And What a Dance it Was (NO SV, War is Coming, Prepare)

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Ghost in the sun said:
Alicent is Westeros best epic author while Mushroom dominates the comedy market.
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Well, Alicent Hightower, Chronicler of the Second Age of Heroes has a nice ring to it, doesn´t it?

But rather than limiting the classification to Epic and Comedy, I could see Alicen dominating the prose market while Mushroom does the same on the field of theater.

Now if we can manage to train Lucien in Poetry we are dominating 2 of the 3 main literary genres, and we are in a good position to call dibs over music as well.
 
Fanhunter696 said:
But somehow dad and mom managed to beat the curse through the power of love (Thank you Dice Gods for that nat 100), not only that but it also give powers to Gael.
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That result certainly sounds blessed to me no matter what preempted it, honestly the only problem it causes was getting Melisandre's attention and getting her taken away but that was also due to the attention she'd get.
 
Speaking of arts that Quest for Legendary Painter omake I have been writing shall be posted soon... Minisa might contributed a lot for the rumours going around Lucien in the Reach
 
Omake: Minisa Side Quest: Madness Descent.
  • Sidestory
    • Omake: Minisa Side Quest: Madness Descent.

    I can remember perfectly well the moment when I met my wife Minisa, in fact I have it written in the very pages of this journal.

    Unlike most people thought, I didn't meet her in the ballroom of Kings Landing where she often dazzled people with her dancing grace or not even observing the cranes she was so fond of in the Red Rose Lake that was her home.

    In fact when I met her, she almost scared me away with her scowl.

    It was the day of the Smith. The craftsmen, smiths, painters, sculptors, mummers and bards showed their talent on the streets of King's Landing or a few fortunate in front of the King himself.

    The best of the lot was exposed in a hallway in the Red Keep. And that was where I first saw Minisa, standing in front of the painting of Prince Lucien's family together with his two wives.

    Wearing such a heavy expression while she inspectioned the artwork would normally make me wary of approaching her yet a sense of curiosity took me that day.

    What would make such Beauty stare in contempt the image of the Royal Family? Jealously? A Love gone wrong? A family grudge?

    When I asked her so, Minisa smiled and asked in turn "What do you see?"

    I saw a beautiful man worthy of the Prince image described in the songs, with two equally beautiful women by his side (the Sacrilage to the Seven not being commented) and I told her so.

    " Equally beautiful… That's the problem, pray tell me Ser you have never meet the Prince, have you?"

    And this was the benning of unkownly courting my wife Minisa, after some time I forgot about the matter only for it haunt me and Minisa in the future.

    It started with a single innocent letter from one of the Princess's If It was Hightower or The Realm Delight It no longer important. All of it said was that the Sunstone construction was complete and they would furnish the place soon.

    Sweet Minisa thought of giving a gift to her long time friends by commisionating a painting.

    That was when disaster struck.

    It was easy for her to arrange for a master to do such work given how she often assisted the Late Queen Aemma with her artistic pursuits.

    Yet the it didn't take long for her insastifaction with master work to show. And as such she summoned other masters for the said painting.

    And again all of them failed to meet her standarts.

    At that point rumours started to fly, some of the artists fiercely recused Minisa requests other came on their own accord to Greyshield island as some way to improve their own standing by being the one to complete Minisa requests. Others took wind of the tale and soon started playing theater, making satirical drawings of Prince Lucien each one uglier than the last.

    It was a short time for the Reach start to being flooded with works of Prince Lucien image by fake coins, sculptures, paintings, tapestries, songs and tales alluding to it, all of it because Minisa maintaned her high standarts.

    I would have put a stop to it hadnt the number of people and artists brought with them a good number of coins to Greyshield. Some nobles even traveled to the island to see the plays and artwork, the merchants were not left behind and short after they moved in as well.

    Minisa althought unhappy because they couldnt paint the one work she desired was glad she managed to help with Greyshield income with her blunder rather than hinder It… In some ways she became more determined than ever.

    " None can capture Prince Lucien etheral beauty right, If a master cant do the job then only a Legendary Painter may do so "

    And thus is how we ended in a remote village searching for the said man, a man of valaryan ancestry said to hail from Lys. A Maestro Marcelo, who was responsible for sculpting the famous Weeping Lady in the center of the city.

    I only hope he can meet her demands and if not Minisa promised she would give up her research and focus on other matters.

    Journal of Lord Jon Greyshield of Greyshield.

    Notes: Not my best work but I done it!
     
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  • Sidestory
    • Abensur said:
    That result certainly sounds blessed to me no matter what preempted it, honestly the only problem it causes was getting Melisandre's attention and getting her taken away but that was also due to the attention she'd get.
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    That one is on me actually, I asked @Magoose as a joke if Melissandre was going to take Gael to Hogwarts, and he liked the idea...

    I did the dumbest thing you can do in quests and RPG and gave the master an idea...
     
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    I mean I tried with the sleaze plan, I really did, but how was I supposed to know that an immortal bag of cats was hanging out in Ghiscari central.
     
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    • The Last Voyage 4: It Was His Song.
  • Threadmarks
    • The Last Voyage 4: It Was His Song.

    []A Song of Fire and Blood: You will see just how strong the bond is. And if it can be used against the enemy.

    (Lucien POV)

    You were tied to a stake, atop a pyre, with the whole world watching. There was much to be done, but nothing could prepare you for looking at Daemon. This thing wearing his face. "It must anger you." The man said as you growled in anger, feeling so much and so little at the same time. Fury, love, frustration, and regret… Along with feelings of guilt, and devastation. This was a man you loved. He was your father in many ways, even when Valaar returned to be a more active role in your life. Yet here in front of you, you felt nothing but wishing for his death. "Wearing his face. Knowing the things that he knows, even as he is still clawing, trying to get back in." He chuckled.

    "What are you?" You spat, but instead, he twitched, and he smiled.

    "You will not know the truth of what I am, but your family was instrumental… in many great things for the Valyrian Freehold. Even it's ending." But looked away. "To think that the blood of Old Valyrian, the True blood of old Valyria, was wasting away on a simple rock in the middle of the Sea." He chuckled. "They were nothing before they left to save their own worthless hides…"

    Then he stopped. "But I'm getting ahead of myself. There is so much more I want to do with this body, after he burns Aegons Throne to the ground. Shattering the world as it was meant to be. To be under the boot of worthy powers."

    "And you believe you are?" You growled.

    "My dear boy, have you not been paying attention?" He whispered before he lifted your chin up, and made you stare into Daemon's eyes…

    And you saw blackness. Emptiness…

    Nothingness. "You see it now don't you." He smiled. "To think I was after him when your body is far greater than this one. Beauty beyond compare? Strength, height, charisma, and prowess. You remind me of myself." He then gently tapped your check and pulled it. "It's like staring into a mirror, that is… so perfect in its reflection… that it almost makes me think that magic is at work."

    "But of course, it is at work." He then drew Twilight and pointed it at you. "To think that the blade would return to me after it was stolen." He then laughed. "You do not know the story?"

    "No one knew it." You growled.

    "A great blade, forged in the Volcanos of Old Valyria. By dragon fire and steel, and blood, for an Emperor. A leader, a man who could conquer the world." He then smiled. "Me."

    Then he slashed you across the cheek, leaving a small cut, as if to make you bleed, but not scar. "You know it is quite strange that after all this time, it was the Targaryens that would bring about the next age of magic." He then chuckled. "And with the help of a Red Priestess no less."

    You glared at him, the man wearing the face of the man you called father. "To think that Daemon decided to flee, instead of face me. To think he was the one who wanted to stop me." He smiled. "I'm going to make sure he can watch me, destroy you, and wear your body. To bring back what is rightfully mine."

    He nodded. "To think, I learned this trick from a Bolton." He then sheathed the blade. "I'm not going to kill you yet though. Those pesky little beasts, need to be dealt with."

    Revealing the Horror:D100 => 98

    Your eyes hardened as he whistled. From the earth, a beast of Legend. "Do you know what can kill dragons? The only thing that can kill a Dragon?"

    He did not wait for an answer, as the entire world shook from the movement. "A Larger Dragon."

    And the Dragon Roared.

    "<IKAS! The LEGEND! Kill the DRAGONS!>"

    And it flew, to hunt.
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    (The Grey Ghost POV)

    This was not a Dragon.

    This was beyond what Dragonkind could understand. Only through the most ancient of magics, could one make one so old, so powerful…

    So reliant on man's magic.

    You made sure all your brethren were prepared. They would die here if you did not work together.

    And its Roar shook the sky. "You are meat!" It screamed, more in pain, than in anger. More like a caged beast finally let out, starved and uncared for.

    "And you are Cattle!" You roared back.

    Sunfryre and Caraxes took your right, while Sheepstealer stayed close to your wing. It was flying towards you.

    And you have only one way to kill it.
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    (Lucien POV)

    And What a Dance Began: D100 + 100 => 157 vsD100 + 150 => 160

    "And so a Dance begins." the man replied with glee as the Dragons began to fight.

    And it was not going well. You saw immediately that the Dragons were going to go for the wings, to try and slow down the beast, but experience, age, or some combination just made it quite literally shrugged it off.

    The Dragons have pushed away, and the man wearing Daemon's face only smiled and cheered. "The Greatest Dragon in all the world, greater than even Balerion the Black Dread himself." He chuckled. "This Dragon is a thousand years old. The things it has seen, things it has done."

    "It will destroy them all."

    You growled. "Do you ever stop talking?"

    He chuckled some more. "After two hundred years of silence. The way this body is?" He than turned and spun. "To think that my oldest allies daughters found such a loving fondness of him, because of how little he talked."

    You then realized who you were speaking to. "Ras?" You asked.

    "Ah, so it finally dawned on you." He smiled as he walked over. "I dreamed of an empire of the shadows… but I settled for an already existing empire. The world was mine…" He then shook his head. "Ra's Al Ghul is not inhabiting this body, as much as he wished he did."

    "Then who are you?" You asked.

    He smiled. "You can call me Kefka."

    A moment passed and you looked up at the Dragons.
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    (The Grey Ghost POV)

    A moment was an eternity as you watched your brethren watch the beast.

    "Brother. I need you." The Grey Ghost asked.

    "Give me your power, and I will do what I need to do."
    --------------------------------------------
    (Lucien)
    You breathed in.

    Breathed out. "Alright brother."

    But instead, Kefka only laughed. "Do what you will to make this interesting… You cannot win."
    -----------------------------
    (Grey Ghost)
    Dancing Mad: D100 + 100 => 164 vs D100 + 150 => 234

    Dragon Event:D10 => 1

    Which Dragon Died:D4 => 1

    Sheepstealer did not see the flame that blinded him. Nor the Bite that tore her to pieces.

    But instead, there was only silence, as the last gasp of the Dragon was to shoot fire in it's eyes.

    But the Legendary Dragon continued.

    And Grey Ghost felt power. He was angered.

    And the power of his Brother.

    "I will avenge her, brother."
    -------------------------------------------
    (Lucien)
    "NO!" You shouted as Sheepstealer was torn to pieces, and Kefka cackled like a madman.

    "A Dead Dragon!" He shouted in jubilance as he turned and danced. "To think in I never got to see one killed from the ground!" He cacked. "Well now. Don't worry. Don't Worry… greater dragons have died facing this beast."

    The Breath of Fire: D100 => 1

    You wanted to scream. You wanted so desperately to cry out in anguish at what happened.

    Yet you closed your eyes. It was hopeless.
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    (The Grey Ghost)
    And your brother failed to keep giving you power.

    You were going to die.
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    (Daemon The Blood Wyrm)

    He had almost given into despair

    What kind of father would you be, if you did not be what you were to him?

    You are the Rouge Prince. The Hero of his life. The man who lost everything. The man who could gain it all back.

    Now, in this mind, in this Dragon, you could only do one thing.

    "My Brother… Hear me. They say gods can't Die." The Dragon Half spoke.

    "Let us show them how to die." The Human half spoke.

    And both merged together for this moment, would not require two.

    But one.

    Fire: D100 + 100 => 197 vsD100 + 150 => 172
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    (Lucien)
    You looked up at the light in the sky. And Kefka could only watch, grabbing his head as he screamed in pain. "No… NO! I can't see!"

    Caraxes had gone for the Eyes with breaths of blue fire.

    And succeeded. "NO NO!"

    A monster was a monster. But a blind monster was far less dangerous.
    ---------------------------------------------------

    (Daemon)

    You roared.

    To go for the Kill.

    "Brothers!" He shouted. "NOW!"

    And Daemon Targaryen screamed.

    Daemon the Blood Wyrm answered.
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    (Lucien)
    Hope and Father's:D100 => 89

    And you stood, and roared, fire unleashing from your breath, as tears became lava down your cheeks. "Kill him now!"

    Kefka screamed. "NO!" As he drew the blade. "DIE!"

    And he stabbed
    --------------------------------------------
    The Grey Ghost

    Blood:D100 + 100 => 189 vsD100 + 150 => 180

    Event Roll:D2 => 2

    "Brother, it will be okay."
    ----------------------------------------------------------
    (Lucien)

    And the Dragon went limp. Two bites occurred that you could see before the monster fell to the ground.

    One from the bite of Tiny Sunyre, deep into it's wing, tearing the leathery wing to nothing, as it was completely destroyed.

    The other is from Grey Ghost.

    From a bite in the neck that was powered by Blue blame. And the neck severed.

    The Legend was dead.

    And you were bleeding as your ropes were but, as the blade was stabbed through your side, not enough to kill you, but to cause great pain.

    Kefka, laughing mad.

    "No… You will not return. I decide when they all live and DIE!"

    What do you do?:

    []Go to Sleep: "Lucien, it will be alright." Daemon said. "I'll be here for you."

    []Stay Awake: Fire was unleashed from Daemon's body. "NO!" He screamed, and you could hear his voice. Daemon's voice. All you could see was pain. Pain and fire… Fire and Blood.
     
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    • [X]Stay Awake: Fire was unleashed from Daemon's body. "NO!" He screamed, and you could hear his voice. Daemon's voice. All you could see was pain. Pain and fire… Fire and Blood.
     
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