Merchant)
>Steadhold Household Knights (Ser Lucas Longwaters, Ser Jon Pryor, etc.)
>Ser Wesley Hayford & House Hayford
>Lord Quentyn Qorgyle, Ser Quellon Qorgyle, & House Qorgyle
>Ser Lyonel Langly, Marceline Sand, & Captain Belidos (Witnesses)

Remaining Home:
>Lady Obella Qorgyle & Lorelei Malroy
>Ser Mason Flowers (Castellan) & Elionwy (Stewardess)
>Ser Dontos Malroy, Victus Waters, & House Chelsted
>The Sons of Gold (Ser Victor Haigh, Yondril, etc.)
>Remaining Military & Household unmentioned

Anyone else we’d specifically like to bring along?

>>47857217
Nope. Also good to see ya survived them scooping ya brains out dad!

>>47857217
>>Anything to do in Steadhold before we leave for Highgarden? (Specifics please, if it’s more than minor I’ll attribute a small scene to it, if it’s minor I will address it as needed.)

Bed Obella. Her should be healthy enough to do that now.

Otherwise i am not sure what else to bring or do.

>>47857217
Nah I'm good, let's do this thing.

Figured we'd start a bit slow today, probably doesn't help that my OP is the longest I've ever posted. Ah well.

>>47857378
>Bed Obella.
Safe to assume that happened and has been happening.

>>47857357
Oh that's not until tomorrow. I'll address that at the end of the thread since it's very blog-posty.

>>47857217
I suggest we make a show of seeing the small folk before we leave. Some token gesture and time spent telling them we will be looking to ease their plight as soon as we are able.

Leastways they then have an arguing point that we have come to see them, instead of disapearing without even showing face. Should keep them in arguing long enough (in the face of a rebellion) for us to do something about it.

>>47857436
>Figured we'd start a bit slow today, probably doesn't help that my OP is the longest I've ever posted. Ah well.

Dear lord father. You got a lot of pent up creative juice. If you are not careful it will clog up your brain.

>>47857461
Might be a good idea. Inspect the area a bit, make sure the people know they are being taken care of.

Also play with Lorelei!

Let her know she is the cutest of all our trueborns!

>>47857217
Write to Rickard to find a husband for Cecillia and Dorian!

>>47857461
>>47857507

I can work that into the next post. Maybe distribute some food from the castle, leftovers from the night's prior feast. That'll help relations.

>>47857565
Out of all one of them. How much playing can you do with a month year old? Hell if I know.

>>47857604
IC Brynden has no idea what's going on with Cecilia and Dorain outside of 'they are alive.' He doesn't really have cause or reason, nor has he shown recently particular care, to do that.

Anyway, doesn't look like anything major, I can slightly switch around how I'm going to do the next post and we'll be off.

>>47857664
>Out of all one of them. How much playing can you do with a month year old? Hell if I know.

Poke them on the cheek intill they say funny noises and talk to them in funny voices

What i did

I love you father.

I love you as much as goldsong loves sugar cubes

>>47857868
Don't forget his love of dothraki mares.

>>47857969
Neigh neigh motherfucker

>>47857969
Gonna see some rivalry between him and Blacksong ?

Evidently we need to curb our wifes horse fear by getting her a foal to look after until its grown.
Get it young enough and it should aclimatise to her, even if its the only horse who will ever let her ride it.

>>47857217
>Anything to do in Steadhold before we leave for Highgarden? (Specifics please, if it’s more than minor I’ll attribute a small scene to it, if it’s minor I will address it as needed.)
Sup Old Man, we gonna talk to the Princewood Rebel guy right? You know what we should've done already

>>47858020
seconded, give her one of Goldsong's many progeny.

>>47858271
>first thing it do is try bite her

Okay I swear the posts after this will be smaller and more timely, I just had to get through all the exposition.

Anyone else we’d specifically like to bring along?

“Nothing I can think of, I’ll warn tomorrow might be a bit of a meandering start,” you say after a moment of thought, “Obella thought it best I make my rounds around the town before I leave. Sign of goodwill and all.”

“As is expected of a proper Lord,” Quellon says, again speaking less like a dornishman than you would expect, “Of course. Quentyn and I will go on ahead, I am certain you will be able to meet with us when we break for camp.”

“To be certain,” you respond with a quick nod. Quellon offers his head which you take and he leaves off to be with his brother and nephews for the rest of the evening, allowing you a moment with Obella for the night. She had even managed to separate herself from Lorelei long enough that you maybe enjoy each others company in a more intimate nature. She seemed more aggressive than per usual allowing the moment to last long into the night and until the point of exhaustion for you both. She had finished you in her mouth, an action that drew a queer look from you but was a foggy memory in the afterglow that followed as you drifted off to sleep.

The early hours of your morning were spent with Lorelei, allowing her to nurse from a bottle of goat’s milk and putting her back down to sleep until her mother had time to collect her later on. Breaking your fast with quail eggs on toast with a side of thick cut bacon allowed you a chance to look over your supplies for the road, nothing particularly outstanding in truth but best to double check, old sellsword habit.

Another scroll had Apprentice Ashby’s flowing script detailing the gifts and goods you’d be bringing along. Three of your best horse’s from the rare bloodline for Lord Mace Tyrell and his son’s Willas and Garlan, boys both but likely to enjoy the gift of a golden horse. A handful of lesser quality for the many cousins. Another five score horses for trade and sale. Two score of the Myrish crossbows that Illion had made, Illiad had insisted upon it if nothing else they made exotic gifts and played to the sellsword persona. Perhaps if the right trade offer came along you would even find a lucrative trade deal. Dontos’ letter had made sure to remind you to bring the pavilion Lord Argor Conklyn had gifted you for the wedding, and to be certain to return the favor with a gift of your own, Kate Yarson was quick to the request and produced an exquisite longsword to serve the purpose, Illiad procured a scabbard of grey leather, that he swore was elephant hide from across the sea and had rubies inlaid into the pommel. A proper gift to be certain.

Mason finds you not soon after you finish your meal and sending the page off to assure everything is in order, not that you expected otherwise. He seemed in good spirits all things considered, after having found out that Obella intended to stay home you took the chance to ask if Mason would reconsider coming with you to Highgarden, returning to his childhood home.

“I’ve got no place there Brynden. Seven knows my father don’t want to see me and I know the Hightowers will be there. Last thing I need is to have them breathing down my neck again about the girl, undue attention when you are in a time of needing to make friendship and alliances. I’d sooner stay in Steadhold, this is my home now,” he said to you, his voice tinged with anger at the thought. Very rare was it that Mason got angry but if it was regarding his past, he was soon to moods of dark dourness and often refused to speak of it further there after.

Instead today he looked to you with a smile, his baby blue eyes lit up in the splendor of the stained glass windows that had been refurbished and reinstalled not a few days prior.

“The servants are ready Brynden. Four wagons filled with what was leftover from last night, another two with blankets and basic supplies. And two more filled with barrels of mead. As instructed. Water seems to be a non-issue, thankfully.”

“Let’s keep it that way for the duration, hm?”

“Of course Brynden. I promise no less than the best.”

You smile a crooked smile and begin to laugh, Mason joining in not soon after, “When did we become so formal with one another Mas?”

“When you decided to become a Lord, and I your bannerman.”

“Terrible decisions all around.”

“Aye, that they were,” Mason says with a smile, “Ready to go then?”

Pushing off from your seat you nod and follow after Mason to the front of the castle, Obella is there waiting for you, as are her brother’s who make leave not soon after a quick exchange. Captain Jonos leads his garrison into the town surrounding the wagons and your small entourage, most of the citizenry are happy to see you, most of them having lived here in the past year and half since your return and having little reason to doubt in you. They were living and you were kindly to them as you could be. The walls being rebuilt helped to quell their fears of war and for the most part the send off was met with cheers and happiness.

However those that lived in the lower districts of Steadhold, the not quite finished homes and tent cities were less than thrilled. Many of them had been saved from bondage and were living off your dragon as it was already, but supplies were limited and people tended to get restless when overcrowding and rumors swirled.

Ser Jon Pryor and Lucas Longwaters flanked Mason, Obella and yourself, the rest of the Household Knights on horseback behind to discourage any sort of violence or riots. Luckily, it hadn’t ever built to that. The overwhelming majority of the refugees were grateful for your unexpected charity. Happy to eat bread and salt from your table and wash it down with what you considered pisswater but to them was mana from the Seven. There were those that refused of course, the disenfranchised who still saw your leaving as you ignoring their plight but you hoped Obella and Mason’s presence would help that anger in time or at least stem it off until you returned.

Not a few hours later and you finally found yourself on the road east towards King’s Landing. Obella saw you off with a kiss and a handful of her ‘favor’ to see you through the month and half journey and Mason a promise to do you proud, as if it were necessary to make. Wesley met up with you near halfway through the day, his much smaller entourage melding into your own with flags of House Hayford’s motley green and yellow, the brown boar of House Hogg, and surprisingly a few of the brown claw of House Brune mixing with the golden courser of your own. At least you would have some family to accompany you on the trip. Wesley for his part looked far less the mess he had the last time you had seen him, having news of his young wife’s pregnancy to greet you with. Cause for celebration to be certain for his dying House and bloodline. It at the very least had given him back his old glow and he happily chatted with you, of Hayford and his father’s improving condition and of his successes during the Invasion of the Princewood, a thing he had been most proud of. In the evening you come upon the Qorgyle camp and are quick and happy to break for your own. Goldsong seemed ready to go another night, the old man had grown restless in his stall and was ready for the life of the wandering sellsword once more.

Another few days and you found yourself in King’s Landing, happy to spend the night in the last proper bed you would see for awhile in the Malroy Villa. Rickard Wence met you as he always had with a smile and saw to it your entourage was accommodated as best as they could be, having to split some between this villa and the Hayford’s manse down the road. Quentyn and Quellon asked for a tour, somber an affair as it was, most of the villa had been cleaned and refurbished but the western wing still sat closed off from the general public. Rickard later in the evening had approached you regarding it, requesting the funds to be able to clean up the villa to its former glory, and not the site of murder and war it had become in the years that had followed. A simple request, one that you promised to think on.

The rest of the journey was swift and simple, a few weeks upon the Roseroad felt like a vacation compared to sitting in Steadhold. Though at times the sun grew too hot to bare it wasn’t anything that ever stopped you full halt and you made decidedly good time to Highgarden. A night was spent at Bitterbridge, a place where you could have sworn at one time or another you had very distant relatives at, but a night with a cousin of the main branch of House Caswell and current castellan as they Tourneyed in Highgarden left you with more of a headache than an answer. Nothing a few goblets of wine wouldn’t fix at least. When you did arrive in Highgarden you were happy to be greeted by your Maester, Benjin and Solhas and Barq Zos. It had been months but Benjin had been granted leave to meet with your and to represent the Citadel in Highgarden as they deliberated on the matter regarding the next Archmaester. It was good to have the two summer islanders flanking your sides again and to have the Maester to speak to at length regarding your House and her well-being.

Evening had just come in as your servants finished constructing the pavilion, it was a truly grand thing in all its splendor. Rivaling some of the greater Houses of the Reach such as the Fossoways and Florents. Quentyn even seemed a touch jealous of it as it stood next to his own that was certainly a few years older. From your seat there was a sea of colors and heraldry, every House you could remember from the Reach was here, some from the Stormlands, Crownlands, and Westerlands, even the Riverlands. Dorne was represented, though at a smaller scale, but was dominated by the speared sun of House Martell, though only other great House to, surprisingly, attend. You picked out those that Dontos had recommended you meet, House Redwyne flanked by a colors you did not recognize, a black ship on blue, surrounded by vines, odd choice. House Tarly and Hightower were scattered further up towards the castle, and what a splendid thing it was, you had never seen Highgarden before, so to see the bountiful overflowing gardens, the high walls of white and a castle that looked plucked from a fairytale, it was all very overwhelming.

Lucas Longwaters comes up behind you, dressed in his finer clothes and crosses his arms, “Hell of a view. Thought Steadhold was big.”

“Compared to Longhall, anything would look big,” you respond with a laugh.

“Don’t let Jon hear you say that. He has a bad case of castle envy,” Lucas says joining your laughter, “Suppose we ought to get up there for the welcoming feast, aye?”

>Go to the welcome feast, always proper to be on time
>Do something else first (Specify.)

>>47858835
>Go to the welcome feast, always proper to be on time
Let's check out the Redwyne tent and start making allies

>>47858835

>Go to the feast.

Do we know what the seating arrangements are going to be?

>>47858835
>Go to the welcome feast, always proper to be on time

>>47858662
>>47858271
see if Goldsong will let her ride him without bucking.

>>47858835
>>Go to the welcome feast, always proper to be on time

>>47858835
>Go to the welcome feast, always proper to be on time

>>47858835
>Go to the welcome feast, always proper to be on time

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>>47858835
>black ship on blue, surrounded by vines, odd choice.

>it's been nearly 3 years now

>>47858968
Where the heck did Princely go? He just up and vanished, never to be seen again

>>47858746
>Quellon offers his head which you take
Old Man pls

>>47859026

He died.

We got any family here in the Reach we could meet ?

>>47859046
Obama got him

>>47859034
Hey, man's having brain surgery tomorrow, I'm surprised we aren't getting more slipups

File: America.jpg (103 KB, 640x426)

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>>47859362

Damn right he did.

Good to see you again Father, hope you are alright and healing. I will be participating slightly later on questing.

>>47859362
Since he is on his way out do you think he will return to us ?

While you were stationed considerably well for a Crownlands House, and one that not a year and a half ago was on the brink of extinction, you still found the need to ride up towards the main gates of Highgarden’s castle proper. You had been allowed two guests to be seated with you, a common and proper number for your status and as a nonnative to The Reach. Lucas Longwaters and Lucerys Celtigar followed after you on your ascent. Lucas’s wife Lady Racheal Conklyn, and squire and heir to House Conklyn Grant, had both come with you, the former having made use of the carriage Lord Mathis Rowan had gifted you as she was now four months pregnant. They had both separated from you, being allowed to sit with their father. Undoubtedly Lucas would be invited to their table at some point as well. What had surprised you the most though was that neither the Celtigars, nor Velaryons had a presence at the Tourney. At the very least you would have expected Lord Monford Velaryon to make an appearance, it is not like his family was disliked here in the Reach. Perhaps they were late you thought to yourself and when asking your distant cousin received only a shrug of unknowing himself.

What hadn’t surprised you however was the grandeur of the interior of the castle, everything from the rugs of green and gold, to the golden trimmings and details of the walls spoke of wealth. Spoke of power, influence. House Tyrell had enjoyed years of flourishing wealth after the Targaryens had come to power, small wonder in the breadbasket that was the Reach. Even through the countless wars and battles that had been fought in the region they still prospered. Unsurprising that your family was quick to befriend the golden roses with gifts of golden horses.

You wonder to yourself as you entered the grand hall, that you swore was large than your castle alone, if your father Vamos Malroy or grandfather Emmon Malroy had ever traveled here, had every paid tribute to a great and powerful friend such as the Tyrells or if you were the first in more than a few generations.

Lucas behind you gawks about the grand hall his mother hung ajar at the splendor, “Do the Tyrells have a garden of actual gold roses in the back somewhere?” he wonders allowed, eliciting a laugh from Lucerys who almost looks underdressed in the considerable Celtigar wealth at his own disposal.

A servant helps you to your seats, a long table on the fourth step, you see the Qorgyles a step above you, and the Hayfords and Hoggs a step below. House Conklyn is on the same level as you, while the Rowans are on the second. From what you can tell Prince Oberyn is enjoying a seat upon the highest dial, a place of honor alongside the Tyrells, not unexpected to say the least. The Florents and Fossoways are a step above, the Redwynes, Hightowers and Tarlys above them. And through all of that you remember, in the grand scheme of things, that House Malroy was still hung low, not so low to become jealous, but low enough to remind you of your place in the world. A great House nor a primary bannerman you were not, a curt and to some extent welcomed reminder.

Your table mates are two more Houses of the Reach, House Bulwar and House Meadows. The Lords were pleasant and welcoming and you soon found yourself falling into chatter of the Crownlands, and telling a few of your less bawdy stories to the table’s amusement. A herald calls your attention before the first course is served and Lord Mace Tyrell stands to speak. A lovely speech that you barely catch word of but are happy to raise a glass to in toast.

After he sits again servants come out of the woodwork and begin to serve bread and salt before the first course of a quail salad with various greens. Your glass stays filled and you are happy to allow it, the months of not drinking in solidarity with Obella having finally been lifted. As this is all going on another herald begins to announce the order of events. Of course the joust was the primary event, open exclusively to Knights and Lords who had were Knights, it was the Reach after all, chivalry was far from dead here. Two weeks of Jousting leading to the crowning of the champion, tomorrow being the first, mostly hedge and lowborn Knights fighting it out in the lists to attempt to move into a position that mattered in the week that followed. The prize was announced as 8000 gold dragons, and you can’t help but be envious of those that knew how to actually joust. By the time the herald is done naming the contestants the third course is being served. On the sixth day there would be a melee open only to Knights and Lords, a much smaller event and a single day only, a prize of 2000 gold dragons had been allowed for that. A squire’s melee was on the eighth day, a prize of 500 gold dragons and a knighthood by Lord Mace Tyrell himself, you could see Grant Conklyn squirm in his seat at the thought. And on the tenth day an archery contest, open to all men. The prize was about what you expected for an undercard event, 1000 gold dragons, but still a paultry amount compared to King’s Landing.

Lucas Longwaters soon receives an invitation to join House Conklyn for the fourth course, a soup of red fish. And Lucerys has gone off to meet with an old friend leaving you alone at the table. You swirl your goblet and decide to finish the rest, a servant eager to fill it with the Redwyne vintage. Alongside him a squire appears, dressed in the green and gold of House Tyrell, he bows to you with grace and says, “My Lord Brynden Malroy?”

“Yes, squire, this is him.”

“Ser Olymer Tyrell requests your presence my Lord,” he says.

You give the boy a queer look and he only smiles at you, “Did he say regarding what squire?”

“No my Lord. Only that it was a matter urgent,” he says, “He understands if you are unable, but wishes to see you sooner rather than later.”

>Meet with Olymer Tyrell
>Do not, instead socializing with some of the other Lords (Open floor on this one.)

>>47859625
>>Meet with Olymer Tyrell
Ask if we can bring Lucerys along.

>>47859625
>meet with olymer Tyrell

Think the wifey would us a quick trip to the nearest brothel after we are done?

>>47859625
>>Meet with Olymer Tyrell

>>47859768
Nigger please

>>47859768
No. Just no. Keep it in your damn pants anon.

>>47859625
>Meet with Olymer Tyrell
Who is he again

>>47859862
Ser Olymer Tyrell is the only child of Ser Quentin Tyrell. He is married to Lysa Meadows and they have three children; Raymund, Rickard and Megga Tyrell.

What I could find.

>>47859768
Stop making people want to slap you.
Eventually they will.
Or a dwarf will.

>>47859812
>>47859839
>>47859912

She didnt seem to mind when we visited one in Dorne!

Besides, we have to do the eight!

I am sure she will understand and be reasonable.

>>47859887
Thanks Sleepy, you the coolest namefag around since Art stopped

>>47859625
Let's meet him. Also, I wanted to say good luck tomorrow Padre

>>47859930
You mean before we even started properly courting her?

>>47859930
sexing is for when or son comes of age.

>>47859625
>Meet with Olymer Tyrell

>>47859625

We should totes get some of the golden flowers for Obella when she finally wants to start her greenhouse project.

Like a whole fooking bundle of them, along with any other rare plants we can find.

>>47859625
>Meet with Olymer Tyrell

>>47860292
Would be a good idea to bring back a few gifts for the family, Victus, Obella, Dontos and Lorelei.

Seeing little reason why not you excuse yourself from the table, Lord Jon Bulwer and Lord Elmer Meadows are deep in conversation regarding a Tourney held some years past, a topic you are less than interested in and are glad for the distraction otherwise. The squire smiles again and with a hop and skip is off to the races, weaving his way through the crowds of Lords, Ladies and Knights who are standing about the various dials and talking of all manner of things. None of which you particularly catch as you try to catch up to the young squire.

Upon reaching the second first dial, far above where you were sitting the young squire is found waiting for you, his arms crossed across his back, “This way my Lord Malroy.”

You find yourself in the company of more roses than you knew existed, and various other highly ranked Lords and Ladies. The Hightowers and Redwynes primarily among them. The squire stops and taps a man on the shoulders that looks far too familiar to you as he turns, skin pale as could be, baby blue eyes, light dirty blonde hair. For second you could have sworn- His extended hand interrupts your train of thoughts, “Lord Malroy it is a pleasure to finally meet you. My brother has spoken well of you. May I introduce, my wife Lady Lysa Meadows, and two sons Raymund and Rickard. Please sit, wine?”

“Your brother?” you ask half confused, allowing the handshake to go on far longer than it should have.

“Has he not told you? Mason, Mason Flowers, he is a man in your employ unless I have been very utterly confused and misled by his hand.”

You feel taken aback for a moment, Mason so rarely spoke of his family that you had little idea of from where or who he came from, a Tyrell he always said, Knighted me and the Hightowers banished me.

File: HouseBlackflower.png (53 KB, 657x764)

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But who his parents were, never that he was also born of a Tyrell. You allow your hand to slip away and take a seat across from Ser Olymer and his wife, happily indulging in the goblet of wine before speaking again, “Mason is your brother?”

“Ah. Yes I do suppose that is very much like him to not tell you,” Olymer says rubbing the back of his neck, “My father, Seven rest his soul, Ser Quentin Tyrell had me and my mother died not soon after. Mason is my younger brother, my father took a mistress in his grief and two years later, I have a half-brother. Hadn’t heard from him in years… Fifteen or fourteen I believe? Then about a year ago I get a letter from him. Telling me all about the Free Cities, coming home, being a Knight in your Steadhold. He seemed proud and leveled, certainly not the man I had remembered from our youth. He was so… Boisterous then.”

You lean forward, “Ser Olymer you must forgive me, this is all a lot to take in. You said your father took a mistress?”

Olymer laughs, “Guessing Mas never told you about the cock upon his shield? Or the three black roses?”

“Enlighten me,” you say with a sudden amusement.

“His mother was the head of a cock-fighting ring. My father loved to gamble at those, met her. There you go. She died three years after Mason was born, the three roses are for her, black because he never truly thought of himself as a Tyrell. We grew up together, I never thought anything of it, hell I loved him like a trueborn brother. But when he was banished for having at that Hightower girl, well… Bastards do as they do my father said. Their relationship was rocky then, he never even got to say goodbye or make amends.”

“Amends?”


“Our father died during the Rebellion, Battle of Ashford. I had wished to send Mas a letter but didn’t know where to find him. Suppose I always hoped he’d just hear about it and come home, see his grave. Father would have liked that.”

Having finished your first cup of wine you beckon for a second and wave for Olymer to continue speaking, his wife having to pat his hand to remind him he was speaking with someone.

“My apologies my Lord. Regardless, we have been speaking, every couple of months or so. I couldn’t be happier to hear he is alive and well, his letter before last told me you intend to land him and he intends to marry? Joyous news truly, when it occurs I will be certain to attend. But the most recent letter he sent… Two weeks ago. He asked a favor of me I am uncertain I can help.”

“And what is that Ser Olymer?”

“He told me of your intentions here, the ‘people’ you have brought with you. Asked me to help you into the circles you need be, to gain the support necessary to bring your case to a true hearing.”

You sit upright and back, Mason hadn’t spoken of this, not even remotely, the way Ser Olymer spoke it sounded like he hadn’t gotten a response either, “I am sorry Ser Olymer I was not aware of this. If you are unable to help-”

“Oh no, no my Lord you misunderstand. I am entirely am to help it is just…”

“Such help does not come without a price,” his wife finishes, her voice curt and eyes sharp, “My husband is a cousin of the main branch but his name does not go unnoticed. If he puts himself out there in aid of your ‘cause’ Lord Malroy, then he will need proper incentive.”

Olymer smiles at you meekly and you suddenly become aware of who is pulling the strings in the relationship, you sit back again, face turning grim, “And what is that?”

“Marriage my Lord,” Lysa Meadows says, “Either of my sons would make a proper match for your own child. Mason has spoken of you having given birth to a daughter recently. A Tyrell is certainly a good catch for a Lady such as she.”

>>47860366

Obella - Some of the golden flowers and some fruit trees
Victus and Arron - Some daggers/shields
Dontos - Ser Loras Tyrell
Lorelei - Some Jasmine to hang over her crib.


we should introduce Dontos to Loras Tyrell

>>47859625
>>Meet with Olymer Tyrell

Olymer nods his head in affirmation and you swirl about your cup, mouth halfway agap, “And what sort of aid can I expect in return?”

The two look and one another and Olymer speaks, “Ask of me my Lord whatever you need to my Lord. I am certain I can provide you with the answers that would show you this is more than a good deal.”

You eye the two through half drunken eyes, even in such a sat your were aware of the play at hand if you only had daughters, Lorelei would inherit, and with a Tyrell husband it would be hard to deny them the Tyrells of Steadhold. If you had a son and he died without issue, the same. A distant cousin to the mainbranch of House Tyrell was still a Tyrell and that name carried weight. More weight than you were certain Obella would be comfortable with as well. Olymer however, could still prove useful, exceptionally so regarding the more powerful of the Reach Houses, but at what cost was the answer. Perhaps you could talk him down from such drastic demands or see if there was something else he desired.

>Question for Ser Olymer Tyrell?

Also discussion, feel free to ask me any out of character questions as well.

>>47860536
Whatever we decide, stop drinking. Or at least drink water instead for a while and eat more food.

>>47860536
Perhaps Lord Olymer but that would be in the future. For now though need horses for any jousts? I have brought a few for just such an occasion and if we were to grow closer as a result a marriage may be quicker in the coming.

>>47860536
Man we will not survive marrying our daughter without the consent of the lady wife

This is a serious discussion, one that we probably should ponder for a good while. It isn't a bad proposition, but we'd need to talk to obella and all of our other advisors and friends first.

This isn't something we can decide lightly and half drunk.

>>47860536
Umm do we even need to deal with this dude? We can still try to buddy up with some banner men

>>47860536
Lorelei is rather young, how old are the boys ?

Also compared to the Tyrell house Malroy is rather low. Even though they are just cousins of the main branch.

>>47860654
Just for the love of the seven dont say "I need my wife premission first" or something to that degree, just say "I will think about it"

>>47860536
Obella would have our guts for garters if we did this without discussion since this daughter is going to the Vale. How about we promise one of our children as a betrothal? We plan on five anyway

>>47860605
That's not a bad idea, noted.

>>47860619
A very good observation.

>>47860666
You don't necessarily half to, he'll just make it much, much easier to get into those circles. You have fourteen days mind you and when I noted the seating arrangement that should have told you how important status and rank is when it comes to making friends, especially the high ranking friends you need.

>>47860696
We can't really bargain with children who don't exist

>>47860710
You don't necessarily half to, he'll just make it much, much easier to get into those circles. You have fourteen days mind you and when I noted the seating arrangement that should have told you how important status and rank is when it comes to making friends, especially the high ranking friends you need.

Yeah it would be foolish of us to just dismiss it.

>>47860536

>My lord, I'm sure that you are aware that your and my beautiful wives would also need to be included in that discussion. Any demands of my family would need to include her input.

>Think about it this way my lord. You will have contributed to writing a serious wrong among the crownlands. Stopped a potentially dangerous and unstable lord from unlawfully usurping lands and engaging in hostilities with their neighbors of which I am sure Lord Arryn will be extremely grateful. You also place the name of the Tyrells in high esteem as arbiters of justice and as objective third parties in matters of law, away from the politics of the Crownlands. Redward is a patsy of the Queen and the Lannisters, reducing their prestige in the crownlands and giving Baratheon, the crownlands, and by extension the Stormlands better wiggle room and negotiating room with other great lords. Why, I can even see it as a beginning of the crownlands to start growing closer ties with the Reach and start removing themselves from the Lannister pockets. You personally benefit by advancing the cause of the Tyrells in Kingdom politics and are going to be seen as a shrewed and fair negotiator, as well as arbiter of justice. To get all these benefits and ask for the hand of my firstborn daughter when you will most likely receive better solicitations is just downright greedy. Of course, you would be helping me and my family out immensely. Maybe we can solidify our alliance in other ways, such as trade? I'm sure that if the Crownlands and the Reach begin to form closer ties, already having a ally in the crownlands would immeasurably improve your station.

>>47860536
If his wife is the one pulling the strings then maybe we should try to separate the two and speak with Olymer in private. Then we could try and figure if he himself wants anything besides a marriage without her interfering.

>>47860750
>>47860750
>>47860750

Other anons should edit the above as needed.

>>47860750
No dont tell them we need to talk with our wife first. It will make us look henpecked.

We will ofcourse talk to her about it. But dont admit it.

>>47860752
That is a good idea. Talk lord to lord, appeal to us his pride. Isolate him from his wife and we should be able to sellsword talk him

>>47860672
>Lorelei is rather young, how old are the boys ?
Raymund is 4, Rickard is 2. Neither of those age gapes are unheard of.

>Also compared to the Tyrell house Malroy is rather low.
Another good observation, it should be very clear how important the hosts of this Tourney are. Even if Olymer is a distant cousin of the main branch, the name still has meaning.

>>47860696
>since this daughter is going to the Vale.
Not this daughter and not to the Vale. Lysa Tully wants a son preferably close to the same age as her own. It doesn't have to be your first born.

>How about we promise one of our children as a betrothal? We plan on five anyway

Planning and having are too entirely different things. They see a firstborn daughter right now and that's all.

>>47860750
>Redward is a patsy of the Queen and the Lannisters
Not who you're taking to trial, House Langward is. In the grand scheme of things, they don't care about House Redward and your current conflict. Just what is going on here and now.

>Maybe we can solidify our alliance in other ways, such as trade?
Olymer isn't a landed Knight, just a Household one. He doesn't have anything to trade personally not without going through the mainbranch channels. Which would be difficult.

Otherwise you would hit some of Olymer's buttons there.

>>47860752
Not entirely a bad plan. Not that Lysa Meadows was said to have sharp eyes, she isn't drinking. While Olymer is rambling and fading off and clearly is.

>>47860899
>Talk lord to lord
Don't mistake Olymer for a Lord, he is a Knight, a Household Knight. And will likely never be anything more. Note House Meadows position on the dials relative to your own. There's a reason for that and it relates to Olymer's overall position in the family.

>>47860940
What is Lady Meadows relation to Morgan Meadows ?

We may be related

>>47860940
Can we bribe him with horses?

>>47861043
I'M GLAD YOU ASKED.

Note this all something Brynden is totally unaware of, well at the very least his knowledge of it is cursory, he'd need to succeed in a very difficult Breeding check in order to recall this information.

Morgan Meadows had three daughters to Falena Malroy, a distant cousin of the mainbranch. Their second born daughter Falyse Meadows went on to marry her first cousin, a Meadows and from there the line went on until Lysa Meadows was born. There is a relation but it is so distant and little it might as well be forgotten. Regarding Elmer and Elwood Meadows, the current Lord and Heirs of House Meadows, she is their first cousin, through a bunch of shenanigans.

So yeah, good question. But definitely not something Brynden knows off the top of his head.

>>47861121
He'd like the gift, and would be more inclined to something less drastic than marriage, a solid way to butter him up at the very least.

Anyway, it doesn't look like we've got a lot of discussion going on regarding this. But it does look like we want to at least get Olymer alone and start working him over with some well spoken words. Plus letting off the gas on the drinking train.

So yeah, we'll do a vote:
Attempt to get Ser Olymer Tyrell alone?
>Yay
>Neigh

>>47861152
>Yay

>>47861152
>Yay

I'de rather not marry off our daughter without a male heir or two. Sounds a lot like what celtigar tried to pull with us, putting us under thumb.

>>47861152
>Yay

>>47861152
>>Yay
Still doing the neigh option.

>>47861152
>>Yay

A clear yay on that one. So with that in mind:

>Roll 5d6 for Convince please.

Rolled 4, 3, 3, 4, 2 = 16 (5d6)

>>47861270

Rolled 1, 2, 4, 2, 6 = 15 (5d6)

>>47861270

Rolled 5, 6, 1, 3, 1 = 16 (5d6)

>>47861270

>>47861298
>>47861299
>>47861303

14,14,15

Got close there lads. Alright writing now.

>>47861333
Morgan Meadows is missing a W

Just how pissed do you think Obella would had been if she was here ?

Success, one degree.

You place your cup down, half drained and scratch at the new beard that had begun to grow, when the servant goes to fill it again you hold your hand up and instead request water. You could feel the weight behind your eyes of the wine and instead wished for a clear head, as the situation had suddenly escalated to more than a pleasant meeting of the half-brother of your one of your closest friends. The fifth course had been served while you were speaking and a bowl of bread with heavy mushroom with chives sat before you, a dish more common in the north you’d imagine but all the same took to it with a degree of vigor as you spoke roundabout with Olymer and Lysa, attempting to give your head and stomach enough time to settle and clear up the drunkness before you spoke of important matters further.

Lady Meadows was clearly getting annoyed with your avoidance of the topic at hand, as you danced about it with questions of House Tyrell, Ser Olymer’s parentage and his relations to the main branch. Questions any dutiful father should ask of his daughter’s suitors, you knew this part of the game, it wasn’t too long ago your mother had played it as well regarding yourself, ending up in the betrothal with the Sunglass girl. Seven above you hardly could remember her name now. Regardless the questions were enough to make sure you maintained a sense of interest while allowing yourself to recover from the drinking prior. In your head the idea certainly wasn’t a poor one, yes Olymer’s sons were not in line to inherit anything, but the name Tyrell had meaning, it had weight. Alliances of such strength were not something to turn your nose up at. Upon the same token however you knew Obella would be wroth if you made such a decision alone, to disinclude her from such an important thing would hardly do wonders for you marriage particularly after the Lysa Tully incident.

After the course had finished and your head cleared you sit back feigning pondering thought regarding the issue at hand, before leaning forward with a sudden movement, “Ser Olymer, walk with me. The crowd, the noise, it’s all too much for me to consider such an offer.”

“I… erhm. My Lady wife would surely-”

“Nonsense,” you say cutting him off and earning a cutting look from Lysa Meadows, “We are two fathers, let us speak as men. Come come,” you say without waiting for him to respond and standing up, “I have matters of horse I must attend to tonight as well. Perhaps your expert opinion regarding your House will aid in my indecision, yes?”

“I, oh of course my Lord. I could most certainly,” he stumbles over standing up with a renewed interest. You smile pleasantly outwardly, though inwardly with a winning smirk, and bow deeply towards Lady Lysa, “My apologies my Lady for stealing your husband. It will not be for a course. I do so swear.”

She raises her glass in your direction, and half nods her head, voice coming off jilted and annoyed, “Of course my Lord.”

You take lead over the obviously intoxicated Ser Olymer, you guessed he hadn’t inherited his alcohol tolerance from his father, whereas Mason had always boasted that is where he had gotten his, at least when he was deep in his cups and tongue was looser. Traveling down the dials you pass by your former table and nod off quickly to Lucas Longwaters and Racheal Conklyn in your place talking with Lord Bulwer of something you did not catch before taking a sharp right and into a quieter hallway with Ser Olymer in tow.

“Ser Olymer, would you instruct me towards Highgarden’s stables?”

“The stables..? Oh they’re... “ he pauses and swivels around on his heel, looking about with sudden confusion, and says without a lick of confidence, “They are… This way..?”

You follow after his pointed finger, entirely sure he had no idea where he was going in his drunken state and begin to chat of matters of horse, careful to dance about with terms you knew he did not know, of pedigrees, of the worth of a horse’s parentage, “You see Ser Olymer, a horse’s mother, just as important as her father. She need be strong enough to carry to term, but yet smart enough and skilled enough to pass along the important traits of the desired breed. Without the mother, well you’d have a stock of stupid horses more concerned with eating hay than rushing to war, to baring your burden, to allowing you a ride in Tourney. A stud without the proper mare is nothing to a breeder, a stud will put it in anything, it’s the mare that matters. Understand Ser Olymer?”

Olymer nods and nods, not entirely picking up on your double meaning you imagined. In the end this wasn’t a decision you could make without Obella, not in the least but you knew the game, knew that Ser Olymer would expect you to hold domain over the decisions of your House, even if it was his wife that controlled him, an amusing point. You sigh and gesture about randomly trying to come up with the words, “Ser Olymer you must understand I do not make these decisions lightly. I take counsel of friend and family regarding anything of such a nature. I cannot in good faith give you an answer without speaking to those that I trust the most first. Nor would it be right if I had, not to you.”

“I... “ Olymer trails off scratch at a tuft of hair on his chin, “I understand my Lord but… But you must understand the weight of such an-”

“An alliance? Of such a marriage for my family? Oh of that I am almost certain my Lord. The Reach and the Crownlands have enjoyed a healthy relationship for… What, two, three hundred years?

Intermarriage was not uncommon, the political savvy and power of the Reach is not lost upon the people loyal to the Crown. It was your family, your father, that fought alongside mine own in the Rebellion was it not? A cause your father gave his life for. And what is it now? The relations between the Reach and Crownlands have been severed, lost to the rigors of war and political upheaval. New Lords and Ladies of the Crownlands play tribute to the Stag, and worst of all the Lion. Forgetting their old allies, forgetting those that once fought alongside them. Such a pity is it not?”

Olymer has continued to shake his head in the affirmative as you walked, “A pity. A pity indeed my Lord. A pity and a…. And a… Shame. Yes shame.”

“Well spoken my friend,” you say with a hand upon his shoulder, “Ser Olymer I could not describe to you the shame I see in the eyes of those under the Lion’s thumb now when they are forced to look past the Rose. The dismay, the unhappiness at inaction, the lamented hurt and want for what once was. For the Reach to be allies true and whole once more, to have their hand rightfully in place, and not to be cast aside for fear of trust. Let me tell you something Olymer, this cause I champion, this trail, this war. It is not just for the Crownlands, it was for the Realm. Justice must be done to those that would disobey the King’s Law. That the Crownlands have become such a lawless haven for those in power is an absolutely shame as you have said. And Lord Linden Langward is not the first, there are those that would follow, those that would see justice. All I ask, is that you are the first hand in it Ser Olymer. That you put your foot down and say no more, no more to the stranglehold of the Crownlands where we fear to befriend those out of our station. Imagine Ser Olymer, you would be bringing justice, extending that helping hand, renewing the Reach’s presence in the deeply seeded and important politics of the Crownlands...

You Ser Olymer, by helping me with an issue that would seem a pittance. A true justicar, a true champion of the people. And in the future, your ties to the Crownlands and her issues, your renown as a fair yet shrewd and adept negotiator would seem indispensible, your honor, courage, and dedication to the Realm, things people would value, would raise your station to new heights.”

“It… Yes it would… It would be so wonderful I may… I may even become…”

“A Lord? More than a Household Knight. Your children would be heirs Ser Olymer. In fact my daughter may even seem a pittance compared to the offers you would receive. In the future perhaps it is I coming to you for offers of marriage to the Lord Raymund or Ser Rickard. Think upon that Ser Olymer, I come not to you for aid, but am entirely willing to accept it, if you think such a task is worth undertaking.”

Olymer looks at you with starry eyes, the drink and talking up from your side clearly having an effect on him. You place a hand upon his shoulder and all him to take your hand in your own as he considers.

>Roll 5d6+2 for Convince

Really that speech, rearranged slightly, hit all of Olymer’s buttons. He's all about that JUSTICE. Good job on that one anon.

Rolled 4, 4, 4, 6, 5 + 2 = 25 (5d6 + 2)

>>47862325

Rolled 6, 4, 4, 2, 5 + 2 = 23 (5d6 + 2)

>>47862325

rollin for silver tongue

Rolled 3, 5, 1, 5, 2 + 2 = 18 (5d6 + 2)

>>47862325

Rolled 2, 4, 5, 6, 1 + 2 = 20 (5d6 + 2)

>>47862325
Silver hair and silver tounge

>>47862371
>>47862394
>>47862398
21,21,17

Dem solid as fuck rolls. Sellsword never fails.

Can't wait for that next archery contest :^)

>>47862426
I didn't even roll either Dad!

>>47862459
Fuck, we forgot to bring a bow better suited for that.

Still got that recurve. Think we may go out into the city and buy one ?

>>47862484
Fuck no! If we can win in KL with our rinky dink recurve than we can with it here

>>47862484
Did we? In the opening update it says we're practicing with a longbow. I would assume we would have brought it along

>>The longbow had begun to suit you more and more as you became practiced with it again

Speaking of bows, we need to get that dragon bone bow before the saltnigger rebellion.

>>47862724
After we get everything settled at home.

>>47862724
Can't ride dragons, but can still kill people with legacy of dragons.

Success, two degrees.

“I’ll do it!” Olymer says with a renewed vigor the dog in his eyes clearly there but not enough to deter him from falling for your silver tongue. That sort of clarity a youth has when he is caught with drink in his hand and is clearly drunk but manages to lie his way through it regardless.

“Ser Olymer do you not wish to speak to your Ladywif-”

“No need Lord Malroy! Your cause, it is just, it is fair. Your words have spoken to me, relight the fire inside me. My father would not have come to you in the way I have. I disgrace him. To attempt to take advantage of drink and your being alone, truly it was not right and I ask you forgive me.”

“There is nothing to forgive Ser Olymer. You did as any father would. If you are anything like your brother, I am certain your father would be proud of the man you have become since the Rebellion.”

“Of that I am not entirely certain my Lord…” Olymer says with a trailing voice, “Though it is kind of you to say. The offer of marriage? Consider it a possibility upon the table, in the future may we revisit it upon more even terms, if you would do me such a thing?”

“Ser Olymer your aid in my cause is certainly worth of such a request. In the future, may we speak of it further. When your sons are grown and my daughter as well, when it would seem a good and proper match.”

Olymer nods, clearly dreams of grandeur having gotten to his head of what a proper match may be, “You do me honor my Lord Malroy. Though I am certain my wife will not approve, in the future perhaps a visit to your Steadhold would be in order?”

“I would welcome you and yours with open arms Ser Olymer. It would be an honor to host a Tyrell in my home,” you respond, clearly playing to his ego and family name at this point but he was eating it up like no other.

Olymer nods and rubs his chin again, “My Lord, this Lord Langward, he is attended as my brother suspected?”

“I saw his coat of arms as I arrived, so I would imagine so.”

“Good… Good… We will need a handful of days. Make a show of it that we are friends, a couple of nights, exchanging of gifts, the…”

“Plying of trade?”

“Yes, excellent idea. Securing trade from my House to yours would do a world of good. House Malroy would be considered one of prestige for having such an offer extended. I… Um… Only have one issue my Lord. I have not the necessary power to arrange such a thing. Not with House Tyrell’s resources… I… I…”

“Can be the middleman then,” you offer attempting to pull him from his sudden lost confidence, “Introduce me to another House. I am certain you have friends among them, or at the very least your name would lend you credence in gaining audience?”

“Yes! Yes! I… The Redwynes! I know one of their bannermen very well, I could work through him. Or perhaps the Florents, they have ties to the Crownlands already or so the rumors say, a marriage in the work with Lord Stannis Baratheon. The Hightowers are a long shot, but my father rebuilt his relations with them after Mason’s incident, it would not be difficult for me to speak with them. Lord Randyll Tarly is the most likely to see reason, he knew my father well, justice is in his blood as much as my own. Any of them would be fine candidates to sponsor your cause my Lord, the added bonus of trade from such a renowned House as your own… Yes… Yes it would work. All is a matter of who my Lord. We will need time, a valuable commodity, and one of precious little, it is best if we focus upon only one my Lord, I will leave that decision to you and begin my work.”

So, who do we go after to
>House Redwyne, Mace Tyrell’s mother is a Redwyne and holds great influence over the court
>House Hightower, easily the strongest of the Reach bannermen, and Mace Tyrell’s wife is among them
>House Florent, not as strong as the others but the supposed marriage brokered between Stannis Baratheon and a Florent would play to your advantage
>House Tarly, Randyll Tarly is a man not dissimilar to yourself, though far more gruff his need for justice would certainly cause him to be staunch ally

>>47863023
>House Tarly, Randyll Tarly is a man not dissimilar to yourself, though far more gruff his need for justice would certainly cause him to be staunch ally

Atleast. Malroy and Tarly is quite alike both martial houses. We have a lot in common and lord Randyll would most likely approve of how we handled Princewood

>>47863023
>Yes! Yes! I… The Redwynes! I know one of their bannermen very well

K...Karban?

But I would probably go with Tarly or Florent. Would probably see us in the best light, and they above us enough to have considerable pull but weak enough not to demand our souls.

>>47863023
>>House Tarly, Randyll Tarly is a man not dissimilar to yourself, though far more gruff his need for justice would certainly cause him to be staunch ally

>>47863023
>>House Redwyne, Mace Tyrell’s mother is a Redwyne and holds great influence over the court

>>47863023
>>House Redwyne, Mace Tyrell’s mother is a Redwyne and holds great influence over the court
Only to have a furtive glance at the golden one himself

>House Tarly, Randyll Tarly is a man not dissimilar to yourself, though far more gruff his need for justice would certainly cause him to be staunch ally

Hightowers are right out, associated with Mason as we are. Florent is also no good, as I doubt Mace would be inclined to be involved with anything associated with the designated traitor house in his region. That leaves Redwyne and Tarly.

>>47863023
>>House Redwyne, Mace Tyrell’s mother is a Redwyne and holds great influence over the court

>>House Tarly, Randyll Tarly is a man not dissimilar to yourself, though far more gruff his need for justice would certainly cause him to be staunch ally

Either one would do well for us I think.

>>47863023
>House Tarly, Randyll Tarly is a man not dissimilar to yourself, though far more gruff his need for justice would certainly cause him to be staunch ally

>>47863023
>>House Tarly, Randyll Tarly is a man not dissimilar to yourself, though far more gruff his need for justice would certainly cause him to be staunch ally

Gotta go for the justice man himself.

>>47863023
>House Tarly, Randyll Tarly is a man not dissimilar to yourself, though far more gruff his need for justice would certainly cause him to be staunch ally
Who knows maybe we'll get an option to foster to or from him in the years to come...

House Tarly would be better as a first choice, with Redwyne as a possible backup if things don't go as planned.

Huh, in a surprising turn House Tarly gets the nod. Can't say I'm disappointed by that, I had plans with all of the potential Houses, but this is a good one. Brynden is likely to see eye to eye with the uber martial Randyll Tarly.

>>47863241
>or from him in the years to come...
>Brynden fostering Samwell Tarly

God that would be hysterical.

Anyway, solid plan then. Going to write now.

>>47863279
He will learn to shoot the bow and woo the ladies.

>>47863279
Please tell me we still might meet "sacks of Dragons" Karban.

Just to note: this all seems to hang on the good will of the lord Olymer.

When it comes to a little trade agreement we should consider making it a bit more favourable towards him to shut his wife up from nagging him into pushing for more. Provided we are confident that it'll work.

>>47863279

If we get a fosterling, it'd probably be one of the Tarly daughters. Poor Sam, how much his father will seethe at him when a sister of his rides home from steadhold more manly then Sam is.

>>47863383
Sounds good to me.

>>47863371

Trade agreement with Karban? Myrish Crossbows for Wine/Crab?

>>47863383
You get a horse, you get a horse!

Everyone is getting a horse!

>>47863422

Tywin Lannister shits gold; we breed gold that shits.

>>47863279
>Sam doesn't go to the Wall.
>When ghost finds the stash of Dragonglass, no ones thinks of using them against the Others.
>All the Watchers that went with the bear died without warning the Wall and Westeros.

You've created a time paradox

>>47863383
It wouldn't be unheard of to pay Ser Olymer a middleman finder's fee. Enough to keep him happy, make him feel like he's helping. He benefits a lot from his presence around Brynden, and just in general if he's on the winning side of this all. But yeah making him feel good about himself will definitely help this continue smoothly.

>>47863403
Oh yeah he does have two unnamed daughters doesn't he? Oh man that makes things interesting in the future.

>>47863371
Still up in the air. I don't know if I could do him justice.

>>47863491
Makes you wonder why Tarly wouldn't just send Sam to foster with an incredibly militant House rather than ship him off to the wall to begin with?

>>47863600
He was too old and already a dissapointment

>>47863600

Because by then he was past the age for fostering.

>>47863505
>pay Ser Olymer a middleman finder's fee.

This got me thinking, could we also use Ser Olymer as a middleman for the Reach to start funneling trade through our allies near Massey's Hook/Sharp Point?

One of the big sticking points was that our allies thought they were getting a raw deal when siding with us. I was thinking we could try to influence some Lords of the Reach to start trading through Massey's hook instead of KL. This would bring in more trade through the region for our allies (especially with the roadbuilding/Cavernassi we are doing for them), the trade fees would likely be lower than in KL because its a newer region to open trade channels through, and it would help open up the Vale and maybe even a little of the North since the prices due to reduced traders fees might become more competitive.

Everyone wins in this scenario, and Olymer gets a Hyuuge boost if it works out.

>>47863600
Mace most likely, the fat cunt would have thrown a bitchfit as to why his bannerman didn't gave him his son to foster. After all Mace is the best general in the Reach, right?

Anyother House would rub it in how shit Sam is.

>>47863600
Tarly's a marcher lord, which is pretty much the definition of militant house. There wasn't really anywhere else to go.

>>47863637
Could be a plan. We are basically investing the infrastructure cost anyway so. The local houses would certainly be prospective customers that before were not very open to trade with the reach, so its a win even if its a small sliver of trade.

>>47863672
There's also the question of If not a Reach House, where would he send is son?
I don't think he made a lot of friends in the Stormlands, Dorne's kinda a sore point for the Reachmen and they've got that rivalry with the Westerlands.

The Vale/North/Riverlands are kinda into the "Traitorous scums" folder as far as he knows.
Don't even ask him about the Ironborn

>>47863765
No one asks about the iron born. They tend to be a bunch of utter cunts.

>>47863765
>Sam gets send to Pyke, or better yet to that stillborn Lonely Island House

>>47863637
I like this plan.

Should we send a raven to Obella about the whole Lorelei-Tyrell thing ?

>>47863908
Nah. We can fill her in when we get back.
Sending a raven will just get her worrying we might do something even more stupid.

>>47863908
Nah, he said the marraige talk could wait untill the kids are older

>>47863908
Getting her input couldn't hurt.

We just have to make it clear that we are just informing her about the plan, not making a decision without her.

>>47863637
YES TO THIS

“House Tarly,” you say after half a moment, Dontos had always spoken highly of his former commander during the Rebellion, Lord Randyll Tarly. The two men had gotten along well during his tour in the Reach and you imagine it was largely due to their similar martial lifestyles. Of all the men though Dontos had said Lord Tarly was the most just of them all, even holding his own soldiers to higher standards than the typical man-at-arms, having hung a pair for raping a woman in Ashford. He of all men would understand your plight, would likely take your side and see the underhanded tactics of House Langward as not only a slight against you but of all honorable Lords by acting in such a lowly way.

Olymer swallows hard, “A-are you certain my Lord?”

“Yes?” you respond slightly taken aback, “Is that an issue Olymer?”

“I… Erm no my lord. None, no problem at all. It is just that Randyll Tarly is a rather frightening man, nothing we can’t get past. Nope no ser, no… no… issue at all.”

You fix Olymer with a flat look, “You can do this right Olymer? Gain me audience with Lord Tarly?”

“Yessss…” Olymer draws out that sudden look of distance growing in his eyes again, before snapping his fingers, “Ser Arlen Hunt, the Head of the House is a friend, and a vassal of Lord Tarly I can work this through him. I… Yes I can do this my Lord. I promise you.”

He offers a hand, and you take it, noting how clammy it had gotten and give it a firm shake causing Olymer to flex and shake it out afterwards, “A deal then Ser Olymer. Tomorrow, the first day of the Tourney come by my pavilion when you’ve the chance. I have some horses I’m certainly you would like to meet.”

Olymer’s eyes light up as you mention the horses, at least their legacy wasn’t lost upon the Reachmen, “Truly my Lord? May I bring my son, Raymund?”

“Of course Ser Olymer,” you say allowing your sly smile to dance upon your lips again. A small bribe, a small investment in a friendship that would see you profit greatly. A confident Olymer was more use to you then this drunken mess you imagined, best to continue to build him up.

Having decided it done the two of you make for the grand hall again, the seventh course of swan and cappers was being served, escorting Olymer Tyrell to his seat again you give his wife a graceful bow before being escorted back to your seat by the same squire. A quick glance up tells you Olymer just attempted to explain his plan with you to his wife who is now very annoyed with her arms crossed upon her chest, and Olymer is waving about frantically. Not quite the result she had desired you’re guessing. Your eyes scan the room again, attempting to figure out where everyone recently mentioned was sitting. House Tarly was on the second step, as expected, who you assumed to be Lord Randyll Tarly sat tall and proud, hardly having touched his swan and looking to be hardly into a second cup of wine. The man wore no hair than a neatly kept beard, and his garb looked more like a decorated soldier's uniform than that of a Lord. You could feel a kinship with that, half of your typical garb making you look more like a fancy rider rather than the Lord of a House. Arlen Hunt was sat upon a step lower than you, rather high up for a Knightly House, he was a young man, happily drinking and going on with his tablemates.

Lucas and Lucerys had been waiting for you, curious as to where you had disappeared to during the sixth course you quickly and quietly explain to them the situation that leaves Lucerys amused and Lucas rather confused.

“You just talked him up and won the man to your side. And now you’re planning on appealing to Randyll fucking Tarly’s sense of justice to bring Linden to trial?” Lucas asks.

You pause and tap your chin in between bites of swan, “Yep. Sounds bout right.”

“And how in the Seven bloody hells do you plan to do that?”

“He’s a military man. I’m a military man. His standard is that of a bowman. I’m the premier fucking bowman this side of the Narrow Sea. It’s a match made in heaven Lucas,” you respond with food in your mouth, “Besides. Trade goes a long way in establishing relationships.”

“As does fostering, and promises of marriage,” Lucerys says, “Should have taken Olymer up on that one lad. No Malroy ever been married to a Tyrell.”

“But they were married to a Targaryen,” you retort, “Obella would have thrown a fit from the Seven Hells themselves if I had taken that offer without her talking to her first.”

“Should put her in her place then. Dornishwomen talk too damn much for their own good,” he grumbles under his breath.

Lucas merely shrugs and you move swiftly on. The courses go on for another five, leaving you with a very full stomach after the twelfth and more wine than you had drank in the past six months. The Lord Meadows and Bulwer were just about as far gone as you were by this time and took their leave not soon after. The grand hall continues on for quite some time after the meal is finished, entertainers taking the stage deep into the night. A troupe of dancers gives you a sudden pang of loneliness remembering you’d be gone from Obella for another month. Lucerys takes leave a few performances later, Lucas deciding to keep going on with you. Across the way you see the black ship on blue Lord with his wife who raises a cup in your general direction which you resiprocate. Seemed an alright fella, not too much older than yourself. He has a young boy by his side, who you’re guessing is his son and his wife…

>>47863929
>Nah. We can fill her in when we get back

Okay, but what are we gonna tell her afterwards?

Lucas interrupts your idle thoughts with a slap across your chest and you turn your attention to the main dial where a clearly drunk Mace Tyrell is attempting to stand, his face a cherry red, his gut extending beyond his doublet. Lucas is in a fit of laughter that you quickly slap out of him, though by no fault of your own you’d swear it upon the Seven, you feel laughter coming to your lips as well. The grand hall begins to clear entirely after the Lord’s exit and you decide to stumble off to bed for the night. The two of you use each other as support as you find your way to stables, mount up and lazily walk into the tent city. Life was still evident even so deep into the night, men-at-arms, Hedge Knights, servants, all enjoying their own feasts and festivities. A part of you felt more at home there, remembering the meals you’d share with the Sons of Gold in some godsforsaken nomansland in Essos.

You watch Lucas attempt to dismount his horse about three times before falling off and landing squarely on his back in a fit of laughter, and he gives you a look of wonder as you do so on your first attempt. Even drunk, well a bit more than drunk, you were the master horseman, or so you drunken slurred at your friend who was now content to sleep upon the ground. You enter the tent and vaguely wave slur towards the entrance to two very confused servants who go out and attempt to retrieve the Captain of your Knights, good decision that. Your cot looked about as comfortable as your bed at home, though half as warm you realize as you fall into it missing the tangle of Obella’s hair that always got in your face. Sighing you resign yourself to sleep, content by the day, knowing that plans were in motion. That soon you would tear Royce’s alliance apart, take your sister from him, make him into nothing as he was before. Your heart and mind rest easy at the thought and you slip off into blissful sleep.

[End of Chapter XLV]

>>47864298
That we had an offer? That's all this is now

That’s that for today. Sorry for the shorter thread with just a lot of big big posts. I just needed to get a lot of that out of the way so we could go ahead and do all the fun stuff next time. Like dealing with Arlen Hunt, then Randyll Tarly. Some more Olymer shenanigans. And some fun stuff from Dorne. Plus some Tourney action all your Knights, the melee, and lastly the archery contest, which if you sons of bitches win I swear to fucking god. I won’t be surprised. I did make a good handful of real challengers for this go about, but it isn’t as important in Highgarden.

Spoiled the next part of blogposting. Anyway, if you follow me on Twitter you know tomorrow I’m going to be having surgery. It’s been a big reason why the threads haven’t been as long lately and I haven’t been feeling as well. I tend to get migranes pretty badly, always have, since a concussion during a hockey game in High School. I went to the hospital in Pittsburgh last weekend had a CT scan, found a mass in my head though it turned out to just be built up fluids. The surgery is going to be draining that and I’ll be spending about four to seven days in recovery. Give or take. Simple procedure really, I’ve had worse surgeries, so I’m not overly worried about it. I appreciate the well wishes and I’ll give you guys an update once I don’t survive off painkillers and pudding.

Next thread will be 26 June, 2PM EST. I imagine I’ll be good to go by then.

I know the thread still has a long ways to falling off so I’ll be around for a couple hours to take questions before I have to go to bed for tomorrow. Thanks for playing as always guys.

>>47864429
Thanks for running Dad.
Good luck with getting a hole in your head.

>>47864429
Thanks for running father! Good luck on the surgery.

Just how would Obella react if she was there during the Lorelei marriage talk? I am sure her and Lady Meadows would have quite the arguement. With their husbands having little to say in.

>>47864429
Thanks for running, and best of wishes for your Op Father.

Hopefully you wont need any follow up ones once their done.

>>47864429
Padre, thanks for the thread. I know it's shit when you don't feel well but you pulled off a great thread. Good luck tomorrow and I hope that everything goes great.

>>47858746
>She had finished you in her mouth, an action that drew a queer look from you but was a foggy memory in the afterglow that followed as you drifted off to sleep.

She be eating our children just like the Queen!!!!

That Dornish witch!

Dontos would had loved being in Highgarden right now, wouldnt he ?

>>47864318
If Brynden were to die during the trial by combat, Obella is going to be very dissapointed, wont she ?

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>>47864292
>We didn't ask best banker to come with us.

>>47864318
>Across the way you see the black ship on blue Lord with his wife who raises a cup in your general direction which you resiprocate. Seemed an alright fella, not too much older than yourself. He has a young boy by his side, who you’re guessing is his son and his wife…

Him and his wife is lucky Brynden is happily married

>>47864429
Thanks for the thread Old Man, may the Seven be with you

>>47864576
>he didn't mention the huge tracts of land

Again thank you. It's much appreciated.

>>47864479
She'd have laughed in her face. Obella isn't afraid of the Tyrells, especially ones that play up their importance. Very likely she would have turned it around to benefit them much in the same way Brynden did, but would have had the idea shelved almost entirely.

>>47864528
>She be eating our children just like the Queen!!!!
Well only for a little while. She just doesn't want to be knocked up for her next spy mission. Kind of hard to work like that.

>>47864542
>If Brynden were to die during the trial by combat, Obella is going to be very dissapointed, wont she ?

To say the absolute least. Obella would be on the warpath faster than anyone, she'd figure out a way to make sure the Malroys didn't die out and that whomever killed her husband died a terrible painful death.

>>47864549
>>We didn't ask best banker to come with us.

If Nararo Aros was a more regular character... A lot more people would be creeped out by now. But god would it be funny.

>>47864576
>>47864602
>Implying I didn't purposefully leave that out

They never did decide who to marry in Karban. I felt it only proper to leave it as an unknown. But at least he has a son now, that felt right.

>>47864627
>Make sure the Malroys didn't die out

Our daughter would have a hell of an upbringing in such a world.

>>47864679
Could be done if she were to marry a bastard or someone from across the narrow sea. I do not envy her if that is the case.

>>47864627
I had totally forgotten Tarly heraldry was a bowman. Damn if that is not fitting i dont know what is.

By the way, did we bring that longbow with us ?

>>47864627
>They never did decide who to marry in Karban. I felt it only proper to leave it as an unknown. But at least he has a son now, that felt right.
It really does. You did good Padre.

Goddamnit i hope Princely will return. Then we can have Glorious Karban-Malroy marriages

>>47864679
>Our daughter would have a hell of an upbringing in such a world.

A soft spoiler on Lorelei, she's going to grow up to be a bit more like her mother than her father. But is definitely going to get that competitive streak they both share. The girl is going to be an absolute terror for any man that dares the dangerous waters known as House Malroy.

>>47864699
>I had totally forgotten Tarly heraldry was a bowman. Damn if that is not fitting i dont know what is.

Yeah I too had completely forgotten until I looked it up and then had to sit back and go. Right. That makes fucking sense. And now I have to make up personalities and names for his other two daughters.

>By the way, did we bring that longbow with us ?
We did actually, the Longbow and the Recurve, so options this time! That reminds me I need to stat out Brynden's longbow on his character sheet.

>>47864825
>Goddamnit i hope Princely will return. Then we can have Glorious Karban-Malroy marriages
I just want Malroy and Karban to bro it out. If Princely was around I would definitely try to knock up a scene between the two of them we could both use. I imagine they'd get along very well.

SPEAKING OF.

If you look in the Masterlist link in the OP you will find two new things. One, Obella's character sheet. And two, Secondary characters sheets. The latter is incomplete as I plan to add a lot more soon while I'm laid up in the hospital.

A note on secondary characters, usually they don't have qualities, but these ones do, just one, and a drawback as well.

Anyway, here's Obella's sheet, it'll explain a few things. Note she did get a higher amount of experience to work with, like the book characters in the Campaign guide did. To match Brynden being on an ever evolving scale:

>https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1Qfq0TH9G5XcIhfWNCYOVc_eOwuDIGQgu3tfwpy-sYxE/edit?usp=sharing

>>47864627
Wait. I just got it. The queer look wasnt due to the blowjob but because he got pulled out!

>>47864881
I am willing to bet that our youngest daughter is gonna be alike to Arya, the person who looks like Brynden the most.

Kinda wish Victus was here. Could learn a lot AND get to see his father being awesome at archery since he missed it the last time

File: I aint picking yo dumb as(...).png (1.25 MB, 841x635)

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>>47864881
I wonder if Doran is have a giggle everytime he gets reminded that Obella married a guy that makes horses his bread and butter.
His bodyguard must be giving him the look everytime he starts laughing like a lunatic.

>Oh what's that master Doran? You laughed so hard you fell off the chair and you help now to get back on? What a shame, I've got to cut my hair and I fear I cannot wait.

>>47865032
Just what on earth was Obella thinking?

I mean, he is THE horse lord of the Crowlands.

Probably thinking with her cunt.

>>47864890
>Wait. I just got it. The queer look wasnt due to the blowjob but because he got pulled out!
>>47864890
Hahaha Half and half.

>>47864922
>I am willing to bet that our youngest daughter is gonna be alike to Arya, the person who looks like Brynden the most.
Might not the youngest but I do have a somewhat similar personality slated for one of the future girls. Right now I have 4 separate set ups for the kids per gender. I roll a d4 on that as well as a d6 for the gender, odds girl, evens boy. Next child I plan to let you guys roll for it, majority on the first three, since it'll be more interesting that way and let me wing it a bit more with the birth.

>>47865032
>I wonder if Doran is have a giggle everytime he gets reminded that Obella married a guy that makes horses his bread and butter.
Not every plan is entirely fool proof. He has banking on Brynden liking women more than his horse. A debatable topic to be certain. Obella just drew the short stick on that one. Also I rolled for it, I was fucking dying when I got fear and knew I had to be done. If you look back at the Obella scenes you'll see her acting skittish around horses before.

>>47865065
>Just what on earth was Obella thinking?
She wasn't.

>I mean, he is THE horse lord of the Crowlands.
He is.

>Probably thinking with her cunt.
She was.

To some extent at least.

>>47865113
If our firstborn son grew up to become a soft scholarly type.

Would we have to roll to not showing our disapointment ?

>>47865113
>He has banking on Brynden liking women more than his horse. A debatable topic to be certain.

Ranking goes like this

1. Illad
2. Goldsong
3. Obella

Father. What would had happend if we had stayed at the table ?

What kind of talk would have had ?

>>47865113
Dad. Could you tell us just what went through Obella's head when she first met Brynden and the day after when he came to her tent ?

Shame brynden didn't make the eight before he got married

So when will the passion between brynden and obella burn out and will their marriage be able to survive it?

>>47865792
Never and yes.

>>47858808
>Obella saw you off with a kiss and a handful of her ‘favor’ to see you through the month and half journey
I think this part went over my head. Did she give us her panties or something?

>>47865292
Maybe throw Victus in there somewhere and you nailed it.

>>47865424
>Father. What would had happend if we had stayed at the table ?
It would have been more arguing with Lysa Meadows rather than talking up Olymer, she would have shot it down a lot quicker and had seen through Brynden's silver tongue. She was adamant about the betrothal deal since Olymer let it slip that Mason had asked for help.

>>47865454
>first time
"Sellsword. Sellsword. Womanizer. Sellsword. Womanizing sellsword. Yeah I guess I'd have sex with him."

>tent
"Yeah I'd DEFINITELY have sex with this guy."

Okay not really.

Obella's opinions were kind of mixed at first because she had no frame of reference for Brynden. He was a complete wildcard to her outside of the information Doran shared with her. Him happily indulging in the little shooting contest with her definitely intrigued her and her competitive nature got the better of her. She was incredibly aware it wouldn't take too long for her to seduce Brynden, but wasn't sure what sort of person he'd be in general. She was kind of surprised to find out he was this really paternal guy that loved the hell out of his kid and was genuinely trying to right things, rather than make it worse. As much as Brynden plays up the sellsword bravado and has stories in spades she starting seeing through it really quickly and figured out it wasn't what made him tick. It was his love and devotion to his family. That is what attracted her to him. Note she did do a bit of just general spying and tracking of Brynden during the Tourney in King's Landing so she found out a lot more from that rather than their first encounter.

When they met at the tent it was mostly passion fueled fire. Like you know, or maybe not I can't say, when you have sex with someone for the first time and it just clicks? Like you're on the same wavelength immediately, that's what it was for them. Helps Brynden knows what he's doing, but as for sexual compatibility it's a 10.

>>47865556
>Shame brynden didn't make the eight before he got married

Surprisingly Brynden was a virgin before Lysa, god I should have picked a different name for her, and when he got home he never really had the chance.

HOWEVER, Brynden did make the Essosi equivalent. Braavos, Lys, Pentos, Myr, Norvos, Volantis, Tyrosh, Lorath and Qohor. Though the last one half the Sons contest as it wasn't in the city.

I really should sit down someday and write up Brynden's complete adventures as a sellsword.

>>47865792
I imagine at some point they'll settle into a slightly calmer relationship, young passion does only last so long. I doubt things will ever get to the point of a sexless cold marriage like Harrocks did, but they'll both likely fall more into their careers and assuring the family's success later on in life. Both of them are very goal oriented people and it'll show later when they're at an age where life isn't just getting drunk and fucking. So a cooler relationship with those beats of youthful romance is more what I imagine with them. And I don't think either will ever feel like the marriage is failing. Unless someone really fucks up.

>>47866680
>So a cooler relationship with those beats of youthful romance is more what I imagine with them. And I don't think either will ever feel like the marriage is failing. Unless someone really fucks up.

I really want to see like 50 year old Brynden and Obella now, they'd be that one cool older couple your parents invite to every party cause they're awesome.

>>47866783
We'll be close when the books start.

>>47866844
Brynden would be around 40 and Obella be mid 30s

>tfw just got caught up on archives and realize there's a 30 page history document to read next

Father how do you write so much?

>>47871875
Pretty sure father could just change the quest into a third person perspective and do a few changes and it would be a quite good asoiaf fanfic.

Oh and do enjoy the family tree father

>I fell in love and married yo because of your charming sellsword antics'
>Now stop doing dangerous sellsword stuff

Damnit obella

I wonder how things would had worked out if it had been Giselle.

How steadhold would had been their relationship, how she would had treated victus and so on

I think we should take our cousin 's advice and put obella in her place.

Hope the surgery goes well father

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>>47864292
>“As does fostering, and promises of marriage,” Lucerys says, “Should have taken Olymer up on that one lad. No Malroy ever been married to a Tyrell.”
Nah. I think it's right we didn't go for that.

Hell, i'd prefer it if Brynden stayed away from betrothals for his kids altogether, given his personal history with arranged marriages.

Letting them marry for love when they're old enough would fit right in.

I mean, we could invite people to have their sons court our daughters or suggest the opposite, but outright betrothals? Eh.

Potentially profitable in the short and long term, but doesn't feel right for Brynden.

>>47878840
It depends on how brynden will turn out when he gets older. Remember that his iwn father was more or less like himself intill he became lord. Lordship and authority and leadership changes you

>>47878840
Brynden may have matured past that point

This quests big plot twist will be that targfag was a blackfyre supporter the entire time