@Inkarnate You're are more than welcome to Dorne and its spicy food, of course if you choose to join... did I mention that you have a shipment of extra spicy peppers?
@Asura Done, you get to be the snow loving Northern folk.
As you may have guessed, this is but a humble successor to Bluetommy's and Inkarnate's iterations of A Game of Thrones - Blood Runs Over Westeros. Many days, weeks, and months have passed since we've last seen a true Game of Thrones role-play here on the Guild, and to that end, I offer you a chance to reclaim those long lost glory days of old.
The year is 364 AC - The Wreckage of King Aerys IV's ship is found.
Long ago did Aegon Targaryen VI cross the Narrow Sea with the might of the Golden Company at his back, reclaiming his ancestral place atop the Iron Throne. The War of the Five Kings, raging all across the breadth of Westeros, finally came to an end in 302 AC, marking the glorious beginning of King Aegon VI's reign to come. Yet, even the greatest of Kings have their fair share of troubles to contend with, as the Gods are cruel and never ending in their machinations of man. Dark Wings, Dark Words, as the Night's Watch brings tidings from the distant North, for the King is dead, his ship's shattered hulk found upon the shores of Skane, while the fate of his mission to Braavos unknown.
Across the Summer Sea in Essos, Daenerys Targaryen returned to Meeren at the head of a mighty khalasar, hardened by the harrowing experiences of the Dothraki Sea. Westeros mattered not to this Queen, instead, she would form an Empire all her own. New Valyria - a free empire in which no man, woman, or child would ever again be a slave, all of Essos would have the chains of slavery and cruelty shattered once and for all. And for her enemy's, there would be no mercy... Meereen, Yunkai, Astapor, Tolos, Mantarys, Elyria, New Ghis, they all fell before Queen Daenerys and her dragons. Fire and Blood, her words of condemnation to the slavers and cruel masters of Slaver's Bay - now Dragon's Bay, as one by one, her foes fell before her like freshly sewn wheat. Now, decades later, after wars with Volantis and Qarth, the Free Cities and beyond, the children of Daenerys sharpen their blades and mount their dragons, readying for another war of conquest.
Sixty two years have passed since the end of the War of the Five Kings, and the supposed defeat of the ancient evil far to the North. In that time upon the shores of Westeros, many events, both great and small, have transpired, further shaping the course of time. It would be to the children of Aegon Targaryen VI and his lady wife, Shireen Baratheon, to leave their place upon the history's of Westeros.
A note to House Arryn, Stark, and Baratheon players/Players choosing a House depicted in this family tree: Feel free to change names/relay names to me in order for this to better reflect in game lore.
Now, after rebellions, wars, religious uprisings, a plague, and the loss of a King, the realm is without a clear heir to the throne, though many will claim they have the greatest right to the seat. A Great Council is needed, before any more chaos can spread, who will hold the Iron Throne is unclear, but one thing is for certain for the soon-to-be future. Westeros will bleed.
Influences: Several A Song of Ice & Fire sandbox RPs that have run on RPG in the last several years, and the great GM's that ran them in the past.
Game Admission: It's a public game, however, applications will be based on the merits of their quality.
Player Options: Houses or Individual Characters.
Book Lore vs HBO Lore: This world is primarily based on the novels written by George R.R. Martin, however, certain events depicted within the T.V. show will be grafted in to the overall lore and timeline of this RP. ((E.x. The destruction of the Great Sept of Baelor by Queen Cersei Lannister, the Sacking of Highgarden,)) When in doubt, refer to the books over the show when crafting your historical progress through the years.
Canon Precedence: Players have the autonomy - within reason of course - to decide their House's history and how it played into the conclusion of the War of the Five Kings that saw Aegon Targaryen VI crowned as King of Westeros. Furthermore, as more of the story is revealed in a more indepth OOC page, should enough interest come to fruition, players are more than welcome to participate in key events in history that lead to the games start.
House Baratheon: Survived via the return of Edric Storm, who was legitimized at the behest of Queen Shireen Baratheon.
House Arryn: Robert Arryn mysteriously died... thus Harrold the heir took his place, and married Sansa Stark. Littlefinger?
House Stark: Good old Davos Seaworth brought Rickon back from Skagos, and King Stannis restored him to his rightful seat.
House Tyrell: Willas survived the sacking of Highgarden, and your line of pretty flowers descends from him.
House Lannister: Martyn, son of Kevan, is your source of golden haired fun.
House Tully: Restored to Riverrun via King Aegon VI, Edmure and Roslin are your main bloodline.
House Harlaw: Stannis burned Theon as a sacrifice, Asha was married off, and King Aegon named Harlaw the new Lord Reapers.
House Martell: Arianne and all her womanly charms. You get to choose your paramour, and the rest.
House Florent: They lost Brightwater Keep, them darn Tyrells. However, Queen Shireen granted them Tarth, as old Lord Selwyn left no heirs.
House Targaryen in the North: What, what is this? Jon Snow (Jaeharys Targaryen) leaves the Night's Watch after being murdered, and subsequently resurrected by Melisandre. He goes on to marry Val, sister of Dalla, and by decree of King Aegon, rules over the Gift. ((He pays his taxes to the Night's Watch, rather than to the Iron Throne.))
House Connington: Lands and wealth restored, along with being lords again. Thanks Aegon VI.
House Redfrey: Emmon Frey and Genna Lannister, after losing Riverrun, take the lands of Castamere as their own. Rolph Spicer dies tragically fighting for Queen Cersei.
House Frey of Darry: The bastard is never legitamized, with the lands of Darry now ruled by the children of Amerei Frey and Lyle Crakehall.
House Frey of Rosby: Olyvar Frey takes the lands of his distant kin, having already been there as the late Lord Rosby's ward.
House Frey of the Crossing: A localized civil war breaks out over the rule of the Crossing when old Lord Walder dies. However, outside help comes from the Vale, as the Waynwood Freys get family blood line support. They end up removing Black Walder Frey from power and his allies, turning them over for the King's Justice for their role in the Red Wedding. ((Walton Frey and Deana Hardyng bloodline rule now - Steffon, "Fair" Walda, and Bryan Frey.))
House Hornwood: Restored via the bastard, Larence Snow being legitimized.
Other Houses that are not extinct, but lost lands due to the war: Within reason, they are returned their ancestral lands.
Extinct Houses: War is bloody and brutal, and sometimes, certain Houses go extinct due to their black reputation. House Karstark ceases to be ((1. Replaced by House Thenn, and also because Stannis burned a whole bunch of Karstarks for his Red god. House Bolton is a goner, with both Roose and Ramsay dying on the field of battle, and Walda Frey giving birth to a daughter, furthermore, its lands are no more, having been divided among the neighboring lords. House Greyjoy is a goner too, replaced with House Codd ruling Pyke now. House Clegane is dead... etc. You get the point, a number of Houses went the way of the Hoares, nothing but ashes. Applying for these houses will not be options, not even some random bastard, copy. Most other houses are open for talking points due to the precedence of player autonomy.
Historical Casualties: Aegon VI did not take control of Westeros with some ink and a signature. Many a man and woman died in that war, fighting for their respective sides. Members of the Golden Company, Margaery Tyrell in the Sept "fire" along with other Tyrell's ((At the player's discretion)), Stannis Baratheon at the Wall, etc, etc. Basically, if a character doesn't make much sense living past their necessary footprints, they're probably dead. Discussions will be open, but remember convincing arguments are as good as Valyrian steel. ((Most folks are dead by now anyhow, due to the timeline.))
Kingdom of Komentiolos, Tarsus, Imperial Parade Grounds - The Sun Rises
The crowded masses grew quiet as the king took the raised dais, his military uniform simple and fitting for the occasion. His officers and advisors stood beneath the dais, their uniforms no more regal than his own. Across his chest, medals and campaign ribbons earned honorably and rightfully, bought and paid for with blood and sweat from his youth. He wore no wig, no fashions of the West, he dressed himself of antiquity, of the old Empire. In his right hand, an old and worn baton was held, passed down for generations to its next rightful commander. Here, before all the men and women summoned to the great Imperial Parade Grounds, stood a military commander, and not some pompous, braggadocios, sovereign of the West. All eyes were now upon him, soldier and citizen alike, looking to him for what was to happen next. Taking a final breath, the king began to speak, knowing what he said would echo across the realm for decades to come.
"My people... Sons and Daughters of Komentiolios... For many years, we have been a broken empire: fragmented, oppressed, and conquered by those we sought to escape. Thirteen Hundred years ago, our forefathers stood against the collapse of the West, watched as our brothers and sisters, our kin of the West, fall into chaos. We stood tall in those dark times, as the world descended into darkness. The barbarous hordes the poured across the plains and forests and mountains of the former Imperial holdings were endless. How many tens of thousands, hundreds of thousands of anguished souls came begging before our very doors, crying out for sanctuary and salvation. We granted them that, we spilt our blood and sweat for them, from the fabled expeditions of antiquity, the incursions and raids against the hordes of teeming chaos roiling before our very borders. And yet, even with all we sacrificed, the honored dead of old, we did not flinch before our sacred duty to defend civilization. We have stood for a thousand years and more as the beacon of hope, of civilization, the shield and sword the guards the realms of men against all who would seek to envelop the world in perpetual darkness. And yet now, as we stand upon a knifes edge, the very descendants of those we saved, plot against us.
My father asked for time, and that time was granted by you. You: the strength in my arm, the holders of our people’s dreams… long ago, as our foes raged all around us, we were forced to abandon our far flung territorial holdings, the greatest sacrifice in the history of mankind. A sacrifice for freedom, Komentiolos became that freedom. Our new realm was smaller, which forced change upon us all. At first, it weakened us, but in fact, we were growing stronger. In the time since our great sacrifice, our great realm has been reborn anew, regaining our divine strength, earning our rightful pride! The turn cloaks of old were exiled and driven from our lands, their tainted views expunged from our way of life. We gained new insights into who we were, and who we are now. On this day, those driven to divide us will here one united voice, one united people. On this day, we shall act as one, and we shall be ignored NO MORE! Defenders of civilization, sons and daughters of Komentiolios, now is our time!”
The crowd roared with approval and applause, both the soldiers and citizens joining in as one resounding voice. The king stood there, gauging their reaction for a long time, taking his time in breathing deeply and slowly. Soon, there was his opening once more, and he continued speaking, his booming voice carrying across the great stone venue.
This much I vow: The history of these days will be written in blood. We so graciously offered peace to our enemies, so humbly held aloft the olive branch, only for those very same foes to savagely grip a dagger in one hand and hold a venomous snake in the other. They sought to poison our minds at home, with fear and mistrust, but they did not succeed. Instead, they so cowardly instigated rebellion in our colonial holdings, in Aegyptus. They hoped to snuff out the flame of civilization abroad, in the vain hopes of such a dastardly attack would hurt our own moral and courage. No… by crushing the armies of our enemy, by seizing the weapons they thought to turn against us, we are fighting for our very existence. Those who would deny us peace; refuse us our rightful place in the world, then we will unleash such terrible vengeance that generations yet unborn will cry out in anguish! The enemy may shatter our bodies, but they cannot break our spirit. Even now they advance upon our borders, to seize by force what they cannot claim by right. They cannot imagine what awaits them. We will smite the invaders from our seas, our beaches, our home! Though they will try and sweep over our lands like the sands of winter, never again will we bow before them; never again endure their oppression; never again endure their tyranny. We will strike without warning and without mercy, fighting as one hand, one heart, one soul. We will shatter their dreams and haunt their nightmares, drenching our ancestors' graves with their blood. And as our last breath tears at their lungs; as we rise again from all across our lands... they will know: The East belongs to the Komentiolians."
Once again the crowd cheered, the roar so deafening that it could be heard for miles around. The king smiled at that, standing before his people, his comrades, knowing that if there was not to be peace, then there would be war, a war that the foes of Komentiolios would not be ready for. He looked down to his generals, the officers and admirals, strong hard men who all would fight to the bloody end if need be. There would be no peace with the West, with Khazaria, with all those who sought to usurp the rightful rule of Komentiolios.
King Nikolaos sat idly at his desk, reading over dispatches from the front lines, messages from foreign courts, letters from the nobility and his brother from Aegyptus, yet, all of this was so far away at the moment. He looked up from the small mound of papers and scrolls, looking upon his pregnant wife. He smiled at her, watching her sleep in the early morning sunlight that peaked its way through the lacquer screens before the windows. 'Soon, soon you will have our child in your hands my love, we will both be able to lay our eyes upon this blessing from the gods and love our child with our own eyes.' He thought to himself, before looking back towards the Eastern horizon. The sun was rising slowly, perhaps an hour at most past dawn, but this would only bring more duty to honorably reign over. Rising, Nikolaos strode over to a stone basin of pleasantly cool water, splashing his face and neck with it, washing away the sting of not enough sleep and other worldly burdens. "Sleep well my love, sleep as much as you can." Nikolaos kissed his wife's forehead, before making his way to the council chambers elsewhere in the castle.
-- Many hours later... -- "Yes... yes, see to it Valentinian..." King Nikolaos spoke in a tired exasperated tone. He leaned back into his chair, rubbing his eyes absentmindedly. He had spoken at length to the diplomats of the "Western Alliance", what little good that had done. They were all perfumed and polite, no doubt, speaking of peace, of promises, and veiled entreaties, but Nikolaos had seen through that facade. Beneath all the courtly niceties, their manner spoke volume, 'We lack a spine, we former provinces of the Old Empire, we come before you great king, to grovel in the dirt like maggots before the dreaded enemies of old. Make peace with Khazaria, oh yes, let us bend the knee to the Khazarian Horse Barbarians and the guttural clicking.' It sickened Nikolaos to no end, seeing what centuries of stagnation had done to Europe without the illumination from Imperial rule.
"You can not blame them, your grace..." Valentinian spoke softly as he returned. "They are ignorant of the centuries our people have served as the bulwark against the encroachment of the Eastern Steppe Barbarians. The Western Alliance diplomats, the are like children wearing their grandfather's clothing and armor..." He sat down at the kings side, pouring a glass of wine for them both.
"I will blame them Valentinian, the craven curs, the whole lot of them. They come to my hall, partake in my hospitality, and have the audacity to tell me to put my sword down, turn our musket and cannons to plows." He took a long sip of his wine. "A pox and plague on them all. I have half a mind to just abandon the writhing and festering lands of Western Europe to the barbarians, let them thunder across their lands... what little good that would do." Sighing, he leaned back in his chair, adjusting his clothing to better lay upon his body.
"Of course your grace... but again, what can you expect from men who've grown up never knowing the true fear of chaos, of the barbaric encroachment of those horse lovers..." He smiled bemusedly at the joke, before turning to look out the windows. "At least our letters and riders sent out have born fruit, your grace. The Northern Kingdoms, those wreathed in snow and ice and hard times, they have a mutual interest in joining the fight. Your grace, I advise you in this, formally meet with those kingdoms, find some pretense to have them gathered, and invite them to join the war. They too know what the barbarians are capable of... and they too have the spine and stomach to fight against them."
King Nikolaos sat quietly, thinking as Valentinian had spoke. There was merit to what he said, yet, what to do about the Western Alliance. Two more glasses of wine were drank and poured before Nikolaos spoke. By then, a few additional advisors had arrived to sit in council with the king. And to this, the king and his council began to draft up the next steps they'd take to stand ever proud against their ancestral foe.
The Western Alliance: Placate the diplomats for the time being. Wine and dine them, trying to make them see the folly of making peace with the Khazarians. Listen to what they have to say, all the while doing all we can to delay their return to the West. Even if these diplomats return to their kings and lords empty-handed, delaying their return buys Komentiolos more time to strengthen its position against Khazaria.
The Northern Kingdoms: The Kingdom of Dorist, The Kingdom of Fosbak, The Kingdom of Orvag and The Empire of Stabuga, are asked to meet formally, a neutral location, to where a new alliance can be crafted and formalized upon, in which their strength and power is lent to the war efforts against Khazaria and its satrapy's. They are seen as equals, men worth breaking bread with and drinking with. King Nikolaos sends his best diplomats to continue working on striking a deal with these proud and powerful nations. Only together, as one unilateral alliance, can we all stand up to the threat posed by Khazaria, and the looming shadow of the cowardly Western Alliance.
Aegyptus and the Rebels:
Control over the Nilus river is paramount to control over the region. Continue as previously ordered, the military crackdown of the rebel nomads and their ilk will not lighten up until the attacks Komentiolian soldiers, property, and allies, ceases. Furthermore, village leaders and nobles, to include Arcadius, are brought before a number of destroyed towns, and shown first hand the price of defiance and treason. The message is clear, either you start toeing the line, enforce the laws of the Kingdom and stand against the rebels, or more of this will continue to happen until there are no rebels left. The old ways had been forgotten, but not any more, the turnings of the clock and will of the gods, pointed towards something that this region had not seen in over a millennia, a Caesar.
Supply and Demand: With their own navy still a shadow of its former self, Komentiolos continues to provide logistical support to the allied navies of Reria and Kalseran. Furthermore, along this vein, Komentiolos focuses on ensuring that enough food is being produced to feed its armies, with edicts issued out detailing the turning of large scenic gardens and other untilled land towards farming. Prison populations across the realm are turned over to more useful ventures than making big rocks into smaller ones. They are press into farming chain-gangs to help boost agricultural output.
Member
CaptainBritton
