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Post by Lord Rykker on Mar 12, 2015 14:43:35 GMT -5
The one thousand gargoyles of Dragonstone stare down at the bleak seas surround Dragonmont. The fortress legends say that was forged from hellstones sits atop the bleak stones, seat of the Royal Baratheons.
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Post by Lord Rykker on Mar 12, 2015 14:46:24 GMT -5
3 ships of the Iron Titans sail into the small harbor. Uhtred sends a courtier to the castle, requesting a audience with the king, bringing news from Admiral Celtigar.
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Post by The Forgotten God on Mar 12, 2015 14:52:55 GMT -5
They are ushered in. Dragonstone has dozens of ships surrounding it, many of them clearly from the far east. King Derek is seated on his throne attended by his knights and courtiers when Uhtred enters. He raises a hand in welcome. "Admiral Uhtred, welcome back to our island. I hear you did your job well." He is a tall, handsome man in his middle twenties, with black hair and a scar over his nose.
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Post by Lord Rykker on Mar 12, 2015 14:59:10 GMT -5
Uhtred tips his head deeply to the king "Thank you your majesty." He'll do a brief report on what happened in the north to the kingslands fleet recently, which the King probably has not heard. He'll then go on to matters in the future. "Your Majesty, it has come to my attention that you have a problem in the Stepstones. As your admiral is distracted by that business in the north, I"m willing to offer the services of the Titans in dealing with it, as we bring a respectable number of ships and our own expertise in dealing with pirates such as these.
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Post by The Forgotten God on Mar 12, 2015 15:16:20 GMT -5
King Derek thinks a second. "What would you want for accomplishing this task? I assume you mean Lord Moray?" A woman walks in who must be his queen. She stares at the Braavosi a second with slight disdain but whispers something in her husband's ear. He thinks, nods agreement, then turns back to Uhtred as she strides out. "And how do you plan on killing him?"
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Post by Lord Rykker on Mar 12, 2015 15:37:29 GMT -5
Uhtred nods to the kings assumption "It has been said that Ferrous keep is a award for his capture or killing, and my fleet has needed a permanent harbor for a long time. That would be satisfactory for payment for our services."
He stops and shifts on his feet. This would be the important part
"Moving on to Moray, while I would need more accurate and up to date information from Saan, the first thing we need to do would be to bleed out his naval support, which my group is perfect for. To supply the amount of men he has he depends on naval replenishment, and more importantly on the plunder he gets from that to keep his mens loyalty. We would lure in his individual ships with my ships posing as traders to ambush them. After 4-6 ships lost, he would then by necessity be forced to pull back and consolidate his forces. He'll try to take us down fleet on fleet, but if we spread out it'll be like trying to hammer water. That's the advantage we have, he's set to a certain location and we're not. At that point he'll have two choices. Either he sends out larger convoys to raid and plunder to get his income, or he lets some of his men go. My entire fleet can handle the individual convoys, so either way he is weakened enough for a final strike by our combined forces, or blockade to stare him. If you would give your support to us, we can drive this man out and restore the Stepstones to your control."
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Post by The Forgotten God on Mar 12, 2015 15:42:17 GMT -5
Derek chuckles at the audacity. "Very well, I shall write to Lord Saan instructing him to assist you. You'll have the services of his forces for half a year."
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Post by Lord Rykker on Mar 12, 2015 15:46:10 GMT -5
Uhtred bows "Thank you your majesty. My fleet will sail on the morrow. By your leave I'll go and get them ready."
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Post by Leona Redwyne on Apr 27, 2015 17:01:42 GMT -5
Ragnar sauntered into the castle's great hall and called for ale. He barely looked around as he did so, simply assuming a servant would fetch him a drink.
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Post by The Forgotten God on Apr 27, 2015 17:23:37 GMT -5
Rgnar sees a near-clone of the Targaryen princess and a tall, slim, pretty black haired girl, sitting alone in a corner, looking at everyone with fear or hatred, depending on the moment. There's also dozens of others. A seven foot or more giant of a man clad head to tow in black armor can be seen, his sword taller than Ragnar.
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Kurts
Prince
Posts: 3,760
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Post by Kurts on Apr 27, 2015 17:30:35 GMT -5
"And do you have a strong will, my dear?" he asked, tone brimming with playful challenge, already knowing the answer. "You have heard correct and I assure you it is a trait he passed on to his progeny." "Short words and a long bedding make for a happy wedding." he quipped with a wink, thankful it would not be a ponderous affair.
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Post by Leona Redwyne on Apr 27, 2015 17:32:06 GMT -5
He gave the giant a wide birth. He glanced first at the presumed Targaryen and then headed for the black haired girl instead. "Greetings," he said quietly. "I haven't seen such an unhappy face since the sack of Tyrosh. May I ask your name?"
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Post by The Forgotten God on Apr 27, 2015 19:15:28 GMT -5
"Princess Naomi Baratheon," she says. "The emperor insists I include the title, dead as it may be, now."
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Post by The Forgotten God on Apr 27, 2015 19:16:08 GMT -5
Tristessa nods. "And a happy life. Oh, there's a strange giant in the castle. Steer clear of him, please. He is rather odd."
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Kurts
Prince
Posts: 3,760
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Post by Kurts on Apr 27, 2015 19:19:06 GMT -5
Killion noted those gathered I'm the hall, happy this would be a relatively small affair.
"I assume that is your sister?" he sidled up beside his bride to be and pointed out her near clone, before turning his attention to the giant. "What do you know of the brute?"
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