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9 yrs ago
If there are RPs/PM's I need to reply to- I am working on it, I'm a little overladen in life atm. I haven't forgotten about you :)
9 yrs ago
Aaand back.
10 yrs ago
ALERT- I'm going AFK for a week, anyone that sees this on here, I won't be about to respond, this is to both 1x1s/RPs.

Bio

I've RP'd for the best part of over 14 years now here on the Guild, and particularly like military settings, both contemporary, past and near future. I have even dabbled in a little more experimental RPs, as well as created a plethora of 1x1s over my time in the guild. I like creating RPs with a distinct flavour- and often shift between narrative-led RPs to semi-randomised plots.

I'm pretty flexible and try and get back to people on ideas and responses, but sometimes, I may become very busy and it will take some time till I am un-busy- though I always come back!

Most Recent Posts

@MrDidact

Just posted, including a nice little KL bit. It's an interesting segment, as it shows another kind of reality with Alerie- she isn't entirely evil but she is brooding as fuck and knows the way the game works, she's already in full Olenna Tyrell mode here. I imagine that she goes from being this really cute, beautiful looking girl in her green/gold dress to being the equivalent of the most red thing in Westeros that isn't a Red Priestess in her red one, that change is actually a little incognito need for what might come next (and no, she's not off to go deal in fire and shit).

I think a flash forward would be quite cool. Setting it about six months after, with a few casualties and the impact of the aftermath that comes from the small wars would be good- my hat is in for a War of Ninepenny Kings scenario as it would perhaps be worth looking at a mixture of factions who want to dethrone the Targaryens, or a potential civil war after Jon/Dany pass away. Even one about a month after, so we can take a whole new bunch of people on board, closing in every conflict that happened back to a reset would be cool- allowing any narrative strands to carry on beyond. I still think it would be nice to carry it on- just perhaps with a little more speed to close down certain parts of the story.

I like the PvE element so I still think that a big war could still be contained (say, just one Red Mountains rather than lots), just in one place rather than all at once in lots of different strands. As cool as it is, I found myself hinging on collabs and having a lot to write across a massive Geographical range, which is doable for a while but I feel like it would have been nice to see the returns on some plans I'd laid out very early in the RP to start playing out, which due to the distances and long-term campaigns and focus on war, wasn't as possible. I'd like to write my way into a flash forward though- so say, setting up Alerie with the future of her cunning plans and her marriage/wedding to Tom, and perhaps more for Ellion's incredible sex life endgame in what his future may be, with a few hinted at before.

Personally, I'd really like to explore the intrigue of what a Lannister-Tyrell alliance looks like again, and I'm glad that magic may be reined in. It felt a bit too...common? It felt more like a different world compared to the grit and realism of the Medieval horrors of war- badassery felt good enough in the hands of swords rather than something confusing. I think if it exists, definitely that is awesome, but it needs to be more mystical rather than accessible broadly to more people, something properly frightening, even in friendly hands. It became a bit convoluted at times and while I might not be good at understanding that, it was the one bit I sometimes feel a little confused on.
King's Landing

The evening light shone through the window, the night on it's way in the capital, and soon on the horizon. The cup raised a little, the brass and steel in her hand tight, as she walked to the high window. It revealed Alerie, sitting in a very different dress to her usual green and gold. The dress was an almost wine and cherry red in colour, a rather fetching dress given that it was totally different to what she would usually wear. It wasn't just that some were being dried or washed, of course, but sometimes a little change was needed. It was relatively revealing, lightly tied about her upper back and not around shoulders, her red hair allowed to flow long in their curls down to the dress. This wasn't a dress she would wear to any formal or informal meeting with family or her new friends, it felt a little liberating and well...she wasn't exactly doing much of the former this evening.

Alerie had been waiting on Amber once again, as the girl came back, knocking on her door.
"Come in." Alerie turned, sitting in

"I did you asked." Amber said, as Alerie looked on. Good.
"And?"
"They agreed to it. Sounds like if it came from Lady Alerie Tyrell, it must be important, he said." Amber had used her name, and Alerie wasn't suprised. She was silly enough to do that, but given they had no idea exactly where the ship was going, that was no need.
"Good. Then that means a few friends of mine may have their help then. You did well Amber. Redeemed yourself. Now it is only fair that I as another Lady of the Reach, find you a suitor. I've got a few that I think I should send some letters to. A few even in this capital."
"I think I already have one. I mean...I don't know if....."

Alerie leaned in, chirping with a smirk.
"Oh?"
"It's Aerion. I can't...I can't get him out of my mind." She replied, as Alerie leant back, sighing, her mind whiring and whizzing the reality away. She knew it was that way. Of course she did, she always did. But now....now it made sense.

"I knew it'd be that way. See, I think you are afraid. You didn't do this because you thought I would give you the benefit of my connections, no you were better than that. It was so I could give you an illusion to your family and maybe just to you. It's because you're lying to yourself, Amber. Allow me to remind you how this works. Your father sees you as a fourthborn, and only a marriage pawn. Trust me, Alys is the same in our family. Just a very big one in this game of Chess, not between little mercenatile groups, but at the highest stakes and at the end of the day, that is how our society works. If you think I'm a horrible Lady to serve, I'm not. I will tell you how it is because whilst it may hurt, it will be real, and I have seen it all before. Your father wants you married, and put you into my service because he saw that as his best way to get what he wanted, given he didn't see how else from an island in the Sunset Sea he would do it, perhaps you'd find a Lannister or a Baratheon and find a marriage yourself and then he would be very pleased. You're the daughter of a vassal Lord, so it worked out for both of us, it seems. And because you can't tell me straight, you still don't know if you can cut out Lord Redwyne." Alerie was thorny, yet didn't speak a lie. This was real, and as horrid as it was, Alerie had realised the strands of Amber Redywne were coming undone, like a ball of string thrown down a bannister.

"But....I don't know. Surely we can come to some arrangement?"

"You want to be a runaway again. There isn't an arrangement in that. Stroll into the night sky with Aerion, the blood of a dragon. Perhaps he wants you to leave me, in fact, I bet he has. Promises the world, promises everything for you, and that I will only keep you caged. Word of advice, it's exiting at first, then you see past it, and then get killed. He could die in the next couple of weeks in that campaign after all... he isn't a Lord, he's a mercenary for hire and the people he deals with...are not pleasant. At the end of the day, there's no money in that, and they go only where the money is, that and ties to real power. You'd be exposed to that, my sweet. But you know that when you do, you're going to have to abandon your family. So here's what I'll do. I will let you decide."

"And what if I want that?"

"Well, you wouldn't be in my service anymore. And when Lord Redwyne comes to the dinner table, I'm afraid I'll have to tell him you were a lovely girl before you ran away. He wouldn't be very happy, see that would be a bit of a dent in everyone's honour, mine, your family's, your friends. Most of all, yours too, at least men can duel for that privilege, Ladies don't have the option. You understand now that actions have consequences, and you nearly dying....well, that is what happens. I will not be able to shelter you or protect you from that big bad world, only Aerion will and if he leads the life he does, you won't have much of your luxury. If you want to leave, then you are free to leave. I'm not keeping you here against your will. But I suggest you go and speak with your father, before he leaves King's Landing. That should help clear your mind." Alerie said, as she stood, her red dress blooming, not tight and sleek but more of a gown really around her petite frame, as she looked out of the window, into the night sky.

"You did a good job, either way. Thank you. You are dismissed for now, Amber Redwyne. I won't need any of your service this evening." Alerie said, as she sighed, watching as her handmaiden looked over, nodding, yet holding back tears that wanted to just flow.
"I will, my Lady. Thank you." She could barely contain her tears, as she headed out of the room, standing as Alerie looked on, sighing. It was never fun to do that, but it had to be done. No doubt Lord Redwyne would have some more interesting words to say when she told him she was looking at a mercenary Captain for a husband with no land, loyalty or ties. At this point, Alerie didn't care, because she had gotten her need and now, Amber would be soon moving on to something that wasn't her service.

A few minutes of looking down at the harbour had passed, the door left open as Megga walked in. On time, Alerie mused, as Alerie turned from the window, brooding.
"My Lady? What's going on with Amber?" She asked, knowing she'd seen what she saw as she had walked past the other handmaiden, Megga a little confused and unaware of the situation.
"She's fine. She perhaps doesn't know what she wants right now, so I had to have a word with her. She isn't thinking straight and I know she's probably still a little traumatised after...well, you heard what happened. Poor girl. Hardly deserves what she got, but it is a reminder to us all, the outside is dangerous and especially in these times for Ladies like us. Do not worry yourself with it, my sweet apple. How are you feeling, Megga?"
"I'm feeling well, thank you. I've done your clothing for the week. Is there anything you need, my Lady?" She asked, as Alerie nodded, knowing
"Excellent. I do, actually. I have neatened myself up for now. I have a meeting to attend down at the Harbour later this evening, and I would like you to come. I don't want you to be alarmed, but it's a rather large figure that serves House Tyrell. I'd like you learn a little about them...as their services are rather useful to me as of now."
"That sounds interesting, my Lady. What are they like?"
"Let's leave that a surprise."

--------------------

The Skull - Red Mountains

Collab with @MrDidact and @Monochromatic Rainbow

Garlan Tyrell was a man of command, and even despite the events that had taken grip in the last few days, he had to keep his mind sane. A little wine kept that intact, but not too much. A little control, a little thought, and the fact that there was more waycastles down beneath them in the valleys haunted him. What had happened to Mirren haunted him. He wanted to do right by her at least, and get her to some sort of safety after all this was over, to some work that wasn't as violent or as mad as this. Get her back into the close protection work she did best, not soldiering and recon. And whilst she had proven herself as an unorthodox option, the ace in the hole for Garlan, this wasn't going to be a chain of luck. Not like she had much, what she had now was keeping her alive. From what Garland had mustered from the rushing Maesters and other Priests, they seemed to suggest she was in some sort of weird dream, that whilst her heart did beat, she was not all with it. Such things frightened Garlan, the fear more than being killed by such a beast.

Sitting up in his tented quarters, he made his final observation of the map, looking across to one Dickon Tarly, the General weathered in affairs of war, just like his father had been. It felt strange, they had both been the same age and grown old together, but that made them no less soldiering than they had been before. He had been in half plate, his chestplate on, but legs, gauntlets, helm and the rest not yet on. He was weary, and his decaying hair was a mess even still, his chin gently catching more hair, his skin tanning in the intense sun.

"Now we have the keep of The Skull, we need to think about our next move. I understand that Gendry has allowed more troops to slowly filter in. I don't like how many men we're taking. It weakens the Reach as a whole, it'll leave us depleted if another conflict breaks out in the Seven Kingdoms, one closer to us than some hellhole mountains. Our specialists need to rest too, so I imagine that the griffins and the other fire priests will need to take a step back from the frontlines until they are needed once more. I don't understand their entirely...but I know that we let them run, not be destroyed." Garlan added, looking down at the map, Dickon nodding in agreement.

"We couldn't do anything. The fighting up to here has been hell. There's no way we can carry the morale of the men to continue on. Even dragons couldn't lift the spirits of men now. Telling them to keep on marching in this heat, it's crippling them." Dickon replied, knowing that he'd heard the morale from the other Lieutenants and men inside the army.

"The right one could. And now you do mention that....well, perhaps that is where our strategy falters. Whenever we fight in that arid heat, in the mid-day or afternoon, we are losing our edge. The pressure seems to be so high that the archers can't even get a good shot on for distance. That does make me think, Dickon, something isn't right about it all."

"You're thinking we don't fight in the day, and instead we take on these monsters and beasts in the darkest of night." Dickon was flat in his reply, as Garlan shook his head.

"Not exactly. Early morning raids seemed to be effective, and they worked for us. Deployments in looser formations too, given how much fire they've thrown at us would at least reduce casualties. And the men may not like it, but if we still have discipline, not morale, then that will work in our favour. The enemy aren't as ready, and even if they know that information, it puts us back into a little favour to better fight this conflict." Garlan suggested, as Dickon nodded, looking at the map once more.

"Casualties do need to be reduced. And we could use it in the next few fights. The army needs a breath before we carry on. Your idea is worth trying, but it's not exactly conventional wisdom to tell a group of men with swords, shields and plate to be ready before even the break of dawn. But as you say." Dickon looked at the ridgeline, and in particular, the far side that had also been taken and kept in control.
"How many realistic ways are there off the ridge, Garlan?"

"There's about a handful, one back the way we came, one down the other side, but it's even steeper and impossible to assault. A third down the southern slopes, but that takes you into a very deep valley that would expose you to every attack from any angle until you got to the port of Wyl and past Vulture's Roost, and a fourth to the north into the Dornish Marches, but it requires ropes, ladders and wouldn't suit any horses or heavy armour." Garlan said, knowing the plans as an astute siege engineer would have said themselves, Garlan aware of the proceedures that it took in not only artificial but natural battlements.

"My thought is that they may try and outflank us on that north. We've seen what they're capable of, even with ladders and ropes, they could try it on us. And what happens when they decide that this mountainside isn't worth it and they try and breach out?"
"They'd need to fight a reinforced garrison of Stormlanders and Reachmen. Beyond that is Summerhall, that's the biggest castle in their way. That in it's own right has a Targaryen force, given the status of that castle. Even if they were stupid enough to try it, they wouldn't survive. But....you do make a point. If they took Summerhall, they would hit the Seven Kingdoms in it's lungs. It may not be of the Dornish Marches, but it is a target." Garlan thought about it, looking at particular in the way his troops were filtering in.

"The men at the bottom don't entirely understand what we faced to take this castle. They have numbers and equipment, flat land and enough keeps in their way to slow them down, so that is the only thing in their favour. Plus, we'd be able to come down and crush them...if we gave the mountainside up. So it would be daring if they tried it. And is more than likely to lead to their forces being destroyed. So that leaves...well, the southern end. Vulture's Roost has fallen. But the Prince's Pass remains. And theoretically, if you had enough water and enough dispersal, you could scatter like dust into the deserts of Dorne. Out of the mountains entirely. You'd die if you didn't take an oasis, or a town or castle with a well. Then moved on, and got to the coast and followed it. Again, the Dornish military would know that. So that leaves their third option. Find another mountainside. And repeat this shit to us." Garlan shook his head, as Dickon nodded, looking over at the commander.

"Other than that, there's Hellgate Hall. And their cave networks around it. We may have barely scratched the surface here in destroying their caves beneath the Spine. That is their most likely redoubt. But they know what is at stake. If we could make them starve, we'd wither most of them out quickly. But it appears we want a swift end to this war. So that isn't happening." Garlan added, as Dickon listened attentively.
"Aye, there are options. And they can't do all three. Well, not all of them very well. With their capacity, that is still frightening." Dickon replied, as Garlan nodded, interuptted as one of the Reach bannermen came in, his green and gold armour distinct, as Garlan turned toward the soldier.
"My Lord. I have news on Mirren Sand. She's awake." The man said, rather hurredly and exitedly, as Garlan smiled, one of his rare smiles coming out.

"By the Seven, that's great news." The Tyrell Commander replied, as he followed the bannerman, to Mirren's tent.

Garlan exited to find Gendry standing in front of the tent in his armor, with his sword strapped to his belt. The Baratheon commander rarely went anywhere in plain clothes and never without a weapon. He nodded at Garlan and led the way to the rooms that had been set up as a field hospital for the wounded.

"I just received the news myself. Intend to say goodbye before we leave? Did you and Dickon come to any conclusions in there?" Gendry walked through the old fort as they neared Mirren's sickbed and said, "I just received word from the capital. The King is marshalling reinforcements from the Crownlands to help us in our march on Hellgate Hall."

Gendry turned to Garlan and said, "And the King intends to fly down on Rhaegal himself. He'll help us assault the castle with with Lord Aegon and Viserion. With two dragons, the above-ground fortifications should fall shortly. But knowing Jon, he'll want to descend into the caves with us as well."

The Baratheon knight seemed troubled. He had fought by Jon's side since they were youths in the War for the Dawn, and had come to be one of the King's closest companions. One might expect him to be happy at news of Jon's arrival. But that was clearly not the case.

"I don't like that. It's a big risk. A morale booster, but Jon is taking a big risk. Espcially with what our enemy is capable of, who knows what this could mean. As for strategy...we can discuss it later at the table. Me and Dickon have some conclusions to make, some simple analysis of our tactics and what has worked." Garlan simply replied, just taking it in. It was a big deal, hearing of King Jon coming to this fight, it meant business and would have some severe repercussions. This was a statement of intent, Jon was taking this personally and fighting a fight he could have left his men, or other family members to. But Jon, being the brave King that he was, sometimes a little too brave, would come and fight the good fight. And Garlan, even as open as he could be, knew that it came with it's own hazards.

The conversation drew to a close as they reached the improvised hospice and a guardsman opened the door for Gendry and Garlan. They entered to find several highborn, knights, and officers being tended to on beds surrounded by maesters, nurses, and more than a few priests of different creeds.

Gendry nodded to the surgeon in charge who came over to them and bowed his head. Gendry asked, "How does our champion fare?"

The maester replied, "She is recovering from her bout. The trauma she received was quite nearly life-threatening but the danger is behind her. It will be quite some time before she is well enough to be moved however, and even longer for a recovery. But thanks to the efforts of well your other healers, she was brought out of her coma and we managed to treat the poison and staunch the rest of her wounds. She should be well enough to speak if you wish, but I would caution not to do so for too long, the patient still needs her rest."

The Baratheon general nodded, "Thank you maester." Gendry gestured to Garlan and the two came to Mirren's bedside, Gendry staying silent for the moment as he looked over Mirren's bandages and let Garlan have the first word.

Mirren looked up at the two, eyebrow raised. "My my, two ravishing studs come to visit me by my bedside. I got the memo that I didn't get kisses from the pretty noblewomen - just a slap on the cheek for my troubles - but nobody told me they'd switched it completely and the revered noblemen gave the dashing young adventuress kisses." After a moment, she inclined her head towards Garlan, and then towards Gendry. "I would give a more sweeping bow, but the fellows in rags make a fuss if I try to do much. Won't even let me go to the privy without assistance." She shook her head, narrowing her eyes at one of the maesters attending to another patient before returning her attention to the two men before her. "So what brings you to my hopefully clean bedside?"

"We came to see you, Mirren. Seven hells....that is a wound and a half. I heard what you went through. It's not what anyone wants. No man I know could endure that. Suppose you'll wisecrack that anyway." Garlan said, gentle in his tone, as he took a seat on a small stool by Mirren's bed, looking at her wounds. It wasn't pretty, to say the least.

"We want you to know we're incredibly greatful for what you did. I know you're a servant to coin and I can hardly blame you, given what you've told me. But you served us more honorably than any other soldier in the rank, you gave us an edge where we did not have one. Rest assured, I have something for you, and I imagine so too does the Crown for your loyal service." Garlan said to her, a smile on his face.

"When I first met you, I did not know what to expect. But I know that Willas delievered me a fine warrior, someone who would not play by the rules of any enemy. And you have fought well in this campaign. So I have a proposition. If you want more of this war, you are welcome to stay here, and wait until you are recovered to lead the fight. I will have a suit of plate made for you especially, with whatever design you want. Another horse brought up, and there is a particular brand of light cavalry that is missing it's Lieutenant after the last fight, that if you were willing to take up, would put you on an officer's comission from my brother's coffers, on top of a paid wage by me. There is another option, however."

"Alternatively, you can leave when you are better to travel, and they'll take you to the Reach for something special indeed. There's a good patch of land on the Mander between Highgarden and Manderford, close to the coast in amongst the last hills before the Sunset Sea, with mostly whites planted.It's currently left as a winery and estate to the family under my demesne, but I'd like you to have it. Even if your taste is not to grow wine, it may make a small keep for you and your ambitions in the Reach with some work, with peasants and a few soldiers under your command, and the abillity to acrue the white gold of the wine that is grown there. You'd be a Lady for all intents and purposes of a piece of Tyrell Lordland. You could serve as a bodyguard to Willas and the family in King's Landing with rotation, with all the priviliges that come of being a landowner." Garlan said, knowing she couldn't speak much, but let it sink in for her, as he knew Gendry wouldn't entirely understand.

"I know you are a mercenary by trade.The other option of course, is to remain in a contract with my family for the foreseeable future, as a bodyguard in the Reach nonetheless to Willas Tyrell and the rest of my family, or training with the Knights of the Green Hand. A rolling contract of course, and we know that a Lady of your talents does not deserved to be chained down by the ordinary if that is what you desire most. If there is anything you particularly desire, Mirren Sand, we are able to return the favour. We may not be Lannisters but we have honour to our trusted allies, and friends. And you have held your honour admirably. I wish to return that deed." Garlan looked at her once more, looking at her wounds.

"If it's a bit too much, don't worry. Just know that we are grateful."

Mirren raised an eyebrow, needing a moment to take the magnitude of the offer in. After a moment, she let out a dry laugh, "If we're offering me a piece of land for avoiding our trident slinging friend - why not wait it out and let me pull down the spikes and severed heads from the Vulture King's castle?" She let out another laugh, a hoarse cough cutting her off.

"You're utterly lionhearted, Mirren. That would be to Gendry to decide I am afraid, but it would be worthy. I'm thankful we have your courage on our side." Garlan chuckled, Mirren someone who felt like a friend, something he didn't often get with soldiers underneath him. Of course, it was professional, nothing more than that. But a friend indeed she was, and her nature even in times like this to shine through the way it did make Garlan chuickle a little internally. She gave few fucks inded.

Letting out another dry laugh, Mirren grinned at the man. "I'll hold out hope for the grand jewel - besides, if I were to hold land in the Reach, I'd get waterlogged within a year. Strange enough to visit the Reach or the Crownlands and see grass everywhere - stranger still to actually live right on them. Can you imagine, a Dornish bastard ruling over Reachmen?" She raised an eyebrow, "It'd be a contest between your own bannermen and the Dornish lords over who'd be more indignant." She shook her head, but stopped after a moment, "That does raise the question of bastardy, I suppose. Were I to indeed hold lands in anyone's name, this would potentially pose some issue."

"It would be a fresh lease. Your name would be legitimised, if you wished. It is an offer at the least. And well, it wouldn't be totally alien. Former Northmen rule in the Reach, as do stranger people indeed." Garlan replied, chuckling.
"It is your choice, after all Mirren."

Gendry listened in silence, examining Mirren's wounds and after Garlan's entreaty came to a close, his mouth quirked up and he said, "Your bedside is as clean as can be expected, but I'm sorry to disappoint you. What Garlan does it up to him, but I'm afraid I only have one woman in my life. Fidelity is actually quite simple when one knows that their spouse has a legion of spies and assassins at their command."

The Master of War said, "I'll see to it that the Crown rewards you. You've done a great service for the Kingdom, and I'll make sure the debt is repaid. A knighthood is in order at the very least. I doubt I could have fared any better. But thanks to you, we took this mountain without any further loss of life. And the rest of the rebellious lands are now quickly coming to heel."

"Garlan and I will be leaving soon, with most of the officers. We'll be taking the great part of our host to root out the Vulture King for good and all. But we need someone to make sure this mountain stays in our hands, elsewise this entire mountain range is up for grabs once more. Someone needs to coordinate our reserves with the garrisons at the Vulture's Roost, the other holdfasts and castles under our banner, and the bands that are scouring the tunnel systems these rats hide in. That duty, I intend to leave to you. You may not be able to fight, but you'll be able to lead. I'll make sure you have good knights to aid you. And once you're able to travel, I'll make sure someone can send you on to Blackhaven and back to the capital, if you so wish."

Gendry looked Mirren in the eye, "Do you accept this responsibility? None could blame you if you do not."

Mirren allowed herself a wry grin. "I almost regret that I can't come with you. Maybe I'd get a shot at fighting his big brother - would make for a great story, wouldn't it? Dashing warrior woman vanquishes the infernal rebel king after slaying his brother through skill and grit in the face of superhuman strength and nefarious otherworldly powers. Perhaps at the end I'd find a Valyrian steel blade and so on and so forth." She shook her head, "I can help organize, my lords, though I can't promise much. I've had schooling in the area, but little hands on practice."

She took a deep breath, leaning back into the bed, "I mean no offense, my lords, but I wish to wait out this campaign before taking any oaths or anything else. Ser Gendry, I appreciate your offer, but..." She hesitated for a moment, sighing. "I must confess, knighthood has never held my admiration like it does for many others. I will accept it if you do wish, however."

The seasoned general nodded at Mirren and said, "Once the King has arrived it will be up to him to honor you as the Crown sees fit. I won't claim to speak for him, so it will be Jon who you may speak with when the moment comes." He crossed his arms, leaning against a nearby wall before continuing, "You did well with our men in the tunnels. I can count on you to keep the pressure on the guerillas hiding out in those networks, and keep an eye on those prisoners we have. And the knights and officers we do leave behind can manage the day to day and advise you. Our new forward base in this mountain will be in good hands, and I expect Garlan to receive regular reports."

"As for the Vulture King, you did well with his brother. The soldiers talk of it endlessly. But if I know Jon, he'll want to take on this rebel King himself. And we'll be by his side. There will be plenty of songs and honors for everyone once this is done." Gendry stood straight and nodded to Mirren, "Well, rest easy. I'll see to it your new captains are informed of their duties. Upon our return, the drinks are on me. Garlan, I'll see you soon." Gendry turned to go and as he did so, turned his head back with a smirk, "And once you feel better, I'll see to it that someone be on hand to, personally attend you. Best of luck, Mirren Sand." With that, the Master of War left.

Mirren's eyes widened, the rest of Gendry's words registering with her, but barely. "Forgive me, my lord, I have not been in Westeros for any real length of time for nearly a decade, but..." She looked over at Garlan, unsure of what to think. "Is it really permissible for the king of the realm to attempt to defeat the Vulture King - who I can only assume is a stronger opponent than his brother - and risk the stability of the realm? I know the king is an adept swordsman - but he is no longer as young as some, and with some exceptions, age weakens us all. I'm merely a bastard and a sellsword - if I die, it is no real loss, hire another. A king..." She trailed off, "With all this turmoil, the death of the king to a rebel claiming to be a king in his own right could well plunge the realm into chaos. We do not want another War of Five Kings."

A moment passed, and she was concerned she might have overstepped her position in questioning what Gendry expected the King would want.

Garlan nodded, letting Gendry talk, as he knew that she had a point.
"If we could stop Jon from coming ,we would. He is a brave man to fight the war on his terms. There is a clear line of succession besides, far more than that war. I imagine he'll take it steady." Garlan replied, as he saw Gendry leave, giving a nod, before turning back.

"Though I do agree with you, Mirren. I imagine he won't go and fight that beast after he finds out what it did to you. He'll keep behind a sturdy metal wall of steel if we can help it. I'm an old bastard anyway. Better me than him. I'm not going to rule Highgarden anytime soon." Garlan mused, rather pessemistic of course, almost having a little understanding that whilst what he was saying was little cynical, it did have some reality.

Mirren let out another dry laugh. "Well at least we get something other than my bragging rights out of this mess. I still worry though - a king willing to put himself at risk is good. But with the realm facing threats on this many fronts..." She trailed off, "Forgive me, if I speak out of place, my lord, but I have spent many years in Essos. No matter how solid the line of succession may seem, should there be but the slightest hardship, the faintest hit of opportunity, and those who see themselves as the stronger will take it." She sighed, "But I shall cease digging my own grave, was there anything else, my lord?"

"Nothing for now, Mirren. I hired you because you speak your opinion and not like a lackey, and you wouldn't be wrong. But in these times, men such as myself answer to that system, while you are outside. Perhaps don't take that tone with him or anyone close to him, but be careful. Anyway, I'm thankful that you rose up to that. The stakes are high here, and you delivered when it counted." Garlan replied, as he looked outside once again, sighing.

"If you need me, let me know. It seems we'll be preparing soon. You take it easy now, Mirren." Garlan added, as he nodded to her, before turning and leaving the tent.
@MrDidact

Oh nos! I think Mono and I has a collab to put up to spur things on- it would be nice to get a post from your end and I think by Monday/Tuesday I might write up a spicy Tyrell post. I'm still really interested and I think the setting is good- we might just need to speed up the process a little and get to the carnage, beyond perhaps a couple of rebellions and really bringing out the fear. I really have enjoyed it and while my enthusiasm is there, it's simply as I'm busy too- I get my regular posts in where I can.

I think it's feeling like there's a world to all of it, so I'd really rather stay with this rather than redevelop my characters into future. If it did take a new thread, then it could be perhaps set six months later, in the aftermath of the campaigns and perhaps to a new threat, or a new arc that might have arisen through the land that may as a unified whole affect everyone. Say, a War of Ninepenny Kings scenario with a little more clout....
The MH6 hovered lightly over the riverbank, one of the QRF members helping Eric drag the fallen soldier inside, before the helicopter kicked up and pulled up, kicking up out of the forest. The man seemed to have a British accent, his insignia was that of the British SFSG, and they had been the QRF team of choice of the NATO detatchment in Kosovo.
"Command, this is Ranger Actual, Osprey One is KIA, repeat, Osprey One is KIA. Prep medical team on our return, we've got Osprey Two returning to base with major wounds. We've got a lot of shock, facial injury and disfigurement." The British voice said, as he looked back at Eric once more, looking over.
"Holy shit....hang on in. They got your fucking proper. Just deep, calm breaths." He said, knowing while he wasn't the medic of the team, he had to attend to this right now.
"Okay, we can't do shit in this helicopter. The blood is going to stop, I'm going to hold your chest in. You've broken a few ribs, but the armour's stopped the rest of you being broken. Take a nice moment. You're going to make it. Just fucking hang in." He added, taking a few disinfectant and antiseptic wipes from his medical pouch, a good feat given that he was half-hanging off the side of the helo, leaning in and putting it against his left eye.
"Okay, this should ease any infection. I'm going to give you a significant dose of painkillers. You are going to be tripping balls after this, but it's going to stop you from feeling the worst of your internals when the shock dies down. I need you to wriggle your right arm for me, if you can, so I can get it planted." He added, as he withdrew a syringe, gently taking Eric's arm.
"Okay. Steady." With it, the needle hit his arm, and he hoped that it would at least get him home, the helicopter turning a little as they cleared the forest, heading like thunder back towards the NATO HQ.

----------

At the NATO operations centre in Pristina, the helicopter swooped in quickly, Markus declared dead pretty much on site. It wasn't a pretty picture to say the least, and as they carried him on the stretcher, it wasn't a pleasant sight. But this was the reality. Man down was not a comfortable place to be, and it had been an op that had blown out of propotion, as they helped carry Eric to the medical tent, paramedics and doctors flooding, already going over his wounds, and knowing they had to work hard. There was a lot of blood, and it was messy.

The captured man it seemed, had been left in the armoured car. And Magpie was nowhere to be seen. After all, she'd delivered him to the NATO HQ, and her contact agreed that her little interdiction didn't need any more attention. If the team that had been sent had diverted to take the commander, she was no longer needed. But knew they had tackled a bigger asset, somewhat. Blue Sword had tried to bite into something big, and she had just steered it back on course, that was all. If they knew the intel, they'd dare not fuck with this particular site, but what they didn't know had bit them. For Magpie, she knew her own job to cleanup had been done back at the site, and that The Network had taken a major hit.

------------

Four Weeks Later
Blue Sword Ltd HQ,
Perth, Australia


The plane had arrived in the desert base, the C130 landing on the concrete with a screech, as the Russian looked on from the taxiway, watching. Natalie seemed already willing to wait, dressed in a standard Russian officer's dress, mixed with some western elements. Sometimes she was little revealing, yes, but at work, not as much. A tan and brown digital hexagonal camouflage, her golden blonde hair left long and allowed to blow in the wind, as she looked on at the sight before her, the plane blowing up dust and sand. Her black combat boots, her shirt fully done up, tightly containing her puppies in the bra beneath, or as Victor would see them, an area of pure awesome, with a MP412 REX kept in a holster on her belt. Her rank was displayed, and whilst this was a private company, Natalie was still a Major, and played a part in certain command functions of the contractor; but knowing her better as Black Eagle or that scary bitch who was huge, could carry a M134 and rip people in two with a fucking machete was probably what made that a little redundant, and kept her out in the field more by an unofficial pay. You couldn't replace a giant that easily, after all. Not one of her caliber.

It had been a long few weeks, and for everyone involved, time out was required. It had been bloody and merciless, too much had been lost and sometimes, relaxation was needed for everyone involved. As far as Natalie was aware, Ross and Carl were out of the meat grinder, and for them both, they'd gone through a shitstorm. Their armour needed maintenance and update, . For Natalie, that came with being told that her payout from the Russian interior ministry had arrived, and as a double whammy, Blue Sword wanted Natalie on basic training duties and admin for a few of the soldiers. After all, they were playing around with more armour, and Natalie Denisova knew her shit when it came to that category of equipment. Her former status as an Officer in the Spetsnaz and Russian VDV made her perfect to instill the specialist training, whilst Victor had been left to the leash of vetting basic recruits and scaring the ever-living shit out of them. And they had time out too, time to relax and breathe, even on this desert hellscape, dunes and sand and nothing in the distance. Time to catch up on anything, just chill, fuck a little, enjoy their own time, and be ready to go once again.

So Natalie had been sent here, and waited for Eric Whitford, the man that had been wounded in Kosovo. A notable example, given that his fireteam had taken a loss and hit a major data server in Kosovo. He had known of their activities, they were a specialist intelligence team for Blue Sword, and it had been a loss to the company.

Heading over to the Canadian, she looked him over, the Russian taking in the wound on his eye. It wasn't nice. It was horrid, actually, but the treatment had been performed in Kosovo and then Germany, before he'd been shipped out to here. Natalie was doing a little
"Specialist Whitford, I'm glad you made it. I don't think I need to introduce myself. Let's get out of this heat, come with me." Natalie said, not a great opener given it was harsh and orderly, the Major nodding as she led the way, casting a very long shadow indeed due to her stature.

"I heard about what happened to Fireteam Osprey. I'm sorry to hear it. I've drank with Markus before. He's...he was a good guy. Didnt' deserve that, and neither did you. To still fuck that man over....that takes some doing, I have to say. Don't worry, we're going to get rid of these bastards....with me and Victor in the picture, you can be sure that's something we can do well. But I know you were interested in what we had left." Natalie added, as they headed towards the main buildings, off the runway and back into the shade, through to an office, Natalie having to drop her head as they headed in, this place temporarily given up to her. Heading inside, she found her large seat, stupid given it would take her ghetto-sized booty and gigantic body by a desk that towered, before turning the chair to look over at Markus, pointing to a chair.

"I've heard you had a medical. The wounds are pretty critical to most people...believe me, I nearly died and I can say what happened to you was horrible. Entire left eye is gone, hence the patch and.....right eye seems okay, recovering with time, and a lot of pretty horrible wounds, mostly from the car crash that didn't lead to too much loss of blood or infection. In that way, you're incredibly lucky. For all intents, you should be dead, if that piece of glass went through your retina, you'd be a vegetable. But yet here you are. Makes two of us, Eric." Natalie said in her light French accent, leaning back in the chair, as neutral and analytical as she read her notes and looked at Eric, that was, till the end.

"So, I've heard you are interested in coming back. I mean, that is an option. The other is half retirement package, half desk work. You get to go home to Canada, too. There'll be enough money and work to cover you until retirement, on top of any disability and military pension you'd receive. There's plenty of admin work that the company still has to do, and you could be a desk warrior. Blue Sword likes to minimise costs where it can, but given your nature of work and the value of work that you were involved, there's a lot that you could have to receive. Yet....if you think your other eye is up to it, I'm willing to run you through a shooting exercise through this week, if you want to return. If you need time out, I understand. But there's a new role we think we have for you, and I will let you have that opportunity and tell you more about it when the time comes." Natalie added, as she flipped open her laptop on the desk, pushing it to the side.

"There is also something I should show you, given that you may be surprised to hear what you just did to this network. It was something beyond the scale of what any intelligence agency has found yet. You found a back door into their internal server network. And even better, the commander you...well, kidnapped did return to our custody in a later operation, so I'm told. And after some convincing and car batteries later, he did tell us lots about what our next move can be. Of course, they know their network is compromised. But we still hold the cards here, and already, we've found leads across the globe, some in places we never thought we'd find. What you did is going to cut short our little goose chase." Natalie knew she had a lot to say, as she breathed out, looking across the air conditioned room from her huge stature in the chair, back at Eric.

"This is probably a lot to take in. So, I'll let you think your options through."
@WestWall

There's something about it in general, it's a hell of an aircraft and whilst in the Battle of Britain more of the credit goes to the Hurricane, the way that it grew from a simple fighter into a really sophisticated aircraft towards the end of the war is remarkable- though I feel like the MkIA and MkIIb is the iconic pair, it's just something almost pornographic in Britishness. Something supremely cool about the naval patterns/Seafires though, blue and grey colours and the fact that they fitted 4x 20mms to the Vc is just nuts on an aircraft that can turn and burn.

Sounds good!
@WestWall@ONL

You are correct. I've just stolen a Polish fighter pilot. Have a Czech (or Norwegian, idk), kurwa.

I think the Battle of Britain is awesome, and has easily the greatest orchestral soundtrack to it coolest planes and the stakes involved are grand indeed. Depends whenabouts you set it- if it's really early, you'd look more at Hurricanes and Gladiators, but if you go later, it gets really interesting with the selection of Spitfire derivatives and nightfighters.

Alternatively, the Battle for Norway (shit, I'll make ONL blush), and the bombing campaigns there with Mosquitos is really interesting- 633 Squadron is a great showcase that the Mozzie is a friggin awesome plane, and the British had to adapt to naval strikes a lot more there.

Alternatively alternatively, the Mediterranean if anyone wanted to scratch a really weird spot is quite cool. The Battles for Malta and Libya/Tunisia are interesting fo sho, the camouflages used on British aircraft there look really wicked too. The use of P-40s, Hurricanes and Gladiators against superior Bf109s and Heinkels is really interesting, and few people realise that despite all the tank and other warfare, the P40 was such an effective fighter-bomber and it really did leave a dent as the first real sort of multirole FB in that theatre that could do both roles really well at low altitude.
@ArisenMoon

Shit, I've made a lot of references to the Lord of Goldengrove, I don't ever think I named him but I shall search that up in my posts now in case I have, in which case I can retcon anything for yours- he looks pretty sick :D

Though yes as Didact says, the Tarlys weren't wiped out- Dickon fights alongside Garlan Tyrell, believe it or not. The Rowans still rule Goldengrove and a great amount of the north-west of the Reach, and contribute a sizeable force in the campaigns being fought in the Red Mountains, likely riding the wave that the Reach has in terms of it's agriculture and soft power in the Seven Kingdoms. Chances are, he's got a slot on Merlin's advisory position- so you could place him a great number of places.

That's an awesome character- if you're in the lands of the Reach have a lookey at House Tyrell as it stands and House Florent too. :)

EDIT:

Okay, there was roleplayerguild.com/topics/158165-gam…

which was an old CS but irrelevant and I believe the Goldengrove armies are predominantly in the Stepstones, though I imagine a good number ended up in the Red Mountains.

Also, Alys Rowan (Goldengrove I called her for ages, bleh my fuck up) was married to Willas and had four kids, one named after her by him- she died two years ago. Not sure what that may have as an impact, but they were close.
@MrDidact

Sure, fire me a linky in PM.
Seb was following close, now behind her and carving up, snow throwing itself up as the snow banks of the cavernous glacier began to shallow out, only making them even nicer kickers. Seb was right behind her, almost underneath the moment she flew over and took the 540 she did, sticking away to get the shot, and he knew he'd have his own fun. But it was a hell of a sight to see, Ellie pulling the turn like butter, eloquent and pushing a serious stunt right in full view, it was almost a moment that threw Seb into a slowed down state of mind, totally in his flow. There was a lovely bubble almost of ice, and on his two skis, he could hit the angle right, using the momentum to turn before he'd hit the ice, flipping elegantly in a left-hand down flat spinning 270 cork, landing backwards before skidding over a light ramp to undo the backward landing on the other side of the raised bubble, side by side with Ellie, whooping with joy as he did.

The glacier began to deepen in it's crevasses, as he knew it was becoming more shallow, Seb letting Ellie take the front, the speeds dropping now, the crevasse deepening and dropping further and further, the blue ice walls to their side, the sunlight above. On this icy and snowy mix, it was difficult to go fast, and a couple of kickers were nice to at least kick out against the walls, it felt gentler, calmer, the speed burning off with the number of turns it gave, the ice unstable and slippery, no real push needed to keep the speed on. And it felt calm. It felt real. And in front of him, was Ellie Dorian, carving and dropping away occasionally when the crevasse's geometery changed, Seb sticking to the banks and using the camber to run the walls where the centre dropped away, no tricks really needed here, given it felt like riding inside a very tight pipe without the lid, the navy and ocean blue walls to their side incredible to the view. The crevasse began to peter out, as it began to widen out, the sight of a large moulin, or a glacial pothole coming up ahead. A big hole that went into the bottom of the glacier....and given it was about 150m deep of sheer ice and subglacial conduits that it went to, that was probably a good place to pack it in and stop. The drop wasn't even the biggest deal- it was just not somewhere you could go, and with the limited mountaineering gear Seb had brought, clambering out from this spot was all he wanted for today- no doubt Ellie knew that much too.

Skidding to a stop, he looked across at Ellie, a shit-eating grin on his face as he pulled his neckscarf down a little further, wiping the powder from his goggles and his helmet, breathing out as he lay back and sat down in the powder, out of words and breath, out of anything he could really say.
"That was....okay, that was crazy..." Seb said, unable to really properly convey how happy he was, as he sat up, unclipping from his skis from his feet, and burying them into the snow bank behind, nice and secure for now, to take a look at the moulin, the gentle trickle of water audible. It was a small waterfall to their left, as Seb looked up, the water pouring into the hole, the size of about a van or so, the kind of hole that looked like a portal to another world almost. He looked then to Ellie, grinning as he glanced at the route they'd come down, walking over, arms out to hug her.

"We did it, I can't believe that....that was so good!" Seb embraced her, just utterly running with endorphins, it felt like they'd conquered it and made it their own. And yet...he knew it wasn't because he was alone. It was because he was with her, and they'd done it, together. And suddenly, something felt very real, as they both sat on the snow bank, everything suddenly just not mattering to Seb. He had found the person he wanted to be with, more than anyone else. Because Ellie Dorian wasn't just a ski partner. Or another person who could carve the lines that he did just as well, if not better. She was someone he was realising right there and then, mattered more than just that. She was the only person who had ever pushed him, and he had pushed her back, and they were doing something right. This wasn't casual. This was real, this was more real than anything Seb had ever felt before. Life didn't feel mindless, if it didn't, now what was before did. This felt like it had purpose, and he felt absolutely right about it all. And he didn't know if she felt that way too. But it was right there Sebastian Rietch knew that things weren't just good, they were fucking awesome. And it wasn't because he was sitting by the side of a moulin, or had skied a line that many would struggle to believe if it wasn't for the footage. It was for the companion that had joined him and now, he knew he only wanted more of.

--------

Ross chuckled, as they pulled another 90 degree, on the home straight to home now, to Kimberly's.
"So that's how it happened. You ended up realising you were both as insane as each other, after you know, jumping off cliffs and posting something that half redefined the runs of glaciers. Gotta say, that sounds pretty incredible. "
"That we did. Mer de Glace, or Sea of Ice, is the most well known glacier run that they did before that, but Alto dell'Ortles, the glacier one we went down, we defined that one. The ice always changes in that area, so perhaps now it's totally different. But we made it ours. And I guess me and Ellie were symbiotic. There were a lot of slo-mo shots in that one, moments where I was above her, or she was above me, pulling a mad smile and a trick. Pure paradise." Seb said, as he drunk a bit more from his water bottle.

"And now here we are. Still doing the same. Now all we have to do is get you to do a jump." Seb added, Ross scoffing almost a little.
"Yeah right....I think I know my place. You know, on the ground."
"Ellie will convince you if I can't." Seb chuckled, as Ross pulled in on the pavement, parking up in front of the house, the party slowly dying out, just calming down really after it's peak earlier on, as he sighed, shaking his head.

"Maybe. Knowing her....still, gotta say. Today was cool. Feel free to crash on our sofa if you can't make it back after." Ross added, as he killed the engine, stepping out of his M4, Seb following from his side, as they headed towards the house.
"Thanks man. Shouldn't you consult your..."
"She's probably offered Ellie it already." Ross chuckled, as they went through the door,
"Yeah, I bet."

The party was still in full swing, as Seb dragged in his gear, seeing Ellie, Kimberly and a few other racers around, as Ross headed over to Kimberly, hugging her and gently kissing her on the forehead, gently chuckling.
"All good?"
@MrDidact

That could be good. If you're up for a collab, lemme know.
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