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It is the days before swords would be drawn in anger, and brother would slay brother on a crimson field. It is the days after the last dragon met its end a malformed runt, last of a once proud line.

Aegon the Unworthy has passed, the crowned beast a bedridden grotesque dying under his own corpulence. It is the first days of Daeron the Good, a lull in the storm of Targaryen rule.

And there is to be a wedding, and a union, of young lovers and of crowns. The Blessed’s work is finished where the Young Dragon failed. A pact has been made and the seven kingdoms are to become one, with a great tourney in honour of the young bride. Joined not by dragons and swords or wars of conquest, but by the marriage bed.

It is a time of bastards.

It is the time of House Blackfyre.

You are bastard born, your father a minor lord sworn to serve a Great House.

> He serves House Tully in the Riverlands, you are a Rivers
> He serves House Tyrell in the Reach, you are a Flowers
> He serves House Lannister in the Westerlands, you are a Hill
> He serves House Arryn in the Vale, you are a Stone
> He serves House Stark in the North, you are a Snow
> He serves House Baratheon in the Stormlands, you are a Storm
> He serves House Greyjoy in the Iron Islands, you are a Pyke
> He serves House Targaryen in the Crownlands, you are a Waters
>>
that's right, yet another Westeros Quest. Don't expect frequent updates, I'm only planning on doing one or two a day.

this quest is based on the books, not the show, so throw any show lore out of your head for this.
>>
>>5493637
> He serves House Baratheon in the Stormlands, you are a Storm
>>
>>5493637
>He serves House Tyrell in the Reach, you are a Flowers
Game of thrones quest. LESGOOOO.
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>>5493637
>He serves House Stark in the North, you are a Snow
Swamp lad from the throat.
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>>5493637
>He serves House Tyrell in the Reach, you are a Flowers
I am not too familiar with Westeros but I'm intrigued. Let's play.
>>
A map of Westeros
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>>5493637
> He serves House Stark in the North, you are a Snow
>>
>>5493637
> He serves House Arryn in the Vale, you are a Stone
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>>5493637
>> He serves House Tyrell in the Reach, you are a Flowers
>>
>>5493637
> He serves House Tyrell in the Reach, you are a Flowers
>>
The Reach it is!

>>5493684
>>5493676
>>5493654
>>5493649
>>
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Your father is Lord Garlan of House Clover of Rose Hall.

In the times of the Kings of the Reach, when the Gardeners ruled from High Garden, the Clovers were known as the Wardens of the Roseroad, protecting it from their ancestral home of Rose Hall in the foothills of the Red Mountains. The ancient Clovers kept the peace from brigands and Dornish raiders, with many a knightly bannerman to call to arms.

But those days are long passed, burned away by dragonfire, your house humbled and lucky to escape the same fate as their overlords, your ancestral swords melted into the slag that formed the Iron Throne.

House Clover now swore to House Tyrell, ruled by young Lord Leo, called the Longthorn. A knightly young man, his court in High Garden rings with the cries of joyful spectators as young men joust for ladies favours or brawl in the meelee for honour and reward. A court of chivalry, a whirling festival of minstrel song and maiden's delights.

A far cry from the hard land you called your home, the humble castle upon a hill south of the River Mander, watchful still for Dornish raiders come down from the mountains or brigands haunting the roads, a duty still held though its glory had long faded.

Yes, your father was a lord, if a humble one.

Your mother however,

>was a peasant girl, working in your father’s kitchens
>was a Dornish woman, a refugee in your father’s lands
>was a Summer Islander, an adventurer traveling through Westeros
>was an Ironborn woman, captured in battle
>was a slave from Far Yi Ti, rescued from pirates
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>>5493749
>>was a Dornish woman, a refugee in your father’s lands
>>
>>5493749
>was a peasant girl, working in your father’s kitchens
>>
(I had different possible origins for the mother to choose from depending on which starting area you picked, like a Wildling in the North or a Lyseni courtesan in the Crownlands)
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>>5493749
>>was a peasant girl, working in your father’s kitchens
>>
>>5493749
>was a Summer Islander, an adventurer traveling through Westeros
>>
>>5493749
>was a peasant girl, working in your father’s kitchens
>>
>>5493749
>was a Dornish woman, a refugee in your father’s lands
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>>5493749
If the current votes don't change then count me in for Dornish refugee. Peasant girl is too boring imo.
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>>5493749
>>was a Dornish woman, a refugee in your father’s lands
>>
>>5493789
>>5493781
>>5493777
>>5493756
Dornish it is
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>>5493781
Dornish is always overrated IMO
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>>5493830
Hey I wanted a summer island adventurer but nobody voted for that except for me.
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>>5493832
Unfortunately I just missed the vote and while I get why the peasant woman would have been boring I would have personally chosen it.
>>
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They had come down from the Red Mountains, not raiders but a band of starving peasants. The soldiers of House Clover were prepared to turn them away with steel, none more than your father's uncle Ser Normund, a veteran of the Young Dragon's war with no love for the Dornish. Your father had been new to his lordship, it was a decisive moment. He had a choice to make.

He chose mercy. The storehouse was opened, food and water given to the hungry, parched dark faces filthy with mountain dust. Among them he had seen her, Dalia. She had caught your father's eye when she had stood her ground against your grand uncle's bared steel, and caught his interest when she had distributed the bread and wine before taking any herself.

Lord Garlan had yet to marry, and in the next few months near ended his planned betrothal to the Lady Redlark.

But of your mother you only had stories, her dark hair, and an olive toned skin that darkened to a deep brown under the heat of the sun.

She had survived a fraught adventure across Dorne's burning sands and the perils of the Red Mountains, bringing her people through mortal danger to safety, only to meet her end in the birthing bed. Lord Garlan had buried her among the roses, the resting place of the lord and ladies of the Rose Hall.

Until his young bride had come down from the Stormlands. The Redlarks were a knightly house of the Dornish Marches, fighting in the vanguard of the Young Dragon's army. Marisa Redlark's own father had been killed by Dornish treachery, cut down under a banner of peace by the Young Dragon's side when she had still been at her milk mother's breast.

Your mother's bones had been dug up and dispersed into the hills under the scornful eye of the now Lady Clover, four and ten and full of envy.

It was a scornful eye you'd find hunting for you from time to time. Perhaps if you had been less your mother's son, or lacked your father's clear grey eyes...

You are Edric Flowers, half-blooded and bastard born.

Your father had done what he could to protect you.

>you were apprenticed to the kennelmaster, Lyle, where you'd be out of view among the hounds. He is a kind and well meaning man, a second father to you
>you were given to the brutal master-at-arms, Ser Hobb, to train. He is a harsh, cruel man, but knows his business
>you were given to Maester Wilard, an absent minded guardian who had little time for you, but gave you access to his library
>you were given to the steward, Qarl, a favourite of Lady Marisa, he keeps you close to your father but leaves you open to her spite
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>>5493867
>you were given to the brutal master-at-arms, Ser Hobb, to train. He is a harsh, cruel man, but knows his business

Best to be prepared.
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>>5493867
>you were given to the brutal master-at-arms, Ser Hobb, to train. He is a harsh, cruel man, but knows his business
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>>5493867
>you were given to the brutal master-at-arms, Ser Hobb, to train. He is a harsh, cruel man, but knows his business

Sounds like we were the subject of envious cruelty, I wonder what dad's like.
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>>5493867
>>you were apprenticed to the kennelmaster, Lyle, where you'd be out of view among the hounds. He is a kind and well meaning man, a second father to you
>>
>>5493867
>you were given to the brutal master-at-arms, Ser Hobb, to train. He is a harsh, cruel man, but knows his business
>>
>>5493867
>you were given to the brutal master-at-arms, Ser Hobb, to train. He is a harsh, cruel man, but knows his business
>>
>>5493832
(there are different results from each pick. for instance the summer islander would have abandoned Edric to keep wandering the world, while the yi ti mother would have still been alive with a place in lord garlan's household as an apothecary)

(I may have both overthought and undersold the different backstory picks)
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>>5493937
>>5493932
>>5493878
>>5493875
>>5493872
given to the care of Ser Hobb it is
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>>5493939
I think the benefit of Erick being discriminated against for his Dornish heritage is gift enough to justify the option. Nothing like youthful hardship to prepare a young man to thrive in Westeros.

If only we could have named him Sue...
>>
It was the 187th year after the Conquest. Daeron, second of his name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, called 'the Good', reigns from King's Landing.

And you staredown the cleft lip snarl of your father's master-at-arms, Ser Hobb.

"Keep your shield up, Sand," he said. You knew it would be a bad day when he called you 'Sand' instead of Flowers. It meant his mood, always foul, was fouler still. He gurned at you, the split in his lip showing a slash of white tooth and wet pink gum.

The shield was heavy, the armour was too. Not knightly armour but a mail hauberk a common soldier might wear, with a heavy simple helm with only a nasal bar to protect your face. The shield was oak shod with iron. No great weight for a man grown, but a challenge for a boy only three and ten. In your other hand you gripped blunt steel.

"Your father wasn't the only one to fuck your mother, Sand," Ser Hobb said, the sword in his hand swishing at his side, "Half the barracks had her. Hell, I milked my poppy all over her dusky tits."

You didn't believe it. It was meant to madden you. It was working.

"Shield up, Sand!" he spat.

The training yard was a patch of hard barren earth in the inner bailley of Rose Hall. It was the start of summer, a mild spring and even milder winter passed, and it was hot enough now to bake your skin dark and send sweat crawling beneath the collar of your hauberk, raising an itch between your shoulder blades. Ser Hobb's own pink cheeks glistened from the heat.

He was no great knight, Ser Hobb. He had been a hedge knight before wandering into the foothills of the Reach, and was armoured little better than his 'squire'. He looked a lumpy mound of a man in his mail shirt and helmet. But he was a fighter.

The drone of flies swarming the midden could be heard across the yard.

He lunged, sword flicking out faster than such a lumpy man seemed capable of.

You brought your shield up quick as you culd but his blunt sword skipped over its iron edge to rap the side of your helm, steel on steel ringing a bell through your skull. If that was it, it would have been a lesson learned, but that was never just it. He followed it with a kick to the flat of your shield, slamming the heavy oak back against you and knocking you down onto the hard earth hard enough pain shot up your backside.

He looked down at you with an ugly grin.

"Get up, Sand," he ordered. When you tried though he kicked your legs out from under you. "Up, up! By the Gods you love lying on your back more than your whore mother!" A kick to your chest kept you down again, the heavy shield a weighty anchor pulling you to the earth.

Tears of rage and frustration boiled in your eyes.

"Come on, get on your feet," he said, "If I was one of your demon spawned kin I'd do worse than kick you. They fuck boys in Dorne, don't they? Better for sheathing swords in than using them I heard. Aye, bet you'd be a squealer. You'd be your mother's son then."
>>
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You flung the dragging weight of the shield up at the master-at-arms, earning the moment to roll away from his next placed kick.

"Stupid bastard," Ser Hobb said, but now at least he was forced to follow you, and you had your feet. As victories went it was a small one, but it made you grin, even with tears still in your eyes.

He'd give you a beating now, you were sure of it. There was n mistaking the black fury in his eyes. He might not have taught you much, but Ser Hobb had taught you how to take a beating. You had your sword up before you, both hands on the hilt.

"Ser," a voice cut through the heat. Above you on the castle steps your lord father looked down, frowning. He wasn't alone. Ser Lincoln, his goodbrother, and your half-sister and half-brother, were with him, as was the steward, Qarl. Ser Hobb looked from your father to you. "What manner of lesson is this?"

They dressed in all their noble finery, your father and true born siblings in the blue and grey of House Clover, Ser Lincoln in the colours of House Redlark. Housed away for lunch out from under the sweat raising glare of the sun.

You don't know how much your lord father had seen, but his grey eyes were heavy with worry.

"A soldier's lesson, my lord," Ser Hobb said.

"Must these lessons be so...brutal?" Lord Garlan asked.

Ser Hobb flicked his glare to you to say 'moan to your father and there'll be worse to come'.

"It's a brutal life, soldiering. There's no room for mercies, even for tender aged boys. But we can stop if the boy's had enough," Ser Hobb said. 'Have you had enough?' his squint asked.

>put up your sword and accept the offered escape
>tighten your grip, you wouldn't run away
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>>5493990
>tighten your grip, you wouldn't run away
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>>5493990
>>tighten your grip, you wouldn't run away
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>>5493990
>tighten your grip, you wouldn't run away
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>>5493990
A question, how many brothers/sisters we have? How old are they?
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>>5493999
four true born siblings, two brothers and two sisters, all younger than Edric.
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>>5494001
How old is Edric, his dad, stepmom etc?
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>>5494003
>No great weight for a man grown, but a challenge for a boy only three and ten.
Hmm...
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>>5493990
>>tighten your grip, you wouldn't run away
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>>5493990
>tighten your grip, you wouldn't run away

Thoughts on trying to make him pay anons?
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>>5494017
My long-term plan is getting the brothers killed, legitimizing Edric, then making everyone who mistreated him pay
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>>5494023
Sounds fun, I find it bit par the course but let's go with it.
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>>5494023
>the brothers killed
Really channeling Blackfyre and Bittersteel are we?
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>>5494027
We have to be smarter, bide our time, make the deaths look natural, we had nothing to do with it
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>>5494030
Can we not pursue a friendly relationship with our family? Make a fortune another way rather than putting them beneath the earth? Maybe even aim for the Kingsguard?
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>>5494033
I'm tired of every bastard being a well behaved Jon Snow expy. Let's be an actual bastard for once
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>>5494033
Personally I think this bastard is frontloaded with a little too much pain for such a relationship, his stepmother scattered his mothers bones in the hills out of bitterness and handed us off to apparently the cruelest man at arms on hand, unless the siblings show some major love which I feel won't happen I can't see an amicable relationship on the table.

I do however see a lot of bitterness ahead even if we're not actively vindictive or ambitious.
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>>5494017
>>5494010
>>5493998
>>5493995
>>5493992
pretty unanimous decision there
>>
You'd walk the seven hells before giving Ser Hobb the satisfaction of backing down. Your knuckles tightened white on the hilt of your training sword. Above you your father frowned, beside him your sister Alyssa smirked, a bright gleam in her pale grey eyes. Your true born brother, Gareth, tugged the sleeve of your father's doublet to get his attention.

"I'm ready for the lesson, ser," you said, voice tight with the anticipation of pain.

Ser Hobb flicked his tongue through the gap in his top lip, looking to your father, robbed of his confidence by the disapproving stare of his liege lord.

"Let's see this then," Ser Lincoln said, taking a seat upon a battlement with a leg across his lap, a jaunty smile on his face.

Ser Hobb squared on you, sweating and huffing, puffing as if you'd humiliated him in some way.

'I won't run away,' you thought, 'not ever'.

Then he came for you, and you raised your sword a slender blunt shield against the fury of his packed muscle.
>>
Pain found you before your eyes opened. When they did they did so to a cool dark room. Sun was setting outside, the cool night air stirring, bringing with it the smell of the roses from the barrow mounds beyond the walls. You must be high up, in the main tower. You closed your eyes again with a groan, rolled on your side and regretted it.

It hurt when you lay still. It really hurt when you moved. You tried to piece together the memory of Ser Hobb's assault. A flash of blunt still, his pink face sweating and puffing, the crash against your helmet as the world tilted on a new axis. After that there was dust and dirt then after that not much else.

The snort of a snotty nose opened your eyes again. Bael and Baela, the twins, stared at you from the foot of the cot you lay on. Their sixth nameday had passed without teaching them the use of manners. Baela whispered in Bael's ear. He snorted back again, clogged nostrils flaring, then looked at you.

"Are you dead?" he asked.

"That depends," you said, "Is this one of the seven hells?"

He snorted back more snot. "No, it's Maester Wilard's study," he said. Even for six his wits weren't keen. "Alyssa said Ser Hog killed you."

"Gareth said he'd killed him," Baela sad to her twin, "Alyssa said he was alive but could mayhap die." Then she looked at you, blushed and quitened, embarassed to have spoken louder than a whisper.

"Well I'm not dead," you said. Then you frowned. Mayhap you could still die. If they'd brought you to Maester Wilard Sir Hobb's beating must have been a sound one. You raised your arms. Even with a shot of pain through your side they moved easily enough. You flexed your toes and fingers. It was when you tried to get up you were gripped by a wave of nausea, and looked for the chamber pot.

Breakfast splattered in the pot and you lay back down.

Bael's face paled in shock. "Dying!" he said.

"Don't die Edric!" Baela said, forgetting herself.

You worried for a second you might be dying.

"He's not dying," a new voice said, sulky and annoyed. Alyssa appeared in the doorway, your sister and eldest of your father's true born children. "Now get away from him and go. Mother wants you both washed for supper."

They scampered out around her, leaving just the two of you in the dark.

Alyssa was a freckle faced dark haired girl of twelve with her mother's broad face and matching half smirk.

"Unfortunately," she said, just for you. "Did you think you were proving something back there? You know father only cares about you because he feels guilty."

You tried to sit up. She crossed the room to your bed and pushed you back down. Your bruises throbbed and you grit your teeth. You tried to sit up and she pushed you down again. She practically sat on you, holding you down, your body so weak you were all but helpless against her. She smirked. It was rare for her to have the advantage on you like this.
>>
Normally she would sick one of the boys who fawned over her to try to beat you up, the sons of her father's knights or the boys who worked the bakery. She'd watch the fights with the same satisfied, excited smirk as she did right now. Her finger found a particularly raw spot and she kneaded her fingertip in deep until you squirmed, not giving her the satisfaction of crying out in pain.

"Father's planning on sending you away," she said before releasing the pressure on your bruise. "He's going to pack you off to marry an ugly girl in the Shield Islands. You'll spend the rest of your life fighting Ironborn raiders and guarding sheep. How do you like the sound of that?"
'Better than the sight of your ugly freckled face' you wanted to say, but your thoughts weren't coming together the way they should have. Instead the nausea came on again and you vomited up bile into the bedpan. Alyssa backed away from the bed.

"I'll...I'll get Maester Wilard," she said as you settled back with a fuzzy head, eyes clenched shut.

You must have slept because you don't remember her leaving or Maester Wilard arriving, but you looked up into the youthful face of the maester as he pulled back your eyelids, humming to himself.

"Awake? Good, they don't always wake up again," he said.

He'd been at dinner, there was a wine stain on his sleeve. His maester's chain, twinned with silver, black, and gold, clattered against his chest. You'd always thought he looked too young to be a maester, younger than your father who was reckoned 'not old'.

"You were unconcious for a while," he said, "My apologies for not being here when you first woke, we had a raven. You lost your stomach?" You nodded. "Not necessarily a sign of anything dire. Your skull is still in one piece, your brain however may be bruised. There are interesting techniques I read in a Yunkish treaties involing the relief of pressure on the brain by drilling a hole through...but you don't need to worry about that. Take some rest, you should be fine in the morning."

"My father?" you said, words a little clumsy.

"Yes, he carried you here himself," he said, "Quite a commotion. All fret and fuss! Boys getting a bit rough playing 'come into my castle' I take it."

Sending you away. Was he sending you away? Or was it another one of Alyssa's cruel little lies. You wanted to talk to him, even though you never talked to him. A few words and encouraging smiles, but never...you hadn't even known he was truly your father until you were the same age as the twins. You swallowed a hard lump.

Maybe he should send you away. What was there here but the scorn of his real family and the ugly looks your Dornish skin brought you. Sir Hobb had less taught you how to be a soldier and more how to be a tiltyard dummy. What was there here for a bastard?
>>
"Here, a sip of this will help," Maester Wilard said, "A little milk of the poppy to ease your pains. Not much now, that's it. It'll help you sleep. There's a lad. There's a lad." He brushed your hair the way you imagined a father would. "Get some sleep. It'll all be right in the morning."

You tried to ask him to stay but your eyes were heavy and your words were weak, tumbling nonsense.

Then soon enough, you slept.
>>
(I'll be back tomorrow or later for the next vote update)
>>
hope you guys are enjoying this so far
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>>5494121
I'm enjoying it, don't make the MC a pussy white knight tho
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>>5494121
Going to be interesting things going forward, your setup is intriguing and characters interesting, my only feedback is potentially condensing the posts but that might just be me.
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>>5494121
I like it but edric needs to make them pay
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>>5494035
Its the dornish in us
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>>5494121
Looking real interesting so far. I like the twins lol, kids are always funny at that age.
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>>5494121
I'm liking it. Wondering how the rest of the siblings are like. Alyssa seems weird. She likes bullying us but backed down as soon as we puked. How old is she anyways. If I had to guess I'd say 11-14 range
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>>5494121
pretty cool

>>5494023
maybe, not sure if i prefer to go to the shields islands or go away on our own first, when we become a young man.
Killing iron man doesn't sound bad, actual combat and martial experience. Maybe some prestige. It does sound limiting at first, but we aren't forced to remain there forever.
We have too many enemies here and little respect, so i can't see remaining at home without doing something important/relevant.... in regard to our vengeance, it would have to wait unless we want to try our hand at a very young age.
In our childhood and teenage years, we could double down with Hobb brutality (challenging in combat the pretendents of our half sister and beating them one after another ? just for make them see we are better than them), while talking with Maester Wilard and getting some lessons from him. He hasn't scorn us at all, so that's good.

>>5494033
I am interested in what is our relation with our father, because i doubt our boy likes that his mother bones have been throw away.
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>>5494121
it's a banger. hope you don't pussy out : )
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>>5494227
I'd say her mother is encouraging the asshole behavior but that her heart isn't really in it.
>>
>>5493946

MY NAME IS SUE, HOW DO YOU DO?

>>5494121

I am very much enjoying this. I've been mulling over doing an ASOIAF quest myself and the Blackfyre Rebellion was always the most interesting conflict to me.
>>
Really looking forward to this. And yeah getting sent off before our stepmother kills us. Also, looks like some of our siblings actually like, although Alyssa seem to enjoy bullying and teasing us. Wonder if she enjoy watching us get beaten up or beating other people up or both
>>
If we really are going to the Shield Islands, we will maybe get a choice of which of the four houses we go to. Unforutantly or maybe fortunatly for QM. There is like no information about them during this time period. Closes there is, is House Grimm supported the Blacks in the Dance
>>
"It was beyond inappropriate."

Your father wasn't one to shout, and he didn't shout now, but there was iron in his voice that acted much the same. You froze where you were, his voice coming down the turn of the staircase above. You'd only just found strength to leave Maester Wilard's study, in the cool pre-dawn, and was surprised to find your father not only awake, but arguing on the stairs.

"Ser Hobb has gone too far this time."

"Mayhap he could have pulled his blows, but the boy is in one piece. Maester Wilard says there's little real damage."

A proud sweet voice to counter your father's none the less filled you with a dreadful numbness. Lady Marisa.

"There's no call to dismiss the man, not when we're so short on household knights."

"That up jumped hege knight..."

"Came with the vouch of Lord Tarly and Lord Cuy. And he's a good teacher. Gareth is already showing great strides-"

"He beat my son Marisa," your father snapped, "Right before my eyes."

"You said yourself the boy had the chance to walk away." They talked as they walked and their vouches rounded the corner before they did. You stood half frozen in the doorway of the maester's study. When they saw you they slowed to an awkward stop.

Your father was dressed for the day in a green doublet and dark hose, his face washed and cleanly shaved. The mother of your siblings was still half dressed for bed. With dawn not yet risen, she had thrown a shawl around her shoulders, otherwise still wearing a loose white bed gown. When your father saw you standing there was marked relief on his face.

When Lady Marisa saw you there was a darted furrow to her brown that eased into her familiar half-smirk.

"See? No great damage done," she said.

Sight of her made anger and fear clench your belly, but another strange excitement grasped you. Since the last year your body had begun to go through changes, and you'd begun to notice things about the women of the keep, including her.

None could deny she was beautiful. She was counted the most beautul of noble women in the foot hills. At seven and twenty, with pale white skin and soft full lips and dark brown tresses that wreathed her shoulders to spill down an inviting neckline, there was certainly no point denying it. To your shame you had awoken more than once from strange dreams of her, hand clasping a sticky mess, or forced in shame to relieve pubescent tensions into your chamber pot. Nothing you'd dare admit, not to anyone.

But still you hated her, as she nakedly hated you. The word 'naked' brought to attention the thin fabric of her sleeping gown, and you had to avert your eyes.

It was said puberty came early to the Dornish. It certainly had you in its grip.

"Edric," your father said, "Are you well?"
>>
"Yes m'lord," you muttered. Addressing him as anything else would only earn him more emnity from the watching Lady Marisa. Your head still throbbed some and your bruises hurt, but nothing to keep you off your feet.

'Are you sending me away?' you wanted to ask, 'To the Shield Islands, the way Alyssa said?'

But you kept your tongue behind your teeth. Your father smiled.

"You needn't worry about training with Sir Hobb today," he said, "Take it to recover, your training can resume tomorrow."

"Thank you m'lord," you muttered, feeling your aches and rubbing your head.

Then your father did something rare. He gripped your shoulder, and gave it a warm squeeze. But he had nothing else to say, his smile growing awkward.

"I needs see Maester Wilard about a raven," he said, continuing on.

The Lady of Rose Hall tarried on the steps a moment, eyes upon you. No smirks or smiles or pretences of concern. She glared at you.

"Careful how you go, Flowers," she said, then turned back up the stairs for bed.

You swallowed, the unpleasant mixture of fear, hate, and pubescent confusion throbbing inside you as you watched her go. But when she was gone you eased a little.

A day for yourself was a rare thing.

>spend it with friends exploring the barrow mounds outside the castle
>spend it going over a few favourite books, the chronicles of Lomas Longstrider
>spend it training in arms, no day must be wasted
>>
>>5494741
>spend it training in arms, no day must be wasted
>>
(okay already catching some really egregious typos. going to need to proof read better in the future)
>>
>>5494741
>spend it going over a few favourite books, the chronicles of Lomas Longstrider

Might be a good idea to give the body some rest
>>
>>5494741
So Edric has friends? Could he invite one of them to hang out with him while does this?
>spend it training in arms, no day must be wasted
I want to see him deal with all those emotions and hormones with some practice in arms but I'd also like to see a friend character.
>>
>>5494741
>spend it going over a few favourite books, the chronicles of Lomas Longstrider

>Edric is horny for his hateful stepmother
Ahhh, GoT just like I remember it
>>
>>5494756
Not his fault she is hot and he want to plant a few seeds in her
>>
>>5494741
spend it going over a few favourite books, the chronicles of Lomas Longstrider
>>5494744
Take your time and don't feel rushed to get out an update as soon as you can. Most of us aren't going anywhere, at least not long term. Otherwise you're doing good man, keep it up.
>>
>>5494758
I'm not blaming Edric, I'm crediting Munkun for following in the footsteps of GRRM
>>
>>5494741
>spend it training in arms, no day must be wasted

Gotta improve
>>
>>5494756
Can't help it, I reckon. I remember getting erections for no reason when I was a teenager so I'd say it's just the hormones, not like he sees her like a mother anyway.

>>5494752
A good idea? Yes. Unfulfilling to a young lad feeling impotently powerless? Also yes.
>>
>>5494741
>>spend it going over a few favourite books, the chronicles of Lomas Longstrider
>>
>>5494741
Changing >>5494756 to
>spend it training in arms, no day must be wasted
If Edric is gonna make it, it'll be because he's strong
>>
>>5494741
>spend it training in arms, no day must be wasted
>>
>>5494741
>>spend it training in arms, no day must be wasted
>>
>>5494741
>spend it going over a few favourite books, the chronicles of Lomas Longstrider
>>
>>5494741
>>spend it training in arms, no day must be wasted
I hope our boy puts a bastard in his stepmother, in due time of course
>>
>>5494741
>>spend it with friends exploring the barrow mounds outside the castle

Books are FOR NERDS
>>
>>5494741
>>spend it with friends exploring the barrow mounds outside the castle
>>
>>5494741
>>spend it with friends exploring the barrow mounds outside the castle
>>
training in arms

>>5494771
>>5494775
>>5494780
>>5494790
>>5494763
>>5494755
>>5494743

books!
>>5494752
>>5494767
>>5494782

barrow mounds
>>5494810
>>5494818
>>5494793

training wins

all work and no play for Edric Flowers
>>
>>5494826
Could or will you answer my question in >>5494755? Seeing a back and forth between Edric and a friend would be nice.
>>
>>5494831
Edric has some common born friends, though none particularly close. He'd have more and closer ones if he went exploring and playing in his free time instead of training.
>>
>>5494833
So it's more like a lifestyle choice then? My mistake.
>>
A free day was a rare thing, but a bastard couldn't afford a day of rest.

You went to your chambers, a small room with a cot and drawers, changed into a fresh pair of hose and a doublet, then went down to the training yard.

Dawn was up by the time you made it there, the air sweet with the smell of roses coming down from the barrow mounds. It promised to be a cooler day than yesterday, with fat clouds on the horizon promising afternoon rain. The tennant farmers who served Rose Hall would be glad for it.

None of your father's men-at-arms were up yet. You had the armoury to yourself.

Swords, spears, axes and maces, old worn shields and lances with drooping pennants in the colours of House Clover. Armour for men and some for horses. All well kept. You walked among the martial stock of House Clover, breathing in the scent of linseed oil and polish. Ser Hobb had you spend as much time caring for the armoury as training at arms, a task the men-at-arms were happy to offload on you. You weren't officially his squire, but did most the things a squire would.

Your fingers traced the hilt of a longsword. Which of your ancestor now buried among the roses carried this weapon into battle? You picked it up in both hands, preferring its weight in both than fighting with sword in one hand and shield in the other. You smiled through the bruises, gave it a practised swish.

You turned and nearly slashed the face of Ser Lincoln, hanging in the armoury door.

"Ho! Easy there, hotspur," he said.

He smiled and you backed away. Ser Lincoln Redlark was Lady Marisa's younger brother, though they didn't share much in common save a natural smirk. His hair was light brown and worn to his shoulders. He wore a red tuniic trimmed in white, and neither great in build or particularly slight, he was still taller than was common all the same. He kept a sword at his hip and a dirk in his belt. He was an uncommon sight in Rose Hall, having visited just once before on Gareth's sixth nameday.

"So you're the bastard that has my sister dripping venom," he said so casually, with no venom of his own, "I watched your beating yesterday. I was impressed."

You frowned.

"It's easy enough to teach a boy to give a beating, but to take one without flinching? I know grown men who haven't mastered that lesson."

A strange sort of praise, and one you didn't trust from a Redlark.

"It's a fool who spurns a bastard," he said, "All they do is train their own enemy. Take 'Good' King Daeron and how he treats his brother Daemon. There's seeds planted there that won't bear good fruit."

"The Blackfyre?" you said.

Every bastard knew the name Blackfyre.

"Ah yes, Ser Daemon the Blackfyre Prince," Ser Lincoln said, "I was there you know, when King Aegon gave him the sword."

"You know the Blackfyre?" you said, more excited than you should be.
>>
>>5494826
Training is fun, although I'd dig seeing what's inside some of those Barrow Mounds, Westeros has some insanely long lineages that don't tend to move, especially because this area has been super inhabited even for Westerosi standards.
Also, I'd love to become a hedge Knight, maybe taking the name "The Green Knight" or "Greenhand" perhaps "The Thistle" presumably something Plant themed. I've been waiting forever for a Martial focused Game Of Thrones character, it should be a great deal of fun.
>>
Ser Lincoln laughed. "I didn't say that," he said, "They say he's mastered every weapon known to man. At twelve years old he certainly fought like no boy I'd ever seen. I haven't seen him since. Who knows where his skill lies now."

He looked you over. "You mean to train?"

You nodded.

"Care if I join you? I could use the practice with the tourney approaching," he said.

You didn't know what he could learn training with a boy your age, nor did you trust him. Pleasant as he as being, he was still kin to Lady Marisa.

>train with Ser Lincoln
>rebuff his request
>>
>>5494790
>I hope our boy puts a bastard in his stepmother, in due time of course
Dad/bros need to go
Stepmom needs to become Edric's personal cock sleeve and raise multiple quarter dornish bastards as her punishment
>>
>>5494854
>train with Ser Lincoln
This guy seems at least mildly important. Could be useful to get to know him, lingering enmity aside
>>
>>5494854
>train with Ser Lincoln

I wonder if Edric can reach even a fraction of martial skill Daemon has, that guy had the talent and the best trainers, though.
>>
>>5494854
>train with Ser Lincoln
>>
>>5494854
>train with Ser Lincoln
Yeah he's kin to Marisa but what shit could he pull to fuck us over in training? Shit that we haven't learned from ser Hobb anyway.
>>
>>5494854
>>train with Ser Lincoln
He doesn't come off as a prick, he's probably pretty cool.
>>
>>5494854
>>train with Ser Lincoln
>>
>>5494854
>train with Ser Lincoln
>>
>>5494854
>>train with Ser Lincoln
Act like a good bastard for now
You can kill him later
>>
>>5494835
I could have made that more clear
>>
>>5494854
>train with Ser Lincoln
Let's give it a shot, maybe he won't kill us because of our Tsun Step Sister (at last that's what I'm betting she is)
Also, the Blackfyre talk suddenly makes me want to seek him out and sign up with him during the First Blackfyre rebellion, it won't go well but at least we could have some fun during it.
>>
>>5494890
Edric will have a real pickle on his hands when the rebellion comes. His Dornish blood should incline him to the Targaryen side, while his bastardry should pull him towards the Blackfyre side. Assuming he can potentially change history, we'll have to see how things play out...
>>
>>5494854
>train with Ser Lincoln
Seems like an okay guy
>>
>>5494895
Let's just become BFFs with Bloodraven for both bastard supremacy and to be on the winning side
>>
>>5494854
>>train with Ser Lincoln
>>
>>5494855
>Stepmom needs to become Edric's personal cock sleeve

Jerk off before playing a quest instead of channeling whatever doujjin is your fetish is.

>>5494854
>train with Ser Lincoln
>>
pretty unanimous again

let's train with Ser Lincoln!
>>
>>5494993
>Jerk off before playing a quest instead of channeling whatever doujjin is your fetish is.
Quit being a white knight bitchboy
>>
>>5495028
Nice assumption just remember to jerk off
>>
>>5495053
Remember to chug gallons of estrogen
>>
>>5494993
Edric has wet dreams and masturbates about his stepmom. Impregnating her with dornish bastards is the best end
>>
>>5495085
I would rather hope for more from Edric's life than coomer fantasies.
>>
>>5495099
Any other ending will be a disappointment
>>
>>5495108
>For you
>>
>>5494854
>>train with Ser Lincoln
we could have used some friends
>>
Ser Lincoln led the way back out to the training yard, the same spot where Ser Hobb beat you senseless. He took up a pair of blunt trainers, threw one to you then flourished you a salute. He was more elegant with a blade than Ser Hog at least. You returned the salute as you pulled on a helmet. Ser Lincoln smiled much like his sister, but without the malice.

He allowed you to start the exchange. His sword was quick but without the drumming, brutal force of your instructor. You didn't manage to catch him, but when he returned a blow you caught it on your edge without your joints crying from the force of his attack. It was almost polite, the way he fought, though not what anyone would call gentle. More play than fight, or dance even, though more exerting in a way, with your exchange of deep lunges and side steps, boots kicking up dust beneath your feet. You gave a grunt of effort that almost became a laugh as he parried your thrust.

It was sword fighting the way it was written about in books, not the avenue for abuse you had become accustomed to.

Twice you nearly tagged him in an exchange, then after another flurry you scored a touch on his inner arm.

Then Ser Lincoln stepped around your cut, caught your elbow, and with a push and a well placed leg threw you down to the ground. It was a move you'd not expected, and left you coughing on your back, dust in your mouth. A shock of shame for being so easily manhandled shot through you.

"You move well for an untested boy," he said, "You train often?"

He offered you a hand.

"When I can," you said, hesitant to take his hand, but taking it all the same. He pulled you to your feet.

"Alone, mostly?" he said, "Do you have sparring partners other than Ser Hobb?"

"My brother Gareth," you said.

"A boy of ten is not much of an opponent," he said. And truthfully Gareth wasn't much for swords, preferring the company of books and a plate of peach tarts to the ring of steel and the feel of sweat on his brow.

"Some of the men-at-arms," you said, though not often. You'd always wanted a sparring partner. A friend or rival to test yourself against. But all you had was the brutal Ser Hobb, who your siblings called Ser Hog, and fighting him was no test but an exercise in being dominated, if not by his sword craft than by his superior strength of arm.

"You've raw talent, Edric," he said, "Very raw. A good teacher could make something of it though."

An uncomfortable hardness lodged in your throat, and you felt a need to be away from Ser Lincoln. You waited for the insult to drop or the jest to reveal itself, anger rising by reflex inside you. All the knight did was put up his sword and step back into the shade with a smile.

"My father is sending me away," you said, "To the Shield Islands. Mayhap I'll find a good teacher there."
>>
>>5495099
His story is revenge
Everyone that wronged him must pay
Being forced to raise dornish bastards is objetively the best punishment for stepmom
>>
"Is he?" Ser Lincoln said, eyes raised in genuine surprise, "He said nothing about that to me when I asked about taking you on as a squire. I'll need one for the tourney in Highgarden, then the next in King's Landing. It's a busy season."

"Excuse me ser?" you said, not understanding what he'd just said.

"Ah, I suppose I'll need to talk to old Garlan and my sweet sister at lunch about it again. The Shield Islands, really. They may as well send you to the Wall!" he put aside his sword, clapping the dust off his legs. Lunch? Highgarden? But you hadn't realized just how long you'd been training until you put up your own sword, your arms jelly under a high sun nearing noon.

Training with Ser Lincoln had been different than any training in the past. It had been...fun.

He winked at you as he went back to the castle keep, leaving you to clean up the training yard. That at least was no different than ever.

A squire to a knight, a real knight. For a moment you didn't breathe. But then you remembered, he was a Redlark. This was the beginning of a joke at your expense. And even if it wasn't, if his offer was serious, there was no chance Lady Marisa would allow it. Sometimes you thought she took a strange delight in having you near at hand, something to torment. A plaything for her malicious temper. Hope was the start of a road that lead to humiliation.

You stank of sweat. You'd not bathed the day before. You went to the water barrel, and pulling of your shirt, took up the ladle to douse yourself. A giggle caught your ear. You looked up to see feet dangling from the battlements of the bailley wall. A pair of girls looked down at you.

Genna Wills was the steward's daughter, around your age. She was fat and had grown fatter each year you'd known her, with pale spots on her cheeks. Milly was a lowborn girl, daughter of the castle cook, apple cheeked with large watery eyes. Both were Alyssa's creatures, her handmaidens who followed her around at every turn. Where ever Alyssa was you couldn't say, but the pair watched you wash while supping on fire plums, juices sticky on their chins and fingers.

Were they spying on you for their foul master? To what end?

Their giggling carried on. Genna waved down at you. You scowled, fetching the blunt swords and returning them to their rack. Pushing damp hair from your eyes you could feel the burn of their eyes on your back as you fled the training yard.

Highgarden. The Shield Islands. Married off to some girl or squired to your siblings' uncle. What of it was true, if any of it?

>find a place to be alone to think about it
>go find Maester Wilard, he'd know
>go to your father directly and demand answers
>>
(I'll be back tomorrow or later)
>>
>>5495113
You're reading a game of thrones quest. A bit hypocritical being a prude over incest
>>
>>5495121
>find a place to be alone to think about it
Time to brood alone!
>>
>>5495121
>>find a place to be alone to think about it
>>
>>5495121
>find a place to be alone to think about it
>>
>>5495121
>find a place to be alone to think about it
The best option for a 13 year old.
>>
>>5495121
>>go find Maester Wilard, he'd know
>>
>>5495121
>>go find Maester Wilard, he'd know
Let us have a talk with him. Having an opinion from a neutral party would be a good thing.

We need to find a friend or two for spars and watch our back. A good investment for the future.
>>
>>5495121
>go find Maester Wilard, he'd know
>>
>>5495121
>go find Maester Wilard, he'd know
He healed our wounds and is kinda a bro.
>>
>>5495121
>>go find Maester Wilard, he'd know
>>
>>5495121
>find a place to be alone to think about it
Perhaps the Sept
>>5494912
Being a Bloodraven Buddy does sound like fun
>>
>>5495121
>>go find Maester Wilard, he'd know
>>
>>5495121
>go find Maester Wilard, he'd know
>>
>>5495121
>>go find Maester Wilard, he'd know
>>
>>5495121
>go find Maester Wilard, he'd know
>>
>>5495121
>go find Maester Wilard, he'd know
>>
>>5495121
>go find Maester Wilard, he'd know
>>
>>5495121
>find a place to be alone to think about it
>>
>>5495121
>go find Maester Wilard, he'd know

This has been a great read Munkun, keep it up!
>>
>>5495121
>>go find Maester Wilard, he'd know
>>
>>5495121
>find a place to be alone to think about it
>>
>>5495121
>>go find Maester Wilard, he'd know
>>
>>5495121
>go find Maester Wilard, he'd know
>>
>>5495165
>Perhaps the Sept
shit I knew I forgot something

visiting Maester Wilard wins
>>
Maester Wilard would know. He was a maester of the Citadel, and they knew practically everything. And he handled your father's correspondence, he'd know if there'd been any letters to or from the Shields lately.

Drying off with a towel you went into the keep, heading up the spiral staircase to his quarters. Heading out of his room, bumping you hard in the shoulder for not looking where she was going, was Alyssa. She shoot you a black look, then clenched her teeth and placed a hand on her belly.

"Watch where you're going, bunghole," she snapped. Sweat beaded her top lip, though it wasn't that warm a day.

"Same to you," you said just as unfriendly. She looked away from you as if she might be sick. "Are you all right?"

"Hot," she mumbled. Alyssa was not typically a mumbler. "Cramped." She shook her head, then in a clearer voice snapped, "What's it to you anyway, bastard? Mind your own business." Then she swished away down the way you'd come, leaving the maester's door to you. She was right, it wasn't your business ad you didn't give a damn anyway.

Knocking before entering, you found Maester Wilard humming over a book, flicking the beads of an abacus as he totalled the sums within.

"As I said, mix it with iced wine and it should ease your menses in no time at all," he said, "If you don't believe me ask your mother, it always does the trick for her."

"Maester Wilard?" you said.

He looked up frowning, then a smile popped on his face. "Oh, Edric, sorry," he said, closing the book, "How's your head?"

"Better," you said, "I wanted to ask you a question."

"Do let me know if you see any dark spots on your vision or if your sight grows blurry," he said, "Sometimes blows to the head harm your sight. Nothing a Myrish lens can't correct, but we'd need to send away for one from...Myr I suppose, though I have a brother in the Citadel looking to produce a local version. Not the great star gazing lenses but the face-sitting sort, enough to help aged maesters continue their studies."

Not exactly what you wanted to talk about, but good to know.

It was hard to know how old Maester Wilard was. He had some grey in his hair and small lines on his face, but his eyes were bright and fervent and his excitable energy made him seem more youthful than how old he must be. You only know he was new to his chain when he had taken over for Maester Raymun in the Rose Hall, a few months after your mother had passed. Perhaps if there had been a maester present, she might have...but that was nothing to dwell on.

"I was wondering if you'd heard anything from the Shield Islands," you said, taking a direct stab at your fears.

"The Shields?" he said, almost in a panic, "Why, have you heard something? Have the Greyjoys raised their banners? The Ironborn have been quiet of late. It's the right season for them to start their trouble. Gods help us."

Maester Wilard was from Oldtown, and had an innate fear of the Ironborn.
>>
"Any correspondence from...from one of the houses there," you said, "House Grimm or..." you tried to remember the names of the other houses on the islands.

Maester Wilard shook his head. "Oh nothing like that. Some messages have come from Highgarden and King's Landing, and a few down from Horn Hill. Lord Tarly's being very bearish in this betrothal. You know there was a time the Clovers were paramount in these lands. The hills were covered in Clover, they'd say. He should be flattered. but since the Conquest however, Horn Hill has risen as the Rose Hall has wilted. It's all how it goes."

Betrothal? To a Tarly?

They were the nearest neighbours to House Clover who weren't in the Rose Hall's service, and were a powerful Marcher house besides. As much rivals as allies, when the Tarlys had called for the Blacks in the Dance, Clover had called for the Greens, and there'd been fierce skirmishes between the two. That was old history now though, and in the time of Vulture Kings or Dornish raids, whatever rivalry the two houses had would be set aside against their mutual foes.

And they had a Valyrian steel sword, something you knew rankled your great uncle Normund.

Then you though 'whose betrothal'? Lord Tarly had a young son and a young daughter.

>ask: 'does my father mean for me to marry a Tarly?'
>ask: 'what letters from Highgarden and King's Landing?'
>ask: 'what was Alyssa here about?'
>>
(sorry that post took a minute, had to deal with something over here)
>>
>>5495856
>ask: 'what letters from Highgarden and King's Landing?'
>>
>>5495856
>ask: 'what letters from Highgarden and King's Landing?
>>
>>5495856
>ask: 'what was Alyssa here about?'
>>
>>5495856
>>ask: 'what letters from Highgarden and King's Landing?'
>>
>>5495856
>ask: 'does my father mean for me to marry a Tarly?'

>>5495868
He literally just said
>"As I said, mix it with iced wine and it should ease your menses in no time at all," he said, "If you don't believe me ask your mother, it always does the trick for her."

Period pains. Probably her first one
>>
>>5495856
>ask: 'what letters from Highgarden and King's Landing?'
>>
>>5495856
>ask: 'what letters from Highgarden and King's Landing?'
>>
>>5495856
>>ask: 'what letters from Highgarden and King's Landing?'
>>
Starting to get the feeling that Alyssa was just bullshitting us with that girl from the Shield Islands
>>
>>5495856
>ask: 'what letters from Highgarden and King's Landing?'
>>
>>5495889
There might be some truth. Depends if it’s a lie, maybe she was listening father talking and didn't hear everything.
>>
>>5495873
yeah but we don't know that in character.
>>
>>5495906
>>5495873
Then, after asking him about the letters from Highgarden and King's Landing, ask him what a "menses" is.
>>
>>5495878
>>5495882
>>5495885
>>5495901
>>5495869
>>5495867
>>5495864
asking about king's landing and highgarden? all right
>>
Putting that thought aside though, the talk of Highgarden and King's Landing caught your attention.

"What letters from Highgarden?" you asked, "And what business does father have in King's Landing?"

Maester Wilard looked at you as if surprised by the questions.

"From Highgarden? Well Lord Tyrell is hosting a tourney, but that's scarcely news. A tourney in Highgarden is like snow in the North. He's sent your father an invitation however, feels Clover has been too long absent from his court. As to King's Landing, why its the realm's business. The betrothal between Prince Martell and Princess Danaerys is moving forward as a marriage. Most the lords of the realm are expected to be there, on King Daeron's assistance. It seems your father will be long traveling this year, between Highgarden and King's Landing."

Excitement stilled your breathing.

"I expect Lord Tyrell's tourney is a chnace to get some practise in before the main event," Maester Wilard said, "He's a fine jouster, but the competition will be fierce this season. Fireball alone may be his match, and Prince Daemon is said to rule the lists in the east. But I'm no expert. I can't speak for sure but your father will be expected to joust at Highgarden in the very least."

Your father Garlan Clover had no reputation as a tourney knight, a black mark on the honour of any House in the Reach, and young Lord Leo Longthorn was reckoned tourney mad even by the Reach's standards. If he was expecting to don armour and ride the lists it might explain some of his anxiety over the last few days.

"You know tourneys are a good place to meet boys your own age," Maester Wilard said, "A fine place to make friends. Before I was accepted into the Citadel my own father would take me to the tourneys. Why we'd scream and cheer from the stands as our favourites crossed lances, mouths sweet with funnel cakes. There's nothing quite like the thunder of hooves across the yard, the drop of the lance, the nerve of the men as they take one another's measure, and the final crash of the lances. To see a knight lifted from his seat to crash to the ground. Gods, what a sight!"

A better sight than the awkward efforts of yourself and Gareth in Rose Hall's tiltyard, barked at by Ser Hobb. You'd never ridden a lance against anything but the tiltdummy set up for practice, and never expected to ride in a tourney unless you could find a suit of armour for yourself capable of withstanding the awful force of a lance driven by a destrier at full gallop. Men died at tourneys, killed in the clash or in the days and weeks after from their wounds.

Which meant if father were to ride he would be risking his life, however unlikely the chances were of him being killed.

"Something to talk to your father about," he said with a wink.

You nodded, excited, but as the door you stopped. "Maester Wilard, what is a 'menses'?" you asked.

The maester frowned, then face brightened in a burst of laughter. "Away with you lad, I have sums to do."
>>
You raced down the stairs thinking you might find your father, to ask about the tourney and hope against reason he might bring you with him.

But doing so you bumped hard into someone again. Not the slight figure of your halfsister, but the heavy old oak frame of your great uncle, Ser Normund. The old man snarled down at you. Well past fifty, he had a full head of grey hair that merged with grey whiskers that flared from the side of his face. Sun dark in the face with narrow grey eyes, he considered you with the same regard as horse shit on the bottom of his boots.

There was no more fervent a hater of the Dornish in the hills than your great uncle.

"What are you running for, bastard?" he said.

"Uncle," you said, knowing it would annoy him.

But still you slowed your pace a little.

Down in the hall your father was at lunch with his family. Ser Lincoln sat with his sister, while your own sister pecked at fresh eel while her septa, Nan, kept watch behind her shoulder. The septa was a plump, proper woman with her hair careful covered in an old fashioned style. Gareth sat beside Alyssa, his face in a book. Bael and Baela were at the far end of the table, fighting a war of peas and gravy.

It was a scene you were most certainly not a part of.

"Cheer up grumpkin," Lady Marisa said to her daughter, who glowered at everything before her, "You're in a mood today."

When your father saw you his face brightened.

"Edric," he said.

You slowed to a stop not sure what to do. You were rarely welcomed at the dinner table outside the holy days. Your tongue burned with questions you feared to answer before Lady Marisa.

"Is there something you wanted?" he said, expectant, even hopeful, for your answer. Lady Marisa meanwhile reclined back in her chair, her sweet mood turning sour.

>ask: is it true you're going to Highgarden?
>ask: may I have lunch with you?
>spare any potential humiliation, make some excuse and leave.
>>
>>5496017
>ask: may I have lunch with you?
>>
>>5496017
>ask: is it true you're going to Highgarden?

Maybe there is a squire melee we can take part in if he brings us with him
>>
>>5496017
>>ask: is it true you're going to Highgarden?
>>
>>5496017
>ask: is it true you're going to Highgarden?
>>
>>5496017
>ask: is it true you're going to Highgarden?
>>
>>5496022
>>5496023
>>5496027
>>5496045
let's ask questions
>>
I just want to say its more than okay to do write-ins without having it as an option, so long as the write-in isn't an attempt to do or ask everything.
>>
"Is it true?" you asked, "Are you going to Highgarden for a tourney?"

Your lord father gave his wife an uncomfortable look.

"Maester Wilard said Lord Tyrell asked you to come," you said, "Are you going to joust, do you need...need a squire?"

This last at least provoked Lady Marisa to speak. "And what business is that of yours, Flowers?" she asked.

The heat in her voice had Gareth lower his book and Alyssa look up from her uneaten lunch.

"If Lord Clover has need of a squire he has his trueborn son to serve him."

Gareth didn't much like the sound of that.

"And you have a knight to serve already. Ser Hobb has been training you."

You blanched, fists tighening at your side. "Ser Hobb has never considered me his squire," you said.

"Perhaps its time that changed," she replied, satisfied with herself.

"Father," you said, and your stepmother's eyes flashed with wrath.

"It's true I've been called to Highgarden," he said, "And it's true Lord Leo is hosting a tourney, but I haven't yet decided if I'm to ride in it."

"Well if you won't, goodbrother, I will," Ser Lincoln said, "Some sport before the true competition in King's Landing. And if its no problem to you I'll take the boy with me. I'm lacking a squire as late."

Lady Marisa turned her wrathful glare on her brother, the unexpected support a moment of relief.

"You'll be so in your cups come the tourney you'll be unable to sit a horse," she said, "You've no squire because no lord is stupid enough to give you care of their son, Ser Lincoln Red Grapes." Ser Lincoln's smile remained fixed, though more mask like than natural.

Your father rubbed his temples. "My wife speaks true," he said, "I mean to take Gareth with me. He will be the next Lord of Rose Hall, and must need meet his liege and the other lords and future lords of the Reach."

It was Alyssa who smiled at that, and as your belly cramped you became aware now how you stood before most of your father's court, small as it was.

"Truth is I've put it off too long," he continued, "It has been too many winters since a Clover was last in Highgarden."

"See? You aren't needed," Alyssa said, "And I doubt Lord Leo would want you at his tourney anyway. Tourneys are for nobles and knights, not bastard boys."

"Allie," your father said, though too meekly to master the girl.

"Prince Daemon is a bastard!" you snapped back, "And he's the greatest knight in the land! Tell her Ser Lincoln, tell them what you told me!"

But he was more silent now, refilling his goblet with wine. Sour spit filled your mouth.

"Oh and you're a Daemon Blackfyre are you?" Alyssa said, beginning to giggle, "Hear that Gareth, the Dornish boy says he's the next Daemon Blackfyre." The look Gareth gave you both was to say 'leave me out of this'.

"I didn't say..." you said.
>>
"Arrogant boy," Lady Marisa said, "To compare yourself to a Prince of the Realm. I fear my lord husband was incorrect, Ser Hobb has been too light on you. For you to have developed such airs, it invited dishonour on our House."

You looked to Ser Lincoln for help but his face was in his goblet, drinking deep on the wine. Ser Red Grapes, his sister had called him.

"Father," you said, "My lord...if you're going to Highgarden..."

But he said nothing but looked down at his lap, ashamed at having been so brow beaten by both wife and daughter. And his silence somehow hurt far more than any mocking word from your smirking sister or her mother.

>Say: My lord, please, take me with you
>Say: To hell with you all!
>say nothing and depart
>>
>>5496200
>Say nothing and depart
There is nothing more to say.
>>
>>5496200
>say nothing and depart

TIme to take our anger out on a training dummy
>>
>>5496200
>say nothing and depart
>>
>>5496200
>say nothing and depart
>>
>>5496200
>>say nothing and depart
Plot your future revenge
>>
>>5496200
>My lord, please, take me with you
>>
>>5496200
>Say nothing and depart
Time to angrily seethe whilst beating the shit out of something, preferably a training dummy.
>>
>>5496200
>say nothing and depart
We should kill """"Lady""" Marisa one day
>>
>>5496200
>>say nothing and depart
>>
>>5496200
>say nothing and depart
>>
>>5496200
>>say nothing and depart
cope and seethe
>>
>>5496240
Killing is too easy
Forced to raise her own dornish bastards is proper justice
>>
>>5496200
>>say nothing and depart
Don't act needy or butthurt
>>
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>>5495120
>>5496262
>>
>>5496200
>>Say: My lord, please, take me with you
>>
This quest is doomed. Not surprised a new ASOIAF quest is already heading towards a rape fantasy shitfest kek
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>>5496331
A couple of coomers won't do the quest in so easily I hope
>>
>>5496264
>>5496250
>>5496248
>>5496241
>>5496240
>>5496236
>>5496219
>>5496212
>>5496209
>>5496206
>>5496203
lost track of time

time to go cope
>>
>>5496331
The quest is doomed because moralfags are trying to turn the MC into a pussy white knight
>>
>>5496382
>Not being a rapist is whiteknighting
>>
>>5496382
My guy, we have not had any choices relating to morality. What are you talking about?
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>>5496386
Anon you want to be friendly with the family that treats MC like shit, dug him his dead mom's bones and desecrated it. That's peak white knight simp behavior >>5494033
>>
>>5496386
If we go by your plan, Edric becomes friendly with his family, never has revenge, joins the kingsguard to be a literal white knight virgin, this will be a shit quest
>>
>>5496398
>>5496402
Nobody's voting to be friendly. Nobody has a simp plan. You are simply retarded.
>>
>>5496406
>literally linked the comment where anon asked to be friends with the family
You are a drooling retard
>>
>>5496406
>>5496412
You're both equally retarded.
>>
You shook in shame and anger. You bit the inside of your mouth to keep from saying anything that would make things worse, either the desperate pleading of a forgotten boy or hot words of anger that could get you beaten worse than you'd already been. You bit down so hard the copper tang of blood filled your mouth.

Alyssa's smirk, a match for her mother's, was black with malice.

As you left you spat a glob of red saliva, wiped the run off with your sleeve, and marched yourself in search of something to thump. The anger coursing through you had renewed your strength, and when you made it to the training yard practically coursed through your blood.

Picking up a steel trainer, you looked to the tiltyard dummy. It held a wooden sword and beaten up shield, a crudely carved head stuck on its padded straw body. It stood on watch next to the horse it would be mounted on for practice at the tilt.

Your anger was too hot for jousting. You started into it with a great thwack at its stupid smiling wooden head.

Fuck them. Fuck Lady Marisa. Fuck Ser Hobb. Fuck Alyssa. Fuck your spineless father and all his brood. Fuck Ser Red Grape and his promises. Dark rage hardened your strikes. A splinter of wood exploded from the side of the dummy's head.

A bastard was all you'd be to any of them. A weed of a flower in their precious rose garden.

You struck the training dummy until you'd struck its smiling head clean off. But even tired, your sword arm all but limp at your side, shoulders sore from strain, you weren't satisfied. An empty core had been carved in your belly, a hollowness the rage only partway filled. Tears burned in the corner of your eyes. Tears you scorned.

What else had you done but be born? Born on the wrong side of the mountain, having killed your mother in the process. Born to a father domineered by a spiteful bitch whom you'd done no harm but exist.

The gods were laughing, you were sure. The Maiden, the Father, the Crone, the Smith, the Warrior, even the Stranger laughed. The Mother laughed loudest. The gods who had given you nothing but gifted all around you with hate or at best indifference. The gods loved a bastard, you thought, for the sport they gave them.

Blasphemy that would have outraged the septon, but fuck him too.

You dropped the trainer not bothering to put it away. You were spent. How many hours had you spent lost in your rage? Night was coming above you, bringing the soft sound of distant thunder, but no rain. You climbed to the bailey wall, looking out over the night shrouded lands beyond the keep, the barrow mounds with their thickets of rose bushes.

It was said Garth Greenhand had planted the first rose, on the tomb of a fair maiden died too young. The roses had grown wild, overtaking the hills, so thick in some places you needed armour to wade through the thorns. Despite the legend there was no talk of House Clover being descended from the old green king. They were only custodians of the land, charged to guard the Roseroad.
>>
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>>5496382>>5496386>>5496398>>5496402>>5496406>>5496412
This is pretty funny, been a while since I've seen such shitflinging on /qst/.
>>
How many generations of Clovers were buried out there? None knew for sure. The barrows stretched to the start of dense forest that marked the Tarly border. You were only sure your mother wasn't among them, and neither would you be.

The dragons had the right idea, burning it.

Standing was more effort than you had left in you. You'd sleep under the stars. Rain was in the mountains and unlikely to find you, but a cool breeze did. But the emptiness in your gut swallowed your sleep too, and you sat in place staring at the nothing-dark of the courtyard.

Until you heard a voice.

It must have been past midnight. A light in the stables.

A girl's voice. "Did you bring it, sister?" she spoke with the authority of mystery.

"I have it," another voice said, baited with tension. Alyssa?

"Come then, let this meeting of the nightingales begin."

>whatever was going on might be worth listening in on, something to use against your sister later
>whatever was going on might be worth intruding on, spoiling her fun might be satisfying
>whatever was going on didn't concern you at all
>>
(I'll be back tomorrow or later)
>>
>>5496433
>whatever was going on might be worth listening in on, something to use against your sister later
>>
>>5496431
This is what you get when friendshipanon meets edgeanon kek.
>>
>>5496433
>>whatever was going on might be worth listening in on, something to use against your sister later
>>
>>5496433
>whatever was going on might be worth listening in on, something to use against your sister later
>>
>>5496433
>whatever was going on might be worth listening in on, something to use against your sister later
Regardless of using it against her or not, it's always nice to know about what info your enemies want hidden.

>>5496438
Indeed, talk-no-jutsu fag vs chaotic-stupid fag. Hopefully won't shit up the thread too much though, these things are good in moderation.
>>
>>5496433
>>whatever was going on might be worth listening in on, something to use against your sister later
>>
>>5496433
>whatever was going on might be worth listening in on, something to use against your sister later
>>
>>5496433
>>whatever was going on might be worth listening in on, something to use against your sister later
>>
>>5496433
>>whatever was going on might be worth listening in on, something to use against your sister later
>>
>>5496144
Something like
-Begin climbing around the castle, so you can get a distance from your foes and spit on them. Escaping the worst beatings of Sir Hobb, and growing stronger is just a plus.
or
-Call your two friends Colin and Orton, wreak some havoc and ruin your sister fun. Then flee, before her sycophants rally to her defense !

>>5496433
>whatever was going on might be worth listening in on, something to use against your sister later
>>
>>5496433

>whatever was going on might be worth listening in on, something to use against your sister later

Also add in

>Bring your training sword, just in case.
>>
>>5496433
>whatever was going on might be worth listening in on, something to use against your sister later
>>
>>5496647
Supporting
>>
People literally be manifesting random npcs I'm write ins lol.
>>
I see who's really in power in House Clover now. I gathered Lady Marisa was a bitch but I was thinking our lord father or Lincoln would stand up to her. Damn, both of them getting talked down into silence by her sucks. Makes me wonder if Lincoln was already in his cups when he found us in the armory.
>>
>>5496780
Might be worth considering stealing some equipment a horse and supplies and get the hell out before we find ourselves with a knife in our chest when we wake up one of these days
>>
>>5496764
Mine are examples on what we can make with write ins (i am asking the qm if he would be fine with something like that essentially), what i have voted is after the >. Since we are still in character creation, having friends doesn't sound like anything incredible or difficult for a kid. We had the option just a few votes before, it's really not a great difference lmao.
>>
>>5496433
>>whatever was going on might be worth listening in on, something to use against your sister later
>>
>>5496647
both are ok, though I'd prefer it if write-ins were more generally than making up full blown npcs on the spot. better to just say 'look for a couple of friendly faces to help out'.

anyway, time to spy on Edric's sweet younger sister
>>
From the castle walls you crossed over to the roof of the stables, intrigued if nothing else. Maybe she'd say something you could use against her. Any weapon, no matter how small, was valuable. You eased your way off the roof and down the side, listening for the soft voices of the girls as your nose took in the boquet of horse flesh and manure.

'The Nightingales' they called themselves. It was definitely the hour of the nightingale, past the hour of the wolf.

"Here it is," Alyssa said. A horse, one of the mares, whickered in their stall. You looked through a window hatch into the stable proper. They gathered around a candle in dark cloaks, and Alyssa held something in her hand. "I had to sneak it from my mother's personal library."

"Let me see!"

Four figures, all girls of an age with one another. Genna Wills, Milly the cook's daughter, your sister Alyssa, and Darcey, you thought, a slightly older girl who worked at the Road Dust tavern down in the village. Darcey seemed the leader of the group, older and more mature.

But what had they gathered at this late hour for?

"A Caution for Young Girls," Genna Wills said, and giggled. Her giggle was caught by Milly and Darcey.

A book, some stupid book. You grit your teeth and considered leaving.

"Open it, open it!" Milly said to Alyssa, "Read some!"

"Okay, okay," your sister said nervously. She flipped through the pages. "This one looks good, um...'Pleasures of the Mouth, and the Three Secret Kisses.'"

"Pleasures of the mouth?" Genna said, confused, "What does that mean?"

"Shush, shush!" Alyssa said, "Let me read. Um...'the pleasures of the mouth are not for good or chaste girls, but dirty acts taught in the pleasure houses of Lys and Braavos, practiced in the water gardens of Dorne. These are known by all slatterns and pillow boys, even in King's Landing.'"

"What's a pillow boy?" Milly asked.

"A maester's best friend," Darcey said, which got a snort from Alyssa but only more confusion from the other girls.

"Hush, hush! It might explain!" Alyssa said, swallowing, "Of the Pleasures of the Mouth, there are Three Secret Kisses specific to women, and none are more skilled at the Three Kisses than the Dornish. The kiss of the tongue, the kiss of the ear, and the kiss of the...of the parting thighs." She let out an embarassed sigh that spoke of a blush. "A man might know the first kiss, or the second, and be considered virtuous, but any who knows the third is a black rogue and the bane of maidens. A good girl will avoid such a man."
>>
Your skin prickled and face grew hot. It was one of those sorts of books. The sort no one was supposed to be reading.

"Do you think your brother knows the Three Kisses?" Genna asked, "He's Dornish."

A cold shock went up your back, feeling suddenly very visible from your hiding place.

"Shut up Genna, that's disgusting!" Alyssa said.

"I wouldn't mind finding out," Genna said, "I bet he knows. Bastards know things. And he's oh so very pretty."

Your ears burned, you swallowed as you burned with a blush.

"He's never even kissed a girl I'd bet," Alyssa said, "Now shut up about him, do you want me to keep reading or not?"

"Keep going, keep going!" Milly urged.

They huddled closer to the candle til they were a ring of shadows around it. You had to creep a little closer to hear more, now wondering if you should. But the nervous energy wouldn't let you leave, and only built as you slunk closer.

Alyssa definitely shouldn't be reading a book like this, least of all with her lowborn friends.

"'In my time in Lys I learned the Third Kiss. A woman might use her mouth on another woman, and learn more of herself in doing so. A woman knows a woman's pleasure', uh...." Alyssa looked to her friends awkwardly. "Let's um, keep going. 'It is no shame on a woman's virtue to lay with a girl friend or companion, but maybe seen as sport or practice. A woman cannot...cannot get a woman with child, so rightly cannot spoil her virtue. I spent long months mastering the third kiss while a plaything of a she-captain of the Basilisk Isles, a Summer Islander woman taken to being a corsair. I became sport for her and her crew, and they taught me shameful pleasures no maiden of Westeros should endure, until at last I escaped to Lys'."

"Sport, what does she mean by that?" Milly asked.

"You might be too young for this book," Darcey said.

"I might be too young for this book," Alyssa said.

"Keep going," Genna said, breath baited with excitement.

"'A woman knows when the third kiss is mastered, by a hot flush'," Alyssa continued, then pausing on a flustered breath, "I don't know if we should keep reading this."

"You flowered today, didn't you Allie?" Genna asked, a sudden change in topic.

"What about it?" Alyssa snapped.

"So that means you should know these things. You're a woman now. You'll be married soon, right? To the Tarly boy?"

"Samwyck," Alyssa groaned, "He looks more like a pig than Ser Hog. Please lets not talk on him. Last time he came to visit he spent all dinner staring at my mother's breasts."

"I doubt he knows any of the secret kisses," Genna said.

"What's it like, flowering?" Milly asked.

Girl talk. This was suddenly a lot less interesting than it had been.

"Um," Alyssa said.

"Like a bad itch you can't scratch," Genna said.

"Bothersome," Darcey added.

"Hot," Alyssa said, "I woke up all hot and cramped. But...um did either of you have dreams when you first flowered?"

"Dreams?" Not that I can remember," Darcey said.
>>
"No dreams from me. What dream did you have?" Genna asked.

"Nothing, I don't know," she said, "I don't know if I want to say, you'll take it wrong."

"Tell us and see how we take it," Genna said.

"It was a dream about....about him. The bastard."

"Oh you dirty girl!" Genna said, grabbing at Alyssa, "Tell us everything!"

"Not that sort of dream!" Alyssa said, closing up the book, "I knew you'd take it wrong."

"So tell us!"

"All right, well. I had a dream. It was, we were on a green field. It wasn't anywhere I'd been before. He was standing there, um, naked. Under the sun, naked."

"It's sounding like that sort of dream," Darcey said. Milly was quiet, confused but delighted as Genna giggled.

"He was laughing, I'd never heard him laugh before," Alyssa spoke now without concern for her friends' teasing. You leaned closer. The last place you wanted to be was in her dreams, but you were curious.

"He danced in the grass. He wasn't himself. He was...older. I was older too. And while he danced I saw...I saw smoke on the nearest hill. A grass fire was spreading. It grew slow but as it grew it started to spread until it grew faster and faster. Black smoke rising up from the fire. But it wasn't normal fire, the flames were black and spreading," the pitch of her voice grew sharp and fast, "I screamed at him to run but instead...instead he reached his arms out toward the fire. I screamed and screamed until my lungs stopped working, screamed for him to run before it swallowed him up. It spread so far the fire covered all the hills in front of us. The smoke was choking and I was dizzy from it. It choked away my screams. I watched the flames reach his feet. I couldn't run myself, I could only watch as the flames danced around him, and the sound of his laughing as he...as he..."

She stopped talking, her friends cowed and silent. When next spoke you could hear the lock in her jaw and strain in her face.

"Why should I care, it was just a stupid dream," she said, "Let him burn."

None of her friends spoke at first.

"Do you want to keep reading?" Genna asked.

Alyssa shook her head.

"Stupid flower," she muttered, "Just a stupid flowering dream. You're lucky, Milly. Enjoy being a child as long as you can, once you flower it all goes rotten. This stupid flowering means I have to marry that stupid Tarly boy, move to Horn Hill and give him stupid piggy babies. Maybe I should join the silent sisters and be done with it, what do you think?"

"You talk too much to be a silent sister," Darcey said.

>you'd heard enough, slink away with your stolen knowledge
>tarry a while to confront Alyssa when she leaves

(big update, sorry)
>>
>>5497160
>you'd heard enough, slink away with your stolen knowledge

Foreshadowing for Blackfyre no doubt. Lets try ask Willard about such dream. Ofcourse do not mention it was actually Alyssa's
>>
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LMAO this nigga actually wrote in A Caution for Young Girls
>>
Could imagine Edric joining Daemon with no regrets and if he survived go to Essos to help getting a Blackfyre on the Iron Throne
>>
>>5497160
>tarry a while to confront Alyssa when she leaves
>>
>>5497160
>you'd heard enough, slink away with your stolen knowledge

We ought to keep unnoticed, who knows what Alyssa would do. And we ought to remember that dream she had.

On a brighter note, she seems to not want us dead, so that's a good sign.
>>
>>5497160
>tarry a while to confront Alyssa when she leaves
>>
>>5497160
>tarry a while to confront Alyssa when she leaves
>>
>>5497160
>you'd heard enough, slink away with your stolen knowledge
>>
>>5497160
>>you'd heard enough, slink away with your stolen knowledge
>>
>>5497160
>you'd heard enough, slink away with your stolen knowledge

>>5497162
Solid idea

>>5497165
And pretty well at that!
>>
>>5497160
>you'd heard enough, slink away with your stolen knowledge
>>
>>5497160

>You'd heard enough, slink away with your stolen knowledge.

We got enough dirt on her, reading a lewd instruction book with smallfolk friends. And at such a late hour.
>>
>>5497238
>>5497225
>>5497221
>>5497216
>>5497213
time to steal away with Edric's stolen knowledge
>>
It's occured to me with so much pain at home for us we don't nearly spend enough time away from home to try and salve it, we should be an absolute menace to the surrounding... Village? you know drinking, getting into trouble with the peasants, fighting etc, it might not offer much but the house really doens't offer much that isnt pain and long term gains for a child.
>>
>>5497269
We are 13. Give it a year or two. But i do agree getting out more. Do some horse riding around the territory
>>
>>5497278
Yeah fair I just think it might be a point to start doing now particulary as we keep getting dabbed on, Edric is going to want a reprieve sooner or later if doesn't become a mopey shit.
>>
A few secrets gleaned, and maybe there was something you could do with them. Alyssa's dream was strange and made you feel strange, knowing you were in her sleeping thoughts, but the fact of her stealing a crude book to read with her smallfolk friends in secret, outside the midnight hour? And not just any book, but a lewd book that belonged to her mother, Lady Marisa. You didn't know what you could do with that yet, but hopefully something.

For now though you went back to bed, and a little satisfied, managed to sleep.

The next day you found Ser Hobb waiting for you in the training yard. Gareth was on one of the horses, a cumbersome lance in hand. Your younger brother grimaced as he held the horse's reins and the lance at once, a little too challenging for him at ten. You'd certainly trained the sword more than the lance, but you were good enough with a lance his fumbling made you look like an expert.

"Flowers," Ser Hobb said. Better than Sand. He crossed the yard to meet you. "My Lord Clover tells me I'm not to beat you anymore." He smelled as if he'd spent the day before in his cups. "And treat you as a 'squire'."

He leaned close, spoke low. "But I'll be damned if I'll have a black-eyed Dornish bastard as a squire, and your father's a soft cock anyhow. You watch as you go, boy. Accidents happen."

You weren't scared of him, you certainly liked to pretend so, but you couldn't mistake his chilling threat. Whatever good your father thought he was doing had only made the ugly knight mad. Had Lady Marisa somehow emboldened him, or was this his own ugly nature?

"Now I've lessons to give young Gareth here on jousting. Get him ready for the squire's tourney in Highgarden. He'll bring some sun on House Clover, when I'm done with him. Do as you like."

Your chubby younger brother knew more of books and lemoncakes than riding. At least it would be funny watching him struggle and fail to strike the training dummy you had so viciously assaulted last night.

Perhaps of them all Gareth was least deserving of your spite, but he had a certain smugness come to him from his book reading and you were not feeling overly generous with any of Lady Marisa's children as late.

You watched him get the horse to a trot, keeping the lance in hand. Past that however and the problems started. He nearly lost th elance under the hooves of his own horse, getting it tangled in the horse's legs that startled the horse, normally even natured, to cry and buck. Your brother's panic on the back of the beast made you laugh.

Ser Hobb at least was paying you no attention. Servants were about, busy with something. There was plenty of activity.

Qarl Wills, the castellan, had it in hand.

"A week's store, enough for twenty, should be enough for the journey to Highgarden," he told the cook, "Make it clear what is for the servants and what is for his lordship's family. Our lord needs all his vigour for the tourney coming."
>>
When he saw you watching he made a noise you might make to frighten away a cat, shooing you away.

"I'll need you to mind the place while I'm gone," your father told Uncle Normund, "Keep an eye on the twins, they're growing more michevious."

They hadn't seen you just yet. You stopped to listen.

"You're taking Lady Marisa with you?" the old knight asked.

"She's eager to see Highgarden and call on her friends, Elinor Penrose and the Hightower girl. I'm taking Alyssa as well. Time she was shown the seat of our lord paramount."

"Lord Tarly won't like that," he replied.

"Does Lord Tarly rule the Rose Hall? I don't give a good damn what he likes. We are not subjects of Horn Hill, not while I live."

"Well said," your uncle said with a grin.

"I was going to take Ser Hobb with me, to captain our guards," your father said, "It leaves you a little short handed."

"It's hardly needed. There's no stretch of road safer than the Roseroad to Highgarden."

"And I'm taking him all the same."

The silence between them was stern.

"We never should have let those Dornish in," your great uncle snarled.

"He's my son, uncle, and kin to you," your father replied.

Your skin prickled warm. Did he mean it? Did that mean you'd be going to Highgarden as well, after everything?

"Your wife won't like it," Uncle Normund said.

"I can handle Marisa," he said, "I want to be on the road by tomorrow morning."

"And when will you be back?" Normund asked.

"Gods alone know, Lord Leo's tourneys can last over long," your father said.

You were going to Highgarden, despite everything that had transpired yesterday. You shivered with excitement. That meant travel, even adventure. You wanted to shout, you were excited.

>go pack and be ready, you had an opportunity now, and didn't want to disappoint your father
>you have no friends in the castle, head to the Road Dust tavern in the village to find someone to boast to
>>
>>5497313
>go pack and be ready, you had an opportunity now, and didn't want to disappoint your father

This is our chance. Let us not fuck it up. We are gonna show everyone
>>
>>5497313
>>go pack and be ready, you had an opportunity now, and didn't want to disappoint your father
>>
>>5497313
>go pack and be ready, you had an opportunity now, and didn't want to disappoint your father
We will become a silent diciplined knight with an unforgiving fury.
>>
>>5497319
We do really need a friend or two. Should be able to find one in Highgarden
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>>5497313
>go pack and be ready, you had an opportunity now, and didn't want to disappoint your father
>>
>>5497313
>go pack and be ready, you had an opportunity now, and didn't want to disappoint your father
>>
>>5497313
>go pack and be ready, you had an opportunity now, and didn't want to disappoint your father

I wonder what this tourney will be like

>>5497319
Anon with due respect stoicism is fucking boring trait in a player character
>>
>>5497313
>go pack and be ready, you had an opportunity now, and didn't want to disappoint your father
>>
>>5497324
That's true, but also full edge.
Maybe somewhere in between?
>>
>>5497332
People will mistake our silent seething for stoicism and only find out the truth when it's too late
>>
>>5497336
That's more accurate.
>>
>>5497313
>>go pack and be ready, you had an opportunity now, and didn't want to disappoint your father

A caution for young girls is kino
>>
>>5497332
I think I like the idea of being full of violent emotion whenever house glover is involved but kinda opaque when its not.

>>5497336
The seethings a bit one note but I like it as a source of pain for Edric since he's pretty fucking powerless when people aggravate it.

I really hope we get into something intresting teenager shennanigans while we're away that can relieve some of the stress or aggravate it
>>
pretty unanimous again

but I'm tired and I'll write it tomorrow, with the start of the trip to and hopefully arrival at Highgarden.

(I'd originally considered running a quest where you played as a newly enchained maester, off to their castle. It was going to be a kind of Westeros Brother Cadfael thing, wholly centered in one place, but decided I wanted to do a more classic A Song of Ice and Fire adventure)
>>
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Emotions are for fags and women.
I ain't voting for a kid to be an edgelord.
>>
Are we going to be using a particular system for rolling?
>>
>>5497313
>go pack and be ready, you had an opportunity now, and didn't want to disappoint your father
don't go soft cocked on us now dad.
>>
I like to imagine that for the first time since he was a baby, Edric has a genuine smile while on his way to Highgarden. Much to stepmothers annoyance and shock and horror to Alyssa
>>
>>5497375
I have a question. How dark is Edric by the way, dark enough to look like a Sand Dornishman ?

Also i get the feeling Edric will grow up to be quite the looker
>>
>>5493867
>>5497387
Id say by this picture we would look just slightly darker than our father. Not black.
>>
>>5497393
>But of your mother you only had stories, her dark hair, and an olive toned skin that darkened to a deep brown under the heat of the sun.

Guess that only happens when we get tanned. Otherwise we are closer to Salt Donish. If we mainly take after our mother.
>>
>>5497387
More a Salt Dornishman in looks, though Edric can darken pretty deeply under a hot sun. He's got his father's eyes and will likely grow to be taller and bigger than the average Dornishman too.

>>5497377
Fuck, I hadn't even thought about a dice system and was mostly running this as a narrative. We should have something though. Do you guys have any ideas or preferences? I don't mind doing this quest all free form for the most part, but if you'd like something crunchier for running the tourneys it might not be a bad idea to figure it out before we get to any of them.
>>
>>5497313
holy shit, the second option is lmao. Wtf QM? You want to get MC shanked or robbed?

>go pack and be ready, you had an opportunity now, and didn't want to disappoint your father
>>
>>5497407
If you want to be very crunchy for tourneys you can go look at Forgotten's system in Sworn to Valour. I thought it worked fairly well for his tournament arc.

Otherwise, plain jane bo3d100 is traditional and has served many quests well over the years.
>>
>>5497407
Can always just do 3d100 best out of 3 and do the number crunching behind the scene that way you can also fudge the numbers for narrative sake
>>
>>5497407
You could use the RPG's system, it seems pretty good
>>
>>5497407
Best of 3d100 is pretty standart as far as /qst/ quests go
You can throw in some modifiers here and there as well
>>
>>5497468
The system has more than a few issues but it does work, don't know if thats what Munkun is after though since this seems fairly light.
>>
>>5497468
>>5497507
I actually have a copy of the Green Ronin rpg, if that's what you're talking about

>>5497440
I'm not familiar with Sworn to Valor, could you link the rules?

I'll figure something out by the time its relevant
>>
>>5497548
I am not sure if StV rules were ever compiled
Here is an archive for the quest if you want to check it
The first 2 threads outline it pretty well
https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Sworn%20to%20Valour
>>
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>>5497548
Yeah I think that was what anon was talking about.

>>5497561
The combat rules are in essence the same as social or intrigue and they have been posted my knigga

Forgotten usually pretty friendly about inquiries and sharing his thought on the rules if you want to know more.
>>
>>5497313
>>go pack and be ready, you had an opportunity now, and didn't want to disappoint your father
this might go badly, but better try first

>>5497321
who knows, if there are some that appreciate our skills maybe. Otherwise, an event in a court of high nobility might not have any kids interested in creating a friendship with a bastard.
Lowborn kids are a different story, and of course other bastards. The third category is probably Edric best shot.
>>
>>5497579
I think I'll give this system a shot, with some small modifications specific for jousting
>>
>>5498272
Suprised if we are actually going to joust considering we most likely wont have the equipment. Expected us just to take part in a squire melee
>>
>>5498275
oh this quest is going to span years. edric won't stay 13 forever
>>
>>5498272
He had a system for jousting as well, don't remember how different it was but it was used.

It's a good system for quests that require death to always be a possibility in a fight.
>>
>>5498278
Reposting from the Jousting thread:

Tournament Rules
A joust between individual contestants will be decided by two rolls. The Rider Skill represents your control, stability and speed with your steed. The Joust roll represents your accuracy and steadiness upon impact.

While only a single set of rolls determines the outcome between two jousters, the eventual winner may be decided after several passes in-quest between evenly matched opponents. Depending on how close the results are the roll may represent a series of exchanges with a close outcome or a single decisive pass.

Although the armour and steed of a dismounted opponent is forfeit, it is considered quite unchivalrous to ask for anything more than a token ransom [1 Wealth] for the release of these items. It's a tad more complex, but as we're not dealing with relatively unknown contestants without virulent feuds or matters of honour on the line (aside from winning), this will suffice for Sir Andrei's part. Tied breaks are rare and reset the Rider/Joust roll. In addition to that, the crowds absolutely *love* them.

1st Roll: Rider Skill
DC 30 If horse is of inferior breeding
DC 50 If horses are of equal breeding
DC 70 If horse is of superior breeding
[Most Knights will be riding Warhorses of decent breeding]
Crit-fail = Re-roll all Joust successes
Double Fail = +1 Opponent Joust Re-Roll
0 = Base Joust DC 20
1 = +20DC
2 = +40DC
3 = +60DC
Double Pass = +1 Joust Re-roll
Crit-pass = Re-roll all Joust failures


2nd Roll: Joust
DC dependant on Rider success. Base DC 20.
Crit-fail = Failure, roll on the dismount injury table. [-1 Wealth]
Double Fail = S0-1 Dismounted: S2-3 Tied Break. No re-roll.
0 = Failure, dismounted by opponent's shattered lance [-1 Wealth]
1 = Failure, opponent broke lance.
2 = Success, broke lance on opponent.
3 = Success, shattered lance and dismounted opponent. [+1 Wealth]
Double Pass = S0-1 Tied Break: S2-3 Opponent dismounted. No re-roll.
Crit-pass = Stunning success, opponent must roll dismount injury. [+1 Wealth]
>>
All right I think I have an idea about how to run combat/tourneys when we get to it, but I'll cover that when we get to it.

Sorry for the lack of an update, had some housework to get done
>>
>>5498272
Be aware the wealth system he used was critiqued so you might want to tweak it yourself, I'll post it when I'm home.
>>
>>5498457
I'm not planning on having rules for anything but combat
>>
>>5498459
came off a little terse there

but thanks I appreciate

and to show my appreciation for you guys digging up that stuff, I'm going to give you a fate point

if there's a roll or a combat, or a particular interaction you want to go a certain way, you can spend your fate point to have it work out for Edric.

just say when you're invoking it, vote yes or no, and I'll apply it

careful though, don't expect many if any more of these
>>
>>5498494
Damn thanks QM
That's unironically mighty generous of you
>>
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Haha let's use our fate point to convince Alyssa to act out a few excerpts from A Caution for Young Girls, wouldn't that be funny? Hehe it would be educational for both of them
>>
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>>5498508
>>
>>5498494
Ah, that will be very useful for proving Edric to be a top-notch jouster at the tourney
>>
>>5498508
That fate point could literally save Edric's life down the line and you want to spend it on kissing some backwater noble girl?
At least go for the queen or something.
>>
>>5498517
Anon i will take a wild leap and guess that he isnt being serious
>>
Highgarden. The home of chivalry, where knights were made among its groves and maidens sailed along the Mander singing the sers on in their battles of love and beauty. The keep of Garth the Gardener, King of the Reach, son of Greenhands, who made the land bloom and fathered a hundred children.

You were going to Highgarden.

In your room you packed your things. There wasn't much to pack, as it wasn't much of a room. A small cot by the wall, a small figurine of the Warrior you hadn't touched since you were Bael's age, your changes in clothes with a washbasin and mirror. Not much to take.

You took out the tunic with the emblem of House Clover on the chest, set it on your bed. The red rose of Rose Hall on a field of blue, trimmed in grey.

The symbol of your father's House. You wore it only as a servant, like the men-at-arms it was a badge of your allegiance, not your family. Alyssa and her mother had never allowed you to forget it. You smoothed the wrinkles. There was no making you a true Clover except by royal decree.

So your deeds, whatever they might be, would be those of a bastard's. Good, then they would be yours alone.

Blackfyre had been knighted at twelve. Other bastards had served in the Kingsguard. Some had founded Houses of their own. And there was Alyn Velaryon, born Alyn of Hull. The Oakenfist, who through dragonfire had claimed the seat of Driftmark.

You took the one book you had with you.

'Bastard Born'.

"Do you really think you'll do more than guard the mules?" the mean soft voice of your sister spoke behind you.

She stood in your door in a grey dress belted around her waist. She had spots of pink in her cheek, you didn't know if it was from anger or her 'flower' but it made no difference to you. You stashed the book in your bag.

"Even in Highgarden you'll just be another man-at-arms," she said, "It's only the real squires who get to compete. Maybe you can help cheer on Gareth before he falls off his horse."

"Do you want something, or are you just here to be annoying?" you said.

She scoffed, crossing her arms. "I'm here to temper your expectations, bastard. Don't think anything has changed just because father is allowing you to ride along with us."

Her mean little smirk.

>say: I love you too, sister
>say: I don't care what you think, Alyssa
>you didn't have time for this, push her out of your room
>tell her she should be carefu, you know her 'secret'
>>
(just the one update today, I'll be back next week)
>>
>>5498585
>say: I love you too, sister

So nice to see our beloved sister coming to see us before we leave. I am sure she is just overjoyed to be travelling with us. She must hold us dear in her dreams!
>>
>>5498585
>say: I love you too, sister
>>
>>5498585
I don't really like any of these

first one is just weak sarcasm.
second is okay but it's not the sharp comment I want.
third is the same as the second.
fourth just tips our hand early.

I'll think on it more.
>>
>>5498585
>"what can you tell me that I don't already know? I might be a bastard but I am not stupid. I will have to prove myself like the common folk instead of having the benefits of nobility."
>>
>>5498585
>>say: I love you too, sister
>>say: I don't care what you think, Alyssa
Either one of those is fine. No reason to waste any thought or energy on her. Just count my vote toward whichever one will be winning.
>>
>>5498585
>say: I love you too, sister
>>
>>5498585
>say: I love you too, sister
>>
>>5498611
Also like to add.
>But at least I will be able to marry someone I live and won't be sold as a breeding mare to another house
>>
QM are you sure you're not pulling for an incest/step incest angle with all this focus on the women of this house? Not that I mind

>I love you too, dear sister. I'm glad I remain ever in your thoughts.
>>
>>5498585
>>say: I don't care what you think, Alyssa

Why don't we practice mental health techniques in a harsh medieval world. Step 1 cutting off the bad people in your life lol.
>>
>>5498585
>>5498618
Support
>>
>>5498611 >>5498617 >>5498618
I like these. Let me give my spin

>>5498585
> "Im glad to remain ever in your thoughts but I do not need you to tell me what I already know, everything I will get will be by my sweat and blood alone. Although at least I will be able to choose who I marry and not get sold to a pig like a sow."

Might be a bit too much for a twelve year old but eh... I've no clue how to write like one.
>>
>>5498585
>>tell her she should be careful, you know her 'secret'
>>
>>5498618
This one is a good one.
>>
>>5498585
i'll change my vote from
>I love you too, sister
to
> I'm glad I remain ever in your thoughts.
>>
>>5498585
Sure I'll switch from >>5498613 to supporting
>I love you too, dear sister. I'm glad I remain ever in your thoughts.
Got more bite to it without going full on dramatic monologue
>>
>>5498585
> I'm glad I remain ever in your thoughts.
>>
>>5498618
>I love you too, dear sister. I'm glad I remain ever in your thoughts.

Be as sarcastic as possible
>>
>>5498585
>>I love you too, dear sister. I'm glad I remain ever in your thoughts.
>>
>>5498494
Nah its fine I get you have a scope you want and the wealth system isn't a part of that.

Any cheers for the fate point I hope we don't use it on something stupid.
>>
>>5498585
> I'm glad I remain ever in your thoughts.
Hilarious, can't wait till she goes beet red

Also, I'd love to go across the narrow sea and pick up a Valyrian Steel blade when we're older
>>5493637
Hey Maester, have you written any other quests? I'm this sorta reminds me of House Shryke which I absolutely love and miss terribly, I also miss Father he was pretty cool
>>
>>5498618
Absolute dunking on her has my support
>>
>>5498618
>I love you too, dear sister. I'm glad I remain ever in your thoughts.

Tease then seethe boys.
>>
>>5498585
>>say: I love you too, sister
>>
>>5498585
>I love you too, dear sister. I'm glad I remain ever in your thoughts.
lol
>>
>>5498618
I do like this one. I choose this.
>>
>>5498585
>I love you too, dear sister. I'm glad I remain ever in your thoughts.
>>
>>5498585
>I love you too, dear sister. I'm glad I remain ever in your thoughts.
>>
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Huh.. guess asoiaf is still as popular as ever. Strange though, we could hardly get more than 6-8 votes in Shryke or Reynold when the board had much higher activity.
>>
>>5499427
Absence makes the heart grow fonder
>>
>>5499427
I know literally nothing about the universe. Didn't play any asoiaf quests before as well. Decided to participate this time cause the premise seemed interesting and this QM has good writing compared to the rest of the board.
Besides out of 2 other quests that I am currently following one is on a break due to the QM being sick and the second one updates like once a week so I decided to pick up another one.
>>
>>5499427
I've noticed that over the years the popularity of the asoiaf quests are really tied to the shows and rumors of Winds of Winter. They also spring up like mushrooms because when one pops up more always follow.

It's safe to assume that with the wait for season two of House of the Dragon that peoples minds are back in Westeros and are looking to fill the gap.
>>
>>5499427
I normally don't give a shot about ASOIAF, but something about this one just struck me as good. The dialogue has generally impressed me so far.
>>
>>5499427
asoiaf quests comes in waves. All of the sudden a lot just comes forth only to dissapear again
>>
>>5499452
>>5499440
that's very flattering to read, thank you

also I'll fit in an update today to give you guys another choice to chew on over the weekend

looks like:

> I love you too, dear sister. I'm glad I remain ever in your thoughts.

is a pretty clear winner
>>
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You knew a way to wipe the smirk off her face.

"I love you too, dear sister," you said, then did something to truly shock her. Placed a peck on her cheek. "I'm glad I'm in your thoughts."

The stunned look on her face, the fingers that went to her cheek. It made you grin, more so when the shock passed amd her pale face flooded red with fury. It was worth the stinging slap she put on your own cheek, which only made your grin grow wider. It was hard to take her snarl seriously, the fury of a twelve year old girl, that the grin turned into a dark chuckle.

"Bastard," she spat, the word ever ready in her scabbard but with more venom than usual, and when she grabbed her long braid and fled you gave a tough little grin, happy to have sent her running.

But when you went back to packing, buckling your travel bag, your pleasure turned into an angry kind of sullness as you glared at the buckle of the bag. There had been wetness in her eyes as she had fled which had spoiled the fun.

Fuck the brat, you thought. She had delighted enough in your misery you could take some delight in hers. How many times had she egged some mason's son or baker's boy into picking a fight with you, and watched the brawls in glee, spying from safe vantage, delighting whether you won or lost? How many times had she found you recovering and taken delight in pressing on your bruises just to make them sting?

She could hurt you, you would hurt her, and hurt her worse if needs be. And maybe you could learn to love the bitter aftertaste it left in your mouth.

When the next day came and the household was ready for departing, you found yourself alone with your horse. You'd been given the gelding Chestnut to ride. Gareth was on Jester, a young horse. Your father rode his destrier, Bullroarer, Jester's sire. For the girls, a gilded wagon had been readied. Ser Hobb rode his own horse, the ill-treated Fennel, and Ser Lincoln had his own steed.

Ser Hobb was armoured, astride his horse and in command of a body of footmen, ten men-at-arms in the colours of House Clover the family crest upon their cloaks. Your father hardly kept a martial household, but his soldiers had good stout spears and shields with tall conical helms and coats of mail. Ser Hobb wore a jack of plates and his helm was a match for the footmen. With the wagon behind Lady Clover's carriage were the servants who would care for the family on the short trip up to the Mander Crossing to Highgarden beyond, and behind them were the remounts, spare horses.

It was no great journey up the roseroad but still you were excited. You had on a coat of mail and a helmet like the men-at-arms, but your horse marked you as separate, even if Chestnut was no warhorse. The sun was high. Ser Normund stood with Maester Wilard and Septon Tomas, the twins in front of them.

When a whipcrack started the carriage forward, and Lady Marisa waved farewell to her young twins with tears in her eyes, Bael shot forward from his great uncle's grip, wailing.
>>
"Take me with you!" he yelled, chasing the road dust, "Mama, take me too!"

The knight grabbed the sobbing boy back, who watched you depart through snot and thick tears.

Passing the village and onto the Roseroad proper, you set heels to horse to launch Chestnut into a gallop. The road was ahead of you, ivy laced road stones marking out the miles down its dirt packed length, wild flowers growing among the trees that cast shade across its broad length. A wind rose a rustle among the green leafy boughs, stirring the distant wheat stalks of your father's tennant famers, and cooling a nearby head of cattle, watched over by their herdsman leaning on a staff.

You waved to the distant herdsman but he only stared from under the broad brim of his straw hat. A hat you wish you had yourself soon enough. The sun was out and it was warm, a day for cricket song sounding from the tall grass.

"Pace your horse, Flowers!" Ser Hobb called after you.

"Let the boy run free a little," Ser Lincoln called, "It's a good day for it." Then laughing, launched into his own gallop.

You were still sour with Ser Lincoln, Lincoln Red Grapes as his sister called him, but you couldn't deny the joy of someone to race with.

From the carriage your sister peered out, her mother watching your father, and their septa minding her own business. Your father rode close to the carriage, its frame a maze of carved flower buds and petals. He took something from his pack, a square box as wide as your head but no thicker than the muscle on your forearm, and passed it to his wife. You wouldn't have seen it had you not glanced back but once, then seen the kiss they shared, a tender little kiss.

"Forgive me for the other day," Ser Lincoln said, drawing even to you, "My sister has a tongue of Valyrian steel, the best armour against it is silence. But here you are all the same, on the road to Highgarden."

He was not wrong, though you didn't want to give him any credit. Ser Lincoln sniffed on the road dust the sneezed.

The sun was not even orange in its descent when your father called a halt for the day. You doubt you were outside Clover lands. You watered the horses and checked the saddles for the sers and your lord father.

"Do you have a mind to get some practice in before Highgarden?" Ser Lincoln asked your father as they took to a seat, the camp assembled around them by servants.

"It will take more than a single fight to knock off my rust," your father said.

"Must you enter?" Lady Marisa said, sitting close to her husband, "Sit with me in the stands and enjoy the spectacle. You've not been in the lists since Alyssa was at the breast."

"Lord Tyrell will expect it, and I'm not some old man," he said, "I'll let some brave young knight break their spear on my helm and withdraw with honour, but I won't sit it out."

"Tourneys can be dangerous," she said, stroking his cheek.
>>
It was amazing how she could so much mimic a loving woman, you thought, watching from where you gathered firewood. But you knew better. There was nothing but a gross reptile behind that sweet seeming face.

"Flowers!" Ser Hobb barked. You dropped the wood to confront him. "Find a sword, your brother needs a training partner."

Ser Hobb had found a space for it, and made time while the sun still gave enough light to see.

He had you both on horses, armed with sword and shield.

"There's to be a Squire's Melee," Ser Hobb said, watching you both from foot, "You win it by knocking your opponent from his horse however you may, or knock him so senseless he chooses to yield. The last boy standing is the winner, and will recieve a prize from Lord Tyrell himself. It's a great honour, and speaks well of our House to distinguish yourself in it."

He said it all to Gareth but you listened intently. Blackfyre had been knighted by King Aegon after winning a squire's melee, younger than you were now. It put a hunger in you, your appetite roused for the crash of swords and crack of shields.

"You're no great warrior Gareth," Ser Hobb said to the boy, "But you've got some wits. Be clever and you may scrape out a victory. Mayhaps." Ser Hobb was doubtful.

Your brother was awkward on his horse and in his armour. The high neckline of his mail shirt only made his cheeks seem all the fatter and his expression more uncomfortable. He seemed uncertain if he should hold his reins or his sword in the same hand, in both, or neither. You felt a slight disgust, that this pale fat boy of ten was your father's heir, and more likely to win knighthood than you were.

"Flowers, give him something to practice on," your knight grunted at you.

Gareth trotted his horse toward you, took a whack at the peak of your helm while keeping his seat.

"Stop moving!" Gareth hissed at you, though you hadn't moved an inch, "Let me win this."

He was nervous with sweat, which raised a bad odour from him, and made his tone nasty.

You blocked his next cut with your sword, and the force of your block shivered his arm.

"Flowers," Ser Hobb warned, cleft lip twisted in a snarl, the naked tooth bright in his mouth.

Gareth pointed his sword at your face with a cross look. "I said stop moving!" he said.

>encourage Gareth's efforts, fight back but lightly, increase his confidence
>scorn Gareth and give him a drubbing, you weren't his tiltyard dummy
>>
(I'll be back after the weekend)
>>
>>5499879
>Just parry and block intill he exhaust himself to get this embarrassment over with

He is not even worth entertaining and going too far will just ruin the trip for us.

Do remind him that boys in the melee will actually fight back
>>
>>5499879
Letting him gain false confidence serves no purpose and neither does beating him senseless. I'd say just fight him with sincerity, correcting his mistakes as it goes on or before the pig throws a fit and breaks up the fight.
>>
>>5499879
>encourage Gareth's efforts, fight back but lightly, increase his confidence
I want to do this, and then beat his ass in the Squire's tournament like he's the redheaded stepchild of an alcoholic rented mule
Also, I love Mystery Knights and I will never apologize for wanting to be one
>>
>>5499879
>scorn Gareth and give him a drubbing, you weren't his tiltyard dummy

Give him half the beating another squire would give him on account he is our half brother. Prepare him for what a real melee would be like
>>
>>5499892
>>5499895
Supporting. Stay still and get some parrying and blocking practice in.
>>
>>5499879
>>scorn Gareth and give him a drubbing, you weren't his tiltyard dummy
>>
>>5499892
>>5499895
+1 to these
In general I am very much against being beaten by that little bitchass
>>
>>5499895
+1
>>
>>5499879
>fight him with sincerity, correcting his mistakes as it goes on or before the pig throws a fit and breaks up the fight.
>>
>>5499879
>>5499926
+1 support
>>
>>5499895
+1
>>
So did Alyssa think we stole her first kiss even though it was on the cheek or did she realise that her power over Edric is faltering ?
>>
>>5499964
more we knew something incredibly personal and private of a preteen.

>>5499895
Bit too logic IMO and I'd rather we vented our frustrations a little

>>5499879
>scorn Gareth and give him a drubbing, you weren't his tiltyard dummy

This kid gets everything we don't
>>
>>5499879
>>5499943
Support this, he is just our younger brother being a younger brother. It isnt scorn at us only a fear of looking bad infront of everyone. Treating him with scorn only perpetuates scorn, treat him as a younger brother.
>>
>>5499965
I don't think it's too logical of a 12 year old bastard to not beat his legitimate little brother senseless in front of the cruel and sadistic master-at-arms. Even I, retard that I was, would've known not to do something like that.
>>
>>5499971
Not to mention the rest of the entire family is watching. I am willing to bet that if we did brownbeat him our beloved stepmother would throw a fit and make our father forbid us from participating in the melee and you just know that the spineless shit will cave in to her demands
>>
>>5499926
>+1
>>
>>5499926
>Support
>>
>>5499879
>>scorn Gareth and give him a drubbing, you weren't his tiltyard dummy
>>
>>5499926
+1
>>
>>5499892
>>5499895
>>5499926
Fully support

And especially remind him that the other squires will fight back and fight back for winning. If anyone has anything to say, they will remain silent with this.
Hobb can't argue on that, and can t say we go too soft or hard on Gareth. And I think he just wants an occasion for beat us, honestly.
The reptile and our family at worst can say we are demoralizing Gareth.
Our father will probably approve, thinking that Edric is trying to be a big brother despite what his family does. How wrong.
And Ser Lincoln ? Well there is no glass or cup of wine in sight. He either should run for find one, or speak.
>>
>>5499926
+1
>>
>>5499926
+1
>>
>>5499926
+1
>>
>>5499926
this seems to be the runaway winner
>>
>>5501763
No reason to hate our little bro, just cause his mother's a cunt.
>>
>>5501782
He is being a little shit though
>>
>>5501799
No one's taught him not to be. Biggest flex on what'shername is to be friends with/indifferent to her kids and let nothing she does affect us. We react and shrink away and that feeds her ego, we act shitty and that causes her to feel validated.

The biggest suffering she could endure is watching us be, or even look happy.
>>
>>5501799
Yeah he's being a retarded brat, that isn't enough of a justification to hate his guts since he doesn't know any better unlike his mother. If he keep acting like that in the future then that's another story.
>>
For every blow Gareth gave you blocked it then returned it, the edge of your sword ringing off his helm. It wasn't to shame or humiliate the boy, you simply refused to give him any illusion. Your brother was three years your junior and far from your martial equal. And while you did you walked Chestnut in a circle, steering the gelding with your calves, as your sword and shield refused Gareth any opening.

It would be so easy to unhorse him, you thought. It would take no effort at all. And you couldn't deny the bitter anger, that he was riding a young destrier, that he was armed and armoured so much the better despite his uncoordinated fumbling so innate to his fat limbs no training or instruction could entirely remedy it.

In every way you were his superior but one.

Unfortunately it was the only one that truly mattered.

"I said stop moving!" Gareth's voice was a frustrated whine unbecoming of the heir to House Clover.

"Do you think the other squires will listen to your bleating?" you said, a little mean but entirely truthful, "They'll knock you from your horse and trample you for equal measure just to shut you up. Focus on what I'm doing and less on what you wish I was doing."

Your brother's face became a pale scowl, but he did shut up.

He cut for your head, a clumsy cut you turned aside. Your return blow had enough force to jerk his neck back.

"If you want to stop me, keep your shield up and across you," you said, "And keep your horse moving too. Jester wants to move."

Jester had earned his name for his unruly nature, never happy to be still, always ready to kick at whatever came up behind him. Controlling such a difficult horse was half Gareth's problem. In their haste to make the boy a worthy little lordling, Ser Hobb had given him a horse too willful for him to truly control.

On the next blow he tried to do as you said, but tangled himself on the saddle and took another sound knock on the head. It would have been easy then to pull him from the saddle and dump him on the trampled grass, but you relented.

"This is unfair," he said, "You're bigger and older than me. How could I beat you?"

"By focusing," you said, annoyed by the return of his whining voice, "There'll be boys as old as sixteen on the field. Bigger than me, meaner too, and looking forward to beat on a high born heir."

As you were, you had to admit, when the melee would be a real competition and not roadside practice.

"You're not my teacher, just shut up and let me thump you," Gareth said, looking to Ser Hobb for support.

"Flowers is right," he said, though he was loathe to say it, "You'll get no easy treatment in a melee, with a real prize to win. And come a real battle that prize will be your life."

"Well the gods didn't make me a Warrior's son," Gareth said, his whine giving over to his sulky nature, "I have other strengths, mother says so."
>>
Yes, he wields a spoon with skill and grace upon a pie crust, you thought, and he certainly knew how to put one letter in front of another to make a word.

Spoiled little brat, you thought. Who else could indulge in desserts and book reading day in and day out?

"Try," you said, unsure why you were wasting such time with him when he clearly didn't want to.

His cut was half-hearted, you knocked it aside.

"Getting better," Ser Hobb lied with such words he'd never offered you.

Gareth bit his bottom lip then threw out a frustrated flurry, hacking at you, spurring Jester forward. Now this was better, in that it was more agressive, but no blow got through your sword or your shield and you ended it with a punch of your pommel to his chest that had him panicking for Jester's reins lest he lose his seat and hit the ground.

Jester reared back in a panic as his boy-rider began to lose his saddle. Seeing a wildness enter Jester's eyes you threw down your shield and grabbed at the stallion's bridle, keeping the horse from kicking back onto his hindlegs and throwing your half-brother. Gareth for his part flattened himself on Jester's neck, panting.

"I hate horses," he sobbed, shaking where he clutched Jester's mane, "I hate being thrown. I hate it, I hate it, I hate it."

"You're all right," you said with a mixture of pity and disgust. Ser Hobb helped him from his horse, with a gentleness that stung.

"That's enough for today," Ser Hobb said.

For his part Gareth seemed to hate Ser Hobb's pity as much if not more, and threw off the knight's hands.

"I'll never be a warrior," he said, tears on his fat cheeks, "Or a knight or a..." then he looked at you and his tears locked into hatred, "But neither will you. You're just a...just a bastard!" He stormed away for his mother's carriage.

"You couldn't just let him beat you, could you?" Ser Hobb said, a glimmer of hate in his eyes, "You never can, you proud little viper. I don't think you know what you are in this House, Sand. I don't think you understand, though the gods know I've tried to teach you."

But there was another watching more thoughtful. Your father, seated with Ser Lincoln and your sister. There was respect there, and when he saw you see him, he smiled, nodding his head as if in his eyes you had done the right thing. Alyssa sat, chin in her hands watching, humming around a stalk of grass.

"Take care of the horses," Ser Hobb said with a hard push, making his way over to the campfire.
>>
The next few days passed with little incident. As churlish as Gareth was being he couldn't avoid the afternoon training. For your part you were simply happy to be out on the road, passing the gentle fields and meadows up toward the River Mander, excited for the chance to see Highgarden. Whatever ill feeling Gareth had for you remained locked in his chest, with even his mother doing little in retaliation save keep you from sitting with the family at th enightly campfire, forcing you to bunk with the soldiers. It suited you fine. Soldiers were better company than spoiled brats.

A scream woke you up. The soldiers rose in alarm, the horses startled awake. Your eyes snapped open, heart quickened.

"Mother's mercy," a soldier swore, going for his helmet in a scramble.

It had come from inside the camp. From Alyssa's tent. And soon the scream became hard sobbing.

>rush over to find out what had happened
>if it was Alyssa it was no problem of yours, go back to sleep
>>
>>5501851
>rush over to find out what had happened
>>
>>5501851
>rush over to find out what had happened
Im curious and is the voice recognizable?
>>
>>5501850
>rush over to find out what had happened
>>
>>5501851

>rush over to find out what had happened
>>
>>5501850
>"Or a knight or a...

Wonder what he wanted to say there. Boy clearly got an inferiority complex. Despite having everything, but that might be part of the problem, he still see Edric as his better despite everything
>>
>>5501851
>rush over to find out what had happened
hmm potential to go daemon's route in caring for his family, if we meet the character could lead to a sense of comradery in being in a similar situation in a sense
>>
>>5501851
>>rush over to find out what had happened
>>
>>5501851
>rush over to find out what had happened
>>
>>5501889
For me, it's less about caring for his family and more fostering the only useful relation he has. Edric's father is the only person in the world with power and an interest in helping him move on up. Anything that serves that end is good!
>>
>>5501851
>>rush over to find out what had happened
>>
>>5501906
>>5501895
>>5501889
>>5501873
>>5501862
>>5501857
>>5501855
no dissent here

time to check in on sweet sister
>>
>>5501851
>rush over to find out what had happened
>>
Kicking away your blanket you fetched up your sword, not knowing the danger but not wanting to take any risks. Sharp steel sped out of your scabbard as you raced the distance to Alyssa's tent, leaping over the cold embers of the camp fire. The sobbing grew louder the nearer you got, though it was muted by the drumming of your own heart.

Pushing through the tent flap with bared steel, you looked for your half-sister in the dark.

You heard her more than saw her, dug into the corner of the tent, clutching so hard at the material she might pull it down on her head. She was pale, eyes large in her face, mouth set in a terrible grimace as sobs hiccuped out of her. Not fear but stark terror, tears streaming down her freckled cheeks.

It was the hour of the wolf.

"Bloody hands!" she sobbed, "Bloody hands!"

She kicked herself as far back as she could, as if she could make herself a woodland thing and dig her escape out of the dirt.

She stared beyond you crouched in the tent flap, out into the greater dark of night. You looked back as if you might see, but there was nothing.

"Covered in blood, red and sticky," she grabbed her throat, breathing so hard her entire body heaved, "They reached in from the night. Reaching in, reaching through...reaching for me!"

She lost her words on a frightened animal noise, grabbing herself, eyes stuck on the space behind you, not wanting to look but unable to look away. Hysterical and still half caught in her nightmare.

It took your breath, you'd never seen anyone so terrified.

"There's nought but me here," you said, but your voice was barely more than a whisper. Your words none the less gave her back her words, for a time.

"They want me, they want me, those blood stained hands," she said, "Edric...Edric, don't let them, don't. If they touch me, if they....if they..." She grabbed her hair and pulled and you thought for a moment she might tear her own hair out. Then she flung herself at you. Grabbed you, fingers digging in hard and painful into your back as she hugged you.

"Please don't let them, don't let them Edric."

She heaved against you, her body shaking beyond control, her awful sobbing starting once again, muffled into your shoulder.

"Please," she said, "Please."

>take her seriously, say: I won't, I promise
>try to reassure her, say: there's nothing there
>throw her back, say: Protect yourself
>>
>>5501956
>>take her seriously, say: I won't, I promise
>>
>>5501956
>take her seriously, say: I won't, I promise

Bloody hell. I wonder if Alyssa is some kind of greenseer
>>
>>5501956
>take her seriously, say: I won't, I promise
>>
>>5501956
>>take her seriously, say: I won't, I promise
>>
>>5501956
>take her seriously, say: I won't, I promise
>>
>>5501956
>>take her seriously, say: I won't, I promise
>>
>>5501956
>>take her seriously, say: I won't, I promise
How common is this shit in the asoiaf universe?
>>
>>5501956
>>take her seriously, say: I won't, I promise
>>5501971
One in one-thousand have the ability to put their mind inside the body of an animal and drive it around. One in one-thousand of them can do what Alyssa might be doing.
>>
>>5501956
>take her seriously, say: I won't, I promise
>>
>>5501972
Aka about once per story/quest
>>
>>5501978
I dont remember any other quests with a greenseer.
>>
>>5501978
Not really? Malroy, Shrike, and Reynolds all stayed away from magic on the whole. It might be more common elsewhere, but not here.
>>
So we've gone from antagonistic with Alyssa to caring and comforting?
>>
>>5501956
>take her seriously, say: I won't, I promise
>>
>>5501981
The other Asoiaf quest father ran in the Vale had quasi magic from memory.
>>
>>5501982
Eh. I see it as hard to just decline when she is acting so crazed and is literally digging her nails into us to beg us to stay
>>
>>5501982
Eh it's a heat of the moment thing and she is still the little sister begging and crying for help
>>
>>5501982
Simps don't care about consistency
>>
>>5501982
I just think being on good terms with someone who can see the future is a very useful thing.
Overall I don't give a fuck about family.
>>
>>5501988
The girl just saw some future bloodshed potentially a threat to Edric himself and you want us to ignore it and tell her to fuck off just cause he dislikes her?
That's just stupid.
>>
>>5501993
what's stupid is your simping
>>
>>5501982
The only thing I find weird is the "I promise" part since that's a lot of commitment. The rest is justified given how crazy and desperate she's acting right now. Personally, I'd Eadric has no clue as to what the fuck is going on with her so he doesn't know what to think.
>>
>>5501994
You voted for the same thing I did lol
Why are you such a simp?
>>
>>5501956
>>take her seriously, say: I won't, I promise
sure
>>5501982
>So we've gone from antagonistic with Alyssa to caring and comforting?
I don't want to be a cunt for no reason; there's bastard chip-on-the-shoulder and then there is full edgelord. Never go full edgelord
>>
>>5501997
shut up
>>
>>5502002
Simps like you can't give me orders
>>
>>5501995
He's suffering from sudden simp syndrome. It's over for him
>>
Why did no one else check up on her first? Why does a Reacher girl with Reacher parents have greensight when we have only seen First Men be skinchangers and greenseers in canon?
>>
>>5502015
Many families are descended from the First Men, even if they have converted. House Crane, of Red Lake in the Reach, are reputed to skinchange into cranes.
>>
>>5502015
Might have first men blood on mothers side.
>>
>>5502015
not going to get into too much of an argument but Garth Greenhand was a High King of the First Men and a lot of Reach Houses claim descent from him. The Tarlys specifically consider themselves blood of the First Men.

also the Redlarks are a Stormland House, so Alyssa is half Stormlander, though calling the Redlarks a Marcher House might be more accurate.
>>
seems pretty unanimous to me

either you guys are all on the same page or I'm putting in bioware-tier 'either pet the puppy or kick the puppy' options.
>>
>>5502048
Well dismissing a potentially prophetic dream in the universe where prophecies are known to be a real thing would be pretty narrow-sighted.
>>
>>5502048
The MC is starting to feel like a bipolar schizo ngl
>>
>>5502048
nah your options were fine. mc makes sense
>>
>>5502049
To quote tyrion lannister "prophecy will bite your prick off every time" sure as a book reader it exists but for a man on the ground let alone a teenage boy there is nothing to certify its existence as fact or that it won't deceive you.
>>
A dream was all it was, surely. A bad dream to be sure, but a dream all the same. At least that's what you wanted to believe, but it was hard to hold such conviction against the stark terror writ on your sister's face. Whether it was a dream or more than a dream, her fear was real.

And you found yourself caught in her sobbing embrace, a strange place you'd never found yourself in. To have her call you by your given name was unusual, to cling to you so and beg you not to leave had never happened before.

It stirred something inside that you didn't know was there, beneath the spite.

"Please," she sobbed.

And despite yourself, despite everything you felt for her and everything that had passed between you, you closed your arms around her, returning her hug.

"I won't," you said, squeezing her tight.

"Promise?" she sobbed.

"I promise," you said.

And if that settled her or not, if she believed you, you did mean it. Whatever this nightmare was, real or imagined, wouldn't claim her, not if you could help it. At least it meant she shook a little less, down from her violent tremours to infrequent shivers, the nails in your back gentling to a firm hug as her tears washed the front of your shirt.

"I'm all right,," she said, sniffing now instead of sobbing, "I'm all right now, I'm..."

She wiped her tears, then maybe remembering who you were and who she was, drew back from you as if you were a viper that might strike. She clutched the hands that had hugged you close to her chest, pale face growing awkward and suspicious.

"Alyssa," you said, then the tent flaps opened behind you, and strong hands grabbed you by your shoulders and the nape of your neck.

"Little bastard!" Ser Hobb said, dragging you out into the night, throwing you to the ground. You coughed as you laneded beside the dying camp fire, swirling up ash around you. "What are you doing, creeping into the young lady's tent, half naked and armed!"

He pressed his greater weight down on your back, squeezed your neck until you feared your neck might snap under his broad powerful hands.

"What's happened?" your father's voice, the whole family, the whole camp, alert and gathered, "Alyssa, are you well?"

"Get off me!" you bucked under Ser Hobb's grip, "I've done nothing!"

"A girl screams high murder and I find you in her tent? not bloody likely, bastard," he said, unreasoning.

"Alyssa, what's happened here?" her mother asked.

You couldn't see much but dirt, ash, and people's feet.

"Let the boy up, Hobb," your father said.

"If you've done more than frighten the girl, by all the gods," Ser Hobb said, but let you up without releasing his strong grip.
>>
The family, the whole camp, was gathered in the night outside Alyssa's tent. Your father had his sword drawn, ready to act. Lady Marisa stood in her thin night gown, dressing robe untied, hastily drawn on. She looked anxiously from you to the mouth of the tent, were Alyssa half looked out. Garth stood behind his mother, confused.

No one was sure what had happened, only that Alyssa had screamed and you'd been found in her tent by Ser Hobb.

"Tell me now, what happened here?" your father said, suspicious in a way you misliked.

"I had a nightmare," Alyssa said, "And when I woke..."

"You screamed from a nightmare?" her mother sounded unimpressed, even doubtful.

"I've been having nightmares," she said, ashamed of it, "These last few nights." Alyssa gave you a look you didn't understand, but there was shame and fear in her eyes.

"Edric was in your tent," your father said, "Is that right?"

"Is that the truth, or what he told you to say?" Lady Marisa said.

"Marisa, please," your father said.

Alyssa, bewildered, shook her head. "I don't understand," she said.

"You're a comley girl, Allie," Marisa said, "And a creature like him...must your bed be checked for maiden's blood?"

A look of horror came over your sister, hand upon her mouth. "Mother!" she said.

"Marisa!" your father said, disgusted by her words. Lady Marisa shot you a nasty look, that tightened Ser Hobb's grip on your neck.

"Is it so impossible," Lady Marisa said, her voice a sword edge, "A brother raping his sister?"

"Enough," father said in the voice of Lord Garlan Clover, "The girl had a nightmare, that is all. It's to Edric's credit he came when she screamed. Gods know he has been given little reason to care."

That was a slap across Lady Marisa's face.

"All is well!" your father called to his gathered servants, "Return to bed. There's no danger. My daughter had a bad dream. Forgive her for waking you. It is in hand!"

But if the servants retired, your father didn't, and brought both you and Alyssa closer.

"A dream was it?" he said, looking between you now as doubtful as Lady Marisa, "And that is the truth?"

"Yes," your sister said.

You nodded, still baffled by the accusation. To have her even suspect it of you, least of all say it aloud. To have it something she could imagine.

A brother raping his sister.

And now the doubt on your father's face.

"It's the truth," you said. As it was. You felt hot and strange, ugly inside.

The doubt gave to relief on his face.

"Get back to bed then," he said.

You shook but nodded. As you went you caught Alyssa's eye. She made a firm line of her mouth and nodded. It only occurred to you when you got to bed, that if she'd wanted to she could have lied. In some ways you were surprised she hadn't. She'd have been rid of you for good, her and her mother. If not dead then off to the Wall, if you were lucky.
>>
None talked about that night again. It sucked the joy from the next day and truthfully you slept poorly. You weren't the only one. Alyssa had taken to riding her horse rather than in the carriage, and she looked fey and tired, bruises under her eyes. You'd taken to sleeping just a little closer to her tent, and though she never screamed again as she had that night, she whimpered in her sleep, tossing and turning in her bedding.

Maybe it was fairplay for all the torment she had wrought on you over the years, but you took no pleasure from it. Well, maybe a small, bitter pleasure. She rode closer to you, taking seriously your promise to protect her.

Not that it had made her all that much nicer, though you found there was something strained in her insults.

"You'll last five minutes in the melee," she said after a morning skirmish with Gareth, "It'll be fun watching you get your crown broken. It might do some good, for your wits and your looks. You can't get dumber, or uglier. I bet you'll look stupid falling off your horse."

You past through a shady woodland. When your opened your mouth to return her insult with one of your own, a cry went up from the soldiers ahead.

"Ho! The Mander!"

Insults forgotten, you both looked ahead.

"Race you there!" she said, and set ankles to her horse, the mare launching into a gallop.

>answer her challenge, join in the race
>let her race ahead like a fool
>>
>>5502082
>>answer her challenge, join in the race
Is it finally time to roll?
>>
>>5502082
>>answer her challenge, join in the race
>>
>>5502053
Doesn't seem like it, really. Reacting differently to different situations is pretty normal

>>5502082

>answer her challenge, join in the race
>>
>>5502082
>>answer her challenge, join in the race
>>
>>5502082
>answer her challenge, join in the race
>>
>>5502082
>answer her challenge, join in the race
>>
all right, let's try out our dice system on a relatively harmless challenge.

this is a roll under system

flat DC 50

+10 because Edric is a better rider than Alyssa, though not monumentally better. And Alyssa is riding the better horse, putting a -5 to the DC.

making it DC 55

One success, partial success. Edric barely wins, arguable a tie.
Two successes, minor success. Edric wins fairly.
Three successes, full success. Edric soundly beats Alyssa.

A roll of 1 counts as a full success. A roll of 1 with the other two rolls also being successful counts as a critical success.
A roll of 100 negates one successes. A roll of 100 without any successes counts as a critical failure.

(if this doesn't end up working I reserve the right to change the rules later)

Please roll 3d100, one at a time. DC 55, roll under.
>>
Rolled 52 (1d100)

>>5502126
>>
Rolled 10 (1d100)

>>5502126
>>
Rolled 31 (1d100)

>>5502126
>>
>>5502133
>>5502130
>>5502128
full success!
>>
File: smug mace.jpg (14 KB, 480x360)
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>>5502136
WOO HOO THATS OUR BOY
>>
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She laughed as she heeled her horse to a gallop, no longer seeming so tired.

"Keep up, bastard!" she shouted over her shoulder, braid a whip behind her, horse kicking up dust.

The call of 'bastard' if nothing else had you heel Chestnut into flight. Ser Hobb swore after you, Ser Lincoln cheered you on with a whoop, but your attention was on the back of your sister. You'd be damned before you let a stripling brat like her beat you in a horse race.

Before long you were racing even, side-to-side, and you saw Alyssa's flushed grin, bent over the neck of her horse, bright eyes on the road ahead.

A lash of your reins and a short cry urged Chestnut ahead, and now it was her turn to swallow your dust.

"Keep up, true-born," you spat over your shoulder. A weak insult that, but it was hard to be spiteful when your horse was quick beneath you, the road good and flat, with the wind across your sweat coated face. It was hard to do anything but laugh, your sister cackling behind you.

She tried to gain ground but you steered Chestnut across her path, forcing her to slow, keeping your lead.

"No fair!" she called.

"Fairness is for princes and septons, not the bastard born!" you called back.

Your attention ahead on an eastward bend in the road, your father's men-at-arms looking back at you. And then off the road an on a bluff, overlooking the westward flow of the River Mander.

Chestnut huffed underneath you in effort, so you dismounted, patting the geldling on the haunch. The grat vast river flowed slowly before you, its distant bank a hilly rise turning into a shade of overarching trees. Down the river came a poled grain barge, its sailors on the deck, sailing down from still unseen Highgarden.

But coming up the river, fighting its slow moving tide, came noble river boats, sails emblazoned in the heraldry of their Houses.

In the west the Mander emptied into the Sunset Sea, and guarding that bay were the Shield Islands. A green hand on a yellow shield, bordered in green fire on a field of red. A fleet of longships on a grey green field. An oak shield studded with iron on a field of blue and white waves. A white rose on red, surrounded by white walls. Other houses. Three oak leaves on gold. A bull's skull on red.

You knew some and others not at all, Gareth would have been able to name everyone.

Alyssa stopped behind you, breathless. She dismounted, tucking back strands of loose hair behind her ears, cheeks pink and wind blown.
>>
"Pretty!" she said, marvelling at the great sweep of the river, the rolling fields both up and down it with dense forest besides.

Not the word you'd use. Grand more like. You could imagine this river ran forever.

"Oh!" she peered forward, shading her eyes to spy out the banners on the river craft. You feared she might tip forward down onto the muddy bank below.

"I see House Serry, House Bulwer," she said, "All the great houses of..."

Her voice trailed off, her face became pinched. You frowned to ask what was wrong but she pulled back to the side of horse, taking the mare's head in hand, hugging her, eyes cat like in fright.

You followed her frightened stare.

On one of the boats was a banner.

A red hand on black.
>>
(back tomorrow or the day after)
>>
>>5502165
>A red hand on black.
Nothing springs to mind. Might be an OC house or the like
>>
I admire stepmothers ability to think the absolute worst of Edric at any given momement. But she nay not worry since right now Edric before his viscious cunts more mature
>>
>>5502180
She's kinda like Catelyn on steroids.

also kinda enjoying Edrics mixed bag of emotions and feelings for his family.
>>
>>5502206
Edric hates them all and would gladly see them all suffer, yet that all seem to crumble the moment one of them show him the barest amount of affection. All Edric truely want is to be loved
>>
>>5502209
Hell no. Marisa, uncle and Hobb are on my shit list and I will vote to kill them if an opportunity presents itself.
Father and the fat little shit are on probation. Alessa is currently too useful to kill.
The twins and the wine guy are fine for now.
>>
>>5502214
Oh yeah, those two are going down i meant our siblings
>>
>>5502209
Yeah that was kind of my read, he clearly resents the current setup but craves affection thats largely been missing in his life.

>>5502214
I don't particularly agree on the clarity you give Edric at this point but Hobb and Marissa are definitely on the shit list, Alessa is in a weird spot to pin down.
>>
>>5502224
>pin down
But not for long dohohoho
>>
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>>5502371
>escape rape accusation
>make pin down joke
>>
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>>5502783
It's not rape if it's consensual.
>>
>>5502796
It is if one party or more is dornish.
>>
>>5502796
>Implying
>>
>>5502801
Good thing we're only half Dornish
>>
>>5502839
so it's only half rape?
>>
>>5502842
Exactly, it's molestation at worst
>>
>>5502850
Is that what a group of Dornishmen is called? A molestation?
>>
>>5502921
I mean in the Reach its called an infestation.
>>
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Alyssa spoke even less after that, retreating from her horse back to her mother's carriage. Despite your promise to protect her, you were not close, and whatever strange fear the sight of the red hand had provoked in her was kept closely guarded. You don't know why a dream would haunt her so. You'd heard stories of Targaryens who dreamed true dreams, but even those were just stories, more fables placed at the feet of the exotic dynasty that ruled the Seven Kingdoms. And your sister was certainly no Targaryen.

Girls of twelve were creatures of fancies and make believe, you decided. You didn't entirely believe it. No matter what the image of her terror returned to you, your usually bold younger sister reduced to a frightened beast in the back of her tent. You'd had plenty of nightmares, none had left you like that, not even as a small child left to cry out his fears alone wityh no parent to turn to for comfort.

Starting up the eastern road toward Highgarden, traffic on the Roseroad increased. Before you had passed farmers and other smallfolk in small bands, some led by a septon on a small pilgrimage. Now you saw men-at-arms with noble badges, guarding their lords and ladies in carriage not dissimilar to the one Lady Marisa rode in, while the sers rode strong chested chargers.

Of the devices you saw the hives of Beesbury and the burning Hightower, the sunflowers of House Cuy and the butterflies of Mullendore.

You only recognized House Hightower, even a lackwit from the North would know it, Gareth supplied the rest.

"Lord Tyrell is calling all his banners," the plump boy said, "You'd think it was for a war."

"In a way it is," Ser Lincoln said.

The three of you rode ahead of the others, down the last stretch of the Roseroad, the Mander flowing lazily beside it streaming in the opposite direction.

"Lord Tyrell is hosting a great tourney, but its just practice for the wedding tourney of Princess Daenerys. If all the greatest lancers of the Reach are here, all the greatest lancers of the realm will be at King's Landing. Lord Leo means to win in King's Landing, or for a reachman to win at least. It will tell all the seven kingdoms the greatest knights are from the Reach, and ride for Highgarden."

"The greatest knights 'are' from the Reach," you said, hot to defend your homeland.

Ser Lincoln laughed. "Mayhaps, but for the melee none can match the Baratheons of Storm's End or their bannermen. I'll leave the knightly tilts to you, we stormlanders are unmatched in a brawl."

Unmatched in their wine cups perhaps, you thought. You had little love for stormlanders, the people of your father's wife. You had little love for anyone, including reachers, but at least they were your people and you felt a defensive pride for them. The Reach was the land of Garth the Green, greatest of the kings of legend, High King of the First Men. Even the Starks of Winterfell claimed descent from him.
>>
Though Clover claimed no lineage so proud, unlike the Tarlys and the Hightowers and so many others. You were the descendant of road wardens, charged with defending the Roseroad since the seven kingdoms were counted one hundred, the only gift Garth ever gave your House a single rose on a Clover girl's tomb.

And that suited you fine. You didn't need to be the descendant of some king the Gardeners beat into line. Even the Tyrells, who had ruled these lands near two hundred years, had only been lowly stewards before Aegon the Conqueror had ended the Gardener line in a field of fire and raised them up in their place.

Though dragonfire was no more, still houses rose and fell by Targaryen hands. The deeds of ancient kings meant little against the ten thousand blades of the Iron Throne.

Your lord father made polite conversation with the other lords met on the road. Old Lord Beesbury lifted his head from his carriage, hair swept away to a fringe of white around a bald pate, his much younger wife looking out from behind him. A woman of House Hightower waved to Lady Marisa, who waved back just as enthusiastically. They wre of an age, maybe the Hightower girl was a little younger.

The knights spoke with knights, the ladies spoke with ladies. You fell in with the soldiers.

"Lord Leo will take it," a man of Beesbury said.

"Naw, it'll be our Hanson Cuy, best lancer in the south," a man of Cuy said loyaly.

"That boy don't know his lance from his cock," a Mullendore soldier said, "My money is on Byren Flowers."

"The bastard?" the Beesbury man said.

"Aye, and a mean bastard at that. Takes a mean bastard to win a tourney like this."

Closer on the next day and you saw the distant white walls of Highgarden gleaming in the sun, the great castle aside the sweeping River Mander. Behind the white walls rose slender white towers to watch over the country around the great castle. Before those great walls a field of tents had errupted like mushrooms after a hard rain, spread across green fields from the banks of the Mander to the edge of the forest. And closer you saw the golden gleam of the famous Highgarden roses, wild fields of them spreading across the hills, their perfume spread across the land so you could smell nought of sweat or the stink of horseflesh but that high sweet smell that spoke of romance and ballads.

Bees busy among the flowers scattered as your father rode into those rosefields to pluck a large blooming rose, riding back to the carriage to place it in Lady Marisa's hair. She blushed for her lord husband, took a kiss on the lips for all the servants to see.
>>
Hate coiled your guts at the sight of the perfect rose tucked into her dark hair, her broad face settled in a contented smile.

You put your sight back on Highcastle, your chest swelling with anticipation and a biting anxious excitement. The tents a spreading town in all the colours of the Reach and beyond. The smells reaching you through the perfume of roses, and the sounds of gathered humanity like a beehive beginning to swell in your ears.

"Edric," your father said, beckoning you to ride beside him.

"I have discussed it with Ser Hobb," he said, "You're to ride in the Squire's Melee."

Your heart may have burst in your chest.

"On one condition," he said, "You're to look out for your brother Gareth, ensure he comes to no harm, and if by chance you find yourselves the last two on the field, you must yield it to him. Understand?"

Your excitement dimmed.

"This tourney is more than just a chance to break some lances," your father said, "There is politics at play here. If Gareth could distinguish himself, it would bring some sun on our House. I need your promise on this."

His consideration of you was sober and deep.

> say: I'll do as you ask (lie)
> say: I'll do as you ask (true)
> say: I'll not do it, I'll not trade my honour for his
>>
(back tomorrow)
>>
>>5502942
> say: I'll protect him... but I won't yield to him. I'll not trade my honour for his.(true)

Protecting him is already bad but throwing the fight for him is a ridiculous request.
>>
>>5502942
Part of me want to agree and if we are the last ones in the field i want to beat Gareth to the ground and utterly crush him, only to yield in the final moment so we can showcase what a farce it is and make a mockery of it all. And we will keep our word
>>
>>5502952
That's pretty good. The only hitch is I think the referees would give the victory to us to stop the fight if we do that.
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>>5502942
> say: I'll not do it, I'll not trade my honour for his
>>
>>5502942
>> say: I'll do as you ask (lie)
Time to be a conniving bastard. Anything could happen in a chaotic melee. As long as it looks like we tried to protect him we are good.
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>>5502958
Just need to time it right, fight usually only ends when someone is unable to fight or yield
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>>5502962
Hmmm... alright. I'll back your idea, it has us participate while still maintaining our honour in it's own way by showcasing the dishonour of others. I suggest you and others do the same.

>>5502942
Change my vote from >>5502947 to >>5502952
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>>5502952
I am pretty sure it's been said that the moment someone falls to the ground they are out
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>>5502969
Well not literally, but you get my point. Remove any doubt who should actually have won that fight
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>>5502971
Alright but that would still be a lie since beating the kid up and protecting him are mutually exlusive
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>>5502975
Guess you got me there, ccould always just claim that father meant from other. Otherwise just use the (lie) option and do it as i suggested
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>>5502975
Don't really have to beat him up. Since he's so shit at fighting we can just run circles around him and the point is still conveyed.
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>>5502942
> say: I'll protect him... but I won't yield to him. I'll not trade my honour for his.(true)

>>5502952
you realize that would just reflect badly on the house and thus father (one of the only good ones)
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>>5502983
>you realize that would just reflect badly on the house and thus father (one of the only good ones)
He's a spineless coward for suggesting this so he deserves it. He wants us to throw the match, he should've been careful about what he wishes for.
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>>5502983
>you realize that would just reflect badly on the house and thus father (one of the only good ones)

Screw father for even making this request, he wish to humiliate us infront of the entire Reach for that little shit
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>>5502979
>>5502982
Well you do you anons I just don't see the point of doing it that way. We would sour the relationship with our family, get a bad rep with the lords of the realm and get absolutely nothing in return. No glory nothing.
It would be so much easier to just have him fall "by accident" and try to win the melee. The kid can barely sit in the saddle.
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>>5502989
Our family relation is already sour. But we can do what you suggested as Plan A and the one i suggested as Plan B
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>>5502992
Sure I guess. One way or another it's a lie,
Besides what's the point on making a write-in discussing what to do after we win when the melee is not yet won?
Who knows how it's going to turn out and how the dice will roll. We can decide on it once we are actually a winner. Maybe our brother won't even make it in the first place.
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>>5502942
>> say: I'll not do it, I'll not trade my honour for his
Doing so would reflect badly on him and us, it'd be tantamount to cheating if we were to fight his battles for him. And if we were on the opposing team from him there's little we could do to help him anyway. It'd be obvious to anyone that's skilled, which would be everyone here, that he's terrible at riding and fighting.
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>>5502985
>>5502986
Lmao, great minds truly think alike do they not?

>>5502989
> We would sour the relationship with our family
With who exactly? The only one of interest right now is our sister due to all the spooky bullshit. Everyone else will either not care or has it coming.

> Get a bad rep with the lords of the realm
How?

> get absolutely nothing in return. No glory nothing.
We would get both practice and glory. Yes we won't be declareed the winner but everyone will know the victory was ours.

> It would be so much easier to just have him fall "by accident" and try to win the melee.
Meh... I can see that getting us withdrawn from the game since the whole point of us being there is to help him.
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>>5502947
>support
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>>5502999
>With who exactly?
With all of them. Beating up your kid half-brother tends to upset your family members both in medieval and in modern society.
>How?
What do you mean how? It's a tournament hosted by the top guy in the Reach is it not? And you want to make a mockery out of it. Somehow I doubt he would be very pleased by it.
>We would get both practice and glory
Infamy and glory are not the same thing. What you are proposing to do will get us enemies for absolutely no gain.
>I can see that getting us withdrawn from the game
The point is to do that in the chaos of the melee. What you are proposing will be done in the open as a slap to the face to the one organising it.
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>>5502942
> say: I'll not do it, I'll not trade my honour for his
> Tell him: "I will not trade my honor for glory, no matter how much my heart yearns for it; for it would be a misdeed to all who participate in the tourney, if we are willing to degrade it with plots of false victory. Better that i not be a part of this event than paint my heart and consiousness black with the stains of ignobility that this agreement would cause. Better that my brother fall or arise, knowing that he did not have a hidden advantage that no one else had. To have him know, that if he either taste the sweet fruit of victory or bitter drink of defeat, it was by his own will, and no one elses, that he achieved it."
TL;DR: No
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>>5503006
> Beating up your kid half-brother tends to upset your family members both in medieval and in modern society.
Beting him up is not required.

> And you want to make a mockery out of it.
The one mocking it is our father, not us.

> Infamy and glory are not the same thing. What you are proposing to do will get us enemies for absolutely no gain.
See above.

> The point is to do that in the chaos of the melee.
And? The point is that if he's not in the melee then we serve no purpose in remaining there.
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>>5503015
Cool story anon
I am not going to argue with you
You can vote for whatever you want
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>>5503018
Aight mate, no need to get sassy.
>>
On one hand this is our father asking us, on the other hand I think even to Edric this smacks of Marisa, the kid is going to get destroyed even with our help and while I respect the desire to not let dad down why tether ourselves to a sinking ship?

prehaps the best thing to do is lie and let nature takes its course or even just point someone in his direction who's looking for a win
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>>5503025
How about telling it to our dad straight on that we are not okay with it?

He has seen that we actually care (in some capacity) for our brother and his ability to fight. We didn't like doing it, but we still tried to help him grow better. Telling our father that we aren't okay with this because it won't help our brother and that it would feel like a stain on our honour, should be enough to atleast make him understand, if not sway him to still having us participate.


Besides, i don't trust Hobb to not somehow fuck with our gear and experience an "accident" if we ever fought against our brother, no matter what we say/think.
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>>5502942
> say: I'll protect him... but I won't yield to him. I'll not trade my honour for his.(true)
Baka father, that's clearly TWO conditions
Of which one is acceptable, the other is not. This may be Edric's ticket into the tourney, but FUCK even potentially yielding to Gareth. Edric's spirit is not so broken.
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>>5502942
> say: I'll protect him... but I won't yield to him. I'll not trade my honour for his.(true)

>>5502952
>>5502958
Some sprite driven mf's
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>>5503032
>How about telling it to our dad straight on that we are not okay with it?
What if he then says "No melee for you"?
>Hobb
And how would he arrange it in a way where that accident wouldn't happen during us fighting anyone else? Remote detonator?
>>5503044
What's wrong with sprite? It's pretty tasty.
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>>5503046
He'd snipe us from a grassy gnoll. With a high yield anti personal rifle
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>>5503046
>What if he then says "No melee for you"?

Then that wll simply galvanize our character into seeing how shit of a dad he is. And our dad really is a negligent piece of shit. It can be excused that he wasn't there for us due to his obligations, but his inaction against his wifes verbal abuse and hobb's physical ones is inexcusable.

>And how would he arrange it in a way where that accident wouldn't happen during us fighting anyone else? Remote detonator?

He could cut one of the straps on our saddel during the breaks between fights. Add a concealed spike in our bros lance. Feed our horse something that will cause it to act erratic. There are many possibilities, no need for a remote detonator.
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>>5502942
>> say: I'll do as you ask (true)
>>
>>5502942
> say: I'll protect him... but I won't yield to him. I'll not trade my honour for his.(true)
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>>5503032
So my issue with that is when Garth obviously gets his shit kicked in and he knows we are not okay with being asked to and we didn't do anything about it we're going to be doublly in the dog house when Marissa comes bitching about it and since we'll have tried and likely failed to protect him we'll go down like a sack of bricks as well and then we've lost the rare opportunity to be something other than a bastard

also as he pointed out our participation hinges on saying yes in some capacity so we are kind of not in a position to say no if we want in.

>>5503055
Yeah dads a shit and his arbitary inaction is shit but his trueborn family has priority and our abuse is a small price to pay for not fighting a battle everyday with his own familyI want Hobb to eat a sword at some point
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>>5503078
>also as he pointed out our participation hinges on saying yes in some capacity so we are kind of not in a position to say no if we want in.

Do we even want to be in it? think about it. We gain near nothing by accepting our dads offer and even if a lord or some such spies us and thinks we are pretty cool, the culture of westeros stops of from taking advantage of that, no matter how much we would want to. In my opinion, we should just head east to essos, become a part of a mercenary group(or make one) and then bide our time amassing wealth and when civil war happens in westeros, we gather our forces and make the best of it.

yeah, i understand that our dad doesn't want a fight every single day, but just one sentence from him could solve it all: "I want one of our allies/church/hedge-knight to foster him". Boom, done, you don't have a problem anymore, your son gets sent away to a place where you know your family won't shit on him and you don't have to deal with any potential conflict between them. Hell, it might even hep him diplomatically/politically.
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>>5503090
>Your heart may have burst in your chest.
I think this indicates yes, call it pubscent ambition but its one of the few chances we can be even remotely out from under the oppression of the Bastard tag and until we're older and know how to navigate the world even slightly better thats the most we can aspire for.

>In my opinion, we should just head east to essos, become a part of a mercenary group(or make one) and then bide our time amassing wealth and when civil war happens in westeros, we gather our forces and make the best of it.
Cool you're jets my guy we're 13 and hardly the most clear thinking kid, theres a way before that and it shouldn't all be about the future personally I want to see where we land with our family before doing anything

>spoiler
This is why I want to lie as we can be seen as ostensiably doing as dad says (and gets him onside as a result) but also gives us the chance to distinguish ourselves without tying ourselves to Garths teethkicked fate and if anything might grab the attention of some knight who might want a squire or at least shows we can be worth something to the house.

I suspect he keeps us around as a lingering memento of our mother and just doesn't know or have the ability to pawn us off to rando knight that isnt in the household
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>>5502942
>say: I'll protect him... but I won't yield to him. I'll not trade my honour for his.(true)


Gareth is fucking 10, why is competing in a melee with 16, 17 year olds? We'll have a hard enough time holding our own, now we're adding protecting Gareth to our burdens. Does he realise what a farce it would be if fat 10 year old won? This is Mace making Willas compete to satisfy his ego tier bullshit, I hope Gareth gets a lance through his visor.
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>>5503111
supporting
>>5502942
> say: I'll do as you ask (lie)
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>>5503111
Ah shit, you got trips so i guess that means you won the argument!

On a more serious note, i can understand why you would want to lie and then see what happens from it, but as >>5503120
said; Gareth is fucking 10. What we do and say now will have a lasting impact on how he sees us and i think that if we lie to our dad and then backstab Gareth, the little shit will get told we lied and will remember we backstabbed him and hate us even more. Right now he just thinks we are an asshole who gives asshole advice, even though he understands we are trying to help him. So my hope would be, that by showing we aren't trying to upstage him and just want to help him, then he will get a better impression of us.

If that pisses on our dads wishes then too bad, he already showed he isn't a great dad. Even if i can understand his want to be near the son of his late beloved.
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>>5503142
Honestly I don't think good relations with Garth are worth much to Edric on a personal level compared to getting out from under the shitheel of the family for a day.
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>>5502942
>say: I'll do as you ask (true)

No good will come of lying, we're still only thirteen and need the protection of our Father. Winning the melee and yielding will win us familial goodwill and spectators will be under no illusions as to who the victor really is. Our brother will likely be shamed by us yielding.
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>>5503193
yes our brother that is all of 10 and probably doesn't know this is a setup.
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>>5503202
He wont care. Us getting beaten in the last round to him or yielding will just be seen as the natural order of things. Also this is clearly set up by stepmother. Ser Hobb is her knight as since he suggested this, it means she told him to do it.

if we do as told we will humiliate ourselves infront of the entire Reach and maybe even ruin our chances of finding a good knight to squire under. Our stepmother wins in every scenario.

Scenario 1) Gareth wins and gets the prize and we get humiliated. She wins.

Scenario 2) We dont enter. We ruin the entire trip for us and she gets to enjoy the fact that we can do nothing, even if it means Gareth get knocked out

Scenario 3) we lie and beat him in which case prove her right in everything and she will make Ser Hobb beat us.

Ser Hobb will also beat us in the other two scenarios but not as badly, just to make sure we remember our place
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>>5502942
>> say: I'll not do it, I'll not trade my honour for his
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>>5503273
Anon I think you missed where I say fucking lie and make it look like we tried but failed to protect him.
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>>5503280
Sorry, didnt mean to reply to you, just clicked on you to make the box appear and forgot to delete your number
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>>5503283
nice, always check you're final draft.
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>>5502942
>> say: I'll do as you ask (true)
>>
>>5502942
>say: I'll protect him... but I won't yield to him. I'll not trade my honour for his.(true)
>>
>>5502942
>> say: I'll not do it, I'll not trade my honour for his
There is so many things Edric could say on this : from how difficult the fight will already be on his own (without protecting our brother, imagine if we protect our brother while also fighting others), to the competition of the other participants and the fact it will be visible if we protect him. It will not go unoticed.
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>>5502942
>> say: I'll do as you ask (lie)
>>
>say: I'll protect him... but I won't yield to him. I'll not trade my honour for his.(true)
>>
>>5502942
>say: I'll do as you ask (lie)

I've made my case for it and I have to be elsewhere so here goes nothing.
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>>5502942
> say: I'll not do it, I'll not trade my honour for his
>You may have throw away your honour, but I won't throw away mine
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>>5503060
>I'll protect him but I will not yield to him, I'll leave if he and one other are the last ones standing. I'll not take part in a farce

I just want to fight man
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>>5502942
>say: I'll not do it, I'll not trade my honour for his
>>
I don't get why are father even invited us if he was just gonna pull this bullshite on us at the last second like a absolute... well coward at most.

Personally id just stay out of the tournament out of spite feels like no matter what we do we lose but by staying out of it we lose the least.
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>>5503722
>I don't get why are father even invited us if he was just gonna pull this bullshite on us at the last second like a absolute... well coward at most.

He does deserve to be called out for that, Ruining pretty much the happiest moment for Edric and an important one. Imagine your father asking you to flop your college application so your little brother can look better
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>>5503722
What do you mean? It makes complete sense from his perspective.

You have two sons. One is a martially-skilled bastard. The other is younger, unskilled, but legitimate. Using your bastard to aid your heir in the melee benefits both by giving your bastard public exposure and preventing your heir from getting utterly trashed. Letting your bastard compete with no strings attached alienates your wife. Not letting him compete squanders his talents and denies your heir a potential advantage.

Waiting until the last second is a bitch move to be sure, but the overall plan is sound.
>>
tallying the votes, this could take a second

(really love seeing a lot of discussion though)
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>>5503754
It aint a good plan cause it fails to keep into account how the actual bastard (us) would feel about it though even the most simple of empathetic foresight would of had him realize we would most likely not take this well. I don't know maybe he warped this into being a good thing from his perspective but he should of really thought this through more or at least not done it last minute.
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>>5502983
>>5503002
>>5503035
>>5503044
>>5503060
>>5503120
>>5503346
>>5503441
>say: I'll protect him... but I won't yield to him. I'll not trade my honour for his.(true)

>>5502959
>>5502997
>>5503276
>>5503388
>>5503522
>say: I'll not do it, I'll not trade my honour for his

>>5502960
>>5503127
>>5503409
>>5503442
>say: I'll do as you ask (lie)

>>5502952
>>5502958
>>5502965
>>5503058
>>5503193
>>5503307
> say: I'll do as you ask (true) (including the write-in where Edric still embarasses Gareth

unless I missed something, 'I'll protect him... but I won't yield to him' wins
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>>5503829
Edric father has something like that, a warped relation with his son. And he hasn't thought about possible future consequences (more than once. I mean Edric mom bones throw away tell us more than any words said by him with Edric), same for the rest of his family.
Afterall a bastard couldn't possibly become a real threath to his house could he ? Is just a lowly bastard ....
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>>5503888
I mean this is pre Blackfyre

The more its discussed the more I feel Dads ruling trait is his utter Arbitrariness towards his household save for the most serious situations which demand a response from him. (Hobb beating us badly, Alyssa's tent, step mom's worst outbursts)

Our only real saving graces are that we are basically a spare spare should the worst happen to our family and that we are kin with our lord father.

As for our mother remember she was a peasant from Dorne with no worth beyond what passed between her and our father which I am convinced was little more than a bed warmer until we came along
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>>5503988
>which I am convinced was little more than a bed warmer until we came along


He would not bury her in the Rosegarden as if she was the lady if she was just that. Think our father is a rather meek man

Considering our mother and the current lady. Our father seem to have a thing for willfull and domineering women and i think Edric has inherited, problem is. He takes after his mother more in his personality and feels chaffed.

I am suprised father hasnt called for a favour and sent us to another house to squire for one of their knights instead of keeping us at home, either he doesnt think much of the abuse and dont care or he cares too much to send us away and does the absolute worst in showing us affection, every single time.
>>
It stung, what he asked of you. It brought an urge to spit the sour taste in your mouth.

"I'll protect him...but I won't yield to him," you said, "I'll not trade my honour for his. My lord...father, I can't, and you can't demand it of me."

His expression stiffened.

"His honour is the honour of House Clover," your father said. And yours wasn't, he left unsaid. Gareth's honour was the honour of the family, a bastard's honour was his alone.

"If it comes to him and me, I'll do him no great injury," you said, "That's more than could be said for others, him being a boy of ten."

Your father sighed, massaged his temples, seeming caught in a trap.

"Very well," he said.

His concession surprised you, even relieved you, even as it added tension to his own face. You don't know if the plan for you to yield was his idea, but you suspected not. It seemed the plan of Lady Marisa, to turn your joy to shame, to make anything you did conditional.

"Gareth shouldn't even be fighting," you said, "It's not just he's young...father he has no wit for these things. He's clumsy on a horse and with a sword."

"He's the heir of House Clover, things are expected of him, as they are of me," he said, "Do you think I enjoy jousting? I've never cared for it, but I am a lord of the Reach, and there are expectations of a Reachman. We do much we mislike for duty, much we'd rather not do."

"You're a good boy, Edric," he said, "Better than we deserve. I want you to know, this...this was never the life I had meant for you. Your mother..." but he stopped there, his eyes afield, dark with trouble. He never spoke of your mother. This may be the most the two of you had spoken in years. He let out a great breath. "Anyroad, I'm glad you've shown such support to your siblings. Take care of them both while we're here. A tourney isn't just a tourney. Now is a time for you to go meet the children of the great houses of the Reach, to make friends with those who will be great lords in their own time."

"And try not to make any enemies," he said, "Or if you do, make sure they're the right ones."

Whatever that meant you couldn't be sure, but it ended the conversation. He rode ahead, smiling for the scowling face of a Tarly bannerman, the red giant striding across his chest.

A space of field was given over to House Clover to pitch their tent, but if you thought that meant you were free, your father disabused you of that.

"Go change into your best doublet, we go to meet our liege lord," he said, gathering the family, including you.

Lady Marisa was unhappy with it but said nothing.
>>
You all went to wash and change as best you could with what was provided. You changed from armour to a good grey and blue doublet, the red rose of House Clover on your breast. Gareth was dressed much the same, while both Alyssa and her mother wore dresses of blue and grey, Lady Marisa adding a red shawl about her shoulders, the golden rose still tucked among the dark ringlets of her hair. She took your father by the arm, the children forced to follow, walking through the tourney field toward the great white walls of Highgarden.

You passed the banners of Mullendore and Peake, Redwyne and Blackbar, your brother Gareth muttering their names as you walked by. Good Reach Houses. But also the banners of Penrose and Swann from the Stormlands, and the lion of House Lannister come down from the West. The land was busy with servants, the wind thick with the smell of roasting meat and spices. Jugglers juggled and acrobats contorted themselves for the amusement of the crowds, while a man with a long forked beard swallowed swords. More sights than you could take in as your father marched you down the road.

No great space was given to House Clover on your march to meet your liege.

When you came upon the outer wall of Highgarden it made the battlements of Rose Hall seem paltry, craning your neck back to see the top. The banner of House Tyrell, the golden rose on green, hung from those walls letting all know who ruled. Beneath those walls a great list had been raised, seats to sit hundreds assembled, with fenced standing ground for the smallfolk to watch from. The grass had already been flattened by knights at practice, the pitch turning sandy from the trampling hooves of armoured chargers. It was still empty save one such charger galloping its length, the knight getting its measure.

It broke from its circuit, galloping toward you.

The horse slowed to a trot, the rider dismounting, handing the reins to a page. The knight wore armour engraved with flower petals, inlain with gold and silver, his helmet crested with plumes of gold and green. He seemed a storybook character come to life. He was attended by a great number of pages and servants. Then when he stood before your father you noted how short he was, and when he removed his helmet there was a youthful, boyish face beneath it, bright in a grin.

"Garlan!" he said, handing the helmet aside to another page.

Lord Leo Tyrell, called the Longthorn, Lord of Highgarden, Lord Paramount of the Mander, Defender of the Marches, High Marshal of the Reach, Warden of the South.

He might be an age with Lady Marisa, if not younger.

"My lord," your father said. Lord Leo took your father in an embrace. He was more than a head shorter than your father, and slim as well. It was not what you expected for a man called 'the Longthorn'.
>>
"Did you bring it? Oh and how stands the Roseroad, my faithful road warden?" he cuffed your father with excitement, "Ah, and Lady Marisa! Truly the Rose of the Roseroad herself. Your beauty is famed from Highgarden to Old Town. Now I know why Lord Garlan avoids my court with so precious a treasure as you. I thought I knew who I would crown the queen of love and beauty, but now I'm not sure."

"Save your flirting for the maids, Leo," she said, though you thought she liked it much.

"I've brought it," your father said, "And my children too, all save the young twins. As to the roseroad, its as safe as ever."

He gestured to Lady Marisa who produced a slim case. Lord Tyrell took it, opened it, and from it produced a crown of red roses, Rose Hall roses, taken from the barrows.

"Now this will make a fine prize," Lord Tyrell said, "My thanks, Garlan. House Clover does me good honour."

"We serve, my lord," your father said, "But you should know the roses of my house represent something different to the golden roses of Highgarden. They are a symbol of grief and great mourning."

"As you say," Lord Tyrell said, unlistening, still caught on the rose crown in his hands.

"My children," your father said. Leo smiled brightly.

"Yes, a handsome group," he said, "This is little Alyssa? The image of her mother, already blooming into great beauty. I have a list of boys you must beware, girl, and if any should trouble you let me know, I'll have them carted off. And young Gareth. Quite the book reader I've heard. A maester without the chain. The Reach needs quick minds as much as quick swords. And this?"

He stopped at you, unsure what to make of you. He was only a little taller than you by height.

"A Dornish boy, but grey eyed, your bastard I take it? My lord father was killed by the Dornish when I was still in the crib."

You sucked in a breath, waiting for the malicious remark, the hateful look.

"What warriors they are!" he declared, "More were lost holding Dorne than conquering it, we fought like demons of the seven hells but we were driven out anyway, losing a king for good measure. By the Gods, I'll not want a Dornishman as my enemy!" He clapped your shoulder and grinned, as if there were no evil between you.

"My thanks for the crown, Garlan. I'll see you in the lists?" he asked.

"Indeed, sire," your father said.

"Good! Until then, enjoy yourselves!" he was done with you, and still grinning went to shake the hand of another bannerman come up to give leal greeting.

Your father visibly relaxed, smiled at his wife, who put hand to her chest, something like pride in her eyes.

"You heard your lord," your father said, "Go enjoy yourselves." He took his lady wife by the arm and they shared a secret smile.

Freedom then, at least for now.

>go find some entertainment to watch, a bard or bear-baiter
>do as your father had suggested, go meet the young sons of the noble houses
>stick with your siblings, you'd been tasked with protecting them
>>
>>5504008
>do as your father had suggested, go meet the young sons of the noble houses

>stick with your siblings, you'd been tasked with protecting them

I am sure we can do both ? Other wise i say
>do as your father had suggested, go meet the young sons of the noble houses

As that was is latest request

Lord Leo is 10/10. Must protect at all cost
>>
>>5504008
this >>5504011
>>
>>5504011
>support
Leo seems fine so far and looks like he holds good fighters in high regard from the conversation so could give us a way to at least have him look upon us favorably should we distinguish ourselves
>>
>>5504008
>stick with your siblings, you'd been tasked with protecting them
>>
>>5503995
Yeah see the thing is stepmom was able to exhume her and spread her bones on the hills which tastes of fickleness and arbitaryness to me even if he felt something for her at some point.

>I think Edric has inherited a fetish for strong free willed women
I mean if we go with the Incest angle sure but Edrics 13 I doubt he knows what gets him going more than Booba, maybe we'll learn more while in high garden at the very least I hope we will make friends outside our family.

>either he doesnt think much of the abuse and dont care or he cares too much to send us away.
Yeah he's kinda fickle with us, on one hand basically keeping us close and on the other not intervening in our abuse hell we're even a bit neglected really.

But hey this is all modern lensing
>>
>>5504008
>do as your father had suggested, go meet the young sons of the noble houses
>>
>>5504030

I get the feeling that he later reburied her in the hill and those roses he gave Lord Leo are actually from her burial place
>>
>>5504008
>do as your father had suggested, go meet the young sons of the noble houses
>>
>>5504038
if this turned out to be true I'd definitely respect him more. even if he still needs to grow a spine.
>>
>>5504008
>stick with your siblings, you'd been tasked with protecting them

Personally I don't want to stick to close to them but shadow them at a distance just to make sure there's no trouble.

Also lord leo seems pretty cool might want to keep him in mind for future.
>>
>>5504008
>stick with your siblings, you'd been tasked with protecting them
>do as your father had suggested, go meet the young sons of the noble houses
try to do both, but protecting siblings comes before making friends.
>>
>>5504038
I mean I'm glad I'm not the only one reading a personal inflection there but I'd like a concrete verification that that's what happened.

At the very least we can infer he did care for her now.
>>
>>5504008
>>do as your father had suggested, go meet the young sons of the noble houses
>>stick with your siblings, you'd been tasked with protecting them
Do both. If not allowed stick with siblings.
>>
>>5504078
+1
>>
>>5504078
>+1
>>
>>5504011
>>5504016
>>5504022
>>5504036
>>5504041

>>5504112
>>5504094
>>5504078
>>5504053
>>5504050
kind of an even split but most are a combination of both

hmm. I've got an idea.

okay, writing.
>>
>>5504118
Oh damn. I was gonna put in one for sticking with the siblings, but if you got an idea I'll let you roll with it.
>>
>>5504118
And I for meeting other lads. Hey maybe we can do both and meet other lads with the siblings? Say, we find a group of 4 or 5 lordlings, make initial introductions then mingle with whoever seems interested in talking to us while the others are still in earshot?
>>
So much to see, with more people in one place than you had ever imagined, it would be easy to get distracted. A woman in fool's motlery contorted herself into different letters for the amusement of a small crowd, limbs bending in impossible directions, the crowd spelling out the word. You saw a bear in iron shoes and an iron muzzle, claws cut down to blunt nubs, dance to a drummer's beat from foot to feet. More distantly you could see pits had been dug, with barking, growling dogs within, a crowd of men circling the pits, watching and cheering the blood sport. Stalls sold food and trinkets, hawkers calling out to passersby. A mummer's wagon had been set up, performers preparing to entertain a growing crowd of small folk.

More than just a chance to see knights compete in the lists, this had becoming a great gathering of the Reach, with smallfolk from far and wide joining their lords and take in the treats of the festival with as much wide eyed wonder as yourself. A septon lead a small band of smallfolk, the star of the seven stitched into their shirts, keeping together as a group under his gaze as they marvelled at all around them.

Sticking together would be a good idea. You hadn't forgotten your promise to Alyssa.

But you meant to take your father's advice as well, and meet the other noble sons of the Reach. It wouldn't be hard, it was easy enough to tell the high born from the low. Not that the smallfolk of the Reach were a threadbare group, many wore handsome tunics and fine vests, or plain but well cut gowns, but it was another thing to the sword swaggering men and silk clad high born ladies. And as a bastard you were somewhere between both groups.

"Shall we watch a mummer's farce?" Gareth asked his sister, not even considering you.

"Do as you like, melon," she said, eyes straying toward a group of noble boys standing around a stall selling Arbor wine. "I'm tired of the company of little boys and bastards." She said that without so much as a glance at either of you, and went over to the noble boys.

A Bulwer boy saw her coming with a smile, nudging a Peake boy and pointing. Both couldn't be older than fourteen.

You followed, misliking their smiles but recognizing their noble births.

"Hey, there's a pretty one," the Bulwer boy said, "House Clover? Aye, Lord Garlan's girl then. I hear your people grow roses, didn't know they grew pretty girls too."
>>
"Play the song a little louder, Hump, she might not understand your lyrics," the Peake boy said, "Try an introduction first. My name is Gormon, This is my friend, in theory at least, Humphrey Bulwer. And you are?"

"Interested in the red he's selling," Alyssa said, and smiling bought a cup of small wine.

"Gareth Clover," your brother said, "This is my sister Alyssa."

The boys ignored him.

"Alyssa, that's a pretty name," Gormon Peake said, "I could call you Lyssa if you'd like, and you could call me-"

"A little overbearing?" Alyssa said, hiding her smirk behind her cup.

The Peake boy tried to smile but it stuck a little with effort.

"Nice one Gormy," Humphrey said, "You're a real Garth Greenhand."

"I'm Alyssa, you can call me Allie if I like you, nothing if I don't," she said, offering her hand for them both to kiss. You looked away, preferring to be doing anything else than watch bumbling boys flirt with your brat of a sister.

"Your Dornish friend doesn't like us," Gormon said, seeing you look away, "Is this some sweetheart of yours?"

"A bastard of my father," Alyssa said, "Pay him no mind, I never do. He may wander off eventually."

"Ask and we'll see him off," Gormon said, more attention on her than you, "A young lady should enjoy the tourney without a boy clinging to her like a dag to a sheep." He was getting a little closer to hert, dag like himself. You'd guess he'd enjoyed more than a few cups of Arbor red at this point. But his offer widened Alyssa's eyes in a way you misliked, her smirk growing as she took another sip.

"Hmm, mayhap..." she said suggestively, glancing at you.

"Hear that, Dornish boy," Humphrey said, "On your way, the lady doesn't want your company."

"Alyssa," Gareth whined at her elbow. She settled back against the stall, swirling her drink, a terrible excitement entering her eyes as the two boys began to crowd you. She was trying to start her favourite game. Whatever promises you'd made, some things had yet to change.

"Walk on, Dornish bastard," Humphrey Bulwer said, "Or we'll walk you."

You glared at Alyssa, whose smile only deepened.

"Please, I'd hate to soil my doublet with a Dorne boys blood," Gormon said with a sour grin.

Anger throbbed in your neck, your fists bunched. You'd promised to look out for her.

>if it's to be a fight, you'll throw the first punch
>if it's to be a fight, let them start it
>forget this, Alyssa could look after herself
>>
>>5504161
>>if it's to be a fight, let them start it
We might still get in trouble but this way it will be a little better.
D they really want to embarass their families on the Lord Paramount's turney by getting in a fight with some bastard? Kids are so stupid.
>>
>>5504161
>if it's to be a fight, let them start it

>>5504165
>D they really want to embarass their families on the Lord Paramount's turney by getting in a fight with some bastard? Kids are so stupid.

It will just be seen as a brawl between boys, a bit of scrapped skin and wounded pride.

Except to our stepmother who will claim we tried to assassinate them while declaring ourselves King of the Reach naturally
>>
>>5504161
>if it's to be a fight, let them start it
I'm actually so game to fight these losers. Fuck Alyssa, I just want BLOOD. That said, let them start it to mitigate the heat which will inevitably follow this.
>>
>>5504161
>forget this, Alyssa could look after herself
Lol. Lmao. Get fucked. Literally. The sooner we're away from bipolar family the better. Go watch some knights practicing in the yard or something. Maybe we pick up a few tricks, maybe someone invites us for a spar. Either way, not interested in fighting for Alyssa. Fighting now would be making enemies of not only powerful future lords, but lords big on the Blackfyre side if we want to head that way after a time skip or two.
>>
>>5504161
>>forget this, Alyssa could look after herself
Flip them the Westerosi bid as we leave
>>
>>5504174
*bird
>>
>>5504161
>if it's to be a fight, let them start it
Crying in our boy's arms one night. Getting her rocks off by seeing him get jumped the next.
Bitches is Devious. She gets it from her mother.
But a promise is a promise and if worse comes to worst nobody will ever tell Edric he didn't try.
>>
>>5504170
>I'm actually so game to fight these losers. Fuck Alyssa, I just want BLOOD.
A man after my own heart. It's been too long without dice rolling I am having a withdrawal.
Either they chicken out or fight us. Win-win in my book.
>>
I am suspecting that getting Edric into fights is how Alyssa gets off.
>>
>>5504183
Getting Edric into fights is how I get off
>>
>>5504161
>if it's to be a fight, let them start it
>>
>>5504161
>if it's to be a fight, let them start it

We should keep our vow, but we are not her entertainment. If she makes them attack us, we should beat them up, after which we should tell her that we are here because we promised her protection and we take that seriously, but if she just wants to see us beate, then we will simply take it as us being dismissed until we are needed again.
>>
>>5504185
>Alyssa is actually a player and is picking every option that starts a fight
>>
>>5504177
>>5504183
>A fetish for watching her Dornish half-brother both beat the shit out of lads and get the shit beaten out of him
Hot ngl. Reminds me of an ex of mine who loved watching my amateur fights.
>>
>>5504161
>if it's to be a fight, let them start it
Alyssa is being a cunt but the chance to kick some dickheads' asses is too good to pass up, It'd be good practice too.
>>
>>5504183
Yup.
Picture it, her swirling her little cup of wine. Sipping on it with her legs crossed as Edric beats these boys bloody, or vice versa.
She probably gets off on the idea of having power over people. And it's probably why her dreams, something she has no control over, freak her out so much.
But this is me reading way into things. Maybe she's just a crazy sadist.
We'll see how shit plays out.
>>
If the 'let them start the fight' option wins anyway, use the dad's dialogue "Take care of them both while we're here." Take it up with Lord Clover if they don't want us tailing the kids, but we're not moving. Throw in a baiting warning if you really want them to fight:
>"Be careful, my young lords, 50,000 men of Westeros died trying to get Dornishmen to do things we didn't want to do."
>>
>>5504198
Yeah, remember her talk during the night about marrying that Tarly boy. She hated it, she hates being powerless. Getting on her brothers nerves and getting people to do what she wants is a great relief to her
>>
>>5504161
>if it's to be a fight, let them start it
3v1 we're going to get our ass handed to us I suspect but hey success is built on failure

>>5504183
Absolutely she started with teasing us and since we bit back this kinda feels like escalation.
>>
>>5504201
"Seven, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference."
She says as she sends another round of bakers' boys to beat up her brother.
>>
>>5504206
>3v1 we're going to get our ass handed to us I suspect but hey success is built on failure

They are have been drinking Arbor wine for a while now, it should even out and if there is one thing Edric knows, it fighting against multiple opponents, mostly in thanks to Alyssa
>>
>>5504209
even if inebreated weight of numbers is going to be a significant factor, but hey I'll see if I'm wrong.
>>
A bit of a Serpico-Farnese dynamic developing here, albeit with added mutual rancor.
>>
>>5504206
>3v1 we're going to get our ass handed to us
2v1, at least to start
>>
>>5504206
I doubt Gareth would be fighting, so it would be 2v1
>>
>>5504217
D-do you think Gareth would side with the two strangers trying to fuck his sister over his half brother?
>>
>>5504216
Huh my bad then, 2v1 is slightly better.
>>
>>5504206
>>5504214
Fighting against multiple opponents isn't as difficult as it may sound. If they have no coordination and you have more experience in fighting then you can kind of beat them one at a time. It's still not good mind you but it's not catastrophic.

>>5504216
>>5504217
Plus it's 2v1 and they're inebriated.

>>5504215
Now that you mention it, I can't unsee It.
>>
>>5504161
>>if it's to be a fight, let them start it
>>
>>5504183
Any proper Westerosi gets a little aroused at the site of beaten Dornishmen
>>
>if it's to be a fight, let them start it
seems the runaway winner

let's go get into a fight

Gormy gets first swing, but we'll get to that in a sec
>>
Btw
>>5504004
>"Anyroad
Are we sure Maester Munkun isn't Boggs under 7 proxies? I saw this word and instantly thought of it being very commonly used by Aurion Shryke in house Shryke quest. Suspicion intensifies.
>>
>>5504161
>if it's to be a fight, let them start it

One more stunt like that and Alyssa can protect herself from bloody hands on her own. Otherwise MC might be dead before that situation will happen.
Well fuck, I say we retract the promise after another stunt like that.
>>
"You going to walk away, Dornish bastard?" the Bulwer boy said, his breath foul with red wine.

You looked over to Alyssa, caught her eye a second. All your dark anger you put into that glare. Her smirk faltered, her lips on the rim of her cup, but something as dark answered as she stared back. Waiting.

How many times you'd seen that dark look glitter with terrible excitement that beat like a war drum.

You then looked back to the half-drunk boys.

This was going to happen. You were in your sister's snare. As inevitable as the tide, as undeniable as the will of the gods.

Fear spiced the thrill of oncoming violence.

But you wouldn't be the one to start it.

"He's not walking away," Gormon Peake said, "Mayhap he's stupid."

"He'll look stupider without any teeth," Humphrey Bulwer replied.

"No," you said, "Just stubborn. It's the Dornish in me. We're a stubborn people."

"A stinking, skulking, cowardly people," Gormon sneered with his sour breath heating your face.

"A people good at killing Westerosi men," you said, then added, "And fucking their women."

That was enough then, you knew it before Gormon did, had known it when Alyssa had hummed 'mayhap'. His fist came up.

-

Fight time!
Gormon takes the first swing. I'll roll for it in the next post.
Flat DC 50 for him to hit.
Gormon is drunk -5
Edric is tough, another -5
Edric is prepared, another -5
Gormon has to roll under 35DC to hurt Edric

Our participants have 4 wounds each

each successful blow knocks off a wound. In a fist fight knocking off four wounds knocks out your opponent.

if the fighter rolls a 1 it counts as a critical success, counting for three wounds. if the fighter rolls a 100 its a critical fail and detracts all other dice rolls in that exchange.

let's go
>>
Rolled 44, 61, 52 = 157 (3d100)

hope i'm rolling these right.

Gormon needs to roll 35 or under.

If Edric keeps his feet, you guys will have a counter attack lined up.
>>
Rolled 63, 16, 69 = 148 (3d100)

>>5504257
>>
No successes! Edric eats the punch like a champ.

Now you guys can roll for Edric

flat dc is 50
Gormon is drunk +5
Edric is prepared +5
Edric is tough +5

roll under DC65 off his post
>>
>>5504260
Ah crap, i was a bit too quick on the trigger.
>>
Rolled 25 (1d100)

>>5504263
>>
Rolled 44 (1d100)

>>5504263
Just bleed
>>
Rolled 88 (1d100)

>>5504263
>>
>>5504265
>>5504266
two success

Gormon is hurt!

writing up the exchange now.
>>
>>5504264
Yeah I don't know how Munkun wants to do it but its typically one roll
>>
Gormon's punch caught you in the chin.

Ser Hobb hit harder.

It turned your chin and no much else. The boiling in your blood, the pain spiked the thrill, and it all came out in a breathless gasp as you looked up into Gormon's face.

Your first blow caught the same spot on his chin. The Peake boy staggered back, dropping his cup. You caught his shirt and drove your forehead into his nose. It made you dizzy but also made a satisfying crunch.

"Stop it!" Gareth yelled, shouting starting up around you. But you couldn't hear it, your ears were buzzing as if with a great swarm of bees, your body thrumming with a hot, ugly thrill. You held on to Peake's shirt as he tried to back away, boxing his ear with your left hand to little effect but keeping him close, keeping him in your grip. Your knuckles stung, the stink of his breath was in your ear. you might go to the ground together you were so tangled up.

"Fucking Dornish bastard!" he cried, but through a broken nose it came out 'fugging 'orndish bashdard!'

You panted like a dog as you didn't let up.

But soon his friend Humphrey Bulwer was on you too.

-
Flat DC of 50

but Gormon is hurt -5
drunk for another -5
Edric is tough for another -5

keeping it at 35 DC

but Edric's bad luck is Humphrey jumping in.

2v1 is never great.

adding +15

so we're equalized at a flat 50 DC again

Humphrey and Gormon are both now fighting Edric
>>
Rolled 85, 98, 50 = 233 (3d100)

>>5504273
I figure I'll roll for Edric's opponent's just to keep these fights going a bit faster

rolling for Gormon and Humphrey
>>
Rolled 42 (1d100)

>>5504282
LETS GOOOO

>>5504285
I mean not how forgotten does it but hey if it works for you.

>98
SO CLOSE
>>
>>5504285
1 success, almost a critical fail

now you guys are rolling for Edric

the reverse is also more or less true, keeping the DC at 50

Edric needs to roll under 50. Any successes, if any, will be applied to Gormon first, then roll over to Humphrey

DC 50

roll off this post.
>>
Rolled 53 (1d100)

>>5504289
>>
Rolled 8 (1d100)

>>5504289
Get fucked
>>
Rolled 3 (1d100)

>>5504289
>>
Rolled 88 (1d100)

>>5504289
Let's see how this goes.
>>
>>5504291
>>5504292
>>5504290

Gormon is knocked out

Edric is hurt but not badly

writing it up
>>
Jesus Hobb really did hit harder in comparison
>>
>>5504293
Oof. Good thing I rolled so late.
>>
>KO'd his first opponent in two turns
Damn, Edric is one tough son of a bitch. Looks like that overwhelming martial focus is worth something after all.
>>
>>5504303
The rewards for having zero friends and zero hobbies
>>
>>5504303
We combat nerd
>No friends
>No GF
>family hates us
>no Hobbies
huh... I just realised venting our frustrations is going to be FUN little angry bastard with too much frustration is going to realise violence can be fun legal and acceptable.
>>
>>5504303
>Looks like that overwhelming martial focus is worth something after all.
That and a lot of practice partners, provided generously by his favorite sister.
>>
>>5504306
2v1 and 3v1 is just the natural state for Edric to fight in
>>
Humphrey's fist rocked the side of your head, scattering your wits. Now that hurt. Gormon tried to swing at you but you held him too close, and he didn't know how to fight in this range. You'd learned hard lessons from Ser Hobb, the hardest was to either get out of his reach or stick close to it, his punches often hurt less when you hugged close to him.

You'd had plenty of practice with boys your own size too.

You drove a fist into Gormon's side and he spat up some of that rich Arbor red, then stepping back drove a fist up into his chin that knocked the wits out of him, his body going stiff in the moment you knew meant he'd been knocked out.

You panted hard. Caught sight of Alyssa watching, biting her own lip as she dropped her wine cup, scampered up to a safe perch to watch, eyes wide and glittering.

Gods you hated her, damn your promise. Gods how you wanted her to see you knock down her champions, beat them, hurt them. Hurt them in her place. See what I can do? It was your evil thought. See what I could do to you? It was your darkest thought. Dark as the thoughts you had for her mother and her mother's tits.

Blood boiling, head throbbing, didn't know if you wanted to laugh or cry, just wanting to hurt someone.

Humphrey would do. The big Bulwer boy.

But he wasn't the only boy, as Gormon Peake groaned in the mud. Your eyes swiveled at the sight of the black and yellow of Beesbury, the gold tree of Goldengrove, the red apple of Fossoway. Noble boys come to defend their own.

"Fucking bastard," Humphrey said. Was it all he could say? Was it all the words these Andal bastards had? "Bastard born fucking bastard." It could be a song.

Four boys now, good noble boys. Good noble sons of good noble houses.

You'd have to apologize to your father. you don't think this was what he had in mind.

"Let's show this Dornish bastard," the Bulwer boy said.
-

4v1, and Edric with 1 wound.

let's make that +20.

Humphrey and his friends need to roll under 70

let's see how tough Edric really is

I'll roll in the next post
>>
Rolled 61, 41, 40 = 142 (3d100)

Good luck Edric

DC 70

three successes ends the fight
>>
>>5504310
R.I.P.
>>
>>5504310
Ouch 4v1 was too much. Well in reality it was a 5v1
>>
>>5504310
tough luck Edric

four on one is too much.

But you know what? He'll go down swinging

give me 3d100 dc 30
>>
Rolled 43 (1d100)

>>5504313
Sure why not
>>
Rolled 77 (1d100)

>>5504313
>>
Rolled 94 (1d100)

>>5504310
>5 v 1
Dishonorable cowards one and all the noblesons are

>>5504313
>>
Rolled 2 (1d100)

>>5504313
>>
Rolled 84 (1d100)

>>5504313
>>
>>5504314
>>5504315
>>5504316
Oof.
Just...oof.
>>
>>5504316
>>5504315
>>5504314
ah well, at least its just a fist fight

>>5504317
so close!

writing it up
>>
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>>5504314
>>5504315
>>5504316
It's so over
>>
>>5504322
I mean yeah, even before the rolls it was over.
Now we know our boy didn't even get one last lick in.
>>
damn I missed the last round, I think we can take pride in the 4v1 it took to take us down.
>>
>Edric gets ONE (1) win
>Three more guys jump him
Truly, the gods have it out for a Dornishman in the Reach
>>
>>5504330
yeah fuck the reach, all my dornish homies hate the reach.
>>
>>5504327
Yeah, losing a fight is never a good look, but I do like the precedent it sets
A 4v1 is tough, and it's not like our boy is a human weapon or something no matter how much we hype him up.
I feel like in other quests, he would be, and that's a big move from MM for not letting us have that just yet.

We'll either need to learn to simply be better or pick our battle better if we wanna keep being a stubborn bastard.

On the upside, at least Alyssa knows it's her fault if she gets taken by bloody hands in the night and Edric is too hurt to stop them.
>>
>>5504333
Tbqh we didn't choose a 4v1. Even I wouldn't have driven Edric to do that!
>>
>>5504333
I mean we're 13 there's time for that growth

If someone here has the bloody hands sigil I'm going to have a laughing fit
>>
>>5504336
no instead we choose a 2v1 against highborn lads who are almost certainly going to have the backing of their families when it comes to consequences as opposed to us a bastard who can only say dad said to look out for our siblings and frankly she said fuck off.
>>
>>5504337
>I mean we're 13 there's time for that growth
Sure, but I'm willing to stew in the teenage angst for a bit before we get our power fantasy lick back.
It's a neat vibe, if not slightly unpleasant.
Not something you get often.
>>
You put up your fists.

"Show me then," you said.

But these weren't baker boys or smallfolk farmers. They were highborn boys, trained by masters-at-arms and noble sers since they could first lift a sword. And you were hurt from Humphrey's haymaker.

They didn't give you time to catch your breath. And they hated you. Didn't even know you. Your pitch black hair and the skin that darkened so brown under the sun was enough. And the cry of bastard, that too. You put up a fight, caught a punch on your arm, threw a punch back, but when one grabbed you by the belly and tossed you to the dirt you knew it was over.

You'd been herebefore, among scuffling feet, vicious catcalls joining the blows raining down on your head, all you could do was try to keep them from kicking your brains out of your ear.

You didn't win every fight, no one did.

"Bastard!" humphrey spat.

Then a new voice.

"Whose a bastard?"

It came so jolly over the anger, and the beating slowed. You were left in the dirt, clutching your ribs, gasping in pain.

A boy, a tall boy in red with a golden lion on his chest came over smiling. A rough faced boy, with big boney cheeks and blond hair and a nose that had been squashed flat on his face.

"Stay out of this, Lannister," the Fossoway boy said.

"Lannister? Oh, right, the lion," the boy grinned, "Sorry, let's have a proper introduction. You must be....someone of some cunt house, I don't know. Really, if we're being honest I don't care. And that's another cunt house, and another cunt house. Wow, there's a lot of cunts in the Reach. Four boys of House Cunt. All right, I like this."

"Who the hell are you?" the Beesbury boy said.

"Me, I'm Harry Hill," he said, "A bastard, but not as much a bastard as the one behind you. That's Catling Storm."

They looked back and there was a girl behind them, tall and black haired, dressed like a boy. And she wore an axe at one hip, sword on the other. And a Baratheon stag on her chest.

"Are you fighting bastards or what?" Harry said, his jolly grin not once slipping, waiting for someone to do something.

Gormon Peake groaned beside you. You swallowed, then dribbled a thin stream of blood. The noble boys around you seemed uncertain about what to do.

Slowly they backed away, grabbing Gormy as they went. The Westerlands bastard ambled over, whistling.

He offered you his hand.

>take it, and thank him
>you can get yourself up
>>
>>5504341
>take it, and thank him

A friend and tomboy waifu
>>
>>5504341
>>take it, and thank him
"I'm putting together a team"
>>
>>5504341
>>you can get yourself up
Thank them anyway though.
>>
>>5504339
as am I, personally I'd give it 3 or 4 years before we start thinking clearer, teenagers think they know shit but they really don't.

on the note of power fantasy I can see Edric becoming a complete Tourney hound if not just a brawler.

>>5504341
>you can get yourself up
BASTARD GANG RISE UP!
>>
>>5504341
A flower a hill and a storm walked into a bar. The bartender cried "we dont serve bastards"
>>
>>5504341
>take it, and thank him
What's this? In exchange for starting an unwinnable fight for the sake of pride, Edric gets to join the Bastard Association of Westeros? BASED
>>
>>5504341
>>take it, and thank him
Hell yeah bastard gang
>>
>>5504341
>take it, and thank him
"So, are you assembling some kind of team?"
>>
>>5504341
>>take it, and thank him
I'm not sure this is what our father meant, but you take what you can get.
>>
>>5504352
Just need 4 more and we got a bastard for every kingdom
>>
I'll be back tomorrow. Hope you guys are having fun.
>>
>>5504355
very much so
>>
>>5504355
This fight was a riot
>>
>>5504341
>take it, and thank him
>>
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>>5504355
It's good stuff and by god Alyssa needs payback, I also look forward to learning about our new friends.

my only feedback right now is maybe tightening up the format of rolling, might save you some legwork when posting.
>>
>>5504341
>take it, and thank him
>>
We better start winning tourneys so we can show these trueborn toddlers their place
>>
>>5504341
ah yes we've contacted the underground bastard organization of Westeros
>>
>>5504341
>take it, and thank him
yes i would like to join the bastards associations
>>
>>5504349
>Starting
You what?
>>
>>5504341
Why must we fall victim to Alyssa's fetish for Monday Night Raw showdowns.
>>
>>5504504
What doesn't kill us makes us stronger
>>
Speaking of Alyssa, and our dear little brother as well by extension, I wonder if they went off somewhere or if they're just watching Edric hang out with the Junior Bastard Brigade.

If they have run off, we might need to go look for them. Alyssa is one thing, and seven knows she could use some time to...cool down, but Gareth might have gone running who knows where.

If not...we better watch what we say around these guys. Not that I don't trust bastard gang to be reliable, but if they're watching, there's no way anything said won't be relayed to the rest of our company in slightly worse, if not the worst, detail.
>>
>>5504581
I'm willing to bet cash Garth ran off to snitch to the parents or the closest authority, as for the bastard gang play it cool, y'know like a shitty teenager.
>>
>>5504585
>I'm willing to bet cash Garth ran off to snitch to the parents or the closest authority
I'm sure that's exactly what he would try to do.
Keyword try.
Pudgy boy seems utterly unreliable, and I have a bad feeling him getting any type of lost will only make things worse for Edric.

I'd say the same for Alyssa, but again she needs to cool off. Besides, she's probably fine getting around on her own even if leaving her unsupervised seems foolish after seeing exactly the type so shit she'd get up to on her own.
>>
>>5504599
Yeah he'll probably screw it up somehow but the boy knows houses like a good little lord so him landing in proximity to safety feels like a good bet since everyone's wearing House sigils here.

You've got a point about tracking them down and while I trust Garth to not find danger Alyssa's a whole other bag of fish and I'm not saying that because of her dream.
>>
>>5504627
>Bloody hands on bag of fish
Symbology intensifies
>>
>>5504504
lol
>>5504581
Alyssa might still watching us for "reasons", Garth could have run to our parents. Or maybe no, he might not care of the pretenders of our sister. They weren't even considering him at all when they started talking with Alyssa.
>>
>>5504581
Gareth shouted out to stop the fight, but whether it was directed at us or them is beyond me.
>>
So since sis is so safe she can start fights i am sure we can tell her that we consider our promise forfilled and go hang out with our new friends
>>
>>5505235
You just want to hit on the tomboy don't you?
>>
>>5505443
I am Alyssa incest route all the way. I am more interested to make friend with Harry, seems to be a right proper lad and it is important to still have our self-respect. This isnt a dating sim when bending back over to make someone happy works
>>
>>5505444
A fair point, Harry is who I am also more interested in making friends with.

I want that dumpster fire relationship we have with Alyssa its fun as a player
>>
Sorry for the lack of an update today! things kind of got past me.

I'll try to get a few updates out over the next couple of days before christmas really hits

For the last vote 'take his hand' is the clear winner.
>>
>>5505444
Is it really ASOIAF if there isnt any incest? Or really any grounded medieval fantasy for that matter.
>>
>>5505523
Its not a ASOIAF quest if its not at least flirted withthe exception being the pious boy from the vale quest
>>
You took it. He had a strong grip, grabbed you by the elbow to pull you up off the grass. The world wobbled before you but Harry got your arm over his shoulder. You were of a height though you thought he must be older, fifteen or sixteen, with soft blond whiskers on his cheeks.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"Edric," you said, woozy, "My brother..."

"Aye, all bastards are brothers of a kind," he said.

"No, my brother, my sister, father asked me to watch them."

"Ah," Hill said. He looked around.

Gareth was by Alyssa, who had hopped down from her perch now the excitement was over, and was following behind at a distances. You could hear her humming.

"You need a maester," it was the girl said that, Catling Storm. You looked up. She was tallish, for a girl, and must be of an age with Harry, around fifteen or so. She wore her hair cut short around the ears, you'd never seen a girl with hair cut so short. It framed a face pretty save for a nose bent in the bridge. You'd never seen a girl in men's dress before either, or carrying arms.

"My mother's brought hers," Harry Hill said, starting to walk you, your legs still somewhat useless, "We'll get you mended up."

"Four on one is no sort of fight," Catling said, "Pick your battles better next time."

"It was two to one to start," you said, head starting to throb, "I could have had them."

"Hmm," was the girl's reply as she walked beside you. It was Harry did the carrying as she kept watch.

You came to the pavillion with the Lannister lion flapping on a red banner out the front. Servants had brought up a princely tent, and a great big pig was roasting over a dug out firepit, the smell and crackle of the hog making your mouth water.

"So whose bastard are you?" Harry said. A servant came with a stool to seat you. "Thanks Denys, fetch Maester Petyr would you." You swallowed the taste of sick and blood in your mouth.

"Clover, Lord Garlan Clover," you said, "Of Rose Hall."

The pair of bastards had no idea who your father was. You looked again for your trueborn siblings. They'd followed, out of curiosity mayhaps, Gareth sticking close to Alyssa. They looked around the Lannister camp.

"You're a Lannister?" you asked.

"Shit no," Harry laughed, "My mother is Joy Westerling. She's around here someplace." Sure enough there was a woman of past forty in the camp, fleshy in a way nearly unpleasant being attended to by a tall blond stork of a man in Lannister red.

"The lions," you said.

"Oh those, my ser is Jaxon Lannister of the Lannisport Lannisters. I'm his squire, while he's bedding my mother at least. Trying to get his hands on her silver mine." As he said the blond stalk simpered over the fat woman, kissing her hand.

"Is that what they call it?" Catling said with a dry dark humour.

Soon a man of aging cast in maester's robe and chain came out, brought by a servant. Maester Petyr, you took it.
>>
"Now my broodish friend here is a Baratheon, Cassandra Baratheon is her mother that is, and she's a granddaughter to old Lord Royce of Storm's End. Her father, well, that's a question with no clear answer."

Storm and Hill. Good bastard names. You were a little jealous. Sometimes you wished you were a Storm, or a Hill, a Stone, even Sand. Better than 'Flowers'.

"Edric the trampled Flower," Harry said as the maester checked you over much the way Maester Wilard always did, perhaps with a touch more care.

"These cuts won't scar," Maester Petyr said, "And I have something to ease the swelling in your bruises."

"You're not the only bastard," Catling said, "Harry's been gathering them like truffles."

And you noticed then other boys and girls of various livery.

"A new one?" a girl came up, and you straightened up by instinct. She was golden as a Highgarden rose with pink in her cheeks and great green eyes that shone with a bright light, ten and six if you had to guess. She wore Tyrell green and gold and smelled of cut roses. "Oh you poor thing, what happened?" She near pushed the maester aside to take your chin and you blushed as much as your brown skin would allow.

She didn't come alone. There was a boy in the colours of House Penrose with her.

"He got into a fight with a Peake boy," your sister said.

"Then you must have been in the right!" the golden rose of a girl said.

"This is Linette Flowers," Harry said, "Who get you again?" he asked her.

"Eddard Vyrwel, master-at-arms to House Tyrell," she said, proudly at that.

"Right, Unwed Ned, they call him," Harry said, "On account of Fair Linette's mother."

"You little gossip Harry," Marys said with a teasing slap of her fingers.

"A better name than others have," Harry said, and his glance turned to Catling Storm for the barest of moments.

'Gathering bastards?' you thought. A strange thing to do.

"You said who your lord father is, who is your ser?" Catling asked, less curious and more getting your measure.

"No great knight," you said, the maester returning with his powders and wine, "Ser Hobb, of House Woodwright I think."

As you expected they'd never heard of him. You drained the maester's wine, the powder adding a bitter flavour.

"And you'll be entering the squire's melee?" Catling asked.

"I will," you said. The pair exchanged a look.

"Oh but look at the boy," Linette said, "Don't go conscripting him into your scheme while his wits are still muddled!"

You swallowed more wine, the pretty girl's sympathy and attention almost more than you could bear.

"I too will be fighting," Catling said, arms cross over her chest, "Lord Tyrell has granted me leave to enter, on respect for my mother's House."
>>
You'd never heard of a girl fighting in a tourney, not outside the bed fables of mystery knights who removed their jousting helms to reveal themselves to be a princess in disguise. Not a for real girl though. Catling Storm was certainly not what you would call a princess of a bed fable, not with her stern glare.

"I've been looking around for good fighters," Harry said, "Tough ones who aren't unpleasant company. I've a plan to win the melee, or at least level the field with those trueborn snots."

"Bastards all?" you asked.

The Penrose boy, who had remained silent until now, coughed. "Except for me, Joffrey Penrose. You can call me Joff."

"Aye, Joff's trueborn, but he's a bastard where it counts," Harry said, throwing the Penrose boy a wink. Joff grew a grin. "Plan is we'll fight together until everyone else is unhorsed, then see to each other. Let the best bastard win and all that."

You found it hard not to like Harry, just a little, and you liked next to no one.

"So what do you say, Edric," Harry said, "Care to join our Band of Bastards?"

You swallowed more wine. Harry stretched his hand out to you, his big cheeked face split in a grin.

>take his hand a second time, you liked the plan
>turn him down and say: sorry Harry, but I fight alone
>>
updates are going to be slow from here until after christmas. don't expect more than one a day, if that
>>
>>5505566
>>take his hand a second time, you liked the plan
Hell yeah bastard gang
>>
>>5505565
>Marys
whoops

(she was Marys in the draft but I realized it was too much like Marisa and changed it last minute to Linette)
>>
>>5505566
>>take his hand a second time, you liked the plan
>>
>>5505566
>>take his hand a second time, you liked the plan
yes
>>
>>5505566
>take his hand a second time, you liked the plan

Do inform them that we promised father to look after our brother in the melee. Even though a 10 year old has no place in it.

Seriously, even a 12 year old is stretching it.

Since we are all bastards here, we might even find someone to have a proper friendly sparring with druing the tourney, it is gonna last for a week atleast and a girl to practice our kissing with
>>
Also. I noticed that all of these bastards arent just bastards, but noble bastards, some even from very important houses. In rankings they are a step up from us who has one parent that is a commoner
>>
>>5505566
>take his hand a second time, you liked the plan
We should make a deal that Gareth is the last one unhorsed before we turn on each other, and it is done as carefully as possible. They're all bastards here, they know how it works with appeasing the 'trueborn' family.
>>
>>5505566
>>take his hand a second time, you liked the plan
You son of a bitch I'm in, cept that Penrose boy I don't trust him to not snitch.

man if this is precipitating what I think it is we're screwed
>>
>>5505583
Can I get a 1-10 on that? Regardless of severity, bring it.
>>
>>5505585
My guess is that they are the blood hand
>>
>>5505585
This gathering of Bastards and the plan to win the melee forshadows the Blackfyre rebellion which was started by Daemon Blackfyre and had lots of bastards flock to his cause, the rebellion was largely put to rest when Bloodraven another Targ bastard who sided with the crown and unceremoniously got Daemon killed

TLDR: any snitches should get stitches

>>5505587
someone here is and oh boy thats going to be interesting when it comes up
>>
>>5505588
Penrose is the expy for Osgrey ?
>>
>>5505588
Damm, didn't expect a 12 and so early on top of that. The 7 truly have no mercy for the bastards.
>>
What are you guys even talking about? The Blackfyre rebellion starts in 196 and we are currently only at 187.
>>
>>5505589
I mean I wouldn't say this forshadowing is 1/1 but if I had to commit an answer I'd say bloodraven

>>5505591
>>5505592
Its more that it shows an emerging trend among bastards to find strength in numbers and not only actively put up a fight but also potentially win.
>>
>>5505594
Ok but why are we screwed exactly? I was gonna vote for Edric to join the rebellion regardless.
>>
>>5505566
>>take his hand a second time, you liked the plan
Who are we guessing is the snitch?

Also who are the stand-ins for the great bastards? Harry is Daemon, Catling is Bittersteel, Linette is Shiera? Joff gives me Bloodraven vibes (the little traitor). Who is Edric in this equation?
>>
So Harry is the charismatic noble bastard gathering bastards from all across the land like Daemon.

And Edric is the moody angry shit that is really good at hitting things, good god we are Bittersteel
>>
>>5505595
well okay I have to admit that part is conjecture on my part since it would rely on [spoilers]Groups like this forming the nuculeas of the rebellion to come and that we as a particularly aggrieved bastard would find such a cause appealing particularly if Harry hill becomes a long time friend[/spoiler]

Its like the start of the warriors but Cyrus gets halfway through the plan before getting sniped on the grassy knoll.

>>5505597
>Edric Bitterflower
Hmmm might need work
>>
>>5505566
>>take his hand a second time, you liked the plan
>>
>>5505566
>take his hand a second time, you liked the plan
>>
>>5505566
>take his hand a second time, you liked the plan
>tell them about your conflict of interest regarding your true-born brother

This is precisely the type of situation I was afraid of.
We're over here making deals with this group of cool guy bastards, and our true-born siblings are potentially watching along. Ready to report anything back to our parents and cause trouble for us.
>>
>>5505566
>take his hand a second time, you liked the plan
>tell them about your conflict of interest regarding your true-born brother
>>
>>5505653
Yeah that's a good point, I'll change my vote >>5505583 to

>take his hand a second time, you liked the plan
>tell them about your conflict of interest regarding your true-born brother
>>
>>5505653
>Support
>>
What conflict of interests are you guys even talking about? Edric promised to protect his brother until he gets into finals and our new friends want to do exactly the same thing.
There is no conflict of interests there. Edric told them that Gareth is his brother and also present so it's obvious that if Edric is in they are both in.
>>
>>5505718
>Edric promised to protect his brother until he gets into finals.
The deal was that Edric would protect him for as long as possible but we won't yield to him.
This does not take into account our siding with another group over Gareth.

Given the tasks, we've been given, if we don't tell both parties what's what...
>We'll end up helping the bastards at the expense of our brother's placement in the melee.
Or
>We'll end up helping at the expense of our fellow bastards.
Surely you see how this is a conflict of interest we need to inform them of if we wanna move forward.

And even if you don't, it's still good to tell them about it, either way. Maybe they can help us out and look out for the brat, or betray us by showing off their true colors but also taking the burden off our backs.

We have nothing to lose either way if we're gonna go ahead and help them out.
Honesty is the best policy and all that.
>>
>>5505749
Bastards want to help each other out until it's noone but them at which point they will fight each other.
If Edric and by extension Gareth were to become a part of that deal then there would be nothing stopping Edric from protecting Gareth and aiding other bastards at the same time since both Gareth and the bastards wold be a part of the same defensive pact. Naturally when it comes to the finals the defensive pact would be complete and Edric would be defending only Gareth and himself. There is no conflict of interests there.
I agree that telling bastards about this would be prudent but I disagree that there is some sort of incompatibility between Edric's promise and his agreement with the bastards.
>>
I'll add the
>tell them about your conflict of interest regarding your true-born brother
To my vote here >>5505580 though I already advocated for some kind of deal not in so many words.
>>
>>5505566
>>turn him down and say: sorry Harry, but I fight alone
>>
>>5505566
>>take his hand a second time, you liked the plan
>>tell them about your conflict of interest regarding your true-born brother
>>
>>5505566
>>tell them about your conflict of interest regarding your true-born brother
>>
>>5505798
>support
>>
>>5505598
Edric Thorn? Lots of flowers, roses especially, have thorns. Maybe a poisonous flower instead, like Nightshade or Hemlock? Keeps with the flower theme but makes it a bit more... sinister. Edric Hemlock of the two has the better ring to it.
>>
>>5505566
>>take his hand a second time, you liked the plan
>Tell him about the deal you made with your father
If they refuse to take it into account, then
>turn him down and say: sorry Harry, but I fight alone
>>
>>5506027
those names are both based af, but house Thorne is already a thing.
>>
>>5506027
Nightshade if we go full edge
Hemlock if not.and I agree, edric Hemlock and house Hemlock sound much better than edrix nightshade or house nightshade
>>
>>5506027
Bitterbloom would be nice if we really want to make the parallels to Aegor blatant.
>>
>>5506089
Could always go in the other direction and ignore any flower or plant theme and instead name our house in line with our mother.

Eric Bones
>>
>>5506106
Or as Alyssa would call him, Edric Dead-Whore

Accepting Harry's offer wins, with a caveat.

writing up now
>>
>>5506118
That got a hearty chortle from me
>>
>>5506070
They don't live nearby and their livery doesn't even take advantage of the name, so fuck 'em.
>>
You took his hand a second time.

"Add another bastard to your list," you said, "Though you should know, my lord father asked me to protect my little trueborn brother in the melee, see he comes to little harm."

"We'll make a bodyguard for him then," Harry said, "Then tip him off his horse when the rest of the trueborn are dealt with."

You grinned. "I suppose that will do."

Harry laughed and clapped his knee.

The fuzziness in your head was beginning to clear, the world was getting right-wise again. The wine and whatever the maester had put in it was helping, but so was the company.

Harry introduced you to the others. Along with Catling Storm and Joffrey Penrose, he'd recruited Timmet Flowers, brother to Linette and called 'Tim', and Roderick Flowers, called Black Roddy, a Florent bastard with the Florent jug ears but a Summer Islander's dark skin and tight coily hair. They were all an age with you or a little older. Joffrey Penrose had his brother with him, Beric, but the boy was Gareth's age and unlike your father his own thought him too young for melees.

Gareth at least had found a trueborn playmate.

The center of most their attention was Linette, and to be sure she moved with such natural grace it was hard to keep your eyes off her, though your sister Alyssa didn't go unnoticed.

"Your mother and mine are old friends," Joff said to her, "Maybe I'll see you around the tourney?"

"Mayhap," Alyssa said. He smiled, and you felt an urge to intervene. And you didn't know if it was to spare Joff Alyssa's poisonous clutches, or to knock the smile off his face. But she went for Joff to you, standing above you with a smug little smirk as the last of the throbbing left your head.

"Well this is an interesting gang you've found yourself in," she said, "Though I'm sure father won't appreciate how you met such company." Her malice was almost playful. "Brawling with the heir to Starpike. A fine look for a bastard. I wonder what his lord father will say to ours when he sees what you did to his son."

"Like I give a damn," you muttered.

"Listen up bastards!" Harry called, "The squire's melee is in three days! Now I know some of you better than others, but I say we spend at least part of these three days training. Learn to ride together, learn to fight together."

"And how are you supposed to do that when you're supposed to be keeping on eye on Gareth and me?" Alyssa murmurred, already plotting a way to spoil this for you.

"Now I know that sounds like a lot of work when you all want to go play, but think of the glory," he said, "Take a bruise or a black eye, and wear it like a badge of honour for the rest of the tourney. Wear your lady's favour and make it worth something. And if you win, you'll have a prize from Lord Tyrell. Maybe more. The Blackfyre was a boy of twelve when he won a squire's melee, and had a knighthood from it."

You saw Catling Storm tense at that. For a girl like her she doubtless had the most to prove.
>>
"You all know the rules, knock the boy off his horse or force him to yield. But when it comes to the last two, and you knock him down, he has the right to continue the fight on foot. I like all of you, more or less, but I'll tell you, if I'm knocked down I'll not surrender until I've no other choice," Harry said, "They'll need to drag me out of the mud."

"The mud suits you, Harry, its about where you belong," Joff said to Harry's laugh.

"All I ask is you fight like a demon of the seven hells," Harry said, "Is that really expecting too much?"

"Mother won't like this at all," Alyssa hummed.

"Of all Houses we bastards share the largest, and whether you call yourself Flowers or Storm, Snow or Rivers, I'll call you brother," Harry said, "And if any one of us wins," he said, "Whichever one it is, why that's as if all of us won."

"You're the ugliest brother I ever had," Black Roddy said, for all the others' laughter.

You swallowed on something, a hot, uncomfortable emotion. The bastards came to get your measure, and check on you too. None cared that you were Dornish, not even Joffrey Penrose though his family had better reason than most. Even with Gareth, they tossled his hair until the boy puffed up with anger, and laughed at his stormy look, his mouth puckered like a cat anus, but he was welcome in their company no matter how little he liked it or how trueborn he was.

Three days until you'd ride together into your first real tourney. Three days until a chance at glory.

"Shall I have your favour?" Joff asked Alyssa with a hopeful grin.

"Hmm, let me think on it," she teased, and for whatever reason glanced to you. What mischief did she have planned?

The day was shortening, the clash of steel rang out as Tim Flowers trained with Roddy, Catling showing Joff some wrestling, taking one another by the neck in a game of push and pull.

"You're welcome to stay for dinner," Harry said, "My mum's having a couple of Florents around to talk some kind of trade investment. Everyone's after her silver. It'll be boring, so I could use the company."

"Father's expecting us back soon, with guests of his own," Alyssa said, "If you're not there he might get wroth."

Harry gave your sister a look like he'd rather she was somewhere else.

>take Harry's offer, a chance to get away from your family was welcome
>as much as you hate it, Alyssa is right, you didn't want to press your luck with father
>>
(back tomorrow)
>>
>>5506220
>>as much as you hate it, Alyssa is right, you didn't want to press your luck with father
>>
>>5506220

>take Harry's offer, a chance to get away from your family was welcome

We are making connections like father asked us to and things are so safe that Alyssa can start fights. I am sure they can make it back to the tents in one piece. Not exactly the Dornish mountains they have to travel through
>>
>>5506220
>as much as you hate it, Alyssa is right, you didn't want to press your luck with father
>>
>>5506232
If those trueborn shits does show up to cause a fuss with their fathers, i'd rather we be in company with Harry and friends to back us up. Much easier to defend our actions if someone more important can speak for rather than just being a lone bastard back at our own tent
>>
>>5506220
>take Harry's offer, a chance to get away from your family was welcome
Making connections!
>>
>>5506220
>as much as you hate it, Alyssa is right, you didn't want to press your luck with father
>>
>>5506220
>take Harry's offer, a chance to get away from your family was welcome
>>
>>5506220
>>as much as you hate it, Alyssa is right, you didn't want to press your luck with father
We've thinned that particular patch of ice enough for one day.
>>
>>5506220
>take Harry's offer, a chance to get away from your family was welcome
>Still scared of the bloody hands Alyssa? You can always join us instead
>>
>>5506247
Good suggestion, if she is so scared we are sure that she is welcome to join
>>
>>5506220
>take Harry's offer, a chance to get away from your family was welcome
>>
>>5506220
>>as much as you hate it, Alyssa is right, you didn't want to press your luck with father
Don't run our luck dry by trying to make this slide with technicalities.
We're already gonna be in trouble for brawls and I doubt the Lady Marisa will like the idea of us keeping her children around such company or having them walk back on their own as it's getting late so we can stay.
I know it's tempting, but really, we gotta go.
>>
>>5506232
+1
Alyssa can stay with the family. Theres no harm in a little social interaction
>>
>>5506247
>>5506248
Making Alyssa (and Gareth) stay would anger Father and Marisa even more, if he has guests coming over he would want to present his children.

>>5506220
>as much as you hate it, Alyssa is right, you didn't want to press your luck with father
Say: Mayhaps tomorrow? And ask leave from Father tomorrow morning for 3 days of practice.
>>
>>5506220
>as much as you hate it, Alyssa is right, you didn't want to press your luck with father
>>
>>5506248
>>5506263
It was not meant to be an actual suggestion, just to annoy her.
A little payback for the shit she just pulled, after we promised to protect her.
>>
>>5506220
>>take Harry's offer, a chance to get away from your family was welcome

I am halfway tempted to drag Alyssa somewhere quiet and threaten her with very real and intimate violence if she snitches but I'm not sure if that would exacerbate or quell her bullshit.

And based Harry has picked up on her shit

and ultimately as others have said we are networking like father wanted AND we're the bastard we're the lowest priority for attending dinner.
>>
>>5506220
>take Harry's offer, a chance to get away from your family was welcome

he did tell us to socialize, plus anything to get around from our bitch step mom
>>
>>5506220
>as much as you hate it, Alyssa is right, you didn't want to press your luck with father
We did what we came to do
Let's not squander our melee pass
>>
>>5506337
No one is gonna care if we dont show up, only that Gareth and Alyssa does
>>
>>5506220
>>take Harry's offer, a chance to get away from your family was welcome
However...
>Escort the family back first. The household guards and knights and whatnot can protect them there, and then you get some time to yourself.
>>
>>5506348
Marisa is going to use every opportunity to complicate Edric's life.
We might already be in trouble for getting into a fight.
There is still 3 days ahead of us to train and bond with our bros. Let's assess the situation first.
>>
Fine fine I will switch from >>5506337
to supporting >>5506355
Let's see how it goes
>>
>>5506220
>as much as you hate it, Alyssa is right, you didn't want to press your luck with father
You guys are really cruisin for a bruisin. More than Edric already has anyway.
Besides, we don't even know if this dinner will be so bad. We might meet someone interesting or learn something important for the future.
Father expects us today, but that doesn't mean we can't stay for the bastard's dinner tomorrow or the next day.
For all we know, father is only having dinner with this group once, while we know the bastards will be here waiting.
>>
>>5506263
+1
>>
>>5506348
>No one is gonna care if we don't show up, only that Gareth and Alyssa does
We literally don't know this for sure.
There's a high chance that this will be the case, but you never know.
Sure, the likes of Lady Marisa would have us gladly excluded from any important family happenings or social events, but is that really what we want?

Do we really wanna allow Edric to be pushed to the side like a limpet.
Or demand with our presence and our actions that we have a place in the family by giving our father more reasons to stand up for us than he has to stand down.

It's a shame he needs convincing at all, but it's simply how things are.
We can give up the ghost and turn our back on everything or we can fight.

Many seem to wanna run as soon as possible, but I feel like fighting.
>>
>>5506393
No one is running from anything, Edric just for the first time in his life having a good time
>>
>>5506405
>No one is running from anything
Good.
>Edric just for the first time in his life having a good time
I'm glad. But he has a job to do and obligations beside.
There will be plenty of time to get to know all the bastard gang and have a good time tomorrow during training and such.
>>
>>5506220
>>as much as you hate it, Alyssa is right, you didn't want to press your luck with father
>>
you know what I think I will do another update today.

>go back to the Clover camp:
>>5506227
>>5506238
>>5506244
>>5506246
>>5506260
>>5506263
>>5506267
>>5506337
>>5506376
>>5506379
>>5506415
>stay at the Lannister-Westerling camp:
>>5506232
>>5506243
>>5506245
>>5506247
>>5506253
>>5506261
>>5506279
>>5506331
>>5506355
>>5506360

tallying the votes I think

>as much as you hate it, Alyssa is right, you didn't want to press your luck with father

is a slim win of one.
>>
>>5506427
Well alright. That's probably for the best.
>>
We are already in the shit because of course the blame for the fight is going to be on the Bastard and not the heir to another House, hell not being around for the immediate fallout to come might be the better thing.
>>
>>5506427
sorry, nope, actually I think I miscounted and its a tie, forgot to deduct a changed vote from the 'go back to the Clover camp' column

so its a dead even split

should I leave the vote window open a bit or what? what's a good way to resolve a tie?
>>
>>5506433
I will switch in that case
>>
>>5506433
that or first roll under/above 50DC and leave it to the dice gods?
>>
>>5506433
I will just change my vote to
>as much as you hate it, Alyssa is right, you didn't want to press your luck with father

And ask dad for a 3 day leave to spend with harry and the guys
>>
>>5506437
>>5506434
I guess that resolves it

>>5506435
Maybe if its a real deadlock and no one's willing to switch votes
>>
As much as you hate to admit it, Alyssa was right, and you didn't want to press your luck.

"Mayhap tomorrow," you said, "I'll see you for training at the very least."

"Well met either way, Edric Flowers," he said.

"You too Harry Hill."

You clasped hands before departing.

Gathering up Gareth you started for the Clover camp as the shadows of the tents around you grew long, the sky darkening to a shade of pink. Gareth was near waylaid by a relic seller offering the finger bones of Symeon Star-Eyes, but you grabbed him by the sleeve, continuing him on.

"You know sister," you said, "For someone who was so desperate for my protection, you sure do have a mean way of showing your thanks."

Alyssa gave you a sour look. "Are you still upset about that Peake boy and his Bulwer friend?" she said, as if it were a thing of weeks past and not even a day, "I didn't ask him to do anything."

She had that way about her, of avoiding any responsibility for it, and from a certain point of view she wasn't wrong. Her orders were rarely explicit even if the result was the same.

"Boys are stupid and like to fight, how is that my fault?"

'All seven gods save me from her, and may the Stranger take her too,' you thought. Mayhap you'd let this Bloody Hands take her, whoever the phantom might be.

Back at the camp a table had been set with torches for light, servants setting platters of food. Honey glazed pork and roasted apples, with chicken pan seared and hot with Dornish spices. A bottle of Arbor red. Father was expecting company, real company.

Lady Marisa took the three of you in, her eyebrow raising at the sight of your bruised face and dirty tunic.

"Go clean and change into something presentable," she ordered, "My lord husband has seen fit to let you dine with us tonight."

A rare, very rare, privilege.

"Alyssa, follow me."

Lady Marisa was never warm to you but there was something unusually cold about her tonight. Had something happened? You found out some source of her attitude when you saw Ser Lincoln lying half drunk outside his tent, slouched back on a saddle for a pillow, jug of cheap wine in his lap. He seemed barely awake, and gave you a miserable smile as you passed into your tent.

You washed off your face and rinsed out your hair, changing into a doublet in your house colours. Your tunic had been torn on the shoulder, you'd not noticed until now, and there was grass and bloodstains on the chest, not all of it yours. Nothing couldn't be mended. you'd stitch it up later before bed.

At least your head was clear, even if your face had looked better. You went over your teeth with a cleaning rag and pick, before heading out to see what company had arrived.

Waiting, talking with your father, were two men and a large boy. You'd met them, though didn't know them well.
>>
Lord Harlon Tarly, his eldest son Samwyle, and younger boy Samwyck, your sister's betrothed. They were all of a type, big men with big shoulders. Samwyck had a big belly to go with it, and was tall enough you'd think he was older than ten and five. None of them smiled or showed much interest in the company of House Clover, with Lord Harlon weighing all around him with the disgruntled attitude of a tax collector thinking he was being cheated.

Your trueborn siblings were produced alongside Lady Marisa, Alyssa in a soft grey dress even you had to admit flattered her. Now there was a spark of interest in Samwyck at least.

"My Lord Tarly," Lady Marisa said.

He grunted in reply.

"You remember our son Gareth," Garlan said, "He'll be fighting in the Squire's Melee with your boy Samwyck."

"I'll ask him to go easy on the boy," Lord Tarly replied, not seeing much in the liad of ten. You remembered the Tarly boys had always been large, at ten Samycke was bigger than you are now. There had never been much love between the Rose Hall and Horn Hill, and the promise of a marriage pact seemed to have done little to lighten the relationship.

"And our daughter Alyssa."

Alyssa dipped a perfect curtsey. "My lord," she said.

Harlon's long consideration made your knuckles itch. "See what I do for you boy?" he said over his shoulder to Samwyck.

The big lad wore a wet grin. You liked that even less.

"Oh thank the Mother," you heard Lady Marisa mutter as other guests arrived.

You were surprised to see Joffrey Penrose again so soon. "Edric!" he said, coming over to shake your hand to the surprise of the others, "And Alyssa. My lady, it does my heart good to see you again so soon." He bowed before Alyssa and Samwyck Tarly didn't like that.

With him was Lord and Lady Penrose, Lord Penrose being a man near fifty and Lady Penrose being near Lady Marisa's age, maybe a little older, with a younger boy behind them. Their arrival was warmer, with Lady Penrose taking Marisa by the face and putting a kiss on her cheek.

"Elinor," she said.

"Marisa!"

As close as loving sisters.
>>
"Oh its been too long. Come, meet my two oldest boys, Joffrey and Orryn," Elinor Penrose called her boys back to her side, "Boys, this is an old friend of mine, we fostered together in the Parchments before we were wed. Marisa, this handsome boy is Joffrey. Isn't he the image of his father? And this is Orryn. Orryn will be going off to squire next year for Ronnel Penrose, my husband's cousin you know, the Master of Coin. Joffrey here is with Ser Manfred Dondarion. You remember young Manny? He's become quite the jouster. Oh but I remember you had such a crush on him. Oh shush, we both did, don't lie, I know I did. Oh and don't forget our own little fosterling, Catling come along don't be shy."

Behind the Penrose party out stepped another surprise, Catling Storm. She wore a dress of good silk, and it didn't suit her, most for how she was awkward in it. Not that her figure was homely or the dress unfalltering, far from it, but she looked to the ground and clutched at her skirt, the long trail of her sleeves bunched up in her fists. There was no hiding her short hair, with her head bowed hung a shade over her eyes.

"This is Catling Storm," Lady Penrose said, "Cassie's girl. You remember Cassandra Baratheon?"

"How could I forget," Lady Marisa said, swept up in the tide of her friend's gushing warm babble.

"Lord Royce asked us to take in little Catling when her mother, well, the Silent Sisters take good care of her don't they darling?"

"Yes m'lady," Catling muttered.

"Poor thing," Lady Penrose said.

"Are we wating on anyone else?" Lord Penrose said, looking hungry as the shadows took over the camp behind him, torchlight all there was left to see by.

"One other," your father said, and waved to someone distant, "Lord Fallow!" he called.

The man came alone down the lanes of the tourney grounds, a sword on his hip. He may have been three and thirty, tall and well built with short light hair above a square, handsome face. He smiled with a bow.

"Lord Clover," he said, "Lady Clover. And Lords Tarly and Penrose too. I'm honoured to be in such company."

"House Fallow, I've not heard of you before," Lady Marisa confessed.

"Greydon Fallow of the Green Vault," he said, "We're a small clan, near Old Oak. I'd be surprised if you had heard of us."

"And you're alone, ser?" Lady Penrose asked.

"My brother is here, though dining with the Florents and the Westerlings tonight," he said. "He'll be competing, I'm happy to watch." He smiled then and turned his attention to the children.

Alyssa seized your arm in shock. Upon his chest clear in the flickering torch light, was a bright red hand on black.

He bowed to you both. Alyssa forgot to curtsey, you were stiff, unused to such courtesy. You could feel Alyssa's heavy breathing through your arm, her fingers digging into your arm.

Lord Fallow's smile grew confused.
>>
"M'lord," at last Alyssa mumbled.

"Shall we eat?" Lord Fallow asked, petting his chest.

But as you say your father gave Alyssa a considering frown.

With places set you weren't sure where to sit, but where ever it was you doubt Alyssa would let go of your arm.

"Close are they?" Lady Penrose asked. Lady Marisa only frowned.

Joff petted the seat next to him, where as Lady Marisa seemed to want Alyssa closer to the Tarly boys. Lord Fallow fell in with your father, talking with both him and Lords Penrose and Tarly. What you did know is Alyssa would want to sit as far from him as possible. He did not seem a demon, not to you at least. Catling Storm sat at the end of the table alone.

>sit with Joff
>sit with the Tarlys
>sit with Catling
>sit with your father and the other lords
>>
>>5506536
>>sit with Catling
Hell yeah bastard gang
>>
(not sure when the next update will be because of, you know, christmas)
>>
>>5506536
>sit with Catling
Hell yeah bastard gang indeed
>>
>>5506536
>sit with Catling

Fuck the Tarly shits, fuck the Fallow shit and fuck Marisa.
>>
>>5506536
>>sit with Joff
friends !
>>
>>5506536
>>sit with Catling
sex baratheon NOW
>>
>>5506536
Huh they were Reachmen I didn't that was the case and jesus christ talk about choices


>Bastard gang
>Bastard gang: waifu edition
>Tarly leech
>Dreambait

eh probably
>sit with Joff
if we sit with Catling Alyssa will probably be insufferable ang goddamit I want to be actual friends with the Bastard gang.
>>
How quickly our sister suddenly became sweet and nice. Penrose boy is more than welcome to join us at the end of the table
>>
>>5506551
now that you mention it maybe we should grab Joff and Cat and hang out together rather than soloing them and if Alyssa is clinging to us for dear life it might be less suspect than just the two boys and her.
>>
>>5506536
>sit with Joff
>>
>>5506536
>sit with Catling
>>
>>5506536
>sit with Catling
>>
>>5506550
>if we sit with Catling Alyssa will probably be insufferable
Imagine giving our bitch of a sister even more control over our decisions than she already has
It's between catling and lords for me
>>
>>5506541
>>5506536
Changing my vote to
>Sit with Catling and invite Joff to join us

Have him bring some of the good wine from the upper table
>>
So how's it looking on the secret incest route bros? Do we rescue our sister from her fat slob of a husband after a timeskip? Guy isn't even the heir, just a second son. Is our House so low on the chain to marry their eldest daughter to a second son?
>>
>>5506564
She marries him and has Edric as her secret lover. All of her children are actually Edric's
>>
>>5506564
Hitting all the right flags seemingly so far.
>>
>>5506564
>Is our House so low on the chain to marry their eldest daughter to a second son?
Yes

>So how's it looking on the secret incest route bros?
Antagonistic and unhealthy just how I want it esclation when?

>>5506562
I mean if you want to call it control sure
>>
>>5506536
>sit with Catling
Want tomboy gf
>>
>>5506536
>>sit with Catling
Is my main vote
>Sit with Catling and invite Joff to join us
Is my vote in case there is enough votes for it to pass
>>
>>5506537
Supportin.
Tomboy gf is a go!
This doesn't mean I'm not going for the sister route, might as well have a back up ya know?
>>
>>5506536
>sit with the Tarlys
I have a weird feeling this seemingly poor choice might roll in our favor if someone cards are played right.
Citation: Dude just trust me
>>
>>5506624
>>Sit
+111
>>
>>5506536
>sit with Joff
>sit with Catling
Bastard gang
>>
>>5506536
>sit with Joff
>>
So are we ever going to actually hurt Alyssa?
>>
>>5507210
Nah, just a lil hatefuck when both are of age
>>
>>5507212
She's already had her first period. You know what they say: old enough to bleed, old enough to breed.
>>
>>5507212
eh personally I find it funner if the abuse goes both ways instead us perpetually suffering due to her.
>>
>>5507210
>>5507212
>>5507221
we could tell whoever her crush is that she is very sadistic, and masturbates alot.
>>
>>5507225
I am pretty sure we are her crush. Even though their relationship is extremly toxic
>>
>>5507225
I mean seeing her (and thus her mothers) reputation trashed would certainly be entertaining even if I would prefer some physical payback and it would probably ruin decent suitors.

>>5507228
I mean that was the inference I got from day 1, she likes pinning us down and having her lackies hit us, her fickle changes are a couple of things 1 part being a crush or at least hormonal attraction.
>>
>Alyssa bullies Edric for being a bastard for his whole childhood
>Give her a Dornish bastard of her own
Is this not justice?
>>
>>5507245
I find it to be ironic rather than justice.
>>
>>5507210
No because the incestuous pedo simps will never vote to hurt their waifu
>>
>>5507250
It is totally justice. When the devil-bear steals your wife it is only fair if you steal the devil-bear's wife
>>
>>5507245
Not justice but definitely vengeance of a fashion inflicting the stain of it on Marsia's eldest daughter.

>>5507251
where Is the lie! seriously though make the toxic relationship equal footing
>>
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>>5507245
Habsburg hands typed this
>>
>>5507252
Real justice is knocking up the stepmother herself. No blood relation so no habsburg jaw
>>
>>5507257
I wouldnt worry, since that only happend after repeated close family members got together. But i am fine with also doing it to Lady Marisa
>>
>>5507259
Habsburgs only did cousin marriage. Blood related sister fucking will give advanced habsburg jaw
>>
>>5507264
And aunt-nephews but again, Over a long period of time. Sure there is a higher risk than normal but nothing crazy like pictured >>5507255

Besides, it will be House Tarly's problem, not ours
>>
>>5507264
with sequential generations certainly less likely with a one generation phenomena.
>>
>>5507255
>making inbred retard babies with 12 year old sister
This is what happens when coomers win
>>
>>5507264
They did more than that and in several consecutive generations which is what made it magnitudes worse. A half-siblings couple would make defects more likely but it wouldn't produce a tragic caricature of a man like Charles II.

Btw, am I the only one that wants Edric and Alyssa to eventually become a (relatively) functional couple? There was an anon that compared them to Serpico and Farnese and now I can't help but want things to turn out for the better.
>>
>>5507277
We arent gonna do it now, things will first become like that when they are both of age
>>
>>5507280
>am I the only one that wants Edric and Alyssa to eventually become a (relatively) functional couple?

personally I'm here for the dysfunctional and hopeful escalation eventually therein, the thing with Serpico and Farnese is that that angle eventually drops out from the story since Farnese manages to basically unfuck herself via interacting with Guts and I'm not sure some anons want that.
>>
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>>5507251
Picrel is the average voter
>>
>>5507282
I'd like for Edric to be a Serpico that said yes, remember that Farnese did confess to him. After that, Edric obviously can't be like Guts since that man had to go through the impossible to become what he did but I would like for him to be that course correction for Alyssa like Guts was for Farnese.

>>5507251
>>5507255
>>5507277
>>5507285
All 1 post ids whining about the same thing. It's not paranoid of me to suspect this, is it?
>>
>5507210
anons are actually whipped as fuck if they want to long turn alyssa, she needs to be buried with the rest of them by the end
>>
I don't care much about Alyssa but the only thing I am willing to penetrate Marisa with is an actual sword.
>>
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>>5507291
>>
>>5507290
1 post IDs or not, their one-sided obsession with people who don't want to feed Edric's trueborn family to a pack of rabid dogs would make me disregard their posts anyway. The chunni-tier tortured bastard edgelord archetype is so overdone, people in search of it should pack up and go to AO3. We'll all be happier that way.
>>
In all seriousness though I saw quite a number of quests die due to coomers starting waifu wars and samefagging the votes.
We will see if this one will be different.
>>
>>5507290
It's been a hot minute since I've read the Conviction arc so my memories not great on it but if I remember the inference correctlly if he'd said yes Farnese would have basically doubled down on her insane coping mechanisms just with a focused affection on Serpico I imagine.

anyway to point I can see what you want even somewhat appreciate it even but I just don't think Edric or Alyssa comes from an appropriate psychological place for a similar playout and honestly I don't see it getting healthier until a line is drawn in the sand with consequences for her and with how our place in the family is currently I doubt that will occur without Edric doing something and then its about avoiding the worst of any ramifications.

>>5507306
To credit I think Munkun has done a decent job at avoiding the worst of it so far, its not like theirs been an Immediate attempt to do something whacky that will throw the quest to the gutter.
>>
>>5507306
Coomers won't need to samefag. They're the clear the majority
>>
>>5507307
In all honesty I don't even read this quest. I'm just laughing at the coomer anons trying to rationalize making incest babies with their half sister
>>
>>5507306
I've only see quests really suffer from waifu wars, coomers seem to only tip votes in favor of a terrible but erotic decision which causes issues but doesn't really destroy the story. I've also seen anons seethe and cope by accusing other anons of being coomers and waifu fags if votes lead to any sort of romantic direction at all.

>>5507307
Of course, I don't think it is a plausible change of character as things are now. What I've stated is simply what I want as an end goal of the relationship so I'll vote for what I believe will lead in that direction.
>>
>>5507311
well that explains the missing context in your meme since its a hottake.

>>5507312
>I've only see quests really suffer from waifu wars
From what I've observed its more playing to the erotic fringe that can rapidly destroy a credible quest and it takes effort to avoid that and thats learnt with experience that certain Qm's don't seem to have.

I've also seen more anons move past waifu seething than it becoming a malignant cancer on a quest but that might be because of how selective I am on quests

>What I've stated is simply what I want as an end goal of the relationship so I'll vote for what I believe will lead in that direction
Fair enough, thats not what I personally want but we'll see what happens.
>>
>>5507329
My context is anon wanting a romantic relationship with their sister and that's enough for me to declare this quest infested with coomers
>>
>>5507342
To be completely fair the writing kind of gave people an in for it ( not trying to take shots at the QM, the setting isn't exactly chaste )
>>
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All this talk of coomers and incest makes me want to dig up my old notes about a quest prepared using the Chronicle starter book where the heir of the house and his mother are in an incestuous relationship.
>>
>>5507291
She's just tsundere. She has nightmares about us dying, even though she was pushing the wounds to hurt us went running for help when Edric seemed actually hurt and is getting turned on when Edric fights
>>
>>5507482
Do it
>>
I'm fine with helping or protecting Alyssa, she's 12.
But she does need a lesson impressed upon her that this shit cannot continue. Otherwise, when the bloody hands come for her, it will be one promise broken.
>>
Updoot when?
>>
>>5509702
Let MaesterMunkun enjoy their time off. They wouldn't leave us hanging without a good bye so it's only a matter of time.
>>
>>5509729
>They wouldn't leave us hanging without a good bye so it's only a matter of time.
The other guy running the Northern house quest flaked without a warning.
>>
>>5509732
Yes but this one is powered by coomers
>>
>>5509743
It is known.
>>
I'm not dropping nothing, just been busy. hopefully will get an update out tonight or tomorrow but its a crowded time of the year
>>
>>5510381
Bah. A few niche holidays comes around and suddenly everyone is busy!
>>
>>5510381
Do it for little sister cunny
>>
>>5510381
Woo
>>
>>5510396
do sob emoji work on 4chinz? azking 4 fren : DDDDD
>>
I'm going to say 'sit with Joff AND Catling' is the winner.

putting together this update now. sorry for the delays.
>>
>>5511417
Based compromise
>>
>>5511417
Complete bastard gang victory
>>
Ayy update
>>
>>5511417
Lit
>>
You had as much interest in sitting with the Tarly boys as your sister did. It had been some years since you'd last seen them, but you remembered them less as playmates and more as beefy cudgels determined to knock you down. The Sams as they were known were neither friendly with you or anyone else at Rose Hall, and had swaggered with the arrogance of overlords rather than peers.

Very little seemed to have changed.

And while you might enjoy Alyssa's fear, subjecting her with Greydon Fallow's company, you had a mind to make a closer bond with the companions you'd made earlier.

When you sat at the end of the table beside Catling Storm, Alyssa settled next to you, Joff took the hint and scootched his chair closer.

"Edric," Joff said, spearing a flank of chicken and serving it onto his plate, "Your lord father puts out a fine spread."

"We're generous with our friends," Alyssa said with a coy smile for young Penrose that Joff liked.

"Dornish style, yes? With devil peppers," he said, slicing a piece of the pan seared chicken and taking a bite. He clapped his lips, thoughtfully. "Could be hotter, but not bad. Catling, try some coz." He cut her a piece of his own chicken, sharing it with her plate.

"You're cousins?" you said.

"Only of a sort," Catling said, testing the piece of chicken with the tines of her fork. She was not much for hearty eating.

"Catling is more sister to me than anything else," Joff said, "We were raised together." Joff was an age with Catling, if not a little younger.

"I became a ward of the Parchments when I was a girl of three," Catling said, "After my mother was given to the care of the Silent Sisters."

"Mad, is she?" Alyssa asked, without tact.

joff swallowed his chicken as if he swallowed his tongue along with it, and you shot a look at Alyssa like you might smack her.

But Catling smiled. "Mayhap, or more likely just inconvinient," she said, and looking up you got your first close look at her eyes. Eyes a shade of lilac you'd never seen before. Valyrian eyes. "My grandsire was not prepared to war with the Iron Throne over my mother's honour."

"It was my Aunt Elaena asked father to take Catling in," Joffrey said.

"Elaena...Targaryen?" Alyssa said, sucking in an impressed breath.

Joff nodded. "Wife to my Uncle Ronnel, the Master of Coin. Though most believe she's the true Master of Coin in King's Landing. Master of cleaning up her cousin's crimes, more like." He said that last with a scowl.

"So you're saying you're...you're a bastard of King Aegon?" Alyssa said with a more respectful, even fearful look, for Catling.

"My mother never named him outright," Catling said, "As they were never lovers, and he had only recently been crowned king."

You did even if Alyssa didn't, though you didn't think she was dense enough to miss the implication. Aegon the Unworthy had truly earned his name then, if Catling's mother was to be believed.
>>
"Or, if you believe my Uncle Orys, it was some purple eyed merchant of Lys, and my mother was making up stories for attention. The blood of Valyria is common enough in Essos," Catling said with a smirk to say she didn't believe it.

"Shall we speak on something else?" Joffrey said, pouring your sister a cup of small wine, "A nicer story."

"Oh but what of your story, Joffrey?" Alyssa asked.

He laughed. "I've got no story to tell. I'm the eldest son of the Lord of Parchments' brother. We manage the estates while Lord Penrose sees to his duties in King's Landing. I've three younger brothers, two still at home. The other is running around here somewhere. Little Daeron is an age with your Gareth, I think they could be good friends."

"The Seven knows Gareth needs friends," Alyssa said. There was no denying that, the boy loved books more than people.

"Your mother and mine were good friends when they were girls," Joffrey said, "Before your mother was stolen away to a castle in the Reach. Is it true the Rose Hall is overgrown with roses? That they wrap the tower to its peak and you need to hack your way through brambles each year to get through its front gate."

"Oh no, the roses only grow on the barrows, where we bury our dead," she replied, "A line of Clovers going back to Garth the Gardener are buried there. One day I'll be buried there too, to be lain among the roses with my kin."

A sour taste filled your mouth at that, remembering what had become of your mother's remains.

"Surely you'd be buried in Horn Hill, though," Joffrey said, "Aren't you to be a Tarly bride?"

Alyssa's smile wilted, and her interest shot away from Joff down to her dinner plate.

"I'd like to see these barrows though," he said, seeing his mistake, "Perhaps we can come visit you in Rose Hall before you are wed."

"Perhaps we can steal you away, and you won't have to wed at all," Catling said, "Put you on a ship to Essos, become a courtesan in Braavos or Myr. What's to be had in a marriage anyway but a chain binding you to a castle keep, made a maester with tits forced to whelp out babes for a man you hate?"

Neither of you had heard a woman talk like that before, and it turned Alyssa a bright shade of pink.

"H-has Lord Penrose not found you a husband?" Alyssa asked.

Joffrey and Catling shared a look before bursting into laughter.

"Aye, he found me a suitor," Catling slouched back, her grin becoming wild, "A boorish old man of House Herston. He tried to take my sword from me so I broke his leg. I warned him. Now he's a crippled old man of House Herston."

"Suitors became scarce after that," Joffrey said with clear admiration for her.

"I've my sword for a husband," Catling said, "My axe for a lover, and any who mislike it can lick my arse."
>>
Any discomfort she had was gone at such martial talk, she relaxed in her chair and you thought might kick her feet up on the table if her dress allowed it.

"What about you, Flowers?" Catling asked, turning her pale Valyrian eyes on you, "Are you to be put out to stud by your lord father?"

"There's been no talk of it," you muttered, not much enjoying being the focus of discussion.

"A bastard is common coin for a noble lady's hand," Alyssa said with such distaste it made Joffrey frown. The words sounded recited, you heard Lady Marisa echoed in her voice.

"Can we speak on something else?" Joff said, "I'm sorry I brought it up."

"We can speak on whatever you'd like," Alyssa said to Joffrey, easing his frown and bringing back his smile. He was falling into her snare. A shame, you liked him more than most trueborn boys.

"That Peake boy will be out for your head," Catling said to you, "Come the melee he'll be hunting for you."

"Let him try," Joff added, "Edric rides with us now."

"You have a horse for the melee?" Catling asked.

Ser Hobb had given you Chestnut to ride, but Chestnut was no warhorse. He was no Jester, the charger given to your younger brother. The destrier your brother could scarcely handle.

>you'll ride Chestnut, and hope the gelding is good enough
>you'd been given Chestnut, but you'd take Jester, Ser Hobb be damned
>>
>>5511554
>You did even if Alyssa didn't, though you didn't think she was dense enough to miss the implication

wow, bad sentence

'You caught the implication, even if Alyssa didn't, though you didn't think she was dense enough to miss it entirely'.
>>
>>5511556
>>5511556
>you'll ride Chestnut, and hope the gelding is good enough

Will be pretty hard to get away with taking our brothers horse, but maybe we could ask father to borrow one of the other warhorses we got with us
>>
>>5511556
>>you'll ride Chestnut, and hope the gelding is good enough
>>
>>5511560
We also need to ask father for a 3 day leave to train with our friends.

To think. Edric has actual friends now.
>>
sorry for the wait, and now with new year's coming up don't expect too many regular updates until the next year really starts.
>>
>>5511556
>you'd been given Chestnut, but you'd take Jester, Ser Hobb be damned
>>
>>5511556
>you'll ride Chestnut, and hope the gelding is good enough

>>5511572
I've waited eagerly and patiently for this last update and I'll wait with equal anticipation for the next!
>>
>>5511556
>you'll ride Chestnut, and hope the gelding is good enough
>>
>>5511556
>>you'll ride Chestnut, and hope the gelding is good enough
>>
>>5511556
>you'd been given Chestnut, but you'd take Jester, Ser Hobb be damned

Man fuck hobb
>>
>>5511556
>you'd been given Chestnut, but you'd take Jester, Ser Hobb be damned
>>
>>5511556
>>you'll ride Chestnut, and hope the gelding is good enough
>>
>>5511630
>>5511598
>>5511585
>>5511563
>>5511560
Chestnut it is
>>
>>5511417
>>5511632

nice
>>
But Chestnut had an even temper at least, and was all you had.

"A gelding, Chestnut," you said.

"More a riding horse, really," Alyssa said, "What about you, Joff? Do you have a war horse?"

"I'll be riding a brute called Lasher," he said, "We've a wealth of good destriers in the Parchments, thanks to my lord uncle's high position. Catling, you'll be riding Goblin?"

"He's the horse for me," she said.

"My brother will be riding Jester, Jester's the foal of our father's horse, Bullroarer, who father will be riding in the joust," Alyssa said, with clear pride of the lineage of House Clover's horses and of your lord father.

"You've good horses in Rose Hall?" Catling said, now finding Alyssa of some interest.

You shrugged. "Good enough," you said for her, "Nothing to impress a daughter of Storm's End."

Alyssa slapped your arm, a cross look on her face. "The Reach has the finest horseflesh in the seven kingdoms, and the finest riders," she said, "With all respect to our eastern friends. Our destriers make Dornish horses look like mild palfreys. Why I'd say a Reachman who cannot ride is no man at all, least of all a knight."

"Hotly said," Catling replied, "We'll see the truth of it at Princess Daenerys' tourney. Don't discount us Stormlanders in the tilt."

But Alyssa wasn't done. "Why I'd even put Edric on his half-mare against your best on a real charger," she said.

"That sounds a wager to me," Joff said, leaning forward, "What's say we put something on the line. If I unhorse your brother in the melee, you'll give me first dance at the feast afterward."

"I'd give you a kiss if you could," Alyssa said, and the trap was shut as Joff blushed, then laughing looked at you.

"Well there it is Edric, after we've cleared the field of all the trueborn boys, we'll have at it," he said, "A kiss from such a maiden would make any man the Warrior."

A shame, you thought. Joff would look stupid in the mud.

"Does that offer extend to anyone who throws your brother from his horse?" Catling asked.

That left Alyssa more than confused, and you too, with a sudden hot feeling in your groin as Catling smirked at your sister, a picture of her lip locked with your sister in your mind. Alyssa swallowed, blushing as she covered her face with her wine cup. How much of it was jest, how much of it was true, you didn't know.

"Shall we call it the Battle for the Maiden's Kiss?" Joff joked to his foster sister.

You didn't like this prize, and dreaded news of it getting back to the rest of the Bastards. Whatever you thought of your sister, she was a comely girl. And again she had found a way to make you an archery butt. You drank deep from your own small wine, trying not to think too hard on any of them kissing your sister, though thoughts of Catling kissing her did linger...

Whatever conversation was had between the lords soon ended. Lord Tarly rose, shook the hands of both Lord Penrose and Fallow, before giving a nod to your lord father.
>>
"Come on boys," he barked at his sons, and the two Sams rose from where they had pestered Gareth, following after their father as large and lumbering as the striding red giants on their doublets.

"It was a pleasure," Greydon Fallow said to both your father and Lord Penrose, Lady Elinor Penrose and Lady Marisa, "I hope to see you all again before the tourney is through, and if any of you are ever up near the Green Vault, please do me the honour of calling on us."

Then he left as he had come, seemingly unremarkable, but only then did a small tension in Alyssa ease.

And your own shoulders relaxed too. You hadn't even realized the tension you carried. You weren't sure you even believed Alyssa's strange fears. A nightmare was only a dream after all. It was the world had all the real terrors.

"What a pleasant man," Lady Elinor said, toying with a tress of hair as she watched Ser Greydon leave.

"A pleasant evening all around," Lady Marisa said, "You must watch the joust with me Elinor, and fill me in more about the goings on back home."

"Of course, of course," Lady Elinor said, getting up first to help up her lord husband, who was a few cups deep and needed the assistance, "Joffrey, help your father," she called, summoning away your new friend.

"I'll see you both on the morrow," Joff said, finishing his small wine, "Bright and early for training Edric, don't forget."

"I'll be there," you promised, not forgetting his promise to unhorse you.

"With your horse," Catling said. She smiled and you were caught by her pale lilac eyes again. Targaryen eyes.

Alyssa hugged your arm, looking less comfortable now as the Penrose family left. "You'd best not lose," she said, "I don't want to kiss a girl."

You looked at her with a hot flash of anger. Yet again she'd found a way to turn friends against you, however friendly the competition seemed.

>say: Maybe I'll lose on purpose so you'll have to
>say: I don't mean to lose, and not for your stupid kiss
>say: then if I win, do I get your kiss?
>say nothing but push the meddling girl away
>>
(fun fact: if you guys had picked the Stormlands or King's Landing as a starting point, you too could have had Valyrian blood. Likewise if you'd picked the North or the Vale, a Wildling mother was an option.)
>>
>>5511664
>say: then if I win, do I get your kiss?

Flash her a cruel smirk
>>
>>5511664
>Then what do I get if I win?

>you shouldn't make bets if you aren't willing to pay up.

>either way I don't plan on losing to anyone.
>>
>>5511664
>>say: then if I win, do I get your kiss?
Sure why not
>>5511666
>if you guys had picked the Stormlands or King's Landing as a starting point, you too could have had Valyrian blood
Shame we didn't. Joining Blackfyre as his half-brother would be so much fun.
>>
>>5511664
>"Does that offer extend to anyone who throws your brother from his horse?" Catling asked.
gaaaaaay,gif

>say: Maybe I'll lose on purpose so you'll have to
>say: then if I win, do I get your kiss?
>>
we should make kissing Cat a threat
>>
>>5511671
+1
>>
changing my support to >>5511671
>>
We should get her to kiss us in front of her mother (chastley on the cheek of course)
>>
>>5511664
First
>say: then if I win, do I get your kiss?
To fluster her, then follow up with >>5511671
>you shouldn't make bets if you aren't willing to pay up.
>either way I don't plan on losing to anyone.
>>
>>5511664
>say nothing but push the meddling girl away
>>
I just realised that this is once again Alyssa sending someone to beat up Edric
>>
>>5511787

Alyssa: *Sees a male*

Edric: Ah shit, here we go again!
>>
>>5511664
>say: Maybe I'll lose on purpose so you'll have to
First a joke
>say: I don't mean to lose, and not for your stupid kiss
And then the truth
>>
>>5511671
+1
>>
>>5511664
>>5511671
This is good.
Makes any desire for a kiss ambiguous while leaving room for something we might actually want, like kinder treatment.
>>
>>5511671
I probably should have switched points 1 and 2 so it's more like a admonishing her.
>>
>>5511787
She has a really specific fetish, and artist commissions don't exist in westeros. Beyond, ya know, portraits and shit
>>
>>5511787
Reverse uno on her when?
>>
>>5512174
>you want me to make a portrait of your half brother Lady Alyssa?
>yes and make it as violent and bloody as possible...
>.....what?
>>
>>5511671
+1 supportededed
>>
>>5511782
+1 support
>>
This quest is incredibly based. Glad I found it; hope the incest hatesex fuckers don't win
>>
>>5512520
Incest will win, hate sex won't
>>
File: images (6).jpg (5 KB, 250x141)
5 KB
5 KB JPG
>>5512520
What do you want anon?
>>
>>5512520
>>5512529
Hatesex with Marisa
Loving incest with Alyssa
>>
File: enjoying the goonsesh.png (1.67 MB, 982x1193)
1.67 MB
1.67 MB PNG
>>5512520
>>
Ryona sex never
>>
>>5512530
Catling seems great but she bats for the other team
>>
>>5512539
There's always the blonde if you want an alternative
>>
>>5512531
>Hatesex with Marisa
won't happen
>Loving incest with Alyssa
is inevitable
>>
>>5512539
Jusr rape her. Simple.
>>
>>5512568
Not the sister?
>>
>>5512571
Rape everyone. Ask questions later.
>>
I vote for marrying the Emo chick.
>>
Just caught up, so far the best asoiaf quest since princely, plasma, page, the warrior, and the rad king aerys' quests.

>>5511671
supporting
>>
well I clearly missed a few hours of fun shitposting

>>5512539
Don't know if she does yet but we'll see

>>5512607
who?
>>
>>5512263
>have him being beaten by a horde of summer islanders
>>
>>5512722
Catlin
>>
>>5512793
Don't think she's emo just tomboyish and rebellious and very uncomfortable with traditional femininity
>>
>>5499427
OP is just a better writer
>>
>>5511664
>>say: then if I win, do I get your kiss?
>>
>>5511671
this seems the clear winner

time to make Edric's sister uncomfortable!
>>
You snatched her wrist and pulled her close, not caring if your grip hurt her.

"Then what do I get if I win?" you snapped. You had her pulled close to you, and she gave you a frightened look, a hand to your chest ready to push away.

"What?" she managed in a gasp, taken back by your sudden outburst. Long had she needled you and gotten away with it. Not this time.

Then you bent to her ear and said, "You shouldn't make bets if you aren't willing to pay up." She didn't know what you meant by that, you didn't know what you meant by that, but the breath quickened from the prize of her comely lips as your own breath had quickened in a storm of anger.

You released her then, with enough force she took a full step back.

"Either way I don't plan on losing, not to anyone," you said.

She rubbed her wrist and glared.

"Actually I think I'd rather enjoy it," she said, "It'll be worth it to see you lose!"

How quick her tune changed, you could almost laugh.

But you had other things to think on then a brat of a girl who lived to torment you.

Ser Lincoln opened half an eye as you passed him on the way to your tent, a drunken smile on his face.

"Brothers and sisters," he muttered before turning over, back to a wine induced slumber.
>>
Chestnut shied from the other horses as they stomped the grass of the field. You were armed and armoured as if for the melee itself, for now riding as a single body. Horses bonded quickly, but warhorses were trained to snap and kick in a way other horses weren't. Chestnut was no warhorse, and was ill used to such company, but you had control of the gelding. Which was more than could be said of Gareth on Jester.

Your father approved of all this, making friends with the other bastards of the Reach, and more that it got Gareth away from his books and into a saddle.

"That boy ain't right," Harry Hill said, watching your brother fumble his reins. Harry for his part was an expert rider. Short and brawny, he had a natural slouch to his seat and a command of his horse, Quicksilver, that only Black Roddy Flowers seemed to match. Though Gareth made everyone else seem a seasoned horseman.

You were happy not to be worst of the rest, that went to Linette's brother Timmet, the castle bound boy might be the son of the Highcastle master-of-arms, but as a fighter he seemed more comfortable on foot.

Joffrey for his part rode and fought well, if uninspiring.

"Like this, here," Black Roddy said, trying to correct your brother's horsemanship. Your brother was hardly listening, glaring off in churlish silence. The Bastards showed more patience for your brother than you thought he deserved.

Harry drew his sword, starting Quicksilver into a trot alongside Catling on Goblin. Handsome horses, you had to admit.

"Ho, Cat!" he said, then cut for her head. Catling caught the cut in a parry, then slammed the rim of her shield into his side. Harry laughed, rocked back against the cantle of his saddle. Fighting on horseback was far different from fighting on foot, you knew, and you'd done much less of it. The two fought a quick exchange, joyful and fierce, her laugh joining his before they separated. Catling spurred her horse into a gallop, sword a raised baton for a small cheer from the watching audience.

The morning sun was bright on a blue sky, the smell of roses warring with the growing stink of the tourney camp. Harry had found a paddock to train in, and had gathered a small audience in the bargain, most eagerly and present Linette Flowers with some other girls and hanger ons. The blonde rose of a girl waved in your direction and your chest swelled, for a moment thinking she waved to you.
>>
She had put together something of a picnic, with the mouth watering smell of fresh baked bread and sweet treats arranged on an unfurled blanket. Among the girls was Joff's younger brother Orryn, who acted as something of a squire to the older Penrose boy. You couldn't speak to the presence of your sister other than 'not here'.

Damn her anyway. News of her promise had spread, as you'd feared.

Harry galloped back to join you.

"Fine day for it," he said.

That it was.

"Come on brother, draw your sword, take a tilt at someone," he said, "You're as moody as Catling."

Catling right now was far from moody, grinning as she galloped her horse.

>challenge Roderick Flowers
>challenge Catling Storm
>challenge Timmet Flowers
>challenge Joffrey Penrose
>challenge Harry Hill
>challenge Gareth Clover
>>
>>5513409
>>challenge Harry Hill
He seems like one of the strongest around here
>>
>>5513409
"That boy ain't right," Harry Hill said
>Hill
Nice

>challenge Joffrey Penrose
>>
>>5513391
>You snatched her wrist and pulled her close, not caring if your grip hurt her.
...In truth, I'm a fool for thinking this would go any other way.

>>5513409
>challenge Roderick Flowers
>>
>>5513409
>challenge Harry Hill
Only because of the King of the Hill joke.
>>
>>5513415
It was always going to be emotionally charged since we haven't resolved our relationship with her yet
>>
>>5513409
>challenge Harry Hill
>>
>>5513409
>challenge Harry Hill
>>
>>5513409
>>challenge Harry Hill
>>
>>5513409
>challenge Joffrey Penrose
>>
>>5505444
It wouldn't be proper ASOIAF if we're not trying to fuck our sister
>>
>>5513409
>challenge Harry Hill
>>
>>5513616
Actually i think this is the first time it has ever been seriously considered and gone for
>>
>>5513409
>challenge Harry Hill
>>
>>5513404
>challenge Harry Hill
Happy New Year !
>>
>challenge Joffrey Penrose
>>
Happy new year! Let's fight Harry Hill
>>
>>5514277
Happy new year
>>
(sorry for the delay, new year's well wishes going around)
>>
(I realized while researching this quest that the Reach is pretty much the cultural heart of modern Westeros. The maesters, the first Septs in Westeros, the traditions of chivalry and knighthood, all come from the Andals who settled in the Reach. Even First Men lore and the Age of Heroes, most of it threads back to Garth Greenhand, the mythic king of the Reach, again though mostly because the Reach is the center of education and at one point religion in Westeros through the Citadel and the Starry Sept)
>>
Well if it was a fight he was offering you were never one to back down.

You drew your sword and tapped the front of Harry's helm. He grinned beneath it.

"Let's go then," he spurred his horse away, slapping sword against shield in challenge, Quicksilver in a prancing trot beneath him. He was strong, the oak shield he used burdened him little. You wished you were as dexterous with the weight of wood and iron on your left arm as he was, but still was not comfortable with that sort of fighting.

A good horseman too, on a better horse for fighting, though you thought yourself his equal as a rider.

You drummed the hilt of your sword against your shield in an answering drum beat, then set your edge against its rim, steering your horse with a squeeze of your calves, Chestnut making nervous grunts beneath you. He was not the sort of horse for this kind of action. Quicksilver on the other hand had an eager eye, ears flattened in agressive posture where Chestnut's flickered with worry.

Harry spurred his horse with a harsh 'ya!' driving toward you. You answered with a heel to Chestnut's flanks, forcing the anxious horse into an answering charge. 'The Rose, the Rose!' you yelled, for the red rose of House Clover on your chest.

Steel struck steel, and you learned the impressive strength hidden in Harry's arms and broad chest.

-
>Harry Hill is your equal in most things (DC50), but is riding a good warhorse (-10DC).

>Roll 3 x 1d100 dc 40 (roll under, and feel free to roll all at once to keep the fight scenes moving at a quicker clip)
>>
Rolled 36, 98, 93 = 227 (3d100)

>>5514449
Roll all at once? Like this?
>>
Rolled 22, 24, 26 = 72 (3d100)

>>5514452
yeah! Edric gets one success, inflicting a wound on Harry. since this is a friendly sparring match, let's assume shots are pulled with any injury being superficial (unless someone rolls a critfail...)

rolling for Harry, who needs to roll under DC60.
>>
>>5514453
Harry wallops Edric but not without taking a blow himself.

writing it up.
>>
>>5514453
bruh, come on...
>>
Rolled 55, 24, 9 = 88 (3d100)

>>5514449
can't change anything but here is my roll
>>
>>5514449
Might want to include the total value at the end there boss.
>>
You pushed your shield against his, flanks of your horses pressing together, hooves dancing beneath you as the must frustrated huffs and whineys. Harry's grinning broad face was close enough you could smell the mint on his breath. You pushed his shield back and rang a blow across his helm, trying to wedge the rim of your shield around his to force it away and open him up.

It was a tangle of swords and shields, the both of you grunting with effort, horses circling another as you wrestled for advantage. At last though his pommel hooked the wrist of your sword arm and you snarled in frustration as he muscled your defences open, smacking his shield into the iron bar of your helm.

Something crunched and the back of your head went cold as you slashed at him to make room, to bring your sword back between you. A wetness ran over your lips and you licked up a taste of blood, spitting it from your mouth.

Harry's wild laugh rang in your ears, your head abuzzed by his blow. You'd been hit harder but not often.

It didn't anger you. No, the pain quickened your blood and concentrated your nerves. Blood pouring over a growing grin to make a red smile.

This fight was not done. You shook the buzzing from your ears, let out a harsh laugh of your own and swung for Harry's grinning face. His laughter turned to a concentrated grin.

Your blades met in a crash, a push and pull between you in the saddle.

Now was not a game of blades but a wrestling match, to see who could unhorse who.
-
>Edric has a small injury, this time its DC35

>if Edric rolls three successes or one critical success Harry is unhorsed.
>>
Rolled 4 (1d100)

>>5514475
>>
Rolled 93, 27, 27 = 147 (3d100)

>>5514475

Let's see if this is any better
>>
>>5514476
>>5514478
Please let this count QM.
>>
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>>5514478
What's the criteria fail range again lol?
>>
Rolled 78, 59, 22 = 159 (3d100)

>>5514478
>>5514476
A 4 and a 27 counts for two successes

Now Harry only needs 1 success to unhorse Edric, rolling at DC65 for Edric's injury.

(I might modify this for the melee, I'm still figuring out the flow of these. Maybe in a tourney three successes is an auto-unhorsing. I figure now is a good time to figure these rules out before Edric's actual life is on the line)

>>5514480
crit fail is a roll of 100, crit success is a roll of 1

Rolling for Harry, DC65.
>>
>>5514480
Wym? It's always 100 unless specified otherwise and that hasn't happened.
>>
>>5514482
2 successes. Harry unhorses Edric but Edric gave him a hell of a fight.
>>
>>5514483
Never hurts to ask. Some quest I've read have pulled out a suprise crit range. Some bad times as you'll imagine.
>>
>>5514482
Dammit you counted sequentially. I meant count them as 4, 27, 27 not 4, 93, 27
>>
>>5514484
Well there goes the maidens kiss whats our backup?
>>
>>5514491
This didn't have anything to do with the bet. This is some sparring/practice. The kiss thing is for the melee.
>>
>>5514489
Lol why would he do that? Take the rolls on the chin.

>>5514491
That was for the actual melee right? This is just practice
>>
>>5514488
Wow, what a faggot. Who the fuck pulls out the rules after the fact?
>>
>>5514493
>>5514494
Ahh right my bad I thought this little arrangment was seperate from the melee, I guess we should see about investing in some bonuses for the actual melee then.

also what is our backup then?
>>
>>5514494
The roll requires 3 numbers, that first anon rolled a 4,- ,- and the other rolled a 93, 27, 27. Since the fist slot has been taken up by the 4 that came first, the 93 which belongs in the first slot goes unused. Since the others remain empty, the 27s occupy them. This makes more sense in my head than when I type it out.
>>
>>5514482
>(I might modify this for the melee, I'm still figuring out the flow of these. Maybe in a tourney three successes is an auto-unhorsing. I figure now is a good time to figure these rules out before Edric's actual life is on the line)
My thoughts: using 2 sets of rolls results in a very quick paced combat, but I don't think it'll work when we are facing opponents one after the other, because the opponents are able to get hits in even if we score 3 successes. The injuries we take from successful opponent hits will make multiple fights impossible.

Compare this against Forgotten's system where if we get 3 successes there's no danger of getting a hit ourselves, because there's only 1 set of rolls. I don't know the words to explain this properly, but basically the system will break down because most opponents we're likely to face will be our equals or better, so not only do we have to ace all our rolls but we have to doubly hope that the opponent also fails all his rolls because if he gets even one success we take an injury that will make the next fight in the battle even more difficult, on two separate sets of rolls.
>>
>>5514496
A better horse would increase our chances I'm sure. Don't have any idea how to get one though, we decided on chestnut. Idk maybe a team training session. Some solo practice spars with the others? Experience is the best teacher and till now we've been a weight bag for Ser Hobber. Idk how/if Munkun will present opportunities to get bonuses for the melee.
>>
>>5514502
Seconding this, the one set of rolls also means less work on your end even if it is one roll, the second part to anon's post that I feel should be included is the Armour value or AV rolls that have a chance to mitigate or negate damage based on equipment or perks a character has.
>>
>>5514504
well we had the option of nicking one of hobb but apparently we decided against that, training and experience will help but I suspect equipment is going to be hard to get unless we get sketchy.
>>
>>5514505
Yeah I feel like this system is currently agnostic to the quality and type of equipment. It's another set of numbers for the QM to keep track of for sure, but it results in a richer experience for the anons playing if our combat style is influenced by our choices (whether to spend money on acquiring better equipment, what kind of weapon we use) as opposed to the DC remaining the same.
>>
>>5514511
I get the feeling Munkun wants to keep this fairly light and diving into multiple bonuses like Forgotten does is not what he wants to do and might be a bit trepadacious about diving into it in case he fucks up.

correct me if I'm wrong here please Munkun
>>
>>5514482
I would recommend you either settle on one anon rolling 3d100, or three anons rolling 1d100. Given the popularity of this quest the latter seems best.

Also, if you'd like to keep opposing rolling while accounting for the worries of >>5514502 you could implement combat stances (easily my favorite part of Forgotten's system)...
>>
Gods Harry was strong, but you were no weakling either.

And you were vicious, with no intention of losing. Caught in a grapple, your horses snorting and butting each other, you lashed your forehead at Harry's grinning face. The rim of your helm caught his lip, opening it. Blood spritzed from the cut and he let out a surprised gasp. It gave you purchase enough to slam your pommel into the side of his haed, then loop your arm around his thick neck, and pull him from his saddle, your shields knocking against each other, the hilt of your sword an awkward lever.

For a moment, a thrilling moment, you thought you had him, a foot of his slipping from his stirrup, Harry growling in your headlock. Then he dropped his shield, letting it clatter down between your warring horses, and his sword too, and the mail mitts covering his hands grabbed at your tunic, your sword belt, and you found yourself in his grip now, his head pushed against your neck, twisting over the horn of his saddle to grasp you.

You let your own shield hang free and pushed a hand into his face, trying to brute force him back.

He let out a great big bellow of 'Honour!' and suddenly you felt the saddle beneath you left away, the world tipping over. He pulled you over to own horse, for a moment holding you free above the earth, then threw you over it. The green grassfield rushed up to embrace you. You sprawled out to take the punch out of the landing, though still coughed when you struck the ground.

Harry, astride his horse, shook his head out, a dull look on his face as blood oozed down his chin. Chestnut pranced away from Quicksilver, whinnying in fear to now be without his rider.

You were slow to get up. You had lost your shield in the wrestle but not your sword. Woozy but up on both feet, you took your sword in both hands.

Continue on foot, you thought, I'll continue on foot...

But seeing you standing there ready to keep going, Harry laughed.

It wasn't a mocking laugh, it was bright eyed and joyful. He brought up his shield from its strap, dangling from his forearm, and lay it across the horn of his saddle.

"The gods love you, Edric Flowers," he said, slouching in his saddle with a big wide grin, "You've the blood of the Warrior I reckon."

"So you surrender?" you said, lowering the point of your sword. Harry laughed and your laugh joined his as he dismounted.

The blood on your face had come from a cut on your lip where Harry's shield had wrapped the bar of your helm. It was luck alone kept you from losing your teeth. The bleeding slowed to a steady oozing. You'd done Harry a matching blow.

If it wasn't for your horse you thought you might have been his match or more. Chestnut was a good riding horse but not meant for this sort of riding, and had given ground to the more assertive Quicksilver.

That was your read on it at least.
>>
Harry dismounted and took you around the shoulder, kissed you on the cheek then slapped the back of your head. Harry had a fierce sort of friendship.

"Go get that love bite looked at," he said, "Over there, Linette should have a salve or balm." He winked as if he had done you a great favour, the golden haired girl seated at her picnic watching it all carrying on.

You sheathed your sword and fetched Chestnut, staggering toward the watching picnic ground. Girls, mostly girls, with some boys hanging on as they watched. A mix of the higher sort of smallfolk and the lower sort of high born.

"A pretty picture," Linette said as you swagered over. You dabbed some of the blood on the back of your hand and gave a nervous grin. The girls beside Linette giggled. You didn't know their Houses, Gareth would. One girl had the Florent jug ears though, and must have been a trueborn relative of Black Roddy.

"Harry said you might have something for this?" You said, pointing to your lip.

You took your seat at her picnic with a greater heaviness than you intended, pains awakening inside you.

"Rough practice," Linette said, "If you fight so fierce with your friends, there'll be little left of you for the melee."

She took from a wicker basket a jar filled with an amber balm. Opening it, she dabbed it on her fingertip.

"This is nothing," you said, "I've had worse. What is that?" It smelled of creams and powder.

"Here, tilt your head back," she said, tipping your chin for you.

The touch of her fingers quickened your pulse, and you swallowed, looking down at her long pale neck and where it disappeared beneath the green collar of her dress. The tip of her finger touched the thick balm to your lip, smearing it across. It stung enough you hissed.

"It'll close it up and leave no scar," she said, "A knight should have a few scars, but only in the right places."

Those girls with her giggled again. One tore in half a sticky bun, handing the heel of it to you. Fresh baked bread dotted with raisins within, glazed in some kind of honey. You took a bite and savoured the burst of bready sweetness.

"Are you to be a knight then?" one of the girls said.

You swallowed again but on a different emotion. It had always been your dream to be a knight, as distant as it seemed.
>>
bonuses being dependent heavily on quality of equipment makes sense, considering how important that shit was irl.

Even the best fighter will get rekt if he has a broken club fighting against an amateur in full plate.
>>
"I think you'd make a fine knight, if how you fought Harry is anything to judge you by," Linette said, "Ser Edric of the Rose Hall, it has a fine ring to it."

You liked to hear her call you that. She had a sweet voice, soft and lyrical with a sweetness to it to match her smile.

You ate a little more of the sweet bread. She poured you a cup of elderberry cordial to go with it, its taste subtle within the clean water.

"What sort of knight would you be though?" she asked, "Would you seek service with a high lord, or stay with your trueborn family?"

>say: I mean to be a hedge knight, see all the Seven Kingdoms
>say: I'd like to find a place with a high lord, one of the lords paramount mayhaps
>say: I mean to serve my trueborn father, and my brother after him
>say: I mean to join the Kingsguard, and have my name written in the White Book
>>
>>5514551
>say: I mean to be a hedge knight, see all the Seven Kingdoms
Easy choice.
>>
>>5514551
Adventure awaits

>say: I mean to be a hedge knight, see all the Seven Kingdoms
>>
>say: I'd like to find a place with a high lord, one of the lords paramount mayhaps

No way he'd want to stay and serve his shithead of a brother, as mixed as the feelings for his father are. Our boi aims high
>>
>>5514551
Write-in
>I mean to be a landed knight, perform a deed so worthy to be rewarded with land and a keep of my own
>>
>>5514551
>say: I mean to be a hedge knight, see all the Seven Kingdoms
>>
>>5514551
>>say: I'd like to find a place with a high lord, one of the lords paramount mayhaps

Hmm ambitions a thing we haven't thought of yet and while we're still kinda naive as a kid we've been made aware of how limiting our bastardry is.
>>
>>5514511
Quality of equipment is going to come into play, but only when there's a real discrepency between the two combatants (or groups), right now it hasn't been a factor except in horses.

Like if you run against a swordsman with a Valyrian steel sword or the current Sword of the Morning using Dawn, that's potentially going to be a bad time for Edric. Or getting caught naked against a knight in full plate.

>>5514519
You're not wrong but I do think I need to bring in a bit more nuance that doesn't slow things down.

>>5514544
I do want to keep opposed rolls, so something like combat stances might be the way to do it. Maybe forfeit an attack roll to negate an opponent's success or something.

Also Edric is only 13. As he gets older and if he keeps training, a bigger skill gap will develop between him and all but the greatest knights of his era.

If you guys have any ideas I'm happy to listen, just keep in mind I'd like to keep the rules light and narrative focused.
>>
>>5514551
This is a good end goal though >>5514559. Retire as a undisputable member of nobility, having founded his own dynasty.
>>
>>5514551
>>say: I'd like to find a place with a high lord, one of the lords paramount mayhaps
>>
>>5514559
>support
>>
>>5514551
>>5514559
Support. Ascending to nobility practically requires striking out on one's own to find a deed worthy of the reward, thus answering her question.
>>
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>>5514567
>I do want to keep opposed rolls, so something like combat stances might be the way to do it. Maybe forfeit an attack roll to negate an opponent's success or something.
Well the good news is opponent AV rolls and counter rerolls act as effectively that within the system. As for combat stances I'd suggest lifting or at least tailoring them off Forgottens template slightly depending on what you want.

ultimately of course the issue does comes down to how much resolution you want to give and how light or narrative focused you want to be.
>>
>>5514559
+1 Support.
It's a good goal, and a great fuck you to everyone who said it couldn't be done

ALSO DAEMON IS THE ONE TRUE KING
>>
>>5514559
I think this is the clear winner

Edric has aspirations
>>
It was not a dream you had ever shared before, but it was hard to resist answering the question from one as sweet faced as Linette.

"I mean to be a landed knight," you said, "To perform a deed so worthy as to be rewarded with land and a keep of my own." Then out of nervousness, drank deeper the elderberry cordial.

"Land and a castle," she said, "With a lady as a wife, perchance?" her friends giggled and you blushed. "But with peace with the Dornish now certain, where great deeds are there left to do? When the seven kingdoms truly become one, we will be a land at peace."

"Until the next Lord Reaver of Pyke is roused at least," one of the girls said, and now you knew her colours. She was from House Grimm of Greyshield. "My lord father, Donnal Grimm, is ever in need of swords to drive off pirates. And we have land there, if you don't mind seagulls."

"Or perhaps the Free Cities will make another play for the Stepstones," said another, the one with the Florent ears, "And there are always pirates to hunt out there. Perhaps King Daeron could give you a tower in the Stepstones, to protect us all from pirates."

Desolate, unlovely places, and not quiet what you had in mind.

"Or the North, or the Vale, where wildling raiders abound," Linette said, "But such foes are hardly worthy of song and praise, no? They're the foes of hedge knights and sell swords, not great heroes."

The North sparked a thought. "If I killed a giant..." you murmurred, not sure if giants were more than bed fables.

"If you think a Dornish marriage means peace, you're more naive than I thought Linette," it was the tough voice of Catling, come over on her dark Goblin. She dismounted, pulling off her helm to show a sweat stained mop of black hair. "Many in the Stormlands grumble about the match, as they do here. King Daeron ends one problem, but lays the ground work for another, I think."

"Well its certainly not what I think is proper," said the Florent girl, "They killed our Young Dragon and stole his crown. Rewarding that with a marriage? It makes the realm look weak, and why I think the Free Cities may attack us, given the chance. A king who prefers weddings to wars, what does that tell our enemies across the Narrow Sea?"

"Or the Ironborn," said the Grimm girl, grimly.

"He's not even the rightful king," the one who mentioned the Stepstones said, then shut up at once, having said what should never be spoken. It sent a hot prickle across your skin.

Catling stared at the girl for a moment, then shook her head with a grin, dropped to a squat and took one of Linette's bread rolls. "You baked these?" she asked Linette, who nodded, "Best in the Reach they say."

"Do you think you would be knighted, Lady Storm?" the Grimm girl asked, "Its never happened before."
>>
Catling laughed. "I've no interest in knighthood. I may go North though, they care less if a woman carries a sword than us southrons. Mayhap take sail, and go sell sword in the Free Cities or beyond. I've always wanted to see Quarth, or YiTi. Find out if the tales of blood sorcerors and manticores are true. I was going to ask if you wanted to come with me, Edric, but sounds like you have your own dreams."

"Are we talking about dreams?" Black Roddy said, "I had a dream last night about the fairest pair of twins you ever saw, Ella and Bella, but you won't want to hear about that. Hey cousin, moon less over the Dornish boy and pass the waterskin." The Florent girl, who must be Roddy's trueborn cousin, blushed and passed him a skin. He squirted water into his mouth. "Goes a treat," he said, "after wrangling your brother, Edric. I've never seen a noble boy less suited to a horse. Fireball couldn't fix what's wrong with him."

He sat and started eating. Black Roddy was darker skinned than even you were, with short springy hair of a texture you'd never seen. You'd not met a Summer Islander before, and though a lot of him aws unusual his face still had the Florent touches, the thin nose and jug ears he shared with his cousin.

Catching you staring, he said around food, "Our grandfather was surprised when I came out this colour, to be sure, though not half as angry as my mother's lord husband. What about yours?"

"I was born before my lord father married," you said.

"Ooh, a romance, or a tryst?" Linette asked.

Your face became stony, and Linette didn't miss the change, her expression growing soft and apologetic. Either way it had ended in the birthing bed.

"All that matters is you ride well, and fight like a demon," Roddy said, "I've not seen Harry that scuffed in a while."

"You ride better," you said, because it was true. Black Roddy shrugged.

"For me its the Kingsguard," he said, "Not right away though, I'm in no rush for a vow of chastity."

"You'd be lucky to make it in the Night's Watch," Catling said.

"I'm the right colour for a crow, though," Roddy replied. Catling laughed a rough boyish laugh that oddly made you blush. "Black Roddy they all call me, like there's some other Roddy running around, but I've yet to hear anyone call this bastard 'Dornish Ned'." He jerked a thumb at you and grinned to gauge your reaction.

Your back stiffened by instinct.

>say: call me that and there'll be calling you Dead Roddy
>say: a fine enough nickname, if you think it fits
>>
>>5514658
>>say: a fine enough nickname, if you think it fits
>>
>>5514658
>I don't like the sound of Ned, why don't you try to come up with a better one?
>>
(I'll be back tomorrow)
>>
>I don't like the sound of Ned, why don't you try to come up with a better one?
>>
>>5514658
>cringe internally and externally
>say: You suck at making names. I pitty your children.
>>
>>5514658
>>5514691
+1
>>
>>5514658
>>5514664
+1

Also shout out to Catling that to perform a great deed, first we must become a great knight. We might yet join her after all, for the experience of course. Nothing more :^)
>>
>>5514658
>I don't like the sound of Ned, why don't you try to come up with a better one?
>>
>>5514691
This.
>>
>>5514691
This.
>>
>>5514691
This.
>>
>>5514691
Supporting, we aint in the north.
>>
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I went to sleep after reading this quest from the beginning and had a sex dream involving Alyssa and Marisa. Same ages as in the quest :^)
>>
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>>5514895
>>
>>5514658
Be sweet with the girls. Edric could use to be with some who doesnt constantly insult him or send boys to beat him up. Also good time to practice kissing
>>
>>5514915
seconding this either to practice and impress Alyssa or make her jealous
>>
>>5514690
>Support
>>
>>5514658
>say: call me that and there'll be calling you Dead Roddy

>>5514691
>wants to be in the Kingsguard
Not as cutting as you think it anon
>>
>>5514691
Support kek
>>
>>5514658
>Sounds more like an barkeep's nickname than a knight if you ask me.
>>
>>5514996
Guy’s not too keen on taking any vows of celibacy, remember? He’ll probably churn out a few bastards of his own.
>>
>>5514996
I would rather go north than stagnate in the kings guard
>>
>>5514691
This.

Also can we start tugging on the red hand thread and ask if Harry knows about the Fallow family. One of them had dinner with the Westerlings.

WRVGJR
>>
>>5514691
writing up this write-in
>>
As nicknames went you'd heard few worse, and couldn't keep your distaste from showing on your face.

"You've no gift for making names, Roddy," you said, "I pity whatever future children you might have."

"So you don't like Ned, ey?" he said, "Ric then."

"Or Edric is fine," you said, and hoped he wouldn't press the matter.

"He'd make a poor Kingsguard with children running around," Linette said.

"But he wouldn't be the first," the Florent girl said, with more meaning than was decent.

You had their names soon after. Roderick's cousin was Jocelyn Florent, and the daughter of Lord Grimm was Tabitha. It was Tabitha poured you your next cup, and smiled in a way you weren't used to girls smiling at you. Another bastard girl, Orlena, plucked the raisins from her bun and flicked them to watching magpies, who warred over the fruit.

It was easy to forget you were here for a purpose other than enjoying the summer sun with a gaggle of girls. It was pleasant in fact, made more so by the ansence of your sister. Though that did trouble you a little, just a tiny bit. You'd given her your word you'd protect her, and for a moment you worried where she might be.

But the thought was forgotten when the others rode over to join you, Harry, Joff, and Timmet, with Gareth stomping over from where he left Jester, sitting to glower at nothing from the frustration of his day.

Tim Flowers found a lute and started to serenade the picnicking girls. He was a fairer singer than swordsman, and his fingers strummed the lute with more skill than he handled a horse.

Your brother tucked into a haunch of honey glazed ham, quaffing down the elderberry cordial as if he hadn't known food or drink in days. A few days of training wouldn't strip him of his fat, particularly how he ate afterward.

"I heard there's a mystery knight in the lists," Linette said, "A stranger calling himself the Knight of the Black Rush."

"There's always one," said Harry, enjoying his own slice of ham with famished relish.

"Must be from the Crownlands," Catling said.

"Or wants people to think so," Tim added, "A mystery knight, eh? I wonder who will unmask him, if any. Could be a song in that."

"A tourney is a dull affair without a few mystery knights," he said, "I remember one time Lord Tyrell unhorsed a mystery knight who had menaced the lists. He had unhorsed half the knights of the Reach, and seemed bound to win until he crossed lances with the Longthorn. Unhorsed he was discovered to be a peasant, a smallfolk soldier who had stolen his master's arms to enter."

"What did Lord Leo do with him?" asked Tabitha Grimm, "Grant him a knighthood?"

"Hanged him," Timmet said, "Strung out from a tree branch to look over the golden roses of Highgarden as he died. Tis a wicked crime to pretend to be a knight. Had the poor fool won though it might have been a different story."

"A fair punishment," Jocelyn Florent said.
>>
It was Harry raised his eyebrows at that. "Fair? Mayhap, and I suppose if you make a gamble like that you'd best win. But I would sooner have a knight like that by my side, someone willing to risk it all for a fortune than someone born to their horse and armour."

"They must do things different in the Westerlands," Jocelyn Florent said, "In the Reach its known, you can't make a pony into a warhorse. It's in the blood and the breeding, the noble blood of knights shows true, while a peasant no matter how bold will always be a peasant."

Harry shook his head as if she spoke pure nonsense, but it was nonsense you'd heard plenty of in your life. Character showed in the blood, and the blood of Dorne was thick with treachery and deceit. It had kept many from being close to you, the dark tone to your skin some mark of your character. A lustful, treacherous Dornishman waiting to betray them all to his true countrymen. A viper in the roses.

For a moment you crossed glances and shared a moment of unspoken kinship in the firm, unhappy press of his lips. No doubt he'd been raised on the stories of foreign Summer Islanders, and why their ways were somehow in his blood, and made him unfit to be a knight of Brightwater Keep.

"Sing something cheerful," Linette commanded her brother, "Enough of this gloomy talk."

"Cheerful?" he said with a grin, "Well there's a song I know about a bear. A bear, a bear and a maiden fair."

Linette's nose wrinkled in a laugh, dimples in her rosy cheeks. "Shall you dance with a bear?" Timmet said as his sister hopped to her feet.

He launched into song, and she danced along to the clap of her friends, her voice joining his.

'A bear there was, a bear, a bear!
All black and brown, and covered with hair.
The bear! The bear!

Oh come they said, oh come to the fair!
The fair? Said he, but I'm a bear!
All black and brown, and covered with hair!'

A swirl of skirts flashed pale calves as her barefeet kneaded the blanket, her friends all laughing her on. She was as fair a dancer as her brother was a singer.

'Oh, sweet she was, and pure and fair!
The maid with honey in her hair!
Her hair! Her hair!
The maid with honey in her hair!'

And when they reached the chorus again everyone sang 'All black and brown and covered with hair!'

But when Linette sang those words you swore she cast a glance to you, and then to your shock grasped your wrist.

"Dance, Edric, you moody brown bear!" she laughed, urging you to your feet. Harry gave you a push to get you on your feet.

Dancing was not something you'd ever done, not with a living real girl. Not one with a glowing dimpled smile and golden curls that wrapped her shoulders like a shawl of curls. You stuttered and blushed and very much felt like one of those dancing bears with their iron shoes, as she grabbed your hands and urged you to spin with her in a country smallfolk dance, laughing all the while to the lute strings and the claps of her friends.
>>
'She kicked and wailed, the maid so fair,
But he licked the honey from her hair.
Her hair! Her hair!
He licked the honey from her hair!

Then she sighed and squealed and kicked the air!
My bear! She sang. My bear so fair!'

And it occurred to you now for the very first time the song wasn't just a silly song about a bear and your blush only burned deeper.

But before the song could truly finish the claps of your friends were drowned out by another drumming, and Linette stopped in her wheeling, puffing for breath, to see a group of horses come ariding down to your paddock, and you felt a queer stirring in your belly, with an urge to put yourself between her and the horsemen, as Timmet's song stopped unfinished and a fearful hush fell on the group.

Harry looked to Catling and she gave him a nod as they both rose up, Harry with a hand to his sword, her with a hand to her axe.

Gareth ran. You watched him pelt away across the field. Coward, you thought.

They weren't armoured these riders, but they were armed and there was a dozen of them in all.

The device of the lead rider was the three black castles of House Peake, the rider a knight, and behind him his squire, glaring. Gormon Peake, come with his knight. And not just him, the Tarly boys, the two Sams were with him, as were knights of House Bulwer and Beesbury.

"Ser Peake," Harry said.

The knight didn't listen but scoured the clutch of young teenagers. "I'm looking for the Dornish bastard who dared lay hands on my nephew," he said. His gaze settled on you. "A Dornish rat who thinks he can offend our House and get away with it."

Roderick stood, face hardened with a hand on his sword. The girls huddled back from the riders, quiet and fearful.

"Ser Marwin," Catling said, "The only rat here is the one you call a squire."

"Watch your tongue," he snarled at her, "I've a mind to do for you what your lord grandfather won't. This is not Storm's End, there's no old Royce Baratheon around to tolerate your unnatural manner. Mayhap a firm raping will teach you to leave swords be."

"Seven hells," someone muttered, you think it was Tim.

Catling, in dead silence, drew her axe.

He sneered. "Girl, do you see this sword?" he said, "This is Orphan-Maker, Valyrian steel."

"I'm only here for the Dornish boy," Ser Marwin Peake said, "He must answer for his crime."

"He can keep his life," Gormon said, "I only want a hand."

Harry laughed and drew his sword, standing before you. Timmet, Joffrey, and Roderick did the same, with Catling stepping to stand shoulder to shoulder with Harry.

"Come and take him then!" Harry said with a jolly grin, as if inviting a girl to dance.

>draw your sword and stand with your brothers
>surrender yourself to Ser Marwin before things went too far
>>
(I'm a long winded motherfucker. Going to try to be more concise in the future)
>>
>>5515537
>are you aware that they threw the fist punch?

>draw your sword and stand with your brothers
we need our hand if were going to fight in the tourney.
>>
>draw your sword and stand with your brothers

if this bastard wants a hand he can come and earn it.
>>
>>5515537
>draw your sword and stand with your brothers
>>
>>5515537
>draw your sword and stand with your brothers
As if there was any other option.

>>5515538
Not at all, It in no way overstayed it's welcome.
>>
>>5515539
Rather weak question. If we're gonna say something, call out his nephew for being a giant pussy who picks a fight then calls his uncle to fight for him after he loses.
>>
>>5515537
>draw your sword and stand with your brothers

Well no one likes the cunt Peakes so here we go.
>>
>>5515546
hey it's a reasonable attempt to potentially stop the fight (even if I don't think it's likely). you know give him an out.
>>
>>5515537
>>draw your sword and stand with your brothers
Peakes yet again cementing themselves as Codd-tier asshats.
>>
>>5515537
>draw your sword and stand with your brothers
>Peake's blood must be weak, seems all you lot know how to do is scream for help
>>
>>5515556
I know that's what you were trying to do but it's a vain hope. Notice he accused Edric of "laying hands" and "offending their house", you really think he would just go "Oh my nephew started it? Guess it's my bad then." when this is the angle he's coming from? No sense of honour or justice, merely hurt egos.
>>
>>5515537
>surrender yourself to Ser Marwin before things went too far
There's no way he'd be allowed to take the hand of a Lord's son without going through the right channels and seeking proper authority first.
Not for something as petty as this.
They probably think Edric is a dornish manservant instead of a Lord's son.
Better to step forward and explain who Edric is and what actually happened.
They'll probably still want blood, but there's no way they'd risk the backlash that would happen with something like maiming if they were serious about that to start with.
>>
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>>5514895
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>>5515537
>>draw your sword and stand with your brothers
fuck em
>>
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>>5515537
>>draw your sword and stand with your brothers
>Your squire is Gormon Peake yes? I remember... he squealed like a sow when I bashed in his little piggy nose.

Or something along those lines. Call him what he is, a pig, and when a pig squeals its best to put it out of it's misery
>>
>>5515537
>draw your sword and stand with your brothers

Your cunt squire bid me leave when I was charged with protecting my sister by lord clover, I said no and he took offence to that.
>>
>>5515538
You're fine don't worry about it three posts isnt long.
>>
'draw your sword and stand with your brothers' wins

Edric's a fighter through and through

writing
>>
>>5515603
Papa Clover didn't raise no bitch, Peake on the other hand.
>>
Fuckers better check their beds for scorpions tonight
>>
Rage rushed through your ears at the threat. You loosed your sword from your scabbard, stepping up beside Harry. A wall of swords pointed outward, your knuckles white on the hilt. Rage and fear in equal measure. If Ser Peake meant to maim you, he'd have a fight out of it.

"You can have the hand," you forced the words through a tight throat, glaring at Gormon Peake, "And the sword along with it."

Beside you Harry breathed heavy like a dog too long in the sun. He wasn't the only one. The smell of their sweat, every sound of a swallow or snort from a nostril, became immediate to you as nothing had before. You heard Catling's grip tighten on the haft of her axe. The sound of a fly buzzed louder than you thought possible, its little legs crawling up your neck.

A dozen riders against six, and those six young, untested and on foot. But it put uncertainty on Ser Marwin's face, for all his boast of a Valyrian steel sword.

A terrible, wonderful fear raced through you, seeing now the world narrow to Gormon Peake's face. Whatever else happened, you'd have him at least.

"Gormon Peake has a churlish reek," Timmet sang softly beneath his breath, "His cowardice stinks from here."

"Shall we start the dancing?" Harry asked, his grin wolfish between boney large cheeks.

Six young animals, spoiling for a fight.

"What in the seven hells?" a high noble voice you never expected to hear called, from a horse at the gallop, broke over the tension and turned heads to see Lady Marisa riding down the paddock side-saddle, her brother Ser Lincoln with her as well as Ser Hobb. Gareth sat behind Ser Lincoln in the saddle, pale and anxious.

"Lady Clover," Ser Peake said.

Your friends eased but you kept your sword up. If they thought Marisa Clover would be their saviour, you weren't so naive.

She brought her horse to a stop between your friends and the Peake gang, glaring wide-eyed at Ser Marwin.

"Explain yourself, ser," she snapped, "What is the meaning of this?"

You were surprised to see she was not unarmed, but had a sheathed sword across her lap that she gripped tightly, and you remembered House Redlark was a Marcher House.

"A great dishonour was done, my lady," Ser Marwin said, "The Dornish bastard assaulted my nephew, the heir of Starpike. We're here to deliver justice."

"I want his hand!" Gormon called from behind his knightly uncle.

"A hand?" Lady Marisa said, "You won't have a finger, no, not even a fingernail! The bastard belongs to the Rose Hall, blood of my lord husband. If you want justice, ask it from his lord father or swallow your tongue!" And at those words she seemed ready to draw the sword she was carrying.

Your sword began to lower, more in shock than anything else. Never had Lady Marisa spoke in your defence before.

"Yes," Ser Lincoln said, "And perhaps we can have the truth too, such as your sweet nephew following my dear niece like a tomcat down an alley. Chivalrous breed, the sons of Starpike."
>>
"He must face some punishment," Ser Marwin said, less willing to be bullish with a highborn lady than a gang of bastard children, "A Dornish boy laying hands on the heir to a great House, it cannot go unanswered."

"An arrogant House," Lady Marisa said with such ugly contempt it made Harry laugh. "I'll have the boy punished, be sure of it." They began then to back down, to withdraw. "I'm not finished!" she spat, "Samwyle, Samwyck!"

The Tarly boys, called out by name, looked nervous.

"This best be the last time you side against mine House," she said, "Or Horn Hill will discover the Rose Hall has thorns of steel."

"M'lady," Samwyle had the sense to mumble, but Samwyck only glared hot in embarassment.

"Now you may go!" she said with dismissive majesty.

Then she looked down at you from atop her horse, and in her eyes was dark anger and contempt.

You were hard. It was embarassing and unwanted, but you were hard, and you dropped your sword hand to cover it.

"Back to the camp," she ordered, "Now."
>>
(be back in a sec)
>>
>>5515630
>You were hard
Edric isn't alone there, whew lads.
>>
>>5515630
>You were hard. It was embarassing and unwanted, but you were hard, and you dropped your sword hand to cover it.

Goddamit Edric. I dont blame you but goddamnit
>>
>>5515630
>>5515632
You guys are masochists.
>>
>>5515537
>draw your sword and stand with your brothers

>Stall. Hoping that although coward your brother is a smart one and brings help.
>>
>>5515630
>You were hard. It was embarassing and unwanted, but you were hard, and you dropped your sword hand to cover it.

kek battlelust or assertive stepmum? and goddamn i did not see this coming.
>>
Also to note the Tarly boys were against us thats not great...
>>
>>5515638
Was established early that Edric has a thing for his stopmother. He has inherited his fathers' kink for willfull and domineering women
>>
>>5515642
That or he's a confused horny teenager
>>
>>5515642
I wouldn't say it was a "thing" more like horny teenager sees hot woman and goes awooga, many such cases. Though this getting hard by being looked at with angry and contemptful eyes is really fucking weird.
>>
>>5515630
Aren't we wearing armour? Would it really show thru all the layers? Or are we a donkey down there?
>>
>>5504011
Supporting. Surely we can do both
>>
>>5515650
You okay anon? Are you lost? Need a hand?
>>
>>5515634
I mean yeah, but this isn't that until she decides to take a switch to Edric for his transgressions.
>>5515645
>or
*and
>>5515650
Little late for that vote, anon.
>>
>>5515650
Appreciate the support but a bit late
>>
Your lord father frowned. He sat on a stool in front of his tent, leaning on the pommel of his sword, the scabbarded blade thrust point down between his legs. He was frowning at you, standing before him in your dirty tunic, a crusty scab dried on your top lip.

Lady Marisa stood at his shoulder, glaring at you over it.

Whatever heat had come over you had cooled with your march through the tourney grounds. Your friends had accompanied you part of the way. 'Friends', it was a strange but pleasant new thing to have.

"We'll get that prick Gormon in the melee," Harry had promised before leaving you in the care of your lord father.

Who now frowned.

Gareth and Alyssa both watched from the sidelines with their uncle Ser Lincoln, who was half into a cup of wine. Ser Hobb glared meanly, and other servants watched, including Alyssa's septa and the various soldiers your father had brought with him.

"You beat senseless a son of Lord Peake?" he said.

"Left him unconcious in the mud," Ser Hobb said as if he had been there.

"And now he demands your hand," your father said, "Well he'll not have that."

"But he must have something," Lady Marisa said, "A flogging at least. Nothing too severe. Enough to teach a lesson."

Your father now frowned at his lady wife.

"A flogging," your father said. You shivered. Ser Hobb grinned. He looked to you with a question in his face. "And this would be justice, Edric?"

>beg your case, call on Alyssa, she'll tell them what happened
>call this out for the farce it is, you'd be beaten anyway
>remain silent and take the flogging
>>
>>5515656
>beg your case, call on Alyssa and Gareth, she'll tell them what happened

We only fought because he wanted to be alone with Alyssa and when we refused to leave when he demanded it, they threw the first punch. We merely acted in defense of our sister as we had promised father.
>>
>>5515656
>>call this out for the farce it is, you'd be beaten anyway

Fucks sake we were only doing what he asked us to do and those cunts started it when we said no, the boy had friends not our fault they left him in the mud after they kicked the shit out of us in 3/4v1
>>
>>5515656
>remain silent and take the flogging

I'll not have Edric beg like a bitch, nor mouth off at the powers that saved him and his friends from likely death.
>>
>>5515656
>beg your case, tell them what happened and call on Gareth
Alyssa is a bitch she will only make things worse.
>>
>>5515656
>call this out for the farce it is, any punishment you would face is purely to soothe their wounded pride.
Idk if this is the right way to phrase it but the point is:
- Don't beg like a bitch.
- Don't go muh opression.
- State your case.
>>
>>5515659
>>5515665
>Explaining the situation and calling on eyewitnesses is being a bitch
I sure hope you guys never go to court. With your logic even hiring a lawyer to defend you would be a bitch move.
>>
>>5515659
+1

Agreed.
>>
>>5515659
What a dumb thing to do. We literally have witnesses and the right. why should an innocent person take punishment ?
>>
>>5515659
>do as dad says
>cunt starts a fight over it
>we defend ourselves
>get the shit beat out of us
>Said cunt esclates to his knight uncle because he's sore

There is no justice in eating this shit fuck it
>>
>>5515669
What the fuck do you think I meant by "state your case" anon? You think a lawyer desperatly begs to the judge and jury? At least not a good lawyer.
>>
>>5515674
Anon when it says "Beg our case" we are not actual begging on our knees
>>
>>5515656
>>beg your case, call on Alyssa, she'll tell them what happened
>>
>>5515674
You didn't vote to call in witnesses. You voted to throw a temper tantrum.
>>5515672
You don't understand anon defending yourself is acting like a bitch. Bending over and taking it like a good boy is a chad move.
>>
I bet this is fucking Alyssa's doing
>>
>>5515656
>>beg your case, call on Alyssa, she'll tell them what happened
anons would rather take a beating like a bitch instead of fighting for themselves, if alyssa lies its just more fuel for the hate-fuck later down the line
>>
>>5515675
Maybe not, but any begging implies desperation.

>>5515677
What are you talking about? I voted for no such thing. I voted to call out this hooplah by stating our case with confidence. There implied that we tell the whole story and use the evidence that we have. Don't put words in my mouth.
>>
>You told me to look out for them, I did because you ask. But if this is justice then so be it.
>>
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Since a number of people here do not speak English it seems here is a helpful tip for you on what the word "beg" means in this context.
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>>5515682
Nice of you to crop out the two infinitely more used definitions out of your screenshot. Never have I heard someone choose to use the word "beg" to make a formal request over using other words.
>>
>>5515682
for clarity and to cool the fires, yes this is the definition I intended
>>
>>5515684
lol
lmao
>>
I do enjoy seeing you guys argue your cases though
>>
We should also bring up the fact that it was a 5v1 and they dogpilled us
>>
>>5515686
And that's all she wrote, try an actual argument instead of smugness next time.

>>5515688
I rather enjoy arguing so Im always pleased when it comes up in quests, both IC and OOC.
>>
>>5515693
Try to not get BTFO next time
>>
>>5515656
>Accept flogging but call on Gareth to tell what happened.
>>
>>5515681
>>5515659
Supporting these.

If Alyssa isn't willing to make our case for us here than she's not going to do it anyways. I say we take the flogging without complaint. It'll win the respect of everyone present, prevent conflict with the other houses, and we'll have some badass scars. We'll just have to play it smarter during the tourney, but also taking the punishment may prevent the pissed off nobles from seeking us out specifically to fuck us too.
>>
>>5515656
>explain the circumstances of what happened and how we acted rightly by our sister and House

No begging, no throwing it to our sister

Explain the facts to our Lord father and then he can make a judgement
>>
>>5515694
You had no argument. The one who had was >>5515675 not you, now move to reddit will you? You'll fit right in.
>>
>>5515704
>>5515694
chill a little
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>>5515656
>explain the circumstances of what happened and how we acted rightly by our sister and House
i dislike for Edric to take any flogging, without him even saying his own piece and truth. In fact i oppose any kind of silence on this.
It doesn't matter if our father, will just go with whatever the harpy and her follower says, it matters to Edric and his spirit though. The boy mind and spirit, keeps being harassed and attacked as much if not more than his body. It needs to grow, not just take hits.
And i prefer to give Edric the reminder that he has the right to talk, and stand this ground to them.
This isn't home either, this is the castle of the high lords of the reach.
>>
>>5515656
>explain the circumstances of what happened and how we acted rightly by our sister and House
>>
>>5515656
I'll change from >>5515660 to
>explain the circumstances of what happened and how we acted rightly by our sister and House
I'd still have Gareth's confirmation though
>>
"We were walking through the stalls when the Peake boy and his friends accosted my sister, they then demanded i leave so they could be alone with her, when i refused they attacked me. When i defended myself his friends swarmed me, turning a two versus one fight into a five versus one. I am innoncent of any charges laid before me"

Something like that for defense
>>
I'm all for supporting explaining it I'd just like to do it hotly because its bullshit.
>>
>>5515714
>>5515714
I agree with this in principle, but this honor stuff will get us killed while we're a bastard. There are benefits to taking the hits as I mentioned here:
>>5515702

I think we should put laurels to our name on tourney grounds and with steel. Not over this.
>>
>>5515723
We wont win shit, we will admit guilt in a crime and it will further fuck us over. We will just be a bastard who assaulted a highborn son
>>
>>5515723
Taking the flogging will not win Edric any respect because every adult present views that as something that's ought to happen because Edric didn't explain shit
>>
>>5515723
Also taking the flogging will give Edric a penalty to combat
Good luck winning the tournament when your back is one big bruise
>>
>>5515656
> beg your case, call on Alyssa, she'll tell them what happened

Just tell our dad he told us to look out for our siblings. We were doing what he told us. The 4 boys were trying to get our sister drunk and take advantage of her.

Also he did tell us tourneys exist to make friends and make enemies. Mission accomplished. The end result is we got our younger brother some sparring companions and some extra body guards to ensure he makes it to the end. That might cool dad’s fire.

Also lol that mom is protective over who gets to beat down on us and who doesn’t.
>>
Pros to getting whipped
>Alyssa probably gets off on it
>''Cool'' scars

Negatives
>Wounded for the melee
>Family now thinks we assaulted a highborn son I actually wouldn't say no to the deliquent route
>>
>>5515724
>>5515726
Hot take and perhaps a harebrained idea, but what if we explain directly to everyone that we're innocent, however, that folks should whip us anyways as it would be the politically convenient thing to do for our House? Reverse psychology our father as an honorable man who still loves us. This may push him to actually *not* whip us or at the very least lower our "punishment".

I believe that making our argument *can* win over our father, but will cause further friction with our stepmother which is dangerous. Our stepmom clearly considers this political aspect so this may win some points with her, and our father who sees our sacrifice, will surely look upon us with much greater favor and will be more lenient with us in the future in any conflicts with Lady Marisa.

It is unlikely we will win the tourney anyways if Harry Hill is our equal and we can expect similar opponents. I find the prospect of winning the melee with lashes on our back in front of those who know of handicap all the more sweeter lol.
>>
>>5515656
>>5515729
+1 Support

Little Gormon Peake
Opened his mouth to speak
And out came a smell
Worse then seven hells
Like shit flowing down a creek
>>
>>5515656
supporting the below
>>5515681
Better to tell our father what happened and accept his judgement
>>
>>5515720
>>5515723
And i will have to disagree with you, i want Edric to see his honor has something to defend and one of the things he needs to keep away from his enemies that readily try to gnaw at what little he has. Politically this might be bad, but his own house barely see Edric has something to protect. In their eyes he is : a plaything or a protector or was it a object of a false romantic delusion that will never be, a disgusting mutt to punish with any excuse, a little kid to beat to almost death at any given opportunity, a better kid to be jealous of, a minor military asset to throw at an enemy in the future, a possible-squire to take with no effort and a reminder of a lover to keep but not love.


>>5515731
i wouldn't mind becoming "the black terror of rose hall", "the dark knight of the reach", "the dreary thorn snake". But in whatever case, more spirit breaking would be bad for any path of Edric we choose. The boy isn't unbreakable and will need to receive a piece of comfort or peace, sooner or later.
Perhaps his friends can aid him in this. If not, he will break with more humiliations. Which it s a path of his own.
>>
>>5515755
Would you be amendable to proclaiming our innocence and then accepting the lashes instead and I mentioned here: >>5515735

Lady Marisa has a sense of honor which is shown in her protection of us, but this goes only as far her's and her lord husband's House. Her hatred of us is due to what we represent as a bastard, a liability, a loose cannon. Protecting Alyssa may be acting in the interests of our House, but I think going about proclaiming our innocence in this way isn't. We can have our cake and eat it too by making our case that we are innocent, but also willingly accept the punishment.

It will do nothing to change the Lady's perspective of us a reckless *boy* by merely trying to protect our *own* honor, when maturity and foresight for the bigger picture for what is at stake if we are to come into conflict with other powerful noble Houses is what a NOBLE would do.

Doing this will be the best political choice, not just for the family name, but for us internally. House Clover will view our decision as a sacrifice instead of a just punishment since we proclaim ourselves innocent. We may convince our honorable and loving father to not whip us while scoring points with Lady Marisa this way.
>>
>>5515758
Proclaiming innocnence and accepting guilt. This is not gonna work out as you think it will, never is gonna admire Edric or think he is being brave. They will think he is a dumb bastard who is probably guilty and got what he deserved. If we have honor and pride, defend it. Dont throw it away for some false spectacle
>>
>>5515759
Proclaiming innocence and sacrificing ourselves to demonstrate our strength of character, worthy of nobility, is how I would view it. It would defy expectations. They EXPECT us to lash out like an angry, selfish bastard boy.

I think the the context clues about how the members of House Clover has behaved thus far indicate that their motivations are more complicated than that if we read between the lines of Edric's young eyes.
>>
>>5515767
But we wouldnt sacrifice anything, we would not show strength of character or nobility. The same way a thief does not show strength of character by having his hand cut off. Also arguging our innocence and honor is not lashing out.
>>
>>5515769
>But we wouldnt sacrifice anything, we would not show strength of character or nobility
Yes we would. We are volunteering to accept physical punishment despite publicly stating that we are innocent in order to protect our House from conflict. Our father is honorable and he loves us, but we are still a bastard and our word is against Lady Marisa. By backing up our innocence with something this ballsy, it will lend credence to our character, and Lord Clover's honor and love for us will not have us whipped. Lady Marisa will not view our lack of punishment as *our* fault as much as it is a choice of our father's.

>The same way a thief does not show strength of character by having his hand cut off.
Anon. We are talking about a specific circumstance with specific interpersonal dynamics. This is not the same thing. I am also not saying that arguing our innocence and honor is lashing out, but our honor doesn't mean anything compared to the honor and safety of the House. That is the norm of Westerosi society. The other members of the house will not see our actions as anything but that because of this. That doesn't mean that this lashing out isn't justified, but I am saying that we should do so, and declare to accept the punishment anyways for all the reasons stated before.
>>
>>5515758
No deal we are on opposite positions for this vote, though i appreciate your tone.
I don't want to have that cake then, it this wicked and disingenuous, it may be bigger and prettier but in comparison to the little honor cake it is not worthy to even see a fork near it.
You are correct it is the best political choice, but for House Clover. Not Edric. Clovers and their servants have demonstrated again and again that they have no love or an ounce of care for Edric. When was the last time he received an hug ? A pat on the head ? A kiss on the cheek ? Anything at all, even the smallest of compliment that was genuine and from someone that actually cares and shows that care. His food, bed, clothes, armor, sword and even horse are much the same of some man at arms or light cavalrymen in the service of House Clover. If not worse.
>>
>>5515755
>more spirit breaking would be bad for any path of Edric we choose.
Yeah this is why I wanted Edric to get out and make friends since his homelife is largely just shit it will give him a source of positive reinforcement that isnt readily available at home, this is also why not just coping it on the chin and call it out where we can is important because it means we stop taking it so often and without incident.
>>
>>5515656
>remain silent and take the flogging
>>
I go for path where we accept punishment but allow opportunity for our half siblings to defend us. This will be strong indicator/test if after tournament we should stay in the house or leave it and look for glory elsewhere.
>>
>>5515787
>stay in the house
You have to be some kind of masochist to stay.
I'll vote to leave the first chance we get without any tests.
>>
>>5515779
Our father has a spot in his heart for us, but his duty to our family name means that there is not much that he can do. We ARE a bastard, highborn or not, so we have to work within those confines as long as politics are concerned until chaos creates a ladder for us for advancement if we are ambitious. If we show that we have a space for our family name within ourselves despite how we're treated, and willingly take punishment DESPITE demonstrating our innocence, I think our father's love and personal honor, instead of House honor, will define his decision, and I think we will not be whipped.

Alyssa has been a cunt, but this has started to change. She clearly cares for us on an interpersonal level despite the prejudice as a bastard as shown about her dreams. We also pulled her out of the fire with which is why we're here, and we'd be defying her expectations enough with our sacrifice for her to either come to our defense, or think highly of us.

Lady Marisa considers us a reckless bastard boy. By demonstrating our innocence and STILL taking punishment to prevent conflict towards the House that Marisa *knows* has not treated us well, will make her seriously reevaluate our character, which will serve us. Please consider changing your mind anon.
>>
>>5515794
What are you even talking about? Marisa hated Edric and his mother ever since she arrived at the Rose Hall. His recklessness has nothing to do with it and you will achieve nothing by trying to butter her up.
>>
>>5515799
As I stated here: >>5515758, Lady Marisa prevented a bloody fight that could've ended with us dead. She has a sense of honor centered around the honor of the House, despite her deep prejudice against us. I have no doubt that she has made a political calculation that this punishment "needs" to happen. If she merely wanted us dead, she would've allowed a fight to occur. It wasn't that she was trying to prevent poisoning the well with the Tarlys either, else she wouldn't have threatened them.

I am not saying we butter Marisa up for the sake of buttering her up, but I'm saying that a thawing will be a side effect of voluntarily taking the punishment on the chin while simultaneously proclaiming our innocence. Which *will* serve us politically. She is our greatest obstacle within the family for advancement.
>>
>>5515792
Mostly because we had barely any notable interactions and I would like to investigate some of the relationships within our household. And if anything we definitely should investigate/confront father about remains of our mother before we leave for good.

Also dealing with negative familial relationships is super rare in quest format. So opportunity to play thru them is really fun. When we leave our house this quest loosing that one unique thing it has going for it.
>>
>>5515805
Marisa was just pissed that they went behind her back and that the Tarly's sided against the house. That is literally all.

She hates Edric for existing, for being born. He is a thorn in her eye and the day he is gone she will sigh a breathe of relief that she can finally live her dream life with her husband a family. Getting whipped will literally do us no good
>>
>>5515805
I don't give a fuck about Marisa's honor or political calculation. The only thing she deserves is a sword trough her chest not Edric's consideration.
Edric will never be anything more than a bastard that need to be tormented for the crime of his existence no matter how virtuous he is. You are naive if you think anything he does will improve his standing in Marisa's eyes.
>>5515807
You do you anon but Edric will never truly realise his potential as long as he stays with his family. Beast he can hope for is to serve his father and later Gareth in one form or another. Pretty boring.
>>
>>5515794
It must be a little spot then, treated poorly as possible and often forgotten. He has every oppurtunity for show genuine love, but the "love" he shows often arrives with a slap after it to Edric.
Ser "i will kick your son nuts" Hobb : Your son has raped your daughter and i wasn't there for confirm this !
Dad : Not believable
3 seconds later
Dad : Did you rape your sister Edric ?
The worse thing dad keeps doing is not talking at all of Edric mom to him, and the worse thing he has already done was letting Marisa throw Edric mom bones away.

I am not sure if Alyssa has any care, she might just be lying. Wouldn't surprise me.
And Marisa considers us a mutt, that should be dead, but since she can't get that she will try to do anything else. Not one thing, every wicked thing in her book that she can attempt she will try to do it.

>>5515782
Same to me

>>5515792
i honestly want him to see something else, so a chance outside sound great. Anything really, i am fine even with some years of his life on the shield islands or on the road, greenlands and forests of the reach.
And also more time with his friends, gaining something positive actually helps him to grow.
>>
>>5515805
with Marissa I think her abusing us is allowed as long as its legitimised within the family, if someone like peak tries it its scandalous as we are a extension of the house and our father (even if a bastard)

>>5515807
I for one want to know why Ser Lincoln is such a winesop and apart from Alyssa and Father everyone else kinda sucks or is apathetic
>>
>>5515809
Read my previous posts carefully. I am saying we can pull a reverse psychology on our father so that we can not get whipped while improving our standing within the family. People are getting distracted about Marisa instead of paying attention to what I want to do. I would agree with your assessment with her character if not for the fact that her actions of standing up to noble houses to not get us killed in a fight is something that you're too dismissive of. I think that says volumes about her character to do something like that.Her thought process is certainly not of a traditional noble lady or a young girl like Alyssa.

>>5515812
You are the one that brought her up exclusively. I am explaining what I have extrapolated from the context clues about her character. My idea still stands. Also, who says that weak sickly Gareth will live for long? And that our father will live forever?

>>5515814
The fact that we're alive, training, eating good food, and attending tourneys and not abandoned for some stinking peasant family to adopt is a sign of love from him. It is certainly not Lady Marisa's decision that we're still around lol.

>>5515825
I agree, but on top of that this punishment needs to happen in her mind to prevent conflict and friction with the other houses. If it doesn't, there will be bad blood.
>>
>>5515828
Yeah I don't think thats the reason I'm about 80% certain its just the justification to abuse for causing trouble.
>>
>>5515828
>Just bend over and take it. Hopefully one day they will feel bad or maybe even die.
No thanks.
>>
>>5515832
I wouldn't be so sure. Anon, what do you think will happen if we get off scot free? Do you think that the Peakes will accept that a bastard beat-up a true-born son of a noble house? Even if we didn't, it is our words against theirs. They will want recompense, which was why they were looking for our hand. Lady Marisa is obviously a political mind, I wouldn't put it past her acumen to recognize this and take it into account.

>>5515834
It was rhetorical. We don't have to wait until they do.
>>
>>5515837
*even if we did it for good reason, it is our words against theirs.
>>
got sidetracked and came back to an interesting conversation.

I'm going to try to figure out the winning vote now
>>
>>5515779
>His food, bed, clothes, armor, sword and even horse are much the same of some man at arms or light cavalrymen in the service of House Clover. If not worse.

>>5515828
Like i said before he receives the same things Clover soldiers have, but worse just look at his horse. And he keeps being treated like shit, or openly scorned with little to no consequences because he is a bastard not one of their soldiers that need to be payed.
This is hardly love, and if it is a poor example of it.
And i doubt he has good food, he receives the same of the soldiers which is standard food. The good food would be the one of the Clovers, but they don't want him on their table.
The soldiers don't get this disrespect, and also get payed. For Edric is a miracle if he wasn't dead already.
And in regard to his father giving an okay to the tournament partecipation, Edric still received a slap to his face with the order of ensuring his brother is kept in the fight has long as possible and to let his brother win if Edric and Gareth are the last squires standing.

I really think is father is keeping him more for his dead mom, than him. He just doesn't want to say it.
>>
>>5515657
>>5515660
>>5515669
>>5515676
>>5515679
>>5515703
>>5515714
>>5515715
>>5515718
>>5515729
a lot of these votes are making similar arguments so I'm going to say 'argue your case' wins (should have used 'argue' to begin with instead of beg since it was a source of miscommunication)

the only real split in difference is how the case is being argued
>>
>>5515862
I am still supporting explaining things and then having Gareth corroborate. He was present right?
Say something like "The drunk guy demanded I leave and when I refused attacked me 2v1. When I defended myself 4 more showed up, overwhelmed me and beaten me up.".
Seems pretty reasonable. Surely even a bastard is allowed to defend himself when assaulted physically.
>>
>>5515865
Basically this though I lot more hotheaded ''this is bullshit!'' vibes maybe even through shade at Alyssa for her part.
>>
>>5515862
I way just explain what happened. We got jumped while looking after Alyssa.
If they wanted Edric flogged they should have been around a few days ago when Edric was beaten bloody by 5 guys.
If they wanna see it again, they better wait for and hope for the melee.
>>
>>5515869
should also probably mention his intentions were likely less than noble considering what his knight said about raping girls.
>>
>>5515871
Something like >>5515719 ?
>>
>>5515828
Gareth looks alive and healthy, even if fat and weak.
>>
>>5515696
This. Don't call Alyssa, she would just lie about it, but we should make clear to our dad that this wasn't just us looking for a fight.
>>
This is probably the fiercest argument I've seen in /qst/ over any single decision lol.
>>
>>5515887
Seems pretty standard to me.
>>
>>5515887
Their have been much MUCH worse by a considerable margin.
>>
lol the anon gladiatorial fights gave begun it seems.
>>
"All I did was defend myself, my lord," you said. Now was not the time to call him 'father', not in front of Lady Marisa. "The Peake boy and his friend, Humphrey Bulwer, were flirting with Alyssa, plying her with wine. They told me to leave, but I said no. You asked me to keep an eye on her." As had she, you left unsaid. No point mentioning Alyssa's strange dreams either.

"And when you wouldn't leave the Peake boy struck you," your father said. He looked like he was getting a headache, and here without Maester Wilard to cure it.

You shrugged. "He hit me, I hit him back. He went down, I didn't. Then his friends settled the matter. Would have kicked my brains out my nose if it wasn't for Harry Hill."

Lord Clover frowned. He didn't know Harry yet either.

"Joy Westerling's son," Lady Marisa murmurred, which brought a nod from your father. She glared at you still though, as if trying to discern your game. But you had no game, only the truth.

"Gareth was there," you said, "So was Alyssa."

"Really," your father looked to them now, "Is this accurate?"

"Um," Gareth said, "I was there, sort of, but I was distracted by the puppets. When I saw there was fighting I ran to get Uncle Lincoln. I really didn't see much. When I got back it was already over."

Maybe that was true enough, and you didn't expect Gareth to lie even if you didn't expect him to necessarily support you. Your brother was honest, bluntly so at times. It won him few friends.

"It's true, the boy found me," Ser Lincoln said, "I really didn't appreciate it. I was just getting to know this lovely acrobat named Tilly..."

"And you Alyssa, is this true?" your father asked.

her eyes flashed with familiar cruelty, but then she surprised you. She nodded.

"More or less, father," she said, "Though I wouldn't call it flirting, we were just talking. And I had my own wine. Still, that Peake boy was awfully rude..."

No great defense of your character, but more than you would have expected from her a week ago.

"Which is why we won't give the boy the bastard's hand, nor even a finger," Lady Marisa said, "A token flogging will satisfy their honour. Seven lashes for the seven gods."

Your father's jaw clenched. "It does not seem justice to me," he said.

His wife sighed as if he'd spoken the greatest foolishness she had ever heard. "You are a lord of the Reach, husband. A small lord, of a small holding. The Peakes have served as Hands of the King. They are brutes, but they are powerful brutes with many friends, who care as much for your justice as they do for your morning shits. Now its a fight between boys, but deny them even token satisfaction and it could become a feud between Houses."

"Sensible as ever," your father sighed, "My wife is a wise woman." He considered you, chin sunk into his neck. How unhappy he looked to be judging you like that, how haunted and miserable.

You stood, stiff with pride and anger.
>>
>>5515887
If you want to see much worse autism that never ends, take a look at any supreme monke thread.
>>
"Five lashes," he said, "Delivered by mine own hand. He's my son, my own blood, and I will discipline him."

Lady Marisa flinched, as if she had been denied something sought after and suffered rebuke. Perhaps she'd had a mind for Ser Hobb to administer the lashes. He'd have pit his whole body into each one.

"Edric, remove your shirt, we'll get this over with."

You had heard a flogging, a true flogging, had a man strapped to a frame with a bit to bite down on, to choke out his screams. Your father called for nothing like that, and the flog he chose was his own sword belt, the buckle held in his fist. Marisa drew back in sullen anger, watching as your father instructed you to kneel. Your sister watched curiously beside her mother.

You knelt before him. He stood behind you. He put a hand on your shoulder.

"Five," he said, just to you, "And only five. I'm proud of you boy, you stood your ground and kept your word. This is unjust, but so is the world."

And then, if you thought he would make the flogging too gentle, he brought his belt down hard across your back, hard enough spit flew from your lips.

He had never beaten you before, never raised a hand in anger. Now he gave you the strap. By the third blow you had your face clenched shut, your back stinging. You opened an eye, tear-filled from pain.

Alyssa was watching, a strange smile flickering on her lips.

More misery, all from her.

The next blow knocked you to your hands and knees, the last blow found you there, and it was only on the last you let out a whimper. When he was done his father threw his belt away in disgust.

"Take the news to Lord Peake, he's had his justice," he snapped at Ser Hobb, "And if I meet his brother in the tilt, I mean to have him. You tell him that! Lance to lance, I'll have him!" Your father was not an angry man, but now he shook with rage, his face red behind his beard.

You spat a little more, shaking from pain. Tears dripped to the earth, still not wanting to move. Your father took you under the armpit, helped you stand. Then pulled you into a hug.

"Forgive me," he said, so softly you scarcely heard him, "Forgive me Dalia."

It hurt worse, in its way. You don't remember...you couldn't remember clearly the last time your father had held you.

"Am I bleeding?" you asked with a broken voice, your back stinging.

"No lad," he said, then let you go.

You strangled back those painful, ugly emotions threatening to break through, stopped up the tears i your eyes before they could fall. You settled your trembling and straightened your back.

He cupped your face and smiled, but you gave him no smile in return. You gave him a nod instead.

"I need to rest," you said, "May I go, my lord?"

For a moment he looked wounded himself, then nodded. "You may," he said.
>>
And you walked stiffly to your bedroll, stubbornly sat upon itt, then lay on your side as your back throbbed with a vicious heat.

Then you closed your eyes, but you didn't sleep.

Because the pain you were used to, but it was the something else you weren't. The image that played in your mind, that you'd thought on while being flogged.

Of Harry Hill and Catling Storm with weapons in hand standing before you, ready to defend you. Of Joffrey Penrose and Timmet Flowers and Black Roddy shoulder to shoulder.

Of friends. Real friends.

And that was what caused the tears to trail soundless down your face.

You had friends.
>>
(back tomorrow or the day after)
>>
>>5515915
Good updoot QM.
>>
Edric has a hard life, but at least he has someone and something to make it worth living
>>
>>5515915
Cheers my dude it was good one, Father loves us for all his failings, to be honest I'm reminded of how House of the dragon portrayed Viserys targaryen.

Also Alyssa enjoyed that goddamn.
>>
>>5515925
>Cheers my dude it was good one, Father loves us for all his failings, to be honest I'm reminded of how House of the dragon portrayed Viserys targaryen.

I dont think Edric loves him back. He has no reason to. Wouldnt mind if from now on he would stop refering to him as father. Been let down too much and for too long and this was simply the final straw
>>
>>5515929
I got to agree, he is just lord clover from now on.
This may not be just, but so is the world.
>>
>>5515929
Well I'd say the relationship with dad is complicated to say the least, he clearly loves us but he's been neglectful in many respects when it comes to us and I wouldn't be surprised if we struggle or outright do not but thats for us as players to determine I suppose unless munk says otherwise.

>Wouldnt mind if from now on he would stop refering to him as father.
Yeah I can get onboard with this, maybes its damage been done or something else but I don't know if I can see us call him Father often or at all since Marisa is around and we are only becoming more aware of how she sees us.
>>
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>>5515914
Why does every chapter always end with someone beating the shit out of Edric?

Made some AI generations of the characters btw. Clockwards from top left: Edric Flowers, Harry Hill, Linette Flowers, Alyssa Clover.
>>
>>5515914
based friends, clovers&servants are really starting to ask to be given a reckoning in the future.
great update

>>5515934
lord clover, lady clover, lordling clover, ladyling clover ..... sound good. We aren't their family, or only when they want it or think it's useful like Alyssa.

>>5515936
cool bastards. They hate him, and take any. opportunity. Beatings aren't even the worse thing for Edric, it's the words and gestures.
>>
>>5515947
If Alyssa keep starting fights I'd like to start privately calling her whore clover.

might be a bit too mean but the buck has to stop somewhere with her.
>>
>>5515952
One way to get back at her is to try at get one of the fallows to go near her, basically force her to have a conversation out of appeareances, and then leave mid interaction.
An oath to a lord that doesn't uphold their side is a void one.
>>
>>5515952
Dude just leave next time. Or even better tell her that if she pulls shit like that again we are leaving and she will have find someone else to cling on when red hand dude is around promises be damned.
>>
>>5515965
Just tell her that we consider our promise forfilled after all that has happend and then we go and mind our own business
>>
>>5515961
Jesus that might just break the camels back not sure if I'm necessarily on board.

>>5515965
No fun in that though I suppose that would solve things.
>>
>>5515961
Edric is not that petty. If we lash out now it only means more trouble. If we want to do a revenge route there will be plenty of opportunities alter.
>>
>>5515935
The issue I think is that dear old Lord Clover clearly loves the *idea* of Edric, as the stoic son of his dead first love who looks after his family, but he doesn't actually know Edric the *person* who grapples with dealing with a family that doesn't love him and expectations that he can't uphold.

It's telling that when hugging Edric he mentions his mother's name instead, you know?
>>
But also on the topic of vengeance, the best revenge is a life lived well; or in this case glory gained above and beyond a minor house in the Reach descended from gate holders.

If you want to rub it in their faces then gain great glory and renown with the Blackfyre and get big titles from the losing side.
>>
>>5516170
he literally never said edric mom before this, and the worst thing he keeps saying all this things in a quiet way. Like how much you want him to hate you lmao
>>
>>5515968
>>5516169
It's the nuclear option, but it's one that is garanteed to mess with her.
But I would rather just stop being a slave to a family that hates us and go our own way.
>>
>>5516175
>>5516182
This is my plan as well so far. Wait for an opportunity to leave the family, do something worthwhile until the rebellion starts, join Blackfyre, cover Edric in enough blood and glory to win some nice title.
>>
>>5515656
>beg your case, call on Alyssa and Gareth, she'll tell them what happened
>>
>>5516184
Do we lewd the sister before we leave though?
>>
>>5516289
obviously. Leave another bastard in her belly.
>>
>>5515965
Yep. Tell her we won’t protect her if it just leads to us getting strapped. Tell her to get the Tarly boys to protect her
>>
>>5516289
Honestly I couldn't care less about what you anons do with Alyssa as long as it doesn't fuck with Edric joining the rebellion. Like doing something that would send him to the wall or get his hands chopped off.
I am not about to lose a chance of a lifetime over some little cunt's cunt.
>>
>>5516420
Wouldn't it be a better idea to join Daeron given that Daemon will 100% lose as long as Bloodraven is still around.
>>
>>5516460
Join Daemon who is Edric's idol, go to Essos after Red Field. But its in 8-9 years so nothing we need to worry about yet
>>
>>5516460
>Join the targs because Daemon is going to lose
Nothing is set in stone. Daemon only lost because he was too honourable to run down Gwayne Corbray. As Ser Eustace said, if things were different, it might be Daemon on the throne.
>>
You know, we're sorta the Daemon to Gareth's Daeron. The more charismatic martial son to the bookish, nerdy, asshole trueborn.
>>
>>5516170
I don't agree that he loves the idea of Edric being the stoic son but you are right on the money with it being about Edric being an extension of his mother.

>>5516182
This is why having external connections is important it gives us places to be other than constantly being under the thumb of the family.

Its also why I keep saying to fight back in a forceful way against Alyssa.

>>5516289
Honestly depends on how things develop with her, things look promising IMO but there's a lot more to be done.
>>
>>5516289
Gods no. While I know some anons have a hate boner (or are mostly just coomers) for the female members of our family, I think they just don't realise how damning an accusation of incest is. We're no Targaryens and what reputation we have will be tarnished forever.

I'm not vouching for Edric to be a perfect mary sue goody two shoes, but commiting such a sin would only confirm everybody's belief of us as a lecherous Dornish bastard and I believe Edric is too proud to allow them the satisfaction. But I'm not against the confused feelings he's going through while in puberty. It's good characterisation.
>>
>>5516535
I think half the fun is indulging in just how taboo it is for some anons.
>>
as I understand it the punishment for incest is vague but can be anything from exile to castration or execution. the children of incest can also be put to death if discovered as such.
>>
also as to Edric's treatment, he's treated about on par to a man-at-arms of the House but the idea Chestnut is an inferior horse is a misconception. Chestnut is a very fine riding horse and the personal property of Lord Garlan, and worth a good amount of money, but the gelding isn't a trained warhorse/destrier. Being given a riding horse of the House instead of one of the horses of the garrison is a mark of respect.

Chestnut was gelded to prevent breeding with the mare Lord Garlan has been breeding with Bullroarer, Jester's sire. The Clovers have a good destrier to stud with a strong lineage, and breeding fine warhorses (if not wholly exceptional ones) is one of the few distinctions of the House. Lord Garlan has sold more than one warhorse to Lord Tarly and other lords, as well as knights of means.

I wouldn't go so far as to say House Clover is 'known' as a horse breeding family, but husbandry is something Garlan takes seriously.
>>
>>5516563
>I wouldn't go so far as to say House Clover is 'known' as a horse breeding family, but husbandry is something Garlan takes seriously.
So less like House Ryswell who are so renowned their sigil is a horse, and more like Oberyn Martell and Wilas Tyrell, who are both noted hobbyists when it comes to horse breeding?
>>
>>5516569
pretty much yeah
>>
>>5516563
This what I've been trying to get across earlier. For a bastard Edric is materially treated quite well; it's the emotional aspect that is quite unfortunate,

His father is a distant figure he has no relationship with, his stepmother hates his guts and arranged him to be raised by the cruel master at arms who beat the shit out of him all the time. His brother is a shithead and his sister gets perverse satisfaction out of his pain. Combine that with him having basically no friends (because we voted for him to be a training nut) and he's in a rough emotional spot overall.
>>
Morning light found you training with sword in hand. It gave you something to focus on, the leather wrapped grip, the steel weight, the tip slicing the air. Your back still throbbed in pain, but it was a superficial kind of pain. You knew the difference between being hurt and being injured.

Few else were up in the camp, though there were people already busy in the tourney grounds. Smallfolk mostly, preparing for the day's lists, putting together their stalls, their wares, or whatever entertainment they provided. You could hear distantly a man tuning his lute and his voice, practising his vocal range with varying 'me's' and 'my's' while plucking a chord.

Still you'd found a quiet place away from the great tent of House Clover, patterned in the House colours. Away from the servants and soldiers too, close to the muddy bank of the Mander beneath an old oak tree.

A place to be alone.

The certainty of a sword in hand felt good, and you needed to be ready. You didn't think Gormon Peake would be satisfied with your father's mild justice. He'd be looking for you, with his friends.

You'd made friends, but you had made an enemy too, the first not of your own House. He may have had your life yesterday, if it wasn't for Lady Marisa.

The thought you might owe her something...no, you owed her nothing. What she had done was small recompense for her years of cruelty.

The thought of her made your cuts quicker, fiercer, your face a rocky mask of anger.

"You really don't tire of it, do you?"

A voice behind you and you looked back.

Alyssa sat watching, still in her bed gown, a light shawl around her shoulders. Her hair was unbound, she had dark pits under her eyes as if she had little sleep. She had not followed you to the training ground yesterday.

"I only tire of you, Alyssa," you said, turning back to your swordsmanship.

"You're angry with me, but then you're always angry with me," she said, "Because its always my fault. Don't you ever get tired of being angry?"

Your anger was only mounting. You ignored her, focusing that anger into each strike of your blade.

Something wet hit the back of your head. Your fingers dug mud out of your hair.

"Stop ignoring me," Alyssa snapped.

You looked back at her bruised eyed face. There was nothing playful in her expression.
>>
"It's always my fault. I set the boys on you, I make people hurt you, I'm the wicked little sister out to get you, but be honest Edric. You like fighting. You like being the poor abused bastard boy who gets to punch the high born boys in the face. And you like blaming it on me too. Evil wicked Alyssa."

She said it with a hurt she hadn't earned, not by half. It only made your anger darken.

"I never asked Joff to fight you, but you think everything I do is some trap. You always have. Well maybe I don't think about you as much as you think I do, Flowers. Did you ever think of that?"

You ceased your swordplay, cocking your jaw to the side. You turned to her and she sat up, her face as stern as yours. It made her look older, with the tired, bruised eyes.

>say: maybe you don't, maybe you do, just leave me alone
>say: spare me your lies Alyssa, I know what you are
>say: maybe I've misjudged you, maybe, but if so you make it easy
>>
(sorry for the slow/late updates, Christmas-New Year messed up my sleep schedule pretty bad)
>>
>>5516629
>say: maybe I've somewhat misjudged you, maybe, but if so you make it easy
>>
>>5516626
>say: maybe you don't, maybe you do, just leave me alone
>>
>>5516629
>say: maybe I've misjudged you, maybe, but if so you make it easy
Open and honest conversation time?
Literally don't belive it's happening this soon, but we'll see how this goes!
>>
>>5516629
>say: spare me your lies Alyssa, I know what you are
She is lying, we know she thinks about us when we heard the gossip.
>>
>>5516629
>Grab her roughly
>"You don't have too ask them too and you know it''
>*long pause*
>release her
>''maybe I've misjudged you, maybe, but if so you make it easy''
>>
>>5516629
>>5516636
Switching to

>You and I both know that's a lie. Do you not dream of me sister? Do you not know that my anger burns blacker than night?

>>5516645 makes a good point referring to the overheard gossip from way back when.
>>
>>5516629
>>say: and yet every time I suffer, you smile; like this is all some sort of sport. Mayhaps I've misjudged you,but it hurts to think mine own sister can only wish me ill.
>>
>>5516629
>>say: and yet every time I suffer, you smile; like this is all some sort of sport. Mayhaps I've misjudged you, but it hurts to think mine own sister can only wish me ill, in spite of my promise.
>>5516656
Easy there Darkstar.
>>
>>5516629
>>5516644
Changing to >>5516658
I like how this is worded.
Gets the point across and puts in the question of her own behavior.
>>
>>5516657
This is actually a good compromise between calling out her lies out and wanting her to explain herself.
>>
Yeah I'll support adding the dream and how she gets off on us in pain but not the anger to my vote here >>5516650 I'd rather the anger be on display with her.

Also its edgy instead of just emotionally charged with friction.
>>
>>5516629
>say: maybe you don't, maybe you do, just leave me alone
>>
>say: maybe I've misjudged you, maybe, but if so you make it easy

I rather go with this, more disarming but it gives an explanation.
>>
>>5516629
>say: maybe I've misjudged you, maybe, but if so you make it easy
>>
>>5516629

I like this write in.
>>5516657
>say: and yet every time I suffer, you smile; like this is all some sort of sport. Mayhaps I've misjudged you,but it hurts to think mine own sister can only wish me ill.
>>
>>5516629
Supporting the below
>>5516657
>>
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>>5516629
Write-in:
>I would believe you if I hadn't seen your face when I'm beaten or punished Alyssa, you derive some sort of sick, twisted pleasure from seeing me hurt. I don't know what your game is, but one day you'll take it too far and someone will get seriously hurt.

Seriously though, I went through the quest and these are all the times Alyssa is being smug at us getting beaten or humiliated:
>>5494079
>Above you your father frowned, beside him your sister Alyssa smirked, a bright gleam in her pale grey eyes.

>>5494106
>She practically sat on you, holding you down, your body so weak you were all but helpless against her. She smirked. It was rare for her to have the advantage on you like this.

>>5494108
>Normally she would sick one of the boys who fawned over her to try to beat you up, the sons of her father's knights or the boys who worked the bakery. She'd watch the fights with the same satisfied, excited smirk as she did right now.

>>5496430
>Alyssa's smirk, a match for her mother's, was black with malice.

>>5499875
>How many times had she egged some mason's son or baker's boy into picking a fight with you, and watched the brawls in glee, spying from safe vantage, delighting whether you won or lost? How many times had she found you recovering and taken delight in pressing on your bruises just to make them sting?

>>5504161
>But his offer widened Alyssa's eyes in a way you misliked, her smirk growing as she took another sip.
>"Hmm, mayhap..." she said suggestively, glancing at you
>She settled back against the stall, swirling her drink, a terrible excitement entering her eyes as the two boys began to crowd you.

>>5504309
>Caught sight of Alyssa watching, biting her own lip as she dropped her wine cup, scampered up to a safe perch to watch, eyes wide and glittering.


>>5513391
>Actually I think I'd rather enjoy it," she said, "It'll be worth it to see you lose!"

>>5515912
>You opened an eye, tear-filled from pain.
>Alyssa was watching, a strange smile flickering on her lips.
>More misery, all from her.

There's no misunderstanding or innocent explanation, she's a sadist who enjoys tormenting us. And it sounds like it has been going on for a long time, even before you could infer any possible sexual element from it.
>>
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>>5516716
Fucking Christ
>>
>>5516716
And this is why I want to make it mutual, she hurts us, we hurt her it turns into a circle of unhealthy behavior that gets us both going and from there things mount into a relationship.
>>
>>5516658
>>5516657
>>5516659
>>5516692
>>5516708

I believe this write-in is the winner

so, let's have it out between Edric and Alyssa
>>
You sheathed your sword and stepped closer to her, your voice cracked and raw as you spoke.

"And yet every time I suffer you smile, like this is all some sort of sport. Mayhaps I've misjudged you, but it hurts to think mine own sister can only wish me ill."

"Every time I've been struck, you've been there watching. Delighting in it. Everytime! I'm growing sick of it. I'm sick of being your plaything. You ask me promises of protection then start another fight to hurt me."

She flinched.

"Do you deny it?" you said, you demanded, your cracking voice rising almost to a pubescent shout.

"I don't know what you mean," she said, now no longer keeping her eyes on yours, "Am I not there after, to make sure you're unhurt? You think I'm some...some wicked thing with no care in my heart?"

"You're only there to hurt me more," you didn't like the sound you made, a near whine of a thirteen year old boy, or the hot pricking at your eyes, or the hot ugly rush running through you. "Admit it for once, stop playing innocent. Just tell me, why. What sick pleasure do you get from my torment?"

She took a step back and now had large, even fearful eyes. "H-how dare you," she said, "What are you-"

It was growing too much, this hot angry heat inside you. You grabbed her arm, hard. Squeezed so hard you thought her delicate bones might break.

"What evil have I ever done to deserve it?" you said.

And then her bruised eyes crinkled in a snarl. She tugged her arm back, fruitless from your tight grip.

"Unhand me, bastard!" she said, "I'll tell you nothing, I just need to scream. See what father does then. I mean it, I'll scream!"

She drew in a breath as if she just might let out a high pitched shriek. And if she did, and the wrong people heard, it would not go easy for you.

>grab her mouth to stiffle her screams
>let her go and hope she did nothing
>keep going as you were, she was bluffing
>>
>>5516742
>let her go, tell her to fuck off.
Physically hurting her won't change her. Edric saw her flinch when he spoke the truth. She knows she's in the wrong. Just need to drive that home.
>>
>>5516742
>>5516742
>let her go and hope she did nothing
Release her and soften, “We’re not at home anymore Alyssa, with you watching me struggle in the yard with the baker’s son and butcher’s boy. The Peake’s wanted me killed!”
>>
>>5516742
>What sick pleasure do you get from my torment?"
>She took a step back and now had large, even fearful eyes. "H-how dare you," she said, "What are you-"
So it is about some fetish? She gets flustered when we mention her getting pleasure out of it. How to proceed?
>>
>>5516742
>Quick glance to see if anyones watching
>Pull her close
>kissu if no ones watching
>''I nearly lost a hand because of Peake this isn't a game anymore''
>>
>>5516754
take her off balance IMO and yes its probably because she dreams of us or something.
>>
>>5516742
>"What evil have I ever done to deserve it?" you said.
>And then her bruised eyes crinkled in a snarl. She tugged her arm back, fruitless from your tight grip.
The dreams might have something to do with it, she saw us in one before, but it was very weird.

>>5516751
Support and to this: "is it about your dreams? Do I hurt you in your dreams so you hurt me in revenge?"
>>
>>5516751
+1
>>
>>5516751
>Support
>>
>She drew in a breath as if she just might let out a high pitched shriek. And if she did, and the wrong people heard, it would not go easy for you.
Im begining to think this last part is a dare by her to incite us to something.
>>
>>5516767
I think a scared little girl is about to scream. Why risk it in any case.
>>
>>5516770
I think fear is only slightly the case, we clearly hit on something and backing away I fear will only lock it away and we're back to zero again.

>Why risk it in any case.
because I think we'll get somewhere.
>>
>>5516742
Supporting >>5516751

With the bit below if it gets support, but I'm not married to it.
>"I promised to keep you safe. I gave you my word, so I will. But the absolute least you could do is give my yours that what you say is the truth."
>>
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Well the obvious and correct answer to this is that a bit of good ol' raping will loosen her tongue, but of course anons won't go for that.
>>
>>5516777
t. Peake

I that would certainly incur what people are trying to avoid, hell trying to evoke more than a resistant emotion in her seems to be something people want to avoid.
>>
>>5516742
>let her go and hope she did nothing
>where your games end? With rope around my neck?!
>It doesn't matter anyway after the tourney I plan on leaving the house.
>>
>>5516742
>Write-In
>"Do it then. Make your dreams come true!"
>>
>>5516782
Fuck the peakes, almost bad as the hightowers or Codds
>>
>>5516812
Justdoit.gif
>>
>>5516751
we have a winner

let's see if it goes Edric's way
>>
>>5516838
Amen
>>
You eased your grip, and softened your voice.

“We’re not at home anymore Alyssa, with you watching me struggle in the yard with the baker’s son and butcher’s boy. The Peake’s wanted me killed!” your voice cracked despite your softened tone. What words could you use so that she'd understand.

She stared at you, still breathing fast, eyes wide and glittering.

"Alyssa," you said, letting go of her arm, "You understand that, don't you?"

And then she let loose a high pitched scream.

"Seven hells!" you clapped your hands over your ears it was so piercing.

A shout went up from your father's camp, back up the trail you'd come down.

She stopped her scream to stare at you, wide and pale. Frightened and oddly frightening.

"Gods damn you," you spat, the shouting growing louder. You pointed at her. "Y-you can burn in hell for all I care!"

"With you right after, bastard," she said, and spat at you.

Her spit hit your chin, and anger went beyond rage. Your hand snapped out, found her throat. You squeezed.

Snarling at her, snarling down the sight of your arm, spit flecked the corner of your mouth as tears stung your eyes. You felt her throat bob under your grip, the delicate bones beneath the soft skin. You could strangle her. Strangle the life out of her. You could break her neck. Your grip tightened. Her stare didn't break from yours, her pale staring face with her large bruised eyes. A gasp from her lips became a soft choking sound as her pale cheeks began to strain red.

You could feel the blood rush through the veins of her neck, see the web of her veins begin to throb and strain against your grip.

You'd felt like this before. You'd felt like this standing down the Peake men. Everything immediate. Everything alive and present.

You could kill her. You could fucking kill her.

She didn't fight or scream but stared making soft choking sounds, her chest heaving. Then she grasped your wrist with both of hers, and her eyes snapped shut, and she made a soft whimper that made her seem the most delicate and innocent creature of the earth as she struggled to breathe. And you felt something dark and confusing happen inside of you, an awful hot thrill that clenched your groin as much as your teeth clenched in rage and had you pull that evil girl closer, watching the flutter of her nostrils as she struggled to fill her lungs.
>>
Her fingers useless against your grip. Her eyes opened to narrow slits. Looking up your arm.

The shouting, someone kicking through the bushes.

Fear overcame your rage and the dreadful pleasure. You released her and heard a deep straining gasp as you spun away to run. Your thoughts, your feelings, scrambled.

Run. Run along the riverbank. Away in the early morning. You had to run. Away. The bitch. Unnatural. Evil. You. Her. Wrong. The bitch, the bitch wanted you dead. Her throat. Her straining face. The swell of her chest beneath the thin fabric of her sleeping gown. Gods. Her lips parting to gasp. Gods!

Bile rose in your throat. You slipped on the muddy bank to spit it up. Not sure how long you'd run or how far or if anyone was behind you. You followed the vomit with a sob, grabbed at your chest to splatter muddy hand prints on it.

What kind of monstrous creature were you? You grabbed yourself where you were still hard, needing it to go away.

A Dornish bastard boy. A vicious lustful little beast waiting to betray everyone. Waiting for the blood to show.

"Gods," you choked, not seeing through a blur of tears.

"Gods?" a voice before you.

You shook your head to see.

Harry Hill frowned down at you. He was barefoot with his hose rolled up above his knees, feet spattered with mud. He carried a fishing rod and river trout.

"The hell sort of gods are you praying to down here?" he said, "What the hell happened to you?"

You heard shouting behind you, Ser Hobb's sadistic voice ringing out, the words still indistinct.

>ask Harry for help and a place for shelter
>say nothing, wait for your House to find you
>say nothing, keep running
>>
(Back tomorrow!)
>>
>>5516868
>ask Harry for help and a place for shelter

Lets wait for everything to calm down
>>
>>5516867
Yeah I called it she wanted us to go deeper down that rabbit hole well shits real now.

The only way she really knows to push us like that is violence or tormenting us, she's about misanthropic as we are.
>>
Option 1 Ask Harry for aid gives a chance for cooler heads to prevail could likely head with us being kicked out of home

Option 2 probably the thrashing of a lifetime maybe even an actual lifetime

Option 3 probably above with more guilty
>>
>>5516868
>say nothing, wait for your House to find you
We’re just screwed here. :s
Running away just makes things worse as well
>>
>>5516868
>ask Harry for help and a place for shelter

jesus christ what did i just read
>>
>>5516868
>>ask Harry for help and a place for shelter
WEWLAD
That girl is trouble bros. I can't say why I feel that way, only that I do.
>>
>>5516908
What is asking Harry going to do? He can’t stop Hobb or psycho mum’s rage, we’re just cooked now
>>
>>5516927
hide us intill everything has calmed down
>>
>>5516927
Hide us through the bastard underground presumably, pros of being not quite nobility is people tend to give less of a shit about what you do provided you aren't actively causing trouble.

>>5516926
No shit, it would be fun if it wasn't going to be bonebreaking dangerous for us.

At least we know for future what it means when she gets defensive like that.
>>
>>5516868
I feel sorry for Gareth seems like only normal kid in this house of fuck ups.
>>
>>5516928
Calm dow or escalate to the point where we will have to run.
>>
>>5516932
The twins seem fine for now
>>
>>5516935
Yeah twins too. Shame we didn't had opportunity to thank Gareth.
>>
>>5516932
Probably a midl6 positive case of middle child syndrome despite being the heir.
>>
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>Gareth watching his two sibling interact but every time his half-brother fights sexual tension between them grows.
>>
>>5516868
>explain the situation to Harry
>walk back our family’s encampment

Well lads, we are truly fucked

No way Harry’s master hides us (a random bastard) and there is no way a young boy on foot escapes from the centre of Highgarden at tourney time

Each option just prolongs the inevitable - we’ll face fewer consequences if we head back immediately

Maybe our bitch of a sister (who is now utterly dead to us) lied and said she saw a bandit…
>>
>>5516949
I will support this. Rip of the bandage.
>>
Think people are reading a bit too much into the running away and hiding, We will just make ourselves scarces for the day before returning back
>>
>>5516949
Supporting this
As much as I hate to stick with the family I agree.
If Alyssa told the guards we assaulted her then asking for refuge will create big problems for Harry.
If Alyssa told nothing or lied then Edric hiding like this will be seen as strange and raise a lot of questions.
Let's get this over with once and for all. Come what may.
>>
>>5516949
Its less his lord/lady and more the bastard gang and their network since obviously no one in a official capacity would protect us.
>>
>>5516957
We’re still an extra mouth to feed and the smallfolk employed by Harry’s lord will talk about us

As this anon said >>5516956 if Alyssa told the truth to our family, we’re endangering our new friends (again)

If she lied, we ran away and hid for no reason and will raise more questions…
>>
>>5516963
Yeah they'll talk but I don't think it will be on the radar of anyone besides our family, I won't say that certain though.

And like I said before the bastard gang largely benefit of being below the radar of concern for their houses, a few missing loafs of bread or a cup of wine particularly at a event like this won't be seen as amiss.

As for her lying should we rely on that and suffer the full wrath of our family if she doesn't and suffer probably more than just a thrashing?
>>
>>5516967
>And like I said before the bastard gang largely benefit of being below the radar of concern for their houses, a few missing loafs of bread or a cup of wine particularly at a event like this won't be seen as amiss.
And then what? What are we going to do after the tournament ends?
>As for her lying should we rely on that and suffer the full wrath of our family if she doesn't and suffer probably more than just a thrashing?
We shouldn't rely on that we should go and find out what the situation is instead of building plans based on nothing but assumptions.
>>
>>5516971
Well I won't say I've got a plan but we have a few options either after the tourney or after
>go home and hope cooler heads prevail
>gtfo and be permaexiled either actually or in our own head
>try and do something during the melee or tourney to alleviate the situation

Hiding out would allow us to at least get second hand information on what the hell is being said in camp instead of incurring the immediate wrath of at least Marissa and Hobb.

Now that I think about it trying to be a Mystery knight might help sooth things.
>>
Guys, we are just gonna be gone for some hours or the day. This isnt a grand escape. We are just gonna stray out of sight intill everything has calmed down before returning
>>
>>5516973
>Now that I think about it trying to be a Mystery knight might help sooth things.
In what universe would that soothe things over? In what way? "Oh Edric you strangled your sister but since you are good at knocking men from their horses we all forgive you".
Besides we are not participating in the tournament itself but in the squire's melee. How do you intend to participate withour revealing Edric's face? I highly doubt they allow every mystery brat to enter.
>>5516976
Please explain to me what do you mean when you say "untill everything has calmed down".
If the narrative is that we assaulted our sister then things are not going to calm down even if you wait for a year.
If Alyssa lied and said nothing of Edric then there is nothing to calm down.
>>
>>5516980
Because we didnt try to strangle our dear sister to death, we merely had a small fight between siblings.

Thats our story and we stick to it
>>
>>5516986
The word of a bastard against the word of a true-born daughter.
Wanna guess which one will be taken as the the truth?
>>
>>5516986
My brother in old gods, her throat will have marks.
>>
>>5516868
>explain the situation to Harry
>walk back our family’s encampment
That's it, all clovers get to die. Constant punishments, humiliations, beatings the list never ends. Them and their servants have the days counted from now on. The tournament participation is gone, our friends can't do anything, we will be delivered a ton of lashes and there is no reason to do anything with this wicked people. They will never allow for Edric to live like a normal kid after this (not that they allowed much), and since Alyssa is a petty bitch you can count on it that she will talk. Or use it to threaten Edric for constantly humiliate him, wound him severely or attempt to kill it.
It's also easy to make the connection Edric run away, Alyssa hurt for everyone. So is more likely we get both a punishment/humiliation now and even more in the future. But if we can find a way to get out of Rose Hall legally it would be great. Shield Islands ? Anything just a ticket to get off.
>>
>>5516980
I was mostly spitballing a vague idea in that either by winning some marshal glory or crowning Alyssa the Queen of love or something as recompense or to throw the accusation for a loop.

I dunno not really hard thinking about it though it occurs to me either the battle for the maidens kiss could be a back-door to patching things up with Alyssa or something.

>>5516986
She'll have marks even if we're a thirteen year old, that's pretty damning if people are accusing us of trying to kill her.
>>
>>5516986
There is proof of what we did on arms and throat. Add the scream and crying. Nobody would believe Edric even if there was no signs, beside his friends. This is the last written thing before the decisions, for give you an idea of how much they care of Edric.
>You heard shouting behind you, Ser Hobb's sadistic voice ringing out, the words still indistinct.
>>
>>5516868
> ask Harry for help and a place for shelter
This is the only option. Time to break away from our abusive family.
>>
I’d like to point out that none of us voted to assault our half-sister.
>>
>>5516949
+1

>>5517030
Yeah, I'm accepting the scream as a reasonable risk of our choice, but that throat grabbing came out of left field. Wasn't the majority of the vote literally 'unhand her'? Then we go and put our hands where they can leave marks?
>>
>>5517030
>>5517041
My interpretation is that if we let her go she would run but most writeins wanted to keep talking with her so we kept hold of her.
>>
>>5517030
True.
But Edric is a kid with no emotional support and enemies on all sides, and recent friends. After what happened yesterday, and what Alyssa was saying sooner or later he would react violently and in anger.
If you notice during this conversation Edric keeps becoming angry and angry. Is gradual, and honestly visible to us. I am bit surprised nobody noticed.
A solution would have probably to just leave angry, running away, and cut the chit chat at a certain point.
I prefer how it did go though, Edric hate towards the Clovers will only grow now.
>>
>>5516868
>explain the situation to Harry
>walk back our family’s encampment
Wow, well I can't say I'm mad given how they're both emotionally and socially stunted hormonal teens but still pretty depressing. Family's messed up.
That said Gareth isn't too bad and I'm of a mind to be there for the twins (if we're not dead or gone), gods know they'll need it.
>>
>>5517030
I did but I was heavily outnumbered prehaps it was a case of no one said to explicitly not do it? or that there is precedent in her and Edric's behavior for this to be a consequence of actions.

>>5517041
We did lessen our grip, I'm not sure if that counts but I just want to point out that
she specifically screamed AFTER we finished talking and I for one can't help but feel itd a consequence of doing not what she wanted whatever it might have been and I am more and more convinced letting her go wasn't what she wanted

like I am entirely unsurprised these two maladjusted teenagers escalated a situation where they don't know how to interact properly or healthly, one kid probably gets off on sexual sadism largely projected on a lifelong victim while the other has a lot of repressed anger about it and thats not even bringing up the growing Incest angle or that Edric has had thoughts about actuallising on his surpressed anger, her explicitly and knowingly exacerbating the situation drove him over the edge unsurprisingly.
>>
>>5516868
>Tell Hill about the fight, wait for your House to find you
No need to give him details. But running isn't going to help but talking to someone before Edric is collected might.
>>
>>5517030
This is the prologue where everything goes wrong so latter edge is justified, multiplied by being GoT where everything must always suck.
QM was writing about Edric's rising anger, but I'm sure that whatever vote won, he would lash out in some way and then be punished somehow.
>>
>>5516868
>ask Harry for help and a place for shelter
>Or a place to run away.
>>
>>5516868
>say nothing, wait for your House to find you
>>
>say nothing, keep running
>>
>>5517125
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XuByMZzLxpM
>>
>>5517030
Yeah that's kinda silly. I think if we'd get to vote in that moment strangling her was unlikely to win.

>>5516868
>>5516949
+1
Let's face whatever shit they throw at us so we can finally be rid of this poisonous connection.

>>5517006
>Shield Islands
This or Essos sounds great right about now.
>>
Changing vote here >>5517182 to

>Support >>5517075
>>
Come the fuck on. This feels railroad-y as hell.
>>
>>5517268
Which part of this chain of events you disagree with?
>>
why do I have the darndest feeling that this behavior will continue to be a trend for alyssa until she dies an ironic death as foretold by her visions?
>>
>>5517325
Probably the choking Alyssa part, It's an incredibly drastic action by the main character that was chosen entirely by the QM
>>
>>5516868
>ask Harry for help and a place for shelter
we'll be ded if we get caught
>>
>>5516868
>>explain the situation to Harry
>>walk back our family’s encampment
It's joever.
>>
>>5517380
Well maybe our next character will know not to strangle his sister while there are armed men converging on his location
>>
>>5517402
Maybe our next QM will know not to write such an extreme action without player input.
>>
>>5516868
Changing
>>5516900
To
>>5516949

I think the situation regarding the choking is reflective of the Edric’s internal feelings (anger and rage against his family) and discussions being had by anons so far. Some anons want to keep Edric placid in the face of constant injustice while the other half want to see the Clovers burn.
>>
>>5516949
+1
>>
>>5517587
I feel like placid might be the wrong word here, but there are definitely a lot of anons that want Edric to rip and tear unfortunately.

I was hoping he would gain revenge by gaining power away from his house and those that shit on him with true friends and allies, but I guess he got a murderboner somewhere?

Kinda meh about the whole situation, but hopefully the QM will find a way to make it work in a satisfying manner.
>>
>>5517630
Placid is the wrong word, agree. Probs stoic is better, agree with your other points as well.
>>
>>5517630
I've voted for Edric to return to his family now in order to ultimately get away from them.
Whatever punishment befalls him be it exile, imprisonment or torture will put some finality into his relationship with the family.
I am bored of these "maybe/maybe not" games. "Oh our family sucks but our father totally loves us secretly we should be lenient with him. Oh our sister is such a bitch but she is just a confused child we shoud pe patient with her. She also totally cares about Edric.".
It's time for something concrete. Let's see who is who. Once their true faces are revealed it will hopefully stop all this nonsense about "b-b-buh some of them are not so bad!!!" and allow us to move on.
>>
>>5516949
+1
>>
>>5517648
>It's time for something concrete. Let's see who is who. Once their true faces are revealed it will hopefully stop all this nonsense about "b-b-buh some of them are not so bad!!!" and allow us to move on.
I don't get you anon, its pretty obvious what most of the family have going on in regards to Edric its just multifaceted and unhealthy.

Dad
> loves Edric as an extension of his dead mother
>has moved temporally moved on from her if not mentally
>as a matter of family politics had to largely neglect Edric so as to not fight all the time

Marissa
>Basically just a stilted stepmum who is sore about how our mother has never been entirely forgotten and we are a source of not just that but shame and dishonour to her.
>She clearly has a sense of reach honour which aggravates the above but also means we aren't just a thing she can break without cause and if any other house picks on us she has to defend us as a matter of honour.

Alyssa
>Hot mess of puberty, dysfunction and attraction, she clearly wants something else other than anger or frustration out of him but doesn't know or understand how too get it so she doubles down on it when things get uncomfortable.
>>
>>5517985
yep it's pretty shitty situation for little old Nedric here. Best to leave it all behind and go on a brave adventure: FIND DAEMON
>>
>>5518000
this is my hope hopefully we get away from these assholes
>>
>>5518000
>>5518001
I've said it before but I enjoy the shitty broken home stuff though leaving I can respect as a choice since I can see Edric wanting to be away from it.

There is no hope for Alyssa is there?
>>
>>5516869
Deebly goncerned that QM hasn't counted votes yet or responded after this message. Hope he didn't get scared off after babby's first criticism. Cheer up Munkun, even Forgotten has had stumbles.
>>
>>5518013
I reckon it's just more healthy for Edric to have some time away from all of the drama. With a driving goal and some loyal friends he could grow a lot, but right now all his 'family' does is hurt him and hold him back.
>>
>>5517985
Ah you are one of the family apologists I see
All the better
>>
>>5518056
>>5517985
I love our beautiful dysfunctional family and I hope that even if we end up leaving/being banished they will return as characters sometime later in the quest.
>>
>>5518013
the family is fun to read but I can only take so much of edric being bitched out y'know
>>
>>5518024
yeah its certainly healthier from a objective standpoint if he left.

>but right now all his 'family' does is hurt him and hold him back.
Yeah even the ''''good'''' stuff like Marissa defending us and Dad softening the flogging or letting us participate in the melee is vastly outweighed by every shitty thing they've done.

>>5518056
lmao where did I apologise for their shit? Dad, Marissa and Alyssa all have incredibly unhealthy relationships with Edric and I don't deny that in the slightest.

>>5518062
I get that, I feel their was a chance to change things with Alyssa right here but it was missed by us.
>>
>>5518013
>I've said it before but I enjoy the shitty broken home stuff
same

>spoiler
We'll just have to wait and see.
>>
>>5518071
>There is no hope for Alyssa is there?
>Why am I being called family apologist?
Really makes you think.
Well if you hate it I can call you something else. Like say "pussywhipped knight"?
>>
>>5518081
lmao weak/10
>>
>>5518084
Not as weak as your spine. In that aspect you are on par with Edric's father.
>>
>>5518087
oh nice burn here's a (you)
>>
>>5518084
>>5518087

My fellow anons, let us not stoop to name calling each other and instead accept that though you have a difference in opinion we can still be united by one thing; Our hate for asshole family members.
>>
>>5516949
this looks like a winner

coincidental to the criticisms in the thread, truth is the day got away from me

I'll write up the update and be back tomorrow
>>
You wiped at your face.

"I've mucked it up, Harry," you said, "I had a fight with my sister, and I...I..."

It was too awful to put to words.

"On your feet there, Edric," he said, putting down his finishing rod to help you up, "Anything you want to talk about over a bit of breakfast?" He dangled the river trout, scales catching a rainbow cast in the sun.

"I grabbed her by the throat. She threatened to scream, to get me in trouble, but I never thought she'd go that far. I grabbed her by the throat and I..."

"You kill her?" he asked. You shook your head. "Just a squabble between siblings then. Nothing a meal won't fix."

"You don't understand," you said, scrubbing at your face. What could you say to make him understand? Not just Alyssa but you, how vile you were. How vile she was. How vile and blasphemous this morning had become. You tried to explain what waited for you back there, with her and her mother. How they hated you and longed for a reason, any reason, to do you ill.

"That sister of yours sure is something," Harry said. He made a fist. "She deserves a good hard...kiss on the mouth." What? He gave you a grin, a twinkle in his eye as he shook his fist as if ready to throw a punch. "That's right, just a good hard one on the lips. Might keep that tongue of hers from dripping poison, for a second at least."

"You want to kiss my sister?" you said, your wits too frayed to understand his joke.

"Me? Gods no. Venomous little witch like that. No, I hunt fairer game than that my friend. Too young for me anyway. Tim could sort her out though, or Roddy. Anyway, enough about that little she-snake. Do you want breakfast or not?"

Again he offered his freshly caught fish.

"No, Harry, I should...I should get back and face what's waiting me," you said, the gloom setting in. Talking to Harry had settled your nerves, but hadn't changed your fate, your mind turning over the dark possibilities as you trudged back the way you'd come. You would get more than five lashes from this, whatever Alyssa said. The truth alone would do it, add whatever further lies she'd told.

"Chin up Edric," Harry called after you, "I'll see you at training later!"

You weren't certain you would see Harry ever again, not if Alyssa had told the worst lies she could. You went back down the muddy bank of the Mander, steeling yourself. Whatever awaited you, you wouldn't run from it. you wouldn't hide. But your hands still shook, and an ugly worm of fear wriggled up your spine.

In your flight you'd broken through a stand of reeds, mind reeling you'd not even realized it. It had torn your tunic on the sleeve, with the mud splattered across your legs and lap, your hands caked black, you looked a sight.

You stepped through to Ser Hobb's ugly shouting, a stick in hand as he struck at the bushes.

"Did you see the fucking snake before you ran like a girl?" Ser Hobb spat at you.

Snake?
>>
"A snake, Sand, a snake. Slithery little bastard looks like your kin, forked tongue and all," he said, slashing at the bushes, "Lord Clover's daughter screamed murder at the sight of one, now her ladyship's commanded it be found and killed."

"Alyssa commanded?" you said, not really understanding.

"Alyssa? Marisa, you dense cunt. Lady Marisa, she doesn't want any snakes slithering around the camp, so now I'm down here beating these bushes hoping to scare the fucking thing away. Get gone you slithery bastard!" And he resumed his attack on the bushes.

Alyssa had told them it was a snake made her scream? You thought you understood, though her bruises...

You walked back up the trail to the camp. Your father massaged Alyssa's shoulder, a cup of small wine in her hand. She'd wrapped her thin shawl carefully around her neck, and spoke to your father with a tired energy. When they saw you your father let out a sigh of relief.

"Edric, did you see the snake?" he asked, "Are you bitten? Alyssa described a Dornish viper. Deadly things. Strange to be so far from the Red Mountains, but not impossible."

"I'm well, my lord," you said, and frowned at Alyssa who grinned behind the rim of her cup. As tired as she was, looking as if she'd gone days without sleep, there was a bright light in her eyes. And your attention stayed unnaturally long on her bottom lip pressed to the rim of her cup.

"Well? You look a bad state for well," he said, and thumbed the tear in your tunic sleeve, "How'd you get this dirty?"

>say: I was fishing with Harry Hill, I slipped on the mud
>say: I ran from the 'snake' and fell over, but I'm fine
>say: There was no snake, father. Alyssa and I had a fight.
>>
>>5518240
>say: I was fishing with Harry Hill, I slipped on the mud

Not entirely a lie
>>
>>5518240
Holy shit they bought it was a fucking snake
>say: I was fishing with Harry Hill, I slipped on the mud
>>
>>5518240
>"I'm well, my lord," you said, and frowned at Alyssa who grinned behind the rim of her cup
Munkun, you son of a bitch. Here I thought we were going to lose a hand or the cock
>>
>>5518240
What a twist...
>say: I was fishing with Harry Hill, I slipped on the mud
>>
>>5518240
>>say: I was fishing with Harry Hill, I slipped on the mud
>>5518258
Punchable
>>
>>5518240
>say: I was fishing with Harry Hill, I slipped on the mud
She's a piece of work
>>
>>5518240
>>say: I was fishing with Harry Hill, I slipped on the mud
>>
>>5518240
>say: I was fishing with Harry Hill, I slipped on the mud

Holy fuck, yeah our sister is a piece of work
>>
>>5518239
>Did you see the fucking snake before you ran like a girl?" Ser Hobb spat at you.

I'm not sure if this is just Hobb making assumptions or something we should realise and tailor our story too.
>>
>>5518290
Regardless, it would just be chalked up to Edric trying to save face.
>>
>>5518240
>say: I was fishing with Harry Hill, I slipped on the mud
>>
>>5518295
Yeah probably also on a reread I'm more certain its Hobb making an assumption though if its bought up we could just "admit" we had a bratty fight or something.
>>
>>5518240
>say: I was fishing with Harry Hill, I slipped on the mud
>>
>>5518240
>say: I was fishing with Harry Hill, I slipped on the mud
>>
Ayo wtf. She has to be doing this shit purely to get a reaction out of Edric at this point. She *likes* him being this angry bastard spitting fire; and she thinks he likes being the upstart fighting those above his station. It’s why she keeps giving it to him; she thinks it’s almost like a favor she’s giving him.

There’s something wrong with that girl, like some Targ level fuckery.
>>
>>5518240
>say: I ran from the 'snake' and fell over, but I'm fine
>>5518344
She's definitely doing it on purpose, she did say she thinks Edric likes fighting, and when confronted about the smiling she initially got flustered, not angry.
>>
>>5518310
>>5518353
Forgot to say I'm changing my vote.
>>
Lets not forget that Edric like it when he choked Alyssa. So you know...
>>
>>5518376
I guess they're both fucked up
>>
>>5518376
And I liked to climb abandoned buildings when I was his age but then I dropped it when I grew up.
>>
>>5518344
>>5518353
This all started because she apparently felt hurt about the possibility of being considered wicked and evil only to scream bloody murder at the peak of the argument and then get chocked half to death and was okay with it enough to lie to her family about it and conceal the evidence.

Yeah this girl is major league messed up, though I think on some level at least she wants affection.

>>5518376
>Iamsofuckedup.jpg
>>
>>5518376
That's true, I guess the entire family is insane.
Except the twins and maybe Gareth. He is spoiled, a nerd and socially awkward, but I don't remember him being malicious. If he was a second son he would make for a good Maester.
>>
>>5518389
Technically he is the second son, but yeah if Edric had just been trueborn Gareth could happily focus on his reading and whatever other nerd shit he likes. Edric is almost the perfect heir for a Reach Lord as well as a Stormlander. Bet it is fustrating for Lady Marisa that the perfect heir isnt actually hers but some Dornish whores bastard son
>>
>>5518240
>>say: I was fishing with Harry Hill, I slipped on the mud
....crazy bitch

>>5518376
Not a lot of competition at Rose Hall, he also wants to kill her
>>
Gentlemen, gentlemen.

You just don't get it, do you?
This is all part of the plan.
She *wanted* to be choked.
>>
>>5518434
Everyone gets it anon.
It's just that not everyone wanted to give her what she wanted.
>>
>>5518434
INSHALLAH THIS GIRL DESERVES NOTHING FROM EDRIC
>>
>>5518602
Nothing beside a good, hard dicking
>>
>>5518240
>say: There was no snake, father. Alyssa and I had a fight.
The power move.
>>
>>5518240
> say: I ran from the 'snake' and fell over, but I'm fine

Most believable since Hobbs thinks it anyway.

Also I agree that the choice to choke our sister should have been a vote, or a will roll or something. I understand this is narrative but in the Reynolds quest everyone lost their minds when Merv punched his Lord without any player input.

I’m glad that narratively there isn’t a lasting consequence (except that we all know the real snake we ran from is Alyssa).

Great quest so far!
>>
>>5518689
I would have made it a Dice check desu since it was Alyssa provoking Edric.
>>
'I was fishing with Harry' wins
>>
"I was fishing with Harry Hill and slipped in the mud," you said, "We caught a trout."

"The Westerling boy?" your father said, "Well, clean up before breakfast. I'm off to meet with Lord Fallow later, and I need you to keep an eye on your sister. You can't go running off to play at any odd hour Edric, you have responsibilities."

That was the last thing you wanted to do right now, though you couldn't confess your shame to father. Alyssa for her part said nothing.

You went and changed, washing off the mud in a basin, fetching a fresh tunic and hose. You felt hollowed out, drained by your outburst, your fear, and the anticlimax of its aftermath. You checked your reflection in the mirror. A few dark whiskers troubled your upper lip. You took them off with the edge of your knife.

"Seven save me," you said to the figurine of the Warrior your kept in your pack. The oath of the Warrior called on men to defend women, not attack them. That all women and girls were reflections of the Maiden and the Mother, and to be respected. But the Maiden and Mother of your life brought out of you nothing but the vilest emotions unbecoming of a Warrior's son. You put the figurine away, closed your eyes. And tried not to think of Alyssa's neck in your hands, your fingers sinking into her soft skin, the sound of her gasping for air, or the terrible dark pleasure it had given you.

Outside Alyssa was at breakfast with Gareth and Ser Lincoln. You took a seat at the far end of the table. Alyssa got up and brought you a bowl of pottage. She didn't speak but sat across from you, humming. Her shawl poorly hid the raw bruises on her neck.

She kept her tired eyes on her own breakfast. The deep pits made her little smirk smokey and mysterious. You swallowed your pottage. Either it was bland or your own nerves robbed it of taste.

She'd had your life in her hands and handed it back to you. What game was she playing? Why had she even come to find you this morning anyway?

"Do you believe in magic, uncle?" Gareth asked Ser Lincoln.

"Magic? Maybe, if it ever exised it died when our ancestors drove out the children of the forest," Lincoln said, "We Redlarks are Blood of the First Men you know, and drove the Children of the Forest from the foot hills of the Red Mountains before the Age of Heroes. It's said the founder of our House, Corrin Redlark, took the last daughter of the Forest left in the Mountains as a bride as part of the pact that ended the war. Now Lonely Oak is all that's left of the sacred grove, the tower built around its last weirdwood tree."

"Does Uncle Corlys keep to the Old Gods, like the Blackwoods do?" he asked.

"Gods no, we haven't worshipped the Old Gods since before the Conquest. Lonely Oak has a sept, has had a sept for hundreds of years. And if I'm being honest I don't think my lord brother keeps any gods. None but himself at least."
>>
Ser Lincoln said the last with bitter humour. He was drinking wine with breakfast, and not small wine either.

"If there are Gods," he said, "they've never smiled on our House."

You knew little about House Redlark. All you knew was they were a stormlander house from the Dornish marches. Lady Marisa wasn't one to tell you what time it was for dinner, least of all the history of her family.

"Mother's never let us visit Lonely Oak," Gareth said, "Why is that? Why have we never met Uncle Corlys?"

His uncle gave him a look across the table. "Your mother has her reasons," he said, taking another, longer drink of wine.

Where was Lady Marisa? Not that you cared too much, only you'd prefer to know where the scorpion was at any given time.

Alyssa poured you a cup of small wine, and now you were getting very nervous. She watched you drink over a platform of her interlocked fingers, smiling.

Lord Garlan came out from his tent ready for the day, but didn't stop for breakfast. Fixing the sleeve of his doublet, he set off for his business with Lord Fallow. It made you think of the red hand on black, the symbol of House Fallow, and Alyssa's dream of bloody red hands that had so frightened her.

She looked as if she hadn't slept. Not last night or the night before.

"I'd like to declare a truce between us," she said, "Until the tourney is over at least."

A truce?

>say: A truce then, for now
>say: I want more than a truce, I want an apology too
>say: A truce with you? Never.
>>
>>5518816
>say: I want more than a truce, I want an apology too
>>
test
>>
>>5518816
>>say: I want more than a truce, I want an apology too
>>
>>5518816
>say: I want more than a truce, I want an apology too

We already made her a promise and she spat in our face for it with that fight she picked. She will also need to come to the training field if we are to watch over her.
>>
>>5518816
>What, so at the end of the tourney I'm back to being afraid that any day you could scream rape and have me gelded or hung? I thought my life was over today, you can't even imagine what that feels like. I'm not making any truces until you tell me what you are playing at.
>>
>>5518816
>say: A truce then, for now
>So you are finally admitting that you have been antagonizing me?
Can we post again now?
>>
>>5518835
This was meant to be
>say: I want more than a truce, I want an apology too
I copied the wrong one.
>>
>>5518830
Support
What if this is a trap
>>
>>5518816
>say: I want more than a truce, I want an apology too

Asking for an apology definitely won't start shit up again right?

Anyways if possible as a write in/+ option. I would be fine if Edric apologized for strangling her. Alyssa fucked up by screaming and being a little shit. And then Edric fucked up even more for being a total dumbass and getting physical.

>>+Apologize for almost strangling her to death.
>>
>>5518851
Hell fucking no. Alyssa has been playing on Edric's nerves for years.
She asks for protection and then not a day later organises 6 guys beating Edric bloody.
Bitch got what she deserved.
>>
>>5518851
+1
>>
>>5518851
We apologise for nothing. Have some self respect. Not to mention i am pretty sure she will just see it as weakness and try to fuck is over more if we did
>>
>>5518816
>say: A truce then, for now
Screw the apology
>>
>>5518816
Test we back?
>>
>>5518816
Sweet we're back, either she’s scared about house Fallow enough to be having consecutive nightmares or something else is going on, also Uncle confirmed the COTF thing so Alyssa could very likely be a green dreamer.

Either way I think demanding an apology will start things all over again if it fails or will reveal how serious she’s being about this rather than that I propose trying to get something less direct out of her instead of a demanded apology.

>A truce? And what do I get?
>>
>>5518888
+1 to this
>>
>>5518851
My guy she's at least moved on and at most got something out of it, apologising is just being foolish.
>>
Can we get a new thread some time soon? Takes me like 5 minutes to load this one.
>>
Also I suspect Harry was based and correct as he's always been and half this shit with Alyssa could be solved by kissing her or whatever.
>>
>>5518816
Switching
>>5518868
To
>>5518888
>>
>>5518816
>say: I want more than a truce, I want an apology too
>>
>>5518900
when is a good time to archive and start new threads? I've seen stuff hang around in the catalog for months
>>
>>5518816
>say: I want more than a truce, I want an apology too
>>
>>5518912
I'd just run till its at the bottom of the catalogue then archive and run
>>
>>5518912
I mean the thread is already starting to lag on mobile. So I guess if you finish the arc/plot hook you had in mind for the tournament that would be a nice stopping point for a new thread.
>>
>I want more than a truce, I want an apology too

Edric's not going to take it

no he's not going to take

not 100% this time anyway

writing it up
>>
>>5518912
I believe one QM is allowed to have up to 5 threads going at the same time so you don't need to worry about that.
As for the matter of "when" it's up to you but with more than 1k replies nobody can say that you've abandoned the thread too soon. Most threads don't get even half of that.
>>
>>5518928
Anymore
>>
>>5518936
Should really be the mandate going forward, don't take shit unless we plan on giving it back.
>>
>>5518939
Well, her call is condescending and neverending.
This is something only we have the right to choose
>>
>>5518948
Sounds like we should take control then, at least taking more than a truce is a start in that respect.
>>
>>5518953
One day we will fight the powers that be, with the people that know us, find a place where we belong.
But for now, we have to deal with this twisted sister.
>>
>>5518966
Heh not where I was going but I like the moxy.
>>
"I want more than a truce," you snapped, "I want an apology. I thought my life was over today, Allie. You ask for my help then do nothing but get me into trouble. I'm due one." As composed as you seemed something was still shaken up inside you, your wits frayed from the morning's events. It strained your voice in a way you misliked.

"An apology?" she said, stirring what was left of her pottage, "After what you...oh well all right, I suppose I can do that. 'I'm sorry', does that satisfy you?"

It didn't seem sincere, but then you always doubted her sincerity. Words, as they say, are wind.

"Where were you yesterday?" you said, "You weren't at the training ground. If I'm supposed to protect you, you need to stick with me."

"Mmm," was her reply, a tired little sound as she took a sip of wine.

"When was the last night you slept?"

"A few nights ago," she said, "The dreams...oh, I suppose that's it, I've just been tired. I'm sorry for picking a fight with you this morning. Just lack of sleep." All this talk of sleep made her yawn, which made you yawn.

'Just lack of sleep' didn't explain all the other times she had picked a fight with you.

"Yesterday I was with Samantha Highgarden, looking at her father's birds while our mothers talked. They brought a nice pair of falcons from Old Town, they plan to gift them to Lord Tyrell. You'd have found it very boring."

"All the same," you said, "If this truce is going to work, you'll stay in my sight and not cause trouble."

"I promise, brother," she said, "I will stay in your sight, so you can watch me always."

The way she said it was meant to be mocking, you thought. It came out teasing, and made you uncomfortable in a way you didn't want to enjoy.

"I'd like to be away from here anyway," she said more seriously, "Mother has invited Lord Fallow's witch over to read her palm."

Lord Fallow's witch? You were behind on some news. She must have seen it on your face, but didn't take it as a chance to mock you. Instead her face grew dour, the tiredness under her eyes deepening.

"Yes, a witch, or a bloodmage or whatever. Some creature from Essos he has in his service. All the ladies are asking her to read their palms and tell their fortunes." She grew quiet, grasping the ends of her shawl so tight you thought she might strangle herself. A witch, with the red hand. Maybe there was more to her dream than just a girl's mense nightmares. You didn't like it, you certainly mistrusted the talk of witches.

"There's a hedge wizard in the camp I'd hoped to talk to," she said, "About my dreams. If I may, with your permission."

Condescension dripped from her voice.

>say: I need to be at training with the Bastards, we can visit your hedge wizard afterward
>say: all right, but we need to be quick. I'm expected somewhere
>say: stuff the hedge wizard and your dreams, just put it out of your mind Alyssa
>>
>>5518973
>say: I need to be at training with the Bastards, we can visit your hedge wizard afterward
>>
>>5518973
>say: I need to be at training with the Bastards, we can visit your hedge wizard afterward
>We don't know how long the meeting with the wizard will take, so we better do it properly then rush and get nothing.
>>
>>5518973
>>say: I need to be at training with the Bastards, we can visit your hedge wizard afterward
>>
>>5518973
>Highgarden
Samantha Hightower

whoops
>>
>>5518973
>say: all right, but we need to be quick. I'm expected somewhere
Frankly, I'm as curious as she is, even if I know well what dreams and prophecy does to one's prick.
>>
>>5518973
Is....she bloody serious? talk about walking into the jaws of the beast bloody hell I bet whoever it is will see her magic and have some inkling about doing something with it and boom bloody hands prophecy forfilled.

Shes bloody nutty if she's set on it
>"you are bloody stupid Alyssa stay away from them"
>[more quietly] "please"
>>
>>5518973
>say: I need to be at training with the Bastards, we can visit your hedge wizard afterward


>>5518912
Archive the thread at around page 5 because there's a serial sabotager misarchiving threads for fun. Archived threads keep updating so we can use the thread even after it's archived. Start a new thread when this one hits page 9, or has too many posts to load quickly (around 1800-2000)
>>
>>5518973
>I need to be at training with the Bastards, we can visit your hedge wizard afterward
>>
>>5518973
>say: all right, but we need to be quick. I'm expected somewhere
>>
>>5518996
Stupid misread on my part I'll change too
>say: I need to be at training with the Bastards, we can visit your hedge wizard afterward
>>
>>5518973
>say: all right, but we need to be quick. I'm expected somewhere
>>
>not having spooky forbidden nightime adventures with Alyssa
>>
>>5518973
>>say: all right, but we need to be quick. I'm expected somewhere
>>
>>5519063
The afterwards option pushes the wizard adventure later in the day right? I'm down for anything forbidden. :^)
>>
>>5518973
>say: I need to be at training with the Bastards, we can visit your hedge wizard afterward

We could frame it that we need to take Gawen to train some more if he’ll have any hope of not being eliminated immediately (and joke that we need to train more ourselves if Alyssa doesn’t want Catling winning the wager… ). Also at some point we should thank Gareth for running off to bring the cavalry to save us and the bastards.
>>
>>5519084
Meant to say Gareth needs more training and so do we. All we do is train though, it is more important to us than talking about her dreams.
>>
>>5519084
Support, mentioning the 'Catling will get to kiss you' thing is great.
>>
>I need to be at training with the Bastards, we can visit your hedge wizard afterward

Edric is setting the terms and dictating the day
>>
>>5519106
Honestly, Alyssa relaxing with the other girls during the day might also be good for her
>>
>>5519083
Either that or get rip-roaring drunk because of the morning with her.

Either way I have ideas about evening shennanigans
>>
>>5518978
>Support
>>
"You can visit your hedge wizard later," you said, "Right now Gareth and I need to be training with the Bastards. I mean to win the melee, unless you want to kiss Catling Storm?"

Alyssa looked away, twinning a tress around her finger in sudden embarassment. You felt your first flash of genuine pleasure at her discomfort, and getting up fetched Gareth and the horses.

It was on the way out that you met her entering the camp, coming in as you were leaving. You didn't know what you looked at, not at first. Two men-at-arms in the colours and sigil of House Fallow, the red hand on black on their chest, with tall open faced helms and stoat spears, guarding a man and a woman.

She looked a walking tent herself, in a great dress of black and red covering her girth, with a hood to cover her hair. From the hood hung a veil made of strange golden coins linked by silk thread tied htrough the square holes in the middle of the coins, their boundary stamped with an alien script. What suggestion of a face you saw behind the veil was broad and fat cheeked, with narrow scrutinizing eyes. She wore a jewelled ring on each finger, a band of metal cutting into the fat, that it had to be painful to her. Other jewels hung from her shoulders and round waist, and she smelled of cinnamon and cloves.

The veil of coins shushed as she walked, and when she came to a stop the eyes behind the strange veil turned first to you, then Alyssa.

The man with her was Ser Greydon Fallow in a fine tunic and House colours, sword at his belt. They were in deep conversation.

"And that's all you think is left of magic?" he asked.

"Yes," she said, still considering Alyssa, "The Doom began it, and then there was your great Dancing. Year by year since it fails us more. The only magic still potent is in blood and shadow. The deepest magics, and the darkest." She spoke in a sort of Westerosi that made each word harsh and guttural, her voice naturally deep. "But I hear much of your Greenhand and his childer, and this is magic not known to me."

You passed them both without speaking, Alyssa turning her head down, fearful to catch the witch's gaze.

"Stories," Ser Greydon said.

"Stories, yes, they are deep magic too," the witch said, head tilting to follow Alyssa like some strange fat bird before continuing on, the shush of her coin veil returning.

Alyssa grabbed your arm, staring right ahead. You could feel her shivering. Chestnut whickered beside you.

"You want to ride?" you asked her. She nodded, mounting Chestnut for the rest of your journey to Harry's little paddock.

With her up on Chestnut's back you escorted her through the tourney ground, past the hawkers and the performers, your brother behind you. Like a knight escorting a lady, you thought, and then thought that thought was stupid. Truth was you were unnerved too, and happy not to have Alyssa anxiously clinging to you, fouling up your sword arm.
>>
You arrived later than the rest. The others were riding in formation, knee to knee, watched as ever by Linette Flowers and her friends. When Linette saw you, she rose with a smile.

"I see you're standing, all must have gone well with your father," Linette said. Funny how yesterday felt a week ago already. "Harry said he found you in a funny state this morning."

"I'm fine," you said, more gruffly than you intended.

Joffrey broke from formation and galloped over.

"Alyssa," he said, "Come to watch us make fools of ourselves again today?"

"I would love a little foolishness right now, Joffrey," Alyssa said. You helped her down from her horse.

"I'll fetch my motley!" Joffrey said.

"A finer fool than a fighter," said Roderick, riding over to join him, "Say now my lady, we've all heard your promise to Joffrey. Is it true? Only I'd have your favour if it is."

"Ah boys, as ever their minds are on one thing," Linette said, taking Alyssa by the arm, "Why don't you concern yourselves with beating on one another, and leave the girl be for a day."

"I'm afraid you're late, Roddy," Joff said, "I've already asked Lady Alyssa for her favour."

"And I don't see it on you, Joff," Roderick said.

"I've yet to make up my mind who will wear it," Alyssa said, "Mayhap its wasted on squires, and I plan to save it for a ser knight in the lists."

They both went glum at that, while Linette laughed, and bore Alyssa down into the company of her friends, the girls fast becoming a gaggle of sisters.

"And you, Edric," Joffrey said, "Ready for the competition? You'll want to protect your sister's virtue from a rogue like our Roddy."

"While you're the pure hearted white knight," Roderick retorted.

You closed your eyes, relaxing into the banter of other boys, a welcome reprieve from the high drama of this morning.

When you opened them, you were ready to fight.

>challenge Roderick Flowers
>challenge Catling Storm
>challenge Timmet Flowers
>challenge Joffrey Penrose
>challenge Harry Hill
>challenge Gareth Clover
>>
(back tomorrow)
>>
>>5519202
>challenge Catling Storm
She seems pretty good
>>
>>5519202
>challenge Joffrey Penrose

We fought Harry last time, lets check out Joff.

I think the melee would be a good point to start a new thread Munkun
>>
>>5519201
>"The Doom began it, and then there was your great Dancing. Year by year since it fails us more. The only magic still potent is in blood and shadow. The deepest magics, and the darkest."
shit she knows her stuff, that might be bad.

>challenge Joffrey Penrose
He wanted Alyssa's favor time to get territorial.
>>
>>5519202
>>challenge Catling Storm
>>
>>5519202
>challenge Joffrey Penrose

>>5519206
Seconded
>>
>>5519202
>challenge Catling Storm
>>
>>5519202
>>challenge Catling Storm
Edric is looking for a challenge. What best to challenge him than a woman fighter? She'll keep Edric on his toes ; )
>>
>>5519314
>Get ass beat by Caitlin a girl
>Alyssa never stops giving our shit
>[suffering intensifies]
>>
Challenge Garlan Clover.
I'm joking.

>challenge Harry Hill
I'll bash my head into this wall until the wall gives up
>>
>>5519202
>>challenge Roderick Flowers
why not
>>
>>5519336
we already fought him though.
>>
>>5519202
>challenge Catling Storm
You only get better if you fight the strongest
>>
>>5519202
>challenge Roderick Flowers
>>
I like the Idea of Edric getting into ring fights.
>>
>>5519202
> challenge Catling Storm

Can we ask her what she thinks of the rest of the bastards? Who is better than who?
>>
>>5519202
>challenge Joffrey Penrose
>>
>>5519341
>I'll bash my head into this wall until the wall gives up
>>
>>5519463
a fair and valid argument.
>>
>>5519202
>challenge Joffrey Penrose
>>
>>5519202
>challenge Roderick Flowers
>>
>>5519202
>>challenge Joffrey Penrose
>>
>>5519202
>challenge Catling Storm
>>
>>5519202
>challenge Catling Storm
>>
>>5519937
>>5519942
Seriously?
>>
>>5519202
>>challenge Joffrey Penrose
>>
>>5519204
+1
>>
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>>5519947
lmao kinda sussy ngl
>>
>>5519204
>>5519264
>>5519294
>>5519314
>>5519388
>>5519406
>>5519937
>>5519942
>>5519966
Catling Storm

>>5519206
>>5519210
>>5519272
>>5519451
>>5519499
>>5519539
>>5519948
Joffrey Penrose

Fighting Catling wins (for those who don't know, a 'catling' is on archaic term for a kitten)
>>
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>>5520016
>The two 1 post ID's swing the vote
>>
>>5520007
>>5520018
Really makes you think
>>
(I'm going to try some tweaks to the combat rules in this next fight. if they don't work out too well, I'll give them another tweak before the melee)
>>
Tim shot a joke to Catling and her rough laugh rolled across the field. You'd always meant to test her mettle. Mounting Chestnut, you strapped your shield to your arm and drew your sword, galloping toward her. She turned her destrier, Goblin, as you approached. The stallion snorted at your Chestnut, hoof digging at the soft wet earth in challenge.

"Edric, ready to test your luck?" Catling said. She drew her sword in her right hand, then her axe in the left. Catling was a good enough rider, and knew her horse Goblin so well, she only needed the strength of her calves to direct the horse. She grinned the way she did only with a weapon in hand, bright teeth bared in a joyful snarl.

You drummed your pommel on the edge of your shield in answer.

"You'd better give me more challenge than the other Reach bastards," Catling said, Goblin letting out a deep snort of aggression, "I've barely broken a sweat this morning."

You laughed. "I'll sweat you, Storm," you said, "See if I don't."

She laughed again. With a squeeze of her calves she set Goblin forward, charging toward you, laughing as she came.
-

>Catling is your equal in most things, you're both tough and wearing equal quality equipment) (DC50), but is riding a good warhorse (-10DC)

>take a defensive stance (lowers Catling's dice pool by 1 but adds a further -5 DC to hit her. DC35 to hit)
>take an aggressive stance (+10 DC to hit Catling but adds +5 to your own DC. DC50 to hit her, DC55 to hit you)
>take a balanced stance (no change to the DC, DC40 to hit)

>(a bigger change, negatives to your roll don't necessarily equal positives to your opponent's roll. It will in some instances, but not in every instance. So Catling being at DC40 for riding Goblin 'doesn't' equal her having DC60 to hit Edric.)

>(If one combatant makes three successes in a single pass their opponent is knocked off their horse)

>(I'm keeping both combatants having a dice pool. I know some of you don't like it, but I'm going to figure out some kind of soak rule for 'real' life or death fights to minimize some of your problems with it)
>>
>>5520064
>take an aggressive stance (+10 DC to hit Catling but adds +5 to your own DC. DC50 to hit her, DC55 to hit you)
>>
>>5520064
>>take an aggressive stance (+10 DC to hit Catling but adds +5 to your own DC. DC50 to hit her, DC55 to hit you)
Are we rolling now or after this vote closes?
>>
>>5520064
>take an aggressive stance (+10 DC to hit Catling but adds +5 to your own DC. DC50 to hit her, DC55 to hit you)
40 DC is tough to begin with, trading 5 DC for 10 sounds like a steal. So good in fact I think it might be broken lol. Why wouldn't we pick it?
>>
>>5520064
>take an aggressive stance (+10 DC to hit Catling but adds +5 to your own DC. DC50 to hit her, DC55 to hit you)
>>
>>5520064
>take a defensive stance (lowers Catling's dice pool by 1 but adds a further -5 DC to hit her. DC35 to hit)
>>
>>5520066
after the vote closes

>>5520069
taking a defensive stance makes it impossible to unhorse Edric in a pass
>>
shit, I have to head out for a couple of hours

I'll close the vote when I get back
>>
>>5520074
Is there a reason why the melee is being held on horseback, they are usually on foot. Is it because they didnt want any poor people or just to keep the numbers down ?
>>
>>5520078
melees in A Song of Ice and Fire (as well as in the medieval period generally) are regularly fought on horseback
>>
>>5520080
Even squire melees ?
>>
>>5520064
>take an aggressive stance (+10 DC to hit Catling but adds +5 to your own DC. DC50 to hit her, DC55 to hit you)

Any chance we can persuade Gareth if we can ride his warhorse in the melee? “I can protect you better little bro if I have a suitable horse”. Chesnut is a brutal handicap when literally everyone else rides a warhorse.
>>
>>5520064
>take a defensive stance (lowers Catling's dice pool by 1 but adds a further -5 DC to hit her. DC35 to hit)

Interesting changes to the system munk I'll have to see how this plays out.
>>
>>5520088

Seriously, why didnt father get us a common warhorse over Chestnut, i know he meant it as a gift as it is a really good riding horse, but still.

>>5520089
Feel like it has slowed combat down to a crawl in my opinion
>>
>>5520088
Persuading, stealing or otherwise taking Gareth's horse is going to look really shitty and Marissa is going to jump on that, we had the chance to acquire a warhorse by stealing Hobbs but we didn't.

>>5520092
Fathers been pretty neglectful I see this melee as a chance to show we have what it takes for investing in our martial future.

As for combat I'm going to see how it plays out their is a reason Forgotten runs the system how he does though is all I can say at the moment since O can't go into detail.
>>
Can we confiscate someone's better warhorse in the melee after we defeat them? Like not offer to ransom it back? Or is it too dishonourable to consider, or not allowed in a squire's melee? I remember Jorah going bankrupt from losing too many times in jousts.
>>
>>5520064
>take a defensive stance (lowers Catling's dice pool by 1 but adds a further -5 DC to hit her. DC35 to hit
>>
>>5520101
>a warhorse by stealing Hobbs
And that wouldn't look shitty at all and wouldn't have any consequences whatsoever.
>>
>>5520105
Sad to say but that isnt something that happens in melee's only the joust
>>
>>5520064
>take a defensive stance (lowers Catling's dice pool by 1 but adds a further -5 DC to hit her. DC35 to hit)
>>
>>5520110
Can't we ask the bastard gang to give Edric one of their horses if it's rider gets unhorsed?
>>
>>5520109
At least with Hobb we are not directly fucking with Marissa's family in a way that looks overtly shitty and self-serving.
>>
>>5520132
Perhaps better to ask Father for a warhorse then? Literally every other bastard/squire has one. He literally asked us to protect Gareth
>>
>>5520064
>take a defensive stance (lowers Catling's dice pool by 1 but adds a further -5 DC to hit her. DC35 to hit)
>>
>>5520064
>>take a defensive stance (lowers Catling's dice pool by 1 but adds a further -5 DC to hit her. DC35 to hit)
Time to fight
>>
>>5520064
>take an aggressive stance (+10 DC to hit Catling but adds +5 to your own DC. DC50 to hit her, DC55 to hit you)
Whoops forgotten to vote
>>
Rolled 2 (1d2)

>>5520084
they never really detail what's included in a squire melee iirc so I'm just treating it as a regular melee but for squires and sons of nobles still in their minority

>>5520065
>>5520066
>>5520069
>>5520070
>>5520088
>>5520160
aggressive

>>5520072
>>5520089
>>5520108
>>5520114
>>5520150
>>5520157
defensive

looks like a split vote

going to roll a 1d2

1 is aggressive, 2 is defensive
>>
>>5520213
defensive it is

>>5520092
>Feel like it has slowed combat down to a crawl in my opinion
I mean to have the stance votes be shorter to keep these fights quick, but I had to be somewhere
>>
>roll 3d100 DC 35
>>
Rolled 73 (1d100)

>>5520219
>>
Rolled 30 (1d100)

>>5520219
Unless we get a crit, I don't see us winning this.
>>
Rolled 25 (1d100)

>>5520219
C'mon dice gods
>>
>>5520222
>>5520223
Nice.
>>
>>5520222
>>5520223
Lucky! Still not out of the woods yet though.
>>
Rolled 53, 24 = 77 (2d100)

>>5520223
>>5520222
two successes!

Catling keeps her horse

now rolling for Cat at DC50 to hit

because of Edric's defensive action I'm only rolling 2d100
>>
>>5520229
one success from Catling

writing it up
>>
>Attacks Alyssa and get away with it
>Now womps Cat
Is Edric just good at attacking women?
>>
>>5520246
Edric should get a combat bonus when fighting against females of any species
>>
>>5520251
>Perk:waifubeater
>>
Shield ready you watched her charge, her breathless laugh as she swung her axe. You caught it on your shield, the force of the blow breaking a splinter from its surface. You struck with your sword, ringing her helm, but you fought cautious against the rain of her weapons, sword and axe in a constant motion, striking against the armour of your shield and sword.

Goblin shouldered Chestnut with an angry snort, lip pulled back to show long blunt teeth. Chestnut stepped back with a frightened little snort. you kept the gelding in control with your legs, your upper body twisting to match Catling.

The girl was fierce and unrelenting in the attack. You picked your counter attack with care. There was a moment where neither sword or axe were in front of her, and in that moment you jabbed forth your shield, pinning her axe arm high and delivering a hard thump down on her shoulder, blade crunching against her mail. You pressed close, thigh to thigh, as she sought to drum her sword pommel on your head.

A twist of your hip drove the rim of your shield into the side of her helm and you saw her wits scatter for a moment, but she countered it by dropping the hook of her axe behind your neck and drove her forehead into yours as she pulled back on the axe, bringing your head forward.

A stunning maiden's kiss, in a fashion.

She drew back breathless and sweating beneath her helm, Goblin a steed of dark anger beneath her.

Blood trickled down from under her helm, to weep down the slope of her cheek. She was hurt, though not badly.

You shook your head to clear your wits, Chestnut stomping in a showy gait at the wrathful Goblin.

-
>next pass. Catling has taken 2 out of 4 wounds and has a penalty of -5 imposed against her to hit DC. one more success will unhorse her.

>take a defensive stance (lowers Catling's dice pool by 1 but adds a further -5 DC to hit her. DC40 to hit her. DC 50 to hit you.)
>take an aggressive stance (+10 DC to hit Catling but adds +5 to your own DC. DC55 to hit her, DC55 to hit you)
>take a balanced stance (no change to the DC, DC45 to hit her. DC50 to hit you)
>>
>>5520269
>take an aggressive stance (+10 DC to hit Catling but adds +5 to your own DC. DC55 to hit her, DC55 to hit you)
>>
>>5520269
>>take a defensive stance (lowers Catling's dice pool by 1 but adds a further -5 DC to hit her. DC40 to hit her. DC 50 to hit you.)
She needs 2 more successes while we need just one. Seems like giving her one less dice would be a good idea.
>>
>>5520269
>take an aggressive stance (+10 DC to hit Catling but adds +5 to your own DC. DC55 to hit her, DC55 to hit you)
Don't tempt fate with another low DC. 55 is good, we can finish in one round.
>>
>>5520269
>take an aggressive stance (+10 DC to hit Catling but adds +5 to your own DC. DC55 to hit her, DC55 to hit you)

Alright at equal DCs it's pretty much who gets luckier. Although we do have advantage in wounds dealt
>>
>>5520269
>take an aggressive stance (+10 DC to hit Catling but adds +5 to your own DC. DC55 to hit her, DC55 to hit you)
>>
>>5520271
>>5520283
>>5520287
>>5520294
Smelling blood in the water, Edric's going all out

>roll 3d100 dc 55
>>
Rolled 82 (1d100)

>>5520308
>>
Rolled 81 (1d100)

>>5520308
>>
Rolled 63 (1d100)

>>5520308
>>
Let's hope Catling sucks too
>>
Rolled 34, 9, 8 = 51 (3d100)

>>5520320
>>5520314
>>5520311
bad rolls from Edric this turn.

now its Catling. 3d100 dc 55
>>
welp

that's just how dice go
>>
Alas the dice gods do not smile on Edric. 0 and 2. Not a good time for our protagonist lol
>>
>>5520326
Wow. Dest-fucking-royed.
>>
I wish I could say "We should have taken defensive" but we still would be fucked even then.
>>
>>5520333
he's still just a 13 year old kid, give him time, experience, and better equipment (and me figuring out the system a bit more)
>>
>>5520338
With defensive Catling couldn't have unhorsed us. And it would have led to a final round to decide the fight.
>>
>>5520333
We’re a twelve year old taking on the biggest squires. Harry and Caitlin are the best of the Bastards, Hopefully Edboy can learn from getting clapped these two days.
>>
>>5520342
Also a better horse. Catling is like 2-3 years older than us and has a proper warhorse.

Could you have Edric talk with Father about borrowing a warhorse from the retinue ?
>>
>>5520342
Yeah, not angry or anything, just amused.
>>
>>5520343
>With defensive Catling couldn't have unhorsed us
Only on the first round I believe. Since we got 1 wound to start with in the second 2 successes would still unhorse us. And she got 3.
>>
It honestly speak to Edric's skills that he can go toe to toe with these older more experienced squires and bastards.
>>
>>5520350
I was working under the assumption both Catling and Edric both have a wound pool of 4. In the fight with the Peake asshats, Edric had a wound pool of. I actually forgot about the wound pool until the last update.

So it would have been impossible for Catling to KO us in a single round with defensive since she can't roll 3 dice.
>>
>>5520353
He's a tenacious one when it comes to a fight that's for sure.
>>
>>5520375
Tenacious fighters are usually the ones that get cut down.
>>
>>5520361
If the way health is lifted from the STV rules its
>Healthy (+5DC)
>Battered (+0DC)
>Injured (-5DC)
>Slain

But Munk has tuned things as he sees fit
>>
So, should we be worried about Catling getting yeeted by the blood witch? We know she seems to have some insight into magic and potentially who practices it from how Alyssa fears her, but Catling is also probably of King's Blood by being a bastard of King Aegon.

And we know how good that shit is.
>>
>>5520384
This is why you git good
>>
>>5520375
Catling did say we were shit at picking our fights when we got swarmed
>>
You saw your opening, a chance to unhorse her as she swayed a moment in her saddle, catching herself on the horn. You let burst the battlecry of House Clover, 'The Rose!' and drove Chestnut into a gallop, blood quickening with your breath. A golden excitement at the chance of victory.

But Catling was more seasoned then you were. She recovered her wits, and had up her axe to ward your first cut, swiping it away, then cutting her sword down on the edge of your shield to drive open a gap the back swing of her axe entered. Your head run as the side of her axe rung off your helm. Catling's face was pale and focused behind the bar of her helm.

The two of you all but embraced as you clashed, the sweet smell of mint on her breath wafting across your lips, your own hot gasping as you struggled against the tall girl, your sword and her axe bound together high overhead. She hammered her hilt in the side of your head until you felt sick, vainly trying to wedge your shield between you. You released your sword to grab at her shirt of mail, gloved fingers sinking into the links, trying to grab a strap to make this a wrestling match, to pull her from her saddle.

She dropped her axe to bind your grabbing arm with her own, twisting it to bring sharp pain jolting in your shoulder. Your teeth clenched, neck bulging with effort.

She pressed her sword to your neck.

"Yield," she said.

"Never," you said.

And she grinned, pulling you close to plant a kiss on your cheek before twisting your arm til she dragged you from the saddle and releasing you, dumped you on the ground. You landed on the soft earth for the second time in two days, your shoulder throbbing with a painful heat. The wet dew on the grass soaked into your leggings, you panting there on all fours, ill from the blows to your head. You took off your helmet, feeling too hot in it.

Catling dismounted, and then her left knee buckled and she almost fell to the ground.

"I thought you had me for a second," she said, "You hit hard for your size."

You'd thought so too. Over confident, it turned out.

She took off her helm and pulled down her mail coif, shaking out damp sweat-heavy black locks. Touching fingers to her cheek, dipping them in the blood running down the side of her face.

"Well you did sweat me, Edric, and bled me too."

You looked up into smiling lilac eyes. She pressed her bloody finger tips to your temple, a strange sort of kinship between you, then helped you on your feet. There, with her hip pressed to your thigh, you realized she was more hurt than she showed, and you'd given her a good showing, as you helped each other toward Linette's picnic.

Roderick galloped over to fetch Chestnut.

"Lady Storm wins again," Linette said, "I think you'll be the victor come the melee."

"It'll come to me or Harry," she said, "Or Roderick if one of us gets unlucky."

"You think so?" Alyssa asked, and looked at you with some odd knowing.
>>
"I haven't forgotten the true prize, my lady," Catling said, with a grin that discomforted your sister. Catling took a seat on the blanket, you crashed down beside her, and Linette fussed over your injuries.

You had a bruise swelling on the side of your head. Her touch made you hiss and her fingers retarcted, a flash of concern on her golden face. A look you were most unused to.

It was Alyssa flicked the bruise and you all but yowled.

"Maiden's tits, Alyssa!" you barked, glaring back into her michevious grin. Linette slapped the back of your head. You looked into a cross expression.

Linette's anger was almost adorable when she said hotly, "No blasphemies!"

Catling laughed at your misfortune, beginning to slice into a green apple with her knife, juice spilling over her fingers.

The others trained a while longer before breaking for a meal.

"How did you become so fierce a warrior, Catling?" Linette asked.

Catling munched a wedge of sour apple. "My guardian is Ser Jasper Penrose, who was master-at-arms at Storm's End for a time," she said, "He caught me playing swords with Joffrey when I was small, and thought to teach me enough to defend myself. I did not take it seriously though until I was ten. My grandsire found me a private tutor, a woman from Dorne called Yolanthe Two-Swords, who had spent time as a sellsail in Essos. She taught me a better way to fight. I'm strong enough for a woman, but will never match strength for strength against a man grown. So she taught me to be fierce and unrelenting in the attack, and finish the fight quickly."

"And then at ten and four she taught me much more," she said that last with a grin.

"The secret kisses," Alyssa whispered with a blush.

"All three and two more," Catling said.

"So you do prefer women?" Linette asked.

"Oh, I enjoy men too, but a woman won't put a child in my belly, and I'm not born for motherhood. I am a warrior's daughter," she said.

You swallowed and looked at the ants crawling toward Linette's basket rather than at the sweaty, bloody young woman next to you. It left Alyssa blushing, but Linette only smiled with a benign curiosity while her lady friends giggled.

The others finished training, breaking from the yeard over to the gathering on the picnic blanket. Linette returned to treating your wounds, superficial though they were.

"We're ready as we'll be," Harry said, helping himself to a chunk of fresh baked bread.

"Mine is Aladore Florent, don't any of you touch him," Roderick said, "I'll put our precious cousin in the mud."

"He's yours," Timmet said, "I've no grudge to fight, I only hope to keep my horse until the end. I know I'm worst among us, saving little Gareth, no offense."

Your brother frowned as if he did.

"And you'll want Gormy Peake?" Harry asked.

>say: Yes, leave Gormon Peake to me
>say: I don't mind who deals wih him
>>
>>5520434
>say: Yes, leave Gormon Peake to me
>>
>>5520434
>say: Yes, leave Gormon Peake to me

Just keep his friends off me while i deal with him
>>
>>5520434
>say: I don't mind who deals wih him
Edric already dropped him. Strong men don't hold grudges against their lessers.
>>
>>5520446
Fucker showed up with his knight and friends and wanted to take our hand. We also got a flogging because of him as well.
>>
>>5520434
>>say: Yes, leave Gormon Peake to me
>>
>>5520434
>>say: Yes, leave Gormon Peake to me
>>
>>5520434
by the way

>Ask Linette for her favour for the melee
>>
>>5520466
you'll get a chance to ask for favours soon
>>
Ask Marisa for her favour :^)
>>
>>5520434
>"Oh, I enjoy men too, but a woman won't put a child in my belly, and I'm not born for motherhood. I am a warrior's daughter," she said.
Yeah, Catling isn't my waifu anymore.

>>5520434
>say: Yes, leave Gormon Peake to me
>>
>>5520434
> say: I don't mind who deals wih him
> I will be trying to keep Gareth safe and make it to the end. If he comes for us then we won’t run away. Let’s be honest though he obviously will be

>>5520466
+1


If this is a squire’s melee, who is Catling a squire to? You’ve explained how she learnt sword play (and foreplay) but not how she is qualifying to enter into what is a male dominated event. Who is sponsoring her? Is it Ser Jasper Penrose and I just didn’t understand that in the text?
>>
>>5520515
It was mentioned that she got special premission due to her Baratheon family
>>
>>5520515
>but not how she is qualifying to enter into what is a male dominated event.
here:
>>5505565
>"I too will be fighting," Catling said, arms cross over her chest, "Lord Tyrell has granted me leave to enter, on respect for my mother's House."
>>
>>5520456
>>5520452
>>5520443
>>5520441
>>5520509
Grudge match with Little Gormy
>>
>>5520434
>>say: Yes, leave Gormon Peake to me
Fuck house Peake all my bastard homies hate house Peake

>>5520466
I kinda do want to do this if we can't get Alyssa's secret favor for one reason or another as contingency to make her jealous part of why I wanted to get drunk in the evening or something after the Hedge witch
>>
>>5520533
What does getting drunk has to do with anything?
>>
>>5520539
basically it will just lead to a scenario in which probable Inhibition of their more honest feeling about each other and hopfully the suppression of the more misanthropic tendencies that have obfuscicated their relationship since neither is experienced with alcohol in any serious way.

Also not going to lie I can't see Edric soberly asking Alyssa for her favor.
>>
>>5520533
>Fuck house Peake all my bastard homies hate house Peake
Funny how we hate Peake but House Peake will be one of the biggest Blackfyre supporters later when we intend to side with the Blackfyres
>>
>>5520554
Just because we are in the same fan-club doesnt meant we have to like eachother
>>
>>5520554
That's gonna make things awkward down the line kek
>>
>>5520554
I mostly just dislike the Peakes for their post dance bullshit, this quest was less than flattering as well.

I can see Edric having a worse opinion of them when he finds out which side they take.
>>
"Yes, leave Gormon Peake to me," you said.

He had come for you with a gang and his own ser knight carrying valyrian steel. He had demanded your hand. This was personal.

Timmet sang,

'Little Gormon Peake
Opened his mouth to speak
And out came a smell
Worse then seven hells
Like shit flowing down a creek'

and the others laughed, Linette covering her mouth as she chuckled.

"He'll be Lord of Starpike one day," Jocelyn Florent said, alone in not laughing.

"Lord of Starpike and still a cunt," said Roderick.

"Yes, I've read it's...it's a malady even maesters have no cure for."

Gareth said that, awkwardly. When everyone looked at him he blushed and looked ready to run away.

Then Harry laughed. "Well said!" and scuffed your brother's hair.

"We must pray to the Seven for poor, uncurable Gormy," Joffrey said with much faux-sincerity, hands together and looking skyward. Tabitha Grimm wiped a tear of laughter from her eye.

You joined in the laughter, but your anger with Gormon still burned. You imagined him in the mud, your horse dashing his body apart. It made a sweet image.

"Rest tomorrow and ready the melee for the day after," Harry said more serious but still in good humour, "Together there's no one on the field who can match us."

"And find a lady's favour," Roderick said, "All men are made twice the fighter with their lady's favour."

With that Alyssa grabbed your arm.

"If you're done here then I want to see my wizard," she said, tugging at your elbow, "You promised, Edric."

Grumbling you got up. You had promised.

"I'll see you all later," you said, "Gareth, be home before sunset. And take care of Chestnut!"

You bid the goodbyes you could manage with Alyssa's physical impatience. Gareth frowned after the two of you as she pulled on your arm to go, treating you much as a pony treated a cart.

The sun was starting into the west, though it was still hours before evening. A fire juggler twirled burning sticks for a clutch of small folk while a velveteen seller tried to coax Alyssa's attention with a bolt of fabric. She was determined however, and did not let herself be distracted. Except for once when a small dog trotted past on its hind legs with a bean on its nose. That had her stop a second with a little giggle, but once passed her determined stride returned.

A hedge wizard, you thought. She knew they weren't really magic, didn't she? They were just smallfolk maesters, selling tinctures and ointments and little false charms to give peasants courage or hope. No little amulet had ever saved a mother from the dangers of a birthing bed...

She lead you away from the main thoroughfares to the camp ground of the smallfolk and hedge knights, the tents less grand and more worn as the sun faded further. Families set at cookfires, tired but still excited to be at a knightly tourney, and one little boy waved as you passed.

"Look mama, a lord and lady!" he called, before his mother shushed him.
>>
The woman stared with more trepedation, and gave you a non-threatening smile.

"Selyse Beesbury said there was a hedge wizard here," Alyssa said, more to herself than to you. "Ah!"

Was it a tent? If so it was a strange one, low and wholly round, the outside covered in dirty mossy sort of grass, and out the front of it hung strings of drying thyme. She stopped before the odd tent, her tired eyes wide and bright with a smile grown.

"This is it, I think," she said.

"Hallo!" a bright voice behind them.

You looked around to see what could easily 'be' a wizard. He wore a tall hate with wide brim, silver stars decorating up to the felt tip. Long tattered robes held together by a belt of many pouches. He had a short neat beard gone white and a low dark brow. He smiled easily, and lead a small pony with heavy saddle bags.

"New customers?" he said, "A pair of young sweethearts come for a lover's charm to make your bond forever, or mayhap had an accident in need of fixing?"

Alyssa blushed. You blinked in shock.

"Don't let his Dornish look fool you," she said, with all the manners of a noble lady, "Edric here is my own half-brother. You are the Wizard Chiswell?"

"I am," he said, "And you'd be a highborn girl with a brawny boy for escort, far from the tents of your father. And there's only a handful of reasons such a girl seeks such as me, and that would be...tansy tea?"

Neither you nor Alyssa knew what tansy tea was.

She shook her head. "I heard you read fortunes," she said, "I'd hoped you could read mine, and answer some questions."

This man was a charlatan, you thought, as you watched his greasy smile spread.

"The other reason then, forgive me," he said, "For a small price I can lift the veil on tomorrow and glean for you its secrets."

"How small a price?" you asked before Alyssa could answer.

"Three stags silver," the hedge wizard said.

"Done," Alyssa said as you sneered.

"Then I shall see you in a moment," he said. He hitched his pony to the tent, took off its saddlebags and disappeared within.

You grabbed Alyssa's elbow before she could enter.

"This is foolish," you said, "He's a fraud. You'll learn nothing from him expect how much three stags weigh. Wait until we return home, ask Maester Wilard, or at least someone who knows how to read."

"Let go of me, Edric," she said, her tone more sober and serious than you'd heard from her before. She looked up at you with haunted eyes. "I need answers, even wrong ones. You don't have to come in with me. you can wait outside. Like a dog."

>say: I won't be party to this nonsense (leave)
>say: Fine! Have it your way, as ever (wait outside)
>say: I won't let you do this alone (go in with her)

(next post is either tomorrow or the day after. thank you to the anon for the little song about gormon.)
>>
>>5520578
>>say: I won't let you do this alone (go in with her)
>>
>>5520578
>say: I won't let you do this alone (go in with her)

If you are gonna make a fool of yourself at least i want to see it
>>
>>5520577
>"Yes, I've read it's...it's a malady even maesters have no cure for."
Ah Gareth the hope for you yet.

>>5520578
>say: I won't let you do this alone (go in with her)
We're effectively in a bad neighbourhood, I might chance waiting just outside the room if this wasn't a tent.
>>
>>5520578
>say: I won't let you do this alone (go in with her)
>>
>>5520578
> say: I won't let you do this alone (go in with her)
I’m not a dog, I’m a viper.
>>
>>5520578
>>say: I won't let you do this alone (go in with her)
>>
Sort of want to do something to reprimand her for calling us a dog.
>>
>>5520578
>>say: I won't let you do this alone (go in with her)
we can trip her on the way out, if it goes well, and call her a bitch for calling us a dog.
>>
>>5520578
>say: I won't let you do this alone (go in with her)
>>
>>5520578
>say: I won't let you do this alone (go in with her)
>>
>>5520683
Heh, the implication.
>>
>>5520578
>say: I won't let you do this alone (go in with her)
>"I thought I was dornish viper"?
>>
>>5520578
>>say: I won't let you do this alone (go in with her)
>>
>>5520578
>say: I won't let you do this alone (go in with her)
>>
>>5520578
>>say: I won't let you do this alone (go in with her)
>thank you to the anon for the little song about gormon
You're welcome Munk : D
>>
So how will the melee take place, there must be hundreds of squires for this event. Will it take place over multiple days with multiple rounds intill we get to the finales?
>>
>>5521855
Hopefully it will be paced so we aren't just constantly running the gauntlet.
>>
literally unanimous decision here

going to write it up
>>
>>5522730
You included actual magic in the plot im not surprised lol
>>
>>5522750
It's also as of now Alyssa's only instances of acting like a not psychopath and sort of treating Edric as a human being lol. That in of itself makes it interesting.
>>
>>5522762
I mean yeah that's sort of true if you don't try and dig deeper into what happened in the morning.
>>
>>5522750
Well yeah magic is canonically real in ASOIAF.
>>
>>5522871
Yeah as opposed to most fantasy!
>>
"I won't let you do this alone," you said, "And I'm not your dog. I'm coming with you."

She made a small sigh, bowed her head. "Thank you," she said. Now that was truly a sign of how disturbed she was, thanking you.

Together you went in, you after her.

The inside of the hedge wizard's tent was neater than you expected. You had thought find a crowded, dirty place with junk scattered around to give an air of arcane mystery. Instead it was neat. A small cot in the corner, a table with stools in the middle. Some herbs dried in garlands across the ceiling, giving the small tent a pleasant aroma. It was snug in the tent, pleasantly warm.

Wizard Chiswell opened a small trunk next to his bed, pulling out a bowl and stoppered bottle of water. He took a seat, offered you both to sit, and when you had done so, unstopped the bottle and poured it into the bowl. Then he took off his hat, showing a balding pate of hair.

Alyssa took three silver stags, a handsome price, and put them on the table. You tensed at the price. Even for a noble girl three stags was no small price. Chiswell covered the coins with his hat.

"So what is it you want?" he said, stirring a mixture of herbs into the water, "To know the name of your one true love? To see if your marriage will be happy and full of children?"

Alyssa stared at the dark water. "The truth is all I'm interested in," she said.

"The truth, oh that's a funny word," Chiswell said, "Ask a maester what the truth is and he'd say you will find it in a book. A maester's book no doubt. Ask a septon and he will tell you to look to the Gods, but only his gods. Ask a pyromancer and he will say 'look into the fire'."

"I'm asking you," Alyssa said, "Will you ask me to look into the water?"

Chiswell grinned, took the bowl and drank the water and herbs. "It's been a long day," he said, putting the empty bowl down.

"Will you look at my palm?" she asked.

"If I wanted to look at your hands," he said, "And see soft, slim hands that have never known a day's work and doubtless never will. Do you believe in magic?"

"I don't know," she said.

"A wise answer," he said, "Some girls are too quick to say yes out of misguided fancy, others too quick to say no to appear wise."

"Let me rephrase, I don't know if you're magic," she said, "Selyse said you knew she lost a sister last year, but that doesn't take magic. Ask any Beesbury servant and you'd have known."

He smiled again, taking from a pouch at his belt a set of knucklebones. Well polished but yellowing bones, but they didn't look like the pig or goat bones the child's game was ordinarily played with. He sat them on the table.
>>
"My magic is the magic of the hedge," he said, "How to make a sick child well, to keep bugs from devouring crops, to keep winter's chill from entering the door. The little magic of small folk. You highborn think we're called hedge wizards for the same reason as hedge knights, because we wander without home and sleep in what shelter we find. Because you look down on those who live without your comforts."

"Please, spare us," Alyssa said, sounding much like her mother.

"Three hundred years ago no one would have doubted the existence of magic," he said, "When the dragon lords ruled from Old Valyria and their black shadows flew above the earth."

"The Doom," Alyssa said.

Chiswell nodded. Your skin prickled. Everyone knew about the Doom, though none knew what it had truly been.

"I can see a time when people forget that even dragons once lived," he said, "Even now, few of us are left who lived to see them."

See them? For the first time you were curious. You knew some old men who remembered the Dance, but they were few and far between, many too young to have been more than boys when the war was waged.

"I was there at the God's Eye," he said, "I saw the princes fight, uncle slaying nephew. What terrible rage there was. The clouds burned away by fire. The sky itself torn open red as if the heavens themselves were bleeding. The thunder of great wings as Caraxes and Vhagar danced."

Neither of you could retain much skepticism as he spoke, his hands acting out the flight of the dragons.

"Those awesome beasts, impossible beasts! Fire and leathery wings, they clashed again and again, growing ever lower in their passes. I did not see the killing blow, all I saw was a sudden erruption of the lake's quiet waters when the dragons at last fell. I wept, I wept, I will not lie! To see such creatures with my own eyes for the first time, and in that time also see their end. I felt it, their passing. I felt it in the water of my blood. And I wept on the banks of the God's Eye."

"Dragons," Alyssa whispered, her eyes ashimmer. You felt the same elation.

"But you aren't here for talk of dragons, are you?" Chiswell said. He slid the knuckle bones to her.

"Surely you do the casting," she said.

"Only if I want to see my own future," he said, "Throw the bones and let us see what they say."

Alyssa scooped them up. She looked to you as she rattled them, her brow crinkled in concentration.

"Cast them," he said. She loosed them on his table, they rattled to a stop.

It made no picture you could see.

"I heard the only magic left in the world is blood and shadow," Alyssa said, watching the wizard look over the bones.

"Feh," was his dismissive reply.

With the excitement of his dragon story gone you now considered the hedge wizard and again thought him a conniving soothsayer. Those bones said less of Alyssa's future than her morning waste did. He looked over the bones with the sage overacting of a mummer.
>>
"You're to wed one not of your choosing," he said.

"Of course, I'm a noble daughter," she said, "I didn't want to hear about marriage."

"You'll have children," he said.

"You're wasting my stags," she replied, "I'm not interested in great loves or birthing beds."

"I see...a red pair of hands," he said.

She quietened then, and you felt a dark thunder in your mind.

"There is doom about them," he said, "Doom, do you know what this word means? Most do not. They hear it and think 'death'. True, death is certain for all. But 'doom' is another word for destiny, or fate. A dark fate, as most fates are."

"Who has these red hands?" she asked, "Who are they? Tell me."

"You've seen them before?" the wizard asked, skeptical now where you had been.

Alyssa stared at the bones, and grabbed at the collar of her dress. "Reaching for me in my dreams," she said, "Red hands, covered in blood. Bloody hands, sticky and grasping. I can see them, I can see them even now! Reaching for me!" She reached out with clawed fingers, cheeks puffing and straining as if breath came through mechanical effort.

Chiswell drew back from her clawing hands, a little oath muttered under his breath. He went to his little chest and came back with an amulet hanging from a silver chain. He placed it on the table.

"Wear this against your skin at all times," he said, "Even when you bathe, at all times."

But Alyssa wasn't listening, staring into space, nor was she finished. "And a tree," she said, "I see a white tree burning! Gods, gods its burning! They're burning the tree!"

Chiswell's eyes grew wild and disturbed. "Grab her, boy," he told you, taking up the amulet.

You grabbed Alyssa's slim shoulders. She stared back at you in the same waking terror you had found her gripped by in her tent. Your heart raced. "They're burning the tree," she sobbed, "Burning it for winter kindling but it only lets the winter in!"

Chiswell forced the amulet around her neck. Alyssa bucked, thrashing in your grip, clawing at him, then at you.

"Let me go, bastard!" she said, "Let me go, dog! Don't! Don't! Let me go!"

Chiswell forced the amulet over her head, pushed it down the collar of her dress to lay against her skin. Her fighting ceased and she slackened in your grip, shaking.

"By all the Gods," Chiswell shook, disturbed, staring at your sister trembling against your chest, "Keep that girl away from me, boy. Gods, how did she know about the tree?"

"What tree?" you asked.

Chiswell chewed on his beard. He did not reply.

"Go," he said, "Get out. Take her and get away from me!"

You took Alyssa around the shoulder and walked her from the tent. The last you saw of Chiswell was his furious, terrified stare as he chewed the end of his beard.
>>
Then you were out in the darkness of night, among the tents of the smallfolk.

Some were staring, looking for the source of the shouting. Most kept their attention away from you, wanting not to get involved in highborn business. You walked a sniffing, shaking Alyssa back toward the Clover camp. You were disturbed a little yourself, a disquiet in your soul. And the bright fires of the Clover camp were little help against it.

Alyssa pulled away from you once in sight of your father's bannermen, but she seemed unsteady on her feet.

"I need sleep," she said, "I need sleep is all."

She staggered toward her tent, pale and weak.

>she shouldn't be alone. stay with her even through the night if needs be, whatever the consequences
>better she took care of herself, you'd had enough of her strange madness for one night
>with her back in camp, perhaps you should return to Chiswell with questions of your own
>>
(chunky update. not sure if I'll do more today or be back tomorrow)
>>
>>5522918
Well fuck me that was some Blumhouse shit. Spooky stuff is afoot. Give me more mystery and ominous vibes Munkun.

>she shouldn't be alone. stay with her even through the night if needs be, whatever the consequences

Also this is me, I'm away from home. >>5520883
>>
>>5522918
>she shouldn't be alone. stay with her even through the night if needs be, whatever the consequences

He werent all fake.
>>
>with her back in camp, perhaps you should return to Chiswell with questions of your own
>>
>>5522918
>>with her back in camp, perhaps you should return to Chiswell with questions of your own
>>
>>5522918
>with her back in camp, perhaps you should return to Chiswell with questions of your own
>>
>>5522918
>she shouldn't be alone. stay with her even through the night if needs be, whatever the consequences
I know where this one is going :^)
>>
>>5522918
>>with her back in camp, perhaps you should return to Chiswell with questions of your own
i DONT want SEX lady i want ANSWERS from BIG MAN
>>
What kind of questions do you guys even have that we dont already know or can assume ?

Also we are so asking to get mugged at this hour
>>
>>5522969
What do you mean "what kind of questins"? The guy didn't answer any questions at all. He just gave her the amulet and kicked us out.
There are plenty of questions that could be asked about Alyssa's gift, about her visions and about the witch.
I am not voting for now but if you can't think of any questions to ask you have no imagination.
>>
>>5522918
>>she shouldn't be alone. stay with her even through the night if needs be, whatever the consequences
She's more in need of a drink than we are fucking hell that was some shit. I mean jesus I don't even think that was green dream shit that was some portents & visions crap I mean even Chiswell was spooked by it.

go get hammered together on some strong shit it doesn't even have to have an angle they both need it.
>>
>>5522918
>with her back in camp, perhaps you should return to Chiswell with questions of your own

We did what she wanted. We’re not her dog. Just remind her to keep the amulet on her skin (since the text was that she wasn’t listening).

I’d like to get our own fortune read. Just not sure where we’d get the money.
>>
>>5522918
>she shouldn't be alone. stay with her even through the night if needs be, whatever the consequences
>>
at the risk of sabotaging my own vote, I don't think its wise to entertain anything close to sex in our fathers own camp like all it takes is someone checking in on her for shit to go south very quickly even if they just get the wrong impression. that being said I still honestly believe rendering comfort to her is going to be a huge developmental benefit.
>>
(one thing I like about A Song of Ice and Fire is how much the magic leans into supernatural horror)

(one of things I hate about Game of Thrones is how they butchered the fantasy/magic of the books)
>>
>>5523031
Not like it will go that way. We are just there to comfort her and talk
>>
>>5522918
>>with her back in camp, perhaps you should return to Chiswell with questions of your own
>>5523031
You'd have to be a completely braindead coomer to expect sex at this point
>>
>>5523013
we probably have our own funds though probably not near what Alyssa has.

>>5523033
>>5523035
I don't specifically expect it but no one expected Edric to try and choke Alyssa out either and given the emotional state of Alyssa going anywhere near that fly zone in our family camp is ringing alarm bells for me.
>>
>>5523041
Ah so that's why you want them to get hammered. You hope to get a scene of drunken children fucking.
>>
>>5523046
no, I just wanted them to get through some of their stupid barriers.

Okay maybe some drunk kissing but thats it
>>
>>5522918
>she shouldn't be alone. stay with her even through the night if needs be, whatever the consequences
>>
Rolled 1 (1d2)

>>5522927
>>5522928
>>5522949
>>5522998
>>5523022
>>5523062
shouldn't be alone

>>5523035
>>5523013
>>5522968
>>5522946
>>5522935
>>5522932
revisit Chiswell

looks like a tie

rolling a d2

1 is stay with Alyssa

2 is visit Chiswell
>>
Rolled 2 (1d2)

staying with Alyssa wins

though let me check the dice another time to see if its actually rolling and not defaulting to a 1
>>
>>5523079
Dumdum
>>
all right cool, just wanted to make sure

writing it up!
>>
You caught her by the elbow to steady her, your face grim. She made no effort to part from you this time.

"Good...good dog," she said weakly, as you walked her into her tent.

Where you had a bedroll she had a tent near as large as your living quarters back at the Rose Hall, with a small real bed in the corner, a chest of clothes and a wash stand and mirror. All the comforts of home. She went to the bed and collapsed onto it.

"What's happening to me Edric?" she muttered, fists curling in the sheets, "I think I may be going mad."

You had no answer for her, you knew nothing about magic or visions. All you knew is what she had said had disturbed the hedge wizard. She rolled onto her back, hands placed over the amulet beneath her dress, staring at the canvas ceiling. Eyes glazed with tiredness and strained wits, she looked a little mad.

"I'll bring you some food," you said.

"And you'll stay after?" she said, "When you return."

You paused in the entry of her tent. "Yes," you said. You headed out.

Dinner was river eel stuffed with rice pudding. Father was seated with Lord Tarly and Lord Beesbury.

"The Clover horses are good beasts," Tarly said to Beesbury, supporting your father, "They have tempers, but the sort you want in a warhorse."

"Fifteen dragons for a colt seems expensive..." Beesbury muttered, "For a grown horse mayhap."

"For one ungelded?" your father said, "You don't only buy a horse but a lineage. Breed him with a good mare and your sons and grandsons will thank you for it."

Trade talk. You had some interest in horseflesh but doubted you'd be wanted in such discussions. You fetched a plate of eel for Alyssa, with some Arbor wine along with it.

"Where were you?" Gareth asked.

"Out," you said, ignoring the boy and wanting to be back by your sister.

"Mother was asking," Gareth said, a fair warning.

You returned to the tent to find Alyssa nearly asleep. You nudged her awake, set the eel in her lap and the wine on her bedside table. She ate without much enthusiasm, picking the raisins from the rice. She didn't look at you. In fact she hung her head in an ashamed way. She guzzled the wine. It wasn't enough to get her drunk but it might ease her troubles.

You sat on the ground beside the bed, sword across your lap.

Then she asked a question you weren't expecting. "Do you know why mother hates you?" she asked.

"No," you said, "Do you?"

"No, but she always has. Mayhap I think I hate you too, sometimes," she said, "Mayhap I always have."

Words could wound. And it surprised you that her words did hurt, as unsurprising as the words themselves were. She had said so before, but only at the level of a shout, during some argument or said to Master Qarl as she stropped around moodily in the keep. you had said as much to her. To hear her say it in a soft, tired voice, with no anger in it. With nothing in it at all.
>>
"Why would you help someone who hates you so?" she said. She was lying down again, staring up at nothing. "Dornish bastard," she said, "black haired dog. No, I have always hated you." Again no malice or anger, blunt words softly spoken. "Mayhap...mayhap its because father loves you. His eyes are always on you."

You snorted. "Father treats me like a servant," you said, "He barely ever talks to me."

"You really are stupid," she said, then yawned, so you yawned. "Even Gareth...he's let Gareth get fat and soft because of how much he watches you."

"Is that why you hate me?" you said.

"No," she replied, "Not only that, or maybe that's the reason I tell myself. Do you hate me, Edric?"

>say: I do, most days
>say: maybe, sometimes
>say: no, not really
>let the question linger unanswered
>>
(back tomorrow)
>>
>>5523148
>say: I do, most days
This is the honest answer.
Might wanna throw in a bit about wanting that to change, but this is the honest answer.
>>
>>5523148
>>5523148
>say: I do, most days

"The days when you hate me, so most days i honestly hate you all"
>>
>>5523148
>say: I do, most days

God damn papa Clover really is the shittiest dad of all time.

Bends to his wife except in the most minor of ways; loves his bastard son over his trueborn children even though he refuses to treat him as an actual son; neglects his heir and leaves him in the clutches of his wife to become fat and soft instead of a proper Reacher lord, etc etc.

Dude is always losing.

Also I was thinking about the vision thing, and I think the sigil of the Red Hand is a red herring. There is one House that is associated with white trees (weirwoods) Winter, and bloody, red, hands; almost like the hands are flayed. It's Bolton time baby
>>
>>5523148
>say: maybe, sometimes

>mostly when you're at your cruelest
>>
>>5523148
>>say: I do, most days
yeah bitch you suck! (please please please ; D )
>>
>>5523148
>say: I do, most days
The honest answer. Can add something about never having wanted things to be this way or what have you but it's the truth.

Also holy shit, Edric's dad is such a fucking loser.
>>
>>5523148
>say: I do, most days
''But then some days I dont...''

>>5523162
>God damn papa Clover really is the shittiest dad of all time.
This really isn't helping my early paralel to Viserys the first, Edric's mum's death has really fucked him up.

on the prophecy thing it's mentioned Alyssa's uncle has a single weirwood tree and Marissa has explicitly never taken them there for REASONS. I think Alyssa and thus Edric have fallen for the classic issue with prophecies and confused what is literal and what isn't.
>>
Should we ask if she thinks the red hands are ours?
>>
>>5523239
Why would she ask Edric for protection if she thought that?
>>
>>5523148
>>say: I do, most days
>Mostly when you are cruel, which is often. But I wish that would change. And even if it doesn't, you are my sister and I gave you my word to protect you.
>>
>>5523153
>>5523245

Have to say i disagree with that. I think Edric has too much bitterness and anger in him right, at some other point but not now and not here.

Better to get it all out of him and say something like

"I hate you all. You cruel and vicious brat, your mother whos only redeeming quality is her tits, Gareth the spoiled little shit who can do whatever he please with no issue and the twins... Give me a few years i am sure i can find a reason. But the one i hate most of all is father. The spineless cowardly slug, he gives me a riding horse for a melee, then only time he has ever held me he flogged me first. He allowed every evil that could take place to take place. I curse the day my whore of a mother jumped into his bed. I honestly hate you all"
>>
>>5523258
Lmao this is a bit much
>>
>>5523268
Maybe a bit, but i hope its understanable what i mean. Just get everything that is on Edric's chest out
>>
>>5523242
It's less about that and more about opening the can of worms that was the argument in the morning.

>>5523258
Jesus dude I get the hate but thats a lot and I don't think he's worked up like that at the moment.
>>
>>5523258
I agree with you that the both of them are being way too conciliatory but your suggestion is just being an edgelord.
>>
>>5523258
>5523258
there's bitter and then there's this edgelord shit lmao.

Most days I read his hate as one of a passive, simmering thing; from the knowledge of what he *could* have had and doesn't have. It seemed like Alyssa was the one of the family that interacted with him the most, and she did it to fuck with him. So if he hated anyone personally the most it'd probably be either her or her mother.
>>
>>5523185
I think I'm going to change my vote here to a write in since Anon got me thinking that despite the edge a write-in might be the best way to clarify a position everyone likes with Alyssa and our house in general.

I'm thinking something like this though its a bit of a litany
>I hate you somedays when you've set someone on me, I hate you when you enjoy my misery and won't admit it, and I HATE when you'd rather scream bloody murder than tell me why.
>....But I don't think I hate you somedays and I hate others worse.
>I hate your mother more because she hated me since I was born.
>I hate Hobb more because hes a mean cunt.
>I hate your Uncle because he'd drink rather than train me most days.
>I hate Gareth because he's soft and weak.I must admit I kind of feel like this should be cut because we're mostly Apathetic towards him at the moment
>And I hate Father because he says he loves me then lets Hobb beat me.
>>
>>5523341
and of course I'd like suggestions.
>>
>>5523148
>say: I do, most days
>but we’re family and the world is a cruel place, especially if you have to face it alone. That’s a lesson bastards learn early

>>5523258
Can do without the edge anon
>>
>>5523148
>I do, most days.
>But I try not to be unkind. That is the only lesson your mother has, unwittingly, imparted upon me. I would not want to be like her.
>>
>>5523436
Added the second line because we've mostly been an alright guy.
Discussionsabout giving step-mother and step-sister bastards notwithstanding.
>>
>>5523148
>say: maybe, sometimes

Oh fuck those darkstar monologue write-ins lol.
>>
>>5523148
>>5523436
>support
>>
>>5523436
+1
>>
>>5523258
Maybe you need to see a therapist anon.

>>5523148
>say: I do, most days
>>
>>5523148
> say: maybe, sometimes
The rest of the time I pity you. That’s why I help you, even though you hate me.
>>
>>5523436
Changing to this. +1
>>
>>5523148
>>say: I do, most days
>>
>>5523436
>>5523148
+1
>>
>>5523436
This makes us sound like we're twenty rather than thirteen lol.

not that it's bad.
>>
>>5523536
Well with how fucked up everyone except our little brother is, and everything that's happened I forgot Alyssa is 12 and Edric is 13 lol.
>>
>>5523436
Support
The Mother and Maiden tell to not be dick, so we try to hold back.
It's difficult
>>
>>5523555
Munkun does tend to lean into more mature wording.

And honestly I'm waiting for a pin to drop with Gareth he's almost too normal for this family.
>>
>>5523560
He seem to have a huge inferioty complex towards Edric or he is just a spoiled little shit
>>
>>5523562
Probably both
>>
>>5523562
Hmmm not sure
>>
>>5523562
He's an unfortunate combination of spoiled and neglected.

He's left to do whatever he likes for the most part, which is sit around read and get fat. Daddy dearest neglects to actually instruct him in the ways of a Reach lord the way he should his heir, so when he interacts with any other children Gareth gets clowned on for being a loser, which probably just makes him want to retreat further into his books.

I pity him a little bit, if only because he's the result of some shit tier parents.
>>
>>5523594
Well at least he seem to make friends with the bastard gang, the younger members at least so there is still hope for him
>>
>>5523148
Supporting the below
>>5523436
>>
>>5523413
Changing this vote to support this instead >>5523436
>>
>>5523436
I'll support this
>>
>>5523436
+1
>>
>>5523436
support
>>
>>5523622
it'd be nice to raise him up with the bastard gang then tear him down for pure pettiness
>>
Thoughts, but if Alyssa truly is a Greenseer and isn't receiving visions from some other sources (likely not Dragon Dreams as there's no Targ blood from her mother's side and they have a suspicious weirdwood and shit), she should also be a Warg right?

Could also be fucking with her sleep if she randomly goes into some hunting animal or something when she falls asleep instead of actually resting on top of the spooky dreams.
>>
>>5523436
okay, going with this
>>
>>5523980
Not necessarily. Alyssa likely has the greensight like Jojen but is not a greenseer. Think of it like: All greenseers have greensight but not all greensight people are greenseers.
>>
"I do," you said, "I do hate you, most days I hate you more than I can stomach."

"Hmm," she said, "Good. It would be pathetic if you didn't hate me. I'd find you pathetic."

"But I try not to be unkind," you continued, "That's the only lesson your mother ever taught me, even if she didn't meant too. I don't want to be like her."

"Or like me," Alyssa said.

There was silence between you for a while.

"I think I hate you more now," she said, "Treating those you hate with kindness, it makes me sick. I can't be kind to my enemies, and anyone who does is an idiot. I despise idiots. You make me sick, Edric."

Hate is strong armour, you thought. Hate had kept you going when nothing else did. Maybe hatred was Alyssa's armour too.

"I'm so tired," she whimpered. You looked back to see her curled into a ball upon her bedsheets, one tired eye open and staring.

"You've got the wizard's amulet," you said, "Try to sleep. It might work"

"And you'll be here when I wake?"

You nodded.

She whimpered a little and closed her tired eye. "Just need a little sleep," she said. You watched her in the candle light. Watched her until her expression soften, until her lips part on a soft snore. She drooled in her sleep, you discovered.

'Gods how I hate her,' you thought as you watched her sleep, thinking back in exhaustion to just this early morning, the cruelty in her that drove you to fits of violent madness. Grabbing her by the throat, trying to squeeze the life from her. And now you sat at the foot of her bed, protecting her as she slept. At your mercy, completely vulnerable. At the mercy of one she hated and one who hated her, but trusting you all the same to protect her and be there when she woke.

She was a comely girl when she slept, with all the sharp meanness gone from her, softening her face.

An unnatural conflict fought within you. The thought that her lips seemed right for kissing. You looked away from her tender face. How much better hate was than that unnatural feeling. All of it was unnatural. Your hate and your lust. No one should hate their blood as you did. Isn't that what the septons said? To honour all women as reflections of the Maiden, Mother and Crone. To be tender with girls, and love family above all else. To hate your family is to hate the Gods.

But you did hate her. You hated all of them. And how you wished it was only hate, as you loved them too. Even her mother, at least you loved her tits. The thought made you laugh darkly to yourself. More so when the thought of her tits made you harden again and you laughed at how inappropriate it was and how tired you were. Tired of all of it.

Gods you needed sleep...

Your chin sank into your chest and you bowed forward over the sword across your lap.

Sleep, you thought, just need a little sleep...
>>
Pain tore you awake. Steel fingers digging into your neck. You gasped on the pain from that grip, the fingers digging deep. Fear took hold, a fear that stole your voice. A twist of Ser Hobb's hands could snap your neck, faster than you could draw your sword. You looked open into the cleft lip sneer of Ser Hobb, and behind him, standing in front of flickering torch light, Lady Marisa.

She stood on the inside of her daughter's tent, dressed in red with a dark fur stole around her shoulders, the flickering firelight casting dancing shadows across the slopes of her cheeks. Cold wrath and contempt in her green eyes stared down at you.

Alyssa made a sleepy snort, rolling onto her back with a grumble but not yet waking.

"Again," Lady Marisa said, "Again I find you skulking in your sister's tent."

"Little pervert," Ser Hobb hissed.

They kept their voices low.

"A little Dornish viper, looking for a crevasse to slither into," he said. The twitch in Lady Marisa's face said his innuendo had gone too far and he quietened.

Lady Marisa knelt before you, grabbed your chin in her slender soft fingers. She dug those fingers deep, staring you in the eyes.

"If I find you've dared touch her," she said, "There will not be enough left of you to send to the Wall. I will not have it in my House. You will not get away with it. You'll never get away with it. Do you understand me?"

The smell of her breath said she was not wholly sober, though you never knew Lady Marisa to drink. Her lips were so close to your own you could smell the red wine on them.

"I will not let it happen here," she said, fingers stroking the length of your chin, her eyes now closer appearing glassy and pink, "Not to my Alyssa."

Then she released you and rose. "Let him go," she said to Ser Hobb. He let you go. She was unsteady as she left, and Hobb went to help her. There you saw it on his face, when he grabbed her elbow to help steady her, a pathetic love and devotion, and saw it returned in an unconcious moment by Lady Marisa's disgust.

"You will not get away with it," she said as she left, her devoted and despised knight behind her, leaving you alone in the dark of your sister's tent. Alyssa had been too exhausted to rise from the depths of her slumber, and you were left alone in the dark, cold and frightened.
>>
Ayo Hobb is a certified simp. That dude has gotta go lol

would be great to get the chance to "accidentally" neck this man during a joust or something.
>>
So Hobb follows Marisa because he is a massive simp, while she hates him. How can one man can be so worthless?
When is the edge validation backstory going to end and the real deal start? In my opinion it already became boring a while ago.
>>
>>5524054
yeah lmao Edric needs to up and out of this place. what a terrible family. Would much rather the bastard gang go adventuring instead
>>
>Marisa: You won't get away with touching my daughter you dirty bastard!!!
>just leaves him in the tent to stumble off drunk

What did she mean by this??
>>
>>5524054
We have to guide Edric to whatever life precedes his participation in the Rebellion anon, patience
>>
>>5524064
She wants the double D.Dornish Dick
>>
Sleep eluded you the rest of the night. When Alyssa awoke though she seemed truly rested, some of the bruising eased beneath her eyes, her smile long and sleepy.

"No dreams," she told you. Good, you thought with a nod, but half your mind was still on the threats her mother had made. In her still half-asleep state she reached out and stroked your hair with the barest tussle of her fingertips. "You stayed," she said, "Good dog."

You flinched from the touch, knowing how her mother would react if she saw it, and angry as well to be called her dog.

"I owed you after yesterday morning," you said, though knew it was far from the whole reason you'd stayed, "And you're better company when you sleep. I don't need to hear your annoying voice."

"Well get out then while I change," she said, kicking you gently in the back.

You got up, cramped from having slept in a seated position most the night.

You left the tent to find early morning. Ser Hobb was seated outside watching the entrance to the tent, but he had fallen asleep, and he looked cold and dewy from being up all night and outside at that. What terror he had inspired in you once had now lessoned, seeing him more for the fool he was. Still a dangerous fool though.

Tomorrow would be the Squire's Melee. Harry had told you all to spend the day looking for a lady's favour. A man fought harder with a lady's favour, he had said.

You'd yet to claim one, or had one offered, and you thought on who to ask as you sat at the breakfast table with Gareth.

It meant something, a lady's favour. All the stories said so. An expression of love, of devotion, of honour and obligation. And where it lead most often was forbidden trysts between hedge knights and high born ladies, and from there, tragedy.

Those were the stories at least. The rumours you'd heard was the tryst part was true, if their champion succeeded the knight would be well rewarded by even a woman married, and her cuckold of a husband might turn a blind eye for the sake of the codes of chivalry. But as much it was done to protect a noble lady from shame and embarassment, such as what the Dragon Knight had done for Queen Naerys when King Aegon had sought to shame her.

But you were a squire, not a knight, and the affairs of squires were considered wholly less serious. You knew few enough ladies to ask, few well at least.

>you could ask Linette Flowers for her favour, it would be a favour worth wearing
>you didn't know her well, but Tabitha Grimm seemed to like you
>Jocelyn Florent was of good birth, ask for for her favour
>a wild idea, ask Catling Storm for her favour even as you fought her
>do as the Dragon Kinight had done, ask for your sister's favour
>>
>>5524072
>you could ask Linette Flowers for her favour, it would be a favour worth wearing

A nice girl that Edric has actually interacted with and treats him well
>>
>>5524068
But if I try to be patient while also being bored I'm going to fall asleep.
>>5524072
>you could ask Linette Flowers for her favour, it would be a favour worth wearing
She's nice
>>
>>5524072
>>a wild idea, ask Catling Storm for her favour even as you fought her
LETS GO BABY! RIDE THE TEMPEST!
>>
(we're almost done with Highgarden, though there's still a bit to go before the first time skip)
>>
>>5524072
>a wild idea, ask Catling Storm for her favour even as you fought her

MAY HER WARRIOR SPIRIT INVIGORATE US ON THE BATTLEFIELD
>>
>>5524072
>>do as the Dragon Kinight had done, ask for your sister's favour
lol
lmao
>>
(also for real Linette is probably already spoken for by one of the other bastards since she is pretty and kind; Jocelyn seemed like kind of a snob and Tabitha we don't know well at all)
>>
>>5524072
>you could ask Linette Flowers for her favour, it would be a favour worth wearing


>>5524043
>"I will not let it happen here," she said, fingers stroking the length of your chin, her eyes now closer appearing glassy and pink, "Not to my Alyssa."
I think I get it, now. She was abused/harassed by her brother who is now the lord of House Redlark, this is why they do not visit him.
>>
>>5524072
>a wild idea, ask Catling Storm for her favour even as you fought her
based
>>
>>5524072
>you could ask Linette Flowers for her favour, it would be a favour worth wearing
>>
>>5524072
>you could ask Linette Flowers for her favour, it would be a favour worth wearing
I like her, she makes Edric happy
>>
The good ol' 'girl is nice to a boy and the boy falls in love' trope
>>
Get the feeling Catling will laugh in his face if he ask her. She also doesnt strike me as a girl who even has a favour
>>
>>5524072 #
>a wild idea, ask Catling Storm for her favour even as you fought her
>>
>>5524099
I think she'd get a kick out of it and make one up on the spot desu.
>>
>>5524072
>do as the Dragon Kinight had done, ask for your sister's favour
Primary and only if we can do so quietly, though I'll welcome an argument against it since I don't know if I can see Edric doing it without being out of inebriated or out of sorts.
>you could ask Linette Flowers for her favour, it would be a favour worth wearing
I suspect someone read Harry hill beat us to the punch here but if it gets a rise out of Alyssa its worth it.

And goddamn Hobb is a complete simp no wonder he hates us, at least we can have a good comeback next time he shits on us.
>Your mother was a whore edric
>lmao your waifu cucks you Hobb

Also laying hands on Alyssa should be on the table since she's keep trash talking our sympathy even though she keeps accepting it.


>>5524086
Hey I'm glad I'm not the only one who's thinking that's why their Uncle is out of the picture.
>>
>>5524072
>you could ask Linette Flowers for her favour, it would be a favour worth wearing

Storm would just laugh in our face and we don’t even find her that attractive (beyond those Targ eyes)

>>5524043
>"I will not let it happen here,"
Sooo…she was raped by a sibling as a young girl?
>>
>>5524072
>you could ask Linette Flowers for her favour, it would be a favour worth wearing
>>
>>5524072
Damn. I wanna go for either Tabitha or Jocelyn, but since the current toss up is literally everyone but them.

>a wild idea, ask Catling Storm for her favour even as you fought her
Best case scenario, we earn our boy a one-time stand and he actually learns the 7+ Kisses the girls say he should know.
>>
>>5524072
>a wild idea, ask Catling Storm for her favour even as you fought her
I don't really care who wins but you guys are really setting yourself up for disappointment with that Linette vote.
>>
>>5524074
>>5524075
>>5524086
>>5524090
>>5524091
>>5524119
Linette

>>5524146
>>5524130
>>5524088
>>5524081
>>5524077
Catling

asking Linette wins
>>
>>5524146
Its fine, we got Alyssa as backup and even if that doesnt turn out it is not the end of the world
>>
>>5524166
I'd sooner vote for Hobb than for Alyssa but you are right. I am here to hit people with a sword regardless of any favours.
>>
Kind of wish I'd fleshed out Tabitha Grimm and Jocelyn Florent a bit more before this vote, but there are only so many hours in the day
>>
>>5524172
You can always do it now, let us know what we're missing out on.
>>
>>5524166
meh first preferences aside I can agree its not the end of the world even if Edric thinks it is.

And hey Linette is older crush material.

>>5524172
To be fair most peoples attention hasn't been on them, you can still do it though.
>>
>>5524180
>>5524174
Hell if the Grimm girl offer us her favour after Linette rejects us i say we take it just for the fact she put herself out there and took a chance
>>
>>5524174
>>5524180
nah its fine
>>
>>5524172
We can encourage Gareth to ask one of them
>>
>>5524185
That would be pretty embarrassing for all parties involved
>>
>>5524181
pssh I'd rather Alyssa's but a nice idea, heck if Edric's rejected I can see him being Moody enough to try Alyssa's.

>>5524185
Oh I like this a little confidence boost is something I can see Gareth needing.
>>
I thought the Grimm girl would be expanded on because there was a rumour that we would be sent to the Shield islands to marry some girl, possibly her.

We also have a fate point that we never spent, might be useful in the upcoming melee.
>>
>>5524192
Think it was just something Alyssa said to project her anger that she had to marry the Tarly boy
>>
>>5524192
>we would be sent to the Shield islands to marry some girl, possibly her.
If this turns out to be true and her family treats Edric decent I'd welcome it.
>>
>>5524205
>the daughter of Lord Grimm was Tabitha. It was Tabitha poured you your next cup, and smiled in a way you weren't used to girls smiling at you.

She does seem to be interested
>>
>>5524192
>>5524207
Nice catch, maybe their is talk afterall though I wonder how serious it is given we're a bastard.
>>
>>5524192
Where did we get a fate point?
I thought this whole thing was only very loosely based on the actual Fire and Ice system based on how it's formatted.
>>
>>5524241
When anon helped Munk come up with the combat system >>5498494
>>
>>5524241 here:

>>5498494
>and to show my appreciation for you guys digging up that stuff, I'm going to give you a fate point
>if there's a roll or a combat, or a particular interaction you want to go a certain way, you can spend your fate point to have it work out for Edric.
Would be useful in the melee if we're losing.
>>
>>5498494
Oh shit.

>>5524244
>>5524248
Good looks fellas
And great restraint not using it yet.
Frankly, unless we're at risk of absolutely embarrassing our boy, I suggest we don't use it in the melee either.
Methinks all the REALLY troubling stuff may come afterward.
>>
>>5524252
Nobody listened to my suggestion for using the fate point for lewding Alyssa :-(
>>
>>5524252
I mean there was nothing to use it on yet. Could use it while training but why. That stuff doesn't really matter.
I will vote to use it in melee if we are losing though. I want to at least make it into the final 3.
>>
>>5524258
I would consider being top 16 as a win but if we are losing badly i would also use it
>>
>>5524256
most people including myself are more than little icky about that and personally if that ends up the case I want us to be older.

>>5524252
I am hoping we get to use it for something awesome in the melee.
>>
Linette Flowers had always been nice to you. More than nice, she was welcoming and kind, and smelled like fresh cut roses...

Doubtless there'd be more than one boy asking for her favour. If you wanted it you would have to ask early. She worked in the kitchens in Highgarden's castle, under the supervision of her mother. If you went now...

You finished the pottage you'd had for breakfast, went to a wash basin to clean and change. You trimmed off the soft black whiskers on your chin with the sharp end of your knife. You checked your tunic and your sword belt to make sure they were neat, then did the same for your hair. Though, mayhap she liked a more roguish look? You mussed the hair some, though not over much. You should bring a gift, mayhaps. Or not. You had nothing to give, not even a Name. You had nought to you but your word and your swordarm.

Hell, you were wasting time fussing, doubtless a rival was already hotspurring to her as you dawdled.

Taking your leave you saddled Chestnut. It wasn't often you visited a maiden. In fact it was never. But a knight must be bold about such things.

You didn't gallop but went at a fast gait through the tourney camp.

Someone sang 'The Maids the Bloom in Spring' as you rode by and you blushed, thinking of Linette.

Whatever strange feelings you had for your sister, she was not the only girl in the world. Neither was Linette. You liked all the girls you had met out here, at least in looks. Jocelyn Florent had a sweet face between her large ears, and Tabitha Grimm was a girl already curvy, though you thought Linette put both to shame. And there was Catling, who hid her prettiness behind armour of steel and rough manners.

The golden roses of Highgarden, blooming in the fields, couldn't help but make you think of Linette, likewise the gold flower of House Tyrell upon the banners waving from the tall white walls of Highgarden.

You had yet to ride within the walls of the castle town and when you did you found it somehow greener than the land outside. From the first wall you rode through a labyrinth of briars, currently green and beset with flowers, but with long sharp thorns hidden behind green leaves. It was a maze took you to the even taller second wall. Some others rode through, or breakfasted in the few open spaces of the briar maze.

The second wall was even taller than the first, a great portcullis gate manned by Tyrell soldiers in handsome suits of mail and tall, crested helms.
>>
Beyond the second wall climbing vines crawled across most stone work, errupting with blossoming flowers, with broad leafy trees to shade the stone boulevards. Each house had a well kept hedge, and despite the growing greenery at every turn, the streets themselves were kept free of weeds. Chestnut clopped up a gentle slope through the town to the last of the three walls, past large green spaces separating handsome houses, with great stands of trees creating groves, hosting chattering birdlife that dipped to cool themselves in the water of bubbling fountains decorated with statues of river girls dancing half naked, so delicately carved they seemed almost alive.

In the distance you saw the seven spires of a great sept. The sept's peaks were taller than the tower of Rose Hall, as tall as the second wall itself. Its crystal windows shone with a rainbow shimmer, its walls the matching white of the castle stone that if you didn't have evidence of your eyes you might think it was the great castle of Highgarden.

But that lay behind the third and greatest wall, the open gate manned by knights of the Reach, forgoing the honour of the tourney for the honour of guarding Lord Tyrell's home.

The red spider of House Webber and the silver otter of House Varner, sons of lords with soldiers in their own House colours. They were at their post in early hours, and did not stop you as you passed.

And behind the great third wall of Highgarden was Castle Highgarden itself. Even here there were great stands of trees, paths weaving between the trunks of oaks and pines toward the castle gates. Music came through the trees and the laughter of young maidens. A magpie sang above your head as squirrels warred among the branches.

It wouldn't shock you if a unicorn would step out from behind one of those great oak trees. It only hardened your romantic resolve.

Up the narrow lane you rode, to find soldiers dicing at the Highgarden gate.

"I'm looking for the kitchens," you said.

"I'm looking for your mother's fat tits, Dornish boy," the soldier said to the laughter of his friends. "Dornish bitches wet themselves for Reach steel. A good six inches fixes their accent real quick."

Rage near flushed your cheeks, you near drew your sword.

"Easy Joss," a voice from with. Timmet stepped out. "We're at peace with Dorne now, or will be once Prince Martell weds our king's sister."

"Aye Timmy, and the Gods curse King Daeron for it," the soldier Joss said, spitting.

"Didn't know you were a Septon to speak for the gods," he said, "This is a friend of mine, Edric Flowers. Son of Garlan Clover. Lord Garlan Clover, of the Rose Hall." That shut Joss' mouth, and he dipped his head, mumbling an apology. "Hey Ned, let me see to your horse. I think I know why you're here."
>>
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He winked when you dismounted, cuffed your shoulder to send you on in. "Down the hall to the left," he said, "Hurry, you aren't the first this morning!"

You hurried then, not even bothering to take in the great tapestries on the wall, most of them depicting Reachmen slaying Dornish warriors.

The smell guided you as much as anything else, the aroma of baking bread and pastries took you on a left turn and down a short flight of stairs.
You choked back a nervous lump and ignored the fluttering in your belly. It was foolish to think Linette, a girl of ten and five, would save her favour for a bastard squire when doubtless she had annointed knights come to call on her. But you didn't run from fear or doubt. You shouldered through into the noisy kitchen.

And were greeted by the sight of a tall strong blonde woman, the image of her daughter, standing with hands on hips overseeing the scullery maids with a knight's cool authority. If Linette was pretty, this woman was beautiful even past forty. She had her golden locks covered by a scarf, pulled back from a face that was at once both fine and strong, like the dancing stone sculptures outside. Bright blue eyes and cheeks with a natural rose bloom upon them, with a womanly body hidden beneath humble kitchen clothes, her apron failing to hide her figure but instead some how flattering it.

You had thought Lady Marisa the most beautiful woman in the Reach. This kitchen maid of Highgarden was at least her match.

A woman who had bespelled a knight to forswear marriage and live in sin, the so called 'Unwed Ned' of House Vyrwell.

"Another one?" her voice was as crisp and hard as the clink of the plates in the wash basin, "Mother give me strength and Maiden spare my daughter. LINETTE! YOU HAVE ANOTHER ONE! Lazy girl. And what's your name then?"

"E-Edric," you managed, "Edric Flowers."

She looked you over. "You've a better look than the last two at least, even if its a Dornish look. Though I suppose the Dornish are our friends now. LINETTE, COME GET THIS EDRIC OUT OF MY KITCHEN!"

You heard then a sudden burst of running, that slowed only at the doorstep, and Linette walked out dressed much as her mother, in white apron and head scarf.

"Edric!" Linette said, pink in her cheeks, "What brings you to the kitchen?"

"What do you think?" her mother said, "You put out a stink like a cat in heat, and I have wrangle the tomcats come sniffing around."

"Mother!" Linette said, blushing greatly. "Come, Edric, let's speak elsewhere."

She took your arm and took you out of the thoroughfare of the kitchen. Her hands were soft and warm. She smelled of soap and oils, her cheeks bright as if she were recently from a bath. As she walked you out her hand slid over yours and she smiled. How dark your skin was next to her own.

"Did you want something?" she asked.
>>
"Something others have asked for I think," you mumbled, less certain now of your chances. A maide could only have one favour to give.

"Oh?" she said.

"I thought...for the melee tomorrow...I might carry your favour," you said.

She took a breath. "Oh well that's what I thought," she said, "You know Ser Nyles of House Rowan was here earlier asking the same. As was Ser Fossoway. Even Catling asked. I was sorry to refuse them."

Refuse them. "You must be saving your favour for another," you said, deflated, "Of course, why wouldn't you? Is it Harry? I can't blame you. Harry is a-"

"I was saving my favour for someone, and it isn't for Harry," she interjected. She stared at you a moment, just a little taller than you. Then with colour darker in her cheeks, said, "Well, well you have not actually asked me."

"Ah," you said, your heart suddenly at a gallop, "Um...well, will you? Grant me your favour."

She swallowed and reached behind her apron. She took a green scarf. It wasn't real silk, but it was soft. She tied it around your neck, patting it neatly into the front of your tunic.

When she was done her grin was bright pink and awkward. "Yes," she said, "Yes, I will."

Coughing you tugged at the scarf wrapped around your neck. She bit her bottom lip with a sudden fluster.

"I have to get back to work," she said, "But I'll see you, tomorrow. Watch you. Um."

"Yeah," you said, "I'll see you."

Then before she left though she put a peck of a kiss on your cheek, and blushing fled back into the kitchen, leaving you be in the hall of Castle Highgarden.

Uh. You weren't sure what to do now.

>return to the Clover camp and rest until tomorrow
>enjoy the tourney a little, wander its grounds
>mayhap now was time to find the wizard Chiswell

(back tomorrow)
>>
>>5524272
>>mayhap now was time to find the wizard Chiswell
>>
>>5524272
>mayhap now was time to find the wizard Chiswell

Holy shit. Edric did it. My man, i guess we can see what the wizard is about. Dont want to go around the grounds, thats like asking for a fight and not up for resting at the camp either
>>
>>5524272
We should really try to get some rest. I have a feeling if we're about to find Chiswell at all, it'll only lead to another night of bad sleep.
....buuuuuuuuuuuuuut
>mayhap now was time to find the wizard Chiswell
>>
(all of them would have said yes btw, including catling)
>>
>>5524282
Man, Edric must be really good looking.
>>
>>5524282
If that's the case we should have gone with Catling.
Edric has the rizz, but lacks experience.
Catling would have set him straight.
>>
Edric gets +5 to combat strength for that favour i am sure of it and good grief Linette is a popular girl, feel sorry for her mother, boys will probably appear constantly throughout the day
>>
>>5524282
>all of them would have said yes btw, including catling
Aaarrrgghhh why didn't we pick Alyssa reeee

>>5524270
>As she walked you out her hand slid over yours and she smiled. How dark your skin was next to her own.
This entire quest is an elaborate BLACKED shitpost kek
>>
>>5524272
>mayhap now was time to find the wizard Chiswell
MASSIVE W FOR OUR BOY

>>5524285
>Handsome, sun-kissed, extremely fit, uber-masculine, definite bad-boy aura
Makes sense desu, protagonist favor set aside
>>
>>5524272
>return to the Clover camp and rest until tomorrow

Gloat at Alyssa since we have Favor, also goddamn Linette has a healthy home life no wonder she's so bloody kind.

>>5524282
>Could have had Alyssa's favor pro bono
>Could have had a pass to learn the kisses from Cat
FUCK
>>
>>5524295
Nah, we look more spanish than anything really. Bet Edric will grow up to be a typical ruggedly handsome spainard
>>
>>5524298
>>Could have had Alyssa's favor pro bono
>>Could have had a pass to learn the kisses from Cat
But a knight is sworn to valour. *sigh*
>>
>>5524272
>mayhap now was time to find the wizard Chiswell

>>5524282
Now I'm sad.
>>
>>5524303
Hey at least its not spaghetti town Seriously come the fuck on Emille don't screw it up down the line
>>
>>5524272
>mayhap now was time to find the wizard Chiswell

>>5524282
Too dangerous to ask Alyssa with psycho Mum lurking, I was torn between Catling and Linette, happy with either though desu.
>>
>>5524314
>Too dangerous to ask Alyssa with psycho Mum lurking

Mums probably hungover and thats why you do it in secret.
>>
Boys, I think it's time we abandon the Alyssa pathway. Helping her is nice, and we may eventually come to be friendly given she goes through some massive changes. She is by far the least healthy path for Edric though, not even considering incest.
>>
>>5524317
Nah, i want my secret lover route. Cuckold that Tarly cunt bastard.
>>
>>5524319
>Alyssa has Edric's bastard
>The boy comes out brown as his father.
What then?
Edric is not pullin a Jamie/Cersei arrangement any time soon if that was what you're thinking.
>>
>>5524317
I was never on her route to begin with lmao. Anons like their memes but as for me I would much prefer a marriage that would give us some measure of power.
I would be so much nicer to show up for the rebellion with a few hundred soldiers than as a lone knight.
>>
(going to point out you'll be following Edric through multiple stages of his life, he can potentially have multiple lovers. he can cheat, be unfaithful, or just never settle down.)

(no route locking in this quest)
>>
>>5524330
Edric is not that brown, he looks more salt dornish. the children would only be quarter dornish and if they take after Edric they can just pass it off as the children looking like their maternal grandfather
>>
>>5524317
If your worried about the Healthiness of the relationship the most recent interactions have been a very positive gain in that respect even if she calls us a dog, they've both been honest and fairly vulnerable to each other which is a bit of a miracle considering the utter mess this family is.

Right now I honestly think she's one of the only reasons Edric MIGHT stick around and honestly I could see these two having one of the healthier relationship within the family obvious exclusion to incest aside.

>>5524330
There is a reason tancy tea exists and hey there is always running away together though personally I want to see that bethrothal broken up if we go for her.

Imagine Edric siding with Blackfyre on the basis of being allowed to marry her if they won.
>>
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>>5524333
If you want to take a lead from Sworn to Valor here's how Forgotten uses the Favor as equipment, the hidden mechanic only becomes evident if its carried forward into a more serious commitment as per 2.
>>
>>5524272
>mayhap now was time to find the wizard Chiswell
>>
>>5524272
So happy for Edric after all the beatings he has taken throughout his life. This whole chapter was so wholesome. I hope he can stay in touch with Linette and we can abandon the whole incest thing.
>Mayhap it was time to find the wizard Chiswell
>>
>>5524333
Myself, I would like to see our boy completely upend the whole place on its head rather than just become some lord or knight and follow along with the story.

Since, as per these
>>5523436
>>5524042
we are Naruto anyways
I realized that after making the suggestion lmao
>>
So what is the goal with Chiswell since you all seem set on it?
Fortune told?
Magic questions?
>>
>>5524272
>mayhap now was time to find the wizard Chiswell
>>
>>5524468
>"Yo wizard man what are my chances of getting in some sisterussy action noimsayin'?"
>>
>>5524272
>>mayhap now was time to find the wizard Chiswell
>>
>>5524468
Jokes aside, this is a serious question. What are we actually asking the wizard? I think we might not be able to even pay his fee for getting the future told. Alyssa paid 3 silvers and Edric thought that was a big sum, no way we can pay the same price.
>>
>>5524468
My two cents:

Choosing the wizard is the most interesting option. We already had a couple of angsty teenage love/hate scenes. Choosing this gives the OP a chance to explain more about magic and foreshadow future events (if they want to).

As for what we’d ask for, I’d suggest both a fortune telling AND a boon (since for 3 silver the wizard gave our sister a fortune and an amulet that we assume works). Let’s bargain. Or give our eye colour/earliest memory/etc as payment

Regarding fortune; we don’t want to know about marriage or potential kids, we want to know if/how we can perform a “great deed” (like slaying a giant) and get landed. Are we destined for glory? Tie it back to the convo we had with the girls about what we want in life
>>
>>5524483
>no way we can pay the same price.
well I mean their is always the supreme authority of violence though that might be undiplomatic to some anon's taste, the man wanted nothing to do with her after what happened so I don't know if things are going to go well if we try another method.

It's also occured to me he might have also blazed out of town after how spooked he got.

as for questions
>What do you know of my sisters troubles
>What do you THINK of my sisters troubles
>What is my fate (Include the knuckles dice stuff)

Feel like we should throw in something like Tansy tea.

>>5524484
Don't know if he takes downpayments since he basically scoffed at blood magic, I do like the fortune stuff though I suspect it plays into the obvious bluff he could tell.
>>
>>5524272
>enjoy the tourney a little, wander its grounds

I have a feeling the wizard doesn’t want much to do with us after Alyssa’s incident. Let’s try to destress before the melee
>>
>>5524543
+1 I don't think there's anything worthwhile to be gained from the wizard with no money to pay him and his attitude already hostile.
>>
>>5524543
I'll change my vote >>5524298
to support this since I doubt Chiswell will actually not want anything to do with us.
>>
>>5524272
>mayhap now was time to find the wizard Chiswell
>>5524317
I never was on her path to begin with
>>
>>5524607
Changing my vote to
>enjoy the tourney a little, wander its grounds
>>
>>5524543
Supporting this
>>
>>5524272
>mayhap now was time to find the wizard Chiswell
>>
>>5524543
>>5524468
>>5524278
Even though we hate our sister we don't want her to get Renly'd by a shadow monster on our watch.
>>
>>5524270
Changing
>>5524314
to
>enjoy the tourney a little, wander its grounds
>>
>>5524272
>mayhap now was time to find the wizard Chiswell
>>5525222
Why are you changing someone else's vote?
>>
>>5525252
what's worse is he didn't even vote in the first place.
>>
>>5525265
I wonder if he wanted to do it with a fresh ID but forgot to change it.
>>
>>5524272
Changing
>>5525222
to
>mayhap now was time to find the wizard Chiswell
>>
>>5525312
Talk about fickle lol.
>>
>>5525335
Sorry about being indecisive :^)
>>
pretty sure even with whatever was going on around there with IPs the wizard vote still wins.

if you change your vote and notice your IP has changed, either because you're on your phone or your connection has a dynamic IP, please say so and link back to it. I'm trusting people here not to fuck with the voting pattern and other people's votes, because the more things get confusing the harder it is to run this quest.

I'm not going to discount single vote IPs because keeping track of that stuff is more work than I want to do, this is only for changing your vote when there's been a change in your IP.
>>
I haven't been feeling well today. I'll try to get this update out.
>>
>>5525336
You do you anon

>>5525357
Samefag delenda est
>>
>>5525359
wishing you a quick and pleasant recovery sex man!
>>
>>5525359
Be well Munkun
>>
Get the feel that Linette's mother will have asked the seneschal to position guards at the kitchen to keep the small horde of young men and squires out
>>
Riding back through the fairground on Chestnut, you whistled along to a troubadour singing a silly children's song to a gaggle of young children. It was a song meant to teach children the Seven and what each one stood for, and that all were One as well. Every Reach child knew it. You'd never really understood how that worked until the castle septon had explained it to you by holding up his crystal and saying 'though this crystal has seven different surfaces, it's still a single crystal, no?'

Not that anyone treated them like that. The idea that the Maiden and the Warrior were one and the same, when the Warrior charged men to protect women as he protected the Maiden, it didn't really make sense. Though it made you think on Catling Storm, who was Warrior and Maiden all at once, or your brother Gareth who was no sort of Warrior at all.

You'd never make it as a septon, you decided.

A dwarf in fool's motley shook his stick from the back of his cart at you.

"Look, a Dornishman! Will our good King Daeron whore another sister to this young fellow? The Red Keep puts the Street of Silk to shame, he pimps good pure Valyrian girls for fair ground prices!"

No words the dwarf would dare speak in King's Landing. Some watching knights laughed though.

It soured your mood some, to be singled out again. And your sour mood put your thoughts back to the dark events of the last few weeks. For all you wore Linette's favour, your thoughts weren't far from Alyssa.

The hedge wizard Chiswell had given her no answers. He'd thrown her out with some trinket meant to do what you weren't sure, gripped by some strange dread. Perhaps he would answer your questions if you caught him alone.

Not that you had too clear idea where he camped. You had followed Alyssa, not led the way. You asked a smallfolk man if he knew of the Wizard Chiswell but he shook his head. You grunted, continuing to ask around as the camp grounds grew rougher and more familiar.

The mossy tent was gone where you had found it.

"He left this morning before dawn," said a lump faced peasant woman, "Gone up the Roseroad to the crownlands. Left in a fright. He still owed my sister a poltice for her cut wrist. If you go quick you may catch him before the day is out."

It wasn't the news you wanted to hear, but it disturbed you that he'd fled. Your sister was a brat, not some dread witch to inspire such fear. A mad brat, maybe. You didn't know the source or meaning of the things she saw. If Chiswell had some clue, and it had inspired him to flee...

The noon day sun felt cold of a sudden as you shuddered.

A maester would say it was all superstitious nonsense. A septon would say it was devilry of the seven hells. You didn't know what to think on it, other than it worried you, and distracted you from the melee. You should be resting or training, not chasing after phantoms.

Defeated you turned to go back the way you'd come.

And there they came up the other way, and you knew they had followed you.
>>
Gormon Peake and the Sams Tarly.

You frowned and put a hand on your sword. They had been warned about this.

"You thought you were pretty fucking clever, bastard boy," Gormon said, "Hiding behind your goodmother's skirts."

"That's the Dornish for you," Samwyle said as Alyssa's betrothed laughed, "Hiding up skirts, when they aren't wearing them."

"You're going to look stupid tomorrow face down in the mud," the Peake boy said, "Looking up at me with my tongue down your sister's throat." For all Samwyck was her betrothed, he laughed along with his brother. "I'll do more than kiss the little slut too. I'm going to have that Clover bitch gagging on me."

"That's my betrothed you're talking about!" Samwyck said with a giggle.

"Don't worry Sam, I'll leave you her maidenhead, I'll just have fun with everything else."

To that both Sams laughed.

Rage flushed your cheeks. You were astride a horse, they were not, and it was all just talk. Still, you gripped the hilt of your sword, knuckles white with anger.

"Last time we fought it was you needed carrying from the mud," you said down to the Peake boy.

You expected a snarl but instead got a bitter grin. "That's why we're going to take precautions for tomorrow," he said.

Precautions was the word. They sprung up from behind the tent, grabbing Chestnut's bridle. A pair of Bulwer squires and a squire of House Crane. The Bulwer boys grabbed for you while the Crane had your horse.

"Shit," you hissed, drawing at your sword as they pulled you down.

"I'm only going to break your arm," Gormon Peake promised as the Bulwer boys wrestled with your thrashing arms. But even as they got you from your horse, they didn't have you. You freed an arm and swung a fist to bloody the nose of one boy, forcing them to release you.

Stepping back then, you drew your sword with a deadly hiss, the point in front of you as you backed away. You tried to control your bolt of panic as thesix boys surrounded you.

"See this?" Gormon Peake drew his sword. The metal was like none you'd seen, it rippled like water, the sharp edge catching the sun. "Orphan-Maker, I borrowed it from my uncle. Valyrian steel. Have you ever seen Valyrian steel before? I'd put your sword down if I was you, and take your punishment."

"Lady Marisa warned you," you said, not to Gormon but the Sams, "She warned you what would happen."

"Lady Clover can dangle off my balls," Samwyle said, "And the Rose Hall is a shithole, Father says House Clover's nothing but glorified landed knights anyway."

"Easy Sam, that'll be my shithole some day," Samwyck said.

"Put up your sword, bastard," Peake said, "Don't make me hurt you more than I have to."

>seven hells, you wouldn't lie down without a fight
>this was not a fight you could win, find an opening and flee
>sheathe your sword and let him do as he wished
>>
(sorry this took so long, fighting a stomach bug)

(the update after this vote will be the last one before the new thread)
>>
>>5525463
>>seven hells, you wouldn't lie down without a fight
No way I am leaving the horse or letting them break Edric's arm
>>
>>5525463
Even if we win we’ll get blamed. We’ve been down this road before.

>this was not a fight you could win, find an opening and flee
>>
>>5525463
>seven hells, you wouldn't lie down without a fight

I dont like it, but i dont think we can get away, if we can end it quickly or drag the fight out enough to cause a big enough mess that people will come and stop it. We still got that fate point in worst case scenario

>>5525477
Nah. This is different. This is a attempted murder, not a squabble between boys
>>
>>5525463
>>seven hells, you wouldn't lie down without a fight
We'll be taking that sword, one way or another.
>>
>>5525463
>Peake throwing down with the rapist energy
>Samwyck basically not giving a shit & claiming rosehall
Well this is some shit even with all our black anger this is some peak rapist energy with Peake and Tarly, if we fail any solution he breaks an arm or takes worse though and personally I don't know if I see a way out without fighting.

Fuck him its almost worth spending the fate point to win this fight.

>seven hells, you wouldn't lie down without a fight
''what you need a fancy sword and your thugs to break it? you're a shit covered craven if I ever saw one''

>>5525477
We will but we have avenues to escape the worst of it, we were ambushed, Peake wanted blood and both he and Samwyck basically trashed threatened Alyssa with some form of rape.

I mean seriously once the truth is out even Marissa would have a hard time faulting us for fighting.

>>5525483
I like the idea of either ransoming it or claiming it as a spoil the cunt has it coming.
>>
>>5525464
don't sweat it and look after yourself, posting on a Tyroshi textile forum can wait.
>>
>>5525463
>this was not a fight you could win, find an opening and flee
The smart option.
Remember what was said about choosing our battles better.
6 one 1 with a fucker with a Val Sword ain't gonna go well.
>>
>>5525498
We wont be able to outrun them, they got our horse
>>
>>5525463
>seven hells, you wouldn't lie down without a fight
>>
>>5525463
>I'll do more than kiss the little slut too.
Huh someone's been talking about our little contest to Peake.
>>
and now that I think about it I think I know who it was
>"He'll be Lord of Starpike one day," Jocelyn Florent said, alone in not laughing.
>>
>>5525463
>this was not a fight you could win, find an opening and flee
Anons, we have absolutely no shot in a 6 v 1 with a severe equipment disadvantage. Edric isn't the First Sword of Braavos.
>>
>>5525519
I would vote for running away if i believed we could get away.
>>
>>5525519
There are three people holding us and our Horses bridle our chances aren't much better particularly if we can't quickly get away and the Tarly boys pile on us.
>>
>>5525520
I would vote for fighting if I believed he had a shot at surviving w/o an asspull. Edric's a fit and fast lad.
>>
>>5525522
Heres praying that the bastard gang is nearby or someone else who is important can break it up
>>
>>5525521
>You freed an arm and swung a fist to bloody the nose of one boy, forcing them to release you.
Not held

>You tried to control your bolt of panic as thesix boys surrounded you.
Surrounded. You can't defend yourself on all sides.
>>
>>5525522
You will not outrun a horse
>>
>>5525525
point, though I still don't like our odds surrounded for escaping though.
>>
>>5525463
>seven hells, you wouldn't lie down without a fight
>>
Hang on now that I think about it, we are ahorse and they aren't and we've just freed ourselves if we got Chestnut to lash out as well as fight this kids are going to either get majorly hurt to even the odds or break particularly if we start trading steel with peake.
>>
>>5525531
They pulled us off the horse. Not sure how good Chestnut is in a fight, it might do some good if they scare it enough that it will attack them
>>
>>5525531
We aren't on a horse
>>
>>5525527
None of them are on horseback? I suppose one of them could mount Chestnut, but riding an unfamiliar horse is (even a relatively tame gelding) not trivial.
>>
>>5525535
Chestnut is a gelded horse
Those are pretty obedient
I like my chances with a sword better
>>
>>5525532
>>5525533
Man my reading comprehension has really gone to shit then, if thats the case then prehaps we could set chestnut off in a panic and see if that can't at least disrupt them long enough to even the odds.

At this point I'm just spitballing though.
>>
>>5525463
>seven hells, you wouldn't lie down without a fight

Any other ideas anons? like this:
>charge the weakest link, break out of the circle, fighting retreat
or
>get to chestnut, try to make him run or kick
or
>maneuver between the tents, keep them single file
>>
>>5525519
>>5525498
>>5525477
What the fuck are you going to do at tomorrow's melee without a horse? Ride your own cock?
>>5525541
>>maneuver between the tents, keep them single file
This seems sensible. Once one or two of them go down they will hopefully fuck off.
These aren't trained knights ready to sacrifice their lives to get Edric these are just squires.
>>
>>5525542
Oh yeah, i would gladly have Edric fighting smart
>>
>>5525542
If this fight is statistically fair as the previous ones were, Edric won't be competing on account of being dead/crippled.

Also,
>Implying they can just steal Edric's horse without retaliation.

Whatever. You want to try and have an armed and surrounded teen fight off six other armed teenagers, be my guest. I wouldn't mind a second chargen.
>>
>>5525541
>>5525542
The only way we can hope to win is by playing to their flaws

The three lackies will probably fuck off once blood gets drawn by us but I doubt the Tarlys or Peake will, however Samwyck's a brutish fool from what I can gather so setting the horse off on him or otherwise outplaying him in the psych department, Samwyle's a little trickier, Peake thinks he's hotshit with Orphan maker and is out for blood so once it down he'll be aggressive trying to push his advantage And thats when we kick him in the balls so hard we all but castrate the little rapist
>>
>>5525550
>>Implying they can just steal Edric's horse without retaliation.
Who is going to stop them? Edric's dad has no spine and Marisa is eager to avoid conflict with Peaks.
If we lose the horse now there is no tournament for us. I'd rather test our luck especially considering we have that fate point.
>>
>>5525558
To be fair to anon in this though I agree fighting is preferable, Dad was full of fury after he had to lash us the first time enough to rage about trading lances with Ser peake, If the contents of what was said by the Peake and Tarly boys here comes to light I don't think either Marissa or Dad would be willing to back off from their anger, breaking our arm is one thing but also threatening to explicitly rape our sister and degrade her AND take our houses lands is another thing.
>>
>>5525500
>>5525542

I feel like you guys aren't thinking more than two steps ahead.

Worst case scenario, Edric escapes, is down a horse, and can't go to the melee if we run. Sucks shit, but at least he's fine and can bitterly fight another day.
Best case scenario is that we get this shit worked out with Edric's folks. Maybe his father lets him use a different, better horse after he grows a pair and demands it/some other payment back after this incident.

Worst case scenario for fighting is that the boy fucking dies or more likely gets horribly maimed.
Best case scenario is that someone finds us before Edric dies or gets maimed but he's still beaten bloody, because winning 6 on 1 isn't a fight that can be won unless Munkun is being VERY generous with the Fate point.
Ok, that's not fair, best case scenario is that we somehow ace every roll, they fuck up every roll, and Edric comes out the other end already worthy of a knighthood.
But I highly doubt the dice gods love us enough to make that happen.

There's also, the VERY real possibility that Edric kills one of these shit stains defending himself.
Which is a whole bag of political worms we don't wanna deal with. If Edric is even alive to see the aftermath.
>>
>>5525572
I meant, they got our horse which they will use to ride us down on
>>
>>5525572
Hey anon did you miss the part about Peake and the Tarlys basically gangraping Alyssa?

Because seriously I don't put that past Peake and at least one of the tarlys seem to like the idea.
>>
>>5525575
>I meant, they got our horse which they will use to ride us down on.
Ok, worse case scenario for running is that Edric doesn't actually get away.
But I would think that a part of finding an opening to escape would mean getting away to somewhere or in a way that would make it harder for them to do that.

Either way, if failure is an option we'll probably roll for it.
And unless Munkun is doing something goofy, that's only one or two rolls we have to pass vs several.

>>5525578
>Hey anon did you miss the part about Peake and the Tarlys basically gangraping Alyssa?
And what, are they about to go rape the girl to death right now?
They're talking shit, anon. Assholes talk shit.
And even if the Tarly brat is fixing to treat Alyssa real bad during the marriage in who knows how many years, we can always tell our evil stepmother what was said and let it be on her head if she doesn't trust us and makes her beloved daughter go through that shit.

We'll do our job like a good dog and keep watch over her until then, but we can't do that if Edric is dead or maimed.
>>
>>5525572
>unless Munkun is being VERY generous with the Fate point
The whole point of the fate point is that it works out. Here's a quote "if there's a roll or a combat, or a particular interaction you want to go a certain way, you can spend your fate point to have it work out for Edric.".
No need for generosity.
As for politics I don't give a fuck. My plan was always to fuck off at the first opportunity.
>>
>>5525585
>We'll do our job like a good dog and keep watch over her until then
Sorry ser white knight some of us have other plans.
>>
>>5525586
>The whole point of the fate point is that it works out.
I think you're being a bit too optimistic, but we'll see how it goes, I've been wrong before.
For Edric's sake, I hope you're right.

>>5525587
>Sorry ser white knight some of us have other plans.
Yeah, getting Edric's arm chopped off by Val Steel or otherwise crippling him.
Very cool, can't wait.
>>
>>5525585
The thing is Anon I don't thinks its just shittalking now that its in their heads, Peake has been prowling around our sister since we got here and the Tarly boy is clearly just lustridden, they arent going do it now but they have a plan for the melee too and I'm willing to bet cash money its a half decent one.

If they win those boys are going to be high on glory alcohol and testosterone and anythings possible at that point.

And I don't Edric should take it lightly either even if I am wrong.
>>
I completely forgot about the fate point. If it's possible, I'm game for spending it to kill these bastards here and now
>>
>>5525595
Bro, if they're as bad as you make them out to be they'll do it even if they lose.
That doesn't change the fact that fighting here is a bad move and won't do anything unless we get extremely lucky.

Literally, run for this boy's life. Secure that first before worrying about other shit.
>>
>>5525594
yeah your plans of giving up, dropping out of the tourney and spending next half a decade being alyssa's footstool and hobb's punching bag are so much better than mine
>>
>>5525599
Yeah no, you're plan of running away is worse than them losing sorry.
>>
>>5525604
>yeah your plans of giving up, dropping out of the tourney and spending next half a decade being alyssa's footstool and hobb's punching bag are so much better than mine
Not that those are actually even my plans, but even that is preferable to the boy being a one armed andy or better, being DEAD.

Please anon, you aren't thinking straight here.
Running from a 6 on 1 fight isn't bad. It's the smart thing to do.
Have Edric run and he can regroup and figure something out. He can get help from the bastards or his family.
Fighting this is more than likely suicide, again unless we get very lucky or the Fate point literally wins us the whole fight.
>>
>>5525611
How many times do I need to say "fate point" before it gets to you?
Running against a horseman is bad and not a smart thing to do.
>>
>>5525607
So your whole thing is that winning will somehow keep these assholes from going after Alyssa?

No faith in the other bastards to win the melee if worse comes to worst and Edric can't compete?
Really trying to carry the whole thing on Edric's back, without the Fate point, after seeing how he's performed in practices up until now?
And do you REALLY think, again, that if they're as bad as you think they are, getting their butts handed to them by a Dornish bastard will NOT send them into a alcohol and testosterone induced rage and have them go after Alyssa anyway?

Come on, Anon.

>>5525617
>How many times do I need to say "fate point" before it gets to you?
Ok.
Sure.

>Running against a horseman is bad and not a smart thing to do.
And fighting 6 on 1 i-
No. Nah, that's enough from me.
I'll let you guys figure it out and hope for the best.
>>
>>5525463
>seven hells, you wouldn't lie down without a fight
Valyrian Steel swords are loud af when clashing with other swords, Valyrian Steel or otherwise, couple blocks and someone will come running
>>
>>5525542
+1
>>
>>5525624
Anon you have clearly made up your mind and I have a get together to get to so I'm not going to try.
>>
>>5525463
>seven hells, you wouldn't lie down without a fight
We should probably aim to kill. I want to call their bluff, these guys are too chickenshit when it really gets down to it. Needed a wholeass gang just to try to beat down one guy. When one of them falls with their throat open, the rest will run.
>>
Just been lurking, but surely briefly pausing a sprint to turn and fight a horse rider is better than fighting 6 people that surround you guys. If you break the encirclement at all then hypothetically you have a small lead on any pursuers and have a brief window to turn and have a brief exchange solo with the horse rider instead of all 6. You'd be more maneuverable too if not faster.
>>
>>5525684
We don't have to fight them while they surround us.
Anons above already brought up that there could be a few different ways to fight and most seem to be in favour of breaking out of encirclement and then using tents to fight them one by one in a line.
Sounds to me just as safe as trying to fight a guy on a horse.
>>
>>5525463
>>seven hells, you wouldn't lie down without a fight
>maneuver between the tents, keep them single file

call for help if we can, nobody might come immediately but at the very least some people will move for us since there is 6vs1.

I really hope we can have more control of Edric in the future qm, i don't like the idea of letting others do whatever they want and the mc having 0 initiative until the "do or die" moment. Especially Edric getting surrounded.
>>
>>5525463
>>seven hells, you wouldn't lie down without a fight
EDRIC AIN'T NO BITCH. FUCK YOU SAMS TARLY. WHO NAMED YOU TWO, SOME HALFWIT WITH A STUTTER?
>>
>>5525463
>>5525541
changing to this

>charge the kid holding Chestnut, try to gain control, whether or not he lets go order our horse to run and hang onto the saddle for dear life
>if we fall off but some distance was made keep running
>if we fail to get the horse or gain enough distance, fight and maneuver between the tents, keep them single file

Holding onto a running horse is dangerous of course but it's either that or having our arm broken/cut and mounting Chestnut fully could take too long and allow them to drag us off again.
At the very least if we do fall off hopefully we'll have made some distance and not broken anything.

I'm honestly not sure about this plan, is it too complicated?
>>
>>5525722
Great plan for getting dog piled or stabbed in the back while struggling for the control of the horse
>>
>>5525739
fair enough
>>
>>5525463
>seven hells, you wouldn't lie down without a fight
>>
>>5525463
>this was not a fight you could win, find an opening and flee
>>
Funny how Marisa was all angry thinking Edric wanted to rape Marisa, while she is the one that got her daughter betrothed to a man that's going to abuse her.
Hobbs is a simp, Dad is incompetent and Marisa is retarded. It's a miracle House Clover hasn't been destroyed yet.
>>
>>5525776
I'm convinced she was so focused on Edric and the associated trauma and/or whatever kept her away from camp during the tourney she missed the obvious warning signs.

At least Edrics looking out for Alyssa I guess...
>>
>>5525722
This seems like the best strategy, if we want to be sure we can use the fate point here.
>>
What are the chances we could borrow another horse from either father or our bastard friends?
>>
Not that it probably matters to most of you but I'd like to point out a line from the update
>Easy Sam, that'll be my shithole some day," Samwyck said.
Think they're planning on killing off the Clovers?
>>
>>5525823
That was something like the implication.
>>
Can we shove one of Peake's croneys into Orphan-Maker's blade? I'd like the cunt to live with the thought of his fancy toy having killed or maimed a friend of his.
>>
I have 0 belief that we can run away.

As a plus, maybe we actually get a good sword out of this. That Orphan-Maker seems like it'd do good in the tourney.
>>
>>5525463
we could send the horse running by giving it a slap on the ass, that could give us an opportunity to either run away in the other direction, or to maybe get in a few fast attacks, going for some knockout blows to the nearest guys? swordpummel to the temple or jaw should do.
>>
>>5525823
Oh shit, nice catch, I completely glossed over.
Lets also say that we go tell Father and Marisa about what happens here regardless of what we actually do.
>>
>>5525463
>this was not a fight you could win, find an opening and flee

Not a chance we win this - gotta exit stage left
>>
Gormon Peake? More like Gormless Prick heyooo
>>
>>5525823
Having Garlan's, Marisa's and Hobb's stupidity blow up in their face and destroy the Clovers would be very fitting end.
Shame that it would mean these two faggots would be happy, and Gareth and the twins would probably die as well, so I can't vote to just let it happen.
>>
>>5525997
No way the Tyrells would just let them get away with something like that.
>>
>>5526138
They must clearly have a plan. If Gareth and Bael dies it will go to Alyssa
>>
>seven hells, you wouldn't lie down without a fight

while trying to break encirclement and fight the squires one at a time

okay writing
>>
>>5526272
Death and thorns!
>>
Fear washed through you.

The thought of running away flittered by but didn't hold.

Then your rage came upon you, and your course was set.

You weren't going to run from a worm like Gormon Peake. Not while you wore Linette's favour.

But you weren't going to stand and fight encircled as you were. You weren't going to fight stupid.

Gormon watched the point of your sword with more trepidation than was in his words. You jabbed the point toward him and he flinched back, then you lunged to the side, cutting for one of the Bulwer squires. "Crone's tits!" the squire said, tripping back to keep from being opened by your slash. You dived past him to the side a small folk tent, catching yourself on the canvas. The children within gave a frightened cry, hiding from the brawling high borns.

You turned in the lane between the tents looking back to Gormon and his friends. The other squires, Tarlys included, drew their swords, beginning to stalk around the tents to try and encircle you once more.

For now though you had them divided, and the Bulwer squire, Humphrey you think his name was, looked uncertainly behind his shoulder to the watching Gormon Peake.

"Just let him have his blood, Flowers," Humphrey Bulwer said, drawing his sword awkwardly and stepping toward you, "No one needs to die here."

"Anyone wants my blood is going to have to take it," you snarled, "And you should know by now, Dornish blood doesn't come cheap!"

Then you dove for Humphrey, slashing as you came.
-
>Edric is a better swordsman than Humphrey (+5 DC) is wearing his lady's favour (+5 DC) and is angry as hell (+5 DC)

>roll 3d100 DC65, roll under
>>
Rolled 81 (1d100)

>>5526292
>>
Rolled 72 (1d100)

>>5526292
>>
Rolled 32 (1d100)

>>5526292
>>
Goddamn these highrolls when it is low we want
>>
>>5526307
Kinda wish we had at least a reroll
>>
Rolled 48, 45, 28 = 121 (3d100)

I'm going to say it

Wearing your lady's favour will grant you 1(1) reroll

so give me one more but you have to live with the result, even if its a critfail
>>
Rolled 60 (1d100)

>>5526313
>>
>>5526292
>Gormon watched the point of your sword with more trepidation than was in his words. You jabbed the point toward him and he flinched back

Lmao don't bring steel if you aren't willing to bleed.
>>
>>5526313
whoops, didn't mean to roll that, but the good news is Humphrey had DC40 to hit due to skill disparity and his own frightened nerves, so that's only 1 success for him

>>5526314
still only 1 success for Edric

writing it up
>>
>>5526316
>>5526314
>>5526305
We got two success
>>
>>5526316
>still only 1 success for Edric
Huh? It was under 65 right?
>>
>>5526316
>still only 1 success for Edric
sorry 2 successes, brain isn't fired up yet

might need more caffeine
>>
>>5526313
Does the recroll refresh each round of combat?
>>
>>5526320
no, but it does each fight. so you only get one reroll per opponent but not 'per day' so to speak.
>>
>>5526322
Right so when we move on from a opponent gotcha.
>>
>>5526316
2 successes. 32 and 60
>>
Your first cut opens Humphrey's shirt, the tip of the sword slicing through his tunic, but he ducks back before you could do worse. Humphrey swears, swing his own sword up to clumsily parry the next cut with a clang. The Bulwer bull skull on his shirt hung split in half down his chest.

Then he drove the point of his sword toward your face with a frightened whine behind it. You gasped as the sharp steel point drove for your eye, its bright point flashing, your heart freezing in mortal terror.

In your mind's eye you saw a flash of Linette's smile.

Your sword moved faster than you thought possible, swiping aside the steel point and curving into a return cut by long drilled instinct. Humphrey swore, his head jerking back with a spritz of blood.

He stumbled away and you saw the meat of his cheek laid bare, a flap of skin hanging down past his jawline. The wet red meat gleamed in the sun, weeping blood. The Bulwer boy reached up to the wound. He drew back fingers sticky and red. The sight of his own blood had the boy drop his sword in shock. The sight of his blood sent a dark rush through, the sight of his pain and fear quickened your pulse.

"Fuck this Gormon, I'm not meeting the Stranger today!" Humphrey Bulwer said, stumbling away from you.

You tried to shout some boast or threat but all that came out was an animal sound, your heart beat in your throat, your body taken by cold waves of fear and hot rushes of rage.

"Come on you cowards, come on!" Gormon said, "There's only one of him!"

You saw the Tarlys try to skirt around behind you. You dove around another tent. Smallfolk were calling out in shock at the fight. Chestnut screamed, bucking at the squire who held him by the bridle, trying to get to you.

"That's my cousin you hurt," the other Bulwer squire said, rounding a tent toward you. But there was a fear in the back of the boy's eyes at the sight of your bloody sword and his own uncertain courage.

You snarled at him with that same voiceless dark rage.
-
>same as last time, Edric has DC65

>roll 3d100 DC65
>>
Rolled 88 (1d100)

>>5526339
nat 1
>>
Rolled 43 (1d100)

>>5526339
>>
(new rule because it makes sense to me. Wounds only carry over by 1 with each successive fight. So if you take 1 wound in a fight it doesn't roll over to the next. if you take 2 only 1 rolls over, and so on and so on)
>>
Rolled 29 (1d100)

>>5526339
>>
Rolled 53 (1d100)

>>5526339
>In your mind's eye you saw a flash of Linette's smile.
Linette ex machina.
>>
Rolled 9 (1d100)

>>5526339
>>
Rolled 88, 90, 63 = 241 (3d100)

>>5526345
counting this for the favour reroll

3 successes

now I'm rolling for Humphrey's cousin DC40
>>
>>5526339
>That's my cousin you hurt
I see Bulwer blood runs thin
>>
>>5526345
We’re definitely gonna have to thank her for saving our eyeball at some point.
>>5526343
Interesting.
>>
>>5526350
This boy is going to lose a lot more than his cheek.
>>
>>5526350
>not a single success
Bruh go home
>>
>>5526350
Isnt 90 a small critfail?
>>
>>5526350
Lmao, revoke this man’s squiring license
>>
Yo Munkun if we fail too badly or lose the fight, before writing it up do offer us a vote to use the fate point to avoid that. There's some interest (including me) in using that to avoid a bad end.
>>
>>5526366
I mean if we end up straight up killing this second Bulwer squire I don't think the fight will go on.
>>
>>5526369
Dont think we will kill him but he is certainly gonna lose something
>>
>>5526371
His cock he won't lose, because all of them have less cock than the unsullied.
>>
The Bulwer boy sent a clumsy cut, unnerved to be fighting with naked steel. It rang off your own. Fear, rage, a dark joy. Everything heightened. The world seemed unreal, your own breath loud as the deadly sword edge arced towards you, only to smash into your own as you rose to meet it, a red spark flying off his sword edge.

You started laughing. You pushed his sword down and spun a cut upward. Bulwer's face went stark pale as your blade chopped into the meat of his arm. You felt the crunch of bone. It was his own luck your sword didn't slice clean through but jarred off the bone and slid out, the sharp steel wet with his blood.

He looked down at the ruined muscle of his arm, face white and sweating. His face started jerking in strange motions of horror, his own sword dropped from unworking fingers.

"Mama," he sobbed.

Cry for your mother, you thought, your laughter carrying over his sobs. Cry, I'll make your mother cry too. Fuck your mother.

A morbid exhiliration whirled through you, hard panting laughs as he fled too.

"Dornish cunt," Samwyck next, your sister's betrothed, "Tarlys are made to kill Dornish cunts. I'll kill you then fuck your sister."

Fuck my sister, you thought, fuck my sister will you? I'll fuck her first. I'll fuck you too. Fuck you with my sword. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Wild dark irrational thoughts.

Samwyck wasn't scared. Samwyck was big and mean. Samwyck who had beaten you in the Rose Hall training yard, beating you while Ser Hobb watched. While Alyssa watched.
-
>Samwyck is a tougher opponent than the Bulwer squires, but Edric is his equal now and has his lady's favour (+5DC) and has momentum (+5DC)

>roll 3d100 dc 60
>>
Rolled 20 (1d100)

>>5526385
>>
Rolled 30 (1d100)

>>5526385
crit
>>
Rolled 28 (1d60)

>>5526385
Let's go dice gods
>>
>>5526388
>>5526390
>>5526391
Tarly shit aint worth shit. We are the Viper of Rose Hall!
>>
Rolled 89 (1d100)

>>5526385
rollin
>>
Rolled 68, 66, 96 = 230 (3d100)

>>5526391
>>5526390
>>5526388
Fuck Sam Tarly

rolling for him now though. Unlike the Bulwers though Sam is not scared, Sam is Edric's equal as a swordsman.

so I'm rolling 3d100 at DC50
>>
>>5526395
Thank God you rolled late
>>
GET FUCKED HAHAHAHAHA
>>
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>>5526388
>>5526390
>>5526391
>>5526396
VIOLENCE ACQUIRED
>>
>>5526397
amen anon
>>
>>5526396
Tarly aint shit i say
>>
Edric is fucking shit up
>>
>>5526396
Yeah this boy is fucked. Our pops needs to look for a new marriage alliance
>>
Take his nose, ruin that disgusting pig face even more
>>
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>>5526385
>Fuck my sister, you thought, fuck my sister will you? I'll fuck her first.
KEK
>>
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>>5526410
>>
Well hopefully 3 highborn boys running away in blood and tears causes enough commotion to bring the adults in. The others will lie about what happened of course, but Marisa told them to avoid us and they went out to find us, and only a fool would provoke 6 armed boys at once.
>>
>>5526396
Lmao you fatcunt you can't kill dornish for shit.

Muh reacherpride dornish supremacy worldwide!

Also regarding Peake I say we take him for ransom his uncle will come running if we have the sword and we can't extract every ounce of the vile truth from him on exchange.
>>
The strength of his blow was enough to tell you this was different, but as he ground his sword edge against yours all you could do was laugh. How simple this all was compared to everything else. It all made sense. All of Ser Hobb's lessons, all of Ser Hobb's cruelty. You looked up into the brutal stupidity of Tarly's face and grinned.

Everything.

Your sword whipped out from the blade lock viper fast and sliced the side of his head. Tarly drew back clapping the side of his head, howling in pain.

This was everything.

Your enemies fleeing, their blood on your blade. Standing there laughing.

This was everything!

Your cock hardened, you thought you might come.

Sword in both hands you howled at Sam Tarly clutching the side of his face, your sword seeking the fat of his neck.

But before it could your blade was caught. The other Sam, the bigger, even meaner Sam, stepped in to protect his little brother.

Samwyle Tarly looked down on you with a frown. The heir of Horn Hill, and behind him the House Crane squire. He pushed your blade back, the House Crane squire at his side.

Two against one, with Gormon Peake skulking behind them. His Valyrian steel sword, you wanted it.

You backed against a tent.

There was no dividing them now, and no escape.
-
>whatever one on one advantage is gone. Edric is fighting two against one now (-10), and fighting a superior warrior (-5) but he still has his ladies favour (+5)

>roll 3d100 dc40
>>
Rolled 48 (1d100)

>>5526423
Luck be our lady
>>
Rolled 33 (1d100)

>>5526423
Come here you counts
>>
Rolled 29 (1d100)

>>5526423
>>
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>>5526388
>>5526390
>>5526391
>>5526396
Time to clean house
>>
Rolled 45 (1d100)

>>5526423
>His Valyrian steel sword
>Still not as hard as our cock right now.
>>
Rolled 89, 61, 88 = 238 (3d100)

two success

but Tarly and the Crane boy is hitting at DC65 (the Lady's favour stacks to your bonus but doesn't deduct from theirs)
>>
2 successes. Still good. And we still have that fate point. These guys suck donkey dick
>>
>>5526423
The Crane boy was holding onto Chesnut right? Hopefully horsey boi is in the clear now
>>
>>5526430
only one success

Edric is unstoppable right now
>>
>>5526431
and their widows will suck Dornish (our) dick.
(Sorry if I'm going wild, but just imagening all this with the details makes it too fun.)
>>
We're not getting the sword, Edric is letting the minor victories get to his head. Samwyle just got 3 wounds, is there risk of his death?
>>
>>5526437
He is on a adrenaline high right now
>>
>>5526423
>His Valyrian steel sword, you wanted it.
GIVE THE SWORD PIG. A PIG LIKE YOU IS ONLY FIT FOR SLAUGHTER.
>>
>>5526423
we really need to get some permanent cup to hide that erection because holy shit
>>
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>>5526441
get me a fucking cup this is hype
>>
>>5526437
If we steal a fucking Valyrian steel sword the Tyrells would execute us straight away.
>>
>>5526444
No they wont, but i do agree we will not be able to keep. We can however take it and keep it for ransom and evidence for this attack
>>
>>5526429
Btw are we treating this extra 4th roll as the automatic re-roll for this fight? Because we would get one for the new opponents, correct? It would be fair, given that this roll was taken as the re-roll, just trying to clarify. >>5526345
>>
>>5526437
I don't want the sword but I want a confession, if ransoming the sword is what it takes so be it.

Peake wanted to fuck around now he gets to find out.
>>
>>5526448
I should also add we'd obviously be ransoming Peake at the same time.
>>
>>5526446
I do not think that would go well. Us having the sword is proof of nothing.
>>
>>5526449
There's no ransoming Peake or the sword. We're a Dornish bastard, any moment the adults are gonna come charging in then it's a game of not getting blamed for the entire thing.
>>
When there's no escape that leaves only one path, forward.

With sword in both hands you lunged for Samwyle. His sword caught yours and your blade slid down its edge. He punched you hard in the face and your head snapped back, blood dribbling from your nostrils, a cold shock in the back of your head. But it didn't break your momentum, you shoulder charged the bigger boy, square in the gut, and lashed your sword against his hip, striking more with your cross hilt than your blade.

The large stinking thug swore, thrashing his way free, and you carried forward into the Crane squire. He swore too, raising his sword to try to stop your upward swing. It saved most his face but you still split his chin, blood spraying out as he wobbled backward.

The hairs on the back of your neck were your only warning. You turned and caught Sam Tarly's cut as it descended. You spun to avoid the Crane squire's thrust. You moved with manic, graceless energy, leaving both boys bloodied until the skirmish broke apart.

Sam Tarly stood snarling on a weak leg, blood dribbled from the Crane boy's chin, but neither were fleeing as their companions had, with Samwyck sitting crying as he tried to hold his severed ear to the side of his head.

Samwyle spat, regripped his sword. He was stubborn.

But the Rose Hall would never bow to Horn Hill. Never.

You regripped your sword too.

For one last pass.
-
>Sam and the Crane squire are both hurt (+5 DC)

>roll 3d100 dc 45
>>
Rolled 71 (1d100)

>>5526459
>>
>>5526455
You prove intent. That they were trying to kill us. You dont givea sword like that for something minor which mean that House Peake supported this action or their heir stole the sword in order to kill us.

>>5526457
We wont ransom personally but our house will
>>
Rolled 75 (1d100)

>>5526459
>>
>>5526457
>not getting blamed for the entire thing
A little bit late for that don't you think?
>>
Rolled 23 (1d100)

>>5526459

I have a very bad feeling about this.
>>
Rolled 70 (1d100)

>>5526459
Ah fucking he'll anons roll well.
>>
Rolled 78 (1d100)

>>5526459
>>
Rolled 74 (1d100)

>>5526459
>>
>All these 70s
>>
Rolled 37 (1d100)

>>5526459
GIMME THAT SWORD NIGGA
>>
One success. Better than nothing.
>>
Rolled 41 (1d100)

>>5526461
Re-roll?
>>
Fuck. 1 success. Let's hope they roll ass. If not the what's your peoples opinion on using the fate point in this fight?
>>
>>5526461
>>5526463
>>5526466
>>5526467
>>5526468
>>5526469
Our luck would have run out eventually.
That's a lot of 70's If we keep rolling like this we might get that whole decade.
>>
Rolled 18, 19, 30 = 67 (3d100)

one success

rolling for Tarly at DC60
>>
>>5526473
There was no change of opponents. No rerolls.
>>
>>5526461
>>5526463
>>5526467
>>5526468
>>5526469
Would now be a good time to use the fate point? Nobody will probably maim or kill us during the melee but it's a real possibility here.
>>
>>5526476
And its at an end. Guess its time for fate point?
>>
Even if they roll 3 successes we are still in this fight and we have the fate point.
>>
>>5526476
Fate point time
>>
>>5526474
>>5526479

I would advise against it for reasons that will be clear soon
>>
>>5526476
Uh oh. We were already at 1 wound. 4 is fatal, right? Time to use the fate point?
>>
>>5526474
If shit goes south too bad use it, if just some bad luck don't. We need the fate point for the shitstorm after the battle.
>>
>>5526476
Fucking hell. I would be in favor of using that FP so that Edric isn't maimed or some shit.
>>
>>5526484
4 is a defeat, not necessarily death
>>
>>5526483
Suprise Chestnut charge?
>>
>>5526476
oh shit, we're done.

anons do we need to consider using the fate point, no way in hell they let us compete in the tourney tomorrow after we've already rolled half the competing squires or if we get badly wounded here.
>>
WE DEMAND TRIAL BY COMBAT BEFORE WE ARE PUT TO DEATH! If the mountain that rides can kill whoever they want then we can to!
>>
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>>5526483
>I would advise against it for reasons that will be clear soon
My genuine reaction.
>>
>>5526474
>>5526479
>>5526480
>>5526489
Well QM says no need for FP so I will believe him.
>>
In the spirit of sworn to valor and berserk quests let the horse get a roll.
>>
>>5526483
>>5526489

coolio cheers, Munk
>>
>>5526494
agreed inshallah
>>
>>5526462
Could they not simply claim we stole the sword? Fabricate an incident entirely from thin air which makes us the responsible party? I feel we should expect them to do that.
>>
>>5526493
yeah I posted before QMs response popped up, all g anon
>>
We went as hard as we could and based on those rolls he deserved to win because he is 1 older, 2 better armed and trained, and 3 he was defending his family. We just fought because we love it and refused to be cowards.
>>
>>5526497
100% we are going to get setup bros. no way a dornish bastard is allowed to maim the heirs to the reach. no matter how justified, Leo Longthorn has to bend to the nobles. expact danger
>>
>>5526476
AIEEEEEE
HELP US, CHESTNUT-SAMA
>>
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This round.
>>
>>5526508
kek
>>
>>5526455
Except he "borrowed" it, a thing I doubt his uncle would allow since its you know the family heirloom sword.

If he did well he deserves to pay a price.
>>
>>5526502
I think Leo is a stronger liege lord than you give credit anon
>>
>>5526512
Mayhaps. We shall see what happens. Doubtless though, expect the Bulwers, Pe*kes, Cranes to push for punishment
>>
>>5526497
>We stole the sword
>no never mind ignore 4/6 of my friends have wounds and I have a prior history of starting shit with the thief
>>
>>5526511
Either way, they could (and probably will) fabricate and lie about the entire situation to protect their honor and advance their objective against house clover. Whether the sword was stolen or given probably doesn't matter. It their word against ours, and father has demonstrated that powerplay and perceived honor trump justice and truth.
>>
>>5526514
Their house would know for sure what the truth is, you are right. But there is no reason to assume they wouldn't act like we were a thief when discussing the incident with our house or publicly. In fact, we should expect them to shift all blame to us.
>>
>>5526519
Well if we do do it its either going to be a rare case of genuine justice or a bitter reminder that the deck is inherently stacked against us.
>>
You swung for Tarly, he caught your blow. The Crane boy came in ffrom the side and tried to run you threw but only caught shirt. You turned and clobbered him down with the pommel of your sword, snapping something in his shoulder.

But big Sam Tarly was still up. He kneed you hard in the stomach, struck you across the face with his pommel. You stumbled back and he lashed you with his sword.

The tip of his sword opened your shirt and your chest underneath, a red ribbon opening. Blood streamed down to soak your tunic and you gasped in shock, your laughter dying against the cold shearing cut.

The Crane boy had his moment and grabbed your sword arm. You pulled back and tried to fight him off. Sam Tarly smashed his fist into your face, knocking out your wits. Your legs folded and you hit the grass, the Crane squire twisting your arm.

"You still want me to break it?" the Crane boy yelled to Gormon, "I'll break his fucking arm!"

He twisted it as if he could, your shoulder joint straining.

"No," Gormon said, "We need to do worse than that. Hold it out."

Sam Tarly put his weight on your back, driving you into the dirt. An animal panic seized you as you struggled under him, your sword arm gripped and held out.

"Fuck your mothers," you spat, "Fucking cravens. Craven dog fuckers!"

Gormon Peake walked over, swishing Orphan-Maker in front of him.

"I'm going to have that arm, bastard," he said, "I told you I would, and there's no Lady Clover to stop me now."

"Take his fucking head!" Samwycke sobbed, his severed ear in the palm of his hand, blood oozing down the side of his face, the wet meat gleaming.

"I'll take both arms, how's about that Sam?" Gormon said, "Both arms and a leg."

He raised his sword, the water pattern on the blade looking like crashing waves in the light.

"I think not," a voice that echoed with the sound of armour.

A knight had arrived. A knight all in red plate, with no device you could see, but an old squire behind him in humble garb leading a dark charger in matching barding. He wore a closed helm.

"Ser this is not our business," the old squire said, but the knight ignored him.

"Let the boy up," he said.

"And who are you, ser knight of no where?" Gormon Peake said, "This Dornish bastard assaulted us."

"I saw enough to have seen six on one," the knight said, "The boy fought fair, now let him up."

Gormon Peake for the moment turned to sneer at this knight. "Do you know who I am? I'm the heir of Starpike, who the hells are you?"

"I am the Knight of the Blackwater Rush, and I'm expected in the lists," the knight said, "I'll not ask again."

"This...this is Orphan-Maker, a Valyrian steel sword," Gormon said.

Behind his helmet the knight laughed, and drew his own sword. It was black steel, and rippled with the same water pattern. Your breathing stopped at the sight of it.

"Funny," he said, "So is this!"

And held up the sword Blackfyre.
>>
>>5526522
See this is why I wanted to extract the confession while holding the sword for ransom since its leverage against Ser Peake who knows weither his nephew borrowed it or truthfully or not and any anger therein works to our favor when Peake tries to lie.

Mootpoint now though unless this isn't the end of the fight.
>>
I'm going to archive this thread and start a new one.
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>>5526534
Ending on a cliffhanger, how cruel.
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>>5526527
HOLY SHIT
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>>5526527
Daemon-sama SENPAI!
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>>5526527
UNFATHOMABLY BASED BLACKFYRE
>>
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>>5526527
OH SHIT
>>
THE KING WHO BORE THE SWORD
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>>5526527
>And held up the sword Blackfyre.
MY KING
>>
Blackfyre King!
>>
FUCK YEAH
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>>5526527
>And held up the sword Blackfyre.
I-I-I K-KNEEL, MY KING
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Man talk about first impressions if this didn't buy Blackfyre points with Edric I don't know what will.
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Edric dont drop your spaghetti!
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>>5526527
AMAZING
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>>5515531
>"I heard there's a mystery knight in the lists," Linette said, "A stranger calling himself the Knight of the Black Rush."
Oh ho ho Daemon is our mystery knight in the lists.
>>
archived: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=A%20Bastard%20of%20Westeros%20Quest,
>>
>>5526564
don't forget to link the new thread here when you make it.
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>>5526527
Daemon Blackfyre, we pledge our sword to thee!
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>>5526603
I mean I hope to hell he's willing to bat for us since we need a definitive end to this bullshit before it escalates further.

If he's in our corner Peake is done.
>>
>>5526609
If i remember correctly he doesnt really like the dornish but he does like a guy who turns a 6v1 fight into a fair fight. He loves strong competent fighters
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>>5526611
I think Daemon one of those characters in the history who gets washed by the claims of his cause, many didn't like the dornish at the time so naturally they gravitated to Daemon after Daeron married into dorne.

Haven't read the books that focus on that history though so I can't say for sure, but I'm willing to bet this is going to show why he's got such a threatening claim.
>>
>>5526598
ok

>>5526613
>>
>>5526611
I believe he really didn't have any desire to claim the throne until the anti dornish camp convinced him, though it's all pretty ambiguous since there isn't a f&b2. But he is described as a pretty stand up guy



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