Raknarion

Galactic Conquest

Theme: youtube.com/watch?v=joO3jyU67TI

The firefight had escalated steadily from what the Fleet-master had anticipated. His forces had suffered moderately losses from the Anti-Infantry turrets the infidels had setup. But to his surprise, he and his forces weren't the only ones trying to reach the Vault. The defence forces at the Vault began to move their attention slightly away, focusing more on the newcomers. This gave the Covenant somewhat of a breathing room, even if they didn't need it in their opinion. Chatter came through to the Fleet-master's comm from this

"Fleet-master! Since your descent, several new ships of greater threat has entered the system. One of them has offered to engage in talks. Perhaps a chance to offer your demands for the Vault? I will patch through what it said."

A blaster shot flies past the Fleet-Master as he was about to respond, making him grunt annoyingly. While using some moments to consider what he were to do, the Covenant forces kept fighting. Skilled as they were, none had managed to push forward due to the turrets. The turrets had already demolished most of the Grunts and jackals. The cannon fodder of his troops.

My Hider

“This is Commander Muriel Dar’Tuura of the cruiser Destiny Ascendant. I offer my hangar bay as diplomatic neutral ground. Those who wish may send an envoy post haste. Please limit security escort to four personnel.”

A plan formed within the Fleet-Master's mind.

"All forces within the vicinity, withdraw and engage cloak. Relocate and continue the fight. For the Covenant!"

As he finished to bark the order, forces around him began holding fire and engage their stealth modes. Relocating and recuperating to continue the fight. The Fleet-Master had most often served with regular troops of the Covenant, whom lacked the luxuary of being able to engage stealth. The Fleet-Master alongside some escorts made their way to the cloaked Phantoms, still hovering by the platform.

My Hider

During their ascent to the Battle-Group, the Fleet-Master initiated contact with Commander Muriel.

"This is Fleet-Master Rah Nar'Kolimee of the Covenant. I have decided to grant you the blessing of my attendance to the talks. Prepare for my arrival. If you decide to eliminate me during my stay, however. Know that your end will come swiftly like thunder."

As he announced his eminent arrival to the Destiny Ascendant, the stealth pylons that made the Battle-Cruisers invisible was dis-engaged. Five CCS-Battle Cruisers came to view for all within the vicinity. While Fleet-Master's flagship made it's way to a closer location to the Destiny Ascendant, close enough for the Fleet-Master to use little time in being transported over to the Destiny Ascendant. Without appearing as a target practice. In the meanwhile, two of the Battle-Cruisers made their way closer to Aurora. Pockets of standard transport ships and fighters streamed out of the battle-cruisers, directed to the ruins where the firefight was at a top. The already stationed Covenant troops on the surface had rejoined the firefight. The contents of the Vault would be theirs.

Galactic Conquest

"Hey, scumbag! This is Garuda's -PERSONAL- shuttle platform! Only he or his lot have the authorisation to utilise this! Pay up fifty-five creds or taste my blaster!"

Four thugs under the employment of Garuda the Hutt had their weapons aimed at the single, towering Sangheili whom were just glaring at the lot, silently. The four thugs consisted of three humanoids, and the fourth one was a race somewhat similar to the Sangheili (Trandoshan). They didn't even see it coming.

"What are you glaring at?! Pay up or I'll cook you up for a nice, tasty squidmeal-...What in the?!"



Five phantoms, hovering beside the platform appeared from thin air and opened their side doors. Revealing several weapons aimed at them. In the thug's confusion, four shots were fired upon them. They dropped like flies. Civilians in the vicinity began to run and scream. The phantoms hovered closer to the platform, close enough that Spec-Ops troops began to disembark. The Fleet-Master exited last, offering the decrepit spot they were in a glance.

"The non-believers live like filth and live as filth. Disgusting. Engage cloak and scout the perimeter. Ascetics, join the scouts and see if you can find some trace of the Creator's presence. I want a report within the half-hour. Move!"

As the Fleet-Master gave the orders, he could hear reports of newly arrived ships within the sector. In which he merely grunted at and told them to keep the position. As a perimeter was secured, the leader of the Ascetics spoke over the comms.

"Fleet-Master! I've located the entry to the source we're looking for. It is heavily guarded and lies by some abandoned ruins on the outskirts of the city. It will require all of our current troops in the vicinity to clear it. It seems like the local chief in these parts keeps some of his treasure by the source."

The Fleet Master growled in response.

"The infidel dares to hoard his treasure at the feet of the Creator's shrine?! We will advance at once and will be reinforced soon enough."

As he finished the announcement, the Fleet-Master began barking orders at his troops, and they responded quickly. The Sangheili began to prepare themselves to assault the entrance. Quietly and under stealth, as they knew that the local authorities would soon investigate what had just happened on the platform. In the meanwhile, the various ships in the vicinity began to see weird signals coming up-and down from the planet to an apparently empty spot in space. One could almost think that someone on the surface was talking to no one? Just an empty spot of space. Soon, an encrypted signal began to pop up for the more advanced ships in the vicinity and could see that the signal was sent to an unknown location. Something was afoot.

Within the various Battle-Cruisers, armed Covenant troops began to fill the various transport ships. Should the situation get out of hand, they would reinforce the Fleet-Master and his soldiers. The assault on the entrance began soon after. The habitats of the city could hear the distant firefight. Have the war finally caught up to the refugees of various backrounds?

(Just imagine the backround being the dusty town they're in)

---

The Marked Planet, some moments later.
Pious Transgression, aboard the Illuminated Consecration.

"Arbiter! We've received a signal from Fleet-Master Rah, they've found a potential spot of Forerunner presence. The Fleet-Master believes strongly that they are onto something big. They are about to confront the local forces in the area. What do you wish to do?"

The Prophet listened intently to what the Bridge-Officer had to say, nodding slowly to himself. He moved his gaze towards the Arbiter to see what his intentions were.

"Prepare to move the Pious Transgression to his locations and be ready for combat. Scan the area and mark potential hostiles. Have my personal Seraph prepared for descent. Alert the scouting groups of our intent, but inform them to continue their search."

The bridge-officer simply nodded in agreement and began to fulfil the designated orders. The Arbiter turned towards the Prophet.

"If you wish to not partake in the operation ahead, I can arrange for you to be moved to a more secure location, Hierarch."

The Prophet simply waved the offer away.

"No need, Arbiter. I trust that my security will be held in high regard on this ship during the operation while you are on the surface. Now, let us continue the holy duty that the almighty Forerunners assigned us to."

Some moments later, the Pious Transgression entered slipspace. It would take time, however, before they reached Aurora.

Galactic Conquest

Should we make a discord for this? Could make it easier to communicate with each other.

Galactic Conquest

Theme: youtube.com/watch?v=eqOz3ZUf_0M

---

The Arbiter could see small groups of Covenant warships breaking formation from the Pious Transgression fleet, all groups heading for their each designated direction. The salvaging of the Marked planet had proved to be almost a waste of time. One of the things that had been salvaged that he could use to his advantage was a database displaying the exact position of nearby planets. Alongside some articles of interest. The initial scans showed that they displayed similar traits as The Marked Planet. But alas, the planets wasn't close enough for a thorough scan for Forerunner presence. The Arbiter had formed several scouting parties to the various planets, all had orders to withstand from launching an attack. Except if a planet was defenceless and showed positive with Forerunner presence. He personally remained behind with the main force of the Pious Transgression, whom held their position above the Marked Planet, for now. As the Cloaked scouting parties was out of visual sight from the Command bridge upon The Arbiter's flagship, the Illuminated Consecration, he left the bridge and headed for his quarters. There were reports to read and study.

With a single press of an illuminated button, The Arbiter had a screen pop up, displaying the scout parties and their commanders. He held little respect for those under his command, even less trust. There was one of them that he preferred over the others. Fleet-Master Rah Nar'Kolimee. During the brief encounters with this Fleet-master, he had displayed non-questionable loyalty and obedience to The Arbiter's orders. Only negative that could be said of this Sangheili was his recklessness. It had costed him victories. This is why the Arbiter chose him to travel for the planet that had hints of Forerunner technology upon it, based upon articles of archaeological findings of an ancient structure that hadn't been unlocked for centuries. The name of the planet? Aurora.

---

Fifteen Hours Later.
Close to the planet of Aurora.

The five CSS-Class battle-cruisers had the planet of Aurora in their visual sights. It didn't seem like they had any sort of orbital defences, or a defending fleet. There was decent activity of smaller ships, however. The Fleet-Master of this scouting party, Rah Nar'Kolimee, had deemed them to be travelling merchants ships and thought no more of it. His initial plan was to report the lack of any Forerunner technology, but his move was cut short by a beeping light from one of the consoles. The scanning had proved positive on Forerunner presence. It was located at one of the smaller and insignificant cities. The Arbiter's orders was clear. A physical investigation was required for this, in which the Fleet-Master himself had chosen to participate in. With their battle-cruisers cloaked, and positioned a safe distance away from the planet, The Fleet-Master and his task-force departed in cloaked transport ships, that would hopefully keep them off the radar of anyone present at the planet.

Galactic Conquest

Theme: youtube.com/watch?v=tRAi43RE-NU

---

It didn't take long until various 'bleeps' began appearing onto the holographic radar table, displaying ships fleeing the planet by the dozens. It did not matter, there few left after the initial move by the Pious Transgression. There would be few enough to spread the word of the incoming wrath, few enough to create fear in the masses in the nearby systems. Troops had already landed on the surface, eliminating the few, petty threats against the cleansing of the world. Reports began coming through the comms, the slaughter had already surpassed thousands during the initial barrage of purging of the planet. The Arbiter was pleased with this small, yet significant victory. The initial scouting of the planet had proved fruitless in their search for any Forerunner technology, some of his shipmasters even had the insulting nerve to suggest that they could spare this planet of cleansing due to it's lack of any Forerunner presence. The Arbiter would have none of it.

He placed his hand onto a console, created with space enough for one, Sangheili, hand. This planet was chosen to mark the arrival of the Covenant, to signal that the Great Journey would soon arrive and burn the non-believers in hellfire. Before him stood a view of the planet's most significant, and largest populated city. There was nothing but disgust in his eye as he began laying pressure onto the console. A continuous laser beam came from his flagship, the one he was aboard, and landed directly on the city below. To the Covenant troops on the surface, they could see a magnificent beam tearing through the city, slowly but steadily. Leaving nothing but glass in it's wake. From a safe distance, of course.

The Prophet of Mercy observed the Arbiter from behind, slowly nodding his head as he saw what Mark this world would be granted. The Covenant mark of "Arrival". A fitting choice by the Arbiter, signifying their arrival to the Galactic Center.

"You have done well, Arbiter. This will show the mongrels that inhabits this sector that their end is approaching. I am pleased."

The Arbiter simply glanced back at the Prophet, offering but a nod. Nothing else was needed to acknowledge the compliment. The Prophet, sitting upon a levitating throne, moved towards a screen with a camera upon it. It soon began flickering the image of the Prophet and his Honour Guards. Broadcasting to the few surviving ships from the unfortunate planet.

"Listen, non-believers! You may believe that you have been blessed by your false gods, to survive this little and insignificant onslaught! But you too will soon face justice of the Great Journey, soon hellfire will consume you and your loved ones! Spread the word; That the Arrival of the Covenant have been ushered upon this sector, and those who wishes to halt the eventual forthcoming of the Great Journey will falter! If you wish to live for but a glimpse longer, tell all those whom inhabit and taint the planets blessed by the Creators, The Forerunners, that they will soon be cast into hell by the Wrath of the Covenant!"

The broadcast ended moments later, showing the view of the fiery Mark that the Arbiter had created upon the planet.

Galactic Conquest

Faction Name: The Covenant

Faction Leader/Government:

Heads of State: The Hierarchs - Prophet of Truth, Prophet of Regret, Prophet of Mercy. These three are the Shepards that will illuminate the way to the Great Journey.

De facto leader: Prophet of Truth.
High Council: Consists of more than 200 Sang’heili & San’Shyuum, they lead the daily conduct of the Covenant. Military and Civilian operations.

Brief Description of Technology:
The Covenant technology is repeatedly referred to as more imitative rather than innovative. Their technology is based largely on mimicry and reverse-engineering of the leftover Forerunner artifacts they have discovered. In Covenant culture, there are religious laws set that prevent them from fully exploring what the Forerunners employed to create that technology. Their ships can enter slipstream space and travel faster than light. Most of the Covenant arsenal is plasma-based Directed Energy Weapons, however the Covenant are known to utilize pulse lasers, particle beam weapons, as well as antimatter and even chemical crystal-based weapons.

Types of beings that exist in your faction (All humans, mixed alien etc): The Covenant consists of various species that inhabit their corner of the wide-spread galaxy. The two leading species within the Covenant are The Sangheili and the San’Shyuum.
(The link provides an overlook over the other species: halo.wikia.com/wiki/Category:Covenant… )

Philosophy/Goals Etc:

The Covenant Empire is founded on and united by a single religion, based upon the worship of the ancient race of beings known as the Forerunners. According to the Covenant religion, the Forerunners, being nearly omniscient and all-powerful beings, discovered a method to transcend the physical world and achieve divinity.

To transcend like the Forerunners did, the Covenant have scoured their part of the Galaxy for centuries, desperately and zealously searching for the conduit which will bring forth the Great Journey. Through a recent discovery of a Forerunner database, the Prophet of Mercy believes that he will find a clue in the search within the Galactic Center. No one will stand in their way.

Brief History:

The Covenant formed 4 centuries ago, when the Sangheili and the San’Shyuum decided to end their warring and focus on the thing that truly mattered: The Great Journey. From there on, the Sangheili acted as the Military leaders of the Covenant, while the San’Shyuum led the leaders of State and Faith. Throughout their search and expansion, they have recruited various species. It has only been through faith and fear that these species have kept it together. There have been conducted genocides in order to keep the Peace within the Covenant.

But in the recent years, the High Prophets and the High Council have grown intolerant of outsiders, and are hostile. If an unknown species inhabit a world where there may be Forerunner technology, they are considered heretics, and must be purged. Those whom have defiled the Creator’s creations shan’t be granted a spot on the Great Journey, the High Prophets say. A great number of Sangheili are now starting to question the High Prophets, even some of the High Council shares doubts. Tensions are at an all-time high.

Through a recent discovery of a Forerunner database, the Prophet of Mercy believes that he will find a clue in the search within the Galactic Center. Which have eased some of the tensions, he only hopes the Covenant won’t fall until he has found the Conduit to the Great Journey. The Prophet of Truth have blessed Prophet of Mercy with an expeditionary fleet into the Galactic Center.

The Arbiter, Arath Nar’ Lodimee have been given the task to escort the Prophet of Mercy to the Galactic Center with a fleet of 50 warships and 25 support ships. He is to retrieve any Forerunner technology as possible, and if needed, terminate potential infestations on Sacred Grounds. The Prophets have christened this fleet with the name of; The Fleet of Pious Transgression.

Name: Arath Nar’ Lodimee

Title/Rank (if you have one): The Arbiter

Gender: Male.

Species: Sangheili.

Description:

Unique traits/Personality: The Arbiter is known to be ruthless and zealous in his devotion to the Prophets, and to the Great Journey. His entire life have been based upon an obsession to gain Ascendance into the Great Journey. He trusts no one, besides the Prophets, might even call him paranoid, not to his face however. The Arbiter feels himself to be superior, as he have been hand-chosen by the Prophets to be their Arbiter and to lead the search for the very artifact that shall bring upon the Great Journey.

Equipment: The Arbiter dons the traditional and mandatory suit that befits those of the Rank of an Arbiter at all times. The only time the suit comes off is the day he dies in the name of the Covenant. It is an older and less flexible suit than the equipment the normal Sangheili dons, but there’s no equal when it comes to endurance. He will withstand much more than the usual soldier will withstand. His weaponry consists mainly of his Energy Sword and a Carbine rifle, but he has adapted most of the arsenal of the Covenant throughout his military career and has no problem utilizing it.

He commands the fleet of Pious Transgression with his flagship: The Illuminated Consecration.



Brief Bio:

Before his rebirth as the Arbiter, he was born to an old and noble family of the Sangheili. On the planet of Sanghelios, the homeworld of the Sangheili. From the day he could walk, he was indoctrinated into the military ways of his species. He was destined to battle in the name of the Covenant, he was destined to die in the name of the Covenant. Arath was always at the top of his classes during the military academy, defeating every opponent that his instructors would send at him. It didn’t take long until he had his first command in clearing a sector of that was infested with a rogue species that had once been of the Covenant. It was there he gained his reputation as being a cruel and ruthless commander. No one of the enemy survived the cleansings he conducted towards their planets. No man, woman or children.

At the age of thirty five, he had gained the rank of shipmaster, but at the end of a five year campaign against the last remains of the rogue nation, he had ascended to the rank of Fleet-master. Few had of the age had seen such an efficient commander, or a more crueler devil that deposed of all that opposed the Truth of the Covenant. But his glorious military career reached an end when the patriarch of his clan, his elder brother, was found guilty of heresy. That meant the end of his family’s influence and status as nobility. It also meant that Arath had to be eliminated as Fleet-master, seeing as he shared blood with an infidel. The High Council sentenced him to death.

But the Prophets had other plans for him. They needed a man of his prowess to lead the search for a Forerunner database that could contain the secret for the Covenant’s ascendance, it was of outmost importance. To elevate him to the rank of Arbiter meant that his death sentence was postponed, for some time. Arath, as a person, died when he accepted the role he was given, and was reborn as The Arbiter. With a determination to save his place within the Great Journey, he now escorts the Prophet of Mercy and lead the Fleet of Pious Transgession at the outskirts of the Galactic Center. Having their sights aimed upon a planet of habitable environments, and a civilized population. May the gods that the population worship save them, for The Arbiter intends to do the opposite.

Galactic Conquest

Throwing the Covenant from Halo into this. Sheet will be up soon.

The Dance of Dragons - (ASoI&F) (GoT) - [Openly Recruiting]

Lord Ralf Crakehall

Theme - youtube.com/watch?v=NknjE2SBPxw

---

The sweet, chill breeze of northern winds grazed Ralf's face as he enjoyed a moment of tranquility, using what few moments by himself to enjoy the imagery infront of him. The King's Road, stretching farther than horizon, flanked on both sides the beauties of nature. Woods, wildlife, nothing. The King's Road in these parts were usually packed with journeymen with all intentions. Not now, however. The hour was early, earlier than folk like. Ralf had a tendency to do this, spend an hour or less on just enjoying the view. This exact view on a hill overlooking the grounds before it. He had done this for more than twenty years, every time he rode this path.

But the World tends to stop - nay, ruin moments like this. The voices of his retinue, armor clanging and banging, horses neighing, finally got the Lord out of his state of tranquility. They had finally catched up with him. As they always does. A choir of "My lord or M'lords" hang in the air as he turned around to face the retinue. All eyes set upon him. Ralf knew the men were eager for the sweet comforts of King's Landings' many a taverns and brothels. Usually, the Lord liked to tease the lads, using his sweet time in preparing himself for departure once more. But this time, he was in agreement with the rest. T'was best to reach the Capitol soon, no more delays. The band was a day or two away from the city.

As the band began their journey on horsebacks once more, a thought within Ralf's head made him curious. How was his children doing? As he glanced over his left shoulder, Ralf saw his heir, Roderick, with some of the younger men-at-arms that held security over the retinue. There was nothing but laughs from his son and his friends. This pleased Ralf, seeing his son becoming friends with those that serves Crakehall. Being friends with one's subjects makes the prospect of ruling much easier. And loyalties are more easily made. Ralf had done the same in his youth, and now he is surrounded by hardened men with swords that would die for him.

Now he glanced to his right, where his daughter rode, his Sweet-Apple. She was the opposite of her brother. Being friends with someone was something she had never experienced. There hadn't been much of friends for her back at Crakehall. There was close to none of her age that was of worth to be her friends, atleast not within the Castle's vicinity. She had only grown farther away from her family, spending the days with her mother and the Sept that had been assigned to learn her on how to become a proper Nobless. It wasn't healthy for her, Ralf had said oft to his wife, but she would have none of it. To become friends with lesser folk. Ralf had a hope within him, a hope to find a proper and worthy match for his Sweet-apple. Someone to bring joy to her life, take her away from Crakehall. If she stayed longer with her mother, he feared she'd become just like her. Disturbing thought.

A deep, troubled sigh escaped Ralf as the retinue moved on. Signs of life on the King's Road began to show. Merchants and normal folks travelling. Men and women alike payed their respect to the Lord Crakehall and his retinue by offering simple gifts, fruits and such. Ralf and his band graciously accepted, spreading word that Crakehall would love to house merchants and the like for their services. The lands of Crakehall had become somewhat desolate of strangers lately, and new-faces was rare, but dearly welcomed. Perhaps some of the merchants would take Ralf up on his promise on housing in return of their sales.

After Ralf had exchanged some words with a fur-trader from north, he noticed that his son had positioned himself by his side.

"Father, if you don't mind, why do some of the small-folk pay you respect? They're not your subjects, they've no reason to offer your such gifts."

A chuckle escapes Ralf, raising a finger and points it towards the Crakehall banner which one of his men were carrying.

"To give a nobleman a reason not to plunder their supplies and sully their women. A small, but gracious gift shows their devotion and loyalty to those of higher-birth. None would question should a nobleman, like you and me, decide to raid some of these poor-folk of their belongings."
A simple "Ah" comes from his son, not the reply the boy had expected, Ralf was sure. Nothing more than silence was exchanged between the two for a while, until Roderick decided to re-join his band of companions a tad further back the retinue. The lord did not mind. His mind was set upon the high towers in the horizon. They had finally arrived at King's Landing.

Halo: Acceptable Losses

Private Ralf Thann

---

"Your deployment orders have been passed through the chain of command to your squad leaders. We will be the first boots on the ground. Mount up in your pelicans, and you show those alien mother fuckers what it's like to mess with the Marines! Dismissed!"

"Hoo-rah!" Echoed Ralf alongside the other Marines as the Major finished his speech. The private was the last to arrive of the squad, the Sledgehammers. He liked the name, had power in it. Before the speech began, he had quietly offered the rest of the squad a nod, acknowledging them. As they made way for the designated pelican that would descend them down onto surface, he scanned his brothers-and-sisters in arms, making sure he would recognize their looks should the need for it arise. No words came out of him during the walk however, a rare sight. It was just now it hit him that he would soon meet the Covenant face-to-face. He could die even. The thought had never really affected him much, but now it did. He 'scanned' his squadmates one last time, fearing it might be the last time Ralf would see faces that didn't have a look of dread upon them.

As the group arrived to the Pelican, Ralf positioned himself accordingly alongside the others, awaiting potential words from their squad-leaders.

The Dance of Dragons - (ASoI&F) (GoT) - [Openly Recruiting]

King Viserys of House Targaryen, the first of his name, King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, Protector of the Realm, is dead.
His Grace passed peaceably abed with his good wife, Queen Alicent and his first trueborn son at his side. In accordance with the decree of the Great Council of 101AC and the laws of Gods and Men, his crown has passed to Crown Prince Aegon Targaryen, the Second of his name, Rightful King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, Protector of the Realm.
Crowned in the Dragonpit, anointed in the oils of the Seven alongside his good wife Queen Helaena. May their reign be long and peaceful.

Grandmaester Orwyle

---

Ralf Crakehall

The sun shined like a golden orb of magical creation, illuminating the vast forests and grounds surrounding the Crakehall Castle. Small folk had gathered within the courtyard to hear the local Crier bellow out the recent news, news that most oft would not affect the common-folk. But Lord Ralf knew more than they did, his gut told him something was on its way. He observed the crowds from his balcony, centered close enough for him to hear the gasps and talk of the gathered once the Crier had finished his bellowing. The Lord knew of the ill relationship between the new King and of the royals at Dragonstone. Blood would be shed, much or little remained to be seen.

His desk had been placed out at the balcony, allowing the Lord to work with matters that he would normally leave his steward to attend. But as of late, the usual matters had turned more serious with the coming of a new King. Plans had to be made for his departure to King's Landing, where he would personally swear fealty to King Aegon. Then there was other matters, of course. His sole daughter, a beauty among a pack of ugly pigs, was soon of age to be married off, and King's Landing was just the spot to find a worthy match for his 'Sweet Apple'. Then there was his two sons. The heir and his little brother. The heir, named Roderick after his grandfather, was to accompany Ralf to King's Landing. 'tis was an opportune time to teach the boy some politics. Ralf hated politics. He had no doubt his son would feel the same. The youngest of the pack was Albert, a boy with an eye of a hawk and smell of a boar. He would take regency, alongside the Steward of course, over Crakehall. Conduct normal matters like solving farmer's feuds or funding to some project.

Knock knock came from the door leading to the balcony."Enter." Grunted Ralf loudly as he overlooked some scrolls. A familiar face came forth, not a welcome sight however. His wife, Marin, was the definition of Seven -living- hells for Ralf in this life. They didn't love eachother, but both did what was expected of them. Make children to further the line. And occasional drunken love. Love hadn't existed between the two since Ralf fathered a bastard, Randall. He served Ralf as a sworn sword.

"Why haven't you packed your things yet?! You're less a day from traveling to King's Landing!"

A loud sigh escaped Ralf as she began speaking, only worsening the mood. "I don't have much to pack, I shan't be there a forth-night even. You should focus on preparing your daughter for the journey, she need some 'Motherly Guidance' on how to present herself to potential matches." Follwing quietly with; "Seven hells."

She was easily agitated, Ralf was sure the crowds below could hear the two arguing. "And what will you do then in King's Landing, hm? Father some useless bastard again to carry on your disgusting, ugly seed?! You know what? Take the first bastard with you and sell him off to an older version of you, maybe he'd like an ugly pig?!"

The sound of a slap and a following set of wailing emits from the balcony, loudly enough for some commoners to briefly gaze up towards the tower.

"I am kind to you, and ALL whom I consider as family. I did a mistake to sleep with Albert's mother, aye. But I corrected that by giving him and his mother a life beyond poverty, WOMAN! Now leave me before I throw both you and me down to the yard, even if the idea of me being crushed moists your womanhood." Ralf breaths heavily, staring with a dangerous look upon his 'beloved' wife.

---

"My lord! The horses and guards are ready for departure at your will!" The yelling came from Ralf's childhood friend, Gregory, the Master At Arms of Crakehall. Ralf offered the yard before the portcullis leading out of the castle a final look. His eyes inspecting and his mind double-checking what matters that needed tending before his departure.

Someone tucked Ralf's arm while his mind was at another place. "Hurh, what?" It was his son, the heir, that tucked him. "We should leave, father, lest mother finds something to stop us with!" The Lord chuckled at that, using his left hand to massage the other hand that had slapped the Lord-Mother before. "You're right, Roderick. Let's make haste, I want to arrive King's Landing before snow entraps us within that horrid city! Hyah!" As of that, the Lord's band departed Crakehall, making haste to King's Landing.