In The Time Of Kings
Now, listen, fair child, and I’ll tell you a story. It is of mice, of men, of monsters, of madness.
It is the tale of the Iron Throne and the Kings of Westeros.
It is a story of ice and fire.
Of opposites.
Of attraction and betrayal.
But mostly, dear little one.
It is our story.
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The King has once again, fallen. War, as always, is brewing in the North, in the South, in the East and West, and across the Dorthraki sea. War presses close, threatening to suffocate the life-breath out of the entirety of the seven kingdoms.
The kingdom is fractured, on the verge of splintering into a thousand razor-sharp shards. Every new house declares itself King and Ruler, and demands that the other Houses bend knee. Old alliances are called upon, broken, and new alliances are forged in the fires of war. But Westeros has survived wars before, and the Game of Thrones has begun once again.
Will you win?
Or will you die?
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Yup, this is a Game of Thrones RP. Go nuts. All Houses are open to play, but there is no one King at King’s Landing. Make up your own House, play as a House that already exists, whatever. There are no canon characters in play, however. So, for example, you can be a Lannister, but you cannot be Cersei, Tyrion, whoever. For our points and purposes, those people never existed. Seriously though, if you want to do something, do it. Follow the rules of GoT though – not much magic, but treason to spare. Do whatever you want, play wherever you want, say you are whoever you want to be.
Don’t trust anyone. Work together, behind the scenes, if you like, message whoever you want to try and gain the upper hand, but be warned - they could be lying to you.
If you want a quick reference for a character, click this.
Houses and Characters in them
House Garren: Revai Kkar (Darksabre)
House Stark: Alissa Stark (Reimi)
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A woman, of obvious nobility, was wandering through King’s Landing. There was no great cavalcade of ornate palanquins, no heraldry, nothing. She was merely strolling through the port, dressed in an atypical fashion, but still lushly.
A sword hung from her hip, a rapier with a oddly ornate hilt. She wore very little fine jewelry, but regardless, the peasants of the realm recognized a highborn when they saw one and scurried to get out of her way.
But the woman did not chide them for looking at her. She was smiling broadly, openly, warmly at them, and paused every few stalls to trade pleasantries with the peddlers. She bought a few baubles here and there, affixing a simple copper hairclip into her sun-bright hair after one purchase. Her bright blue eyes were sparkling with laughter as she watched children at play, and even joined in a quick game of stickball, laughing easily, and not shooing any child away. Not even when one of the grimier ones left a handprint-smear of mud on her knee, nor when her long sleeves dipped in refuse as she knelt to comfort another.
Never did she give her name though.
No, not yet. She may be nobly bred, and of a high (albeit lost) house, but she liked doing this.
She was Revai Kkar of the lost House Garren. They possessed no lands, the called no army, but her House was ever with her. Her blood was as red as any of the Lannister’s, as honorable as any of the Arryn’s, as old as the Stark’s, as ferocious as the Barthereon’s, as bloodthirsty as the Greyjoy’s.
He who wanders, discovers.
She had wandered.
She and her House had wandered far and wide.
And now they had returned to Westeros. Observers, for the moment, watchers of the goings-on of a place frozen in old ways.
That could very easily change.
Revai looked over her shoulder to the massive Keep that dominated a lion’s share of the King’s Landing, wondering which King sat upon the Iron Throne. What family supped at the table, she wondered. And for how much longer would they do just that.
