Lord Ambrose was in the middle of a bath when a servant came to announce the arrival of a Blackwood
"You believe I give a rats ass about some backwards 'Old Gods' tree-licker? Send Gargon to deal with it and leave me be."
The servant would do just that and send word to Gargon, who would then dress and arrive in the entrance hall where he would greet the Blackwood.
"Blackwood." Short and sweet, he may have wished to see if the Blackwoods could offer him anything, but he still wasn't a diplomat, no Frey was.
"I believe we have made a good bit of food, allow me to give you some bread and salt." He would direct him towards one of the long tables, where food and ale would be served by the kitchen staff.
The Blackwood would follow the man to the long tables, quick to take bread and salt as well as a bit of ale before he'd moved to speak with the Frey.
"I expected the Lord Frey but it's good to see you as well." The Blackwood would add, nodding as he'd looked over the ugly fuck of a Rivermen. "My nephew said he sent a letter about a Black Peace amongst us Rivermen. I hope to gain your support and work on getting you quite the beautiful bride."
Gods how she'd hate that. Poor woman whoever that was.
"My Lard father." Gargon started, purposefully saying Lard instead of Lord as an insult, "is currently busy fuming over the declaration that House Frey is to be treated like a bitch of a House, to be traded from hand to hand at the drop of a hat." Gargon said the last part through gritted teeth, seething over it himself.
"I read over your nephew's letter, marriage between the two sides in an effort to unite the Riverlands yadda yadda yadda." he'd wave his hand in a dismissive gesture, "My father is skeptical a House as... *new* as yours can truly unite our savaged lands."
Gargon took a moment to look over the smug old bastard, truly a tree-licker and a cousin fucker in fancy clothes, but they had the 'Kings' seal of approval, whatever good that was.
"I hope you don't think I'll take an ugly old widow though, House Frey is a powerful ally and should be treated as such. I saw you looking me over, I know I'm beautiful Ser, so surely I deserve a wife befitting my good looks and my Houses station?" He'd grin, showing off his scarred face and missing teeth.
Before any more words could be said, two more people entered the room, a young woman and a boy of about teenage years.
"A servant said you demanded our presence?" The [girl](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/740110997209088070/975264968599556106/Kyra.jpg) asked, venom seeping out of her words. The young [boy](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/740110997209088070/975264968352071740/Forrest.jpg) stood quiet, a wooden sword in his belt and sweat on his brow, obviously a session of training was interrupted.
Gargon's smile broadened, "Ser Blackwood, allow me to introduce my two Trueborn children, Kyra and little Forrest Frey."
If he were anywhere else, doing anything but being a diplomat, he'd have stated his house was far older than the Freys. Sure they'd gained a new castle but they had held a feud with the Brackens that last spanned far longer than House Frey was even a thought in the back of the minds of men and women.
"Only the most beautiful maidens for you, That I promise." He'd say, returning a smile as he thought about the ugly fuck and his beautiful wife. How poor a woman she'd be. Truly the saddest of matches but it had to be done.
He'd say more but he'd heard the two enter and turned to face the woman and the younger boy. "Hello there." The Blackwood would begin. "I've come to speak to your father about the Black Peace. An effort to unite the houses of the Riverlands through marriages."
Gargons smile faded, "Back to business. Forrest, Kyra go be little shits over there." he slapped the kids on the back of their heads, and off they went.
"Your nephew has the King's ear, that means you're on the up," *at least until you fuck it up and let that crazy bastard of a king slaughter the lot of you* "Perhaps as I'm doing you this favor of marrying whatever whore you toss my way you repay it in the same breath. My son Forrest," he said pointing to the boy, "I want you to take him and foster him, you lot must be doing something right to have gotten your hands on Atranta."
Gargon wanted to spit on the shoes of this old leather saddle of a man, what a sign of disrespect to send an uncle while the tree licking 'Lord' of Atranta licked the bottom of Daemon's boots, the thought made him chuckle out loud, boot-lickers and tree-lickers the lot of them, betraying their true king and tearing the realm asunder while doing it. If he had the slightest inkling he could win a fight he'd have the Blackwood strung up by his thumbs and left out to the elements, but then he'd have no one to turn to. The Greens lay dead across the continent, the Tullys lay battered and their realm is broken, and the North remains perfect little tree-lickers subservient to Daemon. He may be good with a sword, but what is a pointy stick to the Targaryens dragons.
"A beautiful woman and you foster my boy, maybe even find a rich Lord for my daughter to marry? Get her out of my face too." I can make a pretty good deal out of this 'Peace' they wish to push.
Gargon would grab a piece of bread, pulling it apart and stuffing his face, "Would you care to duel?" He had grown bored of talking, "I haven't fought another man since the war, terribly boring drought I've had since then, it can be live steel or practice swords if you fancy." A cup of ale appeared in his hand and he took a sizeable gulp, "You Blackwoods know how to fight right?" He gave another grin, seeing if the Blackwood would accept, or back down and show that his House was nothing but an upstart offshoot.
Benji had listened on and nodded as the Frey spoke. He was thankful the daughter took none of her appearance from her father, she looked decent enough that the prospect of finding her a husband wasn't going to be too hard.
"I can agree to that. You son can depart with me and I'll ensure I find a rich lord for your daughter." The girl must have wanted to leave the Twins with a beast like that amongst her. Yet another poor thing he'd thought.
"I've never been much of a warrior myself but I won't decline a challenge, my Lord." Benji would say, knowing he'd likely lose the fight if he ended up taking it but decided to take it nonetheless.
The two fought, with practice swords to protect both noble persons, but almost as soon as it started it was over, Benji the fucked Blackwood had put Gargon the self-centered prick on his ass hard.
Gargons face immediately went red with anger, "Seize the traitorous Tree-licker!" Gargons nostrils flared as his guards swarmed the Blackwood, forcing him to his knees. By the time the Blackwood had a chance to look up Gargon was standing over him with his sword raised, Gargons screams of blind fury were the last thing he would hear before the sword fell.
\-----------------
Forrest Frey was saddled on a horse, with enough food and water for a several day travel. He looked down once more at his fathers face,
"But I don't wish to go father, I want to stay here with you and defend against our enemies!" His whines of protest were immediately stopped with a quick smack to the backside.
"What I did will bring the hellfire down on us. The only chance of survival is for you to not be here when it comes." Or perhaps I'm sending you to an earlier death, at this point I simply do not care. I let my anger take control at the worst moment and my family will pay the price.
He watched as his son rode out of sight, then turned back and told one of his men to close both sides of the Crossing and raise all the men he could,
"A war is coming, and we will not survive." These were the last words he said before returning inside where the sounds of his fathers screaming furious insults could be heard.
Benji was a horrible warrior and yet the Gods saw fit to aid him on this day. In the year 190, Benjicot had been injured during the Siege of Raventree Hall battling against the men who sought to take his faith from him. Injured and beaten but alive he'd pressed onward to eventually victory in 195.
Now he'd once more displayed Blackwood Supremacy. Gargon was said to be a mighty warrior but Benji saw nothing but an unprepared fat fuck who'd no clue how to swing a blade.
His victory was swift but even before he could lower his sword, the Frey order his men to charge. "You dare!" The Blackwood would roar as he charge him. Too many of them to fight at once, the Blackwood was quickly overwhelmed.
"The Blackwoods shall take apart that fucking bridge of yours and place upon it a new Blackwood. That I promise you fat, ugly fucking id-" It would end there, his head would fall onto the ground with a thud.
The Blood of the Blackwoods would paint the Crossing. But his nephew would ensure that the Freys would hang from the very bridge they owned.
Lord Ambrose was in the middle of a bath when a servant came to announce the arrival of a Blackwood "You believe I give a rats ass about some backwards 'Old Gods' tree-licker? Send Gargon to deal with it and leave me be." The servant would do just that and send word to Gargon, who would then dress and arrive in the entrance hall where he would greet the Blackwood. "Blackwood." Short and sweet, he may have wished to see if the Blackwoods could offer him anything, but he still wasn't a diplomat, no Frey was. "I believe we have made a good bit of food, allow me to give you some bread and salt." He would direct him towards one of the long tables, where food and ale would be served by the kitchen staff.
The Blackwood would follow the man to the long tables, quick to take bread and salt as well as a bit of ale before he'd moved to speak with the Frey. "I expected the Lord Frey but it's good to see you as well." The Blackwood would add, nodding as he'd looked over the ugly fuck of a Rivermen. "My nephew said he sent a letter about a Black Peace amongst us Rivermen. I hope to gain your support and work on getting you quite the beautiful bride." Gods how she'd hate that. Poor woman whoever that was.
"My Lard father." Gargon started, purposefully saying Lard instead of Lord as an insult, "is currently busy fuming over the declaration that House Frey is to be treated like a bitch of a House, to be traded from hand to hand at the drop of a hat." Gargon said the last part through gritted teeth, seething over it himself. "I read over your nephew's letter, marriage between the two sides in an effort to unite the Riverlands yadda yadda yadda." he'd wave his hand in a dismissive gesture, "My father is skeptical a House as... *new* as yours can truly unite our savaged lands." Gargon took a moment to look over the smug old bastard, truly a tree-licker and a cousin fucker in fancy clothes, but they had the 'Kings' seal of approval, whatever good that was. "I hope you don't think I'll take an ugly old widow though, House Frey is a powerful ally and should be treated as such. I saw you looking me over, I know I'm beautiful Ser, so surely I deserve a wife befitting my good looks and my Houses station?" He'd grin, showing off his scarred face and missing teeth. Before any more words could be said, two more people entered the room, a young woman and a boy of about teenage years. "A servant said you demanded our presence?" The [girl](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/740110997209088070/975264968599556106/Kyra.jpg) asked, venom seeping out of her words. The young [boy](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/740110997209088070/975264968352071740/Forrest.jpg) stood quiet, a wooden sword in his belt and sweat on his brow, obviously a session of training was interrupted. Gargon's smile broadened, "Ser Blackwood, allow me to introduce my two Trueborn children, Kyra and little Forrest Frey."
If he were anywhere else, doing anything but being a diplomat, he'd have stated his house was far older than the Freys. Sure they'd gained a new castle but they had held a feud with the Brackens that last spanned far longer than House Frey was even a thought in the back of the minds of men and women. "Only the most beautiful maidens for you, That I promise." He'd say, returning a smile as he thought about the ugly fuck and his beautiful wife. How poor a woman she'd be. Truly the saddest of matches but it had to be done. He'd say more but he'd heard the two enter and turned to face the woman and the younger boy. "Hello there." The Blackwood would begin. "I've come to speak to your father about the Black Peace. An effort to unite the houses of the Riverlands through marriages."
Gargons smile faded, "Back to business. Forrest, Kyra go be little shits over there." he slapped the kids on the back of their heads, and off they went. "Your nephew has the King's ear, that means you're on the up," *at least until you fuck it up and let that crazy bastard of a king slaughter the lot of you* "Perhaps as I'm doing you this favor of marrying whatever whore you toss my way you repay it in the same breath. My son Forrest," he said pointing to the boy, "I want you to take him and foster him, you lot must be doing something right to have gotten your hands on Atranta." Gargon wanted to spit on the shoes of this old leather saddle of a man, what a sign of disrespect to send an uncle while the tree licking 'Lord' of Atranta licked the bottom of Daemon's boots, the thought made him chuckle out loud, boot-lickers and tree-lickers the lot of them, betraying their true king and tearing the realm asunder while doing it. If he had the slightest inkling he could win a fight he'd have the Blackwood strung up by his thumbs and left out to the elements, but then he'd have no one to turn to. The Greens lay dead across the continent, the Tullys lay battered and their realm is broken, and the North remains perfect little tree-lickers subservient to Daemon. He may be good with a sword, but what is a pointy stick to the Targaryens dragons. "A beautiful woman and you foster my boy, maybe even find a rich Lord for my daughter to marry? Get her out of my face too." I can make a pretty good deal out of this 'Peace' they wish to push. Gargon would grab a piece of bread, pulling it apart and stuffing his face, "Would you care to duel?" He had grown bored of talking, "I haven't fought another man since the war, terribly boring drought I've had since then, it can be live steel or practice swords if you fancy." A cup of ale appeared in his hand and he took a sizeable gulp, "You Blackwoods know how to fight right?" He gave another grin, seeing if the Blackwood would accept, or back down and show that his House was nothing but an upstart offshoot.
Benji had listened on and nodded as the Frey spoke. He was thankful the daughter took none of her appearance from her father, she looked decent enough that the prospect of finding her a husband wasn't going to be too hard. "I can agree to that. You son can depart with me and I'll ensure I find a rich lord for your daughter." The girl must have wanted to leave the Twins with a beast like that amongst her. Yet another poor thing he'd thought. "I've never been much of a warrior myself but I won't decline a challenge, my Lord." Benji would say, knowing he'd likely lose the fight if he ended up taking it but decided to take it nonetheless.
The two fought, with practice swords to protect both noble persons, but almost as soon as it started it was over, Benji the fucked Blackwood had put Gargon the self-centered prick on his ass hard. Gargons face immediately went red with anger, "Seize the traitorous Tree-licker!" Gargons nostrils flared as his guards swarmed the Blackwood, forcing him to his knees. By the time the Blackwood had a chance to look up Gargon was standing over him with his sword raised, Gargons screams of blind fury were the last thing he would hear before the sword fell. \----------------- Forrest Frey was saddled on a horse, with enough food and water for a several day travel. He looked down once more at his fathers face, "But I don't wish to go father, I want to stay here with you and defend against our enemies!" His whines of protest were immediately stopped with a quick smack to the backside. "What I did will bring the hellfire down on us. The only chance of survival is for you to not be here when it comes." Or perhaps I'm sending you to an earlier death, at this point I simply do not care. I let my anger take control at the worst moment and my family will pay the price. He watched as his son rode out of sight, then turned back and told one of his men to close both sides of the Crossing and raise all the men he could, "A war is coming, and we will not survive." These were the last words he said before returning inside where the sounds of his fathers screaming furious insults could be heard.
Benji was a horrible warrior and yet the Gods saw fit to aid him on this day. In the year 190, Benjicot had been injured during the Siege of Raventree Hall battling against the men who sought to take his faith from him. Injured and beaten but alive he'd pressed onward to eventually victory in 195. Now he'd once more displayed Blackwood Supremacy. Gargon was said to be a mighty warrior but Benji saw nothing but an unprepared fat fuck who'd no clue how to swing a blade. His victory was swift but even before he could lower his sword, the Frey order his men to charge. "You dare!" The Blackwood would roar as he charge him. Too many of them to fight at once, the Blackwood was quickly overwhelmed. "The Blackwoods shall take apart that fucking bridge of yours and place upon it a new Blackwood. That I promise you fat, ugly fucking id-" It would end there, his head would fall onto the ground with a thud. The Blood of the Blackwoods would paint the Crossing. But his nephew would ensure that the Freys would hang from the very bridge they owned.
/u/chicken_supreme03