As you probably expect, this is a very important choice that will majorly influence the storyline of Richard and several other characters in the next chapter.
The next part will be split in two again due to the length. It will involve a longer Drent part, featuring the Storm King and Princess as well as two new characters and a shorter Garthon part which will conclude Garthon's storyline in this chapter. I am sure that I'm going to finish it later today!
Anyways, as you know I like to give shout-outs to new stories that could use a few more readers. And as you know, I have a special fondness for the Hunger Games. The newest fanfiction in the Hunger Games universe is written by @TeamKennyW00t and depicts the events of the 25th Hunger Games, also known as The First Quarter Quell. A Quarter Quell can be best described as an especially unfair edition of the Hunger Games with a dickish twist. Needless to say, I am excited for this. This is not TeamKennyW00t's first story in this forum, as he also write the successful and very well-written story Blood, set in the Walking Dead universe. As such, I can confirm that TeamKennyW00t's writing is worth every reader it can get and I am absolutely sure that this story is going to be great. Of course and as always, to make this story as good as possible, TeamKennyW00t needs a strong readership and characters to use in his story. If you are interested in an especially evil and enjoyable version of the Hunger Games, written by a highly talented writer, follow this link!
Hey guys, I'm starting a fan fiction based on the hunger games. I urge you to join, because I can't start till all the spots are filled.
https://www.telltalegames.com/community/discussion/comment/2043950#Comment_2043950
As you probably expect, this is a very important choice that will majorly influence the storyline of Richard and several other characters in the next chapter.
The Voting is closed!
Richard will support Urid's plan
As you probably expect, this is a very important choice that will majorly influ… moreence the storyline of Richard and several other characters in the next chapter.
The next part will be split in two again due to the length. It will involve a longer Drent part, featuring the Storm King and Princess as well as two new characters and a shorter Garthon part which will conclude Garthon's storyline in this chapter. I am sure that I'm going to finish it later today!
Anyways, as you know I like to give shout-outs to new stories that could use a few more readers. And as you know, I have a special fondness for the Hunger Games. The newest fanfiction in the Hunger Games universe is written by @TeamKennyW00t and depicts the events of the 25th Hunger Games, also known as The First Quarter Quell. A Quarter Quell can be best described as an especially unfair edition of the Hunger Games with a d… [view original content]
The Voting is closed!
Richard will support Urid's plan
As you probably expect, this is a very important choice that will majorly influ… moreence the storyline of Richard and several other characters in the next chapter.
The next part will be split in two again due to the length. It will involve a longer Drent part, featuring the Storm King and Princess as well as two new characters and a shorter Garthon part which will conclude Garthon's storyline in this chapter. I am sure that I'm going to finish it later today!
Anyways, as you know I like to give shout-outs to new stories that could use a few more readers. And as you know, I have a special fondness for the Hunger Games. The newest fanfiction in the Hunger Games universe is written by @TeamKennyW00t and depicts the events of the 25th Hunger Games, also known as The First Quarter Quell. A Quarter Quell can be best described as an especially unfair edition of the Hunger Games with a d… [view original content]
“You're wrong”, Drent answered and Garen narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean? You're honestly trying to tell me it wasn't Durrandon's fault?”, the mercenary answered, letting out a sigh. Drent gave him a nod. “Well, perhaps he overreacted, but the ambassador had to know better. Argilac Durrandon is pretty much a force of nature when it comes to his daughter. When a ship runs aground because it hit a reef, you don't blame the reef, right? You blame the helmsman”, he answered.
“I don't think you can apply that metaphora to that case”, Garen snarled. “Drentie, that guy lost his hands just because he delivered a message. Sure, he should have know better, but so should Argilac. Insulting the Storm Princess in the presence of her father is a suicidal move, everyone knows it and I agree with you. But is insulting a man who rides a literal dragon any wiser?”
“What do you expect me to say, Garen?”, Drent asked impatiently. “You expect me to question my king? Argilac has always been a good king to his people, a strong leader. I won't question him, because it's not my place to question him”
“Good little soldier...”, Garen mumbled. “You've heard about that mission he wants to send us?” Drent gave him a nod. “You, me, Montclair”, he answered and Garen chuckled. “You forgot about Lady Tariel, Ser Emphryus and about fifty other men”
“Fifty!”, Drent exclaimed. “What does he need fifty men for?” Garen shrugged. “Tariel has dropped a few hints”, he explained and Drent raised an eyebrow. “The lady talks to you?”, he asked in surprise and Garen shook his head. “Briefly. Anyway, it seems our king has inherited”, he answered.
“And what has he inherited?”, Drent asked, slightly annoyed that he had to worm this information out of Garen. The mercenary shrugged again. “Didn't understand the details. Some small coastal village in the Reach as far as I know. He'll explain, hopefully”
They entered the Great Hall and saw that it had emptied considerably. Many soldiers had finished their meal and were back on duty, only some especially nosy lords and their entourages were still hanging around in the hopes of seeing something interesting. The ambassador was still unconscious, but Maester Raymond, himself a nearly ancient man who had already served under Argilac's father, was tending to his wounds, while a servant was assisting him. Drent was no Maester, but the amount of blood the ambassador lost made a survival unlikely. Perhaps a clean death would have been more merciful.
Argilac Durrandon was sitting on his throne with a slight slouch, his left hand holding a massive mug filled to the brink with the strong and bitter Norvoshi beverage he preferred. Considering the spreading pool of blood around the ambassador, the princess had moved her plate again, now sitting at the far end of the table, while Argilac didn't seem to mind that drops of blood were staining his clothes. Argella's triumphant smile had vanished, instead she had an aloof and regal facial expression on her face. As she saw Drent and Garen entering the hall, she shortly looked up, but avoided to look either of them in the eye.
Behind the king, Drent saw Jax Montclair and Emphryus Dresfel. The Sergeant was the first to spot him, slightly raising his hand to command him to come closer. He walked up to the king and whispered something in his ear. Argilac gave him a short nod and put his mug down, his dark blue eyes finding Drent. “Drent and Garen, right?”, he growled. “Come closer, we got to talk”
He raised from his chair and with a single look he ordered Argella to do the same. “Lady Tariel and Ser Baron are awaiting us in the war room”, the king growled as Drent and Garen stood next to him. He put a massive hand on Drent's shoulder. “You brought these pigs to their pens, right?”, he asked and Drent gave him a nod. A fatherly smile flashed over Argilac's face. “Good man”, he complimented him.
“Raymond”, he shouted at his Maester. The old Maester, who was already half deaf turned around and gave him a wrinkled smile. “Yes, your grace?”, he asked. “You're going to patch him up, right? Is he going to be okay?”
“Well, not exactly okay, your grace. He suffers from a lack of hands”, the Maester said and the mouths of Argilac and his daughter formed a grin in unison. “But yes, he will live, if the Valyrian's follow my instructions as soon as they leave the castle. A wound like this has killed stronger men before, but I've seen weaker men surviving it”
“Do your best, old friend”, Argilac ordered him. “A dead ambassador makes less of an impression to the Dragonlord” Raymond gave him a short nod and turned around again, to continue his work. The Storm King in turn continued his way out of the hall, Argella at his side, while Drent, Garen, Montclair and Dresfel followed him.
The small group passed the large door at the end of the hall, walking up the large stair that lead to the inner rooms of Storm's End. Somewhere there laid the Storm King's famous war room, where he had planned every military action he took during the last thirty years, from the ill-fated invasion of the Reach, to the still ongoing pacification of the Dornish Marches. Usually, this room was reserved for Argilac and his knights, but of course there were tales about it among the soldiers. Rumours that it was stuffed with the skulls of Argilac's foes, filled with maps that detailed Argilac's plans for all of Westeros. Therefore, Drent was negatively surprised as the room turned out to be disappointingly ordinary. A large, but simple wooden table, several comfortable looking chairs on it's left and right, a large, but plain-looking throne at the top end, a map of the Stormlands and it's surroundings, with small wooden figurines of stylized stags, flowers, snakes and krakens, depicting the armies of the Stormlands, Reach, Dorne and the Iron Islands. A small, wooden dragon stood close to the coast of Blackwater Bay, indicating the location of Dragonstone.
The room was large enough to hold a hundred people, but right now only two were present, sitting at opposite sites of the table, both of them directly next to Argilac's throne. To the right sat Ser Baron Schodek, a childhood friend of the Storm King, almost as tall as his king, with a thick grey beard and a strongly receding hairline. His dark brown eyes were mustering the King and his group and he was avoiding to look at the second person in the room. On the other side of the table sat Lady Tariel, Argilac's chief advisor for everything related to the Reach. She was one of the few women at court who were able to stand their own when compared to the looks of the Storm Princess. Her hair was dark brown, only slightly lighter than Argella's, her skin was similarly pale, but her green eyes strongly contrasted the princess' blue and worked well with her light green dress. She wasn't a real lady and there was a persistent rumour that she had been sleeping her way up to her current position, but her brilliance when it came to political schemes was unquestionable. Both of them had a fierce and famous rivalry with each other, but today they both gave their king dark looks full of worry.
“Your grace!”, Tariel greeted them, standing up and walking towards him. “Tariel!”, Argilac exclaimed, hugging her and enjoying the kiss on the cheek she gave him. “Always a pleasure to see you”, he said with a grin. Drent noticed that Tariel looked at Garen for a moment, albeit he doubted that anyone else noticed.
“And Princess Argella!”, Tariel exclaimed with joy. Drent knew there was no love between the two women, but both hid their sharp insults under soft silken words. “My dear it's wonderful to see you. And your dress is... extraordinary. The neckline is fascinating, a real eyecatcher”
Argella slightly frowned, but remained composed at Tariel's remark. “Thank you, dear. Here I am, not able to give you a similar compliment. But I admire your bravery. Green certainly suits you”, she chirped and Ser Baron let out a sigh.
“Alright, alright, little cats, I'm glad you enjoy the sight of each other. We certainly do. But let's not waste time with smalltalk, we have a lot to discuss, shall we?”, he growled. Being Argilac's most trusted friend had it's benefits and Ser Baron was allowed to say things that would have provoked a reaction from the king if they would come from anyone else. The old knight pointed at the chair next to him, opposite of Tariel. “Please, my princess, allow me the honour”, he said. Argella didn't answer at first, but started to walk around the table, not up to Ser Baron, but up to Tariel's chair. She gave Tariel a short smirk, before sitting down on at her spot. “Thank you, Ser Baron, but I think here is a good chair for me. A princess should sit close to her father's side after all”
Tariel ignored this, but was now forced to sit next to either Ser Baron or Princess Argella. She chose the princess and sat down next to her, a bright smile on her face. Garen let out a sigh and positioned himself next to her before Jax or Ser Emphyrus were able to choose a seat. The knight chose to sat down next to Ser Baron, the two sharing a short, brotherly handshake. Drent and Jax looked at each other, shrugged and positioned themselves at opposite sides of the table, Drent sitting next to Ser Emphryus, while Jax picked the seat next to Garen. In the meantime, Argilac Durrandon was slowly walking around the table, looking at the map as if he was lost in thoughts.
“The Marches...”, he mumbled, causing Baron to look up. “Your grace?”, the knight asked. “The figurine at the marches stands wrong. It should be closer to Kingsgrave”, Argilac answered and looked at Baron. “Seven Hells, am I the only one who actually read Brownwell's last letter? They left the valley near Wyl to the west five days ago and are now meeting up with that orange guy near the Prince's Pass and the valley of Kingsgrave”
He pointed at the small wooden stag in the dornish marches, symbolizing the troops stationed there. “Does that look like five day marches to the west from Wyl?”, Argilac growled, pushing the figurine slightly closer towards the dornish border and to the castle of Kingsgrave. Baron frowned at the kings words, but gave him an apologetic smile. “Forgive me, your grace. I haven't found the time to read Sergeant Brownwell's latest letter yet”
Argilac slightly chuckled as he heard this. “That's what you got me for, old friend”, he grinned. “By the way, what do we know about that orange guy Brownwell keeps mentioning?” Baron seemed to think about his kings question for a moment and it was Tariel who answered instead. “Yoreen Flowers, known as Orange Yoreen. Bastard son of Ser Maron Mullendore of Oldtown”, she intoned. “Exceptional military career. Surpassed his father in rank ten years ago. Most successful leader the Reachmen had in the dornish marches for centuries. Ironically known as 'Bad Lieutenant'"
“Why's that?”, the king asked with a grin. “He stopped his men from raping dornish women. They nearly mutinied against him after this”, Baron answered and Argilac's grin vanished. “I still don't see a bad lieutenant there”, he growled with a dangerously low voice. “Which brings me to the question... What's with Brownwell?”
“What do you mean, your grace?”, Baron asked. “Sergeant Brownwell is fine, a capable man to lead our...” Argilac interrupted him with a quick handwave. “Has he already outlawed raping in his regiment? The thought just occured to me, but I think it's an important question”, the king growled impatiently and for a moment Drent saw that vicious look in his eyes again. Baron shook his head. “Not that I know”, he answered.
“Well, then remember to write him a letter after our meeting. No more raping. My men are soldiers, not pigs. I expect them to behave. If they want a cunt they shall pay for a whore. I know I pay them good enough”, Argilac ordered him. “Tell him, first time offenders loose a hand, second time offenders feel the kiss of a gelding knife” His hard stare directly met Baron's and the old knight visibly shivered as he looked his old friend in the eyes. “And tell him that I'm impressed if he finds any third-time offenders”, he added.
“A bold move, your grace”, Tariel complimented him. “But the men won't like it”, Baron added quickly. Argilac shrugged. “Wonder if they dare to call me 'Bad King' for telling them where they can't put their dirty cocks”, he said, causing a short chuckle from Emphryus and Baron. The kings gaze fell on Garen and his grin got wider. “Mercenary, you look like you want to say something!”, he snarled.
Garen shook his head. “Not exactly, your grace. I am just wondering why you called me here. And Golton and Montclair as well. Surely you haven't send us here to discuss your new laws for the Dornish Marches, right?”, he answered. Argilac gave him a short nod. “Indeed not, mercenary. I've called you, all of you, here today to talk about a little mission you will do for me”, the Storm King answered.
He looked at Montclair. “Jax, my friend. You fought for me at Ashford, Bitterbridge and Blackhaven. Even Emphryus is impressed by your work. He trusts you and so do I”, he explained and Drent saw the proud look in the sergeants eyes. The king looked at Garen next. “And you, mercenary... I don't like men who only fight for gold, but Baron vowed for you. Someone who is good enough for my oldest friend is good enough for me as well”, he said and Garen gave him a nod. “Whatever it is, your grace, I won't disappoint you”, the mercenary promised.
Lastly, the Storm King looked at Drent. “And lastly, Drent Golton”, he said, a smile forming under his thick beard. “Your involvement in this mission comes from a direct recommendation from Jax here. He called you his best man and that's good enough for me” His gaze fell on Argella. “And for my daughter of course”
“Your grace?”, Montclair asked curiously. Argilac ignored his remark and looked at Tariel instead. “Please, explain to our guests what this meeting is about” The woman gave him a nod and looked from Montclair to Drent, while ignoring Garen. “King Argilac has inherited”, she proclaimed, pulling a small sheet of paper from her pocket. “A friend of mine sent me this message with a detailed copy of House Raylan's family tree”
She unfolded the paper in front of Drent and Montclair, revealing a crudely drawn family tree and pointed at one of the names near the bottom of the sheet. “Lord Robert Raylan, last of his line. Died two weeks ago after a brief and severe illness. No children. No direct heir”, Tariel explained and pointed at some of the other names. “As you can see, a common whore has a purer bloodline than Robert Raylan”, she added and Argella gave her a sly smirk. “I trust your expertise, my dear”, the princess chirped.
Tariel visibly suppressed a sigh before she continued. “This family tree involves a surprisingly large amount of smallfolk. They also mainly married into the noble House Bennick, which died out a hundred years ago according to my source. Lucifer Fossoway had a strong claim through his marriage to Lord Raylan's late cousin Olenna, at least until Dickon Morrigen slew him at Bitterbridge. Tytos Beesbury had an even stronger claim through his marriage to Lord Raylan's aunt, until a bowel inflammation slew him at his privy twenty years ago”
“I bet the bowel inflammation still had to fight harder than Morrigen to get it's kill”, Emphryus mumbled, causing Garen and Baron to chuckle. Tariel gave him an irritated frown before she continued to explain the family tree. “Lord Hobert of Mander's Mouth has a very weak claim and he is still alive. However, there is an even stronger claim thanks to some ancient Lord Raylan about four hundred years ago”, she explained, pointing at a name at the top of the family tree. “Lady Larra Raylan, born Larra Durrandon, related in a direct line to Robert Raylan. Younger sister of King Argilac's direct relative, King Loren Durrandon. She chose to marry into House Raylan out of love, nearly provoking a war between Reach and Stormlands”
“And in the end she gave me a cozy little village at the eastern coast of the Reach”, Argilac concluded Tariel's explanation. “According to her friend, there is no doubt that my claim is stronger than Lord Hobert's. Lord of Raylansfair might not be the most illustrious of titles, but it's mine by right and I intend to claim it”, he growled.
“According to her friend in Raylansfair, the current acting lord is going to be a problem, but nothing I couldn't solve. Lady Tariel is travelling there, together with fifty good men, including you. Her mission will be to claim Raylansfair in my name”, he continued and exchanged a smirk with his daughter.
“With all due respect, but does Lady Tariel hold enough power to claim the city?”, Montclair asked. “She's not a noblewoman. In fact she is...” He stopped himself before saying the word 'bastard', but Tariel narrowed her eyes regardless.
“Of course, she does not hold enough power to do this”, Argella interjected with glee. “That's why she won't travel alone” It took Drent a moment to realize what the princess just implied. “You will be accompanying us, my princess?”, he asked in surprise. She flashed him a bright, deceivingly innocent smile and fluttered her eyelashes. “If I may”, she chirped.
“You want to send your daughter with us, your grace?”, Garen asked and Argilac gave him a nod. “She will claim Raylansfair in my name. She's my blood, my heiress. One day she has to learn how to lead a negotiation. With Lady Tariel's assist she should make it”
“Fifty men to guard the princess and Lady Tariel? That's awfully few, your grace”, Montclair interjected doubtfully and Argella gave him a nod. “You bring a solid point, Sergeant Montclair”, she answered. “But more men could lead to trouble with the Reach. Fifty have to suffice. It's not like we attempt to talk to a monster like Harren Hoare”
“It's still more men than the whole garrison of Raylansfair even has”, Tariel tried to convince a clearly sceptical Montclair. The sergeant let out a sigh. “It's risky”, he pointed out and Argilac gave him a nod. “It is”, he answered. “But Argella insisted and what kind of father would I be to deny my daughter this wish? What kind of king would I be to deny my heiress this opportunity?”
“If anything goes wrong, I expect from you to guard the princess with your lives”, Ser Baron ordered them and Emphryus, Montclair and Drent immediately gave him a nod. “Yes, Ser!”, they exclaimed at once. Garen took a moment longer, but he still did the same. “Yes, Ser”, he mumbled and Baron gave him a kind smile. “Good boy”, he complimented him. “I know you won't cause me any shame”
“You still don't look pleased, Sergeant Montclair”, Argella noticed and gave him a reassuring smile. “Is there anything the matter?” Montclair gave her a slow nod. “It's risky, my princess. If anything goes wrong and you get hurt...”, he said and paused as Argella shook her head. “Don't worry about it, Sergeant. See the positive aspects. You'll travel to another kingdom, to meet new and fascinating people, to serve your king and to protect your princess”, she answered “And to make it even better, you'll get the extraordinary pleasure of enjoying my company along the way”
He gave Jon a short nod and the Harper clapped his hands. “Okay, here's the plan. Jared, start to pick the lock. Dacey, get your bow ready. If we meet any resistance, aim for the knees. Don't want to kill anyone if it's preventable”, he ordered his men. Both gave him a nod and Jared pulled a lock pick out of his pocket, starting to work on the door.
“What's that smugglers name again?”, Jon asked. “Mosso”, George answered quickly. “I hope we'll meet him there. Would be quite embarrassing to break into the wrong house”, Garthon remarked and George narrowed his eyes. “Do you imply I made a mistake?”, he asked. “Have you?”, Garthon asked dryly, causing Jon to chuckled. “Please, ladies. Bad timing now. Jared, how's the lock?”, he asked.
Jared looked over his shoulder, a grin on his face. “Give me a minute and we're in”, he answered to Garthon's pleasure. “Dacey, you're ready?”, the Harper asked. She gave him a nod without looking at him. “Always”, she hissed.
As promised, a few moments later the door opened a tiny bit and Jared raised his fist in triumph. Jon gave him a silent nod and pushed the door open a bit further, just allowing Dacey to aim at anyone who might stand behind it. Garthon caught a look at the Ibbeneese bouncer, who had to look up to them, his massive arms folded, his hairy face showing displeasure.
“I said fuck off”, he snarled dryly. “And you decided to break into the building” His heavy accent made it hard for Garthon to understand him, but it appeared as if Jon had no problem with it. “We want to speak to Mosso”, the Harper repeated and the bouncer revealed an ugly grin. “Is there any part of 'Fuck Off' you haven't understood?”, he asked.
“Perhaps the part where I have an arrow aimed at your crotch”, Dacey hissed. “Now bring us to Mosso, or else something bad happens” The Ibbenese let out a sigh. “You're not a subtle lot, that right?” Still, he turned around, commanding the group to follow him with a handwave.
Jon entered the building first, Dacey walked after him. She had lowered her bow, but still held the arrow in a firm grip. Garthon followed, holding a hand on the hilt of his sword, while George and Jared came in last.
“Mosso is a busy man. Mosso might not want to talk to you”, the bouncer said. “We let Mosso decide”, Garthon answered. “We have an appointment with him, so the least we can expect is talking to him” The bouncer gave him a short nod. “True”, he answered. “I'll bring you to Mosso's workroom. Keep your hands where I can see them”
“You're not really in a position to make threats”, Dacey hissed and the bouncer rolled his eyes. “And you, girl, are in a position where you want something from Mosso, so you should stay quiet and only speak when you're asked to”, he growled, leading them through an empty hallway. It was surprisingly tidy for a building in this part of Maidenpool, albeit only scarcely furnished. The wooden walls and the floor started to get mouldy, but all in all he had to admit that Mosso's hideout was quite cosy.
They entered a large storage room, filled with crates of different sizes, shelves full of books, vials full with strange liquids, armour stands, exotic weapons. And a desk. Behind it sat a tall and thin man with a long face and dull grey eyes. His back was slightly crooked and he was writing something onto a sheet of paper as the group entered. He looked up, sheer displeasure on his face, albeit his mouth formed a somewhat polite smile.
“Who have you brought me here?”, he asked and raised from his chair, giving them a stilted bow. “Greetings, guests. How can I help you?” Garthon wanted to answer, but Jon cut him off. “We'd like to talk to Mosso”, he answered. “Not to you”
Both, Garthon and the tall man stared at him in surprise as Jon turned to the smuggler instead. “Mosso is an Ibbeneese name. You're posing as your own bouncer?”, he asked. The man's broad face lit up to reveal an ugly smile full of crooked teeth. “I like to find out whom I have to deal with before revealing myself”, he answered without the hint of an accent. He reached out with his massive arm and gave Jon a strong handshake. “Mosso Nath, at your service”
He pointed at the tall man. “This is my secretary, Beloro Mararis”, he introduced him. “Very good at posing as me. Not so good at keeping track of the inventory” The secretary gave him a frown and slightly shook his head. “Can I get you anything, Mosso?”, he asked. The smuggler gave him a nod. “A glass of wine”, he ordered him and walked towards the desk.
“You're not offering anything to us?”, Garthon asked with a slight smile. Mosso shook his head. “I'm an honest businessman, at least towards my clients. A popular saying in Ib can be translated as 'Never trade with a man who offers you alcohol' and I follow this saying. A man who feels the need to make you drunk before trading with you has something to hide. The better the beverage, the more terrible his secret”, he explained. “Once traded with a smuggler from the Summer Isles who offered me Arbor Gold. I had to break three of his fingers until he confessed that he attempted to double cross me. That said, I can offer you a cup of water if you're thirsty”
“I pass”, Garthon answered. “We're here to discuss a trade. My friend George here can explain the details” With these words he pushed George forwards. The boy seemed to be reluctant to speak to the stocky Ibbenese, but Garthon patted him on the back in an attempt to reassure him. “My name is George Rivers. My master has depicted the details of our trade in his correspondence with you, if I'm not mistaken”
Mosso gave him a short nod. “Indeed he has”, he answered and raised from his chair. With quick steps he walked towards one of the shelves, holding several crossbows. “You want two of these, George Rivers”, he explained, raising a laughably tiny crossbow. “Foldable, to a certain degree. Perfectly able to be hid under a cloak. Play your cards right it and it's impossible to spot”
He pointed it at a near crate, shooting a bolt into it. The bolt hit the crate with a loud thud and went in surprisingly deep, silencing any thought of Garthon to poke fun at the tiny weapon. “And if you can get close enough, it'll go through chainmail and even light steel armour just as a big crossbow would”, Mosso grinned. “Perfect for close-range assasination, but useless for anything beyond ten feet”
He narrowed his eyes as he looked from George to Jon. He held his stare on Dacey for a while longer. “You don't look like professional killers”, he remarked. “What do you want with these?”
“None of your business”, George answered coldly. “We take the crossbow, but what’s with the poison?” Mosso's smile vanished as he walked towards another shelf, holding plenty of vials full with different liquids. “Yes, the venom”, he said slowly. “There has been a problem”
“What are you talking about?”, Jon growled and Mosso raised his hands as his secretary entered the room again. “Nothing too bad. But I have few problems with the delivery. The Manticor venom I trade with has perfect quality. Made in Mantarys, shipped from Volantis to Lys without even seeing the light of the day. From there it's shipped to a small cave at Crackclaw Point, near the Dyre Den. The lord of the Dyre Den then organizes further transport to Maidenpool for a nice bribe without arousing any suspicion”, the smuggler explained and gave him an apologizing smile. “And a week ago a raven from the Dyre Den arrived. Lord Brune is dead and my venom can't be transported any further until the new Lord Brune makes a new agreement with me”
With a slight smile he raised a small vial, containing light green liquid. “But I can make you another offer. It's a bit cheaper and you'll get something just as deadly. And you can choose”, he said and handed Garthon the first vial. “Careful, don't break it. You get anything on your fingers and lick on them and you're dead. That one is Basilisk venom. Not as potent as Manticor venom, but it still kills”
The smuggler pulled out a second vial, containing deep purple liquid. He grinned slightly as he handed it to Garthon. “And this one is the Strangler. My personal favourite, though you need to be a real whoreson to use it. It's a perfidious poison, that one. Makes the victim unable to breath. Decidedly more painful than the Basilisk venom”
Garthon held both vials in his hands, looking at George. “Any preferences?”, he asked and George shook his head. “Honestly, I was glad I didn't have to choose”, the boy answered. “I hate using poison, but I don't have a saying in this. I leave this up to you”
With these words he looked at Jon. “Though perhaps our Harper can give you a tip which one is better”, he said and Jon gave him a nod. “Both of them are deadly, that should be the most important thing”, Jon explained. “Though Mosso is right. The Strangler is the more painful one, a bit slower. Depends on whether or not you want to give your target a painful death. He won't survive either of them. It's up to you to decide”
[Choose the Strangler] Are you kidding me? Slower, more painful, inevitable death any day of the week
Argilac slightly chuckled as he heard this. “That's what you got me for, old friend”, he grinned. “By the way, what do we know about that orange guy Brownwell keeps mentioning?” Baron seemed to think about his kings question for a moment and it was Tariel who answered instead. “Yoreen Flowers, known as Orange Yoreen. Bastard son of Ser Maron Mullendore of Oldtown”, she intoned. “Exceptional military career. Surpassed his father in rank ten years ago. Most successful leader the Reachmen had in the dornish marches for centuries. Ironically known as 'Bad Lieutenant'"
Well this is a little awkward.
I found some amusement about your lines about 'fifty good men'. Ramsay did good with 20.
Only two weeks since Lord Raylan died? Not good... I hope these guys return to Raylansfair before Lucas & Leonard, because I don't want Leonard to die.
Garthon
He gave Jon a short nod and the Harper clapped his hands. “Okay, here's the plan. Jared, start to pick the lock. Dacey, get your … morebow ready. If we meet any resistance, aim for the knees. Don't want to kill anyone if it's preventable”, he ordered his men. Both gave him a nod and Jared pulled a lock pick out of his pocket, starting to work on the door.
“What's that smugglers name again?”, Jon asked. “Mosso”, George answered quickly. “I hope we'll meet him there. Would be quite embarrassing to break into the wrong house”, Garthon remarked and George narrowed his eyes. “Do you imply I made a mistake?”, he asked. “Have you?”, Garthon asked dryly, causing Jon to chuckled. “Please, ladies. Bad timing now. Jared, how's the lock?”, he asked.
Jared looked over his shoulder, a grin on his face. “Give me a minute and we're in”, he answered to Garthon's pleasure. “Dacey, you're ready?”, the Harper asked. She gave him a nod without looking … [view original content]
Garthon
He gave Jon a short nod and the Harper clapped his hands. “Okay, here's the plan. Jared, start to pick the lock. Dacey, get your … morebow ready. If we meet any resistance, aim for the knees. Don't want to kill anyone if it's preventable”, he ordered his men. Both gave him a nod and Jared pulled a lock pick out of his pocket, starting to work on the door.
“What's that smugglers name again?”, Jon asked. “Mosso”, George answered quickly. “I hope we'll meet him there. Would be quite embarrassing to break into the wrong house”, Garthon remarked and George narrowed his eyes. “Do you imply I made a mistake?”, he asked. “Have you?”, Garthon asked dryly, causing Jon to chuckled. “Please, ladies. Bad timing now. Jared, how's the lock?”, he asked.
Jared looked over his shoulder, a grin on his face. “Give me a minute and we're in”, he answered to Garthon's pleasure. “Dacey, you're ready?”, the Harper asked. She gave him a nod without looking … [view original content]
Garthon
He gave Jon a short nod and the Harper clapped his hands. “Okay, here's the plan. Jared, start to pick the lock. Dacey, get your … morebow ready. If we meet any resistance, aim for the knees. Don't want to kill anyone if it's preventable”, he ordered his men. Both gave him a nod and Jared pulled a lock pick out of his pocket, starting to work on the door.
“What's that smugglers name again?”, Jon asked. “Mosso”, George answered quickly. “I hope we'll meet him there. Would be quite embarrassing to break into the wrong house”, Garthon remarked and George narrowed his eyes. “Do you imply I made a mistake?”, he asked. “Have you?”, Garthon asked dryly, causing Jon to chuckled. “Please, ladies. Bad timing now. Jared, how's the lock?”, he asked.
Jared looked over his shoulder, a grin on his face. “Give me a minute and we're in”, he answered to Garthon's pleasure. “Dacey, you're ready?”, the Harper asked. She gave him a nod without looking … [view original content]
Garthon
He gave Jon a short nod and the Harper clapped his hands. “Okay, here's the plan. Jared, start to pick the lock. Dacey, get your … morebow ready. If we meet any resistance, aim for the knees. Don't want to kill anyone if it's preventable”, he ordered his men. Both gave him a nod and Jared pulled a lock pick out of his pocket, starting to work on the door.
“What's that smugglers name again?”, Jon asked. “Mosso”, George answered quickly. “I hope we'll meet him there. Would be quite embarrassing to break into the wrong house”, Garthon remarked and George narrowed his eyes. “Do you imply I made a mistake?”, he asked. “Have you?”, Garthon asked dryly, causing Jon to chuckled. “Please, ladies. Bad timing now. Jared, how's the lock?”, he asked.
Jared looked over his shoulder, a grin on his face. “Give me a minute and we're in”, he answered to Garthon's pleasure. “Dacey, you're ready?”, the Harper asked. She gave him a nod without looking … [view original content]
Garthon
He gave Jon a short nod and the Harper clapped his hands. “Okay, here's the plan. Jared, start to pick the lock. Dacey, get your … morebow ready. If we meet any resistance, aim for the knees. Don't want to kill anyone if it's preventable”, he ordered his men. Both gave him a nod and Jared pulled a lock pick out of his pocket, starting to work on the door.
“What's that smugglers name again?”, Jon asked. “Mosso”, George answered quickly. “I hope we'll meet him there. Would be quite embarrassing to break into the wrong house”, Garthon remarked and George narrowed his eyes. “Do you imply I made a mistake?”, he asked. “Have you?”, Garthon asked dryly, causing Jon to chuckled. “Please, ladies. Bad timing now. Jared, how's the lock?”, he asked.
Jared looked over his shoulder, a grin on his face. “Give me a minute and we're in”, he answered to Garthon's pleasure. “Dacey, you're ready?”, the Harper asked. She gave him a nod without looking … [view original content]
Garthon
He gave Jon a short nod and the Harper clapped his hands. “Okay, here's the plan. Jared, start to pick the lock. Dacey, get your … morebow ready. If we meet any resistance, aim for the knees. Don't want to kill anyone if it's preventable”, he ordered his men. Both gave him a nod and Jared pulled a lock pick out of his pocket, starting to work on the door.
“What's that smugglers name again?”, Jon asked. “Mosso”, George answered quickly. “I hope we'll meet him there. Would be quite embarrassing to break into the wrong house”, Garthon remarked and George narrowed his eyes. “Do you imply I made a mistake?”, he asked. “Have you?”, Garthon asked dryly, causing Jon to chuckled. “Please, ladies. Bad timing now. Jared, how's the lock?”, he asked.
Jared looked over his shoulder, a grin on his face. “Give me a minute and we're in”, he answered to Garthon's pleasure. “Dacey, you're ready?”, the Harper asked. She gave him a nod without looking … [view original content]
No, attacking the city with fifty men would be far too audacious, even for the Storm King. According to his information he has the strongest claim on Raylansfair and he hopes to use this and the presence of his daughter to overcome any difficulties that might arise out of the fact that he is a foreign king who used to wage a very bloody war against the Reach. If he would plan an attack, he would have sent a thousand times as many men and certainly not his daughter. However, Raylansfair would provide him with a tactically extremely useful position in the eastern Reach, so being in a better position for a possible war might be one of his motivations in claiming the city.
Garthon
He gave Jon a short nod and the Harper clapped his hands. “Okay, here's the plan. Jared, start to pick the lock. Dacey, get your … morebow ready. If we meet any resistance, aim for the knees. Don't want to kill anyone if it's preventable”, he ordered his men. Both gave him a nod and Jared pulled a lock pick out of his pocket, starting to work on the door.
“What's that smugglers name again?”, Jon asked. “Mosso”, George answered quickly. “I hope we'll meet him there. Would be quite embarrassing to break into the wrong house”, Garthon remarked and George narrowed his eyes. “Do you imply I made a mistake?”, he asked. “Have you?”, Garthon asked dryly, causing Jon to chuckled. “Please, ladies. Bad timing now. Jared, how's the lock?”, he asked.
Jared looked over his shoulder, a grin on his face. “Give me a minute and we're in”, he answered to Garthon's pleasure. “Dacey, you're ready?”, the Harper asked. She gave him a nod without looking … [view original content]
Garthon
He gave Jon a short nod and the Harper clapped his hands. “Okay, here's the plan. Jared, start to pick the lock. Dacey, get your … morebow ready. If we meet any resistance, aim for the knees. Don't want to kill anyone if it's preventable”, he ordered his men. Both gave him a nod and Jared pulled a lock pick out of his pocket, starting to work on the door.
“What's that smugglers name again?”, Jon asked. “Mosso”, George answered quickly. “I hope we'll meet him there. Would be quite embarrassing to break into the wrong house”, Garthon remarked and George narrowed his eyes. “Do you imply I made a mistake?”, he asked. “Have you?”, Garthon asked dryly, causing Jon to chuckled. “Please, ladies. Bad timing now. Jared, how's the lock?”, he asked.
Jared looked over his shoulder, a grin on his face. “Give me a minute and we're in”, he answered to Garthon's pleasure. “Dacey, you're ready?”, the Harper asked. She gave him a nod without looking … [view original content]
[Choose the Strangler] Are you kidding me? Slower, more painful, inevitable death any day of the week
Argilac slightly chuckled as he … moreheard this. “That's what you got me for, old friend”, he grinned. “By the way, what do we know about that orange guy Brownwell keeps mentioning?” Baron seemed to think about his kings question for a moment and it was Tariel who answered instead. “Yoreen Flowers, known as Orange Yoreen. Bastard son of Ser Maron Mullendore of Oldtown”, she intoned. “Exceptional military career. Surpassed his father in rank ten years ago. Most successful leader the Reachmen had in the dornish marches for centuries. Ironically known as 'Bad Lieutenant'"
Well this is a little awkward.
I found some amusement about your lines about 'fifty good men'. Ramsay did good with 20.
Only two weeks since Lord Raylan died? Not good... I hope these guys return to Raylansfair before Lucas & Leonard, because I don't want Leonard to die.
[Choose the Strangler] Are you kidding me? Slower, more painful, inevitable death any day of the week
Argilac slightly chuckled as he … moreheard this. “That's what you got me for, old friend”, he grinned. “By the way, what do we know about that orange guy Brownwell keeps mentioning?” Baron seemed to think about his kings question for a moment and it was Tariel who answered instead. “Yoreen Flowers, known as Orange Yoreen. Bastard son of Ser Maron Mullendore of Oldtown”, she intoned. “Exceptional military career. Surpassed his father in rank ten years ago. Most successful leader the Reachmen had in the dornish marches for centuries. Ironically known as 'Bad Lieutenant'"
Well this is a little awkward.
I found some amusement about your lines about 'fifty good men'. Ramsay did good with 20.
Only two weeks since Lord Raylan died? Not good... I hope these guys return to Raylansfair before Lucas & Leonard, because I don't want Leonard to die.
Garthon
He gave Jon a short nod and the Harper clapped his hands. “Okay, here's the plan. Jared, start to pick the lock. Dacey, get your … morebow ready. If we meet any resistance, aim for the knees. Don't want to kill anyone if it's preventable”, he ordered his men. Both gave him a nod and Jared pulled a lock pick out of his pocket, starting to work on the door.
“What's that smugglers name again?”, Jon asked. “Mosso”, George answered quickly. “I hope we'll meet him there. Would be quite embarrassing to break into the wrong house”, Garthon remarked and George narrowed his eyes. “Do you imply I made a mistake?”, he asked. “Have you?”, Garthon asked dryly, causing Jon to chuckled. “Please, ladies. Bad timing now. Jared, how's the lock?”, he asked.
Jared looked over his shoulder, a grin on his face. “Give me a minute and we're in”, he answered to Garthon's pleasure. “Dacey, you're ready?”, the Harper asked. She gave him a nod without looking … [view original content]
[Choose Basilisk Venom] I have a feeling that some how this poison is going to end up killing one of our fellow patriots. Either a pro Hoare person discovers it and gives it to the king, who then applies it to one of the rebels, or some horrible horrible accident occurs and one of them are poisoned.
Garthon
He gave Jon a short nod and the Harper clapped his hands. “Okay, here's the plan. Jared, start to pick the lock. Dacey, get your … morebow ready. If we meet any resistance, aim for the knees. Don't want to kill anyone if it's preventable”, he ordered his men. Both gave him a nod and Jared pulled a lock pick out of his pocket, starting to work on the door.
“What's that smugglers name again?”, Jon asked. “Mosso”, George answered quickly. “I hope we'll meet him there. Would be quite embarrassing to break into the wrong house”, Garthon remarked and George narrowed his eyes. “Do you imply I made a mistake?”, he asked. “Have you?”, Garthon asked dryly, causing Jon to chuckled. “Please, ladies. Bad timing now. Jared, how's the lock?”, he asked.
Jared looked over his shoulder, a grin on his face. “Give me a minute and we're in”, he answered to Garthon's pleasure. “Dacey, you're ready?”, the Harper asked. She gave him a nod without looking … [view original content]
Garthon
He gave Jon a short nod and the Harper clapped his hands. “Okay, here's the plan. Jared, start to pick the lock. Dacey, get your … morebow ready. If we meet any resistance, aim for the knees. Don't want to kill anyone if it's preventable”, he ordered his men. Both gave him a nod and Jared pulled a lock pick out of his pocket, starting to work on the door.
“What's that smugglers name again?”, Jon asked. “Mosso”, George answered quickly. “I hope we'll meet him there. Would be quite embarrassing to break into the wrong house”, Garthon remarked and George narrowed his eyes. “Do you imply I made a mistake?”, he asked. “Have you?”, Garthon asked dryly, causing Jon to chuckled. “Please, ladies. Bad timing now. Jared, how's the lock?”, he asked.
Jared looked over his shoulder, a grin on his face. “Give me a minute and we're in”, he answered to Garthon's pleasure. “Dacey, you're ready?”, the Harper asked. She gave him a nod without looking … [view original content]
Well, this choice probably won't make that much of a difference, given that he had to choose between a deadly poison and a slower deadly poison. Emphasis on 'probably' though, as you can never know what might happen.
The next part is half written and should be finished later today. It's going to be a Jaron part and... ah, well, you better read for yourselves. Behold the consequences of your actions!
Hopefully the stalling gets Leonard time to escape. I wish Jaron had just joined Butterfly. Now crap is going to happen and it's all because of this fucking problem.
The Voting is closed!
Garthon will choose to buy the Strangler
Well, this choice probably won't make that much of a difference, given … morethat he had to choose between a deadly poison and a slower deadly poison. Emphasis on 'probably' though, as you can never know what might happen.
The next part is half written and should be finished later today. It's going to be a Jaron part and... ah, well, you better read for yourselves. Behold the consequences of your actions!
The Voting is closed!
Garthon will choose to buy the Strangler
Well, this choice probably won't make that much of a difference, given … morethat he had to choose between a deadly poison and a slower deadly poison. Emphasis on 'probably' though, as you can never know what might happen.
The next part is half written and should be finished later today. It's going to be a Jaron part and... ah, well, you better read for yourselves. Behold the consequences of your actions!
Jaron couldn't lower his sword. He couldn't do this to Harpy and he couldn't trust Butterfly. No, he couldn't give up now. But simply attacking him would be suicide. His only chance would be to continue their talk. His only chance would be to give Martin more time.
“So what, bastard?”, Butterfly growled. “I'm waiting. Lower your sword” Jaron ignored this remark and forced himself to look Butterfly in the eye. The crimelord had a cruel smirk on his face and his stare was one of the worst things Jaron ever saw. “What are you going to do to her?”, Jaron asked in an attempt to get more time.
Butterfly raised an eyebrow. “You want to hear the details?”, he asked in surprise. “That is unexpected. Are you sure you want to burden yourself with this knowledge? I mean, that must be hard enough for you as it is”
“Jaron?”, Harpy whispered behind him and the scared sound in her voice nearly broke his heart. But he had to continue, for her sake, for his sake. “Every detail. You're right it's hard for me, but if I'm going to sell her out, I want to know exactly what you're going to do to her”, he answered and Harpy's hand on his shoulder clenched. “Jaron?”, she asked again, slightly louder. He ignored her.
“Oh, I'll mostly improvise. I'm obviously going to remove a few parts. Some of them for the better, like that annoying tongue. It's going to be sad for her eyes, but I'm sure all will be well in the end”, Butterfly answered with a sickening laugh. “For me at least. For her? Probably not so much. We're making an example of her, but we're not going to kill her. I'm going to have fun with her, Tom is going to have fun with her, Moggy is going to have fun with her, but we're not going to kill her. That honour will go to the Burned Man, when we send what's left of her back to him”
“Kill him, please”, Harpy whispered. “Kill him, I can't stand another word from him!” Her voice raised in anger and obvious panic, while Butterfly's grin widened. “Not so calm now, right?”, he snarled. “You made a grievous mistake, you little cunt” He looked at Jaron again and his grin vanished. “Never trust a bastard. They are rotten beasts, with treachery in their blood”, he whispered and a patronizing smile appeared on his face.
“But you're not that bad of course, Ser Bastard!”, he shouted and attempted to take a step towards Jaron. He stopped as the latter's blade moved towards his throat. For a moment, Butterfly's eyes widened, but there was no fear in them. Just something that had to be madness. Jaron hoped it would be madness, for he couldn't bare the thought of a sane man doing all of this. “Or perhaps I was wrong”, the crimelord whispered. “Perhaps you want to die alongside her. Together in dead, the stuff that tragedies are made of”
He slowly turned around and it would have been easy for Jaron to end it. Just a single step and he would have been able to thrust his blade into Butterfly's back. But he remained frozen, looking towards the edge of the illuminated circle, trying to count how many men they were up against. There was Butterfly and somewhere behind him the Tom, his white mask barely visible. The massive body of the Moggy stood silently between them and the door. And occasionally there was movement. He heard it more than he saw it, but there had to be around a dozen men with them in this warehouse. And Robb, who's allegiance was questionable at best.
“She infected your mind already, am I right?”, Butterfly asked. “The sickness inside of her, inside of this city, it already affected you enough to give you an opinion on me without even meeting me” Jaron clenched the fist of his wounded arm as he heard this, sending a light shiver of pain through his lower arm. “Perhaps it had something to do with your men trying to kill me!”, he growled.
Butterfly turned around again, his eyes clearly thirsty of blood. “They would still like to do it. Many of them knew the men who died on that day and they would love to make you pay. The only thing that stops them is me and my courtesy”, he snarled. “So, next time I give you an order you better follow it or I'll stop being polite. And now lower your sword!”
Jaron's sword remained where it was, raised and pointed at the crimelord. Butterfly closed his eyes. “Alright then...”, he mumbled. “Seems like we skip the negotiations” He raised his hand, but before he could lower it again, the sound of a door getting opened interrupted him. For a short moment, Jaron's heart beat wildly as he hoped that Martin would enter the warehouse. But the small ray of sunlight that fell into the building illuminated not only the dozen men who surrounded him and Harpy, but also a man he had never seen before.
“Butterfly!”, the newcomer shouted. “Martin Wilshere has been sighted at the docks! He has almost a dozen men with him and he's heading towards our position” Butterfly narrowed his eyes and looked back at Jaron, who couldn't resist to smirk triumphantly. “Oh, you little bastard”, the crimelord whispered. “You're going to regret that” He looked towards his men. “Tom!”, he shouted and the man with the white cat mask took a step towards him. “Yes, Butterfly?”, he asked in a monotone voice.
“Take the Moggy and retreat to the headquarters. Gather twenty good men and return here. You have one hour”, Butterfly ordered him and even through the mask and the darkness, Jaron could see the displeased facial expression of the Tom. “What?”, he growled. “You're sending me away?”
“You can spill their blood another time, but for now I need you to gather reinforcements and I need your best man to protect you”, Butterfly explained and the Tom gave him a reluctant nod. “If this is the Butterfly's wish”, he mumbled and Butterfly gave him a short, pleased nod. “It is”, the crimelord answered and the Tom let out a sigh. “Moggy!”, he snarled and the giant moved closer like a loyal dog. “We're leaving. You follow me and if anyone tries to stop us you kill them, do you understand?”
The Moggy gave him a slow nod and let out a deep growl. His red eyes moved towards Jaron and the aggressiveness in them caused the knight to shiver. He was glad that this man wouldn't be among his enemies today. The Tom looked at Butterfly, slightly shaking his head. For a moment it looked like he was about to say something, but instead he just turned around and left the building through the backdoor. The Moggy followed close behind, his massive body having trouble in fitting through the door.
“And now you, Bastard...”, Butterfly whispered. “Ready to face the consequences of your actions?” And that was the moment in which Jaron realized that he wouldn't come any further with talking. He darted forwards, trying to hit Butterfly's unguarded chest with his sword. The crimelord took a quick step backwards, while moving his hand towards the hilt hanging on his belt, swiftly drawing a short, single-edged sword and parrying the strike. “All our cards are on the table, Ser Bastard”, Butterfly shouted with a mocking voice while quickly striking at Jaron's wounded arm. The knight barely managed to parry and being limited to using only one arm handicapped him tremendously. “Your pathetic attempt at killing me is over. Your friends will come too late. I offered you a chance, but you decided to die alongside your little bitch. And now... now we're going to end this!”, the crimelord exclaimed.
Out of the shadows, the sound of steel being drawn was heard. Robb looked around in fear, his hand moving to the hilt of his sword. “Robb, stay out of this and I will spare you!”, Butterfly promised and the mercenary visibly considered his offer. His hand was still on the hilt of his sword, but he took no further action. Jaron frowned at the thought that he had spared this coward from further beating yesterday. Right now, Robb would deserve every beating in the world in Jaron's eyes.
“Take them alive if possible!”, Butterfly commanded his men while he effortlessly parried another strike from Jaron. His riposte was quick, brutal and merciless, targeting Jaron's already wounded ribs. This time, Jaron didn't manage to parry the strike, instead he only managed to deflect it. It still hit him at the upper leg and the sound of steel clashing against steel was heard as Butterfly's sword failed to pierce the armour. Yet the blow was still hard enough to cause Jaron to stagger backwards.
Jaron heard the movement behind him, men closing in on him and Harpy. Before he could take a look over his shoulder, Butterfly attacked again. His blows lacked any skill, instead he held his sword almost like a cleaver, striking like a butcher, but he was strong, far stronger than Jaron would have been with both arms and he was surprisingly fast.
Still at the edge of the illuminated circle stood Robb, his right hand resting on the hilt of his sword. He looked from Butterfly to Jaron, apparently unsure what to do. And behind Jaron he heard a deep gurgle, the sound of steel falling to the ground and a surprised gasp. “Kill that bitch!”, a man behind him screamed in sudden panic before his voice turned into a gurgle and Jaron didn't even need to see what just happened. He saw the displeased expression on Butterfly's face and that was enough.
Still, as he quickly glimpsed over his shoulder he saw Harpy standing right behind him, facing a small crowd of men who slowly came closer. On the ground lay the first man who tried to attack her, his throat cut by his own blade. She was holding the sword as if she was holding a torch, as if she was trying to scare away a group of wild animals. And the way these men moved reminded Jaron of exactly that, of animals closing in on their prey.
To his right another man stepped out of the shadows, slowly moving towards him, while Butterfly took the chance to attack again. The crimelord swung his sword in a high curve, nearly cleaving Jaron's head in if he hadn't managed to raise his sword in the last moment. Still, the force of the blow was enough to send Jaron staggering to the side and to the ground. Harpy gave him a worried look as she glanced at him over her shoulder and one of her opponents took this opportunity to attack her. She barely managed to raise her sword high enough to parry the strike and the force of it still nearly disarmed her. Her opponent's blade nearly grazed her cheek, but to Jaron's relief it only cut through thin air. A second man used the moment she needed to regain her balance to brutally club her on the head with the hilt of his sword. Harpy went to the ground, three men grabbing her, while Jaron still tried to get back to his feet again. Of course, she tried to resist, but had little to offer against one of the men who started to repeatedly punch her in her face.
Butterfly and one of his men walked towards Jaron, the crimelord having a malevolent grin on his face. “The whore is down, her bastard will follow”, he growled and the man accompanying him raised his sword, ready to end Jaron's life. The knight raised his sword in a desperate attempt of parrying the strike, knowing fully well that he wasn't strong enough for this.
All of a sudden, Butterfly's expression changed, from malevolence to surprise, as the edge of a blade was thrusted through his accomplices chest. The men went to the ground, clutching at the hole in his chest and revealed Robb, standing behind him. “Get her!”, the mercenary shouted, as he turned around to face Butterfly, both men clearly boiling with anger.
“That was a mistake, Robb...”, Butterfly growled, as Jaron managed to get on his knees again. “I'm going to cut off your...”, the crimelord continued, but Robb cut him off by charging at him. “Not another word, you goddamn monster!”, the mercenary screamed at the top of his lungs and forced Butterfly to get defensive as he started to deliver a series of fierce blows at him.
In the meantime, Jaron had managed to get to his feet again, storming towards the men who were still holding Harpy down. One of them was beating her, his knuckles already stained with her blood. He wasn't even paying attention to Jaron, but the rest of the men around him were. One of them was kneeling on the ground, but quickly stood up as Jaron charged towards him.
“Should have stayed on the ground, bastard”, he sneered and attempted to attack him. He didn't even manage to land a single attack as Jaron swiftly striked at his head, his sword slicing through his throat, sending him to the ground. The next man raised his sword and tried to jump at Jaron, ignoring his own defence in the process. Jaron rammed his sword through the man's unguarded stomach area, sending him to the ground, coughing up blood and desperately trying to hold his intestines inside of him.
Finally he came into reach of the monsters who were beating up Harpy. They were crouching on the ground, two of them were holding down her arms, while the third was punching her in the face. She was still conscious and desperately tried to break free from their grip, albeit her weak attempts were clearly chanceless. The dim light inside of the warehouse made it hard for them to notice Jaron, but as soon as he got close to them, they jumped up. The men who were holding her arms quickly drew their blades, the man who was hitting her had no time to do this. Jaron knew, it would have been wiser to attack the armed men first, but right now he did not care. Harpy's blood stained his opponent's knuckles and blind rage took control over Jaron as he cleaved the man's head nearly in half.
The two men who were left standing quickly took their chance at attacking Jaron from different sides. In a single second, Jaron noticed that he had made a mistake by attacking the unarmed man first. He raised his sword, parrying the strike coming from his right, while trying to move sideways to evade the strike coming from his left. To his surprise, the man to his right failed to parry Jaron's strike and was hit in the side. Any thoughts of triumph quickly left Jaron, as he realized that he wouldn't be able to evade the second strike. He raised his wounded left arm in a desperate attempt of protecting his unarmed head...
A shockwave of pain flashed through his arm as his opponent's sword hit the plated gauntlet. It failed to break through the armour, but caused easily enough pain to send Jaron to the ground as he screamed in sheer agony. The bone in his forearm was thumping with pain and tears were flowing down his face. His opponent raised his sword again, attempting to end it. Jaron closed his eyes...
...and opened them again as he heard movement, the sound of a blade hitting the ground, a surprised groan, someone gasping for air...
Harpy had jumped up, tackling Jaron's opponent to the ground, in her hand a large dagger. She had cleanly ripped open his throat with her blade and was screaming in rage as she raised her dagger again and again, spilling the dying man's blood around. Her face was badly bruised, blood was flowing out of her nose and from her cheeks, but the look in her eyes was truly murderous. Jaron's other opponent was lying on the ground, with blood flowing out of his wounded side. He had visible problems to breath and even though Jaron was no healer, it was clear that the man's wounds were fatal. At least for a short moment, there was no one attacking them.
Jaron used this opportunity to take a look around. Several men were still present in the warehouse, slowly closing in on Jaron and Harpy. They knew they only needed to wait. The pain in Jaron's arm was bad enough to make him struggle for consciousness. And Harpy was wounded, in blind rage and clearly unable to defend herself against half a dozen men. Behind them stood Butterfly, still fighting against Robb.
The mercenary was clearly the more skilled fighter, but he was visibly boiling in anger, which caused him to put less skill in his attacks. Butterfly on the other hand was stronger and faster, his blows hitting Robb like the kick of a horse. On top of that, Jaron noticed that Robb was ignoring his own defence, relying solely on forcing Butterfly to parry his fierce strikes. And indeed, Butterfly seemed to have problems to parry the attacks. Instead, he took a quick step sideways, letting Robb's blade only hit thin air, as his own sword darted towards the mercenary, cutting through leather and chainmail and flesh. Robb let out a grunt as the blade fell from his weak hand, looking down on the sword that was plunged in his abdomen. Butterfly grabbed him at the shoulder and slowly twisted the blade, causing Robb to gurgle in pain, as a gust of blood flew out of his mouth.
“You managed to put up a good fight, bastard”, the crimelord shouted as he was pulling his sword out of Robb's body with a sickeningly squishing sound. “I could have needed someone like you in my ranks. You could have done good, you could have been a hero. Still, you chose to fight me, you stupid little prick!”
A merciless smile was seen on his face as he looked at the bloody blade. “Robb siding against me came as a surprise. In the end he was infected by the same sickness that cripples this city, the sickness that was caused by your girl and her pimp, the same sickness I see inside of you. And he paid the price for it, just as you will”, he growled as his men were slowly closing in on Jaron and Harpy. Behind him, Robb did his last breath, as his body grew limp, as his eyes stopped moving. Butterfly pointed his blade at Jaron and Harpy. She had stopped stabbing her opponent and was now standing above Jaron, as if she tried to protect him. He was able to see her face, her bloody, bruised, tear-stained, unarguably beautiful face and the expression he saw made him shiver. She was ready to fight to the last breath if needed. Butterfly noticed it too and chuckled slightly. “And now you need a girl to protect you. Pathetic. You are pathetic, you and your little slu...”
He was cut off by the sound of the warehouses large door getting opened. Bright sunlight illuminated the building and Butterfly staggered backwards in surprise. His men hissed, almost like animals as they raised their hands, trying to shield their eyes from the sudden sunlight. Nearly a dozen men stood in the open door, armed to the teeth. Jaron recognized none of them, until a familiar face appeared in the crowd.
“Good day, you fucking insect”, Martin said joyfully and a wide grin appeared on Jaron's face as he looked at Harpy. She had her eyes wide open in shock, in relief, her mouth opening and closing. Tears were still flowing down her face, but her mouth formed a manic grin as she was sinking to the ground. She was still holding on to her sword with her right hand, but her left found Jaron's arm and rested on it. The look she gave him meant the world to him. Butterfly on the other hand seemed to be surprisingly collected for a man who was suddenly outnumbered two to one. “I really hope I am interrupting something here”, Martin continued and pointed his sword at Butterfly. “We outnumber you two to one and my men have surrounded the warehouse. Give up and we can end this quickly”
In this moment, the backdoor behind Butterfly was opened with enough force to nearly rip it out of it's angles and a huge figure stepped in. For a moment, Jaron feared that it was the Moggy, that Butterfly's back-up had arrived. But then he recognized the huge frame of Bakr al-Astapori, his partner Abbas following closely. Every ounce of the usual friendliness had vanished from Bakr's face as he looked at Butterfly, holding a large bearded axe in his massive hands. Abbas was armed with two short strangely curved swords, like the one that were usually used by the Dothraki.
“Greetings, Butterfly”, Abbas said with mocking politeness, as the crimelords men were drawing away from them, gathering in the middle of the warehouse in an attempt to shield their leader. There were eight of them remaining, not counting the crimelord himself. Against him stood almost a dozen with Martin, as well as the two Ghiscari. “My name is Abbas al-Yunkari and this loveable brute next to me is my friend and business partner Bakr al-Astapori”, Abbas introduced himself. “It's hard to make a man like me angry, but you... oh, you disgust me. Today I am here for one thing...” He pointed one of his blades at the crimelord. “To give you fucking bastard exactly what you deserve”
“What I deserve?”, Butterfly asked with a dangerously low voice. “You want to give me what I deserve?” Before Martin could answer, a young woman whom Jaron had never seen before stepped up. Her skin was as pale as snow and her hair was dark blonde, tied up to a strict bun. Her face was gaunt, but still pretty to look at, while the expression in her light blue eyes was full of hatred. She was holding a small hatchet in each hand and was clearly trembling with anger. “You're Butterfly?”, she asked and her voice shivered and cracked.
Butterfly took a mocking bow. “What's it to you, you whore?”, he asked and a cruel smile appeared on the woman's face. “Leave him to me...”, she growled at Martin and he gave her a short nod. Butterfly on the other hand let out a sigh. “Another one who wants to kill me. How annoying”, he snarled, pointing his sword at Martin and his men. “I won't go down easy. You want me? First you have to pay, with blood! Get them, boys!”, he screamed and his men answered with a loud warcry before they began charging at Martin and his mercenaries, at Abbas, at Bakr. None of them even paid attention to Jaron and Harpy. She finally let go of her sword, the blade falling to the ground with a loud noise as she fell backwards onto the ground, right next to Jaron. A blissful smile appeared on her face as she looked at him. “It's over...”, she mumbled. “He can't win this...”
Indeed, Butterfly's men were vastly outnumbered, but they still managed to put up a surprisingly good fight. And they refused to run and refused to yield. They preferred to die for their master. The first to die was one of Martin's mercenaries, who was nearly eviscerated by one of Butterfly's men until Martin stepped in. Butterfly himself managed to kill a man who dared to attack him, before the blonde woman who spoke earlier managed to engage into single combat with him. Her hatchets had a clear disadvantage over Butterfly's sword, but she did not seem to be hindered by this. Instead, she quickly forced him into the defensive, like Robb had done earlier, her hatchets delivering a rain of strikes and blows that made it hard for Butterfly to defend himself.
To Jaron's right, Bakr's massive axe split the skull of one of his opponent's in half, while Abbas was spinning around, fighting against two enemies at once. His fighting style reminded Jaron of the braavosi water dance, while Bakr simply relied on brutal strength. None of Butterfly's men was a match for them.
Martin quickly dispatched of another opponent and darted towards Jaron and Harpy, while Butterfly was still fighting for his life behind him. The whole battle was over quickly, as Butterfly's men were chanceless against the Burned Man's mercenaries. Martin himself took a glance over his shoulder, were Butterfly was still fighting against the blonde-haired woman. The crimelord was surrounded by the surviving mercenaries, but he still refused to give up. It was clear that he was defeated, but even if he wanted to give up, the woman did not look ready to allow him.
Joyful laughter sounded as Harpy was running towards Martin. The mercenary threw his blades on the ground and grabbed her at the waist, raising her high in the air while spinning her around in rejoicement. She was still wearing her brazen hairpin, albeit a few strands of reddish brown hair were loosened, flowing freely in the wind as she tightly hugged Martin. “We won...”, she mumbled, her eyes wide opened in amazement. Martin's smile vanished as he looked towards the crimelord, who was still fighting. “Not yet...”, he growled. He let go of Harpy and slowly walked to his men. She gave Jaron a short look, before grabbing his healthy arm with both of her hands. “Can you stand up?”, she asked and Jaron gave her a reluctant nod. “I hope so...”, he mumbled and a worried expression flashed over her face. Softly, but with determination, she pulled him back to his feet, clutching his healthy hand up to the point where it almost hurt. Jaron did not mind. In this moment he barely noticed the thumping pain in his left arm, the tiredness that was rising inside of him. They were alive. They had won! Almost at least...
Butterfly and the blonde-haired woman had just exchanged a few blows and were now circling around each other like wolves, trying to spot a weakness in the other one's defences. “Stay back!”, she shouted as one of the mercenaries attempted to attack Butterfly's unguarded back. “He's mine!”
The crimelord had an almost corteous smirk on his face and nearly took a bow in front of her. “Oh, my lady, what have I done to deserve your hatred?”, he asked. “I never forget a face, but I still can't remember you” She narrowed her eyes, her stare piercing at him. “My name is Samantha Ducard...”, she growled. “You ordered my families death, just to train one of your killers!” She spat these words at him and Butterfly raised an eyebrow. “Ah, you're from the North then...”, he answered. “I see... that makes sense. If it gives you some comfort, I'm sure your worthless family deserved it!”
Jaron immediately realized that the crimelord took it too far with this. Provoking an enemy was always a risky move. Robb had been too angry to fight without mistakes and that caused his death. Samantha on the other hand was even more angry, her facial expression twisted with fury and hatred. She was beyond simple anger and she wouldn't make a mistake. If anything, Butterfly's death just got a lot more painful.
She let out a cry of pure, helpless rage as she started to deliver a hurricane of blows at Butterfly, faster than anything Jaron had ever seen. The crimelord's lack of skill became apparent now as he barely managed to parry or dodge her strikes. He was forced to take a few steps backwards, while she followed closely, attacking him with both weapons simultaneously. A simple feint proved to be his undoing as a strike that was seemingly aimed for his upper arm hit him in the upper leg instead. The hatchet easily broke through Butterfly's trousers, causing a deep gash at his left upper leg. The crimelord let out a cry of pain, but managed to parry her second hatchet regardless before going down on his knees.
Even now he was only slightly smaller than Samantha, his shoulders still twice as broad as hers. He had grabbed his sword with both hands, parrying the hatchet she was holding in her left hand. With a squishing sound she was removing her second hatchet from his leg, causing Butterfly to grimace in agony. Out of a reflex, his left hand moved down to clutch his bleeding leg. Jaron noticed the smirk on Harpy's face as Samantha raised the hatchet in her right hand and he knew what the woman was about to do. She could have split his skull right now, she could have cut his throat. She could have given him an easy death. Instead her hatchet moved down almost too quick for Jaron's eyes to follow, hitting Butterfly's arm and cleanly severing his right sword hand at the wrist.
For a single second, Butterfly did not react to the injury. He just knelt on the ground, looking at the stump where his hand used to be. A groan of sheer agony forced it's way out of his throat and he looked from his wound to Samantha's cold face, his own facial expression being located somewhere between agony, disbelief and shock. But he did not scream.
Just as he was about to sink backwards to the ground, Samantha grabbed him at the collar of his shirt with her left hand, preventing him from sliding to the ground. Tears were flowing down Butterfly's face as he visibly resisted the urge to scream. His stare moved back to his bleeding stump, to the severed hand on the ground and to Samantha. For a short moment, no one said a word, not even Harpy, who was still clutching Jaron's hand. And then, Samantha raised the hatchet in her right hand.
“This is for all the people you killed!”, she shouted, slamming the hilt of her hatchet down into his face. The force of the blow was enough to cause a cracking sound as it hit the crimelord's nose. “For all the families you've destroyed!”, she yelled again, violently hitting his mouth with the wooden hilt of her hatchet. Butterfly's head was pushed back and he had to spit on the ground, a mixture of saliva and blood and teeth. “For all the lives you have stolen!”, Samantha screamed, hitting him in the nose again, completely smashing it. “This is your reckoning, you son of a bitch!”
With these words she delivered a series of brutal blows to his face, slamming the hilt of her hatchet into his ruined mouth, against his slightly dislocated jaw, into his smashed nose and deep into his left eye. As she pulled it back, the hilt of her hatchet was stained with his blood, his face a broken ruin. One of his eyes was bleeding red, clearly destroyed. His nose was smashed beyond recognition, his jaw dislocated and his open mouth revealed that at least half of his teeth weren't more than shattered stumps. Finally, Samantha let go of Butterfly, allowing him to sink to the ground, where he was breathing heavily, still alive, still conscious, but shattered and broken.
The moment of mercy was gone as quickly as it came and Samantha violently stomped on Butterfly's unprotected crotch. The force of the kick caused a barely conscious Butterfly to scream in pain and in terror as he involuntarily spat a mixture of blood and saliva into her face. With a disgusted expression, Samantha took a step backwards, looking around at the mercenaries. “Do you have any last words, you disgusting pig?”, she asked.
“Wait!”, another voice shouted. Harpy. Jaron looked towards her and shortly met her gaze. He did not like what he saw. Of course, she looked pleased and he couldn't hold this against her. But there was something else in her eyes, something dark. Years of fear and despair were visible on her face, years in which she had cowered in terror under Butterfly.
“He is not yours to kill”, Harpy mumbled. She and Samantha looked each other in the eye and the hateful expression in the woman's face vanished, showing a deep understanding. “I see...”, Samantha answered sullenly. “He is all yours”
Harpy gave her a nod and grabbed the brazen hairpin, pulling it our of her hair in a quick movement. Long strands of reddish brown hair fell down to her shoulders as she was clutching onto the hairpin. “That one's going to be more painful”, she mumbled and it was unclear if she was talking to anyone in specific. Jaron and Martin exchanged a worried look and the knight walked up to her, putting his unwounded hand onto her shoulder. She tensed up under his touch and gave him a short and frightened glare that quickly got warmer as she recognized him.
“Harpy are you...”, he attempted to say, but she cut him off. “Don't...”, she answered quickly. “Just... don't...” She looked back at Butterfly, whose expression of pain had vanished. Instead, his usual infuriating smirk had returned. “Settling the score, right, you fucking whore?”, he growled and his voice sounded barely intelligible.
“You are awfully smug for a man who is about to die...”, Harpy answered and Butterfly gave her a weak nod. “I know, even if you kill me you have lost”, he revealed. “You failed to kill the Tom. Samuel and Jaylon weren't here. All my other lieutenants. They are still out there. You think they will just give up? Think again...”
He raised the stump of his right arm, looking at it while a mad smile was formed on his face. “You can kill me, but you can't kill Butterfly. This dream is bigger than me. If you kill me, my men will do everything to avenge my death. I am the one keeping them in line. Without me, this city will drown in violence”, he explained. “But I don't want to die. I am willing to retreat. I am willing to give up and to withdraw from this city”
“And why should I allow this?”, Harpy spat. She attempted to get closer to him, but Jaron raised his arm in her way, forcing her to stop. Butterfly gave him a grin. “Clever bastard”, he complimented him. “Keeping your bitch on a leash, so that the men can talk in peace. She is a dumb child. But you... you are cunning, am I right? You realize the chance I give you. Take me back to your cripple and I am willing to talk”
“The hell we're going to do!”, Harpy growled. “Get out of my way, Jaron. He has to die!” Butterfly slightly shook his head. “Proves my point. Stop her from killing me and we can end this war”, he explained. “I only need one more thing in this city, something that is not concerning you or the Burned Man. At this moment, Samuel is getting it for me and when he has it, I am willing to retreat. I will take all of my men with me”
“You can't trust him!”, Harpy yelled. “Don't let his lies cloud your judgement. Step aside and let me kill him!” She looked past Jaron towards Butterfly. “You are going to curse the day you were born, you monster! When I am done with you, you will beg for death”
A weak laughter found its way out of Butterfly's throat. “Oh, shut up you worthless halfbreed harlot!”, he growled. “You want me to beg for my death? Let me tell you how it's done. I took their tiny hands and chopped of their fingers, one by one. I enjoyed their high-pitched screams when I blinded them. I whispered into their ear 'Butterfly, Butterfly', so that they don't forget my name... Many of them screamed your name, begged you to help them. But you never did. And it took me a while to punish them for all their crimes, but then... That's how you make someone beg for death” He looked at Harpy, who stood there frozen in terror. “Is that what you want to do?”
His remaining eye looked back at Jaron and his smile got even more cruel. “You hate me for what I am, but still you can't bring yourself to kill me, right? You are a little honourable knight. You have moral guidelines that make you so much better than me, you self-righteous little prick! I am wounded and unarmed and willing to surrender. I know you have to do everything to stop this stupid child from killing me, by your honour!”, he growled and tried to spit Jaron in the face. The blood barely managed to leave his mouth.
“You are not as stupid as your cross-breed cunt here, right?”, Butterfly hissed and Harpy was trembling with anger, the hairpin in her hand shivering. “You can see what I am offering you here. Kill me and continue the war. Spare me, allow me to take one last thing, this thing that does not affect you at all. Spare me and this war is over”
Butterfly stopped, looking at his arm stump. “I offered you peace!”, he spat and the sudden yelling was enough to surprise even Harpy. “I offered you peace, I always did. Peace for this city, peace for everyone who would only abide the law. All will be well, he promised it, he promised it to me! I always offered you nothing but peace and look how you repaid me!” He raised the bleeding stump and pointed it at Jaron. “I gave you everything and look how you repaid me...”, the broken crimelord mumbled.
“Step aside...”, Harpy mumbled softly, tears flowing down her face. “Let me end his life. You know we can't trust him. Just put your honour aside for once, Jaron. This was never about honour. This was never about justice. This was about our survival” Her stare got bleak as she looked away from him and from Butterfly. “This is about our survival. Yours. Mine. Martin's. Ellena's. All the others who are threatened by him. This is not about your honour. As long as he is alive, we can't be safe. As long as he is alive, we...” She paused and started to weep in grief. “All the lives he destroyed and still he has the audacity to beg for mercy”, she mumbled and as she looked up, her eyes were full of hatred.
“Oh, the little bitch is angry...”, Butterfly mocked her. “Hold her back, bastard. You know it's the right choice. We both know you are too honourable to allow her to kill a man who is not a danger anymore”
“But he is...”, Harpy mumbled. “He can't be trusted. As long as he is alive, he will continue to hunt us. Step aside and let me end this threat. Let me end this, allow me to make him pay!” Her teary eyes met Jaron's stare and the knight never felt that conflicted before. Butterfly was right, killing a wounded and unarmed man wasn't honourable. But Harpy was right too. He deserved it and worse.
“Come on, bastard. Get me to the Burned Man, I don't have time all day for your shit!”, Butterfly shouted and Harpy growled something in barely intelligible Ghiscari. “I will make you pay”, she hissed in Westerosi again. “Just once before you die, you will learn the true meaning of fear, you will learn what pain is. Just once, you will beg like you made them beg”
Butterfly let out an annoyed sigh. “Do not give promises you can't keep”, he mumbled. “Your honourable prick of a bastard knight has to stop you, we both know it. And do me a favour, shut your whoring mouth, for I am tired of your words!”
Harpy narrowed her eyes and focussed her stare at his remaining eye. “I will hear you scream before you die”, she promised and Jaron had no doubt that she would do her best to keep this promise. He knew, Butterfly would deserve it. But what if he was saying the truth? What if this war could be ended by sparing him? What if he would retreat? And what if he was lying? Could he trust him?
[Step aside and allow her to kill Butterfly][Try to convince Harpy to spare Butterfly]
He was cut off by the sound of the warehouses large door getting opened. Bright sunlight illuminated the building and Butterfly staggered ba… moreckwards in surprise. His men hissed, almost like animals as they raised their hands, trying to shield their eyes from the sudden sunlight. Nearly a dozen men stood in the open door, armed to the teeth. Jaron recognized none of them, until a familiar face appeared in the crowd.
“Good day, you fucking insect”, Martin said joyfully and a wide grin appeared on Jaron's face as he looked at Harpy. She had her eyes wide open in shock, in relief, her mouth opening and closing. Tears were still flowing down her face, but her mouth formed a manic grin as she was sinking to the ground. She was still holding on to her sword with her right hand, but her left found Jaron's arm and rested on it. The look she gave him meant the world to him. Butterfly on the other hand seemed to be surprisingly collected for a man wh… [view original content]
[Try to convince Harpy to spare Butterfly] Not killing him. Don't be a fool.
This entire part reminded me of Carver's demise. And of the Crooked Man. Well, Butterfly as a whole reminds me of the Crooked Man.
Butterfly got fucked up. God why did Jaron not just negotiate. I kind of expected a better effort from Butterfly's men.
Gather twenty good men and return here.
Did you think I wouldn't see this?
You know what I just realized? Let's examine
“The hell we're going to do!”, Harpy growled. “Get out of my way, Jaron. He has to die!” Butterfly slightly shook his head. “Proves my point. Stop her from killing me and we can end this war”, he explained. “I only need one more thing in this city, something that is not concerning you or the Burned Man. At this moment, Samuel is getting it for me and when he has it, I am willing to retreat. I will take all of my men with me”
This is from Lucas' last part:
“Yeah, we already know that”, Leonard answered impatiently. “Listen, if there's nothing else, we have a meeting with a group of guardsmen...” “At the Blind Helmsman Inn, we know”, the girl finished his sentence, causing Lucas to open his mouth in surprise. “You... you know?”, he stuttered and the girl gave him a nod. “And Butterfly knows it too”, she revealed to Lucas horror. “I was sent to inform you that Samuel Harrington, the Fang of Shadows, was seen approaching the inn not long ago. The Burned Man wishes to inform you of this and hopes that you manage to save your friends in time”, she added and took a polite bow. “You better hurry”, she warned them and disappeared in the crowd again, leaving a shocked Lucas and Leonard behind.
He's going for Dairon. It all makes sense. The Burned Man knows this, but I don't think anyone here in this part on his side knows. Which is a problem because we will face if we kill or spare him. And with the Burned Man's men (that sounded weird) occupied, we will need Mullendore, who probably is plotting the Burned Man's demise. God it's complicated.
He was cut off by the sound of the warehouses large door getting opened. Bright sunlight illuminated the building and Butterfly staggered ba… moreckwards in surprise. His men hissed, almost like animals as they raised their hands, trying to shield their eyes from the sudden sunlight. Nearly a dozen men stood in the open door, armed to the teeth. Jaron recognized none of them, until a familiar face appeared in the crowd.
“Good day, you fucking insect”, Martin said joyfully and a wide grin appeared on Jaron's face as he looked at Harpy. She had her eyes wide open in shock, in relief, her mouth opening and closing. Tears were still flowing down her face, but her mouth formed a manic grin as she was sinking to the ground. She was still holding on to her sword with her right hand, but her left found Jaron's arm and rested on it. The look she gave him meant the world to him. Butterfly on the other hand seemed to be surprisingly collected for a man wh… [view original content]
He was cut off by the sound of the warehouses large door getting opened. Bright sunlight illuminated the building and Butterfly staggered ba… moreckwards in surprise. His men hissed, almost like animals as they raised their hands, trying to shield their eyes from the sudden sunlight. Nearly a dozen men stood in the open door, armed to the teeth. Jaron recognized none of them, until a familiar face appeared in the crowd.
“Good day, you fucking insect”, Martin said joyfully and a wide grin appeared on Jaron's face as he looked at Harpy. She had her eyes wide open in shock, in relief, her mouth opening and closing. Tears were still flowing down her face, but her mouth formed a manic grin as she was sinking to the ground. She was still holding on to her sword with her right hand, but her left found Jaron's arm and rested on it. The look she gave him meant the world to him. Butterfly on the other hand seemed to be surprisingly collected for a man wh… [view original content]
Oh god, I just realized this. It was completely unintentional, I swear XD
This entire part reminded me of Carver's demise. And of the Crooked Man. Well, Butterfly as a whole reminds me of the Crooked Man.
That one the other hand is absolutely intenional. Both, the Burned Man and Butterfly got a few personality traits than can also be found in the Crooked Man. The personality of Butterfly in particular was also influenced by Carver.
God why did Jaron not just negotiate.
Actually, this wouldn't have changed much about the outcome. After the chapter finale I will go into greater detail for the alternative choices, but the end result would have been the same in this option.
He's going for Dairon.
Yes, I can confirm that you are right here. And even if Butterfly dies here, it is possible that Samuel won't abandon this mission, as it is unlikely that he would learn about his bosses demise in time.
God it's complicated
If you think that it's complicated now, wait until you read the next part. Some things are going to be far more complicated after it, some are going to be less complicated, but nothing will be like before. And nobody is going to see it coming >:D
[Try to convince Harpy to spare Butterfly] Not killing him. Don't be a fool.
This entire part reminded me of Carver's demise. And of the … moreCrooked Man. Well, Butterfly as a whole reminds me of the Crooked Man.
Butterfly got fucked up. God why did Jaron not just negotiate. I kind of expected a better effort from Butterfly's men.
Gather twenty good men and return here.
Did you think I wouldn't see this?
You know what I just realized? Let's examine
“The hell we're going to do!”, Harpy growled. “Get out of my way, Jaron. He has to die!” Butterfly slightly shook his head. “Proves my point. Stop her from killing me and we can end this war”, he explained. “I only need one more thing in this city, something that is not concerning you or the Burned Man. At this moment, Samuel is getting it for me and when he has it, I am willing to retreat. I will take all of my men with me”
This is from Lucas' last part:
“Yeah… [view original content]
[Try to convince Harpy to spare Butterfly] So I missed the last parts. Wow what a part, possibly one of the best parts I have read. I'm very hyped for the next Lucas part, Samuel might actually put on a fight for the first time, which im excited to read about.
He was cut off by the sound of the warehouses large door getting opened. Bright sunlight illuminated the building and Butterfly staggered ba… moreckwards in surprise. His men hissed, almost like animals as they raised their hands, trying to shield their eyes from the sudden sunlight. Nearly a dozen men stood in the open door, armed to the teeth. Jaron recognized none of them, until a familiar face appeared in the crowd.
“Good day, you fucking insect”, Martin said joyfully and a wide grin appeared on Jaron's face as he looked at Harpy. She had her eyes wide open in shock, in relief, her mouth opening and closing. Tears were still flowing down her face, but her mouth formed a manic grin as she was sinking to the ground. She was still holding on to her sword with her right hand, but her left found Jaron's arm and rested on it. The look she gave him meant the world to him. Butterfly on the other hand seemed to be surprisingly collected for a man wh… [view original content]
He was cut off by the sound of the warehouses large door getting opened. Bright sunlight illuminated the building and Butterfly staggered ba… moreckwards in surprise. His men hissed, almost like animals as they raised their hands, trying to shield their eyes from the sudden sunlight. Nearly a dozen men stood in the open door, armed to the teeth. Jaron recognized none of them, until a familiar face appeared in the crowd.
“Good day, you fucking insect”, Martin said joyfully and a wide grin appeared on Jaron's face as he looked at Harpy. She had her eyes wide open in shock, in relief, her mouth opening and closing. Tears were still flowing down her face, but her mouth formed a manic grin as she was sinking to the ground. She was still holding on to her sword with her right hand, but her left found Jaron's arm and rested on it. The look she gave him meant the world to him. Butterfly on the other hand seemed to be surprisingly collected for a man wh… [view original content]
As much as I want to kill Butterfly, there will be way too many consequences that will have to be faced if we do kill him. I think it's best to just be safe and spare him.
He was cut off by the sound of the warehouses large door getting opened. Bright sunlight illuminated the building and Butterfly staggered ba… moreckwards in surprise. His men hissed, almost like animals as they raised their hands, trying to shield their eyes from the sudden sunlight. Nearly a dozen men stood in the open door, armed to the teeth. Jaron recognized none of them, until a familiar face appeared in the crowd.
“Good day, you fucking insect”, Martin said joyfully and a wide grin appeared on Jaron's face as he looked at Harpy. She had her eyes wide open in shock, in relief, her mouth opening and closing. Tears were still flowing down her face, but her mouth formed a manic grin as she was sinking to the ground. She was still holding on to her sword with her right hand, but her left found Jaron's arm and rested on it. The look she gave him meant the world to him. Butterfly on the other hand seemed to be surprisingly collected for a man wh… [view original content]
He was cut off by the sound of the warehouses large door getting opened. Bright sunlight illuminated the building and Butterfly staggered ba… moreckwards in surprise. His men hissed, almost like animals as they raised their hands, trying to shield their eyes from the sudden sunlight. Nearly a dozen men stood in the open door, armed to the teeth. Jaron recognized none of them, until a familiar face appeared in the crowd.
“Good day, you fucking insect”, Martin said joyfully and a wide grin appeared on Jaron's face as he looked at Harpy. She had her eyes wide open in shock, in relief, her mouth opening and closing. Tears were still flowing down her face, but her mouth formed a manic grin as she was sinking to the ground. She was still holding on to her sword with her right hand, but her left found Jaron's arm and rested on it. The look she gave him meant the world to him. Butterfly on the other hand seemed to be surprisingly collected for a man wh… [view original content]
[Try to convince Harpy to spare Butterfly] I never pick the kill option if theres an alternative NO MURDER!! Besides Harpy/the Burned man will be more powerful and just as bad as Butterfly if not worse if Jaron lets this happen. Not very big on bringing him to the Burned man though I still don't trust him. I don't believe Butterfly will end the war but I'm still not okay with killing him. I'm a bit worried about how Samantha will react to this choice.
Comments
Hey guys, I'm starting a fan fiction based on the hunger games. I urge you to join, because I can't start till all the spots are filled.
https://www.telltalegames.com/community/discussion/comment/2043950#Comment_2043950
The Voting is closed!
Richard will support Urid's plan
As you probably expect, this is a very important choice that will majorly influence the storyline of Richard and several other characters in the next chapter.
The next part will be split in two again due to the length. It will involve a longer Drent part, featuring the Storm King and Princess as well as two new characters and a shorter Garthon part which will conclude Garthon's storyline in this chapter. I am sure that I'm going to finish it later today!
Anyways, as you know I like to give shout-outs to new stories that could use a few more readers. And as you know, I have a special fondness for the Hunger Games. The newest fanfiction in the Hunger Games universe is written by @TeamKennyW00t and depicts the events of the 25th Hunger Games, also known as The First Quarter Quell. A Quarter Quell can be best described as an especially unfair edition of the Hunger Games with a dickish twist. Needless to say, I am excited for this. This is not TeamKennyW00t's first story in this forum, as he also write the successful and very well-written story Blood, set in the Walking Dead universe. As such, I can confirm that TeamKennyW00t's writing is worth every reader it can get and I am absolutely sure that this story is going to be great. Of course and as always, to make this story as good as possible, TeamKennyW00t needs a strong readership and characters to use in his story. If you are interested in an especially evil and enjoyable version of the Hunger Games, written by a highly talented writer, follow this link!
And here I was just finishing a little shout-out for your story right at this moment. Speaking about coincidence XD
Anyway, this story is surely going to be great and I hope that some people from here will decide to join.
Hopefully it results in their deaths.
Drent
“You're wrong”, Drent answered and Garen narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean? You're honestly trying to tell me it wasn't Durrandon's fault?”, the mercenary answered, letting out a sigh. Drent gave him a nod. “Well, perhaps he overreacted, but the ambassador had to know better. Argilac Durrandon is pretty much a force of nature when it comes to his daughter. When a ship runs aground because it hit a reef, you don't blame the reef, right? You blame the helmsman”, he answered.
“I don't think you can apply that metaphora to that case”, Garen snarled. “Drentie, that guy lost his hands just because he delivered a message. Sure, he should have know better, but so should Argilac. Insulting the Storm Princess in the presence of her father is a suicidal move, everyone knows it and I agree with you. But is insulting a man who rides a literal dragon any wiser?”
“What do you expect me to say, Garen?”, Drent asked impatiently. “You expect me to question my king? Argilac has always been a good king to his people, a strong leader. I won't question him, because it's not my place to question him”
“Good little soldier...”, Garen mumbled. “You've heard about that mission he wants to send us?” Drent gave him a nod. “You, me, Montclair”, he answered and Garen chuckled. “You forgot about Lady Tariel, Ser Emphryus and about fifty other men”
“Fifty!”, Drent exclaimed. “What does he need fifty men for?” Garen shrugged. “Tariel has dropped a few hints”, he explained and Drent raised an eyebrow. “The lady talks to you?”, he asked in surprise and Garen shook his head. “Briefly. Anyway, it seems our king has inherited”, he answered.
“And what has he inherited?”, Drent asked, slightly annoyed that he had to worm this information out of Garen. The mercenary shrugged again. “Didn't understand the details. Some small coastal village in the Reach as far as I know. He'll explain, hopefully”
They entered the Great Hall and saw that it had emptied considerably. Many soldiers had finished their meal and were back on duty, only some especially nosy lords and their entourages were still hanging around in the hopes of seeing something interesting. The ambassador was still unconscious, but Maester Raymond, himself a nearly ancient man who had already served under Argilac's father, was tending to his wounds, while a servant was assisting him. Drent was no Maester, but the amount of blood the ambassador lost made a survival unlikely. Perhaps a clean death would have been more merciful.
Argilac Durrandon was sitting on his throne with a slight slouch, his left hand holding a massive mug filled to the brink with the strong and bitter Norvoshi beverage he preferred. Considering the spreading pool of blood around the ambassador, the princess had moved her plate again, now sitting at the far end of the table, while Argilac didn't seem to mind that drops of blood were staining his clothes. Argella's triumphant smile had vanished, instead she had an aloof and regal facial expression on her face. As she saw Drent and Garen entering the hall, she shortly looked up, but avoided to look either of them in the eye.
Behind the king, Drent saw Jax Montclair and Emphryus Dresfel. The Sergeant was the first to spot him, slightly raising his hand to command him to come closer. He walked up to the king and whispered something in his ear. Argilac gave him a short nod and put his mug down, his dark blue eyes finding Drent. “Drent and Garen, right?”, he growled. “Come closer, we got to talk”
He raised from his chair and with a single look he ordered Argella to do the same. “Lady Tariel and Ser Baron are awaiting us in the war room”, the king growled as Drent and Garen stood next to him. He put a massive hand on Drent's shoulder. “You brought these pigs to their pens, right?”, he asked and Drent gave him a nod. A fatherly smile flashed over Argilac's face. “Good man”, he complimented him.
“Raymond”, he shouted at his Maester. The old Maester, who was already half deaf turned around and gave him a wrinkled smile. “Yes, your grace?”, he asked. “You're going to patch him up, right? Is he going to be okay?”
“Well, not exactly okay, your grace. He suffers from a lack of hands”, the Maester said and the mouths of Argilac and his daughter formed a grin in unison. “But yes, he will live, if the Valyrian's follow my instructions as soon as they leave the castle. A wound like this has killed stronger men before, but I've seen weaker men surviving it”
“Do your best, old friend”, Argilac ordered him. “A dead ambassador makes less of an impression to the Dragonlord” Raymond gave him a short nod and turned around again, to continue his work. The Storm King in turn continued his way out of the hall, Argella at his side, while Drent, Garen, Montclair and Dresfel followed him.
The small group passed the large door at the end of the hall, walking up the large stair that lead to the inner rooms of Storm's End. Somewhere there laid the Storm King's famous war room, where he had planned every military action he took during the last thirty years, from the ill-fated invasion of the Reach, to the still ongoing pacification of the Dornish Marches. Usually, this room was reserved for Argilac and his knights, but of course there were tales about it among the soldiers. Rumours that it was stuffed with the skulls of Argilac's foes, filled with maps that detailed Argilac's plans for all of Westeros. Therefore, Drent was negatively surprised as the room turned out to be disappointingly ordinary. A large, but simple wooden table, several comfortable looking chairs on it's left and right, a large, but plain-looking throne at the top end, a map of the Stormlands and it's surroundings, with small wooden figurines of stylized stags, flowers, snakes and krakens, depicting the armies of the Stormlands, Reach, Dorne and the Iron Islands. A small, wooden dragon stood close to the coast of Blackwater Bay, indicating the location of Dragonstone.
The room was large enough to hold a hundred people, but right now only two were present, sitting at opposite sites of the table, both of them directly next to Argilac's throne. To the right sat Ser Baron Schodek, a childhood friend of the Storm King, almost as tall as his king, with a thick grey beard and a strongly receding hairline. His dark brown eyes were mustering the King and his group and he was avoiding to look at the second person in the room. On the other side of the table sat Lady Tariel, Argilac's chief advisor for everything related to the Reach. She was one of the few women at court who were able to stand their own when compared to the looks of the Storm Princess. Her hair was dark brown, only slightly lighter than Argella's, her skin was similarly pale, but her green eyes strongly contrasted the princess' blue and worked well with her light green dress. She wasn't a real lady and there was a persistent rumour that she had been sleeping her way up to her current position, but her brilliance when it came to political schemes was unquestionable. Both of them had a fierce and famous rivalry with each other, but today they both gave their king dark looks full of worry.
“Your grace!”, Tariel greeted them, standing up and walking towards him. “Tariel!”, Argilac exclaimed, hugging her and enjoying the kiss on the cheek she gave him. “Always a pleasure to see you”, he said with a grin. Drent noticed that Tariel looked at Garen for a moment, albeit he doubted that anyone else noticed.
“And Princess Argella!”, Tariel exclaimed with joy. Drent knew there was no love between the two women, but both hid their sharp insults under soft silken words. “My dear it's wonderful to see you. And your dress is... extraordinary. The neckline is fascinating, a real eyecatcher”
Argella slightly frowned, but remained composed at Tariel's remark. “Thank you, dear. Here I am, not able to give you a similar compliment. But I admire your bravery. Green certainly suits you”, she chirped and Ser Baron let out a sigh.
“Alright, alright, little cats, I'm glad you enjoy the sight of each other. We certainly do. But let's not waste time with smalltalk, we have a lot to discuss, shall we?”, he growled. Being Argilac's most trusted friend had it's benefits and Ser Baron was allowed to say things that would have provoked a reaction from the king if they would come from anyone else. The old knight pointed at the chair next to him, opposite of Tariel. “Please, my princess, allow me the honour”, he said. Argella didn't answer at first, but started to walk around the table, not up to Ser Baron, but up to Tariel's chair. She gave Tariel a short smirk, before sitting down on at her spot. “Thank you, Ser Baron, but I think here is a good chair for me. A princess should sit close to her father's side after all”
Tariel ignored this, but was now forced to sit next to either Ser Baron or Princess Argella. She chose the princess and sat down next to her, a bright smile on her face. Garen let out a sigh and positioned himself next to her before Jax or Ser Emphyrus were able to choose a seat. The knight chose to sat down next to Ser Baron, the two sharing a short, brotherly handshake. Drent and Jax looked at each other, shrugged and positioned themselves at opposite sides of the table, Drent sitting next to Ser Emphryus, while Jax picked the seat next to Garen. In the meantime, Argilac Durrandon was slowly walking around the table, looking at the map as if he was lost in thoughts.
“The Marches...”, he mumbled, causing Baron to look up. “Your grace?”, the knight asked. “The figurine at the marches stands wrong. It should be closer to Kingsgrave”, Argilac answered and looked at Baron. “Seven Hells, am I the only one who actually read Brownwell's last letter? They left the valley near Wyl to the west five days ago and are now meeting up with that orange guy near the Prince's Pass and the valley of Kingsgrave”
He pointed at the small wooden stag in the dornish marches, symbolizing the troops stationed there. “Does that look like five day marches to the west from Wyl?”, Argilac growled, pushing the figurine slightly closer towards the dornish border and to the castle of Kingsgrave. Baron frowned at the kings words, but gave him an apologetic smile. “Forgive me, your grace. I haven't found the time to read Sergeant Brownwell's latest letter yet”
Argilac slightly chuckled as he heard this. “That's what you got me for, old friend”, he grinned. “By the way, what do we know about that orange guy Brownwell keeps mentioning?” Baron seemed to think about his kings question for a moment and it was Tariel who answered instead. “Yoreen Flowers, known as Orange Yoreen. Bastard son of Ser Maron Mullendore of Oldtown”, she intoned. “Exceptional military career. Surpassed his father in rank ten years ago. Most successful leader the Reachmen had in the dornish marches for centuries. Ironically known as 'Bad Lieutenant'"
“Why's that?”, the king asked with a grin. “He stopped his men from raping dornish women. They nearly mutinied against him after this”, Baron answered and Argilac's grin vanished. “I still don't see a bad lieutenant there”, he growled with a dangerously low voice. “Which brings me to the question... What's with Brownwell?”
“What do you mean, your grace?”, Baron asked. “Sergeant Brownwell is fine, a capable man to lead our...” Argilac interrupted him with a quick handwave. “Has he already outlawed raping in his regiment? The thought just occured to me, but I think it's an important question”, the king growled impatiently and for a moment Drent saw that vicious look in his eyes again. Baron shook his head. “Not that I know”, he answered.
“Well, then remember to write him a letter after our meeting. No more raping. My men are soldiers, not pigs. I expect them to behave. If they want a cunt they shall pay for a whore. I know I pay them good enough”, Argilac ordered him. “Tell him, first time offenders loose a hand, second time offenders feel the kiss of a gelding knife” His hard stare directly met Baron's and the old knight visibly shivered as he looked his old friend in the eyes. “And tell him that I'm impressed if he finds any third-time offenders”, he added.
“A bold move, your grace”, Tariel complimented him. “But the men won't like it”, Baron added quickly. Argilac shrugged. “Wonder if they dare to call me 'Bad King' for telling them where they can't put their dirty cocks”, he said, causing a short chuckle from Emphryus and Baron. The kings gaze fell on Garen and his grin got wider. “Mercenary, you look like you want to say something!”, he snarled.
Garen shook his head. “Not exactly, your grace. I am just wondering why you called me here. And Golton and Montclair as well. Surely you haven't send us here to discuss your new laws for the Dornish Marches, right?”, he answered. Argilac gave him a short nod. “Indeed not, mercenary. I've called you, all of you, here today to talk about a little mission you will do for me”, the Storm King answered.
He looked at Montclair. “Jax, my friend. You fought for me at Ashford, Bitterbridge and Blackhaven. Even Emphryus is impressed by your work. He trusts you and so do I”, he explained and Drent saw the proud look in the sergeants eyes. The king looked at Garen next. “And you, mercenary... I don't like men who only fight for gold, but Baron vowed for you. Someone who is good enough for my oldest friend is good enough for me as well”, he said and Garen gave him a nod. “Whatever it is, your grace, I won't disappoint you”, the mercenary promised.
Lastly, the Storm King looked at Drent. “And lastly, Drent Golton”, he said, a smile forming under his thick beard. “Your involvement in this mission comes from a direct recommendation from Jax here. He called you his best man and that's good enough for me” His gaze fell on Argella. “And for my daughter of course”
“Your grace?”, Montclair asked curiously. Argilac ignored his remark and looked at Tariel instead. “Please, explain to our guests what this meeting is about” The woman gave him a nod and looked from Montclair to Drent, while ignoring Garen. “King Argilac has inherited”, she proclaimed, pulling a small sheet of paper from her pocket. “A friend of mine sent me this message with a detailed copy of House Raylan's family tree”
She unfolded the paper in front of Drent and Montclair, revealing a crudely drawn family tree and pointed at one of the names near the bottom of the sheet. “Lord Robert Raylan, last of his line. Died two weeks ago after a brief and severe illness. No children. No direct heir”, Tariel explained and pointed at some of the other names. “As you can see, a common whore has a purer bloodline than Robert Raylan”, she added and Argella gave her a sly smirk. “I trust your expertise, my dear”, the princess chirped.
Tariel visibly suppressed a sigh before she continued. “This family tree involves a surprisingly large amount of smallfolk. They also mainly married into the noble House Bennick, which died out a hundred years ago according to my source. Lucifer Fossoway had a strong claim through his marriage to Lord Raylan's late cousin Olenna, at least until Dickon Morrigen slew him at Bitterbridge. Tytos Beesbury had an even stronger claim through his marriage to Lord Raylan's aunt, until a bowel inflammation slew him at his privy twenty years ago”
“I bet the bowel inflammation still had to fight harder than Morrigen to get it's kill”, Emphryus mumbled, causing Garen and Baron to chuckle. Tariel gave him an irritated frown before she continued to explain the family tree. “Lord Hobert of Mander's Mouth has a very weak claim and he is still alive. However, there is an even stronger claim thanks to some ancient Lord Raylan about four hundred years ago”, she explained, pointing at a name at the top of the family tree. “Lady Larra Raylan, born Larra Durrandon, related in a direct line to Robert Raylan. Younger sister of King Argilac's direct relative, King Loren Durrandon. She chose to marry into House Raylan out of love, nearly provoking a war between Reach and Stormlands”
“And in the end she gave me a cozy little village at the eastern coast of the Reach”, Argilac concluded Tariel's explanation. “According to her friend, there is no doubt that my claim is stronger than Lord Hobert's. Lord of Raylansfair might not be the most illustrious of titles, but it's mine by right and I intend to claim it”, he growled.
“According to her friend in Raylansfair, the current acting lord is going to be a problem, but nothing I couldn't solve. Lady Tariel is travelling there, together with fifty good men, including you. Her mission will be to claim Raylansfair in my name”, he continued and exchanged a smirk with his daughter.
“With all due respect, but does Lady Tariel hold enough power to claim the city?”, Montclair asked. “She's not a noblewoman. In fact she is...” He stopped himself before saying the word 'bastard', but Tariel narrowed her eyes regardless.
“Of course, she does not hold enough power to do this”, Argella interjected with glee. “That's why she won't travel alone” It took Drent a moment to realize what the princess just implied. “You will be accompanying us, my princess?”, he asked in surprise. She flashed him a bright, deceivingly innocent smile and fluttered her eyelashes. “If I may”, she chirped.
“You want to send your daughter with us, your grace?”, Garen asked and Argilac gave him a nod. “She will claim Raylansfair in my name. She's my blood, my heiress. One day she has to learn how to lead a negotiation. With Lady Tariel's assist she should make it”
“Fifty men to guard the princess and Lady Tariel? That's awfully few, your grace”, Montclair interjected doubtfully and Argella gave him a nod. “You bring a solid point, Sergeant Montclair”, she answered. “But more men could lead to trouble with the Reach. Fifty have to suffice. It's not like we attempt to talk to a monster like Harren Hoare”
“It's still more men than the whole garrison of Raylansfair even has”, Tariel tried to convince a clearly sceptical Montclair. The sergeant let out a sigh. “It's risky”, he pointed out and Argilac gave him a nod. “It is”, he answered. “But Argella insisted and what kind of father would I be to deny my daughter this wish? What kind of king would I be to deny my heiress this opportunity?”
“If anything goes wrong, I expect from you to guard the princess with your lives”, Ser Baron ordered them and Emphryus, Montclair and Drent immediately gave him a nod. “Yes, Ser!”, they exclaimed at once. Garen took a moment longer, but he still did the same. “Yes, Ser”, he mumbled and Baron gave him a kind smile. “Good boy”, he complimented him. “I know you won't cause me any shame”
“You still don't look pleased, Sergeant Montclair”, Argella noticed and gave him a reassuring smile. “Is there anything the matter?” Montclair gave her a slow nod. “It's risky, my princess. If anything goes wrong and you get hurt...”, he said and paused as Argella shook her head. “Don't worry about it, Sergeant. See the positive aspects. You'll travel to another kingdom, to meet new and fascinating people, to serve your king and to protect your princess”, she answered “And to make it even better, you'll get the extraordinary pleasure of enjoying my company along the way”
No Choices for this part
Garthon
He gave Jon a short nod and the Harper clapped his hands. “Okay, here's the plan. Jared, start to pick the lock. Dacey, get your bow ready. If we meet any resistance, aim for the knees. Don't want to kill anyone if it's preventable”, he ordered his men. Both gave him a nod and Jared pulled a lock pick out of his pocket, starting to work on the door.
“What's that smugglers name again?”, Jon asked. “Mosso”, George answered quickly. “I hope we'll meet him there. Would be quite embarrassing to break into the wrong house”, Garthon remarked and George narrowed his eyes. “Do you imply I made a mistake?”, he asked. “Have you?”, Garthon asked dryly, causing Jon to chuckled. “Please, ladies. Bad timing now. Jared, how's the lock?”, he asked.
Jared looked over his shoulder, a grin on his face. “Give me a minute and we're in”, he answered to Garthon's pleasure. “Dacey, you're ready?”, the Harper asked. She gave him a nod without looking at him. “Always”, she hissed.
As promised, a few moments later the door opened a tiny bit and Jared raised his fist in triumph. Jon gave him a silent nod and pushed the door open a bit further, just allowing Dacey to aim at anyone who might stand behind it. Garthon caught a look at the Ibbeneese bouncer, who had to look up to them, his massive arms folded, his hairy face showing displeasure.
“I said fuck off”, he snarled dryly. “And you decided to break into the building” His heavy accent made it hard for Garthon to understand him, but it appeared as if Jon had no problem with it. “We want to speak to Mosso”, the Harper repeated and the bouncer revealed an ugly grin. “Is there any part of 'Fuck Off' you haven't understood?”, he asked.
“Perhaps the part where I have an arrow aimed at your crotch”, Dacey hissed. “Now bring us to Mosso, or else something bad happens” The Ibbenese let out a sigh. “You're not a subtle lot, that right?” Still, he turned around, commanding the group to follow him with a handwave.
Jon entered the building first, Dacey walked after him. She had lowered her bow, but still held the arrow in a firm grip. Garthon followed, holding a hand on the hilt of his sword, while George and Jared came in last.
“Mosso is a busy man. Mosso might not want to talk to you”, the bouncer said. “We let Mosso decide”, Garthon answered. “We have an appointment with him, so the least we can expect is talking to him” The bouncer gave him a short nod. “True”, he answered. “I'll bring you to Mosso's workroom. Keep your hands where I can see them”
“You're not really in a position to make threats”, Dacey hissed and the bouncer rolled his eyes. “And you, girl, are in a position where you want something from Mosso, so you should stay quiet and only speak when you're asked to”, he growled, leading them through an empty hallway. It was surprisingly tidy for a building in this part of Maidenpool, albeit only scarcely furnished. The wooden walls and the floor started to get mouldy, but all in all he had to admit that Mosso's hideout was quite cosy.
They entered a large storage room, filled with crates of different sizes, shelves full of books, vials full with strange liquids, armour stands, exotic weapons. And a desk. Behind it sat a tall and thin man with a long face and dull grey eyes. His back was slightly crooked and he was writing something onto a sheet of paper as the group entered. He looked up, sheer displeasure on his face, albeit his mouth formed a somewhat polite smile.
“Who have you brought me here?”, he asked and raised from his chair, giving them a stilted bow. “Greetings, guests. How can I help you?” Garthon wanted to answer, but Jon cut him off. “We'd like to talk to Mosso”, he answered. “Not to you”
Both, Garthon and the tall man stared at him in surprise as Jon turned to the smuggler instead. “Mosso is an Ibbeneese name. You're posing as your own bouncer?”, he asked. The man's broad face lit up to reveal an ugly smile full of crooked teeth. “I like to find out whom I have to deal with before revealing myself”, he answered without the hint of an accent. He reached out with his massive arm and gave Jon a strong handshake. “Mosso Nath, at your service”
He pointed at the tall man. “This is my secretary, Beloro Mararis”, he introduced him. “Very good at posing as me. Not so good at keeping track of the inventory” The secretary gave him a frown and slightly shook his head. “Can I get you anything, Mosso?”, he asked. The smuggler gave him a nod. “A glass of wine”, he ordered him and walked towards the desk.
“You're not offering anything to us?”, Garthon asked with a slight smile. Mosso shook his head. “I'm an honest businessman, at least towards my clients. A popular saying in Ib can be translated as 'Never trade with a man who offers you alcohol' and I follow this saying. A man who feels the need to make you drunk before trading with you has something to hide. The better the beverage, the more terrible his secret”, he explained. “Once traded with a smuggler from the Summer Isles who offered me Arbor Gold. I had to break three of his fingers until he confessed that he attempted to double cross me. That said, I can offer you a cup of water if you're thirsty”
“I pass”, Garthon answered. “We're here to discuss a trade. My friend George here can explain the details” With these words he pushed George forwards. The boy seemed to be reluctant to speak to the stocky Ibbenese, but Garthon patted him on the back in an attempt to reassure him. “My name is George Rivers. My master has depicted the details of our trade in his correspondence with you, if I'm not mistaken”
Mosso gave him a short nod. “Indeed he has”, he answered and raised from his chair. With quick steps he walked towards one of the shelves, holding several crossbows. “You want two of these, George Rivers”, he explained, raising a laughably tiny crossbow. “Foldable, to a certain degree. Perfectly able to be hid under a cloak. Play your cards right it and it's impossible to spot”
He pointed it at a near crate, shooting a bolt into it. The bolt hit the crate with a loud thud and went in surprisingly deep, silencing any thought of Garthon to poke fun at the tiny weapon. “And if you can get close enough, it'll go through chainmail and even light steel armour just as a big crossbow would”, Mosso grinned. “Perfect for close-range assasination, but useless for anything beyond ten feet”
He narrowed his eyes as he looked from George to Jon. He held his stare on Dacey for a while longer. “You don't look like professional killers”, he remarked. “What do you want with these?”
“None of your business”, George answered coldly. “We take the crossbow, but what’s with the poison?” Mosso's smile vanished as he walked towards another shelf, holding plenty of vials full with different liquids. “Yes, the venom”, he said slowly. “There has been a problem”
“What are you talking about?”, Jon growled and Mosso raised his hands as his secretary entered the room again. “Nothing too bad. But I have few problems with the delivery. The Manticor venom I trade with has perfect quality. Made in Mantarys, shipped from Volantis to Lys without even seeing the light of the day. From there it's shipped to a small cave at Crackclaw Point, near the Dyre Den. The lord of the Dyre Den then organizes further transport to Maidenpool for a nice bribe without arousing any suspicion”, the smuggler explained and gave him an apologizing smile. “And a week ago a raven from the Dyre Den arrived. Lord Brune is dead and my venom can't be transported any further until the new Lord Brune makes a new agreement with me”
With a slight smile he raised a small vial, containing light green liquid. “But I can make you another offer. It's a bit cheaper and you'll get something just as deadly. And you can choose”, he said and handed Garthon the first vial. “Careful, don't break it. You get anything on your fingers and lick on them and you're dead. That one is Basilisk venom. Not as potent as Manticor venom, but it still kills”
The smuggler pulled out a second vial, containing deep purple liquid. He grinned slightly as he handed it to Garthon. “And this one is the Strangler. My personal favourite, though you need to be a real whoreson to use it. It's a perfidious poison, that one. Makes the victim unable to breath. Decidedly more painful than the Basilisk venom”
Garthon held both vials in his hands, looking at George. “Any preferences?”, he asked and George shook his head. “Honestly, I was glad I didn't have to choose”, the boy answered. “I hate using poison, but I don't have a saying in this. I leave this up to you”
With these words he looked at Jon. “Though perhaps our Harper can give you a tip which one is better”, he said and Jon gave him a nod. “Both of them are deadly, that should be the most important thing”, Jon explained. “Though Mosso is right. The Strangler is the more painful one, a bit slower. Depends on whether or not you want to give your target a painful death. He won't survive either of them. It's up to you to decide”
[Choose the Strangler] [Choose Basilisk Venom]
[Choose the Strangler] Are you kidding me? Slower, more painful, inevitable death any day of the week
Well this is a little awkward.
I found some amusement about your lines about 'fifty good men'. Ramsay did good with 20.
Only two weeks since Lord Raylan died? Not good... I hope these guys return to Raylansfair before Lucas & Leonard, because I don't want Leonard to die.
[Choose the Strangler] well we know how this one works
[Choose Basilisk Venom] let's just get the job done no sense in dragging it out for more pain.
Is Drent and his team planning on attacking Raylansfair?
[Choose the Strangler]
[Choose the Strangler]
[Choose Basilisk Venom]
(Choose Basilisk Venom)
Well, 'negotiation' seems to be something stressed on, but I have a feeling it's obviously going to break down and turn to crap.
No, attacking the city with fifty men would be far too audacious, even for the Storm King. According to his information he has the strongest claim on Raylansfair and he hopes to use this and the presence of his daughter to overcome any difficulties that might arise out of the fact that he is a foreign king who used to wage a very bloody war against the Reach. If he would plan an attack, he would have sent a thousand times as many men and certainly not his daughter. However, Raylansfair would provide him with a tactically extremely useful position in the eastern Reach, so being in a better position for a possible war might be one of his motivations in claiming the city.
i'll go with Choose the Strangler
[Choose the Strangler]
[Choose the Strangler]
[Choose Basilisk Venom]
Why are you all replying to me?
[Strangler] should be good.
[Choose Basilisk Venom] I have a feeling that some how this poison is going to end up killing one of our fellow patriots. Either a pro Hoare person discovers it and gives it to the king, who then applies it to one of the rebels, or some horrible horrible accident occurs and one of them are poisoned.
Can't we choice both ? [Choose the Strangler]
The Voting is closed!
Garthon will choose to buy the Strangler
Well, this choice probably won't make that much of a difference, given that he had to choose between a deadly poison and a slower deadly poison. Emphasis on 'probably' though, as you can never know what might happen.
The next part is half written and should be finished later today. It's going to be a Jaron part and... ah, well, you better read for yourselves. Behold the consequences of your actions!
Hopefully the stalling gets Leonard time to escape. I wish Jaron had just joined Butterfly. Now crap is going to happen and it's all because of this fucking problem.
This should be good
Jaron
Jaron couldn't lower his sword. He couldn't do this to Harpy and he couldn't trust Butterfly. No, he couldn't give up now. But simply attacking him would be suicide. His only chance would be to continue their talk. His only chance would be to give Martin more time.
“So what, bastard?”, Butterfly growled. “I'm waiting. Lower your sword” Jaron ignored this remark and forced himself to look Butterfly in the eye. The crimelord had a cruel smirk on his face and his stare was one of the worst things Jaron ever saw. “What are you going to do to her?”, Jaron asked in an attempt to get more time.
Butterfly raised an eyebrow. “You want to hear the details?”, he asked in surprise. “That is unexpected. Are you sure you want to burden yourself with this knowledge? I mean, that must be hard enough for you as it is”
“Jaron?”, Harpy whispered behind him and the scared sound in her voice nearly broke his heart. But he had to continue, for her sake, for his sake. “Every detail. You're right it's hard for me, but if I'm going to sell her out, I want to know exactly what you're going to do to her”, he answered and Harpy's hand on his shoulder clenched. “Jaron?”, she asked again, slightly louder. He ignored her.
“Oh, I'll mostly improvise. I'm obviously going to remove a few parts. Some of them for the better, like that annoying tongue. It's going to be sad for her eyes, but I'm sure all will be well in the end”, Butterfly answered with a sickening laugh. “For me at least. For her? Probably not so much. We're making an example of her, but we're not going to kill her. I'm going to have fun with her, Tom is going to have fun with her, Moggy is going to have fun with her, but we're not going to kill her. That honour will go to the Burned Man, when we send what's left of her back to him”
“Kill him, please”, Harpy whispered. “Kill him, I can't stand another word from him!” Her voice raised in anger and obvious panic, while Butterfly's grin widened. “Not so calm now, right?”, he snarled. “You made a grievous mistake, you little cunt” He looked at Jaron again and his grin vanished. “Never trust a bastard. They are rotten beasts, with treachery in their blood”, he whispered and a patronizing smile appeared on his face.
“But you're not that bad of course, Ser Bastard!”, he shouted and attempted to take a step towards Jaron. He stopped as the latter's blade moved towards his throat. For a moment, Butterfly's eyes widened, but there was no fear in them. Just something that had to be madness. Jaron hoped it would be madness, for he couldn't bare the thought of a sane man doing all of this. “Or perhaps I was wrong”, the crimelord whispered. “Perhaps you want to die alongside her. Together in dead, the stuff that tragedies are made of”
He slowly turned around and it would have been easy for Jaron to end it. Just a single step and he would have been able to thrust his blade into Butterfly's back. But he remained frozen, looking towards the edge of the illuminated circle, trying to count how many men they were up against. There was Butterfly and somewhere behind him the Tom, his white mask barely visible. The massive body of the Moggy stood silently between them and the door. And occasionally there was movement. He heard it more than he saw it, but there had to be around a dozen men with them in this warehouse. And Robb, who's allegiance was questionable at best.
“She infected your mind already, am I right?”, Butterfly asked. “The sickness inside of her, inside of this city, it already affected you enough to give you an opinion on me without even meeting me” Jaron clenched the fist of his wounded arm as he heard this, sending a light shiver of pain through his lower arm. “Perhaps it had something to do with your men trying to kill me!”, he growled.
Butterfly turned around again, his eyes clearly thirsty of blood. “They would still like to do it. Many of them knew the men who died on that day and they would love to make you pay. The only thing that stops them is me and my courtesy”, he snarled. “So, next time I give you an order you better follow it or I'll stop being polite. And now lower your sword!”
Jaron's sword remained where it was, raised and pointed at the crimelord. Butterfly closed his eyes. “Alright then...”, he mumbled. “Seems like we skip the negotiations” He raised his hand, but before he could lower it again, the sound of a door getting opened interrupted him. For a short moment, Jaron's heart beat wildly as he hoped that Martin would enter the warehouse. But the small ray of sunlight that fell into the building illuminated not only the dozen men who surrounded him and Harpy, but also a man he had never seen before.
“Butterfly!”, the newcomer shouted. “Martin Wilshere has been sighted at the docks! He has almost a dozen men with him and he's heading towards our position” Butterfly narrowed his eyes and looked back at Jaron, who couldn't resist to smirk triumphantly. “Oh, you little bastard”, the crimelord whispered. “You're going to regret that” He looked towards his men. “Tom!”, he shouted and the man with the white cat mask took a step towards him. “Yes, Butterfly?”, he asked in a monotone voice.
“Take the Moggy and retreat to the headquarters. Gather twenty good men and return here. You have one hour”, Butterfly ordered him and even through the mask and the darkness, Jaron could see the displeased facial expression of the Tom. “What?”, he growled. “You're sending me away?”
“You can spill their blood another time, but for now I need you to gather reinforcements and I need your best man to protect you”, Butterfly explained and the Tom gave him a reluctant nod. “If this is the Butterfly's wish”, he mumbled and Butterfly gave him a short, pleased nod. “It is”, the crimelord answered and the Tom let out a sigh. “Moggy!”, he snarled and the giant moved closer like a loyal dog. “We're leaving. You follow me and if anyone tries to stop us you kill them, do you understand?”
The Moggy gave him a slow nod and let out a deep growl. His red eyes moved towards Jaron and the aggressiveness in them caused the knight to shiver. He was glad that this man wouldn't be among his enemies today. The Tom looked at Butterfly, slightly shaking his head. For a moment it looked like he was about to say something, but instead he just turned around and left the building through the backdoor. The Moggy followed close behind, his massive body having trouble in fitting through the door.
“And now you, Bastard...”, Butterfly whispered. “Ready to face the consequences of your actions?” And that was the moment in which Jaron realized that he wouldn't come any further with talking. He darted forwards, trying to hit Butterfly's unguarded chest with his sword. The crimelord took a quick step backwards, while moving his hand towards the hilt hanging on his belt, swiftly drawing a short, single-edged sword and parrying the strike. “All our cards are on the table, Ser Bastard”, Butterfly shouted with a mocking voice while quickly striking at Jaron's wounded arm. The knight barely managed to parry and being limited to using only one arm handicapped him tremendously. “Your pathetic attempt at killing me is over. Your friends will come too late. I offered you a chance, but you decided to die alongside your little bitch. And now... now we're going to end this!”, the crimelord exclaimed.
Out of the shadows, the sound of steel being drawn was heard. Robb looked around in fear, his hand moving to the hilt of his sword. “Robb, stay out of this and I will spare you!”, Butterfly promised and the mercenary visibly considered his offer. His hand was still on the hilt of his sword, but he took no further action. Jaron frowned at the thought that he had spared this coward from further beating yesterday. Right now, Robb would deserve every beating in the world in Jaron's eyes.
“Take them alive if possible!”, Butterfly commanded his men while he effortlessly parried another strike from Jaron. His riposte was quick, brutal and merciless, targeting Jaron's already wounded ribs. This time, Jaron didn't manage to parry the strike, instead he only managed to deflect it. It still hit him at the upper leg and the sound of steel clashing against steel was heard as Butterfly's sword failed to pierce the armour. Yet the blow was still hard enough to cause Jaron to stagger backwards.
Jaron heard the movement behind him, men closing in on him and Harpy. Before he could take a look over his shoulder, Butterfly attacked again. His blows lacked any skill, instead he held his sword almost like a cleaver, striking like a butcher, but he was strong, far stronger than Jaron would have been with both arms and he was surprisingly fast.
Still at the edge of the illuminated circle stood Robb, his right hand resting on the hilt of his sword. He looked from Butterfly to Jaron, apparently unsure what to do. And behind Jaron he heard a deep gurgle, the sound of steel falling to the ground and a surprised gasp. “Kill that bitch!”, a man behind him screamed in sudden panic before his voice turned into a gurgle and Jaron didn't even need to see what just happened. He saw the displeased expression on Butterfly's face and that was enough.
Still, as he quickly glimpsed over his shoulder he saw Harpy standing right behind him, facing a small crowd of men who slowly came closer. On the ground lay the first man who tried to attack her, his throat cut by his own blade. She was holding the sword as if she was holding a torch, as if she was trying to scare away a group of wild animals. And the way these men moved reminded Jaron of exactly that, of animals closing in on their prey.
To his right another man stepped out of the shadows, slowly moving towards him, while Butterfly took the chance to attack again. The crimelord swung his sword in a high curve, nearly cleaving Jaron's head in if he hadn't managed to raise his sword in the last moment. Still, the force of the blow was enough to send Jaron staggering to the side and to the ground. Harpy gave him a worried look as she glanced at him over her shoulder and one of her opponents took this opportunity to attack her. She barely managed to raise her sword high enough to parry the strike and the force of it still nearly disarmed her. Her opponent's blade nearly grazed her cheek, but to Jaron's relief it only cut through thin air. A second man used the moment she needed to regain her balance to brutally club her on the head with the hilt of his sword. Harpy went to the ground, three men grabbing her, while Jaron still tried to get back to his feet again. Of course, she tried to resist, but had little to offer against one of the men who started to repeatedly punch her in her face.
Butterfly and one of his men walked towards Jaron, the crimelord having a malevolent grin on his face. “The whore is down, her bastard will follow”, he growled and the man accompanying him raised his sword, ready to end Jaron's life. The knight raised his sword in a desperate attempt of parrying the strike, knowing fully well that he wasn't strong enough for this.
All of a sudden, Butterfly's expression changed, from malevolence to surprise, as the edge of a blade was thrusted through his accomplices chest. The men went to the ground, clutching at the hole in his chest and revealed Robb, standing behind him. “Get her!”, the mercenary shouted, as he turned around to face Butterfly, both men clearly boiling with anger.
“That was a mistake, Robb...”, Butterfly growled, as Jaron managed to get on his knees again. “I'm going to cut off your...”, the crimelord continued, but Robb cut him off by charging at him. “Not another word, you goddamn monster!”, the mercenary screamed at the top of his lungs and forced Butterfly to get defensive as he started to deliver a series of fierce blows at him.
In the meantime, Jaron had managed to get to his feet again, storming towards the men who were still holding Harpy down. One of them was beating her, his knuckles already stained with her blood. He wasn't even paying attention to Jaron, but the rest of the men around him were. One of them was kneeling on the ground, but quickly stood up as Jaron charged towards him.
“Should have stayed on the ground, bastard”, he sneered and attempted to attack him. He didn't even manage to land a single attack as Jaron swiftly striked at his head, his sword slicing through his throat, sending him to the ground. The next man raised his sword and tried to jump at Jaron, ignoring his own defence in the process. Jaron rammed his sword through the man's unguarded stomach area, sending him to the ground, coughing up blood and desperately trying to hold his intestines inside of him.
Finally he came into reach of the monsters who were beating up Harpy. They were crouching on the ground, two of them were holding down her arms, while the third was punching her in the face. She was still conscious and desperately tried to break free from their grip, albeit her weak attempts were clearly chanceless. The dim light inside of the warehouse made it hard for them to notice Jaron, but as soon as he got close to them, they jumped up. The men who were holding her arms quickly drew their blades, the man who was hitting her had no time to do this. Jaron knew, it would have been wiser to attack the armed men first, but right now he did not care. Harpy's blood stained his opponent's knuckles and blind rage took control over Jaron as he cleaved the man's head nearly in half.
The two men who were left standing quickly took their chance at attacking Jaron from different sides. In a single second, Jaron noticed that he had made a mistake by attacking the unarmed man first. He raised his sword, parrying the strike coming from his right, while trying to move sideways to evade the strike coming from his left. To his surprise, the man to his right failed to parry Jaron's strike and was hit in the side. Any thoughts of triumph quickly left Jaron, as he realized that he wouldn't be able to evade the second strike. He raised his wounded left arm in a desperate attempt of protecting his unarmed head...
A shockwave of pain flashed through his arm as his opponent's sword hit the plated gauntlet. It failed to break through the armour, but caused easily enough pain to send Jaron to the ground as he screamed in sheer agony. The bone in his forearm was thumping with pain and tears were flowing down his face. His opponent raised his sword again, attempting to end it. Jaron closed his eyes...
...and opened them again as he heard movement, the sound of a blade hitting the ground, a surprised groan, someone gasping for air...
Harpy had jumped up, tackling Jaron's opponent to the ground, in her hand a large dagger. She had cleanly ripped open his throat with her blade and was screaming in rage as she raised her dagger again and again, spilling the dying man's blood around. Her face was badly bruised, blood was flowing out of her nose and from her cheeks, but the look in her eyes was truly murderous. Jaron's other opponent was lying on the ground, with blood flowing out of his wounded side. He had visible problems to breath and even though Jaron was no healer, it was clear that the man's wounds were fatal. At least for a short moment, there was no one attacking them.
Jaron used this opportunity to take a look around. Several men were still present in the warehouse, slowly closing in on Jaron and Harpy. They knew they only needed to wait. The pain in Jaron's arm was bad enough to make him struggle for consciousness. And Harpy was wounded, in blind rage and clearly unable to defend herself against half a dozen men. Behind them stood Butterfly, still fighting against Robb.
The mercenary was clearly the more skilled fighter, but he was visibly boiling in anger, which caused him to put less skill in his attacks. Butterfly on the other hand was stronger and faster, his blows hitting Robb like the kick of a horse. On top of that, Jaron noticed that Robb was ignoring his own defence, relying solely on forcing Butterfly to parry his fierce strikes. And indeed, Butterfly seemed to have problems to parry the attacks. Instead, he took a quick step sideways, letting Robb's blade only hit thin air, as his own sword darted towards the mercenary, cutting through leather and chainmail and flesh. Robb let out a grunt as the blade fell from his weak hand, looking down on the sword that was plunged in his abdomen. Butterfly grabbed him at the shoulder and slowly twisted the blade, causing Robb to gurgle in pain, as a gust of blood flew out of his mouth.
“You managed to put up a good fight, bastard”, the crimelord shouted as he was pulling his sword out of Robb's body with a sickeningly squishing sound. “I could have needed someone like you in my ranks. You could have done good, you could have been a hero. Still, you chose to fight me, you stupid little prick!”
A merciless smile was seen on his face as he looked at the bloody blade. “Robb siding against me came as a surprise. In the end he was infected by the same sickness that cripples this city, the sickness that was caused by your girl and her pimp, the same sickness I see inside of you. And he paid the price for it, just as you will”, he growled as his men were slowly closing in on Jaron and Harpy. Behind him, Robb did his last breath, as his body grew limp, as his eyes stopped moving. Butterfly pointed his blade at Jaron and Harpy. She had stopped stabbing her opponent and was now standing above Jaron, as if she tried to protect him. He was able to see her face, her bloody, bruised, tear-stained, unarguably beautiful face and the expression he saw made him shiver. She was ready to fight to the last breath if needed. Butterfly noticed it too and chuckled slightly. “And now you need a girl to protect you. Pathetic. You are pathetic, you and your little slu...”
He was cut off by the sound of the warehouses large door getting opened. Bright sunlight illuminated the building and Butterfly staggered backwards in surprise. His men hissed, almost like animals as they raised their hands, trying to shield their eyes from the sudden sunlight. Nearly a dozen men stood in the open door, armed to the teeth. Jaron recognized none of them, until a familiar face appeared in the crowd.
“Good day, you fucking insect”, Martin said joyfully and a wide grin appeared on Jaron's face as he looked at Harpy. She had her eyes wide open in shock, in relief, her mouth opening and closing. Tears were still flowing down her face, but her mouth formed a manic grin as she was sinking to the ground. She was still holding on to her sword with her right hand, but her left found Jaron's arm and rested on it. The look she gave him meant the world to him. Butterfly on the other hand seemed to be surprisingly collected for a man who was suddenly outnumbered two to one. “I really hope I am interrupting something here”, Martin continued and pointed his sword at Butterfly. “We outnumber you two to one and my men have surrounded the warehouse. Give up and we can end this quickly”
In this moment, the backdoor behind Butterfly was opened with enough force to nearly rip it out of it's angles and a huge figure stepped in. For a moment, Jaron feared that it was the Moggy, that Butterfly's back-up had arrived. But then he recognized the huge frame of Bakr al-Astapori, his partner Abbas following closely. Every ounce of the usual friendliness had vanished from Bakr's face as he looked at Butterfly, holding a large bearded axe in his massive hands. Abbas was armed with two short strangely curved swords, like the one that were usually used by the Dothraki.
“Greetings, Butterfly”, Abbas said with mocking politeness, as the crimelords men were drawing away from them, gathering in the middle of the warehouse in an attempt to shield their leader. There were eight of them remaining, not counting the crimelord himself. Against him stood almost a dozen with Martin, as well as the two Ghiscari. “My name is Abbas al-Yunkari and this loveable brute next to me is my friend and business partner Bakr al-Astapori”, Abbas introduced himself. “It's hard to make a man like me angry, but you... oh, you disgust me. Today I am here for one thing...” He pointed one of his blades at the crimelord. “To give you fucking bastard exactly what you deserve”
“What I deserve?”, Butterfly asked with a dangerously low voice. “You want to give me what I deserve?” Before Martin could answer, a young woman whom Jaron had never seen before stepped up. Her skin was as pale as snow and her hair was dark blonde, tied up to a strict bun. Her face was gaunt, but still pretty to look at, while the expression in her light blue eyes was full of hatred. She was holding a small hatchet in each hand and was clearly trembling with anger. “You're Butterfly?”, she asked and her voice shivered and cracked.
Butterfly took a mocking bow. “What's it to you, you whore?”, he asked and a cruel smile appeared on the woman's face. “Leave him to me...”, she growled at Martin and he gave her a short nod. Butterfly on the other hand let out a sigh. “Another one who wants to kill me. How annoying”, he snarled, pointing his sword at Martin and his men. “I won't go down easy. You want me? First you have to pay, with blood! Get them, boys!”, he screamed and his men answered with a loud warcry before they began charging at Martin and his mercenaries, at Abbas, at Bakr. None of them even paid attention to Jaron and Harpy. She finally let go of her sword, the blade falling to the ground with a loud noise as she fell backwards onto the ground, right next to Jaron. A blissful smile appeared on her face as she looked at him. “It's over...”, she mumbled. “He can't win this...”
Indeed, Butterfly's men were vastly outnumbered, but they still managed to put up a surprisingly good fight. And they refused to run and refused to yield. They preferred to die for their master. The first to die was one of Martin's mercenaries, who was nearly eviscerated by one of Butterfly's men until Martin stepped in. Butterfly himself managed to kill a man who dared to attack him, before the blonde woman who spoke earlier managed to engage into single combat with him. Her hatchets had a clear disadvantage over Butterfly's sword, but she did not seem to be hindered by this. Instead, she quickly forced him into the defensive, like Robb had done earlier, her hatchets delivering a rain of strikes and blows that made it hard for Butterfly to defend himself.
To Jaron's right, Bakr's massive axe split the skull of one of his opponent's in half, while Abbas was spinning around, fighting against two enemies at once. His fighting style reminded Jaron of the braavosi water dance, while Bakr simply relied on brutal strength. None of Butterfly's men was a match for them.
Martin quickly dispatched of another opponent and darted towards Jaron and Harpy, while Butterfly was still fighting for his life behind him. The whole battle was over quickly, as Butterfly's men were chanceless against the Burned Man's mercenaries. Martin himself took a glance over his shoulder, were Butterfly was still fighting against the blonde-haired woman. The crimelord was surrounded by the surviving mercenaries, but he still refused to give up. It was clear that he was defeated, but even if he wanted to give up, the woman did not look ready to allow him.
Joyful laughter sounded as Harpy was running towards Martin. The mercenary threw his blades on the ground and grabbed her at the waist, raising her high in the air while spinning her around in rejoicement. She was still wearing her brazen hairpin, albeit a few strands of reddish brown hair were loosened, flowing freely in the wind as she tightly hugged Martin. “We won...”, she mumbled, her eyes wide opened in amazement. Martin's smile vanished as he looked towards the crimelord, who was still fighting. “Not yet...”, he growled. He let go of Harpy and slowly walked to his men. She gave Jaron a short look, before grabbing his healthy arm with both of her hands. “Can you stand up?”, she asked and Jaron gave her a reluctant nod. “I hope so...”, he mumbled and a worried expression flashed over her face. Softly, but with determination, she pulled him back to his feet, clutching his healthy hand up to the point where it almost hurt. Jaron did not mind. In this moment he barely noticed the thumping pain in his left arm, the tiredness that was rising inside of him. They were alive. They had won! Almost at least...
Butterfly and the blonde-haired woman had just exchanged a few blows and were now circling around each other like wolves, trying to spot a weakness in the other one's defences. “Stay back!”, she shouted as one of the mercenaries attempted to attack Butterfly's unguarded back. “He's mine!”
The crimelord had an almost corteous smirk on his face and nearly took a bow in front of her. “Oh, my lady, what have I done to deserve your hatred?”, he asked. “I never forget a face, but I still can't remember you” She narrowed her eyes, her stare piercing at him. “My name is Samantha Ducard...”, she growled. “You ordered my families death, just to train one of your killers!” She spat these words at him and Butterfly raised an eyebrow. “Ah, you're from the North then...”, he answered. “I see... that makes sense. If it gives you some comfort, I'm sure your worthless family deserved it!”
Jaron immediately realized that the crimelord took it too far with this. Provoking an enemy was always a risky move. Robb had been too angry to fight without mistakes and that caused his death. Samantha on the other hand was even more angry, her facial expression twisted with fury and hatred. She was beyond simple anger and she wouldn't make a mistake. If anything, Butterfly's death just got a lot more painful.
She let out a cry of pure, helpless rage as she started to deliver a hurricane of blows at Butterfly, faster than anything Jaron had ever seen. The crimelord's lack of skill became apparent now as he barely managed to parry or dodge her strikes. He was forced to take a few steps backwards, while she followed closely, attacking him with both weapons simultaneously. A simple feint proved to be his undoing as a strike that was seemingly aimed for his upper arm hit him in the upper leg instead. The hatchet easily broke through Butterfly's trousers, causing a deep gash at his left upper leg. The crimelord let out a cry of pain, but managed to parry her second hatchet regardless before going down on his knees.
Even now he was only slightly smaller than Samantha, his shoulders still twice as broad as hers. He had grabbed his sword with both hands, parrying the hatchet she was holding in her left hand. With a squishing sound she was removing her second hatchet from his leg, causing Butterfly to grimace in agony. Out of a reflex, his left hand moved down to clutch his bleeding leg. Jaron noticed the smirk on Harpy's face as Samantha raised the hatchet in her right hand and he knew what the woman was about to do. She could have split his skull right now, she could have cut his throat. She could have given him an easy death. Instead her hatchet moved down almost too quick for Jaron's eyes to follow, hitting Butterfly's arm and cleanly severing his right sword hand at the wrist.
For a single second, Butterfly did not react to the injury. He just knelt on the ground, looking at the stump where his hand used to be. A groan of sheer agony forced it's way out of his throat and he looked from his wound to Samantha's cold face, his own facial expression being located somewhere between agony, disbelief and shock. But he did not scream.
Just as he was about to sink backwards to the ground, Samantha grabbed him at the collar of his shirt with her left hand, preventing him from sliding to the ground. Tears were flowing down Butterfly's face as he visibly resisted the urge to scream. His stare moved back to his bleeding stump, to the severed hand on the ground and to Samantha. For a short moment, no one said a word, not even Harpy, who was still clutching Jaron's hand. And then, Samantha raised the hatchet in her right hand.
“This is for all the people you killed!”, she shouted, slamming the hilt of her hatchet down into his face. The force of the blow was enough to cause a cracking sound as it hit the crimelord's nose. “For all the families you've destroyed!”, she yelled again, violently hitting his mouth with the wooden hilt of her hatchet. Butterfly's head was pushed back and he had to spit on the ground, a mixture of saliva and blood and teeth. “For all the lives you have stolen!”, Samantha screamed, hitting him in the nose again, completely smashing it. “This is your reckoning, you son of a bitch!”
With these words she delivered a series of brutal blows to his face, slamming the hilt of her hatchet into his ruined mouth, against his slightly dislocated jaw, into his smashed nose and deep into his left eye. As she pulled it back, the hilt of her hatchet was stained with his blood, his face a broken ruin. One of his eyes was bleeding red, clearly destroyed. His nose was smashed beyond recognition, his jaw dislocated and his open mouth revealed that at least half of his teeth weren't more than shattered stumps. Finally, Samantha let go of Butterfly, allowing him to sink to the ground, where he was breathing heavily, still alive, still conscious, but shattered and broken.
The moment of mercy was gone as quickly as it came and Samantha violently stomped on Butterfly's unprotected crotch. The force of the kick caused a barely conscious Butterfly to scream in pain and in terror as he involuntarily spat a mixture of blood and saliva into her face. With a disgusted expression, Samantha took a step backwards, looking around at the mercenaries. “Do you have any last words, you disgusting pig?”, she asked.
“Wait!”, another voice shouted. Harpy. Jaron looked towards her and shortly met her gaze. He did not like what he saw. Of course, she looked pleased and he couldn't hold this against her. But there was something else in her eyes, something dark. Years of fear and despair were visible on her face, years in which she had cowered in terror under Butterfly.
“He is not yours to kill”, Harpy mumbled. She and Samantha looked each other in the eye and the hateful expression in the woman's face vanished, showing a deep understanding. “I see...”, Samantha answered sullenly. “He is all yours”
Harpy gave her a nod and grabbed the brazen hairpin, pulling it our of her hair in a quick movement. Long strands of reddish brown hair fell down to her shoulders as she was clutching onto the hairpin. “That one's going to be more painful”, she mumbled and it was unclear if she was talking to anyone in specific. Jaron and Martin exchanged a worried look and the knight walked up to her, putting his unwounded hand onto her shoulder. She tensed up under his touch and gave him a short and frightened glare that quickly got warmer as she recognized him.
“Harpy are you...”, he attempted to say, but she cut him off. “Don't...”, she answered quickly. “Just... don't...” She looked back at Butterfly, whose expression of pain had vanished. Instead, his usual infuriating smirk had returned. “Settling the score, right, you fucking whore?”, he growled and his voice sounded barely intelligible.
“You are awfully smug for a man who is about to die...”, Harpy answered and Butterfly gave her a weak nod. “I know, even if you kill me you have lost”, he revealed. “You failed to kill the Tom. Samuel and Jaylon weren't here. All my other lieutenants. They are still out there. You think they will just give up? Think again...”
He raised the stump of his right arm, looking at it while a mad smile was formed on his face. “You can kill me, but you can't kill Butterfly. This dream is bigger than me. If you kill me, my men will do everything to avenge my death. I am the one keeping them in line. Without me, this city will drown in violence”, he explained. “But I don't want to die. I am willing to retreat. I am willing to give up and to withdraw from this city”
“And why should I allow this?”, Harpy spat. She attempted to get closer to him, but Jaron raised his arm in her way, forcing her to stop. Butterfly gave him a grin. “Clever bastard”, he complimented him. “Keeping your bitch on a leash, so that the men can talk in peace. She is a dumb child. But you... you are cunning, am I right? You realize the chance I give you. Take me back to your cripple and I am willing to talk”
“The hell we're going to do!”, Harpy growled. “Get out of my way, Jaron. He has to die!” Butterfly slightly shook his head. “Proves my point. Stop her from killing me and we can end this war”, he explained. “I only need one more thing in this city, something that is not concerning you or the Burned Man. At this moment, Samuel is getting it for me and when he has it, I am willing to retreat. I will take all of my men with me”
“You can't trust him!”, Harpy yelled. “Don't let his lies cloud your judgement. Step aside and let me kill him!” She looked past Jaron towards Butterfly. “You are going to curse the day you were born, you monster! When I am done with you, you will beg for death”
A weak laughter found its way out of Butterfly's throat. “Oh, shut up you worthless halfbreed harlot!”, he growled. “You want me to beg for my death? Let me tell you how it's done. I took their tiny hands and chopped of their fingers, one by one. I enjoyed their high-pitched screams when I blinded them. I whispered into their ear 'Butterfly, Butterfly', so that they don't forget my name... Many of them screamed your name, begged you to help them. But you never did. And it took me a while to punish them for all their crimes, but then... That's how you make someone beg for death” He looked at Harpy, who stood there frozen in terror. “Is that what you want to do?”
His remaining eye looked back at Jaron and his smile got even more cruel. “You hate me for what I am, but still you can't bring yourself to kill me, right? You are a little honourable knight. You have moral guidelines that make you so much better than me, you self-righteous little prick! I am wounded and unarmed and willing to surrender. I know you have to do everything to stop this stupid child from killing me, by your honour!”, he growled and tried to spit Jaron in the face. The blood barely managed to leave his mouth.
“You are not as stupid as your cross-breed cunt here, right?”, Butterfly hissed and Harpy was trembling with anger, the hairpin in her hand shivering. “You can see what I am offering you here. Kill me and continue the war. Spare me, allow me to take one last thing, this thing that does not affect you at all. Spare me and this war is over”
Butterfly stopped, looking at his arm stump. “I offered you peace!”, he spat and the sudden yelling was enough to surprise even Harpy. “I offered you peace, I always did. Peace for this city, peace for everyone who would only abide the law. All will be well, he promised it, he promised it to me! I always offered you nothing but peace and look how you repaid me!” He raised the bleeding stump and pointed it at Jaron. “I gave you everything and look how you repaid me...”, the broken crimelord mumbled.
“Step aside...”, Harpy mumbled softly, tears flowing down her face. “Let me end his life. You know we can't trust him. Just put your honour aside for once, Jaron. This was never about honour. This was never about justice. This was about our survival” Her stare got bleak as she looked away from him and from Butterfly. “This is about our survival. Yours. Mine. Martin's. Ellena's. All the others who are threatened by him. This is not about your honour. As long as he is alive, we can't be safe. As long as he is alive, we...” She paused and started to weep in grief. “All the lives he destroyed and still he has the audacity to beg for mercy”, she mumbled and as she looked up, her eyes were full of hatred.
“Oh, the little bitch is angry...”, Butterfly mocked her. “Hold her back, bastard. You know it's the right choice. We both know you are too honourable to allow her to kill a man who is not a danger anymore”
“But he is...”, Harpy mumbled. “He can't be trusted. As long as he is alive, he will continue to hunt us. Step aside and let me end this threat. Let me end this, allow me to make him pay!” Her teary eyes met Jaron's stare and the knight never felt that conflicted before. Butterfly was right, killing a wounded and unarmed man wasn't honourable. But Harpy was right too. He deserved it and worse.
“Come on, bastard. Get me to the Burned Man, I don't have time all day for your shit!”, Butterfly shouted and Harpy growled something in barely intelligible Ghiscari. “I will make you pay”, she hissed in Westerosi again. “Just once before you die, you will learn the true meaning of fear, you will learn what pain is. Just once, you will beg like you made them beg”
Butterfly let out an annoyed sigh. “Do not give promises you can't keep”, he mumbled. “Your honourable prick of a bastard knight has to stop you, we both know it. And do me a favour, shut your whoring mouth, for I am tired of your words!”
Harpy narrowed her eyes and focussed her stare at his remaining eye. “I will hear you scream before you die”, she promised and Jaron had no doubt that she would do her best to keep this promise. He knew, Butterfly would deserve it. But what if he was saying the truth? What if this war could be ended by sparing him? What if he would retreat? And what if he was lying? Could he trust him?
[Step aside and allow her to kill Butterfly] [Try to convince Harpy to spare Butterfly]
(Step aside and allow her to kill Butterfly)This part was a lot of fun . I enjoyed it .
[Try to convince Harpy to spare Butterfly] Not killing him. Don't be a fool.
This entire part reminded me of Carver's demise. And of the Crooked Man. Well, Butterfly as a whole reminds me of the Crooked Man.
Butterfly got fucked up. God why did Jaron not just negotiate. I kind of expected a better effort from Butterfly's men.
Did you think I wouldn't see this?
You know what I just realized? Let's examine
This is from Lucas' last part:
He's going for Dairon. It all makes sense. The Burned Man knows this, but I don't think anyone here in this part on his side knows. Which is a problem because we will face if we kill or spare him. And with the Burned Man's men (that sounded weird) occupied, we will need Mullendore, who probably is plotting the Burned Man's demise. God it's complicated.
I remembered to do a poll this time:
http://strawpoll.me/4809122
[Step aside and allow her to kill Butterfly] Valar morghulis
Oh god, I just realized this. It was completely unintentional, I swear XD
That one the other hand is absolutely intenional. Both, the Burned Man and Butterfly got a few personality traits than can also be found in the Crooked Man. The personality of Butterfly in particular was also influenced by Carver.
Actually, this wouldn't have changed much about the outcome. After the chapter finale I will go into greater detail for the alternative choices, but the end result would have been the same in this option.
Yes, I can confirm that you are right here. And even if Butterfly dies here, it is possible that Samuel won't abandon this mission, as it is unlikely that he would learn about his bosses demise in time.
If you think that it's complicated now, wait until you read the next part. Some things are going to be far more complicated after it, some are going to be less complicated, but nothing will be like before. And nobody is going to see it coming >:D
[Try to convince Harpy to spare Butterfly] So I missed the last parts. Wow what a part, possibly one of the best parts I have read. I'm very hyped for the next Lucas part, Samuel might actually put on a fight for the first time, which im excited to read about.
[Step aside and allow her to kill Butterfly]
Wow, amazing part!
[Try to convince Harpy to spare Butterfly]
As much as I want to kill Butterfly, there will be way too many consequences that will have to be faced if we do kill him. I think it's best to just be safe and spare him.
[Step aside and allow her to kill Butterfly]
[Try to convince Harpy to spare Butterfly] I never pick the kill option if theres an alternative NO MURDER!! Besides Harpy/the Burned man will be more powerful and just as bad as Butterfly if not worse if Jaron lets this happen. Not very big on bringing him to the Burned man though I still don't trust him. I don't believe Butterfly will end the war but I'm still not okay with killing him. I'm a bit worried about how Samantha will react to this choice.
This was a fantastic chapter!
I wonder... will Butterflys demise affect the Assassins in Raylansfair in any way? Most likely not I doubt they'll hear about any time soon.