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Dramatis Personae:
>Ser Mervyn Reynold, 25, Our MC.
Ser Mervyn grew up the son of a bastard hedge knight who did not know his father and a blacksmiths daughter. After his mother passed at the age of 5, his father began travelling the westerlands to sell his sword to anyone who would hire him. Eventually, the man passed away to a pox when Mervyn was 17, but not before knighting his son. He than took his fathers horse and mule and travelled in the same way. Eventually, he heard of a tourney for a young maiden’s hand, he attended and won handily over many much nobler knights. He now serves the Lady of the House, Elleanor Reynold as her sworn shield.

>Alyssa Reynold, 18, Mervyn’s Wife
Alyssa is a pretty young girl, and mother to hers and Ser Mervyn’s infant son, Marqus. She is driven and tenacious, if not impatient and occasionally jealous, and she has been reared to be a player in the game by her mother. While not considered beautiful as her elder sister might be, her red curls and sea green eyes certainly make her comely. She is gifted at weaving through the art of noble intrigue and has a knack for remembering heraldry and house history.

>Tyrus Reynold, 15
Tyrus Reynold is Ser Mervyn’s former squire and the second son and fifth child of Lord Titus and Lady Elleanor. He has the makings of fearsome fighter and knight, although his temper can be dangerous and difficult to control. He is the same height as his sponsor and looks to soon over take him in size, if not skill, and resembles his father in looks but his mother in colouring. Soon to be a father to a bastard child, and is in love with a common girl from the kitchens of Ember Peak by the name of Rose. Currently squiring for Ser Gordon Serrett.

>Lord Titus Reynold, 46
Lord Titus was born Titus Lantell of Lannisport, and grew up to be a knight who swore his sword to the Lannisters. During the Reyne/Tarbeck Rebellion, he was commanded by Tywin Lannister to march with 300 men to confine the Lady Elleanor, then a maiden of 16 years, and prevent House Reynold from aiding the Reynes and Tarbecks in rebellion as a favour to her father, the late Lord Marqus. A relatively oafish man who cares not for the workings of his house, he is not without a degree of cunning and ultimately seeks to usurp his wife as the true head of the house.

>Lady Elleanor Reynold, 36
Lady Elleanor is a woman who remembers. Once betrothed to Ser Reynard Reyne, she endured losing both her father and betrothed in the span of a year at the age of 16, and was subsequently married off to a lowly knight of Lannisport. She endured the dishonour, even providing 6 children to her husband, all in the memory of her father and Reynard. She is the true power in Ember Peak, and seeks to retain control of her house by any means necessary.

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--- 02/09/282 ---

You could hear the sleet assaulting the canvas roof of your tent as you sat on a small wooden stool beside a small fire. The smoke rose up in small grey tendrils as you pushed your hands closer to the fire and heard the soft clink of iron as the chains that bound your wrist jostled beside one another. It had been two weeks or near enough to make no difference since the Battle of Ashford. You’d broken protocol and joined the parley and infuriated Lord Randyll Tarly, and in the aftermath of the battle you’d been placed under arrest.

“In hindsight it might’ve been best to not tell the prick you were leaving Ser. Should have just left and went back home. Gotten clear of this fucking mess”

“Aye, you’re probably right about that Cardyn. But at least Ser Owen went back to forewarn Lord Rowan before he walked into a damn hornet’s nest.”

Cardyn scoffed at that. “Oh yes. Thank the seven for the damn Osgreys. The chequey lions.” He spat a hawk of phlegm into the embers of the fire. “You made a mistake with that one Ser. Ser Austin weren’t the man to be your second. He’s got a stick up his arse and thinks his shit don’t stink. Afraid to get his hands dirty. And this Ser Owen. I don’t trust him as far as I can spit. Scheming greedy cunt he strikes me as.”

“I know what I’m doing Cardyn. If I hadn’t sent him back I’d likely be outside in a wooden cage with the damn rebels.”

“Only if you’d told him you were leaving. We could have been halfway back to the Westerlands. You could be with Alyssa and your children. I could be back with Cerenna. Not to mention you wouldn’t be on trial for treason.”

The commotion that had followed when the main host had rejoined with the vanguard had been a chaotic one. Lord Tarly had insisted to Mace Tyrell that you be placed under lock and key with the rest of the prisoners taken in the battle but Lord Mathis Rowan had come to your defense. Instead you’d had a pair of manacles placed on your wrists and were to be escorted by no less than four men at arms at all times. Additionally, you’d been given permission to enjoy the company of one of your men at a time. You’d had them ask for any news of the supposed trial though they had come up empty of answers.

“Have you heard any news regarding my treason?”

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“Apparently the fat rose has been dealing with his preening Reachmen. Awarding titles and honours to Lord Tarly and the rest. Of course we haven’t been so much as mentioned. But I reckon you’ll be called on in a day or two.”

You cursed under your breath and Ser Cardyn produces a skin that he hands to you first. Upon downing the first gulp you find it to be a sour red wine that you can barely keep down. You stifle a cough and bring your fist hard into your chest.

“What in the gods name is that and where did you get it?”

Cardyn smiles and takes a long draught of the wine as well with hardly so much as a grimace. “Walder found it. Made a friend on the baggage train I think. But I’m fairly certain it’s wine.”

The three most blackhearted bastards in your company had become fast friends ever since you’d appointed Ser Austin as their lieutenant. They would likely never change their ways even if the rest of the Reins grew more honourable under Ser Austin’s command, and if bartering with the baggage train was the worst they did during this campaign you would count yourself fortunate. You weren’t about to complain though, and the two of you drained the skin and spoke long into the night.

--- 04/09/282 ---

The tent flap opened and you found yourself face to face with a young red haired boy you recognized as one of Lord Rowan’s squires. He also happened to be your goodbrother although you had only met with him a mere handful of times and knew little of the boy beyond what Alyssa had told you.

“Excuse me Ser Mervyn. Lord Mathis Rowan has sent me to bring you to his pavilion so as to prepare for your trial before Lord Mace Tyrell, Lord of Highgarden, Lord Paramount of the Mander, Defender of the Mander, High Marshall of the Reach and Warden of the South.”

You stared at the boy and in him saw the look of your wife and goodmother. Red hair, green eyes, the same chin and cheek bones. He was a slight boy who was apparently rather bookish despite Lord Rowan’s best efforts. You stood and followed as the four guards posted outside your tent followed the two of you closely.

“So tell me James, have you heard much of home?”

“Home Ser? Only what Lord Rowan has told me. Casterly Rock has called their banners but little else. I’d hoped that maybe Tyrus would be with you Ser but I can see that you are without a squire.”

“You’d be right about that. Your brother is a stubborn boy, with a temper to match.”

“I remember Ser. I can remember him losing his temper once after I beat him when we were playing. He broke my arm and Maester Aethan had to bind my arm so that it would set properly. It wasn’t long after that I was sent south.”

He was a precocious boy you had to give him that.

“I suppose I am an uncle now aren’t I Ser Mervyn?”

“That you are, to my own son Marqus and Tygon and Andreas daughter, Allison. Alyssa should have given birth by now as well to our second child but I’ve not heard from Ember Peak since I left at the start of this rebellion.”

“I look forward to meeting them Ser. Now, here we are.” He looked at the guards to either side of you. “Lord Rowan has not summoned you. You may wait outside or return to your tents and I will return to you when my Lord is done with Ser Mervyn.”

The guards grumbled but you were soon escorted out of the cold and into Lord Rowan’s lavish pavilion of white canvas ornamented with gold stitching. You followed James through one room and then another before coming to Lord Mathis as he sat behind an ornate wooden desk and stood. His arms were crossed as he stared at you from under his salt and peppered eye brows.

“You may leave us James. Thank you.”

“As you wish my Lord.”

James slipped out of the room quietly leaving you alone with the Lord of Goldengrove. His brows furrowed and you could see anger and frustration on his face.

“And what do you have to say for yourself Ser? What do you have to say for yourself?”

“Nothing you don’t already know m’Lord. I attended a parley to represent the west. I fought well and helped achieve victory and took a prisoner besides. And when threatened with a whipping I informed Lord Tarly that I would be leaving to return to my home instead. He is not to whom I am sworn.”

“BUT YOU WERE PLACED UNDER HIS COMMAND!” Lord Mathis barked out in irritation. “So everything I’ve heard is true. And to think I swore to foster the child of a man so lowborn that he would dare to desert an army in the face of punishment. If you were not married to my cousins daughter I would have you hung for treason myself Ser. The interruption of the parley was a gross breach of protocol but a forgiveable offense Ser. Threatening to leave however? I can scarcely believe that Lord Tarly did not have you placed in a stockade or even hung.”

An awkward silence filled the air between the two of you as Lord Rowan scratched at his head and let out a long sigh.

“Your name is attached to mine, and although you and I share no blood we are distant kin. Lord Tyrell will sit in judgement of you but I must warn you after Lord Tarly delivered him victory at Ashford Lord Tarly has become his new favourite.”

“A trial by combat?” you offered.

“Such a thing would be seen as crude, and you would look guilty in the eyes of many regardless of the outcome. Additionally, it would not take place until peace time, or at the very least until the boredom of a siege takes its toll on Mace’s patience. I feel pleading your case before him may be our best option. Easily won over by flattery is the Lord of Highgarden. I will testify on your behalf and although I may not be his current favourite he will not ignore me. Elsewise there is a trial by the faith. You would speak to a septon and speak of what happened and leave your fate to the gods. Have you a preference Ser?”

>Trial by Combat – Will take the longest and see Mervyn in chains until it takes place. Will likely sour relations with many in the reach, including Lord Rowan.

>Trial before Mace Tyrell with Lord Mathis – Will take place immediately. Unlikely to get off scot free but if successful will be free to participate in the rest of the war. Most positive reactions from the Reachmen

>Trial by Faith – Will take place before the month is up as a council of septons and septas is gathered. Potential to bribe or coerce the faith on account of relations to Grand Septon Maxim of Lannisport. Very high risk/high reward.

If you have any questions or need clarification before voting, feel free to ask.

>>4318954
>Trial before Mace Tyrell with Lord Mathis – Will take place immediately. Unlikely to get off scot free but if successful will be free to participate in the rest of the war. Most positive reactions from the Reachmen

We will just have to pay a fine or so if found guilty. Spoils of war should cover it easily

>>4318954
>>Trial before Mace Tyrell with Lord Mathis – Will take place immediately. Unlikely to get off scot free but if successful will be free to participate in the rest of the war. Most positive reactions from the Reachmen

>>4318954
>Trial before Mace Tyrell with Lord Mathis – Will take place immediately. Unlikely to get off scot free but if successful will be free to participate in the rest of the war. Most positive reactions from the Reachmen

>>4318954
>Trial before Mace Tyrell with Lord Mathis – Will take place immediately. Unlikely to get off scot free but if successful will be free to participate in the rest of the war. Most positive reactions from the Reachmen

Four votes is enough for me. Alright I'll get to writing!

>>4318954
>Trial by Faith – Will take place before the month is up as a council of septons and septas is gathered. Potential to bribe or coerce the faith on account of relations to Grand Septon Maxim of Lannisport. Very high risk/high reward.

>>4318969
What are you basing this on? It could easily be worse.

“We’ll do it your way Lord Mathis. When can I present myself before Lord Tyrell?”

“I will present you to Lord Tyrell as soon as I am able. I will call on him this very night and press to put the matter to rest as soon as possible. I would find time to pray this evening Ser Mervyn, and pray that we find Mace Tyrell in an amiable mood.”

He turned to leave the room but you stopped him with a callout.

“Lord Mathis, I’ve been meaning to ask you…have you heard anything about what has happened in the Westerlands? Is there any word of House Reynold or…or my family?”

“I’ve heard little and less of the Westerlands Ser Mervyn, likely only what you yourself have heard. Tywin Lannister has called his banners to Casterly Rock. Regarding your family I’ve received no missives since we left Goldengrove.”

Silence was your answer in return and James Reynold soon entered to lead you back towards your tent escorted by the guards and you are quick to fall to your makeshift bed but not before taking out your locket and looking at the miniature painting of your wife before falling to sleep. You did not pray to the seven for yourself, but you did offer up a quick and silent prayer to the mother for Alyssas safety.

--- 05/09/282 ---

You found yourself standing before the Lord of Highgarden who was sat on a wooden dais within his expansive pavilion. Lord Tarly sat on his right while Lord Rowan sat on his left. A few other minor lords and court favourites as well as a septon and maester were in attendance as well. They all sat to either side of you as Lord Mace Tyrell decided your fate.

“Ser Mervyn Reynold, you sit before me today under the accusations of insubordination and desertion. It pains me to have such a glorious victory such as that we won be tarnished by such deeds. How do you plead Ser?”

“Not guilty my Lord.”

The small crowd of sycophants and lickspittle lords to either side of your gossiped and whispered at Mace Tyrells words of tarnishing glory which grew to an idle chatter at your denial of the crimes.

“I should hope you have a compelling defense that you mean to present Ser Mervyn. You may begin…”

You grit your teeth absent mindedly for a moment as you looked from Lord Mace to Lord Mathis who gives you a small nod. He had told you that flattery was the key to getting yourself out of this but you were still a man with your own sort of pride. Kissing the arse of this lord and that had never sat well with you, especially those who were soft and unwilling to dirty their own hands. You looked at Lord Tyrells soft pale hands and knew that while he may have been a tourney knight once, he was not the type of man who loved battle. He might speak of the victory at Ashford as his own but it was not his at all.

Mathis Rowan spoke before the silence had grown to long.

“My lord, if I may be so bold to speak?”

A hand gestured for Lord Mathis to continue and he did so.

“I have spoken to Ser Mervyn regarding the events that happened at the Battle of Ashford and can assure you he did not mean to tarnish such a gloried victory. He took pride in aiding the Reach give the rebel Robert Baratheon his first defeat where three loyal Stormlords could not. He came to serve under my command as he was commanded to by his lady, Lady Elleanor Reynold of Ember Peak, of the Westerlands. No other men of the West came to join us so should he not have been given a place at the parley he is accused of attending without permission?”

He gestures for you to take over but how would you do so?

>Charm (Flattery – Swallow your pride and tell Lord Tyrell what he wants to hear)
>Convince (Honesty – Tell Lord Tyrell the truth of what happened and your intention)
>Something else (Specify)

Write ins welcome for this

>>4319223
>>Charm (Flattery – Swallow your pride and tell Lord Tyrell what he wants to hear)

"My lord, I was told my by godbrother Tyrus to come here and await him, for him to take command over me. Even thought his sister my wife was due to finish her pregnancy. Her last pregnancy was a hard one, very hard, and I was loathe to leave her but I did my duty to be here, to fight. Then just before the battle, when I had long been wondering where Tyrus was, I had heard Tywin had recalled his banners, yet had not moved. This can be the only thing that would have delayed my good brother, and what could delay Tywin so much as to not be swift to the crown's aid? I suspect treachery, the kind that caused him to destroy the house my godbrother, wife and their family was once allegiant too. So I came to the parley as the ranking westerman and too force the fight, ebcuase Robert isn't going to lay down his arms, he has half the seven kingdoms on his side and would be executed for raising his hand against the king, moreover he's the Stormlord, he seemed to relish the opportunity to fight. So fight I did, and afterwards when I was reporting to lord Tarley to tell him I was leaving to go see the matter of my wife, her pregnancy and the westerlands he told me to get whipped and strip me of command , which is not his right. I informed him my men would be leaving and now hear we are.

>>4319262
Supporting but throw in some flattery about the Reach and it's chivalry and honour in there, how Mace is loyal to the crown and by fighting on the King's side and making that clear in the parley, maybe we could force Tywin to make up his mind and support the king. Tarly is acting against the rules of chivalry and honour by punishing us without a trial, so we left.

>>4319276
What I mean here is that if by making it clear in the parley that a westerlander force was fighting against Robert, we wanted the news to spread that the West has joined the Loyalists so Tywin would be forced to support the king (who Mace is a loyal subject of) Since we're only a single unit this could only be made clear in the parley, not fighting (though our unit played a key role in the victory afterwards)

>>4319276
>>4319262
Yeah, supporting these.

But omit the part about forcing Tywin to cone to the field - given our status that is an empty threat.

Add in a part about telling all of the West about the great victory won here by the Reach. Perhaps we can shame our fellows into coming into the field of battle.

Some quality write ins there.I'll do my best to mash them together and get something suitable.

Alright can I get 3d6 for Persuasion (Charm) please and thank you. The DC's for this first of three rounds are 9 and 15.

Rolled 4, 5, 6 = 15 (3d6)

>>4319404

Rolled 3, 5, 3 = 11 (3d6)

>>4319404
not much that can top that 15 but I can try.

Btw if we get away from here right away (best option) what other engagements can we take a part in? I would think Battle of the Bells but that might already be too late. Mace is going to sit on his ass for the rest of the war. What other engagements were there other than the final Battle of the Trident? Maybe join up with the Dornish army moving up for some minor skirmishes in the Stormlands?

Rolled 5, 4, 5 = 14 (3d6)

>>4319404

>>4319418
Raping the Malroys

Rolled 6, 6, 3 = 15 (3d6)

>>4319404
Rolling another time just to speed it up if there are no others. Don't why there's nobody here. Disregard if someone else rolls.

Nailing it on the head for the first roll. Well done anon. I'm having some trouble with my computer but I'll do my best to get the next post up tonight.

>>4319418
The Battle of the Bells is out. However, Lord Mace will be sending a force northwards along with the Dornishmen once the Siege of Storms End begins.

Attacking some towns and castles on the way wouldn't be out of the question, as well as the obvious Battle of the Trident. Not to mention the Siege of Steadhold and Sack of Kings Landing.

>>4319475
>Siege of Steadhold
??

>>4319492
Malroy castle. Shame that Dad died I wanted more Malroy shenanigans.

Goddammit, we've should've escaped, although they are also in the wrong wtf we are the only party presenting the west and you not include us in the negotiations and you withhold information too?

“My Lord Tyrell, I was sent here by Lady Elleanor Reynold to represent my house because they are loyal to the crown. Her first born son, and heir, was to join me and take command of any and all Reynold men in this host. Yet I find that he has not arrived and instead hear rumours of how Tywin Lannister has called his banners and notice how he has not joined us here. If rumours had reach me of such they had surely reached Robert Baratheon and I acted as such. To give the stormlords pause and think perhaps Casterly Rock had joined cause behind House Tyrell.”

Lord Tyrell and swollen up with pride at the mention of Casterly Rock joining behind the might of Highgarden but he was not entirely convinced yet.

“That may explain why you interrupted a parley but although you may be in command of the forces of House Reynold you are only a household knight correct?”

For now. The words threatened to burst forth from your mouth but you kept your tongue in check and answered the question honestly. “Yes my lord.”

“As I thought. So again this may explain your insubordination yet it does nothing to explain the charge of desertion. Have you anything to say in defense of that Ser?”

“Little my Lord. I worry for my house. That Tygon Reynold has not joined this host is suspicious, let alone the rest of the Westerlands. Not to mention my wife was pregnant when I left Ember Peak. Her previous pregnancy was hard, very hard, and since I have left I have heard no news from my home. I fought for you Lord Tyrell, and together we won a victory here that the singers will take joy in and make many a coin. But in the aftermath, I sought to return to my home and see what happened to my family. Perhaps even shame some into returning with me to see this rebellion crushed for what it is.”

Mace Tyrell looks at you with an approving look for a moment, but it disappears when Lord Randyll Tarly begins to speak.

“Words are wind Ser Mervyn. Your tale may be touching but you were not invited to said parley and you disrespected my command when you took it upon yourself to join us. What is worse you deliberately spoke out of turn.”

You went to reply to him but he continues while looking to his own liege.

“How do we know he was not sent here to gather information of our plans? That he does not seek to return to the Westerlands and inform Tywin Lannister of our whereabouts, strengths and weaknesses? I would take his hide and hang him for a deserter. Even if he is telling the true, a man must place his duty ahead of his own wishes.”

--- Can I get 3d6 for Charm please and thank you. ---

DC: 12 and 18 for round 2 in this intrigue.

>>4319492
If you've read "A Song of Revenge and gold ; House Malroy Quest", it's the seat of House Malroy. It's part of a crossover The Father and I have been talking about doing.

Rolled 6, 3, 6 = 15 (3d6)

>>4319928

Rolled 1, 2, 3 = 6 (3d6)

>>4319928
>--- Can I get 3d6 for Charm please and thank you. ---
No

Rolled 5, 3, 5 = 13 (3d6)

>>4319928

Not perfect but a success nonetheless. I'll have a post up tomorrow in the late morning.

>>4319947
Well I ain't your buddy guy

--- Ser Mervyn’s Persuasion (Charm) Test ---
Rolled 15 vs DC: 12, 18
Result: One Degree of Success, Failed

“Words are wind Lord Tarly. I might have spoke of wishing to return home and yet here I am, amongst the greatest gathering of men in a generation.”

A flush of red creeps up the mans neck and you can see his lips tighten into a hard line as you continued on, using his own words against him.

“And as for joining your parley I am the highest ranked man from the Westerlands and you had no right to deny me a place there.”

“I have EVERY right to determine who does what when they are under my command. If I want you digging latrines with your bare hands than…”

Mace Tyrell interrupts him with a look and speaks to you directly even standing from his seat and walking over to look you in the eye.

“Ser Mervyn, while I am moved by your words and find that you are indeed still here, I must agree with my most martial of bannermen that you did indeed not have the right to be at the parley without invitation, let alone to speak without permission. Insubordination, while certainly less severe than desertion, is still not something that I allow within my army Ser. Have you anything else to say in your defense?”

3d6 please

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

>>4320372

Rolled 6, 6, 4 = 16 (3d6)

>>4320372

Rolled 3, 2, 4 = 9 (3d6)

>>4320372

>>4320372
Did my 16 save it Joe ?

Sorry, life just got in the way for a minute there.

>>4320497
It did indeed. It went 9+15, 12+18, 15+21 for anyone wondering.

>>4320611
Holy shit, and if we had lost here what would be the consequences?

>>4320660
Well failing everything would mean Mervyn was found guilty of desertion. So likely death or taking the black.

Currently though its not nearly as serious as all that

>>4320675
So we passed 4 out of those 6 tests. Can I ask what they mean? Like if we had passed all 6 then getting off scot free, of passed only 1 then whipping and taking away our things, those sort of things?

>>4320688
Absolutely. So this is obviously just me winging it, not an actual intrigue from the rule book.

So obviously the tests got harder as it went along but if both DC's had been met on the first two rolls, the DC on the last one would have actually been within reach for Mervyn to talk his way out of and get away scot free on Tyrells good graces.

Failing them all was obviously being found guilty on all charges and spending a destiny point to take the black which obviously would have made for a very different quest.

So to simplify my answer.

The first two rounds were about the crimes themselves. The last round was the severity of the punishment if any.

>>4320704
That's very nice, thanks for explaining! Looking forward to what our punishment is now.

--- Ser Mervyn’s Persuasion (Charm) Test ---
Rolled 16 vs DC: 15, 21
Results: One Degree of Success, Failed

“Nothing I haven’t already said my Lord. I’m a loyal man, a dragon man. I’ve not tried to escape since I was arrested by Lord Tarly because I believe in our cause. I am honoured to be a member of your host and I hope you’ll allow me to lead my men so I can help you win more impressive victories than you did here days past.”

Lord Mace’s chest puffed out with pride at the words and gave you a nod before returning to his seat. Memories of your trial at Casterly Rock came flooding back to you and you found yourself wishing to have Elleanor defending you before these reachmen. It was places such as this that she seemed to thrive. You watched Lord Mathis lean over and speak quietly into his ear and the Lord of Highgarden waves him off with a casual hand and nod before addressing you loud enough for his small travelling court to hear.

“Lord Tarly, in your opinion, what punishments would you be seeking should Ser Mervyn Reynold be found guilty here today?”

“Were he mine to discipline? One hundred lashes for insubordination. His tongue cut out for speaking out of turn in front of his betters and finally hung and left for the crows on account of his attempted desertion.”

The court comes alive once more at the severity of the punishment and you stare straight ahead at Mace Tyrell, ignoring the whispers and mumblings as well as any looks from Tarly or Rowan. For his own part Lord Tyrell waited until the court quieted until he deigned to speak.

“Lord Mathis brings up a valid point however that Ser Mervyn is indeed not your man. Although he most certainly was under your command. I trust you can understand the difficult place you have put me in Ser Mervyn?”

You nodded your head but said nothing.

“I find you not guilty of desertion Ser Mervyn. The fact you made no attempt to escape, nor make good on your words and I can hardly condemn a man to death for something said while his emotions run hot from the heat of battle. I myself have made such a blunder, as most lords would admit had they ever faced down a foe.”

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The irony of those words were not lost on you, as Lord Tyrell had been miles away even at the end of the Battle of Ashford but you thought it most unwise to comment or smirk given the situation.

“However, your interference at Lord Tarly’s parley cannot be blamed on anything other than foolishness. Lord Tarly’s one hundred lashes is severe and as such I will reduce it to twenty. Additionally, I find Lord Tarly’s council to be both honest and leal, and while I will not strip you of the command of your men, I have been informed your second in command is a reachman of noble birth correct?”

You nodded your head. “That is correct my lord.”

“Then he shall be the man to receive orders should myself or Lord Tarly have need of your Westermen. He will sit in on meetings of strategy when and if necessary, as well as receive orders during battle. Command in the field shall still remain with you. Lord Tarly, I trust this punishment will suffice for you?”

Your cold blue eyes moved to meet with Lord Tarlys own and neither of the two of you looked away nor flinched.

“Should said scourging be immediate, public and by my hand, I am content.”

“Then so be it. Ser Mervyn Reynold you are sentenced to twenty lashes and relieved of your duties off the battle field as Captain in my host as punishment for insubordination, to be carried out immediately by Lord Tarly’s hand.”

The next few minutes were a whirlwind of movement. You were marched outside and had your roughspun shirt torn off of you as your wrists were tied above your head to a post. Minutes went by as a crowd gathered and you could feel gooseflesh creeping up your arms as the rain fell upon you. You shook your head to remove a loose lock of hair from your eyes and you found yourself face to face with Ser Austin Osgrey who offered you a piece of leather to bite down on.

--- Accept the leather? ---

>yay

>nay

>>4320752
>>yay

>>4320752
>>nay

>>4320752
>yay

Dont want to risk biting off our tongue

>>4320752
>Yay
Fuck Tarly, he'll make it as painful as possible.

>>4320752
>>yay
Tarly's just salty we'd kick his teeth in if he fought us. The fuck

>Yay it is. Writing

You looked to Ser Austin and gave him a short but swift nod and open your mouth to which he places the small piece of leather. It tastes raw and you flex your jaw muscles as you work the leather in between your teeth. You breathe through your mouth and can feel the little streams of air flow around the corners of your mouth as the crowd quiets and you anticipate the blow that you know is coming.

Memories come flooding back of your childhood. Your father drunkenly beating you with willow switches until your back would bleed. Even sober he was draconian and you tie your hands around a tree if you disobeyed him, but only after you had chosen the stick he would beat you with. As you’d grown older and used to said beating the switch became a rod and by the time you were fifteen and strong enough to start opposing him, it was a bull whip he’d procured from a local village. The scars had faded some, but they were something Alyssa had asked about the first time she’d seen them. It had been the last time as well.

Ice cold water ran down the muscled frame of your back and you could hear the foot steps squishing through the mud before all of a sudden you heard the crack of a whip. You bit down a little harder on the leather before you heard the second crack and felt the first blow across your shoulders. The pain shot through you like a white hot lance and you ground your teeth and clenched your fists.

The second lash came suddenly downwards nearer to your lower back. You let out a small hiss of pain and looked to the crowd. You focused on their faces in an attempt to ignore the pain. It was what you had done as a child. Focus on a bird or perhaps a branch stirring in the wind. Ignore what was behind you and focus solely on what was in front. The third lash came and was soon followed by a fourth. Your knuckles began to turn white so hard were your fists clenched.

By the time you came to your tenth lash you could not tell if the rivulet you felt run down your back was blood or water from the rain. You quickly looked down to your feet and saw only mud which comforted you but you were only half way done. Eleven. Twelve. You’d learned from your father that begging for mercy would only elicit an extra lash or three. Cowardice was inexcusable. Pain was part of the life of a knight, and for a hedge knight doubly so. Thirteen…

--- Can I get 3d6 for will please? ---
DC: 9

Rolled 4, 4, 5 = 13 (3d6)

>>4321057
Fuck Tarly

Rolled 3, 6, 4 = 13 (3d6)

>>4321057
here's hoping for a 14

Rolled 5, 3, 1 = 9 (3d6)

>>4321057

Alright one degree of success means an additional lash before testing if Mervyn cries out.

>>4321062
Also, I just want to touch on this before I continue here. This is the highborn (through Randyll Tarly) explicitly shitting on Mervyn for his status and his birth, and him getting "too big for his boots". It's something I haven't really touched on in a long while and I hope you all are enjoying it even if it might be infuriating.

I'll actually take the second round of 3d6 please. DC: 12 this time

Rolled 3, 6, 2 = 11 (3d6)

>>4321116

Rolled 6, 6, 3 = 15 (3d6)

>>4321116
It's expected.

Rolled 3, 5, 1 = 9 (3d6)

>>4321116

>>4321116
Yeah I'm enjoying it, even though for once we can't use what we're good at (intimidation or trial by combat). Hope we get to fuck up some highborn fools soon.

--- Ser Mervyn’s Will Test ---
Rolled: 13 vs DC: 9
One Degree of Success

The blows were beginning to feel less methodical now. The fourteenth slashed near perfectly horizontal across your back and you let out a low and quiet growl as you felt your back absorb blow after blow. Blood was almost certainly running down your back now and you pulled down against the rope that held your wrists above your head. Your arms flexed and as the fifteenth lash came you looked and saw Ser Cardyn watching you from the crowd. He was standing with Ser Walder Erenford and Ser Tristan as well and you drew on your reserves as you steeled yourself for the next blow.

--- Ser Mervyn’s Will Test Rd. 2 ---
Rolled: 15 vs DC: 12
One Degree of Success

Sixteen. It was getting harder to maintain your footing. Your hands and forearms were beginning to ache fiercely. You focused on your own self inflected pain instead of the white hot flame that had engulfed the entirety of your back. Your breathing was growing fast and short as you tried to maintain your composure. Your toes curled up inside your boots and your body shook as if trying to shake off the pain like a cloak off of your shoulders. After the seventeenth you punched the wooden stake hard enough to rip the skin off of your knuckles. You heard a grunt come forth once more unbidden but it was quiet enough that none could hear.

The crowd was beginning to buzz. The possibility that a man might not make a sound for twenty lashes was making for a show and you thrived off of that as you forced yourself to take a deep breath through your nose. You shook your head as if to encourage Lord Tarly to continue and soon felt the lash bite deep…

3d6 please and thank you

Rolled 6, 6, 3 = 15 (3d6)

>>4321194
Fuck Tarly.

Rolled 4, 5, 4 = 13 (3d6)

>>4321194
rage alone will fuel mervyn

Rolled 4, 3, 6 = 13 (3d6)

>>4321194
Man, these guys are cunts

>>4321201
Nailing the DC there with the 15.

Alright and I'll take another round of 3d6 there guys. But this time the DC is the big 18 for the very final lash

Rolled 4, 1, 5 = 10 (3d6)

>>4321211

Rolled 5, 5, 2 = 12 (3d6)

>>4321211
Yikes! Dice god's help

Rolled 5, 1, 2 = 8 (3d6)

>>4321211

Rolled 4, 1, 3 = 8 (3d6)

>>4321211
late, but rolling anyway

You guys want to use lucky for this roll?

>Yay
>Nay

>>4321223
>Yay
1/216? I like those odds.

>>4321223
>Yay
Why not, though of course there's no chance we get it. Is there a bonus for not crying out?

>>4321223
>Yay

>>4321239
Giving Lord Tarly a look of absolute smugness for one, as well as a surprise boon if you guys manage to nail it.

To keep things moving let's roll it. 3d6 lads. Best of 1

Rolled 5, 6, 1 = 12 (3d6)

>>4321246

>>4321253
Sorry guys, I failed you. But as anon said, this was a 1/216 chance

Destiny point? Or is that not relevant here? I really don't want to give this prick the satisfaction.

>>4321259
Lol no, it's not worth it spending a destiny point here just to spite him. Don't worry, when Tywin switches sides and the Reach surrenders to Robert, we'll rub it in his face.

Ah fair enough it was a long shot. But still, impressive work from Merv.

>>4321259
It could if you guys want it too. You would have to burn the point but if thats a path you guys want to pursue I'll make it worth burning the point. Perhaps someone who dislikes Lord Tarly taking notice? An ally or something once Mervyn is given land when this is all over? I don't know off the top of my head but I'll make it more than just snubbing the Lord of Horn Hill

>>4321273
Suppose it's better to save it.
Out of curiosity though, if we refused the leather from Ser Austin, would the will tests have become impossible at this stage?

>>4321273
I'm down to burn it. Sounds like an interesting way to use it.

I'll throw it to a vote. I'm thinking gaining the respect of someone and beginnings of a friendship with someone suitably highborn. Likely the head of a minor house that Mervyn can create a relationship. So that combined with giving Lord Tarly the finger.

--- Burn a destiny point? ---

>Yay
>Nay

>>4321309
>Yay

>>4321309
>yay

>>4321309
>Yay

>>4321309
>>Nay
need it for our family guys.

I change my mind
>nay
not really that worth it
>>4321313

I'm going to let this go overnight because its a very finite resource to spend.

>>4321338
The birth has already happened in game. The rolling for it will be done once Mervyn finds out what happened be it by raven or by speaking with someone who knows. The chance to use a destiny point to try and save either Alyssa or a one of the twins was lost when Mervyn decided to follow Elleanors orders to march with the Reach. It's all down to the dice roll now.

>>4321398
Given that we can’t use it for our family

I’ll back it in, sounds interesting
>yay

>>4321309
>Yay

>>4321398
In that case
>Yay

>>4321309
>yay

Fuck that cunt. After we inevitably switch sideds I hope we get to gut him.

>>4321309
>Yay
We’re a badass ain’t we

>>4321309
>>Yay

>>4321309
>Yay
Btw, Joe, how do we earn another one of these DPs?

>>4321309
>Nay
Are y'all crazy?

>>4321502
Considering that he is a canon character, we probably wont be able to. That being said, if we were to get the option, I'd certainly be all for it.

>>4321309
Yay

That's looking like a fairly strong yay to me. Ultra spiteful Mervyn it is! This is going to be fun to write. I'll have a post up around 1:30pm MST!

--- Ser Mervyn’s Will Test Rd. 3 ---
Rolled 15 vs DC: 15
Result: One Degree of Success

Eighteen. Tears were threatening to well in your eyes that made you thankful for the rain that was beginning to lash down all the harder. Your fingers wrapped around the wooden post and you could feel tiny slivers of wood slide into your skin as you grasped the post with all your might.

“Eighteen. Eighteen.” The number ran through your mind and was on your lips in an almost prayer like manner. When the nineteenth blow came you stiffened and grunted before delivering a savage headbutt to the post in an attempt to focus on something other than your back. When you looked down you could see blood was mixing in with the sleet and the mud below you staining it a peculiar shade of red.

You would not scream. You. Would. Not. Scream. You had screamed for your father when he wished to punish you and you had sworn to yourself it would be the last time. You’d nearly died from that whipping as you’d fought the urge to scream. The fever and infection that had set in would have been fatal but for a woods witch.

Black spots began to swarm at the edge of your vision as you waited for the final strike. You were close. So close. Your knees felt weak and you could feel your strength beginning to abandon you.

“One more. One more. One more.” You whispered through clenched teeth.

--- Ser Mervyn’s Will Test Rd. 4 ---
Rolled 12 vs DC: 18
Result: Test Failed
*Destiny Point Burned*
Result: One Degree of Success

Your eyes fell to see that the chain that held Alyssa’s locket around your neck had been broken by the flagellation. You looked frantically and found the locket lying open in the mud towards the sky. It was too far away to see the beautiful detail enclosed within but you knew it like the back of your hand. You would not disgrace yourself while your wife watched you.

Twenty. You felt skin break and tear apart with the final lash and can hear the crowd gasp from the severity of the blow. You straightened your knees and rolled your shoulders. Each raindrop that fell against your back felt like a needle stabbing you but you stood tall. You watched as Austin and Cardyn hurriedly rushed to take you down but not before Lord Tarly lashed out once more with the whip in a fit of anger and frustration. The crowd gasped once more but although the blow brought you down to one knee, you still remained silent and spat out the piece of leather.

“The…the locket. Cardyn. Get. Get my locket.” You whispered and pointed at where it lay precariously perched in the mud and your man quickly retrieves it before it was stepped on or otherwise ruined by the crowd that now swarmed to see you closer.

You leaned heavily on Austin and Cardyn with your arms over their shoulders as they sought to take you to the healers tents but not before you got a look at Lord Tarly. His face was red with anger and you could almost see steam rising from his bald head so hot was his blood running. You stopped in your tracks to give the mine a nod and a stare deep into his eyes. You had beaten him. Not given him the satisfaction. He threw down the whip into the mud and stalked away in a fury as he was followed by his own men when he saw you take a step under your own power. You clenched your fist around your locket but once you are out of eye sight from the high lords you lean on your men once more.

“Seven hells Ser. I’ve never seen something like that. Your back is a bloody ruin. I’ve had my own run in with the scourge but never so many and in silence.” Ser Cardyn spoke in a low voice as he took up more of your weight on his shoulder.

“We’re nearly there Ser.” Ser Austin whispered encouragingly.

A tent flap was thrown open and you could hear gasps from the healers as you were laid down on a wooden and canvas frame so they might treat your wounds.”

“Seven hells, Tarly’s done it again. Desmond, start boiling the wine. Skane, find needle and thread.”

The next few hours become a blur. You remember pain, almost more than the scourging itself until blackness over came you. When you woke, you found yourself laying on your stomach while your back was one gigantic ache and itch. You took a deep breath and prepared yourself to stand when a voice called out.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you…”

You looked around from your prone position and found the source of the voice coming from across the room. It was coming from a man who had his head bandaged tightly around his left eye. You stared at the heraldry and saw…

>A hanged man, black on blue (House Trant of Gallowsgrey of the Stormlands)
>Three castles, black on orange (House Peake of Starpike of the Dornish Marches)
>Per chevron engrailed grey and bone, three death’s head moths (House Horpe of Foglight)

>>4322159
>>A hanged man, black on blue (House Trant of Gallowsgrey of the Stormlands)

>>4322159
>>Three castles, black on orange (House Peake of Starpike of the Dornish Marches)

Secret Blackfyre loyalists. We will get our revenge on Tarly when Aegon lands

>>4322159
>Per chevron engrailed grey and bone, three death’s head moths (House Horpe of Foglight)
Are all three options prisoners of the other side? All three are Stormlanders who fought for Robert. Maybe we'll meet Richard Horpe. He's the right age for the time.

>>4322188
Hahaha maybe he'll grant Eleanor the Westerlands too as was planned with the Reynes during the first Blackfyre rebellion and our star will shine even higher

>>4322190
House Trant and Horpe are Stormlanders.

House Peake fought for the Reach but, at least in my version of this setting, are rivals of House Tarly being the other major Marcher Lord from the Reach. and as anon mentioned they are famous Blackfyre Loyalists

>>4322159
>>4322190
>>4322198
I'll change this to House Peake then
>Three castles, black on orange (House Peake of Starpike of the Dornish Marches)

>>4322159
>>Three castles, black on orange (House Peake of Starpike of the Dornish Marches)

>>4322159
>A hanged man, black on blue (House Trant of Gallowsgrey of the Stormlands)

>>4322159
>>Three castles, black on orange (House Peake of Starpike of the Dornish Marches)

Alright Mervyn will get to meet Irvin Peake, the Lord of Starpike and rival of House Tarly. I'll start writing in about half an hour.

You stared at the heraldry and saw a man wearing three black castles on a field of orange sitting on the edge of his own cot. He wore a black beard that was closely cropped and the left side of his head was bandaged. The blue eye you could see was staring at you curiously and you let out a long deep breath before speaking.

“How long have I been in here?”

“Two days. The maesters have been keeping you asleep with milk of the poppy. Can’t say I blame them. I saw your back when you came in here. Lord Tarly is draconian disciplinarian. I’ve seen men die from his scourgings. Not anyone highborn mind you, but I have seen smallfolk die from their wounds.”

You rubbed your eyes and tried to take in what this man was telling you.

“Must be my lucky day. I’m not particularly noble myself. Who are you? One of the Stormlord prisoners?”

The man guffawed and showed you his wrists. “You see any chains on these wrists? No, my name is Irving Peake. Lord of Starpike, sworn to House Tyrell of Highgarden.”

“Ser Mervyn Reynold, of Ember Peak.” Your reply was short, but fatigue and your altered state of mind would forgive any bluntness in your manner.

“You’re the the leader of the Westermen correct? The one who interrupted the parley?”

When you nodded your head softly Lord Irving chuckles merrily to himself. “I heard two of your men speaking about how you didn’t make a sound during your whipping. Gave Tarly fits to hear them speak of it, and any man that gets under that pricks skin is a friend of mine. It’s a pleasure to meet you Ser Mervyn, even if the circumstances are unfortunate. What with your back being torn to shreds and my damn near losing an eye. Maesters say I’ll likely never see out of it again, that I’m lucky enough to still have it in my damn socket.”

Thankfully Lord Irving was interrupted by an elderly maester arriving to inspect the mans injured eye. You watched from across the room as he carefully unwound the bandaged and tisked and tutted and you get a glimpse of an eye that had gone completely white, framed above and below by a nasty looking scar that had been stitched up by deft hands.

“Well Lord Peake I believe you are past the worst of it. If you are still experiencing pain, send for me and I will have you sent milk of the poppy. Elsewise there is little else we can do for you until your stiches either need changing or removing.”

“I suppose the scar won’t be going away anytime soon will it?”

The maester sighed. “My lord, as I told, the scarring will fade some but it will always be permanent. The fact you still have an eye, even if it is blind, is nothing short of a miracle.”

“My lady wife will still be wroth me. My left eye was her favourite.” He looked at you and gave a quick smile before standing from the cot. “Yes, yes Maester Boring that was just a jest. Ser Mervyn, I would like to extend you an invitation to join me in my pavilion when you are well enough.”

“Maester Morin. And Ser Mervyn here shall not be joining anyone for anything anytime soon.”

He crossed the room to you pulling forth another vial that you swalled despite the bitter taste. Almost immediately you felt your eyes beginning to grow heavy once more as the maester began to replace the poultice on your back and you felt your eyes close and darkness overwhelmed you once more.

--- 14/10/282 ---

It had been over a month and a half since the scouring you’d taken at the hands of Lord Tarly and you were finally beginning to feel normal again. There were still scabs on your back from some of the especially deep wounds, but most of them had turned to scars.

The Reach host had continued on eastwards. The goal, or so you had been informed, was to lay siege to Storm’s End, the ancestral seat of House Baratheon. The massive host had continued until it had veered north as Lord Mace Tyrell decided to go through the south of the Kingswood instead of over the Red Mountains in pursuit of his goal. All of this Ser Austin had told you as you were no longer invited to meetings of strategy, nor anything else for that matter. If Lord Mace or Lord Tarly was in attendance, you were not.

That hadn’t left you completely without company on the long march to Storm’s End however. Pastorn Malroy had called upon you while you healed, and Lord Peake had also offered invitation to join him in his pavilion. Lastly, there was the matter of your prisoner, Ser Pennifer Wensington.

--- What matter would you like to deal with first? ---

>Supping with Lord Irving Peake
>Speaking with Pastorn Malroy
>Questioning Ser Pennifer Wensington

>>4322456
>Speaking with Pastorn Malroy

>>4322456
>Speaking with Pastorn Malroy

>>4322456
>>Speaking with Pastorn Malroy

>>4322159
>Seven hells, Tarly’s done it again
kek
Based Merv

>>4322456
>Supping with Lord Irving Peake

>>4322456
>>Supping with Lord Irving Peake

Alright Pastorn Malroy first. I'll get writing here

You changed quickly into fresh clothes, a plain cotton shirt and britches over which you wore a grey doublet and attached your ruby eagle pin to your chest. Pulling the clothes over your back agitated the scabs slightly but you shrugged off the discomfort.

Walking our of your own tent into the camp you find yourself walking towards where the small contingent of Crowlanders were encamped. The journey with such a host had been a slow one, especially once you had entered the Kingswood properly. As you approached Felwood however the speed had slowed to an absolute crawl. House Fell, which had originally supported the Targaryens had joined House Baratheon in rebelling once Lord Robert had slain Lord Fell in single combat.

Ser Austin had told you that Lord Tyrell, through Lord Tarly, had planned on leaving each castle that had joined Lord Robert under siege by a smaller section of the host. This would have the benefit of decreasing the amount of supplies and foraging needed to be done by the army in one area, and ensure that the Stormlanders did not have a safe haven to return to. Lastly, it would also create a buffer zone around Storm’s End with which to protect Lord Tyrell if Robert Baratheon turn his entire host south.

The Crownland forces were small, numbering less than a thousand, but they still dwarfed your own forces. You’d not seen Sandor Hill and the Reynold scouts in months and as such, it was just your singular Loyal Reins to represent the Westerlands. You passed by banners you recognized such as a small group of Chelsted men, and many you didn’t. White stars on purple, three spirals green red and blue, red crabs on white. Eventually you came to a small gathering of mostly black tents that bore the purple and black banner emblazoned with the golden horse of House Malroy.

The largest tent you took for that of Ser Dontos, but not far from it you found a smaller pavilion where outside stood the horse you recognized as Pastorns. You approached the pavilion and were greeted by his squire, Grimsley Grell.

“Ser Mervyn. Is Ser expecting you?”

“Not specifically, no. He called on me when I was bedridden.”

“Just a moment Ser. I will inform him of your presence.”

The youth disappeared inside the tent and you were soon welcomed inside. You recognized the pavilion from Harrenhal and Pastorn stood when he saw you and dismissed his squire and bid you to sit.

“Grimsley, bring us food and wine if you please.”

“Ser, I believe that we have run low on wine.”

“Beer or ale will do as well. Water if you can find neither of those. Thank you Grimsley.”

The squire disappeared out of the room and Pastorn looked at you with his emerald green eyes and melancholy look that seemed endemic to him.

“I’m glad to see you have recovered Ser Mervyn. Are you well?”

“Well enough to ride my horse anyways, and not on one of those damn wagons.”

“That is good. Have you named your horse by chance?”

“I never got around to it if I’m honest. I think this is the first horse I haven’t named. I used to name all of my fathers animals as a boy. My mule was his, gave him the name Mountain because he was grey.”

That brings a polite laugh that falls to awkward silence and you can see Pastorn fiddling his fingers awkwardly as he looks away to a small fire burning in it’s hearth.

“Ser Mervyn, what you did at the Battle of Ashford. Why did you do it? Surely you knew you would be punished?”

“I couldn’t say really. I just did. Maybe I thought that …I should be there despite my birth. I didn’t really think about it at the time.”

That brings a different kind of laugh to Pastorns lips. It was a short and almost contemptuous sound and he brought up his hand to cover his mouth and rub at his bare shaven cheeks. There was pain in it as well even though he attempted to hide it.

What? What’s funny about that?”

“Nothing. Nothing at all Ser Mervyn.”

--- Can I get 3d6 for Charm please ---
DC: 12, 18

>>4322818

Rolled 6, 4, 5 = 15 (3d6)

>>4322818

Rolled 2, 6, 2 = 10 (3d6)

>>4322818

Rolled 6, 3, 3 = 12 (3d6)

>>4322818

Well done Lads. Well done.

Sorry guys I had company show up unexpectedly. I'll try to get a post up before I go to sleep but if not I'll continue in the morning

>>4322818
Did Mervyn remind him of Brynden ?

>>4323430
I personally don't see a lot of similarity between the characters normally. Yes they are both ruthless, but I think Mervyn is far less honourable than Brynden. Not to mention Brynden has that sellsword swagger and charm where Merv is alot more blunt and to the point.

However, if interrupting a parley because he felt he should be there isn't the most Brynden Malroy thing that Mervyn has ever done, I don't know what is.

Anyways, I'm back writing now!

“You can just call me Mervyn. No need to keep putting a Ser in front of it.”

“I apologize Ser. It’s simply a habit.”

You gave him a look with an eye brow raised in mild annoyance. “Whatever you say Pastorn. But back to what we were speaking of. What was so funny?”

--- Ser Mervyn’s Persuasion (Charm) Test ---
Rolled 15 vs DC: 12, 18
Results: One Degree of Success, Failed

The look Pastorn gives you is tight lipped. Briefly you can see wildfire flare in his eyes but he blinked it away and the eyes had returned to their soft embers of emerald green. He ran his hand through his pitch black hair and sighed softly.

“You just reminded me of my brother was all. Headstrong and reckless. Not thinking of the consequences of his actions.”

“Your brother…Donold correct?”

He shook his head. “Donold is willful in his own way. He detests politics and his refusal to go about courting a wife drives my father to fits. But Brynden…”

“What happened to him?”

“He had a child with a “girl” from King’s Landing. He insisted on acknowledging the child and marrying the girl. I think he mentioned she was from Pentos, or maybe Tyrosh. Either way she was low born, and father had already arranged a betrothal with House Sunglass. Brynden…refused. He ranted and raged, even after mother convinced my father to allow the child and the girl to live in Steadhold, because they expected him to do his duty and marry the Sunglass girl. He fled to Essos with the girl, and despite our attempts to contact him, he remains in his own self imposed exile.”

“Seven. I didn’t know. I’m…”

“Don’t trouble yourself Ser Mervyn. Few enough in the Crownlands know of his whereabouts and I do not make a habit of speaking about him. I am the second son now, and that is what the rest of the world needs to know.”

“Is being the second son that heavy of a burden? I can’t say I know much of the responsibilities. I was my fathers only son and lowborn besides.”

Pastorn shakes his head at you mournfully. “Mervyn, what do you dream of?”

--- Ser Mervyn’s response ---
>Becoming a landed knight
>Having a family
>Being respected
>Something else (Write in)

>>4324255
>Becoming a landed knight

>>4324255
>Becoming a landed knight

>>4324255
>Becoming a landed knight

>>4324255
>Becoming a landed knight
Something to pass onto our son. More then just a name, a home.

>>4324255
>Becoming a landed knight

Ah man that got me right in the feels.

>>4324255
>Being respected

>>4324255
>>Becoming a landed knight to provide safety for my family.

>>4324524
I like to imagine that our wife's lady in waiting spent a night with Pastorn and ended up pregnant. So now there is a secret Malroy bastard in Ember Peak.

>>4324533
I saw you posted on the wrong quest anon.

>>4324539
shush. You cant prove anything

>>4324255
>Being respected

>>4324324
Really? I'll take that as high praise anon.

>>4324533
Oh Father and I have plans for Cerenna. But I think House Malroy has enough bastards from Brynden that Pastorn doesn't need any.

Anyways, seeing as it's a Friday night I'm going to run to the booze store and then I'll get writing here.

>>4324255
>>Something else (Write in)
Legacy, I want my own house, my own land, my own castle were I can die and be buried

>>4324712
explain that is a word that we recently discovered and then hit him with the tywin speech about legacy about something to pass on once we are gone

“I want to be landed. I want something more than just a name to give my children. My fathers entire legacy was a mule, a rounsey, a suit of rusted old armour and a name. I was born Mervyn Hill, and no matter where I went it caused me grief. The smallfolk were either scared to speak to me or spiteful for the privilege while the highborn spat down on me for my bastard name, despite me being true born.”

You paused for a moment to think about your next words ad listened to the wind blowing outside the pavilion and the fire crackling in its hearth.

“I want to give my son a legacy. A keep or tower that he will rule from one day. I want a home Paston. A home for my family and I.”

“Is that why you took your sigil?” He asked in his melancholic and lilting tone. He had a way of speaking that made everything seem more than what it was.

“My sigil?”

“Yes, your sigil. A phoenix, black after rising from the ashes against a field of red.”

You stared at the table between the two of you and found yourself wanting for a cup you could drink from. In truth, you’d never thought about it. A black eagle had just seemed fitting.

“It’s a black eagle. The yellow bend represents the gold road, and the red is for the Reynold colours.”

“Truly? If I may be so bold I would say that is a tad mundane Mervyn. A phoenix still covered in ash, rising above the flames. It’s rather poetic. You rising from the pyre of your birth, still marked by it and yet flying to the sky?”

You chuckled and raised a non existent glass. “To me and my sooty pheonix.”

“To House Reynold of the Pyre. May it rise from the ashes and soar upwards towards the sun.”

The two of you saluted your imaginary wine glasses and as if one cue Grimsley entered the room with two mugs on a wooden platter along with some bread and cheese that he layed on the table before you. The two of you picked up the mugs and clashed them together to make the toast real and drank. It was dark and yeasty ale, bitter to the point of a grimace but you found yourself taking a long pull of the stuff. Pastorn on the other hand takes only a small swallow and beckons for a cup of water.

“It’s your turn now Pastorn. What is it you want? What do you dream of?”

A sorrowful smile creeps on his face as he looks back to his mug and he picks it up gingerly.

“They are better left forgotten now my friend. But I will drink to your family instead. How are Alyssa and Marqus?”

The mugs clunked together and you drank once more. “They were well last time I saw them. Although it has been months. Alyssa will have given birth to our second child by now, and Marqus is growing stronger and faster by the day. Crawling everywhere and babbling constantly.”

“I’m glad to hear it. Have you not heard of their health?”

“I’ve not had the opportunity. No way to send or receive a raven out here.”

You could see Pastorn’s mind working behind his eyes. He nibbled at a piece of cheese and rolled his fingers on the table.

“Ser Mervyn, would you accompany me once to Steadhold once we reach Storm’s End? I may not be supposed to tell you this but once the Stormlands are under siege, a sizeable contingent is being sent north to King’s Landing. The Dornish are moving through the mountains to join us on the march up the Kingsroad. We could send a raven to Ember Peak from Steadhold. And it would get you out of the sights of Lord Tarly. I could speak to my uncle and Lord Tyrell asking for your assistance…”

--- Have Pastorn ask for your men to accompany him north? ---

>yay
>nay

>>4324728
>yay

>>4324728
>yay

>>4324728
>yay

>>4324728
Pastorn is Mervyn's best friend. His only friend rally

>>4324728
>Yay

>>4324728
>yay

>>4324728
>>yay

>>4324728
>Yay

What an absolute lad. You'd really think circumstances of birth and Pastorn having seen the fallout of associating with the commonborn through Brynden he'd be less willing to deal with Merv. But nope, absolute lad status. Oh god it's going to hurt later.

>>4324805
Yeah, this is going to be messy, isn't it?

File: glee.gif (572 KB, 200x295)

572 KB GIF

Yay it is, and the bromance continues.

>>4324743
The foundations have been laid with Lord Peake now, but as it stands you are correct. Austin and Cardyn are close to him, but not people that he confides in.

>>4324805
I think the part of the reason Pastorn likes Merv (asides from some good rolling) is because Mervyn expects nothing from him. He's just a salt of the earth guy who vaguely reminds him of his lost brother. That might even be because he was lowborn to be honest. Him having no real highborn tendencies is probably refreshing since he become the ever so talked about "spare" for his parents.

>>4324808
gif potentially related

“I’d be in your debt Pastorn. Marqus’ birth was hard on her and our maester warned us that this birth would be a difficult one.”

Then once Storm’s End is under siege and I head north, you’ll accompany House Malroy. I’ll make sure of it. I can’t imagine you’ve made too many friends since Ashford.”

“Ha. Well, I might have made one. A Lord Irving Peake seemed to warm to me when we were both in the healers tents.”

“Lord Peake? Just be careful where you tread Ser Mervyn. You may not know this but House Peake have not always been strong supporters of House Targaryen. I won’t tell you not to seek out his friendship but just be wary. There is a reason that their arms display three castles and they only possess one.”

“Lord Irving seemed a good man to me. He seems martial, nor does he have a stick up his ass.”

“I know little of Lord Irving and his virtues but House Peake were notorious Blackfyre supporters. As I said Mervyn, I won’t try to dissuade you from befriending the man, just tread carefully. Old loyalties die hard.”

“I know that all too well my friend.” You thought back to Elleanor Reynold and her old loyalties to House Reyne. You had done things for her spite that most men would balk at. It had taken her threatening your child for you to even consider changing your loyalties.

The two of you continued to talk into the night as you discussed all manner of things. Horses, Marqus, your childhoods and the Battle of Ashford were all spoken of until you eventually took your leave and wandered back to your own tent. As was your habit you gazed at your locket lovingly until your eyes could no longer stay open and the darkness took you.

--- Who to visit with next? ---

>Lord Irving Peake
>Ser Pennifer Wensington

I'll be continuing tomorrow. Thanks for playing guys!

>>4324950
>>Lord Irving Peake

>>4324950
>>Lord Irving Peake
thanks for writing!

>>4324950
>>Lord Irving Peake

>>4324950
>Lord Irving Peake

>>4324950
>>Lord Irving Peake

>>4324950
>Lord Irving Peake

>>4324950
>Lord Irving Peake

>>4324726
What a deeply touching scene, Joe! Absolutely loved it

>>4324950
>Lord Irving Peake

Seven above! I stop following this thread for a few months and some how everything turns to shit.
>Elleanor knows we're trying to play both sides
>We tossed aside Tyrus over a simple tantrum
>We've just been given 20 lashes like some fucking lowborn nobody
>Our wife or children are probably dead
>We even managed to burn our only DP
How the hell y'all manage to dig us into this hole?
The only way it could get worse is if our bff was somehow murdered, his castle sacked and his sister kidnapped.

>>4331291
>The only way it could get worse is if our bff was somehow murdered, his castle sacked and his sister kidnapped.

That would just be absurd!

>>4331291
Not that any of this is a criticism of Joe. We brought every bit of this down on our own heads through monumentally shitty decision making and I'm glad he didn't pussyfoot around on the consequences, would've permanently undercut the drama of the quest.

>>4331299
I honestly think it is nice: Mervyn is a lowborn promoted way too high for him to be comfortable. He is gonna fuck up and fuck up a lot.

>>4331291
>like some fucking lowborn nobody

Anon...

>>4331291
>We tossed aside Tyrus over a simple tantrum
I think this is oversimplified. Tyrus is a highborn cunt. The way he is acting is everything Merv would hate about highborns. The entitlement is off the charts

>>4331306
Yeah, I get that. I'm justifying it in my head as Mervyn losing his shit over the position he's suddenly found himself in
>Trying to navigate webs of politics and plots that even lifelong nobles would consider elaborate
>Caught between Tywin 'Rains of Castamere' Lannister and Elleanor 'I could murder your baby while you sleep' Reynold
>Forced to weigh his natural loyalty to the woman who raised him out of the mud against his equally natural desire to build a legacy for his children.
Not to mention the burden of being the only sane man in a keep where everyone keeps shouting ''my mummy wouldn't kill no babies'' when his hands are stained red from doing just that and she's considering how to burn down orphanages in the hope that the smoke might make Tywin's eyes sting.

He's playing cards at a table with two of the best schemers in the seven kingdoms when he doesn't know the rules, wasn't dealt any cards except a winning smile and the stakes include your life, your infant son's life and the lives of everyone you care about - A man could be forgiven for making some bad decisions under the pressure.

>>4331317
I still think Mervyn acted prematurely. Should've given the boy another chance.
Pragmatically it was a poor choice too.

>>4331317
I'd agree with this assessment and find that Mervyn's response was in line with his characterization of having a poor temper and occasionally allowing it to boil over and make the decisions for him.

I very much believe the relationship between the two can be rebuilt and likely will be on the future. Not on the back of Tyrus maturing more than likely, but if I had to guess probably shared tragedy.

You were surveying your lands from the top of your tower. Black eagle banners snapped fiercely in the wind as you looked down from your mountain fastness over the land that was yours. You could see smallfolk tilling the fields and craftsmen plying their wares in the small village that had sprung up below your walls. Pride swelled within your chest.

You descended downwards on a set of spiralling stone stairs to the main hall where you held court. Your seat was carved from ebony and dark walnut, with two eagles crowning the chair was they sought to rose upwards. Taking your seat you began to held court. You looked to your left and saw that Alyssa had joined you. You settled dispute beneath farmers and gave permission for a blacksmith to set up shop on your lands. The last man came forth and removed his cloaks and your heart seized up in your chest.

You stared at your father from on high and in his eyes saw nothing but derision. A young boy stood in front of him that somehow you knew to be Marqus. Your fathers hand was on his shoulder holding him with an iron grip as they walked towards the dais.

“Well look what you’ve done here. Well done boy you finally did it. You think this makes you better than me?” He was speaking in unfamiliar tones that seemed more sophisticated than he ever had in your memory. “Well you might have gotten yourself landed but you still don’t know anything about being a father. Don’t worry though, I’ll rectify that today. Don’t worry, I promise to talk fancy now to the Knight of whatever you call this. I know my manners.” A grin crept onto his face and you could see purple bruising creeping up his neck.

“Guards. Seize him.” The guards came forth from their posts but you noticed how they each bore your fathers face. You saw one man wrap his arm around Alyssa and put a knife to her throat. Your father walked beckoned you outwards to the yard where he tied Marqus up to a post and walked towards you. He produced a whip and gave it to you. It wasn’t the old and beaten thing he had used on you during your childhood, but instead a cruel thing with small iron barbs adorning the end of it.

“I trust you remember when I had to discipline you. Well now you’ll have to discipline him if you ever want to see your wife alive again.” He leaned into you and whispered the next words. “I’ll strangle the life from her and make you watch boy. You killed my wife, so don’t think that I won’t kill yours.”

As if you were on autopilot you approached your son. He wasn’t crying or pleading, instead standing there quietly as you uncurled the whip but you could not bring yourself to do it. Not like this.

“DO IT! DO IT!” You heard your father scream. When you didn’t you watched as one of your fathers shades went to draw a blade across Alyssa’s neck.

--- 19/10/282 ---

Your eyes snapped open and you saw Austin standing in the entrance of your tent.

“Ser? Seven above you’re sweating. Is everything alright?”

“It’s fine Austin, just a…just a bad dream.”

“As you say. Well, you have been summoned by Lord Peake. He’s been given charge over the siege of Felwood and has asked for you personally.”

“Well I’d best be about seeing him than.”

“As you say. You should also be about finding a squire instead of having me run around to fetch you Ser.” He smiled as he said the jape but he was right nonetheless. Perhaps you could find a boy from within the camp to attend to you.

“I’ll get to work on finding a new boy. Seven it’s almost enough to make me miss Tyrus the little shit.”

“He knew his duties even if he was a touch…mercurial.”

You left the conversation there and dressed yourself quickly as you made for where Lord Peake was encamped. The trees were everywhere, covered in moss and it seemed as if the entire world was painted in varying shades of brown and green. The castle of House Fell lay not twenty minutes to the south from the encampment and so seeing the orange and black tent was a welcome sight as you approached. Lord Peake burst forth from the tent and upon seeing you greeted you heartily.

“Ser Mervyn! I see your man got my message to you. Walk with me Ser. Walk with me.” He set off in the direction of the castle.

“I’ve been put in charge of this siege Ser, but I find myself troubled. The castle appears to be lightly held. The rest of our host moves on, but they move slowly. I fear once they are gone that reinforcments might take me in the rear. I can see through Lord Tarly’s plan to use my forces as a bulwark to protect his own from retaliation should Robert turn south again. I could sit here and starve these poor boys and greybeards out but I am inclined to at least speak with whoever stands as Castellan here. Should I attack, I need someone to lead my men. I don’t need your cavalry but I do need a hard man to take charge through the gates. My best man was killed at Ashford and find myself in need of someone my men will respect. And someone who can take twenty lashes without uttering a sound is some I believe they will. What do you say Ser?”

--- Accept the proposition to lead Lord Irving Peake’s men in the Siege of Felwood? ---

>>4331418
Yes

>>4331418
Oh hell yeah boys. Let's get that good loot.

>>4331418
nah

>>4331418
Yes,

Unless it will interfere with our agreement with Pastorn

>>4331418
>Yes

>>4331418
>--- Accept the proposition to lead Lord Irving Peake’s men in the Siege of Felwood? ---
Yes, assuming it won't conflict with Pastorn's plan

>assuming it won't interfere with the plan with Pastorn
Haha you guys are funny. If the host leaves, Pastorn is part of the host.

It won't interfere. Lord Irving wants to take Felwood quickly, and the main host is moving very slowly so even if Mervyn dawdles for a week or two at Felwood,it would be rather easy for him to catch up nearer to Storms End. I'll leave this vote for another fifteen minutes while I scrounge for some food and then get writing

>>4331462
Really? Well alright then. Active Merv it is

>>4331464
Pastorn will leave with the host, but the Crownland forces arn't heading northwards until Storms End is under siege. With such a massive host, I figure they have another month or so before they reach the castle moving through the woods and foothills, whereas Mervyn travelling with a far smaller host will be able to catch up quite easily

Welcome back, finally! Both Asoiaf quests went dead at the same time, I was so bored

>>4331418
Yes

>>4331462
>>4331468
changing to yeah then

Also, as I'm writing this, Mervyn's golden horse is still unnamed. I don't know if it's worth making it a scene in the quest but if you have any ideas for naming him feel free to throw them out. Or we can just leave it unnamed too if you guys would prefer

>>4331519
Brightmane

>>4331519
"Dog"

>>4331519
Ashford
After his first battle

“I say that I’m your man my lord.”

Lord Irving claps you on the back and barks out a laugh. “I was hoping you’d say as much. I am on my way to that parley I mentioned as we speak. Unlike Lord Tarly, I would like you there Ser. I for one still hunger for glory, and if I can deny Tarly as such than all the better. I trust that you can assist me in that?”

You nodded your head and he smiles. “Good. Meet me in your armour ahorse at the edge of the clearing around the castle as soon as you are able. Do not dally Ser Mervyn.”

You walked briskly towards where your belongings were kept and struggled into your armour by yourself. Cardyn heard your struggles and lended you a hand in dressing. Your noticed more than a few scratches on your plate and even a small ruby missing from your breastplate. You curled your lip in annoyance. Like as not it was trod into the dirt at Ashford. Perhaps when this was all over you would purchase a second suit of plate. One more plain and suited for true war instead of the decorum of tournaments like your current plate was.

You rode on your unnamed horse towards the clearing as you got comfortable in your saddle once more. This was the first time you’d worn your plate since your whipping and you were comforted by the fact that it bothered you little. A slight discomfort from the one scar that stubbornly refused to completely heal but asides from that you felt confident. Your hammer was within arms reach, hung on your saddle and your battered shield was hung on the side as well. You looked the very image of a knight as you rode into the clearing and met with Lord Peake.

He had dressed in his plate as well, and was accompanied by a small cadre of men whose heraldry you knew little of. You were handed a banner of white wool and together you rode as Lord Peake promised to make introductions once this parley was all said and done.

Together the seven of you waited outside of arrow range beneath the view of Felwood. It was a tall castle, almost resembling the trees that surrounded it in a way. Ancient and moss covered, it’s walls almost grew out of the ground organically as it’s spires rose out of the woods. Fell was an apt descriptor of the castle too however, as it had an ill omened look about it. It’s stone was dark and there was a certain feeling about the castle that you did not like.

The castle gates opened and out rode a similar number of men to match your own under the banners of peace and House Fell. As they approached you saw the man who led them was an older man. He carried himself well however and you could see he was an able horseman despite the fact the men who rode with him were decidedly not.

“Good day.” Lord Irving began cheerfully. “I am Lord Irving Peake and I appear to have your castle surrounded.”

The older man scowled as he responded. “I am Ser Ferdinad Gower. Castellan of Felwood. I take it you wanted to speak with me by the banner you’re flying. Get to it.”

If the brusqueness of the castellans response bothered Lord Peake he gave no sign. “As a matter of fact I did. As I mentioned, and am sure you have noticed, we have you surrounded. I thought it only chivalrous to offer you a chance to surrender and save the lives of you and your men.”

Ser Ferdinad spat into the loamy soil. “Felwood hasn’t fallen in over three hundred years.”

“That may be true Ser, but it also likely hasn’t been almost entirely abandoned in three hundred years. Rumour has it that Silveraxe took every able bodied man he had to prove his loyalty to Lord Baratheon after his father stayed loyal to the crown.”

“I’m not here to discuss my own strength. If you want to find out just how strong we are come and try to take the castle. We’ll bleed you dry my Lord.”

“Ser Ferdinad, I would like to introduce Ser Mervyn Reynold to you.” He gestured towards you and you nodded your head by way of greeting and tightened your grip on the reins. “Ser Mervyn, can you think of another way we might settle this?”

“Single combat.” You said it after picking up where Lord Riving was going.

“I should think that might save many lives on both sides. Ser Mervyn, perhaps you can convince Ser Ferdinad such a thing might be beneficial to him…

--- How does Mervyn approach the matter ---
>Convince
>Intimidate

>>4331565
>Intimidate

>>4331565
>Intimidate

>>4331565
>Intimidate

>>4331519
Horse

>>4331565
>>Intimidate

>>4331565
Intimidate

>>4331565
>Intimidate

At least by some accounts in our own history, there was a common sentiment that the blame of a sack was to be laid on the defenders if they refused an opportunity to yield before the gates were breached. He needs to know, or at least think, that we will go through with it.

>>4331565
>>Intimidate

>>4331565
>Intimidate

>>4331595
Yeah, I agree, something on the lines of 'we will spare you if you lay down your arms peacefully but it you make us work for it and delay our plans, we'll personally make sure that the castle is sacked properly and none are left unharmed'

Can I get 4d6+2 for intimidate please. DC: 15

Rolled 6, 5, 2, 2 + 2 = 17 (4d6 + 2)

>>4331658

Rolled 1, 3, 3, 3 + 2 = 12 (4d6 + 2)

>>4331658

Rolled 4, 2, 2, 5 + 2 = 15 (4d6 + 2)

>>4331658

>>4331519
Golden Flare

>>4331664
And that is a fifteen on the nose. MORTAL KOMBAT!

>>4331519
Lamborghini Murcielago

--- Ser Mervyn’s Persuasion (Intimidate) Roll ---
Rolled 15 vs DC: 15
Result: One Degree of Success

“You have three options. You can surrender, and all of you will live The garrison, the smallfolk, any women and children. They will all be safe. You can choose to fight in single combat, in which case I will gladly champion Lord Peake and slaughter you like the old man that you are. Or lastly, you can refuse both of those and every man, woman and child in Felwood will die. By the gods I’ll even make sure that every horse, dog, pig and rat dies with you.”

You raised up your visor and looked at him with your empty sky blue eyes. You let him see just how serious you were and you could see the realisation in his eyes that you were telling the truth. He was a proud man however, and perhaps in his day a martial one as well, and he straightened his back and looked at you coldly.

“I will have no man say I am a coward, nor that I failed in my duty to protect Felwood and its people. Lord Peake, I have your word that should I accept your challenge of single combat that win or lose, the people of Felwood will be left unharmed?”

“You have my word Ser Ferdinad.”

“Then tomorrow at dawn I will meet you outside these gates. Either you, or your man here, and when you lay dying in the mud you will leave Felwood unmolested.”

“Just as your people will open the gates when you fall?”

“A septon will oversee the duel, and my people will respect his words.”

“Excellent. Good day Ser Ferdinad. I suggest you pray well tonight for you will surely need it on the morrow.”

The two parties rode off towards their respective camps and Lord Irving looked at you with a flint in his eyes. “Ser Mervyn, I take it you would like the honour of championing my cause on the morrow?”

I don’t even know why I’m putting this to a vote

--- Fight as Lord Irving Peake’s Champion on the morrow? ---
>Yay
>Nay but secretly yay
>Nay for real

>>4331703
Yay even without reading

>>4331703
>Yay

>>4331703
>Yay

>>4331703
>Yay

I'll make this more interesting.

--- Allow Ser Ferdinad to dictate the details of the combat? Afoot/Ahorse, weapon type etc? ---

>Yes
>No

>>4331724
>No

>>4331724
>Yes

>>4331724
>He can stipulate ahorse or afoot, but not what weapons and armor we can use.

>>4331724
Yeah sure fuck it. A curveball will make this less of an outright murder.

>>4331724
>Yes

>>4331724
>Yes
Only because I want to know what this prick will say

Looking like a yes. Alright I have to go take care of some things but I should be back in an hour or two! See you all real soon!

“Gladly my lord. Gladly.”

“Excellent. Now, introductions are in order…”

You are introduced to the rest of the five men who accompanied the two of you. A household knight by the name of Ser Yohn Blackmarch is first, followed by two low born captains of Lord Peake’s infantry. They went by the names of Jon and Jack and seemed to be likeable enough men. There was also a captain of archers who went by the name of Lucamore Flowers and was as flowery as his name. Lastly, there was a Ser Nathaniel Thorn. He was a bannerman and landed knight who was sworn to House Peake. The two of you shook hands and you could see a small amount of resentment in your eyes but you ignored it.

You spent the remainder of the day with Lord Peake as men around you worked to set up a camp. It was better to be prepared Lord Peake explained, and should Ser Ferdinad renege on the agreement then he would batter down the gate. You had watched as men began hewing trees to make ladders as well as a battering ram.

--- 20/10/282 ---

You stood across from Ser Ferdinad. The unrelenting cloud and rain had finally let up and sunlight was shining down upon the soft muddy soil. He rode forwards to meet you mounted and it was there the two of you began to speak.

“Ser…Merlin was it.”

“Mervyn.”

“Ser Mervyn. Have you a preference in how this is fought.”

“No more than I care about your name.”

He looked your horse up and down shrewdly before dismounting and you followed suit. He signalled to his squire who brought forth a great two handed axe. “Two handed weapons.”

You pulled your two handed hammer from your saddle and grasped it tightly in your hands. You’d not used it in live combat yet but your face remained as passive. This man was dead, he just didn’t realize it yet.

The septon that had come forth from Felwood began to bless the two of you among other things and you patiently waited for him to finish. You looked backwards over your shoulder and saw an uncountable number of men watching you. When you raised your hammer they cheered raucously before you looked at the rag tag assembly of defenders lining the walls. Boys who looked as young as ten stood next to men who looked as if they might be eighty, hastily armed with spears and kettle helms. A few of them cheered but it was not audible over Lord Peake’s men…

You stepped forward and hoisted your hammer as you began to slowly close the distance and Ser Ferdinad did the same…

--- Can I get 7d6+1 for fighting please ---

Rolled 1, 2, 6, 6, 5, 5, 4 = 29 (7d6)

>>4332051

Rolled 4, 6, 4, 4, 5, 2, 1 + 1 = 27 (7d6 + 1)

>>4332051

Rolled 2, 5, 1, 2, 2, 6, 6 + 1 = 25 (7d6 + 1)

>>4332051

Rolled 3, 6, 1, 3, 4, 3, 5 + 1 = 26 (7d6 + 1)

>>4332051

I'll also need 3d6 for agility please

Rolled 3, 6, 2 = 11 (3d6)

>>4332093

Rolled 3, 3, 1 = 7 (3d6)

>>4332093

Rolled 3, 2, 5 = 10 (3d6)

>>4332093

Rolled 5, 4, 1 = 10 (3d6)

>>4332093

Is the lower dice pool a temporary thing since it's a new weapon or something? I didn't think 2h hammers normally had training penalties.

>>4332180
The warhammer has a -1b, but now that you mention it it should still be 8d6+1 because of "Expertise". My bad. I'll make sure I ask for it next round

--- Combat Round 1 ---
~ Agility ~
Ser Mervyn Reynold rolled 11
Ser Ferdinad rolled 13

Ser Ferdinad rolled 17 vs Combat Defense 7
Three Degrees of Success
7 Damage x 3 = 21 Damage
21 – 11 Armour Rating = 10 Damage
12 Health – 10 Damage = 2 Health

Ser Mervyn rolled 26 vs Combat Defense 6
Four Degrees of Success
*Bludgeon Fighter l activated*
Plate AR reduced from 10 to 8
9 Damage x 4 = 36 Damage
36 – 10 Armour Rating = 26 Damage
*1/2 Wounds taken*
9 Health – 0 Damage = 9 Health

The older man moved faster than you would have thought. Reflex almost caused you to bring up your shield arm in response. That gave him the opportunity to bring his axe down on your elbow. The crunch of metal on metal filled your ears and the sharp feeling of pain burst forth. You cursed under your breath as you nearly lost your grip on your hammer for a moment. The old man might have had a trick or two up his sleeve but you knew the only reason he got to use it was because you underestimated him.

You favoured your left arm slightly as you used your footwork and whirled around your hammer. Ser Ferdinad deftly brought the reinforced haft of his weapon to meet your blow but he did not realize that this was part of your intention. With a surge of strength you pull the man forward by hooking the head of your hammer on the shaft of his axe. To his credit he retained his grip but he fell forward to his knees and as you stepped around him you swung your warhammer with all your might. It connected in the rear of his breast plate and you could hear the metal crunch. The straps that held it in place were broken by the force and you could see a gap in his armour now. He had not screamed but you would be shocked if at least one rib was not broken.

To his credit he propped himself up to his feet using his weapon and was stood there ready to face you once more, beckoning you forward with a gesture…

3d6 for agility please, followed by 8d6+1 for fighting

Rolled 1, 5, 3 = 9 (3d6)

>>4332222

Rolled 6, 4, 3 = 13 (3d6)

>>4332222

Rolled 3, 1, 2 = 6 (3d6)

>>4332222

Rolled 5, 3, 5, 3, 5, 5, 6, 3 + 1 = 36 (8d6 + 1)

>>4332222

>>4332236
Welp. Merv catches another body

Rolled 6, 4, 3, 2, 3, 1, 5, 3 + 1 = 28 (8d6 + 1)

>>4332222

Rolled 6, 6, 1, 1, 2, 5, 6, 3 + 1 = 31 (8d6 + 1)

>>4332220

Hey Joe. Shouldn't Merv's shattering effect be 3? The Warhammer had a base of 2 and he gets+1 for bludgeon fighter. Or am I reading that wrong?

>>4332282
Man I'm having a rough one today, Jeez. You're absolutely right. I'll switch that.

--- Combat Round 2 ---
~ Agility ~
Ser Mervyn Reynold rolled 13
Ser Ferdinad rolled 9

Ser Mervyn rolled 30 vs Combat Defense 6
Four Degrees of Success
*Bludgeon Fighter l activated*
Plate AR reduced from 7 to 4
9 Damage x 4 = 36 Damage
36 – 7 Armour Rating = 28 Damage
*2/2 Wounds taken*
9 Health – 0 Damage = 9 Health

Ser Ferdinad rolled 17 vs Combat Defense 12
Two Degrees of Success
7 Damage x 2 = 14 Damage
4/4 Injuries taken
12 Health – 0 = 12 Health


You pressed forwards and layed into the man with a series of monstrous blows. With each successive strike you felt the man giving way. The mans breast plate and pauldrons were nearly ruined as your hammer punched through the steel now. You saw crimson on the head of your hammer as you proceeded to pummel the man to one knee and then deliver a vicious swing downwards to knock him flat on his back.

All of a sudden a sharp pain erupted in your ankle as Ser Ferdinad had swung his axe from the prone position. It was enough to bring you to a knee as he rolled away clumsily and attempted to gather himself. You were the first person to your feet however and you stalked after the man with murderous intent…

3d6 for agility
8d6 for fighting

I'll be applying the negative penalties afterwards for the injuries

Rolled 6, 3, 2 = 11 (3d6)

>>4332316

Rolled 5, 2, 6 = 13 (3d6)

>>4332316

Rolled 1, 6, 2 = 9 (3d6)

>>4332316

Rolled 2, 6, 2, 1, 6, 2, 1, 3 = 23 (8d6)

>>4332316

Rolled 3, 4, 5, 4, 3, 4, 2, 4 = 29 (8d6)

>>4332316

Rolled 1, 4, 6, 5, 1, 5, 5, 1 = 28 (8d6)

>>4332316

--- Combat Round 3 ---
~ Agility ~
Ser Mervyn Reynold rolled 9
Ser Ferdinad rolled 2

Ser Mervyn rolled 22 vs Combat Defense 6
Four Degrees of Success
*Bludgeon Fighter l activated*
Plate AR reduced from 4 to 1
9 Damage x 4 = 36 Damage
36 – 4 Armour Rating = 32 Damage
*2/2 Wounds taken*
**3/3 Injuries Taken**
32 Damage – 9 Damage = 23 Damage
9 Health – 23 Damage = -14 Health

He had risen to his knees by the time you caught up to him, although he was resting on his hands as well. His grip was still tight around his axe and when he tried to raise it to defend himself you placed the heel of your foot on the haft and he struggled against your weight. He craned upwards and looked at you and in his eyes you saw defeat. His fingers relaxed and he brought his torso up but stayed on his knees.

“Do it. Make it fast.” The words we coughed out and quiet but audible nonetheless. “Remember our bargain Ser.”

He looked down in the dirt and you raised your hammer high with both hands. Soft prayers came from the mans lips but you figured they were unlikely to be granted as you brought the weapon downwards savagely and connected with the mans helm. He fell forward into the mud and blood began to seep from the mans head even if the extent of the wounds were unseen. Turning around you raised your hammer high in both hands and the soldiers began to cheer and roar. Horns blared and pipes droned while you saw Lord Irving riding up towards you.

“Well done Ser Mervyn, well done. I trust the blows he gave you were not too telling?”

The blow to your ankle was the worst of it but you’d had far worse in your time and you shrugged it off, mounting your horse that a man had brought to you whilst Lord Irving and yourself rode towards the castle gates that now hung open to the world.

“I should think you will be well rewarded for this Ser Mervyn. You’ve saved me many of my mens lives as well as time. I may have gave my word no harm would come to the castles population, but I gave no such promise regarding it’s treasury.” A sly grin came across the mans face, one mirrored on your own as the banner of House Fell was taken down from atop the castle gate and the three castles of House Peake were raised in it’s place.


--- Break ---

I'm going to call it here as I have to prepare for some festivities for tomorrow. I'll be continuing the quest on Thursday, July 2nd, but if you have any questions or criticisms feel please feel free to voice them in the mean time and I will answer when I'm able. I'll be around for an hour or two tonight. Thank you all for playing as always and I hope you enjoyed!

>>4332501
Thanks for running Joe. Happy Canada Day

>>4332316
so quick question shouldn't we have only taken 3 damage from that hit?

>>4332509
That would have brought us to -1 health. With our endurance score of 4 it would have taken all 4 injuries to bring us back to 12 health. I'm assuming that's what Joe did.

>>4332509
Christ Above man. This is what I get for trying to run whilst I'm trying to do other stuff. Hosting parties is the worst.

We should have taken 3 damage, and to prevent Mervyn from being defeated he would have taken 1 injury.

I appreciate you keeping me honest so thank you. Thursday I'll be free to focus on the quest without distraction.

>>4332514
he didn't factor in armor at all though
so we took am injury we did not need too.

>>4332536
Still had to take one. The 3 damage (after armor reduction) would have brought us to -1 health

Why are all QMs social people with jobs and responsibilities that they have to attend to, and not NEET shut-ins like me who can dedicate all their time to the quest? >:0
Just kidding, thanks for running, Joe, see you on Thursday.

>>4332501
Thanks, Joe!

--- 22/10/282 ---

The solar at Felwood was located in the highest tower of the castle, soaring up and above even the tallest of the enormous trees that made up the ancient kingswood. It was a lavishly decorated with carpets and tapestrys depicting the histories of House Fell. Lord Irving Peake sat across a dark walnut table from you as the two of you began to dine on a meal of lamb and greens. Irving Peake had taken a liking to you from the day you had met him, and after defeating Felwood’s champion he had included you in nearly all his talks.

“I trust your injuries are healing well Ser Mervyn?”

“As well as can be expected. The maester says that they are not severe, and as you can see I walked up all those damn steps so how bad could they be?”

“That gladdens me Ser. Truly that was quite the duel between the two of you. You made it look quite easy, and although most of the garrison here are hardly fit to defend a pig sty let alone a castle, Felwood is old and strong. You saved many of my men and for that I believe you are entitled to a reward.”

“A reward?”

“Indeed Ser. I’ve seen Felwood’s vaults and although I know nothing of the young Silveraxe, it is fair to say that Old Lord Fell was a miserly man. I swore to Ser Ferdinad that no harm would come to the people of Felwood and I intend to keep that promise. I made no such promise about the castle itself. There may be a few weapons or armour in the armoury, although I feel that it’s been largely emptied when Silveraxe marched with his levies. Elsewise, Felwood keeps a rather impressive library. You might take your pick of their library if you are of a bookish nature, there is something to be said for the trope of the warrior scholar. The choice is yours Ser…”

--- Rewards for taking Felwood ---

*Note*
This is completely related to the burning of the destiny point. Also, I also realize I’ve been slacking in giving you guys experience. Like 5 threads without making a note of giving any so at 5 EXP per thread that puts Mervyn at 25.

Experience Gained: 5
Total: 30

Glory Gained: 1
Total: 6

--- Wealth Vote: Each option costs 1 Wealth, choose up to a total of 5 please ---
>Coin, pure and simple. 200 Gold Dragons
>Superior Weapons or Armour, taken from Felwood’s armoury (Limited to 1)
>Books, taken from the library, reduces the Library holding by 2 wealth (Limited to 1)

>>4335189
Im for either hte money or the books. I think we should be able to get the funds from Kings Landing though

>Books, taken from the library, reduces the Library holding by 2 wealth (Limited to 1)