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Post by Gandalf on Jun 26, 2020 8:56:44 GMT -5
The fleet arrived at Gulltown some weeks after Templeton's own return. Ships of all shapes and sizes flying the banners of the mer-man and the fiery stag, carrying the host of northmen and sellswords that the king had gathered to his banners. Grafton had looked to their coming, and they filled his harbours and those of the towns and villages that surrounded the Vale's only city. Stannis Baratheon had come to the Vale of Arryn at last. The Fury was the first to dock, the King the first to touch his boots on the pier of Gulltown's harbour, with his Hand and his Red Woman at his side. Their coming had been looked for for some days, but it was the Lord of Light's will that the good weather held and their voyage was untroubled by storms. Most of the King's household had accompanied him, even the Queen and the Princess Shireen, who accompanied her father with her new sworn sword Devan Seaworth at her side. Stannis looked resigned, even frustrated, likely at the prospect of having to deal with Baelish and his lackeys. --- THE KNIGHTS OF THE FLAMING HEART
An order of chivalry created 301 years after the conquest by King Stannis Baratheon, first of his name. A hundred loyal and leal knights have pledged their swords and hearts of R'hllor and his champion, the Prince that Was Promised. {Known Members}
Ser Harrold Arryn, Lord of the Eyrie
Ser Lester Morrigen, Lord of Crow's Nest
Ser Axell Florent
Ser Albar Royce
Ser Robert Waynwood
Ser Lothar Lipps
Ser Rolland Storm
Ser Lomas Corbray
Ser Richard Horpe
Ser Clayton Suggs
Ser Godry Farring, the Giantslayer
Ser Malegorn of Redpool
Ser Narbert Grandison
Ser Benethon Scales
Ser Dorden the Dour
Ser Lambert Whitewater
Ser Perkin Follard
Ser Devan Seaworth
Ser Shadrich, the Mad Mouse
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Post by Magnate Lucius on Jun 26, 2020 10:25:17 GMT -5
Harrold Hardyng, the would-be heir of Robert Arryn, was situated on the dock with Ser Morton at his side. The arrival of Stannis was anticipated, but it still brought a dreary air to his mood prior. Word had come, from Ser Templeton, that Stannis agreed to let Baelish remain as Lord Protector of the Vale. Not even a step forward. It made him wonder how long the Vale would tolerate these lies of supporting the claim of Robert's heir. He had tried to assert himself, but it revealed just not only how many supported him, but how many close to Baelish were in his pockets. The only capable person he could use to counter Baelish was in his pocket. As a result, Harrold listened to the advice of Nestor, keeping his head low and pretending to be content.
When the sails came to port, Harrold could hardly see the horizon nor the oceans beyond the fleet that came with Baratheon. Somehow, the Red King had rebounded from nothing and now had tens of thousands at his command. Was this R'hllor god for real and thus favoring him or was Stannis truly the legend that he had been told as a child? When Stannis, his Queen, and others of his household disembarked, Harrold would kneel in plain view with Ser Morton at his side. His livery, depicting the Arryn, Waynwood, and Hardyng sigils, very evident upon his person. He would not be mistaken at this crucial moment.
Your Grace.
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Post by oznerol on Jun 26, 2020 10:36:41 GMT -5
And with him came the North, again marching South under wolven banners. But chiefly among them fluttered one with a white direwolf in a black field, Lord Snow's battle standard and personal sigil. The Warden of the North landed in Gulltown with a guard of wildlings, those who refused to leave the resurrected lord's side and now, wearing mail and weilding steel, served as his guards of the body. Lady Val refused to be left behind like kneeler and came with her husband, wearing herself a silvery suit of mail.
THE NORTHERN HOST:
100 Men of Snow:
-100 HI.
900 Men of the Dreafort.
-500 HI, 200 AR, 100 LI, 100 HC.
1,500 Men of the Wolfswood.
-650 LI, 350 AR, 300 HI, 150 LC, 50 HC.
250 Men of the Bear Isle.
-150 LI, 50 AR, 50 HI.
250 Men of Ironrath.
-200 LI, 50 AR.
500 Men of Cerwyn.
-300 LI, 150 AR, 50 LC
950 Men of Tallhart.
-650 HI, 300 AR
1,000 Men of Hornwood.
-500 LI, 400 HI, 100 HC
500 Men of Cassel.
-400 AR, 100 HI
1,500 Men of the Rills.
-600 LI, 400 HI, 300 LC, 200 HC
2,000 Men of the Barrows.
-1,300 HI, 550 ARC, 150 HC
1,000 Men of Last Hearth.
-800 HI, 200 AR
700 Men of the Flints.
-600 LI, 100 AR
750 Men of the Clans.
-500 LI, 250 AR
TOTAL: 11,900 Men.
Commanders: Jon Snow, Maege Mormont, Torrhen Whitehill, Mors 'Crowfood' Umber, Roger Ryswell, Rickard Ryswell, Galbart Glover, Robett Glover, Rodrik 'the Ruin' Forrester, Harle the Handsome, Harle the Hunter.
---
Lord Baelish and Lady Sansa both had arrived to Gulltown a week prior and welcomed King Stannis unmounted in the town's largest square, alongside a score of handsomely-dressed and armored lords, including some of Littlefinger's greatest allies, like Ser Templeton, Lord Grafton, Lord Corbray and many more.
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Post by Gandalf on Jun 26, 2020 11:12:23 GMT -5
Harrold Hardyng, the would-be heir of Robert Arryn, was situated on the dock with Ser Morton at his side. The arrival of Stannis was anticipated, but it still brought a dreary air to his mood prior. Word had come, from Ser Templeton, that Stannis agreed to let Baelish remain as Lord Protector of the Vale. Not even a step forward. It made him wonder how long the Vale would tolerate these lies of supporting the claim of Robert's heir. He had tried to assert himself, but it revealed just not only how many supported him, but how many close to Baelish were in his pockets. The only capable person he could use to counter Baelish was in his pocket. As a result, Harrold listened to the advice of Nestor, keeping his head low and pretending to be content. When the sails came to port, Harrold could hardly see the horizon nor the oceans beyond the fleet that came with Baratheon. Somehow, the Red King had rebounded from nothing and now had tens of thousands at his command. Was this R'hllor god for real and thus favoring him or was Stannis truly the legend that he had been told as a child? When Stannis, his Queen, and others of his household disembarked, Harrold would kneel in plain view with Ser Morton at his side. His livery, depicting the Arryn, Waynwood, and Hardyng sigils, very evident upon his person. He would not be mistaken at this crucial moment. Your Grace.
Commanded the King, gazing down at the heir to the Vale from on high. Eyes of ocean blue betrayed little save for a faint hint of recognition."Ser Templeton spoke of you in Winterfell. You are the late Lord Robert's next of kin, are you not?"
Stannis' eyes hardened into a grimace.
"It grieved me to hear of his passing. Lord Jon was an honourable man. Though the son is not always the father."
Robert was young and sickly, and had been too coddled by his fool mother. Women's weakness had crept into him.
"We shall speak more later. I am not as abreast of the doings of the Vale as I would like." And with him came the North, again marching South under wolven banners. But chiefly among them fluttered one with a white direwolf in a black field, Lord Snow's battle standard and personal sigil. The Warden of the North landed in Gulltown with a guard of wildlings, those who refused to leave the resurrected lord's side and now, wearing mail and weilding steel, served as his guards of the body. Lady Val refused to be left behind like kneeler and came with her husband, wearing herself a silvery suit of mail.
THE NORTHERN HOST:100 Men of Snow: -100 HI. 900 Men of the Dreafort. -500 HI, 200 AR, 100 LI, 100 HC. 1,500 Men of the Wolfswood. -650 LI, 350 AR, 300 HI, 150 LC, 50 HC. 250 Men of the Bear Isle. -150 LI, 50 AR, 50 HI. 250 Men of Ironrath. -200 LI, 50 AR. 500 Men of Cerwyn. -300 LI, 150 AR, 50 LC 950 Men of Tallhart. -650 HI, 300 AR 1,000 Men of Hornwood. -500 LI, 400 HI, 100 HC 500 Men of Cassel. -400 AR, 100 HI 1,500 Men of the Rills. -600 LI, 400 HI, 300 LC, 200 HC 2,000 Men of the Barrows. -1,300 HI, 550 ARC, 150 HC 1,000 Men of Last Hearth. -800 HI, 200 AR 700 Men of the Flints. -600 LI, 100 AR 750 Men of the Clans. -500 LI, 250 AR TOTAL: 11,900 Men.Commanders: Jon Snow, Maege Mormont, Torrhen Whitehill, Mors 'Crowfood' Umber, Roger Ryswell, Rickard Ryswell, Galbart Glover, Robett Glover, Rodrik 'the Ruin' Forrester, Harle the Handsome, Harle the Hunter. --- Lord Baelish and Lady Sansa both had arrived to Gulltown a week prior and welcomed King Stannis unmounted in the town's largest square, alongside a score of handsomely-dressed and armored lords, including some of Littlefinger's greatest allies, like Ser Templeton, Lord Grafton, Lord Corbray and many more.
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Post by oznerol on Jun 26, 2020 11:28:30 GMT -5
Harrold Hardyng, the would-be heir of Robert Arryn, was situated on the dock with Ser Morton at his side. The arrival of Stannis was anticipated, but it still brought a dreary air to his mood prior. Word had come, from Ser Templeton, that Stannis agreed to let Baelish remain as Lord Protector of the Vale. Not even a step forward. It made him wonder how long the Vale would tolerate these lies of supporting the claim of Robert's heir. He had tried to assert himself, but it revealed just not only how many supported him, but how many close to Baelish were in his pockets. The only capable person he could use to counter Baelish was in his pocket. As a result, Harrold listened to the advice of Nestor, keeping his head low and pretending to be content. When the sails came to port, Harrold could hardly see the horizon nor the oceans beyond the fleet that came with Baratheon. Somehow, the Red King had rebounded from nothing and now had tens of thousands at his command. Was this R'hllor god for real and thus favoring him or was Stannis truly the legend that he had been told as a child? When Stannis, his Queen, and others of his household disembarked, Harrold would kneel in plain view with Ser Morton at his side. His livery, depicting the Arryn, Waynwood, and Hardyng sigils, very evident upon his person. He would not be mistaken at this crucial moment. Your Grace.
Commanded the King, gazing down at the heir to the Vale from on high. Eyes of ocean blue betrayed little save for a faint hint of recognition."Ser Templeton spoke of you in Winterfell. You are the late Lord Robert's next of kin, are you not?"
Stannis' eyes hardened into a grimace.
"It grieved me to hear of his passing. Lord Jon was an honourable man. Though the son is not always the father."
Robert was young and sickly, and had been too coddled by his fool mother. Women's weakness had crept into him.
"We shall speak more later. I am not as abreast of the doings of the Vale as I would like." And with him came the North, again marching South under wolven banners. But chiefly among them fluttered one with a white direwolf in a black field, Lord Snow's battle standard and personal sigil. The Warden of the North landed in Gulltown with a guard of wildlings, those who refused to leave the resurrected lord's side and now, wearing mail and weilding steel, served as his guards of the body. Lady Val refused to be left behind like kneeler and came with her husband, wearing herself a silvery suit of mail.
THE NORTHERN HOST:100 Men of Snow: -100 HI. 900 Men of the Dreafort. -500 HI, 200 AR, 100 LI, 100 HC. 1,500 Men of the Wolfswood. -650 LI, 350 AR, 300 HI, 150 LC, 50 HC. 250 Men of the Bear Isle. -150 LI, 50 AR, 50 HI. 250 Men of Ironrath. -200 LI, 50 AR. 500 Men of Cerwyn. -300 LI, 150 AR, 50 LC 950 Men of Tallhart. -650 HI, 300 AR 1,000 Men of Hornwood. -500 LI, 400 HI, 100 HC 500 Men of Cassel. -400 AR, 100 HI 1,500 Men of the Rills. -600 LI, 400 HI, 300 LC, 200 HC 2,000 Men of the Barrows. -1,300 HI, 550 ARC, 150 HC 1,000 Men of Last Hearth. -800 HI, 200 AR 700 Men of the Flints. -600 LI, 100 AR 750 Men of the Clans. -500 LI, 250 AR TOTAL: 11,900 Men.Commanders: Jon Snow, Maege Mormont, Torrhen Whitehill, Mors 'Crowfood' Umber, Roger Ryswell, Rickard Ryswell, Galbart Glover, Robett Glover, Rodrik 'the Ruin' Forrester, Harle the Handsome, Harle the Hunter. --- Lord Baelish and Lady Sansa both had arrived to Gulltown a week prior and welcomed King Stannis unmounted in the town's largest square, alongside a score of handsomely-dressed and armored lords, including some of Littlefinger's greatest allies, like Ser Templeton, Lord Grafton, Lord Corbray and many more. Said Baelish with a smile. He wore cloth of gold and a cloack of furs. "I married his widow and took care of his child and the Vale both"His grey-green eyes stare at Baratheon coldly. "Welcome to the Vale, the banners have been called and gathered for Your Grace"--- Sansa wore white and gray, ermine and wool. She looked more and more like Catelyn, but with the grace of youth, unblemished by pregnancy or sorrow. She looked at Stannis with bright eyes, once she had hoped for the man to take King's Landing and rescue her and kill her captor and torturer, Joffrey. But the road was a hard one and it had taken years for them both to look each other face to face. Her copper-like hair is tied up and braided. Stark looked beautiful like the morning, tall and willowy. She curtsied. "Your Grace, we could have met years ago, on the Blackwater, alas, it was not to be"She looks up at him with those blue eyes of her. Baelish subtly observed her from a step behind, his eyes clouded by something hard to ascertain. --- Jon was in Stannis' company, but it took him some time to reach the square, because he overlooked the landing and gave commands to scores of lords and men in order to make their arrival orderly. But, he finally reached the square and... there she was. "Sansa?"
He cried out, unmounting, unsure about how to proceed as he walked to her. ---
"Jon?"The mask of courtesy slipped. She had never that much love for the bastard when they were children, stranged as they were due lady Catelyn's open disgust for her husband's natural-sired offspring. But, with Arya and Brandon dead and gone and their father now a pile of bones in a crypt the pull of blood and kin was stronger than past rivalries that now made little sense. Her eyes went watery and she threw herself in Jon's arms. "I'm... I'm so glad, forgive me please, for all I ever did to you... I..."--- "Hush, no need. All is past and forgiven"Jon held her in his arms, while Baelish and Stannis stood as mere spectators. "I'm so glad... Rickon is alive and well, in Winterfell"--- "Oh, is he? Thanks the Mother!"She left few tears flow freely, running through her cheeks, but she wiped them with a gloved hand. Even Jon shed one on his own.
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Post by Magnate Lucius on Jun 26, 2020 11:30:43 GMT -5
"Rise, Ser Hardyng."Commanded the King, gazing down at the heir to the Vale from on high. Eyes of ocean blue betrayed little save for a faint hint of recognition."Ser Templeton spoke of you in Winterfell. You are the late Lord Robert's next of kin, are you not?"Stannis' eyes hardened into a grimace."It grieved me to hear of his passing. Lord Jon was an honourable man. Though the son is not always the father."Robert was young and sickly, and had been too coddled by his fool mother. Women's weakness had crept into him."We shall speak more later. I am not as abreast of the doings of the Vale as I would like." Harrold rises from his knelt position. Indeed I am, Your Grace. I am Jon Arryn's great nephew via his sister, Alys Arryn, my grandmother. Her youngest daughter was my mother... but I did not know my mother as she died shortly after I was born. Jon Arryn was good to me as a child as was my cousin, Lady Anya Waynwood.What a steeled gaze, thought the young Valeman. Stannis Baratheon had an aura about him that was unlike any man Harrold had met thus far. It is unfortunate that Robert died while still but a youth.Ser Hardyng looks at the Stag King. I understand, Your Grace. I plan to attend meetings during your stay with us. I have had little to do otherwise with the Lord Protector running the Vale.
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Post by Pinkerton on Jun 26, 2020 11:32:24 GMT -5
Templeton stood firmly beside Baelish, finely dressed but in armour, as usual.
---
Edmure was a bit shocked to see that it was truly her niece and not a fake conjured by Baelish.
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Post by oznerol on Jun 26, 2020 11:35:14 GMT -5
Templeton stood firmly beside Baelish, finely dressed but in armour, as usual. --- Edmure was a bit shocked to see that it was truly her niece and not a fake conjured by Baelish. She asked, few years had passed, but he was unmistakably her mother's brother. Sansa left Jon's embrace, who openned his arms, and she curtsied to Tully as well. They were pretty much alike, niece and uncle, as Lady Cat had greatly resembled her siblings. "My Lord"
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Post by Gandalf on Jun 26, 2020 11:51:03 GMT -5
"Rise, Ser Hardyng."
Commanded the King, gazing down at the heir to the Vale from on high. Eyes of ocean blue betrayed little save for a faint hint of recognition."Ser Templeton spoke of you in Winterfell. You are the late Lord Robert's next of kin, are you not?"
Stannis' eyes hardened into a grimace.
"It grieved me to hear of his passing. Lord Jon was an honourable man. Though the son is not always the father."
Robert was young and sickly, and had been too coddled by his fool mother. Women's weakness had crept into him.
"We shall speak more later. I am not as abreast of the doings of the Vale as I would like.""My lords. Lady Stark."The King waited for them to kneel. He was armed and armoured, wearing a yellow and black surcoat depicting both the flaming heart and the crowned stag of Baratheon. Stannis tightened his jaw reflexively, meeting the gaze of Baelish directly."Lord Baelish. I did not look to find the Master of Coin as the new Defender of the Vale, warming the late Lord Jon's seat."Littlefinger had always irked him, him and Varys both. For now though the King appeared to guard his temper, his face a mask of cold iron. Said Baelish with a smile. He wore cloth of gold and a cloack of furs. "I married his widow and took care of his child and the Vale both"His grey-green eyes stare at Baratheon coldly. "Welcome to the Vale, the banners have been called and gathered for Your Grace"--- Sansa wore white and gray, ermine and wool. She looked more and more like Catelyn, but with the grace of youth, unblemished by pregnancy or sorrow. She looked at Stannis with bright eyes, once she had hoped for the man to take King's Landing and rescue her and kill her captor and torturer, Joffrey. But the road was a hard one and it had taken years for them both to look each other face to face. Her copper-like hair is tied up and braided. Stark looked beautiful like the morning, tall and willowy. She curtsied. "Your Grace, we could have met years ago, on the Blackwater, alas, it was not to be"She looks up at him with those blue eyes of her. Baelish subtly observed her from a step behind, his eyes clouded by something hard to ascertain. --- Jon was in Stannis' company, but it took him some time to reach the square, because he overlooked the landing and gave commands to scores of lords and men in order to make their arrival orderly. But, he finally reached the square and... there she was. "Sansa?"
He cried out, unmounting, unsure about how to proceed as he walked to her. ---
"Jon?"The mask of courtesy slipped. She had never that much love for the bastard when they were children, stranged as they were due lady Catelyn's open disgust for her husband's natural-sired offspring. But, with Arya and Brandon dead and gone and their father now a pile of bones in a crypt the pull of blood and kin was stronger than past rivalries that now made little sense. Her eyes went watery and she threw herself in Jon's arms. "I'm... I'm so glad, forgive me please, for all I ever did to you... I..."--- "Hush, no need. All is past and forgiven"Jon held her in his arms, while Baelish and Stannis stood as mere spectators. "I'm so glad... Rickon is alive and well, in Winterfell"--- "Oh, is he? Thanks the Mother!"She left few tears flow freely, running through her cheeks, but she wiped them with a gloved hand. Even Jon shed one on his own.
The King's jaw tightened even further. "Ser Templeton ably sung your praises to me in Winterfell. I have heard much of your supposed virtues."
Stannis gestured to the Knight of Ninestars with a black gloved hand. "Good. We shall march from the Bloody Gate in a few weeks and bring the pretender to heel."
--
"I remember. You were in the hands of Cersei Lannister. And yet here you are."
The King had heard that the Lady Sansa had some part to play in Joffrey's death. Like many others, he had assumed her to have fled with the Imp or otherwise been killed.
"I thought we had freed your sister at Winterfell, the young Lady Arya. Nothing more than a Lannister impostor. Poole, a steward's daughter. Perhaps you knew her."
Stannis grit his teeth into a a sort of rueful smile.
"You have my condolences, for what they are worth."
"Rise, Ser Hardyng."Commanded the King, gazing down at the heir to the Vale from on high. Eyes of ocean blue betrayed little save for a faint hint of recognition."Ser Templeton spoke of you in Winterfell. You are the late Lord Robert's next of kin, are you not?"Stannis' eyes hardened into a grimace."It grieved me to hear of his passing. Lord Jon was an honourable man. Though the son is not always the father."Robert was young and sickly, and had been too coddled by his fool mother. Women's weakness had crept into him."We shall speak more later. I am not as abreast of the doings of the Vale as I would like." Harrold rises from his knelt position. Indeed I am, Your Grace. I am Jon Arryn's great nephew via his sister, Alys Arryn, my grandmother. Her youngest daughter was my mother... but I did not know my mother as she died shortly after I was born. Jon Arryn was good to me as a child as was my cousin, Lady Anya Waynwood.What a steeled gaze, thought the young Valeman. Stannis Baratheon had an aura about him that was unlike any man Harrold had met thus far. It is unfortunate that Robert died while still but a youth.Ser Hardyng looks at the Stag King. I understand, Your Grace. I plan to attend meetings during your stay with us. I have had little to do otherwise with the Lord Protector running the Vale.
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Post by Magnate Lucius on Jun 26, 2020 11:58:15 GMT -5
"We shall have to address the matter of your succession, it seems."The King mused. Hardyng was a man grown, and seemed rather less of a brute than Templeton had otherwise inferred."Will you be riding with me to war, Ser Harrold? Or would you remain here in the Vale with your protector and defender?" Harrold glances in the direction of Lord Baelish then back at the King. I have been... advised to not be so arduous in my pursuits. Despite my utmost desire to prove myself worthy as Jon and Robert's heir.The Valeman responds. Apparently, I need a Lord Protector so that I may father an heir. I was told to focus solely on that. Whenever I am to be married that is to Lady Stark and whenever an heir is chosen to rule the Vale.It had been a delayed affair due to a number of reasons. Both on the matter of marriage and the supposed time needed for an heir to be chosen. As I said, Your Grace, I have very little to do.He thought for a moment before lowering his voice. Perhaps, Sire, I could explain everything with a meeting. I still need to pay proper homage to my liege after all.
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Post by oznerol on Jun 26, 2020 11:59:10 GMT -5
"It's my duty, king Stannis"Said Baelish with a smile. He wore cloth of gold and a cloack of furs. "I married his widow and took care of his child and the Vale both"His grey-green eyes stare at Baratheon coldly. "Welcome to the Vale, the banners have been called and gathered for Your Grace"--- Sansa wore white and gray, ermine and wool. She looked more and more like Catelyn, but with the grace of youth, unblemished by pregnancy or sorrow. She looked at Stannis with bright eyes, once she had hoped for the man to take King's Landing and rescue her and kill her captor and torturer, Joffrey. But the road was a hard one and it had taken years for them both to look each other face to face. Her copper-like hair is tied up and braided. Stark looked beautiful like the morning, tall and willowy. She curtsied. "Your Grace, we could have met years ago, on the Blackwater, alas, it was not to be"She looks up at him with those blue eyes of her. Baelish subtly observed her from a step behind, his eyes clouded by something hard to ascertain. --- Jon was in Stannis' company, but it took him some time to reach the square, because he overlooked the landing and gave commands to scores of lords and men in order to make their arrival orderly. But, he finally reached the square and... there she was. "Sansa?"
He cried out, unmounting, unsure about how to proceed as he walked to her. ---
"Jon?"The mask of courtesy slipped. She had never that much love for the bastard when they were children, stranged as they were due lady Catelyn's open disgust for her husband's natural-sired offspring. But, with Arya and Brandon dead and gone and their father now a pile of bones in a crypt the pull of blood and kin was stronger than past rivalries that now made little sense. Her eyes went watery and she threw herself in Jon's arms. "I'm... I'm so glad, forgive me please, for all I ever did to you... I..."--- "Hush, no need. All is past and forgiven"Jon held her in his arms, while Baelish and Stannis stood as mere spectators. "I'm so glad... Rickon is alive and well, in Winterfell"--- "Oh, is he? Thanks the Mother!"She left few tears flow freely, running through her cheeks, but she wiped them with a gloved hand. Even Jon shed one on his own. The King's jaw tightened even further. "Ser Templeton ably sung your praises to me in Winterfell. I have heard much of your supposed virtues."
Stannis gestured to the Knight of Ninestars with a black gloved hand. "Good. We shall march from the Bloody Gate in a few weeks and bring the pretender to heel."
--
"I remember. You were in the hands of Cersei Lannister. And yet here you are."
The King had heard that the Lady Sansa had some part to play in Joffrey's death. Like many others, he had assumed her to have fled with the Imp or otherwise been killed.
"I thought we had freed your sister at Winterfell, the young Lady Arya. Nothing more than a Lannister impostor. Poole, a steward's daughter. Perhaps you knew her."
Stannis grit his teeth into a a sort of rueful smile.
"You have my condolences, for what they are worth."
He said, humbly. "And here we are. Finally serving the one true king of Westeros"Baelish looks at Templeton. "Aye, a good man the knight of Ninestars is"A useful one.
"The strenght of the Vale is yours, soon we shall take the high road"--- "Jeyne... I thought she was dead. Great friend of mine, I hope she's well..."She could not imagine the terrors he had to pass through. "Aye, I'm grateful, sire"
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Post by Pinkerton on Jun 26, 2020 11:59:50 GMT -5
Templeton stood firmly beside Baelish, finely dressed but in armour, as usual. --- Edmure was a bit shocked to see that it was truly her niece and not a fake conjured by Baelish. She asked, few years had passed, but he was unmistakably her mother's brother. Sansa left Jon's embrace, who openned his arms, and she curtsied to Tully as well. They were pretty much alike, niece and uncle, as Lady Cat had greatly resembled her siblings. "My Lord"
Although he did not know if being at Baelish's side was a safe position to be in. All the fond memories he had of Petyr slowly vanished as the years had passed and all that remained now was disdain for the kind of man he had become. He approached Sansa and whispered something in her ear "Once I reclaim Riverrun you are welcome to come. Winterfell will surely take you in as well. You needn't remain here..."
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Post by perry on Jun 26, 2020 12:02:28 GMT -5
Lord Wylis had been charged with commanding his father's men in this second southern campaign, in addition to the thousand men he'd raised from his new seat the Hornwood. 810 Men (228 LI, 152 AR, 304 HI, 38 LC, and 88 HC) of the White Harbor and 2,200 Mercenaries (770 LI, 550 AR, 550 HI, 330 LC) came south as well. The fleet that had ferried the men south was largely Manderly as well, 42 War Galleys and 34 Cogs flying the Merman of Manderly. A collection of fine vessels made from sturdy northern wood, with extravagant carved figures on the bows.
The portly Lord Wylis Manderly, attended as Stannis met these Valemen. Wylis fiddled with the trident shaped clasp that held his teal cloak aloft, he wore a wide set of armor, embossed to have the appearance of seaweed. After his time as a captive he felt apprehensive away from the safety of the North. He did not trust these southerners, who had refused to march for Robb. It seemed to the Walrus Lord that honor had died in the Vale with Lord Jon.
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Post by oznerol on Jun 26, 2020 12:05:39 GMT -5
"Uncle Edmure?"She asked, few years had passed, but he was unmistakably her mother's brother. Sansa left Jon's embrace, who openned his arms, and she curtsied to Tully as well. They were pretty much alike, niece and uncle, as Lady Cat had greatly resembled her siblings. "My Lord"
Although he did not know if being at Baelish's side was a safe position to be in. All the fond memories he had of Petyr slowly vanished as the years had passed and all that remained now was disdain for the kind of man he had become. He approached Sansa and whispered something in her ear "Once I reclaim Riverrun you are welcome to come. Winterfell will surely take you in as well. You needn't remain here..." She said, bowing her head and lowering her eyelids, looking to a side. However, the gamble of Baelish had failed, the North was not hers to grab, neither Riverrun and the Trident, now she had to bow and kneel, like any other lady, and that left a bitter taste in her mouth, no matter her kindred being alive was a balm for her. She was again at the mercy of others, powerless, without agency or control whatsoever.
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Post by Gandalf on Jun 26, 2020 12:11:26 GMT -5
The King looked faintly amused, a smile passing over his tightened lips.
"The Lady Stark? So, that is why she suddenly re-emerged in the Vale. She was to marry you be the lady of the Vale."
Stannis wondered why the lords of the Vale were so contented with affairs as they stood. Something had obviously gone awry with those plans if they had not wed yet.
"Very well. I shall speak with you later, Hardyng."
---
"Lord of Harrenhal, they made you. A pretty title. Last held by Janos Slynt, whose head was removed for disobeying his Lord Commander. I feel Black Harren's curse has less to do with any ghosts but rather the men that hold it."
The King nodded in the direction of Lord Snow. His jaw loosened.
"The Vale's fealty has long been due. But I accept it, so long as I know who leads their armies into war."
Certainly not Baelish himself. Littlefinger was adept at running brothels, but had no place on a battlefield.
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"She was trained and beaten in a King's Landing whorehouse, if her word is true. And beaten worse still by the Bastard of Bolton."
Stannis glanced momentarily at Baelish.
"But she lives, thanks to the Greyjoy turncloak."
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