Psyker Landshark

A Song of Ice and Fire - the Blackfyre Rebellion

Lord Talbert Tarly

Two weeks prior...

A knock on the door. "You wanted to see me, Father?" His son's voice resonated from the entrance.

"Enter." Talbert replied curtly, seated at his desk. He looked up from his ledgers, nodding to his son, Samwyle. "Sit. Drink." The lord of Horn Hill gestured to a chair placed in front of his desk, as well as a goblet of wine in front of the seat.

Samwyle did so without delay, reaching for the cup as soon as he sat down. He met his sip of wine with appreciation and a raised eyebrow in question. "Arbor red? What's the occasion, Father?" What went unsaid was how his usual taste of wine in private was far more reserved, typically favoring more local vintages than the finest the Arbor had to offer.

"For you." Talbert said simply, raising his own goblet in a brief toast before taking slow sips. "You've proven yourself as an able combatant, leader of men, and my heir. Were I to die now, I would hold no hesitation in leaving Heartsbane to you." Such praise from the man was rare. Which only served to have Samwyle bracing for the inevitable comedown. "As such, I've taken the liberty of finally arranging a wife for you. Gorlois Redwyne has agreed to have you be betrothed to his youngest daughter, Odette. I'm told she's the fairest of all his daughters, and his favorite. It's a great honor for you." He passed the letter in question that confirmed Lord Gorlois's approval for the match over to Samwyle.

Samwyle stared at his father for a moment in mute silence, with Talbert inwardly waiting for him to get over his shock and get on with the matter. "Father, I..." He stared down at the letter he was given, reading it over for a few moments before looking it back up. "She's fifteen? That's younger than Mina."

Talbert raised an eyebrow. "She is of age. Or would you rather I find you a child bride? Is that what you're saying?" He challenged, to his son's immediate denial.

"Of course not!"

"Then you should have no problems with the matter. Of course, your dalliances will come to an immediate end. I'll not have you dishonoring your wife-to-be, our pending alliances with the Redwynes, and our good name. I tolerated such when you were a bachelor and barely a man. Now that you've matured and have a betrothal, the time for these things is over."

Samwyle looked as if he was going to protest, but thought better of it and nodded. "I...understand. Thank you for your lenience, Father."

Talbert's expression softened in response, but only slightly. To anyone who didn't know him better, it would seem his stoic demeanor hadn't cracked at all. "I understand this is a sudden change, son. But you've proven yourself as a man. I wouldn't have begun making these arrangements for you had you been a disappointment. I did as much as I could to secure a good match for you as well. The girl is reportedly a beauty, and you'll be meeting her soon." Samwyle's head shot up at his father's next words. "You've heard of Prince Maekar's upcoming tourney at Summerhall? We'll be attending."

"You despise these, though." Was Samwyle's only response. "What was it you said the last time I wanted to attend one? 'Wasteful pageantry that ill-prepared men for real battle'? Of course, I didn't understand until after I joined you on campaign."

"It still is. But the Redwynes wish for you and Lady Odette to meet there. Get to know one another. It seems they're as intent for this to be a good match as I am. Which indicates that Lord Gorlois's glowing words of praise about his daughter may not be as empty as I fear. Mina will be coming with us as well. It's about time that a match be made for her, and there will be many lords in attendance. Your mother will remain behind to watch over Victor and manage the day-to-day affairs of Horn Hill." He took another sip of Arbor red, as if to marshal his thoughts.

"Does this mean...?" Samwyle's voice carried hope in its tone, to which Talbert nodded.

"Indeed. You'll compete in the lists. Quite frankly, you care more than I do of your performance in that mummer's farce. But both of us will enter the melee. We both know where your real strengths are, and there's no shame in such. Though I imagine you'll want to impress your bride-to-be, regardless." The ruler of Horn Hill rose from his seat, making his way over to his son and placing a hand on his shoulder. "You will do House Tarly proud. I know this." Samwyle smiled up at him as he finished his wine. "Now, be off with you. I imagine you've your own affairs to take care of before we leave in a few days."

As Samwyle left the solar, Talbert turned his attention to another letter he'd be reading before. This one marked with the seal of House Bracken. Daemon Blackfyre was to be the one to champion their aspirations and grievances, then. Very well. He'd have Maekar's tourney to take the bastard's measure. Talbert rolled the letter up and fed it into the flames of his hearth, unwilling to chance risk of discovery even from otherwise vague and benign words.

Pokemon: Ascendancy

Fiona MacConnell

Fiona's face betrayed nothing at Chairman Hyacinth's words, even as several other Gym Leaders, her friends among them, raged and seethed. What a shitshow this turned out to be, really. She shot sympathetic glances towards Astrid, Mika, Bianca, Nordrin, and Hestia as they all left in turn, but made no move to get up herself. As every other Gym Leader filed out, Fiona casually finished off her bottle of water, staring Hyacinth down until the last Leader left.

"Make what call ya think's best, boss." Fiona finally stood up to leave, seemingly unbothered by all the furor and commotion. "An' I'll do tha same. Let's be honest here, though, I dinnae give two shites about any 'severe punishment'. Go on, fire my fine arse. I'll run off tae Kalos, heard they might have some openings soon. Wouldn't that be a coup fer them an' an embarassment fer you?" She gave a jaunty, mocking wave as she turned to leave.

"Don't worry yer head off too much, though. I got no intention of fuckin' with tha coppers' investigation." What went unsaid, of course, was whether or not she'd be undergoing one of her own. As Fiona sauntered out the door, her smile faded and she pulled her phone out, already pulling up her contacts list and firing off one text after another. She'd made quite a few friends during her post-Challenge career before she took up this Gym Leader gig, and it was time for all that to start paying off.

Blades of Iron Roses: An Anime-Inspired Knight RP

Renar Hagen

Finally, finally, they'd reach the camp of this so-called Bandit King. By the time Jeremiah's camp came into view, Renar was practically chomping at the bit in his own mind to dive into the fray. They'd been waiting long enough, and the previous batch of bandits had proved to be poor sport overall. That's all this was: sport. And a bit of pest control. These men had signed their own death warrants the moment they committed themselves to pillage and plunder as a way of life. There was no pity afforded to them, only contempt for their choices.

As the Knight-Captain began to call for the Iron Rose to separate into three assault groups, Renar joined the second, led by Paladin Tyaethe, simply because she'd been the closest to his proximity. Hopefully, she'd dive into the heaviest fighting. He simply nodded in response to her standing orders to focus on the two largest threats should they appear. It was sensible, and it guaranteed that he'd have his shot at the biggest targets among this lot. All in all, just fine for him.

___

The assault began, and Renar charged alongside his group, his poleaxe lowered to prepare for a thrust. He ran a good distance away from Tyaethe, trusting that she was more than able to make short work of anything in her immediate vicinity. Instead, the bastard of Brias was a good distance away, the tip of his weapon already thrusting into a bandit's neck.

A well-armed bandit in a coat of plates and bearing a halberd counter-charged, and Renar frowned beneath his helm's faceplate as he turned to meet the attack. The bandit had longer reach with his halberd, and if he knew what he was doing, it'd be a problem. Hopefully, he hadn't trained as extensively in the polearm-to-polearm counters as Renar had. Said halberd-bearing bandit raised his weapon and swung down. His first mistake. Renar narrowly evaded the downward swing and thrust his poleaxe down himself, locking the haft of the bandit's weapon beneath his own.

With the bandit taken by surprise from the counter, Renar raised his left foot and stomped down on the halberd's head, keeping it locked in place. He drew his poleaxe back and thrust it straight into the man's unprotected face, killing him instantly as his poleaxe tip pierced the bandit's brain.

Comparatively, the next few bandits to come before him fell much easier, all dying in single strokes, slashes, and thrusts. Oh, these men were experienced and decently-equipped, to be sure. But he hadn't been obsessively training day in and day out for nothing. That, and Renar had faced down orc warbands with parity in numbers before. Compared to those memories, these men didn't amount to much.

"This is actually growing concerning." Renar murmured to anyone in his immediate vicinity who could hear him as he withdrew the spiked butt of his poleaxe from a bandit's torso. "This Bandit King is hemorrhaging men, and yet he's still not made a move."

Bible of Ichor: Septet for the Dead

Dragan Meszaros

Dragan merely kept his head bowed as he received his orders, waiting for Ichor's light to disperse before he dared stand once more. As he did, the Death Knight contemplated the directives they'd all been given. Head west, and resurrect the seven vampire lords in the Queen's service before bringing back the Queen herself. Understandable goals. If the current group had all been brought back to life, it stood to reason the same could be done for the greatest among their number.

Of course, there were some that Dragan would have preferred not be brought back, but a command from the Goddess was inviolatable. The Blight Lord and the Sanguine Regent were stains upon their shared race as a whole, but their abilities and knowledge were invaluable. No matter his opinion, though, what was left of the paladin inside of Dragan drove him to follow Ichor's decree. Even he could see the logic in bringing them back, and if what he assumed of the crusade had been true, vampires had been all but wiped out until their recent rise.

"Westward, then." Dragan murmured as he placed his helm back atop his head, turning to exit the balcony. He turned back towards the others. "For those of you that just joined us, Lady Ilena is already bearing the heart that the Goddess mentioned. It ought to be safe in her care until the time comes for it to be used."

Blades of Iron Roses: An Anime-Inspired Knight RP

Renar Hagen

As soon as the wounded bandit finished giving Fanilly his information, Renar dropped the wineskin into his lap and patiently waited for the man to guzzle down the contents. Given the choice, he'd seriously debate whether or not to actually waste wine on a soon-to-be dead man, but he was also within the presence of both his captain and a comrade, so breaking his given word wasn't exactly a wise option at the moment.

Regardless, as the bandit dropped the now-emptied wine skin with a belch, Renar nodded to him, hefting his poleaxe up.

"Ready to see the Lamplighters, then?" He asked casually, as if discussing the state of the weather. The bandit only snorted in response.

"You mocking me, Sir Knight? We both know there ain't no light, the way I'm headed."

Renar only inclined his head at that, conceding the point before swinging down, taking the man's head clean off with the ax blade. With that settled, he saluted Fanilly before turning away and rejoining his fellows.

Or at least, he would have if Paladin Tyaethe hadn't suddenly roped him into...piling up bodies? Seriously? Renar knew that she had certain tenets to adhere to as an anointed knight of the church, but now? He supposed that it was something to do while they were waiting for the scouts, but it still felt like a waste of time.

Regardless, he complied with the order and started lugging bodies along, grumbling to himself in dissatisfaction, to which anyone nearby him also dragging bodies would hear as well.

A Song of Ice and Fire - the Blackfyre Rebellion

House Tarly

House Tarly of Horn Hill

First in Battle

House Description:
An old noble house with blood dating back to the Age of Heroes, House Tarly is blessed by rich lands, deep forests, and a legacy of martial might. For ages, the lords of Horn Hill have stood as a cornerstone of the Reach's military might, able to call up several thousand swords and possessed of several great generals and warriors throughout their lineage. The fertile farmland surrounding their seat of Horn Hill ensures that the house suffers very few shortages of supplies and funds, as the land's fruits find easy sale in the markets of Oldtown, but a hundred leagues away.

Being placed just north of the Dornish Marches, Horn Hill stands as one of the Reach's foremost keeps in defense against the Dornish to the south.

Recent History:
In the years following the ascension of Daeron II to the Iron Throne, many marcher lords of both the Reach and the Stormlands have grown increasingly discontent with the growing influence of the Dornish at court in King's Landing. One of the foremost among these discontent houses is House Tarly, which has grown ever more distant in recent years to the point where its head of house wed a marcher Stormlander lady over furthering an alliance with other Reach families. Affairs between the Tarlys and other Reach houses have been tense as a result, with a possible betrothal of the house heir with another Reach family possibly alleviating matters.

Family Members:

• Lord Talbert Tarly, Lord of Horn Hill (42)
• Lady Cassandra Tarly (nee Selmy) (38)
• Ser Samwyle Tarly, Heir to Horn Hill (21)
• Lady Mina Tarly, first and only daughter of Lord Talbert (16)
• Rand and Victor Tarly, second and third sons of Lord Talbert (13, 6)

---

Lord Talbert Tarly

Lord Talbert Tarly

Age: 42 (Born 160 AC)

Appearance:
Strong and tall, standing at approximately 6'4" with broad shoulders and a muscular build. The lord of Horn Hill is harsh and lean despite his wealth and status, his eyes never fully trusting. His dirty blonde hair and beard are somewhat lengthy, but remain well-groomed when the occasion allows.

Typically wears linens and leathers lined with furs hunted from his own lands. Will occasionally consent to being seen in rich silks for when dealing with high lords and potential visits to the royal court.

Favors a set of full plate in combat, along with a crested greathelm over his head. Wears a surcoat bearing House Tarly's arms and colors over his plate. Wields the Valyrian steel greatsword Heartsbane on foot, but bears lance and morningstar while on horseback.

Description & biography:
Talbert of House Tarly was born into the world fatherless and as the lord of Horn Hill, as his father, elder brother, and uncles had all perished during the conquest and occupation of Dorne. As a result, he was forced to grow up quickly throughout his childhood in order to regain control over his territory and his family's bannermen as quickly as possible. The young lord proved to be a canny fighter and able student as he grew and matured, taking easily to matters of the battlefield and of administrating his lands. By the age of sixteen, Talbert was knighted after proving himself in battle against Dornish mountain raiders, and took up the mantle of lord of Horn Hill in true, along with his ancestral Valyrian steel blade, Heartsbane.

Given that the occupation of Dorne robbed Talbert of his family and his childhood, he grew up with a deep dislike of his southern neighbors, especially as mountain raiders continued to harass the borders of the Marches. In preparation for what he believed to be an inevitable war against Dorne within his lifetime, Talbert sought to strengthen ties among his fellow marcher lords, Reachmen and Stormlanders alike. To this end, he went so far as to take a Stormlander wife of House Selmy. As of the current day, the union has produced four children and has been rather happy, despite being a political match.

Outside of the marches, Talbert has recently managed to arrange a betrothal between his son and heir Samwyle with the youngest daughter of Gorlois Redwyne. Having heard of Aegon IV's bestowment of Blackfyre upon his legitimized bastard Daemon, part of Talbert's curiosity over the upcoming Tournament of Summerhall is to see the man in action. Both he and Samwyle plan to compete, with the rest of their immediate family in attendance as well so that both the Tarlys and Redwynes can evaluate each other before the betrothal is signed.

Ser Samwyle Tarly

Ser Samwyle Tarly

Age: 21 (Born 181 AC)

Appearance:
While not as tall as his father, standing at "only" 6'2", Samwyle's muscles and build are equally as developed as the elder warrior's. His hair is a slightly darker brown, inherited from his mother. Samwyle carries himself with a warm demeanor, attempting to resemble a perfect knight, chivalrous and courteous.

In battle, Samwyle wears the same unadorned plate and Tarly surcoat that knights of his family tend to prefer, with a green-plumed armet atop his head. He bears lance, bastard sword, and shield as his armaments.

Description & biography:
Samwyle Tarly emerged into the world with two firm, yet fair parents, and spent his childhood attempting to live up to their expectations of him. He was educated in and excelled at his studies of administration, politics, and war while squiring for his grandmother's family, the Fossoways. Ser Samwyle was knighted at the age of seventeen after proving himself in helping to drive off a band of outlaws alongside several knights of the Reach.

While Samwyle doesn't share his father's near-obsessive dislike of the Dornish as a whole, he defers to the man's judgement in matters of politics, acknowledging that at the very least, Dorne is given too much preferential treatment by the throne. On the field, Samwyle is just as able a swordsman on foot as his father, who is already one of the greatest knights of the Reach. Some even say that the heir to Horn Hill has already exceeded his father's swordsmanship. However, he isn't quite as able on horseback. While an adept rider, Samwyle is no champion jouster.

Bible of Ichor: Septet for the Dead

Dragan Meszaros

Dragan frowned at the thrall's response, turning away to let Luna do as she would with her. If the poor woman truly had no desires of her own left, then she would continue to serve. As a bewitched minion of a siren, no doubt. But he could not defend the wishes of a thrall that had no such thing. Just as the door opened and Ichor's voice began to be heard, Dragan noted the arrival of yet three more vampires out of the corner of his eye.

The newcomers were, at the very least, somewhat familiar to him. The ambassador, the ice princess, and the cleric of the blood lily. Over the course of his unlife, he'd either met or heard of each of them enough to recognize all three by sight. Each was at least respectable in some way, perhaps moreso than either of the other two vampires he'd been accompanying. By reputation, at least. In practice, things could be entirely different.

Regardless, Dragan nodded towards the newcomers, removing his helm as he turned towards the door.

"Welcome, compatriots. It seems you're just in time to hear what the Goddess wills for us. Shall we?" With little more said, he followed Ilena through the door and onto the balcony, kneeling before the light.

"Command us, Goddess Ichor. We are your swords, to do with as you will."

A Song of Ice and Fire - the Blackfyre Rebellion

House Tarly

House Tarly of Horn Hill

First in Battle

House Description:
An old noble house with blood dating back to the Age of Heroes, House Tarly is blessed by rich lands, deep forests, and a legacy of martial might. For ages, the lords of Horn Hill have stood as a cornerstone of the Reach's military might, able to call up several thousand swords and possessed of several great generals and warriors throughout their lineage. The fertile farmland surrounding their seat of Horn Hill ensures that the house suffers very few shortages of supplies and funds, as the land's fruits find easy sale in the markets of Oldtown, but a hundred leagues away.

Being placed just north of the Dornish Marches, Horn Hill stands as one of the Reach's foremost keeps in defense against the Dornish to the south.

Recent History:
In the years following the ascension of Daeron II to the Iron Throne, many marcher lords of both the Reach and the Stormlands have grown increasingly discontent with the growing influence of the Dornish at court in King's Landing. One of the foremost among these discontent houses is House Tarly, which has grown ever more distant in recent years to the point where its head of house wed a marcher Stormlander lady over furthering an alliance with other Reach families. Affairs between the Tarlys and other Reach houses have been tense as a result, with a possible betrothal of the house heir with another Reach family possibly alleviating matters.

Family Members:

• Lord Talbert Tarly, Lord of Horn Hill (42)
• Lady Cassandra Tarly (nee Selmy) (38)
• Ser Samwyle Tarly, Heir to Horn Hill (21)
• Lady Mina Tarly, first and only daughter of Lord Talbert (16)
• Rand and Victor Tarly, second and third sons of Lord Talbert (13, 6)

---

Lord Talbert Tarly

Lord Talbert Tarly

Age: 42 (Born 160 AC)

Appearance:
Strong and tall, standing at approximately 6'4" with broad shoulders and a muscular build. The lord of Horn Hill is harsh and lean despite his wealth and status, his eyes never fully trusting. His dirty blonde hair and beard are somewhat lengthy, but remain well-groomed when the occasion allows.

Typically wears linens and leathers lined with furs hunted from his own lands. Will occasionally consent to being seen in rich silks for when dealing with high lords and potential visits to the royal court.

Favors a set of full plate in combat, along with a crested greathelm over his head. Wears a surcoat bearing House Tarly's arms and colors over his plate. Wields the Valyrian steel greatsword Heartsbane on foot, but bears lance and morningstar while on horseback.

Description & biography:
Talbert of House Tarly was born into the world fatherless and as the lord of Horn Hill, as his father, elder brother, and uncles had all perished during the conquest and occupation of Dorne. As a result, he was forced to grow up quickly throughout his childhood in order to regain control over his territory and his family's bannermen as quickly as possible. The young lord proved to be a canny fighter and able student as he grew and matured, taking easily to matters of the battlefield and of administrating his lands. By the age of sixteen, Talbert was knighted after proving himself in battle against Dornish mountain raiders, and took up the mantle of lord of Horn Hill in true, along with his ancestral Valyrian steel blade, Heartsbane.

Given that the occupation of Dorne robbed Talbert of his family and his childhood, he grew up with a deep dislike of his southern neighbors, especially as mountain raiders continued to harass the borders of the Marches. In preparation for what he believed to be an inevitable war against Dorne within his lifetime, Talbert sought to strengthen ties among his fellow marcher lords, Reachmen and Stormlanders alike. To this end, he went so far as to take a Stormlander wife of House Selmy. As of the current day, the union has produced four children and has been rather happy, despite being a political match.

Outside of the marches, Talbert has recently managed to arrange a betrothal between his son and heir Samwyle with the youngest daughter of Gorlois Redwyne. Having heard of Aegon IV's bestowment of Blackfyre upon his legitimized bastard Daemon, part of Talbert's curiosity over the upcoming Tournament of Summerhall is to see the man in action. Both he and Samwyle plan to compete, with the rest of their immediate family in attendance as well so that both the Tarlys and Redwynes can evaluate each other before the betrothal is signed.

Ser Samwyle Tarly

Ser Samwyle Tarly

Age: 21 (Born 181 AC)

Appearance:
While not as tall as his father, standing at "only" 6'2", Samwyle's muscles and build are equally as developed as the elder warrior's. His hair is a slightly darker brown, inherited from his mother. Samwyle carries himself with a warm demeanor, attempting to resemble a perfect knight, chivalrous and courteous.

In battle, Samwyle wears the same unadorned plate and Tarly surcoat that knights of his family tend to prefer, with a green-plumed armet atop his head. He bears lance, bastard sword, and shield as his armaments.

Description & biography:
Samwyle Tarly emerged into the world with two firm, yet fair parents, and spent his childhood attempting to live up to their expectations of him. He was educated in and excelled at his studies of administration, politics, and war while squiring for his grandmother's family, the Fossoways. Ser Samwyle was knighted at the age of seventeen after proving himself in helping to drive off a band of outlaws alongside several knights of the Reach.

While Samwyle doesn't share his father's near-obsessive dislike of the Dornish as a whole, he defers to the man's judgement in matters of politics, acknowledging that at the very least, Dorne is given too much preferential treatment by the throne. On the field, Samwyle is just as able a swordsman on foot as his father, who is already one of the greatest knights of the Reach. Some even say that the heir to Horn Hill has already exceeded his father's swordsmanship. However, he isn't quite as able on horseback. While an adept rider, Samwyle is no champion jouster.

ASOIAF - Fire and Blood

New or old, you're welcome either way. Very happy to see people interested.

Seems to be going between the Dance and Blackfyre Rebellion - then it begs the question whether we want dragons to be living still or dead. I'll have a think on it.

@Sini

Thinking on it further, I think I'll shift my vote to the Blackfyre Rebellion specifically. As cool as the Dance is, it's hampered by the fact that Valyrians pretty much shove everyone else to the side since they're pretty much the only ones that can ride dragons.

ASOIAF - Fire and Blood

Expressing interest. Preference-wise, I'm a fan of both the Dance and the Blackfyre Rebellion, so I'd be fine with either.