A Song of Revenge and Gold: House Malroy Quest | Chapter XLVI

Welcome to A Song of Revenge and Gold: House Malroy Quest. In which you take the reins of a House of storied glorious past since Aegon’s Conquering, but whose fortunes have taken a turn for the worse in the doom that Robert’s Rebellion brought. You are Brynden Malroy, second son to Lord Vamos Malroy and Lady Esemella Hayford and the last living heir to Steadhold and House Malroy. The year is 285AC, two years after the Rebellion and a year after your return to Westeros.

House Malroy is a pre-genned House designed around the idea of a story within the Crownlands of a House fiercely loyal to the Targaryens and their attempts to live in this new world after Robert’s Rebellion. Lord Brynden Malroy is as well pre-genned but will take direction from the players in his ways and how he develops himself further. This Quest will be moderately more story driven than others of its kind, but the development of the House and her lands will take just as much importance.

If you’ve played one of the many Quests within the ASoIaF setting the rules of the SIFRP system should be known. I will be using the Game of Thrones edition, as well as a few of the expansions namely OOSP and a few house rules which will be explained as we come to them. If you have questions about how things work or why certain actions are taken I can explain them as we go along. In truth this is a learning experience for me as well.

Google Documents Mastersheet:

docs.google.com/document/d/1WiZG5xtDqbQKI31IIbqNb4zTmooivb0Ns_J6EatgWgY/edit?usp=sharing

Twitter:

twitter.com/RevengeGoldQM

Ask.FM

m.ask.fm/RevengeGoldQM

SIFRPG Resources:

mediafire.com/folder/6sar1o14399xv/SIFRP

Archive:

suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive.html?tags=House Malroy

And now without further ado.

Other urls found in this thread:

docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/15t70f-uSAGgm9tFSADoJfgfhcQwaAHKMSEVeTTIhkho/edit?usp=sharing
twitter.com/SFWRedditImages

“You’re out of practice, Barq Zos says,” Solhas remarks watching your form in the early morning.

“Tell Barq I’m certain his sister would be happy to help remedy that and I hit the bloody center,” you respond lining up a second shot. Highgarden’s tent city was waking in the wee hours of the morning, servants, pages and squires alike tending to the needs of the Lords, Ladies and Knights. Breakfast was to be served in the castle proper the third day of the Tourney following moments after. A few of your Knights had competed already, Ser Keegan of the Gullet, Ser Duncan Ureye, Ser Wat Waters and Ser Grag Hutter all going to the next round. Ser Gendry the Gray and Ser Lyonel Hill had both been upset by a Hedge Knight and a third son’s first tilt respectively. Your breath comes sharply as your focus aligns, and your hand let’s loose the arrow that streaks across the practice field, thumping into the target not a hair above the first. Turning on your heel you smile at the two Summer Islanders, Solhas laughing alongside you and Barq Zos spitting on the ground and taking up his goldenheart bow next. It felt good to have real competition again, a welcomed reminder of how much you had missed the two dusky men by your side.

“You’ve only gotten better from what I can tell my Lord,” Benjin says from his chair behind Solhas as you fall into the chair beside him loosely, “A certainty you are the favorite to win the archery contest within the week.”

“Do not tell him so. His head is big enough as is,” Solhas comments leaving you with a flat look upon your face.

Since arriving the Highgarden you had not had the chance to catch up with your Maester and Summer Islander companions, most of your time had been dedicated to making a show of your quick and earnest friendship with Ser Olymer Tyrell. Not that it had been a particularly bad thing all in all, a sober Olymer reminded you more of your close friend back home and his half-brother, Mason, perhaps with a bit more of a complex. Thus far you had been introduced to more Lords and Knights of the Reach than you could remember the name of at this point. Today however you would be sharing a box with Ser Arlen Hunt, Olymer’s friend and Lord Tarly’s bannerman. Benjin had been most pleased to hear you were mingling with the Lords of the Reach, a bias he usually tried to hide being a former Fossoway, but no less was intrigued by the possibility of marriage Olymer had offered in exchange for his help.

“You could certainly do worse than family of the Lord Paramount of the Mander, my Lord,” he spoke breaching the topic once again, “Historically the Malroys have always enjoyed a healthy relationship with the Reach, I would remind.”

“And I am certain my lady wife would take less kindly to the idea of my promising marriage before Lorelei’s first birthday,” you respond with a chuckle, “The idea is not out of mind Benjin, simply shelved for now. In the years to come, perhaps. Speaking of, the letter?”

Benjin ruffles himself up as he always had and responds with a nod, giving you cause to smile, you missed the elder man and his ways. His words of wisdom and counsel were a welcomed surprise in Highgarden as well as another possible in with the Reachlords should you need the friends in the days to come. Though upon the thought you realize your, rather embarrassing, lack of knowledge of potential family in the Reach. Recalling the night you had spent in Bitterbridge you ask, “Maester, do you recall any family of note within the Reach I may have?”

Congrats on surviving the test of your real-life plot armor Father.

Benjin laxes, pulling upon the copper link as he pondered the thought, “Not within recent memory my Lord, I’m afraid to say. You will recall your grandfather’s, Lord Emmon, sisters married to Riverlanders and Crownlanders, as had your father. The closest I can recall at the moment is a Lady Valaena Malroy marrying the Lord of House Roxton some years back.”

You screw up your face, “I swear I could remember family amongst the Meadows and Caswells.”

“Ah…” Benjin draws out, “Family yes. Though none you are likely to wish to fraternize with my Lord. Blackfyre supporters all if I recall correctly. A cousin married to a Knight of House Meadows prior to the First Rebellion with parentage of Osgrey and Vyrwel, though never a Caswell as I can remember, do you misremember my Lord? Perhaps thinking of the Caswell your Lord grandfather spoke of so often in his dying days?”

For a moment you do not recall what Benjin was speaking of, until a distant memory comes back. Lord Emmon Malroy had fought in the rebellion caused by the Rat, the Hawk, and the Pig in 251AC. He swore he had seen the Daeron Targaryen’s death, though this come fragmented and not with every retelling of the story. During the War of the Ninepenny Kings your grandfather had suffered a head injury, severely limiting him and leaving a nasty soft hole in his head. Benjin had come to your House after your previous Maester had passed and was treating Lord Emmon with milk of the poppy more often than not keeping him under for days. Occasionally he would call upon his grandchildren, yourself and Donold more often than not as you both were the only ones born before his injury, when he was cognitive enough to speak, and tell you of the battles he had once fought.

Welcome back dad how's the third eye?

Each time the names changed, as did the numbers, the colors they flew, but the most common occurrence was a Knight named Ser Camryn Caswell who he swore upon his honor had been a distant bitter cousin. In his waning days you saw your grandfather less and less, his mind simply not able to go on, and he had died early the same year you had flown to Essos.

“I… Perhaps it was. Had you ever verified any of those names Benjin? Camryn Caswell was his most often spoken one as I recall.”

Benjin scrunches up his face and shake his head in the negative, “Never my Lord. I was young at the time, fresh from the Citadel. They had sent me because of my knowledge of medicine, not my knowledge of history and family lineage. I do suppose in both regards I did fail my first charge. When I return to the Citadel I will be certain to look into the name, their libraries are far more extensive than my memory. Regardless. Lord Tarly, Ser Hunt, and Ser Olymer would all make for formidable allies my Lord. The ties of lineage would only matter to some Lords so much, in the now what you can offer an ally is of the utmost importance. Fostering children and trade will serve you better.”

“Thank you Benjin,” you respond half aware of the conversation, eyes and mind instead focused on the far away Langward and Blount pavilions in the distance. Solhas had gone to take his turn with Barq standing guard over your shoulder.

“War is inevitable,” Solhas says before firing off his first shot, aware of your line of sight, “A battle here will not give cause for the war back home to cease.”

“But crippling the Red Bastard’s allies will certainly make it easier,” you say drawing eyes back to Solhas’ arrow just slightly below your own blackshafted ones, “The Langwards are not his most earnest supporters, in truth I doubt anyone is, but they are the most powerful and most interested in gaining Steadhold for themselves.”

“Aware," Solhas remarks simply, his deep baritone echoing across the practice field, “Aware but not without concern. You are in need of more marksman Brynden, ones better than Westerosi stock. Men of power.”

“Summer Islers,” Barq Zos adds in the summer tongue, one of the few phrases you understood.

Giving them both a curious look Solhas explains, “Returned for a moment to Isles with the Maester. Collected herbs, met with priests. My parents were born in exile, Barq Zos was exiled alongside his family as is our people’s custom. Among the Free Cities there are many warriors hapless and lost. Even among our people there are those curious of the world beyond the Isles. It would not be a difficult thing to collect them in your Steadhold. Man of power, with bows of goldenheart, no Westerosi could stand up their might.”

Benjin nods his head slightly as you give him an odd look after Solhas is done speaking, “Had you given this thought as well Benjin?” you ask.

“The Summer Islanders are an impressive people my Lord, I will admit,” he says, “I am certain you know as much from your travels in Essos. While an expensive venture, I would caution against such now my Lord, as our troubles within Steadhold are certainly the more pressing matter, but perhaps in the future when war is more readily upon our doorstep.”

“A thought worth considering then,” you say. There was some truth to it, the Free Cities always had a few Summer Islanders looking for work with sellsword companies. You were aware of the Golden Company having an entire contingent of the dusky bowmen, and among the less reputable cities slaves fought in the fighting pits. Solhas and Barq Zos were easily your best archers, an entire company of the men would be a frightening thing, though more so for the fools that charged against them.

Solhas’ last arrow thunks into the target, leaving the three of you practically even for the morning. Barq Zos again spits on the ground and rambles off in the summer tongue eliciting a laugh from Solhas and Benjin and leaving you entirely confused before his dismay of not winning the pot to use on wine is made clear to you. With a roll of your eyes you throw you slip him a few more coins gaining a bright smile and a, ‘thank you Captain,’ in his tongue before he swaggers off for the day. Benjin and Solhas leave not soon after, you promising to have dinner with them and the Knights instead of inside the castle proper for a change.

Left alone for a moment your eyes again rest upon the Langward banner flapping in the morning’s summer breeze off in the distance. Olymer’s squire would be calling upon you again soon, to reaffirm your plans for the day, potentially to join him for breakfast for the morning. Lord Quentyn Qorgyle had thought it queer your sudden closeness with the man, though seldom asked questions instead being more engrossed in the current Dornish affairs Prince Oberyn Martell had brought with him. Apparently the Yronwood and their bannermen the Drinkwaters had made an appearance, a Knight named Ser Orton Yronwood, primarily among them. Quentyn had gone on to explain Orton’s father was the man that Prince Oberyn had supposedly poisoned and killed in a duel some years ago. A fact never proven but gave rise to the moniker of the Red Viper all the same and a frosty relationship between the two Houses despite Prince Doran’s best attempts otherwise. Quentyn had insisted upon you joining his family and other Dornish Lords for a meal at some point, as you likely wouldn’t have the chance in the foreseeable future.

However for the moment you thought better to stay clear of the Dornish feud, instead focusing upon your own issues, namely gaining audience with Lord Randyll Tarly and the likely subsequent Trial by Combat. The Invasion of the Princewood and few months that had followed had been good for your conditioning, your sword arm and legs had gotten soft in the year and a half of being a Lord you felt, no longer the half starved sellsword you once were. Dontos had suggested doubling down on your swordplay, Lucas meanwhile insistent upon your conditioning and endurance training, and Obella had no personal preference but was certainly enjoying the results of your hard work in the bedroom. However, in the months leading up to the Tourney in Highgarden you had decided to focus upon...

You have 40 EXP to spend. See attached image.
>An Ability costs 30 to upgrade.
>A Speciality costs 10 to upgrade/gain.
>A Destiny Point costs 50 to gain.

Seeing as you will likely be fighting in a Trial by Combat soon, some recommendations:
>Athletics, Endurance, or Fighting
>Strength, Long Blades, or Spears

Feel free to go a different direction if you wish. You have enough EXP to buy a single Ability and single Speciality or four Specialities. Or sit on it if you really want to.

Who would we like to break our fast with this morning?
>Lord Quentyn Qorgyle
>Ser Olymer Tyrell

Thank you both. And much, much better. A bit sore from the surgery still, but I can see better now, I don't get a headache when looking at a computer screen for too long. Overall quality of life vastly improved.

Glad to see you are alright. Mother would probably be a cunt if it didnt

Bow and Athletics? Sellsword it up in the duel maybe?
>mfw when we backflip and fire our arrow in the Archery contest


Who would we like to break our fast with this morning?
>Ser Olymer Tyrell

gotta get things going with the reachfolk

>Lord Quentyn Qorgyle

Pick up Endurance and Strength. More hitpoints are good and strength would make our lance and bow do more damage.

I would say we should raise our sword skill since we will soon have trial by combat

we ain't going to be using a lance in a duel and I'd rather hit our targets than hit harder than we do already

Lets so Long Blades and Endurance

Breakfasr with Quentyn

Oh and for those curious, Brynden's current stats:

docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/15t70f-uSAGgm9tFSADoJfgfhcQwaAHKMSEVeTTIhkho/edit?usp=sharing

This can be found in the Masterlist in the OP.

Sorry no bows allowed in a trial by combat.

Your Endurance is pitifully low for a fighter character I will admit.

You will actually, recall Dontos' trial by combat. It started on horseback then ended on foot.

Long Blades.

Who would we like to break our fast with this morning?

I am really indifferent. But it may be a good idea to spend some time with the family in law ?

But then again i would like to make more contact with the reach lords. Maybe we could start selling some horses ?

I'm thinking Longblades and Endurance

Endurance and Strength would be a great all-around choice. It will help with both Blades and Lance.

>Sorry no bows allowed in a trial by combat

I was talking about the archery contest

I would go Endurance and then hold off until we can improve another ability. I would rather improve our base stats first. We have enough specialization dice as it is.

Fighting

>Ser Olymer Tyrell

Alright it looks like Endurance is plenty popular. Not really that surprising as your stat has been low for a long time. So that's 30, easy enough.

Does look like a bit of a split on the Specialty though, between Strength and Long Blades. We'll do a vote, so some quick information.

Strength adds +1 damage per 1B, you already have 1, to any weapon with the 'Powerful' quality. Included among that is your Recurve and War Lance.

Long Blades will add another 1B to your Fighting rolls using your Longsword or Bastard Sword. You already have 2B, another will rise your dice pool for Fighting rolls to 4D+3B, taking penalties for weapons as they apply.

So with that in mind:
Specialty upgrade?
>Long Blades
>Strength
>Sit on it

>But then again i would like to make more contact with the reach lords.

Would you guys like that option instead? A sort of mingle in the morning deal? Sell some of those horses we brought along? I'll have to conjure up some options but I could do it.

Long blades

>>Sit on it
How's it feel to have another hole in the head dad?

>Sit on it.

I would rather we rollover EXP into fighting or athletics rather than gain another speciality. This way our fighting would almost be on par with our marksmanship, and our overall combat ability would increase.

Once we hit, say 5 fighting and 6/7 marksmanship is when we should start increasing other stats, like awareness, cunning, athletics, endurance, etc.

>Longblades

fucking swords and shit

>Strength
Dude we kinda need it now

I'd be tempted with a +1D to fighting, and another specialty in convince.

Long blades are super important in Westeros its a skill were going to constantly use

Strength

>>Long Blades

I would rather improve fighting than longblades, since we have 2b in LB as it is.

It would make more sense improving fighting, since you have a higher number of dice that contribute to the pool for attack.

If we were able to pick fighting now then sure but we need something to help us win this fight and sitting on the xp could lead to Bryden losing or dying

Its 10xp, for a minimal increase. I'll take the chance. Adding another 1b to longblades wouldn't improve or chances enough to justify the expenditure of the exp.

Given how close this was I was tempted to just call it a sit on it but technically Long Blades won, so we're going to go with that.

I'm going to be better about updating the EXP counter again. I got pretty lazy about that for awhile. Basically I give 5 EXP per thread now, so there's that.

Anyway, I'll redo the OP vote too, since it didn't get as much attention there and with a new option:

Who do we wish to break out fast with?
>Lord Quentyn Qorgyle
>Ser Olymer Tyrell
>No one in particular, mingling with the assembled Reachlords instead

Long Blades

>>Lord Quentyn Qorgyle

>Ser Olymer Tyrell

We REALLY need to begin extending the hand of friendship to the reach

y'know for money and shit, alliances etc, who we talked to last time aint gonna cut it

>>No one in particular, mingling with the assembled Reachlords instead

>No one in particular, mingling with the assembled Reachlords instead

Olymer Tyrell. Chances are Quentyn's going to be at steadhold sometime anyway to meet Lorelei.

Olymer was who we talked to nigga. And if you'd actually read, we've been spending a lot of time with him already.

>>Ser Olymer Tyrell

Quentyn's a bro already.

So is Olymer....

jesus christ read

yeah and he really shouldn't be our only friend in the reach unless you want to rely on qm fiat we should make as many as possible without getting in the pockets of others

>Chances are Quentyn's going to be at steadhold sometime anyway to meet Lorelei.
>y'know for money and shit, alliances etc, who we talked to last time aint gonna cut it

Lads you need to keep up.

>Lads you need to keep up.

you wot m8? you think just because we got him onside over a few hours he's our man?

get fucking real

>No one in particular, mingling with the assembled Reachlords instead

>Sit on it

>No one in particular, mingling with the assembled Reachlords instead

>Chances are Quentyn's going to be at steadhold sometime anyway to meet Lorelei.

He was there already? I had an entire OP about him interacting with her.

Also yeah, Olymer is your 'ally' as much as he can be with about three days under your belt.

Anyway, seeing as we're going to have plenty of time with Olymer later with Ser Arlen Hunt and the vote leaned that way anyway, we'll go with no one and I'll come up with some small interactions we can have.

>Lord Quentyn Qorgyle
People will understand we're going to our in-laws first, right?

ignore this - didn't update

Brynden could atleast flirt with a few women just to make sure he hasnt lost it yet.

Flirt maybe sleep with a few

now why the hell didn't we take Giselle as a mistress I'll never know

Obella hasn't found one that she likes yet, I guess.

No sleeping around. Flirting is fine.

>Giselle >mistress
Because she has family with bannermen and swords? maybe...
>No sleeping
boring Brynden always and forever? Where are the willpower rolls when he sees a woman? :)

>Giselle
>banner men
>only if we'd endorsed her brother user

>Willpower rolls

Who do you think we are Wilhelm of koblenz?

;.;[/spoiler

Endurance, a new morning routine that would explain why you are awake so early had you up at dawn to run the battlements of Steadhold’s walls. A few loops was usually good enough before you went off to the rest of your regimen; weighted chin-ups, pylo push-ups, jump squats, barbell bench presses. Lucas’ recommendations mostly, you had been surprised to learn the Knight had set up a small workout room in the bowels of your castle where he and the rest of the Steadhold Household Knights to keep on point. A morning of that followed by breaking your fast with Mason, who had always eaten particularly well, and then a few hours of training with your new bastard sword in the yard with Arron Qorgyle.

Not quite the doubling down Dontos had suggested but you thought it proper to teach the lad how to fight as you learned how to properly wield the hand and a half sword. It had a surprising grace and balance to it, Master Yarson hadn’t made it overly pretty, enough to denote its own, but its function was impeccable. You had always preferred to fight with a single blade, no shield to enable your rolling about the field like the sellsword you bloody were, a two handed claymore was too unwieldy for you but the bastard sword had felt just right. Thus it came as a surprise as you realized you never had thought to use one before. Arron had begun to pick up your orthodox fighting stance piece by piece, carefully studying you as you practiced on dummies and live opponents alike. He had no one his own age or size anymore to practice with properly so you took to it as well you could to make sure he got the hands on learning he needed at his age. In truth the yard was the only time the young boy ever seemed to smile or get excited. He loved the fighting but would regress to his quite solemn demeanour the moment you returned to the castle.

After that, break for lunch, go over figures with Elionwy, Ashby and Gawen upon occasion. Or sometimes meet with Jonos Stroumen and Lucas Longwaters to discuss the plight at in the Outer Ring. Neither particularly grand conversations to have while enjoying a meal but nonetheless necessary. You would then hold court for a few hours after into the afternoon, an activity your wife had insisted you attend more often with her by your side, before going to the yard again to take care of your personal stable, and ride about on Goldsong to keep your form in check. Break for dinner which was always an affair with the new dornish cook working with the chef you had picked up in King’s Landing that had helped you make the menu for hosting Nararo Aros and knock off for bed after some light work in whatever caught your fancy that night. A good routine, a healthy one, one that kept your mind from idly wandering to thoughts of Isis, to that burning feeling in your heart whenever Royce crossed mind, of missing your son’s presence in Steadhold.

“Lord Malroy?” a young voice interrupts your idle thoughts, the young squire who wore the gold and green livery of House Tyrell, “Ser Olymer Tyrell sent me with a message my Lord.”

“You may speak squire.”

“Ser Olymer requests you attend him in his private box at the onset of the Tourney today my Lord. He will not be competing personally until the day after and would like another day to size up his competition with another born warrior. Also, he extends the invitation for you to break fast with him this morning.”

“Noted squire I will attend Ser Olymer during the Tourney, as promised. However, I will be breaking my fast alone today, send him my apologies.”

The boy nods sharply, “Yes my Lord. Good day.”

He scampers off leaving you alone for a moment yet again, though this time distinctly more aware of the noise and commotion going on around you. Lords and Knights alike were readying themselves to compete, others were beginning the trek up to the castle proper with their wives and children. You notice the House Conklyn banner in the distance along the path towards the castle gates and decide it was about time you got ready for the day yourself.

---

You stretch your chest and arms for a moment after realizing Arron had set out one of your tighter doublets, not so much to be uncomfortable, but just enough to distinctly remind you of the tightness in your chest. Benjin had once lamented his inability to treat the bit of what he guessed was bone that protruded from your chest as you had already been too old to properly bind it, though was able to fix Pastorn’s a mite. You never thought much of it, Benjin had told you horror of boys growing up with a full point, ridiculed as deformed for much of their lives, in comparison yours was harmless at worst. Your father had guessed it was a Hayford thing, as two of your mother’s brothers had developed the deformity in their youth that had persisted into their old age as well.

Goldsong shakes his head as you guide him towards the castle proper, Lucas and Wesley Hayford in tow. They were both chatting about being father’s soon, neither seemingly ready for that burden of responsibility, though your cousin seemed far more excited about it than Lucas had. Perhaps it was the final nail in the bachelor coffin for the latter. Lady Brune had not attended the Tourney, instead opting to stay in Hayford with Wesley’s father who had taken a liking to the young woman, for whatever reason no one particularly knew. But all the same a good thing for the man’s less than stellar mental state of late.

A quick swing off of Goldsong you hand off his reigns to the stablehand and march into the castle’s grand hall alongside the horde of Reachlords and ladies that had attended. Half of the standards you did not even recognize, by a chance the other half outside of the obvious.

Lucas and Wesley flank your seat upon the fourth dial, you could have sat higher today you realize, but instead decided it was best to scope the crowd from here.

“The last time the three of us were together like this no one had a child yet,” Wesley remarks with a small smile, “How the times change. I never even thought to be the future Lord of Hayford let alone representing her in Highgarden of all places.”

“A well deserved turn of fortune,” Lucas says eyes wandering after a server girl for a moment before snapping back in place remembering his wife was likely in the hall as well.

“Though not without its tragedy,” Wesley remarks softly so only you can hear, a thought that receives a slight nod from you. The two Knights begin to talk of various things again, Wesley explaining to Lucas how he was expanding Hayford’s grain production again, a very dry topic for the obviously bored Longwaters.

Remaining quiet you instead watch the crowds, the small groups that come together of Lords and Ladies that knew one another in some small way or another. Olymer had recommended you mingle about the crowd here and there, being very excited when you mentioned your relations with Lord Mathis Rowan saying it was a very good start for your name to get back out there in the Reach. So far as he was concerned, trade, even a single one off ordeal was as good an ice breaker as any, though it would be more proper to consider it an exchanging of gifts. Otherwise it was suggested simply chatting them up, making friends in the lowest of places never truly hurt, as did recruiting others to your cause. Dontos had mentioned before you left in his last letter to remember you still could recruit another twenty odd Knights and a Tourney was an excellent place to do so. Noting three possible groups to interject yourself into you decide to speak with…

>The three Ladies close by, one is obviously of House Vyrwel, another is of House Pommingham and the last of House Dunn
>A collection of Hightower bannermen, Knights most like, Beesbury and Costayne primarily among them
>Who you assume is Lord Paxter Redwyne with the black ship Lord and two more bannermen you are not sure the names of

>>Who you assume is Lord Paxter Redwyne with the black ship Lord and two more bannermen you are not sure the names of

>>Who you assume is Lord Paxter Redwyne with the black ship Lord and two more bannermen you are not sure the names of

>Who you assume is Lord Paxter Redwyne with the black ship Lord and two more bannermen you are not sure the names of

>Who you assume is Lord Paxter Redwyne with the black ship Lord and two more bannermen you are not sure the names of

Time to meet the golden child.

Glad to hear you're doing better!

(I'm reading two threads at once, so I'm a bit late with the congratulations.)

>The three Ladies close by, one is obviously of House Vyrwel, another is of House Pommingham and the last of House Dunn

Give me the Malroy ;^)

Also for the love of god mention the caravansi in future trade deals, it will need as much traffick as it can get

>>The three Ladies close by[...]
Malroy charms!

>Who you assume is Lord Paxter Redwyne with the black ship Lord and two more bannermen you are not sure the names of

Avoid the Hightowers due to Mason, and avoid the ladies too, no need for a will check.

>Who you assume is Lord Paxter Redwyne with the black ship Lord and two more bannermen you are not sure the names of

Karban!

(I say just control him and use him how you'd like, Father. If Princely doesn't like us using a character he hasn't touched in almost four years, he can come tell us himself.)

Princely can't write stories from beyond the grave user.

>avoid the ladies too, no need for a will check
What are we supposed to do with these wild oats if we're not going to sow them?

We are. IN Obella.

Yeah, but she has employed farming restrictions on her fields.

“Brynden I do believe the giggling gaggle of young women to our right is looking our way,” Lucas whispers into your ear giving you a moment to half choke on your drink through laughter.

“Married. Men,” Wesley responds flatly without glancing either of your ways and instead eyes remaining pressed forward, “And your wife is well aware of you Ser Lucas.”

Lucas looks across the dial and is greeted by the glowering look of Lady Racheal Conklyn, her arms crossed over her chest, foot tapping upon the stone floor in possibly the most annoyed matter you had ever seen. Wesley and you break into laughter, and Lucas groans, flopping back into his chair and brushing his hair back from his face.

“Off with you then,” Wesley says, “Before you lose a wife.”

Lucas pushes himself up and the two of your watch as he attempts his absolute best to maintain his confidence in his stride across the dial and subsequent attempts to butter up his wife once reaching him.

“Wesley would you join me for a walk up a few dials?” you ask suddenly and he casts his eyes upwards alongside you.

“For what purpose?”

“I believe I see Lord Paxter Redwyne speaking to his sworn Lords and Knights,” you say watching the slightly older than you men speak excitedly, “And don’t you wish to get to know your competition? I believe three of those men will be competing today alongside you.”

“Lord Redwyne is a bit out of our depth isn’t he?” Wesley asks nervously, “Olymer Tyrell seemed to imply as much.”

“Well I’m not after his sponsorship,” you respond, “A quick chat with another man that produces the finest gold in the land wouldn’t do us any harm.”

You push off your seat, and pull Wesley up who has suddenly lost any sense of bravado he had before. The three young women who had been indeed watching your table go to intercept the two of you, giving you pause for a moment to make courtesies at the very least.

A crop is not wild if planted in a pasture.

All I know about dynasties I have from CK2... can we "review" ladies for the spy network?

It's like you want a Blackfyre rebellion of our very own.

“Lord Malroy?” the Vyrwel lady asks as she stops dead in your path.

Grimacing slightly you put on a proper face, “Yes, Brynden Malroy, my Lady..?”

“Liviana Vyrwel.”

“A pleasure then my Lady, but you will excus-”

“Oh I do not mean to be a bother my Lord,” she says sweetly, her voice laced with honey but with a faux meek undertone that told you of obvious flirtation, “My father had spoken highly of you once. I only wished to meet you, and request you save a dance for me tonight at the feast?”

Her tone and body language gives you pause, her red hair is a mess of curls and tangle but falls gently above her ample bosom that she is clearly pressing forward with her fingers in knots behind her back. Her two friends giggle behind her and the obviousness of it all almost makes you roll your eyes and deny her but you keep yourself composed, “A dance my Lady? Perhaps one, though I make no promises. A good day Lady Vyrwel, do enjoy yourself at the Tourney.”

You hardly give her time to speak before dancing around her, Wesley following wordlessly behind you his face blistering red from holding down his laughter, “Everywhere you bloody go Brynden. Every-fucking-where innit?”

“Not a word Wes,” you respond taking the steps up the dials by twos until you reach the second where Lord Paxter stands with his Knights. Crossing the dial to the far side you catch the very end of their conversation.

“...the best of luck Ser Wilhelm Merrywind and Ser Palmer Portain. You will do the Order of Vines I am proud I am sure. Dustain we can continue this conversation another time, I am well aware you are capable of fielding your own fleet, Seven knows you’ve the coin for it, but this is not the time for such a hasty decisions. Perhaps in our youth when the bannermen were my own. But not against the ironborn.”

You can read the look of unhappiness on the black ship Lord's face at the decision as he walks off the other two knights, likely his own, behind him. Paxter meanwhile looks perturbed but is no less inviting when his eye catches upon you and he approaches, “Lord Malroy I presume?”

“You presume correctly Lord Paxter Redwyne. Brynden Malroy, and my cousin the future Lord of Hayford, Ser Wesley. A great pleasure it is to meet and be recognized by you.”

He scoffs, waving his hand though with a slightly perplexed look upon his face, “If I retained anything from the Maesters it has been heraldry, certainly hard to forget a Valyrian House as it is. Tell me though, I was told there was a brother before you? You’ll forgive me for asking.”

A pang of pain hits your heart, of course not everyone was aware that Donold had died, or that your line was close to dying before your return, particularly so far south as The Arbor, you respond with a delicate tone, “An elder brother yes. Donold Malroy, he unfortunately died upon the Trident two years ago. I was the second son, as you suspected.”

Paxter looks to you with a sudden guilt, “My apologies for your loss Lord Malroy. I should not have asked, my father once told me my lips were before my mind. Suppose age has done little to solve that. Upon another note my Lord, would you do me the honor of a chat? I had need of your House’s services. Please, feel free to sit with me, your cousin as well.”

“Of course Lord Redwyne, you honor me,” you say sitting across from the Lord of The Arbor and his wife Mina Tyrell, “Services though my Lord?”

I'm just voting for Obexit, leave me alone.

“Matters of horse. We have those who breed upon the Arbor, but none so fine and beautiful as your own. A bannerman’s, close friend in truth, nameday approaches. Lord Karban the man I was speaking with before you in fact, I had thought to purchase him a gift here and your golden horses would be as fine a gift as possible for a man with enough coin to buy the Arbor if whim desired it,” Paxter says with a laugh.

“You are in luck then Lord Paxter,” you respond with a smile, “I have brought along some of my family’s pride and joy. Even those among the highest of quality of my herd. Gold never looked so fine.”

Scoffing again, Paxter says, “You have not seen a glass of Arbor gold then Lord Malroy. Let us say this, two flagons of Arbor gold, my personal vintage, in exchange for one of your finest coursers. I would require two of course, and you will receive four flagons. A deal Lord Malroy?

Gold for gold, not a particularly bad deal, you think rubbing your thumb and middle finger together in idle thought. Though perhaps you could get more?

Accept Lord Paxter Redwyne’s deal?
>Yay
>Neigh

Hey dad, does Brynden have chest orthosis? Cause I have that and description sounds vaguely familiar.

>Yay

I am rock hard with excitement to see what became of Karban. I know it's probably not cool to blow off your quest when you've surpassed the original QM's so much but it's been so long that we've waited for this.

So he's only offering 4 bottles of wine for two of our very best? Arbor Gold is expensive but that doesn't seem enough.

>Yay

>>Yay
Another lord will ride one of our horses, free ad.
Haggle a bit!

>Yay

>Neigh
Why two "Of course"?

>Liviana Vyrwel >red hair >ample bosom
A noble Talia (King's Landing lady Brynden enjoyed bedding)?

>>Yay
We're out of our depth, and this man is not our peer. But it might not hurt to take this deal anyway.

>>Yay

I'm thinking we could save the Arbour Gold as a gift when we next need to woo someone to our side. Plus we can give a flagon for Longwaters when we visit. And Obella will like it when we return.

We get her super-drunk and pregnant again, and have a dimwit son.

>Yay

Four cask of wine.