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Fandom A Song Of Ice And Fire / Game Of Thrones RP [ Now Open! ]

Storm's End, The Stormlands...


Durran smiled. "Princess Rysenna. You honor us with your presence. We are sorry to welcome you with this awful weather." Durran said, bowing. "Yes, I believe it is in good spirits to make our way to the keep. We have only the finest food and drinks for your highness, along with warm clothes and rooms for your stay here." He then turned to look at the others, his trademark smile not disappearing from his face.


Durran took his place beside Rysenna, walking on foot. Verys, with his trademark helmet went near Sol, offering his hand. "Allow me to escort you to our keep, my fair lady." Verys said, his voice echoing through his helmet. Feran went to Meera, standing straight. "I will escort you back to the keep, my lady. Please, stand close." Feran said, after taking his place beside Meera.


The whole host started to move, their feet sounding off like a war march. So many people were never seen before in Storm's End, so the people started to gather around to look at everybody. The main focus were the people that were too odd to be Baratheons. The other was the Red Priest. After a while, Durran looked up at Rysenna. "We are sorry we could not stop the rain. We could've chosen any other day to invite you. But you must believe me your highness, a conflict is on the rise. And our people need eachother to get an advantage over the others." Durran said, clearing his throat. His white hair was getting wet, but not one fell on his face.
 
Storm's End | Stormlands


Midday | Tepid | Raining | To the Storm Keep


The Dornish Queen had seen the noble term coming. Princess. She was no queen amongst the Stormlanders. Still, an aching pulse began under her left eye with the notion her rank was not recognized. She let it slide for the time being, if not for any other reason than she was in enemy territory. The Baratheon head fell in beside her horse, easily keeping apace with the Hobby. Rysenna made a habit to keep looking down from time to time so as not to appear rude.



"The weather is actually quite welcoming, compared to the hot dry air of Sunspear," she commented in reply, not untruthfully. The rain was a precious thing in the south, where vast ridges of baked clay and rippling dunes were as far as the eye could see. Rysenna turned suddenly, looking back to ensure her daughter and handmaiden had not been consumed by the masses mounting around them. "Solana, come ride with me. A daughter's place is by her mother."


(
@WinterIsComing)


Whether it was the crisp, cold nature of the rain or something otherworldly, chills ran down Rysenna's spine as they ascended the steps to the keep. When they made it to the house stables, the Dornish enclave dismounted with their Queen, Myris Toland and Mahir Mahdi falling in line with Rysenna. When the mousy handmaiden went to lift her dress, Rysenna waved her away.
"I am capable myself, Myris. Have one of the stable boys tie the horse and see to it my room is ready."


The handmaiden nodded and curtsied before scurrying off to obey. Mahir fell in where the handmaiden had vacated and silently followed as Rysenna was led into the great hall. She held onto Durran's foreboding words, deeply interested in getting down to business straight away.
"When you're ready, Lord Baratheon, we will have some of your fine foods and discuss matters of the realms over wine."





(@AnnoDomini)
 
The Dreadfort


"Asten!" Kyllan screamed, looking behind him. "Get Larris, take him to the dungeons."


Asten Crook advanced towards the Bolton brother, but Larris sprinted down the hall, trying to reach his chamber, screaming for guards. Rapidly, Kyllan had taken up his dagger once more, and thrown it into the lower back of his sibling, prompting him to fall in pain, bashing the better part of his jaw upon the stairs. Lord Bolton ran to him, as Larris was attempting to rise once more from his injury. Asten and his men were just behind him, but Kyllan was successful in stopping Larris, with a gratifying crunch, Kyllan threw down his boot onto his leg, rendering him unable to go any further. His brother lay there, writhing, pleading for guards, but the words caught in his throat. This was something that Kyllan had wanted to do for a long time.


"Take my brother, put him by his legs upon the flaying cross. Tend to his wounds, and feed him honey and milk. Post him above the walls for all to see. To see what a false man, a false lord looks like. Let my presence be known, show those that I am not afraid to take what is mine, by anything that opposes me."


Asten hesitated a moment, but did as his lord bid before Kyllan had noticed his reluctance. It was right on time as well, as Kyllan peered behind him, to the remaining men that were not carrying away his squealing brother.


"And stuff his mouth." he added.


"The other lot of you, find his guard and kill them. Take what of their possessions you want. If there is any opposition from the locals, do not hesitate to them as well. The guard that wishes not to die by the blade, can come to the hall and swear their allegiance to me."


Three days later...





Larris of House Bolton was no more. The remainders of the House had come with the guard, and sworn themselves to Kyllan, with more fear than love. They were armed, with several other men that had come from the banners surrounding the North. Given that every last pike and leather breastplate was settled, they were all mounted outside the walls of the Dreadfort, and received the troops that were sent by both King Coranys and Moira Tyrell. In turn, Lorraine Tyrell was escorted by them. Kyllan kept her in the keep while he made quick use of the men that he had just been supplied with, and rode for Winterfell. He was clad in a pink and black coat, leather and interlocking chains beneath a tunic of heavy wool. His blade mounted to the side, sharpened and cleaned. Many men rode to their death this day, but the North needed to be taken before word of Larris was spread too far, and it would be taken advantage of as a weakness. The men rode with Kyllan and Asten at the lead. It took several days to reach, just past the Lonely Hills, The Weeping Water, White Knife, The King's Road... And finally to Castle Cerwyn. There, the remaining bannermen congregated, and the siege weapons were prepared. Within half a days march, Winterfell will be within Bolton ruling.


 
SUNSPEAR:





Ellarah and her cousin Nymerion had been summoned to Sunspear on the queens request. Eventhough they were family, She was their queen first.


Nymerion had come from Lys in the east, he had been traveling through some of the eastern cities and had arrived in Lys when the raven arrived requesting his presence in Sunspear. Knowing that he would not be called on a whim he had made plans to return to Sunspear as fast as was possible.



Ellarah had been closer than her cousin was, she had been in Lemonwood when the call had come. She rode hard for Sunspear and soon enough they both stood facing the throne at Sunspear, they did not know why they were summoned but as always they would do their Duty to their house.






STORMLANDS


@cremora (Sure, I will add onto the intro I had)


Of course by the time they had arrived to Sunspear they had been too late. Once they had received news from the Castellian about where Their cousin/sister had gone too, they got on their Dornish Horses and made for the Stormlands. After a week of riding they reached the Dornish camp where they would await the Queen.



 
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Storm's End, The Stormlands


Meera never even noticed when the red priest arrived, all focus pulled by the goings on down in the port as she watched closely, hands gripping the balcony edge tightly, knuckles slightly white, and her arms locked out solidly. With such a large party it was clearly the Martells which meant only one thing: they'd decided to at least consider her father's offer of an alliance. And that definitely meant only one thing for her... one thing she very much didn't like which was that her time of being able to do much of what she wanted and only answering to her brother and father may soon be over. Now, although she would never admit it or let it show, the thought of being married off scared her a little. It would be a whole new set of people to please and then she would also be even more of a possession than she was now, just some pawn in a larger game who had to suffer whatever consequences were deemed fit.


She was finally snapped out of her thoughts when her father appeared, confirming her suspicions. Well, here goes nothing then. Meera followed behind the others, almost reluctant to meet the noble party but knowing it was expected of her. The whole time they were down at the port she stayed silent until they began to head back and Ferran appeared by her side. "I can take care of myself Ferran so go and protect someone else" Meera snapped slightly, all of her anxiety almost bubbling over. Instead she sped up, handling the ride rather well considering she was riding side saddle, not her choice but the dress allowed for nothing else. By the time the dismounted and she headed inside after her father and the princess she looked like a true storm princess in her own right, soaked through but almost glowing with it, such was her love for the storms here. But all that she could think of was one thought running through her mind: Let the dance begin.
 

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