Ever Unbending, Ever Unbroken

[High Emperor Aggron]

Lord Fyrentes stood at the head of his table in a room with vaunted ceilings and the banner of House Fyrentes hung from the rafters as silvery light shone upon the sigil as crows cawed in the distance. Dark days ahead.. He thought as the shadow of a crow flew past the stained glass windows of Starfell casting its dark tendrils across the Great hall. Dark days indeed.. Grabbing a quill and parchment he wrote out a letter to all the lords of Westeros and Essos. The realm of Fyrentes was born again in the cold days of last summer, where leaves rusted and water ran dry. In his letter Lord Fyrentes wrote to the lords of the known world.

 

My Brothers, My Queen and My Banner,  

 

 

Winter is coming, I can see it in the air as ten score of crows gather over House Fyrentes and word from the wall exclaims that no wildling attacks have happened in months. It can only a string to a web of some intricate plan weaved by fate. I tell you surely, the days are nigh when the dead walk on the realm of Man. Who will be the sword and shield, who will stand vigil against the encroaching shadow. Pray you stay to your hearths.. Pray I am wrong.

 

Sighing as he set down the quill, Lord Fyrentes looked around his hall, silent though tens of men stood before him, first amongst these was his son, Ser Clay, a strong man of eighteen summers with thick blonde curls. He carried the family sword, "Fyr" and did so with honor. The golden plate with which was adorned diamonds and inscribed with the word of the Gods, was a testament of purity in itself. To don the plate of the heavens was to be one with the seven, and to be their instrument. My son will be a King and his sons Kings. Ser Clay was master of the Fyrentesian Army, knowing the lay of his fathers realm like a child knows his mothers voice.

 

Next amongst the men stood, Maester Haym, of Oldtown, a spry man for one such his age. He stood chest puffed in sight of his Lord. "My Lord, I shall send word to your bannermen to gather in Starfell for a feast and tourney." The tourney.. ah.. how did that slip my mind..

 

"Yes Maester Haym, at once. Send word to House Mayflower and House Svea that we wish their attendance at the tourney as well." he snapped as he quietly handed his letter to the Maester to be sent to the Lords of the Known world. The Maester stopped and quietly grabbed the letter from his Lord as he whispered in his ear, "There is word in Oldtown of the wall my Lord"

 

 

Oldtown is due for a visit before the tourney I believe..

Edited September 16, 2013 by High Emperor Aggron

[High Emperor Aggron]

Harrowed Halls.

 

Gedrick Stoneson sat in the chilling august air overlooking the realm of Svea and Veynan from the Mountains of Red, as he breathed out and his breath fogged as he exhaled. His company 'The Stonesons' had been camping in the Mountains of Red following their disgrace at the seige of Godsgrace, where they retreated abandoning Ragnar Buliwyf. Whether he wa spiting this was only known to Gedrick's daemons, He still rose and served House Fyrentes though it was easily discerned he did so with a bitter heart.

 

He turned back and sat down with his company as they broke bread and drank to the good life ahead. As he craned his head back to drain the last swig of dornish drink, the sun was blotted out. To his disbelief a murder of crows ten thousand strong cawed overhead as they flew north. Ill omens.. He thought as he readjusted his sword belt. Ill omens indeed. Standing up Gedrick paced around the summit camp, the distant caw of the crows fading as it passed into the realm of Veynan, when a sharp caw rang from a nearby willow, the only tree that had grown here on the mountain and awkwardly so. A crow with the sigil of Fyrentes etched into it's beak sat there, a note to its leg.

 

"Captain Stoneson,

 

By order of your Lord Fyrentes, you are to rouse your men and meet with Ser Clay, Marshal of the Fyrentesian Realm and march north to Kings' Landing."

 

"Ha.. I'll be damned." he snorted walking over to Hoval, his second in command. "Get the men ready, we're going to Starfell then to Kings' Landing. We have two weeks." The curt nod on Hoval's face was all Gedrick needed to know that the Stonesons' would be on the move momentarily.

 

This time with the Marshal of the Fyrentesian Realm.

 

 

(ooc) not done

Edited September 16, 2013 by High Emperor Aggron

[Triyun]

A raven would be returned, bearing the seal of the of House Dracon-Trestamari, on it was the writing of the Lord Protector of the Realm and King Consort, Tygett Dracon.

 

 

Lord Juri,

 

It is with grave concern that the Court has received your letter about the situation to the North.  You are indeed wise to warn of such threats, and indeed I can assure you that the Queen, the Small Council, and our commanders are most impressed with such foresight.  

 

Such initiative must be rewarded, and indeed it shall be.  I therefore summon you immediately along with 2000 of your best mounted knights and your son who I understand has become quite the warrior to King's Landing to enjoy the hospitality of our halls and prepare to form the core force of a reconnaissance mission beyond the wall to probe for such dire threats if indeed there are any. We also extend the honor for the rest of your family coming North to King's Landing to enjoy the fabled scenery of the capitals beauty.  My I congratulate you on this great honor.  

 

Signed,

 

Tygett Dracon, Lord Protector of the Realm, King Consort, and Warden of the West

Edited September 16, 2013 by Triyun

[High Emperor Aggron]

Upon receiving the crow in Starfell a raven would be sent back to Tygett Dracon.
 

King-Consort Tygett,

 

 

Aye, we'll be arrived in two weeks' time with two-thousand men. I've sent a raven to my Bannerman Lord Buliwyf to raise two-thousand swords as well. I of House Fyrentes thank you for bestowing such an honor to my House. We shall not fail you.

 

When the raven faded into the distance, Juri sighed heavily as he put on his golden plate. The same craftsmanship plate that was made for his son, had crafted for himself. As he fitted the straps a sense of pride swelled inside his chest, picking up his greatsword Godbreaker he turned to his mirror. My death is my own to write He thought as he cut his palm on the edge of his blade, a symbolic ritual done by all Fyrentesian Soldiers before a campaign. Turning to the cold noon outside he walked to the balcony from his room and looked around to Fyrentes. Ever Unbending, Ever Unbroken.

 

I see them... They're all burning..

[High Emperor Aggron]

Harrowed Halls

 

Lord Fyrentes sat in his great hall surrounded by the twelve Knights of the Fyrentesian realm. The thirteen men were girded in uniformed warplate, so telling Juri from his Knights was impossible. As the sun faded beyond the horizon the thirteen drew their swords, hoisting them aloft.

 

"My brothers, the realm of Fyrentes shall be unto itself. We will serve the seven and be keepers of the mountain. We will stand vigil over the shadow and we shall be a bulwark unto the flames of hell itself." Lord Fyrentes smiled at the thought, strapping Godbreaker to his armour and marching towards the courtyard. With a mighty heave he shoved the giant steel doors open. He was met by the roar of his army, mustered by the Marshal Ser Clay, as far as the eye could see. The thirteen marched out of the Great hall to stand before all of Fyrentes. Ser Clay kneeled before his father who graciously laid his hands onto Clays pauldrons as a soft smile leapt onto his fathers face.

 

"My son, with whom I am well pleased. You shall ride north with the Bladian sect and Buliwyf house" Clay nodded as his father bid him to rise and stand at his right hand. Before his realm Juri drew Gobdbreaker and thrust it into the air, the knights followed his manner and all the heavens looked down upon Fyrentes with their favor as Ser Clay and the troops marched away from the capital to their duty. Hana, daughter of Lord Fyrentes, stood at the side of her father with mixed emotions as her brother Ser Clay marched north. The day was dead and night set in with cold darts piercing the Fyrentesian Realm like arrows of ice. A lone crow cawed from the bell tower seemingly at Hana. Mind your daemons, lest you surrender yourself.. She thought turning away to the keep and her hand maidens who skirted her away from the chilling air around Starfell. Juri Fyrentes stood on the marble cornerstone watching the men march off. The iced mist escaping his lungs made him shudder as he thought about what lay beyond the wall. None the matter.. Let winter come..  He said aloud sheathing Godbreaker and leaning hard against a standing column. Dreams caught hold of him fast as his spirit flitted away to the spirit world, where he stood in front It. Sweat beaded on his forehead, as he slowly reached for Godbreaker, and It came on, hissing whispers of dread and fire into Fyrentes' mortal mind. Like wet cloth, Godbreaker eviscerated It leaving a panting Fyrentes and a shadow that faded into non-existence cackling evil praises as it went.

 

They'll burn like wildfire.. I come to reap what I've sown.

 

Juri awoke with a start and shout, his bed sheets soaked with sweat from the night terror and the bitter struggle he had against it. Standing onto the cold stone floors he walked out into the silvery twilight of night that laid over the world, rubbing his eyes. A lone figure stood in the courtyard below, masked by shadows and bound in fear.

 

"Guards! Arrest that man!" Shouted the star-struck Lord only to be refuted when the guards arrived to see nothing where their Lord had seen a figure. Embarrassed, and dismayed Lord Fyrentes turned back to his bed where a naked concubine bid him rest with her.

 

The day won't save you.. and I am the night.

Edited September 17, 2013 by High Emperor Aggron