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Post by Gandalf on Jun 29, 2020 5:56:39 GMT -5
Ser Addam silently moved up alongside his king, hand lazily resting on the polished pommel of his blade. The Septon was no threat, and if the situation was proving uncomfortable for the Kingsguard he did not show it.
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Arianne lounged on her throne, watching the scene unfold from on high as she whispered to her ladies-in-waiting. The Faith needed a strong hand to be brought back into line - though laying a hand on a Septon in the Red Keep would bring only violence to the city.
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Post by Royal Joker on Jun 29, 2020 14:22:19 GMT -5
A large retinue arrived at King's Landing, carrying the banners of several Reach houses, House Tyrell chief among them. Lord Willas led the houses still loyal to him to the Red Keep. After Olenna's return with King Aegon's demands, there was little choice for the Reach but to submit themselves to the Iron Throne.
Willas led his vassals into the great hall, limping forth with the help of his cane.
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Post by pontifex on Jun 29, 2020 16:31:12 GMT -5
THe Tyrell contingent is met and they are granted an audience before Aegon to do homage.
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Post by perry on Jun 29, 2020 19:26:38 GMT -5
The older monk staggered backward under the assault, he had taken vows of poverty, and also vows of non-violence. In this he could do nothing. As he merely gasped for air, only to find none.
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Post by pontifex on Jun 29, 2020 20:14:34 GMT -5
Aegon released him, allowing the Septon to find his wind. "The faith and the Crown - the Twin pillars of the Realm. One may not exist without the other. I have many matters with which I would have discussed with the High Septon. I still require his counsel, and yet he refuses to treat with me. Why? Why else but that he does not consider me the true King? I can think of nothing else." Aegon kicked over a brazier, spreading coals across the marbled floor. "What am I to do if he refuses to treat?"
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Post by perry on Jun 29, 2020 21:15:44 GMT -5
The monk fell to one knee and placed his hands upon the floor to find balance. Certainly strangling his messenger will not help. The Monk thought, as he gasped for air. “The High Septon invites you to pray at the Sept.” He said, as he found his footing. “As he did when you arrived in the city. You share many enemies, but the Red Keep is stained with corruption. He cannot come to this place after the Lannisters polluted it’s halls.”
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Post by Royal Joker on Jun 30, 2020 1:38:21 GMT -5
Willas slowly limped up to the Iron Throne, looking upon the young dragon that now occupied it. The Lord of Highgarden wore a grim face, darkened eyes and clenched jaw. It was humiliating, infuriating, to have to bow before his father's murderer. Yet his grandmother had told him off quickly at the suggestion of continuing the fight. They would lose everything with such a move, and his sister was still a hostage in Dorne. He prayed the Seven would not judge him too harshly for his cowardice.
He slowly got down on his good knee, clearly in pain from the move. The lords behind him followed suit, kneeling before Aegon Targaryen.
"Your Grace... I, Willas Tyrell, Lord of Highgarden and Lord Paramount of the Mander, submit myself to your will. By the grace of the Seven Above, I recognize your rightful claim to the Iron Throne, and the true King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm. The Reach... heartily welcomes the return of Hosue Targaryen."
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Post by pontifex on Jun 30, 2020 18:57:46 GMT -5
Aegon was not impressed. The HIgh Sparrow had already insulted him by sending a lackey. Yet he had much to do and he knew he needed the faith. "I will come if I have his oath that I need not fear his warriors' sons." It was an almost moot concession to extract, he would order his whole army to storm the Sept of Baelor if he was captured. He motioned to Harry Strickland. "Bring the Golden Company into the city to join the Lannister."
----
"Rise, Lord Tyrell, and be welcomed back into the King's Peace." Aegon replied. "I have heard tell that you are assailed on your coasts. What are the details, and how many men remain in fighting condition in the Reach? We do not have time to dwell on recent battles, former enemies who bend the knee shall always have my pardon."
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Post by Royal Joker on Jul 1, 2020 12:11:24 GMT -5
Willas Tyrell slowly stood up once more, gripping his cane hard as support.
"Your Grace have heard true. The Ironborn under Euron Greyjoy have attacked the southern Reach. They've taken the Shield Islands and the Arbor, while the Redwyne fleet lies at the bottom of the ocean. There is currently no war fleet in the Seven Kingdoms that can challenge them at sea, so we are at their mercy while they raid and pillage our coasts. Several villages and castles burn already. Yet beside the islands, our foe has made no gains on land. Highgarden still protects the Mander, with 37,700 men to deter any assault. Oldtown is guarded by my brother Garlan with 15,000 men last I heard. Yet I recently received reports that Greyjoy recently launched an attack on Oldtown with massive casualties on both sides. Yet thank the Seven, Oldtown still holds. I've sent him 6,000 men as reinforcements."
He was worried for the people and his family in Oldtown. Who knew what would happen if the greatest city in the Seven Kingdoms fell to Euron Greyjoy? He dared not dwell on such thoughts.
"What we need, your Grace, is a war fleet that can stand up to the Ironborn and retake the islands. On land we are safe for now, but we cannot make any significant gains by just defending ourselves. We need a way to properly take the fight to them, your Grace. The armies of the Reach will have to remain in the South until the Ironborn are dealt with."
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Post by pontifex on Jul 1, 2020 16:52:07 GMT -5
"Then it is as I feared, but the answer for now is clear. We have no fleet to speak of. Aurane Waters remains a pirate as ever, so the best we can do is to make the Ironborn pay dearly for every raid. I have no meeans through diplomacy or through warfare on the seas that may deter them. Yet I will not drain all the manpower of the Reach and leave it unable to defend itself. For now it may be a sound policy to take as many captives as possible, especially Highborn. Perhaps we could broker a ceasefire through ransom..."
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Post by Royal Joker on Jul 2, 2020 4:38:18 GMT -5
"We will do our utmost to deal with the Ironborn as best we can, though without a fleet I cannot promise much. The Reach will hold for now, your Grace, I swear it by the Seven."
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Post by Gandalf on Jul 2, 2020 9:24:46 GMT -5
'You have his oath, Lord King.'
Coughed the Septon, who then bowed and departed to bring word back to the Sept of Baelor.
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Post by pontifex on Jul 2, 2020 19:08:52 GMT -5
"We will do our utmost to deal with the Ironborn as best we can, though without a fleet I cannot promise much. The Reach will hold for now, your Grace, I swear it by the Seven." "It must. And when Stannis has been defeated and the northern half of the Kingdom is secure, we can muster our own fleet - perhaps hire some sellsails to bolster it - and once the Ironborn have been routed from your shores I will entrust a Tyrell the command to end this newest Ironborn invasion. I will not make the mistake of my Grandsire again. The Ironborn must be laid low for another generation and learn their place it seems." Aegon gestured. "You may go for now, my Lord. Keep us appraised of the situation in the Reach."
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Post by oznerol on Jul 13, 2020 10:53:50 GMT -5
The Lord Commander traversed the halls, which were in a frenzy of courtiers and guards, all walking back and forth like headless chickens. Sour faced noblemen and noblewomen whispered in the passageways, adorned with tapestries and statues: it was rumored the king laid incapable, felled by a mace, the helm shattered like the skull underneath. Some had already left, either to their keeps or Stannis' fold. Daemon was looking for the sand-haired Dayne, a young but reliable man, or so he hoped. A stormy cloud, heavy with rain and disgrace, looms over the capital, ready to unleash its belly's contents all over King's Landing.
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Post by Magnate Lucius on Jul 13, 2020 10:56:08 GMT -5
The Lord Commander traversed the halls, which were in a frenzy of courtiers and guards, all walking back and forth like headless chickens. Sour faced noblemen and noblewomen whispered in the passageways, adorned with tapestries and statues: it was rumored the king laid incapable, felled by a mace, the helm shattered like the skull underneath. Some had already left, either to their keeps or Stannis' fold. Daemon was looking for the sand-haired Dayne, a young but reliable man, or so he hoped. A stormy cloud, heavy with rain and disgrace, looms over the capital, ready to unleash its belly's contents all over King's Landing. Edric had heard the news as well and sentries upon the wall had reported that the Golden Company was seen moving down the main road from Hayford. The Dornish host already parked and encamped outside of King's Landing, battered and defeated. When the Lord Commander Sand found him, Edric was already packing things for his wife, Lady Jordayne, to return to Starfall with a guard of household knights. He walked out of the chambers, speaking with his knights when the Lord Commander approached. Lord Commander.The young noble says as he turns. We have gotten further word. The Captain-General, Harry Strickland, is dead. I don't know if we can rely upon the Golden Company for protection... given the state of the King's condition.Sellswords tended to follow the gold, or in this case, the blood of the Dragon.
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