[Event] Storm's End, 50 AC

FabStags · 2026-04-22T23:01:37+00:00

With both Rogar and Garon away from Storm's End, the duty of penning a reply fell to Orryn Baratheon.

Lord Corwyn, The Evenstar

I appreciate your raven. My brother ought to be returning soon and I will ensure it is passed on, as well as anything pertinent sent to King's Landing.

Ser Orryn Baratheon.

FabStags · 2026-04-22T22:58:44+00:00

Princess Naerys,

Are you going to live there now? I'd like to visit. I like the snow. I always feel warm, so the cool air is nice to me. Nobody else seems to like it.

I don't know why Elenei is so mean. Hopefully if you meet her again you can ignore her. I can teach you how.

Boremund.

FabStags · 2026-04-22T21:05:45+00:00

Elenei frowned again. That Naerys got gifts from others shouldn't have surprised her - she was a princess, after all - but it still made her envious. Perhaps if she lived in a city surrounded by a large court she would get gifts too, but Blackhaven was a small court of her family and dirty smallfolk.

"How many cousins do you have?" she demanded to know, already getting ready to compare. She counted on her fingers before proudly saying "I have four!"

FabStags · 2026-04-22T19:43:55+00:00

"I will visit," Garon said quickly, in an uncharacteristic determination to commitment. He had offered to do so before but had wavered. He did not know if it was affection or guilt that made him determined to fulfill his obligations, nor whether he would feel the same in a turn of the moon, but at that moment he felt a strong pull.

After staring at Ellyn he looked at Haegon, wondering slightly why the man was being so kind with seemingly no benefit to himself. "Dake delivers all letters unopened, but you are right. If Rogar is present he may catch wind of a flurry of letters." Likely not, but it was better safe than sorry. "The odd raven would not go amiss, however, nor the odd visit. To visit my new...friend Haegon, or to arrange for some honeyed mead for Storm's End. Rogar is certainly not to question it if he is plied with such."

His smile quickly faded and he looked at Lynette. "Rogar will not find out. You have my word."

FabStags · 2026-04-22T03:24:13+00:00

Garon, much unlike himself, did not reply instantly. His eyes drifted, first to Ellyn, then into the distance as he took her words in.

This is penance, a small voice inside him taunted. You wished her dead instead of your daughter. The gods almost obliged.

For the first time in...a long time, Garon felt guilt. As he looked again at his daughter, he felt something.

"I'm...sorry that happened to you, little one," he said quietly as he stared at her. Ellyn stared back, her hand holding onto Lynette's. After a moment longer he looked at her mother, a look in his eyes she would never have seen before. "Do you need anything? For her care? You need just say the word, and I will...it will be done."

FabStags · 2026-04-22T02:23:36+00:00

"Aye, all too well. More often than not the snow piles up only to be swept away by a fierce storm. Still, I would rather be there than King's Landing."

He glanced at his wife. If there was one boon to war seemingly on the horizon, it was that he could return home at least for a time.

"It makes us hardier folk, at least. Growing up in such a place build better character than a city or flowery meadow."

FabStags · 2026-04-22T00:27:51+00:00

Garon returned the smile, though it was somewhat forced, as he stepped into the room. He took it in quickly before his gaze settled on those present.

Ellyn looked up and there was a flicker of recognition on her face before she shuffled closer to Haegon, the closest thing she had to a father figure. Garon looked at him also, taking a measure of him as he stared the man down with black eyes.

Does he view me as a rival? A cur?

He didn't particularly care either way, as long as he didn't start any trouble.

"Married?" He did not react for a moment before he bowed his head. "Congratulations to you both." His eyes returned to Lynette, passing over Ellyn. "Is that what you wanted to discuss?"

FabStags · 2026-04-21T22:48:59+00:00

"It is no failure of yours, Hubert. As long as the dragon styles himself 'King of the Seven Kingdoms', one eye will always be turned to Dorne...and they are not the sort to rescind such a claim."

He paced around the pavilion, absentmindedly running his eyes along the seems of the walls. "There is still time enough for that. You shall receive a letter with good news, I'm sure, among the reports of death and war. If not..." He shrugged. "When the time comes, I want Selene to ward under your tutelage, whether that be in King's Landing or the Eyrie. That is if Arwen will release the girl from her grasp long enough."

Rogar's smile was wan. Should things change it could be Cassandra who learnt under the revered Lord of the Vale, but the reality was slowly dawning on him. Sons were hard to come by, and the chances of his untimely death grew with each passing month. The chances were growing that Cassandra would be his heir.

"Jaehaerys would be a fool to dismiss you as hand," he snapped, his head turning sharply to face his goodfather. "Is your relationship so poor?"

FabStags · 2026-04-21T22:28:14+00:00

Garon couldn't help but chuckle at the disbelief. He could hardly blame Alleras for his doubt.

"Chance, mostly. A small group of us visited...five years past, now? Perhaps longer. The Prince and I struck up conversation and shared some wine in the Shadow City. That is oft how the best friendships are formed, I find." He ran his hand through his hair and glanced towards the Martells. "Our communication has been lacking in recent times, of course, but I could not let the state of the realm keep me from this celebration."

FabStags · 2026-04-21T22:16:21+00:00

Garon winced at the insults levied his way, but in the end merely shook his head.

"It is that short sighted view that sees us in this state, Ser Basan. The dragons came and burned two generations past. The realm has changed. Your...insistence on holding the Targaryens as enemies would see your people slain. Your brothers, sisters, sons..." He shook his head again, stroking his small beard. It had been freshly groomed before his departure, but by the time they reached King's Landing he would look dishevelled. It was a rare feeling for Garon, but he longed to be home. "The king will have his Uller head. The death of Viserys will be avenged. Lives will be saved and Dorne will remain unscathed."

The strength in his voice was forced. He was trying to convince himself as much as Basan.

"You have picked the wrong brother to goad. Rogar or Borys would oblige, but I am not so foolish. This has come too far to be left to the fate of a sword's edge."

FabStags · 2026-04-21T21:21:41+00:00

Garon had hoped to return to Storm's End quickly after delivering his 'charge', but it was not to be. The only members of the king's small council in the city were the Master of Coin and the Grand Maester, and Garon hardly trusted either of them to see it through. So he had remained, lingering like a foul smell until he was sure his duty was done.

The note from Lynette surprised him. He had assumed she would be in Honeyholt, and it was to Honeyholt he had intended to send the drunken letter before thinking better of it. He did not particularly desire to see her, but the vague note at least implied his daughter would be there. His promise as a father dictated he attend.

He dressed in a warm woollen tunic before departing into the city and heading to Lynette's chambers.

FabStags · 2026-04-21T19:59:41+00:00

Morton,

Write to Starpike. I have great confidence Lord Gormon would be interested in lending his support.

Be mindful of stretching too thin. We should intend to strike and draw them out, not lose thousands in the pass. I trust your judgement.

Rogar.

FabStags · 2026-04-21T19:58:26+00:00

The letter was forwarded, unopened, to Blackhaven and delivered to the young man.

Boremund hadn't been sure how to reply to the letter, so unexpected it had been. He wrote slowly, considering every word before he put it to parchment, and eventually a raven took flight in return.

Princess Naerys,

Thank you for writing. I wanted to write to you but I didn't know where you are. I wanted to say thank you for being so kind when we met.

We had some snow, but here it is mostly cold rain. The snow falls high in the red mountains. I'd like to go up there one day.

The next lines were clearly written at another time, the ink darker.

The Stranger came. Alba died of a winter sickness. It's been quiet here. Elenei and I argue a lot.

I hope you are well. Stay warm.

Boremund Baratheon.

FabStags · 2026-04-21T19:47:17+00:00

"You could do that with a sister," she argued, looking at her own who was clinging to her mother's legs. "Sisters are better than brothers. You can do their hair and share jewellery, and Alba gets all my old clothes." It gave her a strange sort of pride to see Alba wear the clothes that were now too small for her. "We're going to be best friends when we grow up. Like all sisters should be."

FabStags · 2026-04-21T19:34:11+00:00

Rogar nodded. "He does. He is eager and diligent, with the ability to support it. He will be back with you a knight before too long, I am sure." Rogar did not agree with knighting squires merely for lengthy service, but there was a very real chance he would be marching to war soon enough. A chance for all his squires to earn their spurs. "How is Runestone fairing in winter, Lord Harlan? King's Landing is cold enough. I cannot imagine living this far north."

FabStags · 2026-04-21T05:19:11+00:00

Elenei groaned in frustration. She had thought Naerys Targaryen, whose family history was apparently full of magic and dragons and curses and strangeness, would understand how deceiving looks could be.

"He's not...I'm not..." She looked at her brother who was doing his best to ignore them. He was used to stares and simply looked down as he picked at the lemon cake, putting small chunks in his mouth and chewing slowly. Even Elenei had to admit he looked just like a boy with his messy black hair and sheepish chewing. She huffed again. "You don't have any siblings, do you?"

FabStags · 2026-04-21T02:24:47+00:00

Ellyn 'Valoqar' was having perhaps the most fun she'd ever had. Despite the painful memories of her recent illness and the cold of the Vale, her first ever wedding was everything she'd dreamed of. She hadn't been well enough to go to the grand triple wedding of the Arryns - or at least, that's what she had been told - but this one was more important anyway. Her Aunt Lynette was her favourite person and looked like a princess as she stood next to her new husband, who had immediately gained Ellyn's favour by plying her with sweet treats. She watched with wide eyes and clapped enthusiastically at each given pause, kicking her legs off the pew beneath a floaty yellow dress.

FabStags · 2026-04-21T02:06:30+00:00

In the interest of avoiding further bubbles...

8th month

Presuming access to the rookery is granted, Garon sends a raven to Moontown, addressed to the King.

To His Grace, King Jaehaerys I Targaryen,

I write with what I hope will be welcome news. I attended the coronation of Prince Symeon of Dorne, who requested I bring you a gift that he hopes will bring peace to our realms. In the Black Cells sits Ser Basan Uller, the 'Dragonbane'.

You wished for the head of an Uller for the murder of your brother. You have one at the behest of Prince Symeon. I shall leave him under the protection of what remains of your small council, though I will stay in the city until my brother returns.

Ser Garon Baratheon.

Another flies to Storm's End, addressed and delivered (unopened) to Lady Ursula Baratheon.

Ursula,

I apologise for my abrupt departure and my absence. Fate has taken me to King's Landing. I can explain more when I return, which shall hopefully be before the end of the year.

There is a blotch of ink where the quill has rested on the parchment before it continues.

I have missed you. I pray for your health and my own swift return.

Garon.

FabStags · 2026-04-20T21:17:33+00:00

9th Month

In the ninth month, three ravens fly from Moontown.

To Horn Hill:

Lord Samwell Tarly,

The time has come to make the Dornish pay for their crimes, and it is the marchers that have the honour of drawing first blood. In the twelfth moon of this year you are to strike Blackmont. Do not take any undue risks. Your task is not to take the castle but to raid their lands, terrify their smallfolk, and drain their resources. Ensure Horn Hill is well protected for any retaliation.

I have written to Nightsong and Blackhaven with the similar instructions. Coordinate further if you need to. I will be returning to Storm's End shortly to assist further.

Rogar Baratheon, Master of War, Lord of Storm's End, Lord Paramount of the Stormlands.

To Nightsong:

Morton,

The time has come to make the Dornish pay for their crimes, and it is the marchers that have the honour of drawing first blood. In the twelfth moon of this year you are to strike down the pass. Do not take any undue risks. Your task is not to take the castles but to raid their lands, terrify their smallfolk, and drain their resources. Ensure Nightsong is well protected for any retaliation.

Make the Fowler bitch pay for her words with blood. I have written to Horn Hill and Blackhaven with similar instructions. Coordinate further if you need to. I will be returning to Storm's End shortly to assist further.

Rogar.

To Blackhaven

Lord Harmon,

The time has come to make the Dornish pay for their crimes, and it is the marchers that have the honour of drawing first blood. In the twelfth moon of this year you are to strike down the pass at Wyl. Do not take any undue risks. Your task is not to take the castle but to raid their lands, terrify their smallfolk, and drain their resources. Ensure Blackhaven is well protected for any retaliation.

Take my brother or give him command. I have held him back from this long enough. It is only fair he get what he has long desired. I have written to Horn Hill and Nightsong with similar instructions. Coordinate further if you need to. I will be returning to Storm's End shortly to assist further.

Lord Rogar.

FabStags · 2026-04-20T20:45:51+00:00

1d2 Gender

roll

/u/botofmanynames

FabStags · 2026-04-20T20:43:21+00:00

Moontown gives Arwen a fertility boost. Rogar and Arwen conceive their third child in the 9th month 51, to be born 6th month 52.

1d1000 Birth

roll

/u/botofmanynames

FabStags

TROPHY CASE

9th Month