[Phase 3] Campfires [Balon]

Balon was sound asleep in his tent as the fires started. Earlier in the night he'd been drinking with some fellow soldiers, all of them bragging about memorable kills and women they'd run through with their "lances". By the end of the evening he was good and drunk and had stumbled back to his tent for some much needed rest. His snoring, sometimes described as a pig fucking an aurochs, drowned out the initial calls for help. 

The men were silent as they stood there staring at Balon, their eyes black from hemorrhaging. No matter which direction he turned Balon saw them; his victims from the last few months. Ser Dagos with the top half of his head missing from Balon's swing. Ser Walton, his chest pierced from Balon's lance. The hedge knight from the Rosewood. Countless militiamen from Riverthorn. Balon turned to see Ser Vorian and his ruined neck from the fatal sword thrust Balon had inflicted upon him. A headless body stood there motionless, an occasional tick of the hands being the only signal it was alive. Balon recognized it as Lord Desmond's. His rage fueled mace attack on the boy had left his skull and brains scattered on the field where he'd fell off his horse. Balon turned faster and faster trying to get away from his victims until he saw Marei. He froze as she cradled her stomach. A stomach that he'd stabbed a dozen times or more. In her hand she held a torch, the flame blue. With lighting speed she charged Balon and struck him in the face with the torch. He tried to scream but flames engulfed him.

Balon tossed and turned on his cot as the flames spread. The heat had finally reached him and beads of sweat started to form on his bare skin. "Fire!" someone cried out in alarm.

The dream morphed into a victory procession. Blackfyre! Blackfyre! the crowd chanted. Smallfolk, thousands upon thousands, cheered as the rebels marched through the streets of King's Landing. On a dais, larger than anything he'd ever seen, stood King Daemon and his Queen, Fireball in the white of the Kingsguard, and Bittersteel, newly appointed Hand of the King. Atop his horse Beast, Balon led a large contingent of Reachmen. Their faces blurred together when he looked at them but he recognized Ser Addam and Ser Daeron. The crowd chanted his name as he waived to them. Snake-eater! Black Horn! FIRE! FIRE! A knight came up alongside Balon and laughed. He smiled as he recognized Ser Titus. His brother pointed at a lower part of the dais and Balon followed his finger to a woman in a silver tiara and black dress. Her silver hair was in braids and around her were four children. Balon dismounted his horse and made his way up the dais to the sound of thunderous applause. Laena greeted him with a hug and smiled. Balon she said. But it wasn't her voice. Balon! Balon!

"Balon wake up for fucks sake!" Balon opened his eyes and immediately knew something was wrong. A guard had come into his tent and was desperately trying to wake him up. "Help us ser! The Blackwoods have set fire to the camp!"

Balon grabbed his sword and stumbled out of his tent into a scene that was on the verge of spiraling out of control. He shook his head to force some clarity and began to issue orders. "You men, tear down those tents. You three make sure the horses stay tied up." He looked at the disorganized group trying to put out the fire. "Form a damn line and start passing buckets!"

-On a critical failure, you instead suffer -1 to the next test to wake

When I read this I interpreted it as the cumulative bonus is cancelled and replaced with -1. I'll definitely take 5th or 8th as opposed to 13 though.

Edit: taking a second look at the rolls I agree with Round 8 being the success.