The Iron Throne: South

[Lumine]

The South:

Overview:

In apparent peace during the rule of Robert Baratheon, the South is quickly moving towards all-out war as the Lannisters and the Tullys fight across the Riverlands and the Lords of Westeros prepare to take sides in the conflict to come. With the Throne vacant and key Houses like the Greyjoys, the Tyrells, the Martells and the Arryns yet to take sides, it seems this is where the destiny of Westeros might actually be decided.

Currently held by: Baratheon Dynasty, quickly deteriorating.
Direct Players: Doran Martell, Walder Frey, Balon Greyjoy, Olenna Redwyne, Tywin Lannister, Renly Baratheon, Edmure Tully, Stannis Baratheon.

[Lumine]

THEON:

The news posed quite the dilemma to him.

Upon learning that Lord Stark had called his banners – and to his shock, declared for Renly – Theon was fast in supporting Robb and offering to ride with him, and after a thousand perils assembling the army and making it march across the Kingsroad he and Robb had bonded more and more as companions. Theon had found himself invested in Robb’s success, and helped him overcome the many challenges the vassal lords of the Starks had posed in the campaign. Not only because many disagreed with the idea of riding south to support Renly Baratheon with barely an explanation – leading to the army being much smaller than what it could have been -, but because few, if any, saw Robb suited for the task. Many of them wanted to lead, and many of them appeared competent to do so, as Umber, Glover and even Bolton appeared to remark at every turn.

And now, the news threatened to open a conflict he expected would not arise soon. His father had finally tired of the game of the other lords, and declared his independence for the second time as the Iron Islands rose for him again. And despite all, Lord Balon was still his father, and was risking even more than Robb by openly rebelling against any King in the Iron Throne. But what could he do? He doubted the stern Lord Stark would ever ally with his father, and Balon would probably never forgive Stark for his role in the Greyjoy Rebellion. He was riding with Robb to face danger and the war against the Lannisters across the Riverlands, and the thought of either staying to fight for the Starks or running away to defend the Iron Islands with the Ironborn kept him at the very edge, truly not knowing what to decide.

It was, however, a decent night to forget the problems ahead. After a march with no shortage of trouble the army had quickly crossed the Neck – leaving the reinforcements from Manderly host to reach them later – and into The Twins, the one way to cross into the Riverlands and march into war. The debate had been heated as to whether Lord Frey was in any way trustworthy, and Lords like Robett Glover warned that his role at the Trident proved that he wasn’t. Theon wondered what would Lady Catelyn have said and done considering her first hand experienced with the late Lord Frey, but with her absent and no one truly familiar with the Lord it had fallen to the ravens from ahead to intervene. Theon had noted Robb’s disappointment with Lord Stark’s letter, commanding him to marry one of the Frey girls to cross the bridge and march against the Lannisters. Theon had counselled Robb to argue the terms with his father, but his friend would have none of it. Robb had matured greatly over the past weeks, and the Acting Lord of Winterfell would hear nothing of disobeying his father.

And so they were at The Twins, enjoying the ale and the music as Robb and Lady Arwyn Frey – who, Theon was forced to admit, wasn’t a half-bad bride – swore their vows and the Freys and Starks raised their cups amidst cheers. It was then that Lord Frey stood up and called for the bedding to take place:

-A sword needs a sheath…- And the Lords laughed at his jape – And a wedding needs a bedding! –
-By all means, Lord Frey. – Robb had replied, his men cheering and laughing –

Sure enough, soon Theon and many of Robb’s friends were carrying the bride towards the room in one of the towers as countless Frey ladies – and the Mormonts – took Robb in the same direction. Theon joined the Northern in their jokes at Arwyn’s expense, but resisted the temptation of getting too familiar with the bride as some used to do during bedding ceremonies. They reached the room soon enough, and as the door closed behind Robb and Arwyn – who looked either excited or nervous, Theon couldn’t tell – men and women alike continued to laugh and cheer. Already feeling drunk, Theon walked down the stairs with difficulty and stopped short of the great hall, where many of the Northern Lords and the Freys were drinking and talking. Most of the important lords and their sons were there, enjoying themselves, only a handful guarding the army outside.

Theon almost walked into the hall before stopping short, something in the distance bothering him. It was a familiar sound, but disoriented as he was due to drinking so much ale he couldn’t quite make it out, even as Lord Frey rose from his chair to raise a toast to Robb and the Northerners. And then it hit him. It was Grey Wind. Grey Wind was howling almost in despair, as if… as if he could tell what was about to happen. Theon bolted back the moment he saw the musicians and the Frey kinsmen draw out their daggers and swords as dozens of guards stormed the Great Hall, and he barely avoided the swing of a Frey guard against him. Theon fell to the floor and reacted quickly, kicking his enemy in the knee and hitting the guard until he seized his dagger to plunge it into his chest. He rose from the corpse having taken his sword, and the sight almost froze him in fear.

-Capture them all, but if you can’t, kill them! – Walder Frey was shouting, cup in hand and a satisfied grin on his face –

Rickard Karstark and the Greatjon were fighting shoulder to shoulder keeping the Freys at bay, both injured with a couple of arrows and with their faces blooded. Many of the Lords were in the ground, injured, disarmed, or being carried away from the room kicking and screaming. It was only when Maege Mormont fell to the floor with a dozen arrows piercing her chest and turning her into a mangled corpse than it hit Theon. Robb! I need to warn Robb! Theon ran away from the Great Hall and bypassed a couple of nearby guards, running across the stairs as fast as he could. His mind was clouded and his heart pounded wildly, but Theon could not think of anything but to save his friend. In the corridor that led to Robb’s room his personal guard was still fighting, most of them already dead. Hallis Mollen and two of the Karstark boys were already prisoners of the Freys with daggers held to his throats, and Robin Flint and Owen Norrey were already in the ground with pools of blood pouring out of their bodies.

-Robb! Robb! –

Unable to save the Karstarks and Hal Mollen Theon raced across the corridor and killed a guard before he could kill Ser Donnel Locke, one of the few remaining Stark knights. Ser Donnel and Theon continued to run and block the blows from the Freys, finishing a few guards as they were nearby the door that led to Robb’s room. Theon felt a sharp, violent pain on his shoulder as an arrow pierced his shoulder, and rapidly moving to one side he barely saved himself as Ser Donnel fell with an arrow having gone through his neck. Clumsly and bleeding profusely, Theon hit and kicked at the door, begging to the Drowned God for Robb to open the door.

-Robb! You need to get out! It’s a trap, Lord Frey has betrayed us! –

But nothing happened. Before Theon could react, the Frey guards reached him and one hit him with a heavy object on his head. He lost consciousness almost immediately, the final sight before going to sleep being that of the grim corridor and Ser Donnel Locke, bleeding to death.

[Lumine]

To the Lords of Westeros:

"We landed on the western coast of the Riverlands a fortnight ago, hired as sellswords by Lord Walder Frey. With his death and that of his heirs our contract is void, and being stranded in Westeros we offer our service to the highest bidder, more than 2,300 sellswords in our joint companies."

Signed by Gylo Rhegan of the Long Lances, and Cao Mai of the Company of the Crescent Moon.

[Lumine]

To Edric Baratheon, First of His Name, Rightful King of the Andals and the First Men:

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