Valyrian Steel: A Game of Thrones Mod AAR
- Thread starter Henry v. Keiper
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I didn't know that actually. I guess I'm also a bit ignorant of Dornish history, so I wouldn't know about that first one.
Also, they need to update the Elder Kings mod.
Dorne you mean?
Maybe the Faceless temple in Braavos?
Maybe it went somewhere with Gobo, because No One Knows Where Gobo Goes.
Okay you dudes.
I'm still alive. And still intend to continue this. I had difficulties with real life hitting me again, as well as other real life responsibilities kidnapping me and taking me to a cabin in the woods. I've also had issues with my accountability software conflicting with the forum, for some odd reason. However, things seem to be working now, so yayzors.
Updates will continue.
I'm still alive. And still intend to continue this. I had difficulties with real life hitting me again, as well as other real life responsibilities kidnapping me and taking me to a cabin in the woods. I've also had issues with my accountability software conflicting with the forum, for some odd reason. However, things seem to be working now, so yayzors.
Updates will continue.
Hooray! Welcome back, @Henry v. Keiper! Glad to hear you still plan on continuing this excellent work.
Welcome back, @Henry v. Keiper! Glad to hear you still plan on continuing this excellent work.
"Did you miss me?"
I leave it to you to find out whose quote that is.
And, I guess it's time for a re-read.
I leave it to you to find out whose quote that is.
And, I guess it's time for a re-read.
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Oh, I'm caught up now? Aw sweet, I binged both this and the Threedrops AAR for the past two days cause I had nothing to do for a while, I am VERY much a fan.
Welp, ran out of stuff to read. Guess I gotta reread it all.
Welp, ran out of stuff to read. Guess I gotta reread it all.
Hooray!
Thanks!
Or do I?
Yes, yes, reread my stuff over and over again until the propaganda seeps in and you all adore me, bwa ha ha ha...
Good. Because I definitely don't want to give up on this one, and I do have some material to work with.
Great to see you looking to take this up again, HvK! Welcome back.
Thanks!
Now go read everything else I've written.
I think that Croatia CK1 AAR is around somewhere...
Is it ded?
Not dead at all, I dare say.
And welcome back, Henry. As always, we will patiently wait for the next update. I just finished rereading this gem and I have to say yet again that what you created here really inspires me as a writer. This and General_BT's "Rome AARisen" the most, if you know which one I am talking about.
Who knows. I think the "record" currently on breaks between posts on an AAR is 6½ years ... so there is hope yetIs it ded?
Hey Henry, great AAR and awesome writing as always. Hope you can keep it up. Good luck!
Nice, I've been remembering good AGoT AARs of old. Looking forward to reading more!
Chapter 6
Albar
The flames rose high from the logs, surrounded by the old stones of the fireplace in the Dun Fort’s great hall. They shifted about in a sporadic dance, and their crackling noise was like a strange melody. Albar stared at them with impassive eyes, and the light from the fire gleamed off the metal chains wrapped around his neck. Across from him, seated in another chair, was her ladyship, Laena Valzyren. She was a year older, but seemed little changed in appearance, aside from being a notch higher or so. Her silver locks seemed to take on a metallic quality about them as the light from the flames spread across her visage. Albar took note of her violet eyes, the same shade as her father’s, then turned his head back to the flames.
Sometimes he saw too much of her father in her eyes, and it reminded me of that day when the flames of Jelmamza consumed the Unicorn Prince’s body. A great lord and warrior, lost before he perhaps had a moment to truly shine. What would have happened if Rhaekar had chosen to take the Iron Throne, instead of forsaking it and returning to Duskendale? What if he had chosen to rule the kingdoms, with House Valzyren in charge? Would his greatness have truly been known? It would have been a true story of a rise to power: a knight, risen to lord, risen to kingship. Perhaps in the end that was why he refused it? Perhaps he did not foresee his destiny as being part of such a rise? Albar stared at the flames while he pondered this, as if expecting an answer. He knew of those who worshiped fire, far away in the furthest regions of Essos, in nations which few people in Westeros knew existed. According to those fire worshipers, they could see visions in the dancing of the flames and hear messages in the crackling of the fire. Perhaps there was some truth to it – Albar didn’t know. As he stared at the fire and heard nothing, perhaps it was like a young child staring at written letters, none of which he knew how to pronounce or recognize. Either way, he would not find the answers to his deepest questions there – and indeed, perhaps not anywhere.
“I suppose we are complete, Maestar Albar?” came the whispering voice of Laena. The poor girl still had her stutter, which plagued her if she spoke louder than a mouse’s chatter. It was more than likely that the poor girl would have that with her for the rest of her life.
Albar glanced over at Laena, then smiled. “Yes, I am sorry for keeping you. Tell Alyssa I did not mean to drag it on today.” The maestar had no doubt that Laena’s only friend at the Dun Fort was most likely waiting for her outside the very doors of the great hall right now.”
“Alyssa will understand,” Laena said. She crossed her legs underneath her purple dress. “Will mother still be arriving tomorrow?”
Albar had almost forgotten about the happy news he’d received a few days ago, via a rather perky raven that would peck at his hand until it received at least one bit of corn for its travels. The news had been that Lady Rhaena, master at arms of Duskendale, and the only surviving member of House Targaryen, had taken Byrch Hall, and captured nearly the entirety of House Byrch, including Lady Marya Byrch herself. This had forced the rebellion of House Byrch to come to an end, which effectively ended all rebellious activity within Duskendale. Albar mused how now, in March of the year 142, the times of troubles for Duskendale had come to an end. The endless rebellion which had plagued the region for three long years had finally stopped. Rhaena, who had spent much of her time, shortly after the death of her husband, gallivanting around atop her dragon and keeping the region from the ever sharpening razor’s edge of chaos, would finally be able to come home and work at her post on the Dun Fort. Albar had to give Laena some credit in her steady leadership at a young age: the girl had arrived with Duskendale in chaos, and within a year, it was now returning to the peace it had seen during the time of her father. Of course, if he could be excused some pride, it was partially because of his training and advice to her, but he was always surprised at how well she was handling her day to day activities. She was coming along in her studies quite well.
“She will be indeed, my lady,” Albar replied. “She will be bringing House Byrch with her.”
Laena nodded, but said nothing else. Her eyes stared into the fire.
Albar cleared his throat. “Will my lady still be intending to lock them away in the dungeons?”
“Of course...”
“Even her daughter, Arysa Corbray? She is only five years old. Jyana Corbray is just a baby, and no threat. And Lady Marya’s niece, Helya Byrch, is only a year older.”
“Do you believe they would have been merciful to me, had they won their rebellion?” Laena had not turned away from the fire as she spoke to the maester. The violet orbs seemed to shine a little, as if the light from the fire was giving them there own. “I am being very merciful to them.”
“Many will not appreciate this course of action, my lady. These are not smallfolk rebels with pitchforks, but lords and ladies. And you will be casting them into dark dungeons where common prisoners reside.”
“Maester.” There was a hiss to the “s” sound. Laena now turned her eyes to stare at Albar. “House Byrch rose up once against my father. No sooner was his body fallen that their banners arose anew. Do not forget the creed of my father’s house.”
Albar swallowed. He knew the creed all too well. A unicorn is majestic, but it still has a horn.
Laena considered him a moment, and appeared to understand that he did indeed remember the creed, and that this was enough of an answer, therefore she turned back to the fire. Albar waited a spell before he spoke again. “All the same, my lady, you could show some mercy. Release little Arysa. She is of House Corbray, and her father has no power within Byrch Hall. We can offer a ransom for her, that I am certain he will accept.”
Laena pondered a moment, then gave a nod. “You are right, Maester Albar. I will trust you to see it through. Perhaps the Corbrays will be faster learners than the Byrches. Besides, her ransom will help us pay the loan at last.”
Albar did have to admit that was a promising prospect to this affair. It would be the last concern of his regarding the state of affairs for Duskendale. The loan had been a cloud looming over the Dun Fort during much of the rebellion, and it hadn’t been until recently that they had been able to afford any amount of coin to pay it off. This was another small accomplishment under the leadership of the young Lady Laena.
There was an echoed creak that reached their ears. Albar and Laena turned down the wide expanse of the great hall, towards one of the doors at the far end. A little head peaked out, a familiar face looking in. Laena turned back to Albar, who merely smiled and waved his hand. “We are done for today, my lady. You may go.”
Laena nodded and gave a small curtsy before turning and walking across the hall. Albar only casually glanced at her departure before turning back to the fire. He heard Alyssa’s giggle, and then the shut of the door. As the echo from the door closing died down, all the maester could hear, once again, was the crackling of the fire. A sudden… peace had come over him. A peace that he hadn’t felt in a long time. It suddenly struck him that the peace he was feeling within his bones was, in fact, the fruit of the peace that had fallen upon Duskendale. For three years he had feared rebel armies storming the halls of the Dun Fort, and had been forced to play maester and lord while council members squabbled or left to fight in the war. Ravens had perched and flown from his tower as quickly as merchants traveled the roads to King’s Landing.
For the first time in many, many moons, he could finally be at rest.
A loud creak of the door drowned out the sweet music of the fire. Albar turned his eyes and saw Morros, decked in his usual dark cowl, enter the great hall. This newly appointed master of whisperers, assigned by Laena to keep a Darklyn off her council, had been busy at work, and had already been doing far better than Annara had been. He’d been a welcome addition to the council, although Albar had to ponder at times if the man took himself a bit too seriously. For a man whose blood was of lower stock, he at times had the egotism of a ser. Of greater concern for Albar, however, was that the man was approaching him in a rather quick speed. He got to the empty chair and sat down without invitation.
“Do you have a moment, maester?” he asked.
“Do I have a choice?” Albar asked.
Morros grinned at the wit. He looked back at the empty expanse of the great hall, then turned back. He spoke in a hushed tone to prevent an echo – given Laena had been speaking to Albar in a hushed tone for most of the morning, Albar was used to it. “My spies have been picking up some… troublesome developments.”
“What troublesome developments?”
Morros glanced at the fire, then began to pet his dark blond beard. He stroked it in an almost dance-like move, with smoothness and reverence as if he were petting his favorite cat. “It involves Ser Jon Darklyn. He has gone to the court in Antlers.”
Albar already did not like where this was going. Jon Darklyn, seen as the rightful heir by many of the Dun Fort, had moved to Antlers, where the young Lord Will Buckwell ruled. Already Annara had gone there, and communication with House Buckwell had begun to become almost nonexistent. It wasn’t a promising development.
“A knight can come and go to whichever lord he wishes to serve,” Albar continued, “but I imagine there is more to this.”
Morros nodded his head, a grave look in his eye. “There is a rumor in Antlers – and I get this from good sources, maester – that Lord Will may soon raise his banners for the cause of Ser Jon.”
Despite his best efforts to keep his composure, Albar felt a throaty sigh leave his lips. One hand absentmindedly went to his chains, giving a small tug as he stared into the fires. Would peace ever come to Duskendale? Had Lord Will not taken the conference with her ladyship to heart? Did he not see how foolhardy all this would be? No doubt Annara was behind this. He was not one for conspiracy theories, but he had a feeling she was making a last ditch effort to put her family back in the Dun Fort. Lord Will should have known better – even for a young man, he should have known better.
Men on thrones are just as prone to idiocy as men on stools, Albar thought.
“Does her ladyship know of this?” Albar asked.
“I was preparing to tell her, Maester Albar.”
“I will tell her. You may go.”
Morros opened his mouth, as if ready to protest, but then closed it. “Of course.” He stood up and scurried out. Albar watched him leave, waiting for the echo of the door to finish, and then turned back to the fire. As he stared into the flames, he thought on the discussion he had just had with Lady Laena. She was willing to put children and mothers – even those of noble birth – into dungeons, if it meant showing how serious she was about enforcing her rule. He had managed to convince her to show some brevity, but… it had only been some. And the callousness of it all had been slightly unsettling for him. It had left a bad taste in his mouth… a taste of uncertainty, and one he did not want to swallow, for fear it would wind up with being a poison. It may be a taste of worse things to come.
Do not do anything, Lord Buckwell, the maester thought to himself. He listened to the cackling of the fire, and then repeated in his head, If you do not wish to see what may happen to us all, do not do anything...
Glad to see you back, and in top writing form as ever I had just been wondering the other day if we'd ever see this continued.
As one rebellion ends, the seeds of a new one are already starting to sprout... A lady of Westeros's work is never done. Laena seems to be developing a bit of an iron hand to go along with her iron will.
I had just been wondering the other day if we'd ever see this continued.As one rebellion ends, the seeds of a new one are already starting to sprout... A lady of Westeros's work is never done. Laena seems to be developing a bit of an iron hand to go along with her iron will.