[RPG • 100] House of the Dragon| Speeltopic - Speeltopics

27 juli 2024 - 15:38 ziggystardust is offline

HOUSE
^{^{𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕯𝖗𝖆𝖌𝖔𝖓}}

╓┈♔◦☓◦☙◦♔◦☙◦☓◦♔┈╖
rollentopic
praattopic • praattopic II • praattopic III
praattopic IV • praattopic V • praattopic VI
speeltopic I
Map of King's Landing

Storyline

King's Landing is sinds Aegon's Verovering het centrum van de macht in Westeros. De jonge Targaryen koning Aegon the Conqueror veroverde Westeros samen met zijn queen-sisters en hun draken. Nu heersen zij vanuit de hoofdstad over het continent. Aan het hof van de Targaryen's verblijven de machtigste adelijken van het land, samen met hun hofhouding.

Nu, één jaar na de verovering van heel Westeros, is de grote zaal van de Red Keep rijk versierd met Targaryen-banners, drakenmotieven en weelderige bloemstukken. De zaal wordt gevuld met muziek terwijl adellijke families samenkomen om de eenwording van Westeros onder Targaryen-heerschappij te vieren. Ter ere van het éénjarig jubileum van Aegon's Verovering wordt een debutantenbal georganiseerd. Dit bal dient als een gelegenheid om huwbare edelen te presenteren voor potentiële huwelijken, waarmee allianties worden gesmeed en de stabiliteit van het nieuwe rijk wordt versterkt.

Regels van het Hof

Deze regels helpen om de orde, respect en veiligheid binnen het Targaryen hof te handhaven en zorgen ervoor dat het hofleven soepel en volgens protocol verloopt:

Basisinformatie

Deze RPG speelt zich af aan het hof in King's Landing, ongeveer 300 jaar voor de gebeurtenissen in "House of the Dragon".

Situatie voor Aegon's Vervovering - De Zeven Regerende Families

Vóór Aegon's Verovering (ook bekend als Aegon's Conquest) waren er verschillende grote huizen die over de Zeven Koninkrijken van Westeros heersten. Elke regio had zijn eigen heersende huis:

• Kingdom of the North (Het Noorden) - Het Huis Stark regeerde als koningen van het Noorden vanuit Winterfell.
• Kingdom of the Mountain and the Vale (De Vale) - Het Huis Arryn heerste over de Vale van Arryn.
• Kingdom of the Isles and Rivers (De Rivierenlanden) - Het Huis Hoare (House Hoare) regeerde over de Rivierenlanden vanuit Harrenhal.
• Kingdom of the Rock (De Westlanden) - Het Huis Lannister was het heersende huis in de Westlanden vanuit Casterly Rock.
• Kingdom of the Stormlands (De Stormlanden) - Het Huis Durrandon regeerde over de Stormlanden vanuit Storm's End.
• Kingdom of the Reach (Het Bereik) - Het Huis Gardener was de heersende dynastie in het Bereik vanuit Highgarden.
• Princedom of Dorne (Dorne) - Dorne werd geregeerd door verschillende vorstenhuizen, zoals het Huis Martell vanuit Sunspear.

Situatie na Aegon's Vervovering - Targaryen heerschappij

Na Aegon's Conquest waren er geen onafhankelijke koningen meer in de Zeven Koninkrijken van Westeros. Na Aegon's Conquest werden alle eerdere koninkrijken verenigd onder de heerschappij van de Targaryens. De titels van koning werden afgeschaft voor alle regionale heersers behalve voor de koning op de IJzeren Troon, dat is Aegon momenteel. Hij heert samen met zijn twee sisterqueens Visenya and Rhaenys. ~~Ja ze zijn siblings en met elkaar getrouwd.~~ De oude regionale heersers dienden als leenmannen van de Targaryen-koningen. De belangrijkste leenmannen van Aegon de Veroveraar waren:

• House Stark - Lords van Winterfell en het Noorden.
• House Arryn - Lords van de Vale van Arryn.
• House Lannister - Lords van Casterly Rock en de Westlanden.
• House Baratheon - Lords van Storm's End en de Stormlanden.
• House Gardener - Lords van Highgarden en het Bereik (voor hun ondergang in de Field of Fire).
• House Martell - Lords van Sunspear en Dorne (na hun vredige overgave).

Deze huizen, samen met andere regionale heersers, erkenden Aegon als hun koning nadat hij met zijn draken en legers Westeros had veroverd. Ze behielden een mate van autonomie in hun respectievelijke regio's, maar waren verplicht om Aegon te dienen en belastingen en troepen bij te dragen wanneer dat nodig was.

Personages

Rollen kunnen een highborn of een lowborn inwoner van King's Landing zijn. Ze kunnen zowel uit Westeros als Essos afkomstig zijn, al zullen de meeste leden van het hof afkomstig zijn uit Westeros.

High borns

Als hooggeborene ben je een lid van de adel en speel je een belangrijke rol aan het hof. Je kan een lid zijn van de Targaryen familie of een van de andere adelijke families in Westeros. Je kunt, maar dat hoeft niet, een van de volgende posities bekleden:

• ~~Hand van de Koning~~ - De belangrijkste adviseur en rechterhand van de koning, beheert de dagelijkse zaken van het koninkrijk.
• ~~Meester van de Wetten~~ - Toezicht op de handhaving van wetten en het beheer van gerechtigheid.
• Meester van de Munt - Beheert de financiën en schatkist van het koninkrijk, zorgt voor economische stabiliteit.
• Meester van Schepen - Verantwoordelijk voor de koninklijke marine en de verdediging van de kustlijnen van het koninkrijk.
• ~~Meester van Whisperers~~ - Verantwoordelijk voor inlichtingen en spionage, verzamelt informatie ter bescherming van het rijk.
• Lord Commander van de Kingsguard - Leidt de elite Kingsguard, zorgt voor de veiligheid van de koninklijke familie.
• Hoge Septoon - De hoogste religieuze figuur, biedt spirituele leiding en houdt toezicht op religieuze ceremonies.
• Warden - Adellijke heren die verantwoordelijk zijn voor de veiligheid en het beheer van specifieke regio's (~~Noord~~, Oost, Zuid, West).
• Hofdames - Adellijke vrouwen die de koningin en prinsessen dienen, hen assisteren met verschillende taken en gezelschap bieden.

Invullijstje High borns

Low borns

De Low borns werken aan het hof. Zij zijn niet afkomstig uit een adellijke familie, maar kunnen wel bastaarden van die families zijn. Alle low borns in de rpg moeten een baan hebben aan het hof, deze banen zijn :

• Drakenhouders - Verzorgen en beheren de draken van de Targaryens. [2/2]
• Rentmeesters - Verantwoordelijk voor het beheer van het huishouden, het toezicht op de voorraden en het coördineren van dagelijkse activiteiten. [0/2]
• Kamermeisjes/Kamerdienaars - Verzorging van de persoonlijke behoeften van edelen, zoals het schoonmaken van kamers, het voorbereiden van kleding en helpen met aankleden. [1/2]
• Keukenpersoneel - Koks, bakkers en assistenten die maaltijden bereiden voor het hof. [0/2]
• Staljongens - Verzorgen de paarden en onderhouden de stallen, zorgen ervoor dat de rijdieren klaar zijn voor reizen en evenementen. [0/2]
• Wachters/Schutters - Zorgen voor de beveiliging van het kasteel en zijn inwoners, bewaken ingangen en patrouilleren over het terrein. [0/2]
• Boodschappers/Koeriers - Brengen berichten binnen het kasteel en naar nabijgelegen locaties, zorgen voor soepele communicatie. [0/2]
• Entertainers - Muzikanten, dansers en narren die optreden voor het hof tijdens evenementen en bijeenkomsten. [1/2]

Invullijstje Low borns

Rollen

Regels van de RPG

• Het woordenminimum is 100 woorden.
• De huisregels van Quizlet en daarbij in het bijzonder het RPG-forum gelden uiteraard ook hier.
• 16+ is toegestaan, maar gelieve hier wel voor te waarschuwen zodat anderen het kunnen mijden als zij het liever niet lezen.
• Bespreek gevoelige onderwerpen op voorhand met je schrijfpartner.
• Als eternalsunshine niet online is, maakt de laatste die reageert een nieuw topic.
• Maximaal 3 characters per schrijver.
• Als ik 21 dagen niets van je hoor, stuur ik je een reminder PB.
• Als je 45 dagen niets post, wordt je char opgeofferd in een blood sacrifice.
• Reserveringen blijven 10 dagen staan.

When a Targaryen is born, the gods flip a coin.
One side greatness, the other madness.

[ bericht aangepast op 23 sep 2024 - 11:18 ]

and the spiders from mars

5 nov 2024 - 19:25 Kiramman is offline

Kiramman 12021

Ser Emrys Dayne
29 | Lord Commander of the Kingsguard | with Nehemia at the bathhouse

''Well...''
Emrys looked up from the scroll they were reading when they heard Nehemia's voice closeby. They couldn't help but look a bit shocked, as they took in the sight of the princess of Dorne standing before them, glass of red wine in hand and a facial expression they recognized all too well. It usually meant bad luck. Emrys swallowed visibly.
''It has been a while since the two of us have talked,'' she continued. Just two days, Emrys thought to themself, though they knew that wasn't what she'd meant. And it barely counted anyways, considering she hadn't spoken to them directly at the ball. More, over and through them. Emrys had never during their years at Dorne felt like they were less than the princess, but the ball changed all that. I deserve it, Emrys thought, after all that's happened. Realizing their inner monologue didn't count for conversation, Emrys scrapped their throat.
''Four years,'' they replied matter-of-factly. It had happened one year before Aegon landed on the hills at Blackwater's mouth. If Emrys were to think too long about everything that had happened in such a short time period, they'd go insane.
''What did Bolton mean, at the ball, when he said you were cozying up to his wife? Was it before, or after you betrayed Dorne and went to work for the Targaryens?'' Emrys' look of shock came right back. They should've anticipated this - Nehemia had never been one to beat around the bush. It saddened them to think that was the only reason she came over to speak to them, but Emrys also felt a little pang of hope - if she had been bothered by that off-handed comment or the fact they're still alive, working for Dorne's enemy, maybe that meant she still cared for them?
Nervously, Emrys' eyes darted around the room. There were only a handful of other high borns present, a servant or two and another Kingsguard, yet Emrys felt like even their lowered voices carried around the room.
Knowing better than to touch Nehemia without her permission, Emrys motioned with their head to follow them outside. A little patio with high trees and a fresh sea-breeze. The breeze did wonders for Emrys' sweat underneath the heavy armor. Emrys decided to answer one accusation at a time.
''I met Lady Haelle Manderly,'' Emrys purposefully didn't use her husband last name, ''during my time staying with House Rosby, after- '' their voice broke off. Emrys still couldn't speak out what had happened, especially not to Nehemia. ''She was my friend. And then she had to marry Lord Domeric Bolton. She hated him.'' Emrys gritted their teeth. Unconsciously, their hand balled into a fist. ''She hated living with him and didn't want to bear his child. So we made a plan for her to escape, to Essos. I will not apologize for aiding a friend in need to anyone.'' Emrys looked Nehemia directly in the eye, but their gaze remained soft. How could it not be, when looking at the woman who had been their entire life. ''Though, I will beg for your discretion. For her safety. I do not know what her family or the Boltons would do if they found out she is still alive.'' Emrys hadn't heard from Haelle in a couple of weeks - but this wasn't something unusual. Sending letters across the Narrow Sea took a lot of time and effort.
''Concerning the second offence laid to my charge, I can only tell you how sorry I am.'' Emrys treaded their hands and fingers together, in a casually praying stance. They wanted to look away from Nehemia's piercing eyes, look anywhere but her, because looking at her was looking at their failure. They had spent the last four years trying to face it, thinking about what they would say when the moment arrived. And now nothing else came out except for: ''I could not face you. The shame of my failure was too big. The prince and princess- '' their voice trailed off. Emrys swallowed visibly again. This was so much harder than they thought it would be - and they had anticipated for the worst. ''Your parents... I could not face you,'' they repeated. It felt flat. Even though it was the truth, it felt like it wasn't enough.
Emrys wanted to fall before her feet, cry, shout, tell her to hit them. Tell her to yell and shout at them.
''I will not ask for your forgiveness because I do not deserve it, habibi.'' Emrys whispered. Nehemia's nickname just slipped out. It was the second time it had happened. The lord commander straightened their back. They were looking at their feet now, like a punished child. If only Valerion could see them now, cowering before a woman - he'd make a mockery out of them. Emrys did not care.

[ bericht aangepast op 5 nov 2024 - 19:34 ]

kindness is never a burden.

5 nov 2024 - 20:24 Kiramman is offline

Kiramman 12021

T H E S T R A N G E R
^{AERON GREYJOY

^{qhomir hoare

31 ☩ With Celia in the bathhouse}}

Qhomirs eyes remained on the woman's face, yet he noticed the distinct red and golden robe she was wearing too. It seemed strange to him, to wear one's House colors so boldly, especially considering - as he had thought before - there could be no doubt this woman was a Lannister. She did not need any symbolism for it.
Neither the Hoares nor the Greyjoys had much business with the Lannisters, but Qhomir had encountered a few of them over the years. He had attended a jousting tourney before the Conquest at Casterly Rock, when the Lannisters had been Kings still. Qhomir could not remember if he had seen the blonde haired woman there before, but it was possible. He guessed her age to be just about twenty, so he had some years on her. Qhomir liked faces, but had trouble remembering them.
''A servant who dares to speak to a noble woman without being spoken to first? How interesting. How scandalous." The woman spoke, looking him up and down. She inched a little closer and Qhomir straightened up. "Why don't we start with your name and an apology? And then we can talk about those services of any kind you talk about.''
When she took a grape from the platter he was still holding up, he bowed his head again, but there was a faint smile visible on his lips. She was right, but his boldness had granted him the opening he wanted.
''Of course, my Lady,'' he replied. ''I beg your forgiveness for my imprudence. If my Lady pleases, the name is Aeron. Greyjoy.'' There was a small beat between the first and last name. Qhomir set the platter of fruit down and took her hand into his, kissing it soft and quick. ''A pleasure.''
Qhomir took a respectful step back. The lady was dressed in nothing but a robe and he did not want servants to speak ill of her. He cocked his head a little as he pondered: ''I must have the honor of speaking to a Lady Lannister, I presume? Now, if my memory does not fail me, you must either be Lady Cerelle or Lady Celia.'' His eyes glanced over her face. She looked young. ''But I have heard the rumors of the beauty of the Lion's Pride, so you must be the lady Celia Lannister.'' Qhomir was not flirting. He made sure his tone remained very matter-of-factly, as to not offend the lady any more than he already had. Yet he also dared to take the liberty of speaking out of turn, as she had called him interesting and scandalous. Qhomir would only agree with the first.

kindness is never a burden.

6 nov 2024 - 16:09 ziggystardust is offline

ziggystardust 986

DOMERIC
^{^{House Bolton}}

꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷

A naked man has few secrets; a flayed man, none

The ravens had been arriving since the morning after the Ball. Haelle Bolton was alive and she was in Westeros. Domeric could tell his father was ecstatic from the wording and the loose, hurried handwriting in his messages. The orders were clear: reunite with Haelle immediately, make their rekindling known to the world, and return to the Dreadfort after the festivities as a married couple.
But Domeric wanted nothing to do with it. He hadn’t spoken to Haelle and had no plans to. His heart was already claimed by Lethia, who was also in the capital, and as far as he was concerned, the chapter with Haelle was firmly closed.

Then a new raven arrived, bringing startling news: Haelle had been seen with a child. A dark-haired little girl. That changed everything. Domeric’s cold feelings toward Haelle would never warm, but this little human could be his. And there was no world in which he wouldn’t play a role in his child’s life.
Even though he hadn’t slept well, Domeric felt wide awake after reading the scroll, energized by a renewed purpose. Somehow, he would have to build a life that included both his love for Lethia and the possibility of a child, but he was certain he’d find a way. Being confined within Aegon’s Fort felt wrong; the warm-colored stones and enemies on all sides were suffocating. So Domeric had asked Lethia to meet him by the open beach of Blackwater Bay.

He had been afraid she wouldn’t come. For all he knew, she had fled the Dreadfort, never to reunite with him again. But that wasn’t what he’d seen in her eyes at the Ball. Until now, all he could do was hope. Lethia stood out, as she always did: bright red hair, pale skin. Just the sight of her at this beach was a blessing from the Old Gods alone. Domeric’s legs couldn’t carry him fast enough. The distance between him and Lethia had to disappear. Every inch that separated them was one too many.
She looked over her shoulder. When he saw her face, Domeric came to a halt. More than anything, he wanted to hold her. Safe in his arms, to feel her skin and know, beyond doubt, that she was truly here. Alive and well. But something held him back. What if he had misinterpreted what he’d seen in her eyes? She slipped off the stone she was sitting on and made her way towards him.
“There you are,” she said softly. Her voice was a warm embrace. She reached out to his hand, squeezing it softly. Her body shakes as she takes a quavering breath. She rubbed her thumb over Domeric’s knuckle. “We match.” She showed the palms of her hand. He grinned, holding back a laugh, not allowing his heart to leap as it longed to until he was certain she was here for the same reason he was.

And then she looked up. Their eyes met and Domeric found his home. “I… I truly thought I-I was losing my mind, the night of the ball.” she swallowed. “I thought that you were dead. He, Baelish, he told me you were dead.” Another deep breath, tears filling her eyes. “Please tell me you are real.”
It was all the confirmation Domeric needed. He embraced Lethia, pulling her close. Her touch, something he had stopped believing in long ago, was real. Love. True love. He hadn’t thought a feeling like this existed until he felt it when Lethia was in his arms. It had been that way many years ago, and it was the same now, here on the beach at Blackwater Bay.
“I’m real,” Domeric whispered, his lips brushing against her thick, curly hair. “I’m here.” He lifted her off the ground, raising her so their faces met. Holding her tight, he would never let her go. He wasn’t going to lose her again.
He pressed their foreheads together. Only when he opened his eyes did he realize there were tears in them, too.
“I want to say I’d have Baelish’s head for lying to you,” he whispered, his voice hoarse, “but I’ve heard someone already beat me to it.” He couldn’t help but smile. If Lethia was alive and Baelish was dead, it wasn’t difficult to figure out what happened. Gods, how could he not adore this woman? “What are you doing here? Is your cat here with you as well? Did the Targaryens treat you right?”

Our Blades Are Sharp

[ bericht aangepast op 6 nov 2024 - 16:10 ]

and the spiders from mars

6 nov 2024 - 20:54 Kiramman is offline

Kiramman 12021

TARGARYEN
^{^{^{^AELOR}}}
^{^{the cruel}}
24 ⚜ Prince of the Seven Kingdoms ⚜ With Visenya in her private quarters of the bathhouse

Aelor stayed hidden under the water for a few seconds. The smell of the rose petals filled his nostrils. With one hand he began scooping them out, and laid them on the tiles surrounding the bath. Too sweet, too poignant. He would smell like flowers for the rest of the day. Aelor felt Visenya's gaze on him, and then her shins against his under the water. He stopped scooping out the petals, and fully emerged above water again. The water dripped down his neck.
''Why would you think the acolyte has any other business than brewing my personal moontea, Ae?'' she asked. He didn't like her tone. He didn't like how casually she lied to him. His eyes turned into little slits and he was sure his facial expression was reminiscent of a thunderstorm. She continued as if she didn't notice: ''And regarding Haelle, tell me what I need to know. I have no reason, at this point, to question her story… but your opinion means the world to me. So enlighten me, brother.'' Before he could answer, Visenya called in one of her servants, and ordered the girl to invite Haelle Bolton to tea sometime soon.
Aelor waited until the servant had left, before he spoke. ''I don't like it when you take me for a fool, sister.'' He nearly spat out the last word. ''I saw him, snooping around the Dragon's Pit yesterday.'' Or was it the day before? Aelor had spent the previous day flying Baspian. The small dragon keeper girl had aided him with getting the dragon ready, but in between scolding her for her incompetence, he had noticed others hoovering about. He hadn't been sure if the others had been there because of the Dragon Hatching festival - or if it had been something else. But the royal family sharpening the citywide safety precautions wasn't something that was easily left unnoticeable. ''Mother told me.'' Visenya - the queen - hadn't actually told him, he had simply overheard her and Rhaenys speaking about it.
Aelor's eyes darted around the room, until they fixated on a serving tray with a pitcher of something on it and some cups. He pushed himself out of the bath, walked over to the tray, leaving a trail of water behind him, and poured himself a small cup. He took a little sip, to taste. It wasn't wine, but it was something fruity. He poured two glasses and returned to the bath - repositioning as he had before. He handed her the cup, set his aside and stretched his arms out and wide, as far as he could reach.
''Aegon send me to rescue Haelle Bolton, on her father's orders,'' he explained to Visenya. He didn't feel the need to lie to her. The fact that she seemingly did, rubbed him very wrong. ''We found her with her captor in Essos. For someone who was taken against her will by that merchant, she strangely pleaded to not have him killed.'' Aelor of course killed the man anyways. Abduction a Lady of a Great House was an act of war, and there needed to be repercussions of the same degree. ''He's dead now obviously.'' It had been a quick death, sadly. If Aelor had had the time, he would've made the man suffer some more for his actions. Alas, Manderly's orders had been to bring her back as swiftly as possible.
''So whatever sanctuary you think of granting her, think again.'' Aegon took another big gulp from the cup, spilling a little due to sheer overindulgence. He shrugged. ''It doesn't really matter what you want, anyway. Aegon has a deal with Lord Manderly.''

[ bericht aangepast op 9 nov 2024 - 12:13 ]

kindness is never a burden.

9 nov 2024 - 23:59 lustforlife is offline

lustforlife 904

_{_{CELIA LANNISTER}}
THE LION'S PRIDE

Lady Celia Lannister of Casterly Rock • The Golden Daughter • 22 • in a pretty red and golden robe • with Qhomir • in the bathhouse

It was strange to have a servant call after her like this. According to the rules, the man shouldn't have approached her. If she had needed him, she would have let that be known on her own terms. A servant, who was trusted enough to be placed in such a vulnerable place like this, should've been aware of that. Celia did not like his disregard for etiquette and so, she asked for an apology.
''Of course, my Lady," the servant replied, head bowed. ''I beg your forgiveness for my imprudence." There was a faint smile visible on his lips. It made Celia question how sincere the mans apology really was. "If my Lady pleases, the name is Aeron." Aeron. The name felt weird for a servant, or maybe it just felt weird to now know it. She didn't even know the names of the servants back at Casterly Rock.
Unlike her last name, the last names of servants often did not hold any value to them and so she was not surprised, when there was nothing but silence after hearing his first name. She wanted to speak, but Aerons lips parted again. "Greyjoy.''
Greyjoy.

The name was enough to shift the air between them. She still outranked him, but way less then before. He wasn't part of the small folk, but of a noble family. It changed a lot. When he took her hand in his and kissed it, she just blinked. ''A pleasure.'' Too stunned to speak, the Lannister stood there, wondering why the man had posed as a servant. Aeron cocked his head. "I must have the honor of speaking to a Lady Lannister, I presume?" Although it did not take a genius to figure that out, Celia liked the fact she didn't need to introduce herself. "Now, if my memory does not fail me, you must either be Lady Cerelle or Lady Celia, but I have heard the rumors of the beauty of the Lion's Pride, so you must be the lady Celia Lannister." A faint smile appeared on her face. Her nickname never failed to do that. The Lion's Pride. Even though Cerelle was gorgeous, Celia's beauty outshined it. At least, that was what their father always said. The beauty of her older sister belonged to influential Lords, but hers, hers belonged to Kings. That ambition and all the lessons it accompanied, had made sure Celia could hold her own. She therefore did not confirm the mans assumption. For all she knew, he was lying. On the other hand, he could be telling the truth, so caution was necessary.

"Aeron Greyjoy," she repeated. "A pleasure indeed. You must forgive me, as I am not as familiar with your name, as you are with mine. I do remember your brother, Goren was it?" She tried to coat her voice with salty sweetness. "Such a delight." The hideous boy had pushed her in the mud during a joust tournament, that was held at Casterly Rock when they were younger. Celia took Aeron in. She had never seen a handsome Ironborn. "You do not look like him. You are much more handsome." She used the same matter-of-factly tone, that he had used. This time she cocked her head. "Were you not in attending all those years ago, when my family hosted your family during the joust tournament?"

HEAR ME ROAR

love me until I love myself

10 nov 2024 - 11:25 Kiramman is offline

Kiramman 12021

kiren
wendwater
23 ✧ Dragonkeeper ✧ At the bathhouse with Doran Sand

''I'm sure this is all an honest misunderstanding if we talk this through.''
Kiren eyed the man suspiciously. She wasn't sure if he was a Lord, she hadn't seen him around. He had a very distant resemblance to the woman she'd seen earlier that week, bathing near her favorite little alcove in the sea. Same warm olive-toned skin, dark hair and dark eyes. Kiren hadn't met a lot of people from Dorne, but she had heard Thorns talking about them from time to time, so she could put two and two together.
She also knew that Dorne was the only region of Westeros still unconquered by King Aegon. Kiren felt little loyalty to the king. Yet the king's family had been the only family she'd had for years - excluding the few times a year she was allowed to visit her mother. So Ren took a step back. For safety reasons.
Yet she didn't turn on her heel and run. The man was handsome with sharp features and she could see dark lines creeping from beneath the towel he'd wrapped around himself. For some reason, she decided to stay.
''I apologize, my Lord,'' she repeated, even though she wasn't sure if he was a Lord at all. The tattoos seemed to suggest otherwise, as Ren didn't think high borns were allowed those at all. But he was bathing in the royal bathhouse, which was reserved only for the Targaryen family and it's guests, so he must be someone of importance. ''I thought the room was empty.'' Realizing she wasn't supposed to be there at all, she quickly glanced around to room to look for something that might aid her ruse. The room was very empty - it was decorated but not overly so. She saw his clothes, on a table to the side. Two daggers, right next to the bath tub. So he's a fighter, she thought. Perhaps a Commander of some sort. Kiren ignored the urge to dart forwards towards the daggers and pick them up to defend herself. If he was the sort of people to keep his daggers with him during a relaxing bath, she would be wise to not underestimate him. There was also a lute placed next to the bath. He had been the one playing, she thought. A fighter who played the lute... When she noticed some towels and robes in a pile in the corner of the room, she saw her exit strategy.
''Shall I remove the used washing for you, my Lord?'' She pointed towards the pile of laundry, but didn't wait for his answer. As he had already invited her inside, she took the risk of displeases him. Ren darted past him, quickly and swiftly into the room.

kindness is never a burden.

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