The Sunset Kingdoms
War is a well-known trade in the lands of the Sunset Kingdoms.
During the time of the First Men, there had been hundreds of petty kings with their petty kingdoms that warred amongst each other, vying for supremacy. From these kingdoms, seven kingdoms rose to dominate all, the Kingdoms of the north, the reach, the rock, the Vale and Mountains, the stormlands, Isles and the Principality of Dorne.
When Edmyn Tully slew Harren 'the Black' Hoare, he did something that had not been seen for hundreds of years, he announced himself as King of the Trident and thus, adding a new kingdom into the warring continent of Westeros.
The Kingdom of the North, the Kingdom of the Reach, the Kingdom of the Storm, the Kingdom of the Rock, the Kingdom of the Mountain and Vale and finally, the Principality of Dorne.
Peace had always been a hard sought commodity among the seven kingdoms, constantly warring amongst themselves. The addition of another kingdom was surely to make things worse.
For Westeros only knew war.
***
10th Moon 123AD
The Blackwood histories said that in the distant past, the Blackwoods had been Kings of the Woods in the north before the Starks of Winterfell cast them out, out of the north and into the southern kingdoms. Those histories also said that the Starks had offered the Blackwoods to bend the knee and show them fealty, but they had refused and instead had travelled south with their remaining loyal bannermen and forged a kingdom for their own in these here lands.
Brandon couldn't help but always smile when he came across that particular moment of history of his House.
It was nice to know that the stubbornness of his lord father wasn't something that had just manifested itself in him out of the blue.
Their history also probably explained why he found winter to quite calming to him. Perhaps there was something about the snow, cold winds and dark clouds that stirred the blood of the north deep within him? It was certainly something nice to ponder about.
"Chu!" Wyl Blackwood sneezed out before wiping his nose with the back of a gloved hand. "Gods damn this blasted cold."
Well, it seemed that not all Blackwoods were as impevious as him when it came to the cold weather of winter. Lord Wyl Blackwood seemed to find it in him during times like this to catch a cough, although thankfully, he had yet to catch a cough serious enough to make him infirm.
"The maester says this winter will be over soon enough, father." Brandon said as they made their way through Raventree Hall's hallways, his cane making a distinct sound on the stone floors.
Clack, clack, clack.
His cane went with each and every step he took.
Father's expression soured. "Well, it's not ending fast enough."
"It will end when it ends, father."
A patient man, his lord father was most certainly not. If he could, he would have told winter itself to hurry up and be begone before it had taken a true hold over the lands. The Blackwood lands were located in the more northern regions of the riverlands, thus, when winter came, they felt it's bite sink deep and its grip upon their lands unrelenting. Even now, fields were covered in a blanket of snow that made it impossible for crops to be grown.
Once upon a time, they would have needed to supplement their stocks during winter by buying food from their more southernly neighbours, but with the machines of the king that helped with farming, their stocks were full to bursting and he was sure they would easily see to this winter. Easier than they had seen any winter before them.
It seemed Edmyn was good for something after all.
"What did the boy say about another publication?" Father asked, his tone twisting into distaste as he spoke of the boy.
The boy that House Blackwood called it's king.
Thankfully, father was safely ensconced in his own halls, safe from prying ears and eyes. His distaste for the king would have surely helped nobody. Let alone themselves when they were so close. "The first batch of our order would soon be published and be delivered to us by the next moon, depending on the weather." Brandon told his father.
"He allowed it?"
Brandon smiled at his lord father as they continued to walk, but this time, descending into the lower levels of Raventree Hall, where the dungeons were kept. "Oh, I'm sure he reads the books to be true. To him, they are nothing more than the history and traditions of the old gods and First Men. Histories and traditions the likes of the Blanetrees, Smallwood, Willows and their likes would surely be interested in. He allows the Faith to use his printing presses to publish their Seven-pointed Star, why not for us? Edmyn is a surprisingly understandable man."
They had at first feared that Edmyn would not allow such a thing, but much to Brandon's surprise, he had allowed the publishing of their first treatise on the old gods and their traditions. The king hadn't been all that plussed about the subject, pointing out that his subjects both included followers of the old gods and new. That he wasn't going to force people to worship gods they did not wish to worship.
Father had certainly been wrong about him being nothing more than a prancey Seven worshipping boy. Perhaps there was more to him.
"It would be easier if he gave us the secrets to his printing press." Father said as he pushed open a door. "But I fear that we will not be relying on him any longer for the future."
They entered the room, lit by several torches that cast a light that seemed out of place in the dark hallways that they had just left. Around the room, stacks of 'paper' as it was called was set about and several men awaited them in front of a large machine.
Father walked up to it and made a grunt. "I thought it would be smaller."
One of the men, long and lanky, spit into the ground. "We had to improvise as we made it. Some of the inner workings are still lost to us."
Brandon frowned. "Don't tell me it won't work, Pete."
"Oh, it will work."
Brandon and Wyl turned their heads to the corner of the room were a man of average height sat on top of a barrow. The man had the sort of face that could disappear in a crowd, weathered with time and his hair that of salt and paper. He was well-groomed that was for sure as there was no signs of a single face hair on his chin.
"Luthor." Father said the name neutrally.
Luthor, the man who had been causing some trouble around their lands and in others with his followers. Father's ally in this little...thing they had going on.
"My lords of Blackwood." The man said as he rose up, bowing as he did so. "A pleasure."
For a man that was supposedly nothing more than a smallfolk, he was well spoken. Brandon thought there was more to him, perhaps the son of a merchant or the likes. Why the man did what he did was beyond him though.
"Explain." Father cut in, not amused. "Is thing going to work or not?"
"It's going to work alright." Luthor told them, making his way towards the machine. "Will it be better than the machine that the Crown uses? No, but it will do the job. There is only so much Small Pete learned there before he left." He finished, placing a hand on the shoulder of the man that had been deeply involved in the building of the printing press.
Father appraised the man for a moment. "You built one of these things?"
"I helped some, m'lord." Small Pete replied, the usual deference one would have in front of a lord lost. "Not all, but some. The parts we assembled were already made, but I watched and learned as the mister asked me. Learned as much as I could and brought me knowledge back like that was asked of me."
Luthor smiled as he traced a finger on the machine. "Never worry, my lord for now, it is time for our message to be spread further and faster than my followers can speak. Our message of the bastardry of these men that would call themselves servants of the gods."
"I care nothing about that nonsense." Father scoffed. "What I care about is keeping those damned Seven-worshippers from spreading their filth and hypocrisy in my lands and that of my allies."
"And that is why we work with them, father." Brandon stepped forward, his cane making that sound as he did so. "We both seek the same thing. To protect ourselves. To question this Faith that would say the gods my family has worshipped for thousands of years are false and wrong. That the way that men like you and yours worship is wrong and heresy. They know nothing of us, yet they would tell us what to do with our Faith. I think it's time that changed, no?"
***
AN: Well, it's just one thing on top of another now isn't it? This should be fun.
I'll be seeing if I can do something like I did for the intro a little more regularly. Just to give some exposition on the world and all that I might not touch during the narrative.