Hypnos
L'Empereur
OLD RP - The Westerlands
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WanderingJester
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Leon Lannister
Great Hall, Casterly Rock, The Westerlands.
Leon Lannister gave a sigh as he looked over to the crown of servants, advisers and knights awaiting his command, and for the first time truly appreciated the work his cousin put in on a daily basis.
While Leon was no spring cub, the relatively young lion had not the years of experience and training Tiber had in regards to running their ancestral seat, let alone the entire Westerlands. So it was a bit of an understatement when his cousin approached him with the very task of stewarding both while he and most of the heads of their House were away at the royal wedding. The lion looked from side to side from his seat next to the throne, his inexperience making him unsure of who to address first. He had refused to sit in Tiber's chair, rather bringing up another comfortable seat up next to the throne, which he sat at now. Just as Leon's pulse began to quicken, a calming voice from his side spoke up. "Easy Leon, just take them one at a time, like on the field. Why not start with the closest one?" The grateful man turned and gave a nod to his Uncle Lancel, who had been placed in charge of Lannisport while his brother, Uncle Edwyn. The Lord of Lannisport, like all the House Lords of House Lannister along with their heirs, had accompanied the procession to King's Landing. While Uncle Lancel had his own duties to, he had promised to stop by the Rock to help out the fresher steward with how to handle even the day to day of running a realm.
"Er. Yes! You there!" he pointed at the middle age servant directly in front of him, before waving the man forward. "What's the matter?"
The man gave a bow, before speaking up. "Steward, three ships from Braavos just arrived with goods, but we lack the immediate docking spaces available for their specific model of vessels in the Rock itself, what should we do?"
Leon gave a thought, before answering, "Lord Tiber have given specific instructions that the cavern ports in the Rock are for military use only. Are there no spaces left at Lannisport?" He looked over to Uncle Lancel, who regarded the situation with a thoughtful expression.
"There are docks a plenty at Lannisport. I daresay another three more vessels would not overburden our dock hands." Leon turned back to the middle age man.
"There you have it. Next?" The middle age man however, rubbed his hands nervously.
"Yes, well, these are representatives of the Sealord and those of the Iron Banks, and they've asked to dock as close to the castle as possible..."
Leon turned back to the man, with a scowl. "They'll dock in Lannisport, and if they're so averted to the trek up to the castle, I'll have them carried on litters if they want or have them meet me at Lannisport personally. However, they should know that the Lord of the Rock is not in at the moment, and I will not override his command without good reason, namely an emergency or an immediate threat to the Westerlands." The middle age man bowed, before stepping back. Leon allowed himself small smile, while his uncle regarded him in more favorable fashion. Mayhaps this one did have what it took to rule. Leon settled into his chair, before turning to the knight awaiting to petition something.
"You, ser. Speak."
The knight came up before saluting. "Steward, the wilds south of Sarsfield have become a nuisance as of late..."
WanderingJester
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Leon Lannister
A Garden, Casterly Rock, The Westerlands.
Ser Leon Lannister gave a sigh, satisfied that the day's work had been completed.
It had been one messenger after another, often many of them following up about the same thing. It was a wonder Tiber got anything done around here, what with people acting like they didn't know how to use the outhouse without Leon telling them which hole shite should come out of. The knight took a breather and strolled out to the gardens with his lionguards, who stood respectfully to the side. The garden, while not impressive with its botanical nature, it, along with its sister gardens, were well built. Given the amount of coin likely spent on it, this came as no surprise to Leon. Casterly Rock was fortunate to have Aunt Jeyne, then Celena and Leanne to give it more of a woman's touch, else Tiber would've likely turned it more into a military fortress and Martyn would've helped him. He thought about how Tiber passed over his father to giving him the position of steward, and how his father would be reacting at the moment. Still, the Lannister couldn't blame his cousin: his father have proven himself unsuited to look after the interest of the house time and time again, chasing after a forlorn image that House Lannister had long cast aside. Staring out to the Sunset Sea as the glowing orb began to descent over the horizon, Leon took the opportunity to relax when a messenger arrived.
The young man, barely more than a boy, walked up and bowed to Leon, before speaking up. "Steward, a message from Lord Tiber."
Leon raised his eyebrows. "Already? Man, Tiber must be worried. Very well, give it here." The messenger handed the letter over to Leon, who opened and ran his eyes over the content. He finished it and read it again, this time his eyebrows scrunched up. Leon put the letter down before giving another sigh. He was never good at this, at least nowhere near the level of Tiber. Still, an order's an order. Noticing that the messenger still stood there, the current steward of the Westerlands looked back at him. "You're dismissed. Thank you." The messenger bowed again before departing, and the steward looked to one of the lionguards. "Give the go ahead to Strider. Lord Tiber wishes to proceed with his duties and inspections as soon as he gets back." The lionguard nodded before turning on his heels and leaving. Leon gave another sigh before looking out to sea again.
Even one not so versed in politics like him could tell: A storm was coming.
A Garden, Casterly Rock, The Westerlands.
Ser Leon Lannister gave a sigh, satisfied that the day's work had been completed.
It had been one messenger after another, often many of them following up about the same thing. It was a wonder Tiber got anything done around here, what with people acting like they didn't know how to use the outhouse without Leon telling them which hole shite should come out of. The knight took a breather and strolled out to the gardens with his lionguards, who stood respectfully to the side. The garden, while not impressive with its botanical nature, it, along with its sister gardens, were well built. Given the amount of coin likely spent on it, this came as no surprise to Leon. Casterly Rock was fortunate to have Aunt Jeyne, then Celena and Leanne to give it more of a woman's touch, else Tiber would've likely turned it more into a military fortress and Martyn would've helped him. He thought about how Tiber passed over his father to giving him the position of steward, and how his father would be reacting at the moment. Still, the Lannister couldn't blame his cousin: his father have proven himself unsuited to look after the interest of the house time and time again, chasing after a forlorn image that House Lannister had long cast aside. Staring out to the Sunset Sea as the glowing orb began to descent over the horizon, Leon took the opportunity to relax when a messenger arrived.
The young man, barely more than a boy, walked up and bowed to Leon, before speaking up. "Steward, a message from Lord Tiber."
Leon raised his eyebrows. "Already? Man, Tiber must be worried. Very well, give it here." The messenger handed the letter over to Leon, who opened and ran his eyes over the content. He finished it and read it again, this time his eyebrows scrunched up. Leon put the letter down before giving another sigh. He was never good at this, at least nowhere near the level of Tiber. Still, an order's an order. Noticing that the messenger still stood there, the current steward of the Westerlands looked back at him. "You're dismissed. Thank you." The messenger bowed again before departing, and the steward looked to one of the lionguards. "Give the go ahead to Strider. Lord Tiber wishes to proceed with his duties and inspections as soon as he gets back." The lionguard nodded before turning on his heels and leaving. Leon gave another sigh before looking out to sea again.
Even one not so versed in politics like him could tell: A storm was coming.
WanderingJester
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Leon Lannister
The Ramparts, Casterly Rock, The Westerlands.
Ser Leon Lannister walked to the top of the ramparts of Casterly Rock and gazed over the banners of red and gold fluttering in the wind.
Upon Lord Tiber's instructions, the current Steward of the Rock had the Warden of the West's directions quietly communicated throughout the military powerhouses of the Westerlands. They would muster their forces, but only so much that they would be effective at defending the Fatherland from an imminent attack. While some seemed confused, all complied. It helped that most of those particular houses were directly connected to the lions through marriages or served together in training and battle exercises. Even now, Leon could see soldiers patrolling the roads between the Rock, Lannisport and beyond. At the docks, check ups and customs officers surrounded by Lannister troops inspected every ship as they dock, down to the last mouse that disembarks. Though he could not see it, the young lion knew that the same things were being set up at every major border crossings in the Westerlands, with military troops "deterring" those that would enter or leave the Westerlands on a regularity. Along the shores, builders along with their armed escorts combed every inch of land that a ship could disembark troops on, recording them on maps and planting sharpen stakes aimed at the ocean, starting with those closest to inhabited settlements. Off the coast, the Lannister navy patrolled for any sign of trouble, unwilling to play the helpless victims waiting for the arrival of the Redwyne or the Royal Fleet should an attack occur.
Also upon the Lord of Casterly Rock's instructions, no trade would be hindered beyond the increased inspections. The lifeblood of the Westerlands, contrary to popular beliefs, was not its horde of precious metals. All the gold in Casterly Rock would be useless if it could not be spent, or remade into other things to be used. With that, all trade, though slowed a bit in their docking processes, continued, even encouraged them to continue, especially those from Oldtown, Sunspear, Driftmark and those that came tot that location from Essos. Beyond that, a stream of metal workers had arrived in the kingdom, along with notable smiths of every genre. Construction of a new smithing district within Lannisport had gone underway, and from what reports had already arrived, the city wasn't the only one to expand their metal work industry. From Crakehall to Banefort and Deep Den to the East, metals of all kinds were being heated, pounded and reshaped, all in parts due to Lord Tiber's efforts since he ascended to his father's position. Not content with their wealth in exporting raw resources like gold and silver, the Warden of the West personally saw to meeting with many of the Lords overseeing significant mines to convince and help them with the fledging industries, as well as contacting notable and skilled craftsmen beyond the Westerland's borders. Between tax incentives, financial and negotiation assistance, one could already see the fruits of the Lion of Lannister's labors in the smoking columns and the clinking of forging red hot metals throughout the Westerlands.
Leon turned as a guards approached before saluting, and the knight nodded before the newcomer stepped to the side, and the hooded Strider approached. It always unnerved Leon how silent Strider moved, not just in his footsteps but every facet of himself. He could understand if the man simply wore and had nothing on him that would clink, but Leon sometimes wondered if he would hear a heartbeat should he hold his ear to the man's chest. Strider stood motionless before him, until the Steward finally spoke up. "Is it done?"
Strider inclined his head. "Lord Tiber's instructions have been executed." Leon nodded, releasing a breath he did not realize he had been holding.
"Good, all that's left to do now is to wait for our lord to return." A pause, as the Steward looked back over the ramparts, and Strider waited in silence. "Continue your reconnaissance of the land. Report anything suspicious to me and, if you can get the news to Lord Tiber in King's Landing in a secure fashion, do so. If not, we'll brief him when he returns."
"Understood." Leon turned back to the hooded man, only to see an empty space where he once occupied. Shaking his head, the Steward of Casterly Rock strolled down from where he stood on the walls, attending to the various tasks that required his attention at hand.
The Ramparts, Casterly Rock, The Westerlands.
Ser Leon Lannister walked to the top of the ramparts of Casterly Rock and gazed over the banners of red and gold fluttering in the wind.
Upon Lord Tiber's instructions, the current Steward of the Rock had the Warden of the West's directions quietly communicated throughout the military powerhouses of the Westerlands. They would muster their forces, but only so much that they would be effective at defending the Fatherland from an imminent attack. While some seemed confused, all complied. It helped that most of those particular houses were directly connected to the lions through marriages or served together in training and battle exercises. Even now, Leon could see soldiers patrolling the roads between the Rock, Lannisport and beyond. At the docks, check ups and customs officers surrounded by Lannister troops inspected every ship as they dock, down to the last mouse that disembarks. Though he could not see it, the young lion knew that the same things were being set up at every major border crossings in the Westerlands, with military troops "deterring" those that would enter or leave the Westerlands on a regularity. Along the shores, builders along with their armed escorts combed every inch of land that a ship could disembark troops on, recording them on maps and planting sharpen stakes aimed at the ocean, starting with those closest to inhabited settlements. Off the coast, the Lannister navy patrolled for any sign of trouble, unwilling to play the helpless victims waiting for the arrival of the Redwyne or the Royal Fleet should an attack occur.
Also upon the Lord of Casterly Rock's instructions, no trade would be hindered beyond the increased inspections. The lifeblood of the Westerlands, contrary to popular beliefs, was not its horde of precious metals. All the gold in Casterly Rock would be useless if it could not be spent, or remade into other things to be used. With that, all trade, though slowed a bit in their docking processes, continued, even encouraged them to continue, especially those from Oldtown, Sunspear, Driftmark and those that came tot that location from Essos. Beyond that, a stream of metal workers had arrived in the kingdom, along with notable smiths of every genre. Construction of a new smithing district within Lannisport had gone underway, and from what reports had already arrived, the city wasn't the only one to expand their metal work industry. From Crakehall to Banefort and Deep Den to the East, metals of all kinds were being heated, pounded and reshaped, all in parts due to Lord Tiber's efforts since he ascended to his father's position. Not content with their wealth in exporting raw resources like gold and silver, the Warden of the West personally saw to meeting with many of the Lords overseeing significant mines to convince and help them with the fledging industries, as well as contacting notable and skilled craftsmen beyond the Westerland's borders. Between tax incentives, financial and negotiation assistance, one could already see the fruits of the Lion of Lannister's labors in the smoking columns and the clinking of forging red hot metals throughout the Westerlands.
Leon turned as a guards approached before saluting, and the knight nodded before the newcomer stepped to the side, and the hooded Strider approached. It always unnerved Leon how silent Strider moved, not just in his footsteps but every facet of himself. He could understand if the man simply wore and had nothing on him that would clink, but Leon sometimes wondered if he would hear a heartbeat should he hold his ear to the man's chest. Strider stood motionless before him, until the Steward finally spoke up. "Is it done?"
Strider inclined his head. "Lord Tiber's instructions have been executed." Leon nodded, releasing a breath he did not realize he had been holding.
"Good, all that's left to do now is to wait for our lord to return." A pause, as the Steward looked back over the ramparts, and Strider waited in silence. "Continue your reconnaissance of the land. Report anything suspicious to me and, if you can get the news to Lord Tiber in King's Landing in a secure fashion, do so. If not, we'll brief him when he returns."
"Understood." Leon turned back to the hooded man, only to see an empty space where he once occupied. Shaking his head, the Steward of Casterly Rock strolled down from where he stood on the walls, attending to the various tasks that required his attention at hand.
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