Velaryon Family/Aeravon/On the trail of the Old Gods

Roleplay from Aeravon Velaryon

The day was filled with screams and lamentation of men and women of Vore. A plundering mission, a raid with no remorse, a hunter on a mission and the prey on the run. Aeravon felt little pity for the massacre done by the hands of his men. He considered it an advanced tax collection and the lives taken a price to pay for not flying Thalmarkin's banner. The life in the north was harsh. Weaklings were quickly rooted out and only the strong could live on and leave something for the scions that will follow in their wake. At least that was what he was telling himself when his knights, all tall and honorable in battle charge but now mere butchers, delivered the finally tally. Two chests with five hundred gold each and five hundred dead peasants. This business was good if one had a stomach for it. In order to distance himself from the grim reality of soldier's life he retreated to the abandoned Cavendish estate. The name rang a bell and the ringing was not good. Curious, he entered the estate to find abandoned dining hall and broken family banners. Behind one of such banners one could now see a previously hidden and clearly barred door, now revealed and opened, and numerous stairs that spiraled deeper into the ground. Carefully, with his sword arm on Winterthorn's hilt, Aeravon lit the torch and descended. The spiraling stairs lead to a dark room which appeared as some sort of a shrine, likely a meeting place for some underground coven. The room was modest and almost empty except for the small altar which likely used to hold an idol of the sorts, an idol now missing. He raised the torch and lit the ceiling above his head. On the ceiling, he read the carved words. The Masked One Inscrutable is the Scintillating Mystery, the deep cloak and mask hiding the brightness within from all but the most determined of seekers. Though never speaking more than a whisper, the voice booms in the ears with the force of thunder, a primal power resonating from deep within. The weight of the ever present gaze sits eternally in judgement, shining strength ready to lash the world and scour the unworthy.

Aeravon Velaryon