dimma

You win, or you die

“Quite a sizeable army”, Harden whispered to his sister as the caravan of men passed by them. In fact, it was not particularly impressive compared to the Tyrell armies, so Harden was quick to alter his statement. “For such a small house”, he added, thinking of his own house’s small, almost non-existent forces. Living in the Red Mountains, the Santons lacked the resources to amass large armies. Instead, they relied on their cunning and wit to nestle themselves into the Dornish politics. The two siblings watched the army march by, but made no effort to make themselves seen or heard. Instead, they started slowly moving toward House Tilden’s castle, urging their horses slowly forward. A light breeze caressed the grassy fields, providing a much needed break from the scorching sun rays above their heads. Being from Dorne, one could assume that the siblings were used to the heat - but living in the mountains was cooler than living in the Dornish desert, so they welcomed the wind.

“We should investigate whether Lord Tilden and his family have left, or whether they are staying”, Eira told her brother. For a couple of minutes, they debated whether they should travel beyond Carsley Keep and gather more information about the rest of The Reach, but both of them were tired after days on horseback and needed something else to do than rushing across The Stormlands and The Reach, watching armies march them by. “If they remain in the keep, we can pray to the gods that they will let us know what their plans are… or at least let us know what plans they know others to have.”

Harden found it difficult to argue against Eira’s reasoning, so they soon found themselves close enough to Carsley Keep to see its walls rising above their heads, blocking the sun slowly descending from its highest point in the sky. It was afternoon, perhaps even nearing the end of the afternoon, when they rode up to the gates of the castle and declared who they were.

“Harden and Eira of House Santon in the Dornish Red Mountains”, Harden proclaimed with a loud and deep voice to the guards. “We are the children of Lord Elden, and we are here to meet the Lords and Ladies of House Tilden”, he continued, watching the guards with a furrowed brow. Eira knew the look - it was the look of her brother as he tried to make the impression of a great and powerful man. He sure could look the part, with his dark looks and tall stature, but knowing her brother made his impression less… impressive. Harden was a skilled rider and a great swordsman, but he was less of a politician who visited the houses of great nobles. Not that anyone from the Santon family was, but Eira liked to think that she was blessed with more of diplomatic skills than the rest of the family. Still, she kept silent. She knew that the rest of the Seven Kingdoms were not like Dorne, where she was born with more rights than most other women in all of Westeros. Most guards would not appreciate a woman shouting her demands to meet the noble lord of a house, so for now, she left Harden to speak.

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You win, or you die

Being the impulsive man he was, Lord Elden did not take long before sending his children and men out across Dorne and the Stormlands to gather more information. He did not take long to decide that he actually liked that Joffrey Baratheon was a Lannister bastard. Like his children, he saw King Robert Baratheon's death for what it was - an opportunity for change across all of the Seven Kingdoms. A change that, if they played their cards in the right manner, would be in their favour.

The Red Mountains, where the Santon family resided, was surrounded by either Dornishmen, officially alleging with the bastard king Joffrey, or supporters of house Baratheon from the Stormlands or The Reach. As the news spread that most men of The Reach would side with the popular Renly Baratheon, both Eira and Harden were sent to investigate the armies and supporters that the young Baratheon had managed to amass. Lord Elden had sent his two children alone, without neither armies nor men to support them. Not only because of Lord Elden’s lack of impressive Santon armies, but also because the two siblings would be fast enough to reach the lands of the Tyrells to see what armies they had gathered in order to return to the Stormlands in time to meet Lord Renly before his armies reached him.

"Brother, tell me", Eira shouted as they pressed on across the Stormlands into the Reach on their swift, Dornish horses. "Do you think father would like to side with the young Lord Renly?"

"I think he would side with anyone should the Lord give us what our father wants", Harden replied sourly. They had travelled without many necessary breaks for a very long while, and Harden's weariness started to show. In reality, Harden believed that his father would only manage side with whichever King he chose for a short while, before the King would lose House Stanton's sworn allegiance and favour. "Come on, press on. The sooner we're there, the better."

"Listen!", Eira exclaimed. Harden halted suddenly, and stared intensively at his sister stopping by his side. Focusing on the sounds he could hear in the distance, he furrowed his brows. Eira shielded her eyes against the gazing sun, and looked towards the lands from which the sounds seemed to come from. The occasional shouting, a loud cheer and rhythmic stomping resonated throughout the humid thickness of the late summer air. "It sounds like... an army. Are we this near Highgarden already?"

"We should be in The Reach, yes", Harden answered thoughtfully. "But not that near Highgarden, not yet. If the Tyrells did not decide to march this way, it must be someone else's forces."

Deciding to investigate from where the sounds came, the two Santon siblings urged their horses forward. After a few minutes, they saw the mass of a smaller sized army approaching in the distance, and beyond, a castle flying banners of a golden peacock resting on a field of teal.

"Carsley Keep", Harden said quietly to himself as the two slowly rode forward. "Seat of the House Tilden.”

He did not know much about the house, despite their banners and supposed alliance with the Tyrells, an alliance which they clearly seemed to honour. That was, if they were indeed marching to support Renly Baratheon.

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You win, or you die

As Lord Elden stood in his chambers, he watched the Dornish marches stretching all across the Stormlands to The Reach through the small windows carved out of the red stone of his castle. Beyond this vast landmass lay the rest of the Seven Kingdoms, kingdoms that would soon come to know that their rising King had no claim to the Iron Throne upon which he sat. In his younger days, before Robert Baratheon had usurped the throne, Elden would have been sure that no Lord in all of the Seven Kingdoms would kneel before a bastard king. Of course, being from Dorne, Elden did not truly care for such trivial matters as legitimate or illegitimate children and heirs. He was not foreign to bastard children, having one or two of his own spread throughout Dorne. What irked him was that if the new King was born out of wedlock, he would be of Lannister blood and under Lannister protection, unless some noble Lord stepped up and claimed to be a father of the boy. If Elden had outlived the Targaryen dynasty and the Baratheon reign, he would ensure that the Lannisters would not last long enough to outlive him either.

In the hall where Lord Elden had left his daughter and her news without a word, Eira remain positioned on the cool stone floor, still catching her breath from the intense ride through Baratheon's Stormlands. Her eyes, seemingly expressionless, were fixed on the spot where her father had stood before storming away to his own privacy. She had not known whether the news would please her father, and judging from his reaction she still did not know. Eira sighed heavily before hearing footsteps approaching down the hall. If it was her father’s, he had recovered from the news quickly, for the steps were lighter and brisker.

”Sister!”, a voice broke the silence of the hall where she sat. As Eira turned around, her older brother seized her by the waist, not all too gently. Although the two legitimate Santon siblings were very alike, both in manner and appearance, Harden rarely showed the same soft affection for his sister that was often seen between brothers and sisters farther north in the Seven Kingdoms. Treating her like the brother he never had, he patted her heavily on the back before retreating to a distance to look at her. Both Eira and Harden greatly resembled their passed mother in appearance, a fiery Roynish woman with jet black hair and olive skin tanned under the rays of the Dornish sun. The only sign that told of their father’s claimed descent from the First Men of Dorne was the blue eyes they had inherited from their father. ”It took you quite some time to return.”

Once more, Eira sighed heavily before telling the news of King Robert’s death and the alleged heir claiming the Iron Throne to her brother.
”But Eira, my sister, those are great news”, he exclaimed. ”Tell me, how did the old man react?”

Harden could barely hide his excitement at the prospect of a young bastard boy of Lannister descent claiming the throne. He provided the exact reaction as his sister had wished from her father, namely the reaction of someone who directly saw the golden opportunity at hand. If the young boy was indeed illegitimate, no Lord would pledge their swords to protect the King. If that was so, the Seven Kingdoms were at their most fragile state. After Eira told Harden of their father’s reaction, Harden shook his head.

”He knows what we know”, he said. ”If there was ever a moment when the Seven Kingdoms could fall apart, it would be now. Soon he will be back in this very room, and you know what that means.”

The two siblings looked at each other before exchanging devious smiles. Perhaps the time had finally come.

You win, or you die

Carved out of the sunburnt rocks of the Red Mountains, Eldfall castle overlooked the vastness of the Dornish marches facing the western Stormlands, and beyond, the Reach. Located between the two main passes through the mountains connecting the rest of the Seven Kingdoms to Dorne, the castle was conveniently located without being a place that saw many visitors, or, as the keepers of the castle would often call it, foreigners and intruders. Eldfall had belonged to House Santon since the arrival of the Andals had forced the family to retreat to the Red Mountains. As the Santons lost their influence over the deserts of Dorne, they built their dwelling well-hidden inside the Red Mountains. Watching the mountains from the distance of the Dornish marches, the castle was seemingly invisible, looking like nothing more than a peak among many others. The cool air and humid darkness of the castle’s insides protected the family against the heat of Dorne, while the outside had protected them against invaders and foreign armies. Inside the peak was a myriad of halls and corridors, where the proud family had chosen to remain hidden from the rest of the Seven Kingdoms.

The family was headed by Elden Santon, a man who never forgot how the Martells had driven his ancestors into the Red Mountains and then aligned themselves with King’s Landing to join the Seven Kingdoms. His affection for Prince Martell was strained, and the few times he had visited Sunspear he had quickly left, swearing that he would only remain sworn to the Martells for the sake of the protection of his own house and keep. Elden Santon claimed to be a descendant of the First Men who sat foot on Dornish land, and he did not like being forced to bend to the wills of newer, albeit nobler and more powerful, men. Like many Dornishmen, Elden Santon was both proud and hotheaded, a trait he had passed on to the both his firstborn son Harden and his daughter Eira.

Since Lord Elden was reaching an advanced age, he often let, in accordance with Dornish custom, both his son and his daughter travel across the Kingdoms to gather news for him. Although his castle was well-hidden, its vicinity to the major passes through the Red Mountains meant that he often received news from the rest of Westeros before many other of the houses in Dorne. One day, his daughter Eira came back from a ride through the Stormlands bringing news from King’s Landing. As she knelt before her father, out of breath and just recently off her horse, Eira told him the news that spread throughout Westeros.

“Father”, she began, not knowing whether the news would enrage or please his father. “There are news from King’s Landing. King Robert Baratheon, the Usurper, lies in bed before his death. There are preparations for his son Joffrey to succeed the throne.”

When Lord Elden did not reply, Eira continued.

“Mind you, this is only what I heard as I passed through the Stormlands. The Baratheons are preparing to seize the throne from his son. They believe…”, she stopped, catching her breath. “They believe that Joffrey is not the son of King Robert. They believe that he is Cersei’s bastard. Stannis and Renly Baratheon are...”

Enraged by the news that he was not only currently ruled by a usurper, but would soon be ruled by a Lannister bastard, Lord Elden left Eira before she had time to finish her sentence and retreated with proud, angry steps to his private chambers. First, his family had been forced hundred of years ago into the mountains by the Martells. Then, the Martells had allied themselves with the Targaryens, forcing the Santons to join the Seven Kingdoms as a part of Dorne. The throne had been usurped by the Baratheons, and now it was to be succeeded by the bastard son of that wretched Lannister woman? He could accept being a part of Dorne, where his family had lived for centuries before him, but being ruled by the greed of the Lannisters? Something had to be done… and it had to be done quickly.

You win, or you die

Haha here I accidentally posted the IC post. Anyway, dimma and eskimolander.

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So hello everyone!

After I finally finished school, I now have a whole summer to indulge in what I love the most - writing! I generally prefer quite realistic, gritty plots with lots of drama, but if fluffy things are you thing, then I could do that as well. I usually play females if that is of any importance to you!
I like at least one to two paragraphs worth of text. I appreciate more, but I accept less as I understand that it can be hard from time to time. Other than that, I don’t really have any rules, except perhaps that it would be nice of you could post quite often, at least a couple of times a week. I'll try to post every other day, perhaps more. With the boring stuff out of the way - let's get started!

I had a couple of cravings:

- in a Game of Thrones-esque society, not necessarily supernatural, medieval or anything like the original, but a society built on several houses ruling different parts of a country, but all adhering to one king/dictator, a rebel group forms to bring the upper classes down and take the crown. As I said, this could be any time, any place (medieval to modern day), all that is important is the world and the characters we create together.

- anything historical, from Viking age to Tudors to Victorian to 20th century. I'd be willing to try my hands on anything, whether made up or historical (but I prefer mostly original characters!)

- I’d be really happy to play something noir in a 20th century setting as well, anything from the Edwardian era to the seventies. I looove good crime role plays. And apocalyptic ones too.

Other than that, I’m interested in role playing any plot or a pairing that both of us like. As I said, the important thing is that we develop it together, so that both of us feel strongly about the role play.

Please feel free to PM me if you’re interested, or if you have any ideas on your own. I generally don’t really do fandoms, and especially not with original characters, but if you can convince me otherwise, I’m pretty much up to anything. :)

Looking for several role play partners!

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