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.
"Ms. Elen said that you were sleeping." [break][break]
It had rained the previous night. The air still had a wet feeling to it, even as the rays of the day shone down and warmed up the puddles off of the streets and the tops of the roofs. The dry, brine smell that usually clung to the nose was stronger now more than ever, after the rain had traveled in from the sea. It was like getting a face full of a fish being butchered, or falling face first into the sea. An eye prickling, nose wriggling saltiness. The air was humid, enough to make one sweat if they stayed out long enough. [break][break]
There was a breeze, though. [break][break]
It blew in, dusted the streets and brushed against the faces of those facing the waters. She seemed to have appeared on one such wind, just a lunge and an arms reach away. Most would have left someone to their fate--to die with their wounds unseen, to be disposed of when their body became a nuisance after death. Some might call a guard, have it looked at and investigated if it were a known face of importance. [break][break]
Then there was this small girl, without an ounce of caution making an approach. Her dress seemed a size too large for her; the white sleeves past her wrists in a fashion that would suggest it had been made for the child to grow in to. And did she have growing to do--hardly enough to keep her on the ground if a wind were to blow through, carrying her far away and up into the sky. Her hair was spun gold; long and stringy. There had been nothing done to it, left to hang around and float about in her face with the occasional wild strand that would fall out from behind her ear. [break][break]
"You don't look it to me." [break][break]
She'd abandoned her nanny to look after having passed by this way just moments ago. The woman was still meandering down the street, unawares that her charge had slipped away after being told no. It wasn't any of her business. [break][break]
Ellaria wasn't very good at listening to her caretaker.
Post by Ouroboros Sand on Sept 6, 2017 19:01:53 GMT
Even the best of them could be caught unawares.
Endymion had a gift. A gift for trouble that is. He had gone to Casterly Rock over rumors of favors that would serve him well. Of course... anything the Lannisters were involved with would merit such rumors. And thus the traveler set his sights upon the Lion's Den, traveling by foot and by cart when chance presented itself.
By then the man borne from the east had made a bit of a name for himself, what with his strange outfit and mannerisms, earning him the curious looks of men and women a like.
A sellsword from the east... What sort of fortune did he expect in sailing west?
There were those who thought it to be a ruse and had attacked him, thinking they could use him to earn riches. Instead they'd earned a knife to the throat, or poison in their drinks. It earned quite the rumor about him. That death lingered about his person.
It served him good keeping anymore brutes from attacking him but...
He was a damned assassin. Not some godsent bladedancer nor was he a greenseer. He wouldn't have known his drink was laced with poison, enough to have dulled his senses. It was surprising enough for his assassin to find him living through the ordeal, but took no time in making sure to follow it through. Now. Endymion did not slack when it came to training his sword and was fairly capable of defending himself against a group of untrained men, but men by the dozen whilst drugged and in need of a good shit?
On the other hand, they at least tried to leave him for dead.
"Didn't you know little lady?" His voice strained, almost a whimper. "A man can sleep with his eyes open." His chuckled hindered by a cough as he strained himself to speak. Well this was a dumb way to go. "Best you scurry off little one. I don't think you should be worrying yourself over the likes of me."
A childish pout formed on the girls face. Yellow eyebrows drew together; arched down as her lips pressed together in an all too expressive manner. It was a look that said she wasn't buying any of what he was selling to her. This only seemed to solidify when he began coughing. She seemed to become more confident, with his state of being mostly confirmed by a child's knowledge of cough means bad. [break][break]
Ellaria ignored his warning and took a few more steps closer. [break][break]
"You aren't supposed to be outside when you're sick." Her hands that had been once idle were moving, then. One pressed up against her own forehead, moving up the blonde fringe there to where it stuck up and parted towards the sides. The other reached out to press against his own. A small, dainty little hand that held traces of black smears on the pads of her fingers and sides of her hands. The other was in a similar state; leaving a trace where it rubbed off underneath her hand. [break][break]
Post by Ouroboros Sand on Sept 10, 2017 2:00:20 GMT
Beneath a heavy cloak of moss and gray was torn cloth and open wounds unfit for the eyes of the golden maned cub whose kindness was directed towards him. A kindness he didn't feel deserving of.
"And you shouldn't stand so close to a sick stranger." There was a slight emphasis to his words yet he didn't do much as she touched his head. There was no fever, only cold. Bitter cold from his extremities. From the slow loss of blood.
"I'm sorry little lady, but if you don't mind, I'd like to return to sleep. I'm sure that woman you were with would be worried about you if she finds you missing by her side and conversing with a mummer from the east. Run along now... run along..." He sighed, slipping in and out into consciousness.
"Ellaria, not Little Lady." She stressed, seeming to incredibly unconcerned with his warnings. The small, warm hand withdrew from his cool forehead. The roll of the name off of her tongue was echoed by a louder yell; her Caretaker that had finally noticed that her charge wasn't attached to her hip like she had been moments ago. "If you get me sick then I won't have to write lines tomorrow." [break][break]
She'd much rather be outside playing, but if it got rid of that responsibility then she'd stick in bed. [break][break]
"Lady Ellaria!! Lady Ellaria, where are you?!" [break][break]
She took a moment to look over the cloaked form down on the ground, seemingly nodding in and out as if he were about to fall asleep. The shouts of the woman got closer and closer, yet the blonde didn't seem to be at all concerned with them. Probably not in the way Ellaria should have been. This, unfortunately for Elen, was commonplace. [break][break]
There wasn't a walk without the Cub wandering off somewhere that the first thing that catches her interest. This time, it just happened to be a person. Not an animal, or pretty plant or object. [break][break]
"Since you don't have a home here," The breathy pants of Elen reached the opening of the alleyway. Ellaria seemed too all interested when he'd said Mummer from the east, and certainly wasn't running along like he'd told her to. [break][break]
"I'll just share mine with you until you feel better."
Post by Ouroboros Sand on Sept 10, 2017 4:56:31 GMT
What sort of fool was little girl offering a roof to what could very well be a cutthroat? Naivety bled from her eyes and words as an all too unhappy caretaker fast approached. Golden irises glimmered with amusement as they were eclipsed beneath long lashes unfitting a mummer.
Was this a cruel joke?
He was ready to enter the halls of the many faced god but...
With some effort on his part, he pushed himself free of the dirt and muck. Open wounds sore and crusted with blood and mud acting like chains upon his person. yet still he rose. Upon one knee he knelt before the little lion, his crown of pale silver and gold bent before her. "Very well mein lady, little as you may be. If you permit me then I shant decline your offer, and most humbly accept."
If only to humor her. Maybe he'll try to live a little longer.
"Good," The older woman, whom had caught the tail end of the conversation looked like she was a half a moment away from calling it quits. A defeated air, one that she approached behind the blonde with and placed a hand on her shoulder. Ellaria tilted her head up to look at her, away from the kneeling foreigner and beamed. "We'll be taking care of him until his health returns to him." [break][break]
Another nervous, not quite sure whether or not she should disagree and drag away the girl or give up and let things continue as they were barreling towards look continued to peddle back and forth between the Caretaker's mind. "If you believe this to be the best course of action, milady, then you best tell your father when we return with him." [break][break]
The small girl made a small, hardly noticeable sniffing noise of a child that had just been given the ultimatum of do this or it'll get taken away. [break][break]
"Yes ma'am." She agreed not half a moment afterwards. A hand extended back out towards Ouroboros, inviting him to take it. "This way, this way! It isn't far from here--"[break][break]
Post by Ouroboros Sand on Sept 14, 2017 0:00:19 GMT
He struggled to return to his feet. Eyes half-lidded as he rose. His body was in pain, but he could manage this much, especially now that the little lady had given him cause to act a little more... uh... presentable. He glanced at the older woman, knowing better than to expect her to trust him. That's the wisest thing to do wasn't it? No trust him?
He gave her a bow and a reassuring look. "I swear to you I mean your charge no harm... If anything, I am eternally grateful for her kindness, and to you who've kept her safe for so long..." The sellsword's eyes fell once more on the lion, surprised to find her hand extended towards him. He was covered in filth and yet she didn't think twice to offer him her hand.
He really didn't wish to be rude to her, but he couldn't bring himself to stain her hands with the blood and muck on his, bowing his head in apology, though that hurt his back more than it should. "Apologies m'lady. I hope you won't find it rude if I do not take your hand. I simply wish not to stain your hands with mine filth. If you allow me, I shall follow you-" best as he can- "I am metaphorically, in your hands."
He was a gentle breeze away from falling over. He was definitely going to be in her hands.
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