The Smasher of Beetles: A Game of Thrones AAR

[SgtSmuckers]

Chapter 16: Ambition Rising

You little bugger! You think you can make amends with me now that I am victorious? I think not! You do not go bandying words like traitor & enemy and expect someone to forget it! Family we were before you broke that bond child lord. Oh, you know what else? I am breaking the betrothal between you and my daughter Jeyne! I shall find someone much more promising than you and more honorable than you. Someone who wouldn't label their future father-in-law as a traitor. *spits* You have made an enemy, the great Orson Lannister does not forget those who spur him!

"Have you any clue as to what he is saying", whispers one courtier to another as they watch their lord walk back and forth waving his hands as he more or less shouts to his chancellor what to write back in response to Lord Gawen Lannister. "Not a clue", the courtier whispers back. "but It's obviously very nasty and unpleasant".

Finished with what I wanted Cerrena to write back to the child lord, I waved her on with the next letter. Putting down her quill and picking up the next piece of paper, Cerrena clears her throat and announces, "To the great Lord Orson Lannister, The Smasher of Beetles, Ser Beetlebane, Keeper of Brightroar, The Smasher of Mountains..." The Smasher of Mountains? I've yet to hear of that one? Hmm, I like it, I must find the person who attached that herald to me and reward them for doing me that honor. Coming out of my thoughts I noticed that Cerrena was waiting for my response. Seeing me just stare at her she repeats herself, saying, "The Lady of the Blackwater sends an invitation to participate in her tourney. Will you m'lord?" Hmmm, my last one did not go so well, but I shall give it another go.

Ding! Bang! Clang! Went my armour as I was flung from the saddle, rolling and bouncing before I finally stopped. At least last time I had a view of the sky, this time it was all black and smelled of dust and dirt. "Better luck next time m'lord!", Ser Meryn Trant shouts as he rides back by me. I repeat what he said to me mockingly under my breath. As I stood I made sure to stick out my tongue at where his voice came from. Unfortunately, no one saw due to the dirt that was clogging up the face guard. I could easily cut him down if given a blade.

"You know that was just like your last joust, expect you landed on your face this time around", quips my wife. I narrow my eyes when I turn to look at her as my man servant takes off my armour. Maybe jousting was not for me, but I will keep trying. I am going to make that Trant fellow eat his words.

Returning home after the tourney was finished, I found that another child was born to my son! Another girl it was, nothing wrong with that, but I am going to start worrying if we don't get another male heir soon. They decided to name her Kyra. I would have gone with Khuura, but it is close enough. It seems we are more prone to daughters than sons. They are still young though, so there is all the time in the world, or at least a large portion of it for more children to come.

By the bloody beetles, what could Ser Daven deem so important as to come storming into my private lounge where I was playing smash the beetles with my granddaughter Khuuina. "Sorry to barge in m'lord, but this is urgent news. Lord Gawen of Casterly Rock has declared war on the Lord Paramount under allegations of tyranny", states Daven as he stands in front of me. What does this have to do with me? That little miscreant will get what is coming to him. I make my feelings known to Marshal Daven. "That my be m'lord, but he has requested that all his vassals take up arms for him", he replies to me. Bah! I helped little man and his father before him in their fights, but I will not help this brat in his fight. To hell with him, I'd rather help my kinsman on the pointy throne, at least he does not call his family traitors!

I didn't even have to lift a finger in this fight. The Non-Lannister who calls himself "Paramount" did all the heavy lifting for me! He came in and stomped the forces of the child lord, quickly defeating him. With no troops to fight me, the child lord was forced to release me from any obligations. Shows him right. In honor of our easy victory I commenced that a feast was to be held in honor of our blood-less victory (at least for me). I wanted something special for this one. Some of my newly acquired vassals from the mountain man still resented me and questioned my authority on decisions or laws I made. I dully made sure they were invited as I paid for a great musician to recount The Rain of Dungamere. Even the most traitorous of vassals quivered in fear to that song of my deed in crushing my enemy.

Aside from that, the feast went splendidly! I kept on one the Essosi chefs who had created the dishes for my sons wedding. Extravagant and delectably delicious were his creations. Oh how I loved to eat the food he made. There is always a critic though. Master Jonah said the food was to rich and harsh on his belly. The gall! I hope poor Sercinoah did not here his disdain. He is quite sensitive about peoples opinions on his cooking. "You no like you leave! No insult Sercina food! Me love it!", I shout at him, fed up with his rude and disrespectful complaints.

My other vassal was quite the opposite of the whiny vassal. Why he loved the food just as much as I did and the wine too! We talked on for ages on the different foods we liked and dishes the other might have not known of. It was many dishes and cups of wine later until we had finished our conversation. By that time, everyone had already gone to bed and it was just the two of us. I must invite him over more often!

I did not wake till some time after noon the next day after that feast. It was good to have made a new friend while celebrating my accomplishments, but what now? What should be my next goal? Hmmm... ahah! There is the matter of the Non-Lannister. The title of "paramount" does not rightfully belong to him. If it should go to anyone, it ought to be a Lannister. Him being granted that title never sat well with me. Lannisters have ruled the Westerlands since the Age of Heros! That should not end now, nor anytime soon. We still held Casterly under the upstart child lord, but I am doubtful that will last long with his current actions. It seems the task shall have to fall to me now.

I best find a way to do it though. What better way than marriage to get the help I'll need. The Lannister family is still a family worth marrying, even with our current condition. When last I was in Kingslanding, I noticed that my kinsman's son was not betrothed and unmarried. Yes, my daughter shall give forth kings! A suitable match for Jeyne. Much better than the child lord for sure. I shall get Cerrena to pen the offer right away! What of Khuuista? Maybe the fish people? I have heard the old lord bore many children. Most being bastards, yet that does not stop them from being bound to uphold the pact created by marriage since they still come from noble blood. It would be suiting if it were matrilineal. Khuuista my dear, you shall keep my dynasty going should anything happen to Khuu.

I received responses to my offers rather speedily. My kinsman on the pointy throne insisted we come as soon as possible so that a wedding may commence. I was a bit surprised by his response. Well, it seems he did not want to miss this opportunity so we had our things packed and took leave by port for Kingslanding. "I can't believe I'm going to marry a prince!", squealed Jeyne as we entered Blackwater bay. Kingslanding wasn't far now.

We were met with a grand reception. The halls and keep were decorated with Lions and Stags. Soothing music oozed out from every direction one turned and my favorite was the giant fountain that only poured forth Arbor Gold. I talked much and laughed much. I was amazed. This was nothing like my last visit to Kingslanding. I did not smell a single piece of dung! The ceremony was to be held on the morrow.

Once the exchange of vows and cloak were finished the feasting began. Never have I seen so many tables littered with food. You could throw a stone and not hit the last table laden with the concoctions. I was seated next to my niece's daughter who ruled that Erie place now. She had the gold locks and green eyes of a Lannister, but the poor thing had a club foot. Other than that she was a fascinating person. We exchanged stories and jokes of a myriad of things. Why we even got into my kinsman's cellar and snagged a few bottles of some Dornish wine. We were tipsy to say the least after we had finished the last drop. Why was I never introduced to her before?

It was a shame to have to leave. It was happily dreamy like there with the food, wine, and friendship... oh and the beetles. I showed my new friend how to smash them. As much as I did not want to leave it is a good thing I did, for on the return home I was met with a unexpected surprise. "Who are dese people?", I ask my castellan when I strode through the door of my great hall. There were people all along the entrance, the columns, and the halls! "This my lord, is the family and courtiers of Casterly Rock", my castellan replied.

Why in the Beetleborn are they here? I spotted little man, his wife and children, but not the child lord. After some questions it turns out that Casterly Rock had been taken over by the Non-Lannister. He banished the child lord to the nights watch and expelled the court. He had no right to do such a thing! I held the majority of Casterly so he could not fully dictate control. If anyone had the right to Casterly Rock, it was me, not some small upstart house. Casterly belongs to the Lannisters!

*No clue why he is still in my court*​

 

[SgtSmuckers]

I am going to be going on vacation for about a week. I won't be able to post anymore chapters during that time, but I will be able to still get on the forum through my phone.

 

[KolyFrog]

It's funny how Orson turned out to be a savant in swordplay

 

[Dr Pearceson]

Just read through the entire AAR over the course of the day. It's hilarious, I love the writing style, the humour and the editing of the pictures. I hope Orson ends up as Lord of the Westerlands, so he can become Warden of the West, to defend Westeros from any beetle invasions

 

[SgtSmuckers]

It's funny how Orson turned out to be a savant in swordplay

I know, he clearly was blessed with some luck. In the words of Shakespeare, "Fortune favors fools"

Just read through the entire AAR over the course of the day. It's hilarious, I love the writing style, the humour and the editing of the pictures. I hope Orson ends up as Lord of the Westerlands, so he can become Warden of the West, to defend Westeros from any beetle invasions

Thank you so much for the compliment. I'm glad you find it enjoyable!

 

[Andre Massena]

This is hilarious and so wrong

 

[SgtSmuckers]

Vacation time is over, Its time to get back to work, sadly. Minus the having to work again comes good news. Me write more AAR! The next update will be this week, in a few of days as I need to get my juices flowing again.

Onwards to the smashing fellow brethren!

 

[Putsam]

glad to see you didn't lose interest because i definetly didn't

 

[SgtSmuckers]

Chapter 17: Like Lemon Pie

This new title looks nice and all, but it is hollow like the husk of a long dead beetle. Lord Orson of Casterly Rock they call me... expect I have no bloody rock! What I have is a Fang, a Port, and the Westerland's dump heap! How can I be called Lord of the Rock if I only have the pebbles around the boulder?

A remedy is needed for my situation, yet I cannot overcome the forces of the upstarts who claim my ancestral home. So frustrating this is. The death of cousin/Marshal Daven only aids my fraying nerves. He helped me in my efforts to stomp out the beetles and enemies I faced. It will be hard to replace him, but the dog fellow should prove adept. That is if he sobers up for once.

That stupid dog! I appoint him as my marshal and he goes and dies the next day?! Drunken fool drowned himself in Northern Mead and whatever foul piss he could get his hands on. Had he not gone out drinking to celebrate his rise in status, perhaps he would still be alive. *sigh* Able bodied commanders are becoming fewer and fewer in my court.

There is the bastard fellow. A bit odd he is, spends to much time with the stable hands if you ask me, but a proven commander nonetheless. At least he isn't a drunkard, so work ought to get done.

I have to much time on my hands. My lands are doing fairly well without my immediate help and all I do is think, and smash beetles of course. That upstart in Casterly needs to be dealt with. My nephew cannot aid me and my ally on the pointy throne cannot either... unless the upstart strikes at me first. I am under the protection of the pointy throne and any actions taken against me would be actions taken against the pointy throne. Hmmm the upstart is not a fool though.

"M,lord", whispered the empty darkness. I refrained from jumping out of my skin at the voice, yet the beetle in my hand was not so lucky as I crushed it in my disconcert. Standing up I scan the room, lit only by the fire of the hearth, for where the voice came from.

Sighing aloud, Tyrion Lannister said, "I'm down here cousin". Looking down to my right I see cousin Tyrion draped in black with a hood over his head.

"Sit, sit, I bring news of my efforts of intrigue", he continues, walking to where I kept the brandy, pouring me and then himself a rather large portion.

I sip the brandy while wiping the beetle juice from my hand onto a nearby kerchief. Tyrion downs his and pours more for himself.

"You member when you had feast for you rise in staytus?", I ask Tyrion. He looks back at me and sadly smiles, saying, "Of course I do. It was one of the happiest days I've ever had".

"I asked you how acrobat did trick, an you said you find out", I continue. A devious grin split his face and he replied, "Indeed I found out how, through many... examples of her many tricks". I nod my head figuring that was all he was going to explain to me.

"Tell me des news you bring", I say to him. Sipping on his second glass, he replies, "I've come to tell you that Lord Paramount Raynald has died, although died is a bit of an understatement. He was more likely murdered, yet no one knows exactly who did it. They simply suspect".

Here I was thinking of the upstart and my spyman comes in to tell me that he is dead. I should think of the people I disdain more often. He was disliked by many of the lords of the Westerlands, myself included, so as to who the person or peoples behind this, the list is long.

"Who rulez now?", I ask Tyrion. "His daughter Mylessa does", he answers, "From all things said about her, she's a spiteful bitch who despised her father. She most likely did him in".

She sounds too ambitious. Perhaps her next goal will be me. Yes, let her attack me. I'll be sure to pay her back once the might of the entire realm falls upon her. She'll go down kicking and screaming as I squash her like a beetle. "I also bring disturbing news cousin", spoke Tyrion, setting his empty cup upon the table.

THEY WOULD DARE TO DO SUCH A THING! Do they have any idea who I am and what I've done to those that have conspired against me! These plotting miscreants best be on their guard, for if I find out who they are I'll tear them limb from limb and make them watch as I feed it to the beetles! It will be a slow death. No doubt I have made enemies, yet most are dead. Perhaps that scheming witch Tyrion speaks of is at the head of this. She has already murdered her father, and I am most likely her next target. Bring it witch.

I shall watch my son's every move. He will be plastered to my side. We shall eat together, drink together, and if need be sleep together. He will become my bodyguard when in reality I will become his. Nothing can escape my magnificently keen green eyes. They pierce the dark and spy the tiniest species of beetles. Plots are no match for me.

"Lord Orson!", shouts Marshal Hill running into the great hall while court is in session. In his hand he's hold a slip of paper. Hill runs up to my daughter-in-law, handing her the paper. Cerrena quickly scans it, her eyes open wide.

"To the greedy", Cerrena paused taking a deep breath, "Imbecile Orson, may your humors rot and life become unbearable for you and your ilk. I declare war for my rightful claim on the de-jure of Casterly Rock. Our armies shall meet and you will succumb or perish!"

She has gall to call me a moron when she herself has sealed her own fate! I will show this wench who the real dolt is. You may get the first laugh, but I will be the one who laughs last! My court watches me in silence. My knuckles are white from gripping the arms of my seat. Everyone could hear the crackle of the wood as my anger grew and my grip tightened. At last I slowly stand up and motion Tyrion over. I bend over and whisper in his ear what I want him to do. He flashes me a smile before he leaves the great hall to do my bidding.

"Call all armies an meet at Fang. We hold der", I say to my marshal. "Lemme go wid fatha, I show are enemies are powar", my son says to me.

"No, you stay protec family", I quickly reply back to him. "But you..", he starts to say in response before I interrupt him. "No, you only hair and me cant risk you".

Khuu clenches his jaw and walks away. He should know by now that no parent wants to risk their children, especially when its your heir that people are plotting against.

The likelihood that I will win is poor, yet I need not win. Just weaken the wench and bank on her ambitions. I smile to myself. My goals are coming to fruition without me doing much. Its as simple as eating one of Sercinoah's pies.

"What are you smiling about husband?", asks my wife. I turn to her and see my devilish smile reflected in her eyes. "No thing ma wife, jus thiking of Sercina leman tart pies" I remark to her. She scoffs at me and fusses how I can think of something like that at a time like this.

Yes, this will be just like his pies. First the tartness and then heavenly sweetness.

​

 

[SgtSmuckers]

Sorry its not more, but more will come soon

 

[Dr Pearceson]

It seems the Lady of the West wants those lands back. I'm hoping Orson has a trick up his ingenius sleeve. I'm sure he'll find someway to smash them all like beetles

 

[SgtSmuckers]

Chapter 18: The Fool of Sarsfield

"We can't hope to defeat them m'lord, even with the aid of the hired sellswords of Ser Harbert and company", stated Marshal Samwell Hill as he stared at me from across the table of maps and plans. As much as it pains me, I must agree with my marshal. We swiftly dispatched the scouting party she had sent ahead of her main forces, but our own reports show that she doubles that of my own forces. Beetles be damned! You best come through cousin little man.

At least the former land of mountain man will come in handy. Mountainous country with narrow paths and steep drops. Should my enemy come, they will be bottled up trying to get through the mountain paths as we slaughter them. Fortune would favor me, except numbers do matter and she has many of those in comparison to mine.

I must stick with the plan though. Gritting my teeth I declare, "We stay an war". Many looked at me, but they knew that once I made up my mind, there was no going back. The old sellsword I hired simply shrugged his shoulders. He was getting payed anyhow, so what did he care if we won or lost. It is necessary to fight, I'll not lie on my back even though I can. I will bring the upstart's welp down.

"They come!", shouts a breathless messenger as he barges into the pavilion. Grabbing Brightroar, I stand and motion away the officers and nobles to get to their posts while I make my way to the forefront of my army.

"SHEILDS!", I roar to my men as a rain of arrows pour down around me. Ser Maynard, although aged, still warred by my side as my bodyguard as he had not last any of his ability to fight. He raised his shield to cover me as I stood looking at the advancing force. The enemy's lines were both long and wide, fortunately they will greatly shrink when they start to climb up. We returned the favor and shot our own missiles into the advancing force.

"Just like old times ma lord, eh?", said Ser Maynard as he stood beside me. Yes it is. I don't feel like I've lost any of the vigor from my youth, in fact, I believe quite the opposite has occurred, yet those times were a decade and more ago. To think I'll be considered old in a few odd years seems strange.

Pushing away these thoughts, I turn my mind back to the battle at hand. The enemy had to bunch up to get through the passes, giving me an opportune moment. "Charge dem!", I yell to my men, leading the way as I rush down, Brightroar held high.
~~~~~
"HAH! YOU DEAD NOW!", I say to my foe as his sloppy swing misses me and strikes the ground. "DIS HOW YOU DO IT!", I exclaim, bringing Brightroar down in an overhead swing. Cutting off his sword-arm at the shoulder, I proceed to give him a kick, sending him rolling back down the hill to trip up his comrades.

The fighting was thick all around me, It had been days now since we first clashed, and I have yet to spot an enemy commander. The cowards would send others to do their dirty work. I spit on a nearby dead body. "Who would dar charenge me! Da great Lion Lord!", I bellow over the clamor of steel and the screams of the dying. It would seem that my offer was heard, for no sooner did I propose this challenge, a distant banner was making its way to where I stood.

Finally being able to make it out, it was the Banner of the lord of Sarsfield. Bah! They are usually known for their archers not swordsman. A cowards weapon the bow is, maybe the Sarsfield lord will be True to the Mark and wield one, or perhaps he has seen through the cowards weapon and chose a mans weapon.

Out from the ranks of men comes the young lord of Sarsfield. I expected someone older, this boy barely had any hairs on his chin. "Lord Orson I presume", he shouts to me. Our lines receded from each other as a stalemate ensued. "Surrender and you will be treated by the standards your position deserves, if you fail to heed these demands then on my honor I challenge you to a duel", he continues. "There will be peace or there will be death", he finishes.

Cocky he is! This young fool thinks to take on one of the greatest swordsman that has ever lived and beat him? He almost reminds me of myself. "Go back boy, me no want to shed blod so young", I yell back in response. His face scrunches up in anger as he proceeds to yell back, "I am no boy old man, or are you too much of a coward to fight me!" That was not a wise thing to say fool, I was giving you chance to live and you spurned my nice offer.

"I hop it a quick death fo you", I say to him as I step out from the ranks. "My blade will be true to the mark", responds the young lord of Sarsfield using his house words.

We circle each other, moving clockwise, always being sure to face one another. I wait for him to make the first move, knowing that his inexperience will be his downfall. I have never felt pity when facing an opponent, yet in this case I did, but only slightly as his insult took most away.

He comes in, shield out, jabbing over the rim. I parry his blow, nimbly jumping back as he tries to bash me with his shield. Sidestepping to his left, I deliver a wide swing. He catches it on his shield. You can hear the sound of wood splintering as he caught my blow. I continue my circle as he comes around with a backhanded swing of his sword, missing me and throwing himself off balance.

I rush him, batting the shield from his hand where it landed with a squelch in the muddy ground. He tries to lash back with his sword, but it is a poor thing in comparison with Brightroar. Deflecting his blow with a parry that leaves his sword to far from protecting his body, I thrust Brightroar into the cavity of the young lord's chest, shearing through the plate to pierce the soft inside. His eyes go wide as he looks down and then slowly up to me. Blood begins to drip from his gaping maw.

"Me also tru to mark", I whisper to him as he slides off my blade to land on the ground with a thud.

Silence ensues before battle is again rejoined with shouts and a charge from the enemy that is met by a charge from my own forces. I stare down at the lifeless body by my feet. What a fool, he thought to make a name of himself by challenging me, but instead he ended up meeting the stranger. I think we could have gotten along had circumstances been different. Such a waste of talent young fool. You were not my enemy, the wench you fight under is. Another reason why the upstart's daughter needs to be put down.

The days continued as my forces fought on. The enemy soon became unbearable. As much as I hated to retreat, I did, heading for Moreland. I now had a sixth of what I had once. The she devil's forces moved on to lay siege to the Fang and Tendring, so the reports said. I am powerless to stop them as they pilfer my lands. Wanting to be alone in my tent, I send away the nobles and officers. I walk over to where I kept the Arbor gold and not even bothering to pour a glass, I just drank from the jug.

"I hope you save some of that for me", comes a familiar voice as it enters my tent. Turning around I spy cousin little man, his clothes covered with dust. "I bring glad tidings that will make even the crone jump for joy", continues Tyrion as he makes his way towards me. I quickly set down the jug and demand him to tell me the news I had hoped to receive.

HAHA! That ambitious wench! Now I just have to wait for her to get her just deserts. By just, I mean covered in dung and beetles! "We still have a problem cousin", says Tyrion, bringing me from my thoughts to the cold reality at hand. "Tendring has been captured and the Fang will soon follow after. You know what you must do if you wish to get your revenge", Tyrion stated.

Why must he ruin my moment of triumph with this. My forefathers would be rolling in their graves to think the lion would have to submit the demands of this nobody and her house. I find the image of me penning my name and seal to a piece of parchment in which I, the great Orson Lannister, submit to the demands of a woman unbearable.

With the sour taste that was building in my mouth I remind myself that things will be sour, and then sweet soon. I snatch up my signet, heat up the wax and stab the paper with the red stick. A blob of the stuff sticks and I smash down with the ring. "Get dis way from me", I grumble to Tyrion, knowing that he will assign the correct choice of words, as the words I would choose would be none too pleasant.

Some days past before a reply came back. I was livid at her degrading response, and spent quite some time bashing all the beetles I could find.

After the hassle of returning home and sending away what levies remained to me, a reminder of what I had sacrificed to tear down the she devil came. She had received the demands by my kinsman on the pointy throne to cease her hostilities towards me, yet failed to heed them. For her action, or rather her lack of action, she has been declared a traitor, and the last person to make him angry was relieved of his titles and sent packing to a very cold place, with some very high walls.

Gleefully awaiting the day this would happen, it came to no surprise that news came forth that she would try and fight against him. I was quite pleased that she sent me a message asking for my aid. I had the raven she sent shot and her letter torn to pieces. She would get no help from me, rather, I will aid her demise!

Having gathered my meager forces to await the hordes of allies that will soon be marching here, I kicked up my feet, grabbed a jug of Arbor in one hand, and a beetle to smash in the other. Ahhhh, war has never been better. I had just gotten into a comfortable position in my chair when the door to my lounge flew open and the sound of stomping feet entered. Bloody beetles, what is it this time.

When the person strode to where I could see them I was quite surprised. It was my brother, I hadn't seen him in ages. He's much more wrinkley now and his blond hair has turned snow white. "While you sit here brother, my son, your nephew has been imprisoned and is being tortured daily", he says to me. I about choke on my wine. Looking up at him I see his red rimmed eyes and angry glare.

She cannot touch me, so she deems to harm my family to spite me... YOU WILL BE BEGGING FOR DEATH AFTER IM DONE WITH YOU! You think this does any harm to me? No! This simply makes things harder for you! I'll repay this debt for your crime bitch. I'll inflict pain so horrible the gods will turn their eyes from the things that will be done. You'll be begging for death to come, yet it will be out of your reach. Death will come at a tortoises pace.

I ride for Casterly Rock with what forces I have, I'll try and rescue my nephew from her wretched hands. Unfortunately, what forces I have seem to make this prospect unlikely. Apparently this pie still has some sour left.

​

 

[Van der Gent]

Yesterday I smashed a beetle that had invaded my bed using the force of the mighty khuu. Lord Orson is a true inspiration.

 

[SgtSmuckers]

Yesterday I smashed a beetle that had invaded my bed using the force of the mighty khuu. Lord Orson is a true inspiration.

I dub thee an honorary member of the Beetle Brigade, for thy heroic actions taken against the beetle kind and their ilk

 

[Italianajt]

Truthfully I'm teaching my two-year old son to smash bugs with his shoes whilst shouting Khuu! Khuu! Khuu!

 

[Van der Gent]

Not all bugs right? Only those considered pests I hope. Otherwise it'd be... Well, let's put it in game terms: Wroth and cruel aren't the best of traits to give a child.

How's Lord Orson's beetle smashing going? Any progress?

 

[RaolDuke]

Wroth and cruel are great traits. Just look how well Orson is doing

 

[Italianajt]

Lo, let this die the death it was due...

 

[SgtSmuckers]

Chapter 19: And so it Begins

"We cannot hope to break the defenses of such a mighty fortress Lord Orson", reminds a most annoying commander of mine. Well poppycock! My old maester, whats his face, used to tell stories of past Lannisters. My favorites were of Lann 'the Clever'. I think we share much in common with one another... besides blood, we have outstanding wit! Well, the stories differ, but my favorite was where Lann discovered a secret way into Casterly Rock from a narrow cleft.

It was so narrow that he had to strip naked and bathe himself in butter in order to squeeze through. After getting inside and learning where they slept and all the secret passages, he some how smuggled in a pride of lions! Imagine having to bathe those great beast in butter and squeeze them through the gap! Moving along, the then Lord of Casterly and his sons are all set upon and devoured by these buttered furballs. With no men left to defend the Rock, Lann claimed it for himself, along with the late Lord Casterly's wife and daughters. Now, if only I can find that cleft.

"A message has arrived for you Lord Orson", speaks a courtier, interrupting my thoughts of feeding my enemies to a pride of lions. Ahh yes, I forgot we were in a meeting discussing how to better siege the Rock, as supplies were still coming and going from the keep. I wave the young man over to where I was seated and bade him to break the seal and read me the contents.
​

Dear Father,
I bring great news, a daughter has been born to myself and Cerenna. The wet nurse believes her to be a blessed child!
Your son,
Khuu
​

Another lion has joined the pride, what joyous news this is, yet I cannot help but feel that this new cub means the loss of another. Stepping out of the pavilion I look towards the keep of my ancestors, a keep rightfully belonging to my family, a keep in which my own kin is being tortured and made to suffer. The anger following through me feels different than usual. Rather than wanting to explode, I just continue to seethe. I want her to suffer, I want her family to suffer, her servants, her pets, and even the gods she prays to! Forget this waiting, I shall make good on my word.

"Prisoners", I say to one of my commanders. He blanches and stutters out, "We have captured a score". Silence and eyes greet me from the gathered elite. "Gader dem", I softly say. Some turn their heads while others nod. I make a note of those who turn. Once gathered, with bound hands, I order them to get on their knees. With Brightroar in hand I go to the man with his head held high, anger clear on his eyes. "Who you serve", I ask him. The man proud says "Lady Paramount Myle...” he never finishes as Brightroar took off his head. “Wong answer", I say to the twitching body. Turning to the next man, who has clearly pissed himself, I ask him the same question. "I serve you ma lord!", He pleas. His head too went rolling as I again replied, "Wong answer".

And so the process repeated itself eighteen more times, each trying to come up with an answer, and none succeeding. What they fail to grasp is that I do not care what they say. They took up arms for that damned woman, they helped her in attacking my men, my lands, and my family. I plan to repay them all.

My efforts have not gone unnoticed, months have gone by and all enemies I come across die. No prisoners taken, all put to the sword by my own hand. It’s much like smashing pesky beetles, except these 'bugs' are bigger and make a larger mess when you squish them. I am doing the world a favor of getting rid of these vermin. The only problem is that the mother of all these rats still lives and so more vermin will spawn. Luckily for me she foams at the mouth for my blood and is coming my way.

“Sire! Reinforcements come!”, shout a nearby solider. Squinting towards the peak, I see a sight that causes me great joy and great anger. Riding down the mountainside is the witch along with her shelled banner! I bellow out laughing, my men look at me as if crazed. FOOL! Does she not know that forces from all of Westeros surround her? Had she gone to any other army they would have accepted her surrender... not I though, I plan to make her suffer.

“Thin front! Me want bait her!”, I roar to my messengers who relate to the flank commanders my plan. Having bolstered the flanks with the center forces, my forces, the stupid she-devil takes this a sign of weakness and charges headlong. I order spears and pikes to the front. In came her cavalry. The ground shook as they charged, and my, did my face light up at seeing the horror on some of those riders as they skewered their horses and themselves on the waiting pikes. Having seen the impact, the forces I sent to the flanks converged to the center, boxing the enemy in from three sides.

With the charge halted, I fly into the fight with a frenzy. I can hear Sir Maynard shouting some dribble at me. I barely register what he was saying as I was fixed on the waving banner. Dodging kicking horses and would be assailants, I burst through the fleshy exterior and find my prize. Surrounded by four horsemen was the cause of my ire… Lady Mylessa. Dressed in close-fitting chain with no helmet marring her features I found it quite odd that this person has caused me so much trouble. I have never seen her before and I was expecting someone much more round and grotesque. She noticed me and sent two of her guards my way. Just two? I am assuming she doesn’t know who I am then.

Both spur their horses my way, swords raised. I stand waiting till the last moment, pivoting left and down into a crouch between the two beasts, Brightroar following me into a horse’s leg. The left guard’s sword grazed the top of my helm, while the right guard’s horse went flipping forward, crushing him with its girth. Angry that I let him graze me I returned the favor by slapping the flat end of Brightroar on his horses flank, rearing it. As he toppled from the saddle and landed flat on his back I made sure I ‘grazed’ his head back… by taking it off.

Looking back at my rival, I see recognition and fear flicker across her, not as ugly as I thought, face. Not waiting for her soldiers to realize I was in their midst, I dash forward. Her other two guards made ready, they of course would suffer the same fate as the ones before them. One leaps off his horse to come at me from the ground. He swings at me with a chop of his sword. I parry the blow to my left and backhand him. You could see white specks fly from his mouth as the blow knocked out some of his teeth. Not giving him a chance, I quickly thrust and retract Brightroar, kicking the dying man into the path of his comrade’s horse. The man distracted by trampling his own ally was not quick enough to block Brightroar’s swing. He lost his arm because of this. Hearing the last guard topple from his horse screaming all the while, I pace towards this stupid girl. She does nothing, one would think they would run from such a terror like me, but she just stares. I grip her arm and yank her off her horse. Putting Brightroar against her throat I take off my helm and grin, saying, "And now it begin".

Spoiler: MUHAHAHA

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[SgtSmuckers]

Rejoice for Lord Orson is not through with his quest to save the world with his magnificence!​

Dear Reader,

I sincerely apologize for leaving everyone hanging and not notifying anyone that I was forced to take a break due to some life stuff that always manages to get in the way of me wanting to do things that don't contribute to IRL. While I will continue writing out the tale of Orson, it will not be as regular as it was before. So expect some time (like a week+) between each chapter. xoxoxo

Sincerely,
Your fellow beetle smasher