Sunspear, capital of Dorne

[Dirty Chai]

If you travel along the Greenblood past the shanty Plankytown, or sail down south along the arid eastern beachheads, a looming point will arise on your horizon. The tip is as a spear, gilded in the Dornish sun. It grows and grows as you near, shaping into a fortress and then a city beneath it, crafted of mudbrick and sandstone and alabaster, hazy in the distance like a mirage.

This is Sunspear. The fortress is ancient, and glitters under the sky - ancient poets say that it mirrors the stars at night, each palace a sister to a star above. Beneath the acropolis where the Martells rule, lay the shadow city, which hides beneath the former's cast shade and huddles together, as if to ignore the sun by turning one's head away from it. Streets and allyways are covered by overhanging awnings and balconies, or even towering upper floors nearly crossing the road and meeting like an arch above.

The acropolis is steep, but like a plateau at the summit, and well watered and aired out - with canals running underneath and through the rock itself, beneath the castle and its palace wings. Three-fold walls guard the ascent, famous for their winding shapes as a mechanism against assault, and within, two ancient & separate palaces share the plateau: the Old Palace, and the Sandship. The former was built after the arrival of the Rhoynar, while the latter predated them, being the original home of the Andal Martells. Besides them, there is the Spear Tower and the Sun Tower. The former rises above the Sandship and holds noble prisoners. The latter, the Tower of the Sun, rises high and wide from the center of the Old Palace, and is the seat of the Martell rule and the political center of Dorne. There is said to be two thrones there, one with the Martell spear inlaid in gold upon its back, the other bearing the blazing Rhoynish sun.

Ruler: Doran Martell

House Martell:
- Doran Martell, aged 23 in 270 AC
- Elia Martell, aged 14 in 270 AC
- Oberyn Martell, aged 13 in 270 AC

Regional Bonuses

• The Spear Tower: A huge stone tower, with a spear of gilded steel at its top, the Spear Tower is the tallest building in Sunspear, and the upper floors serve as prisons for any highborn captives. The prisoners are generally well treated, but escape is extremely difficult, as the height of the tower means any attempting to leave must fight their way down the entire tower. -2 to all escape rolls from Sunspear.

• Triple Walls: Sunspear is protected by three great winding walls encircling one another, dating well before the times of the Targaryens. The only way to enter the city is through the Threefold Gate, a trio of gates, one in each of the three walls that line up with one another allowing straight access to the city. In addition, Sunspear is surrounded by the sea on three sides, meaning it can only be attacked from one direction, giving it excellent natural defenses, the attacker must break through each of the gates before they can enter the city via that method (counted as one roll per each gate)

Defenses

Total Siege Modifier: +11 to defender rolls
Regional Bonus: Because Sunspear is surrounded by sea and water on three sides, it can only be attacked from one direction, and through that direction it has three layers of walls called the Threefold Gate and the Winding Walls; attackers of Sunspear must take 3 gates, in succession one after the other, to get into the castle. Each wall currently has the +11 modifier of the whole castle.

Holdfast Building: Once the three walls are taken, finally there is the inner palaces, where the Tower of the Sun lies. It must be captured if one seeks to capture Sunspear fully. Will survive a six month siege (3.5 days) if the outer walls fall to attackers. Affected by the overall +11 siege defense modifier of the whole castle.

-----------------------------------------
Buildings: Tier III Holdfast
Regional Bonuses: 3 layers of walls
Base Level: Castle

Castles have the following attributes:
- Will last 1 year in a siege (1 RL week).
- Have a +8 roll to any Siege assault undertaken against them.
- Can hold their entire garrison plus 200% of the base Land Levy points of their province.

Garrison

Max Garrison Size: 16,500 points ([7,500x2]+1,500)
Base Garrison: 1,200 men (1,500 points)
+ 400 Light Infantry from Tier I City Watch Quarters

1,600 men (1,900 points)
- 200 Heavy Infantry (400 points)
- 900 Light Infantry (900 points)
- 200 Polearm Infantry (300 points)
- 300 Archers (300 points)

Infrastructure & Government of Sunspear

Buildings/Upgrades of

- III. Barracks: +2500 Militia points, 15% cheaper prof. hire
- III. Major Dockyard: +2250 Naval Militia points, +20% income, 15% cheaper naval hire
- I. City Watch Quarters: 400 Light Infantry permanently stationed in your home territory. Cannot be moved elsewhere.
- III. Holdfast: +3 Siege Defence Rolls

Edicts

n/a

Trade Treaties

Sunspear's resource: Superior Steeds
- no trade partners

Tax, Excise, & Census Survey

- 70,000 dragons in avg. land revenue from Sunspear
- 14,000 dragons in tax & tariff from the the Tier III Major Dockyard

Military of Sunspear

Levy

Status: Unraised
7,500 men (7,500 points)
- 5,625 Light Infantry (5,625 points)
- 1,875 Archers (1,875 points)

Upkeep when raised: 37,500

Militia

+2500 points from Tier III Barracks

Status: Unraised
900 men (2,500 points)
- 700 Heavy Cavalry (2,100 points)
- 200 Heavy Infantry (400 points)

Upkeep when raised: 4,200

Standing Forces

1,500 men (4,500 points)
- 1,500 Guardians of Sunspear (4,500 points)

Upkeep: 12,500

Navy

Naval Levy

35 ships (525 points)
- 35 Levy Ships (525 points)

Upkeep when raised: 2,625

Naval Militia

Status: Unraised

Sunspear
+2250 Naval points from Tier III Major Dockyard
45 ships (2,250 points)
- 45 Heavy Galleys (2,250 points)

Upkeep when raised: 4,500

Plankytown
58 ships (2,510 points)
- 35 Dromonds (1,050 points)
- 14 Heavy Galleys (700 points)
- 7 Dornish Dromonds (560 points)
- 2 Grand Warships (200 points)

Ghaston Grey
44 ships (2,000 points)
- 24 Dromonds (720 points)
- 12 Heavy Galleys (600 points)
- 6 Dornish Dromonds (480 points)
- 2 Grand Warships (200 points)

Naval Professionals

none

Upkeep: 0

[Dirty Chai]

In the Sunship there is a spacious sept, built by the Martells when they first built this fortress, thousands of years ago if the Citadel was correct.
It is spacious, but also narrow and of old, ancient construct. Arches above are of what might be considered blunt and simplistic make, and the small shrine had no hint of the later beauty of Dornish architecture - no wondrous pillars, no geometric designs upon the walls, no tiled coverings, no towering facades or stalactite work.

It was private, however. It achieved the sense of solitude, and the only wondrous things in the whole dome were statues of the seven. They were lit by candles, while the rest of the sept was usually shrouded in darkness. It was cool here too. Doran wondered where the draft came from. It smelled of sulphur, perhaps.

The young prince stood at the center of the room, staring over a man laid to rest. He was still of short stature, and so he had to step up onto the dais to look at his father's face. Upon the eyes rested flat stones pained with blue and teal eyes, widely considered disturbing but necessary.

Was one truly awake when in death? Was that their meaning? Doran did not know. He didn't care, for that matter.
At least his father's body had returned home. His uncle's hadn't. It wasn't any consolation.

The youth stood over his father's body for what seemed to him an eternity, before he heard footsteps behind, soft in the corridor. They stopped, just before entering. A lone chain chimed at the end.

"Maester Narin," Doran's own voice broke the swallowing silence of the sept. "What is it?"
"You must let him go, my prince. He must be buried."
Beren had sat upon that altar for two days now. The septons were beginning to get anxious.

Had he stood here for that long? No, he had left, he had slept, he remembered. It was all a blur, however.
Doran stepped back from the dais, his legs stirring from hours of stone-like stillness.

"He will not be buried," he declared across the sept, the servants and septons hiding in the shadows surely hearing his commands.
"He will be burned on the waters of the Greenblood."

There was no protest. Perhaps silently, but not aloud. Not to the young man who had lost his father and his uncle to death, and his mother to the gods. Not to such a young man who was now the ruler of Dorne.

[Oznerol]

Lord Dayne almost stormed into Sunspear with a company of riders. He requested an audience with whoever was in charge.

[Dirty Chai]

OOC: I'm sorry guys, I only had time to write a response to Oz, will respond to others later

Lord Dayne almost stormed into Sunspear with a company of riders. He requested an audience with whoever was in charge.

The lord is braced at the first of the Winding Walls, and the gate guards refuse him to pass through the other two gates with more than a couple guards, visibly angered by his method of approach.

After the hot-blood cools, the lord of Starfall is directed to the Tower of the Sun, the formal hearing hall of Sunspear. Lord Dayne then waits in the hall, where two empty thrones sit, one with a spear and one with a sun. A short while passed before a young man of fifteen years walks out and stands before the thrones, considering which to sit in.

He decides neither, and turns to face the lord, standing in front of the thrones. Nearby was a maester, who followed in step with the youth out into the hall; he crossed his hands into his sleeves and watched the boy and the lord with patient, unassuming eyes.

"Lord Dayne," the young Martell greets with a trained formality. His voice was clearly hardening, he would be a man soon if not already.
Shoulders were widening. He was growing taller too. Dayne would not recognize the boy he had probably met years ago.

His eyes were his mother's though, a bright grey that observed your very being.

[Oznerol]

OOC: I'm sorry guys, I only had time to write a response to Oz, will respond to others later

The lord is braced at the first of the Winding Walls, and the gate guards refuse him to pass through the other two gates with more than a couple guards, visibly angered by his method of approach.

After the hot-blood cools, the lord of Starfall is directed to the Tower of the Sun, the formal hearing hall of Sunspear. Lord Dayne then waits in the hall, where two empty thrones sit, one with a spear and one with a sun. A short while passed before a young man of fifteen years walks out and stands before the thrones, considering which to sit in.

He decides neither, and turns to face the lord, standing in front of the thrones. Nearby was a maester, who followed in step with the youth out into the hall; he crossed his hands into his sleeves and watched the boy and the lord with patient, unassuming eyes.

"Lord Dayne," the young Martell greets with a trained formality. His voice was clearly hardening, he would be a man soon if not already.
Shoulders were widening. He was growing taller too. Dayne would not recognize the boy he had probably met years ago.

His eyes were his mother's though, a bright grey that observed your very being.

Lord Aron had protested for the treatment given in the gates but still decided to go on, so he left Davos, the Sword of the Morning, in charge of the horsemen while he rode to the fortified seat of Martell. Dayne approached the throne, a cold smile dancing on his lips, followed by a couple retainers wearing leather and light mail. The violet eyes, haunting, stare at Martell as he crosses the hall at good pace. The Lord was many years his senior, as old as Beren Sand as they were born around the same time. Lord Aron slightly bows before the throne, scantily looking at the maester.

"Prince Doran Martell, I presume"

He looks around with arms akimbo.

"I presumed that her highness the Princess would receive me. I was barred the entrance at the Water Gardens after I rode all the way from Yronwood..."

His voice was like honey, soft and baritone. However, it was cold, like a gauntlet clad in a silken glove. His violet eyes scan Doran from head to toe, carefully.

"I came to offer my condolences for Ser Beren's death in battle and offer my unwavering support to your mother"

[Dirty Chai]

Lord Aron had protested for the treatment given in the gates but still decided to go on, so he left Davos, the Sword of the Morning, in charge of the horsemen while he rode to the fortified seat of Martell. Dayne approached the throne, a cold smile dancing on his lips, followed by a couple retainers wearing leather and light mail. The violet eyes, haunting, stare at Martell as he crosses the hall at good pace. The Lord was many years his senior, as old as Beren Sand as they were born around the same time. Lord Aron slightly bows before the throne, scantily looking at the maester.

"Prince Doran Martell, I presume"

He looks around with arms akimbo.

"I presumed that her highness the Princess would receive me. I was barred the entrance at the Water Gardens after I rode all the way from Yronwood..."

His voice was like honey, soft and baritone. However, it was cold, like a gauntlet clad in a silken glove. His violet eyes scan Doran from head to toe, carefully.

"I came to offer my condolences for Ser Beren's death in battle and offer my unwavering support to your mother"

A gust blew in through the open doors of the tower which led out into balconies, filling the tower's hall with the smell of salt water. The prince's brown hair shifted with the wind, his locks dancing briefly. But he stood still, watching his guest. Perhaps that was out of training, education to becoming a prince. You had to grow up fast, in times like these.

"Your condolences are welcome, thank you, Lord Dayne." He wasn't sure of this one's first name, though he had probably heard it before on numerous occasions. Doran knew, of course, of the Daynes, one of Dorne's most powerful clans.

"My mother is," Doran balked, his eyes glanced at the floor. His jaw locked, for a moment. The maester watched him, patiently.
".. incapable of ruling, anymore." There was definitive tone to that statement, especially to its last word, that suggested the Prince hoped Dayne would not pry further.

A hooded figure, looking a bit like a hedgeknight with the grey, weathered cloak and the unshaven, silver-haired face below, requests in front of the palace guardians an audience with the Prince himself, declareing that he wishes to serve him. Though the mysterious warrior is pretty vague in terms of who he is, he solely shows the guards a silver coin from Lys, telling them that they should at least donate this one to the Prince, even if he would refuse to test the man in his skills and loyality. He came on horseback, even though the animal did not look like it ate too much for days, while the cloaked person neither seemed to be in a healthy condition.

There was much resistance to letting the man through the gates, but eventually he appeared in an entry hall of the Old Palace, guards on either side of him. A young man, not older than sixteen, stood before him, hands connected behind his back. A maester was behind the youth and the to left.

"I am the Prince," greeted the youth, looking the vagrant up and down. The Martell was dressed in loose trousers that were hemmed just before his feet appeared on the tiled floor beneath them. A silken tunic of reds and golds hung free just past his waist, unhindered by a belt, with a loose collar.

"Are you a hedge-knight? Why are you here?"

Having heard all sorts of rumours since the tragic Battle of Tumbleton, Arthur saw fit to return to his homeland to find out what was going on.

The journey to Sunspear was a calm one by sea. After his ship docked in the port, Arthur rode to the Old Palace and asked for an audience.

The Fowler is received, and after a short wait, is ushered into the presence of the Prince. To Arthur, that probably conjured images of Beren, but he was dead. Who ruled Dorne now, as a prince?

The merchant-man was led into a solar, on the far eastern wing over looking ocean, underneath the eastern balconies of the Tower of the Sun.
There was a table here, to the far left, adorned with the things you might expect. Some guards were in the room; excepting them, however, Arthur was left alone with Doran, who turned and faced him.

The Martell was almost a man now.
"Ser Arthur," he greeted, a small measure of happiness in his voice. "It is good to see you again, ser."

[Xion]

Lady Allyrion arrives outside the Threefold Gate with an escort of knights, and sends one of her men to request entry to Sunspear so the new ruler of Godsgrace can meet with the Prince of Dorne.

[Pinkerton]

The Fowler is received, and after a short wait, is ushered into the presence of the Prince. To Arthur, that probably conjured images of Beren, but he was dead. Who ruled Dorne now, as a prince?

The merchant-man was led into a solar, on the far eastern wing over looking ocean, underneath the eastern balconies of the Tower of the Sun.
There was a table here, to the far left, adorned with the things you might expect. Some guards were in the room; excepting them, however, Arthur was left alone with Doran, who turned and faced him.

The Martell was almost a man now.
"Ser Arthur," he greeted, a small measure of happiness in his voice. "It is good to see you again, ser."

Arthur's usually boring face show surprise when he saw the teen greeting him

"Prince Doran, you were a few inches shorter the last time I saw you."

The nobleman respectfully bowed before the Martell Prince

"It is nice to see you in good health. I worried for you after we parted ways in King's Landing."

[Lord Dread]

There was much resistance to letting the man through the gates, but eventually he appeared in an entry hall of the Old Palace, guards on either side of him. A young man, not older than sixteen, stood before him, hands connected behind his back. A maester was behind the youth and the to left.

"I am the Prince," greeted the youth, looking the vagrant up and down. The Martell was dressed in loose trousers that were hemmed just before his feet appeared on the tiled floor beneath them. A silken tunic of reds and golds hung free just past his waist, unhindered by a belt, with a loose collar.

"Are you a hedge-knight? Why are you here?"

"A knight?", the man in front first said as if he heard the word for the first time, but then he shook his head, still keeping his head lowered when meeting the Prince, "No, I'm sadly not a pureblood Westerosi, whom they trained to fight the old Andal ways, which some might call effective in Essos,
some others cowardly and savage,
while the wise men respect on open field the plated horsemen, who have the power to ride down any resistance, which can not pull a lucky strike against them."
The Lyseni made a small pause, revealing the face beneath the cloak, so that his appearence, which was partly Valyrian, partly from other cultures, would become more obvious.
"No, I'm solely Yros, a deserted sellsword from the Bands of the Nine", he continiued then, sounding kinda sad, "I know, it's nothing spectacular
and it's probably the worst idea I ever entered this palace to tell you these words, Young Prince,
but I seek for employment after I live for a year within these lands, keeping myself alive barely.
The horse I brought with me is stolen - probably from a man, who died at Wendwater. Well... so far nobody contacted me, but if he misses it, we could make an announcement - I'd pay him, though I spent yesterday the rest of my money in a tavern. While still being thirsty, as I sit in the streets and begged for money while amuseing people with my art of... well, pretending to be a Targaryen King. Whether it be Aerion Brightflame, Aerys II., Aegon V. or any they fancied, mainly the women, while the men solely wanted to wrestle me - I could kinda give them the joy, they wanted, while I had to be careful of not mocking the royal family too much - but well, I could save that part for Blackfyre mumming.
Heh, that's how desperated I am."
Again he made a pause, while looking up, now a bit more relaxed and kinda with a more joyful look.
"But don't worry, I'm not a beggar", he said after a while, "I worked in my past at a theatre in Lys, but I was employed for five years within the sellsword companies of Essos.
If you wondered why I dare to steal your time, Young Prince, it is solely to test myself whether I'm worth of the sword I still wear. I survived multiple fights with the Lyseni Swans, sailed for the Saan family on several encounters and survived at Wendwater twice against the King's forces and my former comrades, who mistook me for the Targaryen King in their bloodlust -
I say if I survive your trial, as there is no desire of mine to leave this beautiful country you rule, my Prince,
my sword and my unyielding loyality shall be yours.
By my gods, I promise this to you, as it shall be the first promise I wish to keep,
as there is nothing else left for me to give my exciteing life a better meaning."

[Lord Dread]

A hooded figure, looking a bit like a hedgeknight with the grey, weathered cloak and the unshaven, silver-haired face below, requests in front of the palace guardians an audience with the Prince himself, declareing that he wishes to serve him. Though the mysterious warrior is pretty vague in terms of who he is, he solely shows the guards a silver coin from Lys, telling them that they should at least donate this one to the Prince, even if he would refuse to test the man in his skills and loyality. He came on horseback, even though the animal did not look like it ate too much for days, while the cloaked person neither seemed to be in a healthy condition.

[Pinkerton]

Having heard all sorts of rumours since the tragic Battle of Tumbleton, Arthur saw fit to return to his homeland to find out what was going on.

The journey to Sunspear was a calm one by sea. After his ship docked in the port, Arthur rode to the Old Palace and asked for an audience.

[Oznerol]

Lord Dayne pretends to look sad.

"I mourn those unfortunate news, your Highness. Shall Gods look for her kind soul"

He looked at Dayne carefully.

"A burden which arrived too early. Your youth is both a blessing and a curse: with your parents missing you will need every help you can get, to guide you through the path of the righteous"

He smiled kindly. But his teeth were far too perfect and his haunting eyes didn't smile at all.

"The nobility of Dorne must stand next to his liege. With Lord Yronwood and Lord Allyrion dead, sadly, I come to your Highness to offer my assistance to rule this most noble Princedom"

[Oznerol]

"I can offer you a strong hand"

He gestured with his hands as he speaks.

"The gruesome defeat at Tumbleton has shown us that changes must be made"

He raised a finger.

"We cannot let ourselves be fooled by those on the Throne to join their wars without good reason. We bled for the throne, more than twice, my Prince. Fruitlessly"

Dayne looks at Doran.

"The nobility of Dorne must have a voice in the ruling of this realm, we owe you counsel and support and we are ready to pledge our service to you, my young liege"

His arms akimbo he speaks again:

"Being your mother still alive some could say you are not the rightful ruler... Maybe some will pretend to restore her and end your usurpation. Those are foolish thinking. I offer you my help to rule this Princedom, my liege and vanish all those daring lords who dare to think... poorly about the current state of things"

He smiles.

[Lord Dread]

"Aye", was the simple reply of the Lyseni, not sure how to feel about the answer, "I heard the Lords of Westeros do employ the best warriors within their ranks
and by my own experience, I would say to be one of them.
You are free to proof me wrong, your grace, by nothing mere than a simple test. In the best case, you'll see that I didn't lie about my abilities and in the other..."
He made a small pause, but smiled with a sad expression.
"Well, that ain't good for me, but I won't steal more of your precious time and your guards can show of why to respect their abilities in combat. Take my life, as it isn't worth anything - they wouldn't buy me for a silver coin at the Slaver's Bay, trust on that."

[Oznerol]

"You know what is right, Prince. To hear the counsel of you vassals, to follow their wise words, to get rid of ill-advisors. We, the lords of Dorne, appeal to your wisdom"

His gaze is unflinching.

"Lord Yronwood will be married to my daughter in a week. My brother-in-law, Lord Fowler, and almost all the Dornish nobility is expected to come. You are invited as well"

He plays with a ring on his right hand.

"We might discuss these affairs in a week from now, at Yronwood. I expect your Highness will have... a satisfactory answer by then"

[Dirty Chai]

Doran was too young to marry by traditional reckoning. He was still only growing. But a political marriage would be expedient.

"Yes, I-I.." Doran stuttered, hand reaching for the arm of his chair, "I think you are right about that."
He sat when he found it, looking downwards, his right hand resting in his lap upon his trousers.

The young prince considered that. He had to marry himself off to secure his own control. And it might come to no fruit, either.
He would be tied to another until one of them died. A sacred vow for a petty need. Hopefully she would not hate him, at least.

"Lord Dayne has threatened me," he finally let it out. He had no allies, no friends. Arthur wasn't one, either, but at least he had proven loyal over the years. He had saved Doran once, hadn't he? He could be trusted.

"He mentioned Yronwood, so I believe they are in league with him."

[Pinkerton]

Doran was too young to marry by traditional reckoning. He was still only growing. But a political marriage would be expedient.

"Yes, I-I.." Doran stuttered, hand reaching for the arm of his chair, "I think you are right about that."
He sat when he found it, looking downwards, his right hand resting in his lap upon his trousers.

The young prince considered that. He had to marry himself off to secure his own control. And it might come to no fruit, either.
He would be tied to another until one of them died. A sacred vow for a petty need. Hopefully she would not hate him, at least.

"Lord Dayne has threatened me," he finally let it out. He had no allies, no friends. Arthur wasn't one, either, but at least he had proven loyal over the years. He had saved Doran once, hadn't he? He could be trusted.

"He mentioned Yronwood, so I believe they are in league with him."

He wasn't surprised. The Highlords of the Boneway had always been ambitious

"Dangerous indeed. Yronwood commands a great deal of men and House Dayne does too.
That leaves you with fewer options. Allyrion, Uller or Toland. I am sure my brother will be at your side, considering our history with the Yronwoods. You must move fast, Doran. Your enemies won't wait."

Arthur thought of other options

"Is your sister still bethrothed to the Targaryen Prince? The Red Dragon commands respect, even if he is far away from Dorne."

[Dirty Chai]

He wasn't surprised. The Highlords of the Boneway had always been ambitious

"Dangerous indeed. Yronwood commands a great deal of men and House Dayne does too.
That leaves you with fewer options. Allyrion, Uller or Toland. I am sure my brother will be at your side, considering our history with the Yronwoods. You must move fast, Doran. Your enemies won't wait."

Arthur thought of other options

"Is your sister still bethrothed to the Targaryen Prince? The Red Dragon commands respect, even if he is far away from Dorne."

Doran nodded, agreeing with his old math tutor.

"I will send word to the capital, at least."

He paused, then turned back to face ser Fowler.
"Ser Fowler, the collateral for the loan is the lands of House Martell. Tell them that, when you sail to Braavos. Perhaps they will take me seriously then."

The three nobles nod and Lords Vaith and Ladybright bow and takes three steps back so their liege lady can discuss the second matter with the Prince.

Emphyria nods. "Excellent, I shall have the formal documents sent upon my return to Godsgrace." She then pauses for a second, and if she did notice the effect she was having on the Prince, she made no mention of it. "I think the variety of turquoise found in the mines of Godsgrace may match or exceed that of the mines of Ghost Hill, my prince. But besides the turquoise, we also have a few gold mines closer to the rivers and saffron."

Doran nodded with a polite smile. He was not this knowledgeable about turquoise.

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

Later, when Lady Allyrion had just departed Sunspear to return home, a rider rushes after them, explaining that Prince Doran would like to discuss political matters, back at Sunspear, if Lady Allyrion would acquiesce.

The man nodded with an amused smile, but didn't speak further, as he went towards his knees, awaiting his oath towards the Prince of Dorne or any other orders.
He was grateful enough to accept the offer as it was.

Doran was silent, surprised when the man went down on his knees. Glancing at the maester, he tried to remember a sacred oath. He failed.

"Do.. you swear by whatever gods you hold dear.." he started, pausing here and there to make up the words, "to protect and serve the House Martell until you are either slain or released of your oath?"

[Pinkerton]

Doran nodded, agreeing with his old math tutor.

"I will send word to the capital, at least."

He paused, then turned back to face ser Fowler.
"Ser Fowler, the collateral for the loan is the lands of House Martell. Tell them that, when you sail to Braavos. Perhaps they will take me seriously then."

Arthur nodded

"I will leave now, if you allow me, my prince."

OoC: How much dough do you need?

[Lord Dread]

Doran was silent, surprised when the man went down on his knees. Glancing at the maester, he tried to remember a sacred oath. He failed.

"Do.. you swear by whatever gods you hold dear.." he started, pausing here and there to make up the words, "to protect and serve the House Martell until you are either slain or released of your oath?"

"Aye, I swear it by those, who were old, when the world was young,
by the Weeping Lady of Lys, the Lovely among the Free Cities
and the Seven, as it is them, who are guiding the one, I seek to protect.
My sword is yours, Prince Doran Martell,
as I shall protect you and your family with all the powers I got bestowed upon me,
or find no peace, should I fail my holy oath.
I shall serve as your loyal subject and accept the sentence of death,
should I betray or ashame your House by my own deeds."