An Alliance of Targaryen and Stark, Pt I
I think it may finally be time to introduce our second to last player character, our last family house, and one of the most heavily involved plot lines of the entire game.
The Starks returned from their travels in the Dwarven lands a session or two after the Targaryens had come from their trip to the elves. With them came Jesselyn, played by our second female player Ariane, along with her sister Dania, her lordly brother Antonio, and the Dowager Vanessa.
Jesselyn was a wizard, and while her booklearning could bend reality to her will, it unfortunately did little enough to affect her social situation positively. For the first few days of her time back in her home district, there was little enough for her to do, besides converse with her siblings. We met Antonio, the brash, handsome, aloof lord of the Stark estate, who seemed to be only antagonized by his sister, who I believe stole his new dwarven throwing dagger on their first meeting, and hid it. (Much to everyone’s amusement) We also met Dania, and soon collectively raised our eyebrows at her manic mannerisms, and utter devotion to Peter, of house Heldecki. There was something…odd about her. But no-one had quite put their finger on it yet. Continue reading →
The Painter of Al’Craz Hall
Some stories are becoming more and more lost to my memory…their details grow vague, while their pitched moments flash brilliantly in my mind.
For one reason or another Zaav Al’Craz commissioned a renowned painter to do a portrait of himself. It became a function of his days to sit for the painter each morning. As time went on, the fiscal opportunities the painter could potentially afford the nobleman began to present themselves. The man’s paintings were cheap now, but there were great mutterings of his brilliance and mastery, and if he were to die while a great number of the artworks were in Zaav’s possession…he could make quite a ‘killing’, as it were.
Of Nobility, Banditry and Romance II
Henry was dead. Dead as a doornail. He, like Charles Dickens (who is standing just at my shoulder, I’m sure, tut-tutting) was soon spinning in his grave while the characters in turn tried to puzzle out what exactly had happened.
Sure Zaav wanted his brother dead, but he wanted it done, if not honorably, then at least in a public manner that would cast the least suspicion on himself. He had nothing to do with the tampering of the trigger mechanism in the gun. Now, it seemed that someone else was actually after his head…and if he was after Henry’s head, who’s to say that he wasn’t after Zaav’s? Continue reading →
Intercontinental Adventures 