Creepy and Kooky

Mace's brows furrowed. Who in their right mind sends bats of all creatures to carry messages? Maester Lomys was highly surprised when the animal burst into the rookery and startled all the ravens within. But the flying rodent was the least surprising part of this whole affair. He already read the letter twice and could scarcely believe what was written in it. This must have been a jape at his expense, an elaborate trick.

"Well, don't tarry and do read it for us, Mace!" His mother demanded. He deeply loved her, but she could sometimes test his patience. He sighed and began reading aloud so that she, his sons Willas and Garlan as well as his beloved wife Alerie could learn what he already knew.

To Lord Mace Tyrell, Lord of Highgarden and Warden of the South

I, Gomez Addams would like to greet you in the name of House Addams and all its members who have been mysteriously transported by methods unknown to your lands. Our homes have been placed near the river Mander, northwest of your castle Highgarden and east of a castle named Cider Hall. Though this land is as unknown to us as we are unknown to you, we would like to extend a plea of peaceful relations and coexistence. Our families have more to offer than sometimes meets the eye and as such our relations could also prove rewarding to House Tyrell.

We Gladly Feast on Those Who Would Subdue Us

Gomez Addams, Patriarch of House Addams

Silence followed, as Mace expected. However, it was briefly interrupted by his mother, known for her quick wit and sharp tongue.

"Well, at least their house words are something to behold."


Raising Seven Hells

The strange box lay on the chamber floor, nearly forgotten.

Ser Criston Cole struggled against the hooked chains piercing his flesh. The pain was beyond measure, but he fought in battles before, pain was no stranger to him.

The creatures standing before him however, brought forth a feeling of utter fear to him. Mutilated in ways that would make normal men crippled, yet they walked just fine. Fingers torn off and replaced with sharp blades, nails and bolts in their flesh. One even had pieces of Myrish glass in both his eyes.

"W-who are you?" He asked them, stuttering through the pain. What a Kingsguard he was now, damned by his curiosity. He should have never touched Maegor's Box.

The female one, with a face lacking any skin came closer to him and gave a mocking curtsy.

"Explorers, in the further regions of experience. Demons to some, angels to others."


Hijacking the Plot

I open my eyes, utterly shocked that my awareness still exists after the cold embrace of death. Until my eyes closed forever, I was convinced that there is nothing after we expire. It appears I was wrong, of course. Still, something's wrong. This is no heaven or hell as described in any mythology or religion I am familiar with. Nor is it the endless darkness either, in fact it is quite bright.

Bright, and, well, cold. Freezing, in fact. The sort of biting, unpleasant, horrifying cold that I took great care to avoid in life. And yet, I feel none of the pain which always come paired with the lack of warmth. Actually, I feel nothing.

I look around and see and endless, snowy landscape. Ice and snow as far as the eye can see, with some mountains in the distance to the south (I think). I flex my fingers and realize something strange, they are chalk-white. I was fairly pale in my life, but not to that point.

Around me in a circle stand several figures, all just as pale like me. Though they all seem clearly male, while I remain female as I was in my life. They all have long, silver hair and blue eyes shining like starlight. They are dressed in shining, nearly translucent medieval armor which is almost blinding to look at. Meanwhile I am only dressed in a loose, white dress, which in design reminds me of a wedding dress without any fancy additions.

I notice the males seem to look at me expectantly. I attempt to speak, but the only sound I hear is the scratching of ice. Then, memories of the Song of Ice and Fire come back to me all at once. Oh.