Release the Kraken - A Greyjioy AAR [Game of Thrones mod}

[Marfell]

Release the Kraken - A Greyjioy AAR [Game of Thrones mod][War of Conquest]

Release the Kraken ​

NSFW warning: NB. May be very brutal as I am attempting to stay true to the ASOIAF setting that GRRM have created. Keep in mind that you might come over topics that you may not find suiting such as slavery, sex, extreme violence and harsh word use, or other things that one may find in his universe.

​

Setting: The setting that I have gone with is the Greyjoy in 8000, at the War of Conquest by Aegon Targ. The Ironborn owns all of the Trident and the Iron Isles at this time, however loose it within the year to either Aegon or a Tully rebellion. This will be the inspiration of my Greyjoy of how they rose to power as they start as dukes of Pyke, as well as what their goal is. After seeing the defeat of their craven king at the battle of Harrenhall where the Iron Born king sadly were spared and returned to the island, claiming one of the islands from the Greyjoys.

Goal: Is to either take over the costal areas on the Westside and/or North, restore the Iron Born kingdom to its former glory, except for the Crownlands. May attempt to go for the Iron Throne itself, however not sure asit is very hard to get any marriages or such outside of the realm due to different religion and culture.

Difficulty: Very Hard

House Rules:

- Always take the Salt Wifes.
- Always marry Iron born, unless rank is landed duchess or higher.
- Roleplay your characters according to their traits and the Iron Born culture.
- Prisoners will be granted freedom either by calling a champion to fight for their cause, the Lord must always fight the battles himself unless too young.
- No reload, unless game crashes. Then I will resume from last autosave.
- No shit talk about the Boltons and the Martell
- If unsure what my character would pick, use a dice.

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This is my first AAR, and I am not a native speaker of English, nor far from a good writer. However this is my attempt to become better at writing and roleplay. It will be quite a change to go over to this kind of roleplay, as I am more used to the master/slavery setting where I can play either.

I am a potent player in CK2, however not sure how potent I will be in this setting as the GoT mod adds a lot of new cool features, now one may even fight dragons. God it is nothing better than taking your 83 year old dornish queen and slay a dragon in the Princes Pass.

As for the ASOIAF universe, it has been quite some time since I last read the books. So forgive me if I am not the best at the universe, and as you might have guessed my favourite house Bolton and Martell. However the reason for picking the Greyjoy was something simple as dice roll. However I think they will be quite awesome to play, as they are one of the few cultures in Westeros that stays true to their nature.

On another note, anyone that knows how one may enlarge images. Seems like something that might be decent to know before starting the AAR.

 

[Deaghaidh]

Interesting choice. I suppose you're hoping that your liege dies as he does canonically, leaving you as LP of the Iron Islands?

Also, House Bolton sucks. As far as second-tier Northerners go, it's Manderlay or the Highway!

 

[Marfell]

Chapter 1, The squids at Harrenhal

[video=youtube;-4PC451UEhU]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-4PC451UEhU[/video]
A vid for those that want to gaze on some artwork from the ASOIAF universe.
​

The master came toward the man on the wooden chair who gazed through the empty halls on Pyke, the ancestral chair of his dynasty. The master had reached his prime at the age of 33, he stood strong and was a skilled fighter, just like his brothers. However he had gone to Oldtown to become a master while he was young and hair did not grow upon his chin, however after many years and many chains later he was granted his first office as the master of Vickon Greyjoy, the lord of Pyke and a man who claimed to be decedents of the Grey King. He had been slightly fascinated by the Heros from the Age of Heros, the one that the Ironborn found pride in was the Grey king. In the scrolls in Oldtown the legend was written down:

The legends say that the god of the Iron Isle, the Drowned God helped the Grey King to slay Nagga, a sea dragon. It was a powerful creature that was capable to feed on leviathans and krakens, there are also those that claimed that the creature was capable of drowning islands if it was angered. The Grey King with the help of the Drowned god slayed her at the shroes of Old Wyk. To humiliate the creature once more after its life had departed from this world he had taken her bones and built his ancestral hall, the teethes became a crown that rested upon his head while he sat on his throne, made of her jaw. Even after death her fire was alive and warmed his halls, until the day he died and the Storm god, the eternal enemy of the Drowned God drowned the fire and the waves took back the throne. The only thing that is left now is the pillar of the hall and the Greyjoy dynasty that claims to be decedents.

Vickon was just as old as the the master, not tall like the master himself. However he was a person that managed to use his wit faster than most others, he never fought with swords even thought it was the weapon of the noble. The weapon he used rested beside him as he sat and gazed at the approaching master, an axe. “Lord, a raven with dark wings have arrived from Harrenhal, our liege lord Harren Hoare has called us to fend off a army invading from the east. The scouts report that it does not number much more than a few thousand soldiers. All of them seems to have silver-white hair, apparently decadence of Valyria. However as we know it was destroyed long ago. If you see any river men you are to slay them. A Tully lord along with all of the other river lords has raised their banners in rebellion. Vickon gazed upon the master for some time before eventually granting him a nod. “Summon my troops and prepare the ships, we have to sail up the river until we are deep inside the Trident. “ A woman about the same age as the lord looked upon him. “Will you do honour to the drowned god?” she said while her lips parted, she was not dressed in anything more than a brown wool dress. She had never managed to pay the iron price and her husband, the lord of Pyke would not bother granting her anything better, even thought she had produced him two children; a boy and a daughter. “I will honour the Drowned God by slaying his foes, taking their wifes and daughter by force. Those river lords will bend their knee and the silver haired ones will be killed upon dry ground, they will never unite with the Drowned God.”

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Lord Vickon Greyjoy had been true to his words, as he and his bannermen of close to two thousand spears, six hundred archers, and thousand axe men sailed up the river they pillaged and burnt down the houses of the foolish rivermen, those who were caught was taken by force before being beheaded or hanged.

The host of the Iron Born stood outside the halls of Harrenhal and numbered up to sixteen thousand men. On the other side of the field the rivermen prepared for the fight that was upon them, their force numbered eighteen thousand and more men made their way to the field, however they were no ironborn who learned to swing their axe before they were done to drink milk from their mothers bosom. The warhorn sounded and the skirmish started, the King held the center while Lord Vickon held his right flank and a mere baron the left flank. The archers walked forward and prepared the bow, exchanging some arrows before the horn was blown once more and the spear men and the axemen took up their weapons and screamed in anger, producing nothing but mere noise that could be heard all over the field.

The sun had set and the armies where still fighting each other, however it seems like the ironborn might win, if only a pyrrhic victory. The king of the Iron Islands had received an axe blow in the arm, cutting it off and leaving him maimed, he had fled the field to recover while leaving his banner men to fight. The green field was red and if one fell one would be covered, it ran toward the river close by. The sight only encouraged the iron born to fight more, if they died at least the Drowned God would taste their blood, all rivers lead to the ocean. Vickon Greyjoy shouted for the troops to gather around him, however his words could not be heard. All around the fighting armies fire erupted from the sky before men came running out of the forest toward them. One of the creature that had spread the fire landed in the field and opened its mouth to roar, spilling its fire upon those in front of it. A woman sat upon its back and laughed at the sight.

The fire at Harrenhal
​

It had taken weeks to get back after the defeat at Harrenhal the king had fled like a craven and demanded one of Vickons islands in exchange for the “failure” he had led them into. Vickon had protested against it, and shouted that they should had stayed within the castle of Harrenhal. After all it was the strongest castle in all of Westeros, yet it had burned when the dragons lead by Aegon and his sister spilled its flames upon it. Eventually Vickon accepted it, the two men parted with bad blood among them. The king was a craven and surrendered the castle of Harrenhal and all of the lands of the Trident to house Tully, before swearing fealty toward the Dragonlord. It was clear that the king was not fit to rule anymore…

The new liege of the king of the Iron Island, now the King of the Iron Throne. Aegon the conquererand his sister-wifes.​

 

[Marfell]

I will attempt to write a longer one tomorrow, kind of got caught up in a MP match of CK2, damn I want a CK2 rp MP game... Anyways tomorrow will be a longer and better post with more pictures from the actual game.

Also if anyone know how one may fix the picture size I would be very grateful as it looks quite messy until it is fixed, sadly.


@Deaghaidh: Manderlay?! The Gardeners should have slayed all of them when they had the chance. However I suppose we may find out what happens when one flay a mereman... hopefully... Anyways aslong as you do not wave the Stark banner around in my face you are good.

 

[Deaghaidh]

I will attempt to write a longer one tomorrow, kind of got caught up in a MP match of CK2, damn I want a CK2 rp MP game... Anyways tomorrow will be a longer and better post with more pictures from the actual game.

Also if anyone know how one may fix the picture size I would be very grateful as it looks quite messy until it is fixed, sadly.


@Deaghaidh: Manderlay?! The Gardeners should have slayed all of them when they had the chance. However I suppose we may find out what happens when one flay a mereman... hopefully... Anyways aslong as you do not wave the Stark banner around in my face you are good.

Would you care for a meat pie?

 

[Marfell]

"...so long as it's not one of those golden peacocks who'd rather fuck their mirror than their lady!"

 

[Marfell]

Chapter 2, A battle for the craven​

Lord Vickon sat in his throne room once more and gazed over some of the banners he had taken during the fighting in the Trident earlier; it was banners from House Frey, the Tullies and some lesser lords of no worth. Vickon was angry two of his lord bannermen had fallen and he had inherited their castles , yet he did not desire such things. His gaze rested upon the crown of the Iron Islands, that currently rested upon the craven kings head. His wife sat beside him on a lower chair, a plain one with a plump rear, wide hips and thick thighs: perfect for carrying healthy children. Once again she was with child and her body was stained by producing five other children. The lord had started to seek warmth in the arms of others instead of his wife. She had produced him three more children since he returned from the Trident five years ago. None of them who seemed gifted in anything except for the youngest pup, a woman who seemed to be quick with her mind. Lord Vickon spent much time with her, teaching her how to swing the axe, one day he would learn her how to man a ship and she would be able to command it as well as any other man on the islands. The master broke the silence between the Lord and his wife as he hurried over the empty great hall toward the lord and his wife. “Lord! The raven bring dire words! The high lord of Great Wyk have raised his banners in rebellion, demanding independence. Your lord paramount Harren Hoare demands that you aid him in the battle to come.” Lord Vickon rested his eyes upon the man, while his wife spoke “King Harren “the Craven”? Do not help him husband, weaken him before you claim his throne. He took the lordship of Orkmoat from you after losing his land. He is not worthy of your men, let the rebels win.” Lord Vickon rose from his chair and walked over toward his wife, he took hold of her jaw and forced her to gaze at him. “You want me to rule over half a kingdom?” he asked before smacking her across the face, afterwards he turned his attention toward the master. “Send the ravens to my bannermen, we are going to Great Wyk.” His wife laid on the ground beside her seat and cursed her husband beneath her breath.

Lord Vickon stood upon the deck of his ship “Red Salt” while holding his axe above his head and waving it around. He shouted with all his might so his words could be heard by the men upon his ship and the sixty other ships that followed them as the sailed toward the beach of Hammerhorn: the capital of their enemy Highlord Torwold “the Reckless” of the Goodbrother dynasty. “We are to fight Iron Islanders today, and slay them in the field of honour. If you fall today you are granted a honour, as you fall upon the Great Wyk. The blood of our foes will be spilt on the muddy ground, yet it will flow down into the salty ocean and be reunited with the Drowned God!” the men cheered at the words of the lord. Vickon gazed over at the men who roared , while a smile craved its way upon his face. He had a silver tongue and he knew it, even poor speeches like this had his bannermen shout his name.

​

The battle was short and his men slaughtered the enemy before starting their siege on the castle of Hammerhorn. Lord Vickon and his men had outnumbered the foes seven to one, most of the enemies had been slaughtered at the field of honor or fled. As he walked along the beach where the seventy ship laid anchored he gazed over some robed men whos robe was made of old grey wool and the men themselves was covered in sea weed and smelt of salt. They were priests of the Drowned God. One of robed men held a jug in his hands and poured the content of the jug above the man while shouting: "Let Pate Wynch your servant be born again from the sea, as you were. Bless him with salt, bless him with stone, bless him with steel." The young man replied as the salt water poured over his head: What is dead may never die." The priest finished to pour the salt water from the jug above the mans head, when he was done he replied: "What is dead may never die, but rises again, harder and stronger.” Lord Vickon gazed upon the priests and those who received the blessing of the Drowned God. Most of those who recived the blessing were maimed for life by the battle that had occurred or either young men who had just fought in their first battle and maybe killed their first man.

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Lord Paramount Harren`s eyes narrowed as he gazed down upon the Highlord of Great Wyk as he knelt before Harren and his men. “I swear my alligence to you, Lord.” He eventually managed to produce after gritting his teethes together for a while, the words were shallow and meant nothing. Everyone who was there could understand it, except for the Lord Paramount himself who accepted the offer as well as a chest from the Highlords treasure cave. Lord Vicken himself shook his head at the sight. Many of the bannermen were disappointed and angry that they had been called to fight in this little battle. Lord Vicken opened his mouth and spoke: “I came here to show the young ones how one fight in the ring of honour. This was no battle that is worthy of telling, this was a battle for cravens and old. I am taking my men and going raving in the Slaver`s bay. Any lord who want to come with me will do me great honour by joining me, we shall return with coin and new wealth and our foes shall pay the iron price.” Many of the men that was gathered started shouting and the Lord Paramount trembled of anger as he heard the words spoken. How dared this man question his strength in front of his bannermen?! He raised his voice eventually “I will come with you, Greyjoy. Let us see if you are as capable as the man your house claim their origins from.” Lord Vickon gazed upon him and eventually granted him a nod, while being grateful for his beard that hid his frown. “It shall be my honour.”

Lord Vickon sent a black raven to Pyke before setting sail from Great Wyk with the ships of his bannermen and the ships of the lord of Old Wyk and Lord Paramount of the Iron Island.

 

[scholar]

I'm curious what the map has to say, if you don't mind showing it?

You are a better writer than you think. I only have a couple of minor complaints and am eager to see what happens next. When do you think Harren will be kicked off the seastone chair?

 

[Marfell]

Chapter 3 , The squid becomes a Kraken
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Coast of Westeros, 8005

They had followed the coast along the west beside the coast of the westerlands, sailing past Lannisport who was ruled by the King of Casterly Rock himself, however the Lion was fighting along with Lord Paramount Tully of Riverrun against the tyranny of Aegon the conquer and his sister-wifes. In truth they frowned upon the relationship between brother and sister. The Lord Paramount of the Iron Island did not seem to care much for what was happening there, the only thing he seemed to care for was to sail infront of Lord Vickon himself, to show who was the leader of this raving party for Slaver`s Bay, some of the ships that the High Lord of Great Wyk had lagged behind before setting the course for somewhere else, it left Vickon restless yet he had to concern himself on the task that he had shouted that he would take on while being at Great Wyk. The lord stood with spread legs on the deck of his ship: “Red Salt”. The Drowned Man of Pyke, a priest of the Drowned God made his way up to the Lord daily. Every time the envoy of the Drowned God saw a place of interest he had to tell about it. “That is Casterly Rock, where Lann the Clever tricked House Casterly to give up their ancestral lands somehow. Since then time the Lannisters have ruled as kings of the Rock, their time will soon be over with the dragon blight upon their back.” He said while they passed Casterly Rock. “That is the shields, the Gardener king bestowed the lands of the four islands to different lords so they could fend off raiders who wanted to claim the iron price. If you sail up Mander you will come to Highgarden, the ancestral seat of house Gardener.” When the sun sat high upon the sky and the lands beside the ground was covered in dust the priest came up toward the lord once more. “This is Do-“ the man received a mailed fist in his face and fell upon the deck before Vickon. Vickon cared little for the curses from the priest, his gaze was fixated upon the ship of Harren Hoare who refused to fall behind Lord Vickon and his “Red Salt”, for weeks now it had been in front of him and he felt the humiliation every day.

​

On Pyke, 8005, late on the year:


“I am too clai-“ the young man recived a smack across the face by his mentor, an ironborn who worked as the spymaster of Vickon, a friend since the battle at Harrenhal that had ended in a great defeat for the ironborn. Just like many of the ironborn he muttered words about rebellion against the craven Hoare lord and their kin. “Speak up, squid.” The boy looked upon his mentor and gritted his teeth in anger, he let out a loud sigh. “Stop!” Even at the age of sixty three Erlend Seakin was still a strong man, the result of spending years as a raider until a sword claimed his arm, since then he spent his years at the court of lords and trained their kids, making sure they became potent fighters. “Do not let the men see you get annoyed, hide the emotions elsewhere.” His hand took hold of the young man’s tunic and with a quick jerk he brought the man forward, close to his own wrinkled face. “Speak up!” he would shout before pushing the young boy away, letting him stumble backwards before falling. “I am Harren Greyjoy! Do not touch me again, or else I will cut of your other arm.” He hissed as he got up on his feet with the letter in his hand. The old man chuckled at the words. “You are a skilled fighter, but far from reaching your potential. Now speak up, squid.” The young man parted the letter and started reading up the content.


Strait of Slave`s Bay, 8006, early on the year:


The deck was bloody and slippery and the smell of sweat, shit and blood could be smelled. The bare-chested man dressed in only silken clothes and a butchers knife ran across the deck, where the iron islanders fought against the unorganized traders convoy. The iron islanders had taken many riches by paying the iron price and the numbers of ships for their fleet had grown by quite a bit. The slave screamed exotic words as he swung his cleaver around: it was clear that he had received no training at all. Lord Vickon chuckled at the sight and stepped backward as the slashes descended and carved the air, his hand fell toward the hips and he produced a dirk. The next time the man attempted to strike him, he would step forward and jerk the dirk into the eye of the man, letting the corpse fall on the deck.

The skirmish was over within short time and the iron born had only taken a few losses, however gained a lot of new prisoners. The oarsmen of the ship was chained and unable to move except for when they were forced to row, the men had fine bodies. Far darker in the skin than what they were used to, yet they had long lean muscles and no scar upon their flesh. Their arms and bodies was the one of swimmers, yet they had marked muscles that Vickon figured was a result from the hard work. There were even some women in-between the ranks. They wore some fine linen robes, The iron islanders was all above the trells, claiming the women for salt wifes. The lords gaze rested upon one of the women slaves; a true beauty: plump breasts, wide hips, thick lips perfect for kissing and dusk skin. “He extended his finger toward her. “You are to be my salt wife.” Donnel Hoare, the one who claimed he would be the next Lord Paramount of the Iron Islands after the death of his father had also gazed upon the woman that lord Vickon desired, his manhood grew hard just by looking at him and the proud lord made a remark. “Are you slow, squid? I crushed more skulls than you beneath my boots, she is mine.” The men on the deck of the merchant deck grew restless, someone cheered at the words of the heir, in an attempt to earn some respect from the man that was so high up in the succession line. There were those who questioned if he was a kinslayer as his big brother, Harwyn Hoare had died in a suspicious accident earlier the same year, yet none dared to speak of it out loud. “You want my saltwife? Fine, win her from me while we dance. The finger dance…” his right hand fell upon the belt around his hip, resting upon the sheltered throwing axe. The young man looked upon the older lord, his eyes narrowing. He felt anger boil within him as he was questioned infront of those men he would one day rule. It would not be long until it was his time, his father laid ill in the bed. Those times one saw him on the deck of his ship he shivered and looked pale, only mere skin covered his bones, there seemed to be no flesh or muscles upon him anymore. “Fine, I’ll accept your dance.”

The two men stepped forward and narrowed their eyes, in their hand they held a throwing axe. Hoare pup lifted his arm and prepared to throw the axe. With a quick jerk at his wrist he sent the throwing axe spinning forward. Vickon would leap to the right, the axe hit the mast behind him. Lord Vickon had just managed to dodge it with a bit, he took the throwing axe and aimed at the young pup before throwing the axe forward. The throw was followed by laughter as it missed the young pup with quite a bit. “May the drown-“ his words were interrupted as an axe came spinning toward his face. In a desperate attempt to cover himself he brought up his right hand, only to have it cleaved in two. The impact stopped the axe and it remained stuck in his hand, Lord Vickons eyes gazed over at the mess that was his hand; bone splints, blood and dirt was the sight he saw. “I’ll take my salt wife then.” The heir said before walking away, some of his father bannermen took his salt wife with them as they left the merchant ship, leaving Vickon and his bannermen upon the merchant ship.


City of Seagard, Ironman`s bay, 8006 early on the year


The men drank, sung and attempted to have the tavernmaid Sharna lift her skirt like she did for most men who could pay her lavishly, or simply those she thought could become a worthy husband. The rumor of her and the other whores in “The River Maid” had brought Walder Mallister here, he was the oldest and only son of his father, Gare Mallister the highlord of Seagard and lord of Oldstones. He sat in the corner along with some of his fathers squires and shouted out the words of his house every time he downed a tankard of ale. “Above the Rest!” he and the squire bunch shouted before hitting the table, shouting for more drink. A bunch of traveling bards stood in the corner of the inn and sang their song, their skin was darker than the river men and they had a lighter voice than the harsh singing voice of the northern and river men. The squire sung along with the bards while Walder spent his time feeling the breasts of Sharna through the fabric of her dress. A wide smile grew upon his face at the thought of claiming his first woman. The dornish bards were about to start on the next song. “The Dorni-“ the sound of their voice was replaced by the loud sound from the bells upon the temple of the seven. It rang loudly and the inn fell silent.

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[video=youtube;t6VMSYIXCCY]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t6VMSYIXCCY[/video]​

For those who want to listen to Christocakes version of the song, The Bear and the Maiden fair​

"A bear there was,"
"A bear, A BEAR!
"All black and brown,"
"And covered in hair!

"Oh come they said,"
"Come to the fair!"
"The fair? said he,
"But I'm a bear!"
"All black and brown,"
"And covered in hair!"

"And down the road,"
"From here to there,"
"Three boys, a goat,"
"And a dancing bear!"
"They danced and spun,"
"All the way to the fair!"

"Oh! sweet she was,"
"And pure and fair,"
"The maid with honey,"
"In her hair!
"The maid with honey,"
"in her hair!"

The bear smelled the scent,
"On the summer air!"
"The Bear! The Bear!"
"All black and brown,"
"And covered with hair!"
"He smelled the scent,"
"On the summer air,"
"He sniffed and roared,"
"And smelled it there!"
"Honey on the summer air!"

"Oh I'm a maid,"
"I'm pure and fair,"
"I'll never dance,"
"With a hairy bear,"
"I'll never dance,"
"With a hairy bear!"

"The bear,the bear!"
"Lifted her high,"
into the air!"
The bear, the bear, the bear!"

"I called for a knight!"
"But you're a bear!"
"A bear! A bear,"
"All black and brown,"
"And covered in hair!"

"She kicked and wailed,"
"The maid so fair,"
"But he licked the honey,"
"From her hair!"
"He licked the honey,"
"From her hair!"

"Then she sighed and squealed,"
"And kicked the air,"
"She sang: My bear so fair,"
"And off they went,"
"The bear! The bear!"
"And the maiden fair!"​

 

[Marfell]

Scholar, I would love to show you the map. However I have no idea how I can get a picture of all of the map even thought I have seen it be done several times before. Also I fear it might spoil some, so maybe in 1-2 chapters?

I also might have overstepped by adding the song at the end of the chapter, as I am not sure if it was created by this time. However I am took the chance and added it, I thought it was quite darker myself. However I like the voice of the one who is singing in it. He is quite a decent singer and have also done "Last of the Giants" and "Dornishman`s Wife" that we hopefully will see later.

 

[Marfell]

For those that read, I have to say that I am quite sorry for not being able to update this week due to all the exams that we have at school these days. However I will attempt to get a chapter up tomorrow.

 

[Deaghaidh]

Scholar, I would love to show you the map. However I have no idea how I can get a picture of all of the map even thought I have seen it be done several times before. Also I fear it might spoil some, so maybe in 1-2 chapters?

I also might have overstepped by adding the song at the end of the chapter, as I am not sure if it was created by this time. However I am took the chance and added it, I thought it was quite darker myself. However I like the voice of the one who is singing in it. He is quite a decent singer and have also done "Last of the Giants" and "Dornishman`s Wife" that we hopefully will see later.

"Bear and the Maiden Fair" is supposed to be a quite old song I think. It's certainly widely known and sung. Personally I think it immortalizes the founding of House Mormont in the distant past.

 

[Marfell]

@Deaghaidh: I also think it is quite old. I will attempt to add some of the songs from the ASOIAF saga in my AAR at times just to add some more lore dept to the posts.

 

[Marfell]

Chapter 4, The Fall of the Riverlord ​

Oldstone, The Trident, Few weeks after the fall of Seagard

The Sept was an old one, raised by the Andals upon their conquest of Westeros long ago. Only the Iron Islanders and the North was the one that was too proud to bend their knee. Old and modest, there was little show of wealth in the Sept except for a glass portrait of the Seven. High Lord Mallister of Seagard sat with his family in the pews reseved for him and his family, his one remaining capable daughter and heir to his land sat beside him on the left side with her husband, a young bastard knight of a small bannerman house, her head bowed in prayer as the septon sung a hyme of the Father. “Fathers face is stern and strong.” His daughter had brought a younge son who wore the Mallister name into the world, it was all the Highlord could find peace in. They were yet young and would hopefully be granted the chance to produce more children unlike his eldest who had fallen at Seagarde. “He sits and judges right from wrong, he weights our life’s the short and long and loves the little children.” The Highlords gaze fell upon his own wife who sat upon his right side who sat and wept while her head was bowed in prayer. For the past days she had been like this, weeping after learning of the death of her oldest at the hands of the iron islanders who attacked their lands. They had been married for a long time and brought three children into the world who bore the Mallister name, two daughters, a son and several more who had died as infants. No matter how much he attempted to put the cares of his position away and find comfort in his faith, he found no peace here. Who knew where the damn iron islanders would strike next? They had made a slaughter of his five thousand sword and two thousand archers in Seagard. The rumors along the road spoke about the sacking of Seagard where corpses had been carved open and filled with stones, only to be thrown into the sea only to sink to the bottom after they had given them their valuables. If one was willing to convert to the Drowned God one would be allowed to live, the Sept had been put to the torches while the Septon was still inside. The Lord twisted his hands together and closed his eyes as he heard the words shouted by the Septa.

“If not brings of the false god, who are they?” The benches were full. “They hanged the holy sisters, the Silent Sisters from the gates of Seagard when they attempted to prepare the corpses. They killed innocents and fellow believers only to spread the name of a false god. If not the Father, whom shall bring justice to our lands?!” the Septon shouted from his lungs.

The words were comforting and summoned pictures of the seven god to the lords mind. He felt his daughters hand upon him arm and realized that he had been sitting with his eyes closed, rooking back and forth like the old women and craven at prayer to the seven. He nodded gratefully to his daughter and heir who remained him to keep a calm front while so many eyes resting upon him. He knew they looked to him for protection, yet he felt lost and powerless as his soldiers had been slaughtered among with his heir at Seagarde, all he could field now was old men, craven only numbering a few hundred. He had sent letters to the other Riverlords whom had ignored him as they were preoccupied with scheming for power, the Tully claimed they had to focus their men on garrison the ruins of Harrenhall while the Freys of the Crossing claimed they had to defend the realm from the North. What fools were his fellow riverlords! He regreted that he had not stepped forward and asked Aegon for the crown to the Trident, instead the King held it for himself. The Highlord returned to prayer and wring his hands once more, praying that his family and city would be spared. The Seven hard mercy, the Septon said. The iron islanders had none.

[video=youtube;eeNI5jPNKmU]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eeNI5jPNKmU[/video]​

Far away, shouts could be heard and the duke rose up. His wife was starting at him, and he crying stopped as confusion spread over her wrinkled face. The sound of running feets echoed through the Sept. Surley none would interrupt them at this hour? All he wanted was one night with solace with his Faith and family, was the officers that incompetent that they needed him around at every hour? He saw someone race up the stairs to the bell tower and he felt panic spreading within him. “Please Father, not here, not this night.” He whispered for himself. The bell began to sing its sung above his head, the Septon came walking slowly toward him and the Lord struggled to hide his fear. He yanked his Wife up on her feet and spoke in her ear “Take the children, go my stable and find my squire Edmund. Get out of the city as fast as you can. If the Warrior is kind I will come when I can.” Her face was red from the weeping, yet she did not hesitate to do as she was told and the lord gazed upon his family as they made their way out of the Sept. When the lord turned his face around he gazed upon the old Septon whom placed his hand upon the lords shoulder and spoke in a hushed cracking voice. “Is it the iron islanders? The Greyjoy?” On another night the Lord would have had the man beaten for his insolence, who was he who dared to touch the Highlord of Seagard? Yet in the presence of the Seven he dared not do such things. “If it is the Greyjoys, if they are here at our walls… I cannot hold them, Septon. I must save my family and will manage If the Gods are kind.” He turned around and ran out of the Sept, leaving the old septon behind who only gazed upon the empty Sept in horro while the bell tolled on above their heads. Only old and craven was left in the Sept, their hands twisted as they returned to praying. “The Mother give the gift of life and …” the Septon returned to singing to give comfort to those left.

The screaming in the distant continued as he reached outside, it seemed to come closer and closer. One rider ran up to him and swung his leg over the horses head and jumped down to the road as the lord shouted for him to dismount. He mouted the horse only to find the saddle still warm, the soldier saluted him and the highlord bestowed upon him a mere nod before dinging his heels deep into the animals side, making the hooves clatter against the stone road as he trotted away. As he made his way down the road toward the stable to find his family he heard the sounds of screams then the sounds from blade upon blade. How far away were they? Only the Seven could know.
As he turned around the corner toward the stable only to find the sound of his grandsons voice fading away in the distance, not yet aware of what was happening around him, an ability that only young children could manage to muster. The lord ignored the voices shouting behind him, yet he felt the shame dwelling inside him. He attempted to tell him that he made the right decision, yet all of his remaining troops were in the city to be slaughtered. Where was the tactical point in this? He digged his heels harder into the striders side and it picked up speed. He saw his family ride out of the city gate and prayed that the roads wouldn’t be blocked by the enemies, yet he hardened his heart for the fate they may expect. “Mother, let one way be open for my family. Mother let one…” he repeated the prayer for himself as the strider made its way against the gate.
The mount whinned in pain as an arrow made its way into the neck and it started to snort harder and more uncontrolled by every step it made. His hands hardned around its reins and he kicked madly in an attempt to muster the last energy of the strider who`s speed slowed, in the distance he saw his family escape on their horses. The stallion went down on the road, its backbone collapsing and the lord pushed himself away only to land on his shoulder feeling the stone hard road beneath him. Dazed from the fall he made his way up and looked around helplessly, he ran as fast as he could toward the gate that was closing slowly. The sound of horses could be heard behind him and he felt a sudden pain in his back head before he fell over and hit the road, laying still…

 

[Morgothic]

Needs more actual in-game pictures (So we know what's going on... a map or zoomed out screenshot would be nice) but otherwise good.

(This is definitely not a shameless bump)