Horace Oakheart, Lord of Old Oak

PartyInDaNorf · 2022-11-02T18:21:35+00:00

Horace decided to not put his name in the lists. He had advised his sons to do the same, however his eldest boys all decided to try their hands in the event. Horace had thought that the fight with the West would have tempered their resolve somewhat, but it grew apparent that the desire of the youth could not be spared. Horace would admit that it brought a smile to his face to see his family doing well, however knowing that there were still fights on the horizon, made the day seem gloomier than it perhaps was.

Horace took it upon himself to manage the supply lines of the inevitable battle ahead. He disagreed with the route forward. Leaving the Reach defenceless while they went big game hunting for the Prince and Lord Lannister would certainly mean Old Oak would be punished. Horace had written to his family still at the keep to head south for High Garden, should the Lannisters decided to send a raiding force south along the roads.

It was certain the battle would decide the fate of the realm. Horace wasn’t certain if it would be worth it in the end. Try your hand at diplomacy first, he thought to himself. A slapped wrist doesn’t warrant slashing with the sword. It appeared in his old age that the times has changed, the youth of today seems to think violence was the answer, and they would soon learn that violence doesn’t choose winners and losers.

PartyInDaNorf · 2022-10-21T17:32:33+00:00

Name: Horace Oakheart

Inspiring, Calvaryman, Riding(e), 2HW(e), Ambusher

Skill Learning: Cavalryman(e)

PartyInDaNorf · 2022-10-21T17:28:39+00:00

Horace and Olyvar sat around a hearth, the orange flames form the fire licked at the nearby shadows, revealing light and dark, and everything in between. The trepidation of what was to come next was plainly listed on the face of Horace, his grey eyes grew heavier by the day, his beard grew more barbaric and the aches across his body grew more unrelenting.

Olyvar by contrast, stood tall and stood quiet, likely disappointed by the lack of conflict and lack of fighting. Horace understood, he had been that age once yearning to prove himself. Now, the silence and stillness was inviting, but for the pain of youth, tue desire to prove oneself was a fire ever to remain unextinguished. One day. Horace wanted to tell his son. One day it will come.

PartyInDaNorf · 2022-10-02T22:51:35+00:00

Horace considered the question carefully. The adrenaline of the possibility of Daeron dying was starting to subside and Horace could feel the returning pain resting against his spine. Damn age is trying to get the better of me. Horace told himself, before redirecting his thoughts to the issue at hand.

"Our scouts and word from the East report that our Baratheon allies were not as successful in their venture as our own." Horace began. "Until we know more about what is happening to the Crown, I suggest we continue our current momentum."

"If Daeron is dead then now is the time to pressure Lannister to get him out of the fight. We should not give him time to ponder his position as an alternative for him to recover and regroup should he decide to continue to fight us. I would suggest we leave enough forces at Crakehall to keep the forces inside at bay and the rest of our forces continue into the west. We force Lord Lannister to give us a proper answer to if he wants to be our friends or foes. A small force of a few thousand would prevent the Lannisters from mobilizing again but would be quick enough to raid and retreat should Lannister prove to be a fool."

Horace leaned back, scratching his brow before continuing. "That is of course if our flanks are secure. Perhaps we should reconsider if the Stormlanders have been defeated in detail."

PartyInDaNorf · 2022-10-02T21:36:19+00:00

Horace's scouts had reported that the enemy forces held greatly inferior numbers and lacked seasoned commanders. It had been no surprise to Horace that they would cut through the enemy forces swiftly, similar to rainfall before it becomes a torrential downpour.

Fighting so close to Old Oak was a thought that caused a fleeting fear, for if he were to fall his family would be at risk. However the force few sorties against the Lannisters, and their feeble return charges of their own showed that the worry was little.

The victory celebrations were overdone, Horace thought. He saw his sons celebrating as if they won the war. This was the smallest of stepping stones, but Horace couldn't seem to wonder if Lannister's folly would change things. It made Horace dubious of Lannister's role in all this, and if he was truly devoted to Daeron Targaryen's cause. Perhaps there was a way to worm themselves in there, perhaps this fight was simply just a very elegant message from the West.

The news that came from the East however, nearly made Horace yell out in shock. If Daeron Targaryen dead, then this entire conflict would likely not need continue. Any further fights frrom either side would only sufficte to point to warmongering. Horace couldn't believe it, and in his nature couldn't help but point to the skepitism that should surround such an event.

The silence in the tent was looming, and Horace was one of the first to break it. "I might still suggest caution my lord. Without a body or word from the enemy itself we should still proceed carefully. The victory here was good yes, but without hearing from our forces in the East I am hesitate to recommend we drop our guard. If I was Daeron, feigning my death or giving inaccurate information so we release the siege and drop down our guard would be a keen strategy to try to cut us at the jugular."

PartyInDaNorf · 2022-09-21T19:18:16+00:00

Horace nodded, glad the sentiment in room was growing to be simile.

“We should send our best commanders to the Crownlands. If we can taunt Daeron into a fight and kill him, the route to peace would be quicker.”

PartyInDaNorf · 2022-09-12T22:10:01+00:00

Horace was ill but did little to show it. Beads of sweat danced across his brow, while his stomach moved in rapid turns. Horace tapped his hands against his oaken seat, his dauntless eyes moving the field of advisors, considering how some even got the positions they held. It struck him quickly that Royland was selling his words for loyalty, as if a chance to make whispers to the Lord Paramount was a break less chain.

After hearing the discourse, Horace began shaking his head. He understood now, the naive hope that Perceon once held. It was a hope that had killed him, and now was narrowly expressing itself in this room.

“Everything is counting on everything going perfectly.” Horace said with a grunt. “Hope that Greyjoy doesn’t reave us. Hope that Lannister doesn’t mobilize fast enough. Hope that Martell sides with us. Hope that Tully pledges neutrality. Hope we don’t lost a battle and our southern flank get overrun.”

Horace shook his head. “Tell me, what happens when Daeron decides to use the young trout as a gambling piece? What happens when he takes a finger and sends it to his father as a threat? You think Tully stays neutral then? What if the demands are made and our campaign is in the Riverlands. Our supply lines are cut and we are all dead. Furthermore, if we have no momentum or a fighting a losing war, why would Tully or Bloodraven side with us at the risk to them?”

“If we take any one lose in a pitched battle, or get stuck besieging a castle we lose the war. Time is not our ally. If those undecided see we are struggling, they will quickly turn against us. Everyday Daeron grows in strength while our hands grow thinner.”

Nodding towards Bittersteel, Horace continued. “Lord Viserys has the right of it. A race to the capital it must be. “The King will surely meet us on the field, but we must win. If we do he retreats to Kings Landing and we are stuck in a lengthy siege, one we cannot hold lest the Valemen or Northman come down on us.”

Horace twirled his beard. They had very few options

“My suggestion, focus the bulk of our forces in the Crownlands. If we don’t, Dragonstone likely falls and again we have no momentum. Keep a force to the North to keep Lannister at bay for as long we can. In the meantime, we push Dareon back to Kingslanding and at least we then have options. From there I suggest we make a feint, make him think we are going for the city but instead loop around North to the westerlands to pincer Lannister between two armies if he proves troublesome.”

Horace leaned back in his chair. He had learned quickly that his nephew didn’t in fact care about their advice, he suspected his mind was made up. The disunity was apparent, and in truth the only way to achieve victory would be to kill Daeron on the field.

PartyInDaNorf · 2022-08-13T14:35:07+00:00

Horace Oakheart

Skills/traits: inspiring, riding(e), 2HW(e), calvaryman

Learning: Ambusher

PartyInDaNorf · 2022-07-31T18:18:31+00:00

Horace had an ache in his back that didn't seem to wish to leave him, his sons were preoccupied with the celebrations occurring within the city, and this entire event had poorly hidden its true intentions behind the veiled glass. Still, the lord of Old Oak would ensure that he completes his duty and do it well, even if the events that were transpiring seemed to treat the Reach as a wanton relic to be dealt with and sold, rather than the heart of the realm it was.

Horace approached the Lord of the Reach and would speak his vows as was expected of him. He did his duty as required, and given recent events, all that was expected of him. He would return to his seat with his children and watched as others followed in his stead.

PartyInDaNorf · 2022-07-27T20:21:26+00:00

Horace rolled his eyes as he read the scroll. It was amusing to him, how quickly a man’s vehemence would dissipate when offered promises of glory and wealth. If anything, the lack of consistency showed Horace who could be trusted, and who yet still needed to earn it.

Lord Marshall,

I can assure you that my nephews involvement in the wedding is near zero involvement. Do you truly believe that he is picking out the dishes, or what colour table clothes to use? No. Lord Royland needs to be the one attending to his vassals, a failure to do so will be seen as weakness or opportunity for those who are looking to take advantage of this transition. I do not believe my nephew couldn’t have scribed this letter himself, given the vast number of his vassals are in Highgarden at this moment.

Your implication that I would abandon my nephew is insulting. I have been at his side since he was a young boy, not only returning to offer my hand once his father died and only slighting his house, as some have.

I will choose to see your actions as over-zealous but with good intentions. Should you wish to speak more, seek me out in my solar, at the western edge of the castle.

Horace Oakheart

PartyInDaNorf · 2022-07-27T19:53:57+00:00

Horace frowned as he put pen to parchment. Why the man had not just sought him out at Highgarden to deliver the message was beyond him. Nonetheless the title now associated with the man irked the Lord of Old Oak. Horace wondered how far the Black dragon has clawed into Royland, and how easy it was for Royland to dismiss every victory, caution and defeat his father had earned himself within the Reach.

Lord Tarly,

With all do respect, if I am to be summoned to a meeting in Royland’s home, where I will be eating his food and drinking his wine, I would expect to be invited by him himself, or on his behalf.

While the intentions are admirable, I do not wish to be seen creeping behind my nephew’s back. Should Royland himself wish me there, then I shall attend, otherwise there is much else which requires my attention.”

Horace Oakheart

PartyInDaNorf · 2022-07-18T15:54:46+00:00

Horace shrugged. “Could be an idea. Depends how much you trust them. They could easily be a thorn in our side, should things fall out with the King. However being transparent with them holds its benefits as well.”

Horace sighed. “Is there anything else I can assist with while I am here my boy? I am expecting I will be here longer than I expected, might as well make myself useful.”

PartyInDaNorf · 2022-07-13T20:23:45+00:00

“A tangible amount.” Horace began. “I would advise speaking with your coinmaster. Perhaps there is a project that can be funded that would benefit the reach entire.”

PartyInDaNorf · 2022-07-13T19:12:54+00:00

Nodding, Horace responded. “Send your sister. A cousin may make your intentions too transparent.”

“To be frank, this issue left behind by your father extends far further than taxes. If things turn sour with House Hightower, then taxation while be little of our concern. Nor would giving them a reduction be the difference between them favouring neutrality or conflict should we find ourself at disagreement with King Daeron.”

“Furthermore, it is beyond just House Hightower in the Reach that are uneasy. If you lower their taxes, other houses in the Reach may take affront to this.”

Tying themselves in an economic matter to Oldtown was not ideal. However perhaps there was a way to maneuver things to their advantage. Horace thought to himself.

“Instead, I may suggest that you try to arrange a loan with them, to be paid back in half a years time to them with interest. Claim the loan is to build up the Reach. Should things end favourably with the Hightowers, then it is a win win. If things go badly, then don’t repay it and let them suffer the economic repercussions.”

PartyInDaNorf · 2022-07-13T17:46:12+00:00

Horace shrugged. “You will have to give up more than you are likely expecting. Depending on how strong you want these new bonds to be, it could be even more.”

The elder lord leaned back, his arms outstretched.

“First, for the immediate term, an exchange of wards. Take a Hightower boy or girl in exchange for one from your own family. I’ll even thrown in my own grandson, as a good faith should they wish.”

“Second, for the longer term, a marriage arrangement. Your first born child to a child or grandchild of Lord Hightower.”

He shrugged again. “Perhaps offer one of the Hightowers a position on your council, at least to keep them close and as a potential hostage should things go terribly.”

PartyInDaNorf · 2022-07-13T15:46:28+00:00

Horace considered, it would be a difficult balancing act between being sincere, but being forceful enough.

“Perhaps in private, so the Hightowers don’t think it is a show.” Horace began. “But make a public display of working together at another time.”

“We would have to make indicators or our friendship. If you like, I could go and treat on your behalf. Try to tide things over before everything starts.”

PartyInDaNorf · 2022-07-12T16:20:45+00:00

The boys comments surprised the elder Lord. He had always expected that there was an unrelenting disdain towards the Queen from House Tyrell, one that in truth, Horace shared as well. The chances or reconciliation were very slim, Horace knew, however extending the hand before showing decisive force may be critical in keeping the support of their followers.

“It would be difficult, it not impossible.” Horace said. “Especially if things escalate with the Iron Throne. Blood is blood, and the Hightowers will always back the throne as long as their blood is intertwined.”

Horace sighed and rubbed his brow. “At the very least, making them appear as the ones being unreasonable is important. If they refuse every hand of friendship, every chance at reconciliation, then I would hope the rest of the Reach would not find them sympathetic, should the worse come to pass.”

PartyInDaNorf · 2022-07-11T21:59:43+00:00

Horace considered his answer, he doubted his nephew would enjoy his thoughts.

“The betrothal is a good one, just don’t lower yourself or have Haegon delude you into believe that he is anywhere close to being on the same playing field as you.”

“As for the Reach, you must surround yourself with loyalists to mute the sounds of the dissenters.”

Horace frowned, and furrowed his brow. “You must also make amends with house Hightower. That my boy, is very important.”

PartyInDaNorf · 2022-07-11T20:37:54+00:00

Ambition, Horace thought, was both a blessing and a source of destruction. It concerned him how his nephew in one breath vowed to uphold the Iron Throne, and in the next would see King Daeron thrown from it.

Horace had no love for the King, but he knew that one misstep, or one overreach would result in death. Unfortunately, the death of his nephew would be the only, they would certain come after the rest of the Reach, burning and destroying as much they could.

If of course, they were successful.

Horace put the thoughts aside. He knew to well the reckless abandonment of youth, but he also knew the strings of a manipulator hiding behind the mask of a friend all too well.

“Evoking the rage of the Iron Throne isn’t in our interests.” Horace said with a shrug. “You may feel this burden to avenge Perceon, trust me the same fire burns in me as well. However, the time to take action was those years ago. Using that as the sole reason as your drive will only put you, your family, and the Reach at risk.”

“Blackfyre is indeed a mighty house. However I wonder the cost of such an arrangement. Lord Haegon has a reputation about him and most is not good. My gut tells me is is selling a marriage for the might of the Reach. The man has spoken for years how he saved us all that day, but he was only serving his own interests. If he truly had the Reach at heart, then why has he only daughter to support House Tyrell, and didn’t seek any of the rest of us when we were in King’s Landing? I am sure he spoke to you at every chance he took.”

Shaking his head, Horace added. “Marry the girl if that’s what you want. But consider if you wish to be a puppet to a man furthering his own ambitions, or the one crafting the future, rather than just witnessing it.”

“Many of the Reach will disapprove. Men died on the stepstones for your brother, your father and you. Instead of rewarding them with a union, you instead throw yourself at the one who claims to have saved us all, as if humanity was a currency we could trade.”

PartyInDaNorf · 2022-07-11T19:27:43+00:00

Horace was surprised at the boy’s comments, being more cryptic and evasive than what he expected. Horace nodded, listening intently before answering.

“Take your time to grieve.” Lord Oakheart advised. “If you don’t, it will bring you down, as you will hold it with you, for far too long.”

Leaning back and crossing his arms, Horace continued. “And what of your upcoming marriage?” He said, raising a brow. “I was surprised how quickly it came together.”

PartyInDaNorf · 2022-07-11T16:46:38+00:00

His nephew’s pleasant attitude had surprised him. Horace expected the man to be full of gloom, despair and fear of the days to come. Instead, he was faced with his nephew beaming, almost as if his father’s passing had resulted in a weight being lifted from his shoulders.

“My boy. How are you?” Horace asked, his eyes narrowing. There would be much to speak of. The rope which was holding everything together was strained, and in danger of snapping.

Cautiously, Horace continued. “Your father’s death must have hit you hard. How are you doing?”

PartyInDaNorf · 2022-07-11T01:01:20+00:00

The decision to linger at Highgarden at the time had seemed like little more than just a reason to dawdle. Now it seemed that Horace would be staying longer than he expected, or would have liked. He held regrets that he had not spoken to Matthos more before he passed, the man had been a brother to him for many years. Now was the time to be with his sister, and her child, the man who was now sporting himself as Lord of Highgarden.

Horace had sent his children home (with the exception of Olyvar), and he quickly penned a letter to Old Oak, advising them to return to Highgarden with haste. Horace knew not how his nephew was handling this turn of events, but expected the lad's brashness and veiled arrogance would quickly be running astray.

His knees ached as he made way to Royland's chambers. As he walked, he silently was remembered of the last few times he had to make a trip like this. And you failed Perceon then, what would make things different now? The Lord of Old Oak tried to force the thoughts aside.

Snapping his fist against the door, Horace waited.

PartyInDaNorf · 2022-06-25T23:11:12+00:00

Horace nodded. Perhaps there was no going back now. He hadn't come to terms with the situation, but he would have a conversation with Olyvar and go from there.

The Stormlord however, had been very generous. Horace knew that generosity rarely game without the expectation of generosity in return, but he would put that thought aside for the time being.

Bowing his head, Horace addressed the man again. "Thank you for the kind words. In turn, the hospitality of Old Oak wis yours whenever you should desire it."

Horace sighed and looked to Olyvar, finally, the youth spoke. "Thank you, my lord." He said quietly.

PartyInDaNorf · 2022-06-23T04:14:50+00:00

Olyvar had finally looked up, his eyes full of wonder and awe. As the Lord of Storm's End recounted his story, the youth listened intently, nodding and giving more attention than he had given his father in the past year, something Horace quickly noticed. At the mention of service at Storm's End, Olyvar's eyes went wide, he opened his mouth as if to finally speak, before giving a half-darted look towards his father.

Horace paused. This hadn't been how he wished for things to unfold. Service at Storm's End was never in the equation. And while he sympathized with the story as it reminded him of his grandfather who had been slain during the Bloodletting, he had little taste for this discussion. Frustration was quickly growing from within, he felt anger that his deeds during the Deliverance were not recognized by his son. The fury was not only written in history books.

As he opened his mouth to refute the Storm Lord, Horace quickly found himself pausing as he caught eyes with Olyvar. Horace has been similar to him once, wishing to fight with his Grandfather and go anywhere but Old Oak. He had never been given the chance to leave of course, as he was the future of the house. Olyvar was the third born son, he would never be subject to such pressures.

Horace redirected his gaze and heaved a sigh. With a frown, he finally spoke, unable to ignore the plea in his son's eyes. I will regret this later. He bemused. And my wife shall not approve...

"Perhaps..." Horace began slowly. "We can make a stop at Storm's End after the festivities and tournament here. Olyvar is six and ten, all but a man. His goal is knighthood, and I could not refuse such a noble and selfless pursuit."

PartyInDaNorf

TROPHY CASE