Velaryon Family/Monterys/Past and Future

Roleplay from Monterys Velaryon

CITY UNDER SIEGE Dwilight, three years ago, height of the Gold Sea Conflict. Monterys stood on the prow of the D'Haran war ship. Behind him, the largest fleet assembled in recent history was breaking the waves of the high seas and drawing near to their target - Golden Farrow. Ships of the Dragon Fleet were notorious for their speed and durability. They were built of solid timber of the Dragon Isles and the vicious heads of their war ships were known for terror and efficiency among the peoples of southern and central Dwilight. Recently their prowess became apparent for westerners too. As D'Hara joined their ally Westgard in the Gold Sea Conflict the Goldorans cried woe every time whence they spotted the islanders banner or heard the sound of their horns. Monterys was restless. This war was his opportunity to shine, the upcoming battle his chance to become a legend. A young and jaunty Madinan commander groomed under the wings of the Madinan Sun and then battle-hardened at the helm of the Sea Dragons knew that the next few days will determine the worth of his name. The legacy he will leave for the scions of House Velaryon and the Boreean branch was forthcoming. His campaign in the far west and the sacking of Itau already made the islanders adore him, but this was something different. As the Goldoran siege went on the Dragon Fleet together with Westgardian host were preparing to land in the city and break the siege. Every action and plan he made in this war lead to this moment and everything depended on the success of this campaign. This would also be the first time he leads into battle side by side with Gheric Arylon, the new King of Westgard. He exchanged hundreds of letters with him in the planning phase of the campaign and Monterys was eager to finally fight side by side. At that time little was known to him about Gheric, except that he was the son of Fisc Arylon, a legendary King of Everguard that even Montery's ancient forefathers feared and respected. Now, Monterys stood side by side with prime Arylonian blood and in charge of a host that will rarely be assembled again. As the city walls began to come closer and closer Monterys waited with suspense. He felt as if the storm that brew within him summoned all the storms of his life and he was ready for everything. As the drums of Westgard began to roar he ordered the horns of the Dragon Fleet to sound. A sonorous sound engulfed the bay of the Farrows as the first Goldoran arrows began to fall upon them. A few more meters and then it begins, he thought to himself just as he raised his shield to cover his head. Monterys was ready to burn his enemies with dragon's fire and pave his way to glory and not even death was going to stop him.

Monterys Velaryon

Roleplay from Monterys Velaryon

BROTHERS BY FIRE Dwilight, three years ago, at the walls of Farrowfield. The allied army marched on to Farrowfield. The siege of Golden Farrow was easily thwarted as Goldorans were quick to lift the siege just to make a tactical retreat to the neighboring town. Reinforced by firm walls and manned by almost two thousand men the town appeared sinister and frightening, but the siege nevertheless began. First battle was a narrow defeat for Gheric and Monterys. Yet they pressed on again, despite the odds, for they knew well that the defending army had to be crushed if this campaign was to be a success that would turn the tides of war. Monterys was quickly swayed by Gheric's leadership. The King was regal in demeanor, fierce in battle and had the charisma of a roaring lion. Furthermore Gheric made several crucial moves in close combat that literally saved Monterys' life which only strengthened his devotion and sense of loyalty to this man. He rightly considered him a brother, not one who shared his blood but one born out of camaraderie and bravery. The fires that they've survived in these battles have only fueled their bond and their verve, and Monterys was ready to follow this man to the end if need be. And that end appeared to be near. Just as the second battle was underway the sky darkened by the maelstrom of arrows that came falling down from those deadly walls. Monterys raised his banner and signaled the charge of the islanders. At the same time Gheric lead the Westgardian host ahead. Monterys felt like he was synced to this man, somehow connected and ready to read his mind without ever having to talk to him. Through the hail of arrows their army lines pressed forward with no remorse or fear. Only thing that could be won by such a direct assault was glory, and glory was in high demand on that day. Ladders and siege towers were placed on the walls and Monterys quickly mounted one with his personal guards and found himself through the breach of the enemy lines. He quickly unleashed his twin blades from the scabbards and started to play his symphony of death. Melee was never just a means for him to kill. It was more, it was both poetry and beauty engorged in blood and he reveled in it. His twin blades danced like valkyries in his hands as bodies began to fall like leaves in autumn. An arrow pierced his leg, a blade cut his hand but he didn't care. His forefathers were looking down upon him and he knew that there was no turning back. Several hours later Monterys hoisted the D'Haran banner atop the tower in Farrowfield. The battle was won and the mayhem that stood below was terrible. Pools of blood and hundreds of wounded abounded as the carrion birds began to circle around, looking for aperture to begin their feast. Gheric arrived, too, his armor dented in several spots and his cape truly red from the onslaught he survived. "The Farrowfields are yours, my friend." Monterys made a small bow but was quickly stopped by Gheric's firm hands that took him by the shoulders. "Farrowfields are ours, brother. Ours." he said with a relief as both of them, exhausted and tired, sat down and gazed into the western skies. The future looked bright from that tower and they felt like nothing could ever stand in their way.

Monterys Velaryon

Roleplay from Lyanna Arylon

Lyanna had been in Sirion City for days, attending to general matters of state. It was a cold winter night in Sirion, and Lyanna could see the snow gathering outside in the courtyard outside the window of her elegantly designed study. Sitting on the table next to the hearth was a letter bearing a wax seal with an intricate stamp -- the royal signet of Gheric Arylon, High King of the realm of Westgard. Her brother. It had been months since they had exchanged letters. Lyanna had received this letter from her brother a week ago, but she was too nervous to open it, due to the contents of the last letter she had sent him. In it, she had noted the election of Monterys Velaryon as Prime Minister of Sirion, and she had asked Gheric of his opinion of this man with whom he had served in a realm half a world away. In their youth, he was always so adept at reading her moods and understanding what she was thinking. He would know... know that she was in love with Monterys. She had become immediately enamored with Monterys upon his arrival in Sirion. A rugged, handsome, dashing and adventurous man, he exuded a confidence, quality and sophistication that stood in stark contrast to the vapid, aristocratic children that seemed to frequent the Sirion court. He was charming and treated her with kindness, but also spoke to her as an equal. Her feelings for him were... substantial. To hell with him, she thought. If I intend to pursue Monterys that is my business. Not his. Angrily, she stormed over to the letter and grabbed a knife, slicing open the wax seal. Unrolling the parchment, she looked upon the dark ink written in the hand of her brother. Dearest Lyanna -- I am pleased to hear that you continue to prosper in Sirion, though I am disappointed that you have decided to give up your role in government. I hope that you at least consider seeking the office of Chief Justice, instead. While I'm sure you have managed the realm's finances well, your sense of justice and knowledge of the law is perhaps your greatest gift. Now, as to your question about your new Prime Minister, Monterys Velaryon... I have no brother by blood, Lyanna, as you well know. But Monterys Velaryon, regardless of his parentage, is now and will forever be considered my brother -- a brother forged in the fire of conflict. When I was crowned as High King, Westgard was in shambles. Our regions were crumbling, our territory was shrinking, and our military prospects were fading. Peace was impossible. I needed to find a way to recapture the initiative and press forward with the war, and give my people a remarkable victory. Restoring hope, and putting pressure on the Goldorans with a stunningly successful military campaign would be the only way to have the leverage necessary to end the war. In that moment of need, I found Monterys Velaryon. Serving as General of D'Hara, he and I worked together to develop a strategy to defend Golden Farrow from an overwhelming force, and then press forward to take the surrounding town of Farrowfield. Our plan was audacious. It was insane. It was probably impossible. Yet Monterys' bravery and his certainty of our success spurred me on. We marched together, with me personally leading the armies of Westgard, and he D'Hara. We stood shoulder to shoulder and fought together as brutal savagery took place around us. He saved my life. I saved his. At several points in the battle, it was only his composure and dedication to pressing forward that prevented calamity. In the end, we emerged with the exact victory I needed, and then followed it up by a stunning attack on Farrowfield, achieving my goal of taking the town. If not for him, I could not have created the Golden Farrow Accords, and ended the war. If not for him, Westgard would have evaporated from the pages of history. If not for him, I would be a beggar King. After the war, he decided to join me in rebuilding my broken kingdom, and came to Westgard to serve as my Lord Commander. Together, he and I pushed back against the nightmares in the west, and forged the largest and most prosperous territorial holding in my Kingdom's long history. I know what it is you are asking of me, darling sister. The answer from me is yes. I do approve. There is no better man that I have ever known than Monterys, and if it is your intention to join his family to ours, I will be able to call him brother in law, and not just by convention. You could not have made a better choice. I hope for your continued success, and give my former Lord Commander my best when you see him. Love to you always, Gheric. Lyanna smiled, a tear in her eye. He approved.

Lyanna Arylon

Roleplay from Lyanna Arylon

Lyanna had been riding for hours, having departed from Sirion under cover of darkness. She wasn't trying to hide her exit, she simply knew the journey ahead of her was long, and she didn't want to delay its beginning. She was well guarded by a host of 50 men at arms -- some of the most deadly archers that Sirion could train -- and felt no danger in traveling by night. She would not sleep, continue traveling until the following evening, then finally set up camp outside Tabost and rest. It was a barren region of badlands, but they would be able to camp rather easily there. Now, though, it was late afternoon, and she was in pain from riding so long without a break. She held up her hand to Captain Julorina, ordering the men to stop. With a look and a nod, her soldiers understood that she was commanding them to break for a rest. Lyanna swung her leg over the saddle, and dismounted, immediately feeling a rush of energy from being able to stretch her muscles. She then reached into her saddlebag, and withdrew some food she had taken for the journey. It was time for a late afternoon lunch. The journey to the great city of Perdan was long indeed, and she would be traveling for days still. There would need to be many more opportunities to stop and rest... she needed to remind herself of that. Her stubborn mind always tried to endure long rides, viewing the experience as almost a test of willpower, rather than sensibly resting and not taxing herself without cause. She had been better lately, as she had grown and matured, governing her impatience. But in this case, the mission that had been given to her by the Prime Minister was one she was eager for. Alyssa Kingsley was now Queen of Perdan. Alyssa Kingsley, her greatest and most unlikely friend. Now that she was ruling Perdan, Lyanna had real hopes that the enmity that had existed between Sirion and Perdan for generations could finally be eliminated, and a new relationship could begin. Queen Alyssa was the most honorable, noble soul she had ever encountered, and her elevation meant real hope. As she ripped some bread in her hands, she began to wander a bit. The town of Trinbar was still visible in the distance, with her and her men only passing it an hour ago. As they had passed through, she was actually approached by a messenger that had frantically been searching for her, and he delivered to her a letter. Once again, there was a royal seal stamped into the wax. Her brother had written to her once again. She had replied to Gheric, the High King of Westgard after his unexpected message to her expressing his support for her desire to pursue Monterys. She had thanked him, and now feeling more comfortable expressing herself, she asked Gheric to tell her more about this man... this enigma that she was so fascinated with. She hadn't opened the letter right away, but finally given a moment of rest on her ride, she decided that now was the time to read it.

Lyanna Arylon

Roleplay from Lyanna Arylon

She took it out of her pocket, broke the seal, unrolled the parchment and began reading: Dearest sister -- It pleases me that I was right in my assumption as to your intentions with Monterys. As such, I am happy to answer your request for more from me about the man, and indeed he is so humble and without ego that I doubt you would hear him tell any of these stories himself. Perhaps the thing that drew me so close to Monterys, Lyanna, was the man's loyalty. I have already told you of his prowess on the battlefield, of course, but some of that prowess was only necessary because he was so dedicated to protecting me. On the second full day of fighting in the Farrowfields, he and I led a joint assault against a massive Goldoran host of elite troops -- some of their finest. I, as you know, have always believed in leading from the front, so as my soldiers charged, I charged with them and quickly found myself in the thick of the fighting. Monterys, of course, did the same. The ebb and flow of the battle meant we pushed forward, and were pushed back many times over several hours. I, however, at one point believing that I saw a hole in the Goldoran lines foolishly ordered a charge of my men into what I quickly realized was a trap. Greybrook's troops closed a pincer on me, and almost immediately much of my guard was cut down. There was one moment where I was alone in a circle, trying to survive an attack of four knights. I could not have survived long. Monterys, far from me and in the middle of his own (far more successful) melee, saw me and saw the danger, far before anyone else did. I could hear him shouting at his men almost immediately to abandon their operation, and follow him as they rallied to my side. Few were able to come, and none could keep up with him as he charged across the field. He crashed into two of my attackers like a thunderclap, and immediately slew one of them. He then put himself between me an the other assailants, snarling at them with a ferocity... Lyanna, I have never seen anything like it. I saw fear -- fear! -- in the eyes of the men who had been attacking me. They still outnumbered us, and they were not as tired or as worn as we were. But they feared him. Somehow... they knew their lives were about to end. Together we charged them, Lyanna. Side by side we fought. But as much as I would like to tell you of my own heroism in that moment, the truth was that I was nothing compared to this man. He cut through one enemy after another as though his sword was slicing through water. I took my share of them with me too, of course, but it is without question that I would be dead without his bravery. Our position was quickly overrun, despite his efforts, and as we saw the soldiers crashing toward us, he grabbed me, looked me in the eyes, and screamed at me to get on the horse of a fallen cavalry soldier nearby, and ride back to the Westgard lines. I protested, unwilling to leave him there, but he took me by surprise and smashed me in the head with the butt of his sword, disorienting me and nearly knocking me out. As I began to recover, I realized that he had hauled me on top of the horse, and as I shouted the word, "No!" at him, he slapped the horse and sent it running off in the direction of the armies of the Emerald Shield. He would not let me stay. He attacked a King, to save a king. How Monterys survived that onslaught, I do not know. My vision was hazy at that point and I can only assume his men arrived and carried him out in much the same way. But your brother lives today, Lyanna, only because of the loyalty of one man, and that is Monterys. That loyalty went far beyond the battlefield. After achieving our stunning victory in Farrowfield, very few people -- particularly among our allies -- wanted to end the war. There was near universal opposition to my pursuit of peace, and the crafting of the Golden Farrow Accords. The D'Harans were especially skeptical. But it was Monterys, before anyone else, who stood up and expressed support for my vision. He lent me political cover when I needed it the most, and ensured that the others would take my plan seriously. He did it, I think, not because he believed in what I was doing, though he very well may have. He did it, because he was loyal to me. A loyalty I likely didn't deserve, but which I somehow owned none the less. Without that loyalty, the continent of Dwilight would likely still be in ashes, burning from a perpetual conflict with no end. So when you ask me, as you did in your letter, where my loyalty to him, and my opinion of him comes from, know that this is but one of hundreds of stories like this I could tell. Give him my best, darling sister. ~Gheric As she finished reading, a tear dropped from her face onto the bread she had forgotten to eat.

Lyanna Arylon