Jenna
As she looked at Carma's gentle face, she noticed how tired she really was. During the past five days, her sleep has been restless.… more In her dreams, she saw Ser Ilhan die, again and again. Sometimes it was Harris who killed him. Sometimes it was herself who fatally stabbed him. Yes, she knew that she never held the knife, that she never stabbed him. But she also knew that he would have been still alive if only she would have been able to control her curiosity. And this knowledge was worse than anything else. Harris was the monster who killed Ilhan. But she gave him the opportunity to do so. Inside of this castle, she wouldn't be able to sleep safe and sound again until Harris was gone. Considering her luck, she wouldn't be surprised if he would outlive her. But Carma had a family! Could she really get her into danger? Her father would have refused this offer. Her father would have faced Harris. But her father wasn't here. And she wasn'… [view original content]
Jenna
As she looked at Carma's gentle face, she noticed how tired she really was. During the past five days, her sleep has been restless.… more In her dreams, she saw Ser Ilhan die, again and again. Sometimes it was Harris who killed him. Sometimes it was herself who fatally stabbed him. Yes, she knew that she never held the knife, that she never stabbed him. But she also knew that he would have been still alive if only she would have been able to control her curiosity. And this knowledge was worse than anything else. Harris was the monster who killed Ilhan. But she gave him the opportunity to do so. Inside of this castle, she wouldn't be able to sleep safe and sound again until Harris was gone. Considering her luck, she wouldn't be surprised if he would outlive her. But Carma had a family! Could she really get her into danger? Her father would have refused this offer. Her father would have faced Harris. But her father wasn't here. And she wasn'… [view original content]
Jenna
As she looked at Carma's gentle face, she noticed how tired she really was. During the past five days, her sleep has been restless.… more In her dreams, she saw Ser Ilhan die, again and again. Sometimes it was Harris who killed him. Sometimes it was herself who fatally stabbed him. Yes, she knew that she never held the knife, that she never stabbed him. But she also knew that he would have been still alive if only she would have been able to control her curiosity. And this knowledge was worse than anything else. Harris was the monster who killed Ilhan. But she gave him the opportunity to do so. Inside of this castle, she wouldn't be able to sleep safe and sound again until Harris was gone. Considering her luck, she wouldn't be surprised if he would outlive her. But Carma had a family! Could she really get her into danger? Her father would have refused this offer. Her father would have faced Harris. But her father wasn't here. And she wasn'… [view original content]
Jenna
As she looked at Carma's gentle face, she noticed how tired she really was. During the past five days, her sleep has been restless.… more In her dreams, she saw Ser Ilhan die, again and again. Sometimes it was Harris who killed him. Sometimes it was herself who fatally stabbed him. Yes, she knew that she never held the knife, that she never stabbed him. But she also knew that he would have been still alive if only she would have been able to control her curiosity. And this knowledge was worse than anything else. Harris was the monster who killed Ilhan. But she gave him the opportunity to do so. Inside of this castle, she wouldn't be able to sleep safe and sound again until Harris was gone. Considering her luck, she wouldn't be surprised if he would outlive her. But Carma had a family! Could she really get her into danger? Her father would have refused this offer. Her father would have faced Harris. But her father wasn't here. And she wasn'… [view original content]
Jenna
As she looked at Carma's gentle face, she noticed how tired she really was. During the past five days, her sleep has been restless.… more In her dreams, she saw Ser Ilhan die, again and again. Sometimes it was Harris who killed him. Sometimes it was herself who fatally stabbed him. Yes, she knew that she never held the knife, that she never stabbed him. But she also knew that he would have been still alive if only she would have been able to control her curiosity. And this knowledge was worse than anything else. Harris was the monster who killed Ilhan. But she gave him the opportunity to do so. Inside of this castle, she wouldn't be able to sleep safe and sound again until Harris was gone. Considering her luck, she wouldn't be surprised if he would outlive her. But Carma had a family! Could she really get her into danger? Her father would have refused this offer. Her father would have faced Harris. But her father wasn't here. And she wasn'… [view original content]
Jenna
As she looked at Carma's gentle face, she noticed how tired she really was. During the past five days, her sleep has been restless.… more In her dreams, she saw Ser Ilhan die, again and again. Sometimes it was Harris who killed him. Sometimes it was herself who fatally stabbed him. Yes, she knew that she never held the knife, that she never stabbed him. But she also knew that he would have been still alive if only she would have been able to control her curiosity. And this knowledge was worse than anything else. Harris was the monster who killed Ilhan. But she gave him the opportunity to do so. Inside of this castle, she wouldn't be able to sleep safe and sound again until Harris was gone. Considering her luck, she wouldn't be surprised if he would outlive her. But Carma had a family! Could she really get her into danger? Her father would have refused this offer. Her father would have faced Harris. But her father wasn't here. And she wasn'… [view original content]
Jenna
As she looked at Carma's gentle face, she noticed how tired she really was. During the past five days, her sleep has been restless.… more In her dreams, she saw Ser Ilhan die, again and again. Sometimes it was Harris who killed him. Sometimes it was herself who fatally stabbed him. Yes, she knew that she never held the knife, that she never stabbed him. But she also knew that he would have been still alive if only she would have been able to control her curiosity. And this knowledge was worse than anything else. Harris was the monster who killed Ilhan. But she gave him the opportunity to do so. Inside of this castle, she wouldn't be able to sleep safe and sound again until Harris was gone. Considering her luck, she wouldn't be surprised if he would outlive her. But Carma had a family! Could she really get her into danger? Her father would have refused this offer. Her father would have faced Harris. But her father wasn't here. And she wasn'… [view original content]
Jenna
As she looked at Carma's gentle face, she noticed how tired she really was. During the past five days, her sleep has been restless.… more In her dreams, she saw Ser Ilhan die, again and again. Sometimes it was Harris who killed him. Sometimes it was herself who fatally stabbed him. Yes, she knew that she never held the knife, that she never stabbed him. But she also knew that he would have been still alive if only she would have been able to control her curiosity. And this knowledge was worse than anything else. Harris was the monster who killed Ilhan. But she gave him the opportunity to do so. Inside of this castle, she wouldn't be able to sleep safe and sound again until Harris was gone. Considering her luck, she wouldn't be surprised if he would outlive her. But Carma had a family! Could she really get her into danger? Her father would have refused this offer. Her father would have faced Harris. But her father wasn't here. And she wasn'… [view original content]
Jenna
As she looked at Carma's gentle face, she noticed how tired she really was. During the past five days, her sleep has been restless.… more In her dreams, she saw Ser Ilhan die, again and again. Sometimes it was Harris who killed him. Sometimes it was herself who fatally stabbed him. Yes, she knew that she never held the knife, that she never stabbed him. But she also knew that he would have been still alive if only she would have been able to control her curiosity. And this knowledge was worse than anything else. Harris was the monster who killed Ilhan. But she gave him the opportunity to do so. Inside of this castle, she wouldn't be able to sleep safe and sound again until Harris was gone. Considering her luck, she wouldn't be surprised if he would outlive her. But Carma had a family! Could she really get her into danger? Her father would have refused this offer. Her father would have faced Harris. But her father wasn't here. And she wasn'… [view original content]
Jenna
As she looked at Carma's gentle face, she noticed how tired she really was. During the past five days, her sleep has been restless.… more In her dreams, she saw Ser Ilhan die, again and again. Sometimes it was Harris who killed him. Sometimes it was herself who fatally stabbed him. Yes, she knew that she never held the knife, that she never stabbed him. But she also knew that he would have been still alive if only she would have been able to control her curiosity. And this knowledge was worse than anything else. Harris was the monster who killed Ilhan. But she gave him the opportunity to do so. Inside of this castle, she wouldn't be able to sleep safe and sound again until Harris was gone. Considering her luck, she wouldn't be surprised if he would outlive her. But Carma had a family! Could she really get her into danger? Her father would have refused this offer. Her father would have faced Harris. But her father wasn't here. And she wasn'… [view original content]
Jenna
As she looked at Carma's gentle face, she noticed how tired she really was. During the past five days, her sleep has been restless.… more In her dreams, she saw Ser Ilhan die, again and again. Sometimes it was Harris who killed him. Sometimes it was herself who fatally stabbed him. Yes, she knew that she never held the knife, that she never stabbed him. But she also knew that he would have been still alive if only she would have been able to control her curiosity. And this knowledge was worse than anything else. Harris was the monster who killed Ilhan. But she gave him the opportunity to do so. Inside of this castle, she wouldn't be able to sleep safe and sound again until Harris was gone. Considering her luck, she wouldn't be surprised if he would outlive her. But Carma had a family! Could she really get her into danger? Her father would have refused this offer. Her father would have faced Harris. But her father wasn't here. And she wasn'… [view original content]
Jenna
As she looked at Carma's gentle face, she noticed how tired she really was. During the past five days, her sleep has been restless.… more In her dreams, she saw Ser Ilhan die, again and again. Sometimes it was Harris who killed him. Sometimes it was herself who fatally stabbed him. Yes, she knew that she never held the knife, that she never stabbed him. But she also knew that he would have been still alive if only she would have been able to control her curiosity. And this knowledge was worse than anything else. Harris was the monster who killed Ilhan. But she gave him the opportunity to do so. Inside of this castle, she wouldn't be able to sleep safe and sound again until Harris was gone. Considering her luck, she wouldn't be surprised if he would outlive her. But Carma had a family! Could she really get her into danger? Her father would have refused this offer. Her father would have faced Harris. But her father wasn't here. And she wasn'… [view original content]
Jenna
As she looked at Carma's gentle face, she noticed how tired she really was. During the past five days, her sleep has been restless.… more In her dreams, she saw Ser Ilhan die, again and again. Sometimes it was Harris who killed him. Sometimes it was herself who fatally stabbed him. Yes, she knew that she never held the knife, that she never stabbed him. But she also knew that he would have been still alive if only she would have been able to control her curiosity. And this knowledge was worse than anything else. Harris was the monster who killed Ilhan. But she gave him the opportunity to do so. Inside of this castle, she wouldn't be able to sleep safe and sound again until Harris was gone. Considering her luck, she wouldn't be surprised if he would outlive her. But Carma had a family! Could she really get her into danger? Her father would have refused this offer. Her father would have faced Harris. But her father wasn't here. And she wasn'… [view original content]
The new part is almost halfway written. I don't have much time today, so I don't think I'll manage to finish it today. Expect it tomorrow.
Today I want to give a shout-out to another great The Walking Dead fanfiction: A New Life by @Partition
A New Life is set in the world of The Walking Dead and has started a few weeks ago. There already is quite an amount of content, but it is also very well-written, so catching up should be easy. Partition is a very talented writer and even though the story already has some loyal readers, it always deserves more, as well as more voters and more people who submit great characters. Seriously it's awesome and you should check it out by clicking on this link!
The Voting is closed!
Jenna will go back to the castle herself
Kersea will work with Wolfius
The new part is almost halfway written… more. I don't have much time today, so I don't think I'll manage to finish it today. Expect it tomorrow.
Today I want to give a shout-out to another great The Walking Dead fanfiction: A New Life by @Partition
A New Life is set in the world of The Walking Dead and has started a few weeks ago. There already is quite an amount of content, but it is also very well-written, so catching up should be easy. Partition is a very talented writer and even though the story already has some loyal readers, it always deserves more, as well as more voters and more people who submit great characters. Seriously it's awesome and you should check it out by clicking on this link!
Basically what InGen said. Alternatively you can also directly read it here in the thread, albeit that means going back through 24 pages. Here is also the place to vote on how the story should continue. If you want to join but don't feel like reading through roughly 170 pages of story, I also prepared a little summary which I plan to put in the main post after Act 1 of the story is finished but I already send it out on demand.
Basically what InGen said. Alternatively you can also directly read it here in the thread, albeit that means going back through 24 pages. He… morere is also the place to vote on how the story should continue. If you want to join but don't feel like reading through roughly 170 pages of story, I also prepared a little summary which I plan to put in the main post after Act 1 of the story is finished but I already send it out on demand.
Lyria looked on as Wolfius went down the alleyway. His lean silhouette almost seemed to merge with the shadows of the buildings around him as he walked down the city. From the moment she accepted his offer, she knew that what she was doing was shady business. But the more than generous offer made up for this. But a dagger with the sigil of House Hoare was something different! Lyria felt used, betrayed and more than that, she felt guilty. An Ironborn weapon! Does that mean that Wolfius was working for Harren Hoare? He didn't look like an Ironborn, yet looks could be deceiving. His pale skin hinted at a northern heritage, yet his blonde hair was more common in the Riverlands. Regardless, she had to report him to the city guard. She wouldn't cover one of Harren Hoare's men. As she looked back to where he was walking, she could hardly make him out amid the shadows.
With quick and determined steps, Lyria started to walk down the path that lead to Raylansfairs guardhouse. The city guard wasn't exactly large in numbers, being about fifty men and women strong. So far, she had barely any encounter with them, but she knew that the commander was known as a strict and honourable man, respectable traits in Lyria's opinion. The guardhouse was quite tall, a three-story building completely out of stone, surrounded by a short wall. Two young men stood guard in front of a simple, open iron gate, armed with spears, clad in simple boiled leather armours with the crowned book of Raylansfair imprinted on it. One of the guards, a young man, maybe in his late twenties, with tanned skin, chestnut brown hair and a small stubble beard gave her a friendly nod.
“Good evening! Can I help you?”, he asked, while looking at her with dark green eyes. Lyria gave him a relieved nod. She had met him briefly a few years ago. Arthur Nathamer was one of Raylansfairs most well-liked guards, a friendly and forgiving man, sometimes even too forgiving, but always honourable. Coincidentally, he was also the commander's only son. Exactly the man she needed when she was trying to get an appointment with the commander.
“Good evening, my name is Lyria Mettel”, she said, trying her best to give him a friendly smile. Lyria was no woman who smiled often, not after the death of her husband and according to some people, her smile looked stilted. Rosalie on the other hand always encouraged her to smile more, telling her that she had a pretty smile. Lyria knew her daughter was lying, at least objectively speaking, but she really couldn't hold it against her. “I would like to have an appointment with the commander. It is important”, she explained.
Arthur looked at the other guard and shook his head. “Normally you would need an appointment”, he explained and Lyria noticed her face dropping. Arthur seemed to notice that too and sighed. “But I can see it is important. You look shaken, good woman. Come in and explain what happened”, he said, giving her a small handwave to allow her entrance to the building.
The inside of the building was surprisingly tidy and comfortable. Long wooden benches were located in the main room, being able to give seats to at least fifty people. A warm fire was burning in a fireplace and the air smelled of ale and warm soup. About a dozen men were sitting on the benches, eating something out of wooden bowls, nobody was paying any attention to Lyria. Arthur entered the main room after her, closing the door behind them and pointing at one of the doors. “My father is in his office. He will have time for your concerns now”, he explained. Lyria gave him a thankful nod. Most of Raylansfairs city guard was undoubtedly well-intentioned, but Arthur stood out even among them. His father believed in justice and the law. Arthur believed in mercy and that was something Lyria found much more important in these days. The world would be a better place with more people like Arthur around.
As Lyria walked towards the stairs leading up to the room the commander had for himself, she noticed that she calmed down considerably. She had barely noticed it so far, but the whole deal with Wolfius had gotten on her nerves. At first she had thought that he was barely more than a vagabound. Or at least she had hopes so. But now he was apparently an agent of Harren Hoare. And there was something else... In the moment it happened she hadn't thought about it, but now it was clear, burning in her mind. Wolfius had appeared at her forge only minutes after she finished the dagger. How exactly had he known? Had he spied on her? She knew, she should be worried. But in this moment, she wasn't afraid in the slightest. She wasn't easily worried. And she had the city guard to help her. Lyria wasn't naive, she knew the city guard wasn't the best in the Reach. She knew that Wolfius was dangerous. But she was not afraid. She knocked on the door and waited for an answer.
“Come in”, a deep and stern voice called her out. As she entered, she noticed that the commander's office was quite small, much to her pleasant surprise. She had always despised people of power who used their position for personal gain. Apparently Hackor Nathamer was different. Different from Lord Raylan, different from the king. His room was sparsely decorated, his own chair looking far less comfortable than the one in front of his desk, standing there for his guests. The commander himself was looking like an older version of his son. His chestnut brown hair was starting to turn grey, his hairline was slightly receding, yet his eyes still had the emerald green his family was known for. He was taller than most men and quite thin. Judging from his office alone, the only luxury he allowed himself was the iron armour he was wearing, coloured in light green. Lyria recognized the armour and shivered slightly. Her husbands work was unmistakable. Even though she was good, she never reached his level of finesse, at least in her eyes. And this armour was a masterpiece.
“Can I help you?”, Nathamer asked, added by “Do you have an appointment?” Lyria shook her head. “Not an appointment, commander, but an important problem”, she answered. Nathamer narrowed his eyes and let out a sigh. “Let me guess... Arthur let you in, am I right good woman?”, he asked. Lyria did not answer immediately and he rolled with his eyes. “The boy is too soft. But you're here now and I won't throw you out”, he sighed, before pointing at the chair in front of him. “Take a seat, good woman. What is your name?”, he asked.
Lyria gave him a thankful smile and sat down. Even though she preferred standing, she appreciated the gesture. “My name is Lyria Mettel”, she explained and noticed Nathamer's eyes widening for a short moment. “You knew my husband. After his death, I continued his work. Last week, a man by the name of Wolfius Woodbark gave me an assignment”, she explained, noticing that Nathamer opened his mouth as she mentioned Wolfius. “Woodbark...”, he mumbled. “A short man, lean, rugged, with pale skin and a scarred face?”
Lyria gave him a surprised nod. “We already know this man. Last week he harassed the girl working in the inn. Poor Ilish came to us after her shift ended, reporting him, so we could keep an eye on him. Please explain, what assignment has he given to you?”, Nathamer said, sternly looking at her. Lyria took a deep breath. She knew she had done nothing wrong, at least not legally. Nathamer wasn't someone who condemned moral crimes, at least she hoped so.
“He gave me a substantial amount of gold to forge him a dagger with a special sigil embedded in its hilt”, she explained. “I had no idea about the nature of this sigil until my daughter pointed it out for me. The sigil was the sigil of House Hoare”, she explained and Nathamer took a deep breath. “Fucking Hoare...”, he mumbled and Lyria remembered. Sometimes it was hard to remind herself, but she wasn't the only person who had lost someone during the last raid.
“Thank you”, he said softly and Lyria could tell that he meant it. When it came to Ironborn, Nathamer was a man who knew how to hold a grudge. He had lost as much as Lyria, maybe even more. She knew, if Hoare would be involved in this, Nathamer would find out. Right now, the commander gave her a sad smile. “Your husband was a good man. This armour saved my life several times. For you and for him, I will find out who this Wolfius is. If he is involved in any dealings with the Ironborn, he will hang”, he said, before standing up. “And I shall do so right now”
Lyria gave him a surprised look and Nathamer started to grin. “I hate sitting here all day with nothing but paperwork to do. Ilish described him pretty well, so I'm sure I should be able to recognize him. The same goes for some of my guards”, he explained. “I'm actually looking forward for this. A good old-fashioned hunt, like in my days as a captain. Seven Hells, I've missed this feeling!”
Nathamer accompanied her downstairs and only a few moments later, he had half a dozen men ready to accompany him. As Lyria looked at these men, she felt some sort of strange reassurance. She suspected that Wolfius was more cunning than he appeared to be. She knew she wouldn't sleep well until he was dealt with. But she was pretty certain that a man like Hackor Nathamer would be able to get him, sooner or later. Hopefully sooner...
The guardsmen accompanied her for a short while, until her forge was visible, until she was safe. Safe? She wasn't in real danger, was she? Rosalie wasn't in danger, right? Nathamer gave her a friendly nod, before he and his men left to walk down the alleyway Wolfius had been going down a mere hour ago. She looked after them until they weren't visible anymore.
She wanted it to be over, wanted to be safe again. But deep down she knew, trouble had just begun for her.
No choices for this part
Garthon
It was dark and it rained. Of course, it had to rain. There was no way that the Drowned God couldn't leave Garthon Breaker dry just for a few days before he would inadvertently die. Damn Torvin and his damned sense of responsibility and honour. Of course, honour was a pretty thing to have, but nothing worth dying for. Garthon spent a lifetime in the shadows of his brother learning exactly that. He wasn't as strong as Torvin, he wasn't as skilled as Torvin. All he had was a charming smile and a talent for speaking with people. In the Reach, he would have been a great and beloved man, but in the Kingdom of the Isles and Rivers, his talents were worth nothing. Torvin was able to fight for the family, he demanded respect and sometimes he even got it. Garthon on the other hand was looked down upon. Eloquence was worth less than honour in Harrenhal. Some of Hoare's trusted captains weren't even able to write their own name. But that was okay, as long as they were able to split a skull with one strike. Garthon freely admitted that he had spent too much time in the Riverlands. He didn't look down on the Riverlords, at least not for the reasons Hoare and his captains looked down on them. Hoare saw them as effeminate weaklings, with wrong gods and wrong customs. But there was nothing wrong with the Seven. And the 'customs' of the Iron Islands included enjoying a past-time activity in which two combatants tried to chop off each others fingers, a way of life that dictated having to fight for everything and a ritual that involved the drowning of infants. Sure, the Drowned God was alright. But the Seven weren't bad either. And all this stuff with the Iron Price? Garthon actually enjoyed the comfort of not having to fight for everything he wants to buy. It wasn't too bad in the Riverlands. And now he was going to die because his brother just can't look away. Lord Tully's problems weren't Torvin's problems. And still, his brother had to plan the assassination of the most dangerous man Garthon ever met. And just as Torvin couldn't ignore the Riverland's problems, Garthon couldn't ignore his brothers problems. And here he was, riding through the rain, with a silent companion, trying his best not to think about his approaching death.
“So.. George...”, Garthon tried to initiate a conversation. During the last days, he had almost given up on talking to George. It was not that the boy was rude or brooding. In fact, George was quite friendly, annoyingly friendly and also prone to make light-hearted jokes. Garthon hated light-hearted jokes. But his companion was also shy and a terrible liar. Garthon had noticed quite early during their journey, that George would have preferred travelling with Torvin. Whatever Tully told the boy about Torvin, George believed it and almost idolized him. Knowing the real Torvin, fearsome raider, honourable but definitely not a holy man, brave but definitely not a true knight, it was quite annoying for Garthon to see George worshipping his brother. Anyway, during this weather, he could use at least some sort of conversation over the terrible silence of his thoughts.
His companion looked up, giving him a friendly smile. “Is anything the matter?”, George asked. Garthon suppressed a sigh. The thought of Torvin trying to befriend Harlan Hoare cheered him up a little bit. Surely his brother had similar problems. And George was pleasant company compared to Harlan. Yes, Garthon wouldn't want to swap with Torvin.
“I thought we should talk a little bit. We're travelling together for five days now. We're planning on killing a king together. I guess we should get to know each other better”, he started. A good start into the conversation, at least from his point of view. George shrugged. “I guess so. Maybe you can tell me something about yourself?”, he asked. Garthon rolled with his eyes. Of course, now he was the one who had to do the talking. Well, anything is better than the silence...
“Alright then. Born in Pyke, twenty-four years ago. Four years younger than Torvin. I'm his first mate aboard our ship, the Behemoth”, Garthon explained, hopin that the focus of the conversation would finally shift to George. He would actually like to know a bit more about him, not because he was particularly interested in other people or their problems, but because he wasn't quite sure what to make of George. Sure, Tully vowed for him, but Tully was a fish. Garthon was a fisher and looked at things from a different perspective.
George smiled. “Sounds great, but I'm afraid my life isn't that interesting”, he started to explain, while Garthon smiled at him. Fucking finally! “I was born twenty years ago. My mother was raped by one of the Ironborn”, George said and for a short moment, Garthon felt a sting of guilt. Why? He had never raped anyone. Of course, he had taken a Salt Wife while raiding the Stony Shore a few years ago. But he actually set her free after her continuous kicks and screams started to get on his nerves. Garthon preferred to be a bit more charming in his methods, a bit more seductive than just clubbing the nearest female on the head and fucking her until she stopped screaming. But the Old Way allowed the Ironborn to basically to what they want with the women they captured during a raid. Some treated their numerous Salt Wives pretty decent. Others hadn't that much decency in them. Garthon had once seen one of Harmund Hoares Salt Wives and had barely dared to fall asleep that night. Ever since the Ironborn took the Riverlands from some ancient Storm King, stories like George's got more common.
“It would be George Rivers, but my father never acknowledged me. In fact I don't even know who he is. He could be a Hoare for what I know”, George continued his explanation. Garthon looked him straight in the eyes. Blue eyes, without an ounce of malice in them. Blonde hair as well. “Trust me boy, your father was not a Hoare. You would have realized it by now”, he said. “You don't have the eyes for it, or the hair. Every Hoare is dark of hair and dark of heart. Their eyes give them away. You have too much compassion in them. You're no killer”
George gave him a sudden sharp glare. “I am one of Lord Tully's most trusted soldiers. I am a killer when I have to”, he insisted and Garthon had to suppress a chuckle. He didn't want to provoke the kid, but it was refreshing to see him coming out of his shell for once. “You're a soldier, not a killer. It is a difference. You fight for a cause, to serve and protect. As soon as you loose this cause, you become a killer”, he explained.
“What about you, Garthon? Are you a killer?”, George asked. His voice was a bit softer now, apparently he calmed down quickly. Garthon did not answer at first. He looked past George, lost in thoughts for a moment. There was the husband of his first Salt Wife. Garthon had used a mace. There was the Lannister soldier in Faircastle. Garthon had used a sword. There was the man in Pyke who had beaten his Rock Wife to death with a club after Garthon tried to seduce her. She had repelled his flirting, hadn't given in to him. Yet her husband had still beaten her to death, as the tradition demanded. Yes, there was the man who had beaten his Rock Wife to death with a club. For him, Garthon had used his bare hands “Interesting question”, he finally answered with a quiet voice. The following silence wasn't that bad anymore.
Maidenpool wasn't that far away anymore. George knew the smuggler they were about to contact and had warned Garthon to be wary around the man. The warning was unnecessary. Garthon was always wary around strangers, especially smugglers. From his experience, these people would gladly turn on their customers the moment they had a chance to do it. He once met a smuggler in Orkmont, a scrawny man who sold him some fake pearls he was able to sell to a noblewoman from Blacktyde. Of course, the smuggler told the noblewoman to make even more profit. Luckily, the noblewoman was Ironborn and preferred to castrate the smuggler for his treachery. Garthon got away after blaming one of the people he had gambling debts with. But yes, he was quite wary around smugglers ever since.
In the distance, he noticed lights and for a short moment he thought they would have reached Maidenpool. Of course, his hopes were crushed pretty soon as he realized that the lights were far too few for an actual city. Maybe a village? Or at the very least a tavern. A tavern would be brilliant now! A warm, comfortable bed, a hot meal, maybe a warm bath and if he got extremely lucky a wench for him.
“Hey George!”, he called his companion out. The young man looked up and Garthon pointed at the lights. “A tavern!”, he explained. George gave him a curious stare and Garthon sighed. Had he explain everything to the boy? “Warm bed. Warm meal. Warm Woman. Very good”, he said, speaking slowly and slightly unnerved. George gave him a nod. “I know what a tavern is, Garthon”, he answered. “I just don't know why you're telling me that. If we ride the whole night we might be able to reach Maidenpool in the early morning”
Garthon sighed. “Yes, we might reach Maidenpool in the early morning. Completely exhausted. Soaked to the bone. Hungry”, he hissed. George looked at him, seemingly considering what he just said, but as he answered, he still seemed to be unsure. “I would really like of we just get to Maidenpool as quick as possible”, he insisted. Damn it, where did Tully even get someone like him? “But I'll leave it up to you”, the boy added. Well, that was something. Sure, the boy was right. They could reach Maidenpool in the morning. But that would only bring them closer to their deaths. Garthon looked at the tavern and his stomach growled. He did not want to die hungry.
[Stay a night at the tavern][Ride the whole night to Maidenpool]
I nearly fell out of my chair when I read Lyria's perspective. It was great seeing Arthur and Hackor being added. I liked how you connected Hackor to Lyria in there by using the armor. I am excited to see him systematically search through the town. If he finds the assassins, I am eager to see who would come on the top of the fight.
[Stay a night at the tavern] Garthon might be able to learn a little about what is happening in Madienpool before the go in blind.
Lyria
Lyria looked on as Wolfius went down the alleyway. His lean silhouette almost seemed to merge with the shadows of the buildings aro… moreund him as he walked down the city. From the moment she accepted his offer, she knew that what she was doing was shady business. But the more than generous offer made up for this. But a dagger with the sigil of House Hoare was something different! Lyria felt used, betrayed and more than that, she felt guilty. An Ironborn weapon! Does that mean that Wolfius was working for Harren Hoare? He didn't look like an Ironborn, yet looks could be deceiving. His pale skin hinted at a northern heritage, yet his blonde hair was more common in the Riverlands. Regardless, she had to report him to the city guard. She wouldn't cover one of Harren Hoare's men. As she looked back to where he was walking, she could hardly make him out amid the shadows.
With quick and determined steps, Lyria started to walk down the path t… [view original content]
Lyria
Lyria looked on as Wolfius went down the alleyway. His lean silhouette almost seemed to merge with the shadows of the buildings aro… moreund him as he walked down the city. From the moment she accepted his offer, she knew that what she was doing was shady business. But the more than generous offer made up for this. But a dagger with the sigil of House Hoare was something different! Lyria felt used, betrayed and more than that, she felt guilty. An Ironborn weapon! Does that mean that Wolfius was working for Harren Hoare? He didn't look like an Ironborn, yet looks could be deceiving. His pale skin hinted at a northern heritage, yet his blonde hair was more common in the Riverlands. Regardless, she had to report him to the city guard. She wouldn't cover one of Harren Hoare's men. As she looked back to where he was walking, she could hardly make him out amid the shadows.
With quick and determined steps, Lyria started to walk down the path t… [view original content]
Lyria
Lyria looked on as Wolfius went down the alleyway. His lean silhouette almost seemed to merge with the shadows of the buildings aro… moreund him as he walked down the city. From the moment she accepted his offer, she knew that what she was doing was shady business. But the more than generous offer made up for this. But a dagger with the sigil of House Hoare was something different! Lyria felt used, betrayed and more than that, she felt guilty. An Ironborn weapon! Does that mean that Wolfius was working for Harren Hoare? He didn't look like an Ironborn, yet looks could be deceiving. His pale skin hinted at a northern heritage, yet his blonde hair was more common in the Riverlands. Regardless, she had to report him to the city guard. She wouldn't cover one of Harren Hoare's men. As she looked back to where he was walking, she could hardly make him out amid the shadows.
With quick and determined steps, Lyria started to walk down the path t… [view original content]
Lyria
Lyria looked on as Wolfius went down the alleyway. His lean silhouette almost seemed to merge with the shadows of the buildings aro… moreund him as he walked down the city. From the moment she accepted his offer, she knew that what she was doing was shady business. But the more than generous offer made up for this. But a dagger with the sigil of House Hoare was something different! Lyria felt used, betrayed and more than that, she felt guilty. An Ironborn weapon! Does that mean that Wolfius was working for Harren Hoare? He didn't look like an Ironborn, yet looks could be deceiving. His pale skin hinted at a northern heritage, yet his blonde hair was more common in the Riverlands. Regardless, she had to report him to the city guard. She wouldn't cover one of Harren Hoare's men. As she looked back to where he was walking, she could hardly make him out amid the shadows.
With quick and determined steps, Lyria started to walk down the path t… [view original content]
Lyria
Lyria looked on as Wolfius went down the alleyway. His lean silhouette almost seemed to merge with the shadows of the buildings aro… moreund him as he walked down the city. From the moment she accepted his offer, she knew that what she was doing was shady business. But the more than generous offer made up for this. But a dagger with the sigil of House Hoare was something different! Lyria felt used, betrayed and more than that, she felt guilty. An Ironborn weapon! Does that mean that Wolfius was working for Harren Hoare? He didn't look like an Ironborn, yet looks could be deceiving. His pale skin hinted at a northern heritage, yet his blonde hair was more common in the Riverlands. Regardless, she had to report him to the city guard. She wouldn't cover one of Harren Hoare's men. As she looked back to where he was walking, she could hardly make him out amid the shadows.
With quick and determined steps, Lyria started to walk down the path t… [view original content]
Lyria
Lyria looked on as Wolfius went down the alleyway. His lean silhouette almost seemed to merge with the shadows of the buildings aro… moreund him as he walked down the city. From the moment she accepted his offer, she knew that what she was doing was shady business. But the more than generous offer made up for this. But a dagger with the sigil of House Hoare was something different! Lyria felt used, betrayed and more than that, she felt guilty. An Ironborn weapon! Does that mean that Wolfius was working for Harren Hoare? He didn't look like an Ironborn, yet looks could be deceiving. His pale skin hinted at a northern heritage, yet his blonde hair was more common in the Riverlands. Regardless, she had to report him to the city guard. She wouldn't cover one of Harren Hoare's men. As she looked back to where he was walking, she could hardly make him out amid the shadows.
With quick and determined steps, Lyria started to walk down the path t… [view original content]
Lyria
Lyria looked on as Wolfius went down the alleyway. His lean silhouette almost seemed to merge with the shadows of the buildings aro… moreund him as he walked down the city. From the moment she accepted his offer, she knew that what she was doing was shady business. But the more than generous offer made up for this. But a dagger with the sigil of House Hoare was something different! Lyria felt used, betrayed and more than that, she felt guilty. An Ironborn weapon! Does that mean that Wolfius was working for Harren Hoare? He didn't look like an Ironborn, yet looks could be deceiving. His pale skin hinted at a northern heritage, yet his blonde hair was more common in the Riverlands. Regardless, she had to report him to the city guard. She wouldn't cover one of Harren Hoare's men. As she looked back to where he was walking, she could hardly make him out amid the shadows.
With quick and determined steps, Lyria started to walk down the path t… [view original content]
Lyria
Lyria looked on as Wolfius went down the alleyway. His lean silhouette almost seemed to merge with the shadows of the buildings aro… moreund him as he walked down the city. From the moment she accepted his offer, she knew that what she was doing was shady business. But the more than generous offer made up for this. But a dagger with the sigil of House Hoare was something different! Lyria felt used, betrayed and more than that, she felt guilty. An Ironborn weapon! Does that mean that Wolfius was working for Harren Hoare? He didn't look like an Ironborn, yet looks could be deceiving. His pale skin hinted at a northern heritage, yet his blonde hair was more common in the Riverlands. Regardless, she had to report him to the city guard. She wouldn't cover one of Harren Hoare's men. As she looked back to where he was walking, she could hardly make him out amid the shadows.
With quick and determined steps, Lyria started to walk down the path t… [view original content]
Lyria
Lyria looked on as Wolfius went down the alleyway. His lean silhouette almost seemed to merge with the shadows of the buildings aro… moreund him as he walked down the city. From the moment she accepted his offer, she knew that what she was doing was shady business. But the more than generous offer made up for this. But a dagger with the sigil of House Hoare was something different! Lyria felt used, betrayed and more than that, she felt guilty. An Ironborn weapon! Does that mean that Wolfius was working for Harren Hoare? He didn't look like an Ironborn, yet looks could be deceiving. His pale skin hinted at a northern heritage, yet his blonde hair was more common in the Riverlands. Regardless, she had to report him to the city guard. She wouldn't cover one of Harren Hoare's men. As she looked back to where he was walking, she could hardly make him out amid the shadows.
With quick and determined steps, Lyria started to walk down the path t… [view original content]
Lyria
Lyria looked on as Wolfius went down the alleyway. His lean silhouette almost seemed to merge with the shadows of the buildings aro… moreund him as he walked down the city. From the moment she accepted his offer, she knew that what she was doing was shady business. But the more than generous offer made up for this. But a dagger with the sigil of House Hoare was something different! Lyria felt used, betrayed and more than that, she felt guilty. An Ironborn weapon! Does that mean that Wolfius was working for Harren Hoare? He didn't look like an Ironborn, yet looks could be deceiving. His pale skin hinted at a northern heritage, yet his blonde hair was more common in the Riverlands. Regardless, she had to report him to the city guard. She wouldn't cover one of Harren Hoare's men. As she looked back to where he was walking, she could hardly make him out amid the shadows.
With quick and determined steps, Lyria started to walk down the path t… [view original content]
Lyria
Lyria looked on as Wolfius went down the alleyway. His lean silhouette almost seemed to merge with the shadows of the buildings aro… moreund him as he walked down the city. From the moment she accepted his offer, she knew that what she was doing was shady business. But the more than generous offer made up for this. But a dagger with the sigil of House Hoare was something different! Lyria felt used, betrayed and more than that, she felt guilty. An Ironborn weapon! Does that mean that Wolfius was working for Harren Hoare? He didn't look like an Ironborn, yet looks could be deceiving. His pale skin hinted at a northern heritage, yet his blonde hair was more common in the Riverlands. Regardless, she had to report him to the city guard. She wouldn't cover one of Harren Hoare's men. As she looked back to where he was walking, she could hardly make him out amid the shadows.
With quick and determined steps, Lyria started to walk down the path t… [view original content]
Lyria
Lyria looked on as Wolfius went down the alleyway. His lean silhouette almost seemed to merge with the shadows of the buildings aro… moreund him as he walked down the city. From the moment she accepted his offer, she knew that what she was doing was shady business. But the more than generous offer made up for this. But a dagger with the sigil of House Hoare was something different! Lyria felt used, betrayed and more than that, she felt guilty. An Ironborn weapon! Does that mean that Wolfius was working for Harren Hoare? He didn't look like an Ironborn, yet looks could be deceiving. His pale skin hinted at a northern heritage, yet his blonde hair was more common in the Riverlands. Regardless, she had to report him to the city guard. She wouldn't cover one of Harren Hoare's men. As she looked back to where he was walking, she could hardly make him out amid the shadows.
With quick and determined steps, Lyria started to walk down the path t… [view original content]
Comments
[Let Carma go]
[Agree to work with Wolfius]
[Let Carma go] Jenna gots to sleep
[Agree to work with Wolfius] He is going to follow us anyway.
[Go yourself]
[Agree to work with Wolfius] Hopefully she can stop him killing Jenna
( Agree to work with wolfius )
( go yourself )
[Let Carma go]
[Agree to work with Wolfius]
[Let Carma go]
[Agree to work with Wolfius]
[Go yourself]
[Agree to work with Wolfius]
[Go Yourself] [Agree to work with Wolfius]
[Go yourself]
[Agree to work with Wolfius]
[Go yourself]
[Agree to work with Wolfius]
[Let Carma go] and [Agree to work with Wolfius]
[Go yourself]
[Decline to work with Wolfius]
So Lucas and Leonard are chasing the wrong guy. Dammit.
[Go yourself]
[Agree to work with Wolfius]
{Go yourself} - If she wants to die over a piece of metal let her
{work with wolfius} Mission needs to work and if stupid Jenna pays the price oh well, at least wont let anything bad happen
[Go yourself]
[Agree to work with Wolfius]
[Go yourself]
[Agree to work with Wolfius]
[Go yourself]
[Decline to work with Wolfius] Nope,nope,nope.
The Voting is closed!
Jenna will go back to the castle herself
Kersea will work with Wolfius
The new part is almost halfway written. I don't have much time today, so I don't think I'll manage to finish it today. Expect it tomorrow.
Today I want to give a shout-out to another great The Walking Dead fanfiction: A New Life by @Partition
A New Life is set in the world of The Walking Dead and has started a few weeks ago. There already is quite an amount of content, but it is also very well-written, so catching up should be easy. Partition is a very talented writer and even though the story already has some loyal readers, it always deserves more, as well as more voters and more people who submit great characters. Seriously it's awesome and you should check it out by clicking on this link!
soooo where can i read the story?
Thanks Liquid!
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1v6k8HiFTEGK26_utnKmp_HRAigZ4uKZcUTcjt0a_wls/edit?usp=sharing
Lol it's right under the map.
Basically what InGen said. Alternatively you can also directly read it here in the thread, albeit that means going back through 24 pages. Here is also the place to vote on how the story should continue. If you want to join but don't feel like reading through roughly 170 pages of story, I also prepared a little summary which I plan to put in the main post after Act 1 of the story is finished but I already send it out on demand.
haha thx
Ok i will probably read the summary then XD
Lyria
Lyria looked on as Wolfius went down the alleyway. His lean silhouette almost seemed to merge with the shadows of the buildings around him as he walked down the city. From the moment she accepted his offer, she knew that what she was doing was shady business. But the more than generous offer made up for this. But a dagger with the sigil of House Hoare was something different! Lyria felt used, betrayed and more than that, she felt guilty. An Ironborn weapon! Does that mean that Wolfius was working for Harren Hoare? He didn't look like an Ironborn, yet looks could be deceiving. His pale skin hinted at a northern heritage, yet his blonde hair was more common in the Riverlands. Regardless, she had to report him to the city guard. She wouldn't cover one of Harren Hoare's men. As she looked back to where he was walking, she could hardly make him out amid the shadows.
With quick and determined steps, Lyria started to walk down the path that lead to Raylansfairs guardhouse. The city guard wasn't exactly large in numbers, being about fifty men and women strong. So far, she had barely any encounter with them, but she knew that the commander was known as a strict and honourable man, respectable traits in Lyria's opinion. The guardhouse was quite tall, a three-story building completely out of stone, surrounded by a short wall. Two young men stood guard in front of a simple, open iron gate, armed with spears, clad in simple boiled leather armours with the crowned book of Raylansfair imprinted on it. One of the guards, a young man, maybe in his late twenties, with tanned skin, chestnut brown hair and a small stubble beard gave her a friendly nod.
“Good evening! Can I help you?”, he asked, while looking at her with dark green eyes. Lyria gave him a relieved nod. She had met him briefly a few years ago. Arthur Nathamer was one of Raylansfairs most well-liked guards, a friendly and forgiving man, sometimes even too forgiving, but always honourable. Coincidentally, he was also the commander's only son. Exactly the man she needed when she was trying to get an appointment with the commander.
“Good evening, my name is Lyria Mettel”, she said, trying her best to give him a friendly smile. Lyria was no woman who smiled often, not after the death of her husband and according to some people, her smile looked stilted. Rosalie on the other hand always encouraged her to smile more, telling her that she had a pretty smile. Lyria knew her daughter was lying, at least objectively speaking, but she really couldn't hold it against her. “I would like to have an appointment with the commander. It is important”, she explained.
Arthur looked at the other guard and shook his head. “Normally you would need an appointment”, he explained and Lyria noticed her face dropping. Arthur seemed to notice that too and sighed. “But I can see it is important. You look shaken, good woman. Come in and explain what happened”, he said, giving her a small handwave to allow her entrance to the building.
The inside of the building was surprisingly tidy and comfortable. Long wooden benches were located in the main room, being able to give seats to at least fifty people. A warm fire was burning in a fireplace and the air smelled of ale and warm soup. About a dozen men were sitting on the benches, eating something out of wooden bowls, nobody was paying any attention to Lyria. Arthur entered the main room after her, closing the door behind them and pointing at one of the doors. “My father is in his office. He will have time for your concerns now”, he explained. Lyria gave him a thankful nod. Most of Raylansfairs city guard was undoubtedly well-intentioned, but Arthur stood out even among them. His father believed in justice and the law. Arthur believed in mercy and that was something Lyria found much more important in these days. The world would be a better place with more people like Arthur around.
As Lyria walked towards the stairs leading up to the room the commander had for himself, she noticed that she calmed down considerably. She had barely noticed it so far, but the whole deal with Wolfius had gotten on her nerves. At first she had thought that he was barely more than a vagabound. Or at least she had hopes so. But now he was apparently an agent of Harren Hoare. And there was something else... In the moment it happened she hadn't thought about it, but now it was clear, burning in her mind. Wolfius had appeared at her forge only minutes after she finished the dagger. How exactly had he known? Had he spied on her? She knew, she should be worried. But in this moment, she wasn't afraid in the slightest. She wasn't easily worried. And she had the city guard to help her. Lyria wasn't naive, she knew the city guard wasn't the best in the Reach. She knew that Wolfius was dangerous. But she was not afraid. She knocked on the door and waited for an answer.
“Come in”, a deep and stern voice called her out. As she entered, she noticed that the commander's office was quite small, much to her pleasant surprise. She had always despised people of power who used their position for personal gain. Apparently Hackor Nathamer was different. Different from Lord Raylan, different from the king. His room was sparsely decorated, his own chair looking far less comfortable than the one in front of his desk, standing there for his guests. The commander himself was looking like an older version of his son. His chestnut brown hair was starting to turn grey, his hairline was slightly receding, yet his eyes still had the emerald green his family was known for. He was taller than most men and quite thin. Judging from his office alone, the only luxury he allowed himself was the iron armour he was wearing, coloured in light green. Lyria recognized the armour and shivered slightly. Her husbands work was unmistakable. Even though she was good, she never reached his level of finesse, at least in her eyes. And this armour was a masterpiece.
“Can I help you?”, Nathamer asked, added by “Do you have an appointment?” Lyria shook her head. “Not an appointment, commander, but an important problem”, she answered. Nathamer narrowed his eyes and let out a sigh. “Let me guess... Arthur let you in, am I right good woman?”, he asked. Lyria did not answer immediately and he rolled with his eyes. “The boy is too soft. But you're here now and I won't throw you out”, he sighed, before pointing at the chair in front of him. “Take a seat, good woman. What is your name?”, he asked.
Lyria gave him a thankful smile and sat down. Even though she preferred standing, she appreciated the gesture. “My name is Lyria Mettel”, she explained and noticed Nathamer's eyes widening for a short moment. “You knew my husband. After his death, I continued his work. Last week, a man by the name of Wolfius Woodbark gave me an assignment”, she explained, noticing that Nathamer opened his mouth as she mentioned Wolfius. “Woodbark...”, he mumbled. “A short man, lean, rugged, with pale skin and a scarred face?”
Lyria gave him a surprised nod. “We already know this man. Last week he harassed the girl working in the inn. Poor Ilish came to us after her shift ended, reporting him, so we could keep an eye on him. Please explain, what assignment has he given to you?”, Nathamer said, sternly looking at her. Lyria took a deep breath. She knew she had done nothing wrong, at least not legally. Nathamer wasn't someone who condemned moral crimes, at least she hoped so.
“He gave me a substantial amount of gold to forge him a dagger with a special sigil embedded in its hilt”, she explained. “I had no idea about the nature of this sigil until my daughter pointed it out for me. The sigil was the sigil of House Hoare”, she explained and Nathamer took a deep breath. “Fucking Hoare...”, he mumbled and Lyria remembered. Sometimes it was hard to remind herself, but she wasn't the only person who had lost someone during the last raid.
“Thank you”, he said softly and Lyria could tell that he meant it. When it came to Ironborn, Nathamer was a man who knew how to hold a grudge. He had lost as much as Lyria, maybe even more. She knew, if Hoare would be involved in this, Nathamer would find out. Right now, the commander gave her a sad smile. “Your husband was a good man. This armour saved my life several times. For you and for him, I will find out who this Wolfius is. If he is involved in any dealings with the Ironborn, he will hang”, he said, before standing up. “And I shall do so right now”
Lyria gave him a surprised look and Nathamer started to grin. “I hate sitting here all day with nothing but paperwork to do. Ilish described him pretty well, so I'm sure I should be able to recognize him. The same goes for some of my guards”, he explained. “I'm actually looking forward for this. A good old-fashioned hunt, like in my days as a captain. Seven Hells, I've missed this feeling!”
Nathamer accompanied her downstairs and only a few moments later, he had half a dozen men ready to accompany him. As Lyria looked at these men, she felt some sort of strange reassurance. She suspected that Wolfius was more cunning than he appeared to be. She knew she wouldn't sleep well until he was dealt with. But she was pretty certain that a man like Hackor Nathamer would be able to get him, sooner or later. Hopefully sooner...
The guardsmen accompanied her for a short while, until her forge was visible, until she was safe. Safe? She wasn't in real danger, was she? Rosalie wasn't in danger, right? Nathamer gave her a friendly nod, before he and his men left to walk down the alleyway Wolfius had been going down a mere hour ago. She looked after them until they weren't visible anymore.
She wanted it to be over, wanted to be safe again. But deep down she knew, trouble had just begun for her.
No choices for this part
Garthon
It was dark and it rained. Of course, it had to rain. There was no way that the Drowned God couldn't leave Garthon Breaker dry just for a few days before he would inadvertently die. Damn Torvin and his damned sense of responsibility and honour. Of course, honour was a pretty thing to have, but nothing worth dying for. Garthon spent a lifetime in the shadows of his brother learning exactly that. He wasn't as strong as Torvin, he wasn't as skilled as Torvin. All he had was a charming smile and a talent for speaking with people. In the Reach, he would have been a great and beloved man, but in the Kingdom of the Isles and Rivers, his talents were worth nothing. Torvin was able to fight for the family, he demanded respect and sometimes he even got it. Garthon on the other hand was looked down upon. Eloquence was worth less than honour in Harrenhal. Some of Hoare's trusted captains weren't even able to write their own name. But that was okay, as long as they were able to split a skull with one strike. Garthon freely admitted that he had spent too much time in the Riverlands. He didn't look down on the Riverlords, at least not for the reasons Hoare and his captains looked down on them. Hoare saw them as effeminate weaklings, with wrong gods and wrong customs. But there was nothing wrong with the Seven. And the 'customs' of the Iron Islands included enjoying a past-time activity in which two combatants tried to chop off each others fingers, a way of life that dictated having to fight for everything and a ritual that involved the drowning of infants. Sure, the Drowned God was alright. But the Seven weren't bad either. And all this stuff with the Iron Price? Garthon actually enjoyed the comfort of not having to fight for everything he wants to buy. It wasn't too bad in the Riverlands. And now he was going to die because his brother just can't look away. Lord Tully's problems weren't Torvin's problems. And still, his brother had to plan the assassination of the most dangerous man Garthon ever met. And just as Torvin couldn't ignore the Riverland's problems, Garthon couldn't ignore his brothers problems. And here he was, riding through the rain, with a silent companion, trying his best not to think about his approaching death.
“So.. George...”, Garthon tried to initiate a conversation. During the last days, he had almost given up on talking to George. It was not that the boy was rude or brooding. In fact, George was quite friendly, annoyingly friendly and also prone to make light-hearted jokes. Garthon hated light-hearted jokes. But his companion was also shy and a terrible liar. Garthon had noticed quite early during their journey, that George would have preferred travelling with Torvin. Whatever Tully told the boy about Torvin, George believed it and almost idolized him. Knowing the real Torvin, fearsome raider, honourable but definitely not a holy man, brave but definitely not a true knight, it was quite annoying for Garthon to see George worshipping his brother. Anyway, during this weather, he could use at least some sort of conversation over the terrible silence of his thoughts.
His companion looked up, giving him a friendly smile. “Is anything the matter?”, George asked. Garthon suppressed a sigh. The thought of Torvin trying to befriend Harlan Hoare cheered him up a little bit. Surely his brother had similar problems. And George was pleasant company compared to Harlan. Yes, Garthon wouldn't want to swap with Torvin.
“I thought we should talk a little bit. We're travelling together for five days now. We're planning on killing a king together. I guess we should get to know each other better”, he started. A good start into the conversation, at least from his point of view. George shrugged. “I guess so. Maybe you can tell me something about yourself?”, he asked. Garthon rolled with his eyes. Of course, now he was the one who had to do the talking. Well, anything is better than the silence...
“Alright then. Born in Pyke, twenty-four years ago. Four years younger than Torvin. I'm his first mate aboard our ship, the Behemoth”, Garthon explained, hopin that the focus of the conversation would finally shift to George. He would actually like to know a bit more about him, not because he was particularly interested in other people or their problems, but because he wasn't quite sure what to make of George. Sure, Tully vowed for him, but Tully was a fish. Garthon was a fisher and looked at things from a different perspective.
George smiled. “Sounds great, but I'm afraid my life isn't that interesting”, he started to explain, while Garthon smiled at him. Fucking finally! “I was born twenty years ago. My mother was raped by one of the Ironborn”, George said and for a short moment, Garthon felt a sting of guilt. Why? He had never raped anyone. Of course, he had taken a Salt Wife while raiding the Stony Shore a few years ago. But he actually set her free after her continuous kicks and screams started to get on his nerves. Garthon preferred to be a bit more charming in his methods, a bit more seductive than just clubbing the nearest female on the head and fucking her until she stopped screaming. But the Old Way allowed the Ironborn to basically to what they want with the women they captured during a raid. Some treated their numerous Salt Wives pretty decent. Others hadn't that much decency in them. Garthon had once seen one of Harmund Hoares Salt Wives and had barely dared to fall asleep that night. Ever since the Ironborn took the Riverlands from some ancient Storm King, stories like George's got more common.
“It would be George Rivers, but my father never acknowledged me. In fact I don't even know who he is. He could be a Hoare for what I know”, George continued his explanation. Garthon looked him straight in the eyes. Blue eyes, without an ounce of malice in them. Blonde hair as well. “Trust me boy, your father was not a Hoare. You would have realized it by now”, he said. “You don't have the eyes for it, or the hair. Every Hoare is dark of hair and dark of heart. Their eyes give them away. You have too much compassion in them. You're no killer”
George gave him a sudden sharp glare. “I am one of Lord Tully's most trusted soldiers. I am a killer when I have to”, he insisted and Garthon had to suppress a chuckle. He didn't want to provoke the kid, but it was refreshing to see him coming out of his shell for once. “You're a soldier, not a killer. It is a difference. You fight for a cause, to serve and protect. As soon as you loose this cause, you become a killer”, he explained.
“What about you, Garthon? Are you a killer?”, George asked. His voice was a bit softer now, apparently he calmed down quickly. Garthon did not answer at first. He looked past George, lost in thoughts for a moment. There was the husband of his first Salt Wife. Garthon had used a mace. There was the Lannister soldier in Faircastle. Garthon had used a sword. There was the man in Pyke who had beaten his Rock Wife to death with a club after Garthon tried to seduce her. She had repelled his flirting, hadn't given in to him. Yet her husband had still beaten her to death, as the tradition demanded. Yes, there was the man who had beaten his Rock Wife to death with a club. For him, Garthon had used his bare hands “Interesting question”, he finally answered with a quiet voice. The following silence wasn't that bad anymore.
Maidenpool wasn't that far away anymore. George knew the smuggler they were about to contact and had warned Garthon to be wary around the man. The warning was unnecessary. Garthon was always wary around strangers, especially smugglers. From his experience, these people would gladly turn on their customers the moment they had a chance to do it. He once met a smuggler in Orkmont, a scrawny man who sold him some fake pearls he was able to sell to a noblewoman from Blacktyde. Of course, the smuggler told the noblewoman to make even more profit. Luckily, the noblewoman was Ironborn and preferred to castrate the smuggler for his treachery. Garthon got away after blaming one of the people he had gambling debts with. But yes, he was quite wary around smugglers ever since.
In the distance, he noticed lights and for a short moment he thought they would have reached Maidenpool. Of course, his hopes were crushed pretty soon as he realized that the lights were far too few for an actual city. Maybe a village? Or at the very least a tavern. A tavern would be brilliant now! A warm, comfortable bed, a hot meal, maybe a warm bath and if he got extremely lucky a wench for him.
“Hey George!”, he called his companion out. The young man looked up and Garthon pointed at the lights. “A tavern!”, he explained. George gave him a curious stare and Garthon sighed. Had he explain everything to the boy? “Warm bed. Warm meal. Warm Woman. Very good”, he said, speaking slowly and slightly unnerved. George gave him a nod. “I know what a tavern is, Garthon”, he answered. “I just don't know why you're telling me that. If we ride the whole night we might be able to reach Maidenpool in the early morning”
Garthon sighed. “Yes, we might reach Maidenpool in the early morning. Completely exhausted. Soaked to the bone. Hungry”, he hissed. George looked at him, seemingly considering what he just said, but as he answered, he still seemed to be unsure. “I would really like of we just get to Maidenpool as quick as possible”, he insisted. Damn it, where did Tully even get someone like him? “But I'll leave it up to you”, the boy added. Well, that was something. Sure, the boy was right. They could reach Maidenpool in the morning. But that would only bring them closer to their deaths. Garthon looked at the tavern and his stomach growled. He did not want to die hungry.
[Stay a night at the tavern] [Ride the whole night to Maidenpool]
I nearly fell out of my chair when I read Lyria's perspective. It was great seeing Arthur and Hackor being added. I liked how you connected Hackor to Lyria in there by using the armor. I am excited to see him systematically search through the town. If he finds the assassins, I am eager to see who would come on the top of the fight.
[Stay a night at the tavern] Garthon might be able to learn a little about what is happening in Madienpool before the go in blind.
[Ride the whole night to Maidenpool]
Taverns never are good in this story XD.
[Ride the whole night to Maidenpool]
I think it's for the best
[Stay a night at the tavern]
Taverns are always good in this story
[Stay at the tavern]
Great chapter!!
[Stay a night at the tavern]
[ride the whole night to maidenpool]
[Stay a night at the tavern] They need to rest
Awesome Chapter!!!!
[Ride the whole night to Maidenpool]
(Staz a night at the tavern)
[Ride the whole night to Maidenpool]
[Stay a night at the tavern]
[Ride the whole night to Maidenpool]
(Stay the night at the tavern)
[Ride the whole night to Maidenpool]
God knows that something will happen otherwise.