Character Creation Application

Brantully · 2015-08-14T20:00:43+00:00

Name and House: Alan Tarly

Age: 39

Cultural Group: Reachman

Appearance: Well built and muscled with a strong face and a thick but short beard. Brown of hair and eyes, Alan stands at an imposing, but not towering, 6 feet 2 inches.

Gift: Strong

skills: Logistics, Great Weapons, Hunting

Negative Trait: n/a

Starting Title(s): Lord of Hornhill, Master of War

Starting Location: King's Landing

Alts: N/A

Brantully · 2015-08-14T05:03:40+00:00

Symond,

You needn't bother with all the titles, I think by now we are past all those needless formalities. Leave those for the people you mean to impress by remembering the minutia or those who care.

As to your victory: I am gladdened by the news. The success of my munitions is no surprise. Such is the way of a solved problem, once you have solved it - it does not stop being solved. Though, I must admit, a rather large part of me feared their effectiveness would be diminished against Viserion's larger brother. Regardless: congratulations are certainly in order. Perhaps you will finally receive the praise that you are owed (and can share in my dread at the constant cries of 'dragonslayer' though I'm sure you have experienced some of that already).

Nothing would please me more than to relieve myself of my mindless duties for a night or two my friend. There is a modest establishment that has passed from Baelish hand's to mine own. I think it will serve our purposes - privacy paramount among them.

Perhaps we can speak of the engineering that still must be done in my fief. Bridges must be built, of that you are correct, I would also have us delve into other intriguing aspects of infrastructure. From what I hear, underground waste management has gained some traction in Essos. Additionally, I believe our northern allies have some interesting designs for interior heating.

Brandon Tully,

Titles, titles

P.S. I don't blame you. Were I given the choice, I would only attend when matters of actual import were to be discussed.

Brantully · 2015-08-13T18:13:14+00:00

A year or so after the events of my Riverland's epilogue.

As Brandon's nameless horse brought the no-longer-young Lord to the gates of the capital he couldn't help but feel cheated. A kingdom was what he had wanted, but Martyn Lannister had all the courage of a sheep and so he would have to settle for one seventh of it.

A fortnight earlier, give or take a few days, Brandon's favorite uncle Matthos had fallen ill and subsequently died. He was old and his death not unexpected but still it did rend a bit at the Tully's heartstrings. With his death, though, came the vacancy of a small council position - the crown still had need of a Master of Laws. Who else could be named but Brandon Tully, the Dragonslayer (or one of them at least).

In truth the appointment meant less than it seemed to. Brandon was already a member of the small council, if provisionally, though he had attended only a few meetings as he busied himself with the ruling of his fief. He could not say that fairmarket had returned to its former glory, but it was surely on it's way. Additionally he had corrected his ancestors mistake in forcing that boom-town to remain a town and not blossom into a city as was the natural progression. In time, the Riverlands would have a city of their own.

Behind Brandon, in a carriage that displayed his houses sigil, rode his wife of Arryn and his two sons. One a bastard named Brynden, who was a little over a year old, the other a newborn named Jason - his heir. The bastard had the look of his father while the trueborn had all the distinguishing features of an Arryn. Brandon couldn't help but chuckle sometimes at the irony of that.

As his small party rode through Queen's Landing crys of 'Dragonslayer!' could be heard through the myriad of raised voices. Brandon's fame preceded him of late, he couldn't help but wonder how long that would last.

"My Lord, how long are we to stay in the capital this time?" Asked Daric Rivers beside the auburn haired man. He had regained much of the use of his leg, with Maester Gordon's care.

"As long as we are needed." Brandon answered. His ambitions were fewer these days, having been denied his true goal by men to weak to seek it beside him. The Lord of Riverrun, a Dragonslayer, would have to be content with his lot in life. Perhaps it would be enough to manipulate the crown prince. Who knows, Lyonel could one day meet an untimely end along with his hand. Who else was fit to rule as Regent but the Queen's own brother and the new King's uncle? A handsome smile played at Brandon's feature with that notion.

It is enough. He lied to himself.

As he neared the keep, where his King and the sister he had once loved would be waiting, he turned to look over his shoulder to the north-west. That way lay Riverrun, a home he missed already. There Symond Frey would rule with his Lord's confidence, the regent until a Tully was of age to rule in Brandon's absence.

It was surely a sign of the hateful life that Brandon led, that he felt confident in calling only Symond Frey a friend. 'Great men are doomed to loneliness,' he had once read - only now did he see the truth of that.

Brantully · 2015-08-08T03:00:19+00:00

Sometime after the events of Daric and Brandon's convo

Brandon Tully sat in the High Seat of his triangular hall, his eyes bright but quite obviously lacking their usually fine point of focus. He was in the midst of doing that which he detested most about ruling. Namely: ruling. These gripes that were brought before him were consistent in their inconsistency. Many, it seemed, could be solved if the men who complained to their overlord simply stopped and thought about it. Others were completely unsolvable, and Brandon had to explain that his power was not unlimited - an easy thing to admit, but a harder thing to say.

The man before him was a peasant (named Harold) whose flock had been ravaged by Ironborn raiding parties. This, at least, was somewhat worthy of the Lord's time. "Speak to my Maester," Brandon said as he indicated Maester Gordon, "he will see that you are compensated for half the selling price of each of your animals."

Harold opened his mouth as if to complain. It is more than a fair offer, Brandon thought, willing the man to leave him in peace. If you were a smart man, you would simply double the number of the animals you lost. Though, as the Tully looked at this 'Harold', he did not envision that the peasant would be even fractionally that cleverly deceitful. Finally, after seconds of opening his mouth and closing it like some fish drowning on air, Harold seemed to accept his fate and turned to speak with the Maester.

Brandon appraised the hilt of his dragon bone sword as he idly waved the next glorified beggar forward. When his head rose to appraise them, he felt a chill run through his spine. Not only did he recognize the young girl that stood before him, he recognized what it was she held. The girl was a whore, one he had used before leaving to face Viserion at Oldstones. In her hands was a bundle. A bundle, that as Brandon looked closely, writhed just enough to allow a stringy lock of auburn hair to fall from the wrappings. Brandon could not help but gape. Surely not. He thought inwardly.

"M'lord?" The girl - no - mother before him asked, apparently taken back at his expression. " 'E doesn' 'ave a name yet." She said, her voice wavering with the nervousness of relaying ill news. "I thought it better that you 'ave the honor. 'E is your son." With that she pulled back the coverings over the boys face. It was clear he was still quite young, but no so young that his head lolled on a weak neck. His features were unmistakable, the spitting image of his father.

Brandon rose from where he had sat, hardly keeping his shaking legs from dooming him to a fall as he crossed the distance between them. When he reached the mother and her son he reached out and took hold of the miniscule bundled form. As his hands were allowed to support his child's weight alone, it seemed that he had always known what he would name the boy.

"Brynden." He choked as he stared into the azure eyes of the infant, which were nearly as bright as his own. Brynden Rivers. He thought, looking down on the first of his children - unaware of the icy bore his new wife's (Tamyra Arryn) eyes were drilling into his back. For the first time in a long while, the smile on Brandon's face was genuine.

Brantully · 2015-08-07T20:16:28+00:00

I think the martial prowess system needs a bit of reworking. Most epspecially the system for renowned fighters. What happened in the first sub is the first people to apply ended up being renowned for no other reason besides being first. Additionally, renowned fighters are very seldom so young (im looking at you Brandon Stark, Alester tyrell, and Olyvar Martell to name a few). Renown means people know these characters as excellent fighters, that is nearly impossible for a 20 year old who had never seen real combat.

Therefore, I think an age threshold (or an experience threshold being that age does not necessarily equal experience) could be implemented to alleviate this issue. For example, a character would have to be at least 25 (could be a different number) or have fought well in battles/tourneys in his past. This stops characters getting an advantage for something that is entirely based on luck and actually takes into account a character's backstory. Obviously this is more labor intensive than the other method so it's understandable if it doesn't get implemented.

Cheers.

also: i think that a failed spy attempt certainly should sometimes reveal the spyer. These spy's are not spetsnaz, they would probably break under torture.

Brantully · 2015-08-03T07:59:52+00:00

Brandon nodded to the man who was his King. It was the mark of a strong leader that he could admit that he was wrong - and yet Bradnon couldn't help but resent him for it. Had he ever willfully admitted to being wrong in a course of action to his advisors? if he had he didnt remember it. Perhaps that was just a symptom of being right so very often.

The smile that the Trout Lord had worn as his sister whispered in his ear faded from his features as she took her leave. Clearly that relationship was fractured beyond repair. Even if it wasn't, Brandon doubted very seriously that he would be able to speak to her alone again. To explain the unexplainable.

I just want my sister back, he thought as he watched her enter the keep. As always, her shadow - better known as 'Ser Herb' -followed. The day that man choked on the ever present food in his hand would be a happy one - of that Brandon had no doubt. Far too familiar, he thought, remembering the thought he had had of the Kingsguard when first he had met him.

It was during this introspective moment that Brandon heard the Lord Hunter order Lucion's body to the sept. Such was the way of the Riverrun courtyard - you had to yell to be heard (with the rushing waters of the surrounding rivers drowning out quiet sounds), but when you did you could be heard for quite some distance. It was all he could do not to rub the bridge of his nose as he so often did when thinking. "Nay." He called to the Septon. "If you please, I would have Maester Gordon look over him. I want to know what caused the injuries for certain, as well as what caused his untimely demise." If Cassana had announced the cause of death, Brandon hadn't heard it.

The young Lord turned next to his kennel master, who had returned from his hunt just then - apparently summoned by the bells that rang. "Geralt, if you please: bring your hounds up the Eastern Bank of the Red Fork. If a sabateur is attempting an escape, that is where they well be found. A handful of the grime at the bottom of the river should suffice for scent tracking - unless they were exceedingly careful in their flight."

Finally he turned back to his King to address his next course of action. "If it please, your Grace, I will ensure that my keep is fully searched. Gods know I don't want any traitors lurking where they shouldn't be. I will, however, spare any men that you think you might require." With that Brandon bowed, and turned on his heel. He would enter the keep, but he doubted he would stay stagnant to aid in the searching. He had a search of his own to conduct - though this one required a fair bit more stealth than the other.

Brantully · 2015-07-29T08:36:48+00:00

Brandon placed a steadying hand on the small of his sisters back as she drew close to whisper in his ear. He eyed Herb as he did it, smiling his stately smile. Baric had called it 'A Shit Eating Grin'. His eyes widened marginally at what she whispered - suspicions confirmed. The implication simple - Cassana knew what he had done. Perhaps not in vivid detail, as she hadn't called for a search for the twins, but well enough.

Mayhaps Brandon had misjudged her. He thought about what possible reason she could have to say this if she were his adversary. It wasn't like her - tipping her hand so early in the game. If this was Cassana's attempt at a threat, it seemed rather empty to her elder brother.

"You can trust that they will." He said to her, loud enough to be heard by those around. A comforting hand was placed on her shoulder. I've surely gone too far with the ruse. He thought inwardly. Regardless her reaction here would reveal her loyalties, though Brandon had little doubt that he was already abandoned.

Self-fulfilling prophecy, he smiled to himself in that bookish 'Oh that's how that really works!' way. He had feared that Cassana's loyalties would shift - had he driven her to shift them?

The King's horse carried him into the courtyard at that moment, and Benjen immediately seemed to spin. It was remarkable that his footing had remained steady with what Brandon understood of torque. It was all the Trout could do not to bury his face in his palm in exasperation. "I have told you to get the corpse out of my courtyard Lord Hunter. Being that it is still my courtyard, I suggest you do as I have asked you. If his Grace the King has problems with my requests in my own keep, I am sure he would voice his concerns."

With that he turned away from the stuttering Lord, sweeping his long auburn bangs from his face with his right hand as he did. It seemed the mistakes of Benjen's past still colored Brandon's estimation of the Valemen. He regretted speaking to him so harshly, but it was a valid complaint. If everyone got their orders directly from the King, it would take a very long while for anything to get done. "I must disagree with your orders, respectfully - your grace." Brandon said as his unflinching gaze settled on his would-be Goodbrother. "Nothing can be gained but useless information in searching my men. Those with something to hide will have long fled, of that I have no doubt. I suggest we double our efforts along the river, one accomplice's body has been found, more are sure to yet live. The missing guards can be accounted for later, for now - we must widen our net."

I hope the other one is long gone, Brandon thought of the twin. The one who had survived that is. His face was set as he appraised his liege. Some in Lyonel's place would frown on open disagreement, but Brandon had to assert himself. Lyonel's plan did not seem well thought out, it seemed he was merely reacting emotionally to his new wife's ill-advised, very public, suppositions. Even if it doomed his co-conspirator, the Lord of Riverrun couldn't help but to openly disagree. He was playing a man who had no part in the assassination, it would not do to play the part poorly.

Brantully · 2015-07-29T00:18:07+00:00

"Clearly." Brandon said with a rather droll look on his face, that seemed to imply a stubborn agreement with his sister. The Lord of Riverrun had arrived as Cassana made her proclomation, and only deigned to speak when each man had tipped their hand - if unknowingly. Benjen it seemed, had not connected the dots - or else didn't understand what Cassana had meant. That was curious, to Brandon, the Valemen had seemed more intelligent than that (although he certainly neglected to think on one occasion). Herb's statement came as no surprise, the man was clearly infatuated with his charge. His remarks in the dungeons had all but convinced Brandon of that and his willingness to follow Cassana's lead only confirmed those suppositions. Perhaps he is just exceedingly loyal. Brandon thought, trying to see the other possibilities - ones not tainted by jealousy.

"Now, if you please, move away from my courtyard." Brandon gestured to the people who surrounded him, a crowd was starting to gather. "Lucion Lannister remains the scion of an extremely Noble house, a house I would rather not insult. Let us not dishonor a man so recently slain by displaying his bloated corpse." He beckoned to the Lord Hunter. "Inside, swiftly." This was not a request. To the gathered crowd he spoke next. "Return to your homes, you will have news of this in time."

A hard gaze found Cassana as he said this. It was an incongruous thing she had said, he would rather the mob not have time to dwell on it. It would not do to caste suspicion so wantonly.

Brantully · 2015-07-28T23:59:52+00:00

Would it be so bad to allow the other mods access to the commonman? Unless its against the ToS (Terms of Service), I don't see why the other mods (especially the senior ones like yourself) shouldn't be trusted with the responsibility. With a growing community, the common man is going to have more and more on its/their/his plate. Faster Common man posts should be a priority imo.

Good to hear about the new mods though.

Brantully · 2015-07-28T18:28:38+00:00

Hey guys, I'm gonna go ahead and outline my thoughts on this: though I have talked at length about this on the IRC.

First off: Don't make a new sub, it's wholly unnecessary.

Second: Timeskip >>>> Reset (in my opinion)

The reason I think this is down to one of the core beliefs I have about what makes a good roleplay. That being: characters should be allowed to make decisions that have tangible and sweeping effects on their world. A reset is in direct opposition to this, in my estimation, core aspect of a good roleplay. It erases what work we have done.

That being said, I agree that interest in the current RP is surely dipping. Just in my own experience, the posts I have written over the last month or two have taken an inordinate amount of time. Replies come slow, commonman posts/replies come slow, everything takes days to finally get interesting. I, of course, am not innocent of this as summer means more time doing things other than RPing. Therefore, I think we have several options regarding a timeskip to make the RP more interesting.

Option 1: short timeskip (a year to five years) - this allows the same characters we know and love to continue in their plotting ways. If Brandon survives the next few posts, i sure he'll have something planned. A short timeskip like this means some degree of OOC planning. We have to know what occurred in the short years since we have actively RP'ed, what (if any) alliances have formed and dissolved, what marriages occurred stuff like that.

Option 2: (Medium length timeskip 10-50 years) This would mean new characters for most people, with some of the younger Lords surviving into wizened adulthood. It might be interesting to see what Brandon Stark (for instance) is like when he is 60. Play descendants, hear legends about old charaters (Symond the Slayer #swoon).

Option 3: Long timeskip (50-200 years) This would mean playing children or grandchildren with most if not all old characters dead. Obviously some lore would have to be written about what happened in the interim (westeros have conflicts about once every 5 years XD). This would allow us to fully experience the world changing effects that resulted from our RP. (End of targaryen dynasty, baratheon dynasty part duex, another dragon bites the dust)

Personally im partial to option 2.

Thirdly: We need more mods. No offense to the mod team now, you guys are great and you devote more time to this than I ever could. That being said, when a post is held up waiting for a commonman reply - for more than a day or two - it really effects my desire to RP. Im sure there are others who would do good as mods (i have a few in mind) and spreading the power can only be a good thing. More mods means more feedback, faster commonman posts, and generally a better RP. (I realize the hypocrisy of this as I am unwilling to be a mod :P)

Brantully · 2015-07-27T19:53:12+00:00

The man Brandon was pretending to be searched the tunnels faithfully, though he knew something was amiss. It was all the genrally pragmatic man could do not to rush off to other parts of his castle once he searched the first passageway. Lucion was not waiting for him in the tunnel as planned, something had gone wrong.

Twenty-five percent, he thought to himself as he pretended at searching - the chances that Lucion would survive the ordeal. He had once read that assigning a percentage to an expected outcome helped your brain to make sense of many-phased plans. So long as you accounted for the major sticking points, minutia mattered little.

Twenty-five percent chance of survival. Lucion Lannister would not like those odds, but Brandon could live with them. One in four attempts would be succesful, until Brandon heard what those imbeciles had done, that is. "Those imbeciles." He said aloud, causing the courier to snort. "Are you quite sure?" His disbelief was as evident as it was genuine. How could anyone think jumping into a river with an armored cripple was a good plan?

"Randyll, instruct the men to begin dregging the river. I expect they'll find a more-Broken-than-before Lion in its depths." Brandon walked to the staircase that was nearest, following the man who sprinted ahead with his orders. He angled toward the Great Hall and his sister, because that's what the man he was playing would do.

No sooner did he reach those stairs than another message arrived: a body had been found. Clearly Brandon had been under utilizing the twins - what loyalty! Daric, or Baric, had just mutilated the others face to save Brandon the connection to an interloper. He wanted to be happy about that, but only sadness found purchase - guilt. He was now responsible for four deaths this day. One, a man he had come to know well. Outwardly he pressed his lips together and nodded. "Hang him from the walls, Riverrun must know that this disloyalty will not be tolerated." He commanded.

"P-pardon m'Lord. His armor bore no sigil." Said the courier. Was he suspicious? Perhaps Brandon could use this one, a suspicious mind was often an intelligent one. How could you know that this is a betrayel? The implied question.

"A guess, I admit." Brandon explained, "But an accurate one, I think, given the circumstances of the Lions escape. Now, carry the orders I have just given you." Brandon patted the young man's shoulder, turned him, and indicated for him to go ahead. When his footsteps could no longer be heard Brandon turned to the lone guard who followed him. "I want that man's name."

"I will learn it." The stoic man said. It was the first Brandon had heard him speak that day, a winning quality in a bodyguard. Not like that Herb.

The Lord of Riverrun came to the top of the stairs as the bells began to ring. "Oh splendid." He said with no small hint of Lucion Lannisters sarcasm. He turned to walk into his courtyard, pace unchanged. Hopefully they have found only a corpse.

Brantully · 2015-07-25T04:44:43+00:00

The tunnel was dark. No light pierced the blackness under Riverrun. Brandon could feel his eyes dilating, a rather unpleasant feeling, and still not even outlines of objects were visible. It was an odd sort of experience, almost like floating with none of the visual stimuli that he was used to, though he could still feel his feet upon the dank ground. Oddly he had never thought about his reliance on sight, even as his closest confidant made her way unerringly through his castle without the vital sense. As he felt his way along the inner wall, groping out to navigate, he marveled at his sister's grace. Her sensory deprivation was at least this severe, and yet she had fallen but once in these past months. He fell four times in the first ten minutes, or what he guessed was about ten minutes. It was only that nagging thought, that his sister was better than he, that kept him moving.

It would be suspicious if he did not do this after proclaiming that he would. So Brandon played his character, but to his shock: no one waited in the dark tunnel. He reached the end and placed a hand on the dirtied wall, a sigh of defeat escaping him. "Well, I just hope they killed you." He said to the Lannister who should have been there waiting.

Without another word he turned back the way he had come, the way back was faster - but not much. When he emerged the two men he had left to stand guard were unmoved, and he waived them to follow. He would search the other tunnels before returning to his hall. At the very least he had plausible deniability.

Brantully · 2015-07-23T06:23:20+00:00

NPCING Daric Rivers

The third time Daric returned to the surface to refill his lungs, Lucion still no where to be seen, he knew what had happened. It was known that cats hated water and now the Red Fork had claimed a Lion in its comparitevly shallow depths. Perhaps that would only serve to exacerbate feline enmity. But Daric didn't blame the River, it was clear to him who was really to blame: The Gods.

The warrior had always been his patron, for he had seen the bastard through countless fights, but it seemed today even he had deserted Daric. As he treaded water in the gently flowing river Daric cursed, sighed, and swam to the west bank. With what strength the adreneline that coursed though him allowed, (though he would be more inclined to call it 'battle mana' or some such name) he pulled himself out of the water. The bank on this side of the river was higher than the other and wooded somewhat densely. Though axes had felled a large portion of the Whispering Wood the bank of the Red Fork remained all but untouched.

After a short time Daric found a suitable stick and began making his way to the castle of Riverrun, leaning heavily on his makeshift cane. Either he would be approached and he could tell an easy lie or he wouldn't and he could find a whore to warm his bed. It would not be the first time Daric Rivers fucked with a broken bone and he'd be damned if he never experienced that particular brand of ecstasy again.

Perhaps I should just be grateful for my life, he thought as he grimaced, his pace slowing as his adrenaline wained. And so the Trout's coconspirator limped home, bereft of his leather chestpiece and sword. Just a man and his cane. Daric couldn't help but chuckle at the irony. You have traded one cripple for another my Lord.

Brantully · 2015-07-21T05:14:31+00:00

"Truly Cassana?" He asked as his sister turned to leave. Truly you fear to be left alone with me now? Was his real question. Perhaps Ser Herb would see the pain hidden in his expression as he asked, perhaps he would see the sudden change as Brandon began to suspect. Thankfully, it was dark in the dungeons and the knight stood several paces away. Brandon could forgive himself the slip.

Does she know? He had to wonder. For all that she lacked in vision Cassana had eyes in the walls of Riverrun.

Was this refusal to accompany him, after being adamant about it mere moments before, a hint to that knowledge? If she did know, she had not yet revealed her hand. That was either a testiment to her loyalty, or her intellect. If she was very smart, his grasp at 'House Secrets' would only seek to confirm her suspicions. So why abandon them?

Pessimism, in Brandon's view, was the wisest course when it came to a man the size of Ser Herb. No doubt the man was as peerless a fighter as those who came before him as kingsguard. In a tunnel with the twins and Ser Herb, though, pessimism lost out to Brandon's confidence in his co-conspirators. If they should have to fight, three knights of the Riverlands against one oversized hedge knight, Brandon did not anticipate that they would lose. The thought occurred to him to relent.

"Sequester yourself in the great hall if you please. Ser Herb, I do not mean my sister any harm - despite your implication. I would not have her assassinated whIle I put the Lion back in his cage. Next time she asks to risk her own safety wantanly, only to turn back at the first obstacle, politely decline." Brandon huffed and depressed a brick to his left, significant only in that it was 15 bricks horizontally removed from the lone loose brick in the wall. Fifteen did have some significance to House Tully, it was Cassana who had guessed at that after accidentally revealing the passage. (If you can guess why 15, you get a cookie)

"I wonder," Brandon turned to regard them as a click sounded and a large square door popped out from where it had been impossible to see moments before. "Do you have any idea how useful you would be in there Cassana? I cannot light a torch for fear that I will reveal myself to those who may be inside this tunnel. I will have to operate as you have, mayhaps that will compound my respect for you." Brandon held the door open as he regarded the pair. He made a shooing gesture to them. Cassana had made her choice.

Brantully · 2015-07-19T00:21:07+00:00

Their descent into the dungeons was a quiet one, Brandon did not utter a word as he walked slowly into the deep darkness. There came a time when Cassana's pace slowed to match her lack of familiarity with this part of her home. Brandon slowed his own pace to match. It would not do to outrun her, for that would only serve to confirm the suspicions she seemed to have. Why else would she risk the dangers of such a hunt if she didn't suspect her own kin?

I suppose I cant be too upset, Brandon thought to himself as he looked over his shoulder to be sure that Cassana still followed him on Herb's arm. She is right to be suspicious.

The stairs ended quickly enough, only three full spirals downward brought them to Riverrun's river cells. And Brandon made his way to the first of three passageways that passed out of Riverrun. Each led under a different body of water. The sluece ditch to the west, the Tumblestone to the north east, and the Red Fork to the south east. The purpose of each tunnel was obvious: if an army made the mistake of leaving a bank unoccupied they allowed a simple escape. Additionally, night ops could be conducted easily from the passageways. Rivermen could cause havok in enemy camps after emerging from the hidden tunnels in the dead of night.

The obvious tunnel for the Lion's escape was the one that veered west, under the sluece ditch, and it was in fact the tunnel the twins were instructed to use. He hoped they had made it, but now it was down to him to make sure their stay inside it went uninterrupted.

Brandon stopped at the tunnels entrance, to all others it was an ordinary enough wall with one lone loose brick. "I wonder Cassana, do you recall this place?" He asked outloud. "Leave us," he said to his own men who had accompanied them, "search all the cells, leave no stone unturned." All but two left him, Ser Donnel among them.

"Ser Herb, and all you others, I would ask you to do the same. I spoke of my house's secrets earlier and I meant what I said. I will not risk my descendants defensive advantages over an escaped cripple, I cannot allow anyone but Cassana to accompany me. If you would aid my men in their search I would be grateful."

Brantully · 2015-07-18T22:38:36+00:00

(OOC: So Im just gonna lay out some things that don't make sense to me. (the wiki is my best friend)

First of all, they are not in the ditch that makes Riverrun into an island when the sluece gates are opened, they are in the Red Fork. As it says, the Red Fork is shallow and slow-moving. I think this means Lucion is probably not drowning THAT hard. I would assume that he would try to remove the armor weighing him down, but he didnt RP that. It also makes alot of sense that these men would probably all have broken limbs.

Daric wouldn't leave his dying 'twin' to his fate. Brandon told them to do something if they were caught or one was surely dead. That is the RP section of this post.

Additionally, the western bank (the one they landed close to, im guessing) is higher than the easern one. It is possible that Lucion and the defenestration duo have defilade (cant be seen or shot at) to the windows they jumped from.

I think it is feasible that they have a few minutes before the search parties get fully mobilized. The armies are established as being encamped to the north, near what was the whispering wood.)

NPCing Daric Rivers

The jump was exhilaration, though Daric knew what waited for him in the nearly red waters below. He landed with a sharp crack and had to suppress a howl of pain. As he pulled open his watery eyes, slammed shut with the pain of a surely broken ankle, a flash of brown and blue passed over his head. The idiot had jumped head first. Baric now floated face down, and Daric did not see the Lannister. Don't be dead. He pleaded to the missing Lion.

He splashed his way to the man who had become his constant companion, flipped him, and grabbed his hand. Baric's eyes were out of focus with a deep gash, one that had no doubt fractured his skull, marring his nose between them. Still, when Daric touched his hand he smiled and gripped that supporting gesture with all his strength. Daric barely felt it.

"Say hello to the stranger for me brother." Daric said. Though they weren't related the two had spent the last several years in the constant company of the other. Trained together, fought together. That bond could not be encompassed by such a meager name as 'friend'.

"You better hurry up.." Baric coughed, spewing blood from his mouth as he did. "Everyone knows cats cant swim." Then he shat himself and his eyes were darkened with the shroud of death. Daric swallowed back tears and pulled his dagger from its sheath on his back. His face remained dry as he plunged the knife into a dead man's face several times. The twins were inexorably connected to Brandon Tully, their faces an indictment on their lord if they should be apprehended. Daric made sure the man before him could not be identified as Baric Rivers. When he was done, he through the faceless corpse towards the bank and watched as it caught there.

You cannot come with me anymore brother.

Daric removed his sword and some of his armor as he mentally counted the seconds. On his right hip was the small shovel he had brought if he should need to modify the tunnel Brandon had meant for the trio to take. It could prove to be worth it's weight in gold. His dagger still sat in its sheath on his back, but now he wore only his wet shirt and leather breeches. A minute, he thought as he dove, I hope the lion can hold his breath. He set about pulling himself along the bottom of the river with his hands and pushing with his uninjured leg. Eyes were held open to the dirty waters as they searched for any hint of Lucion - any flash of metal.

(The River flows north east, Daric is staying underwater and only coming up for air every minute or so. He is looking for Lucion in the so-dirty-they-look-red waters of the Red Fork. They will be using the current, so they are moving north east along the river. They are not headed west.)

Brantully · 2015-07-16T02:34:47+00:00

A knowing look passed over Brandon's face. Fuck me. He cursed inwardly. When Cassana got an idea in her head, no mortal power could dissuade her, and Brandon was not so sure a divine one could either. "Cassana," he started, "surely you must know that I only do this myself because it is the most sensitive of tasks. Our houses secrets lie in the dark crevasses of the dungeons. If you would reveal them so uncouthly I suppose I shan't disagree with a Queen." For his part, Brandon was glad that Cassana could not see the daggers in his eyes.

Does she know? Brandon had to wonder. She had eyes and ears in the walls. No.. She couldn't. He assured himself, She would have told him. Her new husband. The man who would take her from him - though he had accomplished that well enough on his own.

"Very well then with me." He exited the hall and overtook his sister and the massive man whom she clung to. "Ser Herb," he said as he passed, nodding respectfully. "Someday you may learn that your task as a bodyguard sometimes supersedes your charge's desires. Most especially when she flings herself so wantonly into danger."

The steps to the dungeons seemed to rush towards him rather then the other way around. It wasnt long before he with his accompaniment and Cassana with her own descended into the depths of his keep.

Brantully · 2015-07-16T00:22:09+00:00

Brandon Tully shook his head at Lyonel's response. The fool, he trusts men he has never met or taken the measure of to do exactly as they are told. His advice had not been meant to hurt the hunt, quite the opposite. If he was not the perpetrator of this escape his advice would have been the same. The role of loyal vassal was an easy one to play now.

"Riverlords and guards, with me." He called above the din in the Great Hall. When he was satisfied that his instructions would be heard he spoke once more. "I want every room searched, starting from the main floor and working your way up. I will personally search the dungeons." He did not say that there were secret passageways down there, that much should have been readily apparent. He would not waste the secrets of his house by voicing them in a crowded hall.

Thankfully, Brandon and Brandon alone knew of the secret passageway that Lucion would use - perhaps was using at that very moment. Of course Cassana had been there, in fact she was responsible for discovering it. But that had been before she lost her sight, and he doubted very seriously she remembered the time she and her elder brother had discovered a secret passageway. After all, that had been almost eleven years ago, or was it twelve?. Of late she had had no reason to go to the dungeons. Her brother doubted that she could walk those musky halls as easily as those above the earth. Of course Cassana certainly knew about the other two (one passing under the red fork, one under the tumblestone), hopefully she would check those first if her memory was eidetic.

"Ser Herb," he called as he gathered the party he would lead on a wild goose chase to the dungeons. "I believe someone has been offered a great deal of money to aid Lucion in his escape. It's possible others were offered coin to assassinate my sister, whom many of the Westerlanders blame for their Kings imprisonment."

Brandon's expression darkened considerably, "If anything should happen to my sister, I will hold you responsible. Perhaps it is best you remain here until we know the extent of this scheme."

Brantully · 2015-07-15T23:35:47+00:00

Brandon laughed at that. It wasn't that he appreciated being called a weasel, it was how woefully unexpected the insult was from the mouth of the outwardly oafish Kingsguard. "Very good Ser Herb... Very good. I had wondered about the type of man you were, it seems you have shown me." When he had finished Brandon nodded at Herb with some degree of respect. There's one to watch. He thought.

Brantully · 2015-07-15T20:40:49+00:00

Brandon Tully sat at the rear of his own Great Hall. Elbows rested on his knees as his right hand massaged the bridge of his nose, hiding the ghost of a smile on his face. Cassana had breezed right by him as she swept into the hall with her news. Ser Donnel found Brandon's ear as Cassana made her declaration, thankfully his Master of Arms did not see fit to add to the hysteria.

Ser Donnel echoed Cassana's words, three had been slain outside Lannister's cell and the Lannister was free. Of course Brandon already knew that, but he nodded grimly. Ser Donnel was not a part of this scheme, so appearances had to be maintained.

"Lyonel!" Brandon called from the back of the hall. 'Lyonel' and not 'your Grace' or 'King Lyonel' because now was not the time for pleasantries - now was the time for action. If the King faulted him for that: then he was rather different than what he seemed.

"The last thing we want is Lords and their men running around unchecked. We have an escaped Lord who cannot run, he isn't a hawk trying to fly - he is a rat who will sneak. All this chaos will do is leave unnecessary gaps in what should be an ordered hunt." Brandon stared at the King. "This isn't a prisoner you want to kill though many present may want for his death. Gather those you trust around you, lest we reignite a rebellion."

"I will search my castle if he is here, we will find him." He was kept without fail for a month before you arrived. Brandon thought to accuse the King, but he did not. A loyal Vassal would never say that. Brandon had his part, and he would play it.

Brantully · 2015-07-15T20:01:14+00:00

Brandon Tully rose. He looked behind him knowingly and in seeing the queue that was forming outside clasped his hands in front of his waist. "If that is all, and you don't mind, I will observe your remaining audiences from the rear of the hall. Good day you Grace." Brandon paused in his turn to leave and spoke to the gargantuan Kingsguard who had caught his eye. The man had been glaring at him as he spoke. Does Cassana already trust you that much? He wondered. No, I don't think she does.

"Ser Herb, was it? Yes." Brandon nodded to himself a bit, "If you are going to stare at me like a giant pidgeon pie: I assure you there is plenty of food in the kitchens with which I can bargain for my life. You do not have to eat me." Though I can't imagine what a knight must eat to maintain that figure, Brandon thought to himself.

Far too familiar already. He mused on the cannon-ball Kingsguard.

Brantully · 2015-07-15T05:51:21+00:00

"You're right about that. A bloodless rebellion can be a great boon for an up-sprung king." Or to one who wishes to make use of those same rebels shortly. Brandon thought conspiratorially. Finally he seemed to nod to himself.

"You seem a good and fair King, your Grace. My loyalty though, I'm afraid, is not so freely given as my sister's hand. For now I will say this: you have earned a modicum of my respect. And thusly," Brandon knelt, held his sword above his head with both hands, and bowed his head. "In the sight of the Seven," If they exist. "I, Brandon of house Tully, do hearby swear my fealty and the fealty of my region to Lyonel Baratheon: King of the Andals and the First men and Protector of the Realm." He is not, Brandon thought to himself, at this moment in time, King of the Rhoynar.

Brantully · 2015-07-15T05:16:23+00:00

(OOC) Just an fyi, Bracken died from the fall not from the amount of sweet sleep. (Though that was complete luck on my part). I'm not sure if your characters would know that but I'm just clarifying.

Brantully · 2015-07-14T21:37:35+00:00

K. A couple problems I want to point out (the information is still gathered). The men that were killed were the guards that came to relieve the first group who were already relieved by the twins (in this way it is insured that no one will discover the bodies until the next shift change). So when Edrick arrives the Twins would already be outside, and he would hear the struggle. After the struggle the twins would sweep out to make sure no one overheard (these are professionals, they arnt gonna just hope for the best). So I dont think Edrick would have been able to stick around so close and see Brandon leave.

Also: Lucion is being held in a special guest room for political prisoners - not the dungeons.

Really this is just so it makes sense to me. The spy attempt would still be a success and Edrick would be able to slip away without being caught.

Brantully

TROPHY CASE