I woke with a start. Where am I?
I didn't remember anything...except my name, Malik Thorn.
As I sat up, I saw people of all shapes and sizes milling about. One of them came up to me and extended his hand to help me up. I eyed his hand warily, but let him help me up. "Thanks," I said, dusting myself off.
"No problem. What's your name?"
"Malik. What's yours?"
"I'm Castor," he answered with a smile. "Welcome to Regalia. You know, if you'd be interested, my faction is recruiting."
"What's a faction?"
"It's...a group of people who pay a small tax to the faction leader, in exchange for food, housing, jobs, and protection."
"Sounds good! How do I join?"
"You'll have to talk to the leader, Jaeherys. (Jay-HAIR-iss) He's a good man, I'm sure he'll be pleased to meet you. Come on, follow me."
He brought me to Jaeherys' castle, where the king was talking to someone in a green robe. The green-robed man turned towards me, and I had a better look at him. His hair was raven black, and his robes were decorated with an ornate pattern. On a closer look, I noticed that his eyes were a deep red. Strange.
The king turned to face me. His lavish red and gold robes covered a lean but muscular body. He had chocolate-brown hair and a short beard. His brown eyes were kind, and seemed to hold a wealth of knowledge behind them. I bowed, getting down on one knee and lowering my head.
He laughed. His laugh was soft and kind, despite his strong appearance. "Rise," he said.
I did. Castor spoke up. "This is Malik Thorn. He wanted to join our faction."
Jaeherys walked over to me and looked me in the eye. He extended his hand, and I shook it. "Pleased to meet you, Malik," he said with a smile. "Welcome to the faction of Westeros."
