Goldentooth, Seat of House Lefford

[Poach]

The fortress of Goldentooth spans across the gap created by one of the valleys into the Westerlands proper, blocking the rout to all that House Lefford would not allow freely through their gates. The valley is host to the River Road, which travels from King's Landing through the Riverlands to reach the mountains of the Westerlands, causing the town and fortress of Goldentooth to see considerable mercantile traffic. Behind the imposing walls that block the valley, deep gold mines produce a steady flow of the valuable ore that the Westerlands is famed for, making the Leffords among the richest families in the Westerlands.

House Lefford

See here

Income

70,000 Base Income
3,500 Timber (5%)
7,000 Gold (10%)
7,000 Tier I Building (10%)
7,000 Tier II Building (10%)
10,500 Harmund Lefford (15%)
40,000 Tier IV Building


Total: 145,000 Dragons

Trade

1. Native Resource: Gold, +10% income
2. Traded Resource: Timber, +5% income and +1 Charisma rolls
3. Traded Resource: Steeds, -15% Cav Hire Cost, -5% Cav Upkeep Cost
4. Traded Resource: Grain, +1,200 Land Levy

Buildings

Tier I: Levy (+250), Income (+10%), City Watch (400 L Inf)
Tier II: Levy (+250), Income (+10%), City Watch (200 Archers)
Tier III: Levy (+500), Income (+1 Trade Route), City Watch (100 H Inf, +2 Detection Rolls)
Tier IV:

Military

Siege Defence

+8 base
+/- 1 regional bonus

Total: 9, or 7

Goldentooth and Vassals
(5,500 Goldentooth, 2,000 Pendric Hills, 1,000 Nunn's Deep, +1,000 Buildings, +1,200 Grain = 10,700 points)

1,098 Heavy Infantry
2,745 Light Infantry
1,463 Polearms
1,647 Archers
1,098 Light Cavalry
365 Heavy Cavalry

8,416 men in total

Professionals

None

[Pericles of Athens]

A sole man mounted upon a lean horse arrives at the Goldentooth, he carries the banner of House Manderly. He approaches the gates calling to the guardsmen, "I request entrance to speak with the lord of the Goldentooth on matters of trade!"

[Poach]

The man is allowed entry and brought before Lord Harmund Lefford. He is announced as a man from Lord Manderly, and is allowed to speak first.

[Pericles of Athens]

The man inclines his head to the Lord of the Goldentooth, "Lord Harmund, I thank you for this audience. I have come to speak on matters of coin, namely that White Harbor finds itself in need of it. We have much and more in the way of silver, furs, and fine metal work, Lord Wyman will give you access to these markets in exchange for access to your gold mines."

OOC Trade route between Goldentooth and White Harbor.

[Poach]

"Timbers do us well," said Harmund, ​"The mines consume it for supports and the town for buildings. You shall have your trade."

[Hengest]

A ceremonious train of horsemen two abreast ride towards Goldentooth from the south. Their horses although undecorated are as stunning as the colours and pomp of the riders and their banners. In their midst rides a boy of 7, highborn and clad in an damascened bronze breastplate, utterly useless as armour but giving at least the impression of a warlike son of the south.

The riders at the head of the train bear proudly the standard of House Martell and although remaining in the mount, bow their heads and make a flamboyant hand gesture in greeting. One of them, a swarthy sergeant-at-arms in gilded silks declares with a heavy Dornish accent: "His highness Nymerion of the House Nymeros-Martell comes before your lord in gesture of good faith, he presents these sand-steeds..." the horsemen parted and from the centre the dressaged steeds trotted forth tethered together all twelve in silver harnesses. "...From his father the Prince-Regent, Rors of the House Nymeros-Martell. Will Lord Lefford grant his highness immediate audience?"

[Poach]

They are shown through the keep's defences, heavily manned with troops looking at the Dornish curiously from the walls and towers: the entire fortress was alive with military men, the garrison at its maximum extent due to the war.

Eventually they reach the Great Hall, where Harmund is found speaking quietly to Ulfric. He dismisses his Sworn Sword and calls the Dornish forwards, letting them speak first.

[Hengest]

The sergeant-at-arms stood before the Lord and bowed, the standard bearer beside him banging the flagstaff on the hall floor as the little princeling stepped into view. "Esteemed lord of the Golden Tooth, defender of the Westerlands," The sergeant spoke for the child reading from a scroll "I am sent from my father the prince-regent of the country of Dorne to deliver five of our finest unbroken sand-steeds unto you, tethered in silver-bands for your pleasure and honour."
"Let this be the first gift of our potential friendship" the child stumbled over the words but retained a pompous unnatural and schooled stature, his hand on his short scimitar hilt. The boy could hardly hold it, let only use it. But it was what was expected. "I am Nymerion, son of House Nymeros-Martell and we come to your noble land to seek trade and commonwealth."

[Poach]

"Gold for more such steeds, would it be?" said Harmund as he stood and moved to inspect the horses. He was partial to a good horse, both in riding for pleasure in the many valleys and mountain paths around Goldentooth and also during wartime, where a dependable steed kept a man safe and agile.

They were certainly good horses, living up to the reputation of Dornish Steeds without a doubt. Cavalry equipped with such fine mounts would be a great asset...

[Hengest]

Lordling Nymerion nodded slowly, a little better prepared for the ways of these foreigners... "Westerlander gold is the best known gold in all the world."
The advisor became nervous of the child's improvision and felt forced to intercede bowing deeply as he spoke.
"We would be honoured if you were to enjoy and employ our sand-steeds, your lordship."

[Poach]

"A fair trade." said Harmund eventually after lengthy inspection of the horses . "You will leave here with an initial casement of gold, and if you are satisfied regular exchanges can begin."

After a short silence, Harmund then said, "What news of the war, if I may? As you must already know Lord Lannister bides his time, what are Dorne's fortunes against the rebel menace? I've sent my son east in an effort to discern what happens, but he's neither returned nor sent word yet."

[Hengest]

"A fair trade." said Harmund eventually after lengthy inspection of the horses . "You will leave here with an initial casement of gold, and if you are satisfied regular exchanges can begin."

After a short silence, Harmund then said, "What news of the war, if I may? As you must already know Lord Lannister bides his time, what are Dorne's fortunes against the rebel menace? I've sent my son east in an effort to discern what happens, but he's neither returned nor sent word yet."

Nymerion was stunned but then tried to utter an answer. The advisor was quick to make brutal interruption. "My lord, my prince is...." he stepped closer "merely a boy...You understand that what you ask is..."

The advisor turned back to Nymerion and bowed ingratiatingly, a formality to apologise to a child who was altogether ignorant of what was happening.

The man was in his early forties, black of beard, tan of skin, with eyes as dark as ripe olives. His garb was damascened gold and green silk, his turban was finely woven with gold wire thread. "Othello, at your service, Lord Harmund. Perhaps we may walk and talk more freely, allowing the young prince more liberty to enjoy the uniquely..." The advisor struggled to find flattery "military environment..."

[Poach]

"Of course, Othello," said Harmund, "The liberty of the castle is yours, young Nymerion. Othello, we shall go to my study."

The two men departed the main hall and arrived shortly in the study, escorted there by two men and left to privacy within the confines of the room.

"As you know we Westermen sit idle," said Harmund, "A matter not all would agree with. Good news may sway my Lord to action, as his indecisiveness is both unlike him and hints at influencing factors he keeps to himself."

[Hengest]

"Of course, Othello," said Harmund, "The liberty of the castle is yours, young Nymerion. Othello, we shall go to my study."

The two men departed the main hall and arrived shortly in the study, escorted there by two men and left to privacy within the confines of the room.

"As you know we Westermen sit idle," said Harmund, "A matter not all would agree with. Good news may sway my Lord to action, as his indecisiveness is both unlike him and hints at influencing factors he keeps to himself."

Othello trembled at first, listening to the lord with what temperance he could muster. It was all near the end now. And yet for Harmund, such news.

"The latter sounds rather like the prince regent." Said Othello with a nervous grin and outburst. He stared a moment, his hands shaking. And then broke the dam.

"Oh he is feared" Othello almost wept. "Feared and mistrusted." He looked up with shame and relief. "If what I say shocks or offends you let me be clear Rors Martell is a tyrant." He spat venomously. Close to tears thinking of the dead of Dorne that he had seen from that man's hands.

"Oh but he is yet young- give him time and he may be much more, -much worse, -and then to all. To call him yet a tyrant is to mistake him. For what he may become he is now merely a kind of nothing, nameless until he has forged a name in the fires of King's Landing that would recall the old horrors of the last of dragons."

"The retainers here in this envoy may well tell Rors that I have spoken to you like this, in which case my doom was spelled out as soon as you spoke to the little prince asking of news. But I gladly take this opportunity and lay down my life for my country. Dorne suffers. Edgar was ruthless, but his brutality was a means to a greater peace, he quelled the strife between our warlords." He shook his head grimly. "Rors... He has no foreseeable aim. Nothing to excuse his cold mind. You ask how fairs the war? It fairs well for him or else he would have recalled his troops and returned back to Sunspear himself. Mark my words. However this war ends, whilst Rors lives one may wish back this war as a happier time that kept the spider in his web. When the corpses are counted and the fires of pillage turned to embers, that is when you should take up the sword and shield and march on Dorne." Othello's eyes remained closed. He could expect death from this lord, or mockery taking him for a madman or an actor. It did not matter anymore. Perhaps he could hope that whatever little he spoke to seal his fater may one day make Nymerion the saviour and a better prince.

[Poach]

Harmund shifted position in his seat. He'd hoped to glean some valuable insights into a campaign, a recent battle, the details of how the war was actually happening, but instead discovered - may have discovered - some deeper dissatisfaction in Dorne with the apparently tyrannical Prince Martell.​

"Our words do not leave this room, Othello," said Harmund after a brief silence, "I have no cause to convey your thoughts to the Prince, nor any intent. Are so many of your kin dying in this conflict? Or is this man presiding over a murderous reign on his own peoples?"

[Hengest]

Harmund shifted position in his seat. He'd hoped to glean some valuable insights into a campaign, a recent battle, the details of how the war was actually happening, but instead discovered - may have discovered - some deeper dissatisfaction in Dorne with the apparently tyrannical Prince Martell.​

"Our words do not leave this room, Othello," said Harmund after a brief silence, "I have no cause to convey your thoughts to the Prince, nor any intent. Are so many of your kin dying in this conflict? Or is this man presiding over a murderous reign on his own peoples?"

"Then I call you friend, kind lord. to me and my country. May Mother Rhoyne ever bless your name." He took his breath and gathered himself allowed to speak more freely. "To answer your lordship: Both. Yet it is insidious and goes unseen." He paused a moment and considered his lifelong oaths and that however dire the times, he had a duty. He chose his words carefully. "There are many secrets in the Water Gardens that have long been unspoken of but we their servants have seen, but where is our princess to resolve these ills? There is a dark heart to House Martell, ever since the day of Daenerys when Dorne bowed low to the Iron Throne for the first time. Sunspear's banners were reddened not with our sun but with kinstrife, it is in the blood of them all. Martells. And it is in Rors that bloodline is strongest." He seemed to curse the name. "We have not heard from our Princess Elia in well over a year, is this not most grave!? And yet he the regent entrusted to rule her princedom does not stir. Then when war breaks out he becomes suddenly ravenous like a desert fox and sends hordes not to his sister and liege but into the Stormlands." Othello sighed. "There is some greater plan at work some ambition." He dried his eyes."And there is worst besides. Before I left I heard that House Dayne had languished and not followed the frantic orders to war he gave them. His response was to condemn the House of his mother as traitors, likewise House Yronwood that of his grandfather. This is not unlike his late father Edgar in nature as I say but not in the midst of all these other woes. I ask would the Westerlands suffer such a prince?" He realised he was suddenly in quicksand for this was after all the crux of the matter for it was not altogether unlike the iron fist of Aerys. "Forgive me your lordship I have no place to question your loyalty nor your sense of justice. I fear I have said far too much, but many a Dornishman would be envious of me right now. For that I thank you for your graciousness."

[Poach]

"Torn between your oaths of loyalty and your knowledge that he is a tyrant, I can't say what any man, anywhere in Westeros or beyond, would do." replied Harmund, "So Dorne invades the Stormlands while battles occur in the Riverlands and in the Reach. It would seem the Mad King's days may be dwindling, it would seem the rebels have the Crownlands cut off."

[Poach]

Harmund crumpled up the parchment and cast it into the fire, anger etched upon his aged facial features. The Westerlands was marching to war, to King's Landing, which means to the rebels cause. In itself unsurprising, every Westerman Lord knew a side would be picked sooner or later.

No, the anger stemmed from something greater. Something not plainly stated in the document, but deeply insulting nonetheless. Three armies were established, one of which Harmund was assigned to, as a sub-commander. Who commanded the army? A Sarsfield? Crakehall? Kenning? A Lord of one of the highest ranking Westerlands Houses? Even a Lannister?

No, a mere Knight. A brute of a Knight. Lucion Lannister expected Lord Harmund Lefford to take orders from a Knight.

[Alexandrine]

A group of riders, representing the red salmon on white, neared the gates of the Goldentooth.

[Poach]

They are shown in to find an 18-year old Donnel Lefford taking court, assisted by the Maester. His grandfather, Lord Lefford, was in Casterly Rock and his father, Ser Raymar Lefford, was in King's Landing. This left the second in line to the Lordship to deal with day to day affairs.