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To anyone who is reading/still reading this AAR, firstly, thank you very much.
Secondly, and more importantly, I have an update on the progression of the AAR. If you want to know what that update is, click the spoiler below.
See you in Part Five!
Unfortunately, for some odd reason, my main save and my autosaves have been corrupted or something, and I cannot load my House Dayne playthrought at all. That means, I'm sad to say, this AAR will be coming to an end earlier than I had thought.
Fortunately, I reached a point in my game that seems like a logical conclusion anyways, so not all is lost. While I wanted this to go on indefinitely, the point at I'm at makes sense for an ending to this AAR. There are still somewhere between 2-5 parts left in this AAR, so it's not over yet.
To anyone who is reading/still reading this AAR, firstly, thank you very much.
Secondly, and more importantly, I have an update on the progression of the AAR. If you want to know what that update is, click the spoiler below.
See you in Part Five!
Unfortunately, for some odd reason, my main save and my autosaves have been corrupted or something, and I cannot load my House Dayne playthrought at all. That means, I'm sad to say, this AAR will be coming to an end earlier than I had thought.
Fortunately, I reached a point in my game that seems like a logical conclusion anyways, so not all is lost. While I wanted this to go on indefinitely, the point at I'm at makes sense for an ending to this AAR. There are still somewhere between 2-5 parts left in this AAR, so it's not over yet.
King Tommen's forces had been pushing up through the Neck for some time before Starfall entered into the war. The crannogmen had lived up to their reputation as formidable warriors and staunch protectors of their lands. Lord Howland Reed epitomized this above all. The man was small in stature, but large in heart. He had fought many times to defend the North from Southern advances, and most notably, stood alongside Ned Stark at the Tower of Joy.
The story was the stuff of legends. Seven Northerners stood against three Knights of the Kingsguard. Lords Howland and Eddard are the only names I remember of the Northern contingent. The names of the Kingsguard however, I could never forget. Ser Oswell Whent, Lord Commander Gerold Hightower and Ser Arthur Dayne. Arthur Dayne was my uncle. He was the last Sword of the Morning, and the finest knight Westeros has ever seen. They say the battle was long and bloody, and by the end of it all, only Lord Eddard and Lord Howland remained. I fail to believe that my uncle was not the last of the Kingsguard still standing, and I have no doubt that it took the two Northern Lords to defeat him. Eddard was an honorable man. He returned Dawn to Starfall, and sung the praises of my uncle until the end of his days. Lord Howland however, was not Eddard Stark. Few had even seen Howland Reed since the melee, let alone heard a word from him. He did not ride with the Lord of Winterfell to Starfall, nor did he offer our family his sympathy. To me, he was naught but a trickster and a fiend.
My feelings of Lord Howland wrestled with my mind over the course of my voyage North. A large part of me wanted to join the royal host and march on Greywater Watch, but I had already made up my mind. My forces were to take the Northern Clans by surprise. With the eyes of Winterfell fixed on the Neck, the Northern Clans would be left mostly unattended, but for a small garrison. While not the most glorious of options in a war, it was one that would hasten the defeat of our enemy the most. I landed on the shores of the North, and my forces were met with next to no resistance. We took the first two keeps in as many days, with little more than old men defending them. It was when my forces were in Shadowmoore that the news from Starfall reached me. Stillborn? My heart sank. The thought of a child with Sansa had me brimming with joy for the past nine months. The child was my reasoning for my involvement in the North to begin with. My daughter did not survive to see her first day in this world, and the thought pained me to no end. I should return home and be with Sansa. I thought.
No. I was letting grief get the better of me. I had a job to do, and I would do it. I held the siege of Shadowmoore for little more than a few weeks before their host rode out to meet me. Five hundred mounted horsemen rode out of the castles gates, directly into our positions. They were a courageous bunch. Courageous, but foolish, and ill-trained. The Northern Clans were not known for their skills in warfare, but for their wildling ancestry. They were pillagers. Thieves. And they fought like it. It took us no more than an hour or two to dispatch of them, and after that, the castle was ours. I was sat at the great hearth of the keep when two riders arrived. One wore a suit of mail, adorned by the crowned stag and lion, an emissary of King Tommen. The other wore all black, unmistakable as a brother of the Night's watch. Fearing the news from King's Landing would be far worse, I attended to Tommen's messenger first.
"What news from King's Landing?", I asked the man.
"King Tommen thanks you for your service, Lord Edric, and wishes to inform you that the pretender Galbert Glover has been brought to justice. The war is won."
I nodded my head, and with that, the man left, surely to attend to the other lords throughout the North. Noticing the departure of the royal messenger, the second messenger stepped forward.
"A message from Lord Commander Snow, m'lord.", the black brother said. "He calls for your aid."
Jon Snow. The bastard son of Eddard Stark, and Lord Commander of the Night's Watch. My brother by marriage. I could not deny my own brother aid, could I?
"Wildlings are beginning to gather near the wall, m'lord. Our Lord Commander thinks they might be preparing for another invasion. We have not the men to defend against another wilding host. Will you ride to our aid?"
"I am now Lord Snow's brother as much as you.", I said to the man. "Of course I will come."
With that, I addressed my men, and made for our ships. I could have marched my men to Castle Black, but the wall was far easier to pass by sea. We landed behind the wall and marched towards the castle. Not two days later did we encounter our enemy. A host of wildling raiders similar in size to our own. With no cavalry, and similar training to the forces we faced in the Northern Clans, the wildlings proved little more than a nuisance. The battle was swift and deadly, and our enemy almost entirely wiped out. The few remaining survivors posed little threat to the wall, and with that, I prepared my men for the journey home to Starfall. I made sure to send a raven to Lord Snow at Castle Black, letting him know that the forces of House Dayne would always come to the aid of the Starks. Even their bastards.
Starfall saw peace for a while after my return. A year had passed since I set sail for the North when the Darkstar barged into my halls.
"Aegon is back Edric!", he yelled, barely through the door before the words fell from his mouth. "He has returned to claim his throne, and Dorne has answered his call!"
I rose from my seat and approached my dear mentor. I put a hand on his shoulder, as he did on mine.We stared at eachother for a moment, smiles on our faces.
"We ride Edric. At long last, we ride".
Most of Starfall's forces were still fresh from our campaign in the North by the time the Darkstar arrived at our port with the remainder of my levies. Four thousand men were at my command. Four thousand men waited for my command that allowed them to march to their King's side. At first light on the third day at anchor, we boarded our ships and sailed for the Stormlands. The journey into Shipbreaker Bay would be a perilous one no doubt, but one that we had to take. The march through Dorne would have taken weeks, and the marshes a few weeks more. We didn't have that kind of time, our King needed us.
The news had reached us of Aegon's return in September, and by mid-October, we had one our first victory. Felwood lied to the North of Storm's End, and was a significant garrison along the road to the Crownlands. The Stormlanders were not suspecting an attack from the South, and we defeated them with relative ease. Next we marched on the Bronzegate, the last stop in the Stormlands before entering the domains of the King. News had reached the defenders there of our coming, and so the battle was not as easy as our previous. Still, the small Stormlander host could not hold for long against my larger force, and the castle soon fell. After a few weeks of rest, resupply and reinforcement, we made our way into the Crownlands.
Our forces encountered little in the way of resistance in the Crownlands for the first while. A skirmish or two between scouting parties was all to report. Eventually we reached Woodmere, one of the Crownland's larger keeps. It was deserted. The defenders had obviously seen our advance and fled deeper into safe territory, but to see them ruin their own keep was something else. Large sections of the walls had been pulled down and the rubble was used to block the gates. While they had abandoned their home, they clearly had hope they would one day return. Seeing as we could spare not the men nor energy to clear the rubble, my forces were made to set up camp outside the castle walls. In the coming days, this nearly proved costly.
We were set upon by a host of crown loyalists, including forces sent by Lady Paramount Cersei. We were outnumbered three-to-one, and were taken completely by surprise. My story might have ended here, had it not been for the timely intervention of some most-welcome allies. A force from the Kingswood, who had started Aegon's war in the first place, arrived, supported by the main Dornish host no less! This gave us a near equal number of troops to our enemy, and my forces rallied at the thought of some swords by their side. The battle raged on for hours, but eventually, we prevailed, though not without loss. My contingent of troops had been near decimation by the time our saviors arrived. Of the initial four thousand men that had left Starfall with me, less than two remained. However much that thought grieved me, a more personal thought troubled me more so. The Darkstar, Lord Gerold, had fallen. My tutor, counsillor and friend was slain in the melee by one Lord Hugo of Crow's Edge. The man had an air of invincibility in life, and to see him dead at my feet pained me to no end. The war is not over yet, Edric. I reminded myself. You must focus, a time will come to grieve for him, but it is not now.
With our victory at Woodmere achieved, our combined forces marched towards our ultimate prize: King's Landing. Should we take the capital, the war would surely be won. Tommen would be put in irons and Aegon crowned as the rightful king. The thought was enough to spur me on, even after the Darkstar's death. We arrived at the capital on the first morning of March, and were met by no army. The forces of the crown were caught up in other conflicts, and had left the capital unattended. We pitched our tents and laid down our arms. The siege of King's Landing had begun, and it would not be a short one.
For all the resources at their disposal, one would have thought the lords of the capital would have some common sense between them. However, this was not the case, as we soon came to find out. The siege was only a few weeks old when the bells began to ring. A royal death, I reminded myself. One could only hope it was the King. As the hours passed, word eventually reached our camp, and the name of the deceased was heard by all.
"The pretender is dead!", the messenger yelled, as to inform every soldier and silent sister within a mile of the news. "The pretender is dead!"
I found myself sinking deep into my chair at the sound of the young man's voice. The boy-King was younger than I was, and I was not one to celebrate the passing of a child, but our enemy was dead. How could I not be somewhat gladdened by the news? We knew the Lannisters would not surrender the throne, regardless of Tommen's death, and we were prepared for that. Myrcella was crowned and our siege continued, but our situation had at least been improved.
A few more weeks had passed since Tommen's death, and I found myself sinking into my chair yet again. This time, not for death, but for life. A few more months and it would have been a year since me and my armies departed Starfall, a long enough time for a child to be produced. My wife Sansa had given birth to a daughter. Her name was to be Cyrenna. A strong name, I thought. The child was healthy and already growing strong like her father, Sansa wrote. I could not give voice to the pride I felt. I had yet to see the child with my own eyes, but I already loved her with all my heart. Children have the oddest of effects on men, do they not?
I had grown accustomed to the rush of battle since my arrival in the Stormlands a year ago. With what seemed like a battle every few days, I had hardly the time to relax for even a moment before being called to arms again. Sieges were a different beast however. Ten months had passed since we set up outside the walls of the Capital, and in those ten months, nothing occurred. I carried out my duties as they were required of me, and retired to my tent as they were not. I had grown tired of this drawn-out affair, and my mind wandered towards the thought of it's end. The end, I feared, would not come soon though. King's Landing was the capital of the Seven Kingdoms, and a siege outside it's walls would be no swift event. Lord Stannis had held Storm's End for two years during the war of the Usurper. How long would the capital hold? The thought proved futile however, when news reached our position that a royal host of some ten-thousand men was marching nearby. I had understood that the best course of action would to maintain the siege, and ignore the force, for the time being. My Dornish compatriots did not see eye-to-eye with me however. The bulk of the besieging force, some ten thousand men, broke camp and gave chase to the royal army. With only my two thousand swords remaining, I could not hold a siege. A year of effort, abandoned on a whim.
Through his marriage to his aunt, Daenerys, King Aegon had allied himself with the Meereenese, and, for once, their forces were a welcome site in Westeros. I attached myself to a larger force from Meereen, and together we numbered over twelve thousand strong. We engaged a force from the Westerlands at Greensward in early January, and had them routed by the end of the month. The following months entailed us running down the fleeing army, engaging them at any chance we could. The pursuit inflicted heavy casualties on their forces and prompted a desperate stand from them at Crystalmere. During the battle, I found myself face to face with Lord Taubert of the Gold Road. We prepared to face one another when another man entered the fray. Podrick Payne was his name, the famed squire of Lord Tyrion Lannister. Now a man in his own right, he stood before his liege lord and stared me down instead. I commended the man's courage, but that would not prevent me from killing him. At the end of the day, our forces were victorious, the Westerlander army wiped out, and Podrick Payne and Lord Taubert lay dead at my feet.
As a child, all I could think of was the glory of battle and the honor to be won on the field. Now, in the thick of it all, the thought made my stomach turn. As I wiped the blood from my sword, exhausted and pained by the day's fighting, I found myself lost in thought again. It wasn't a dream full of twists and turns, no. It was far more simple. Oh what I would give to be sitting in a siege again.
The battle of Crystalmere had strengthened our foothold in the Crownlands considerably. It gave us a strong base of operations, a place at which King Aegon's allies could convene at any time. The months following the battle entailed clearing the surrounding countryside of our enemy. We had taken most of the Southern Crownlands, and marched on the last remaining stronghold of the region: Woodmere.
We had won a victory at Woodmere earlier on in the war, but found it unsuitable to maintain as a base of operations. Eventually, an army from the Neck occupied the fort and held it for Queen Myrcella. The Crannogmen lived their lives in the thick marshes of their homelands, and were accustomed to the damaged and ruinous terrain that Woodmere presented. To the Crannogmen, Woodmere was arguably a step up in accommodations.
Our forces arrived in the hills outside of Woodmere in early November, and we made camp at the crest of the largest mound. From there, we had a strong vantage point of the ruined keep, and the Crannogmen that held it. To besiege the castle would be pointless, the Crannogmen were heralded for their defensive abilities. Seldom had an army marched into the North, in large thanks due to the swamp-dwellers. They knew their lands well, while others did not. Woodmere suited these men well, and it would be too much like their homelands for us to make a direct assault. No. We needed them to meet us in the field.
It was the middle of November, in the year 311 after the Landing, when the white banner appeared atop the keep of Woodmere. They desired a parley. I obliged them, and rode forth from our camp, with only Lord Matarys by my side. We waited in the field for a moment, our eyes focused on the small, makeshift door the defenders had dug out of the rock. In a matter of minutes, two riders emerged, carrying a banner all too familiar to my eyes. I had never seen it in person, but every lord in the Red Mountains knew the sigil. A black lizard-lion on a field of grey-green. They were Reed men.
The riders approached, both hooded and lightly armored. These were not knights of the South, but mudmen of the North. Heavy plate would weight them down. They wore simple leather armor with a small shirt of mail visible beneath their cloaks. As they approached, one rider pulled down his hood to reveal the face of an old man. His body was small but strong, and his face carried on it the stories of countless battles and conflicts. It was evident his passion for warfare, if he ever had any at all, had long since abandoned him.
"I am Edric, third of my name, Lord of-"
"I know who you are, boy." Replied the hoodless man. His voice, rough and weathered, was that of a leader. "Even in my old age I can recognize the face of a Dayne."
It was at that moment that I understood the situation fully. This was no mere captain, but Howland Reed himself. The man responsible for my uncle's death those many years ago. He had come for me.
"By the look on your face, I gather you know who I am, boy?" He said.
I was four and twenty now, a man-grown for nearly ten years, and still he insisted upon calling me 'boy'. No honor then, no honor now, I thought to myself.
"I do, Lord Howland." Came my reply. "Have you come to surrender to me, personally, my lord?"
I knew that was not his intention, but I asked regardless. I wanted to hear the words from him.
"No, boy, I have come to offer you a choice. Let us settle this as men, you and I. Should I fall, my forces will leave and return home to the walls of the Greywater, but should you fall, your army must do the same."
Personal combat. I had this chance, this one chance, to avenge my uncle's death and remove the stain from my family's history. Not only that, but my actions could save the lives of my men, and the men of the swamps that I bore no ill-will towards. It was their lord I had issue with... How could I refuse? I nodded, signaling my agreement of his terms, and turned to return to my tent to prepare. As my horse cantered away, I heard Lord Howland's voice bellow one last insult towards me.
"Perhaps you might succeed where your Lord-uncle failed, boy".
The Crannogman stood across the field from me in the very same armor he wore to our parley. His weapon of choice was a spear, more akin to a fishing tool than a weapon of war, with its double-tooth blade. He carried no shield and donned no helm. Swift and deadly was the style of the Crannogmen, and their liege lord was no different. I found myself wondering if his spear could even pierce my thick plate armor, but I knew that I would soon find out.
We stood apart from one another by twenty paces or so. There was no bell to be tolled, nor horn to be blown. The fight would start on its own accord. Lord Howland took the first step, slowly and cautiously advancing towards my position. He quickened his pace considerably has he advanced directly towards me. I stood my ground, knowing my ability to counter his movements was my key to victory. While the lord of the swamps was old, there was no out-pacing a Crannogman. As he neared me, he thrust his spear towards my helm, which I sidestepped away from and circled back towards him. I have to weather his attack, and wait for an opening, I reminded myself.
The fight wore on, as blow after blow from the Lord of the Neck landed against my shield and my armor. It was not enough to puncture my plate, but it pained me nonetheless. Enough of them would down me eventually, and I was weary of that. As Lord Howland thrust at my side, I spotted an opening on his left, and slashed at him with my sword. I had torn his leather armor slightly, but not enough to cut flesh. Taking advantage of this moment, I continued my attack, throwing blow after blow upon the smaller man. He was devilishly quick, and parried most of my attacks with the body of his spear, but one found its mark. Having launched my attack towards his head and torso, I changed levels and slashed at his lead leg. The high lord did not expect this, and my blade left a long mark across his thigh. The elderly warrior grimaced in pain, but knew instantly it was not enough to kill him, and continued with his efforts.
We danced the dance of death for a few more minutes, countering and returning blows for what seemed like an age. Our bodies were tired, and in the case of Lord Howland, bloodied, but we knew we could not stop. One misstep would result in either of our deaths. As I stepped back for a moment to regain any semblance of stamina, the head of House Reed launched a frenzied assault on me. He swung low to my left with his spear, which I parried with my blade, then made a heavy thrust towards my midsection. The spear missed its mark and passed through the air between my side and my shield. I looked to my left, noticing what had transpired, and threw my shield arm at my body in an instant, locking the weapon, and its master, in place.
Our eyes met, as we both understood the gravity of the situation we found ourselves in. With little hesitation, I thrust my blade forwards and up, and felt the puncture of leather and flesh thereafter. I pulled Lord Howland in close as I drove my blade up through his belly. His eyes widened and his mouth gasped as the life left his body. With a single push, I withdrew my sword from the Lord of the Neck, who fell to the floor, lifeless. It was done.
All was silent for a moment. For those who watched the melee ensue from a distance, it would have been unclear who had been stabbed as we came together for the last time. When Lord Howland's body crashed to the floor however, a mighty roar came from the ranks behind me. Through my efforts, I had won the day, and saved the lives of my men. I sheathed my blade and looked to the sky.
"For you, uncle".
After my victory over Howland Reed at Woodmere, my forces returned to our garrison at Crystalmere. The Stormlands and most of the Southern Crownlands were in our control, and the passage from Dorne now secure. As such, my family rode from Starfall to spend a few weeks at our camp. It wasn't the luxurious accommodations that my Lady Sansa deserved, but it would do. To see my family again was a welcome reward for my years of fighting. Before her leave, my wife informed me that she was once again with child. It was to be my fourth, and we sat a while discussing names. We decided that should it be a girl, her name would be Elara, but naming a son was far more difficult. Sansa suggested Arthur, or even Gerold, in honor of my fallen kin, but although the thought flattered me, my preference lied further North.
"Eddard." I suggested to her, as we sat in my tent one evening.
My lady-wife smiled at me, ran her hands through my hair, and repeated the name. "Eddard. Little Ned Dayne."
Eddard was born in the first days of February, in the year 312 AL. From the letter she wrote, my wife said he had all the characteristics of his father. My fourth child had resulted in another son for House Dayne. While I was overjoyed for my personal reasons, my thoughts drifted to greater lengths. A second son meant another branch in our tree. While my son Olyvar, nearly ten years old, would be my heir and continue the line of House Dayne at Starfall, Ned would carry the name elsewhere, not unlike the Darkstar.
With the thought of another son heavy on my mind, we marched to battle once again. By mid June, we had reached Langwar Hall, and were set upon by a host from the Vale. Bronze Yohn Royce led the armies of the Eyrie, and they took us by surprise in the dead of night. My forces were routed, and few of us survived the slaughter. It was my first real defeat of the war, and pained me to no end. While my actions at Woodmere had saved the lives of my soldiers, my lapses here had come at the cost of most of their lives. I started this war with four thousand men. Now, only two hundred remain. Those of us still alive joined with a small force of similar size, led by one Ser Boras. While no longer a large enough force to directly assault our enemy's armies, we could harass them and at least slow their advances. And so we did.
After many months of harassing our enemy, Ser Boras received word that we were to reconvene with a larger force at Crow's Nest in the Stormlands. There, we attached ourselves to the army of Ser Spencer, and I spent the next three years at the side of the man. Ser Spencer and I became close quickly. We shared common interests, and the last seven or so years had provided us with a host of stories to share with one another. I fought beside him in his vanguard on many occasions, through victory and defeat. In February of 315 however, we were heavily defeated at the battle of Dalston Keep. Our force was cut in half in a day of fighting, and we were forced to flee West and regroup in the wilderness. It was after the defeat at Dalston Keep, and our retreat West, that I finally met the man.
"My King." I said, as I bowed lowed and rose again.
He was a few years older than me, and unequivocally a Targaryen. They say Prince Rhaegar was the most handsome man in the Seven Kingdoms, and staring his son in the face made me inclined to believe them. He was a tall man, broad of shoulder, and carried himself in a way expected of a king.
"Lord Edric, your uncle served my family well for many years, and died for our cause. I would be honored to call you my friend and ally."
The King's words were music to my ears. All these years I've waited for the return of the king. All these years have I dreamed of the day I could fight by your side. I thought the words, but did not speak them. They were the thoughts of a young boy long since gone from this world, but I believed in them all the same.
From that moment on, I fought in King Aegon's royal host, and remained there for the rest of the war. The battle of Amberly was where I first fought alongside my king. We engaged the army of Bronze Yohn that had defeated me earlier in the war, but the story would not tell the same tale twice. After the fighting was done, the King spoke to me in private, informing me that my actions had great consequences, unbeknownst to me.
"We could have lost today Edric. It could very well have been Yohn Royce having this conversation right now, but alas, it is between you and I."
"How could we lose when we had our rightful king to follow?" I said.
"The men did not follow Aegon of House Targaryen today, but Edric, of House Dayne."
The King's words shocked me. Me? What does he mean, me? My thoughts were clearly told by the gestures of my face, as King Aegon answered me without me even uttering a word.
"They saw you cut off from our forces Edric. They say you fought like The Warrior himself, slaying a dozen men singlehandedly before returning to our lines to push forward once more. They followed you."
Two years after my apparent heroics at Amberly, the fate of the Seven Kingdoms was decided at Dalston Keep. A combined Lannister and Tully force held the keep, and would not give it up so easily. When our siege weapons were ready, King Aegon led the charge, with my sword by his side. We took the outer walls of the castle within hours, and pushed the defenders back to the inner courtyard. There, a violent melee ensued, and at the end of it all, our forces were victorious. With the last remaining holdfast in the Crownlands taken, Queen Myrcella surrendered the throne. It was the thirteenth day of May, in the year 318 after Aegon's Landing. One hundred and nineteen months, and six days, since I left Starfall. Ten years. The war would forever after be known as the Decade of Death.
Aegon was crowned shortly thereafter, and the House of Targaryen restored to the Iron throne, nearly four decades since the War of the Usurper. I was present at Aegon's coronation, and we remained close, even after the war. The King had offered me a seat on his small council, but I politely refused him.
"The capital is no place for me, your Grace." I told him. "I belong in Starfall. I belong with my family."
"As you wish, Edric. But remember, you will always be welcome in my halls."
Those were the last words Aegon said to me before my departure for Starfall. Myself, and the remainder of my forces boarded our ships, and set out on the long sail home. The journey gave me plenty of time to reminisce. I was a boy of one and twenty when the war started, and a man of one and thirty now that it was done. The war had made my body hard and my mind sharp, and for that, I was thankful. But I had seen death, too much death, more than any man need see in a lifetime. The thoughts of those I had slain personally weighed heavily on my mind too. There were dozens of men that fell to my blade that had no name of note, and names that I would never know. But the blood of many a highborn stained my blade as well, I reminded myself. I had avenged the death of my uncle by driving my sword through the belly of Howland Reed. I defeated both Lord Taubert and his bodyguard, Podrick Payne, years ago at Crystalmere. There was Lady Alysanne of the Golden Tooth, Ser Edmund of Wickenden, Lord Konral of Dalston Keep, and even a Septon, one Criston of Runestone. I knew then that the names of these men and women would never leave my thoughts, and nor should they. The Darkstar had told me a story once, of a conversation he shared with the Sword of the Morning.
"Never forget the names of the men you kill, Gerold", my uncle had told him. "For though their bodies may be gone, their names shall live on. Honor them as such." I will.
Sorry to anyone who is bothered by two chapters so close together. Chapter VII was supposed to be a bit of a bridge between the first and second halves of the war, and so to me, it didn't feel all too much like a big update, even though it's similar in lengths to the rest.
Anywho, the ninth and final chapter will be out some time tomorrow, and then I'll be starting my next AAR.
I hope everyone's enjoyed this one, and I hope to see some of you for the next one. Adios for now!
This has been a nice run to read. Dayne isn't exactly a commonly played house but it's interesting to see where this might end. And it's close too, so I'll just sit and wait. Not literally mind, but you get the idea.
Though, the images for chapter 8 aren't showing and from what I can tell it's a 403 error. Just wanted to inform you.
This has been a nice run to read. Dayne isn't exactly a commonly played house but it's interesting to see where this might end. And it's close too, so I'll just sit and wait. Not literally mind, but you get the idea.
Though, the images for chapter 8 aren't showing and from what I can tell it's a 403 error. Just wanted to inform you.
That's odd. Would you, or anyone else for that matter, be able to check if they're not showing up in any other chapters? On my screen, I still see all of the pictures.
By the way, as a person who is pretty much new to anything forum-like, am I doing something wrong with regards to this? I may just be paranoid/jealous, but I feel like this isn't getting seen by anyone.
Again, it might just be me wanting to be king of the world or something, but any information helps.
I've only had a few tries with AARs and never really gone that far with them but have read a few that I really enjoyed and I agree with volsmarschall tbh. Im relatively new to paradox, having joined the community around EU3, but just looking at the AARs out there right now comments are far less frequent than they were just a year ago. I think there is a tendency for people to ghost read, my Spartan AAR has something like 3 people commenting in it and 900 views, per active commenter thats 300 views XD. Also I like the narrative of your AAR but all the image links are broken for me :/
I was trying to clear up the clutter on my Imageshack account, so I deleted all of the pictures I had already put into the chapters. Apparently, my moronic brain forgot the pictures were all hyperlinks to the pictures on Imageshack.
Needless to say, I'm fixing the problem as we speak. :rofl:
Throughout the duration of the war, those of us still in Starfall had received monthly reports from the Darkstar about the army's activities in the Stormlands and Crownlands, and following his death, from Lord Matarys. These reports came in the form of letters, carried to our walls by ravens, and were sometimes accompanied by more personal letters from husbands or lovers fighting in the war. I had last seen my husband when the passage into the Stormlands was deemed safe, and a convoy of nobles, septas and courtiers made the journey to Crystalmere a few years into the war. A letter arrived from him with the, what would turn out to be, the final monthly report:
Transcription:
Dearest wife,
At long last the war is over. King Aegon has been crowned and the realm knows peace for the first time in a decade. As I write this, men are loading cargo onto our ships, preparing for the voyage back to the Western shores of Dorne. The journey should take us no more than a week or two, should the wind be on our side. How I long to hold you in my arms again, and to hold tight our children once more. I'm coming home.
With all my love,
Edric
I re-read the letter as I sat at my seat in the great hall of Starfall, awaiting his arrival. Stood beside me were Edric's children, the two birthed from my own womb, and Olyvar, the one who was not. Olyvar would one day succeed his father as Lord of Starfall, but I held no love for the boy. I raised him as my own son, for the love I bore his father, but he was nearly a man-grown now, and would no longer require my care. Regardless, it was my two children that I held most dear in this world. It should have been three children, but for the death of my daughter, Mellei, inside my womb. Cyrenna, a girl of nine, and Ned, a boy of six stood next to me.
The two were restless, eagerly awaiting their father's return. Cyrenna had seen her father once before, when we visited the garrison at Crystalmere. She was only three then, but her memory served her well. She could recall her father's face. His voice. She had only met him once, but she knew the man that would soon be walking through the doors ahead. Ned however, had never met his father, and was somewhat resentful of that fact. He yearned for a father figure in his life. To teach him how to hold a sword, and how to use it. To tell him stories of brave warriors from distant lands, and to tell him of how to protect those he loved. While he was still a boy, and there were many years yet to come, time had been lost. Time that could not be taken back.
Aside from his children, Edric's vassals were waiting in the hall as well. Lord Gerold's son and heir, Ulrick, his Lady-mother Elia, and Lord Matarys. Edric had insisted upon overseeing the last of his men and supplies leaving the ships at port, and so he sent Lord Matarys ahead to greet us. The small council was present, as were a few other highborn nobles. All in all, there were maybe thirty of us in the room, awaiting the return of our liege lord. Those of us present had discussed a particular topic at length, and filled in Lord Matarys upon his arrival. The man offered no words, but merely nodded in agreement with our decision.
That was when he finally entered. Clad in silver and purple silks, a tall, handsome and commanding figure emerged from the doorway. Without a moment's notice, Cyrenna and Ned bolted for the door, and hugged their father with all their might. Olyvar approached more cordially, as one would expect from a man, no less a future high lord. A few others greeted our lord before he came to me. I cupped his worn, yet still handsome, face in my hand, and smiled.
"It's good to see you." He said, before planting a kiss on my lips. "I've missed you."
I gestured him towards his seat at the end of the hall. "Go sit, Edric. You've had a long journey, and an even longer war. Sit down and relax a moment while we talk."
My lord husband heeded my words, and sat upon the large oak chair, before letting out a large sigh and sinking a few inches in the seat.
"We have news, my love." I said to him. "News that you need to hear."
While it was not meant so, my husband took it as a reason to be alarmed, and corrected his posture not moments after he had slumped down to relax.
"News?"
"Yes, don't worry, nothing bad has happened, we've just come to an important decision while you were away, and thought you should hear it."
The members of the small council, the few lords present and every Dayne in the room stepped forward, as to stand directly in front of my lord-husband.
"I came to these halls twelve years ago, and ever since that moment, I have watched you grow into the man you are today."
Edric smiled at me, and I returned the courtesy before continuing.
"You are an honorable man Edric. A profound warrior and revered leader on the battlefield. Your rule is just and as such, your word is law. Your family, your lords, your people, love you."
These words peaked Edric's curiosity, and he sat up, not alarmed, but intrigued by what I had to say.
I gestured to Lord Matarys, who had stood further to the back of the group, and waved him forward.
"This is for you, my old friend." The gruff, old knight said. There was a tear in his eye, but I'd wager the man would never admit to it. Edric stood up and looked at what Matarys had laid out on the table. A silken cloth of purple laid on the table, with an easily distinguishable object wrapped inside. Edric removed the cloth to reveal a blade of the utmost magnificence. The blade was pure white, and in the light of the sun, seemingly glowed with a violet hew. The crossguard was ornately decorated with a silver star, and the pommel with a large purple sapphire the size of a gold dragon. Edric let out a small gasp before reaching down to grab hold of the blade.
"Kneel." Said Matarys, in a commanding yet reassuring tone. My lord-husband dropped to one knee before the word had fully left Lord Matarys' lips. Edric held the pommel of the sword with his hands, rested the tip of the blade on the stone floor, and bowed his head.
"Edric, third of your name, Lord of Starfall and the Red Mountains, I present to you, Dawn!". Matarys continued. "Carried last by Arthur, only those deemed most worthy are fit to wield the ancestral blade of House Dayne. You, Edric Dayne, have proven yourself worthy of Dawn, and the title that follows."
Edric remained on one knee, but had now raised his head to meet Lord Matarys' gaze.
"Rise with the sun, for you are the Sword of the Morning."
I've only had a few tries with AARs and never really gone that far with them but have read a few that I really enjoyed and I agree with volsmarschall tbh. Im relatively new to paradox, having joined the community around EU3, but just looking at the AARs out there right now comments are far less frequent than they were just a year ago. I think there is a tendency for people to ghost read, my Spartan AAR has something like 3 people commenting in it and 900 views, per active commenter thats 300 views XD. Also I like the narrative of your AAR but all the image links are broken for me :/
From time to time, ghost readers make their 'presence' known. It would just be nice from the author's POV that they might pop in and leave a comment a little bit more regularly. But even people who comment regularly, sometimes, don't have much to say. Sometimes I'll go several updates without saying something. The per usual, "good update" otherwise seems redundant than offering a more thoughtful comment, but I guess, any comment is better than none!
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BTW, I do like the added element of the 'ancient' letter in the post. And you were kind enough to provide a translation thereof! A fitting way to end. Congratulations!
Excellent short AAR. I've got a fondness for House Dayne that is only matched by the lack of attention and love they have in the series, so I'm glad to see someone gave them a proper go of things. Dayne & Targaryen fighting together to crown the One True King (so to speak) was just too sweet. Edric really grew as well from start to finish, though I was surprised to see Darkstar so integral to Edric's formative years. The butcher's bill as well went from awesome to funny to awesome again when you did in Reed at the last, but all in all really nice stuff!
If that is indeed the end, sad not to see what could have happened next. A good read which was written well, helping to keep me interested. The choice of House was also definitely cool, and reminded me it can be much more fun to play as a smaller Lord. Good job!
