Thread: Gulltown

There was a strong sea tang that carried with the breeze that flushed through the open-air tavern. Brydan Velaryon took a great inhale of the refreshing scent, seated at a rickety table of dull wood as he looked out over the lolling waves of the sea in the distance. No ships plied the seas there, for the war had chased many across the narrow sea, or simply locked them in port for fear of raiding or attack by the fleet of one of many rivaling Kings in the lands. The whole of Westeros seemed to be engulfed in this mad desire for the Iron Throne, giving rise to five different contenders in five different regions of the continent. It was chaos and even with a cool tankard of mead in hand, it hurt his head just thinking of their differing claims and motives. Yet in all this madness, the highborn hedge-knight tried to find an opportunity in it all. Judging by his appearance, one might never had known the thicksetted man to be of noble birth. He wore mud encrusted boots of leather, with leggings of sable hue tucked easily into them. The front of his calves were covered with rusty iron greaves, as were his forearms with a set of vambraces. Over his torso he wore a knee-length robe of pale blue, which was in turn covered by a sleeveless tunic of mail armor, tied about his waist with a black belt. A travel-stained cloak of brown hung about his shoulders, half draped over his form, while at his waist was set a very long sword. No shield did he carry, preferring to fight with the two-handed bastard blade. He did however possess two small knives, one tucked under his left greave, while another was hidden up his right sleeve. He looked in appearance similar to any wandering hedge-knight of the land, poor and down on his luck. In its hilt was craved the small figure of the seahorse, the sigil of his House , and along the length of the blade, the words of his House, to which he could not give any true allegiance due to the orders of King Robert, the Usurper. But he was dead, and the decree he issued against Brydan no longer valid. He was still trying to come to grips with this, having been forced to find his own fortunes and living far from his own home of Driftmark, just south of here. But returning was impossible, with the fleets of Stannis and the child-King Joffrey blocking the straits. There was one option however Scarlet Rose. He had joined the faction not a few years ago, committed to aiding its members in furthering their position through certain methods, and in turn hoping that one day he might be able to call upon their services for his own. Yet it seemed unlikely, for his uncle still ruled. But in war, things happened. Men died and titles changed hands. His uncle only had a young son, a child , as his heir. Brydan would clearly have the stronger claim, if only fortune smiled in his favor. But judging on his own life, it clearly did not. Perhaps he could speak with the leader of Scarlet Rose, a certain Lord of Gulltown, who might be able to voice an opinion on this opportunity. All Brydan had to do was contact the man. He drank deeply from his tankard, deciding he would take a few more moments to enjoy the cool breeze before he set out.