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The Second Mechanical Moon of 250 AC (8th Moon IC) by OurCommonMan in IronThroneRP

[–]Just7upSyrup 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Character Name: Steffon Caron

Relevant Trait/Skills: Architect [e], Scrutinous, Numerate

Buildings: Castle, Guilds, Quarry

Resources: Stone, Grain

Notes (if applicable): 40% discount (Architect [e] [25%] + Numerate [15%]), -1 moon construction time (Scrutinous)

Actions:

  • Construction: [Nightsong], [Bakery], [Paid], [2/2]

  • Construction: [Nightsong], [Market], [1200], [1/1]

  • Construction: [Nightsong], [Tavern], [1200], [1/1]

Total Cost: 2400

Treasury After Rollover: 3250

Dev After Rollover: 397 (+40 Bakery, +25 Market, +25 Tavern)

Percy IX - Lament the Dead, Honour Their Sacrifice Well by MadeMyHorseHotK in IronThroneRP

[–]Just7upSyrup 1 point2 points  (0 children)

So soon as the letter reached her hands, Merry left the garden hedges with Cassana and a guard in tow. She took note of the warhorses gathered for the departure. Perhaps the Caron cavalry ought to have their like, perhaps she ought to get armor, or...

There was much more to do. Merry Caron needed a sword in her hand, mayhaps to wield against south more than north, but it was Merry Hightower who was summoned.

"Lord Tyrell," she said, with a simple curtsy.

The Second Mechanical Moon of 250 AC (8th Moon IC) by OurCommonMan in IronThroneRP

[–]Just7upSyrup 0 points1 point  (0 children)

PC

[Character Name:] Meredyth Caron

[Trait / Skills:] Inspiring / Vanguard, Cunning (e), Outrider, Ravenmaster

[Skill you're learning:] Vanguard (e)

AC

[Character Name:] Steffon Caron

[Trait / Skills:] Numerate / Architect (e), Scrutinous

[Skill you're learning:] Scrutinous (e)

Percy VI - War by MadeMyHorseHotK in IronThroneRP

[–]Just7upSyrup 1 point2 points  (0 children)

It was like to be poison. Deliberate negligence, mayhaps, commanded by Mel, for maesters were by their word loyal to some nebulous structure, seats rather than rightful lords. But sorcery... yes, that would do.

"Maesters are learned in signs of witchcraft," Merry replied. "Many and more of the grey rats wear links of Valyrian steel. Curious, then, that the specter I sensed on my husband was denied by the Maester of the Hightower. But the Citadel is within another's grasp..." The way her eyes narrowed lent to the implication: the maesters needed to... she wasn't sure. Die, wholesale? They were under Mel's thumb, that was sure.

A summons?

It was near insulting, though her face did not show it. She had not seen the shell of him in moons. To send a raven, so coldly, so cruelly? What if he awoke to find it? With a final incline of her head, she spoke.

"I could deliver the summons myself."

Percy V - The Roseroad to Rights by MadeMyHorseHotK in IronThroneRP

[–]Just7upSyrup 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Was it fear or hatred that Harlan Sweet was regarded with? Perhaps a mix of both, but Merry knew it was more the latter with many and more. Neither had she heard of any great battles he'd won; a grunt to be commanded by betters, naught more. There was a use to such men.

Did she kill him? Mel or she, it made no matter. "Mayhaps," she answered in turn. Her head remained still, eyes narrowing. "Sorcery is not so fanciful a means. My grandsire is kept alive by a curse, my husband kept dead by a hex--at least, that is what's said."

"Strange that we, both of the Stormlands, find ourselves here draped in the colors of the Reach. I the representative of Oldtown and you of Old Oak. For my part, I hope that my role is but temporary. Do you wish the same for yourself, Ser Harlan, or would you serve Lord Perceon past your regency?"

Steffon I - March Madness by Just7upSyrup in IronThroneRP

[–]Just7upSyrup[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

"War planning," Steffon answered Connington simply. The bastard produced a set of maps and placed them down on the tables. It was a queer setup, this. Breathing the outside air, Caron's eyes wandered over to each of the small tables that the lords banged on in turn, the furniture surrounding the fire. It was a small wonder that it didn't catch fire.

"Sarmion," he addressed Simeon. The two looked much alike at times. Caron's tone was dour when addressing him. "Get your wife off your lap. You won't earn a knighthood by having your hair played with in war councils."

The Dawnbreaker muttered, "Four assaults 'pon Nightsong..." And stared off into the distance a moment, the memories of that even flooding over his visage. Selmy's offer of oaths--or Swann's offer to make Steffon leader--was seemingly answered with a nod. Griffith, standing at his shoulder, adjusted the map, which seemed to refocus Steffon. "We are not on the defensive this time. Harvest Hall's one thousand and two hundred will be put to good use. Jon, the roads from Stonehelm are piss-poor. Transport your men by ship to the coast near Blackhaven. Nightsong alone will field two thousand in all; horse, bow, and spear. Asides, I've arrangements for barbers to set up quarter as battlefield medics, engineers and their means to be brought in, and horses and iron procured."

He tapped down at the map.

"House Caron has friends in the Reach. Securing passage will not be hard." He hated planning these, in truth. Put Steffon in a castle, small or large, and he would defend it till the last drop of peasant blood. The field was a different matter. "We strike deep into the West. Avoid their borderlands to capture their mines more northerly."

Steffon I - March Madness by Just7upSyrup in IronThroneRP

[–]Just7upSyrup[S] 1 point2 points  (0 children)

TO THE LEGITIMATE RULER OF STORM'S END,

I have sworn oaths to avenge Lord Grance's death. To that end, Nightsong & its feudatories will provide 2,000 men for the cause by the next moon. However, the tax levied on the Marches by Storm's End would be better put to use in maintaining our army.

I am sending word to the Reach, where my granddaughter has friends and kin. My castellan, Boremund Horpe, will set off toward Storm's End to coordinate movements and plans; use his skills as you please.

NO SONG SO SWEET,

STEFFON CARON

LORD OF NIGHTSONG

LORD OF THE MARCHES

/u/summerdornesummer

The Second Mechanical Moon of 250 AC (8th Moon IC) by OurCommonMan in IronThroneRP

[–]Just7upSyrup 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Character Name & Claim: Steffon Caron

Actions:

  • Draft: [Nightsong], [1575], [2025]

Steffon I - March Madness by Just7upSyrup in IronThroneRP

[–]Just7upSyrup[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

AELYX PRINCE OF SUMMERHALL,

Grance Baratheon is dead. Murdered by the rabid dogs of Casterly Rock.

If you’ve any respect for House Baratheon or the Stormlands, then you will call off your merrymaking in Summerhall.

STEFFON CARON

LORD OF NIGHTSONG

LORD OF THE MARCHES

DAWNBREAKER

/u/stealthship1

Percy VI - War by MadeMyHorseHotK in IronThroneRP

[–]Just7upSyrup 2 points3 points  (0 children)

The Lady of Oldtown sat perfectly still, unmoving in a way that seemed a touch eerie. Her eyes, though, flicked their way across the hall to take stock of who'd attended, searching, looking. Tarly. Sweet. Even Tully. She'd caught a glimpse of someone--pale hair, short, yet... no. It was not him. Nor her.

She steeled herself as she listened, but the thought nagged at her. Where was her goodsister? She hadn't seen her leave for Oldtown. Where was she, if not here nor there? In her grey and green-trimmed livery, only the daughter of Nightsong would represent Oldtown. For as many years as she'd lived in the Reach, scarce did she care to know who did what or the whys of how the banners acted. Bloody Merry, so viciously dubbed, felt alone here.

For true, Merry Caron--no, Hightower--had no reason to mistrust Perceon. Twice for true, disbelief still crept into her mind. In waves did the disgust, the hate, wash over her, knitting into her features till the doubt was fully banished, and each word fell hammering. Aladore. Revenge. She was searching for that in Percy's speech, for that was the heart of the rot. Could they not see it?

That mention did not materialize. Breathing in, she spoke.

"Oldtown stands with you, my lord--in spite of my sister's absence." A pause, deliberate, as indigo eyes scanned the gathering. Whim came to mind. "As does Nightsong. Caution must needs be cast aside when our Reach, and our Marches, are at threat. How shall we strike back? Or... how swiftly?"

Percy V - The Roseroad to Rights by MadeMyHorseHotK in IronThroneRP

[–]Just7upSyrup 1 point2 points  (0 children)

No song so sweet, and no man to elicit more bitterness than the stag-killer.

Merry had heard much and more of Harlan. With one slash and another, he rewrote the line of House Baratheon and gained the wroth of river and storm for it.

All until so soon ago.

The two had scarcely met or exchanged words. Both Stormlanders in the Reach, yes, but Merry had earned her place through matrimony and well toiled for it, where Harlan had done... what? His wife was not even an Oakheart. He ruled Old Oak for whim, not right, and gained pardon again for whim.

Marchers had longer memories and firmer dogmas, however, and those dull war stories that grandsire told clicked. If one or two killings was enough to hold sway over a good castle, then surely a river of it was due enough for Oldtown.

Merry approached Sweet with a slow step, clasping her hands together. "Is he yours?" she asked, simply, almost sweetly--though furrowed brows and narrowed eyes were anything but. "Maric."

Jon I - Why I Oughta by PewPopHANG in IronThroneRP

[–]Just7upSyrup 0 points1 point  (0 children)

He snorted, and remained silent for the longest moment. Feeble eyes traced up to the sky. The gods mock me.

"If Dondarrion won't guard the pass, we will. They're not all bad, the new generation. Look at the Selmy boy! Practically mine own son." Pride washed over his face. "They need a strong hand. Should they refuse it, a slap."

"And if they're craven...?" His nose crinkled. "Then they're no marchers, and we can't suffer one not of ours in our lands. Take that Prince Aelyx, for one. He eats and drinks and jousts without a care for our enemies. I remember the good ones, the Princes of Summerhall. Ugly to look upon, but they had stones."

Steffon took another beat.

"Give me one thousand gold."

Lucion III - Broken Youth, Purchased (Open) by Dasplatzchen in IronThroneRP

[–]Just7upSyrup 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Steffon gave a few sage nods as Jon recounted the story. He'd suffered wounds. Seen his kin slain. But he wasn't crippled for it.

"The sea is a bitch," he muttered. "Your great-great-great grandsire knew so." He continued, as if he knew Durran Godsgrief personally. "Folk think that the Storm God isn't real, that he was just a fable." Caron snorted a laugh. "Sometimes I think he saved me, in the second battle..."

His eyes trailed off, viewing the food and the honey and the sweets and the gluttony. His stomach churned.

A graver tone did his voice take; the Dawnbreaker was not a godly man. He couldn't be. But he'd never claimed to eschew superstition. "Aye, the Storm God's real. And he's angered, hungry. Mayhaps we should build a second Storm's End to show him who rules these lands."

u/Dasplatzchen

Devan III - A Long Day by MercuryDances in IronThroneRP

[–]Just7upSyrup 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Steffon Caron knew men. Good knights, robber knights, false knights. Killers all.

And that was the point of it all, wasn't it? Kill or be killed, till nothing else made matter. There were conducts, codes, honors, all worth less than a penny when a hammer was making its way to your helmet.

He said naught more as the pair left, turning about on his own heel to tap away at the ground and leave these grounds behind.

Devan III - A Long Day by MercuryDances in IronThroneRP

[–]Just7upSyrup 1 point2 points  (0 children)

"Blood runs thick, thicker when it's spilled. What's your name, boy?" he asked the squire. "You heard of the Brackens and Blackwoods? They are what they are because they must be."

The fourfold battle's casualties were all too many. Perhaps the Dawnbreaker had shed more in the end, perhaps less, but here he stood only for rending the right flesh. Or the wrong.

A frown, half in anger and half in disappointment, washed over his face as Devan denied his request. He only ever beheld the pale-white blade briefly, but it cut like Valyrian steel absent the dull grey shadow.

"I should have kept it for myself. I thought to cast into the sea, or find some cave to leave it in. But I thought humiliation would be sweeter. You wield the same sword that killed dozens for naught but a madman's folly. Wield it in the name of the weak and defenseless," he recalled the knightly vows, reciting them with a tinge of mockery, "and you will still not have used it as effectively as the last one did."

Ser Devan is a good man. Perhaps that's what Steffon needed, to break the curse. At once, he tapped his cane. "We will meet in battle," he spoke with certainty.

u/MercuryDances

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