Tammy
The Ice Lord Marshall Carter
Grand Stead's Conference Room

"As you can see, there's no formal entry around any of the peninsulas under the Brasses. We'll be able to transport no warships to Thunder Break without inciting a fight with them," The Ice Lord spoke, leaning over the conference table where a map of the Witherlands lay. The chambers were dimly lit with a few torches scare around the meeting. They had been at it for hours.

"Our ships outnumber theirs 6 to 2. We could storm over them in less than a day," Lord Henry Syreth added, running his hands through his pointed beard. 

"Brasses are bloodthirsty sons of whores, they love a good fight. Plus, they know their waters and land better than us. Defeating them at sea would be arduous, not to mention sieging the Horn Hills in the present climate would be no easy feat. Could take months," Lord Grenwich Greyholm commented, a grizzled man of 60, long in the tooth but still strong as a bull.

"Mayhaps we pardon the bastard and seek an alliance," Lord Archibald Quanderly of Quandervault suggested.

The whole room groaned and voiced their disproval. 

"No megalomaniacal tyrant, nor obstreperous war criminal will see the rebellion's end with impunity, or their heads," Marshall said, with an air of finality. The righteous fury was evident in his sharp blue eyes to his councilmen. 

"Then, if it please you, my Lord Ruler, extend correspondence with the older brother. It may be he can convince this David Brass to surrender and throw down his sword," Lord Quanderly said.

"Damien Brass is as spineless as the squid they display on their damned banners. We'll get no help from him," Marshall retorted. "This sea-urchin bastard will face justice, but he'll have to wait. We need to focus all our efforts on the Vivayn forces," The Ice Lord proclaimed.

"It is indeed so, my Lord Ruler," Lord Syreth moved to the centre of the map, pointing at the Gritline, a body of water that ran through the Region of Great Walk. "Angelo Torck led the defence against 300 Vivayn infantrymen. 233 Vivayn soldiers dead, the rest sent scurrying back in retreat. Minimal casualties for the Royal Army. A great victory," He declared, amassing positive response from the conference room. 

The Ice Lord didn't seem so convinced, wearing that same stoic expression. "Nathaniel Vivayn will weep no tears in this loss. His men, they're like meat to him. Meat he can throw at hungry wolves and watch how they devour it," Marshall said, meticulously analysing the map, his smoke-black hair falling down to his eyes. "Vivayn had no intention of marching past Snowhall. He was tethering the line; seeing how far he could push it." 

"Well then we're at an impasse. Neither armies are willing to mobilise to a neutral location, lest they face the costs of giving the opposition an advantage," Lord Greyholm announced. 

"Then what is to be done?" Asked Henry Syreth. 

The room fell quiet, save for the faint crackling of torches. 

"We set Felix on him," Marshall said, turning every head in the room at him. 

"You can't seriously be considering sanctioning this mission, my Lord Ruler?" Lord Quanderly asked, bemused. 

"Felix Carter is one of the most capable battle commanders in the world. No matter the losses he suffered, he still managed to out-maneuver me across the entire war. If there's any man alive to attack Wingsway, retrieve Kierra and the others, and kill that soulless skeleton, it's him," Marshall said unwaveringly.

"One of the most capable *Battle* Commanders in the world. Do you believe he could lead a mission such as this?" Lord Greyholm enquired. 

"I believe when he's hells bent on something, nothing can stop him," There was a pause, "Except me." There was an exchange of look amongst the officers and lords in attendance. "Nathaniel can't plan for an attack he doesn't know that is coming," The Ice Lord stated. 

"Do you really trust him though, my Lord Ruler?" Lord Syreth asked.

Marshall looked at him blankly. "Of course I don't. He severed any trust long ago. But should he fall... It'll just be two traitors massacring each other," He said, putting the Snow Leopard figurine atop Wingsway. "That's enough for today. This meeting is adjourned. Start rallying your troops, my Lords," Marshall finished. The councilmen bowed and shared their graces before departing. "Not you," He said to his nephew without looking at him. Chaol had uttered but a word throughout the duration of the meeting. Marshall looked around the now all-but-empty conference room. "You barely said anything," Marshall mused, as he rolled up the parchment the map was on. "*Something* On your mind?" He asked, in an almost ridiculing fashion.
Gloria
Duke Chaol Kyvall Demott
Grand Stead's Conference Room

The days had merged into one long night at this point, and Chaol couldn't tell one from the next. It was the drag of not knowing, the frustration of being told to sit still and the anger at the Frozen Gods- if to the hells they existed for making it this way. For the young Duke, it was crippling, and his mother did nothing to help. Come to think of the woman, he hadn't seen her since his Uncle had sent the Vivayn forces back from Thunderbreak. Perhaps it was for the best that way, his mother had a knack for self absorbed narcissism, and he hadn't the patience for it. 

Kierra was gone. He didn't even know what state she was in. After Vivayn had threatened to flay her at the gates, Chaol couldn't imagine what it had been like for her behind closed doors. *How could he have missed it? How could he have been stupid enough to give her away despite seeing firsthand the anomaly to humankind that Nathaniel was?*

As if Kierra being held wasn't enough, he had received word that the party transporting his wife and two sons had been found surrounded by the bodies of men he'd sent for their protection. With only the snow crow banner hanging from the overturned carriage, he knew that the fucker had taken them too. They would've been safer with him anyway, like Natalya had insisted. *Why hadn't he listened to her? Why didn't he trust himself to protect them? Why did he insist on sending them away?*

It seemed every decision he made as Duke lead to more chaos, or the decisions that mattered to him did. The voices at the meeting all synchronised, he was growing too used to hearing them. All talk, and nothing. They decided what they wanted and he could do **Nothing**. The matter of the Brass skirmish was the least of his worries, he had bigger fish to fry and he didn't give two fucks about any Horn Hilled fucker, not whilst Vivayn still lived.

He expected a march, a battle strategy, something of substance. Yet somehow, it seemed his Uncle Felix was to be the answer? If he hadn't been surrounded by elders, he would have scoffed. Yes, his Uncle was brilliant at what he did, but he was also an unreliable turncoat who plunged the lands into a Civil War- over *Nothing*. His finger traced his wedding band as he moved to leave, only to be stopped before he could step out from the table. Marshall's tone reminded him like that of a teacher, keeping behind a bad-behaved child after class. The chamber emptied, and his uncle spoke. Now that there were no spectators, his solemn look morphed into one of curiosity. *Not said a word- something on his mind* Was he trying to infuriate him? 

Tongue in cheek, he shook his head.

"Nothing, Uncle. Other than that my sister is married to a sadistic skeleton who has marched on me and taken hostage my wife and infant sons. So you know, just the usual. Nothing more, nothing less." His words were sharp, and he took a moment to remind himself just where he was and how he was supposed to act. Only the moment he did, he wondered why, and dropped it again. "I don't have anything to say. You tell me to sit still and wait, so that's what I'm doing. I've fought before but I've never had any experience with battle tactics. This is all the domain of your men, so what am I meant to say at these meetings when months have passed and we are no closer to getting *Any* Of my family back!" He shook his head. Pale hands reaching to swipe his face before blue eyes met blue once again. "Apologies, my Lord Ruler, but Uncle Felix isn't what I'd call our best efforts. How much longer am I meant to sit and wait behind these walls whilst that fucker has his grip on my *Wife*, my *Sister* And my *Children*? Until he sends me their heads?" A scoff, as he balled his hands into fists by his sides and inhaled deeply. It had to be a joke.
Gabriel
Lord David Brass Self Named King Of The Seas/ Thorod Lockbeard 
Brass Fighting Pits, The Horn Hills

David Brass had looked down with a grin across his face he had thoughts to himself *That's my champion unless he falls to another, that won't happen this day Thorod is many things but a fool isn't one of them* ,Thorod has stood over the others potential fighters, the Silverstep's blood all across the Lockbeards chest and his long bearded face, it had been a sight to behold, truly a message had been sent that this was a contest of survival.

Thorod had then wondered over to a near by barrel filled with schwarzbier also known as black beer, he had brought the large barrel of schwarzbier himself it had been one of the few drinks that he truly enjoyed, he had lifted the barrel over his head and he started chugging it, then after a good minute and a half of chugging the schwarzbier down his large throat, he then had poured the dark liquid all over himself.

The dark liquid poured all over the Titans body the blood started to wash off not smoothly thought most of the blood had been gone, once he had finished emptying the large barrel of schwarzbier, he then let the large barrel drop once the barrel had been emptied by his thirst, it caused a great thud once the barrel hit the ground, he then slowly walked back into the fighting pits.

The wind had began bowing heavily a bitter cold wind as Thorod stood tall in the centre of the pits, some of the Sliversteps's blood and schwarzbier still slowly dripped off Thorod's body on to the mud covered ground, David grinned from ear to ear as he called out "After such a brutal display we must have another!" The crowd cried out in the area hungry for more bloodshed and violence, David called out once again his voice filled with pride "To all the fighters if you wish to leave, this is your final chance to do so, if not all fighters enter the fighting pits NOW!"

David smirked at Thorod as he thought to himself *This will be a grand test and it will be interesting to see how many Thorod will defeat, or how many will just left dead on the ground*.
"Let this be a fight of survival, you will fight for The Horn Hills or you will die for The Horn Hills, the seas will welcome your body's in her embrace if you fall this day, as her King I speak for our sea fight well warriors" He finished his speech as the crowd roared in approval.

He had sat back into his seat, Thorod had just sniffed in response to David's words and stood in the centre of the fighting pits, as he waited for whoever had been left to face him, he had the chance to think to himself *Our Sea King loves to hear himself talk*, he looked up to David as he finished his thoughts *He has the people though I'll give the basterd that, I wonder how many will have to fall by hands this day*.

David had felt a hand patting his back, he had slowly turned his head around in response, to only see a the well dressed visitor that had been stood before him, he then seen the sigil on the visitors guardsmen armour, David thought to himself as he half listen to the outsiders words, *House Vivayn has sent this gentleman, this outsider to see me, well I knew one of two battling Houses would arrive seeking my help, I practically own the seas after all, but this sooner then I thought it would be, the war must be going bad or something like that if they need my help this soon*.

He had chuckled slightly at the end of the man's induction as did his guardsmen, he stood up from his chair and patted Reginald's his back in return, the pat had been firm but not too hard, he looked into Seneschals eyes and said with a chuckle "Of course he does, come then join me and watch the fights".

David had sat down in his large chair and looked to his guardsmen "You boys are dismissed, I have the mighty snow crows men watching over me, go to the lower leaves, incase any of the thralls get bold enough to try to escape doing this fight for survival", the two Brass guardsmen looked at the Vivayn guardsmen for a moment, then both nodded to their king of the seas "We live and die by the sea" Both the gaurdsmen had declared slightly tipsy, as they went down the stairs leaving their king alone with the outsiders.

David swirled his Brass cup in his left hand, the brass cup had his houses sigil burned into it's side, "Do you wish for a drink the brave representative off Nathaniel Vivayn?" He questioned Reginald before he had added quickly, "One of my many whores can serve one to you" He had then tapped his hand right on his chair as he continued his words to Reginald "If you wish dear guest, you may take one of then with you, it most of been a long journey, from wherever you came from to get to our grand island, to get to The Horn Hills".

He then suddenly sighed deeply he hadn't given much time for the Arch Seneschals to answer his questions, he had then said in a less welcoming tone "Let's be honest men for a moment, what does the snow crow wish from us, me and my people I mean, be blunt with me if you wish, but if he wants my aid in this war of a block of ice I don't care for, and right now I don't care either side they have given me no reason to both have looked down at House Brass for a good while now" His words as blunt as a rusty knife, "Non respected us for a great many years, mostly thanks to my disappoint of a older brother, but another reason was that House Carter grew proud, as did the other northern houses their pride made them forget who fought along side them,House Brass wasn't a name even spoken of in the north anymore, until I took what was mine at Thunder Break then everyone noticed us again, the Demotts definitely will remember our names" He had said proudly.

"A Brass doesn't do something for nothing" He had said this in stern tone as he drunk from his cup filled with ale, he then looked at the man unblinking "Understand me" His almost commanding words lingers for a moment the only sound of the cold wind bitter wind had been heard for that moment in time, the King of the Seas gaze upon the outsider *He sends his regards my ass*, he thought bitterly as he awaited Reginald's response to his many questions and statement.