I'm sorry but the fact that the high septon is now simply the fat one makes me smile.
The Dragon Kings - 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.
So in Chapter III I mentioned Jaime Lannister died of Pneumonia, (which he actually did in the game), then said he walked Cersei down the aisle in Chapter IV.
Needless to say I fixed that! :rofl:
Needless to say I fixed that! :rofl:
Awe man, I was hoping Ser Jorah would win 
And Rhaegar and Cersei...this will be interesting.
And Rhaegar and Cersei...this will be interesting.
Awe man, I was hoping Ser Jorah would win
And Rhaegar and Cersei...this will be interesting.
A splash of Rhaegar's regality and Cersei's ruthlessness could be a dangerous recipe for a child.
And congratulations on your WritAAR of the Week award.
CHAPTER V - THE CONQUEROR'S BLADE
The Silver King had only been wed to Cersei Lannister a week when an old man bearing mysterious news arrived in the Great Hall of the Red Keep. The man was clearly not right in the head, his speech slurred and his voice crackling, but this did not change the significance of the news he bore.
"Greetings your majesty, or is it your highness? I never quite knew what to call a king... Or should I call you my king? Majesty, highness, king. All the same is it not?" The man rambled on, his foreign accent jumbling his speech even more so than it already was. "You see, where I'm from, there are no kings, only men. Not to say you're not a man, but, you don't need me to tell you that. Over in the free citie-"
"Your grace." Rhaegar interrupted. "In Westeros, it is customary to refer to a king or queen as your grace." The man had worn the king's patience thin, but he retained his composure and spoke with a level tone. "My maester says you have in your possession a map that I might be willing to pay for. Tell me, what treasure does this map lead to?"
"This map points to the only treasure a Westerosi king would be interested in." Came the man's reply, already forgetting the formalities the king had taught him but a moment earlier. The man stopped there, pausing as if ready to fall asleep at a moment's notice.
"And that would be?" The king asked, trying to pry the information out of the old man's lisps as quickly as possible.
"It has many names master king. The Dothraki know it as Vorsa Kazga, but you might now it as Perzys Zōbriar."
Rhaegar sat up in his throne at the sound of those words. They were High Valyrian and as a son of House Targaryen, he knew exactly what they meant.
"For your lady Queen and the others in this room who do not speak the old tongue, I shall indulge." The old man threw his head back and his arms in the air, as if to create a spectacle and yelled, "Blackfyre!"
Blackfyre was the ancestral sword of House Targaryen and the blade wielding by Aegon the Conqueror nearly three hundred years ago. It had survived the Doom and served many kings before falling into the hands of a Targaryen bastard named Daemon. After his failed rebellion against my forebears, the sword was said to have travelled to Essos with Bittersteel and was believed to be in the possession of the Golden Company. The truth of this however was now up in the air. After demanding a cup of wine and a purse of gold from the king, the old man handed over the map and left. Whether true or not, Rhaegar knew that he must follow the map and find out for himself if Blackfyre truly did lie unattended.
Rhaegar hired himself a small transport ship with a small but stout crew, led by one Captain Cyricist. He bade farewell to his wife, Cersei and began his voyage east in search of his family's most prized heirloom. How long the journey would take, Rhaegar did not know, nor did he care. By right of birth and blood, the sword belonged to him and Rhaegar would see it returned to its proper position upon a Targaryen belt once more.
The journey had been wholly uneventful for the first eighty days and eighty nights. Rhaegar brought a book along with him to help him pass the time and in hopes of learning a useful skill. Naval Signals & Etiquette the book was called. The king had hoped that in reading this book, he might learn something that would prove useful on the voyage, but the chance of that happening was slim. The crew of the Oaken Maid were as the name might suggest: Hard, but fair. They were skilled sailors, their Captain above all others on the crew. Based on their appearance they could handle themselves in a fight, but were not above a laugh. In time, even the king was included in the japes and was not held in regard above the rest. All were equal on this ship. Rhaegar liked that.
The tenth night of the voyage was not so jolly as the rest had been. A pirate ship made directly for the Maid and the crew were frantically preparing for a fight. Rhaegar made for the helm of the ship, seeking out its captain, Cyricist.
"You say your men can fight Captain. Are you willing to prove it to me?"
The tall, thin and bald-headed man looked at the king, puzzled.
"Let them board the Maid Captain. How often do pirates come face to face with royalty?" The king continued. Not one to boast, Rhaegar merely placed confidence in his own abilities as a fighter.
"As you wish your grace." Said the Captain in reply, understanding that it was their best chance at victory.
When the two ships clashed, a slew of pirates hurried aboard and met the crew of the Oaken Maid on the deck of the ship. Rhaegar dispatched of three men within the first few seconds of the boarding before running to the aid of one of the crewmembers. Before long, the pirates realized they were outmatched, but it was too late. Most of them were on the ship already, believing such a small transport would pose them no threat. With Rhaegar at his side, Captain Cyricist sounded the charge at the rest of the boarders and within minutes they were vanquished. Over the next hour or two, the crew of the Oaken Maid disposed of the dead, detached the pirate ship and continued their journey east.
Another thirty days passed before the next unfortunate event befell the Oaken Maid. The expedition had been aided by the weather up to this point in time. There were few clouds in the sky and the wind carried the ship further east at rapid speeds. One day, somewhere off the coast of Volantis, a storm came upon the seas seemingly out of nowhere. The Maid was rocked from side to side by the torrent of waves crashing against its hull. Lighting streaked through the night sky and thunder bellowed as if the gods were at battle amongst themselves. The crew did their best to steady the ship, but could not counter the ferocity of nature when a bolt of lightning struck its mast and nearly tore the ship in two. The mast came toppling down upon the Silver King without a moment's notice, knocking him unconscious in an instant.
Rhaegar awoke during what was presumably the next day on the stony shores of what he assumed to be a small island of the coast of Volantis. A number of yards down the beach Rhaegar spotted Cyricist, the captain of the Oaken Maid. He too was unconscious, lying limp against the rock. The king rushed to his side and woke the man up. Aside from the water he spat up upon waking, the captain seemed unharmed. They searched the shoreline for a while, hoping to come across other survivors of the wreck, but they had no such luck. The sun was beginning to set and so the two abandoned the search and headed inland to find shelter.
They came across an empty cave and decided it was best if they stayed there for the night.
"Go on then", said the captain, with what little energy he had, gesturing towards the small pile of wood and kindle he had gathered into a pile.
Rhaegar sat bemused, not understanding what the captain had meant by his order.
"Some dragon you are, can't even light a bloody fire", Cyricist said with a laugh.
Rhaegar joined in the laughter. They had no food nor water, but any glimpse of happiness might be enough to keep them going.
After a few minutes of sparking two rocks against one another, Cyricist had the fire lit. It illuminated the entire cave, revealing what would prove to be salvation for the two castaways. The fire had revealed a long corridor at the back of the cave, a passageway otherwise hidden by the dark of night. The two men immediately rose to their feet and headed inward. At the end of the corridor the two men entered a large room, with a giant stone slab on one end and three carved pillars on the other. The pillars were etched with images of four animals: A wolf, a dog, a crow and an eagle. The giant stone slab on the other end of the room was clearly a doorway into a sealed chamber. On it was inscribed a riddle, that clearly correlated to the three pillars. The correct answer must open the door, Rhaegar thought to himself.
After much deliberation, the two men had agreed upon their answer to the riddle. The first pillar displayed an eagle, the second a crow and the third a dog. The two waited a moment to see if there would be any effect, fearing that a trap might be sprung should their choices prove incorrect. A small click was hear from behind the walls before a much larger click seemingly dislodged the giant stone door. The two men pushed it together, opening the passageway to their prize.
What laid inside was indeed a prize to behold. The room was strewn with golden banners and the bones of men long since departed from this world. Rhaegar noticed the sigil of the Golden Company embroidered on one of the severely tattered banners. The sight of the famed golden skulls filled Rhaegar with hope. He turned to the center of the room, his gaze caught by the large chest sat atop a pedestal of stone. Rhaegar and Cyricist approached the chest and with a nearby stone, broke the lock. The king lifted the lid to reveal its contents. The chest was overflowing with gold, enough to hire a ship to return them to Westeros and to leave Cyricist a rich man for the rest of his life. Gold held little of importance to Rhaegar though, as he had plenty of it in King's Landing. What sat atop the pile was of far more value to the king.
A remarkably silver blade sat atop an ornate black hilt, encrusted with blood red rubies. The hilt was carved in the visage of a three-headed dragon coiled around the pommel, with two of the heads jutting out either side to form the crossguard.
"Blackfyre..." Rhaegar muttered, not realizing he spoke aloud. The captain next to him ushered him to hold the blade for himself and Rhaegar obliged. There is no finer blade in the known world, thought the king, jubilant with their discovery. The journey was a success.
Within days, the two men had hired a ship and had set sail for King's Landing. Rhaegar promised the treasure hoard to Cyricist, citing his need to purchase a new ship and crew. Weeks passed aboard the ship and the two men grew ever closer. In the months the few months he had known Cyricist, Rhaegar now counted him amongst his friends.
"You will always be welcome in my court, Cyricist." He said to the man.
"And you my ship", came the captain's reply.
The men continued their conversations over the next few days, before Rhaegar spotted it in the distance. The rock jutted out of the ocean like some twisted and contorted watchtower. Scattered throughout the rocky cliffs were carved out windows, terraces and atop the mound itself, a keep. Dragonstone. The ancestral seat of the Targaryen heir and the outermost island of the eastern shore of Westeros. Home.
The Silver King had only been wed to Cersei Lannister a week when an old man bearing mysterious news arrived in the Great Hall of the Red Keep. The man was clearly not right in the head, his speech slurred and his voice crackling, but this did not change the significance of the news he bore.
"Greetings your majesty, or is it your highness? I never quite knew what to call a king... Or should I call you my king? Majesty, highness, king. All the same is it not?" The man rambled on, his foreign accent jumbling his speech even more so than it already was. "You see, where I'm from, there are no kings, only men. Not to say you're not a man, but, you don't need me to tell you that. Over in the free citie-"
"Your grace." Rhaegar interrupted. "In Westeros, it is customary to refer to a king or queen as your grace." The man had worn the king's patience thin, but he retained his composure and spoke with a level tone. "My maester says you have in your possession a map that I might be willing to pay for. Tell me, what treasure does this map lead to?"
"This map points to the only treasure a Westerosi king would be interested in." Came the man's reply, already forgetting the formalities the king had taught him but a moment earlier. The man stopped there, pausing as if ready to fall asleep at a moment's notice.
"And that would be?" The king asked, trying to pry the information out of the old man's lisps as quickly as possible.
"It has many names master king. The Dothraki know it as Vorsa Kazga, but you might now it as Perzys Zōbriar."
Rhaegar sat up in his throne at the sound of those words. They were High Valyrian and as a son of House Targaryen, he knew exactly what they meant.
"For your lady Queen and the others in this room who do not speak the old tongue, I shall indulge." The old man threw his head back and his arms in the air, as if to create a spectacle and yelled, "Blackfyre!"
Blackfyre was the ancestral sword of House Targaryen and the blade wielding by Aegon the Conqueror nearly three hundred years ago. It had survived the Doom and served many kings before falling into the hands of a Targaryen bastard named Daemon. After his failed rebellion against my forebears, the sword was said to have travelled to Essos with Bittersteel and was believed to be in the possession of the Golden Company. The truth of this however was now up in the air. After demanding a cup of wine and a purse of gold from the king, the old man handed over the map and left. Whether true or not, Rhaegar knew that he must follow the map and find out for himself if Blackfyre truly did lie unattended.
Rhaegar hired himself a small transport ship with a small but stout crew, led by one Captain Cyricist. He bade farewell to his wife, Cersei and began his voyage east in search of his family's most prized heirloom. How long the journey would take, Rhaegar did not know, nor did he care. By right of birth and blood, the sword belonged to him and Rhaegar would see it returned to its proper position upon a Targaryen belt once more.
The journey had been wholly uneventful for the first eighty days and eighty nights. Rhaegar brought a book along with him to help him pass the time and in hopes of learning a useful skill. Naval Signals & Etiquette the book was called. The king had hoped that in reading this book, he might learn something that would prove useful on the voyage, but the chance of that happening was slim. The crew of the Oaken Maid were as the name might suggest: Hard, but fair. They were skilled sailors, their Captain above all others on the crew. Based on their appearance they could handle themselves in a fight, but were not above a laugh. In time, even the king was included in the japes and was not held in regard above the rest. All were equal on this ship. Rhaegar liked that.
The tenth night of the voyage was not so jolly as the rest had been. A pirate ship made directly for the Maid and the crew were frantically preparing for a fight. Rhaegar made for the helm of the ship, seeking out its captain, Cyricist.
"You say your men can fight Captain. Are you willing to prove it to me?"
The tall, thin and bald-headed man looked at the king, puzzled.
"Let them board the Maid Captain. How often do pirates come face to face with royalty?" The king continued. Not one to boast, Rhaegar merely placed confidence in his own abilities as a fighter.
"As you wish your grace." Said the Captain in reply, understanding that it was their best chance at victory.
When the two ships clashed, a slew of pirates hurried aboard and met the crew of the Oaken Maid on the deck of the ship. Rhaegar dispatched of three men within the first few seconds of the boarding before running to the aid of one of the crewmembers. Before long, the pirates realized they were outmatched, but it was too late. Most of them were on the ship already, believing such a small transport would pose them no threat. With Rhaegar at his side, Captain Cyricist sounded the charge at the rest of the boarders and within minutes they were vanquished. Over the next hour or two, the crew of the Oaken Maid disposed of the dead, detached the pirate ship and continued their journey east.
Another thirty days passed before the next unfortunate event befell the Oaken Maid. The expedition had been aided by the weather up to this point in time. There were few clouds in the sky and the wind carried the ship further east at rapid speeds. One day, somewhere off the coast of Volantis, a storm came upon the seas seemingly out of nowhere. The Maid was rocked from side to side by the torrent of waves crashing against its hull. Lighting streaked through the night sky and thunder bellowed as if the gods were at battle amongst themselves. The crew did their best to steady the ship, but could not counter the ferocity of nature when a bolt of lightning struck its mast and nearly tore the ship in two. The mast came toppling down upon the Silver King without a moment's notice, knocking him unconscious in an instant.
Rhaegar awoke during what was presumably the next day on the stony shores of what he assumed to be a small island of the coast of Volantis. A number of yards down the beach Rhaegar spotted Cyricist, the captain of the Oaken Maid. He too was unconscious, lying limp against the rock. The king rushed to his side and woke the man up. Aside from the water he spat up upon waking, the captain seemed unharmed. They searched the shoreline for a while, hoping to come across other survivors of the wreck, but they had no such luck. The sun was beginning to set and so the two abandoned the search and headed inland to find shelter.
They came across an empty cave and decided it was best if they stayed there for the night.
"Go on then", said the captain, with what little energy he had, gesturing towards the small pile of wood and kindle he had gathered into a pile.
Rhaegar sat bemused, not understanding what the captain had meant by his order.
"Some dragon you are, can't even light a bloody fire", Cyricist said with a laugh.
Rhaegar joined in the laughter. They had no food nor water, but any glimpse of happiness might be enough to keep them going.
After a few minutes of sparking two rocks against one another, Cyricist had the fire lit. It illuminated the entire cave, revealing what would prove to be salvation for the two castaways. The fire had revealed a long corridor at the back of the cave, a passageway otherwise hidden by the dark of night. The two men immediately rose to their feet and headed inward. At the end of the corridor the two men entered a large room, with a giant stone slab on one end and three carved pillars on the other. The pillars were etched with images of four animals: A wolf, a dog, a crow and an eagle. The giant stone slab on the other end of the room was clearly a doorway into a sealed chamber. On it was inscribed a riddle, that clearly correlated to the three pillars. The correct answer must open the door, Rhaegar thought to himself.
After much deliberation, the two men had agreed upon their answer to the riddle. The first pillar displayed an eagle, the second a crow and the third a dog. The two waited a moment to see if there would be any effect, fearing that a trap might be sprung should their choices prove incorrect. A small click was hear from behind the walls before a much larger click seemingly dislodged the giant stone door. The two men pushed it together, opening the passageway to their prize.
What laid inside was indeed a prize to behold. The room was strewn with golden banners and the bones of men long since departed from this world. Rhaegar noticed the sigil of the Golden Company embroidered on one of the severely tattered banners. The sight of the famed golden skulls filled Rhaegar with hope. He turned to the center of the room, his gaze caught by the large chest sat atop a pedestal of stone. Rhaegar and Cyricist approached the chest and with a nearby stone, broke the lock. The king lifted the lid to reveal its contents. The chest was overflowing with gold, enough to hire a ship to return them to Westeros and to leave Cyricist a rich man for the rest of his life. Gold held little of importance to Rhaegar though, as he had plenty of it in King's Landing. What sat atop the pile was of far more value to the king.
A remarkably silver blade sat atop an ornate black hilt, encrusted with blood red rubies. The hilt was carved in the visage of a three-headed dragon coiled around the pommel, with two of the heads jutting out either side to form the crossguard.
"Blackfyre..." Rhaegar muttered, not realizing he spoke aloud. The captain next to him ushered him to hold the blade for himself and Rhaegar obliged. There is no finer blade in the known world, thought the king, jubilant with their discovery. The journey was a success.
Within days, the two men had hired a ship and had set sail for King's Landing. Rhaegar promised the treasure hoard to Cyricist, citing his need to purchase a new ship and crew. Weeks passed aboard the ship and the two men grew ever closer. In the months the few months he had known Cyricist, Rhaegar now counted him amongst his friends.
"You will always be welcome in my court, Cyricist." He said to the man.
"And you my ship", came the captain's reply.
The men continued their conversations over the next few days, before Rhaegar spotted it in the distance. The rock jutted out of the ocean like some twisted and contorted watchtower. Scattered throughout the rocky cliffs were carved out windows, terraces and atop the mound itself, a keep. Dragonstone. The ancestral seat of the Targaryen heir and the outermost island of the eastern shore of Westeros. Home.
Good to see Blackfyre back in the hands of house Targaryen. As much as I like this quest I find it strange that Swords such as Ice which should not exist in the FFC Scenario can end up back in your procession as it did in my Jon Snow Play through. What is next for Rhaegar I wonder?
The quest is an oddity when it comes to the named Valyrian Steel blades, that's why I tried to add in the part about it being a bit of a Balin's tomb, but for the Golden Company.
What's next for Rhaegar you ask? Fire and Blood.
Great success there! A very captivating read too. The last two screenshots, even though this is for AGoT, made me think of Skyrim for whatever reason...
Great success there! A very captivating read too. The last two screenshots, even though this is for AGoT, made me think of Skyrim for whatever reason...
Thanks volksmarschall. I think the fact that the first one is from Skyrim helps that scenario. :rofl:
CHAPTER VI - A STORM RISES
It was midway through March when the King set foot again on the shores Westeros. Seven months had passed since the disheveled old man showed up in his halls with a claim to a lost heirloom. With the blade Blackfyre resting upon his belt, Rhaegar stepped off the ship that bore himself and Cyricist back to King's Landing and was greeted by the sight of his wife and three children. Rhaegar had departed from the city seven months earlier with only two children to his name, Aegon and Rhaenys. Aegon, still a young boy, stood tall and proud as a Targaryen prince should. Rhaenys, the eldest child of the king, stood beside her brother. Looking more Dornish than Valyrian, Rhaenys was already blossoming into a beautiful young princess, who would no doubt be the envy of many a lady in future years. In Cersei's arms however, there was a third child. No more than a few months old, Rhaegar thoughts drifted towards a horrid conclusion. Any thoughts that the child might not have been his were quickly dashed upon closer inspection. His silver hair and violet eyes told the king all he needed to know. He is a Targaryen.
"His name is Maegor", said Cersei, "one of two sons born on the same night. The only one to survive".
Cersei's face morphed from joy to sorrow at the thought of her stillborn child. "Aemond did not survive the birthing."
The news saddened the king deeply, but not as deep as one might expect from a father who had lost a son. Rhaegar had never known of the birth of his twins, nor had he ever laid eyes upon them. The only children he knew where the three stood before him, the only three he needed then. He kissed his wife fondly and reassured her that the past could not haunt them forever before ushering his family towards the Red Keep's walls, eagerly awaiting a moment to sit and exchange stories of the last seven months.
Upon entering the Great Hall, a man clad in dark leathers and a fur over his shoulders made for the king before he had even a chance to sit on his throne. The man held an arm outstretched, in it, a letter baring an unbroken wax seal depicting a direwolf of the North.
"A letter from Lord Eddard Stark, your grace", the messenger said, calmly yet firmly.
Rhaegar split the seal and unraveled the message, reading:
To his Grace King Rhaegar of the House Targaryen, first of his name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm. I, Eddard, of the House Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North, hereby declare you unfit to rule. Surrender your crown and titles to your son Aegon, sixth of his name and you shall be allowed to leave Westeros and live out your days in peace. Refuse this offer and face the armies of the North and the Stormlands in open battle. What say you?
An ultimatum. Rhaegar at that moment should have sought to discuss the letter with his Small Council, but the king was in no mood for such formalities. He had faced the armies of the Stormlands and the North before and won, he would do it again. With a firm arm, the king thrust the letter into the chest of the messenger from Winterfell.
"Tell Lord Stark he shall have his war. Tell your lord that I was soft on him two years ago. Tell him that should he raise his banners again, his life is forfeit. Now go!"
The king would not allow this rebellion to grow strong as Robert's nearly had three years earlier. As indicated by the letter, Stannis Baratheon sided with Ned Stark in his rebellion, but the other lords rode to the crown's aide. Barring the Greyjoys, who seldom involved themselves with the wars of the mainland, the remaining five lords paramount sided with Rhaegar and the Iron Throne. Robert's Rebellion had left the Stormlands and much of the North to lick their wounds and as such could only muster thirty thousand men at most. With the other lords on Rhaegar's side, the crown could muster in excess of one hundred thousand men. There would no quarter shown to the rebels. Only fire. Only blood.
With the Riverlands ensuring the armies of the North could not march on the capital, Rhaegar raised his armies and marched for the Stormlands. After a month or so of marching, the men had their first fight of the war. Rhaegar's host of twenty thousand engaged the seventeen thousand-strong army of Stannis Baratheon at Haystack Hall in August. The battle went through many phases over the course of many days, each side vying for dominance in the tug-of-war they found themselves in. On the seventh day of battle, Rhaegar's van engaged a small force led by Ser Richard of the Stormlands. The two men clashed swords in the thick of the fighting, but the young knight was no match for the King. They danced a moment, Rhaegar easily parrying the knight's frantic attacks. Before long, the king found his opening, bringing Blackfyre down upon the outstretched forearm of the Ser, cleaving the limb off with a single stroke. Valyrian steel had its uses. The king swung his blade around once more and buried it in Ser Richard's chest, killing him instantly.
The battle raged on a while longer, but on the eleventh day of battle, the tide turned in favor of the Iron Throne. Rhaegar's right flank, led by Arthur Dayne of the Kingsguard, had pushed through Stannis' flank and now circled inward into Stannis' van. The Stormlanders could not hold the assault from two fronts and, before long, routed. The first battle of the war had been a bloody one for Rhaegar's forces, but far bloodier for Storm's End. Rhaegar lost three thousand good men in the eleven days of fighting, while Stannis' forces lost ten thousand. While this was over half of the Lord's forces, eight thousand still remained and had to be dealt with. Rhaegar ordered his forces to be split in two. Lord Commander Gerold Hightower of the Kingsguard would take twelve thousand men and lay siege to Storm's End, while Rhaegar would lead the other eight thousand in pursuit of Stannis' remaining forces.
The pursuit lasted nearly three months, with the Stormlander army failing to meet Rhaegar's host in battle at every turn. A skirmish or two occurred occassionally as the king's forces closed in on Stannis Baratheon, but few casualites were inflicted upon the enemy. They ran in circles around the northern Stormlands, before eventually returning to Haystack Hall in November. There, having grown tired of the pursuit, Rhaegar ordered a night assault on the fort, to the shock of the Stormlanders within. The battle was quick and bloody, with Stannis' entire force completely shattered against the walls of the keep. The greatest victory of the night belonged to Prince Lewyn of the Kingsguard however. The Prince met the Baratheon lord in battle. They say the two men fought with the fury of a dozen, but in the end, only one remained. Lord Stannis Baratheon of Storm's End fell to the sword of the Kingsguard knight. With his death, his brother Renly became the Lord of the Stormlands. The boy was not yet old enough to rule, but his regents advised him wisely. He surrendered to Gerold Hightower and bent the knee to the king. Not one to begrudge one brother for the actions of another, Rhaegar accepted and the Stormlands left the rebellion. Now, only Ned Stark remained.
It was midway through March when the King set foot again on the shores Westeros. Seven months had passed since the disheveled old man showed up in his halls with a claim to a lost heirloom. With the blade Blackfyre resting upon his belt, Rhaegar stepped off the ship that bore himself and Cyricist back to King's Landing and was greeted by the sight of his wife and three children. Rhaegar had departed from the city seven months earlier with only two children to his name, Aegon and Rhaenys. Aegon, still a young boy, stood tall and proud as a Targaryen prince should. Rhaenys, the eldest child of the king, stood beside her brother. Looking more Dornish than Valyrian, Rhaenys was already blossoming into a beautiful young princess, who would no doubt be the envy of many a lady in future years. In Cersei's arms however, there was a third child. No more than a few months old, Rhaegar thoughts drifted towards a horrid conclusion. Any thoughts that the child might not have been his were quickly dashed upon closer inspection. His silver hair and violet eyes told the king all he needed to know. He is a Targaryen.
"His name is Maegor", said Cersei, "one of two sons born on the same night. The only one to survive".
Cersei's face morphed from joy to sorrow at the thought of her stillborn child. "Aemond did not survive the birthing."
The news saddened the king deeply, but not as deep as one might expect from a father who had lost a son. Rhaegar had never known of the birth of his twins, nor had he ever laid eyes upon them. The only children he knew where the three stood before him, the only three he needed then. He kissed his wife fondly and reassured her that the past could not haunt them forever before ushering his family towards the Red Keep's walls, eagerly awaiting a moment to sit and exchange stories of the last seven months.
Upon entering the Great Hall, a man clad in dark leathers and a fur over his shoulders made for the king before he had even a chance to sit on his throne. The man held an arm outstretched, in it, a letter baring an unbroken wax seal depicting a direwolf of the North.
"A letter from Lord Eddard Stark, your grace", the messenger said, calmly yet firmly.
Rhaegar split the seal and unraveled the message, reading:
To his Grace King Rhaegar of the House Targaryen, first of his name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm. I, Eddard, of the House Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North, hereby declare you unfit to rule. Surrender your crown and titles to your son Aegon, sixth of his name and you shall be allowed to leave Westeros and live out your days in peace. Refuse this offer and face the armies of the North and the Stormlands in open battle. What say you?
An ultimatum. Rhaegar at that moment should have sought to discuss the letter with his Small Council, but the king was in no mood for such formalities. He had faced the armies of the Stormlands and the North before and won, he would do it again. With a firm arm, the king thrust the letter into the chest of the messenger from Winterfell.
"Tell Lord Stark he shall have his war. Tell your lord that I was soft on him two years ago. Tell him that should he raise his banners again, his life is forfeit. Now go!"
The king would not allow this rebellion to grow strong as Robert's nearly had three years earlier. As indicated by the letter, Stannis Baratheon sided with Ned Stark in his rebellion, but the other lords rode to the crown's aide. Barring the Greyjoys, who seldom involved themselves with the wars of the mainland, the remaining five lords paramount sided with Rhaegar and the Iron Throne. Robert's Rebellion had left the Stormlands and much of the North to lick their wounds and as such could only muster thirty thousand men at most. With the other lords on Rhaegar's side, the crown could muster in excess of one hundred thousand men. There would no quarter shown to the rebels. Only fire. Only blood.
With the Riverlands ensuring the armies of the North could not march on the capital, Rhaegar raised his armies and marched for the Stormlands. After a month or so of marching, the men had their first fight of the war. Rhaegar's host of twenty thousand engaged the seventeen thousand-strong army of Stannis Baratheon at Haystack Hall in August. The battle went through many phases over the course of many days, each side vying for dominance in the tug-of-war they found themselves in. On the seventh day of battle, Rhaegar's van engaged a small force led by Ser Richard of the Stormlands. The two men clashed swords in the thick of the fighting, but the young knight was no match for the King. They danced a moment, Rhaegar easily parrying the knight's frantic attacks. Before long, the king found his opening, bringing Blackfyre down upon the outstretched forearm of the Ser, cleaving the limb off with a single stroke. Valyrian steel had its uses. The king swung his blade around once more and buried it in Ser Richard's chest, killing him instantly.
The pursuit lasted nearly three months, with the Stormlander army failing to meet Rhaegar's host in battle at every turn. A skirmish or two occurred occassionally as the king's forces closed in on Stannis Baratheon, but few casualites were inflicted upon the enemy. They ran in circles around the northern Stormlands, before eventually returning to Haystack Hall in November. There, having grown tired of the pursuit, Rhaegar ordered a night assault on the fort, to the shock of the Stormlanders within. The battle was quick and bloody, with Stannis' entire force completely shattered against the walls of the keep. The greatest victory of the night belonged to Prince Lewyn of the Kingsguard however. The Prince met the Baratheon lord in battle. They say the two men fought with the fury of a dozen, but in the end, only one remained. Lord Stannis Baratheon of Storm's End fell to the sword of the Kingsguard knight. With his death, his brother Renly became the Lord of the Stormlands. The boy was not yet old enough to rule, but his regents advised him wisely. He surrendered to Gerold Hightower and bent the knee to the king. Not one to begrudge one brother for the actions of another, Rhaegar accepted and the Stormlands left the rebellion. Now, only Ned Stark remained.
House Baratheon is dropping like flies. Renly better get his shit together and have some sons if he doesn't want Storm's End given over to some other family in the future. Perhaps the Conningtons.
Agreed. Renly's only eight at this point so still a good seven or eight years until he can have a son. Plenty of time to lose his title, with Rhaegar being next in line to succeed him.
Interesting that you mention the Conningtons. In game, Rhaegar's best friends are Arthur Dayne, Cyricist, (the captain from Chapter V), and one Jon Connington. I didn't include it, but at the start of the rebellion in Chapter VI, he actually donated 50 gold to my war effort.
So if a Baratheon steps out of line again, I think I know who'll get the Stormlands.
Good job so far speaking of money from friends I got the high septon himself, Stannis, and the faith militant's leader as a friend all in one game I played recently. The high speton more or less said, "Hey I see you're trying to take over the vale he's five gold good luck!" And then the faith militant guy did the same thing.
Anyways I'd like to say good job again.
Anyways I'd like to say good job again.
CHAPTER VII - WINTER FALLS
With Stannis Baratheon dead and his armies crushed in the Stormlands, Renly surrendered to the king and now only Lord Eddard Stark remained in rebellion. The armies of the Riverlands had held the Northern lord at the Neck while Tywin Lannister and Mace Tyrell marched to their aid. With the siege of Storm's End no longer required, Lord Commander Gerold Hightower's force joined with Rhaegar's and they boarded the Iron Fleet and set sail for the North.
It was a month and a half before the Iron Fleet made its way into the waters of the North, arriving at the Eastern coast of the Neck. Before their departure from the Stormlands, news had reached Rhaegar that when the Lannister and Tyrell armies arrived at the neck, a full-scale assault would be made on the North. Knowing that the Northern host was stationed at Moat Cailin, Rhaegar made plans to land slightly south of their position and ride to Silvereed. Upon arrival at Fendun, the king's army discovered that a battle was already underway. With the reinforcing Lannister and Tyrell forces having arrived, the army from the Riverlands drew Lord Eddard Stark out of Moat Cailin and into battle. The Northmen where heavily outnumbered by their Southron counterparts and even more so when Rhaegar joined the fray. The king took three thousand mounted knights and personally led the charge on Lord Stark's left flank. The forces of Winterfell were caught completely off-guard by this new assault, falling within hours of the king's arrival. Lord Stark was gravely injured in the battle and fled with his remaining men back to Winterfell. In a single day, the majority of the Northern armies had been crushed and now the Southern lords were left to pick off the stragglers throughout the North.
Rhaegar's army began the month-long march to Winterfell shortly after the battle. With most of the North's fighting men present at the Battle of Fendun, they met little resistance up the Kingsroad. The royal host arrived at the walls of Winterfell at the end of April and laid siege to the great Northern castle. News reached Rhaegar's camp that a Northern force was mustering in White Harbor to the South that could not be allowed to march to the aid of Winterfell. Knowing a force of sixteen thousand would not be needed to take the castle, Rhaegar commanded Ser Jonothor Darry of the Kingsguard to lead eight thousand men against White Harbor at once. The knight left with his force soon after, while the king remained behind to wait out the last line of defenders of the North at Winterfell.
Two months later news reached the king that Ser Jonothor had engaged the Northern host at New Castle, along with Tywin Lannister's much larger force. Only two thousand men had been mustered at White Harbor, far fewer than the Northmen had led the king to believe. The battle was swift and brutal, with no survivors from the Northern army and only two hundred casualties on the side of the crown. With the minor Northern force dealt with, the wounded Ned Stark had no further aid outside of the walls he found himself cowering behind. Before long, Winterfell would fall and the second rebellion of Houses Baratheon and Stark would be extinguished.
While the king's forces were no doubt prepared for it, starving out Winterfell's defenders or directly assaulting the walls would not be needed. In late August, four months after laying siege to the ancient seat of House Stark, the Lord of the North succumbed to his wounds. The Northern lord had been grievously wounded at the Battle of Fendun six months earlier, but was expected to make a full recovery in time. According to reports however, Lord Stark's condition had deteriorated over the months and after a long night of pain and cold sweats, Ned Stark was dead. In similar fashion to the what occurred in the Stormlands, Ned Stark's son, Robb, not looking to prolong his people's pain, surrendered to Rhaegar on the same night. While Rhaegar had promised to show no quarter to Ned Stark and Stannis Baratheon, he would not take the lives of the new lords of the North and the Stormlands. Robb Stark and Renly Baratheon were but children, in no way responsible for the actions of their kin. This provided Rhaegar with an opportunity to start fresh with House Stark and House Baratheon. By not stripping the two great houses of their lands and titles, the king had ensured the balance of power was maintained as it had been for centuries, appeasing the local lords of the two kingdoms. By sparing their lives, the two would forever after bear gratitude to their king for showing restraint in his actions and the king would be viewed as a just and merciful liege, to the benefit of all. With orders sent to the few remaining Northern garrisons to stand down, Rhaegar marched for White Harbor to board the Iron Fleet back to the capital.
Upon arrival in King's Landing, Rhaegar Targaryen was once more met with both good and bad news. The king found himself again staring down at his children on the port of the capital, another face added to his growing brood. Rhaegar Targaryen Cersei had called him, second of his name. He bore an uncanny resemblance to his lord-father and the other Targaryen men before him. His silver hair already growing on his head, his violet eyes shimmering in the light of the stars. Now, with four children and three sons to his name, Rhaegar's line was at last secure. The joyous news was quickly put to rest when Ser Barristan Selmy informed the king of another rebellion.
"Lord Matthos of Dalston Keep has made claim that your rule is weak, your grace", said the aging knight. "He has taken this opportunity to claim independence from your rule."
"How many men does Lord Matthos command Ser Barristan?" Asked the king, with a clear look of distain on his face.
"One thousand your grace. Hardly enough to win a rebellion, but enough to hold his keep in the absence of the royal army."
The king pondered a moment. Shall I ever be rid of these meddlesome rebels? He turned back to Ser Barristan.
"Very well. Keep watch over my family Ser Barristan, keep them safe. I shall deal with Lord Matthos personally."
Barely a moment from his ship, Rhaegar was already on the march again. Knowing his men had fought long and hard in the Stormlands and the North, the king asked his men for volunteers to march on Dalston Keep with him. He would not force those who had done what was asked of them, to do it again so soon after. The Silver King waited a few hours for the word to be sent out. He waited outside the walls just west of the city for any and all who would accept his call to arms. By nightfall, four thousand men had gathered around their king, more than enough to take the keep. With Lord Commander Hightower and Ser Arthur Dayne at his side, King Rhaegar marched on Dalston Keep. With only one thousand swords at his command, Matthos Gaunt's rebellion could not hope to endure. By November, Rhaegar's forces had sensed the defenders of the keep were low enough on food, water and morale for a direct assault on the walls. Starved and dehydrated, the garrison put up little fight. Lord Matthos was dragged from his hall and brought before the king in the courtyard of the keep. The king had grown tired of these rebellions and knew a message had to be sent.
"Kneel, Lord Matthos", where the only words the king offered. He had abandoned all other customaries and courtesies.
The proud lord did so, not fearing the verdict that was to come. In his final act of defiance, the lord spat at the feet of the king and cursed the name Targaryen and all those who bore it. With that, Rhaegar raised Blackfyre high in the air and brought it down upon the old lord's neck, cleaving his head from his shoulders.
With Lord Gaunt's death, another rebellion was ended, the third since Rhaegar was named king little over four years earlier. Will my rule ever be secure? The king asked of himself. Am I doomed to lead my house into ruin? The thought haunted him. For the first time since the death of his father and Robert Baratheon's rebellion, the realm knew peace. How long would it last?
With Stannis Baratheon dead and his armies crushed in the Stormlands, Renly surrendered to the king and now only Lord Eddard Stark remained in rebellion. The armies of the Riverlands had held the Northern lord at the Neck while Tywin Lannister and Mace Tyrell marched to their aid. With the siege of Storm's End no longer required, Lord Commander Gerold Hightower's force joined with Rhaegar's and they boarded the Iron Fleet and set sail for the North.
It was a month and a half before the Iron Fleet made its way into the waters of the North, arriving at the Eastern coast of the Neck. Before their departure from the Stormlands, news had reached Rhaegar that when the Lannister and Tyrell armies arrived at the neck, a full-scale assault would be made on the North. Knowing that the Northern host was stationed at Moat Cailin, Rhaegar made plans to land slightly south of their position and ride to Silvereed. Upon arrival at Fendun, the king's army discovered that a battle was already underway. With the reinforcing Lannister and Tyrell forces having arrived, the army from the Riverlands drew Lord Eddard Stark out of Moat Cailin and into battle. The Northmen where heavily outnumbered by their Southron counterparts and even more so when Rhaegar joined the fray. The king took three thousand mounted knights and personally led the charge on Lord Stark's left flank. The forces of Winterfell were caught completely off-guard by this new assault, falling within hours of the king's arrival. Lord Stark was gravely injured in the battle and fled with his remaining men back to Winterfell. In a single day, the majority of the Northern armies had been crushed and now the Southern lords were left to pick off the stragglers throughout the North.
Rhaegar's army began the month-long march to Winterfell shortly after the battle. With most of the North's fighting men present at the Battle of Fendun, they met little resistance up the Kingsroad. The royal host arrived at the walls of Winterfell at the end of April and laid siege to the great Northern castle. News reached Rhaegar's camp that a Northern force was mustering in White Harbor to the South that could not be allowed to march to the aid of Winterfell. Knowing a force of sixteen thousand would not be needed to take the castle, Rhaegar commanded Ser Jonothor Darry of the Kingsguard to lead eight thousand men against White Harbor at once. The knight left with his force soon after, while the king remained behind to wait out the last line of defenders of the North at Winterfell.
Two months later news reached the king that Ser Jonothor had engaged the Northern host at New Castle, along with Tywin Lannister's much larger force. Only two thousand men had been mustered at White Harbor, far fewer than the Northmen had led the king to believe. The battle was swift and brutal, with no survivors from the Northern army and only two hundred casualties on the side of the crown. With the minor Northern force dealt with, the wounded Ned Stark had no further aid outside of the walls he found himself cowering behind. Before long, Winterfell would fall and the second rebellion of Houses Baratheon and Stark would be extinguished.
While the king's forces were no doubt prepared for it, starving out Winterfell's defenders or directly assaulting the walls would not be needed. In late August, four months after laying siege to the ancient seat of House Stark, the Lord of the North succumbed to his wounds. The Northern lord had been grievously wounded at the Battle of Fendun six months earlier, but was expected to make a full recovery in time. According to reports however, Lord Stark's condition had deteriorated over the months and after a long night of pain and cold sweats, Ned Stark was dead. In similar fashion to the what occurred in the Stormlands, Ned Stark's son, Robb, not looking to prolong his people's pain, surrendered to Rhaegar on the same night. While Rhaegar had promised to show no quarter to Ned Stark and Stannis Baratheon, he would not take the lives of the new lords of the North and the Stormlands. Robb Stark and Renly Baratheon were but children, in no way responsible for the actions of their kin. This provided Rhaegar with an opportunity to start fresh with House Stark and House Baratheon. By not stripping the two great houses of their lands and titles, the king had ensured the balance of power was maintained as it had been for centuries, appeasing the local lords of the two kingdoms. By sparing their lives, the two would forever after bear gratitude to their king for showing restraint in his actions and the king would be viewed as a just and merciful liege, to the benefit of all. With orders sent to the few remaining Northern garrisons to stand down, Rhaegar marched for White Harbor to board the Iron Fleet back to the capital.
Upon arrival in King's Landing, Rhaegar Targaryen was once more met with both good and bad news. The king found himself again staring down at his children on the port of the capital, another face added to his growing brood. Rhaegar Targaryen Cersei had called him, second of his name. He bore an uncanny resemblance to his lord-father and the other Targaryen men before him. His silver hair already growing on his head, his violet eyes shimmering in the light of the stars. Now, with four children and three sons to his name, Rhaegar's line was at last secure. The joyous news was quickly put to rest when Ser Barristan Selmy informed the king of another rebellion.
"Lord Matthos of Dalston Keep has made claim that your rule is weak, your grace", said the aging knight. "He has taken this opportunity to claim independence from your rule."
"How many men does Lord Matthos command Ser Barristan?" Asked the king, with a clear look of distain on his face.
"One thousand your grace. Hardly enough to win a rebellion, but enough to hold his keep in the absence of the royal army."
The king pondered a moment. Shall I ever be rid of these meddlesome rebels? He turned back to Ser Barristan.
"Very well. Keep watch over my family Ser Barristan, keep them safe. I shall deal with Lord Matthos personally."
Barely a moment from his ship, Rhaegar was already on the march again. Knowing his men had fought long and hard in the Stormlands and the North, the king asked his men for volunteers to march on Dalston Keep with him. He would not force those who had done what was asked of them, to do it again so soon after. The Silver King waited a few hours for the word to be sent out. He waited outside the walls just west of the city for any and all who would accept his call to arms. By nightfall, four thousand men had gathered around their king, more than enough to take the keep. With Lord Commander Hightower and Ser Arthur Dayne at his side, King Rhaegar marched on Dalston Keep. With only one thousand swords at his command, Matthos Gaunt's rebellion could not hope to endure. By November, Rhaegar's forces had sensed the defenders of the keep were low enough on food, water and morale for a direct assault on the walls. Starved and dehydrated, the garrison put up little fight. Lord Matthos was dragged from his hall and brought before the king in the courtyard of the keep. The king had grown tired of these rebellions and knew a message had to be sent.
"Kneel, Lord Matthos", where the only words the king offered. He had abandoned all other customaries and courtesies.
The proud lord did so, not fearing the verdict that was to come. In his final act of defiance, the lord spat at the feet of the king and cursed the name Targaryen and all those who bore it. With that, Rhaegar raised Blackfyre high in the air and brought it down upon the old lord's neck, cleaving his head from his shoulders.
With Lord Gaunt's death, another rebellion was ended, the third since Rhaegar was named king little over four years earlier. Will my rule ever be secure? The king asked of himself. Am I doomed to lead my house into ruin? The thought haunted him. For the first time since the death of his father and Robert Baratheon's rebellion, the realm knew peace. How long would it last?