House Among Chaotic Kingdoms

Votes for this Turn:

A1 - Joffrey - 33

A2 - Hunt - 1

A3 - Study - 0

A4 - Robert - 11

A5 - Cersei - 0

A6 - Theater - 7

S1 - Wikipedia - 0

S2 - Steam - 0

S3 - Paradox - 46

S4 - World - 6

Turn(s):

1 More - 5

2 More - 1

3 more - 1

4 More - 28

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Rolls for this Turn:

Personal: Tyranny Wiki

Thanks to Barik, Arya Stark now has a Sworn-shield.

Barik is a lieutenant from the Winterfell Guard who you've never seen outside his armor, who has agreed to head the detachment of Northmen tasked with guarding the Future Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.

While at first he’ll simply serve as head of the Starks southern guard, he has sworn a separate oath to stay near Lady Arya's side whenever her father goes back north.

She, in turn, has sworn to keep him in a position of respect and authority in regards to herself and her family, even possibly in the Kingsguard, once the time comes.

World: Witcher Wiki

Thanks to the Harviken, Long Lake Province now has a third location of significance, a moderately sized town ruled by your vassal Clan.

It rests on the Eastern side of the Lake, near the middle, with the clan controlling a large part of the Lonely Hills within your Province.

(Names left vague as we’re voting for them, this turn.)

(Also, to those who still hate her, this roll actually makes Lady Heelis weaker, since those little no-name towns were the heart of her power, and now a bunch of them on the Eastern Shore are part of the Clan rather than the general province, and so not really her direct jurisdiction anymore.)

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Story:

Ser Rodrik had the yard set up wrong that morning, and you knew it the moment you walked through the gate and saw ropes, beams, hurdles, and low walls where the practice lanes ought to have been.

Ser Barristan was there too, standing off to one side in his white cloak, calm as anything, which made the whole thing feel even worse because if a king's guard had come to watch, then whatever misery had been planned for you was probably meant to teach something important.

Rob looked suspicious right away, though he was trying not to show it.

Jon looked like he'd accepted his fate already, which was about as close to dread as anybody was ever likely to get out of him.

Arya looked thrilled, which should've warned everybody.

Joffrey studied the course for a moment, then let out a quiet breath and said he hoped breakfast had at least been memorable.

That got a laugh out of you, mostly because it was either that or start complaining early, and there'd be time enough for complaining soon.

Joffrey glanced your way after saying it, and though he still looked perfectly pleasant, you could already tell he'd realized what you had.

The two of you were going to suffer more than the others.

Ser Rodrik let you all stare at the course for another few seconds, then said the day's lesson would be about staying alive after your strength had already started to fail.

Not winning while fresh.

Not looking clean and clever.

Staying alive while tired, winded, and halfway to collapse.

Then he pointed at the course and said none of you would be allowed to spar until you'd each finished three full circuits.

Rob groaned under his breath.

You groaned out loud.

Joffrey murmured something very polite that still somehow sounded like a curse.

The course had plainly not been built with fairness in mind.

The hurdles were low enough to force awkward jumps, the beams were narrow enough to punish heavy steps, and the rope climbed a bit into your palms before you'd even reached the middle of the first circuit.

There was a crawling tunnel too, which caught cloth and armor alike, and a hauling section near the end that made your shoulders burn before you were halfway done.

Arya flew through it like she'd been waiting all week for somebody to invent a lesson exactly suited to her.

She skipped over the beams, slipped under the ropes, and cleared the hurdles with the sort of ease that made you want to accuse her of cheating even though she obviously wasn't.

Jon wasn't as quick as her through the nimble parts, but he wasted so little motion that he stayed ahead anyway.

Rob hit the course the way he did most things, with grit first and grace second, and though he stumbled once or twice, he never looked close to stopping.

You and Joffrey had a much rougher time of it, which wasn't because either of you we’re bad.

That was the truly irritating part.

The two of you were the only ones there being trained to fight in full plate, and full plate had absolutely no interest in helping a person scramble over walls, crawl through dirt, or balance on narrow beams with any kind of dignity.

By the middle of the first circuit, your legs were already burning, and by the end of the second, you were starting to think armor had probably been invented by somebody with a personal grudge against comfort.

Joffrey wasn't faring much better, though he suffered in a quieter way.

He caught his shoulder against the lip of the tunnel, muttered something under his breath, and then actually apologized to nobody in particular for the language before dragging himself onward.

That nearly made you miss your footing from laughing.

By the time the third circuit ended, everybody was breathing hard, but the gaps between you had become fairly obvious.

Arya finished first, then turned around and watched the rest of you with the bright look of somebody who knew she was winning and intended to enjoy it.

Jon came in next, flushed and damp-haired but still looking as though he could've managed another lap if ordered.

Rob followed not long after, stubborn as ever and dripping sweat for his efforts.

You crossed the line just ahead of Joffrey, then bent over with your hands on your knees and tried very hard not to die in front of royalty.

Joffrey staggered over a moment later, straightened with some effort, and said he was glad to see the honor of heavily armored fighters had been preserved by the two of you humiliating yourselves together.

That got a sharper laugh from you than your lungs appreciated.

Even Ser Barristan looked faintly amused, though Ser Rodrik waited only until you'd all just started to think the worst part was over.

Then he handed out practice weapons and said the real lesson was beginning now.

That landed like a blow all on its own.

Arya protested first, though not for long.

Rob muttered something about northern cruelty.

You considered falling over on principle.

Joffrey thanked Ser Rodrik very politely for the warning, which was either admirable or deranged.

The first pairings went poorly for almost everybody.

Exhaustion dragged at your feet, dulled your timing, and turned every little flaw into something harder to hide.

Fresh, a person could cover for a lot with speed or good instincts.

Tired, all of it started showing.

Arya was still fast, still sharp, and still far too pleased with herself, but tiredness bit into her style harder than it did most.

So much of what made her dangerous depended on quick feet, clean angles, and snapping in and out before anybody could answer her properly.

Once that edge dulled even a little, openings started appearing.

Jon stayed steady, which was maddening but expected.

Rob still hit hard, and once he was in close, he made that everyone else's problem.

But this was where Joffrey started looking different from the rest of you.

He'd stumbled through the obstacle course, same as you had, maybe worse, and he'd grumbled through most of it in that quiet way of his, but once the sparring started, it became very obvious what all that armor training was buying him.

He could take hits that would've checked somebody else, keep moving through them, and force the pace anyway.

Not wildly or stupidly.

Just with the sort of confidence that came from knowing half the blows landing on him weren't enough.

Even Jon had trouble once Joffrey got inside his reach and stayed there.

That didn't mean Joffrey was perfect.

Tiredness still found its cracks.

Now and then, somebody managed a win off a clean technical mistake, like catching him too square after a hard exchange or knocking him slightly off line when his footing had gone sloppy.

Still, he dominated more often than not, and he did it while staying as pleasant as ever, which somehow made it worse.

The real satisfaction came from Rob.

He'd already lost thrice, and he looked thoroughly sick of being outdone, so when his next chance came, he stopped trying to match Joffrey for polish and simply decided to be bigger.

For now, at least, he still was.

Joffrey planted too heavily after an exchange, Rob drove forward with shield and shoulder, and that was that.

It wasn't graceful or subtle.

It was just Rob using the fact that he was one of the oldest there and, for the moment, still the largest, to send Joffrey backward into the dust.

Joffrey hit the ground hard enough to make everybody notice.

Rob stood over him, breathing like a bellows and looking almost offended it had taken that long.

You couldn't even blame him.

Rob was older than you, broader than you, and still carried that edge of size and strength the rest of you hadn't quite caught up to yet.

Though the funny part was that it no longer looked secure.

You were gaining on him quickly enough that it had become hard not to notice, and at the rate you were growing, it seemed entirely possible you'd outsize him before long.

Joffrey, to his credit, only laughed once he'd landed.

He took Rob's hand when it was offered, hauled himself back up, and said he'd do his best in the future not to insult the ancient northern art of being very large and throwing oneself forward with conviction.

That got a real laugh from Rob, which probably did more for the mood of the yard than the win itself.

Even Ser Barristan's mouth twitched at that one.

Your own bouts went better than they once would've.

Jon still gave you trouble because Jon gave everyone trouble, and he had that infuriating habit of staying calm no matter how tired he got.

But Rob no longer bowled through you the way he once had, and when the two of you matched up, there were times now where he simply couldn't put you down before the bout was called.

That felt good in a quiet, solid sort of way.

Arya had an even harder time with you, which annoyed her tremendously.

She was brilliant, everybody there knew it, and Ser Rodrik wasn't even trying to hide it anymore, but your style was almost perfectly built to spoil hers.

She wanted speed, clean strikes, and room to work.

You gave her armor, pressure, and the rude truth that landing a hit wasn't always the same thing as landing one that mattered.

She did manage one win on a technicality by slipping around and tapping your visor gap.

Then she celebrated like she'd conquered half the realm.

You'd have minded more if it hadn't actually been a very good move.

By the end of the lesson, everybody was bruised, filthy, and breathing hard enough to make talking feel optional.

That was when Ser Barristan finally spoke, saying the course hadn't been built to find the prettiest fighter.

It had been built to find what remained when prettiness ran out.

Ser Rodrik nodded at that and said boys often liked to think fighting began with the blade, when more often it began in the lungs, the legs, the back, and in whether a body still obeyed after it had already been asked for too much.

Speed went first, breath went next.

Fine footwork followed after.

What remained was training, nerve, and the kind of style a person had made for himself.

That stuck with you harder than most lessons did.

There were ways of fighting that looked clumsy at first and still ended with the other fellow on his back.

There were ways of fighting where seeming slow didn't matter much, so long as you were still standing when somebody quicker had started to fail.

And there were lessons that only really made sense once you were too tired to enjoy learning them.

You limped out of the yard aching from shoulder to ankle, with Arya still gloating, Rob in a far better mood now that he'd put Joffrey in the dirt, and Joffrey beside you looking like somebody who'd been dragged through six kinds of misery and somehow decided he'd had a worthwhile time.

Honestly, you were starting to see why people liked him so much.

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Skills:

Combat:

(8) Westerosi CQC - 15/100 (+50) (Talented In North)

(6) Westerosi Swordsmanship - 65/100 (+25)

(9) Northern Archery - 60/100 (+30) (Skilled)

(6) Northern Equestrianism - 20/100 (+15) (Knack)

(9) Heavy Armour - 25/100 (+50) (Prodigious) ←

Diplomacy:

(7) Interpersonal Communication - 15/100 (+15) (Skilled) ←

(3) Public Speaking - 27/100 (+7) (Skilled)

(11) Management - 60/300 (+30) (Prodigious)

(4) Stewardship - 73/100 (+7) (Knack)

(4) Northern Law - 53/100 (+7) (Knack)

(4) Westerosi Law - 43/100 (+7) (Knack)

Language:

(8) Common Speaking - 10/100 (+15) (Knack) ←

(8) Old Tongue Speaking - 25/100 (+15) (Knack)

(6) Valyrian Speaking - 65/100 (+15) (Knack)

(6) Common Reading - 55/100 (+10)

(3) Westerosi Runes - 100/100 (+10)

(5) Valyrian Reading - 90/100 (+10)

Scholarly: (Knack in North)

(7) Math(s) - 35/100 (+10)

(7) Accounts - 90/100 (+30) (Prodigious)

(8) Northern History - 85/100 (+15) (Knack)

(6) Westerosi History - 35/100 (+10)

(6) Northern Peoples - 90/100 (+10)

(5) Westerosi Peoples - 15/100 (+10)

Leisure: (Knack in North)

(7) Northern Hunting - 80/100 (+15)

(4) Fishing - 41/100 (+7)

(4) Swimming - 1/100 (+7) ←

(2) Seacraft - 41/100 (+7)

(4) Climbing - 50/100 (+24) (Skilled In North)

(3) Acting (Lying Convincingly) - 23/100 (+3)

(9) Herbology - 10/100 (+30) (Prodigious) ←

War:

(6) Strategy - 75/100 (+25) (Prodigious)

(1) Castrametation - 85/100 (+0)

(1) Poliorcetics - 85/100 (+0)

(1) Fleetcraft - 10/100 (+0)

(1) Battlewise (coup d’œil) - 10/100 (+0)

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Earning: 5

Spending: 0

Banked: 25

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Rolls for Next Turn:

T5 = Power/Skill for a Prominent Figure

L6 = Moderately Convenient

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Voting:

Main Actions: What will you be doing with the Royal family next turn?

A1 - (On Cooldown)

Risk: Mid

Reward: Gain a Friendly reputation with Joffrey, +++ Arya.

A2 - Go on a Hunt with Sansa, Jon, Arya, and Joffrey.

Risk: Low

Reward: Gain a more Friendly reputation with Joffrey, OK with the King, and ++ Arya.

A3 - Learn from Tyrion with Sansa and Myrcella.

Risk: Low

Reward: Study with Myrcella and Tyrion, and gain a more friendly reputation with them.

A4 - Go on the Hunt with your Uncle Ned and the King, and Jon.

Risk: Mid

Reward: Gain a Friendly reputation with the King, and +++ Uncle Ned.

A5 - Putting on a play for the Royals with Rob, Domeric, and…?

Risk: Low

Reward: Gain an Ok reputation with the whole royal party and a Friendly one with…?

Personal Rolls Sources:

S1 - Wikipedia

S2 - Steam Games (On Cooldown 1/2)

S3 - Paradox Wiki's (D30) (On Cooldown 1/1)

S4 - World Rolls List (D12)

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Information:

1 - Reputations as of Chapter 46 (In order of best to least.)

Sansa - BFF

Jon - BFF

Arya - Lifelong Friends

Ned - Lifelong Friends

Rob - Friendly (+)

Yara - Friendly

Domeric - Friendly

Joffrey - Friendly

Tyrion - Friendly

Myrcella - Friendly

Theon - Friendly (-)

Cat - Fine (-)

(Neutral → Fine → Ok → Good → Friendly → Friends → Close Friends → BFF’s)

(+) Means we’re one “+” with that person from it going up a rank.

(-) Means we’re one “-” with that person from it going down a rank.

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Write-In/Questions:

1 - What should our new Town and Vassal Clan be named?

If you want to add their history, then feel free, just keep in mind that they're a subordinate clan and so should be newer and less prestigious than the Lords of Long Lake or the Heart of the Gods town itself.

Ideally, they’re some kind of offshoot that grew into its own thing given enough time.

Examples:

Clan Redroot of Heartstone

Clan Soggs of Lakehall

Clan Longwaters of Barrowfell