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Post by Royal Joker on Jun 17, 2020 5:47:40 GMT -5
"You fought for me at the village against Bolton. If you bend the knee you will be pardoned, and I shall name you your father's heir. You will have a husband of my choosing, and will abandon your heathen God. If not, you will die."The King's eyes were like burned out stars, the light long since gone from them. All that remained were two blackened rocks, staring at Asha intently. "Your brother may not have killed the Stark boys, but the Northmen won't let him live. Given the state that Bolton left him in, death would be merciful. Or he could take the black, and atone for his crimes on the Wall."
A white-haired, scrawny figure walked among the people of Winterfell, looking for Jon Snow. He did not know if he had the courage to face him, but to say nothing would damn his soul forever.
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Post by oznerol on Jun 17, 2020 6:13:40 GMT -5
"You fought for me at the village against Bolton. If you bend the knee you will be pardoned, and I shall name you your father's heir. You will have a husband of my choosing, and will abandon your heathen God. If not, you will die."The King's eyes were like burned out stars, the light long since gone from them. All that remained were two blackened rocks, staring at Asha intently. "Your brother may not have killed the Stark boys, but the Northmen won't let him live. Given the state that Bolton left him in, death would be merciful. Or he could take the black, and atone for his crimes on the Wall."
A white-haired, scrawny figure walked among the people of Winterfell, looking for Jon Snow. He did not know if he had the courage to face him, but to say nothing would damn his soul forever. He was there at the Godswoord, where he felt more at ease, the sword in the knees, a loincloth bathed in oil on his hand. He wore no cloak, despite the cold, and the vapor of the termal springs gathered around in the cold chilling air of a winter morning. His long face was lowered down, focused on cleaning a sword that was long clean, but he followed the ripples with the cloth, ripples like water and smoke made steel, woven together like a song by a smith with magic and words in long lost Valyria. Ghost raised a head nimbled with white fur, eyes like twin braziers, red on a pale snowy mantle, and looked in dead silence as a man who was no longer a man approached the man who died and was returned.
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Post by Gandalf on Jun 17, 2020 9:22:32 GMT -5
”Baelish rules the Trident, and apparently holds the Vale for Cersei also. Littlefinger will not join us, unless something is in it for himself. Robert should have got rid of him long ago.”
The King grimaced, almost a smile in the dim light. Davos had stumbled onto an idea without realising it.
”We will take the Twins. Sieges are long and brutal, but I will find a way.”
Melisandre’s Red God smiled on him, as it smiled on Lord Snow. A fickle deity was the Lord of Light.
”Your son should arrive here soon, from the Wall. Along with my daughter, wife, and the Red Woman.”
Stannis plainly stated, giving Davos a long look.
”If Lord Snow is speaking true, she may have found another champion for her Red God. He was brought back from the dead after being stabbed by his own brothers.”
Baratheon was not uncouth enough to spit, but the Watch left a sour taste in his mouth. When he was done, he would ride up north and rebuild it, starting with hanging all the thieves and gutter filth that had been sent there from King’s Landing.
—
”Who comes before the Gods this night, to be joined as one?”
Asked the King, who stood before the Weirwood like an iron statue, cold eyed and grim faced. Though it was bitterly cold, he did not shiver, the crown of pale gold resting gently on his temples.
—
”Trust me or not. I am your king, that is law. I am not my brother, or mad Aerys, or Joffrey.”
Stannis decided to let the matter settle when Mormont finally dropped to a knee. The King gave a tired nod, but his deep brow furrowed even further.
”A will? Rickon is his brother’s heir. You will find him with Snow, in the Great Hall.”
—-
”Fine. Keep to your God.”
Stannis grunted, Asha’s words reminding him of the obstinacy of the Northmen. If he burned the Godswood at Winterfell, they would have turned on him faster than they did Bolton.
”It will appease the Northmen to see it done.”
The King agreed, with a firm nod.
”Now, kneel.”
He commanded, taking a step forwards to tower over her.
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Post by pontifex on Jun 17, 2020 9:37:26 GMT -5
Ser Richard narrowed his eyes at the King's words. "Lady Walda...Bolton's widow?" A smile crept from the corners of his mouth. Let his brother keep his claim to Crow's Nest, a hovel compared to the Dreadfort. "It would be an honor, your Grace. I'll plant an heir in her womb and return to the field within a moon's turn."
-----
Lord Lester Morrigen returned from the south, a bit frost-bitten, but nothing some hours in front of a fire with some broth wouldn't fix. When he was well recovered, he came to the High Hall in Winterfell and presented himself before the King. "King Stannis." he began. "Moat Cailin is yours. The garrison surrendered without a fight. Two such men have taken their oaths and joined our ranks. The rest I allowed to return to their ploughshares and villages in return for throwing down their arms. Only one prisoner, Ser Rogar, was taken forcibly. I have brought him to Winterfell to await your justice. I know it is not my place, but I would suggest he be allowed to take the black your Grace, if he has sense enough to take it."
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Post by Gandalf on Jun 17, 2020 10:44:59 GMT -5
Ser Richard narrowed his eyes at the King's words. "Lady Walda...Bolton's widow?" A smile crept from the corners of his mouth. Let his brother keep his claim to Crow's Nest, a hovel compared to the Dreadfort. "It would be an honor, your Grace. I'll plant an heir in her womb and return to the field within a moon's turn." ----- Lord Lester Morrigen returned from the south, a bit frost-bitten, but nothing some hours in front of a fire with some broth wouldn't fix. When he was well recovered, he came to the High Hall in Winterfell and presented himself before the King. "King Stannis." he began. "Moat Cailin is yours. The garrison surrendered without a fight. Two such men have taken their oaths and joined our ranks. The rest I allowed to return to their ploughshares and villages in return for throwing down their arms. Only one prisoner, Ser Rogar, was taken forcibly. I have brought him to Winterfell to await your justice. I know it is not my place, but I would suggest he be allowed to take the black your Grace, if he has sense enough to take it."
Stannis was warming his hands in front of the fire, ocean blue eyes staring deeply into the crackling flames. After a moment, he tore his gaze away, looking directly at Lester.
"Ser Rogar, you say? I shall have him sent to the Wall on the morrow. The Watch needs every man, even the scum who would fight for Bolton."
The King went silent for a moment, returning to gaze grimly into the flames.
"You have leave to go and rest, Lord Morrigen. Keep up your strength, for soon we shall march again."
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Post by Pinkerton on Jun 17, 2020 10:57:45 GMT -5
A raggedy man, accompanied by a visibly pregnant woman and a young toddler appeared in Winterfell.
The man claimed he was Edmure Tully and asked to see King Stannis
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Post by Gandalf on Jun 17, 2020 15:36:15 GMT -5
"This one says he's Edmure Tully. I suppose that there is his Frey bitch, and their suckling babe."
Said Richard Horpe, his lips turned downwards into a mocking sneer, as the guards on the gate brought the former Lord of Riverrun in from the cold toward's Winterfell's keep. A crow could be heard, squawking over the wind.
"Aye. And I am Viserys Targaryen."
Replied Clayton Suggs, the pig knight stifling an ugly chortle.
"That is Lord Edmure, you idiots."
Rolland Storm towered over them both, the scarred knight having caught a glimpse of the Lord of Riverrun once or twice during a tourney.
"Bring him to the King."
The bastard boomed. Horpe and Suggs looked a little sheepish when the pair were brought into Winterfell's Great Hall, where what remained of the Starks and King Stannis had gathered.
"Lord Edmure of Riverrun. Lady Roslin."
Stannis was as stern as the grave. Edmure had seen dead men with more cheer than the King that now sat in Lord Eddard's chair.
"Those that know you say you are a fool. Yet here you stand before me, having escaped the bowels of Casterly Rock."
Davos and Devan stood on the King's left, his Hand and squire. On his right stood the Red Woman, pale as a ghost, hair the colour of blood on snow. Food was brought, a warm broth with parsnip and onion. Ale, too, cheap and bitter.
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Post by oznerol on Jun 17, 2020 15:56:21 GMT -5
”Baelish rules the Trident, and apparently holds the Vale for Cersei also. Littlefinger will not join us, unless something is in it for himself. Robert should have got rid of him long ago.”The King grimaced, almost a smile in the dim light. Davos had stumbled onto an idea without realising it. ”We will take the Twins. Sieges are long and brutal, but I will find a way.”Melisandre’s Red God smiled on him, as it smiled on Lord Snow. A fickle deity was the Lord of Light. ”Your son should arrive here soon, from the Wall. Along with my daughter, wife, and the Red Woman.”Stannis plainly stated, giving Davos a long look. ”If Lord Snow is speaking true, she may have found another champion for her Red God. He was brought back from the dead after being stabbed by his own brothers.”Baratheon was not uncouth enough to spit, but the Watch left a sour taste in his mouth. When he was done, he would ride up north and rebuild it, starting with hanging all the thieves and gutter filth that had been sent there from King’s Landing. — ”Who comes before the Gods this night, to be joined as one?”Asked the King, who stood before the Weirwood like an iron statue, cold eyed and grim faced. Though it was bitterly cold, he did not shiver, the crown of pale gold resting gently on his temples. Said Davos, scratching his chin, covered in a salt-pepper bead. "Aye, sire, if you took Winterfell the Twins will last less than a pot of gruel in Flea Bottom"
He approached the fireplace, to warn his hands. Davos then served himself a bit of wine that was always warming at the spot, next to the fire. "I can't wait to see my son and the princess both, I miss them greatly. Your daughter might resume her lessons, if you allow her, I bet she'll be glad to teach this old sea dog again"Seaworth smiled, sipping the warm hippocras. "I didn't believe in such things, but I've seen her birthing shadows. So, if she brought Snow back must be for a reason. He'll make a fine Warden"---- "Jon, son of Ned Stark, Warden of the North"He said, by Val's hand. "Val, daughter of Dallor, of the Free Folk"She simply stated her parentage, nothing she had, save her heart and her spirit.
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Post by Royal Joker on Jun 17, 2020 16:00:20 GMT -5
”Fine. Keep to your God.”Stannis grunted, Asha’s words reminding him of the obstinacy of the Northmen. If he burned the Godswood at Winterfell, they would have turned on him faster than they did Bolton. ”It will appease the Northmen to see it done.” The King agreed, with a firm nod. ”Now, kneel.”He commanded, taking a step forwards to tower over her.
He was there at the Godswoord, where he felt more at ease, the sword in the knees, a loincloth bathed in oil on his hand. He wore no cloak, despite the cold, and the vapor of the termal springs gathered around in the cold chilling air of a winter morning. His long face was lowered down, focused on cleaning a sword that was long clean, but he followed the ripples with the cloth, ripples like water and smoke made steel, woven together like a song by a smith with magic and words in long lost Valyria. Ghost raised a head nimbled with white fur, eyes like twin braziers, red on a pale snowy mantle, and looked in dead silence as a man who was no longer a man approached the man who died and was returned. "Jon...?"
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Post by oznerol on Jun 17, 2020 16:10:14 GMT -5
”Fine. Keep to your God.”Stannis grunted, Asha’s words reminding him of the obstinacy of the Northmen. If he burned the Godswood at Winterfell, they would have turned on him faster than they did Bolton. ”It will appease the Northmen to see it done.” The King agreed, with a firm nod. ”Now, kneel.”He commanded, taking a step forwards to tower over her.
He was there at the Godswoord, where he felt more at ease, the sword in the knees, a loincloth bathed in oil on his hand. He wore no cloak, despite the cold, and the vapor of the termal springs gathered around in the cold chilling air of a winter morning. His long face was lowered down, focused on cleaning a sword that was long clean, but he followed the ripples with the cloth, ripples like water and smoke made steel, woven together like a song by a smith with magic and words in long lost Valyria. Ghost raised a head nimbled with white fur, eyes like twin braziers, red on a pale snowy mantle, and looked in dead silence as a man who was no longer a man approached the man who died and was returned. "Jon...?" Jon was brought from his meditation and brooding by someone uttering his name. He looked for the source and saw a ruin of a man, the hard brittle and white, the tooth broken, fingers missing. He frowns, then looks at the kraken over the chest and a certain something on his face. He raises from the root he was sitting, breathless. "Theon?!"He puts the sword aside, resting on the large trunk. "I..."He had betrayed Robb, killed Cassel and brought much sorrow to the North. Yet... he knew he had paid for it, this no longer was a man carrying guilt, whatever his sins, they were long due. "How?"
Jon approached the man. He didn't feel pity, he found only sadness and grief for a time lost, when everyone was happier and lived carelessly.
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Post by Pinkerton on Jun 17, 2020 16:25:13 GMT -5
"Lord Edmure of Riverrun. Lady Roslin."Stannis was as stern as the grave. Edmure had seen dead men with more cheer than the King that now sat in Lord Eddard's chair. "Those that know you say you are a fool. Yet here you stand before me, having escaped the bowels of Casterly Rock."Davos and Devan stood on the King's left, his Hand and squire. On his right stood the Red Woman, pale as a ghost, hair the colour of blood on snow. Food was brought, a warm broth with parsnip and onion. Ale, too, cheap and bitter.
The smell of the food invaded Edmure's nostrils and he began to realize how hungry he was. But he was too proud to eat in front of his new King?"I hear you've defeated the Boltons and that you intend to bring the Freys to justice. I can pledge myself to a King like that, if you'll have me."
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LD
Veteran 
Posts: 35
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Post by LD on Jun 17, 2020 16:32:24 GMT -5
”Trust me or not. I am your king, that is law. I am not my brother, or mad Aerys, or Joffrey.”Stannis decided to let the matter settle when Mormont finally dropped to a knee. The King gave a tired nod, but his deep brow furrowed even further. ”A will? Rickon is his brother’s heir. You will find him with Snow, in the Great Hall.” Lady Maege took a brief pause before continiueing. "Galbart Glover and I were sent on the Young Wolf's behalf to Greywater Watch in order to reclaim Motte Cailin and the North from Balon Greyjoy's attempt to conquer the North within our absence", she explained after a while, "At the time, both Bran and Rickon Stark were reported dead by Bolton's bastard, so the line of succession was endangered as both Stark sisters were still held prisoners at King's Landing. When we were tasked with the mission, the King in the North declared Jon Snow as his heir, should he perish in battle, wishing to see him legitimized."Mormont knew that a man like Stannis Baratheon didn't value rival kings among him - so far she had already found out now in personal. Yet the will of a dead person, precisely the one of a dead de jure Lord Paramount was another thing. "Given that the King in the North is dead and you are our king by law, if not the only King, who helped us at the brink of defeat, it would be best if you would participate within the decision whether we should honor Stark's last will, for it is what he wished before fate stroke him down at the Red Wedding or if it should be seen as a desperate decision from a man of family, who seemingly had lost everything before he met his own demise. Only the King is able to legitimize a bastard... and apparently you are the King."Maege was realistic, despite her dislike for Stannis. Even if she would talk with Rickon and Jon in private, as it was at least good to know, that the bastard had miraculously found his way from the Wall back to Winterfell, there was no point in continiueing Robb Stark's campaign. The North has been betrayed from the inside, pillaged by the Ironborn and made mutal agreements with the Southrons in order to reclaim its freedom. Independence was the wish, caused by the Lannister's injustice upon Eddard Stark and the kingdom's failure as a whole. Back then the North had manpower. Manpower which was now broken, as all sides have suffered while the Lannisters triumphed so far. It was unlikely that Jon Snow, a mere bastard whose legitimization only herself, Mallister and Glover could now confirm, given that the mother of the Young Wolf died as well, could rally up the same support behind him as his Lord brother did. She was certain that it was the right thing to legitimize him, as unlike his siblings he could still fight and perhaps inspire the men of the North in a similiar way like Robb Stark used to... yet, it required a King's word. The King in the North was dead, this was the reality. Stannis' words though mattered. Enough to legitimize a Stark bastard, should he win the war.
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Post by oznerol on Jun 17, 2020 16:36:33 GMT -5
Davos looked at Edmure with curiousity, how had this man escaped? This was a merry coincidence.
"Edmure, you're Lord of Riverrun, it's your birthright"
Said the Hand, arms behind his back, a little badge over his chest.
"Would your vassals raise for you again? Or fear will keep them in Littlefinger's thrall?"
Devan was by the king's side, holding a plate with a glass and a jar of warm wine, ready to pour. He looked very dignified in a creamy doublet with the royal arms. His hair well-combed and trimmed he looked every inch a lordling, which made Davos more proud than he had felt in years.
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Post by Gandalf on Jun 17, 2020 16:54:27 GMT -5
@davos:
"It brings her joy. That is reason enough for her to continue."
The King said, almost a murmur.
"I also need a Hand who can read. They will be here soon, I sent for them when Winterfell was taken."
Stannis took a cup of water to whet his throat.
"Frey holds a tight grip on the Riverlands. The power of the Twins must be broken if the Riverlords are to declare for me."
Rickon was half a Tully, this was true. But the rightful heir to Riverrun sat in imprisoned in Casterly Rock, if the news from the south was true.
---
"Then by my right as King, I pronounce you wed."
Said the King. Crows cawed from the treetops in celebration, as a muted cheers was taken up among the northern lords and stormlander knights.
---
"I offered Snow legitimisation on the Wall, to name him Lord of Winterfell. He refused me."
Stannis bluntly replied, a shadow passing over his face.
"I named Rickon his brother's heir, as Lord of Winterfell. What Robb Stark wrote in his will matters not. It is words on paper, the words of a dead king that usurped his crown from my realm."
The King's jaw clenched, skin stretched like cured leather.
"I will say no more."
---
"I will bring justice to all my enemies, Lord Edmure. The Freys and Lannisters included."
The King leaned forward, towering down on the former Lord of Riverrun even when seated.
"My Hand speaks true. You are the Lord of Riverrun. If you bend the knee and swear me your fealty, your past loyalties shall be pardoned. I need good men, and I shall return you to your seat."
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Post by pontifex on Jun 17, 2020 17:15:45 GMT -5
"The Twins will be no small fief to take." Lord Morrigen interjected after Davos finished speaking. "It will either be a long winter siege or a costly assault. Only after that will the Riverlands be laid bare to us. After what the Freys and Lannisters have done in the Riverlands, it is all but gauranteed that they will flock to his banners once more. After that we must focus on Baelish."
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