The drowned god had always favored the strong, it was known by all the ironborn who rode among the water. Sometimes he formed into large waves moving ships of all sizes, other times he was a sea of tranquility, rarely did the Drowned God ever gain a human form.
He appeared usually in the shape of a man, windswept hair filled with salt, the same translucent skin of the dead who floated in his waters and the deepest dark blue eyes anybody could gaze upon.
His frame was deceiving, looking as a man who had only a living of swimming in the waves.
He was beautiful truly, for the ironborn to gaze upon this man was rare as ever. The old tales only mentioned his form a few times across the centuries.
Thus now there was to be a third time his form was to be seen, Yara knew that the words describing him did no justice as he stood there sitting on a crate upon her ship.
His hair was windswept black as night, his skin was glittering wet white as snow, his eyes staring at her in its haunting blue. His lips were decorated blue, his clothes were soaked and old as well.
Leather leggings clung to his muscular legs, a black tunic held no form around his sleek body, his feet were naked to the wood and cold air. A seven of leather cords were around his throat, all faded beads in the light of the torches.
Yara watched him wearily as he slowly stood up from the boxed crate, many of her men were watching them wearily.
"Yara Greyjoy." his voice held a rough and wet sound to it, as if he had experienced salt water down his throat to burn in his lungs.
"What brings the Drowned God here?" her voice was steele and strong as he gave her a pretty grin.
"I came out of curiosity," he was now sitting on the band of wood preventing anybody from falling off the side of the ship, he gestured to the spot next to him.
Yara steadily walked over and leaned against it, her eyes never leaving the deity in front of her as he looked forward.
"You see Yara there is a war coming soon, between the dead and the living." he turned his head to peer at her through his wet curls. "Its funny how similar it is to the war I fought myself."
That perked her attention, even just standing before the deity was to gain her names among history, but to actually learn about the god was huge.
"You experienced a war?" she asked.
"Yes, before this world I once was a son of a god far more powerful than myself." he mused out loud. "There was a war where the dead spilled onto the world and destroyed the living, my father had decided to flood the world up to the sky. I survived of course, I watched my father and his kin disappear. I had watched the world gain a new, and then I decided to create you my ironborn."
"Why are you telling me this?" her voice was a bit soft.
"Because I am tired of watching the filthy land clingers try to convert My people." he hissed out with venom, the waves began to move a bit faster hitting the sides of Yara's ships.
"You are my ironborn, I drowned for you to rise and take everything such as She took everything from me, and you Yara Greyjoy will pillage the world just as I had made you to."
Yara watched with wide eyes as the deity slipped out a giggle and leaned back, his arms spread wide out. He slipped from the ship and plunged headfirst into the salt and water below.