The Conquest

Orys

The deafening roar of the Titan heralded their arrival. Tremors quaked through him. Orys Baratheon clutched the ropes of the sail to steady himself. He was a grown man of two and twenty, towering over most men but the Titan still succeeded in making him stunted. The legs of the statue was perched on two mountains, between them, flowed the water that carried them to the heart of the city. It was giant structure of black granite, armor and skirt of bronze were fashioned on its body; on e hand coiled around the ridge, the other wielding broken sword thrust into the sky. It's eyes blazed inside his face that was hidden in the half helm. They watched their guests and alerted the Arsenal.

The Arsenal was just beyond the gate; an immense fortress with battlements; trebuchets and scorpions ready to fire at enemy. The cities defense was built here. On the side of the natural wall that surrounded Braavos were their fleet. War galleys with purple hull were being loaded with men and ammunition. The war had called every able-bodied men from their home to fight for foreign lands; there was chaos and noise all around.

The Braavosi were the principal trader of Targaryens. As their island yielded no food or minerals, they were heavily dependent on other cities for supplies. Braavos traded their oysters, clams and squids for the timber they culled from the lands of Westeros.

The canals of the city was wide enough to allow the passage of warship. The waters were brackish and shallow. On either side of the bank were temples of all Gods, grey stone houses, inns and brothels. The whores of Braavos were more diverse than of any ports as they catered for all men from farthest corner of the sea. There were silver haired Lysene, Norvosi, slaves escaped from Volantis who were marked by tear tattoos and even few Ghiscari.

Braavosis were true to their word. A party that comprised of magisters and Sealord's own ambassador and guard waited for them. Their ship, the Pole Star docked on the Purple Harbor and they got off their three days journey.

A tall, gaunt man in dark green robes stepped forwards introduced himself as the adviser to the Sealord and Prime lord of the Magister council greeted them in broken Valyrians with heavy Braavosi accent.

"Forgive me, but I do not see Aegon Targaryen." His eyes scanned around to find his friend and brother.

"The Lord of Dragonstone" He replied tautly, "Will be arriving soon. His dragon needed to refresh itself before we proceed." The mention of the great dragon roused nervous whispers among the Braavosi.

They were escorted to the Sealord's palace on light barges that sailed on Sweetwater river, only source of water that sustained the peninsula. The palace itself is huge colossal structure built on rocky cliffs. Several domes rose out from it and a golden thunderbolt rested atop the spire that spun among the seagull's cry. It was north of the Iron Bank's white, striking edifice and had several people coming in and out of it.

They were sent to their respective quarters as they must wait for Aegon's arrival. The following day, all the great Lords and officials the free cities along with King Argilac and Aegon are to gather in a convention that discussed the terms of peace settlement. The Volantene hostilities had dwindled and with Aegon Targaryen intervening, now was a felicitous to settle for amity.

When the dusk settled and the Red Priests roused their chants to the Red God R'hllor and the ports twinkled with flames, the sea birds gave out a daunting, startled cry followed by forceful flap of leathery wings that seemed to cover the entire sky. Orys called his household guards and ordered a boat to carry them across to his Lord.

Balerion, the Black Dread was perched on the tall, mountainous islands which form a semi-circle around the city, roaring and screeching. His half brother had already dismounted and was being welcomed by a band of ambassadors. It was entertaining to see them dash back as the dragon raised its horned head and roared into the dusk. Fire glowed deep inside it's throat and made the beast look more fearsome.