HIGHBORN, DAERON TARGARYEN

[attr="class","bioheader"]personality.

[attr="class,"bioentry"]The blood of dragons run hot, but their scales are cold to the touch. So it is with Daeron.
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Simmering rage lies thinly veiled in his features. Eyes burn endlessly red as if a fire without need for fuel. His features are hard, his skin far too weathered for forty years. His cheekbones are prominent, giving his eyes a sunken character.
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From a young age, the Prince had a fiery rage. He broke the noses of boys twice his size and wrested the great dogs his father owned. His fury was undirected, targeting all who stood in his path.
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With hopes of reforming the pugnacious prince, his father King Jaehaerys banished him to the Citadel for years of education and discipline. This approach instead only made a fearsome boy into a ferocious man. When he returned, Daeron was twice the size with twice the cunning.
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Although his rage is feared by all, it is rarely witnessed. The fear of a what such a man could do if angered has made would-be aggressors cower and defer. A look from the tallest Targaryen is usually sufficient to silence event the boldest of men. Or women.
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The secrecy of his private life and mysterious demeanor have inadvertently caused him to become quite famous in Westeros and beyond. Singers and mummers alike have taken great pleasure in telling stories about the "Dragon-lover" and the women who fainted just from a glance at the fire in his eyes.
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It is said the first woman to see him after returning from the Citadel was so taken she bed the prince the same night. Fate would have it one night gave Daeron a firstborn, Aerys. Most Targaryen lords would have abandoned the child or denied fathering the whelp, especially considering the questionable heritage of its mother, but the heir apparent to the Iron Throne considers the first of his seed to be sacred. Unlike his father, Daeron is determined to perpetuate the legacy of his line and rehabilitate the Targaryen name as one to be feared.
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From the ruins of Harrenhall, Daeron has spent the last two decades building an army to defend the Iron Throne. Distrustful of the fragile alliances holding together the Seven Kingdoms and disgusted with his father's childish optimism, the Crown Prince sees himself as the only Targaryen capable of ensuring the future of the bloodline.

[attr="class","bioheader"]history.

[attr="class,"bioentry"]"The end of suffering." Surely, his father's gods had a sense of humor.
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The quiet words of the frail old priest were nearly lost to their own dissonant echoes, reverberating high among the sept's stone ramparts. Confused noise returned to the small crowd gathered below.
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His father might have been well-liked, but a peacetime leader is easily forgotten, Daeron reflected. Empty seats surrounded him, as they had for every public assembly since his childhood.
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People spoke of a time when peace was still new when Aegon V commanded great audiences from the steps of the Red Keep. Now his grandfather was a true king, never satisfied with the empty achievement of peace. He had expanded the reach of the Kingdoms and hunted his enemies to the ends of the earth, but eventually, there were no enemies left to fight.
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Men go mad when kept from war too long. Thus had been true of Aegon.
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But Jaehaerys was no man. Sickly and meek, his father's cowardice ensured a longer life than anyone could have predicted. Though, not as long as it could have been, Daeron thought, smiling to himself.
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"The end of suffering." Again, the septon mumbled those words. The most triumphant speech of Jaehaerys had begun with those same words. Heralding what he called a "new age," the Meek King's first proclamation called for the end of violence and strife. Swords had been melted into nails and hinges, arrows broken and their tips hammered into coins. Soldiers were given work building roads and bridges for the Crown. Retired military officers were appointed to lead the new system of Elders which oversaw the "needs of the people."
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"What a load of shit."
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Daeron looked around the sparse audience and saw his father's true legacy. Lagasse, gluttony, and apathy had spread through the Seven Kingdoms like a plague. The nobility had become stupid and fat, the common folk even more so. The city walls were manned by a skeleton force of a hundred men, the great wall in the North by half that.
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Peace had made the people weak, and a weak man was easily frightened.
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Fingering the vial in his pocket, Daeron remembered the terror on his father's face before he died. Racked by relentless cramps and convulsions, nothing the Maesters gave him brought relief. Even sleep brought by the Milk of the Poppy was torturous for the old man. Under the mask of sleep, his face twisted and eyes flitted back and forth as if looking for an escape. But there was nowhere to flee for a man who fears death.
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As the last rites concluded and the congregation stood to leave, Daeron approached the altar upon which his father's ravaged body lay. The scarred and bitter son stood silently standing next to the body as the room emptied, ignoring the well-wishes of each noble as they passed. Even closest friends found little more than a dark glare from their new king.
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At long last, he was left alone in the empty sept. The distant toll of funeral bells was the only sound to penetrate the dark space. Their faint ring sounded somehow tired. Walking around the altar, Daeron traced the words engraved into the stone slab under which his father would be buried.
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"Fire and Blood"

[attr="class","bioheader"]inventory.

[attr="class,"bioentry"]VANGUARD (destrier) A great black beast given to Daeron by House Stark, the creature has deep scars across its flanks from a wolf attack near the Wall. It is said the horse has killed more men than half the knights in Westeros.
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TALON (Valyrian steel blade) Forged from Blackfyre, the long lost ancestral blade of House Targaryen. It was stolen by the Blackfyres during the rebellion, and returned as a term of their pardon by the Aegon V. Daeron keeps the sword close, as it is a crucial argument for his claim to the Iron Throne. Although only half of the steel in Blackfyre, the sword was forged with one sharp edge. Perfect for slashing from horseback, the light blade is also known to foes as the Thresher of Men. It sings a mournful tone as it harvests the flesh of men.
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FIRE IMMUNITY A secret known only to his now deceased father, Daeron was once found playing in a kitchen furnace as a baby. The crawling boy emerged from the oven naked and smiling, almost giving the old cook who found him a fatal fright. The cook was instructed never to speak of it, lest his own fire immunity be tested. To this day, Daeron has a normal fear of fire and is unaware of his ability.

[attr="class","bioline"]42

[attr="class","bioline"]Male

[attr="class","bioline"]Hetero

[attr="class","bioline"]6'3"

[attr="class","bioline"]180 lbs

[attr="class","bioline"]Highborn

[attr="class","bioline"]Motochika from Sengoku Basara

[attr="class","bioline"]MYTH

[attr="class","bioicon"]