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Jon Stark

"The North Remembers..."

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a character in “Crowns, Empires and Swords”, as played by Bromander Shepard

Description

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Name: Jon Stark

Age: 20
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Appearance & Build: Jon Stark is handsome, especially for a Stark. Often described as beautiful by many his odd uncle Craster once said that Jon was prettier than half of his daughters. With hair as dark as obsidian and eyes to match he has a striking appearance. Jon is a strong young man, broad of shoulder yet not bulky or hulking as some Northmen can be. His is a body of hard and dutiful training, like a sharpened sword of fine steel. Of average height stands 5'8". Jon is described as graceful and quick, with a face that is long, solemn and guarded, a face that gives nothing away.

Personality: Knows nothing.

Where they live: Currently living in exile and en route to seek refuge in the North Atlantic. Formerly lived in the Keep of Winterfell, the stronghold and seat of power for the royalty of Labrador. The locals however rarely call their land Labrador but instead merely refer to it as The North. For The North holds not to the names others give it. It's people are proud and strong, fierce and hardy. Like the beasts of the land they live in, the bear and the wolf and of course the ancient and powerful Dire Wolves. So connected to their land and it's creatures they are that the Kings of Winter, The Stark's took the Dire Wolf as their sigil and for centuries have tamed them and used them as companions and allies to hunt and live with. The North is home to the Old Gods and their sacred weirwood trees whose haunted faces, carved centuries ago by the children of the forest look out now upon the world of men ravaged by war. It is home to the wolf wood where within it's dark and ancient forests beasts prowl, ever hungry for the blood of those fool enough to try and tame their wild majesty. Most of all, the North is home to Winter. A land perpetually locked in snow and cold summer snow falls are not at all uncommon, and the winters are so harsh weeks pass before the sun may be seen. Cold and damp most southron lords and lieges see in the north but without the cold a man can't appreciate the fire in his hearth. Without the rain a man can't appreciate the roof over his head. Let the south have it's sun, it's flowers and affectations. The northerners have home.

What/ who they are: Jon is the third son of King Edmond Stark (now known as The King Who Knelt). He is the younger brother to Brandon Stark the eldest and heir, Edrick Stark, the middle son and older brother to his only sister Mira Stark the youngest of the Stark brood. Brandon and Edrick were killed in the battle for Winterfell. Mira along with Jon's mother Lyanna the Queen were both raped multiple times by the Khalidorian invaders before being put to the sword. Jon is now the only surviving heir to the Crown of Winter. With a father whose health is failing from his wounds suffered at the hands of the so called God King Jon very well may soon become the rightful King of The North yet he would be a king without a country if he does not manage to liberate his home land form the clutches of the Khalidorian occupation.

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They came out of the darkness. Like ghouls and demons and worse, howling for the blood of the living. The kind and noble king was caught unawares and unprepared as his hold fast burned. His small folk screamed as the invaders blades cut them down. His knights barely had time to don their armor before they too felt the cold bite of enemy steel. Castles crumbled and ancient God's Woods burned and all the while the wolves of winter howled in lament. Like a foul storm come to drown a ship and it's crew the invasion was fast as lighting and struck like thunder. All the while Jon waited for the battle to come to him and it was the waiting that was the hardest.

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While Jon's eldest brother Brandon rode out to meet the invaders Jon waited as was his duty, his charge to man the walls of Winterfell. His father told him the day he gave him his task that he was to be the watcher on the walls, the fire that burns against the cold and come dawn, he would usher in the light. Kind words for a childs task Jon had thought at the time. But when word of Brandon's death came Jon knew something was very wrong and felt his duty was more important than he could have ever imagined. When they came, they came in force.

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Howling like mad men the barbarians came with axe and sword and spear and hammer. The walls defenders proved little resistance to their hardened steel and the magic of their leader. The Northmen were out matched and out numbered. The seemed to lose the battle almost instantly. The castles defenses had not been finished in time. All the towers hadn't been manned by archers, reserve units were not in place and heavy cavalry was no where to be seen. The King never expected the enemy to reach Winterfell, not the Grey Keep, not the seat of the Kings of Winter for thousands of years. Unprepared or not the wolves did not lie down to die but fell baring their teeth.

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Jon was in the field with his great white dire wolf Ghost by his side, fighting shoulder to shoulder with his father's banner men. With his Valyrian steel sword, Long Claw in hand he fought to protect his home. He fought for his brother who died. He fought for his brother who yet lived, for his sister and his mother and for his father. he fought with every ounce of strength in him but it was not enough. Northmen died all around him and when the Grey Keep glew bright orange he knew the towers were on fire. It was in the final moments of the battle that he heard their cries. The screams of his mother and sister as the enemy seized them. He ran to them in the castle but was too late. His mother was dead, beaten to death after the invaders had their way with her. His sister lay dying in a pool of blood. They had stabbed her after using the daughter as they'd used the mother. They had left her to bleed to death alone and with tears in her eyes. Jon held his sister in his arms as she passed. Her last words were "Promise me Jon.... Promise me you'll remember."






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Jon had awoken the next morning, his mind filled with terrible nightmares of his home burning around him and his family dying. Dawn brought the crushing reality of it. His nightmare was all too real. Winterfell had been sacked and her people butchered or enslaved. He was the latter, Jon sat up in the snow to find himself bound by hand and tied to the man in front of him. The soldiers were getting the prisoners ready to move so up they got and the marching started. He had no idea where they were taking him but his mother and sister were dead. His father as well most like and his last brother. Jon was the only one left.

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The enemy had a name, the Khalidorian Empire led by magic wielding God King called Wanhope. When Jon had learned the name he'd repeated it quietly to himself over and over, like a prayer, a prayer for death. As he walked he'd listened to the soldiers talk and the other prisoners whisper. He'd learned that his father had surrendered the Grey Keep as soon as the enemy broke through the gates. He'd learned that the enemy already had control over most of the country. He'd heard rumors of pirtaes working with the enemy as well. But the hard truths he'd learned from Qhorin.

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Qhorin Halfhand was a ranger and one of his fathers most loyal men. He'd served the House Stark since long before Jon was born. He'd taught Jon everything. How to fight, how to kill, how to slip a knife under the collar bone in a fight to end it quick. He'd taught him to track game and skin a bear and everything in between, he was not Winterfell's Master at Arms but Jon always chose seasoning from the Halfhand over lessons from Ser Rodrick every time. Now the fabled Qhorin Halfhand was a prisoner same as everyone else. He was the one that told Jon about his other brother's death. He was the one that told him of his fathers fate. He was the one that told him about his aunt's children's enslavement after they posed as the prince and princesses in hopes to escape. That's when Qhorin told him that he was a Stark no more. He told him "You're a Snow. Your name is Jon Snow. You're not a Stark, say it."

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Qhorin's plan was simple. Jon was to pose as some bastard from the North, the two men would fake a fight and in the scramble make a grab for weapons and run. They were to flee to the South Atlantic, the royal family of House Caitlin had always been friends of the Starks. They would break free and flee together. Least that's what he'd told Jon before it began. So as they marched they started arguing. Qhorin called him bastard half a hundred times. "You're a bastard Jon Snow! I told them not to put a Bastard on watch!" Qhorin was loud and surly that way every one of the soldiers heard Jon's name. They couldn't know he was the prince. Qhorin kept at it until they heard the soldiers taking bets on how long before a fight broke out. That's when he made his move.

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They made a grab for their weapons, Jon ripped Long Claw from it's sheath and killed the soldier who took it. He killed three more men before the Halfhand told him to run. "Run, Jon! Run!" He barked. Jon protested, refused. Saying that he would not abandon him, he would not leave him to die but Qhorin would not hear it. Alone he kept six men at bay while shouting at Jon. He roared for him to run. He called him a fool boy and laughed when Jon said that there was no honor in retreat. Qhorin told him to run, that he was all that mattered. He told him that he was the North and he needed to live. Honorable men die, stiff legs and all but men without honor live to fight another day. It killed him inside but Qhorin would not allow him to stay. Jon cursed under his breath and ran as he heard the soldiers finally slay the Halfhand.

Skills:

- Swordsmanship- Jon has been trained how to fight with a sword from a very young age and has constantly pushed himself to be the best. The only member of his family who could ever best him was his eldest brother Brandon.

- Hunting- The youngest Stark son is an excellent woodsman and tracker, spending days alone in the woods with his direwolf Ghost tracking game.

- Martial Prowess- Like most princes and lordlings Jon and his brothers spend several hours each day training in the courtyard with Winterfell's Master at Arms training in the arts of war.

- Resourceful- Jon has always proven remarkably capable at thinking on his feet, even when well thought out plans dissolve around him Jon can adapt and overcome with relative ease.

- Tactics- Jon Stark is a skilled battlefield commander and military planner being able to string together defenses and attack strategies to surprise and confound even the most experienced opponent.

- Honor- While many may not see it as a skill per say Jon's innate sense of honor has endeared many to fight along side him in the past. He is an honest man, honest and true and because of that he can win over others trust where guile and deceit would fail utterly.

-Cold Resistance- Jon seems completely immune to the chilling effects of cold and snow, tied in with his icy power within him.

-The Hand of Winter- Gifted to only one in a thousand members of the Stark line Jon has the ability to create, control and manipulate cold, snow and ice. From flash freezing objects and individuals to creating entire icy blizzards Jon is the King of Winter in name and power.

-Premonitions- Jon is what is known as a dream seer, someone who has dreams what the future could hold. Often he speaks to the image of a three eyed raven in his dreams the raven leads Jon to sights and sounds sometimes thousands of miles or even years away.

-Warg- Jon can enter the minds of animals, primarily only the mind of Ghost his faithful Direwolf companion and only in his dreams.

Other:
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So begins...

Jon Stark's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Amelia Targaryen Character Portrait: Davina Mikaelson Character Portrait: Jon Stark Character Portrait: Mira Alington Character Portrait: Dalila Malyns Character Portrait: Jasunr Alington Character Portrait: Kenna Caitlin Character Portrait: Ajax Alexander
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"This is where you'll be working. You patrol here until your shift is done and the next shift comes to relieve you."

The South Atlantic guard captain walked the walls of the fortress city that housed the great castle of the royal family. The city had sprung to life after it's princesses returned. Princess Kenna Caitlin had magically appeared in the courtyard just behind the royal castle with several guests, all royalty in their own right. There were even rumors of dragons in the city as well. The guard captain had little time for such rumors as he had the duty of breaking in the fresh recruits. All able bodies were called to service to defend the city. Horrible tales were drifting down from The North and The South Atlantic was not going to suffer a similar fate if their stalwart protectors had any say on the matter.

"Your duty is to look north and watch for any signs of trouble. You spot anything, anything at all and you alert the lieutenant on duty."

"Aye sir."

The young man replied excitedly, eager to get his first assignment underway. The new guard was young, no more than seventeen or eighteen. A boy by all rights but in times of war boys much younger than him have been chosen to take up the call to defend their homelands in the past, now was no different.

"S-sir, is it true? About the dragons sir? I heard from some of the guys in the barracks that they came here with a queen with moon colored hair. They say she is the most beautiful woman in the world and can talk to dragons."

The old captain grunted in annoyance at the young recruit as he stroked his thick mustache.

"You'd best worry about what's out there, lad. War's coming and we need to be ready."

The young guardsmen set his jaw in admirable determination as he nodded with vigor.

"Yes sir!... Umm sir?... What's that?"

The young guard had spotted a single horse and rider approaching the closed city gates. The rider was hunched over in the saddle, little more than a mound of black on horseback. Loping along side the garon was a massive white wolf, bigger than any wolf the captain had ever seen.

"What in seven hells?..."

The captain said as he looked down over the stone wall. They noticed the arrows jutting out of the figure's back and the recruit gasped.

"Is that a corpse?"

The rider seemed eerily still until it weakly looked up with tired eyes to stare right at the captain. As if calling to him the wolf threw back his head and let loose a long sullen howl that chilled all in ear shot to the bone.

"Gods, he's alive! Get down there! Now!"

Jon felt their arms grasp him as he was pulled from the saddle. He was so weak he could barely keep his eyes open. His back burned in stinging pain from the two arrows lodged there. His leg had gone numb from the agony of the shaft in his thigh. If it wasn't for Ghost spurring the horse along he would have wandered off the road and no doubt fallen from his saddle days ago.

"Boy, what happened to you? Boy? Can you hear me?"

Jon blinked his eyes open, it was all he could muster to lift his eye lids. He gazed into the mustached face of a soldierly looking older man, in plate armor. Jon opened his mouth to speak but only weak groans came fourth. The guard pulled a water skin from his belt and dripped some clean, cool water into Jon's mouth. The water was finer than the richest wine to the young man from the North.

"Who are you boy?"

The older man asked once he pulled the water skin away. Jon forced himself to swallow, and took a breath before attempting to speak again.

"Stark.... my name.... my name is Stark."

His voice was little more than a whisper but it registered with the guard captain. His eyes shot wide in shock before he glanced at the white wolf or more correctly dire wolf with the striking red eyes. He knew who this boy was.

"Get this boy to the castle, now! Have the healers tend to him immediately and someone inform the princess. She'll want to know of this at once!"

The captain barked and his man sprang to action. Jon was carried onto a cart and wheeled to the castle while Ghost followed close by. The recruit had watched the entire scene unfold in awe and wonder.

"S-sir?... Whose Stark? Who is that?"

The captain turned to the young man, new to his command and his face showed the years of service under the banners of the South Atlantic.

"The Stark's are kings of The North. That boy is a prince of Winterfell, may be the only one left."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Amelia Targaryen Character Portrait: Davina Mikaelson Character Portrait: Jon Stark Character Portrait: Mira Alington Character Portrait: Dalila Malyns Character Portrait: Jasunr Alington Character Portrait: Kenna Caitlin Character Portrait: Ajax Alexander
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"What in the bloody hell is a God King?"

The mid-aged king asked in confusion as he poured his five glass of wine. Kenna sighed in a mixture of annoyance and frustration. She sat at the worn down old oval shaped mahogany table with her father sitting opposite from her. Pushing aside the now empty pitcher she couldn't help but roll her eyes as her father downed the sweet imported Galapagos City wine. He father and uncle never seemed to have a good word to say about one another but her father had to admit her uncle's city made the best wine in the world. "Father focus!", she spoke exasperated snatching the man's goblet out of his hand and slamming it down on the table.

Since taking the reins of the kingdom from her father the man hadn't been the same. The once noble king spent his days frolicking and whoring around with his mistress while drinking his weight in wine. Her father had been and still was a great king, but his greed and lust for greater power had lost the kingdom precious land and many invaluable lives. Lives that unlike their land could never be won back. When Kenna took control of the city and kingdom her father had not protested. He had shamed himself, his family, his city and his kingdom when like a coward he plotted and poisoned the ruling king and queen of Drake City. The city of Drake and it's people were once seen as allies and friends of the South Atlantic, but thanks to her father that had all been ruined.

"I don't much if anything about the man other than he possesses some form of magical capabilities and he sacked Labrador City." For the first time during their conversation her father actual took an interest in her words as his face expressed the worry and terror he suddenly felt. "The North has fallen?" The man spoke in disbelief as he took a moment to let the news sink in. The royal families of the South Atlantic and the North had been long time allies and friends. Kenna had practically been raised with the Stark children. "What of the Starks?", the king asked after a long moment of silence. "King Edmond was sent to the Kingdom of Valyrian by the usurper who sacked the city. He is very weak. I am not sure if the old king is going to survive the horrors of which he faced. As far as the rest of the Starks go ... I assume they are all dead."

Her father looked seconds away from tears when a hard knocking sounded on the wooden door disrupting the moment. Getting up from the table her father without a word he father retreated into the adjoined bathroom. "Enter." Opening the door a castle guard stand into the room, "I apologize for the intrusion princess but you are needed at once." Kenna sat in confusion and wonder as to what could be so important that someone would be sent to interrupt her meeting with her father. "What's wrong?", she asked standing up from the table. "A Stark has arrived at the castle. He is gravely injured but alive. Our healers are treating him but it doesn't look good." Kenna couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Locate lady Davina and my guests. Have them brought to me. I shall be with the injured Stark." Nodding the guard left to do as he'd been told. Kenna wondered if her father had heard any of what had been said. If he had he didn't speak on it as he didn't emerge from the bathroom. Leaving her father's chambers she went to see which Stark had made it to her home and how bad of shape they were in.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Amelia Targaryen Character Portrait: Davina Mikaelson Character Portrait: Jon Stark Character Portrait: Mira Alington Character Portrait: Dalila Malyns Character Portrait: Jasunr Alington Character Portrait: Kenna Caitlin Character Portrait: Ajax Alexander
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The three eyed raven flew up to perch on an old stone wolf, before the entrance to a crypt. Jon recognized the crypt well. It was at the base of Winterfell, he and his brothers had gone down there hundreds of times as children to hide and play. It was always so cold down there, colder than the rest of the keep. He could feel that cold again as the raven flew through the open doorway and led Jon down. Down and down, further and further he walked until all light was gone and he had only the flapping sounds of the raven's feathers and it's cawing to guide him. Finally he saw light up ahead. The simple orange glow of a burning torch. He neared it and pulled the sconce from the wall giving him command over the light. It flickered and turned blue, growing cold as a winter wind yet the light itself didn't fade. Jon could still see clearly where ever the icy light touched.

Down in the belly of Winterfell Jon looked upon the faces of all the great kings of winter, now long dead. Each tomb was crowned with a stone statue of the king buried within, at their feet was their great dire wolf, carved from stone as their masters to remain by their side in death as they did in life. Jon gazed upon the face of Bran The Builder, the first King of The North and builder of Winterfell. He looked upon King Rickard Stark who defeated the Marsh King in single combat and earned the crannogmens fealty. There was King Dorren Stark and King Eyron Stark, King Harlon Stark and King Walton the Moonking. Yet as Jon neared the end of the row of tombs where the most recent late kings lay resting there were three new tombs he did not recognize from his youth. One was of a young man, proud and strong with a full beard and fierce eyes. In his hand was a stone greatsword as long as Jon was tall. Jon stared up into his eyes and realized he did know this king, he knew him well. He'd played with him as a boy, fought with him and hunted with him. It was his eldest brother Brandon. Jon looked to the tomb to Brandon's right and there was his other brother Edrick. Edrick's face was carved with that impish smirk that made Edrick so well liked, never far from a laugh or a bawdy tale Edrick seemed to be looking down at Jon as if knowing a joke he had yet to fill Jon in on. Jon could feel the sadness welling up inside him so he turned to the last tomb.

This one was different, different from all the rest because this one was not a king. This tomb had a woman's statue crowning it. A beautiful woman with long flowing hair of curls that framed her lithe figure. She was young, barely a woman. Her eyes were sad and full of sorrow. It broke Jon's heart just to look upon her. The three eyed raven flew up to perch on her shoulder, its ancient eyes seemed to peer right through him.

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"Look! See!"

It cawed and Jon did as it commanded. He turned back to the stone woman with her sad eyes and began to recognize her as well. He remembered a time when he was young and she was crying. Caught in a tree and too afraid to come down. Jon had climbed up after her and sat with her for hours until she had calmed down. He remembered laughing in that tree as they joked and talked. By the time they had come down she had forgotten all about her fear. She hugged him that day, Jon had always made it a habit of keeping his distance from his kin given his curse but she hugged him anyway, she had told him he was her brother and that she was his sister and that she would never be afraid of him. Jon often thought Mira had helped him that day more than he helped her.

It was then Jon noticed he was crying. He wiped a tear from his cheek and looked back at his sister. Unlike all the buried Kings of Winter who were carved holding the weapons they carried in life, Mira's hand was open as if reaching for someone. Jon rose his hand to touch hers, he could feel the cold stone, smooth as the finest glass. Her stone eyes flicked down to look right at him.

"Remember."


Jon woke with a start, sitting up in bed his body immediately exploded in pain.

"Easy, prince! Easy, take it easy. You must take it slow or you'll tear your stitching.'

Jon clenched his teeth in pain but gently allowed the helping hands to ease him back down. Jon took several deep, steadying breaths before he opened his eyes. He was in a bedroom, finely furnished with exquisite tapestries hanging from the wall. Several scones with candles were hung and lit as well and a warm fire burned in the hearth. Ghost was curled up at the foot of Jon's bed, looking much like a great mound of white that was fast asleep. The windows were drawn with heavy curtains so the only light was what came from the fires burning within the room. He was laying on a fine feather bed easily big enough for four grown adults. He was draped with several layers of blankets and furs, many of which he'd sweated right through. There was fresh linen bindings around his upper chest and over his shoulder, no doubt to wrap his back where his wounds were. His right leg was uncovered by the blankets while a kind looking elderly man sat beside the bed dabbing some foul smelling substance to the wound.

"We've stymied the corruption, prince. We've cleaned and dressed your wounds and it looks like your fever is already breaking."

The old man said as he reached up and touched Jon's sweat beaded forehead with the back of his hand. The old man gave Jon a warm smile before turning back to his work of applying the healing salve to his thigh.

"Good thing too, I know the princess will want to speak with you if you're feeling strong enough."

"I'm feeling strong enough."

Jon replied firmly. The old healer gave a short chuckle deep in his throat at the young mans resolve.

"Oh to be young, I envy your tenacity.

"Don't envy it too much, tenacity get's you shot up with arrows apparently."

Jon said with a tired smile and a weak chuckle. The light laugh made his back hurt which in turn made it funnier in a sad pathetic way. The old healer chuckled as well and shook his head. He finished wrapping Jon's leg and covered it again with blankets.

"Rest now, the princess will be along soon."

With that the healer left Jon alone, with only the sleeping dire wolf for company. Jon stared at the ceiling as his mind began to drift back to the dream he'd just woken from and the people he'd just lost.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Amelia Targaryen Character Portrait: Davina Mikaelson Character Portrait: Jon Stark Character Portrait: Mira Alington Character Portrait: Dalila Malyns Character Portrait: Jasunr Alington Character Portrait: Kenna Caitlin Character Portrait: Ajax Alexander
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She walked through the halls of the castle until she came to the infirmary. One of the old healers was waiting outside the door when she arrived. "How is he?" she asked with a great deal of concern that was written over her face. The old man smiled at her, "The young Stark is very strong. He is fairly weak but considering he had several arrows sitting out of him when he arrived that is to be expected." Kenna breathed a sigh of relief as she was giving the good news. "So he is going to live?" she asked just needing to hear the words. "Yes princess, the Stark is going to live." She thanked the gods in her mind and smiled at the old healer, "You've done very well. I cannot thank you enough for saving his life." The healer gave a hearty chuckle,"I was only doing my job princess, but your gratitude means more than enough." She nodded in understanding before asking "Is he well enough for me to see him." Nodding he motioned to the door "He said he was feeling strong enough so do not let me stop you."Nodding once again she smiled thanking the man once more before entering the room.

Closing the door behind her when she turned to see the injured Stark was none other than Jon she couldn't hide the smile that spread across her face. "Jon." She spoke as she approached him slowly stopping at the edge of the bed. Looking down at the end of the bed she spotted a great mountain of white that moved up and down with every breathe the sleeping dire wolf took. She was happy to see that not only had Jon made it out of the ordeal alive but so had his faithful companion. "You look terrible." She said speaking the obvious as she looked back at him. "But your alive and that is all that matters." A knocked pounded on the door and before Kenna could mutter a word the door swung open and Davina entered with the others behind her. Looking at the twins of Apollo she asked "Could you heal him?" She had learnt that Apollo was the god of many things including that of healing. She knew Davina could heal Jon but that would require Jon drinking her blood and she wasn't sure Jon would consent to that.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Amelia Targaryen Character Portrait: Davina Mikaelson Character Portrait: Jon Stark Character Portrait: Mira Alington Character Portrait: Dalila Malyns Character Portrait: Jasunr Alington Character Portrait: Kenna Caitlin Character Portrait: Ajax Alexander
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Being led into the castle by Davina after Kenna's departure Mira was happy to be back in the South Atlantic Kingdom although she wished they had been able to stay in the Kingdom of Valyrian for awhile. Her first trip to the capital city of Valyria had been cut short by unforeseen events but she would go back and complete her stay there once all current enemies had been dealt with. In the dining hall they had been served delectable lemon cakes and lamprey pie with wine. With so many unexpected mouths to feed the kitchen became the busy place in the castle. The small group socialized with one another has they fed on the sweet deserts and fine wine. The laughter and talk came to an abrupt end as a castle guard interrupted them saying the princess requested all of their presence down in the infirmary.

Popping one last lemon cake into her mouth Mira followed behind the others as they were all escorted to the infirmary. Davina knocked and entered not even giving Kenna or the injured lad a chance to invite them in. "Could you heal him?" Kenna asked looking directly at her and her brother. Sharing a glance between siblings Jasunr nodded, "We are the children of Apollo. Of course we can." The healer had already patched up all of the man's wounds so Mira didn't need to so much as heal the man but speed up the process of the old healer's work. This is when the power of vitakinesis came into play.

ImageJust standing in the room with him she and her brother could sense the cause of the man's wounds and it surprised her that he had lived long enough to seek medical attention. Walking over to the bed she pulled back the blankets and furs that covered his body, "This won't hurt. I promise." She spoke before resting her hands on the boy's thigh. Taking a deep breath a tingly warm sensation ran through her body as her hands began to glow a yellow hue. She rested her hands on the injured thigh for a minute before running her hands up along the man thigh to his shoulder. Doing the same thing as with his thigh she pressed her hand on his injured shoulder wound letting her power do it's work. Lastly she eased the man forward and and pressed her hand on his wounded back.

When her hands stopped glowing she knew that the job was done. She slowly stripped the man of his bandages before smiling proudly "Good as new." His wounds were completely healed and she had even managed to leave him without the scarring that he would have had had he went through the long recovery. "Do yourself a favor and avoid arrows for a while." She said with a smirk before walking over to were her brother and the others stood. "So, just out of curiosity who is the boy I just save from weeks of bedridden boredom?"

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Amelia Targaryen Character Portrait: Davina Mikaelson Character Portrait: Jon Stark Character Portrait: Mira Alington Character Portrait: Dalila Malyns Character Portrait: Jasunr Alington Character Portrait: Kenna Caitlin Character Portrait: Ajax Alexander
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Jon had been laying in bed, staring at the ceiling. His back ached and his leg throbbed but those were paltry things when compared to the hurt in his heart. The memory of his mothers corpse as it lay brutalized on the cold stone floor. The memory of his sister's whimpering body in his arms as the last of her life left her. The news of his eldest brother's death in the first of the battles for The North and the discovery of his other brothers demise during the defense of Winterfell. The only member of his household left to him was a father that is said to have been tortured near to madness and is now across the sea in a country he could no sooner reach as he could grant life to those he'd lost. He was an orphan, no better than a bastard with no house or name. Ghost seemed to sense the storm brewing inside him and lifted his head to look at Jon. Those ancient looking red eyes, deep as mountain snow and red as the finest rubies. Jon reached out a hand and felt the soft white fur of Ghost's coat, taking comfort in the touch.

The door opened and in walked a princess. With soft waves of light brown hair falling about her body in smooth tresses with eyes that were warmer and softer than a spring sun Kenna Caitlin smiled at him. Jon had known Kenna since he was a boy, she had spent many a seasons in The North with his brothers and sister. Kenna had been the one to teach Mira how to wear her hair in the high braided fashion of the Southern Kingdoms, a style Mira had always adored. It was Kenna that proved to be the only quarry that was unattainable for Jon's charming older brother Edrick and even out rode Jon's eldest brother Brandon once when the children went on a forest ride. Jon had always seen Kenna as almost another sister, a connection he never realized was as important as it was now when he was left with no other family.

"Jon."

She said with a happy, relieved smile as she approached the edge of the bed. Ghost turned to her and licked her hand in greeting as Jon winced as he pushed himself up enough to press his back against the headboard.

"Your grace, you'll forgive me if I don't stand."

Jon said in a weak attempt to make light of his injuries.

"You look terrible. But you're alive and that is all that matters."

Jon tried to smile but the memories of all that he'd lost wouldn't allow him that.

"It isn't all that matters."

He replied somberly. Before Kenna could say another word there was a knock at the door and the door swung open. In stepped Davina, Kenna's oldest and must trusted friend, a friend to Jon and his family as well as the most powerful being Jon had ever met. Davina was a tribrid and the only one Jon had ever met or heard of. She was unbelievably powerful but fortunately she was no more evil or wicked as Kenna was and for that they were all very fortunate. Jon counted himself lucky to call her a friend. Davina wasn't alone. Along with her were five people Jon had never met. Two men, both warriors by the look of them. One was massive and thick with muscle, built more like a mountain than a man he towered over everyone in the room. The other had a proud, noble look to him and while he lacked the hulking mass of the giant he still had a soldiers build of finely honed muscle. The other three were all women. One had hair that was not black nor even raven colored but noirette and fine as silk with natural waves that framed her face. Another had eyes as blue and deep as the ocean with skin that was a fine bronze. The last woman drew Jon's gaze longer than all the rest. This ones hair was the color of the moon and her eyes were green and gleaming as polished emeralds.

Jon blinked and finally his gaze left the silver haired beauty as he heard Kenna speak to the two men and the dark haired woman.

"Could you heal him?"

She asked and the soldier answered.

"We are the children of Apollo. Of course we can."

The woman stepped forward and pulled the furs and blankets from the bed, exposing Jon's ravaged body. Tended to or not he was horribly bruised and sporting countless cuts but it was the deep crimson stains seeping through the fresh linen bandages that made him look near a corpse.

"This won't hurt. I promise."

She said kindly as her hands reached out to touch his thigh. Even from the light touch of the woman's delicate hands Jon grimaced in discomfort. His leg burned with stinging pain but he said not a word of protest. She took a long, slow breath and her hands began to glow. Dimly at first the light grew brighter and brighter until her hands seemed to be made of golden light. Jon felt warmth spread through him, radiating from his leg up through his entire body. It was soothing and therapeutic and within mere moments all the pain was gone. The flesh knit itself together miraculously under her touch as if it had never been marred in the first place. She repeated the process on Jon's shoulder and back before her hands returned to normal. She removed Jon's bandages and gave him a warm smile.

"Good as new. Do yourself a favor and avoid arrows for a while."

Her smirk was infectious and Jon couldn't help but smile back.

"I'll do my best."

She walked back over to the two men before addressing the others in the room.

"So, just out of curiosity who is the boy I just save from weeks of bedridden boredom?"

Jon tested his newly healed body as he swung his legs over to let his feet drop to the floor. No pain in his leg at all, if anything it felt better than it did before. He rose from the bed and savored the strength that filled him now. He pulled on his leather breeches and slipped his shirt and black leather jerkin on before he answered for Kenna.

"My name is Jon Stark. My father is Edmond Stark, King of The North."

Jon fastened the buckle of his jerkin shut and reached for his sword belt. He strapped Longclaw to his hip before continuing.

"I'm the last son of Winterfell."

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Character Portrait: Amelia Targaryen Character Portrait: Davina Mikaelson Character Portrait: Jon Stark Character Portrait: Mira Alington Character Portrait: Dalila Malyns Character Portrait: Jasunr Alington Character Portrait: Kenna Caitlin Character Portrait: Ajax Alexander
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Sending the castle along with the entire kingdom into a state of high alert the castle guards disbanded with purpose. Kenna having much to discuss with her father the king left lady Davina to host her guests as she departed. The dragons feeling at ease and that the threat to their mother had passed took their leave as one by one they flapped their wings and ascended into the air. "Food or drink anyone?" Calling back Amelia's attention she smiled as she and the others were lead into the castle for wine and food.

Once they had all been seated the servants of the kitchen brought out lemon cakes, lamprey pie and wine from the city of Galapagos. Amelia favored wine from Galapagos City. The exotic wines tasted like no other wine she had ever tasted and ever since first drinking it in Qarth she would drink nothing but if given the choice. There was still much to be figured out and planned but for the time being the six highborns just sat talking and laughing amongst themselves. The armies of the her kingdom and the Kingdom of Tripartite were being sent to assist Kenna's men and this coming war. All that could be done for now was to await the arrival of the men so they could go to the North and put the "Godking's" head on a spike.

It wasn't long before chaos sprung yet again as a castle guard came to them in the dining hall and said that Kenna requested their presence. Not to keep the princess waiting they all abandoned their food and drinks and went to the infirmary where Kenna awaited them. When they entered the room the first thing Amelia noticed was the large direwolf in the room. It's pelt was as white as fresh snow with blood diamond red eyes. It was a beauty.

As Mira stepped forward to heal the injured man Amelia watched with curiosity. She knew that all the half-gods had special abilities just as Davina had but she had never witnessed their magic. She watched as Mira's hand became brighter and brighter glowing in a golden yellow hue. The daughter of the sun traced her hands up the man's body going over his wounds. In minutes she rendered herself done and stripped the man of his bandages. Completely healed looking at him now you would never know that just a mere few hours ago he'd been staring death in the face.

As he stood and dressed himself Amelia felt herself staring but couldn't make herself look away. A handsome man with a strong body that came from years dutiful training and dedication. His hair dark as obsidian and mysterious eyes to match Amelia had never felt this sort of attraction to another being before. Even her late husband who her brother had stoled her to in the promise of one day winning his crown she had not initially been attracted to. In fact she had been filled of fear when she had first laid eyes on her sun and stars. Whether that had so much been because of the hulking giant who eyes seemed to pierce through her or the thought of what her brother would have done to her had Drogo not taken her she didn't know.

"My name is Jon Stark. My father is Edmond Stark, King of The North. I'm the last son of Winterfell."

His words broke her out of the trance and she was suddenly filled with sadness as images of King Edmond flashed through her mind. The twins, Dalila and Davina had all offered to heal the man before they left Valyria as the man was in dire condition. Despite their pleas the old king had refused their help and while it had pained them they had respected his decision. Everything the old king had been through had made his heart heavy with sadness and guilt. He thought his whole family dead, he had been overthrown and his city taken by an cruel bastard who thought himself a god when in truth was the devil. Even as she had promised Edmond that she would help him take back his throne she knew that old man had given up on everything including his own life. As she was leaving Ser Jorah had pulled her aside and told her what she already knew. The old king would not make it.

Now here she stood with the king's living heir and she wished that the old king knew of his son's survival. For maybe if he did it would have been enough to make him want to hold on and fight.

"I am Amelia Targaryen. Queen of the Kingdom of Valyrian. The usurper who sacked your home sent your father to me. Your father told me as well as the others of what happened to him, your family and your people. I make you the same promise as I did your father. The self-proclaimed godking shall pay for what he did. They all will." The very thought of the man made the fire in her veins stir and burn hotter. She wouldn't be able to return King Edmond to his home but with his son there was a chance. She was the last Targaryen and Jon the last Stark. Just as she had reclaimed her home she would make sure that he would do the same.

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Character Portrait: Amelia Targaryen Character Portrait: Davina Mikaelson Character Portrait: Jon Stark Character Portrait: Mira Alington Character Portrait: Dalila Malyns Character Portrait: Jasunr Alington Character Portrait: Kenna Caitlin Character Portrait: Ajax Alexander
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"I am Amelia Targaryen. Queen of the Kingdom of Valyrian."

Man and wolf seemed to turn in unison as the silver haired queen spoke, the first of the unfamiliar royals to do so. Ghost rose from the bed to bound to the floor beside the Stark who'd found him when he was just a pup. The great dire wolf with its fur white as winter snow seemed to stare at the woman as if she'd addressed him directly.

"The usurper who sacked your home sent your father to me. Your father told me as well as the others of what happened to him, your family and your people."

Jon looked into those emerald crystals of hers and wondered just what his father did tell her. Did he tell her of the fear in the keep after the news of Brandon's death? Did he say how Jon had caught him comforting his weeping mother the day before the battle? Was it the suddenness of the attack he told her of and how quickly the Khalidorian's overwhelmed Winterfell's unready defenses? Did he mention of how Edrick died atop the battlements commanding the castles defenders? Did he tell her about Mira or mother? Did he know? Jon had been the only one there to bear witness to the aftermath of what Wanhope's men did to them. He remembered the battered body of the corpse that was once his mother, once the woman who sung him to sleep and held him when he was frightened. Her clothes were strewn about her in tatters and her body was so badly beaten she was almost unrecognizable. His sister they had been gentler with if one could call it that. Her lip was bruised and bleeding but beyond that they hadn't marred her. Her cheeks were stained with fresh tears and her hair was astray. Her clothing was no where to be found. She had been clutching her stomach in pain from the stab wound. Jon had covered her in his cloak and held her until she died. He could still feel her body trembling in pain and shaking from her sobs.

"I make you the same promise as I did your father. The self-proclaimed godking shall pay for what he did. They all will."

Amelia's voice pulled Jon from his mind horrible memories. Her voice was full of fire and promised blood. He could hear it in her words, see it in her eyes. Perhaps Wanhope's warning had effected her but not in the way he may have hoped. If he'd desired to frighten her, to weaken her resolve he failed. Jon looked now onto a woman who was resigned to see justice done and if rumor was correct she had three living dragons to see the thing done. Yet while her fires burned hot there was a cold inside Jon, an ice that was growing and cooling his veins. Like a chill wind, frigid as the grave and twice as foreboding. A cold that called for vengeance and a cold that would not end until justice was done.

Jon nodded slowly as he stepped toward her, his eyes, black as a starless night sky and hers, shinning like the finest of emeralds locked onto one another. Two children of murdered families, one of fire and one of ice. He nodded slowly in agreement, Wanhope had just indebted himself to House Stark in a deal for blood. As lightning gave way to thunder so to must murder lead to vengeance, and Jon would have his vengeance.

"Thank you, Queen Amelia."

Jon said gruffly, the grief was still too raw for him to say much more. He gave her a subtle nod and weak smile to show his gratitude.

"My father... is he alive?"

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Character Portrait: Amelia Targaryen Character Portrait: Davina Mikaelson Character Portrait: Jon Stark Character Portrait: Mira Alington Character Portrait: Dalila Malyns Character Portrait: Jasunr Alington Character Portrait: Kenna Caitlin Character Portrait: Ajax Alexander
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"We are the children of Apollo. Of course we can."

Kenna breathed a sigh of relief smiling as Mira stepped forward to heal the last Stark.

"This won't hurt. I promise."

She heard Mira say before laying her hands on Jon's thigh. Kenna watched attentively as the Mira took a deep breath before her hands slowly began to glow. The golden hue shined brighter and brighter before Mira began to slowly run her hands over Jon's injured frame. What took only moments felt like hours as Kenna hadn't realized she was holding her breath throughout the course of the entire healing process. When the light of Mira's hands began to fade Kenna knew it was done. Carefully Mira undid Jon's bandages and when the wraps had all been removed Kenna was amazed. She had expected there to be some scarring or some kind of evidence of Jon's previous wounds but there was none.

"Good as new. Do yourself a favor and avoid arrows for a while." Mira said jokingly as she rejoined her family.

"I'll do my best." Jon said with a smile that made Kenna smile. He was really okay.

"So, just out of curiosity who is the boy I just save from weeks of bedridden boredom?" Before she could respond to Mira's question Jon answered for her.

"My name is Jon Stark. My father is Edmond Stark, King of The North. I'm the last son of Winterfell."

"I am Amelia Targaryen. Queen of the Kingdom of Valyrian. The usurper who sacked your home sent your father to me. Your father told me as well as the others of what happened to him, your family and your people. I make you the same promise as I did your father. The self-proclaimed godking shall pay for what he did. They all will."

As Amelia spoke you could sense the burning fire behind her words. Amelia had once been almost exactly in the same position Jon now found himself in. Home over taken by usurper's who truly had no claim to the land of which they took. Being the last surviving member of a dynasty. This was personal to Amelia and Kenna knew that. This was personal to all of them for one reason or another. Jon thanked Amelia giving the Silver Queen a weak smile and a subtle nod.

"My father... is he alive?" Kenna had known this question was coming.

He was alive when we left but .... the odds aren't in his favor. Your father has given up Jon. They offered to heal him just as Mira did for you but he refused all offers. Your father has lost his city. He thought his family all dead. He has no desire or will to fight. Am sorry Jon but if your father hasn't taken his last breath yet he will before we could get word to him of your survival."

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Character Portrait: Amelia Targaryen Character Portrait: Davina Mikaelson Character Portrait: Jon Stark Character Portrait: Mira Alington Character Portrait: Dalila Malyns Character Portrait: Jasunr Alington Character Portrait: Kenna Caitlin Character Portrait: Ajax Alexander
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"He was alive when we left but .... the odds aren't in his favor. Your father has given up Jon. They offered to heal him just as Mira did for you but he refused all offers. Your father has lost his city. He thought his family all dead. He has no desire or will to fight. Am sorry Jon but if your father hasn't taken his last breath yet he will before we could get word to him of your survival."

Jon turned from Amelia to Kenna as she spoke. The news wasn't something he wasn't expecting but that didn't make it any easier. His mother was dead, and his sister and both of his brothers. Only his father remained yet even him now Wanhope stole from him, yet this death ached in a way the others didn't. Perhaps it was the hope that he was alive and alright, the hope that they would be reunited. Jon had heard his father's bannerman Roose Bolton once say that there was no true despair without hope. Perhaps this is what he meant. The hope that fills someone, gives them the belief that things will be better can be dashed in an instant and that is when despair invades and consumes them.

Jon nodded slowly in understanding as Ghost whimpered at his side.

"I'd heard once that broken men are dead men whose bodies don't know it yet..."

Jon took a moment to process the added death of his father to all the rest.

"So my father is dead too then. That's another life Wanhope owes me, pity he can only pay his debt with but the one."

Jon addressed the room with a seething hate as he uttered the murderers name. In reflection to Jon's hatred Ghost snarled viciously at the mention of Wanhope as if the dire wolf as well understood and loathed the very mention of the supposed god kings name. Jon reached out a calming hand that grasped the fur in the back of the great beasts neck, the thick white fur bristled under his touch but calmed even if the blood thirst only cooled somewhat.

"A great injustice has been done to my family. Wanhope's invaded the lands my house has ruled for thousands of years. He butchered both brothers, tortured and caused the death of my father.... And my mother and sister..."

Jon lost his voice as the grief seized his heart. Sorrow mixed with anguish and anguish twisted into anger. Jon clenched his jaw and his fist in reflex.

"He has to die. So how do we do it?"

Jon asked hungry to seek vengeance.

As the room full of royals discussed the best course of action the sun began to set and for the first time in thousands of years, far in The North, there was no Stark in Winterfell. There were foreigners, walking it's walls and dining at it's tables. Foreigners slept in it's beds and sat before it's hearth's. Deep in the Wolfswood a howl went out, an angry howl of wild hatred and hunger. Then another, and another. Soon the whole of forest was singing for blood in a ghostly chorus. The invaders listened and listened well. Despite their fearlessness in battle, their strength and their might every one of them felt a little colder that night and found sleep illusive to them. The North didn't want them there. They made The North bleed and The North would make them bleed in return.

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Character Portrait: Amelia Targaryen Character Portrait: Davina Mikaelson Character Portrait: Jon Stark Character Portrait: Mira Alington Character Portrait: Dalila Malyns Character Portrait: Jasunr Alington Character Portrait: Kenna Caitlin Character Portrait: Ajax Alexander
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They had sat in the infirmary for hours upon hours discussing plans of what was next to come late into the night and early morning. By the time they had called it a night they were all well deserving of needed rest. Forces from the Kingdom of Tripartite would arrive by morning and the men of Valyrian a day later. Kenna still hadn't yet received word from her uncle but was confident that he would help fight in the coming war. She had told them that during her meeting with her father her father told her that Atlantia had put up a blockage in the ocean disrupting Galapagos City trade. Obviously, the king of Galapagos had his hands full with concerns of his own. Retreating to her chambers for the night Amelia mind was swarming with thoughts and schemes. While she was determined to win this war she knew that Wanhope wasn't coming into this war alone. Jasunr vision showed this much when he saw the pirate ship and the fact that the Drake King was seen rallying allies to his side she knew without a doubt that they would be allies in this war. As she slept on this night she also dreamt.

The sea was lapping all around Winterfell. She saw black waves crashing against the gates and towers, and then the salt water came flowing over the walls and filled the castle. Drowned men were floating in the yard. She couldn't see faces only bodies. Suddenly she dream darkened until she saw nothing. “To go north, you must journey south. To reach the west, you must go east. To go forward, you must go back. To touch the light you must pass beneath the shadow.” “Rhaegar?”Amelia called. “Where are you, Rhaegar?” Then she saw him. Her brother was tall and handsome, having the same emerald green eyes as hers and the silver hair of the Targaryens, worn long. “Remember who you are, Amelia. The dragons know. Do you?” He disappeared just as fast as he had appeared. Than there was only her and the dragon. Its scales were black as night, wet and slick with blood. Her blood, Amelia sensed. Its eyes were pools of molten magma, and when it opened its mouth, the flame came roaring out in a hot jet. She could hear it singing to her. She opened her arms to the fire, embraced it, let it swallow her whole, let it cleanse her and temper her and scour her clean. She could feel her flesh sear and blacken and slough away, could feel her blood boil and turn to steam, and yet there was no pain. She felt strong and new and fierce.

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Character Portrait: Jon Stark
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Jon stood amidst a courtyard littered with bodies. Bodies of friends and bodies of men he'd never met. North Men and foreigners all lay dead around him. Jon could smell the smoke from the fire burning in Winterfell's southern tower. The night was dark and the sight and scent of death was strong. Yet the air was still and silent as a crypt. Not a sound broke the silence for what seemed like an eternity. He seemed frozen to that spot, forced to stand vigil over the ruins of his home until the scream echoed from the keep. A woman's scream, then a second followed by pain filled sobs. His mother and sister were calling to him, begging him to save them. He ran to them as fast as he could. He moved through the courtyard filled with corpses as quick as he could. Yet the distance seemed to grow for every step he took. After what seemed like hours his legs burned and his lungs ached but he would not stop. The screams grew louder as if he was nearing them but he was no closer to the door to the grey keep than when he started. A dead hand grasped his leg and he fell into the bloody dirt. Jon groaned in pain and frustration as he pushed himself to his feet but when he did the courtyard was gone and the screams had stopped.

He was in the Godswood, just outside of Winterfell's great walls. The sun hung in the sky, it could not be much past mid day. Jon was so confused as he looked about wondering where the Khalidorian's went, where his mother and sister had gone. He called out for them but his voice made no sound. He heard the flutter of feathers behind him and he turned to see a single raven perched on the branch of a weirwood tree.


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"Remember!"

Jon woke in a cold sweat. His breaths were coming out in ragged gasps as his chest heaved in exertion. Ghost whimpered nervously as the great beast paced beside the bed. Jon took several long moments to collect his scattered thoughts before he turned to him. He reached out a hand and the dire wolf licked his hand in worry. Jon forced himself to slow his breathing before he got out of bed. He would find no rest, not here, not at all. Not until justice had been done. Jon walked to the window and looked out onto the empty courtyard of the castle. Not a soul stirred at this hour. Jon's mind was consumed with loss and a hunger for vengeance. He could not sleep while Wanhope rested easy in the bed his father slept in and his father before him. Jon's mind began to urge him to action, the semblance of a plan took shape. Jon turned around and looked at Ghost who just looked up at him with those blood ruby eyes. The dire wolf stared back at Jon knowingly as if he knew what Jon had decided before he had even decided it.

Jon dressed quickly and strapped Longclaw to his hip before pulling his cloak over his shoulder and stepping out into the hall. The castle was quiet and all were asleep as best as Jon could tell. It was better this way. The other royals were set on a war. An invasion of The North to route Wanhope out and bring him to justice. Jon couldn't wait for that. He had no time for armies and battle plans. He wanted justice, his family deserved justice. He made his way down the hall and past the doors of the other sleeping guests before sneaking down the stairs and outside. Ghost padded along beside him silently as Jon moved, loping out ahead as Jon headed for the stables. The nearest pony snorted uneasily at the wolf's approach but Jon quieted it down quickly, for fear of waking a curious stable boy. Jon grabbed a saddle and set to strapping it to the horses back. He would go home tonight, he would ride north and take Wanhope's head for what he'd done.

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Character Portrait: Amelia Targaryen Character Portrait: Jon Stark
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The night sky was dark and clear. Absent of any stars with just the glow of the moon giving off any light. Dragon dreams. Dragon dreams appear to have haunted those with the blood of the dragon throughout the generations; some more than others. The Targaryens were well known for their premonition-like dream ability - for their dreams were no ordinary dreams. She had the dragon dream more than once in her life. Amelia had dragon dreams proceeding to the birth of her three dragons. She dreamt of a black dragon prior to her wedding day. Newly wedded, when she was in despair on the Dothraki Sea, and feeling that she couldn't go on, she dreams of a black dragon again. She also dreamt of the black dragon the night before she sacked the city of Astapor. Only after the events meant to happen had happened did she ever truly understand the meaning behind what it was she dreamt. Now would be no different.

ImageDeciding it was time for her to return to her bed Amelia exited the balcony as she walked across the room to her bed. As she was about to climb into bed she heard and saw the shadow of footsteps moving past her door. Walking to the door she quietly opened it enough for her to peek her head out into the hall and caught the glimpse of a shadowed that looked like a big dog .. or wolf. The thought of Jon's dire wolf immediately popped into her mind and she knew exactly what was going on. She had worn a simple robe to bed and was definitely not dressed to be going outside but if she tried to change now she would lose both man and wolf.

Without even giving it a second thought she left her chambers and went after the vengeful Stark. She understood why he was doing what he was doing but the fact of the matter was no one man could kill an entire army. Even if he was did prove successful in what to her was a suicide mission he would never get out of Winterfell alive after the deed was done. Than the last living Stark would be dead and while Wanhope would be dead Jon's people would be forever lost without a Stark to lead them. The ground was cold and somewhat moist as the walked barefooted across the dirt of the stables. She knew of what the Stark was planning and that if he wanted to reach home he would be need of a horse.

"Jon", she called out to him as she found him strapping a saddle to the back of a pony. 'I know what you are planning to do and if you go down this path you will not make it out alive." She spoke as she walked closer to man and wolf but stopped as Ghost's blood red eyes fell upon her. She kept her distance not wishing to make the wolf turn on her. "Let us help you Jon. I know you want justice and revenge and we all want that for you. We just want you to still be alive once you've gotten it." She prayed that Jon would hear her words and listening to her. If there was one person in this godforsaken world that understood what it was he was going through it was her. While it was a different set of circumstances that had put each of them on their paths, Amelia had once found herself in the very same position he was in now. She knew what it felt like to lust for vengeance and because of that knew that in lust one's mind was clouded to judgement. "Don't do not do this Jon."

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Character Portrait: Amelia Targaryen Character Portrait: Jon Stark
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Jon Stark had been struggling with the saddle's straps in the moonlight when he heard Ghost whimper at his side. Jon turned expecting a guard or a stable hand or anything but what he bore witness to. A vision wreathed in silver, with gleaming emerald eyes that seemed compassionate and sad. Robed in naught but a bed slip Jon could not help but stare at angelic beauty as the queen of Valyrian stood before him in the pale moonlight.

"Jon, I know what you are planning to do and if you go down this path you will not make it out alive."

Jon paused for a moment, sighing in frustration under his breath. She wanted to help him, chances were they all did. Every royal here gathered was a friend to peace and champions to justice in their own right. But they didn't understand, they couldn't understand. None of them could. What he'd suffered, what he'd witnessed would not allow anything other than blood for blood. Wanhope owed him a debt and Jon was going to collect.

"Let us help you Jon. I know you want justice and revenge and we all want that for you. We just want you to still be alive once you've gotten it. Do not do this Jon."

Her voice was soft yet resolute in her compassion for him. Her intentions may have been noble but she didn't understand anymore than the rest of them. She had taken a step forward but one look from Ghost warned her not to take another. Jon set his jaw in annoyance and frustration but turned to her regardless.

"Do you think I care if I live or die? Do you think that matters to me anymore?"

Jon glared at her with eyes full of a child's anger and a siblings loss. He walked toward her, fist clenched with his heart in his throat as he spoke.

"Wanhope murdered my brothers... both of them. He set his men to raping and murdering my mother and sister, a little girl! He tortured my father near to madness and sent him off to you as a warning before he too died. I see them every time I close my eyes, hear their screams in my head."

Jon was angry, so angry. He'd never felt anguish like this before and that anguish had unlocked an rage inside he didn't know he had. He hurt all the time and the only thing that gave him any semblance of peace, any hint of respite was imagining killed Wanhope. It was as if his anger made him strong as long as the pain was there but the minute he'd try to tend to his pain he'd just shatter into a million pieces. Jon walked up to Amelia and stood before her. The air around them seemed alive and powerful. As if if two great forces were meeting and their presence was touching, testing one another. One of cold the other of indomitable heat.

"I'm going to ride North, I'm going to go to Winterfell and I'm going to put a sword through Wanhopes throat. My family deserves justice, I am going to give them justice. If you want to help me, don't try and stop me."

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"Do you think I care if I live or die? Do you think that matters to me anymore?"

The glare in his eyes as he walked towards her with clenched fist was one of pain, grief and anger all wrapped into one.

"Wanhope murdered my brothers... both of them. He set his men to raping and murdering my mother and sister, a little girl! He tortured my father near to madness and sent him off to you as a warning before he too died. I see them every time I close my eyes, hear their screams in my head."

The more he spoke the more the wrath burning and twisting inside him consumed him. Everything he spoke about and felt was something that while she herself hadn't endured she could empathize with. When the maegi Mirri Maz Duur had used her magic to take her sun and stars away from her. Weeping, Amelia had smothered Drogo with a pillow to end his misery. As revenge for what the magei had done Amelia had had the woman tied to Drogo's funeral pyre and let her burn alive. So she understood everything that Jon felt but she still would not let him go down this path.

"I'm going to ride North, I'm going to go to Winterfell and I'm going to put a sword through Wanhopes throat. My family deserves justice, I am going to give them justice. If you want to help me, don't try and stop me."

"Your family deserves justice and will have justice but not on this night. Do you really think that this is all about you. This war may be starting because of what Wanhope did to your family but it is not just about your family and what they deserve. This is about Winterfell Jon. Not the Starks of Winterfell but of the North as a whole. Your city has been burned, your men lay slaughter, your woman have been beaten and raped and the children lay scared and crying if they haven't already been butchered and killed like their fathers."

The fire inside of her stirred and blazed hotter as there was no way in the seven hells she was going to let Jon throw his life away when there were so many people who now needed him. Amelia knew what it was like to crave vengeance and justice but she also knew that in matters such as this patience was a virtue. She may not have had to wait to her revenge against Mirri Maz Durr but it had taken her four years after Viserys death to exact vengeance on the usurpers who had overthrown and slaughtered their family. Was it going to take as long for Jon to do the same, she didn't know but the one thing she did know was that if he wanted this he would need to be patient and let those around him who wished to help him help him.

"Jon you are the last Stark of Winterfell. If you go out there and get yourself killed that will be the end of the Stark line. Your family will be nothing more than a once powerful name, a soon distance memory and a page in some man's history book. You are now the sole heir to your father's throne and the only Stark capable of saving the North. If you aren't going to live for yourself than do so for the people who need you."

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Character Portrait: Amelia Targaryen Character Portrait: Jon Stark
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"Your family deserves justice and will have justice but not on this night. Do you really think that this is all about you?"

Her words stung deep. Jon was eleven years old again and The Halfhand was shouting at him in the woods, calling him a fool boy. He felt ashamed and angry, not wanting to be berated for what he felt was the right decision.

"About me?! Wanhope-"

"This war may be starting because of what Wanhope did to your family but it is not just about your family and what they deserve. This is about Winterfell Jon. Not the Starks of Winterfell but of the North as a whole."

She cut him off, disinterested in his childish complaints. The fire he'd seen in her when he'd woken up had grown and was blazing bright. She was fierce, she was beautiful and strong. Jon stood in awe of her passion and felt wholly foolish and ashamed of himself. She was right. His father knew that but he didn't, the fool boy who wanted to play at hero. Edmond Stark was now being called The King Who Knelt all around the world. Some saw that as slight, a weak name for a weak king but Jon knew better. Edmond Stark did not bend the knee out of fear, he did it for mercy. He wanted to protect his family, he wanted to protect his home and the people who lived within it. Even in death his father was still teaching Jon, odd that it took a foreign beauty to show Jon that.

"Your city has been burned, your men lay slaughter, your woman have been beaten and raped and the children lay scared and crying if they haven't already been butchered and killed like their fathers."

Winterfell was his home, he'd lived there since his birth. He knew every stone, every tree in it's Godswood and every name of every soul living with it. There was Mikken the Blacksmith, Ser Rodrick Cassel and his daughter Beth, she had honey hair. He remembered Old Nan with her stories and Measter Luwin with his wise council and the kind giant Hodor. There was Farlen, Palla and so many others. So many men and women and children. All dead or enslaved or scattered. Their home gone, their lives torn asunder.

"Jon you are the last Stark of Winterfell. If you go out there and get yourself killed that will be the end of the Stark line. Your family will be nothing more than a once powerful name, a soon distance memory and a page in some man's history book. You are now the sole heir to your father's throne and the only Stark capable of saving the North. If you aren't going to live for yourself than do so for the people who need you."

Jon was silent, his gaze fell away from Amelia's no longer able to look her in the eye. How wrong had he been, how close he'd come to throwing everything a way for a boys snap decision. He could hear his father's words in his head, "You are a Stark of Winterfell, you know our words."

"Winter is Coming."

Jon muttered almost to himself more than to Amelia. Jons eyes rose slowly, weakly and full of sorrow.
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"Our words... Winter is Coming. My family have held these words since the age of heroes. They have ruled as Kings in The North for centuries. The first Stark, Bran The Builder fought the White Walkers along side the Children of the Forest during The Long Night. He erected the Grey Keep of Winterfell. My family unified The North and have guarded it for generations. Then He came... He led his men out of the darkness to come for us all. In what felt like a single night he'd undone all my family has accomplished and worked towards for thousands of years... He burned Winterfell, butchered it's people, torched it's hold fasts. I can still feel the heat from those fires, I can feel them on my face. The screams are as loud now as they were when I was there.... And I would have thrown away my country's only chance at salvation on a fools gambit. A childs dream. I'd forgotten our words, Winter is Coming. "

Jon paused to look down at the massive dire wolf at his side. Even now Ghost was beside him, ready to fight and die at his side. Jon reached out a hand and ran his fingers through the white coat of the beast.

"Our words serve as a reminder of our beginnings in the wake of the Long Night and of the grim importance of things to come. They are meant to ensure we remember our past and what we'd suffered before and what hardships await us when the snow begins to fall. They teach us to rely on one another, to protect each other. When the snows fall and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies but the pack survives. My father taught me that, I thought my pack was gone but..."

Jon stared into those captivating eyes of the Valyrian Queen. The fire inside her seemed warm to him now, inviting. Like a hearthfire in Winterfell's great hall. He couldn't even remember why he had been angry with her moments ago. What a fool he'd been. He truly knew nothing.

"I guess I was wrong."

Jon smiled, a small one but a smile none the less. He turned from her and walked back to the horse. He took hold of the saddle and let his hands rest on the leather a moment before resigning himself to his decision and pulling the saddle from the pony and resting it on the rack with the others. Jon walked across the courtyard and paused beside her once more.

"Thank you Amelia."

With that he left her in the moonlight, the heroine who'd saved his life, his family's legacy and his country's people all in one fell swoop. Jon had almost exited the courtyard when he noticed Ghost wasn't beside him. He turned back to see the white dire wolf was still there, standing before Amelia Targaryen. He was just staring up at her with those ancient ruby eyes. The beast made no sound, just held her in his eyes.

"Ghost?..."

Jon asked. The wolf stood before her a moment longer before bowed his head and walked past her towards Jon. Ghost pawed his way past Jon and up the steps. Jon watched as the wolf ascended the stairs and vanished into the hall. He looked back Amelia curiously. Ghost had never behaved that way before, it was certainly odd. There was something about that woman, something he couldn't quite put his finger on. Ghost felt it and Jon as beginning to feel it too. He bid her goodnight and returned to his room. Jon disrobed and collapsed in bed. His mind turned over on itself but he found sleep and with sleep, he found dreams. Yet these dreams were unlike any he'd had before.

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The sun touched Jon's face and he groaned in protest. He rolled over, giving the sun his back defiantly but the movement alerted Ghost to his awakening and the hungry wolf seized the opportunity. Ghost bounded onto the bed and began licking Jon's face with a whimper. Jon cursed and tried to push the beast away but Ghost was no pup and was not about to be swatted away like one. Jon tried to stifle his chuckle mixed with frustration but failed utterly as the whimpering wolf kept at it until his master was wide awake.

"Alright, I'm up. Get off, you."

Jon mumbled as he sat up. Ghost jumped off the bed happily and began scratching at the door. He was hungry. Ghost hadn't hunted last night at all. He'd spent the entire time pushing the horse so Jon wouldn't die. He must be famished. Jon got out of bed and stumbled his way through his sleepy daze to the door, unlatched it and let the beast out. Ghost bounded down the hall and was out of the castle in moments to go rushing off into the woods looking for prey. Jon sighed once Ghost was gone and walked back to his bed. He allowed his body to fall back onto the feather bed and soft, linen sheets wanting nothing more than to become one with the mattress. As he lay there, staring at the ceiling his mind drifted back to the dream he'd had last night, the second dream, after Amelia had convinced him to stay.

It was unlike any dream he'd ever had. Usually his green dreams had him following some path or, more frequently these days, the three eyed raven but always alone. He'd ever only had the raven for company with it's incessant, cryptic cawing. Yet this one was not like the others. This one Jon had a partner. Amelia Targaryen walked with him through the dream. Through everything that played out before his eyes she was there, urging him forward, supporting him and reassuring him with a smile or a touch. He felt warm with her near, he felt strong and hopeful. It was an almost dizzying sensation being near her as they walked through his dream world. They walked through Winterfell, both the old and the new. They walked through a distant lands of endless red sand and arrived a massive walled city with thirteen garishly dressed strangers standing before it's gates. They walked through a frozen wasteland, white as far as the eye could see. They moved through a great windowless tower where ancient magic lurked. The last place they went was a throne room, one that was foreign to Jon's eyes. A massive throne forged of melted swords was positioned at the rooms helm with a commanding view. Jon remembered Amelia taking his hand and leading him to it.

The morning sun had torn him from what was coming next. Jon ran his fingers through his charcoal colored hair and pushed himself up and out of bed. He dressed and headed down the castle stairs. As he made his way through Kenna's home her staff, and courtiers all greeted him politely and with all due respects. Jon would've rather been invisible, he didn't feel much like talking to anyone, least of all nobility he knew little of. With out much trouble he made it to the kitchens where he broke his fast on oats with barley and nuts, berries, some freshly cut ham and a boiled egg. He washed it all down with cow's milk and headed out into the courtyard. He'd noticed archery butts out there last night and figured he'd busy his mind and his hands with some ranged training while the castle woke.

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Character Portrait: Amelia Targaryen Character Portrait: Davina Mikaelson Character Portrait: Jon Stark Character Portrait: Mira Alington Character Portrait: Godking Wanhope Character Portrait: Dalila Malyns Character Portrait: Jasunr Alington Character Portrait: Kenna Caitlin Character Portrait: Ajax Alexander Character Portrait: Sylvia the Dark Oracle Character Portrait: Moloch Markus Character Portrait: Ariana of Atlantia
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She was standing outside of the Atlantean palace. Two men stood in front of as a guard ran up to the palace gates. "Tell Queen Ariana that Godking Wanehope and King Moloch of Drake City are here for an audience with her." Queen Ariana? Godking Wanehope? King Moloch? Reaching out her hand she attempted to touch the Drake King but her hand went right through him. Am dreaming she thought as the guard responded as any guard should questioning the men that appeared out of nothing and wished to see his queen. In response to this the Godking raised his hand and it began to surge with electricity. "I do not need protection. Now go tell your queen of our arrival before I decide that I do not need permission from her guards to enter." Fuck the gods! Not only is he a pompous ass but he holds power like that of Ajax. Just what this world needs.

Her eyes widened when twenty undead Hopites clad in black armor that was covered by black robes each carrying a trident and a shield in hand as they marched in a dark unison approached the gate. "Fuck. The. Gods. What is this queen the daughter of fucking Hades." Mira shouted as she the two men followed the undead into the palace. She didn't wish to follow but that was not the way these dreams worked. Following behind the two the Drake King spoke as they entered. "I hear you took the City of Labrador. The Kings in the North have ruled there for centuries and have many allies. Attacking them may not have been wise." You have no idea. Mira thought to herself as a devious smile grew on her face.

"Welcome godking... and Drake King, I Queen Ariana of Atlantia and my sister High Oracle Sylvia greet you. Both of you requested to speak with me and now both of you have the chance. So how i ask want is it you seek from me and my empire? Words of trade? Or is it a plea for us to join in your war?", the Queen spoke addressing her uninvited guests. "The invasion of Labrador was not wise, it was a necessity. My people are starving right now and I cannot say the Starks did not expect that a starving nation would act violently when embargoed." Whether or not any other parties in the room felt any sympathy for Wanehope or his people was beyond her but she personally did not. Starving nation or not what the severity of what Wanehope did was unjust and nothing would stop her or the others from making sure him and those that joined his side would be punished.

Walking over to a desk he took out a parchment of paper that he had in his robe in order to uncrease it. "I am in fact here to ask for aid in this war. We do not have a navy and I hear that Atlantia not only has the largest, but the finest as well." Her brown eyes rolled at the comment of Atlantia having the finest navy. She wasn't aware of numbers in the case of Atlantia one thing that she did know was that their navy wasn't taught and commanded by the daughter of the sea as the Kingdom of Tripartite navy was. She wounder how Dalila would respond to that comment as Wanehope continued on. "I have also heard that the empire is dwindling. I have even heard rumors of potential bankruptcy. Luckily for you I need a navy to assist my armies." An empire built on the water that was slowing submerging in debt. This was interesting. "This is my proposal. In exchange for assisting Khalidor in our war I will give a large grant of gold to Atlantia for the war effort. Two hundred and fifty thousand ingots to be precise. That should last for a while. After the war is finished we will split the North Atlantic. You will get the west and I will get the east. Additionally I will give you twenty thousand soldiers and one hundred meisters to help you take Galapagos. Also I offer another five thousand ingots of gold and my offer of assistance in taking Galapagos will increase to thirty thousand in exchange for the Hudson Valley."

If it wasn't personal before it had just gotten personal now. Her friends were one thing but now he crossing a line when it came to her wine. No one, not even Jupiter himself, would disrupt the flow of Galapagos wine. She wasn't sure how the Galapagos King was fairing with the blockage but she knew it would be dealt with before it caused damaged with the Kingdom of Tripartite trade with the city. As Wanehope pricked his thumb with his tooth to make it bleed with the scroll in hand he wiped the blood on the inside of the scroll making it glow red. "It is a blood contract. If I do not send your gold, your promised troops, or give you your promised land then this spell will kill me. On the other hand if you do not lend me your navy after you get your part of the bargain or betray me than you shall die. Do we have a deal." Mira while obviously not against the use of magic was not a fan of blood magic. Blood magic was evil magic which at this point she was far from surprised that Wanehope dabbled in this as well.

The meeting was held for what felt like hours. By the time the deal had been made Mira was sitting on the palace floor just wishing to awake. "So that is that with this my Empire joins yours in war. Once again the trident will run red with the blood of our foes." That meant that going into this war Wanehope had the forces of his own army, that of the Drake King's, the Atlantian Queen's and the Fuarians. This did not worry Mira in the less especially now that she knew of what he enemies planned. The forces of the Kingdom of Tripartite would by arriving by noon and the Valyrian forces would be a day behind that. She would warn Kenna and get Kenna to war her uncle as what was going to be arriving on his shores. More time passed when finally she heard the words that concluded this longing drawn out meeting. "Now unless there is more either of you wish to add then as the godking said our business is over for today.", and just like that she was awake.

Sitting up in her bed she spared no time as she climbed out of bed and ran to the door. "You! Come here. Quickly!" She said calling out to a servant who was standing down the long hallway. When she approached Mira told her, "I need to speak with my cousins, your princess, her lady, the silver queen and Jon Stark. If they are asleep than have them woken and tell them to meet me in the meeting courtier at so as possible. It is gravely important." The woman could hear the level of urgency in Mira's voice and left right away. Closing her chamber doors she dressed herself and hurried out of the room to inform them of everything she had seen and heard.

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Character Portrait: Amelia Targaryen Character Portrait: Jon Stark Character Portrait: Mira Alington
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Jon was enjoying the simple repetition of archery practice. The careful knocking of the arrow, the tension on the bow string, the silence before release and the excitement of the arrow in flight. It was simple, it was easy and it was relaxing. For just a few precious hours Jon Stark wasn't an orphan. He wasn't a rightful king or an exiled prince, he was just a man with a bow trying to hit a stump of hay. Jon relished the soreness in his arms and back, the tingling in his stressed fingertips and the relative quiet of the courtyard. As the sun touched the rest of the castle and woke the rest of it's occupants most paid him little mind or were polite enough to leave him be. The stable hands bid him good morning and went about their business. The men at arms remarked at his skill or said nothing at all and strolled about to do their respective duties. The serving staff for the castle bowed or curtsied politely and left him, most without so much as a word.

Quiet mornings was not something he was going to come upon with any regularity in the coming months so Jon was intent on savoring every moment of this one. He pulled back on the bowstring, careful to zero in on his target. His fingertips held the string deftly as he readied his shaft. He breathed slowly and released. The arrow went sailing and struck the stack of hay with a resounding thwak. Jon lowered his bow before rolling his shoulder to ease some of the welcome tension in the muscle. The shot was a bulls eye. Jon was satisfied with his work and walked the length of the field to retrieve his arrows. As he did his eyes were drawn upwards, as if to the heavens.

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There she stood, on a balcony looking out across the castle. If Jon thought she was beautiful in the moonlight the sunlight made her unfathomably gorgeous. Her long silver hair hung about her loosely, unbound from her slumber. Her emerald eyes that attracted him so seemed to catch the sunlight in such a way to almost glimmer. Her body was draped in the sleeping gown Jon had seen her in last night but in the morning wind it caressed and hugged her body just enough to tease his imagination. Jon couldn't help but stare at such splendor. Even as a tiny winged creature appeared and began speaking with her Jon struggled to take his eyes off Amelia Targaryen.

"Your Grace?"

Came the voice that tore him from the balcony back to the courtyard below. Jon spun around to find a young man, no a boy, standing behind him. His hands were respectfully folded in front of him and his head was slightly bent forward also in respect.

"Your Grace, Jon Stark?"

The boy asked again.

"Your Grace?"

Jon replied finally, asking as to the title. The young man looked a bit flustered at the question and swallowed nervously before responding.

"Apologies y-your, prince, Stark. I only thought, given your fathers passing that you would be-"

"Your Grace."

Jon finished for him in understanding. Jon hadn't really given it much thought but there were a great many things he was going to have to learn and become accustomed to now that he was the rightful King of The North. Jon's acceptance of the title seemed to put the boy at ease and he smiled casually.

"Queen Mira requests an audience with you in the meeting courtier."

"Thank you."

Jon said with a polite nod. The boy nodded in return and turned to leave but Jon remembered suddenly he had no idea where the meeting courtier was.

"Wait, hold on. What was your name?"

Jon asked after the boy as he walked toward him.

"Podrick, Your Grace. Podrick Payne. I'm a squire in the service of House Caitlin."

"You think you could show me the way to the meeting courtier, Podrick?"

Podrick smiled happily and nodded.

"Right this way, Your Grace."

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Character Portrait: Amelia Targaryen Character Portrait: Davina Mikaelson Character Portrait: Jon Stark Character Portrait: Mira Alington Character Portrait: Godking Wanhope Character Portrait: Captian Robyn Sheva of The Harbinger Character Portrait: Dalila Malyns Character Portrait: Jasunr Alington Character Portrait: Kenna Caitlin Character Portrait: Ajax Alexander Character Portrait: Moloch Markus Character Portrait: Spartacus Character Portrait: Ariana of Atlantia Character Portrait: Castiel Deberaux
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Mira stood in the meeting courtier with her arms crossed against her chest and her foot impatiently beating against the marble flooring. What part of gravely important does no one seem to understand she thought to herself as Kenna was the first to arrive. Her foot stop as she unfolded her arms letting them fall at her sides. "Where's Lady Davina?" she asked when she noticed that the lady was not by her princess side. Kenna hadn't had the chance to answer before Ajax came strolling into the courtier. "Do you recall at what hour we left the infirmary last night? I do. Which is why I was asleep." Mira rolled her eyes, snapping her fingers she than pointed to the table surround with empty chairs, "Sit. Now." She heard his groaned as he mumble something under his breath as he went and sat down awaiting the arrival of the others.

Jasunr and Dalila were the next to arrival walking in together. "Mira. It's early." Dalila complained as her and Jasunr walked over to the table and took two of the empty seats. Amelia and Jon arrived shortly after one coming after the other. Just as she was about to yet again ask where Davina was she arrived with two men."Who are -", she paused for a moment before just shaking her head point to the table where the others sat,"It doesn't matter. Everyone just sit so I can explain why I've you all .... well most of you here." When Davina and her guests had sat Mira walked to the end of the table and began to speak.

"So last night as I slept I dreamt. This dream wasn't just a dream but-"

"You saw the future?"

"The past. I witnessed Wanehope forging his newest alliance. He has not only rallied the Drake King to his side but the Atlantans as well. The man seems to possess magic similar to that of Ajax and the Atlantans are practicers of necromancy. In exchange for assisting Khalidor in the coming war Wanehope has promised the Queen of Atlantia gold. Two hundred and fifty-five thousand ingots to be precise. As it would seem Atlantia has fallen on tough times and are in serious need of the Khalidorian gold." She took a moment as she thought about what else she had heard and seen before continuing.

"He has also granted the Atlantian Queen thirty thousand of his men to help her take the capital city of Galapagos. Apparently he has a hundred thousand soldiers to the northern border of Galapagos. The godking spoke of invading from the north while the Atlantians would fight from the east. However, the Atlantians Queen sees the the best way of attacking as being Wanehope's army striking from the north while her navy attacks from the sea." Remembering Wanehope's comment about the Atlantians having the greatest navy in the known word. Shifting her gaze to Dalila she added, "Also according to the so called godking the Atlantians have not only has the largest, but the finest navy in the lands. As the daughter of the sea you may wish to do something about these rumors. The last thing we need is your father's delicate feelings getting hurt and him unleashing a wrath of earthquakes, tidal waves and hurricanes galore."

"We will see who's naval fleet is better when hers is sinking to the bottom of the ocean." Dalila spoke clearly annoyed by this. Mira seeing this couldn't help but smile. Dalila was normally the passive one of the group. Opting to do anything to avoid war but when it came to her kingdom, her family and the water she would kill without a second thought.

Getting back on track she continued on about the enemy's plans. "According to the Atlantian Queen years ago a great ship sailed east into the African Ocean. The ship was called the Victory. It sailed until it came upon the island. They named it the Island Victora. In the ruins of the island some kind of golem army. The queen wants to find this island as she claims it could bring the world under the trident."

"It's highly unlikely that something such as this exists. Especially on some unknown forgettable island."

"That may be true, but in a world of dragons and magic there it's anything I would say couldn't have at least at one point in time have existed. Anyways a may existing golem army is the least of our worries at the moment. It turns out that the pirate ship you saw in your vision was that of Captain Robyn Sheva. I heard her name spoken at the meeting. Wanehope is having the Atlantian navy deployed to destroy the South Atlantic's navy and transport his soldiers to Drake City. She will be sending out her fleets to raid and blockade the South Atlantic."

"So in this three pact alliance, Wanehope get's the usage of the Atlantian and what I would guess also Drake City's naval forces. The Atlantians will get much needed funds and as they see it they will all expand their lands."

Mira nodded. "Am not sure if anything was signed between Wanehope and Moloch but a blood contract was used between him and the queen. If either doesn't hold up their end they will die."

"A bit extreme."

Mira just shrugged. "Northerns."

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Character Portrait: Amelia Targaryen Character Portrait: Davina Mikaelson Character Portrait: Jon Stark Character Portrait: Mira Alington Character Portrait: Godking Wanhope Character Portrait: Captian Robyn Sheva of The Harbinger Character Portrait: Dalila Malyns Character Portrait: Jasunr Alington Character Portrait: Kenna Caitlin Character Portrait: Ajax Alexander Character Portrait: Moloch Markus Character Portrait: King Deacon Lesseth Character Portrait: Ariana of Atlantia Character Portrait: Castiel Deberaux
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Jon listened to Queen Mira speak with growing concern. Wanhope alone had taken over his country in the blink of an eye. An allegiance now with the Fuarians, the Atlanteans and Drake City only made their duty all the more difficult. Still Jon had to admit, new alliances or not Jon's allies still out numbered his enemies with ease. Not to mention the living god spawn and the mother of dragons on his side victory was not at all out of the question. Jon had seen what Wanhope was capable of but all men could die, he was no different. Jon sat back in his seat, bringing his hand to his chin in thought. He was trying to see the plan, the best course of action. He remembered back to his training as a boy at Winterfell with Ser Rodrick. He remembered pouring over old maps and tomes of battles long fought. Ser Rodrick would test him endlessly, forcing him to glean the strategies that worked and the ones that didn't. Where mistakes were made and discovering what one commander was plotting against the other.

"They're driving a wedge between us, they want to split us up so we can't overwhelm them."

Jon said, thinking out loud to the royals gathered. The decision to have a dual invasion was wise. Wanhope knew he was out numbered and an all out battle in The North would only force him to put his army and the armies of his allies against a vastly larger force. Attacking the Galapagos while striking south from Winterfell will force Jon's allies to divide their forces to deal with both threats. Jon started thinking of the best way to neutralize at least one of these threats. Wanhope had a secure foothold for now in The North. As long as he held Winterfell he could strike south anytime. They needed to route him out of his family's keep.

"We have to take Winterfell. Take his foothold in The North."

Jon's mind returned home. He was in the wolfswood and the isle of faces, he walked through the riverlands and the godswood. He could see the great houses of his country as well. The Karstarks with their white sunburst sigil and the Umbers of Last Hearth carrying their banners depicting a giant breaking free of chains. The Boltons and their flayed man and the trout of House Tully along with all the rest. They were Northmen, proud men. Men not made to kneel easily. Northerners are bred to endure, to survive. But how to find them and unite them?

Slowly his gaze drifted to Amelia Targaryen as it was tending to do with increasing regularity as of late. Yet this time it wasn't to merely linger on her beauty but in remembrance of the words she'd spoken to him. "Jon you are the last Stark of Winterfell. You are now the sole heir to your father's throne and the only Stark capable of saving the North. If you aren't going to live for yourself than do so for the people who need you." His people, they were his people. His father's people and his father's before him. The men of the North were Stark men, men loyal to his house and name for thousands of years. Brandon the Builder united the people of The North to battle the White Walkers along side the Children of The Forest during the Long Night. A Tully married into the Stark family and swore the Riverlands to the Kings of Winter. A Stark granted a keep and lands to a younger son, Karlon, in return for putting down a rebellion. His family then grew up into the Karstarks. Starks fought the wildlings and their so called Free Kings beside the Umbers of Last Hearth, thus earning their fealty. Boltons? Back then they were the bane of the North. A few were even rumored to wear their enemies' flayed skins as cloaks. But after centuries of war, they too bent the knee. They were all loyal and have been for years, they would fight for him now if only they knew that a King in the North yet lived.

"I have to get North, I have to go home. If I can get back into The North I can unite my people. Northerners do not bend the knee easily. There will be many who resist Wanhope and his forces, men loyal to House Stark, men who'll fight for me. If I can get north I can unite my fathers... my bannermen and take the fight to Wanhope from the inside. We take Winterfell from him he'll lose what he's gained. He'll lose his ability to strike further south. That would isolate the Atlanteans on the border of the Galapagos where we could then destroy them without them receiving any support from Khalidor."

Another idea sprang to his mind as well, mad but it might ensure the naval battles stays in their favor as well as keep Wnahope busy while Jon sneaks back north.

"This pirate captain of Wanhope's, this Robyn Sheva. She could make getting North all the easier if she's raiding his coasts and ships while we sneak by. Do we know why she's working with Wanhope? I'd wager it's gold, only thing I've ever known to motivate a thief. If that's the case she can be bought. We should try and bring her to our side as well. The more we take from Wanhope, the more we isolate him, the easier it will be to put a sword through his heart."

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Character Portrait: Amelia Targaryen Character Portrait: Davina Mikaelson Character Portrait: Jon Stark Character Portrait: Mira Alington Character Portrait: Dalila Malyns Character Portrait: Jasunr Alington Character Portrait: Kenna Caitlin Character Portrait: Ajax Alexander Character Portrait: Spartacus Character Portrait: Castiel Deberaux
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"They're driving a wedge between us, they want to split us up so we can't overwhelm them."

The Stark was right. Wanehope had taken the North and had set things in motion to attack both Galapagos City and the Velilia Kingdom. They couldn't allow Galapagos City to be sacked like the North and they also couldn't let the South Atlantic fleet be sunken. They were being forced to divided their forces as well as their attentions. They couldn't focus solely on Wanehope and his acts of injustice when there was absolute chaos heading for Galapagos and them in the capital.

"We have to take Winterfell. Take his foothold in The North. I have to get North, I have to go home. If I can get back into The North I can unite my people. Northerners do not bend the knee easily. There will be many who resist Wanhope and his forces, men loyal to House Stark, men who'll fight for me. If I can get north I can unite my fathers... my bannermen and take the fight to Wanhope from the inside. We take Winterfell from him he'll lose what he's gained. He'll lose his ability to strike further south. That would isolate the Atlanteans on the border of the Galapagos where we could then destroy them without them receiving any support Khalidor.

"From the way the spoke in my dream it seemed like they were sending out their forces immediately. I don't even know how many days have passed in-between what they said than and where we are now. For all we know the ships and men have already been deployed and are coming for us as we speak."

Mira knew how badly Jon wanted to return home and even if he was right and his bannermen did flood to his side the North had already been beaten once. What state were these men in? None of them knew. How many of them still breathed? None of them. This mission could very well be a suicide mission and with all the other threats closing in on them now wasn't exactly the time to be taking a leap of faith.

"This pirate captain of Wanhope's, this Robyn Sheva. She could make getting North all the easier if she's raiding his coasts and ships while we sneak by. Do we know why she's working with Wanhope? I'd wager it's gold, only thing I've ever known to motivate a thief. If that's the case she can be bought. We should try and bring her to our side as well. The more we take from Wanhope, the more we isolate him, the easier it will be to put a sword through his heart."

"I would rather just kill the pirate." Dalila spoke bluntly while she was still contemplating the idea in her head. "Pirates aren't to be trusted. We could offer her all the riches in the world and she could still turn around and stab us in the back. Take our gold and tip the man off as to our plans." It was well known that pirates and sell-swords alike were two things to never be trusted in the world. There was no honor or loyalty in what they did. Only profit. Which is why dealing with such people was so dangerous, because for as much as one man could pay there was always another who could pay more.

"Well daughter of the sea what would you suppose we do?" Ajax asked as Dalila began to ponder. "I'll call forth the creatures of the sea to protect the sea ports of the kingdom and Galapagos City." Dalila shared her father's divine authority over the creatures of the sea and horses alike. The creatures of the sea treated her with deference and lordly respect. If she called they would come and if told to do something they would do it without hesitation. "I'll send a sea serpent to destroy the existing blockage. Merepeople will be stationed in the United and Brazilian Oceans near the sea ports to protect the Galapagian ships and destroy any arriving Atlantian ships. The Salamis and Beotia kingdoms naval forces will also be sent to Galapagos City as a precaution. Sirens will be place a couple of miles outside of South Atlantic ports to do what they do best. I'll guard and protect the South Atlantic with my fleet and the South Atlantic's to take care of any ships that would make it pass the sirens."

"I'll led my men out of the city to intercept the arriving men of Drake coming in from the south. Mira you can lead Dalila's land forces as she will be busy at sea dealing with the ships."

"I could take the men west towards the Brazilian Ocean. Setting up station a couple of miles outside of the city while the South Atlantic troops could guard the capital."

"Which means that me and my men will be going with Jon to the North to re-band his bannermen."

The half-gods thought over their plans in their mind waiting for the others to speak up if they had anything to say or suggest.

Setting

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Character Portrait: Amelia Targaryen Character Portrait: Jon Stark Character Portrait: Ajax Alexander
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The land before them was a vast expanse of bogs and swamps. The Neck stretched from the North American ocean to the Euro-Asian sea running the length of the territory line of The North. Any army thinking to attack The North from the south would be forced to wade their way through The Neck. The swamps of The Neck are ruled by House Reed, the cranogmen that live there. Small, shy people who rarely leave their swamps. They live in houses of thatch that float above the murky waters that hide terrors form ages past. Unlike the rest of The North the cranogmen keep no garrisons and raise no soldiers for petty spats with neighboring houses. Their lands protects its own. An outsider will find in The Neck and endless morass of suck holes, quick sand and green grass that looks solid to the unwary eye but turns to water the instant you tread upon it. If you're lucky enough to be armored you'll only drown inside your own steel. If you're not you'll get to meet what swims in that water, serpents and monstrous lizard lions with teeth like daggers and never enough to eat. One needn't worry however, only your horse will live long enough to feel their poisons burning through their veins. If you somehow survive all this you may find that a well placed dart can be as deadly as any blade, not that you'll see the cranogmen blowing it your way.

This is what lay before them, before Ajax Alexander, Amelia Targaryen and Jon Stark along with what few men they brought along with them. Jon had insisted on a small party, little over sixty men in total. An army trudging through the swamps would lose half of their number at any rate and Jon doubted his ability to navigate The Neck as it was. He was from The North but that didn't mean he knew The Neck, the swamps of the cranogmen were known to only those that live in it and even they find surprises in it's murky waters and vine laden trees. Jon had to somehow guide the force at his back through the swamps, with minimal losses to the quick sand and worse of The Neck in order to drive further north and seek out his bannermen. He knew they were out there somewhere, he just needed to find them.

Jon brought his horse to a halt, tugging at the reins gently causing the destrier to whinny in protest. Jon tenderly patted the neck of the great black horse calming it as his eyes scanned the swamps ahead. The ground was already sodden and more mud than soil. What grasses there were stood tall as a man and could be hiding anything. Jon could hear the slow moving water up ahead and the hissing of lizard lions within. Ghost growled at the side of Jon's horse, apparently hearing the beasts of the swamp as well. The horses would have a tough time moving through the thick mud with riders so they'd have to lead them on foot. Jon rose a hand and stopped the column.

"Dismount, we go on foot from here."

Jon said turning back to look at them. Ajax was to his left. The massive man almost dwarfed the stallion between his legs. The son of Jupiter was a mountain of a man and his weight would surely sink his horse in the first mud pit they crossed, though something told Jon the big man could carry the damned horse if he had to. No easy feet considering the gargantuan sized warhorse was easily a quarter the size bigger than Jons.

To his right was Amelia. The beautiful queen was mounted gracefully on a magnificent silver coated mare. The horse moved effortlessly through the obstacles in it's path, rider or not. The two moved together as one as if Amelia was born in the saddle. Jon wondered where she'd learned to ride so well. Amelia had volunteered to join Ajax in accompanying Jon north. He had thought better of it, concerned for her well being knowing what danger faced them in enemy territory but one look from the Mother of Dragons warned him better of voicing his concerns. She was as brave as the rest of them, braver perhaps and if Jon was going to be honest with himself he wasn't keen on the idea of not being able to see her every day.

Jon walked around his horse and helped Amelia out of her saddle with a hand as Ajax bounded from his, landing hard in the mud with a resounding thump. Jon was grateful to have the mountain here with him, woe be the fool to challenge them with the strong man at their side. Jon gave Amelia a slightly sheepish smile as she joined him on the ground.

"The swamps of The Neck are treacherous, I've heard tales of whole armies being swallowed up by the bogs. Best we take it slow and careful."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Amelia Targaryen Character Portrait: Jon Stark Character Portrait: Jasunr Alington Character Portrait: Ajax Alexander Character Portrait: Castiel Deberaux
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(Winchester collabed with me on this)

Ajax, Jon and Amelia

Jon had suggested a small party for there expedition to the North. Ajax had never gone any further than the South Atlantic Kingdom, so as far as what laid ahead he was going basis completely off of what Jon said and thought. So if Jon said that a small party would be best a small party was what it was. His chosen battlemen that he selected to ride with him north were all former gladiators of the arena. His very best. Those that did not go with him were sent off with Jasunr and Castiel to battle the troops of Drake.

Jon didn't appear to be the most confident of guides which worried Ajax greatly. However, he was the only guide they had so Ajax and his men would have to trust the man's instinct and word. When the Mother of Dragons had said she would be joining them Ajax wasn't thrilled about the idea but what could he say. To question the mother was to risk having to answer to her children and Amelia's children were not the kind of children one wished to have to provide answers to.

Ajax hadn't imagined that the North would be so .. swampy. When he pictured the North he had pictured mountains of snow as white as Ghost's pelt and temperatures so freezing cold he'd be able to see his own breath in the air. The Neck, however, was the exact opposite of what he had imagined. The water they trudged through was so murky you could barely see below the surface. Pegasus moved along the left side of Jon's destrier moving in-sync with the equine in front of him. Jon rising a hand into the air had the column come to a halt.

"Dismount, we go on foot from here."

Pegasus whined in protest stomping his right hoof into the swampy earth below him. "Easy, Pegasus." Ajax said dismounting the winged black stallion. When each of the half-gods accepted who they were their godly fathers presented them with two gifts. Weaponry crafted by the god Vulcan himself and a creature. These creatures were not given to be gifts but guardians. The twins of Apollo each had their manticores, Dalila had her hippocampus and Ajax had pegasus. Between half-god and guardian a uniquely great bond was shared. "I'll return soon. Don't go getting caught in any of these sinkholes." He spoke as he rubbed his massive hand on the side of the stallion's neck.

"The swamps of The Neck are treacherous, I've heard tales of whole armies being swallowed up by the bogs. Best we take it slow and careful."

Coming to Jon's side he nodded in understanding. "Well let us pray to the gods that we are not among those men." As his men gathered ready to venture forward Ajax looked ahead at the swampy path ahead. "Lead the way Stark."



Jasunr & Castiel

After the arrival of the Tripartite men the royals disbanded as the first battles of war had come upon them. Word had reached the castle that villages in the far south were being pillaged. Kenna figured this was the act of Moloch and his men as unless Wanehope was capable of teleporting an entire army he couldn't possibly be leading that charge. Separating the Kingdom of Beotia from the Kingdom of Tripartite close to three hundred thousand troops fought for the kingdom. These forces consisted of both a light and heavy cavalry, infantry and archers. The attack had come sooner than expected and there was no time to set up the field artillery that would have been fairly useful in the coming battle. Mounting their destriers, Jasunr with his manticore at his side and his men at his back stormed out of the city on the path to battle.

~~~

"I knew I should have gone to the North"
"I knew I should have gone with your sister."

Jasunr let out a small chuckle as he and the werewolf looked out at the sight before them. His whole life Jasunr had thought his cousin Ajax was the largest man in the world. Until today he would have died believing that was the truth. However, on this day he saw what a true mountain looked like. A savage brute of a man, freakishly tall at least 7 feet in height, and well over 30 stone in weight, was slaughtering helpless village men left and right.

"This cannot possibly be all of Moloch's men. You ride further south with Ajax's men. I shall stay here and take care of ... that beast."

Turning from the horrific scene the continued at the base of the grassy hill they stood on Castiel looked at Jasunr with skepticism. "I hope for your stake you truly are the son of Apollo. For I can see no mere mortal man going up a beast like that and making it out alive."

Jasunr again chuckled looking at the man at his side. "Good luck wolf-man."

"All the same to you half-god." With that Castiel rode away leading Ajax forces away with him. Looking down at his manticore who hungry eyes were deadlocked on the enemy below Jasunr smiled. Lifting his sword to the sun the sword ignited in flames. "Forward!" He yelled as his destrier broke in a cantering racing down the hill to the bloody battle below.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Amelia Targaryen Character Portrait: Jon Stark Character Portrait: Ajax Alexander Character Portrait: Queen Tenanye Ananse
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Fog flow heavy through the Neck, as the fluttering of wings broke the silence.

"The swamps of the Neck are treacherous. I have heard tales of whole armies have been swallowed by those bogs. Best we take it slow and careful" said Jon Stark.

"Let us pray to the gods we are not amoung those men." added Ajax Alexander.

"Have not another worry. We will guide you" called a haunting woman's voice through the thickness. Slowly, shadows appeared behind the trees, and a unnaturally tall woman with warm honey skin and an unhuman appeared through the fog.

Her shapely body was covered in a pale silk dress, looking almost like a spirit in the fog that hid her.
Her sharp-shaped eyes housed an ink black pit, so much so that it was near impossibe to know where she was looking, with a blink however the black ink that were her eyes, slid into a small disks in the middle, giving her a more human appearance, as a large spider crawled on to her shoulder.

The woman smiled, her eyes looking to Amelia before turning her attention to the men.

"Allow me to introduce myself," She said and the figures in hidden behind the tree stepped forward, revealing inhuman creatures with long limbs, with black eyes, some kneel down, other skittered in the trees

"I am Queen Tenanye, and we are the Spider Fae of Anansai."