The Dragon Kings - A Game of Thrones Mod
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He has to, what other choice does he have? If the Starks or Baratheons cross Rhaegar again, they will burn.
So after Chapter VII very little happened over the next four years, so I've decided to write a little interlude to make sense of the jump forward in time. It'll cover the very minor things that happened in the four year period and will show any significant changes to the lords of Westeros. Should be done writing it soon. 
INTERLUDE I - 290 AL
The execution of Matthos Gaunt in January in the year 287 after Aegon's Landing was meant to send a clear message to the lords of Westeros: Cross the King and face his wrath. Rhaegar had grown tired of rebellion. It had marred the first six years of his reign over the Seven Kingdoms and he would not have it mar any more. The message seemed to get across to the lords, who apart from some minor in-fighting between lords and high lords, remained peaceful for four years. The only conflicts of note involved Tarysa Waynood pressing a claim on the Vale against her sister Lady Irya and Walder Frey raising his banners against the 'tyranny' of Hoster Tully.
November 287 AL - Rodrick Greyjoy, lord of the Iron Islands, died under suspicious circumstances, being replaced by his brother Maron.
December 287 AL - Lord Adrian of Claw Isle died with no heirs, passing the title to King Rhaegar. The king rewarded the title to his friend, Captain, now Lord, Cyricist.
May 288 AL - Due to ongoing conflicts with the Freys, Hoster Tully abdicated in favor of his son Edmure. Brynden, hoping the title might be granted to him, was unhappy and sought out Rhaegar to join his court. Rhaegar named him his new Master-at-arms.
January 289 AL - Even after being named High Lord of Cracklaw Point by King Rhaegar, Lord Simon Stonton was convicted of trying to fabricate a claim on North Cracklaw point and was sent to the Night's Watch.
February 289 AL - A daughter, Visenya, was born to Rhaegar and Cersei.
August 289 AL - Princess Rhaenys is betrothed to Lord Renly Baratheon, Prince Aegon is betrothed to Lady Margaery Tyrell and Prince Viserys is betrothed to Princess Arianne Martell.
August 290 AL - Hand of the King Tywin Lannister and Queen Cersei both die of gonorrhea.
September 290 AL - A new Small Council is established by the king.
October 290 AL - Rhaegar finds a book regarding stories and legends from Old Valyria.
_______________________________________________
With the numerous conflicts and deaths over the last eight years, there was a shake up to the status of the Seven Kingdoms. Many lord and ladyships changed hands and even some of the High Lords and Lords Paramount were unseated. As of the first day of the year 291 after Aegon's Landing, these are the Lord and Lady Paramounts of the Seven Kingdoms, and their heirs:
Robb Stark succeeded his father as Lord Paramount of the North after his death in 286 AL. His heir is his brother, Rickon Stark. Not much going on here.
Irya Waynwood is still Lady Paramount of the Vale, but her rule has been threatened for years by her siblings. Her heir is her son, Jon Arryn.
Edmure Tully is now Lord Paramount of the Riverlands after his father's abdication. Other lords and other Tullys are not happy about this. His heir is his nephew, Robb Stark.
Maron Greyjoy is Lord Paramount of the Iron Islands after his brother's mysterious death. He may have had a hand in it and is one to look out for. His heir is his son, Aggard Greyjoy.
Tyrion Lannister succeeded his father as Lord Paramount of the Westerlands after his death. His heir is King Rhaegar's second son, Maegor, his first-born to Cersei Lannister.
Mace Tyrell is still Lord Paramount of the Reach and doesn't do a whole lot of anything, apart from produce way too many kids, (he has seven as of writing this). His eldest son Willas Tyrell is his heir.
Renly Baratheon succeeded his elder brother Stannis and has ruled for five years. As the last surviving Baratheon in Westeros, his heir is King Rhaegar himself.
Doran Martell is the Prince of Dorne, as he has been since before Robert's Rebellion. With his eldest daughter Arianne betrothed to Viserys Targaryen, his second child Loreza is his heir.
The execution of Matthos Gaunt in January in the year 287 after Aegon's Landing was meant to send a clear message to the lords of Westeros: Cross the King and face his wrath. Rhaegar had grown tired of rebellion. It had marred the first six years of his reign over the Seven Kingdoms and he would not have it mar any more. The message seemed to get across to the lords, who apart from some minor in-fighting between lords and high lords, remained peaceful for four years. The only conflicts of note involved Tarysa Waynood pressing a claim on the Vale against her sister Lady Irya and Walder Frey raising his banners against the 'tyranny' of Hoster Tully.
November 287 AL - Rodrick Greyjoy, lord of the Iron Islands, died under suspicious circumstances, being replaced by his brother Maron.
December 287 AL - Lord Adrian of Claw Isle died with no heirs, passing the title to King Rhaegar. The king rewarded the title to his friend, Captain, now Lord, Cyricist.
May 288 AL - Due to ongoing conflicts with the Freys, Hoster Tully abdicated in favor of his son Edmure. Brynden, hoping the title might be granted to him, was unhappy and sought out Rhaegar to join his court. Rhaegar named him his new Master-at-arms.
January 289 AL - Even after being named High Lord of Cracklaw Point by King Rhaegar, Lord Simon Stonton was convicted of trying to fabricate a claim on North Cracklaw point and was sent to the Night's Watch.
February 289 AL - A daughter, Visenya, was born to Rhaegar and Cersei.
August 289 AL - Princess Rhaenys is betrothed to Lord Renly Baratheon, Prince Aegon is betrothed to Lady Margaery Tyrell and Prince Viserys is betrothed to Princess Arianne Martell.
August 290 AL - Hand of the King Tywin Lannister and Queen Cersei both die of gonorrhea.
September 290 AL - A new Small Council is established by the king.
October 290 AL - Rhaegar finds a book regarding stories and legends from Old Valyria.
_______________________________________________
With the numerous conflicts and deaths over the last eight years, there was a shake up to the status of the Seven Kingdoms. Many lord and ladyships changed hands and even some of the High Lords and Lords Paramount were unseated. As of the first day of the year 291 after Aegon's Landing, these are the Lord and Lady Paramounts of the Seven Kingdoms, and their heirs:
Small Note: Because I only thought to do this interlude after I'd already played a bit further along, these screenshots are a few years in the future. If you're interested in their ages as of this interlude, just subtract roughly three years from the screenshots. Marriages and traits may also vary slightly, but nothing too huge.
Irya Waynwood is still Lady Paramount of the Vale, but her rule has been threatened for years by her siblings. Her heir is her son, Jon Arryn.
Edmure Tully is now Lord Paramount of the Riverlands after his father's abdication. Other lords and other Tullys are not happy about this. His heir is his nephew, Robb Stark.
Maron Greyjoy is Lord Paramount of the Iron Islands after his brother's mysterious death. He may have had a hand in it and is one to look out for. His heir is his son, Aggard Greyjoy.
Tyrion Lannister succeeded his father as Lord Paramount of the Westerlands after his death. His heir is King Rhaegar's second son, Maegor, his first-born to Cersei Lannister.
Mace Tyrell is still Lord Paramount of the Reach and doesn't do a whole lot of anything, apart from produce way too many kids, (he has seven as of writing this). His eldest son Willas Tyrell is his heir.
Renly Baratheon succeeded his elder brother Stannis and has ruled for five years. As the last surviving Baratheon in Westeros, his heir is King Rhaegar himself.
Doran Martell is the Prince of Dorne, as he has been since before Robert's Rebellion. With his eldest daughter Arianne betrothed to Viserys Targaryen, his second child Loreza is his heir.
though it would be a boost for the King, I hope the old families survive, it so boring if not
I didn't play GoT mod that much, but the event chain for valyrian sword looked a bit odd. Not very GoT-esque.
That is entirely dependent on whether or not they will submit to Targaryen rule.
I didn't play GoT mod that much, but the event chain for valyrian sword looked a bit odd. Not very GoT-esque.
It is very odd, but it is understandably so. It is one of the few things entirely made from scratch, so I can't blame them for it seeming a little off. Fighting Captain Spack Jarrow and completing a Skyrim puzzle are a bit weird, I'll admit.
CHAPTER VIII - A FLAME IS KINDLED
After finding the book from Old Valyria in the library of the Red Keep, Rhaegar spent many months studying and learning about the history and lore surrounding the dragons. The lords of the Valyrian houses had discovered dragons over five thousand years ago and quickly learned to tame the great beasts. For the next two millennia, a bond grew between the dragons and their masters, so that by the time of Aegon's conquest, the nobility from Valyria were said to contain the blood of dragons within them. Aegon the Conqueror brought three dragons to Westeros, allowing him to dominate all but the Dornish in his war of Conquest. His sister wives Visenya and Rhaenys rode Vhagar and Meraxes into battle, but the Conqueror rode another. Balerion the Black Dread was the largest of the three dragons and a true sight to behold. His wingspan would cast a shadow over entire towns as he flew overhead, his jaws large enough to swallow a mammoth whole. The armies of Aegon Targaryen no doubt played their part in the conquest, but it was the dragons that won the war.
Over the coming months Rhaegar's fascination with the beasts grew more intense. Every moment that was not spent ruling was spent deep in study of the great winged monsters of old. Not only did Rhaegar become entranced by the dragons, but also by the product of their malice. The king came to love the flames, basking in their warmth whenever possible and sat in awe at the destructive power of the substance. Fire was unique in many ways. A blade could be used to kill men or carve meat. Water to drink or to make plants grow strong. But fire had only a single purpose: to burn. Fire consumed everyone and everything in its path and dragonfire was no different. Harrenhall and Summerhall were both reminders to the people of Westeros that the sheer power of dragonfire could not be fought with swords and shields, nor could it be hid from behind rock and stone. In the end, dragonfire consumed all as it had begun to consume the thoughts of the king.
The king continued to spend every waking moment delving into the old Valyrian tales of fire and blood, before one day more pressing concerns arose. News reached King's Landing that slavers from Tyrosh had entered the Stormlands and taken many of the peasants of Estermont as slaves. Tyrosh lied east of the Stepstones and was once the point of connection between Westeros and Essos, before the Children had the Arm of Dorne shattered thousands of years earlier. Now, one of the Free Cities of Essos, Tyrosh thrived off of the slaver's market, as most old Valyrian freeholds did. The king was not a man who would so easily turn his back on his people and ordered his forces to muster and prepare for war. The Seven Kingdoms would crush the Tyroshi forces and put an end to their abhorred practice of slavery.
With the declaration of war sent to the masters of Tyrosh, King Rhaegar prepared his forces for war.
"Ser Gerold, you will remain behind in King's Landing while I will lead the assault on Tyrosh." Came the king's orders. Lord Commander Gerold seemed confused by the king's words.
"But your grace, I am Kingsguard, I belong by your side. There are no enemies to protect you from here your grace." Came the old knight's reply.
"I believe there will be Lord Commander", said Rhaegar. "The Tyroshi are crafty, they will no doubt send an army here, as we will send one to them. They cannot be allowed to land on our shores and march on the capital. Assemble an army and keep the capital safe Lord Commander, I will deal with Tyrosh."
With that, the aging Lord Commander took his leave and began preparations of his own.
"Prince Doran", the king beckoned to the middle-aged man lurking in the corner of the hall. He approached the king.
"Your Grace?"
"Lord Commander Gerold will see to it that any Tyroshi army that lands North of the capital is dealt with. I need you to ensure the same can be said for the South. Assemble a force and wait for further commands. Should you be needed in the capital or in the east, you must be prepared to rally to our aid at once."
"As you will, your grace", the soft-spoken Price of Dorne said, bowing as he too took his leave.
"Ser Arthur", came the king's call one final time. "Call the banners."
King Rhaegar's foresight proved invaluable in the early stages of the war. A large Tyroshi force landed at Cracklaw Point, a few counties away from the capital. Lord Commander Gerold Hightower rode out to meet the enemy at Strongcliff with an equally-sized force. The reports told of a long and gruesome battle that nearly turned sour for the defenders. The Lord Commander's forces would have been overrun but for the timely intervention of Lord Tytos and the twenty thousand Riverlanders at his back. The Tyroshi were soon outnumbered three-to-one and their slave soldiers had no desire to die in a foreign land. They quickly routed and made for their ships, fleeing for Tyrosh or one of the other free cities, it was not known. What was known was that the force that had been crushed at Strongcliff was the vast majority of the Tyroshi armed forces and will little more than a garrison to protect the city, King Rhaegar's siege would end before it hardly had a chance to begin.
Prince Doran's force, who had been given to Ser Arthur Dayne of the Kingsguard to command, landed on the mainland of Tyrosh and marched on the south-eastern border of the city. With news of the reinforcing army approaching, Rhaegar ordered an assault on the city's walls. Once more, the slave soldiers threw down their arms and the few who remained at their posts were dispatched with ease. Rhaegar entered the grand halls of Tyrosh, where the ruling council had gathered. Then and there, Rhaegar and the Tyroshi lords signed the treaty to end slavery in Tyrosh, implementing instead a policy of indentured servitude. While not quite the abolishment he had hoped for, the king understood that a city could not survive if its foundations where ripped from beneath it and thus allowed the new law to pass. It is a step in the right direction at least, the king thought to himself.
With the war one and Tyrosh defeated, Rhaegar and his forces remained behind in Tyrosh for a while. For most of the men, it was the first glimpse of Essos they had ever had and many sought comforts in the taverns, brothels and markets of the great city. Rhaegar, while not tempted by wine and woman, perused the market stalls in search of any number of artifacts, heirlooms and trinkets from the Valyrian freeholds. Stall after stall the king passed, finding little more than tapestries and goblets sewn and etched with the sigil and words of many old Valyrian families that existed before the doom. Finding little of value to him, the King turned and made for his chambers, but not before being stopped by a final merchant.
"Good ser", the foreign man said in the common tongue, "why do you stop before you have even reached my stalls?"
"Your city has nothing to offer me, my friend", replied the king, impressed by the man's demeanor as a salesman, but too weary of his unsuccessful day to be bothered any longer.
"That is where you are wrong", refuted the merchant. "I am no common goods-peddler from Braavos or Lys. I have seen many years in the free cities. I have seen the remnants of old Valyria before my very eyes. I know a dragonlord when I see one... Your grace."
He knows who I am, thought the king. The previous merchants had simply placed Rhaegar as any other highborn lord from one of the many free cities. Few, if any, recognized him as the King of Westeros and if there were those who did they made no mention of it. Perhaps he does have something to offer me.
"I'm listening", said Rhaegar, awaiting the merchant's reply.
"I know who you are, great king. As I have already said I know a dragonlord when I see one. But." The man paused. Rhaegar's eyes widened as if to broach the words from the man's lips.
"What is a dragonlord without a dragon?" Came the reply, followed by a sly grin. He reached beneath his stall and fiddled for a while with something. Only when he arose again did Rhaegar realize what he held was of the utmost value. The elliptical shape was unmistakable. The markings were undeniable. The object would pass as an ornate stone to most, but Rhaegar's study had taught him otherwise. It was a dragon egg.
"How much?" The king asked, knowing that his sway as a king would not be enough to obtain such a treasure for free in these parts.
"thirty thousand gold dragons for... Half of a real one", the merchant japed.
"I am in no mood for jokes, ser", Rhaegar replied, before throwing down a sizeable purse on the table. "There is one hundred dragons in that pouch. Come collect the other one ninety nine thousand and nine hundred from the great hall at sunset".
With the offer on the table, the merchant sat dumbstruck. One hundred thousand gold dragons for a stone was more money than the humble merchant could ever dream of, but Rhaegar could not let the opportunity pass by. Should a dragon be hatched from the egg, one hundred thousand dragons would be the last thing on the king's mind. At sunset, as arranged, the giddy merchant arrived at the great hall to be greeted by four small chests of gold. He handed over the sand-colored treasure and loaded the chests into his kart before hurrying down the street, no doubt to purchase a palace or drown himself in women and wine. Rhaegar held the egg in his hand, caressing the scaled ridges of the rounding stone. His long hours of study had at last proven fruitful. Blackfyre sat upon his belt and a dragon egg sat upon the palm of his hand. He whispered to himself quietly, as he examined the egg once more.
"Fire and Blood".
After finding the book from Old Valyria in the library of the Red Keep, Rhaegar spent many months studying and learning about the history and lore surrounding the dragons. The lords of the Valyrian houses had discovered dragons over five thousand years ago and quickly learned to tame the great beasts. For the next two millennia, a bond grew between the dragons and their masters, so that by the time of Aegon's conquest, the nobility from Valyria were said to contain the blood of dragons within them. Aegon the Conqueror brought three dragons to Westeros, allowing him to dominate all but the Dornish in his war of Conquest. His sister wives Visenya and Rhaenys rode Vhagar and Meraxes into battle, but the Conqueror rode another. Balerion the Black Dread was the largest of the three dragons and a true sight to behold. His wingspan would cast a shadow over entire towns as he flew overhead, his jaws large enough to swallow a mammoth whole. The armies of Aegon Targaryen no doubt played their part in the conquest, but it was the dragons that won the war.
Over the coming months Rhaegar's fascination with the beasts grew more intense. Every moment that was not spent ruling was spent deep in study of the great winged monsters of old. Not only did Rhaegar become entranced by the dragons, but also by the product of their malice. The king came to love the flames, basking in their warmth whenever possible and sat in awe at the destructive power of the substance. Fire was unique in many ways. A blade could be used to kill men or carve meat. Water to drink or to make plants grow strong. But fire had only a single purpose: to burn. Fire consumed everyone and everything in its path and dragonfire was no different. Harrenhall and Summerhall were both reminders to the people of Westeros that the sheer power of dragonfire could not be fought with swords and shields, nor could it be hid from behind rock and stone. In the end, dragonfire consumed all as it had begun to consume the thoughts of the king.
The king continued to spend every waking moment delving into the old Valyrian tales of fire and blood, before one day more pressing concerns arose. News reached King's Landing that slavers from Tyrosh had entered the Stormlands and taken many of the peasants of Estermont as slaves. Tyrosh lied east of the Stepstones and was once the point of connection between Westeros and Essos, before the Children had the Arm of Dorne shattered thousands of years earlier. Now, one of the Free Cities of Essos, Tyrosh thrived off of the slaver's market, as most old Valyrian freeholds did. The king was not a man who would so easily turn his back on his people and ordered his forces to muster and prepare for war. The Seven Kingdoms would crush the Tyroshi forces and put an end to their abhorred practice of slavery.
With the declaration of war sent to the masters of Tyrosh, King Rhaegar prepared his forces for war.
"Ser Gerold, you will remain behind in King's Landing while I will lead the assault on Tyrosh." Came the king's orders. Lord Commander Gerold seemed confused by the king's words.
"But your grace, I am Kingsguard, I belong by your side. There are no enemies to protect you from here your grace." Came the old knight's reply.
"I believe there will be Lord Commander", said Rhaegar. "The Tyroshi are crafty, they will no doubt send an army here, as we will send one to them. They cannot be allowed to land on our shores and march on the capital. Assemble an army and keep the capital safe Lord Commander, I will deal with Tyrosh."
With that, the aging Lord Commander took his leave and began preparations of his own.
"Prince Doran", the king beckoned to the middle-aged man lurking in the corner of the hall. He approached the king.
"Your Grace?"
"Lord Commander Gerold will see to it that any Tyroshi army that lands North of the capital is dealt with. I need you to ensure the same can be said for the South. Assemble a force and wait for further commands. Should you be needed in the capital or in the east, you must be prepared to rally to our aid at once."
"As you will, your grace", the soft-spoken Price of Dorne said, bowing as he too took his leave.
"Ser Arthur", came the king's call one final time. "Call the banners."
King Rhaegar's foresight proved invaluable in the early stages of the war. A large Tyroshi force landed at Cracklaw Point, a few counties away from the capital. Lord Commander Gerold Hightower rode out to meet the enemy at Strongcliff with an equally-sized force. The reports told of a long and gruesome battle that nearly turned sour for the defenders. The Lord Commander's forces would have been overrun but for the timely intervention of Lord Tytos and the twenty thousand Riverlanders at his back. The Tyroshi were soon outnumbered three-to-one and their slave soldiers had no desire to die in a foreign land. They quickly routed and made for their ships, fleeing for Tyrosh or one of the other free cities, it was not known. What was known was that the force that had been crushed at Strongcliff was the vast majority of the Tyroshi armed forces and will little more than a garrison to protect the city, King Rhaegar's siege would end before it hardly had a chance to begin.
Prince Doran's force, who had been given to Ser Arthur Dayne of the Kingsguard to command, landed on the mainland of Tyrosh and marched on the south-eastern border of the city. With news of the reinforcing army approaching, Rhaegar ordered an assault on the city's walls. Once more, the slave soldiers threw down their arms and the few who remained at their posts were dispatched with ease. Rhaegar entered the grand halls of Tyrosh, where the ruling council had gathered. Then and there, Rhaegar and the Tyroshi lords signed the treaty to end slavery in Tyrosh, implementing instead a policy of indentured servitude. While not quite the abolishment he had hoped for, the king understood that a city could not survive if its foundations where ripped from beneath it and thus allowed the new law to pass. It is a step in the right direction at least, the king thought to himself.
With the war one and Tyrosh defeated, Rhaegar and his forces remained behind in Tyrosh for a while. For most of the men, it was the first glimpse of Essos they had ever had and many sought comforts in the taverns, brothels and markets of the great city. Rhaegar, while not tempted by wine and woman, perused the market stalls in search of any number of artifacts, heirlooms and trinkets from the Valyrian freeholds. Stall after stall the king passed, finding little more than tapestries and goblets sewn and etched with the sigil and words of many old Valyrian families that existed before the doom. Finding little of value to him, the King turned and made for his chambers, but not before being stopped by a final merchant.
"Good ser", the foreign man said in the common tongue, "why do you stop before you have even reached my stalls?"
"Your city has nothing to offer me, my friend", replied the king, impressed by the man's demeanor as a salesman, but too weary of his unsuccessful day to be bothered any longer.
"That is where you are wrong", refuted the merchant. "I am no common goods-peddler from Braavos or Lys. I have seen many years in the free cities. I have seen the remnants of old Valyria before my very eyes. I know a dragonlord when I see one... Your grace."
He knows who I am, thought the king. The previous merchants had simply placed Rhaegar as any other highborn lord from one of the many free cities. Few, if any, recognized him as the King of Westeros and if there were those who did they made no mention of it. Perhaps he does have something to offer me.
"I'm listening", said Rhaegar, awaiting the merchant's reply.
"I know who you are, great king. As I have already said I know a dragonlord when I see one. But." The man paused. Rhaegar's eyes widened as if to broach the words from the man's lips.
"What is a dragonlord without a dragon?" Came the reply, followed by a sly grin. He reached beneath his stall and fiddled for a while with something. Only when he arose again did Rhaegar realize what he held was of the utmost value. The elliptical shape was unmistakable. The markings were undeniable. The object would pass as an ornate stone to most, but Rhaegar's study had taught him otherwise. It was a dragon egg.
"How much?" The king asked, knowing that his sway as a king would not be enough to obtain such a treasure for free in these parts.
"thirty thousand gold dragons for... Half of a real one", the merchant japed.
"I am in no mood for jokes, ser", Rhaegar replied, before throwing down a sizeable purse on the table. "There is one hundred dragons in that pouch. Come collect the other one ninety nine thousand and nine hundred from the great hall at sunset".
With the offer on the table, the merchant sat dumbstruck. One hundred thousand gold dragons for a stone was more money than the humble merchant could ever dream of, but Rhaegar could not let the opportunity pass by. Should a dragon be hatched from the egg, one hundred thousand dragons would be the last thing on the king's mind. At sunset, as arranged, the giddy merchant arrived at the great hall to be greeted by four small chests of gold. He handed over the sand-colored treasure and loaded the chests into his kart before hurrying down the street, no doubt to purchase a palace or drown himself in women and wine. Rhaegar held the egg in his hand, caressing the scaled ridges of the rounding stone. His long hours of study had at last proven fruitful. Blackfyre sat upon his belt and a dragon egg sat upon the palm of his hand. He whispered to himself quietly, as he examined the egg once more.
"Fire and Blood".
Just subscribed to your award-winning AAR! This is truly excellent writing. The Game of Thrones is great fun to play and read!
This is truly excellent writing. The Game of Thrones is great fun to play and read!
CHAPTER IX - THE FIRE RISES
Rhaegar's return to Westeros was met with little fanfare. The defeat of the Tyroshi meant little to the people of the Seven Kingdoms. Tyrosh was a land that most would never see and home to a people most would never meet. It was the lords of the Seven Kingdoms and the lords of the free city who decided to go to war, but the people bled for it. Like their king, the people had grown tired of war. It had marred their lands for ten years since Robert Baratheon tried to take the crown by force. They wanted no more of it. With the Tyroshi war ended and stability already achieved in the Seven Kingdoms, there was peace again, for a time. The people returned to their daily lives and little blood was shed bar the minor disputes between the smaller lords of the Kingdoms. Upon his return, the king decided to use this time to further explore his latest acquisition: the dragon egg.
The books Rhaegar had read for months before the egg came into his possession proved to contain valuable information on the matter. Within the pages of the ancient text were instructions on the process of the ritual of dragon birth. Many Targaryens in years gone by had attempted to hatch dragon eggs of their own, but none had succeeded. Some sought the wisdom of the Gods, others sought the power of sorcery. None succeeded. Thought the books provided a great many details regarding the ritual, they were incomplete in their instructions. They spoke of the numerous locations scattered across Westeros that carried the stories of the dragons, even to this day. The books spoke of Summerhall and Harrenhall, once great keeps now amounting to little more than the charred remnants of dragonfire. They too spoke of Dragonstone and King's Landing, where the destructive history of the dragons were not present, but their stories lingered all the same.
The stories say that the Tragedy at Summerhall was born out of a Targaryen plan to hatch an egg there. Summerhall was a beautiful castle located in the Western Stormlands. It served as a retreat of sorts for the royal dynasty, a place to visit in times of peace and during the long summers of old. The king himself was born there, during the Tragedy, but escaped with his mother and father safely. Summerhall had always been a place of wonder for the prince as he grew up and still remained so after many years as king. With little more than a harp and horse, Rhaegar would often journey to the ruined keep to sleep under the stars and write songs and poems about whatever his mind could conjure. Even the knights of the Kingsguard did not follow him there, for the ruins of Summerhall bore no danger to the king, only comfort.
Rhaegar's journeys took him there first and it was there, beneath the stars, that the king found his first answer. As a boy, the king had never thought to explore the ruined keep for lost information, it served merely as a getaway from the rest of the world around him. Now, a man-grown in his thirties, the king had a different need of his beloved birthplace. Scouring through the dust-laden, scorch-marked remains of the keep, Rhaegar found what he was looking for. In a room that the Silver King could only assume was once a library, he grabbed at the remains of what must have been a once-treasured book. Most of the pages where burned away and only a few of the words still legible, but they were all he needed.
The History of House Targaryen.
Sigil: A three-headed dragon, red, on a field of black.
Words: Fire and Blood.
The next few lines of the pages where scorched beyond legibility, as where most of the pages that followed. The king was however able to make out the beginnings of what would be the answer to his problem, in a small passage later on in the book.
The words where not always as they are now. While always Fire and Blood has sat upon the banners of the House Targaryen, their true meaning has fallen into legend. Those alive today believe the words to mean that the sons and daughters of the Targaryen dynasty are fire made flesh, that their blood is of the dragons, but it has not always been so. These words had a different meaning, long ago, one that granted them mastery...
The passage ended there, or rather the fire had. No doubt the conclusion of the passage had been written, but the writing matters little when it cannot be read. Nonetheless, Rhaegar had a lead. Perhaps the library in the capital has a copy of the book, thought the king and so his visit to Summerhall came to an abrupt end.
After an extended search with the Grand Maester, King Rhaegar once again found what he was looking for. The book was large and clearly old, an ornate ruby-colored cover bore the words, The History of the Dragonlords of Old Valyria, the works and writings of Archmaester Ch'Vyalthan. In it, the page that Rhaegar had sought where undamaged, the words as clear as day. It had been merely a small chapter of the book, the one regarding House Targaryen. Before the Doom, House Targaryen was merely one of forty noble houses in Valyria, by no means the largest or most powerful. But, they were the one that survived. Unhindered by fire and ash, Rhaegar read the page once more.
The words where not always as they are now. While always Fire and Blood has sat upon the banners of the House Targaryen, their true meaning has fallen into legend. Those alive today believe the words to mean that the sons and daughters of the Targaryen dynasty are fire made flesh, that their blood is of the dragons, but it has not always been so. These words had a different meaning, long ago, one that granted them mastery over the winged-beasts from beyond Asshai. Fire and Blood referred not to the dragonlords, but to the dragons themselves, more directly, their birth. There are two components needed for the birth of a dragon. The first, a fire, large and hot. The second required element is blood, in the form of a sacrifice. Dragons care not for the god or gods of men, they demand only these two things. A dragon egg must be swallowed by fire and drowned by blood, only then shall the monsters of old come forth into this world. Only then shall man have dominion over monster.
"Of course..." The king did not mean to speak aloud, but the words fell from his lips nonetheless. With the secret of dragon births revealed to him, the king knew what he had to do. Fire was easy enough to come by. A giant bonfire could be built in the courtyard of the Red Keep, the wood would not be hard to come by. The second requirement however tugged more at the king's thoughts. A human sacrifice was required to complete the ritual and hatch a dragon, but this was too much to ask of the king. Had he been his father, mercilessly throwing a prisoner into the flames would have been no more than a second thought. Rhaegar was not his father though, Rhaegar had a conscious. What type of King would he be if he condemned his people to dragonfire, even if they had wronged him? He would not do it. He could not. Knowing the importance of the dragon to his dynasty, Rhaegar knew there was only one option. [It will have to be me[/I].
The next night a bonfire had been constructed in the courtyard and the bronze-colored egg placed in the center where the heat was the greatest. There was no audience to watch the ritual, only those who the King deemed important enough to view it. The king himself was of course present, as was his eldest son Aegon. He wanted Aegon to be there when he stepped into the flames. He wanted his son to see the importance of his father's sacrifice and understand the need to do right by the family above all else. He also needed his son to understand that he would now be the King in his father's absence. All but two of the Kingsguard were present, with Ser Barristan Selmy and Ser Jonothor Darry remaining behind to keep watch over the King's wife and younger children. He did not share in his findings with the six men present,as he knew none would accept his decision. When the time came, he would simply walk into the flames before a word could be said otherwise.
As the flames grew tall and the heat swelled inside the pyre, Rhaegar knew now was the time. He closed his eyes for a moment as the other's stared on at the inferno, not knowing what was to come next. With a deep breath and his eyes still shut, the king took his first step forward, but found himself stopped in his tracks. A firm palm on his chest attached to an outstretched arm stopped the king where he stood. He opened his eyes and turned to look at the man that had halted him.
"No, your grace." Came the raspy old voice of Lord Commander Gerold Hightower. "From the moment you stepped into the courtyard I knew what you were planning, your grace. I will not allow it."
"You will, Lord Commander", came Rhaegar's reply, "you must."
The old knight shook his head and smiled at his king.
"Forgive me your grace, I have served you and your family faithfully for forty years, never failing to carry out an order, but you can kindly shove this one up your arse", chuckled the old knight. He meant no disrespect to his king and Rhaegar took none. "Your father was a good man once, as you are now your grace. Do not succumb to the flames as he did."
The words echoed through Rhaegar's body. He saw the man his father had become and resented it. He had promised himself he would never become the man, nor the king, that his father was. He sat in thought for a while, only the rustling of the Kingsguard knight beside him returning his thoughts to reality.
The gruff Lord Commander was removing the pristine white cloak from his shoulders, now with the crowd of knights and the heir of the Seven Kingdoms looking on.
"In all my years, nothing has ever given me as much pride as serving beside you, my king." He paused a moment, a somber look on his aged face but a smile still upon his lips. "We are Kingsguard. We do what we must."
With that, the Lord Commander stepped forward into the flames. Rhaegar was thankful that the heat was so great, it made the process quicker for the old knight. His armor melted in the heat and his flesh burned hot, but the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard remained silent How, Rhaegar did not know. Such fortitude and courage it must have taken him not to scream in agony, but silent he remained. Before long, the knight was swallowed by the blaze and no longer visible to the onlookers.
By the early hours of dawn, the fire had dwindled down to but a pile of ash and embers. Aegon, Rhaegar and the four remaining Kingsguard had remained by the fire throughout the knight, awaiting the final product of the King's plan. As the smoke passed and the embers cooled, a solitary object became visible in the ruined pyre. The egg had remained where it was placed, hardly affected by the fire but for a brighter shine than it had possessed earlier. It was however, noticeably smaller. That was not to say the egg had decreased in size, but that it had lost its top half. There, in the middle of the pyre, sat the bottom half of a hatched egg. Rhaegar walked slowly towards the egg and peered inside. He found his prize sitting in the shell of the egg, looking up at its new master. The dragon was similar in color to its egg. It was covered in bronze scales but for a strip of grey up its spine. The color pattern reminded the king of one of the wolves he had read about in his studies as a child. The wolves that used to run wild in the kingswood. These beasts were not grey and black as their cousins in the North were, but brown and bronze, noted for their silver streak down their spine. The local's called then 'sun wolves', a name the king found befitting for the dragon he had hatched. He stood looking at the thing, not yet the beast it would one day become and said the words...
"Arise, Sun Wolf... Arise, Vezozolkys!"
Rhaegar's return to Westeros was met with little fanfare. The defeat of the Tyroshi meant little to the people of the Seven Kingdoms. Tyrosh was a land that most would never see and home to a people most would never meet. It was the lords of the Seven Kingdoms and the lords of the free city who decided to go to war, but the people bled for it. Like their king, the people had grown tired of war. It had marred their lands for ten years since Robert Baratheon tried to take the crown by force. They wanted no more of it. With the Tyroshi war ended and stability already achieved in the Seven Kingdoms, there was peace again, for a time. The people returned to their daily lives and little blood was shed bar the minor disputes between the smaller lords of the Kingdoms. Upon his return, the king decided to use this time to further explore his latest acquisition: the dragon egg.
The books Rhaegar had read for months before the egg came into his possession proved to contain valuable information on the matter. Within the pages of the ancient text were instructions on the process of the ritual of dragon birth. Many Targaryens in years gone by had attempted to hatch dragon eggs of their own, but none had succeeded. Some sought the wisdom of the Gods, others sought the power of sorcery. None succeeded. Thought the books provided a great many details regarding the ritual, they were incomplete in their instructions. They spoke of the numerous locations scattered across Westeros that carried the stories of the dragons, even to this day. The books spoke of Summerhall and Harrenhall, once great keeps now amounting to little more than the charred remnants of dragonfire. They too spoke of Dragonstone and King's Landing, where the destructive history of the dragons were not present, but their stories lingered all the same.
The stories say that the Tragedy at Summerhall was born out of a Targaryen plan to hatch an egg there. Summerhall was a beautiful castle located in the Western Stormlands. It served as a retreat of sorts for the royal dynasty, a place to visit in times of peace and during the long summers of old. The king himself was born there, during the Tragedy, but escaped with his mother and father safely. Summerhall had always been a place of wonder for the prince as he grew up and still remained so after many years as king. With little more than a harp and horse, Rhaegar would often journey to the ruined keep to sleep under the stars and write songs and poems about whatever his mind could conjure. Even the knights of the Kingsguard did not follow him there, for the ruins of Summerhall bore no danger to the king, only comfort.
Rhaegar's journeys took him there first and it was there, beneath the stars, that the king found his first answer. As a boy, the king had never thought to explore the ruined keep for lost information, it served merely as a getaway from the rest of the world around him. Now, a man-grown in his thirties, the king had a different need of his beloved birthplace. Scouring through the dust-laden, scorch-marked remains of the keep, Rhaegar found what he was looking for. In a room that the Silver King could only assume was once a library, he grabbed at the remains of what must have been a once-treasured book. Most of the pages where burned away and only a few of the words still legible, but they were all he needed.
The History of House Targaryen.
Sigil: A three-headed dragon, red, on a field of black.
Words: Fire and Blood.
The next few lines of the pages where scorched beyond legibility, as where most of the pages that followed. The king was however able to make out the beginnings of what would be the answer to his problem, in a small passage later on in the book.
The words where not always as they are now. While always Fire and Blood has sat upon the banners of the House Targaryen, their true meaning has fallen into legend. Those alive today believe the words to mean that the sons and daughters of the Targaryen dynasty are fire made flesh, that their blood is of the dragons, but it has not always been so. These words had a different meaning, long ago, one that granted them mastery...
The passage ended there, or rather the fire had. No doubt the conclusion of the passage had been written, but the writing matters little when it cannot be read. Nonetheless, Rhaegar had a lead. Perhaps the library in the capital has a copy of the book, thought the king and so his visit to Summerhall came to an abrupt end.
After an extended search with the Grand Maester, King Rhaegar once again found what he was looking for. The book was large and clearly old, an ornate ruby-colored cover bore the words, The History of the Dragonlords of Old Valyria, the works and writings of Archmaester Ch'Vyalthan. In it, the page that Rhaegar had sought where undamaged, the words as clear as day. It had been merely a small chapter of the book, the one regarding House Targaryen. Before the Doom, House Targaryen was merely one of forty noble houses in Valyria, by no means the largest or most powerful. But, they were the one that survived. Unhindered by fire and ash, Rhaegar read the page once more.
The words where not always as they are now. While always Fire and Blood has sat upon the banners of the House Targaryen, their true meaning has fallen into legend. Those alive today believe the words to mean that the sons and daughters of the Targaryen dynasty are fire made flesh, that their blood is of the dragons, but it has not always been so. These words had a different meaning, long ago, one that granted them mastery over the winged-beasts from beyond Asshai. Fire and Blood referred not to the dragonlords, but to the dragons themselves, more directly, their birth. There are two components needed for the birth of a dragon. The first, a fire, large and hot. The second required element is blood, in the form of a sacrifice. Dragons care not for the god or gods of men, they demand only these two things. A dragon egg must be swallowed by fire and drowned by blood, only then shall the monsters of old come forth into this world. Only then shall man have dominion over monster.
"Of course..." The king did not mean to speak aloud, but the words fell from his lips nonetheless. With the secret of dragon births revealed to him, the king knew what he had to do. Fire was easy enough to come by. A giant bonfire could be built in the courtyard of the Red Keep, the wood would not be hard to come by. The second requirement however tugged more at the king's thoughts. A human sacrifice was required to complete the ritual and hatch a dragon, but this was too much to ask of the king. Had he been his father, mercilessly throwing a prisoner into the flames would have been no more than a second thought. Rhaegar was not his father though, Rhaegar had a conscious. What type of King would he be if he condemned his people to dragonfire, even if they had wronged him? He would not do it. He could not. Knowing the importance of the dragon to his dynasty, Rhaegar knew there was only one option. [It will have to be me[/I].
The next night a bonfire had been constructed in the courtyard and the bronze-colored egg placed in the center where the heat was the greatest. There was no audience to watch the ritual, only those who the King deemed important enough to view it. The king himself was of course present, as was his eldest son Aegon. He wanted Aegon to be there when he stepped into the flames. He wanted his son to see the importance of his father's sacrifice and understand the need to do right by the family above all else. He also needed his son to understand that he would now be the King in his father's absence. All but two of the Kingsguard were present, with Ser Barristan Selmy and Ser Jonothor Darry remaining behind to keep watch over the King's wife and younger children. He did not share in his findings with the six men present,as he knew none would accept his decision. When the time came, he would simply walk into the flames before a word could be said otherwise.
As the flames grew tall and the heat swelled inside the pyre, Rhaegar knew now was the time. He closed his eyes for a moment as the other's stared on at the inferno, not knowing what was to come next. With a deep breath and his eyes still shut, the king took his first step forward, but found himself stopped in his tracks. A firm palm on his chest attached to an outstretched arm stopped the king where he stood. He opened his eyes and turned to look at the man that had halted him.
"No, your grace." Came the raspy old voice of Lord Commander Gerold Hightower. "From the moment you stepped into the courtyard I knew what you were planning, your grace. I will not allow it."
"You will, Lord Commander", came Rhaegar's reply, "you must."
The old knight shook his head and smiled at his king.
"Forgive me your grace, I have served you and your family faithfully for forty years, never failing to carry out an order, but you can kindly shove this one up your arse", chuckled the old knight. He meant no disrespect to his king and Rhaegar took none. "Your father was a good man once, as you are now your grace. Do not succumb to the flames as he did."
The words echoed through Rhaegar's body. He saw the man his father had become and resented it. He had promised himself he would never become the man, nor the king, that his father was. He sat in thought for a while, only the rustling of the Kingsguard knight beside him returning his thoughts to reality.
The gruff Lord Commander was removing the pristine white cloak from his shoulders, now with the crowd of knights and the heir of the Seven Kingdoms looking on.
"In all my years, nothing has ever given me as much pride as serving beside you, my king." He paused a moment, a somber look on his aged face but a smile still upon his lips. "We are Kingsguard. We do what we must."
With that, the Lord Commander stepped forward into the flames. Rhaegar was thankful that the heat was so great, it made the process quicker for the old knight. His armor melted in the heat and his flesh burned hot, but the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard remained silent How, Rhaegar did not know. Such fortitude and courage it must have taken him not to scream in agony, but silent he remained. Before long, the knight was swallowed by the blaze and no longer visible to the onlookers.
By the early hours of dawn, the fire had dwindled down to but a pile of ash and embers. Aegon, Rhaegar and the four remaining Kingsguard had remained by the fire throughout the knight, awaiting the final product of the King's plan. As the smoke passed and the embers cooled, a solitary object became visible in the ruined pyre. The egg had remained where it was placed, hardly affected by the fire but for a brighter shine than it had possessed earlier. It was however, noticeably smaller. That was not to say the egg had decreased in size, but that it had lost its top half. There, in the middle of the pyre, sat the bottom half of a hatched egg. Rhaegar walked slowly towards the egg and peered inside. He found his prize sitting in the shell of the egg, looking up at its new master. The dragon was similar in color to its egg. It was covered in bronze scales but for a strip of grey up its spine. The color pattern reminded the king of one of the wolves he had read about in his studies as a child. The wolves that used to run wild in the kingswood. These beasts were not grey and black as their cousins in the North were, but brown and bronze, noted for their silver streak down their spine. The local's called then 'sun wolves', a name the king found befitting for the dragon he had hatched. He stood looking at the thing, not yet the beast it would one day become and said the words...
"Arise, Sun Wolf... Arise, Vezozolkys!"
Just subscribed to your award-winning AAR!
Thank you very much, I appreciate it.
Sorry to those of you that enjoy the screenshot-heavy entries. I didn't feel they fit right in this chapter, barring the last one. It also doesn't help that I had to take some, 'creative liberty', regarding some of the occurrences of the chapter.
Also, anyone else not a fan of the name Vezozolkys? Pales in comparison to Balerion the Black Dread. :glare:
Also, anyone else not a fan of the name Vezozolkys? Pales in comparison to Balerion the Black Dread. :glare:
Wow, and my subscription starts off on day one with a great post. I admit, I was moved by the Lord Commander's sacrifice...very noble.
A surprise there, to be sure. I've found hatching eggs on this game is quite easy, as long as you do it with the right people. Most recent dragon was called Aenion - a little underwhelming, but that Velkolyyzyzzyzyzyzyls!
Most recent dragon was called Aenion - a little underwhelming, but that Velkolyyzyzzyzyzyzyls!
Wow, and my subscription starts off on day one with a great post. I admit, I was moved by the Lord Commander's sacrifice...very noble.
Thank you, of course that's not how he actually died in my save, but I needed a way to fit it into the story and I thought it worked well.
A surprise there, to be sure. I've found hatching eggs on this game is quite easy, as long as you do it with the right people.
Eggs are quite easy to hatch, oddly enough. The Targs never seemed to have a problem aquiring some, but hatching them was the difficult part. That's why I made up the backstory to the Fire and Blood words, to make it seem like the answer was hidden in plain sight.
And yeah, what the hell kind of name is Sun Wolf for a dragon? Tried to make that work too, but I wish you had the option to name them. Vhagar, Meraxes, Balerion, Rhaegal, Drogon and... Vezozolkys, the Sun Wolf. :glare:
So I've run into a bit of a problem...
On the 12th January 8294 my game crashes. Every time. Load my own save, crashes. Load an autosave, crashes. I have no idea what's causing it to crash but I really don't want to end my second AAR so soon, as happened with my first one.
If anyone has any idea how to fix this, it would be greatly appreciated. I'm still looking for answers myself but I'm losing hope.
On the 12th January 8294 my game crashes. Every time. Load my own save, crashes. Load an autosave, crashes. I have no idea what's causing it to crash but I really don't want to end my second AAR so soon, as happened with my first one.
If anyone has any idea how to fix this, it would be greatly appreciated. I'm still looking for answers myself but I'm losing hope.
So I've run into a bit of a problem...
On the 12th January 8294 my game crashes. Every time. Load my own save, crashes. Load an autosave, crashes. I have no idea what's causing it to crash but I really don't want to end my second AAR so soon, as happened with my first one.
If anyone has any idea how to fix this, it would be greatly appreciated. I'm still looking for answers myself but I'm losing hope.
You just keep getting swamped with bad luck!