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Dance of the Blackfyre

Introduction

Hallo! This game will be taking place in the setting made popular by George RR Martin's acclaimed series, "A Song of Ice and Fire", during a turbulent era known as the "Blackfyre Rebellion".

If you are new to the setting, or a fan who hasn't delved too deeply into the lore of Westeros and the Seven Kingdoms, the Blackfyre Rebellion was a war instigated by a a bastard son of a dead king, with the aim of dethroning his half brother. It takes place roughly 150 years before the time of the popular books and TV show, and as such fairly free of spoilers.

About Me

I am an avid roleplayer and fantasy reader, as well as an all around lore buff. The setting George RR Marting has created is, in my mind, a perfect one for role playing. I feel it important to say a little something about my goals, and feelings, before going into anymore depth with the idea.

I love low fantasy, which fits in perfectly with the setting. Magic, and all that goes with it, exists, but it always on the peripheral of the world. Just beyond reach. I find that fairly appealing in todays over saturated fantasy environment. This game, and setting, are one of political intrigue and bloody warfare. My hope, is to place a cast of player characters int he very center of the drama, to help players craft and create characters just as powerful as those of the source material.

What this means, generally, is I expect a high quality of writing from not only the players, but myself. For me, tabletop gaming, or in this instant PbP gaming, is about role playing and storytelling first, and game mechanics second. That isn't to say they aren't important, or that don't have their place, but I try not to get too caught up in worrying about the details when it comes to ensuring that the game is enjoyable, and most importantly compelling, for the players.

With this, I generally would like to see, roughly, 5 posts a week. I am a bit of a lurker, so can assuredly do more, but 5 solid bits of writing is a fairly respectable, and doable, goal.

I think it only fair I show off what one cane expect from my own writing style, and as such have included a prolouge of sorts for the game below. I feel this piece is a good representation of my style as a whole. I hope you enjoy!

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The Dance Begins

Jast felt far worse then he looked. It seemed as if the rain would never stop, something the other men of his retinue no doubt found endlessly amusing. At the outset of their task, Jast had been all smiles. This was the first time Jast had been given a task by his father since he had won his spurs. Granted, delivering a message didn't exactly reek of glory, but it was enough for the young knight.

The golden wreath of house Algood was emblazoned upon his doublet, the golden thread having long since dulled by the downpour that had begun days ago. One of the men at arms Jast's father had sent to accompany him, Tormune, had said something akin to that the Riverlands were like to be as such. It wasn't uncommon for fierce rainfalls to come this late in summer, drenching all caught unawares.

Yet, like in everything else, Jast had been sure his luck would hold. Afterall, luck is what had brought him here in the first place. Not six months ago he had still been a squire for Ser Arthell Falwell, a middling knight whom had known Jast's father when they were both lads. Ser Arthell was a sturdy man, and fair with a blade, but had long since given up the search for glory, no longer riding in tourney's or scouring the land for bandit lords and princess in dire need of saving. For the most part, it seemed as if all Arthell cared for was riding from holdfast to holdfast in search of food and wine.

Jast squirmed in his seat, wiping his drenched blonde hair from his eyes as he peered down the muddy road. Arthell was dead now, killed by the very same bandits Jast had won his spurs from. The two had been riding with lord Aeger Tyrell's host from Highgarden when the host of some fifty men had been beset from all sides by bandits. At the forefront had been the Blue Knight, a vagabond swordsmen who was said to be nearly two hundred years old, long since having done away with his mortality and become a spirit of vengeance and madness.

Four men had fallen to his blade that day, as Aeger's son Martin did battle with the Blue knight. It was said the two had locked blades for nearly twenty minutes before Martin gained the edge, and took the immortal knights head from his shoulders, ending the myth on that day. Jast had been personally knighted by Martin, a honor that still brought a smile creeping to his face.

"You still 'ave the letter m'lord?" Tormune's booming voice echoed out from ahead of the small party of men at arms. Tormune often road at the head of their group, his grizzle beard and scarred face showing the experience that Jast's father, Lord Mathos Algood, had trusted over his son's newly minted spurs.

Jast nodded to the man, kicking his mount forward towards the grizzled figure. As he did so, his left hand slipped into the satchel at his side, fingers gently playing with the wax seal that bound the paper. He could feel the three heads, flames gushing from their mouth. A letter from the King! It made Jast feel taller, braver, stronger just knowing that the king had placed such a task on his shoulders.

"That I do Tormune. Any idea on when we can expect to reach Riverun? I like not this weather." Reaching up again, he was forced to push his blonde locks from his eyes. Arthell had always nagged at him to cut his hair, saying that as much as it impressed the ladies, it would get him killed more like then get him bedded. But what had he known? Arthell was in a cold grave, Jast a messenger for the king!

The burly man at arms nodded in reply, hand scratching at the scraggly beard that coated his face. "Aye, but it ain't just the storm that be setting my senses to tingling. If m'lord pardon me a moment, something ain't right. Even taking into fact the rain, we ain't passed no one in near six hours. Kingsroad ought to be busier en dat."

Jast had to agree, but dared not voice his concerns. Only boys and squires showed caution at "feelings" and gut instincts. Real Knights knew their purpose, and accomplished it at all costs. Following Tormune back to the front of the column, Jast looked back at the nearly thirty men at arms his father had sent with him. Not a single one of them was green, all trained soldiers who made a livelihood from fighting.

Feeling calmer, he turned back towards the road, hand once again rising to the wet hair that stuck to his forehead. In that single moment, Jast felt the impact of something connect with his chest. It took his breath away as he was lifted from the saddle, the ground rushing up to meet him as the world erupted into chaos.

Laying there, head towards the sky, Jast was keenly aware of the sounds of battle around him. Tilting his head, he saw his fathers men drawing blades, charging headlong into shadowy figures just beyond the edge of his vision. The rain pelted at him, as he rolled his head back.

Pushing at the ground, he tried to rise, but found he didn't have the strength, the mud pushing back at him as he tried to gain any ground. For a long while, he heard nothing but the faint sounds of battle. Sometimes, the ringing of steel could be heard drifting out across the woods, the scream of a man accompanying it. But soon, those too vanished. Jast tilted his head left and right, looking for anyone. He wanted to say something, but couldn't quite get the words to come out.

After what seemed like an eternity, he heard hoof beats from down the road, and turned his head towards the sound. In the distance, he could barely make out the image of a horse, it's ride and form cloaked in shadow. Yet, as it drew nearer, he began to make out more and more. Soon enough, he could see the black armor the figure wore, and the crest emblazoned on the barding of his horse. The three headed dragon roared flames, a fluttering feeling rising in Jast's chest.

For the briefest of moments, he felt safe. Until lightning lit across the sky, showing the red field and black dragon. Not Targaryen. Blackfyre.

The Crunch

The game will be played using Green Ronni's "A Song of Ice and Fire" Role playing game rule set. Character creation will be performed as per standard according to the age of your character.

Restrictions: I am not sure if anyone even has the desire for this, but I won't be accepting characters from the "Youth", "Adolescent", "Old", "Very Old", or "Venerable" age sets, unless the character is really outstanding despite the age limitation.

With that in mind, I also would like to encourage well rounded characters. Try to keep things reasonable. There can't be that many skill 7 swordsmen in Westeros.

Beyond those two things, I am open to any ideas. Most of the time frame is fairly open to molding from you, the players. If you would like to play the Head of house Lannister, a banner man to House Stark, one of the lesser Targaryen Bastards, or just a hedge knight looking for honor, it is fine with me.

Application Format: If you would please fill out the following, and create your own personal application thread int he application section of the game, I will do my best to get a feel for your character, and aid you in any way I can!

Name:
Age:
Motivations, Virtues, Vices:

Physical Description: (Pictures are always nice)

Personality: A good paragraph or two, really letting me get the feel for your character. I want to know what makes them tick. How they act, what they want, their dreams, etc.

Background: Now that I know who they are, I want to know where they came from and how they got the way they are. The more the better here.

Plot Hooks and Destiny: Where do you see the character developing? This doesn't have to be set in stone, but some possible ideas. It's always fun to speculate, and just gives me an idea of what you envision for the character.

A bit of RP: Just something from the point of view of your character. It doesn't have to be long, although I certainly won't object if so. Be creative!

Crunch: If you are the type who feels the need, do so here. But if you are more concerned with story and concept, don't worry about stats and such. It isn't a prerequisite to get in.

The Plot Thickens

You, the characters, will be faced with the difficult choice of the time. Do you side with the rightful king, or the charismatic usurper? Do you seek your own personal glorify, or make sacrifices for the betterment of your house and realm?

I hesitate to the use the word "sandbox", since that comes laden with connotations I don't mean to imply. However, the game won't be entirely linear, but neither will it be completely open ended. It will follow the trajectory of the build up to the war, the war itself, and the years following it's conclusion.

The last bit!

There really isn't a hard deadline. I will be accepting players until I am satisfied with the cast of characters.

Feel free to field any questions or comments!