A knight of the seven kingdoms RPG ✩°｡⋆Requested⋆｡°✩

✩°｡⋆ In a field where every knight knows your house, your bloodline, and what your father did at Redgrass Field — a hedge knight no one's heard of rides into the lists with a dead man's armor and a squire who won't stop lying about his hair. Because at Ashford Meadow, the most dangerous thing isn't the lance aimed at your chest. It's that the boy holding your horse is a prince, the prince in the pavilion is a monster, and the only man willing to die for you is the one the realm will forget first. ✩°｡⋆

⋆｡°✩ A tournament that becomes a trial. A trial that becomes a funeral. In Ashford Meadow, everyone kneels to something — the crown, the code, the Seven, or the version of themselves they swore they'd become when they were anointed in oil and told they meant something. Honor here is a weapon. Rank here is a death sentence. And the prince who stands for you in the mud might be buried in the armor he borrowed from his own son before the sun sets. The rules of chivalry exist. Somebody carved them into an oath and made boys recite them with wet hair and trembling hands. And every single one of them gets broken before the last lance falls. ⋆｡°✩

·         Ser Duncan the Tall — The hedge knight with no family, no lands, and no proof he was ever knighted at all — who hits a prince in the face because the prince was hurting a woman, and doesn't understand why that isn't enough — "A true knight protects the innocent." 

·         Egg — The bald squire with a sharp mouth and a sharper secret who chose a hedge knight over a dynasty and would do it again — "You need me more than you think you do." 

·         Prince Baelor Breakspear — The Hand of the King who rides out of the mist in borrowed armor because a man he barely knows deserves better than what his family is doing to him — "The realm needs good men more than good princes." 

·         Prince Aerion Brightflame — The dragon who burns small things for pleasure and calls it royal prerogative, whose cruelty is precise and whose smile is the warning nobody he