The House of Learnea is of Old Blood...
The Iron born are dying. The Old Way has been corrupted by decades of poverty, ignorance, and radicalism. The Priests of the Drowning, once a fanatical, fringe group of dogmatic literalists and narrow minded puritans secluded in their sect.
Now, they are the entire Priesthood of the The One Beyond the Deep. Now the God of the Deep, has become the Drowned God. Once, so long ago it has been forgotten, those ancient times when Iron Islands were known for steel, fruits, sailors, warriors and naval yards. Now, they are known for thinly veiled poverty. For blood feuds that end entire houses, for pride, arrogance, hubris, and ignorance that rivals all.
The Iron born are dying. The Old Way has been corrupted by decades of poverty, ignorance, and radicalism. The Priests of the Drowning, once a fanatical, fringe group of dogmatic literalists and narrow minded puritans secluded in their sect.
Now, they are the entire Priesthood of the The One Beyond the Deep. Now the God of the Deep, has become the Drowned God. Once, so long ago it has been forgotten, those ancient times when Iron Islands were known for steel, fruits, sailors, warriors and naval yards. Now, they are known for thinly veiled poverty. For blood feuds that end entire houses, for pride, arrogance, hubris, and ignorance that rivals all.
The House of Learnea is of the Old Way...
Once, the Old Way was different. Once, the Iron Price was the Iron Due. Once, the Iron Born thrived. Once. Before House Hoare and their Drowned Priests, before They of the Black Line burned the orchards, scoured the mines, burned the forges, subjugated the isles. Made the Old Way anew. To Reave and Pillage and Drown. To fill empower the Kings of the Black Line, limitless in their ambitions, unshackled in their violence.
The House of Learnea is of the Iron Dues...
Ignorant to history. Blind to reality. Deaf to reason. Fallen. Lesser. Weak. Splintering. Dying. A thousand wounds and a hundred disease clawing at a people once more. So much more. Those few of the Old Way still remember. Still know. Still dream, not of a past long lost.
Of a future, soon to come.
How many the years that could not end they, Leal followers of undying faith, this House of Learnea?
How many Priests of the Drowning, Kings of the Black Line, of the Greyjoys and Hoare?
How steep the decline. How long the night...
Once, the Old Way was different. Once, the Iron Price was the Iron Due. Once, the Iron Born thrived. Once. Before House Hoare and their Drowned Priests, before They of the Black Line burned the orchards, scoured the mines, burned the forges, subjugated the isles. Made the Old Way anew. To Reave and Pillage and Drown. To fill empower the Kings of the Black Line, limitless in their ambitions, unshackled in their violence.
The House of Learnea is of the Iron Dues...
Ignorant to history. Blind to reality. Deaf to reason. Fallen. Lesser. Weak. Splintering. Dying. A thousand wounds and a hundred disease clawing at a people once more. So much more. Those few of the Old Way still remember. Still know. Still dream, not of a past long lost.
Of a future, soon to come.
How many the years that could not end they, Leal followers of undying faith, this House of Learnea?
How many Priests of the Drowning, Kings of the Black Line, of the Greyjoys and Hoare?
How steep the decline. How long the night...