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 Dalton Greyjoy on Aug 24, 2017 12:43:23 GMT
Sadly, for all her pouting and urging, she was not too convincing. No, actually, when she came at him like this, it only added to the experience, especially with that flushed red face of hers. It only made her even cuter in the kraken’s eyes, which in turn made it quite hard for him to stop. There was a certain urge to reach out and tussle her hair. It was not defeated by manners or restraint, but by her fancy hat. It was in the way and he kind of liked how she looked with it specifically, so he did not want her to take it off.
Thus, he simply calmed down, not even really considering it worth any other reply than his continued grin. “Surely I must know of such a place?!” He feigned being hurt by these words, if only for a brief time. “An honourable lord such as I would not know of any such vile place. Not at all.” Once more, he laughed briefly, but this time not at her. Instead, he simply reached out once more, putting his hand on her shoulder as he sought to coax her into a specific direction. “Jokes aside, I think I heard of such a place. Personally, I don’t really like whorehouses all that much. After a few months at sea maybe. But most of the time I prefer women that I do not have to pay and that did not have a slew of other men inside them in the days beforehand. Not sure how it is for women, but that is not the most pleasant thought to ever have.”
He left it at that before leading Cammy down the street they were on. There was a place near the border of Fleabottom that could fit her description. He had visited it once, with a friend. Usually, it was too expensive for his men which likely equated to being exactly what she was looking for. “And as for questions, I reckon what interests me most is what made you take to the sea? Most members of your house tend to be in administrative functions, not traders. It is dangerous business after all, even if you are safe from pirates and raiders. It must have been a struggle to be allowed to do this is what I would say.”
Post by Carmilla Lannister on Aug 24, 2017 19:59:00 GMT
Why? Ddidn't all men frequent such places to indulge themselves in sin and satiate their lust for the flesh? Apparently, Dalton wasn't the regular man. At least, according to his own admission, he didn't favor the whores who spread legs for those who had the coin. Then what did he prefer? Carmilla had to ponder as she wondered both in feet and thoughts. The Lannister greatly doubted he wasn't a man made. Surely, he had felt the taste of a woman whether it was her lips or the other lips between her legs. The thought of it forced Carmilla's to flush in red; she averted her amber eyes away, away from him; she was a maiden and a proper lady of House Lannister, she shouldn't give a thought to 'such' things. Apparently, Dalton enjoyed flustering her with his words and demeanor. And certainly, he was very honest about his preferences. "Ahem" She was trying to remind him this conversation was improper. "Ahem" She coughed again, but this time for another reason. "What?" What did he mean with 'Not sure how it is for women, but that is not the most pleasant thought to ever have.' Seven hells, what did he mean? "No, I am not going to sleep with a woman!" Carmilla jumped to conclusions and replied to her own defenses. Perhaps, she misunderstood! And perhaps, this was an understatement. "Why, why are we talking about this?" The Lannister's voice fluttered hoping they won't talk about these matters again. [break][break] Hmph.. [break][break] "I am the last seed of my parents," Carmilla replied, glad she was talking about something else. "They put all of their hope on Logan to be the heir of Casterly Rock, and Yuiliya exceeded all expectations when she became the Master of Coin at an early age." What she had meant to say was, her parents cared a lot about Logan and Yuiliya. What she had meant to say too was, her parents didn't care about her the same way they cared for her older siblings. "I was free from the cage of their anticipation, and was left to do my own bidding." This brought a few memories, indeed. "I wanted to be remembered as Carmilla, not as Carmilla Lannister!" A lioness who had pride in herself, and she wanted to gain strength from it. "I was always good with math, and had a good eye for opportunities." She stopped for a moment, thinking about what she had said. "I wanted to build an empire without depending on Lannister's gold!" And so was it, she became a trader on land and sea about six or seven years ago. A prodigy child, she liked to think of herself. "Did you kill before, Dale?" She continued walking by his side. "How did it feel?" If his answer was yes.
Post by Dalton Greyjoy on Aug 26, 2017 18:09:16 GMT
This girl had one hell of an imagination. Dalton himself was briefly perplexed that she had taken this interpretation of his words. Granted, they had not been the most clear elaboration of proceedings, but it took a bit to come to such a conclusion. And by doing so, the Lannister indebtedly got him to blush slightly, just because his mind idd briefly imagined her with another woman. That would be more than just a little interesting – but was categorically rejected by the platinum blonde. Not that it was his business, of course. Then again, the lion’s cub had brought it up herself, so she would have to suffer the consequences.
However, he did not yet reply to any of that, for she was giving a rather elaborate answer to what he really wanted to know. The story he heard was actually quite familiar to him. In his opinion, his siblings were the same in some regards. Stepping out of father’s shadow, carving out lives of their own, almost ignoring the family name. Yes, he had seen this run its course. He nodded a few times, briefly, before he had to chuckle. “An empire? My dear, you truly aim high.” It likely had been meant in a different way, but that was how he took it. Granted, the lady had already made it quite far. Having her own ship without any monetary infusions was no small feat. But a whole empire, that would not be easy. There were Seven Kingdoms and one Iron Throne standing in the way of that.
“But if it means anything to you, I shall make sure to only think of you with your first name in the future. It’s not that hard, you are not too much like the Lannisters I know.” A nod followed to reinforce that statement, before he went on to answer the question she had given in return. As they walked, she casually dropped something that was incredibly hard to describe. “I guess trying to explain the feeling proper to you would be akin to describing how what happens in a whorehouse feels. You will never understand what you did not experience yourself there.” The surprising return of the previous topic should net him another blush, so he smirked at that. “But yes, I have killed. Quite a few people. It feels…..very different, depending on the circumstance. Killing someone in battle, a man who tried to kill you, is exhilarating. A rush of victory that is matched by few others. There is something primal about just surviving. But executing a traitor that feels vastly different. Depending on who it is, it might actually sadden you just as much as a relative dying. It is also important how long it takes. Shooting someone to death with an arrow barely registers. Using your hands or a sword is much, much more personal.”
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