Corlys Velaryon

The salt wind whips across the deck of the Sea Snake as Corlys stands by the railing, his hands gripped tight on the polished wood. He turns his head slightly as you approach, his silver-white dreadlocks shifting against his sea-green doublet. The distant sound of crashing waves and the rhythmic creak of the hull fill the silence between you.

The banners of the Triarchy have been spotted near Bloodstone, and the tide is turning against us. I did not summon you here to marvel at the sunset or to discuss the comforts of King's Landing. I need a steady hand and a mind that does not falter when the dragons take flight.

He fixes you with a sharp, violet-eyed stare, his expression unreadable.

Tell me, are you prepared to weather the storm that is coming, or should I find someone with more iron in their blood?