(I apologize in advance for my shoddy storytelling skills)

Part 1

It's been said that every morning when the sun rises on Galios, Goscthe smiles upon the people. On this morning, the sun rose, and with it so did Jakon. He laid his eyes on the city, and marvelled at it. He never thought such a foreign place could feel like home. As he toured the county, the common people marvelled at his extravagance. Jakob always had an air of superiority and importance about him. His dark hair was part to a side, showcasing a radiant face of indifference. Whenever people looked him in the eyes, they couldn't help but feel a shudder down their spine. Those dark, lifeless eyes always left an impression. A blood red cape held by a ruby crest fell over his black attire. Indeed, his entire persona yelled nobility, and those around him couldn't help but feel below him. The only thing that accented his aura was his travelling companion, Sage. A woman, a foot taller than him, who donned a full set of black armor. She had two swords, one at each hip, and for all intents and purposes served as Jakon's shadow. Her golden hair fell short, just stopping at her neck. Her blue eyes were filled with loyalty, willing to take any command from her lord.

The couple stopped at the Oakreach Inn, and stayed for some ale. Seeing the nobility that was Jakon, the barkeep immediately began to serve the two. "What'll it be, m'lord?"

Jakon chuckled. "Just ale for us. And I'm no lord. Not yet, anyway."

The barkeep responded, "Well you sure look like a lord. Where you come from?"

"Same place as you friend, Valtoros. Only some of us take more pride in the glory of our Kingdom," Jakon, said, with a bit of disdain in his voice. He glanced over to a table blessing their food before eating and sucked his teeth.

"Do the people of Galios remember the name Jaegar?" Jakon asked the barkeep.

"Aye, they do. Jaegar was noble house, shame it died with Jakob. The name still commands respect around here."

Jakon smiled to himself. He and Sage finished the rest of their ale and headed to their room. Sage kept guard outside of the room, occassionally dozing off. Jakon smiled to himself as he slept. The pilgrimages he made would be worthwhile, he knew. He dreamt of his family name, Jaegar, and how he reclaimed it, forging a new house in his stead. Vaegar. A Valyrian house, one that could bring pride to his king, and his newfound religion. In his heart, Jakon Vaegar knew that the nights to come would ring his name for Mercannums to come.

_________________
Jakon Vaegar
Count of Valtoros
Cariad of Valyria

Interesting tale. This was retold to me in my hall by a Valyrian trader, only simplified and less polite towards this fancy dresser. I must reach out to Orell and see what he makes of this "Lord."

_________________
Ealdorman Cerdic Beoden Accynnafon of Östlond
Runner Up of the Glas Claddach Boat Building Competition
Minister of Justice

Upstart or visionary? The plot thickens....

_________________
Petra Ravnikaar of The Veil

Part 2

The city of Galios turned orange under the setting sun. The sky was a magnificent pink that was slowly darkening. The face Jakob held was one that sent shivers even through Sage's spine. She tightened the straps to her armor and took a deep breath before looking at her lord. Jakon nodded and she went forward into the sunset, already dreading the sensation of the tendrils of night creeping at the back of her mind. Jakon started towards the Shrine of Goscthe. His hood was over his head, but even that couldn't hide the determination in his stride. The city was settling down, but every so often a commoner would look out the window and feel the change in the air.

Jakon approached the shrine, where Orell was on his knees, head bowed, praying to the usually white stone, now painted orange by the fading sun. Orell heard the footsteps approaching him and stood up.

"Can I help you?" asked the now aging man. The lines under Orell eyes were a bit more apparent now, and his hair slightly gray. The way Jakon's face was carved couldn't help but strike Orell with a tang of familiarity. "Do I know you?" Orell asked.

"Not yet. But you and I will become very familiar with one another tonight," Jakon answered.

"What do you mean?"

"I'm sure you remember Jakob Jaegar," Jakon said as he pulled the hoodie from his head. Orell's eyes widened at the sight of Jakon's face.

"You look like just like him," he said with awe in his voice.

"Well, he was my grandfather. I never met him, but I did know his son. Kubran Jaegar. You wouldn't know him, Jakob made sure of that. He wanted you to be the count. Why a man would want to end his house's claim to their ancestral keep I don't know, Jakob must've been a stupid man."

"Galios is not the ancestral keep to the Jaegar hous-"

"I am aware. I no longer belong to that damned house. My grandfather was a fool, and my father was weak. It was only through the strength of the Valyrians that I found my purpose."

"You're speaking like a mad man." Orell started reaching for the hilt of his sword, there was an undertone of seething hatred under the otherwise well spoken voice of Jakon. Jakon chuckled.

"I suppose greatness can seem like madness at times." Jakon saw Orell slowly reaching for the hilt of his sword. He smiled to himself. "I don't think I've properly introduced myself. I am Jakon, of the House Vaegar. And I've come to take what is rightfully mine." Orell drew his sword, but both men stood silent against the night. The dim clang of swords rang in the background. Orell turned to Galios, and saw a vanguard of soldiers riding in from the north. The Galian forces were clearly outnumbered. Orell charged forward, sword aimed for Jakon's heart, but was abruptly stopped by what felt like a giant wielding a sword. His sword, along with his body, fell to the ground, and looked up. Towering above him was a woman in black armor, covered in blood. Behind her was Jakon, who stared into the night, ready for the nights to come.

(More tomorrow!)

_________________
Jakon Vaegar
Count of Valtoros
Cariad of Valyria

What a prick.

_________________
Ulrik Gunnarson
Duke of the Gathered Races of Hermertia Homeland (GRHH)
The Chairman of the GRHH Co.

more!

_________________
Petra Ravnikaar of The Veil

I'm not sure how King Kyn can allow such savagery to rule one of his counties.

_________________
Ealdorman Cerdic Beoden Accynnafon of Östlond
Runner Up of the Glas Claddach Boat Building Competition
Minister of Justice

News of this likely hasnt reached the Noble house of Kyn, it's a huge kingdom after all...

_________________
Petra Ravnikaar of The Veil

Part 3

"King Kyn will never stand for this, you know." The dim light that Orell could make out from the tent gave him no clue as to where he was.

"Kyn will send in the vanguard, and your little stunt will have ended soon enough," Orell said to Jakon's back. The words fell off Jakon like rain falls off the roof of a building. He turned to Orell.

"Kyn will not send in anything. You will tell him that you have chosen me as your heir."

Orell chuckled. "You're mad. If you think I would do that, you must be mad. Even madder than I originally thought you were."

At this, Jakon brought himself down to Orell's level. He looked at Orell with his seemingly lifeless eyes and pale skin. He was almost like an apparition, a phantom that appeared one night and uprooted an entire city on the crux of a dream. Orell couldn't help but stare in awe.

"You may be right. I probably am mad. But you care for your people, don't you?" Jakon paused. "Good. Let's lay our cards out on the table. Let's say you disobey. Kyn gets word of this. He sends an army to retake the city. What do you think that army will be met with? Grateful Galians, happy to see their king has saved them? You underestimate me. I will burn with this city. I would be the Count of ashes before I this city up. You will tell Kyn that I am the new Count of Galios."

Orell said nothing. His eyes fell to the ground.

"I'll give you some time to think about it. But you know what your answer needs to be."

(More tomorrow!)

_________________
Jakon Vaegar
Count of Valtoros
Cariad of Valyria

Part 4

"You wouldn't actually burn the city, my lord, would you?" Sage asked.

Jakon chuckled. "Do you take me for an idiot? Of course I won't, but as long as Orell thinks I will then we're in business."

"But do you think he will really tell King Kyn that you are the rightful Count of Galios?"

"Probably not. But we don't need him for that."

"How do you mean, my lord?"

"When you want a child to take a bath, do you tell him to take a bath? No. You tell him he needs to take a bath and go to bed. Then, when you tell the child you'll let him stay awake if he'll take a bath, you're left with a child happy to soak himself clean."

Sage raised an eyebrow. "I don't follow, my lord."

"I don't need Orell to convince Kyn that I am the rightful Count. Orell has yet to declare an heir, death will solve that problem for me. I need him to announce to the people that I am his heir, so that the letter that is sent to Kyn is indistinguishable from the situation here at Galios."

"And you think that will work?"

Jakon took a moment. He stood at the edge of the cliff that the temple was on, and looked over the city. "I'm afraid we don't have a choice Sage. It has to work."

_________________
Jakon Vaegar
Count of Valtoros
Cariad of Valyria