A Song of Rock and Fire

Lanncaster Log 2
Meant to directly set up and go parallel to the next one

Toten rummaged through his clothes, throwing items he had just unpacked back into a trunk to be lugged north.

He clutched the letter from the king in his hand and threw another doublet in the trunk roughly.


He turned, seeing his wife propping herself against the doorway.

“Gabby, I…I was just getting things ready for the journey north.”

“It’s never going to be ready if you keep putting them in like that, Toten.”

He sighed. “I just got back, Gabby. I want to be here, in my father’s halls. With what happened with Lena…I feel surrounded by enemies. I’m not sure we should be leaving so soon. Especially with the children.”

Gabby put a hand on her husband’s broad shoulders. “Toten, if there’s two things that I’ve learned since coming here it’s one: that the Stormlands were aptly named. And two: that the rocks borne by those lands can withstand anything. This rock will keep. And so will we.”

Toten kissed her and gazed out the window before resuming his packing.

As the sun began to set in the west, Gabby settled in for bed.

“Are you coming, husband?”

“Not yet,” Toten sighed. “There are a few more things I must needs do.”

Toten left the chamber and walked through the halls, climbing up the great stone stairs to the upper level of the keep. He pulled open the door to his fathers’ chambers, stepping inside and breathing a sigh of relief. Ever since he’d returned here after his wedding, he’d felt at peace when within these walls. By rights he should have moved his own things here along with Gabby, taking the large space for himself, but that felt wrong to Toten. This space would always be his father’s.

He picked up the journal he’d found on the desk months ago, and moved to his favorite spot at the window seat and by the waning evening sun, Toten began to read.

Lanncaster Log

Rain pounded against the hardened stones of Rockfall as Toten Lanncaster walked through its gloomy halls, his heavy footfalls drowned out by the cascade. A heavy oaken door stood tall at the end of the corridor, large and imposing. Toten’s hand closed on the iron handle and pulled, the hinges creaking as the door swung open.

He entered his father’s chambers as a fork of lightning arched outside the window, bringing with it a flash or clarity. A desk. A bed. The abandoned hearth, ashes of some long burned out fire piled in it.

Toten placed a torch in a small sconce and moved to the desk. His fingers ran over some of the parchments still strewn over the wood, his hand stirring up months of dust. Toten hadn’t been able to bring himself to enter his fathers chambers since his death months ago, unable to face Natan’s last relics, and he had seldom had reason to enter there even beforehand.

The torch cast a flickering glow as Toten sat and blew dust away. The desk was full of papers detailing Toten’s wedding to Gabriella; arrangements, guest lists, dates, costs, last minute notes that his father must have been looking at the morning of his death. He shuffled through parchment until his fingers brushed one near the bottom, its edges frayed and torn.

Toten cleared away the pieces on top of it and blew off a layer of dust and flattening the large parchment with his hands before the light of the torch. A large sketch revealed itself, a depiction of a castle nestled against the foot of a mountain, small silhouettes patrolling its walls and working in its yards. In large letters below was spelled “Rockfall” and in the corner, in his fathers’ own hand, Lord Natan Lanncaster’s name was written.

Toten leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes, hands clutching the desk and relishing in the feel of his fathers’ chambers, knowing it was his duty to live up to the castle in his father’s mind, what it could become. He rolled up the parchment but as he did, dislodged a book that fell the floor. Toten reached down and picked it up, looking at the front page.

Toten’s eyes widened as he moved the window seat, the rain still falling from gray skies as he began to read…

Natan Lanncaster’s Journal,

On the morrow, I ride north with Robert and Ned, to face my fate upon the trident…

The Maester's Book of Feels

Maester Lons slowly made his way to the rookery. The It had always been his place of solitude, his sanctum. This business with the Lannister blood had shook the young Maester to his core. The jet black raven eyed him from across the room.
“Ah, Stonewing. It’s good to see you again.” The old bird cawed and hopped towards him. He pulled a handful of corn from one of his sleeves. “At least you still see to be fond of me.” he said solemnly. The bird tilted its head. “Toten seems to feel he’s misplaced his trust in me. I suppose sitting up here alone isn’t reinforcing his trust.” he added with a laugh. The bird quickly ate through the corn and tilted his head again. Lons briefly thought of the fact that the bird could simply be a skinchanger spying on the Lanncasters though he quickly dismissed the thought. Marwynn could be right, but this bird had been a confidant of his for years. This bird had been at Rockfall since before his service began, before he’d forged his ravenry link, even. The bird spread his wings and kicked up some dust in the room. “Ah, corn. Yes, it’s always the corn.” He pulled out another handful of corn and began writing a reply letter to his brother.

“Dearest brother,
I am deeply saddened to hear of mother’s passing. I have discussed this matter with Lord Toten and we will be arriving in Ashford before the week’s end. I will do my best to assist you, but you must know that my duties as a Maester take precedence. I will do my best to help you, however.
Best regards,
Maester Lons”

The Maester sealed the letter and sat for a moment looking out the window. A cold wind blew through the window. This letter was possibly the end of his relationship with his family. It wasn’t an outright rejection, but he knew it would be seen as a snub in the eyes of his sister and brother. The raven nuzzled against his hand as if to seal the choice for him. The maester attached the letter to the raven and sent him off, watching as the bird climbed to a cruising altitude, absent mindedly watching the slight movement of its feathers to control its flight as it raced into the bloody orange sunset. The cold wind gusted again and Stonewing fought nobly against the headwind. “Ravens and men aren’t as different as we think. We fight against the winds of change daily, yet sometimes that same wind carries us the next day.” The Maester shut the window and returned to his office. There were preparations to be made.

(Uh, what do I roll to make the worst OP post ever? Figured I’d give this a shot. Was a fun look into the Melee Maesters life.)

Welcome to your Adventure Log!
A blog for your campaign

Every campaign gets an Adventure Log, a blog for your adventures!

While the wiki is great for organizing your campaign world, it’s not the best way to chronicle your adventures. For that purpose, you need a blog!

The Adventure Log will allow you to chronologically order the happenings of your campaign. It serves as the record of what has passed. After each gaming session, come to the Adventure Log and write up what happened. In time, it will grow into a great story!

Best of all, each Adventure Log post is also a wiki page! You can link back and forth with your wiki, characters, and so forth as you wish.

One final tip: Before you jump in and try to write up the entire history for your campaign, take a deep breath. Rather than spending days writing and getting exhausted, I would suggest writing a quick “Story So Far” with only a summary. Then, get back to gaming! Grow your Adventure Log over time, rather than all at once.


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