personal7

Either this was going to be the greatest thing ever done that will launch my name into infamy or this was going to be the stupidest thing that I will ever do that will have me reviled as a stupid man who got himself and thousands of others brutally killed, because of...because of what exactly? They certainly didn't know why I was doing this bullshit. 

The maesters will come up with their theories. The singers and the mummers will come up with far more entertaining reasons that may or may not be based wholly in truth.  

Well, fuck them. I didn't give a fuck. 

They can talk when everything was over and done with. 

"Edmyn, they are here." Ser Patrek of Fairmarket said, riding up to me. 

"About time." I muttered underneath my breath, my hose pawing at the ground underneath me. "I could hear the sons of bitches from several leagues away."  

Peering through the branches and the foliage, I could see who 'them' was. It was a long column of men dressed in black mail and scale, all with a various myriad of weapons. I could see cruel looking axes along with cruel looking swords, maces, warhammers and every else that looked like it could end the life of a man. 

I saw some on horses, maybe a couple hundred and the rest were on foot in a surprisingly orderly column that I had not expected of them. I saw the red stallion of Bracken on yellow and the dead weirwood and ravens of House Blackwood, but those banners were more tattered and ragged than the one that was held the most prominent. A banner that had two silver chains crossing between a gold longship on black, a green pine on white field, red grapes on gold and a raven on a blue sky. 

The banner of House Hoare. 

Never thought I would find myself inserted into a ASOIAF character before. I mean, you read about those things. They just didn't happen to you. They weren't supposed to be real, and yet, here I am, inserted into the body of Edmyn fuckin' Tully. 

I still didn't have a fucking clue who this fucker was. 

This was probably also going to be one of the shortest said inserts in the history of inserts. I was about to commit treason to a very cruel man, who, if he takes me alive, was going to make sure I regretted my choice of trying to end his reign of terror in the Riverlands very personally.  

In other words, it was best that we won this little rebellion or in the worst case scenario, that I am not taken alive. Because that would suck. 

"I hope this works out, Edmyn." Ser Patrek muttered as he closed his visor shut. 

I played with my lance for a moment, bringing it in closer and away from me. "It will work." I didn't finish my sentence by saying I hope. I was trying to be the cool, calm, collected leader here. I had to have faith in my plan. 

Even if that plan meant charging a little over a thousand horse into a column of what my most optimistic estimates was eight thousand or so men. The only good thing going for us was the fact that I had the terrain advantage being located on a slightly sloping hill and that my horse was hidden in the surrounding woods that the road passed through.  

In other words, I was in a perfect ambush point. Why Harren didn't have outriders was beyond me. But then again, this was the moron that was building a stupidly large castle that was bankrupting both the Riverlands and the Iron Islands. 

So I didn't expect much in terms of common sense. 

Behind me, I could hear the muttering of four hundred men, some saying prayers, others talking quietly to themselves, probably bragging about the glory they were about to earn this day. Well, whatever floated their boat. If I was bound by oaths to follow a moron who didn't know what he was doing into what was probably going to be death trap, then I would pray and try to brag about the shit I was going to be doing this fine, summer's day.

I had split my force of over a thousand horse into four over-sized companies. Two companies hidden on opposites sides of the road. My company and the other on this side of the road was the first one going to make the charge, to get the attention of Harren and his ilk. Then the other company was going to come from the other side.  

Pretty basic in terms of planning nothing revolutionary. I certainly didn't think myself any kind of a battle commander, but this seemed pretty fine with me. 

The creaking of wood attracted me to the mangonels that had been pushed up to the front of the lines. I didn't know which was better, a mangonel or a trebuchet, but a trebuchet was fucking massive and would have taken more time to build than a mangonel apparently, so we had gone for the mangonel route. 

And it was a shame that we didn't actually try to test out the ranges, but whatever. YOLO. 

I raised up a closed fist as the mangonels were loaded with the barrels of my special surprise that I hoped will give me victory this day. I waited for the column of ironborn reavers to march into what I thought would be a good position, before I swung my arm forward. "Fire!" 

And the mangonels loosed their deadly package. 

*** ​

When I woke up this morning, I wondered why I had found myself in my room. I mean, I had come back from a night out and had passed out on the sofa. I was one of those people that could remember little things like that, so I was curious as to why I was in my room. 

Did someone carry me to my room? Which would be weird and rather unsettling cause my roommates were a country away.  

Then I started recalling things that were not my memories, but at the same time, were my memories. It was as if I was watching someone live out my life in third person, who was clearly not me, yet obviously was. 

Eventually, I stumbled upon a name in my memories, Edmyn Tully. 

The name didn't really ring any sort of bells. I didn't know anyone with a ridiculous, clearly, special snowflake name like Edmyn, nor was I aware of any Tullys. Perhaps it was the name of some random minor that I had met during the night?  

My memories of said drinking binge were hazy and didn't give me any definite answers. 

Querying these strange memories even more as I continued to lie in this bed, I came upon something that gave me more of a definite answer, Riverrun. I was in Riverrun. And I only knew of one place with the name of Riverrun. 

I was pleasantly surprised I wasn't panicking. Or perhaps I was going to have my bout of panicking at a later date, but clearly not at this moment in time. 

I had read the books, some of them anyway. I couldn't remember all of the details, but I certainly could remember that Westeros was a bitch of a place to live. 

Speaking of which, who the fuck is Edmyn Tully? I cannot literally recall anyone called fucking Edmyn fuckin' Tully. 

It wasn't Edmure for starters. If it was an Edmure, I would have known, because I certainly didn't have any memories relating to a Catelyn, Littlefinger, Lysa, Brynden or Hoster Tully. 

So who the fuck was Edmyn fuckin' Tully? 

Okay, I would admit that fixating on trying to find out who I had been inserted into was probably staving off the panic that I so clearly wanted to do, or it was because Edmyn Tully was not the type of person to panic so easily. Since I was him now, that was probably true. 

In search of even more answers of some kind, I had come to learn a few points from my memories. 

I was in Riverrun, which was in the Riverlands, which was in Westeros. That was simple enough. That was when I learned things started going weird. 

For starters, House Hoare was a thing. Harren the Black was a thing. The Gardeners were still a thing. The Durrandons were a thing. 

The entire Seven Kingdoms were still a thing before the Targaryens had come over and said. "Yo, I'm just gonna conquer you because I have dragons and shit and there's really nothing you can do about it, mate. So deal with it."  

So I was a Tully whilst the Harren the Dick was still a thing. I certainly knew what I was going to be doing for the next foreseeable future until Aegon decides to come and sort out Westeros. 

I was going to keep my head and down, and not attract any sort of attention. That was the plan. 

An easy plan.  

I can so keep to that plan.