[Westeros] Kings and Kingdoms

[SoulGamesInc]

This is not dead for those wondering, i've just been too busy.

[Stavros_Kalmpou]

as long as you say it, I believe in you man

[Solid Snake]

Great AAR mate, I´m eagerly awaiting!

[SoulGamesInc]

I've also started a Fanfiction that you can read while waiting for these chapters.
Here - https://www.fanfiction.net/s/10596921/1/House-Soul - This AAR & the Fanfic have slowed down, but will keep getting slowly updated when i find time.

I'm also working on getting a mini-mod of mine done, plus running my Youtube Channel. So i have quite a bit on my plate lol.

[SoulGamesInc]

Chapter 6 - Part 1: The Tides of War
Things had taken a turn for the worst of late, with news from the Florents of a great defeat at a crossing to the north and a more recent blunder at the hands of Anders own man, who stood before him now in the ruins of a Tyrell fort that had recently fallen to the main host of dornishmen. Lord Uller had ridden ahead of the host without permission in hope of taking CiderHall, and the glory, for himself. He failed however and fell pray to the Knight of Flowers.

"I place far too much trust in you." Lord Anders addressed Uller, quietly staring at him with disapproval as he attempted to defend his actions.

"I underestimated their numbers, i wont happen again." Uller continued to speak but Anders thoughts drifted away from Ullers failings.

"Enough." Anders rose from his seat and Uller fell back into line. "We have more pressing matters to deal with. Dorne is under siege, the Florents fail us on the northern front and you my lord have cost us greatly."

"I-" Uller once again attempted to explain himself but was quickly shot down.

"How many did we lose?" Anders sighed, growing tired of Ullers continued attempts to justify his actions.

"Around two hundred at last count, not forgetting some deserters." Uller lowered his head as Anders and the other lords in attendance looked at him with disgust, as painful as any dagger.

Lord Anders pushed the matter aside for now, as he'd stated there were more pressing troubles to be dealt with. "You may yet prove yourself to me Lord Uller, i have a task for you."

"A task?" Uller asked, surprised but glad to be given a chance at vengeance.

"Aye. Your blunder has cost us and now we much take action. Scouts report a gap in the Tyrell line and you shall expose this, leading the fools into a trap of our own." Anders gave the command, and Uller followed it to the letter.

Lord Uller was eager to redeem himself and completed his task as instructed. The Tyrells had placed forts covering the countryside to make any obvious assault a potential suicide. The key to victory was made clear as Lord Uller lead a force of cavalry to lure the fools out from the safety of the forts. As planned the Tyrell host gave chase, but far quicker and with greater strength than Uller had anticipated. Suddenly the Lord of Hellholt found himself surrounded by enemy banners, and steel.

"That fool." Anders thought to himself from the treeline, watching Lord Uller and his handful of men being cut down by an eager young lad wearing the sigil of House Rowan. Uller was dead, but he'd served his purpose.

"Charge!" the order was given and the heavy cavalry appeared from the treeline, flanked by a sea of arrows that made quick work of the knights responsible for Ullers death, cutting them down like freshly picked flowers. The battle was over before the reachmen knew what was transpiring, as Yronwoods host surrounded the Tyrells and cut them off from any escape. The battle would later be named Anders Folly, forever remembered as a great victory that led to great loss.

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

Chapter 6 - Part 2: Never Trust a Uller
Gerold Dayne had gathered a great host consisting of many knights and commoners both, all burning with desire to defend their homeland. The plan was simple enough, to gather all able spears at Hellhot and drive back the Reachmen invasion force that had already sacked Starfall and Sandstone. Things were on track and all that remained was to wait for Prince Oberyn to arrive and take command, but for now Dayne had been summoned to the hall by Ulwyck Uller.

"Ser Ulwyck." Dayne gave a swift nod to acknowledge Ulwyck, being the acting Lord of Hellhot while his brother was away fighting in the Reach.

"Ser Ulwyck." Daynes personal guard announced themselves as Cletus Yronwood, Dagos Manwoody and Olyvar Yronwood.

"My brother is dead Ser, and you will address me as Lord." Ulwyck spoke calmly, showing little sign of remorse at this news.

Gerold was shocked, and insulted. "Dead?" is all he could manage before Lord Uller continued to speak over him.

"Aye. Lord Yronwood sent him to his fate, and the gods themselves have now trapped Anders like a pig ready for the slaughter." Ulwyck began laughing, much to the dismay of young Cletus Yronwood.

"Why was i not informed? In the Princes absence i am commander of this-" Gerold cut himself off this time, taking note of the armed men appearing from the shadows.

"What of my father?" Cletus demanded to know, yet unaware of the hostiles advancing.

"What is this!" Dayne commanded as he drew his blade, quickly followed by his guard. "I have an army at your gates Uller, think before you act."

A man stood beside Uller, slowly clapping as Uller smiled at his own actions. "Ser Gerold. Lay down your arms and swear fealty to your new liege." The man spoke, his identity unknown to Dayne.

"How rude of me, i have failed to introduce my friend. This is the honorable Moryn Tyrell who has seen sit to name me as House Tyrells new Lord Paramount of Dorne." Uller awaited Daynes response, still smiling.

"You treacherous bastard!" Dayne wasted no time, ignoring the armed Reachmen that had slowly surrounded them as he dashed for Ullers seat.

Cletus, Dagos and Olyvar engaged those who tried to intercept Dayne, slaying more than a few of the bastards before succumbing. "Cletus!" Lord Manwoody yelled as he witnessed the lad unconscious upon the ground next to the lifeless body of his cousin Olyvar, who had been impaled by a spear. Manwoody was the last to fall, old as he was in years he could still fight well. He was stuck by a crossbow bolt while attempting to move to Daynes side.

"For Dorne!" Dayne screamed and swung his blade with all the fury he could muster, knowing he'd only get one chance to land a killing blow. Oblivious to the dagger that had been impaled into his side by Moryn Tyrell, he managed to drive his blade across Ullers neck before being dragged down and restrained by Lord Moryns men. He only noticed the dagger when the bastards pulled it out, the pain causing him to black out and awake moments later among his remaining men.

"Gerold?" a voice spoke.

"Ser Dayne" another voice.

"Wake up you fool!" this one Dayne knew, Dagos was always a sharp old bastard.

"I'm glad you made it, both of you." he had risen, rubbing his head and feeling like he'd drunk all the wine in Dorne.

"Oly didn't make it." Lord Manwoody took a moment to look at Cletus who was sitting silently in a corner, having his wounds seen to. "At least that traitor Uller is dead."

"That or he's a white walker." Dayne tried to laugh but found himself still sore from the daggers blade.

"You'll live." Dagos spoke, quickly moving the conversation onward to the pressing matter of what in the seven hells had just transpired.

They discussed the situation for some time. It seemed that during their little meeting with Uller and his friends, their host had been surrounded by Tyrell banners and they now found themselves trapped and unable to move. Dayne suggested fighting their way out, while Dagos counseled patience and pointed out the loss they would take should they do anything so rash. Every plan seemed doomed to some scale of failure, until a hooded stranger entered the tent.

"State your intent!" Dagos grasped for his sword, but recalled that their steel had been taken from them.

"To free you from this cage." the man lowered his hood and was flanked by two other heavily armed men. "I am Prince Quentyn Martell, and my uncle sends his regards."

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

OOC: This chapter is somewhat short due to it leading up to major battles that'll take place in the next chapter etc. The AAR will not die but i've been quite busy lately so it will move slow unfortunately, but rest assured it'll be finished eventually. Thanks for reading and i hope to get the next chapter out Asap. On another note i shall update the OP at some point in the future for easy access to all of the chapters.

[SoulGamesInc]

Chapter 7 - Part 1: Anders Folly
This was the end of things it seemed. Lord Anders had led his host bravely against the Tyrell line, advancing too deep for his own good and sealing his own fate. His flanks had been crushed, his generals slain or captured and his army routed with only a handful of loyal swords remaining by his side as the Reachmen banners slowly closed in around them, advancing over the countless lifeless corpses of the fallen. This was not a battle they faced now, but a slaughter.

"Is this how it ends?" Lord Yronwood whispered to himself, exhausted and broken as those few who remained at his side fell one by one. "No hope." Anders took his final breath and in that moment vowed to die as he lived, on his feet and defiant against these Reachmen bastards. Alone now, he raised his sword and charged headfirst into the enemy ranks mustering every inch of strength that was not already spent. It was not enough.

"This ones still alive." A voice spoke from the darkness

"By the seven, how's he still breathing after that?" Another voice and the all too similar feel of steel piercing the flesh.

A large group of Reachman had gathered to watch as the man who seemed to act as their leader began twisting his blade into the wounded dornishmans chest.

"Enough!" Anders heard another voice merely a whisper upon the wind, as he began to slip away from it all.

"Do you know who i am?" A boy spoke but Anders could not reply, laying on the edge of death and not long for the world he had fought so hard for. "I am Dickon Tarly." The lad stood over Anders and watched him struggle with his last moments, choking on his own blood. "You killed my father." The youth had wished to see this man dead for some time, but in the moment felt only sadness and wondered if his own father died in the same ugly manner.

"I do this kindness not for your sake or my own." Dickon paused for a moment and drew his dagger into Anders heart. "No son should feel the pain of losing his father, at least yours will know you died swiftly."

Lord Anders fell silent and young Dickons vengeance had been met. Lord Anders Yronwood was dead and with him the Dornish Advance into the Reach had been halted, for now.

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

Chapter 7 - Part 2: The Golden Spear
Enough gold to hire every mercenary company in Essos for a short time, all given to a handful of Reachmen captains in order to trigger the plan that Prince Quentyn has named 'The Golden Spear' in an attempt to make light of the kingly sum being used to bribe these men. Dorne was broke however, months of conflict and levy fees having all but drained the treasury. As such this gold came directly from House Florent, the royal dowry of Princess Shireen Baratheon.

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

"The first stage is complete." Prince Quentyn began addressing those in attendance as the Reachmen abandoned their posts, taking the chests of gold with them. "Ser Gerold, take your men and assault Sandstone." Quentyn pointed at a rather poorly drawn map, kindly given and marked by the Reachmen prior to them fleeing with their bribe. "Assuming these troop movements are correct, you should easily dispatch any hostiles on route to Sandstone. No prisoners"

Gerold gave a nod in acknowledgement, "Consider it done."

"Lord Mandwoody, you are to accompany him in this." Quentyn paused a moment to study the map, "Oberyn will deal with the fools at Skyreach."

"What of you my Prince?" Dagos Mandwoody spoke.

"I'll remain here with the bulk of the host. Hellhot is still in enemy hands, that must change before we can push onward." Taking a final look at the map to reassure himself, Quentyn gave the word and the lords and knights took off to forfill their given tasks. "Gods be with us, if even one of them fail this could go very badly." Quentyn thought to himself for a moment as the last remaining lord had exited the tent. "I pray this works, for all our sakes."

Night had fallen by the time Ser Gerolds forces reached Sandstone, having used the cover of night to proceed to the walls without notice. "Move swiftly and silent as the grave lads, gut them as they sleep." Gerold gave the command and began to advance on the Tyrell encampment outside the castle walls, silence fell, quickly followed by the shouts of confusion as the Reachmen began to wake, only to be cut down mere moments later.

"Light the fires!" Dayne gave the signal, setting the Tyrell camp ablaze. Those unlucky enough to get trapped inside their tents were slowly cooked alive, turning the silence into a chorus of screams and horror. The day was won, the Reachmen slaughtered and Sandstone fell within a fortnight. Gunthor Hightower, commander of the Sandstone garrison, surrendered the castle with little fight and found himself without a head mere moments later. Dayne set up the castles defenses and prepared for the arrival of the Princes. The plan had been a success as word arrived from Prince Oberyn as to the fate of the siege at Skyreach.

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

"Kill the bastards! Kill them all!" Ryone Gargalen screamed, waving his sword in the air, leading a cavalry charge head first into an unprepared Tyrell line. "BASTARDS!" he screamed again, no genius but the lad certainly had a way with words. Skyreach was under siege, just as Prince Oberyn had predicted and as such he'd send young Gargalen with haft of his host to lift said siege and rout the Reachmen towards Oberyns own forces. That was the plan at least.

"KILL!" Gargalen could be heard amid the clashing of steel. "Old Man! Your MINE!"

"Wha-" is all Lord Leyton managed to say as he turned to face this enemy, who was now running towards him with a truly terrifying smile on his face.

The battle was messy for the most part, but under the command of Gargalen what could one expect? "Aaaaaaahhhhhhh!" another scream, but not from Gargalen. The siege was lifted and the Reachmen fled as predicted, right into the spears of Prince Oberyn Martell and the other haft of his host. Lord Leyton led them, blood flowing from the side of his head where his ear once was, he was begin held up by two of his captains as they helplessly traversed the sands.

Atop a small hill overlooking the sands below, and Leytons men, the Red Viper of Dorne mounted his destrier and lead the final blow against Leytons battered force.

Oberyn paused a moment to look down at the lifeless husk of old Lord Leyton, broken from battle and age both. "We move. There remains much to do." With that Prince Oberyn's host set off towards Sandstone.

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

Chapter 7 - Part 3: Another Wedding
Prince Oberyn and Quentyn had arrived, announcing publicly that the wedding of Quentyn and Shireen would be taking place here and now prior to moving on Starfall. The timing was partly out of a desire to ensure a heir would be conceived quickly and partly to mark the liberation of Dorne. The wedding took place outside the walls of Sandstone early in the morning, as the sun began reflecting off the sands. I'd say it was beautiful, if i wasn't so darn manly.

The ceremony began, the guests all dressed in attire more fitting a battlefield than a wedding. "Let it be known that Shireen of House Baratheon and Quentyn of the House Martell, are one heart, one flesh, and one soul."

"Cursed be he who would seek to tear them asunder." The Septon continued as Shireen and Quentyn stood before the gods and men.

It was over quickly, with a war to be won there was little time for delay. Shireen was carried off for the bedding and the young Prince Quentyn preformed his duty, attempting to be as kind and gently to his new bribe as possible. Despite her greyscale causing some concerns among the nobles and the prince, he found himself quite fond of his new wife, noble and innocent as she was although not quite as innocent now. The future looked bright in that moment.

"Your leaving?" Shireen spoke from beneath the covers, clearly still unconformable with her current arrangement, but not entirely unhappy.

Quentyn looked over to his wife and smiled. "Yes." he paused, looking out the window at his troops awaiting his word to march. "Starfall must be liberated, and then the Reach will burn."

[SoulGamesInc]

Chapter 8: The End
Here at the end of things his wedding felt like it happened a lifetime ago to another person entirely, the warmth of Dorne and his new wife entirely forgotten. Quentyn Martell sat atop a black destrier that he'd borrowed from some dead knight after his own beloved Dornish sand steed fell in battle barely a day passed. He remembered the horse fondly, its long neck, narrow head and swiftness. It could run for a day and night and another day, and never tire. He smirked when he realized he missed that horse more than he missed his own wife. Gods, he was a terrible husband.

"Nephew." A voice snapped Quentyn away from his thoughts.

"Yes, uncle?"

Oberyn Martell, known as the Red Viper, rode beside him atop his own dornish steed. It was black as sin with a mane and tail the color of fire. "Thinking on the battle lad?" He asked with a grin as the pair continued moving slowly forward. Highgarden was burning in the distance, the fires slowly growing smaller the further south they rode. Quentyn knew better than to think running away would change the reality of what they'd done. None were spared Dornes wrath, from the men to the babes at the breast. All dead. Was he any better than Tywin Lannister now? Yes... but it was far too close for his taste.

"No." He lied.

"Your wife then?"

He seized the chance to avoid speaking of Highgarden, or at least what was left of it. "Yes, we left so quickly that I-"

"The wars won," The vipers smiled was enough to instill fear in any man. His laugh, now that was something else. "no need to fear not returning my boy. Oldtown will surrender or bend and you'll be back in Sunspear making lots of little Martells." The viper was right, the war was done, the Reach broken into shards and shared upon the victors. Quentyn was the true Prince of Dorne now. Word had come before the siege on Highgarden, his father was dead and Dorne was well and truly his to command. His first act had been one of slaughter. His second an announcement that Dorne would forever be known as the independent Princedom of the South with lands stretching from the Arbor to Mistwood in the southern Stormlands. Never before had the banner of Nymeros-Martell hung over so many halls.

Quentyn sighed. "I feel nothing, uncle."

The viper seemed taken aback by the sudden opening up of his nephew, they'd barely spoken during the campaign. He said nothing.

"We've taken the Reach and our family is stronger than ever before. Should I not feel... something?"

"War is a fine adventure, the greatest most of them will ever know." Oberyn's face turned blank, somehow looking more dangerous than his usually light expression. "For some, one taste is enough to break them. Others go on for years, until they lose count of all the battles they have fought in, but even a man who has survived a hundred fights can break in his hundred-and-first."

"I'm broken then?" Quentyn asked, in the background Highgarden had all but vanished over the rolling green hills of the Reach.

Oberyn shook his head and his smile returned. "Your a man now." He said, looking proudly at his young nephew. "We're all broken in some way, is part of this life."

Quentyn thought on that in silence, and after a few moments he'd accepted a few things. "I just want to go home."

"And we will." The viper agreed. "Once these remaining bastards are bent or broken."

---

Meanwhile at the Ruins of Highgarden the young Edric Storm, now Edric Baratheon and King on the Iron Throne, camped outside the smoking ruins of the Tyrell capital in the center of his vast host. Martell and Baratheon were kin now though Edric's cousin and more importantly they had shed Reachmen blood together. That was a bound that would not brake easily. Riders flying the Stark banner proceeded into the camp in the early hours of the morning, the Martell forces having left some time ago to clean up what Reachmen resistance was left in the south. Edric has stayed behind encase relations with the Starks turned sour and war became the answer.

"Gentlemen," Edric greeted the messengers from the north as they entered his tent. "please sit. Have a drink."

The took it gladly, these Northmen had ridden from Goldengrove where Starks host was camped. It was an odd turn of events since Stark outriders had sacked Highgarden even more Edric and Quentyn had arrived; it had fallen back into Tyrell hands shortly afterwards due to the Northmen being unable to hold the walls. They abandoned it to the incoming Baratheon and Martell host. A good thing too, because the Martells would not allow Stark control of the city even if they had held onto it. "King Robb sends his regards." One of the envoys spoke, draining his cup of wine and slamming it down on the table.

The second envoy belched and did not bother with an apology.

"Lovely manners." Edric thought with a smile. He could see why his departed father had such love for these northmen. "Has your king thought on my offer?"

"Aye," the tallest of the two spoke as his friend refilled his cup. "his grace was glad to hear of your willingness to treat."

"The Lannisters are dead and the West is in King Robb's hands." Edric raised a cup of his own and drank deep, trying t show his gladness at the fall of House Lannister. It was no lie, the only good Lannister was a dead one. "I see no cause to fight those that have avenged my fathers murder, and that of the late Eddard Starks. I hope King Robb sees the wisdom in peace..."

"He dose." The envoy said with a smirk. The room seemed to calm a fair amount, the guards and gathered lords now far less tense.

"His Grace accepts your terms happily." The second envoy spoke, having finished his second drink.

Edric couldn't help but offer a genuine smile this time. "I'm glad to hear it."

The terms were simple enough, hostilities between the Kingdom of the North, Kingdom of the Iron Throne and the Princedom of the South would cease. Non aggression pacts would be formed between all three parties and secertly the Iron Throne and Dorne would agree to come to each others aid should the North ever get too ambitious and brake what they had named as the 'Treaty of Three'. Edric Baratheon would not be King of Westeros, but he'd never desired that title and his people had suffered more than enough already. War with the North would have been bloody, even with Dorne's support, and Edric would not drag his lords into a war of greed.

The war for the Reach and subsequently the war of the Five Kings ended when the walls of Oldtown were seized, what followed was a new golden age of peace as the realms of men rebuilt all that was lost. Oberyn Martell esd hailed as the 'the Conqueror'. Trystane Martell named Lord of Oldtown while his elder brother Quentyn was granted Highspear, once known as Highgarden, to forever act as the seat of House Martells heirs. Princess Arianne's wedding to Lord Yronwood took place as a reward for the houses part and loyalty in the war. The Princedom of Dorne and the Reach continued peacefully away from the shadow of the Iron Throne. Lord Cletus Yronwood's relative Olyvar was granted high-lordship over the holdings along the Reach-Dorne border and renamed Cider Hall as Bloodroyal Hall; where a grand stature of Lord Anders Yronwood was built to honor his victories against the Reachmen before his unfortunate death. House Yronwood's future was brighter than ever, but Lord Cletus couldn't help but feel that nothing will ever soften the loss of his beloved father. Lands and title would not bring his father back.

---

OOC: So ends what is in my eyes a mediocre AAR. By my current standards (I have since written a handful of stories and have improved greatly) I'm ashamed of how basic this story is and how it's ended, but I shall leave you with a promise to do a new AAR far greater and on par with my fanfiction(s). I'll update this OP shortly for easy reading. + You can read my other stories here - https://www.fanfiction.net/u/5785709/SoulGamesInc

[Alwyn]

Westeros is a great choice of setting for this AAR. Perhaps writers are often our own worst critics (I'm not proud of the quality of my first AAR, either!) I like the description of the Viper's smile (you mention his laugh, I wonder what that was like or what feelings it produced in people). It looks like you bring together a lot of different strands of this story in the way that you explain the details of the peace treaty - so the treaty becomes a useful way to explain what happened afterwards to various characters.

I look forward to your next AAR - in the meantime, I noticed that you have made available some of your Song of Ice and Fire fan fiction here in the Creative Writing part of the Writers' Study, which looks good.

[SoulGamesInc]

This isn't terrible but was the first story I had ever attempted. I'm happy to say I've improved greatly after countless RP in Hotseats and typing up around 100k+ words over at Fanfiction.net. I thought I'd wrap this up with a short chapter before I start on an AAR that I can go into being far more experienced than I was almost two years ago. I've just the HS in mind too. My major issue with this AAR has to be the short chapters and lack of detail.

My next AAR will be far longer and generally a lot better. This I swear! EDIT: OP is updated for quick viewing.