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Post by GMS Freeman on Jul 1, 2021 12:59:20 GMT
[Go with Cassandra]
[Listen to their conversation]
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Post by InGenNateKenny on Jul 4, 2021 5:07:29 GMT
[Go with Cassandra] Sounds more interesting, more chances to interact with the queen.
[Take a few steps back to avoid listening] Being polite is always right!
I liked Rosby. Lot of character in the bit we had. It makes his motivations clear and relatable.
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Post by LiquidChicagoTed on Jul 12, 2021 23:33:46 GMT
[Go with Cassandra] I feel like this is the most interesting option here, going to watch the oath of fealty will definitely be more exciting than having a chat with Hemys and resting. If nothing else, there's bound to be some cool people around doing cool people things. [Listen to their conversation] Eh, why not. Ah, what I can say here is that both options will feature different storylines and different characters. Hemys' route shouldn't be boring either and there will be different characters with a chance to shine, whereas Cassandra's route will show characters who likewise won't be seen if Ellena goes with Hemys here (Aegon and some of his lords would be an obvious example here). One of these routes will even allow me to properly introduce a new character who otherwise wouldn't be seen at all in this chapter. More about that during the What If part at the end of the chapter, but both should come with their own storyline and consequences for the future.
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Post by LiquidChicagoTed on Jul 12, 2021 23:37:25 GMT
[Go with Hemys] [Listen to their conversation] Never pass up an opportunity to snoop, Drent. I really like Lord Rosby, hope we see more of him. You definitely will! While Rosby hasn't been featured in the story in any meaningful way since his PoV during the Book 1 epilogue, my plans include him as an important secondary character at Aegon's court and I definitely have a lot more in store for him. He should have an interesting dynamic with some of the other characters at court, such as Ellena, in the parts to come!
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Post by LiquidChicagoTed on Jul 12, 2021 23:38:12 GMT
[Go with Cassandra] Sounds more interesting, more chances to interact with the queen. [Take a few steps back to avoid listening] Being polite is always right! I liked Rosby. Lot of character in the bit we had. It makes his motivations clear and relatable. Glad to hear this! I never really delved into that, but a lot of details about him have been improvised by me while writing the Book 1 epilogue, making him a character I instantly felt a connection to and one whom I always wanted to show more about. This part finally gave me a chance to do so and I'm glad that it worked as intended. It'll build up his role in the future parts, as he'll be a constant presence at Aegon's court.
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Post by LiquidChicagoTed on Jul 13, 2021 18:19:30 GMT
The Voting is closed!
Ellena is going to go with Cassandra
Drent is going to listen to the conversation As I said above, Ellena's choice will basically lead to two different storylines for her in this chapter. Drent's choice won't be inconsequential either. There have been some developments in Storm's End while he was away and this choice will allow me to reveal them more directly. That doesn't mean it is a wise choice to spy on a conversation between two of the most infamously short-tempered people in Westeros, but Drent certainly knows the risks. The next part will be out today or very early tomorrow. Writing is going along nicely and I expect it to be done very soon. The next two PoV's couldn't be more different from each other geographically. The first PoV will be Raenna, who has just ventured beyond the Wall, the other will be Ysilla, who is currently in the mountains of Dorne, over a thousand miles south of the Wall. Raenna is currently undergoing an expedition to find Kory Umber, the missing brother of Lord Roffe Umber. Their only lead is a wildling raider named Markus Treearms, who had previously pretended to be Kory. He and the leader of his warband, the wildling spearwive Myrla are heading to meet up with their leader, the feared warchief Horik Half-Thenn. Raenna and her group, led by two brothers of the Night's Watch and the deserter Erik Flowers are now starting their dangerous journey to catch up with them. Meanwhile, Ysilla's part will start shortly after the Chapter 3 finale, dealing with the aftermath of Allar's death at the hands of Yoreen Flowers and at the plans Mullendore's bastard now has for her, for Theodan and Jen. I am excited to share the part with you and it should be done soon.
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Post by LiquidChicagoTed on Jul 15, 2021 0:44:16 GMT
Raenna Raenna did not know what to expect of the fabled lands that were waiting for her beyond the Wall. She had seen the warm sands of Dorne, the gentle plains of the Reach and the dramatic cliffs of the Vale, even the fields around Winterfell, covered entirely in short, brown grass, the ground hard from the cold. But the tales she had heard from those frost-haunted lands of the wildlings were tall and she could not even imagine anything like it. Mountains of ice, frozen crags where the sun never showed her face, wild, white plains where there was nothing but snow, where only the hardiest, most savage men could dwell. As such, it was a bit of a disappointment when she left the long, narrow tunnel beneath the Nightfort only to find herself in front of a forest, thick, vast and primordial, but fundamentally not that different from the Wolfswood, which she had seen on her way through the North. Once, as Saint Strad had told her, there had been so many sworn brothers of the Night's Watch that they had been able to cut down three miles of that forest, all the way from Eastwatch-by-the-Sea to the Shadow Tower, three miles times three hundred, ensuring that no raiding party of wildlings could ever creep up on the Seven Kingdoms. With their numbers dwindling, the Watch was barely able to maintain one mile between the Wall and the edge of the forest and there were patches where these ancient, stubborn trees had grown closer than that, with wildlings able to use it as cover until the last half mile. It was called the Haunted Forest, but Raenna was not easily frightened. The ghosts that would wait for them beneath those trees were of flesh and blood, men and women who had the misfortune of being born on the wrong side of the Wall. Dangerous, yes, but nothing she hadn't faced before. The cold, however... nothing could have prepared her for this. The North had been uncomfortably chilly, the Wall had sent shivers down her spine, but out here, crossing this mile between the sparse comforts of the Nightfort and the questionable protection those supposedly haunted trees would offer her, she truly understood what the cold meant. Even the hardy Dag Umber was wrapped from head to toe in thick furs and she still caught him shivering. Not that she could blame him. This cold found its way through the tiny openings, the few unprotected parts of her face, the thinner fabric on the inner side of her elbows, even her fingertips somehow. They had warned her that it would be cold, but how could she, a girl from the south, a true summer child, ever imagine what they meant? Her companions were true and tested Northerners, or at least well-accustomed to this climate in the case of Erik, but even they hurried across the snowy field and towards the forest, where the cold was supposedly somewhat tolerable. Few brothers of the Night's Watch, only the rangers, dared to venture into this forest and out of the thousands of men currently manning the Wall, only two dozen had ever ventured beyond it, up the frozen rivers and into the Frostfangs and the Valley of Thenn. There were talks of cannibals that lived north of the forest and of a great, burned city to the east, but Raenna had studied their route and she found some comfort knowing that they'd head west, crossing through the forest for three weeks, trying to avoid the wildling settlements hidden within, before reaching the outskirts of the mountains. For now, reaching the outskirts of the Haunted Forest was their first goal. The snow was fresh and Raenna sunk into it past her ankles, as she had to drag herself forward. It'd be better beneath the trees, where the ground was frozen and trampled solid, but just crossing this single mile made her dread the moment they'd leave the forest again, where they'd have to climb the mountains chasing after a wildling warband who was perfectly accustomed to this climate. Their enemy was, by all accounts, more numerous, better supplied, better trained for this environment and should they reach the Half-Thenn, they'd be able to get reinforcements, whereas there was no aid Raenna and her companions could hope for in this untamed land. The sole advantage they had was that their enemy would not expect them, at least if they were careful. She was no soldier, but she did not like those odds. This single mile through fresh snow, with the cold using any chance it could get to bite at her already proved to her that she was woefully unprepared for this journey. She'd have to rely on their guides for this and it was not something that came easy to her. Erik was a deserter, a few weeks back he had been an enemy and though she understood his discontent with the Night's Watch, she could hardly trust him. Saint was a drunkard, he didn't even hide the small flask of potent booze he had taken with him. And while Ozerog seemed experienced at least, there was something cruel in his gaze, something that reminded her of Clayton. When push came to shove, none of them were reliable. Her companions from the North were a different story entirely. Harrold Hornwood and Eon Dustin, Dag Umber and Jorn Mormont, they were used to the cold and all of them were capable fighters for certain. Mace Crowl and his unicorn even moved across the snow with the same ease she had when traversing over city streets. They were similar, the wildlings and the men of Skagos, so perhaps he was the most valuable ally she had at the moment. But Raenna herself had never felt this useless before. Brandon had seen something in her, he had put her on this group for a reason, but she couldn't help but feel like he had made a mistake. Terroma had taught her how to kill, but a killer was not needed here. They'd need a tracker, a guide, a survivalist, not a girl who had spent the first decade of her life hiding from her own father and the next ten years training to become something she had desperately tried to escape from. For the first time in a long, long time, she felt unprepared for what was asked of her. Contrary to its name, the Haunted Forest was a welcome sight right now and the moment she stepped foot beneath it, relief grew within her. The cold was indeed more tolerable here and the snow was solid, making it immediately easier for the group to move. Now, Raenna dared to look over her shoulder and back at the impossibly huge structure that was the Wall. From this side, with nothing to obstruct her view for dozens upon dozens of miles, it seemed even more imposing, huge blocks of ice, completely frozen over, stacked for hundreds of feet and reaching beyond the horizon. It was not surprising that the wildlings had so much hatred for southern folk. She'd feel the same towards anyone who'd try to keep her from their lands with a wall of this impossible size. At the same time, this couldn't be the full truth. Nobody, not even the First Men, not even with old magic, would ever put so much effort into something just to keep a few ill-equipped raiders out of the Seven Kingdoms. She knew the stories, of course, but only in this moment did she truly start to believe in them. And suddenly she felt unease, not exactly fear, knowing what had lurked in these lands during the Long Night. No one spoke and the silence, interrupted only by their crunching footsteps, was discomforting. The sounds and sights here beneath the trees seemed muffled, an odd light shining through the trees. According to Saint, during the summer years, the Haunted Forest would turn into a vast sea of green as seen from atop the Wall. Right now it was all covered in snow, even the underbrush was frozen over. There were paths through the forest, but on her own Raenna would have never found them. Still, there was a method to Ozerog's guidance, as the experienced ranger led them through the forest without uttering a word. She had memorized their early route. They'd walk for most of the day, before reaching a circle of weirwood trees before sundown. There, they'd find shelter. Though there were wildling settlements hidden within the forest, they'd try to avoid those, for obvious reasons. Not all wildlings were inherently hostile to the Night's Watch, but the relations were tense at best. Dag had brought trade goods with him just to be prepared, iron tools that were hard to come by this side of the Wall, but nobody seemed to truly believe that there'd be a chance to use them. For now, all they could do was to march forward on the half-hidden ranger paths through this frozen wood. Unusually for a forest of this size, few living creatures crossed their path. Once, Raenna saw an owl sitting in a tree, another time, two does walked through the underbrush in the distance, only to run as soon as they saw the humans approaching. There were trails as well and though Raenna was no skilled tracker, even she could recognize wolf tracks. These, however, were larger than the ones she was used to. Direwolves roamed freely here when they had gotten rare on the other side of the Wall and though she served House Stark now, she was not keen on meeting the animal featured on their flag. It was a long, silent march for her, walking on the rear of their small group, while Ozerog and Dag led them from the front. Harrold and Eon marched behind them, the former chatting merrily and meaninglessly, whereas the latter only gave him some occasional stoic nods and grunts. Saint Strad was walking behind them, taking some quiet sips from his flask whenever he thought that no one was watching. Then came Jorn Mormont, walking all by himself as well. Compared to warriors such as Harrold or Dag, he seemed soft, weak even, but he braced the hardships of their march admirably, better than Raenna herself, who had to struggle with keeping up with the men. Finally, the odd pair of Erik Flowers and Mace Crowl, walking side by side, with the latter leading his unicorn with one hand. It was him who noticed that she was not able to keep up the brutal pace through this icy forest. He gave the deserter a nudge with his elbow, before letting out a loud, sharp whistle. Up front, Dag glanced over his shoulder and the whole group slowed down a tiny bit, allowing Raenna to catch up to the two men. “Thanks”, she gasped. “It was unnecessary though. I wouldn't have lost you” Erik shook his head. “Nah, Crowl's right”, he spoke. “Can't take any risks, not here. This forest is treacherous. One moment you're right behind us, the next a shadowcat has pounced on you, tearing your throat out before any of us can reach you. And if it's no shadowcat, it'll be wildlings” “You've been doing well”, Mace growled. “For a Southerner” A crooked smirk formed on Raenna's face. “Why, thanks”, she chuckled. “Coming from you, that's downright heartwarming. And how are you two holding up?” Mace grunted something and did not reply any further, but Erik now turned to her. “Better than most of them”, he spoke, pointing forwards at the Northerners, who carried on through the snow with visible difficulty. “So, from a fellow Southerner, trust me when I say, it'll get easier. It's hard out here, but there's worse. Give it a week or two and you'll be walking like a wildling” “I can't wait for it”, Raenna replied dryly. “So, what's your opinion here? We'll encounter wildlings sooner or later, but how long do you think we'll have until things get ugly?” Erik shrugged. “Not long, I wager”, he mumbled, his previous smile disappearing entirely. “There are many settlements here in the Haunted Forest, mostly Nightrunners. They have no fear of the Wall and though I doubt any raider would be bold enough to settle down here with his family. We may meet a raiding party if we're unlucky. Three days from now, we'll reach settled territory and from there on, we really need to be on our guard” “They're already following us”, Mace revealed in this moment and Raenna tensed up. “How can you tell?”, she asked, subtly glancing around. She hadn't noticed anything of this sort yet. Perhaps it was just the unfamiliar terrain and the stress of this forced march, but the thought that there was someone nearby who had managed to hide from her was discomforting, to say the least. “Saw her half an hour ago”, Mace spoke. “It's just a child, though. Thin girl. Doubt she means to harm us, but she may try to steal some of our food at nightfall” “A child?”, Raenna gasped. “What's a child doing here?” She glanced at Erik, who slowly narrowed his eyes. “What indeed...”, he mumbled. “Wildling children are not necessarily less dangerous than their parents. When I first arrived on the Wall, the Lord Commander warned us not to trust any wildling, no matter how innocent they may seem. Turn your back on them and they are just as likely to stab you than any adult wildling” “I thought you had a soft spot for them, Flowers”, Raenna replied and Erik shook his head. “I like what they have. Actual freedom, of the kind you would never find south of the Wall”, he stated. “Doesn't mean I'm blind to how dangerous they can be. That child may just be out to steal our supplies at night, or she may try to cut our throats to prove her worth to the Nightrunners” “So we should confront her?”, Raenna asked. Once again, Erik shook her head. “I never said that either”, he spoke. His voice was lowered and the ones marching a few feet in front of him could hardly hear him now. “Usually I'd say we do it, but our current company... Ozerog's infamous for his temper. If he gets his fists on a wildling scout, even just a child... I won't have that blood on my conscience, you understand me? So, I say we let her be and sleep lightly tonight” Raenna was quiet after this. She knew little about Ozerog, but from what she had seen, Erik had a point. She was not sure if he should get involved, but if they were to confront the child now, there was no way he wouldn't get a say in her fate. Once more, she glanced over her shoulder and this time, knowing that they were being followed, she caught a glimpse of something small in the underbrush, a thin, cowering figure with a mane of unkempt, light blonde hair. They could wait and let her come, perhaps getting a chance of dealing with her without involving Ozerog or the others. But that'd give her a chance to do whatever it was that she was following them for... [Confront the child now] [Let her follow you until nightfall]
Ysilla The bathwater was warm and fresh, far from unpleasant, but Ysilla could not find even an ounce of joy from it. Tears ran down her face, cold from the chilling wind that howled outside and found its way even through the tiny opening of her tent... of the tent that had been granted to her. It was a far cry from the previous one, where they... She frowned, as she looked around the spacious room. It had a bedroll for herself, a small table with one lonely chair and even a round, wooden bath tub, separated from the rest with a wooden partition. Normally, she'd be delighted at the chance of taking a proper bath after spending several days under the hot sun of Dorne, but now they almost had to force her. She eventually complied out of simple fear, for her own sake, for Theodan, for Jenelyne. Jen... they had left her there, sobbing on the ground, alone in that tent, still chained. She hadn't even looked up when Ysilla was dragged away. Theodan too... she hadn't seen him in hours and it drove her crazy. Last she had seen him, he was not looking good. Barely conscious, bruised and bleeding. Barely alive, probably. Yoreen's men would have killed him. They would have killed him. She had no choice but to reveal their identities. Their mission was over. Allar was dead, but Theodan would live to see another day. But the thought of him dying on the maester's table from the beating he had received because she had hesitated... Once more, tears welled up in Ysilla's eyes and a soft sob left her throat. From the other side of the partition, she heard a sigh. “Are you done now, girl?”, Roseandre spat. She was waiting for her there, another reason why Ysilla had stayed in this tub for at least an hour now. “I'm not here to listen to your sobbing. Get a grip on yourself and get ready. The commander is not known for his patience” That much was true, at least. A fresh set of clothes was lying on the stool next to her. It was a proper dress, suited for a pampered noblewoman, made of a shrill, yellow fabric. Ysilla had no idea where they had gotten it from and she wasn't sure she even wanted an answer to that. All she knew was that she hated it. Even Ashara would have considered it tacky and that was even without considering whom it came from. And yet, Ysilla had no defiance left within her. The moment the other woman complained again, she rose from the tub and reluctantly, she got dressed with the clothes Yoreen had prepared for her. “Finally”, Roseandre hissed as Ysilla stepped from behind the partition. “Thought you'd drowned in that tub. Brought a smile to my face” Ysilla rolled her eyes at the needless hostility. “Are you my handmaiden now, or what?”, she replied, forcing herself to smile. She would not show weakness in front of this woman, she would not allow it. Roseandre's cruel smirk disappeared in an instant. “What did you just say?”, she asked, as Ysilla stepped past her without even looking at her. The other woman reacted swiftly and violently. Ysilla had expected her to respond and she did not fight back as Roseandre grabbed her by the shoulders and heavily slammed her against the tent post behind her. “Did you just mistake me for your servant?”, she growled. One of her hands was clenched around Ysilla's shoulder, the other had grabbed her by the chin. The look in her eyes was downright murderous, but Ysilla glared right back at her. “They spoil their bastards rotten in Dorne, I've heard”, Roseandre spat. “But make no mistake, you're in the Reach now and here, you're nothing but filth. Get cocky again and I'll carve up that pretty face of yours. No one will even bat an eye” There was true hatred in her words, something unexpectedly personal and though Ysilla had overlooked the woman so far, she now immediately realized that Roseandre was dangerous, perhaps just as much as Yoreen Flowers. “I wouldn't do that, Roseandre”, another voice called out for her, one with a familiar eastern accent. The Iron Viper stood in the opening, arms crossed, a stern expression on his face. Immediately, the woman let go of Ysilla. “Viper”, she spoke, her tone notably softer now. “What's her fate to you?” The Iron Viper shrugged. “Truth be told, I don't care much for her”, he replied. “But you, my dear” He entered the tent now, placing one hand on Roseandre's cheek. “Commander Yoreen wants to speak to her and he wants me to deliver her to him... unharmed” Roseandre narrowed her eyes, but she indeed stepped away from Ysilla. “We should have killed her”, she hissed. “Too many have died because of those rats” “Theon Toyne has argued for the same”, the Iron Viper revealed. “In fact, he's arguing for it even now. Yoreen is in a foul mood over this, so what do you think will happen if you harm his prized hostage?” Roseandre rolled her eyes. “Fine...”, she sighed, before she shot a glare at Ysilla. “But you watch your dornish tongue. The commander is less patient than I am” That was another truth, all things considered. She stormed out of the tent, leaving Ysilla and the Iron Viper there. The Essosi gave her a courteous smile. “Please, this way”, he spoke. He offered his arm, though Ysilla refused him. As she walked past him, he shrugged, before quickly catching up to her again. “It's true what I said”, he told her. “Yoreen is in a foul mood. Morale is bad after what you and your friends have done. Many call for your heads. Ser Theon is just the most prominent voice among them, but if I had to guess, I'd say most soldiers in this camp wouldn't mind hanging you from the nearest tree” Ysilla clenched her fists, as she spotted the tent in the distance, their tent, where they had been kept, where everything had gone to hell, where Allar had... Now, tears welled up in her eyes again. “My brother...”, she mumbled. “Where's my... is my brother still alive?” Those words cost her a lot and she closed her eyes, dreading whatever answer the Iron Viper could give her. “He is”, the Essosi confirmed. “His injuries are serious, but not life-threatening. Yoreen's maester has seen to it” Ysilla could not contain her relief, though her brief good mood was soured immediately as soon as she opened her eyes again, laying eyes on the Iron Viper's sword... on her brother's sword. Faith had been in her families possession for generations and to see it in the hands of such a low sellsword genuinely hurt. She could only guess how much worse it had to be for Theodan. “Your brother is currently sleeping”, the Iron Viper continued. “He will need some rest, but the maester is positive that he will survive without any lasting injury” A calm smile formed on his face. “He got lucky, all things considered” Now, Ysilla's gaze was drawn back to the tent. “And... Jen?”, she asked, barely daring to speak those words. A heavy sting of guilt hit her. She had told Yoreen the truth, not daring to utter another lie. Jen could have been with her, protected and treated like a highborn hostage. Instead, she was still in the tent where her brother had been murdered, alone and scared. “She... is not taking this well”, the Iron Viper admitted. “That much has to be expected. Yoreen has learned a lesson, however, and he keeps her heavily guarded. Good and loyal men, whom he trusts implicitly. Her fate remains to be decided upon, but for the time being, she is safe and she will not be mistreated” He placed one closed fist on his heart. “You have my word on it” “And what good is your word, Viper?”, Ysilla hissed. “You sell your sword for coin, to Yoreen Flowers on top of it” Calmly, but entirely without shame, the Iron Viper grinned at her. “You cannot really hold the latter against me, can you? Yoreen is hardly worse than some of the dornishmen I have fought for in the past”, he stated. “As for the former... they say bastards are without honour as well. I can only offer my word, but truth be told, I don't really care if you believe me or not. It won't change a thing now, will it?” Ysilla bit down onto her lower lip. “No, it doesn't”, she confirmed. In silence, they walked side by side through the nightly camp. There were occasional fires around them, illuminating stern faces. Some were minding their own business, but more took note of Ysilla. With a dress like this, it was hard not to attract attention. Most men seemed to recognize her and if not for the Iron Viper by her side, she doubted she'd have gotten through this camp alive. They hated her and from their perspective, they had good reason to. She knew this, but she hated them all the same for it. “For what it's worth, I am sorry for what happened to your friend”, the Iron Viper spoke up at last and Ysilla tensed up. His tone was honest and perfectly cordial, but she could not let her guard down around this man. Nobody was this friendly without reason and she would not relax around him until she knew what he wanted from her. “He was a good man”, she mumbled and the Iron Viper gave her a nod. “So was Dylar Harking”, he sighed. “This entire night has been a mess and it's not how this was supposed to go” Now, she looked at him. “And how was it supposed to go?”, she asked. The Iron Viper was quiet after this, but there was nothing he even had to say, for they were approaching Yoreen's tent at last. She didn't have to guess that it was his, for it was notably larger than the other tents. It was a rectangle of green and white fabric, with two pointed tips on each side. Above it was a flag and though it was dark around them, two large coal braziers illuminated the surrounding landscape nicely. She narrowed her eyes, trying to make out the details on Yoreen's flag... a butterfly, but with two black lines crossing through it. A bastard's sigil. She could have one of them as well if she'd care for those things. Two armoured knights stood guard in front of Yoreen's tent, but neither made any attempt to stop the Iron Viper from entering. They even saluted in front of the sellsword, but both men shot Ysilla truly vicious glares. They were armed with halberds and shields, though they also carried longswords on their belts and even though it was a surprisingly warm night, they were clad in thick, warm cloaks. “Commander Yoreen”, the Iron Viper spoke up at once, the moment he entered the tent. Ysilla followed behind him, knowing she had no choice but to comply. Yoreen's tent was large and well-furnished, with several parts of it separated by elegant, wooden partitions. The part she could see was illuminated by a small coal brazier, enough to comfortably warm the entire room. The centrepiece of it was a sturdy dining table, simple in its design, lacking the elegance her father enjoyed so much in his hall at Godsgrace. It was, however, overflowing with food, served on silver platters. There was grilled meat, cold already, but the mere sight of it reminded Ysilla of how hungry she was. The meat was surrounded by fruit, fresh, thick grapes and apples. There was a basket full of bread and another full of cheese, next to a platter with grilled chicken on it, adorned by small tomatoes. Of course, the moment of joy she felt at seeing so much food was ruined immediately as she noticed Yoreen Flowers himself, sitting on the other end of the table, the brazier only illuminating his face and his crossed hands, leaving the rest of his massive body shrouded in darkness. “Viper”, he spoke. “I see Lady Ysilla has found her way here at last. Decently presentable now, almost like a proper noble lady” He glanced to his side and to Ysilla's discomfort, she noticed that Theon Toyne was there as well, not sitting at the table, but lying on a wooden lounger. “Wouldn't you agree, Theon?” The Stormlander narrowed his eyes as Ysilla entered. “I say you shouldn't waste your time tormenting that girl”, he hissed. “Take her head off and be done with it” Yoreen shook his head. “Nobody will die”, he stated. “At least not unless you give me another reason, girl. I still have one lowborn prisoner and barely the patience to properly feed her, not after what you and your group of spies pulled tonight” Though his words were harsh, his expression was unnervingly calm. “So, Lady Ysilla, take a seat. Let us dine and speak, like civilized people” Ysilla did as he ordered her to, taking the one free chair on the other side of the table. There was a platter in front of her, but she hesitated to grab anything from this table. She was hungry, yes, but she barely managed to stay in the tent with this man. Behind her, the Iron Viper took position between her and the opening, ruining any hope she had of escaping from this predicament. He remained in the tent naturally, without needing any further order. Slowly, Yoreen shoved a small tomato in his mouth. He bit down, swiftly and hardly before it had fully entered, spraying bits of red down onto his chin. “You should eat something”, he then growled, while still chewing his meal. While he spoke, he already reached for one of the chicken legs. With a sickening crunch, he broke the bone in half, while glaring at Ysilla, who cowered within her chair. She was afraid of him. He could feel it and it was clear that he was enjoying it. “You should know by now that there is no way out of this for you, mylady”, he growled. “So, get yourself a decent meal and for the love of your brother and of that other girl, start talking” He bit down into the chicken leg, ripping a bite out with his teeth, before narrowing his eyes. “I am civil right now, but you and I know perfectly well that I don't have to be”, he growled. “So I suggest you do the right thing for once. Cooperate with me and we can avoid further bloodshed” Ysilla frowned as she watched him eat. He guzzled as if he had been starving until now and as civilized as this tent looked, he proved once more to her that he was nothing but a savage. He bit down onto the chicken once more, this time breaking through the bone with his teeth, swallowing meat and splinters of bone together with one heavy gulp from his cup. Reluctantly, Ysilla reached for one slice of bread and a pleased smile appeared on Yoreen's face. “You are hungry, aren't you?”, he spoke. “Eat as much as you want. Nobody shall say I starve my hostages” “They say enough about you already”, Ysilla mumbled, without even looking at him. From the other side of the table, a cold, utterly joyless chuckle left Yoreen's throat. “Do they now?”, he growled. “Of course the dornish have all sorts of stories about me. They call me a rapist and yet, haven't I killed a man who tried to rape you just a few hours ago?” “You have also killed a friend of mine”, Ysilla spat and she realized how careful she had to be with her words when Yoreen nearly rose from his seat. “I would have spared him if not for Dylar's death”, he admitted. “He was a good soldier and I was fond of him. Your friend got exactly what he deserved and you can be glad that I have too many principles to do the same to your highborn brother” “I want to see him”, Ysilla added. “Theodan, I mean” Yoreen shook his head. “Your brother is sleeping”, he replied, confirming the Iron Viper's words from before. “Milk of the poppy. He needs that now, more than he needs his nagging sister. Comply with my demands and I will take you to him once he wakes up. I have already prepared a letter for your father, an offer of ransom. It is a critical sum, of course, but I'm sure he'll find the safety of his heir and his bastard daughter much more important” “Father will pay”, Ysilla confirmed, as she finally bit down onto the bread. It was old and hard, but in this moment, it was the most wonderful thing she had ever tasted. Yoreen gave her a nod. “He better will”, he stated. “But before I let you go, you will tell me everything, right from the very beginning. At first, I thought you to be simple spies, or saboteurs maybe. You wouldn't be the first I caught trying to cross the pass. But why would a highborn knight and his bastard sister take such a risk? Start at the beginning, be honest with me and maybe I'll send your little friend with you once your father has paid your ransom” She froze in sudden fear as she heard these words. Jenelyne... she needed to make sure that nothing would happen to Jen. Yoreen spoke firmly and calmly, but she knew the stories about him. He was a rapist and a murderer and she could not live with herself if Jen had to stay here all alone. She already felt guilt for not trying to lie to him earlier. Then again, she was not sure if she could pull it off. This man was perceptive and worse than that, he was vindictive. They had provoked him once before and Allar had paid the ultimate price for that. There was no telling how much worse he'd treat Jen should they anger him once again. And yet... there was more at stake here than just Jen and the thought of it brought tears to Ysilla's eyes. If Yoreen were to learn what they want in the Reach, whom they were trying to recruit, he'd find a way to ruin it for them. He'd leave Dorne defenceless against the dragons. Countless would die. Her father, her brother... but Jen. If anything would happen to her, she could not live with herself. Ysilla looked up again, finally swallowing the piece of bread she had been chewing on this entire time. Yoreen looked at her calmly and coldly, his corpse-like gaze sending shivers down her spine. “What will it be, mylady?”, he asked. “Speak up and tell me everything and maybe we can still part ways... cordially” [Tell him why you were sent to the Reach] [Lie to him] [Refuse to tell him]
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Post by drdestroyer18 on Jul 15, 2021 8:59:30 GMT
[Let her follow you until nightfall] [Tell him why you were sent to the Reach]
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Louk
New Member
Posts: 43
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Post by Louk on Jul 15, 2021 17:48:29 GMT
[Confront the child now] [Lie to him]
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Post by diversegnu on Jul 17, 2021 19:16:44 GMT
[Let her follow you until nightfall] [Lie to him] Let's live on the edge, I can easily see both these choices bring about severe ramifications though.
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Post by InGenNateKenny on Jul 18, 2021 2:58:26 GMT
[Confront the child now] Children are the future...unless we stop them now.
[Tell him why you were sent to the Reach] Haven't we learned that lying to this guy is a bad idea?
One thing I like about this paragraph - it's probably unintentional since it's inconsistently applied - is that many of the sentences are broken by commas or are very short. It gives a sense of desperation, woe, and agony. Some near-repetition has a similar effect. Very neat.
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Post by GMS Freeman on Jul 19, 2021 11:52:13 GMT
[Confront the child now]
[Tell him why you were sent to the Reach]
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Post by LiquidChicagoTed on Jul 30, 2021 17:08:45 GMT
[Let her follow you until nightfall] [Lie to him] Let's live on the edge, I can easily see both these choices bring about severe ramifications though. I can confirm, both of these choices will have major consequences, though they don't necessarily have to be negative. Ysilla's choice in particular is likely to be among the big choices I specifically mention at the end of the chapter, but Raenna's won't be without consequence either. At the very least, both will have immediate consequences in their next parts, with potentially long-lasting ramifications as well.
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Post by LiquidChicagoTed on Jul 30, 2021 17:25:59 GMT
[Confront the child now] Children are the future...unless we stop them now. [Tell him why you were sent to the Reach] Haven't we learned that lying to this guy is a bad idea? One thing I like about this paragraph - it's probably unintentional since it's inconsistently applied - is that many of the sentences are broken by commas or are very short. It gives a sense of desperation, woe, and agony. Some near-repetition has a similar effect. Very neat. Actually, I don't think you ever tried lying to him. His father, now that's another story entirely, lying to him is never a good, but Ysilla has actually been fairly cooperative with Yoreen so far. That being said, while Yoreen is not his father and has made it clear that he and Maron are not on good terms (more on their relationship in the parts to come), he has also revealed that he hates liars perhaps just as passionately as his old man does. So, I am super amazed at this comment, because, believe me on this one, what you have written here has actually been my intention, I wanted to convey Ysilla's despair. I just never thought anyone would catch up on it, because what you say is correct, it is inconsistently applied. That being said, while writing that paragraph, I absolutely wanted it to have this effect and I am amazed and very glad that someone noticed!
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Post by LiquidChicagoTed on Aug 2, 2021 1:05:40 GMT
The Voting is closed!
Raenna is going to confront the child immediately
Ysilla is going to tell Yoreen why she has been sent to the Reach Yeah, both of those choices were important, especially Ysilla's decision will really shape the way her storyline is going to play out here. You may not immediately notice if this was the right choice or not, but by the end of the chapter, it should be perfectly clear if you chose wisely. In either way, this should lead to an interesting new development for her. Meanwhile, Raenna's choice will also have long-lasting consequences and some of them will become obvious right away once it is time for her next part. The next part, however, is going to go to Samantha and Keat, two of the few PoV's who haven't yet had a part for Chapter 4. Last time we saw Samantha, she just survived the end of the Ironborn occupation of Southshield. Thanks to her intervention, Heleri Hewett, ward of Lord Serry and most important hostage to the Ironborn leader Holgar the Red, was saved, while her companion Robert Flowers (or Robert Beesbury, as he quite vehemently insists) managed to open the gates, leading a Shield Islands army against the Ironborn and forcing Holgar to flee. For her role in this siege, Samantha was brought to Arianna Hewett, Heleri's aunt and Robert's employer, who has personally overseen this strike from the safety of her ship. Arianna herself is an enigmatic woman, though seemingly friendly she also gave Samantha the creeps and there is also the matter of her brother, Donnel Selwyn, who is openly negotiating an alliance with Petyr Vyrwel in the current chapters. However, Arianna was deeply grateful for Samantha's role in saving Heleri and she agreed to arrange a meeting with Lord Serry, who is currently her guest on the island of Oakenshield. In case you need a reminder on this as well, Samantha has travelled to Southshield because Vali promised her that Lord Serry is an enemy of Maron Mullendore and someone who could be willing to aid them. However, Arianna then revealed that she knows about Samantha's dealings with Vali, who is her husband's bastard and whom she deeply despises. She also claimed that she wouldn't dismiss Vali's concerns just because they come from him, but that she wants to know why he would send two women to Southshield to meet with Lord Serry. After a moment of consideration, Samantha decided to be honest with Arianna, which means cluing her in on the basic details of the Mullendore-Vyrwel conspiracy. Her next part will start a few days later, as the Shield Island fleet is arriving at Oakenshield, the seat of House Hewett. Meanwhile, Keat was last seen trying to recruit the thief Nicola Sand for his Hightower heist. On the way, he and his companion Samuel Puffer noticed that they were being followed and once they arrived at the inn where Nicola was staying, the thief quickly tried to flee from them, mistaking them for debt collectors. In the end, the mysterious pursuer stepped in and managed to catch Nicola before Keat and Samuel could do. He then introduced himself as Gerald Inchfield, a hedge knight and cousin to Erik Inchfield, Hishi's enforcer and Keat's heist companion. Knowing that Keat is in contact with Erik, Gerald used Nicola as a bargaining chip to force him to arrange a meeting between the two cousins. He also revealed that Erik is apparently a kinslayer, responsible for murdering his own mother, who had raised Gerald like a son. For this, he wants to kill his cousin. In the end, Keat agreed to Gerald's demands, therefore freeing Nicola for his heist, but getting involved in a potentially lethal family quarrel. His next part will start a few hours later, as Keat, Samuel and Nicola just arrive at the Thousand Shades of Flowers.
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Post by LiquidChicagoTed on Aug 4, 2021 0:33:35 GMT
Samantha The castle that served as the seat of House Hewett was smaller than the one Samantha had seen on Southshield, but it was just as sturdy, located on a steep hill above the harbour town of Oakenshield. With thick walls and sturdy oaken gates, it seemed downright impregnable and yet, Holgar the Red had taken Southshield as well, so she knew that appearances could be deceiving. After having docked at the harbour, a small crowd had gathered to get a glimpse at Lady Hewett's ship. More ships were waiting in the harbour, the ones carrying men from House Chester and House Grimm. And Samantha already saw the Serry fleet docking here, or at least what was left of it. They had taken the brunt of Holgar's assault and few vessels had escaped him unscathed. But he had been driven off, for now at least, by the combined might of the four houses of the Shield Islands. The crowd dispersed quickly as Hewett soldiers emerged from the ship. Led by Marcus Whitehead, a dozen soldiers first secured the main road, keeping the crowd at bay as another dozen men escorted Lady Hewett and her niece from the ship. Each of them were clad in dark, high-collared coats, wearing chainmail beneath, armed with broadswords, but none of them had their weapon drawn for now. Samantha and Sasha followed, accompanied by Robert Beesbury. There was no cheering from the people who remained, they quietly looked on as the soldiers cleared a path for their lady. If anything, they seemed fearful of Arianna Hewett, or perhaps it was just this show of force that had them intimidated. “What's up with the people?”, Sasha asked quietly, as they walked across the harbour. Robert shrugged. “Lady Arianna has always governed Oakenshield well during the many times her husband has fallen ill”, he spoke, his voice so low that Arianna couldn't possibly hear him. “But that's not enough to win the hearts of the smallfolk. She's not from around here. It's an uphill battle, winning the hearts of the Shield Islanders and Lady Arianna is by no means a gregarious woman. Feasts and grand balls and parades, the smallfolk loves those, but the lady most certainly doesn't” He looked at the host of soldiers that escorted them through the streets of this small town. “Many here would have rather seen Lord Hewett marrying a woman from the Shield Islander houses, as his father did before him. From what I heard, they never welcomed her with open arms and she never cared to change that” Even though he had lowered his voice tremendously, Lady Arianna slowed down just as he finished his sentence. Robert tensed up as the older woman looked at him, a stern, iron glare. “You're prattling again, Robert”, she spoke. “Be a darling and cease it” She glanced at the path ahead. “Better yet, hurry ahead. Inform my lord husband of our coming and have the servants prepare the small meeting room. Once our allies of House Chester and Grimm have landed, I am sure Hoster wishes to discuss our joint strategy with them, regarding the Ironborn” Robert saluted in front of her. “It will be done, mylady”, he replied firmly, before he hurried ahead. Arianna looked after him, an inscrutable smile on her face. “His enthusiasm is almost endearing”, she replied, as she and Samantha walked side by side. “I'll have to send my regards to Lord Oakheart for lending him to me. Retaking Southshield wouldn't have been so easy without him and his... eye for talents. Many more would have perished, perhaps including my niece” “Don't forget that we were the ones to stall the Ironborn leader”, Sasha interjected and Arianna looked at her as if she just now noticed her for the first time. “Ah, the other woman sellsword”, she spoke. “I don't think we had the pleasure yet” Sasha gave her a nod. “Name's Sasha”, she spoke. Arianna's smile grew thinner. “Charming”, she replied, before she looked back at Samantha. “I can't speak freely here on the streets of course, but there is one thing I need to ask of you” “What is it?”, Samantha asked, before she realized whom she was speaking to. “Mylady?” Arianna briefly looked around. They were surrounded by her guards and as far as Samantha had seen, they seemed exceptionally loyal for common soldiers. Still, when she continued, her voice was low. “I presume your friend here knows what you told me about?”, she asked and Samantha gave her a nod. “And this is just between the three of us for now?” Once again, Samantha gave her a nod. “Good. For the time being let's keep it this way”, Arianna continued. “Not a word to anybody, not until I give you the clear. I cannot speak freely right here, but trust me when I say that secrecy is paramount for the time being” Her expression hardened. “Not one word, especially not to your new friend, Robert”, she added, her tone severe, before she turned around again, quickly catching up with her niece again and leaving Samantha and Sasha a few feet behind her. They continued through the small town and up the steep hill, towards the castle of Oakenshield. The gates were open and from afar, horns were blown to announce their arrival. Markus Whitehead marched on ahead, Arianna and Heleri not far behind him. As far as Samantha could see, the young woman looked absolutely miserable to be back here. Arianna had freely admitted to it, there was no love lost between her and her niece, but Samantha had to wonder what had happened between those two. They were smiling at each other, for the sake of keeping appearances, but they were fake smiles without even an ounce of warmth. Robert Beesbury was waiting for them near the main gate and behind him, Samantha could see a quaint courtyard, small and beautiful, with a carefully maintained garden growing within its walls. “Mylady, everything is in place”, he spoke. “Your servants prepare the room as we speak and Lord Serry has been informed of your arrival. Once Ser Garibald and Ser Gerold join us, we can jointly discuss our next move” “Excellent, Robert”, Arianna replied, walking past him without even looking at him, while Robert saluted. Heleri remained a step behind her. “What about my uncle?”, she asked. “Shouldn't he be here to greet us?” Arianna stopped and the look she gave her niece was inscrutable. Still, it sent shivers down Samantha's spine. “You know of your uncle's frail health”, she spoke. “I presume his bowels still trouble him” With these words, she looked at Robert who gave her a nod. “The lord is awake and apparently in good spirits now that you have returned, but his affliction will prevent him from attending his guests”, he replied. “It is unfortunate, but not unexpected”, Arianna spoke. “Tell Hoster he doesn't need to worry, he can focus entirely on his recovery. I will attend the war meeting with our allies” She walked into the courtyard, while Heleri stopped at the gate. “Seriously?”, the young woman hissed. “This is Uncle Hoster's duty and yet you're... so casual about replacing him” She narrowed her eyes. “Have you no shame, Aunt Arianna?” “Mylady...”, Markus Whitehead interjected, but Arianna cut him off with a sharp glare, followed by a cutting smile towards her niece. “Dear child, you haven't been here in years”, she replied and her voice was carefully controlled and as cold as ice. “Your uncle's condition has worsened since then. Contrary to what you may believe, I have no intentions of replacing him. However, one does grow used to the situation. There's a routine to it and this is hardly the first time this occurred” There was anger in her chilly gaze, but a winning smirk briefly flashed over her face. “You honestly didn't know?”, she added. “I thought Lady Serry taught you better than that” Now, Heleri actually flinched. “You... how do you...?”, she gasped, but Arianna turned around already. “My dear niece must be tired. Robert, see that she will find her rooms”, she spoke. Heleri clenched her fists. “I wish to see Uncle Hoster first!”, she growled. “You can tell us a lot about his condition, but I prefer to confirm it with my own eyes” Arianna exchanged a look with Robert. “Is he capable of receiving visitors?”, she asked, to which the man gave her a nod. A moment of silence passed, before the Lady of Oakenshield let out a sigh. “If you must, visit him then. Robert will accompany you”, she spoke. “At least that way he can make sure you're not bothering your uncle too much” For the briefest of moments, she glanced at Samantha. “Marcus will show you too our guest rooms. If you need anything, the servants will provide it”, she spoke. “I am a woman of my word. Tomorrow, I will personally escort you to meet with Lord Serry” This was all she had to say and without waiting for Samantha's reply, she left them standing there. “Once Ser Garibald and Ser Gerold arrive, send them to me at once”, she spoke, as she marched off. Heleri frowned as her aunt entered the keep and she downright glared at Robert as he placed a hand on her shoulder. “Now, mylady, I am sure you have many questions about your uncle's condition”, he began, but Heleri shook her head. “Trust me, I know exactly why he's suffering so much”, she hissed. “But you can tell Aunt Arianna that she doesn't need to worry. I won't repeat such... rumours out in the open” She walked past him. “No need to show me the way, Flowers”, she added. “I still know my way around” Robert shrugged, as he looked after Heleri. “I better follow her”, he sighed. “That brat is a handful. Doesn't even realize how lucky she is that Arianna sent me to save her” He gave Samantha a nod. “Though, guess that was mostly your work in the end”, he added, bringing a cheeky smile to her face. “You better remember it, Robert”, she added and his expression grew slightly more disgruntled than usual. “Trust me, I never forget a debt”, he mumbled. “Neither does Lady Arianna. You've done well winning her favour” “We'll see about that”, Samantha spoke. She and Robert separated there, with him hurrying after Heleri, while Samantha and Sasha turned to Marcus Whitehead. The soldier had taken off his hat now, moving one hand through his dark hair. “Guest rooms for the two of you”, he mumbled, as a crooked grin formed on his face. “The lady is in a better mood than usual. She's not showing it, but she's really pleased with what you two and Beesbury did in Southshield” He led them through a side door into the keep, directly into a hallway. “So, you're her right-hand man?”, Samantha asked and Marcus gave her a nod. “For the time being, yes”, he replied. “But make no mistake, I'm not sworn to her or her family and I'm gone once I receive a better offer. Lady Arianna knows that and she's fine with it. In return, I follow her orders and I ask no questions” “That means you're a sellsword”, Sasha stated and after a moment of hesitation, Marcus confirmed this with a nod. “Not too unlike you”, he replied. “I've served many of the great lords of the Reach. Lady Hewett is not my first employer nor will she be my last, but she pays better than most” Sasha was about to say something undoubtedly hostile, but this time, Samantha was faster. “Then you must have some pretty neat stories”, she interjected. “Care to share them some time?” “Only if there's drinking involved”, Marcus replied. “But bring a bottle of wine or two and maybe I'll share some of my best” He stopped in front of a door, pushing it open with one hand, while making a gesture with the other. “And here we are. Your guest room” Samantha glanced past him into the room, spotting two beds and a single drawer. It was small, but she had slept way worse. “I know it's not much, but honestly, I'm surprised she even lets you sleep here in the keep at all”, Marcus spoke. “Before I won her trust, I had to rent a room at the local inn” Samantha gave him a sly smile. “Perhaps you should have tried saving her niece”, she replied and the man let out a rough chuckle. “Would have loved to, but one of us had to stay behind and guard the lady. Robert did fine work in my stead and so did you” He glanced into the room and narrowed his eyes. “Listen, I'd love to chat, but duty calls”, he added. “Just one more thing. If anyone gives you a hard time, swallow it and don't start any trouble with my men. Instead, you come to me and I deal with it” Sasha crossed her arms. “And if they're asking for it?”, she hissed. Marcus shrugged. “Especially if they're asking for it”, he told her. “I got no tolerance for any of that, but I gotta keep the peace. Here in Oakenshield, we deal with such in private, away from prying eyes. I'll help you out if you get into trouble, but don't make my job harder by taking matters into your own hands” “Sounds reasonable”, Samantha replied quickly and Marcus gave her a relieved nod. “Good to hear it”, he growled. “As long as you follow that rule, we'll get along” He turned around. “Have a good day then”, he said and his tone was sincere at the least. “One of the servants should be coming soon, so if you desire anything, just stay in your rooms, but aside from that, you're guests, so explore the castle grounds, within reasonable limits of course” With these words, he left them in front of their room. Samantha threw a bright smile at Sasha, who seemed less than thrilled, but her friend followed her as she entered the room. “So, you're gonna tell me about it?”, she asked, as Sasha sunk down onto one of the beds. “What do you mean?”, she asked and Samantha shrugged. “You're in a foul mood”, she clarified. “Well... fouler than usual. Anything the matter?” “You bet it is”, Sasha hissed. “That woman is a snake. I can see it, you can see it, yet here we are, playing nice with her as if we trust her” Quietly, Samantha sat down next to her, placing one hand on Sasha's upper arm. “Yeah, she's a snake”, she confirmed. “Doesn't mean she cannot be on our side. I...” She paused. “I wouldn't have told her about Mullendore otherwise” Sasha rolled her eyes. “Yeah, about that...”, she growled. “I get that we have to tell Lord Serry. Vali seems to trust him and while I don't trust that little weasel either, we have a common enemy. But aside from you and him, there's maybe a handful of people I trust with that knowledge. Leonard, Davith, Richard, Jenna, not that assassin woman, not Richard's sleazy brother, not the Targaryen spy and certainly not Arianna Hewett” “What makes you think I do?”, Samantha asked, her tone calm, but her smile thinner than before. Sasha rose from her position, now eye to eye with her, giving her a stern glare. “Don't tell me you've kept your guard up”, she clarified. “Being all smiles with the lady and her guard dog” Now, Samantha's smile widened. “What, you jealous?”, she chirped, earning herself a glare of pure annoyance. “Idiot...”, Sasha mumbled, but she couldn't contain the hint of a smile, just for a second. “Just... we don't trust them, right? I gotta stay careful here and... honestly, so should you” [Tell Sasha to calm down] [Tell Sasha to remain on guard]
Keat “You sure about that?”, Samuel asked, as he and Keat approached the Thousand Shades of Flowers once again. Nicola Sand was walking slightly behind him and though Keat had been worried about him running at first, his fellow thief had tried nothing like it. Instead, he seemed genuinely grateful about the deal they had negotiated with Gerald Inchfield. His monkey was sitting on his shoulder, now docile, curiously eyeing the people they walked past. “Inchfield?”, Keat asked and Samuel gave him a nod. “Erik's working for Hishi. I don't know much about him, but doesn't that make him an ally?”, his friend replied. Now, Keat shook his head. “If what Gerald says is true, then Erik's a kinslayer”, he stated. “In our line of work, one really needs to keep a few standards. A few golden rules, if you so will. I don't work with kinslayers, simple as that. A man who is willing to turn on family cannot be trusted” “So... I may not be in the best position to chime in on that...”, Nicola Sand interjected and both, Keat and Samuel shot him a glare. “No, you really aren't”, Samuel hissed. “Be glad we got you away from that guy” Nicola nodded quickly, followed by a charming smirk. “Oh, but I am, dear friend”, he was quick to reply. “Please, you understand why I ran from you, right? All a terrible mistake we can leave behind” “I'm not one to hold grudges”, Keat assured him. “Doesn't mean I give a damn about you opinion. You don't know what this is about” Nicola gave him a nod. “And neither do you, right?”, he replied. “That Gerald guy... call me petty, but he threatened to sell me to Vogero Forios. I'm not so keen on trusting a man who, well, basically threatened to kill me. He seems seriously unhinged” Much as Keat would have preferred not to get another unwanted opinion on this, he had to admit that Nicola was not wrong. He too had seen the mad anger in Gerald's eyes. In fact, that was another rule, though nowhere near as golden as the one about kinslayers. He preferred not to work with madmen. There had been no other way but to give his word to the hedge knight, but that didn't mean he would just do as he was told. “Relax, you two...”, he mumbled. “I'm not going to sell Erik out just that easily. I wanna hear his side of the story first. If it turns out that Gerald lied to us, I'll call it off” Nicola's smile grew thinner and Keat immediately shook his head. “As long as you still help us out, you're under Hishi's protection” By now, he could see that Erik himself was standing guard in front of the Thousand Shades of Flowers, this time accompanied by two armed men whom Keat didn't recognize. One of them was clad in a mixture of leather and chainmail similar to Erik, marking him as another of Hishi's hired guards. The third man, however, was clad in a different attire. His armour was thin and barely notable, just some hardened leather almost entirely covered by a wide coat. There was a sigil on it and Keat frowned as he recognized it, three red marks running through a white circle. “One of Tavner's men”, he warned them. “Means Hishi is doing business with the old man or with one of his cronies” “Hishi mentioned something like that, yeah...”, Samuel admitted. “How much did you owe him again?” Keat shot him a glare. “I hope she's going to take care of it...”, he mumbled. “Else you gotta help me run. Again” His frown faded into a stressed smile as he reached Erik. “Hey”, he greeted him and Erik replied with a grim nod. “Took you long enough”, he spoke. “Hishi's been waiting for you” “Is she now...?”, Keat asked, as he threw a barely hidden glance at Tavner's man, who was glaring at the new arrivals. “What's the matter?” His voice was shaky enough for Erik to pick up on his discomfort. “This one is not here for you, thief”, he assured him. “Efram Forrester is testing some of the new girls. Tavner is looking out for his own. Whole place is crawling with these cunts” The guard shot him a brief glare and Erik replied to it with a cocky smirk. “Yeah, you heard me”, he hissed. “Didn't like your kind back when I was working for the Burned Man and I sure as hell don't like you now” He shook his head. “Why Hishi allows them in here, I don't know. Guess they want something from Tavner, so now we gotta deal with his thugs marching through our place as if they own it” “Huh... sure that's going to be fine”, Keat mumbled dryly. Robert Tavner was more of an open secret in Oldtown's criminal underworld. He never got openly involved, instead his operations were managed by numerous associates while the old man himself enjoyed the benefits of being Lord Hightower's friend and adviser. But everyone knew whom his underlings were truly answering to. With the Burned Man and Butterfly gone, Tavner was apparently ready to act more in the open. “Tell me about it...”, Erik sighed. “I tried to bring it up with Lanford, but he wouldn't even wipe his ass unless Hishi'd tell him to” As he spoke, he glanced over his shoulder, as if he expected the captain of the guard somewhere behind him. “Listen... you better not keep Hishi waiting. They're patient, but you've been testing it lately” Keat gave him a quick nod. “I'll be right along”, he assured him. “But... listen, are you free this evening?” Erik raised an eyebrow, before he shook his head. “Gotta shoot you down right there, but I don't swing that way”, he growled. “I meant a friendly gathering!”, Keat was quick to correct him, hearing Samuel's snickering behind his back. Once again, Erik shoo his head. “And I'm not looking for friends either”, he replied. “Hishi assigned me to help you, I'll do that as good as I can, but I don't need to spend time with you when I'm off duty” He shrugged. “Try to find someone else to befriend”, he advised him, his tone sharp and his expression firm. “Maybe Joshawa would share a drink with you, but I couldn't care less” Of course, Keat couldn't just tell him about his encounter with Gerald. If the hedge knight had been telling the truth, then Erik was dangerous. More than that, it would ruin any chance of him finding out the truth. No, he had to be cautious here. Pushing Erik would lead to nothing good. But perhaps Erik and Gerald were not the only ones who knew the truth... “Alright, I get it”, he sighed. “I won't push the matter again” Erik's expression softened. “Great, glad that's out of the way”, the sellsword replied. “Go inside then. Hishi's waiting” Keat wasted no more time and as he stepped into the brothel, he immediately realized that Erik hadn't been exaggerating the situation. There were half a dozen of Tavner's men in the lobby alone. He even recognized some of them from his previous dealings with Efram Forrester, but thankfully none of them seemed to remember him. As for Forrester himself, while he was far from the worst of Tavner's enforcers, Keat would rather avoid running into him. The trio hurried through the hallways of the Thousand Shades of Flowers, past larger halls and closed rooms, some of which were used to entertain the guests, others served as gathering points for Hishi and her workers. Nicola in particular seemed nervous and Keat couldn't blame him. His encounter with Thorin Bannister had taught him a valuable lesson about avoiding his debtors and there was probably no worse man to owe coin to in all of Oldtown than Robert Tavner. “There you are, darling Keat!”, the familiar voice of Hishi called out for them. For the first time, Keat could see why they were calling them 'The Ambiguous Lover'. Where previously he had only seen a stunningly beautiful woman, with a lean build and soft features, Hishi was currently wearing less flattering clothes, a simple robe of the kind the dornishmen often wore. Their hair was oiled back and they wore neither jewellery nor cosmetics, an almost jarring change from their usual appearance. If not for the warm, smooth voice, Keat would have. Their smile, however, was the same as always, bright and charming. “I was about to send some of my men out for you”, Hishi purred. “Glad you made it. You already owe me enough” They stopped in front of Keat, mustering him from head to toe. “Your debt to me has increased nonetheless”, they added. “I just negotiated a deal with Efram Forrester. Consider your debt to him void” Though their smile was charming and genuine, Hishi's eyes were sharp and cunning. Keat placed one hand on his chest and hinted at a slight bow, much to their delight. “Thank you for your kindness”, he mumbled, but Hishi shook their head. “How could I not reward you for acquiring such a wonderful crew for me?”, they asked. “Your little friend arrived here earlier, the one with the delightful name... Rose, wasn't it?” “So, you and her reached an agreement?”, Keat asked, as Hishi led him through one of the doors, into a small office. It was not even nearly as lavishly furnished as the rest of the Thousand Shades of Flowers, a fairly mundane room, one of its walls entirely covered by a large drawer full of papers. “Of course I did”, Hishi replied. “What she offered is too valuable for me, so I was quite willing to pay any price for it. With that on the table, she was quick to accept” With these words, Hishi glanced at Nicola as if they just now noticed him. “And you brought me the acrobat as well”, they exclaimed as they extended a hand. Nicola hesitated for a moment, before he shook it. “Nicola Sand... my... lord?”, he introduced himself and Hishi chuckled. “It'll do for now”, they replied. “Usually I'd ask you to keep animals out of my establishment, but this one is remarkably well-trained if my sources are correct” “His name is Fabul”, Nicola clarified and the monkey bared its teeth as it heard its name, perhaps a bizarre grin or perhaps a warning. Hishi, for one, seemed greatly amused and without fear. “And as long as you cut us the same deal you cut Keat here, we can do whatever you need from us” Hishi smirked. “Bold words”, they replied. “We'll see if you live up to them once I fill you in on the details” With this, Hishi turned back to Keat. “Now... dear Keat, what a job you did, assembling your group for my heist. You even found unexpected help in the form of Rose... I have to admit, I am impressed”, they complimented him. “Erik already told me about the troubles you went through with Vivielia” Now, the smirk on Hishi's face grew decidedly more amused. “Another thing I am impressed with. Both sisters at the same time... how delightfully repulsive of you”, they added. “I am surprised she agreed to help at all, but you seem to have a way with words” “And the promise of your coin, I think that did the trick”, Keat added, leading Hishi to laugh out loud. “That as well, my dear, that as well”, they replied. Their smile was mischievous and decidedly feminine, but the look in Hishi's eyes was stern and cautious, something he had seen only in men so far. “The next step of my plan will be a meeting with a silent benefactor. I want you there as well, while Samuel here can gather your team. After the meeting you will fill them in” “A silent benefactor?”, Keat growled. “Give me a name, Hishi, I don't like surprises” The Ambiguous Lover merely shrugged. “Oh, but I love them”, they replied. “And I'm afraid I'm the one calling the shots here, so be patient. You will meet him soon enough, but aside from me and Lanford, you will be the only one ever knowing about their involvement, have I made myself clear” Their voice was lower now and colder and Keat could only nod. “Clear”, he confirmed. Immediately, Hishi's smile returned. “Excellent”, they spoke. “If there is nothing else, I would like to finalize my contract with Nicola here” They glanced at Nicola. “I am certain you will find my offer most satisfying”, they added. Samuel nodded and turned to the door, but Keat lingered a little while longer. “Is there anything else, Keat?” This could be a chance. Hishi was in a good mood, as far as he could tell and he would rather want this to be over with as fast as possible. If there was anyone aside from the Inchfield cousins in all of Oldtown who could know the truth, it had to be Hishi. Perhaps now would be the best chance to learn more about Erik, perhaps even to learn if Gerald's accusations were true. At the same time, he hesitated. Hishi was bright and affable, yet they knew how to twist a situation to their favour. Keat was already in their debt more than enough, certainly more than he was comfortable with. As such, he was not sure if he should go through with this, if he should drag Hishi into this, or if he should rather hope for a better opportunity, perhaps through Erik himself. [Ask Hishi about Erik] [Don't ask Hishi about Erik]
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Post by diversegnu on Aug 4, 2021 9:24:43 GMT
[Tell Sasha to remain on guard] [Ask Hishi about Erik]
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Post by InGenNateKenny on Aug 5, 2021 6:28:53 GMT
[Tell Sasha to calm down] Hostility is not good. Got to do some reverse psychology. They expect you to be on guard, so do the opposite.
[Don't ask Hishi about Erik] Being in debt is bad. Besides, how bad can Erik really be? We need some tension on the heist crew anyhow.
Well, three thoughts. 1) Oh yeah, they don't know Richard died. 2) You really trust Jenna to do anything? 3) So far 1/4 on the not trusting people being accurate.
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Post by drdestroyer18 on Aug 6, 2021 12:32:54 GMT
[Tell Sasha to remain on guard] [Don't ask Hishi about Erik]
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Post by GMS Freeman on Aug 6, 2021 13:03:03 GMT
[Tell Sasha to remain on guard]
[Ask Hishi about Erik]
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Post by Resident Lychee on Aug 8, 2021 19:14:54 GMT
[Tell Sasha to calm down]
[Don't ask Hishi about Erik]
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Post by LiquidChicagoTed on Aug 22, 2021 16:03:16 GMT
[Tell Sasha to calm down] Hostility is not good. Got to do some reverse psychology. They expect you to be on guard, so do the opposite. [Don't ask Hishi about Erik] Being in debt is bad. Besides, how bad can Erik really be? We need some tension on the heist crew anyhow. Well, three thoughts. 1) Oh yeah, they don't know Richard died. 2) You really trust Jenna to do anything? 3) So far 1/4 on the not trusting people being accurate. That is true, Samantha and Sasha left Raylansfair for Southshield before the end of Chapter 1, so they have no idea that Richard is dead. Not that they were particularly close or anything, but he was very much an important part of their little resistance movement against Petyr and Maron. To be fair, she was instrumental in bringing all the people with a grudge against Mullendore together in the first place, by smuggling Leonard out of the keep, by winning Saerya's trust and by having Vali spy on her, which inevitably led to him stumbling upon their meeting at Richard's farm. So, while not even Jenna would trust herself with doing anything (though she's gotten a lot better in terms of confidence), Samantha and Sasha have only seen what was arguably her most important contribution against Maron to date. Fun fact: the one person who has absolutely proven himself to be untrustworthy on that list is Alan, who hasn't even done anything bad by the time Samantha and Sasha left for Southshield, so she has included him here just because he left that bad of an impression. Sasha is an impulsive person and her gut feeling is wrong just about as often as it is right, but had anyone listened to her and kept Alan as far away from their meetings as possible, Richard would have survived. As for the rest, Kersea should have proven where she stands by now and Sasha is plain wrong in her distrust against her (though by no means unjustified in it), but Saerya and Arianna each have their own agenda at it remains to be seen how long (if at all) it will align with Samantha's goals.
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Post by LiquidChicagoTed on Aug 22, 2021 16:25:49 GMT
The Voting is closed!
Samantha is going to tell Sasha to remain on guard
Keat is not going to ask Hishi about Erik One of these choices was a very wise one, the other perhaps not so much, depending on some of your future choices. Can't say which one, of course, but one of them was definitely a good one Not to say the other option will definitely lead to disaster, but that will entirely depend on your future choices. The next part will hopefully be out by tomorrow. Unfortunately, my SSD broke down a few days ago (for no discernible reason at all, it was merely a year old and I otherwise had no problems with it whatsoever ) and while I got it fixed two days ago, I lost a lot of unsaved data, including one pre-written FoT part I've been saving for later. That one included PoV's for Sadie and Willfred and I really don't feel like writing the same thing again right after losing it. Some general notes for the chapter have also been lost, but they are less consequential, as I have them memorized. So, I'll first write a new part and see if I can rewrite the lost part to my full satisfaction at a later point, maybe after the next one. The new part will include PoV's for Garthon and Kyra, who are both going to have some of the longer storylines in this chapter. Last time we saw Garthon was in the first part of this chapter. Back then, he visited Torvin Hale in the dungeons of Raventree Hall. During his conversation with Petyr Blackwood's father-in-law, he realized that Torvin was most certainly not the traitor Maurice considers him to be, but that his suspiciously shaky memory and occasional odd behaviour can be explained by Torvin suffering from early-stage Alzheimer's. Of course, the disease is not known by name in Westeros and barely any respectable research has been done about it, but the symptoms are of course widely known and Garthon recognized them. Considering Torvin's behaviour as genuine, he decide that something had to be done to free him. On his way out of the dungeons, he ran into Mariya Piper, who has come to the same conclusion. The two decided to team up there, with Mariya mentioning that to actually free Torvin without having to break him out of prison, they'd have to gain the aid of either Lord or Lady Blackwood, with the former being the more powerful ally, while the latter would be more likely to help them in proving her father's innocence. Garthon decided to go straight to Lord Blackwood, however, seeing Petyr as the more important man to convince. Meanwhile, Kyra was on her way to Raventree Hall, alongside Harndon Hoare and his army. There has been some tension between her and Harndon, both in the past and in the present, with Gravven outright urging her to take command for herself, rightfully considering her to be the better leader. Meanwhile, the infamous Riverlander turncoat Velmont Redloon, who has been a repeated nuisance to Garthon in Book 1, has joined the Ironborn host and has quickly wormed himself into Harndon's good graces with empty flattery. Where Gravven is encouraing Kyra to step up as the leader her soldiers need, Velmont is sucking up to Harndon, encouraging some of his worst traits and his rivalry with Kyra. She and the prince had a confrontation one night at camp, where Harndon basically ordered her to reaffirm her loyalty to him and to House Hoare. Kyra then either had the option to assure him she'll follow his orders or tell him to get lost, with her choosing the first option, hoping for a more diplomatic outcome.
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Post by LiquidChicagoTed on Aug 26, 2021 1:57:11 GMT
Kyra The rain continued to pour down on the Ironborn for the better part of the week. At the end of the second day, spirits were down and not even Kyra herself could face the weather with a smile on her face. At the end of the third, a dozen men had deserted, only half of which were found by Gravven's patrol unit. Their screams, echoing through camp as Harndon Hoare and Velmont Redloon took turns punishing them, did little with improving the already crumbling morale of this hastily assembled Ironborn army. By the fourth day, Kyra had to admit that they had a problem. The men were dragging themselves forward, grumbling and cursing, not just the Storm God that had conjured this weather down upon them, but also their king for sending them on this path to begin with. With Harren being absent, most of the anger was directed at his lackwit son, the one who relentlessly pushed onwards through this terrible weather. For once, Kyra could see why Harndon was doing so. They could make camp here in the woods, perhaps even build some shelter from the rain, but then they'd just sit and wait, possibly for days. Their supplies would dwindle, what little protection they could gather from the elements would soak and slowly crumble. Kyra would have still tried her luck with waiting for better weather, but Harndon's decision had been well-considered. That, more than anything, pointed at Velmont Redloon's handiwork. Cowardly as he was, the Riverlander was no fool and his advice was surprisingly sound. Still, this march would take its toll, not just on the morale, but on their equipment too. This was not just a small host to fight a field battle, no, they had been sent to besiege a castle. Raventree Hall was not the Twins or Riverrun and unlike those two she had never seen it for herself, but it was nonetheless supposed to be one of the sturdier fortifications in the Riverlands. Harndon seemed confident they could take Lord Blackwood by surprise, but Kyra was not so sure. Worse, the rain had taken a toll on their equipment, ruining wood and rope meant to build siege engines. They could possibly find new materials near the castle itself, but that would take time and stretch their already dwindling forces even thinner. It was at the dawn of the fifth day since her confrontation with Harndon when the rain cleared, if just a little bit. The men erupted into cheers as the sun broke through the heavy clouds and Kyra had to hold her tongue not to join in. With Harndon and Velmont riding up front, she was keeping order in the centre, while Gravven had been sent to the rear with two dozen heavily armoured men, all loyal to House Drumm. She had barely seen him over the course of the last few days, nor had there been the chance to catch up with any of the numerous Greyjoy raiders that were accompanying their host. Kyra was not one to feel lonely, but as they took a small break around noon, to dry their soaked belongings, she would have at least appreciated a familiar face around, someone who wasn't Harndon or any of his cronies. And yet, she couldn't just mingle with the men right now. She was not their companion and this was not a simple raid. They were off to a siege and she was their commanding officer. If Gravven could be believed, which he usually could, then most of these men looked up to her for leadership, for guidance, more than they ever would to the madman their king had actually put in charge. Right now, what these men needed was not another comrade to drink with and be merry, but someone who could actually keep things disciplined and well-organized. As such, she walked around camp doing what was expected of her. A few words of encouragement here, some advice there. It would be a short rest, used mostly for the hunters to gather supplies from the local woods and for the scouts to check the area ahead. They were close to Blackwood's land now and where past Lords of Raventree Hall had kept the rivers in check with a complicated system of dams, it had fallen into disrepair ever since Hardhand and his men marched through. A lot of coin would be needed to repair and maintain the road and the surrounding dams, but most of the coin was needed to fund King Harren's castle. A small merchant caravan would have little trouble manoeuvring across the road ahead, but an army already soaked to the bone would be further pushed to its limits without proper scouting. There was irony here, to think that Harren's merciless taxes would now impede his ability to wage war against his unruly bannerman, but Kyra was not in the position to appreciate it. She was just finished with organizing some of the men to check up on the wagons and fix them if necessary, when she noticed that she wasn't walking alone, catching movement out of the corner of her eyes. Someone wasn't keeping his distance as the other men did, instead slowly approaching her through the masses of resting Ironborn. With narrowed eyes, Kyra turned towards him and she did not relax as she recognized Drevyn Pyke. “Captain”, he greeted her, giving her the slightest of nods. She replied in kind. “Can I help you, Drevyn?”, she asked, giving him a sign to accompany her, as she continued to walk down the line of wagons that carried their weapons and armour. Drevyn shrugged. “I was hoping so, at least”, he replied. “I... know we haven't exactly started off on the right foot, me having that quarrel with your best man and all...” “You're by no means the only man who has a problem with Gravven”, Kyra assured him. “If I'd involve myself in all of his disputes, I'd hardly have any friends left” Drevyn flashed her a grin. “Yet I wager I'm the first who actually made up with him”, he stated. “You kinda helped with that. Another captain would have restrained either of us or even both, but you let us sort it out on our own” “I take it you came to an agreement then?”, Kyra asked, carefully hiding her surprise as she spoke. Gravven was a fine raider and a true friend, but he could be crass and prone to violence. It had taken her several raids to warm up to him and she would not judge anyone for not getting along with her second-in-command. Drevyn struck her as having a similar temper and it genuinely surprised her to hear his words. “Yeah, of sorts”, Drevyn replied. “Gravven actually approached me, wanted to sort things out between us. Guess your words must have rubbed off on him. He suggested a brawl, but I'm no fool. No way I'm testing my strength against that ox” He flashed her a quick, ugly grin. “So I suggested the finger dance and he accepted” He raised both of his hands, revealing several familiar scars, all of them old and faded, but not one missing appendage. “And though he fought well, no one can beat me when it comes to the dance” Kyra's expression darkened. “Is Gravven alright?”, she asked and Drevyn gave her a quick nod. “He got himself a nasty cut on his palm, but he kept his fingers. I wager he'll be fine again in no time”, he replied. “We spent the rest of the night drinking and while I wouldn't call us friends now, we've reached an understanding. And well, he got me thinking...” They stopped, briefly, to let a few men carrying heavy sacks of food pass. “About what?”, she asked and Drevyn glanced over his shoulder. “First things first, a fair warning”, he growled. “Harndon Hoare's been looking for you, alongside his Riverlander snake” Kyra rolled her eyes. “Ain't that fucking great...”, she muttered beneath her breath. “Thanks for the heads up” She glanced around, looking for any sign of Harndon and Velmont, but with the camp being crowded as it was, she could not spot them. In return, however, they surely would have to look hard to find her as well. “What else is on your mind?”, she added. “I've been thinking about what Gravven told me, about what I've seen for myself during this march”, Drevyn told her. “Drumm might be an arse, but his loyalty to you is a rare kind. Says as much about him as it does about you. It's going to be one hell of a siege and if we succeed it won't be because of that mad princeling, but because of you. The king will have no choice but to honour it once we return. I figure in that case I offer my service. Try to make myself invaluable to the hero who is going to take Raventree Hall” His words were calm, precise and well-spoken, so much in fact that they gave Kyra some pause. Back in Harrenhal, Drevyn and Gravven had been at each other's throat and while she didn't know the former very well, he seemed easy to anger, hot-headed and impulsive. At the same time, his words seemed entirely genuine, which really only left her with one conclusion. “Did your captain speak some sense into you?”, she asked and Drevyn let out a loud laugh. “Aye, sharp of you to notice”, he confirmed. “Captain Smyte is a good man. He gave me a chance when no one else would have taken me into their crew and I owe him for it. So, when he told me to work with you, it got me thinking. It got me to look at what you're doing here” “And what did you see?”, Kyra asked, casually inspecting one of the wagons as they walked past it. Drevyn shrugged. “Honestly, you're the one keeping this whole operation together”, he told her. “You've got a good head on your shoulders. Not too prideful either. Took guts, kneeling to the princeling a few days ago. I wouldn't have done the same, but you made the right call. Can't get on Harndon's bad side” Kyra's expression darkened. “Speaking of...”, she hissed, as she spotted Harndon Hoare making his way through the crowd, with Velmont Redloon close behind him. The prince had seen her as well, no doubt about it, for he was heading right towards her. “You want to work with me then?”, she asked and Drevyn gave her a nod. “I've never disappointed Captain Smyte and if you give me the chance, I'll make myself invaluable to you”, he told her. She carefully mustered him. He was a bastard, literally at that, but Kyra cared little for his parentage. Though not as tall and strong as Gravven, he seemed like a capable fighter nonetheless and though she knew about his hot temper, Ragnar Smyte had spoken well of him. “Perhaps you will, Pyke”, she spoke. “Perhaps you will...” Before she could continue, Harndon Hoare had reached her at last. “Lamb Kyra!”, he exclaimed, loud enough for the surrounding men to notice. Velmont shot her a dirty grin behind his prince's back and Kyra glared at him in return. “My prince”, she greeted him, noticing that Drevyn remained standing by her side when he could have easily faded into the background by now. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” Even this simple question seemed to catch Harndon off guard. “Pleasure?”, he asked. “There's no pleasure here. We're at war and I...” He glanced over his shoulder at Velmont, who gave him a nod. “I want to take counsel with my officers. You in particular, Greyjoy” His deranged smile returned. “You're going to like this, I promise” Somehow, Kyra knew that she'd hate it already. “Spit it out, Hoare”, she growled. Immediately, Harndon's smile faded and beneath her brief glare of anger, he seemed genuinely scared of her. “I... it's...”, he stuttered, before he collected himself. “Garthon Breaker...” Kyra clenched her fists, but she knew better than to show any weakness in front of the prince. “What about him?”, she asked. Harndon took a step away from her, bumping into Velmont right behind him. He glanced over his shoulder and the Riverlander began to speak. “Our king has sent us not only to take Raventree Hall, but also to confirm Garthon Breaker's whereabouts. Rell Vessels claims to have seen him die at Tedyn Bullister's hands, but my source within the keep says otherwise”, he explained. Kyra raised an eyebrow. “You mean Harrick's source”, she clarified. Though Velmont would undoubtedly like to see himself as the king's invaluable spymaster, he was little more than a glorified snitch. Harrick had made all the effort to recruit and, more importantly, pay the various spies he had placed across the Riverlands. “Does it matter?”, Velmont asked. “Fact is, my source is not entirely trustworthy. There have been errors within the reports we received from Raventree Hall in the past. It would be a fairly massive error, but nothing is impossible when it comes to this situation” “Can we trust the source?”, Kyra asked and Velmont shook his head. “In my honest opinion? Not in the slightest”, he replied. “Which is why I have offered to confirm this information myself” He actually caught her off guard with this suggestion and Harndon's smile returned to his puffy face as he noticed Kyra's surprise. “You mean entering Raventree Hall?”, she asked and Velmont gave her a nod. “I've grown up in the area, been to the castle before. I'll sneak in, confirm Breaker's identity and see if I can find a way to sabotage their defences. I'll be in and out within a few days at most, doing more damage to the keep than our entire army could do in a fortnight of siege” That... was actually a reasonable suggestion, surprisingly so. That's what made it so suspicious. “And what do you want to hear from me about it, Prince Harndon?”, she asked. Harndon's smile widened as she addressed him by his title. “Your honest opinion”, he told her. “You stand beneath me, we both made that clear last time we spoke. That means you can advise me now. Perhaps I'll even listen to you” Now it all made sense, not why Velmont was suggesting it, but why Harndon was picking up on it so quickly. He enjoyed being in power, more even than his oldest brother for whom the act of dominating someone held a decidedly perverse pleasure. Perhaps he realized, deep down, how inadequate he was, how weak and pathetic. She could see how much joy he took from the thought that she was now standing beneath him, that she had to advise him like a lowly courtier would advise a lord. And yet, she could only sigh, for this was not the time to break this little illusion of his. She would have told him off in Harrenhal, but the last she or any of those men needed out here was a fight between the two of them. As such, she bit her tongue. “My... opinion?”, she asked and she glared right past the sneering prince and at Velmont Redloon. “Alright, what is this about?”, she hissed. “There's no way you would place yourself in harm's way, so there has to be a catch!” Redloon seemed almost insulted for a second, but she caught the dark look in his eyes. “And why would you think there's a catch?”, he asked, but his defence was a weak one and he immediately cracked. “But fine, so be it. I have a score to settle in Raventree. A debt to collect, so to say, a monumental one at that. I'll go to take what is mine as much as I go to help our king and his son” “That's me”, Harndon giggled, entirely without necessity. “So, what do you say? It's a good idea, isn't it? I came up with a good plan!” Somehow, she doubted that Harndon did more than just repeating the thoughts Velmont had been feeding him all day. He was still the boy she had first met over a decade ago, the boy from the rain-soaked cliffside. Childish, impulsive, a born follower with violence in his heart. But she was no longer the scared little lamb and she could see right through him and whatever game Velmont was playing here. It was a reasonable suggestion. Sending someone to scout ahead, someone who knew the land on top of that... but the fact that it came from Velmont, that he so freely offered to go himself made her suspicious. “Perhaps someone else would be a better option?”, she asked and Velmont chuckled. “What, you want to send your Gravven?”, he asked. “Please, that man has salt water running through his veins. Even a blind man would recognize him as Ironborn” Another good point, much as she hated to admit it. Gravven was strong, sturdy, the very image of an Ironborn raider. On top of that, infiltrating a keep was not his one of his talents. But before she could reply, her gaze fell upon Drevyn Pyke. A bit leaner and shorter than Gravven, clean-shaven and with grey eyes that hinted at distant northern ancestry instead of a pureblooded Ironborn heritage. He could pass as a somewhat rugged, but otherwise decent Riverlander. On top of that, he just offered his aid. This could be a chance to prove his worth, to win her trust. At the same time, perhaps she was expecting too much of a man whose talents she barely even knew of. Perhaps Velmont was indeed the best choice, though unlike Drevyn, whom she was willing to give the benefit of the doubt, she would never make the mistake of trusting the Riverlander in the slightest. This was one of his schemes and she was not sure she wanted to play her part in it at all. In that case, perhaps it would be best not to give him the chance to enact his little plan. Perhaps she should advise Harndon against sending anyone... if only he'd listen... [Advise him to send Velmont] [Advise him to send Drevyn] [Advise him against sending anyone]
Garthon Petyr Blackwood looked up as Garthon entered the room. His tired expression softened as the two men locked eyes and he leant back in his chair. “Ah, Garthon!”, he greeted him. “Take a seat, please” He offered one of the two chairs on the other side of his desk and Garthon sat down as he had been told. Briefly, he caught a glimpse of the letters on Lord Blackwood's desk and the familiar seal on them. “House Tully sends their regards?”, he asked and Petyr gave him a nod. “After your advice, I've wasted no time to get into contact with Edmyn”, the lord confirmed. “I never wanted to get involved with him after what happened last year, but you made me rethink that stance. He remains our best hope for a united Riverlands, so... guess we all have to swallow our pride for that, don't we?” He placed one hand on the letter. “Edmyn has already replied”, he revealed. “Cordially. I am invited to meet with him and the other Riverlords in his keep at Riverrun” Garthon glanced at the letter again. “How many are going to come?”, he asked and now, Petyr couldn't contain a smile. “All of them”, he replied. All of them... there was strength among the Riverlords, honour and integrity, enough manpower to even force the tyrant to his knees. So far, their only flaw had been their lack of unity. There was bad blood between the Riverlords, something every successful ruler of the Riverlands had used against them, be it the Durrandon kings of old or Harwyn Hardhand. Even Harren was still in power solely because some of the Riverlords hated each other even more than they hated him. If they could rally behind one leader, send their troops against the scattered Ironborn forces... perhaps they had an actual chance. “I want you to know, this wouldn't have been possible without you and your brother”, Petyr stated. “Your arrival here has shown me that there is still hope. Something worth fighting for beyond the borders of my home. For this, I will be forever in your debt. Whatever you desire, name it and if it is within my power, you shall have it” Garthon shook his head. “I desire no reward from you, mylord”, he stated firmly. His words took Petyr by surprise. The Lord of Raventree Hall looked at him for a moment, calm at first, then with clear joy on his face. “Then you shall have no reward”, he replied. “Aside from friendship freely given. I want you to know that when all of this is done, you will have a place here in Raventree Hall” He extended one hand and Garthon firmly shook it. “I'll be honoured to count you among my friends”, he replied. “And when this is over... perhaps I'll stay, mylord” “Petyr”, the lord clarified and Garthon gave him a nod. “Petyr”, he confirmed. They both leant back in their chair, as the Lord of Raventree Hall glanced down at the letter again. “Though let us save the celebrations for later, after we have dealt with Edmyn's demands, after we have actually freed ourselves from the tyrant”, he added. “But enough of future celebrations and of the grim war to come. What led you to my study today?” There was no point in beating around the bush here and Garthon's expression darkened immediately. “Your father-in-law”, he revealed. Petyr's smile faded and for a brief moment, he looked old again and tired, as he had looked back when Garthon first arrived in Raventree Hall. “Torvin...”, he sighed. “If you are concerned about any bad blood between us, I can assure you this is not the case. I know you were only trying to help. Still... to think that my own father-in-law would betray us... I've known him for longer than I knew my real father. He was... is family. At the same time, I can't just ignore the evidence Maurice brought up” “That's the problem here...”, Garthon mumbled. “Maurice and Torvin, they don't get along, do they?” Petyr shook his head. “They never did”, he confirmed. “You know, Maurice has been the one to save my firstborn son, Walder. Without him, I would have never been able to smuggle my boy across the border and I have considered him a dear friend ever since. Torvin however, he never warmed up to him. They have different ways of handling things, with Torvin being straightforward and honourable, whereas Maurice was the man I relied on whenever I needed... underhanded methods” He clenched his fists above his desk. “At least that's what I thought to be the case. Now Torvin is in my dungeons as a traitor” “I've spoken to him”, Garthon revealed. “And so should you. Maurice's evidence... I think he's overlooking something here, probably because he wants Torvin to be guilty” He gave Petyr a long, stern look. “Torvin is getting senile. I've seen it before, you've seen it before, it happens with old age. Some remain sharp their entire lives, some gradually lose their wits as they age. I've spoken to Torvin in the dungeons and... I don't think it was an act” To Petyr's credit, the lord listened to him honestly and seemed to genuinely consider those words. “I... it's true that Torvin has become a bit... odd over the last few years. Lost in thoughts, more forgetful than before. But he never mentioned actual memory loss”, he mumbled. “It might make sense, Seven know I want it to make sense, but it all seems a bit too convenient, don't you think so? All this time he's acting as if everything's fine, but the moment Maurice and you confront him with evidence, he suddenly cannot remember anything?” “He strikes me as a proud man”, Garthon replied. “The kind that won't seek help or even admit that there's a problem. I've known men who struggled with their issues for many years until they were swallowed whole instead of seeking help from their loved ones. If this is the case... don't you think you owe it to Torvin to consider a different approach?” “I do...”, Petyr admitted. “Evelyne asked me to release him, she begged me to and when I refused, she screamed at me until her voice cracked... it's the most serious fight we ever had in over two decades of marriage. She'd believe you in a heartbeat, but I... I am responsible for this keep and its people. If there is any chance that Torvin is guilty, I cannot just set him free” “And if there's any chance that he's innocent, it means the real traitor is still running free”, Garthon argued. Petyr gave him a tired nod. “Aye, that is true”, he admitted. “You and Maurice have both been so certain about it when you imprisoned him, for everyone to see. That makes things a bit more difficult for me. If I just let him go now, it would weaken my authority. It would embolden the true culprit, regardless of wether it's Torvin or someone else entirely” “Then allow me to look into it”, Garthon offered. “Me and Lady Piper, we've reached an agreement. She doesn't believe in Torvin's guilt either. Maurice did a fine job with tracking down the traitor, but his hatred for your father-in-law prevents him from seeing that there might be more to it. With Mariya's aid and your blessing, we can investigate further” Petyr's eyes widened and a hopeful smile appeared on his face. “Lady Piper will support you with this?”, he asked. “Then I shall do the same. I won't free Torvin until you've given me hard evidence in his favour, but I'll permit your investigation. Go with my blessing and... if Torvin is truly innocent, I want you to come to me at once. If he is the traitor, then his life is forfeit, but if he's innocent, I have to make amends, with him and Evelyne both” Garthon gave him a nod, as he rose from his chair. “I'll be back as soon as I learn anything”, he promised. He already turned around and was almost at the door when Petyr called out for him again. “Garthon, one more thing”, he spoke and the Ironborn glanced at him over his shoulder. “You have seemed to certain back when Maurice imprisoned him. Why... why the sudden change of heart?” “I've made a mistake”, Garthon admitted and actually speaking these words out aloud was more difficult than he had thought. “Surely you know the desire to make up for one's mistakes” He sighed. “I've made plenty in my time... this might be the first I can actually fix” He and Petyr looked at each other for a moment and this time, it was the Lord of Raventree Hall who looked away first. “I understand”, he stated. “I've felt the same in the past, more times than I dare to count. So be it then. Go with my blessing and fix your mistake, if there was one to begin with” Garthon left the lord's study with a lightened conscience, but his mood soured almost immediately as he looked down the dark hallway. A lone figure was standing there, sturdy and pot-bellied, leaning against the wall and glaring at him. “How much have you heard?”, he asked and Maurice stepped from the shadows. “Enough”, the other man growled. “The walls are not as thick as you may think” Garthon tried to walk past him and to his surprise, Maurice actually stepped aside, but he couldn't prevent him from following him. “And what do you think you were doing just there?”, Maurice hissed. “Undermining months of hard work! Suggesting that I made a mistake!” Garthon glanced at him, more annoyed than angry. “Are you above making mistakes, Maurice?”, he asked. The Riverlander scoffed at his words. “Don't act so high and mighty, Garthon Breaker”, he replied, his tone still sharp. “I've double checked all of my evidence. You've trusted me enough to work with me back then, so where did your doubts come from?” Garthon shrugged. “I've spoken to Torvin”, he replied. “And... have you even visited him in the dungeons? The man's scatter-brained and pitiful and entirely harmless” Now, an ugly sneer appeared on Maurice's face. “That's what makes him so damn dangerous”, he replied. “I never liked him and even I was surprised what my investigation brought up. He lulled you in with that weak old man act. Or was it the Piper bitch who... convinced you? I know you've agreed to work with her behind my back” “You wouldn't have approved”, Garthon stated and Maurice gave him a firm nod. “You're damn right I wouldn't have!”, he spat. “Pretty little Lady Piper would do better just minding her own damn business and you... I honestly thought we could work together! I couldn't have caught Torvin without you and now you act as if you've never been on board with it” “I have”, Garthon clarified. “That's what makes it so much worse. I honestly believed in Torvin's guilt, but now... Maurice, we need to consider that the real traitor is still out there” Maurice shook his head. “No, we do not”, he replied. “I wouldn't have made my move against Torvin without a foolproof case and honestly, I'm fucking livid that some Ironborn and a little girl think they know better than me” “Oh, get over it, Maurice”, Garthon growled. “Just try to see things from our perspective for a moment...” They've reached a set of stairs that would lead down into the courtyard and Garthon stopped. He could just walk away from this argument. There was no need to pick a fight with Maurice, but by the Drowned God, the Riverlander wasn't making it easy for him. “I did”, Maurice clarified. “Piper is a naïve little girl who thinks she's smart enough to do proper men's work. But you... you're just a sentimental cunt, aren't you? I know what happened in Raylansfair. You abandoned your own brother, didn't you?” Garthon stopped dead in his tracks and as he glanced over his shoulder, he shot Maurice a glare unlike any other. “What did you just say?”, he growled. “You heard me”, Maurice replied. “The guilt must be too much, thinking about your brother every waking moment... but now there's another Torvin, someone who needs your help. Against all reason, against all of my bloody hard work, you dig into that wishful thought that somehow this Torvin is innocent, that somehow he can be saved” He shook his head. “It won't absolve you, Breaker” “Fuck you”, Garthon hissed and he took a quick step towards Maurice, who remained standing. For a moment, the two men glared at each other, before Garthon took a deep breath. He was better than this. He had to be better than this. Nothing good would come from picking a fight with Maurice. “There's no need for us to fight”, he sighed. “Indeed there is not”, Maurice agreed. “We both want the same thing, I truly believe that. But where I don't let my personal feelings cloud my judgement, you're getting all teary-eyed the moment this old traitor tells you his sob story” There was anger in his eyes but it stood no chance against the cold fury on Garthon's face. He only barely held back right now, not out of any sympathy for Maurice, but because he knew that a fight would benefit no one. “What do you want to hear from me?”, he growled. “We both made a mistake when it comes to Torvin, but I'm going to fix it, with or without your aid” An ugly sneer appeared on Maurice's face. “You haven't been here for long enough to notice, but in Raventree Hall, nothing gets fixed without me”, he stated. “You think there's more to it, that there's another traitor, perhaps you even think that Torvin is truly innocent” He shrugged. “Maybe you're right, I'm no clairvoyant. But one way or the other, you are going to need my aid” “And your approval, right?”, Garthon added, to which Maurice gave him an unashamed nod. “I told you, we both want the same thing”, he repeated. “I thought of you as an ally, but the moment you get doubts, you team up with the Piper bitch and you go behind my back to discredit my work in front of Lord Petyr” He took a step towards him now. “We can start over, you and I, but first I believe you owe me an apology” Garthon's eyes widened. “You cannot be serious!”, he spat. Maurice's smirk widened and he slammed one finger against Garthon's chest. “And what if I am?”, he growled. “I've accepted you here, included you in my most important operation in years, I trusted you and you bloody betrayed me. Worse, you think you somehow know better than me, you and Mariya fucking Piper!” He shook his head. “So yeah, I am dead serious when I say that I expect a bloody apology from you”, he hissed. “At least if you want my aid ever again. And I'm warning you, here in Raventree Hall, nothing gets done without my aid” There was anger within Garthon now, a searing rage of the likes he hadn't felt in a long time. A decade ago, he would have already been atop of Maurice now, beating him senseless. But he was no longer that man. He took pride in his calm mind, in being more of a thinker than a fighter. Even Torvin had never understood him when it came to this, but it was simply who he was. And he understood that Maurice was an important ally to have or a dangerous enemy to make... [Apologize to Maurice] [Escalate the argument] [Walk away from him]
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Post by drdestroyer18 on Aug 26, 2021 9:13:34 GMT
[Advise him to send Drevyn] [Apologize to Maurice]
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Post by diversegnu on Aug 28, 2021 21:14:07 GMT
[Advise him to send Drevyn] [Escalate the argument] No, Fuck Maurice. The smart thing would be to walk away, but fuck that guy.
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Post by InGenNateKenny on Aug 30, 2021 3:54:24 GMT
[Advise him against sending anyone] Gotta a bad feeling about this.
[Walk away from him] So tempted to escalate, tempted to apologize. Indecision is a killer. Maurice is a bit of a prick, I kind of like blowing him off. But just how prick-y he is really is hammered home here...although, when you think back, it kind of all makes sense.
Who would have thought this connection would have come in such a dramatic scene?
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Louk
New Member
Posts: 43
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Post by Louk on Sept 1, 2021 3:59:05 GMT
[Advise him to send Drevyn]
[Escalate the argument]
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Post by GMS Freeman on Sept 1, 2021 19:55:34 GMT
[Advise him to send Drevyn] [Escalate the argument]
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Post by nightshroud on Sept 13, 2021 10:31:06 GMT
Oh boy it has been far too long. Hope everyone is doing well through these rough times and staying safe, and I apologize for my absence for the last few years but personal issues and life got in the way. I've been slowly reading the story for the last few weeks trying to catch up as much as I could, but progress has been very slow. I'm glad to see the story is ongoing and still maintained the level of quality that I love. Things sure are heating up in these parts so I'm glad that I can (finally) participate in these votes again.
[Advise him to send Drevyn] Kyra's plotline has certainly taken a turn, for the better in my opinion. This does have a chance of backfiring all things considered but lets just give him a chance and see if it works.
[Escalate the argument] At least Garathon is still around and scheming as he always is. Maurice really does have a stick up his ass so why should Garathon apologize to him? I'm sure Garathon will push all the right buttons, he's quite good at doing that.
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