#breakspiration

[myfirstbreakcharacter]

BREAK!!-THRU GAMES

BREAK!! Tacit Holistic Recruitment Understanding is an agreement that GMs can run open or semi-open games under. The idea is to allow people to play as much as they want in pickup games and different campaigns using the BREAK!! rules, since everyone's so excited with this cool new toy. You can start at 1st Rank in one game, be in a totally different group later that night, and a third group tomorrow before joining your initial group again next week. Your current Hearts, Gear, Coins, Inventory Slots, and other fluctuating values will stay consistent from session to session just as if there's a contiguous campaign and single GM. When looking for Players, GMs can SIGNAL whether their games accept BREAK!!-THRU characters. Players may look for a BREAK!!-THRU game by searching for that tag specifically.

There's three levels of BREAK!!-THRU accordance that you can SIGNAL.

RED means you want to specifically tout that your game is NOT accepting of BREAK!!-THRU characters. No passers-by, just looking for dedicated regular players.

GOLD means that you are open for BREAK!!-THRU characters but you have some stipulations, such as limiting a number of magic items you can bring from another game, or restricting certain species or callings. This is a "Yes, but..." announcement about what you are flexible about and inflexible about, and should always have a tad more detail than the other Signals.

BLUE means that anything goes. Anyone can come from anywhere and bring anything and play anyhow, with the understanding that a given GM is not bound by the rulings or interpretations of a previous GM and may even ignore certain other rules at their discretion. A powerful magic item would be allowed but may work slightly differently, as might a spell, or a complex battle maneuver.

There are three overriding principles to the BREAK!!-THRU.

1. Promote the game and its creators and GMs through active play

2. Promote active play through community/cooperation

3. Promote community/cooperation through safety and acceptance

This doesn't mean you have to just let anything happen that could ruin someone else's good time. It just means openness and transparency before the game begins, and patience and communication once the game has begun. And sometimes a given game just won't be your Thing and there's no shame in that. Spin the wheel and play again!

[and-claudia]

Bound by Winter (Spencer Agnew x fem! Reader) Part 3

Word Count: 5800+

Warnings: Language, slow burn, there are also switches from first person to third person point of views to give a glimpse of what happening in Spencer's head some

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Bound by Winter Masterlist

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header made by yours truly

Snow blanketed the ledges of Caerwatch Keep in thick folds, muting the sound of boots on stone. Inside the war hall, the hearth blazed high, but the air remained taut—sharp with steel and strategy.

It had been a week since the wedding. A week of being the new Lady Agnew. 

Spencer and I had not yet shared a bed. He continued to sleep in the same chair that first night. Truth be told, I don’t think either of us were ready to address it. Luckily, though he silences between us were no longer icy, just... tentative. Like a truce that hadn’t quite become trust.

My days were filled with the dull routines of acclimating to northern customs: bitter root soups, bone-chilling baths, and silent corridors. But the lull didn’t last. By the seventh morning, horns had sounded.

War had arrived at the doorstep.

Soon, I found myself sat at a long oaken table beside Spencer—unusual for a lady, and doubly so for a southern one. Still, no one had asked me to leave.

Across the table stood Ian Hecox, Lord Commander of the Northern Watch—grim-eyed, solid as a fortress. He’d come down from the Frostmark Barracks with a hundred men and two thousand more at his back. His tone was clipped, cold.

Thankfully, before the meeting, Spencer had done me the courtesy of giving me a rundown of who would be in attendance at this meeting. 

“We cannot hold the Breakspire Pass if we split forces. We need one direct push north of the River Graves.”

“And leave the village of Timbermere exposed?” Lady Courtney Miller leaned in, golden hair braided back in thick rows, her eyes sharp. “If we lose Timbermere, we lose the grain lines. Then we’re marching on empty bellies.”

“Then we bleed them dry now,” Ian said. “We lure the southern forces into the ice fields before they’re ready.”

The room argued—force against caution, honor against advantage.

I listened quietly until a map was rolled out, inked with trade routes and terrain lines. My gaze flicked to the forest roads behind Caerwatch. How had no one mentioned them yet?

“What about using the Hollow Creek path?” I said suddenly, voice clear over the low rumble of men’s voices. “It’s narrow, but if we reinforce it and draw the enemy west—away from Timbermere—we can strike from two sides.”

The room fell into stunned silence. All eyes turned to me.

Spencer stared too, mouth slightly open. Even Ian's brow quirked in surprise.

Lady Courtney stepped forward, curious. “That’s a clever strategy. Hollow Creek’s a beast to maneuver—but if we can trap them in the bend…”

Ian looked toward Spencer. “Your wife’s clever. Why didn’t you mention she was trained in tactics?”

Spencer blinked. “She… wasn’t.”

I tried to hide the slight smile that threatened to show at surprising the men in the room.

The rest of the meeting went as smoothly as a war preparation meeting could go. Details of which men would and wouldn’t go. When they would leave. Would it be better to travel by foot or horseback? And lastly, who would lead the attack? That is when my ears perked back up. 

“I will lead my men, myself, thank you,” Spencer said the Ian, who simply nodded. 

It was odd. The way my heart clenched upon hearing those words. Sure, he was my husband, but that word felt more like just another title for him. There was no love behind it. Just the title. Sure, the two of us had grown somewhat closer. Not lovers, or even friends, but there was something there… I think. 

The meeting concluded, and it was just about time for dinner. Spencer had extended an invitation for the others to join, which they obviously accepted. 

“May I?” Spencer asked, offering me his arm, clearly a formality in front of our guest. 

Before I was able to answer or take his arm, Lady Courtney stepped between us. 

“Actually, I am going to escort your wife to dinner, I have much to discuss with her.” She said, linking my arm with hers. 

“Sure, go right ahead, steal my wife,” Spencer said, watching us walk away. 

“Already did!” Courtney shot over her shoulder before we slipped out the door. 

“Have you known Lord Agnew long?” I asked, curious about their banter. 

“We’ve worked on a handful of battle strategies before… But I assure it’s nothing more than a friendship between us two. I have… eyes for another, let's just say.” She explained, and I nodded, feeling a small weight lifted off my shoulders. 

“Anyways, I wanted to know if you’ve ever been in battle before? You clearly know a thing or two about war strategy.” She asked. 

“Oh, I’m afraid that is where my war experience ends. I’ve never fought in battle or even traveled with an army before. Back during the last war, my father always left me home with my Septa. I’ve never even actually held a sword. Closest I’ve gotten is when my Uncle Link gave me a dagger for my 14th namesday. But I’ve never even used that for anything besides display.” I explained, slightly embarrassed, seeing as I was talking to a woman who clearly has fighting experience. 

“I figured. I wanted to offer to spar and train with you, should you ever want to. The north is known for its warriors, but they’re all men. And boy, do they love tradition up here. A woman? Fighting? Forget it. Us women have to help ourselves usually. No man here will train with you…not even your husband… so if you want to learn to swing a sword, come to me.” She said with a kind smile. 

“Thank you. I will definitely keep that in mind.” I said, returning the smile. 

Dinner went well. I knew how these things went, having attended hundreds of post-meeting dinners with my father. Everyone shifts and pretends like the meeting never happened. Even just for a little bit. It was just easier. 

Luckily, I had figured out which dishes were… decent… to eat and tried to stick to those during the meal as I sat beside Spencer. Everyone stayed for another round of ale after everyone had finished eating before retiring to their respective chambers. This time, Spencer had waited for everyone to leave before us, and when we left, he didn’t offer me his arm. Simply turned and headed towards our chambers. 

Once we got there, Spencer went about his normal routine of removing his cloak, putting it on the chair before preparing for bed. I beat him to the washroom first, however, and changed into my night gown. When I came out, I found him sitting at the edge of the bed, still tugging the ties from his boots. I said nothing as I walked past him and sat down at the vanity. I began brushing out my hair for bed, and I could feel his gaze flicking towards me in the mirror ever so often. 

“Hollow Creek,” he said. “That was impressive.”

I smirked faintly. “Don’t sound so surprised.”

“You stunned Ian Hecox. That man hasn’t blinked since the last frost.” The faintest hint of impression in his tone. 

I set the brush down and turned in the chair to look at him. “When I was small, my father used to bring me to all his war councils. He thought I wasn’t paying attention—let me sit on his lap, eating honeyed nuts while men planned sieges.”

Spencer tilted his head, curiosity sparking. “You were listening?”

I nodded. “Every single word.”

Spencer grinned softly, almost amused. “Your father’s going to regret letting you go.”

You looked over your shoulder at him. “He already does… I know inviting me to the meeting today was just common courtesy, but I know the southerners. I know my father's and uncle’s tactics and war strategies. I also know what the other armies are like. They were my father's former allies. They have told me their secrets, and they don’t even know it. I think I could be a real asset to future plans.” I said, suddenly not wanting to meet his. 

The moment stretched. He didn’t quip back. Just looked at me—like he was seeing something new, something unfolding. And finally, he nodded. 

“I definitely won’t be the one to bar you from returning.” He said, getting up and heading over to the chair as he had every single night since our wedding night. 

I finished brushing my hair and went over to the bed, but I hesitated. My eyes glanced over at Spencer as he blew out the last candle besides mine, and turned towards the chair. 

“That thing can’t be comfortable.” I said. 

He shrugged, “I’ve slept on worse. Had to share a cave floor with Damien once. That was rough, but I guess it beat freezing to death.” 

“You can sleep in the bed,” I said quietly as if it were a sin that must be kept a secret. 

He wavered in his decision for a moment. I swear I could see the silent debate going on in his mind. 

“It’s alright. I don’t want to intrude. The chair is just fine. Better than being forced to cuddle up to Damien.” He tried joking again, but I was beginning to see through his shield of humor and sarcasm, not fully, but pinholes were appearing, and I was looking right into one right now. 

“You’re about to ride into battle in a few days. It’ll be hard to lead your men if you have a sore back. I’ve noticed you stretching it in the mornings. Please. We’re married. Married people share a bed… I will be fine.” I said. 

He hesitated but slowly approached the other side of the bed. His movements were quiet and calculated, almost as if he moved too fast, I’d get spooked and retract the offer. 

I slowly pulled back the furs and climbed in, sticking to my respective side of the bed as he did the same. Both of us lay there with our backs to one another. I can’t speak for him, but I was trying to convince myself that he wasn’t there. That I wasn’t sharing a bed with a man. But I found it hard as the heat radiated off of him. 

Third Person PoV

Spencer woke earlier than usual. The sun had just risen, but he decided to go ahead and get up. We had a war to prepare for. The first of many battles would be fought in less than a week. There was much to do. 

He carefully got out of the now shared bed where his wife still lay asleep. The pair had drifted closer in the night. Spencer even had his hand resting gently on her hip when he had awoken, but he decided not to dwell on it too much as he gently retracted it. Instead, he got up and prepared for the day. Once he was dressed, he slipped out of their chambers, but not without stealing one last glance at his wife as she stirred slightly and began waking up. 

First Person PoV 

When my eyes opened, Spencer was no longer here. However, the residual heat he left in the bed was. I noticed that I was now practically on his side of the bed, and began to worry that I had moved that close while he was still hear. However, as I got up and made my way to the washroom, I convinced myself I moved over after he got up, searching for the heat he left behind. That had to be it. 

Today felt like it would be my first day of really being Lady Agnew. I was being escorted into one of the small mountain villages to recruit women for bandage-making. I knew we all hoped we wouldn’t need them, but once the men returned, we would. 

Ser Damien was escorting me, along with a couple of House Agnew soldiers. It was odd. I used to walk around Seastar Hold alone. But then again, I was only the daughter of a Lord then, now I was the Lady of House Agnew. I had a duty to uphold… eventually… so I needed to have some form of protection. 

The women of the village weren’t rude; they weren’t particularly kind either. They all agreed to begin, or continue, making bandages and having them brought to the keep, where first aid would be provided for any wounded fighters. On our way back, I decided to ask Ser Damien about his views on their attitude towards me. 

“Do you think they hated me?” I asked him as he walked beside me, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword casually. 

“No… I just think they’re weary of you still. They know they are to respect you, you’re their Lady after all, but they don’t know you. You’re not from here, so they haven’t gotten a good grasp on who you are. But they’ll come around soon. Perhaps they’ll even warm up to you before your husband does.” He teased, making me laugh slightly. 

“Wouldn’t that be something?” I said. 

When we arrived back at the keep, there was a guard waiting for us as soon as we entered. 

“Lady Yn, Ser Damien, there is a war council meeting. Your presence is requested.” He said. 

I nodded, “Thank you, I will be there shortly.” I said, dismissing the guard. 

“Well, duty calls.” Ser Damien said before we both turned and began heading to the meeting. 

When I entered, the now-familiar smell of pine smoke filled my nose. A few heads turned to me as I walked further in. There were more men here than there were at the previous meeting, and I didn’t recognize most of them. The table now held multiple maps, pinned down by goblets of wine and riding gloves that were still damp from snow, meaning most of these men had just arrived. 

I walked past them and took a seat next to Spencer. 

“As I was saying,” a grizzly-looking northern man began, “We’ll lose men trying to cross the east river bend. That gully floods like a bastard come thaw.” 

Ser Damien, who had taken another seat at the other end of the table, was quick to respond, “Better than your idea, Lord Todd, of charging head-on through Hollow Creek itself and hoping the gods give us wings.” 

Spencer said nothing and just let the two men bicker back and forth for a moment as he watched with his arms crossed. Once I figured he was definitely not going to say anything, I decided to. 

“What if we bait them into thinking we’ll go through Hollow Creek—then collapse the ridge above the riverbend instead?” I asked, keeping my voice level. 

Lord Todd scoffed at my question, “Oh? The lady’s read a map or two and thinks she’s a general now?”

I didn’t falter at his insult. Instead, I stood from my chair and walked over to a map that clearly showed the bend in question. I tapped the area I was talking about with my finger. 

“Two barrels of pitch. Light them atop the ridge. The snow melts, the mud slides, the ridge collapses. Their cavalry has nowhere to go. You don’t have to like it—but you can’t pretend it wouldn’t work, Lord Todd.” I said, looking directly at the man. 

The room fell silent. The only sound was coming from the cracking of the fire in the hearth. I could feel everyone's eyes on me. 

“Well, I’d ride behind her. She’s got sharper eyes than half the commanders in this room.” Lady Courtney’s voice broke through the silence. 

“She’s got a better grasp on northern mudslides than Todd, that’s certain,” Spencer added. 

Laughter erupted through the room, save for Lord Todd, who muttered something while sipping wine from his goblet. I looked back down the table to Spencer. He wasn’t smiling with impression, his face was neutral. He did give me a single nod, though, as if to say “I respect you.” And that was good enough for me. 

The meeting continued, and I stayed quiet until the topic of the preparation of the keep was addressed. 

“How are preparations for here going?” Spencer asked. 

“Good. Food supply is more than enough for the time being, though they will need to be replenished in the coming month or so. I have also recruited the smallfolk women of the villages to prepare bandages for the wounded. I planned on meeting with the maester tomorrow to check his medicine supply as well.” I said. 

Spencer nodded, “Good. That is all for tonight. Everyone should get some rest, eat something warm. Enjoy it while we have it.” 

I waited with Spencer as everyone else filed out. Once they were gone, he turned to me.

“The maester needs your help with something.” 

I nodded for him to continue. 

“Your father and uncle have written to us about their plans. Only issue is, we don’t understand a damn thing the letters say. Your father’s letter is mostly deciphered, and only a few key parts are missing. Your uncle’s, however… I am starting to wonder if he won all his battles by writing to the enemy about his plans and attacked while they were trying to read what it said. His handwriting is horrible.” He explained. 

I couldn’t help but laugh. 

“His is pretty bad… I can help read them. I have been doing it for years.” I said. 

“Good, no use having allies if you can’t understand them.” He said as he stood. 

I stood as well and followed him out. We ate dinner together, just the two of us. 

“How did the villagefolk treat you?” He finally asked, after setting down his mug of ale. 

“About like you do. I don’t think they hated me, but they weren’t welcoming me with warm hugs and affection.” I said. 

He nodded, “Are there bets in place? I would like in on it if there are.” 

“Not that I am aware of. Check with Ser Damien, if anyone had bets, it’d be him.” 

He didn’t quite laugh, but he did exhale in amusement and tried to hide his smirk behind his mug of ale. Once dinner was finished, we both returned to our chambers and went about our own nightly routines. However, this time there was no discussion on where he was going to sleep. He simply went to his side and climbed in, being sure to leave a large gap between the two of us. 

The day before the troops were set to move out was filled with last-minute preparations of the keep. None of us expected the southern enemies to make it this far north, but still, preparations had to be made. One such preparation was ensuring that the walls were all secured, which included going out and observing it yourself. This task was usually left to the Lord of the keep, but Spencer had extended an invitation for me to join him. 

I met him in the stables, dressed to ride. Which surely surprised him. I was not in a dress like I had always been around him. Instead, I had a pair of dark brown riding pants. They were tailored perfectly to my figure, very uncommon for a Lady to wear, but far more practical for riding, especially up north. I tucked the ends of them into a pair of riding boots I had brought with me. Up top, I was wearing a simple cream colored tunic underneath a dark pine green wool coat. The coat was a gift from Angela, and it fit me beautifully. It was cut just past the hips and cinched at the waist with a braided leather belt, and lined with silver fox fur along the collar and cuffs. Lastly, I had on the light cloak that Spencer had gifted me. 

He glanced up.

Paused.

Then tilted his head.

“Well. That’s one way to scandalize half the northern court.” He smirked, clearly impressed, “Didn’t think they made trousers that sharp south of the river.”

I shrugged, mounting with ease, “They don’t. These were made here, actually. You Northerners may lack manners, but your tailors are miracle workers.”

His grin widened.

“Careful, wife. Say a few more things like that, and I might start to enjoy your company.”

I smiled to myself slightly as I followed him out of the keep and down the snow-lined road. The walls of the Hold itself had already been inspected and were ready; we were going out to the walls that surrounded the handful of small villages near the Hold. When we got to the gate of the outer wall, Spencer gave a single nod, and they were opened for us. 

A memory of hearing tales of Spencer’s past… companions crossed my mind as my horse walked through the gate. Rumors of them disappearing in the thick pine woods had spread across Virelia more than once. 

“This isn’t the part where you lead me to the forest and leave me for dead, is it?” I asked teasingly, but I would be lying if there wasn’t a small part of me that was a little scared. 

“Why would you say that?” He asked, a slight knowing tone edging his voice. 

“I’ve heard rumors…” I said I wasn't sure if I should specify the rumor or not. 

“Ah, yes. My last lover, who disappeared into the frost, not a trace was left. Is that the rumor you’re referring to?” He asked. 

I said nothing. 

“Well, to be honest, I wouldn’t call her a lover. She was a whore. A whore I never even touched. Ser Damien thought it would be a fun surprise to send a whore to my chambers for my names day a few years ago… truth be told I prefer to select my whores myself. I prefer the ones who don’t know who I am, that I was heir to the longest-lasting keep in all of Virelia, that I carried an ancient and powerful name. And she clearly did, seeing as he had sent her to my chambers… I didn’t want to embarrass her, so I waited until it was dark, escorted her out here, and sent her back to where she had come from. She was sent with warm clothes, food, and a horse. She was not abandoned.” He explained. 

“Oh… why didn’t you tell people that?” I asked curiously. 

He shrugged, “Sometimes it's just better to let others believe whatever they want to believe.” 

I only nodded. 

“What about the rumors I’ve heard about you?” He asked after a moment. 

“There are rumors about me? All the way up here?” I asked, slightly shocked. 

“There are rumors about everyone, everywhere. You’re no different. In fact, I’ve heard that you have a few nicknames… I’ve heard some whispers about The Bastard of Brightmere… does that ring a bell?” He asked, eyeing from where he rode beside me. 

“Many, I am afraid… I am sure you’re aware that I am a legitimized bastard. My father had a long relationship with a whore… he told me stories of their times together, he truly loved her and wanted to marry her but he knew he couldn’t. She got pregnant with me, and he promised to be there for the child and support both of them. By this point, he was being forced to search for a bride and had entered a courtship. He had to leave to meet with the father of his intended; my mother was still a couple moons from being due, so he wasn’t too worried about her. But she began to have labor pains the day after he left. I was born the following day, and she passed. When he arrived, he went to see my mother, to check on her, only to find that she had had the baby early and didn’t make it. He took me with him to the keep and wrote two letters. One to king to legitimize me as his rightful daughter and heir. The second to call off his engagement.” I explained, trying to keep my tone even. 

Spencer halted his horse beside me, causing me to do the same. 

“It wasn’t a diplomatic move?” He asked. 

I shook my head, “He loved my mother. And he had promised to support her and the child they were having. He wasn’t able to support her, so he’d be damned if he didn’t support his daughter. Until the threat of war began, I was told I would be able to marry whenever and whoever I wanted… that’s one of the few things my father ever backed out of on me.” 

“I am assuming I wasn’t what you had in mind?” He quipped, trying to lighten the mood. 

“Oh no, I always dreamed of being wed to a brooding northern lord who was late to our wedding.” I shot back, trying to sound serious but failing slightly. 

“Well,l I am glad to be your knight in shining armor.” 

“Yeah, something like that.” 

We continued to ride, inspecting any loose parts of the wall and taking note of where they were to send men out to fix them. It didn’t take long, and we were soon on our way back.

The wind bit at my cheeks, but I didn’t mind. The snow had lightened, drifting like sifted flour over the ever-white road back to Caerwatch. The sound of hoofbeats echoed through the pines, muffled by the snow underfoot. Spencer rode just ahead, his breath visible in the cold, his silhouette framed by the distant, brooding towers of the keep.

We hadn’t spoken much after inspecting the damaged east wall, but the silence had grown… companionable. Not quite warm, but no longer sharp-edged either.

Then I noticed it — his horse eased into a quicker trot, deliberate, measured. A glance over his shoulder, that familiar flicker of sarcasm dancing in his eyes.

“You know, you southerners ride as slow as you talk,” he called over his shoulder.

I narrowed my eyes, “We just don’t need to prove ourselves every time we mount a horse.”

“Mm. Sounds like something someone losing would say.”

He nudged his mare again — not quite a gallop, but just enough to pull ahead. The challenge was subtle. Infuriatingly smug.

I nudged my own steed, matching pace easily.

He heard me gain on him and didn’t look back. Just pressed forward, smug bastard.

I grinned, heart quickening. Fine.

I leaned forward, whispered encouragement to my horse, and let her go.

The cold air knifed past my ears as we surged forward. Snow kicked up behind me. I heard Spencer curse, then laugh — really laugh — and chase after me, his voice echoing through the trees. 

“You’re cheating!” I heard him holler, and I swear I could hear the smile in his voice. 

“You’re just slow!” I shot over my shoulder at him. 

We thundered over the ridge, hooves hammering frozen earth. For a moment, it felt like I could fly, cloak snapping behind me, cheeks flushed with speed and something dangerously close to joy.

I reached the outer gates first, breathing hard, laughing as I pulled the reins to slow.

Spencer arrived seconds later, panting, curls wind-tossed and eyes alight.

“You are unreasonable,” he said between breaths.

“You’re just bitter.” I teased. 

He chuckled lowly, shaking his head. For once, he didn’t have a retort. Just that rare, crooked half-smile I’d come to recognize — the one that meant I’d surprised him.

And for once… it felt good. 

“I suggest you change out of those clothes soon.” He finally said after we brought our horses back to the stables. 

“Why? Are you afraid of the wondering eyes of northern men eyeing your wife?” I teased, still riding the high of winning. 

“No, I don’t want to have to explain to those northern men that my wife died of hypothermia from the snow melting from her clothes.” He shot back. 

I cursed under my breath because he had a good point, and I had no retort to fire back. 

“Fine, and what about the snow on your clothes, Lord Agnew?” I asked. 

“I will be staying out in the snow, training, and I will be fine for now. I will change before I meet you for dinner this evening. I’d hate to leave the whole north in the hands of someone rumored to have had a love affair with one of her father’s knights.” He said before turning swiftly and walking towards the training yard. 

I was left stunned… how had he heard about that? 

I made a mental note to ask him about that later and turned to head inside. Once I made it to my chambers, Angela was already there waiting for me to arrive to help me change out of the clothes I was wearing. And though I hate to admit it, Spencer was right. Once I came inside, the warmth was melting the snow that was caked to my riding pants, and it was already making me quite cold. 

The second I walked in and Angela saw the caked-on snow melting, she whistled lowly. 

“Well, well. You went riding — and came back looking like you won something. Which means you either outran Lord Agnew or finally saw him smile.”

I rolled my eyes, kicking off my boots by the door.

“He started it.”

“Oh gods, that definitely means you won.”

She flounced over with a smug look on her face, arms crossed. “Tell me everything. Did you two race like proper nobles or did you just tear across the snow like unhinged children?”

“Children,” I muttered, taking off my cloak. “Definitely unhinged.” 

Angela laughed, then squinted at me.

“And you’re smiling. That’s new.” She said, taking the cloak from me as I began to take off the coat. 

I looked down, pretending to focus deeply on the buttons of the coat.

“It was just a race. He said I was slow. I proved him wrong.”

“A duel of horses and pride. How terribly romantic,” she said with a dramatic sigh. “Tell me, did he stare after you with wind in his hair and regret in his soul?”

“He cursed. A lot.”

“Same thing.” She smirked. 

Third Person PoV

Out in the training yard, Spencer was tending to his sword in quiet focus when Ser Damien strolled up, smug as ever. The swordsman leaned against the post with his arms crossed. 

“So…” Damien drawled. “Word around the stables is you were left in a white blur of snow and shame today.”

Spencer didn't look up. “That blur had legs half the length of mine. Don’t know how it happened.”

Damien chuckled. “Ah, yes, the great Northern excuse: ‘She cheated.’ Sounds better than admitting your wife outrode you in front of half the guard.”

Spencer smirked faintly. “She has something to prove. I let her have it.”

“Of course you did,” Damien said, deadpan. “Nothing screams confidence like eating snow on the ride home.”

Spencer glanced at him, eyes sharp but mouth twitching.

“She needed the win more than I did.”

“And you didn’t mind seeing her flushed and laughing like that, did you?”

Spencer paused. Just long enough for Damien’s grin to widen.

“I hate you, you know that,” Spencer muttered.

“You love me,” Damien said, turning away with a wink. “Almost as much as you're starting to like her.”

First Person PoV

When I walked into the hall for dinner with Spencer, I had one thing on my mind, and it wasn’t his departure with the troops tomorrow. No. I was going to figure out how he had heard that rumor about me and that stupid knight. 

As soon as the first course was placed in front of us, I wasted no time. 

“Who told you about that knight?” I asked. 

“What?” 

“You told me about a rumor about a ‘love affair’ I had with one of my father’s knights. Who told you about this?” I asked. 

“Hhmm… I’d hate to turn you against your favorite handmaiden.” He said, smirking into his mug of ale. 

I gasped, “That bitch! What did she tell you?” 

I wasn’t really angry, just shocked she would tell him about this, and leave out key details. 

“Well, she didn’t tell me anything. I overheard her talking with the other handmaidens the other morning. So tell me, how do I compare to the Mystic Knight?” He asked. 

“Well, if you must know, you’ve at least gotten further than he ever did, you’ve shared a bed with me… all he ever got was a chaste kiss under the Moonfire Tree in the gardens of Brightmere Keep. It was a stupid game, and I was dared by Angela to do it.” I explained. 

“Oh, well, lucky me. Who’s a better kisser?” 

“I beg your pardon?” I asked, nearly spitting out the wine I was sipping. 

“Who was the better kisser? Me? Or him?” He asked so casually you’d think he was completely disinterested in the entire conversation, but the light behind his eyes said otherwise. 

“Considering the only time I’ve kissed you was at our wedding, and it felt like kissing a cold stone wall, I’d say he was… How does it feel to lose twice in a single day, Lord Agnew?” I asked smuggly. 

“The day’s not over, I could still change the outcome of one of my losses.” He said. 

I felt my cheeks heating up, but didn’t waver. 

“I’d like to see you try.” I shot back. 

Then, without a word, he stood from his chair and began walking towards me. When he was next to me, he pulled my chair out and turned it to face him. He placed one hand on the back of the chair and the other on the armrest, effectively trapping me in the chair. I could feel my heart hammering in my chest, and I am sure if it wasn’t for the crackling of the fire, Spencer would have heard it too.

He leaned forward, crowding my personal space, but oddly, I didn’t find myself minding it all to much. My breath caught in my throat for a second. Then he gently grabbed my hand closest to his that was on the armrest and slowly brought it up to his mouth. Without breaking eye contact with me, he softly pressed his lips against the knuckles of my hand. He pulled it away and set it gently back into my lap. 

“You know, you’re quite cute when you're flustered… makes me want to do it more often.” He whispered before straightening back up and turning to walk back to his chair. 

He sat down and continued his meal as if nothing had just happened. Meanwhile, I was sitting there, head spinning with replays of his actions and words. 

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free Him.

[myfirstbreakcharacter]

The Nocturne Crusade

A holy pilgrimage of sorts has become a common practice on the Bronzed Continent, where participants attempt to visit all of the Shrines of Night within a single year. A new "commencement" of the pilgrimage happens for each season and most travelers will try to fit their journey in within a single season. The keepers of the Shrines of Night and their guard establish a new route for each season, depending on travel conditions and the current route projections of Crater Island.

The Nocturne Crusade is not merely a holy endeavor, though. The areas surrounding these shrines have blossomed into large towns or cities in some cases, and the most common routes between them have become routes for travel, diplomacy, commerce and trade, even tourism! There are even places where proper roads are maintained between multiple communities all designed to service the constant traffic of these pilgrims.

Now the Sol Alliance HATES this, because this free movement gives power to the other kingdoms in the hemisphere and challenge its cultural supremacy. In particular, devotees of the Invincible Bright would be happy to see the Shrines of Night cast out like a serpent from the Blazing Garden for not-entirely-spurious reasons. However, since the Alliance benefits so greatly from the strong trade and diplomatic ties to its rivals, it does not actively (OVERTLY) interfere with the Nocturne Crusades. It does, however, demand certain concessions from the planned routes, certain levies from the pilgrims who can afford it, and are very difficult to liaise with when Crater Island enters their territory.

Because routes vary so much between seasons the whole of the Bronzed Continent is webbed with reminders of pilgrimages past. Some of the most remote permanent settlements in the region were established once to serve those on the Nocturne Crusade. Along the way, traditional "outset points" have accrued among the culture of travelers, and these have become designated places to meet and equip before setting out. Peek Peak, and the recently-established settlement of Innstead, is one of these.

A person can have any number of reasons for "following the dark" and setting out on the Nocturne Crusade. Events and festivals are planned around its movements and its routes touch on many of the great civilizations of the hemisphere. Political, mercantile, spiritual, cultural, technological, informational, educational, and employment opportunities of all kinds exist for everyone from killers to kindergartners. Each season many travelers are waylaid by adventure and mystery, and many more manage to gain and lose a fortune a couple of times over.

[myfirstbreakcharacter]

The Seasons of Bronze

The Bronzed Continent follows the calendar of the Cogstone Warwork in the same way as does much of the Outer World but, in practical cultural terms, the continent marks time through in inexact passage of the three seasons.

The Still Season brings nothing but oppressive heat and increased ferocity from the creatures of the region. Spirits grow restless in these times, too: both those semi-divine and the vestiges of the departed. Because instances of the dead walking are most common during this season (while still rare), and because many creatures and remote homesteads wither and die from lack of food and water in these months, the Still Season is sometimes referred to as "Carrion Days." This is the most popular season for the pilgrims walking the Nocturne Crusade, especially after the losses of the Floods. It is typically the longest season.

The Wailing Season comes with howling winds which scour the land as much as they cool it. As the cooler air from the Twilight Meridian slips in to the realms of eternal light the heavy, cooler air from the Wistful Dark flows in to the Sunrise Lands. This front acts as a wall, leaving nowhere for the swirling airmass to go. The constant buffeting crosswinds give rise to sudden lightning strikes and makes many modes of travel more difficult. The Paw Post in particular seems to have the roughest time during these months and are sometimes forced to suspend certain services, with many people jokingly referring to them as the "Pause Post." The impact of this season is different across different regions, and is welcomed like family in the Sol Alliance.

The Floods come next, the shortest and most dangerous of the three seasons. Scorched lands betray the life they once harbored and those places where the mountains pile up the clouds drink deeply, resulting in lush jungle and rolling green hills. The cost of this is a constant threat of rain and storm at minimum, and the likelihood of sudden unexpected slides and floods nearly tips over into a certainty in many regions. This is considered a season outside of time, when debts and sins are forgiven. Community and mercy take on an added importance, but any truces or alliances during this period are washed away in the currents. This is also the naturally-darkest period on the Bronzed Continent, when people take advantage of cloud cover, softer ground, and the force of mighty torrents to effect great change. It is paradoxically a time when many shelter at home as much as possible as well as a popular time for certain festivals.

The seasons go in turn and it is possible, though rarer, for a season to occur more than once throughout the year. It is also possible for a year or more to be spent within a single Still Season. This has occurred most recently, and is the setting in which the company finds itself setting out….

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The Shrines of Night

In the bright heat of eternal day on the Bronzed Continent any respite is welcome and darkness is prized. Rooms in homes are dedicated to it, the destitute crawl into dangerous caverns seeking it, and some bizarre cults even worship it in defiance of those proselytizing the Invincible Bright. The wealthy and privileged have personal "shaders" which they can crank up to show off their status.

There are also the Shrines of Night. These are unaffiliated shrines to what was lost when the Sun Machine broke and have become quite the destination for travelers. Some are maintained by technology, others by magic, and some stand shrouded through some unknown means, but all exist within an ancient field of night. They dot the Bronzed Continent and its surroundings and are found on all maps dating from the shattering of the Sun Machine.

They are not related to the Shadow Shrine in the Twilight Meridian, which exists in perpetual twilight and venerates not darkness but the transformative nature of shadow and boundary.

Laws honored throughout the Bronzed Continent prohibit any company or individual from lingering at any of the Shrines of Night longer than a few weeks unless about the specific business of the upkeep of the shrines. As such, many people will move from one location to another in the same way some folks follow herd migrations or traveling musicians.

There is a spiritual component to this journey, of course. Those who have endured loss or longing, or who have hope for a new life or new love, may venture out on a quest to pray at each of these shrines. Ashes or remains are sometimes brought along, and at other times keepsakes and mementos are left behind at each shrine. There are also those for whom the shrines and the opportunity to travel represent an oddity: tourists, for lack of a better word. There are some with nowhere else to go who call upon the shrines in the spirit of relief, comfort, and mercy.

[myfirstbreakcharacter]

1d20 Minor Enemies for BREAK!!

I wanted to put a convenient list of level 0-1 enemies based on the advice listed in BREAK!!, which favors using a smaller adversaries section alongside guidance on customization and reskinning for different purposes. At first glance this can make it look like it's difficult to fill out an encounter table without relying on much more dangerous creatures, but I disagree. These are the ones I found, and I only cheated on 1 entry really; all of the rest of these are available with almost no premeditated tinkering required for the BREAK!! GM.

Mange bandits (p400)

Porcs (as Mange)

Croaks (as Mange)

Other Beastmen (as Mange)

Skeleman (p404)

Animated doll/mannequin/scarecrow (as Skeleman)

Rudimentary robots (as Skeleman)

Wretch (p363)

Other Nuisance (homunculus or vat spawn)

Blighted demons (p372)

Mutants or zombies (as Blighted)

Goops (p382)

Standard Lalka (p392)

Other minor elementals/lalka (as Lalka)

Tiny Unhelpful Cloud (p416)

Minor imp or spirit (as Cloud)

PC species bandit (as Mange)

As Basic Folk (p322)

As Custrel (p186)

As Scamp (p185)

[myfirstbreakcharacter]

I don’t like VTTs. Maybe they’re finally to the point where it’s worth it to me to mess with them but, not being a big map guy to begin with, it never felt necessary for the games I run online.

BREAK!! represents an opportunity to introduce some new people to rpgs or playing rpgs online, though, and I can see some vets’ experience actually hindering them from visualizing the abstractions BREAK!! foes with its battlefields.

This is a Google Slides file I shared with the BREAK!! Discord after another user on there gave me the idea. All the copy/paste assets are on slide 9, blank is on slide 10. The other slides so far are common, easy to customize battlefield setups. I love the old art of Grey’s that I used for the background.

Please remember before using this to Make A Copy first, so the original is ready and clean for the next person.

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I’m tryin’!

[myfirstbreakcharacter]

Bloodsucker Brook

The first thing you spot from the distance is a titanic boulder. Away from the mountains - away from Peek Peak - it might overshadow many hills. It is rounded and bulging like a little sourdough bun. There are very old maps from previous aeons which refer to it as 'Child of Mountain.' These days, everyone calls it the Bug.

The Bug has been carved out where it meets the ground and the ground has been scooped away a bit. It might have looked like some great puffball mushroom if it was left that way, but enterprising individuals have ringed the mountain-child with an open-air tavern structure, akin to what one would see at some festival. This is an "always open" structure, serving different drinks and meals at any time of day or 'night,' cooled by the constant drafts between the mountain and the forest. Supporting bracers and buttresses keep the structure upright against any sinking or settling from seasonal downpours. Now, from a distance, it looks like a gigantic Bloodbug growing fat while feeding on the base of Peek Peak.

The structures that have grown up around the Bug have little concern for the fraction of the population who can be considered somewhat permanent residents. Instead, the whole of the place is given over to a transient population of travelers, outcasts, and thrill seekers. The last gasp of libertine lawlessness before entering the Vightran Wilds, Bloodsucker Brook more or less runs itself; however, when tough decisions have to be made, it's the bartenders at the Bug who make them.

Most Services and Downtime Activities are available at the Bug, though who is providing those services changes by the day. Permanent sales stalls exist but they are occupied by one traveling peddler after another. Permanent eateries of a sort exist but the cuisine changes with every meal. Smithies abound, never cold, ceaselessly ringing, with the hand that holds the hammer changing between strikes. In fact, the permanent din and smoke of the wing of smithies around the town are probably the best-known denizens of Bloodsucker Brook.

Thirsty work. Luckily, there's a bar open....

It's the kind of place you go to meet people. Whatever that means. It's the kind of place you either pass through or pass away from. It's rowdy and alive and dangerous and cozy, a permanent revel attended by the most lawless and daring people on the subcontinent. That makes it the ultimate destination for a small group of travelers to meet up with a larger company, or to ensure their safety by hiring armed security, or to employ esoteric specialists of all stripes....

This is all by design, of course. In reality, Bloodsucker Brook is strictly controlled by Vightre. A tax stamp from the security outpost here is required for entry into the Canopy Shrine. This keeps people from wandering off through the Wilds on their own and getting into trouble, causing fear and uncertainty on the trade routes supported by the Nocturne Crusade and tying up valuable rescue resources from the Vightran Wild Guard. A little lawlessness is a small price to pay for safety and order. Then again, Vightre has always excelled at taking the longer view....

[myfirstbreakcharacter]

Mountain Robbers (The Straw Hawgs)

More common in the Red Range across the gulf (where, to be fair, there are more mountains), the forests of Peek Peak and other nearby mountains become flooded with robbers each season as valley authorities (including regular patrols from Vightre, an honor guard from the Sol Alliance, and more) begin clearing the way for that season's new round of pilgrims and travelers setting out for the Nocturne Crusade.

It is out of genuine civic concern but it's largely for show, since this security is never maintained and the robber bands all flow back after a short while. It can be difficult for the hermits, homesteaders, and remote settlements that populate the mountains. This is doubly-true for a newly-established hamlet like Innstead.

The Straw Hawgs are one such band, led by the youngest of three terrifying and monstrous Porc brothers. These toughs are violent, money-hungry people-eaters. They are also oblivious to Innstead's existence, and believe they are snatching supplies intended for Crash Landing on the other side of the mountain. While they love big crude weapons and big crude armor their favored weapon (such as at their "toll gate" switchback ambush) is boiling oil.

Now these brigands - swept woodward by those interested in protecting travelers - have found themselves impeding the very travelers in whose name they were banished up the mountainside. Life's funny like that.

[myfirstbreakcharacter]

Chasmeres

Chasmeres are massive heavy metal goatlike creatures with two tall, sharp prongs sticking out of their Fab Four bangs. Their poofy, wiry coats feel like household insulation. They're very sure-footed and capable of fantastic leaps, so are often found nesting in the trees. They represent a danger from branches unable to support their weight, or just falling asleep and rolling out of their bough. They are private creatures who will bound away if approached but can turn aggressive if followed.

They can be milked for nourishment or shorn for trade/crafting material (mostly used for lighter armor or cold-weather-proof Outfits). Most would never deign to be ridden (unless you were able to negotiate with them directly in their own bestial terms) but they can be convinced to turn a wheel or pull a small cart...

They're big boys, too. Their Unarmed attacks count as Standard weapons and they can push a target back 1 Battlefield Area if they do extra damage. They are otherwise similarly mechanically to Jumbugs (page 191). They represent the largest fauna native to Peek Peak (as well as the Red Range) and are distinct from their more common cousins, the Kiddoos.

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The Summit Sentinel

Standing alone, scanning the horizon, a nameless elf stands. He has stood there for longer than anyone can be certain. The whipping winds, hungry Chasmeres, and inconsiderate trophy-hunters have all but stripped him bare. The few scraps which cling to him indicate no ancient allegiance. They do however seem militant in nature....

His back is turned to the massive doomed airship whose wreck makes up the central structure of Crash Landing among the waves far below the Summit Sentinel's perch on Peek Peak. It is assumed that this ship belongs to the Sentinel but none have been able to verify that and the Sentinel isn't talking. Not for hundreds of recorded years. Not since he died.

The Sentinel is unaffected by the ravages of time and there is no insect life or carnivores to speak of on this promontory to abuse their body. In life, in game mechanics terms, this elf was immune to the Toppled Ailment. In death, the stand as an organic statue and once-living landmark.

Other elfs and immortals see the Sentinel as profane and would love to see the Sentinel interred, but there is a dispute that forestalls this since the Sentinel was recorded on the Sol Alliance's mapping records since before those maps acknowledged the giant mountain he's standing on.

In these modern times, he has become something of a tourist attraction alongside the other wonders of Peek Peak, like Hero's Rock and the Fogfalls. Since the Nocturne Crusade has begun, taking in the very panorama viewed by the Sentinel's dead eyes has become a tradition amongst pilgrims, leading to the recent establishment of a settlement designed to serve these curiosity-seekers....

If they indeed belonged to the ancient forgotten airship from Crash Landing, their mission may have been quite important. There's always the possibility that they stand guard over something they secreted away....Or at least that's the theory....

[myfirstbreakcharacter]

Peek Peak and Innstead

Because so much of the Bronzed Continent and beyond can be seen from its summit, Peek Peak has been a traditional outset point for the Nocturne Crusade for generations. The Sol Alliance has provided many promises in the name of establishing a settlement on Peek Peak but most of their proffered resources have not materialized. Whether this owes to their disapproving attitude toward the pilgrimage overall or not is for others to say...

Innstead was built around the crude hostel which already existed here to service travelers, explorers, woodspeople, and the scavengers coming up the mountain from Crash Landing. It consists of...

The Blue Inn, an ugly brown structure in sore need of its overdue paint job. Minded by Madame Miriam Minder, a human who lives there with her children Decent and Blythe. Food and rooms can be purchased here. Dolga the human artist also lives here.

The Hostel, a large ramshackle building where visitors can find free lodgings for up to a week at a time. Currently managed by Dus Koronna, a Tenebrate, and occupied intermittently by Loafy Tenderfoot the Chib guide.

The Stablesmithy, providing housing for a few hard-lived mounts and beasts and blacksmithing services. The smith is a large human called Fadin the Broad. Can also act as a workshop for smithing and tinkering.

The General Store, run by a toadlike creature named Bufo Dize. Many travelers have heard of his brother, Bofa. General rural goods and adventuring gear can be found here but the more useful/essential items can be priced dearly.

The Witch's Hut, which looks like a large beet on stilts. Home to Sezyu the Seer, a Chib gifted at readings, potions, and treatment of injuries. She gets high on her own supply and many of her unlabeled potions have strange effects.

This little settlement is not the only point of interest on Peek Peak, of course. There's Hero Rock (which looks more like a chicken tender than Regulus or anyone else), the great forest Fogfalls, the rattled and disused Skymoors awaiting airships that'll never come, the splendid view of the Bronzed Continent....and, of course, the Summit Sentinel.

[myfirstbreakcharacter]

On the Bronzed Continent in the Blazing Garden in the Outer World, see....

Peek Peak, an uncontested and unclaimed mountain separated from the Red Range. It is a place where clouds aren't, and where the air is so thin that a light jacket is sometimes warranted. Deep within its forests and caves, one can even find the occasional frost-drift.

At its duskward base lies Crash Landing, a community of opportunists and treasure-hunters centered around the remains of a great ancient airship of some complexity. A few fortunate among them possess an Outerworlder Guide, a mysterious and unreliable antique folio of secrets.

In the surrounding waters, the Thousand-Cove Pirates maintain hidden nomadic city states bound by the Peaces of Eight in refuge of that scourge of the Sunset Sea: pirate hunter Belladonna Brightlightning.

At its sunward base lies Bloodsucker Brook, built around a small channel that feeds into the great jungles beyond. A massive stone forms a central tavern hub to this settlement, looking from a distance like a fluid-filled Bloodbug. This is the last stop for rowdiness before plunging into the Vightran Wilds...

Surrounded by powerful factions, kingdoms, and geographical interests, there is adventure to be found striking out in any direction from Peek Peak, and on a clear day you can see the shape of things to come. Small beginnings matter most, though, so we'll begin with Peek Peak. We'll begin in Innstead...

[myfirstbreakcharacter]

Entirely randomly rolled, it’s **Grease!** nee Grees, a Sneak Gruun. Notes:

He and Shijin are travel buddies with a third.

I consider him to be another cousin of Chefy my big muppet monster fighter. Chefy has a lot of cousins.

Personality notes again from my Muppet Maker

Can’t believe the dice said both Beast Handler and Beast Tongue, guess I have a very confused talking road buddy named Magic Beans

I feel like his whole deal is summed up by that immortal shakespeare work Green Acres. Always dreaming of making it, always in trouble because he got sidetracked to help a duck.

Also gave me kind of Bat Lash vibes so I put his flowery vest on Grease.

His cap and cloak and vest really do not fit him, but he thinks they’ll help him be taken seriously.

I left this one b&w until I have more than sharpies and highlighters to work with.

When he hits rank 6 he’s getting into shoplifting, just…..take the whole fucking stall home….