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.
in the latest midnight hours when the world has gone to sleep, you've gotta get up. when doubts begin to rise and the world is at your feet, you've gotta get up. reach, it's not as bad as it seems. i cleanse in the river for somebody else, for anyone but myself. i'm not a selfless man, i'm not a man of wealth.
❞
There was nothing greater that he hated then the sigil and house of the Iron Isles. The Sealord was absolute in Essos, but in Westeros many entitled themselves as his equal. Such beings that went beyond the self entitlement was House Greyjoy. A stubborn country that occupied the Western Seas of Westeros. The Sealords ploy was simple, he had sailed his vessel to the western continent to assassinate the Lord of Pyke. The man would make a perfect decoration for the males ship.
Under the veil of night he had sailed through the seas to the island, the waves made no disturbance beneath his command. Undetected by patrol ships and guards alike as he disembarked from his ship onto the island. The male outfit matched the pitch black night, even the stars were scared to show themselves on this night. Walking up to the castle gate without a fuck to give. Guards waving torches towards the man, he replied by waving his swords. Bodies fell to ground after a glimpse of steel.
Navigating through the entrance of the great fortress, following torch lit passages until he found a chamber protected by castle guards. Grasping for a torch and throwing it before the men the simple beings were caught in awe. Damien's weapon was drawn once more and brought across their heads. Cut clean off from their prior home as they rolled across the castle floor. " Valar Morghulis " the Sealord whispered beneath his breathe as he broke down the door, marching into the bed chambers with his weapon drawn.
Post by Eirian Greyjoy on Jun 21, 2015 5:27:33 GMT
IN THIS TWILIGHT, HOW DARE YOU SPEAK OF GRACE
The day had been a day like any other for the Lady Eirian of the Iron Islands. Filled with lessons, lectures, and attempts to make her memorize words she'd forget regardless of how hard she studied them. The mind was a fickle thing she gave up on trying to understand ages ago, and found her tutors' insistences on trying to get her to remember anything were now nothing more than aggravating by this point. She didn't care for these places, not unless they were her own, than she'd simply rename them all and demand everyone try and remember what she dubbed them. Then she'd laugh at their struggles, like the childish woman she was, and have her brief moment of glory that way. Ah yes, flawless plan right there, but with being the secondborn, and a woman no less, the world would not have to fear her renaming the Narrow Sea the Lady's Waist Sea any time soon. Unless her future husband permitted such a ridiculous thing, then there'd be some need for concern.
Regardless of the dangerous idea of renaming significant landmarks and locations - maybe even people if she felt spiteful enough - coming to her, the day had just gone on without incident and so she expected the night to follow suit. She had retired to her quarters a bit earlier than usual after dinner for no particular reason other than perhaps sketching in the quiet of her room. With a magnificent view of the land and sea, she had a perfect resource for inspiration and after dedicating hours to various beautiful drawings that laid across desks and walls, even some on the floor, she had finally decided to rest. Changing from the layers of her everyday attire to the simple long white gown for resting, she managed to go to bed with expectations of another dull day to wake up to in the morning and a simple repeat of the schedule she abided by for the previous eighteen years of her life.
But things were about to take a very unwelcomed and sudden twist that all started with her jerking awake. A nightmare that she couldn't even remember startled her awake, causing her to sit up right, sweating and panting. Thankfully it seemed she hadn't made any sort of scream that would cause a scene and she would much rather not have to deal with a nightmare of all things making her seem like a coward. Curling up in a ball, holding her head as she caught her breath and calmed herself with ease, the young lady found her bearings rather quickly. She gave a shake of her head, started to turn to fall back into her bed and resume her slumber. Or she was about to fall into the mattress but sounds outside of her door would have her turn towards it curiously, instead. Just after she turned, there was the sound of a couple of heavy items hitting the floor. The bright light creeping in through the crack beneath the door alarmed her. Had the Pyke caught fire? The guards would surely have come into the chamber to grab her by now in the case, and there would be yelling or screaming about the danger by this point, right?
Eirian slowly slid from her bed, beginning to silently walk towards the door to investigate. Perhaps a bit foolish to do so, but she knew she wouldn't be able to rest if she simply let this incident go unchecked. But just as she took a few steps from the safety of her bed, the door was broken down and revealed what was going on.
One certainly had to have a lot of nerves to break into the Pyke and slaughter their men. There this man stood before her though, all the confidence in the world in front of fire and blood, sword in hand and intentions clear. The blood splattered on the intruder's being and dripping from his sword had the Lady Eirian's stomach twist while she managed to - by some miracle - stay her ground before him. The startled expression she had at first became one of anger and frustration a beat later. Bare foot in just a simple white gown, she was totally wide open for him to strike down right then and there. He'd just have to clear the room first, a thought that quickly clicked in her mind. She glanced to the side quickly and discreetly, spotting the sword from her lessons resting against the side of her desk. Perhaps from the angle it sat at, her intruder couldn't see it, but she could only hope as her eyes turned back to him.
"I was not aware that I was going to be having company at this time of night. Had I known, perhaps I would have alerted the guards of your arrival and you could have skipped making quite a mess of my home" she spoke, slowly stepping towards the table in hopes that perhaps banter could buy her some time. Though, she knew it was unlikely, she was still going to try. "So, mysterious guest, who do I have the honor of welcoming into my chamber at this hour?" she softly inquired.
in the latest midnight hours when the world has gone to sleep, you've gotta get up. when doubts begin to rise and the world is at your feet, you've gotta get up. reach, it's not as bad as it seems. i cleanse in the river for somebody else, for anyone but myself. i'm not a selfless man, i'm not a man of wealth.
❞
An error had been made, the room he now stood in was not that of the Greyjoy Lord. The success of his personal mission had plummeted. Before him was either a dead child or a hostage, the choice was up to him. Knowing full well that leaving her alive would make his retreat difficult, and having her as a prisoner would only make it difficult to hunt the Lord. Leviathan had to make his choice now, before the Greyjoy woman attempted anything. Watching her edge carefully back in her white gown at first.
Silence was his ally, thoughts traced back to Braavos, the Iron Bank could ransom this Greyjoy daughter for a massive profit. The choice he had to make was evident, closing the distance between himself and Eirian. Weapon pointed right for the neck of the first born daughter. " Fortune has favored your father, I can not say the same for you Greyjoy spawn." the Sea Lord revealed to the young woman. The gods of the sea she worshiped would not protect her here, she was under the mercy of the Essosi lord.
Only keeping her alive for the sake of wealth, the young man signaled with his free hand towards the door, following her with the razor sharp point of the weapon. " You try anything I dislike and you will join the guards." Leviathan warned the woman to ensure her that anything else she tried would end in failure. " Now get on with it. We leave now." he ordered her forward, she would only have the clothes on her back on this journey. A hostage didn't really have a say on she needed to bring with.
Post by Eirian Greyjoy on Jun 22, 2015 7:53:39 GMT
IN THIS TWILIGHT, HOW DARE YOU SPEAK OF GRACE
As he advanced towards her, it became rather clear that he was not going to let her buy any time with some idly banter. She quickened her pace, backing up as he approached, but just as her fingers brushed across the table to touch the handle of her blade, his blade would reach her neck. Her body froze, Eirian no longer moving in fear that the slightest twitch could have her choking on her own blood. Gritting her teeth as she felt her hand tremble, her vibrant amethyst eyes locked on his gaze at that moment as he spoke.
Her fear was quickly replaced with disbelief and actual amusement. In fact, she almost laughed in revelation that she wasn't even the intended target. Was he unable to find her father's room, or perhaps he became afraid at the last moment to face her father? He certainly made quite the build up to this moment if the fires outside her door meant anything, but how anti-climatic was this? A very slight smirk started at that point, but she held her tongue whilst he gave his orders. Of course, had it not been for the blade at her throat, she would have busted out laughing already by this point. He instructed her to walk, but she didn't move, her smirk now becoming more noticeable, and the fact she was clearly more amused than anything at this point very obvious.
"You say fortune favors my father? Is this to say that rather than heading for your prize, you have stopped half way? For what reason? Are you afraid of what lies beyond the halls that have led you to my chamber? I am being threatened by a measly coward? Are you afraid to face my father, to stand before him with your weapon and fight him like a man? Or do you prefer to pick on the targets that cannot fight back, coward?" she inquired, her tone clearly condescending despite her situation. Was she mad? Probably in more ways than one by this point. "I wonder if you will be able to find your own way out of this now that I think more about it. Although, if you are a coward, running away from a fight will be nothing new to you and you will be quite the talented escape artist. You will need to be honestly. It is only a matter of moments before the..." The word escaped her and she shuffled about her thoughts, chuckling in the mean time. "Halls of my home" she opted for instead, "become flooded with guards. How many men did you bring, I wonder? It seems like it is just you from what I see. A poor choice when it comes to what you intend to do next. Do you truly believe I will bow so swiftly to you simply because you hold a glorified envelop opener at my neck, coward? If you wish for me to move, pointing at me will not get you far."
Even if she misjudged the situation, angered him, or whatever fate she just created for herself with her words, she felt that this was a far more admirable way to go. Standing up and laughing in the face of her potential death, it was not drowning by any means, but it was far better than simply rolling over and allowing this man to walk all over her like a doormat.
in the latest midnight hours when the world has gone to sleep, you've gotta get up. when doubts begin to rise and the world is at your feet, you've gotta get up. reach, it's not as bad as it seems. i cleanse in the river for somebody else, for anyone but myself. i'm not a selfless man, i'm not a man of wealth.
❞
This child has no understanding of just who she spoke to, a barrage of questions and insults falling upon his ears from the Greyjoy child. Since when had the Ironborn become so unbearable. Before any more word vomit could be spewed from her mouth the Sealord tilted his hand and brought the blade across her outfit. Half of Eirian's gown fell to her feet. Stomach and beneath on display for the young Braavos lord. " One more word and you will join the guards." the sharp blades tip pressed to her flesh, a small pool of blood tainting his blade before he forced the Greyjoy from her room. Bringing her with him by force.
Eirian would see what the male had done to her strongholds precious guards, blood discarded in each direction as it painted these halls. Pushing her with him until they reached the front doors that he had entered. Nobody would come to save her, nobody could stand before him as an equal. " Hurry up." Leviathan complained, this would possibly be the last time that the girl would see her home before being sold off or ransomed. " I will have no further delays." Damien explained as the two made it out of Pyke. The courtyard was reminiscent of the inner halls, bodies laid to rest across the landscape.
Without warning the Sealord released his hand from her wrist and slung her up against her chest, a hand draped beneath her soft legs, and another over her shoulders with the torn cloth. Damien quickly leapt over the low walls and slide down a steep hill, rocks rolling beneath his boots as they went from the high castle grounds to the dark rocky beaches beneath. A small boat for the two could be seen as soon as they arrived at the bottom of the hill. Damien would not release her from his grasp, pulling them up onto the boat and pushing it off with his feet. Letting the tide carry them out for a second as he placed his prisoner on the wooden seat before him. " You arent half bad when your mouth is shut."
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