#hotd starter

[tofeelthecold]

OPEN STARTER

verse: tbd open to: anyone

"You're going to plague me with your incessant babble, aren't you?"

[all-that-is-gold-is-now-gone]

A welcome surprise {Selective, Open to siblings of Nyra}

"Sister," Rhaenyra said as she looked up front her seat as the woman entered. Nyra glanced around the rooms of her advisors and dismissed them with a wave of her hand, glaring at a few of the old men who did not wish to leave.

"Why have you come to Dragonstone?" Nyra asked as she stood from her chair after the hall had emptied. She stared at the woman standing on the other side of the table. Although not shown on her face, Rhaenyra was shocked to see her sister here. After everything that happened, Viserys dying and Aegon being crowned king...she had never thought to see her siblings so soon, especially not on Dragonstone.

[multistoty]

- test muse so selective- open to any female muse

Harwin had been cleaning his blade when the kiss of a warm shadow ran across his back. A smile tugging at the sides of his mouth as he had an idea of just who was walking behind him by the sureness of her feet as they attempted to sneak upon them. Moon light dancing across the ground alighting a small shadow. The wind catching on fabric as it did the curls that momentarily executed the life of his vision. Yet, he would let her keep her masterminded mission by taking care of the steel that was already an acceptable state. A visitor he was quite happy to enjoy the company of. “We might have to work on your plans of attack. Someone as fierce and beautiful as you should certainly have the capabilites to defend herself- or at least cut her strings. What made you seek me out at midnight?”

[all-is-fair-in-love-and-war]

Jacaerys sat in the small clearing in the forest, as he started a small fire. He had thought about not starting a fire at all, but the portion of stew he had with him was shit without being warmed up and it was the only thing he had to eat for awhile. So the fire he decided was worth the risk, not that it was much a risk. Anything or anyone that might come across him in the woods wouldn’t walk away.

Jace settled down in front of the fire, waiting for it to grow so he could warm his food. His scarred eyes glanced around at the blackness of the forest, small sounds of animals coming from here or there. He settled back against a log and watched the flames, tugging his dark cloak tighter around himself as his sword rested beside him. After several moments of silence he felt a branch break, and his head snapped in the direction of the sound, but all he saw was darkness. He stood swiftly, and grabbed his sword, slowly turning in a circle, trying to see through the night.

“Whoever is there,” He called out calmly, “I suggest you turn away if you wish to live.” Jace said, his hand firmly on the hilt of his sword, ready for an attack.

[tofeelthecold]

OPEN STARTER

verse: tbd open to: anyone

"It doesn't have to be this way. Can't we find some path to peace?"

[multistoty]

there was nothing quite like it, soaring through the skies with the sun warming her neck and back. princess rhaenyra knew she had best be getting back to the capital if she wanted to be home in time for the festivities. she didn’t intend to smell like dragon, and she needed time for her handmaidens to brush through wind tangled hair.

there was a jolt as syrax landed. she slid out of the saddle and down the dragon’s side with practiced ease. a hand brushed over her scales until she heard the crunching of shoes on sand. rhaenyra turned, sighing “don’t tell me they’re already expecting me.”

[rowan-revelry]

Muse: Dorian of Thyrea, human, warlord, he/him, 35 y/o Open to: F/NB/M - a comrade in arms. Trans characters always welcome. // Open to mutuals and non-mutuals. 25+ players please. Verse: Death comes for us all (low fantasy, GoT-energy) Scenario: Y/M gets a fatal blow in the middle of battle, and against his better judgement, Dorian leaves his safe perch and throws himself into the fray in order to ensure Y/M doesn't get crowded by enemies.

A more emotional man might have cried out. A less emotional man might have stayed on the hill.

Dorian was none of these things. He saw the arrow cut above the rows of soldiers in the front, and from his elevated vantage point he saw it hit a target that it wasn't allowed to hit. Couldn't hit. Shouldn't hit.

Victory was very near, he should stay where he was, with his flags, with his generals, where he could overlook the battle and control the flow of it. Instead, he dug his spurs into his horse's side, and despite the shouts of his men, threw himself into the thick of it.

Chaos. The clang of swords, axes. It was a dry, hot day and the dust of the red earth kicked up into his face. It didn't matter. He cut down one, two, three people barely registering more than their livery. Then he was before his injured comrade, Vardar in hand - when had the great long sword gotten there? He didn't remember pulling it from its scabbard - and thrusting a hand down. Trying to help them get up on the mare.

Someone in the dirt of enemies screamed: "THE FORGE! THE FORGE!" and he had a feeling the next volley of arrows would be aimed at him.

[tofeelthecold]

OPEN STARTER

verse: tbd open to: anyone

"I don't wish to talk about it. And I don't want to see them. Can we talk about anything else or go anywhere else? Please?"