Torvin
“I'm sorry brother. I have to do this“, Torvin mumbled. Garthon looked at him as if he had lost his mind. “This is madness, brothe… morer... Don't let the Riverlord drag you down with him...“, he muttered in disbelief. Torvin turned around to look at the King. Harrenhals Great Hall did truly deserve it's name. In his arrogance, the King of the Isles and Rivers had built himself the largest castle the world had ever seen. While his father Halleck, no less a bloodthirsty tyrant, had ruled from an almost humble tower house in the city of Fairmarket, this did not suffice for Harren, who desired more. Building Harrenhal took forty years, claimed the lifes of countless forced workers and bled the Kingdom dry. The result was a monument to Harrens hybris. The Great Hall alone was able to hold an army. “The Hall of the Hundred Hearths“ it was called. Torvin had counted them and found out there were not more than thirty-five hearths. Right now almo… [view original content]
The Voting is closed! And it was completely unanimous this time
Torvin will work with Lord Tully against Harren Hoare
Leonard will accompany Lucas on his search for Dairon
The new chapter is about halfway done and should be up later today
I'm sorry. The new part was supposed to be up yesterday, but while I was writing, the part got longer and longer. So far, it is the longest part and will likely be posted in two posts. It is 3/4 done and will be up in the next 3 hours!
I am also sad to announce that someone sent me the first character I actually won't accept. The noble Sir Jar-Jar of Binks (I'm not kidding you, that is indeed a submitted character) won't be accepted into the story for two reasons:
I have no plans on making a Kingdom of Naboo PoV. The Kingdom plays a very minor, if not to say almost nonexistent role in the books and as a result won't appear in this story either. Sir Jar-Jar sadly has no good reason to ever leave his kingdom and I can't think of a good one. Or I don't want to. Yeah, I probably don't want to...
I also don't think my writing ability is polished enough to create the magnificence of a Gungan PoV. These majestic creatures deserve a better writer than me.
Sorry for that, creator of Sir Jar-Jar. Had you left your name, while submitting, I could have contacted you directly. Please, feel free to submit another character, I got a good laugh out of this one!
And in general, there is one rule in the character creation I have not mentioned: Your character can't be a White Walker, Children of the Forest, Giant, Grumkin, Snark, Lizardman of Sothoryos, Dragon or Gungan. Stick with humans, they are versatile enough
I'm sorry. The new part was supposed to be up yesterday, but while I was writing, the part got longer and longer. So far, it is the longest … morepart and will likely be posted in two posts. It is 3/4 done and will be up in the next 3 hours!
I am also sad to announce that someone sent me the first character I actually won't accept. The noble Sir Jar-Jar of Binks (I'm not kidding you, that is indeed a submitted character) won't be accepted into the story for two reasons:
* I have no plans on making a Kingdom of Naboo PoV. The Kingdom plays a very minor, if not to say almost nonexistent role in the books and as a result won't appear in this story either. Sir Jar-Jar sadly has no good reason to ever leave his kingdom and I can't think of a good one. Or I don't want to. Yeah, I probably don't want to...
* I also don't think my writing ability is polished enough to create the magnificence of a Gungan PoV. These majestic creatures deserve a bett… [view original content]
I'm sorry. The new part was supposed to be up yesterday, but while I was writing, the part got longer and longer. So far, it is the longest … morepart and will likely be posted in two posts. It is 3/4 done and will be up in the next 3 hours!
I am also sad to announce that someone sent me the first character I actually won't accept. The noble Sir Jar-Jar of Binks (I'm not kidding you, that is indeed a submitted character) won't be accepted into the story for two reasons:
* I have no plans on making a Kingdom of Naboo PoV. The Kingdom plays a very minor, if not to say almost nonexistent role in the books and as a result won't appear in this story either. Sir Jar-Jar sadly has no good reason to ever leave his kingdom and I can't think of a good one. Or I don't want to. Yeah, I probably don't want to...
* I also don't think my writing ability is polished enough to create the magnificence of a Gungan PoV. These majestic creatures deserve a bett… [view original content]
I'm sorry. The new part was supposed to be up yesterday, but while I was writing, the part got longer and longer. So far, it is the longest … morepart and will likely be posted in two posts. It is 3/4 done and will be up in the next 3 hours!
I am also sad to announce that someone sent me the first character I actually won't accept. The noble Sir Jar-Jar of Binks (I'm not kidding you, that is indeed a submitted character) won't be accepted into the story for two reasons:
* I have no plans on making a Kingdom of Naboo PoV. The Kingdom plays a very minor, if not to say almost nonexistent role in the books and as a result won't appear in this story either. Sir Jar-Jar sadly has no good reason to ever leave his kingdom and I can't think of a good one. Or I don't want to. Yeah, I probably don't want to...
* I also don't think my writing ability is polished enough to create the magnificence of a Gungan PoV. These majestic creatures deserve a bett… [view original content]
“Fine, Himani, lead the way. I don't think I have much of a choice in this, have I?“, Jaron said with a sigh. Himani gave him a bright smile. “Not if you're as clever as Ser Matthos!“, he said cheerfully. Now what was that supposed to mean? Jaron looked at the innkeeper's wife with an apologizing look. “Good woman, I am afraid I won't have time to eat this meal. Please, take care of my horse, I'll be back soon.“
With these words he stood up. Himani already walked to the door and Jaron had to struggle to follow the urchin. Was it really wise to follow this blasted boy? He quickly stepped out of the inn. Himani waited for him at a corner. It was the eraly afternoon, the sun was burning hot and the streets were crowded. “You don't need to worry about pickpockets, Ser Jaron“, Himani said, as if he had read Jarons thoughts. “Most of them know you're with me. I will warn you about ones who don't“ With these words he continued to walk down the streets, the Hedge Knight followed him closely, always one hand on his purse.
Jaron didn't knew Oldtown very well and soon was completely lost. The only thing he could tell was, that Himani lead him closer to the sea. And closer to the Tower. The Hightower, seat of the house by the same name and visible from every point in the city, came consistently closer, until Himani finally left the smaller roads and stepped onto Oldtowns main street. From here, the Hightower with its famous lighthouse on top could be seen directly, without any buildings partially blocking the view. Even though it wasn't the first time Jaron had seen the Tower, he was taken aback for a moment by how tall it really was. Ser Matthos once told him that it was the tallest building in Westeros, even taller than the Wall. It's foundations were likely built by the ancient Valyrians, though more disturbing rumours told about ancient ruins under the tower, ruins predating the arrival of men in Westeros.
Himani followed the main street for a while and for a short moment Jaron actually suspected that the boy was going to lead him to the Tower himself, or at the very least to one of the fancy mansions that surrounded it. But finally the boy took another turn into a smaller side road that lead down to the port. While the main street was crowded with people, this side street was almost empty and nearly as luxuriously built. During this time of the day, the Hightower shadowed over this part of the city, leaving it in a somber and eery twilight. Some of the cities poorer citizens obviously came here to cool down from the hot autumn sun. Finally, Himani stopped in front of a small, two-storied building. Jaron noticed a crude drawing next to the door, looking like a woman with wings and a tail. “We're here, Ser Jaron. It's time to meet the Burned Man“, Himani said, almost with awe in his voice.
Jaron gulped. “One question Himani... Why is he called “Burned Man“?“ Seven Hells why did he ask that? He did not want to know that!
Himani smiled. “You will see, Ser Jaron“, he said in an ominous tone. Right... As if that makes it any better. Jaron always had a good imagination, but right now he was cursing it.
The urchin stepped to the door and knocked on it. After a few moments, Jaron could hear the door getting unlocked. A young woman opened the door, a pale girl, maybe in Jarons age with long and very dark brown hair and oddly red highlights. She gave Jaron a frightened look, but seemed to calm down as she saw Himani.
“Did anyone follow you?“, she asked the boy. Jaron noticed the hint of an accent in her voice. It sounded foreign, maybe from the Free Cities, maybe even Ghiscari. At least the hair colour looked Ghiscari. The boy shook his head and the girl let out a sigh of relief. With a hand gesture she waved Jaron and Himani in the house. Jaron was a bit disappointed for a moment. The Burned Man's house looked like a completely ordinary commoners house, maybe a bit better furnished. The girl stepped next to him and grabbed him by the arm.
“If you want to leave, now is your last chance..“, she said with a pleading tone. Jaron looked at the door and for a moment he wanted nothing more than to leave. This wasn't right. This would not end well. But Ser Matthos was involved in this. The man had raised him since he was twelve years old and so far Jaron thought of him as the best man he ever had the honor to know. The Matthos he knew would never get involved with someone who felt the need to hide in a rundown building and sent urchins to do his dirty work. Jaron had to find out what was going on here. He owed Ser Matthos that much. Besides, the great heroes in the stories never ran away from anything.
“Well, I won't leave... Sorry, I think I didn't heard your name“, Jaron said. Himani, who had placed himself on a wooden chair almost too tall for him, let out a bright laugh. “That's because she hasn't told you, Ser Jaron. Go on, m'lady, tell him your beautiful name“, he said while his little legs dangled in the air. The girl rolled her eyes at him, a surprisingly delightful sight and looked at Jaron. “I don't have a real name, Ser Jaron. The Wise Masters never gave me one. The Burned Man calls me Harpy, after the Harpy of Yunkai. I'm his handmaiden“, she answered with a calm voice. Harpy? Now that was a... charming name. He was in the shabbiest neighbourhood of Oldtown, together with a smartass street urchin and a Ghiscari slave girl who was named after a monster, waiting to meet a Burned Man. The door started to get more and more appealing.
“Well then, Ser Jaron. Please, follow me. The Burned Man is in a meeting right now, but I'll show you our waiting room“, Harpy said, prompting Himani to standing up from his chair. “Wait! I did my part, m'lady Harpy. Where's my reward?“, he said. Harpy sighed, opened a small purse and handed him a few silver coins. The boys smile was actually almost contagious, all circumstances considered. “Thanks m'lady Harpy. Give my regards to the Burned Man“, the urchin said and turned to Jaron. “He isn't bad, the Burned Man. He is into some stuff that is not legal, yes, but thanks to him I have something to eat for the next week. Many of us would have been dead without his work. Give him a chance and you won't regret it!“, he said while walking past him and out of the door. The Hedge Knight looked after him.
“Well... So you and Himani get along?“, the girl asked. Jaron could barely contain a grin. Himani had taken another coin from her purse when Harpy wasn't paying attention. “Yes, I think I like him...“, Jaron said with a chuckle. Harpy raised an eyebrow. “You do? The Burned Man thinks he is annoying. But he gets the job done“ Jaron noticed her behaviour getting slowly more confident. She even made something that slightly resembled a smile, before turning around and moving towards a door. “You can stay in there. As soon as he has time for you, I'll come back“, she said before turning around and walking towards another room. Jaron looked after her. What was he doing exactly?
He slowly went into the room and was greeted by the smell of alcohol. The room wasn't very big, but surprisingly luxurious. It was decorated in a style that did not seem to be Westerosi. Bright tapestries in red and yellow where dominating the room. A small table was full of wine bottles. And on an ottoman in the corner of the room sat a very tall man, slightly on the heavy side, with the dark olive skin of the Ghiscari. He was bald, but sported a bushy black beard with a thick moustache and an unibrow. His massively muscled arms sported rather obscene tattoos and as soon as he saw Jaron he gave him a wide smile. “Well, hello there!“, he shouted with a thick Ghiscari accent and raised a bottle of wine. “You waiting for the Burned Man? Come over, grab a seat and drink with me!“, he shouted. No, that man had obviously no indoor voice.
Jaron came closer. Slowly. Carefully. That man was obviously drunken, but he seemed to be no threat. Still, Jaron had a bad experience with drunkards. “What is your name, boy?“, the Ghiscari asked before raising his bottle again.“Ah, but let me introduce myself first. The name is Bakr al-Astapori, merchant from Astapor, the great red city in Slaver's Bay“, he exclaimed.
Slaver's Bay... Jaron had heard only bad stories about it. Was this man a slaver? Weren't slavers supposed to mean-looking brutes? This man looked more like a dolt. And his smile seemed to be genuine. Well, being polite could only help his situation. “Ser Jaron the Bastard, Hedge Knight“, Jaron introduced himself and the other man handed him a bottle.
“The Burned Man speaks with my partner Abbas right now. I don't like this kind of backroom talking, so I opted to wait here and enjoy the generosity of our host. Now, if only Harpy could come again. I think she wanted to give me a massage, the Yunkish way, if you know what I mean...“, Bakr said and broke out in a joyful laughter. Something on this man seemed to be genuinely friendly. On the other hand, Jaron did not trust him. Ser Matthos hated the Ghiscari of Slaver's Bay with a passion. According to him they were all greedy and lying opportunists.
“So, Ser Jaron, why are you here?“, Bakr asked, while taking a big sip from his bottle
Jaron shrugged. “To be honest, I have no idea. This Burned Man wants to meet me for some reason...“, he answered. No... No don't think about that, don't ask... “Bakr... Why do they call him the “Burned Man“?“, Jaron blurted out. Seven Hells, now he asked. Maybe if he stopped liste... “Well, it's actually a funny story, you know? He wasn't always the Burned Man. Harpy knew him before. He might have a real name, can you imagine that?“, Bakr started to tell and Jaron couldn't stop listening. This was the stuff his nightmares were made from!
Rescue came in the form of Harpy, who opened the door again, interrupting Bakr in his tale. “The Burned Man is ready to see you, Ser Jaron“, she said with a slight smile. As Jaron was about to stand up in relief, Bakr grabbed his arm. “You haven't even drank anything with me! Shame...“, he exclaimed, sounding slightly disappointed. His face brightened up as he saw Harpy. “Harpy! Came to give me that massage?“, he asked with a lecherous smile. Jaron saw Harpys face and tried hard to choke his laughter. He failed, which resulted in a cold glare from the handmaiden. After a moment, Bakr joined him with his own boisterous and jovial laughter. “See you around Jaron!“, he said, giving his attention to another bottle of wine.
Harpy shivered as they left the room. “Sorry for leaving you with this... charming man in there. He and his partner work with the Burned Man on something“, she said with an apologetic look. She lead Jaron to another door, behind it a small corridor. How big was this house exactly?
A man walked down the corridor and came closer. In the first moment, Jaron thought it was the Burned Man. Then he realized it was another Ghiscari, a bit smaller than Bakr, but still very tall. His head was shaved and he had a beard not less impressive than Bakrs, albeit his was better maintained. The man took a small bow before Jaron and Harpy. “Ah... another guest in the Burned Mansion“, he said with a soft and calm voice, slightly chuckling over his terrible joke. His accent was far less noticeable than Bakrs. “My name is Abbas al-Yunkari, merchant and businesspartner of the Burned Man“. His dark eyes looked directly at Jaron, who felt slightly uncomfortable. “Ser Jaron the Bastard...“, he muttered. Abbas thin mouth formed a cold smile. “Glad to meet you, Ser Jaron...“, he said before walking past them. Jaron looked at Harpy, quite puzzled. “And what was that?“, he asked. “One of the Burned Mands friends from across the Narrow Sea. Bakrs partner“, she was quick to answer, without giving any more details.
Another door was opened. Another room was entered. This time, it was only scarcely illuminated. The room contained a large table, two chairs and three men. Two of them where tall and ripped men with the dark amber skin of the Dothraki. They stood behind a chair, in which a small man of about forty years sat. He looked completely normal, almost frightingly ordinary. His short brown hair was back-kempt, he was clean shaven and even paler than Harpy. His blue eyes were narrowed and he had the facial features of a man from Volantis. No burn scars anywhere on his face, in fact he could almost be considered handsome.
When the man put his hands on the table, Jaron winced. Now he knew without a doubt that he was speaking to the Burned Man. The left hand was crippled and twisted, completely black, like charcoal, with two fingers entirely missing. His right hand wasn't in a much better shape. While it still had the colour of flesh, it was horribly scarred. Two fingers seemed to be completely immobile as he raised his hand. “Ser Jaron. I'm glad you had the time to meet me...“, the Burned Man said, while waving for Jaron to come closer. His voice was a deep, melodic baritone. Jaron took a step closer and noticed that Harpy stood right behind him. Even though she could definitely be pleasant company, he felt rather threatened by it.
“You're likely asking yourself why I have asked you to come...“, the baritone voice said. With his right index finger, the Burned Man tapped on the wood of his table, an annoying, yet strangely melodic sound.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
“You're likely asking yourself what a man like Ser Matthos “The Kind“ has to do with someone like me...“
Tap. Tap. Tap.
“People are so quick to confuse a kind man with a good man. I can assure you, the venerable Ser Matthos was in many ways not a good man...“ With these words, the Burned Man stopped tapping and looked Jaron right in the eye.
The Hedge Knight felt wrath. They did not took his sword. It would be easy. He could chop his head off, end the life of this man who just insulted his mentor. What stopped him was the tought of the two Dothraki behind the Burned Man. And Harpy, right behind him.
“Ser Matthos was the best man I ever knew. He was honorable, brave and dutiful“, Jaron screwed out, while looking at him with rage.
The Burned Man smiled. It was a completely cold smile, without any joy in it. “Honor. The good man's disease. Bravery. The stupid man's disease. Duty. The blind man's disease. I have little regard for any of them. The fact is, that Ser Matthos was indeed a kind man, well-loved by anyone he met. This did not prevent him from borrowing a lot of money from me. In the good old days, before he took a squire he even worked for me. Now he is dead. And I know, I won't get my money back from you, you poor Hedge Knight“
The Burned Man leant forwards and Jaron took a step closer, Harpy still right behind him. The Dothraki didn't even moved a single muscle. Only as he was looking down, Jaron noticed that he had his hand on the hilt of his sword. “You are lying...“, he sputtered. He despised this crippled man. He despised him and his disgusting lies.
The Burned Man did not try to justify what he said. He just smiled. “Maybe. I know people like you. You are infected with Bravery and Honor and maybe even a bit of Duty. That is a dangerous combination. Nothing good ever comes out of it. You won't believe what I just said, even if I had proof. But I know what people like you truly desire...“ The Burned Man gave a sign with his hand and Harpy moved past Jaron and next to the Burned Man. She helped him up and he gave her a soft, almost tender look. Jaron realized that the man could hardly stand alone. The Burned Man followed Jarons shocked gaze and smiled. “The Wise Masters did this to me, when I tried to do something brave. Still, I hold no grudge against them. A grudge is a terrible thing to hold, sometimes even worse than bravery...“
With Harpys help, the Burned Man took a few steps closer, until he was able to look Jaron right in the eye. The Hedge Knight noticed that the Burned Man would have been very tall and very handsome, if it wasn't for his injuries. “What do you want from me?“, Jaron asked. He was breathing heavily and winced as the Burned Man put his right hand, his “good“ hand up and patted him on the shoulder. “You lost your mentor and I did not intend to mock him, or his memory. Ser Matthos might not have been a good man, but then, none of us are. He was better than the most, I can assure you that...“, he said, with an almost fatherly voice.
“I know what people like you want. It's always the same“, the Burned Man said and leaned closer. As he spoke directly in Jarons ear, he was almost whispering.“You want the world. You want to be the greatest knight that ever was. You want to win the heart of a fair princess... I can't give you anything of that. But I can bring you on a way, where you might be able to gain this on your own. All you need to do is repaying me, repaying Ser Matthos debt“
Jaron gulped. As he looked the Burned Man in the eyes he was expecting to see a sign of madness. Instead he saw the sanest man he had ever seen. “What do you want me to do? I have no money...“, Jaron said. The Burned Man gave him a short, almost sincere smile. “No. But you have talent. I am in need of a man like you. I need you to bring me something. I won't ask from you to slaughter innocents or something like that, I can assure you“
Jaron noticed that he was trembling. With excitement? With fear? He could not tell. But still, one question remained. “Why me?“, he asked.
The Burned Man grinned. “Why not? You are not in any way more special than anyone else, Ser Jaron. But Matthos believed in you. And I believe in Ser Matthos judgement. I am willing to give it a try. Should you succeed, you will be rewarded. The Burned Mans words have great influence in Reach. And you cleared the name of your mentor. Of course, you are also free to go now. I would be disappointed. And I'm sure Ser Matthos would be disappointed too...“
Jarons closed his eyes. This was it. The opportunity. But he always hoped for an opportunity a bit more... honorable. This man... He knew people like him. They were like wolves, and people like Jaron were the prey. Should he really get involved with this man? Still, this was the opportunity. And then there was the little thought in his head, still telling him that everyone who ever did something shady like this in his stories would wind up dead. But so did the brave, honorable and dutiful people outside of the stories.
[Work with the Burned Man][Refuse to work with the Burned Man]
Like I said before, this part will be split in two, due to the length. It would be easiest if you vote for both choices under this post!
Lyria
Lyria closed her eyes. By the Seven, why was she even considering this?
“Yes, Wolfius. We have an agreement...“, she muttered before taking the purse Woodbark offered her. The man had started to smile again, his cold, lifeless smile. This time it was directed at Rosalie.
The way he looked at her daughter... Lyria felt rage inside of her. She knew, it would be the best if she would just bash his head in. But she left the hammer in the backroom. And besides that, she was no killer. In all her life she only took one life. And that could hardly count as murder, since the man she killed was hardly a human being. Wolfius on the other hand... She was not sure what to make of him. Was he crazy, or was he just bizzare? Was he dangerous?
Woodbark took a step closer. “I'm going to need the dagger next week, blacksmith Mettel...“, he said, his voice trembling in anticipation. “Seven days. Can you make this?“
This time, Lyria met his gaze. Woodbark did not seem to look straight in her eye. Of course, his stare was focused on her, but he seemed to look at a point between her eyes or slightly above them. She noticed again, that he hadn't blinked once since he started the conversation. What kind of person does not blink? His cold gaze shifted from her to Rosalie, who stood in the corner, a bit confused about this affair.
“Seven days, Wolfius. It won't be easy, but I will make it. Come here again in seven days and I will give you the dagger“, Lyria finally said. She was a bit relieved that she managed to say it, but on the other hand she was worried. This man would come her forge again. She would have to speak to him again. And the worst part would be, he would meet Rosalie again.
Wolfius grin was unsettling and Lyria did not manage to look at him any longer. “Very good, blacksmith Mettel... Seven days and then you shall receive the rest of your payment... But remember, don't tell anyone. It will be our little secret“, he said, before taking an elegant bow in front of Rosalie.
“We will meet again“, he proclaimed, before turning around and leaving the forge. Lyria felt relieve overcoming her. She noticed she had almost held her breath in the last moments. Rosalie looked at her, visibly and understandably confused. “So... do you want to tell me what that was about?“, she asked. Rosalie did not seem to be affected by this encounter. At best, she seemed amused. That was always the biggest issue with Rosalies behaviour. She never took anything seriously. She never understood danger.
Lyria gave her daughter a soft smile. Usually she found it hard to show emotion when dealing with other people. But with Rosalie it was different. “I don't know, Rosie... I guess it was a customer“, she answered.
Rosalie looked to the door. Then she began to giggle. “Wolfius Woodbark... Is that really supposed to be a name? He sounds like one of these northern people“
Lyria remembered what Wolfius said “I don't think he is a northerner. Might not even be his real name, to be honest. And Rosie... This is no man you want to make fun about, trust me“
Rosalie stopped giggling and looked at her mother, this time a little bit more serious.“Do you think he is dangerous? Is he a criminal?“ Her blue eyes where filled with anticipation. Rosalie loved stories like this. She was interested in at least one of the village boys because he claimed that he once fought a highwayman to the death. But Wolfius was not like the men from her stories.
Lyria was silent for a moment. Was Wolfius dangerous? She couldn't tell. When she looked him in the eyes, she saw something she did not like. But he seemed to be broken. Yes, she was afraid of him. But she also felt pity. “I don't know if he is dangerous... But he has this look in his eyes. I don't think we should provoke him“, she finally answered. “Say Rosie, where have you been all morning? I could have used your help!“, she added reproachfully.
Rosalie shrugged. “First I went to the Sept. Septon Corbin gave a really boring sermon about the mercy of the Seven. Do you even know that the old Lord is dead?“
Lyria nodded.“I saw Richard earlier. He already knew it from his daughter. Besides, nobody could have missed the damn bells all morning long“, she scoffed. Rosalie smiled. “Oooh, you saw Richard earlier, huh? Is he courting you?“, she said with a slightly mocking voice. Lyria looked at her in shock. Richard Harking had been a family friend for years. He was a decent man and a widower, but he had great respect for her late husband. Besides that, she wasn't interested in a new relationship. Malcolm, her husband, had been her only love, at least until Rosalie was born. For years it was only the three of them. Until the Ironborn took him. No, she wasn't interested in a relationship. And she highly doubted that this was Richards intention. Rosalie let out a bright laugh.“Oh, you should have seen how your face just dropped, mother. Priceless! I'm just teasing you. Harking is too nice to go after a widow“, she said and immediately her smile stopped as she realised what she just said. “Mother I... I did not want to...“
Lyria knew, she should have been angry at what her daughter just said, but she wasn't. She took a step forward and gave her daughter a hug. “I miss father...“, Rosalie said and Lyria could see tears in her daughters eyes. She did not cry. She was unable to cry with other people around. Not even with Rosalie. “Shh Rosie. I miss him too...“, she said.
Rosalie calmed down quickly. That girl couldn't stay sad for long. “Have you been here the whole day?“, she asked. When Lyria nodded, Rosalie put up a shocked face. “Mother have mercy, you need to get out of this blasted house for once. We go to the market square, now!“ With these words she grabbed her mothers hand and pulled her out of the forge. Lyria did not resist agains that. She knew, Rosalie was right. She had to get out sometimes. But there was so many work to do. She had almost no friends in the village. Back when Malcolm was still alive, there were always people around her, people she called friends. After his death, she realized they had always been Malcolms friends. He had been a lot like Rosalie, making friends easily. Now she maintained a casual friendship with an old widow from across the street. Sometimes she talked to Richard, who rarely visited Raylansfair however. He was a farmer and spent most of his week on his farm, half a mile from the village. On other days she talked to Rosalies friends from the village. But on most days she had no one to talk, besides Rosalie. Maybe it was time to meet some people.
They walked down the small road from the forge, down to the market square. The square was the central point in the village. From there it was only a short walk to the Sept and an even shorter to the docks. Raylansfairs largest tavern, “The Tapping Pony“ was located there, as well as several stores. A cobbled street lead out of the village and up to the cliff on which the castle Raylansfair was located. Raylansfair-by-the-sea it was called. Should Ironborn raiders manage to overcome the Shield Islands, Raylansfair was always the first city they were raiding. But ever since Harren Hoare got into war with the Rock, the raids got less frequent. The last one had been six years ago.
The square was always populated, especially during these hours, but today it was crowded. Rosalie saw some of her friends and walked over to them, while Lyria looked around for any familiar face. Pale skin. Dead eyes. Was that Wolfius in the crowd? She blinked and he was gone. If it really had been him in the first place. Seven Hells, this blasted job really got on her nerves!
She felt a hand on her shoulder and turned around. Behind her stand Richard Harking. He was a somehow raggedy looking man with messy brown hair. In contrast, his beard was always neatly combed. He had a friendly smile. “Lyria, what a surprise! What convinced you to leave your forge?“, he greeted her. Lyria was still a bit startled. For one moment she had thought that he was Wolfius. What was wrong with her? Richard was one of the kindest persons in Raylansfair. And Wolfius hadn't done anything bad yet, right?
“Lyria? Is something the matter? You look... distraught...“, Richard said and he sounded genuinely worried. That was another thing with Richard. He was always caring and friendly, sometimes to the point where people got annoyed. But years ago she had seen him getting into a fight with a man who harassed his daughter, Jenna. He would do anything for his family. And he always seemed to know what to do. Maybe she should confide in him. But then she remembered what Wolfius said. She shouldn't tell anyone.
[Tell Richard about Wolfius][Don't tell Richard about Wolfius]
Like I said before, this part will be split in two, due to the length. It would be easiest if you vote for both choices under this post!
… more Lyria
Lyria closed her eyes. By the Seven, why was she even considering this?
“Yes, Wolfius. We have an agreement...“, she muttered before taking the purse Woodbark offered her. The man had started to smile again, his cold, lifeless smile. This time it was directed at Rosalie.
The way he looked at her daughter... Lyria felt rage inside of her. She knew, it would be the best if she would just bash his head in. But she left the hammer in the backroom. And besides that, she was no killer. In all her life she only took one life. And that could hardly count as murder, since the man she killed was hardly a human being. Wolfius on the other hand... She was not sure what to make of him. Was he crazy, or was he just bizzare? Was he dangerous?
Woodbark took a step closer. “I'm going to need the dagger… [view original content]
{Refuse to work with the burned man}, I feel if hes honourable he wouldnt even though he will likely get a knife through the neck the second he does
{Don't tell Richard about Wolfius} I feel as though the daft daughter will anyway however I feel if she does as instructed she should be fine, shes small folk there cant be any big plot for her.
Jaron
“Fine, Himani, lead the way. I don't think I have much of a choice in this, have I?“, Jaron said with a sigh. Himani gave him a bri… moreght smile. “Not if you're as clever as Ser Matthos!“, he said cheerfully. Now what was that supposed to mean? Jaron looked at the innkeeper's wife with an apologizing look. “Good woman, I am afraid I won't have time to eat this meal. Please, take care of my horse, I'll be back soon.“
With these words he stood up. Himani already walked to the door and Jaron had to struggle to follow the urchin. Was it really wise to follow this blasted boy? He quickly stepped out of the inn. Himani waited for him at a corner. It was the eraly afternoon, the sun was burning hot and the streets were crowded. “You don't need to worry about pickpockets, Ser Jaron“, Himani said, as if he had read Jarons thoughts. “Most of them know you're with me. I will warn you about ones who don't“ With these words he continued to walk do… [view original content]
Like I said before, this part will be split in two, due to the length. It would be easiest if you vote for both choices under this post!
… more Lyria
Lyria closed her eyes. By the Seven, why was she even considering this?
“Yes, Wolfius. We have an agreement...“, she muttered before taking the purse Woodbark offered her. The man had started to smile again, his cold, lifeless smile. This time it was directed at Rosalie.
The way he looked at her daughter... Lyria felt rage inside of her. She knew, it would be the best if she would just bash his head in. But she left the hammer in the backroom. And besides that, she was no killer. In all her life she only took one life. And that could hardly count as murder, since the man she killed was hardly a human being. Wolfius on the other hand... She was not sure what to make of him. Was he crazy, or was he just bizzare? Was he dangerous?
Woodbark took a step closer. “I'm going to need the dagger… [view original content]
I was suspecting that a third one was planned, from what you've written
I have some pretty cool plans for Abbas and Bakr and a third one will definitely be great to introduce later! In fact, Abbas and Bakr inspired me to do a completely new side story, albeit still connected to the main events
Like I said before, this part will be split in two, due to the length. It would be easiest if you vote for both choices under this post!
… more Lyria
Lyria closed her eyes. By the Seven, why was she even considering this?
“Yes, Wolfius. We have an agreement...“, she muttered before taking the purse Woodbark offered her. The man had started to smile again, his cold, lifeless smile. This time it was directed at Rosalie.
The way he looked at her daughter... Lyria felt rage inside of her. She knew, it would be the best if she would just bash his head in. But she left the hammer in the backroom. And besides that, she was no killer. In all her life she only took one life. And that could hardly count as murder, since the man she killed was hardly a human being. Wolfius on the other hand... She was not sure what to make of him. Was he crazy, or was he just bizzare? Was he dangerous?
Woodbark took a step closer. “I'm going to need the dagger… [view original content]
Thanks!
I was suspecting that a third one was planned, from what you've written
I have some pretty cool plans for Abbas and Bakr and … morea third one will definitely be great to introduce later! In fact, Abbas and Bakr inspired me to do a completely new side story, albeit still connected to the main events
This is the first time I am voting here, and I've never seen a fanfiction as well made like this, hopefully it stays that way, I will review when that chapter is over.
[Work with the Burned Man]
I know he seems a little suspicious, but Jaron need money.
[Tell Richard about Wolfius]
If something goes wrong, it's better have someone to help.
Like I said before, this part will be split in two, due to the length. It would be easiest if you vote for both choices under this post!
… more Lyria
Lyria closed her eyes. By the Seven, why was she even considering this?
“Yes, Wolfius. We have an agreement...“, she muttered before taking the purse Woodbark offered her. The man had started to smile again, his cold, lifeless smile. This time it was directed at Rosalie.
The way he looked at her daughter... Lyria felt rage inside of her. She knew, it would be the best if she would just bash his head in. But she left the hammer in the backroom. And besides that, she was no killer. In all her life she only took one life. And that could hardly count as murder, since the man she killed was hardly a human being. Wolfius on the other hand... She was not sure what to make of him. Was he crazy, or was he just bizzare? Was he dangerous?
Woodbark took a step closer. “I'm going to need the dagger… [view original content]
Like I said before, this part will be split in two, due to the length. It would be easiest if you vote for both choices under this post!
… more Lyria
Lyria closed her eyes. By the Seven, why was she even considering this?
“Yes, Wolfius. We have an agreement...“, she muttered before taking the purse Woodbark offered her. The man had started to smile again, his cold, lifeless smile. This time it was directed at Rosalie.
The way he looked at her daughter... Lyria felt rage inside of her. She knew, it would be the best if she would just bash his head in. But she left the hammer in the backroom. And besides that, she was no killer. In all her life she only took one life. And that could hardly count as murder, since the man she killed was hardly a human being. Wolfius on the other hand... She was not sure what to make of him. Was he crazy, or was he just bizzare? Was he dangerous?
Woodbark took a step closer. “I'm going to need the dagger… [view original content]
Jaron
“Fine, Himani, lead the way. I don't think I have much of a choice in this, have I?“, Jaron said with a sigh. Himani gave him a bri… moreght smile. “Not if you're as clever as Ser Matthos!“, he said cheerfully. Now what was that supposed to mean? Jaron looked at the innkeeper's wife with an apologizing look. “Good woman, I am afraid I won't have time to eat this meal. Please, take care of my horse, I'll be back soon.“
With these words he stood up. Himani already walked to the door and Jaron had to struggle to follow the urchin. Was it really wise to follow this blasted boy? He quickly stepped out of the inn. Himani waited for him at a corner. It was the eraly afternoon, the sun was burning hot and the streets were crowded. “You don't need to worry about pickpockets, Ser Jaron“, Himani said, as if he had read Jarons thoughts. “Most of them know you're with me. I will warn you about ones who don't“ With these words he continued to walk do… [view original content]
Like I said before, this part will be split in two, due to the length. It would be easiest if you vote for both choices under this post!
… more Lyria
Lyria closed her eyes. By the Seven, why was she even considering this?
“Yes, Wolfius. We have an agreement...“, she muttered before taking the purse Woodbark offered her. The man had started to smile again, his cold, lifeless smile. This time it was directed at Rosalie.
The way he looked at her daughter... Lyria felt rage inside of her. She knew, it would be the best if she would just bash his head in. But she left the hammer in the backroom. And besides that, she was no killer. In all her life she only took one life. And that could hardly count as murder, since the man she killed was hardly a human being. Wolfius on the other hand... She was not sure what to make of him. Was he crazy, or was he just bizzare? Was he dangerous?
Woodbark took a step closer. “I'm going to need the dagger… [view original content]
I guess that Jaron should, I'm worried that the Burned Man will do something otherwise.
Speaking of the Burned Man, I have to say, he reminded me a hell of a lot of the Crooked Man from The Wolf Among Us, all the way from his name down to his disfigured-ness. I digress, I liked Jaron a bit more than I did in his first chapter. I agree with the Burned Man; Himani is pretty annoying XD. Harpy is a good addition however, and I have a feeling that Jaron will eventually get a message from her Bakr and Abbas were good additions (especially Bakr).
Anyways, I enjoyed this more than his last chapter!
Jaron
“Fine, Himani, lead the way. I don't think I have much of a choice in this, have I?“, Jaron said with a sigh. Himani gave him a bri… moreght smile. “Not if you're as clever as Ser Matthos!“, he said cheerfully. Now what was that supposed to mean? Jaron looked at the innkeeper's wife with an apologizing look. “Good woman, I am afraid I won't have time to eat this meal. Please, take care of my horse, I'll be back soon.“
With these words he stood up. Himani already walked to the door and Jaron had to struggle to follow the urchin. Was it really wise to follow this blasted boy? He quickly stepped out of the inn. Himani waited for him at a corner. It was the eraly afternoon, the sun was burning hot and the streets were crowded. “You don't need to worry about pickpockets, Ser Jaron“, Himani said, as if he had read Jarons thoughts. “Most of them know you're with me. I will warn you about ones who don't“ With these words he continued to walk do… [view original content]
Woops, didn't read the part about voting here instead, so I'll just copy and paste the other bit.
[Work with the Burned Man]
I guess that Jaron should, I'm worried that the Burned Man will do something otherwise.
Speaking of the Burned Man, I have to say, he reminded me a hell of a lot of the Crooked Man from The Wolf Among Us, all the way from his name down to his disfigured-ness. I digress, I liked Jaron a bit more than I did in his first chapter. I agree with the Burned Man; Himani is pretty annoying XD. Harpy is a good addition however, and I have a feeling that Jaron will eventually get a message from her Bakr and Abbas were good additions (especially Bakr).
Anyways, I enjoyed this more than his last chapter!
[Tell Richard about Wolfius]
As long as he doesn't go blabbing on about him, it shouldn't be a concern to anyone.
Also, THE HARKINGS AND THEIR MAGICAL QUEST FOR FARMING IS HERE! Good work here, and I enjoyed the setup for the "will they or wont they" relationship between the two. Rosalie seems genuinely concerned for her mother, so I respect that.
Good chapter, there honestly isn't much for me to say here, so continue on!
Like I said before, this part will be split in two, due to the length. It would be easiest if you vote for both choices under this post!
… more Lyria
Lyria closed her eyes. By the Seven, why was she even considering this?
“Yes, Wolfius. We have an agreement...“, she muttered before taking the purse Woodbark offered her. The man had started to smile again, his cold, lifeless smile. This time it was directed at Rosalie.
The way he looked at her daughter... Lyria felt rage inside of her. She knew, it would be the best if she would just bash his head in. But she left the hammer in the backroom. And besides that, she was no killer. In all her life she only took one life. And that could hardly count as murder, since the man she killed was hardly a human being. Wolfius on the other hand... She was not sure what to make of him. Was he crazy, or was he just bizzare? Was he dangerous?
Woodbark took a step closer. “I'm going to need the dagger… [view original content]
Gold. Yes Gold would be great. He lost his last money in this blasted tavern brawl. On the other hand, the chance to get a bit closer to this priestess would be priceless... And his curiosity finally got the better of him. “This truth... what would it be?“, he asked.
Noelle gave him an approving look. “The Lord of Light has given us many gifts, but the most valuable is fire, the essence of R'hllor. You will look into the fire and the fire will look into you. And if the Lord of Light deems you worthy, you will see something“, she explained.
Marak looked at her, quite confused. This was not a real explanation. “So my payment for being your bodyguard from here to Reach is that I get to look into a little campfire?“ That was not impressive, not at all. Maybe he should have just taken the gold, or even better, maybe he should have minded his own business and not gotten involved in any way with this priestess and her rollmop. But it was a bit late for that.
Noelle seemed to be indignant by this. “You make it seem like everyone could do this“, she said, her voice sounding slightly offended. “Do you want to see the truth now?“
Marak shrugged. Now, if she was offering he wouldn't decline. On the other hand, the small possibility that she could try to curse him was still slightly repelling him. He took a deep breath. He had iron in his blood. He would not back out of this. He was definitely not scared by a single woman. “Show me the truth, Lady Noelle!“, he exclaimed.
The Red Priestess gave him a pleased smile. “This will be interesting, for both of us. I'm not sure what you will see. If you even see something. The Red God favours only few. There are days where even I don't see his ways“, she explained. Now that was certainly encouraging!
She turned around.“Come with me, tough guy!“, she commanded him and Marak followed her, like a trained dog. Blackhaven wasn't a large village, even though the marcher lords of House Dondarrion had their seat there. It did not took long until Noelle reached a small house. It looked abandoned “This is where I stay for the night“, she explained. Marak let out a small chuckle. “You sleep in that house? Aren't you afraid of bandits or worse?“, he asked. Noelle raised an eyebrow and looked at him, slightly surprised. “I always forget that I am not in Braavos anymore. It is true that the night is dark and full of terror, but he who walks with the Lord of Light shall fear no night“, she explained. “Besides... dealing with these things is part of your job, right?“, she added with a slight smile.
Without another word, she entered the house, Marak right behind her. The Ironborn was slightly surprised that the abandoned house was actually neatly illuminated once he stepped inside. The windows were darkened, but Noelle had put many candles inside. A small brazier was located on a table in the center of the room. Marak noticed other things. A backpack, likely containing Noelles personal belongings. A small bottle.
“I need you to sit in front of the brazier. Just relax, tough guy. You don't have to fear the fire. Only fear the cold“, Noelle said before grabbing the battle and pouring its content, an oily fluid, into the brazier. Marak gulped. He never experienced witchcraft before, but that surely felt like it. But nonetheless, he did as he was told and sat down in front of the brazier. Noelle walked behind him and when he felt something in his back, he noticed that she knelt directly behind him and grabbed him by the shoulder. He could feel her warmth. By the drowned god, it was a cold night and she was only wearing this thin dress. She shouldn't be warmer than him! The whole situation was a bit uncomfortable for Marak, who has never been that close to a woman without trying to kill or trying to fuck her.
“I said you have to relax...“, she softly whispered in his ear. And in this moment, Marak wanted to do nothing more than to relax. It should have been easy. The candle light was nice. It was warm. And Noelle could have been certainly nice company, if it weren't for her crazy talks and the fact that something was very off-setting about her. He heard her whispering strange words he did not understand. Was that the language of the Asshai'i? It sounded oddly relaxing. He saw one of her hands movin into his field of sight, throwing something in the brazier.
A darting flame shot up to the ceiling, almost scorching Maraks beard and in this moment he understood what Noelle was saying. “Look into the flames, Marak“, she whispered. And he looked. At first he saw nothing, but bright flames. Noelle began to speak in Asshai'i again, a melodic, almost singing sound. Marak looked deeper into the flames, until his eyes hurt and until he saw black shadows dancing in the corner of his eyes. And then he saw...
...fire...
...a field of flowers, some bright and beautiful, some black and twisted, a swarm of black and orange butterflies flying over them, destroying them, leaving only the rotten behind...
...a red lion fighting a serpent at rainfall, the lion wounding the serpent, the serpent wounding the lion “Your line ends today!“, screams the serpent and plungs its teeth into the lion...
...a winged woman on a yellow mountain, holding a golden whip, screaming for vengeance...
...lions and stags and squids and falcons fighting over a golden book, tearing it asunder, burning it to the ground...
...a man wearing a bloody black crown, crying over four dead bodies, watching the sunrise...
...a silver-haired man standing next to a winged shadow, the shadow spitting fire in the air and burning, burning, burning everything...
...an endless wasteland, two armies fighting, a silver sun moving across the sky burning everything in it's path, one of the seven hells itself, until the silver sun falls from the sky and leaves only ruins and dead bodies, everything fallen...
...everything falls, everything breaks, castles breaking, smallfolk breaking, dragons breaking, crowned men breaking, a broken man on a throne of swords, everything consumed by the fire, an old king with a mad gaze, yelling to burn them all, a lion attacking him, but still everything burns, consumed by fire, red fire, green fire
...and finally he saw himself, standing on board of his ship, only days after he murdered his father. He felt good in these days. He was a captain, a feared raider. And he was boozy like never before. Yes, he murdered his father for a ship. And he felt no regret, at least not in this moment, not in this stormy night. Life was simple, life was good. Except... His brother... he knew the truth...
...Marak saw himself getting pushed overboard, in his drunken rage he grabbed his brother and dragged him off with him. Marak saw himself, how he pushed his brother under the water, to keep afloat himself, but also in a murdering fit of rage...
...Rage...
...and he flipped around, grabbing the Red Priestess by the neck with his left hand and started to choke her. “What have you done to me?“, he screamed at the top of his lungs, tears of rage flowing down his face. He did not want to think about that, he did not want to relive this memories. He wasn't ashamed and he did not want to become ashamed. But she, she made him remember!
Noelle gasped and wheezed and winced, while Marak was choking her, choking the life out or her sorry throat. Yes, now he was in his element. Killing was something he was good at. Breaking her, killing her.
“What have you done!“, he screamed again. She bewitched him, she cursed him, she made him see all this, this dreams of fire, this things he did not want to regret! Noelle still gasped for air and this time Marak lessened his grip on her neck.
“I know you are confused, tough guy...“, she started, but Marak interrupted her. “It's Marak! Call me tough guy one more time and I will break your fucking neck!“, he screamed, tightening his grip again, before throwing her on the ground like a piece of trash. He looked at the brazier, still burning, but with ordinary flames now. It was over. The witches curse was broken.
Noelle coughed. “What have you seen, Marak?“, she asked. Her voice was hoarsy and her face was red and she was clearly afraid. Still, Marak felt compassion and curiosity in her words.
“You know what I have seen. What you have made me seen!“, he said, but he did not have the strength to scream again. Instead he felt tears flowing down his face. What has this woman done to him? Noelle shook her head. “The Lord of Light showed you this things. I only helped you in recognizing them... Tell me, what have you seen?“
Marak took a deep breath. “Dying people. Dead people. Flowers and Lions and Serpents. Dying kings. A broken king. And I saw fire. Fire, burning everything, destroying and breaking... I saw my past...“, he said weakly. To his surprise, Noelle gave him a weak, but sincere smile. “The Lord of Light gave you a gift, Marak. He showed you the future. I was not expecting this, to be honest. Not from you. You need to tell me everything. It could be important“
Marak closed his eyes. He was confused. And he was angry. Never before had he felt such a need to break something, to destroy something, to kill something. To burn something.
He opened his eyes again. And started to tell her everything.
Lucas
“Come on Flowers, you haven't talked to me for hours. Still mad about that?“, Leonard said while looking at Lucas. Lucas sighed and rubbed his bruises. He took a good beating from Ser Ilhan after Leonard had tricked him into a sparring match. And even though they were only fighting with training swords, Lucas was cluttered with bruises. Ser Ilhan had shown no mercy. At least Lucas had managed to deliver a fierce blow to Ser Ilhans left arm. The master-at-arms' riposte almost knocked him out though. The worst part however was that he did not find any time to inform Ser Ilhan of what he had just found out. Harris had always watched them. And after the fight he insisted that Lucas and Leonard would leave immediately and go after Dairon.
Somehow Lucas could understand why Harris would hide the sheet of paper. Should Ser Ilhan or anyone else get to know about this, they would try everything to fullfill Lord Roberts last wish. Ser Ilhan was loyal to the House, but always to the man at first. Septon Corbin and Lady Halla did not care for the well-being of the house as long as they could keep their positions. Only Harris would put his personal feelings below his loyalty to House Raylan. A small part inside of Lucas understood him, even thought he was right. But what about Maester Eaton? The old Maester had known Lord Raylan the longest, even longer than Harris. Would he betray his friend like this? And would Harris be able to kill Eaton and Lord Robert? Lucas had always felt respect for Harris, but if the castellan was behind this, he could never forgive him.
But first they had to find Dairon. Harris gave them the two fastest horses in Raylansfair and urged them to move immediately. They had been riding the whole day, until nightfall, where they made a camp near the road. Leonard made a fire, while Lucas was resting his maltreated bones. He was torn. He felt friendship to Harris. He felt loyalty to House Raylan. And Harris was acting Lord Raylan until a new Lord was chosen. But still... he had to find out what Harris did. How he was involved in all this.
“Hey Flowers! You hear me? Or are we into ignoring each other again?“, Leonard exclaimed, leading Lucas to look up. Leonard gave him a slight smile “You know I had to do it, don't you? It seemed to be the right thing at that moment“, he said.
Lucas shook his head. “I know. You did right. Still doesn't mean I'm not mad at you... Lenny“, he explained. Leonard gave him a short glare, but then let out a short laugh. “Ah, come on Flowers. And I was starting to think you might not be that bad after all. You're giving me silence from now on, just because I gave you a good excuse when you needed one?“, he said, still chuckling.
“That's not it... I mean, yes I am pretty mad about that. The Impaler got me pretty bad“, he said, while holding a particularly bad bruise on his right shoulder. Leonard gave him a really wicked smile. What a bastard! “If it's not that, then why are you so silent?“, he asked.
Lucas closed his eyes. Now or never. Could he really trust Leonard? The other knight had proven himself to be a valuable ally. Without his help, he wouldn't have found the sheet. But could he trust him enough for that? What he had found wasn't meant to get into the wrong hands. But whose hands were the wrong? Ser Harris would ignore the sheet, ignore Lord Raylans last will. Lord Hightower would gladly oblige. But what was the best cause of action here?
Then there was Dairon. The boy was wanted for a murder he likely never commited. He was on the run, they had found out that much. A farmer saw him in the early morning hours, riding like there was no tomorrow. A patrol had spoken to him and noticed the boy was nervous and on the verge of breaking down. He had said that he needed to get to Oldtown. And very likely he had the sheet of paper with him, containing Lord Robert Raylans last wish. Lucas highly doubted that Dairon killed Maester Eaton. But what if Eaton told him something, something that costed him his life? Something that prompted Harris to call for a hunt on the poor boy? Or what if it was even worse? What if there was more than one person involved? Harris, maybe Lord Hightower, maybe even more...
No. He could not take the risk of telling no one. Should something happen to him, what he found out would be lost. He had to tell someone. And right now, Leonard was the only one available. He took a deep breath. If he was wrong about trusting Leonard, he would have doomed himself. And maybe even House Raylan.
“It is about what I found in Harris' chambers...“, he said. Leonard looked up, visibly interested in this. “So now you're telling me? What caused the change of heart?“, he asked.
Lucas shook his head. “I had no change of heart. I wanted to tell Ser Ilhan. But I won't speak to him for days, if not weeks. And should something happen to me, he has to know. Someone else has to tell him“, he answered and gave Leonard a stern look.
The other knight nodded in agreement. “You can trust me Lucas. I swear it, to all of the gods, should something happen to you, I'll be the one to give your message to Ser Ilhan“, he answered. Lucas thought about that for a moment. Leonard wasn't a man who gave promises like that easily. But he was a skilled talker...
“I found a traced sheet of paper in Harris' chamber. It was written by Maester Eaton, the night he and Lord Raylan had died“, he finally started to explain and took out the sheet of paper from his pockets. “I'm going to read it to you, okay?“ Leonard gave him a short nod. Lucas cleared his throat.
“To Lord Manfred Hightower, Lord of Oldtown,
So many years have passed, since we've talked the last time, my old friend. You wanted to buy the archive on behalf of your citadel. Once again. I rebuffed you. Once again. You got angry. I got angry. We both said things we shouldn't have. And let me make one thing clear: I will never forgive some of the things you said about Morna and Trystane. But I am dying, Manfred, and I am weak. Too weak to even write my own last will. The Faith told us to forgive our enemies before we die. So, that's what I will do. I will forgive what you said about me. And I hope that you can forgive what I said about you. I apologize on behalf of Trystane for humiliating you on Tarlys Tournament. I apologize on behalf of Morna, for mocking you on King Gardeners summer ball. I apologize, for my stupidity and my pride poisoned my heart. And in turn I wish that you will help me. My house has few friends, but many enemies. And not all of them have been civil like you. I'm not just talking about the Ironborn here. I'm talking about the other Lords of the Reach. I'm talking about forces in your own city. People seeking to destroy not only my house, but the whole Kingdom. I am not powerful enough to stop them. And House Raylan isn't powerful enough to defend itself against them. But you would be, Lord Hightower. And this is why I want to name you Lord of Raylansfair. I am the last Raylan, my line ends with me. I want you to take the blasted archive. Take it to the Citadel and keep it safe. Or even better, burn it to the ground. I should have done that years ago. There won't be a new Lord Raylan. I wish for my village nothing more but to stay small and unnoticed. I want House Raylan to be gone. My house has been dying for the last fourty years. It is time it comes to an end. I am not asking for anything more, Manfred. Destroy House Raylan if you must, but keep my people safe“
Lucas looked at Leonard, who just sat there, in complete shock. “Why in all the Seven Hells did Lord Raylan wanted to destroy his own house?“, the other knight finally managed to stutter.
End of Chapter I: Dark Wings, Dark Words
Your Choices:
Investigation: Lucas decided to search Harris' chambers
Business: Lyria decided to accept Wolfius' comission
Payment: Marak decided to learn the truth from Noelle
Defiance: Torvin decided to help Lord Tully against Harren Hoare
Opportunity: Jaron decided to work with the Burned Man
“This is my choice, brother. This won't affect you, so stay out of it!“, Torvin growled.
Garthon looked at him with cold rage and disappointment. “You say it won't affect me? Have you forgotten all the things I already had to do for you? In the end it is always me! It is always me, fixing the things you have broken with your damned pride and your obstinacy! And you... you don't even care. You will kill us both and it doesn't even matter for you, as long as you can restore our fucking honor!“
Lannister looked at him with a stony face. “We need Lord Raylan to hold the promise he gave us. We need his troops!“, he said with a stern face. Willfred looked at the king in confusion. “My king, I don't understand. Is the war really so bad that we need the troops of such a small house?“, he asked
Loren sighed. “I'm afraid it is even worse...“, he mumbled and his face got a sorrowful expression.
“I'm glad you are here to help me, Ser Jaron. I admit, I am in no way a good man. But there are people fighting over this city, fighting over this kingdom, who are far worse than anything you can imagine“, the Burned Man said,while shivering from the pain. “These people will gladly walk on the corpses of millions to achieve their goals. I despise bravery. It is mankinds biggest sin. But we can't let these people win. I'm afraid that to stop them, we have to be brave, we have to be heroes for once. That is what you always wanted, right?“
Richard looked over at the other table. The man was deadly pale, with bedraggled blond hair and dead grey eyes. Richard had never seen him before. And he did not like the way this man was looking at the barmaid. Right in that moment, the stranger turned his head and looked at Richard, with a cold smile, a smile so bare of any emotion that Richard shivered.
Maya looked at the lord in confusion. “Mylord Royce, this Raylansfair lies at the other end of Westeros. Is it really that important?“ Lord Royce let out a loud laugh, not a jovial one, but one full of mockery. “Sweet child, we couldn't care less for Raylansfair. What the Queen Regent really wants is something from the archive. Something that will ensure the Vales safety for centuries...“, he said, while giving her a wicked smile.
“Jaron the Bastard?“, the tall man asked with a wicked smile, while he was drawing his sword. Jaron turned around and saw two other men blocking the alleyway. “There has been some talk on the streets. People say you work for that burned cripple now... That was the wrong choice, Bastard...“, the tall man hissed, while coming closer.
Jenna stopped. That was wrong. That would get her into trouble. But curiosity got the better of her. She heard two men arguing. Ser Ilhans voice was distinctive. And... was that Ser Harris? Lord Harris, she corrected herself. He was a Lord now. “Who gave you the right to decide in this matter, Harris Flowers?“, Ilhan shouted. For a short moment there was silence, but then Jenna heard the Lord speaking. “I am your Lord, Ser Ilhan. You will never speak to me like that again, do you understand? I am the Lord of Raylansfair, and I intend to stay so!“
Forum of Thrones, Act I, Chapter II: Broken Vows, Coming Soon!
I am curious about the priestess and why she has such an interest in the guy, unless she really is just weak however surely there were better mercenary options than him. That vision is foreshadowing im guessing so ill have to pay attention for that
I have to admit though the other two are just sort of... meh. I dont really have much interest in either yet compared to the others. The reveal was decent however surely this is what would have happened anyway , the land being given to a neighbouring lord
Marak
Gold. Yes Gold would be great. He lost his last money in this blasted tavern brawl. On the other hand, the chance to get a bit clos… moreer to this priestess would be priceless... And his curiosity finally got the better of him. “This truth... what would it be?“, he asked.
Noelle gave him an approving look. “The Lord of Light has given us many gifts, but the most valuable is fire, the essence of R'hllor. You will look into the fire and the fire will look into you. And if the Lord of Light deems you worthy, you will see something“, she explained.
Marak looked at her, quite confused. This was not a real explanation. “So my payment for being your bodyguard from here to Reach is that I get to look into a little campfire?“ That was not impressive, not at all. Maybe he should have just taken the gold, or even better, maybe he should have minded his own business and not gotten involved in any way with this priestess and her rollmop. But it … [view original content]
You wrote an exciting start, encouraging me to read the rest of the story, I liked the drama that you added in the death of Lord and maester, was well detailed and easy to understand. Next, you started writing the history of each character, showing who they were and forcing them to choose hazardous choices, making me even more anxious for the next part. The only thing I did not like the story was reading be tiring and some things I did not understand. Overall the story was very detailed and dramatic, like a fanfiction Game of Thrones must be, well described characters and exciting moments. I'll give this a 9.5/10, the best fanfiction I've ever read, I hope it stays that way.
I hope the next chapter has more death, and I also would like to know more about each character.
Marak
Gold. Yes Gold would be great. He lost his last money in this blasted tavern brawl. On the other hand, the chance to get a bit clos… moreer to this priestess would be priceless... And his curiosity finally got the better of him. “This truth... what would it be?“, he asked.
Noelle gave him an approving look. “The Lord of Light has given us many gifts, but the most valuable is fire, the essence of R'hllor. You will look into the fire and the fire will look into you. And if the Lord of Light deems you worthy, you will see something“, she explained.
Marak looked at her, quite confused. This was not a real explanation. “So my payment for being your bodyguard from here to Reach is that I get to look into a little campfire?“ That was not impressive, not at all. Maybe he should have just taken the gold, or even better, maybe he should have minded his own business and not gotten involved in any way with this priestess and her rollmop. But it … [view original content]
Marak
Gold. Yes Gold would be great. He lost his last money in this blasted tavern brawl. On the other hand, the chance to get a bit clos… moreer to this priestess would be priceless... And his curiosity finally got the better of him. “This truth... what would it be?“, he asked.
Noelle gave him an approving look. “The Lord of Light has given us many gifts, but the most valuable is fire, the essence of R'hllor. You will look into the fire and the fire will look into you. And if the Lord of Light deems you worthy, you will see something“, she explained.
Marak looked at her, quite confused. This was not a real explanation. “So my payment for being your bodyguard from here to Reach is that I get to look into a little campfire?“ That was not impressive, not at all. Maybe he should have just taken the gold, or even better, maybe he should have minded his own business and not gotten involved in any way with this priestess and her rollmop. But it … [view original content]
So, that was Chapter I! I had tremendous fun writing it and I shall begin with writing for the next chapter tomorrow. But for now, I have a few questions I'd like to ask you. It would be helpful, but not required, if you can give a short explanation:
1) Who is your favourite Point-of-view so far?
2) Who is your least favourite Point of view so far?
3) Who is your favourite character so far (can be the same as in 1)?
4) Who is your least favourite character so far (can be the same as in 2)?
5) What has been your favourite part of the fanfiction so far?
6) Is there something you would advice me to make better in future parts?
So, that was Chapter I! I had tremendous fun writing it and I shall begin with writing for the next chapter tomorrow. But for now, I have a … morefew questions I'd like to ask you. It would be helpful, but not required, if you can give a short explanation:
1) Who is your favourite Point-of-view so far?
2) Who is your least favourite Point of view so far?
3) Who is your favourite character so far (can be the same as in 1)?
4) Who is your least favourite character so far (can be the same as in 2)?
5) What has been your favourite part of the fanfiction so far?
6) Is there something you would advice me to make better in future parts?
So, that was Chapter I! I had tremendous fun writing it and I shall begin with writing for the next chapter tomorrow. But for now, I have a … morefew questions I'd like to ask you. It would be helpful, but not required, if you can give a short explanation:
1) Who is your favourite Point-of-view so far?
2) Who is your least favourite Point of view so far?
3) Who is your favourite character so far (can be the same as in 1)?
4) Who is your least favourite character so far (can be the same as in 2)?
5) What has been your favourite part of the fanfiction so far?
6) Is there something you would advice me to make better in future parts?
Okay Im really bad with names so anywayi'll just use examples
Female blacksmith; Lyria (smallfolk are always fun to read about) plus im a bit more engaged about her role in it. The guy with the burned man reminds me of Dany in that hes so far away though I like his POV's too
Lucas? I get hes the big storyline and he'll amount to more but still
Sounds bad but I like that psycho king in the riverlands, I think we need a few more meaner characters everyone seems a bit nicey nicey
Lenny, but eh I dont really dislike anyone especially
I liked the intro and I also liked ther riverlands part and the burned man stuff.
Maybe a little more action I know its slow and I like it however there's been nothing but the intro and even that was a bit low. I still dont need constant death or anything though, and I know its interactive but maybe lessen choices a little. If you have a narrative in your head I feel like we mess it up by making choices. Dont get me wrong its cool however its your story still. Maybe a few key ones.
So, that was Chapter I! I had tremendous fun writing it and I shall begin with writing for the next chapter tomorrow. But for now, I have a … morefew questions I'd like to ask you. It would be helpful, but not required, if you can give a short explanation:
1) Who is your favourite Point-of-view so far?
2) Who is your least favourite Point of view so far?
3) Who is your favourite character so far (can be the same as in 1)?
4) Who is your least favourite character so far (can be the same as in 2)?
5) What has been your favourite part of the fanfiction so far?
6) Is there something you would advice me to make better in future parts?
Comments
10/10!
[Work with Tully]
[Let Leonard accompany you on your search.]
[Work with Tully]
[Let Leonard accompany you on your search]
[Work with Lord Tully]
[Let Leonard accompany you on your search]
The Voting is closed! And it was completely unanimous this time
Torvin will work with Lord Tully against Harren Hoare
Leonard will accompany Lucas on his search for Dairon
The new chapter is about halfway done and should be up later today
Here's a question: will we see Aegon and his sisters at some point?
Very likely, should the story go that long!
I'm sorry. The new part was supposed to be up yesterday, but while I was writing, the part got longer and longer. So far, it is the longest part and will likely be posted in two posts. It is 3/4 done and will be up in the next 3 hours!
I am also sad to announce that someone sent me the first character I actually won't accept. The noble Sir Jar-Jar of Binks (I'm not kidding you, that is indeed a submitted character) won't be accepted into the story for two reasons:
Sorry for that, creator of Sir Jar-Jar. Had you left your name, while submitting, I could have contacted you directly. Please, feel free to submit another character, I got a good laugh out of this one!
And in general, there is one rule in the character creation I have not mentioned: Your character can't be a White Walker, Children of the Forest, Giant, Grumkin, Snark, Lizardman of Sothoryos, Dragon or Gungan. Stick with humans, they are versatile enough
LMAO XDDD
Whoever suggested this desires a gold star.
I love whoever sent that.
Jaron
“Fine, Himani, lead the way. I don't think I have much of a choice in this, have I?“, Jaron said with a sigh. Himani gave him a bright smile. “Not if you're as clever as Ser Matthos!“, he said cheerfully. Now what was that supposed to mean? Jaron looked at the innkeeper's wife with an apologizing look. “Good woman, I am afraid I won't have time to eat this meal. Please, take care of my horse, I'll be back soon.“
With these words he stood up. Himani already walked to the door and Jaron had to struggle to follow the urchin. Was it really wise to follow this blasted boy? He quickly stepped out of the inn. Himani waited for him at a corner. It was the eraly afternoon, the sun was burning hot and the streets were crowded. “You don't need to worry about pickpockets, Ser Jaron“, Himani said, as if he had read Jarons thoughts. “Most of them know you're with me. I will warn you about ones who don't“ With these words he continued to walk down the streets, the Hedge Knight followed him closely, always one hand on his purse.
Jaron didn't knew Oldtown very well and soon was completely lost. The only thing he could tell was, that Himani lead him closer to the sea. And closer to the Tower. The Hightower, seat of the house by the same name and visible from every point in the city, came consistently closer, until Himani finally left the smaller roads and stepped onto Oldtowns main street. From here, the Hightower with its famous lighthouse on top could be seen directly, without any buildings partially blocking the view. Even though it wasn't the first time Jaron had seen the Tower, he was taken aback for a moment by how tall it really was. Ser Matthos once told him that it was the tallest building in Westeros, even taller than the Wall. It's foundations were likely built by the ancient Valyrians, though more disturbing rumours told about ancient ruins under the tower, ruins predating the arrival of men in Westeros.
Himani followed the main street for a while and for a short moment Jaron actually suspected that the boy was going to lead him to the Tower himself, or at the very least to one of the fancy mansions that surrounded it. But finally the boy took another turn into a smaller side road that lead down to the port. While the main street was crowded with people, this side street was almost empty and nearly as luxuriously built. During this time of the day, the Hightower shadowed over this part of the city, leaving it in a somber and eery twilight. Some of the cities poorer citizens obviously came here to cool down from the hot autumn sun. Finally, Himani stopped in front of a small, two-storied building. Jaron noticed a crude drawing next to the door, looking like a woman with wings and a tail. “We're here, Ser Jaron. It's time to meet the Burned Man“, Himani said, almost with awe in his voice.
Jaron gulped. “One question Himani... Why is he called “Burned Man“?“ Seven Hells why did he ask that? He did not want to know that!
Himani smiled. “You will see, Ser Jaron“, he said in an ominous tone. Right... As if that makes it any better. Jaron always had a good imagination, but right now he was cursing it.
The urchin stepped to the door and knocked on it. After a few moments, Jaron could hear the door getting unlocked. A young woman opened the door, a pale girl, maybe in Jarons age with long and very dark brown hair and oddly red highlights. She gave Jaron a frightened look, but seemed to calm down as she saw Himani.
“Did anyone follow you?“, she asked the boy. Jaron noticed the hint of an accent in her voice. It sounded foreign, maybe from the Free Cities, maybe even Ghiscari. At least the hair colour looked Ghiscari. The boy shook his head and the girl let out a sigh of relief. With a hand gesture she waved Jaron and Himani in the house. Jaron was a bit disappointed for a moment. The Burned Man's house looked like a completely ordinary commoners house, maybe a bit better furnished. The girl stepped next to him and grabbed him by the arm.
“If you want to leave, now is your last chance..“, she said with a pleading tone. Jaron looked at the door and for a moment he wanted nothing more than to leave. This wasn't right. This would not end well. But Ser Matthos was involved in this. The man had raised him since he was twelve years old and so far Jaron thought of him as the best man he ever had the honor to know. The Matthos he knew would never get involved with someone who felt the need to hide in a rundown building and sent urchins to do his dirty work. Jaron had to find out what was going on here. He owed Ser Matthos that much. Besides, the great heroes in the stories never ran away from anything.
“Well, I won't leave... Sorry, I think I didn't heard your name“, Jaron said. Himani, who had placed himself on a wooden chair almost too tall for him, let out a bright laugh. “That's because she hasn't told you, Ser Jaron. Go on, m'lady, tell him your beautiful name“, he said while his little legs dangled in the air. The girl rolled her eyes at him, a surprisingly delightful sight and looked at Jaron. “I don't have a real name, Ser Jaron. The Wise Masters never gave me one. The Burned Man calls me Harpy, after the Harpy of Yunkai. I'm his handmaiden“, she answered with a calm voice. Harpy? Now that was a... charming name. He was in the shabbiest neighbourhood of Oldtown, together with a smartass street urchin and a Ghiscari slave girl who was named after a monster, waiting to meet a Burned Man. The door started to get more and more appealing.
“Well then, Ser Jaron. Please, follow me. The Burned Man is in a meeting right now, but I'll show you our waiting room“, Harpy said, prompting Himani to standing up from his chair. “Wait! I did my part, m'lady Harpy. Where's my reward?“, he said. Harpy sighed, opened a small purse and handed him a few silver coins. The boys smile was actually almost contagious, all circumstances considered. “Thanks m'lady Harpy. Give my regards to the Burned Man“, the urchin said and turned to Jaron. “He isn't bad, the Burned Man. He is into some stuff that is not legal, yes, but thanks to him I have something to eat for the next week. Many of us would have been dead without his work. Give him a chance and you won't regret it!“, he said while walking past him and out of the door. The Hedge Knight looked after him.
“Well... So you and Himani get along?“, the girl asked. Jaron could barely contain a grin. Himani had taken another coin from her purse when Harpy wasn't paying attention. “Yes, I think I like him...“, Jaron said with a chuckle. Harpy raised an eyebrow. “You do? The Burned Man thinks he is annoying. But he gets the job done“ Jaron noticed her behaviour getting slowly more confident. She even made something that slightly resembled a smile, before turning around and moving towards a door. “You can stay in there. As soon as he has time for you, I'll come back“, she said before turning around and walking towards another room. Jaron looked after her. What was he doing exactly?
He slowly went into the room and was greeted by the smell of alcohol. The room wasn't very big, but surprisingly luxurious. It was decorated in a style that did not seem to be Westerosi. Bright tapestries in red and yellow where dominating the room. A small table was full of wine bottles. And on an ottoman in the corner of the room sat a very tall man, slightly on the heavy side, with the dark olive skin of the Ghiscari. He was bald, but sported a bushy black beard with a thick moustache and an unibrow. His massively muscled arms sported rather obscene tattoos and as soon as he saw Jaron he gave him a wide smile. “Well, hello there!“, he shouted with a thick Ghiscari accent and raised a bottle of wine. “You waiting for the Burned Man? Come over, grab a seat and drink with me!“, he shouted. No, that man had obviously no indoor voice.
Jaron came closer. Slowly. Carefully. That man was obviously drunken, but he seemed to be no threat. Still, Jaron had a bad experience with drunkards. “What is your name, boy?“, the Ghiscari asked before raising his bottle again.“Ah, but let me introduce myself first. The name is Bakr al-Astapori, merchant from Astapor, the great red city in Slaver's Bay“, he exclaimed.
Slaver's Bay... Jaron had heard only bad stories about it. Was this man a slaver? Weren't slavers supposed to mean-looking brutes? This man looked more like a dolt. And his smile seemed to be genuine. Well, being polite could only help his situation. “Ser Jaron the Bastard, Hedge Knight“, Jaron introduced himself and the other man handed him a bottle.
“The Burned Man speaks with my partner Abbas right now. I don't like this kind of backroom talking, so I opted to wait here and enjoy the generosity of our host. Now, if only Harpy could come again. I think she wanted to give me a massage, the Yunkish way, if you know what I mean...“, Bakr said and broke out in a joyful laughter. Something on this man seemed to be genuinely friendly. On the other hand, Jaron did not trust him. Ser Matthos hated the Ghiscari of Slaver's Bay with a passion. According to him they were all greedy and lying opportunists.
“So, Ser Jaron, why are you here?“, Bakr asked, while taking a big sip from his bottle
Jaron shrugged. “To be honest, I have no idea. This Burned Man wants to meet me for some reason...“, he answered. No... No don't think about that, don't ask... “Bakr... Why do they call him the “Burned Man“?“, Jaron blurted out. Seven Hells, now he asked. Maybe if he stopped liste... “Well, it's actually a funny story, you know? He wasn't always the Burned Man. Harpy knew him before. He might have a real name, can you imagine that?“, Bakr started to tell and Jaron couldn't stop listening. This was the stuff his nightmares were made from!
Rescue came in the form of Harpy, who opened the door again, interrupting Bakr in his tale. “The Burned Man is ready to see you, Ser Jaron“, she said with a slight smile. As Jaron was about to stand up in relief, Bakr grabbed his arm. “You haven't even drank anything with me! Shame...“, he exclaimed, sounding slightly disappointed. His face brightened up as he saw Harpy. “Harpy! Came to give me that massage?“, he asked with a lecherous smile. Jaron saw Harpys face and tried hard to choke his laughter. He failed, which resulted in a cold glare from the handmaiden. After a moment, Bakr joined him with his own boisterous and jovial laughter. “See you around Jaron!“, he said, giving his attention to another bottle of wine.
Harpy shivered as they left the room. “Sorry for leaving you with this... charming man in there. He and his partner work with the Burned Man on something“, she said with an apologetic look. She lead Jaron to another door, behind it a small corridor. How big was this house exactly?
A man walked down the corridor and came closer. In the first moment, Jaron thought it was the Burned Man. Then he realized it was another Ghiscari, a bit smaller than Bakr, but still very tall. His head was shaved and he had a beard not less impressive than Bakrs, albeit his was better maintained. The man took a small bow before Jaron and Harpy. “Ah... another guest in the Burned Mansion“, he said with a soft and calm voice, slightly chuckling over his terrible joke. His accent was far less noticeable than Bakrs. “My name is Abbas al-Yunkari, merchant and businesspartner of the Burned Man“. His dark eyes looked directly at Jaron, who felt slightly uncomfortable. “Ser Jaron the Bastard...“, he muttered. Abbas thin mouth formed a cold smile. “Glad to meet you, Ser Jaron...“, he said before walking past them. Jaron looked at Harpy, quite puzzled. “And what was that?“, he asked. “One of the Burned Mands friends from across the Narrow Sea. Bakrs partner“, she was quick to answer, without giving any more details.
Another door was opened. Another room was entered. This time, it was only scarcely illuminated. The room contained a large table, two chairs and three men. Two of them where tall and ripped men with the dark amber skin of the Dothraki. They stood behind a chair, in which a small man of about forty years sat. He looked completely normal, almost frightingly ordinary. His short brown hair was back-kempt, he was clean shaven and even paler than Harpy. His blue eyes were narrowed and he had the facial features of a man from Volantis. No burn scars anywhere on his face, in fact he could almost be considered handsome.
When the man put his hands on the table, Jaron winced. Now he knew without a doubt that he was speaking to the Burned Man. The left hand was crippled and twisted, completely black, like charcoal, with two fingers entirely missing. His right hand wasn't in a much better shape. While it still had the colour of flesh, it was horribly scarred. Two fingers seemed to be completely immobile as he raised his hand. “Ser Jaron. I'm glad you had the time to meet me...“, the Burned Man said, while waving for Jaron to come closer. His voice was a deep, melodic baritone. Jaron took a step closer and noticed that Harpy stood right behind him. Even though she could definitely be pleasant company, he felt rather threatened by it.
“You're likely asking yourself why I have asked you to come...“, the baritone voice said. With his right index finger, the Burned Man tapped on the wood of his table, an annoying, yet strangely melodic sound.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
“You're likely asking yourself what a man like Ser Matthos “The Kind“ has to do with someone like me...“
Tap. Tap. Tap.
“People are so quick to confuse a kind man with a good man. I can assure you, the venerable Ser Matthos was in many ways not a good man...“ With these words, the Burned Man stopped tapping and looked Jaron right in the eye.
The Hedge Knight felt wrath. They did not took his sword. It would be easy. He could chop his head off, end the life of this man who just insulted his mentor. What stopped him was the tought of the two Dothraki behind the Burned Man. And Harpy, right behind him.
“Ser Matthos was the best man I ever knew. He was honorable, brave and dutiful“, Jaron screwed out, while looking at him with rage.
The Burned Man smiled. It was a completely cold smile, without any joy in it. “Honor. The good man's disease. Bravery. The stupid man's disease. Duty. The blind man's disease. I have little regard for any of them. The fact is, that Ser Matthos was indeed a kind man, well-loved by anyone he met. This did not prevent him from borrowing a lot of money from me. In the good old days, before he took a squire he even worked for me. Now he is dead. And I know, I won't get my money back from you, you poor Hedge Knight“
The Burned Man leant forwards and Jaron took a step closer, Harpy still right behind him. The Dothraki didn't even moved a single muscle. Only as he was looking down, Jaron noticed that he had his hand on the hilt of his sword. “You are lying...“, he sputtered. He despised this crippled man. He despised him and his disgusting lies.
The Burned Man did not try to justify what he said. He just smiled. “Maybe. I know people like you. You are infected with Bravery and Honor and maybe even a bit of Duty. That is a dangerous combination. Nothing good ever comes out of it. You won't believe what I just said, even if I had proof. But I know what people like you truly desire...“ The Burned Man gave a sign with his hand and Harpy moved past Jaron and next to the Burned Man. She helped him up and he gave her a soft, almost tender look. Jaron realized that the man could hardly stand alone. The Burned Man followed Jarons shocked gaze and smiled. “The Wise Masters did this to me, when I tried to do something brave. Still, I hold no grudge against them. A grudge is a terrible thing to hold, sometimes even worse than bravery...“
With Harpys help, the Burned Man took a few steps closer, until he was able to look Jaron right in the eye. The Hedge Knight noticed that the Burned Man would have been very tall and very handsome, if it wasn't for his injuries. “What do you want from me?“, Jaron asked. He was breathing heavily and winced as the Burned Man put his right hand, his “good“ hand up and patted him on the shoulder. “You lost your mentor and I did not intend to mock him, or his memory. Ser Matthos might not have been a good man, but then, none of us are. He was better than the most, I can assure you that...“, he said, with an almost fatherly voice.
“I know what people like you want. It's always the same“, the Burned Man said and leaned closer. As he spoke directly in Jarons ear, he was almost whispering.“You want the world. You want to be the greatest knight that ever was. You want to win the heart of a fair princess... I can't give you anything of that. But I can bring you on a way, where you might be able to gain this on your own. All you need to do is repaying me, repaying Ser Matthos debt“
Jaron gulped. As he looked the Burned Man in the eyes he was expecting to see a sign of madness. Instead he saw the sanest man he had ever seen. “What do you want me to do? I have no money...“, Jaron said. The Burned Man gave him a short, almost sincere smile. “No. But you have talent. I am in need of a man like you. I need you to bring me something. I won't ask from you to slaughter innocents or something like that, I can assure you“
Jaron noticed that he was trembling. With excitement? With fear? He could not tell. But still, one question remained. “Why me?“, he asked.
The Burned Man grinned. “Why not? You are not in any way more special than anyone else, Ser Jaron. But Matthos believed in you. And I believe in Ser Matthos judgement. I am willing to give it a try. Should you succeed, you will be rewarded. The Burned Mans words have great influence in Reach. And you cleared the name of your mentor. Of course, you are also free to go now. I would be disappointed. And I'm sure Ser Matthos would be disappointed too...“
Jarons closed his eyes. This was it. The opportunity. But he always hoped for an opportunity a bit more... honorable. This man... He knew people like him. They were like wolves, and people like Jaron were the prey. Should he really get involved with this man? Still, this was the opportunity. And then there was the little thought in his head, still telling him that everyone who ever did something shady like this in his stories would wind up dead. But so did the brave, honorable and dutiful people outside of the stories.
[Work with the Burned Man] [Refuse to work with the Burned Man]
Like I said before, this part will be split in two, due to the length. It would be easiest if you vote for both choices under this post!
Lyria
Lyria closed her eyes. By the Seven, why was she even considering this?
“Yes, Wolfius. We have an agreement...“, she muttered before taking the purse Woodbark offered her. The man had started to smile again, his cold, lifeless smile. This time it was directed at Rosalie.
The way he looked at her daughter... Lyria felt rage inside of her. She knew, it would be the best if she would just bash his head in. But she left the hammer in the backroom. And besides that, she was no killer. In all her life she only took one life. And that could hardly count as murder, since the man she killed was hardly a human being. Wolfius on the other hand... She was not sure what to make of him. Was he crazy, or was he just bizzare? Was he dangerous?
Woodbark took a step closer. “I'm going to need the dagger next week, blacksmith Mettel...“, he said, his voice trembling in anticipation. “Seven days. Can you make this?“
This time, Lyria met his gaze. Woodbark did not seem to look straight in her eye. Of course, his stare was focused on her, but he seemed to look at a point between her eyes or slightly above them. She noticed again, that he hadn't blinked once since he started the conversation. What kind of person does not blink? His cold gaze shifted from her to Rosalie, who stood in the corner, a bit confused about this affair.
“Seven days, Wolfius. It won't be easy, but I will make it. Come here again in seven days and I will give you the dagger“, Lyria finally said. She was a bit relieved that she managed to say it, but on the other hand she was worried. This man would come her forge again. She would have to speak to him again. And the worst part would be, he would meet Rosalie again.
Wolfius grin was unsettling and Lyria did not manage to look at him any longer. “Very good, blacksmith Mettel... Seven days and then you shall receive the rest of your payment... But remember, don't tell anyone. It will be our little secret“, he said, before taking an elegant bow in front of Rosalie.
“We will meet again“, he proclaimed, before turning around and leaving the forge. Lyria felt relieve overcoming her. She noticed she had almost held her breath in the last moments. Rosalie looked at her, visibly and understandably confused. “So... do you want to tell me what that was about?“, she asked. Rosalie did not seem to be affected by this encounter. At best, she seemed amused. That was always the biggest issue with Rosalies behaviour. She never took anything seriously. She never understood danger.
Lyria gave her daughter a soft smile. Usually she found it hard to show emotion when dealing with other people. But with Rosalie it was different. “I don't know, Rosie... I guess it was a customer“, she answered.
Rosalie looked to the door. Then she began to giggle. “Wolfius Woodbark... Is that really supposed to be a name? He sounds like one of these northern people“
Lyria remembered what Wolfius said “I don't think he is a northerner. Might not even be his real name, to be honest. And Rosie... This is no man you want to make fun about, trust me“
Rosalie stopped giggling and looked at her mother, this time a little bit more serious.“Do you think he is dangerous? Is he a criminal?“ Her blue eyes where filled with anticipation. Rosalie loved stories like this. She was interested in at least one of the village boys because he claimed that he once fought a highwayman to the death. But Wolfius was not like the men from her stories.
Lyria was silent for a moment. Was Wolfius dangerous? She couldn't tell. When she looked him in the eyes, she saw something she did not like. But he seemed to be broken. Yes, she was afraid of him. But she also felt pity. “I don't know if he is dangerous... But he has this look in his eyes. I don't think we should provoke him“, she finally answered. “Say Rosie, where have you been all morning? I could have used your help!“, she added reproachfully.
Rosalie shrugged. “First I went to the Sept. Septon Corbin gave a really boring sermon about the mercy of the Seven. Do you even know that the old Lord is dead?“
Lyria nodded.“I saw Richard earlier. He already knew it from his daughter. Besides, nobody could have missed the damn bells all morning long“, she scoffed. Rosalie smiled. “Oooh, you saw Richard earlier, huh? Is he courting you?“, she said with a slightly mocking voice. Lyria looked at her in shock. Richard Harking had been a family friend for years. He was a decent man and a widower, but he had great respect for her late husband. Besides that, she wasn't interested in a new relationship. Malcolm, her husband, had been her only love, at least until Rosalie was born. For years it was only the three of them. Until the Ironborn took him. No, she wasn't interested in a relationship. And she highly doubted that this was Richards intention. Rosalie let out a bright laugh.“Oh, you should have seen how your face just dropped, mother. Priceless! I'm just teasing you. Harking is too nice to go after a widow“, she said and immediately her smile stopped as she realised what she just said. “Mother I... I did not want to...“
Lyria knew, she should have been angry at what her daughter just said, but she wasn't. She took a step forward and gave her daughter a hug. “I miss father...“, Rosalie said and Lyria could see tears in her daughters eyes. She did not cry. She was unable to cry with other people around. Not even with Rosalie. “Shh Rosie. I miss him too...“, she said.
Rosalie calmed down quickly. That girl couldn't stay sad for long. “Have you been here the whole day?“, she asked. When Lyria nodded, Rosalie put up a shocked face. “Mother have mercy, you need to get out of this blasted house for once. We go to the market square, now!“ With these words she grabbed her mothers hand and pulled her out of the forge. Lyria did not resist agains that. She knew, Rosalie was right. She had to get out sometimes. But there was so many work to do. She had almost no friends in the village. Back when Malcolm was still alive, there were always people around her, people she called friends. After his death, she realized they had always been Malcolms friends. He had been a lot like Rosalie, making friends easily. Now she maintained a casual friendship with an old widow from across the street. Sometimes she talked to Richard, who rarely visited Raylansfair however. He was a farmer and spent most of his week on his farm, half a mile from the village. On other days she talked to Rosalies friends from the village. But on most days she had no one to talk, besides Rosalie. Maybe it was time to meet some people.
They walked down the small road from the forge, down to the market square. The square was the central point in the village. From there it was only a short walk to the Sept and an even shorter to the docks. Raylansfairs largest tavern, “The Tapping Pony“ was located there, as well as several stores. A cobbled street lead out of the village and up to the cliff on which the castle Raylansfair was located. Raylansfair-by-the-sea it was called. Should Ironborn raiders manage to overcome the Shield Islands, Raylansfair was always the first city they were raiding. But ever since Harren Hoare got into war with the Rock, the raids got less frequent. The last one had been six years ago.
The square was always populated, especially during these hours, but today it was crowded. Rosalie saw some of her friends and walked over to them, while Lyria looked around for any familiar face. Pale skin. Dead eyes. Was that Wolfius in the crowd? She blinked and he was gone. If it really had been him in the first place. Seven Hells, this blasted job really got on her nerves!
She felt a hand on her shoulder and turned around. Behind her stand Richard Harking. He was a somehow raggedy looking man with messy brown hair. In contrast, his beard was always neatly combed. He had a friendly smile. “Lyria, what a surprise! What convinced you to leave your forge?“, he greeted her. Lyria was still a bit startled. For one moment she had thought that he was Wolfius. What was wrong with her? Richard was one of the kindest persons in Raylansfair. And Wolfius hadn't done anything bad yet, right?
“Lyria? Is something the matter? You look... distraught...“, Richard said and he sounded genuinely worried. That was another thing with Richard. He was always caring and friendly, sometimes to the point where people got annoyed. But years ago she had seen him getting into a fight with a man who harassed his daughter, Jenna. He would do anything for his family. And he always seemed to know what to do. Maybe she should confide in him. But then she remembered what Wolfius said. She shouldn't tell anyone.
[Tell Richard about Wolfius] [Don't tell Richard about Wolfius]
[Refuse to work with The Burned Man]
[Don't tell Richard about Wolfius]
Excellent.
{Refuse to work with the burned man}, I feel if hes honourable he wouldnt even though he will likely get a knife through the neck the second he does
{Don't tell Richard about Wolfius} I feel as though the daft daughter will anyway however I feel if she does as instructed she should be fine, shes small folk there cant be any big plot for her.
[Work with the burned man]
[Don't tell Richard about Wolfius]
[Work with the Burned Man]
Awesome chapter! Sorry I wasn't able to get my third slaver in on time I'll try to send her today.
[Work with the Burned Man]
[Tell Richard about Wolfius]
[Refuse to work with The Burned Man]
There's something way too wrong with him. He's just...off. Maybe I'm just paranoid of everyone in Game of Thrones.
[Don't tell Richard about Wolfius.]
Excellent chapter.
Great chapter again!
[Work with the Burned Man] Even if it doesn't feel honorable I think Jaron just can't pass this opportunity.
[Don't tell Richard about Wolfius] I just don't see Lyria as someone who would start talking about it when nothing bad actually happened (yet).
Thanks!
I was suspecting that a third one was planned, from what you've written
I have some pretty cool plans for Abbas and Bakr and a third one will definitely be great to introduce later! In fact, Abbas and Bakr inspired me to do a completely new side story, albeit still connected to the main events
[Tell Richard about Wolfius]
[ Refuse to work with the burned man.] I debated this for awhile. On one hand I don't trust him, but if we don't work for him he may be angry.
[Don't tell Richard about Wolfius.]
Nice!
This is the first time I am voting here, and I've never seen a fanfiction as well made like this, hopefully it stays that way, I will review when that chapter is over.
[Work with the Burned Man]
I know he seems a little suspicious, but Jaron need money.
[Tell Richard about Wolfius]
If something goes wrong, it's better have someone to help.
[ Refuse to work with the burned man.]
[Don't tell Richard about Wolfius.]
It's rly good
[Refuse to work with The Burned Man
[Don't tell Richard about Wolfius]
[Work with the Burned Man]
[Work with the Burned Man]
[Don't tell Richard about Wolfius]
[Work with the Burned Man]
I guess that Jaron should, I'm worried that the Burned Man will do something otherwise.
Speaking of the Burned Man, I have to say, he reminded me a hell of a lot of the Crooked Man from The Wolf Among Us, all the way from his name down to his disfigured-ness. I digress, I liked Jaron a bit more than I did in his first chapter. I agree with the Burned Man; Himani is pretty annoying XD. Harpy is a good addition however, and I have a feeling that Jaron will eventually get a message from her
Bakr and Abbas were good additions (especially Bakr).
Anyways, I enjoyed this more than his last chapter!
Woops, didn't read the part about voting here instead, so I'll just copy and paste the other bit.
[Work with the Burned Man]
I guess that Jaron should, I'm worried that the Burned Man will do something otherwise.
Speaking of the Burned Man, I have to say, he reminded me a hell of a lot of the Crooked Man from The Wolf Among Us, all the way from his name down to his disfigured-ness. I digress, I liked Jaron a bit more than I did in his first chapter. I agree with the Burned Man; Himani is pretty annoying XD. Harpy is a good addition however, and I have a feeling that Jaron will eventually get a message from her
Bakr and Abbas were good additions (especially Bakr).
Anyways, I enjoyed this more than his last chapter!
[Tell Richard about Wolfius]
As long as he doesn't go blabbing on about him, it shouldn't be a concern to anyone.
Also, THE HARKINGS AND THEIR MAGICAL QUEST FOR FARMING IS HERE! Good work here, and I enjoyed the setup for the "will they or wont they" relationship between the two. Rosalie seems genuinely concerned for her mother, so I respect that.
Good chapter, there honestly isn't much for me to say here, so continue on!
The Voting is closed!
Jaron will reluctantly work with the Burned Man
Lyria won't tell Richard about Wolfius
The next part will already conclude Chapter 1 and should be up later today!
Marak
Gold. Yes Gold would be great. He lost his last money in this blasted tavern brawl. On the other hand, the chance to get a bit closer to this priestess would be priceless... And his curiosity finally got the better of him. “This truth... what would it be?“, he asked.
Noelle gave him an approving look. “The Lord of Light has given us many gifts, but the most valuable is fire, the essence of R'hllor. You will look into the fire and the fire will look into you. And if the Lord of Light deems you worthy, you will see something“, she explained.
Marak looked at her, quite confused. This was not a real explanation. “So my payment for being your bodyguard from here to Reach is that I get to look into a little campfire?“ That was not impressive, not at all. Maybe he should have just taken the gold, or even better, maybe he should have minded his own business and not gotten involved in any way with this priestess and her rollmop. But it was a bit late for that.
Noelle seemed to be indignant by this. “You make it seem like everyone could do this“, she said, her voice sounding slightly offended. “Do you want to see the truth now?“
Marak shrugged. Now, if she was offering he wouldn't decline. On the other hand, the small possibility that she could try to curse him was still slightly repelling him. He took a deep breath. He had iron in his blood. He would not back out of this. He was definitely not scared by a single woman. “Show me the truth, Lady Noelle!“, he exclaimed.
The Red Priestess gave him a pleased smile. “This will be interesting, for both of us. I'm not sure what you will see. If you even see something. The Red God favours only few. There are days where even I don't see his ways“, she explained. Now that was certainly encouraging!
She turned around.“Come with me, tough guy!“, she commanded him and Marak followed her, like a trained dog. Blackhaven wasn't a large village, even though the marcher lords of House Dondarrion had their seat there. It did not took long until Noelle reached a small house. It looked abandoned “This is where I stay for the night“, she explained. Marak let out a small chuckle. “You sleep in that house? Aren't you afraid of bandits or worse?“, he asked. Noelle raised an eyebrow and looked at him, slightly surprised. “I always forget that I am not in Braavos anymore. It is true that the night is dark and full of terror, but he who walks with the Lord of Light shall fear no night“, she explained. “Besides... dealing with these things is part of your job, right?“, she added with a slight smile.
Without another word, she entered the house, Marak right behind her. The Ironborn was slightly surprised that the abandoned house was actually neatly illuminated once he stepped inside. The windows were darkened, but Noelle had put many candles inside. A small brazier was located on a table in the center of the room. Marak noticed other things. A backpack, likely containing Noelles personal belongings. A small bottle.
“I need you to sit in front of the brazier. Just relax, tough guy. You don't have to fear the fire. Only fear the cold“, Noelle said before grabbing the battle and pouring its content, an oily fluid, into the brazier. Marak gulped. He never experienced witchcraft before, but that surely felt like it. But nonetheless, he did as he was told and sat down in front of the brazier. Noelle walked behind him and when he felt something in his back, he noticed that she knelt directly behind him and grabbed him by the shoulder. He could feel her warmth. By the drowned god, it was a cold night and she was only wearing this thin dress. She shouldn't be warmer than him! The whole situation was a bit uncomfortable for Marak, who has never been that close to a woman without trying to kill or trying to fuck her.
“I said you have to relax...“, she softly whispered in his ear. And in this moment, Marak wanted to do nothing more than to relax. It should have been easy. The candle light was nice. It was warm. And Noelle could have been certainly nice company, if it weren't for her crazy talks and the fact that something was very off-setting about her. He heard her whispering strange words he did not understand. Was that the language of the Asshai'i? It sounded oddly relaxing. He saw one of her hands movin into his field of sight, throwing something in the brazier.
A darting flame shot up to the ceiling, almost scorching Maraks beard and in this moment he understood what Noelle was saying. “Look into the flames, Marak“, she whispered. And he looked. At first he saw nothing, but bright flames. Noelle began to speak in Asshai'i again, a melodic, almost singing sound. Marak looked deeper into the flames, until his eyes hurt and until he saw black shadows dancing in the corner of his eyes. And then he saw...
...fire...
...a field of flowers, some bright and beautiful, some black and twisted, a swarm of black and orange butterflies flying over them, destroying them, leaving only the rotten behind...
...a red lion fighting a serpent at rainfall, the lion wounding the serpent, the serpent wounding the lion “Your line ends today!“, screams the serpent and plungs its teeth into the lion...
...a winged woman on a yellow mountain, holding a golden whip, screaming for vengeance...
...lions and stags and squids and falcons fighting over a golden book, tearing it asunder, burning it to the ground...
...a man wearing a bloody black crown, crying over four dead bodies, watching the sunrise...
...a silver-haired man standing next to a winged shadow, the shadow spitting fire in the air and burning, burning, burning everything...
...an endless wasteland, two armies fighting, a silver sun moving across the sky burning everything in it's path, one of the seven hells itself, until the silver sun falls from the sky and leaves only ruins and dead bodies, everything fallen...
...everything falls, everything breaks, castles breaking, smallfolk breaking, dragons breaking, crowned men breaking, a broken man on a throne of swords, everything consumed by the fire, an old king with a mad gaze, yelling to burn them all, a lion attacking him, but still everything burns, consumed by fire, red fire, green fire
...and finally he saw himself, standing on board of his ship, only days after he murdered his father. He felt good in these days. He was a captain, a feared raider. And he was boozy like never before. Yes, he murdered his father for a ship. And he felt no regret, at least not in this moment, not in this stormy night. Life was simple, life was good. Except... His brother... he knew the truth...
...Marak saw himself getting pushed overboard, in his drunken rage he grabbed his brother and dragged him off with him. Marak saw himself, how he pushed his brother under the water, to keep afloat himself, but also in a murdering fit of rage...
...Rage...
...and he flipped around, grabbing the Red Priestess by the neck with his left hand and started to choke her. “What have you done to me?“, he screamed at the top of his lungs, tears of rage flowing down his face. He did not want to think about that, he did not want to relive this memories. He wasn't ashamed and he did not want to become ashamed. But she, she made him remember!
Noelle gasped and wheezed and winced, while Marak was choking her, choking the life out or her sorry throat. Yes, now he was in his element. Killing was something he was good at. Breaking her, killing her.
“What have you done!“, he screamed again. She bewitched him, she cursed him, she made him see all this, this dreams of fire, this things he did not want to regret! Noelle still gasped for air and this time Marak lessened his grip on her neck.
“I know you are confused, tough guy...“, she started, but Marak interrupted her. “It's Marak! Call me tough guy one more time and I will break your fucking neck!“, he screamed, tightening his grip again, before throwing her on the ground like a piece of trash. He looked at the brazier, still burning, but with ordinary flames now. It was over. The witches curse was broken.
Noelle coughed. “What have you seen, Marak?“, she asked. Her voice was hoarsy and her face was red and she was clearly afraid. Still, Marak felt compassion and curiosity in her words.
“You know what I have seen. What you have made me seen!“, he said, but he did not have the strength to scream again. Instead he felt tears flowing down his face. What has this woman done to him? Noelle shook her head. “The Lord of Light showed you this things. I only helped you in recognizing them... Tell me, what have you seen?“
Marak took a deep breath. “Dying people. Dead people. Flowers and Lions and Serpents. Dying kings. A broken king. And I saw fire. Fire, burning everything, destroying and breaking... I saw my past...“, he said weakly. To his surprise, Noelle gave him a weak, but sincere smile. “The Lord of Light gave you a gift, Marak. He showed you the future. I was not expecting this, to be honest. Not from you. You need to tell me everything. It could be important“
Marak closed his eyes. He was confused. And he was angry. Never before had he felt such a need to break something, to destroy something, to kill something. To burn something.
He opened his eyes again. And started to tell her everything.
Lucas
“Come on Flowers, you haven't talked to me for hours. Still mad about that?“, Leonard said while looking at Lucas. Lucas sighed and rubbed his bruises. He took a good beating from Ser Ilhan after Leonard had tricked him into a sparring match. And even though they were only fighting with training swords, Lucas was cluttered with bruises. Ser Ilhan had shown no mercy. At least Lucas had managed to deliver a fierce blow to Ser Ilhans left arm. The master-at-arms' riposte almost knocked him out though. The worst part however was that he did not find any time to inform Ser Ilhan of what he had just found out. Harris had always watched them. And after the fight he insisted that Lucas and Leonard would leave immediately and go after Dairon.
Somehow Lucas could understand why Harris would hide the sheet of paper. Should Ser Ilhan or anyone else get to know about this, they would try everything to fullfill Lord Roberts last wish. Ser Ilhan was loyal to the House, but always to the man at first. Septon Corbin and Lady Halla did not care for the well-being of the house as long as they could keep their positions. Only Harris would put his personal feelings below his loyalty to House Raylan. A small part inside of Lucas understood him, even thought he was right. But what about Maester Eaton? The old Maester had known Lord Raylan the longest, even longer than Harris. Would he betray his friend like this? And would Harris be able to kill Eaton and Lord Robert? Lucas had always felt respect for Harris, but if the castellan was behind this, he could never forgive him.
But first they had to find Dairon. Harris gave them the two fastest horses in Raylansfair and urged them to move immediately. They had been riding the whole day, until nightfall, where they made a camp near the road. Leonard made a fire, while Lucas was resting his maltreated bones. He was torn. He felt friendship to Harris. He felt loyalty to House Raylan. And Harris was acting Lord Raylan until a new Lord was chosen. But still... he had to find out what Harris did. How he was involved in all this.
“Hey Flowers! You hear me? Or are we into ignoring each other again?“, Leonard exclaimed, leading Lucas to look up. Leonard gave him a slight smile “You know I had to do it, don't you? It seemed to be the right thing at that moment“, he said.
Lucas shook his head. “I know. You did right. Still doesn't mean I'm not mad at you... Lenny“, he explained. Leonard gave him a short glare, but then let out a short laugh. “Ah, come on Flowers. And I was starting to think you might not be that bad after all. You're giving me silence from now on, just because I gave you a good excuse when you needed one?“, he said, still chuckling.
“That's not it... I mean, yes I am pretty mad about that. The Impaler got me pretty bad“, he said, while holding a particularly bad bruise on his right shoulder. Leonard gave him a really wicked smile. What a bastard! “If it's not that, then why are you so silent?“, he asked.
Lucas closed his eyes. Now or never. Could he really trust Leonard? The other knight had proven himself to be a valuable ally. Without his help, he wouldn't have found the sheet. But could he trust him enough for that? What he had found wasn't meant to get into the wrong hands. But whose hands were the wrong? Ser Harris would ignore the sheet, ignore Lord Raylans last will. Lord Hightower would gladly oblige. But what was the best cause of action here?
Then there was Dairon. The boy was wanted for a murder he likely never commited. He was on the run, they had found out that much. A farmer saw him in the early morning hours, riding like there was no tomorrow. A patrol had spoken to him and noticed the boy was nervous and on the verge of breaking down. He had said that he needed to get to Oldtown. And very likely he had the sheet of paper with him, containing Lord Robert Raylans last wish. Lucas highly doubted that Dairon killed Maester Eaton. But what if Eaton told him something, something that costed him his life? Something that prompted Harris to call for a hunt on the poor boy? Or what if it was even worse? What if there was more than one person involved? Harris, maybe Lord Hightower, maybe even more...
No. He could not take the risk of telling no one. Should something happen to him, what he found out would be lost. He had to tell someone. And right now, Leonard was the only one available. He took a deep breath. If he was wrong about trusting Leonard, he would have doomed himself. And maybe even House Raylan.
“It is about what I found in Harris' chambers...“, he said. Leonard looked up, visibly interested in this. “So now you're telling me? What caused the change of heart?“, he asked.
Lucas shook his head. “I had no change of heart. I wanted to tell Ser Ilhan. But I won't speak to him for days, if not weeks. And should something happen to me, he has to know. Someone else has to tell him“, he answered and gave Leonard a stern look.
The other knight nodded in agreement. “You can trust me Lucas. I swear it, to all of the gods, should something happen to you, I'll be the one to give your message to Ser Ilhan“, he answered. Lucas thought about that for a moment. Leonard wasn't a man who gave promises like that easily. But he was a skilled talker...
“I found a traced sheet of paper in Harris' chamber. It was written by Maester Eaton, the night he and Lord Raylan had died“, he finally started to explain and took out the sheet of paper from his pockets. “I'm going to read it to you, okay?“ Leonard gave him a short nod. Lucas cleared his throat.
“To Lord Manfred Hightower, Lord of Oldtown,
So many years have passed, since we've talked the last time, my old friend. You wanted to buy the archive on behalf of your citadel. Once again. I rebuffed you. Once again. You got angry. I got angry. We both said things we shouldn't have. And let me make one thing clear: I will never forgive some of the things you said about Morna and Trystane. But I am dying, Manfred, and I am weak. Too weak to even write my own last will. The Faith told us to forgive our enemies before we die. So, that's what I will do. I will forgive what you said about me. And I hope that you can forgive what I said about you. I apologize on behalf of Trystane for humiliating you on Tarlys Tournament. I apologize on behalf of Morna, for mocking you on King Gardeners summer ball. I apologize, for my stupidity and my pride poisoned my heart. And in turn I wish that you will help me. My house has few friends, but many enemies. And not all of them have been civil like you. I'm not just talking about the Ironborn here. I'm talking about the other Lords of the Reach. I'm talking about forces in your own city. People seeking to destroy not only my house, but the whole Kingdom. I am not powerful enough to stop them. And House Raylan isn't powerful enough to defend itself against them. But you would be, Lord Hightower. And this is why I want to name you Lord of Raylansfair. I am the last Raylan, my line ends with me. I want you to take the blasted archive. Take it to the Citadel and keep it safe. Or even better, burn it to the ground. I should have done that years ago. There won't be a new Lord Raylan. I wish for my village nothing more but to stay small and unnoticed. I want House Raylan to be gone. My house has been dying for the last fourty years. It is time it comes to an end. I am not asking for anything more, Manfred. Destroy House Raylan if you must, but keep my people safe“
Lucas looked at Leonard, who just sat there, in complete shock. “Why in all the Seven Hells did Lord Raylan wanted to destroy his own house?“, the other knight finally managed to stutter.
End of Chapter I: Dark Wings, Dark Words
Your Choices:
Investigation: Lucas decided to search Harris' chambers
Business: Lyria decided to accept Wolfius' comission
Payment: Marak decided to learn the truth from Noelle
Defiance: Torvin decided to help Lord Tully against Harren Hoare
Opportunity: Jaron decided to work with the Burned Man
Next time on Forum of Thrones:
“This is my choice, brother. This won't affect you, so stay out of it!“, Torvin growled.
Garthon looked at him with cold rage and disappointment. “You say it won't affect me? Have you forgotten all the things I already had to do for you? In the end it is always me! It is always me, fixing the things you have broken with your damned pride and your obstinacy! And you... you don't even care. You will kill us both and it doesn't even matter for you, as long as you can restore our fucking honor!“
Lannister looked at him with a stony face. “We need Lord Raylan to hold the promise he gave us. We need his troops!“, he said with a stern face. Willfred looked at the king in confusion. “My king, I don't understand. Is the war really so bad that we need the troops of such a small house?“, he asked
Loren sighed. “I'm afraid it is even worse...“, he mumbled and his face got a sorrowful expression.
“I'm glad you are here to help me, Ser Jaron. I admit, I am in no way a good man. But there are people fighting over this city, fighting over this kingdom, who are far worse than anything you can imagine“, the Burned Man said,while shivering from the pain. “These people will gladly walk on the corpses of millions to achieve their goals. I despise bravery. It is mankinds biggest sin. But we can't let these people win. I'm afraid that to stop them, we have to be brave, we have to be heroes for once. That is what you always wanted, right?“
Richard looked over at the other table. The man was deadly pale, with bedraggled blond hair and dead grey eyes. Richard had never seen him before. And he did not like the way this man was looking at the barmaid. Right in that moment, the stranger turned his head and looked at Richard, with a cold smile, a smile so bare of any emotion that Richard shivered.
Maya looked at the lord in confusion. “Mylord Royce, this Raylansfair lies at the other end of Westeros. Is it really that important?“ Lord Royce let out a loud laugh, not a jovial one, but one full of mockery. “Sweet child, we couldn't care less for Raylansfair. What the Queen Regent really wants is something from the archive. Something that will ensure the Vales safety for centuries...“, he said, while giving her a wicked smile.
“Jaron the Bastard?“, the tall man asked with a wicked smile, while he was drawing his sword. Jaron turned around and saw two other men blocking the alleyway. “There has been some talk on the streets. People say you work for that burned cripple now... That was the wrong choice, Bastard...“, the tall man hissed, while coming closer.
Jenna stopped. That was wrong. That would get her into trouble. But curiosity got the better of her. She heard two men arguing. Ser Ilhans voice was distinctive. And... was that Ser Harris? Lord Harris, she corrected herself. He was a Lord now. “Who gave you the right to decide in this matter, Harris Flowers?“, Ilhan shouted. For a short moment there was silence, but then Jenna heard the Lord speaking. “I am your Lord, Ser Ilhan. You will never speak to me like that again, do you understand? I am the Lord of Raylansfair, and I intend to stay so!“
Forum of Thrones, Act I, Chapter II: Broken Vows, Coming Soon!
Good job again
I am curious about the priestess and why she has such an interest in the guy, unless she really is just weak however surely there were better mercenary options than him. That vision is foreshadowing im guessing so ill have to pay attention for that
I have to admit though the other two are just sort of... meh. I dont really have much interest in either yet compared to the others. The reveal was decent however surely this is what would have happened anyway , the land being given to a neighbouring lord
You wrote an exciting start, encouraging me to read the rest of the story, I liked the drama that you added in the death of Lord and maester, was well detailed and easy to understand. Next, you started writing the history of each character, showing who they were and forcing them to choose hazardous choices, making me even more anxious for the next part. The only thing I did not like the story was reading be tiring and some things I did not understand. Overall the story was very detailed and dramatic, like a fanfiction Game of Thrones must be, well described characters and exciting moments. I'll give this a 9.5/10, the best fanfiction I've ever read, I hope it stays that way.
I hope the next chapter has more death, and I also would like to know more about each character.
WTF
THE BEST CHAPTER SINCE THE START!!!!!!!!!!!
So, that was Chapter I! I had tremendous fun writing it and I shall begin with writing for the next chapter tomorrow. But for now, I have a few questions I'd like to ask you. It would be helpful, but not required, if you can give a short explanation:
1) Who is your favourite Point-of-view so far?
2) Who is your least favourite Point of view so far?
3) Who is your favourite character so far (can be the same as in 1)?
4) Who is your least favourite character so far (can be the same as in 2)?
5) What has been your favourite part of the fanfiction so far?
6) Is there something you would advice me to make better in future parts?
1)Jaron
2)Lyria
3)Gotta love Abbas
4)Lyria
5)Gotta love my Slavers
6)Keep it coming!
Okay Im really bad with names so anywayi'll just use examples