House Among Chaotic Kingdoms

Votes for this Turn:

A1 - Joffrey - 58

A2 - Hunt - 0

A3 - Study - 10

A4 - Robert - 3

S1 - Wikipedia - 0

S2 - Steam - 0

S3 - Paradox - 33

S4 - World - 38

Ideas: So Far

(6R) A Sword for Joffrey, engraved with a Wolf's head - 24

(4R) A Stag Bracelet for Arya, and a Wolf Bracelet for Joffrey - 19

(6R) Hire a beekeeper for Long Lake - 13

(14R) Buy 7 Small statues of Cat’s Gods - 7

(4R) A Wolf & Stag pendant Joffrey and Arya - 4

(2R) Some Veil-style food for Ned and the King - 3

(20R) Buy a Horse for Jon - 3

(2R) A Stag Pendant Joffrey - 1

(2R) Some Crownlander food for the Royal Family - 1

(2R) Some Westerlands food for the Queen and Tyrion - 1

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Rolls for this Turn:

Personal: Elder Scrolls Wiki

Thanks to Lover's Insight, Tyrion Lannister is now 10% more combat effective and 10% more charismatic in regard to females of any species or age.

(He’ll even keep the boost if he ends up fighting a female White Walker at some point in the future.)

World: Warhammer Fantasy Wiki

Thanks to the Tinean Fellowship, there is now a small but growing organization of “Healers” in port cities across the world (including Kings Landing and White Harbor) who are secretly dedicated to worship and promotion of the Chaos God Nurgle.

(Apparently, RNGesus likes the grandfather more than the other three, since we’re now two for two on Chaos God rolls coming up Nurgle…)

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Story:

The last day in the yard felt strange in a way that took a while to name, because nothing about it was sad exactly, and yet everything in it had the shape of an ending.

The royal party would soon be leaving the North.

Uncle Ned would be going with them.

Arya would be going too.

You would be staying behind, and that alone made the whole morning feel a little off, like the castle had already started adjusting itself around an absence that hadn't happened yet.

Even so, the lesson itself started much as such lessons always did, with steel in hand, dirt underfoot, and Sir Rodrik wearing the look of a man who'd long since accepted that children with too much talent would keep ruining the pace of his life.

Joffrey was worse than before, which was saying something.

He'd always been frighteningly good with a sword, but somewhere in these last weeks he'd sharpened the rougher parts too, and now even the places where he'd once been merely excellent had started looking polished.

His footwork had changed most.

Nothing dramatic, nothing showy, just cleaner steps, tighter turns, better balance, and the sort of little improvements that made a dangerous fighter into an infuriating one.

Arya, for her part, was bright as sunrise and twice as lively, which only got worse once she started talking about the braavosi sword tutor Joffrey had convinced King Robert to bring in once the court got back south.

She was excited enough that the words nearly tripped over each other coming out of her.

She wasn't just leaving home.

She was leaving home for a place full of new chances, and one of those chances had a blade in hand and a city behind it that treated swordplay almost like an art.

That was the part she kept coming back to, a different style, a quicker style, a style built less around weight and power and more around speed, placement, timing, and being somewhere else by the time the answer came back at you.

It suited her so obviously that even thinking about it made sense.

Arya had never moved like the rest of you.

She'd taken to swordwork prodigiously from the start, but she'd done it sideways, almost, turning each lesson into something leaner and quicker than Sir Rodrik had probably intended.

You couldn't even be bitter about it.

Watching her move was too interesting for that, and there was something almost satisfying in seeing a path open in front of her that looked so clearly made for her feet.

Sir Rodrik himself was mostly hands off that day, which might've sounded insulting from another man, but from him it came off almost like a badge of honor.

He still corrected stances when he saw something sloppy.

He still barked at Rob when Rob got impatient, and at you when you tried to muscle through a problem that would've been better solved with timing.

But he admitted plainly enough that Joffrey had passed beyond anything he could really teach in a direct sense, and that the rest of you were getting close enough that there wasn't much left now beyond edge cases, habits, and experience.

The bones of it were there.

Years of bruises, drills, correction, repetition, and effort had finally become something solid.

That sat well in your chest, not pride exactly, though some of that too, but more the steady satisfaction of proof.

The work had gone somewhere.

It had turned into skill.

So the four of you sparred, Joffrey won more than anyone, Arya still moved like trouble with a pulse and Rob fought like he always did, stubborn and forceful and increasingly good at making that look like a deliberate style rather than a fortunate accident.

You held your own well enough, especially once the bouts turned rougher and more physical.

It was after that, with everyone flushed and breathing hard and the lesson clearly winding toward its end, that Omek appeared at the edge of the yard carrying a wrapped bundle.

You'd been waiting for that.

After thanking him, you crossed to Joffrey and handed the bundle over as your parting gift.

Inside was a braavosi-style blade, though made larger and heavier to suit his hand and build, and worked at the pommel with a wolf motif so that, wherever else he went, some part of Winterfell would still be with him.

You'd had it commissioned not long after he first started talking about bringing a braavosi tutor south for himself and Arya, because once that plan became real the answer had seemed obvious.

If he was going to learn the style properly, then he ought to have the right sort of steel for it.

It wasn't the kind of gift Joffrey couldn't have gotten for himself, and that was never really the point.

He understood that.

You could tell he understood it from the way he held the sword, testing the balance instead of rushing to praise the workmanship like that was the important part.

When he did thank you, he did it seriously, and with the sort of warmth that only sounded stronger for how controlled it was.

He said he'd cherish his time in Winterfell, and that he was glad to have something worthy of remembering it by.

That got Arya grinning like she'd been handed the thing herself, and honestly she was nearly as pleased as he was.

Joffrey had his new blade.

Arya had her bright new future waiting on the road ahead.

Sir Rodrik had the faintly tired look of a man watching students become something he couldn't quite call children anymore.

And you were left standing there with the odd knowledge that the yard would be quieter soon, emptier too, and that some chapter of your life had closed.

That was the way of things, maybe.

One day you were all together in the dirt, trading blows and insults and advice.

The next, half the world had started moving south.

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The yard broke apart by slow degrees after that, with Arya bright as summer and Prince Joffrey still smiling in that easy, steady way of his while the two of them went off to make their last preparations before the royal party finally left Winterfell behind.

You were still standing there with that strange hollow feeling of an ending settling into your chest when a servant came to say that Uncle Ned wanted you in his solar at once.

That was enough to put a weight in your stomach.

Men like Uncle Ned did not call children into their solar for light reasons, and when you stepped inside and found him already waiting with a troubled look on his face, it only made the feeling worse.

He did not waste time.

With him going south, Aunt Catelyn had decided her patience for his problems had run out, and among those problems she counted both you and Jon.

Rob would be ruling in Uncle Ned’s absence, learning what it meant to hold Winterfell in truth, and Aunt Catelyn had insisted that he needed room to do it without distractions or divided authority.

So, when the royal party left, you were to leave as well.

Not for some visit, and not for some short errand, but for Long Lake.

A bit early or not, it was time for you to go home and begin growing into the lord you were meant to become.

You did ask if you might stay a little longer.

Winterfell still felt more like home than the place waiting for you by right, and the idea of leaving it now felt abrupt in a way that made your thoughts stumble over themselves.

But Uncle Ned only shook his head and told you what you already knew.

With him gone, Aunt Catelyn would hold the greatest authority in Winterfell, whatever Rob’s place in its daily rule might be, and if she said you were to go, then you were going.

Then he asked you to think of Jon.

That settled it faster than anything else could have.

Whatever argument you might have made for yourself, there was none to make for him.

Without Uncle Ned in Winterfell, Jon would have nowhere at all, and both of you knew it.

So you agreed.

For your cousin, for your friend, and for one of the few people in Winterfell who had always made the place feel warmer, you agreed to return to Long Lake in a few days and to take Jon with you.

When you stepped back into the corridor, the castle felt slightly wrong around you, as though something had shifted while you were inside and only you had noticed it.

That was when you passed Jon on his way in, looking worried enough that he clearly knew some bad turn had come even if he did not know its shape yet.

Before he could ask, you told him that whatever Uncle Ned was about to say, and whatever happened after, he would always have a place by your side.

That seemed to steady him at once, not fully, but enough.

He nodded, quiet and serious as ever, and went on into the solar while you kept walking, already feeling how close the end of this life had suddenly become.

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It was a few days later when the roads finally split your world in two.

To the south went the royal party in all its noise and color, with banners snapping, wheels groaning, horses stamping, and enough noble voices in the air to make the whole thing feel unreal despite how long you'd known it was coming.

With them went Uncle Ned, Aunt Catelyn's daughters, Prince Joffrey, and half the future all at once, and it felt strange watching so much of Winterfell ride away in one long shining column while the yard, the halls, and even the godswood seemed to hold their breath around it.

Arya looked bright as a torch right until the very last of it, eager for the south, eager for her new lessons, eager for all the things waiting there, and that at least made the parting easier to bear.

Joffrey caught your eye before the road bent away, raised the new blade in salute, and smiled like this wasn't an ending so much as one more road opening.

Then your own party turned north.

It was a much smaller thing, just you, Jon, Berenice, Omek, a handful of guards and servants, packhorses burdened with all the things a hall would need from its lord, and the long road waiting ahead beneath a summer sky that somehow still felt colder than it should have.

Jon rode close enough that the silence between you never turned heavy, which was a gift in itself, because there was too much to think on already, and none of it sat still for very long once your mind got hold of it.

Winterfell was behind you now, not lost, not gone, but behind, and ahead lay Long Lake, Heartsgrove Castle, Heart of the Gods Town, the scattered villages, the taxes, the old resentments, the old duties, and the shape of a life that had been yours since birth without ever quite feeling real until now.

For the first time in seven years you weren't riding toward a lesson, a hunt, or some little turn in castle life, but toward your own seat, your own people, and the hard fact that in only a little while all of it would stop being practice.

That should've felt frightening, and some of it did, but not all of it.

Somewhere ahead was the first home you'd ever known, and even with so much changed, even with years and distance laid over everything, the thought of seeing Long Lake again put something steadier in your chest than fear ever could.

Jon was beside you.

Janus was overhead, or near enough as made no difference.

Jinx kept to the roadside with that quiet, watchful gait of hers, and the north stretched on in front of you like it had been waiting the whole time.

So you rode on, leaving one life behind and heading toward the next, with the road under your horse, the wind in your face, and home at last somewhere up ahead.

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Skills:

Combat:

(9) Westerosi CQC - 80/100 (+35) (Talented In North)

(7) Westerosi Swordsmanship - 20/100 (+25) ←

(10) Northern Archery - 40/200 (+35) (Skilled)

(7) Northern Equestrianism - 20/100 (+30) (Knack) ←

(10) Heavy Armour - 55/200 (+50) (Prodigious)

Diplomacy:

(9) Interpersonal Communication - 25/100 (+15) (Skilled)

(4) Public Speaking - 20/100 (+5) (Skilled)

(11) Management - 200/300 (+30) (Prodigious)

(5) Stewardship - 24/100 (+7) (Knack)

(5) Northern Law - 4/100 (+7) (Knack) ←

(4) Westerosi Law - 94/100 (+7) (Knack)

Language:

(8) Common Speaking - 80/100 (+15) (Knack)

(8) Old Tongue Speaking - 85/100 (+15) (Knack)

(7) Valyrian Speaking - 25/100 (+15) (Knack)

(6) Common Reading - 95/100 (+10)

(4) Westerosi Runes - 40/100 (+10)

(6) Valyrian Reading - 30/100 (+10)

Scholarly: (Knack in North)

(7) Math(s) - 75/100 (+10)

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

(9) Northern History - 45/100 (+15) (Knack)

(6) Westerosi History - 75/100 (+10)

(7) Northern Peoples - 30/100 (+10)

(5) Westerosi Peoples - 55/100 (+10)

Leisure: (Knack in North)

(8) Northern Hunting - 75/100 (+10)

(5) Fishing - 15/100 (+7)

(4) Swimming - 50/100 (+7)

(2) Seacraft - 70/100 (+7)

(4) Climbing - 80/100 (+7) (Skilled In North)

(4) Acting (Lying Convincingly) - 3/100 (+3) ←

(10) Herbology - 60/200 (+30) (Prodigious)

(1) Warging - 15/100 (+15) (Gifted)

War:

(7) Strategy - 100/100 (+25) (Prodigious)

(2) Castrametation - 10/100 (+0)

(2) Poliorcetics - 10/100 (+0)

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

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

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Earning: 5

Spending: 0

Banked: 39

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Rolls for Next Turn:

T4 = Objects/Effect at Home

L6 = Moderately Convenient

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Voting:

Main Actions:

A1 - Put on a demonstration of skill at Arms with Jon to prove it’s not boys returning, but men.

Reputation: Small Boost with everyone at Heartsgrove.

A2 - Invite Sir Wylis on a hunt with yourself and Jon to get to know him again.

Reputation: Large Boost with Sir Wylis

A3 - Order a small feast to celebrate your return. (-10 Resources)

Reputation: Moderate boost with everyone at Heartsgrove.

A4 - Sail up and down the Lake with the Stark banner flying, to announce your return.

Reputation: Tiny Boost with Everyone on Long Lake.

Personal Rolls Sources:

S1 - Wikipedia

S2 - Steam Games (On Cooldown 2/2)

S3 - Paradox Wiki's (D30)

S4 - World Rolls List (D12) (On Cooldown 1/1)

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Information:

1 - Reputations as of Chapter 51 (In order of best to least.)

Sansa - BFF

Jon - BFF

Arya - BFF

Ned - Lifelong Friends

Joffrey - Lifelong Friends (-)

Yara - Friends (+)

Rob - Friends

Bobby B. - Friends

Domeric - Friends (-)

Tyrion - Friendly

Myrcella - Friendly

Theon - Friendly (-)

Tommen - Ok (+)

Cersei - Ok (-)

Cat - Distaste

(Fine → Ok → Good → Friendly → Friends → Close Friends → Lifelong 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 are some actions we should take in Long Lake? (Discussion, not Vote.)

Now that we're out of the Preparation Phase, I’d like to do my best to add some voter-generated (or at least inspired) actions/tasks to the voting options…

But please keep in mind that 1 turn represents 1 month, and the War is likely to kick off in 6-18 months, so let's not start anything huge just for it to end half finished.

Also, actions aren't meant to be our normal activities, but the things we do in addition to normal activities. (So anything that boils down to “be Lord of Long Lake” isn’t it either.)