GOT/ASOIAF: A Game Of Ice And Fire - Chapter 16
His arms were thin but muscled and he had kept his head shaved ever since his golden hair started going bald, but he grew out bushy golden side-whiskers.
He also had pale green eyes flecked with gold, befitting of a true Lannister.
His steel plate armor was enameled in deep crimson and highlighted with gold, and it’s rondels were golden sunburst.
Tywin’s heavy cloth-of-gold greatcloak was clasped with gold miniature lionesses, and his greathelm was decorated with a roaring lion with ruby eyes, also owning a thick ermine cloak.
Tywin’s Castle-forged steel longsword had a gold pommel.
His personal charger was a stallion with its own gilded armor.
The destrier had a blanket with enameled crimson scales and gilded crinet and chamfron, as well as crimson silk bardings decorated with the lion of the Lannisters.
{TYWIN LANNISTER, THE GREAT LION OF THE ROCK.}
LV: 30
RACE: ANDAL
ALLEGIANCE: HOUSE LANNISTER
PWR: 27
END: 28
MOB: 26
INT: 35
STL: 18
{Tywin Lannister is Lord of Casterly Rock, Shield of Lannisport, and Warden of the West. The head of House Lannister, Tywin is one of the most powerful lords in Westeros, and he is known as the father of Queen Cersei, Ser Jaime of the Kingsguard, and Tyrion.
Tywin is a calculating, intelligent, politically astute, ruthless, and controlling man. He dedicates his life and efforts towards maintaining the Lannisters’ prestige, and ensuring House Lannister is respected, or at least feared. Tywin is a proven battle commander who leads from the rear, and he has a powerful presence combined with an intimidating gaze. He is harsh with betrayal. According to his sister Genna, Tywin mistrusts laughter because of how his father, Lord Tytos, had been laughed at; Grand Maester Pycelle was amazed that his late wife Joanna was able to make him laugh three different times.
Though ruthless, Tywin Lannister is an able and shrewd ruler who brought great prosperity during his tenure as the King’s Hand. He is especially talented at the raising of funds, leading to a persistent jest that he must “shit gold”. Tywin is more respected than loved in the Westerlands, and he is remembered in King’s Landing for the Sack.
Tywin loves his elder children, Queen Cersei and Ser Jaime, but despises Tyrion. This is partly because Tyrion is a dwarf, but also Tywin blames his youngest son for causing his beloved wife Joanna’s death during his birth, as well as for shaming the family name with his frequent whoring. Tywin often relies on his brother, Ser Kevan Lannister. Ser Addam Marbrand is said to be Tywin’s most daring commander. Genna’s husband, Ser Emmon Frey, is terrified of his brother-in-law.
Tywin finds you interesting, if not a little terrifying, though strangely enough that makes him respect you as well.
He is concerned about the looming rebellion.}
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The glory of the Westerlands lay in its wealth, it wasn’t a particularly populous region or large, nor was it a great producer of food or other essentials, being reliant on trade with its neighbors for a lot of that.
Especially after winters became a yearly event in the Known World.
Topographically, it was somewhat unremarkable.
There were some rolling plains in the south, towards the reach and the western coast
facing the Sunset Sea, and a large forest near Crakehall.
But overwhelmingly this was a mountainous and hilly province, and beneath those hills lay gold and silver.
Not that this had always been one single region.
As the First men moved into this area a millennia ago, they founded small fiefdoms and areas of control.
Moving into the Age of Heroes, these morphed into petty kingdoms, with the strongest and richest winning out.
And the strongest and richest of all were the Lannisters, of course.
Ruling as Kings of the Rock from Casterly Rock.
This of course made the original Westernlanders First men, and they resisted the slow Andal invasion for a while, but the tide was
irreversible.
And eventually, as in so many other places, outright invasion gave way to intermarriage and treaties.
One by one, the noble families of the Westernlands left behind the Old Gods, adopting the faith of the seven and the customs of the Andals.
The Lannisters were no different.
When King Gerald III Lannister died without male heirs, his son-in-law, an Andal, was declared
the new King of the Rock.
And the Lannisters continued to grow, extending
their borders to the south, east and north.
They never overextended themselves, just kept pushing outwards, always aware of the ever-present threat of raids from the Ironborn.
The fact that it was House Lannister that gained the ascendancy in the region was of course, at
at least partly, due to the wealth and power they accumulated by dint of Casterly Rock being on top of hugely rich and productive seams of gold.
But it is worth pointing out that these seams of gold as well as silver and other precious metals
extend out across the whole mountainous region of the Westerlands.
Many of the other noble houses in the region were also very rich, and on occasion, this had made other houses feel empowered enough to challenge the hegemony of the Lannisters.
A few days north of Casterly Rock, one could find the most recent evidence of this.
The history of House Reyne and their Castle, Castamere, was perhaps not surprisingly quite similar to that of the Lannisters.
At first, during the Age of Heroes, this was a simple silver and gold mine, over time that needed protecting so the Reynes built fortifications above and around their mines, a stout curtain wall and some guard towers.
There were a dozen or more stories like this in the Westerlands.
But as in Casterly Rock, the Reynes extended to their home underground, disused mines were adapted and extended to become living areas, halls and even a massive ballroom.
And it was Castamere, once their pride, that became their horrific end.
From records Pycelle got for me, castamere today had its curtain wall crumbled and its strong towers broken into rubble.
Some remarked that it seemed quiet, peaceful almost.
But that was only because any ghosts that were there were buried underground in its magnificent halls.
When the Reynes and the Tarbecks rebelled against Lannister rule and Tywin Lannister crushed them ruthlessly, it was there that they made their last stand.
The defenders hold themselves up in these underground chambers, safe they thought, behind their heavy gates.
They begged for clemency, but received none.
And then, with even greater callousness, he diverted the waters from the nearby lake into those chambers, flooding them and killing everyone.
Or so he thought.
I wonder if I can make use of Castamere and Tarbeck Hall.
Regardless, although it was now peaceful, the lake was a deep blue and the ruined towers were a dramatic backdrop, making it not a place people liked to linger.
Indeed, it has been left like that to send a message: Rebellion against the Lannisters will be crushed mercilessly.
So, Tywin’s retinue headed westward, through the mountains and approaching the end of the River Road.
Although we won’t be making any stops, this route allowed us to see firsthand some more of the lives of the small folk here.
There were some farms in the valleys, but mostly in this area life was quite harsh.
Castamere and Tarbeck were not the only abandoned settlements.
For centuries people here have settled wherever the mining industry struck gold or silver, miners needed housing, feeding and entertaining, and soon a community built up with shops, ale houses and tradespeople.
But when a seam runs dry, the people move on.
There were countless ghost villages here that once were rich, but now lie empty.
Such a waste.
On the mountain sides around us, I saw numerous cave entrances.
I was told that the maze of tunnels and caverns beneath Casterly Rock extended all throughout
this region, and perhaps even beyond.
A world out of sight of those who prefer to remain over ground.
And the perfect region for me to explore during my time here.
Who knows, I might even find some interesting pathways around the kingdom.
The mountains also offered defensive security to the westerlands.
The River Road was guarded by Golden Tooth, but unlike the Bloody Gate on the Vale, which similarly guarded the Vale against invaders heading through mountains of the moon, this was not a gate physically barring access, the westerlands were too reliant on trade to do that, so a fortress set high atop a hill gazing down on the pass instead.
Pycelle informed me that although anyone could pass, an invading army would really need to
secure the Golden Tooth in order to ensure safe passage.
That or risk one of the many goat tracks that crisscrossed the hills and mountains here.
Again, gotta map those passages as soon as possible.
The Gold road running back to King’s Landing was guarded by Deep Den, seat of House Lydden.
And like the Golden Tooth, it was set up to allow the free flow of trade, but was defensively robust enough to hold the road if need be.
If one headed south, along the Ocean Road, keeping the Sunset Sea on their right and the mountains in the distance on their left as they journey, these mountains morphed into hills and then flatten down further into undulating lowlands.
In that direction lay Silverhill of House Serret and Clegane Hall of House Clegane.
But soon, as one approached Crakehall castle, even these hills disappear from view, behind the forest, the only real forest in the Westerlands.
And soon the names of settlements started to reflect the change in topography.
Instead of places like the Crag, Deep Den or Nunn’s Deep, there were settlements called Cornfield, Old Oak and Red Lake.
These feel (and were) more rural, more pastoral.
The people here farm and fish rather than mine and smelt, taking full advantage of the fertile soil they shared with the Reachman.
Which would suit my plans for solving the food shortage, that even the Reach was struggling with, just fine.
As for Crakehall, it wasn’t that much remarkable about its architecture, but its placement was interesting.
The forest expanded out behind it and in front of it was the Sunset Sea, extending endlessly into the distance.
Great for hunting grounds.
Not to mention how sturdy the people around here were, known for their natural talent for physical labor and combat.
Probably due to them being the Westerlanders with most blood ties to the First Man.
Which leads me to the Kingdom as a whole.
Some people say that Tywin was too harsh, that eradicating every member of the Reynes and Tarbecks family was not necessary.
But now there are no bannermen as loyal to their Lord as the Westerlands to him.
If any lord bridles at his authority, he has only to send a singer with a harp, and they fall back into line.
Because Tywin will not have his Lords squabble amongst themselves, like the Lords of the Riverlands, or hide in his castle, like the lords of the Vale, each of his bannermen contributed a unique skill that furthered the whole of the Westerlands.
House Clegane, since every Lord needs a beast from time to time.
Say anything about him, but the Mountain that Rides strikes terror into the hearts of the Lannisters’ enemies and their friends.
So too does his brother, Sandor, my Sworn Shield
House Payne, who provided them loyal servants.
Ser Ilyn Payne was once captain of Tywin’s household guard until the Mad King heard him boast that he ran the Seven Kingdoms, which he actually did.
The Mad King tore out Ser Ilyn’s tongue, making him especially well-suited to later become the King’s Justice.
Podrick Payne was still just a kid.
House Lefford, who guarded the Golden Tooth, the eastern pass through the mountains, and the all-too-frequent chaos of the Seven Kingdoms.
House Farman, known for their hatred of the ironborn from the Iron Islands since they are stationed off the coast of the Westerlands, providing their own fleet to aid the Lannister fleet.
House Kenning of Kayce is strategically located in a position where it could sight and send a warning of any Ironborn invasion.
House Brax had their pristine mounted cavalry to bolster the army.
House Sarsfield had renowned archers.
House Prester had great command leaders, House Marbrand skilled Knights, House Crakehall strong warriors and House Plumm competent stewards.
And so on and so forth.
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Spending time to OBSERVE the group of men I’ve managed to convince to follow me, I got a better understanding of how stats worked for regular people that weren’t part of my party.
Tyrion is a dwarf with stunted legs, stubby fingers, and a jutting forehead.
Similar to me, he has mismatched eyes, though his are green and black, and rumors spread that he has an “evil eye”.
Tyrion’s thin hair is fair and flaxen, so blond it can appear white.
He has some strands of black hair, however, and if he grows a beard it is yellow, white, and black.
No wonder why Tywin always doubted if he wasn’t his son. Perhaps recalling how disrespectful the Mad King had once been to his own wife.
{TYRION LANNISTER, THE IMP.}
LV: 25
RACE: ANDAL
ALLEGIANCE: HOUSE LANNISTER
PWR: 15
END: 13
MOB: 9
INT: 30
STL: 22
DEF: 9* (Padded Clothes)
{Tyrion Lannister is a member of House Lannister and is the third and youngest child of Lady Joanna Lannister. His older half siblings are Cersei Lannister, the queen of King Robert I Baratheon, and Ser Jaime Lannister, a knight of Robert’s Kingsguard.
Tyrion is a dwarf; because of this he is sometimes called the Imp and the Halfman.
Tyrion’s unique stare was said to make people uncomfortable, which he tries to use to his advantage.
He is intelligent, well educated, and a ferocious reader.
The young Lannister is sharp of wit and tongue. Even though he is no warrior, he has been trained at arms and shows great bravery in battle. Tyrion has stated that what he lacks in size and strength he makes up for in mental acuity.
Tyrion generally receives little respect and is often mocked. His deformity is the cause of many problems and persecution, although mitigated to some extent by his high social standing and his family’s wealth and power. He craves for love and respect from his family, but does not have a good relationship with all his family members. His deformity and the fact that his mother Joanna died at his birth are two of the reasons that his father Tywin and sister Cersei despise him. Tywin has never forgiven him for Joanna’s death. Unbeknownst to Tyrion, Cersei also despises him largely because of a prophecy made to her when she was a young girl. The prophecy claimed that a valonqar (High Valyrian for “little brother”) would eventually end her life. Cersei has always identified Tyrion as her valonqar and has thus been determined to rid herself of him ever since. Tyrion’s older brother Jaime was the only one who ever treated Tyrion with love and affection and for this Tyrion believed he would forgive his brother for anything.
At a young age, Tyrion married Tysha, a commoner, but eventually Jaime told him the girl was a whore he had paid to take Tyrion’s vɨrġɨnɨtƴ. Tyrion was crushed, and the memory of her has long haunted him. Believing that no girl could ever truly love him for who he was, he began to seek his pŀėȧsurė with prȯstɨtutės. Tywin felt this brought more shame on their house, further deteriorating their relationship.
He finds you interesting and is willing to befriend you.
He is busy reading the book you lent him.}
I’m supposedly just as smart as him, but I’m sure that I’ve memorized several topics he hadn’t even studied upon.
Regardless, next is my Sworn Shield.
Sandor was a huge and heavily-muscled man. With grey eyes, large and hooked nose, and long dark thin hair.
One side of Sandor’s face was gaunt, with sharp cheekbones and a heavy brow, while the other side was a burned ruin of scars.
Slick black flesh was poked with craters and deep cracks that oozed red and wet, his ear was only a hole with a stump, and a hint of bone showed on his jaw as the scars extended down to his throat.
He had a twisted mass of scars around his eye, which was still good, not harmed by the fire, but he had no lips on that side.
Sandor brushes his hair so that it covers his burned side, since no hair grows there.
Sandor speaks in a rough, rasping voice, and had a laugh like the snarling of dogs in a pit.
The burnt corner of his mouth twitched whenever he spoke.
He is taller than my father, King Robert, and uncle Jaime, but supposedly shorter than Hodor and Lord Jon Umber.
The Hound regularly wore an olive-green cloak over plain, soot-dark armor, and a distinctive helm sculpted into the shape of a snarling dog’s head.
Tobho would certainly be able to craft one better, but it was still of good quality.
He also sometimes wore a brown roughspun tunic and studded leather jerkin, or wore a red woolen tunic with a leather dog’s head sewn on the front.
The young Clegane liked to wield a longsword, a warhammer, and a dagger, and could wield an axe when the situation called for it.
Interestingly enough, his stallion was a heavy courser named Stranger. Shadow liked to be around it more than it did to Sandor.
Clegane also had one squire named Theo, that I bȧrėly saw around him.
Probably too scared to be around him more than he needed to, which seemed to suit the Hound just fine.
{SANDOR CLEGANE, SWORN SHIELD OF THE CROWN PRINCE.}
LV: 30
RACE: ANDAL
ALLEGIANCE: House Lannister/ The Crown Prince
PWR: 38
END: 37
MOB: 28
INT: 16
STL: 10
DEF: 40* (Castle-forged steel Plate armor: Piercing/Slashing +100% Damage Resistance/ Bludgeoning +50% Damage Resistance)
{Sandor Clegane is a member of House Clegane and is the younger brother of Ser Gregor Clegane. Sandor is nicknamed the Hound for his fierce nature and unquestioning obedience to House Lannister and for the three dogs featured in his family’s arms. As a child, Sandor received gruesome facial burns when Gregor shoved his face into a brazier. He has come to loathe fire, his brother, and the hypocrisy of knighthood in general. The sworn shield of Prince Durrandon Baratheon, Sandor is considered one of the most dangerous fighters in Westeros.
He gambles and patronizes whores and winesinks. Sandor hates and fears fire, but will carry a torch or light a campfire when needed. And he loved killing people.
Sandor has a positive opinion about you, but he still doesn’t consider you a friend.
He is feeling bored.}
“All priests preach about the seven hells. What do they know? Only a man who’s been burned knows what hell is truly like.” Sandor berated Thoros, who still insisted to befriend him.
“Aye, you might be right Clegane.” Thoros of Myr agreed. “Some of my peers claim to see the future in the flames, but more often than not they are slowly roasting themselves alive without knowing.”
At that Sandor went silent with wide eyes. The poor Clegane hated Fire worshipers as much as he feared them.
Speaking of Thoros…
The red priest is a tall, fat man in flapping red robes and armor. He shaves his head and has a smooth face.
{THOROS OF MYR, RED PRIEST.}
LV: 32
RACE: MYRISH
ALLEGIANCE: Himself/ Faith of R’hllor
PWR: 34
END: 30
MOB: 30
INT: 20
STL: 15
DEF: 40* (Castle-forged steel Plate armor: Piercing/Slashing +100% Damage Resistance/ Bludgeoning +50% Damage Resistance)
{Thoros of Myr is a red priest of R’hllor from the Free City of Myr, and was a member of King Robert I Baratheon’s court at King’s Landing.
The genial Thoros enjoys wine, joking that he became a red priest because the robes would hide wine stains. He is fond of feasts and tourneys, has a gift for tongues, and has some success seeing visions in flames.
Thoros has a reputation as a brave madman with an absurd but dangerous firesword. The red priest is a great friend of King Robert I Baratheon.
Thoros is a frequent tourney mêlée champion, using cheap swords set aflame with wildfire to spook the other combatants’ horses. Three times Thoros defeated Sandor Clegane in the mêlées, but got wounded in the recent one. At the tourney on Prince Durrandon’s name day, Thoros was defeated by the Disguised prince with a common weapon after the fire of his sword guttered out. Tobho Mott, displeased with the burning of swords, overcharges Thoros for replacements, but Robert is glad to provide for his friend.
He likes you and will defend you with his life.
Thoros is feeling bored.}
“Ah, I finally remembered!” Syrio said to him, having not spent enough time socializing with anyone besides me. “You are the Myrish priest are you not? The red wizard!”
“The pink pretender, rather. I’m afraid I’m a bad priest and an even worse wizard.” He replied.
Now for my Water dance tutor.
A bravo from Braavos, a master fencer and former First Sword of Braavos.
Contrary to what the Tv series had him depicted, he was a slight, bald man with a beak of a nose.
Though the shortness was still very accurate, being even shorter than the late Lord Baelish.
On my sixth name day, I was almost at his height.
{SYRIO FOREL, WATER DANCE MASTER.}
LV: 34
RACE: BRAVOSSI
ALLEGIANCE: Crown Prince Durrandon
PWR: 25
END: 27
MOB: 37
INT: 28
STL: 30
DEF: 15* (Padded armor: Piercing/Slashing/ Bludgeoning +25% Damage Resistance)
{The day the old First Sword died, the Sealord of Braavos sent for Syrio. Syrio, upon entering the Sealord’s presence, was asked what was special about the cat, claimed to be from a far off land, seated on the Sealord’s ŀȧp. Syrio answered him truthfully, telling him that he has seen tomcats like him a thousand times in the alleys of Braavos. Because he saw the reality of what the cat was, common not special and male not female, he was named First Sword.
Syrio respects you and will fight at your side if the need arises.
He is feeling intrigued.}
“I would like to learn more about your dance.” Jalabhar admitted.
The exiled prince has the dark skin and extravagant feather cape typical of Summer Islanders.
The feathers of his own cape are green and scarlet. And he also owns another splendid cape of feathers, a plumage so extravagant and fantastic that he seemed to be ready to take flight.
He speaks both the Common Tongue and his native Summer Tongue.
{JALABHAR XHO, EXILED PRINCE OF THE RED FLOWER VALE.}
LV: 30
RACE: SUMMER ISLANDER
ALLEGIANCE: HIMSELF
PWR: 30
END: 32
MOB: 31
INT: 22
STL: 20
DEF: 20* (Brigandine armor: Piercing/Slashing/ Bludgeoning +30% Damage Resistance)
{Jalabhar Xho is the exiled Prince of the Red Flower Vale, likely exiled for losing a highly ritualized war as per the tradition of the Summer Isles. Following his exile, Jalabhar came to King’s Landing in the Seven Kingdoms to request gold and swords from King Robert I Baratheon to help him regain the Red Flower Vale. Robert always entertained the notion of conquering the Summer Isles, but continuously told Jalabhar and put it off until the next year. Although Robert always put off Jalabhar’s request for help, he never firmly declined him, telling him “Next year” instead of “No”.
While Jalabhar continues to occasionally petition the Iron Throne to win back his seat, he had become a noted courtier at King’s Landing. Having no other place to seek refuge, the exiled Prince of the Red Flower Vale accepted to follow the Crown Prince.
Jalabhar likes you and is hopeful that you will be the one that will help him earn his home back.
He is currently bored.}
Even with higher stats than mine, I had never seen them come close to performing any of my stunts during my Night Raids and Dungeon delvings.
Like the undead that could shatter wood with a punch while bȧrėly going past 10 in their Power stat, it seems I couldn’t compare myself with the others.
Looking at their skills the gap became even greater.
Not to mention some active skills that made me even more dangerous, like Power Strike, which served as a great multiplier of force.
Now a quick glimpse around everyone else.
{LOTHOR BRUNE, FREERIDER.}
LV: 28
RACE: ANDAL
ALLEGIANCE: HIMSELF
PWR: 27
END: 29
MOB: 28
INT: 23
STL: 19
DEF: 35* (Plate armor: Piercing/Slashing +75% Damage Resistance/ Bludgeoning +30% Damage Resistance)
{Lothor is of low birth and is a distant, poorer cousin to House Brune. After his father’s death, Lothor went to the Brunes of Brownhollow in an attempt to form a family bond, but they said he was no kin of theirs. He also states that he learned what he knows of arms the hard way.
Lothor finds you interesting.
He is currently bored.}
Not bad.
{BRONN REYNE, SELLSWORD.}
LV: 31
RACE: ANDAL
ALLEGIANCE: HIMSELF
PWR: 25
END: 26
MOB: 34
INT: 25
STL: 29
DEF: 30* (Chainmail armor: Slashing +75% Damage Resistance)
{Bronn is a low-born sellsword of great skill and cunning.
He knows nothing of his lineage.
Bronn finds you interesting, if not a little too smart.
He is currently bored.}
The guy is pretty competent in combat and suas a good head over his shoulders.
{CLEO FREY, KNIGHT OF HOUSE FREY.}
LV: 23
RACE: ANDAL
ALLEGIANCE: HOUSE FREY/ HOUSE LANNISTER
PWR: 18
END: 16
MOB: 17
INT: 15
STL: 19
DEF: 15* (Padded armor: Piercing/Slashing/ Bludgeoning +25% Damage Resistance)
{Ser Cleos Frey is a knight of House Frey and the eldest son of Emmon Frey and Genna Lannister. He is married to Jeyne Darry and has two young sons, Tywin and Willem. His personal coat-of-arms is the twin towers of House Frey and the golden lion of House Lannister, quartered.
He finds you interesting and is willing to serve.
He is currently bored.}
This one however was a little too incompetent.
Sure, better than a peasant, but not by much.
{HOSTEEN FREY, KNIGHT OF HOUSE FREY.}
LV: 28
RACE: ANDAL
ALLEGIANCE: HOUSE FREY
PWR: 37
END: 36
MOB: 25
INT: 10
STL: 15
DEF: 35* (Plate armor: Piercing/Slashing +75% Damage Resistance/ Bludgeoning +30% Damage Resistance)
{Ser Hosteen Frey is a knight of House Frey, the sixth son of Lord Walder Frey, the first one born of his third wife, Amarei Crakehall. He is married to Bellena Hawick.
He finds you interesting and is willing to serve.
He is currently bored.}
All brawn and no brain.
But still, having someone as tough as Clegane around isn’t a bad thing.
{WALDER RIVERS, BASTARD OF HOUSE FREY.}
LV: 30
RACE: ANDAL
ALLEGIANCE: HIMSELF
PWR: 24
END: 25
MOB: 33
INT: 24
STL: 28
DEF: 30* (Chainmail armor: Slashing +75% Damage Resistance)
{Ser Walder Rivers, also known as Bastard Walder, is a knight and the eldest of Lord Walder Frey’s bastards. He is married to a lady of House Charlton and has two children, Walda and Aemon. Walder’s personal coat of arms is a silver-grey castle in blue (the colors of House Frey reversed) beneath a sinister red bend.
He finds you interesting and is willing to serve.
He is currently bored.}
Bronn better watch out, this guy is almost as good as him.
And now, last but not least…
{BRYDEN TULLY, THE BLACKFISH.}
LV: 35
RACE: ANDAL
ALLEGIANCE: HIMSELF
PWR: 30
END: 26
MOB: 27
INT: 28
STL: 30
DEF: 35* (Castle-forged steel Chainmail armor: Slashing +100% Damage Resistance)
{Ser Brynden Tully, also known as Brynden Blackfish, Brynden the Blackfish, or simply the Blackfish, is a knight from House Tully. He is the younger brother of Hoster Tully, Lord Paramount of the Trident, and the uncle of Lady Catelyn Stark, Lady Lysa Arryn, and Ser Edmure Tully. The Blackfish would have continued to serve as the Knight of the Gate for House Arryn, but was convinced that he could use the adventure before growing old and decrepit.
He finds you interesting and is willing to follow you.
He is currently bored.}
—————————————————————
After what seemed like many weeks at the road since leaving King’s Landing, Tywin’s retinue finally pulled its weary way into Lannisport.
A pleasant stop after weeks trudging through hills and mountains with only goats and miners for company.
I can’t begin to describe how different this scenery was to the Riverlands.
This was a proper city, bustling, proud and well-maintained.
It was well defended too.
As our retinue passed through the city’s wall, I could sight the harbor, with port guards peering out of its walls in the far distance.
These sea defenses were necessary.
I’ve read how Seaguard, up in the Riverlands, had an entire defence system with a warning bell tower and fleet designed specifically to protect from attacks from the Ironborn.
Lannisport was no different.
But whereas Seaguard, and other such towns down the west coast, might offer some spoils of war and glory in battle for the Ironborn, Lannisport had always been seen as a much greater price.
Its riches, its gold and abundance of people to be taken as thralls have proven just too tempting for generations of Ironborn.
To be honest, that was also one of the main reasons why I chose to become Tywin’s ward.
Regardless, it was said that the Ironborn have attempted to raid here a couple of dozen times or more over the years.
Two times the city had actually been burned, partially or completely.
The third yet to happen would occur during the Greyjoy rebellion, as the Iron fleet would launch a surprise attack, burning the Lannister fleet at harbor.
But just like in canon, that rebellion would of course be short-lived, and Lannisport itself will host the victory tourney, which would obviously be one of the richest in history.
Though defense was still only the second most important priority for this harbor, for this was a trading port.
Although this was on the far side of Westeros from most of its trading partners, that doesn’t seem to deter the traders, whose ships I could see on their way to the dock.
Braavosi, Tyroshi and other sailors from Essos were here, as well as those from closer to home.
Too tempting for me to not pay a visit as soon as possible.
Here the great trade routes from the east stop off at all of the major harbors and trading towns of Westeros.
White Harbor, Gulltown, King’s Landing, Oldtown and here, in Lannisport.
For most, this was the last stop.
A last chance to sell their goods and an opportunity to reprovision before heading back eastwards around the bottom of Westeros.
Lannisport’s position in this great trade route though, if you will forgive a little economic reflection, was actually more precarious than one might think.
It was a large city no doubt, but its economic advantage that brought the traders here was its gold work.
The gold work here was renowned throughout the known world, jewelry and larger items were equally sought-after.
The Goldsmith’s that line the streets here get their raw materials from the mines in the caverns deep below Casterly Rock, then mold and decorate it with imported gemstones or other metals.
Suffice to say that, even though there were no Blacksmiths as skilled as Tobho Mott, it still had plenty of skilled professionals for my plans.
That said, if the gold were ever to run out or the port taxes hiked up too high, as they were briefly by Aerys II in his long-running spat with Tywin Lannister, then traders may well decide that it wasn’t worth the extra fifteen hundred miles or so round trip from Oldtown.
Particularly when there were plenty of enterprising merchants willing to carry the goods along the Gold road for them, to King’s Landing say, where they could easily pick them up.
But for now, the city basked in its wealth.
Magnificent trading houses and merchants’ townhouses lined the well-kept broad streets.
This was a harbour town, the end of sea routes, but also the meeting point of many of the great roads in Westeros, and trade and people travel here along them too.
The Gold road to King’s Landing, the River Road to Riverrun and the Ocean Road to Highgarden were all well maintained and well traveled.
And they all meet here, in the bustling squares of Lannisport.
This would provide enough manpower for my projects.
The city was undoubtedly well-connected.
Like all cities, and this was the third largest in Westeros behind only King’s Landing and Oldtown, security was visible and ever vigilant.
The city wall didn’t just mark the bounds of the harbor, but curved around the side of the city inland as well, high and proud.
And the city watch seemed to be of a different class to those in similar cities.
They were well-drilled, dressed in clearly expensive armor and completely focused on their duties.
Their presence, marching up and down the streets, was supposedly to be simultaneously threatening and reassuring.
One immediately got the impression that disorder was not tolerated on the streets of Lannisport.
Which was a sad reminder that I wouldn’t have much to gain from my Night Raids here.
Besides, it wouldn’t do for the ‘Stranger’ to appear right after my arrival.
Regardless of that, as one stepped onto the urban grounds, this city had the usual sights and smells one would expect.
Thank the Gods the guards of the City Watch weren’t such killjoys as to stop everything.
The smell of stale ale hung heavy around the taverns and sailors made best use of their few hours or days ashore, with understandable enthusiasm.
Stevedores, Ships captain’s, Port officials and traders shouted instructions at each other over the hubbub of the port, and fishermen hurried their haul to the mongers and inns across the city.
It was said that every city had its own unique smell, and here the oaky scent of wood smoke permeated everything, perhaps from the fires used to melt and mold the gold.
Somewhere here too, was one of the most astonishing things in this world.
A menagerie filled with wondrous animals from around the world.
Which was really neat.
But as mighty and diverse as Lannisport was, it was impossible to talk about without mentioning the crag that loomed over it, physically and metaphorically, a mile north of here.
Casterly Rock, home of House Lannister.
It was said, though these things happened in the Age of Heroes so who could know for sure, that a millennia ago House Lannister split.
The main branch stayed in Casterly Rock, well protected from attack, but an ancient cadet branch founded Lannisport, growing slowly prosperous from the abundant fishing opportunities in the Sunset Sea.
The settlement became a town, which became a
city.
I wanted to know more about them.
But although the Lannisters of Lannisport became and remained wealthy, it was the original Lannisters, who stayed on Casterly Rock, who became even richer.
Discovering vein after vein of pure gold to exploit.
They became the kings of the rock and then the Lords paramount of the westerlands.
And it was to the Rock that we were heading.
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While Tywin led me towards Casterly Rock, Tyrion was left behind to guide Sandor and the other man to where they would be staying.
I had departed from the group stating that tomorrow we would be initiating a project of mine.
As the temperature quickly dropped, hinting that Fall was about to give space to Winter, everyone shot me questioning looks about what my plans might be.
Though I simply told them that Tywin had tasked me with making preparations for training some man to serve.
Now, back to my tour.
To call Casterly Rock a Rock was to do it a disservice, gazing up at it it felt more like a mountain.
It was very high, perhaps three times as high as the wall, and broad and fat, six miles from end to end, sitting alone, looming out over the harbor of Lannisport and set well apart from the mountains further inland.
At dusk, legend has it, it had the shape of a
lion at repose.
I suppose it does, if you squint a bit and tilt your head to one side, but what was more noteworthy I would say was how the reds and oranges of sunset played over the rock itself, imbuing it with a deep ŀustrous hue that matched the red and gold of the Lannister’s house colors.
But as impressive as this site was, I decided to start my ascent earlier in the day to give me plenty of time to reach the summit and, just as importantly, explore the base of the Rock itself.
For Casterly Rock was not just a castle on top of a hill, it was a castle carved out of the Rock itself and deep into it.
It was riddled with caverns and tunnels and mine shafts that descend deep underground.
Which would help me deal with homesickness, especially since I wouldn’t have to deal with Varys and his birds noticing me.
Indeed, although Casterly Rock boasted of never having been successfully taken by enemies, one had to wonder whether it was vulnerable nonetheless to someone who knew their
way through that maze of caverns.
If I recall correctly, Tywin gave Tyrion charge of all the cisterns and drains at Casterly Rock.
The Rock itself of course predates humans on
Westeros, and the caves here seemed to have
been used by the Children of the Forest
and other wild creatures from the age of
antiquity.
Indeed, there was a Weirwood tree here, and a godswood of sorts, known as the stone garden in a cave deep inside the Rock.
The tree that grew there was not huge, but it was twisted and deformed, like the one at Harrenhal.
Its roots and branches fill the cave to the extent that nothing else grows there, and one does not walk into the cave so much as clamber into it over the tangle of exposed roots.
Sadly, touching it didn’t give me another level on my Druid title, which I ȧssumed would only continue to become harder to level up.
Regardless, the Lannisters do not follow the Old Gods, and it showed.
What they value instead above all was gold.
There were dozens, if not hundreds, of mine shafts here.
As one might expect, they were all guarded by a rather grim-faced Lannister Guard, ordinary people couldn’t get a proper look in here.
Besides, the prospect of climbing that far underground just to stare at a thin vein of gold in torchlight wasn’t that worthy for most that could.
But I saw enough to know that this was a busy and efficient operation.
From these mines, the gold went for smelting and refining, before ending up in the Lannister family vaults also deep inside the Rock, or sold to the Goldsmiths and jewelers in Lannisport
to keep trade flowing through the Westerlands.
But there was more.
As I worked my way around the base of the Rock, it was possible to see quite how many uses this vast crag had been put to, I passed the huge stables carved into its side and a barracks.
Looking up, there were balconies high above me sticking out of the rock face, hinting at accommodation.
I was passed by stevedores carrying goods from Lannisport bound for the storerooms in the rock and heard rumors of dungeons and even a cave once set aside for lions.
There was even a complex and exceptionally well maintained system of cisterns and drains, criss-crossing the Rock to keep everywhere clean and free from the kinds of smells you find in many similar cities and fortresses of
this land.
But the most impressive cavern of all was of course the Lion’s mouth.
This huge natural cave was the main entrance to Casterly Rock from both the land and sea.
There was a full working dock here, big enough to allow cogs and small galleys to unload and head back out.
Not just that, but also shipyards to repair any damaged ships that may come in and warehouses to store goods.
It was a useful reminder that Casterly Rock was independent from Lannisport.
The city might be the economic heart of the Westerlands, but the castle and the Rock were not reliant on it.
As well as the dock, the Lion’s mouth was also the start of the long staircase up to the summit.
It was wide enough here for twenty horsemen to ride up it side by side, if they wished.
But I just stuck to the side and enjoyed the views as I headed up.
And there were some spectacular views out over the Sunset Sea and Lannisport, and this had the added advantage of feeling civilized and safe.
I’ve read that some other high places like Eyrie, The Wall and so on, felt as though they have
been left deliberately wild and exposed to the elements with visitors not made welcome.
But here, it felt as though the sheer scale of the Rock was being used by the Lannisters to show off.
To show how they have conquered it, ruled it and own it.
Visitors were made to feel in awe of House Lannister, not nature.
Not that the Rock had always belonged to House Lannister of course, there was a reason why it was Casterly Rock not Lannister Rock.
The first people who discovered or exploited Casterly Rock were what it was now thought of as House Casterly.
They started mining it back in the Dawn age and soon expanded up into the Rock itself, carving out chambers and halls for themselves.
They erected a ring fort in the style of the First Men on top of the Rock, and fortified the entrances to their mines to protect their gold.
In short, they turned it from a mine into a fortress.
One that, at the time, was easily the largest and most formidable in the land, and with the gold from their mines, they became the richest family in Westeros.
Then something happened.
Or someone happened.
Lann the clever.
The original one.
The truth was that, despite the many legends, no one knew exactly what he did to get the Rock from the Casterlys, just that they disappeared from history and House Lannister (descending from Lann the clever himself) seamlessly took over ownership of the rock.
The most widespread legend was probably the most easily discountable, that Lann found a
secret tunnel into the Rock, one so tight that he had to take off all his clothes and cover himself in buŧŧer to squeeze through.
But once inside, he set himself to sowing discord, he wailed like some fell beast from behind the stone walls, disappearing when people came to investigate, set traps in the dark for unwary Casterlys and turned to the family against itself with cunning artifices, like stealing from one
brother and framing another.
He kept all of this up for so long that the Casterlys became convinced that the Rock
was haunted, cursed or some malign force would never leave them alone as long as they stayed there.
So they left and Lann the clever emerged from the shadows to claim the Rock and all its gold for himself.
As I said, I suspect that this was a story more for the telling than the believing.
But even more mundane explanations, like that he married the daughter of the Lord of the Rock, eliminated all rivals and established a new House in his own name, even suggested that he was a man of uncommon drive and ingenuity.
But whatever the details of that change in ownership were, it happened.
And as I emerged now onto the top of the Rock, I could see the truth of what I suspected from down below.
The massive castle was more in the Rock than on it.
There were fortifications up here of course, carved from the stone itself.
There was a thick wall, watchtowers, a barbican with heavy oak gates and portcullises.
But once inside, it’s clear that these were just fortifications, like the highest points on any castle.
To get to the living quarters, the kitchens or Great Hall, one must go back down underground, which gives the impression that this must be a dark forbidding place.
But it actually wasn’t.
No more than any other castle.
Light streamed in through huge windows, entire sections of Rock had been carved out to create beautiful courtyards and open areas.
The difference between this and other castles was that normal castles had been created by placing stone on stone, but here new rooms were made by carving out new parts of the rock, each time going deeper, further into the rock.
And it was all decorated at great expense and with impeccable, if sometimes gaudy, taste by
the Lannisters.
It was warm and homely as well as bold in its architecture.
I’ve already mentioned the rather curious stone garden here, and there were a couple more rooms the inquisitive visitor should definitely take time to peruse.
The Hall of Heroes was where dead Lannisters and others close to them who have died valiantly were buried.
Unlike the Winterfell crypt, which was supposed to be cold and unwelcoming, this was showy and deliberately intended to homage the greatness of those who have passed.
The armor of fallen heroes was placed prominently on display, and stories were told of bravery and nobility.
I liked it.
It was very Lannistery.
But the other place to visit was even more Lannistery.
The golden gallery.
This long hall was filled floor to ceiling with the evidences of the Lannisters wealth and
power.
Heirlooms crafted from the gold mines deep beneath my feet, tapestries of victorious wars and so on, power and wealth displayed openly for all who visit to see.
Although I wasn’t attached to gold, I already felt I was at home.
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(24/10/2021)
*Hope this chapter is of your liking.
Anything you wish to ask, feel free to do so.
Check out my auxiliary chapter if you still haven’t.
Thanks as always for your attention and please be safe.
Any problems with my writing, just point them out and I will correct them as soon as possible.
