The year is 286 AC. King Jaehaerys II has just passed, leaving the throne without a rightful ruler. While his three children fight for the crown, Winter creeps closer, and unimaginable darkness looms.
Not all alliances will be so typical this time. In fact, many people have a crucial effect on the way this story is told. As for the ending, we only hope there are enough people left alive to tell it after its passed.
Events
Join us for our first event, the wake of recently deceased King Jaehaerys II.
Updates
AUG. 19: So we are now officially open to the public. We have a mini-event flashback thread going on, and our main event just began. Feel free to make a second canon if you can keep both of them active enough.
Don't hesitate in pestering staff with questions; it's what we're here for! Let's raise a glass and make a cheer toward a successful launch of Winds of Winter.
When the snow falls and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies but the pack survives. Edder Stark is the secondborn son and nephew to the Warden of the North, Cassius Stark. A aspiring warrior, true in his words and willing to lay on his sword to protect those he cares about.
There was a solemn waiting quite to the land of Winterfell. It had been a restless waiting for the Starks, or perhaps most of the other houses, waiting for the inevitability forfeit from their king. It was plenty enough for young Edder to understand where it was headed. If the line of succession was unclear for the Targaryens, then a struggle was surely going to brew. That would certainly just take a rattle of the dragons cage to set them off. There were plans to be made for the coming trip to Kings Landing, if only to pay respects to the dying king or to pursue the path Edder quietly hungered for.
The Stark footsteps echoed throughout the hallways of Winterfell. The steps mirrored by another, his direwolf Brutus alongside him. A familiar sight as the pup had grown attached to Edder since the day he was placed in his care. Their path lead to the oldest section, the young stark paused and pursed his lips. Giving a glance to his companion. “You can't come with me this far...I’ll return soon alright Brutus?” Letting his hand scratch behind one of the grey wolf's ears, creating a soft whine from the creature. The iron wood door heavy and old creaked open, leading to a tight spiral of stairs below Winterfell.
He did not believe in visiting the the crypts often, this was only due to one thing. He had been summoned by his aunt Alira for discussion. Or rather what he assumed could have been only discussion, the thought of what could occur in kings land did tingle his mind with thoughts. But what mattered for most was to make his way to the meeting with haste. His footsteps echoed through one of the crypt floors, eyes piercing through the dark to find his relative.
Alira is the Lady of Winterfell, although her southern roots leave her with a bad attitude and sharp tongue. She cares for her children more than anything, and some people even suspect she may care for her husband.
Edder Stark was in the same age group as her own children. It was only natural that a maternal figure such as herself treated him like one of her own. Of course, he was her husband's nephew. No blood connected them. But he was disciplined, and he did not have the same bias toward her that her children did. This was why she did not trust Jeren or Ayden with such a secret. Instead, she would aproach Edder.
They met in the crypts, as if that wasn't an ominous enough setting for such a secret meeting. But it was the lesser traveled area of Winterfell, and no ears would pry. "My dear boy, you look like you grow stronger each day. A man of true Stark stature," she complimented. All of the Stark men were well-built and tall as compared to Southern men. She was used to skinny Lannisters and Tyrells who never did menial labor. Here in the North, even noblemen worked and trained daily.
"The King will soon pass on to be with the Seven, as you know. You're coming to Kings Landing when it happens, yes? I'm going to need to employ you as a body guard for just a couple of hours, if it isn't too troublesome." She held her wrist behind her back and glanced around the gloomy crypt. "I know you will likely be eyeing after some beautiful women. It is high time you found yourself a wife."
When the snow falls and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies but the pack survives. Edder Stark is the secondborn son and nephew to the Warden of the North, Cassius Stark. A aspiring warrior, true in his words and willing to lay on his sword to protect those he cares about.
He was coming of age of course, he was becoming the military man destined to be. Everything of him, the broad shoulders stiff and thick with muscle. Even his posture when he approached his lady and aunt, Alira Stark spoke volumes. His hands entwined together behind his back, his head bowed slightly as a sign of respect. She may not have been his blood relative, however she was there during his age of becoming a man. In that respect he knew well enough to treat her as a fellow stark.
His darkened brown hair did not hide his eyes that seemed to beam with enjoyment. “A pleasure to be of any assistance to you, Aunt.” finishing his sentence with the hint of a smirk. All before raising his head, yet his body remained statuesque, militant and unflinching. Quietly Edder listened to his relative, only giving the brief nod at the question of his appearance in Kings Landing. A simple escort for his family, trivial to ask. The young stark didn’t understand why she would go to these lengths to ask of that in the crypt of Edder’s ancestors.
Illuminated by the low torchlight in the crypt, Edder’s shoulders relaxed as it came to time to discuss marriage. He turned his back to his relative, his head looking at the statues and tombs of his family. “If you’re planning trouble when you're among the Iron Throne, i would hope you trust me enough to say so. You did not just bring me here for that request, did you? Or for the matter of marriage…” The piercing blue eyes of Edder turned back to Alira, his hands restrained behind him still. “If only you knew me better, I do not wish to distract myself with pretty women...the Tullys, and Barathoens will likely be who i am arranged with. Or perhaps you would have me laid in bed with one of you Lannisters?” The softness of his words lessened the resentment towards her suggestion. He was loyal to his house, and even her, but he would not willingly force himself into a marriage.
Alira is the Lady of Winterfell, although her southern roots leave her with a bad attitude and sharp tongue. She cares for her children more than anything, and some people even suspect she may care for her husband.
Edder was a smart young lass. Alira found that Starks were not often the most quick-witted, and they could not decipher manipulation from trueness. But Edder cut to the point, and the Lannister-born woman found herself mirroring his smirk. "A quick one, aren't you?" she sighed. Could she really trust in her nephew? She supposed that even if he told others, it was his word against her own. But something told her Edder was not entirely holy. Of course, no Stark ever was. They killed too many men to consider themselves true men of the gods. "I would never advocate for your betrothal to a Lannister. They are the same people who sent me here as punishment. Little did they know I would absorb myself into your family's lifestyle and consider you my kin over them."
Alira reached in to her robes and produced a small, black vial. "This is poison, produced from Essos. It will kill even the largest brute of a man if ingested." Alira returned the tiny bottle back to her furs. Her eyes peeled away from Edder's to glance in the direction of the crypt entrance. No one would hear these words other than the two smirking souls. "I plan to use it along with the antidote I procured. When the King dies, Targaryens will start a war over the throne." She purposefully left out the name of who she would be attempting to gather information from. "Either he tells me what I want to know, or he dies to the poison. Either way, this is the type of man who will not just sit idly by as I withhold the antidote from him. He will attack me, and he is savvy with the sword."
The plan seemed flawed. How could Alira know that, if given to her, the information would be true? The man could simply spit lies in order to save himself. But Alira had safeguards in place, ones that she would keep to herself. "He need not know your presence until the time comes. If and when he does come for my throat, you will need to intervene." She glanced around the tombs. "Trust me when I say this man, if he so chooses death, does deserve it. And it will harm House Stark in no way. I would never hurt House Stark in any way." They were her family now.
When the snow falls and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies but the pack survives. Edder Stark is the secondborn son and nephew to the Warden of the North, Cassius Stark. A aspiring warrior, true in his words and willing to lay on his sword to protect those he cares about.
The lad rather, was no northerner fool. Edder may have devoted his years since he could stand to the sword, but he still would have a skill of honest perception. His forthright attitude served him well, what masking hid his aunt’s true intentions fell. The head bowing once more, humble in his momentary victory. “I like to keep my wit sharp, my lady.” His smile growing for just a centimeter wider. Letting his arm now fold and cross in front of him as he listened to what wisdom his relative had for him. His statue again unyielding when faced with the subject of marriage, her answer did surprise him however.
Despite her resentment towards family, he did not linger on the subject. At the very least it narrowed Edder’s options as a future suitor. His eyes seemed to glimmer at the sight of the vial, for reasons Alira would not know for. Only that the young stark seemed amused at her cunning procurement. “The Targaryens will undoubtedly create instability within Kings Landing, best keep yourself safe...Understandable.” The young northerner began to march closer to his aunt, best to keep themselves close for hushed planning.
His curiosity was now peaked at his relative's plan. It was a scheming, wicked side Edder had never seen. For a forthright as he was with his words, he did admire Alira for it. “This brings me intrigue, if you believe this will be of benefit. Then you will have my body willing to save you from cold iron. You are House Stark, and I defend my family.” With his words, the cunning smile the two shared began to soften. Edder gave a long look towards his aunt, his hands uncrossing. His naked hand falling onto Alira’s shoulder. “You offer is humbling that you trust me with this. If it is your wish, I will keep my silence to my family of your plan.” While many secrets could be exchanged in similar fashion, his aunt would not worry of a lie. His expression was strong and true, a sign that he was indeed of man of his word. Even if it meant holding his tongue to those of his house. If her secret were to slip at sometime while within Kings Landing, the two would surely be on the executioner's block.
Alira is the Lady of Winterfell, although her southern roots leave her with a bad attitude and sharp tongue. She cares for her children more than anything, and some people even suspect she may care for her husband.
It was a dangerous game the two played, but someone had to play it. Everyone with some semblance of nobility were too cowardly to do anything brash. They would keep following the Targaryen rule even if it wasn't a good choice. The inbred family only spelled disaster for the realm. And when the dragon eggs hatched... It would be over for any house who dared speak up. Cities would burn as a display of power. Alira imagined a dragon hovering over Winterfell and melting down her family. The thought shook her to her core.
Edder obliged her request, and she nodded curtly. "I know I can count on you." The blonde placed a hand atop the one that sat on her shoulder. She stared at Edder with serious eyes that failed to mirror her usual sly and condescending demeanor. "One day you will realize that it is not the House Lords that control what happens." A man in Edder's position had slim hope of becoming Lord of Winterfell. "The people no one looks to for answers are the ones who cause the questions. We cast the stones that leave way for ripples. Always remember that, Edder." With her brief lamentation over, she dropped her hand and sighed briefly. "It will likely be the day after the wake, when everyone is distracted. Tell me, Edder, have you ever taken a life?" While it was the least likely outcome, it was still not impossible. If her target attacked with enough fervor, Edder would have to cut him down until he could attack no more.
When the snow falls and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies but the pack survives. Edder Stark is the secondborn son and nephew to the Warden of the North, Cassius Stark. A aspiring warrior, true in his words and willing to lay on his sword to protect those he cares about.
It was not so much that he was brave to take action, nor that he had it out for the Targayens to be toppled. But he knew all too well that conflict was on the horizon, in whatever shape that it came in. What side the litter of starks took, Edder needed to ensure they had the advantage in crucial decisions. He would not enjoy being manipulative shadowy figure, only that he was willing to be an instrument for Alira to enforce her wishes. The Targayens merely were the poor souls who had to be twisted by the arm, before they did anything hasty with their coming dragons.
His blue eyes traced along the figure of his aunt, following the trail from her hand placed on top of his. To the ends of her dress his head bowed, the young man repeated. “Anything for family.” His nature intense and dutiful to the task coming soon. He understood the risks of it and believed that what could go wrong in Kings Landing would very well happen. Edder let his gaze shift back to the eyes and lips of Alira, bestowing words to follow in these impending times. There would be a small squeeze on her shoulder as she indirectly pushed his ambition to the side.
He would not believe it to be true, that his vision of seeing himself as Lord of Winterfell too far out of reach. Or not till the days when his hair grew white and his grandchildren were already adolescents. That was a grim truth that would probe that back of his mind. Perplexed, his hand drifted off Alira’s shoulder. Edder gave a small twitch of his head to shake the thought, and retort. “You know father and uncle would not see me as commander. I wish I had a chance to have my sword bloodied, but they day has not come." Edder sadly did not have the chance to prove himself a valiant master of the blade. Only to train, although that may change with the coming conflict between the Seven Kingdoms.
Alira is the Lady of Winterfell, although her southern roots leave her with a bad attitude and sharp tongue. She cares for her children more than anything, and some people even suspect she may care for her husband.
Alira sighed internally. Had she been married off in the manner she assumed since childhood, she would have been surrounded by strong, handsome young men like Edder on a daily basis. But Northerners were traditionally ugly and bear-like. It was refreshing to be in the presence of someone like Edder. He had the looks of a southern Lord, but possessed the demeanor of his northern family. It was a tasteful placement in such a cold and dreary place. "Well then, your day has come."
She brought a finger to her lips, staring at him pointedly. "Remember, our family doesn't need to know everything. It's all to protect them." With that, she headed toward the crypt's exit. "Practice well, Edder."
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