Preparations I
Orys
6000 foot soldier, 2000 cavalry, 800 scorpions, ballistas and catapults and two men for every one of them. Add the support of House Valeryon and the servants, who could take up arms if the occasion arose, and you are looking at roughly 11 000 men maybe 12 000 if stretched to their ends. It certainly wasn't a small army but it was far from enough to conquer seven kingdoms much less make their kings bend the knee and pledge fealty.
Orys however was more than pleased "We've prepared for years, our men can fight with the strength of 2 regular soldiers and besides...Aegon wouldn't rely on them much anyway, his strength lye elsewhere" - he said to himself as a laugh of pride suddenly escaped his from his mouth as if held there for years, anticipating the right moment to show itself.
Orys gazed up from the field on which he was standing and saw the monstrous castle of Dragonstone, made of smooth black stone and with multiple black dragons decorating it's walls the castle was the seat of House Targaryen for over 100 years, but not for long.
The young general still remembered how he came he came here some 9 years ago. He lived in one of the 3 villages on the isle, his mother Sheira would always tell him of the great castle and how his father was the lord there and Orys was his son, though not a legitimate one. When she passed away Orys left for Dragonstone to find work, or a home or maybe even a father. Instead he found the gruelling and yet somehow monotonous work of sharpening the swords and cleaning the stables, he found the flea ridden bed in the stables covered in horse piss, and he found a whoremongering lord who had sired so many bastard all 3 of the villages on the isle probably came from his cock. But to call it all hell would be unfair for there were the kids, the lords kids, his legitimate ones:
Rhaenys - who was always jumping and playing in the stables and castle walls always looking for a way to cause trouble, but also gladly helping to repair it after she'd had her fun. She often followed Orys wherever he went like a beautiful silver haired shadow, and found it the most amusing thing in the world to pull at his hair when he least expected it. She was playful, mischievous, beautiful and far more intelligent than she seemed, Orys enjoyed having her around.
Visenya: an avid reader with a constant stern look on her face even when she attempts to be nice. She can almost always be found on the balcony of the library with a tome as thick as a castle wall in her hand, only coming into the courtyard to call her sister Rhaenys up for supper, or for her studies, or generally to tell her that her loudness interrupted her work. The two sisters were always like that bickering and naging at one another, then again what sisters don't. Visenya was an intelligent perfectionist, always expecting the best from anyone around her, needless to say Orys attempted to avoid her as much as he can.
But Aegon was the closest one to him of all: ever since his youth Aegon was ambitious often looking down from his room balcony at the courtyard with pride, but never in a condescending manner. One day as he was looking down from his balcony the young lordling locked eyes with Orys, both of the boys staring into each other with curiosity. That same day Aegon for the first time came down to the stables to meet with Orys. The two boys began conversing with one another, neither of them remember what this conversation was about, but after a while the two of them met up more and more often and in a week they were training together in the forest nearby with makeshift swords the blacksmith made for them when he was drunk. To Orys Aegon was more than just a friend or even a brother, he was a template an example of what he can be if he was ambitious enough.
And ambitious he was, at 13 he joined the castle guard and 14 he became captain and at 16 he became commander of all of the Targaryen forces, second only to his lord - brother Aegon.
Orys was snapped out of his happy reminiscence by the ear tearing roar of a dragon. He looked up and saw the dark silhouette of a dragon covering the field in its shadow, the same way as clouds covered the moon at night. He saw the black scaled dragon land just a mile away from him on the shores of the island and the faint figure of a man with silver hair hop down from the dragon's neck to his neck and finally on the ground. Orys sighed a breath of assurance "I'll never get used to those flying fatherless birds" - he thought to himself as he went to greet his brother, his friend, his lord and soon enough… his king.