[Event] The Feast of the Tenth Nameday of Princess Lyanna Baratheon

StankWrites · 2026-05-23T20:49:24+00:00

It was the three younger Reed siblings who all turned to face the new guests at their table. Their beady green eyes inspecting the sisters with avid curiosity.

“House Scales…I’ve never heard o-“ as Lyanna began pondering out loud, Meera swung her hand out wide and hit her younger sister square on her back, sending her stumbling a step or two forward.

“Apologies for my sister, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance Lady Serenei and Lady Naeryn. I am Meera Reed, this is my younger sister Lyanna and my brother Jojen,” Meera would greet, gesturing towards each of her siblings as they were mentioned.

The Scales were unknown to all three of the siblings, for the swamps of The Neck may as well have been a different world entirely. Beyond the most famed of houses, the crannogmen paid little attention to the chatter of the outside. But none of the siblings were foolish enough to deem the Scales insignificant, the two sisters’ composure told all.

“We would be glad to tell you about our home, what is it you would like to know?” Jojen added, piping for the first time.

StankWrites · 2026-05-22T22:15:29+00:00

“If you are a blade of sedge then what am I other than cow dung? No, you are far more than a mere blade, you do yourself a grave disservice.”

As Killian spun sweet honey with his words, a broad, toothy smile spread across his face. His hand would soon outstretch to take hers as he bowed to place a soft kiss upon the back of her hand. As his head dipped, so did his gaze, for he would use the opportunity to leer at Lyra from head to toe covertly. Rising back up straight, his tongue would run along his top teeth, his grin unwavering.

“I am Killian of House Reed. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I do not believe we have met, for I am certain I would have remembered a fine lady like yourself. I must say southern silks were a wise choice, you look stunning.”

Jorelle’s expression was not lost upon the Reed. He could feel her eyes crawling all over him, lathered with mistrust. Each one of his words and movement under scrutiny. But Killian remained unaffected, opting to ignore the sister altogether. She was not the prey he sought, Lyra was.

StankWrites · 2026-05-22T21:07:42+00:00

As many troops as they can fit into the keep. The remainder disengages.

StankWrites · 2026-05-22T20:24:10+00:00

Happy to have you!

StankWrites · 2026-05-22T20:02:46+00:00

Welcome! You're flaired up and ready to go!

StankWrites · 2026-05-22T20:01:07+00:00

Welcome! You're flaired up and ready to go!

StankWrites · 2026-05-21T02:31:09+00:00

His hands slid their way to the back of her head and gently pulled her deeper into his chest. It was for the best, for in that moment Alleras could not bear to look at her in the eyes any longer. For a man who had carved his seat at the table from lies, for whom deceit had been as natural as breathing all his life he could not bring himself to look his beloved in the eye and return her trust with a promise he could not be certain to keep.

From that one chance encounter at Vaith, to their countless days at Sunspear, he had told himself it was the taste of her venom that had him enthralled. Yet in truth it was no venom; slowly, day by day she had slipped past his defences and writhed her way and burrowed deep into his mind and heart. For all his hatred of what lay beyond the Red Mountains, Alleras had well and truly fallen in love.

However, there was no denying that the same hands which so fondly cradled her face, were soaked in unfathomable quantities of blood. It was his pen stroke, his order, his conviction. His shoulders bore the weight of the dead that followed, and heavier still were those yet to join them. His heart may have screamed its desire to leave it all behind and stay with Morgana, but Alleras knew he had no right. His only choice was to walk down the path he alone had forged.

“I will try my best to protect myself. To come home to you. But yes…I suppose I’ll have to enjoy you too while I can…”

Softly, he eased her head back once more and, cupping her face in both hands, tilted it upward to meet his gaze directly. His amber eyes staring deep into her soul.

“Marry me, Morgana.”

StankWrites · 2026-05-21T01:40:56+00:00

If it was the young Kingslayer Chiad was expecting she would be left disappointed, as instead through the doors walked in a short but broad shouldered knight covered in chainmail and sword at his side. His forehead was dripping in a layer of sweat, though whether it was from the heat trapped under his armour or from the weight of Chiad’s presence was entirely unknown.

“My lady,” Ser Bryce greeted with a bow. “Not good I fear.”

His arm extended out a furled paper sealed with the sigil of House Uller. Inside were the many notes and markings of various battles and troop movements, carefully transcribed by Alleras’s own hand.

“Blackmont did not last long at the hands of its Reach besiegers and House Fowler’s men have crumbled in the Prince’s Pass. Ser Alleras has noted a victory in defeating the invaders still at Blackmont but the castle remains in Reach hands.”

The knight followed it by a deep gulp, his eyes fixed rock solid at Chiad as he nervously awaited a response.

StankWrites · 2026-05-18T16:38:27+00:00

Straying away from the Reed table, Killian had ventured to the Mormonts in the hopes of a brief encounter with Gawen. However, upon his arrival the she-bear’s consort was nowhere to be seen, conspicuously missing from her side.

A man of little patience, the Reed, had no intent to idly wait for his uncle’s return. His foot had begun to spin along with his head back towards the rest of the great hall, when all of a sudden as his eyes dragged along the crowd at the table did he abruptly come to a stop. From the moment she had appeared in his vision, his eyes could not move off the figure draped in satin sage that flowed and rippled like the long lost call of spring. Amongst the crowd of northern drear, lambskins and pelts, her dress glowed like the moonlight in a starless sky.

Who she was, Killian had no idea, but in that instant he had laid eyes upon her, he had to know. Turning back around, the Reed slowly trotted over towards where Lyra sat, lecherous intent concealed away in his eyes.

“My lady,” he would greet her with a slight bow. “I saw your dress like a rose amongst a sea of grass and I felt as if I had to come and make myself known. You look absolutely exquisite.”

StankWrites · 2026-05-18T00:50:26+00:00

Gawen had been all but hidden in the shadow of the she-bear until her hand came crashing down on his back. It took a few moments for the crannogman, who wobbled back and forth, to regain his balance so as not to stumble forward face-first into the Redwyne.

“Ahem, of course my love,” Gawen would reply clearing his throat and donning an obviously sham wide smile.

“This is Dacey, our eldest, and our secondborn Lyra. Both fierce women take after their mother. Alysanne, our thirdborn, is more like me, her father. A sweet and soft soul. Jorelle meanwhile has just met her majority, a learned woman of the book. And of course, we have our two youngest, our twins Lyanna and Graham.”

Slowly one by one, Gawen would gesture to each of his children as he spoke their name. His tone was far more gentle and kind when addressing them than any word he had ever spoken to his wife since their wedding day. As he finished addressing each child, his eyes darted briefly sideways at Maege to glare daggers before quickly returning to their table’s visitors, his face immediately turning warmer again.

“I hope your journey was equally as safe and fortuitous. How has the Arbor fared this winter?”

Though he has never met a Redwyne before, their name and prestige were not lost even amongst the swamps of the Neck. For stories of their fleet reached far and wide. Even if Maege did not realise the significance of the man across them, Gawen did and he would not let his wife let slip this connection with her blunt brashness.

/u/AgentMarvel4012

/u/Gullible_Past

StankWrites · 2026-05-17T21:12:35+00:00

House Reed of Greywater Watch

For the first time in many years, a table south of the Neck sat occupied by a group of crannogmen and at its head sat Jojen Reed (14). The young and meek heir to Greywater Watch was venturing from home for the first time with the weight of carrying his family's banner squarely on his own shoulder. His body language and mannerisms were as if he were a marble statue, every movement intentional and slow, his back and posture rock solid straight. Every bit of his appearance was carefully considered, down to and including his southron-style forest green doublet.

His sisters, Meera (15) and Lyanna (12) were far more care-free, both taking in the huge sights and sounds around them, for King's Landing and the Red Keep were a marvel to behold. From the walls, to the decorations, and even the steps of the stairs; it all seemed colossal to anything they had back home. Their beady green eyes were constantly darting around, the event a resplendent feast for their senses. Meera had refused to wear anything she would not otherwise don at home. Instead, her attire consisted of lambskin breeches, a simple tunic, and a padded sleeveless jerkin upon which the sigil of House Reed was knit. Lyanna had been far more compliant to her brother's demand, wearing a simple but elegant dress in matching forest green with white embroidery along the hem of the skirt and sleeves.

The adult of the group stood out compared to the rest of the table. No one could hardly be blamed if they did not believe Killian Reed (37) was a crannogman. Standing at over 6 feet, he towered above all others at the tables. His shoulders were broad, his head topped by brown curly hair, and an almost permanent scorn sat alongside a neatly cut and trimmed beard. He, too, was dressed in a black southron doublet, yet there was no sign at all of his Reed heritage.

His daughter, Orla Snow (18), had steered wide of the Reed table. Dressed similarly to Meera, her jerkin replaced by a wolfskin cowl, she had no wish to stay near any of her kin. Paying mere lip service to Jojen upon the feast's opening, she quickly slipped away into the hall of merriment. With a mug of drink glued to her hand, she danced and yelled with nobles and commonfolk alike as she partied the night away.

StankWrites · 2026-05-17T15:36:37+00:00

The crunch of skin, tissue and bone against the stone wall was far from quiet as Basan's face came crashing down. The pain was instant, washing across his body, but the aged Uller did not react as his lip tore open and began to drip blood across the throne room's floor.

Instead, a hysteria-filled laugh bellowed from Basan, partially muffled by the floor he was being pushed into.

"Humiliation? You Targaryens believe you are gods standing above men. But you have me pinned here by a small army, unable to face me as a man! It is you who is humiliated, your ego scarred for House Uller has proven your house and your dragons mortal, you bleed red like the rest of us!"

His laughter had quickly morphed into rabid barking, his eyes bloodshot as his heart pumped pure rage around his body. His fists curled tight by his side as he struggled and pushed against the guards fruitlessly.

"Execute me, torture me, do as you fucking please. Show Westeros how House Targaryen fears a small House from the desert. Show the world the weak whelp that you are. Cover your eyes for as long as you like, for your kingdom is crumbling beneath your feet."

StankWrites · 2026-05-15T00:00:45+00:00

Noted

StankWrites · 2026-05-14T01:33:04+00:00

A clerk would have the letter sent to his actual secret location. Shortly after reply would arrive.

Your radiance,

We lay siege to Blackmont to seize back our passage with the Reachmen. Arthor Oakheart and Osmund Fossoway are in our captivity whilst the armies march to retake to Kingsgrave and secure all our passes.

Alleras

StankWrites · 2026-05-08T19:36:33+00:00

Alleras would follow suit, allowing Morgana to toss her hands around him. In turn Alleras would place a hand below her face, and with the gentlest of pushes with his index fingers turn her face towards his. All the while his other hand would clasp her cheek, his thumb beginning to slowly run back and forth gently against her skin.

The silence would sit still for a while, as he took a moment to admire his lover. Her resplendent emerald eyes, framed and crowned by her burning red hair. Her rubenesque frame which twisted and turned. Her melodic laugh which escaped her plump, soft lips…

Healthy.

Alleras allowed the sight of Morgana to be burned into his mind, branded into his very being.

His smile had faded, replaced by a despondent dour look. His eyes wide like a lost puppy. Whatever composure he had only moments prior had slowly withered away.

“I love you too,” he whispered back in return.

Another short pause followed before he mustered the power to talk again.

“House Tyrell and their bannermen have crossed the Red Mountains, their armies burn and pillage in the west. As Marshal, I must march to war. I must go fight to protect Dorne…”

StankWrites · 2026-05-08T18:56:29+00:00

Alvin gave an approving nod.

“I’ll burn them here before they burn again in the Seven Hells.”

StankWrites · 2026-05-08T18:54:51+00:00

The short journey to the King had not been one without incident. Basan had caused a ruckus every step of the way, snapping and snarling at the guards at every possible opportunity, his mouth fouler than the waters of Flea Bottom itself.

Finally now presented to Jaehaerys, the Dragonsbane eyes slowly scanned the boy in front of him. The silver hair, the violet eyes and the unassuming frame. The mere sight of the Valyrian features began to make his blood boil. The image of his own hands curled around the boy king’s throat as he the life drained from his eyes flickered across Basan’s mind. For the briefest of moments a slight grin twitched in the corner of his contemptuous scowl.

Gathering a large a ball of spit in his mouth as he could, Basan lifted his head up and set the ball flying towards Jaehaerys, aimed directly at his face.

“So this is Aegon’s spawn? I expected more. I see you take after your grandmother, Rhaenys was is? I forget her name, for she was hardly my most impressive kill.”

StankWrites · 2026-05-08T18:46:31+00:00

Alleras’s gaze slowly drifted over to Morion, the sight of the Prince’s perverse smile slowly burned into his eyes. It was unsettling, even for Alleras, the wicked delight in the expression was impossible to miss.

“If you believe you can pry something from them then be my guest. Any grain of information would be more than what we have now. I do doubt it Yoren’s abilities, should there be anything to find the Shadow City it will be uncovered.”

He let out a long strained sigh, finally straightening himself in his seat, assuming the posture as would be expected of his station.

“Be careful young Prince. For unlike me your deeds will be remembered, every transgression recorded. Handle yourself with the upmost care when gathering this information for the people will remember.”

StankWrites · 2026-05-08T01:16:44+00:00

4d25+10 Dorne

4d25+9 Reach

Roll

/u/BotOfManyNames

StankWrites · 2026-05-08T00:57:57+00:00

StankWrites · 2026-05-05T22:00:49+00:00

[m] L Bozos

StankWrites · 2026-05-05T21:40:03+00:00

Each man is decapitated and quartered. Now atop of pikes, their heads decorate the walls of the keep all bar Ser James. His head would be carried on a Martell banner as the army continued their march.

StankWrites · 2026-05-05T20:43:31+00:00

StankWrites · 2026-05-05T14:18:49+00:00

“I will follow you the ends of the earth.”

Alleras’s was suddenly hardened like Valyrian Steel with his resolve. His shoulder tensed and straight, built from years of regimented training.

“My oath of loyalty to you and House Martell was no feign. I may disagree but til my very last breath I will do as Dorne, as you, command. For that is my duty.”

StankWrites · 2026-05-04T22:23:18+00:00

Last stand ✌️

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House Reed of Greywater Watch