Verse Zero
Senior Member
The Throne is only Law, The Crown is only a Symbol, The Man is Lord.-Valyrian Proverb
With Fire & Steel
Summer, 309 VC
49th Year of Brandyn V Targaryen's reign
The Palori (Former Appalachian) Mountains
Kingdom of Vergania Western Border
A memory of Dragon's Fire
The day was warm, a chill breeze blew over the mountains and gentle slopes of The Palori mountains and the chirping of birds echoed throughout the forests and gentle fields. All was serene if one looked from those mountain tops down upon the boundless wilderness. A panorama only disturbed by smoke wafting in from the West. There was something occurring in the valley. The shouts of men, jingling of armor, sharpening of arms, and the march of many feet. The whining of horses as rank upon rank of cavalry left a vast encampment surrounded by a palisade. Rows of tents stretched across a clearing.
Cresting a hillock the cavalry gazed down on two armies squaring off. Across the valley floor a fast approaching mass of men and women surged. Blaring terrible war horns that assaulted the senses and wielding all manner of weaponry. Their chiefs were mounted and urged their tribes warriors on wards. Hollering in their harsh language.
The imperial army before the cavalry stood awaiting them, save for the left flank made up of Grey Cloaks under Sir Gawthorne a Commander in the Kaesar's soldiery and this ordered block of polished armor shining in the sun trailed by fluttering grey cloaks moved forward in marching steps. The cavalry began to move forward, trotting behind a leading figure in blood red armor decorated with black dragons.
The red armor betrayed who he was, Brandyn V Targaryen "The Dragon Lord", and beside him was a young man no older than 16. Marcus Havel, squire to the Kaesar and bearing the imperial banner for his liege. The Kaesar was still strong and formidable for his age. Marcus the youth riding beside him was nervous as he bit his lip. This was Marcus first battle and he was determined not to let down his mentor.
As the Kaesar approached the cavalry broke off heading to the left flank and led by Crown Prince Valendyn. The Kaesar moved to the rear of the levies with his squire and dismounted. His steel clad feet hit the ground, and the Verganian levies made way for their liege. The levies were peasants raised from the Kaesar's Verganian territories. Many wore mail while some donned armored brigantine. Dismounted Knights and Household troops wearing the red and black of House Targaryen were also mingled in and kneeling to their liege. The Kaesar raised his visor as he walked by too look at his men. As if knowing each and every one of them. They would follow "The Dragon Lord" to whatever hell awaited them and back without question. The looks on their faces was that of grim determination.
Moving to the front rank Brandyn gazed back at them all and unsheathed his sword Starflame, for the blade much like the Kaesar's eyes shone in hues of yellow, orange, and red. Like dragon fire made steel but shining like a falling star.
"Men. Those barbarians only seek one thing. To pillage! Rape! And Kill your loved ones!"
The levies all stared with anger in their eyes. The tone of the Kaesars voice was hypnotic, instilling a righteous fire in their bellies, and all listened intently.
"But not today! Today, we're going to send them to meet whatever demons they worship too in the afterlife!" The Kaesar lowered his visor and raising his sword began to march towards the enemy. Beside him Marcus unfurled the imperial standard. A golden dragon under three silver starts. The levies followed in barely contained fury.
The Kaesar glanced to the left and could see the clash of the ordered ranks of the Grey Cloaks with a horde of Wildmen. Grey Cloak archers delivered disciplined fire into the rear ranks of the Wildmen while spear men shielded them. Sir Gawthorne pressed forward with Grey Cloak soldiers that had drawn their swords into a savage melee. Spears impaled torso's, arrows punctured flesh, and swords bashed in skulls. The Kaesar swore he saw Sir Gawthorne gore a Wildmen woman swinging a falx. Her dying cries as she fought to recover the loops of her intestines spilling out from her ruined abdomen. Sir Gawthorne by then had moved on and disappeared once more into the savage fight.
The Kaesar looked on and saw his young son forming the cavalry into a solid block between the left flank of the levies and the rear of the Grey Cloaks. Swinging his head to the right Brandyn saw his levies keeping good order. The banners of Verganian nobles fluttered in the breeze. The Targaryen Household contingent that had accompanied the Kaesar formed the ranks immediately behind Marcus and his monarch. Two Knights of the Kaesarguard followed a step behind the Kaesar as the Wildmen surged towards them. Marcus looked up and thought he saw a dark shape moving in the clouds, but the sound of war horns before him snapped his head back to looking forward.
The Kaesar looked forward and lowered his visor as the first arrows of the Verganian levies struck the mass of advancing wild men. The Kaesar readied his sword into a high guard and broke into a run. The imperials behind him surged forth as both sides smashed into one another in a great thunderclap. The Kaesar swung Starflame
down in a savage arc. Cleaving a Wildman skull into two halves. Blood squirted and spattered across Marcus face. The young boy flinched as he deflected a wild swing from a tribesman before him. Sir Quinton of the Kaesarguard beside him stepped forward and sank his blade into the neck of the attacker. Shoving the squire back. Marcus now not directly engaged simply raised the imperial standard. All around him the cries of the dying rolled across the battlefield. Blood swirled on the growing mire of the battlefield as the imperials pushed the Wildmen back across the brook. Marcus nearly lost his footing as he stepped onto the rocky brook bed. Keeping the banner raised a savage shout to his left drew the boy's attention. A giant of a man wielding a battle ax crashed through the ranks of the Verganian levies. Each swing slew a man and a savage roar followed by the decapitation of a levy man right in front of Marcus caused the boy to trip and fall. Marcus yelled in fear as he back peddled on his hands and feat. Trying to keep his sword raised before him. A fierce swing came at him and the boy rolled. The ax struck stone and sparks flew. The Wildman roared in anger and delivered a quick back hand blow with his ax. Knocking Marcus sword away the boy drew his dagger and screamed. Rolling the boy barely escaped from having the ax embedded in his neck. Rolling to his knees Marcus stabbed the wild man in the knee cap. Crunching through bone and severing tendons. The Wildman yelled in pain. Slamming down to his knees and punching the boy in the face. A meaty fist slammed into the boys helmet. Knocking him back into the brook and on top of the fallen banner. Grasping it in his hands Marcus pointed it like a lance and sprinted forward. Crying in anger the boy shoved the bottom point of the banner into the Wildman's eye socket. Bursting his orbital and mulching the mans brain. A firm hand gripped Marcus shoulder and the boy swung around. The Kaesar was looking at him, looked at the Wildman, and smiled. Turning around the Kaesar stormed back into the fray. Marcus hurrying after him with a face of determination and trauma.
Looking out across the fighting Crown Prince Valendyn saw the battlefield with a birds eye view. The Kaesar was pushing the Wildmen in the general direction of Sir Gawthorne's Grey Cloaks. Intentionally making a gap the Wildmen would fall into and be exposed.
"Sound the charge!" said the Prince as he lowered his own visor and drew Lightbringer. The ancestral sword of House Targaryen as it shown with pale light. The blade was pure white like snow and the prince pointed it forward while nudging his steed into a trot, then a full charge. The cavalry, made of armored Knights and Grey Cloak horsemen, slammed into the exposed Wildmen like a sledge hammer. Bodies were thrown into the air as armored horses slammed through bodies. Bones broke, flesh tore, and more cries erupted. Valendyn hewed his way forward with the rest of the Kaesarguard around him. The Wildmen broke and began a retreat to the forests.
A roar from above drew everyone's head up to the sky. Plummeting down was a massive beast with a roar so piercing it hurt. Unfurling its great wings Nightflame, The Drakar of Brandyn V Targaryen, and the mightiest since Aenarion The White swooped over the battlefield. A jet of flame erupted from its mouth, bathing a swathe of retreating Wildmen in fire, and their screams continued as they died the slowest agonizing death of all. Armor and flesh melted as the Drakar tore a fiery path through the Wildmen. They could not flee, stuck between the advancing Valyrians and the Drakar, within the hour all would die. But the memories for all those who lived through this battle would live on forever.
Valyrian Empire
Valyria City, Throne Room
May 1st, 328 VC
Mine is the Fury-Motto of Kaesar Brandyn V Targaryen
The Kaesar, Valendyn III, awoke startled. He was half slouched on the Diamond Throne. The memories of past battles receded in his mind, but the trauma and horror of it all remained the same, he was not like his father who could easily stomach bashing someone's head in. Every face of every person hes ever killed now lives on in his head. The passing of years may have lessened the frequency for these nightmares, but the horror they brought back to Valendyn had never diminished.
Glancing to the right the statue of his father stood. Looking down the Kaesar felt the smooth stone surface of the Diamond Throne. Forged by Brandyn I Targaryen as a symbol of the Empire. All the diamonds of the Quintarchs had been taken and melted into the shape of a throne by Aenarion The White. Its surface was glossy and shone with absolute brilliance.
The realm weighed down upon Valendyn as he drifted back to sleep, back to dreams of battle and dragon's fire. At least he would have if not for the pressing concern to review the state of the realm. So with an effort Valendyn rose from the throne and walked down the steps. Moving from the shadows a pair of Kaesarguard came into view and fell into step behind their monarch.
The exact reason for this was due to information that troops from the Kingdom of Savan had been seen massing on the border. An invasion might be on the horizon.
Dragonstone
Crown Prince Vaenarion looked out at the Atlantis Sea. Its deep blue waves striking the white beach surrounding the island Dragonstone was built upon. The Crown Prince held Dragonstone as a sign of him being heir to the Throne. Behind him a feminine voice fluttered onto the balcony. "My dragon come back to bed?" A young woman, nude with plump breasts and a full ass, leaned against the stonework of the door frame. Her hair was long and blonde with light green eyes. Angela was her name, the daughter of a Noble in Vergania. Though Vaenarion could not seem to remember her last name. 'D'Marci? Demarci? Demaersi?' One of those Vaenarion thought.
His father, the Kaesar, frowned on Vaenarions womanizing behavior. Fathering bastards could lead to complications in the future and the anger of fathers who felt their daughters had been wrongly deflowered. But Vaenarion had ignored his fathers advice on that account. If a woman was to fling herself upon him, then she'd have to deal with the possible consequences. After all he was Crown Prince, its not like a woman of lower nobility could gainsay him.
"My Lord?" Her voice was sweet and kind. Vaenarion slowly turned away from the Sea and smiled. Picking up her nude form and carrying her back into the bedroom. Her giggling voice trailing away.
With Fire & Steel
Summer, 309 VC
49th Year of Brandyn V Targaryen's reign
The Palori (Former Appalachian) Mountains
Kingdom of Vergania Western Border
A memory of Dragon's Fire
The day was warm, a chill breeze blew over the mountains and gentle slopes of The Palori mountains and the chirping of birds echoed throughout the forests and gentle fields. All was serene if one looked from those mountain tops down upon the boundless wilderness. A panorama only disturbed by smoke wafting in from the West. There was something occurring in the valley. The shouts of men, jingling of armor, sharpening of arms, and the march of many feet. The whining of horses as rank upon rank of cavalry left a vast encampment surrounded by a palisade. Rows of tents stretched across a clearing.
Cresting a hillock the cavalry gazed down on two armies squaring off. Across the valley floor a fast approaching mass of men and women surged. Blaring terrible war horns that assaulted the senses and wielding all manner of weaponry. Their chiefs were mounted and urged their tribes warriors on wards. Hollering in their harsh language.
The imperial army before the cavalry stood awaiting them, save for the left flank made up of Grey Cloaks under Sir Gawthorne a Commander in the Kaesar's soldiery and this ordered block of polished armor shining in the sun trailed by fluttering grey cloaks moved forward in marching steps. The cavalry began to move forward, trotting behind a leading figure in blood red armor decorated with black dragons.
The red armor betrayed who he was, Brandyn V Targaryen "The Dragon Lord", and beside him was a young man no older than 16. Marcus Havel, squire to the Kaesar and bearing the imperial banner for his liege. The Kaesar was still strong and formidable for his age. Marcus the youth riding beside him was nervous as he bit his lip. This was Marcus first battle and he was determined not to let down his mentor.
As the Kaesar approached the cavalry broke off heading to the left flank and led by Crown Prince Valendyn. The Kaesar moved to the rear of the levies with his squire and dismounted. His steel clad feet hit the ground, and the Verganian levies made way for their liege. The levies were peasants raised from the Kaesar's Verganian territories. Many wore mail while some donned armored brigantine. Dismounted Knights and Household troops wearing the red and black of House Targaryen were also mingled in and kneeling to their liege. The Kaesar raised his visor as he walked by too look at his men. As if knowing each and every one of them. They would follow "The Dragon Lord" to whatever hell awaited them and back without question. The looks on their faces was that of grim determination.
Moving to the front rank Brandyn gazed back at them all and unsheathed his sword Starflame, for the blade much like the Kaesar's eyes shone in hues of yellow, orange, and red. Like dragon fire made steel but shining like a falling star.
"Men. Those barbarians only seek one thing. To pillage! Rape! And Kill your loved ones!"
The levies all stared with anger in their eyes. The tone of the Kaesars voice was hypnotic, instilling a righteous fire in their bellies, and all listened intently.
"But not today! Today, we're going to send them to meet whatever demons they worship too in the afterlife!" The Kaesar lowered his visor and raising his sword began to march towards the enemy. Beside him Marcus unfurled the imperial standard. A golden dragon under three silver starts. The levies followed in barely contained fury.
The Kaesar glanced to the left and could see the clash of the ordered ranks of the Grey Cloaks with a horde of Wildmen. Grey Cloak archers delivered disciplined fire into the rear ranks of the Wildmen while spear men shielded them. Sir Gawthorne pressed forward with Grey Cloak soldiers that had drawn their swords into a savage melee. Spears impaled torso's, arrows punctured flesh, and swords bashed in skulls. The Kaesar swore he saw Sir Gawthorne gore a Wildmen woman swinging a falx. Her dying cries as she fought to recover the loops of her intestines spilling out from her ruined abdomen. Sir Gawthorne by then had moved on and disappeared once more into the savage fight.
The Kaesar looked on and saw his young son forming the cavalry into a solid block between the left flank of the levies and the rear of the Grey Cloaks. Swinging his head to the right Brandyn saw his levies keeping good order. The banners of Verganian nobles fluttered in the breeze. The Targaryen Household contingent that had accompanied the Kaesar formed the ranks immediately behind Marcus and his monarch. Two Knights of the Kaesarguard followed a step behind the Kaesar as the Wildmen surged towards them. Marcus looked up and thought he saw a dark shape moving in the clouds, but the sound of war horns before him snapped his head back to looking forward.
The Kaesar looked forward and lowered his visor as the first arrows of the Verganian levies struck the mass of advancing wild men. The Kaesar readied his sword into a high guard and broke into a run. The imperials behind him surged forth as both sides smashed into one another in a great thunderclap. The Kaesar swung Starflame
down in a savage arc. Cleaving a Wildman skull into two halves. Blood squirted and spattered across Marcus face. The young boy flinched as he deflected a wild swing from a tribesman before him. Sir Quinton of the Kaesarguard beside him stepped forward and sank his blade into the neck of the attacker. Shoving the squire back. Marcus now not directly engaged simply raised the imperial standard. All around him the cries of the dying rolled across the battlefield. Blood swirled on the growing mire of the battlefield as the imperials pushed the Wildmen back across the brook. Marcus nearly lost his footing as he stepped onto the rocky brook bed. Keeping the banner raised a savage shout to his left drew the boy's attention. A giant of a man wielding a battle ax crashed through the ranks of the Verganian levies. Each swing slew a man and a savage roar followed by the decapitation of a levy man right in front of Marcus caused the boy to trip and fall. Marcus yelled in fear as he back peddled on his hands and feat. Trying to keep his sword raised before him. A fierce swing came at him and the boy rolled. The ax struck stone and sparks flew. The Wildman roared in anger and delivered a quick back hand blow with his ax. Knocking Marcus sword away the boy drew his dagger and screamed. Rolling the boy barely escaped from having the ax embedded in his neck. Rolling to his knees Marcus stabbed the wild man in the knee cap. Crunching through bone and severing tendons. The Wildman yelled in pain. Slamming down to his knees and punching the boy in the face. A meaty fist slammed into the boys helmet. Knocking him back into the brook and on top of the fallen banner. Grasping it in his hands Marcus pointed it like a lance and sprinted forward. Crying in anger the boy shoved the bottom point of the banner into the Wildman's eye socket. Bursting his orbital and mulching the mans brain. A firm hand gripped Marcus shoulder and the boy swung around. The Kaesar was looking at him, looked at the Wildman, and smiled. Turning around the Kaesar stormed back into the fray. Marcus hurrying after him with a face of determination and trauma.
Looking out across the fighting Crown Prince Valendyn saw the battlefield with a birds eye view. The Kaesar was pushing the Wildmen in the general direction of Sir Gawthorne's Grey Cloaks. Intentionally making a gap the Wildmen would fall into and be exposed.
"Sound the charge!" said the Prince as he lowered his own visor and drew Lightbringer. The ancestral sword of House Targaryen as it shown with pale light. The blade was pure white like snow and the prince pointed it forward while nudging his steed into a trot, then a full charge. The cavalry, made of armored Knights and Grey Cloak horsemen, slammed into the exposed Wildmen like a sledge hammer. Bodies were thrown into the air as armored horses slammed through bodies. Bones broke, flesh tore, and more cries erupted. Valendyn hewed his way forward with the rest of the Kaesarguard around him. The Wildmen broke and began a retreat to the forests.
A roar from above drew everyone's head up to the sky. Plummeting down was a massive beast with a roar so piercing it hurt. Unfurling its great wings Nightflame, The Drakar of Brandyn V Targaryen, and the mightiest since Aenarion The White swooped over the battlefield. A jet of flame erupted from its mouth, bathing a swathe of retreating Wildmen in fire, and their screams continued as they died the slowest agonizing death of all. Armor and flesh melted as the Drakar tore a fiery path through the Wildmen. They could not flee, stuck between the advancing Valyrians and the Drakar, within the hour all would die. But the memories for all those who lived through this battle would live on forever.
Valyrian Empire
Valyria City, Throne Room
May 1st, 328 VC
Mine is the Fury-Motto of Kaesar Brandyn V Targaryen
The Kaesar, Valendyn III, awoke startled. He was half slouched on the Diamond Throne. The memories of past battles receded in his mind, but the trauma and horror of it all remained the same, he was not like his father who could easily stomach bashing someone's head in. Every face of every person hes ever killed now lives on in his head. The passing of years may have lessened the frequency for these nightmares, but the horror they brought back to Valendyn had never diminished.
Glancing to the right the statue of his father stood. Looking down the Kaesar felt the smooth stone surface of the Diamond Throne. Forged by Brandyn I Targaryen as a symbol of the Empire. All the diamonds of the Quintarchs had been taken and melted into the shape of a throne by Aenarion The White. Its surface was glossy and shone with absolute brilliance.
The realm weighed down upon Valendyn as he drifted back to sleep, back to dreams of battle and dragon's fire. At least he would have if not for the pressing concern to review the state of the realm. So with an effort Valendyn rose from the throne and walked down the steps. Moving from the shadows a pair of Kaesarguard came into view and fell into step behind their monarch.
The exact reason for this was due to information that troops from the Kingdom of Savan had been seen massing on the border. An invasion might be on the horizon.
Dragonstone
Crown Prince Vaenarion looked out at the Atlantis Sea. Its deep blue waves striking the white beach surrounding the island Dragonstone was built upon. The Crown Prince held Dragonstone as a sign of him being heir to the Throne. Behind him a feminine voice fluttered onto the balcony. "My dragon come back to bed?" A young woman, nude with plump breasts and a full ass, leaned against the stonework of the door frame. Her hair was long and blonde with light green eyes. Angela was her name, the daughter of a Noble in Vergania. Though Vaenarion could not seem to remember her last name. 'D'Marci? Demarci? Demaersi?' One of those Vaenarion thought.
His father, the Kaesar, frowned on Vaenarions womanizing behavior. Fathering bastards could lead to complications in the future and the anger of fathers who felt their daughters had been wrongly deflowered. But Vaenarion had ignored his fathers advice on that account. If a woman was to fling herself upon him, then she'd have to deal with the possible consequences. After all he was Crown Prince, its not like a woman of lower nobility could gainsay him.
"My Lord?" Her voice was sweet and kind. Vaenarion slowly turned away from the Sea and smiled. Picking up her nude form and carrying her back into the bedroom. Her giggling voice trailing away.
Last edited by a moderator: