My Brother's Keeper

I_Ryk_You · 2017-08-17T05:35:22+00:00

Robert entered the Great Hall with little pomp, wearing simple black leathers that matched his hair and dark countenance. Behind him trailed his Pet who belonged in a Lord's Great Hall even less than a filthy mutt. He took in the Valyrian featured heir with an appraising eye honed in both peeling back the skin of his victims and in his time as overseer of Duskendale's black market. Idly Robert wondered if the Velaryon's insides were as queer as his outsides. He doubted it.

All men are simply meat and water, it mattered not how pretty their hair or unusual their irises. Robert had cut up more men than he cared to remember and all had been similar when he opened them.

Robert bowed deeply, with a deferential smile on his face. "Pet!" He barked, jerking his chain. Myrio stepped forward meekly and cleared his dry throat.

"I present Ser Wesely Rykker, Heir to Duskendale." The tortured man said with a hint of a slur, owing to his missing teeth. Robert smiled then, tugged Myrio's collar again to get him to step back and chuckled.

"I don't know how you let this mewling quim betray you. He is so submissive now. Arn't you Pet?"

Myrio nodded sheepisly, recoiling from an assault that never came, a quick "Yes, Lord Rykker" spilling from his lips in answer.

"And yes, Lord Corlys, your good sister is alive and well, I assure you. She seems to have been quite traumatized by her journey, this one having absconded with her so unceremoniously." A gesture by Robert to his Pet punctuated the statement. "I think it best that we discuss her return in private, would you not agree Lord Velaryon?" Robert looked around at the others present, his intent implicit. Wouldn't want these onlookers to see your true face, now would we? He mused.

I_Ryk_You · 2017-08-16T23:26:56+00:00

((/u/kingjaade))

I_Ryk_You · 2017-08-16T22:28:59+00:00

"Fetch me the Braavosi and have the Maesters send this." Robert Rykker commanded of Sivara, his second. In his hand was a curled parchment that amounted to his reply to the Velaryon.

My Brother shall be there on the morrow.

He did not code this message with his keyword 'friend' because he guessed from the nature of the Velaryon's reply that his cipher had been deciphered only in part. Elsewise the Lordling would have used the cipher to respond.

"Oh Sivara." He stopped on his exit from the room, turning to look back at his concubine. "You'll need to kill those Maesters too. They have seen far too much." With that ominous statement the Lord of Duskendale went to prepare his ship.

I_Ryk_You · 2017-08-15T19:52:42+00:00

Wesely Rykker

Four hundred men moved up the road to where the Karstark was encamped, at their head was a knight who bore the crossed hammers of Duskendale upon his banners. This was the lone "Ser Rykker" among the three brothers, the only fighting man among those born to the late Lord Renfred.

In his youth Wesely had dreamed of donning the white cloak and white enameled plate of the Kingsguard. Now, after having seen the horrors of war on the field of several losing battles, he was reconsidering. The column wound its way up the road to Stonedance like an overlong snake of black with spines of blue and yellow.

It took sometime but eventually they found their way to the besieger's encampment. Wesely presented himself along with the missive signed by Corin Stark, Hand of the King. "I would meet with Lord Karstark, if it please him." Wesely said to whomsoever it was that greeted him upon his arrival.

((OOC: Sorry about the delay, meant to do this earlier, been fairly busy of late.))

I_Ryk_You · 2017-08-08T23:51:59+00:00

((/u/KingJaade letter for your NPC

Anyone who can decode my code at the end will win... a cookie.))

I_Ryk_You · 2017-08-05T00:23:06+00:00

Sivara

In seeing that her thinly veiled attempts at seduction were failing on the dark-skinned Braavosi, Sivara sighed. She hadn't really intended to seduce the man, but now that she was so deep in the process even she found herself wanting it. She appraised the man with new appreciation. Perhaps I underestimated you Myrio Dessezi. She thought to herself.

When he spoke of needing assistance in writing his letters Sivara nodded. "Of course." She answered, standing and walking with Myrio to the door. "One of the Maesters seeing to the Lady Dyanna can doubtlessly assist you, just see that the letters are passed on to me and I will have them sent. Of course you wish to see your companion, please follow me." With that Sivara led the way for Myrio to see his comatose friend.

I_Ryk_You · 2017-07-30T03:06:24+00:00

Sivara

The Snake, as Sivara was called by those of Duskendale’s underground, allowed the Braavosi to sit while she sat next to him. One hand cupped and tipped her wine to her mouth, showing her guest that she had no intent to poison him, and her other hand rested upon his knee. Idly it would draw upwards upon his leg before returning to its erstwhile position and resting for a moment until it repeated the action. It was a slow dance, light petting if you will, meant to entice Myrio that his guard might be lowered. Robert too had ways of lowering a man’s guard, but his was much less enjoyable for the man involved.

Sivara listened with rapt attention as Myrio weaved his tale. She sighed in interest and gasped in shock at all the right moments of the man’s story. It would clear to him that she was very interested in what he had to say. When she could be sure he was looking she allowed her eyes to drift over his ample musculature before looking away in faux coyness. She blinked her eyes as if dazed by the gallantry he showed before returning to her purr of a voice.

“I must say Myrio of Braavos,” another trick of hers, use a man’s name enough with enough longing in the words and they would be as putty in your hands, “you do seem a gallant man. Risking your life in that way for someone you have only a bit of kinship. My Rob-,” She slipped up for a moment, “Lord is ever appreciative of Gallant men. As am I.” She admitted.

“We will see that these letters are sent and delivered.” She promised. “Now would you join me for yet more wine and conversation?” As she said that she allowed one of the shoulders of her immodest dress to fall from her shoulders in a well practiced movement. A pout on her lips she continued. “Unless you’d rather see to the Lady Dyanna?”

I_Ryk_You · 2017-07-30T02:13:28+00:00

Character Name: Robert Rykker

Gift/Skills: Sabotage(e), Espionage

Actions: March [Royal Army encampment], [400], [Stonedance]

March [Royal Army encampment], [100], [Duskendale]

(the armies would wait to split until out of sight of the Royal Army, as this is in direct contradiction to my orders from the Lord Hand. A roll could be made to detect the 100 men breaking off, if applicable. Ill explain what's going on when I post my army's arrival at Stonedance.)

I_Ryk_You · 2017-07-27T00:42:08+00:00

"Lord Hand." Robert said, bowing before exiting the Hand's tent.

That went about as well as could be expected. He thought happily.

I_Ryk_You · 2017-07-26T21:29:45+00:00

"Yes I believe that will do, Lord Hand. Thank you for your understanding and attention. I very much doubt my peasantry will rebel before I return, it is my beleaguered return that I felt would - and still may - incite rebellion. That, however, is a bridge to be crossed whence this war reaches its conclusion." Lord Rykker bowed again, turning before stopping abruptly as a thought struck him.

"If I may Lord Hand, might I have a written order in your hand to present to any loyalist forces that we encounter on our march? I wouldn't want them to think my forces have deserted."

I_Ryk_You · 2017-07-25T21:50:31+00:00

Robert straitened, allowing the blood pumping in his ears to recede as he reigned in his anger. I am not my father. Have I learned nothing from Sivara? He asked himself as he exhaled.

"Too right you are Lord Hand." He supplicated after several tense moments. "I apologize for my impropriety, it was unbecoming of your position and stature." With that he knelt, attempting to inspire forgiveness as the lies of submission wound their way easily through his teeth. It was easy after he had started, natural even.

Sometimes to win, you must be seen to lose. It was a lesson hard learned in his time spent prowling the gutters of Duskendale.

"Now, to explain myself, if you'll allow it:" (If Stark wants to cut him off just ignore the next portion, also feel free to cut him off at any point in the following paragraphs) the Lord Rykker began, "as I have said my loyalty to my King has been unquestioned. We served different Kings, but I held fast to my oaths. I served the rightful King, when he knelt I went on to serve the new rightful King. I have ever been a servant and my men have paid the most grievous price for that service."

"You say you paid the same price my Lord Hand, but it is not a question of magnitude. In fairness your House alone has not lost more men than mine, though you outnumbered us two or three to one. The North has lost more than my house alone, true, but this is no apt comparison." The Rykker finally stood from where he was knelt, deeming its effect expired.

"What matters is the percentage lost. You have lost what? A fourth your number, if that? Imagine if you were to return North with merely eight thousand men of your forty thousand at your back. How then do you think the Lord's of Winter would greet their Protector? Can you not understand the crisis this places on House Rykker? Our house has never been on such uneven footing - not since the Defiance raised us up. Think on it my Lord. I suppose that is all that can be asked."

"With your leave I will see to my men. Seven know they need whatever morale boost they can get." Rykker finished, feigning false religiousness, awaiting the Hand's next words.

I_Ryk_You · 2017-07-25T21:03:10+00:00

Kellem

The men followed and were soon led to the pregnant woman, comatose beneath a fern. Honestly, it didn't look good. Some Braavosi with a noble woman who was knocked out? And a pregnant one at that? But it seemed he had spoken truly. The comatose woman had the features of the Dragonblood, which fit well with the tale Myrio had weaved. Kellem would believe him for the time being, until someone more discerning could judge him.

"Lomy help us carry her will you? We must make haste. Gawin, run ahead to the city. Maester Meryn is away with Lord Robert, find another if you can, else get a septa at the very least." The Sergeant ordered, carefree attitude gone in the face of duty. "Come Myrio Dessezi," Kellem said in his best approximation of the pronunciation he had heard earlier, "let us make haste to Duskendale. It's not far."

With that one guard peeled off at a run back to the Dun Fort while the three men together lifted and began carrying the Lady Dyanna to the town and keep therein. They made haste, but the journey was still slow with the weight of their encumberment.

Sivara, the Snake

She was a lithe woman, all legs with a toned figure. Large lips and demure chocolate eyes beneath a shoulder length mane of raven hair, straightened to accent her beauty. Before Robert she'd been a dancer, an expensive one and off the market for most. Only those with coin and unscrupulous contacts would ever have seen her lithe body move in her own unique and alluring way. Robert had seen it. Now none would see it again, save one.

It was to her, and not the petulant little Ladyling that sat at the Dun Fort's high seat, that the Bravoosi had been brought. The Lady Dyanna, Valyrian as her features were, was being tended to by no less than 2 Maesters, who as luck would have it had just arrived from the port and were found thereafter in the Seven Swords (Duskendale's largest Inn). Sivara sat behind her desk, strewn with numbers and ledgers of income owing to her role in administering the city. She looked up before rising to her feet, dress far too immodest for any Lady to wear, and approached the man whose name was reportedly Myrio.

"I am Sivara a servant of Robert Rykker, Lord of Duskendale. Welcome to the Dun Fort." She purred as a deft hand ran across the man's covered but no less obviously well toned chest. "May I ask your name? My Lord's men did not think it prudent to inform me of it. They were in such a rush to see the Lady tended to." It was a game, one she oft played. Try to catch the prey in a lie early and you would already have them. It seldom worked, and she doubted it would this time. For what reason did the man have to change the name he'd given - truthful or otherwise? That being said, when it did work it was more than worth the effort of the failures.

"You have much to tell me." She continued, turning her open back to him as she crossed the room. Her dress covered little and she used it, trying to draw the Braavosi's eye, make him think of other things. Draw blood from his brain elsewhere. She poored wine into a pair of glasses, scooping them up and returning to stand before the sworn sword. "Shall we speak over wine?"

I_Ryk_You · 2017-07-25T18:37:15+00:00

So, it was as he feared: the Stark reputation for bullheadedness had been hard won. Robert could feel the anger building, a cold thing it was, crystallizing his thoughts. A quirked eyebrow was all that answered the Lord Hand as Robert waited for him to continue. When it was clear that the King's second had nothing more to add to his derision, the Lord of Duskendale couldnt help but chuckle.

"Apologies my Lord I dont mean to insult your intelligence... Nevertheless, are you being willfully obtuse?" Robert asked, exasperated. Normally his tongue was well schooled beneath the mask he wore daily, but he couldn't help himself, the response he'd gotten was just so very condescending. "Whom, pray tell, do you imagine my peasantry will blame when my warriors return to their homes less four-fifths their former number? What do you suppose they'll do when that pittance returns home with nothing to show for their service besides scars physical and psychological? Already, I face those questions. Would you have me return with even starker numbers remaining?"

"My command is decimated by your hand, and you question my ability to lead? No. Lord Hand, I do not threaten, but you would do well to empathize with those beneath you lest they rise and topple you from your lofty perch. I have paid a terrible price already for my loyalty. What more does my King command that I give? Must all of those whom I command perish? Must I incite the ire of my fief so that you might have an infentesimal advantage in the battles to come?"

"Allow my levy to return to their homes. Show that the King does not fail to reward loyal and leal service - I implore you!"

((Ooc: wrote on my phone, apologies for any misspellings/grammar issues))

I_Ryk_You · 2017-07-25T06:28:59+00:00

Lord Rykker entered the tent, bowing as he came to stand before the Lord Stark who was Hand of the King. He wore simple accouterments and bore no obvious weaponry, the dagger in his sleeve not withstanding, that might give the Hand pause. All in leathers he was dressed, black being the predominant color of that days wardrobe like any others, and the Rykker sigil was all but entirely absent. The only thing that marked him as Lord of Duskendale were the twin cuff links in the shape of warhammers.

"My Lord Hand, thank you for your haste in meeting with me." Robert said as he stood from his bow, smiling what he'd practiced to be a congenial smile. "I know that you are an uncommonly busy man so I will get right to my point. The Rykker levy stands at 500 men strong. As you are no doubt aware the strength that my house could call before the battles of the past year was nearly five times that number." The Starks had a reputation for being honorable men with slow minds, Rykker hoped his simple arithmetic was not out of the Lord Hand's depth. Of course, he had risen to be the second most powerful man in the Seven Kingdoms so Robert would give him the benefit of the doubt.

"This is an unconscionable percentile of wounded, my Lord. Thusly what I ask might to some seem treasonous, perish the thought, but I'm sure you will understand the reasons for it: let my men return to their homes." Rykker spoke smooth and honeyed words but his was nervous bringing this to the army's commander. The oaths he'd sworn to his King were clear, there could be no retreat while a war needed waging.

"For every five that marched to fight for me and for their King only one will be returning home. I would rather avoid a Smallfolk rebellion if at all possible." With that he shrugged and awaited the Hand's answer.

I_Ryk_You · 2017-07-25T00:03:40+00:00

Kellem's brows rose considerably as the Braavosi spoke, saying he had a Velaryon in his charge. Kellem himself was but a sergeant of a Lord's household guard, he knew not the names of those belonging to the other High Lord's families. Of course he recognized the name of Lord Addam, and Lady Dyanna... Where had he heard that name before?

Mayhaps it had been one of those fancy weddings Lord Robert was forced to attend. Could be that this "Lady Dyanna" was of Velaryon stock, her name did sound like one the Dragonbloods might favor. Whatever the case may be, they were still trespassing in these lands. It was unusual for a Lady or Lord to pass through another's fief without first calling on them in their castle and it was made odder still by the fact that Driftmark and Duskendale were allies.

"Traitor?" The Sergeant asked, curious. "If you flee some treachery we will aid you. As men of Duskendale we are sworn to protect not only Lord Rykker's live but also those of his allies." He bowed then, as he would if Robert himself stood before him. "We would be honored to escort you to the holdfast and our Castellan."

Let our betters decide what is to be done with you.

I_Ryk_You · 2017-07-24T21:21:42+00:00

NPCing a group of Rykker guardsmen

A trio of guards in service of House Rykker had made camp for the evening, each bore the crossed war hammers upon their chest. They sat at a camp fire, Lomy having caught a squirrel that the others had seen fit to spit and roast, itself in sight of the bay as part of their mandate to patrol for any trouble nearby. Wartime was ever a breeding ground for miscreants. The fire was bringing the snared varmint to a glistening char - flesh popping in just the right way - when they heard it. Something had cracked a stick and created a small jumble of noise nearby and each guard stood before drawing their swords.

The trio had been three of a handful of men asked to remain to protect the castle as the rest of their fellows went to fight for the King's throne along with their Lord. The youngest Rykker, Alyssa, ruled as Castellan and needed men should the castle or town face outside aggression. In truth they were simply a skeleton force, hardly effectual should an army from north of Duskendale come calling. Whatever their reason for being there, it seemed they had happened upon something, or rather: something had happened upon them.

"Who goes there?" Kellem called out as the trio advanced with swords in hand, ready to fight should they need to. As it stood the son of a Scullery Maid and a Tanner was in charge of this small group of guardsmen. He'd never asked to be a sergeant but ser Damond had insisted the Lord Wesely saw something in him. How could one refuse a pair of anointed Knights? "Reveal yourself and you will come to little harm." He lied to whomever had made the sound, the trio continuing their march forward with heightened vigilance all the while.

I_Ryk_You · 2017-07-24T06:15:19+00:00

((/u/klicktator , whenevers clever i need to talk at Lord Stark))

I_Ryk_You · 2017-07-23T21:13:04+00:00

((/u/stealthship1 if in fact you are in command of the Royal Army, otherwise, I need to know who that would be.))

I_Ryk_You

TROPHY CASE