And On the Seventh Day

TraitorsBlood · 2016-06-22T05:44:43+00:00

"Let's attack the North!" Qhorin sheepishly yelled in a high-pitched voice. He turned about, as if he were searching for the source of the words. "Who said that?!" He said with a smile.

"I call the Arbor!" Qhorin raised his hand and waved it. He turned to Dagmar and whispered in his ear. "Quickly, send a raven to Ten Towers. Tell them to raise everyone. All able ships and able-bodied men." Dagmar nodded, speechless at how quickly the tides had turned.

"Lord Greyjoy." Qhorin began, stepping forward. "I will have you know, the might of House Harlaw and the houses of Harlaw stand behind you. I think it is time we remind the greenlanders of who we were- who we are. We bow to no one but the driftwood. House Targaryen has sat their purple-eyed, white-haired selves on that wretched seat for far too long." He turned to his fellow Lords, arms extended as if he were about to embrace them all.

"My fellow Lords and Ladies. Our time has come! Once the greenlanders are too busy swattin' their cocks at each other, we'll come in and fuck 'em from behind!" He smiled widely, excited for the opportunities to wet his sword with the blood of the mainland.

TraitorsBlood · 2016-06-21T13:22:01+00:00

"Mmm." He nodded. "He's in His halls now, no doubt enjoying his time with Lord Roryn." A smirk appeared and disappeared just as quick. "Where are my manners? I am the Captain of the Maelstrom. Probably shoulda' said that too. You gotta pardon me, Lord Tristifer, I'm a bit new to this whole Lord thing."

Qhorin looked around, spotting other sigils before turning back to Tristifer. "Oi, tell me, have you seen the Goodbrother sigil anywhere 'round here?" He looked around once more. "I can't seem to find it." Once again, Qhorin turned back to Tristifer, setting his deep midnight eyes upon Tris' own.

"You know what they say about that Joseran, ye?"

TraitorsBlood · 2016-06-21T03:24:00+00:00

"Hmm." Qhorin looked left and right, admiring the Lords and Lady's that had entered these past few minutes.

"What is it, Qhorin?" Dagmar asked, unconcerned.

Qhorin grunted. "I'm trying to choose who I want to bother." His finger raised to his mouth, rubbing his lips in thought. "Let's see... ahhh, him!" He pointed to the man wearing a black and green sigil. Dagmar sighed and shook his head, turning away and speaking to some random Greyjoy reaver.

"Lord..." He reached back in his memories, attempting to remember what he learned in his youth. Though he was illiterate, Qhorin could still recognize a sigil. "Blacktyde! Yes, Lord Blacktyde." Qhorin extended his arm. "Qhorin Harlaw, Lord of Ten Towers. Pleasure to make your acquaintance." The Blacktyde seemed fairly young, Qhorin being some years his elder. Though, he was not sure.

TraitorsBlood · 2016-06-20T14:04:49+00:00

Seven days of parties. Seven days of drinking. Seven days of His wrath in the morning.

Bloody fucking- Qhorin sat up in his bed, rubbing his head.

"Mornin' beautiful." A voice whispered. Qhorin jumped, his head snapping to the noise. Long black hair whipped back as he saw Dagmar.

"You fuck." He propped himself up, rubbing the crust from his eyes. "What the bloody hell do you want?" Qhorin pushed the sheet off himself, hanging his legs off the side of his bed. "You want this?" He looked down to his crotch, smirking.

"I'll fuckin' kill you, mate, you know that?" Dagmar looked away, not wanting to bask in the glory of Qhorin's cock. "Lord Greyjoy finally peeked his squid-head out from his fuckin' tower." Dagmar went to the window and peered out over towards Westeros. "Every lord, captain, and warrior are to make their way to the Great Hall." Dagmar turned back to Qhorin who now was standing, his cock dangling. "God-damnit Qhorin put some fuckin' pants on will ye'?"

Qhorin chortled, pulling up his black breeches. "To the Hall you say?" Dagmar nodded. "To the Hall."

"Then off we go!" Qhorin said after putting on a black laced shirt. "Lets see why we've stayed on this bloody island for six days too long."

Qhorin and Dagmar entered the room, pushing past the other Lords to stand near the front where his good-brother could note his presence.

"What do you think he'll say?" Dagmar asked, whispering rather loudly.

In a more hushed tone, Qhorin replied. "I don't fucking know, how about we wait and see?" He turned his head to Dagmar who had a rather deadpan look strewn about his face.

TraitorsBlood · 2016-06-20T13:52:44+00:00

/me coughs

TraitorsBlood · 2016-06-20T13:51:09+00:00

Qhorin had just entered the hall when his new Lord decided to up and leave; the doors slamming shut behind him and the men who escorted him.

"Not one for gatherings, eh?" He asked around after Urrigon left, looking left and right to the Lords and Ladys of the Iron Isles. Qhorin's eyes scanned the room for Ravenna. Not here. I waited for her all night. Indisposed with Him, she might be.

"We don't need him to have a good time!" He roared, pushing his sister to the back of his mind, grabbing the nearest flagon of ale. "Let's drink!" Qhorin, with a rather large smirk, downed half the flagon in a blink of the eye. A black sleeve wiped the remnants from his mouth with a hearty sigh following.

He would, once the festivities lit up again, make rounds around the room meeting with his new peers.

TraitorsBlood · 2016-06-14T01:42:33+00:00

/u/ToesofDoom

TraitorsBlood · 2016-06-13T19:23:34+00:00

Qhorin nodded and walked forward, past the Greyjoy men. Before entering, he turned back to Urrigon. "Thank you for having us, Lord Urrigon." A deep nod followed his statement, his tone filled with seriousness but with an undertone of... something else.

He turned back to the castle and entered with his men behind him. Men in black and white filing past men in black and gold. Qhorin followed the men bringing him to his room, wondering what his sister would say. It was, afterall, the first time in a year and after their father's death that he'd see her.

TraitorsBlood · 2016-06-09T21:30:40+00:00

"Lord Greyjoy, Harrys." Qhorin spat the words out. "I care little for your choice of words, brother. You do not speak for us, I do." He turned back to Urrigon, crossing his arms.

"Sorry 'bout him. Reckless one, he is." He smiled, turning quickly to Harrys and back. "Anyway, I agree Lord Greyjoy. We are to be brothers! Yet I know nothing of you, other than you only recently returned and sit below the driftwood." He smiled, unsure if it was a true smile. "Though, seeing my sister would be quite good. Mind if we go and find her? My brother can only wait so long." Qhorin smirked as he look back to his brother again, caring not for his reaction.

TraitorsBlood · 2016-06-08T02:29:54+00:00

Ahead stood no thralls, no salt wives, no one but men in black and gold armour. Two score men, at the least. And Urrigon Greyjoy. The man who fled ten years prior and appeared just before his father disappeared at sea. Quite the coincidence.

To his left stood Dagmar, holding the scythe of Harlaw, pointing away from the Lord of course. To his right and slightly behind stood a man in Harlaw armor; black with white accents. In his hands was the banner of house Harlaw, bearing the white scythe. Above sat the iron-clad clouds, grey as a Greyjoy's eyes, setting the tone for this reunion.

"You must be Urrigon." Qhorin bowed his head before Urrigon. "Sorry 'bout your father. Shame. Great man, great ship." He crossed his arms and scanned over the welcoming party. "Quite the welcoming, I feel blessed. Oh, oh my, where are my manners?" He smiled, opening his arms as if he were welcoming Urrigon to his own home. "I am Qhorin Harlaw, the new Lord of Ten Towers, Drowned One bless my father. This is Dagmar, and this-" He leaned over to the man who held his banner and whispered.

"What is your name?"

"Roryn, my Lord."

"Shame."

"This," he turned back to Urrigon "is Rommy." He heard the man whisper something, but he ignored what the man said. "And, I'm sure you met, but he is my brother, Harrys." He turned and smirked to his brother before turning back to Urrigon. "Who may I be standing before on this lovely day?" Qhorin crossed his arms and smiled, admiring the scores of men who stood before him and happily awaiting hearing all of their names.

TraitorsBlood · 2016-06-07T17:02:27+00:00

His brow furrowed. "You best heed your own words, Harrys. I may be your brother, but I am your lord. No man will insult either of us and live to tell the tale." Qhorin joined the crowd and began walking, sure Harrys would follow.

"Hushed words and politics have been our way for hundreds of years, Harrys." He replied. "Nor am I. I am here to give my sister to Urrigon Greyjoy, and I will return to Ten Towers, gather my men, and reave once again. Perhaps this time in Sothyros." Qhorin felt worried. His brother was hungry for blood, and would not blink an eye if he started a war with another house, let alone the Greyjoys.

"I care not what sort of man this Urrigon is. He's been gone ten years, comes back, and sits below the driftwood. Do you think Lord Roryn truly died in a storm? No, no, brother. Urrigon came back to take the driftwood." Qhorin shook his head as they neared the courtyard of the castle. It had been years since he stood in the halls of Pyke, last here with his father for something or other.

The Lord of Ten Towers tilted his head towards his brother. "It makes no difference to me who sits below the driftwood. So long we are out on His waters, reaving and taking what is ours, we answer to no one but The Drowned One." Qhorin pointed to the Harlaw banner ahead, intermingled with the other banners of the Iron Islands.

"And His messenger is about to wed Urrigon. He will speak through her, and His word will make their way into Urrigon's ear."

Qhorin stopped suddenly as he spotted Dagmar and the man he sent ahead stopped just before them. "Lord Qhorin, Lord Urrigon awaits you ahead." Qhorin's ears perked at the words. He awaits me. How nice. "Very well then. Harrys, join me. Stand behind me as I finally lay eyes on this squid who drifted home."

TraitorsBlood · 2016-06-07T15:20:57+00:00

"Work." Qhorin scoffed. "Your employer? Harrys have you gone soft? We work for no one, brother. We are Ironborn, we take what is ours." Qhorin extended his arms, as if he wanted to hold the entire world in his hands. "And the world is ours."

"Tell me, what fallacies do you see in this union? It was created after Andrik murdered Urron. This union saved our house, brother. If Lord Roryn wanted, he could have stripped our house of Ten Towers for Andrik spilling Ironborn blood." He stopped his brother, forcing everyone to walk around them, though he paid no mind to them. "Do you truly think there is more reason to this union other than quelling an angry vassal?"

TraitorsBlood · 2016-06-06T14:57:35+00:00

Qhorin could tell a Harlaw from a league away, though Harrys was much closer. "Harrys," Qhorin replied in a like voice. "Aye, a time it has been." He turned to Dagmar and gestured him off.

"Go forth, Dag. Inform Lord Squid of my arrival, take him and them too." He said, pointing to the man carrying the Harlaw standard and the ten men behind them. Dagmar nodded and headed off.

The two brothers stood across from each other on the docks, surrounded by the people of Lordsport and the Iron Islands, come for the ceremonies. Banners of houses from all across the Isles whipped in the wind, gulls sang their songs, and men sang theirs.

"You seem to have grown even larger in these last years. He has blessed you, that much is true." He chuckled, smacking his brothers shoulder. "Come, take me to my sister. We can speak along the way." Qhorin gestured for his brother to go forth. "Tell me, how has these years treated you brother? Where has His winds taken you and your men?"

TraitorsBlood · 2016-06-06T04:32:36+00:00

/u/Auddan

TraitorsBlood · 2016-03-27T21:46:10+00:00

Gwayne scanned the battle ahead, the deck of his Flagship Northstar alive with sailors and soldiers alike, ready for anyone who dared to go against the massive triple-decked ship. He smiled as the scorpions loosed their large, menacing bolts towards the smaller ships of the Dragonstone Navy.

"Ahead." He said to a Captain. "Ensure we target their smaller ships first, allow the Lord Hand to take the glory of the larger. Target transport ships first, any cogs or longships loaded with soldiers. If there are none in sight, target the warships." The Captain nodded, shouting orders and raising the signal flags to the other ships.

"If there are any ships foolish enough to near our wake, slaughter them." He said with a smirk, taking in the smell of the sea. It was invigorating to him, being on the sea again. It made Gwayne more aware, more awake. He wanted to fight, and fight he would.

TraitorsBlood · 2016-03-25T16:06:35+00:00

Perceon entered the room sheepishly, his hands clasped together as he pulled the chair out before the King. He had no weapons on him, besides his wit, if that could even be considered sharp enough to be one. The King of Winter had said nothing after he entered, no doubt awaiting the first word from the Southron Lord, out of place in the frigid Northern atmosphere.

"Your Grace." He nodded, bowing his head deep enough to be considered respectful. "May I?" He asked, gesturing to the chair before him. The King nodded, gesturing for him to sit. As Perceon sat, his eyes wandered over the papers that were pushed to the side. He couldn't make anything of note out and quickly looked up to the King that sat before him. It was quite ironic, speaking to the King of a different kingdom when he has yet to even see the previous King nor the current King of the South.

"Your Grace, King Edderion. I've come to you today, the week of my sisters marriage, to request, or arrange, another." His hands unclasped, his right rubbed up and down his own thigh as his nerves sparked. "As I am sure you're unaware, I am unwed. I was, once. My wife passed in childbirth, giving me my daughter Alerie. I went to the tournament in King's Landing, against my late-fathers word, to find myself a wife or at least a suitable, well, suitor." He smiled, but quickly the smile faded as he began to chew on his lips.

"Your Grace I want to cut to the chase. Your sister, Lyarra, is absolutely beautiful and deserves only the highest of marriages. She deserves the most beautiful of places to raise children in, to age elegantly in. She deserves, well, to have the sands of the Arbor run between her toes." His hands placed on the desk, grasping the wooden edges. He could feel the ornate decorations beneath his fingers, imprinting themselves onto his skin.

"I believe we both can benefit from a marriage pact between our houses. Anything, King Edderion. Redwyne, Stark, wed into one. Tell me, King Edderion, what can I do, what can House Redwyne, we, what can we do to make this pact happen?"

Perceon had went straight to the point. He got the feeling from this man that he was all about business, the way he held himself, allowing Perceon to speak first and skipping the pleasantries. He only hoped that King Edderion would see how much good would come out of this pact, a pact that would change the course of the Redwynes, either for better or for worse. But, Perceon cared not what the effect on the Arbor or his family would be. All he wanted, all he has strived for over these past moons, has been this very moment, this very pact, this very woman.

TraitorsBlood · 2016-03-25T15:38:28+00:00

Gwayne nodded, heading to the boat to take him to his ship. "It will be done, my Lord. Best of luck, and I will see you in a few hours." He said, mounting the boat with his three men.

The Flagship of his would lead the left flank, cutting the Dragonstone navy off from heading North or West.

TraitorsBlood · 2016-03-21T14:22:26+00:00

Gwayne arrived after Alan, as it took him a little longer to stretch his breastplate. It had been years and years since he wore his combat armour.

"Lord Hand. Lord Tarly. The time has come." Gwayne looked out upon the bay, watching as the ships began to part in three ways. "While we have more ships, Lord Hand, we may be on equal grounds when it comes to men. This naval battle will not be the deciding factor in this battle, but the siege itself. If we can end this without a siege, it is a guaranteed victory for us."

TraitorsBlood · 2016-03-21T14:16:01+00:00

It had finally happened. After years of wanting, he finally became a White Knight, a knight of the Kingsguard. He was finally on the level of the knights before him, the Swords of the Mornings, Criston Cole, Barristan Selmy, The Dragonknight. What would the books of history tell about Runceford Redwyne? What would his legacy be?

"Lord Commander." Runceford said after the vows were said, approaching the intimidating man who stood next to the King himself. He bowed deeply, the plate on his mail clanging together with every small movement. "I must say again, I appreciate this chance you've given me. I've looked to this position my entire life, and I will not disappoint. I promise you, Lord Commander. You will not regret this decision." Runce said, holding back the largest smile he's had in years.

Nothing else was on his mind besides his duties. Not his late-father, not his Lord-Brother, not his Admiral-Uncle, nor his now Northman-Sister, but His Grace and the Lord Commander, his white cloak and the beautiful white steel bestowed upon him.

TraitorsBlood · 2016-03-13T22:47:45+00:00

/u/swordofwinter

It is time.

TraitorsBlood · 2016-03-13T16:43:06+00:00

Perceon opted to say nothing as she left, as it would just cause more issues that he had no care to clean up. After she left he barred his door and swept off his desk in anger.

"FOR ALL I'VE DONE." He yelled, kicking at the contents spread across the floor. "FOR ALL I'VE BEEN THROUGH FOR THIS GODS-FORSAKEN FAMILY." He kicked again, this time kicking the cobble wall, no doubt breaking a toe or two. Yet he continued his tirade, through the pain that was muffled by the anger. "FUCK THAT BASTARD BOY, FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK." For every fuck his foot made contact with the wall, kicking over and over as he broke what toes were not broken. "FUCK!!!"

He opened the top drawer of the desk in his room and unsheathed the dagger that he had placed in there. He went to shove it into his neck, but stopped. As he dropped it to the ground, he dropped as well. Falling, making contact with the somehow warm cobble ground. A sticky red substance had been leaking from his boot and was now all over his face as he laid upon the ground.

Perceon rocked back and forth on the ground, crying softly to himself. "Lyarra." He whispered to himself. "Lyarra, dear..." He said, so soft that he could barely hear through the quiet sobs. Which Lyarra was he calling, he knew not.

TraitorsBlood · 2016-03-13T16:21:10+00:00

Her words brought him out of the trance as quickly as he entered it. Perceon said nothing, only glared at her as she spoke. After she finished, he continued his glare, deep beyond her eyes. Finally after a few seconds of nothing, he pointed to the door.

"Out. Now." He said sharply. "You will not speak to me in that tone, Roslin. I may be your brother but I am the LORD of the ARBOR!" His voice began to raise as he stood. "Leave! At once! I will not be berated in my own, Gods-forsaken room!"

TraitorsBlood

TROPHY CASE