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.
As the Prince of Dragons and once in direct line to inherit the Iron Throne, Aerys's Targaryen's sudden disappearance from Westeros was a loss that hurt his family in more ways than one. After five years in Essos, the Prince has returned to his homeland with hopes to prevent another civil war.
Post by AERYS TARGARYEN on Oct 2, 2017 21:37:02 GMT
281 AC
In celebration of Soleil Tyrell's nameday, the Tyrell family is hosting a tourney that is said to be the greatest of them all. Lords and ladies from all over Westeros have traveled to Highgarden in anticipation of watching what is sure to be a spectacle. The Southern tradition of only allowing anointed knights enter tourneys had been set aside for this, allowing a number of other skilled participants to join.
The tourney is to take place over seven days, of which the competition would last five days, with three was allotted for the joust. There will also be a ten sided melee in the ancient style. Besides the joust and melee, there is going to be an archery contest, a horse race, and a tourney of singers. On the evening of the final day a party will be held in celebration of the tourney that had taken place.
It is currently the evening of the first day after most the guests have arrived. Lords, ladies, and participants all gathered together at a reception held by House Tyrell in anticipation of the following day.
Participation in this event allows one evolution for an item/animal/magic. There is no posting order. Post at least five times to be considered a legitimate participant.
The tournament will progress into the next day whenever a few rounds have passed or it is deemed suitable.
Soleil is the fiercely independent secondborn child of House Tyrell. She's cunning, manipulative, but kindhearted and selfless to those she holds loyalty for.
She honestly didn't expect to make it on time! She had spent most of her time on the road, of course she didn't really plan on coming home so suddenly. It wasn't until she had received word that her family was planning something for her nameday... and she was nowhere to be found. So she rushed back in a fortnight and thankfully made it home the night before.
Of course, she felt a bit distanced since her time away, since she was always on the move and ready to explore the world - many of the people whom her family had grown ties with seemed to become strangers and she no longer felt the same bonds she did before.
Now she had plenty of time to catch up with old friends and she just knew that this was going to come up, and she wanted to avoid it at all costs - marriage alliances. She was turning 18 - and a lot of people would think that its a bit too old to be unmarried and unclaimed for such a noble house.
So she decided to what she could with what she had, alerting her parents that she already had a date for the feast whom would accompany her for the week. She of course, would not tell them who, because... well she was lying. She didn't want to deal with suitors and hungry men trying to fight for her attention.
Dressed in her finest gown, laced down her back with silk roses sewn onto shimmering satin, she allowed her hair to fall down into perfect curls as it fell neatly past her chest. She strode down the hall and made her way to the hall where she would greet the guests.
Lyra is the third born daughter of the Vale. She is a kind and loving girl, generous to those that need, especially to those that are crippled and disabled -- which can be said is because of her comparable inability to see.
Contrary to the Vale which was dreary and bland, Highgarden was radiant and beautiful. Colors from flowers in their gardens, and the structure of their castle, it was awestrucking to the young lady. Where most eyes were fixed upon each other, hers were spent taking in the shapes and shades of the world around her. The sun had already set beyond the hills, only orange hues remaining, clashing against the clouds. They were to gather in a grand foyer for dinner and socializing, --a fun event where parents bartered their children away like goods.
The youngest child of the Vale, at 13 years of age, was now coming into adulthood, and therefore was treated as such by those around her. She was dolled up in the length of a sheer pink gown, and carried with her a chalice of rose liquid that she sipped from. The taste was bitter and dry, the fermentation of the fruit stinging her tongue as she drank; wine was what the adults drank, and so she forced herself as well.
She missed the comfort of her own clothes, and the feeling of Cherise at her feet, --her hound in which she was told to leave tied outside by the stables. Without her, Lyra merely swayed back and forth, afraid to wander too much in case of getting lost, or perhaps bumping into someone important.
The last thing she wanted was to make a fool out of herself by toppling over a servant with a plate of hors d'oeuvres.
Post by TRISTAIN TARTH on Oct 3, 2017 19:28:11 GMT
[googlefont=roboto]
Oh how he loved the extravagant parties that highborns put out! Delicacies that he was once able to freely partake from, Tristain could of had his fill of food and wine, now he was left to enviously gaze at those that walked into the foyer, --while he remained outside the gardens, only observing them from afar. Tis the life of a mere mercenary.
A year he had spent under the tutelage of the brotherhood had led him here, offering his aptitude for some coin to some pompous noble. The archer was one of many hired, and thus he was nothing special, which stirred his desire for wanderlust. Who would notice the missing of a hired guard? The kitchens, the barracks, and lastly the hall; they all suffered his curiosity as he scoured for any source of entertainment to lift his obtuse mood.
Echoes of voices, footsteps and the faint whisper of fabric brushing across stone floors. Waiting still, with a brow arched in interest, his pale cerulean eye taking in the sight of a woman. Amber brown hair, its length cupping her youthful face decorated with parallel hazel orbs. Dolled in a gown of lace and satin, --she was as general as any highborn.
What caught his gaze, was the crowd of younger men, three of them, that all gambled at her attention. He assumed words to woo the girl, chances to court her, and honest intentions. But from what he could tell, she wanted to feint off any advance she could. he chuckled to himself, observing the situation from a short distance.
He supposed that if they took it a step too far, that he would intervene appropriately.
As the Prince of Dragons and once in direct line to inherit the Iron Throne, Aerys's Targaryen's sudden disappearance from Westeros was a loss that hurt his family in more ways than one. After five years in Essos, the Prince has returned to his homeland with hopes to prevent another civil war.
Post by AERYS TARGARYEN on Oct 4, 2017 5:21:16 GMT
Months spent as a Tyrell ward had led Aerys to become quite familiar with Highgarden. Though he learned much during his time learning under Lord Stark and Lord Greyjoy, it was here where Aerys learned to play politics. The Tyrell's has stood as one of Westeros's most powerful houses for so long due to their history of making the right choices and backing the right people.
With Soleil on the road and Lorent in Oldtown, much of his time had been spent with Lukas. Though the Tyrell heir made for great company, Aerys couldn't help but share his stress. As the heir to a great house himself, it was like watching a mirror image from a distance. Every move they made was scrutinized heavily with the pressure of their familial history weighing heavily on their shoulders.
It was because of those reasons that Aerys had been counting down the days until the tourney.
The Targaryen's normally unkempt, silver wavy hair had been slightly tamed for tonight's party. He wore formal attire that was crafted by a tailor recommended by Lukas himself. Oxblood threads hugged his broad frame, tapering as it made it's way down from shoulders to waist. A black, three-headed wrapped around and was embroidered into his torso.
Aerys approached the gathering crowd around Soleil, putting his arms around two of her would-be suitors as a playful gesture. "I'm sure the lady has heard your rehearsed lines many times before. Perhaps spending more time practicing in front of a mirror would do you three some good. Isn't that right, Soleil?" Aerys said, his voice low and carrying far as purple eyes shifted from the three men to the Tyrell lady. He pulled his arms back and let them fall back to his sides, stepping in front of the three until the scattered. Aerys turned towards the hall that was filling with more and more guests before returning his gaze to Soleil.
"I've been spending the better part of the last few months in Highgarden. Lukas insisted, for whatever reason, that I stayed in your quarters since you were away."Perhaps it was a prank by her elder brother to give her room away or maybe there was more to it. Either way, Aerys had been moved into a guest room since her return.
Soleil is the fiercely independent secondborn child of House Tyrell. She's cunning, manipulative, but kindhearted and selfless to those she holds loyalty for.
This is exactly what Soleil was afraid would happen. It was her fault really, for pretending that she had a date and not delivering when she arrived, but she had hoped that the men who surrounded her would be a bit more... original with their compliments. Of course, she knew better than to express her annoyance and simply displayed smiles and laughter, giving the naive men all of her attention they desired - laughing at their jokes, and charming them with her delight.
But they wouldn't leave her alone. As if they couldn't understand that when someone begins walking away at the close of a conversation, it means that they have other people to entertain - but they followed her like baby ducklings, chatting away. After some time of pacing about the place, she had given up on her trial of separating herself, leaning back against one of the pillars of the large banquet hall. She would be polite of course, smiling bright and showing interest in her conversation, but goodness were these men dull. And OLD!
Suddenly without much time to prepare, the very prince of the seven kingdoms had approached them, a sly remark to the three flirtatious men before asking for the Tyrell's agreement. Her eyes had widened in surprise, and for a moment, she had almost lost her composure. A small laugh escaped her lips as she playfully rolled her eyes, shaking her head as she gave her immediate bow to his approach.
"Now, now, let's not embarrass these poor fellows! But I must admit you are not the first to pursue me with those words," she shrugged. At the very least, it was enough to get them to see themselves off - finally given evidence that their pursuit was all for naught.
Aerys had stepped beside her, and for a moment, they were silent. She felt a bit stiff to his presence, mostly because she knew that many saw her "lifestyle" as problematic for the Tyrell family, and she had no idea what the Targaryens had even thought of her. She wasn't even expecting them to show up!
"Thank you for scaring them off, Your Highness," she finally spoke, an attempt to calm her nerves by starting conversation. "My brother has talked highly of your visit to Highgarden. I'm sad I couldn't have been present for your full stay."
He spoke of his stay, but her eyes grew small when he had mentioned that Lukas had offered up her room for him. She froze in place, and her chest became tight at the idea of him snooping around her things, and she was immediately hit in the face with his remark of her decorations.
I knew I should have taken down that Targaryen banner before I left... and the books about their history... oh no...
She didn't know what to say, as though her tongue was cut right from her mouth, her eyes locked to his for a moment, before turning away and taking a deep breath. "Pardon me," she said quietly, before approaching one of the servants passing wine to the guests, taking one of the glasses in hand and downing it immediately.
She looked around helplessly for a moment, trying to find some sort of escape from this embarrassment, but realized she was being incredibly disrespectful to the crown by leaving in the middle of a conversation, taking several steps back to join him and laughing sheepishly.
"I uh... I... well... I admired your family a lot when I was younger--I was a little girl and I wanted to be a queen and... you know, that was a long time ago!"
Post by EDRIC HIGHTOWER on Oct 5, 2017 14:56:17 GMT
As oft as the man had visited Highgarden, it's silhouette never failed to surprise him -- nor did the details of such a powerful visage once he was close enough to see them. The amount of lush vegetation that circled, entrenched and swallowed such high rising towers was impressive, and although Edric understood the science behind such wonder, keeps away from the coast that managed to hold such beauty still captivated his attention; especially those plotted in the middle of vasts plains without the support from mountain rains.
As the heavy trots of destrier hooves smacked against cobblestone, the cadence brought unwarranted memories and thoughts. At one point in time, the Hightower lord would have been elated to attend the tourney and throw an ocean lily at the young Tyrell's feet after a win (for although he hadn't seen her since her childhood, Lorent was insistent on her beauty and Edric's own chances). However, now the only poison that seeped into his mind were the last words of his father before his departure as well the lingering thoughts of the pain of young love. What should have been, "Do well, my son. Bring back yet another title for the honor of Hightower and Oldtown" was instead, "Don't leave! That's what they want! As soon as you go Oldtown would be razed and it will all be in the fault of you!" Of course Gerold Hightower didn't truly mean it, but it forced the narrowed gaze of Edric that he carried with them.
Still, Edric was a heavy favorite to win between gamblers, and he had no intention of losing. In recent days, the man couldn't discern the difference between why he wanted to win so sorely.
Edric proceeded into the hall with an ivory half cape covering a deepened-navy doublet. His walk was of perfection when it came to form and function, the result of hard training his parents forced on him. He scanned the room as he walked in, offering bows and affectionate grasps to other lords and ladies while burrowing his way deeper into the lot of highborn. Eventually he would find his target -- a target of necessity and his own desire to be well-mannered.
Edric bowed to the young lady, who was as every bit as beautiful as her brother raved. In placement of desire in admiration in his eyes was a glossy emptiness, while his mouth argued with a smiled and the words, "Lady Soleil, Prince Aerys." He'd rather ask around for Lukas or Lorent, but duty forced him to stay footed to the position to continue the small talk, "You've grown beautiful and-- dare I say, strong?" Surprise caked his voice as he began to notice the subtle differences in her form that only those dedicated to the art of the sword would take notice of. Lorent did say she envied boys in a way though failed to elaborate how; maybe this was how?
He then turned towards Aerys, though this time having to look up at the tall and slim young man, "And Prince Aerys, you've grown tall and strong as well. Will you be in the tourney as well?" Edric's voice held a daring undertone and once he realized that he could best a prince, even his eyes were colored in with a little life to them.
As the Prince of Dragons and once in direct line to inherit the Iron Throne, Aerys's Targaryen's sudden disappearance from Westeros was a loss that hurt his family in more ways than one. After five years in Essos, the Prince has returned to his homeland with hopes to prevent another civil war.
Post by AERYS TARGARYEN on Oct 6, 2017 3:35:40 GMT
Whenever Soleil gave him her blank stare, Aerys couldn't help but feel his lips stretch into a smirk. Her sudden departure towards the nearest glass of wine before returning after having emptied her glass, still embarrassed at what was said. It was all enough to cause the Prince to erupt into a brief, hearty laughter.
Her suitors from earlier could only watch from a distance as Soleil's perfect and charming frame had been broken into this flustered moment. If there was something that Aerys and Soleil could relate and even connect through, it was the fact they both had to fight off potential marriage partners. Everyone lady with a name worth speaking wanted to be a queen. Aerys was the only ticket to that seat.
"So you don't want to be queen anymore?" Aerys poised, his expression surprisingly stoic. "I suppose I'll scrap the proposal your brother and I discussed with your father." The Targaryen spoke flatly, turning away from Soleil so that she didn't have time to study the lie he had told. There was never a discussion outside of a lighthearted joke here and there about becoming brothers, but he found teasing the girl to be amusing. As he turned, he was greeted by Lord Hightower.
Aerys squinted at first, eyes scanning the man's person for his sigil before putting together who he was. They hadn't met. Not formally, but he was from a house that demanded respect despite their vassal position. The Hightower's role in The Reach was nearly as vital as the Tyrells. Or so Aerys was told.
"Lord Hightower." Aerys greeted, nodding at the man before him. You must be quite special to have had Lorent as your sworn sword." From what Lukas told him, the younger sibling wasn't exactly outgoing. To pledge his life to another lord when his own standing in the world is already so high. . . It spoke volumes about Edric's character.
Aerys shook his head. "I've no intention in entering the games. Which will you be partaking in, Lord Hightower? The joust or the melee?" Aerys had assumed it was one of the two, as the other games carried less prestige for their victors.
Post by ALURA TARGARYEN on Oct 7, 2017 23:10:24 GMT
HOPE AND POSSIBILITY ARE BORN FROM BAD LUCK AND MISFORTUNE
Namedays, Tournaments, Weddings, --these were some of the few events hosted by members of the Great Houses that Alura attended. Most of the time she did not make an appearance for herself, but rather for her family's influence, what small impact they actually had. She was pleased to take part in such a successful turn out, the sights of Highgarden satisfying to the child of Summerhall.
A faint smile plastered to her lips, evidence of her strict upbringing as a Lady, and the ideals that she upheld from her fathers desire for her. She still remembered the day her marriage was announced, and the pride her father and older brother felt. She was sure that if her forebearer was still alive, that he would still share that same amount of pride over her own son.
Dark red liquid filled the cup she held, her wrist rotating to churn the contents of the chalice for her amusement. While these extravagant occasions were pleasant, they didn't hold any amount of entertainment for the woman, where as she would rather curl up in her chair and read of historical events that were much more exciting.
She could only hope for the morrow where she could spectate the planned games.
WINDS OF WINTER is the original work of AARON, AERIE and WINTER. Any and all content is copyrighted to WINDS OF WINTER.
Copying, altering, or stealing any of the site's content is prohibited.
All of WINDS OF WINTER characters are the original work of their owners may not be replicated or stolen.
All images and graphics belong to their rightful owners and WINDS OF WINTER does not claim to own any of them.
The skin was created by TIMELAPSE OF WICKED WONDERLAND.
