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 Aug 19, 2017 5:38:38 GMT
281 AC
Braavos was the greatest place in the known world.
That was what Aerys Targaryen had been led to believe, having arrived in the midst of their annual ten days of feasting and celebration in remembrance of the historical Unmasking event. The teenage prince had hadn't enjoyed his boat ride from King's Landing to Braavos in the least, having been forced into a small, cramped quarters unbefitting of royalty. He was no royal though, not in Braavos and not under the cover he had taken to avoid Westerosi pursuers that would see him returned safely in the Red Keep. Aerys was never one to be bratty despite the life he lived, but it did take some adjusting when he realized not everyone that surrounded him was going to make their life's mission to appease him. At times it was frustrating, but once he had gotten used to it was liberating.
His fondness of Braavos had been swept in confusion after all the constant parties had suddenly stopped. It wasn't until after the fact that he realized their lively attitudes was a product of their holiday. Once he had sobered up, Aerys took to the streets to seek out what he had came to Essos for: a trip to Old Valyria. It was a place littered with dangers--he couldn't go alone and needed to seek out a party to accompany him. Naturally, Old Valyria wasn't a place even the most seasoned explorers wanted to venture to. His next option was hiring out a mercenary company, but with no funds Aerys quickly dismissed those thoughts. Unwilling to reveal his identity, it was only natural that the Iron Bank turned him away.
Aerys found himself in the Black Bargeman, a tavern south of Ragman's Harbor, pulling down the hood from his brown cloak whenever he entered. Taking a seat, Aerys gestured for the bartender to bring him wine as he propped his elbows against the counter, running his hands through his disheveled white hair. Coming to Essos without a proper plan wasn't his best move, but the dragon dream that haunted him after his nameday robbed him of any proper clarity.
Post by SAERA TARGARYEN on Aug 19, 2017 21:50:25 GMT
Saera Targaryen was not supposed to be this far south of Ragman's Harbor. It was not just a rarity, but mere happenstance that she had gone this far south. The young lady was a ward of the Sealord. People who resented the Sealord's influence and power might seek to use her against him; or even worse, against House Targaryen. The fact that she was in such a poor district showed just how reckless Saera could be. In the midst of the festival that the city was celebrating, no one paid any attention to a hooded young woman with a man following closely behind.
Ser Tristifer Thorne was her sword shield and one of the best swordsman she had ever met. Like her, he was currently wearing a cloak whose hood was shadowing his face. Tristifer had protested, trying to advise her against traveling so deep into the bowels of the city, but ultimately she was unstoppable. Even a knight as skilled as he could not stop a dragon.
Their destination was a brothel by the name of the Satin Palace. It would not be Saera's first time visiting the establishment, nor would it be the last. It was quieter than other brothels Saera had seen; a place of whispered endearments, the soft rustle of silk gowns, and the giggling of girls. The brothel was close now. She could smell it. The scent of perfume greeted her nostrils as she and Ser Tristifer navigated quickly through the crowds, keeping their heads low.
"Wait." Tristifer said in a hushed whisper, grabbing her wrist and stopping her. Saera turned to him, a look of confusion on her face. Tristifer was not looking at her, though. His sparkling blue eyes were peering through a dirty glass window and into the tavern they stood outside of. He pulled her close to him to she could look and Saera almost instinctively curled into his chiseled body. Their relationship had gotten far more intimate in the past year, and often Saera had trouble hiding her feelings for the knight. She resisted, though, pulling her wrist from his grasp.
"What is it?" Saera questioned, concern lacing her words.
The last time Tristifer had been stopped in his tracks so suddenly was when a lance had unseated him from his horse. Tristifer pointed his gloved hand at a man that was seated at the bar inside. Silver curls fell down the man's shoulder, and though it had been many years, a stab of longing filled her as she caught sight of those lavender eyes. He could have dyed his hair and dressed in rags, but Saera would have still recognized her cousin.
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 Aug 19, 2017 22:57:24 GMT
Aerys's frustrations slowly faded with every drink the bartender brought him. What started out as a glass of wine turned into Aerys trying the tavern's homebrew beer, the Targaryen prince giving what he believed to be piss water a chance. He was surprised, though. Compared to what they had to offer in Flea Bottom, the beer in Braavos was a significant step up. "Another!" Aerys demanded, lifting a finger. The bartender was happy to oblige, filling his glass and sliding it over.
"Friends of yours?" The bartender spoke, briefly directing my attention towards the window with his own eyes before returning to work. Aery's didn't look immediately, lifting the tall glass to his face as he began to chug the drink, shifting his attention towards the window until two sets of purple eyes locked onto one another. The prince of dragon's mouth hung agape when he realized who he was looking at—Saera Targaryen. The glass of beer that had been draining into his mouth instead spilled onto his lap until it was nearly empty.
His trance like stare at Saera was suddenly broken when he slammed the glass down onto the counter. "Saera!" The boy exclaimed as he scrambled off the barstool, only to find his chair tipping over until Aery's entire body hit the ground. "Ugh..." Aerys groaned, rolling onto his back. The beer he had spilled on his lap making him look like he had pissed himself as nobody rushed to help him like they would have in the Red Keep. "These chairs should be bolted to the floors..." His first reaction was to shift the blame away from himself, as the prince of princes could not have possibly done something wrong.
Post by SAERA TARGARYEN on Sept 4, 2017 0:30:53 GMT
Saera and Tristifer both moved swiftly once they made eye contact with Aerys Targaryen. She had been in Braavos for some time, but she still received letters from her family in King's Landing and other contacts she had throughout the Seven Kingdoms.
Saera was not so uneducated in current gossip that she was unaware that the heir to the Iron Throne had vanished.
And here he was. The lost dragon. When he had initially gone missing, it was Saera that had greeted envoys of her Uncle Daeron at the docks and escorted them to the Sealord. When their search for the lost dragon had come up empty, it was again Saera that escorted them back to their shops and watched them disappear on the horizon.
Saera entered the establishment just as Aerys toppled from the barstool and fell to the ground. She rushed to his side while Ser Tristifer scanned the room for danger, a hand on his castle-forged steel. There was a rustle amongst the other patrons of the tavern, and a few whispers. Saera's skin tingled as she heard someone say her family name beneath their breath.
"Let's get you up." Saera said, her voice strong and commanding. Without waiting for her cousin to protest or accept, she grabbed his forearm and yanked him to feet with surprising force. Her training with the First Blade had been improving her swordsmanship, but also her speed and strength.
"Come, cousin." She said quietly so no one else could hear her. She threw up the hood of his cloak to conceal his unmistakable white hair. "I know a place we can speak privately."
Tristifer stood vigil, a hand on one of his swords, as the two Targaryens made their way toward the exit.
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 Sept 4, 2017 22:35:40 GMT
His attempts to keep a low profile within Braavos had ended up being futile. The words Targaryen were already being muttered among the crowd that had began to gather around him by the time Saera had also entered the scene. Aerys's eyes shut briefly as he began to find comfort in the floor in his drunken stupor. That was, at least, until he was forced onto his feet by his cousin.
"So it is you. . ." Aerys said as the voice he heard rang in his ears with familiarity. "I thought you were taller." He muttered as she threw the hood of his cloak over his head and pulled him along through the crowd. Aerys gave a half-effort salute to the knight they passed up on their way out as if he was commending Tristifer on a job well done. Once the were out and into the streets, Aerys gave Saera some resistance so she would slow down.
"You were in a brothel." The Targaryen prince said teasingly, as if he had caught his cousin doing something he could hold over her head for a favor, lest she wanted him to tell Alysanne. Those days were behind them, though. The two of them were in a foreign place surrounded by foreign people. "If you plan on taking me there, I'll have to warn you." Aerys said as his lips stretched into a smirk.
"I don't think you can afford me." There was a short silence following his words before the prince erupted into a loud, obnoxious laughter.
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