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GoT (Rp forum game)

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((AAsim accepted. Keep in mind all the things we talked about ok?))
The Steward sprung to his task. "Yes Lord Commander?" He said in his boyish tone. [user avatar="https://cravatar.eu/helmavatar/UnusualBrit/74.png" name="UnusualBrit"]12700073[/user]

The raven's wings floated down to the maester at the bolton home and allowed its message to be revealed.

Leorne lay awake in bed. His brain working like clockwork, solving problems and creating schemes. Yes the lannister lord would try and regain his wealth and build up his soldiers. That would take time though, oh so much time, to build up again and be strong enough to oppose the Reynes. Never the less, he would have to act fast. He tore of the sheets and threw on a cloak and walked swiftly to the barrack were knights rested. He walked through looking over each one until he found the one he needed. He shook him awake and beckoned him to walk with him. Once out of the barracks of slumbering men, he began speaking to the knight. "Well commander, I think that it is time to try and set our roots among the golden cub. His sons are off in some place and he is alone among his courts. I suspect you know what to do?" The knight nodded then began in his old tone, "Yes the lannister lord will need the help of the Reynes to rebuild. I will ride with 10 knights in the marrow to speak with him." The Reyne nodded his head and set out back to bed leaving the elderly knight alone in the dimly light hall. He stood for mere moments before turning and returning to the barracks to sleep the night away. In the morning, him and 10 household knights would set out for Casterly rock, to serve as the Reyne representatives in the lannister court.
 
((Lord Reyne may reveal his message, however I will not come to know of it's content ingame as Jory and Geralt are venturing for the Karstark keep, and their uncle has vanished. Also, I leave it to the DMs to tell me when the Bolton brothers shall reach their destiny. Please tell me so when the time has come so I may continue.))
 
The Sea Lion walked among his court, the halls of Casterly Rock seemed almost empty a few weeks past. Now they blossomed with mummers and poets, singers and dancers. However they were to keep the balance. Soldiers and officers filed in. Numerous sellswords and mercenaries had been seen filling into Lannisport under rumors that Tybolt the Thunderbolt would be paying graciously for men-at-arms.

Yet he watched the flickering lights of Casterly Rock cascade across the marble and stone, walking upon carpets from Dorne and Lys he pushed onwards over a fur-coat bought years past when a traveler slew a mountain lion up near the Golden Tooth. Finally his eyes flicked upwards and their he stood. His pride and honor, his line. A boy with tawny curls tossed back as if to say 'I woke up and look this good.', eyes the shade of emeralds glistening. He stood there speaking with two maidens, one of which looked like a Lyseni women. Tybolt inhaled the damp warm air inside Casterly Rock watching his son. He was a lion. However a lion without mate. His face wrinkled slightly as he processed of whom to marry him to. Then his eyes came in contact with his daughter too, she sat amidst a pool chatting away with a singer or so it seemed from the harp he carried. She was still a cub. No doubt one to be wedded off to as well. Now who could he marry his son and daughter too....?

Turning around and pacing back to whence he hath came the Sea Lion began forging ideas. Not one of the Northerners, they are as barbaric as they came. That idiot Arryn lead to the bleeding of the Realm. Southern lords? Maybe the Tyrell's had a pretty maiden or a handsome knight...? No. They had not spoken in quite some time. Dorne?

Immediately Tybolt dismissed that idea. Martells can rot in their deserts. Baratheons? Too hairy and stormy. No their blood is impure. Then it popped into his mind like an explosion. The dragons. The Targaryen twins. "MARKS!" he shouted accidentally before his servant came. "Send a raven to Dragonstone, inform the Black Dragon that a certain alliance may be forged. NO don't be hasty - Let me write it. I said LET ME WR- FOOL OF A TOOK - GIVE ME IT." he exclaimed fighting over a piece of paper with Markus who was being quite a - derp.
 
"Nothing of importance my lord. Though during the mornin' mean I did over hear some of the rangers talking about a large party of wildlings but the older ones dismissed it as folly." The Boy said to the lord commander. [user avatar="https://cravatar.eu/helmavatar/UnusualBrit/74.png" name="UnusualBrit"]12700073[/user]
 
"Hmm" Replied Yorryn scratching his beard, "I want these rangers sent in here Steward, Go now and send for them!"
 
The boy ran out at once and returned with two ruff looking men with black hair and another, an elderly gentlemen with a white beard and white locks, easily recognized as the ranger commander Harton, an elderly man from the westernlands. Though his last name, which denoted his house, were not known, many assumed that he was a relative of one of the great southern vassal houses, or even a member of house lannister itself. Those were just rumors however. "You wanted to see us m'lord?"
 
"I've heard rumours that you three spoke of a large party of wildlings, if this is true. What is their number and their location?" He spoke swiftly,
 
"Aye it was these two trouble makers who said it not I. "Go on lads, say your tale." The two men looked at each other and gulped. "well, as you know there were 3 of us who set out to look beyond the wall and while we were out there, we spotted something moving in the woods. We sent the young lad, Arty out to look at it cause he was the smallest. So he comes back wide eyes and said that there was a massive group of wildlings some 50,000 strong as he put it. So we didn't believe him but so I went to go look at it myself. I looked out over the little snow barrier and saw it. It was a huge camp some 75,000 by the looks of it! I motioned the other two lads up closer with me and we looked on but then the snow holding up little Arty broke and he slide down the hill. So him and I looked at each other and ran as fast as our legs could carry us back here. We don't know what happened to the lad but we assumed him as good as dead. Then once we reached here, Lord Harton said that is was probably folly and that we were seein things cause the cold." The man blurted out quickly, letting the words hang in the air after it. The ranger captain stepped forward again and began in his low tone, "Aye. I have had many outings in the north and I have never seen anything like what they are describing. If it truly is 75,000 wildlings, then I think we would have spotted them forming up before now." Said the old man who then stepped back into line with the two young men.
 
"75,000 you say?" He replied scratching his beard "Hmm... You are dismissed, you three." He spoke to Harton and the other two men. "Steward." He called to the boy "Send a raven to the starks in the south. The watch asks of troops to aid them against wildlings beyond the wall, In the meantime we shall assemble 500 Sworn brothers to ambush them and hopefully drive them away from the wall. Understand?"
 
After writing and sending a letter by raven to Dragonstone, Lord Lannister, decided on sending other letters to vassals including House Lefford, House Payne, House Farmam, House Lannister of Lannisport and House Reyne, the pains.

Each letter was detailed strictly on the immediate presence of each Houses lords attending Casterly Rock within a fortnight. If any other course of action is taken it shall be condoned as a breaking of oaths and whoever that does so shall in due time be hung, their House burned in an inferno and even the cats and dogs that run in their keeps will be put to the sword, so the say. [user avatar="https://cravatar.eu/helmavatar/Mile_Hi_Masher/74.png" name="Mile_Hi_Masher"]10356423[/user] ((RP for yourself and the other Lords please until another DM is available.))
 
"But sir. All the starks are dead." The steward says nervously. [user avatar="https://cravatar.eu/helmavatar/UnusualBrit/74.png" name="UnusualBrit"]12700073[/user]

Because the other vassal houses of house Lannister are not claimed, so they do not have lords as of right now, they will not be touched as I said. [user avatar="https://cravatar.eu/helmavatar/Captain_Aasim/74.png" name="Captain_Aasim"]12253360[/user]
 
You may rp your steward. Use good judgment Wither, and I will keep a eye to see if you meta (Not accusing, just stating.)
Aasim accepted, who could have seen that coming. And yes, you may call on your vassal houses, BUT, you are currently weakened right now, so they can overtake you, or flat out refuse to come to your aid.

You may continue schnitzel.

Richard and his men make it back to Karhold, and are greeted by servants and men, attending to their many atrocious wounds. When Richard breaks the news about their sons and nephews who marched off with him and died beside him, many women and children cry out in dismay. Richard has taken to bed, and is currently having his wounds on his back and arm attended to. He has ordered a raven to be sent to the dread fort to retake winterfell and hold it in his stead, until the karstarks can mobilize and march.
(im going to be primarily active in the evenings, central time, during the rest of the day, mile has full reign, please, if you have any questions or complaints, see me later in the evening, instead of stopping rp to fix, unless your really must. Thnx.
 
Jory's gaze ran up the gate and locked on a man on the battlements above. "Hey! Good man! My name is Jory, of House Bolton, Lord of the Dreadfort. Open the gates, if you may!"
They had been travelling for several days. The men aswell as their lord had been weary and covered in dirt. Jory had made a halt at a spring a few miles from the castle, to wash himself and change into appropriate clothing. He knew most northerners didn't give clothing much a thought, but his father had taught him "As the appearance, as the liking." A first look could mean a lot. He now wore soft woolens beneath a black kyrass of boiled leather. A very short, red cloaking hung from his left shoulder. The front of his nightly dark armor embraced the sigil of House Bolton. The sigil had been a flayed man for ever since. Only Jory had found little liking in the light red background, with falling blood drops all across it. It had always looked so merry. When he inherited the lorddom of House Bolton, he had refined the sigil: the flayed man now hung head down, the hands and feet tied to a torturing cross. The background was black.
 
((Still accepting my sibling to be a person for a bit. I'd prefer female, so our line doesn't end.))

"We have few men left. That is why your host is limited." Draegen spoke to the Commander. A strong, hard man, the commander was tall and ugly. His nose was missing, along with an eye and many fingers. Those didgets that remained were gnarled and cracked, yet they could hold a sword. He understood fighting, that was clear; yet the man had no idea of peace, and no clear look of the battlefield. He sought charges and honor, not the tactics that often won wars. He had been raised in war, having watched guts be torn apart. He would hold Dragonstone greater than most while Draegen had gone. "The majority of our men will be held at King's Landing. You have a sea, and when our affairs are done you will have a Dragon. Either my twin or I shall come, and no ships will land."

The stone halls echoed with rain as Draegen walked across them, followed by two guards. They were silent, as men often were around him. But both were skilled and honorable. At a time such as this, that was rare to come upon. "You may leave me at the gate. Leave it open; do not let our people show fear." Yet as the Rhagan landed before the gate, even his guards had feared it. They fled as bidden, jogging away to leave Draegen with the black beast. Its scales were lined with silver and gold, mixing with the crimson tone. Its wings had grown twice its size, tinted with red. It lowered its head to allow him on, and soon they were gone.
 
Mile_Hi_Masher said:
Because the other vassal houses of house Lannister are not claimed, so they do not have lords as of right now, they will not be touched as I said. [user avatar="https://cravatar.eu/helmavatar/Captain_Aasim/74.png" name="Captain_Aasim"]12253360[/user]
Click to expand...

[quote user_id="5534629" avatar="https://assets-cloud.enjin.com/users/5534629/avatar/medium.1504366156.jpeg" name="TheDude"]
Aasim accepted, who could have seen that coming. And yes, you may call on your vassal houses, BUT, you are currently weakened right now, so they can overtake you, or flat out refuse to come to your aid.[/quote]

((Should I RP them or shall you or Mile? [user avatar="https://assets-cloud.enjin.com/users/5534629/avatar/small.1504366156.jpeg" name="TheDude"]5534629[/user] We also live in different time zones making it near impossible to RP together since you do it in the evening which is when I sleep and I do it during the mid-morning after school when you are sleeping. Maybe employ a DM who lives in Britian or Europe to handle the issue?))

The raven sent to Dragonstone would arrive now to Draegen Targaryen's Maester. It's black wings ached from hard travel and the letter with the seal of the golden lion was dropped by the window sill of the Maester's bedchambers. [user avatar="https://cravatar.eu/helmavatar/arakrsptec/74.png" name="arakrsptec"]7396155[/user]
 
The Maester, knowing his duty, would hand it off to the Commander in charge. Upon entering a private room, said man opens the letter, to read what has been put.

[user avatar="https://cravatar.eu/helmavatar/Captain_Aasim/74.png" name="Captain_Aasim"]12253360[/user]

((I can't tag gamer, but do the Iron Islands and Dorne exist?))
 
After unsealing the coat of the golden lion upon a red background the same insignia was displayed within and below it was the black ink written by an educated hand nonetheless.

'To the Lord Protector of the Realm, to the King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, to the Black Dragon, to Draegen Targaryen.

The Lords of the Westerlands pledge thee fealty as we had the King before, if you do take to bride Aemma of House Lannister. Her hand is offered to you, Prince of Dragonstone, and in return the lion shall roar under the dragons.

Signed, Lord Tybolt Lannister, Warden of the West and Shield of Lannisport.' [user avatar="https://cravatar.eu/helmavatar/arakrsptec/74.png" name="arakrsptec"]7396155[/user]

-----------------
Tybolt would await the bannermen. As he did this a raven would be sent south to Old Town to call upon his son, Tyland. [user avatar="https://assets-cloud.enjin.com/users/5534629/avatar/small.1504366156.jpeg" name="TheDude"]5534629[/user]

Aemma unlike most females was no fragile creature who preferred sowing over sword fighting or listening about great Knights like Ser Duncan the Tall or Baelor Breakspear over becoming one. She was no rose. No fool.

She sat by her window, in the deep bowels of the resting lion known as Casterly Rock. The air was humid and warm inside her bedchambers. Her carpet recently cleaned was decorated in red and yellow as if one had bled a man upon it before sprinkling fragments of gold on the damned thing. The sun was setting in the west now, it's orange rays tossing themselves toward her as if attempting to wrestle with Casterly Rock. She shielded her eyes with her hand from it and saw the city before her more clearly. Lannisport, ships sailed in and out and in and out daily but it was only at this time of day when the harbor-city shone gold and the people flocked outside to see the setting sun slumber. Aemma turned herself away from the window and arose from her stoney seat to walk across the bloody carpet over to her glass. The mirror mocked her with that appearance. It got her every time and she hated it. Not the mirror but what it revealed. Her twinkling green eyes, tawny orange hair and stature. One could not call her short, nor tall yet she was weirdly too womanly for herself. Her back straight as the Septa's used to teach her, head held high and proud and mouth closed. Just as her mother taught her. Disgusting. She wanted to toss her combed hair about, dance around with a sword in one hand and a cup filled with wine in the other. Her eyes drifted to the corner of the room where the wine was and for a moment she considered grabbing it, stealing a horse from the stables and running rampant through Casterly Rock madly. Dismissing the thought she picked up a chalice and filled it then sipped the red liquid.

As it filled her mouth she winced at the taste. According to the bottle it was from the Arbor and famed to be the best wine in Westeros. Aemma begged to disagree, she'd had garnered a certain like to Dornish wine, it has the hard freedom of the Rhoynar in it and she favored that too. After a few sips, more or less, of the wine she put it down and went to light a candle. The sun had set and night dawned. She slipped toward her wardrobe to dress in her gown and settle in for the night. And that she did. However the thought always pestered her as she attempted to sleep. Could woman be knighted?

((I think places like the Stormlands and Dorne are NPC and controlled by DM's.))
 
((Aye both are I think since they were the only two that weren't in the war?))
The Steward sends the lord commanders message down to the karstarks. [user avatar="https://cravatar.eu/helmavatar/UnusualBrit/74.png" name="UnusualBrit"]12700073[/user]

Many of the houses do not want to come knowing that winter's cold grasp was slowly gliding down from the north. Many others also don't like how their lord is speaking to them, demanding their presence or death, but still some come, them being the cleganes and the reyne envoy who would announce that their lord had fallen ill and was unfit to travel at this time. House payne comes grudgingly and with a mighty body guard of 200 knights. Lannisters of Lannisport are kinda already there so they don't have to travel. [user avatar="https://cravatar.eu/helmavatar/Captain_Aasim/74.png" name="Captain_Aasim"]12253360[/user] Ill be back soon to finish this with you sorry.
 
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