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Post by oznerol on Jun 4, 2020 4:04:31 GMT -5
By Royal Decree Garlan Tyrell, secondborn son of Mace Tyrell, Warden of the South, Lord of Highgarden, etc, has been named lord of Brightwater Keep, the traditional seat and ancestral home of the sly and treacherous Florents, to him and his heirs of the body, lawfully begotten. That much is written, sealed with golden wax by the hand of an infant king. However, there is a wide gap, sometimes, from theory and reality and, actually, Brightwater Keep is not free to take, unocuppied, a family -or what was left of it- remains within its walls and towers. Still, Garlan had a duty, as lord of the castle he had to seize it and claim it as its own. The Tyrell knight had passed through Highgarden, conferring with his elder brother Willas, and marching with a powerful host of twenty thousand men, many of them good men-at-arms from the Reach. The banners of Webber, Merryweather, Fossoway -red and green, albeit the second were close in kind and the the first were not- Ambrose, Bulwer, Ashford, Peake, Roxton and many more, including a few roses, arrived to the said castle and laid siege to it. A large tower was being built, alongise many ladders and mantlets and a ram, covered its roof by thick wet hives from cows slaughtered to feed the army. Garlan planted green silken pabillion behind the siege lines and forbid any men in the army to plunder the land or mistreat the peasants: they were now his, by right. The Gallant Tyrell awaited for the preparations to be completed while he sparred with four men at once. He expected the Florents to surrender sooner than later, sparing garrison and family the worst of war and the outcome of a siege when the castle was seized by the storm.
The Army of the Twin Roses: Commander: Ser Garlan Tyrell, Lord of Brightwater Keep. Troops: 20,000. 8,000 Light Infantry. 4,000 Archers. 4,000 Men-at-Arms. 2,000 Light Cavalry. 2,000 Knights.
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Post by Royal Joker on Jun 4, 2020 9:40:03 GMT -5
An outrider arrives at camp, the golden rose of House Tyrell on his cloak. He delivered a sealed letter to Garlan. It read as thus:
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Post by Gandalf on Jun 4, 2020 19:39:30 GMT -5
Word arrives that the Redwyne fleet has been smashed off the coast of the Arbor by Euron Greyjoy. Oldtown and the Mander now lie open.
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Post by oznerol on Jun 5, 2020 3:29:00 GMT -5
"The Redwyne fleet crushed?"
Garlan said, confused, holding the small parchment with a hand clad in a steel articulated gauntlet.
"Sire, that cannot be true"
"Call for my brother Lyonel"
The one who spoke in disbelief was Denys Redwyne -squire to ser Garlan and twice his cousin, by maternal and parental lines both- who held the older man's war helm, that the Tyrell had removed to be able to read the missive comfortably. They both stood behind the siege lines, in a trench, while some troops were testing the defenses, ladders in tow; seemingly Brightwater was well-defended, it would be too hard to take on the assault. However, that wasn't the most pressing concern right now. A knight with an armor covered in vines and a green apple for surcoat, arrived in a hurry: Lyonel Fossoway.
"Ser Garlan!"
"Ser Lyonel! We have to ring a retreat"
"We do... what?"
Garlan, clad in an emerald-green armor handed the letter to his brother-in-law.
"This... is impossible"
"We cannot let my grandfather at Oldtown defenseless, we must hurry, defending the Mander is more important than this castle. And Oldtown must not fall"
"Ser, what about my kin? Are my mother, Lady Redwyne and her daughter alive or prey to the Iroborn?"
"By the Seven, that much I don't know. We better march"
By virtue of marriage, both Lady Redwynes were aunts to Ser Garlan: Denys' mother was Lord Leyton's daughter, while Lord Paxter's wife was none other than Mina Tyrell, sister to Mace himself. The three of them left the trenches. Soon thereafter clarions sung a song of retreat all over the siege lines. There was no time for a siege. The siege equipment was either dismantled or discarded, the troops arranged themselves for a march, as instructed. Garlan himself shouting orders from the top of his stallion. The Tyrell host moved, man by man, the way of Oldtown, moving swiftly to reinforce the grandest city of Westeros.
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Post by Royal Joker on Jun 5, 2020 12:21:10 GMT -5
A rider arrived from Highgarden, carrying a sealed letter from Willas Tyrell.
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Post by Royal Joker on Jun 7, 2020 12:16:55 GMT -5
After Garlan had reached Oldtown, a raven arrived from Highgarden addressed to him. The writ had been done in haste.
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Post by oznerol on Jun 7, 2020 16:02:58 GMT -5
The wise men at the Citadel had, long time ago, designed complex wooden elevators within the structure, mostly conceived to transport food or supplies inside the Hightower: the lifts went through the very spine of the building. However, these mechanisms were scarce and most the folks visiting the Hightowers' seat would make the long climb all by themselves: fortunately, wide ramps circled the tower, going around it and one could ride them by horse. The wide, arched and vaultes passageways had room for a full monted knight to ride through. At certain points there were portcullis that could be lowered, halting a potential foe's advance. These gatehouses made the tower a fortress within a fortress, making it almost impregnable.
Garlan rode, very gallantly, his way to the Hightower residence at the upper levels, acompanied by a score of retainers, the finest among the Reach, including Fossoways of both hues, Redwynes, Goldwynes, Ambrose, Webber, Peake, Ashfords and the like. They unmounted at the last gatehouse, crossing into a wide terrace covered by fabulous hanging gardens and a flamboyant park that could only be surpassed by the wonders of Highgarden itself. Lions roared at the menagerie, birds of a thousand colors chirped inside golden tracery cages, and carps from Yi Ti danced in the clear waters of the marble ponds. Garlan handed his helmet to his squire Denys Redwyne and advanced through the lavish environment, where noblemen and noblewomen strode, following the stone-paved paths. A welcome party came to welcome him, he didn't expect his grandfather to welcome him -as he usually stayed at his chambers, secluded with his eldest daughter, Garlan's aunt, Malora-, so the Tyrell readied himselt to salute one of his many uncles, or even his third grandmother, Rhea Florent; albeit that notion made him slightly uncomfortable. The web of marriages was hard to untangle for the casual observer, for his uncle Gunthor was also his brother-in-law too, married to Leonette's sister, Jayne and most of them were related in several different ways. Maesters often got headaches tracing the lineages of the Reach. The Gallant Tyrell stood, in full armor, the green shining like a mirror, with inlaid gold, the surcoat strewn with a myriad golden roses. He also wore a black cloth tied around his left arm, close to the heart, as symbol of mourning.
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Post by Gandalf on Jun 8, 2020 10:22:25 GMT -5
Ser Baelor Hightower emerged, flanked by Hightower retainers. Brightsmile was still handsome in his middle age, though the dark curls were now flecked with grey and crow’s feet had emerged around his eyes. Tall and robust, the heir to Oldtown looked perhaps like an older version of Garlan himself.
“Welcome, dear nephew.”
Baelor spread his arms wide and offered his kinsman an embrace.
“We looked forward to your coming for some days. A shame it is not in better circumstances.”
Hightower’s fleet had escaped most of the carnage, but Lord Paxter’s ships and lands were broken and defiled.
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Post by oznerol on Jun 8, 2020 10:49:47 GMT -5
Ser Baelor Hightower emerged, flanked by Hightower retainers. Brightsmile was still handsome in his middle age, though the dark curls were now flecked with grey and crow’s feet had emerged around his eyes. Tall and robust, the heir to Oldtown looked perhaps like an older version of Garlan himself. “Welcome, dear nephew.” Baelor spread his arms wide and offered his kinsman an embrace. “We looked forward to your coming for some days. A shame it is not in better circumstances.” Hightower’s fleet had escaped most of the carnage, but Lord Paxter’s ships and lands were broken and defiled. "Uncle Baelor"He said, returning the embrace. "Always pleasant to set foot on the Hightower yet again"Garlan smiled very slightly, sorrowful. "Could at least Redwyne's household fly from the Arbor in time? Our close kin is among them! I would rue if my cousin Desmera is in the hands of those savages..."Garlan's squire was his cousin, but also Baelor's nephew. The boy, with a mop of red hair, looked troubled. "At the very least I could come with a strong force, ten-and-five thousand troops, to guard Oldtown and your seat, uncle"
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Post by Gandalf on Jun 8, 2020 10:59:45 GMT -5
Baelor's lips stretched into a restrained smile, offering the young Redwyne a reassuring hand on the shoulder.
"Fear not, Lord Paxter's family fled to the safety of Oldtown's walls when they heard the Shields first fell. They are here, should you wish to see them."
Paxter himself emerged, looking well but wearied. He offered Garlan a deft inclination of the head in acknowledgement. Accompanying him was a host of his kin and kinswomen, Hightower and Redwyne Sers and ladies that formed the vast web of Garlan's familial relations.
"We are most grateful for it. We will need every man."
Paxter said, announcing his presence.
"Crow's Eye is more than he seems. I do not know what smashed my fleet, but the Greyjoy has more than ships and men at his command."
Redwyne sounded cowed, even a little fearful. Dark circles were visible under his baggy eyes.
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Post by oznerol on Jun 8, 2020 11:39:43 GMT -5
"Thanks the Seven"
Said Garlan.
"Uncle Redwyne, I'm relieved that my kin could manage to avoid capture"
He offered hand and arm to the red-haired lord to grab and shake.
"Oldtown is old and strong, never has fallen to the enemy, properly defended with the banners of Hightower, the rest of your ships and my own host, it shall never be captured. I won't allow it. But we must stay alert"
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Post by perry on Jun 8, 2020 19:21:40 GMT -5
A letter is sent to Oldtown, addressed to Paxter Redwyne. Purple wax and a bushel of grapes seal the letter. Written in the hand of Rymsport’s Maester.
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Post by Gandalf on Jun 9, 2020 7:42:48 GMT -5
Baelor summoned a war council in the chamber of the Hightower dedicated to such matters, seldom used though it had been in the last decade. At the centre lay a table, rather like Aegon's at Dragonstone, save it was a map of the Reach and the surrounding border territories. Paxter Redwyne was present, clutching a letter, along with what remained of his bannermen.
"I have word here from the Arbor that the Ironmen have departed."
Began Lord Redwyne. There was a few murmurs.
"Lord Hightower tells me that the Ironborn have been spotted reaving down the coast, towards the Broken Arm. Their garrisons on the shields remain, but the Arbor is held only by a token force."
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Post by oznerol on Jun 9, 2020 9:11:05 GMT -5
Baelor summoned a war council in the chamber of the Hightower dedicated to such matters, seldom used though it had been in the last decade. At the centre lay a table, rather like Aegon's at Dragonstone, save it was a map of the Reach and the surrounding border territories. Paxter Redwyne was present, clutching a letter, along with what remained of his bannermen. "I have word here from the Arbor that the Ironmen have departed." Began Lord Redwyne. There was a few murmurs. "Lord Hightower tells me that the Ironborn have been spotted reaving down the coast, towards the Broken Arm. Their garrisons on the shields remain, but the Arbor is held only by a token force." "It's a farce. Your maester is probably writing with a knife to the neck"Said Garlan. "Euron is trying to conquer our lands, he crushed our fleets. The prize is Oldtown, not meager villages along the coast"
He pointed at the map. "I won't move a single soldier from this city. Least so to fall into a trap, uncle"
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Post by Gandalf on Jun 9, 2020 9:16:43 GMT -5
"Our lands and homes have been burned, Lord Tyrell. We must strike now, whilst the Greyjoy gone. Retake the Shields, Retake the Arbor."
Chimed Goldwyne, whose brother and uncle both died against the Iron Fleet outside Oldtown.
Paxter scratched at his whiskered jaw. Baelor Hightower remained silent, for now.
"We should at least determine exactly where this Euron is before we sail. I am eager to return as much as any of you, but we should be cautious to leave the safety of the walls with Ironmen and gods know what else prowling our waters."
He still saw it when he slept. Clear as day. Tentacles, pulling entire ships to their doom.
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