[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

3 dec 2024 - 18:09 Kiramman is offline

Kiramman 12064

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

Ren faltered in her movement when the man began to laugh. What was so funny? she wondered. Didn't the castle servants to the laundry? She raised an eyebrow at him, but continued collecting the washing, nearly toppling over by the size of the towels she was now holding.
When the man rushed to close the door behind them, a little panic began to rise in her chest. Her eyes shifted from him to the door, to the windows on her left, to the blades on the corner of the bathtub and she was already forming an escape plan in her head.
When he extended a hand, she unconsciously took a step back. ''You have to stop calling me 'Lord','' he said. ''Doran Sand. I am what you here would call a bastard. But the only thing I identify as is a lucky bastard... finding this empty room... and look at this!"
Everything was happening so quick. So the man wasn't a Lord but a Dornish bastard, who... snuck into the bath house? It dawned on her that she should call for guards and get him removed from the premises. He could be dangerous. Kiren knew little about the wars, but what she did know was that Princedom of Dorne remained the only independent region of Westeros. This man had more motives to assassinate the king than even Ren. She dropped the linnens she was holding and watched him dart across the room to a table with a bowl on it.
The hypocrisy of the situation was not lost on Ren. Two bastards in a place they shouldn't be. The man - Doran Sand - threw a ball from the bowl in the bath. ''Watch!'' he exclaimed, and both of them watched as the water turned a deep purple. Ren took another step back. Witchcraft, it must be. She didn't trust it, not without Lethia there. Who knew what those Dornish folks were up to - what Gods they worshipped. As he picked up his lute next, and played a merry tune, Ren almost laughed. The whole thing was ridiculous. She could already imagine her explaining it all to Lethia and a soft smile appeared on her lips.
"Want to throw one in too? I'll play a song to it, or you can if you want..." Doran Sand asked. And suddenly Ren envied him. This bastard, uncaring and unafraid, who entered the bath house not hidden within the shadows as Ren had, to catch a glimpse of the high class visitors - but simply to enjoy their entertainments like they were made for him. They were born the same - yet only one of them looked at the other with fear.
The sweet lavender smell coming from the bath, filled her nostrils. She found it a little too sweet to her liking, but also a happy change from the dank smells of the dragon's pit.
Warily, keeping her face and torso in the direction of the Doran Sand, Ren walked over to the bowl on the table and peered into it. Different colored balls and egg-like shapes filled it. They looked to be made from a sort of compressed sand or salt mixture. They didn't look like magic. They looked like something she could eat. Carefully she picked one up, smelling faintly of mints and herbs. She threw it into the bath and just like the previous one, it made a soft plomp noise and almost immediately began separating - leaving a trail of greens and blues in the water. The herbal scent grew thicker, mixed with the lavender, it almost made Ren nauseous.
''Kiren,'' she said, locking eyes with the man again. ''Kiren Wendwater. Bastard.''
And then she just stood there, awkwardly. She wanted to ask the man a million questions, but they all remained stuck somewhere in her throat. She didn't want to throw another ball in, for fear another smell to the mix would make her throw up, but strangely she also didn't want to leave.
So she just stood there.

kindness is never a burden.

6 dec 2024 - 14:07 ziggystardust is offline

ziggystardust 1056

DOMERIC
^{^{House Bolton}}

꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷

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

Lethia pulled him toward the stones. She told him that she had ended up with the Targaryens during the conquests. She had been hurt and brought to one of the Dragon Lords’ war camps. There, she played her music, and one of the queens must have been charmed by it, and of course, she was.
“I had only been here shortly when Baelish arrived and came to tell me that you - that you…” That cockroach of a Baelish lied more than he breathed. Luckily, both of them had stopped now. The only silver lining. To Domeric’s relief the Targaryens had been kind to Lethia, though the city was still overwhelming.
“It’s just… it’s very much not like the North.”
Domeric held her hands in his, stroking the back of her hand as she spoke. “No, it really isn’t,” he agreed, laughing.
“Princess Visenya offered me the chance to be one of her ladies-in-waiting. It feels ungrateful to say I don’t want it, but I can’t really say no to her…” She squeezed Domeric’s hand.
“Lady-in-waiting…” Domeric repeated. “That’s big...” It must be the dream of so many girls in Westeros: becoming a lady-in-waiting for the princess. But Domeric couldn’t imagine Lethia in that role. She needed freedom and creativity, not a strict schedule to follow with the rules of court applying to her day in and day out. She needed to be free.
“Bear is living his best life. There are plenty of rats and mice here for him to feast on.”
“The capital is surely full of rats,” Domeric grinned.

She caressed the bruises on Domeric’s face. He would forever be too stubborn to see the maesters after a fight.“How is the Dreadfort?” she asked. “I… I suppose you are here for a new,” she swallowed, “a new wife?”
Domeric nodded slowly. “Was,” he corrected her. “I was here for a new wife.” He pulled the numerous scrolls from his pocket and held them in his hands. “With Haelle dead and you gone… after a while, Father didn’t take no for an answer anymore. I ran out of excuses many moons ago, so when Visenya showed up on her dragon with the invitation for the Ball… It’s like you said, you can’t really say no to her.” Domeric laughed softly. “So I went and danced with that Dornish lady, she was friendly for a Southerner. I wanted to talk with that Lion’s girl, you know, the blonde one. But then there you were.” Domeric smiled. “Up on the podium, alive and well.” He stroked her cheek. “Just as magical as I remembered you.”
Seagulls flew overhead, the sea touched the shore, and the air smelled salty. “So I beat the Prince,” Domeric continued casually, clearing his throat. “And this morning the ravens came.”He ruffled the scrolls in his hands. “Apparently, Haelle is alive. She’s here in King’s Landing. And has been seen with a child.” He hadn’t discussed it with anyone yet. It was a relief to share this shock. “So, surprise… no need for a new wife!” He tried to joke, but his laughter faltered. “Why couldn’t she stay dead?” He shook his head. He wanted to tell her he had all the answers, that he knew what to do, but he didn’t.
“What did you tell the Princess?”

Our Blades Are Sharp

[ bericht aangepast op 6 dec 2024 - 14:10 ]

and the spiders from mars

6 dec 2024 - 15:48 ziggystardust is offline

ziggystardust 1056

Visenya
^{^{of the House Targaryen

✦ . 　⁺ Master of Laws ⁺ 　 . ✦}}

Post X • 22 y/o • Bathhouse • with Aelor

Visenya felt naked. Not because of the lack of clothing, but rather from voicing her fears aloud. What if what happened to Elaena could happen to her as well?
Aelor took hold of her hand and squeezed it firmly. It lightened the heaviness on her shoulders and made her heart jump. ''Nor will I. Vis, what happened to Elaena was her own fault. It won't happen to you, because you're not stupid like she was. You're smart. Careful. You know your place.''
You know your place. The words rang in Visenya’s ears. That was exactly the issue. Her place. What was her place? She knew what she envisioned. But what did her mother think? Her father? And what about Aelor and the other queen? That’s what Visenya was worried about. She thought it wiser to postpone that conversation to another moment. Instead, she turned on the tap, allowing the tub to overflow. Aelor raised a critical eyebrow.
''Would you like me to keep an eye on him?'' Aelor asked, referring to Visenya's acolyte.
Visenya looked up from the running water. “Oh, if you could, please!” she said, excited about the prospects of working with Aelor again. It had been some time since they’d shared a project, a secret. For the past few months, she had been working closely with Valerion, but he wasn’t Aelor. He wasn’t as passionate.

When Visenya asked about the deal their Father had with Lord Manderly, Aelor smirked. His eys lit up with amusement in a way that made Visenya hungry to pry more.
''I would, Vis, but I don't know what the deal entails. I just know Aegon wouldn't have send me personally for anything less than.'' Aelor said.
Visenya hummed as she sipped her cider, unsure if Aelor was telling the truth. “What did they do…” she wondered. “The city is full of strangers and secrets... I can’t stand it.” She played with the water at the rim of the tub, pushing it over the edge. There had been so many people at the Ball, and without a Master of Whisperers, Visenya didn’t know what everyone did that night or where they slept. She had eyes and ears everywhere in the castle, but she didn’t have the time in the day to analyze all these accounts. One week. She’d give herself one week to find a new Master of Whisperers. Before the next Dance, it should be settled.

Visenya pulled herself out of her thoughts and reached for the little bell that rested next to the tub. As soon as she rang it, her servants returned to the room.
“Princess…” She heard the hesitation in Myra’s voice. “What can we do for you?” The two younger girls instinctively tried to lift their robes from the water on the floor. Myra shot them a correcting look.
“Please hand me that purple vial from over there,” Visenya said, waving toward the table in the corner.
The youngest servant hurried through the room, her robes soaking on the ground, and quickly handed Visenya the vial while bowing.

“The acolyte was tasked with something else,” Visenya said, slowly opening the vial. “Myra, please close the doors.” She waited for the bath quarters to be closed off again. Now that the entire room was submerged by a few inches and steam hanging in the crisp summer air, she turned off the tap. “Let’s see if he succeeded…” she said, building the tension.
Slowly, she tipped the vial and let the contents slip out, dropping into the bathwater.
It took a few seconds, but then Visenya’s eyes lit up. Soon after the potion made contact with the water, the entire room was filled with heatless flames dancing above the surface of the bath and the floor. The younger servant shrieked, but Visenya had only eyes for Aelor. He looked even more beautiful among the flames. This is where he belonged. This was his place.
In the fire.
Next to her.
The flames would last a couple of minutes, Visenya had asked Pyotr to make sure of that. “I wanted to use it for Hatching’s Day. What do you think? My sweet little sisters would be ecstatic! Or should I save some for the next Dance? The fire brings out your grace like nothing else…” Visenya said, gazing up at Aelor and forgetting all about the others in the room.

A Targaryen alone in the world
is a terrible thing.

[ bericht aangepast op 6 dec 2024 - 15:48 ]

and the spiders from mars

9 dec 2024 - 20:13 Kiramman is offline

Kiramman 12064

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

Emrys fought the instinct to defend themselves against Nehemia's offense that he was betraying Haelle by telling her about it. They knew she didn't mean it, anyway. Emrys knew Nehemia well enough to realize it was a defensive statement, but that she would've done the same had Haelle been her friend. So they just nodded when she suggested Emrys talk to their friend. They were planning on doing that - Emrys had already begun writing a new letter to send to her by tonight, hoping it would reach her before the end of the week.

Emrys winced only slightly when Nehemia snapped at them. They had often fought at Sunspear - but Emrys didn't remember them ever raising their voices at each other. ''And at least have the decency to look at me when you are talking to me. You are the Lord Commander for Gods sakes, not some weak little whimp.'' She said it so calmly and softly, it somehow hurt more.
Emrys raised their eyes to look at Nehemia. They swallowed another comment; that being lord commander and a little wimp didn't cancel each other out. But it was true, Emrys often felt themselves to be fraud and sometimes the armor and the Commander pin felt more like a chain around their neck, than a symbol of honor and authority. When they felt that way, they could always count on princess Visenya and Lady Emylia for words of commendation.
''And stop with that self-pity. It does not suit you and nor does it look good on you.''
If only it were that easy. To relieve yourself of self-pity meant encouraging the idea that it somehow wasn't your fault - and Emrys wasn't ready for that story yet. They did not reply, but with a straight back kept ahold of Nehemia's gaze. Emrys was glad of her words, however painful they were. And grateful they'd gotten the opportunity to apologize and explain. And now that they had, so there was nothing more to be done.
The Lord Commander faltered slightly when the princess of Dorne took a step closer. Emrys hitched a breathe and unconsciously took a half step back.
''There is no failure in what happened on the boat,'' she said with the same calmness. Emrys wished for a hint of emotion in her voice; something, anything. They braced themselves for her words, readying themselves for what she was going to say. ''No one is a match for an angry storm in the middle of the sea. There is failure in not coming home afterwards and leaving everyone wondering what exactly happened. I needed you and you were just gone as if nothing ever happened.''
Emrys swallowed. Their hands were shaking and they tried to steady them by clasping them behind their back. ''You are right. Of course you are right.''
Their mind took them back to that night. The high waves and thunderous clouds. The shouting of the ships captain on deck to the sailors. Ryon and Marella Martell in their quarters, frantically trying to come up with a solution to survive. Emrys remembered praying to the Gods; any God willing to listen. And then the ship capsized and all Emrys could breathe was water. They could still feel the lightweight Dornish armor pulling them down below the waves. They remembered ripping it off and swimming up and seeing nothing. No ship. No prince or princess. A few pieces of wood. And their whole life on the bottom of the ocean floor.
''When I awoke on a shore, I didn't know where I was,'' Emrys explained. ''Other pieces of the shipwreck must've washed ashore too, because the people who found me knew what had happened. I was taken in by a few knights on patrol, but remained bedridden for days. A few weeks later I went back to the beach to look for the prince and princess, but there was nothing left of the shipwreck. Like it'd never happened.'' Emrys looked away now, not towards their feet, but just slightly over Nehemia's shoulder, out through the open window. They could feel a warm breeze coming in. For a second Emrys forgot the sweat dripping down their brow. ''I could've returned to Dorne,'' Emrys raid matter-of-factly, returning their gaze on Nehemia. ''I could've. But the fact that I failed at the one thing - the only thing I was tasked to do - the thing I took such pride and honor in doing...'' Their voice trailed off. ''It ate at me from the inside until all there was left was a coward.''
Emrys readied themselves for another self-pity comment. But Nehemia would never understand the self-hatred they had felt - and continued to feel. To have a two people dying on your guard was harrowing and heartbreaking - but to have the mother and father of your greatest love, and the prince and princess of the nation you called home, die when you did nothing to prevent it from happening... ''If I could swap places, believe me, princess, I would in a heartbeat.''

kindness is never a burden.

13 dec 2024 - 21:12 toothlesss is offline

toothlesss 936

ЯHΛΣGΛЯ
^{^{Waters

⚔︎ . 　* 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔭𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔠𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔩𝔡'𝔳𝔢 𝔟𝔢𝔢𝔫 * 　 . ⚔︎}}

sky above me,
sea below me,
fire with me

targaryen bastard • master of dragons • 24 • with pyotr • dragon's pit

“Not now, and not ever,” Pyotr replied. “When I took the oath to become a Maester, that future was ruled out for me. So, no tension either.”
“Oh, huh.” Maybe Rhaegar should tell Visenya that he’d take an oath as well, if she didn’t stop bothering him about his love life – or lack off. “And you… stick to that oath?” There were plenty of men who took celibacy oaths, but didn’t honour them for even a week. The only person he was sure who actually took it seriously, was Lord Commander Emrys.
By the Gods, how had he gotten himself into this situation that he was talking about women with a man he barely even knew. The Acolyte seemed to know Visenya well, though. Perhaps his sister had put the man up to this, for him missing the opening ball. He truly had some groveling to do. After his shift, he’d go and find her. Even if he’d rather just stay at the Dragonpit. He was wary of all the high nobles in the city. Dragons won the Targaryens the Conquest, and plenty of nobles desired a dragon all of their own. Needless to say he wasn’t pleased with Visenya’s plans for the Hatching Day. Rhaegar would need all of his dragonkeepers to keep an eye out. Ask Aegon for some additional guards. Or rather, ask Aelor if he could arrange it. He had more sway with his father than Rhaegar would ever have.

In normal caves and pits, temperatures drastically dropped when you entered them. In this one, they only rose. The beating of wings became louder, echoing against the walls. It was one of his favourite sounds in the world.
“How would you describe what happened to Princess Elaena? And to Calixte?”
Again with the questions. Elaeana and her death were a forbidden topic for the Targaryens. Not officially, but King Aegon and the Queens shut down every single conversation it. Rhaegar only talked about it with his siblings, in hushed voices. No one truly knew what about, apart from Aegon, Rhaenys en Visenya. And Rhaegar himself, but they did not know that - and hopefully would never found out that he did. He could only think of one person whose curiosity and missed longing could not appease her. For fucks sake, Visenya.
“You should tread carefully, Acolyte Pyotr. Questions about the Princess and Calixte are not a public matter.” He turned towards the other man. “Why are you asking?”

A familiar snarl sounded through the cave. Stormseeker came flying towards, her scales shimmering even in the darkness of the pit. She landed on a ridge near him and Pyotr, stones crumbling under her weight. A huff of hot air bellowed over them.
“Hello, lovely,” Rhaegar muttered affectionately.
Stormseeker leaned her head forward, bumping it against Rhaegar’s body before swirling on Pyotr.

MOST DAYS
I AM A MUSEUM
OF THINGS I WANT TO FORGET

sometimes, the scary thing turns out to be the most wonderful thing of all

13 dec 2024 - 22:45 ziggystardust is offline

ziggystardust 1056

Doran Sand
^{^{Personal Guard to the Princess of Dorne}}

✼　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　✼

Fire and Blood, but not ours.
Post IV • 26 y/o • Bath House • with Kiren

The stranger hesitated to match Doran’s enthusiasm, but the soft smile on her face gave him hope. Why pick up dirty laundry for some Lord or Lady when you could enjoy a beautiful summer’s day and get to know a stranger instead?
The sweet scent of lavender lingered in the air as the wary stranger walked over to Doran and joined his game. She took her time choosing a scented ball, picking one up with deliberate care. Tossing it into the tub, it landed with a soft plomp, releasing a fresh herbal fragrance that mingled with the lingering lavender. Doran made a face at the odd combination.
He played his harp, producing a nervous tune with all the wrong notes, a melody he thought suited to the unpleasant scent now hanging in the air.

“Kiren,” she said at last.
Doran stopped playing and looked up. Their eyes locked.
“Kiren Wendwater. Bastard.”
His eyes lit up as a wide smile spread across his face. “A bastard, you say?” he repeated playfully. With a dramatic gesture, he bowed low before Kiren and gently took her hand.
“It’s a pleasure that my path has crossed yours today, Kiren.” He kissed her hand the way highborn lords did with ladies.

Doran was about to propose drinking some of the plum wine he’d found in the room earlier, but soft murmuring in the hallway made him fall silent. He perched his ears. The voices were getting closer. Doran pressed a finger to his lips, gesturing for Kiren to stay quiet.
He took hold of her wrist, and with light-footed steps, first grabbed his clothes and daggers. Someone was trying the door.
“This shouldn’t be locked,” a voice said on the other side.
Doran looked at Kiren, silently he said “trust me” and nodded toward the adjacent room. Whoever they were, they seemed determined to get in. The rattling at the door turned into the sound of someone picking the lock.
“Who did this?”
“Maybe some of the newer guards. I’ve heard they hired someone from Flea Bottom. Bet it was their doing. Why would you ever hire such lowborn scum?” a second man said.

Doran slipped into the adjacent room through the sliding stone doors, gently pulling Kiren behind him. They were immediately met with a thick mist hanging in the air and an almost suffocating heat. Doran closed the door quietly behind them and let out a sigh.
This heat of the steaming chamber felt like home.
He pressed himself against the back wall, trying to listen to what was happening in the other room.
“Do you like the heat, Kiren?” he asked softly, a playful smile on his lips. For Doran, this was exactly what had been missing since their arrival in King’s Landing. A bit of excitement. A reason for his heart to race. And what was better than the thrill of nearly being caught?

The taste of vengeance is sweeter
than the taste of honey.

[ bericht aangepast op 13 dec 2024 - 22:47 ]

and the spiders from mars

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