| Story of the Baratheons | |
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| Topic Started: Feb 29 2008, 08:23 PM (135 Views) | |
| Verathoc | Feb 29 2008, 08:23 PM Post #1 |
Verathoc the Lowly
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Verathoc I Verathoc threw the covers off his body and rose from the bed. His newlywed laid by his side, sleeping softly, her chest raising and falling in a hypnotic rhythm. He ran a hand across her cheek softly, wiping clear an invisible tear that he knew had fallen down her cheek much of the previous afternoon. She was young, his wife, and was already homesick, away from her father a mere four days. A lady of noble birth, the youngest daughter to the heir of Pinkmaiden, a daughter that would be used to secure an alliance, broker a deal, except for one fact. She had married for love. Love, an unknown emotion in the nobles across Westeros. He had met her at a tourney at Harrenhal, sure a cliqued meeting, but like she cared. Verathoc was her everything, enough to cause her to cross, her father, and marry the middle son of a middle son. A nobody. She had married him – Lady Vanessa Piper. Her father disowned her at the marriage, and tears were spilt. At least no blood was. Verathoc rose from the bed and left through the main door to the fresh, warm, night air. The fact that the bedroom led right outside was a stinging sign of the house that Verathoc afforded his new wife. His wife had brought him power; there was no doubt of that. Not much power, granted, but with her connections he had been able to become an adviser to Ser Arlec Baratheon of Storm’s End, a fellow second son to a second son. Tonight was his first and last night with his wife, for now. The land was changing, armies were being called and assembled from the northern reaches of Queenscrown to the southern lands of Dorne. And the aging Lord of Storm’s End would not be left out. He had drafted all the men within his reach, including Verathoc, into the Lord’s Army, and from there, Verathoc had ended up with Arlec. Tomorrow he marched with Arlec, nephew to the Lord of Storm’s End, towards King’s Landing, towards the future of the Baratheons. The men of Westeros were moving. |
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| Verathoc | Mar 17 2008, 02:15 AM Post #2 |
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Verathoc the Lowly
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Verathoc II Verathoc marched with Storm’s Fist, and Verathoc marched with pride. Been conscripted under Ser Arlec Baratheon was the best thing that had ever happened to him, save for meeting his wife. Arlec had brought both himself and his men glory and fame across the lands of the Baratheons. They moved as a small force, and had taken all the great settlements that now fell under the ownership of Storm’s End. Bronze Gate, Sharp Point, even King’s Landing, Verathoc had been there, serving under Arlec, as they conquered them all. He’d been taken under Arlec’s wing, for lack of a better phrase – for both his high – profile marriage and outspoken views had quickly drawn the attention of the fifth-in-line to the Baratheon’s great seat. He would have been his squire, if naught but for his age, so he was branded “companion” instead, and Verathoc knew that must been a knighthood was not far off. Stand out in one more battle, design one foolproof plan to take a city, and Arlec would lay his sword out across Verathoc’s neck. But instead Verathoc had incurred wrath – for he could not keep his cursed mouth shut. Lord Daulden marched upon Lord Harroway’s Town, a bustling town that Storm’s Fist had taken themselves under a week ago. He had been sure this would be the first great test for Storm’s Fist, one which they would pass with flying colours. But Arlec had marched the armies further south, mentioning not a thing of the assault upon Harroway. And so, after an hour of marching, by Arlec’s side, further away from the conflict, Verathoc had spoken up. “Ser, what the hell are we doing?” He hurried his pace to get in front of his liege. “The same thing we have for the past month my good friend.” Arlec placed a hand on Verathoc’s shoulder and kept walking, pushing Verathoc back into the march. “We are marching. Always marching, pushing forward. Towards Silverhill in fact.” “But what about Lord Harroway’s Town?” “What of it?” “The attack!” Verathoc shook Arlec off him. “Our hard earned town is about to fall.” “What? Harroway’s Town is under attack?” “You didn’t know?” Verathoc’s face contorted. “Oh be quiet Verathoc, of course I know what’s going on.” Arlec grinned and continued walking. “We could march north. Bring the force of Storm’s Fist. All the power and glory, you know?” “Oh yes I know.” Arlec’s grin widened. “Does sound good, doesn’t it?” “Then we turn north?” “No, Verathoc.” Arlec’s grin disappeared. “I’ve sent one hundred men north. They will hold of Lord Daulden for as long as they can, then I’m afraid the town will belong to the Northmen.” “Why the hell are you doing that?” Verathoc stamped his foot down. “Why just let it fall?” “Verathoc, we are both new to war, yes?” “Yes.” “And we both have much to learn.” Arlec sighed. “It may be a bad decision, but this empire can’t afford to spend its time, money and gold in defending one single town. There is a whole empire out there Verathoc, and my father means to have it all, not just one small town.” “I don’t want us to be known as defeat Ser.” Verathoc was breathing heavily. “Storm’s Fist has never lost a battle.” “Never losing a battle is a good way to lose a war.” Arlec stated. “We must push forward, and I have made my decision Verathoc, and you will abide by it.” Verathoc stopped marching. Arlec got two or three steps ahead of him, and then Verathoc spoke. “Let me lead the men Ser.” Verathoc nodded to himself. “I will march north, organise the defenders, and hold off Daulden. I can do it Ser. I will fight bravely.” “Yes, you will fight very bravely, and die very quickly.” Arlec continued to walk, talking over his shoulder. “I want you by my side Verathoc, you have a much bigger role to play in the coming war than to die at the front lines of a minor dispute.” Verathoc kept still, his mind racing over the words of his liege. Arlec continued to move in front of him, getting further and further away. The other men of Storm’s Fist started to past Verathoc too, but still he stood still. His mind wandered to his wife, the young lady of Tully lands. He missed her, more than he ever though he would, and more so right in that moment than he ever had the march before. After Silverhill, he promised himself. He would return to Storm’s End, and rejoin his wife. He promised himself something else too. Lord Harroway’s Town would fall to his sword once again before this war was out. Edited by Verathoc, Mar 17 2008, 02:19 AM.
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| Verathoc | Apr 6 2008, 04:12 AM Post #3 |
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Verathoc the Lowly
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"And arise, Ser Verathoc." Verathoc felt the sword leave his shoulder and he opened his eyes, soaking in the new feeling of worth and accomplishment. Arlec offered him a hand, and Verathoc grasped it, raising back to his feet. "You've earnt it Ser." Arlec grinned. "Many times over you've earnt it. I'm just sorry that it took me so long to grant you it. I am honoured to call you brother." "The honor is mine." The ceremony was quite low key, at a small inn, the Inn of the Crossroads, where Arlec and Verathoc were destined spilt, for the first time since the beginning of the war. Arlec was headed back south, to Storm's End, to visit his father, and learn the truth of the rumours of his supposed sickness. Now was not the time for a new Lord of Storm's End to be rising. Verathoc longed to go south also, to see his father and his wife, but fate moved him west, then north. First he was to travel to Casterly Rock, a newly annointed knight, to see the end of the grand joust, meet up with the Lord Acheron, so that they would move towards the much awaited Grand Council, to see what the fate of these lands would become. He looked forward to meeting the great Lord Acheron, but not that which going to the joust would bring. Seeing his brother. Already word had reached him of Ser Brine's unhorsing of Josaiah, and adding the ego of Brine was never a reason for joy. His brother would be proud of Verathoc's knighthood, to be sure, but only for his own ends. Brine wished for the family to raise its standing, and was doing everything in his power to do so. "I will give your love to your wife." Arlec's voice snapped Verathoc back to the Inn. "Thankyou friend" Verathoc nodded. "I will see you again soon." |
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