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Post by The Forgotten God on Jan 31, 2016 7:11:32 GMT -5
Slang for the arsenal at Tyrosh, where much of the allied planning for the war is taking place. The Temple is an old Valyrian temple to a god long forgotten, now a strong fortress where generals and admirals plot and spies give reports.
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Post by Amelia Royce on Jan 31, 2016 14:47:58 GMT -5
After arriving at Tyrosh with a small and select group of lords and warriors, King Benjen Stark makes his way to the Temple of War. In his thirties now, the king sports a beard and has his hair trimmed somewhat shorter and less wild. His build is bigger and more muscular now as well and he looks generally much healthier and less pale than during the period of prolonged off-and-on warfare. He's dressed in unpretentious black clothes and has a simple bronze crown on his head.
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Kurts
Prince
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Post by Kurts on Jan 31, 2016 15:13:18 GMT -5
Killion was in the headquarters at the heart of the re-purposed temple, in his sandwyrm plate overlooking a massive map of Myr and the surrounding region, surrounded by various captains (Ironborn and mercenary) as well as advisers. He had not changed much over the last 4 years, other than the occasional silver hair along his sideburns, which were largely obscured by his driftwood crown, the Ironborn tendency towards hard living leaving a people largely resilient to the ravages of time. As always, he had a drink in hand, Tyroshi pear brandy on this occasion. A sword hung at each hip, one castle-forged steel, and the other the recovered Valyrian Steel blade Nightfall, the gold of its kraken crossguard ornamentation glinting in the torchlight and its moonstone pommel unmistakable. A miniature wyrven sat on his shoulder, steel grey with white lines down his spine, which the king occasionally fed bits of raw meat from a satchel on his belt.
"King Benjen!" he exclaimed as the northern delegation entered, Killion apparently in a fine mood. Then again, how could he not be? A war over half a decade old was hopefully about to come to an end. "How was your voyage?"
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Post by Amelia Royce on Jan 31, 2016 15:25:18 GMT -5
Amelia Royce stood just behind and to the side of Killion with what could only be described as a bitchy look on her face. Age had not diminished her shape and she was evidently keen to show it off, wearing a tremendously skimpy golden dress that showed leg and cleavage. She wore a lot of jewels and her hair was combed over one shoulder. Notable however was the extreme extent to which she had caked on her makeup. Thought still beautiful, without it she definitely looked five years older.
Benjen gave a small smiled and a nod to Killion, extending his hand to the man before looking briefly past him, a curious expression on his face. "Not bad. Only a mild storm rocked our ship around for a few days but otherwise it was blissfully peaceful. I trust you are well?"
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Kurts
Prince
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Post by Kurts on Jan 31, 2016 15:39:15 GMT -5
"Then even the Storm God cannot stand against you." he smirked, grasping his fellow king's hand. "Well enough now. Better when Myr is a smoking ruin and Dayne's head adorns my gate."
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Post by Amelia Royce on Jan 31, 2016 15:44:39 GMT -5
"Kal Stark might have something to say about that," Benjen said, not without humour. "I did tell him that if he wanted it he'd have to come himself but my cousin was not up for the journey." He took a cup of wine from a nearby servant and drank deeply from it. "It seems you found Amelia Royce, though I am curious as to what she is doing here." The latter was said not in any threatening way but with genuine curiosity.
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Post by The Forgotten God on Jan 31, 2016 15:46:39 GMT -5
A few other major lords arrive as the meetings go, Lady Nina Yronwood with the Dornish contingent, Lord Cedric Dayne of the Red Keep and a few thousand Kingslanders, and a quiet ambassador from the new regime in Braavos named Constance Espare. She naturally stays out of the tactical planning, but Braavos has been a reasonably enthusiastic funder of the weapons and supplies required to feed the vast hosts forming.
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Kurts
Prince
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Post by Kurts on Jan 31, 2016 15:55:28 GMT -5
"A pity, I would have liked to see him on the field." Killion replied, his tone leaving little doubt that there was no love lost between himself and the current Lord of Winterfell. He favored Amelia with a glance before returning his attention to Benjen. "Aye, 'found' is one word for it. It seems the life of a saltwife was preferable to her than being turned over to her former husband for the bounty. We must keep a few of our traditions sacred." He flashed his sharkish smile.
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Post by Amelia Royce on Jan 31, 2016 16:00:14 GMT -5
"A saltwife, hm?" Benjen said with raised eyebrow, not showing if he had any feelings about that. "No doubt Denys isn't too happy, though it's good to see that some thing at least haven't changed," He added with a slightly amused expression, indicating her scandalous outfit. "She giving you much trouble?" Benjen finished his wine and set the cup down.
Amelia meanwhile spotted the Braavosi ambassador and shot her a bitchy look.
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Post by The Forgotten God on Jan 31, 2016 16:02:38 GMT -5
Constance looks vaguely amused at the woman who fled the wealthiest man in the world to be a salt wife.
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Post by Leona Redwyne on Jan 31, 2016 16:06:20 GMT -5
Lord Drumm leaned against the wall, arms folded across his chest. Red Rain was sheathed at his hip, as ever. Time and trouble had put lines on his face and made his smiles less frequent.
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Kurts
Prince
Posts: 3,760
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Post by Kurts on Jan 31, 2016 16:09:03 GMT -5
"Seeing as Denys murdered my ally and kin by marriage, I would argue we are even. His continued monetary support seems to indicate he agrees." he tapped the wartable rhythmically as he spoke. "Nothing a few months in Krakenhal's dungeons did not fix. The old Archon left some fascinating devices down there."
"Now, I do not think you came all this way to despite the finer points of breaking in a saltwife, unless you wish to take up some foreign customs in your bachelor years."
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Post by Amelia Royce on Jan 31, 2016 16:17:01 GMT -5
Benjen gave a mildly disapproving look at that but said nothing. "Of course not." He turned to take his refilled cup of wine and spoke. "Let us hope that this will be the final encounter with Frances Dayne. No doubt everyone in the room here feels the same when I say that the man has lived entirely too long. Combined, we will have enough men and ships to take care of him."
Behind Killion, Ami pouted but she said nothing. It wasn't her place.
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Kurts
Prince
Posts: 3,760
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Post by Kurts on Jan 31, 2016 16:27:06 GMT -5
Killion motioned to the map and the figures upon it. Miniature ships marked the combined Lyseni and Ironborn fleets that blockaded the Sea of Myr. A flag was pinned at each front, one on the Myr/Pentos border where the Pentoshi government Killion had helped take power was amassing the main host, another to the south in the Disputed lands where General Karellian was amassing a smaller faster host from Lys to bleed Myr dry.
"How many Northmen can we expect?" the Ironborn king inquired.
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Post by Marlow on Jan 31, 2016 16:31:32 GMT -5
Harwyn Goodbrother made his entrance alone as the two royals spoke, moving to stand somewhere along Killion's left side. The meeting's important was mirrored in Harwyn's appearance; the tattered fur and chain of his armor had been replaced or repaired, and the honed edge of his axe glinted in the torchlight. Even the untamed mess of his hair and beard were slightly trimmed, although he had clearly stopped caring before significant progress was made.
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