Votes for this Turn:
A1 - Combat - 5
A2 - Leisure - 14
A3 - Scholarly - 1
A4 - Diplomacy - 1
A5 - Language - 17
A6 - Communications - 0
S1 - Wikipedia - 0
S2 - Steam - 16
S3 - Paradox - 4
S4 - World - 18
Name:
Yeshua Grantham (Ex-Pirate) - 10
Rolls for this Turn:
Personal: Forgotten Realms Wiki
Thanks to the Springlords, one of the monasteries in Heart of the Gods town is now dedicated to the Springlords, who are a sect of Old Gods worshipers who act as healers across the North.
Rumors swirl about how they manage to be more effective than the wise Maesters so often, yet the order keeps its silence on the matter.
Only the King in the North is privy to their use of healing Magics, and that part of these magics forces them to forgo all forms of combat.
However, as when Torrhen Stark lost his title of King, the Springlords stopped informing the next heir of their secrets, and the information was soon lost.
They did this as they did not wish to be forced to share their secrets with the Citadel by the Targaryens.
However, the deepest of their secrets, something they dare not reveal to any but the most trusted, is their ability to revive the dead, so long as the individual is a true worshiper of the old gods and has a fully intact corpse.
The few times this information has leaked in past millennia have resulted in the near extinction of their order each time, so these days they keep it as the most sacred of secrets.’
However, should one of the Springlords, such as the one in Winterfell, witness a child dying, their oaths force them to revive the child if at all possible without releasing the secret.
(This protection will serve as a guarantee against death for the Stark Household’s kids while in Winterfell, and will ensure that any crippling injuries that may or may not occur within Winterfell in the future will be fully healed.)
World: Runescape Wiki
Thanks to the Malevolent Armour, Melisandre of Asshai will have a set of Valyrian steel armor designed to make the wearer look like a demon, literally pop out at her from the fire in front of several witnesses.
On top of further legitimizing her in the political hierarchy of the Red Priests, she will determine it is her duty to give this armor to Azor Ahai… just as soon as she determines who it is.
Story:
Arya’s temper tantrum started over a glove, which was honestly about right for her, because Silco had chewed it half to death, refused to come when called, and then made off with the rest like he’d won something grand instead of merely behaving like a badly raised nuisance.
Arya had declared this proof that he was clever, and when someone pointed out that it was actually proof he needed discipline, she took that as a personal attack on both of them and set about proving just how loudly a five-year-old could object when she thought the world was being unfair.
By the time you found her, she was red-faced, teary, and so angry she could barely keep hold of one thought long enough to finish shouting it, while Silco milled around nearby with his tail up and that aggravating self-satisfaction only young pets ever seem able to manage.
Arya kept saying he wasn’t bad, everyone else was mean, and if she liked she would simply take him away and no one would ever tell either of them what to do again, which was not much of a plan but was, to her mind, clearly good enough.
Yara walked in halfway through it, took one look at Arya, one look at Silco, one look at the ruined glove, and seemed to understand the whole thing at once.
She did not try to soothe Arya, did not crouch down gently, and did not ask what was wrong in some careful voice either, which was probably wise because by then Arya would’ve snapped at anybody trying to be tender with her.
Yara just told her to stop making that dreadful noise and either cry properly or speak properly, because nobody could understand a word when she insisted on doing both at once.
Arya drew breath to yell at her, but Yara cut straight across it and said fine, go on then, but if she was going to howl like that she ought to do it in the yard where everybody could appreciate the effort.
That stopped Arya for a second, mostly because she had not expected resistance of that sort.
Yara took the pause and kept going, saying Silco was a fool because he was a pup, and Arya was being a fool because she thought loving him was the same thing as teaching him anything.
Arya hated that immediately, which did not seem to trouble Yara in the slightest.
Then Yara told her to come on, bring the wolf if she meant to keep him, and said Old Nan would have some tale about badly trained beasts and the children foolish enough to trust them.
Arya was still angry enough to sniff at this, but she went.
That was the thing with Arya.
She could be crying, furious, and wholly unreasonable, but offer her a story in the right tone and she would still follow after it.
You went too, because there was no sense letting Yara and Arya disappear into Winterfell together without witnesses, and Silco came because nobody had asked his opinion and he never needed asking anyway.
Old Nan barely looked surprised when the lot of you arrived, which was one of her more useful qualities.
She had seen enough children in enough moods that very little seemed to impress her anymore.
Arya climbed in close at once, still prickly, blotchy, and glaring at the world as though the world had started it.
Yara stayed nearby with her arms folded, looking like somebody who had no intention of pretending this was sweeter than it was, though she had brought Arya there in the first place and that counted for something.
When Old Nan heard what the fuss was about, she looked Silco over for a good while and said he had the eyes of a thief and the manners of a goat.
Arya immediately announced that he was a wolf, not a goat.
Old Nan said a wolf that wouldn’t come when called was all very fine until the day somebody needed him to, and that shut Arya up far better than any scolding had managed.
Then Old Nan started her story.
She said that years and years ago there’d been a young lord up in the hills, in a place where winter was a bit hard and wildlings sometimes came over lean, cold, and mean enough to prove it.
The boy had a wolfhound pup, with great paws on it and more spirit than sense, and every old man in his hall told him the same thing over and over, with: train it young, train it now, train it before you need it.
A hound meant for winter work had to learn: come, stay, heel, quiet, bite, and leave off when called.
But the boy had no patience for dull work while life was easy.
So when the hound stole meat, he laughed.
When it chased chickens, he laughed.
When it snapped at boots, ignored commands, and came only when it pleased, he called that spirit and said spirit was better than obedience.
The old men told him spirit was worth nothing if it could not be guided, but the boy did not listen because nothing bad had happened yet, and that is enough to make fools of plenty of people.
Then one winter some wildlings came down through the hills, not enough for songs and not enough for a proper war, but enough to burn a stead, steal what they could carry, and kill whoever got in the way.
The boy rode out with his men because boys always think bravery and preparedness are the same thing until they find out otherwise.
He caught sight of one of the raiders slipping through the trees and loosed his hound with a shout.
Only the beast had never really learned the work.
It ran gladly enough, but not after the man.
It went after the first thing that moved, vanished into the snow, and left the wildling free to double back and put an axe in one of the boy’s sworn men.
Old Nan did not hurry through that part.
The holdfast held, the wildlings were driven off, and the boy lived, but one good man died in the snow because the hound had never been taught what to do when it mattered.
When the beast came slinking home later with frost on its muzzle and no notion at all of what it had done wrong, the boy finally understood.
After that he trained it every day, through: rain, mud, cold dawns, foul tempers, and every other part of the work he had thought he could put off.
He had learned too late that you did not start teaching obedience only after trouble had already found you.
Then Old Nan gave the lesson plain, because she was Old Nan and saw no reason to leave the point buried where children could miss it.
You stacked wood before winter.
You sharpened steel before raiders.
You trained beasts before trusting your life to them.
And, she added, children ought to be taught before they became fools too big to beat sense into, which Arya ignored on principle because it was clearly aimed at her.
The rest of it went in, though, and you could see it.
Yara saw it too.
She nudged Arya’s boot with her own and said loving a thing didn’t mean letting it stay stupid.
Arya frowned at that and looked down at Silco, who had by then started chewing on one of Old Nan’s stool legs, which did rather make the case for her.
That seemed to settle it.
Arya scooped him up and announced that she was going to train him properly from now on.
No one laughed, because that would’ve been a mistake.
Arya looked entirely ready to take laughter as treason, and Yara had too much sense to ruin a useful mood.
She only said that was fine, but training meant the boring parts too, not only shouting bite at things she disliked.
Arya said yes in the tone of somebody agreeing before the details could catch up with her.
Yara said she’d be checking.
Arya narrowed her eyes at that.
Yara, unsurprisingly, did not care.
So it ended with Arya no longer crying and now marching off with a wolf under one arm and a plan in her head, which was probably the best outcome anyone was getting from the afternoon.
Yara went with her because she liked Arya well enough to bother and was not soft enough to let her make a little fool of herself without comment.
You followed because somebody had to.
Behind you, Old Nan chuckled under her breath in that dry old way of hers, like none of this was new and every child who’d ever lived had needed the same lesson told through some beast or other.
Skills:
Combat:
(2) Westerosi CQC - 40/100 (+11)
(2) Westerosi Swordsmanship - 35/100 (+9)
(3) Northern Archery - 30/100 (+12) (Knack)
(2) Northern Equestrianism - 17/100 (+12) (Knack)
(1) Heavy Armour - 54/100 (+12) (Skilled)
Diplomacy:
(2) Interpersonal Communication - 70/100 (+10)
(1) Public Speaking - 35/100 (+0)
(2) Management - 75/100 (+25) (Prodigious)
(1) Stewardship - 76/100 (+3) (Knack)
(1) Northern Law - 67/100 (+3) (Knack)
(1) Westerosi Law - 57/100 (+3) (Knack)
Language:
(2) Common Speaking - 80/100 (+25)
(2) Old Tongue Speaking - 95/100 (+25)
(1) Valyrian Speaking - 82/100 (+12)
(2) Common Reading - 41/100 (+12)
(1) Westerosi Runes - 33/100 (+3)
(1) Valyrian Reading - 19/100 (+12)
Scholarly: (+1)
(2) Math(s) - 19/100 (+10)
(2) Accounts - 22/100 (+10)
(3) Northern History - 39/100 (+25) (Knack)
(1) Westerosi History - 89/100 (+10)
(2) Northern Peoples - 70/100 (+25)
(1) Westerosi Peoples - 89/100 (+10)
Leisure:
(2) Northern Hunting - 28/100 (+10)
(1) Fishing - 45/100 (+5)
(1) Swimming - 60/100 (+5)
(1) Sailing - 10/100 (+0)
(1) Acting - 10/100 (+0)
Rolls for Next Turn:
T6 = Personal Power/Skill
L5 = Mildly convenient
Voting:
Main Actions: (+ = Low, ++ = Mid, +++ = High)
A1 - Train with Jon, and sometimes Rob and Theon in the Yard. (Combat Focus)
(Reputation: ++ Jon + Theon, + Rob)
A2 - Go on Hunts With Jon and Sansa. (Equestrianism + Leisure Focus)
(Reputation: ++ Jon, ++ Sansa, - Cat)
A3 - Keep up your studies with your cousin, Sansa, and Maester Lewin. (Scholarly Focus)
(Reputation: ++ Sansa, + Cat)
A4 - Act as your Uncle Ned’s page with Rob and Theon. (Diplomacy Focus)
(Reputation: ++ Theon, + Ned, - Rob)
A5 - Spend your time teaching/watching little Arya and your Wolves with Yara. (Language Focus)
(Reputation: + Yara, + Jon, + Sansa, + Cat, + Ned, + Rob)
A6 - Follow Rob until he shares his Friends and Activities with you. (Communications Focus)
(Reputation: + Cat, + Ned, - Rob)
Personal Rolls Sources:
S1 - Wikipedia (On Cooldown 2/2)
S2 - Steam Games
S3 - Paradox Wiki's (D30)
S4 - World Rolls List (D12) (On Cooldown 1/1)
Information:
1 - I want to thank Starman25 on QQ.
For the idea of having one of these chapters be a scene of Old Nann telling Northern Stories.
In this case, it’s a modified version of “The Soldier and His Horse” from Æsop's Fables, changed to be a wolf instead of a horse, and to include northern references like Wildlings.
Write-In/Questions:
1 - In chapter 15, Heart of the Gods gained An Academy for training locals in basic academic skills such as Reading, Math/Accounting, and Northern History.
This academy needs a name, do you have any suggestions?
(If no one has any ideas, I'm calling it Hogwarts.)