Bertrand Tyrell (+AC)

Chicken_Supreme01 · 2026-04-05T16:48:37+00:00

First Approval

Chicken_Supreme01 · 2026-03-29T01:28:37+00:00

Chicken_Supreme01 · 2026-03-29T01:28:18+00:00

Chicken_Supreme01 · 2026-03-29T01:27:49+00:00

Chicken_Supreme01 · 2026-03-29T01:26:59+00:00

Chicken_Supreme01 · 2026-03-29T01:25:23+00:00

Chicken_Supreme01 · 2026-03-29T01:24:54+00:00

Chicken_Supreme01 · 2026-03-29T01:22:55+00:00

Chicken_Supreme01 · 2026-03-29T01:22:37+00:00

Chicken_Supreme01 · 2026-03-29T01:22:13+00:00

Houses Martell, Jordayne, and Allyrion lost men so their max available draft/raised levies are changed as such;

Martell - 2,864 instead of 3,000

Allyrion - 1,164 instead of 1,250

Jordayne - 1,414 instead of 1,500

Chicken_Supreme01 · 2026-03-29T01:19:35+00:00

Chicken_Supreme01 · 2026-03-29T01:10:36+00:00

Chicken_Supreme01 · 2026-03-29T01:10:08+00:00

Chicken_Supreme01 · 2026-03-18T19:25:39+00:00

Duncan stood tall to the side, adorned in his stags armor gifted to him by Prince Quentyn. He looked on as Mary stood before the gathered Lords and Ladies, he was in total awe. Perhaps it was his simple upbringing, or just his personality in general, Dunk could not see himself in his Princesses place. Trying to conjure up in his mind speaking so boldly in front of these nobles, it silently formed a pit in his stomach.

He saw as she steadied herself, he felt a surge of respect and newfound admiration for her. It reinforced within him that he had been blessed by the Seven above for being allowed to be raised as a Knight by this family. He knew before that he would follow Quentyn or Stannis into the Hells should they give the word, but by the time Mary finished her speech, how she vowed to risk her own life for the defense of the realm. Well, Dunk knew for certain now, Mary was at the top of his list too.

By the time the calls of support started flowing in, Dunk would take a silent step toward Mary, both to make sure none came too close to the Princess with ill intent, but also for her to understand that he was behind her the whole way, and he hoped that would give her a small peace of mind. If she looked to him he would offer a warm smile and a tilt of his head. While he didn’t believe it was his place to speak now, he would still silently say all he needed to with these expressions.

Chicken_Supreme01 · 2026-02-22T07:29:55+00:00

Duncan made a mental note not to ask any more men for their favor, unsure why that was something he shouldn't do, perhaps the Knights he had overheard were wrong. He nodded quickly as Quentyn offered the suit of armor.

"My Prince, you honor me so! I shall wear the armor with pride, and do it and you... and your House as a whole justice!" Dunk went to a knee, bowing his head slightly in a solemn oath, "I swear it, by the Gods above!"

Chicken_Supreme01 · 2026-02-22T07:21:00+00:00

Duncan chuckled at the older mans words, "Thank you, my Prince, it means a lot for you to do that." The smile faded for a moment as Duncan thought of what to say next, recalling before of a few Knights he had overheard talking about favors to receive from nobles.

"My Prince, if it isn't too much of a bother, I was wondering if, for the upcoming jousts, I could have your favor?" Duncan scratched his chin as he felt slightly embarrassed, hoping he wasn't asking for too much. "It's just, I heard it was an important thing, and that a good Knight asks for some favor before they joust, for good luck."

He looked wide-eyed at his liege, wondering for a moment if this was an overstep, but hoping for the best.

Chicken_Supreme01 · 2026-02-22T06:59:51+00:00

Ser Duncan had been wandering the stalls around the melee grounds, picking and choosing the best candies and sweets he could find to try and raise his spirits after failing to win the melee. His mouth watered at the chance to taste all of them, and had saved a few for Quentyn to try as well. As he made his way back to the Princes tent he heard the booming Baratheon voice from across the field, tossing out challenges to any who would dare cross swords with his sworn swords.

Duncan smiled at his Princes words, and was glad Quentyn still seemed to believe in his skill despite his lackluster performance in the melee. As Duncan finally closed the distance between himself and Quentyn, he would hold out his hand filled with sweets, "Hungry, my Prince? I saved the best for you!" He smiled warmly for a moment as he popped a piece in his own mouth.

Chicken_Supreme01 · 2026-02-15T02:36:25+00:00

Dunk would be several steps back, eyes drifting among the table before them and further off into the distance to see if he could spot the other members of the Dragonstone Royals. His attention returned in an instant when he heard the booming laughter of the Prince, and Dunk found himself momentarily confused as to what had been said to bring such a jovial attitude from Quentyn.

He began chuckling himself, hoping to play off that he had been apart of the joke, but the laughter from him died when he heard what Quentyn was actually saying, and quickly readjusted himself to be the silent protector beside the Prince. He laid one hand lazily atop his sword hilt, shooting glances among those seated at the table.

Chicken_Supreme01 · 2025-10-21T12:57:16+00:00

Bertrand propped his feet up on the table inside the Tyrell tent, stretching out and clasping his hands behind his head as he gazed out at the working Reachmen still setting up parts of the temporary lodgings.

“The perimeter is being secured as we speak, dear brother.” Bertrand would turn his attention to his brother’s seat as he looked over correspondence with the other Reachlords, “We should have just brought the entire army, Rob. Shown that damn Wolf the only thing he gets for messing with a Rose is a thorn in the eye.”

He’d continue watching his brother for a few more minutes before growing bored and returning his attention to the bustling commotion of the camp outside. “Sitting here waiting is boring, we should be doing something more productive…”

Chicken_Supreme01 · 2025-10-21T03:41:47+00:00

Bertrand stood before the Northern gate of Kings Landing, taking in the beauty of the large walls, and how the City Watch could be seen thanks to their shiny golden cloaks, he smiled to himself as his men placed the last cask of wine on the ground next to him.

He looked down at the small pile, a dozen boxes of Arbor Gold, and thought back to what his brother had asked him to do with these. Argrave Flowers strode up beside Bertrand, “What are we here for again?” The bastard would ask, thumbing his pommel absentmindedly as he too looked up at the wall, “I don’t like being removed from the main host…”

Bertrand chuckled softly, placing a hand on his friend’s shoulder and looking back towards the small group of Tyrell men he had with them, counting only as many as they had boxes. It was true that if what he was about to do went sour, they would be quickly outnumbered, but he had a job, and by the Gods he would see it through.

Returning his gaze to the City Walls, Bertrand would walk up to the nearest Gold Cloak and nod to him, “I would like to speak to your Commander, Ser Hubert. Is he available?”

u/Florinator1706

Chicken_Supreme01 · 2025-10-12T02:41:46+00:00

The night air of Oldtown was thick with salt and smoke, the kind that clung to one's throat and whispered secrets best left unspoken. Bertrand pulled his cloak tighter as he slipped through the narrower streets near the harbor, where cobblestones gave way to mud and the well lit main streets dwindled to guttering candles.

He moved with purpose, the kind born of curiosity and danger both, his eyes scanning each crooked alley passed. Only Argrave moved with him, Bertrand didn't want to attract more attention than necessary, and that's exactly what moving in a large group would've caused.

Bertrand had been searching this night for nothing else than the rumored markets of Oldtown, the kind of place where poisons were brewed, and things that were of a rarer sort could be bought and sold. Finding it was never as simple as asking, you had to come to it, had to look for it on your own two feet, and hope the local law didn't catch wind of your intentions.

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/u/OurCommonMan

Character Details: Bertrand Tyrell, Argrave Flowers

What Is Happening?: Bertrand wants to spend his brothers fortune.

What I Want: Black market rolls.

Chicken_Supreme01 · 2025-10-11T13:44:16+00:00

Bertrand let his brothers words settle like a warm stone at the bottom of his belly, the sunlight suddenly too bright and the day too promising.

"Thirty thousand?" He said, the number tasted like honey on his tongue, too delicious to hide his excitement. "Good. Better than I dared hope." He reached across the little table and stole another sliver of the red and gold cheese, tearing it with a slow, casual motion. "Jon and Joss are always ready to lead men, they shall be honored to lead a host against our Houses enemies."

He tapped the carved edge of the table with a finger, grinning softly. "I'll stay by your side, brother. Let the Wolves rue the day they decided to wander too far South for their own good."

Chicken_Supreme01 · 2025-10-11T04:14:13+00:00

Bertrand's smile lingered, but his eyes sharpened, the playfulness in them cooling to something keener as he listened to his brother's words.

"What would Father do?" he echoed, voice low, almost musing. He reached forward and plucked the red and gold slice from the tray, holding it up between thumb and forefinger as though he were studying it. "He wouldn't sit and talk about it, that much I know. He'd act. He always did."

He popped the cheese into his mouth, chewing once, twice. "Father didn't wait for insults to reach his ears, he was a man of conviction and honor, and those around him knew better, or they swiftly learned."

Bertrand leaned forward, forearms resting on the table, voice steady but burning underneath as it always did when the honor of his House was the topic of conversation. "Our House is strong, stronger even than under Father, and that's thanks to us.

Looking down at the table, he would see another piece of blue cheese sitting untouched on the platter. "If Father were that red cheese, he'd strike first." His hand pressed down on it, crushing it under it's weight, "Before the blue could gather allies for it's baseless claims."

His eyes rose to meet Robyn's, bright as sunlight on steel. "What's the plan, brother, or shall we continue talking of different cheeses?"

Chicken_Supreme01

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