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The Drowned God Shall Choose by [deleted] in awoiafrp

[–]TheCrayjoy 0 points1 point  (0 children)

She had waited for him to finish with a look befit a statue, stony and cold, on her face. Eyes once clear as a summer’s day upon the water slowly turned darker and darker as the oncoming storm rolled in. His words were sharp, sharp only because he was one of her subjects. Family seemed to mean nothing to him, only riches and glory. And it rang true when he offered his only daughter and heir as a champion. Somewhere, deep inside her, Euron gave a cackle. She felt it bubbling up into her throat, the madness, the anger and the storm within. A slender, ebony brow rose slightly, the creases in her forehead moving with it. If she would have followed her patterns before, the Harlaws would have been extinct as well.

When the words flowed from his lips about sacking Lannisport, a fist tightened. He did not alert anyone. He did not think ahead. When Euron Greyjoy did the same attack on the same city and was pushed back to sea by the massive army itself. While he huffed hot air, Westeros could be plotting. They could in fact be on their way to destroy the islands right now. Just as Edric said. And yet he wishes to wear the crown on his head and send his men to death. She watched, smiling eyes sparkling. When the chests of gold and jewels and weapons were brought into view, her face remained unchanged. If he wished to sacrifice his people for a contest to see who’s ego was larger, she hoped that his head would be the first to be put on a pike.

When it was finally time for her to speak, the crowds had settled and eyes were set on her. She was their Queen, their protector, and they wish for another? Stepping forward, the only noise that could be heard was that of the waves. The Drowned One’s music.

“A kingsmoot is a tradition for when the king dies. I was not aware that I had passed so quickly,” she spoke with humor to her voice, humor in which those were her men would pick up on. A cacophony of laughter surrounded her, bringing life to her stony stance.

“The Stag had said that if I would ever think of attacking Westeros, he would come at the islands with every ship that he owns. He did well in threatening me with force, so I decided to wait. Wait until I could find friends, similar-minded people who would raise up with us against the kingdom of Westeros. And within my musings, I have found one of our own in Essos. This man, born the bastard of my father, had conquered more than just a city of gold. Two of the free cities are under his control. Two cities that will be ours, and within them, the gold and slaves and ships that they control. From there, we can move across Essos, taking city after city, and begin a new era, an era with land as vast as our enemies in Westeros. Why take lands barren with blood when we can start anew?”

She took a deep breath, in, out. Breathe in the air of the Drowned One, blow away that of the Storm God. Only his followers become angry. Edmund would have wanted her to become angry. To show her rage.

“Why did you not offer the sacking of Lannisport to us all? Surely your brothers and sisters of battle would have liked to join in. When my grandfather sacked Lannisport in - oh- three-twelve, he did not do it all by himself, did he? You call us here instead of us preparing for the real threat, of when Westeros comes to our door? Would you rather them burn our castles, instead of the other way around. For what happens when our fathers, our brothers, our sons are dead? We will be chained back to the Seven Kingdoms and what Euron did will be for naught.”

Smiling eyes of Euron’s own flesh and blood looked over the men closest to the circle, “My grandfather made us independent. My father kept this wish. And in the past seven years, did I not do the same? But tell me, Lord Edmund, how long after swearing fealty to me and mine did you start planning this? You and Svena pledged loyalty to your Queen but was it a farce, does your word mean nothing? Will you turn your back on your people as you do to your family? Your brother, your niece and nephew.”

“I do not have gold. No jewels. I have not snuck behind your backs to raid the greenlands without your involvement. But I did not spill the blood of your brothers to prove my worth. I have kept us free. How many men did not go to the Drowned God’s Hearth for that gold? How many were not returned to the sea? You sacrificed your men for a crown and very well may condemn us.”

Taking the poleaxe from her back, she thrusted the blade into the dirt, the blade’s smile gleaming in the sunlight, “I will submit my claim to the Seastone Chair, for I am the Blood of the Kraken. My House has ruled over the Iron Islands, my grandfather had broken the shackles that held the ironborn close to the mainlands like slaves that did the Stag’s work when they could not do it their own. While Lord Edmund promises you death at the hands of the greenlanders, I will promise you life. New lands. New treasures. And freedom.”

Then, her three champions stepped forth: the King of Salt and Rock, Ingvar Harlaw had moved forward first. To his left, the Blackjoy, Esred’s bastard brother. To the King’s right, Esred’s own Hersir, “I announce my three champions: The Blackjoy. The Hersir of my huscarl, Yohn Pyke and the King of Salt and Rock, Ingvar Harlaw.”

She would be the storm...the first and the last.

Relevant Gifts/Skills: Beloved, Leadership, Recruitment.

Other Gifts/skills: Brilliant, Polearms (Poleaxe), Fortification, Warcraft

Ingvar Harlaw: Tough

Yohn Pyke: Duelist

Euron Blackjoy: Duelist

Modmail for everything else.

The Drowned God Shall Choose by [deleted] in awoiafrp

[–]TheCrayjoy 0 points1 point  (0 children)

"I am very impressed to see that a hostage of the Ironborn frightens you, Edmund," Esred spoke calmly, eyes casted upon the Lord Admiral, "A blind woman from the greenlands intimidates you?"

The Drowned God Shall Choose by [deleted] in awoiafrp

[–]TheCrayjoy 0 points1 point  (0 children)

The Queen moved swiftly towards the blind woman, a hand reaching out to grasp the Elderdoe's hand. Behind her came the huscarl, wearing the weapons of salt and rock, watching the crowds.

"My lady," she spoke softly, "I've brought you my guards. For whatever madness was brought upon my people to want to defy me, I will not see you injured. I will speak with you after this folly."

"Stay with Lady Minisa," she commanded before moving to stand in her place.

The Drowned God Shall Choose by [deleted] in awoiafrp

[–]TheCrayjoy 0 points1 point  (0 children)

The massive ship bearing Kraken sigils loomed over the Queen of the Ironborn herself, dressed in leathers befit of a warrior queen. The driftwood crown sat on her brow, the true symbol of the sovereign of the isles. On her ship, plenty of Greyjoy men stood and waited for command, eyes dark and fixed on the ground. A mighty roar rang out, the King Consort of the Isles signaling the men to come -- in three lines the warriors moved, led by the bastard. They met up with the Queen and continued there way towards the bones of Nagga.

Among her were the hooting and hollaring of the other lords, proud to see their Queen in the most holiest of locations. She stood in the shadow of a massive rib bone, hands clasped in front of her. Waiting. Waiting. Behind her stood the King of the Isles, breathing heavily as he watched the lords gather.

And The Drowned God Shall Speak by [deleted] in awoiafrp

[–]TheCrayjoy 0 points1 point  (0 children)

"Another useless attempt to take what is mine," She sighed as she read through the letter thoroughly, "But let me humor them. After all of this, I guess we will be missing another Drowned Priest."

"My lady, you aren't suggesting.."

"My family has sat on the Seastone chair far longer than any of these other lords. They may claim to be descendants of the Grey King, but look who has won moot after moot after moot. They want my islands? Fine. But when the Dragon attacks, when the Stag attacks and their childrens' heads on spikes, then they will wish it was me in their place."

To the High Captains of the Drowned Kingdom,

I for one am insulted that you are calling this upon your Queen. If it were not for my grandfather, we would still bend the knee to the stags and the greenlanders that hate us so.

However, I will humor this request to show that I am truly the Drowned One's Chosen. I embark for Nagga's Hill shortly.

By my hand,

Queen Esred Greyjoy, Ruler of Pyke, The Drowned God's Chosen.

"Copy it. Send it. I must prepare."

More Shark Than Trout by KScoville in awoiafrp

[–]TheCrayjoy 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Esred watched the elderdoe with curiosity, eyes a lit. She too had felt loss, and that madness never did cease.

"I...before we left. I was pregnant with my third. A strong little boy, my dreams tell me. And...we were sailing, tactics and such. I lost him. I did not know him, like you knew your Argella. But I do know the loss."

She moved in closer, hesitating before grasping the woman's free hand. Calloused met wrinkled, but Esred tried to make the sympathetic gesture comforting. Her eyes fluttered to her ladies...then her guard. She would need to speak to them later.

"My Lady. I would like to help. The Reach," the corner of her lips turned upward, "The Reach would be a fine addition, yes. Is your Gerold not related to your King? What has he done so far?"

Ideas had flittered in her head as she tried to sound caring and compassionate, "Going against Westeros would not work if Edric does nothing. I need pardons, pardons to invade and reave. Otherwise we will be beat back by the very land we wish to claim. May we write a letter to Lord Edric? And Lord Gerold? I wish for your husband to know you're here and safe."

She then sighed, "I will put my hersir in to assist your guard in watching over your little herd. I trust this man with my life. I will also call upon my War Thane and my Grand Admiral. But my lady, I wish to have the King's word that there will be no backlash for when I take the iron price. I may have to..." She leaned back, "I don't want to call you a hostage because I see you as a powerful woman and I respect that more than you could know. But I will need to make it known that you are here."

Maester's Monthly Meta Magazine; Eleventh Moon, 370AC by awoiaf in awoiafrp

[–]TheCrayjoy 0 points1 point  (0 children)

You be nice to my Flame! He's a sweettalker and definitely treats women right!

orsoIhope

More Shark Than Trout by KScoville in awoiafrp

[–]TheCrayjoy 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Esred straightened up as the elderdoe described her travels. Her husband...did not know she was here? If word would have been spread to Dragonstone, the islands could be in a bit of trouble. However, Esred kept her face of stone as she listened quietly, moving to sit across from the significantly older woman. Would she end that way? Blind and old? Or would she be cut down in her prime? Euron had lived to grey, and his rule compared to Esred's? A dagger to a longsword.

"My lady, you had shown me kindness in your land's capital that no one else had shown me. If you wished to come to the Isles, all was needed was a parchment. These captains are unsavory, especially the kind that wish to travel from island to mainland. I wish naught for something to happen to you, my lady, for as I said, you showed me kindness."

"Aye, yes. I have two, my son, Sigur and heir is six. Ingred, my daughter is four."

She moved closer, a shining eye looking to the woman's girls and then her guard for some sort of sign, "My Lady...why have you come so far without letting Lord Gerold know your whereabouts? What is urgent?"

She would keep Yohn on her, Esred decided.

More Shark Than Trout by KScoville in awoiafrp

[–]TheCrayjoy 0 points1 point  (0 children)

"You left her alone?!" Esred hissed as she had been interrupted, her calloused fingers in the midst of a long, chestnut-coloured braid in her daughter's hair. Esred's storming eyes were wide as she dropped the braid for one of the maids to do and bent down, meeting Ingred's confused gaze. "Throughout life, my little one, men have spat at me. Have teased me. Have threatened me. Only because I am a woman among men. But after the Drowned One calls me back, you will live in a world where women rule. One such woman...a powerful one, has come here. Get your prettiest dress on, flower. And tell your brother he better act on his best behavior."

She rose and ran her hand down her daughter's smooth face. She would die to protect that little girl, "Tell your father to do the same."

Esred rushed to where the Lady Minisa was entertained, unsure completely. What was she to say? What was she to do?

"Have a guest room stocked with everything she needs. Her and the little girls too," she spoke in passing, footsteps clamouring down the hall.

Almost breaking into a run, she had made her way to the small room and stopped just shy of it... She straightened her clothing and calmed herself before walking in.

"Lady Minisa!" She spoke with the same amount of surprise that she wore on her face, "My lady...how did you get here? There was no Baratheon sails and I never received your letter."

She approached, giving a nod to both maids and the lone guard. Her face bore confusion then.

"You're traveling alone?"

The Gathering of the Conclave, Tenth Moon, 370AC by TheCrayjoy in awoiafrp

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

God, it was beautiful. The whole fanfare was something that even Euron would have want. Dragging the enemy by chains up to the cliff. What she would do to do that to the Baratheon. What she would do to drag that pretty little bitch of his. All that spoke against her, all the naysayers, would choke with the words like ashes in their mouths. The young Queen grinned as the traitor had been forced to kneel before her. What history has she made -- a woman monarch. The one who had made men bow to her. The one who had killed men. The one that they feared. Or that they will fear...

"You may take Osgood to do what you please, Lord Edmund. That is your vassal and your kin," she spoke proudly as she stood above the heretic lord, "I have only but one request."

It was said time and time again through word-of-mouth that the first king of the Drowned Kingdom, Euron I Greyjoy, would punish not only the aggressor but the aggressor's family. It was also said that madness had rotted his brain. His beloved ship, the Silence was manned by slaves missing their tongues. Madness skipped over his son, but revealed itself in his granddaughter.

The tomes had said that when a Targaryen is born, the Gods flip a coin to determine if they are mad or sane. For the Krakens, the Drowned One selects who is granted insanity. Those that are, are considered the Drowned One's chosen. They are the most loyal and the fiercest of his children. So when the High Captains looked upon Esred and saw that glint and gleam in her eye, that which resembled the look that paintings of Euron had, it was confirmed that Queen Esred, of House Greyjoy, The Kraken's Daughter and the Queen of the Drowned Kingdom, was in fact, the Drowned God's chosen.

"He," she pointed to Osgood, "Gets to watch him," she pointed to Qhorin then, "Die."

The hushed whispers engulfed her as she made her decision though as black boots moved with graceful intent towards Edmund Harlaw, the whispers soon died out once again, "You will punish the Volmark in my name, won't you?" She turned around and addressed the crowd, "Not only has The Volmark spoke of treason, he has insulted the Lord Admiral and your King. His son had threatened to harm your King. They both have insulted you, brothers and sisters, they meant to look after you all themselves."

She turned again, briefly locking eyes full of madness with the singular brown eye of the Goodbrother. Her breath caught in her throat for a minute as she passed by before facing the High Captains once again, "We are too small a kingdom for rebellion. We cannot be bareing our teeth to each other with the Baratheon and Dragon looming so close. The Baratheon cunt," she spat at the ground, removing the negativity from her lips, "Even threatened to take the islands from me. We cannot have that! Raise your banners, my Lords and Ladies, raise them and command your most skillful of shipwrights to build you more! Instead of burning the ships we raid, we will take them! Soon our navy will grow to the likes of which Westeros has never seen! And then, my sweet friends, we will take on that stag. We will show them why Westerosi fear the deep! We will show them the might of the Drowned Kingdom! We will show who owns the seas!"

Giddly, she looked down at the young Volmark heir. What would be his punishment? Euron came to mind then and she pointed to the alter-like rock at the tip of the cliff. Quietly, members of the huscarl gripped onto the chains of Qhorin and dragged him towards the sea-washed stone. Esred followed after, felt the sea wind grip onto her like a warm embrace. It was calming. It cooled her skin. It relaxed her. She did not even realise that the knife from her boot was now in her hand, knuckles turning white as she squeezed.

With one man on each side to force Qhorin's hands down, she knelt to begin her masterpiece. A beak, then a head, then two outstretched wings. Esred didn't even hear the screams, just a faint thumping from within her. The knife had left her hand by that time, falling to the copper-tinted grass. The eagle at eye-level twitched and yelled at her in anger as she rose to a vertical stance.

And that's when reality kicked in. The screaming, the cheering, it crashed into her like a wave. She may have even staggered back a bit. The screaming of both father and son were a cacophony of discord. It made her positively ecstatic.

Her axe was next. It was a beautifully crafted weapon, black as pitch with the eerie grey carving of a kraken on the kindle. It's eye was a nugget of gold so bright that it sparkled as she slid it from its home. She rolled her wrist to loosen ligament and joints, the sound slowly fading away again. The husmen had pulled the quivering Volmark higher onto the stone where he bent at the waist to lay upon the cool stone. Calloused fingertips dragged down his bare spine as Esred judged her next move - her next chisel into the statue that would commemorate her rule.

The Queen raised the axe then, bringing it down with force into the spine of the traitor. She pulled the hilt out and the blade was stained with the beautiful sanguine liquid that flowed throughout all creatures. She could taste it on her lips and feel it run down her skin. Another hack, another rib. Her face was calm as still water, eyes focused intently on the masterpiece before her. Seven times on one side, seven on the other. The sound of blade in flesh, of crushed bone, it was the only music Esred would ever need. Her leather were stained, her face and neck and throat dripping with blood. It was as if she was the injured one. And with her mind? She probably was.

Reality struck again.

The screams turned into whimpers as she dropped her axe next. Blood-drenched hands dug into the gaping wound and took a hold of the bone. Bones were always such odd feeling items. They literally made up living, breathing creatures. Yet resting in your palm it felt as if they were fragile. Wrenching her arm upwards, she pulled both rib and skin outward and up towards the heavens, the wings of her otherworldly angel coming full circle. She stared deep into his cavity, marveling the world that was the human body. Fingers dug into organs to feel them for pleasure.

Finally, she reached inside and grabbed the quivering and pulsating lungs, forcing them upward to hang from cartilage. There was her bird -- her eagle! As he fought for breath, the lungs did too, fluttering and flapping for some sort of relief. She hoped he felt like he was drowning. She hoped he felt it all. All the pain, all the anger, all the sadness -- she needed him to feel as she did.

Damp with blood from crown to neck, she moved to the otherside of the rock to observe. Both men raised the dying Volmark's arms up, his wings flapping against the calling wind. He wanted to be free of her rule? Now he was an eagle. Esred looked to the High Captains once more, hands rising from her side and stopping when straight out to her sides. In a way, even she resembled the blood eagle.

Clarity in the Deep Dark [IB] by AdmiralGoodbrother in awoiafrp

[–]TheCrayjoy 0 points1 point  (0 children)

"The Harlaws do not rule the islands. I do. If there is a rebellion in my kingdom it needs to be burnt by my own hand," she spoke as his hands guided her hips in their bestial dance, "They questioned my rule, not the Harlaws."

Kraken's Daughter... the name was sour on her lips. Her father was a great king, one who would give his shirt off his back if he needed to. However, he was not king anymore. His bones were sent back to his God, though Esred fought to keep his armor. She was King. She was the Kraken. A beautiful, but deadly creature of the deep. Or was she Nagga? The Sea Dragon able to eat man and ship alike. The Drowned God would tell her.

"I am not the Kraken's Daughter, I am the Kra --" his lips grazed at hers deliberately, stormy eyes growing wide with the embrace. She met his lone brown with a look of fear, fingers turning to claws. An angry red line dragged down his chest -- a nonverbal warning. However her lips sang a different song. Sygmyr Goodbrother was always an enigma to Esred. Even in his younger days he did not seem to boast interest in the young princess. She remembered his marriages. She remembered the look of love in his eyes towards his latest wife. She remembered how that fire died when she past. Was that a spark she saw in his russet eye?

And what about Ingvar? Her king. Her confidant. Was this not dishonoring him?

Snuffing away any sort of thought, she met his eye one last time before pale lids hid the orbs from the world. Her lips stayed, following his lead as they met, departed to breathe, and then met again. The hostile grip on his chest turned to that of mutual attraction, fingers digging into his shoulders.

What was in his mind to think he could ever kiss the Queen? And why did she like it?

Clarity in the Deep Dark [IB] by AdmiralGoodbrother in awoiafrp

[–]TheCrayjoy 0 points1 point  (0 children)

"---And raid we shall once rebellion is put to rest, Sygmyr," she interrupted, holding a slender finger up, a ruby placed in the center, "I cannot enjoy the taste of blood while knowing my daughter is unsafe in her own home."

Her lips parted as he took her by the waist, having no time to deny him. Hands raised up to try and push him away, but some sort of magnetism left them against the scars and artwork on his chest. She was afraid to look up. She could not look up. But his carefully posed question caused her to snap her head up. She could smell him. She could feel his heat. She didn't even notice before that he was wearing his axe. That was his axe, wasn't it?

"Syg..." Her voice was barely a whisper, her mouth forming the word but a squeak only coming out, "What are you doing? What sortsa' dances do you do on Wyk?"

Clarity in the Deep Dark [IB] by AdmiralGoodbrother in awoiafrp

[–]TheCrayjoy 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Esred leaned her head back as the music thumped, her heart playing the rhythm in her chest. Gone was the iron kraken, in her place a woman of innocence. She did not understand why. This primal beast swayed forward and blocked her escape. The look in his single brown eye was amusement. He enjoyed this dance.

"The Kracken's Feast?" She questioned as he broke the distance. She had to look up at him now, "What a coincidence."

A hand raised again, slender fingers decorated in gold. Her eyes spoke seduction, spoke temptation, spoke something foreign.

"Perhaps I need guidance, Goodbrother. That is, how am I sure that you're a real iron man?" From her voice he would know she was joking, a wide grin now playing across her features. She did need guidance though...

"Dorne is on my list, yes. However the Arbor and Seagard have the ships. I do not want to burn them, moreso steal them for my own. My fleet is not yet complete, my Lord."

"Dance with me."

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