The White Keep

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The White Keep

Post by Omni on Wed Jun 19, 2013 2:18 am



The White Keep, home to House Callistan, the royal family of Jotun, had stood for ages untold.  Built into the mountain, it is carved from smooth, white stone, truly a sight to behold.  Surrounding the keep is the walled city of Drakkenfel, capital of all of Jotun.  Situated along the Northgate and on the edge of the steppes, the City of Drakkenfel and the surrounding Drakkenfel Hold have, by far, the mildest climate of all of Jotun.  As such, Drakkenfel is a trading hub, and, it itself is quite impressive.  Most of it's buildings are carved from the same white stone as the keep.

The White Keep, Great Hall

"What do you mean, razed?  By whom?"

"We're not sure, sire.. .A dragon, perhaps?  Whatever it was, it left none alive."

The throne room is all at once filled with murmuring.  Dragons haven't been seen inside the borders of Jotun in three hundred years.  King Jon, unnerved, shifted from his slouched position atop his throne.

"Dispatch riders to the riders to the village.  I want a full investigation into the matter."

The messenger nodded, stepping away.  The King's Hand, Cedric Kaestan, Lord of Stormlands, stepped forward, unravelling a scroll.

"There's also another matter, sire.  A messenger from Republic of Pycheko delivered an urgent warning.  Apparently, a blight native to their land has spread beyond their borders."

The King looked to his court wizard, a quiet, slender man standing in the corner. "Are you familiar with this affliction?  It's potency?"


"I'm afraid I am, sire.  It's quite deadly, and it spreads very easily.  But- worse is what happens to those who survive.  They become horrible, twisted monsters."

The king furrowed his eyebrows, scratching his beard for a moment. "Close our Pychekan border.  Detain anyone attempting to cross over.  Burn the dead."


Last edited by Omni on Thu Jul 11, 2013 11:19 pm; edited 5 times in total
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Re: The White Keep

Post by Blitz on Thu Jun 20, 2013 1:52 pm

There are scattered reports of a cloaked man performing dark magics on the fresh bodies of water in the Kingdom, that he spreads a dark force that turns the bodies of water into sludge and kill all animals that drink or live in it.

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Re: The White Keep

Post by Omni on Sat Jun 22, 2013 3:42 pm

He sighed, looking to the statue, looking for words.  The bust was of Iyra, his late wife, Witch of Whitethorne, mother of Princess Maya Callistan, heir to the Kingdom of Jotun, and it stood above the stone coffin under The White Keep in which she was buried.  Of course, he didn't want to talk to the statue.  He wanted to talk to Iyra.  He wanted to talk to his wife.  Once upon a time, the good King Jon, first of his name, had been happily married.  Or, at least, married.  They hadn't had much time to be happy.  He tried not to romanticize; but it did seem almost like something out of a fable.  He had met Iyra during the Interregnum, back when King Jon Callistan was just Ser Jon Therys, half-brother to the rightful king, Prince Andal Callistan.  She saved his life after his men were slaughtered in an ambush.  She nursed him back to health, and, when once again he was able to fight, she found herself drawn to him, unable to leave his side.  They had fallen in love.  And so they fought alongside Prince Andal together.  Their loved resulted in a child, and, so, in this time of war, found peace.  They married.  Unfortunately, it did not last.  Iyra died giving birth to Maya.

"I.. wish you were here, Iyra.  You always knew what to say, what to do.  You would have made a hell of a queen.  You'd have made a much better queen than I make a king, at least.  And a much better mother than I am a father.  You'd be proud of Maya, you know.  She's so much like you.  She has your hair and your eyes, your spirit.  She's always curious, always learning.  Always questioning." He laughs, to himself. "She's a pain in my arse, sometimes, but.. she reminds me of you.  You were always a bit of a pain in the arse, too." The king smiled gently to himself, though it did not last long.

The king stood, rubbing his eyes for a moment, adjusting his fur cloak, turning.  He walked silently to the edge of the crypt, where Cedric Kaestan, hand of the king, stood, waiting for him.  Cedric had fought alongside him in the war.  They had grown up alongside each other, Andal, Cedric, and Jon.  There was no living man who knew the king better than Cedric.  "You know, Jon.  You don't have to do this to yourself.  You don't have to keep torturing yourself."

The King sighed, waving his hand. "By the gods, Enough." He ran his hand through his own hair as they rounded the corner at end of crypt's winding stairway, turning into long hallway between the crypt and the great hall. "You said we had important matters to speak of- out with it."  Cedric was practically an inverted image of the king.  Blond, short hair, no beard to speak of, sunny of disposition, well-learned in court protocol.  Jon had chosen him for exactly that reason; he needed an advisor who knew him back when he was just the king's bastard, an advisor who'd say no to him.  A foil.

"News from the western holds, sire.  Despite our efforts, the Pychekan Blight appears to have spread into Jotun." They stepped through the archway, into the Great Hall of the White Keep, walking past busts of heroes lining the walls.  Theon Callistan, First of His Name, Uniter of the Kingdom of Jotun, Slayer of the Sapphire Drake.  Aeric Thaestan, Third of His name, Breaker Of Chains, Bane of Illonia.  Andal Callistan, First of His Name, The Forgotten Prince.

"That is.. unfortunate, Cedric.  The Pychekans have dealt with this problem before, yes?  How did they solve the problem?"

"Purges, sire.  They killed thousands in an effort to remove the blight from land.  It did not succeed."

Finally, the reached the throne in the back of Great Hall.  The Kingsguard, clad in their blue cloaks and shining white steel, nodded silently to their liege as he took his seat.  The king himself is silent for quite some time, scratching his beard, thinking.

"..Well, then.  We shan't be trying that, shall we?  Send a messenger to Robert- to the Dragon's Mouth.  Perhaps they've dealt with this before."
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Re: The White Keep

Post by Zombiedude101 on Mon Jun 24, 2013 12:20 pm

Having reached the Northern Shoreline by galley within a day of their depature from the Black Keep, before embarking on another few days' worth of riding on horseback, King Robert Arristone and his party had finally arrived outside of the White Keep. Unlike some southern rulers and their families, it was quite easily noted that both Robert and his son, young Bran Arristone had both opted to ride on horseback than be carried, and it was also quite evident that the two seemed to have enjoyed the experience, Robert in particular.

Amongst the party included four of Robert's Kingsguard, a considerable number of mounted cavalrymen, and of course, Ser's Rickard and Benjen Arristone, Robert's Bannermen and youngest brothers, both of whom were twins. And so, approaching the White Keep, the King made it quite clear of his intent to enter, informing the guards present of King Jon Callistan's invitation, and his desire to be granted entry to visit the King. After all, it'd been some time since the two had last met.

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Re: The White Keep

Post by Omni on Sun Jun 30, 2013 8:32 am

The gates to the White Keep, opened by two guardsmen, open to reveal the Keep's courtyard, and the good king Jon, first of his name.  He stands there, hand on his waist, smiling, his fur-collared cloak fluttering in the breeze.  Beside him is Maya Callistan, heir to the throne.  Her long, brilliant red hair has been braided neatly, and she wears a simple, but elegant gown, along with her own cloak.  Next to them stands Cedric Kaestan, hand of the king, along with Jon's Kingsguard.  The courtyard is fairly busy, though they all stop and at least acknowledge  Robert Arristone, bowing their heads.

"It's good to see you, old friend.  It's been too long."
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Re: The White Keep

Post by Zombiedude101 on Sun Jun 30, 2013 12:31 pm

With little more than a quiet grunt, Robert dismounted from his horse and soon enough, a warm smile formed across his face.

"Aye, Callistan. It has indeed, not since the Battle of Drakesmaw, if I am to be correct."

Meanwhile, the remainder of Robert's party were for the most part still, allowing their King to finish his conversation rather than so rudely interrupt. As usual, the Kingsguard maintained their hard, vigilant stares, the banners of the silver dragon stood defiantly in the wind, and young Bran Arristone could only watch curiously, observing at first Jon Callistan himself, a little surprised at how young the man looked than as opposed to what he'd imagined, before eventually looking over towards Jon's daughter and heir to the throne, Maya Callistan. Her red hair was something of an oddity to him; the only time he'd ever heard of or laid eyes upon a person with red hair were the dwarves that kept to their hold in the east, but never a human. Strange indeed, though this was not necessarily something which bothered him.

"And, I presume, Lady Callistan? I would say that the years have seen you age well into a fine young woman."

Robert's attention had shifted towards Maya, again expressing a warm, friendly smile with a tone of familiarity to it.

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Re: The White Keep

Post by Omni on Tue Jul 02, 2013 1:12 am

Maya nods in response, her cheeks turning a hue not all that dissimilar to her hair.

"Has it truly been that long?"

Soon after the men dismount their horses, servants arrive and lead their horses off to the stables.  During the battle of Drakemaw, Jon's ship had been sunk- it had been heavily damaged, and so, seeing no better option, he rammed it into the flagship of the Usurpers's fleet.  Both had gone down in flames, and Jon had been presumed dead.  Only a week later did he wash up on shore.  He had been reckless during the war.  Daring, even.  Foolhardy.  Why not, though?  He was a bastard.  He had no idea he was going to be king. He turned his body partway to the door across the courtyard, the entrance to the great hall.    The king motions to the door.

"Come.  I've had a feast prepared."

Not soon after he motions, he begins walking, followed by Maya, Cedric, and his Kingsguard, and, presumably, King Robert and his company.  Maya walks alongside Bran, still blushing a tad. "It's.. good to meet you.  My father told me about you."
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Re: The White Keep

Post by Zombiedude101 on Tue Jul 02, 2013 12:44 pm

With a quiet nod, Robert and the rest of his party soon followed after King Jon, whilst Bran had decided to adress Maya with a faint, courteous smile that one would've expected of a Royal adressing another.

"Likewise my Lady, it is good to meet you as well, though I did not know much of you save for what my father had told me and from the historical books of the Great Library."

A boy at barely sixteen years of age, Bran was physically alike his father and elder brother except for one particular thing; Unlike them, he possessed a rather small frame when and seemed to be of a comparably light physique which would have made wielding anything greater than a longsword a near-impossible task. Yet, oddly so, he kept a blade of such considerable size at his side, a longsword with a hilt that bore the sigil of Silver Dragon engraved into it. After all, it was better to make a good impression than to appear weak, and the young lord hoped to one day properly train with and wield the blade in combat, if not able to wield an axe or greatsword like his father and uncles had.

"I would say, your hair is rather beautiful. In my homeland, I have had yet to see one with such fiery braids, like streams of dragonfire."

And, aside from the usual Royal Protocol that any highborn would've been briefed on, Bran appeared to be the most well spoken of the Arristone males. Where his other male relatives drew strength from their prowess in combat, he drew most of his 'strength' from knowledge; During his earlier childhood years, it had been quite often when the Royal Guard had been drafted to find the missing lord, only for one of the servants to find him in the corners of the Great Library, delving into an ancient text to read tales of old, or gain hidden knowledge.

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Re: The White Keep

Post by Omni on Mon Jul 08, 2013 2:04 am

Warm air rushes to greet them as Jon pushes the doors to the great hall open- not to mention the tune of a bard's music, and the smell of delicious food.  Indeed, a feast has been prepared.  Nothing overly elaborate, but a feast nonetheless.  Tables had been set up before the king's throne, and a variety of fruits and vegetables had been laid out as the feast's first course.  After some deliberation and confusion, everyone takes their seats, including the King of Dragonstone Isles, his son, and his men.  King Jon stands up from his seat, briefly, to make a 'speech', raising his goblet.  Most of the room goes silent, including the bard, who had, until now, been content to play away at his lute like there was no tomorrow.

"I'm pretty sodding hungry, so- I'm just going to go ahead and skip the pagentry here, but.." He pauses for a moment, shaking his wine-filled goblet, looking to the King Robert. "It's a been too long, Rob." He looks back out to the rest of the great hall. "Let's eat."

And, with that, the noise resumes, and, of course, people begin to eat.  Jon had, of course, been seated at the center, with Cedric Kaestan, his hand, at his right, and Maya at his left.  The rest of their side of the table had been filled out with a few random members of court- The Court Wizard, the Master of Coin, the head of Jon's Kingsguard, et cetera.  The other side of the table had been seated similarly-  Robert Arristone at center, Bran across from Maya, so on and so forth.
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Re: The White Keep

Post by Double D on Tue Jul 09, 2013 3:41 am

White Keep Gate

His arse ached and his shoulders hung low, for he was not accustomed to long journeys by horseback. For that matter, he was not accustomed to any journey not by sea. But the winds had seen fit to force them to dock south of the Keep. Eight days of slugging through the muddy Northgate roads left the horses nearly as exhausted as the guardsmen who traveled with him. Wearing iron chest plates and carrying an arquebus was hard work, even for the veterans among them.

But finally he and his men found themselves at the gate of the White Keep. It was a welcomed sight. As he approached the towering gate and walls, he called up to the guardsmen in the common tongue, though his voice was peppered with the tell-tale signs of a Kimirian upbringing. The men around him leaned against the wagons they protected, each breathing heavily as they did so.

"I come bearing mercantile goods from Kimir and Far away lands along with the diplomatic words of the Sovereign Trade Confederation. Will you grant us entrance so that I may speak with your Lord and King?"

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Re: The White Keep

Post by Zombiedude101 on Thu Jul 11, 2013 11:23 am

Robert simply rose his own goblet in response to Jon's little 'speech', before quickly swigging from it like a man who'd been dying of thirst. Truth be told he hadn't touched a drop of wine for days, having wanted to keep a clear head for his visit to Jon. Meanwhile, Bran's recent coming-of-age as a 'man' of sixteen years old had meant that he was technically entitled to as much wine as he desired, though the boy was somewhat disdainful of it's strength and instead resigned himself to nursing his cup, much to the taunting of his Uncle Rickard, who had taken to referring to him as 'Dear Nephew' to try and provoke a response.

However, Bran retained much of his father's appetite for the fine foods that came with a feast and was quite content to dine on roasted meats and baked goods. Furthermore, he'd taken a curious interest in Maya Callistan and had spent some time glancing towards her, before continuing to dine on the fine foods laid out before him.

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Re: The White Keep

Post by Omni on Thu Jul 11, 2013 11:07 pm

White Keep, The Great Hall

A guardsman hurries over to the King's side, speaking something to his ear.  Jon nods a few times, before thanking the guard and sending him away.  He looks to Cedric, his Hand. "It appears we have yet more guests.  Kimiri traders, it sounds like.  Mind heading out to greet them?  I'm.." He takes a swig from his goblet. "..A little occupied at the moment." The Hand smirks, nodding, leaving his seat and heading out to the castle's gates.

White Keep Gates

The gates to the Keep's courtyard pull open, revealing Cedric Thaestan, the King's Hand.  He does a brief bow towards the representatives, before speaking.

"You're in luck, lads.  You've come to speak to one of the Northern Kings- both are currently within our halls.  Unfortunately, they are both currently partaking in a feast.  You're welcome to partake in the festivities, but you'll likely not get a chance to speak to the king until later.

White Keep, The Great Hall

Maya, though old enough to drink it, was not a fan of wine.  She liked to keep her mind sharp.  Not that she didn't enjoy watching other people get drunk, however.  She had snuck out of her bedchambers, once, in time to catch a drunken brawl in the courtyard.  That was a fun night.  She took to eating some of the foods layed out before them, occasionally looking up to Bran.

"..I've been told that you.." She pauses, looking for words. "There's a library in the keep, if you'd like, we could.." She doesn't finish the sentence, just kind of awkwardly trailing off.
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Re: The White Keep

Post by Zombiedude101 on Sat Jul 13, 2013 1:07 pm

A smile formed across Bran's face at the mention of a library, and it was anyone's guess what his next answer would be as he briefly pushed his goblet of wine aside.

"Of course, it'd be my pleasure."

Meanwhile, Robert had just finished off his second serving of roasted boar meat and washed it down with a goblet of wine. Whilst he'd briefly noticed his son making conversation with Jon's daughter, the man seemed to be more interested in her father, Jon.

"I suppose we should host another duelling tourney at some point before I leave. Pitting your Kingsguard against mine should do for some good entertainment."

With a brief chuckle, he gestured towards Ser Braevn Krakatos, a great mountain of a man who stood at a height of at least six foot bordering on seven, and wore heavy armour which bore the sigil of his house, alongside a helmet shaped like a Great Kraken which obscured any view of his face. Indeed, there were few on the Dragonstone Isles who were brave or stupid enough to even dare challenging the man in single combat, and he was well known for having cleaved enemies in half with his great axe and shaken off heavy blows during the previous minor rebellions by daring Vassal Houses. Yet, perhaps in the Mainland North he would find a worthy opponent, and at any rate he would have enjoyed the opportunity to fight in the name of the King.

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