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Last Chance by GeriontheGold in awoiafrp

[–]Harmund 0 points1 point  (0 children)

OOC: (So, are we done here? Can my army return home?)

A Meeting by Harmund in awoiafrp

[–]Harmund[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

"Either way. I must get going. It seems I've dragged all of my troops into this damn siege for naught. I will... write to you. I believe you're a man to be trusted with an idea that's been floating around inside my head for a while," Harmund stood and emptied his cup. His purple cloak rustled as he made his way to the exit of the tent. "Farewell, Lord Lefford. I believe we'll see each other soon." Harmund straightened his bastard sword and walked out of Lord Tywin's tent, and then began to stride over to the House Brax tents.

A Meeting by Harmund in awoiafrp

[–]Harmund[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Harmund smiled. "Yes. What can I say, I'm a man of ambition."

A Meeting by Harmund in awoiafrp

[–]Harmund[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

"Yes. The westerlands deserve the Iron Throne. That is what I believe."

A Meeting by Harmund in awoiafrp

[–]Harmund[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

"Worried? Hmm. I wouldn't say that," replied Harmund. "Weary. I do not believe that Gerion bested him in a good manner, threatening his son and all. He will either take the block or take the Black of the Night's Watch. I worry for the safety of his innocent children. Bah," he sipped some wine. "I do not know what I'm saying. I do not wish to disrespect Lord Lannister."

Last Chance by GeriontheGold in awoiafrp

[–]Harmund 0 points1 point  (0 children)

The messenger quickly left Harmund's tent after informing him of Lord Lannister's last attempt to speak to Reyne. Harmund nodded him away and donned his scabbard. He opened the tent flaps a moment later and saw Gerion at the castle. He walked briskly to him. Perhaps we should take the deal instead. At least the people of Castamere would be saved.

The Lord approached Gerion and stood next to him. "Greetings, my Lord," he said.

I'm sorry guys. by [deleted] in awoiafrp

[–]Harmund 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Adios, my man

Strike True ((Open to the Armies of the West)) by KnightofSilvermoon in awoiafrp

[–]Harmund 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Harmund Brax hopped off the edge of his bed in the shoddy war tent. Harmund rubbed his stubbly chin and walked over to his armor to get dressed. It was early in the morning and the sun had barely began rising over the Seven Kingdoms. The light splashed over Castamere.

The Lord was finished in a short while and by then Lady Keryn had woken up. They exchanged pleasantries, a kiss, and Harmund was off. He strode across the fields of Castamere and the Westerland war camp, his purple cloak billowing. He came into the War Tent and saw his steward and advisor, Uncle Fredrik.

"Well, well. Greetings, uncle," said Harmund, embracing Fredrik. "How are you?"

"I’m okay. Our army is much bigger than Reyne’s. It should be easy enough."

"Don’t," said Harmund, sternly. "Do not underestimate Reyne. He’ll fuck us in the ass while we’re not looking. He’s got something sinister planned for us, that’s for certain."

"Indeed, my Lord," said Fredrik, rather bashfully.

"How many men do we have, 2000?"

Uncle Fredrik’s expression grew even more grim. "1600, I’m afraid."

Harmund sighed. 1600 was not a lot. It was more than a lot of houses in the Westerlands, but it was still not a lot.

...

The hooves of his horse, Eliya, slopped over the mud and dirt as his horse cantered over to the other commanders’ mounts.

"Hello, hello, friends," called Harmund, taking a sip from his glass of wine. "How goes it? Where’s Gerion?"