Great Council of 233 AL

[Lucius Malfoy]

It has been over a hundred years since such a council existed, when the Lords of the realm gathered to select the successor from House Targaryen to rule the Iron Throne. With the sudden passing of Maekar Targaryen on the field of battle, the Great Council of 133 AL was called to session. For since there was no successor named, it was the realm's power to name a successor. Among the claimants that stood were:

Aegon, son of Aerion, whose birth is shrouded in mystery, but is believed to have been born in Essos to an unknown mother when Aerion served in the Second Sons. Some speculate he is a bastard, but it has not been proven. However, the speculation could be used against his attempt to gain the Iron Throne.
Maester Aemon, third son of Maekar, who was sent to the Citadel by Daeron II, thinking there were too many claimants to the Iron Throne. Now currently known as Maester Aemon, he is still recognized as a claimant to the Iron Throne. His humble and wise demeanor makes him an ideal King, but as a Maester, he has forsaken his surname and become a member of the Citadel.
Aegon, fourth son of Maekar, whose is as humble as his older brother, Maester Aemon. Aegon is seen as an unlikely choice, but holds the strongest claim among the three Targaryens. He has already married and fathered three sons and a daughter, ensuring his line continues if he succeeds the throne.

Despite the four male contenders, there is a female choice, the daughter of Daeron the Drunkard, Daemoril. Though she is a woman of 18, the lords of the land have heard that she is an feeble-witted, a type of claimant that is not highly sought after. Though she is beautiful in appearance, given great care as a child growing up and a good education, her feeble nature makes her an unlikely choice.

Today, within the sacred walls of the Great Sept of Baelor, the lords gather to choose the successor among the three to Maekar's crown and the Iron Throne.

[Pontifex Maximus]

Prince Aegon Targaryen arrives at the Sept before the opening of proceedings, and takes a seat, just one among the high table that many more lords would soon join. The next several hours would determine not only his fate, but the course of the entire realm. The gravity of the moment could not be overstated, and although not nervous for his own sake, he held a silent prayer in his heart that whatever decision was made, it would not lead to war. A Targaryen war of succession always proved an especially bloody affair. Fire and Blood indeed, and plenty to go around if the bastard Aerion is granted honors above his base station...

He wore a simple silver circlet adorning his brow, and his short, silver hair hung loosely around his face. His deep, darting eyes were fixed upon the great doors of the Sept, taking note of who entered, their demeanor, and every other detail of note.

[Pinkerton]

Aemon arrived to the Great Sept of Baelor after a night of troubled sleep and heavy pondering. He was pale and his purple eyes looked tired,

He walked calmly towards the altar of the Father, where he prayed silently. He lit a candle and directed towards the high table that had been arranged for the Council, he sat near his brother but left a couple of empty chairs between them

He was dressed splendidly: a lilac silk tunic, black breeches, a leather belt with a silver buckle and a golden ring with a ruby in his right hand's middle finger. He had trimmed his beard and his long hair reached his shoulders

[Oznerol]

Serra of Lys arrives with her son. Both dressed in simple black robes, without any garments or jewels, as a symbol of mourn, while their cloth was rich silk and velvet. As always, they were escorted by two tall and imposing knights.

Serra notices the Princes, and approaches the elder one, Aemon she believes:

"My Prince Aemon, what a sorrowful day. I am Serra, daughter of Magister Daario Malladoris, of Lys, mother to Aegon"

She points the infant son, who was serious and calm.

-----------------------

Lord Tully, as Lord Paramount of the Realm, arrived to the Council, as it was his right to participate in the Royal election.

[Pinkerton]

Serra of Lys arrives with her son. Both dressed in simple black robes, without any garments or jewels, as a symbol of mourn, while their cloth was rich silk and velvet. As always, they were escorted by two tall and imposing knights.

Serra notices the Princes, and approaches the elder one, Aemon she believes:

"My Prince Aemon, what a sorrowful day. I am Serra, daughter of Magister Daario Malladoris, of Lys, mother to Aegon"

She points the infant son, who was serious and calm.

I can see that

Aemon gritted his teeth. He had hoped she didn't showed up

You were present yesterday at the funeral, why?

[Oznerol]

I can see that

Aemon gritted his teeth. He had hoped she didn't showed up

You were present yesterday at the funeral, why?

"I had to show my respect and mourning to your noble and royal father. You know Aerion was afected by a kind of folly and madness, dangerous sometimes, but he still respected and loved his father"

"And because I wanted to introduce my son to the Realm as well, Prince Aemon"

Points to the little Aegon.

[Pinkerton]

"I had to show my respect and mourning to your noble and royal father. You know Aerion was afected by a kind of folly and madness, dangerous sometimes, but he still respected and loved his father"

"And because I wanted to introduce my son to the Realm as well, Prince Aemon"

Points to the little Aegon.

Aemon nodded slowly. He was nervous

You should take a sit, it shouldn't be long before the Council starts

[Oznerol]

Aemon nodded slowly. He was nervous

You should take a sit, it shouldn't be long before the Council starts

"May I sit nex to you, my Prince Aemon?"

Serra bows politely.

Aegon is too young, and I'm a foreigner. But maybe Aemon is a wise choice... I think he is what these westerosi name "master", or "maester", his chain proves it. Would he be willing to act as my son's sole regent? He is the eldest grandson of the dead King, such he is the first in line for the throne. If I join forces with this Prince, this maester, I may succeed.

[jacb547]

Lord Stark arrives for the council dressed in grey this time, his shoulders are adorned with his fur cape and the direwolf sigil is sewn on his clothes. Torrhen seats next to Lord Tully his newfound ally This will be interesting ​he muses quietly.

[Oznerol]

Lord Stark arrives for the council dressed in grey this time, his shoulders are adorned with his fur cape and the direwolf sigil is sewn on his clothes. Torrhen seats next to Lord Tully his newfound ally This will be interesting ​he muses quietly.

Lord Edmund wears a long cloack, crinsom, lined with armine, a silver trout as brooch. His duoblet is deep blue, made from thick velvet. He turns to face Stark:

"Good morning my Lord Stark. I'm curious about what this turns into. We have not had a Council like this like the Dance of Dragons, and the outcome was disastrous"

[jacb547]

Lord Stark nodded to Tully "Good morning Lord Tully. Indeed, at least this time there are no dragons around." He gave a quiet chuckle, which sounded very strange seeing how grim he usually was, perhaps marrying his son off had improved his mood.

[Oznerol]

Lord Stark nodded to Tully "Good morning Lord Tully. Indeed, at least this time there are no dragons around." He gave a quiet chuckle, which sounded very strange seeing how grim he usually was, perhaps marrying his son off had improved his mood.

This time was Tully the grim one, even if he smiled politely.

"But there is still dangerous, remember Blackfyre uprising, how grievous was, and how many blood was split then. But, thanks Gods, the Old and the New, that Dragons died with the Dragonbane and we got rid of their menace"

"However now we have the chance of choosing the most worthy candidate for the Crown, and not be influenced by the decision of the former King, like Unworthy and Daemon. Seemingly we have three candidates... what do you think my Lord Stark?"

[jacb547]

Lord Stark's good mood vanishes in the blink of an eye, his face now becoming grim once again, he had hoped blood would not be spilled but Tully's words did nothing to increase that hope. "Yes I hope such a council will prevent a civil war. As for the candidates, Aemon is the wisest and would surely make a good King however I do not know if anyone can abandon Maestery. The youngest Aegon has the best claim, if his legitmacy and sanity are proved, the young girl is dim witted and would not make a good Queen. As for Aegon, son of Maekar, he is ambitious and I am sure has already made some friends among the powerfull I fear if he is not the one elected he might come to blows with the new King."

[Oznerol]

Lord Stark's good mood vanishes in the blink of an eye, his face now becoming grim once again, he had hoped blood would not be spilled but Tully's words did nothing to increase that hope. "Yes I hope such a council will prevent a civil war. As for the candidates, Aemon is the wisest and would surely make a good King however I do not know if anyone can abandon Maestery. The youngest Aegon has the best claim, if his legitmacy and sanity are proved, the young girl is dim witted and would not make a good Queen. As for Aegon, son of Maekar, he is ambitious and I am sure has already made some friends among the powerfull I fear if he is not the one elected he might come to blows with the new King."

"I hope we will avoid such a fate, my dear Lord"

"Aemon would make a fine King, if we want to avoid war a wise, a scholar King, is the answer. We shall remember the greatest Kings of his line, like Jaehaerys or the very Daeron II. However as you say, by birthright the throne is for the little Targaryen, while Aegon is fairly promising, and he has surely made friend in his father's funeral"

"But we shall rejoice that we have the chance of electing the most fitting candidate and that our houses are joined by blood. There is no place for grim thoughts"

He smiles, trying to wipe the troubled clouds of his mind.

[Honors Bastion]

Lord Tommen Lannister arrived into the Great Sept of Baelor the Blessed dressed in yellow with the sigil of House Lannister, a golden Lion upon a Crimson field, displayed on his chest. He nodded to Prince Aegon and the other Lord Paramounts who were in attendance before he took his seat.

[jacb547]

Lord Stark's face was still grim althought the corner of a smile seemed to be sneaking in. "Aye, let us trust in the wisdow of the realm so we may elect a good and peacefull King. I look forward to the marriage once this sorry affair is done."

[Oznerol]

Lord Stark's face was still grim althought the corner of a smile seemed to be sneaking in. "Aye, let us trust in the wisdow of the realm so we may elect a good and peacefull King. I look forward to the marriage once this sorry affair is done."

"Yes, indeed. As soon as posible my Lord. Let's hope this affair will be solved successfully, and quickly"

Lord Tommen Lannister arrived into the Great Sept of Baelor the Blessed dressed in yellow with the sigil of House Lannister, a golden Lion upon a Crimson field, displayed on his chest. He nodded to Prince Aegon and the other Lord Paramounts who were in attendance before he took his seat.

"My Lord Lannister, regards, and good morning"

"Would you take a sit with us, my dear Lord Tommen?"

[Xion]

Princess Lucia Martell arrives at the Great Sept, stopping outside for a moment to think on what is about to occur before entering. Wearing a Dornish dress of dark crimson, orange, and silver in coloration, she politely nods to the royals and Lord Paramounts before taking her seat.

[Pontifex Maximus]

Aegon took his seat, surveying those who entered, making eye contact with each. He offered TOmmen Lannister a nod of greeting, but he did not leave the table. He waited the lords and ladies to join him at the table to begin the grim business. He hoped that it would remain a civil discussion, but he eyed the whore from Lys with a growing sense of loathing. In a way he was torn between outrage that such a woman would presume to come here to push forward her bastard son's claim, but on the other hand her presence here would do more harm than good. It was a physical manifestation of his rival's low birth, and how an infiltration of foreigners would follow his ascension.

[Lucius Malfoy]

Aegon took his seat, surveying those who entered, making eye contact with each. He offered TOmmen Lannister a nod of greeting, but he did not leave the table. He waited the lords and ladies to join him at the table to begin the grim business. He hoped that it would remain a civil discussion, but he eyed the whore from Lys with a growing sense of loathing. In a way he was torn between outrage that such a woman would presume to come here to push forward her bastard son's claim, but on the other hand her presence here would do more harm than good. It was a physical manifestation of his rival's low birth, and how an infiltration of foreigners would follow his ascension.

A shadow appears behind Aegon, leaning down the shadow revealed to be the person of Ser Duncan the Tall. He pauses, looking at the foreigner among the many assembled Lords of the realm. He keeps his voice low.

Further proof that Aegon was a bastard, wouldn't you agree, My Prince? Aerion bedding with a Lysene? I know your father would have never allowed that.