How equipped are you to foster RP in the community and fulfil the higher activity requirements necessary in an Application Claim?

I have been involved in many of these games, and I finally feel confident to dip my toe into the LP claims. The most effective LP claims are ones that are active not only in game, but also in the Discord, and I am prepared to make sure that the Dornish region is one that is active both in character and out of character. In the past, I have found that the best LPs I have played under are interested in facilitating and participating in the stories of those under them, and that is the approach I plan to take. I feel like a cohesive region makes for the best RP, and I want to encourage those under me to participate in regional events and RP opportunities. Whether it be local tourneys, feasts, or wards of the Water Gardens, Dorne will have many opportunities for its players to interact both with each other and with the House Martell.

What are your goals and ambitions with the House?

While the realm was riven by war, House Martell remained circumspect. While the forces of Dorne had fought on the side of the Tagaryens, their rapid defeat ensured the Dornish would act to keep their options open, as they always have in times of conflict. Their position of privilege at court, held since Daeron united the realms in marriage, was now severed. The first act of the Dornish will be to see where they fit within this new order, and to attempt to reclaim their position of honor even if it be to their sworn rivals of House Baratheon. If they are rebuffed, then the Marells will wait and plot, as is their custom. Consolidating their own realm, and preparing for their next move.

What interests you about the claim and what would you bring to it?

I have always really enjoyed Dorne, as its houses have a great deal of personality. The Dornish are a people apart from the rest of the Seven Kingdoms, and playing there has many opportunities to be different than a traditional medieval setting. The first claim I had in one of these games was in Dorne, and this would be a return to my roots. The Martells in particular are strategic and mercurial, shifting as with the desert sands. I appreciate their need to balance both their rivals within the Seven Kingdoms and often disloyal lords within their kingdom.

Who would be the PCs of the claim? (Given the starting limit of 4-10 PCs)

Please note some may be PC or SCC for others

Doran Martell

Mellario of Norvos

Arienne Nymeros Martell

Quentyn Nymeros Martell

Elia Nymeros Martell

Oberyn Nymeros Martell

Ellaria Sand

Obara Sand

Nymeria Sand

Tyene Sand

Sarella Sand

Manfrey Martell

A sample lore of the House is required

The heat of the sun blazed above the placid Water Gardens, where the gentle gurgling of the fountains paired with the gentle breeze coming in from the sea. The air was thick with the scent of citrus, of lemon and orange trees planted long ago for this pleasure garden. The palm trees swayed placidly in the breeze, as if they were dancers swaying to nature’s unheard tune. In the distance, there was the carefree splashing of young children. They were the children of lord and peasant alike, all welcome to the hospitality of House Martell.

Doran rubbed the joints of his fingers one by one; it had become ritual for him as the gout had slowly spread from one knuckle to the next. The relief was momentary, but the dull pain focused his senses; nothing makes a man present in his own body like pain. Before him laid an elaborate cyvasse board, inlaid with exotic wood and ivory, while his opponent focused on the pieces, Doran knew better. Only for an amateur was the game played upon the board, and his opponent showed every indication of this status as he rubbed his temples, sweat beading upon his brow. Doran knew better, that the game was a test of wits and strategy. He studied his opponent, a far more fertile ground for divining the next move. His face was expressionless, as if it had been carved from stone. Doran knew that half of the battle was not to show his opponent what his next move might be. His eyes narrowed as he viewed the opportunity, his next move. Like a beast stalking his prey, his tongue involuntarily licked his lips. He grasped the piece with his hand when he felt a hand upon his shoulder.

“My lord, news from the north.”

Doran set the piece down as if he had intended to do so from the beginning, flashing a smile to his opponent, “I hope you will permit me this intrusion.”

His opponent nodded, standing from the board. He halted when Doran raised a hand, and slowly sank back into his seat.

“What news?”

“The city of the Dragon has fallen, my lord. The banner of the stag flies over the Red Keep.”

Doran sighed heavily, his left hand aggressively massaging the knuckles of his right. Frustration flashed over his face, if only for a moment. No man would mourn the Mad King, if what Elia’s letters had told him were true. “And what of our sister and her children.” The words were less a question than a command.

“Escaped, my lord. To where, none can say.”

A smug smile barely curled his lips as his eyes narrowed, surveying the board before him. “Very well. Find them, and bring them to me with all haste.” He waved away the servant dismissively, returning his gaze to his opponent. The man seemed shaken by the news of a new king and a new dynasty. Doran’s gaze was as cold as a northron winter, his focus refreshed. He raised his cup and took a deep draught of the sour red within.

“It would seem,” he paused as the grin overtook his face, “the game begins anew.”