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.
Post by LOGAN LANNISTER on Aug 17, 2017 15:14:47 GMT
The sky seemed to darken as the hope and light was drawn from it, the essence of such coagulating and gathering into the ball which formed in the beast's maw. Lowborn and Highborn alike saw this abominable act; their hearts sank within their chests, their minds making cause to flee. And so they ran. Tears and blood sliding down their faces and staining the villages, they fled toward the evacuation pathways. But for what? Would not entire cities be completely annihilated by this breath which the beast threatened their lives with? Would not they all die in the next few seconds? All indications pointed to the affirmative, and yet, they continued to flee, in their final moments of life clutching onto their sad and feeble existences. The sound of a roar filled their ears as the gathering ball of flame unleashed itself--
"M'Lord!!"
A slender hand cut through the air to deliver a push to awake the man, only, the man had risen from his suspended state from the disturbance, his eyes darting toward the young fair-haired man, intercepting his arm with his own hand, the sun already beginning to gently set west.
"I'm awake..." his throat dry, it had been two weeks since his arrival at Casterly Rock, and already the world had changed so much. The passing of Jaehaerys II had lead to infighting with his children, the three of them clawing for their own right to the iron throne. It put a foul taste in Logan's mouth, for their strife would undoubtedly effect his family.
His gaze turned from the sea-stained wall which he had been so snugly tucked away in, a light groan escaping as he stretched, his eyes drifting off into the south at Lannisport. One ship in particular was departing from the bay, heading south.
"Ser Logan," the young man caught her breath, "Your mother asked to see you," he said before pausing. Logan only nodded, and the young man quickly left his lords presence, the plates in his armor shifting as he returned to his post near the quarters of the Lady of Casterly Rock. Watching the single ship sail south of Lannisport, the candlelit fires aboard were snuffed out, immediately Logan turned his attention to the stairs, making haste to his mothers quarters.
The last daughter to the late lord of House Tyrell, Morella knows nothing below luxuriant wealth. As the third golden rose of her group of sisters, she was raised to be cunning and politically savvy. Her new role as She-Lion of House Lannister bestowed upon her an ample opportunity to insert herself into the great game of thrones.
Post by MORELLA LANNISTER on Aug 17, 2017 15:42:22 GMT
Ah, dragons.
So much of their lives are spent floating high above the rest of the world that the mere existence of the cities below seems like fable. So caught up in their own existence, so ignorant of the other players.
Dragons are not the only beasts with teeth.
To say she lost sleep over the recent traumas suffered by the Targaryen house would be stretching the truth. Dutifully, she accepted the invitation to visit the late king before the crown put him to rest.
Dutifully she kept her words to herself after catching wind of the three-way split of power between Jahaerys’ remaining brood. Business meant that the trip to King’s Landing was still as planned.
What insolent creatures. To think the each of them were special enough to rule that they easily cast stones at the rightful heir.
Oh, Daeron. What little these hatchlings seem to know.
Her own disdain towards her late father did not then see to her claiming Highgarden as her own. She knew the rules.
If victory was to be had, the only way to achieve it was to do so justly. Nothing mattered more than image, after all.
Morella’s thoughts were her only company for these few weeks following the announcement. Her husband’s call for his pride to return to their keep meant that her children would return to her. She looked forward to it.
Her eldest son returned but hours before this one. Seeing Logan again meant finally having an outlet for processing many of her withheld opinions. He was her first child, born to be molded into not only a lion, but a rueful rose.
The bond they shared was one that needed little vocal supplement. Small talk did not suit the two of them well, anyways. Besides, the current times did not call for such triviality.
She waited for him, eyes looking out from one of the large bay windows of her quarters, mind wandering far out over the seas.
Post by LOGAN LANNISTER on Aug 17, 2017 17:13:16 GMT
Logan snarled at the mess to come, that low growl automatically translated into its most base emotion. It was one he knew all too well. Too many nights spent buddy-taping broken fingers back together from punching brick walls, or sweeping up broken glass and picking up scattered papers after an evening of no progress or even setbacks. It was pure, unadulterated frustration. The feeling that came with being stuck, not being able to move as fast as you wanted. It was like running as fast and hard as you could, but just needing a little bit more. Another two miles per hour. And not being able to get it.
It had been long since he'd last seen his mother let alone spoken to her, though Logan knew their meeting would be above exchanging pleasantries as a lovingly mother and her dearest son. There was always work to be done. A goal to be set. Lannisters were never the type to simply settle, and with the news of the Targaryan ranks splintered to a third of their strength, it was obviously time for new allegiances.
He sped past a pair of guards who bowed before him, each lad built as if carved from slabs of stone; only the best to safeguard his dearest mother. With each step he drew closer, as did the night, until only the small pyres along the castle walls lit his march. Before long he had finally made it to her quarters, his fingers gently tapped against the heavy wooden door twice. "Mother, may I come in?" He was not such a monster to barge in without her compliance. He knew better.
The last daughter to the late lord of House Tyrell, Morella knows nothing below luxuriant wealth. As the third golden rose of her group of sisters, she was raised to be cunning and politically savvy. Her new role as She-Lion of House Lannister bestowed upon her an ample opportunity to insert herself into the great game of thrones.
Post by MORELLA LANNISTER on Aug 17, 2017 17:58:15 GMT
As she waited for her eldest son’s inevitable arrival, Morella lost herself in the grand visions that swirled about Logan’s person. He was a fighter, much more like his father in that way.
Though Morella tried to mold his mind in a way that fitted her own motivations, the young cub was stubborn. His heart was an enviable thing, though Morella saw it more so as a weakness.
Even with their differences, the two were amiable and, most importantly, supportive of one another. Morella wondered just how far Logan’s support would reach. Perhaps this night was one where this inquiry would be lent an answer.
His raps on the door caused her to turn some, casting her gaze over to where he stood. A typical mother would cross the length of the room and bring her long-awaited son into an embrace of some sorts.
Morella was not the type for such gestures. She stayed still beside the window, her arms crossing over the deep crimson silk of her garb.
”Please.” She would say curtly, the word evaporating in to the air as quickly as it formed.
Morella watched him move from the doorway, a warm smile brightening her well-rested features. It was then she moved to meet him at his side, snaking an arm through one of Logan’s own. Her own form of a mother’s welcome.
”I must say, I never thought I would see you up in these hills again. To say I am grateful for the circumstances that lead to this reunion, well..” She hummed, letting the sentiment drag on unfinished.
Morella looked up at her son, a smile still lit upon her lips. Something more lingered there, a subtle sort of cunning that extended beyond her words.
Post by LOGAN LANNISTER on Aug 17, 2017 19:41:18 GMT
"This is my home," he smirked, understanding where his mother was coming from. Logan had always thought himself destined for great things. To venture far out into the world, and have his name sit high atop the greatest of mountains in regards to the glory he sought. A part of him knew he couldn't achieve that sitting idly by at Casterly Rock. His mother had always engraved it in him to be better, not just for their House, but for himself. She only wanted the very best for her children beyond just being a 'good' Lannister.
Logan gently lead the two across her quarters, walking in stride with his mother. "Our home..." he looked down at Morella, returning a cheeky grin of his own.
For all the trouble in the world, Logan knew at heart what he wanted. What he desired. The stories he listened to as a boy had fueled him more so now than ever. He too wanted his name carved into history, though he was sure his mother would not sit idly by and simply watch her firstborn ride off to war without listening to her wisdom first.
After all, with wisdom came understanding.
"Father was right to call me back," he nodded.
"With the Targaryan's fighting over who has claim to the iron throne, the coming months could prove troublesome..." He froze, turning to face his mother, his left hand rose to brush a strand of her hair behind her ear, admiring her complexion momentarily. She was beautiful, and had the cunning to match. "And--opportunistic."
The last daughter to the late lord of House Tyrell, Morella knows nothing below luxuriant wealth. As the third golden rose of her group of sisters, she was raised to be cunning and politically savvy. Her new role as She-Lion of House Lannister bestowed upon her an ample opportunity to insert herself into the great game of thrones.
Post by MORELLA LANNISTER on Aug 18, 2017 1:38:17 GMT
His assertion did nothing to remove the mock-surprise Morella expressed towards his return. She knew Logan. His assurances were kind but unnecessary.
Though he felt restlessness, she felt strength. Having her brood altogether again meant crucial decisions could then be made at their whims. The next few weeks may prove decisive and productivity was key.
She hummed once more at his remark. Our home. Indeed, his formative years were spent amidst these castle walls. Beneath the watch of Morella and the Lion Lord. Morella eyed him for a long while.
The pair succeeded in raising leaders, certainly. But of what shade? Morella could see the anxiousness in her son. The yearning. Such desire stemmed from her own womb. Her lion cubs thirsted for something she too sought after long before they were born. Now was their chance to act upon it altogether.
In time.
”Political turmoil can lead to uncertainty. Your summoning was justified. Lions work best amongst one another.” The statements were matter-of-fact, her head found its place upon his shoulder and rested there a moment. Morella squeezed the arm she held.
”We cannot be too overzealous in the midst of this… tragedy. But, tell me, Logan.” The She-Lion picked her head up from where it lay, blue eyes peering into those of her son’s.
Post by LOGAN LANNISTER on Aug 18, 2017 13:12:14 GMT
The maesters of Casterly Rock had been instructed to engrave their teachings into Logan at a young age despite how much he fought them tooth and nail. No matter how far the lion cub stretched the idea of escaping their daily lessons, he was always attentive when paying attention to his mother's word. A part of him did it out of sheer love for the woman, only wanting to be seen in her good light; the other out of fear and respect.
While she may not have been gifted in swordplay, her mind was sharper than any blade. When she spoke, he listened.
Time had done little to change that.
He returned his mothers gaze with one of his own.
"When I was a boy I would tell father that one day, the Lion would no longer linger in the shadow of others," he peered down at Morella, caressing the arm she gently squeezed of his.
"Not the stag... nor the wolf, or even dragons..." he smiled, vividly remembering his fathers words. He'd called his son a fool, dismissing his boy to leave his quarters at once and return to studying.
"I meant every word of it, mother." Logan returned to reality, finding now a better time than ever to seek what he truly thought was his very right.
"Our family has always been together. Whole. Never fractured. We are a pride of Lions." There was little doubt in his voice. Logan believed firmly every word he spoke, holding it dear to heart. "While these other Houses try and tear Westeros apart, we have always been stable. We have never waivered."
He glanced to his mother, sure of what he wanted. "I want what is best for you, mother," his jaw clenched. "I want was is best for father, for our family." The thought of House Lannister atop the iron throne stirred Logan's heart. They would put an end to the fighting, an end to conflict. Under the wealthiest House in all of Westeros their leadership would spring forth a new age, where the Lion rightfully stood.
Logan's blue eyes met those of Morella's. He smiled. "I want you to look at your son and feel an overwhelming rush of pride fill your heart."
The last daughter to the late lord of House Tyrell, Morella knows nothing below luxuriant wealth. As the third golden rose of her group of sisters, she was raised to be cunning and politically savvy. Her new role as She-Lion of House Lannister bestowed upon her an ample opportunity to insert herself into the great game of thrones.
Post by MORELLA LANNISTER on Aug 19, 2017 18:42:12 GMT
Lions were beasts of pride. Exclusionists and elitist by nature the kin of House Lannister adopted these traits and treated them as sacred definitions of their general intent.
Dragons were monsters. Lions were kings.
Morella was always infatuated with the Westerlands and the wealth that flowed through its veins. True leaders knew how to sow their own fields and reap the benefits. They were not reliant on scorching the earth into submission.
Her time spent upon Casterly Rock nursed this affection to a point of obsession. Frequently, she dreamed of roses and lions sitting atop thrones of iron.
The world is telling me it is my time. She thought. A smile worked itself on to the corners of her lips.
Logan was a good man. Idealistic, certainly, but good all the same. His visions of grandeur were ones she sowed into his mind long ago, urging him to learn the games their opponents played and besting them.
Hope for a better future was a great motivator albeit not one the two equally shared.
Morella let the warmth of his exclamations wash over her. She reciprocated it with a happy sigh and a tightening of her hold on him. Her mind was elsewhere, plotting.
”You will come to the wake with me, understand? These next few weeks are paramount to any move we wish to make. The best strategy is to appear faithful for now.” She sighed again, downplaying the intensity of her words.
”I have big plans for us, my dear. The realm will thank us for them.” Morella pressed a kiss into the hand she held. ”My pride for you will know no limits.”
Her gaze extended beyond Morella’s quarters. She was looking into the future and reveling in what she saw.
Post by LOGAN LANNISTER on Aug 20, 2017 20:34:24 GMT
Logan simply nodded.
"Of course, mother." The wake would mark the reunion of House Lannister, for Logan's younger sister Yuliya was master of coin, and her priorities demanded she remain in King's Landing to serve on the council.
"I was planning on seeing Yuliya while we remained there. I have no seen her in some time."
Morella had instilled in her children a camaraderie unlike any other. They looked out for one another, and Logan forever remained the older brother who cared for his younger siblings, even Yuliya, who was every bit as capable with a sword as any other knight.
Still, King's Landing was a terrible place crawling with fiends looking to force their way into the good hearted; it was difficult for Logan, knowing full well the intentions of those within the city had hearts as black as knight.
He snapped back to reality.
"Faithful to whom, mother?"
He shook his head.
"One Targaryan speaks of her father granting her the throne, while another threatens the claim with half the royal fleet. The three of them..." he trailed off.
Logan knew better than to question anything. For now, he would need patience.
"Forgive me, please."
"I will take care of the carriages for the morning. I'll make sure the caravan is ready to embark onto King's Landing and with haste by sunrise." He stole a glance at the openness where Morella gazed out from, returning his attention to his mother.
"Are there any other matters you wish to discuss with me?"
The last daughter to the late lord of House Tyrell, Morella knows nothing below luxuriant wealth. As the third golden rose of her group of sisters, she was raised to be cunning and politically savvy. Her new role as She-Lion of House Lannister bestowed upon her an ample opportunity to insert herself into the great game of thrones.
Post by MORELLA LANNISTER on Aug 28, 2017 0:57:32 GMT
The reference to her younger daughter sent her heart east to the Red Keep. There, her daughter stayed amongst the royal dragons, counting their money. The aftermath of Jaehaerys’ death was surely causing turmoil now. Morella was not worried.
If Yuli was anything like her mother, these tumultuous times were seen more so as opportunity than mere tragedy. All of her lion cubs were raised to see things through a different colored lens. She eyed Logan with a mysterious smile.
He was a man of passion. His love for justice burned hot in his chest and some subtle pining for glory fed into those flames. Logan Lannister was a true leader; a man that deserved a place among the great heroes that colored all of the bard’s songs.
They will sing about him one day. They will sing about all of us.
Morella stepped from her place beside her son, turning to face him. Her expression denoted some queer delight; a smile too crooked, a gaze too strong. She brushed her thumb across one of Logan’s tanned cheeks.
”The wheel is spinning, this is true. Where it goes we cannot say. However, its path can be changed. Let the Targaryens mourn their losses and fight amongst themselves.”
The woman’s voice was soothing, motherly. Her grin softened into a caring smile.
”Logan, our stay in King’s Landing will be a time of… self-exploration. I have great plans for us that I will reveal to you soon. Though this information is for all of our pride. For yours, Carmilla’s and Yuliya’s ears.”
Morella embraced her son as she spoke, the weight of her words being lost in the tender and loving gesture.
”The journey will be long, but the fruits we stand to gain are the sweetest kind, my dear.”
Post by LOGAN LANNISTER on Aug 29, 2017 0:46:14 GMT
How long would the Targaryens infighting go on?
How much blood would be shed?
Would there be anything left once their dance concluded?
The cycle of history often repeated itself, much to the merriment of those responsible. They were approaching the hour of change, for when only a power began to fade would another come and liberate Westeros. The fate of the people now relied upon two sides; one doomed to perish in fire and slaughter, and one that shall endure whilst they had the strength to defend it.
These were the end times.
"The wheel can change..." he drifted, his brow furrowing. The wheel had gone on long enough, he thought, remembering his vows taken all those years ago. The Lannisters were a proud House, feared even. Yet Logan wanted much more, for the people, for their future.
Logan returned Morella's embrace with his own, savoring the tender moment for he knew it would not last. "I will trust in your judgment, mother."
Westeros was in need of change, and Logan was looking forward to becoming the pillar to build it. Their road ahead would be long and hardened, undoubtedly testing their unity as a family and as the greatest House among the seven kingdoms. It was a challenge befitting of lions.
Gently he shifted from their embrace, gazing into his mother's eyes. "I will see you in the morning," he kissed her on the forehead before making his way to exit her chambers.
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