Closed starter || @longmayshereign-cersei
░▒▌╳▐ ᴅ ʀ ᴀ ɢ ᴏ ɴ ʟ ᴏ ʀ ᴅ
AFTER CENTURIES HAVING transpired since the Doom, since the whole of the known world thought the glory of Valyria was destroyed in a single day and night by fire; the truth is finally revealed. A great part of the civilization was lost, of course, but thanks to their prowess in magic and sorcery, there were those who survived, the generations thriving from them into the present times. Isolation and secrecy protected them but once the bleeding star was sighted in the skies, and dragons brought their own magic back into the world; everything changed. Some of the many eggs that by now have been considered stone, hatched, and one of them was to a young lord of an old noble house of valyrian dragonlords—A beautiful winged beast of crimson and golden sheen to its wings that he named Azaes ( after one of the many valyrian deities ). All around the world, from east to west, many wanted to bare witness to the survival of the greatest civilization following the peoples of the Great Empire of the Dawn; even the westerosi Seven Kingdoms.
An envoy was sent, taking a whole month to arrive but the initial meetings proved to be quite promising to the Freehold, so much so that ruling families decided to send one of their own across the Narrow Sea. His dragon now being large and strong enough to ride, and having learned to do so recently, Vaedar ventured west. He stopped on port city of Volantis, then on Lys and Tyrosh before crossing and reaching Blackwater's Bay, where the capital city of the Seven Kingdoms awaited. King's Landing was large and populated, the man could see as he had Azaes circle high above it before descending onto the large space of the inner courtyard of the Red Keep. The arrival of the valyrian lord was expected so it was not surprising when men gathered quickly to behold the sight of the dragon and its rider.
Gracefully, the silver-gold haired man climbs down once having landed, his winged mount releasing a heated huff of breath that could be felt by all those close enough. Resting a hand on his large snout, he murmurs some words that seem to have the dragon take a more indifferent demeanor at all the eyes staring. Turning, Vaedar's violet gaze is on an approaching woman with short, golden hair and eyes that remind him of emeralds—Knowing she must be the Lannister woman who seeks to ally the Iron Throne to the resurfaced Freehold.
❝ Your Grace, ❞ he bows as must be expected as a show of respect, a practiced but no less charming smile curving his lips.
