A Song of Quills and SwordsAn AAR based off of a King of the Rivers and Hills hotseat of the same name.
Domesticus
[AAR] A Song of Quills and Swords (KoRaH)
A Song of Quills and SwordsAn AAR based off of a King of the Rivers and Hills hotseat of the same name.
Last edited by The Forgotten; May 27, 2013 at 09:32 PM.
Many thanks to the good folks down at the Graphics Workshop for the sig.
Tiro
Re: [AAR] A Song of Quills and Swords (KoRaH)
Great idea. Someone else already tried something like this and it was very good. (Think it was Lord AcidRocker)
Senator
Re: [AAR] A Song of Quills and Swords (KoRaH)
Acid rocker was doing a hotseat AAR by himself though. What makes our AAR different is that there is multiple people playing as different factions.
Bye day the banished sun circles the earth like a grieving mother with a lamp- The Road
Domesticus
Re: [AAR] A Song of Quills and Swords (KoRaH)
It works better as now it won't take up so much time of one person. If one person is gone or decides to quit then the hotseat and AAR should be able to keep going.
Many thanks to the good folks down at the Graphics Workshop for the sig.
Campidoctor
Re: [AAR] A Song of Quills and Swords (KoRaH)
Should we move the RPs from turn 1 over here?
Domesticus
Re: [AAR] A Song of Quills and Swords (KoRaH)
Sure, why not? Move them over.
Many thanks to the good folks down at the Graphics Workshop for the sig.
Senator
Re: [AAR] A Song of Quills and Swords (KoRaH)
One A Song of Quills and Swords - Turn 1
House Lannister of Casterly Rock
Chapter 1
King Lacel King of the RockKing Lancel looked at the map of Westros before him. It to him looked like a land in a constant state of civil
war. The Boltons and Starks fighting for the cold tundra of the north and Yornwood and Martell fighting for
empty desert sand. He didn't like the situation near his lands either. The Gardners refusing his marriage
proposal infuriated him so much that he mobilized his army and headed to Gardner lands. But if his ambitions
were to become reality, he needed to be at normal terms with the Gardners. "Send a raven to the Reach.
Tell them for a 5 year peace treaty" King Lancel told his advisors. "In the mean I will consolidate Lannister
forces near neutral houses”. With in the next 10 years the much of Westros will change and a new age will
dawn on us”. King Lancel thought his meeting was over but when about to get out of the tent an advisor he
had never seen quickly stood up clearly nervous and asked “My liege what about House Mudd? The border
skirmishes and increasing in number and are beginning to nearly drawn out battles.”. “ Why are you one of
my advisors if you dare ask me such a question. We have had border skirmishes with Mudd for as long as i
can remember I will do what i have always done, Which is sit and watch the pagans hurl themselves at
Andal armor. House Mudd cannot be trusted as friends of the Lannisters. The Mudd cling to their dying faith
like a baby and its mother. If Mudd gets the courage to attack My kingdom with there full strength the Lion
will destroy the incompetent pagans.”. The advisor quickly blushed and sat down. King Lancel liked knowing
that his soldiers and his advisors were intimidated of him. He wasn't like the cruel Bolton in the north who
flayed poor peasants when he felt like it. But Lancel had a harsh and loud voice that would yell so everyone
could hear it on the battlefield and in the castles alike. Lancel quickly dismissed his advisors and sat down
and poured himself some wine. He needed to calm his family down also. Hi brother Dennis lord of Lannisport
was beginning to worry of iron born invasion. And his son grew increasingly hostile to the fact that his
father didn't bring him along to fight the Gardners. King Lancel could imagine the face his cocky son would
make when the raven landed in Casterly Rock bringing news of the peace offer. He was most worried of his
daughter Eleyna who was heartbroken that her marriage to the Prince of Highgarden had been refused. He
needed to find her a good man soon or she would become increasingly angry. All he longed for was to begin
his long march back into Casterly Rock and to relax. For the past 10 years and before when he was a prince
all he had to worry about was house Mudd’s skirmishes. It was more simple to tell men to fight and to fight
with him then to seal marriage contracts and to sign peace letters. If only his Steward Tarbeck was with
him then he could just relax.
1 week later.
King Lancel woke up to the sound of his army being mobilized to move towards home and felt excited to be
finally leaving to head home. He quickly had his servants put his armor on and the clock that showed the
Lannister colors of red and crimson and the Lion of house Lannister. He then made his way through his camp
on horseback and inspected his forces. Over 20000 westerman had answered the call to battle he only
brought half the force with him and the other half he gave to his son as reinforcements. He knew that their
nerves had been tense and hoped that a Gardner reply came soon. He made his way to his generals tent
and saw that there was a note on the table for him to read. After a quick check he realized it had come
from Hightower. He quickly read through it and it revealed that House Gardner would accept the 5 year pact
to not attack. He was realized that he didn't have to fight this war. He quickly told his generals and they
told the soldiers.
In this AAR another important character will be a knight from the far reaches of the Lannister family Who had only the name and a Lannister shield to prove that he was a Lannister. His family had bad land. Hilly and not made for farming. He didn't even have a war horse so he fought on foot with other unhorsed knights.
Sean Lannister
The reaction was mixed as the veterans of the Mudd skirmishes were happy that no battles would come.
But the raw recruits were deeply sad. As most of them had wanted to get the spoils of war out of possible
sack of High Garden. The troops still had to stay with the army though. Many thought that Lancel had a
plan to invade the riverlands but was quickly dismissed because he ordered his army to Casterly Rock not to
Hornvale or another bordering castle. “Why Did your uncle screw up our pay raise Lannister?” asked another
low born men at arm who Sean served with. “ Shut up you're 17 years old you don't belong here go back to
whatever hole in Lannisport that you came from.”. “ Oye Lanny i’d watch your mouth your uncle may be the
head of this army but you aren't worth!”. Sean immediately turned around and hit the Men at arm
with his armored fist in the shoulder and heard a large crack as his Collarbone was split in two. Sean was a
10 year veteran of the Mudd skirmishes and had seen how the men looked at him. He was only 26 years old
and men were of the belief that he to was a men at arm but when the Lannister clock was draped over his
shoulders instant respect was usually given. Sometimes even superiors still were cautious on what they said
about him. He had a decent relationship with his Lannister distant uncle. He occasionally was invited to
dinners that even the generals weren't aloud to go to. He was proud of being a Lannister but he was also
sad that so many were afraid to joke around with him or be “normal” also. He actually wished to have more
dumb men at arms like the man he just beat. “ Get this man a doctor aid” a nearby soldier yelled. Sean
knew it was time to leave and pushed through the group of peasants that had flocked to see the fight that
had broken out. Sean did have a young squire serving with he also. He enjoyed his squire days, he squired a
knight who was a nobleman of the Hornvale. He also as a squire got to partake in many skirmishes with
Mudd soldiers. His first only at the age of 15 when 20 knights from the hornvale and there squires were sent
to a fort near the border and were ambushed by man at arms and archers. The men at arms came crashing
down on them with fury that was immensely powerful. The arrows made no dent the Armor of the knights
but to the squires it was hell they wore only cheap chainmail and no helmets. The skirmish lasted only 10
minutes but after the knights charged the last of the men at arms and routed them Sean never felt the
same. He always felt like a ambush was imminent and was always nervous looking. Since he had such good
connections to the king he often hear information that only the king and his generals should know. But
what he had heard from the soldiers was actually true for once the Princess had found a possible suitor.
From the Iron Isles.
Hope you guys like it
Last edited by Bcman; January 08, 2013 at 07:40 PM.
Bye day the banished sun circles the earth like a grieving mother with a lamp- The Road
Primicerius
Re: [AAR] A Song of Quills and Swords (KoRaH)
A Song of Quills and Swords - Turn 1A great fire burned in the hearth of the Dun Fort's great hall, the flames casting shadows that danced merrily across the strong stone walls. The hall, until recently the seat of the Darklyn Kingdom, was small compared to the Durranion's own ancestral halls at Storm's End, but it would serve. For now. Alesander had no intentions of staying in the former Darklyn lands for longer than necessary.
Alesander Durranion - Stormking
The mighty fortress loomed over the town of Duskendale, where the bulk of the Stormking's forces had fallen back to after the slaughter at Antlers. Beaten by a host of fishermen and ploughmen? How had the Stormlords fallen so low?
But while the Darry's and the Mudd's were likely as not toasting their victories, Alesander had consolidated his forces. Sound from the men encamped within and around Duskendale reached even the highest tower of the Dun Fort, to the extent that Lord Darklyn complained of restless sleep. No matter, Alesander thought. For soon he too shall be gone from this place.
Alesander 's Stormguard lined the halls - clad in armour of the Andal style and bearing heavy poleaxes and greathammers - they were the finest of the men of the Stormlands. At Antlers they had stood firm with him and formed the rearguard while Stokeworth's levies had broken and fled, leaving the Stormking and his guard surrounded by Darry Knights.
There, amongst the hills of Antlers, they had made their stand, cutting down Ploughmen and Fisher's alike. Alesander, unhorsed by a lucky poleaxe, had taken up the ancestral greataxe of his house and fought on foot, , attempting to find the Darry commander amidst the frey. For nigh upon an hour he fought, carving through all who came upon him, but the Darry general eluded him.
As the sun began to set, even the veterans of his Stormguard had tired. Their number had once been two-hundred, but now they only numbered three-score. As Alesander began to doubt his own strength, a horn had sounded in the distance. Lord Darklyn's force from Duskendale had arrived on field, but they were too late to turn the tide of the battle. For a moment Alesander had feared that they intended to turn upon him, but Darklyn had proved his loyalty to his King and his arrival allowed the Stormking and his guard to fall back in good order . Rallying his force, Alesander had disengaged from the battle and returned to Duskendale in good order, leaving behind many of his wounded bannermen and hundreds of dead.
That was two months ago, and since then the Stormlords had brought fresh levies from the south to join their kin in the North. Alesander's force now outnumbered the force he had faced at Antlers, and he was confident that victory was near.
Alesander was forced out of his reverie by the call of the herald, and the doors of the greathall opened to admit a party of men, five-score at least. These were the Knights and Nobles who owed him allegiance - and many of them had forces of their own encamped around Duskendale.
The men were seated in the great hall, around a great oaken table which had once been a proud Weirwood. The coming of the Andals had changed many things for the better, and this at the very least was one of them - they needed a table this large to have any hope of seating even half of the party.
When the principle Lords were seated - though their retinues had to stand -, Alesander's squires brought out the map. The map was old and tattered, and had lost many sections through use and ill-care, but it would serve for now. Alesander made a note to himself to send riders to the other Kingdom's to gain more information on current borders to repair his incomplete map.
But now, it would serve. And they had business to discuss.
"Darklyn's outriders report that much of the Darry host has returned home. The Ploughman is concerned for his fields, perhaps?" Alesander addressed the seated men, geaturing on his map.
"Darry underestimates us. As does Mooton, whose lands are also protected by only a handful of unskilled levies-men. By recalling his soldiers, he has left Antlers open for the taking" Alesander paused, as Lord Stokeworth had let out a little squeak as he named the site of the battle. Alesander rolled his eyes.
"It will not do for my Commanders to be afraid of the Mudds'!" he growled, fixing his stare upon each of the men assembled "They are men and all men can be defeated. We have the numbers, the strength, and the skill. "
"With respect... your majesty... King Tristifer... the Hammer... He has not lost a battle yet" a minor Lord said cautiously, his eyes fixed upon the map.
"Correct me if I am wrong, but did the Hammer of Justice ride against us at Antlers? No. I do not expect you to know that, seeing as you turned your back and fled the field."
The hall was silent and the lordling blushed. Many others did not meet his gaze. They too had failed their King. But they had learnt a valuable lesson from the experience, or at least so Alesander hoped.
The discussion continued, and objections were raised, but Alesander's decision had been made. And as the sun began to set, the meeting was adjourned.
"Summon the men." Alesander instructed the Captain of his Stormguard. Many had been slain at Antlers, but others had proven themself upon the field of battle that day and had taken their vacant places.
*************************
Glad in his finest armour, and sitting atop Shadow, his might Jet Black warhorse, Alesander surveyed the men assembled beneath the Dun Fort. 6,000 or so they numbered, for Alesander had split his strength into three forces and one party had already left for Maidenpool.
Drums and trumpets had sounded for hours, calling the men to arms. Tents had to be struck and supplies gathered, so it was noon before Alesander could make his address. Even then, the winds were so strong that few could hear even the Stormking's bellowing voice.
"We have not come all this way to turn back with our tails between our legs!" Alesander cried to the assembled host, many of whom still bore the injuries of the last battle. They were all fighting fit, however - the Stormlands bred hard men, and they would not break easily. Many had flinched at their first taste of battle, but men learn.
The banners outside the castle walls flapped in the wind, and their bearers struggled to hold their pikes aloft. In the Stormlands, many flinch at the sight of their first true storm. Alesander's son had cried at the sight of the waves crushing the Stormfleet against the rocks, but the sight had hardened him - at least somewhat. Alesander had high hopes for the boy, despite the rumours his bannermen had brought from the South.
These men would not flinch again. With a host twice that of Darry's and Mooton's, Alesander was optimistic about the coming battle.
His address to the men of the Stormlands lasted nigh on an hour, and afterwards his throat was hoarse. But the men - at least some of the men - had heard him and they gave a great roar, one which surely resonated throughout the Darklyn lands to Antlers, where the Darrymen would know that the storm was coming, this time with a vengeance.
_______________________________________________
Campidoctor
Re: [AAR] A Song of Quills and Swords (KoRaH)
Arryn, Kings of Vale and Mountain.
King Osgood Arryn was sitting on his weirwood throne in the High Hall of the Arryns.
A messenger was making his way up the Eyrie and the old king was anxious for the news he would bring. He never liked the large austere hall of blue-veined white marble but in these times he needed to be seen here in the hall of the Arryns, the kings of Mountain and Vale.
‘’The lords of the vale mustn’t forget who actually rules the Vale, I am not dead yet’’ the old Falcon thought to himself.
His son had recently left the Eyrie in anger and the king was sure his son wouldn’t be sitting idle. Talon was always a feisty boy, by the age of 7 he had already discovered every peek and dungeon in the Eyrie and was begging his father to take him with him on his travels. The boy seemed to have a knack for causing trouble, in every castle he would get in another mess. Talon didn’t like baths and was always so dirty from his adventures that he looked like a common peasant boy. On the visit to the Redfort the cook actually spanked the crown prince of the Vale. It was a huge uproar when it came out that the boy who stole food from the kitchens was Talon, Lord Redford almost cried when making his apologies and the cook begged for mercy.
The king did not know if he was happy or fearful when the master-at-arms of the Eyrie told him that Talon was a fighter of exceptional prowess. When Talon was older and a knight he started looking for conquests. He travelled through the Vale and fought bandits and sellswords, he made friends and enemies in every castle and every lord called the young prince when there was trouble. Then the king heard of a loyal servant in Talon’s company that Talon had actually fought a band of bandits that were raiding near Gulltown, he actually crossed the bay of crabs and attacked the bandit den on crackclaw point. The king was furious, the Stormking held those lands and the gods knew how easily the Durrendons where to provoke.
The king forced Talon to return to the Eyrie and settle down, Talon married and fathered three children with Marsella Royce. He seemed content until the hill tribes encroached upon the Vale again, he was gone in one day after the news. He fought valiantly and drove the tribes back into their cold mountains. The king hoped his lust for war had been stilled, that the horrors of the battlefield had dissuaded him, but the king was wrong.
The prince left his family again when the news came of rebellion in the North and South and the whispers of war across Westeros.
‘’You should not worry your grace, the gates of the moon are guarded; the prince won’t be able to pass them’’
The king hadn’t heard the maester approaching, he always liked skulking in the dark.
‘’I wasn’t worrying old friend, only thinking about the past’’
Maester Beren bowed, he had known the maester for almost his entire life. He was a young prince himself when the man had entered into the service of the Eyrie.
‘’You have every right my king, your past is as glorious as your present’’
‘’I forbade my son to leave the Eyrie and he leaves the next morning, I forbade my son to gather troops and he takes half my garrison with him, I forbade my son to preach war to the lord of the Vale and he immediately starts to summon lords to his cause. It seems the authority of my words has waned with the power of my body’’
‘’My king, the prince loves you and will never betray your trust. War is stirring, the army he gathers is undoubtedly just to defend the gates of the moon from the godless men of house Mudd and other barbarians’’
At that moment the herald shouted: ‘’Bow for Osgood Arryn, king of the Mountain and Vale and Lord of the Eyrie!’’
King Osgood straightened his back.
The heavy oaken doors swung open and a the messenger entered the great hall.
The man wore the sigil of house Templeton, a black a shield with a gold saltire sprinkled with black stars. He was clearly exhausted from the way up and nearly fell to the ground when he tried to bow.
‘’My king…….. hail, greetings from ser Templeton your grace’’
The king pitied the man, he knew how exhaustive the way up the Eyrie was.
‘’Catch your breath ser and then make yourself known’’
‘’Thank you your grace, I am ser Bron of house Waxley, ward of lord Templeton. I bring news from my lord. Prince Talon Arryn has gathered an army and has called all lords to contribute men to his cause’’
The old king did not even bother to act surprised
‘’How many men has he gathered?’’
‘’Several thousand my lord and his numbers keep growing by the day your grace’’
‘’Thank you for this news ser, you should retire to the crescent chamber to recover from your journey’’
‘’Thank you your grace’’
The king got up from his weirwood throne and made for his solar, Falcon guard accompanied him. When he was still the young Falcon they protected him but now he suspected Beren had instructed them to follow him around in case he fell and couldn’t get up.
He entered his solar, a pleasant fire was burning in the hearth and the richly decorated room felt like coming home after the cold hall, the warmth returned to his bones and he sat down at his desk; made of a huge block of blue-veined white marble, a gift from king Tyrek Lannister; grandfather of the current king Lancel.
Beren entered and shut the door behind him.
‘’I need parchment, a lot of it’’
‘’Are we sending messages my king?’’
‘’Every king and lord in Westeros will soon hear that the Vale is calling its banners’’
‘’Calling our banners, but your grace we haven’t called our banners’’
‘’Do you think I am going senile Beren? I know that we haven’t but my son practically has, there is no difference for other kings if I or my son calls them but for the Lords of the Vale it is a difference of paramount importance. We shouldn’t give the Lords the chance to choose between me or my son, I will order all lords to gather their levies and protect the kingdom. If the Vale mobilises at my order then I will be the one to control it and not my son’’
‘’I see my king, but what about prince Talon’s army?’’
‘’I thought you were here to advise me Beren, not asking redundant questions all the time. I will order Talon to gather more men and to protect the gates of the moon’’
‘’I beg your pardon my king but will Talon obey that command, he seems to have his own plan’’
‘’My position is strong as long as his plans seem like my plans’’
‘’Sire, I think it is best if we summon prince Talon’s lady wife and his children to the Eyrie, for safekeeping’’
Beren had suggested it before but until now Osgood had evaded the subject, keeping his grandchildren close would ensure Talon’s loyalty. But the king was hesitant to involve his grandchildren in the fight with his son.
‘’Lord Belmore will comply when I order him to deliver them here, but no, send ser Brian Egen to gather them at Strongsong and make sure he treats them gently and without worrying them. Also Marsella mustn’t know about Talon’s army until she is safe up here in the Eyrie, she will want to join him’’
‘’Immediately your grace’’
‘’It has begun’’, king Osgood thought to himself. Lords and Kings had sought his council and wisdom, for he was considered the wisest man of the seven kingdoms but now the king doubted himself. He couldn’t even keep his own son from dragging the Vale into the war.
Primicerius
Re: [AAR] A Song of Quills and Swords (KoRaH)
A Song of Quills and Swords - Turn 1
House Stark of Winterfell
Beron studied the map that lay before him. Upon it show the hard forests of the Wolfswood and the plains of the Rills. Flint's finger jaggedly stuck out into the Sunset Sea, where his forebears tried to tame. His clear, grey eyes wandered North, to the Wall where he and his men had just returned. There had been another King Beyond The Wall, this one named Bael. When he saw the Stark host approach lead by Beron in his bronze and iron crown, he dropped his weapons and surrendered himself to the King. He only said one thing, before his head was hacked off.
"My son, my King." Bael murmured, looking at Beron with his eyes. He had bags under his eyes, eyes that had known joy, and laughter, of summer's sweet kiss, but now only showed sadness. Beron swung the axe down fast and clean, making the man's death quick.
And then they marched again, south, below the wall and to Last Hearth, where Lord Umber welcomed his liege with open arms and stuffed halls. They feasted for a day and a night, the men enjoying themselves, thinking they could at last go home, to women and children waiting for them from wherever they had been levied.
Beron stabbed the map, cutting deep into the wood of his table.
I fought hard, showed the North it had a true King. But now my realm is shattered. I am a Stark of Winterfell, and I will make Domeric yield to me as his liege, his King, and his better. Gods damn him.
"Maester!" He barked. "I have a message for Lord Umber, I trust it shall be delivered?"
Maester Rydwell came from the south, he had accompanied the last shipment of plate armor that had been ordered from Oldtown, attempting to convert those that would listen to the Faith of the Seven. Apparently this was House Gardener's gift to the Kings of The North, who they could never hope to conquer past the Neck.
"My Lord, and what shall I write to Lord Umber?"
"He is to join me with as many good and true Northmen as he can muster. I intend to shatter Domeric's rebellion before it can begin, and his forces are to adjoin themselves to mine own host, so that we can smash Domeric to a nothing but a bloody pink pulp underneath the gates of his precious Dreadfort."
"Yes my Lord. I shall send the raven immediately."
Beron left him to it, and got up and left the tent, donning his white cloak, embalzoned with the Direwolf, and took a deep breath of the night air.
The cold was biting, Not as much as at the Wall He thought. Looking to his left he noticed the guard sleeping on his feet. He shook him awake.
"Wake the men. Dawn comes, and we will be marching by then I trust?"
The guard blanched, seeing as he realized he had dozed off, and shook his head; running off to accomplish his King's orders.
Beron waited quietly, watching. The banners were fluttering lazily in the wind as the neat rows of grey and white tents sat quietly in the night sky.
haaWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
The entire camp burst with life, men donning their armor and putting out campfires.
Not long passed before a column of men began to form, and Beron, resplendant in his white cloak and polished crown rode to the front, looking at the men he passed by.
"Men! I Have fought with you, sheltered beneath the Wall with you, and bled with you! "
The looked on at their King, faces alert and interested in what was being said. Looking at the eyes of each man he passed, he said,
"I consider each of you my brothers. For too long we have warred, and I hoped to get you back to your wives and sons and daughters. The King Beyond the Wall came and threatened to take that from us." He paused, his men's attention completely captured now.
"And we gave him all the frozen hell the North had to offer! Now his head is on a spike!"
They cheered loudly, hooting and shouting cries of "The North!" and "Beron Stark!"
"But now lads, there lies another king. This one to the South, and he wears a crown, very much like the one I wear, though only, of ice. This King"-Beron spat the word- " punishes friend and foe alike the same! Killing them a thousand times and none, not until he's had his fun. He dares call me a bastard, when he's fathered one himself!"
The men were giving catcalls now and insults, riled by Beron's words.
"It seems to me lads, that this man is no King. No, far from it. He's a monster, he is a Bolton!"
At this the mens cries grew silent. Domeric Bolton was a well known, and indeed powerful Lord. That he had rebelled against his King though, still came as a surprise despite the murmurs of hatred he had his King.
"Ay brothers, there's a tough fight, harder war ahead for all of us. Not all of us may not live to see it's end. I may not live to see it's end.
So I declare now to you all publicly. March with me and take the Dreadfort. Help me cast down this usurper! Melt down his frozen crown in the forges of Winterfell! The first one of you to breach their walls will be a hero, and all of you, each one, will be considered for the Lordship of the fortress of the Dreadfort and it's lands!
So march with me, for glory, for honor, for the North and for Winterfell!"
His men gave a thunderous response, shaking the Stark banners and waving them proudly. Shouting "Stark! Stark! Stark!" and " The King in the North!"
Beron saw them. He saw the direwolf on stitched on their clothes, painted on their shields and fluttering in the banners they flew.
His grin was wolfish.
Foederatus
Re: [AAR] A Song of Quills and Swords (KoRaH)
If I could give rep I would. This is excellent, and I really like the style. It rather helps you get a feel for the story better, and allows you to get favorites. My personal favorite chapter 1 (so far) is the stark one. Good work guys! And I hope y'all keep it up!
Last of the Romans
Re: [AAR] A Song of Quills and Swords (KoRaH)
A Song of Quills and Swords Turn 1
House Bolton of the Dreadfort
Domeric looked outside his window, it was a cold northern day and the sun was hiding in fear of him. He always had that effect on things. As he walked towards the courtyard he saw the skins of all the lords throughout history that have crossed house Bolton, mostly Starks. But as Domeric looked at them more he was disappointed, there was still a lot of room left for more men, and Beorn Stark was going to be one of them, Domeric hoped that foolish wildling would stay beyond the Wall building snowmen, but he and his wildling army crossed the Wall and are the only thing in his way to retake the North. Domeric did not care, he had assembled his own army and was simply waiting for the Wolf to make a mistake so he could Pounce on it. One of his men rushed up to him and awkwardly tried to gain his attention, Domeric knew his men feared him and he loved it, it made him feel powerful like a real king of winter! Usually by this time the messenger would run away but he stood next to him waiting for his lieges attention. Domeric had been blessed with height and was taller than almost all of his subjects but yet this little scum had either no fear or no brains. Domeric broke the silence, “What do you want you peasant”. The messenger did not flinch he replied with a steady strong voice “ Your Bastard Ramsay has ran off to the coast”. A smile fell over Domerics face, he replied in a laughing tone “You think I give a
He met with Vayon his son on the way their, Vayon was a good hearted lord who was very very nice, no Bolton was nice, Domeric tried everything to make his son cruel, but his son was just born nice to everyone. They didn’t really like each other much, so they walked to the hall in silence. There they meet with Brendan the head steward of the kingdom (However new it might be) talked about a mine being built in by Torrhen Greystark in the Wolfs den and of Domerics daughter Lyra who is somewhere near Last Hearth looking for something. Brendan added that the loyal stark forces swore allegiance to Beorn Stark and of the mustering of the winter food supply. Domeric cared little of winters food, he won't starve why should he care, he let Vayon do all the administration while he left to go to his army camped outside the castle. All his men stayed away from him, they respected and feared the man like he was a god. Domeric cared not he had other things on his mind, at the top was how he could not seem like such a Bolton at dinner tonight with Seamus.
Seamus entered the hall, he was dressed with the Flayed man of Bolton on his shirt and black leggings, he had spent half of his money towards a bottle of wine to give to Domeric, he waited in a room while a rather plump man named Brendan told him what to do and what not to do,” Do not mention any Starks, it make him sad he is not king, “Do not mention cats, he is a dog person”. Seamus wrote down what not to do. “Did you bring him something?” Seamus replied “Yes some wine” Fabulous you're a pro! “Compliment on his height, talk about how beautiful his Daughter Lyra is and of course mention how loyal you are to him.” After what seemed like 6 hours Brendan smiled and said “I think you might not get flayed!!” Seamus did not know how to take that, he ignored it and studied the list he made. Brendan escorted him into a massive room with three fires going at once and a magnificent oak table in the middle, there sat Domeric, Vayon and Domerics wife. Domeric smiled and showed his massive white teeth and yelled “Hullo Seamus!” Seamus felt awkward seeing the man this happy could mean a lot of things. Seamus smiled and held up the wine, Domeric smile and said “See Vayon I told you he would be a good sport and bring good wine not the lousy
Last of the Romans
Re: [AAR] A Song of Quills and Swords (KoRaH)
Anders Bloodroyal felt the heat once he walked out of the gates of Yronwood, it was a heavy heat, the type that made you want to run to the ocean and lay in the water for hours. Anders did not have this opportunity. Anders was the king of Dorne after all, he could not let the heat bother him. Things were going quite well for Anders since the war with Martell began, he acquired the support of Royce the sword of the morning and all the power of Starfall behind him, his son Quentyn was having a diplomatic negotiation with the Dornish heir Oberyn and they seemed to get on the right foot with each other. All Anders could think about while riding was the bloody
Royce Dayne walked through the camp, his sword at his side and his white armour were gleaming in the sun. Royce was always respected even by his enemies, Royce sided with house Yronwood for many reasons, the prince Quentyn was his friend and Anders was a very respected man in Dorne. But Dayne joined because he knew he wanted his own kingdom, and he knew that the Yronwood’s would be very thankful for his services, he hoped one day he could not have to call any man lord and that he would be called a king, even if that meant the extermination of both houses Yronwood and Martell. One of his men walked up to him "Sir shall we begin marching south?" Dayne replied "Yes prepare the men" but he cared not about the march right now,he was to busy think if his assassination of Anders Yroonwood had worked.
Tiro
Re: [AAR] A Song of Quills and Swords (KoRaH)
Amazing all of you! Best AAR I've ever read probably!
Domesticus
Re: [AAR] A Song of Quills and Swords (KoRaH)
Shhshhh. We don't want them getting full of themselves before the first turn is over.
Truly though, thanks for the feedback. It is nice to know that other people than just the hotseaters are reading it.
Many thanks to the good folks down at the Graphics Workshop for the sig.
Primicerius
Re: [AAR] A Song of Quills and Swords (KoRaH)
House Martell. A Song of Quills and Swords - turn 1
Ulwyck saw the sands for miles. It was red and gold and orange, and in the distance seemed to blaze as if afire.
The same fire of our Martell Sun, he thought.
His arse was sore, and he was drenched in sweat. The knights he led fared no better. As for the men afoot, he truly pitied. Forced to march for miles in the uncooperative and hellish Dornish sand, men often died of exhaustion or a lack of water.
Ulwyck had received the message from Sunspear from his Prince. Or rather the Prince's prince, heir to Dorne. Lewyn had ordered him to march upon the Sword in the Morning. They had received reports he was on the march, and although the Sword in the Morning had declared for Yronwood, it was rumored even the Bloodroyal had trouble controlling the man. Lewyn had explained that a strong force near the Greenblood would help keep Dayne at bay, atleast for a time.
The very day Ulwyck received the message he ordered the march. He knew the man personally, having once visted Starfall before it was subjugated by the Yronwoods. He was ambitious and clever, and a master with his milkglass blade. So as Ulwyck marched now, with his black hair matted down and sweat soaking his clothes, he cursed the man. Spat oath after bloody oath. Only when a nearby knight inquired as to why his Lord of Martell was swearing, he replied
"I swear at the inevitable Dawn. Of the Morning that may not be stopped."
The knight, with no arms to distinguish his House upon his breast, did not seem to understand, and resigned himself to silence afterwards.
And so Ulwyck marched. For miles they had marched through the living, yet loved hell that was Dorne. And then at the origins of the river Greenblood, they had setup camp.
That was the one thing he was grateful for, he supposed. When the time comes, we can wash the blood from our hands, or drift down the river. The Dawn may always come, and so with it the Morning, but after is the time of high noon. Of the Sun. Of Martell.
Last edited by The Guy With No Imagination; January 08, 2013 at 10:32 PM.
Primicerius
Re: [AAR] A Song of Quills and Swords (KoRaH)
House Martell. A Song of Quills and Swords - turn 2-
Ulwyck was at the edge of camp, its low wooden walls provided him with a view of Dayne's camp, even if from afar.
Amidst the soldiers he saw were Dayne's own Household knights of Starfall, the Guardians of the Dawn, armored in full plate and with a vicious two-hander. He cursed. They were outnumbered and out-armored. They're nearest reinforcements were a few hundred men under the command of Lord Gargarel, who was incompetent as an attacker.
He looked to the skies again. When he had awoken in his tent, Dawn, both the Sun and the Sword had come. He knew they would. He also knew he would not live to see the end of the war. As he watched the great blue expanse, he saw a black speck fly towards them, a raven.
Dayne's archers saw it too, and try as they might, they could not bring the bird down. Ulwyck even saw Dayne himself attempt to kill the bird, but as expected, he missed. Stick to swordplay you bastard, he thought. The last thing they would need now would be Dayne being a master at both the Sword and Bow.
The raven landed next to him, likely as it was the first person it saw. He untied the message on it's leg.
Aron Yronwoods slain. Bloodroyal and prince under siege. Victory near-guaranteed. Dagos Fowler, Warden of the Prince's Pass.
Affixed to it was the official seals of House Fowler and Martell.
He laughed. Ulwyck saw the sky. When he had awoken Dawn had come. But now, it was High Noon. The time of the Sun.
Last edited by The Guy With No Imagination; January 11, 2013 at 06:01 PM.
Domesticus
Re: [AAR] A Song of Quills and Swords (KoRaH)
Prince Tristifer looked upon the young woman. Walda Frey was nothing short of a goddess among men, although her father was not. The man was quite short and had a peasants look. “I hear you wish to cross the Lightgreenish Fork? I own the land where the crossing is and I see you bring an army with you, if you marry my daughter and make her princess of the realm I will let you cross!” Prince Tristifer looked upon the man and slowly exhaled, he was stupid to stand in his way.
“This is no major fork, and crossings are ample. I will simply trample over your land as I please Frey. Captain, kill that man and do with his daughter as you please, he seems to have quite a big family. Conscript a battalion from them and leave the oldest to tend the farm.” The army had no trouble crossing the small fork and continued onward toward their goal.
Meanwhile...
Jon Darry stood upon the battlements of his castle, watching the vast army from the Stormlands. The middle aged Lordling feared for his life. They siege weapons were creaking toward the castle slowly, their ram was a sight for gods. Jon knew he couldn't hold the walls and decided to defend the castle square, if it were lost then all was lost.
The Stormlanders crept over the walls and defeated the garrison easily, while castle burned under their heels. Jon Darry looked at his friend, “Jonathan, go to the heart tree, it is said that the Children of the Forest can see all from those trees, pray for guidance and swift deaths for all of us.” “Aye ser, it has been an honour," Jonathan's heart trembled as he left to pray to the Old Gods one last time.
____________________________________
Unfortunately Makrell is unable to continue the hotseat. He did send me this one last entry before he finished though. I edited some of the grammar and added a line or two but most of it is the same.
From now on Greyjoy is the new Mudd player. We are glad to have him along.
Many thanks to the good folks down at the Graphics Workshop for the sig.
Primicerius
Re: [AAR] A Song of Quills and Swords (KoRaH)
A Song of Quills and Swords - Turn 2
Alesander Durranion - Stormking
Smoke rose from inside the walls of the once noble castle of Antlers. The flimsy wooden walls which had previously halted his men during the First Battle of Antlers had been breached, and the flag of the Kingdom of Storm and Shore now flew atop the gatehouse.
The battle had been short and bloody. The Ploughmen who garrisoned the town were not the Mudd veterans that had thrown back his previous assault. They were peasants levied from the land, with spears and bows thrust in their hands.
It was said that Jon Darry - the commander who had the command here - was a great mathematician. Alesander knew little of such things, except that Darr yhad placed too much faith in his numbers. It was said that a force of able-bodied warriors could hold a wall against thrice their own number, yet these Ploughmen were not warriors. As soon as Alesander's force had approached the gate with their ram, the Archers had fled the walls.
They had chosen to make their stand underneath the foreboding tower of Antlers itself. In all honesty, Alesander considered it little more than a watch tower. Their stand outside it was foolish, in Alesander's mind. Perhaps they wanted to fight him in the style of their ancestors? Or was it that they feared the fate he had brought to the last of the Claw Kings, whom Alesander had roasted alive in his wooden keep when he refused to leave his sanctuary to fight Alesander in single combat.
Now, the bodies of Ploughmen littered the streets, and fires had been set by some of the more eager Stormlanders in places where Ploughmen had scarpered to. Alesander frowned, and ordered the fires to be quenched. He did not want to inherit a ruin. No, he would need this stronghold as a stepping stone towards Darry itself.
With the Darry forces defeated, his men had formed up outside the heavy oaken door that guarded the entrance to the keep itself. His Stormguard formed the first few ranks, bearing great tower shields and longswords. A ram - smaller than the one that had been used to breach the town gate - had been brought up, and eight of his strongest men were pounding at the gate, each impact dislodging dust and small bits of masonry from the ancient keep. Alesander made a mental note to have the walls surveyed and repaired after the battle.
Word has reached him that Maidenpool, a town to the North of Antlers, had fallen earlier that morning. Darklyn had stormed the walls and defeated the Mudd commander, Desmond of House Mooton, in a swift and bloody battle. House Mooton had capitulated and sworn themselves to the Kingdom of Storm and Shore, which left his flank secure. Now, it was only Darry Keep which stood between the Kingdom and their true enemies, House Mudd.
But first, Antlers still was to fall. Jon Darry had now been found amongst the dead in the square, nor elsewhere in the town below the keep. Alesander donned his helm, dismounted, and made his way to the front of the column. Many of his men bore signs of the assault, and Alesander's own tablard bore more than one patch of red from when he had joined in the final stages of the battle.
He turned to address his men, but before he could utter a word, a tremendous crash heralded the fall of the gate.
"Stormguard! Lead the advance!" Alesander cried, drawing his sword. With a cry, his men moved forward through the splintered gate. Alesander followed them.
Antlers was a small keep, and it's main gate led directly to the keep's entrance hall. The room was small in comparison to the castles of the Stormlands, yet across the room from Alesander and his Stormguard stood perhaps two-score men at arms, all of whom wore the arms of House Darry. Their shields were interlocked and their swords and axes held aloft, yet they stood silently and stoicly.
Jon Darry stood atop a dais at the back of the hall. Alesander recognised him from two-years past, when Mudd forces had attempted to intervene in Alesander's annexation of the Kingdoms of Shore and the Kingdom of Claw Isle. When their forces had met in battle at Antler's previously, Alesander had tried to find the Ploughman amongst their enemies, but to no avail.
His Stormguard formed ranks opposite the Ploughmen, barely ten yards from one-another. They parted, to allow Alesander through. He cast his eyes across the room - the halls were drab and dreary, and the walls bore no decoration. Nor did they have any windows or slits from where a keen archer could take vantage from. Alesander had nothing to fear.
Alesander removed his helmet - a greathelm bearing the Stag's Antlers which were teh symbol of his House. How fitting for the place they were in, Alesander mused. On the stone dais, Jon Darry did the same. He had a face which bore signs of strain beyond his 20 years. A thick brown moustache adorned his upper lip. Alesander found his face, especially those glimering blue eyes, irritating.
"A year ago, I looked for you on the battlefield" Alesander called, his powerful voice amplified by the acoustics of the unfurnished stone hall "Yet you eluded me, Ploughman."
"So did I, Stormking. But I was too busy pursuing your fleeing bannermen to take much notice of you. An oversight" came the reply, said with the easy confidence of youth.
"Do you feel safe behind your shield wall, Ploughman? Your guard will fall just as easily as the rest of your men."
"My men stand with me, Stormking. They shall stand till the end."
Behind him his men stirred. Alesander could sense that his men were growing restless. The battle had been short yet furious, and their limbs were stiffening.
"I will give you this one chance, Darry, to surrender yourself and this keep to me. Enough Darry-blood has been shed this day. Surrender and spare the lives of your men, or we shall slay you where you stand. Surrender and I shall give you a clean death, stand, and I will unleash the fury of the Storm upon your house."
Jon Darry looked at the ground, his face bore the look of a man whom knew his time was up. Hi fate was sealed. Alesander donned his helm.
"So be it." he murmured. He stepped back in line with his Stormguard. His men readied their weapons, and on the opposite side of the room, the Ploughmen raised their shields.
"No, Stormking. You will find only death in these lands. For all storms end in mud, and House Darry ploughs through her enemies!"
A cry erupted from the Ploughmen as they charged forward, shields raised and cries of defiance on their lips. But the Stormguard were ready and rushed the two or three paces in took to meet them. Shields crashed against each other with dull thuds, while cruses were uttered and swords clashed against one another.
The song of battle was in the air, and Alesander intended on adding his own tune. He rushed forward, his blade raised. Opposing him first was a ploughman, whose shield caught the Stormking's first blow. Alesander's momentum forced the warrior backwards into the throng of men behind him, and he lost his footing, stumbling forward onto Alesander's blade. The next three men in his path were dispatched with ease, as these men were too intent on striking down the Stormking to cover their own bodies.
All around him his Stormguard and the ordinary soldiers of the Stormlands were pushing forward. Their enemies were a cut above the levies they had slaughtered earlier that day, but they could not stand against the fury of the Storm. Gradually, they were forced back towards the dais, and their number diminished.
Alesander swung at a man who had dropped his sword in order to use both hands to hold back two of his Stormguard with his shield. Alesander's blade first struck a blow to the man's shin, followed up by a vertical strike which cleaved his skull in two. The Ploughman fell to the ground and Alesander stepped over his corpse.
Alesander 's greathelm limited his vision, and a blow to his right flank caught him by surprise, but he gave no ground. He swung around to face his opponent, only to be met by a furry of blows, all of which he managed to parry.
Jon Darry was fast with a blade, but Alesander was a whole head taller, larger in size, and faster. He swung an armoured-fist towards the Ploughman, surprising him and giving Alesander time to raise his blade for a thrust. Darry managed to catch his blade, but Alesander's elbow swung underneath the youth's guard, smashing the breath from him.
Alesander raised his sword again for the killing blow, but one of Darry's guard threw himself forward, shield raised to cover his Lord. Alesander dealt with him with a swift kick, followed by a horizontal clash which opened the man's jugular, causing a fountain of blood to flow freely. The man collapse, but his sacrifice has bought Darry time to recover. The Lord of Antlers stood atop his Dais, blade aloft, taunting the Stormking.
Alesander's ears were ringing from the cacophony of battle. Surrounded by his Stormguard, Alesander undid his Great Helm, and lifted it from his head. The majority of Darry's guard lay dead or dying, bar a dozen who remained on the dais. Many of whom were injured and clutched wounds, yet their swords were tinged red with blood - and several of the men around him also bore injuries.
"You have fought valiantly, Darry." Alesander's voice boomed across the hall. "But your bravery has cost you the lives of your men. Surrender now and I shall at least let them return to your House to tell of what transpired here"
"You offer me a clean death, yet what sort of deaths will you bring to my House and it's lands? If mine own death is clean, then theres shall not be. No, Sotrmking. I challenge you in single combat"
The hall was silent. Alesander had been raised from birth to wield, sword, axe, and lance. The Stormkings has won their Kingdom with blood and fury. It was the privilege of Kings to offer the heir to the Durranion throne a challenge of single combat, as the Durranion's had done so with each Kingdom they absorbed. But for a petty noble to challenge the Stormking, it was both brave and foolish.
"You fight well, Darry, but your courage will be the breaking of you" Alesander stepped forward, bringing his blade up. The Darrymen parted, allowing Alesander and his Stormguard to move towards the dais. A ring formed, with the Darrymen and Stormlanders keeping their distance.
Darry brought his blade up, and bellowed a cry that Alesander missed amidst the cries of the men surrounding them. He charged forward with youthful impetuous, but Alesander caught his blade with his own and replied with a fury of strikes. Both men wielded their blades two-handed, but Alesander was strong enough to rain a fury of single-handed blows upon the Ploughman which forced him back against the shields of his Stormguard. His men threw the youth back into the ring, cheering and mocking the young warrior.
Alesander surveyed his foe as he scrambled back to his feet, definatly. A fire burnt in his eyes, and his passion was admirable. He would have made a good warrior, had he lived a simpler life. Instead, he would have to die.
Alesander made it a quick death. He threw himself forward, and rained blows upon the Ploughman. When Darry parried his first blows, Alesander sent an armoured foot into Darry's shin, causing him to lose his footing. His lobstered-steel gauntlet caught the side of Darry's body, weakening his guard enough for the Stormking to strike a horizontal blow which sent Darry's sword recoiling behind him. A piercing strike through the abdomen finished the young Lord of Antlers.
Around the dais, Darrymen rushed to aid their dying lord, weapons raised and bellowing cruses, but all were cut down before they could reach Alesander. As he watched the young Lord's life fade, he said a short prayer for the man. Although his gods had been wrong in life, Alesander hoped that the light of the Seven would find him after death.
Last edited by Badger-dude; January 14, 2013 at 11:32 AM.
Foederatus
Re: [AAR] A Song of Quills and Swords (KoRaH)
Aw, the poor Darry! But who is mighty enough to stand before the wrath of the Stormking? Walls may weather the storm, but the storm always wins!
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