Game of Trolls/Game of Thrones RP

He chuckled with genuine amusement at her catching him, "Apologies, force of habit. The houses of the North have no skill at intrigue. I expect more from you."

"Well then, let us begin." He said, leaning back and thinking, the words formulating in his head long before he said them, "Your plan to assault King's Landing is the epitome of high risk, high reward. In this instance, I believe it is unnecessary. The lord of the single most well defended land in the world holds your banner in his hearth. A direct assault would consume the forces you have with you - sieges are always bloody, a siege of this magnitude will shake the heavens and hells. Even should you take Kings Landing, would the King's supporters simply lay down arms and follow you? No. At the very least, the North would come crashing down with a fury, bleed you unnecessarily. Further, look at the army you're taking across the sea - eighty thousand raiders. No sane lord would trust them to be proper, disciplined soldiers. They will kill, rape, and loot any hamlet they come across and frankly I don't know how to prevent that." He sighed, taking a moment to organize his thoughts again, "What I would suggest is to land your forces in the Vale, and take your sweet time in rallying the forces there to rush down in a single, massive push. That will add further diversity to your forces, as currently it is overwhelming shock cavalry. I still would prefer trying to make the King see reason, he isn't as stupid as he seems. If he is made properly...aware of the devastation his war will cause, there is perhaps chance you could find some middle ground? Something to think about, if the war drags on." He thought further, he doubted such a thing could be reached without any bloodshed. After perhaps a sweep of hard fighting they could end it that way. "War is hell, my Queen. The people will appreciate a brief hell." He paused, waiting for any comments. "These are simply my first thoughts, of course."

Vrelun nodding. "I was thinking of sailing to The Vale first. Personally, I do just want this war over and done with, but I know that isn't how war works. You are indeed right, and we will most likely set course for The Vale. Also, was is raping, looting, and killing. You cannot prevent it, and neither can I. We do what we must, ad bad as it sounds." Exhaling quietly.

Meanwhile, in King's Landing..

An escort of 300 men were outside the gates, banners of a white clawbeast on a golden field fluttering gracefully as they entered. Whoever laid eyes on them knew exactly who had stopped in to visit Ozeath. As they entered, a giant of a real clawbeast rode into the dueling grounds followed by about 5 knights on horseback. They flicked off their hood, a giant mane of black hair falling out. The Mistress of Law, Laadzi Lanlas. Only she would make such a grand appearance to impress Ozeath. Or, attempt to, anyways. She stared the other knights down a moment, hand rested on the hilt of her greatsword, before turning her attention to Ozeath. .. And dumb and dumber. His hand and his new hand. How pleasant.

Laadzi bowed her head to him, her other knights doing the same. "Your Grace. I've gotten word of the Travia girl." Lifting her head, and hopping off her horse with the thump of her boots hitting the ground, walking towards them. Time to show these two scrawny ladies how it was done.

Ozeath's head turned immediately, a grin growing wider and wider on his face as he saw the banners fly in the wind. It was the Clawbeast of the West herself..."LAADZI FUCKING LANIAS! COME HERE!" He roared, running up to her and embracing her in a massive bearhug. It was about time one of his best friends showed up! Now usually he counted anyone who joined his Ousting as a good friend, but Laadzi was a whole different matter with how she overthrew her own loyalist oppressors and then led a united Westerlands to his side, "It's damn good to see you here, my dear! We've got work to do, and I need another strong sword arm at my side!" He laughed again, though it was hard to determine where exactly he stopped to begin with. Letting her down, he motioned at his two Hands, "I'm having these two deal with the mustering and preparing supply routes while I prepare the coastal castles for assault." He said, going into detail about specific castles that seemed like good places to stage a landing, "We should also call an emergency meeting of the small council - we'll get this all ironed out before my trip, it'll be fantastic!" He said, gripped with his famous good cheer. "Oh yes, you know what we need? A feast! The people will be delighted!" Unlike other Kings, Ozeath didn't invest heavily in opulent shows of power for their own sake. The Red Keep was practically bare of finery outside of specific guest rooms, much preferring to focus his wealth on improving King's Landing itself and ensuring a good standard of living is enjoyed by all. His idea of a feast included free food for all of King's Landing.

More expensive, far less frequent, but much more beloved by the people. He patted his friend on the back, "Now we just need the rest of the group to show up and we'll get this ball rolling!"


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

For some reason, Harton flinched as if he had heard something yell very loudly. Bah, ridiculous.

He tsked his Queen, shaking his head," No no, my lady. You agreed with me far too quickly. When you reign, you will have many advisers, whom unlike me, will quite possibly try to use you for their own ends. You must scrutinize any advice that seems lacking and simply nod when it is good. Dance around them with conversation and always be the one leading discussion with your underlings. Otherwise, they assume undue power." He explained, " It is partly my fault, as despite noticing you do this countless times in the past, I had not deigned to correct it. Now...I believe you wanted to know of my work?" He asked, a glint of...something in those eyes of his. "It has to do with bringing back the recently dead - I can not recall currently if we've discussed the topic before in any meaningful way."

"The Storm's glare", Iron Isles Flag ship, and Kalsar ancestral home.

The Iron queen, the Mother of storms, and the eternal eye. These were what she was known as to many outside the isles, but to her own people, she was simply High captain. Bevlea had spent decades forging her territory, reinforcing their power, and carving out the place they held now. They were the westerosian fleet, in all but name. Their ships numbered in the thousands, her sailors possessing skill and numbers that dwarfed the tiny fleets of the various other coastal holds. Her fleet could fill the horizon if gathered to full strength, and could fell any enemy that dwelled in the sea.

All this was controlled by the Kalsars, an old family that were descended from those brave trolls that conquered the sea when many thought they didn't belong. Her house, every single member, sailed the seas as often as they could, and her ship served as the meeting point of all of her family. No storm could best them, not army could fight them, and no city could withstand them as long as they were by the sea.

So, it was easy to predict, even if she didn't have her powers of precognition, for Bevlea to receive a message from the mother of dragons. The little girl, arrogant over her victory over some foolish slave city, thought she could pay off the Isles with trivial things. Money, gold, land, even whores. It was if the girl was blatantly stating she couldn't win without the isles not becoming involved, it was actually quite flattering.

"Heheheheh...My oh my.....oh what should I do? The 'mother of dragons' calls upon the isles. She promises so much, and is oooooh so generous." Bevlea said as she sat in her comfortable main hall that was built into her ship. A couple of advisors sat around the table, all of them having pausing their eating to listen and to hold back the snickers. "But wait, she wants to pay us, but with what? Land she does not have? Gold she does not possess? And whores that are probably as ugly as her stretched out nook?" She said, tossing the message to the table with disgust, her advisors laughing as their Lady spoke.

"She thinks my price can be paid with dirt, I say I have the sea and spit on her dirt. She thinks my price can be paid for by gold, I fire it back into her face with my ballista. She thinks my price can be paid with flesh, I run it through and feed it to my pigs." She said, sounding angry as she stood up to stare at the message.

"My price can only be paid for with Iron, and I shall pour it down her fucking little throat to teach her this little fact." She said with a chuckle, her advisors banging the table and shouting out their agreement. She sat back down and slammed her fist on the metal table, sending thunderous bangs out throughout the hall to silence everyone. "Set a course for King's Landing. Looks like the King forgot to let me know we'll be having some guests that need a little Iron Isles welcome. Send a raven to him and tell him to prepare the brothels and break out the good drink."

The advisors shouted out their agreement, all standing quickly and getting to work. Bevlea stopped one of them, who turned and pressed her fist to her chest over his heart, a salute of the isles. She waved her hand "Go check on Oro, I need my little niece looking pretty for kingslanding. Can't have the Frozen King going flaccid seeing some soaked rat offered to him now can we?" She said with a hearty laugh, which was received with a nod and a smile by her advisor before he ran off to perform his mission.

Anvind was a few miles away from King's landing and he could already hear the kings loud yelling possibly it was out of rage. No it was out of rage. He would frown at it but he can never change his facial expression from this mysterious smile. He is accompanied by his three most trusted knights, all of whom he knew like the back of his hand. After all it was his job to know things.

After an hour of riding he arrived at the king's gates bearing a flag with a Green moon cut in half on a white field. And the gates open for him allowing him to pass through. " My King, I have arrived. Hello, fellow helpers of the king, I will enjoy speaking to all of you in what i presume will be frequent small council meetings." He keeps smiling at all of them and then bows to his king. " now which other members are we awaiting? " He tilts his head unsure if there was someone missing or not. After all he had to know things, many things, but some days he can't recall it all. He is only a troll after all.

Laadzi flinched when he hugged her, sparing a glance back to the Hands. Ozeath should've picked someone who could actually whip Dorne back into shape instead of these two idiots. "I imagined you'd call one, that's why I came early. It's a pleasure to see you, too. Grinning and adjusting the pelt. She hadn't had a feast since she took the West. Oh well, no better place to get drunk than with Ozeath. Hey, maybe she'd even get lucky, but she doubted that. "I made sure to bring a few crates of my best wine for when I arrived. I know we're both pretty heavy drinkers." Laadzi chuckled, her face starting to warm for once in her lifetime. Not even her long deceased matesprit could do that. She reached up and messed up his hair like she usually did. "When do you think the last time the Small Council was all here was? I can hardly even remember, myself. I'm glad we're together like this again, you know." But she really wasn't. The gold blood absolutely hated the rest of the Small Council, and that was a fact. She was honestly just jealous, but constantly denied it when asked why. Laadzi wanted more than just The Westerlands.

Let's call it The Crownlands.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"The reason I agree with you is because you're right. It'd be foolish to sail to King's Landing and have our ships destroyed as soon as we got close. I can assure you, I won't be taken advantage of by any of my advisers, and I will make sure of it." . . . She was silent for a while, thinking. Reviving the recently dead.. Is a little questionable. But it could be extremely helpful. "As for your work.. Please, go ahead. I'm curious as to what you mean by reviving the dead." This should be rather wholesome and educational.

His grin seemed to widen further at her mention of drink, he was quite excited for the feast now, the possibility to drink with one of his best friends too good to pass up, "Oh hell yes, it's going to be a fun time for the both of us. I'll have some of the good mead brought out for us, then!" He reached over to rub her bloodstained pelt, having missed how soft it was almost as much as he missed her. All house Cyroos had for heirlooms was the maul and that damn horn they weren't even allowed to blow. There was a drizzle of blue over his cheeks, both from their closeness and the sheer excitement running through him right now that always seemed to float around him on an eve of great significance, like an aura almost. "I think the last time everyone was here was...right after we won the war, actually. Deciding what happened where and all that boring shit. Trust me, Laadzi, if I knew how much browbeating a king took I'd of stayed a soldier." His grin became a normal smile at that, indicating to anyone who really knew him that it was true. A second later, his normal grin returned, "I'm glad we're all together again too, we have plenty of things to discuss before the demon and her horsefuckers get here. With you with me, we have nothing to worry about!" He looked like he was about to say more, but he was interrupted with the arrival of ANOTHER one of his friends. He gave Laadzi a brief but firm friendship squeeze on the shoulder before giving his full attention to the new arrival, "ANVIND, GET OVER HERE YOU SON OF A BITCH!" He barreled over at the smaller Stormlander, wrapping him a hug as tight as the one he gave the Clawbeast.

"Thanks for the tip about Dorne! Might've got up my ass otherwise." He, rather uncharacteristically whispered, his voice rising to its normal volume the next sentence, "Alright, that's five of us here! Now we just need miss Lord Commander to show up, Lord Cultiv, and ol' Mistress of Ships Bevlea." He rattled off, one by one, casually walking an equal distance away from everyone present, arms raised wide to encompass all of the Red Keep, "My home is your hold, my friends. Take rooms as you need them and live to your fullest! I will make myself available should any of you need me! Small Council meeting begins when everyone shows up or whenever I decide it does, feast planning begins immediately! Should any of you want to join me for a meal, then come on!" He turned then, walking back into the Red Keep, an air of confidence around him that only really appeared when in command like this. He didn't know why, but everything seemed...sharper, more in focus than when he was just making choices for himself. He thought that might be what makes him a good grand strategist. He roared over at a few serving trolls to get the chef ready to make a roast, the hunger was fierce. Something only a giant dead pig could satisfy really.


----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Of course, my Queen, but a ruler can not ever reveal what she is truly thinking to her subordinates lest she become predictable. That is the mistake that will eventually lead to Ozeath's death, such behavior is suitable in the North, but in Kings Landing? Never." He sighed, adjusting the collar of his shirt, "But I will expose on that topic at a later time. What I mean is simply that, taking someone who's heart has stopped or has otherwise been incapacitated and returning their body, if not their mind, to a functional state. I accomplish that through a heady and complex series of chemicals that have been so graciously donated to me by the good masters of Lys and Tyrosh, whom I still suggest we conquer before moving on to Westeros, for purely educational services. Some of these ingredients would otherwise be poisons, but in a cocktail of similar and drastically different materials they can actually become beneficial to the body. Though as of now it still destroys the users mind, keeping them in a state where they can only follow simple commands, it is a good start towards the ultimate goal. Perhaps after we retake the Citidel, I can make further headway on my work." The gruesome suggestion of his words was obvious, he wanted the individuals who cast him out to pay dearly. Revenge had been a significant motivating factor in joining the Queen to begin with. Initially it was the only thing, she had a dragon and he had knowledge. But later she had proved to actually be a leader he wouldn't be ashamed to follow.

She made a conquest of a land with eighty thousand barbaric raiders and a fire breathing dragon seem like the right thing to do.

"Th Wars to come will also provide countless opportunities. What do you think the Unsullied feel of death? Further, what do you?"

The mountain of muscle eyed the Stormlands lord and the two hands, before departing with Ozeath and silently giving her household guards permission to spar with his other knights. She had hardly eaten on the way to King's Landing, and took little to no breaks. Everything ached, and she was absolutely starved. She'd speedwalk up beside Ozeath, pushing hair from her face. "I'm starving. I wanted to get here as soon as possible, and completely forgot about eating." Laughing quietly, watching her surroundings. Even though she was in King's Landing, she had to stay aware of her surroundings. Never know what could happen, right? A slave troll could touch her pelt and have to have their blood added to the stains already on it.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"But we are not in King's Landing, currently, and I'll be sure to adjust my behavior for when we are. If it means being able to further your work, I will happily take it for you. As for what I think of death.." She exhaled, closing her eyes. "I do not fear it, as long as my dragons are with me. Evlion will destroy everything in sight if I die, and Isriez will even try himself, though he is far too small." From what she had read on dragons before hers, they could almost sense when their rider--or, mother, in this case-- had died. Knowing how Evlion would react to that could be deadly to her own armies. "If I perish in King's Landing, everything and everyone will burn, I can tell you that."

"What? Come on now, Laadzi, I appreciate that, I really do, but you need to eat like the rest of us, even if you're the fiercest motherfucker in Westeros!" He laughed, giving her a friendly hit on the stomach as he led them to the dining hall, sitting on his customary Big Chair and letting her take the Slightly Smaller Chair next to him. Very official names, of course. "But hey, you're here now, what'cha want? We got it. I have a hog coming out soon, hunted it a few weeks ago, fucking huge. Going to be delicious. It'll take a bit to cook, though." He went on, smiling and going on like he hadn't a care in the world. "How's the West, my Warden? Everyone staying in line? I want to hear everything!" He said excitedly, yelling for some bread to be brought out to get them started.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He chuckled at that, her attitude never ceased to amuse him with how hopelessly self-assured it was, "Of course, my lady. Your indomitable will shall shake the very moral character of Westeros, dusting out webs that have lain there for millennia, growing wide and strong." It was mockery, yes, but done to show her how ridiculous that attitude was to have. "I will be comforted by the vengeance of dragons, perhaps by the end of it there will be enough melted swords for Ozeath's brother to make a new throne once he ascends." After a brief, cold chuckle, he continued, "Control yourself as you do your dragons - Westeros is less a horse to break and more a tiger to tame. Lets avoid burning it down. Will you attempt to bring the Clawbeast," He chuckled at the classical name for the creature, silly Westerlanders, "of the West into the fold? Her...loyalty to the crown is well-known." He said the word as if it was some kind of joke, "Or do you think the Vale, Dorne, and possibly the Iron Fleet, are enough? The Stormlands is highly divided, a fact we can also utilize." He took out a small bottle of Arbor Red, offering her some. "Apologies for only having the bottle, I don't trust any of the cups around here. Prefer drinking from quality Reach glass rather than this eastern work."

She'd settle into the chair, the bones in her back that had gone astray popping back into place. Laadzi groaned, grinning. "Oh, yes.. Finally.." Stretching big and looking over at him. "Pardon that, I haven't sat down somewhere this comfortable since I left. I'll take anything you got, that hog sounds delicious." At the very mention of it, her stomach growled. She adjusted the hood of the massive pelt, running her hand down over the soft fur. "Now, the West.. I've kept the vassals in line for this long, haven't I? Nobody has dared take my lands from me. Except for the few remaining Huslei idiots. They've tried to revive their house a few times, and I stopped on the way to finish them off." Lifting her pelt, new mustard yellow stains on it, her sick grin widening. "You should've been there! The fuckers begged for their lives, it was hilarious!" She chortled, pulling her hair over her shoulder. "You know, Ozeath.. I've missed you a lot. More than you could ever imagine, my friend. Especially after my.. You know who's death. I appreciate you being here for me. A lot."

Laadzi leaned back in her chair, rubbing her eyes. She was completely drained from the long journey, but knew she had to eat before she did anything. Had to stay, y'know, alive. She could hardly hold decent conversation with him, and was visibly exhausted. She'd wake up with a few drinks and a good meal though, and probably even get shitfaced with him.

The King looked sympathetic, patting her on the back gently, "Aye, the saddle ain't a comfortable seat, specially not on horses big enough for us." He kept the smile up though, small and genuine, and motioned at the nearby servant to place an order for another hog. Enough to feed five trolls on their own, but just enough to feed the both of them. "Bring out some ale, too. We'll need it." He said as if it was the most serious thing in the world. He sighed, patting her fluffy coat. He had touched countless pelts but none were as comfortable as that, was it the blood? Maybe. He listened to her, his smile growing fiercer and fiercer as she continued, "Good. Glad you finished that house off. Bunch of cowards, and they breed like roaches. Wish I could've been there too, always wanted to kill one of those demon worshipers, guess you killing them is the next best thing." He said with a growl, "You do good work, sometimes I think you should've been Queen, maybe you would've managed to kill the Travia bitch." He mused, if he had just ended this sweeps ago he could've prevented any of this coming conflict - saved likely thousands of lives, perhaps even his own.

Shit, that was a grim thought. Where was the bloody ale-oh, good. A page ran forward with two tankards as big as his head, leaving one in front of the two of them. He took a few chugs immediately, feeling better just as quickly, smiling back at her and taking comfort in the deaths of his enemies. She was a true friend, a good friend, and one good looking woman. He shook that thought off, he was getting married to some Ironborn gal in a month or so, couldn't afford any of that.

It's what he kept telling himself, at least.

He frowned again, this time it was sad instead of grim. He felt...bad, she shouldn't be feeling this way. "Hey, Laad, You're my best friend. I'll always be here for you. " He wrapped a hand around her shoulder and brought her closer, trying to comfort her, "Forget about all that, lets get shitfaced." He offered her a toast, raising the cup at her. "Just the two of us, like the old times."

She nodded, holding back a grin. Laadzi had much better plans for that Ironborn whore. She'd smile, toasting with him. "Just like old times." She'd have what was rightfully hers soon enough. It'd just take time, patience, and a little bit of bloodshed. But she'd do what she had to in order to have him. She was a Lanlas, after all. "Anyways! Tell me what's been going on over here! I'm sure you've been kept busy dealing with the Travia girl and Dorne, but what else goes on in the life of Ozeath Cyroos?" She knew very well about most of the major things going on in his life through questionable sources, but most of the minor stuff she didn't pay much attention to. It was a little creepy, but again, she did what she had to for him.

Her final words at her execution would most definitely be, "Love makes you do crazy things."

After being crushed by Ozeath's hug he let his three knights join in the spar. He needed to reacquaint himself with the city, but first he needed to speak with the two hands of the king. So he turned his gaze upon them smiling his creepy smile, and walks over to them. " Hello, Hands of the king.  I was wondering if either of you could show me around the city, at a later date. And, perhaps one of you will tell me what I missed whilst dealing with my people in the stormlands and gathering information on Dorne." He says this in a very polite tone, not wanting to potentially offend either hand of the king. But his cheshire smile could cause his sentence to seem ominous.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Fillis began sending letters to all of the houses of Dorne, All but one house held loyalty to her. And she knew that she might have to take drastic measures in order to have the entire military potential of Dorne is prepared for what they do best, Guerilla warfare, and resisting invasion. All the while destroying supply lines of the enemy. Well time to plan things out if they didn't choose to side with her. She did like spilling blood when necessary.

While the others had only just arrived, the Warden of the South had already been in King's Landing for quite some time... though unofficially, of course, as his banners had only arrived this morning. While Aleato did indeed have a mountain of official duties to complete, King's Landing was unmistakably one of the best destinations for gamehouses across the Seven Kingdoms, and the gambler found it hard to do what he did best underneath his relatively recent burden of his mountain of titles.

However, now the time had come for business. While fun and games were had on his own time, however decreasing it was even with his own ways of finding it, business would be had on the king's time. Time, he supposed, was money, and the king was sure to need heaps of it in the months to come. But he was going to find it, damn it, even if it meant gambling for it all himself after the war. People would come to give him respect in the next few months, even if he was not his father or brother, or he would die trying for it.

Aleato was disappointed, of course, to find that while he was technically the first in King's Landing, he was one of the last to enter the Red Keep. Worse still, perhaps, his entrance was probably the most mundane. Whatever. He was Lord paramount of the Reach, ostentatious displays of wealth and power would not change that fact. People knew who he was, and no amount of grandeur, or lack thereof, would change that, for better or worse. Upon entering the area where the rest of the council was situated, he gave them a tip of the hat and a warm smile.

"A thousand apologies, friends. I had some business to take care of, but from now on THIS will be my business." He chuckles at his own joke and brushes a part of his hair away. "Aleato Cultiv, Master of Coin and Lord paramount of the Reach at your service. I trust I will be handling matters of food and gold in the... well, ordeal to come."

---

Solrei frowned. Granted, Solrei with a smile was a rare sight, but in this particular instance, she was frowning. The Lord commander of the Kingsguard took her job very seriously, and when a bunch of foreign bodies pressed themselves against her king so freely -- even with his visual and spoken consent -- it made her skin crawl.

Still, as part of her job was to protect the king with her life, the other was to remain silent unless council was sought from her. Council, it may be said, that may never be sought, since her wisdom and conversation were far from what Solrei was known for, and further still from her strong points.

So there she stood, like an off-puttingly white shadow, several paces against a wall behind the king's seat in the feasting hall, eyes cold like stone in winter fixated on the Lady of Lanlas before her charge. Her hand rested on her broadsword in its sheath. She doubted now of all times would be a place when her weapon would leave its home, but it never hurt to be ready, especially in her line of duty.

Not realizing at all the treasonous plans going on in his companion's head, he laughed and took a long drink of his ale, "Aww, I'm touched, well, to be fair a whole lot of delegation really. I have the maesters and shit deal with most trivial matters of running Kings Landing and sorting through all the easy stuff. So most of my time is spent either training or writing letters to my little brother - how to rule the North properly and all that shit. " He paused, a sudden homesickness overtaking him, "It's a good deal easier to run than Kings Landing, I'll tell ya that. Up there, trolls act like trolls, not a bunch of snakes acting one way when they mean another, trying to get what they want outta you." The way he said it made it seem like this had happened before - multiple times. "Been trying to run it the same way, as if my own stubbornness would change the way southerners think -  bar you and a few others, 'course. You could pass for Northern - but I know it just ain't gonna work. " He mulled over his ale, thinking, "Still...I guess now I'm just concerned with paving the way for the next Cyroos king, and the one after that, and the one after that. The Travias," He spat the name like it was poisonous, "stayed in power as long as they did because of their dragons. Been trying to figure out how we do it. Set up some kind of...system, I guess, to make sure the realm stays stable after my death." He shrugged, trying to smile, "Figure killing the last Travias a good way to start, eh?" He stopped suddenly, as if realizing what he had been talking about, "Uh, sorry about that. Bad topic. Guess I haven't really had the chance to really talk about any of that stuff with anyone yet. Uh, lesse...been planning a trip to the Crablands to beef up defenses, as that is the best place for an invading force to land. Would you join me? I've seen your hold, its strong. Figure you'd know a thing or two about siege warfare if you took it from the last cunts that slept there." He turned his head, calling out to his Lord Commander.

"Ser Solrei, would you like something to eat too? Or sit down or something? Don't want to just...leave you standing there, I guess." Honestly he had always been a bit unsettled by how dedicated she was to her job. It was respectable, for sure, but kind of creepy too. Did she sleep in that armor? He was sure she did, or else he didn't paint the Red Keep blue. Regardless of how creepily stoic she could be, she was one of the most famous knight in the seven kingdoms, hell he had named her the Paramount Knight a couple sweeps ago, "What do you think of the coming invasion? I never get to hear your opinion, and I know you gotta have one."

"Your grace," was Solrei's response to Ozeath as she took the nearest available seat to her charge in response to his offerings. The fact that she was now dining with the Lanlas most likely did not go a long way to pleasing either of them, but who was she to turn down an offering made by the king himself?

A moment of awkward silence passed between the guests before the king posed his question, at which point another similar moment passed as well before the knight spoke. "The times to come will be long, and hard fought. Now and always, my blade is yours." And with that, she resumed her meal. It wasn't much, but coming from Solrei, it might as well have been a five-minute-long speech. Nothing much to be said on the subject in her mind. She, like the rest of the Kingsguard, would fight when they were needed. What more was there to be said? As she saw it: none.

Outside kingslanding, approaching rapidly from over the horizon, numerous black sailed ships could be seen. The sails bore the colors of the iron isles, and leading from the very front center of the fleet, was a ship that was four times the size of the other ships whose hull was adorned in iron. The Kalsar Hearth ship had arrived, and with it, the Mistress of ships commanding it.

After some time, the ships docked and anchored in the port of Kingslanding, the Hearth ship staying out as it could not fit in the small port. Bevlea Kalsar, along with her young niece Oroelo, walked onto the dock and began to make their way towards the feast hall. Her men flooded out, at least those on leave, to go acquire ale and women to bring back to the ships. They would enjoy their visit in kingslanding, as Iron born did when they landed.