[X] Epic Quest Gained: The Sickle of the Valar: A dragon, mad and raving, sits sprawled across the earth, and green fire belches from his lips. A great Stag rides against him, and in the distance, a Dragon-child is born with a Wolf's eyes, a Prince that was Promised long ago. Find the Little Lion, and follow the Star to the Sea.
As Black As Fate: A Mormegil Quest (ASOIAF/LOTR)
- Thread starter Telamon
- Start date
- Location
- Little Rock, AR
[X] Epic Quest Gained: The Sickle of the Valar: A dragon, mad and raving, sits sprawled across the earth, and green fire belches from his lips. A great Stag rides against him, and in the distance, a Dragon-child is born with a Wolf's eyes, a Prince that was Promised long ago. Find the Little Lion, and follow the Star to the Sea.
NuclearConsensus
Herald of the Thorned One
- Location
- the Philippines
[X] Epic Quest Gained: The Sickle of the Valar: A dragon, mad and raving, sits sprawled across the earth, and green fire belches from his lips. A great Stag rides against him, and in the distance, a Dragon-child is born with a Wolf's eyes, a Prince that was Promised long ago. Find the Little Lion, and follow the Star to the Sea.
Guilliman
Lord Protector
- Location
- Jakarta
- Pronouns
- He/Him
[X] Epic Quest Gained: The Sickle of the Valar: A dragon, mad and raving, sits sprawled across the earth, and green fire belches from his lips. A great Stag rides against him, and in the distance, a Dragon-child is born with a Wolf's eyes, a Prince that was Promised long ago. Find the Little Lion, and follow the Star to the Sea.
[X] Epic Quest Gained: The Sickle of the Valar: A dragon, mad and raving, sits sprawled across the earth, and green fire belches from his lips. A great Stag rides against him, and in the distance, a Dragon-child is born with a Wolf's eyes, a Prince that was Promised long ago. Find the Little Lion, and follow the Star to the Sea.
Night_stalker
Slava Ukraini!
- Pronouns
- He/Him
[X] Epic Quest Gained: The Sickle of the Valar: A dragon, mad and raving, sits sprawled across the earth, and green fire belches from his lips. A great Stag rides against him, and in the distance, a Dragon-child is born with a Wolf's eyes, a Prince that was Promised long ago. Find the Little Lion, and follow the Star to the Sea.
- Location
- London, England
[X] Epic Quest Gained: The Sickle of the Valar: A dragon, mad and raving, sits sprawled across the earth, and green fire belches from his lips. A great Stag rides against him, and in the distance, a Dragon-child is born with a Wolf's eyes, a Prince that was Promised long ago. Find the Little Lion, and follow the Star to the Sea.
KnightofTempest
The Man who would be King
- Location
- Chicago
[X] Epic Quest Gained: The Swordsman of the Sky: A quiet, harsh peace lies over the land. The stag grows fat and lazy, but vipers nestle in the bosom of his realm. The wolf rides south, the lion stirs, and further beyond, a Stallion Mounts the World. Find the littlest lord, and follow the Star to the Sea.
[X] Epic Quest Gained: The Sickle of the Valar: A dragon, mad and raving, sits sprawled across the earth, and green fire belches from his lips. A great Stag rides against him, and in the distance, a Dragon-child is born with a Wolf's eyes, a Prince that was Promised long ago. Find the Little Lion, and follow the Star to the Sea.
- Location
- Sault Ste. Marie, Michigan, USA
[X] Epic Quest Gained: The Sickle of the Valar: A dragon, mad and raving, sits sprawled across the earth, and green fire belches from his lips. A great Stag rides against him, and in the distance, a Dragon-child is born with a Wolf's eyes, a Prince that was Promised long ago. Find the Little Lion, and follow the Star to the Sea.
Nix's Warden
Welcome to Hades
- Location
- United States
[X] Epic Quest Gained: The Sickle of the Valar: A dragon, mad and raving, sits sprawled across the earth, and green fire belches from his lips. A great Stag rides against him, and in the distance, a Dragon-child is born with a Wolf's eyes, a Prince that was Promised long ago. Find the Little Lion, and follow the Star to the Sea.
This is going to so much fun. The greatest Black Knight/Dragon Slayer in all of LoTR and he's just going around the seven kingdoms during Robert's Rebellion. Oh I hope we run into Arthur Dayne. That would a great fight for anyone lucky enough to see it.
This is going to so much fun. The greatest Black Knight/Dragon Slayer in all of LoTR and he's just going around the seven kingdoms during Robert's Rebellion. Oh I hope we run into Arthur Dayne. That would a great fight for anyone lucky enough to see it.
0.3: Bells, Bells
Telamon
A corvid.
- Location
- Texas
You open your eyes. The grove is gone. The stars are gone. Smoke hangs in the sky, blotting the moon.
You stand in the middle of a war.
Around you, men in strange armors bearing strange sigils hack and carve away at one another the streets of a foreign city. Sweat, blood and smoke choke your nose and fill your throat. A man to your right wearing a hauberk of bright yellow goes down under a flurry of blows from a man wearing a dark red tunic, his blood spattering on the cobblestones as his enemy hacks at his chest again and again. Moments, an arrow sprouts in the red soldier's throat, and he falls lifeless over his enemy's corpse.
The battle around you seems to be taking place in some sort of town or city, though far more advanced than any city of men you have ever seen. The armies in battle are many, and though you can tell various forces apart by the crests and colors of their clothing, it is confusing as to who, exactly, is fighting whom. As you watch, a man wearing a dark tunic with a wolf's head emblazoned on the chest cuts down another in a threadbare garment you suppose is meant to be armor, and swings his sword violently at yet another wearing a large suit of armor with a dragon's head carved upon it's plate.
And in the distance, somewhere high above, booming bells toll.
A hoarse yell from your left alerts you to an enemy presence, and you sidestep without a thought, avoiding a tall man swinging a sword wildly. Stifling a snort at his almost humorous lack of skill or practice, you draw black Gurthang from it's scabbard and run him through. Red blood spills on the stones of the town, and you spin around, teeth clenched as several more men in dark grey bear down upon you. You have only the briefest of seconds to notice the wolfshead sigil on their armor, and then they are upon you.
It is easy. So easy. You are faster, taller, stronger. Gurthang turns their swords aside with ease, and for one unlucky man, cuts through his blade like butter. In moments, there are only two left, where once there were seven. One, a weedy-looking youth of twelve, pales and drops his sword--and likely his bladder--before turning to run. The last, a grizzled man of almost forty, sneers before swinging his sword at your head. You tilt under his guard and bring Gurthang swinging up through his abdomen with a blow that near lifts him into the air.
As his body falls to the ground, you let the exhilaration flow through you. You can feel it all around you, in the clash of metal and the smell of sweat, in the blood sticky on your skin and in the smoke heavy on the air, in the bells that toll ponderously over the chaos.
Death.
You were made for this. Born for this. It comes to you as easily as breathing or sleeping, and with foes like these, it might as well be. Something within you calls you to forget all that came before and simply leap back into the fray, back into the clang of steel and the spray of blood. But as you draw Gurthang again, you catch sight of something in the dim sky, through the red light of the fires and the black haze of smoke, as bright as ever--a curved sickle of stars, brighter than the sun and the moon and all the other stars of heaven. One in particular, the southmost, shines brighter than the others.
Follow the star to the sea.
In a single moment, your bloodlust vanishes. You have a duty here. A purpose, holy and great. You will not allow your urges, the darkness within you, to befoul that. Not now, or ever.
You begin making your way through the blood-soaked town, searching for something, anything, that might explain why Eru sent you here, to this land of brutal men and strange stars.
Find the Little Lion, and follow the star to the Sea.
The little lion. Perhaps...
You cast your eyes about as you make your way through the battlefield, searching for anyone wearing a lion crest. Instead, your eyes alight on a beast of a man, obviously a leader of some sort, taller than all the others, who has just emerged from a small wooden building into the great town square where the crux of the fighting seems to be concentrated. On his head, a great horned helmet with antlers that pierce the smoke, and he wears a hauberk of purest yellow over a suit of strange armor that covers him from head to toe. As you watch, he burrows into the battle with a violent fervor, and...and...
You frown. It cannot be.
But it is.
He laughs. The giant walks across the square, ending lives with each swing of his great warhammer, and as he does, he is laughing. Laughing like a rolling storm, but laughing still.
You tear your eyes from the antlered warrior, and your attention settles on another. A man with fierce red hair and pale blue eyes, wearing black armor with a three-headed dragon on the chest. He stands surrounded by soldiers armed in red hauberks who fight against those in yellow and grey, but they are clearly outnumbered. As you look on, he catches sight of the antlered lord, and rage twists across his features. He raises his sword and points it across the square, yelling orders to his men, who seem to make a renewed effort to reach the antlered warrior.
You think for a long moment. The men are obviously important in some way, but attempting to aid or even simply speak to them could irrevocably bind you to a side in a conflict you know little about. But something deep within you tells you that they are, both of them, crucial to the great duty you have been assigned, whatever it may be.
Then an arrow lands in the earth near your feet, and the time for thinking is over.
___________
[] You try to make your way to the great helmeted giant, cutting down a few of the red-clad men to emphasize that you are on the side of the yellow soldiers.
[] You turn for the red-haired lord, driving Gurthang through some of the yellow warriors in order to make your allegiance clear.
[] You cannot make your motives so clear so early. You try to make your way to your intended target without bloodshed.
--[] The red-haired lord.
--[] The antlered warrior.
[] Symbols and signs be damned, you have come anew to this land, and you will not embroil yourself in a conflict you do not even understand. You fall back, hoping to find a way out of the town and someone who can tell you where you are, and what this war is.
[] Write-in (Tag me for approval)
You stand in the middle of a war.
Around you, men in strange armors bearing strange sigils hack and carve away at one another the streets of a foreign city. Sweat, blood and smoke choke your nose and fill your throat. A man to your right wearing a hauberk of bright yellow goes down under a flurry of blows from a man wearing a dark red tunic, his blood spattering on the cobblestones as his enemy hacks at his chest again and again. Moments, an arrow sprouts in the red soldier's throat, and he falls lifeless over his enemy's corpse.
The battle around you seems to be taking place in some sort of town or city, though far more advanced than any city of men you have ever seen. The armies in battle are many, and though you can tell various forces apart by the crests and colors of their clothing, it is confusing as to who, exactly, is fighting whom. As you watch, a man wearing a dark tunic with a wolf's head emblazoned on the chest cuts down another in a threadbare garment you suppose is meant to be armor, and swings his sword violently at yet another wearing a large suit of armor with a dragon's head carved upon it's plate.
And in the distance, somewhere high above, booming bells toll.
A hoarse yell from your left alerts you to an enemy presence, and you sidestep without a thought, avoiding a tall man swinging a sword wildly. Stifling a snort at his almost humorous lack of skill or practice, you draw black Gurthang from it's scabbard and run him through. Red blood spills on the stones of the town, and you spin around, teeth clenched as several more men in dark grey bear down upon you. You have only the briefest of seconds to notice the wolfshead sigil on their armor, and then they are upon you.
It is easy. So easy. You are faster, taller, stronger. Gurthang turns their swords aside with ease, and for one unlucky man, cuts through his blade like butter. In moments, there are only two left, where once there were seven. One, a weedy-looking youth of twelve, pales and drops his sword--and likely his bladder--before turning to run. The last, a grizzled man of almost forty, sneers before swinging his sword at your head. You tilt under his guard and bring Gurthang swinging up through his abdomen with a blow that near lifts him into the air.
As his body falls to the ground, you let the exhilaration flow through you. You can feel it all around you, in the clash of metal and the smell of sweat, in the blood sticky on your skin and in the smoke heavy on the air, in the bells that toll ponderously over the chaos.
Death.
You were made for this. Born for this. It comes to you as easily as breathing or sleeping, and with foes like these, it might as well be. Something within you calls you to forget all that came before and simply leap back into the fray, back into the clang of steel and the spray of blood. But as you draw Gurthang again, you catch sight of something in the dim sky, through the red light of the fires and the black haze of smoke, as bright as ever--a curved sickle of stars, brighter than the sun and the moon and all the other stars of heaven. One in particular, the southmost, shines brighter than the others.
Follow the star to the sea.
In a single moment, your bloodlust vanishes. You have a duty here. A purpose, holy and great. You will not allow your urges, the darkness within you, to befoul that. Not now, or ever.
You begin making your way through the blood-soaked town, searching for something, anything, that might explain why Eru sent you here, to this land of brutal men and strange stars.
Find the Little Lion, and follow the star to the Sea.
The little lion. Perhaps...
You cast your eyes about as you make your way through the battlefield, searching for anyone wearing a lion crest. Instead, your eyes alight on a beast of a man, obviously a leader of some sort, taller than all the others, who has just emerged from a small wooden building into the great town square where the crux of the fighting seems to be concentrated. On his head, a great horned helmet with antlers that pierce the smoke, and he wears a hauberk of purest yellow over a suit of strange armor that covers him from head to toe. As you watch, he burrows into the battle with a violent fervor, and...and...
You frown. It cannot be.
But it is.
He laughs. The giant walks across the square, ending lives with each swing of his great warhammer, and as he does, he is laughing. Laughing like a rolling storm, but laughing still.
You tear your eyes from the antlered warrior, and your attention settles on another. A man with fierce red hair and pale blue eyes, wearing black armor with a three-headed dragon on the chest. He stands surrounded by soldiers armed in red hauberks who fight against those in yellow and grey, but they are clearly outnumbered. As you look on, he catches sight of the antlered lord, and rage twists across his features. He raises his sword and points it across the square, yelling orders to his men, who seem to make a renewed effort to reach the antlered warrior.
You think for a long moment. The men are obviously important in some way, but attempting to aid or even simply speak to them could irrevocably bind you to a side in a conflict you know little about. But something deep within you tells you that they are, both of them, crucial to the great duty you have been assigned, whatever it may be.
Then an arrow lands in the earth near your feet, and the time for thinking is over.
___________
[] You try to make your way to the great helmeted giant, cutting down a few of the red-clad men to emphasize that you are on the side of the yellow soldiers.
[] You turn for the red-haired lord, driving Gurthang through some of the yellow warriors in order to make your allegiance clear.
[] You cannot make your motives so clear so early. You try to make your way to your intended target without bloodshed.
--[] The red-haired lord.
--[] The antlered warrior.
[] Symbols and signs be damned, you have come anew to this land, and you will not embroil yourself in a conflict you do not even understand. You fall back, hoping to find a way out of the town and someone who can tell you where you are, and what this war is.
[] Write-in (Tag me for approval)
Last edited:
Night_stalker
Slava Ukraini!
- Pronouns
- He/Him
[X] You try to make your way to the great helmeted giant, cutting down a few of the red-clad men to emphasize that you are on the side of the yellow soldiers.
Nix's Warden
Welcome to Hades
- Location
- United States
Er...this is the battle of the....Stepstones right? Regardless Robert and Rhaegar are here. So with that in mind
[X] You try to make your way to the great helmeted giant, cutting down a few of the red-clad men to emphasize that you are on the side of the yellow soldiers.
FUCK the Targs.
[X] You try to make your way to the great helmeted giant, cutting down a few of the red-clad men to emphasize that you are on the side of the yellow soldiers.
FUCK the Targs.
Telamon
A corvid.
- Location
- Texas
An important note:
I will be giving extra EXP, Legend points, and other rewards for various original creations, including but not limited to: Omakes, Reaction posts, and posts of this nature.*
*Posts describing how I am the greatest AGOT GM ever, my quests are the best, and Mazrick and Droman ain't got shit on me will earn 50000 EXP, 600 Legend Points, and I'll put your name on the front page of the Quest.*
**Zooboss, if you see this, I was just kidding about the 'best AGOT GM ever' thing. Don't hurt me please Mountain That Rises Questers scare me they have no boundaries.
I will be giving extra EXP, Legend points, and other rewards for various original creations, including but not limited to: Omakes, Reaction posts, and posts of this nature.*
*Posts describing how I am the greatest AGOT GM ever, my quests are the best, and Mazrick and Droman ain't got shit on me will earn 50000 EXP, 600 Legend Points, and I'll put your name on the front page of the Quest.*
**Zooboss, if you see this, I was just kidding about the 'best AGOT GM ever' thing. Don't hurt me please Mountain That Rises Questers scare me they have no boundaries.
- Location
- Ireland
[X] You try to make your way to the great helmeted giant, cutting down a few of the red-clad men to emphasize that you are on the side of the yellow soldiers.
Death to the Red Dragon.
Death to the Red Dragon.
Nix's Warden
Welcome to Hades
- Location
- United States
Night_stalker
Slava Ukraini!
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Oh, you're right.
- Location
- United States of America
[X] You turn for the red-haired lord, driving Gurthang through some of the yellow warriors in order to make your allegiance clear.
Last edited:
Telamon
A corvid.
- Location
- Texas
It works, though I am somewhat wary of it being largely a reworded version of the 'leave and figure out what's going on' option. I will, however, allow it.
DkArthas
CAPITAL IS TO BLAME
- Location
- Earth
- Pronouns
- They
[X] You turn for the red-haired lord, driving Gurthang through some of the yellow warriors in order tomake your allegiance clear.
Battle of the bells actually, stepstones are a group of islands in the narrow sea near stormlands.
NuclearConsensus
Herald of the Thorned One
- Location
- the Philippines
[X] You try to make your way to the great helmeted giant, cutting down a few of the red-clad men to emphasize that you are on the side of the yellow soldiers.
This hould be the Battle of the Bells if I'm not mistaken, so hopefully we can take out Jon Connington before he kills Denys Arryn
This hould be the Battle of the Bells if I'm not mistaken, so hopefully we can take out Jon Connington before he kills Denys Arryn
[X] You try to make your way to the great helmeted giant, cutting down a few of the red-clad men to emphasize that you are on the side of the yellow soldiers.