PUBLIC A Kingdom Reborn

Discussion in 'Open Roleplaying' started by Atem Lannister, Jun 11, 2019.

  1. Atem Lannister

    Atem Lannister First of His Name

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    It hadn't yet been a fortnight since he assumed the mantle of king. Half of the kingdom didn't recognize his rule, and the other half had been bought through coin or through marriage. Atem was the first Lannister to rule a semi-united kingdom for nearly a century, and though the transgressions of their ancestors had been largely forgiven, they remained forever etched in history.

    Though he sat on the throne, he had yet to officially don a crown. That would be the first step to legitimizing his rule, and it would provide a chance to bring his allies closer as well as new ones into the fold. He would be crowned within the fortnight, host a tourney to celebrate the reunion of the Westerosi kingdoms, and he would name his Small Council, which too had yet to be formed.

    Ravens would be dispatched to all constituent provinces of new Four Kingdoms, as well as those independent kingdoms which had yet to join and make it the reunified Seven Kingdoms. From the Eyrie to Highgarden, from Sunspear to Winterfell, all would be invited to take part in the new kingdom's inaugural tournament celebrating the coronation of King Atem of House Lannister, first of his name.

    To the winner? 20,000 gold dragons in jousting, and 10,000 gold dragons in archery. Coin aside, there were much more valuable prizes to be had...
     
  2. Aegon Velaryon

    Aegon Velaryon Lord of the Tides

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    A piece of parchment with King Atem Lannister's invitation lay across Aegon's desk in the cabin of his ship as it sailed en route to King's Landing. Being no fool, Aegon knew although the words invited was written on the parchment, it was in actuality, a summons.

    Ever since the plague crossed over from the mainland into his home of Driftmark, the island had been in a state of constant unrest which made him less than eager about the King's invite. While Aegon agreed that his reaction to the disease was harsh, he knew it was necessary.

    "How troublesome," he muttered when he thought about the trouble in Driftmark as he lay on his bed, lulled into a quiet slumber by the waves that gently rocked his ship.

    Knock. Knock. Knock. Aegon was interrupted from drifting off into a peaceful sleep.

    "What is it?" he called. The bed was too comfortable, he didn't want to move.

    "Lord Velaryon, we are approaching King's Landing," came the reply.

    "About time," Aegon sat up and made his way to his wardrobe to change to more appropriate attire to attend the King's Landing festivities.
     
  3. Eirik Greyjoy

    Eirik Greyjoy High King of the Iron Islands

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    Salt spray erupted off the curved bow of the longboat. The men inside snarling, grimacing, heaving on the oars. By the Drowned God they would make it. The seas had been rough, the weather rougher. From a drizzling rain on the day they'd set out from Pyke to the thunderous onslaught falling from the sky they'd braved the elements at their own . They were men of the sea, men of iron - they were Ironborn.

    The Iron Islands stood independent once more, forcibly pried from the grasp of the former Seven Kingdoms. At least, broken off as a piece of fragile limestone is cracked off from its rock. While the invitation to King's Landing may have been less that and more a summons, the High King of the Iron Islands went where he liked and appeared as he would - and though the Islands remained fiercely independent Eirik Greyjoy knew that to remain absent the tournament would have its own consequences. Independent Kingdom or not.

    "Row! Row you bastards!"

    A voice cut through the maelstrom, an intense shock of red hair appeared briefly as lightning illuminated the rolling waves, the man's eyes alight with fire. Egil the Red. A capable warrior, native of Blacktyde - born to the family of the same name. Not only a friend to Eirik but also a trusted advisor. His words seemed to inspire the men, the wild look in his eyes driving them harder on the oars.


    The Ironborn were on their way to King's Landing.

    ---
    They had begun as a flotilla of sixteen ships. The Iron Islands were renowned for their ships as much as their sea-bidden warriors, a testament to their survival over the long and arduous journey from Pyke to King's Landing. Only one ship had been lost to the sea, only a handful of its crew had been saved from the sea - those who had gone to the Drowned God's watery halls would be honored once they finished their journey.

    With the bulk of their travel behind them, the flotilla had passed into Blackwater Bay just before dawn. Now, upon the cusp of the horizon, a set of unfamiliar sails became visible. No less than a moment later a voice broke the relative silence of the morn. "Sails! Off the starboard bow!" What had been a docile and lethargic gait suddenly turned to a frantic squalor. With a clatter of feet and a cacophony of muted exclamations the crew of the vessel hopped to action. At the bow a set of watchers strained to see a flag, a sigil, or any identifying colors. At the bulkheads, men gathered sword, shield, and spear in hand. In these times, one could not afford to depend on luck to carry them through to their destination.

    Rising from his own seated posture, Eirik, High King of the Iron Islands stood upon the weathered deck of the wide long boat. Squinting he brought an open hand to his brow. Whomever it was on the horizon would have more than a match if it came to blows - more likely however, Eirik thought, it was to be more travelers on their way to King's Landing. At least, that's what their tack would suggest.
     
  4. Kelric Bolton

    Kelric Bolton Lord of the Dreadfort

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    The Starks were prideful, but they weren't stupid. Nothing bolstered national pride in the northern territories more than its own independence, and that's what they had. The Seven Kingdoms were a thing of the past, as was the Lannister-Stark rivalry. For decades, the Starks have been content to their rule in the North and the Lannisters were content enough to leave them to it. After all, to outsiders, the North was but a barren tundra that offered little beyond which Northern culture gave to it.

    When news broke that the young Lord Atem Lannister sought to reunite the Seven Kingdoms, there was an uneasiness felt throughout those which were once a part of it. Lannister allies and those who shared his vision joined, and soon thereafter one nation was larger than the rest. The Westerlands, Riverlands, the Vale, and the Stormlands all united, no single nation could stand against them. Fortunately, no side seemed eager for war - at least from Kelric's initial perspective. Sentiments might change in King's Landing.

    It was Kelric's first time to the south. He typically kept North, as more tropical climates didn't agree with him. He wondered why anyone in the North was invited at all, and even moreso why the Starks entertained the invite at all. The North was fiercely independent, and it only looked like the new Lannister king sought to coax them into his real. Whether the Lord Stark was sick or simply had no desire to go, it mattered not to Kelric, as he was chosen to be a member of the party representing House Stark at King Atem's coronation. It would too offer some strategic value.

    Setting sail from White Harbor, the small band of ships neared the capital. More and more ships came into view, along with the sigils on their flags. Kelric recognized the sigils of House Velaryon and House Greyjoy, both renowned for their prowess on the sea. Soon they would see the sigils of House Bolton and House Manderly, the houses chosen to serve as dignitaries of the North, and just as likely they would meet in person on the docks.
     
  5. Reynard Florent

    Reynard Florent Lord of Brightwater Keep

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    Following the assortment of ships which flew colorful banners from every which kingdom and county this side of the known world lumbered a fat yet uniform conglomeration of ships of the Reach. Each laden with various noble representatives, and more importantly, trade goods. With the declaration of unity, and the coming tensions, one could not miss this opportunity to fraternize, broker agreements, trade, and politic. Such events benefited all involved, if only to get to know the individuals you might call your enemy in the weeks to come.

    Upon one chartered ship, which trudged somewhere in the center of the convoy and flew the fox and flowers of Florent, did the Lord of Brightwater Keep dwell. Caught in between inebriation and sickness the man rose and fell with the ship, any manner of etiquette was lost when the next churning of the ship could cause him evacuate his lunch, and all the wine with it.

    Reynard was not a sailing man, or more accurately, in all his short summer years he was a passenger on a boat exactly twice. Their memories were not a comfort either as he had nothing but nausea to cherish then as well.

    He almost regretted coming, but the man wanted to see the faces and hear the motives of those who cried for unification. Acting as one of the representatives of the Reach, and the voyage at sea that came with it, were merely necessary evils.

    I wonder if I'll be able to participate in their little tournament, he mused. Knowing my luck there will already be some upstart champion with all the accouterments that come with it. The next Sword of the Morning perhaps.

    I should have brought cheaper booze. Reynard tugged on the lobe of his considerable ear, draining another bottle of vintage meant for trade or private meetings. Ah well.
     
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  6. Atem Lannister

    Atem Lannister First of His Name

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    The crowds had begun to funnel into the Red Keep, and King's Landing seemed busier than it had at any other point in Atem's short life. Sails of noble houses riddled the seas, and the bright colors of their clothes speckled the streets. It was quite a sight to behold. And they're all here for me, Atem thought with a brief grin of satisfaction. As a new royal, he'd yet to appoint his Kingsguard, so he'd be seen with the traditional red cloaks of the Lannister household guard. They're armor was less regal than those of the white cloaks, but they were distinct enough for others to see there was a royal presence.

    "Thank you for coming.", Atem said as he shook hands with some of the nobles entering. Commoners were welcome too, of course, but they typically kept away from the happenings of the rich and powerful, as they often found themselves facing injustice with no course for remedy. Still, they were welcome to spectate the tournaments as they may, as there was a bounty of bread and beer to go around; Nobles tended to stick to wine and meats anyhow.

    While it was important to solidify support amongst houses already pledged to the Crown, Atem believed priority sat with foreign relations, or rather, persuading other nations to rejoin what he hoped would become the Seven Kingdoms once more. It would be difficult to find them with all the constituent lords, knights, and ladies seeking a more formal introduction with the to-be king. While he was not personally averse to anyone he came to interact with, Atem found it hopelessly boring to endlessly greet guests, especially when he had his mind on something else.

    As he continued to shake hands and offer nods of greeting, he leaned over his right shoulder to find his brother, Jason. Jason was a knight and served as the castellan of Casterly Rock under their father the Lord of Casterly Rock, Gaius Lannister.

    "Find me some meaningful conversation before the jousting begins, please.", he pleaded. It wasn't common for someone in his position to make requests over demands, or to subject themselves to the will of others, but Atem shared a fair bond with Jason. With a chuckle and a pat on the back, Jason left his brother's side to do as he was asked. With a sigh and a faux smile, Atem continued to greet his guests.
     

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