War of the Five Kings [IC]

[NightNeko]

War of the Five Kings!

"The Seven Kingdoms are at war with one another... false kings destroying the country... the Usurper is dead. The Starks fight the Lannisters, the Baratheons fight each other."

-Daenerys Targaryen

Robert's heir Joffrey has taken the Iron Throne, but the revelation that he's a bastard born of incest between Queen Cersei and her twin brother, Ser Jaime Lannister, has lead both of Robert's younger brothers: Stannis and Renly Baratheon, to claim the throne for themselves. Stannis sees himself as the rightful heir by right of blood, while Renly claims the throne on the basis that he would be a better king, despite being second to Stannis in a lawful line of succession.

Both Stannis and Renly Baratheon have raised their own armies. Renly, as Lord of Storm's End, gathers the support the Stormlords as well as that of House Tyrell and their bannermen via marriage to Margaery Tyrell. Meanwhile, Stannis gathers the support of the Lords of the Narrow Sea, sworn to Dragonstone, as well as that of Melisandre of Asshai, a priestess of the Lord of Light.

In the North, Robb Stark, Lord of Winterfell, is declared the ‘King in the North’ by his lord’s bannermen, and some of the Riverlords in the wake of the execution of Eddard Stark, his father and Hand of the King to the late Robert, under false charges of treason. Robb had been in command of a host marching south to free his then imprisoned father and to relieve a Lannister attack on the Riverlands. As the King in the North, Robb has declared that the North and the Riverlands are now a sovereign kingdom no longer subject to the rule of the Iron Throne.

Robb Stark also offered an alliance to Balon Greyjoy, Lord Reaper of Pyke, offering him independence if he joined them against the forces of House Lannister. Instead, Balon has chosen to declare himself ‘King of the Iron Islands’ and hopes to conquer the North while most of its defenders were south of the Neck.

Ravens have been sent north, south, east and west to inform the Seven Kingdoms of the current happenings and relevant plans of local lords and ladies. When people look back on history, they'll say it all began with the flight of ravens...

House Crow

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House Crow of Dragongem Castle have received a fair few missives via raven: one informing them of the news in King’s Landing regarding Eddard Stark, and more importantly, one from Stannis Baratheon that has been addressed directly to Lord Crow regarding his current thoughts on the situation. The concise missive also comes with a copy of the letter sent to all of the Stormlords regarding the incestuous relationship between Cersei and Jaime Lannister: informing what he knows of it, and what he plans to do about it. It is asked, within the text of the letter, for support from all who wish to aid their liege lord in the upcoming war.

Meanwhile, out in the training yard, Ser Caldyr Stormbrook is practicing his swordsmanship with some of the Crow men. It’s a cold and rainy day, which has made the task much more arduous than usual, especially since the muddy yard has been bogged down with rainwater, making each and every step a strenuous one. Some of the observing soldiers cheer and chant as Caldyr is about to face off against one of the stronger soldiers amongst those that have gathered. The much younger soldier has a sprite of courage about him; much more than what has been displayed by the others who have tried their luck. Amongst the cheers, his name is called: “Go on, Brett! Get ‘im! He needs 'is feathers clippin'!”

Nearby, Ser Branwynn Crow and Ser Rampart Stone are using a covering of layered cloth, put up by some of the Crow men who had anticipated bad weather that day to avoid the drizzle of rain as they observe the fight. Branwynn sighs and straightens his posture, turning to his mentor. “He’s good, isn’t he?” he says, a hint of trepidation to his words. “Even in the mud, he’s quick on his feet.” There’s also a strange tone of admiration to his voice. “Bet you could beat him though, you old git.” He adds, chuckling lowly as his large fist mockingly jabs at Rampart’s left shoulder.

House Thyme

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House Thyme of Redspring is rather inundated with missives, though the more important of the pile have already been put into a separate batch ready for Lady Ermese to read through. Most notably, there is a missive from her liege lord, Hoster Tully, requesting the aid of her house in the upcoming war. Amongst the rest of the missives, there are offers of safe-harbouring for Lady Ermese from various houses located in The Riverlands. Most notably, however, is the offer from House Mallister of Seagard, who have offered to send a number of soldiers to help with the issue of safe transportation. These men are, supposedly, to meet her own transportation approximately half way as a fair-terms of agreement. She has also been informed of the bad tidings of Eddard Stark at King’s Landing.

Ser Arna Rynn is currently dealing with an affair that she has encountered just outside of the hall, where two middle-aged men seem to be pointing knives at one another; each of them demanding something from the other. One of the men has already suffered a knife-wound, but seems so adamant in demanding something of his attacker, that the pain almost seems forgotten. A cart has been turned over nearby, causing the fresh apples once within to have been scattered about the damp soil below.

Meanwhile, out in the yard, Marten Rivers has been approached by some of the soldiers in training and have asked of his opinion on the bad tidings of Eddard Stark, and what it might mean for House Thyme in the upcoming war. Some seem worried, perhaps even nervous, whilst others seem content with the fact that they might be seeing some real action sometime soon. Either way, they seem to be hedging around the fact that they’d like Marten to stay and teach them a few things. A bold, young-looking soldier with bright blonde hair steps forward: “You haven’t taught us anything in quite some time. You’ve been awfully busy with Lady Ermese…” there’s a note of sarcasm to his last sentence, as if to mock Marten for his close relationship with the young woman.

House Cantus

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House Cantus also receives a missive from Hoster Tully, their liege lord, requesting aid in the upcoming war. Among the other cluster of missives there is news of Eddard Stark, and also a few from some the more renowned merchants regarding issues they’ve been having with bandits along the Kingsroad. Many seem to have attacked and/or stolen from during their many travels recently. As the Lady of House Cantus, recognized by mercantile trades for allowing them more power, they are demanding that something be done about the situation before things get out of hand.

One of the more respected merchants makes note that the bandits are making the house seem weak and vulnerable, and if any nearby power, known or unknown, gets word that the house can’t deal with lowly bandits, then they’re going to have some big problems to deal with regarding the safety of their lands.

Ser Sorin is currently seeing to a matter of ‘urgency’. From what he’s heard, it seems like some of the guards have been attacked just outside of the hall. Upon arriving, it is quite clear that the rumors are true, as two guardsmen have been wounded and are being seen to by some of their fellow soldiers. Upon approach, one of them stands at attention: “Ser Sorin. Two travelers refused to pay their due upon passing through, and in a sudden fit of rage, lashed out at two of our guards on duty. We have them bound nearby for questioning, Ser. Your orders?”

House Blackstone

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Only a few ravens have flown to Black Roost. One notes the details of Eddard Stark's execution, but also speaks of the now deceased Jon Arryn. It offers sympathies to those who knew him. Evidently, the news is rather late, for some reason or another.

Just as Lord Blackstone is given the news of the arrival of these ravens, two guards drag an old man into the throne room - battered and bruised - and force him to kneel in front of the noble incline of steps. "Lord Blackstone," one of them calls, both of their spears at the man's back. "This man claims to have news of a traitor among our ranks. The old fool thought that the best way to get our attention was by sticking a knife in some poor man's heart."

The other cuts in, giving the beaten old man a prod with his spear. He grunts and spits at the floor. "Delusional, he is. He ain't made the least bit of sense since we restrained him. He keeps mumbling the same thing over and over again. He... he keeps saying that the Strangers have got plans of their own, or some nonsense like that."

[RylanC23]

House Crow

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House Crow of Dragongem Castle have received a fair few missives via raven: one informing them of the news in King’s Landing regarding Eddard Stark, and more importantly, one from Stannis Baratheon that has been addressed directly to Lord Crow regarding his current thoughts on the situation. The concise missive also comes with a copy of the letter sent to all of the Stormlords regarding the incestuous relationship between Cersei and Jaime Lannister: informing what he knows of it, and what he plans to do about it. It is asked, within the text of the letter, for support from all who wish to aid their liege lord in the upcoming war.

Lord Crow

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He had sat there for some time, groaning at each and every message that found his attention. War in the Riverlands. 'King' on the Throne. King of Some Barren Wasteland. King of That Bloody Flower Court. King of the Iron Rocks. King of the Narrow Sea. Two boys, an old man, a 'man' playing at war, and Stannis. Rede groaned again, and rubbed his temples, as he lent over his writing desk. He could hear the fighting in the yard, and could only smirk at their enthusiasm. Most of his men were boys - it had been too long since the last war - and he was on the side with the fewest men, by way of geography. Oh, he could easily hole up in his castle; he could bleed Stannis dry, and he expected his lord knew that... but that would get him nowhere. That would waste the wealth of opportunities that had been presented to him. Reluctantly, he laid a map upon the desk, and examined the letters again.

(I'd like to roll Warfare (Tactics) to help Rede ascertain the situation of the factions, from the information he'd have been given in those letters, if that's possible.

(7d6b5)[21])

[WolvenDante]

Ser Caldyr Stormbrook

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Caldyr takes a moment to examine his opponent, though having seen him fight before, does not spend too much time in doing so. A competitive smirk edges across his lips as he slips his shield onto his back, and dedicates both hands to his bastard sword. "Brave lad. Better than most of these cravens too, from what I've seen of you." He turns his head to the crowd and chortles, playfully mocking them all. His glance seems to miss Branwynn and Rampart, knowing all too well that they are great fighters in their own right.

The Knight of Feathers reassures the position of his feet in the soft bog below, swinging his blade gently through the whispering wind to test its weight in either hand. It's adaptable form allows quick and easy movement; a certain measure of skill, though, is needed to handle it in the way that he manages to.

With that, he cautiously advances towards the brave young soldier, hoping that he can maneuver swiftly enough to guarantee the first succession of attacks. "On your guard, lad. Keep your blade nice and straight." he advises.

Initiative (Agility) - (5d6b4)[12]
Attack (Fighting) - (9d6b5)[30]

Edit - Well, damn... I just hope I beat his initiative... hah!

[dancrilis]

Lady Alice Cantus

She reviewed the documents occasionally reaching across to scratch the ears of the shadow-cat beside her, the animal was alert and aware - it would need to burn off some energy later.
The ideal thought that if she could figure out how to train them as riding animals she would have the best cavalry in the seven kingdoms returned to her - but it was just a fantasy.

Returning to the task at hand, she made the order to use one of the criminal units to hunt down and eliminate - or recruit - the bandits (she knew the unit commanders would prefer to recruit), whatever they found at the bandit sites they could keep, baring documents. The problem was to be solved quickly and efficiently - with no impact on trade.
If they got out of hand she would direct the raiders to deal with it - the commanders would know that also.

It was a dual purpose - the unit would get some training, the merchants would be happy, stability would be maintained. And if everything went bad - than the raiders would purge the lot of them - and everyone knew that.

Finally she directed the merchants to consider there own security as she could only act after the issues arose - where with sufficient forces bandits would not trouble them. A bit of personal responsibility would be nice - she would consider reducing taxes to allow for it also if needed.

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I am assuming this is a stewardship roll.
Social: (3d6)[9]
Should have had a +2 for Head of House, for an 11.

[Revanus]

Marten gives the golden-haired boy a cold glance. His brash impudence was both unexpected and dangerous.

If they're challenging me, they don't fear me.

"Is that so, boy? How about I give you a lesson right now on respect?"

Marten draws his Braavosi blade and left-handed dagger. Something would have to be done to instill discipline. If the men were afraid, knowing they had at least one skilled fighter among them might calm their jitters.

"Step forward--front and center, boy. Guard up and make ready with your sparring sword. I have need to beat some obedience into your insolent, ****-for-brains skull."

Once the bold youth is clearly in position and well within the vantage of the rest of the crowd, Marten nods at him.

"Begin, whelp."

Combat:

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Initiative:
(4d6+4)[18]

Actions: Acrobatic Dodge (lesser) (movement is intended to enter into engaged range with the boy)
(4d6)[14]+8+4+2(dagger)+1(sword? Do I get the bonus if I haven't attacked with it when I dodge, even though I might use it later?)

Standard attack (lesser)
(6d6)[3][6][1][1][5][5](21)

Edit: I made a mistake with the combat roll--I should have only rolled 4 dice. Let's take the final two dice off, reducing the result by 10.

Also, Marten is not intending to seriously injure the boy, despite using his normal weapons. All blows should be treated as being delivered with the flat of the blade. Marten's goal is to leave the boy heavily bruised and force him to yield.

[Omegonthesane]

House Blackstone

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Only a few ravens have flown to Black Roost. One notes the details of Eddard Stark's execution, but also speaks of the now deceased Jon Arryn. It offers sympathies to those who knew him. Evidently, the news is rather late, for some reason or another.

Just as Lord Blackstone is given the news of the arrival of these ravens, two guards drag an old man into the throne room - battered and bruised - and force him to kneel in front of the noble incline of steps. "Lord Blackstone," one of them calls, both of their spears at the man's back. "This man claims to have news of a traitor among our ranks. The old fool thought that the best way to get our attention was by sticking a knife in some poor man's heart."

The other cuts in, giving the beaten old man a prod with his spear. He grunts and spits at the floor. "Delusional, he is. He ain't made the least bit of sense since we restrained him. He keeps mumbling the same thing over and over again. He... he keeps saying that the Strangers have got plans of their own, or some nonsense like that."

Eddard Blackstone

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"How long would that be, then? When was it that our... visitor... thought to grace the Roost?" the old lord requests of his oh so trustworthy and in no way at any level resentful soldiers. That some of the Order of the Weirwood were plotting against him was to be expected, but that this had been brought to his attention was worth investigating - the guild's leaders should have been in his pockets.

He took a good look at the mumbling madman, seeking any hint that this might be a performance - that, in fact, this was part of some more convoluted plan.

Awareness (Empathy) (7d6b4)[16]

[Raunchel]

Ermese

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The sickly Ermese looks at the letters that she has received. She isn't happy about this, not at all. The houses want to offer her hospitality to reduce her to a prisoner. She cannot accept such an offer. Mallister wants it the most, they must have motives for such an action, maybe they hope to take her lands for themselves?

She looks at the old map that is placed on the wall. It is almost thirty years old, and many things have changed since it was drawn, but it is the only map of the Kingdoms that she has. She knows it by heart. Hoster Tully might call for her forces, but he faces great opposition, opposition which is much closer to her, most of the strength of the Starks still has to come marching down from the North.

Mentally she draws the borders of all the kings' realms, and tries to deduce what will happen. She doesn't know any of them, but she does know people. First of all there is the North, it is strong, but far away and led by an inexperienced king. No, she cannot declare for them, but she also can't go against them. Then there are the three Baratheon kings. First of all Stannis, in Dragonstone, he is no threat to her until he has become much stronger. The second is Renly, who comes from the south, he will also go to King's Landing, so she is safe from him for now. Finally there is Joffrey, surrounded by his enemies. But he does have strong support, and more importantly, his forces are nearby. And she knows what his grandfather is capable of, her mother told her all about the Sack. She sighs and starts writing to lord Tully, informing him that she is gathering her forces, but she requires time to do so. She also writes to those who have offered her hospitality, saying that she must stay in her lands to oversee her mobilization.

Ser Arn

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[color=”magenta”]”Stop this at once! And then tell me what you are fighting about. One by one or I’ll crack your worthless skulls.”[/color], Arna says threateningly. She has other things to do than stopping another quarrel about nothing, but it’s better than dragging these fools to Ermese, who seemed a little stressed earlier today.

[Mr Stereo1]

Ser Rampart Stone

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Rampart laughs warmly, his worries about the coming war forgotten for a moment. Branwynn had always had a sense of companionable irreverence around him.

"Perhaps I could, and it may be you that could as well. Those recruits, though, they haven't a hope." Caldyr was a good fighter, individually the soldiery had poor odds against him. The only sport in fighting men as inexperienced as them was through numbers.

Studying the recruits, Rampart starts to note their weaknesses and strengths. With war on the horizon they would have to be made as ready as humanly possible before the warrior took his toll from their numbers.

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Empathy test for any pointers for the rank and file. [Roll]6d6b4+5[/Roll]

He looks to his former squire, smiling lightly. "I don't suppose you care for a spar? We can round up a few dozen of the new recruits to give them a chance against experienced knights. With enough weight of numbers they may even have a chance - more so than the poor fools matching themselves against Caldyr, at any rate."

[NightNeko]

Ser Caldyr Stormbrook (Knight of Feathers)

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The Knight of Feathers lunges forwards with a grace yet unseen of him, ignoring the dastardly off-putting of the bogged down training yard. The edge of his blade soon clashes with the young soldier’s, though the adept strength and skill put behind the blow causes sparks to fly. The soldier manages to parry the first two blows at the expensive of a sprained wrist, but is then pushed off balance by the sheer aptitude of the Knight's attacks. It only takes seconds for the Knight of Feathers to find an opening in the man's defenses. The young soldier falls flat on his backside, evidently defeated, much to the amusement of the audience, and is ultimately beaten as he realizes that the Knight's blade is at his neck before he can even open his mouth to yield.

The soldier picks himself up from the mud and sheathes his blade. "You're far too good to be training with us soldiers, Ser Caldyr. Certainly one-on-one, that’s for sure." he says, bowing his head to show some respect. "You must have gone through each and every one of us by now, and you've yet to be beaten. Granted, if we're training with the best, then one day we might have a chance to be the best... but where did you get your experience, Ser?"

Lord Rede Edwyrd Crow

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Lord Crow takes a few minutes to look over his map, and attempts to calculate some form of strategic placement in his head. While it is almost impossible to assess the individual plans of each kingdom from mere missives, Lord Crow is able to come up with some of the major possibilities and likelihoods of each faction based off general knowledge alone.

He comes to the conclusion that the Starks, now serving the King in the North, are likely to gather as much allegiance as possible in order to have any chance in fending off the Lannister armies, respectively overseen by Tywin Lannister: a renowned master of strategic warfare. As the King in the North, Robb has declared that the North and the Riverlands are now a sovereign kingdom no longer subject to the rule of the Iron Throne. The main force of the Starks is yet to come south of the neck.

The Lannisters and their respective allies are likely to press on with efficient and deadly force to thwart the plans of the King in the North. With a multitude of possibilities upon the horizon, and with Tywin Lannister behind most of the strategic decisions, it makes it remarkably difficult to assess the situation.

The situation back at home regarding Stannis and Renly Baratheon is an obvious one to assess. Renly, whilst powerful, is claiming something that is not rightly his, and is thus provoking the wrath of his brother Stannis: who is, by right of blood, the next in line for the Iron Throne. It is obvious that Stannis will do anything in his power to try and take back what is rightly his. And after calling on the aid of House Crow (and most of the other Stormlords), Lord Crow can only imagine that a full-scale war will soon ensue between the King of the Narrow Sea and The 'King' of the Iron Throne.

The missives provide very little detail, and is thus, making it extremely difficult to probe any more information from them: no matter the strategic mind behind the thinking. Lord Crow then hears a volley of cheers and laughter from the training yard outside, and from his window, can see that Ser Caldyr Stormbrook, the Knight of Feathers, has once again become victorious in his endeavors.

Ser Rampart Stone and Ser Branwynn Crow

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Ser Rampart Stone examines the fight between the Knight of Feathers and the fierce young soldier closely. His keen eyes watch each and every movement placed, from the steady footing of the knight, to the reluctance of the soldier. It seems, when fighting one-on-one with a knight as fearsome as Ser Caldyr, they seem much more defensive and reluctant to strike.

Though surely, their combative abilities as a whole could do with some improvement, the most notable feature of weakness in the troops is the inadequate use of their feet, and their lack of courage against a clearly greater opponent. Whilst, yes, the terrain is not in a suitable condition for standard training, it is obvious that it is not their swordsmanship abilities that's the issue. Merely the mindset of the troops that needs some form of reinforcement.

Branwynn watches as the Knight of Feathers looks around for another opponent. When his eyes met the knight's, he shied away with a turn of his head: fearing him in a strange way that relates the knight to the head of house, Lord Crow. Thankfully, he catches the gaze of his mentor and replies almost instantly to the request. "Yes, I think that would be best." he smirks, nodding his head. "That sounds like quite a challenge, to me. Just the type of challenge I enjoy! Perhaps you should reassure the men that we three knights are still merely men. Numbers together are better than numbers alone."

Lady Alice Cantus

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After reviewing the scenario that has arisen with the local merchants, Lady Alice replies to each of them in turn with the request of issuing some means of protection by their own coin. Afterwards, she makes the decision to send out some troops to try and deal with the banditry problem. A fair decision, by standards of most mercantile towns. Though it will take a fair amount of time to hunt and track the foremost of them down, if their numbers are larger than expected. And of course, if they're spread diversely across their lands.

There's a few knocks at the door. A sturdy, heavy two knocks that ring clearly throughout the room. "Lady Cantus," a gruff voice calls. A tall, broad-shouldered man with dark auburn hair steps into the room with two guards stood vigilantly behind him: ever cautious. "Some of the guards have been attacked just outside of our Hall. We have Ser Sorin dealing with the situation, but the Captain insists that your name was mentioned in the outbreak of violence. Shall I send word of your potential interference, or is Ser Sorin trusted to deal with the situation?"

Marten Rivers

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Marten, in his brash and broken composure, initiates a bout of combat between him and the suggestive soldier. It seems he has the upper hand, having taken the young soldier by surprise, who is quite clearly reluctant in fighting back. Nevertheless, the soldier, as brave as he is, raises his guard and prepares for the worst; not even beginning to hope that some form of luck will be on his side.

Marten steps forward and manages to whack the kid right upon his shoulder blades using the flat of his blade. The kid stumbles backwards, taken back by the man’s speed. “Aw’right, aw’right! It was just a joke!” he pleads, yielding to Marten already.

Lady Ermese

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Lady Ermese sends off the missive regarding her current wishes to amass her numbers to Hoster Tully. And to those who offered her hospitality, replies that in order to oversee the mobilization in her lands, that she must remain there.

The Lady, after addressing the issues that have been sent to her, is about to fixate her mind upon something less dreary, when, rather loudly, there comes a tapping at her chamber door. A strange yelp seems to follow, as somebody outside clearly bumps into the iron reinforcement from the outside. "Almost got it!" the voice is child-like and very much innocent; clearly male. "Wait... where did it go?"

Lord Eddard Blackstone

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"I saw 'em runnin' like cats through shadows!" the old man bursts out, before any of the guards can reply. "Cloaked, Stranger types out by the river while I was out working the fields, m'lord. They... they were talkin' about lots'a stuff. B-but then they went on to talkin' about their plans. My boy was out playin' by the old willow, and they stabbed 'im clear as day, right in 'is shoulder before they made a run for it! B-but nobody would listen to me. Everybody's too scared to babble on 'em! Me boy 'eard everythin' they were sayin', but he's still out for it back at the farm. Couldn’t get much out of ‘im before he passed out. It’s bloody nonsense, I tell you! What kind of people you got runnin’ about this place, eh? Stabbin’ their own kind in broad daylight. Ain’t they supposed to be smarter than that, m’lord?"

The old man looks dead-center at Lord Blackstone's eyes. Everything he's saying seems to be completely and utterly truthful. "He 'eard 'em talkin' though, he did. They was plottin' to start some revolution, or some such, m'lord!" The guards turn their gaze to Lord Blackstone, as if to await an answer from him, as they too seem to believe that the man is telling the truth; however over exaggerated it might seem.

[Revanus]

Marten issues the boy a stony glare.

"I have seen men executed for less, boy. You do not joke with commanders."

Marten sheathes his sword and dagger.

"Go hang up your arms and armor. You'll be spending the rest of the day mucking out the stables."

Marten then turns to the rest of the soldiers.

"Form ranks. Now!"

Once the soldiers are suitably arrayed, Marten continues.

"Let me make this clear. The battlefield is not a funny place. It is a place of death and chaos. The only thing that will keep you alive in war is steady discipline and respect and obedience to your commanders. Discipline and obedience are the only things that will keep an enemy from taking your lives and putting your families to the sword. Remember this."

Finished with his impromptu speech, Marten observes the soldiers to determine its impact.

Awareness:

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(3d6)[3][6][1](10)+4

[dancrilis]

Lady Alice Cantus

Looking at the man she stood "Ser Sorin is trusted to handle it" she wanted to make that clear first "however I will attend in the event that it actually requires my attention",

She was not wearing traditional ladies garb but instead clan in padded armour - the difference between life and death could be preparedness, and frankly she found it more comfortable - much to the annoyance of some her ladies, if they really deserved that title - none were true nobility.
She took her dagger with her but left the crossbow.

Sure she had some noble attire when needed - two sets in fact, but it had not been worn in some time, there had not been cause.

The shadowcat moved with her silently but alert, and she could hear the dogs also - she would have to start training the puppies shortly.

"Lead on" she stated.

[Star_In_a_Sky]

Ser Soren

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Soren's clean-shaven face tightened with dissatisfaction. Violence danced on the Lady of the House's doorstep, and at a matter trivial in any other land. Turning from the man-at-arms he addressed the impromptu assembly. “Help the two that upheld the Lady's law elsewhere and see their injuries attended. Report back to me after.” His sapphire eyes shone a grim kind of approval as he considered the wounded pair. “You both did well, and deserve no less than the rest of the day to recover. Elsewise, at least two hale men should stand guard before the Hall, and another will bring me to our guests. I would meet the vagabonds that think themselves too regal to be fined.”

[Omegonthesane]

Lord Eddard Blackstone

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"I saw 'em runnin' like cats through shadows!" the old man bursts out, before any of the guards can reply. "Cloaked, Stranger types out by the river while I was out working the fields, m'lord. They... they were talkin' about lots'a stuff. B-but then they went on to talkin' about their plans. My boy was out playin' by the old willow, and they stabbed 'im clear as day, right in 'is shoulder before they made a run for it! B-but nobody would listen to me. Everybody's too scared to babble on 'em! Me boy 'eard everythin' they were sayin', but he's still out for it back at the farm. Couldn’t get much out of ‘im before he passed out. It’s bloody nonsense, I tell you! What kind of people you got runnin’ about this place, eh? Stabbin’ their own kind in broad daylight. Ain’t they supposed to be smarter than that, m’lord?"

The old man looks dead-center at Lord Blackstone's eyes. Everything he's saying seems to be completely and utterly truthful. "He 'eard 'em talkin' though, he did. They was plottin' to start some revolution, or some such, m'lord!" The guards turn their gaze to Lord Blackstone, as if to await an answer from him, as they too seem to believe that the man is telling the truth; however over exaggerated it might seem.

Eddard Blackstone

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"...I ought to chastise you for speaking out of turn, and questioning my leadership," Eddard says, levelling his gaze on the old man, "but you're obviously distressed. Be glad that there are no true strangers here." Indeed, there was no one here who had forgotten the burning of the Sept, who might mistake Eddard's mercy for weakness. "Take this man to the guest rooms, see that he remains comfortable there for now." The cells meant for noble hostages were as well furnished as many actual guest rooms, and in theory were to serve as overflow bedrooms in the event of a sufficiently large event, so the euphemism wasn't even a lie. Of course, he'd hang the man as a murderer once this was over, but for now any lead to this latest treason was handy. Someone was up to something, or the late Jon Arryn would have reported rather sooner. "Find his son, as well, and bring him to the Black Roost, for questioning and for the attention of Maester Jeor." Of course, Eddard had spent long enough in the Citadel that he could justifiably claim to assist the maester in this endeavour, while taking the opportunity to see that no harm was done.

[RylanC23]

Lord Rede Edwyrd Crow

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Lord Crow takes a few minutes to look over his map, and attempts to calculate some form of strategic placement in his head. While it is almost impossible to assess the individual plans of each kingdom from mere missives, Lord Crow is able to come up with some of the major possibilities and likelihoods of each faction based off general knowledge alone.

He comes to the conclusion that the Starks, now serving the King in the North, are likely to gather as much allegiance as possible in order to have any chance in fending off the Lannister armies, respectively overseen by Tywin Lannister: a renowned master of strategic warfare. As the King in the North, Robb has declared that the North and the Riverlands are now a sovereign kingdom no longer subject to the rule of the Iron Throne. The main force of the Starks is yet to come south of the neck.

The Lannisters and their respective allies are likely to press on with efficient and deadly force to thwart the plans of the King in the North. With a multitude of possibilities upon the horizon, and with Tywin Lannister behind most of the strategic decisions, it makes it remarkably difficult to assess the situation.

The situation back at home regarding Stannis and Renly Baratheon is an obvious one to assess. Renly, whilst powerful, is claiming something that is not rightly his, and is thus provoking the wrath of his brother Stannis: who is, by right of blood, the next in line for the Iron Throne. It is obvious that Stannis will do anything in his power to try and take back what is rightly his. And after calling on the aid of House Crow (and most of the other Stormlords), Lord Crow can only imagine that a full-scale war will soon ensue between the King of the Narrow Sea and The 'King' of the Iron Throne.

The missives provide very little detail, and is thus, making it extremely difficult to probe any more information from them: no matter the strategic mind behind the thinking. Lord Crow then hears a volley of cheers and laughter from the training yard outside, and from his window, can see that Ser Caldyr Stormbrook, the Knight of Feathers, has once again become victorious in his endeavors.

Lord Crow

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Stannis and death it was, then. Death in itself held so many opportunities, and some of them were forming in the crow lord's mind now, causing a thin grin to creep across his lips. He wrote out his reply to Stannis there and then, that he would make the preparations immediately, and would set sail tomorrow. That should thrust the reality of the situation into every mind who wouldn't have to be sending them to their deaths; a necessary sacrifice, that he would make many a time without regret or remorse, but an unwelcome one nonetheless. Rising, he strode to the window, and looked down upon the training yard with a cocktail of fear and respect. He had surrounded himself with some of the best warriors he knew, and while one feared him, and another served him, he still doubted that they would appreciate the actions he would have to take in the coming weeks and days, regardless of if it saved their lives or not.

When he descended from his tower room, to the yard, he was dressed in a black doublet, with garnet buttons culminating in a crow of jet at the top. His trousers and boots were both black leather, and on his belt was his sword and dagger. There he stood, holding a letter in his right hand, at the edge of the ring, until he spotted a lull in the action, at which point he stepped forward into the ring.

"Sers, men, soldiers! War is upon us. Four pretenders and one king. King Stannis Baratheon, first of his name, has summoned us to Dragonstone, and we will answer. I want preparations to begin immediately; we set sail tomorrow. Ser Caldyr Stormbrook, Ser Rampart Stone, Ser Branwynn Crow and Arren Cousland will captain the Broken Blade, Seeking Salvation, Serenity and the Black Wyrm, respectively, while I will take charge of the Hush.

"The Knight of Feathers will oversee this mobilisation, with Rampart as his deputy. After you're done here, say your goodbyes, do what you must, but then prepare your hearts and prepare your blades. Stormbrook, with me. Stone, I'm sure you can manage without him for now. Brother, make a circuit of the castle, informing anyone else you see, and instruct them to do the same,"

And with that, he turned, and started off again, back to his office, not waiting to see the reactions of the others.

[Raunchel]

Ermese

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Ermese is annoyed when she hears the noise. She hates being disturbed. She slowly stands up, slightly swaying. She feels cold despite the summer sun shining through the small window. She walks towards the door, someone will get punished for this. She looks forwards to it. She puts on her usual stern face and opens the door.

[Mr Stereo1]

Ser Rampart Stone

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Rampart smiles, enjoying his old squire's good humour. For so long combat had been a grim duty to him, but today he could see the sport in a good spar. It would do the lads good to see the likes of Branwynn and Caldyr bested, to get a feel for the teamwork they'd need against any enemy champions.

Alas, it was never to be. Rampart's lightened mood turns dark once more when Lord Crow delivers his announcement. The order to march was long anticipated, but now the lead weight settles in the old knight's stomach. There was no one else he'd rather be led into battle by than Stannis Baratheon, but the Ironmen aside there was no other army he would less wish to join in the coming war. Dragonstone, even with House Crow and the mercenaries Stannis had been mustering, had barely as many men at arms as a senior banner man of the realms. Against the fully mustered forces of a Lord Paramount they were dwarfed.

Yet he trusts Lord Crow's pragmatism. Whatever the man was, he had a keen sense of survival, and as long as Rampart remained loyal his kin would be provided for.

Behind Rampart and Branwynn, their squires make themselves known. "So we're going for Stannis, then." Lance states quietly, hesitant. He understands the odds Lord Crow has just set them against.

"About time. He's the rightful king, isn't he?" Sandor states, challenging. He knows, and does not understand - or perhaps he does not care.

"Go see to our personal effects, lads. Make sure our armour and equipment is packed up and delivered to the ships. Yours too. Then, go make your farewells." It would be hard on Cattelya. Her father, husband and son all away to war. Rampart has been dreading that for long weeks, spending what time he could with her and his grandchildren. It doesn't make the urgency of their situation any less. He still wants to spend these moments with her, but he can't. He has duties.

"I'll see that the men have everything readied."

Branwynn only nods, caught up in his own world. His brother always left him unsettled. Rampart cannot wait for his thoughts to order themselves. He is already shouting out orders and grouping the men into teams. They had a great deal to do and little time to do it. Anything they missed would be a man's death.

He has no time for reflection.