Horas
Westeros 
is Horas.
Posts: 1,146
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Post by Horas on Jan 29, 2014 21:52:59 GMT -5
Claw Isle is the seat of House Celtigar, an ancient and proud house with blood ties tracing back to Old Valyria.
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Horas
Westeros
is Horas.
Posts: 1,146
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Post by Horas on Jan 29, 2014 22:01:45 GMT -5
Aegon had made sure that the army and the city were both in capable hands before flying out. His reports were thorough, one copy delivered by raven and another in the hand of the returning army. But rather than make directly for King's Landing, Aegon took a swooping curve through the Kingswood and up Massey's Hook, past to Dragonstone and eventually to Claw Isle. He flew alone, his dragon's powerful wings making the journey a matter of days rather than weeks or months. The solitude was nice, for a change. Aegon could not remember the last time he had gone anywhere without accompanying troops, dragon riders, or attendants.
Aegon set down on Claw Isle, outside the keep itself, and dismounted his dragon.
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Post by Morys Martell on Jan 30, 2014 2:38:17 GMT -5
Even from where the prince hand landed, the old keep seemed to be abuzz with life as shouts could be heard coming from within it's walls, the stomping of many feet and occasional blowing of horns could be heard as the front gates open, and out rode a small band of horse mounted men, 7 in total with one extra horse in tow, those of the rear wearing chain mail armor with light plating in front, with red cloaks trailing behind them as they galloped forward, all except their leader. Their leader wore a dark brown leather tunic in color, with black sleeves and pants of simply cloth and matching leather gloves and boots. His dress was simple, light armoring but still passable for what one might consider casual clothing for one of high standing to wear. He wore no helmet, and his brown hair blew lightly in the wind as he brought the small company of men to a halt with a wave of his hand, his dark eye looking the prince over as he dismounted from his steed and adjusted his eye-patch quickly.
Tiberys Celtigar approached the prince before he took a knee, bowing before the prince as the other men did so as best they could while remaining mounted. "My liege. On behalf of my father, Kennos Celtigar, I bid you welcome to Claw Isle." He said in a plain and matter of fact tone as he kept his head bent down, eyes shifting slightly as he was unsure for a moment how long one was suppose to bow. Taking a risk, he slowly rose to his feet, his hands moving to his back as he spoke, "I am Tiberys Celtigar. It's an honor to meet you, my liege."
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Horas
Westeros
is Horas.
Posts: 1,146
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Post by Horas on Jan 30, 2014 3:00:17 GMT -5
Aegon still wears his armor, heavy black plate with the red dragon of House Targaryen embossed on the breastplate. "If only it was under better circumstances," Aegon replied grimly. Tiberys could see the Prince of Dragonstone had a long, flat package with him, draped in velvet. "I have news for your family, Ser Tiberys." Aegon would not draw out what he had come to do with pointless pleasantries. "I am sorry. Ser Alyn perished in battle, fighting bravely for the Crown."
Aegon unfolded the velvet around the package, revealing the ancestral axe of House Celtigar, deadly and beautiful in its wrought Valyrian steel.
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Claw Isle
Jan 30, 2014 20:29:49 GMT -5
via mobile
Post by Morys Martell on Jan 30, 2014 20:29:49 GMT -5
Tiberys's eye went wide as he looked at the axe, going suddenly pale as a look of fear crossed his eyes. His hands were shaking as he reached towards the axe, his fingers touching the steel as he recoiled, as if burned. He gasped, not having wanted it to be real as he reached back, grasping the axe firmly in his hands this time as he held it in both, gulping down as he took a few deep breathes, eyes downcast.
"Prince Aegon...It may not be my place...but I must know..." tiberys said as his grip tightened on the neck of the axe. He looked Aegon in the eyes, his own red and a little glossy, "How did my brother fall? Did the man who did this have justice brought upon them?"
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Horas
Westeros
is Horas.
Posts: 1,146
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Post by Horas on Jan 30, 2014 21:02:25 GMT -5
"He was slain by an arrow," The Prince told him, steady but solemn. "No doubt because his enemies knew they could not stand against him in combat. We cannot know the specific archer, but know that Faith Militant was utterly destroyed."
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Post by Morys Martell on Jan 31, 2014 19:51:50 GMT -5
Tiberys nodded as he closed his eye, calming his breath as he kept a firm hold of the axe. He opened them again, seeming to calm down as he nodded, "I think Alyn...he would be proud to know that..." He said as he bowed his head to the prince, "I thank you, my liege. Delivering this in person is an honor. We were sent to welcome and escort you to the keep. We were caught off guard by your arrival, preparations are still being made to accommodate you and your dragon." As he spoke, Tiberys's voice became more calmed and even, until it was back to normal completely, no hint of the emotion from before as he motioned for the other riders, they brought the extra horse, fully saddled with a fine leather and silver buckled saddle, along with Tiberys's own horse.
"My father has given you one of our finest horses for your personal use around the island. If that is something you'd want to use. I must ask to leave early, my liege. My father needs to know what's happened to his son." Tiberys said as he began to mount his steed, axe resting across his lap as he looked to aegon with a worried look, "I apologies for the curtness. But you may not want to come to the keep right away. My father may not be in the best state to great you properly."
With that, Tiberys rode back for the keep, the others awaiting their prince's command as tiberys crossed the gates and rode on into the keep, the bearer of ill news. All the while his face was cold as steel, hardened for the task ahead.
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Horas
Westeros
is Horas.
Posts: 1,146
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Post by Horas on Feb 1, 2014 1:46:41 GMT -5
"If your father prefers privacy, I will not linger," Aegon said. "Tell him... The sacrifice his son made was not in vain. I will not forget his bravery." Aegon remounted his dragon as Tiberys rode away.
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Post by Morys Martell on Feb 5, 2014 4:03:24 GMT -5
-some time later-
Tiberys was silent as he oversaw the preparations of the Red Grace's departure. It's small crew went about their business of tightening the ropes and securing any supplies they would need for the short sail back to king's landing. He had originally come back to this island because his brother had been called away, and it needed a celtigar to man her defenses should the faith militant attack.
Now the militant lay decimated at their last stronghold. The cost of battle great...very great, as he did know. A frown etched it's way onto his face as a headache came upon him, his hands white knuckling upon the rail as he remembered his fathers reaction to the news. Lord Celtigar had never been a very stable man, and news about his favored sons demise had not done well to settle the old mans troubled thoughts. He was glad the guards of the isle recognized tiberys for what he was, and recognized how hard his father had been in grief when he ordered him be arrested for murder in one breath and banished in the next before finally breaking down in open sobs as he clutched the axe firm in hand, in such a manner that Tiberys knew better then to approach.
It had been like this for some time. Tiberys was not a son that his father wanted, for whatever reason Tiberys did not know. His family had grieved, he had grieved, and there was no celebration or feast within the halls of the Hermit Fort, only a silence as family came to accept that Alyn, strongest and bravest, wisest and fairest, next in line for lordship and groomed to be since birth, was gone. Taken by an arrow from an archer that probably had no idea what he was aiming for when he struck his brother down, that much Tiberys was certain from his own experience training men for battle. The young princes visit and deliverance was something Tiberys would never have thought would ever happen, and his words of comfort, for how much truth they may have contained and how much embellishment to make the pain easier to bear, were well welcomed and appreciated here.
"Prince Aegon...you may make a wise king...maybe." He muttered as he stood up straight, seeing they were ready to set sail. "Hoist anchor and prepare to sail." he ordered as he walked up to the helm, seizing the wheel in both hands. There was one thing in the world that helped him take his mind off of troubling things, more then booze or woman.
They were untied from dock, and soon the wind caught sail as they slowly drifted out from the isle, the rocking of the ocean before helping to sweep him away to calmer thoughts.
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all alone and also really bored 
Hopefully going to kickstart the festival too
Jul 3, 2014 12:43:09 GMT -5
Hopefully going to kickstart the festival too
Jul 3, 2014 12:43:09 GMT -5