|
|
Post by Lord Baelor Targaryen on Dec 28, 2013 17:27:50 GMT -5
The chambers of Ser Baelor Targaryen are lavish, obviously showing off the knight's vanity. A massive bed, able to fit four or five people in it, is decked with mahogany posts and purple velvet curtains. It overlooks the gardens, the scent of the flowers in bloom wafting up through a slightly open window to mingle with the scents of candles and books. Aside from the large wardrobe against the wall, there is also a full-length mirror and large, comfortable chairs for three, next to an end table with a crystal flask of firewater and crystal goblets for three. The room is designed to look nice, and serve as another reminder of Baelor's respect for appearances.
|
|
|
|
Post by Lord Baelor Targaryen on Jan 3, 2014 4:14:43 GMT -5
Baelor was wearing a pair of black trousers, the same pair he would be wearing later that day. His back rippled with the muscles built from years of archery, and they moved ever so slightly as he picked out his clothes for the feast later that evening. "Ye-e-e-e-e-e-es?" He called out, letting his voice slide through the air like a knife through warm butter.
|
|
|
|
Post by Lord Baelor Targaryen on Jan 3, 2014 4:18:11 GMT -5
"Enter if you wish," Baelor called. He didn't mind Aemy seeing him as he was. She knew he was formidable from their combat in Lannisport together as well as breaking the seige at Casterly Rock. "How may I help you today?"
|
|
|
|
Post by Lord Baelor Targaryen on Jan 3, 2014 4:25:03 GMT -5
Turning to face Aemy, Baelor asked, "So I'm assuming you're here on draconic business, hm?" He asks, holding up a pair of doublets, one a deep forest green, the other a darker violet. "Thoughts on the outfit?" Baelor had a tendency to dress up like he was going to a feast unless he was going out hunting that day. Vriskaranea loved going flying and hunting, though he had to take her a little further north in order to make sure she didn't burn down some small village or another.
|
|
|
|
Post by Lord Baelor Targaryen on Jan 3, 2014 4:31:29 GMT -5
"Which dragon is yours again?" Baelor asks, slipping on the green doublet Aemy had recommended. and wincing, "Damn. I've gained a bit of weight since this was last fitted. It seems I'll have to go with the violet tonight."
|
|
|
|
Post by Lord Baelor Targaryen on Jan 3, 2014 4:37:20 GMT -5
"A nip of firewater muddles the mind and makes my words flow more smoothly, if you understand my meaning. Speaking of which, would you care for some?" he gestures at the decanter full of the stuff on the table by the two chairs. "Help yourself, if you'd like..." He snapped his fingers in recognition, "Ah, yes! Skysong. Lovely scales indeed. I can see why you would want to keep those in pristine condition. Mind if I ask how your dragon responds to you? Outside of riding and combat?"
|
|
|
|
Post by Lord Baelor Targaryen on Jan 3, 2014 4:43:50 GMT -5
"That is a distinct possibility," Baelor responds simply, sitting near the decanter and pouring himself a short glass of the firewater. He gestured to the seat across from himself for Aemy to sit, "Now... how long have you been using the new potion?"
|
|
|
|
Post by Lord Baelor Targaryen on Jan 3, 2014 4:50:16 GMT -5
Baelor took a whiff of the potion as advised, wincing as he did so. "It's quite strong. And you said it was irritable to the skin?" He recorked the vial and passed it back to Aemy, taking a sip of the firewater on hand.
|
|
|
|
Post by Lord Baelor Targaryen on Jan 3, 2014 5:00:53 GMT -5
"It's more of a matter of the lemonseed," Baelor clarified, "I tried using lemonseed oil on Vriskaranea shortly after my twentieth Nameday, and she almost chewed her leg off as a result. Since then, I started using fish oil. you can get it from most of the fishmongers down in the city. It stinks to high heaven, but just take your dragon out for a flight and let them dive into the sea. It'll work wonders. For some reason, the salt water adds to the luster of their scales."
|
|
|
|
Post by Lord Baelor Targaryen on Jan 3, 2014 19:57:30 GMT -5
"That would be very wise, Aemy," Baelor says, taking another sip of the firewater at hand. "Because once it gets into the clothes, it's near impossible to get out. And make sure that the first time you take them flying after applying the oil, you wear clothes you don't mind getting wet."
|
|
Horas
Westeros 
is Horas.
Posts: 1,146
|
Post by Horas on Jan 5, 2014 16:07:04 GMT -5
//////////////////
Prince Aegon Targaryen arrives at Lord Baelor's chambers. He has the servants announce him, then waits to be admitted.
|
|
|
|
Post by Lord Baelor Targaryen on Jan 7, 2014 2:13:58 GMT -5
Baelor rises and turns to face Aegon, a crystal glass of firewater in hand, "Nephew. Might I ask what brings you to my chambers? Might I interest you in a drink?"
|
|
Horas
Westeros
is Horas.
Posts: 1,146
|
Post by Horas on Jan 7, 2014 2:34:18 GMT -5
"You might do both," Aegon said, entering his uncle's quarters. "Last time I went to war, you were at my side. Or rather, far above my head," Aegon said with a wry smile. "The king has given me the command to take Oldtown. I would have you with me again when we put an end to this war, uncle."
|
|
|
|
Post by Lord Baelor Targaryen on Jan 7, 2014 2:36:05 GMT -5
Baelor poured Aegon a healthy bit of the brown liquid from the crystal flask, handing the glass to him. "I appreciate your trust in me, Nephew. And I gladly accept. Truthfully, I've been wanting to be at the battle of Oldtown if only to be the first to access the newly freed Citadel."
|
|
Horas
Westeros
is Horas.
Posts: 1,146
|
Post by Horas on Jan 7, 2014 2:42:34 GMT -5
"That's a promise I'll gladly make," Aegon said, accepting the drink. It had more bite than Aegon expected, but it felt pleasingly warm in his belly. "Though of course the battle must be won first. No sense in counting your books before they are read."
|
|
|
|
Post by Lord Baelor Targaryen on Jan 7, 2014 2:43:59 GMT -5
"That was a clever turn of phrase, Aegon," Baelor responds, ever one for wit, "Though I do not doubt that with a bit of planning, we should have no problem taking the Citadel."
|
|
Horas
Westeros
is Horas.
Posts: 1,146
|
Post by Horas on Jan 7, 2014 2:49:54 GMT -5
"I appreciate the confidence, uncle. But we must always bear in mind what happened at Oldtown four years ago, lest we repeat that failure." Aegon scratches at a bit of stubble he had missed while shaving. "And who knows how well the city has been fortified since that time. The maesters are clever men, after all. I would be more surprised if they did not have some trick in store for us."
|
|
|
|
Post by Lord Baelor Targaryen on Jan 7, 2014 2:51:28 GMT -5
"That goes beyond a doubt. And I have a good feeling that it wasn't long before the faith tortured them into helping them," Baelor said, stroking his chin and finishing off his drink. "So two questions: Where shall we meet and what kind of plan do you have in mind?"
|
|
Horas
Westeros
is Horas.
Posts: 1,146
|
Post by Horas on Jan 7, 2014 2:58:05 GMT -5
"We are assembling on the field outside King's Landing at first light tomorrow. From there we make to Bitterbridge to join with Maekar's host. My sister Rhaena is bringing another two thousand men down from the West, and we will all unite at Highgarden for the push to Oldtown," Aegon summarized. "I won't be able to make a proper plan until we know exactly what we're up against."
|
|
|
|
Post by Lord Baelor Targaryen on Jan 7, 2014 2:59:01 GMT -5
"As you wish. I shall see you in the morning, then," Baelor said, bowing to the crown prince. "Until tomorrow."
|
|
Horas
Westeros
is Horas.
Posts: 1,146
|
Post by Horas on Jan 7, 2014 3:00:24 GMT -5
Aegon sets down his glass. "Thanks for the drink. Until tomorrow." He heads off, satisfied to have another dragonrider in his growing force.
|
|
Pyke
Westeros
Clown Prince
Posts: 238
|
Post by Pyke on Feb 4, 2014 23:40:53 GMT -5
//////////////
Aerion held the embroidered green tunic up into the light. Its craftsmanship was impressive, even he had to admit, but he tossed it aside regardless. With his brother Baelor's death, his possessions has passed to Aerion, though he found most of it useless. His brother had been tall and fashionable, who was seen wearing tight-fitting clothes and little else. Instead, Aerion was huge and the clothes came nowhere near large enough for him wear. Similarly although Baelor's bow was exquisitely built, it meant little to Aerion, who had always preferred the weight of a real weapon in hand. He closed the chest of fabrics and moved on to the numerous book and tomes his brother kept close by.
An History of Aegon's Conquest of Westeros detailed how just three dragons had made all of Westeros bend the knee. Aerion mused how they'd lost near twice that in a single battle. He shook his head. History of the Ironborn detailed the odd culture and customs of the Ironborn people. He found the idea of a Kingsmoot particularly interesting and set the book aside for further reading. He was surprised to find his brother kept a copy of the Seven-Pointed Star, the holy text of the Faith beside his bed. His brother had never been a holy man, and Aerion supposed this was one of his 'getting to know his enemy' activities. He regarded the book coolly before tossing it into the fire. The Faith was beaten, their holy texts no longer had a place within these walls. He sat for a time and watched the flames slowly bite away at the heretical text, enjoying the warmth and scent of roses drifting up from the palace gardens.
|
|
all alone and also really bored 
Hopefully going to kickstart the festival too