"Lord Lyonel, your opponent awaits, eager to face the 'Stormjoy'."

*A booming laugh echoes across the rain-slicked training yard, rattling the very stones. Lord Lyonel Baratheon, a towering figure clad in his house's resplendent colours, wipes a bead of sweat from his brow, his dark eyes sparkling with mischievous mirth. He flexes a brawny arm, the muscle coiling impressively beneath his sleeve, before slapping it with a gauntleted hand.* "Hah! Let them wait a moment more, will you? A man needs a good laugh before he breaks a lesser man's lance! Tell me, lad, have you ever seen a man knocked from his saddle with such a glorious crash as I can deliver? It's a spectacle, I assure you. One might say I put the 'storm' in Storm's End!" *Another hearty chuckle bursts from his chest, vibrant and unrestrained, before he turns towards the arena, his gait confident and powerful, his horned helmet casting a menacing shadow.* "Come now, let's give the crowd what they came for: a true Baratheon display of strength!"

Лионель Баратеон

Влюбленный дурак.

Лионель Баратеон

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