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(via devilgoddess)
Posted on March 26, 2012 via ☆☆☆☆☆ with 2,371 notes
Source: totallykawaii
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(via devilgoddess)
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East of Westeros lies the Smoking Sea, where no ship dare sail. There are those who swear it to be demon-haunted, and who’s to say they’re wrong? For it was there, thousands of years ago, that a cataclysmic event occurred, destroying one of the great civilizations in history.
The precise details of their origins are lost to us, but it is said the Valyrians were once a modest community of shepherds, tending their flocks on a small peninsula of the great eastern continent. One fateful day, in a valcanic area known as the Fourteen Fires, they made a shattering discovery - dragons. They were monstrous scaled creatures, with massive wings, sharp claws and fiery breath. They were also said to have a deep-rooted connection to magic.
In time, the Valyrians were able to tame the beasts. Harnessing their immense power, they established a city of wonder unlike any before or since. They became skilled at sorcery and metallurgy, creating uncommon weapons of spell-forged steel. Wielding these weapons, astride their dragons, the Valyrians conquered the surrounding lands and slowly expanded west.
At the time, the Ghiscari Empire dominated much of the great eastern continent, and tried to stop Valyria’s expansion. The Ghiscari legions attacked the Valyrians five times, but could never defeat them. Finally, the Valyrians marched on their capital - Old Ghis - and obliterated it, turning its streets and buildings to ash with dragon flame, and wiping the Ghiscari people and their culture off the face of the earth.
The Freehold of Valyria, as it came to be known, became the most advanced civilization in the known world, with its own language, gods and culture. The Valyrians’ reach extended far and wide, covering most of the continent. Great cities were built and roadways paved, all of which led back to Valyria. The Freehold would prosper for nearly 5,000 years. But it was not to last.
An event that became known only as the Doom laid waste to the Valyrians, their capital city and its surrounding lands. The peninsula itself was shattered, becoming what is now the Smoking Sea. Every dragon was thought to be lost, as were the Valyrians’ spells, knowledge and recorded history. Thus the mighty empire collapsed.
What caused this cataclysm? No one knows for certain. Some say it was a valcanic eruption. Others say the Valyrians’ own sorcery got the better of them. In any event, the Doom’s devastation of the Valyrian people was total… with the exception of a small rocky island in the Narrow Sea - Dragonstone.
For it was there that the Targaryens - the last of Old Valyria - dwelled. They would lie in wait for another hundred years before unleashing the fury of the dragon on another continent - Westeros.
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“Lyanna might have carried a sword, if my lord father had allowed it. You remind me of her sometimes. You even look like her.”
“Lyanna was beautiful,” Arya said, startled. Everybody said so. It was not a thing that was ever said of Arya.
“She was,” Eddard Stark agreed, “beautiful, and willful, and dead before her time.”
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(via devilgoddess)
Posted on March 21, 2012 via Show me your art.... with 29,494 notes
Source: rayn3r
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Posted on March 20, 2012 via Dying of cute with 23 notes
Source: pixdaus.com
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Celebrity Story Time: George R. R. Martin, Part 1/3
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My friend, and an amazing artist, Chris Furniss created a colored version of yesterday’s comic for me! He did those really awesome “31 Days of Samus” comics a little while ago, and also does a nerd culture podcast called the Weekly Geek, and is also a super nice guy with a kick ass apartment.
Posted on February 22, 2012 via Magical Game Time with 6,329 notes
Source: idrawnintendo
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You expected to be sad in the fall. Part of you died each year when the leaves fell from the trees and their branches were bare against the wind and the cold, wintry light. But you knew there would always be the spring, as you knew the river would flow again after it was frozen. When the cold rains kept on and killed the spring, it was as though a young person had died for no reason.
In those days, though, the spring always came finally but it was frightening that it had nearly failed.Ernest Hemingway, A Moveable Feast (via weelittleactress) -
The Crimson Cape Prlg
The Crimson Cape Prlg
Prologue
Remembrances One
“Do you remember when we first met?”
He stood alone in a hall full of people. Men and women danced gracefully arm and arm, flutes and harps played by the kingdoms bards. They strolled about, strumming their instruments. Though their gifts were appreciated, the musicians themselves received as much acknowledgement as the furniture, or passing servant. In their eyes, all was the same.
No one glanced his way, but the beautiful lords and ladies of court kept their distance from him. They knew he was there, but unlike the other implements of the noble-high he was one to be avoided, not in the sense that he was unimportant. No. They feared him. Only those who sought the death of another would seek him, but even then they would not speak with him, but his wizard master, and it quite tones, or words laced in mystery.
All knew what he was, and who pulled his strings. He was a puppet. He knew it. They knew it. The entire kingdom knew it. Though puppet he might be, no one was fool enough to approach him, or gall him in anyway. You did not twittle your fingers at a chained lion, even if you stood beyond the length of the chain. Though the chain may be thick, you did not put your faith in the man that held it, particularly if that man was a wizard, who all knew were devious men of dark arts. How else would they be able to bend a monster to their will? A monster indeed, in human skin mayhap, but a monster still.
Rayoun stood with his arms across his chest, watching the little birds twitter and play with one another. They flew free without prospect what the end of the night might bring. The master wizard, Kalizen, had instructed him to display himself where he could not be missed. Tonight, he wore a cape of deep crimson silk, and an outfit of black. A thick, golden, ruby studded collar hung about his neck. He’d worn it for longer than he cared to remember. It grew as he did; a part of him, a semblance of his imprisonment.
He was young and had been young when he first washed his hands in blood. Of the innocent, or the guilty, it did not matter they all met the same end. They called him the Crimson Shadow or the Wizard’s blade. Those names were known throughout the kingdoms. Parents used those names to scare children into keeping out of trouble. Tales were told of him by drunken farmer and sober lords alike. Stories spread across the land and those stories were heard by great and dark men, and they came to King Belorn’s castle to seek the wizard Kalizen, to seek the Crimson Shadow.
He was alone, and then he was not. A girl had met his eyes, a surprising intrusion. A mocking smile played across her lips. Without breaking her stare, she came to him. The waters parted for her, people moved without seeming to realize they were doing so. At last she stood before him. There was a glamor about her of a mystical nature. She was beautiful, creamy dark skin, and long brown hair falling in ringlets. She wore a white dress, free flowing and tight about the top. Around her throat was a silver collar studded with red stones. She noticed he had seen the collar, and her smile widened.
”It is unbefitting of a lord to stand alone at a ball.” She said, eyes never leaving his.
Rayoun gave no reply. No one spoke to him at court, no one spoke to him at all. He could not tear his eyes from hers.
She tisked and spoke again in that same mocking tone. “It is rude, you know, to stare at a woman without even asking her name.”
”You are not a woman,” Rayoun said. “just as I am not a man. What is it you want?”
The smile remained in place, but some of her playful brashness left her. She turned and nodded her head. Rayoun followed her gesture and saw a woman of dark aura speaking to his master. He had but to look at her once and he knew she was no ordinary lady. She had power, power enough to match Kalizen’s. Wizard and Enchantress spoke to one another, all smiles and flashing teeth, but Rayoun knew there was no kindness in his master’s eye.
The girl touched his arm. “Let them eat each other.”
He looked to her once more.
”Time is what we do not have, but here we are, and in this moment we are man and woman so let us act as such. Good, lord, will you not dance with me?”
”Fine lady, it is not your place to ask.” Rayoun said shocked at how quickly he’d grasp the rope she’d thrown. He took her by the hand and led her to the dance floor. People scattered from them as if they were plagued, some forgetting to pretend that they could not see them.
He knew the steps, though he rarely danced. At times he had to not be the Crimson Shadow, and she matched his step, hand on his shoulder. They looked into each other’s eyes, relishing in a moment that was theirs, and theirs alone.
”They call me the Light of the Moon.” She whispered and he spun her. “Or the Silverdeath.”
”They call me the Crimson Shadow and the Wizard’s blade. How did you come by those names?”
”Mayhap we’ll dance again, and I will show you.”
And just as soon as it had begun it ended. She broke from him, coming to her mistress’s call, and he came to stand alone once again. His master watched him. The whole ball watched him, though they pretended that they did not.
No one spoke to the Crimson Shadow, no one spoke to the Wizards Blade. But that evening, the Shadow danced with the Moon, and that was not an unnatural thing.
Ello, super awesome person here. I'm am at the moment hiding behind my secret identity TheSniffer, or perhaps not to secret. If you were to truly meet me in person you're heart would stop do to the sheer awesomeness that it me.
I'm currently residing in a hidden cave off in the middle of nowhere. It's my contribution to the world. I grow tired of watching people drop to the ground dead after meeting me soo... yes...
Enjoy ME! TheSniffer!
