A Game of Thrones: Battle for Westeros

A Game of Thrones: Battle for Westeros

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It has been three centuries since Joffery's reign as king, and now Westeros is divided into three main Kingdoms. There's plenty of inner turmoil between the House, and now, slowly, the Houses are beginning to vie for control over Westeros.

1,248 readers have visited A Game of Thrones: Battle for Westeros since Ichigo15 created it.

Copyright: The creator of this roleplay has attributed some or all of its content to the following sources:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/a_song_of_ice_and_fire

Introduction

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Many centuries ago a war was waged pitting House against House in a battle for the throne. A great king, a mad Dragon, was dethroned as his men, children, and descendants were slaughtered in the name of justice. This Mad King had killed many for erratic reasons, often initiating bloodshed with little prompting. His house was the House Targaryen, and their House was the one that had submitted to madness. No longer was the madness simply a result of old age and scarred memories; it had been embedded in the very essence of the Tarygaryen's, an infliction that was the result of generations of inbreeding to produce the purest Targaryen's possible. The purest Dragons.

When the Mad King's rule became overwhelming he was met with a challenge; a family descended of the bastards of his own House. The Bastard House, had produced a great warrior, a gallant man, ever more enraged when the love of his life was slipped from under his nose by the King's son. She was raped and killed and the initiator of the year long rebellion known as Robert's Rebellion. Robert Baratheon, of the Bastard House, led the rebellion himself in the name of his beloved. Through many a battle the Mad King was brought to his knees and slaughtered like a cow by the golden claw of a lion. A man, appointed by the King himself, a Lannister, had slipped his iridescent sword between the Mad King's ribs and eradicated the last ruling Targaryen King of the Land of Westeros.

Regardless of the Lion's motives, the Crowned Stag was proclaimed king. Robert Baratheon took the Throne as the first Baratheon to have ever ruled Westeros.

The Mad King's last remaining children, who had been but babies, were shipped across the Narrow Sea to Essos to live out the rest of their years as the exiled Prince and Princess and the last remaining pure blooded Targaryen's in the world.

In a show of peace making, Robert Baratheon was betrothed and wedded to Cersei Lannister, as the Lannisters had been on the Mad King's side until the very end, when Jaime Lannister chose to betray the Mad King and was proclaimed Kingslayer. For a few years there was peace. The King and Queen made three children, all as beautiful and shining as their mother, with not a shed of their father's features. Yet, peace had not settled under the veil of the Baratheon's rule.

The King's Hand, Jon Arryn, died. Or rather, was murdered. Jon had been poisoned under order from Cersei Lannister. The Arryn had wittingly found that Robert's three children were illegitimate and had been fathered by Cersei's own brother, the Kingslayer, Jaime Lannister.

Robert, thereafter, chose the next best man for Hand. Eddard Stark of the House Stark, who had fought along Robert in his rebellion and was like a brother to him. Stark and his family became deeply involved in Arryn's murder when his young son, Bran Stark, was found fallen from the spires of the Stark castle and crippled. Eddard subsequently discovered Cersei's betrayal of the Throne through her three illegitimate children. However, Robert passed away due to a fatal hunting injury before Eddard could successfully pass this information to the King and act upon it. Robert's bastard heir, Joffery, was placed upon the throne for Cersei to manipulate in favor of the Lannister's. Joffery, who had always been a tad more insane than his siblings proved to an erratic heir to the throne.

Furthermore, through a series of unfortunate events, Eddard Stark was beheaded under Joffery's orders. When word reached the ears of his eldest son, Lord Robb Stark, the War that had been looming above Westeros's head for so long finally broke out. Westeros was split into many parts, with many Lord competing for the title of King.

The entire of vast expanse of Winterfell remained under the control of the Starks, up until the border of The Twins. From the Twins till the border of the Lannisters and King's Landing came under the control of the Arryns, where the Tully's pledged their loyalty to the House Arryn. From the Lannister's and King's Landing all the way down south, remained under the control of the Lannisters. All Houses south of the Lannister's were, and still are, under the command of the House Lannister, including the Martell's, Tyrell's, and unfortunately for them, the Baratheon's. The Greyjoy's on the Pyke islands pledged themselves loyal to the Starks. Across the Narrow Sea, the Queen Daenerys and her Dothraki remained safe from the Throne Wars of Westoros.

Joffery had an exceedingly early death, and passed away childless and lonely. By then, at least twelve years had passed and the fight for the throne had grown weak. In that time the Starks had grown strong under the steady guide of Lady Arya's hand. Where her brother had been killed, and her sister a failed, naive, leader, Arya flourished and made the armies of Winterfell a formidable enemy, even to the Lannisters. However, the entire army of Winterfell could not overpower the combined strength of the Lannisters, Martells, Tyrells, and Baratheons. And while the Greyjoys were an appreciated ally, their power over the years had withered terribly.

Unfortunately for the Starks, Robert Arryn chose this time to betray the trust between the Starks and himself (not to mention the blood relationship) and proclaimed himself King of the Narrow Sea, keeping a firm grip on the lands from The Twins down to the Lannister border, and reigning in the Tully army for his own. Robert Arryn was a stubborn, arrogant, mule. Not only were his lands a prominent division between Winterfell and the South of Westeros, but Robert was a sour and stupid man in war. He never attempted to compromise with either side. Nor did he ever see the opportunity to end the war.

After Joffery's death, his younger brother Tommen Lannister came into rule. Tommen was a much gentler, much wiser, man than his brother, and he saw many of the faults with Joffery's rule, acknowledging that, as bastard children, neither of them should have held the throne.

With Tommen in rule, conditions would have been optimal to negotiate a peace treaty between Winterfell and the South. Not to mention that, at the time, both Tommen and Arya were at ages where marriage would have been looked upon as a favorable act. However, Robert Arryn and his army of Arryns and Tullys stood in the way, and Westeros remained divided with each side regarding the others as enemies.

While this was going on Aegon VI Targaryen had built up resistance and formed a new House Targaryen. He attempted to woo his aunt Daenerys, in order to one again make the blood of Dragon pure, be soon found that Daenerys had no interest in courting him. As a result, the House Targaryen of Westeros (as it is now called) became heavily diluted, and Aegon VI's present House no longer expressed the white hair and indigo eyes of the true Targaryens. However, they continue to be a formidable family, and out of fear, the Lannisters granted them King's Landing and Dragonstone as their own. They changed their last names from Targaryen to Aerys and their words are "Burn Them".

It has been three centuries since Joffery's reign as king, and now Westeros is divided into three main kingdoms. The North, ruled by the Starks, the South, rule by the Lannisters, and the middle lands of Westeros ruled by the Arryns. There's plenty of inner turmoil between the Houses, and now, slowly, the Houses are beginning to stir and vie for control over the Kingdoms.

For the first time in the history of the Three Kingdoms of Westeros, the Lannisters have proposed a sort of competitive gathering. A festival of sorts, for the Houses, held on the continent of Essos, that will include archery, sword fights, and tourneys. It will also include various carnival styled games for the various Houses (including the lesser Houses that may chose to attend), as well as hitchhikers who make the journey across the Narrow Sea with the Houses. Each House has hired its own ship, as it would be folly for the Houses to travel together, since betrayal seems to be the Houses' strong suit.


Houses' Motives

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Old habits die hard, and the Lannisters remain a cunning family. The Lannisters believe that they can acquire all of Westeros and have a plan for such an occasion. They have various motives, including an attempt at finding and eradicating the last of the Targaryens.

Since Daenery's rule as khaleesi all of her descendants have been female, and each has only produced one child, including herself. One, seemingly, invincible child. And all increasingly more powerful than the last, though fathered by who, no one can say.

Word has reached that the Dothraki have a prophecy that details the reincarnation of the original Khal Drogo and Daeynery's, and that, once again, the stallion who mounts the world will have an opportunity to be born.

The Lannisters seek to slay that stallion before it ever leaves the womb. The Lannisters also plot to either combine their House with the Starks (through marriage) or demolish the House altogether.

Note: While the Lannister are cunning, not every Lannister is evil. If you chose to rp this House not ever single one of your characters must be evil. This goes for any other house that is deemed "cunning".

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The Starks too, wish to quell the feelings of distaste between themselves and the Lannisters. At the same time, they seek to liberate the Baratheon's from under the Lannister's control. After the deaths of Robert, Renly, and Stannis, the only remaining Baratheons were all Robert's Bastards, and Stannis's daughter. While Stannis's daughter became head of the Baratheon's, the Starks were forced to provide refuge for any of Robert Baratheon's bastards. This last child Robert had, was, ironically, a child of Cersei Lannister and himself, conceived just before the King's death. After Cersei's exile from the Lannisters, a repercussion for her incestuous relationship, she was forced to leave her children with the Lannisters and find safe haven with the Starks.

This has subsequently made the House Baratheon noticeably weaker than before, as the Baratheon bastards and Cersei and Robert's last child, have all crossbred into the Stark family. As such, however, the Starks feel it their duty to release the Baratheons from their prison under the Lannister's hands.

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The Baratheon's are no longer as strong as they once were. They continue to be made of courage, but their waned power prevents them from usurping the Lannisters for control of the South. The primary reason they are attending the gather at Essos is to gather allies amongst the other Houses. Where the Starks seek to make peace with the Lannisters, out of vengence, the Baratheons wish to crush the Lions instead. They believe King Robert's death was planned, and hold the Lannisters in contempt for the incest practiced during Robert's reign. They also firmly believe that the Starks betrayed them by not fighting for them when the time called, though this was largely due to Robert Arryn's folly during the war. As a result, they do not wish to ally themselves with the Starks.

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The Tully's wish to side themselves with the Starks. Their reasoning is simply; the Tullys live in the Arryn's shadows. They believe that the Starks still remember that there is blood between the two, as Catelyn Stark was first a Tully, and wish that the Starks would overthrow the Lannisters and become the Kings of Westeros. The more sly members of the Tully's conspire to capture the Arryn's armies, to do to the Arryns what the Arryns did to them.

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The Targaryens of Essos, which are limited only to Daenerys and her line of female descendants, continue to express the genes for white hair and indigo eyes. It is said that, unlike Aegon VI the magic in Daenerys blood runs strong. The present Dothraki Queen, a Targaryen, will lead her Dothraki to greet the Houses, but that is all. They will not participate in the games, and Houses are not allowed near the Dothraki city unless they leave their weapons behind.[/COLOR]

The Aerys, formerly know as the Targaryens of Westeros, and descended from Aegon VI, seek to once again attempt to make peace and combine with Daenery's descendants. They yearn for the flag of the three headed dragon and the trademark white hair and indigo eyes to be in their blood again., They have had to replace their flag. Their flag is the inverted colors of the Targaryens, in green and white, with the single head of a dragon as its trademark.

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The Arryns are a family that has become almost as cunning as the Lannisters. They fear the Tully's impending threat, and plan to negotiate peace with the Lannisters. They also want to manipulate the Lannisters into destroying the Starks. If there is one thing the Arryn's hate more than the Lannister, its the Starks, ironic considering that once upon a time the two Houses shared blood.

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The Greyjoys are known for various failed rebellions. They have little reason for attending, but are loyal to the Starks non-the-less. They would prefer if trickery and cunning not happen during the meeting Essos, but fear it is unavoidable. In the past years, their smug confidence has withered away as they have realized that out of all of the Houses, they are possibly the weakest.

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The Tyrell plans to usurp the Lannisters working together with the Martells. the Martells wish for the the Dornish Kingdoms to rule Westeros, and so the Tyrells, hoping to overpower the Lannisters, have agreed to work alongside them. Neither side speaks of powers, and should they succeed in defeating the Lannisters, each House would undoubtedly be put against each other in a battle for the South.

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The Martells wish to bring power for the Dornish Kingdoms. They have allied themselves with Tyrells. Both Houses are under the command of the Lannisters, but their close proximity to one another, and the fact that the Lannisters cannot always monitor them, has meant that they have been able to have frequent, secret meetings, away from the Lannisters eyes, and have divulged a plan to usurp the present Lannister Lord. Martell plans to marry one of theirs with one of the Tyrells so that war will not break out between the two, should they succeed in gaining the South.

NOTE TO THE RPER: While there are the main Houses here, if a lesser House is desired, whoever wants it should notify me, and if you could, make a current motive for the House ^.^ I can do it, but it would be a great help if you could too :3

HOUSES


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  • Raith Lannister
  • Raashee Lannister
  • Aric Lannister
  • Ivan Lannister
  • Krea Lannister
  • Roarke Lannister
  • Rydell Lannister
  • Leolde Wyekham
  • Vika Wyekham


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  • Erin Stark
  • Lyssa Stark
  • Jason Stark
  • Barbara Stark
  • Cersei Stark
  • Robin Stark
  • Rick Stark
  • Jared Stark
  • Simon Snow


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RESERVED


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RESERVED


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  • Rylond Arryn
  • Gideon Arryn
  • Renold Arryn
  • Garrick Arryn
  • Addam Arryn
  • Gytha Arryn


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  • Rhaman Martell
  • Malak Martell
  • Astera Martell
  • Lyla Martell


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  • Avaria Tyrell
  • Erza Tyrell
  • Dimitre Caelum Tyrell
  • Kysa Tyrell
  • Lotus Flower



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Kingdoms
  • The Lannisters rule from their border down to the Dornish Kingdoms. Their Kingdom is collectively called the South.
  • The Starks rule the entire of Winterfell. Their land ends at the border of The Twins. Their Kingdom is collectively referred to as the North.
  • The Arryns rule from The Twins till the border of the South Kingdom. Their Kingdom is collectively known as the Narrow Sea.
  • The Aerys have no Kingdom, but inhabit Dragonstone and King's Landing.

Rules
  1. This is a High Casual to Advanced rp, meaning anyone who does not meet those requirements, will be subject to being rejected rp.
  2. You may reserve a House for up to three days before I open it up again.
  3. No godmodding.
  4. Game of Thrones is an adult book, but since this is in fact a public site, we will have keep the intensely adult things to a minimum. Implied adult content is allowed, but nothing explicit.
  5. You are only allowed one House (though I myself am breaking this rule :D )
  6. If you would rather play a member of a House, you have to ask me and then whoever is in control of the House. I would rather get Houses out of the way though, so its unlikely that allow that for too many people.
  7. If you have a big plot, or plot twist, in mind, consult me, and whoever else is involved in your idea.
  8. Game of Thrones is very much like a Nations rp. However, I expect their to more than just fighting. The series itself is very dramatic.
  9. You will be creating your House right up from the Lords to down to the Knights. You are required from one to an unlimited amount of main characters.
  10. There are probably other rules, but I've been working on this forever, and can't think up anything ATM. Umm...Rules may be subject to change.

All CS's should be under one application, titled with the House you are applying for.

Main Character CS

Name:
House:
Age:
Appearance:
Personality:
Biography:
RP Sample: (For just one of your characters, not all.)

NPC CS (Only list the name of characters you will feel you NPC frequently.)

NPCs:

Taken
The Starks: Ichigo15
The Lannisters: DuBois_Scarlett
The Martells: Tempest
The Arryns: Reaper27007
The Tyrells: Kami_no_Ko

Reserved List:
The Starks: Ichigo15
The Targaryens/Dothraki: Ichigo15
The Lannisters: DuBois_Scarlett
The Tyrells: Kami_no_Ko
The Martells: Tempest
The Arryns: Reaper2707
The Baratheons: Arik223

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The GM of this roleplay hasn't created any rules! You can do whatever you like!

The Story So Far... Write a Post » as written by 6 authors

Characters Present

Character Portrait: House Lannister Character Portrait: House Stark Character Portrait: House Martell Character Portrait: House of Arryn Character Portrait: House Tyrell Character Portrait: House Baratheon Character Portrait: House Bolton

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Barbara fingered the soft cotton edges of her dress, warily eyeing the Lannister bench box. It was diagonal from the the Stark's; each House had a personal box imbued in between the tournament benches, respective distances away from one another. The Stark's, Lannister's, and Arryn's had been placed diagonal from one another. If one were to draw straight lines from each of their boxes to the others, they would have found that the three Houses formed a triangle that split the oval structure of the tournament barricades. The benches themselves were an oval barrier to the dirt pit below, filled with knights, young and old, handsome and not so handsome. The Stark box was surrounded by a flurry of white banners, silver wolves running across the crowd in packs of soft silk, flapping leisurely in the wind, and giving Barbara what she thought to be nostalgia. Essos wasn't home. In fact, it was quite far from home. But the fresh, cool, morning, coupled with the crisp banners that cracked and whipped in the wind so easily was giving Barbara what she was sure was homesickness.

The stiff Houses surrounding her did little to ease her anxiety. Instead, she found herself with a morbid fascination for the Lannisters. Every so often, her eyes would wander to them, drawing lines in the contours of their faces, painting familiar pictures from these strangers' features. She would always catch herself and avert her gaze before one of them could acknowledge her stares. Especially before Raith Lannister could catch her with his charming, but somehow chilling, gaze. Cersei was less cordial. She'd been staring at them, unperturbed, for minutes now. It wasn't their good looks that had caught the girls' attention, though for the most part they agreed they were good looking. It was the familiarity of those handsome jawlines and pretty faces. For all Barbara's life, she'd thought of herself as a Stark, through and through. Even with her sister's name. They'd always been Starks. But here, confronted by blood, she knew now she was not just a Stark. Lannister blood flowed in her, as surely as Stark blood. It was different, knowing you had Lannister blood in you. Different from knowing you had Tully, or Baratheon blood. It was sinister, a cruel joke of nature.

Barbara stirred as Cersei tugged urgently on her sister's sleeve, "Look, look, look who it is." The red headed Stark turned her gaze down at the pit below; surly enough, there was Richard parading around on a sleek, fleet-footed mare, not his own. Oh, he was handsome. His black hair was an inky short sheen on his head, and his face was strong, handsome, and happy. Perpetually so, but he was a shining man for a knight. He wasn't participating though. That Barbara knew, and reveled in. She couldn't bare the thought of her favorite knight being hurt, even in just the smallest. Richard was a prodigy of his own, the youngest of the knights, but so skilled with just his bare hands you would have thought he was the captain. He was going to be her father's Ward.

Richard was down there 'preparing' Derek for the tournament. He was swinging Derek's silver and white lance around, poking his friend mockingly in the chest. Derek was handsome too, but not as beautiful as Richard. Even little Robin agreed Richard was a sight to see. Just then, Richard caught Barbara's eye, and flashed her the most beautiful smile she'd ever seen. She looked away, red faced. He'd took her innocence last year, and she'd breathed relief upon finding she hadn't been pregnant. But still, she kept with the man, meeting him often. He was a species of his own. Her sisters' knew, but no one else. And she knew her sisters would never tell.

She could see her father stiffen from her peripheral vision. He'd caught them peering at each other. Ian, her grandfather, and Lord of the House, saw as well. He laughed his grizzly, familiar, laugh and chided his son, "Come now Erin? Can't a man watch a beautiful woman?"

Lyssa Stark smiled a genuine but faint smile, but Erin grumbled and turned to talk with his brother.

"Get off of me you oaf!" Robin was squealing now, punching Jason's auburn hair with her small fists. He was holding her in a rib crushing hug. He was the best brother Barbara could have imagined the siblings to have. Caring, playful, loving...if there was anyone the House should have fallen to in times of peace, it should have been Jason. But Barbara had the prickling feeling that peace was not looming over Westeros's head. Instead, a man like her cousin, like Jared, seems an appropriate leader. There was a man that even Barbara shied away from when the time came.

"Quiet, now," Lyssa Stark scolded, and the noise from the Stark box silenced itself, all except for Rick who was wining about not being able to see over Cersei's golden head and loudly threatening to push his sister off the benches if she didn't move when the tournament started. The tournament itself was still being set up. Knights were prepping themselves, get excited over the approaching competition the way only men can. Barbara's parents were talking in hushed voices, of politics and family.

Barbara would have tuned in, but Robin started entertaining them with a description of each family, eloquently put into her words. She was a sly child, and refrained from pointing, speaking so that only her siblings could hear and know what she was talking about.

Now that Barbara was observing the other Houses, she wondered curiously what they thought of the Starks and their five rambunctious children. Six, if you counted Simon Snow, who was nowhere to be seen, and probably off with some whore in some dingy hitchhiker tent. She wondered which Houses were planning to marry their children to what other Houses. Were they like the Starks, who had fallen into a heated argument about giving the girls away? Erin stubbornly refused, but his father and his father's council were staunch opponents.

Barbara reclined in her seat, trying to avoid Richard's gaze, and cataloging each of the families briefly, all except the Lannisters who she avoided. House Arryn and its family of brothers. The Tyrells and their leading Lady. Martell, with its family of generations, much like the Starks'.

And she wondered curiously if the Starks had any friends among these people.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: House Lannister Character Portrait: House Stark Character Portrait: House Martell

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#, as written by Tempest
Malak and Astera Martell


Barbara Stark might have been surprised if she could read the mind of the man sitting only a few dozen feet away in a far less opulent box. Malak Martell was seated on a cushion of burnt orange, the golden tassels swinging slightly whenever he shifted his weight. He was half watching the armoured fools below as he cast his gaze between the Lannisters and the Starks. His father had given him a very specific mission for this visit. They had been seated in the Water Gardens, the sound of small brooks and rippling fountains filling their ears and bringing such peace as a man might find nowhere else.

"You must be the judge Malak." The older man had said. "Who are we to follow, if any at all. The Targaryens are not dead, that much is proven, their heirs still alive and very much in power if the rumours of their Dragons are true." Rhaman had reached out with a battle scarred hand and gently tapped his sons leg. "Dorne must be her own again, you will tell me how we can do that."

Malak was still amazed his father had sent him on this trip but he was no fool either. Astera was with him and the old man would listen to her advice before his own of that he was glad. He had never quite gotten his head wrapped around intrigue and politics but she had taken it in stride and almost made a game of it.

"You look pensive husband." Her soft voice came from his right and he shook himself from his thoughts and turned, smiling fondly at her.

"I am. I was just thinking over my fathers words to me before we left. It is not easy task that we have here." The two were speaking Dornish, a language rare enough outside of Dorne but they kept their voices lowered anyway.

"No, it is not, but what a task. Look at this tournament. It is not often we have such grand events at home." She laughed when she saw the look on his face at the words and kissed him lightly. "I mean no offense my love. Dorne is home but it is wonderful to see some of the world from time to time is it not?"

He nodded. He loved Dorne. The rolling hills, the endless desert, the towering peaks and all of it with the sea ever at their backs. It was a land of great mystery, unimaginable luxury and heart wrenching poverty. It was home.

"Perhaps when we return home we can visit the new Water Palace, it should be finished by then." She said soothingly, seeing his brow furrow. The Water Palace was the new country home of the Dornish royal family. A massive fortress palace of brilliant white walls that nestles amidst the Water Gardens. It was an impressive place and a sign of the wealth of Dorne thanks to the peace that had held them in thrall for so long.

"That would be wonderful." He said with a smile. At that moment he caught sight of Lyla down by the edge of the ring. She was with a young woman he did not recognize but her two bodyguards were clos nearby so he did not fear for her safety. She had been the main reason he had agreed to this journey, her interest in everything on Essos had been fed by her Great Uncle Akaris. She had begged him to allow her to join them for this trip and like all of her other requests, he had been unable to refuse.

She caught his eye and waved, husband and wife waved back with broad smiles. Let the other families see the Martells were true to one another.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: House Lannister Character Portrait: House Stark Character Portrait: House Martell Character Portrait: House of Arryn Character Portrait: House Tyrell Character Portrait: House Baratheon Character Portrait: House Bolton

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Two dark eyes studied the Starks from across the arena, cold and unfeeling to the playful behavior being exhibited by the arctic rats. The young Barbara of the Starks would have been a fine wench in Gideon’s eyes if she were not a damn Stark. Such a pity that a girl like her be cursed with such a pathetic heritage, not her fault of course but it made no difference to the man with iron skin and a leather soul. As Barbara began gazing at each family one by one, Gideon made sure to meet her curious gaze with his own glare that radiated his unconditional sense of superiority over her and her family.

As the looks passed, Gideon stroked his chin which had been covered in a light coating of rugged hairs from a lack of a close shave in recent time. His eyes drifted to Erin, yet another member of the Starks, one that Gideon especially didn’t care for. Atop of the fact that he was a Stark the man couldn’t even pretend to be friendly. Others had told him otherwise but to Gideon the man was just a pompous ass in general. “This is so unnecessary brother, why are we even here?” Gideon complained to Rylond, who sat next to him in a throne like chair that dwarfed the ones being sat in by his brothers and mother.

“You would have us risk out diplomatic opportunities just because you don’t even like being in the same region as a Stark?” Rylond asked with a grin “Wait, of course you would.”

“You’re damn right I would, talk is cheap but action is forever.” Gideon replied, moving the fur on his clothing aside. He had made the mistake of wearing his full Generals uniform to this function. It would not have been too terrible with only the cloth and armor, but the added warmth of the bear hide that slung over his shoulders was making it almost unbearable.

Renold sighed from the chair next to Gideon “Why are you always so eager to start a war brother?”

Gideon turned his gaze from the Starks to his younger brother. Renold was a striking young man; his hair was longer than Gideon’s but shorter than either Garrick’s or Rynold’s. One could argue that he was better looking of all the brothers, which made him a perfect subject for diplomatic relations. He could talk circles around most everyone and there would always be some girl looking to marry him. Problem was that Renold was the picky type, girl might want Renold but Renold would rarely want the girl.

“Because, Renold, diplomacy can go on for years with no positive idea of how it will end. Will the enemy see it your way? Will they decide they want more, will the conditions change and is the man you’re dealing with a stubborn mule or a bastard?” Gideon shook his head and looked down to the sandy pit below. The knights had filled it to the brim and members of carious houses were there to compete, Gideon had long contemplated taking part but his brother insisted he stay with the family. “Diplomacy can go on for years, never seeing an end or will simply end but with no real work being done. In war things are much simpler, you win or you die and no matter what things will have changed in the end.”

“You know what they say brother.” Renold began “War does not determine who is right or wrong, only who is left. In the end it solves nothing because there is no sure way to decide who was right in the matter, so the same problem would still haunt you.”
Gideon chuckled and looked towards the sky, the deep blue gentle and inviting just as the sun was warm and welcoming “Oh poor naïve Renold. In the end of war it doesn’t matter who was right in the beginning.” He again shifted his gaze to his brother “because in the end, whoever is left has become right and whoever would say otherwise is dead and the dead are silent.”

“If the man who was wrong wins there will always be somebody who sees that and steps up to take him on.” Renold repented to which Gideon threw up his hands

“Even if he was right there will be somebody who thinks he is wrong! The only way to ensure peace is to make sure anyone who disagrees with you is dead; it’s as simple as that. A smile can only get you so far brother, that’s why you do it with a bouquet of flowers in one hand and a dagger in the other.”

Rylond shook his head with amusement as he watched his brothers argue “Will you two never seize to argue over such things, for the Father’s sake you two look like the Stark whores fighting over who gets to give Raith a spin under the covers.”

Gideon grinned and pointed a finger at the oldest brother “Hey now, Lannister may be a cravenous whelp…but those sisters of his are quite fine.” The soldier smirked as he peaked around his brother to see the woman sitting in the Lannster box. He bit his lip and shook his head as he looked them all over. “That one, what’s her name…Rydell, I’d like to stay up all night with her.”

“You said the same thing about Vika.” Rylond pointed out

“Indeed, but that was before I found out she thinks she is a man. Talk, talk, talk that is all she is good for.” Gideon explained “Besides Rydell is a much more…fascinating specimen.” A crooked smile “You can’t say that you don’t agree either.”

Rylond smirked and turned his attention to the blonde goddess across the way, the sun was beating off her skin and extenuating her beauty “Oh no, I can’t. Regardless I’m much to busy for a wife right now.”

“I don’t think Vika is all that bad.” The youngest brother, Addam, spoke up. He was next to Garrick, who in turn sat next to Rylond on his right side. His comment was a little late, but it was not unwelcome by Rylond who did not wish to get into another argument with Gideon about how he needed to sleep with a wench every now again.

“So, you are telling us that you would prefer a woman who does nothing but spit her opinion out left and right like she actually knew what the hell a man’s business was about?” Gideon questioned, leaning back over his chair to see his youngest brother.

“Well, I mean it can’t be all that bad to have a woman’s opinion.” Addam replied

“If they knew their ass from a sword maybe.” Gideon mused

“Well, Gideon, Addam might be on to something. After all, father did listen to mother’s opinions. Perhaps a marriage to such an outspoken maid would not be so bad.” Rylond said

“Maybe not for Garrick.” Gideon laughed, leaning forward to see his brother. The middle child had not commented the whole conversation and, in fact, seemed to be ignoring his family altogether while he sat zoning in on the knights below. “He could use a woman like that to pull the stick from his ass.”

Gideon chuckled at his own partial joke; still Garrick looked on to the knights as if hi family were not even beside him. It always worried his brothers when he got like this, his eyes grew dim and he would sit as still as a stone statue, completely absorbed into a world that only he could see. “Did he you hear me Garrick?” Gideon asked, still laughing. Garrick glared at his brother from the corner of his eye and mouthed the word ha multiple times in a mock laugh.

Rylond smiled worriedly at his brother and gave him a friendly punch in the arm “Nonsense, our brother will marry a fine woman, one worthy of the name Arryn.” Still Garrick seemed to ignore his surroundings and starred off into the distance.

“Well, he won’t be marrying a Lannister if I have anything to say about it.” Gytha, the mother of the brothers, said rather loudly from her seat in front of her sons “I will not have some undignified Lannister whore running around calling herself an Arryn. I mean how is it tha-”

“Mother, we have talked about this.” Rylond cut her off “The Lannisters are our best chance of getting rid of the Starks. Their women are just as fine as anyone else’s”

Gytha just snorted at the comment and returned to watching the knights below. Gideon would not be so easy to let the subject go, however “We don’t need those ‘brave lions’. With the new tactics and training I’m giving our army we could easily role over both the Starks and the Lannisters. We might not have the biggest army but damnit we are going to have the most disciplined.”

“I don’t see why we need to kill anyone.” Renold commented “There isn’t a need for war, not now”

“I agree Renold, but war is coming. The Tully’s are getting more and more rebellious by the day, it will not be long before they take advantage of their Stark allies and try to take our land. The only way we can assure our safety is wiping the Starks out. There is a time and place for war brother, which is something you must learn.”

Renold just sighed and turned away unpleased as Gideon began his argument again “Brother, we do not need the Lannisters to defeat the Starks. We should simply march into their lands and wipe them out. Once they are all dead we can begin conscripting their peasants and create an army strong enough to overthrow the Lannisters. The Tully will fall in line once they see out strength.”

“And what if we are devastated instead? What is to stop the other families or the Lannisters from crushing us while we are weak? Gideon, this is not the time or place for this discussion, we will talk about this later.” Rylond snapped. His brother was a good man and a great general who was on his way to creating tactics that would revolutionize warfare, but he could be a fool sometimes.

The family was quiet for a while after that, keeping to their own business. Gideon was still starring down the other families, looking over the woman and then moving on. It was during this cataloging of woman that Garrick suddenly stood from his seat. Without a word he began moving to the exit of the box. No one spoke up at first; no one seemed to care…

Rylond, however, asked “Garrick, where are you going? Don’t you want to see the games?”

Garrick didn’t look back at his brother, he just stopped a few feet short of the exit “I’m going out, I’ll return when I’m finished.” He answered without a single glance and exited the box. Addam quickly stood when he saw his favorite brother leave in his usual foul mood

“No.” Rylond said, catching his brothers arm “Leave him alone for now; he will be back when he wants to speak with us.” Addam gave his oldest brother a crooked look, and then reluctantly sat back down, his head still turned towards the exit.

It was not unusual that Garrick act so distant, but since they arrive here it had increased significantly. Sometimes it was just impossible to know what was going on inside that man’s head.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: House Lannister Character Portrait: House Stark Character Portrait: House Martell Character Portrait: House of Arryn Character Portrait: House Tyrell Character Portrait: House Baratheon Character Portrait: House Bolton

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A cool crisp morning breeze stirred the frilled edges of the damask covering of the Lannister's box but did little to reduce the intensity of the Essos sun.

“You there!” Commanded Raith Lannister lounging in his overly comfortable throne. “Fan my sister.”

He watched Raashee's pinched expression with a deceptively lazy gaze as the servant that cooled him moved over to fan his sister. He could read the worry all over his baby sisters face. It marred her pretty features into an unmoving frown. A worry Raith could decipher all too well . . . A worry for their father who lay unconscious and dying back in Westros.

But life did not stop for the rest of them. Raashee could never understand this. Too sweet. Too naïve. Too young. It mattered little. She was to do as she was told. Her opinion was unneeded and unwanted.

Raith turned to peer out onto the sand pit below. Pages and servants were helping the Knights readying. The jousting was near to beginning. Raith would be participating in it himself a little later on; for the Lion could not resist a challenge.

His cool but casual gaze swept around the boxes that surrounded the playing field. The slightest of nods acknowledge those who caught his sharp eye. It had been little more then surprising when his invitation to meet on Essos was accepted by all the noble Houses of Westros. But the young Lion was not fool enough to believe for a second that any man or woman here came with peace in their hearts.

In fact, his own was the least peaceful of all.

War was on the horizon. A good old blood bath. It was necessary. Raith Lannister, unlike his father was not averse to war. In fact he thought it was much needed. A fine bloody battle, in his opinion, tended to weed out the weak. Leaving the strong to regroup and rethink their strategies. But there would be no blood shed . . . for now . . . At least not until his father still breathed.

Raith leaned back further in his seat. His white linen shirt open at the neck; adorned solely by a larger fashionable necklace draped around his broad shoulders. His lips twitched, breaking out into a small but infectiously charming smile for the Stark girl that starred with open daggers across at the whole Lannister clan.

Raith bowed dramatically in his seat with a flourish of his arm for the gorgeous blonde Stark princess. The girls scowl seemed to deepen in response.

“Cersei Stark.” Explained Keeleb Storm from behind Raith's chair as his hand came to rest on Raith's shoulder.

“I think she likes me.” Raith grinned holding Cersei Starks gaze.

Keeleb laughed heartily walking away to join Ser Ivan Lannister who conversed with the newly arrived Lord Wyekham and his Lady wife Victorry. Much to Keeleb's pleasure Aric Lannister seemed not to be present for the time being.

About the Starks. It was not a matter Raith took lightly. To join with them or to watch them perish?

Either option left little qualm with Raith but which was more beneficial . . . to the Lannisters? He supposed he had all of this vacation to find out whether joining with the Starks was a viable option. He had a lot of wrongs left by his father to set to rights. Ulyss Lannister had been too easy, too compromising with the other noble families. It had given them airs that did not belong to them.

Like the Tyrells.

Yes, the Tyrells are allied with the Lannisters . . . but of late? . . . Well suffice it to say Raith found their fealty to the Lannisters lacking greatly.

But the Starks and Tyrells were the least of his worries. There was another reason Raith had planned this excursion all the way across the Narrow Sea . . .

The machiavellian direction of Raith's thoughts broke suddenly as a flurry of light blue patterned silk whispered by in front of him. Reaching out quickly; he grasped the delicate wrist in his tight hold before she could slip away like water between his fingers.

Fierce aquamarine eyes whipped around to stare down at him. Raith held that enthralling gaze.

“Fair cuz . . .” Raith drawled as he pulled her closer towards him by his hold on her. A genuine smile as glorious as the Essos sun spread across his lips as he brought the flat of her palm to his lips and placed a gentle kiss to the soft skin.

“I'm mad at you.” Rydell replied petulantly, seemingly unaffected by the affectionate gesture but he could feel her pulse begin to raise under his fingers.

It was a rarity in and of itself that Rydell was ever angry with him. However, all the Lannister women had plagued him since he had announced they were to journey across the sea. None of them were pleased to have to be living like heathens in this Gods forsaken desert as his Aunt Krea had so elegantly described it.

“I know.” Raith answered apologetically as he placed another tender kiss in the sensitive hollow of the underside of her wrist.

He felt her suck in a shaky breath.

“I intend to stay mad at you.” She managed to compose herself to explain.

“I know that too.” Raith replied solemnly; a sensual smile plastered to his face as he suddenly pulled her down to sit in the seat to his left. “However, I would appreciate it if you could be mad at me while sitting next to me.”

Strong fingers slipped through to twine with Rydell's slender delicate ones; identical eyes locked as she tried to fight her smile.

Cersei Starks beauty was undeniable but Rydell . . . Rydells was unsurpassed. Raith had not been unaware of the all the eyes that had followed her since she had arrived in their box. The desire that burnt through men's heart at but just a glimpse of her beauty. Or the envious stares of the women. But it deflected off the invisible shield Rydell held up. She was unaffected by their desires or their hate. She cared not.

Unfortunately, Raith could not say he was unaffected by the attention Rydell garnered, himself. His fingers tightened around hers. He knew the folly of his feelings . . . But the thought of his Rydell belonging to another . . . Raith pushed the emotions he knew he had no right feeling away. It matter not for now.

It was at his side that she sat right now.

“It's starting!”

A delighted squeal pulled Raith and Rydell from the cocoon they had built around themselves as a small form wrapped in fine blue silk jumped onto Raith's lap happily.

“I believe it is, little cousin.” Raith replied happily as he kissed the head of long golden curls. “Ah, there see, there is our Lion.”

The first joust was between the Lannister's and the Greyjoys. The Greyjoy Knight was mounted on his steed at the far end while the Lannister's own was closer. His face could not be discerned from under his Lion head helmet. But there was no doubt nobody could look as fine in armour as a Lannister.

Both men were at the ready with their heavy lances and shields at the ready. A sudden silence fell over the entire crowd but the roar that followed as the two Knights took off was deafening.

Raith watched with sweet anticipation as the riders drew closer. There was a horrendous crash drowning out the hoof beats as lances clashed with wood and steal . . . And one man was dismounted and fell to the ground ungracefully.

A collective gasp filled the Arena. Raith's heart clenched as for a few pain staking moments he watched the man on the ground.

He did not move.

The blood pounded in Raith's ears stopping other noise from penetrating his conscious. No! Pushing Ryley into Rydell's arm Raith leaped over the high front wall of the box into the pit below; racing across the hot Essos sand to land on his knees next to the Knight.

A crimson trail stained the golden grains.

No! He couldn't lose another brother!

Raith yanked the helm off the knights head; grasping the man's head in his hands.

“Roarke! Roarke! Get up!” Raith demanded in his frenzy.

“By the Gods . . .” Roarke Lannister stirred opening his heather grey eyes as he frowned in discomfort. “Would you stop shaking me!”

Raith let out the breath he hadn't even realized he had been holding as his cousin sat up; thanking the Gods. He had lost enough real brothers, he did not think he could bare to lose another.

Ripping the armour plate that covered Roarke's shoulder, Raith examined the wound that bled.

“Tis but a scratch.” Roarke complained at Raith's ministrations who was not convinced; pulling his arm out of his cousins grasp; reattaching his armour. “You are ruining my hard work!”

“What the devil are you talking about?” Raith demanded. “You almost died.”

It was obvious the the lance had pierced the skin at the edge of the shoulder because the shield had been lowered significantly at the most inopportune moment. It wasn't like Roarke to make such a deadly mistake.

He was the best Knight, if there ever was one.

“Hardly.” Roarke grinned. The smile almost identical to Raith's but for the genuine warmth it exuded. “I was just . . . momentarily distracted.” The grin widened on the handsome face that almost glowed gold in the Essos sun's light.

Raith stared on for a moment before he laughed harshly and then laughed some more. The small crowd of men that had formed around them slowly dispersed at the sight.

“If you are frightened of losing to me later cuz,” Raith jested. “be a man about it and just admit it. Don't blame your failure on the pretty face of a ghost in the crowd.”

“Me? Frightened of losing to you!?” Roarke rebuffed as if just the thought was ridiculous. “I've got two more rounds with the Greyjoy yet. Don't count me out just yet, cuz.”

“So be it. Prepare yourself to lose cuz.” Raith grinned as he clasped Roarkes head in his hand again, placing a manly buss to the Knights cheek. “Play on!” Raith announced to the crowd as he stood and strode towards the Lannister box not caring he was covered in sand and blood. “He'll live.”

Unsurprisingly, the next two wins went to Roarke Lannister as his Lance split at the right moment forcing the Greyjoy to dismount. Twice. Claiming the Lannister Knight the victor of the first round.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: House Lannister Character Portrait: House Stark Character Portrait: House Martell Character Portrait: House of Arryn Character Portrait: House Tyrell Character Portrait: House Baratheon Character Portrait: House Bolton

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Lotus Flowers, Deimitre Tyrell,

Her slender, yet toned arms, wrapped themselves around the waist of the excited young Lordling. His red hair which had taken Lotus hours to comb back from his forehead was now flopping around as he wriggled around. It was his first tournament and Lotus was amused as Dimitre grinned widely and his dark green eyes were round. Lotus was dressed in a simple but exquisite dark emerald gown with a thin, yet concealing netted veil over her pale, angular face. Lady Avaria insisted that Lotus be there to watch her son and keep him well-mannered.

She didn't mind, even though she had to disguise herself as servant. It had been years since Lotus had been to a tournament. Her father had taken her occasionally, proudly showing off the young girl with the exotic features. The thrill in the air couldn't help but lift her spirits. A few blue-black strands of feather-soft hair were escaping out of her bun as she looked around eagerly, taking in the new sights. She recognized a few.

"Lotus!" Dimitre pointed at some horses and a wistful expression came onto his round face. "They're so pretty. I want to ride them!" He loved the animals and at the Reach, knights were honored and praised. They rode all around the streets on the finest of horses. It was probably the reason why young Dimitre wanted to be a knight.

"One day, darling." Lotus replied sweetly and the boy's face lit up immediately. He had absolute faith in his caretaker and half-sister. She was the world to him. "You'll be starting you're training soon and once you grow a bit taller, you're mother get you any horse you desire." As Dimitre fantasized about the idea, the petit young woman caught sight of Kysa interacting with some gorgeous blonde women. It was only natural, him being Lord of Hightower. He had as much money as the Lannisters. It made her wistful and though no one could see it, full pink lips smiled under the veil as the much popular Lord blushed heavily at whatever the women tittered about.
He seemed uncomfortable an Lotus felt a twinge of sympathy for her friend, though her envy of him was much greater. It would be most wonderful if people would fawn over her like that with admiration and respect.

"Enjoying ourselves?" A deep, gravelly voice broke her focus on the young Lord and came face to face with Ezra Tyrell. He was a great knight and a dear cousin. His dark brown hair was messy as usual but there was a wicked glint in his dark eyes that suggested good humor. She curtseyed as well as she could while holding onto the red headed little boy. Dimitre grinned at his cousin.

"Are you going to be riding Ezra?" Demitre asked curiously. He held Lotus's hand tightly.

"Not today, I'm afraid. Aunt Avaria, wishes for me to do some..." His voice wrinkled in distaste. "Courting." A snort made its way out of her nose to her horror as she tried to keep in the giggle from escaping her mouth. Lotus ducked her head but the older man merely laughed loudly. "How can a man like myself be tied to only one? The idea itself is preposterous!"

"Do I have to court too?" Demitre piped up. Lo and Ezra chuckled quietly and patted his hair.

"Look at the fellow!" Ezra nodded with a smirk at Kysa Tyrell. A woman had put a hand on his arm and the young lord's face was red as an over ripe tomato. It was adorable. Lotus couldn't help but feel put out. "Lannister women are one of the finest women around. He'd do well to pick from there. Though, I prefer the Martell women myself."

She curtseyed again as Ezra Tyrell left, and turned to look back at Lord Hightower. For as long as she could remember, Kysa had always been kind and so sweet to her. He held a special place in Lo's heart and it darkened her mood to see women so much prettier than her catch his attention. Her hand was squeezed and Lotus took a seat with Dimitre at her side who leaned forward eagerly. It was Lannister versus Greyjoy and everyone's enthusiasm was contagious. She watched intently with interest.
The Lannister in particular looked fine as he sat atop of his great steed. Except-

Greyjoy let out a triumphant shout which no one seemed to overhear over the series of gasps that had swept the arena as the supposedly "best" knight was knocked off his horse. A handsome man older than herself, leapt out of his box and into the arena, yanking off the helmet of the fallen knight.

The face of fallen knight took Lotus's breath away. He may have been on the ground, face shining with sweat, eyes blinking groggily, but it was the most perfect face she had ever seen. If only a man like that could take her away from the strict hold of Avaria Tyrell. It made her heart ache for what she could never have. Not only was he totally out of her reach, seeing how Lotus was a bastard child, he was a Lannister. He was probably used to the most gorgeous women waiting on him hand and foot.

Her heart pounding, Lotus watched with awe as he unseated Greyjoy twice, winning the first round. Hopefully, when Lady Avaria picked the man for her to wed, Lotus only wished he could be half as lovely as Roarke Lannister.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: House Lannister Character Portrait: House Stark Character Portrait: House Martell Character Portrait: House of Arryn Character Portrait: House Tyrell Character Portrait: House Baratheon Character Portrait: House Bolton

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#, as written by Arik223
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Aeon carefully examined every leader of every household, and in the process forcing smiles that sometimes seemed forced. Especially the ones towards the Lannisters. He had to act the way he did, he needed to instill a sense of trust to his enemies. He looked over at the stark's and rememberd of his father's words, "The Starks are good allies to want, but very bad enemies to have." Aeon didn't trust them. This didn't go down to hatred, Aeon sort of liked some of the Stark's, but trusting them was a whole other matter.

His thoughts were interrupted by Elean, "Brother..." Aeon looked at her "I would like to participate in an archery tourney... If of course they have one. I am better than our Archers, and surely better than any other houses." His first instincts compelled Aeon to say no, but he had a spark of realization. If Elean participated, she would surely catch the eye of a lord from one of the houses. Her beauty would just be an addition to her skill. Aeon gave her a smile "You have my permission. Don't miss though." He had a goal to accomplish, he needed the allies. Aeon had to show his family's power, which is why he put Logan in one of the tourney's, and Elean would be a good addition.

Elean was relieved at her brother's decision, she could show some of these men that a Baratheon Lady is just as good if not superior to them. Elean knew that Aeon had his plans, he would never show up if he didn't have anything figured out. "What do you intend to do?" she asked quietly. "All in due time Elean. I have heard rumors, but if they are correct then that mean's the Baratheon's have a lot to account for when it comes to a certain house which has kept far from the fighting." He smiled at his sister, "The Lions wont know what hit them. Besides there are other houses that I will attempt to further relations. And hey if politics doesn't work... there's always a more 'direct' approach." Elean smiled at her brother, she just hoped to god he wouldn't go ahead of himself.

Sylvia was all over the place, her gaze turning from one box to another. Handsome lords and ladies caught her attention, and she gave the one's she liked shy smiles. She knew that one day she might be married to one of them, not that it was a bad thing of course, if she could avoid blood-shed she would. The Lannisters were out of the question. Sylvia could not stop looking at Renold Arryn, she did her best to not let him see her staring.

Aeon watched the lancer's go against each other, and to his surprise the first to fall was a Lannister. What surprised him though was his brother's foolish behavior. Aeon kept himself from laughing at the idiocy of the Lannisters, he held it in, this was not the time. Logan should be up any moment, and with all the training he was put through, he better win.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: House Lannister Character Portrait: House Stark Character Portrait: House Martell Character Portrait: House of Arryn Character Portrait: House Tyrell Character Portrait: House Baratheon Character Portrait: House Bolton

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“Oh! My Lord!” The wench shrieked and then giggled.

“Please, I think you've earned the right to call me Roarke, Lydia.” He replied sounding quite pleased with himself as the blonde serving maid collapsed on top of him and they both tried to catch their breath.

“I'm not Lydia!” She complained

“I'm Lydia.” Came the coy voice of the red haired wench crawling up from his feet to rest on his other side; stirring the straw and hay below them all.

He wasn't good with names; they came and went as fast as the women.

“Yes and I'm Hailena.” Added the one he had mistaken for Lydia at first. “And she's Letticia.”

Roarke lifted his head to peer down at the third wench still at his feet. She looked up at him demurely. Huffing out a laugh, he sat up much to the protest of the three ladies. Dear Gods! His depravities only seemed to get worse the older he got. But he couldn't help himself, he thought with a smirk.

“Ladies,” Roarke sighed dubiously, lacing up his doublet. “I fear I must love you and leave you.”

“But we haven't even gotten around to healing your wound yet.” Complained the red head holding on tighter to Roarke's arm while the other two women agreed.

Shrugging out of her grip, Roarke got to his feet. The wound was hardly worth mentioning. He barely even noticed it now. He had suffered much worse before. But damn his folly! He had been distracted by a pretty face in the crowd. Raith had called her a ghost. Maybe she had been and he was finally losing his wits. But he was certain. Either a Tyrell or a Baratheon.

“My Lord!” Whinned Letticia at his feet, making no effort to cover up her nakedness.

“Ah but you've healed and soothed my most throbbing wound greatly.” He smirked down at them as he buttoned up his breeches.

A harem of giggles erupted and Roarke began to back away out of the makeshift barn before they could grab him again.

“Wait! When will we see you again?”

“Soon.” He replied roguishly blowing a kiss as he stepped out and breathed a sigh of relief.

Those succubuses intended to drain him dry! Who had seduced who? Roarke pondered as he made his way around the back to the Lannister's box. He certainly felt like the victim after they had finished with him. But he was sure it hadn't started out that way. The Seducer had become the seduced, he realised as he jumped up the steps to the Lannister's bench box.

“Roarke!”

The impact of the body almost knocked the Knight off his feet.

“Are you all right?! Where were you?!” An urgent voice demanded.

However, not everyone was greatly concerned. His father simply nodded in acknowledgement of his sons presence. Krea smirked. How he hated that woman. And Wyekham simply patted him on the back, commenting he had done well.

“Roarke! Where were you? Are you okay?” Roarke looked down into the pretty face full of concern.

“Ah, no. I'm in great pain.” His face contorted into a fictitious grimace as he raised one shaking arm with a hand to her face. “My-my arm, it's about to fall off!” And burst out into laughter at her horrified complexion.

“You're a beast!” Raashee slapped his hand away as she realized the truth. “Where were you? The joust finished long ago. We were all so worried.”

Raorke looked around the box filled to the brim with people. He doubted if even half of them even noticed that he had not returned right away . . . or cared. Except Raashee.

“I'm quite fine Raash.” He smiled as he rested his arm around her waist and they moved to the corner of the box away from the others. “I was just having my wound tended to.” He winked roguishly as he half sat on the barrier and looked out onto the sun heated pit below; across to the other boxes.

“I wished you'd be more careful.”

“It's a joust.” He smiled back at her. “How careful do you think I can be?”

“You can't fool me. It was a stupid risk. As always.

She knew his tricks all too well.

“I can't help it if women wish to comment on my bravery and want to help tend my wounds after a great battle.” He jested nonplussed.

“Foolish.” Raashee shook he head. “As if they wouldn't be swarming you either way.”

Roarke simply shrugged still grinning.

“Raashee.”

“Ah the witch calls.” Roarke commented as Krea called her away.

“I wish you wouldn't call her that.” Raashee chided with a smile before she walked away.

Roarke sighed. The Lannister bench box was a large room draped in finery from walls to floors and a large table at the far end was over flowing with food, wine and fresh exotic fruit. Yet the room still felt constricting to the Lannister Knight. He was used to the open air and being constantly on the move. This being stuck in one place was too depressing, Roarke thought to himself.

He was just about to make a move to leave when he saw his sister sitting on the throne that Raith had sat in. All by herself. The blue silk of her gown and the golden blonde curls that framed her face flowed in the breeze as she peered out across the playing field.

His brows drew together. He had not missed that scene between Raith and Rydell as he sat on horse back waiting for the joust to begin. Roarke did not like it. Not one bit. It wasn't right. Rydell did not see that what she desired could not be. Raith would eventually come to that conclusion but Roarke knew his sister would never accept it. He would have to do something . . . Soon.

“Sister.” Roarke greeted as he came to a stop before her. “Come, walk with me.”

“I don't feel like walking and burning under this unbearable sun.” She replied.

“It wasn't a request.”

Their eyes locked in a silent battle for a long moment.

Roarke would not relent.

Argh! Fine!” Rydell spat throwing her hands up in defeat as Roarke smirked.

“I knew you'd see things my way sis.” He commented as he slipped her arm through his and led her out of the box.

“Where are we going anyway?” She questioned haughtily.

“To see a friend of mine.” Roarke answered simply.

“That's funny. I didn't think you had any friends.” Rydell commented; satire lacing her voice.

“I have more friends then you sis. I assure you. Ah, here we are.” Roarke quickly led his sister up the stairs before she could reply to the truthful remark.

But he couldn't resist a grin at the fear striking scowl she bestowed upon him as he knocked on the door, opened and entered before he was bid.

“Renold!” He greeted jollily as the man approached him. “It has been too long friend.” Roarke smiled as he shook Renold Arryns hand. “May I present my sister, Rydell Lannister.”

Rydell did not appear in the least bit impressed as she gave the slightest nod of her head in greeting. Not even bothering to smile let alone curtsy as a well bred young Lady should.

She took haughtiness to a new level thought Roarke displeased at his sisters manners as he turned his attention back to Renold Arryn.

A good man, Renold.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: House Lannister Character Portrait: House Stark Character Portrait: House Martell Character Portrait: House of Arryn Character Portrait: The Targaryens (and Dothraki) Character Portrait: House Tyrell Character Portrait: House Baratheon Character Portrait: House Bolton

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Erin shifted in his seat as he watched the Lannister boy be dismounted by a Greyjoy, a man of his own kingdom. Beside him Lyssa fidgeted uncomfortably as if she were the one preparing to joust next and Erin wrapped his long fingers around her elegant, but aging, hand. In the pits below, Erin could see Derek, and Erin’s nephew, Jared, preparing themselves for their oncoming challenges. Derek was a surly boy, Erin thought; young and strong and confident. And Richard liked him, and Erin favored Richard most of all out of his father’s young knights. It was a shame Richard had declined to joust today; Erin had the slightest inclination to believe that his daughter had, had something to do with that.

Derek would be hit from his horse the first round. Erin could predict that. The boy was never nearly as careful as he should be. Always boasting and posing for ladies.

Jared, on the other hand.

Jared was a different man. A man that Erin would have been proud to call his son, if he were. Jared represented a Stark the way the Starks were perceived. Silent and prowling and serious. A handsome young boy at that, but someone with ambition, very unlike Erin’s own son, Jason. Erin couldn’t help but wonder how a cheery man such as his brother had brought forth such a proper child.

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The tournament went forward as planned. Derek went up against a man of one of the lesser houses and was dismounted, as Erin had predicted. After him, Jason rode out on his bay mare. The horse nickered underneath him, nodding her head and tugging at the reigns defiantly.

Jared wondered if it was the environment she was unused too. He’d never jousted with this horse before. She was young and hotblooded and her one of her feet dug nervously into the ground. He hefted his silver and white lance up, hearing the Stark crowd begin to cheer and howl, like animals, wolves, before Jared had even gone off.

It was unbecoming of them, he thought, but also much appreciated. In this crowd of strangers, the verbal support felt good somehow.

Jared was going up against the Tully. The same one that had knocked Derek off his horse. Jared held his lance tightly, imaging how white his knuckles must have been under the armor. It was his first time jousting against any house not under his grandfather’s rule. And those lesser Houses, really, were never usually much of a challenge. Not enough resources, or not enough men, or not enough strong sons. It was no surprise his grandfather rarely held tournaments. It was a bore watching the Starks and Greyjoys go up against just one another over and over again.

Jared dug his heels into the horse’s side and she lurched forward. In the next second, the tip of his lance collided with the Tully’s chest plate, sending the man flying off of his black stallion. Jared smiled triumphant, and reigned his mare back to his end of the tilt. Derek was waiting there to greet him. He smiled a crooked smile, clasping Jared’s hand when they met, and patting the mare on her shoulder.

“Flighty thing,” he murmured.

“I know,” Jared said, smiling faintly, and rubbing the horse’s neck.

He pried his helm off, handing it off to Derek as he ran a hand through his curly hair. Sweat was beading his forehead, though the match itself had only taken mere minutes. He looked into the crowd. Jason was giving him a thumbs up and Cersei and Robin were smiling, waving throwing him looks to mock the way ladies looked at him. He smirked. Rick was looking awed but disgruntled. As the youngest, his dreams were to come up to par with everyone else. So far, being as small as he was, he hadn’t had much luck. Barbara was busy talking to Richard who had situated himself between her and Cersei.

Jared knew already that Ian, his grandfather, would be upset with that seating arrangement. Ian’s intention was to marry his granddaughters’ off. Well, minus Robin. Erin, however ‘upset’ he may have pretended to act, was actually quite pleased with Richard’s interest in Barbara. He was stiffly against giving his daughters away to strangers.

Jared let his eyes sweep through the crowd before they landed on a woman close to the ring’s edge. Now, there was a pretty face if he’d seen one.

“Lyla Martell,” Derek chimed.

“I know who she is,” Jared muttered through smiling lips.

“Lots’a pretty girls here,” Derek said, smiling mischievously.

“Lots of pretty girls to try.” Jared replied, now giving one of his rare full blown smiles. The entire time, his eyes never left the girls face, not until he pulled his helm over his head again, and rounded his horse for the next round.

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Erin smiled, reclining in his seat, as he watched Jared dismount the Tully. His eyes roamed over the crowds, and he did not miss when the Lannister man presented the young girl to the Arryns. He was too far away to hear what they were saying, but it discomforted him, knowing even now, in the midst of this tournament, allies were already attempting formation.

Stark Wolves


Black ears swirled forward as Needle sniffed the hot Essos air for prey. Somehow, the air smelt charred, and a metallic taste permeated her tongue. An alien scent she’d never encountered in her life before this. The lions had been disconcerting enough, but Needle had decided they were food to be eaten as well, if they so dared to challenge herself and her pack. But this smell, foreign to her, was more disconcerting than the lions musk-and-meat scent. The faint thumping that came from the sky was new too.

She looked back from the direction she had come. The camp was a small dot in her vision now, but by its dot, she knew it was there. Her brothers and sisters were as skittish as she was with this new scent. Several times over, Sterling would bound backwards, as if wanting to go back, but Needle was not afraid. She bounded forwards, only looking back to see that her master’s nest was behind her. Red, who was often mistaken for a small bear, followed along with her. They had little cousins here; small colorful dogs that teased the direwolves, both frightened and curious of these newcomers to this land. Those small cousins weren't here now though. The lions, too, had left. Something had scared them away.

After a while, the thumping-of-the-sky was joined with the beat of horses’ hooves. Needle did not like to show it, but now she felt unsure. So many horses’ hooves, almost as many as the ones at camp. She sat where she stood, her littermates crowding around, all except for inquisitive Winter. She stayed standing, her white pelt blinding in the already bright sunlight. Her ears perked, and Needle felt annoyed watching the she-wolf stand above them, looming like an alpha.

She snapped at her sister, but a stinging nip on the ear quickly had her low to the ground. Needle would have liked to think she was the dominant one in the pack, but really it was only Sterling, with his young master, that was lesser than her. The other wolves had stronger, older, masters than her Robin. And somehow, that effected the way they worked as a unit.

The wolves waited, until they saw it. An immense troop of bareback men and scantily clad women, most on horseback. So many horses, as much as Needle had seen with this gathering of two-legs back at the large-nest. Except that this was one large pack. Not many packs fighting the way the two-legs of her homelands were fighting. Fighting for dominance over one vast territory.

Needle looked up, and whimpered and urinated. Above the man-and-horse-pack, two humongous creatures loomed, green-and-blue, and white-and-purple. If ever there was a time when direwolves had fought dragons, it had been years past, when there were more direwolves, and they grew even bigger. But now, dragons were a foreign thing to them.

The wolves turned tail as fast as they could, running for the camp. They would hide in the camp; they would hide their masters too. Dangerous things were coming.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: House Lannister Character Portrait: House Stark Character Portrait: House of Arryn

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Harsh and brilliant were the rays of the sun that beat down on the forehead of Garrick as he walked through the city streets. Over his body he wore magnificent purple silk cloths that were as smooth to the touch as water and over his shoulders a black robe to cover his fine wears. The city that Garrick had ridden too may have been civilized but it was not a safe place to be showing off your expensive items unless you were making a death wish.

His brother’s didn’t know it, but Garrick had plans in motion since the day he discovered they would be traveling to Essos. He never intended to sit around and watch meaningless games of joust and archery take place for that would be a sinful waste of such a grand opportunity. There was something here for the young man that could be of such importance to his mission that he could not simply pass it up.

He continued down the dirt street of the city, passing various vendors and marketers trying to shove their unwanted goods on passer-bys. One thing was for sure about Essos, it was a much different place than anything you could find in Westros. The sun shinned more and the general life style of the people was fascinating. Well, not to one such as Garrick who cared little for even his own culture. After all, his own culture had done nothing but curse his life since the day he was born. Unless it had enough value to be of gain to Garrick, he had no reason to even acknowledge it.

The son of a man who would leave him now throne continued down the street to a small temple, one draped in red banners of the local faith, R’hllor. Garrick had long dreamed of coming to Essos to meet one of these so called Red Priests, ones who could teach him the ways of the higher mysteries. But he was no fool, through what little whispers and tales he had heard about the R’hllor followers; he knew that many of them in this time believed that all other religions worshipped demons that must be destroyed. It was not as if Garrick believed in the religions of Westros anyway, but he would need to pretend to believe in this ‘righteous cause’ so that he could find his way into the clergy. This was going to be a huge risk, especially considering that the current group he was on his way to visit were notoriously one of the most extreme sects of the religion.

As Garrick approached the two hollow slabs of doors the temple held, he threw them open as if an emperor into the capital of his new kingdom. His darkly cloaked figure cast a long shadow across the cold stone floors of the temple, only dimly lit by a series of flames springing from large torched sitting eerily along the corridor. Garrick studied his surroundings, the orange glow flickering off of his skin as his dark eyes analyzed ever crack in the stone and every dark corner. It would seem he was alone, but as the door creaked closed behind him, blocking any hopes of reaching safety if hell itself were to charge after him. A silly thought if one were not in such a dark, mysterious and groggy place.

Garrick could not see another living soul as he stood in the midst of a shadowy lobby, but he could feel the eyes of hundred evil things glaring into his soul. Unfeeling, inhuman, cold and waiting in the thick shadows of the temple and they were so wicked that the maddest of men could not help but shiver.

Cautiously, Garrick took a step forward and the floor made a tremendous creak and a sweet dark voice followed in its wake “Why so frightened…outlander?” not even thirty seconds through the door and he had been branded as a foreigner.

“Who are you calling scared, you are the one hiding like a coward?” Garrick hissed into the darkness

“Oh, a touchy one I see.” The sweet voice chimed back and, from the dark void, a slowing red dress appeared. It was long and brilliant with depictions of flames that rose from the bottom of the dress up the back and then broke off into several directions throughout the flowing dress. Wearing the viciously elegant dress was a woman with milky brown skin that was soft to just look at and deep brown, warming, eyes. Black hair swirled down her body to the bottom of her breasts and hung over her right eye and corner of her soft lips. She appeared to be very young, no older than maybe nineteen, but her eyes housed a soul decades older. “You look like a man from across the sea.” She said softly as he strode toward Garrick with her hips swinging from side to side gently.

“It doesn’t matter where I’m from…what matters is why I’m here.” Garrick said in a light, but still mildly aggressive tone as he starred at the woman’s exposed legs as she walked.

The woman gave a seductive laugh and reached out to lightly though Garrick’s shoulder “then tell me why are you here?” she smiled lustfully at Garrick, her eyes not leaving his face as she reached for his hood. However, as her hand graced the edges of the cloaks hood, Garrick’s hand lashed out and snatched her hand. Instantly he could feel the shadows shift, hissing at him for what he had just done.

“I’m here to learn the ways of the priests.” He said, matter of factly

The young girl smiled and gave a slight moan “hmm, yes I know…you’re the one I saw in the fire…if the fire doesn’t lie, and it never does, then you are much to handsome to be wearing that hood.” These words were nothing new to Garrick, the wenches and whores he slept with in his adventures to fill the void in his soul had said things all too similar. Still, there was something in this woman’s eyes that brought up a feeling in the pit of his hollow stomach…one he had not felt for a very long time.

Slowly his grip loosened on her wrist and the woman’s light fingers grasped his hood and gently pulled it over his head to reveal Garrick’s hard face. Though his face was still the stone cold stone carving it normally was, his eyes showed the effects of her simple gesture. “Wh-who are you?” Garrick asked like a small child trying to desperately grasp what he could not understand.

“My name is Mira.” She said ever so lightly “the head Priestess of this temple.” She smiled as she continued her seductive acts of physical contact, swiping her hand gently down the young man’s cheek “and you are Garrick Arryn…aren’t you?”

Garrick suddenly had a rush of his usual self charge into his thoughts and he put one foot back and placed a hand on his dagger “How do you know all of this?” he growled, but the young woman barely moved in response.

“The light tells much of what has been and will soon be…I have seen you in the fires Garrick, your coming was not unexpected.” She said smoothly, wrapping her hand around the side of his face gently “I know why you are here, you are here to take things which are not yours to have…use powers that not mere mortal should hold…do things that no priest ever could.” She smiled from ear to ear as she moaned her next words “I’ve been waiting so long for you.”

Garrick trembled at her voice as the words slipped through her lips, it was as if a spell had been cast on the young man, his heart drummed against his chest and he spoke in a tone of pleasure that he rarely knew “if you know so much…then will you teach me what I’ve come here to learn?”

“Yes.” She said and then turned on the balls of her feet and began walking back towards the shadows from which she had emerged “but it is not as easy as simply learning, first you must understand.” She gave a wicked smile to the fourth brother of the Arryns “first you must have faith…come with me, there is much to be done.”









BACK AT THE ARENA



“Roarke!” Renold exclaimed as he took his old friends hand in a strong grip and brought his body into him for a friendly embrace

As the embrace ended Roarke pushed the girl his brothers had called Rydell forward “May I present my sister, Rydell Lannister.” The man said with glee; however it would appear that his sister did not share it.

Renold returned her slight nod and gave a smile fit for an angel “It is a pleasure to meet the sister of my good friend. Me and your brother go back quite a time, don’t we?” Renold smiled and patted Roarke on the shoulder. He then turned to see that two of his brothers were staring at the girl while Gideon glared at the man, he didn’t like his space being invaded by anyone and that went double for other houses. If it were only the girl there he would not have cared because he would have been just as interested in her as the rest. His mother didn’t even bother to turn around when he heard Roarke’s voice, she knew better than to put herself into a position to say something that Rylond would make her regret later.

“Let me introduce you to my brothers, Rydell.” He turned a pointed out each brother one by one “Gideon, Addam and Rylond and that rather dashing woman is my mother.” Gytha didn’t move, mere flattery was not enough to get her to associate with the likes of a Lannister.

Gideon was about to speak up but Rylond beat him to the punch “It is such a pleasure to meet yet another Lannister.” Rylond announced, throwing himself from the throne and coming over to take Rydell’s hand and bowing to kiss it “especially a lovely one such as you.” He gave a sly grin and stood straight up again “I knew the Lannister’s came in many forms but not in the forms of angels.” And so the charming began.

Just about that time a soldier ran into the box, one of the elite guard that Gideon insisted the family bring just incase “My lord! There is something you need to see.”

Rylond didn’t even acknowledge the solider, he simply waved him off and called to Gideon “Brother, please go deal with whatever is troubling the men.” He usually took the word of his guard but they had a tendency to overreact and this was no time to humor those reactions.

Gideon growled, irritated that his brother got in on the girls first yet again and stood from his seat “Fine, but I’m taking off this bloody cape.” He said, un-strapping the bear hid from his shoulders and laying over the back of his chair before marching towards the guard “This better be good Rodirok.” He hissed, following the man out of the box and to the small Arryn camp outside.



THE ARRYN CAMP


Gideon stomped through the sand, his head beating with envy, anger and irritation part being due to his brother and part to the fact that the men were making up some wild ass story about flying monsters in the air. He swore that if he got down here and found out they were going nuts over some overgrown Essos bird that he was going to pound someone into the ground.

“Okay, so where is this flying monster of yours Rodirok?” Gideon growled, coming to a rough stop in the middle of the camp.

“It’s right over this ridge sir.” The guard said, hurrying the Constable along to a small sand mound at the edge of camp. Gideon rolled his eyes and marched up the sand mound, his feet sliding on the loose sand. As he climbed he lost his balance and suddenly tripped, falling onto his hands and knees. Cursing under his breath he tried to stand, when suddenly a wave of air rushed over him and the shadows of dogs flew over him. He hit the ground and rolled onto his back to see what the hell had just happened. What he found were the damn Stark mutts her hauling ass through the camp, probably on their way back to their damn masters.


Gideon was slightly worried now and quickly rolled back to his feet and charged up the rest of the mound. Rodirok reached out his hand to help the general to his feet and once he got his footing he looked out over the empty sea. In the distance a wall of dust and dirt was being kicked into the air by a line of figures on horseback and soaring above them were what appeared to be birds overgrown by a few thousand times. Gideon’s eyes shot wide open as he looked at the incoming contacts. He looked over to Rodirock, who seemed just as surprised as he was…he failed to mention the wall of men rushing toward the site. But judging from his surprise that probably meant they weren’t there when he last looked, it would make sense since those…things in the air looked big enough to see from miles away.

“Get the mean geared up, I want two formations of spearmen and swordsmen geared up and on me in five minutes and make sure all the archers are ready. Send the royal guard detachment to the box and make sure they keep my family safe.” Gideon thought fast and talked fast, spitting out orders like he had this all memorized in his head for days.

“Right away.” Rodirok exclaimed and turned on his heel to give the High Constables orders. Whatever these things were, they weren’t getting past Gideon without a fight, he was the scariest damn thing on this continent.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: House Lannister Character Portrait: House Stark Character Portrait: House Martell Character Portrait: House of Arryn Character Portrait: The Targaryens (and Dothraki) Character Portrait: House Tyrell Character Portrait: House Baratheon Character Portrait: House Bolton

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#, as written by Arik223
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Down at the Arena Logan was preparing with some of the Baratheon guards. If everything went well Logan should will all three rounds without a problem, seeing as his opponent is a rider from a lesser house. Logan would go right after the Tully rider and the Stark rider, who happened to be Jared Stark. Logan expected Jared to win, and so he did. Personally Logan had no problem with the Starks, and he believed that their alliance would just benefit the family. While the next round's were going on Logan scanned the crowd, glazing over pretty girls from every house. Each house had their own daughters who were a sight to behold, but one had caught his attention. For a full minute he could no get his eyes off of Ceresi Stark.

"Careful Logan, she might catch you looking." Joan spoke behind him.

"Better if she does." Logan said with a smirk, sort of hoping the young Stark would catch his gaze.

"Now we both know that your brother would never let that." Joan said sighing at the young Logan.

"He might. If he listen's for once." Logan put on his helm just as the Stark match was finishing.

Logan made his way towards Jared. "That was a hell of a match." Logan had met Jared a couple of times and Logans own personality never made him think less of Jared, who was just his age."Its been a while hasn't it?" He said extending his hand.

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Aeon sat on his seat, still looking at the other houses smiling at their heads. One his guards approached and whispered something in his ear. Aeon's face turned cold in an instant. He turned to Elean "Ill be back." He stepped off the high chair and before she could protest he was gone. Aeon saddled his horse and rode to camp as quickly as he could.

The house's camps were oragnized in a way that they aren't too close to each other, but at the same time not too far. Aeon drew his sword when he saw couple of figures running towards him, but sheathed it when he realized it was just the Stark wolves. "Whats the problem?" Aeon demanded to the head of his guard. "The man simply pointed and Aeon walked his horse in that direction. He stopped as a shudder went through his body.

To the distance was a wall of horseman, but the man on horseback weren't the issue. The damn issue was that there were giant birds flying over them... Dragon's. Aeon's rumors were instantly confirmed, but that didn't stop the impending danger he saw in- front of him. Aeon's defensive insticts suddenlt kicked in. To hell with the dragons, they were going to get any step closer. "Ready the man. Defensive formation, I want men geared up and in front of camp in sixty seconds!. No ones get's through!". Aeon looked his side and saw Gideon Arryn doing the same thing. From what he had heard Gideon was a good fighter, and surely a worthy adversary. "Gideon!" Aeon yelled trying to get the young commander's attention, "Connect our forces." If there was ever a time to cooperate, it was now. The houses were not prepared for this, they had not brought enough man to stand against a dragon.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: House Martell Character Portrait: House of Arryn Character Portrait: House Baratheon

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#, as written by Tempest
Malak Martell


Word of the coming Dragons did not take long to reach the ears of Malak Martell. It was his daughter, Lyla, who brought him the news in a flurry of excitement and barely disguised fear. She had heard it from one of her guards who had heard it from one of the dozens of Dornish informants that infested the tournament. House Martell rarely relied on brute strength to get anything done.

Malak had listened carefully to his daughter when she knelt between her parents, their voices barely audible above the crash of armoured bodies and the roar of the crowd.

"At least two Dragons and a mass of cavalry. Unknown in number." Lyla related the words in a sudden rush so that her father had to ask her to repeat them before he nodded in understanding. It was no surprise to him, and should be to no one, had they really expected that the Blood of the Dragon would not pay them a visit when they so open flaunted themselves outside their borders?

"We will go and greet the newcomers then." He said with a firm decision in his voice before standing and sweeping his white robes behind him. He held out an arm to each of the women and they took them, moving as one and leaving the box as their guards closed in about them.

The mass of humanity that thronged the tournament was beginning to show signs of panic as the Martells passed through them, orange clad soldiers sweeping the crowds aside with spears and shields as they made their way towards the great tent encampment that marked the accommodations of all the noble houses.

Orange banners snapped in the fierce wind that blew in from the desert to the far right of the encampment. The Dornish had been placed as far from everything as they could have been and Malak felt the insult but had chosen to say nothing to the Lannisters, there would be enough to say later in the day.

As they walked calmly through the camp he noted the Baratheon and Arryn contingents forming up, soldiers hurrying towards the ranks with hurriedly donned armour and weapons. He almost laughed aloud, what could they hope to do against even one Dragon let alone two backed by a Dothraki horde?

They arrived in their own section, surrounded by Dornish soldiers who showed evident relief on their faces as the noble family appeared. All were armed and turned out in proper order by the guard commander who had not waited for any orders to do so and Malak chalked up a good mark in the officers favour for later.

"My lord." The soldier said as he hurried up, bowing briefly. "The men are assembled. Orders?"

"Yes, stand them down. We can't hope to battle a Dragon so why even make it look like we plan on trying? Swords and armour only. Form behind us."

The soldier nodded and barked orders at the remainder of the guard detail who quickly laid down spears and shields before forming a small block at the backs of their noble family who had paced to the front of the camp to watch the storm approach.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: House Lannister Character Portrait: House Stark Character Portrait: House Martell Character Portrait: House of Arryn Character Portrait: The Targaryens (and Dothraki) Character Portrait: House Tyrell Character Portrait: House Baratheon Character Portrait: House Bolton

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The heat was unbearable. She could feel her cheeks turning a flush pink. She hated Essos! All of it, as far as Rydell Lannister was concerned could be swallowed up by the sea and she would not care less.

Unfortunately, it was unlikely to ever happen, much to her disgruntlement. She could not understand why anyone would want to come to this barren land run wild by heathens. And now to be taken from the dignity of her seat where she sat happily brooding – well as happily as one could be here – and dragged across the hot molten sand to be gawked at like a prize mare!

There was a time of course when she had enjoyed all their attentions. All eyes on her but of late it was beginning to grate on her nerves, severely.

Nothing was going her way!

She stood stoic and indifferent; ignoring the men staring at her as her brother and Renold Arryn talked. Until Renold thought it wise to introduce his siblings to her. Gideon, Addam and Rylond.

Rydell had no interest in any of them. In fact, she did not even spare them a glance. And of course there was that Lady Gyatha Arryn who put on false airs. Well, Rydell thought, if the woman did not acknowledge her she would not in turn return the favour. Who did she think she was?!? To ignore her, Rydell Lannister, who was no doubt her social better. Of all the insults-

Rydell, started in surprise as Lord Arryn pounced from his Throne as gracefully as a Leopard to retrieve her hand and place a delicate kiss atop her fair hand. And for the first time since Rydell had landed on Essos she found herself slightly amused.

This Lord Arryn showed no qualms at having broken all the rules of etiquette between a man and a woman of gentle breeding as he first touched her by taking her hand and then having the audacity to go further and kiss it peering up at her with a devil may care look plastered to his dark features.

“It is such a pleasure to meet yet another Lannister.” He said to her. “Especially a lovely one such as you.” He gave a sly grin and stood straight up again. “I knew the Lannister’s came in many forms but not in the forms of angels.”

Rydell's face showed no outwards signs of emotion. Although, internally, she had to admit she was smiling entertained. She was not as naive as to be taken in by his flattery. However, his words amused her more then his actions previously.

She pulled her hand out of his grasp.

It was then a Soldier rushed into the box and beseeched his Lord in an urgent matter. Rydell watched, intrigued as Rylond Arryn swept the matter over to be taken care by his brother Gideon who not at all happy went to do his brothers bidding.

There was something about the authority Rylond Arryn commanded that Rydell could not help but admire. The same as Raith's. Maybe it was a trait all the Lord's possessed. But then she doubted it.

“Would those many forms be demons?” Rydell suddenly spoke for the first time. “I must admit it is rather novel.” She went on with a small smile. “To hear praise for a Lannister from an Arryn's lips. I remember the stories of a time when Arryn's wished many a Lannister's head on a platter . . . or a spike.

“Forgive my sister,” Roarke interrupted, his eyes as sharp as his words as he glared at Rydell. “She does not know how to let bygones be bygones.”

She took no notice.

If he wanted to drag her along here. He must suffer the consequences of his actions.

“And my brother seems to forget his allegiances.” She replied serenely, completely unperturbed.

“My allegiance lies to my heart first and foremost.” Her brother answered vexation taxing his voice.

“Ah, now I'm sure Lord Arryn would disagree with you. Your allegiance should be to your family first. Do you not agree, my Lord?” Rydell questioned, raising enticing eyes to peer at the dark features of Rylond Arryn.

It was then that another Solider entered the Arryn box without so much as knocking. Bowing he informed all of what was going on out there. With supposed Dragon's and Dothraki heathens. There were no more Dragons. Rydell wanted to say to the foolish Soldier but kept quiet instead as he bowed once more and exited to post sentry outside with the rest of the guards surrounding the box.

“Well, sister.” Roarke abruptly spoke up moving towards the door the Soldier had just exited through. “I think I shall take your advice and see to the family's welfare. Lord Arryn,” He said suddenly turning to Rylond. “You don't mind entertaining my dear sister for a short time, do you? My many thanks.”

“Wait!” Rydell called, realising what he meant. “You cannot leave me here with these-”

But he had already slipped out the door. Damn him!

People.” The word was barely a whisper on her lips and she turned around to peer at the Arryn's a little dumbfounded.

However, the mystified look disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. The sight far across the distance struck out as an opportunity that could not be missed.

Over Rylond Arryn's shoulder, Rydell could see Raith staring out across at the Arryn's box. She was certain that his knuckles were turning an ashen white from his incredibly hard grip on the wooden panelling, although she was too far away to see, but she was certain.

She was tired of waiting for Raith. It was a game they played. She would give a little. He would give a little. She would hold out and he would hold out. They were both tactful players.

But it occurred to Rydell that if the pieces on the chessboard were moving backwards and forwards and she still wasn't getting anywhere . . . Then it was a game she was losing . . . And Rydell Lannister did not lose. It was time she spurred her Knight into action. By hook or crook.

An angelic smile touched her full lips.

“I'm in debt to your hospitality, my sweet Lord.” Rydell allured, brushing her hand across his finely adorned chest – more then a little surprised by the hardness that met her hand as she swept past him; and took the seat on the left to the Throne.




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The heat that affected most did not penetrate his all black vestures. He was always cold. It seemed this man was forever shrouded in the shadows. In fact he preferred the shadows. The cover they provided was priceless. A man could do many things from beneath the covers of darkness.

A man like Aric Lannister . . .

“What. Is she doing there?” Raith questioned, his voice low yet sharp as he continued to look out across the pit, his eyes locked on a form dressed in light blue when the door to the Lannister box opened and closed in quick succession.

“Who is where?” Roarke replied innocently unperturbed by the cold voice that many would have shaken in fear to as he entered to see his cousins back.

“How dare you!” Raith roared as he turned blazing eyes on his cousin.

This was what they're relationship was like. One moment as thick as thieves and the next two enemies stood at opposite ends of the vanguard.

“How dare I what? Introduce her to my friends?” Roarke answered calmly. “She's my sister.”

“She's my-”

“Your what?” Roarke prodded, his handsome features as emotionless as Rydell's just earlier with the Arryn's.

Aric watched the scene play out before him with the eyes of a cat. He stood in a corner of the now rather quiet box. No one had noticed when he had arrived. He was as quiet and deadly as a wind blown storm. At least, that's what they said about him.

He silently applauded Roarke. For once he showed signs of the Lannister cunning. Besides his undeniable good looks and the Lannister blonde manes, Aric often wondered whether the boy was truly Lannister. He was too kind by a half. But then again he was Ivan's boy.

Aric watched his two nephews with an intelligent indifference.

“Cousin. She's your cousin. I'll remind you cousin seeing as you seem to forget it so often.”

When Raith just glowered and growled low in his throat with barely contained rage; Roarke pressed on.

“I think it would be a fine match. Indeed.” He added moving forward a smile playing on his lips. “It is time, as father says, that Rydell find a decent husband.”

“Enough!” Aric interceded stepping out of the shadows when he felt the tension between the two boys reach breaking point.

“Uncle.” Roarke greeted with a gallant bow.

“The Arryn's are not good enough for her!” Raith continued on furiously, in the full swing of his violent temper. Little could control it.

“Then who is? . . .” Roarke questioned calmly, with a stronger leash on his anger. “You?” He dared to venture.

Aric, for the first time felt something of awe looking upon his younger nephew. He always knew of the defiance Roarke showed towards Raith. But never had the man been quite sure of Roarke's Lannister spirit until this very moment.

Two Lions, Aric mused with a bemused internal smirk, baring their teeth.

“Ah, but that cannot be can it?” Roarke smirked.

“Enough! I said.” Aric boomed. His arm the sole thing standing between Raith's lunge and Roarke. “That. Is. Quite Enough.”

There was no time for such folly now.

“Roarke. Go join your father and Lord Wyekham with the Guardsmen.” Aric commanded.

It hadn't been long since the Stark bitches had arrived back from their wonderings that the whole tourney had been informed of the arrival of the Dothraki . . . and . . . The Targaryens.

Foolish Dogs of the North! Aric Lannister tried not to spit. Yes, only a foolish Stark would rouse chaos and anarchy amongst all. Instead of informing the important people of all the important Households, they had allowed for all that were present to know. It became almost impossible to organise people in a state of hysterics. And that's what the spectators of the Jousting had become. Hysteric. Though, the jousting continued at Aric's instructions. No need to frighten the fools more than they already were.

“We are to stand together with the other families against the Dragons?” Roarke asked.

“Don't be a fool boy!” Aric spat.

“The men are at the ready but they shall stand down, indefinitely.” Raith interceded having found a modicum of calm. “Let the other's lose their men in their stupidity thinking they can defeat fire breathing Dragons and a clan of naked heathens who number more then double all of us here. Let them do our work for us.”

Aric's lips curled up at the corner. And this is why he put so much effort into this nephew.

Roarke frowned.

“Go to your father.” Aric commanded again.

It was as Roarke left that Aric felt eyes on him. He turned his head slowly to peer behind him to find Keeleb Storm standing in a far corner with crossed arms peering at him with eyes filled with . . . something. Eyes that disturbed Aric Lannister.

“You too Storm. Be gone.”

Storm gazed held Aric's for a long moment before he departed not saying a single word.

“The Targaryens must be dealt with.” Raith's words brought Aric back from the wake of Keeleb Storm's knowing gaze.

“Delicately, nephew. Delicately.”

“They are half-breed's now. Nothing more then mongrels. And mongrels must be irradiated before they affect the populace.”

Aric smiled at the thought of irradiation and bloodshed. Blood of Targaryens. How sweet it would taste. But now was not the time to get lost in the fantasy of the wicked warm substance. Yet, he could feel it glide across his tongue and trickle down his throat. He swallowed hard.

“But powerful mongrels.” He managed to add. “A knife should come with a smile nephew.”

Both men stood in silence for sometime as heat floated on the air in actual physical waves.

“The Arryn's are not good enough to be joined with the name Lannister.” Raith's casual but deeply emotive sentence brought Aric back from the dark reverie lulled by the thought of the life giving liquid that filled his dreams.

Aric said naught for a long time. He was beginning to realise that Roarke's words held more truth then Aric had first given them credence. 'Then who is?' . . . Good enough for Rydell . . . 'You' . . . Raith Lannister.

It would put a sword in all of his great plans for the boy, Aric thought. He must bite this infatuation in the bud. It could not be . . . for many reasons. Family the least of them.

Aric's eyes followed his nephews insistent gaze across to the Arryn's box to his niece. For a moment his unmoving heart began to beat frantically. For a moment he was pulled back to that night all those years ago. Of merriment, claret, dancing and laughing.

So much. So much she resembled that long dead mother of hers . . . And he could all but understand his nephews desires.

“The Arryn's are as good as any.” Aric suddenly said with a curtness he rarely used with this nephew. “Alliances are bought, dear nephew. Not by coin but by blood. Everything and everyone at your disposal you must use to get what you want . . . And if I have taught you anything Raith and if you are to remember anything, then remember this my boy. Nobody, owes you anything because of your noble blood . . .”

Characters Present

Character Portrait: House Lannister Character Portrait: House Stark Character Portrait: House Martell Character Portrait: House of Arryn Character Portrait: The Targaryens (and Dothraki) Character Portrait: House Tyrell Character Portrait: House Baratheon Character Portrait: House Bolton

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"Cersei!"

Cersei let out a hiss of frustration and surprise as Robin's thin, bony elbow jabbed her in her ribs.

"What," she grumbled, pushing her sister's arm away, "What is it."

Robin eyed Cersei skeptically, "Your blinder than an owl. Look down at the pit."

"I know." Cersei said, blushing furiously. She had seen Logan Baratheon observing her so coolly. He was a handsome man; that she would admit. And his eyes were beautiful. But if there was ever a stubborn Stark in love, it would have had to been Cersei. She wasn't going to give her heart away like Barbara. Barbara, who was subject to being offered up to Raith Lannister as a peace making object; Barbara who had fallen in love with a man so easily; Barbara who was going to be sold like a horse because of pedigree blood.

Of course, Cersei was well aware of the fact that she also had the possibility of being sold like a horse. But she was younger than Barbara, and so it was less likely she would go to the Lannisters. Besides, they already had enough blonde blood in them.

"You don't like him?" Robin asked, plainly scrutinizing the man, who had greeted their cousin, Jared, in the tournament pits. Sure he could not see her now, Cersei turned her blue eyes on him, observing the way he moved, the shape of his lips, his eyes, his nose...

"No, he's very handsome." She admitted, pursing her lips and blushing again, much to her chagrin, "It's just...how many of these men are really here to court one of us? Most of them are just looking for another cow to tie their families together and to produce crossbred children so Houses will cease their rivalry."

"What do you mean, 'another cow'," Little Rick said, squirming for a seat between his sisters. Cersei, admittedly, felt sorry for her youngest brother. Jason was a good eldest sibling, but not an involved brother. There was not much he and Rick did together. Jason seemed to see his primary job as taking care of and protecting the siblings. But when that was not needed, he'd often just lollygag off on his on. Rick would be left with the girls, much to his disappointment. And it was hard to babysit him all the time; especially during meetings with Richard. For the most part, people were under the impression that Richard was simply a close Stark family friend. Cersei felt that Erin often times suspected there was more between Barbara and Richard, but if he did, he never protested it. It was no secret that Erin Stark favored the young man.

On the other hand, Rick was in the dark about most of these things, and none of the girls were willing to risk him knowing.

Before the girls could continue speaking, the Stark wolves rushed in, panting and wild eyed. They were followed by a few Stark men, who eyed the children warily, and spoke in hushed voices to Ian and Erin. In a matter of moments, Erin had leaped from his seat and was gone.

Lyssa Stark began hearing her children towards the camp, while Richard made a prompt excuse and followed after Erin. And all this while, Cersei could not fathom what was happening.

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"More than a while," Jared said, clasping Logan's arm and giving him a genuine smile, "But it's good to see a friendly face in all this tension." He laughed a quite laugh, before his eyes fell on his younger cousin.

Cersei. She was staring at Logan, unperturbed, talking, quickly, by the movements of lips, with her younger sister Robin. Both of them seemed to be scrutinizing the young Baratheon man. And through this, Jared saw opportunity.

"I think my cousin, Cersei," he said pointing, "fancies you. Perhaps, I could introduce you two to one another?" Before the conversation could continue, Jared was interrupted by the sight of several Stark guards consulting his uncle. Both Derek and Richard left with Erin Stark, and Jared could feel that something was wrong.

"Logan," he said, patting the man's shoulder, "I should like to think we can converse later. I think I'll be needed shortly."

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Deanerys glowered as she spurred her spotted mare on. Dust and dirt wafted into her hair, permeating her white locks and producing a dirty but tolerable film of tan clouds before her eyes. This, she was used to. All her life she had traveled upon horseback; puffs of horse kicked dust clouds were of little concern to her.

No, it was the armies gathering before them that irked her now.

There were many horses; she had never seen such a culmination of them all at one place. These horses were different from the horses of Essos. Tall and sturdy, all the same, but thicker in terms of body and shape. They lacked the grace and slim features of the Dothraki horses. However, she could not help but be awed by the few huge horses, with feathered hooves and thick muscles. The Dothraki would admire those, she knew. But their smaller Westeros cousins would be of no use to the Dothraki; the Essos horses were enough.

Just ahead of her Khal Drogo (the second), spun his blue stallion around, urging the horse back in Dany’s direction. Deanerys had little idea of what the previous Khal Drogo had been like. Had he laughed and smiled like her Drogo when the cool night winds with tousled their hair during midnight rides? Would he hold her hand tenderly or kiss her face when she was scared? Was he smart and cunning like her Drogo, or a strong, merciless, brute?

She pressed her hand to her stomach, crumpling the soft cloth in her fingers. Had the previous Khal Drogo loved his unborn child the way she knew this one would? Or course, Dany’s stomach was too flat to betray anything just yet, and her breasts had not yet swollen. She had only suspected her pregnancy from the week before. Another month would have to pass for her to be sure. But she knew the child would be loved. By herself, her spouse, and the entire khalasar.

She had confided her suspicions in her brother Jaehaerys immediately and had quickly regretted doing so. Now a days she could not escape Jaehaerys threatening gaze that loomed over her like a storm. Nor could she blatantly avoid her brother’s unsettling advances. He had become increasingly bolder, storming in on Dany during baths and scolding her for accepting the blood of a Dothraki over her on. In a fleeting moment of panic, she had told Drogo, who had, typically, confronted Jaehaerys. This had only seemed to increase the boy’s advances for the day. His bold moves would get him killed, if he persisted, and she worried for his safety. Idiot he may be, but he was her brother.

Above her, in the skies many wing beats up, Deanerys’ two dragons floated like all seeing guards, protecting and warning her of the incoming threats. They were beautiful in the sky, like sparkling jewels in a cloth of blue.

Skywing was named on an uncomplicated way; the underneath of his wings were a beautiful blue that blended on with the sky. Targarion, too, had a straightforward name. He was named after the Targaryen’s themselves. At homage to a long line of dragons.

Upon arriving close to the gathered armies, Deanerys raised her arm. The Targaryens stopped behind her, and, save for twenty of them, remained there as Dany and Khal Drogo went forward with their small splinter group.

“Armies of Westeros,” she called out, “We come in peace and we bring gifts for all of you.”

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Erin Stark looked over the crowd of gathered armies. Most of the families had assembled themselves with their armies. So to did the Starks stand, with their wolves by their side. Of course, the Targaryens had their dragons. His children were lined up in a perfect presentation, from oldest to youngest. Richard lingered close by them. Damn that boy for never being able to hide his affection. Surely, Ian would give Barbara away faster if he knew...Of course, Erin could never be sure. The girls would always claim that there was nothing between Richard and Barbara; they were just close friends.

Erin was slow to believe them. Instead he worried of what action his father would take. Erin himself was not familiar with Raith Lannister. In saying that, he was no close with the man in any way, and only knew him on a formal basis. Ian, if he knew anything further about the young Lannister was slow to share the information. He was already aware of how his son loathed the idea of giving his children away. He would not risk Erin going to extremes to protect his daughters.

As the Targaryen's came forward, so too, did the Stark. Primarily, Erin, Ian, Jason, and Jared, along with a splinter of about twenty guards. They would take no risk when dealing with the Targaryens, not with their overgrown lizards looming right above their heads.

"Deanarys Targaryen," Ian Stark greeted, as the families met in the middle. Surely other would send their families forward. It discomforted Erin, knowing they were the only Starks at the mouth of a sea of Dothraki.

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Character Portrait: House Lannister
Character Portrait: House Stark
Character Portrait: House Martell
Character Portrait: House of Arryn
Character Portrait: The Targaryens (and Dothraki)
Character Portrait: House Tyrell
Character Portrait: House Baratheon
Character Portrait: House Bolton

Newest

Character Portrait: House Bolton
House Bolton

Our Blades Are Sharp

Character Portrait: House Baratheon
House Baratheon

Ours is the Fury

Character Portrait: House Tyrell
House Tyrell

Growing Strong (WIP)

Character Portrait: House of Arryn
House of Arryn

As High as Honor

Character Portrait: House Martell
House Martell

Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken

Character Portrait: House Stark
House Stark

Winter Is Coming

Character Portrait: House Lannister
House Lannister

Hear Me Roar!

Trending

Character Portrait: House Martell
House Martell

Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken

Character Portrait: House of Arryn
House of Arryn

As High as Honor

Character Portrait: House Bolton
House Bolton

Our Blades Are Sharp

Character Portrait: House Stark
House Stark

Winter Is Coming

Character Portrait: House Baratheon
House Baratheon

Ours is the Fury

Character Portrait: House Lannister
House Lannister

Hear Me Roar!

Character Portrait: House Tyrell
House Tyrell

Growing Strong (WIP)

Most Followed

Character Portrait: House Lannister
House Lannister

Hear Me Roar!

Character Portrait: House Stark
House Stark

Winter Is Coming

Character Portrait: House Bolton
House Bolton

Our Blades Are Sharp

Character Portrait: House Tyrell
House Tyrell

Growing Strong (WIP)

Character Portrait: House Martell
House Martell

Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken

Character Portrait: House of Arryn
House of Arryn

As High as Honor

Character Portrait: House Baratheon
House Baratheon

Ours is the Fury


Fullscreen Chat » Create Topic » A Game of Thrones: Battle for Westeros: Out of Character

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Most recent OOC posts in A Game of Thrones: Battle for Westeros

Re: A Game of Thrones: Battle for Westeros

Hey guys sorry life is still busy. I approved Lance, but if I've seen this has died too much, I'll probably restart it.

Re: A Game of Thrones: Battle for Westeros

@SirLancelot
I'll try to review your application tonight or tomorrow. Probably tomorrow.

As a note to everyone. There are two things that have been prolonging my post: primarily college, and meandering around in the background, Skyrim. I don't really have a lot of energy and I come home after a long day using a long way of commute I'm not completely used to yet. And I've been using Skyrim as a form of relaxation, but I'm really too tired to complete my post (which is sounding very bland). So I'll have to finish and review it tomorrow, and then post. Be patient as it is the key introduction of the Targaryens.

Re: A Game of Thrones: Battle for Westeros

Sharp blades eventually become blunt and all metal rusts my dear, so bring it on! ;P


x


P.S. Great to have you on board Lance! :D

Re: A Game of Thrones: Battle for Westeros

It has been confirmed; The noble(Yeah right) House Bolton will join you all at this wonderful tournament after much deliberation between it's key members. The Black Knight will be participating in the proceedings and as such will bring much glory to House Bolton and his own House Cerwyn. I do hope you all take a liking to Lord Bolton and his brother and sister otherwise some very unfortunate things are likely to happen.

The Starks and Lannisters better watch their backs because 'Our Blades Are Sharp'

Re: A Game of Thrones: Battle for Westeros

Okay guys, just got back from Canada. Starting college tomorrow >.< I'll try to get a post in tonight, and if not, tomorrow I'll most likely be able to squeeze something in.

Re: A Game of Thrones: Battle for Westeros

Okay no prob Temp. I wonder what would be causing that?

Re: A Game of Thrones: Battle for Westeros

So I would love to post but every time I try to post in an IC (My own RP included) I get booted out of RPG so I am a tad frustrated. I will try again tomorrow.

Re: A Game of Thrones: Battle for Westeros

Hey guys, just a heads up, I'll be going on vacation tomorrow night, so I might not be able to post for the rest of the week. Unfortunately, looks like we might have to skip Kami and Tempest. Hopefully they'll get to posting thought >.<

EDIT: Also with the acceptation of Ruby's character when she finishes i'm thinking single characters can become a thing now.

Re: A Game of Thrones: Battle for Westeros

Lucky you! I'm starting on the 27th. I've got really mixed feelings you know :/ I've already seen the people in my grade, even talked with some of them, and I'm still sweating bullets thinking about it >.< Like I very literally break out into sweat when I think "ohmigod I'm starting college". Anyone else have, like, a billion hour breaks between classes?

Re: A Game of Thrones: Battle for Westeros

Sorry my post took a while, I'm on vacation coming back tomorrow! And i'm starting my my first college day on the 30th. Very excited!

Re: A Game of Thrones: Battle for Westeros

No problem Kami. I'll be starting college up soon >.< Next week. Kind of nervous. Really not looking forward to that commute to and from home...>.<

Re: A Game of Thrones: Battle for Westeros

My next post may take a while maybe up to two days? It was my first day of college life! I'm seriously exhausted. But do not worry! I will definitely not just leave this rp hanging.

Re: A Game of Thrones: Battle for Westeros

Yeah, I know. Sorry about that >.< And really, sorry Scarlett if it sounded like I'm grilling you. I'm probably going to keep apologizing every other post or so, because that really was not my intention. >.<

It's been a little while since I've singularly GM'd an rp. Ugh, I would say about a year. The last rp this year I had a co-mod, and we were dividing the work up since I get quite busy myself. But then again, so did my modder, and that's why we stopped. So I am sometimes late with certain things. Do forgive me for that >.<

Re: A Game of Thrones: Battle for Westeros

Well that kind of thing needs to be announced Ichigo my friend. I had no idea this was going on in an order and if you wish to do something to change the direction of the RP just be sure to post it here in ooc so people know :)

Re: A Game of Thrones: Battle for Westeros

Well right now, I would just rather everyone post in the same order that we posted in originally. That way, everyone should have ample time to respond to the doing of the other rpers :3

Like I said, sorry if it sounds like I'm grilling ^.^ I write formally and I feel unless I don't include happy emotes everyone thinks I'm mad at them.

Its just I was thinking, everyone is clumped together, it would be easier, assuming everyone is going to read through everyone else's posts and respond to everyone else's doings, or the like. So I thought establishing a kind of pattern of rping would be beneficial so everyone has their ample time to respond. Like I said, a comfort zone.

I guess when our characters all separate and distill throughout the camp, or go where ever they are going, we all may inevitably end up posting at different rates >.< But right now, I was hoping orderly would work best for this mass meeting of characters, especially since there are really so many characters.

Re: A Game of Thrones: Battle for Westeros

It's fine. I just assumed because everyone had posted that we could all continue on and you had mentioned introducing the Targryans after a few more post. So just let me know when it's okay to post again. And maybe for the others too as they may read this and wonder when to post or not again.

Re: A Game of Thrones: Battle for Westeros

Sorry if it sounds like I'm grilling you. I'd rather just wait till I know everyone's capabilities, and everyone knows everyone else's capabilities. A comfort zone, I guess.

cron