A turn of events - GoT Nations IC

[BelGareth]

It had been a month since the Royal family had been engulfed in the greenish flames that ended all of their lives.

That month a lot had happened, houses usurped, power gained and lost, as well as lives.

But now, the Lords of the land save the north were coming into Baelors sept to show their faith and their respect towards the old Targaryan dynasty, the dynasty that held strong for hundreds of years.

Feel free to be here, or not, the invite to the funeral would have gone out to everyone, any noble worth their title would be here.

[Glarx]

Nadia stood in Dornish attire, her silks the color of mourning. The familiar scent of vanilla and rare fruits surrounded her, and she sat in the Sept with hands in her lap and legs crossed. Her heavy jewelry was silent as she sat still, and the sheath of her scimitar pressed against her back. Even Nadia's makeup took on a somber tone this day. She was mourning not only the loss of the noble house of Targaryen, but in some way, her own death.

She waited to see who else would appear today.

[drack]

Bella Ray emerges in a plain black robe, a simple golden star over the left breast, walking solemnly with candles in hand.

Taking the first candle she lights it and sets it beside the memorial.
"May the Mother help your soul rest in peace and go to the most blissful of heavens."
Taking forth another she lights it, intoning.
"May the Father bring justice to your unjust demise."
Lighting each candle in turn she intones prayers to the remaining five gods.
"May the Stranger have been kind when he took you."
"May the Maiden cleanse the pains of death and life from your soul."
"May the Crone give us the wisdom to see through the darkened ploy of your murderer."
"May the Smith help rebuild your realm to stand in your absence."
"May the Warrior protect your realm, that it's strife needn't trouble you in death."


I can't seem to remember Bella's color from when she met Nadia last... =\

[Deadline]

Following the Ray contingent into the sept, Lady Anarys Saltcliffe and her husband, Lord Dagon Saltcliffe lead their small contingent into the sept. Anarys' gown is elegant, without being garish or disrespectful. The silver and black of her house colors reflecting both the dour nature of the ironborn and the somber occasion. Her black hair is done up in her usual braids adorned with small silver chains. Dagon appears almost out of place. Towering over his wife, he wears very little house finery - a cape with his house crest upon it - instead opting for his usual attire, a finely crafted mail shirt over simple black clothing. His house rapier hangs from his belt in a state of readiness, and he wears several pieces of fine jewelry of varying styles, none of which are native to the Iron Islands. His long graying hair is pulled back from his face, making the ugly scar that mars the left side of his face clearly visible. Their house contingent fans out to stand at the back of the sept area in a respectful vigil as Anarys and Dagon make their way forward to quietly pay their respects.

Anarys' face is mournful, and stained by a few tears as she kneels and finishes her quiet prayer to the seven. In stark contrast, Dagon wears a scowl that appears to be a permanent fixture, and only takes the briefest moment to offer up a quiet prayer for the dead king.

"That which is dead may never die, but only rises again, harder and stronger."

When he is finished, he gives a stiff bow to the fallen monarch in a gesture that is both respectful and clearly unfamiliar to him at the same time. When both have finished their prayer, Anarys holds her hand up for Dagon to help her stand, and the two of them move to sit near Lady Nadia. Anarys gives Nadia a sad smile, before turning her deep blue eyes to take in the rest of the mourners.

Sorry my posting has fallen off. My wife has a new job, and we are still figuring out how to settle into the new schedule. Should pick up soon.

[drack]

Alyssa Ray strolls solemnly in after the ironborn, accompanied by a small thong of noblewomen, and garbed in a dress of the blackest silk she wears gleaming black rocks in place of the rainbow of gems she's often seen wearing, yet even without them her beauty is frightening to behold. Bowing to the fallen king she intones a prayer before taking a place in a middle row where the other ladies would not fear to intrude, yet close enough to the tomb to make it still a place of honor.

Meanwhile three bonfires illuminate the sky from the east, their smoke likely visable all the way from the iron islands to the frozen north and even the summer islands to the south as the Ray men, unable to attend due to matters of state, morn in their own way.

[Dunkoro]

Lady Ria has been standing in the back quietly so far.

I've never been any fond of such gatherings. Don't we have a new ruler already? What's the point in mourning the old one, if not for disrespect for the new one...
Oh well, let's see this through and then leave as soon as an opportunity shows itself...

She then quietly steps closer and bows deeply, before retreating once again.

[BelGareth]

The high Septon waits patiently for the nobilitas to process through and give their respects, in what ever form was necessary for an empty tomb, his dark old eyes never wavering, taking in all the forms of mourning, the good, the bad, and the blasphemous.

His eyes never twitched, and he showed no sign of judging or condemnation, no, that only happened behind the steel walls of his mind.

The high Septon was a statue, a veritable male caryatid, an avatar of discipline.

The gold cloaks could learn a thing or two...

The procession took roughly 4 turns of the sand clock, not long enough some would say, but many, especially those guarding the processions, guards, and bodyguards alike would think otherwise, but never spilling their internal thoughts as they have learned to do.

This was a process of two things, those who grieved for the King and his family, and those who were placing themselves for the inevitable game of thrones, the game that no one played, or partook of fancy, the game that you either won or died in.

The High Septon gestured to the septas lining the septs, who began to intone the Gentle mother, font of mercy hymn, wherein everyone joined in, a somber macabre hymn which carried all throughout the great city.

Gentle Mother, font of mercy,
Save our sons from war, we pray.
Stay the swords and stay the arrows,
Let them know a better day.

Gentle Mother, strength of women,
Help our daughters through this fray.
Soothe the wrath and tame the fury,
Teach us all a kinder way.

Gentle Mother, font of mercy,
Save our sons from war, we pray.
Stay the swords and stay the arrows,
Let them know a better day.

Once it finished, the High Septon spoke, "Let all who are present, bow and think upon the Seven, the Father, who represents divine justice, that he may judge the souls of our departed King and his family honorable as they were in life, that they may enjoy the afterlife, the Mother, who will bring mercy upon their souls, the Maiden who will keep their essence pure, the Crone, who will guide them with her lantern, the Warrior, who will be their strength so they may follow the lantern, the Smith, so the path they follow is pure and straight, and the Stranger who they may meet upon the belitten path."

He pauses, and stares out to the crowd, somber and dark, his eyes piercing the veils of any present, this man was the rock of the faith, and many could see why he was the High Septon.

It took only a few minutes to empty Baelors sept, and those nobles who were present to leave upon their chairs and steeds, surrounded by walls of flesh and steel, garbed in the wealth of the houses they protected. Only a few did not go home, those of the major houses, new and old, arrived at the Red Keep instead, an important meeting to take place, the recognition of a new sovereign and house claims to be confirmed.



Maester Brand is sitting at the small council table to the right of the Queens chair, and has several parchments. He coughs as you come in and speaks once everyone is present. "We have much to do my lords, we must confirm and acknowledge the claim of Lady Nadia of Dorne, we must confirm the titles and land holdings of Houses Saltcliffe and Malwood, and we must appoint a new Queensguard commander, Hand, and Master of Coin."

All houses should have a representative here

If you don't want to be here, thats fine, just means Glarx is going to do it all, and that would be anti-productive to this storyline :) but no skin of my back.

[Glarx]

Nadia looked around at the assembled lords, an eyebrow raised. "It seems like the first order of business is seeing whether or not anyone now opposed my ascension or not. Has a Targaryen been found in the intervening month? Did one of the royal family escape death?" It was an important first step, to see whether or not anyone intended to oppose her. If they did, they could settle it here -- waiting to bide that time for later would be catastrophic to the stability of the Seven Kingdoms. If they didn't oppose her, then she could begin to provide for that very same stability, and begin to seek justice for the deaths of the Targaryens.

[Dunkoro]

Lady Mia quietly looks around the room, as if to see if anyone would raise opposition. She didn't really expect anyone to, but she's been surprised before...

[drack]

Alyssa Ray, who upon this occasion was standing in for Ridkard Ray, remained silent, the picture of patience.

[Deadline]

Anarys sits comfortably at the table while Dagon scowls out a nearby window. After the Maester and Nadia finish speaking, Anarys speaks up, "I apologize for the lateness of our arrival, much has happened since our departure from the Iron Islands. The seven kingdoms stand at a precarious point, and need a ruler. But we should not rush into such a decision lightly. It would seem that no direct heir of the King's family has survived, but surely there must be a blood relation or two within the great houses?" She fixes her gaze on the Maester for a moment before adding, "I for one would like to hear more of this claim that the Lady Nadia has to the throne."

[Glarx]

Nadia nodded. It was an acceptable question, and quite reasonable, too. "A few days after the assassination of the King, while the forces of Houses Mountry, Ray, and Martell were keeping peace in King's Landing and searching for the assailants of the Royal Family, I met with the Maester Brand. He announced, without provocation from myself or the lords who were sitting with me at the time, that my claim was the highest. My family has married into the Targaryens for decades, if not centuries, and the blood of dragons has some purchase in my body. It is by that claim that I presume to ascend to the Throne. If there is a more legitimate claim, however, I would see them take the Crown in my stead. I have tried to find such an individual in the month since the King's death, but Westeros is vast and my attention is scattered. If I have missed someone, please let me know."

[Deadline]

At Nadia's mention of marrying into the Targaryen's, Dagon snorts derisively and mutters loud enough to be heard, "What great house hasn't bedded a Targaryen?"

Anarys takes a breath with a pained look before addressing Maester Brand, "Maester, would you mind clarifying for the rest of us how you determined that House Martell has the strongest tie to the Targaryen bloodline? My husband is quite correct, there are many Houses that could make a claim to the throne, determining which held the strongest claim would take quite some time."

[Glarx]

And how long did it take for the Targaryens to conquer your lands? Nadia thought, but she didn't say aloud. Looking to Maester Brand, she said under her breath, "You could always put my hand in a fire and see if I burn."

But she wanted to see if the wizened maester would speak on her behalf, or if he'd reveal some duplicity. Most likely at her expense. Joy of joys.

[Noedig]

"You will drive me to an early grave, boy. Get moving!"

Hugon Malwood, newly minted lord of the Vale, cuffed his son soundly in the back of the head, which nearly sent the very heavy, very delicately carved weirwood box in his son's hands crashing to the stone floor. Hugon gave a sharp, hissing intake of breath out of reflex. When he spoke again, his words were intense and quiet.

"Roric, if you drop that case I will turn your skull into a cup. Bad enough that you made me miss two funerals, one of them our kin no less, but now you make me late to the council of lords. Could your whoring not wait?!"

Roric, red faced, sweating and huffing from his exertions as they half ran, half walked through the palace of King's Landing, regarded his father with a frown.

"Why do you need me here in the first place? Uncle Bernard is not two steps behind us, four of his hand picked knights not to steps behind him. Plenty of a show of force for the lords and queen."

He ducked another blow.

"First, you're here because I wish it. Second, you're here because I wish it. Third,"
Hugon nearly tripped on his billowing dark green cloak. He tore it off, snapping the pin that held it to him and tossed it without a second glance behind him. Bernard caught it without missing a stride. Under his cloak, Hugon wore the colors of his house, green and black, in a expensive yet functional garb. Thorn and his dagger hung off his belt, clattering in their scabbards as they walked. "Third, and I've explained this twice already, you are here because I have to show that I trust the snakes of this city, the other lords and the new queen by bringing myself, my son and heir and my general into their jaws. 'Tread carefully,' indeed."

Hugon spit and Roric blinked. His father had been tense lately, and prone to anger, but this was the worst he'd ever seen him.

"Father, I-"

"Save your wagging tongue for a whore. Eyes forward, mouth shut. We're coming up on the door now."

Two Kingsguard moved to block the door, but Hugon did not stop. Their hands went to their swords, and then Hugon did pause. These were the greatest warriors in the Seven Kingdoms, after all. His anger made him want to pick a fight, very badly. His hand strayed ever so slightly to the pommel of Thorn. And then one the Kingsguard opened his mouth.

"Your weapons." He offered a hand. Hugon bit back a challenge and instead scowled. He pointed at Bernard without looking.

"I will give them to my man, who will wait here. Roric, you will do the same."

Hugon unbuckled his weapons and Bernard took them from an outstretched hand. Roric set the box gently down and did the same. When this was finished, Roric picked up the box and they advanced to the door. The Kingsguard did not move.

"What's in the box?" Hugon growled and a sneer played across his features as he opened his mouth. Roric beat him to it though.

"A gift for Nadia of Dorne, soon to be Queen of the Seven Kingdoms."

He opened the latch and revealed a weirwood longbow bow, unstrung and lying on black silk.\

The Kingsguard nodded. "The gift stays out here, with your man."

"Fine! Bernard, please relieve my son of the Queen's property. You are to kill any other man who lays hands on it until I return."

Bernard silently took the box, slightly ashamed of his Lord's ill temper.

"May we enter now?"

The Kingsguard nodded and moved back to their positions. One knocked on the door, which opened briefly. Whispered words were exchanged and the door shut again.


***********

A kingsguard addressed his queen. "My Queen, Lord Hugon Malwood has requested to join this meeting. He has brought his son. He is in a foul mood. Shall I send him away?"

[Glarx]

"I'm not queen yet," Nadia said with a little smile. "I won't object to hearing more voices, if no one is offended by such a notion?"

[Deadline]

Dagon Saltcliffe stirs from his position by the window and barks at the Kingsguard, "Like she said, she's not the queen of Westeros yet. And you are preventing a High Lord from attending a meeting of High Lords. If he's worth his salt, he should kill you for the insolence." His agitation is clear, and he takes a few steps towards the knight, his intentions appearing obvious.

Lady Anarys stands hurries to move between the Kingsguard and her husband, turning her back on the Kingsguard. "My Lord, please. This is unnecessary." She calls over her shoulder to the Kingsguard, "Good Ser, please show Lord Malwood and his entourage in." She puts a hand on Dagon's face and the two have a brief but heated, whispered conversation.

"My love, now is the time for diplomacy, not action. What purpose would killing a Kingsguard serve?" Anarys whispers.

Dagon snaps back, "The kingdoms lie open for the wolves of the north to tear them apart, and you think this isn't the time for action?" When he sees his wife's pleading look, he spits out, "Fine, play your games."

Dagon scowls at his wife for a moment before batting her hand away and walking back to the window. "Lord Malwood should hear what the Maester was about to say, it affects us all."

[Noedig]

The door to the chamber opens once again, wider this time, and the guards move to either side to let Hugon and his son through. Hugon had spent the previous few moments collecting himself, and forming the scowl on his face into a more neutral expression. As it was, he was still sporting a frown when he walked through the door. Roric had adopted an easy smile and Hugon had to resist the urge to give him a chastising blow.

Once inside and the door shut behind him, Hugon bowed to the assembled lords as an equal. Roric's was slightly deeper.

"My apologies, Lords and Ladies, for my tardiness. It is my son's first time in King's Landing, and your guards are...zealous in their pursuit of your security."

He noted that everyone else had been allowed to keep their weapons and his frown deepened. He felt naked and he longed to be back in the woods and mountains of home. He moved to take a seat at the table where he could see everyone, removing his gloves as he sat. Roric moved to stand behind him but was waved away to the refreshments. He returned with a goblet of wine and some bread and set it in front of his father.

"Perhaps too zealous. Then again, I've lost kin and king to treachery this last month. We should all tread carefully. What have I missed?"

[Deadline]

Lady Anarys smiles at Lord Malwood before she retakes her seat. "Luckily, you haven't missed anything my Lord. Maester Brand here was just about to explain to us why Lady Nadia's claim to the throne is stronger than any other House that has Targaryen blood."

[Noedig]

So it was not yet official. Perhaps he'd saved some face by not pressing to have the gift brought in. He silently blessed his wife again for her advice. He hadn't believed her when she said he would lose nothing but coin by having it made.

"I see. Bloodlines can be tricky; like a tangled mess of roots even. I do not envy those who have to keep track of them."

He tore a chunk of bread from the loaf and ate it. He'd missed breakfast today, and his stomach was threatening to growl.

"I am truly interested to hear what the Maester has to say, but if I may, I would like to share a bit of news. You may already be aware, but House Frey flies a new banner. I find that news, much like every other bit of new this last month, troubling."

[Glarx]

"It is House Frey's admission of the Stark battlehost across the Twins, and the change in their banner, which has spurred me to action. If Maester Brand had not informed me that I had the strongest claim, I would not be putting my name forward; however, I would still be seeking a king or a queen for the Iron Throne. We cannot afford delays. If the King's Assassin escaped to the North, we must rally our troops and prepare to visit Justice upon them. If the Assassin remains in King's Landing, we must discover them. The innocent tend not to run, in my experience, and Lord Stark's actions confound me." Nadia sighed and rubbed her eyes.

"But thank you for the confirmation of that information. It is as troubling as you suspect, my lord, and perhaps a step more troubling yet. If the Freys have been replaced entirely, not in banner but in matter, then the Starks' actions damn them. Even if the Starks did not commit regicide, they would have still performed a great crime. Something for a tribunal to decide, but it's certainly a terrifying proposition. And grounds enough for escalation in the tension of the Seven Kingdoms. Speaking with the Freys will be an important step -- I have sent them a raven, and hope to hear back from them some time soon. If not, we will have to investigate more aggressively."

[Noedig]

Hugon nodded sagely in agreement. What she had done was proper. But slow.

"Aggressive investigations. I agree, but that is a fair sight more diplomatic sounding than I would prefer. My kin lie in their graves, craving vengeance. I should like to give it to them before the Stark's new bannermen come knocking on the Eyrie door. My armies are ready and wait to carry out the will of this council, or the new monarch, whoever makes the decision first. I imagine we are all craving a little justice. If we have an opportunity to expedite the process, we should take it."

[Glarx]

Nadia frowned a small bit and nodded in agreement to Hugon's words. "I understand, Lord Malwood. I have directed a portion of my forces to march from Dorne to help secure the Twins. It will take time for my forces to get here, and pursuing more diplomatic solutions in the interim seems like an acceptable way to spend the time. If the Freys and the Starks have done no wrong, antagonizing them will provoke a war -- a war which I am quite happy to avoid if possible. Not doing House Frey the courtesy of a raven, and instead launching a full-scale military incursion of their lands without so much as the authority of the Iron Throne behind my actions, would not only be remarkably impolitic, but an act of warmongering.

"Opportunities to expedite the process may leave Justice behind and see us clamoring for Vengeance -- and our vengeance may be misaligned or misaimed. Neither you nor I nor the lords and ladies around this table will forget the death of the King, the grave injustice inflicted upon the Seven Kingdoms. We ought to aim our arrow instead of firing blindly, as to prevent further injustice from raining on the lands. It sounds callous, I know, and I mean no disrespect -- if there is some crime I have not been informed of, please do let me know. If the evidence of their damnation is available, I should be thankful to have it so that we might indeed raise our levies and march into battle. But if no such evidence exists, I beg you for your patience -- even if I am not Queen, and even if fate should have it that I will not be Queen, I still beg for your ire to be set aside for a moment, so that your righteous anger might be unleashed on those worthy of it."

[drack]

Alyssa Ray, who had remained quiet for the whole of this exchange took the opportunity to speak.

Coughing gently into a handkerchief she gathers their attention before speaking in a soft yet earnest voice.

"Excuse me, ladies, lords, don't you think it's worth our while to debate the validity of our Nadia's claim. I find it far more unsettling that there are those amongst us that would violate the sanctity of this chamber room with weapons which it is the duity of the kingsguard to strip of all before they enter this room least they be a reigning monarch." Calmly she allows her gaze to fall on Dagon, a gaze that seemed to scold him his impetuous, and one to Nadia which seemed to say in no uncertain terms that she was not yet monarch and was expected to follow all the same rules as everyone else. As she does so something in her gaze seems to inspires a great shame startling to behold, and something in the sternness of her soft voice seems to carry all the weight and power of a high lady repremanding or threatening retribution.
Both are shaken for one round as if by intimidate's demoralization bit.


"Now, if you'll dispose of your blades outside perhaps we'll return to the topic of succession. Have you anyone in mind lady Anarys? For succession of the throne that is. That is why you were making inquiries is it not?"

[Glarx]

Nadia looked at the Ray woman, an eyebrow raised. "I'd brought it to the funeral -- forgot I had it with me. If you'd please." She took the scimitar out from underneath her and handed it to one of the Kingsguard to put outside. I've got my eye on you. I know you for what you are.

She turned to Anarys, to see what the woman responded with. Most likely continuing to wait for Brand. Was he dead? Perhaps the Maester had suffered a stroke in the interim...

[Deadline]

Dagon glowers at the woman, his expression unreadable, but his sword hand betrays him as, for the first time today, it moves to linger near the pommel of his blade. Clearly, something about Alyssa Ray made him feel threatened. He is still for the space of a few breaths before growling, "The Kingsguard had a duty to protect the king, and they failed at that as well. I'll not let the fools disarm me and lead me to the slaughter. If you think your words, your lofty positions, and the failed Kingsguard render you immune to the cold kiss of steel, then you are mad. The assassination of the king has left a convenient hole that has been claimed by one based solely on the word of an aging Maester, and you bow your heads to her already while you ignore ..." He looks like he is about to say more, but he glances around the room and finally at Anarys, who has her back turned to him. He narrows his eyes and shuts his mouth before heading for the door to the chamber.

"I'll stand in the hall if it will silence your concerns and spurn you to action. At least that way I can still ensure the room is secure. If one of you tries to harm Anarys, or the ruler of the kingdoms, I'll feed you your own entrails." And with that, he opens the door to step out.

[BelGareth]

Maester Brand coughs to get everyone's attention.

Once he had everyone's attention, he would speak "It seems that there are...others." he says simply, almost cringing as he does "During the past month, leading up to the funeral, I have been studying several tomes and books that detail.." he looks up and realizes he's rambling "Well, yes, things, lots of things I have read, which bought me information."

He looks up again, hoping to see a glimmer of understanding, but having not seen any he sighs in resignation "I have found two other blood relatives. One is in Brynden Rivers, the infamous Bloodraven," he narrows his eyes and reads some more "Seems he is in the black cells." he says, raising his head with a raised eyebrow. "The other would be that Lady Anarys's Grandmother was a Targaryan whose name escapes me as of right now, but either way, Brynden is a direct descendant, a bastard true, but a legitimized one, and Anarys has direct blood."

[drack]

Alyssa smiles in quiet acceptance for a moment before listening to the measter.

"This changes things." She replies calmly, understating the whole of it.

[Glarx]

Nadia sighed, her whole body lifting and relaxing. Relief flooded through her body. "Then Lady Anarys is to be Queen. Thank the Seven!" She smiled over at the Saltcliffe woman. "For someone of pure blood, the confirmation process shouldn't be half as difficult. Your claim, I believe, is stronger than that of a bastard's. The black cells are reserved for the worst, after all -- we cannot have a criminal on the Throne."

[drack]

Alyssa shrugs seeing indifferent.

[BelGareth]

Maester Brand bobs his head and listens, his face grimaces at mention of Bloodraven being a criminal.

"Ah, actually my lady, Ser Rivers has been released from the Black cells, the late King only put him there as he...well...he did not like him...and well, there is no reason to keep him there..."

[Glarx]

Nadia waved her hand. "It isn't my choice. I'd consigned myself to death for the last month -- now I want to go to the nearest brothel and celebrate the fact that life gets to go on. The idea of a legitimized bastard on the Iron Throne is disconcerting, and if he was only in the cell because his father didn't care for him, it certainly seems like the 'legitimizing' was revoked. I suppose his claim is legally the stronger?"

[drack]

Turning to Anarys Alyssa polity inquires as to whether or not the previous arrangements to secure harrenhall, the twins, and riverrun, to which her brother had recently departed, was still to proceed, quickly summarizing the present plan.

[Noedig]

"Good enough for me. If your books are right, it looks like we have two possible ruler's. I'd personally favor the bastard though. 'Criminal' could be a hard word for him. How many times have kings or queens sought to dispose of inconvenient people without killing them? More than I can count. The Wall and the black cells are the two best places in Westeros to put people who threaten you by merely being alive. Perhaps that was the case with Ser Rivers? I've never met the man, so I cannot say. Also, and I mean no offense to Lady Anarys whatsoever, the bastard has no ties to a house other than Targaryen, and they put him in prison. He's independent. Both a good and a bad thing."

He felt Roric shift behind him and he glanced back to find a curious, vacant look on his son's face. Hugon smirked dropped his voice to a whisper.

"Not the time for day dreaming, lad. We're deciding the fate of a kingdom. You might learn something if you pay attention."

Roric blinked and returned to studying the conversations of the other High Lords.

Good, Hugon thought. One thing going right today.

He hoped against hope that the other lords and ladies would side with him. A Ironborn on the Iron Throne could only mean war and strife unending. Any people whose words included 'We do not Sow' among them were a people to be wary of.

[Dunkoro]

Well then that definitely changes things. I wonder though, why didn't you mention it earlier? I thought it should've been the most important point of today's meeting...

Regardless, I'm under the impression that the bastard is a much better choice for the throne as that would mean someone who has no ties with any of other families than Targeryen would sit the Iron Throne, and stability is what we would require most.

The problem is, he has no experience running a kingdom, he'd need strong and intelligent advisers.
I suggest every kingdom that's still loyal to Targeryens sends one of their own to sit on the Small Council... It would only make sense, so that no house could be accused of trying to virtually rule the kingdoms by manipulating the king, who will probably be prone to manipulation, at least at first.

I even suggest we propose the North to send one of theirs to the Small Council. It could prevent the war if we showed them that if they're willing to support a Targeryen ruler then they're welcome to help. We're still not sure that it was them that's responsible for the terrible tragedy that happened a month ago, right? We have only strong suspicions, but no proof.

We will have to keep North's representative under observation at all times, but that's a minor nuisance in my opinion.

[drack]

Alyssa replies, her voice kind. "Unless you have a grand master in your family to stand in for yours, there will be less then seven seats to fill."

[Dunkoro]

I've never understood the notion that the council should be composed of old, feeble men rather than people in the prime of their lives.

[drack]

Alyssa turns a disappointment look on the measter, before nodding acceptance of this.

[roll0] ... to hopefully stop the measter's heart? =p Alyssa shares the Ray's dislike of measters.

"The decision I fear would be up to our new king, and I would think it better to hear his own viewpoint on the matter."

[Dunkoro]

Where is he currently anyway? I say we should postpone this meeting until he can be present.

[Glarx]

"The thought that we should determine who is on the Small Council, and not the sovereign of the Seven Kingdoms, is repugnant. However, I'm done with this meeting for now. I agree with Lady Mountry -- let us bring the man here and see if he even wishes to rule, or if he's a gibbering wreck of a man." Nadia stood and smiled at everyone present.

"Until then!" And with that, she left the council chamber.

[Dunkoro]

Good day to all of you then.

And then she calmly walks out.

[drack]

Alyssa Ray stretches out before heading towards her quarters thinking of a fine dornish vintage.

[Noedig]

"Agreed. Find him. Bring him here. That is our next most important task to accomplish. We can put together an advisory council after that. Now, if we are finished, I must bid you Lords and Ladies good day. I have to make arrangements for the Graugeld's bones to be returned to the Eyrie."

Hugon stood, donning his gloves and gave a polite to the remaining nobles before leaving the room. He was more than a little pleased to see Dagon and Bernard hadn't killed each other, and that his gift and weapons had remained unmolested. He buckled Thorn and his dagger on and Bernard handed over the cloak. Hugon strode purposefully to his quarters, his son and entourage in tow.

"Oh, Roric, get the box. We might not be giving it away after all."

His son's audible sigh brought a smile to his face.

[Deadline]

Anarys listens to Lady Ray intently, and agrees that the current plans that are in motion stay that way. "I'll see to it that Saltcliffe repositions some fleet assets so that they can support your troops, should it come to that, Lady Ray."

She watches bemusedly as the rest of the lords and ladies fall all over themselves to practically throw the iron throne at the nearest person, as if it was somehow repugnant. She had to admit, it would be interesting to see what Ser Rivers had to say on the matter though.

As the other nobles bid their farewells once the meeting is postponed, Anarys lingers a moment to speak with Maester Brand.

"Maester, a moment of your time if I may. At your earliest convenience, I'd like all the information you can assemble on the events leading to the death of the King, as well as what you know about Ser Rivers, including his release date. If no one else will concern themselves with such matters, I will, at least, make an effort to ensure that we do not crown a kingslayer. I understand I have no authority to order this, but you will be well compensated for the information. Good day, Maester."

At that, she stands and leaves the room, only to be greeted by a scowl from her husband in the hallway. "Well?" He asks, "That was remarkably quick. Who is the new king? Who sits on the council? And when do we go to war with the north?"

His expression darkens to barely contained rage when he hears his wife's words, "Nothing was accomplished in that meeting, save to show me that no one wants the Iron Throne. My claim would be the strongest, if not for the bastard, Brynden Rivers. Apparently he's legitimized, and up until recently was held in the black cells. He needs to be found, and quickly. If he isn't responsible for the death of the king, then he may be the next target."

[drack]

Aloud in his room of stone and irons Marris Ray preyed to the stranger to take the measters from this world to the deepest of the hells.

[BelGareth]

It has only been a few days, but much has happened.

For one, the flag over the Red Keep has been returned to the Targaryen colors. But with a slight difference, a raven in the top corners.


https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-4a2nRpUledk/U4kI9o0CyMI/AAAAAAAAE8w/j2VpFUeAOSs/s533/Bryndens%2520Banner.jpg

Maester Brand has informed you all that Lord Brynden will be crowned in a fortnight, and it would seem he has spent little time waiting to plan things.

No small councils have been held, and to the point, none of you are actual members of the council. But it seems strange that none of you have been called on to give council, or discuss events.

The week goes by well, with no events larger than minor scandals of infidelity and rumor mongering between the ladies of the great houses.

One small change you have noticed is the gold cloaks no longer have gold cloaks, but black ones, they seem to be the same dour looking city guard, but they have became a little bit more sinister.



The Coronation is tomorrow, and small reception in Baelors sept has little extravagance to it, fresh rushes and clean water, new sconces and clean linen. It seems strange, but the fact that the soon to be King has no family is a macabre reminder as to why. The city is abuzz with rumors and a general lull of satisfaction that someone who is at least capable and as of yet not insane, is taking the throne has spread across the city.

For the moment things are calm.


Post whatever you want, actions for the 2 weeks that have passed and so forth, say whether or not you will be present and exactly which characters.

Sorry for my lack of activity.

[Noedig]

Lord Hugon looked to his guards as they helped him pack his belongings. His son and Bernard were two weeks gone, and if the gods were kind, back home in the Eyrie by now. For himself, the last two weeks had been busy. Letters, meetings, more letters, more meetings and a few chances to practice in the yard sprinkled among all the work. With luck, most had arrived by now.

His finest clothing was laid out for tomorrow's ceremony. He reminded himself to speak to the remaining Kingsguard about whether or not weapons would be allowed. Security would be tight, much tighter than normal and not being armed made him nervous. Since the announcement of the impending coronation, countless scenarios had been spinning around Hugon's mind; some good, most very bad. He opened the box with the weirwood longbow in it again and studied the curves for what must have been the thousandth time. It was a work of art as much as it was a weapon. He wondered if the future king would appreciate it. He'd have to find a use for it if not.

He sighed and stood from his chair, found his weapons and belted them on.

"Keep packing. I'm going to wander, clear my head."

[Dunkoro]

Lady Ria has spent the time doing nothing in particular; she's visited the Martell manor a few times, she's been seen walking through royal gardens, but she hasn't really been doing anything whatsoever related to politics. She's had enough lazy time though.

"I'd think he'd have sent for me had he plan to do so at all... That probably means he won't. I guess I'll try to get to him and to talk with him myself..."

She then left for the Red Keep in order to meet with the to be ruler.