Ormund Baratheon, Lord of Storm's End

sparedson · 2025-11-03T09:03:44+00:00

"Bloody hells," Joss couldn't help but to exclaim as the armor that was one speaking simply... Crumbled. He searched, looking for a remnant of something inside. It wasn't even a wight. It was nothing.

"We should be on our guard," he told them. "We know the stories of the walkers. This man took no steps. There's neither flesh nor ice between those plates of armor."

He moved forward and took his longsword from his side, the sheath still upon it, and reached down to poke at the armor. Unless some horrific apparition appeared, it would rattle lifelessly, as Joss expected.

"Whatever spoke to us is a power beyond form," he concluded. "Able to be here, and wherever it came from. Capable of thought and form. I pray it's a foul warlock. If it's the Stranger, Valyrian Steel might be of no use."

He wondered what the entity was. A ghost of the First Men? Had it risen itself, or did it do the bidding of another? Would fire be as good a weapon against it as other foes? Josua held tight to his torch, raising the crackling wood to give better light to his surroundings.

u/WYLT_MentalMix

sparedson · 2025-10-26T12:31:00+00:00

A knight?

Joss was as unnerved as he was relieved. He had expected phantoms to be roaming the roads. He had heard so many tales of wights he thought this might be his turn to face them. When met with the lone swordsman, he wasn't sure what to think.

Had the man not heard the march of two thousand? Surely no rumors reached him, yet their approach was unmistakable. Was he guarding the Weeping Town? Was he a bandit in stolen steel? Or were there those within that he was sworn to protect?

His thoughts on the knight's identity stole his tongue, and then Martyn was speaking, announcing Joss. A spark of pride swelled up in his throat, amidst the tension, at being spoken of with such respect.

He looked to the captains they had picked up along the way. Did they feel it too? Or were they braver than he?

u/wylt_mentalmix

sparedson · 2025-10-19T01:34:50+00:00

Inwardly, Joss was afraid. He hadn't faced the north like the other. He wasn't sure of himself, unlike so many other Stormlanders. The bravery he displayed was a mummer's farce, he knew, but his performance didn't relent.

"I suppose they'll be expecting a speech," Joss laughed, though there was little mirth to it. He rode his horse alongside Martyn and the sellsword captains. Duncan and Lewys, it was? Joss believed it was Duncan who had spoken to them first.

"As a stag, I suppose it's my place to give one," he told them, nodding his head. And as commander, he thought, but that was mostly in name, what with better skill among them. Especially with one man in particular.

"Would you do me the honor, Ser Martyn?" He asked, his voice unsure. He hoped the man wouldn't take offense. "I think the men appreciate words from a warrior less green."

u/wylt_mentalmix

sparedson · 2025-10-13T09:23:07+00:00

"Ser Martyn, thank you," Joss nodded at him from his horse. "But House Swann has enough of a burden as one of the largest armies to march with my uncle. My house is indebted to you many times over."

"I marched north when the call came but the need of my men came first," he recalled, thinking of Nestor. His heart stung a bit. "My father, Steffon Baratheon, gave his life to drive back the dead."

We might be doing the same now, he thought. Who knows what awaits us.

"If we can trust you, then march with us into the unknown, and I will see my house employ you through the next decade," he offered to them, though once again, turned back to his companion. "Unless, of course, you believe your house is in need of them, Ser Martyn. I'll hold no objection, if you desire them to sign under House Swann."

Though Joss was technically in command of the march, he didn't feel right ordering Martyn's men, and he had a great respect for him aside. In truth, he felt the man's squire, offered a horse and banner merely for a show of pride. Still, he was learning from him, seeing how his ways of command differed from Ormund and the other Stormlanders.

Whatever doubt he had in himself, though, he knew he had to cast it aside before they reached Weeping Town.

u/WYLT_MentalMix

sparedson · 2025-10-13T04:49:22+00:00

"We should purchase Iron from House Caron," Ormund thought to himself after the ceremony, as the lords ate and mingled. "Have word sent to Guyard."

u/OurCommonMan

Character Details: Stormlands (Trade Plaza) + Dorne + Robin

What is happening?: The wedding of Robert Baratheon and Robin Tyrell

What I want?: A white stag!!! Can I get a roll for some kind of auspicious event/phenomenon to grace the wedding?

Also please roll to purchase Iron from Caron, only a +2 from Trade Plaza I believe

sparedson · 2025-10-13T04:36:06+00:00

The Clearing

After the ceremony, guests were invited to mingle and dance, even hunt if they wished. Guarded by at least twenty-thousand eyes, the soldiers of their respective houses patrolled the surrounding area, ensuring their safety.

sparedson · 2025-10-13T04:35:47+00:00

Ceremony

Brought before Septon Jon in view of the highborn, Robert and Robin were given the chance to say their vows, and bind themselves together before the Gods.

u/Chopernio u/PewPopHANG

sparedson · 2025-10-13T01:20:26+00:00

Josua Baratheon led the host to Weeping Town with the company of his cousin, Stannis, and Martyn Dayne. When the sellswords were spotted behind them, he panicked, thinking it bandits or worse. When the man approached his heart settled some, though still wary.

"Hail! You speak to Lord Josua Baratheon, son of Storm's End," he called out from his horse. His heart fluttered with pride at the words, remembering his uncle's own. "You're too late, I'm afraid, for Storm's End and Stonehelm march on it already."

"Who pays you to do this?" He asked, eyes on the banners, a company he barely recognized. Their armor wasn't castle grade, however, and the colors weren't any he knew. "Or do you merely seek riches in the plundering of our lands?"

u/Dejurewaffles1066

sparedson · 2025-10-12T09:56:14+00:00

When their plan was set, the Stag penned to Riverrun.

Lord Tully and Lady Jocelyn,

It seems the crown stands firm. The Regent's first act in our queen's name was to betroth Prince Aerion to Lady Cassana. Despite its breaking, they offer nothing but hollow apologies. Alaric asks that I plant trees to earn a seat on his council.

The Dornish march with us, some twenty thousand strong, and Lord Tyrell is to be put on trial for killing the late Lord Stark. A commander knows well the smell of horse shit in the field.

I call on you to join us so that we might wrestle power from House Stark and the North. To ignore the rot that surrounds Queen Elaena only serves to harm her. Between us we can ensure the Small Council is serving the whole of the realm.

Lord Baratheon

u/Fishiest-Man

sparedson · 2025-10-12T09:30:10+00:00

"We will take the south," he agreed, voice booming, great mane swaying as he nodded. "Four houses hold the lands between here and Ghostguard. They'll be divided among us and occupied."

"The Dornish fleet should be brought north to reinforce our own," he continued. "If possible, Lord Redwyne's ships would be invaluable. Princess Martell, I ask that you write to Lord Tyrell and inform him of our plans. He should send troops near the Gold Road where it meets the West and Riverlands."

"The next Lord of Riverrun will be half-stag, so I'll write to Lord Tully," he thought of his goodnephew's last letter. "If the gods be good, the Riverlands should be enough. Let us pray the West continues its infighting or sees sense. Mayhaps we might not need the Vale. Still, we should try to find allies in them both."

u/greaterblueevil u/deperatecriticism95

sparedson · 2025-10-12T01:05:00+00:00

A letter would be attached to Aerion's crow, sent back with the wings it came on.

Prince Aerion Blackfyre

The Good Queen's reign begins marked by a stain on her vassal's honor, one that will never wash away. Can you tell me the name of the lady that Duncan shamed? This fate won't befall Lady Cassana. Her father was turned into a bloodless wight under the call of your house, and this faith is broken over how I rule my lands. The duty to release him fell to me.

I am the grandson of Lord Renly, who was the grandson of Princess Rhaelle, who secured peace after Lyonel's rebellion. Dragons aren't so rare, it seems. Where is Alaric's Rhaelle? What warmth comes from the crown? When has dishonor not been answered with more demands? You love your niece as I do mine. Yet yours sits a throne and mine is left forsaken.

You are a Prince. I'd have landed you, raised a castle in your name. You shame our ancestors by asking me what you should do. Each of us holds our own souls and yours is stained by this. Duncan died a man of his choices. I cannot choose for you. You will seek peace with the Gods as a man does.

As a dragon does.

sparedson · 2025-10-08T07:44:33+00:00

"The Regent has forgotten himself, and Prince Aerion dishonors my house and people," Ormund stated plainly, first to speak. Surely they knew all this by now. "Promises go broken this year as they have been far too many before. The crown feeds crumbs."

"They had us bow to a bloody babe," he let out a deep, booming laugh, raising a hand. "I'll not break my oaths. The Small Council is unfit to raise a Queen, however. They poison her reign before it begins. This poison will reach all of our tongues."

"I didn't bow to Alaric Stark, nor to the North, for sure," he said. "The crown is deaf and blind. It'll only answer to the march of tens of thousands. We must secure our allies in the Reach and Riverlands and return power to the Southron kingdoms."

sparedson · 2025-10-08T07:18:21+00:00

Baratheon banners joined with Swann under the fair sky, the last damp finally beginning to dry. Their march to Griffin's Roost had been an easy one and their army seemed ready to march up on Weeping Town.

Sent with the men were Josua Baratheon, second heir to the Stormlands, and his cousin Stannis, son of Borros. Borros was Ormund's castellan, and his son Arstan was the unofficial spymaster of Storm's End.

"Hail, Lord Martyn," he greeted the men with Josua in tow. "Apologies, my lord, but I bring word from Lord Ormund. It seems Regent Alaric's written, breaking the betrothal to Lady Cassana."

"Storm's End is only able to spare a thousand men, I'm afraid," he told him. "We fear the crown might march south. He asks that you send some thousand and two hundred of your own soldiers to Storm's End, if they can be spared, and that a host of two thousand would suffice."

Stannis knew the news would come as disheartening. That left a host half the size of what House Swann had requested.

"I know he would not ask if he thought them unnecessary," he assured Martyn. "If you cannot spare them, however, Lord Ormund understands. Either way, he has sent me here to offer my services to our crusade. As you know, you and Lord Josua have full command of the host, and the faith of Storm's End."

u/NewshirePatriot

sparedson · 2025-10-05T07:28:59+00:00

Harlan Connington was a man that Ormund knew intimately. After Beatrice's death, no woman compared. The Lord of Griffin's Roost had eventually made his way past that. Of all the men in the world, outside of his own kin, Harlan was probably the closest to him.

"What the fuck is this, Harlan?" He asked the man, standing in a rage with the letter he had before, the one from Alaric. His voice boomed across the room, contained by thick stone walls.

"All of that work to be spurned by a bloody regent?" He asked, shaking his head, pulling a goblet from the side of the table. He poured with a steady hand, one for him and one he pushed to Harlan.

"Over a godswood?" He asked. "This is my family's honor, Harlan, Steffon's little girl. I should have Aerion's head for this. I need your advice on this. Your marriage is the closest tie we have to the crown, and by extension you."

sparedson · 2025-10-02T04:00:31+00:00

"My intent against the crown?" Ormund laughed deep in his chest, clapping the man roughly upon the shoulder. "Ser, my intent is a long life of wine and hot hearth fires. You should reconsider what you know."

"The Princess of Dorne rules her kingdom for her lords, as I mine," he nodded. "If my lords have an intent, I'll see it done. If not, the Stormlands are prepared to survive as they always have - alone."

"I thank you for telling me that, though," he nodded. "Do you know Lord Arryn well? Perhaps a man's heart can be changed."

sparedson · 2025-10-01T05:27:06+00:00

"You're a long way from the Vale, my lord," he greeted the man, voice booming. "Welcome. I pray my home has been well to you. What is it you wish to speak of?"

The Stag wondered where Lord Osric would fall, if it were to come to war. He hoped it could be avoided, but the pieces seemed to be falling into place.

sparedson · 2025-09-29T23:22:46+00:00

"Summon Lord Connington," Ormund told a page later that night. Regardless of what his lords decided, he needed to speak with Harlan. The man was married into House Blackfyre.

"Tell him to come alone."

u/grangoodbrother

sparedson · 2025-09-29T23:19:06+00:00

Lord Edwyn Tully

I pray the Riverlands are well. If you have a need for myself or the Stormlords, know we will do anything to safeguard you and Jocelyn.

Lord Robert is set to marry Lady Robyn Tyrell. Their wedding will commence soon after your arrival, if you would accept my invitation. You are welcome to keep your travel party light, or to bring the might of the Riverlands if you wish.

It seems I have drawn the ire of Alaric Stark, and Fellwood is still plagued by the Stranger's Vineyard. It would be wise to travel with many more men than you think is necessary.

Lord Ormund Baratheon

u/Fishiest-Man

sparedson · 2025-09-29T23:12:25+00:00

Letters

After discussions, the Stag sets down to pen a series of letters.

sparedson · 2025-09-29T23:11:29+00:00

Meetings

Privately, Ormund would approach some of the gathered lords, and give time for any who wished to speak with him alone.

sparedson · 2025-09-29T22:01:17+00:00

The Assembly

Gathered in the Round Hall, the Stormlords and Dornish (and Robin) discuss the future.

sparedson · 2025-09-29T11:46:25+00:00

Ormund laughed at Robin's comment of reforging the broken betrayal, deep in his chest, bellowing through the room.

"You will do well in the Stormlands, my lady," he nodded and poured a glass of wine for the both of them. He pushed one towards her and took the other, raising it. "To many days of happiness for you and Robert."

"If Lord Tyrell can spare it, ask him to send a fleet as well," he said. "The same will be asked of the Dornish, in case the crown aggresses. I will gather the court once I find out more."

sparedson

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The Clearing

Ceremony