One light shines from the belltower, telling us that the Targaryean army has arrived to the Stony Sept by land. With Robert hiding in the storeroom of the house, I park myself outside, prepared to deter any soldiers. Teddy passed by and in a hushed tone notifies me that soldiers are searching the area, to which I responded, "Searching for what?" with a wink, and prepared for the invasion.

I gather a few items and a basket, and stage a damsel-in-spilled-distress scene outside the house Robert is hiding in, when I hear the Head Guard yell that the town is under Martial Law, and Shaymus has been appreh​​​​​​​ended until Lord Baratheon is turned over. Seven hells, why must everything be so complicated? I decide to stick to my plan-it takes a lot of effort to care for others…

"Good day, sirs!" I cheerily chirp to some approaching soldiers, to which I get a disappointing grunt. Ugh, this is going to be harder than I thought. "In the commotion of the day, it seems I've found myself quite clumsy," I say with my warmest grin, "would you mind helping me gather my things and join me for an ale?" A few of the soldiers readily begin to pick up my basket items with me while making small talk, and we head to the inn for a drink.

"IF ROBERT IS NOT PRESENTED IN ONE MINUTE, SHAYMUS WILL BE EXECUTED!" I hear from the Inn with my new friends. "Why all this commotion for one man? It seems like a lot of trouble," I ask my pals. They chuckle to each other and share what I already know, that Robert is the head of the Rebellion against the Mad King. "Wouldn't calling our king mad be treasonous?" I inquire, hoping to distract them with their own hypocrisy, but they have little interest in my philosophical questions, or my suggestion to invite their friends slinking outside Robert's house in to join us. As we clink our drinks together, flames flicker outside the Inn window, and commotion breaks out across the street. To my one side, my drinking buddies are sprinting towards the fire, and to my other, Maelys and the Maester are surrounded by a dozen soldiers with their weapons drawn. I run upstairs to the Peach, and throw my legs over the windowsill, take a deep breath, and lower myself out to where I am hanging on to the sill by my fingertips, as though I had fallen out while looking on to the chaos. 

"HELP! HELP!" I scream perilously, hoping to milk my damsel look for all it's worth. A few gratefully distracted soldiers help me down safely, but Maelys is far outnumbered as he is attacked. Inserting myself into the mix, I frantically try to turn the attention away from my comrade, but with no success. At my most helpless moment, a handsome Robert Baratheon bursts through the door of his hiding house swinging his sword, and his allies, the Starks flood the streets of the Stony Sept.