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.
Perseus, firstborn of House Mormont, and supposed "Lord" after his father's death is a well seasoned explorer and master of different sword styles. He believes his family to be dead and left his home on Bear Island to travel across the world.
It was strange to be back in this city. And although he had been on the road and hard to give notice to, it didn't take long for news of the King's death to travel across Westeros. The moment that he heard that they would be holding a wake in his honor, he set off immediately in order to pay his respects. And while he did arrive late, and only managed to stay for a moment, he did his House Duties and was able to get back on his way.
Before he would travel back though, he'd take a night in King's Landing to enjoy the city that never sleeps - a place he hadn't visited since he was a young boy. Of course, things were much different now. Staying in a small inn, rather than as a guest to a great house, Percy now enjoyed the simpler pleasures. He met old faces and new; but didn't keep conversation for very long, as he wanted to enjoy the day while it lasted.
The salt stuck to the air as Percy sat along a stone wall, watching as the sun dipped down over the horizon of the ocean, listening to the sounds of gulls and the tides washed over his senses. He took it all in, rubbing a small cloth along his blade. He was still trying to figure out what his plans may be for the night - perhaps he'd visit some of the taverns and pubs. Or maybe he'd just walk the streets and explore the city.
Things had surely changed since the time when he was a child. The city seemed smaller - or maybe he just grew bigger. But the population seemed to grow in size as well, giving the illusion that this city was even smaller than it actually was.
But as the sun began to dip beneath the ocean waves and stars began to peak through the scarlet sky, Percy had stretched out his hands, sheathing his sword as he hopped down from the wall and began to walk the streets. Surely he'd find a lively place to find some good wine.
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Last Edit: Aug 30, 2017 7:15:03 GMT by PERCY MORMONT
William is a fair individual, neither particularly headstrong nor explosive, but simultaneously this leaves him isolated from many of his peers. He is somewhat silent, preferring to listen and to observe, rather than to place his opinions before he understands the situation.
Post by WILLIAM TARLY on Aug 30, 2017 23:59:03 GMT
THE PEACE
❝
BEFORE anything else is noticeable about the harbour from the road to Fleabottom, what immediately hits the nose is a mixture of fish, egg, and poverty. William tried not to think about the euphemism in which described the desperate state of affairs reeking from fleabottom, or his direct involvement in maintaining the status quo of security, but he imagined that he was not doing it any favors.
The number of incidents in maintaining the safety of King's Landing had been increasing, with more refugees piling at the base of the city from all over, the resulting situation had drastically increased the number of thefts and violence at the lower districts. William was on his way to ensure the captains did their work, no matter how unsavory it was. Sometimes, leading by example was the best one could offer, along with the idea that situations will be closely monitored.
Night had begun when he concluded his business. Heading home on the way from the guard posts, he spotted an unusual sight at the harbor. William dismounted and approached the man who had just been cleaning his sword from the wall. "That is a valuable sword, stranger." He spoke, indicating he knew of its valyrian quality. "I would suggest against cleaning it in public. Many would kill for such a weapon, and cleaning it by a harbor means they would have a means to quickly escape as well." Sadly it was an all too common appearance.
Perseus, firstborn of House Mormont, and supposed "Lord" after his father's death is a well seasoned explorer and master of different sword styles. He believes his family to be dead and left his home on Bear Island to travel across the world.
Words drifted over Percy's ears as he halted in place. Looking back at the stranger, he smiled lightly, looking back down to the blade that was sheathed to his side. Hand brushing against the handcrafted bear pommel. "You have a good eye," he nodded, waiting for the man to fully approach.
He gave charge to possibly not having out in the open - many would find it tempting to take for themselves. Percy chuckled lightly at the thought, daring any poor soul to try. It would not be so easy; but alas, he had not been here in years. Who knew what kind of crazies were running around on the streets.
"This area seemed fairly vacant, so there wouldn't be too much harm. It's more so a habit when I take time to enjoy the view though," he admitted. He took a gander at the clothing that the man was sporting; noticing a fair amount of armor, and he looked fairly groomed - noting that he must have been very wealthy or was employed by someone who was.
Percy usually didn't bother with fancier garbs, though because of the wake, he resorted to wearing his best. A beech, cotton tabard draped over his frame, held with a leather belt, with black trousers and bister boots. "From the looks of it, you've either come for the wake, or you're very popular in King's Landing."
He looked past the man as his eyes fixed on the lights that slowly emerged as darkness fell over the sky. He thought to ask if he knew of a good inn to stay at, or where to get the best ale, but his eyes widened as he shook his head with a sheepish grin.
"My apologies, I should have introduced myself. I'm Percy Mormont."
William is a fair individual, neither particularly headstrong nor explosive, but simultaneously this leaves him isolated from many of his peers. He is somewhat silent, preferring to listen and to observe, rather than to place his opinions before he understands the situation.
A ghost of a smile formed on the Tarly's face at his response. "One learns to be to survive this snake pit of a capital." The man's distinctive accent cut through, though less pervasive than others of the northerners, William could tell that his new acquaintance was far, far away from home.
"Your assessment is not wrong." He admitted, noting that the the spacing around the area allowed for visibility to be certain for a safe distance. "But the poverty around this area is undeniable. Men and women risk their lives for the chance to survive another day, let alone the fortune that Valyrian Steel may bring."
The Tarly nodded to his statement, "His grace's death affects the seven kingdoms, I was sent as a result. Your latter assessment is incorrect, I do not have the tact that is..." He paused, thinking for the moment, "accepted, in this city. Though, I believe it is more to do with the city's lack of dignity, rather than faults of my character." Though, flaws in his character were still part of such issues.
"William Tarly." He responded, shaking the Mormont's hand. He noticed the shade of red slowly turning blue in the sky, and that was a good cue for movement past these streets. "We should move to safer areas, no doubt you will want an inn. There is a safe one at Petal Street." He stated, before moving to take hold of his horse. "If you are the last surviving Mormont, then the weapon you must be wielding is Longclaw."
He stated, briefly observing the bear pommel against the hand-and-half blade. "There are many in the North that have asked for your return to Bear Island. Is it not your obligation to return?"
Perseus, firstborn of House Mormont, and supposed "Lord" after his father's death is a well seasoned explorer and master of different sword styles. He believes his family to be dead and left his home on Bear Island to travel across the world.
Percy smirked at his response, to which he was not "accepted" within King's Landing for his tack. Boy, could he relate. There was a reason he never hung out for very long in the Crownlands - despite his love of exploration. He had been all over Westeros, but his least favorite place of all was right here in this city. In a way, he just felt he didn't belong. It might be because lesser Houses were not treated in the same high respects as a Tyrell or a Lannister.
He chuckled a bit at the idea of the Capitol's lack of dignity - it was something that resonated with him as he looked toward the street that had given way toward Fleabottom. "I couldn't agree more. I'm not one for large cities... but this place takes the cake for the imbalanced separation in wealth. Even Oldtown seems a bit more equitable than this..." he scratched the back of his head.
Maybe it was because he was young. Or maybe it was because of how he was raised. His house was respectable, and owned quite a nice amount of land, but he was always taught to be humble. Perhaps if we were born into a higher house, he'd think differently, but if he had a disposable income like some houses seem to, he'd at least clean up the city and give the poor better living conditions.
As their hands shook firmly, he took note of the man's name - Tarly. It was a name that he heard before, perhaps over conversation with others."It's nice to meet you. That name roots from the Reach, yes? I'm a bit rusty with my education of all the Houses in Westeros. I'm sure my father has spoken of your family before."
The two briefly stopped their conversation as he spoke of a safer place to continue their conversation. They made their way to petal street as Perseus walked beside Lord Tarly, grabbing the reigns of his own horse. The man then spoke of Longclaw, and he looked back down at the pommel with a nod. "The blade has a lot of history. We were lucky to find it was still in my father's possession when they... found him."
He pursed his lips for a moment, thinking about the events that followed for a moment. It was surreal to be noted as the lone survivor of his house. "I suppose word gets around fast, doesn't it? I never thought there would be chatter of my disappearance... I do intend to come home eventually, but... now isn't the time."
He had hoped that his family would have returned home by now, truthfully. Perhaps many thought he was crazy for holding hope for so long - but he found it so strange that only his father's body was found. Many theorized that his siblings and mother may have sank with the ship, but it seemed so odd to him. In a way, his constant traveling was mirroring a search - scanning every street he explored for any leads to where they may be.
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