This will be my first AAR, following the tale of my faction, House Tyrell, in the ongoing hotseat Youngbloods X. Bear in mind I joined on Turn 7, so the picture will be somewhat confused until we catch up to where I joined.


All the might of the South was gathered at Bitterbridge. A thousand banners rose above the tents, like blades of grass that extended as far as the eye could see. Upon those banners, flowers, foxes, huntsmen, apples green and red, oak trees, nightingales, and owls, but above all else, stags. The great black stag of House Baratheon was plastered proudly on every tent and every shield. The smoke of ten thousand campfires smothered the air in a hazy, indistinct embrace, and the pulsating sound of the army carried for miles across the flat ground of the Reach. The clanging of steel and cheering of men swelled and bubbled like a great stormy wave. The greatest tent sat beside the serene, muddy waters of the Mander, and the Baratheon banner beside it rose higher than the castle itself.

Within this tent, the greatest Lords of the Reach and the Stormlands were gathered, planning for their conquest. Mace Tyrell, Lord of Highgarden and Warden of the South had a place of honour, right next to King Renly and his wife Queen Margaery. Beside him was Randyll Tarly, with his valyrian steel sword Heartsbane sheathed on his hip. Mathis Rowan and Jon Fossoway sat opposite, and also present were the Lady Oakheart, and Lords Garlan and Loras Tyrell.

"Your Grace," began Fossoway, "allow me the honour of leading your vanguard to Kings Landing".
"Preposterous- you need a real soldier to take the capital, not a green pup!' growled Randyll Tarly.
"Lord Randyll, please calm yourself, we cannot fight amongst ourselves. The vanguard is Fossoway's. You shall lead the main force" Renly said with finality.
Fossoway had a bright smile on his face, and he grinned at Tarly, but there was no mirth in his eyes.
"We march at dawn, my lords".

As the Lords dispersed to their own tents, to prepare their soldiers, Tarly muttered to his close friend Mathis Rowan.
"This damned fool is going to cost us the war, he has no idea how to fight. By the Seven, he's never even been in a battle!"
Rowan glanced at his friend warily. He hoped his friends reckless anger didn't drive him into doing anything he would regret. He hadn't been the same after his wife Melessa had died.

A rider came in the night. A meeting was called in the main tent, and the mood was tense and sombre. The gathered Lords spoke in hushed whispers, until Renly finally stood and held aloft his hand for silence.

"My lords", Renly said, lacking his usual charisma and easy smile, "I am afraid our vanguard has been crushed. Jon Fossoway was met South of the Blackwater by Aurane Waters and Janos Slynt, and his army was destroyed. Scouts report barely a third survived".


Despite his warnings being proven correct, Lord Tarly did not seem pleased. A harsh scowl sat upon his face, and he glared insolently at the King, before stalking off back to his tent.