[center][h3][color=9e0b0f]King Tyget Crakehall - Crakehall castle[/color][/h3][/center]

Tyget sat, reading the myriad of letters on his desk. Most were from ships, fleets, mercenary companies, pirates and slavers agreeing to muster at Lannisport as he asked, offering gold and the right to pillage the lands they would soon be raiding. He wanted the Iron born to feel exactly what it meant to be on the recieving end of their 'Iron price', and he would burn lord Greyjoy alive... for no other reason than he wondered how the drowned god thought about burnt corpses. Regardless, none of it mattered in the end as the most important letter had yet to arrive... the alchemists had yet to send their response to his inquiry on wildfire, which he was going to need in order to succeed against the huge Kraken fleet. he rested his elbows on the table, cracked his neck, and rested his head in his hands, he was understandably stressed.

The sound of screaming outside his chambers force Tyget back to reality, he shot his head up, looking around his room, before standing, he yelled out, trying to understand what in seven hells was going on.
"Who's there?" No response came. He called for his kingsguard, again no response. Was Gerald playing at something? Was someone being assassinated? Whatever the case, Tyget didn't like his odds. Grabbing Widow's Wail, he opened his door slowly, scanning the hall, there was no one present, not even his kingsguard, Tyget cursed them under his breath, then walked towards the stairs, he'd have to go see Gerald, maybe he was doing something stupid, or maybe he heard the noises as well.

Tyget opened the door to Gerald's chambers slowly, not even knocking. What he saw... well, he had no clue what to make of it. Gerald knelt on the floor, a red cloth worn as a sash over his usual wear, he was in a praying posture, hands together and head down, and in front of him was a burning fire, a human body visible within.

Tyget's eyes widened at the sight, the smell of burning flesh assaulted his nose, he coughed lightly and looked at his brother praying to the burning man, for a moment unable to form words at the spectacle before him, before he gulped loudly and spoke to his brother, [color=a187be]"What in the Seven Hells are you doing?"[/color], he would look down the hallway, and seeing no one he closed the door behind him, placing one hand on the hilt of [i]Widow's wail[/i] and staring intently at his brother, [color=a187be]"Who is that? And why the hell are you burning them in my castle?"[/color], he couldn't take his eyes off the pyre or his brother, rapidly switching between the two.

Gerald continued his prayer, a low droning noise, speaking in multiple languages, one of which, Tyget could identify as High Valyrian.
"Daery Halleys, Kinron Deareo!" He yelled, spreading his arms and leaning back as he did. From what Tyget could understand, it was High Valyrian for... some nonsensical sentance that didn't even sound like the common tounge, 'Righteous Purge, Usurper Dead' or some nonsense to that effect. He then yelled out in common, even louder than before.
"For the night is dark, and full of terrors!" The fire then crackled loudly, and the flaming head of the body rolled off of the corpse to Gerald's knees, before burning out. Gerald placed his hands on his thighs and then chuckled.
"That's never happened before." He then moved to one knee, pushing himself to a stand, turning to his brother with the same amicable smile that he usually took.

"You know, it's polite to knock." He said, chuckling a little as he did. Then his smile disappeared and he crossed his arms.
"I'm offering up a sacrifice, he is a prisoner, trial complete, about to be sent to the wall, I thought he'd be of more use as a sacrifice, to empower the Lord of Light's abilities. And finally, I'm burning them in your castle, because it makes it easier to hide it, if I burned them outside, then half the smallfolk in the Westerlands would know." He walked over to the corpse, holding out a hand, as he did, the flames slowly died, though Gerald visibly twitched as he did so. He turned back to his brother, chin up, and eyes intense.
"Are your questions answered?"

Tyget slowly relaxed his grip on [i]Widow's Wail[/i] and raised an eyebrow at his brother, [color=a187be]"You're a follower of the Lord of Light? You managed to come across a Red priest all the way up north and they converted you?"[/color], he let go of his blade and stalked over to the burnt corpse, amazed at how quickly the flames had faded at Gerald's touch. He wheeled around, looking his brother in the eyes.
[color=a187be]"Or is it something else? You said you were sacrificing him to 'empower the Lord of Light's abilities'... what in Seven Hells do you mean by that? Burning this unlucky bastard... what, grants you sorcerous powers?"[/color], his eyes narrowed, he was now unsure if he had mistakenly brought a mad fanatic obsessed with burning people alive into his keep, with no Red Priest to leash him.

Gerald held his mouth open for a second, before his face visibly brightened, and he walked over to his table, gripping a knife from off of it. He walked past Tyget, quickly, not slowing down at all dispite the small quarters.
"I was a mercenary in Essos, you're eventually gonna find a Red Priest there, they talked of 'Saving the West from the dangers up North', I thought it a bunch of nonsense, the Crone gave me wisdom enough to see through their lies." He grabbed his sword from near the door, pulling it out of it's sheath and laying it before him, looking his brother in the eyes.
"But, you know how it goes, a dying man prays to any god that he thinks would help." His face turned very cold, a frown that Tywin Lannister would be proud of.
"I prayed to the Seven for days, all I got was pain and suffering. A mummer's farce of worthless prayers wasted on some god who doesn't exist. I prayed to the Drowned god, hoping that he'd bring me an Ironborn with magic powers, or a giant squid man. Nothing. I prayed to all of them, and I got nothing in return."
He put the daggar on the palm of his hand, his fingers splayed, but still pointing at Tyget.
"Then I prayed to the Lord of Light, he brought me a healer. He at first simply prayed over me, and I felt like it was worthless, I was dying damnit! Do something! And then... I died. I died then, and then I awoke again, the red priest standing over me. He told me of one of R'hllor's priests, his most powerful, resting on the wall. So I went, and I prayed at her tomb. I saw visions in the fire. But it still wasn't enough for me, I was firmly on their side, but nothing to make me pray for them more than when I was dying. Then I went ranging, got cut, and..." He pulled the daggar over his palm, blood leaving through scarred skin, he closed the hand, and a single drop of blood landed on his sword. It burst into flames.
"That happened." He picked up the flaming blade, and placed it in it's sheath, which didn't burn, he then placed the sword back where it had been. He turned back to Tyget, his face neutral.

"Any other questions?"

Tyget had placed his hand back on his blade as Gerald had taken up his dagger and blade, but had listened intently... then he heard it... so... a priest could bring you back... back from death. He was about to speak when Gerald drew the dagger across his hand, and ignited his sword with his blood. Tyget had jumped back then, surprised by the suddenly aflame sword. He stared in awe as it burned, seemingly from nothing, before Gerald extinguished it... for a few moments Tyget sat, his face in a neutral look, but his eyes in shock.
He looked to his brother, [color=a187be]"You're a red priest? A servant of R'hllor? And... he grants you... that? You were brought back from death?"[/color], for a few moments Tyget stood, releasing his grip on his blade, before his rasping laugh escaped his lips. He had to lean back on a table for support as he laughed, then looked back to his brother, [color=a187be]"Brother, you have no [i]idea[/i] how long I have waited for a Red Priest, and now it appears the 'One true god' has seen it fit to provide me with one. *Rasping chuckle*, ah, come brother, we have much to discuss now."[/color], Tyget opened the door and found a servant there, eyes wide, Tyget jerked his thumb back to the headless and burned corpse behind him, [color=a187be]"See to it that that corpse is removed from here immediately. If you tell no one, I'll pay you and any who help you 30 silver each, and if I discover you have talked regardless, I shall burn you like that poor bastard."[/color], the servant nodded, and moved into the room, as Tyget gestured for Gerald to follow him as he began wlaking down the hall.
They would walk for a short time, until they were in the Castle garden, where Tyget looked at his brother and stopped, [color=a187be]"So, a sorcerer now eh? Quite a step up from a regular crow. How did you learn all this... magic?"[/color], his face was not accusing or judging, simply interested.

Gerald looked around the gardens as Tyget talked, his body still looking at him, but his eyes elsewhere, he looked back at his brother and smirked.
"I am no sorcerer, I am simply a devoted follower of the Lord of Light, and this 'magic', is only his blessings, and those are only due to my belief in the great bringer of light, with sacrifice, I can do much more, though I found it easier on the wall, some magic bullshit that Brandon the Builder put into it." He spit at the ground, wiping off his face with his other hand.
"It took a while to gain access to these miracles, the 'lightbringer' miracle, was, as I said, an accident, while control of fire had to be learned, it took a while, and my hand still bears the scars from some of my burns, but eventually, with enough faith, I was able to, though I'm not at the level of throwing fire from my hands yet." He scratched his beard, stray hair follicles falling from it.
"I still haven't done Dondarrion's kiss yet, that one is apparently for the truly faithful. Apparently I'm not yet." He blew out through his lips.
"Whatever the case, The Walkers seemed to fear me when I came upon one, he burned real nice, just like his pack of human dogs." He looked to his right, then walked over in that direction, picking a flower and looking it over.

Tyget listened as Gerald spoke, as he watched him move to pick up one of the many flowers in the garden and inspect it. He mulled over thie information a bit before walking to his side,[color=a187be]"Sorcery, spells... miracles I suppose, and the Lord of Light gives them to you... so this 'Donarrion's kiss' is the one the priest used to brinng you back to life? ... so it is true... amazing... certainly more than I've ever seen the Seven do. Tell me Gerald, how does one... begin to worship this Lord of Light? I watched you turn a blade to flame, and douse a burning man... truly this Lord of Light is... powerful... I wish to ally myself with Dorn, and such a thing could help. How do I enter his worship?"[/color], he looked down at Gerald, intently watchiing his priest brother.

Gerald continued examining the flower as he listened, looking to the sky as he heard Tyget's words. Upon hearing his brother's query, he laughed to himself, turning and putting a hand upon his brother's shoulder.
"You cannot become an initiate for want of power brother, in order to gain the Lord's blessing, you must truly believe, truly and entirely. You must devote a portion of your mind to praising him, only then, can you gain the Lord's favor." He turned away, grasping the flower to his chest, he then dropped it, leaving it on the ground. He then turned to Tyget, a hand running through his beard.

"Well, I guess you could aid me in a ritual, perhaps that may gain R'hllor's favor." He turned away, placing his knife upon the ground. He looked at his brother with a smile.
"Place Widow's Wail next to my knife, only then can the ceremony begin." He gestured for his brother to approach.

Tyget scowled slightly as Gerald explained that the Lord of Light required more than a wish for power, before he asked him to place [i]Widow's Wail[/i] next to his own blade. Though Tyget gave an incredulous look, he wanted the support of the red church. So he drew the Valyrian steel blade, observing the rivulets of black and red running down the blade, before carefully placing it next to the dagger. He stood and looked at Gerald, his look asking, [i]"Alright priest, what next?"[/i]

Gerald smiled, he seemed to actually be surprised by the fact that his brother had actually gone through with it.
"Good, now, kneel before the sword, as I will to the knife." He said, slowly descending into a kneel, beckoning his brother to do the same.

Tyget, still apprehensive slowly followed Geralds example, uncertain of what this ceremony entailed or what he had gotten himself into. As he kneeled he watched Gerald closely, waiting for further instruction.

Gerald nodded, he grabbed the knife, placing it to his hand, slicing it open again. He looked over at Tyget, eyes closed and a look of tranquility on his face.
"Your turn, don't use the sword, if you cut yourself with that, you may cut right through." He then handed the knife to Tyget, nodding silently, beckoning him to take it.

Tyget took the blade, still covered in his brothers blood. He held it to his hand, but hesitated... he had long heard tales of blood magic in the east, and of its ill effects... he ground his teeth, deciding the pain was worth it and slit his own hand oped, whincing slightly at the pain, looking at Gerald now more than a little angry, but saying nothing.

Gerald held his hand out over the Valyrian blade, it burst into flames as his sword did earlier.
"Hopefully, if I did this right, the flame should turn blue, like the sword was made of ironwood, so, do that." He pulled his hand back, nursing it. He held his other hand out over the blade.
"I'll try to help as best I can, but this will be mostly you." He explained.

Tyget stared at the flame on the blade... it was strange for some reason... shadows danced in the flame... but he obeyed, and held his hand above the blade in a fist, squeezing blood for the open wound

The blade burst out in chaotic blue flame, rings of blue flame extending from each side, the ground below the sword blackening. Gerald cringed, twitching as he attempted to contain the flame.
"Well, there's the power in Nggh... kingsblood... It's a lot harder to... control... you may... want to... pick it up..." He said, his body shaking more and more with every passing second.

Unlike Gerald, Tyget had not flinched, he had watched as the blade burst out blue, the fire now raging and chaotic and... powerful. Power in Kingsblood... and his caused the flame to fight the priest who spawned it... Tyget snatched the blade up by its hilt, raising it above his head, marvelling at powerful blue flames, he said nothing but stood, wishing to swing his flaming blade.

Gerald looked on, as Tyget marvelled at the blade, like a child with a new toy. He seemed awestruck, but Gerald could tell by his grip on the blade that he wanted to try it out. Gerald laughed loudly, the flame continuing to bite the air, with Tyget's hands shaking out of his control. He was having trouble holding it, but he was doing better than Gerald would have, was this a good sign? He assumed so, though that was a big assumption to make.
"Go ahead, give it a swing." Gerald said, standing and cracking his neck.

Tyget felt the blade... fighting him, tugging hard against his grasp. He fought it back, and upon Geralds request, he swung the blade, going through several of his trained sword strikes, fighting the ghost opponent he always did when training with no target. As he swung the blade was easier to hold, but still seemed to rail against his will. He eventually stopped, panting from both controlling the blade and using it, looking to Gerald, [color=a187be]"Brother... what does all this [i]mean?[/i]"[/color], the excitement from the ceremony still in his eyes, the eyes of a much younger man.

Gerald grinned at his brother playing like a kid, he was always so mature, and to see someone near fifty years playing around like a young child. Then he finally finished throwing his sword around, he stopped to gasp, asking Gerald what was happening.
"It means you have kingsblood, it makes my rituals work better, and apparently, lets you control my abilities better." He chuckled at his brother's sudden change in temprement.

Gerald walked over to Tyget, placing his hand near the blade, and the flame slowly dissipated, though it caused Gerald physical pain, he cringed, grinding his teeth together as his whole body convulsed. The flame finally died down, leaving a valyrian blade, just like usual, but Gerald was now incredibly tired.
"God that hurt, what in the name of The Lord of Light...?" His hands continued to spasm, he held his wrists, but it continued. He grimaced.
"I should be fine, but... dear R'hllor that burned."

Watching as Gerald doused the flames on his blade, and then convulsed with pain. As the blade no longer fought him Tyget turned to his brother, putting the blade in its sheath, and placing a hand on his shoulder, a look of concern on his face. He listened, and nodded but gave a questioning look, [color=a187be]"You're surprised?"[/color], he snickered lightly, [color=a187be]"Perhaps the blood of all kings is not made equal... I certainly never heard of Stannis Baratheon's [i]Lightbringer[/i] bring blue flame... or any for that matter. Nor did I hear it pained the lady Melisandre. Must be a good sign eh?"[/color], he looked at his brother, attempting to do what he did and make light of the situation.

Gerald frowned, his brother thinking that he had achieved something past lightbringer. He continued massaging his wrist, his hands still lightly trembling.
"Well, first, you're wrong. Second, Lightbringer is much more powerful than that ritual. Third, Melisandre was a sorceror, so she could control her rituals much easier. If you had Lightbringer, it would be [i]much[/i] harder to control, the only reason Stannis was even able to hold it, was because he had months and months of training." He walked over to his brother, placing his dagger back onto the ground.
"We could do it again and get the same result, Lightbringer couldn't be turned on and off, and they only had to do the ritual once, and even that was half as powerful as Azor Ahai's Lightbringer, if you think you're so great, kill your wife and come talk to me." He crossed his arms, a frown over his face.

Tyget frowned, clearly he'd struck a nerve with that one, hard to do with Gerald. [color=a187be]"A pointless joke brother, won't tell it again... I've never had quite your way with humour I suppose. I understand it's not [i]Lightbringer[/i] and no one has declared me Azor Ahai like Stannis so I doubt I'll ever have it. Now stop frowning, it does not suit you like it does me, I'll settle for a blade with blue flame, and I won't force you to pain yourself again, though doing so would make the blade easier yes?"[/color], he kneeled before Geralds dagger again, unsheathing his blade, the Valyrian steel had no sign of previously being engulfed in magical flame, he looked at Gerald, [color=a187be]"If it will, then I'm ready to continue if you are. R'hllor is looking more and more real every second... and the Seven fade from my mind."[/color], hopefully THAT at least would aleviate Gerald's sudden rage.

Gerald seemed pleased by Tyget's statement, apparently he had been converted, the faith had been spread, he'd succeeded in his mission, or at least, that's what it took to actually become a red priest, not an acolyte anymore.
"You really wish to do this again? I'm still bleeding, so that'll make it easier, are you bleeding?" He knelt down, and lit the blade again.

Tyget nodded, looking at his hand, [color=a187be]"Mother always said there were two types of pain, the worthless pain..."[/color], he squeezed his wound again, wincing slightly as he did, and the blade burst into the wild blue. This time he picked it up swiftly, and moved into his dueling stance, [color=a187be]"... and the pain that makes you stronger."[/color], and he began to go through the motions, though now the joy of before was a mere glint in his eyes, as now he practiced to perfect himself, to be able to hold the blade until it no longer fought his will.

Gerald watched his brother practice, he smiled, then thought to himself for a second. The only real training he'd get would be in a fight, so...
"Tyget, prepare yourself!" He drew his blade, it slid across the leather, making a soft noise. He then rubbed his bleeding hand over his blade, it smeared over the flat, and then it burst into flames. His brother had less experience in a fight, but Gerald didn't have a blue-flame sword of power or something. No matter what, he'd allow his brother a little more practice with the new weapon. He ran forwards, swinging his sword towards Tyget's neck, fully prepared to hold back once he came close.

Tyget turned to see his brother charge him with his own blade, aflame in the thinner red, yellow and orange of a milder fire. The blade came for his neck and Tyget quickly parried it to his right, he may have had less true combat experience than his brother, but it did not change the fact he had been trained as a Knight by a Knight. He brought his own blade in a downward arc, a purposefully telegarphed attack to allow Gerald an easier time blocking it.

Gerald looked up at the telegraphed attack, the sword leaving a blue arc in the air as it descended. Gerald threw up his blade, but the valyrian steel bit into it, chipping his sword near in half, he groaned, pushing it to his left, and following it up with a rightwards swing, both hands on his blade.

Tyget brought his blade to block Geralds, feeling his own valyrian sword and Gerald's ordinary one clash, Gerald's ordinary blade giving even a little more. He pushed the blade back up, and telegraphed another swing at his midriff, prepared to pull should Geralds blade break against his own.

Gerald looked up to his blade as it flew up into the air, still in his right hand, it was very chipped, a further hit to it would probably chop it in half. looking back at Tyget, to see him again swinging at him. Gerald frowned, jumping backwards, the blade nearly slicing through his stomach. He decided that he wasn't going to win like this, so he crouched to the ground, setting the flower he had dropped earlier on fire, then forcing the blaze larger and larger, to the point where it was basically a wall between the two of them, allowing Gerald time to think. He thought that he might try to put more of his blood on the blade, but he doubted that that would work. He crouched, rubbing through his beard.

Tyget backed off from the wall of flame, beggining to worry about setting the garden he had spent so much gold on alight. Tricky bastard had put it up to gain space, to hell with that. He stalked on the other side, the blade fighting his grip, harder to hold without fighting, but he stood, taking his maesters advice, and waited.

Gerald continued to think, every time the flames bit out towards the garden, he prevented them from doing any real damage. Then he finally decided what to do, so he lept through the flame, stopping from the tongues of fire from touching him. He slid to a stop, using the momentum to swing from below towards Tyget's right hip.

Tyget had been ready, but even still hopping through the flames was a surprise. He only just moved out of the way, the blade skewering the air inches from his hip. Tyget pressed Gerald, bashing his blade towrds the ground with his own and swinging for his borthers neck or collar, ready to stop should he be unable to stop it.

Gerald groaned frustratedly, that was everything he had thought of, if he wanted to fight any longer he'd have to put the flame back up again to think, and he didn't want to burn any more of his brother's garden.
"Yield." He said, not yelling, but saying it loudly enough, he dropped his sword, the flames of it not burning the ground below his feet.

Tyget stopped his sword short of Gerald's collar, his hand was shaking. He drew back his blade and held his wrist to stop it, sweat poured from his brow from fighting the sword and Gerald... but it had gotten easier as the fight had progressed. He looked at his brother, [color=a187be]"Good... *pant* but... how do I... *pant*... stop the flames..."[/color]

Gerald picked up his sword, looking at his brother having difficulty controlling the flames.
"Hold your hand to it, think of a calm stream, it may hurt, but it will eventually work, if that doesn't work, then hand it to me."

Tyget let go of his wrist, his hand shaking again. He carefully brought his left hand over the blade, a calm stream... a calm stream... it burned, hot like fire was. He grimaced, but slowly, the blue flame calmed, shrank, and eventually disappeared completely. Tyget tiredly sheathed the blade, his panting had slowed, he looked back to his brother, [color=a187be]"Well... that is one of the most... ex-exhilaring duels I've had in a while. How... often shall we hold these bouts brother? And what else would you have me do to please the Lord of Light?"[/color]

Gerald chuckled, eventually it transitioned into a full-on laugh, he walked past him, towards the castle, the sky had brightened while they had spoke and later fought. He looked back towards Tyget, sheathing his blade.
"I don't know, just practice with the normal flames for now, it will help with control. Maybe we can practice every few days. The second one... well..." He scratched his chin. 
"Burn a few prisoners, that should help." He then turned away, and walked into the castle.

Tyget watched as his brother returned inside, and looked around. Some of the ground was scorched, but other than that there was little evidence of their duel... good, less questions. Burn a few prisoners? Simple enough, and the fact that soon he imagined he'd be wielding a blade wreathed in wild blue flame as he carved through the Iron islanders filled him with joy. He to walked back inside, he needed a drink, and there was much more work to be done.