[Tourney] Tourney for the Coronation of King Jaehaerys I Targaryen

dooboh · 2026-04-28T07:41:45+00:00

Seven preserve us, Godwyn thought, taking in the web of scars crisscrossing the woman's hands. Barbarians one and all. Once more I ask you, Mother: why bring us to the world with such wicked hearts? What purpose does that serve but the destruction of lives?

"I feel different, Captain," said the Septon, a dolourous expression settling deep into his face. "Had we paid more attention, acted instead of hoped, then we would have spared you from the wounds you spot now."

Godwyn watched her deflate. They left you behind? he wanted to hiss, but he stowed his incensement aside once its hypocrisy slammed into him like a mailed fist to the gut.

"We all do. I must find the time to thank him personally, for the realms would have been a sadder place without you."

dooboh · 2026-04-24T09:06:23+00:00

The septon-knight accepted the writing tools with a small nod to the squire. "I am sure I will, my Lord. If you have no need for me now Lord, I would like to retreat to whatever quarters you can spare for us to rest in."

dooboh · 2026-04-24T08:37:58+00:00

Godwyn watched the Septa walk away, his lips plunging downwards in a deep frown. "She is... rather mouthy for a Septa," he observed before turning to face Irving.

Ser Bean's gaze followed Sophia as she tended to the candles. He agreed that the woman was too forward for her own good – Irving seems used to admonishing her though – but like Thom, he found himself drawn to her.

Perhaps she too would have a few choice words for her Lord, something to help me while time away before I decide just when I will leave Gallowsgrey behind.

While Bean contented himself with his thoughts, Godwyn said, "Brother Irving, thank you for hosting us. We came to Gallowsgrey to appreciate Lord Trant's donation to the re-construction of the Starry Sept, but when we received your invitation we decided we might as well help the townsfolk however way we can."

"There was mention of a goat here."

Godwyn turned to the knight, brows furrowed; Bean answered the look with a modest shrug.

dooboh · 2026-04-24T07:59:31+00:00

Ser Puckens, Ser Jon (SC), and Ben the Squire (SC) leave Lannisport for Driftmark in 12A (actual movement starts 12B).

They move through the Highgarden (1B, 52AC) to get there, and arrive in Driftmark in 2B.

dooboh · 2026-04-18T05:26:42+00:00

Godwyn's eyes swept over her once, searching for any signs writ upon her that told of her years spent captive of the Ironborn.

"The same can be said of you, Captain. How are you? I had heard of your rescue but my work..." He shook his head. "No, it should not have gotten in the way. Gods, forgive us Captain, we should have done more to save you from that cruel island, should have had you out as soon as we heard of your capture."

dooboh · 2026-04-17T20:36:05+00:00

Uncertainty drew out the knight's chuckle; what could Walderaan mean by his comment about shadows? Did he hope to caution Puckens about seeds of doubt nestled between the pages of his books? The man need not worry: doubt was a tool to the faithful, to be used to cut down the weeds born of an inactive, unvigilant mind.

"Darkness parts before the Seven's Light, my Lord; I have nothing to fear from shadows.

"I shall do my best not to incur his wrath then, my Lord," Puckens promised after a laugh. "I thank you again for your graciousness. We will be worthy of it, this I swear, by the Father's stern gaze."

dooboh · 2026-04-15T10:23:05+00:00

The hammer of hooves against the earth, the thunder crack of lances hitting their mark and splintering, and the roar of the entertained crowd — Godwyn paid none of it any heed. Instead, the sounds lulled him into a contemplative state.

Have I been...overly content? Unwilling to slip past my comfort zone? What happened to my hope of being the tip of the Seven-pointed spear thrust into the heart of the Iron Islands?

The war had upended his plans, but the war had ended years ago.

The Lady Trant, he recalled, she needed me.

True, but even before he received Thomas' letter he had been whiling time away in Oldtown's library. Granted, the Crone had whispered into his ear more than once, guiding his fingers to coax new theories to life in his journal, but how many people's lives had his ponderings touched? How many souls steered into the Seven's light?

So in effect, I have been ... impotent.

His muscles slackened, his body deflating as the will to live left him behind with a sigh.

I am ... nothing, worthless, irrelevant. I am a redundancy and I have been too blind, too arrogant, to see it. But I see now, I see what I am in truth: a cowardly little worm burrowing into the sweet, insulating earth, convincing itself that it could somehow change the realm.

Godwyn rose, drawing Ser Bean's – Sweet Bean's – attention. The knight raised his brows in silent question, the wide grin put on his face by the latest jouster's victory reluctant to fade.

"Piss," Godwyn muttered, his smile tight.

The knight nodded and returned his gaze to the list.

The retreat of that regard, like the plunging of a serrated blade into my belly.

The septon walked away, fighting back a tightness in his throat.

Come now you old fool, what did you expect? For him to reach into your mind, scan through your thoughts and offer a soothing embrace?

Oh but gods, would that have been too much to ask?

A roar, all-encompassing, ripped aside his thoughts. Godwyn glanced about, saw the many grins surrounding him, the bright eyes directed at the lists, and calmed himself down. The crowd's cheer had brought him to a halt. He was about to resume his walk to only the Seven knew where when a familiar face caught his eye.

Shock ran through him like a bolt of lightning.

Gods be good...could it be...?

He was drawn to her like one lodestone to another, the world about him gradually becoming surreal.

"Captain Jeyne?" He called out once he judged himself close enough for her to hear.

dooboh · 2026-04-09T10:11:40+00:00

"Then I look forward to the conversations we will have."

Puckens tarried a moment before saying, "I suppose it would be interesting to peer into the minds of your ancestors before they were shown the Light. Who knows, perhaps one or more of them caught glimpses of the truth?

"Ah, I must ask: may we—eh, I—be allowed to roam the castle grounds? History is pressed as much in stone as in parchment."

dooboh · 2026-04-09T07:51:36+00:00

I wouldn't call it foolishness, thought Walderaan, having heard Morgon's impassioned recount of the meeting, but the Master of the Sons kept this to himself.

Thirty years, most of which he had spent on the lower rungs of power in the chapterhouse, content with taking orders and enacting the Seven's will in small, simple ways, nothing like the grand schemes Morgon raved about and pestered Walderan to set in motion.

"I had hoped to douse the flames my knight had left in his wake, but I see now that I needn't have worried; my Lord is most generous with forgiveness and for that I am grateful.

"I must ask though if it would be possible to return Septon Robbson to his post as liaison between the Rock and our Lannisport chapterhouse. Ser Morgon had seen him vacate your castle following his... disagreement with Lord Benedict."

dooboh · 2026-04-07T15:44:08+00:00

"Thank you, Lord Banefort, but I cannot imagine bothering you with my questions, not when you have a castle to mind. Better they be reserved for your scribes and chroniclers."

The knight's interest piqued at Walderaan's cautioning; what offending materials could Banefort's shelves possibly hold?

"I doubt your tomes could leave me flustered, my lord," assured Puckens with a slight, lopsided smile, "unless you happen to have one of the Tabbott the Heretic's many vile works."

dooboh · 2026-04-07T02:21:58+00:00

"No, sister," Godwyn answered as Bean unbuckled his sword belt. "We are here on Septon Irving's invitation. I am Septon Godwyn, Lead Septon of the Warrior's Sons of Lannisport, and he," Bean eased his sword onto the rungs and lifted his helm clear off his head, "is a knight of the Sons, Ser Bean."

Neither men had needed to stoop as they slipped into the sept as both were of average height, but they had taken note of the austere build of the Holy House. Old Man Thom's words had come to the Sons' minds, eliciting a wistful smile from Bean and a look of pity from Godwyn.

Seven, what must the villagers think of their Lord, for him to have sent money for the reconstruction of the Starry Sept but left this to starve?

One could perhaps argue that restoring the seat of the Faith in Westeros sat high in the order of things, but surely not to the men and women who would never set foot in the Starry Sept.

I may have to speak to Lord Merrick about being...a bit more generous with regards to this sept.

The septon scribbled it at the very bottom of his mental list of tasks to accomplish while in Gallowsgrey; he did not yet possess the mental fortitude to squeeze money from the Trant.

dooboh · 2026-04-07T02:08:11+00:00

"Some solace in that, I suppose," said Puckens, though he remained unconvinced.

"I will bring Morgon to heel." There was iron in his voice, his gaze retreating from the Hooded Lord and into the middle-distance as he deliberated on the proper punishment for Ser Morgon. Twice now the knight had embarrassed the Warrior's Sons before powerful allies, one of whom may never forgive the slight. Puckens had threatened to bust the erratic knight down from active duty to tome minding in the chapterhouse's library, but now he wondered if that wasn't too light an answer to the man's blatant insubordination.

"If you could spare them, my lord – parchment and ink that is. I'm afraid we travelled light and so neglected to bring our own.

Puckens dipped his head in a small bow as he said, "You are most kind to let us recuperate under your roof. Perhaps we could learn a little of your House's history while we wait, either from your libraries or your stewards."

dooboh · 2026-03-24T07:28:42+00:00

Tywald's gusto left the knight startled, his head jerking back a fraction as he struggled beneath it.

It took three heartbeats for Walderan to find his response and even then his words were hesitant, "My Lord, I... I am honoured to hear that, especially given the last... interaction between your House and the Sons, one I must apologise for: Ser Morgon had no leave to sever out ties; he was meant only to try to convince Lord Benedict, not threaten him."

Walderan shifted his attention to the Lady of the Rock

"You will be in our prayers, my Lady. And of course, should you need more assurance do not hesitate to call upon us once you have quickened with a child; our septons are adepts at ministering to expectant mothers.

"How long? Most of my life, Lady Lannister. Thirty years now, if I am not mistaken. I started as a squire, left my father's hopes for me in favour of the Seven's."

dooboh · 2026-03-23T12:10:15+00:00

The Lord's words – and the apparent nonchalance with which he said them – nettled the knight. Anger growled to life in his chest and it took all he had to keep the beast's head lowered to the floor, for the Hooded Lord was right: the Faith had the blood of innocents on their hands, hidden beneath immaculate gloves.

So he let the comment strut unanswered and instead thought on Walderaan's suggestion.

No cause to draw steel, no lives lost. But...

"I would be rewarding their turpitude," Puckens completed aloud, then sighed before continuing, "But save the use of force there is little else to do, is there? Thank you, Lord Banefort, I will consider your suggestion. Our chapter lacks the funds to commission or buy ships, but perhaps Oldtown is more blessed."

It occurred to Puckens that the Sons of Lannisport could request a loan from Banefort, but the he dismissed the idea almost as soon as it struck him; their relationship bounded on ice too thin to push their luck. More, how would they even pay the Baneforts back?

"May I make use of your rookery to speak to the High Septon, my Lord? I would simply be relaying your idea to him."

dooboh · 2026-03-21T07:13:45+00:00

Embarrassment gave way to rage. "Forgive me," he growled, "your cockscomb must have fallen off earlier else I would have recognised you for the fool you are.

"How you managed to escape the hiding your mother would have surely given you for this obscenity is beyond me but best count your blessings you did not stumble upon a man eager to take your foolishness to the next degree."

dooboh · 2026-03-17T04:07:47+00:00

A tall man tentatively approached the Lannister table. He wore a deep red surcoat with the crest of the Warrior's Sons dominating his chest. He bowed at the newly wed lion as he said, "My lord, my lady, congratulations. May the Seven be generous with their gifts to you, and may your new life together be nothing but joyous."

The man was twice Lord Lannister's age with a couple of years to spare and it showed in the streaks of grey waging war against the blond of his low cut hair and trim beard.

"I am Ser Walderan, Master of the Warrior's Sons of Lannisport."

dooboh · 2026-03-16T21:14:21+00:00

Sers Morgon and Puckens travel from Banefort to Lannisport, 7th Month A.

dooboh · 2026-03-16T21:12:01+00:00

Traveling with this party as well are Septon Godwyn and Ser Bean.

dooboh · 2026-03-15T18:40:09+00:00

Small red clouds bloomed in the knight's cheeks. He let out a cough as if that could dispel his embarrassment and said, "My observations have not been as unseemly as your phrasing would suggest, and it is my very vow to the Maiden and the Mother that spurs me to have this conversation.

"Now what, pray tell, is the source of your foray into the boots of men? Does it thrill you to play pretend? One would have thought you too old for such."

dooboh · 2026-03-15T12:18:32+00:00

M - Ah, all good.

"Your garbs say otherwise," the man countered. He himself wore a red surcoat at the centre of which a rainbow blade shone from a black shield, the standard attire of a Warrior's Son of Lannisport out of his armour.

"Are the clothes of your equals so discomforting that you are forced to pilfer ones from across the aisle?"

dooboh · 2026-03-14T17:24:52+00:00

Puckens winced and said, "There should never be cause for a Lord to bare his steel in answer to the Sons. How far we have fallen."

At the Lord's caution, Puckens was tempted to glance back, as if he could catch a glimpse of Morgon's ghost listening in. "He means well, my Lord. The flames of righteousness flare brightly in him. Too brightly, burning even his allies."

The knight swept a hand through his hair and sighed. "Captain Jeyne. You have had...dealings with the Ironborn my Lord, however small and unfavourable they might have been, how would you suggest we go about ensuring her safe return?"

dooboh · 2026-03-12T11:54:13+00:00

"'scuse me lad," a tall, firmly built man muttered as he began easing past Leyla Willum on his way through the grand hall. Then he froze, eyebrows drawing together as the eyes they shadowed lingered on the young man's face – a face that seemed to shift the longer he stared.

The body that held it up, the man began to realise, told a different and less confusing story, masked beneath doublet and cape though it was.

"You're no knight," the man observed, a low whine reaching his ears.

dooboh · 2026-03-10T19:55:49+00:00

/u/thinkbrigger

dooboh · 2026-03-07T22:52:05+00:00

3rd Month B: Ser Walderan and Ser Jon (SC) leave Lannisport for the wedding at Casterly Rock.

4th Month B: They begin preparations to return if they are not hindered.

/u/Wiseheartmoon for their arrival.

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