Game of thrones roleplay

[eragong]

Nut let loose one final swing at the target; smashing it off of its base. He shouldered the swaddled mace and made his way towards the stands to wait for the melee to begin; eyeing the other competitors as he approached, watching the mountain cautiously. As he walked he passed several people, a squire preparing armor, a knight of the Kingsguard and several Lords and Lordlings.

[mrimatool]

The Broken Hammer

Michael nodded, "we'll laugh at their misery, my boy Duncan is participating today as well." Duncan followed Varane towards the stand where they were awarded a meagre but fair seat, across from the Hand's children, Sansa Stark and Arya. When he saw the girls his mind wandered to the trident, as he remembered the sounds of dying horses and screaming soldiers. When Michael saw Robert find Rhaegar Michael was quick to begin closing in on the Usurper. It was no use as no matter how many men Michael cut down with his hammer, Rhaegar was slain his body beaten and broken. When the Last Dragon fell, so did the loyalists. Many threw down their swords, many ran. Michael stood his ground but was captured soon after.

Game Master

Renly Baratheon stood as all the competitors and small folk gathered around the kings tent and stand. "Today I draw the names of the first bouts in the tournament.

Jory Cassel vs Horas Redwyne(Jory)

Ser Nathaniel of Tarth vs Harwin of Winterfell(Nathaniel)

Gordon Tulgrad vs Alyn of Winterfell(Gordon)

Ser Duncan Tulgrad vs Ser Meryn Trant

Ser Baelor Hightower vs Lord Bryce Caron

Ser Gregor Clegane vs Ser Hugh of the Vale

Sandor Clegane vs me!" Renly laughed and the crowd smiled as he feigned a worried face before continuing his list.

"Ser Jaime Lannister vs Ser Barristan Selmy

Ser Varane Ceval vs Ser Berric Dondarrion

Ser Loras Tyrell vs Ser Balon Swann" that's it for the beginning, I hope you stay around to watch me take down the hound!" The crowd were once again won over by Renly's winning charisma.

Edited June 25, 2015 by Guest

[Gollee]

"Ah shit..." Varane mumbled, "Forgot I put my name in... Ah well, just a lordling youngster, shouldn't be that hard to beat."

He gestured towards hs nephew, who dashed off to collect Varane's equipment. "Keep an eye on the girls, would you, Lord Tulgrad? I've got to go deal with Ser Sparky." With that, Varane jogged off towards the stables for his horse.

[Hackie]

Gregor Clegane

As Gregor left the tent, his squire following behind him, he searched the crowds, scanning each and everyone. Before locking eyes with the young squire, Aeron. He approached, his boots and metal clanking as dust kicked up from behind him and dirtied his squire's clothes. Gregor locked eyes with Aeron, and bent his knees. Even while his knees bent he still towered over the young squire. He slowly and somewhat quietly said, "Are you..." Gregor paused for a moment, looking the boy up and down he slowly slid his hand around his belt before feeling for his dirk and clutching it. Gregor continued, "...Ser Duncan Tulgrad's squire?"

Edited May 14, 2015 by Guest

[F_sphere]

Aeron became suddenly aware of a shadow overtaking his body. His eyes met with a metal-plated waist, and as his eyes traced up the torso he met the eyes of, yet again, Ser Gregor Clegane. Involuntarily he jumped, startled by the sight of the Mountain. He gulped, listening to the knight's deep voice before answering very meekly, "Y-yes, Ser, I a-am."

[Hackie]

Gregor Clegane

Gregor stared at the boy's face, his eyes beaming down on him. He drew his dirk from his belt, a large blade. For a normal man it would be a very large dagger or, a small sword but, Gregor carried it as if twas nothing. He slowly moved it under the boy's chin, lifting it slowly as it cut into his skin a little. Gregor then said, "Ah yes, well boy, Ser Duncan Tulgrad's armor will be a little more loose today, will it?" As he said it his squire pulled a coin purse and tossed it onto the ground, making a satisfying clinking sound. Gregor continued, "Or, if it's... satisfactory a certain squire may disappear today, the alleys are dangerous and it would not be unheard of for a ruffian to slit a green boy's throat and rob him to the bone."

[mrimatool]

The Broken Hammer

Michael nodded to his old friend before turning and smiling kindly at the two Ceval girls as he turned to the dusty lists.

On the right was Jory Cassel, a northerner with long black hair and a wispy beard. His gear was rather un-impressive as he carried a plain lance and a shield bearing the grey field decorated with the Ten white wolf heads of House Cassel.

The only other Cassel Michael had known was Ser Rodrik a man who Michael fought in single combat on the trident. Ser Rodrik fought Michael for ten minutes before he was hit with an arrow from a Rosby soldier. But, those ten minutes were one of the few reasons Michael couldn't get to his king.

Opposing Jory was Horas Redwyne a slightly portly man with ginger hair and a square face.

Within a second the herald blew a horn and the two men began to charge, Jory couched his lance and before Horas could lift his shield the Northerner had knocked him off his horse. Horas yielded in seconds.

The Stag's Hammer

Duncan watched the joust from the perch of his horse as he awaited his squires return, he had a fairly simple opponent, Ser Meryn Trant, Duncan had always liked his crude sense of humour however and the two enjoyed friendly banter in their service to the king. However, Duncan relished in the idea of humiliating him and getting a chance to joust Barristan 'The Bold' and win him and his house some real glory.

[Gollee]

Varane donned his equipment, with Golthis' help; while watching the first joust, frowning slightly as the Northerner defeated the Highgarden-bound lord easily. "Bloody Southerners and bloody Northerners, aren't I glad to be a midlander now... Or an islander... Not really sure."

Golthis tightened the straps of Varane's armour, "Islander."

Varane grinned, "Right, at least I am not a Northerner or Southerner."

[eragong]

Nut strode towards his arming tent and brushed through the flaps; beyond his squire had begun preparing his armor. " Ready?" Nut asked quietly,

" yes ser" the young boy said hurrying over with a huge breastplate. Nut knelt down and allowed the squire to affix the armor to his chest followed by the backplate and spaulders. Nut the stood up and the squire attached his greaves and boots. "well fitted squire" Nut said as he walked from the tent the his lance over his shoulder and the mace, still wrapped, on his back.

[mrimatool]

The Broken Hammer

Harwin of Winterfell rode out onto the dust, he was donned in the usual boiled leather armor of a guard of Winterfell and his gear was even more sub-par than Jory's. As he struggled to get his horse into gear the herald called the second name "Ser Nathaniel of Tarth!" And the crowd awaited the man. Michael had seen him in the yard previously and more than expected that the almost brutish man would be terrible on a horse.

[F_sphere]

Aeron gulped loudly, and he could feel sweat pouring from his forehead.

"B-but... Ser... that would be dishonest!" he urged in a whisper. The knife began to press harder into his throat, slicing into the skin. He looked down to see a drop of dark red blood fall onto the dirt beneath him.

"Yes S-Ser... something will go wrong..." he stuttered.

[eragong]

After donning his armor Nut strode out of his tent and mounted his destrier, and once mounted on the vast horse he took his lance and rode out onto the tourney field.

[mrimatool]

Game Master

Hawin's rough look catches the attention of a few of the more, experienced ladies in the stands. He trots in circles, demonstrating his riding prowess. His rough boiled leather armor and wooden lance with him the entire time, before he turns to face the Knight of Tarth.

The herald quickly calls "Ser Nathaniel of Tarth against Harwin of Winterfell!" he barely finished before Harwin had spurred his horse into action and couched his lance.

The Broken Hammer

Michael watches in splender as the two men ride towards each other. "Oh god that Northerner is in for a surprise if this goes to ground, that Tarth boy has fucking giants blood if I've ever seen it."

Michael's attention wanders as he sees his eldest son, a knight of the kingsguard awaiting his squire just a few metres away from the lists. Michael had never been prouder, but due to his son's skill with a warhammer Michael had lost his best heir and forced to defer to his fanatic son who left to join the Night's watch. Bryant hadn't been seen since he left and no letters had been sent. That left Silar and Gordon. A warrior and a boy. Silar didn't much enjoy ruling and had had his fill of it while ruling Lion's grave and Gordon wasn't as strong as his brothers. Michael's only daughter Jennifer was pretty much gone as well, a handmaiden to Margery Tyrell no doubt she'd marry some Reach Knight, although she'd always had a fiery defiance in her.

The Dragon of Driftmark

The khalasar was just a few miles ahead of the Knight but that wouldn't stop them, on their horse they trotted rather slowly. The Knight didn't want to be caught in the middle of the horde and would rather stay behind, following them secretly. The Knight had grown far too warm, wearing their armor in the Dothraki sea was a different kind of death wish to not wearing it. Growing tired of the heat the knight swiftly removed her helmet, revealing her silver Valryian hair tied up in a bun. Her cold purple eyes surveying the plains for any sight of the one she might serve. Her sword swung on the horse saddle and she trotted along, putting her helmet in her saddle bag.

[Hackie]

Gregor Clegane

The Mountain's eyes were un-moving, and for a few moments he looked at the frightened boy's eyes. His face was stern, it did not show any particular emotion. He slowly withdrew the dagger, and slid it into his belt with a quiet rasp. He then walked away from the scared squire, Joss Stillwood followed behind him. Gregor had done his part, but another one must die. Ser Hugh of the Vale knew too much, he was far smarter than the Mountain expected. His death would take far longer, Gregor expected to find him at the tourney, an easier way to silence the fool. Joss meekly piped out a few quiet words, "S-ser Gregor, wh-where are we going-going?" Gregor abhorred his tendency to fear him more so than his enemies, and responded mockingly, "Joss, we are simply heading to the tavern to grab a pint of ale before the tournament, or are you so dimwitted you can not-" With a small whiz he felt the soft plop of dung hitting his armor. Gregor looked speechless for a moment, as he glanced at a small boy no younger than seven. The Mountain roared as he drew his sword and began chasing the small boy through the alleys.

Sandor Clegane

Sandor grunted as he felt the straps of the breastplate being tightened across his chest. The armor's weight felt cumbersome, yet it comforted Sandor. He had most of the torches in the basement darkened. As the helmet clanked on he was lightly helped up from the stool by a servant, and he slowly began walking the steps to the sweet-smelling kitchen. He walked clanging about as servants gave him looks of fear, disgust and indifference.

[eragong]

(written by Gollee for me)

Nut watched his opponent, Ser Harwin enter the jousting field; the young man looked startled by the sheer mass of his opponent. Silently, Nut brought his lance into the striking stance, holding the long wooden rod steady as he waited for the bugler's call.

Once the call came, the two knights thundered down the field, Nut’s destrier vastly outweighing the smaller mare of his opponent.

The first impact was swift and deafening, both lances shattering against the other’s shields. Ser Harwin barely managed to keep his seat as the momentum of the charging warrior struck him through the lance; but he swiftly regained his balance, circling around the jousting field, snatching up a second lance from his squire. Nut did the same.

The second collision was more eventful, Ser Harwin, already staggered from the first impact was thrown from his horse in a hail of splinters, while his lance shattered harmlessly against the heavy set form of the Tarth knight.

With his opponent aground, Nut slowly dismounted, his large form ungraceful when it came to the more delicate motions of horse riding. By the time he was on foot, with mace in hand, Ser Harwin had regained his feet, raising his sword in a defensive stance as he circled Nut.

Nut swung his mace several times around his head before beginning to step forwards, letting the momentum of the mace pull him around the field as he brought it down to chest height, spinning it with great force. As Nut approached Harwin, the ill-prepared knight darted in under the swing of the mace, slashing at the armour of his larger opponent, but the blows simply slid off of the thick plate. Nut, noting now that his opponent was within his reach, brought his mace around,colliding with the side of Harwin’s torso with a dull thud, sending him spinning to the ground. Immediately, Nut walked up to him, planting his foot on the chest of the winded knight. “Yield.”

[mrimatool]

((Harwin isn't a knight, but a winterfell guardsman.))

Game Master

Harwin twitched, gasping for air. Gripping the giant knight who had bested him. Nathaniel's mace blow had struck him in the chest, and as Harwin wasn't wearing plate armor his ribs had caved into his lungs. Harwin drew his last breath as he gargled blood staring at the steel giant who had killed him, his hands didn't let go of Nathaniel's shoulder after he had died and the crowd went silent, most wondering if the King would have Nathaniel taken, others wondering how long before the maester ran out into the field.

The Broken Hammer

Michael stood up quickly as he watched Nathaniel raise his mace "Don't hit him with that thing you fool, you'll kill him!"

Michael's outcry was drowned out by the crowd cheering. Michael sighed and sat down, before long the Knight had killed the guardsman and withering old Grand Maester Pycelle had limped over to the scene before standing up. "Ser Nathaniel of Tarth has slain Harwin of Winterfell in combat, how does the king judge him?"

Michael was perplexed, tourney's were often dangerous men died, Michael thought the knight had done it by accident and maybe he had, but that didn't matter when King Robert spoke up with his booming voice. "I hereby call forth anyone related to the fallen, so that they may decide the next step!", Robert seated himself as a small woman walked out.

"Y-your grace, I beg retribution for the murder of my husband, Harwin"

The crowd roared over any talks as they waited for a response from the steel clad giant.

[eragong]

Nut looked down at Harwin's crumpled form, his shoulders slumped. he looked towards Harwin's distraught wife "My lady, this was not my intention, I padded my mace against such an outcome, however it is for the king to decide the repercussion of this " he looked back towards Harwin " crime". Nut knelt on the ground facing King Robert " My fate falls to you my Lord, though I wish this Lady justice, whatever the outcome she and her children are to call on house Tarth should their need be great" With those words, Nut lowered his head to face the ground.

[F_sphere]

Aeron sunk to the ground, taking a deep gasp of air as he realized he had been holding his breath. He watched the Mountain stomp off, his pupils rising and falling to the beat of the beast's walking pace. He drew a heavy sigh, pushing himself up off the ground and wandering in search of Ser Duncan.

[Subdigital]

Hello Everybody! Tool and I were talking and he informed me someone had left and thats why...well, I decided to come and fill the hole!

House Name : Epidar

House Ranking: Major House

House Ruler: Ando Epidar (age 34)

Liege of house: Prince Doran Martell

House Holdings: The Ghost Hills

House Members : Stefon Epidar (Younger Brother age 25), Doranu Epidar(Son, age 15) Kyra Vaith (Ando's Wife)

House sigil: The Epidars sigil is a golden Phenix wielding a green sword on a field of orange and green.

House words: Death Will Come

House History: House Epidar was official formed after Aegons Conquest. In service as commanders of House Tolands forces the men watched as Lord Toland stepped out to face Aegon in single combat. While the songs may sing of his bravery the lord fell, slain by the dragon conqueror. Ando's kinsman at the time stepped up and rallied the remaining garrison to hold the walls against the invaders assault. While there forces did not match that of the Dragon riders sheer willpower held off the attackers long enough for reinforcements to arrive from Sunspear. As a reward for there service the Prince of Dorne rose Ando's kinsman to nobility, granting him the seat of his fallen Lord.

Currently in Ghost hill's keep rests a lone empty chair, with the sigil of House Toland draped over it in remembrance for the sacrifice Lord Toland made. Many Epidars fought beside the Princes of Dorne during the Conquest of Dorne, while the deffense proved resilient it did not stop the Young Dragon from finishing his ancestors goal. It did however prove that the Epidars were worthy of the lands given to them and loyal to the Matells.

During Roberts rebellion the Epidars once again fought for the Dornish. Ando traveled with his father to help lead the Army as a lieutenant to his father. Seventeen at the time and only recently knighted by his Prince, Ando fought alongside Prince Rhaegar at the battle of the Trident. In moments after the start of the battle his horse was shot by an arrow and Ando fought alongside the infantry, wielding a spear and shield until the spear was shattered in half from a broadsword. Opting for a longsword her continued to fight. Taking a slashing cut to his back and lower left knee two Lanister soldiers dragged him away to the remainder of his retinue. The wounds were not deep and leave a scar to this day. Once it was learned the Prince was killed all the ranks broke and Ando fell back to Kingslanding with a small retinue of men. Learning that his father was killed by the Usurper in battle Ando lost heart and the company rested at Hayford castle.

Currently Ando advises Prince Doran in Sunspear, as one of his military generals Ando requested leave to head to the Tourney at Kings Landing. Asking if his friend, Prince Oberyn if he would like join him, however the Princes brother declined. Before leaving the Ghost hills after speaking to his wife Ando decided to best to stop and greet his son, currently being raised at his Wifes family seat of The Red Dunes. Before departing on a ship to Kingslanding named The Swords Heart, a sealed letter arrived in the night with the seal of Prince Doran. Upon reading the letter Ando learned he had another mission in Kingslanding.

[mrimatool]

((I'M REALLY SORRY, BEEN REALLY BUSY WITH EXAMS AND RUST/CK2 BUT I'M BACK NOW))

Game Master

Robert stared for a moment at the stormlander before looking to the wife of the deceased, she nodded slowly and Robert dismissed the Knight. "It was an accident, nothing more" Robert said as he drank from his brass cup and nodded for the herald to call the next contestant.

The Herald stepped forward and called again "Gordon Tulgrad versus Alyn of Winterfell!"

The Broken Hammer

Michael watched as his son trotted out wearing no plate armour but instead donning hard leather, on his belt he carried the bastard sword that his father had given him as a gift only a few hours before. Michael sighed, "fuckin-" before shushing himself as he was next to two of the Ceval girls.

On Gordon's shield was not the arms of House Tulgrad like expected, but the arms of House Ceval. Michael sighed again at his son's attempts to gain favour with the Valyrian girl. Gordon's opponent was the hardy and stern Alyn of Winterfell, Alyn carried his lance like usual but his squire was carrying a large great-sword clearly for use against Gordon.

The Stag's Hammer

Duncan watched from his horse as the herald cheered and the two couched their lances. Duncan doubted his brother's skill with lance and sword but not his wits. The two charged and Gordon was quick to put his shield up. Before the dust had cleared, Gordon was on his back groaning as the Northman was dismounting.

Quickly Gordon scurried to his feet as the Northman swung his great-sword about, flurrying in front of the crowd to win their favour. Gordon drew his bastard sword, which Duncan noted was a bit too big for the boy. Clashing and clanging the two men fought until Duncan's sword was knocked from his hand the Northman chuckled.

Duncan took a few steps forward, fearing for his brother's safety. Until a spear landing point first in the dirt. Duncan looked around to see who had thrown it but couldn't tell. When he looked back his brother was darting to the spear and quickly picked it up.

Duncan sighed as he realised, his brother had planned it. Gordon always loved to show off and had clearly asked someone to throw the spear. His father hah hired a Dornish master-at-arms for the castle a few years ago, the man and Gordon got on very well and Gordon spent days training with him, but Michael had never seen any improvements in Gordon's swordplay.. because he wasn't being taught swordplay..

Gordon flurried about clashing with the Northman who was taken aback by Gordon's recovery. Quickly Gordon thrusted the unbladed end into the man's gut winding him as Gordon made repetitive jabs and thrusts at the man.

[Gollee]

Maisen of the Isles

Amelya looked on in mild disgust as the men fought, and Inyse half-stood from her seat. "What is even the point of this? I will never understand why you people fight for honour. It doesn't win wars, it doesn't raise walls, it doesn't produce food. If you want someone dead, kill them." She slumped back in her chair, minor tirade ended; Inyse looked over at her, her enthusiasm dimmed somewhat; but she said nothing.

The Seadragon

Lord Varane scowled as he saw Gordon taking to the field with a shield of house Ceval. "If that daft boy dishonours that shield, I'll wring his neck." The stable master nodded his agreement as he finished working on the Lord's horse. "Yes sir."

[F_sphere]

The Stag's Hammer

Duncan watched from his horse as the herald cheered and the two couched their lances. Duncan doubted his brother's skill with lance and sword but not his wits. The two charged and Gordon was quick to put his shield up. Before the dust had cleared, Gordon was on his back groaning as the Northman was dismounting.

Quickly Gordon scurried to his feet as the Northman swung his great-sword about, flurrying in front of the crowd to win their favour. Gordon drew his bastard sword, which Duncan noted was a bit too big for the boy. Clashing and clanging the two men fought until Duncan's sword was knocked from his hand the Northman chuckled.

Duncan took a few steps forward, fearing for his brother's safety. Until a spear landing point first in the dirt. Duncan looked around to see who had thrown it but couldn't tell. When he looked back his brother was darting to the spear and quickly picked it up.

Duncan sighed as he realised, his brother had planned it. Gordon always loved to show off and had clearly asked someone to throw the spear. His father hah hired a Dornish master-at-arms for the castle a few years ago, the man and Gordon got on very well and Gordon spent days training with him, but Michael had never seen any improvements in Gordon's swordplay.. because he wasn't being taught swordplay..

Gordon flurried about clashing with the Northman who was taken aback by Gordon's recovery. Quickly Gordon thrusted the unbladed end into the man's gut winding him as Gordon made repetitive jabs and thrusts at the man.

 

Aeron had by now made his way through the frantically cheering crowd, appearing suddenly at Duncan's side. He struggled to clear his throat, finding every muscle in his body trembling with the adrenaline rushing through him. This method of communication failing, he lifted a quivering hand to pull on Ser Duncan's arm in an effort to garner his attention, away from the fight.

[mrimatool]

The Stag's Hammer

Gordon jabbed and swiped until he managed to hook the northman's ankle, leveraging the man's weight against him. The northman hit the ground with a tremendous thud and the crowd was silent as Gordon's spear threatened the downed man. In an instant the northman coughed "yield" as Gordon helped him from the floor graciously. Gordon picked up his shield and smiled at the young Valryian Inyse before bowing to his father with a sly smirk on his face.

Duncan watched chuckling at his younger brother's antics. The tug at his arm came suddenly and he turned to the squire beneath him. "Ahh there you are, I figured you'd miss my fight! You look as pale as milk lad, what's wrong?"

The herald spoke clearly and loudly "Ser Duncan Tulgrad, knight of the Kingsguard, shall fight Ser Meryn Trant, knight of the Kingsguard!"

[F_sphere]

Aeron's mouth had just begun to open as the names were called. He watched his mentor look up at the sound, barely managing to utter to him a warning, "Come back as soon as you are finished! You're not safe!" before Ser Duncan left for the fight.

[mrimatool]

The Stag's Hammer

Duncan spurred his horse into action, nodding to his squire and pointing to the hammer "have it ready for the ground duel" Duncan trotted off and waved to the crowd as his white enamelled plate armor shimmered in the warm southern sun. The crowds were smiling at the two kingsguard who guided their horses in front of the king. Duncan and Meryn were quick to bow their heads to Robert saying they fight for his honour, a traditional rite for the kingsguard.

Duncan winked at Ser Meryn and raced off to his side of the lists, collecting his lance from his Aeron and closing the visor on his helmet, a helmet that had been forged to look like the keep of a castle. Duncan had always admired the way certain renowned Knight's of the Kingsguard had wore a modified version of the standard Kingsguard armor, knights like Oswell Whent with his bat wings, Gerold Hightower with his Bull's horns and even the Dragon Knight himself had a helmet that resembled the mouth of a dragon.

Within a moment Duncan and Ser Meryn charged towards eachother, couching lances and pointing them towards eachother.