The Sword of the Night (Nymeria's War Prequel)

If there was one thing that Jamison knew, it was that a person's eyes didn't lie. Anything that he felt he needed to know about someone he could easily discover simply by looking into their eyes. Whether it be where they've been, where they are, or where they are going, a man's eyes tell all things. Of course, there were some shrewd enough to hide the intentions in their gaze, but most men were completely oblivious to this simple truth. Jamison saw himself as someone who not only knew it but had mastered it. At this point, it was merely a game for him to push his opponents to their breaking point and find the worth of their character. He had come to believe that most men weren't worth much, and this current opponent certainly wasn't one to change his mind.

Standing across from the Prince of Starfall was Ser Rodrik Nightfall, one of the newest knights of the Torrentine and someone who was in way over his head. Knighted by his uncle Lord Gerold a few months before Jamison along with being three years older than him, it was said that Rodrik believed himself to be quite skilled with a sword. Jamison had even heard from others that Rodrik called himself the most skilled knight in the kingdom on more than one occasion. Of course, Jamison cared little of what others said and thought little of it until he overheard Rodrik talking to the blacksmith's daughter Aileen boasting about how he could defeat any knight in one on one combat including Jamison himself. Hearing those words come directly from Ser Rodrik's mouth all but forced Jamison to challenge him to a friendly duel. And to Jamison's surprise, Rodrik had accepted the challenge. No doubt the presence of his supposed love when Jamison had put forward the challenge had played a role in Rodrik’s decision.

However, now there were no ladies or handmaidens present, nor were there knights or squires either, it was just Jamison and Rodrik in the training yard. Jamison had no desire to embarrass, at least not this time, he simply wanted to put Rodrik in his place. And maybe the mere fear of embarrassment would be enough to do just that.

"Ser Rodrik," Jamison began calmly, not taking his eyes off of the young knight from Nightfall. "It's not too late to back out, just walk away now. Nothing more will be said of the matter and no harm will come to you. We can write this off as just a misunderstanding. Boys will be boys after all, won't they?"

Ser Rodrik's eyes darted back and forth, in them clear discomfort. He took a deep breath and sighed, but it didn't sound like he was relieved, far from it in fact.

"I'm sorry but I can't do that my prince,” Rodrik muttered sternly. “You challenged me in front of Lady Aileen, my love. I won't dishonor my word to her by backing out now, I have to do this."

Those words brought a knowing smirk to Jamison's face as he did everything he could to suppress himself from laughing. "Hold on Ser, you can't be serious?” he asked with an amused tone. “Have you heard of changing your mind? It’s not that unusual, you know. And another thing, Aileen is far from a lady and I'll just leave it at that."

Shaking his head, Rodrik's nerves started to slowly give way to anger as he did his best to stay composed, making Jamison's smirk to grow even wider.

"My Prince, what would you mean by this? Aileen is a maid, she told me so herself. She can't control that she's of common birth, she can only control her actions and by those, she is nobler than any lady in the kingdoms, my cousins included."

"A maid you say? I'm sorry to have to be the one to tell you this but Aileen is no maid. Far from it in fact."

Those words immediately shook Rodrik and his anger visibly began to grow, the knight looking to almost tear up. "You've been with her."

"Me and half the knights in Starfall. Hells, even my brother Malcolm has been known to share her bed on occasion."

"Lies!" The Nightfall knight shouted, unsheathing his sword. "You won't speak ill of her any longer, I accept your challenge and I won't be held responsible for what happens to you, you arrogant bastard."

These words made Jamison chuckle. "Alright Ser, let's have some fun." With that, Jamison unsheathed "The Darkness" with the blackened steel curved longsword glimmering in the evening sun. For a moment, Ser Rodrik showed fear, taking a step back before halting and taking in a deep breath. He then gripped his own sword tighter and stepped forward again.

Now with both swords unsheathed, they begun to slowly circle one another. Ser Rodrik was clearly focused on the task at hand, and Jamison kept a close eye on his every move. After a short moment, Rodrik swung first slashing upward and immediately slashing downward in one motion. However, both swings hit nothing but air as Jamison moved to the side avoiding his opponent’s blade with ease. Almost immediately Rodrik swung again rapidly left to right and back and forth, showing great speed but not enough strength, leaving Jamison with no troubles to avoid or parry all of the swings. And this was how things went for another minute or so with the smaller knight swinging quickly but recklessly, until Jamison finally decided to strike back. Throwing technique aside, Ser Rodrik now swung wildly at Jamison's head with Jamison sidestepping to the left leaving the perfect opening. With one swift motion Jamison turned his sword over smashing the pommel of the Darkness cleanly against Ser Rodrik's jaw, making the smaller knight stumble to the ground with a thud.

Looking down at the defeated knight brought a smirk to Jamison's face. The Prince walked over to Ser Rodrik and picked up his sword off the ground, gently throwing it off to the side.

"Now, now, Ser Rodrik, is that any way to treat your prince?” He asked with a smirk resting on his face. “This was merely supposed to be a friendly duel with dulled swords and yet you drew actual steel against me. I'm disappointed Ser, I thought you were better than that."

As Ser Rodrik tried to mumble something from the ground, Jamison cut him off. "Lucky for you, I don't get worked up over such things. We had a disagreement and we settled it. It's that simple. Now here, get up and walk away from this duel proudly. I'm not going to brag about defeating you, you weren't any challenge."

With those words, Jamison reached out his hand. After a moment of hesitation Ser Rodrik grabbed his hand and Jamison pulled the smaller knight up and back onto his feet.

"I'm sorry my prince,” Rodrik said with a saddened tone on his voice. “You were just trying to warn me about Aileen, I shouldn’t have taken offense. I will end my affairs with her as soon as I am able." Rodrik began to walk away, but Jamison was quick to stop him.

"Hold on Ser," Jamison said, gesturing for the man to come back over to him. "The things that I said about Aileen weren't true."

"What?"

"The things I said about Aileen weren't true," Jamison repeated. "I can't say for certain if Aileen is a maid or not, but I can promise that I haven't been with her and neither have any of the people that I know, and not for a lack of trying on some of my friend's parts either." The memory of Rickar getting rejected by Aileen surfaced in his mind as he let a slight chuckle.

"But… why did you tell me you had been with her, my Prince?" Ser Rodrik questioned, clearly confused by the whole situation.

"Because of what you have said, Ser,” Jamison answered truthfully. “Ever since you've arrived in Starfall, you have told everyone who would listen that you were the best. Words are wind and because of that I don't usually care what others say. However, I heard say you could defeat me one on one. And for you to say that in my home? That's an insult that I couldn't let stand. It is over now though, and if you keep your mouth shut then this little conflict between us can be left behind. But if I hear of you speaking ill of me again, then I will finish what I started. Do you understand me, Ser?" Jamison asked, a menacing look in his eyes as he stared Ser Rodrik right into his eyes.

"Of course, my Prince. I apologize and you will have no need to worry about me," Rodrik assured with a nervous chuckle.

"Good," Jamison said with a smile. "Now then, I believe you have a certain Blacksmith's daughter to go catch up with?" Rodrik gave a nod before Jamison continued. “If you are going to talk to Aileen then treat her right. She's a very sweet girl and she deserves to be treated accordingly." And with those words, Jamison walked away, leaving Ser Rodrik Nightfall alone in the training grounds of the courtyard.

With that bit of amusement over with, now Jamison had far bigger things to worry about with this next meeting being one that could very well decide his fate for the rest of his days. Having just turned sixteen a short while ago, Jamison had been on top of the world. He was knighted just before his sixteenth birthday and on top of that won his own birthday tournament. Winning the tournament made him quite wealthy on his own and on top of all that it finally gave him the courage to tell Princess Isabella Fowler how he really felt about her. Now with Isabella likely back in Skyreach, he would ask his father to send a raven requesting a betrothal between he and Isabella. He could only hope his father would comply. After having crowned Isabella his Queen of Love and Beauty at the tourney there was no way Vorian could deny that they were meant to be. Along with wanting to marry Isabella, Jamison also craved a more active role in the kingdom’s decision making, but so far his father had always denied him a seat in the council. Now however, Jamison was a man grown and more than ready to take his seat, surely Vorian would see that too.

Walking into the castle, Jamison saw his Uncle Garret walking toward the exit, no doubt having just finished taking part in the council meeting himself. Upon seeing Jamison, Garret waved before being stopped by Jamison himself.

"Uncle, is my father still in his office?" Jamison asked calmly even though he already knew the answer.

"He is," Garret answered with a relaxed tone. "He was just preparing for court when I left, I'm sure he's still in there."

“Alright Uncle, that works well. I have much I need to speak to him about," Jamison said with a smirk, which Garret returned in kind.

"Is that so? Anything I need to know?"

"No, at least not yet," Jamison replied with a slight chuckle.

"Alright well, I suppose I'll leave you to it then," Garret said before walking off and out of the castle with Jamison walking the opposite way himself right toward his father's office.

As he walked, nervous thoughts creeped into his mind. He had to wonder what exactly he would do if Vorian actually denied him of Isabella. There was no way Jamison could see himself taking that well, and for a good reason. It would be an absolute insult, and from his own father no less. Jamison felt confident that he had more than proved himself, but the doubts were still hard to shake.

After a few short moments, he had finally made it to his father's office. Staring at the door, the importance of everything seemed to stick out even more than what it already did but Jamison knew that standing here worrying wouldn't solve anything. So, with a deep breath he opened the door and entered his father's office.

Upon entering his father's office, Jamison was greeted with an all too familiar sight. King Vorian sat at his desk, eyes locked in upon documents of some sort which made Jamison curious but not quite curious enough to ask his father about it. The conversation he was about to have was of the utmost importance and he would not let anything delay it.

"Father," Jamison said courteously giving his father a friendly smile. However, Vorian didn’t even raise his gaze to meet that of his son.

"Jamison," the king muttered curtly after a few seconds, finally raising his eyes from the parchments laying on his desk. "What do you want?" he asked with a mildly annoyed tone.

"Glad to see you as well, father," Jamison responded with a smirk, merely amused by his father's tone. "What makes you think I want something? Am I not allowed to just have a conversation with my father?"

These words softened Vorian's stern frown, a slight smirk even finding its way on his face. "I know you Jamison,” he said, pushing his documents over to the side of his desk. “When you come to my office while I'm working you usually want something. So, let me hear it."

Jamison nodded to his father’s words, took a seat, and leaned back in the chair across from his father's desk. "Well as you know, father, a lot has happened recently. I defeated a rogue hedge knight in one on one combat, earning my knighthood along with being the key to disbanding his little group of thugs that were taking tolls at the borders of our kingdom," Jamison recounted his achievement with great pride, pausing for a moment to wait for Vorian's reaction. His father simply nodded for him to keep going. "And having done that just a week before my sixteenth nameday, I went on to become the champion in my own nameday tourney. I defeated several knights from all over Dorne to win the joust. Desmor Fowler, Uncle Garret, some hedge knight, one of my distant cousins from High Hermitage and my cousin Naemon Blackmont. They all thought they could defeat me, and they all tasted the dirt," Jamison boasted, smiling smugly as he raised a finger for each person he mentioned, thinking back at all of the men who were defeated by him on that day. After a short pause Jamison planned on continuing, but his father decided to speak up.

"Yes son, I am well aware of all your recent triumphs. However, I fail to see what any of this has to do with anything," the King of the Torrentine spoke with a confused tone, giving Jamison a questioning look.

"Well father, those triumphs may not be directly connected to what I am about to ask from you, but I believe they are quite relevant nonetheless," Jamison said with a shrug. "Quite frankly, even at such a young age I don't lack in martial accomplishments already. I am a man grown now, and I am also your son. I am a Prince of Starfall," he put great emphasis on the last words. "The blood of your father and my grandfather King Arthur Dayne, the blood of King Samwell the Starfire and King Sedric the Conqueror of Brimstone all runs through my veins just the same as it does yours. I am your son and I feel that I have earned my seat in the council. My uncle is there, my brother is there and now it is my turn," Jamison spoke with confidence as he looked his father directly in the eyes.

Mere seconds felt like hours as Jamison waited for his father's answer, but when King Vorian did finally speak up it was far from what he wanted to hear. "No," Vorian answered with a sigh, turning his eyes away from Jamison. It was that one word that Jamison had heard far too many times from his father, and he was unable to hide the anger rising within him for being rejected yet again. Admittedly, Jamison had never really pushed back against his father’s decisions before, but much had changed, and he wasn't a boy any longer. He would at the very least find out why his father did not deem him worthy of the council, and as far as Jamison saw it, he'd better have a very good reason for denying him of his rightful seat.

"No, huh? That’s all you’re going to say?” Jamison asked with a frustrated tone. “You gave Malcolm a seat in the council years ago when he was barely more than a child," he argued, raising his arms up in annoyance as he spoke. "What makes my older brother so special to where you feel his advice is worth more than mine?" Jamison questioned, glaring at his father intensely.

"Malcolm is in the council because he has earned it," Vorian stated matter-of-factly, but Jamison rolled his eyes at the mere thought of his older brother having earned anything.

"Earned?” He questioned with an almost mocking tone. “Malcolm hasn't earned anything in his entire life, you've handed him everything while you’ve given me nothing," Jamison retorted sharply, his voice raising ever so slightly as anger began to build up inside of him. "Explain to me how Malcolm earned his seat in the council? I sure would like to hear it."

Vorian remained composed, and as he spoke up his voice did not waver in the slightest. "Malcolm has earned it in many ways, Jamison. From the time he was a child he has been groomed to rule, to be king. He has dedicated his life to learning the arts of politics, diplomacy and scholarship, and on these fronts he is nearly unparalleled. Like your life has been dedicated to the sword, his life has been dedicated to rule. And yes, I have guided him in his journey, because it has been my duty to do so. Someday Malcolm will wear this crown that now sits on my head as it once did on my father's and forefathers’ heads before me. But do not think for one moment that your brother hasn't earned where he is, because he has earned it all and more."

Hearing these words not only made Jamison's anger momentarily subside, but they brought a smirk to his face, which in turn made Vorian narrow his eyes.

"Oh, don't give me that, father," Jamison said with a slight chuckle, “You know as well as I that if you had given me the opportunities that you've given Malcolm I would've excelled to an ever greater degree. Our kingdom needs a strong leader, not a pushover like him. All he does is agree with every word you say. In what world does that make a good king?”

"Quiet!" Vorian raised his voice, his commanding tone immediately silencing Jamison and making him turn his gaze down in shame and disappointment. "You won't speak of your brother in such a manner again. You will give him the respect that he deserves, do you understand me?" Vorian asked strictly, anger still lingering in his voice. Jamison nodded silently, still not looking at his father.

"The things that I have said about Malcolm are all true, but if you really want me to compare the two of you, then compare we shall,” Vorian spoke sternly. “Malcolm is kind, respectful and considerate of others, while you are oftentimes none of those things. He sees the people of this kingdom as people the same as you or I, with a genuine desire to protect them. He wants to help the people that live here, not bring them into needless wars that can only bring them suffering and grief. And he is the one who shall someday rule this kingdom when I pass. I have shown preference toward him in many ways over the years, I admit as much, but that is because he is my firstborn son, and as I’ve made clear the only one of my sons fit to wear this crown." As Vorian stopped speaking his intense gaze pierced through Jamison, as if he had just stuck a sword through his stomach. And in a way that was exactly what Vorian had done.

After all that his father had said, Jamison felt hurt and upset in a way that he hadn't felt in a very long time. While anger certainly boiled within him, disappointment reigned supreme with it being the only emotion that showed on his face. "Alright father, you've made yourself perfectly clear," Jamison muttered with a defeated tone as he finally was able to turn his gaze back to Vorian, who still carried a stern look on his face. "If you believe that I'm not ready to take part in your council at this time then I accept that. But before I go, I have one more thing to ask of you."

"And what might that be?" Vorian asked, shaking his head slightly as he said it.

"After the last joust on my nameday tourney, as I’m sure you remember, I crowned Princess Isabella Fowler as my Queen of Love and Beauty in front of everyone in attendance,” Jamison started with a subtle gulp. “She's been a dear friend of mine for quite a long time, and I truly care for her. Because of this, I request that you please send a raven to Skyreach and ask King Garrison to accept a betrothal between Princess Isabella and I for us to someday wed when the time is right." Jamison spoke with a sincere tone on his voice, looking at his father and praying in his heart of hearts that he would say yes.

The stern and steely face that his father had carried for most of their conversation softened as he listened to Jamison's words, and for just a short moment it made him feel hopeful. However, that moment immediately went away when Vorian shook his head. "I'm sorry Jamison, I truly am, but I cannot accept this request," the King said with genuine regret shining through his stern words.

“Why would you deny me of this?” Jamison asked, his voice equally confused and insulted. “You know how much I care for her, or at least I thought you did," he continued, rubbing his temples in frustration.

Vorian sighed and looked to be at a loss of words for a moment, struggling to keep his calm composure. "I do know how much you care for Princess Isabella, and I am truly sorry,” he assured with an uncharacteristic uncertainty in his words. “However, King Garrison and I have other plans regarding who our children will marry."

Hearing those words immediately made Jamison feel like he had been stabbed again, only not in the stomach this time but through the back. This time there was no room for disappointment, Jamison felt anger and only anger because he knew exactly what his father meant. Without even thinking about it, Jamison stood up from his chair and glared down at his father. "You're lying,” he hissed. “You have to be, please tell me your lying or you're joking or something, please," Jamison pleaded with his father. Vorian looked him in the eyes and took a deep breath.

"It's not set in stone, but Garrison and I have talked about a marriage between Princess Isabella and Malcolm,” he said quietly, a pitying look in his eyes. “It would be for the best. Having his only daughter marry my firstborn and heir would establish a powerful alliance. Combined our kingdoms would be more powerful than any other in Dorne. It would be for the best,” he repeated with a sigh. “I am truly sorry, my son. You might not understand now, but someday you will," Vorian concluded quietly as he stood up from his chair. He stepped closer to Jamison and tried to put a hand on his shoulder, but Jamison backed away from him.

"I understand," he muttered, doing everything he could to contain himself. "I understand completely. I've tried my best to ignore it and tell myself that it wasn't true, but this conversation has showed me exactly who I can count on."

Vorian sighed and tried to move closer again, but Jamison wouldn't have any of it. "Don't touch me!" he barked before calming down and lowering his voice. "Like I said, I know who I can count on and I know now that it's not you,” he said, anger still oozing from his every word. “You've shown me what my future is if I stay here, and I refuse to let that happen. I'm leaving Starfall tomorrow and don't you dare try to stop me." And with those words, Jamison turned around and walked away from his father, slamming his office door behind him and ignoring whatever his father tried to say.

Walking through the castle and out into the courtyard, Jamison was alone with his thoughts and every thought seemed to haunt him. His own father had told him that his older brother was better than him and was going to marry the woman that he cared for. Thinking about his older brother, Jamison knew that as the heir to the Torrentine, Malcolm could have nearly any woman he desired, and if he really wanted he could’ve told their father at any point that he wanted to marry someone else other than Isabella. But of course he hadn’t done that, and he never would. Jamison also most certainly didn't buy this whole idea of the alliance being so important, considering the Kingdom of Stone and Sky hadn't been powerful enough to even matter for a century or more.

The way that Jamison saw it, Malcolm wanted to marry Isabella just to spite him. However, it wouldn’t just hurt him, it would also hurt Isabella, and Jamison would not let that stand. As he walked outside of the castle and looked at the night sky above, Jamison remembered that Malcolm had a habit of going for nightly walks along the shore down behind the castle. Tonight, that would be his biggest mistake. Jamison didn't just care for Isabella, he loved her and if he wasn't allowed to marry her then no other Dayne would either. Malcolm had already gotten everything else that Jamison had ever wanted, but he wouldn't get Isabella. No, tonight he would find Malcolm and they would settle their differences once and for all.

I am sorry for the late reply to this! But oh man, when I saw activity in the Nymeria's War section, I literally jumped up. And it got even better when I saw it's a Jamison prequel! Yes, this is amazing and I am very happy to see it. You know Jamison has always been a favourite of mine, so he is probably the character I'd most want to see in such a prequel. He arguably had quite a lot of character development over the course of the story so far (and, by the way, Wildling, if you decide to get back to NW at some point in the future, you know you can count me in), but seeing him before all that is basically equally entertaining. Great work so far, I look forward for more

With all of Starfall to search, Jamison searched and after nearly a half hour of scouring for his older brother in every direction, he had finally found him. Countless thoughts were scattered about in Jamison's head, but one thought was ahead of all others and that was his anger that he felt toward his older brother. The anger would not subside, clouding Jamison’s thoughts, and every thought he had led to something that wouldn't bode well for the Crown Prince of Starfall. Jamison didn't know what would happen once he found Malcolm, and in a way that almost scared him. There was a part of him that hoped he wouldn't find his brother, but it was overshadowed by absolute rage about everything that had transpired, and that rage guided his actions.

When Jamison found him, Prince Malcolm Dayne stood alone watching the waters of the Torrentine as the waves cracked sharply against the rocks along the shoreline. Out beyond the Torrentine the sun was slowly setting and replacing the sun was the full moon which shined high in the sky with nary a cloud in sight. Jamison thought it was a peaceful sight, but his brother's presence ruined any chance of it staying that way. The time looking for his brother had not calmed him down, but merely added to his ire. With purpose, Jamison walked closer and closer to his brother until he was but a few yards away. Jamison rested his left hand against the pommel of the Darkness and spoke up.

"Evening brother," he said, eyeing Malcolm with contempt. Malcolm turned around to meet Jamison's cold stare. Jamison's older brother's eyes widened in surprise at the sudden interruption, but a smile that seemed to indicate relief quickly took over his face.

"Oh, hello Jamison," Malcolm said with a relaxed tone. "It is quite an evening isn't it?" he asked, but his carefree smile faded when Jamison rolled his eyes in response. "Is something wrong brother? You look as if you want to stab me," Malcolm said with a nervous chuckle, which Jamison interrupted harshly.

"Quiet."

"What?" Malcolm asked, raising his eyebrow in confusion at Jamison’s bluntness.

"I said shut your mouth and listen to me, Malcolm," Jamison replied curtly as he stared daggers into his older brother. He waited a moment to see if Malcolm would protest, but he never did, which led Jamison to continue.

"In life we all have choices that we have to make," Jamison began, tapping his fingers upon the scabbard of the Darkness on his left side. "Every choice, big or small, makes us who we are and determines the path our lives we take. Of course, some people aren't able to make their own choices, but obviously you aren't one of those people. So, tell me this brother, why did you make the choice that you made?" Jamison questioned, his anger welling up inside of him, compelling him to take a deep breath to compose himself.

For a moment, Jamison's brother stood there clearly debating over what choice Jamison could possibly be speaking of. After a brief silence however, Malcolm’s eyes were filled with knowing pity, and he took a deep breath himself. Clearly he had realized what Jamison was alluding to, and Jamison was eager to hear his response.

"It was just talked about Jamison, no raven has flied to Skyreach yet," Malcolm said nervously, his eyes darting around his surroundings as he put his hands out in front of him in attempt to pacify the situation. Jamison would have none of it.

"Don't even try to talk your way out of this," he retorted back sharply, raising his voice ever so slightly as he spoke. "From the time we were just boys, father has always favored you. I didn't want to admit it, but it was clearly true. Father's preference toward you has showed no bounds. Hells, he just told me as much. He made it perfectly clear that you are his favorite son and I… well I’m just a worthless piece of shit," Jamison quipped, trying to hide his disappointment with a sharp smirk. "It's alright though, I never needed him. I never needed anyone. All father has done is put restrictions on my life while handing you the world. However, Father isn't here. He isn’t here to make a decision for either of us, it's just you and me here. Now, where this meeting between us goes is my decision, but being the fair and just knight that I am, I will give you a choice as well," Jamison spoke with a thick layer of sarcasm in his words, watching his brother fidget ever so slightly.

"And what might that choice be?" Malcolm asked nervously, looking up toward the castle and back to Jamison again, most likely hoping someone would come around to save him.

"You've insulted me one too many times, Malcolm," Jamison began coldly as he gripped the Darkness tighter with his left hand, not moving to unsheathe it with his right just yet. "You have two choices. You'll either unsheathe your sword and fight me or you'll shed blood without a fight. The choice is yours," Jamison said, his eyes not leaving his brother as he prepared for Malcolm to fight or run.

"Jamison," Malcolm muttered in shock. "I'm your brother, I don't want to fight you, we're family." The Crown Prince spoke nervously, struggling to hold his composure. The waves of the Torrentine rose and dipped behind him as he took a step back toward them. Jamison followed after him, feeling the water now gently brushing upon his boots.

"You don't want to fight me you say? Well, your actions said otherwise," Jamison stated with strong animosity, still closing in on Malcolm. The Crown Prince kept backing further and further into the Torrentine, the water reaching ever closer to his waist. Jamison's eyes were locked upon his brother. The only thing that mattered was what would happen next.

Suddenly Jamison stopped in his tracks and took in a deep breath. Almost as if he had snapped out of some kind of trance, he looked at his older brother not with malice but with disappointment and regret. He couldn’t do this. He was many things, but never a kinslayer. As much hate as he felt towards his brother in this moment, Jamison knew that it wasn't solely him who planned this marriage to Isabella. It was many others who made it possible, from their father King Vorian to Isabella's father King Garrison. And as much as Jamison hated to admit it, it was likely Isabella herself had at the very least agreed to it as well. Jamison didn't know King Garrison well, but he had been around him enough to know he wouldn’t force his beloved daughter to a marriage without her agreement.

Disappointment was all that Jamison could feel now as he thought about what he had almost done. He looked upon his older brother with pain and regret. He had almost shed the blood of his brother in the river that their kingdom shared its name with, and he could only feel shocked by his own actions. And while Jamison wouldn't harm his brother, he also knew now more than ever that he could not stay in Starfall any longer. It wasn't his home anymore, and like his sister Nealia before him, Jamison knew he needed to find his own way. The inevitable disappointment and pain that would come from seeing his true love marrying his older brother was something he simply couldn’t bear.

"I'm sorry Malcolm, I don't know what came over me,” Jamison muttered in a defeated tone. “If you're meant to marry Princess Isabella then so be it. I wish you nothing but the best." With these words he turned away from his brother and walked back toward the castle, his future now laid out in front of him.

Upon getting back to his chambers, Jamison immediately began packing, bringing all of the gold in his possession along with some clothing, and his armor. Everything else could be bought on the road and in truth, Jamison knew he had to leave soon. While he hadn't went through with it, he had threatened harm to his older brother and Jamison could only wonder what the repercussions would be. In truth, he did not want to know. With everything packed, Jamison opened the door and left his chambers. As he walked silently throughout the castle, knowing he would simply have to make it to the docks. Trading vessels docked there at different times throughout the day and night, dropping off whatever cargo they were carrying. That would be Jamison’s way to get out of Starfall.

However, Jamison didn't even get out of the corridor that his chambers were on before being greeted by a very familiar face.

It was his mother, Queen Arenna Dayne and upon their eyes meeting, Jamison felt a tinge of regret creep over him. While he had pretty much always had a rocky relationship with his father, Jamison had always been very close to his mother. From the very first memories that he carried she had always been there for him, often getting him out of trouble as a child and supporting him in any way she possibly could. Jamison loved his mother and knew that his decision would cause her great pain, which was why he had hoped to avoid her. However, it was clear now that he would have to tell her the truth.

Still a relatively young woman herself, only being thirty-four years of age, Queen Arenna carried a striking beauty with her long black hair, pale skin, delicate facial features and bright blue eyes. Her looks and the crude remarks about them by his friends had been the cause of many fights that Jamison had gotten into as a child. She was dressed regally as always, but instead of the cheerful smile that often adorned her face, a frown had replaced it with Jamison imagining that she already knew what happened between him and Malcolm.

"Jamison," the Queen said quietly as she looked up at him with concern, putting her hand on his shoulder as she spoke. "May we talk?" Arenna asked with a pleading tone, and as much as Jamison wanted to, he simply couldn't deny her. With her words, they kept walking and soon reached a balcony that overlooked the Summer Sea in front of them and below them. The night sky had completely set in now with the full moon shining brightly above giving more than enough light for Jamison to see his mother.

"What's wrong, mother?" Jamison questioned calmly, trying to hide the nerves that he felt but as always, his mother knew everything.

"I know what happened," the Queen said quietly with a sigh as she looked out at the waters ahead of her. "Malcolm told me everything. Why would you threaten your brother, Jamison?" she questioned with sadness in her voice and a piercing look in her eyes, which Jamison tried to avert.

"You know why, mother. I'd prefer not to have to say it again," Jamison mumbled with a sigh, slowly bringing his eyes back to his mother again. "I was reminded of something that I had known my entire life. No matter how hard I try, no matter how much I hope for something different, Malcolm is father's favorite and he gets whatever he wants. I spoke with father earlier, and I only asked from him what I believe I deserve. I asked for a seat in the council and a betrothal to Princess Isabella, and he denied me both. He knows how much I care about her, he even was the one who brought me to talk to her as a child, and yet he betrayed me." Jamison's voice shook in disappointment. "And Malcolm, he knew about my feelings as well. He could have any girl in this kingdom or any other, and yet he chose her. You ask why I threatened him. To tell you the truth, I thought that it would get me what I wanted, that it would satisfy me, but when I had Malcolm right where I wanted him, I couldn't do it. What would it change? I would have hurt Isabella by doing such a thing, I would have hurt you and as much as I hate to admit it, I would have hurt father as well. I’m many things but I'm not a kinslayer,” he concluded, turning his gaze down.

Arenna looked at him with conflicted and pitying eyes. “I know you probably hate me right now,” Jamison continued bitterly. “Just like father does, and I can’t blame either of you. However, I promise that I will leave, and I won't come back. My place isn't here in Starfall, I see that now." A tear shed down Jamison’s face as he finished speaking. For a moment silence lingered in the air, and just as Jamison was about to turn and walk away, Queen Arenna broke down into tears and wrapped her arms around him, stopping him in his tracks.

In silence they hugged for a moment, after which Queen Arenna backed away and looked up at her son, wiping the tears from her eyes before she spoke. "My son, I love you. Please, don't ever think anything else,” the Queen pleaded, putting both her hands on Jamison's shoulders.

"I know you do, mother. But father…"

"Your father loves you too Jamison,” Arenna was quick to cut him off. “He might not always show it in the best way, but he loves you too,” she assured with gentle words.

"He sure as an odd way of showing it," Jamison muttered in disappointment, letting out a deep sigh.

Turning her gaze down for a moment, Jamison's mother looked as if she were at a loss and unsure. However, then she raised her gaze and spoke up with words that surprised Jamison. "Do you know the story of your birth, my son?"

"Not really,” Jamison responded indifferently. “I highly doubt it was different from any other birth,” he said with a slight chuckle, but his mother did not reciprocate the smirk.

"But it was," Queen Arenna spoke with a serious tone. "You were born earlier than Maester Norbert had expected, far earlier in fact. You were so small and weak, probably no more than a couple of pounds, and it was thought that you wouldn't make it through the night. I prayed to the Father and to the Mother to get you through the night, and they did. But it wasn't just me, your father was there right beside me praying to the Gods as well. Once you made it through the night, then we prayed for a fortnight, and then for a month, and then a year. Eventually you grew up to be the big and strong boy that you are now." Queen Arenna now smiled and Jamison did too.

"I guess I was just lucky."

"No, you weren't just lucky,” Arenna insisted. “You had your family praying for you, and you had your inner strength and courage that has only made you stronger. And as far as your father goes, I know it may seem sometimes like he doesn't care, but you must understand that he not only has to worry about us but the thousands upon thousands of people of this kingdom as well. People he will never even meet rely on his governance each and every day. He carries a great burden and while I won't make excuses for him, I do believe that he tries his best for his family and this kingdom. He has looked out for you more than you know, and while he's not been perfect in his treatment of you, please don't think that he hates you." The Queen’s words were calm and genuine, and Jamison smiled slightly before speaking up.

"I suppose you may be right, mother. Perhaps I shouldn't be so hard on him," he said, turning his eyes back to the Summer Sea with a sigh. "But even still, I can't stay here. I don't know where I belong, but I know that it's not here as a glorified bodyguard for father and Malcolm. I can't bear to see Princess Isabella marry a Dayne other than me, I need to see the world, figure out who I am meant to be and come to grips with whatever my future entails." From the corner of his eye, he could see that the smile on his mother's face had faded. Jamison didn’t like upsetting his mother, but he knew that this was better than lying to her.

"Very well then," Arenna said with a sad sigh, bowing her head down as she spoke. "I understand that I can't change your mind, but perhaps you should at least wait until morning. Malcolm has promised me that he wouldn't tell your father about what happened tonight, so you needn’t worry about that."

"Thank you, mother,” Jamison said with a genuine but solemn tone. “You know that I appreciate and love you so much." He gave his mother a kiss on the cheek along with a quick hug, which she returned in kind.

"I love you too, Jamison. I love you too," Queen Arenna said with a quiet and motherly tone. In her eyes was a hint of regret, as if she could guess that Jamison would be gone before dawn. She nodded to him quietly and walked away.

Looking down at everything that he had packed, Jamison threw it all on his shoulder before sneaking out of the castle with quiet steps, not alerting anyone that he was leaving. After several minutes of walking, Jamison finally reached the docks with one small trading vessel being anchored at shore amongst all of the other war ships and trading vessels that had been stationed here. Upon greeting one of the deckhands, Jamison was brought before their captain who agreed to take him off Starfall and into the mainland for no price at all.

And after waiting a little while, the trading vessel set sail away from Starfall. As the small ship made its way along the waters Jamison looked upon the Island of Starfall, which was slowly but surely getting further and further away from him. The great white castle that seemingly reached the clouds grew smaller and smaller the further the ship went. Looking back at it, a mixture of emotions came over Jamison yet again in what had been a very emotional night.

Prince Jamison Dayne was now leaving behind the place he had been raised, as well as the people who had raised him. A part of him was sad that it had to happen like this, but a part of him knew that greater things awaited him. He wouldn't be defined by his birth any longer, but by his skill. Whatever awaited him, Jamison knew he’d make the most of it, because he knew he wasn’t just a skilled knight; he was the very best. Prince Jamison Dayne was the Sword of the Night, and now was his time to prove his worth.

Thanks Wildling, I'm glad to hear you enjoyed it! When I wrote that part, I tried to show that pretty much everything lined up right for Jamison not to attack Malcolm. If Malcolm would have unsheathed his sword or ran then I believe it would have been on so this was a very much a very fine line sort of thing. Malcolm did everything he needed to do which was bide his time until Jamison realized he was doing something irrational and very clearly reckless. With that said, this wasn't some master plan by Malcolm, he was honestly just terrified like you said This was by far the toughest scene that I have attempted to write and I really felt that there had to be something big to make him leave home. While I wasn't sure I could pull it off, it has thankfully seemed to work out well and I am excited to get Jamison's travels started

I'm glad to hear you are liking the story so far! Jamison certainly won't be lacking in adventures in this story and I am very excited to write them out. Thanks for reading Tales!

Ah, Alester Upton, you cocky bastard It's easy to see why these two are such good friends, but they're clearly also quite a hazardous pair, which should only make their adventures together all the more exciting! Looking forward to seeing those adventures

Ah yes, Alester is indeed a cocky one    Oh yes, Jamison and Alester are two people who at least during this time of their lives need others to check their worst impulses and well they won't have that here. Matter of fact, they are more likely to egg each other on

As far as their adventures go, I am very excited to show them and I can safely say that they will be in the Dornish Marches very soon

At the first light of dawn Prince Jamison Dayne, now alongside Ser Alester Upton, had left Sword's Edge with haste. In what felt like the blink of an eye the Red Mountains of Dorne fell further and further behind them. As their steeds took them north from High Hermitage to Blackmont, the two young knights rode hard, only stopping just long enough to rest and never in any nobleman’s castle. Jamison had a castle of his own with the sky and stars above serving as the roof, while the Torrentine and the wilderness surrounding him served as the walls. The world was his shelter and while Jamison wasn't accustomed to sleeping in the dirt, there was something tranquil about it that made it not too difficult for him to adapt. That said, Jamison wasn't and never would be a hedge knight, which was one of many reasons he would normally prefer to sleep in a proper inn or castle, but he had his reasons as to why he wasn't doing that now.

One reason in particular was that he simply wanted to get to the Stormlands as quickly as possible, which made him sacrifice comfort in favor of haste. Admittedly, Alester wasn't too pleased with sleeping like a hedge knight, which Jamison very much understood. However, when Alester brought up the idea of stopping in Blackmont before they continued north, Jamison made sure to stop that idea right where it began. On the surface it made sense for Jamison to stop and see his royal uncle and cousins, who one would think had mutual love for one another, but like as always in life there were layers to his relationship with the Blackmonts that couldn’t be seen upon first glance. The relationship between Jamison and House Blackmont – and in particular his Uncle Benedict – was like peeling back an onion. And after all the layers had been peeled back, this one clearly had a rotten surface underneath.

A little over eight years ago Queen Valaena Blackmont, formerly known as Princess Valaena Dayne, had died with what was said to have been a sudden and unknown illness while her children Gwendis and Naemon were in Starfall visiting the Daynes. Jamison remembered the night he was told about her death as if it were just the day before. The harshest winter in hundreds if not thousands of years made its mark upon Westeros as snow even reached Starfall when the news of her death was uttered from his father's lips. Jamison remembers the emotion he felt and how he had cried in his mother's arms, wondering how such a thing could happen to such a kind and healthy young woman. Even as a boy though, he knew the truth about her death. He knew that her husband King Benedict Blackmont had killed her.

Even back then, King Benedict had a reputation for being an evil man who studied the darker arts of the known world, with some saying he could turn into a vulture himself. Of course Jamison himself wasn't stupid enough to believe such thoughts, but he had heard enough to know that Benedict was a man who thought highly of himself, and that he was someone who believed himself to be some kind of god who could determine the fate of whoever he chose. King Benedict changed the fate of Princess Valaena by killing her when he did, along with slamming shut the alliance between houses Dayne and Blackmont, who had been friends much more often than enemies throughout history. By killing a Dayne who clearly was in no position to defend herself, and an innocent woman on top of that, he made a mockery of the Dayne family name. Jamison's father Vorian had only added to that insult when he decided not to go to war with House Blackmont back then. Vorian should have killed Benedict and painted the Kingdom of Blackmont red before claiming the lands that Jamison believed his ancestors should have claimed a long time ago.

However, King Vorian had remained passive, of course. Because of all this, Jamison told himself that the next time that he’d lay eyes on King Benedict, he would kill him where he stood, with no forgiveness or remorse. Benedict Blackmont's time would come, and he would die by Jamison's hand. However, now wasn't the right time. With all that had happened, Jamison wasn't sure there ever would be a right time, but he knew that if he’d see Benedict, he wouldn't turn back on what he had promised to do. Upon hearing all of this, it was safe to say Alester Upton was happy to avoid Blackmont.

Once they passed Blackmont, Jamison and Alester's travels continued up the Shepherd's Path as they finally decided to stay the night at an inn in a little town called Gravesend. From there they rode up the Shepherd's Path as it winded around the Red Mountains with the views from it often being beautiful and the path sometimes treacherous, but they never stopped. Jamison wanted to put Dorne behind him, and soon enough he did. When they reached the Wide Way, Jamison and Alester picked up the pace and after a couple more days of travel, the crowned stag stood before them. Symbolizing the beginning of the Storm King's kingdom was a post made of timber standing nearly twenty feet high with the banner of House Durrandon flapping proudly in the wind and just below it was the yellow banner of black nightingales belonging to House Caron that waved just as proud. To countless Dornishmen throughout history, these two banners symbolized pain, suffering, war and defeat. To Jamison however, these banners meant freedom in a way. Freedom to make his own mark on history, and the freedom to finally move beyond just being the second son of a Dornish king.

Upon entering the Kingdom of Storm, Jamison and Alester rode for a few more miles before they finally reached the first village on the Stormland's side of the Dornish Marches. It was known as Broken Crown after a Manwoody King that had supposedly been killed on these lands before even getting the chance to make it to Nightsong. The whole thought that someone would name their settlement after a dead Manwoody amused Jamison, but if that was something the people of this village were proud of then so be it. The village itself was of a decent size, with a few businesses and houses lining the dusty streets. In the middle of it all was a building that piqued Jamison's interest the most. This building no doubt caught the interest of every other passerby as well, being the place’s only inn.

Standing a couple of stories high and built out of what looked to be ironwood, The Broken Crown Inn was a sight for sore eyes especially compared to the rest of the otherwise decrepit looking town. With Broken Crown being one of the only villages on the Stormland's side of the Dornish Marches, it was the perfect place for travelers to rest before continuing on in whatever direction they may be heading in.

When Jamison and Alester made it to the inn, it was packed with horses not only on the outside of the tavern but also around the sides and back of it as well. If Jamison had to guess over half of the town was at the Broken Crown Inn on this night and once the two knights of Starfall entered the common room, Jamison believed himself to be right and then some. Torches lined the exterior walls with more than enough light to go around as casks of beer and wine were kept out in the open for all of the patrons to see in the middle of the common room. Tables surrounded them with a bar located in the back on the north side along with an open area used for dancing that was in between the countless tables as well. Walking into the inn, Jamison noticed patrons of all backgrounds were here, and they were all shoulder to shoulder with one another. Some of them were singing, some were playing games and others were dancing, but all were here to have a good time.

Weaving past the knights, commoners and serving girls, Jamison and Alester searched for a table in vain, before finally coming across a small table for two in the very back corner of the room on the north west side just behind the bar. From this table, the whole first floor of the tavern could be seen, which was preferable even if Jamison didn't like being so far away from the entrance.

"Looks like we've come across a bloody festival," Alester said as he looked around with widened eyes at the scene that was laid out in front of him. Alester Upton had always been much more of a drinker then Jamison, who felt no shame in admitting he couldn't keep up with his friend. Even still he couldn't help but laugh at Alester’s eagerness to drink even after the long ride freshly behind them. To tell the truth, their travels were only just getting started, and Jamison wasn't quite sure where exactly they would go from here. He knew of a tourney coming in Storm's End and in Griffin's Roost celebrating some royal betrothals, but before that Jamison had to find something else for them to do to pass the time.

"Can't say I want to partake," Jamison said with a shrug. "After all, we've been travelling for days now and honestly we need to think on where we’re heading. Those tourneys are a little while from now, so we need to figure out what we'll do until then."

"I could think of a few things to do," Alester replied with a wide smirk as his eyes darted back and forth looking at the countless serving girls which made Jamison roll his eyes in amusement.

"Alester, we didn't travel this far just to sit in some tavern in the Marches and fuck lowborn wenches, did we?” Jamison asked him with a smug tone, which made Alester's smirk grow even wider.

"Well, no, but…"

"Of course we didn't," Jamison cut off Alester before he could finish. "We're in the Stormlands to show these bastards their worth or better yet, their lack of it. So, I'm thinking I'm going to have a look around and talk to some people. Maybe I'll hear about a tourney or something starting soon that will pique our interest. As for you, how about you go get us a couple of rooms for the night since I'd prefer not to sleep outside again. After that you can do what you bloody well please,” Jamison said with a knowing smirk that Alester was quick to reciprocate.

"With pleasure. You think you'll find someone yourself, Jamison?" Alester asked him, but Jamison just gave him a sad smile as his thoughts turned back to Isabella for a brief moment.

"No," the Dayne prince said with a sigh before getting up from the table. He walked back into the crowd of people enjoying their time, leaving Alester to take care of his business.

As Jamison made his way through the tavern his gaze wandered around, seeing all of the people smiling, laughing, singing, and kissing. He could merely sigh in disappointment and fall deeper into his thoughts. Isabella made her way back into his mind and he could only think about how she had seemingly pushed him aside in favor of Malcolm. He wanted to be angry with her, but he couldn't be. He was naive to think that they had a future together, he was a prince without lands or titles, while his brother had both. It was because of what his brother was born to inherit that he was considered more worthy, and who was Jamison to deny that. A part of him hoped that leaving Dorne and proving his worth as a knight would improve his chances of Isabella choosing to marry him instead, but he knew the chances of that weren't very high especially now. Suddenly he heard an unfamiliar male voice calling his name, awaking him from his thoughts. Jamison glanced around the room, trying to find the source of the voice.

"Jamison!" The man shouted again; his tone excited. Upon locking eyes with the man, Jamison immediately recognized him, and a slight smile crept to his face. While he hadn't seen the man since the tourney of Yorick Yronwood's coronation four years ago when Jamison was merely a twelve-year-old squire and him a sixteen-year-old squire, he immediately knew the man's face.

"Dawsin Storm, the Bastard of Blackhaven," Jamison replied back with a smile as he patted the man on his shoulder. "What brings you to Caron lands?" Jamison asked him which made Dawsin chuckle in amusement.

"In the flesh,” the stormlander exclaimed as he studied Jamison’s face. “And actually Prince Jamison, it's Ser Dawsin now. And I feel I should be the one asking you that same question. Not every day that you come across a Dornish prince in the Marches." Dawsin’s tone was carefree as he ran a hand through his long reddish blonde hair, which made Jamison raise an eyebrow.

"Wait, someone actually knighted you? By gods, does the actual skill of a knight mean anything anymore?" Jamison jested as the bastard of Blackhaven rolled his eyes and let an exaggerated laugh at Jamison's insult.

"Have you forgotten who came in twentieth place in the squire melee at Yorick's tourney? I mean sure I didn't win like you but top twenty is pretty good I say."

"There were twenty-five squires in that melee Dawsin, so I can't really say that top twenty is good in that case."

"Always trying to bring a good man down, you should be ashamed Prince Jamison. Anyhow, you never answered my question, too eager to mock my martial abilities. So, I'll ask again, what brings you to the Stormlands Jamison?" Ser Dawsin asked again, and while Jamison normally didn't like being pressed, he considered the man something of a friend so he let it slide.

"A change of scenery, Ser Dawsin," Jamison spoke the last words with a thick layer of sarcasm. "I wanted to travel a bit and have a good time. I've heard much about some tourneys coming up here in the Stormlands. Apparently the Storm King has found some new maid to wed, and his daughter from the last queen is getting married as well."

"Indeed,” Dawsin confirmed. “Have you seen Princess Marleina, Jamison? A divine beauty she is, and always dressed so provocatively. Gods, what a woman." Dawsin smiled widely as he spoke, until a slight frown replaced it. "Shame she's marrying Robert Connington though. That red headed bastard always looks so angry, he doesn't deserve a woman like that if I may say so myself.”

"Look at you calling someone a bastard," Jamison said with a sharp smirk. "That doesn't really make any sense."

"It makes all the sense in the world, actually," the stormlander knight claimed with a shrug. "I'm a bastard by birth, he's a bastard by choice. There's a difference you know."

"I suppose there is some truth to that," Jamison admitted with an amused tone. "But anyway, you're a knight of the stormlands so tell me this: Are there tourneys or any kind of work for a knight going on right now? I mean, this is a nice tavern and all, but I can't say I’m inclined to stay here for long." Jamison eyed curiously at Ser Dawsin, who smiled thinly at his question.

"There is, matter of fact,” he responded calmly. “Coming up there is a tourney in Gallowsgrey to celebrate the new Lord Trant. As far as I know it will be a smaller tournament, but the more the merrier I say. I also heard the Trants are having trouble with some band of rebels on their lands, and Lord Trant is looking for knights to take them out. I suppose you could take part in that if you feel so inclined."

“Can’t say I have any desire to fight a Marcher lord's battles for him,” Jamison stated honestly. “However, I'd be more than happy to win his little tourney. Who knows, mayhaps I’ll feel generous enough to take his bandits out after that," Jamison said with a chuckle, which made Dawsin shake his head in amusement.

"You're an arrogant prick, you know that Jamison?"

"It's not arrogance when you can back it up, my bastard friend," Jamison retorted sharply, which made Dawsin shake his head once again. "When are you leaving for Gallowsgrey anyhow?"

"In a couple of days, I'd say. I need to stop by Nightsong before I go north. I'm travelling with a couple of other knights and they want to check with Lord Trevas about work before we move on. I highly doubt there will be any though. The Carons have been at peace ever since the war with the Blackmonts like twenty years back," Dawsin said with indifference before the smile returned once again. "You're more than welcome to travel with us if you like."

"You know what? I think I'll do that. Though I should say that Alester Upton is traveling with me as well, is that alright?" Jamison asked him even though he already knew the answer.

"Is it alright? Of course it's alright. I'm more than happy to see that big goof again," Ser Dawsin confirmed almost immediately. “Tell me, does he still have that silly little mustache with two hairs above his lip?"

“Yes, but his mustache isn't so slight anymore. In fact, he even has something of a beard now," Jamison said with amusement, which made the Dondarrion bastard laugh in return.

"Oh my, I look forward to seeing this. Anyway, I'm going to let the others know what's going on and we'll meet up in a bit. Does that work?”

"It does, I'll go find Alester and tell him what's going on." With those words, Jamison Dayne and Dawsin Storm went their separate ways for the time being. Weaving his way through the crowd once again Jamison was glad to have a plan, but at the same time he knew he shouldn’t let his guard down. While Dawsin Storm was a decent guy, Jamison wouldn't go as far as to trust him. For the time being however, he figured it would be nice to have someone who knows the land to travel with. After a few moments of searching, Jamison found Alester back at their table downing a mug of black beer with a somewhat pretty but chubby girl on his lap.

"Jamison." Alester bellowed out with an arrogant smirk attached to his face. "This is the Lady Fryda. She is a maid in service of Lord Caron's daughter, and she is a great cook. Isn’t that right, Fryda?"

"Hello mylord, I'm Fryda, and I'm a great cook!" The plump girl slurred in a half drunken manner, which made Jamison roll his eyes and chuckle.

"I can see she’s a bright one Alester, you sure know how to pick ’em," Jamison said with obvious sarcasm, which made Alester burst into loud laughter.

"Intelligence isn't everything, Jamison," Alester retorted back, barely managing to contain his laughter. "You find any leads?"

"I did,” Jamison answered smoothly. “Have your fun here in Broken Crown, for soon we go north toward Gallowsgrey where great times await us." Alester took another swig of beer for his words, before hollering out once again.

"Onward to Gallowsgrey then," Alester spoke up, raising his mug up high while giving Jamison a mug of empty ale he had beside him. "This is a toast to a new beginning, and it starts with Gallowsgrey and House Trant. What are their words again, Jamison? I can't say I remember."

With his words their mugs clashed against each other with force as Jamison spoke up with arrogance. "So End Our Foes, Alester. So End Our Foes."