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The Dance of Dragons - (ASoI&F) (GoT) - [Openly Recruiting]

(Boy, @MrDidact is everywhere these days. Thanks!)

How appropriate. Meeting in the dead of night. On a night like this, so dark that even a god cannot see the hatching of a perfect plot. Jon raised his lamp hand, and lifted it up, then down, in a line pattern. That was the signal. From here, there would be no going back till old Frados was fallen.

The streets were asleep, until suddenly several men in dark cloaks appeared out of the haze of the night, advancing steadily towards Jon until they were within clear speaking distance. Most of them dispersed, taking positions along the street while three made for Jon himself.

The man in the lead stopped short of the Roxton knight and threw back his hood, revealing an old knight. His black hair had gone mostly to grey, and his skin was wrinkled but he had the bearing and build of a lifelong soldier.

He nodded at Jon and his voice came out as a low baritone, "Thank you for meeting with me Ser Jon. No winesink, but we needs must stay away from prying eyes." He smiled then and said, "Within a month your cousin will be dead, and you shall be the Lord of the Ring. Now let us discuss details, shall we?"

"Well met, Lord Wythers. A fine night, heralding good times ahead," Jon responded, with a wicked smile. "You are a busy man, I'm sure. I shall try to preserve your precious time. Let us begin." His smile grew wider, looking for all the world as if a dagger had been laid across his face. "The Bushys have never been a major player in our little spot of the world. It has always been between the Roxtons and Wythers, battling it out through history to take control of land that is rightfully one, but has been split into three. I offer you an opportunity to change all that." Jon removed the satchel from his person, and began distributing papers among the Wythers people. "Maps of King's Landing, accurate as money can buy. Notes and plans, anticipating Frados' entry down to the count." He cannot tell if the Wythers agents approved, but their silence seemed to indicate for him to continue. "Frados is our lifelong enemy. Both of ours. He endlessly plots to steal the lives of noble Wythers, and he intends to find me right after. It is in our common interest, as well as the interest of the realm and the king, that he lay in the ground. Word is that his banners are raising, painted black."

Lord Wythers nodded, "He'll come down the roseroad with the rest of the Reachmen. We will have men watching him all the while. But we cannot strike until he and his entourage are to bed. We'll end his life while he sleeps. We can blame it on a peasant attack, with the tensions in the city. In the hustle of the King's funeral, we can pull this off in secret."

He grimaced then, "Any hate you have for Frados, I have it tenfold. I will gladly welcome his end, my only regret will be that I can't witness it myself. Then we may present ourselves as the loyal vassals of King Aegon."

Wythers crossed his arms, "We can announce your betrothal to my granddaughter. And your cousin Lindsay's betrothal to my grandson. We'll knit the houses together. And the Bushys will fall in line easily. Bend the knee to me and the valley will be ours."

"A deal then," Jon said, taking a bow before Lord Wythers. "My respects . . . I hadn't realized I was to meet with the new High Lord."

Wythers smiled and motioned for Jon to rise, "That is the plan, and with it we can finally put this feud to rest. Just enjoy the funeral festivities, and you can woo the young lady of the Ring to our side. And soon I can call you my grandson. I believe that's all, Ser Jon?"

"I see we are on the same page," Jon said. "I make for the Reach immediately, stopping not for rest. As you can imagine, I am eager indeed to return to my home. My castle. Goodbye for now, High Lord Wythers. I will see you again when I bend the knee." Jon took his fingers and squeezed the light in his lamp, plunging himself in dark.

Dragon's Mask

Riley immediately took off running for the elevator. With every hasty look over her shoulder, the water seemed to rear closer, while every look forwards seemed to tell her that the elevator was coming no closer. However, she didn't trust the Gold Lady, that she was sure of. Anyone who did must not have something completely right with them, either. If she allowed herself to be picked up by the mechanical fox, where would she land? In the water? Right into the lap of a monster? No, best rely on her own two feet for the time being.

The elevator flashed a brilliant red, inviting Riley in with its welcoming light. She was so close now, but a few steps back she swore water lapped at her heels. She couldn't even tell if her stockings were wet, in this hurry and sheer terror. Her mind shuddered, imagining why the locals were so afraid of the water. What could be in it? There were always stories in the newspaper, heralding sharks appearing dangerously close to the shores, and once there was a harrowing image that still haunted her nightmares today. What was in this water, in this land of fairies? A shark? Or something worse? Don't think. Just keep running, keep running, keep running . . .

Hospital of Fear (A Boogeyman Story)

Hmmm . . . if it's not too late, I am in fact somewhat interested in this.

Magic RP (Open to new players)

Rebat followed his host, occasionally having to run to keep up with the mount. His mind was somewhere else entirely. Mazdak almost seems afraid of the eventual meeting between him and this general Seleucus. Was it because of him? The kobold customs were often said to be far less formal, but Rebat had thought that everyone was quite civil in his last visit. Perhaps he needed to make a better effort this second time around.

The kobold army marched right through the gates of Hekaga, and poured into the city. Dracons, upon seeing them, kept a wide berth, and drew an invisible line between them and the army that none cared to cross. It was then that Rebat realized his mistake. Obviously, the dracons must think this an invasion, and he, like a fool, sent the army through to the city simply because the gate was open. He reminded himself that dracon ways required a bit more tact, and resolved to clear this up as soon as possible. "Wait here," he commanded, then crossed the invisible line towards the palace. "Pardon me," he said, as he approached dracons watching in suspicion and a bit of fear. This was unnecessary, though, as they all seemed to part, some of them even flinching back, to let him pass.

Quick as his warped legs can take him, he ascended the steps leading up to the palace. The sooner this incident is sorted out and the people pacified, the better. Last time he was here, he was expected to clean himself up and present formally before the court. However, this time it should be alright for him to go right through. They were familiar with him now, right? Armed with that thought, he pushed in the main door with a resounding screech, and found on the other side a sea of stunned faces. Oops. Did he misjudge something?

Magic RP (Open to new players)

Rebat took the scroll, nodding. "Nobody's easy," he said, mostly to himself. Least of all Merat, his old commanding officer. Merat was one who demanded too much, then became furious when not every single order was carried out to success. When the wars for Traeton came to a close, Rebat was given a promotion he could not refuse. He promised himself he would never act as Merat had. It mattered not that this Seleucus was no diplomat, nor did it matter that the soldiers following him were undisciplined and itching for a fight. With a sharp command, the columns of kobolds descended upon the city. Time to pay their respects to the Grand Prince.
_____________________________________________________
"Order! Order!" Came a shout from the front. Kutur craned his neck and looked up at the buildings around him. Mighty statues, endless columns and arches, a stained-glass dome above his head. Built, he knew, by a grateful Basileus to usher in the end of the suppression of magic in Constantsea. This was where the academy of scholars in the Bythesea Empire met, and where the archmages of old were buried, as the case is now. A slender, hunchbacked woman hobbled up to the front of the crowd. "Magisters, exarchs, and secular rulers! Today we mourn the loss of our greatest, our wisest, the Archmagus Lionus!" a mutter went through the crowd. Someone to the left of him, a Strategos of some sort, wiped a tear from his eye. "Tomorrow, our most harrowing choice will be made once again. All wielders of the three disciplines must now choose a new archmage. May the Titans guide your hand." With that, the crowd began to disperse.

"Alexius, a word," said someone, just as Kutur was about to leave. He turned, and saw one of the exarchs, a stern orc who always kept the library strictly enforced. "I trust you have contributed to our library, with all the wisdom you've seen." Kutur fumbled about in his robes, and eventually pulled out one of his books.

"This is one I wrote, exarch," he said, handing it over. "It details the rise of the Son of the Dragons from the far continent."

"I'm not familiar with any of that name," the exarch muttered, adjusting his spectacles.

"It's quite new," Kutur explained. "He was once in talks with the Basileus himself." The exarch nodded.

"I trust your word, Alexius," he said. "I wish you well on the far continent. I have not seen it like you have, but I am told there is much unexplored there, and many evils. I hear of great rebellions, and cities burning to ash." Kutur gulped. A lot of what he said sounded familiar. "But as I said, I have not seen it like you have. I encourage you to continue observing this Son of the Dragons. For history."

"I promise," Kutur said.

Magic RP (Open to new players)

Hey, I probably should have mentioned, but for the last 10 days I've been on vacation. I just returned now.

Dragon's Mask

Riley looked out to where the mouse Dooa's nose pointed. What she saw brought back the memories of her adventure. In so little time, less even than one day, she had seen so much. She remembered the devious Howl, who tricked her in that same elevator, or one close enough. She remembered the giant table, with the sickening monsters in an endless marathon of glut. She remembered meeting little Nina, as huddled and afraid as herself, and making that mad leap out of the clutches of the dining horrors.

Still, something had to be done about this Gold Lady dilemma. To kill her, first Riley must find her, and to find her, she needed to try her luck at one of those buttons again. The symbols meant nothing to her. She had never seen them in her life, even in the old books she devoured in her earlier days. They were fairy symbols that never escaped into her world. She had to decode them somehow, unlock their secrets, and bring them with her to Scalby.

"Come, Arthur. Let's go into that elevator," she said, pointing over to the focus of her thoughts. She hoped, on some level, that she would see Howl again. To talk to him or hit him, she had not decided yet.

Magic RP (Open to new players)

Three thousand clawed feet stamped at the ground in reasonable unison. It was impossible to drill true discipline into an army that had just picked up the concept not one year ago, but Rebat felt that he had done a well enough job. Three thousand helmets glittered in the blinding sun, their glare extending out for miles around them. No doubt the troops were feeling quite uncomfortable under there. Metal is said to trap heat like cloth, and scorch the wearer like fire. However, he knew for a fact that some of those helmets have deflected glancing blows from dracon spears, and one of them saved his life in battle against a Meratid, so he insisted despite complaints that his entire army would be thoroughly equipped with plate.

Slowly, once again, the mountainous walls surrounding Hekaga rose into view. Most of the soldiers were rural folk, either living among the secluded tribes of the north or in the households of dracon slaveowners on plantations. Such majestic walls stunned most of them where they stood. Even beautiful Traeton, with its cracks filled in with gold, seemed small and decorative compared to actual walls with might and purpose. Rebat halted the army, not that he needed to. Most of them wouldn't go forth anyways. However, this is where he must make his signal. With a bow in hand, he drew one arrow from his hip. A flathead, with a red scarf tied around the shaft. He drew back the bow and loosed, letting the red signal fly upwards for all the city's garrison to see. Soon, he shall meet the Hekaga general.

Game of Thrones : The Pact of Ice and Fire (Always Open)

William didn't trust this woman. She knew more than she was letting on, he was sure of it. More importantly, he didn't believe a single word she said. "You must be drunk, mad, or something worse," he said, upending a full goblet. "I had hoped my reputation preceded me, but perhaps I will have to explain to every single horsebreeder in the North that I am not stupid. Do you seriously expect me to just eat up whatever nonsense you toss at me?"

"I expect you to eat the truth," said Cathay, with a cold stare. This was her brother, that she knew, but she couldn't quite understand how. This was the rightful heir of the Dreadfort? He looked the part, but was as far from the majesty of their common fathers as it got. He was drunk and deranged, and couldn't tell his sister apart from any other woman in the whole of the Seven Kingdoms. She never knew her father, but she had read the old records of the Bolton family, stories of conquest and pragmatism, and neither of those words seem to apply to this last of the flayed men.

"If I may, brother, I am of the belief that this woman is who she claims. More than that, if she proves not, what have we to lose?" Arak chimed in. Cathay's steely gaze passed over to him. Another disappointment to the family, it seems. She had approached this one, in the hopes that he was more easily persuaded. Apparently, he was. In five minutes, she had Arak occasionally referring to her as 'sister'. Then there was his endless love for the enemy in Winterfell.

"I'll make the decisions here," William huffed, looking down at his cup. It was empty, because of course it was. There never seemed to be enough. He angrily slammed the goblet down on the table before him, trying to ignore the infuriating tag-team his twit brother seems to have made with the stranger. "I'll tell you exactly what we could lose, and exactly what is happening here. So let's say we let just about anyone into the family. Perhaps we think another claimant is not a problem here. She will stick around our castle, spending our reserves on frivolous pursuits, and then one day she'll find 'unfortunate' proof that her family doesn't include us. So she ambles off with all our money on her back, up to the Karstarks or Umbers or whoever else is up there, repeat process until rich!"

"I am Cathay Snow, daughter of Ramsay!" she shouted, standing up. "I am above such things! My fathers and their fathers are above such things!"

"Perhaps it would be best if we all rested a night before coming to a conclusion," Arak said, interrupting the two before they got physical. "Milady, allow me." Cathay shot one last glare at William, who was checking his cup again in case by some miracle he found it has filled itself up. Then she exhaled, and allowed Arak to lead her to the guest chambers. "Not to worry, sister. I'm sure I can talk him into the truth," he said, and left her alone. Cathay resisted the urge to throw one of the empty vases at the wall. A guest in her own home!

Magic RP (Open to new players)

Rughoi was pulled out of his thoughts by a brilliant light materializing right in the center of his meeting hall, looking for all the world like a tear in reality itself. He shielded his eyes from its blinding glow till it receded. When it was gone, Rebat stood in its place, already down in a kneel.

"Your Might, I bring good news," he said, with as much flourish as he could muster, holding out the sealed letter. Rughoi took it from his hand, then with one claw, broke the seal. His fingers were trembling as he read the letter, not able to hide his fear. He can't deny anymore that the powers that surrounded him were larger, crueler, and endlessly more powerful than he. Their demands he already knew would be unreasonable, but he would have to capitulate.

"Good news indeed," Rughoi muttered. The more he read, the angrier he became. But in that anger, an idea came to him, one that would hinge on the arrogance of the court of Hekaga and their disdain for the kobold forces. "There's no way out. I will have to honor our agreement. Rebat, you're our friend in their court. Bring with you three thousand legionnaires and send them back over to serve at the city of our new allies."

"But Your Might, that is no more than half of our whole army, probably less," Rebat said. He was never quick of mind, and he knew it, but he was beginning to catch on to the plan.

"They don't need to know that," Rughoi said. "March them around, flaunt their skill, make it look like that's our whole army. No doubt every dracon in this whole continent is sure we can barely scrape together a hundred. Now back to Hekaga with you, Rebat. Don't leave our friends waiting." Rebat bowed again, and left to assemble the army.