FOR THE NIGHT IS DARK
INDEX
Prologue - 299 AL
Chapter I - For the Night is Dark
Chapter II - The First War
Chapter III - A Flame in the River
Last edited:
For the Night is Dark - A Game of Thrones Mod
- Thread starter MattSR30
- Start date
-
We have updated our Community Code of Conduct. Please read through the new rules for the forum that are an integral part of Paradox Interactive’s User Agreement.
INDEX
Prologue - 299 AL
Chapter I - For the Night is Dark
Chapter II - The First War
Chapter III - A Flame in the River
PROLOGUE
These lands have many gods.
Those on the Iron Islands worship a demon from the depths. The Drowned God they call it. The Northmen worship the trees and the gods of old they claim to represent. The rest of these heathens follow the false seven. They are nothing more than thralls to the Great Other, messengers of darkness and harbingers of death. Only our lord can stop him. The peoples of Westeros are largely unfamiliar with our lord, but those who know of him call him the Red God. In the East, he is R'hllor, the Lord of Light, and the only one capable of stopping the darkness that awaits us all. Few in these lands accept our lord's word as truth, but they will soon enough. I too used to worship these heathen gods, but I saw the light. A vision in the flames. How can one ignore the truth when it stands before them, as real as their own two hands?
Like most men in Westeros, I was born under the shadow of the false seven, and lived under it for many years. I was the third son of the lord of the Shield Isles, a loyal vassal to House Tyrell of the Reach. As the last of his children, my father cared little for me, as I held no significance to his plans as lord of the Shield Isles. As such, on my sixteenth nameday, the day I was considered a man-grown, I left the islands, with little thought of ever returning. I ensured my brother's had a means to contact me, for I bore them the love any brother would. My travels took me east, into the Free Cities and the lands beyond. I served in many courts throughout the old freeholds, learning the ways of the diplomats, and the art of swordsmanship. It was in Volantis, six years ago, that I finally saw the truth.
Though I had been gone for five years, I still held onto the false gods that I was born under. I didn't pray to them, nor did I truly believe in them, but every so often I said the words and reminded myself of where I came from. All that changed when one day, in the great stone courtyard of Volantis, a sacrifice was made to the Lord of Light. Heathens, they called them, the seven men strapped to the seven pyres in the centre of the courtyard. One pyre for each God, I thought to myself. As the men screamed in agony and the crowd said the words, I found the truth at last. The flames rose high above the pyres, burning more bright and fierce than any flame I had ever seen. But it was not the flames themselves that turned me, but what lay inside of them.
Deep in the flames I saw a vision. The Great Other stood tall in a field of snow, flanked by legions of his thralls. They were marching. Though at first it was unclear where this horde was marching too, it soon became evident that our world was the target of their impending doom. [Death is coming for everyone and everything[/I], said the priest in the middle of the courtyard, clad in red. Valar morghulis, continued the red priest, bellowing the words to the hundreds of onlookers. From my time in Essos, I had come to learn some of the old tongue of Valyria, particularly the two words the priest had just uttered. I prepared to offer the appropriate response, Valar dohaeris, but soon realized he was not offering us a common greeting. Of the hundreds of onlookers, not one responded to the man. They knew what he meant, and he did not mean to greet us. All men must die, the words translate as, and the red priest meant them. Finally, after shouting the words a few more times, the man spoke the words that have stayed with me to this day. For the night is dark and full of terrors.
From that day, I gave myself to the Lord of Light, to serve as his instrument and as a practitioner of his will on this world. I have seen things that most men could never dream of, and have learned to master the flames and bend them to do our lord's will. My travels took me further east, where the power of our lord grew ever stronger, and into the Shadowlands beyond Asshai. For years I studied, prayed and opened my eyes to the Lord of Light's teachings, and I have been rewarded with his favor. The light has been cast upon me, and I have been given a purpose in life. The visions told me to return to Volantis, to receive my mission from the High Priest there. It was there that I learned of my family's passing. The High Priest told me of his visions, my father and brothers drowned at sea many months ago, and the Shield Isles where torn apart without a lord to guide them. My family died because they did not accept our lord, but I would not follow them to their fate.
I was bid by the High Priest to return to my home, to rid the Seven Kingdoms of their false idols and turn them towards the light. Stannis Baratheon was attempting to take the crown in the name of the Lord of Light, while Thoros of Myr was charged with swaying the nobility of King's Landing towards the truth, and rumours stirred that even a Greyjoy had been turned from their demon from the deep. I was to start in the Reach, to reclaim my seat and turn my followers to the Lord of Light. When our lord has been accepted in my own home, then I was to turn south, to Oldtown. Though the High Septon had not sat there for many generations, Oldtown still remained the focal point of the false seven. When our lord's power had grown strong enough, I was to march on Oldtown and cast the shadows from these lands. Then, and only then, would my mission be complete, and my duty to the Lord of Light fulfilled.
Eleven years have passed since I stepped foot on Greyshield, and six have passed since I accepted the Lord of Light as all that is true and good in this world. The people of the Reach will know our Lord's power soon enough. Whether by acceptance or by force, the false seven will be scourged from these lands, and the people of the Reach will submit to the Lord of Light... For the night is dark and full of terrors.
These lands have many gods.
Those on the Iron Islands worship a demon from the depths. The Drowned God they call it. The Northmen worship the trees and the gods of old they claim to represent. The rest of these heathens follow the false seven. They are nothing more than thralls to the Great Other, messengers of darkness and harbingers of death. Only our lord can stop him. The peoples of Westeros are largely unfamiliar with our lord, but those who know of him call him the Red God. In the East, he is R'hllor, the Lord of Light, and the only one capable of stopping the darkness that awaits us all. Few in these lands accept our lord's word as truth, but they will soon enough. I too used to worship these heathen gods, but I saw the light. A vision in the flames. How can one ignore the truth when it stands before them, as real as their own two hands?
Like most men in Westeros, I was born under the shadow of the false seven, and lived under it for many years. I was the third son of the lord of the Shield Isles, a loyal vassal to House Tyrell of the Reach. As the last of his children, my father cared little for me, as I held no significance to his plans as lord of the Shield Isles. As such, on my sixteenth nameday, the day I was considered a man-grown, I left the islands, with little thought of ever returning. I ensured my brother's had a means to contact me, for I bore them the love any brother would. My travels took me east, into the Free Cities and the lands beyond. I served in many courts throughout the old freeholds, learning the ways of the diplomats, and the art of swordsmanship. It was in Volantis, six years ago, that I finally saw the truth.
Though I had been gone for five years, I still held onto the false gods that I was born under. I didn't pray to them, nor did I truly believe in them, but every so often I said the words and reminded myself of where I came from. All that changed when one day, in the great stone courtyard of Volantis, a sacrifice was made to the Lord of Light. Heathens, they called them, the seven men strapped to the seven pyres in the centre of the courtyard. One pyre for each God, I thought to myself. As the men screamed in agony and the crowd said the words, I found the truth at last. The flames rose high above the pyres, burning more bright and fierce than any flame I had ever seen. But it was not the flames themselves that turned me, but what lay inside of them.
Deep in the flames I saw a vision. The Great Other stood tall in a field of snow, flanked by legions of his thralls. They were marching. Though at first it was unclear where this horde was marching too, it soon became evident that our world was the target of their impending doom. [Death is coming for everyone and everything[/I], said the priest in the middle of the courtyard, clad in red. Valar morghulis, continued the red priest, bellowing the words to the hundreds of onlookers. From my time in Essos, I had come to learn some of the old tongue of Valyria, particularly the two words the priest had just uttered. I prepared to offer the appropriate response, Valar dohaeris, but soon realized he was not offering us a common greeting. Of the hundreds of onlookers, not one responded to the man. They knew what he meant, and he did not mean to greet us. All men must die, the words translate as, and the red priest meant them. Finally, after shouting the words a few more times, the man spoke the words that have stayed with me to this day. For the night is dark and full of terrors.
From that day, I gave myself to the Lord of Light, to serve as his instrument and as a practitioner of his will on this world. I have seen things that most men could never dream of, and have learned to master the flames and bend them to do our lord's will. My travels took me further east, where the power of our lord grew ever stronger, and into the Shadowlands beyond Asshai. For years I studied, prayed and opened my eyes to the Lord of Light's teachings, and I have been rewarded with his favor. The light has been cast upon me, and I have been given a purpose in life. The visions told me to return to Volantis, to receive my mission from the High Priest there. It was there that I learned of my family's passing. The High Priest told me of his visions, my father and brothers drowned at sea many months ago, and the Shield Isles where torn apart without a lord to guide them. My family died because they did not accept our lord, but I would not follow them to their fate.
I was bid by the High Priest to return to my home, to rid the Seven Kingdoms of their false idols and turn them towards the light. Stannis Baratheon was attempting to take the crown in the name of the Lord of Light, while Thoros of Myr was charged with swaying the nobility of King's Landing towards the truth, and rumours stirred that even a Greyjoy had been turned from their demon from the deep. I was to start in the Reach, to reclaim my seat and turn my followers to the Lord of Light. When our lord has been accepted in my own home, then I was to turn south, to Oldtown. Though the High Septon had not sat there for many generations, Oldtown still remained the focal point of the false seven. When our lord's power had grown strong enough, I was to march on Oldtown and cast the shadows from these lands. Then, and only then, would my mission be complete, and my duty to the Lord of Light fulfilled.
Eleven years have passed since I stepped foot on Greyshield, and six have passed since I accepted the Lord of Light as all that is true and good in this world. The people of the Reach will know our Lord's power soon enough. Whether by acceptance or by force, the false seven will be scourged from these lands, and the people of the Reach will submit to the Lord of Light... For the night is dark and full of terrors.
CHAPTER I - FOR THE NIGHT IS DARK
Gerold Grimm arrived back at his ancestral seat of Greyshield in the early months of the year 299, after Aegon's Landing, in the midst of the War of Five Kings. Battles where being waged far north, far away from his homelands, allowing the lands of the Reach moderate peace in a time filled with war. The new lord of Greyshield arrived on a small transport ship, hired in Myr to take them south, under Dorne, and back up to the Shield Isles on the western shores of the Reach. Gerold had brought little with him when he began his journey eleven years ago, and brought little back, bar the few new followers he had acquired in his years of travel. A wife accompanied the lord from the ship, one whom he had met in Volantis after his conversion to R'hllor. She too was a follower of the Lord of Light, a most devout disciple, yet not the common choice for a wife of a Westerosi lord. Lord Gerold had anticipated the news of his conversion would spread throughout the Reach, and few would see fit to wed their daughters to a follower of R'hllor. Anticipating this, the brash lord married a young Volantene girl, who's father would not object to their marriage, and brought her back to Greyshield aboard his ship. The others that accompanied Gerold were practitioners of the R'hllor faith, those that Gerold had deemed suitable to serve in his court as true believers. The last follower that accompanied the Lord of Greyshield was a Red Priest named Harlen.
Harlen found Lord Gerold in his early days of worship, and tutored him in the ways of the Red God. They grew close over the years, the Red Priest serving often as one of Gerold's most trusted advisors. Now, having returned to a country of heathens, Harlen's skills would be paramount to the success of Gerold's mission, and as such, the priest agreed to accompany Gerold to the Reach, to claim the Shield Isles in his name and deter the Reachmen away from the false seven they hold dear. Upon their arrival, Lord Gerold put Harlen straight to work, having the Red Priest work his craft in the streets of the city, attempting to draw in followers to the Lord of Light. The new lord of Greyshield had decided to take the peaceful path of converting his subjects to begin with, giving them the chance to repent and accept the Lord of Light as truth. Should that fail however, he was willing, and prepared, to take a far more ruthless approach.
With Harlen's work proselytizing well under way, Lord Gerold sought to achieve his next goal: reclaiming the Shield Isles for his house. Since before the time of Aegon's Conquest, House Grimm ruled in Greyshield as the High Lord of the Shield Isles, with the sons of the high lord usually serving as the lord of the other three islands. Greyshield had always served as the seat of the head of House Grimm, and from there they ruled the Shield Isles. Southshield and Greenshield were held by the second and third sons of House Grimm, or by a trusted regent should no sons be available to take the seats, and Oakenshield, the island furthest east served as the seat to the heir of the Shield Isles. This tradition lasted for generations, and allowed House Grimm to retain strict control over the four islands, yet it had all been undone in the last decade.
While Gerold was travelling in the east, his father grew complacent, caring little for the governance of his lands. Upon his death in a great storm, and the deaths of his sons, chaos broke out in the Shield Isles and new lords claimed the islands for their own. The High Lordship of the Shield Isles was broken, and only Greyshield remained under the jurisdiction of House Grimm. With his return to Greyshield, Lord Gerold could reclaim the three islands, by right of birth and blood, for his house, though to do so would prove troublesome. Each island held vassals of equal size and strength to Greyshield, and the walls of Oakenshield in particular were high, and had stood un-breached for centuries. To reclaim them would be no easy task, and would prove perilous for the new lord. Lord Gerold also had to ensure the mistakes of the past were not to repeat themselves. His father and brothers had all traveled on the same ship that fateful night the storm struck. With one fell swoop, they all perished, leaving no heirs behind but for Gerold, who was thousands of miles away. To ride to war with no heir would be foolhardy, yet Gerold had the Lord of Light on his side, and the Lord of Light rewards those who serve him faithfully.
"The lord has visited me in the flames", said Gerold's wife, Elaena. "I have seen you leading your men in battle against our enemies. You will be victorious."
"With our lord on our side, how can I not be?" Replied Gerold. "But I cannot leave Greyshield without an heir, for I fear not even our lord can protect me from the shaft of an arrow, nor the edge of a blade. If I am to fall with no heir to my name, my family will be extinguished, and my mission failed. I cannot risk it."
"Our lord knows of your service to him, Gerold. He knows that all you do, you do in service to him, and he has rewarded you for it." Elaena paused a moment, her husband staring back at her. "I am with child."
The Lord has blessed me with the gift of an heir, thought Gerold to himself. He has given me his blessing to reclaim my birthright. How can I deny this opportunity? The new lord was filled with a renewed sense of urgency, fueled by his devotion and sense of duty to the Red God. I will take back what is rightfully mine, starting with Greenshield. All those who oppose me shall burn... For the night is dark and full of terror.
Gerold Grimm arrived back at his ancestral seat of Greyshield in the early months of the year 299, after Aegon's Landing, in the midst of the War of Five Kings. Battles where being waged far north, far away from his homelands, allowing the lands of the Reach moderate peace in a time filled with war. The new lord of Greyshield arrived on a small transport ship, hired in Myr to take them south, under Dorne, and back up to the Shield Isles on the western shores of the Reach. Gerold had brought little with him when he began his journey eleven years ago, and brought little back, bar the few new followers he had acquired in his years of travel. A wife accompanied the lord from the ship, one whom he had met in Volantis after his conversion to R'hllor. She too was a follower of the Lord of Light, a most devout disciple, yet not the common choice for a wife of a Westerosi lord. Lord Gerold had anticipated the news of his conversion would spread throughout the Reach, and few would see fit to wed their daughters to a follower of R'hllor. Anticipating this, the brash lord married a young Volantene girl, who's father would not object to their marriage, and brought her back to Greyshield aboard his ship. The others that accompanied Gerold were practitioners of the R'hllor faith, those that Gerold had deemed suitable to serve in his court as true believers. The last follower that accompanied the Lord of Greyshield was a Red Priest named Harlen.
Harlen found Lord Gerold in his early days of worship, and tutored him in the ways of the Red God. They grew close over the years, the Red Priest serving often as one of Gerold's most trusted advisors. Now, having returned to a country of heathens, Harlen's skills would be paramount to the success of Gerold's mission, and as such, the priest agreed to accompany Gerold to the Reach, to claim the Shield Isles in his name and deter the Reachmen away from the false seven they hold dear. Upon their arrival, Lord Gerold put Harlen straight to work, having the Red Priest work his craft in the streets of the city, attempting to draw in followers to the Lord of Light. The new lord of Greyshield had decided to take the peaceful path of converting his subjects to begin with, giving them the chance to repent and accept the Lord of Light as truth. Should that fail however, he was willing, and prepared, to take a far more ruthless approach.
With Harlen's work proselytizing well under way, Lord Gerold sought to achieve his next goal: reclaiming the Shield Isles for his house. Since before the time of Aegon's Conquest, House Grimm ruled in Greyshield as the High Lord of the Shield Isles, with the sons of the high lord usually serving as the lord of the other three islands. Greyshield had always served as the seat of the head of House Grimm, and from there they ruled the Shield Isles. Southshield and Greenshield were held by the second and third sons of House Grimm, or by a trusted regent should no sons be available to take the seats, and Oakenshield, the island furthest east served as the seat to the heir of the Shield Isles. This tradition lasted for generations, and allowed House Grimm to retain strict control over the four islands, yet it had all been undone in the last decade.
While Gerold was travelling in the east, his father grew complacent, caring little for the governance of his lands. Upon his death in a great storm, and the deaths of his sons, chaos broke out in the Shield Isles and new lords claimed the islands for their own. The High Lordship of the Shield Isles was broken, and only Greyshield remained under the jurisdiction of House Grimm. With his return to Greyshield, Lord Gerold could reclaim the three islands, by right of birth and blood, for his house, though to do so would prove troublesome. Each island held vassals of equal size and strength to Greyshield, and the walls of Oakenshield in particular were high, and had stood un-breached for centuries. To reclaim them would be no easy task, and would prove perilous for the new lord. Lord Gerold also had to ensure the mistakes of the past were not to repeat themselves. His father and brothers had all traveled on the same ship that fateful night the storm struck. With one fell swoop, they all perished, leaving no heirs behind but for Gerold, who was thousands of miles away. To ride to war with no heir would be foolhardy, yet Gerold had the Lord of Light on his side, and the Lord of Light rewards those who serve him faithfully.
"The lord has visited me in the flames", said Gerold's wife, Elaena. "I have seen you leading your men in battle against our enemies. You will be victorious."
"With our lord on our side, how can I not be?" Replied Gerold. "But I cannot leave Greyshield without an heir, for I fear not even our lord can protect me from the shaft of an arrow, nor the edge of a blade. If I am to fall with no heir to my name, my family will be extinguished, and my mission failed. I cannot risk it."
"Our lord knows of your service to him, Gerold. He knows that all you do, you do in service to him, and he has rewarded you for it." Elaena paused a moment, her husband staring back at her. "I am with child."
The Lord has blessed me with the gift of an heir, thought Gerold to himself. He has given me his blessing to reclaim my birthright. How can I deny this opportunity? The new lord was filled with a renewed sense of urgency, fueled by his devotion and sense of duty to the Red God. I will take back what is rightfully mine, starting with Greenshield. All those who oppose me shall burn... For the night is dark and full of terror.
Last edited:
I would love to see this guy become King on The Iron Throne 
Also Subscribed
Also Subscribed
Last edited:
CHAPTER II - THE FIRST WAR
It did not take long for the fighting to break out after Lord Gerold's declaration of war. The forces of Greenshield, in an attempt to surprise their enemy, landed at Greyshield and engaged Lord Gerold's own forces there. Though slightly outnumbered, Lord Gerold's forces had the advantage of being the defenders, not needing to abandon their positions in an assault against the forces of Greenshield. What the enemy thought would be their advantage quickly turned to their demise. The rocky terrain of the island made it difficult for the two thousand men from Greenshield to mount any proper assault against Greywatch, and the enemy was quickly beaten back. For every one man that was lost on the side of Lord Gerold, five from Greenshield perished in the fighting. Much of the credit for such an emphatic victory went to Lord Gerold himself, who led his men in the vanguard, smashing the front lines of his enemies almost single-handedly. The sight of their lord's frenzied fighting inspired the men, who ran to their lord's side and vanquished their enemy. It was certainly a sight to behold. The enemy routed and boarded their ships to return to their home, where they were no doubt waiting for their enemy's arrival.
Lord Gerold's forces arrived at Greenshield soon after their victory at Greywatch, and made straight for Chesterfield, the seat of the lordship of the island. Expecting to find the remaining defeated forces from Greywatch, the Greyshield host instead found over two thousand islanders holding the keep for their lord. The Greyshield forces pitched their tents around the keep and began a siege on the keep, in hope that they could somehow coax the defenders into surrendering. After a few weeks however, there was little sign of the defenders breaking, and Lord Gerold began to waiver in confidence. He called a meeting with his commanders to discuss the futility of the siege.
"As you can tell my lords, we are getting nowhere with this siege", said Gerold to the five men sat around the table with him. "Ser Maryn, what is the situation of our forces?"
The man whom Lord Gerold had directed the question to, stood to speak to his lord. He was an elderly man, but as large as a bull and just as strong. His voice was loud and commanding, and indicated no sign of his age.
"I'm afraid to report that, as I see it, we cannot win this siege my lord. We have fifteen hundred men in our camp, while the defenders have over two thousand. It would take months to draw them out of the keep, and even if we could, I'm afraid they have too many men for us to repel in open battle. It is hopeless my lord."
Lord Gerold had already known this, but to hear it from someone else reassured the lord in his thoughts. Before he could next speak however, a messenger entered the tent, with news for the Lord of Greyshield.
"Begging your pardon m'lord, I have news from the east", said the youthful messenger.
"What is it? Speak." Replied Gerold, in no mood to stand around listening to some mumbling boy.
"A scout has arrived m'lord, he says a force of one thousand men are marching on us from behind. He says they've snuck out of the keep and are attempting to surround us m'lord."
They want to surround us? As odd as it may seem, the thought made Gerold Grimm smile. Our lord will never abandon his true followers. He is delivering my enemy right to me.
"Ser Maryn!" Beckoned Gerold. "Muster the men, we must turn our attention from the keep and meet the flanking force head on. Do it at once!"
Once more, the forces of Greenshield believed to have caught their enemy by surprise, but they failed to take one thing into account. The Lord of Light would not easily succumb to those faithful to the Seven. Lord Gerold believed the timely arrival of the messenger was an act from his Red God, the truth of this however was unimportant. What was important was that Lord Gerold was prepared for the flanking enemy, and without the element of surprise, the smaller Greenshield force would surely fail.
A large host of cavalry rounded the wooded surroundings of Chesterfield, thinking they were to charge directly into the undefended rear of Lord Gerold's forces. Instead, they were met with a wall of pikes, and with little difficulty, the Greyshield forces repelled the cavalry charge. When the melee ensued shortly thereafter, the flanking force was sorely outnumbered. With nearly as many men-at-arms as the entire attacking force, the battle was severely disproportionate. The Geryshield host made quick work of their Greenshield counterparts, crushing them in every area they engaged. The left flank broke first, allowing the right flank of Lord Gerold's forces, led by Ser Maryn, to smash into the center of their enemy from the side.
The flankers could not withstand the pressure for long, and quickly broke rank and fled east, further away from the keep of Chesterfield. With over half of the defending force smashed, Lord Gerold knew that the keep would soon be his, and as such, he rode to the walls with an offer of peace. Lord Gerold allowed the acting lord of Greenshield safe passage from his lands, should his men lay down their arms, surrender the keep and swear fealty to him as their rightful lord. Knowing how the tables had been turned, the lord accepted, and the war was ended. It was only a few short months, but Gerold's decisive victory surely warned the other lords of the Shield Isles was what in store for them too, should they resist their rightful lord.
With the fighting ended, Lord Gerold, now lord of Greyshield and Greenshield returned home to his seat at Greywatch. Upon his return, he was met by the Red Priest Harlen, who had some news for his lord.
"My lord, I bear good news from home. A number of your loyal courtiers have seen the truth in the flames, and have accepted our lord as their own."
Pleased with the news, Gerold thanked Harlen for his work, yet asked the man why he had a troubled look on his face.
"Though some have seen the light, I fear most are still unwilling to repent." Said Harlen. "The roots of the lies told to them of the Seven are deep, they refuse to believe in the truth of our lord. But, I know something that might convince them of the truth, my lord."
With that said, the Red Priest gestured his lord into the courtyard, where a crowd had been gathered around a large pyre. A man was tied to the pyre, and Harlen explained that the man had defamed their lord, and deserved to be punished accordingly. He also bore the news that, while Gerold was away fighting, his wife had bore him a daughter, named Syrella. Gerold was handed his daughter to hold and look at for the first time. Though he loved her unequivocally, he was pained to see that his only child was hideously deformed. Her face was gnarled and spotted. The child was, for all accounts, a monster. But she was his daughter, and would be raised as his heir, until a son was born to him.
Harlen approached his lord again, and asked to take the child from him to hold. The fire was already beginning to grow in the pyre, but the infidel was yet to be touched by the flames.
"Do you trust in me, my lord?" Asked Harlen, after receiving the child from his liege.
Gerold looked confused, not understanding where the question came about from.
"Do you trust in our lord?"
Gerold, still confused, nodded his head. Though he was unsure what was about to occur, his answer was the truth. He trusted the Lord of Light, and in turn, trusted Harlen.
The Red Priest made his way for the centre of the courtyard, with Syrella in his arms, and stood beside the burning pyre. The flames had now reached the prisoner, and his screams were heard by all in attendance.
"Behold!" Yelled the Red Priest, as to gain the attention of the crown of onlookers. He held the child high up as to indicate what was to be beheld by the audience. "There are those of you here today who still cling to your Seven false gods. here are those of you who do not follow the truth as it has been laid out before you. You claim that little proof or evidence has been shown to you of the existence of the Lord of Light, but how much more proof do you require than this child?" The crowd was largely confused, but still heeded the words of the Red Priest.
"Your blatant disregard for the truth has left this child hideously malformed. Your faith in your false gods have made her weak and had scarred her before she had even left her mother's womb. You, and your Seven did this to her, but the Lord of Light can save her. You see, those who submit to our lord, and accept his word as truth shall see the light, and will be ever guided by his wisdom and mercy. Those who do not however, will perish, as the blasphemer behind me. You say you require proof, and so you shall have it... Behold."
With that, Harlen removed a red silk from around his neck and draped it over the baby in his arms. It covered her body in its entirety, and he turned to face the pyre. Without hesitation, the priest thrusted the child into the fire, and quickly removed her again. The silk had caught alight, and quickly grew into a flame itself, but the priest held on. After a few seconds of burning, and with the crowd of onlookers gasping in horror, Harlen threw the silk from the child to reveal her, unhurt. The flames did not burn the child, and Harlen held her up for all to see. To the wonder of all in attendance, the child was cured. Gone were her frailties and malformations, instead replaced by strength, beauty and health. No longer deformed, Syrella looked as any other baby might: normal.
Still holding the child high above his head for all to see, Harlen spoke again.
"Here is your proof. Here is the power of the Lord of Light. You have seen the truth, now join us, for the night is dark and full of terror!"
It did not take long for the fighting to break out after Lord Gerold's declaration of war. The forces of Greenshield, in an attempt to surprise their enemy, landed at Greyshield and engaged Lord Gerold's own forces there. Though slightly outnumbered, Lord Gerold's forces had the advantage of being the defenders, not needing to abandon their positions in an assault against the forces of Greenshield. What the enemy thought would be their advantage quickly turned to their demise. The rocky terrain of the island made it difficult for the two thousand men from Greenshield to mount any proper assault against Greywatch, and the enemy was quickly beaten back. For every one man that was lost on the side of Lord Gerold, five from Greenshield perished in the fighting. Much of the credit for such an emphatic victory went to Lord Gerold himself, who led his men in the vanguard, smashing the front lines of his enemies almost single-handedly. The sight of their lord's frenzied fighting inspired the men, who ran to their lord's side and vanquished their enemy. It was certainly a sight to behold. The enemy routed and boarded their ships to return to their home, where they were no doubt waiting for their enemy's arrival.
Lord Gerold's forces arrived at Greenshield soon after their victory at Greywatch, and made straight for Chesterfield, the seat of the lordship of the island. Expecting to find the remaining defeated forces from Greywatch, the Greyshield host instead found over two thousand islanders holding the keep for their lord. The Greyshield forces pitched their tents around the keep and began a siege on the keep, in hope that they could somehow coax the defenders into surrendering. After a few weeks however, there was little sign of the defenders breaking, and Lord Gerold began to waiver in confidence. He called a meeting with his commanders to discuss the futility of the siege.
"As you can tell my lords, we are getting nowhere with this siege", said Gerold to the five men sat around the table with him. "Ser Maryn, what is the situation of our forces?"
The man whom Lord Gerold had directed the question to, stood to speak to his lord. He was an elderly man, but as large as a bull and just as strong. His voice was loud and commanding, and indicated no sign of his age.
"I'm afraid to report that, as I see it, we cannot win this siege my lord. We have fifteen hundred men in our camp, while the defenders have over two thousand. It would take months to draw them out of the keep, and even if we could, I'm afraid they have too many men for us to repel in open battle. It is hopeless my lord."
Lord Gerold had already known this, but to hear it from someone else reassured the lord in his thoughts. Before he could next speak however, a messenger entered the tent, with news for the Lord of Greyshield.
"Begging your pardon m'lord, I have news from the east", said the youthful messenger.
"What is it? Speak." Replied Gerold, in no mood to stand around listening to some mumbling boy.
"A scout has arrived m'lord, he says a force of one thousand men are marching on us from behind. He says they've snuck out of the keep and are attempting to surround us m'lord."
They want to surround us? As odd as it may seem, the thought made Gerold Grimm smile. Our lord will never abandon his true followers. He is delivering my enemy right to me.
"Ser Maryn!" Beckoned Gerold. "Muster the men, we must turn our attention from the keep and meet the flanking force head on. Do it at once!"
Once more, the forces of Greenshield believed to have caught their enemy by surprise, but they failed to take one thing into account. The Lord of Light would not easily succumb to those faithful to the Seven. Lord Gerold believed the timely arrival of the messenger was an act from his Red God, the truth of this however was unimportant. What was important was that Lord Gerold was prepared for the flanking enemy, and without the element of surprise, the smaller Greenshield force would surely fail.
A large host of cavalry rounded the wooded surroundings of Chesterfield, thinking they were to charge directly into the undefended rear of Lord Gerold's forces. Instead, they were met with a wall of pikes, and with little difficulty, the Greyshield forces repelled the cavalry charge. When the melee ensued shortly thereafter, the flanking force was sorely outnumbered. With nearly as many men-at-arms as the entire attacking force, the battle was severely disproportionate. The Geryshield host made quick work of their Greenshield counterparts, crushing them in every area they engaged. The left flank broke first, allowing the right flank of Lord Gerold's forces, led by Ser Maryn, to smash into the center of their enemy from the side.
The flankers could not withstand the pressure for long, and quickly broke rank and fled east, further away from the keep of Chesterfield. With over half of the defending force smashed, Lord Gerold knew that the keep would soon be his, and as such, he rode to the walls with an offer of peace. Lord Gerold allowed the acting lord of Greenshield safe passage from his lands, should his men lay down their arms, surrender the keep and swear fealty to him as their rightful lord. Knowing how the tables had been turned, the lord accepted, and the war was ended. It was only a few short months, but Gerold's decisive victory surely warned the other lords of the Shield Isles was what in store for them too, should they resist their rightful lord.
With the fighting ended, Lord Gerold, now lord of Greyshield and Greenshield returned home to his seat at Greywatch. Upon his return, he was met by the Red Priest Harlen, who had some news for his lord.
"My lord, I bear good news from home. A number of your loyal courtiers have seen the truth in the flames, and have accepted our lord as their own."
Pleased with the news, Gerold thanked Harlen for his work, yet asked the man why he had a troubled look on his face.
"Though some have seen the light, I fear most are still unwilling to repent." Said Harlen. "The roots of the lies told to them of the Seven are deep, they refuse to believe in the truth of our lord. But, I know something that might convince them of the truth, my lord."
With that said, the Red Priest gestured his lord into the courtyard, where a crowd had been gathered around a large pyre. A man was tied to the pyre, and Harlen explained that the man had defamed their lord, and deserved to be punished accordingly. He also bore the news that, while Gerold was away fighting, his wife had bore him a daughter, named Syrella. Gerold was handed his daughter to hold and look at for the first time. Though he loved her unequivocally, he was pained to see that his only child was hideously deformed. Her face was gnarled and spotted. The child was, for all accounts, a monster. But she was his daughter, and would be raised as his heir, until a son was born to him.
Harlen approached his lord again, and asked to take the child from him to hold. The fire was already beginning to grow in the pyre, but the infidel was yet to be touched by the flames.
"Do you trust in me, my lord?" Asked Harlen, after receiving the child from his liege.
Gerold looked confused, not understanding where the question came about from.
"Do you trust in our lord?"
Gerold, still confused, nodded his head. Though he was unsure what was about to occur, his answer was the truth. He trusted the Lord of Light, and in turn, trusted Harlen.
The Red Priest made his way for the centre of the courtyard, with Syrella in his arms, and stood beside the burning pyre. The flames had now reached the prisoner, and his screams were heard by all in attendance.
"Behold!" Yelled the Red Priest, as to gain the attention of the crown of onlookers. He held the child high up as to indicate what was to be beheld by the audience. "There are those of you here today who still cling to your Seven false gods. here are those of you who do not follow the truth as it has been laid out before you. You claim that little proof or evidence has been shown to you of the existence of the Lord of Light, but how much more proof do you require than this child?" The crowd was largely confused, but still heeded the words of the Red Priest.
"Your blatant disregard for the truth has left this child hideously malformed. Your faith in your false gods have made her weak and had scarred her before she had even left her mother's womb. You, and your Seven did this to her, but the Lord of Light can save her. You see, those who submit to our lord, and accept his word as truth shall see the light, and will be ever guided by his wisdom and mercy. Those who do not however, will perish, as the blasphemer behind me. You say you require proof, and so you shall have it... Behold."
With that, Harlen removed a red silk from around his neck and draped it over the baby in his arms. It covered her body in its entirety, and he turned to face the pyre. Without hesitation, the priest thrusted the child into the fire, and quickly removed her again. The silk had caught alight, and quickly grew into a flame itself, but the priest held on. After a few seconds of burning, and with the crowd of onlookers gasping in horror, Harlen threw the silk from the child to reveal her, unhurt. The flames did not burn the child, and Harlen held her up for all to see. To the wonder of all in attendance, the child was cured. Gone were her frailties and malformations, instead replaced by strength, beauty and health. No longer deformed, Syrella looked as any other baby might: normal.
Still holding the child high above his head for all to see, Harlen spoke again.
"Here is your proof. Here is the power of the Lord of Light. You have seen the truth, now join us, for the night is dark and full of terror!"
Last edited:
Nice explanation of CK2's defender boost at the start, there
Also, I'm going to be very interested to see if this episode doesn't have an affect on Syrella later, or if it does something else to her besides purify her of her ugliness. By the by, did that actually happen in game, or did you remove her ugliness by a cheat code and RP it that way, or...what? Just curious.
Also, I'm going to be very interested to see if this episode doesn't have an affect on Syrella later, or if it does something else to her besides purify her of her ugliness. By the by, did that actually happen in game, or did you remove her ugliness by a cheat code and RP it that way, or...what? Just curious.
Nice explanation of CK2's defender boost at the start, there
Also, I'm going to be very interested to see if this episode doesn't have an affect on Syrella later, or if it does something else to her besides purify her of her ugliness. By the by, did that actually happen in game, or did you remove her ugliness by a cheat code and RP it that way, or...what? Just curious.
It genuinely happened. I'm not sure how familiar you are with the R'hllor mechanics of the mod, but when you execute a prisoner by fire, you get a new section in the intrigue category. It allows you to heal people, protect people in battle and protect them from plots. Very useful when you're first born child is hideous.
It genuinely happened. I'm not sure how familiar you are with the R'hllor mechanics of the mod, but when you execute a prisoner by fire, you get a new section in the intrigue category. It allows you to heal people, protect people in battle and protect them from plots. Very useful when you're first born child is hideous.
Sadly, I haven't had a chance to play around with the R'hllor quests in the mod yet. But this is good to know, and keep in mind.
See, this is one reason I read AARs
CHAPTER III - A FLAME IN THE RIVER
The Faith of the Seven had spread throughout the kingdoms of Westeros when the Andals arrived thousands of years ago, and has been the major religion ever since. However, there are older, more ancient gods that are worshiped still in some parts. The Old Gods were worshiped in the kingdoms long before the Andals arrived, and are still held by the men in the North. The Old Gods do not require grand septs to be built, nor statues of their likenesses erected, for they are of more simple origins. The bastion of their faith is a simple tree, a weirwood to be exact, carved with the face of a man, and blood-red sap running from the eyes. The weirwoods covered Westeros from the Wall to the Red Mountains long ago, but the Andal invasion saw most of the forests burned. Now, only the North remains relatively untouched, and there are still weirwoods to be found in the many keeps across the Seven Kingdoms, as to accommodate any travelling Northerners.
Lord Gerold had his problems with the Seven, that much can be assured, but his hatred towards the Old Gods was deeper-rooted. In the eyes of the followers of R'hllor, the Seven were vassals of the Great Other, but the Old Gods were far closer to him than the Seven could ever hope to be. People would often wonder how the weirwood trees could stand fast in the icy cold of the North, even during the winters. People wondered if it really was the Children who fostered and nurtured the trees to grow and live for thousands of years. They failed to see the truth, but Lord Gerold would not be deceived. The Old Gods are not gods, but servants, just as everyone and everything else in the world is. The Great Other is the enemy of R'hllor. Ice is his shield, the cold, his armor, and the Old Gods where merely more foot soldiers in his vast army of darkness.
When the word reached Greyshield that the Reach was gathering it's strength to march on the Riverlands, Lord Gerold did not hesitate to respond. The Riverlanders have taken Robb Stark as their King. They have allied themselves with the cold. They will burn for it. Upon his arrival in the Riverlands, Lord Gerold was rewarded with a position of command. Mace Tyrell had apparently heard of his cunning victory over Greenshield, and saw fit to put him at the head of a force of no less than ten thousand men. With the Riverlanders and the Northmen preoccupied with conflicts further North, the southern Riverlands were ripe for conquest. As such, Lord Gerold took his force and made for Lolliston, just south of Riverrun. The mission was to claim the Riverlands in the name of the King, but the opportunity to spread the message of the Lord of Light was of far greater importance to Gerold. When darkness descends, golden crowns and iron thrones wont matter. Fire will be the only salvation.
As was to be expected, most of the Riverlanders had assembled into a larger force and were preoccupied further North. As such, only smaller garrisons remained behind to defend the holdings of the river lords. Lollistonkeep, the main defence in Lolliston, Lollistonkeep, was weak, and was crushed in the assault in little time. With the keep taken, the the rest of the holding was easy pickings for Lord Gerold's forces. They marched on the city of Lilliston and routed the few defenders there. The city of Brightbridge was not so easily taken, with the few hundred defenders refusing to relinquish the city to the Reachmen. They resisted bravely, but fell nonetheless. With Brightbridge taken, the entire holding of Lolliston fell under the control of the Reach, and as such, Lord Gerold decided to use it as his base of operations in the Riverlands. At least until we take Riverrun, the lord thought to himself, jokingly.
When Lord Gerold arrived at Branstone, he found Stafford Lannister already there, preparing to assault the holding with his own force. However, the arrivale of thousands of Reachmen greatly improved his situation, and the holding fell shortly thereafter. With Branstone and Lolliston now under control of the Reach, it was time to head back south to claim Pinkmaiden. The three holdings together would form a suitable base of operations for not only the Reachmen, but for any allied forces wishing to rest on their march into the Riverlands.
Pinkmaiden had already seen fighting earlier on in the war, and as such, was far less capable of withstanding the assault from the forces of Lord Gerold. In one fell swoop, Lord Gerold took the cities of Broadfield and Ferrybridge from their Riverlander garrisons. They put up little fight, but they were resistant nonetheless. They follow the wrong gods, and the wrong men, but their hearts cannot be faultered, thought Gerold to himself. The two victories gave Lord Gerold control over Pinkmaiden, and won almost the entirety of the southern Riverlands for the Reach. With the victory in Pinkmaiden secured, all eyes turned on Riverrun.
While Lord Gerold's ten thousand men had taken the southern Riverlands, the forces of Casterly Rock and King's Landing had defeated Robb Stark and the Tullys at every turn. So badly beaten, the Young Wolf had retreated with his uncle, Edmure, to Riverrun, in hopes of replenishing their force to engage the southerners once more. However, he was not expecting Lord Gerold's force marching on the seat of House Tully from the south. With A vast royal host bearing down from the north, and Lord Gerold from the south, Robb Stark had nowhere to turn.
Robb Stark surrendered to King Joffrey at Riverrun, having been soundly defeated everywhere he turned. The King in the North's shoulders were swiftly relieved of his head by Ilyn Payne, but Edmure Tully was kept alive. Joffrey thought that killing Robb Stark would send a strong message to the rest of the lords in Westeros, a sign of their fate should they resist the crown. Edmure Tully was, however, of more value alive, surprisingly enough. Edmure Tully was never much of a diplomat, nor a soldier, but as the lord of the Riverlands, his name carried great weight. Had Joffrey had the Tully lord executed as well, the Lord Paramouncy of the Riverlands would have fallen to Edmure's uncle, Brynden Tully. The Blackfish, as he was known, was a formidable commander, and would no doubt continue to resist the throne. However, with his nephew imprisoned, there was little the Blackfish could do to continue the rebellion.
The defeat of the Northerners and the Riverlanders left the Iron Throne with only one other real threat: Stannis Baratheon. Having claimed the Stormlands from his brother Renly nearly two years ago, Stannis was still waging his war for the Iron Throne. As such, the Reach was once more called into the war, and Lord Gerold once again replied. At first, the brash lord was keen to meet the followers of the Old Gods in battle, and spread the message of the Lord of Light to the unbelievers. However, Stannis too was a follower of the Lord of Light, or at least he claimed to be. The Red Priest Harlen had warned Lord Gerold of the lady who accompanied the lord of the Stormlands, Melisandre. The Red Priestess was said to have Stannis under her spell, and practically ruled the Stormlands in his name. The truth of this remained to be seen, but Lord Gerold was prepared to counter her.
"She calls herself a Red Priestess", said Harlen, "she claims to see the truth in the flames. Like everyone else, my lord, she is wrong. She only follows lies. She cannot be trusted. Trust in our lord, trust in the Lord of Light and the flames will guide you to the truth my lord. Trust in him."
The Faith of the Seven had spread throughout the kingdoms of Westeros when the Andals arrived thousands of years ago, and has been the major religion ever since. However, there are older, more ancient gods that are worshiped still in some parts. The Old Gods were worshiped in the kingdoms long before the Andals arrived, and are still held by the men in the North. The Old Gods do not require grand septs to be built, nor statues of their likenesses erected, for they are of more simple origins. The bastion of their faith is a simple tree, a weirwood to be exact, carved with the face of a man, and blood-red sap running from the eyes. The weirwoods covered Westeros from the Wall to the Red Mountains long ago, but the Andal invasion saw most of the forests burned. Now, only the North remains relatively untouched, and there are still weirwoods to be found in the many keeps across the Seven Kingdoms, as to accommodate any travelling Northerners.
Lord Gerold had his problems with the Seven, that much can be assured, but his hatred towards the Old Gods was deeper-rooted. In the eyes of the followers of R'hllor, the Seven were vassals of the Great Other, but the Old Gods were far closer to him than the Seven could ever hope to be. People would often wonder how the weirwood trees could stand fast in the icy cold of the North, even during the winters. People wondered if it really was the Children who fostered and nurtured the trees to grow and live for thousands of years. They failed to see the truth, but Lord Gerold would not be deceived. The Old Gods are not gods, but servants, just as everyone and everything else in the world is. The Great Other is the enemy of R'hllor. Ice is his shield, the cold, his armor, and the Old Gods where merely more foot soldiers in his vast army of darkness.
When the word reached Greyshield that the Reach was gathering it's strength to march on the Riverlands, Lord Gerold did not hesitate to respond. The Riverlanders have taken Robb Stark as their King. They have allied themselves with the cold. They will burn for it. Upon his arrival in the Riverlands, Lord Gerold was rewarded with a position of command. Mace Tyrell had apparently heard of his cunning victory over Greenshield, and saw fit to put him at the head of a force of no less than ten thousand men. With the Riverlanders and the Northmen preoccupied with conflicts further North, the southern Riverlands were ripe for conquest. As such, Lord Gerold took his force and made for Lolliston, just south of Riverrun. The mission was to claim the Riverlands in the name of the King, but the opportunity to spread the message of the Lord of Light was of far greater importance to Gerold. When darkness descends, golden crowns and iron thrones wont matter. Fire will be the only salvation.
As was to be expected, most of the Riverlanders had assembled into a larger force and were preoccupied further North. As such, only smaller garrisons remained behind to defend the holdings of the river lords. Lollistonkeep, the main defence in Lolliston, Lollistonkeep, was weak, and was crushed in the assault in little time. With the keep taken, the the rest of the holding was easy pickings for Lord Gerold's forces. They marched on the city of Lilliston and routed the few defenders there. The city of Brightbridge was not so easily taken, with the few hundred defenders refusing to relinquish the city to the Reachmen. They resisted bravely, but fell nonetheless. With Brightbridge taken, the entire holding of Lolliston fell under the control of the Reach, and as such, Lord Gerold decided to use it as his base of operations in the Riverlands. At least until we take Riverrun, the lord thought to himself, jokingly.
When Lord Gerold arrived at Branstone, he found Stafford Lannister already there, preparing to assault the holding with his own force. However, the arrivale of thousands of Reachmen greatly improved his situation, and the holding fell shortly thereafter. With Branstone and Lolliston now under control of the Reach, it was time to head back south to claim Pinkmaiden. The three holdings together would form a suitable base of operations for not only the Reachmen, but for any allied forces wishing to rest on their march into the Riverlands.
Pinkmaiden had already seen fighting earlier on in the war, and as such, was far less capable of withstanding the assault from the forces of Lord Gerold. In one fell swoop, Lord Gerold took the cities of Broadfield and Ferrybridge from their Riverlander garrisons. They put up little fight, but they were resistant nonetheless. They follow the wrong gods, and the wrong men, but their hearts cannot be faultered, thought Gerold to himself. The two victories gave Lord Gerold control over Pinkmaiden, and won almost the entirety of the southern Riverlands for the Reach. With the victory in Pinkmaiden secured, all eyes turned on Riverrun.
While Lord Gerold's ten thousand men had taken the southern Riverlands, the forces of Casterly Rock and King's Landing had defeated Robb Stark and the Tullys at every turn. So badly beaten, the Young Wolf had retreated with his uncle, Edmure, to Riverrun, in hopes of replenishing their force to engage the southerners once more. However, he was not expecting Lord Gerold's force marching on the seat of House Tully from the south. With A vast royal host bearing down from the north, and Lord Gerold from the south, Robb Stark had nowhere to turn.
Robb Stark surrendered to King Joffrey at Riverrun, having been soundly defeated everywhere he turned. The King in the North's shoulders were swiftly relieved of his head by Ilyn Payne, but Edmure Tully was kept alive. Joffrey thought that killing Robb Stark would send a strong message to the rest of the lords in Westeros, a sign of their fate should they resist the crown. Edmure Tully was, however, of more value alive, surprisingly enough. Edmure Tully was never much of a diplomat, nor a soldier, but as the lord of the Riverlands, his name carried great weight. Had Joffrey had the Tully lord executed as well, the Lord Paramouncy of the Riverlands would have fallen to Edmure's uncle, Brynden Tully. The Blackfish, as he was known, was a formidable commander, and would no doubt continue to resist the throne. However, with his nephew imprisoned, there was little the Blackfish could do to continue the rebellion.
The defeat of the Northerners and the Riverlanders left the Iron Throne with only one other real threat: Stannis Baratheon. Having claimed the Stormlands from his brother Renly nearly two years ago, Stannis was still waging his war for the Iron Throne. As such, the Reach was once more called into the war, and Lord Gerold once again replied. At first, the brash lord was keen to meet the followers of the Old Gods in battle, and spread the message of the Lord of Light to the unbelievers. However, Stannis too was a follower of the Lord of Light, or at least he claimed to be. The Red Priest Harlen had warned Lord Gerold of the lady who accompanied the lord of the Stormlands, Melisandre. The Red Priestess was said to have Stannis under her spell, and practically ruled the Stormlands in his name. The truth of this remained to be seen, but Lord Gerold was prepared to counter her.
"She calls herself a Red Priestess", said Harlen, "she claims to see the truth in the flames. Like everyone else, my lord, she is wrong. She only follows lies. She cannot be trusted. Trust in our lord, trust in the Lord of Light and the flames will guide you to the truth my lord. Trust in him."
Whenever you have problems, the default position is to throw them all in jail!
A certain king is still a tyrant, what else is new.
A certain king is still a tyrant, what else is new.
And so Robb dies the same way as his father... Still great AAR so far also how did you get that table of contents?
Whenever you have problems, the default position is to throw them all in jail!
A certain king is still a tyrant, what else is new.
You want 'new'? I'll give you new, just you wait. Big things are coming in Westeros.
Starks and their heads...
You just know Joffrey's happy to have killed Robb.
But it seems like this opposition to Stannis is a Fireworshiper-on-Fireworshiper crime.
But it seems like this opposition to Stannis is a Fireworshiper-on-Fireworshiper crime.
When two men claim to be the lord's chosen, shit's bound to go down.
Thank you. Don't want to toot my own horn, or my character's horn rather, but some crazy shit's going to happen over the next few chapters.