Holding back? Velmont Redloon dared to ask him to hold back? The thought was amusing, as well as outraging. If anyone would deserve a little thrashing, it would be that guy! A fish who tried to be iron! He wanted a fight and he would get it! Ironborn never held back! Or at least not for scum like Velmont Redloon...
“So, Breaker what do you...”, Velmont started to say but was cut off when Garthon punched him in the face. He heard a satisfying crunch and saw his opponent staggering backwards, bellowing in pain. “You fucking...”, he exclaimed, but Garthon was faster and punched him again, again in the face, further damaging the man's nose, almost sending him to the ground this time. Instead of going down however, Velmont let out an angry howl and charged towards Garthon, grabbing him and throwing him to the ground, while jumping on top of him. The air was pressed out of Garthon's lungs as he let out a surprised and pained groan.
“You little shit!”, he shouted and Garthon saw that the woman from the tavern was standing at the window, carefully watching their fight. George had a hand on the hilt of his sword, ready to intervene if possible. By the Drowned God, hopefully it wouldn't come that far! “Little Fishcunt you are! I'm going to teach you some manners!”, Velmont screamed and Garthon had to give him credit for staying in his role despite his obvious anger and pain. At least until Velmont's fist hit him in the face, almost causing him to blacken out. “You fucking bastard broke my nose!”, Velmont shouted, hitting him again, this time causing him to nearly black out.
“Role...”, Garthon managed to utter weakly as Velmont raised his hand again. The riverlander showed no mercy, hitting Garthon's temple with his closed fist. “Fuck... Velmont...”, Garthon mumbled again, feeling his senses numbing. Velmont Redloon wasn't exactly taller or stronger than him, but unlike Garthon, he was furious and that gave him a frightening advantage. Garthon managed to land a punch in his opponent's face, which barely slowed him down. Maybe he was a bit too much in his role! Like a hammer, Velmont hit him in the face again, this time hitting Garthon's cheek.
The faint sound of steel being drawn reached Garthon's ears. Velmont paused for a moment and looked over his shoulder. George had drawn his sword, pointing it at Velmont, his face distorted with anger. “Get. Away. From him”, he pressed out with clenched teeth, his sword slightly shaking with anger. Velmont let out a small chuckle and to Garthon's surprise he raised. Immediately, he took a deep breath, cold air filling his lungs again.
“What do you want, runt?”, Velmont growled, putting a hand on his belt, grabbing the hilt of a small knife. “Do you want a fight? Do you want me to kill you?” He was breathing heavily, but Garthon saw him slowly cooling down a bit. Still fighting the growing urge to slip into unconsciousness, he attempted to get to his knees, but fell down to his side again, the numbing feeling in his face almost causing him to loose consciousness. “This is madness, Velmont”, he mumbled and Redloon looked at him. “This is fucking madness and you know it. You took it too far”
Velmont gave him a furious glare. “I took... I took it too far?”, he exclaimed, wiping a bit off blood off from his nose. He looked at George again, who still stood with his sword in hand, ready to fight. And he let out a sigh, taking a step closer towards Garthon. “I told you not to hit me in the face. Better think about something to make up for it, you asshole, or else you will regret that”, he growled, before kneeling down next to him, grabbing him at the collar. “You will regret it.”
He pulled Garthon back to his feet and narrowed his eyes. “The king will hear of this. Only thing that might calm him down will be that Trident bitch in the tavern. Better bring her back to Harrenhal for... further interrogation” With these words he finally let go of Garthon and looked at George. “Next time you point that toothpick at me will be the last time you will point it at anyone”, he growled and started to walk away, to the inn's stables. “See you fuckers in Harrenhal!”, he shouted and entered the building.
George shook his head and took a step closer towards Garthon. “Asshole”, he mumbled. “Are you okay, Garthon?” His face got a worried expression as Garthon needed a moment to give him a nod. “It's okay”, he answered and smiled at the boy. “Thanks to you” George's face lit up as he heard the compliment. “I was afraid he would kill you”, he said and Garthon shook his head. “He probably wouldn't have. Let's go inside, I could kill for a beer”
His legs were slightly shaking as he was walking into the tavern, where the brown-haired girl was still standing at the window. The Harper had stopped playing and was sitting at the table, together with the other man. The girl gave him a worried look, visibly less hostile than before. “Is everything alright, good man?”, she asked with concern in her voice. “You look horrible” As she had said that, she opened her eyes widely. “I mean... not horrible in that way. But you're bleeding!”
“It's nothing”, Garthon answered, even though he clearly felt otherwise. His last fight had been a while back and he knew he had underestimated Velmont. Without George's help, he would have lost for sure. “He just took me by surprise”
“Well, you took him by surprise too”, the Harper answered. “Tell me, how do you know Velmont Redloon?” Unlike the girl, he sounded a bit more cautious, almost distrustful. If Garthon had any intention to rat these possible traitors out to the king, he would have been wary around this guy. But he wouldn't do that. Perhaps these people could even be allies in his attempt to kill the king. After all, if they are indeed parts of the Sons of the Trident, they had a lot more experience in defiance than he had.
“We live at the same castle”, he answered and decided to tell them at least part of the truth. “Harrenhal” He saw their faces dropping and quickly raised his hands. “No need for hostilities. I'm in no shape for that anyway. My name is Garthon Breaker”
The Harper pointed at a free chair next to him. “My name is Jon. This charming young lady is Dacey and the man next to me is Jared”, he explained as Garthon sat down. George gave Dacey a shy smile and Garthon suppressed the urge to roll with his eyes. She wasn't bad looking, but there were plenty of better girls available. Terrible timing to develop a crush. “I... I am George”, he introduced himself. “George Rivers” Garthon was surprised to hear him using the bastard name he technically wasn't entitled to use, but at the same time he was impressed as he realized the boys reason behind it. The girl flashed him a smile and the Harper seemed to be pleased. “A Rivers is always welcome among us”, he said. “Jared here is a Rivers too, albeit he prefers to be a Hunter now. And I was born a Rivers too”
Jared slightly grinned as the Harper mentioned him. “We can't really choose our surnames, right? What was your quarrel with Velmont Redloon?”, he asked and looked at Garthon. “I insulted him. You have heard about him, right? It's quite easy to insult him”, he answered and at least in his ears he sounded convincing. These people probably wouldn't react kindly to learn that he was ordered to rat them out, no matter the fact that he never intended to go through with that. “Said some thoughtless line about his mother”
This caused Jared to laugh. “Son of a bitch”, he chuckled. “He got you bad. Need a mirror?” Garthon shook his head. “Not the first time my face get's bloody”, he answered and immediately regretted it as the Harper gave him a slightly hostile look. “What exactly are you two doing for a living?”, he asked. Now, that was an interesting question. Somehow, Garthon was pretty sure that 'Raider' wasn't the answer these people wanted to hear.
George answered first, slightly surprising Garthon with his initiative. “I am a guard in service of Lord Edmyn Tully”, he explained with pride in his voice. This seemed to please Jon again. “Tully is a good and honest man, but he lacks initiative. He cowers under the tyrant, but he has not lost all of his honour, like the lords Bracken, Darry or Frey have”
“Tyrant, eh?”, Garthon said. “Dangerous word to use these days” Jon attempted to say something, but Dacey was quicker. “It's the truth”, she said and Garthon had to shake his head. That girl spoke to quickly. Someone else would have ripped out her tongue by now. Luckily for her, he wasn't someone else.
“Harren Hoare and his sons bleed the kingdom dry with their tyranny. Harrenhal isn't even the worst thing he did in the past forty years”, she insisted and Garthon shook his head. “You are talking too much, girl”, he hissed. “You are lucky that Velmont decided to leave after I broke his nose”
She shrugged. “If he would have heard me, I would have put an arrow right between his eyes”, she claimed and was about to say something, when the Harper silenced her. “Enough, Dacey. It's true, Garthon, we are not happy with the current state of the Riverlands. It's not a crime to be unhappy, right?”, he said and his voice got a dangerous tone.
Garthon looked him straight in the eye. “Being unhappy isn't a crime. Being a rebel on the other hand...”, he said and Dacey's startled gaze gave her away. “You are part of the Sons of the Trident, right?”, Garthon added and awaited an answer.
“Who are you, Garthon? Why are you here today?”, Jon the Harper asked and moved his hand under the table. Garthon looked at George, who barely noticeable shook his head.
[Tell them the full truth][Tell them the truth but claim that you are a Riverlander][Tell them a lie]
Kersea
She lay on the beach, hearing the waves, watching the first rays of sun after a long, dark night. Kersea always loved watching the sun rising above the Sunset Sea. Her parents small farmhouse was located on the western coast of the North. On good days, she had been able to see Bear Island. The Sunset Sea was still the same, but nowadays there was rarely a good day. And the remote coast of Bear Island appeared like a distant dream to her.
She had done it again. Killed someone. Tried to enjoy it. And to her horror, she hadn't failed entirely. Up until she heard those screams. Jenna Harking... poor girl. Was she still alive? Kersea could have done something, either helping Wolfius in satisfying his sick desires, or she could have given Jenna a quick death, but... her screams...
Five years ago everything changed for her. She still remembered the day as if it happened yesterday. She had been watching the sunrise with Briar and caught some fish for dinner. Her mother had been a good cook, despite the fact that they had nearly nothing. And when Kersea came home... She remembered the man, standing there over the bodies of her parents, a man two heads taller and twice as broad as she had been. He had given her a completely indifferent look as she had started to scream. And then he had attacked her. It had been a miracle that she survived. A lot of luck, albeit she wouldn't exactly consider herself lucky. She had killed the man. She had buried her parents. A day later, she had met Clayton and her old life ended. She had to replace the man she killed, the man who had killed her parents. She was a natural talent, as Clayton put it. A born killer. In the last five years, she had lived up to his hopes for her. But there was one thing he had never prepared her for, one thing she never had to be prepared for. Screams. The panicked screams of dying people. A good assassin never heard a single scream in his whole life. And Jenna's screams... they had reminded her of her own. Of Briar's screams as she had been taken away.
Kersea had left Wolfius, but she felt no regret about that. No, she hoped for his death. The outcome of this day had been his fault as well as hers. His aggressive approach had forced her to kill this young guardsman, right? She felt warm tears running down her cheek. She couldn't deny her fault in this mess. Her attempt to control the beast had been foolish and doomed to fail. Perhaps Richard Harking had killed him. Hopefully...
She had to chuckle as she thought this, a completely joyless chuckle. Hope. What a terrible joke. Clayton taught her to kill, but he taught her even more that there was no hope for her. The only hope he left for her was hope for Briar. Kersea closed her eyes as she couldn't stand the sight of the Sunset Sea anymore. As long as the sun was rising for Clayton, there wouldn't be a good day for her.
She looked up to the morning sky. The sun was rising for her. Wiping her tears away, she rose to her feet again. If there would be any justice left in this world, Clayton would pay for every life he forced her to end. But he taught her that there was no justice. There was only one person who would ever pay for tonight and she had no illusions about who it would be. Perhaps her eventual death would be some sort of justice at least. Until then, all she could do was to carry on. And for now she had to get back to the warehouse. She had to face Clayton and she had to tell him about what she did. He would probably hit her. She probably deserved it.
As she walked down the beach, she took one last look at the castle. She understood that their actions in Raylansfair were meant to destabilize the whole town. But there wasn't much to destabilize. Clayton had almost destroyed this town on his own. Killing the old lord and the Maester had been enough for the overly ambitious castellan to rise to power. Perhaps he would be the next target. Alysanne would probably kill him. She was begging Clayton to give her someone to kill for weeks now.
Kersea passed the Sept and not for the first time she asked herself which of the seven hells would be awaiting her after her death. Probably not the seventh. The seventh was reserved for traitors, whereas Kersea's last bit of pride was her loyalty to her sister. If she was lucky, it would be the third. The third was for murderers. She would wait there for Clayton. For Alysanne. For Wolfius. Maybe her dead friend Raenna would wait for her. The only thing that she regretted was that Briar would be alone. Yes, it was probably the third hell for her.
It didn't take her very long to get back to the warehouse. In the past weeks she had learned to navigate in this bad joke of a town. The only thing that was unusual was the large amount of guards patrolling the streets. But no one suspected a young, unarmed woman to be a trained killer. She knew, they were looking for Wolfius and she hoped they would find him. But deep down, she knew this hope was futile. Men like him, men like Clayton or Butterfly, they would never get what they deserve. Only their pawns, people like Briar, like Raenna, like herself were the ones who would suffer for their actions.
As she entered the warehouse she saw Alysanne sitting at a small table, probably just finishing her breakfast. She was wearing a shirt without sleeves and Kersea saw the ugly scars disfiguring her left arm, signs of the last time one of their missions failed. Blackwater Bay. Half of their group had died on that day, including her friend Raenna. Now there were only Alysanne and Clayton left. And herself of course...
Alysanne raised her head and looked at her with her fair green eyes. They would have been pretty, if the look in them wouldn't be so cold, so broken. “Good morning, puppy”, she said far too cheerfully. “What took you so long?” Kersea walked closer towards her and Alysanne's smile vanished, replaced by some sort of concern. “Everything alright?”, she asked. Kersea shook her head, holding back the tears again, trying to avoid looking at Alysanne. “What happened?”
This caused her to look up and straight into Alysanne's eyes. A hint of warmth was seen in them. They weren't the almost violet eyes Raenna had, with their soft and soothing look. But it was the kindest gesture anyone had given to Kersea in two months and it almost caused her to sob. Even though she didn't want it, she felt tears running down her cheeks again. And then Alysanne did something unexpected. She gave her a hug.
The gesture surprised Kersea enough to make her accept it. For one moment she rested her head on Alysanne's unburned shoulder, as the other woman clumsily patted her back. “Shhh, puppy. Everything is alright. Things will get brighter”, Alysanne whispered and Kersea finally pulled away from her. “What are you doing, Alysanne?”, she asked.
The other woman looked at her left hand, freshly bandaged. “I'm comforting you. I have seen this before. That's what friends do, right?”, she asked. What she said shook Kersea deeply. Alysanne was born as a slave, raised in fighting pits, sold to a brothel. At least Kersea had lived a normal life for twenty years and knew what true friendship was. But Alysanne... she was like a child in that matter. Hearing these words, despite the circumstances, despite all that happened to both of them and knowing that Alysanne believed them to be true almost broke her heart.
“What happened to you?”, Alysanne asked. Kersea gulped. “The mission failed. Partially. My target is dead. Wolfius' girl probably lives”, she answered briefly. Alysanne narrowed her eyes. “And Wolfius?”, she asked. Again, the attempt to sound genuinely concerned. Sometimes, Kersea tought that Alysanne was a cold sociopath and a bad actor. But the tragedy behind it was that she was a cold sociopath who failed to realize it.
“I don't know. Maybe he's dead”, she answered and almost genuine worry flashed across Alysanne's face. “I hope not”, she whispered and sounded meek for a moment.
“Where's Clayton?”, Kersea asked, looking to the stairs leading upstairs. Alysanne shrugged. “He left to search for a new location. With all these guardsmen around, he decided to change hideouts for now. He should be back soon”, she answered and looked her in the eyes. “He was very concerned about your absence. We both were” A part of Kersea wanted to believe her. But the rational part of her knew that neither of them were concerned for her. There was only one person left in this world who would be affected by her death.
“Kersea, can I ask you a question?”, Alysanne asked suddenly. She sounded curious, surprisingly playful. “There is something on my mind. Ever since Blackwater. It's about us” Kersea gave her a short nod. “Ask your question, Alysanne”, she answered.
“You know, now that Raenna is dead”, Alysanne said as if she was talking about the weather. The mention of her dead friends name sent a sharp sting of regret through Kersea. “I have asked myself, if... you know... if we could be friends now. Like you and Raenna” Kersea closed her eyes. Not like her and Raenna, no. Never again. Alysanne could never mean as much for her as Raenna did.
“I can understand if you say no. Maybe I just have to try harder. But I want you to be honest with me. Do you think we could be friends? I'd like to have friend. And I guess you could use one too. At least that's something Raenna has told me years ago. So... despite all the things that happened, the things that maybe stand between us... would you consider us friends?”, the woman asked and the look in her eyes was pleading, more befitting to a little girl. Part of Kersea wanted to affirm, if only out of pity. Another part of Kersea wanted to abnegate, also out of pity, but also out of anger for everything that happened. Yes, she could need a friend. They both could. But a friend like Alysanne? It wouldn't be a real friendship. It wouldn't be good. But maybe it would be good enough.
Garthon
Holding back? Velmont Redloon dared to ask him to hold back? The thought was amusing, as well as outraging. If anyone would deser… moreve a little thrashing, it would be that guy! A fish who tried to be iron! He wanted a fight and he would get it! Ironborn never held back! Or at least not for scum like Velmont Redloon...
“So, Breaker what do you...”, Velmont started to say but was cut off when Garthon punched him in the face. He heard a satisfying crunch and saw his opponent staggering backwards, bellowing in pain. “You fucking...”, he exclaimed, but Garthon was faster and punched him again, again in the face, further damaging the man's nose, almost sending him to the ground this time. Instead of going down however, Velmont let out an angry howl and charged towards Garthon, grabbing him and throwing him to the ground, while jumping on top of him. The air was pressed out of Garthon's lungs as he let out a surprised and pained groan.
… [view original content]
Garthon
Holding back? Velmont Redloon dared to ask him to hold back? The thought was amusing, as well as outraging. If anyone would deser… moreve a little thrashing, it would be that guy! A fish who tried to be iron! He wanted a fight and he would get it! Ironborn never held back! Or at least not for scum like Velmont Redloon...
“So, Breaker what do you...”, Velmont started to say but was cut off when Garthon punched him in the face. He heard a satisfying crunch and saw his opponent staggering backwards, bellowing in pain. “You fucking...”, he exclaimed, but Garthon was faster and punched him again, again in the face, further damaging the man's nose, almost sending him to the ground this time. Instead of going down however, Velmont let out an angry howl and charged towards Garthon, grabbing him and throwing him to the ground, while jumping on top of him. The air was pressed out of Garthon's lungs as he let out a surprised and pained groan.
… [view original content]
Garthon
Holding back? Velmont Redloon dared to ask him to hold back? The thought was amusing, as well as outraging. If anyone would deser… moreve a little thrashing, it would be that guy! A fish who tried to be iron! He wanted a fight and he would get it! Ironborn never held back! Or at least not for scum like Velmont Redloon...
“So, Breaker what do you...”, Velmont started to say but was cut off when Garthon punched him in the face. He heard a satisfying crunch and saw his opponent staggering backwards, bellowing in pain. “You fucking...”, he exclaimed, but Garthon was faster and punched him again, again in the face, further damaging the man's nose, almost sending him to the ground this time. Instead of going down however, Velmont let out an angry howl and charged towards Garthon, grabbing him and throwing him to the ground, while jumping on top of him. The air was pressed out of Garthon's lungs as he let out a surprised and pained groan.
… [view original content]
Garthon
Holding back? Velmont Redloon dared to ask him to hold back? The thought was amusing, as well as outraging. If anyone would deser… moreve a little thrashing, it would be that guy! A fish who tried to be iron! He wanted a fight and he would get it! Ironborn never held back! Or at least not for scum like Velmont Redloon...
“So, Breaker what do you...”, Velmont started to say but was cut off when Garthon punched him in the face. He heard a satisfying crunch and saw his opponent staggering backwards, bellowing in pain. “You fucking...”, he exclaimed, but Garthon was faster and punched him again, again in the face, further damaging the man's nose, almost sending him to the ground this time. Instead of going down however, Velmont let out an angry howl and charged towards Garthon, grabbing him and throwing him to the ground, while jumping on top of him. The air was pressed out of Garthon's lungs as he let out a surprised and pained groan.
… [view original content]
Garthon
Holding back? Velmont Redloon dared to ask him to hold back? The thought was amusing, as well as outraging. If anyone would deser… moreve a little thrashing, it would be that guy! A fish who tried to be iron! He wanted a fight and he would get it! Ironborn never held back! Or at least not for scum like Velmont Redloon...
“So, Breaker what do you...”, Velmont started to say but was cut off when Garthon punched him in the face. He heard a satisfying crunch and saw his opponent staggering backwards, bellowing in pain. “You fucking...”, he exclaimed, but Garthon was faster and punched him again, again in the face, further damaging the man's nose, almost sending him to the ground this time. Instead of going down however, Velmont let out an angry howl and charged towards Garthon, grabbing him and throwing him to the ground, while jumping on top of him. The air was pressed out of Garthon's lungs as he let out a surprised and pained groan.
… [view original content]
Garthon
Holding back? Velmont Redloon dared to ask him to hold back? The thought was amusing, as well as outraging. If anyone would deser… moreve a little thrashing, it would be that guy! A fish who tried to be iron! He wanted a fight and he would get it! Ironborn never held back! Or at least not for scum like Velmont Redloon...
“So, Breaker what do you...”, Velmont started to say but was cut off when Garthon punched him in the face. He heard a satisfying crunch and saw his opponent staggering backwards, bellowing in pain. “You fucking...”, he exclaimed, but Garthon was faster and punched him again, again in the face, further damaging the man's nose, almost sending him to the ground this time. Instead of going down however, Velmont let out an angry howl and charged towards Garthon, grabbing him and throwing him to the ground, while jumping on top of him. The air was pressed out of Garthon's lungs as he let out a surprised and pained groan.
… [view original content]
Garthon
Holding back? Velmont Redloon dared to ask him to hold back? The thought was amusing, as well as outraging. If anyone would deser… moreve a little thrashing, it would be that guy! A fish who tried to be iron! He wanted a fight and he would get it! Ironborn never held back! Or at least not for scum like Velmont Redloon...
“So, Breaker what do you...”, Velmont started to say but was cut off when Garthon punched him in the face. He heard a satisfying crunch and saw his opponent staggering backwards, bellowing in pain. “You fucking...”, he exclaimed, but Garthon was faster and punched him again, again in the face, further damaging the man's nose, almost sending him to the ground this time. Instead of going down however, Velmont let out an angry howl and charged towards Garthon, grabbing him and throwing him to the ground, while jumping on top of him. The air was pressed out of Garthon's lungs as he let out a surprised and pained groan.
… [view original content]
Garthon
Holding back? Velmont Redloon dared to ask him to hold back? The thought was amusing, as well as outraging. If anyone would deser… moreve a little thrashing, it would be that guy! A fish who tried to be iron! He wanted a fight and he would get it! Ironborn never held back! Or at least not for scum like Velmont Redloon...
“So, Breaker what do you...”, Velmont started to say but was cut off when Garthon punched him in the face. He heard a satisfying crunch and saw his opponent staggering backwards, bellowing in pain. “You fucking...”, he exclaimed, but Garthon was faster and punched him again, again in the face, further damaging the man's nose, almost sending him to the ground this time. Instead of going down however, Velmont let out an angry howl and charged towards Garthon, grabbing him and throwing him to the ground, while jumping on top of him. The air was pressed out of Garthon's lungs as he let out a surprised and pained groan.
… [view original content]
Garthon
Holding back? Velmont Redloon dared to ask him to hold back? The thought was amusing, as well as outraging. If anyone would deser… moreve a little thrashing, it would be that guy! A fish who tried to be iron! He wanted a fight and he would get it! Ironborn never held back! Or at least not for scum like Velmont Redloon...
“So, Breaker what do you...”, Velmont started to say but was cut off when Garthon punched him in the face. He heard a satisfying crunch and saw his opponent staggering backwards, bellowing in pain. “You fucking...”, he exclaimed, but Garthon was faster and punched him again, again in the face, further damaging the man's nose, almost sending him to the ground this time. Instead of going down however, Velmont let out an angry howl and charged towards Garthon, grabbing him and throwing him to the ground, while jumping on top of him. The air was pressed out of Garthon's lungs as he let out a surprised and pained groan.
… [view original content]
Garthon
Holding back? Velmont Redloon dared to ask him to hold back? The thought was amusing, as well as outraging. If anyone would deser… moreve a little thrashing, it would be that guy! A fish who tried to be iron! He wanted a fight and he would get it! Ironborn never held back! Or at least not for scum like Velmont Redloon...
“So, Breaker what do you...”, Velmont started to say but was cut off when Garthon punched him in the face. He heard a satisfying crunch and saw his opponent staggering backwards, bellowing in pain. “You fucking...”, he exclaimed, but Garthon was faster and punched him again, again in the face, further damaging the man's nose, almost sending him to the ground this time. Instead of going down however, Velmont let out an angry howl and charged towards Garthon, grabbing him and throwing him to the ground, while jumping on top of him. The air was pressed out of Garthon's lungs as he let out a surprised and pained groan.
… [view original content]
I think that telling he's a local to a bunch of natives is probably not such a good idea since it's not that hard to figure out that Garthon is obviously not a Riverlander(also not so hard to see that he's likely an Ironborn) so just [Tell them the full truth] and I hope they won't execute him lol
Garthon
Holding back? Velmont Redloon dared to ask him to hold back? The thought was amusing, as well as outraging. If anyone would deser… moreve a little thrashing, it would be that guy! A fish who tried to be iron! He wanted a fight and he would get it! Ironborn never held back! Or at least not for scum like Velmont Redloon...
“So, Breaker what do you...”, Velmont started to say but was cut off when Garthon punched him in the face. He heard a satisfying crunch and saw his opponent staggering backwards, bellowing in pain. “You fucking...”, he exclaimed, but Garthon was faster and punched him again, again in the face, further damaging the man's nose, almost sending him to the ground this time. Instead of going down however, Velmont let out an angry howl and charged towards Garthon, grabbing him and throwing him to the ground, while jumping on top of him. The air was pressed out of Garthon's lungs as he let out a surprised and pained groan.
… [view original content]
I'm sorry for not finishing the part yesterday. I have a few exams at university this week and next week, as well as a lot of birthdays in my circle of friends, so I had little time to write in the last days. Luckily, the exams are mostly stuff like Marketing. Seriously, a mentally challenged manatee could get top grades in Marketing, it sometimes reminds me of pre-school. Unfortunately, there will also be an accounting exam coming up next week and accounting is comparable to a mixture of Ubisoft, King Joffrey and Kanye West, except that is is a lot more douchy than these three combined. I will try my best to get the second-worst grade in this accounting exam and will consider this a tremendous success. Seriously friends, if you have a choice, don't study accounting.
Anyways, I'll try my best to finish this new part later today!
Bro you don't need to worry we get it. Infact of all the stories i joined none have posted and i perfectly understand. Heck i havent even started mine (but thats partially since im waiting for some friends to post chars).
The Voting is closed!
Garthon will tell them the full truth
Kersea will tell Alysanne that they are friends
I'm sorry for not finis… morehing the part yesterday. I have a few exams at university this week and next week, as well as a lot of birthdays in my circle of friends, so I had little time to write in the last days. Luckily, the exams are mostly stuff like Marketing. Seriously, a mentally challenged manatee could get top grades in Marketing, it sometimes reminds me of pre-school. Unfortunately, there will also be an accounting exam coming up next week and accounting is comparable to a mixture of Ubisoft, King Joffrey and Kanye West, except that is is a lot more douchy than these three combined. I will try my best to get the second-worst grade in this accounting exam and will consider this a tremendous success. Seriously friends, if you have a choice, don't study accounting.
Anyways, I'll try my best to finish this new part later today!
Still, I feel a bit bad when leaving you hanging longer than usual without explanation. By the way, I'm still writing my characters for your story, as a result of my unusually busy schedule I hadn't had time to finish them. But I hope to finish them this weekend
Bro you don't need to worry we get it. Infact of all the stories i joined none have posted and i perfectly understand. Heck i havent even started mine (but thats partially since im waiting for some friends to post chars).
No probs we get it. Also take your time i can wait. Also make sure you enjoy them some characters can spend 5-6 eps with no death choices so they're going to live a LONG time if they die at all.
Still, I feel a bit bad when leaving you hanging longer than usual without explanation. By the way, I'm still writing my characters for your… more story, as a result of my unusually busy schedule I hadn't had time to finish them. But I hope to finish them this weekend
Garthon
Holding back? Velmont Redloon dared to ask him to hold back? The thought was amusing, as well as outraging. If anyone would deser… moreve a little thrashing, it would be that guy! A fish who tried to be iron! He wanted a fight and he would get it! Ironborn never held back! Or at least not for scum like Velmont Redloon...
“So, Breaker what do you...”, Velmont started to say but was cut off when Garthon punched him in the face. He heard a satisfying crunch and saw his opponent staggering backwards, bellowing in pain. “You fucking...”, he exclaimed, but Garthon was faster and punched him again, again in the face, further damaging the man's nose, almost sending him to the ground this time. Instead of going down however, Velmont let out an angry howl and charged towards Garthon, grabbing him and throwing him to the ground, while jumping on top of him. The air was pressed out of Garthon's lungs as he let out a surprised and pained groan.
… [view original content]
Prince Harmund's first arrow hit the fleeing man's horse in the leg, sending it to the ground. The man wasted no time and even managed to land on his feet as his horse collapsed below him. He ran with an agility that was incredible for his advanced age, as the hounds reached the horse, starting to tear the dying animal apart. If he would have chosen to sidestep, he would have lived, he would have managed to reach the forest, where the horses would have been unable to follow. But he chose to run in a straight line towards safety, at least until Rell Vessels managed to hit him in the leg with his arrow. Harmund lowered his bow, turned around and gave Rell a fiendish grin.
“Good shot”, he shouted. “Next time try to hit him in the spine, slightly above his arse. The sounds they make when they realize they can't move their legs anymore...” This statement caused laughter from his underlings, albeit Harlan laughed the loudest. “Priceless”, the younger prince stated.
Harmund descended from his horse and his men did the same. Torvin gave Harlan a short look and the prince answered with a nod, signalizing him to join Harmund and his group, who started to gather around the wounded man. Two hounds, large beasts, their hair almost as black as Harmund's, albeit with a temper far less vicious, surrounded him, growling menacingly every time he tried to move. The horses blood stained their snouts. These beasts were absolutely obedient to Harmund, cowering in fear every time he made a sudden movement. Torvin had seen this behaviour in most of the people around him. The only one who seemed to be slightly less afraid was Rell, who seemed to be more like a brother to Harmund than Harlan could ever hope to be.
Torvin looked at Hjalgar, who was walking to his right. Ever since Torvin showed even the slightest sign of sympathy for the boy, he stayed near him, as if he felt a bit safer with Torvin around. Bloody fool! Torvin knew, he couldn't protect Hjalgar from Harmund Hoare's wrath and he wouldn't even try to do it.
Gabin was walking to his left. He was the only member of the hunting party who refused to use a bow, instead preferring to simply ride with them. Like Hjalgar, he had went pale the moment Harmund had spotted the lone rider on his horse. Everything would have been fine if the rider would have stayed calm. But the moment he saw Harmund approaching, he decided to do something very dumb and spur his horse. There were few things that managed to make Harmund Hoare as excited as the prospect of a good hunt, except a good rape perhaps.
“This is sick”, Hjalgar mumbled as he was slowly approaching the circle of Ironborn that had gathered around the wounded man. “This is fucking sick” He looked at Torvin. “What if they decide to hunt us instead?” Torvin shook his head. “They won't”, he answered. “And you should keep your voice down if you want it to remain that way”
Gabin let out a sigh. “Poor idiot”, he mumbled bleakly. “He almost made it. But Rell is a terrific archer” Hjalgar shook his head. “I've seen better”, he admitted. “And I am better” He looked at the Ironborn. “But don't tell them I've said that”, he added hastily. Gabin let out a snorting laugh. “Come on, Hjalgar. You're a good archer? Better than Rell Vessels?”, he asked, but his voice showed pure sarcasm. “Well, I am!”, Hjalgar insisted and Torvin shook his head. What a bloody fool he was... nobody liked show-offs and Rell Vessels was no difference. Hopefully he wouldn't hear them.
The sound of a blade being drawn caused him to shift his attention to Harmund Hoare again. They were close enough to see the fear in the wounded mans eyes, as the prince pointed his longsword at him. “You tried to run, little fish”, Harmund growled. “You should have run faster” He moved his sword down, the tip of the blade scratching the man's chest.“Please...”, the man stuttered. “Please, mercy!” Torvin closed his eyes. Not this again...
“Mercy?”, Harmund asked. “You dare asking me for mercy?” He raised his blade again and the man flinched and closed his eyes, wimpering something. Instead of killing him with a single blow, the prince kicked him against the chin instead with his heavy boot, causing the man to howl in pain, as he spat several of his teeth on the ground. “Come on...”, Harmund whispered. “Ask me again. This is an order”
Tears were flowing out of the man's eyes, just as blood was flowing out of his mouth. “M... Mercy... Mercy!”, he cried. Harmund looked at his younger brother, his mouth forming a cold smile. “Harlan”, he said with a loud tone, enough to make Harlan flinch. “Yes, brother?”, he answered, his voice shifting between fear and excitement. Harmund took a step closer towards him. “You like kicking them while they are down, isn't that right?” Harlan gave him an insecure nod and Harmund pointed at the man. “Only once, brother”
Harlan's face beamed up with joy as he brutally kicked the man in the stomach, causing Hjalgar to turn away from the scenery. Harmund wasn't even noticing it, but Torvin saw that Rell narrowed his eyes. He had heard about Rell Vessels and his talent in uncovering treason. Besides being the son of one of the Iron Fleet's most respected captains and being one of the crown prince's accomplices, he was also part of Harren Hoare's intelligence network. He had to be wary around him.
“I said only once, you fucking inbreed!”, Harmund shouted and prevented Harlan from kicking the wailing man a second time. “I have a few questions for him and need him alive for that!” He pointed his sword at the man's throat again. “You know who I am?”, he asked. The man gave him a slight nod. “Prince Harmund Hoare”, he answered with fear in his voice, his speech slurring from the loss of several teeth.
Harmund gave him a pleased nod. “Very good. What is your name, fish?”, he demanded to know. The man shivered. “Tomard, my prince. I am a farmhand at Lincoln's farm” The prince raised an eyebrow. “And why exactly is a farmhand riding through this particular night? Haven't they told you to lock your doors and douse your candles? Haven't they told you what happens if you attempt to run from me?” His voice got lower, more threatening. Torvin closed his eyes. This man was dead. This would end badly...
“Lincoln tasked me in...”, the man started but stopped. “He... he asked me to...” He closed his eyes, tears running down his face. “Please, my prince, I will tell you, but don't kill me”, he pleaded. To Torvin's surprise, Harmund gave him a nod and put his sword away. “Alright. I accept your terms. Tell me everything I want to know and I swear I won't kill you, by the Drowned God and by House Hoare, I swear it”
The man made the problem of trusting Harmund. “Thank you, my prince. I will tell you everything!”, he exclaimed. “Lincoln owns a small farm a few miles down the road. He pays you for... for getting spared” Harmund interrupted him by looking at Rell who gave him a nod. “It's true, my prince. This man pays us a nice sum of money so that we don't visit his farm”, he explained.
Harmund looked at the old man again, who continued to talk. “I am tasked with finding young girls from around the area, to bring them to the farm. Lincoln keeps them safe until dawn, until you are back at Harrenhal”, he stuttered, his eyes widening as Harmund gave him a cold glare. “How many girls have you brought to the farm tonight?”, he asked. “Five, your grace. And one girl preferred hiding in the forest” The man's voice shivered in terror. Torvin looked at the forst. So, there was one clever girl and five dumb idiots. Wonderful...
“Please, your grace. One of the girls has a newborn child with her. Lincoln can pay you even more. He will pay you all he has if you spare them!”, the man shouted and Harmund visibly resisted the urge to kick him again. “He is paying...”, the prince repeated. “He is indeed paying...” He looked at his men and let out a howling laugh. “Unfortunately he is paying only for himself. And this... He thinks he is so clever, giving me money, so that I spare him and his dumb whores. And all this time he refuses to give me what I really want...”
He looked at Harlan. “Harlan!”, he shouted and the younger prince flinched. “Yes, Harmund?”, he asked. “This fish here told me about a girl who fled into the forest. Do you think we can allow her to escape?” Harlan shook his head. “No, Harmund!”, he answered. The prince gave his younger brother a pleased nod. “Clever boy”, he complimented him. “Me and Rell will travel to Lincoln's farm. You and your pets will chase after this girl. If you get her, you can do whatever you want with her. And then I allow you to follow me to that fucking farm”
Harlan did a good job in hiding his disappointment, but Torvin saw subtle hints in his face. “But...”, he started but was cut off by Harmund's vicious glare. “I understand...”, he mumbled. “I will do as you command, brother!” Harmund gave him a nod. “Of course you will”, he growled. “And now...”
With brutal force, he pulled the man back on his feet. The man let out a shriek as he was forced to put weight on his wounded leg. “My prince, you promised...”, he shouted in panic, but Harmund cut him off. “Indeed, I promised I would never hurt you and I will stay true to my promise. Unfortunately, Rell here never promised anything”
The man let out a scream of terror and started to wet himself. Torvin gave him a disgusted expression. No man should piss himself when faced with his own death. He could at least try to show some dignity.
“One moment, my prince”, Rell said. Harmund gave him a curious look. “You want to say anything?”, the prince growled. “Make it quick, there's a farm filled with beautiful young girls waiting for us!” This statement caused his men to howl in excitement. Rell looked at Hjalgar. “Indeed, my prince... but you remember this thing here? Hjalgar Holgarsson?”, he asked. Harmund gave him a nod as if he just remembered that Hjalgar was even present. “I think I see what you mean...”, he said and his fiendish grin reappeared.
“Hjalgar!”, he shouted and the boy shivered. “Come on, you poor excuse for a living being. Have you ever killed a man?” Hjalgar shook his head and Torvin saw the fear in his eyes. Harmund took a step closer towards him. “It's about time...”, he growled. “Kill this man” Hjalgar gave him a panicked stare, clearly uncomfortable with this situation. Torvin let out a sigh. Hjalgar was no killer. He was afraid. This man there, he deserved at least a clean death. Perhaps Torvin could give him this clean death. A single, quick arrow, a matter of seconds. Perhaps Harmund would even be impressed by his initiative. Or he would be enraged. It was hard to tell how he would react.
[Shoot the man yourself][Encourage Hjalgar to shoot the man]
Marak
So... this was the big castle of Raylansfair? Marak wasn't impressed. He had seen Harrenhal. He had seen Winterfell and Storm's End. But this was hardly a castle. A decent wall, that unfortunately started to crumble on the seaward side. A single tower, not even particularly high. Maybe a garrison of fifty men at most. He had seen the archive from the distance, a large four-story building. According to Noelle it had a lot of it's space underground. Marak never understood the need to build something underground, where it could look so much more impressive above the ground.
Ser Darren had lead them well so far. The knight wasn't particularly talkative and Marak wasn't too sad about this. The knight had looked into the fire and everytime Marak looked him into his green eyes, he saw flames of the same colour dancing behind them. Right now he was talking to the gatekeeper of this castle, while Noelle simply walked inside of the courtyard, Marak following her like a trained dog. He was almost sure that she had bewitched him. There was no other rational explanation! By the Drowned God, as soon as his business with Noelle would be over he wouldn't stop drinking for weeks! And he would probably try to look for work in the North. The Northerners weren't too fond of mercenaries, but he once worked for the old Lady Manderly. Of course she had been fond of him...
“Marak!”, Noelle's voice interrupted his pleasant thoughts. He looked up and saw a sight even more pleasant than the old Lady Manderly... well, even the wall was a more pleasant sight than Lady Manderly, but still, this sight was remarkably pleasant. A young woman had walked in front of them, probably barely twenty years old. Surprisingly, she was wearing armour. A female guard? Now that was something new... She was tall for a woman, but still barely reached his shoulder. Her light brown hair was falling up to her shoulders, but what caught Marak's gaze was her wonderfully ample chest...
“Tough Guy!”, Noelle called him again and Marak quickly raised his stare so that he was able to look the girl in the eyes. They had the same colour as her hair, but looked absolutely furious. “I asked for your name”, she hissed. Marak gave her a charming smile and slightly flexed his muscles. Was she impressed? Yeah, she was clearly impressed! Marak grinned at his triumph...
“Your. Name. Or else you can wait in the pigpen, where you belong”, the woman called him again. Well, perhaps she wasn't that impressed after all. “Greetings, fair lady. My name is Marak”, he introduced himself, smiling at her. She narrowed her eyes and Marak noticed the sword strapped to her hip.
“Marak. And Noelle of Braavos, right?”, the woman repeated, before looking over Noelle's shoulder. “And who are you?”, she asked the approaching Ser Darren. The knight gave her a surprised glare. “Who am I?”, he asked. “Girl, I am Ser Darren Tallwood. Fetch me the captain of the guard, or even better, fetch me Ser Harris”
The unfriendly look on the womans face almost vanished as she heard his name. She slightly bowed her head. “Ser Darren Tallwood!”, she exclaimed. “This is... we thought you are dead!” Ser Darren shook his head. “Well, I am not”, he answered. “And now be a good girl and fetch me the captain”
This time, the slightly more friendly look on her face vanished. “The captain is standing in front of you”, she explained. “Nora Recton, captain of the guard” With these words she nearly bursted with pride and Marak's gaze wandered down her face again. Noelle gave him a slight nudge with her elbow, her uncomfortably warm skin interrupted any pleasant thoughts he could think of.
“Is this some kind of joke? How old are you, girl?”, Ser Darren asked a bit impatiently. The look in her eyes got slightly furious now. “Nineteen”, she answered, causing Ser Darren and Marak to chuckle. “A nineteen year old girl as the captain of the guard?”, the knight asked and almost sounded mocking. But Marak knew, he wasn't mocking her. He was displeased.
“Darren?”, a deep voice called from across the courtyard. The man who was approaching them had a few similarities to Marak's father. A few unsettling similarities. He was tall, almost as tall as Marak and his hair had a similar red colour. And he was at least twice his age. He was wearing an elegant tunic in green and yellow with the sigil of House Raylan on it, a crowned golden book on a field of green. “By the gods, Darren Tallwood!”
The man was approaching Darren, who had a pleased smile on his face, and hugged him brotherly. “We thought you've died months ago!”, the man exclaimed, still surprised. Looking past Darren, he noticed Noelle and Marak and gave them a short and polite nod. “Greetings”, he said. “My name is Harris Flowers, acting lord of Raylansfair”
Noelle made a curtsy in front of him, while Marak simply grinned at him. That was one of the best things at being a mercenary. Nobody expected manners. “Noelle of Braavos, priestess of R'hllor”, the priestess introduced herself. “This is Marak, my bodyguard. We have escorted Ser Darren Tallwood to Raylansfair and now I need to talk to you”
The mention of Rollmop caused Harris to narrow his eyes. “Foreign gods have no place in Raylansfair”, he explained calmly. “If it is religion you want to talk about, I have to decline. But if it is something else, I will gladly talk to you”
This seemed to please Noelle and she smiled one of her breathtakingly hot smiles. “I can assure you, the things we need to talk about are very real and very important”, she explained. Lord Harris gave her a short nod. “Very well. I can spare a few minutes right now. Why don't you and Ser Darren follow me to my chambers?”
With these words he made a short handwave, commanding Darren, Noelle and Marak after him. The cute guard stayed behind, glaring at Marak. Well, he would convince her of his charm sooner or later!
The short conversation the two knights had while walking towards the single tower also revolved around the guard captain, as far as Marak could tell. “A girl!”, Darren hissed angrily. “And so young. I never thought you were a man like that, Harris. Choosing a pretty girl you fancy over someone with actual qualification”
Harris shook his head. “I did not chose Nora because I fancy her, I chose her because she deserved it. She is one of our best fighters. She is loyal to Raylansfair. She is smart and she proved herself in the recent events”, he explained.
Ser Darren still seemed to be sceptical, judging from his facial expression. “And what is with Constantine? He's certainly better than some girl who tries to play knight. He should lead the guard”, he suggested. Harris gave him a nod. “True, Ser Leonard is the better fighter. But Ser Leonard is not here. He is on his way south together with Ser Lucas, on a mission of grave importance for Raylansfair”
“And when he comes back?”, Darren asked. Harris shrugged. “Nora is captain of the guard now. Since today, actually. I can't just dishonour her by taking that post away from her. But Ser Leonard will be appropriately rewarded, I'll make sure of that”
“Still, Harris. A girl. Nineteen years old. She has the looks, I give her that. But what about Ilhan? Where is the Impaler?”, Darren asked. “Surely he would have been a better choice. Fuck, even Bannion, that old drunkard would have been a better choice”
Marak noticed something in the lords face. Sorrow perhaps? Regret? “Ilhan is dead”, he mumbled. “Bannion is also dead, murdered only yesterday” He looked up. “We have to talk about many things, old friend. Your position in this household included” With these words he looked at Marak. “And I'd like to talk without some mercenary watching me” Some mercenary? Now what was that supposed to mean?
Harris and Noelle exchanged a short nod and the priestess gave Marak a nod. “It's okay, Marak. Wait in the courtyard. Nothing will happen to me”, she proclaimed. Marak gave her a reluctant nod. Sure, he was glad to get away from her. Still... something about her made it hard for him to leave. Fucking witchcraft! He turned around like a loyal dog and started to walk down to the courtyard. Now... Noelle was talking with the knight she had bewitched and the lord she wanted to bewitch. And he? What was he supposed to do? His gaze fell upon a group of recruits standing on the courtyard. Oddly enough, there was no master-at-arms to train them. What a fucked-up castle had no master-at-arms? He could show them a few tricks. Could get a bit of training himself. And then he saw something else, something much more pleasant. Nora, the so-called captain of the guard was standing near him. She was ignoring him, but perhaps he should start a nice conversation with her. Marak knew she couldn't resist his charm if he would try to talk to her. And he knew a few activities to fill an otherwise boring afternoon...
[Talk with Nora and be charming][Offer to train the recruits]
Torvin
Prince Harmund's first arrow hit the fleeing man's horse in the leg, sending it to the ground. The man wasted no time and even man… moreaged to land on his feet as his horse collapsed below him. He ran with an agility that was incredible for his advanced age, as the hounds reached the horse, starting to tear the dying animal apart. If he would have chosen to sidestep, he would have lived, he would have managed to reach the forest, where the horses would have been unable to follow. But he chose to run in a straight line towards safety, at least until Rell Vessels managed to hit him in the leg with his arrow. Harmund lowered his bow, turned around and gave Rell a fiendish grin.
“Good shot”, he shouted. “Next time try to hit him in the spine, slightly above his arse. The sounds they make when they realize they can't move their legs anymore...” This statement caused laughter from his underlings, albeit Harlan laughed the loudest. “Priceles… [view original content]
Yes, Darren was in House Raylan's service for many years, he was actually the personal bodyguard of Lord Raylan. He left to chase a group of assassins who are responsible for killing his family. It has been heavily implied that these have been Clayton's assassins and at least according to Darren, his families death was only meant to lure him away from Lord Raylan, so that Clayton got an easy kill. After Darren lost track of the assassins near Blackwater Bay, he returned to Raylansfair and now seems to intend to join the household again.
[Encourage Hjalgar to shoot the man] Grow a pair.
[Talk with Nora and be charming] Get some information, maybe some rewards.....
Bu… moret Ser Leonard will be appropriately rewarded”
You bet your ass he will be.
So was Darren a knight of Raylansfsir right? I forget.
Torvin
Prince Harmund's first arrow hit the fleeing man's horse in the leg, sending it to the ground. The man wasted no time and even man… moreaged to land on his feet as his horse collapsed below him. He ran with an agility that was incredible for his advanced age, as the hounds reached the horse, starting to tear the dying animal apart. If he would have chosen to sidestep, he would have lived, he would have managed to reach the forest, where the horses would have been unable to follow. But he chose to run in a straight line towards safety, at least until Rell Vessels managed to hit him in the leg with his arrow. Harmund lowered his bow, turned around and gave Rell a fiendish grin.
“Good shot”, he shouted. “Next time try to hit him in the spine, slightly above his arse. The sounds they make when they realize they can't move their legs anymore...” This statement caused laughter from his underlings, albeit Harlan laughed the loudest. “Priceles… [view original content]
Torvin
Prince Harmund's first arrow hit the fleeing man's horse in the leg, sending it to the ground. The man wasted no time and even man… moreaged to land on his feet as his horse collapsed below him. He ran with an agility that was incredible for his advanced age, as the hounds reached the horse, starting to tear the dying animal apart. If he would have chosen to sidestep, he would have lived, he would have managed to reach the forest, where the horses would have been unable to follow. But he chose to run in a straight line towards safety, at least until Rell Vessels managed to hit him in the leg with his arrow. Harmund lowered his bow, turned around and gave Rell a fiendish grin.
“Good shot”, he shouted. “Next time try to hit him in the spine, slightly above his arse. The sounds they make when they realize they can't move their legs anymore...” This statement caused laughter from his underlings, albeit Harlan laughed the loudest. “Priceles… [view original content]
Torvin
Prince Harmund's first arrow hit the fleeing man's horse in the leg, sending it to the ground. The man wasted no time and even man… moreaged to land on his feet as his horse collapsed below him. He ran with an agility that was incredible for his advanced age, as the hounds reached the horse, starting to tear the dying animal apart. If he would have chosen to sidestep, he would have lived, he would have managed to reach the forest, where the horses would have been unable to follow. But he chose to run in a straight line towards safety, at least until Rell Vessels managed to hit him in the leg with his arrow. Harmund lowered his bow, turned around and gave Rell a fiendish grin.
“Good shot”, he shouted. “Next time try to hit him in the spine, slightly above his arse. The sounds they make when they realize they can't move their legs anymore...” This statement caused laughter from his underlings, albeit Harlan laughed the loudest. “Priceles… [view original content]
Torvin
Prince Harmund's first arrow hit the fleeing man's horse in the leg, sending it to the ground. The man wasted no time and even man… moreaged to land on his feet as his horse collapsed below him. He ran with an agility that was incredible for his advanced age, as the hounds reached the horse, starting to tear the dying animal apart. If he would have chosen to sidestep, he would have lived, he would have managed to reach the forest, where the horses would have been unable to follow. But he chose to run in a straight line towards safety, at least until Rell Vessels managed to hit him in the leg with his arrow. Harmund lowered his bow, turned around and gave Rell a fiendish grin.
“Good shot”, he shouted. “Next time try to hit him in the spine, slightly above his arse. The sounds they make when they realize they can't move their legs anymore...” This statement caused laughter from his underlings, albeit Harlan laughed the loudest. “Priceles… [view original content]
[Shoot the Man yourself] Hjalgar won't be able to go through with it, just get it over with.
[Offer to train the recruits] as much as I'd love for Marak to have some fun I don't think she'll be interested and who knows? Maybe she'll be impressed by his combat skills, and it's been a while since Marak hit something.
Another great chapter! I'm loving Nora's character she's cool.
Torvin
Prince Harmund's first arrow hit the fleeing man's horse in the leg, sending it to the ground. The man wasted no time and even man… moreaged to land on his feet as his horse collapsed below him. He ran with an agility that was incredible for his advanced age, as the hounds reached the horse, starting to tear the dying animal apart. If he would have chosen to sidestep, he would have lived, he would have managed to reach the forest, where the horses would have been unable to follow. But he chose to run in a straight line towards safety, at least until Rell Vessels managed to hit him in the leg with his arrow. Harmund lowered his bow, turned around and gave Rell a fiendish grin.
“Good shot”, he shouted. “Next time try to hit him in the spine, slightly above his arse. The sounds they make when they realize they can't move their legs anymore...” This statement caused laughter from his underlings, albeit Harlan laughed the loudest. “Priceles… [view original content]
{Encourage to shoot}
{Talk with Nora}
So I'm guessing we saved whats her face by making her go into the woods, I need to start to learn everyones names
Torvin
Prince Harmund's first arrow hit the fleeing man's horse in the leg, sending it to the ground. The man wasted no time and even man… moreaged to land on his feet as his horse collapsed below him. He ran with an agility that was incredible for his advanced age, as the hounds reached the horse, starting to tear the dying animal apart. If he would have chosen to sidestep, he would have lived, he would have managed to reach the forest, where the horses would have been unable to follow. But he chose to run in a straight line towards safety, at least until Rell Vessels managed to hit him in the leg with his arrow. Harmund lowered his bow, turned around and gave Rell a fiendish grin.
“Good shot”, he shouted. “Next time try to hit him in the spine, slightly above his arse. The sounds they make when they realize they can't move their legs anymore...” This statement caused laughter from his underlings, albeit Harlan laughed the loudest. “Priceles… [view original content]
Torvin
Prince Harmund's first arrow hit the fleeing man's horse in the leg, sending it to the ground. The man wasted no time and even man… moreaged to land on his feet as his horse collapsed below him. He ran with an agility that was incredible for his advanced age, as the hounds reached the horse, starting to tear the dying animal apart. If he would have chosen to sidestep, he would have lived, he would have managed to reach the forest, where the horses would have been unable to follow. But he chose to run in a straight line towards safety, at least until Rell Vessels managed to hit him in the leg with his arrow. Harmund lowered his bow, turned around and gave Rell a fiendish grin.
“Good shot”, he shouted. “Next time try to hit him in the spine, slightly above his arse. The sounds they make when they realize they can't move their legs anymore...” This statement caused laughter from his underlings, albeit Harlan laughed the loudest. “Priceles… [view original content]
Comments
Garthon
Holding back? Velmont Redloon dared to ask him to hold back? The thought was amusing, as well as outraging. If anyone would deserve a little thrashing, it would be that guy! A fish who tried to be iron! He wanted a fight and he would get it! Ironborn never held back! Or at least not for scum like Velmont Redloon...
“So, Breaker what do you...”, Velmont started to say but was cut off when Garthon punched him in the face. He heard a satisfying crunch and saw his opponent staggering backwards, bellowing in pain. “You fucking...”, he exclaimed, but Garthon was faster and punched him again, again in the face, further damaging the man's nose, almost sending him to the ground this time. Instead of going down however, Velmont let out an angry howl and charged towards Garthon, grabbing him and throwing him to the ground, while jumping on top of him. The air was pressed out of Garthon's lungs as he let out a surprised and pained groan.
“You little shit!”, he shouted and Garthon saw that the woman from the tavern was standing at the window, carefully watching their fight. George had a hand on the hilt of his sword, ready to intervene if possible. By the Drowned God, hopefully it wouldn't come that far! “Little Fishcunt you are! I'm going to teach you some manners!”, Velmont screamed and Garthon had to give him credit for staying in his role despite his obvious anger and pain. At least until Velmont's fist hit him in the face, almost causing him to blacken out. “You fucking bastard broke my nose!”, Velmont shouted, hitting him again, this time causing him to nearly black out.
“Role...”, Garthon managed to utter weakly as Velmont raised his hand again. The riverlander showed no mercy, hitting Garthon's temple with his closed fist. “Fuck... Velmont...”, Garthon mumbled again, feeling his senses numbing. Velmont Redloon wasn't exactly taller or stronger than him, but unlike Garthon, he was furious and that gave him a frightening advantage. Garthon managed to land a punch in his opponent's face, which barely slowed him down. Maybe he was a bit too much in his role! Like a hammer, Velmont hit him in the face again, this time hitting Garthon's cheek.
The faint sound of steel being drawn reached Garthon's ears. Velmont paused for a moment and looked over his shoulder. George had drawn his sword, pointing it at Velmont, his face distorted with anger. “Get. Away. From him”, he pressed out with clenched teeth, his sword slightly shaking with anger. Velmont let out a small chuckle and to Garthon's surprise he raised. Immediately, he took a deep breath, cold air filling his lungs again.
“What do you want, runt?”, Velmont growled, putting a hand on his belt, grabbing the hilt of a small knife. “Do you want a fight? Do you want me to kill you?” He was breathing heavily, but Garthon saw him slowly cooling down a bit. Still fighting the growing urge to slip into unconsciousness, he attempted to get to his knees, but fell down to his side again, the numbing feeling in his face almost causing him to loose consciousness. “This is madness, Velmont”, he mumbled and Redloon looked at him. “This is fucking madness and you know it. You took it too far”
Velmont gave him a furious glare. “I took... I took it too far?”, he exclaimed, wiping a bit off blood off from his nose. He looked at George again, who still stood with his sword in hand, ready to fight. And he let out a sigh, taking a step closer towards Garthon. “I told you not to hit me in the face. Better think about something to make up for it, you asshole, or else you will regret that”, he growled, before kneeling down next to him, grabbing him at the collar. “You will regret it.”
He pulled Garthon back to his feet and narrowed his eyes. “The king will hear of this. Only thing that might calm him down will be that Trident bitch in the tavern. Better bring her back to Harrenhal for... further interrogation” With these words he finally let go of Garthon and looked at George. “Next time you point that toothpick at me will be the last time you will point it at anyone”, he growled and started to walk away, to the inn's stables. “See you fuckers in Harrenhal!”, he shouted and entered the building.
George shook his head and took a step closer towards Garthon. “Asshole”, he mumbled. “Are you okay, Garthon?” His face got a worried expression as Garthon needed a moment to give him a nod. “It's okay”, he answered and smiled at the boy. “Thanks to you” George's face lit up as he heard the compliment. “I was afraid he would kill you”, he said and Garthon shook his head. “He probably wouldn't have. Let's go inside, I could kill for a beer”
His legs were slightly shaking as he was walking into the tavern, where the brown-haired girl was still standing at the window. The Harper had stopped playing and was sitting at the table, together with the other man. The girl gave him a worried look, visibly less hostile than before. “Is everything alright, good man?”, she asked with concern in her voice. “You look horrible” As she had said that, she opened her eyes widely. “I mean... not horrible in that way. But you're bleeding!”
“It's nothing”, Garthon answered, even though he clearly felt otherwise. His last fight had been a while back and he knew he had underestimated Velmont. Without George's help, he would have lost for sure. “He just took me by surprise”
“Well, you took him by surprise too”, the Harper answered. “Tell me, how do you know Velmont Redloon?” Unlike the girl, he sounded a bit more cautious, almost distrustful. If Garthon had any intention to rat these possible traitors out to the king, he would have been wary around this guy. But he wouldn't do that. Perhaps these people could even be allies in his attempt to kill the king. After all, if they are indeed parts of the Sons of the Trident, they had a lot more experience in defiance than he had.
“We live at the same castle”, he answered and decided to tell them at least part of the truth. “Harrenhal” He saw their faces dropping and quickly raised his hands. “No need for hostilities. I'm in no shape for that anyway. My name is Garthon Breaker”
The Harper pointed at a free chair next to him. “My name is Jon. This charming young lady is Dacey and the man next to me is Jared”, he explained as Garthon sat down. George gave Dacey a shy smile and Garthon suppressed the urge to roll with his eyes. She wasn't bad looking, but there were plenty of better girls available. Terrible timing to develop a crush. “I... I am George”, he introduced himself. “George Rivers” Garthon was surprised to hear him using the bastard name he technically wasn't entitled to use, but at the same time he was impressed as he realized the boys reason behind it. The girl flashed him a smile and the Harper seemed to be pleased. “A Rivers is always welcome among us”, he said. “Jared here is a Rivers too, albeit he prefers to be a Hunter now. And I was born a Rivers too”
Jared slightly grinned as the Harper mentioned him. “We can't really choose our surnames, right? What was your quarrel with Velmont Redloon?”, he asked and looked at Garthon. “I insulted him. You have heard about him, right? It's quite easy to insult him”, he answered and at least in his ears he sounded convincing. These people probably wouldn't react kindly to learn that he was ordered to rat them out, no matter the fact that he never intended to go through with that. “Said some thoughtless line about his mother”
This caused Jared to laugh. “Son of a bitch”, he chuckled. “He got you bad. Need a mirror?” Garthon shook his head. “Not the first time my face get's bloody”, he answered and immediately regretted it as the Harper gave him a slightly hostile look. “What exactly are you two doing for a living?”, he asked. Now, that was an interesting question. Somehow, Garthon was pretty sure that 'Raider' wasn't the answer these people wanted to hear.
George answered first, slightly surprising Garthon with his initiative. “I am a guard in service of Lord Edmyn Tully”, he explained with pride in his voice. This seemed to please Jon again. “Tully is a good and honest man, but he lacks initiative. He cowers under the tyrant, but he has not lost all of his honour, like the lords Bracken, Darry or Frey have”
“Tyrant, eh?”, Garthon said. “Dangerous word to use these days” Jon attempted to say something, but Dacey was quicker. “It's the truth”, she said and Garthon had to shake his head. That girl spoke to quickly. Someone else would have ripped out her tongue by now. Luckily for her, he wasn't someone else.
“Harren Hoare and his sons bleed the kingdom dry with their tyranny. Harrenhal isn't even the worst thing he did in the past forty years”, she insisted and Garthon shook his head. “You are talking too much, girl”, he hissed. “You are lucky that Velmont decided to leave after I broke his nose”
She shrugged. “If he would have heard me, I would have put an arrow right between his eyes”, she claimed and was about to say something, when the Harper silenced her. “Enough, Dacey. It's true, Garthon, we are not happy with the current state of the Riverlands. It's not a crime to be unhappy, right?”, he said and his voice got a dangerous tone.
Garthon looked him straight in the eye. “Being unhappy isn't a crime. Being a rebel on the other hand...”, he said and Dacey's startled gaze gave her away. “You are part of the Sons of the Trident, right?”, Garthon added and awaited an answer.
“Who are you, Garthon? Why are you here today?”, Jon the Harper asked and moved his hand under the table. Garthon looked at George, who barely noticeable shook his head.
[Tell them the full truth] [Tell them the truth but claim that you are a Riverlander] [Tell them a lie]
Kersea
She lay on the beach, hearing the waves, watching the first rays of sun after a long, dark night. Kersea always loved watching the sun rising above the Sunset Sea. Her parents small farmhouse was located on the western coast of the North. On good days, she had been able to see Bear Island. The Sunset Sea was still the same, but nowadays there was rarely a good day. And the remote coast of Bear Island appeared like a distant dream to her.
She had done it again. Killed someone. Tried to enjoy it. And to her horror, she hadn't failed entirely. Up until she heard those screams. Jenna Harking... poor girl. Was she still alive? Kersea could have done something, either helping Wolfius in satisfying his sick desires, or she could have given Jenna a quick death, but... her screams...
Five years ago everything changed for her. She still remembered the day as if it happened yesterday. She had been watching the sunrise with Briar and caught some fish for dinner. Her mother had been a good cook, despite the fact that they had nearly nothing. And when Kersea came home... She remembered the man, standing there over the bodies of her parents, a man two heads taller and twice as broad as she had been. He had given her a completely indifferent look as she had started to scream. And then he had attacked her. It had been a miracle that she survived. A lot of luck, albeit she wouldn't exactly consider herself lucky. She had killed the man. She had buried her parents. A day later, she had met Clayton and her old life ended. She had to replace the man she killed, the man who had killed her parents. She was a natural talent, as Clayton put it. A born killer. In the last five years, she had lived up to his hopes for her. But there was one thing he had never prepared her for, one thing she never had to be prepared for. Screams. The panicked screams of dying people. A good assassin never heard a single scream in his whole life. And Jenna's screams... they had reminded her of her own. Of Briar's screams as she had been taken away.
Kersea had left Wolfius, but she felt no regret about that. No, she hoped for his death. The outcome of this day had been his fault as well as hers. His aggressive approach had forced her to kill this young guardsman, right? She felt warm tears running down her cheek. She couldn't deny her fault in this mess. Her attempt to control the beast had been foolish and doomed to fail. Perhaps Richard Harking had killed him. Hopefully...
She had to chuckle as she thought this, a completely joyless chuckle. Hope. What a terrible joke. Clayton taught her to kill, but he taught her even more that there was no hope for her. The only hope he left for her was hope for Briar. Kersea closed her eyes as she couldn't stand the sight of the Sunset Sea anymore. As long as the sun was rising for Clayton, there wouldn't be a good day for her.
She looked up to the morning sky. The sun was rising for her. Wiping her tears away, she rose to her feet again. If there would be any justice left in this world, Clayton would pay for every life he forced her to end. But he taught her that there was no justice. There was only one person who would ever pay for tonight and she had no illusions about who it would be. Perhaps her eventual death would be some sort of justice at least. Until then, all she could do was to carry on. And for now she had to get back to the warehouse. She had to face Clayton and she had to tell him about what she did. He would probably hit her. She probably deserved it.
As she walked down the beach, she took one last look at the castle. She understood that their actions in Raylansfair were meant to destabilize the whole town. But there wasn't much to destabilize. Clayton had almost destroyed this town on his own. Killing the old lord and the Maester had been enough for the overly ambitious castellan to rise to power. Perhaps he would be the next target. Alysanne would probably kill him. She was begging Clayton to give her someone to kill for weeks now.
Kersea passed the Sept and not for the first time she asked herself which of the seven hells would be awaiting her after her death. Probably not the seventh. The seventh was reserved for traitors, whereas Kersea's last bit of pride was her loyalty to her sister. If she was lucky, it would be the third. The third was for murderers. She would wait there for Clayton. For Alysanne. For Wolfius. Maybe her dead friend Raenna would wait for her. The only thing that she regretted was that Briar would be alone. Yes, it was probably the third hell for her.
It didn't take her very long to get back to the warehouse. In the past weeks she had learned to navigate in this bad joke of a town. The only thing that was unusual was the large amount of guards patrolling the streets. But no one suspected a young, unarmed woman to be a trained killer. She knew, they were looking for Wolfius and she hoped they would find him. But deep down, she knew this hope was futile. Men like him, men like Clayton or Butterfly, they would never get what they deserve. Only their pawns, people like Briar, like Raenna, like herself were the ones who would suffer for their actions.
As she entered the warehouse she saw Alysanne sitting at a small table, probably just finishing her breakfast. She was wearing a shirt without sleeves and Kersea saw the ugly scars disfiguring her left arm, signs of the last time one of their missions failed. Blackwater Bay. Half of their group had died on that day, including her friend Raenna. Now there were only Alysanne and Clayton left. And herself of course...
Alysanne raised her head and looked at her with her fair green eyes. They would have been pretty, if the look in them wouldn't be so cold, so broken. “Good morning, puppy”, she said far too cheerfully. “What took you so long?” Kersea walked closer towards her and Alysanne's smile vanished, replaced by some sort of concern. “Everything alright?”, she asked. Kersea shook her head, holding back the tears again, trying to avoid looking at Alysanne. “What happened?”
This caused her to look up and straight into Alysanne's eyes. A hint of warmth was seen in them. They weren't the almost violet eyes Raenna had, with their soft and soothing look. But it was the kindest gesture anyone had given to Kersea in two months and it almost caused her to sob. Even though she didn't want it, she felt tears running down her cheeks again. And then Alysanne did something unexpected. She gave her a hug.
The gesture surprised Kersea enough to make her accept it. For one moment she rested her head on Alysanne's unburned shoulder, as the other woman clumsily patted her back. “Shhh, puppy. Everything is alright. Things will get brighter”, Alysanne whispered and Kersea finally pulled away from her. “What are you doing, Alysanne?”, she asked.
The other woman looked at her left hand, freshly bandaged. “I'm comforting you. I have seen this before. That's what friends do, right?”, she asked. What she said shook Kersea deeply. Alysanne was born as a slave, raised in fighting pits, sold to a brothel. At least Kersea had lived a normal life for twenty years and knew what true friendship was. But Alysanne... she was like a child in that matter. Hearing these words, despite the circumstances, despite all that happened to both of them and knowing that Alysanne believed them to be true almost broke her heart.
“What happened to you?”, Alysanne asked. Kersea gulped. “The mission failed. Partially. My target is dead. Wolfius' girl probably lives”, she answered briefly. Alysanne narrowed her eyes. “And Wolfius?”, she asked. Again, the attempt to sound genuinely concerned. Sometimes, Kersea tought that Alysanne was a cold sociopath and a bad actor. But the tragedy behind it was that she was a cold sociopath who failed to realize it.
“I don't know. Maybe he's dead”, she answered and almost genuine worry flashed across Alysanne's face. “I hope not”, she whispered and sounded meek for a moment.
“Where's Clayton?”, Kersea asked, looking to the stairs leading upstairs. Alysanne shrugged. “He left to search for a new location. With all these guardsmen around, he decided to change hideouts for now. He should be back soon”, she answered and looked her in the eyes. “He was very concerned about your absence. We both were” A part of Kersea wanted to believe her. But the rational part of her knew that neither of them were concerned for her. There was only one person left in this world who would be affected by her death.
“Kersea, can I ask you a question?”, Alysanne asked suddenly. She sounded curious, surprisingly playful. “There is something on my mind. Ever since Blackwater. It's about us” Kersea gave her a short nod. “Ask your question, Alysanne”, she answered.
“You know, now that Raenna is dead”, Alysanne said as if she was talking about the weather. The mention of her dead friends name sent a sharp sting of regret through Kersea. “I have asked myself, if... you know... if we could be friends now. Like you and Raenna” Kersea closed her eyes. Not like her and Raenna, no. Never again. Alysanne could never mean as much for her as Raenna did.
“I can understand if you say no. Maybe I just have to try harder. But I want you to be honest with me. Do you think we could be friends? I'd like to have friend. And I guess you could use one too. At least that's something Raenna has told me years ago. So... despite all the things that happened, the things that maybe stand between us... would you consider us friends?”, the woman asked and the look in her eyes was pleading, more befitting to a little girl. Part of Kersea wanted to affirm, if only out of pity. Another part of Kersea wanted to abnegate, also out of pity, but also out of anger for everything that happened. Yes, she could need a friend. They both could. But a friend like Alysanne? It wouldn't be a real friendship. It wouldn't be good. But maybe it would be good enough.
[“Yes”] [“No”]
[Tell them a lie] Peasants, none of this is their concern.
[“No”] Nope. Not lying to you.
Okay, Harris is probably a target. Leonard and Lucas are the next lords of Raylansfair.
Excellent.
[Tell them a lie] Garthon is a good liar and he's smart I think he can charm this situation into his favor.
["Yes"] surprisingly I actually like Alysanne give her a chance!
Garthon has actually become one of my favourite pov's he's so cool!
[Tell them a lie]
[“No”]
Tell the truth WE NEED TRUST
YES ALYSANNE YES
Awesome part
[Tell them the truth]
[Yes]
{Claim your a riverlander}
....eh Kersea I dont really mind what you do. Do what you want and be all depressed about it
[Tell them the full truth] I love the most dangerous choices
[Yes]
[Tell them the full truth]
[“Yes”]
[Tell them a lie]
[“No”]
[Tell the full truth]
[Yes]
Great chapter!
[Tell them the full truth] [“Yes”]
[claim that you are a riverlander]
[yes]
( Tell them the full truth ?)
( Yes)
[Tell them the full truth] They could make good allies so best just tell the truth now.
[“Yes”]
I think that telling he's a local to a bunch of natives is probably not such a good idea since it's not that hard to figure out that Garthon is obviously not a Riverlander(also not so hard to see that he's likely an Ironborn) so just [Tell them the full truth] and I hope they won't execute him lol
[“No”]
[Tell them a lie] Garthon is good at lying, let him do it some more.
[“No”] Kersea can't stand another friend dying. Maybe when they are safe and they will not have to worry that the other will die.
[Tell them a lie]
[“Yes”]
The Voting is closed!
Garthon will tell them the full truth
Kersea will tell Alysanne that they are friends
I'm sorry for not finishing the part yesterday. I have a few exams at university this week and next week, as well as a lot of birthdays in my circle of friends, so I had little time to write in the last days. Luckily, the exams are mostly stuff like Marketing. Seriously, a mentally challenged manatee could get top grades in Marketing, it sometimes reminds me of pre-school. Unfortunately, there will also be an accounting exam coming up next week and accounting is comparable to a mixture of Ubisoft, King Joffrey and Kanye West, except that is is a lot more douchy than these three combined. I will try my best to get the second-worst grade in this accounting exam and will consider this a tremendous success. Seriously friends, if you have a choice, don't study accounting.
Anyways, I'll try my best to finish this new part later today!
Bro you don't need to worry we get it. Infact of all the stories i joined none have posted and i perfectly understand. Heck i havent even started mine (but thats partially since im waiting for some friends to post chars).
Still, I feel a bit bad when leaving you hanging longer than usual without explanation. By the way, I'm still writing my characters for your story, as a result of my unusually busy schedule I hadn't had time to finish them. But I hope to finish them this weekend
No probs we get it. Also take your time i can wait. Also make sure you enjoy them some characters can spend 5-6 eps with no death choices so they're going to live a LONG time if they die at all.
[Tell the full truth]
[Yes]
Torvin
Prince Harmund's first arrow hit the fleeing man's horse in the leg, sending it to the ground. The man wasted no time and even managed to land on his feet as his horse collapsed below him. He ran with an agility that was incredible for his advanced age, as the hounds reached the horse, starting to tear the dying animal apart. If he would have chosen to sidestep, he would have lived, he would have managed to reach the forest, where the horses would have been unable to follow. But he chose to run in a straight line towards safety, at least until Rell Vessels managed to hit him in the leg with his arrow. Harmund lowered his bow, turned around and gave Rell a fiendish grin.
“Good shot”, he shouted. “Next time try to hit him in the spine, slightly above his arse. The sounds they make when they realize they can't move their legs anymore...” This statement caused laughter from his underlings, albeit Harlan laughed the loudest. “Priceless”, the younger prince stated.
Harmund descended from his horse and his men did the same. Torvin gave Harlan a short look and the prince answered with a nod, signalizing him to join Harmund and his group, who started to gather around the wounded man. Two hounds, large beasts, their hair almost as black as Harmund's, albeit with a temper far less vicious, surrounded him, growling menacingly every time he tried to move. The horses blood stained their snouts. These beasts were absolutely obedient to Harmund, cowering in fear every time he made a sudden movement. Torvin had seen this behaviour in most of the people around him. The only one who seemed to be slightly less afraid was Rell, who seemed to be more like a brother to Harmund than Harlan could ever hope to be.
Torvin looked at Hjalgar, who was walking to his right. Ever since Torvin showed even the slightest sign of sympathy for the boy, he stayed near him, as if he felt a bit safer with Torvin around. Bloody fool! Torvin knew, he couldn't protect Hjalgar from Harmund Hoare's wrath and he wouldn't even try to do it.
Gabin was walking to his left. He was the only member of the hunting party who refused to use a bow, instead preferring to simply ride with them. Like Hjalgar, he had went pale the moment Harmund had spotted the lone rider on his horse. Everything would have been fine if the rider would have stayed calm. But the moment he saw Harmund approaching, he decided to do something very dumb and spur his horse. There were few things that managed to make Harmund Hoare as excited as the prospect of a good hunt, except a good rape perhaps.
“This is sick”, Hjalgar mumbled as he was slowly approaching the circle of Ironborn that had gathered around the wounded man. “This is fucking sick” He looked at Torvin. “What if they decide to hunt us instead?” Torvin shook his head. “They won't”, he answered. “And you should keep your voice down if you want it to remain that way”
Gabin let out a sigh. “Poor idiot”, he mumbled bleakly. “He almost made it. But Rell is a terrific archer” Hjalgar shook his head. “I've seen better”, he admitted. “And I am better” He looked at the Ironborn. “But don't tell them I've said that”, he added hastily. Gabin let out a snorting laugh. “Come on, Hjalgar. You're a good archer? Better than Rell Vessels?”, he asked, but his voice showed pure sarcasm. “Well, I am!”, Hjalgar insisted and Torvin shook his head. What a bloody fool he was... nobody liked show-offs and Rell Vessels was no difference. Hopefully he wouldn't hear them.
The sound of a blade being drawn caused him to shift his attention to Harmund Hoare again. They were close enough to see the fear in the wounded mans eyes, as the prince pointed his longsword at him. “You tried to run, little fish”, Harmund growled. “You should have run faster” He moved his sword down, the tip of the blade scratching the man's chest.“Please...”, the man stuttered. “Please, mercy!” Torvin closed his eyes. Not this again...
“Mercy?”, Harmund asked. “You dare asking me for mercy?” He raised his blade again and the man flinched and closed his eyes, wimpering something. Instead of killing him with a single blow, the prince kicked him against the chin instead with his heavy boot, causing the man to howl in pain, as he spat several of his teeth on the ground. “Come on...”, Harmund whispered. “Ask me again. This is an order”
Tears were flowing out of the man's eyes, just as blood was flowing out of his mouth. “M... Mercy... Mercy!”, he cried. Harmund looked at his younger brother, his mouth forming a cold smile. “Harlan”, he said with a loud tone, enough to make Harlan flinch. “Yes, brother?”, he answered, his voice shifting between fear and excitement. Harmund took a step closer towards him. “You like kicking them while they are down, isn't that right?” Harlan gave him an insecure nod and Harmund pointed at the man. “Only once, brother”
Harlan's face beamed up with joy as he brutally kicked the man in the stomach, causing Hjalgar to turn away from the scenery. Harmund wasn't even noticing it, but Torvin saw that Rell narrowed his eyes. He had heard about Rell Vessels and his talent in uncovering treason. Besides being the son of one of the Iron Fleet's most respected captains and being one of the crown prince's accomplices, he was also part of Harren Hoare's intelligence network. He had to be wary around him.
“I said only once, you fucking inbreed!”, Harmund shouted and prevented Harlan from kicking the wailing man a second time. “I have a few questions for him and need him alive for that!” He pointed his sword at the man's throat again. “You know who I am?”, he asked. The man gave him a slight nod. “Prince Harmund Hoare”, he answered with fear in his voice, his speech slurring from the loss of several teeth.
Harmund gave him a pleased nod. “Very good. What is your name, fish?”, he demanded to know. The man shivered. “Tomard, my prince. I am a farmhand at Lincoln's farm” The prince raised an eyebrow. “And why exactly is a farmhand riding through this particular night? Haven't they told you to lock your doors and douse your candles? Haven't they told you what happens if you attempt to run from me?” His voice got lower, more threatening. Torvin closed his eyes. This man was dead. This would end badly...
“Lincoln tasked me in...”, the man started but stopped. “He... he asked me to...” He closed his eyes, tears running down his face. “Please, my prince, I will tell you, but don't kill me”, he pleaded. To Torvin's surprise, Harmund gave him a nod and put his sword away. “Alright. I accept your terms. Tell me everything I want to know and I swear I won't kill you, by the Drowned God and by House Hoare, I swear it”
The man made the problem of trusting Harmund. “Thank you, my prince. I will tell you everything!”, he exclaimed. “Lincoln owns a small farm a few miles down the road. He pays you for... for getting spared” Harmund interrupted him by looking at Rell who gave him a nod. “It's true, my prince. This man pays us a nice sum of money so that we don't visit his farm”, he explained.
Harmund looked at the old man again, who continued to talk. “I am tasked with finding young girls from around the area, to bring them to the farm. Lincoln keeps them safe until dawn, until you are back at Harrenhal”, he stuttered, his eyes widening as Harmund gave him a cold glare. “How many girls have you brought to the farm tonight?”, he asked. “Five, your grace. And one girl preferred hiding in the forest” The man's voice shivered in terror. Torvin looked at the forst. So, there was one clever girl and five dumb idiots. Wonderful...
“Please, your grace. One of the girls has a newborn child with her. Lincoln can pay you even more. He will pay you all he has if you spare them!”, the man shouted and Harmund visibly resisted the urge to kick him again. “He is paying...”, the prince repeated. “He is indeed paying...” He looked at his men and let out a howling laugh. “Unfortunately he is paying only for himself. And this... He thinks he is so clever, giving me money, so that I spare him and his dumb whores. And all this time he refuses to give me what I really want...”
He looked at Harlan. “Harlan!”, he shouted and the younger prince flinched. “Yes, Harmund?”, he asked. “This fish here told me about a girl who fled into the forest. Do you think we can allow her to escape?” Harlan shook his head. “No, Harmund!”, he answered. The prince gave his younger brother a pleased nod. “Clever boy”, he complimented him. “Me and Rell will travel to Lincoln's farm. You and your pets will chase after this girl. If you get her, you can do whatever you want with her. And then I allow you to follow me to that fucking farm”
Harlan did a good job in hiding his disappointment, but Torvin saw subtle hints in his face. “But...”, he started but was cut off by Harmund's vicious glare. “I understand...”, he mumbled. “I will do as you command, brother!” Harmund gave him a nod. “Of course you will”, he growled. “And now...”
With brutal force, he pulled the man back on his feet. The man let out a shriek as he was forced to put weight on his wounded leg. “My prince, you promised...”, he shouted in panic, but Harmund cut him off. “Indeed, I promised I would never hurt you and I will stay true to my promise. Unfortunately, Rell here never promised anything”
The man let out a scream of terror and started to wet himself. Torvin gave him a disgusted expression. No man should piss himself when faced with his own death. He could at least try to show some dignity.
“One moment, my prince”, Rell said. Harmund gave him a curious look. “You want to say anything?”, the prince growled. “Make it quick, there's a farm filled with beautiful young girls waiting for us!” This statement caused his men to howl in excitement. Rell looked at Hjalgar. “Indeed, my prince... but you remember this thing here? Hjalgar Holgarsson?”, he asked. Harmund gave him a nod as if he just remembered that Hjalgar was even present. “I think I see what you mean...”, he said and his fiendish grin reappeared.
“Hjalgar!”, he shouted and the boy shivered. “Come on, you poor excuse for a living being. Have you ever killed a man?” Hjalgar shook his head and Torvin saw the fear in his eyes. Harmund took a step closer towards him. “It's about time...”, he growled. “Kill this man” Hjalgar gave him a panicked stare, clearly uncomfortable with this situation. Torvin let out a sigh. Hjalgar was no killer. He was afraid. This man there, he deserved at least a clean death. Perhaps Torvin could give him this clean death. A single, quick arrow, a matter of seconds. Perhaps Harmund would even be impressed by his initiative. Or he would be enraged. It was hard to tell how he would react.
[Shoot the man yourself] [Encourage Hjalgar to shoot the man]
Marak
So... this was the big castle of Raylansfair? Marak wasn't impressed. He had seen Harrenhal. He had seen Winterfell and Storm's End. But this was hardly a castle. A decent wall, that unfortunately started to crumble on the seaward side. A single tower, not even particularly high. Maybe a garrison of fifty men at most. He had seen the archive from the distance, a large four-story building. According to Noelle it had a lot of it's space underground. Marak never understood the need to build something underground, where it could look so much more impressive above the ground.
Ser Darren had lead them well so far. The knight wasn't particularly talkative and Marak wasn't too sad about this. The knight had looked into the fire and everytime Marak looked him into his green eyes, he saw flames of the same colour dancing behind them. Right now he was talking to the gatekeeper of this castle, while Noelle simply walked inside of the courtyard, Marak following her like a trained dog. He was almost sure that she had bewitched him. There was no other rational explanation! By the Drowned God, as soon as his business with Noelle would be over he wouldn't stop drinking for weeks! And he would probably try to look for work in the North. The Northerners weren't too fond of mercenaries, but he once worked for the old Lady Manderly. Of course she had been fond of him...
“Marak!”, Noelle's voice interrupted his pleasant thoughts. He looked up and saw a sight even more pleasant than the old Lady Manderly... well, even the wall was a more pleasant sight than Lady Manderly, but still, this sight was remarkably pleasant. A young woman had walked in front of them, probably barely twenty years old. Surprisingly, she was wearing armour. A female guard? Now that was something new... She was tall for a woman, but still barely reached his shoulder. Her light brown hair was falling up to her shoulders, but what caught Marak's gaze was her wonderfully ample chest...
“Tough Guy!”, Noelle called him again and Marak quickly raised his stare so that he was able to look the girl in the eyes. They had the same colour as her hair, but looked absolutely furious. “I asked for your name”, she hissed. Marak gave her a charming smile and slightly flexed his muscles. Was she impressed? Yeah, she was clearly impressed! Marak grinned at his triumph...
“Your. Name. Or else you can wait in the pigpen, where you belong”, the woman called him again. Well, perhaps she wasn't that impressed after all. “Greetings, fair lady. My name is Marak”, he introduced himself, smiling at her. She narrowed her eyes and Marak noticed the sword strapped to her hip.
“Marak. And Noelle of Braavos, right?”, the woman repeated, before looking over Noelle's shoulder. “And who are you?”, she asked the approaching Ser Darren. The knight gave her a surprised glare. “Who am I?”, he asked. “Girl, I am Ser Darren Tallwood. Fetch me the captain of the guard, or even better, fetch me Ser Harris”
The unfriendly look on the womans face almost vanished as she heard his name. She slightly bowed her head. “Ser Darren Tallwood!”, she exclaimed. “This is... we thought you are dead!” Ser Darren shook his head. “Well, I am not”, he answered. “And now be a good girl and fetch me the captain”
This time, the slightly more friendly look on her face vanished. “The captain is standing in front of you”, she explained. “Nora Recton, captain of the guard” With these words she nearly bursted with pride and Marak's gaze wandered down her face again. Noelle gave him a slight nudge with her elbow, her uncomfortably warm skin interrupted any pleasant thoughts he could think of.
“Is this some kind of joke? How old are you, girl?”, Ser Darren asked a bit impatiently. The look in her eyes got slightly furious now. “Nineteen”, she answered, causing Ser Darren and Marak to chuckle. “A nineteen year old girl as the captain of the guard?”, the knight asked and almost sounded mocking. But Marak knew, he wasn't mocking her. He was displeased.
“Darren?”, a deep voice called from across the courtyard. The man who was approaching them had a few similarities to Marak's father. A few unsettling similarities. He was tall, almost as tall as Marak and his hair had a similar red colour. And he was at least twice his age. He was wearing an elegant tunic in green and yellow with the sigil of House Raylan on it, a crowned golden book on a field of green. “By the gods, Darren Tallwood!”
The man was approaching Darren, who had a pleased smile on his face, and hugged him brotherly. “We thought you've died months ago!”, the man exclaimed, still surprised. Looking past Darren, he noticed Noelle and Marak and gave them a short and polite nod. “Greetings”, he said. “My name is Harris Flowers, acting lord of Raylansfair”
Noelle made a curtsy in front of him, while Marak simply grinned at him. That was one of the best things at being a mercenary. Nobody expected manners. “Noelle of Braavos, priestess of R'hllor”, the priestess introduced herself. “This is Marak, my bodyguard. We have escorted Ser Darren Tallwood to Raylansfair and now I need to talk to you”
The mention of Rollmop caused Harris to narrow his eyes. “Foreign gods have no place in Raylansfair”, he explained calmly. “If it is religion you want to talk about, I have to decline. But if it is something else, I will gladly talk to you”
This seemed to please Noelle and she smiled one of her breathtakingly hot smiles. “I can assure you, the things we need to talk about are very real and very important”, she explained. Lord Harris gave her a short nod. “Very well. I can spare a few minutes right now. Why don't you and Ser Darren follow me to my chambers?”
With these words he made a short handwave, commanding Darren, Noelle and Marak after him. The cute guard stayed behind, glaring at Marak. Well, he would convince her of his charm sooner or later!
The short conversation the two knights had while walking towards the single tower also revolved around the guard captain, as far as Marak could tell. “A girl!”, Darren hissed angrily. “And so young. I never thought you were a man like that, Harris. Choosing a pretty girl you fancy over someone with actual qualification”
Harris shook his head. “I did not chose Nora because I fancy her, I chose her because she deserved it. She is one of our best fighters. She is loyal to Raylansfair. She is smart and she proved herself in the recent events”, he explained.
Ser Darren still seemed to be sceptical, judging from his facial expression. “And what is with Constantine? He's certainly better than some girl who tries to play knight. He should lead the guard”, he suggested. Harris gave him a nod. “True, Ser Leonard is the better fighter. But Ser Leonard is not here. He is on his way south together with Ser Lucas, on a mission of grave importance for Raylansfair”
“And when he comes back?”, Darren asked. Harris shrugged. “Nora is captain of the guard now. Since today, actually. I can't just dishonour her by taking that post away from her. But Ser Leonard will be appropriately rewarded, I'll make sure of that”
“Still, Harris. A girl. Nineteen years old. She has the looks, I give her that. But what about Ilhan? Where is the Impaler?”, Darren asked. “Surely he would have been a better choice. Fuck, even Bannion, that old drunkard would have been a better choice”
Marak noticed something in the lords face. Sorrow perhaps? Regret? “Ilhan is dead”, he mumbled. “Bannion is also dead, murdered only yesterday” He looked up. “We have to talk about many things, old friend. Your position in this household included” With these words he looked at Marak. “And I'd like to talk without some mercenary watching me” Some mercenary? Now what was that supposed to mean?
Harris and Noelle exchanged a short nod and the priestess gave Marak a nod. “It's okay, Marak. Wait in the courtyard. Nothing will happen to me”, she proclaimed. Marak gave her a reluctant nod. Sure, he was glad to get away from her. Still... something about her made it hard for him to leave. Fucking witchcraft! He turned around like a loyal dog and started to walk down to the courtyard. Now... Noelle was talking with the knight she had bewitched and the lord she wanted to bewitch. And he? What was he supposed to do? His gaze fell upon a group of recruits standing on the courtyard. Oddly enough, there was no master-at-arms to train them. What a fucked-up castle had no master-at-arms? He could show them a few tricks. Could get a bit of training himself. And then he saw something else, something much more pleasant. Nora, the so-called captain of the guard was standing near him. She was ignoring him, but perhaps he should start a nice conversation with her. Marak knew she couldn't resist his charm if he would try to talk to her. And he knew a few activities to fill an otherwise boring afternoon...
[Talk with Nora and be charming] [Offer to train the recruits]
[Encourage Hjalgar to shoot the man] Grow a pair.
[Talk with Nora and be charming] Get some information, maybe some rewards.....
You bet your ass he will be.
So was Darren a knight of Raylansfsir right? I forget.
Yes, Darren was in House Raylan's service for many years, he was actually the personal bodyguard of Lord Raylan. He left to chase a group of assassins who are responsible for killing his family. It has been heavily implied that these have been Clayton's assassins and at least according to Darren, his families death was only meant to lure him away from Lord Raylan, so that Clayton got an easy kill. After Darren lost track of the assassins near Blackwater Bay, he returned to Raylansfair and now seems to intend to join the household again.
[Encourage Hjalgar to shoot the man] DO IT
[Offer to train the recruits] Go away Nora. No sex for you either Marak
Awesome part!
[Encourage Hjalgar to shoot the man]
[Talk with Nora and be charming]
[Encourage Hjalgar to shoot the man] do it?
[Talk with Nora and be charming] why not just do it?
[encourage hjalgar to shoot the man]
[talk with Nora and be charming]
[Shoot the Man yourself] Hjalgar won't be able to go through with it, just get it over with.
[Offer to train the recruits] as much as I'd love for Marak to have some fun I don't think she'll be interested and who knows? Maybe she'll be impressed by his combat skills, and it's been a while since Marak hit something.
Another great chapter! I'm loving Nora's character she's cool.
[Encourage Hjalgar to shoot the man] DO IT, FAGGOT!
[Talk with Nora and be charming]
[Encourage Hjalgar to shoot the man] It's better like that.
[Talk with Nora and be charming] Start her Marak!
[Shoot the man yourself]
Hey, go big or go home right?
[Offer to train the recruits]
[Talk with Nora and be charming]
[Encourage Hjalgar to shoot the man]
{Encourage to shoot}
{Talk with Nora}
So I'm guessing we saved whats her face by making her go into the woods, I need to start to learn everyones names
It's Alys I think but it sounds like they know she's in the woods and are going to go look for.
Hey why so mean ?
[Encourage Hjalgar to shoot the man] This was a very good part! Rell Vessels is creepy o_o
[Talk with Nora and be charming] Not Marak's problem to train the recruits
[Encourage Hjalgar to shoot the man]
[Talk with Nora and be charming] Marak chapters are very entertaining