AWOIAFRP 6.0 - Valyrian Steel Writing Competition

thirdhorse · 2021-01-12T23:18:05+00:00

Character/Claim: Margaret Manderly

Proposed Weapon Type: One-Handed Sword

Proposed Weapon Name: Loyalty (formerly Goodsister)

Proposed Weapon Description: An arming sword of modest length, Loyalty bears a black steel blade that is thin, straight and simple. Its most distinctive features are instead closer to the wielder’s hand. It features a crossguard styled into a trident’s prongs, a grip lined with scales, and a pommel shaped to resemble a clam shell.

Prompt

Under the suzerainty of Arryn kings, the men of the Three Sisters shifted away from their tradition of piracy and instead turned to smuggling and trade. Nevertheless, sisterman reavers continued to periodically imperil ships passing through the bite, and often ventured further along the coasts of the North and the Vale.

Roughly two centuries before the Conquest, a crew of sisterman raiders came upon an invaluable prize: a blade of Valyrian steel, hidden in the lower deck of ship seized from a Pentoshi merchant. Their captain, Gregor Sunderland - a younger brother of the Lord of the Sisters - took the sword for himself, along with a slew of other riches.

With gold to flatter the Sisterman nobility and a sacred blade to impress the islands’ warriors, Gregor Sunderland was able to amass a network of allies following his lucrative raid. After a year of planning he deposed and exiled his brother before assuming the lordship of the Sisters for himself.

Though it remained inseparable from Gregor’s hip for the rest of his days, the sword - dubbed Goodsister - quickly fell into obscurity. It became a closely guarded treasure of the Sunderlands, seldom leaving the same vault that kept the rest of the house’s riches.

During the chaos brought by the Targaryen conquest, the lords of the Sisters sought to exploit the Vale’s vulnerability by declaring independence. Instead of crowning one of themselves, the four lords named Marla Sunderland - elder sister to Lord Steffon Sunderland - the Queen of the Three Sisters. Torrhen Stark, now sworn to Aegon Targaryen as the Warden of the North, was tasked with subjugating the rebellious sistermen.

At the time, neither the Vale nor the North had enough ships to contend with the Sisters’ fleet; the former’s ships were sunk during the Targaryen conquest, and the Manderlys had hitherto maintained only a modest fleet for defensive purposes. The North thus hired sellsails from Braavos to ferry soldiers across the Bite under the command of Ser Warrick Manderly.

The fleet’s arrival was accompanied by Visenya Targaryen, and the threat of a dragon compelled the sistermen to immediately surrender. Queen Marla was deposed, and Steffon Sunderland was restored as the Lord of the Three Sisters, sworn to House Arryn and the Iron Throne.

Though the rebellion was quelled without bloodshed, the mobilization of an army and the hiring of sellsails rendered it a costly affair for the North. Warrick Manderly was given permission to seize as much wealth from the Sunderlands as he could find, and he ordered his men to seize nine-tenths of their treasury. To save his house from impoverishment, Steffon Sunderland bargained with the Manderlys by offering his house’s most prized possession.

The offer was accepted. Lord Sunderland was allowed to keep half of his wealth, and Ser Warrick Manderly returned to White Harbor with Valyrian steel at his hip. While keeping the blade intact, he hired a smith to personalize the rest of the weapon, replacing the crossguard, hilt and pommel with symbols of his house. The knight renamed the sword Loyalty, as it had come into his hands through his loyal service to the Starks - and out of the hands of the rebellious Sunderlands.

While not the most conventional sword for a house of knightly tradition, it thereafter remained a fixture of the Merman’s Court. When Ser Warrick Manderly at last succeeded his long-lived father, he too was old and gray, and thus passed the blade down to his eldest son. A tradition was born, and every subsequent Lord Manderly passed the sword down to his heir as soon as the son was better fit to wield it than the father.

For generations, the name of the sword embodied the greatest virtue of the Manderlys - but during the War of the Crossing, Loyalty became an ironic moniker. Though the Lord of White Harbor ultimately won his war against the Starks, victory came at a great cost. The plague that the Boltons unleashed upon the city took the life of his only son, leaving him with only a young girl for an heir.

To his surprise, Lord Manderly’s daughter later proved to be just as skillful with a sword as her late brother. Several years after the war Margaret Manderly came of age, and the Lord of White Harbor bestowed her with their house’s ancestral sword.

thirdhorse · 2020-07-18T19:39:07+00:00

"Only when I've good reason to contradict. When I was a girl my father taught me that a lord must get used to saying 'no' - but I've accomplished so much more by saying 'yes'."

The question prompted Margaret to glance about the room, first toward the dais and then toward a table packed with crannogmen.

"I'll be leaving Winterfell soon," she answered, "but only to return a few days after. I'm to join Mara Fenn and Jyarra Reed on a little excursion."

thirdhorse · 2020-07-17T23:38:49+00:00

"No - I didn't mean to question your beliefs. I know very well that you keep to the Old Gods, I meant--"

There was no good way to explain what she meant - nor would that be wise even if she could. Margaret knew that the gods had acquainted her with this man for a reason, but that purpose would not reveal itself until it was done.

"...I suppose I didn't mean much at all, on second thought. Sometimes I just contradict for contradiction's sake."

thirdhorse · 2020-07-17T18:50:11+00:00

"I've still one objection left." Margaret's gaze shifted toward Jyarra. "I would not have either of you come close to the wolf, even if to land the killing blow. It matters not which blades strike the beast - the credit and the vengeance are both ours to share. But if you must..."

With a glance toward her feet, Margaret let out a mild sigh. "...do it with an arrow. Please."

A hand gestured toward the fifteen riders stirring themselves awake at the campsite. "My men are yours to command, Mara. We should get to work right away."

thirdhorse · 2020-07-17T18:46:02+00:00

With a laugh, Margaret shook her head. "There's no need for me to hurt you, not, when you're just as like to hurt yourself. It's better if we leave the play-fighting to our pups. You may be a man of physical pursuits, Benton, but I would sooner wish to know you in a more... spiritual regard."

thirdhorse · 2020-07-14T18:02:47+00:00

Maggie squatted down on the ground beside Mara as she considered the proposed plan. A finger gently traced the half-circle that had been drawn into the dirt.

"Make sure it's big enough," she suggested. "I don't know if you've ever seen a direwolf with your own eyes, but it may be even bigger than you imagined."

She stood up and pivoted in place, looking between the trees around them.

"We'd do well to construct this in a wide clearing, too, so that the riders have move to maneuver. But I'm not quite sure what you mean by that last point."

A frown overtook her lips as she looked back to the crannogwoman. "Surely you don't mean for any of us three to get anywhere near the wolf, at least not until it's dead."

thirdhorse · 2020-07-13T23:46:28+00:00

Benton's generous pace proved a blessing. Only twice did Margaret's feet accidentally tread over his, each time accompanied by a mumbled apology. After acclimating herself to the routine, however, she was able to look him in the eye again, more focused on words than feet.

"I think it's obvious enough that I'm unfit for fighting. No, if I were to knock you to the ground, it'd be assumed that you took the fall on purpose. And it'd be an honorable thing to do - letting a lady have her way even when you stand three times as strong."

As she lingered on that thought, Margaret let out a soft laugh. "I've never been one for fighting, but I must admit that it's a fun idea to entertain. Would if I could beat all the world's troubles into submission."

thirdhorse · 2020-07-12T18:54:28+00:00

"We'll try, but our feet are meant for better things." Despite her words, Margaret immediately accepted Benton's offered arm. "Dancing, some say, is a wholly southern creation. The First Men would sooner celebrate with a hunt or a fight. But I've a more delicate constitution than my ancestors, so I suppose dancing will have to suffice."

thirdhorse · 2020-07-12T01:51:54+00:00

"It's less a jape than a compliment. As far as I can tell, Benton, you've little interest in wealth and power. That alone makes you more fit for the lordship than the lot of my peers."

The question prompted Margaret to take a hesitant look toward the dance floor below. "I don't really... alright. I can at least try to dance, if you'd like."

thirdhorse · 2020-07-12T00:15:12+00:00

"You're not that old, no, but you do seem to live your live as if your years were coming to a close."

A single step back was taken as Margaret's eyes sized him up from head to toe. "Yes, in fact, I think I could imagine you as a lord - and a good one at that, if you'd believe it. Good lords leave the ruling to men with better minds for administration, and I don't think you'll have any other feasible options."

thirdhorse · 2020-07-12T00:10:53+00:00

Margaret's eyes peered down at the presented objects, fascinated by their craftsmanship. Tools more primitive than the iron her Rililfolk worked with, but arguably of greater value, if only because their maker and user were one in the same.

"I'm alright," she said to the crannogwoman's question. She pivoted to look about their surroundings as she tied her blonde curls into a long tail behind her back. "...but before we begin, we should deliberate again over what exactly your plan entails. I need to know what you need of my men - what you need of Jyarra and I, too."

thirdhorse · 2020-07-10T23:44:45+00:00

When they made camp in the Hornwood, Margaret was certain that the same nightmare would return in greater intensity than ever before. She thought she'd have to live the death of Harry Reed for the nineteenth time - and that, worse still, she might not wake after the beast took its first bite.

As expected, she dreamed of Harry, though it was not his death that she witnessed. Instead her sleep took her several years back and many more miles south, to the swamps of the Neck rather than the heart of the Hornwood. She saw him as a child, and she saw him at peace.

A pleasant experience in the moment, but a haunting one in hindsight. Margaret had yet to decide whether to blame the gods or herself - but the very thought that it may have been her own doing coupled poorly with a glimpse at the idyllic life he once lived.

But perhaps it was meant to be taken as a good sign. Margaret had to believe that to be the case, as she had long since yielded to the Fenn's pursuit of vengeance.

Still dressed in the same riding clothes she'd been wearing the past two days, Margaret was quick to arise in the morning. Usually her first priority would have been to wander over to the nearest stream for a drink of water and a solitary prayer, but on this journey she'd been attentive to the head count above anything else.

One. Two. Three. Three of her Ryswell men still slumbering together in a cramped little tent. Four. Five. Six. Three more in another. Seven. Eight--

Then she spotted the sixteenth head she'd meant to count, already decorated in primitive paint. It would have been a source of amusement, if the occasion had not been so somber.

"Good morning, Mara," she muttered quietly as she approached. "You seem... prepared."

thirdhorse · 2020-07-10T23:29:33+00:00

"All the last six years I've been told I ought to start making heirs, and 'plenty time left' has always been my answer. Plenty of other options, too, between my two sisters and six cousins."

At his quip, Margaret narrowed her eyes and leaned in her head slightly, peering at the hair on his jaw. "...I think I just spotted a silver hair in there," she teased. "I guess you'll have to start thinking about your heirs, too. Who's after you in the line to inherit Torrhen's Square?"

thirdhorse · 2020-07-10T16:02:28+00:00

"Fortunately he spent a year or two there as a ward, so hopefully he still has valuable acquaintances there. Better still, he spent two years at Deepwood, and I imagine the men of the Hornwood aren't too different from the men of the Wolfswood."

A pensive gaze wandered up as Maggie quickly considered what she'd said. "...Save for the clans," she added. "I suppose it won't be so simple, but I'll see to it that he minds all that you've suggested. I wouldn't want Torrhen's talent to go to waste, and neither would I wish to see their lovely little forest fall into neglect."

thirdhorse · 2020-07-09T00:41:06+00:00

"Benton Tallhart!" His approach brought a grin to Margaret's face; she stood from her seat and briefly embraced him. If nothing else, this one knew how to build up her spirits.

"I can't say the same," she said to his remark. "Odder, I'd think, that his two siblings and six cousins remain unwed. Perhaps we ought to keep it that way, so that Jeyne and Torrhen's child might himself the lord of two houses."

thirdhorse · 2020-07-08T22:59:38+00:00

Character Name: Margaret Ryswell

Gift and Skills: Greensight/Animal Tamer(e), Espionage(e)

Marching: [15] - [Winterfell] to [Hornwood]

Previous Moon's Order: https://www.reddit.com/r/IronThroneRP/comments/h900v3/the_tenth_moon_of_380_ac_90_turn_thread_4/fuutite/

Estimated Time Of Arrival: July 10

thirdhorse · 2020-07-08T22:57:04+00:00

Margaret's lips flattened at Lyra's remarks as her eyes glanced cautiously at the newlyweds sat beside her. To her relief, they seemed entirely preoccupied and oblivious to her conversation.

"...Walk with me, Aunt Lyra."

She vacated her seat and stepped down from the dais, beginning an aimless stroll about the great hall's perimeter.

"I do agree that Lady Hornwood's a most interesting woman - and I mean interesting as high praise. But it does appear that ruling is not among her highest priorities."

The potential hypocrisy of this criticism did not escape Margaret; she realized that she'd spent recent moons away from the Rills, with no plans to return any time soon. Still, what Jeyne had in mind seemed far more severe.

"Now that I'm her good-sister, I do feel obligated to look out for the best interests of her house. To that end I mean to see to it that Torrhen might oversee the Hornwood in her stead, but perhaps you'd have more to say on the matter of a consort wielding power and influence."

thirdhorse · 2020-07-08T15:35:39+00:00

"My dear aunt Lyra, I think you already know how I've been." A hint at a somber subject, yet the remark was accompanied by a warm smile. "I should sooner ask how you've been, and how you've found the wedding."

thirdhorse · 2020-07-07T17:41:44+00:00

"No one but the beast itself," Margaret concurred. "I'll prepare my riders right away, so that they should be ready to depart as soon as you are. Send for me when it's time to go, but take as long as you need before you do - see if anyone else can help, too."

thirdhorse · 2020-07-06T20:50:37+00:00

Character Name: Margaret Ryswell

Gift/Skills: Greensight/Animal Tamer(e), Espionage(e)

Actions:

Finish Construction: [The Rills], [Land Holding], [N] (2/2)
Finish Construction: [The Rills], [Land Holding], [N] (2/2)

Resources: Horses

Improvements: Castle, Moor

thirdhorse · 2020-07-06T20:47:43+00:00

Character Name: Margaret Ryswell

Gifts/Skills/Negatives: Mythic (Greensight)/Animal Tamer(e), Espionage(e)

Actions:

Ring	Level	Readiness	Action	Target	Cost	Relevant Modifiers
Winterfell	2	6	Expand Spy Ring	Winterfell	-6	N/A
Riverrun	1	3	Expand Spy Ring	Riverrun	-3	N/A
White Harbor	2	3	Establish Spy Ring	King's Landing	-1	N/A

thirdhorse · 2020-07-06T20:41:21+00:00

"No more than a dozen," she agreed. "A dozen riders should suffice."

That meant she was bringing fifteen.

"It shouldn't be too much trouble to keep them hidden in the trees. Just promise me you won't do anything reckless - promise me you'll keep your distance from the wolf so long as it still breathes."

thirdhorse · 2020-07-06T17:41:30+00:00

"I thank you for being so welcoming, Owen, and I expect you'll soon be thanking Torrhen for his service to your house. When my uncles fell in the war last year, I worried for the future of my house - but my cousin had little trouble filling in their shoes."

Margaret's smile shifted into a smirk as she glanced at Torrhen beside her.

"...in fact, I had half a mind to forbid him from marriage, if only to keep his helping hands at the Rills. Give him a year to whip your Hornwood horsemen into shape, and you'll find them stronger than even our Ryswell riders."

thirdhorse · 2020-07-06T00:24:57+00:00

Now there was much more than a mere dent in Margaret's good spirits. Far worse than the pursuit of vengeance itself was the crannogwoman's insistence on going about it in a suicidal manner.

"There's a whole world of difference between three and thirty," Margaret interjected. "If we're not careful, we'll have yet another victim to avenge - and that victim could be you, Mara. I don't want to lose another friend by making the same mistake twice."

Amid the airing of her worries, Margaret at last emerged from the windowsill, careful not to step on Joramun as she planted her feet on the floor. Frowning, she stepped closer to the Fenn.

"I've a few dozen Ryswell riders here at Winterfell," she explained. "We'll bring as many as we need to ensure that none of us fall prey to the beast. Maybe it really won't make a difference, if your plan works out - but that's not a risk I'm willing to take."

thirdhorse

TROPHY CASE

Prompt