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.
the viper of the south rarely found allure in sands that didn't crush beneath his feet as that of dorne's grainy pearls. although many viewed him as stubborn and unwilling to adapt, the prince seemingly let all jabs roll off of his frame, clothed in the finest of orange silk robes one might add. a single cloak hung over his shoulders, and in relative difference to other traveling highborns, the number of his private company started and ended at three - the spear, blade, and dagger that latched onto his person. a single raven had been sent weeks earlier, giving prior notice to his impending arrival. the reception he received in the letters were .. less than amicable or respectful. one might have likened him to the proud stag that feasted at his table and the queen's view of him as the a venomous shrew that glared at him with solemn indifference.
being a major trading hub, qarth always had a figment of importance in the back of the prince's mind. not to mention, the cherished wine and other exotic trading supplies always remained vital to the lavish culture of those with a eye for silver. the need for trade went the other way as well, for qarth provided valuables and opportunity that many would be sorrowful without. so upon his dornish steed, the single prince left his company on the ship with enough food and refreshments available to keep their bellies full for a worthy amount of time. if all went well, then they would be brought within the golden gates that the city of wealth proudly hid behind. but as ebon's steed closed in on the gates and the distant guards grew in size, the black horse's gallop smoothed into a trot, eventually easing into a processed stop. sudden but authoritative, one of the watchmen bellowed a command, requesting identity of the supposed stranger.
"ebon martell of dorne. i believe the queen is aware of me," he noted, hoping that the women would give him the pleasure of a sit down if anything. for it had been years since ebon sunk his teeth in qarth's grandeur from within. it was only right that he returned to familiar grounds of old just as he did.
"...and then the the company departed never to be seen again." "Where did they go?" Inquired the brave young boy; his slave equally as eager to hear what happens after the end of a story. The Queen sat on her story telling throne with children kneeling before her; she eyed the boy with an encouraging smile. It had been almost a decade or less since she had heard of the activities of the infamous heroic group. She had recalled there being a parade, a celebration, and a party. All but a blurry memory. She had wished she could answer the boy's question. She shook her head. "I don't know." As she rose, her tiny followers and their slaves stood as well. They crowded around her with energetic anxiety at the thought of departing for another day, only to immediately back away as an armed man stepped towards her and whispered in her ear messenger words. She remained aloof and juvenile until she was left to her own device. She gave each of the children a hug before leaving them her departing words, "Goodbye children!"
Just as she had finished her fun, work began to sink in. She had thanked the messenger for not interrupting her time with a peck on the cheek. Her mind had riddled at "the entry request". Ebon Martell. It was a name that seemed familiar to her. She recognized the name, but could not remember any importance associated to the name other than it was a family name in Westeros. A place, although visited, so distant and foreign. ...Despite the letter reaching its recipient, Ebon Martell and the politics of Westeros were not a priority for the pureborn Queen of Qarth. Perhaps if she had read the letter in a timely manner, she may have been less eagerly surprised that a Lord had come to visit the city of Qarth. Naturally, the city guards would turn the solo-travelling highborn away since he was no merchant looking to sell and trade goods.
The Queen of Qarth would have the last say in the matter. Queen Minka was escorted slowly to the gates of Qarth, to witness this idling Lordling idle at her doorsteps. She held her slave's arm, linked affectionately and with a low-mischievous voice she mused to her small party: "How persistent do you think he is?"
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◈ MADE BY MINNIE OF GANGNAM STYLE
tag: ebon martell
Last Edit: Jul 31, 2015 1:15:53 GMT by MINKA MORDIO
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