Torvin
For a moment, Torvin was about to grab the bow out of Hjalgar's shaking hands. But he saw the look in Harmund's eyes. The prince w… moreasn't in a mood for such insubordination. He was only looking for an excuse to spill some blood. The captured man on the other hand was still crying, desperately praying to the Seven to save him.
“Come on, Hjalgar”, Torvin tried to encourage the boy. “You can do it! It's not different from shooting at an animal” The frightening glare of Harmund Hoare shifted from Hjalgar to him and Torvin would have shivered, if it wasn't for his desperate attempts to suppress the urge to attack this dark-eyed son of a whore. His hands were shaking, but he managed to look him in the eyes, until Harmund got bored.
Hjalgar on the other hand gave him a frightened stare. “You... you're lying”, he said. “It's nothing like shooting at animals. Animals don't beg for mercy, animals don't cry and they don't...” He stopped as… [view original content]
First, I apologize because I didn't vote soon but better later than never , I've been working, workout, playing, sleep and the rest of my remaining time was abducted by social life, anyway [Advise him to continue the hunt] because we are hunters and [Accept Martin's help] well, he's into us, not literally, anyway we can use some help from a strong warrior like Martin mainly because he can protect us.
Torvin
For a moment, Torvin was about to grab the bow out of Hjalgar's shaking hands. But he saw the look in Harmund's eyes. The prince w… moreasn't in a mood for such insubordination. He was only looking for an excuse to spill some blood. The captured man on the other hand was still crying, desperately praying to the Seven to save him.
“Come on, Hjalgar”, Torvin tried to encourage the boy. “You can do it! It's not different from shooting at an animal” The frightening glare of Harmund Hoare shifted from Hjalgar to him and Torvin would have shivered, if it wasn't for his desperate attempts to suppress the urge to attack this dark-eyed son of a whore. His hands were shaking, but he managed to look him in the eyes, until Harmund got bored.
Hjalgar on the other hand gave him a frightened stare. “You... you're lying”, he said. “It's nothing like shooting at animals. Animals don't beg for mercy, animals don't cry and they don't...” He stopped as… [view original content]
Torvin
For a moment, Torvin was about to grab the bow out of Hjalgar's shaking hands. But he saw the look in Harmund's eyes. The prince w… moreasn't in a mood for such insubordination. He was only looking for an excuse to spill some blood. The captured man on the other hand was still crying, desperately praying to the Seven to save him.
“Come on, Hjalgar”, Torvin tried to encourage the boy. “You can do it! It's not different from shooting at an animal” The frightening glare of Harmund Hoare shifted from Hjalgar to him and Torvin would have shivered, if it wasn't for his desperate attempts to suppress the urge to attack this dark-eyed son of a whore. His hands were shaking, but he managed to look him in the eyes, until Harmund got bored.
Hjalgar on the other hand gave him a frightened stare. “You... you're lying”, he said. “It's nothing like shooting at animals. Animals don't beg for mercy, animals don't cry and they don't...” He stopped as… [view original content]
First of all, I'm sorry for the few days without an update now. I have been busy the last few days and only found about an hour a day to write. As a result, it took me a while to bring the part to the point where I can reasonably say that it will be finished later today. Not that voting has been that active either way this time, but I guess the outcome of the vote is pretty clear even if I'd wait for the people who haven't voted so far. The first choice is surprisingly unanimous (I would have anticipated the other choice, but I have plans for both outcomes) and the second choice is heavily in favour of Martin, so I guess unless nine people still want to vote to decline his help, we have a pretty clear outcome here. Still, I hope that next voting will be a bit more active again
The next part will feature PoV's from Kersea and her merry band of psychotic killers as well as the return of Richard Harking and his friends after a long absence. I am very sure that I will manage to finish it later today.
The Voting is closed!
Torvin will advise Harlan to continue the hunt
Ellena will accept Martin's help
First of all, I'm sorry for t… morehe few days without an update now. I have been busy the last few days and only found about an hour a day to write. As a result, it took me a while to bring the part to the point where I can reasonably say that it will be finished later today. Not that voting has been that active either way this time, but I guess the outcome of the vote is pretty clear even if I'd wait for the people who haven't voted so far. The first choice is surprisingly unanimous (I would have anticipated the other choice, but I have plans for both outcomes) and the second choice is heavily in favour of Martin, so I guess unless nine people still want to vote to decline his help, we have a pretty clear outcome here. Still, I hope that next voting will be a bit more active again
The next part will feature PoV's from Kersea and her … [view original content]
Yes, #Norak will return later in this chapter, in the second Marak part. Since Marak won't have a very long storyline this chapter (but will have an increased focus in future chapters), it's still going to be a few parts of wait, but to make up for it it's probably going to be a long part for him.
The Voting is closed!
Torvin will advise Harlan to continue the hunt
Ellena will accept Martin's help
First of all, I'm sorry for t… morehe few days without an update now. I have been busy the last few days and only found about an hour a day to write. As a result, it took me a while to bring the part to the point where I can reasonably say that it will be finished later today. Not that voting has been that active either way this time, but I guess the outcome of the vote is pretty clear even if I'd wait for the people who haven't voted so far. The first choice is surprisingly unanimous (I would have anticipated the other choice, but I have plans for both outcomes) and the second choice is heavily in favour of Martin, so I guess unless nine people still want to vote to decline his help, we have a pretty clear outcome here. Still, I hope that next voting will be a bit more active again
The next part will feature PoV's from Kersea and her … [view original content]
“A toast”, Philip proclaimed, raising his jug. “To Richard Harking, back from the dead!” Urid raised his jug, a bit of beer swashing over the table. “To Richard!”, he shouted. “To Richard!”, Alan joined in, albeit he sounded less enthusiastically. Ilish had almost thrown him out of the tavern when Richard arrived and it needed a lot of convincing to allow him to stay. Even now, the barmaid gave him an angry glare whenever she passed the table, clearly looking for an excuse to throw Alan out of the tavern.
Lyria and Rosalie were sitting opposite of Richard and while he was glad that both of them came, Lyria felt visibly uncomfortable, while Rosalie was easily distracted by this place and especially by Philip. Richard knew, the girl had a huge crush on his friend, while he was too courteous to take advantage of that. Both of them were drinking water and Ilish had given them a surprised look as they ordered it.
And then there was Jenna... Richard's heart broke, seeing her like that. She had always been timid and frail-looking, but she looked horribly out of place in the tavern. She had insisted on drinking a beer, but from her facial expression, Richard could tell that she was disgusted by it's taste. And she was silent, more silent than ever, simply focusing on the part of the table directly in front of her. And there they were, his two best friends, his bloody brother, a reluctantly helping blacksmith and her gossipy daughter, he himself, with his wounded leg and his wounded arm and his daughter, who had suffered more than she was able to admit. And together they were up against the most dangerous man he had ever seen.
“So, Richard...”, Lyria said, causing him to look up to her. “What exactly is the plan?” She looked around. “Surely you haven't come here simply to celebrate, right?” Richard gave her a nod. “Right, the plan...”, he said, before he was interrupted by Alan. His brother had spent half of his day at this tavern already, drinking ale and unsuccessfully flirting with the barmaid. “You should calm down, lady”, he said. “That man here was basically dead for a week, give him some rest” He raised his jug. “To Richard!”, he shouted, loud enough to cause several people around them to look at them curiously.
Richard sighed as he watched his brother. “Of course we're not here to celebrate. Not as long as Wolfius is still out there”, he answered to Lyria. “Today we've gathered to make a plan how to stop him” He looked around. “Any ideas?”
Urid gave him a nod. “You said you know where they have attacked you. Perhaps you could lead us to the warehouse?”, he suggested. Philip shook his head. “Too dangerous”, he mumbled. “We know what these people did to Richard” He looked at Urid. “Think about what happens to your family if we fail” For a moment, Philip looked genuinely concerned. “No... attacking them directly is too dangerous. We have to be cunning if we want to have any chance of succeeding”
“What about the city guard?”, Lyria asked. “Commander Nathamer seems to be a reasonable man. Perhaps his men can take care of this” This caused Philip to chuckle. “Please, Lyria, you want to trust the city guard with finding a killer? They have no experience with this”
Lyria made a scoffing sigh as she heard this. “And we are farmers, blacksmiths, tailors. We're smallfolk. When there's trouble, the city guard and the lord will protect us”, she said. “Besides, as if you have any experience with finding a killer”
For a moment, Philip stared at her blankly, before slightly shaking his head. “You're wrong with that, Lyria”, he muttered. “That's not the first time I'm dealing with people like him” This caused Richard and Urid to give him a shocked stare. Richard knew that Philip had lived in the North for most of his life, but besides that he rarely got his friend to talk about his past.
“What do you mean?”, Urid asked, but Philip shook his head. “Not now, Urid”, he answered. “Just take my word that I know people who are similar to Wolfius” As he said that, he seemed to be almost melancholic, more sullen than Richard had ever seen him.
“Everything alright?”, Rosalie asked with a caring voice, gently touching his shoulder. Philip gave her a short nod. “Of course”, he said. “Just some bad memories” He closed his eyes and opened them again after a short moment, the sadness gone. “I hate people like him, who think they can do whatever they like just because they are stronger, or faster or more ruthless than others. We have to stop them. Not the city guard, but we. He's not threatening Nathamer and his men, he's threatening us, our families and loved ones. It's our duty to stop him”
“Harris”, Jenna mumbled and Richard looked at her. “Lord Harris, I mean”, she added. “He promised help” She looked up as everyone waited to hear more. Everyone except Alan at least. Richard's brother was looking at Ilish, who had turned her back towards him, standing a few tables to his left.
“That girl...”, he mumbled. “She's a stunner” Richard sighed and grabbed him at the neck, slowly forcing him to look at the others. “Alan...”, he growled. “Not now. Not her. Trust me, Ilish Granver is the only barmaid in the Reach you shouldn't flirt with”
Before Alan could answer, Lyria interrupted him. “What was that with Lord Harris?”, she asked a bit surly. Jenna avoided to look at her as she was answering. “He promised help”, she mumbled softly. “I'll help him and he will help us”
Lyria shook her head. “I admired Harris Flowers when he was still the bastard castellan. But I don't trust any lord to care enough for the smallfolk to take care of someone like Wolfius”, she said. “No, I think Philip is right. We have a duty here. We are his targets, so we have to do something to stop him”
“What happened to the city guard?”, Urid asked. “That was your idea after all” Lyria gave him a nod. “Don't get me wrong, Urid”, she answered. “We still have to involve the city guard. Commander Nathamer and his men have more experience in fighting than all of us combined. But the difference between Nathamer and Lord Harris is that Nathamer is still smallfolk. He knows our problems. The lord on the other hand... No matter how good his intentions are, what does he know about hunger and sadness and fear? What does he know about winter? No, Lord Harris might try his best, but I won't take my chances with him”
Richard sighed. “Well, I agree that we can't rely solely on Harris”, he answered and looked softly towards his daughter. “Jenna, I still want you to work with him. Can you do that?” She gave him a short nod. “I will”, she answered shortly.
“Doesn't change the fact that we have to do something ourselves. I can't just sit in my house doing nothing while a murderer preys on our friends”, Philip said. Richard gave him a nod. “We all want to do something, but we are too few to make a real difference. Like Lyria said, we're smallfolk, none of us is a trained warrior”
“And what if we had one?”, Urid interjected, causing surprised looks from his friends. “A warrior, I mean. What if we would have a real warrior on our side, a trained soldier who knows how to fight and how to kill”
He looked to a table on his right and the others followed his stare. “Oh, bloody hells no!”, Philip exclaimed. “Are you serious? Him?” A few tables across the room sat Jarow, the self-proclaimed Lord of the Bridges, his long dark brown hair hanging deep into his face, as he was staring into a jug of ale. He had saved Richards life and with his actions he had likely saved Jenna as well. It pained Richard to see his saviour like this. Jarow had been a great soldier once, one of Lord Raylan's best. Ten years ago, he had lost his mind after holding a bridge against the Ironborn, completely on his own against fifteen men. None of the Ironborn had survived that day...
“That man is a half-mad drunkard and you want to ask him for help?”, Philip asked. Urid gave him a reluctant nod. “He might be a bit eccentric, but he's also one of the best fighters this city ever had. He killed fifteen men”, he answered. Philip shrugged. “Might be true”, he admitted. “But that was ten years ago. Look at him now, he's in no condition to fight. He's a heavy drinker and a madman. You want to risk having someone like him fighting with us? He could get us all killed!”
Urid shrugged. “Still worth a try in my eyes. He has more experience than all of us combined will ever have. I don't like that either, but he could be exactly who we need” Richard still looked at the old man, feeling pity inside of him. “He saved my life”, he mumbled, causing Philip to look at him. “Oh, so you think it's a good idea working with someone like him? You wanna take the risk?”
[Ask Jarow for help][Don't ask Jarow for help]
Kersea
Kersea forced herself to smile at Alysanne, before she answered. “Yes”, she said. “Why not? We are friends” It wasn't even a real lie. Alysanne was the closest thing possible in a situation like this at least. Before Blackwater, things had been different, easier. Even Clayton had been different. Their group had almost thrice as many members back then, most of them weren't bad on a personal level. But now, only Kersea, Clayton and Alysanne remained. And Wolfius of course, if he was still alive at least.
A big grin appeared on Alysanne's face. “Really?”, she said enthusiastically. “That is... oh, that is wonderful” For a moment, Kersea had the impression that she was about to clap her hands in joy, but this moment was gone in the blink of an eye. The usual cold look returned to Alysanne's eyes. “So... what exactly went wrong in your mission?”, she asked. “I mean, you had to kill two defenceless women”
Kersea closed her eyes, recalling the older woman pleading for mercy. “Wolfius went wrong”, she answered. “He went crazy, even more than usual. He preferred to make that girl suffer instead of killing her quickly” She saw a hint of interest in Alysanne's green eyes. “Did he?”, she asked.
This put Kersea of her stride for a moment. “Did he what?”, she asked surprised. Alysanne looked her straight in the eyes, her stare appeared to be longing. “Made her suffer”, she answered. “Did he?” The casual tone in her voice would have shocked Kersea if she would talk to anyone else, but with Alysanne she should have expected it. “I... think he did”, she answered carefully. A smirk flashed across her new friends face. “I wish I could have been there”
Kersea couldn't suppress a sad smile. “Yeah, would've been for the better”, she mumbled. The curious look returned to Alysanne's eyes. “And your target?”, she asked. Kersea let out a sigh. “She died painfully”, she answered, noticing the pleased look in Alysanne's eyes. “Anyway, when it came to Wolfius target, the... the guards arrived. He took too long to kill her, I think. I really don't know”
“And you?”, Alysanne asked, narrowing her eyes in suspicion. “What have you done while the guards came?” Kersea gulped as she saw the cold look in Alysanne's eyes. They were friends now, right? That had to be good for something. “I... freaked out. Wolfius... he... he tortured that girl. Made her screams sound through the whole castle”
Alysanne shook her head. “What a fucking idiot”, she mumbled to Kersea's surprise. She had expected a stern lecture or something like that, but instead it almost looked like Alysanne understood her. “Should have damaged her throat first. Not enough to make her suffocate, but enough to silence her”, the other woman continued and Kersea let out a sigh. What had she expected?
“Anyway, I can't really blame you”, Alysanne continued. “I mean, you saved yourself. No way you could have taken the whole guard. It's Wolfius' fault for behaving like an amateur. I don't blame you for abandoning him. And neither will Clayton”
Kersea let out a joyless chuckle. “He'll find something to blame me for”, she said with resignation in her voice. Alysanne shook her head. “He won't. You know how much you mean to him” For a moment, Kersea avoided to look her in the eyes. “I do”, she answered. “That's the worst part of this whole mess”
Before Alysanne could answer, the sound of the door opening caught their attention. Years of training caused Kersea to put her hand to the place where her dagger should have been located. But she had left her own weapon in her room, in favour of Wolfius' dagger, the one with the Hoare symbol on it. And that dagger...
“Kersea!”, an all too familiar voice exclaimed and Clayton walked into her field of view. He had a stern face as he approached her, his milky white left eye contrasting strongly with his dark right eye. “We... I have been worried for you” Even though she didn't want it, he gave her a hug. “Don't do that again”, he whispered in her ear as she tried to squirm free. He finally noticed her facial expression, immediately letting go of her, albeit his hands were still resting on her shoulders. “Tell me what happened”, he urged her. “Everything”
Despite everything that happened, she couldn't refrain from shooting him a cold glare. “Well, it all started when I slaughtered the bastard who killed my parents. Then I met an even bigger bastard...”, she hissed and for a moment, Clayton looked genuinely hurt. “You know exactly how you can hurt me, don't you?”, he growled. “After all I did for you”
She snorted as she heard that and slightly rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right”, she mumbled. “I don't have to remind you of all the things you did for me, right?” Clayton shook his head. “I saved your life when Butterfly called for your head after you killed his man. I gave you a chance”, he answered. She looked him straight in the eye, searching for a hint of mockery. What she saw made her shiver. “You really believe that, don't you? You think you did me a favour. You really expect me to be thankful” She shook her head. “Fuck! You!”, she growled. “And fuck your Butterfly!”
“You're adorable when you're angry, puppy”, Alysanne chuckled and raised a brow as Kersea looked at her. “What? It's true. Adorable!” Clayton gave her a cold glare and Alysanne raised her hands. “Alright”, she mumbled. “I'm silent” She took a few steps back, looking genuinely upset.
Clayton let out a sigh and closed his eye. “I don't have time for your insults right now”, he said. “The whole city is in a turmoil” He opened his eyes again, focusing his stare on her. “Tell me what happened. I wan to hear the full truth”
Kersea gulped as she heard the sound in his voice. She knew, he mustn't learn the truth about Harking. About how she fucked it up. “It's Wolfius fault”, she said, telling at least half of the truth. “He took too long. Alarmed the guards. I barely escaped with my life” And that was the delicate part. Clayton was good at finding lies. But Kersea was a good liar...
From the moment Clayton's facial expression darkened, she knew she did a mistake. “The guards...”, he said sullenly. “Wolfius fault...” She saw something in his eyes she always feared. That one look that always marked more pain for her. “It wasn't, say, the arrival of a guy you were ordered to kill?” She gave him a shocked look, as someone else entered the room. Wolfius. There was a cut over his right eye and it appeared to be paler than usual, blinded. If anything, it made the stare out of his remaining good eye even more unsettling, since he seemed to concentrate his hatred into it, almost causing her to flinch. His bedraggled blonde hair was hanging over his face, partially covering the new wound above his eye, where a new scar would form.
“Oh, you lying little whore”, he growled. It sounded almost like an animal, a furious animal. “You thought you could get away with that, right? Luckily, I met Clayton on my way back. I told him everything” A cruel smile flashed over his face, showing his teeth. “You are screwed, whore”
Alysanne took a step towards him, but stopped when he growled at her. “Wolfius!”, she mumbled. Your... your eye...” He seemed to force himself to smile at her. “It does not matter”, he said. “This body has it's limits either way. And loosing one eye... well, it won't stop me, it won't even slow me down. But Harking... for that, I'm going to take both of his eyes and feed them to his daughter”
Kersea had no doubt that he was deadly serious with this. She gave Clayton a helpless look, but he shook his head. “Don't look at me like that, Kersea”, he said. “I've hoped you would tell me the truth. I've hoped you would be honest with me”
“Would it make any difference?”, Kersea asked, feeling the tension rising inside of her. Clayton shook his head. “Not really”, he admitted. And before she could even react, his closed fist hit her in the stomach, hard enough to make her cry out in pain and to send her to the ground. “You know what Butterfly ordered me to do”, he said, crouching down to her. “And you know how much it pains me to hurt you” She coughed, suppressing the strong urge to throw up on the floor. The punch was strong enough to make her vision blur, but she saw Alysanne's face behind Clayton in a strange mix of apathy and worry. And she saw Wolfius, grinning triumphantly. “Kill her, Clayton”, he growled. “Beat her to death”
Clayton shook his head. “Only until she learned her lesson”, he said, looking back at Kersea, his gaze hardened. “Only until she can show me that she's a good little follower, a good little killer, someone who knows how to behave” His open palm hit her in the face, causing her head to hit the hard ground below her. The impact of the hit was enough to make her struggle for consciousness.
“You know what you were ordered to do”, he growled as she was still struggling to stay awake, ignoring her numbing senses and the thumping pain on the right side of her head, were her cheek was burning in pain and warm blood was flowing down her temple. He grabbed her at the collar of her shirt, violently slapping her in the face, hitting her already wounded cheek in the process. “I ordered you to kill Harking”, he growled. “A clear order! It would have been simple, you were born to do this!” This time he hit her other cheek, causing her to moan in pain as tears flew down her face, burning in her fresh wounds, as a violent cough forced it's way up her throat. She noticed that a few drops of blood flew out of her mouth as she coughed.. “If only you could have listened!”, Clayton screamed in her face. “You know what he ordered me to do in case you misbehave!”
In some part of her brain that wasn't busy with hurting like hell, Kersea realized that Clayton was crying too. She knew, he believed that he didn't want to do it, didn't want to beat her. But she also knew that he would never refuse a direct order from Butterfly. He was a good and pathetic little follower. He slapped her again, as if he had read her thoughts, this time hitting her chin and nearly dislocating her jaw. “Next time you ignore a direct order”, Clayton growled. “Sweet little Briar will pay the price for you. I'm done protecting her from Butterfly when all you ever give me in return is hate”
The mention of her sister caused Kersea to snap back to her senses, despite the numbing pain. She realized she had clenched her fist, hard enough to make her palm hurt. Clayton hadn't noticed it, he was still busy blaming her for what he did out of his own free will, blaming her for something he clearly enjoyed. He wouldn't see it coming. In this moment, a part of Kersea wanted nothing more than to break his nose and to shatter his jaw, to punch back twice as hard. But another part of her, the part that was scared of him, was afraid of what he might do to her if she would hurt him... She realized he had closed his fist again, hauling off to hit her again...
Richard
“A toast”, Philip proclaimed, raising his jug. “To Richard Harking, back from the dead!” Urid raised his jug, a bit of beer swash… moreing over the table. “To Richard!”, he shouted. “To Richard!”, Alan joined in, albeit he sounded less enthusiastically. Ilish had almost thrown him out of the tavern when Richard arrived and it needed a lot of convincing to allow him to stay. Even now, the barmaid gave him an angry glare whenever she passed the table, clearly looking for an excuse to throw Alan out of the tavern.
Lyria and Rosalie were sitting opposite of Richard and while he was glad that both of them came, Lyria felt visibly uncomfortable, while Rosalie was easily distracted by this place and especially by Philip. Richard knew, the girl had a huge crush on his friend, while he was too courteous to take advantage of that. Both of them were drinking water and Ilish had given them a surprised look as they ordered it.
And then there w… [view original content]
Jarow reminded me of "Drunken Master", somehow, let's [Ask Jarow for help] and [Punch back] because he won't stop hitting her, I think, so she need to be strong while break his nose and some teeth.
Richard
“A toast”, Philip proclaimed, raising his jug. “To Richard Harking, back from the dead!” Urid raised his jug, a bit of beer swash… moreing over the table. “To Richard!”, he shouted. “To Richard!”, Alan joined in, albeit he sounded less enthusiastically. Ilish had almost thrown him out of the tavern when Richard arrived and it needed a lot of convincing to allow him to stay. Even now, the barmaid gave him an angry glare whenever she passed the table, clearly looking for an excuse to throw Alan out of the tavern.
Lyria and Rosalie were sitting opposite of Richard and while he was glad that both of them came, Lyria felt visibly uncomfortable, while Rosalie was easily distracted by this place and especially by Philip. Richard knew, the girl had a huge crush on his friend, while he was too courteous to take advantage of that. Both of them were drinking water and Ilish had given them a surprised look as they ordered it.
And then there w… [view original content]
Richard
“A toast”, Philip proclaimed, raising his jug. “To Richard Harking, back from the dead!” Urid raised his jug, a bit of beer swash… moreing over the table. “To Richard!”, he shouted. “To Richard!”, Alan joined in, albeit he sounded less enthusiastically. Ilish had almost thrown him out of the tavern when Richard arrived and it needed a lot of convincing to allow him to stay. Even now, the barmaid gave him an angry glare whenever she passed the table, clearly looking for an excuse to throw Alan out of the tavern.
Lyria and Rosalie were sitting opposite of Richard and while he was glad that both of them came, Lyria felt visibly uncomfortable, while Rosalie was easily distracted by this place and especially by Philip. Richard knew, the girl had a huge crush on his friend, while he was too courteous to take advantage of that. Both of them were drinking water and Ilish had given them a surprised look as they ordered it.
And then there w… [view original content]
Richard
“A toast”, Philip proclaimed, raising his jug. “To Richard Harking, back from the dead!” Urid raised his jug, a bit of beer swash… moreing over the table. “To Richard!”, he shouted. “To Richard!”, Alan joined in, albeit he sounded less enthusiastically. Ilish had almost thrown him out of the tavern when Richard arrived and it needed a lot of convincing to allow him to stay. Even now, the barmaid gave him an angry glare whenever she passed the table, clearly looking for an excuse to throw Alan out of the tavern.
Lyria and Rosalie were sitting opposite of Richard and while he was glad that both of them came, Lyria felt visibly uncomfortable, while Rosalie was easily distracted by this place and especially by Philip. Richard knew, the girl had a huge crush on his friend, while he was too courteous to take advantage of that. Both of them were drinking water and Ilish had given them a surprised look as they ordered it.
And then there w… [view original content]
Richard
“A toast”, Philip proclaimed, raising his jug. “To Richard Harking, back from the dead!” Urid raised his jug, a bit of beer swash… moreing over the table. “To Richard!”, he shouted. “To Richard!”, Alan joined in, albeit he sounded less enthusiastically. Ilish had almost thrown him out of the tavern when Richard arrived and it needed a lot of convincing to allow him to stay. Even now, the barmaid gave him an angry glare whenever she passed the table, clearly looking for an excuse to throw Alan out of the tavern.
Lyria and Rosalie were sitting opposite of Richard and while he was glad that both of them came, Lyria felt visibly uncomfortable, while Rosalie was easily distracted by this place and especially by Philip. Richard knew, the girl had a huge crush on his friend, while he was too courteous to take advantage of that. Both of them were drinking water and Ilish had given them a surprised look as they ordered it.
And then there w… [view original content]
Richard
“A toast”, Philip proclaimed, raising his jug. “To Richard Harking, back from the dead!” Urid raised his jug, a bit of beer swash… moreing over the table. “To Richard!”, he shouted. “To Richard!”, Alan joined in, albeit he sounded less enthusiastically. Ilish had almost thrown him out of the tavern when Richard arrived and it needed a lot of convincing to allow him to stay. Even now, the barmaid gave him an angry glare whenever she passed the table, clearly looking for an excuse to throw Alan out of the tavern.
Lyria and Rosalie were sitting opposite of Richard and while he was glad that both of them came, Lyria felt visibly uncomfortable, while Rosalie was easily distracted by this place and especially by Philip. Richard knew, the girl had a huge crush on his friend, while he was too courteous to take advantage of that. Both of them were drinking water and Ilish had given them a surprised look as they ordered it.
And then there w… [view original content]
Richard
“A toast”, Philip proclaimed, raising his jug. “To Richard Harking, back from the dead!” Urid raised his jug, a bit of beer swash… moreing over the table. “To Richard!”, he shouted. “To Richard!”, Alan joined in, albeit he sounded less enthusiastically. Ilish had almost thrown him out of the tavern when Richard arrived and it needed a lot of convincing to allow him to stay. Even now, the barmaid gave him an angry glare whenever she passed the table, clearly looking for an excuse to throw Alan out of the tavern.
Lyria and Rosalie were sitting opposite of Richard and while he was glad that both of them came, Lyria felt visibly uncomfortable, while Rosalie was easily distracted by this place and especially by Philip. Richard knew, the girl had a huge crush on his friend, while he was too courteous to take advantage of that. Both of them were drinking water and Ilish had given them a surprised look as they ordered it.
And then there w… [view original content]
Richard
“A toast”, Philip proclaimed, raising his jug. “To Richard Harking, back from the dead!” Urid raised his jug, a bit of beer swash… moreing over the table. “To Richard!”, he shouted. “To Richard!”, Alan joined in, albeit he sounded less enthusiastically. Ilish had almost thrown him out of the tavern when Richard arrived and it needed a lot of convincing to allow him to stay. Even now, the barmaid gave him an angry glare whenever she passed the table, clearly looking for an excuse to throw Alan out of the tavern.
Lyria and Rosalie were sitting opposite of Richard and while he was glad that both of them came, Lyria felt visibly uncomfortable, while Rosalie was easily distracted by this place and especially by Philip. Richard knew, the girl had a huge crush on his friend, while he was too courteous to take advantage of that. Both of them were drinking water and Ilish had given them a surprised look as they ordered it.
And then there w… [view original content]
Richard
“A toast”, Philip proclaimed, raising his jug. “To Richard Harking, back from the dead!” Urid raised his jug, a bit of beer swash… moreing over the table. “To Richard!”, he shouted. “To Richard!”, Alan joined in, albeit he sounded less enthusiastically. Ilish had almost thrown him out of the tavern when Richard arrived and it needed a lot of convincing to allow him to stay. Even now, the barmaid gave him an angry glare whenever she passed the table, clearly looking for an excuse to throw Alan out of the tavern.
Lyria and Rosalie were sitting opposite of Richard and while he was glad that both of them came, Lyria felt visibly uncomfortable, while Rosalie was easily distracted by this place and especially by Philip. Richard knew, the girl had a huge crush on his friend, while he was too courteous to take advantage of that. Both of them were drinking water and Ilish had given them a surprised look as they ordered it.
And then there w… [view original content]
[Don't punch back]I know liquid always make the punches look like they're thrown by a profesional boxer but a downed girl punching a grown man and hurting him?
Richard
“A toast”, Philip proclaimed, raising his jug. “To Richard Harking, back from the dead!” Urid raised his jug, a bit of beer swash… moreing over the table. “To Richard!”, he shouted. “To Richard!”, Alan joined in, albeit he sounded less enthusiastically. Ilish had almost thrown him out of the tavern when Richard arrived and it needed a lot of convincing to allow him to stay. Even now, the barmaid gave him an angry glare whenever she passed the table, clearly looking for an excuse to throw Alan out of the tavern.
Lyria and Rosalie were sitting opposite of Richard and while he was glad that both of them came, Lyria felt visibly uncomfortable, while Rosalie was easily distracted by this place and especially by Philip. Richard knew, the girl had a huge crush on his friend, while he was too courteous to take advantage of that. Both of them were drinking water and Ilish had given them a surprised look as they ordered it.
And then there w… [view original content]
Richard will politely ask Lord Jarow of the Bridges for help
Kersea will try to punch Clayton
The next part will be a Garthon/Ellena part. I know Ellena just had a part very recently, but the reason for the rapid succession in her parts is a slight miscalculation I made. The next Jaron part will take place after this Ellena part and will reference the events that happen in it, so in order to continue Jaron's storyline, I have to advance Ellena's storyline first. Anyways, the next part should be finished later today.
“You want to hear the truth?”, Garthon asked. The Harper gave him a short nod. “But what if you don't believe the truth?” “Let me worry about that”, Jon answered. “Or... perhaps you should be worried about it, a tiny bit at least” He gave Jared a short nod, who raised from his chair, walking towards the tavern's door. “Tell your story, Garthon. Convince me”
Garthon took another look at George, who shook his head again, this time not very subtle. Dacey noticed it and narrowed her eyes and of course Jon noticed it too. “Your friend does not want you to tell the truth”, Dacey remarked and George's face got bright red. “What?”, he stuttered. “I...” He sighed. “You won't believe us!”
“George”, Garthon said softly. “I believe Ser Harper here is a smart man” He gave Jon a charming smile. “You are a smart man, right?” Jon did not answer immediately, instead he slightly raised his right hand, the one that had been under the table, revealing the hilt of a knife. Garthon quickly raised both of his hands. “Okay, okay. I'll start at the beginning” He pointed at himself. “First of all, I was born on Pyke and I am the younger brother of one of Harren Hoare's captains”
He noticed the alarmed stare on Dacey's face and heard a muffled curse coming from Jared. Jon's face on the other hand stayed motionless. “Fucking knew it”, Jared mumbled. “That fight with Redloon was a ruse”
Garthon gave him a nod. “Partially”, he admitted. “But more of that later. To my defence, I have to say that I am a bit atypical for an Ironborn. I'm not that much into killing and I've never raped a girl” Dacey showed her teeth as she heard this, albeit it did not remind Garthon of a smile. “Surely you want some sort of medal now?”, she snarled.
Garthon politely ignored her remark and waited a moment before continuing. “This man next to me is George and he works for Lord Tully. Together with the lord and a few others, we are currently trying to find a way to dispose of Harren Hoare”
This caused Dacey to chuckle, while Jon allowed himself a smirk. “You want to kill Harren Hoare?”, he asked, clearly unconvinced. “An Ironborn wants to kill the greatest King of the Isles and Rivers that ever lived?”
Garthon gave him a short nod and reciprocated the Harper's smirk. “To be fair, he's only the third King of the Isles and Rivers that ever lived. Competition isn't that high when the other contestants are Halleck and Harwyn Hoare”, he said. “But I have to admit, while I was never the most enthusiastic supporter of Black Harren, I would have never even thought about rebelling against him. Unlike you, I presume”
Jon's smirk vanished. “No assumptions, Ironborn”, he growled. “Just your story” “Of course”, Garthon quickly answered. “As I said, I would have never rebelled against Harren Hoare, if it weren't for my brother insisting on working with Lord Tully to bring our beloved tyrant down”
“Your brother, the Iron Fleet captain?”, Dacey asked with suspicion in her voice. George gave her a nod. “Torvin”, he answered. “You'd like him. He's stern, ferocious, he has iron in his blood. He's the fighter, I'm the talker”
He looked at George, who seemed to be resigned and avoided to look at him. “I was, well, kinda dragged into all of this. My brother has his reasons to pick up the fight against Harren the Black. He met Edmyn Tully and together they made a suicidal plan to kill the king. I support Torvin because he is my brother, not out of any particularly rebellious feeling”
“How kind of you”, Dacey said with a mocking voice. “And why you are here, on the road to Maidenpool?” Garthon gave her a short nod. “I was getting there, my dear”, he said. “My brother, Tully and a third conspirator, Gabin Strad, stayed back at Harrenhal to win the trust of Harlan Hoare...” Jon interrupted him by spitting on the ground. “Harlan is a monster”, he said. “A cruel and violent psychopath. You're telling me that is a good idea?”
Garthon shook his head. “I'm the one telling a story as unlikely as that to three outlaws. Surely I'm not in a position to judge my brothers behaviour”, he said slowly. “However, I agree that anything involving any son of Harren Hoare or the man himself is a horrible idea”
“You didn't answer my question”, Dacey remarked. “Why are you here, Garthon?” Garthon looked back at George who sighed. “We're on our way to Maidenpool”, the boy explained. “Lord Tully has arranged a meeting with a smuggler from Lys who is going to supply us with a dangerous poison and a special crossbow forged in Qohor. Torvin's friendship with Harlan will bring us in a position where we can get close enough to Harren to kill him”
“So, that is your plan?”, Dacey asked. “Befriending the kings monster of a son to get close to him and shooting him with poisonous arrows?” She looked at Jon. “That's the most terrible story I've ever heard”
Jon shook his head. “You expect me to believe you?”, he asked. Garthon exchanged a short look with George, before answering. “The question is not if you believe me”, he mumbled and Jon gave him a curious look. “That's exactly the question”, he stated.
Garthon shook his head. “No”, he answered. “The question is, can you afford not to believe me? If you kill us now, you kill one Ironborn and one loyal Riverlander. If you let us live and our story turns out to be true, we kill Harren Hoare for you and end all your problems”
“If you succeed”, Jon remarked and Garthon raised an eyebrow. “So, you do believe us!”, he exclaimed and Jon sighed. “I do”, he answered. “To be honest, I've heard less believable stories that turned out to be true. Tully is a good man and it was only a matter of time until he would join the ranks of those who are done with kneeling to a tyrant. After what happened to Frey's daughter...”
He gave Garthon a deadly serious look. “Tell me, in your plan, what will happen to Harren's sons?”, he asked. Garthon shrugged as an answer. “I'm not that deeply involved in the plans. I assume Harlan is going to die alongside his father. Leaving Harmund, Harndon and Harrick”
Jon nodded as he heard this. “Harmund is the dangerous one”, he stated. “He's the one you have to look out for. While Harrick is similarly intelligent, he's not as malicious as his brothers, from what I've heard. Harndon on the other hand...” He didn't need to continue. Garthon knew the stories about Harndon Hoare, the kings thirdborn son. The only one who was officially proclaimed as unfit to rule, the only one who was officially proclaimed as insane and disinherited. A Hoare nonetheless. While Harmund was certainly the most dangerous of Harren's sons, Harndon was the most brutal, barely more than an animal, craving for violence and with a disturbing fondness of human flesh.
“His sons will be dealt with”, George reassured him. “Harlan is going to die alongside him, together with every other son who might be present when we assassinate the king. With a bit of luck we get Harmund with him. Harndon is of no concern for Lord Tully. He's unstable, unfit to rule. The captains and riverlords will never accept him”
“And Harrick?”, Jon asked. “The youngest son. Poetically, the best of this rotten pack” George bit his lip as he seemed to think about an answer. “Harrick isn't a bad man”, he answered. “For an Ironborn of course”
Dacey frowned as she heard this. “All of them are bad. They are wretched murderers”, she hissed. Jon shook his head before Garthon could answer. “It's not that easy, Dacey. After all, Edric gives each of them a fair trial”, he remarked. “It just happened that none of them were found innocent so far” He looked at Garthon and smirked. “Doesn't mean there are no innocent Ironborn”
Garthon gave George a nod and noticed that the boy seemed to be less tense than before. “So, we're free to go?”, he asked and attempted to stand up. Immediately, Dacey jumped up, pulling out a small knife and pointing it at him. Judging from the sound behind him, Jared was ready to attack them too. Well, that did not work as easy as planned.
“Easy, Dacey”, Jon remarked. The Harper was still sitting on his chair, carefully watching Garthon's movements. “He convinced me” Garthon let out a sigh of relief, but still waited before he continued to stand up. Dacey still had her knife pointed at him, but she made no attempt of attacking him.
“One more thing, Garthon”, Jon remarked and Garthon stopped moving. “If what you say is true, you sound like you could need some allies” He finally raised from his chair, exchanging a quick look with Dacey.
“Wait, wait, wait...”, George exclaimed. “You offer to help us? You were just about to kill us!” He looked at Garthon. “Do you.. do you think it's a good idea to work with them?” Garthon looked at the Harper. “Do I have a choice?”, he asked. Jon gave him a nod. “There's always a choice”, he answered. “If you decline my offer, you can leave on your own. We won't stop you. If you accept my offer, we will travel to Maidenpool together. It's your decision”
“But you wanted to kill us!”, George stated and Jon shook his head. “I wanted to hear your story, George Rivers”, he explained. “If I wanted you dead, I could have killed you easily. Even now, you're at my mercy. But I'm not a murderer. You two seem to be good and honest men, so I won't kill you”
Garthon looked at George, who seemed to be uncertain. “You trust them?”, he asked. George glanced at Dacey, before reluctantly shaking his head. “Not really, no...”, he admitted, causing a glare from Dacey. “It's your call of course... I mean, if you want to trust them, then I'll accept that. We could indeed use their help, if they are honest with us” Jon chuckled joyfully as he heard this. “How the roles have changed”, he mumbled. “Now it's up to you to decide if you trust us, Garthon Breaker”
[Work with Jon][Don't work with Jon]
Ellena
“So, how do you know Jaron?”, Ellena asked as they walked down the nightly streets of Oldtown. Of course she had accepted Martin's help. It would have been too dangerous to go alone, especially in this city. And Martin proved himself to be better than she thought he would be. He seemed to enjoy the opportunity to speak in his native Braavosi, just as she enjoyed hearing the familiar language. Still, she was worried sick about Terroma and what the Burned Man might do to him should he learn about his location. She knew, Jaron trusted him, but Jaron was naive in a certain way. From their talks she got the opinion that he wanted to see the world like a story, separated in black and in white. And compared to Butterfly, the Burned Man certainly looked like the white side in this conflict. But Ellena knew what men like him were capable of. If anything, he was a lighter shade of black.
“Only met him yesterday”, Martin admitted. “I was accompanying Harpy to the docks, where she wanted to visit him aboard your ship. Disliked him at first, but you can't resent that guy for long, can you?” Ellena slightly chuckled. “No, you can't”, she admitted. “And he trusts you?”
Martin narrowed his eyes. “Strange question, young lady”, he answered. “Yes, I think he trusts me. But you obviously don't” Ellena shook her head and Martin sighed. “May I ask why?”
Ellena turned her head away from him, towards the street in front of them. “Your Burned Man is a criminal”, she answered. “And one of the worst kinds on top of that. I know men like him. He exploits children for his crimes. Abbas told me”
“Normally I wouldn't give two shits about what Abbas says”, Martin answered. “But this time he spoke the truth for once, at least partially. The majority of the Burned Man's workers are children, but he is not exploiting them, not at all. They earn good money, more than they would earn by working at the docks or at the farms. They get to eat and he makes sure that they don't have to sleep on the streets”
“So you're telling me he's some sort of saint for the orphans of Oldtown?”, Ellena asked in suspicion. Martin shook his head. “That would take it too far and he would protest vehemently against such a thing. The things he uses the children for are despicable from a certain point of view. Thievery, espionage, smuggling... murder if necessary”
He stopped and looked at Ellena. “You are an orphan too, am I right, young lady?”, he asked. Ellena closed her eyes before answering. “I am”, she mumbled. “Sorry to hear that”, Martin answered. “But I assume you haven't been an orphan for long. Your parents have been rich, am I right?”
She gave him a nod. “My mother died shortly after my birth. My father was a rich merchant. He was murdered a few months ago”, she answered sullenly and felt a lump in her throat. Martin looked at her genuinely sorry. “I apologize for bringing that up”, he said. “But it proves my point. You have been rich, you grew up in a nice house with a loving father. Not all of us had that much luck. Not all of us had a choice”
He sighed. “I would have died a long time ago if it weren't for men like him. Trust me, the Burned Man is a good man compared to the bastard who took me in after my father was slain. Unlike many others in his position, he cares for the children who work for him. And unlike many others, he never had a choice either”
“What do you mean by that”, Ellena asked intrigued, albeit she noticed that her voice sounded more mocking than she intended it to sound. “Think about it, young lady”, Martin answered. “When he and Harpy arrived in Oldtown, they were a cripple and his adopted daughter, a man with a destroyed body and a young girl, far younger than you are now. They had no choice, not in this city”
He paused for a moment and Ellena noticed that his voice sounded more agitated than usual as he continued. “Butterfly on the other hand...”, he growled. “He has nothing good inside of him. The Burned Man has lines he would never cross. Butterfly on the other hand has no limits” He looked at Ellena. “If you look for a good side in this conflict, like in the stories your daddy told you when you had trouble sleeping, you're in the wrong city. Oldtown can exist with the Burned Man. With Butterfly however, this city will die”
Ellena pressed her lips together, avoiding to answer. She did not like this, not one bit. Working with someone like the Burned Man... nothing Martin could say would ever convince her that this was a good idea. Still, she had to admit that there was a lack of alternatives in this city. Children starving to death on the streets was undoubtedly worse.
“We're here”, Martin murmured, causing Ellena to shift her attention back to the street. “Ragpickers Wynd” The alleyway to her left barely deserved to be called like that. It was small and narrow, too narrow for Ellena and Martin to walk side by side. The houses framing it were high and crooked, it's roofs nearly touching each other, leaving the street in a gloomy twilight even at the brightest hours of the day. Right now, in the middle of the night, it was frighteningly dark.
“You want me to go first?”, Martin asked. Ellena shook her head, even though she had never been fond of dark alleys at night. “Just make sure that nothing happens to me”, she said with a sheepish voice. “I got your back, young lady”, Martin chuckled. “Just go ahead and don't forget to tell me as soon as the darkness scares you”
Ellena gave him an angry glare. “I am not scared by the darkness!”, she insisted, storming into the alleyway, Martin close behind her. “We're looking for a butcher's shop in here. You know one?” Martin did not answer, instead she saw that he had his right hand clenched around the hilt of his sword. “You're afraid of the dark?”, she asked with a smirk. Martin gave her a glare as she said this and shook his head. “I just like being prepared”, he answered. Ellena smiled at him. “Sure”, she chuckled, watching him narrowing his eyes. “I'm not!”, he insisted and let out a frustrated sigh. “Listen, no one likes little girls who are too smart for their own good”
Ellena grinned and started to walk deeper into the alleyway. “Butcher's shop”, she mumbled. “What does a butcher's shop look like?” Before Martin could answer, a sudden movement near one of the houses caught their attention, causing Martin to draw his sword, while Ellena almost took a jump back.
“You're pretty loud for someone who tries to sneak through a backalley at night”, a male voice whispered. A figure stepped out of a doorway to her right The man was a bit taller than Martin and wore dark clothes. Ellena only saw him as he started moving and wasn't able to see any features of his appearance until he got closer towards her. Even now, she was only able to see that he was a bearded man and apparently wore a hood. And he was definitely not Terroma.
“What do you want?”, Martin growled, shoving himself past Ellena. He pointed his sword at the stranger, who in turn raised his hands. “Easy now”, the man said. “I don't want to fight. However, it appears you want something from me. You're looking for a butcher's shop, if I heard you correctly”
Ellena narrowed her eyes. “You're the butcher?”, she asked. “Terroma's friend?” Immediately after she said this, she regretted mentioning his name. The stranger gave her a short nod. “Not the butcher, but a friend”, he answered. “I work with him while he has business here in the city. My name is Samuel Puffer”
“I know someone named Samuel”, Ellena answered and tried to sound as hostile as possible. It apparently had no effect on the stranger, who let out a deep laughter. “You obviously don't like him, am I right?”
The memory of Samuel Harrington attacking the captain aboard the Princess flashed through her head. She was almost able to feel the blade barely missing her back as she ran away from him. With a frown, she shook her head. “I hate him”, she answered and Samuel gave her a nod. “You do”, he stated. “But I'm obviously not him, right?”
“You aren't”, Ellena mumbled. “And now let us pass. We have to talk to Terroma” Samuel shook his head. “He's not here”, he explained. “Has business to do in the city. Won't be back for another day. Why do you want to talk to him?”
“I... I'm his friend. Ellena Terys”, Ellena stuttered, unsure how to deal with this man. Samuel shook his head. “He never mentioned you. What do you want from him?” Before she was able to stop herself, she had pulled out the envelope containing the letter from the Burned Man out of her pocket. Samuel narrowed his eyes. “A letter?”, he asked.
Martin turned around and sighed. “Ellena...”, he groaned. “That was stupid” Ellena gave him a reluctant nod, but she saw the look in Samuel's eyes and knew it was too late to turn back now. “A letter?”, the man asked. “You came here in the middle of the night just to give him a letter?”
“Do you want to stop me?”, Ellena asked. Samuel shook his head. “Not at all. But you can't give him the letter either. Like I said, Terroma is not here” He gave Martin a suspicious look. “However, you can give me that letter. He'll be back tomorrow or the day after. I'll tell him you have been there and left something for him. If you tell me the truth about being his friend, I'm sure he'll be overjoyed to hear this”
Martin shook his head. “Giving you the letter? Seven Hells no!”, he exclaimed, turning around towards Ellena. “Let's go, young lady. Your friend is not here. We'll come back another time” He tried to get past Ellena, who stood still in the middle of the backalley. This man claimed to be a friend of Terroma... could she trust him? If he said the truth, he could give Terroma the letter as soon as he got back from his work. The Burned Man made it clear that this letter was important. But if Samuel was lying to her, she would hand the letter to a complete stranger, perhaps even someone working for Butterfly...
Garthon
“You want to hear the truth?”, Garthon asked. The Harper gave him a short nod. “But what if you don't believe the truth?” “Let me… more worry about that”, Jon answered. “Or... perhaps you should be worried about it, a tiny bit at least” He gave Jared a short nod, who raised from his chair, walking towards the tavern's door. “Tell your story, Garthon. Convince me”
Garthon took another look at George, who shook his head again, this time not very subtle. Dacey noticed it and narrowed her eyes and of course Jon noticed it too. “Your friend does not want you to tell the truth”, Dacey remarked and George's face got bright red. “What?”, he stuttered. “I...” He sighed. “You won't believe us!”
“George”, Garthon said softly. “I believe Ser Harper here is a smart man” He gave Jon a charming smile. “You are a smart man, right?” Jon did not answer immediately, instead he slightly raised his right hand, the one that had been under the table, rev… [view original content]
Garthon
“You want to hear the truth?”, Garthon asked. The Harper gave him a short nod. “But what if you don't believe the truth?” “Let me… more worry about that”, Jon answered. “Or... perhaps you should be worried about it, a tiny bit at least” He gave Jared a short nod, who raised from his chair, walking towards the tavern's door. “Tell your story, Garthon. Convince me”
Garthon took another look at George, who shook his head again, this time not very subtle. Dacey noticed it and narrowed her eyes and of course Jon noticed it too. “Your friend does not want you to tell the truth”, Dacey remarked and George's face got bright red. “What?”, he stuttered. “I...” He sighed. “You won't believe us!”
“George”, Garthon said softly. “I believe Ser Harper here is a smart man” He gave Jon a charming smile. “You are a smart man, right?” Jon did not answer immediately, instead he slightly raised his right hand, the one that had been under the table, rev… [view original content]
Garthon
“You want to hear the truth?”, Garthon asked. The Harper gave him a short nod. “But what if you don't believe the truth?” “Let me… more worry about that”, Jon answered. “Or... perhaps you should be worried about it, a tiny bit at least” He gave Jared a short nod, who raised from his chair, walking towards the tavern's door. “Tell your story, Garthon. Convince me”
Garthon took another look at George, who shook his head again, this time not very subtle. Dacey noticed it and narrowed her eyes and of course Jon noticed it too. “Your friend does not want you to tell the truth”, Dacey remarked and George's face got bright red. “What?”, he stuttered. “I...” He sighed. “You won't believe us!”
“George”, Garthon said softly. “I believe Ser Harper here is a smart man” He gave Jon a charming smile. “You are a smart man, right?” Jon did not answer immediately, instead he slightly raised his right hand, the one that had been under the table, rev… [view original content]
Garthon
“You want to hear the truth?”, Garthon asked. The Harper gave him a short nod. “But what if you don't believe the truth?” “Let me… more worry about that”, Jon answered. “Or... perhaps you should be worried about it, a tiny bit at least” He gave Jared a short nod, who raised from his chair, walking towards the tavern's door. “Tell your story, Garthon. Convince me”
Garthon took another look at George, who shook his head again, this time not very subtle. Dacey noticed it and narrowed her eyes and of course Jon noticed it too. “Your friend does not want you to tell the truth”, Dacey remarked and George's face got bright red. “What?”, he stuttered. “I...” He sighed. “You won't believe us!”
“George”, Garthon said softly. “I believe Ser Harper here is a smart man” He gave Jon a charming smile. “You are a smart man, right?” Jon did not answer immediately, instead he slightly raised his right hand, the one that had been under the table, rev… [view original content]
Garthon
“You want to hear the truth?”, Garthon asked. The Harper gave him a short nod. “But what if you don't believe the truth?” “Let me… more worry about that”, Jon answered. “Or... perhaps you should be worried about it, a tiny bit at least” He gave Jared a short nod, who raised from his chair, walking towards the tavern's door. “Tell your story, Garthon. Convince me”
Garthon took another look at George, who shook his head again, this time not very subtle. Dacey noticed it and narrowed her eyes and of course Jon noticed it too. “Your friend does not want you to tell the truth”, Dacey remarked and George's face got bright red. “What?”, he stuttered. “I...” He sighed. “You won't believe us!”
“George”, Garthon said softly. “I believe Ser Harper here is a smart man” He gave Jon a charming smile. “You are a smart man, right?” Jon did not answer immediately, instead he slightly raised his right hand, the one that had been under the table, rev… [view original content]
The Voting is closed!
Richard will politely ask Lord Jarow of the Bridges for help
Kersea will try to punch Clayton
The next part w… moreill be a Garthon/Ellena part. I know Ellena just had a part very recently, but the reason for the rapid succession in her parts is a slight miscalculation I made. The next Jaron part will take place after this Ellena part and will reference the events that happen in it, so in order to continue Jaron's storyline, I have to advance Ellena's storyline first. Anyways, the next part should be finished later today.
Garthon
“You want to hear the truth?”, Garthon asked. The Harper gave him a short nod. “But what if you don't believe the truth?” “Let me… more worry about that”, Jon answered. “Or... perhaps you should be worried about it, a tiny bit at least” He gave Jared a short nod, who raised from his chair, walking towards the tavern's door. “Tell your story, Garthon. Convince me”
Garthon took another look at George, who shook his head again, this time not very subtle. Dacey noticed it and narrowed her eyes and of course Jon noticed it too. “Your friend does not want you to tell the truth”, Dacey remarked and George's face got bright red. “What?”, he stuttered. “I...” He sighed. “You won't believe us!”
“George”, Garthon said softly. “I believe Ser Harper here is a smart man” He gave Jon a charming smile. “You are a smart man, right?” Jon did not answer immediately, instead he slightly raised his right hand, the one that had been under the table, rev… [view original content]
Garthon
“You want to hear the truth?”, Garthon asked. The Harper gave him a short nod. “But what if you don't believe the truth?” “Let me… more worry about that”, Jon answered. “Or... perhaps you should be worried about it, a tiny bit at least” He gave Jared a short nod, who raised from his chair, walking towards the tavern's door. “Tell your story, Garthon. Convince me”
Garthon took another look at George, who shook his head again, this time not very subtle. Dacey noticed it and narrowed her eyes and of course Jon noticed it too. “Your friend does not want you to tell the truth”, Dacey remarked and George's face got bright red. “What?”, he stuttered. “I...” He sighed. “You won't believe us!”
“George”, Garthon said softly. “I believe Ser Harper here is a smart man” He gave Jon a charming smile. “You are a smart man, right?” Jon did not answer immediately, instead he slightly raised his right hand, the one that had been under the table, rev… [view original content]
Garthon
“You want to hear the truth?”, Garthon asked. The Harper gave him a short nod. “But what if you don't believe the truth?” “Let me… more worry about that”, Jon answered. “Or... perhaps you should be worried about it, a tiny bit at least” He gave Jared a short nod, who raised from his chair, walking towards the tavern's door. “Tell your story, Garthon. Convince me”
Garthon took another look at George, who shook his head again, this time not very subtle. Dacey noticed it and narrowed her eyes and of course Jon noticed it too. “Your friend does not want you to tell the truth”, Dacey remarked and George's face got bright red. “What?”, he stuttered. “I...” He sighed. “You won't believe us!”
“George”, Garthon said softly. “I believe Ser Harper here is a smart man” He gave Jon a charming smile. “You are a smart man, right?” Jon did not answer immediately, instead he slightly raised his right hand, the one that had been under the table, rev… [view original content]
Garthon
“You want to hear the truth?”, Garthon asked. The Harper gave him a short nod. “But what if you don't believe the truth?” “Let me… more worry about that”, Jon answered. “Or... perhaps you should be worried about it, a tiny bit at least” He gave Jared a short nod, who raised from his chair, walking towards the tavern's door. “Tell your story, Garthon. Convince me”
Garthon took another look at George, who shook his head again, this time not very subtle. Dacey noticed it and narrowed her eyes and of course Jon noticed it too. “Your friend does not want you to tell the truth”, Dacey remarked and George's face got bright red. “What?”, he stuttered. “I...” He sighed. “You won't believe us!”
“George”, Garthon said softly. “I believe Ser Harper here is a smart man” He gave Jon a charming smile. “You are a smart man, right?” Jon did not answer immediately, instead he slightly raised his right hand, the one that had been under the table, rev… [view original content]
Garthon
“You want to hear the truth?”, Garthon asked. The Harper gave him a short nod. “But what if you don't believe the truth?” “Let me… more worry about that”, Jon answered. “Or... perhaps you should be worried about it, a tiny bit at least” He gave Jared a short nod, who raised from his chair, walking towards the tavern's door. “Tell your story, Garthon. Convince me”
Garthon took another look at George, who shook his head again, this time not very subtle. Dacey noticed it and narrowed her eyes and of course Jon noticed it too. “Your friend does not want you to tell the truth”, Dacey remarked and George's face got bright red. “What?”, he stuttered. “I...” He sighed. “You won't believe us!”
“George”, Garthon said softly. “I believe Ser Harper here is a smart man” He gave Jon a charming smile. “You are a smart man, right?” Jon did not answer immediately, instead he slightly raised his right hand, the one that had been under the table, rev… [view original content]
[Don't give him the letter] Can't risk the chance for Butterfly to know about Terroma, better to be safe here. Ellena is going to be in trouble anyway for just revealing there is a letter to be handed over.
Garthon
“You want to hear the truth?”, Garthon asked. The Harper gave him a short nod. “But what if you don't believe the truth?” “Let me… more worry about that”, Jon answered. “Or... perhaps you should be worried about it, a tiny bit at least” He gave Jared a short nod, who raised from his chair, walking towards the tavern's door. “Tell your story, Garthon. Convince me”
Garthon took another look at George, who shook his head again, this time not very subtle. Dacey noticed it and narrowed her eyes and of course Jon noticed it too. “Your friend does not want you to tell the truth”, Dacey remarked and George's face got bright red. “What?”, he stuttered. “I...” He sighed. “You won't believe us!”
“George”, Garthon said softly. “I believe Ser Harper here is a smart man” He gave Jon a charming smile. “You are a smart man, right?” Jon did not answer immediately, instead he slightly raised his right hand, the one that had been under the table, rev… [view original content]
[Work with Jon] it's a good point that he was able to kill them but they didn't and [Don't give him the letter] they shouldn't trust a stranger and give something, he seems eager to take letter also Martin seems smart enough to don't have trust in a stranger or it's just paranoiac, whatever it is "Seven Hells no!". By the way, I like this capter about Samuel from the Darkness
Garthon
“You want to hear the truth?”, Garthon asked. The Harper gave him a short nod. “But what if you don't believe the truth?” “Let me… more worry about that”, Jon answered. “Or... perhaps you should be worried about it, a tiny bit at least” He gave Jared a short nod, who raised from his chair, walking towards the tavern's door. “Tell your story, Garthon. Convince me”
Garthon took another look at George, who shook his head again, this time not very subtle. Dacey noticed it and narrowed her eyes and of course Jon noticed it too. “Your friend does not want you to tell the truth”, Dacey remarked and George's face got bright red. “What?”, he stuttered. “I...” He sighed. “You won't believe us!”
“George”, Garthon said softly. “I believe Ser Harper here is a smart man” He gave Jon a charming smile. “You are a smart man, right?” Jon did not answer immediately, instead he slightly raised his right hand, the one that had been under the table, rev… [view original content]
Comments
(Accept Martin's help)
(Advise him to return to Harrenhal)
First, I apologize because I didn't vote soon but better later than never , I've been working, workout, playing, sleep and the rest of my remaining time was abducted by social life, anyway [Advise him to continue the hunt] because we are hunters and [Accept Martin's help] well, he's into us, not literally, anyway we can use some help from a strong warrior like Martin mainly because he can protect us.
Maybe.
[Advise him to continue the hunt] [Accept Martin's help]
The Voting is closed!
Torvin will advise Harlan to continue the hunt
Ellena will accept Martin's help
First of all, I'm sorry for the few days without an update now. I have been busy the last few days and only found about an hour a day to write. As a result, it took me a while to bring the part to the point where I can reasonably say that it will be finished later today. Not that voting has been that active either way this time, but I guess the outcome of the vote is pretty clear even if I'd wait for the people who haven't voted so far. The first choice is surprisingly unanimous (I would have anticipated the other choice, but I have plans for both outcomes) and the second choice is heavily in favour of Martin, so I guess unless nine people still want to vote to decline his help, we have a pretty clear outcome here. Still, I hope that next voting will be a bit more active again
The next part will feature PoV's from Kersea and her merry band of psychotic killers as well as the return of Richard Harking and his friends after a long absence. I am very sure that I will manage to finish it later today.
Are we going to find out what happened with #Norak ? These are questions that we need answered! Long live #Norak
Yes, #Norak will return later in this chapter, in the second Marak part. Since Marak won't have a very long storyline this chapter (but will have an increased focus in future chapters), it's still going to be a few parts of wait, but to make up for it it's probably going to be a long part for him.
Jenna Harking?
I like Jenna...
Me to man...me to
Richard
“A toast”, Philip proclaimed, raising his jug. “To Richard Harking, back from the dead!” Urid raised his jug, a bit of beer swashing over the table. “To Richard!”, he shouted. “To Richard!”, Alan joined in, albeit he sounded less enthusiastically. Ilish had almost thrown him out of the tavern when Richard arrived and it needed a lot of convincing to allow him to stay. Even now, the barmaid gave him an angry glare whenever she passed the table, clearly looking for an excuse to throw Alan out of the tavern.
Lyria and Rosalie were sitting opposite of Richard and while he was glad that both of them came, Lyria felt visibly uncomfortable, while Rosalie was easily distracted by this place and especially by Philip. Richard knew, the girl had a huge crush on his friend, while he was too courteous to take advantage of that. Both of them were drinking water and Ilish had given them a surprised look as they ordered it.
And then there was Jenna... Richard's heart broke, seeing her like that. She had always been timid and frail-looking, but she looked horribly out of place in the tavern. She had insisted on drinking a beer, but from her facial expression, Richard could tell that she was disgusted by it's taste. And she was silent, more silent than ever, simply focusing on the part of the table directly in front of her. And there they were, his two best friends, his bloody brother, a reluctantly helping blacksmith and her gossipy daughter, he himself, with his wounded leg and his wounded arm and his daughter, who had suffered more than she was able to admit. And together they were up against the most dangerous man he had ever seen.
“So, Richard...”, Lyria said, causing him to look up to her. “What exactly is the plan?” She looked around. “Surely you haven't come here simply to celebrate, right?” Richard gave her a nod. “Right, the plan...”, he said, before he was interrupted by Alan. His brother had spent half of his day at this tavern already, drinking ale and unsuccessfully flirting with the barmaid. “You should calm down, lady”, he said. “That man here was basically dead for a week, give him some rest” He raised his jug. “To Richard!”, he shouted, loud enough to cause several people around them to look at them curiously.
Richard sighed as he watched his brother. “Of course we're not here to celebrate. Not as long as Wolfius is still out there”, he answered to Lyria. “Today we've gathered to make a plan how to stop him” He looked around. “Any ideas?”
Urid gave him a nod. “You said you know where they have attacked you. Perhaps you could lead us to the warehouse?”, he suggested. Philip shook his head. “Too dangerous”, he mumbled. “We know what these people did to Richard” He looked at Urid. “Think about what happens to your family if we fail” For a moment, Philip looked genuinely concerned. “No... attacking them directly is too dangerous. We have to be cunning if we want to have any chance of succeeding”
“What about the city guard?”, Lyria asked. “Commander Nathamer seems to be a reasonable man. Perhaps his men can take care of this” This caused Philip to chuckle. “Please, Lyria, you want to trust the city guard with finding a killer? They have no experience with this”
Lyria made a scoffing sigh as she heard this. “And we are farmers, blacksmiths, tailors. We're smallfolk. When there's trouble, the city guard and the lord will protect us”, she said. “Besides, as if you have any experience with finding a killer”
For a moment, Philip stared at her blankly, before slightly shaking his head. “You're wrong with that, Lyria”, he muttered. “That's not the first time I'm dealing with people like him” This caused Richard and Urid to give him a shocked stare. Richard knew that Philip had lived in the North for most of his life, but besides that he rarely got his friend to talk about his past.
“What do you mean?”, Urid asked, but Philip shook his head. “Not now, Urid”, he answered. “Just take my word that I know people who are similar to Wolfius” As he said that, he seemed to be almost melancholic, more sullen than Richard had ever seen him.
“Everything alright?”, Rosalie asked with a caring voice, gently touching his shoulder. Philip gave her a short nod. “Of course”, he said. “Just some bad memories” He closed his eyes and opened them again after a short moment, the sadness gone. “I hate people like him, who think they can do whatever they like just because they are stronger, or faster or more ruthless than others. We have to stop them. Not the city guard, but we. He's not threatening Nathamer and his men, he's threatening us, our families and loved ones. It's our duty to stop him”
“Harris”, Jenna mumbled and Richard looked at her. “Lord Harris, I mean”, she added. “He promised help” She looked up as everyone waited to hear more. Everyone except Alan at least. Richard's brother was looking at Ilish, who had turned her back towards him, standing a few tables to his left.
“That girl...”, he mumbled. “She's a stunner” Richard sighed and grabbed him at the neck, slowly forcing him to look at the others. “Alan...”, he growled. “Not now. Not her. Trust me, Ilish Granver is the only barmaid in the Reach you shouldn't flirt with”
Before Alan could answer, Lyria interrupted him. “What was that with Lord Harris?”, she asked a bit surly. Jenna avoided to look at her as she was answering. “He promised help”, she mumbled softly. “I'll help him and he will help us”
Lyria shook her head. “I admired Harris Flowers when he was still the bastard castellan. But I don't trust any lord to care enough for the smallfolk to take care of someone like Wolfius”, she said. “No, I think Philip is right. We have a duty here. We are his targets, so we have to do something to stop him”
“What happened to the city guard?”, Urid asked. “That was your idea after all” Lyria gave him a nod. “Don't get me wrong, Urid”, she answered. “We still have to involve the city guard. Commander Nathamer and his men have more experience in fighting than all of us combined. But the difference between Nathamer and Lord Harris is that Nathamer is still smallfolk. He knows our problems. The lord on the other hand... No matter how good his intentions are, what does he know about hunger and sadness and fear? What does he know about winter? No, Lord Harris might try his best, but I won't take my chances with him”
Richard sighed. “Well, I agree that we can't rely solely on Harris”, he answered and looked softly towards his daughter. “Jenna, I still want you to work with him. Can you do that?” She gave him a short nod. “I will”, she answered shortly.
“Doesn't change the fact that we have to do something ourselves. I can't just sit in my house doing nothing while a murderer preys on our friends”, Philip said. Richard gave him a nod. “We all want to do something, but we are too few to make a real difference. Like Lyria said, we're smallfolk, none of us is a trained warrior”
“And what if we had one?”, Urid interjected, causing surprised looks from his friends. “A warrior, I mean. What if we would have a real warrior on our side, a trained soldier who knows how to fight and how to kill”
He looked to a table on his right and the others followed his stare. “Oh, bloody hells no!”, Philip exclaimed. “Are you serious? Him?” A few tables across the room sat Jarow, the self-proclaimed Lord of the Bridges, his long dark brown hair hanging deep into his face, as he was staring into a jug of ale. He had saved Richards life and with his actions he had likely saved Jenna as well. It pained Richard to see his saviour like this. Jarow had been a great soldier once, one of Lord Raylan's best. Ten years ago, he had lost his mind after holding a bridge against the Ironborn, completely on his own against fifteen men. None of the Ironborn had survived that day...
“That man is a half-mad drunkard and you want to ask him for help?”, Philip asked. Urid gave him a reluctant nod. “He might be a bit eccentric, but he's also one of the best fighters this city ever had. He killed fifteen men”, he answered. Philip shrugged. “Might be true”, he admitted. “But that was ten years ago. Look at him now, he's in no condition to fight. He's a heavy drinker and a madman. You want to risk having someone like him fighting with us? He could get us all killed!”
Urid shrugged. “Still worth a try in my eyes. He has more experience than all of us combined will ever have. I don't like that either, but he could be exactly who we need” Richard still looked at the old man, feeling pity inside of him. “He saved my life”, he mumbled, causing Philip to look at him. “Oh, so you think it's a good idea working with someone like him? You wanna take the risk?”
[Ask Jarow for help] [Don't ask Jarow for help]
Kersea
Kersea forced herself to smile at Alysanne, before she answered. “Yes”, she said. “Why not? We are friends” It wasn't even a real lie. Alysanne was the closest thing possible in a situation like this at least. Before Blackwater, things had been different, easier. Even Clayton had been different. Their group had almost thrice as many members back then, most of them weren't bad on a personal level. But now, only Kersea, Clayton and Alysanne remained. And Wolfius of course, if he was still alive at least.
A big grin appeared on Alysanne's face. “Really?”, she said enthusiastically. “That is... oh, that is wonderful” For a moment, Kersea had the impression that she was about to clap her hands in joy, but this moment was gone in the blink of an eye. The usual cold look returned to Alysanne's eyes. “So... what exactly went wrong in your mission?”, she asked. “I mean, you had to kill two defenceless women”
Kersea closed her eyes, recalling the older woman pleading for mercy. “Wolfius went wrong”, she answered. “He went crazy, even more than usual. He preferred to make that girl suffer instead of killing her quickly” She saw a hint of interest in Alysanne's green eyes. “Did he?”, she asked.
This put Kersea of her stride for a moment. “Did he what?”, she asked surprised. Alysanne looked her straight in the eyes, her stare appeared to be longing. “Made her suffer”, she answered. “Did he?” The casual tone in her voice would have shocked Kersea if she would talk to anyone else, but with Alysanne she should have expected it. “I... think he did”, she answered carefully. A smirk flashed across her new friends face. “I wish I could have been there”
Kersea couldn't suppress a sad smile. “Yeah, would've been for the better”, she mumbled. The curious look returned to Alysanne's eyes. “And your target?”, she asked. Kersea let out a sigh. “She died painfully”, she answered, noticing the pleased look in Alysanne's eyes. “Anyway, when it came to Wolfius target, the... the guards arrived. He took too long to kill her, I think. I really don't know”
“And you?”, Alysanne asked, narrowing her eyes in suspicion. “What have you done while the guards came?” Kersea gulped as she saw the cold look in Alysanne's eyes. They were friends now, right? That had to be good for something. “I... freaked out. Wolfius... he... he tortured that girl. Made her screams sound through the whole castle”
Alysanne shook her head. “What a fucking idiot”, she mumbled to Kersea's surprise. She had expected a stern lecture or something like that, but instead it almost looked like Alysanne understood her. “Should have damaged her throat first. Not enough to make her suffocate, but enough to silence her”, the other woman continued and Kersea let out a sigh. What had she expected?
“Anyway, I can't really blame you”, Alysanne continued. “I mean, you saved yourself. No way you could have taken the whole guard. It's Wolfius' fault for behaving like an amateur. I don't blame you for abandoning him. And neither will Clayton”
Kersea let out a joyless chuckle. “He'll find something to blame me for”, she said with resignation in her voice. Alysanne shook her head. “He won't. You know how much you mean to him” For a moment, Kersea avoided to look her in the eyes. “I do”, she answered. “That's the worst part of this whole mess”
Before Alysanne could answer, the sound of the door opening caught their attention. Years of training caused Kersea to put her hand to the place where her dagger should have been located. But she had left her own weapon in her room, in favour of Wolfius' dagger, the one with the Hoare symbol on it. And that dagger...
“Kersea!”, an all too familiar voice exclaimed and Clayton walked into her field of view. He had a stern face as he approached her, his milky white left eye contrasting strongly with his dark right eye. “We... I have been worried for you” Even though she didn't want it, he gave her a hug. “Don't do that again”, he whispered in her ear as she tried to squirm free. He finally noticed her facial expression, immediately letting go of her, albeit his hands were still resting on her shoulders. “Tell me what happened”, he urged her. “Everything”
Despite everything that happened, she couldn't refrain from shooting him a cold glare. “Well, it all started when I slaughtered the bastard who killed my parents. Then I met an even bigger bastard...”, she hissed and for a moment, Clayton looked genuinely hurt. “You know exactly how you can hurt me, don't you?”, he growled. “After all I did for you”
She snorted as she heard that and slightly rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right”, she mumbled. “I don't have to remind you of all the things you did for me, right?” Clayton shook his head. “I saved your life when Butterfly called for your head after you killed his man. I gave you a chance”, he answered. She looked him straight in the eye, searching for a hint of mockery. What she saw made her shiver. “You really believe that, don't you? You think you did me a favour. You really expect me to be thankful” She shook her head. “Fuck! You!”, she growled. “And fuck your Butterfly!”
“You're adorable when you're angry, puppy”, Alysanne chuckled and raised a brow as Kersea looked at her. “What? It's true. Adorable!” Clayton gave her a cold glare and Alysanne raised her hands. “Alright”, she mumbled. “I'm silent” She took a few steps back, looking genuinely upset.
Clayton let out a sigh and closed his eye. “I don't have time for your insults right now”, he said. “The whole city is in a turmoil” He opened his eyes again, focusing his stare on her. “Tell me what happened. I wan to hear the full truth”
Kersea gulped as she heard the sound in his voice. She knew, he mustn't learn the truth about Harking. About how she fucked it up. “It's Wolfius fault”, she said, telling at least half of the truth. “He took too long. Alarmed the guards. I barely escaped with my life” And that was the delicate part. Clayton was good at finding lies. But Kersea was a good liar...
From the moment Clayton's facial expression darkened, she knew she did a mistake. “The guards...”, he said sullenly. “Wolfius fault...” She saw something in his eyes she always feared. That one look that always marked more pain for her. “It wasn't, say, the arrival of a guy you were ordered to kill?” She gave him a shocked look, as someone else entered the room. Wolfius. There was a cut over his right eye and it appeared to be paler than usual, blinded. If anything, it made the stare out of his remaining good eye even more unsettling, since he seemed to concentrate his hatred into it, almost causing her to flinch. His bedraggled blonde hair was hanging over his face, partially covering the new wound above his eye, where a new scar would form.
“Oh, you lying little whore”, he growled. It sounded almost like an animal, a furious animal. “You thought you could get away with that, right? Luckily, I met Clayton on my way back. I told him everything” A cruel smile flashed over his face, showing his teeth. “You are screwed, whore”
Alysanne took a step towards him, but stopped when he growled at her. “Wolfius!”, she mumbled. Your... your eye...” He seemed to force himself to smile at her. “It does not matter”, he said. “This body has it's limits either way. And loosing one eye... well, it won't stop me, it won't even slow me down. But Harking... for that, I'm going to take both of his eyes and feed them to his daughter”
Kersea had no doubt that he was deadly serious with this. She gave Clayton a helpless look, but he shook his head. “Don't look at me like that, Kersea”, he said. “I've hoped you would tell me the truth. I've hoped you would be honest with me”
“Would it make any difference?”, Kersea asked, feeling the tension rising inside of her. Clayton shook his head. “Not really”, he admitted. And before she could even react, his closed fist hit her in the stomach, hard enough to make her cry out in pain and to send her to the ground. “You know what Butterfly ordered me to do”, he said, crouching down to her. “And you know how much it pains me to hurt you” She coughed, suppressing the strong urge to throw up on the floor. The punch was strong enough to make her vision blur, but she saw Alysanne's face behind Clayton in a strange mix of apathy and worry. And she saw Wolfius, grinning triumphantly. “Kill her, Clayton”, he growled. “Beat her to death”
Clayton shook his head. “Only until she learned her lesson”, he said, looking back at Kersea, his gaze hardened. “Only until she can show me that she's a good little follower, a good little killer, someone who knows how to behave” His open palm hit her in the face, causing her head to hit the hard ground below her. The impact of the hit was enough to make her struggle for consciousness.
“You know what you were ordered to do”, he growled as she was still struggling to stay awake, ignoring her numbing senses and the thumping pain on the right side of her head, were her cheek was burning in pain and warm blood was flowing down her temple. He grabbed her at the collar of her shirt, violently slapping her in the face, hitting her already wounded cheek in the process. “I ordered you to kill Harking”, he growled. “A clear order! It would have been simple, you were born to do this!” This time he hit her other cheek, causing her to moan in pain as tears flew down her face, burning in her fresh wounds, as a violent cough forced it's way up her throat. She noticed that a few drops of blood flew out of her mouth as she coughed.. “If only you could have listened!”, Clayton screamed in her face. “You know what he ordered me to do in case you misbehave!”
In some part of her brain that wasn't busy with hurting like hell, Kersea realized that Clayton was crying too. She knew, he believed that he didn't want to do it, didn't want to beat her. But she also knew that he would never refuse a direct order from Butterfly. He was a good and pathetic little follower. He slapped her again, as if he had read her thoughts, this time hitting her chin and nearly dislocating her jaw. “Next time you ignore a direct order”, Clayton growled. “Sweet little Briar will pay the price for you. I'm done protecting her from Butterfly when all you ever give me in return is hate”
The mention of her sister caused Kersea to snap back to her senses, despite the numbing pain. She realized she had clenched her fist, hard enough to make her palm hurt. Clayton hadn't noticed it, he was still busy blaming her for what he did out of his own free will, blaming her for something he clearly enjoyed. He wouldn't see it coming. In this moment, a part of Kersea wanted nothing more than to break his nose and to shatter his jaw, to punch back twice as hard. But another part of her, the part that was scared of him, was afraid of what he might do to her if she would hurt him... She realized he had closed his fist again, hauling off to hit her again...
[Punch back] [Don't punch back]
[Ask Jarow for help] I was about to vote for no when i realized Urid is involved XD.
[Don't punch back] Be Stoic Kersea! Be a submisive bitch!
Awesome chapter!
Jarow reminded me of "Drunken Master", somehow, let's [Ask Jarow for help] and [Punch back] because he won't stop hitting her, I think, so she need to be strong while break his nose and some teeth.
[Don't ask Jarow for help]If he were to help, who would defend the bridges in his absence?
[Don't punch back]Nah Brah, you done for.
[Don't ask Jarow for help]
[Don't punch back]
[Punch back]
[Ask Jarow for help]
[punch back] kill 'em all.
[Ask Jarow for help]
great part
[Punch back]
[Ask Jarow for help]
(Dont ask Jarow for help)
(Punch back)
[Ask Jarow for help]
[Punch back]
[Punch back]
[Ask Jarow for help]
[Ask Jarow for help] Lord Jarow will always help the smallfolk
[Punch back] when have we not taken the good'ol one two to the face
[Don't punch back]I know liquid always make the punches look like they're thrown by a profesional boxer but a downed girl punching a grown man and hurting him?
[Ask Jarow for help]
[Punch back]
The Voting is closed!
Richard will politely ask Lord Jarow of the Bridges for help
Kersea will try to punch Clayton
The next part will be a Garthon/Ellena part. I know Ellena just had a part very recently, but the reason for the rapid succession in her parts is a slight miscalculation I made. The next Jaron part will take place after this Ellena part and will reference the events that happen in it, so in order to continue Jaron's storyline, I have to advance Ellena's storyline first. Anyways, the next part should be finished later today.
Garthon
“You want to hear the truth?”, Garthon asked. The Harper gave him a short nod. “But what if you don't believe the truth?” “Let me worry about that”, Jon answered. “Or... perhaps you should be worried about it, a tiny bit at least” He gave Jared a short nod, who raised from his chair, walking towards the tavern's door. “Tell your story, Garthon. Convince me”
Garthon took another look at George, who shook his head again, this time not very subtle. Dacey noticed it and narrowed her eyes and of course Jon noticed it too. “Your friend does not want you to tell the truth”, Dacey remarked and George's face got bright red. “What?”, he stuttered. “I...” He sighed. “You won't believe us!”
“George”, Garthon said softly. “I believe Ser Harper here is a smart man” He gave Jon a charming smile. “You are a smart man, right?” Jon did not answer immediately, instead he slightly raised his right hand, the one that had been under the table, revealing the hilt of a knife. Garthon quickly raised both of his hands. “Okay, okay. I'll start at the beginning” He pointed at himself. “First of all, I was born on Pyke and I am the younger brother of one of Harren Hoare's captains”
He noticed the alarmed stare on Dacey's face and heard a muffled curse coming from Jared. Jon's face on the other hand stayed motionless. “Fucking knew it”, Jared mumbled. “That fight with Redloon was a ruse”
Garthon gave him a nod. “Partially”, he admitted. “But more of that later. To my defence, I have to say that I am a bit atypical for an Ironborn. I'm not that much into killing and I've never raped a girl” Dacey showed her teeth as she heard this, albeit it did not remind Garthon of a smile. “Surely you want some sort of medal now?”, she snarled.
Garthon politely ignored her remark and waited a moment before continuing. “This man next to me is George and he works for Lord Tully. Together with the lord and a few others, we are currently trying to find a way to dispose of Harren Hoare”
This caused Dacey to chuckle, while Jon allowed himself a smirk. “You want to kill Harren Hoare?”, he asked, clearly unconvinced. “An Ironborn wants to kill the greatest King of the Isles and Rivers that ever lived?”
Garthon gave him a short nod and reciprocated the Harper's smirk. “To be fair, he's only the third King of the Isles and Rivers that ever lived. Competition isn't that high when the other contestants are Halleck and Harwyn Hoare”, he said. “But I have to admit, while I was never the most enthusiastic supporter of Black Harren, I would have never even thought about rebelling against him. Unlike you, I presume”
Jon's smirk vanished. “No assumptions, Ironborn”, he growled. “Just your story” “Of course”, Garthon quickly answered. “As I said, I would have never rebelled against Harren Hoare, if it weren't for my brother insisting on working with Lord Tully to bring our beloved tyrant down”
“Your brother, the Iron Fleet captain?”, Dacey asked with suspicion in her voice. George gave her a nod. “Torvin”, he answered. “You'd like him. He's stern, ferocious, he has iron in his blood. He's the fighter, I'm the talker”
He looked at George, who seemed to be resigned and avoided to look at him. “I was, well, kinda dragged into all of this. My brother has his reasons to pick up the fight against Harren the Black. He met Edmyn Tully and together they made a suicidal plan to kill the king. I support Torvin because he is my brother, not out of any particularly rebellious feeling”
“How kind of you”, Dacey said with a mocking voice. “And why you are here, on the road to Maidenpool?” Garthon gave her a short nod. “I was getting there, my dear”, he said. “My brother, Tully and a third conspirator, Gabin Strad, stayed back at Harrenhal to win the trust of Harlan Hoare...” Jon interrupted him by spitting on the ground. “Harlan is a monster”, he said. “A cruel and violent psychopath. You're telling me that is a good idea?”
Garthon shook his head. “I'm the one telling a story as unlikely as that to three outlaws. Surely I'm not in a position to judge my brothers behaviour”, he said slowly. “However, I agree that anything involving any son of Harren Hoare or the man himself is a horrible idea”
“You didn't answer my question”, Dacey remarked. “Why are you here, Garthon?” Garthon looked back at George who sighed. “We're on our way to Maidenpool”, the boy explained. “Lord Tully has arranged a meeting with a smuggler from Lys who is going to supply us with a dangerous poison and a special crossbow forged in Qohor. Torvin's friendship with Harlan will bring us in a position where we can get close enough to Harren to kill him”
“So, that is your plan?”, Dacey asked. “Befriending the kings monster of a son to get close to him and shooting him with poisonous arrows?” She looked at Jon. “That's the most terrible story I've ever heard”
Jon shook his head. “You expect me to believe you?”, he asked. Garthon exchanged a short look with George, before answering. “The question is not if you believe me”, he mumbled and Jon gave him a curious look. “That's exactly the question”, he stated.
Garthon shook his head. “No”, he answered. “The question is, can you afford not to believe me? If you kill us now, you kill one Ironborn and one loyal Riverlander. If you let us live and our story turns out to be true, we kill Harren Hoare for you and end all your problems”
“If you succeed”, Jon remarked and Garthon raised an eyebrow. “So, you do believe us!”, he exclaimed and Jon sighed. “I do”, he answered. “To be honest, I've heard less believable stories that turned out to be true. Tully is a good man and it was only a matter of time until he would join the ranks of those who are done with kneeling to a tyrant. After what happened to Frey's daughter...”
He gave Garthon a deadly serious look. “Tell me, in your plan, what will happen to Harren's sons?”, he asked. Garthon shrugged as an answer. “I'm not that deeply involved in the plans. I assume Harlan is going to die alongside his father. Leaving Harmund, Harndon and Harrick”
Jon nodded as he heard this. “Harmund is the dangerous one”, he stated. “He's the one you have to look out for. While Harrick is similarly intelligent, he's not as malicious as his brothers, from what I've heard. Harndon on the other hand...” He didn't need to continue. Garthon knew the stories about Harndon Hoare, the kings thirdborn son. The only one who was officially proclaimed as unfit to rule, the only one who was officially proclaimed as insane and disinherited. A Hoare nonetheless. While Harmund was certainly the most dangerous of Harren's sons, Harndon was the most brutal, barely more than an animal, craving for violence and with a disturbing fondness of human flesh.
“His sons will be dealt with”, George reassured him. “Harlan is going to die alongside him, together with every other son who might be present when we assassinate the king. With a bit of luck we get Harmund with him. Harndon is of no concern for Lord Tully. He's unstable, unfit to rule. The captains and riverlords will never accept him”
“And Harrick?”, Jon asked. “The youngest son. Poetically, the best of this rotten pack” George bit his lip as he seemed to think about an answer. “Harrick isn't a bad man”, he answered. “For an Ironborn of course”
Dacey frowned as she heard this. “All of them are bad. They are wretched murderers”, she hissed. Jon shook his head before Garthon could answer. “It's not that easy, Dacey. After all, Edric gives each of them a fair trial”, he remarked. “It just happened that none of them were found innocent so far” He looked at Garthon and smirked. “Doesn't mean there are no innocent Ironborn”
Garthon gave George a nod and noticed that the boy seemed to be less tense than before. “So, we're free to go?”, he asked and attempted to stand up. Immediately, Dacey jumped up, pulling out a small knife and pointing it at him. Judging from the sound behind him, Jared was ready to attack them too. Well, that did not work as easy as planned.
“Easy, Dacey”, Jon remarked. The Harper was still sitting on his chair, carefully watching Garthon's movements. “He convinced me” Garthon let out a sigh of relief, but still waited before he continued to stand up. Dacey still had her knife pointed at him, but she made no attempt of attacking him.
“One more thing, Garthon”, Jon remarked and Garthon stopped moving. “If what you say is true, you sound like you could need some allies” He finally raised from his chair, exchanging a quick look with Dacey.
“Wait, wait, wait...”, George exclaimed. “You offer to help us? You were just about to kill us!” He looked at Garthon. “Do you.. do you think it's a good idea to work with them?” Garthon looked at the Harper. “Do I have a choice?”, he asked. Jon gave him a nod. “There's always a choice”, he answered. “If you decline my offer, you can leave on your own. We won't stop you. If you accept my offer, we will travel to Maidenpool together. It's your decision”
“But you wanted to kill us!”, George stated and Jon shook his head. “I wanted to hear your story, George Rivers”, he explained. “If I wanted you dead, I could have killed you easily. Even now, you're at my mercy. But I'm not a murderer. You two seem to be good and honest men, so I won't kill you”
Garthon looked at George, who seemed to be uncertain. “You trust them?”, he asked. George glanced at Dacey, before reluctantly shaking his head. “Not really, no...”, he admitted, causing a glare from Dacey. “It's your call of course... I mean, if you want to trust them, then I'll accept that. We could indeed use their help, if they are honest with us” Jon chuckled joyfully as he heard this. “How the roles have changed”, he mumbled. “Now it's up to you to decide if you trust us, Garthon Breaker”
[Work with Jon] [Don't work with Jon]
Ellena
“So, how do you know Jaron?”, Ellena asked as they walked down the nightly streets of Oldtown. Of course she had accepted Martin's help. It would have been too dangerous to go alone, especially in this city. And Martin proved himself to be better than she thought he would be. He seemed to enjoy the opportunity to speak in his native Braavosi, just as she enjoyed hearing the familiar language. Still, she was worried sick about Terroma and what the Burned Man might do to him should he learn about his location. She knew, Jaron trusted him, but Jaron was naive in a certain way. From their talks she got the opinion that he wanted to see the world like a story, separated in black and in white. And compared to Butterfly, the Burned Man certainly looked like the white side in this conflict. But Ellena knew what men like him were capable of. If anything, he was a lighter shade of black.
“Only met him yesterday”, Martin admitted. “I was accompanying Harpy to the docks, where she wanted to visit him aboard your ship. Disliked him at first, but you can't resent that guy for long, can you?” Ellena slightly chuckled. “No, you can't”, she admitted. “And he trusts you?”
Martin narrowed his eyes. “Strange question, young lady”, he answered. “Yes, I think he trusts me. But you obviously don't” Ellena shook her head and Martin sighed. “May I ask why?”
Ellena turned her head away from him, towards the street in front of them. “Your Burned Man is a criminal”, she answered. “And one of the worst kinds on top of that. I know men like him. He exploits children for his crimes. Abbas told me”
“Normally I wouldn't give two shits about what Abbas says”, Martin answered. “But this time he spoke the truth for once, at least partially. The majority of the Burned Man's workers are children, but he is not exploiting them, not at all. They earn good money, more than they would earn by working at the docks or at the farms. They get to eat and he makes sure that they don't have to sleep on the streets”
“So you're telling me he's some sort of saint for the orphans of Oldtown?”, Ellena asked in suspicion. Martin shook his head. “That would take it too far and he would protest vehemently against such a thing. The things he uses the children for are despicable from a certain point of view. Thievery, espionage, smuggling... murder if necessary”
He stopped and looked at Ellena. “You are an orphan too, am I right, young lady?”, he asked. Ellena closed her eyes before answering. “I am”, she mumbled. “Sorry to hear that”, Martin answered. “But I assume you haven't been an orphan for long. Your parents have been rich, am I right?”
She gave him a nod. “My mother died shortly after my birth. My father was a rich merchant. He was murdered a few months ago”, she answered sullenly and felt a lump in her throat. Martin looked at her genuinely sorry. “I apologize for bringing that up”, he said. “But it proves my point. You have been rich, you grew up in a nice house with a loving father. Not all of us had that much luck. Not all of us had a choice”
He sighed. “I would have died a long time ago if it weren't for men like him. Trust me, the Burned Man is a good man compared to the bastard who took me in after my father was slain. Unlike many others in his position, he cares for the children who work for him. And unlike many others, he never had a choice either”
“What do you mean by that”, Ellena asked intrigued, albeit she noticed that her voice sounded more mocking than she intended it to sound. “Think about it, young lady”, Martin answered. “When he and Harpy arrived in Oldtown, they were a cripple and his adopted daughter, a man with a destroyed body and a young girl, far younger than you are now. They had no choice, not in this city”
He paused for a moment and Ellena noticed that his voice sounded more agitated than usual as he continued. “Butterfly on the other hand...”, he growled. “He has nothing good inside of him. The Burned Man has lines he would never cross. Butterfly on the other hand has no limits” He looked at Ellena. “If you look for a good side in this conflict, like in the stories your daddy told you when you had trouble sleeping, you're in the wrong city. Oldtown can exist with the Burned Man. With Butterfly however, this city will die”
Ellena pressed her lips together, avoiding to answer. She did not like this, not one bit. Working with someone like the Burned Man... nothing Martin could say would ever convince her that this was a good idea. Still, she had to admit that there was a lack of alternatives in this city. Children starving to death on the streets was undoubtedly worse.
“We're here”, Martin murmured, causing Ellena to shift her attention back to the street. “Ragpickers Wynd” The alleyway to her left barely deserved to be called like that. It was small and narrow, too narrow for Ellena and Martin to walk side by side. The houses framing it were high and crooked, it's roofs nearly touching each other, leaving the street in a gloomy twilight even at the brightest hours of the day. Right now, in the middle of the night, it was frighteningly dark.
“You want me to go first?”, Martin asked. Ellena shook her head, even though she had never been fond of dark alleys at night. “Just make sure that nothing happens to me”, she said with a sheepish voice. “I got your back, young lady”, Martin chuckled. “Just go ahead and don't forget to tell me as soon as the darkness scares you”
Ellena gave him an angry glare. “I am not scared by the darkness!”, she insisted, storming into the alleyway, Martin close behind her. “We're looking for a butcher's shop in here. You know one?” Martin did not answer, instead she saw that he had his right hand clenched around the hilt of his sword. “You're afraid of the dark?”, she asked with a smirk. Martin gave her a glare as she said this and shook his head. “I just like being prepared”, he answered. Ellena smiled at him. “Sure”, she chuckled, watching him narrowing his eyes. “I'm not!”, he insisted and let out a frustrated sigh. “Listen, no one likes little girls who are too smart for their own good”
Ellena grinned and started to walk deeper into the alleyway. “Butcher's shop”, she mumbled. “What does a butcher's shop look like?” Before Martin could answer, a sudden movement near one of the houses caught their attention, causing Martin to draw his sword, while Ellena almost took a jump back.
“You're pretty loud for someone who tries to sneak through a backalley at night”, a male voice whispered. A figure stepped out of a doorway to her right The man was a bit taller than Martin and wore dark clothes. Ellena only saw him as he started moving and wasn't able to see any features of his appearance until he got closer towards her. Even now, she was only able to see that he was a bearded man and apparently wore a hood. And he was definitely not Terroma.
“What do you want?”, Martin growled, shoving himself past Ellena. He pointed his sword at the stranger, who in turn raised his hands. “Easy now”, the man said. “I don't want to fight. However, it appears you want something from me. You're looking for a butcher's shop, if I heard you correctly”
Ellena narrowed her eyes. “You're the butcher?”, she asked. “Terroma's friend?” Immediately after she said this, she regretted mentioning his name. The stranger gave her a short nod. “Not the butcher, but a friend”, he answered. “I work with him while he has business here in the city. My name is Samuel Puffer”
“I know someone named Samuel”, Ellena answered and tried to sound as hostile as possible. It apparently had no effect on the stranger, who let out a deep laughter. “You obviously don't like him, am I right?”
The memory of Samuel Harrington attacking the captain aboard the Princess flashed through her head. She was almost able to feel the blade barely missing her back as she ran away from him. With a frown, she shook her head. “I hate him”, she answered and Samuel gave her a nod. “You do”, he stated. “But I'm obviously not him, right?”
“You aren't”, Ellena mumbled. “And now let us pass. We have to talk to Terroma” Samuel shook his head. “He's not here”, he explained. “Has business to do in the city. Won't be back for another day. Why do you want to talk to him?”
“I... I'm his friend. Ellena Terys”, Ellena stuttered, unsure how to deal with this man. Samuel shook his head. “He never mentioned you. What do you want from him?” Before she was able to stop herself, she had pulled out the envelope containing the letter from the Burned Man out of her pocket. Samuel narrowed his eyes. “A letter?”, he asked.
Martin turned around and sighed. “Ellena...”, he groaned. “That was stupid” Ellena gave him a reluctant nod, but she saw the look in Samuel's eyes and knew it was too late to turn back now. “A letter?”, the man asked. “You came here in the middle of the night just to give him a letter?”
“Do you want to stop me?”, Ellena asked. Samuel shook his head. “Not at all. But you can't give him the letter either. Like I said, Terroma is not here” He gave Martin a suspicious look. “However, you can give me that letter. He'll be back tomorrow or the day after. I'll tell him you have been there and left something for him. If you tell me the truth about being his friend, I'm sure he'll be overjoyed to hear this”
Martin shook his head. “Giving you the letter? Seven Hells no!”, he exclaimed, turning around towards Ellena. “Let's go, young lady. Your friend is not here. We'll come back another time” He tried to get past Ellena, who stood still in the middle of the backalley. This man claimed to be a friend of Terroma... could she trust him? If he said the truth, he could give Terroma the letter as soon as he got back from his work. The Burned Man made it clear that this letter was important. But if Samuel was lying to her, she would hand the letter to a complete stranger, perhaps even someone working for Butterfly...
[Give him the letter] [Don't give him the letter]
[Don't work with Jon] got trust issues.
[Give him the letter] I feel like Terroma won't get the letter in time otherwise still don't trust this guy though.
[Work with Jon]
[Don't give him the letter]
[Work with Jon][Don't give him the letter]
[Work with Jon]
[Give him the letter]
Samuel! :-D
(Work with Jon)
(Dont Give him the letter)
[Work with Jon]
[Give him the letter]
I missed it...
[Don't ask Jarow for help]
[Don't punch back]
You didn't see anything.
[Don't work with Jon] We don't need his fucking help.
[Don't give him the letter] Nahhh. Fucking hate this shitbird Butterfly.
[work with jon]
[dont give him the letter]
[Work with Jon]
[Don't give him the letter]
[Work with Jon]
[Don't give him the letter]
[Work with Jon]
[Give him the letter]
[Work with Jon] We are all in the same boat here
[Don't give him the letter] Can't risk the chance for Butterfly to know about Terroma, better to be safe here. Ellena is going to be in trouble anyway for just revealing there is a letter to be handed over.
[Work with Jon] it's a good point that he was able to kill them but they didn't and [Don't give him the letter] they shouldn't trust a stranger and give something, he seems eager to take letter also Martin seems smart enough to don't have trust in a stranger or it's just paranoiac, whatever it is "Seven Hells no!". By the way, I like this capter about Samuel from the Darkness