Valyrian Steel: A Game of Thrones Mod AAR
- Thread starter Henry v. Keiper
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Glad to see you back, and in top writing form as everI 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 still have all the screenshots I saved from my session here, which will give me plenty of material. I will also say I've come up with a way of giving this AAR a proper ending, so that there is an end goal of sorts.
And glad the writing is still good. I always worry I've been worn down.
The Winds of Winter will come.
After Martin dies and they hire a ghost writer.
"Not the new Robert Jordan, they said..."
Thanks, guys.
Glad some are still into this. I tried to write this as something of a "refresher" post to help both new readers and old.Ooh, a Keiper post! Wonderful to see this continued
Thank you!
I'm a man of many surprises.
HvK with the dunk! Well done, sir and welcome back!
Thank you, thank you, and thank you.
I just started reading this a couple of days ago and I'm already done. Glad to see this wasn't abandoned 2 years before I got to it
I just started reading this a couple of days ago and I'm already done. Glad to see this wasn't abandoned 2 years before I got to it
Welcome aboard! And happy to see you're eager to continue.
Glad you're enjoying it so far.
Chapter 7
Alyssa
This was perhaps the most exciting moment in Alyssa’s life, for it would be the first time in her life when she would see a tourney!
Laena had received a personal invitation from King Daeron Velaryon himself for a grand tourney in King’s Landing. When Laena asked Alyssa to accompany her to King’s Landing, the girl very nearly ran up to Maester Albar’s tower and kissed the raven that had delivered the invitation. She had honestly begun to believe Laena had lost interest in her as a friend: with her frequent lessons with Albar and matters of court grabbing her attention more and more, combined with the fact she was often quiet when they were together and Alyssa did most of the talking, the Darklyn girl was getting worried. Now a light shone in the darkness, and Alyssa knew for certain there was nothing wrong between the two of them.
They rode in a special wheelhouse together, trailed by some containing Maester Albar and Laena’s mother, and flanked by several men at arms. Alyssa stared through the window, hearing the creaking of the wheels and watching the waters of Blackwater Bay as they continued on down the Rosby Road. She watched the sea birds dancing about in the air, like the dragons she had heard about in the days of the Unicorn Prince. She knew these sea birds couldn’t breathe fire, however, and she knew that the glory days of dragon riders was long gone, with most of the dragons having fled throughout the six kingdoms after the death of their riders. Still, if there was one thing she was hoping to see, it was King’s Landing itself. She had heard so many stories of it, and yet had never laid eyes on it, even with living so very close to it.
“Have you ever been to King’s Landing?” she asked Laena.
Laena shook her head, then seemed to think a moment. “When I was a baby.”
“But you do not remember any of it, do you?”
Laena shook her head again.
“I cannot wait to see it!” Alyssa bounced in her seat. “I cannot wait to see King Daeron! Or Queen Rhae! Or-”
Laena held up her hand. “Stop bouncing,” she whispered. “We are both twelve name days along. We are no longer children.”
Alyssa froze on the cushion of her seat, a frown forming on her face. She crossed her arms and gazed out the window. At once, her eyes lit up, and that frown morphed into a gleaming, tooth-filled smile. She leaped up to the window and pointed out. “There it is!” At this cry, even Laena lifted her gaze, and walked over to the window. Brown hair mixed with silver hair as both young girls strained through the open square to look at what lay ahead.
There was King’s Landing, in all it’s splendor. The large wall traveled along the exterior of the city, even along the shores of the water. Two tall hills rose up high at different points of the city, with one topped by a massive, blackened dome. Another hill rose up on the opposite side of the city, and though Alyssa had no knowledge of the first two hills, she knew what was atop this one: it was the Red Keep itself, the home of the king and the place where the Iron Throne was kept.
“There is the Red Keep,” Alyssa said. “Do you think we can see the Iron Throne? Will King Daeron let us?”
“Perhaps,” Laena said. She pointed to the dome atop one of the hills. “That is the Dragon Pit, atop the Hill of Rhaenys.”
“Who was Rhaenys?”
Laena turned and gawked at Alyssa as if the girl had just confessed herself to be Maegor the Cruel reborn. “Rhaenys, one of the sister-wives of Aegon the Conqueror. Did your tutor not teach you that?”
Alyssa shook her head. “Sister-wives? Did Aegon the Conqueror marry his sisters?”
“All the Targaryen kings married their sisters.” Laena let out a sigh and sat back down inside the wheelhouse. She crossed her arms and leaned her head back, staring at the floor.
Alyssa knew why there had been this sudden change in mood. It was something that she knew had been troubling Laena for quite some time. “That is why your mother wants you to marry your brother, is it not?”
“Valyrians marry their siblings, she tells me, but I shall not marry my brother,” hissed Laena in her low voice. Her lips curled, and her eyes narrowed. “I will not.”
Alyssa plopped herself back on the cushion, feeling her body bounce a little from impact. She didn’t like to see her friend sad – she knew the poor girl already had enough on her mind, even with the rebellion over. There were days when she left her lessons with Maester Albar with an appearance of exhaustion, and she knew that some great matter had been thrust upon her as a lesson in statesmanship. She could not wait until they arrived at the tourney and be away from all the troubles of the world.
As I turned out, their arrival to King’s Landing was an inauspicious one, for they wouldn’t be heading to the tourney just yet, but rather Laena would be busy with boring adult affairs. After they had set themselves up at the large, expansive inn where the court had reserved them rooms, Laena and Albar left to visit another tavern across the way. Alyssa spent her time sitting at the window of their room, gazing at the scenery on the streets below, hoping and praying that some form of pageantry would come along. She lucked out when several knights, bearing the banners of their respective houses, came by in something of a mini-parade.
When Laena returned, she revealed that she and Albar had been on a mission to find a suitable husband for her mother. It had eventually been agreed upon that Rhaena would marry Duram Waters, the bastard son of Lord Bartimos Celtigar.
“Does she love him?” Alyssa asked.
“I hope not,” Laena whispered, “he has seen only six name days.”
“But your mother will not be wed to him until he is much older, am I right?”
Laena narrowed her violet eyes, and for a moment Alyssa took a step back, worried she was going to be screeched at like a monster in a story. Instead, Laena kept her quiet tone. “There were some who objected that to me as well. I am well aware. I am perfectly able to county. Mother will be six and thirty when he is of age, and yet she will still be able to bear children.” Laena turned and walked towards on of the windows of the inn. She gazed out at the crowd below, then lifted her eyes towards the Red Keep. Alyssa stepped forward so that Laena would not have to raise her voice too high, and hence stutter. “It shall be a matrilineal marriage. Their children will carry the name Targaryen. I am granting my mother an opportunity to continue the line of her household.”
Alyssa smiled. “That is most kind of you, Laena.”
Laena nodded. “I love my mother. I want to see her do this. Even if some… mock me for it.”
“People have mocked you for it?”
“I heard the snickering and whispers from the Celtigers, and even from among my own courtiers.” Laena turned away from the Red Keep and stared at Alyssa. Her violet eyes seemed to have taken some of the redness of the Keep with them. “They may laugh. There will come a time when they will not laugh. There will come a time when no one laughs at Laena Valzyren.”
Alyssa frowned. The way Laena stared at her, Alyssa felt like her friend was poising a dagger against her slender throat. “I do not like it when people laugh at you, though.”
Laena seemed to consider her friend a moment. Then, her eyes relaxed, and a smile crept over her thin lips. “I know, Alyssa.” There was a hiss to the “s” sound in Alyssa’s name. “But many laughed at father. He was a great warrior, and merciful to his enemies when he could have destroyed him, but they still laughed at him.” She turned her eyes out the window, towards the shifting crowds in the marketplace. “And they shall not laugh at me… there shall come a time when they will never laugh at me again...”
They had a feast that night, and then Alyssa and Laena were sent to bed. To Alyssa’s joy, they were permitted to share the same bed. It made her even happier to discover that Laena had requested it. Alyssa found that her mind was too focused on the tourney to sleep. She kept tossing and turning, and finally surrendered to her thoughts and stared up at the white ceiling, attempting to recreate all that she had seen earlier that day. She remembered the green and gold of the banners, the purple and white of some of the talbards, and even the different colors of the flowers and foods sold along the streets. It kept reminding her that this was but a taste of what she would experience this week.
She turned, and saw that Laena was staring at her. “Can you not sleep?” Laena murmured.
Alyssa shook her head. “I keep thinking of the tourney. Are you not excited?”
Laena nodded.
“I saw a caravan come by today. They had great big banners, with a green field and a gold flower...”
“Tyrell.”
“What?”
“That was the House Tyrell, Alyssa. They rule Highgarden.”
“Oh. Is that an important place?”
Laena sighed. She turned around and pulled the bed sheets to her shoulders. “I am going to have Albar begin tutoring you as well...”
The next morning, they made out for the first day of the tourney. As soon as they had entered the tourney grounds, Alyssa truly knew that this had made the trip worth it. There was a cavalcade of color from all directions, splashed in the banners of the various houses, the tabards of the knights, the clothes of the performing mummers, and the drapery hung about the walls and tents. Merchants sold food and wares to those with hunger or thirst.
Alyssa walked along with Laena, flanked by Duskendale men at arms. Rhaena was behind them, holding her fake hand at her belly with her good hand over it, as she often did, and flanked, also as usual, by Elonne. Alyssa noted the female armor Rhaena wore, decked with a dark blue dress. With her hair done back in an elaborate braid, it really made her look as beautiful as she always was. The Targaryen women were said to have been among the most beautiful in Westeros, and Alyssa hoped to see more of Rhaena’s beauty as she got older.
Laena caught sight of a performance on an upraised stage, and wandered away to get a closer look at it. Alyssa scurried after her, followed by two men at arms who redirected their course at this sudden ad hoc behest of their ladyship. As Laena and Alyssa drew closer, they saw a group of mummers on the stage, playing various stringed and flute instruments. A woman who was perhaps in her middle age had a lute in her hand, and was strumming it as she sang.
Come gather young children, I’ll tell thee a tale
Of the dragons who roared, and the dragons who failed
Who fought tooth and claw for a seat made of swords
Who played the song of thrones and tore at their chords
“It is the Dance,” Laena murmured. “They are singing about the Dance.”
“The dance?” Alyssa asked.
Laena turned to her friend. “The Dance of the Dragons. The war my father fought in.”
On stage, a group of mummers dressed as dragons came up and began to perform a strange dance. They moved in a circle, then struck at one another’s hands, as if half striking and half clapping.
But as the dragons bled and as cast themselves down
There arose a great serpent who coveted the crown
The dragons did roar and the dragons did cry
But when they were finished, no more did they fly
The dragon dancers gave way as a new performer, this one bearing a hideous mask like that of a snake, leaped on stage. Little children in the audience shrieked and gasped at his appearance. One by one, the snake joined in the strange dance, and to each “dragon” he parried with, the mummer would turn and roll about, eventually falling off the stage.
“That is Hugh Hammer,” Laena whispered. “The one who killed my mother’s family.”
But the serpent fell too, and with himself to blame
For his fire of lust consumed him in flame
A rope was pulled on stage, and a previously unseen prop of faux flames was lifted up. The serpent was suddenly waist-high behind it, and feigning great pain, the mummer thrashed about before at last falling down out of sight. He must have rolled off the stage immediately after, for when the flames were dropped back down, he was gone.
Now two great animals did ask for this great iron throne
A wolf of great size and a dragon alone
But the unicorn came forth, what a task to behold
To choose a successor both cunning and bold
A mummer dressed as a unicorm appeared on stage, prancing about in a strange sort of dance, as he looked one way, then the other. He pointed at some of the smaller children in the audience, which earned him some giggles.
“Father,” came a mutter from Laena’s lips.
Not a wolf, not a wolf, the unicorn said
And not one dragon more shall be at our head
But a sea creature fair, whose half is a beast
So now the greatest was one who was least
The unicorn turned towards the side of the stage, and a mummer dressed like a knight, but with the head of a seahorse sticking out at the top. The unicorn, performing a strange sort of magician’s trick, pulled a crown from behind him, and knelt down before the seahorse. The seahorse took it from the unicorn and planted it upon his head.
Sing children together, together children, sing
And embrace the story of our almighty king
As the music came to an end, the children watching all began to clap. The mummers on stage all bowed low. A large black kettle below the stage began to cling merrily as coins were dropped into it from any passerby. Alyssa herself was clapping with excited speed, smiling so broad she showed her pearly white teeth. When she turned to look at Laena, however, she found the girl’s violet eyes staring impassively at the scene. She picked up her skirt and turned. “Let us go.”
“What is the matter?” Alyssa asked.
“My father was much more involved in the Dance than that.”
“How do you know?”
Laena sighed and turned her head away as she walked. “I… I just know...”
At long last came time for the tourney itself. Laena, Alyssa, and the rest of the troupe from the Dun Fort were gathered near the end, seated below a great canopy to shelter them from the sun overhead. While most were resting after enjoying the sights of the festivities from earlier, Alyssa found that she could not keep herself still. She was rising and dropping in her chair, glancing about at all those who were coming and going. Of keen interest to her were the vast array of knights who were now parading about on horseback, preparing for the jousts. What an array of colors there were! Light and dark green on one, orange and red, purple and orange, gold and red… Alyssa could not even remember a sunset with such exuberant colors! Septon Symon back in Duskendale could only wish the prisms of his office could illicit such beautiful colors.
She took notice of one knight, wearing armor decked in fur, and followed by retainers who carried banners bearing a gray wolf over a white field. On the knight’s chest piece, at the very top, was the similitude of a dragon, emblazoned across the front. She asked Laena, “Who is that?”
It was Albar, seated next to the girls, who answered. “That is Lord Cregan Stark, Lord of the North.”
“Why does he wear a dragon on his armor?”
“Because he is known as ‘the Dragonslayer.’ He managed to kill one of the dragons let loose after the Dance.” Albar tugged on the chain around his neck as he pondered to himself a moment. “Sadly, I forget which one. There are quite a lot of them...” Albar glanced over suddenly, and then stood. “Arise, girls.”
Laena rose immediately, as did those who were seated around them. Alyssa hesitated to see just what it was that had garnered everyone’s attention, only to see a group of men bearing pure silver armor, with white cloaks flowing down their backs, headed there. It was the man in the midst of them who caught her attention: it was King Daeron himself! She leaped to her feet and smiled wide. The king approached them, dressed in plain robes, with a golden belt around his waist that bore the seahorse of House Velaryon. From a distance, with his white hair and puffy white beard, Alyssa took him for an old man, and yet when he drew closer, she at once could tell, by the smoothness of his skin, that he was still young. Beside him, wearing a golden dress, was Queen Rhae, with bright blue eyes and dark hair.
When they drew near their troupe, the king stopped and turned. He looked to Rhaena, standing beside Laena, and nodded his head. “Well met, Lady Rhaena.”
Rhaena curtsied politely. “Your majesty.”
The king then turned and smiled at Laena, giving her a deeper bow. “And good to see you, Lady Laena.”
Laena curtsied, and said in a soft whisper, “Your majesty...”
“It is very good to see you. I can see much of the spirit of your father in you. He was a good man, and you should feel honored to have his blood within you.”
Alyssa couldn't help but notice a subtle shade of red come over the tip of Laena's cheeks. The faintest hint of it, accompanied by a subtle curl of her lips. Her voice softened even more as she spoke, “Thank you, your majesty...”
The words came out much quieter than perhaps Laena had meant them to. When the king looked confused, Albar said, “She said thank you, your majesty.” He emphasized the words with a bow. The explanation seemed to gladden the king, and he gave them all a smile before heading towards his spot, at the middle of the long aisle.
“That was the king!” Alyssa squealed.
Laena sat back down. “Yes. I know...”
The jousts began. One by one, knights were knocked out. Lords and warriors alike were removed from the competition as lances broke, horses whined, and men cried. At one point, Salwyn Tarly, the son of Lord Samwyle the Cunning, was matched up against Reynard Caron, brother of Lord Lyonel Caron. The two men charged at one another. Alyssa gasped and covered her mouth, for the horses seemed to be galloping much quicker than the others had before. Reynard’s lance struck Salwyn’s chest, and for a moment he seemed to stumble back. In a moment he had recovered and thrust his lance at his opponent. Reynard was caught in the side and went tumbling off his horse. With a thud he landed on the ground. At once, the audience roared with applause. Salwyn took off his helmet and looked back at his opponent. The knight’s hair was dripping with sweat, with many more drops tumbling down his thick neck. Squires surrounded Reynard, who, after a few seconds of lying flat on the ground, finally stood up. Ser Salwyn was declared the winner.
A little while later, the two last opponents were meeting one another. It was Salwyn Tarly again, this time against Hubard Thorne. Alyssa clapped for Salwyn and cheered, bouncing in her seat. She glanced over at Laena, who watched the scene impassively, staring from one competitor to another. “Aren’t you excited?” Alyssa asked.
“We all know who shall win,” Laena replied.
The Lady of Duskendale turned out to be more than right. It was barely a competition. Ser Salwyn charged down the aisle, and though Ser Hubard met him with all intended dignity, he was struck hard in the belly with such force he flew a few feet behind his horse before landing flat on his back. To this, the audience rose to their feet and cheered. Without even waiting for an official announcement, Salwyn tossed his helmet to the ground and held up his lance. He rode by the audience, receiving more cheers and applause. Alyssa and Laena stood as he walked by, clapping for him as he continued riding on. A squire stepped forward and handed him a crown made up of different colored flowers.
“What is that?” Alyssa asked. “Does he get to keep it? Can I get one?”
Albar chuckled a bit. “That is for the Queen of Love and Beauty. The winner of a tourney grants it to any lady of his choosing.”
Alyssa gasped. “Can he choose me? I’d love to be the Queen of Love and Beauty! Laena, would you like to be the Queen of Love and Beauty?”
Laena seemed focused on Ser Salwyn. He was passing by every lady along the way, not even paying them any mind. Many blew him kisses or waved, but his eyes seemed to be focused at the middle of the crowd. Alyssa too soon realized where he was headed: right for where King Daeron and Queen Rhae sat. He placed the crown of flowers on his lance, then trotted towards where the king and queen were seated. The applause died down as he did, and likewise the cheering. Like the dying day at dusk, the noise settled as Salwyn continued towards the monarch’s dais. There, he lowered his lance…
…and handed the emblem of Queen of Love and Beauty to Queen Rhae.
“But she is already a queen!” Alyssa protested. “That is not fair.”
“It is more than not fair,” Albar remarked. “It is… troublesome.”
“Why is that?”
Albar paused a moment, choosing his words. “It is because the woman the knight grants the title of Queen of Love and Beauty tends to be one to whom he is wed, intends to wed, or… is in love with…”
Alyssa turned her attention back to where the king and queen sat. She could see that the king was glancing between the two, the cheeks below his white beard starting to contrast with the pale color as they turned a darker hue of red. Queen Rhae seemed unsure, confused… maybe even surprised… and yet, as she glanced from her husband to Ser Salwyn, she gave a nod. A polite nod. And yet, there was something about the look she gave him. It reminded Alyssa of the look children had when they were trying to encourage other children to keep a secret.
The tourney was not much fun after that – everyone kept quiet, or departed from there without much to say. Alyssa was very happy when later on, her and Laena were back at the inn, and were bathing to relax and clean. They each received separate tubs, with heated water to relax their bodies. After much walking, sweating, dancing, and playing, it was good against her young muscles. Elonne was attending them, providing oils for washing and dye to add some amusement to the water. Laena had chosen a reddish color, similar to what her unicorn banner bore, while Alyssa had chosen green, which reminded her of House Tyrell.
“Ser Salwyn is so strong!” Alyssa said. “It seemed like even the lances were afraid of him.”
Laena said nothing, using a sponge to rub against her body. The lower half of her silver hair, already wet with water, clung to her shoulder blades. The redness dripped along the curves of her arm, and along her shoulders. She turned her violet eyes to Elonne and whispered, “Milk, please.”
Elonne nodded, going to two goblets at the side of the table. She brought one to Laena, who took it and sipped it quietly. As she lowered it down, there was a knock on the door. Elonne excused herself, then walked over and opened it a little. A slip of paper was handed to her, and she shut the door. She turned and walked towards the tub where Laena sat. “A message for you, my lady. It is from the Dun Fort.”
Laena stared at the slip of paper a moment, then handed out the goblet. Lady and attendant switched items, a goblet for a paper. Unrolling the sheet of paper, Laena let out a sigh. “I cannot even bathe without being bothered by...” Her voice trailed off.
“What is wrong?” Alyssa asked.
Laena held out the slip of paper to Elonne, who plucked it from her hand. “Lord Will of Buckwell has declared a rebellion.”
Alyssa gasped. “What? But I thought he promised peace!”
“As had I,” whispered Laena. “But he has now revoked his promises. Now he has raised his banners in the name of your kinsman, Ser Jon Darklyn, to install him as Lord of the Dun Fort.”
Alyssa swallowed. It always a strange dark cloud the hung over their friendship. She knew from her aunt Annara that the Darklyns had, for the longest time, ruled Duskendale and all its surrounding lands. She knew that many in her family felt like they still deserved to be ruling in the Dun Fort. And now… it seemed like some in the realm thought likewise.
Laena, however, paid Alyssa no mind, nor gave her any angry or disparaging looks. Instead, the young lady held up her sponge. She stared at the item a moment, considering the moist instrument. Then, her little, thin fingers began to squeeze. And squeeze. It was not a sudden motion, but a slow, even methodical one. As she squeezed, the red-tinted water within began to pour out. Through her fingertips, the red liquid flowed, curling around her knuckles and then dripping like tiny waterfalls into the tub below. Those emotionless, violet eyes watched the liquid as it dripped out in greater and greater quantities. Even when she had squeezed as deeply as she could, she did not stop there, but held that grip, the bits of sponge protruding out from between her fingers and thumb.
Alyssa felt a chill run up her wet spine, a chill not from the cool air in the room. She had never seen this side of Laena before. Even Elonne, perhaps subconsciously so, began to back away, her eyes locked on the young girl and her strange mannerisms. The silence in the room was broken only by the splattering of water on water.
At last, Laena spoke again. A hissing, quiet whisper that said:
“They will never laugh at me… again…”
My heart goes out to Laena here. She is a young girl who has had to grow up entirely too quickly in an unkind world, and one who doesn't know who she can trust. Even her best friend, however personally innocent and carefree she may be, could well end up as an unwitting pawn in her family's sordid schemes.
Speaking of which, if I'm reading the implication here correctly, the Darklyns had better pray to the Seven that they win... or else.
Speaking of which, if I'm reading the implication here correctly, the Darklyns had better pray to the Seven that they win... or else.
Cregan is always so awesome, and so is this story. Glad you've picked it back up
Only if she ends up having a "Cersei" style figure to bring it all tumbling down.
The state of the Dun Fort when she arrived did the poor girl no favors. She was whisked away from a comforting life and dumped into a cesspool and forced to mature on the fly.
As for the Darklyns, I won't give anything away, but my readers may be interested in reviewing Part 1, Chapter 11...
Cregan is always so awesome, and so is this story. Glad you've picked it back up
Thank you, ol' friend! And Cregan fans should know he will still have a part to play in upcoming events.
I didn't intend for this to happen while I played, but in fleshing out in-game events, it ended up having quite a few similarities. The only difference might be Tywin's father was incompetent and permitted lords to walk all over him, disrespecting his post; Rhaekar, on the other hand, while being forgiving, still upheld respect owed to his post. However, the lords of Duskendale clearly believe, with him gone, they can walk over the Dun Fort the way Tywin's lords believed they could still walk over Casterly Rock. Laena's hand is in essence forced to be harder, since the lords are pushing harder.
Now, whether Laena goes so far as to, say, flood mines filled with rebellious nobles, their families, and their followers... that remains to be seen.
The thought of Annara being a Cersei-style figure is both impossible and horrifying.
Maybe. Maybe not.
Maybe the Dun Fort gets covered with rainbows and dragons drop chocolate from the sky.
Thank you, @LordDamien ! Welcome aboard! I'm flattered you enjoy my style, and I hope I keep you interested long enough until the end.
Only if this world has changed rather radically in your time away
Oh no, no, you misunderstand me. That Annara would have a Cersei-style figure in her life - perhaps even a daughter to make the comparison all the more apt.
Just reread that chapter now, and instantly noted two things. First was Rhaekar's dream, obviously.
The second: After rereading my old comment after that chapter, I'm once again reminded of another stuttering scion of a great house whom everyone else underestimates at their peril...
Only if this world has changed rather radically in your time away
Who knows, they've come up with some crazy mods these days.
Ah, well you had mentioned Laena earlier, hence my confusion. Someone has to play the Cersei.
The House of Hard Knocks.
I remember finding this and being disappointed it wasn't being updated. Glad to see it's back.