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.
Cicero spends his days in trepidation that one day the Iron Fleet might turn its ugly head on the Lannisters. He is a strict admiral of the fleet of Lannisport, and keeps his men on their toes with inspections and exercises. He does all this with a level head and a smile, though behind closed doors an officer may meet an icier man should Cicero become stressed.
Post by Cicero Lannister on Aug 23, 2017 6:15:01 GMT
Golden lions crossed from the south, carried upon the crimson sails of a dozen ships in the afternoon sun. At the bow of the flagship leading the way, a man in a red coat looked impatiently at bustling Lannisport in the distance, his eyes squinting against gales of wind and a small frown upon his face. He had been forced to recall from a friendly training exercise with the Redwyne Fleet to the south, and while his men needed all of the training that his coffers could afford, the recall had been for good reason. King Jaehaerys had passed without leaving a clear succession. What this truly could mean for the days to come had yet to be seen, but in times like these Cicero worried even more about the looming threat of his neighbors to the north.
As the ships came closer into harbor, Cicero would scan the crowd in search of his wife. They hadn’t the perfect marriage, but she had always been there to welcome him home. Cicero himself would always try to wave and bear a smile, though other duties would proceed him shortly after his arrival. His brother relied upon him for the defense of Lannisport and its upkeep, a role that the second brother took very seriously. Still, he had been gone for nearly a month, and though he was coming back early it had been the first extended absence in quite some time. In his youth he was lucky to see his wife once a year, now he was at port more often than not delegating tasks to younger men.
Finally, Cicero would catch his raven haired ladies visage upon the port. He would remove his hat and wave it at her with a weary smile, as tired as his eyes were.Belana Lannister | OPEN
Belladonna was born into the Bolton family of Dreadfort. She now resides in Lannisport with her seafaring husband Cicero, her children, and of course her faithful dog.
Post by Belana Lannister on Aug 24, 2017 1:22:11 GMT
The sloshing of sea on stone was drowned out by hushed whispers as the Lady of Lannisport solemnly made her way, down through the slums, towards a grey wharf. She was flanked on either side by a garrison of soldiers, armor glistening as crimson banners embroidered in gold unfurled overhead. Her attendant held out a supportive hand as she stepped down onto the platform, her knees quivering ever so slightly.
The hem of Belladonna’s evergreen gown billowed around her ankles as she stepped out onto the edge of the pier to await her husband's return. She stood there, statuesque, as she stared out at an empty horizon for several painstaking moments. The crowd grew restless, fidgeting with their attire and offering sideways glances to neighbors, but the stalwart lady took no such liberties. Her heart nearly skipped a beat as a haze of white appeared on the horizon.
Ship’s sails came crisp into view as her hazel eyes narrowed against the sun. A nearby attendant let out a little gasp before rushing to her side with a lace parasol but she brushed him aside dismissively. The wife bit down nervously on her bottom lip, red paint staining her teeth, as she silently fussed over the grey of her hair and the creases under her eyes. She reminded herself not to worry as memories of passionate nights and tender moments passed through her mind. She watched herself from a distance, as though witnessing scenes from someone else’s life.
What if he didn’t love her anymore? What if he had found some young thing to worship on foreign shores? These thoughts were shattered as she caught sight of a greeting from the flagship. She raised a hand in acknowledgement as an exultant grin tugged at the corner of her lip and light poured back into her lonesome life.
Cicero spends his days in trepidation that one day the Iron Fleet might turn its ugly head on the Lannisters. He is a strict admiral of the fleet of Lannisport, and keeps his men on their toes with inspections and exercises. He does all this with a level head and a smile, though behind closed doors an officer may meet an icier man should Cicero become stressed.
Post by Cicero Lannister on Aug 24, 2017 1:57:35 GMT
Cicero’s waving towards his ebon haired bride was interuppted as the ship turned into port, forcing his gaze to the opposite direction. On his cane he began to hobble as quickly as his old bones as he could towards the quarterdeck, weaving beyond busy sailors preparing to bring the ship to anchor. In his youth, he would sprint to the other end of the ship so that he could continue to look upon his beauty, but with his leg it had become more laborous. Still, he would reach the opposite end of the ship in time to wave again. It was the thought that counted, or so he told himself.
As the ship was brought to dock, the ships captain poked his head out of his cabin and saluted Cicero. Cicero grined and returned the salute before turning about. As the ramp fell, the admiral would totter down the ramp, using the cane with the golden lion ornament upon the top to assist his movement down. With each downward step there was an uncomfortable pain, though he would keep a straight and proud face through it all. As he came to the bottom and his feet met level with the dock, Cicero would close his eyes and take in a deep breath of Lannisport air. Even though he was home on bitter news, he was still home.
The moment of felicity ended as several of his senior officers waiting at the docks came forward. They began babbling to Cicero all at once about numerous topics concerning the port, each wanting to be heard. Though he tried to take it all in, he felt an impatient urge to at least say hello to his wife, and he would eventually cut them short with a whistle. “We’ll have a meeting at headquarters within the hour. Get things ready,” Cicero ordered his men before dismissing them with a hand gesture. He would then begin slinking down the dock towards his wife. He hadn’t much time, but if he didn’t stop to say hello she’d be sour with him for weeks.
As he came into range he began to hobble a bit faster, smirking at her as he came to a labored bow and grabbed her hand to place a kiss upon it. “Is this your first time in Lannisport, lass? You should let me show you around some time,” he said as he looked up from her hand with a smirk. Belana Lannister
Belladonna was born into the Bolton family of Dreadfort. She now resides in Lannisport with her seafaring husband Cicero, her children, and of course her faithful dog.
Post by Belana Lannister on Aug 31, 2017 3:31:37 GMT
The raven haired Lady craned her neck to keep sight of her husband as the ship turned to come alongside the dock. She'd lost him for a moment as the young crewmen scurried about on deck but he soon came hobbling back into view. It was almost a relief to hear the rhythmic clack of his cane against the ramp. She was reminded of the grievous wound he’d received in battle and the agonizing months she’d spent at his bedside, praying in secret to the old gods of the forest.
An unwelcome consequence, the ornate walking stick had begun as a reminder of her husband’s mortality that now served as a reminder to be grateful for every moment she spent with her lover. It was a part of him now, an extension of his arm that distinguished him from his younger subordinates and added a hint of rugged charm to his already alluring good looks.
Belladonna waited with baited breath, hands folded across her waist as he slowly disembarked. A little whimper at her side brought her attention to her Mastiff, who was as crestfallen as she was when several officers stepped forward on business. The dog had to be well trained due to his enormous size but that didn’t mean he didn’t want to jump up and lick the man in the face just as much as she did.
She placed a hand on the top of his wrinkled head to steady his panting but her attention never faltered from Cicero. He wore the mantle of command better than any finery her servants could have produced. Her hazel eyes widened as his lips pressed against her hand, a coy grin tugging at the corner of her lip despite the somber purpose for his return. Her husband had a knack for making her feel special even at the most hectic of times.
“Mmm… Apologies, Sir.” She hummed playfully as she glanced over his shoulder, “I’ll have to decline your offer. My husband should be getting off that ship any minute and he always greets me with a big kiss.”
Cicero spends his days in trepidation that one day the Iron Fleet might turn its ugly head on the Lannisters. He is a strict admiral of the fleet of Lannisport, and keeps his men on their toes with inspections and exercises. He does all this with a level head and a smile, though behind closed doors an officer may meet an icier man should Cicero become stressed.
Post by Cicero Lannister on Sept 2, 2017 15:45:06 GMT
Cicero winked slyly at Belladonna as he moved up from her hand, traveling upwards whilst moving forward into an embrace. His cerulean eyes were met by his wife’s emeralds, and after moving his head forward he would lock slowly against her ruby lips, letting his eyes fall beneath their lids. He savored her for a moment, breathing in the smell of her flowing hair. He withdrew from her lips for a moment and looked upon her once more, grinning with a small bit of her lipstick staining his bottom lip, before returning once more for a quick peck.
He had always been quite lucky. He was born into the richest house, he had been born second so he had a degree of freedom, and he had managed to be matched to a woman who had warmed up to him. So many lords and ladies in Westeros were unhappily married, and yet even as they were growing much older he was still enamored with his wife.
“How do you fair, Belana?” he asked whilst holding at her hips. He had rarely referred to her by her full name, choosing his nickname for her instead. He heard the whimper of the mastiff at their side, and he looked down for a moment to see that the old dog was holding back some excitement. “And you as well, hound?” he asked as he removed a hand from Belladonna’s waist and place it softly upon the back of the ears of his wives protector. He moved his gaze to the animal for only a brief moment before returning it to his wife, though he let his hand remain open to the dog for nuzzling if it so chose.
It was nice to forget duty, if only for a few moments. Belana Lannister
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