Act I: A Fate Uncertain
Chapter III: We Write History
Jenna
It had been five days. Five days since Ser Ilhan had been murdered. Fiv… moree days in which she had barely left her chamber, outside of her duties. Five days in which she had been barely more than a meek shadow, trying to stay alive. She remembered the gaze in Harris' eyes, every time she met him by accident. He was a changed man. No gentle smile. No friendly voice. She hated him. She was afraid of him. And still, for some odd reason, Jenna Harking recognized a lot of herself in his gaze. Harris Flowers was afraid. He looked like he had lost his mind in fear and sorrow. And he actively avoided her wherever he could, she knew it. On the positive side, she noticed that her opinion on Lady Halla had changed too. The Lady herself hadn't changed at all. She shouted. She cursed. She hit Jenna for every mistake. If anything, she seemed to be even more brutal than before. But Jenna wasn'… [view original content]
Act I: A Fate Uncertain
Chapter III: We Write History
Jenna
It had been five days. Five days since Ser Ilhan had been murdered. Fiv… moree days in which she had barely left her chamber, outside of her duties. Five days in which she had been barely more than a meek shadow, trying to stay alive. She remembered the gaze in Harris' eyes, every time she met him by accident. He was a changed man. No gentle smile. No friendly voice. She hated him. She was afraid of him. And still, for some odd reason, Jenna Harking recognized a lot of herself in his gaze. Harris Flowers was afraid. He looked like he had lost his mind in fear and sorrow. And he actively avoided her wherever he could, she knew it. On the positive side, she noticed that her opinion on Lady Halla had changed too. The Lady herself hadn't changed at all. She shouted. She cursed. She hit Jenna for every mistake. If anything, she seemed to be even more brutal than before. But Jenna wasn'… [view original content]
Act I: A Fate Uncertain
Chapter III: We Write History
Jenna
It had been five days. Five days since Ser Ilhan had been murdered. Fiv… moree days in which she had barely left her chamber, outside of her duties. Five days in which she had been barely more than a meek shadow, trying to stay alive. She remembered the gaze in Harris' eyes, every time she met him by accident. He was a changed man. No gentle smile. No friendly voice. She hated him. She was afraid of him. And still, for some odd reason, Jenna Harking recognized a lot of herself in his gaze. Harris Flowers was afraid. He looked like he had lost his mind in fear and sorrow. And he actively avoided her wherever he could, she knew it. On the positive side, she noticed that her opinion on Lady Halla had changed too. The Lady herself hadn't changed at all. She shouted. She cursed. She hit Jenna for every mistake. If anything, she seemed to be even more brutal than before. But Jenna wasn'… [view original content]
Act I: A Fate Uncertain
Chapter III: We Write History
Jenna
It had been five days. Five days since Ser Ilhan had been murdered. Fiv… moree days in which she had barely left her chamber, outside of her duties. Five days in which she had been barely more than a meek shadow, trying to stay alive. She remembered the gaze in Harris' eyes, every time she met him by accident. He was a changed man. No gentle smile. No friendly voice. She hated him. She was afraid of him. And still, for some odd reason, Jenna Harking recognized a lot of herself in his gaze. Harris Flowers was afraid. He looked like he had lost his mind in fear and sorrow. And he actively avoided her wherever he could, she knew it. On the positive side, she noticed that her opinion on Lady Halla had changed too. The Lady herself hadn't changed at all. She shouted. She cursed. She hit Jenna for every mistake. If anything, she seemed to be even more brutal than before. But Jenna wasn'… [view original content]
Act I: A Fate Uncertain
Chapter III: We Write History
Jenna
It had been five days. Five days since Ser Ilhan had been murdered. Fiv… moree days in which she had barely left her chamber, outside of her duties. Five days in which she had been barely more than a meek shadow, trying to stay alive. She remembered the gaze in Harris' eyes, every time she met him by accident. He was a changed man. No gentle smile. No friendly voice. She hated him. She was afraid of him. And still, for some odd reason, Jenna Harking recognized a lot of herself in his gaze. Harris Flowers was afraid. He looked like he had lost his mind in fear and sorrow. And he actively avoided her wherever he could, she knew it. On the positive side, she noticed that her opinion on Lady Halla had changed too. The Lady herself hadn't changed at all. She shouted. She cursed. She hit Jenna for every mistake. If anything, she seemed to be even more brutal than before. But Jenna wasn'… [view original content]
Act I: A Fate Uncertain
Chapter III: We Write History
Jenna
It had been five days. Five days since Ser Ilhan had been murdered. Fiv… moree days in which she had barely left her chamber, outside of her duties. Five days in which she had been barely more than a meek shadow, trying to stay alive. She remembered the gaze in Harris' eyes, every time she met him by accident. He was a changed man. No gentle smile. No friendly voice. She hated him. She was afraid of him. And still, for some odd reason, Jenna Harking recognized a lot of herself in his gaze. Harris Flowers was afraid. He looked like he had lost his mind in fear and sorrow. And he actively avoided her wherever he could, she knew it. On the positive side, she noticed that her opinion on Lady Halla had changed too. The Lady herself hadn't changed at all. She shouted. She cursed. She hit Jenna for every mistake. If anything, she seemed to be even more brutal than before. But Jenna wasn'… [view original content]
Act I: A Fate Uncertain
Chapter III: We Write History
Jenna
It had been five days. Five days since Ser Ilhan had been murdered. Fiv… moree days in which she had barely left her chamber, outside of her duties. Five days in which she had been barely more than a meek shadow, trying to stay alive. She remembered the gaze in Harris' eyes, every time she met him by accident. He was a changed man. No gentle smile. No friendly voice. She hated him. She was afraid of him. And still, for some odd reason, Jenna Harking recognized a lot of herself in his gaze. Harris Flowers was afraid. He looked like he had lost his mind in fear and sorrow. And he actively avoided her wherever he could, she knew it. On the positive side, she noticed that her opinion on Lady Halla had changed too. The Lady herself hadn't changed at all. She shouted. She cursed. She hit Jenna for every mistake. If anything, she seemed to be even more brutal than before. But Jenna wasn'… [view original content]
Still no. I don't choose them.
Liquid send me a list of 5 characters, trying to pick some important and some secondary. In order to satisfy everyone
As I send this today, he didn't send me 5 new descriptions.
Still no. I don't choose them.
Liquid send me a list of 5 characters, trying to pick some important and some secondary. In order to satisfy everyone
As I send this today, he didn't send me 5 new descriptions.
Oh yes, I like these very much. Thank you again for the amazing drawings!
My favourite this time has to be John Gutten, who looks incredibly badass and exactly how I imagined him. Now I can't wait to write more for him! The rest is great too! I love the amount of detail in them, especially with Janae.
Act I: A Fate Uncertain
Chapter III: We Write History
Jenna
It had been five days. Five days since Ser Ilhan had been murdered. Fiv… moree days in which she had barely left her chamber, outside of her duties. Five days in which she had been barely more than a meek shadow, trying to stay alive. She remembered the gaze in Harris' eyes, every time she met him by accident. He was a changed man. No gentle smile. No friendly voice. She hated him. She was afraid of him. And still, for some odd reason, Jenna Harking recognized a lot of herself in his gaze. Harris Flowers was afraid. He looked like he had lost his mind in fear and sorrow. And he actively avoided her wherever he could, she knew it. On the positive side, she noticed that her opinion on Lady Halla had changed too. The Lady herself hadn't changed at all. She shouted. She cursed. She hit Jenna for every mistake. If anything, she seemed to be even more brutal than before. But Jenna wasn'… [view original content]
Act I: A Fate Uncertain
Chapter III: We Write History
Jenna
It had been five days. Five days since Ser Ilhan had been murdered. Fiv… moree days in which she had barely left her chamber, outside of her duties. Five days in which she had been barely more than a meek shadow, trying to stay alive. She remembered the gaze in Harris' eyes, every time she met him by accident. He was a changed man. No gentle smile. No friendly voice. She hated him. She was afraid of him. And still, for some odd reason, Jenna Harking recognized a lot of herself in his gaze. Harris Flowers was afraid. He looked like he had lost his mind in fear and sorrow. And he actively avoided her wherever he could, she knew it. On the positive side, she noticed that her opinion on Lady Halla had changed too. The Lady herself hadn't changed at all. She shouted. She cursed. She hit Jenna for every mistake. If anything, she seemed to be even more brutal than before. But Jenna wasn'… [view original content]
Act I: A Fate Uncertain
Chapter III: We Write History
Jenna
It had been five days. Five days since Ser Ilhan had been murdered. Fiv… moree days in which she had barely left her chamber, outside of her duties. Five days in which she had been barely more than a meek shadow, trying to stay alive. She remembered the gaze in Harris' eyes, every time she met him by accident. He was a changed man. No gentle smile. No friendly voice. She hated him. She was afraid of him. And still, for some odd reason, Jenna Harking recognized a lot of herself in his gaze. Harris Flowers was afraid. He looked like he had lost his mind in fear and sorrow. And he actively avoided her wherever he could, she knew it. On the positive side, she noticed that her opinion on Lady Halla had changed too. The Lady herself hadn't changed at all. She shouted. She cursed. She hit Jenna for every mistake. If anything, she seemed to be even more brutal than before. But Jenna wasn'… [view original content]
Again, I am surprised by the unambiguity of this choice. Not necessarily surprised in a bad way though. Seems like most of you trust the Septon. We'll see how that plays out
By the way, at the end of Book 1, meaning way into the future, I have plans to give you an overview over the alternate choices. The storyline has been formed heavily by your decisions so far, with the consequences already carrying over the whole Book and in some cases even beyond.
The new part is halfway written and will consist of two long POV's. I try to finish it in the next hours, but tomorrow is a more likely guess.
The Voting is closed!
Jenna will tell Septon Corbin the truth
Again, I am surprised by the unambiguity of this choice. Not necessarily… more surprised in a bad way though. Seems like most of you trust the Septon. We'll see how that plays out
By the way, at the end of Book 1, meaning way into the future, I have plans to give you an overview over the alternate choices. The storyline has been formed heavily by your decisions so far, with the consequences already carrying over the whole Book and in some cases even beyond.
The new part is halfway written and will consist of two long POV's. I try to finish it in the next hours, but tomorrow is a more likely guess.
So far I have your soldiers and a few other characters that will definitely be introduced in the Marches, should the storyline go there.
A concrete number is hard to guess though, since many characters might end up in the Marches depending on your choices. I also don't know how big this location will end up, since I only have some early plans to include them.
Two parts in split posts again, this time apparently even over two different pages! You know how it goes.
Maya
“Are we there yet?”
Maya clenched her teeth and looked at her involuntary companion. Irving Todd was a short man, around Mayas height, but more than twice her weight, with shoulder length brown hair and light blue eyes. His small moustache could have looked handsome on a dashing Braavosi sellsword, but on him it looked quite ridiculous. And he was wearing his plain grey armour, as always. A direct order from the Bronze Lord and an order Irving gladly followed. Considering the conversations she had with Irving, Maya was certain that this armour had saved him more than once in his life. While she certainly was not a violent woman, during the past five days she had fought the urge to throw him overboard every second of the day.
“Maya, have you heard me? I asked you a question. Are we there yet?”, he asked again. His voice was high-pitched and squawking and probably his worst physical trait. Maya suppressed the urge to cover her ears, but couldn't refrain to let out an annoyed sigh. It has been five days since they have left Gulltown. Ever since, Irving started to get on her nerves. And not only on hers. Gregar kept mostly to himself, spending his days alone on the deck, feeding his owl with mice, later with fish. Yet, right now, even he had a visibly annoyed look on his face. Maya gave Irving a sharp glare. “Not. Yet. Irving”, she hissed. Irving looked at her as if she had insulted his mother. “Yeah, you could have said that nicer...”, he moaned. Maya shivered and turned around to Gregar, who shook his head. “If you don't kill him, sooner or later I will”, he mumbled, while gently petting his owl. “But you can tell him we're almost there”, he added. Maya looked at the shore that could be seen in the distance. The past five days had been okay, apart from the fact that she had to spend them with Irving. They sailed on board of a small ship across the Bay of Crabs, the strait that separated the Vale of Arryn and the peninsula of Crackclaw Point. In the early morning, it was Irving who saw the coast first, even before the lookout saw it. Ever since he wouldn't shut up about it.
Crackclaw Point. Maya remembered what she had been told about the peninsula. The First Men had driven the Children of the Forest to extinction there and settled down for several thousand of years. Crackclaw Point was a rugged and densely forested area, with countless valleys in it. Every valley had it's own lord. All of them distrusted outsiders and none of them trusted each other. Territory conflicts or even full-blown war between two houses were common. And even the most powerful lord of Crackclaw Point was still poorer than a rich commoner from Gulltown. They were proud people, who never bowed to the Andals, until they had been convinced through marriage to join the Andal kingdoms. Until then, they had repelled the Darklyn kings of Duskendale, the Mooton kings of Maidenpool and even the Celtigars of Claw Isle, who descended from the blood of Valyria. The lords held nominal allegiance either to the Storm King or to the King of the Isles and Rivers, but held feasts with lords from the other kingdom, while fighting fierce wars against lords who should be on their side. They were wayward, stubborn and usually not very welcoming people. And Maya was about to land on their territory, unannounced and largely unprepared. In the distance, she saw the Dyre Den, seat of House Brune, one of the more important houses of Crackclaw Point and nominally sworn to Harren Hoare. The castle was smaller than some houses in Gulltown, with three crooked towers and scrawny looking banners on each of them, depicting some sort of fish eating a small red man.
Irving stepped next to her. “I'd say Lord Brune is already expecting our arrival. I see five men on the shore, wearing chainmail, a sixth in more heavy armour, likely the leader. Looks like his whole guard stepped up to greet us”, he said. Maya looked at him, quite surprised. She barely saw anyone on the shore. That was probably the only useful skill Irving really possessed. He had phenomenal eyesight, far better than anything Maya had ever seen. Even Gregar seemed to be slightly impressed. “Now if your cooking could be equally good, you wouldn't be such a fucking annoyance anymore”, he grumbled, which gave him a sharp glare from Irving. “Do you have a problem with my cooking, Gregar?”
Gregar sighed and shook his head. “Not even Ember eats muck like this”, he explained, to which Irving gave an annoying laugh. “Of course not, since your damn bird only likes mice and the worst part of fish. Oh and it's own shit. I forgot the shit”, he moaned, before throwing his hands in the air. “But fine, if none of you appreciates my cooking, why don't we let Ember cook? I'm sure she can cook delicious raw mice”
Gregar gave Maya a sharp look. “Can I please throw him overboard? We are close to the shore, he will most likely manage to survive”, he growled. Maya let out a short laugh. As annoying the situation was, seeing Gregar even more annoyed than her was delightful. “You expect Irving Todd to swim a few hundred metres? Gregar, that is just cruel”, she smiled. To her surprise, Gregar even smiled back. “Well, I've heard slavers from Essos occasionally land on these cliffs. If we're lucky we can strike a deal with them”, he chuckled. Maya took a look at Irving, who was just picking his nose and shook her head. “We would have to pay them to convince them taking Irving”, she answered.
Gregar looked at the shore. “I would be willing to pay more than I earn the whole year if that means we get rid of Irving”, he grumbled, before suddenly sounding very serious. “You have to be careful around here. Lord Trymon Brune is an old and embittered man. His own sons shun him and prefer to run after pretty girls in Maidenpool instead of staying with him. He had to sell his daughter into marriage with the old Lord Crabb. He is an embittered man with little love for the Vale and even less love for his own kingdom. He only cares for himself. The fact that he has people awaiting our arrival does not seem right to me. Stay alert!”
The tone in his voice worried Maya as she looked up at the Dyre Den. She was an ambassador or Runestone. Would Lord Brune really dare to hinder her on her journey? A petty lord like him against the wrath of the Bronze Lord? Nobody could be that stupid...
They arrived at the shore with a small rowboat, after they had paid the captain extra for it. Of course, Gregar was the only one to actually row. He insisted that Maya did not do it. She already wore the black cloak she got from Lord Royce, the cloak that showed her identity as the ambassador of Runestone. Rowing was beneath her now. After much whining and moaning, Irving agreed to row, but almost managed to sink the boat. After that Gregar was happy to do it alone. And he was a quite skilled rower, bringing them safely to the shore in only half an hour. The shore of the Dyre Den was a rocky, but densely forested area. To their left was a huge cliff, the castle on top. To their right were a few rundown houses, about half a dozen people on the streets between them, pale-faced and sad looking men and women, emaciated children and gnarled elders And five men, armed with chainmail and longswords, like Irving said. Their leader was the only one who looked like he had any kind of fighting experience. He wore black, plated armour and a short red cloak. His hair was short at the sides, but slightly longer on top, combined with a short and well-kempt beard. The stern look in his grey eyes hardened considerably as he looked at Maya.
As he approached, Maya saw something moving in the forest in front of her. Ember started to shriek and flew into the air, as a large black wolf stepped up. No... not a wolf. Wolves are not supposed to be that tall. Maya had seen pnoies who were smaller. That was clearly a direwolf! The beast sat down after a sharp glare from the man made it stop, but it still let out a deep growl
The man took an elegant bow in front of her. “Mylady”, he said, while carefully looking at Gregar and Irving. “My name is Ser Aldrik Wolver. I am in service of House Brune and have been tasked with finding out your identities” His voice was soft, but determined. Maya looked at Gregar who seemed very calm. Irving on the other hand was trembling and shaking, while he pointed at the direwolf. “What... Seven Hells, what is this beast?”, he stuttered. Ser Aldrik gave him a sharp glare. “This is no beast, this is a direwolf. My loyal companion, Knightfang. I can assure you, he does not bite, unless I allow it”, he explained. Knightfang? Well, luckily there were no knights among her small group.
Irvings face got pale and for a short moment he looked like he was about to faint. Maya shook her head in disbelief. What a coward! She took a short bow in front of the knight before she answered. “My name is Maya Iresons, Ambassador of Runestone and the Kingdom of Mountain and Vale. These are my companions, Gregar Balvind and Irving Todd. We are on our way to the Reach, to negotiate for Lord Orson Royce of Runestone. We wish to replenish our supplies at the Dyre Den before going our way”, she answered. Ser Aldrik gave his men a short look. Maya gulped and looked over at Gregar. Her companion had a hand on the small hatchet at his belt. She herself was armed with her two daggers, but had carefully concealed them before leaving the ship. She disliked the way Ser Aldirk looked at his men.
“Ambassador of Runestone...”, he said slowly. His direwolf growled. “In that case I have to insist on taking you to Lord Brune. He would like a word with you”, Aldrik said. Gregar shook his head. “No fucking way. We are not here to talk to Lord Brune. You can't force us”, he hissed. One of the men started to laugh but was quickly silenced by a sharp glare from Ser Aldrik. “Take a look at my men and rethink your statement, Ser. As a matter of fact, I can force you. I would prefer not to. Lord Brune gave me strict orders to bring any person of interest to him. Come with me peacefully and nothing will happen. Lord Brune only wishes to talk. Of course, you have to give up your weapons first”, he said and looked at Maya.
She met his gaze with her own furious glare.“Like Gregar said. No. Fucking. Way”, she answered. She had no time to deal with a petty lord whose ego was so much more bigger than his name! She acted on behalf of Runestone and the Vale. Besides, Lord Brune was a Riverlord, if only by name. She would never trust someone who was under the command of Harren the Black! Ser Aldrik sighed and made a short nod with his head. His direwolf responded with a sudden jump and let out a deep howl, slowly approaching the group.
Irving went down on his knees, screaming in terror, fumbling at his sheet, before finally managing to throw his sword away. “Take it!”, he screamed. “Take it! Keep it! I don't even want it! Just have mercy!” Two soldiers approached Gregar, who took out his hatchet, looking determined to start a fight. Maya could understand him. She would like nothing better than to fight her way to freedom. But Irving was no real help and Gregar couldn't take on them alone. She herself had several years of training and she was certain that she could defeat any of these men. They were no soldiers, likely nothing more than local farm boys who got a sword and rudimentary training. Ser Aldrik on the other hand...
“Please, Ambassador Iresons. There is no need for violence”, the knight said softly. His sword was still in his sheath, his hands raised, almost as if he was negotiating. But this wasn't a negotiation. This was a capture. “You're about to take us hostage, Ser Aldrik”, Maya answered with a sharp glare. It took a long time to make her angry, but now the point was reached. Ser Aldrik shook his head. “I am simply following orders. Lord Brune hired me to bring persons of interest to him, not to kill them”, he explained. Gregar spat on the ground, his face full of disdain. “Hired? So we're getting captured by a fucking mercenary and delivered to a petty lord who hasn't even enough men to do it himself?”, he growled. “And you're telling me this petty lord is stupid enough to provoke Orson Royce?”
Ser Aldrik shook his head. “Like I said. I follow orders. I am not provoking anyone and I don't know about the lords intention. But the orders have been very strict. I shall bring persons of interest to him, unarmed, so he can have a talk with them. And I would say the Ambassador of Runestone is a person of interest”, he explained again, this time slightly less calm. When he looked at Maya, his glare was hard as iron. “Ambassador Iresons, one of your men has given up. Your second companion is very stubborn. You don't carry any weapons and he stands alone against six men and Knightfang. This is suicide, Ambassador. Order him to stand down, or face the consequences”, he said with emphasis. Maya looked at Gregar. Her companion seemed to be intent on fighting his way out of this. But this was suicide. She couldn't let him sacrifice himself. “Gregar...”, she said softly. “Surrender. This is an order”
Gregar looked at her, his gaze a mixture of relief and anger. “Fuck this. If anything happens to us, the Bronze Lord will have your heads”, he grumbled, but threw his hatchet on the ground regardless. Ser Aldrik gave her an approving nod. “I am relieved this didn't end in violence. Now, Ambassador Iresons, I won't allow anyone armed near Lord Brune. Do you have any weapons with you?”, he asked. He didn't knew about her daggers! He really didn't knew!
“Aren't you going to search me either way, Ser Aldrik?”, she asked. The mercenary seemed to be genuinely surprised by this, if not offended. “Searching you? I am a man of honour and you are a lady of the Vale. I won't touch you in any unfitting way, Ambassador. I have to take your word. But know that I have a hard time believing that a woman like you travels unarmed. And know that I won't refrain from killing you, should you attack Lord Brune”, he said. Maya closed her eyes. She had two daggers with her. Two daggers that could be handy when negotiations with Lord Brune went out of hand... On the other hand, she believed Ser Aldrik when he said that he would kill her. He was no man who would lie like that...
[Give up both daggers][Give up one dagger][Keep both daggers]
Marak looked directly into the fire, the fire of the small candle, looking for any signs of visions, seeing nothing. Ah, damn it! During the past week, he had caught himself doing this, over and over. There were days were he looked into the flame until his eyes started to hurt, until dark shadows started to dance in the corner of his eyes. There were days where he thought that he could see something. Figures, dancing in the flames, like animals fighting each other. Then he realized that he saw nothing. It was stupid! And not what he should do! Right now, he should fuck some girl in the Stormlands or split some skulls. Or do both on a particularly good day.
But it wasn't a good day. He was sitting here in a shady inn somewhere near Highgarden, together with Noelle, the craziest girl he had ever met. And he was drinking the worst ale he had ever drank! It was a sweet, disgusting reddish ale, served in glasses instead of wodden mugs. It had no head, it was warmer than ale should be and it was all in all disgusting. He couldn't even get drunk from it like he should be. Noelle drank only water, like always. She refrained from drinking beer or anything like that. They had rarely talked after the incident in the house. She had a nasty cough for several days and for a short while Marak was slightly worried that he had permanently damaged her throat, somehow. He simply had no knowledge in choking someone non-lethally. But the priestess did not held it against him. He had to tell her what he had seen in the vision, again and again. After a while, the cough faded, her voice returned to her usual melodic tone. And then she had told him something too. Told him how blessed he was, that he was a chosen of rollmop. That the Lord of Light didn't talk to anyone. That he was something special. Yeah, that last part had always been clear to him. But still, he didn't want to be special in that way. Noelle had told him about Raylansfair. Apparently there was something in the archive she desired. Something powerful. Right... as if Noelle without something powerful in her hands didn't terrify him enough from time to time...
Marak snapped out of his thoughts just in time to grab the barmaids arm. “More ale, wench”, he grumbled. “And this time bring me your good stuff. Not this piss!”, he added. The barmaid looked at his glass and smirked. “I believe it is wine, m'lord”, she explained. Marak looked at her in disbelief for a moment. Was that dim-witted wench trying to mock him? “Less talking. More serving”, he growled, before he let the girl go. Noelle looked up. “You seem to be in a bad mood today”, she remarked. Seriously? Did she saw that in her flames? For days now, Marak had felt this urge to kill something, or at the very least to break something. The urge had always been there, sometimes he had given in to it, sometimes he had suppressed it. But the vision in the flames had brought out the worst in him. He felt like killing something every minute. Right now he looked at Noelle. And not for the first time during the past week, he asked himself if it was worth following her around, following her orders like an obedient little dog. “No shit, Noelle? How can you tell that?”, he answered in an annoyed tone. Noelle gave him a warm smile. “No need to be sarcastic, Marak. It doesn't suit you”, she answered and Marak wasn't sure if she just insulted him somehow. “I am just worried, that's all. You seem aggressive”
Marak slammed his fist down on the table. “Aggressive? Do I seem aggressive to you? After I almost broke your fucking neck?”, he hissed. At first he had been intrigued by her. He still was, albeit now there were times where her almost casual tone of conversation pissed him off. How could she always remain so calm? It would help if she was pissed at him. He had a long history of women being pissed at him, from Karhold to Sunspear, from Yunkai to Pyke. But never before had a woman actually forgiven him for attempting to murder her. And right now he had no other words for what he almost did. Was he sorry? No... Not sorry. But he was angry. Not at himself and not entirely at Noelle but at everyone else. Oh, how he wanted to burn this whole place to the ground, with their snarky wenches and their piss-ale!
Noelles smile faded. “You did almost kill me, I won't lie. But the Lord decided that I was not meant to die that day. That you were not meant to kill me. I have trust in R'hllor. He is my fire in the darkness. I am not afraid as long as his flame burns inside of me”, she explained. Marak shook his head. A fire burning inside of her? That would explain the strange warmth. Still, it must hurt like hell! There were days where Noelles crazy ramblings made no sense, not even to him. He just couldn't understand these religious types. The Drowned God was alright of course. Any god that explicitly commanded it's followers to pillage and plunder was a god Marak could follow. Other gods were less sympathetic. He once met a priest of the black Goat. And killed him after the dark gibberish the man delivered started to get on his nerves. He had met several Septons, self-righteous hypocrites, denying themselves every fine pleasure that made life worth living. He had killed several of them. And fucked a Septa. But never before had he met a Red Priestess. Noelle was hot, in more way than one, but something in her behaviour was cold, methodical, analytic in a way Marak did not like at all. And she never got angry. A few days ago, nea Horn Hill, two thugs had started to harass her. One of them had hit her in the face and left a small cut on her cheek. In her calmest voice she had ordered Marak to kill both of them. Marak obeyed. And Noelle had been composed as always. Marak wasn't scared of a woman, he wasn't even afraid of any man. But Noelle had something on her that sent shivers down his spine. Her cryptical way of speaking really got on his nerves and no doubt that was one of the reasons he was so angry in the last few days! He slammed his fist down the table again. “Screw your rollmop...”, he growled.
Noelles gaze hardened for a moment. “R'hllor...”, she hissed. “I tolerate your behaviour. Your violent antics. Your excessive swearing. Your drinking. But I won't tolerate you mocking the one true god” Her voice sounded hard as stone for a moment and Marak had to close his eyes to avoid her burning stare. Why did he feel the need to apologize? He never apologized!
“Do you understand?”, she asked, her voice gaining sharpness with every word. Marak gulped and had to give her a short nod. “Good”, she remarked, before looking at the guests. “Raylansfair is four, maybe three days away if we're lucky. While you took a leak, I talked to a merchant who just came from there. Apparently the old lord is dead. Until the king names a successor, his castellan is the acting lord. However, the king is a busy man. It could take months until he decides in that matter. Months we don't have. That's why we should try out best to get on good terms with this castellan, do you understand?”, she explained. Marak gave her an annoyed nod. “I am not stupid Noelle. And I told you earlier, I don't care about your plans”, he growled.
Noelle gave him a mild smile. “Oh, but you should. My plans affect us all, for they prepare the arrival of the Chosen One and will help him in bringing fire to all of Westeros”, she said and now Marak gave her a slightly curious look. There it was. This stuff about 'bringing fire'. He wasn't afraid of fire. In his years as a mercenary, he had set countless fires. But something told him that Noelle did not plan to just burn everything down. Her plans were far more terrifying than that. “What do you mean?”, he finally asked the question that has been burning in his mind since they first met.
Noelles gaze became a bit enraptured as she looked at the candle. “Fire and Blood, Marak. The Chosen One will come with fire and blood” Yeah, now that was informative... Before he could say something again Noelle continued to talk. “There will be death. Lots of death. I don't know who is going to die, the Lords visions aren't that detailed. But I see His Chosen One triumphing, if I help him. He will bring fire and blood to those who refuse to bend their knee to him. He will bring peace and justice to those who follow him. He will be loved. Revered. He will defeat the Great Other, the Lord's only enemy. He will defeat winter, the night that never ends and the cold itself. The Lord watches our steps, Marak. His light shines down upon us. And with his blessing we can help his Chosen One to triumph against the forces of winter”, she explained.
Marak shook his head in confusion. He kinda liked the winter from time to time. And there was nothing as refreshing as taking a cold bath after a long day of fighting. In his eyes, there was nothing wrong with a bit of cold, if the alternative would mean being like Noelle.
“And how can this Raylansfair be of any help? I mean, I have never even heard of it before!”, Marak exclaimed. Noelle chuckled. “There are many things you haven't heard of before. Personal hygiene, for example. Or sophisticated language. That does not mean these things aren't powerful”, she explained. Now... Marak was almost certain that this has been an insult! He opened his mouth to protest, but Noelle cut him off again. “Raylansfair has an archive. A historical archive, to be precise. It is without a doubt the most complete historical archive outside of the Jade Library in Yi Ti. In Asshai I found an excerpt of this archive, stolen by a Valyrian thief, almost two thousand years ago. The things I've learned there has opened my eyes. And the things this excerpt was hinting at have been even more interesting. Apparently the archive has hidden chambers, tunnels who reach down deep into the earth, chambers who haven't been opened in thousands of years. These dense oafs don't even know how old their own archive is. The treasures they have inside...”, she said and shivered in rapture.
“Before you ask... yes I'm also talking about spells here. These insular idiots at the Citadel claim that magic has started to die out thousands of years ago. From what I know, they might be right, this one time at least. They call Valyria the last ember, for the dragonlords have been once powerful in sorcery. But even before the doom came upon Valyria, the dragonlords sorcery got weaker. The magic of your Age of Heroes has indeed started to die out. But that does not mean it has no power anymore. You know that, don't you?”, she explained.
Marak looked at her, quite confused. “You know, I don't understand even half of what you're saying, don't you?”, he said, but that has been only half the truth. Like every man he heard stories about magic. How it was all but gone. How it was somehow still practised in distant regions, like Asshai or Qarth. And like any clever man, Marak didn't want to deal with magic. This was probably the thing that terrified him the most in Noelle. What she did... some of the things she did couldn't be explained, not even by a man of his intellect. The visions she had when looking into the fire. How she was always able to start a fire, even with damp wood. How she never felt cold, even when all she was ever wearing was that thin red dress.
“So, what are you suggesting? We just go there and break into the archive?”, he asked. That was something that interested him more. He didn't need to know why she was doing all of this, he didn't even want to know it. But he wanted to know what he should do there. Noelle gave him a warm smile. “Of course not. We try to get into contact with this acting lord. The merchant told me that the old lords death has been more than mysterious. That his Maester committed suicide afterwards. The acting lord is rumoured to be a suspect. He will be surely grateful if we help him. With your muscles and the blessing of the Lord, this should pose no problem for us. We're not just breaking into the archive, they are going to invite us in”, she explained, before standing up.
“We are here today for this man”, she said and pointed at a man who sat by himself in a corner. He was obviously a knight, albeit he wasn't wearing full armour. His brown hair was at shoulder-length and he had a trimmed beard. From what Marak could tell, the man looked like a true warrior, worthy of respect. “Who is this?”, he asked.
Noelle shrugged. “I don't know. I asked the lord for a vision of a man who could help us and he showed me this man. A knight obviously. Likely in service of House Raylan. It will be your job to befriend him”, she explained. Marak chuckled. Befriending a knight? “Listen, Noelle, you hired me for one thing: Killing people. That's something I am good at. I don't make friends easily”, he said and was careful not to speak too fast for her crazy brain.
Noelles smile faded. “Well, you will befriend this one. If you haven't noticed, I am a woman. There is only one way I could befriend him and that's something I don't do anymore. He is a warrior. You are a warrior. And he is obviously a man on a mission. Find out what he wants. Help him. Win his trust, for he will be our key to the archive”, she commanded. “In the meantime, I will go to my room and try to find out more about the plans our Lord has for us”
With these words, Noelle stood up and started to go to the room she had rented for herself. Marak shrugged. Yeah, befriending someone. Nothing could be easier... For someone who had such a great knowledge about the world, Noelle was pretty fucking stupid sometimes. But she commanded. He obeyed. With a sigh, Marak stood up and started to walk towards the knights table. The man saw him coming and narrowed his eyes, so Marak forced himself to give him a friendly smile. Or something resembling a friendly smile. Fuck this, he wasn't drunken enough to be friendly!
“Ah... Good evening, Ser...”, he started. “The name is Marak...” By the Drowned God, he was bad at this! The knight narrowed his eyes even further and Marak noticed a nasty scar over his left eye. “Ser Darren Tallwood”, the man growled. Yeah, that could have been better. He needed a strategy for this, quick!
[Try to be charming][Try to be polite][Try to be friendly][Be yourself]
Two parts in split posts again, this time apparently even over two different pages! You know how it goes.
Maya
“Are we there yet?”
… more Maya clenched her teeth and looked at her involuntary companion. Irving Todd was a short man, around Mayas height, but more than twice her weight, with shoulder length brown hair and light blue eyes. His small moustache could have looked handsome on a dashing Braavosi sellsword, but on him it looked quite ridiculous. And he was wearing his plain grey armour, as always. A direct order from the Bronze Lord and an order Irving gladly followed. Considering the conversations she had with Irving, Maya was certain that this armour had saved him more than once in his life. While she certainly was not a violent woman, during the past five days she had fought the urge to throw him overboard every second of the day.
“Maya, have you heard me? I asked you a question. Are we there yet?”, he asked again. His voice … [view original content]
Marak
Don't look into the fire Marak...
Don't look into the fire...
Marak looked directly into the fire, the fire of the small cand… morele, looking for any signs of visions, seeing nothing. Ah, damn it! During the past week, he had caught himself doing this, over and over. There were days were he looked into the flame until his eyes started to hurt, until dark shadows started to dance in the corner of his eyes. There were days where he thought that he could see something. Figures, dancing in the flames, like animals fighting each other. Then he realized that he saw nothing. It was stupid! And not what he should do! Right now, he should fuck some girl in the Stormlands or split some skulls. Or do both on a particularly good day.
But it wasn't a good day. He was sitting here in a shady inn somewhere near Highgarden, together with Noelle, the craziest girl he had ever met. And he was drinking the worst ale he had ever drank! It was a swee… [view original content]
Marak
Don't look into the fire Marak...
Don't look into the fire...
Marak looked directly into the fire, the fire of the small cand… morele, looking for any signs of visions, seeing nothing. Ah, damn it! During the past week, he had caught himself doing this, over and over. There were days were he looked into the flame until his eyes started to hurt, until dark shadows started to dance in the corner of his eyes. There were days where he thought that he could see something. Figures, dancing in the flames, like animals fighting each other. Then he realized that he saw nothing. It was stupid! And not what he should do! Right now, he should fuck some girl in the Stormlands or split some skulls. Or do both on a particularly good day.
But it wasn't a good day. He was sitting here in a shady inn somewhere near Highgarden, together with Noelle, the craziest girl he had ever met. And he was drinking the worst ale he had ever drank! It was a swee… [view original content]
Two parts in split posts again, this time apparently even over two different pages! You know how it goes.
Maya
“Are we there yet?”
… more Maya clenched her teeth and looked at her involuntary companion. Irving Todd was a short man, around Mayas height, but more than twice her weight, with shoulder length brown hair and light blue eyes. His small moustache could have looked handsome on a dashing Braavosi sellsword, but on him it looked quite ridiculous. And he was wearing his plain grey armour, as always. A direct order from the Bronze Lord and an order Irving gladly followed. Considering the conversations she had with Irving, Maya was certain that this armour had saved him more than once in his life. While she certainly was not a violent woman, during the past five days she had fought the urge to throw him overboard every second of the day.
“Maya, have you heard me? I asked you a question. Are we there yet?”, he asked again. His voice … [view original content]
Two parts in split posts again, this time apparently even over two different pages! You know how it goes.
Maya
“Are we there yet?”
… more Maya clenched her teeth and looked at her involuntary companion. Irving Todd was a short man, around Mayas height, but more than twice her weight, with shoulder length brown hair and light blue eyes. His small moustache could have looked handsome on a dashing Braavosi sellsword, but on him it looked quite ridiculous. And he was wearing his plain grey armour, as always. A direct order from the Bronze Lord and an order Irving gladly followed. Considering the conversations she had with Irving, Maya was certain that this armour had saved him more than once in his life. While she certainly was not a violent woman, during the past five days she had fought the urge to throw him overboard every second of the day.
“Maya, have you heard me? I asked you a question. Are we there yet?”, he asked again. His voice … [view original content]
Marak
Don't look into the fire Marak...
Don't look into the fire...
Marak looked directly into the fire, the fire of the small cand… morele, looking for any signs of visions, seeing nothing. Ah, damn it! During the past week, he had caught himself doing this, over and over. There were days were he looked into the flame until his eyes started to hurt, until dark shadows started to dance in the corner of his eyes. There were days where he thought that he could see something. Figures, dancing in the flames, like animals fighting each other. Then he realized that he saw nothing. It was stupid! And not what he should do! Right now, he should fuck some girl in the Stormlands or split some skulls. Or do both on a particularly good day.
But it wasn't a good day. He was sitting here in a shady inn somewhere near Highgarden, together with Noelle, the craziest girl he had ever met. And he was drinking the worst ale he had ever drank! It was a swee… [view original content]
Loved both parts! Maya, Gregar and Irving make an interesting and funny team Actually the same goes for Marak&Noelle. And I'm so happy that Marak is back! It's funny how he thinks he's somehow intelligent man XD
Marak
Don't look into the fire Marak...
Don't look into the fire...
Marak looked directly into the fire, the fire of the small cand… morele, looking for any signs of visions, seeing nothing. Ah, damn it! During the past week, he had caught himself doing this, over and over. There were days were he looked into the flame until his eyes started to hurt, until dark shadows started to dance in the corner of his eyes. There were days where he thought that he could see something. Figures, dancing in the flames, like animals fighting each other. Then he realized that he saw nothing. It was stupid! And not what he should do! Right now, he should fuck some girl in the Stormlands or split some skulls. Or do both on a particularly good day.
But it wasn't a good day. He was sitting here in a shady inn somewhere near Highgarden, together with Noelle, the craziest girl he had ever met. And he was drinking the worst ale he had ever drank! It was a swee… [view original content]
Two parts in split posts again, this time apparently even over two different pages! You know how it goes.
Maya
“Are we there yet?”
… more Maya clenched her teeth and looked at her involuntary companion. Irving Todd was a short man, around Mayas height, but more than twice her weight, with shoulder length brown hair and light blue eyes. His small moustache could have looked handsome on a dashing Braavosi sellsword, but on him it looked quite ridiculous. And he was wearing his plain grey armour, as always. A direct order from the Bronze Lord and an order Irving gladly followed. Considering the conversations she had with Irving, Maya was certain that this armour had saved him more than once in his life. While she certainly was not a violent woman, during the past five days she had fought the urge to throw him overboard every second of the day.
“Maya, have you heard me? I asked you a question. Are we there yet?”, he asked again. His voice … [view original content]
Hi Liquid! Sorry I haven't been able to get to reading this or voting despite me submitting a couple characters. School has just been such a pain but since I finally finished my midterms, I finally have some free time! So I spent my day catching up on this story, and it's amazing so far! I will try to be as active as possible, again, great work!
[Give up one dagger]
Sorry if I'm replying to the wrong part, I haven't gotten used to this yet, lol.
Two parts in split posts again, this time apparently even over two different pages! You know how it goes.
Maya
“Are we there yet?”
… more Maya clenched her teeth and looked at her involuntary companion. Irving Todd was a short man, around Mayas height, but more than twice her weight, with shoulder length brown hair and light blue eyes. His small moustache could have looked handsome on a dashing Braavosi sellsword, but on him it looked quite ridiculous. And he was wearing his plain grey armour, as always. A direct order from the Bronze Lord and an order Irving gladly followed. Considering the conversations she had with Irving, Maya was certain that this armour had saved him more than once in his life. While she certainly was not a violent woman, during the past five days she had fought the urge to throw him overboard every second of the day.
“Maya, have you heard me? I asked you a question. Are we there yet?”, he asked again. His voice … [view original content]
Thanks, I'm glad that you like it. Your characters are great btw!
You're not exactly replying to the wrong part, there is just a second PoV with another choice on the next page, that was splitted due to the post-length limit. That the parts are splitted between two pages this time is a bit unfortunate, but you're not the only one who hasn't noticed
Hi Liquid! Sorry I haven't been able to get to reading this or voting despite me submitting a couple characters. School has just been such a… more pain but since I finally finished my midterms, I finally have some free time! So I spent my day catching up on this story, and it's amazing so far! I will try to be as active as possible, again, great work!
[Give up one dagger]
Sorry if I'm replying to the wrong part, I haven't gotten used to this yet, lol.
Comments
[Tell Septoj Corbin the truth]
[Tell Septon Corbin the truth]
[Tell Septon Corbin the truth] I hope I'm not going to regret this...
[tell septon Corbin the truth]
[Tell Septon Corbin the truth]
Nothing wrong with telling the truth right? Oh wait......
Right now they are not. However, once they reach Oldtown, they could send a raven to Raylansfair.
[Tell Septon Corbin the truth]
[Tell Septon Corbin the truth]
Five new characters. Hope you enjoy it
YOLO!
[Tell Septon Corbin the truth]
Amazing!!
PS: Do you know who are you going to draw next?
I know. I was just asking if he already send you the list. But apparentally not
Still no. I don't choose them.
Liquid send me a list of 5 characters, trying to pick some important and some secondary. In order to satisfy everyone
As I send this today, he didn't send me 5 new descriptions.
Ilhan you sexy fucking bastard
Me like
and is it bad that I kinda want to fuck my own character now
because I would totally fuck Ilhan given the chance
Oh yes, I like these very much. Thank you again for the amazing drawings!
My favourite this time has to be John Gutten, who looks incredibly badass and exactly how I imagined him. Now I can't wait to write more for him! The rest is great too! I love the amount of detail in them, especially with Janae.
By the way: Just sent you 5 new characters
Dayum, Gutten is a badass
great work, again!
Are people crazy???? {Lie to Septon Corbin}
Well , yes and you too. You voted to run after the killer , which probably got Richard killed. Didn´t you never see horror movies?
[Tell Septon Corbin the truth]
These are even better, I think I like Jenna the most. Janae gives me a Katniss vibe.
[Lie to Septon Corbin]
The Voting is closed!
Jenna will tell Septon Corbin the truth
Again, I am surprised by the unambiguity of this choice. Not necessarily surprised in a bad way though. Seems like most of you trust the Septon. We'll see how that plays out
By the way, at the end of Book 1, meaning way into the future, I have plans to give you an overview over the alternate choices. The storyline has been formed heavily by your decisions so far, with the consequences already carrying over the whole Book and in some cases even beyond.
The new part is halfway written and will consist of two long POV's. I try to finish it in the next hours, but tomorrow is a more likely guess.
Jenna = dead
Are people dumb or they just want all the Harking family dead? XD
How many characters you have for the Dornish Marches? (or at least is how i remember it was called xd)
So far I have your soldiers and a few other characters that will definitely be introduced in the Marches, should the storyline go there.
A concrete number is hard to guess though, since many characters might end up in the Marches depending on your choices. I also don't know how big this location will end up, since I only have some early plans to include them.
Two parts in split posts again, this time apparently even over two different pages! You know how it goes.
Maya
“Are we there yet?”
Maya clenched her teeth and looked at her involuntary companion. Irving Todd was a short man, around Mayas height, but more than twice her weight, with shoulder length brown hair and light blue eyes. His small moustache could have looked handsome on a dashing Braavosi sellsword, but on him it looked quite ridiculous. And he was wearing his plain grey armour, as always. A direct order from the Bronze Lord and an order Irving gladly followed. Considering the conversations she had with Irving, Maya was certain that this armour had saved him more than once in his life. While she certainly was not a violent woman, during the past five days she had fought the urge to throw him overboard every second of the day.
“Maya, have you heard me? I asked you a question. Are we there yet?”, he asked again. His voice was high-pitched and squawking and probably his worst physical trait. Maya suppressed the urge to cover her ears, but couldn't refrain to let out an annoyed sigh. It has been five days since they have left Gulltown. Ever since, Irving started to get on her nerves. And not only on hers. Gregar kept mostly to himself, spending his days alone on the deck, feeding his owl with mice, later with fish. Yet, right now, even he had a visibly annoyed look on his face. Maya gave Irving a sharp glare. “Not. Yet. Irving”, she hissed. Irving looked at her as if she had insulted his mother. “Yeah, you could have said that nicer...”, he moaned. Maya shivered and turned around to Gregar, who shook his head. “If you don't kill him, sooner or later I will”, he mumbled, while gently petting his owl. “But you can tell him we're almost there”, he added. Maya looked at the shore that could be seen in the distance. The past five days had been okay, apart from the fact that she had to spend them with Irving. They sailed on board of a small ship across the Bay of Crabs, the strait that separated the Vale of Arryn and the peninsula of Crackclaw Point. In the early morning, it was Irving who saw the coast first, even before the lookout saw it. Ever since he wouldn't shut up about it.
Crackclaw Point. Maya remembered what she had been told about the peninsula. The First Men had driven the Children of the Forest to extinction there and settled down for several thousand of years. Crackclaw Point was a rugged and densely forested area, with countless valleys in it. Every valley had it's own lord. All of them distrusted outsiders and none of them trusted each other. Territory conflicts or even full-blown war between two houses were common. And even the most powerful lord of Crackclaw Point was still poorer than a rich commoner from Gulltown. They were proud people, who never bowed to the Andals, until they had been convinced through marriage to join the Andal kingdoms. Until then, they had repelled the Darklyn kings of Duskendale, the Mooton kings of Maidenpool and even the Celtigars of Claw Isle, who descended from the blood of Valyria. The lords held nominal allegiance either to the Storm King or to the King of the Isles and Rivers, but held feasts with lords from the other kingdom, while fighting fierce wars against lords who should be on their side. They were wayward, stubborn and usually not very welcoming people. And Maya was about to land on their territory, unannounced and largely unprepared. In the distance, she saw the Dyre Den, seat of House Brune, one of the more important houses of Crackclaw Point and nominally sworn to Harren Hoare. The castle was smaller than some houses in Gulltown, with three crooked towers and scrawny looking banners on each of them, depicting some sort of fish eating a small red man.
Irving stepped next to her. “I'd say Lord Brune is already expecting our arrival. I see five men on the shore, wearing chainmail, a sixth in more heavy armour, likely the leader. Looks like his whole guard stepped up to greet us”, he said. Maya looked at him, quite surprised. She barely saw anyone on the shore. That was probably the only useful skill Irving really possessed. He had phenomenal eyesight, far better than anything Maya had ever seen. Even Gregar seemed to be slightly impressed. “Now if your cooking could be equally good, you wouldn't be such a fucking annoyance anymore”, he grumbled, which gave him a sharp glare from Irving. “Do you have a problem with my cooking, Gregar?”
Gregar sighed and shook his head. “Not even Ember eats muck like this”, he explained, to which Irving gave an annoying laugh. “Of course not, since your damn bird only likes mice and the worst part of fish. Oh and it's own shit. I forgot the shit”, he moaned, before throwing his hands in the air. “But fine, if none of you appreciates my cooking, why don't we let Ember cook? I'm sure she can cook delicious raw mice”
Gregar gave Maya a sharp look. “Can I please throw him overboard? We are close to the shore, he will most likely manage to survive”, he growled. Maya let out a short laugh. As annoying the situation was, seeing Gregar even more annoyed than her was delightful. “You expect Irving Todd to swim a few hundred metres? Gregar, that is just cruel”, she smiled. To her surprise, Gregar even smiled back. “Well, I've heard slavers from Essos occasionally land on these cliffs. If we're lucky we can strike a deal with them”, he chuckled. Maya took a look at Irving, who was just picking his nose and shook her head. “We would have to pay them to convince them taking Irving”, she answered.
Gregar looked at the shore. “I would be willing to pay more than I earn the whole year if that means we get rid of Irving”, he grumbled, before suddenly sounding very serious. “You have to be careful around here. Lord Trymon Brune is an old and embittered man. His own sons shun him and prefer to run after pretty girls in Maidenpool instead of staying with him. He had to sell his daughter into marriage with the old Lord Crabb. He is an embittered man with little love for the Vale and even less love for his own kingdom. He only cares for himself. The fact that he has people awaiting our arrival does not seem right to me. Stay alert!”
The tone in his voice worried Maya as she looked up at the Dyre Den. She was an ambassador or Runestone. Would Lord Brune really dare to hinder her on her journey? A petty lord like him against the wrath of the Bronze Lord? Nobody could be that stupid...
They arrived at the shore with a small rowboat, after they had paid the captain extra for it. Of course, Gregar was the only one to actually row. He insisted that Maya did not do it. She already wore the black cloak she got from Lord Royce, the cloak that showed her identity as the ambassador of Runestone. Rowing was beneath her now. After much whining and moaning, Irving agreed to row, but almost managed to sink the boat. After that Gregar was happy to do it alone. And he was a quite skilled rower, bringing them safely to the shore in only half an hour. The shore of the Dyre Den was a rocky, but densely forested area. To their left was a huge cliff, the castle on top. To their right were a few rundown houses, about half a dozen people on the streets between them, pale-faced and sad looking men and women, emaciated children and gnarled elders And five men, armed with chainmail and longswords, like Irving said. Their leader was the only one who looked like he had any kind of fighting experience. He wore black, plated armour and a short red cloak. His hair was short at the sides, but slightly longer on top, combined with a short and well-kempt beard. The stern look in his grey eyes hardened considerably as he looked at Maya.
As he approached, Maya saw something moving in the forest in front of her. Ember started to shriek and flew into the air, as a large black wolf stepped up. No... not a wolf. Wolves are not supposed to be that tall. Maya had seen pnoies who were smaller. That was clearly a direwolf! The beast sat down after a sharp glare from the man made it stop, but it still let out a deep growl
The man took an elegant bow in front of her. “Mylady”, he said, while carefully looking at Gregar and Irving. “My name is Ser Aldrik Wolver. I am in service of House Brune and have been tasked with finding out your identities” His voice was soft, but determined. Maya looked at Gregar who seemed very calm. Irving on the other hand was trembling and shaking, while he pointed at the direwolf. “What... Seven Hells, what is this beast?”, he stuttered. Ser Aldrik gave him a sharp glare. “This is no beast, this is a direwolf. My loyal companion, Knightfang. I can assure you, he does not bite, unless I allow it”, he explained. Knightfang? Well, luckily there were no knights among her small group.
Irvings face got pale and for a short moment he looked like he was about to faint. Maya shook her head in disbelief. What a coward! She took a short bow in front of the knight before she answered. “My name is Maya Iresons, Ambassador of Runestone and the Kingdom of Mountain and Vale. These are my companions, Gregar Balvind and Irving Todd. We are on our way to the Reach, to negotiate for Lord Orson Royce of Runestone. We wish to replenish our supplies at the Dyre Den before going our way”, she answered. Ser Aldrik gave his men a short look. Maya gulped and looked over at Gregar. Her companion had a hand on the small hatchet at his belt. She herself was armed with her two daggers, but had carefully concealed them before leaving the ship. She disliked the way Ser Aldirk looked at his men.
“Ambassador of Runestone...”, he said slowly. His direwolf growled. “In that case I have to insist on taking you to Lord Brune. He would like a word with you”, Aldrik said. Gregar shook his head. “No fucking way. We are not here to talk to Lord Brune. You can't force us”, he hissed. One of the men started to laugh but was quickly silenced by a sharp glare from Ser Aldrik. “Take a look at my men and rethink your statement, Ser. As a matter of fact, I can force you. I would prefer not to. Lord Brune gave me strict orders to bring any person of interest to him. Come with me peacefully and nothing will happen. Lord Brune only wishes to talk. Of course, you have to give up your weapons first”, he said and looked at Maya.
She met his gaze with her own furious glare.“Like Gregar said. No. Fucking. Way”, she answered. She had no time to deal with a petty lord whose ego was so much more bigger than his name! She acted on behalf of Runestone and the Vale. Besides, Lord Brune was a Riverlord, if only by name. She would never trust someone who was under the command of Harren the Black! Ser Aldrik sighed and made a short nod with his head. His direwolf responded with a sudden jump and let out a deep howl, slowly approaching the group.
Irving went down on his knees, screaming in terror, fumbling at his sheet, before finally managing to throw his sword away. “Take it!”, he screamed. “Take it! Keep it! I don't even want it! Just have mercy!” Two soldiers approached Gregar, who took out his hatchet, looking determined to start a fight. Maya could understand him. She would like nothing better than to fight her way to freedom. But Irving was no real help and Gregar couldn't take on them alone. She herself had several years of training and she was certain that she could defeat any of these men. They were no soldiers, likely nothing more than local farm boys who got a sword and rudimentary training. Ser Aldrik on the other hand...
“Please, Ambassador Iresons. There is no need for violence”, the knight said softly. His sword was still in his sheath, his hands raised, almost as if he was negotiating. But this wasn't a negotiation. This was a capture. “You're about to take us hostage, Ser Aldrik”, Maya answered with a sharp glare. It took a long time to make her angry, but now the point was reached. Ser Aldrik shook his head. “I am simply following orders. Lord Brune hired me to bring persons of interest to him, not to kill them”, he explained. Gregar spat on the ground, his face full of disdain. “Hired? So we're getting captured by a fucking mercenary and delivered to a petty lord who hasn't even enough men to do it himself?”, he growled. “And you're telling me this petty lord is stupid enough to provoke Orson Royce?”
Ser Aldrik shook his head. “Like I said. I follow orders. I am not provoking anyone and I don't know about the lords intention. But the orders have been very strict. I shall bring persons of interest to him, unarmed, so he can have a talk with them. And I would say the Ambassador of Runestone is a person of interest”, he explained again, this time slightly less calm. When he looked at Maya, his glare was hard as iron. “Ambassador Iresons, one of your men has given up. Your second companion is very stubborn. You don't carry any weapons and he stands alone against six men and Knightfang. This is suicide, Ambassador. Order him to stand down, or face the consequences”, he said with emphasis. Maya looked at Gregar. Her companion seemed to be intent on fighting his way out of this. But this was suicide. She couldn't let him sacrifice himself. “Gregar...”, she said softly. “Surrender. This is an order”
Gregar looked at her, his gaze a mixture of relief and anger. “Fuck this. If anything happens to us, the Bronze Lord will have your heads”, he grumbled, but threw his hatchet on the ground regardless. Ser Aldrik gave her an approving nod. “I am relieved this didn't end in violence. Now, Ambassador Iresons, I won't allow anyone armed near Lord Brune. Do you have any weapons with you?”, he asked. He didn't knew about her daggers! He really didn't knew!
“Aren't you going to search me either way, Ser Aldrik?”, she asked. The mercenary seemed to be genuinely surprised by this, if not offended. “Searching you? I am a man of honour and you are a lady of the Vale. I won't touch you in any unfitting way, Ambassador. I have to take your word. But know that I have a hard time believing that a woman like you travels unarmed. And know that I won't refrain from killing you, should you attack Lord Brune”, he said. Maya closed her eyes. She had two daggers with her. Two daggers that could be handy when negotiations with Lord Brune went out of hand... On the other hand, she believed Ser Aldrik when he said that he would kill her. He was no man who would lie like that...
[Give up both daggers] [Give up one dagger] [Keep both daggers]
Marak
Don't look into the fire Marak...
Don't look into the fire...
Marak looked directly into the fire, the fire of the small candle, looking for any signs of visions, seeing nothing. Ah, damn it! During the past week, he had caught himself doing this, over and over. There were days were he looked into the flame until his eyes started to hurt, until dark shadows started to dance in the corner of his eyes. There were days where he thought that he could see something. Figures, dancing in the flames, like animals fighting each other. Then he realized that he saw nothing. It was stupid! And not what he should do! Right now, he should fuck some girl in the Stormlands or split some skulls. Or do both on a particularly good day.
But it wasn't a good day. He was sitting here in a shady inn somewhere near Highgarden, together with Noelle, the craziest girl he had ever met. And he was drinking the worst ale he had ever drank! It was a sweet, disgusting reddish ale, served in glasses instead of wodden mugs. It had no head, it was warmer than ale should be and it was all in all disgusting. He couldn't even get drunk from it like he should be. Noelle drank only water, like always. She refrained from drinking beer or anything like that. They had rarely talked after the incident in the house. She had a nasty cough for several days and for a short while Marak was slightly worried that he had permanently damaged her throat, somehow. He simply had no knowledge in choking someone non-lethally. But the priestess did not held it against him. He had to tell her what he had seen in the vision, again and again. After a while, the cough faded, her voice returned to her usual melodic tone. And then she had told him something too. Told him how blessed he was, that he was a chosen of rollmop. That the Lord of Light didn't talk to anyone. That he was something special. Yeah, that last part had always been clear to him. But still, he didn't want to be special in that way. Noelle had told him about Raylansfair. Apparently there was something in the archive she desired. Something powerful. Right... as if Noelle without something powerful in her hands didn't terrify him enough from time to time...
Marak snapped out of his thoughts just in time to grab the barmaids arm. “More ale, wench”, he grumbled. “And this time bring me your good stuff. Not this piss!”, he added. The barmaid looked at his glass and smirked. “I believe it is wine, m'lord”, she explained. Marak looked at her in disbelief for a moment. Was that dim-witted wench trying to mock him? “Less talking. More serving”, he growled, before he let the girl go. Noelle looked up. “You seem to be in a bad mood today”, she remarked. Seriously? Did she saw that in her flames? For days now, Marak had felt this urge to kill something, or at the very least to break something. The urge had always been there, sometimes he had given in to it, sometimes he had suppressed it. But the vision in the flames had brought out the worst in him. He felt like killing something every minute. Right now he looked at Noelle. And not for the first time during the past week, he asked himself if it was worth following her around, following her orders like an obedient little dog. “No shit, Noelle? How can you tell that?”, he answered in an annoyed tone. Noelle gave him a warm smile. “No need to be sarcastic, Marak. It doesn't suit you”, she answered and Marak wasn't sure if she just insulted him somehow. “I am just worried, that's all. You seem aggressive”
Marak slammed his fist down on the table. “Aggressive? Do I seem aggressive to you? After I almost broke your fucking neck?”, he hissed. At first he had been intrigued by her. He still was, albeit now there were times where her almost casual tone of conversation pissed him off. How could she always remain so calm? It would help if she was pissed at him. He had a long history of women being pissed at him, from Karhold to Sunspear, from Yunkai to Pyke. But never before had a woman actually forgiven him for attempting to murder her. And right now he had no other words for what he almost did. Was he sorry? No... Not sorry. But he was angry. Not at himself and not entirely at Noelle but at everyone else. Oh, how he wanted to burn this whole place to the ground, with their snarky wenches and their piss-ale!
Noelles smile faded. “You did almost kill me, I won't lie. But the Lord decided that I was not meant to die that day. That you were not meant to kill me. I have trust in R'hllor. He is my fire in the darkness. I am not afraid as long as his flame burns inside of me”, she explained. Marak shook his head. A fire burning inside of her? That would explain the strange warmth. Still, it must hurt like hell! There were days where Noelles crazy ramblings made no sense, not even to him. He just couldn't understand these religious types. The Drowned God was alright of course. Any god that explicitly commanded it's followers to pillage and plunder was a god Marak could follow. Other gods were less sympathetic. He once met a priest of the black Goat. And killed him after the dark gibberish the man delivered started to get on his nerves. He had met several Septons, self-righteous hypocrites, denying themselves every fine pleasure that made life worth living. He had killed several of them. And fucked a Septa. But never before had he met a Red Priestess. Noelle was hot, in more way than one, but something in her behaviour was cold, methodical, analytic in a way Marak did not like at all. And she never got angry. A few days ago, nea Horn Hill, two thugs had started to harass her. One of them had hit her in the face and left a small cut on her cheek. In her calmest voice she had ordered Marak to kill both of them. Marak obeyed. And Noelle had been composed as always. Marak wasn't scared of a woman, he wasn't even afraid of any man. But Noelle had something on her that sent shivers down his spine. Her cryptical way of speaking really got on his nerves and no doubt that was one of the reasons he was so angry in the last few days! He slammed his fist down the table again. “Screw your rollmop...”, he growled.
Noelles gaze hardened for a moment. “R'hllor...”, she hissed. “I tolerate your behaviour. Your violent antics. Your excessive swearing. Your drinking. But I won't tolerate you mocking the one true god” Her voice sounded hard as stone for a moment and Marak had to close his eyes to avoid her burning stare. Why did he feel the need to apologize? He never apologized!
“Do you understand?”, she asked, her voice gaining sharpness with every word. Marak gulped and had to give her a short nod. “Good”, she remarked, before looking at the guests. “Raylansfair is four, maybe three days away if we're lucky. While you took a leak, I talked to a merchant who just came from there. Apparently the old lord is dead. Until the king names a successor, his castellan is the acting lord. However, the king is a busy man. It could take months until he decides in that matter. Months we don't have. That's why we should try out best to get on good terms with this castellan, do you understand?”, she explained. Marak gave her an annoyed nod. “I am not stupid Noelle. And I told you earlier, I don't care about your plans”, he growled.
Noelle gave him a mild smile. “Oh, but you should. My plans affect us all, for they prepare the arrival of the Chosen One and will help him in bringing fire to all of Westeros”, she said and now Marak gave her a slightly curious look. There it was. This stuff about 'bringing fire'. He wasn't afraid of fire. In his years as a mercenary, he had set countless fires. But something told him that Noelle did not plan to just burn everything down. Her plans were far more terrifying than that. “What do you mean?”, he finally asked the question that has been burning in his mind since they first met.
Noelles gaze became a bit enraptured as she looked at the candle. “Fire and Blood, Marak. The Chosen One will come with fire and blood” Yeah, now that was informative... Before he could say something again Noelle continued to talk. “There will be death. Lots of death. I don't know who is going to die, the Lords visions aren't that detailed. But I see His Chosen One triumphing, if I help him. He will bring fire and blood to those who refuse to bend their knee to him. He will bring peace and justice to those who follow him. He will be loved. Revered. He will defeat the Great Other, the Lord's only enemy. He will defeat winter, the night that never ends and the cold itself. The Lord watches our steps, Marak. His light shines down upon us. And with his blessing we can help his Chosen One to triumph against the forces of winter”, she explained.
Marak shook his head in confusion. He kinda liked the winter from time to time. And there was nothing as refreshing as taking a cold bath after a long day of fighting. In his eyes, there was nothing wrong with a bit of cold, if the alternative would mean being like Noelle.
“And how can this Raylansfair be of any help? I mean, I have never even heard of it before!”, Marak exclaimed. Noelle chuckled. “There are many things you haven't heard of before. Personal hygiene, for example. Or sophisticated language. That does not mean these things aren't powerful”, she explained. Now... Marak was almost certain that this has been an insult! He opened his mouth to protest, but Noelle cut him off again. “Raylansfair has an archive. A historical archive, to be precise. It is without a doubt the most complete historical archive outside of the Jade Library in Yi Ti. In Asshai I found an excerpt of this archive, stolen by a Valyrian thief, almost two thousand years ago. The things I've learned there has opened my eyes. And the things this excerpt was hinting at have been even more interesting. Apparently the archive has hidden chambers, tunnels who reach down deep into the earth, chambers who haven't been opened in thousands of years. These dense oafs don't even know how old their own archive is. The treasures they have inside...”, she said and shivered in rapture.
“Before you ask... yes I'm also talking about spells here. These insular idiots at the Citadel claim that magic has started to die out thousands of years ago. From what I know, they might be right, this one time at least. They call Valyria the last ember, for the dragonlords have been once powerful in sorcery. But even before the doom came upon Valyria, the dragonlords sorcery got weaker. The magic of your Age of Heroes has indeed started to die out. But that does not mean it has no power anymore. You know that, don't you?”, she explained.
Marak looked at her, quite confused. “You know, I don't understand even half of what you're saying, don't you?”, he said, but that has been only half the truth. Like every man he heard stories about magic. How it was all but gone. How it was somehow still practised in distant regions, like Asshai or Qarth. And like any clever man, Marak didn't want to deal with magic. This was probably the thing that terrified him the most in Noelle. What she did... some of the things she did couldn't be explained, not even by a man of his intellect. The visions she had when looking into the fire. How she was always able to start a fire, even with damp wood. How she never felt cold, even when all she was ever wearing was that thin red dress.
“So, what are you suggesting? We just go there and break into the archive?”, he asked. That was something that interested him more. He didn't need to know why she was doing all of this, he didn't even want to know it. But he wanted to know what he should do there. Noelle gave him a warm smile. “Of course not. We try to get into contact with this acting lord. The merchant told me that the old lords death has been more than mysterious. That his Maester committed suicide afterwards. The acting lord is rumoured to be a suspect. He will be surely grateful if we help him. With your muscles and the blessing of the Lord, this should pose no problem for us. We're not just breaking into the archive, they are going to invite us in”, she explained, before standing up.
“We are here today for this man”, she said and pointed at a man who sat by himself in a corner. He was obviously a knight, albeit he wasn't wearing full armour. His brown hair was at shoulder-length and he had a trimmed beard. From what Marak could tell, the man looked like a true warrior, worthy of respect. “Who is this?”, he asked.
Noelle shrugged. “I don't know. I asked the lord for a vision of a man who could help us and he showed me this man. A knight obviously. Likely in service of House Raylan. It will be your job to befriend him”, she explained. Marak chuckled. Befriending a knight? “Listen, Noelle, you hired me for one thing: Killing people. That's something I am good at. I don't make friends easily”, he said and was careful not to speak too fast for her crazy brain.
Noelles smile faded. “Well, you will befriend this one. If you haven't noticed, I am a woman. There is only one way I could befriend him and that's something I don't do anymore. He is a warrior. You are a warrior. And he is obviously a man on a mission. Find out what he wants. Help him. Win his trust, for he will be our key to the archive”, she commanded. “In the meantime, I will go to my room and try to find out more about the plans our Lord has for us”
With these words, Noelle stood up and started to go to the room she had rented for herself. Marak shrugged. Yeah, befriending someone. Nothing could be easier... For someone who had such a great knowledge about the world, Noelle was pretty fucking stupid sometimes. But she commanded. He obeyed. With a sigh, Marak stood up and started to walk towards the knights table. The man saw him coming and narrowed his eyes, so Marak forced himself to give him a friendly smile. Or something resembling a friendly smile. Fuck this, he wasn't drunken enough to be friendly!
“Ah... Good evening, Ser...”, he started. “The name is Marak...” By the Drowned God, he was bad at this! The knight narrowed his eyes even further and Marak noticed a nasty scar over his left eye. “Ser Darren Tallwood”, the man growled. Yeah, that could have been better. He needed a strategy for this, quick!
[Try to be charming] [Try to be polite] [Try to be friendly] [Be yourself]
{Give up one dagger}
[Give up one dagger]
[Try to be charming]
Awesome Chapter!!!!!!!
{Try to be friendly}
Try being the word.... I feel the priest is looking for a companion and that him this idiot is just the fall guy
[Give up one dagger]
Eh, close.
[Give up one dagger]
[Try to be charming]
[give up one dagger]
[be yourself]
[Give up one dagger]
[Try to be friendly]
Loved both parts! Maya, Gregar and Irving make an interesting and funny team
Actually the same goes for Marak&Noelle. And I'm so happy that Marak is back! It's funny how he thinks he's somehow intelligent man XD
[Give up one dagger]
Hi Liquid! Sorry I haven't been able to get to reading this or voting despite me submitting a couple characters. School has just been such a pain but since I finally finished my midterms, I finally have some free time! So I spent my day catching up on this story, and it's amazing so far! I will try to be as active as possible, again, great work!
[Give up one dagger]
Sorry if I'm replying to the wrong part, I haven't gotten used to this yet, lol.
Thanks, I'm glad that you like it. Your characters are great btw!
You're not exactly replying to the wrong part, there is just a second PoV with another choice on the next page, that was splitted due to the post-length limit. That the parts are splitted between two pages this time is a bit unfortunate, but you're not the only one who hasn't noticed