Gris sits down at a desk and reaches for a quill. Alyssa sits by him, looking over his shoulder. They begin to discuss the exact wording of what the pleas for help should be.

"I still say we don't need to kowtow to other lords to crush a mass of peasants armed with only pitchforks," Alyssa says as she glances critically at the blank sheet of parchment

"You are completely in the right. I'll just send a raven to our bannermen in Summerhall - oh wait . . . it fell. No matter, we'll just seek reinforcements from Bronzegate - actually, that fell too, didn't it?" Gris responds, raising an eyebrow and leering at his sister with his pale pupil.

"Just write it," interrupts Alyssa, trying to end this conversation. Gris turns back to the page and begins to scrawl words upon the page

[i]Addressed to the Tyrells of Highgarden

We Baratheons at Storm's End would like to call in our debt in our time of need. The People's Rebellion has reached a critical point. We ask you to send your mightiest warriors to reinforce Storm's End as soon as can be done. For without your assistance and the assistance of your bannermen, we shall surely fall.

Sincerely Yours
House Baratheon of the Stormlands[/i]

"That looks horrible. Can't you write?" Alyssa criticizes, looking over the sloppy mess that is Gris's letter.

"Well, it gets the point across doesn't it? If you think you're so diplomatic, then you write it." Gris retorts.

"Fine, I will," Alyssa says as she snatches the page from Gris. She walks out of the lab, closing and locking the door behind her. Then, she goes up to the tallest tower in the keep and sends his letter to Highgarden with a raven. The truth is, as much as Alyssa knows she could write a more cohesive letter, her parents never thought of letters as so important. She could barely read it, much less write.