[h1][center][color=orange] Gerald Crakehall[/color][/center][/h1]

The sound of clopping hooves and hooting men was deafening, Gerald was never a big fan of noise, and when he was young it would send him into a fit of madness whenever a minstrel sang, he still had difficulty holding himself in presently, his teeth ground together and his hands tightened on the reins of his horse. A brisk wind blew by his face, causing him to groan and cover it with a gauntleted fist.

"Something wrong Prince Crakehall?" Lord Spicer rode next to Crakehall, the old knight was a skilled fighter and better commander, utterly loyal to their cause. Gerald looked over to the gaunt man, who looked at him with confused eyes and permanently pursed lips.
"No, it's just surprisingly cold today." Spicer smiled, his toothless gums red and bloody from age, leaking a fluid yellow and thick, like the "caramel" the Summer Islanders make.
"You're really going to just ignore whatever's bothering you?"
"Yes in fact! I'd prefer it if I was home, my wife's mouth around my cock, but I'm needed here, and that's all that matters at the moment."
"I guess there's no shame in that, I prefer to allow myself to speak, balances the humors." [i]The ones you're leaking?[/i] Gerald questioned to himself.
"Humors are bullshit, if a maester's bleeding you, that blood had better be black as night." Spicer's bald head glistened as he looked back at the road, his lips still pursed, and his brow furrowed.
"I would trust a maester, maesters save your life."
"Do they now? Because they certainly didn't for me!" Spicer looked back at Gerald, his face unchanged, but Gerald could feel the coldness it projected onto him.
"Your 'Lord of Light' saved you? Bah! A healer saved you boy, you'd do well to remember that."
"How do you know of my beliefs?"
"The whole kingdom knows your brother's a burner, as is his son, and they started just as you arrived, what a coincidence."
"How do you know it wasn't the Dornish?" Spicer looked at him, a look of pure disbelief on his face, before breaking out into hysterical laughter.
"Boy, your brother wouldn't listen to a Dornishman if he was telling him the secret to a long cock." Gerald frowned in agreement.
"Aye... I guess it was pretty obvious wasn't it?"
"Obvious as your member right now." Looking down, Gerald noticed his member was, in fact, erect, he then proceeded to look back up, paying it no heed.
"Why were you admiring my manhood Spicer?"
"Because your clothes do nothing but bring attention to it, how many plates do you need in that area?"
"Enough to stop a sword, an arrow, or a scorpion."
"Feel lucky that your's still works boy, when you're my age it will take a turn." [i]Was that entirely necessary?[/i] Gerald thought to himself, cringing at the unwelcome mental image that statement provoked.

Trumpets rang out, and a mass stomp rang from the men to Gerald's front and back, informing them that some form of enemy had been sighted. Gerald exhaled deeply. [i]Thank R'hllor[/i]. Spicer looked around, before riding away, his courser angrily snorting at the ground soldiers in it's path. Gerald decided that he had no choice but to follow, angrily cursing whatever Great Other had forced him to do this.

Clopping over the dry ground, Gerald eventually caught up with Spicer, who was in an angry argument with the horn-blower, one of Tyget's household knights.
"They're smallfolk! Whores, farmers, brigands, cutpurses, how were you given the authority to kill them without command?"
"I am the leader of this army's right flank, they answer to me, not to you Spicer!"
"You then answer to me, I answer to Prince Gerald, and he answers to Tyget, you were out of line." Gerald rode over, allowing his presence to be known with a cough.
"Unfortunately, Spicer is right, you had no right to preform those actions, Ser Dontos." Dontos looked at him with  his fat face, spilling spit all over his beard, as Spicer spilled blood and pus over his chin. [i]I could walk between these two and be wetter than my wife every time I enter the room.[/i] He chuckled silently at his joke, saving it for later when he returned to her. Spicer smiled, his eyes closed and brow raised, planting his arms together across his chest, like when a child is informed that they won the argument. Dontos could barely meet Gerald's eyes, staring into the dirt.
"Of course milord." He walked away, towards the rest of the army, staring silently into the dirt and kicking stones. Gerald looked back, to see the men staring at him dumbly, which made him angry somehow.

"We continue marching! Let the Tyrells fall like flies before us!" The men "Aye"ed, and then proceeded to return to marching. Gerald sighed, rubbing his forehead.
"I really need to speak to Tyget."
[hr]
[h1][center]Aerys 
"I have no other characters to do stuff with that don't require someone else's action" 
Targaryen[/center][/h1]

The boat rocked, and Aerys felt sick.

How much longer were they going to be on this bloody seven buggering hells forsaken ship? If felt good to think that, after his mother arrived, Aerys wasn't doing very much cursing, he needed to release his frustration! Stranger's horse he was tired, but sleep didn't come easy on a crowded boat which smelt of arse, especially after Royce shat himself while tossing chunks over the side of the ship, they had no spare clothes, so he washed them in the water and put them back on. That was a funny moment, his arse was whiter than his cloak, except for the thin line of brown between the cheeks. None of the others took it well.
"SHIELD YOUR EYES!"
"STRANGER BE GOOD!"
"THEY'RE BLEEDING, THEY'RE BLEEEEEDING!!" They started calling him "Brownthumb" Mostly due to the amount of shit that had collected on his hands as a result of the "Cleaning", Lyman Lannister was merciless, well, at least after he collected the spare chunks of eye from off the deck.

Aerys continued rolling on the hard cabin floor, his back stiff and sore. He couldn't stand this any longer. He slowly moved to a sit, near jumping when he heard a creak from below him. Thankfully, no one awoke. He moved to a stand, crouching slightly and walking sideways to calm the creaks. He stepped over the sleeping guards slowly, nearly falling over Dayne's broad shoulders. He looked at Dayne for a second, breathing deeply, forcing himself to calm. He turned his head quickly, seeing the stairs, which he slowly crab-walked over to. Taking the stairs one step at a time, he reached the large door that signified the deck. He pushed it open slowly, it pushed against him, straining his arms and causing them to ache.

He opened the door, to see Lyman hunched over the ship's wheel, his arms dangling loose from the sides. The anchor had been lowered, but Aerys suspected that it hadn't been Lyman that had lowered it. Looking to Lyman's right, he saw a large pillar of land emerging from the water, with a large black shape resting on top of it. Drogon, as usual.

Aerys heard a splashing in the water behind him, startled, he turned quickly, walking over to the water. Curious, he looked over the side, leaning more and more over the wood barrier. He saw a dragon looking back at him, proud, wearing a gold crown, but then it collapsed in a pile of flesh, to reveal a man, gold haired, gold armored, purple eyed, smiling with spear in hand. The man suddenly collapsed as well, to reveal a hunched old man, also with gold hair and purple eyes, it looked like... Aegon, if he were old. Then he collapsed as well, to reveal all three staring at him. Then, the gold man grabbed at Aegon, clumsily, like he hand no joints, as he did, one of his arms fell off at the elbow, like it was hardly attached, the dragon gripping it in it's teeth. The two men fell over, collapsing in a pile of swords and blood, as this happened, the arm in the dragon's mouth shattered into gold pieces. Rising from it, came Daenys, his father, gripping the old Aegon's head, with the golden man no-where to be seen. The dragon turned on him, burning him to a crisp, but he still smiled, as he crumbled into ashes. The dragon stood alone, but it looked sad, and alone. Before it's eyes glinted red, and a hand raised from the depths, grabbing Aerys by the throat, and dragging him into the water, the boat crumbling into pieces as he fell.

Aerys looked at the dragon, which smiled at him, with a disturbingly human face. It's mouth opened, and Aerys found himself swimming in an ocean of flames, a boar's body parts laying strewn across it, along with a dead wolf, trampled flowers, a dead squid, and a broken spear. A stag walked in, looking at the carnage, it mewled in anger, before a lion ripped it's intestines out. The lion stood alone, and Aerys looked below, to see the dragon thrown away, blood staining it's wings. Aerys raised his hand, only to see a torn wing, brutalized by flame. He roared in pain, before the lion bit into his throat.

He awoke sweating, gasping to himself, he held his head in his hands, before returning to the floor, staring at the ceiling for the next few hours.