Oh yes, I can confirm big things coming up for the Reyne's! I feel bad that it took me so long to get to the point, but we're getting closer and closer. I'm having plans for all of them, not just Willfred, even if he's likely continuing to be the most prominent of the family. Or at least one of the most. They will play a key role in Book 2 and ever since you submitted them about a year and a half ago, I have some very exciting scenes planned for each. Hope you'll enjoy it
And well, I can assure you that the story is going very well. I am also highly excited for Book 2, especially as it comes closer and closer. While I am a bit behind my far too enthusiastic deadline (and not for the first time), I have high hopes to finish Book 1 by the end of this year. We'll see how spectacularly I fail about that
And well, some pretty nice stuff is coming up in Book 2. Like, 90% of your submitted characters for example
Damn look at the production value
Haven't lurked around here for a while (have some catching up to do), but i'm exited to see it's still going. and this makes me even more exited for book 2
Keep up the good work
The moment when Alysanne and Kersea hugged was extremely cute c:
It was, wasn't it? I'm glad to hear this, because that was what I was aiming for.
But then Clayton ruined everything. Sick bastard! For a second I though that he would actually rape her.
I can confirm that he even had this intention for a moment and would have likely gone through with it if Kersea wouldn't have fought back. It is not the first time he had such an urge, but usually he manages to control it. As a result of his anger, he failed to control himself this time, until Kersea caused him severe physical pain, which kind of caused him to snap back to his senses. Let's hope there won't be a next time.
The moment when Alysanne and Kersea hugged was extremely cute c:
But then Clayton ruined everything. Sick bastard! For a second I though that he would actually rape her.
AAA the good days. when people like me and supersagig made so many chars you had to slap our hands.
The times where you could count the not introduced chars.
The times where we cried for Ser Ilhan.
The times where every other post was about killing Jenna Harking
Those where indeed the days
Hey husmusen, always nice to see you around!
And well, I can assure you that the story is going very well. I am also highly excited for B… moreook 2, especially as it comes closer and closer. While I am a bit behind my far too enthusiastic deadline (and not for the first time), I have high hopes to finish Book 1 by the end of this year. We'll see how spectacularly I fail about that
And well, some pretty nice stuff is coming up in Book 2. Like, 90% of your submitted characters for example
The new part is going to be out either today or tomorrow
Usually, I'd close the voting right now, but without a voting, I think it couldn't be a bad thing just to announce it. I have made quite some progress with the writing, but there are two other things I have to take care of today, namely the birthday of my grandmother, which means I'll spend the next hours at her place until the evening, and then another thing I have to write, a character I really wish to submit for another story, which might take me another hour or two this evening. That means, you might have to wait until tomorrow for the next part. Anyways, I hope you all enjoyed the latest part
This next part is going to (finally) include the Drent POV I promised several times before. In fact, it is going to be a main focus of the next part and it will take a majority of the space. This one is almost done, although I am currently unsure about a choice. Then, I plan to include an Ilish PoV as well, which is likely going to be very short, although it'll include an important choice. The last time we saw Ilish, she and her group, currently consisting of Philip, his good friend Torold, Jarow and Taenora, who owns a large part of the fair, have arrived at the town square, where they have decided to search for Kreep, in the hopes that he is going to try and free his father. Knowing the location, Ilish realized that if he plans to look over the entire town square while staying out of sight himself, he has to hide in the stables next to the tavern, so they decided to check this building ou.
Oh yes, I occasionally miss these days That said, I'm happy about the story coming that far already. Still, the early days had a very special charm, even if my writing was less experienced back then. There were fewer characters, things were smaller in general and I actually thought I'd be done with the story by late 2016. I can't even begin to fathom how wrong I have been XD Neither do I regret being wrong though. One thing I do not particularly miss is the vocal calls to kill Jenna, that one seems to have largely died down.
AAA the good days. when people like me and supersagig made so many chars you had to slap our hands.
The times where you could count the not… more introduced chars.
The times where we cried for Ser Ilhan.
The times where every other post was about killing Jenna Harking
Those where indeed the days
I'll jump in before the next part with a new batch of illustrations. Unlike last time, there isn't really an overarching theme between these characters, except that they have all been in the story for a long time (one of them has actually even been gone for a long time already), and they have all been drawn before by foxbrg. Alright, enjoy
Hey guys!
I'll jump in before the next part with a new batch of illustrations. Unlike last time, there isn't really an overarching theme … morebetween these characters, except that they have all been in the story for a long time (one of them has actually even been gone for a long time already), and they have all been drawn before by foxbrg. Alright, enjoy
Thanks, man! And I don't really have a plan on how many of these will I do, I just do the ones that Liquid wants But I definitely do enjoy drawing these, and imo every character does deserve an illustration - another question is if that is realistically possible
Thanks, man! And I don't really have a plan on how many of these will I do, I just do the ones that Liquid wants But I definitely do enjoy… more drawing these, and imo every character does deserve an illustration - another question is if that is realistically possible
Hey guys!
I'll jump in before the next part with a new batch of illustrations. Unlike last time, there isn't really an overarching theme … morebetween these characters, except that they have all been in the story for a long time (one of them has actually even been gone for a long time already), and they have all been drawn before by foxbrg. Alright, enjoy
Awesome. Simply awesome. You still manage to amaze me with every new bunch. Undoubtedly, the one I like the most here is Ilhan. Man, I regret killing him off that early, especially now that I see your awesome drawing of him, which is simply incredibly spot on. It really makes me regret that I have killed him off so early, especially as I had a second plan for him as well, which would have included him surviving for longer (although he was always planned to die in Book 1). The others are amazing as well! John is also totally amazing. I love the details, like the blood on the blade. Then there's Janae, who honestly somehow reminds me of Grumpy Cat This is a good thing by the way, as the association is fitting. And well, I don't think I'll ever get that one out of my head again. Willfred is perfectly spot on as I have imagined him while writing and it makes me excited for the things I have planned for him. And last but not least, there is Jenna. I haven't expected it, but after thinking about it closely, I must say that she's my second favourite after Ilhan, even before John, who was the one I was looking forward for the most. I just think that you perfectly portrayed Jenna as she is right now, in the process of a healthy dose of character development, a mixture between whom she has been and whom she might be one day. As always, thank you
Hey guys!
I'll jump in before the next part with a new batch of illustrations. Unlike last time, there isn't really an overarching theme … morebetween these characters, except that they have all been in the story for a long time (one of them has actually even been gone for a long time already), and they have all been drawn before by foxbrg. Alright, enjoy
Cool. I'm also studying, writing my forum story (Multiverse Prime) and having a really fun and cool PM conversation with a friend so its cool on my end too.
For just a second, Drent had to stop as he finally managed to get out of the taproom. It had been full and hot in there and the cold air came as a relief. Now all he had to do was to find Ian Shortwood, which wasn't all that easy on the unusually crowded square. Drent's eyes fell upon the gallows they had built there. Whomever it was they were planning to hang, he was getting quite the audience.
It was only by lucky chance that he managed to spot Shortwood in the crowd. The man was a hedge knight and wearing chainmail beneath his vest, holding the sheath containing his sword right in his hand, but despite this, he managed not to stick out from the crowd, which Drent considered to be an impressive feat. He wasn't running, which would have drawn more attention to him, instead he was walking fast, just enough to get away from the tavern quickly without being noted. There was no doubt that he had done this before.
Meanwhile, this was Drent's first time in which he actually tried to follow someone without being noted. Naturally, it didn't take him long until he made a mistake. Perhaps his pace was slightly too fast, perhaps he was too obviously not a local, or perhaps he was too focussed on Ian Shortwood, but people were staring at him even from a distance.
Quickly, Shortwood noticed their stares past him and he glanced over his shoulder. His eyes barely widened as he saw Drent, but he lost control over his facial features enough to make it obvious that he had noticed him. Then, he fastened his pace, which prompted Drent to do the same. This turned out to be yet another mistake. While the hedge knight was still slow enough to to draw too much suspicion, Drent started to run, in the hopes of reaching him. Suddenly, the people were not only staring at him, they were in his way. He tried to move through the crowd faster than they were able to make way for him, which ended up slowing him down. Meanwhile, Shortwood just narrowly managed to avoid the crowd.
“Watch out!”, a burly man growled, as Drent bumped right into him. Raising his hands to show that he meant no trouble, he quickly took a step past him, to which the man growled something else, which Drent no longer listened to. He slightly slowed down and just saw Shortwood stepping out of the crowd and into a small street, out of view.
By now, Drent had to hurry. Several angry glares hit him, as he used his arms to make a way through the crowd at a steady speed. Still, it took him several precious moments to get to the end of the town square. By then, he saw Ian Shortwood leaving the side street into an even smaller alleyway. Muttering a curse, Drent started to run after him.
Even before he had reached the alleyway, he heard a frustrated sigh. “Oh, fuck...”, a voice mumbled and as he turned around the corner, he saw Shortwood standing there, his back turned towards him, facing the dead end. “A damn dead end...”, the hedge knight said, before he turned around. “Just my damn luck” He narrowed his eyes. “So, what do you want?” Though his voice was calm, Drent noticed how tense the man was. He hadn't drawn his sword, but he was in a position where he could easily do it, whereas Drent faced him unarmed.
“The truth”, he answered confidently. He knew, he had to get him to talk, until Montclair and Torrence would catch up to him. “Why did you run away?” To this question, Shortwood chuckled dryly. “You're a Stormlander soldier”, he stated. “When people like you come looking for others, I know things rarely get well” He put a hand onto the hilt of his blade. “Whatever it is you think I have done, you're wrong”
“Ser Emphryus Dresfel seems to think differently”, Drent answered and Shortwood raised an eyebrow. “Ser who?”, he asked. “Forgive me, but I don't know who this man is” Drent sighed and shook his head. “Ser Emphryus is a knight in service of House Durrandon. The personal bodyguard of Princess Argella. And he claims to know you”
“He must be mistaken”, Shortwood answered without missing a beat. He was still smiling, though by now, Drent noticed a glaring crack in his confidence. “It's just my face, you know. People always get that feeling, that they know me from somewhere. Suppose I got this common look you can find anywhere. I don't know a Dresfel and never had business with such an important man”
“See, and this is where things get difficult”, Drent sighed. “Because honestly, I don't believe you. You've been defensive, running away from me and you're nervous. No innocent man behaves in such a way” To this, Shortwood sighed. “Seriously?”, he asked. “I already told you, soldiers like you never mean good things. Whatever it is, I decided to get out before things would get hairy. Is that so hard to understand?”
He had a point, Drent had to admit it, but there was something else. His nervousness was more than just a man trying to avoid danger. It was the nervousness of a guilty man who tried to hide it. He was good at hiding it, Drent had to admit that much, but most of the soldiers he had spent time with had been liars themselves. True, their own lies were harmless, but the mannerisms they showed when trying to hide it, they were the same.
“It's not hard to understand”, Drent agreed. “Which is why you came up with this argument. Hard to counter without sounding paranoid. Perhaps partially true even. But not entirely” His voice got sharper and he noticed that Shortwood gulped. “Why don't you start telling me what you're trying to hide? That's your only way out of this”
Shortwood's stance changed. Formerly tensed up, nervous even, he visibly calmed down, after he let out a long sigh. Without breaking eye contact, he raised his sword, still in its sheath. “Because there's nothing to tell”, he answered. “At least not to a grunt like you. If you'd be this... Driefel? Dresfel. If you'd be this Dresfel, I might have told you how one of your soldiers chased me, cornered me, threatened me” He smirked, not in an unfriendly way. “I'm sure he'd like that. As far as I know, your army tries to regain some trust here in the Reach. Men like you are not helping. So why don't you step aside, let me through and we all forget this incident? I don't want any trouble, you don't want any trouble”
“Then tell it”, Drent said. “Go to Ser Emphryus and tell it. While he's busy listening, he can confirm that his suspicions against you are not true... that is, if they indeed aren't true” He smiled, as Shortwood's smile grew smaller. “I'm willing to risk it. How about you? Shall we go and see who's truly in the right here?”
The hedge knight sighed. “Let me through”, he demanded again, though Drent did not make way for him. Finally, the hedge knight took a step back. He breathed out, before glancing at the sword in his hand. “Fine”, he said, as he pulled the first few inches of his sword out of the sheath, the steel shining as the last lights of the sun fell upon it.
“The other men in my group, they're on their way”, he said and his tone grew more urgent. “You can't escape. If you kill me now, your life will be over as well. There's no way they're going to let you live. But if you come with me, peacefully, then I promise, no matter what you did, I will help you as good as I can” As he spoke, he raised his hands, to show that he meant no threat.
“Help?”, Shortwood said calmly and glanced down at the steel in his hand. “That won't be necessary. See, I already helped myself” He paused, before he shrugged and with a swift movement, he put the sword back into the sheath. “And I'm not going to kill you”
For a moment, Drent lowered his hands in confusion. Shortwood used this moment to slam the pommel of his sword right into his face. Drent groaned in sudden pain, as he stumbled backwards. The side of the sheathed blade hit his forehead and stunned, he went to his knees. Cautiously, the hedge knight walked around him. Then, before Drent was able to stagger back to his feet, he rammed the pommel against the back of his head.
As he lay on the ground, trying to remain conscious, Drent clearly heard the sound of steel getting drawn and a second later, he felt the tip of the sword at his neck. “You soldiers always mean trouble”, Shortwood said and Drent heard how nervous he was. “But I don't want any of it. That's why I came here” He paused. “I want a chance to live my life in peace, away from the likes of you. A second chance”
“What...”, Drent gasped, against the thumping pain in his head. “What have you done? What are you trying to hide from?”Shortwood hesitated to answer, though finally he did, his voice slightly shivering. “I assume that your Ser Emphryus is going to tell you his side of the story. It's the only one you will believe either way”
With these words, he pulled away his sword, taking away the pressure from Drent's neck. “You can tell Emphryus that I am not here to cause trouble. If he leaves me in peace, he will not see me ever again”, the knight said in a low voice. “Consider your survival a sign of my good will. This is my new life. I have no intentions of going back to my old one” After he said this, he walked away, leaving Drent behind on the ground, as slowly, everything faded to black.
He didn't know how much time had passed, but it could have only been minutes when he heard a familiar, gruff voice. “Golton!”, Montclair called out for him, as he put a hand onto his shoulder, shaking him. “Fuck, Golton, what happened?”
Drent moaned, as he rolled onto his back, to stare at the sergeant. For a moment, he saw something resembling worry in his commanding officers face. “Shortwood knocked me out”, he groaned and put a hand onto his aching head. “How long have I been here?”
“Half an hour at most”, Montclair answered and footsteps announced the arrival of Torrence Bernile. Panting heavily, he rushed around the corner. “No one there, Sergeant”, he reported. “He vanished without a trace” As he came closer, Drent saw the purple bruise on his face. “Back with the living, huh?”, he commented.
“You look how I feel”, Drent answered, as Montclair helped him back to his feet. “Listen, I'm sorry for not coming to your aid, I...” Montclair cut him off. “You did the right thing. Chasing Shortwood gave you a chance to capture him”, he said. “Even if you failed... Have you at least managed to get any information?”
Drent gave him a nod. “It's true what Ser Emphryus knows about him”, he answered. “Ian Shortwood is not the man he claims to be” With a pained sigh, he touched the back of his head. “Although I don't think he's here to cause problems. He spared my life”
“Right, after giving you a pretty neat shiner”, Torrence remarked, as he examined Drent. Montclair meanwhile just mumbled a curse. “Ser Emphryus is going to hate this”, he said and looked up. Behind the houses in the distance, just visible above the rooftops, was the castle.
“Sergeant, I'm sorry. I fucked this one up, so I will report back to Ser Emphryus”, Drent offered. “I almost had him. Shortwood, I mean. I could have fought back, but I was careless allowed him to take me by surprise” Montclair narrowed his eyes and shook his head. “Golton, you did excellent work here. You did exactly what we had to do, you gained information about the man that calls himself Ian Shortwood”, he complimented him. “As your commanding officer, it'll be my duty to report back to Ser Emphryus. You in turn will report this to the Princess. This Shortwood is apparently opposed to our presence here, so I consider him a safety issue. Ser Emphryus will be informed, but Argella should be warned as well”
“Me?”, Drent asked. “But... wouldn't that be your privilege?” Montclair chuckled. “Trust me, Golton, I'd rather have a nice chat with Ser Emphryus than to deal with the king's daughter”, he answered and Torrence sneered. “Besides”, he interjected. “You certainly have the best connection to her, out of us three”
Montclair glared at him. “Bernile, you worked better than expected today. Don't ruin my opinion of you now”, he growled. “Although you are technically correct. I wouldn't want you anywhere near her, for your own good, while I am in the wonderful position that I can delegate that task” He gave Drent a pat on the shoulder. “See it that way, Golton. It'll be your final task for this day. It was long, stressful and I could really need a drink right now” He started to walk down the alleyway, with Drent and Torrence following. “That means, for both of you, that tonight, the first round's on me”
No Choices for this part
Ilish
It was an easy choice for her. “We're going to stay together, everything else would be just stupid and way too dangerous”, Ilish said, as she rolled her eyes and looked at the others. “Seriously, have you never heard a scary story before? Or read one?”
The only one to answer was Jarow, who gave her a wide grin. “The Lord of Bridges does not read!”, he proclaimed merrily. “He lives the life others can only dream of!” Silence followed his words, as Philip glanced to the ground, slightly embarrassed that he had to hide a smirk. Finally, it was Taenora's harsh coughing that broke the silence.
“Alright then”, she said, her voice sounding even more hoarsy than usual after the strong coughs that had shaken her body. “You're right, girl. We're not going to split up and if this Kreep is getting away, then... well, then I'm going to track him down and I'll show him what it means to threaten my daughter”
After she said this, she was the first to walk towards the building, a determinant glare in her eyes. Jarow grinned after her. “I like this woman”, he said. “Oh yes, I really like her” He gave Ilish a wink and she raised an eyebrow. “Oh, if I'd be ten years younger”, he chuckled, before he followed Taenora, with Philip, Torold and Ilish herself close by. As she looked up to the stables, she momentarily thought to see someone standing behind the open window of the building's upper floor, though as she blinked, the shadow was gone.
“We better be silent in there”, Philip remarked, as the small group made their way through the crowd. Torold shook his head, disagreeing once more. “If he's in there, he's going to hear us anyway. He's probably going to spot us, despite that blasted crowd. Though it won't make it any easier for him, that much is for sure”
At Torold's words, Ilish frowned as she once more realized how much Wolfius was probably going to enjoy his approaching death. An audience for him... she'd rather have him hanged in the dungeons, with only the executioner present. Such a public death, it was too good for him. Alexander had it worse and he was a thousand times better than Wolfius.
Shortly, her thoughts drifted towards Lawsen. She hadn't seen him much during the last few days, as he mostly slept, so that his wound might properly heal. Still, she felt a sting of regret. He had saved her life, he and Alexander both, yet one of them was dead and the other was only in marginally better shape and instead of caring for him, she was chasing a killer, as if she was some kind of hero. It was the Granver blood in her veins, as she was afraid. Her father and brother had both rather cared for themselves than others, rather played hero and at least in case of her father, it had even gotten him killed. Ilish felt bad for leaving Lawsen to recover all by himself, but she was a Granver and couldn't resist the thrill this hunt actually gave her.
“I believe Torold has a point”, Jarow remarked. “Besides, I have never been a friend of sneaking around like a woman” As he spoke, his hand moved to the hilt of his sword and he drew it in the same motion. “KREEP!”, he yelled, as he entered the stables. Philip froze, before he put a hand onto his face. “Oh, fucking hell”, he mumbled.
“Kreep!”, Jarow yelled again. “This is Jarow, the Lord of Bridges! Your end is near. Give up and I shall grant you the mercy of a quick death” He let out a disturbingly bloodthirsty mixture of a chuckle and a growl. “But if you fight me, well, then I'm ready!”
“He has surely heard that one”, Taenora stated and her voice sounded even more dry than usual. Jarow gave her an excited nod, as he almost jumped into a horsebox. “AHA!”, he yelled, as his enthusiasm quickly died down. “I see, you're not in here! But be afraid, for I will find you!”
“Why have we taken him again?”, Philip asked, his voice only barely hiding his annoyance. “Alright, we speed this one up a little bit. Hurry, people. Torold, over there. Taenora, if you could make sure that Jarow is not the first to jump into these boxes, I'd be thankful. Can't afford to scare the horses... as little as you actually have in here right now” He looked at Ilish. “And you... we two are going to check the hayloft”
“I think I've seen something up there as we approached the building”, Ilish revealed and Philip frowned. “It might have been nothing”, she quickly added to calm him down. “Or he used the opportunity to go out through the back door”, Torold added. “We should have sent two of us there”
Ilish was the first to reach the ladder. It was an old thing, but it had been sturdy enough for her in the past, so it would do. She started to climb it and Philip followed closely. “Nothing in here”, Taenora called. “Same here”, Torold answered and Ilish felt her heart beating faster with a mixture of excitement and anxiety. That was it. He had to be up there and he wouldn't stand a chance against all five of them.
Almost too late did she hear the creaking sound of the ladder. “Shit!”, she managed to exclaim, as the old ladder cracked and gave in underneath the combined weight of her and Philip. Ilish had at least half a second to prepare herself for what would come. Having almost reached the hayloft, she reached up and managed to grab the solid wooden ground of it.
Unfortunately, Philip was less lucky. He crashed down with the broken ladder and heavily crashed to the ground, where he let out a loud scream of pain. Ilish gulped, as she glanced down and noticed how deep it actually was. Philip lay on the ground, his face a grimace of pain, as he reached down for his leg.
“Philip!”, Torold yelled, as he rushed to his side. “Easy! Take it easy” He glanced down to Philip's leg, before Taenora rushed into Ilish's field of view, followed by Jarow, who was no longer grinning. “Hold on, girl”, she yelled. “We'll find something for you to climb down, just...”
She gasped, as Ilish managed to pull herself up. “What are you...?”, she asked, though Ilish cut her off. “I got this”, she assured her. “Make sure Philip's alright” She opened and closed her aching palms, which had grown heavy from the quick exhaustion caused by pulling herself up to the hayloft. It wouldn't have taken much longer and she would have been forced to let go. And considering that Philip's leg was most likely broken or damaged in some other way even though he was below her, such a fall could have had grievous consequences.
“But, what about Kreep?”, Taenora asked and Ilish glanced across the hayloft. Only a little bit of hay was kept here, but there were some large crates and, of course, the open window. She did not see Kreep, though there was still something she did not expect. “He's not here”, she said. “But... there's a dog”
There indeed was a dog, a heavy, black animal, just sitting next to a couple of large crates, calmly staring at her. It wasn't looking dangerous, even though she knew the breed. A northern hunting dog, the kind that was used to hunt deer, or even bears in larger numbers. Carefully maintained fur hinted at the dog being taken care of, but there was no trace of an owner. And even more mysteriously, how did it get up there?
Shortwood is pretty cool I wonder what has he done in the past? Hopefully nothing too bad.
[Stay away from it] Sure, it could be just a harmless dog, but there has been too much weird shit going on lately for me to trust in that. Not necessarily with dogs, but wolves are close enough. I mean, could Kreep glamor himself to a dog? Or actually transform to one? Feels far fetched, but you never know. Or maybe the person who owns this dog was stalking up there and ran away through the back door XD Anyway, I see approaching the dog as an unnecessary risk.
Drent
For just a second, Drent had to stop as he finally managed to get out of the taproom. It had been full and hot in there and the col… mored air came as a relief. Now all he had to do was to find Ian Shortwood, which wasn't all that easy on the unusually crowded square. Drent's eyes fell upon the gallows they had built there. Whomever it was they were planning to hang, he was getting quite the audience.
It was only by lucky chance that he managed to spot Shortwood in the crowd. The man was a hedge knight and wearing chainmail beneath his vest, holding the sheath containing his sword right in his hand, but despite this, he managed not to stick out from the crowd, which Drent considered to be an impressive feat. He wasn't running, which would have drawn more attention to him, instead he was walking fast, just enough to get away from the tavern quickly without being noted. There was no doubt that he had done this before.
Meanwhile, this w… [view original content]
[Approach the dog carefully] What if this is like Until Dawn where we can befriend the doggy woggy? Illish would totally be so much cooler if she had a dog. And if it is deadly, she can always just climb on top of a crate and get out of it's reach.
Drent
For just a second, Drent had to stop as he finally managed to get out of the taproom. It had been full and hot in there and the col… mored air came as a relief. Now all he had to do was to find Ian Shortwood, which wasn't all that easy on the unusually crowded square. Drent's eyes fell upon the gallows they had built there. Whomever it was they were planning to hang, he was getting quite the audience.
It was only by lucky chance that he managed to spot Shortwood in the crowd. The man was a hedge knight and wearing chainmail beneath his vest, holding the sheath containing his sword right in his hand, but despite this, he managed not to stick out from the crowd, which Drent considered to be an impressive feat. He wasn't running, which would have drawn more attention to him, instead he was walking fast, just enough to get away from the tavern quickly without being noted. There was no doubt that he had done this before.
Meanwhile, this w… [view original content]
Actually, Ted, I have one crazy idea. Forum of Thrones is so big that it's obiously far beyond Telltale fandom. I was thinking about translating this fanfic into Russian and introducing Russian ASOIAF fandom to it. I really don't know when will I do it because I barely have any time... But I already have a goal and it's good, right?
Oh yes, I can confirm big things coming up for the Reyne's! I feel bad that it took me so long to get to the point, but we're getting closer… more and closer. I'm having plans for all of them, not just Willfred, even if he's likely continuing to be the most prominent of the family. Or at least one of the most. They will play a key role in Book 2 and ever since you submitted them about a year and a half ago, I have some very exciting scenes planned for each. Hope you'll enjoy it
Drent
For just a second, Drent had to stop as he finally managed to get out of the taproom. It had been full and hot in there and the col… mored air came as a relief. Now all he had to do was to find Ian Shortwood, which wasn't all that easy on the unusually crowded square. Drent's eyes fell upon the gallows they had built there. Whomever it was they were planning to hang, he was getting quite the audience.
It was only by lucky chance that he managed to spot Shortwood in the crowd. The man was a hedge knight and wearing chainmail beneath his vest, holding the sheath containing his sword right in his hand, but despite this, he managed not to stick out from the crowd, which Drent considered to be an impressive feat. He wasn't running, which would have drawn more attention to him, instead he was walking fast, just enough to get away from the tavern quickly without being noted. There was no doubt that he had done this before.
Meanwhile, this w… [view original content]
Drent
For just a second, Drent had to stop as he finally managed to get out of the taproom. It had been full and hot in there and the col… mored air came as a relief. Now all he had to do was to find Ian Shortwood, which wasn't all that easy on the unusually crowded square. Drent's eyes fell upon the gallows they had built there. Whomever it was they were planning to hang, he was getting quite the audience.
It was only by lucky chance that he managed to spot Shortwood in the crowd. The man was a hedge knight and wearing chainmail beneath his vest, holding the sheath containing his sword right in his hand, but despite this, he managed not to stick out from the crowd, which Drent considered to be an impressive feat. He wasn't running, which would have drawn more attention to him, instead he was walking fast, just enough to get away from the tavern quickly without being noted. There was no doubt that he had done this before.
Meanwhile, this w… [view original content]
Drent
For just a second, Drent had to stop as he finally managed to get out of the taproom. It had been full and hot in there and the col… mored air came as a relief. Now all he had to do was to find Ian Shortwood, which wasn't all that easy on the unusually crowded square. Drent's eyes fell upon the gallows they had built there. Whomever it was they were planning to hang, he was getting quite the audience.
It was only by lucky chance that he managed to spot Shortwood in the crowd. The man was a hedge knight and wearing chainmail beneath his vest, holding the sheath containing his sword right in his hand, but despite this, he managed not to stick out from the crowd, which Drent considered to be an impressive feat. He wasn't running, which would have drawn more attention to him, instead he was walking fast, just enough to get away from the tavern quickly without being noted. There was no doubt that he had done this before.
Meanwhile, this w… [view original content]
This would be incredible and something I'd appreciate very, very much! If you decide to tackle such a project, you can count on me supporting you as good as I can.
That's literally me right now:
Actually, Ted, I have one crazy idea. Forum of Thrones is so big that it's obiously far beyond Telltal… moree fandom. I was thinking about translating this fanfic into Russian and introducing Russian ASOIAF fandom to it. I really don't know when will I do it because I barely have any time... But I already have a goal and it's good, right?
Shortwood is pretty cool I wonder what has he done in the past? Hopefully nothing too bad.
This is something that woul have been revealed if John wouldn't have interrupted Torrence's attempt to break into Shortwood's room. Now, it will be revealed in a later chapter. However, at least Emphryus has been concerned enough upon seeing Shortwood that he ordered Montclair and his men to investigate, so he probably regards it as something bad.
I mean, could Kreep glamor himself to a dog? Or actually transform to one? Feels far fetched, but you never know.
That would be quite a twist, wouldn't it? While it sounds unlikely, it's not totally unthinkable either. I have actually, and against my original plans, thought about including another short Ilish part before this chapter ends, which should give an answer to this question.
Shortwood is pretty cool I wonder what has he done in the past? Hopefully nothing too bad.
[Stay away from it] Sure, it could be just a … moreharmless dog, but there has been too much weird shit going on lately for me to trust in that. Not necessarily with dogs, but wolves are close enough. I mean, could Kreep glamor himself to a dog? Or actually transform to one? Feels far fetched, but you never know. Or maybe the person who owns this dog was stalking up there and ran away through the back door XD Anyway, I see approaching the dog as an unnecessary risk.
He is indeed sort of okay. All shadiness aside, he spared Drent's life and he also saved Lucas and Leonard in the last chapter. So, he's probably not a bad guy, though there is still this thing he tries to hide, which may or may not be a bad thing.
*[Stay away from it]
So as much as I want to go near this dog, which I think will attack, I probably not the best.
Shortwood is a strange man. But he seems okay?
Originally, I have imagined this dog to look like an irish wolfhound, but after reading this, it suddenly turned into a Shiba Inu in my mind and I am oddly okay with that
Drent
For just a second, Drent had to stop as he finally managed to get out of the taproom. It had been full and hot in there and the col… mored air came as a relief. Now all he had to do was to find Ian Shortwood, which wasn't all that easy on the unusually crowded square. Drent's eyes fell upon the gallows they had built there. Whomever it was they were planning to hang, he was getting quite the audience.
It was only by lucky chance that he managed to spot Shortwood in the crowd. The man was a hedge knight and wearing chainmail beneath his vest, holding the sheath containing his sword right in his hand, but despite this, he managed not to stick out from the crowd, which Drent considered to be an impressive feat. He wasn't running, which would have drawn more attention to him, instead he was walking fast, just enough to get away from the tavern quickly without being noted. There was no doubt that he had done this before.
Meanwhile, this w… [view original content]
Well, it is the Westerosi equivalent of an irish wolfhound, which is a breed that was (as far as I know) originally bred for war, to attack men on horses and even chariots in ancient times. That means, if it is dangerous to her then she'll be dead before she gets a chance to climb on top of anything. But if she manages to befriend it, then I agree, that would be unarguably cool.
[Approach the dog carefully] What if this is like Until Dawn where we can befriend the doggy woggy? Illish would totally be so much cooler if she had a dog. And if it is deadly, she can always just climb on top of a crate and get out of it's reach.
[Approach the dog carefully] What if this is like Until Dawn where we can befriend the doggy woggy? Illish would totally be so much cooler if she had a dog. And if it is deadly, she can always just climb on top of a crate and get out of it's reach.
Oh yes, he helped a lot, didn't he? The mighty Lord of Bridges is surely always entertaining at the very least
Also I'm more eager to figure out what that shadow is all about.
This is something I originally meant to reveal in this part, though I cut it for length reasons and the fact that it was pretty late yesterday and I wanted to finish the part before going to sleep. Instead, it will be shown in another short Ilish part later in this chapter, which is also going to include the choice I originally had in mind for her.
Drent
For just a second, Drent had to stop as he finally managed to get out of the taproom. It had been full and hot in there and the col… mored air came as a relief. Now all he had to do was to find Ian Shortwood, which wasn't all that easy on the unusually crowded square. Drent's eyes fell upon the gallows they had built there. Whomever it was they were planning to hang, he was getting quite the audience.
It was only by lucky chance that he managed to spot Shortwood in the crowd. The man was a hedge knight and wearing chainmail beneath his vest, holding the sheath containing his sword right in his hand, but despite this, he managed not to stick out from the crowd, which Drent considered to be an impressive feat. He wasn't running, which would have drawn more attention to him, instead he was walking fast, just enough to get away from the tavern quickly without being noted. There was no doubt that he had done this before.
Meanwhile, this w… [view original content]
Drent
For just a second, Drent had to stop as he finally managed to get out of the taproom. It had been full and hot in there and the col… mored air came as a relief. Now all he had to do was to find Ian Shortwood, which wasn't all that easy on the unusually crowded square. Drent's eyes fell upon the gallows they had built there. Whomever it was they were planning to hang, he was getting quite the audience.
It was only by lucky chance that he managed to spot Shortwood in the crowd. The man was a hedge knight and wearing chainmail beneath his vest, holding the sheath containing his sword right in his hand, but despite this, he managed not to stick out from the crowd, which Drent considered to be an impressive feat. He wasn't running, which would have drawn more attention to him, instead he was walking fast, just enough to get away from the tavern quickly without being noted. There was no doubt that he had done this before.
Meanwhile, this w… [view original content]
Drent
For just a second, Drent had to stop as he finally managed to get out of the taproom. It had been full and hot in there and the col… mored air came as a relief. Now all he had to do was to find Ian Shortwood, which wasn't all that easy on the unusually crowded square. Drent's eyes fell upon the gallows they had built there. Whomever it was they were planning to hang, he was getting quite the audience.
It was only by lucky chance that he managed to spot Shortwood in the crowd. The man was a hedge knight and wearing chainmail beneath his vest, holding the sheath containing his sword right in his hand, but despite this, he managed not to stick out from the crowd, which Drent considered to be an impressive feat. He wasn't running, which would have drawn more attention to him, instead he was walking fast, just enough to get away from the tavern quickly without being noted. There was no doubt that he had done this before.
Meanwhile, this w… [view original content]
[Approach the dog carefully As long as Ilish approaches it carefully as it states in the option, I think this is the way to go. It does seem fishy but what's the worst it can do? (I hope I don't have to eat those words :S)
Drent
For just a second, Drent had to stop as he finally managed to get out of the taproom. It had been full and hot in there and the col… mored air came as a relief. Now all he had to do was to find Ian Shortwood, which wasn't all that easy on the unusually crowded square. Drent's eyes fell upon the gallows they had built there. Whomever it was they were planning to hang, he was getting quite the audience.
It was only by lucky chance that he managed to spot Shortwood in the crowd. The man was a hedge knight and wearing chainmail beneath his vest, holding the sheath containing his sword right in his hand, but despite this, he managed not to stick out from the crowd, which Drent considered to be an impressive feat. He wasn't running, which would have drawn more attention to him, instead he was walking fast, just enough to get away from the tavern quickly without being noted. There was no doubt that he had done this before.
Meanwhile, this w… [view original content]
Personally, I would have probably chosen to stay away from it, but it's kind of interesting that I have planned with the choice that actually won. In fact, if I would have had been able to make the last part longer, she would have approached the dog and I think that's more in line with Ilish's personality as well. She's certainly not afraid of a simple dog. Let's see if there's anything else she should be afraid of. Anyways, contrary to what I previously said, this part was not Ilish's final one in this chapter. There will be another one, probably equally short, paired with the finale of Drent's storyline again, which is going to happen very soon. In general, I am a bit behind my originally planned schedule for this chapter, so I will try to push the next parts out as quick as possible.
The next part is hopefully going to be out today. I have written half of it, but since it is going to be a very long part, I still have a lot of writing left to do. On top of that, I will be busy for a majority of the afternoon and evening, so I gotta pull an all-nighter again if I want to have any chance to finish this part today. But I'm excited to share this one with you and I hope you're going to enjoy it. It'll be the penultimate part of Jaron's storyline in this chapter, the first Jaron part we had in a very long time. The last time we saw him, he was brought to the labyrinth, together with Harpy and their new allies, Erik the sellsword and Lanford, top enforcer of the mysterious Hishi, who was Keira's employer. They had been captured by Samuel Harrington, who was secretly planning to defect from Butterfly after learning that he was betrayed by him and deliberately kept from finding his brother, on whom he wishes to take revenge for the killing of his family. He revealed his intentions and swiftly killed the other Solvers present, before freeing Jaron and the others. He then offered to lead them to the Burned Man, who was kept in the part of the labyrinth occupied by the Alley Cats. On their way down there, they stumbled upon a small torture room, where they met none other than Ayden Blackwell, whose whereabouts have been unknown after the Chapter 6 finale. They freed him and even though he was in a relatively bad condition, Jaron decided to take him with them as opposed to sending him back on his own or leaving him behind.
Drent
For just a second, Drent had to stop as he finally managed to get out of the taproom. It had been full and hot in there and the col… mored air came as a relief. Now all he had to do was to find Ian Shortwood, which wasn't all that easy on the unusually crowded square. Drent's eyes fell upon the gallows they had built there. Whomever it was they were planning to hang, he was getting quite the audience.
It was only by lucky chance that he managed to spot Shortwood in the crowd. The man was a hedge knight and wearing chainmail beneath his vest, holding the sheath containing his sword right in his hand, but despite this, he managed not to stick out from the crowd, which Drent considered to be an impressive feat. He wasn't running, which would have drawn more attention to him, instead he was walking fast, just enough to get away from the tavern quickly without being noted. There was no doubt that he had done this before.
Meanwhile, this w… [view original content]
Haha, I probably should have left it open slightly longer. But well, I think the winning option has already been determined, given the clear majority in favour of approaching the dog. Anyways, I'm still glad to have your vote, hope you enjoyed the part
Ayden was breathing heavily, though he put on a brave face despite his pain. Erik was supporting him, though he had to give up his shield in order to do this. Still, Jaron was convinced that this was for the better. Leaving Ayden behind, or sending him and Erik out of the labyrinth on their own, that would be a death sentence. And he could never do that to the man that had saved his life.
Right now, Jaron was walking next to Harpy and behind Samuel, who led them through the surrounding darkness. Ayden and Erik were walking behind them, while Lanford and his crossbow guarded their backs. He had long since lost every sense of orientation and without Samuel, he had to admit he would have been lost, as strange as the thought of having him as an ally still was.
“When are we going to be in the Alley Cat's territory?”, Jaron asked and Samuel didn't even look over his shoulder. “Soon”, he whispered in return, though he sighed soon afterwards and glanced at Harpy. “Listen... There's one thing you need to know before we go down there” He stopped, forcing the rest of them to do so as well.
Harpy gulped, before she looked at him. “What is it?”, she asked and Samuel sighed. “Usually, I wouldn't have brought it up, but now you brought the wounded man with you and...”, he said and cut himself off. “Let's just say, if we make even the slightest mistake down there, we will die. None of us will stand a chance”
“You already mentioned that”, Harpy answered and Samuel gave her a nod. “Yes, it's just... You do know the Burned Man is dead, don't you?”, he stated bluntly and Harpy froze in place. “What do you mean?”, she asked and though she managed to control herself well enough, Jaron heard the shivering of her voice.
Samuel didn't seem pleased with what he had to say. “I mean that there is no possible way we can find the Burned Man alive, or in any condition to survive”, he explained firmly. “The Sphynx won't let another prisoner escape from his dungeons. If he hasn't killed him yet, he has made sure that he will not escape. The only thing you can save is a corpse” His words momentarily echoed from the walls, as Harpy gulped audibly. “Why are you saying this now?”, she asked tonelessly.
“Because I want you to know that you're going to waste your life for a man that is already dead”, Samuel answered and through his harshness, Jaron saw something that resembled concern. “And not only yours. Mine as well and your knight's and Lanford's and those of your sellswords. You're going to risk them for a dead man. Is your Burned Man worth that much to you”
Now, Harpy took a step forwards and the glare in her eyes was sharp as steel. “That much and more”, she stated decidedly. Samuel was silent for a moment, just staring into her eyes, before he gave her a short nod. “It won't matter to me, because I'm going down there with you no matter what”, he finally said. “But I suppose the others should get a say in this as well. If they die down there, so will you and me”
Jaron quickly walked up next to Harpy. “There is nothing to discuss from my side”, he replied and gave her a weak smile. “I won't leave you alone now” This calmed her down visibly and she nodded, before she glanced over her shoulder, at Ayden, Erik and Lanford.
Ayden was the first to speak. “You saved my life”, he said, his voice still weak, though he regained his former strength with every passing second. “I was ready to die down here, knowing that Taria is safe. Perhaps I still am... though I'd prefer to live” Erik chuckled at these words. “And I'm just here to get paid. I ain't afraid of some kitties”, he added. “But if we meet the Tom, then I call dibs on his sword. They don't make them that way here in Westeros”
Finally, Lanford sighed. “I knew what I'd get into when I agreed to help you”, he said. “You know what they say about the enemy of my enemy” He glanced from Samuel to Jaron, before resting his eyes on Harpy. “And I'll be fucked if I ever leave a friend in need”
With the hint of a smile on her face, Harpy turned back to Samuel. “Was that all?”, she asked. “We have to get down there and we have to save the Burned Man” Though Samuel gave her a nod, it was Jaron who tensed up and put a hand onto her shoulder. He would stand by her side through this, but still... there was one thing he had to know, one thing that concerned him. “Harpy”, he said softly, as he momentarily massaged her shoulder with one hand. “Can we talk for a moment?”
Harpy looked at him for a moment, before she exchanged a glance with Samuel, who gave her a nod. He pointed at a door, slightly in front of them to their right, before he walked up to it, opened it and glanced through. Then, he turned around and gave them a sign to enter. With a look of concern, Harpy walked next to Jaron into the room.
Thankfully, it was not a torture chamber, as Jaron had feared initially. To be fair, it could easily serve as one, because it held all the tools Butterfly's men needed to spread pain. It was an armoury, holding dozens of swords, knives and crude tools Jaron didn't even want to look at any closer. He closed the door, leaving only the light of the small torch Harpy was holding.
“So...”, she sighed. “What is this all about?” Jaron clenched his teeth. “It's about what you said”, he answered. “Listen, you know I will support you through this, but it has grown to the point where I can't just ignore it” Gently, he put his good hand onto her shoulder and felt how she relaxed under his touch. “You just said you'd be willing to sacrifice anything to safe the Burned Man”
She avoided to look him in the eye as she answered. “That does not include you”, she said softly. “I am willing to sacrifice everything that's mine to safe him” She looked up and finally back at him. “Not you, never you. Not anyone and I won't demand their help”
“Yes, I know”, Jaron said quickly, before his gaze got stern, more worried. “But you. You just did it again. Told me you're willing to sacrifice everything that's yours to safe him” He felt a lump in his throat as he continued to speak. “Why are you so willing to waste your life for him?”
Now, a pained expression appeared on Harpy's face. She pulled away from him and for a moment, he thought she'd even turn around. She sighed and it seemed as if she would shrink under his gaze, clearly uncomfortable and barely daring to look at him. When she spoke, he heard the shivering of her voice. “Because he is my fault”, she revealed, her words barely audible, though as she said them, it looked as if she'd been relieved of a great burden.
Jaron furrowed his brows as he thought of her words. “You can't mean that”, he answered softly. “What happened that night, his capture, there was nothing you could have done to prevent it” He noticed how she tried to maintain her composure and he quickly took a step towards her to comfort her. “What happened is not your fault”
She glanced at him, before she shook her head. “This is not what I meant”, she said, not without sharpness. “Not at all... even though you're wrong with that as well. I could have prevented his capture. All I had to do would have been to spare Mullendore's pawn back in that warehouse” Momentarily, anger flared up in her eyes, though it wasn't directed at Jaron. “I was furious”, she hissed. “I was hurt and scared and furious... I did a mistake and the people I love the most had to pay for it”
Silence followed to her last statement, as Jaron knew how she felt. She blamed herself, just as he blamed himself for what happened back then. Neither of them were able to change it, but he hoped, prayed, that they would both have the strength to live with it. “But that's not all”, she whispered and the anger in her voice was gone in an instant.
Jaron gave her a curious look. “What do you mean?”, he asked and she looked back at him. “I am not only at fault for his current capture, I am at fault for his existence”, she explained. “The Burned Man. He is my fault. This is the reason why I have to save him”
“Your... fault?”, Jaron asked. “I... forgive me, I don't understa-” She cut him off. “Yes, you don't understand and that's always your fucking problem!”, she barked, in a momentary outburst of anger, though she immediately opened her eyes in shock, as she gave him an apologetic look. “I... sorry. This is...”
She sighed bitterly. “I am angry and I lose control of the situation and of everything and I'm helpless to stop it... and... and this is the worst apology ever and I'm sorry”, she said. “Sorry for being that way and for dragging you into all of this and for not giving you even nearly as much as I demand, I...”
This time, he cut her off, by pulling her into a strong hug. She gasped in surprise and for just a second, he enjoyed feeling her close, the warmth of her boy, the quick, short raising of her chest. “You do not demand a thing from me. You can't demand what you already have”, he said warmly. “And you have given me more than any living person in this world ever has”
Harpy's expression changed. From confused, scared and helpless with a hint of anger, she visibly relaxed, a small, but genuine smile forming on her face. Since Jaron was wearing heavy boots that made him even taller than he already was, she had to stand on the tip of her toes to comfortably kiss him. What was planned to be a fleeting kiss on the cheek ended up as a passionate kiss on the lips.
It did not last even nearly as long as Jaron had hoped. Just two or three second later, she pulled back and put her head onto his shoulder. He smiled at her. “Yesterday, in the alleyway... you told me you love me”, he said and she looked up. “I... I didn't even realize it at first. So much happened, I could barely focus and yet... Yet it was the only thing I was able to think of as I rushed through the streets, I panicked because I didn't know what happened to you. And I was afraid that I'd never get the chance to say it to you as well. I hoped to wait for better days, for a better place, but that's not what matters now” He softly reached for a strand of her hair. “I love you”, he said.
For a second, Jaron saw a mixture of emotions on her face. Pain was replaced by joy, sorrow fought with relief and lost. Then, all of it got replace by a wide grin, with which she just barely failed to hide her true feelings. “This is...”, she said and chuckled, as she glanced around the armoury, momentarily resting her eyes on a set of sharp pikes, before focussing back on him. “This is the most horrible place to ever say such a thing”
Jaron reciprocated her smile, as he realized how outlandish his words must be in such a place, in such a situation. “Oh, and a rain-soaked alleyway, surrounded by Mullendore's men, is such a better place?”, he teased her gently and her chuckle turned into a short laughter. “No, it's just as bad”, she admitted. “All of this city is a weird, messed-up place to confess to anything so sweet”
“It kinda fits us”, Jaron answered. “Aren't we ever?” Harpy smirked, though he saw a rest of the sadness that haunted her behind her dark eyes. “Aren't we always?”, she answered. They remained in a close hug for a second, before Jaron gained the strength to end this moment.
“There's this other thing you said”, he whispered. “You told me I wouldn't understand” Harpy bit her lip in sheepish guilt. “Listen, I was...”, she started, though Jaron cut her off. “No”, he said. “No, you were right. I do not understand. But I want to. Explain it to me if you can... and if... if this is not too personal”
Harpy sighed and her joy was gone. “With anyone else, I'd avoid the topic”, she admitted. “But I don't want to keep it a secret, not from you” She hesitated for a moment, as she tried to gain the strength to speak. “When I told you that he is my fault, I meant that literally”, she revealed. “It is my fault that he is the way he is. That he became the Burned Man in the first place”
Jaron narrowed his eyes as he realized what she meant. “You mean...”, he gasped and she gave him a nod. “You know I was born into slavery, into the household of the same man that owned the Burned Man”, she explained. “This man was Master Razdal zo Yunzak, the Ever-Benevolent, the richest man in Yunkai” Her voice turned almost spiteful as she spoke this name. “The cruellest man in Yunkai. I was born into his service, the Burned Man was bought by him from a group of Lorathi debt collectors, but we were in the same situation”
“So, the Burned Man comes from Lorath?”, Jaron asked and she nodded slightly. “Before he became the Burned Man, he was known as Arkan Gorys, a rich merchant from Lorath, with a talent for business and an addiction for gambling”, she spoke. “One day, he was unable to pay his debts to a group of very petty and vengeful men. They killed his family, his wife, his daughter...” She sighed. “I believe he saw a lot of her in me”, she whispered. “And they beat him almost to death, dragged him to Yunkai and sold him to the cruellest man they could find. From that day, no one ever dared not to pay them”
Once more she had to pause. “Arkan was the first person to show me kindness. More than that, he looked out for me. He cared for me and for the longest time, he was the only person in the world to do so”, she whispered and her voice shivered. “And he saved me. He saved my life when I fucked up, or else I would have become what he is today”
Jaron's eyes widened as he heard this. “You mean...”, he stuttered and she gave him a nod. “I mean that there would have been a Burned Woman. Or more likely, no one at all, because had I been in his place, I would have died”, she snarled. “It was supposed to be a simple task. Me and Arkan, we worked in Master Razdal's fighting pit. I had small hands and Arkan had skilled fingers, so we had to help the fighters into their armour”
As she spoke, Jaron remembered how she had helped him into his armour, back when they prepared to attack Butterfly at the warehouse. It had been such a small comment, so innocent back then. “One day, we had to tend to Master Razdal's son, Yezzak, who was fighting to test his skill, just for fun”, Harpy explained and she sighed. “I did not know him well, but he had a friendly smile. He made a joke, I had to laugh and I fucked up. I failed to properly strap down his helmet”
Jaron gulped, as he knew what would come. “Of course it slipped out of place in the fight, covered his eyes, as he stumbled right into his opponents strike. What was planned to be a light tap to his shoulder ended up cutting his throat”, Harpy whispered, as her gaze hardened. “The man who killed him chose the easy way out and died fighting the guards. Arkan did not get so lucky” She hesitated and as she spoke the following words, she was barely able to keep her cool. “He put the blame onto himself”, she gasped. “He had tended to Yezzak's opponent, but he still claimed that things were different. That he had helped Yezzak into his armour, that it had been his fault. And he did all of this even though he knew what Master Razdal would do to him”
“How... how old have you been?”, Jaron asked and Harpy gulped. “Five”, she answered. Now, Jaron clenched his fists. “Surely... surely this Razdal wouldn't have punished a five-year old. Not... not like he punished the Burned Man” Harpy shortly glared at him. “You don't know Master Razdal”, she said bitterly. “He would have done worse, because that's the kind of man he is. And Arkan saved me, because that's the kind of man he was”
“Harpy...”, Jaron mumbled and Harpy shook her head. “After Master Razdal mutilated him, it was my position to look after him. I was young, but even then I understood that I could never repay him. That for the rest of my life, I had to try to save what was left of his life”, she explained. “They tossed him out to die, denying him even a clean death. I sneaked out of Razdal's mansion, I dragged Arkan to the docks, I gave whatever coin I was able to steal to get him out of Yunkai”
Once more, she took a short pause, to breathe deeply. “He always promised me to show me Lorath, to live the life they took from him, the life I never had. Instead, we stranded here and he got deeper and deeper involved in all of this, thought he could change something, thought that he could help and do good”, she mumbled and shivered softly. “Instead, Arkan Gorys became the Burned Man”
Her determined glare hit Jaron by surprise. “Do you understand now why I look out for him so much?”, she asked sharply. “Do you understand what kind of a man he truly was? Do you understand why I have to save him, no matter the cost? Do you understand, Jaron?”
He gulped and blinked away the tears in his eyes. “I understand”, he said, as he pulled her close. It was a warm, comforting hug for her and he knew, she needed it as much as he did. He put a hand onto her shoulder and sternly looked at her, his determination matching her own. “Come on then. Let us save the Burned Man”, he told her. She looked up and a hopeful smile formed on her face.
Hand in hand, they left the room again. Erik raised an eyebrow as he saw them. “My, my... what were you two doing in there?”, he asked with a cocky grin. Harpy glared at him. “Nothing you could ever do, Inchfield”, she barked and Ayden, sitting on the ground, chuckled at her words. “She got you there, you asshole”, he answered. “Now come on, help me up. I think we'll continue”
A few feet away, Samuel and Lanford were talking quietly. It was Lanford who noticed them first, he looked up and gave them a sign to come closer. “So, me and Fang here discussed our next step in the Alley Cats' lair”, he explained. Samuel nodded slightly. “I think I know where they have brought your Burned Man”, he revealed. “The Sphynx, Butterfly's master torturer, he has private chambers down there and I'm sure he took the chance to get his hands on the Burned Man. Considering Mullendore's condition, I doubt he was able to object”
Harpy tensed up, though she bravely looked him in the eyes. “That's at least a direction. Can you find the way?”, she asked and Samuel gave him a nod. “Easily”, he answered. “I've been there often enough” Then, he looked at Lanford, who cleared his throat. “There's more. Safety measures, if you want to call them that way”, the older man answered. “First of all, we won't bring our torches. Down there, we fare better if they don't see us coming from a mile away. There will be a bit of light there, so we won't get lost. At best, we'll be able to see them, while they won't be able to see us”
Without hesitating, Harpy dropped her torch and it almost immediately burned out as it reached the ground. “Got it. Anything else we have to look out for down there?”, she asked. Samuel, holding the last torch they had, gave her a quick nod. “Most of the cats are currently out in the streets, killing everyone working for the Burned Man, at least everyone they can find”, he explained. “If we remain silent, it is unlikely we will run into any of them, but as I said, if they spot us, if even one of them manages to make a noise before he dies...”
“We're dead, yes”, Harpy said. “I don't force you down there, I already made myself clear on this” She breathed out and in Jaron's eyes, she seemed stronger, more confident with him by her side. “But we will not die down there. We can't”, she stated with such a dedication that even Samuel could only agree with her. “Let's hope you're right”, he said, as he dropped his torch.
Immediately, darkness surrounded them, with only the distant, sparsely used torches spending enough light for them to find their way and to make out the silhouettes of each other. The only ones Jaron was able to see clearly were Samuel in front of him and Harpy right next to him, though he also heard Ayden's heavy panting, as he dragged himself forward and Lanford's slightly nervous breathing.
“Right”, Samuel whispered and as Jaron moved his head, he saw a tunnel, like a gaping hole in the darkness, a pit befitting to the path that would lead them to the Alley Cats. The Tom would be down there, the man who murdered Martin and Keira. He'd be accompanied by countless of his men, enough to make even Samuel Harrington feel uneasy. And maybe, just maybe, they'd find the Burned Man.
Silently, they all turned to this tunnel and entered it. Jaron had expected things to feel different, now that they approached a place Samuel had described as the lair of all evil in this city, but truth be told, nothing changed. The air was still chilly and stale, the eerily damp walls were still just as off-putting as they were in the rest of the labyrinth and he heard nothing but the faint sound of their footsteps. He didn't even feel watched, which came as a relief. It wasn't even entirely pitch black, as very distant torches spend enough light to make out the shapes around him.
The next minutes, maybe even the next hour, passed quickly. The only one speaking was Samuel and even then, he'd only tell them when to turn left or right. His sense of direction down here was as admirable as it was unsettling, but as weird as it sounded, Jaron trusted him. He only hoped that this wouldn't turn out to be a terrible mistake.
Not even once did they see an Alley Cat. Once, Samuel held them back, while several dozen feet in front of them, two masked men passed through a crossing tunnel. This was the only thing that told Jaron that they truly were in their domain. Aside from that, nothing was different from the huge, empty labyrinth they passed through before. Still, there was a looming sense of dread that threatened to get a hold of him, the feeling that the worst was yet to come.
Through the darkness, he barely saw the shape of Harpy walking right next to him, though from the way she had still grabbed his hand, he knew that she felt even worse. After what she had told him, he could understand it. At the same time, he was more afraid than ever what this would do to her. What Samuel said, it made sense. Even if they would be able to reach him, it seemed unlikely the Burned Man would be able to leave the labyrinth ever again. He had no idea how Harpy would react, but he was afraid for her, so afraid.
Finally, Jaron saw a light in the distance. By now, he was clearly able to see Samuel's shape against this light, as he raised his hand and ordered them to stop. The sellsword leaned closer. “It should be down there. Wait for a second, I'll check it out”, he murmured in a quiet tone. Harpy squeezed Jaron's hand, as they watched Samuel approaching the light. He had a hand on his sword and even though Jaron did his best to listen, he heard not even the faintest sound of footsteps. Slowly, Samuel glanced into the room. Then, he turned around and raised his hand again, giving them a sign to follow.
A sigh of relief came out of Harpy's throat and only Jaron holding her back prevented her from rushing towards the room in a hurry. Instead, they both approached it together, at a slow, but steady pace. Behind them, Erik helped Ayden to walk closer, while Lanford still guarded their backs, noticeably louder than Samuel, even though he tried his best not to make any unnecessary noise either.
The room was large and compared to the rest of the labyrinth, it was brightly illuminated, even if it was still relatively dimly lit. Two long tables and rows of benches clued Jaron in that this was some kind of a meeting room. There were several large crates as well, as high as a grown man, and one of them stood open, revealing that it contained sturdy leather armour. Two other tunnels to their left and right led deeper into the labyrinth. And on the other side, across the tunnel they entered the room through, Jaron saw a large, wooden door, opened just a gap. Behind it, Jaron saw the flickering of a torch.
“Baa, baa, black sheep, have you any wool?”, a calm, almost serene voice hissed in a spine chilling tone, almost as if he was singing. This sentence was followed by a loud, shrill scream of pain. Harpy froze in obvious terror and even Jaron recognized the voice. It was Samuel who stopped her and likely saved her life, as she rushed right into his arms, pressing a hand onto her mouth, as he wrapped his other arm around her so strongly that she was unable to move. Jaron knew why he did it. He heard the footsteps as well, coming from the tunnel to their right.
Quickly, Lanford pointed at a space between the boxes and the wall of the room, presenting enough space that they could hide behind it. He and Erik worked together to carry Ayden behind it as fast as possible, while Samuel and Jaron dragged Harpy towards it. She went with them almost willingly, though silent tears streamed down her face, as she heavily bit down onto her lip to prevent herself from crying.
“Yes merry, have I, three bags full”, the cold voice sounded again, followed by another set of screams. Whatever happened to the Burned Man in there, it was painful. In all his life, Jaron had never heard a human being scream like this. Not even dying soldiers, trying to hold their guts in their belly, were able to scream in such pain. But he was still alive. He was still alive and that had to be worth something, right?
They lay on the ground behind the boxes, as there wasn't enough space for them to crouch without being seen. Even then, they had to huddle together. Harpy was lying half on top of Jaron, her face covered in his chest, while Lanford's leg was almost pushing against his broken arm. He was unable to see who entered the room, but it was only a single person for sure. Samuel, who was lying the closest to the room, dared to glance out of their hiding, before immediately pulling back, his eyes widened in something that almost resembled fear.
“One for my master, one for my dame”, the cold voice sounded again, before simultaneous sounds of screaming and someone knocking on the door interrupted him. The man's annoyed sigh was audible as well. “One for the little boy that lives down the lane!”, he yelled loudly and the screams of pain went to agonising heights.
“Sphynx, I must talk to you!”, the melodic voice of the Tom sounded and now, Jaron froze in fear as well as he realized who was standing there, just a few feet away, only separated by the crates. He remembered the cold look in the masked man's catlike eyes, as he had effortlessly fought against him and Martin.
“Erik!”, the cold voice, apparently the voice of the Sphynx, sounded, as the door got opened with a loud creak. “Didn't know it was you. Is there anything the matter?” Silence followed, before the Tom answered with obvious disdain. “Erik?”, he asked. “Are we on first-name basis now, Rodrik?”
The Sphynx chuckled in a monotone way. “Point taken, Tom”, he answered. “Connor, collect the cripple's skin! Bring it to my room, I'll find some use for it later” The sound of someone rising from a chair sounded. “Yes, Sphynx”, a youthful voice answered and underneath all of this, Jaron heard terrible sobs of pain. By now, Harpy's tears were flowing down his chest, though she remarkably managed to remain silent.
“What do you wish, Tom?”, the Sphynx asked and the Tom sighed. “I think I need your assistance again”, he answered and his voice gained a bitter streak. “It's the face again. I need your ointments. Wilshere gave me a couple of nasty blows in our fight”
“You underestimated him”, the Sphynx answered and the Tom hissed sharply. “I ran him through and he still had the strength to deliver a blow”, he protested and the Sphynx chuckled. “You killed his lady love”, he said and Jaron was almost able to hear his grin. “He had a lot of fight in him. Admirable. And you underestimated him. All of them”
“Butterfly did”, the Tom growled. “I urged him to use archers, but his arrogance nearly got him killed” He sighed. “This was the other thing I wanted to speak about. How is he?” The Sphynx whistled shortly. “Is that concern I hear in your voice?”, he asked. “Of course it is”, the Tom answered. “If he's going to die, who will pay us?”
“Who indeed”, the Sphynx remarked calmly. “But to answer your question, Maron is still not in a good condition. He's conscious and he's angry. I stopped the bleeding, treated his leg, seared the wound on his side shut and I even managed to save his eye, even though I couldn't save his vision” Now, the Tom chuckled, melodic, but joyless. “He'll have to live with one”, he answered. “The bitch fucked him up badly” To Jaron's horror, the masked man's voice sounded closer now, as if he had walked towards the crates they were hiding behind.
“That she did”, the Sphynx agreed. “You underestimated her as well. She's better than you thought” The Tom's displeasure was audible in his sharp breaths. “She's not any good. Not even particularly smart”, he growled and by now, he had to stand at the other side of the boxes. “She just... got lucky” A shiver of relief went through Jaron, as the Tom walked away from the boxes again. “And her luck can't remain forever. Although she's not top priority, so she might just survive”
“Ah, yes”, the Sphynx said. “This is something I wanted to talk about with you. Your priorities, your... plans. They... forgive me, Tom, but they are not what I would advice” The Tom's chuckle showed a hint of amusement. “And what would you advice?”, he asked.
“For starters, allow me to kill Maron”, the Sphynx answered immediately. “Most of the men, me included, expected you to kill him the moment he was at our mercy. The Burned Man's organization is as crippled as his body. Jaylon is dead and Harrington never wanted to lead. Who is left to lead, but you? Whom else could they bow to? The city is yours for the taking”
The Tom was silent for a moment. “And then what?”, he asked. “The Burned Man is gone. No matter what happens, Butterfly will follow, even if Maron Mullendore might just survive. They made a mistake I won't repeat. They had no one above them”
“You make it sound as if it would be a bad thing”, the Sphynx interjected. “It is a bad thing”, the Tom answered. “Now, I am just one of many. That way, I avoid becoming a target. What do you think happens if suddenly I become the one in charge? How long do you think I would last? We never thought Butterfly would ever fall, but all it took was one bitch who couldn't shut her mouth and now the street's full with rumour about Maron Mullendore and his secret”
“A rumour without evidence”, the Sphynx countered. The Tom sighed. “A rumour doesn't need evidence to be a weapon”, he answered. “Butterfly's reign over this city is over and with him, we lost our place here. All we can do is to leave with Maron when he rides north”
The Sphynx did not answer immediately. “So, you will stick to the plan?”, he asked. “Naturally”, the Tom answered. “Now more than ever. I have just received two ravens. One came from the king an he informed us that we must ride soon if we wish to reach Raylansfair in time”
“The king”, the Sphynx scoffed. “Maron puts too much faith into the guy” The Tom ignored his comment. “The second raven came from Petyr. He has gathered his men and ordered Ser Hugo Farnham to lead them. He himself will join them on the road north, hopefully with additional support from our men”
“Support you will grant him?”, the Sphynx asked. “If you manage to prepare Maron in time”, the Tom answered. “We need him in Raylansfair. If Petyr leads the army, then we'll be nothing but freaks to him. Maron meanwhile, he owes us his life. Because of that, you must get him ready for the journey”
The Sphynx sighed in defeat. “Fine”, he barked. “I am not a sorcerer, but I should be good enough for that. Gather the men, he will be ready, although he won't be in best shape” He paused for a second. “Even though I still don't understand why you do this” The Tom chuckled. “See, this is the problem with you. Lupin understood these things”, he answered.
“Lupin is insane”, the Sphynx answered. “He is”, the Tom confirmed. “And if I ever see him again, I'm going to cut his heart out and feed it to the crows” The Sphynx moved slightly. “So, I will concentrate on Maron then from now on. Shall I kill the cripple?”, he asked “Not yet”, the Tom answered. “Let him hang for a little longer, let him wriggle in pain. I will deal with him myself later on. First, I require ointment, that pain is killing me”
To Jaron's relief, the two men started to walk, through the room and into one of the tunnels. “How's the Moggy, by the way?”, the Tom answered. Now, it was up to the Sphynx to laugh. “He cried like a baby when I stitched his arm back together”, he said, as his voice got less audible with every step they distanced themselves from the room. “He's strong, better than any other Moggy we ever had. Give him until Raylansfair and he'll be able to crush skulls again”
And then, there was only silence. Harpy looked at Jaron, her eyes filled with tears and fear. Then, she jumped up and rushed past Samuel, towards the room. Jaron was barely able to keep up with her. He didn't need to. Even from afar, he saw that she stumbled into the room and onto her knees, hiding her face in her hands as she laid eyes on the gruesome sight that awaited her.
The Burned Man was indeed in the room, completely naked. They had driven large hooks through his ribs, two on each side, and they had attached chains to them, which effectively hung him above the ground, constantly applying pressure onto his damaged bones. One of his hands was missing, the one they had left in his mansion as a warning, while the other one was twisted and severely broken. The worst of it all was his chest and Jaron gasped as he realized that they had partially flayed him. The entire area was covered in small, gaping wounds, where the Sphynx had removed the topmost layer of flesh. Through a particularly gruesome wound, Jaron was able to see the sternum beneath torn strands of flesh.
The Burned Man raised his bruised head and through swollen eyes, he spotted Harpy. “You... came...”, he gasped, even these few words causing him to shiver with pain. By now, Harpy was crying uncontrollably. “Of course I did”, she answered softly. “I'm going to save you”
“You always... did”, the Burned Man managed to press through clenched teeth and Harpy shot a glare into Samuel's direction, who was standing the closest to a lever, that was built into the wall next to a table that contained all kinds of blood-stained tools. “Get him down there”, she hissed.
Before he did this, Samuel gave Lanford a nod. The older man turned around and walked back into the main room, where Ayden and Erik were still located. He closed the door behind him. “That should give you more privacy”, Samuel explained. “The Sphynx' torture chambers are designed not to let any sound out of it” Then, he walked towards the lever and pulled it, releasing the chains. Wisely, Harpy had rushed forwards, to catch the Burned Man before he could fall and to gently lay him onto the ground.
Now freed from the horrific and humiliating device, the Burned Man's expression grew visibly less pained. He took a deep breath, though he still shivered at the hooks attached to his ribs. “Thank you”, he mumbled and looked at Jaron. “All of you”
A small, hopeful smile formed on Harpy's face, as she cradled the Burned Man in her arms. “We can do this”, she said. “We can get you out of here. Come, let's see how we get these hooks out of you. This is going to...” The Burned Man's eyes widened and he almost bit through his tongue in the barely successful attempt to prevent a scream, as Harpy tried to remove the hook.
Jaron shivered in discomfort as he saw the tiny part of the hook she did indeed remove. “Barbs”, he answered. “It's a barbed hook. Pull it out and you kill him” Harpy threw him an alarmed glare. “But... but the chains! If we don't get these hooks out of him, we can't... we can't...”
Too soft for a man in so much pain, the Burned Man touched her cheek, using his broken hand nonetheless. “Exactly”, he said. “The Sphynx made sure that I... will never leave this room again” By now, he was crying as well and Jaron felt a lump in his throat as well. Even Samuel was obviously in discomfort, as he quietly watched the scene.
“No...”, Harpy gasped, as she realized what this would mean. “No! No, this is not how it's supposed to be! I... We came here to save you!” The Burned Man managed to smile at her. “You always did”, he softly answered. “And I... not a day passed where I haven't thanked the gods for you. I have to ask your forgiveness”
Even wailing in sorrow, Harpy managed to throw a confused look at him. “Forgiveness?”, she asked. “You... what for? You saved my life. Without you, I would have been nothing” The Burned Man shook his head and the action alone caused him to groan in pain. “Without me, you could have been everything”, he answered. “I see clearer now. How I held you back” He sighed and his body shivered in agony.
“You never did”, Harpy insisted gently and kissed his forehead. She said a few words in Ghiscari and Jaron was surprised how soft they sounded, despite their guttural origins. A pained expression flashed across the Burned Man's face. “And now it is time for you to continue without me”, he answered in the Common Tongue. “My path is at an end. It was meant to end a long time ago, but you saved me. You saved me every day of my life”
“I will save you now”, Harpy declared and he gave her a nod. “I know you will try. I love you for it”, he gasped. “And it pains me that I have to leave you” With these words, his head slowly sunk back onto the cold, black ground and only from the steady, yet pained raising of his chest, Jaron saw that he was still alive.
Harpy threw an alarmed glance at Jaron. “Help me! He's... you see how he is! We have to get him out of here, please!” Jaron looked at the hooks and shook his head in defeat. “We can't”, he answered, barely able to look at her in her pain. “They made sure of that”
“There might be one thing we could do”, Samuel remarked and Harpy narrowed her eyes, as she realized what he meant. She looked at the hooks, at the chains and at the Burned Man's condition, before her mouth slightly opened in sudden shock. Jaron could see the thoughts flashing through her mind, he could feel her despair. Staring dead-eyes towards the opposing wall, her hand moved down to the dagger on her belt. “You... no... no, you are right, aren't you?”, she mumbled tonelessly, while bitter tears continued to pour down her face. “We can't take him, we can't leave him. We can only save him. I... I can do this”
Pain flashed across Jaron's face, as he reached for her wrist. “Harpy”, he mumbled and she threw him another helpless look. “I can do this”, she said with an empty, cracking voice. Behind her, Samuel watched the scene, a hand on the hilt of his sword. The Burned Man on the ground, he did not say anything and from the way his eyes moved, Jaron wasn't even sure if he was still conscious. “I can do this”, Harpy lied again.
[Mercy Kill the Burned Man][Let Harpy do it][Ask Samuel to do it]
I think its important that that Jaron does this. However 100% I do not want Harpy to do it. So to make certain this does not happen I switch my vote to [Ask Samuel to do it] if it is in the majority of either of the two.
Immediately, darkness surrounded them, with only the distant, sparsely used torches spending enough light for them to find their way and to … moremake out the silhouettes of each other. The only ones Jaron was able to see clearly were Samuel in front of him and Harpy right next to him, though he also heard Ayden's heavy panting, as he dragged himself forward and Lanford's slightly nervous breathing.
“Right”, Samuel whispered and as Jaron moved his head, he saw a tunnel, like a gaping hole in the darkness, a pit befitting to the path that would lead them to the Alley Cats. The Tom would be down there, the man who murdered Martin and Keira. He'd be accompanied by countless of his men, enough to make even Samuel Harrington feel uneasy. And maybe, just maybe, they'd find the Burned Man.
Silently, they all turned to this tunnel and entered it. Jaron had expected things to feel different, now that they approached a place Samuel had described as the… [view original content]
Comments
Oh yes, I can confirm big things coming up for the Reyne's! I feel bad that it took me so long to get to the point, but we're getting closer and closer. I'm having plans for all of them, not just Willfred, even if he's likely continuing to be the most prominent of the family. Or at least one of the most. They will play a key role in Book 2 and ever since you submitted them about a year and a half ago, I have some very exciting scenes planned for each. Hope you'll enjoy it
Hey husmusen, always nice to see you around!
And well, I can assure you that the story is going very well. I am also highly excited for Book 2, especially as it comes closer and closer. While I am a bit behind my far too enthusiastic deadline (and not for the first time), I have high hopes to finish Book 1 by the end of this year. We'll see how spectacularly I fail about that
And well, some pretty nice stuff is coming up in Book 2. Like, 90% of your submitted characters for example
It was, wasn't it? I'm glad to hear this, because that was what I was aiming for.
I can confirm that he even had this intention for a moment and would have likely gone through with it if Kersea wouldn't have fought back. It is not the first time he had such an urge, but usually he manages to control it. As a result of his anger, he failed to control himself this time, until Kersea caused him severe physical pain, which kind of caused him to snap back to his senses. Let's hope there won't be a next time.
AAA the good days. when people like me and supersagig made so many chars you had to slap our hands.
The times where you could count the not introduced chars.
The times where we cried for Ser Ilhan.
The times where every other post was about killing Jenna Harking
Those where indeed the days
The new part is going to be out either today or tomorrow
Usually, I'd close the voting right now, but without a voting, I think it couldn't be a bad thing just to announce it. I have made quite some progress with the writing, but there are two other things I have to take care of today, namely the birthday of my grandmother, which means I'll spend the next hours at her place until the evening, and then another thing I have to write, a character I really wish to submit for another story, which might take me another hour or two this evening. That means, you might have to wait until tomorrow for the next part. Anyways, I hope you all enjoyed the latest part
This next part is going to (finally) include the Drent POV I promised several times before. In fact, it is going to be a main focus of the next part and it will take a majority of the space. This one is almost done, although I am currently unsure about a choice. Then, I plan to include an Ilish PoV as well, which is likely going to be very short, although it'll include an important choice. The last time we saw Ilish, she and her group, currently consisting of Philip, his good friend Torold, Jarow and Taenora, who owns a large part of the fair, have arrived at the town square, where they have decided to search for Kreep, in the hopes that he is going to try and free his father. Knowing the location, Ilish realized that if he plans to look over the entire town square while staying out of sight himself, he has to hide in the stables next to the tavern, so they decided to check this building ou.
Oh yes, I occasionally miss these days
That said, I'm happy about the story coming that far already. Still, the early days had a very special charm, even if my writing was less experienced back then. There were fewer characters, things were smaller in general and I actually thought I'd be done with the story by late 2016. I can't even begin to fathom how wrong I have been XD Neither do I regret being wrong though. One thing I do not particularly miss is the vocal calls to kill Jenna, that one seems to have largely died down.
Hey guys!
I'll jump in before the next part with a new batch of illustrations. Unlike last time, there isn't really an overarching theme between these characters, except that they have all been in the story for a long time (one of them has actually even been gone for a long time already), and they have all been drawn before by foxbrg. Alright, enjoy
Once again, beautiful. You really have a talent for these. Though I hope you don't plan to draw EVERY character in Forum, that would be hellish.
Thanks, man!
And I don't really have a plan on how many of these will I do, I just do the ones that Liquid wants 
But I definitely do enjoy drawing these, and imo every character does deserve an illustration - another question is if that is realistically possible 
Well I hope you never lose your passion for making these, they are really fantastic.
Also I haven't talked to you in a while. How have you been man?
So cool! Ser Ilhan is the best one. Too bad he didn't last longer.
I'm alright, busy with studying and my own story as always, but overall everything's great, can't complain
Awesome. Simply awesome. You still manage to amaze me with every new bunch. Undoubtedly, the one I like the most here is Ilhan. Man, I regret killing him off that early, especially now that I see your awesome drawing of him, which is simply incredibly spot on. It really makes me regret that I have killed him off so early, especially as I had a second plan for him as well, which would have included him surviving for longer (although he was always planned to die in Book 1). The others are amazing as well! John is also totally amazing. I love the details, like the blood on the blade. Then there's Janae, who honestly somehow reminds me of Grumpy Cat
This is a good thing by the way, as the association is fitting. And well, I don't think I'll ever get that one out of my head again. Willfred is perfectly spot on as I have imagined him while writing and it makes me excited for the things I have planned for him. And last but not least, there is Jenna. I haven't expected it, but after thinking about it closely, I must say that she's my second favourite after Ilhan, even before John, who was the one I was looking forward for the most. I just think that you perfectly portrayed Jenna as she is right now, in the process of a healthy dose of character development, a mixture between whom she has been and whom she might be one day. As always, thank you 
Cool. I'm also studying, writing my forum story (Multiverse Prime) and having a really fun and cool PM conversation with a friend so its cool on my end too.
Drent
For just a second, Drent had to stop as he finally managed to get out of the taproom. It had been full and hot in there and the cold air came as a relief. Now all he had to do was to find Ian Shortwood, which wasn't all that easy on the unusually crowded square. Drent's eyes fell upon the gallows they had built there. Whomever it was they were planning to hang, he was getting quite the audience.
It was only by lucky chance that he managed to spot Shortwood in the crowd. The man was a hedge knight and wearing chainmail beneath his vest, holding the sheath containing his sword right in his hand, but despite this, he managed not to stick out from the crowd, which Drent considered to be an impressive feat. He wasn't running, which would have drawn more attention to him, instead he was walking fast, just enough to get away from the tavern quickly without being noted. There was no doubt that he had done this before.
Meanwhile, this was Drent's first time in which he actually tried to follow someone without being noted. Naturally, it didn't take him long until he made a mistake. Perhaps his pace was slightly too fast, perhaps he was too obviously not a local, or perhaps he was too focussed on Ian Shortwood, but people were staring at him even from a distance.
Quickly, Shortwood noticed their stares past him and he glanced over his shoulder. His eyes barely widened as he saw Drent, but he lost control over his facial features enough to make it obvious that he had noticed him. Then, he fastened his pace, which prompted Drent to do the same. This turned out to be yet another mistake. While the hedge knight was still slow enough to to draw too much suspicion, Drent started to run, in the hopes of reaching him. Suddenly, the people were not only staring at him, they were in his way. He tried to move through the crowd faster than they were able to make way for him, which ended up slowing him down. Meanwhile, Shortwood just narrowly managed to avoid the crowd.
“Watch out!”, a burly man growled, as Drent bumped right into him. Raising his hands to show that he meant no trouble, he quickly took a step past him, to which the man growled something else, which Drent no longer listened to. He slightly slowed down and just saw Shortwood stepping out of the crowd and into a small street, out of view.
By now, Drent had to hurry. Several angry glares hit him, as he used his arms to make a way through the crowd at a steady speed. Still, it took him several precious moments to get to the end of the town square. By then, he saw Ian Shortwood leaving the side street into an even smaller alleyway. Muttering a curse, Drent started to run after him.
Even before he had reached the alleyway, he heard a frustrated sigh. “Oh, fuck...”, a voice mumbled and as he turned around the corner, he saw Shortwood standing there, his back turned towards him, facing the dead end. “A damn dead end...”, the hedge knight said, before he turned around. “Just my damn luck” He narrowed his eyes. “So, what do you want?” Though his voice was calm, Drent noticed how tense the man was. He hadn't drawn his sword, but he was in a position where he could easily do it, whereas Drent faced him unarmed.
“The truth”, he answered confidently. He knew, he had to get him to talk, until Montclair and Torrence would catch up to him. “Why did you run away?” To this question, Shortwood chuckled dryly. “You're a Stormlander soldier”, he stated. “When people like you come looking for others, I know things rarely get well” He put a hand onto the hilt of his blade. “Whatever it is you think I have done, you're wrong”
“Ser Emphryus Dresfel seems to think differently”, Drent answered and Shortwood raised an eyebrow. “Ser who?”, he asked. “Forgive me, but I don't know who this man is” Drent sighed and shook his head. “Ser Emphryus is a knight in service of House Durrandon. The personal bodyguard of Princess Argella. And he claims to know you”
“He must be mistaken”, Shortwood answered without missing a beat. He was still smiling, though by now, Drent noticed a glaring crack in his confidence. “It's just my face, you know. People always get that feeling, that they know me from somewhere. Suppose I got this common look you can find anywhere. I don't know a Dresfel and never had business with such an important man”
“See, and this is where things get difficult”, Drent sighed. “Because honestly, I don't believe you. You've been defensive, running away from me and you're nervous. No innocent man behaves in such a way” To this, Shortwood sighed. “Seriously?”, he asked. “I already told you, soldiers like you never mean good things. Whatever it is, I decided to get out before things would get hairy. Is that so hard to understand?”
He had a point, Drent had to admit it, but there was something else. His nervousness was more than just a man trying to avoid danger. It was the nervousness of a guilty man who tried to hide it. He was good at hiding it, Drent had to admit that much, but most of the soldiers he had spent time with had been liars themselves. True, their own lies were harmless, but the mannerisms they showed when trying to hide it, they were the same.
“It's not hard to understand”, Drent agreed. “Which is why you came up with this argument. Hard to counter without sounding paranoid. Perhaps partially true even. But not entirely” His voice got sharper and he noticed that Shortwood gulped. “Why don't you start telling me what you're trying to hide? That's your only way out of this”
Shortwood's stance changed. Formerly tensed up, nervous even, he visibly calmed down, after he let out a long sigh. Without breaking eye contact, he raised his sword, still in its sheath. “Because there's nothing to tell”, he answered. “At least not to a grunt like you. If you'd be this... Driefel? Dresfel. If you'd be this Dresfel, I might have told you how one of your soldiers chased me, cornered me, threatened me” He smirked, not in an unfriendly way. “I'm sure he'd like that. As far as I know, your army tries to regain some trust here in the Reach. Men like you are not helping. So why don't you step aside, let me through and we all forget this incident? I don't want any trouble, you don't want any trouble”
“Then tell it”, Drent said. “Go to Ser Emphryus and tell it. While he's busy listening, he can confirm that his suspicions against you are not true... that is, if they indeed aren't true” He smiled, as Shortwood's smile grew smaller. “I'm willing to risk it. How about you? Shall we go and see who's truly in the right here?”
The hedge knight sighed. “Let me through”, he demanded again, though Drent did not make way for him. Finally, the hedge knight took a step back. He breathed out, before glancing at the sword in his hand. “Fine”, he said, as he pulled the first few inches of his sword out of the sheath, the steel shining as the last lights of the sun fell upon it.
“The other men in my group, they're on their way”, he said and his tone grew more urgent. “You can't escape. If you kill me now, your life will be over as well. There's no way they're going to let you live. But if you come with me, peacefully, then I promise, no matter what you did, I will help you as good as I can” As he spoke, he raised his hands, to show that he meant no threat.
“Help?”, Shortwood said calmly and glanced down at the steel in his hand. “That won't be necessary. See, I already helped myself” He paused, before he shrugged and with a swift movement, he put the sword back into the sheath. “And I'm not going to kill you”
For a moment, Drent lowered his hands in confusion. Shortwood used this moment to slam the pommel of his sword right into his face. Drent groaned in sudden pain, as he stumbled backwards. The side of the sheathed blade hit his forehead and stunned, he went to his knees. Cautiously, the hedge knight walked around him. Then, before Drent was able to stagger back to his feet, he rammed the pommel against the back of his head.
As he lay on the ground, trying to remain conscious, Drent clearly heard the sound of steel getting drawn and a second later, he felt the tip of the sword at his neck. “You soldiers always mean trouble”, Shortwood said and Drent heard how nervous he was. “But I don't want any of it. That's why I came here” He paused. “I want a chance to live my life in peace, away from the likes of you. A second chance”
“What...”, Drent gasped, against the thumping pain in his head. “What have you done? What are you trying to hide from?”Shortwood hesitated to answer, though finally he did, his voice slightly shivering. “I assume that your Ser Emphryus is going to tell you his side of the story. It's the only one you will believe either way”
With these words, he pulled away his sword, taking away the pressure from Drent's neck. “You can tell Emphryus that I am not here to cause trouble. If he leaves me in peace, he will not see me ever again”, the knight said in a low voice. “Consider your survival a sign of my good will. This is my new life. I have no intentions of going back to my old one” After he said this, he walked away, leaving Drent behind on the ground, as slowly, everything faded to black.
He didn't know how much time had passed, but it could have only been minutes when he heard a familiar, gruff voice. “Golton!”, Montclair called out for him, as he put a hand onto his shoulder, shaking him. “Fuck, Golton, what happened?”
Drent moaned, as he rolled onto his back, to stare at the sergeant. For a moment, he saw something resembling worry in his commanding officers face. “Shortwood knocked me out”, he groaned and put a hand onto his aching head. “How long have I been here?”
“Half an hour at most”, Montclair answered and footsteps announced the arrival of Torrence Bernile. Panting heavily, he rushed around the corner. “No one there, Sergeant”, he reported. “He vanished without a trace” As he came closer, Drent saw the purple bruise on his face. “Back with the living, huh?”, he commented.
“You look how I feel”, Drent answered, as Montclair helped him back to his feet. “Listen, I'm sorry for not coming to your aid, I...” Montclair cut him off. “You did the right thing. Chasing Shortwood gave you a chance to capture him”, he said. “Even if you failed... Have you at least managed to get any information?”
Drent gave him a nod. “It's true what Ser Emphryus knows about him”, he answered. “Ian Shortwood is not the man he claims to be” With a pained sigh, he touched the back of his head. “Although I don't think he's here to cause problems. He spared my life”
“Right, after giving you a pretty neat shiner”, Torrence remarked, as he examined Drent. Montclair meanwhile just mumbled a curse. “Ser Emphryus is going to hate this”, he said and looked up. Behind the houses in the distance, just visible above the rooftops, was the castle.
“Sergeant, I'm sorry. I fucked this one up, so I will report back to Ser Emphryus”, Drent offered. “I almost had him. Shortwood, I mean. I could have fought back, but I was careless allowed him to take me by surprise” Montclair narrowed his eyes and shook his head. “Golton, you did excellent work here. You did exactly what we had to do, you gained information about the man that calls himself Ian Shortwood”, he complimented him. “As your commanding officer, it'll be my duty to report back to Ser Emphryus. You in turn will report this to the Princess. This Shortwood is apparently opposed to our presence here, so I consider him a safety issue. Ser Emphryus will be informed, but Argella should be warned as well”
“Me?”, Drent asked. “But... wouldn't that be your privilege?” Montclair chuckled. “Trust me, Golton, I'd rather have a nice chat with Ser Emphryus than to deal with the king's daughter”, he answered and Torrence sneered. “Besides”, he interjected. “You certainly have the best connection to her, out of us three”
Montclair glared at him. “Bernile, you worked better than expected today. Don't ruin my opinion of you now”, he growled. “Although you are technically correct. I wouldn't want you anywhere near her, for your own good, while I am in the wonderful position that I can delegate that task” He gave Drent a pat on the shoulder. “See it that way, Golton. It'll be your final task for this day. It was long, stressful and I could really need a drink right now” He started to walk down the alleyway, with Drent and Torrence following. “That means, for both of you, that tonight, the first round's on me”
No Choices for this part
Ilish
It was an easy choice for her. “We're going to stay together, everything else would be just stupid and way too dangerous”, Ilish said, as she rolled her eyes and looked at the others. “Seriously, have you never heard a scary story before? Or read one?”
The only one to answer was Jarow, who gave her a wide grin. “The Lord of Bridges does not read!”, he proclaimed merrily. “He lives the life others can only dream of!” Silence followed his words, as Philip glanced to the ground, slightly embarrassed that he had to hide a smirk. Finally, it was Taenora's harsh coughing that broke the silence.
“Alright then”, she said, her voice sounding even more hoarsy than usual after the strong coughs that had shaken her body. “You're right, girl. We're not going to split up and if this Kreep is getting away, then... well, then I'm going to track him down and I'll show him what it means to threaten my daughter”
After she said this, she was the first to walk towards the building, a determinant glare in her eyes. Jarow grinned after her. “I like this woman”, he said. “Oh yes, I really like her” He gave Ilish a wink and she raised an eyebrow. “Oh, if I'd be ten years younger”, he chuckled, before he followed Taenora, with Philip, Torold and Ilish herself close by. As she looked up to the stables, she momentarily thought to see someone standing behind the open window of the building's upper floor, though as she blinked, the shadow was gone.
“We better be silent in there”, Philip remarked, as the small group made their way through the crowd. Torold shook his head, disagreeing once more. “If he's in there, he's going to hear us anyway. He's probably going to spot us, despite that blasted crowd. Though it won't make it any easier for him, that much is for sure”
At Torold's words, Ilish frowned as she once more realized how much Wolfius was probably going to enjoy his approaching death. An audience for him... she'd rather have him hanged in the dungeons, with only the executioner present. Such a public death, it was too good for him. Alexander had it worse and he was a thousand times better than Wolfius.
Shortly, her thoughts drifted towards Lawsen. She hadn't seen him much during the last few days, as he mostly slept, so that his wound might properly heal. Still, she felt a sting of regret. He had saved her life, he and Alexander both, yet one of them was dead and the other was only in marginally better shape and instead of caring for him, she was chasing a killer, as if she was some kind of hero. It was the Granver blood in her veins, as she was afraid. Her father and brother had both rather cared for themselves than others, rather played hero and at least in case of her father, it had even gotten him killed. Ilish felt bad for leaving Lawsen to recover all by himself, but she was a Granver and couldn't resist the thrill this hunt actually gave her.
“I believe Torold has a point”, Jarow remarked. “Besides, I have never been a friend of sneaking around like a woman” As he spoke, his hand moved to the hilt of his sword and he drew it in the same motion. “KREEP!”, he yelled, as he entered the stables. Philip froze, before he put a hand onto his face. “Oh, fucking hell”, he mumbled.
“Kreep!”, Jarow yelled again. “This is Jarow, the Lord of Bridges! Your end is near. Give up and I shall grant you the mercy of a quick death” He let out a disturbingly bloodthirsty mixture of a chuckle and a growl. “But if you fight me, well, then I'm ready!”
“He has surely heard that one”, Taenora stated and her voice sounded even more dry than usual. Jarow gave her an excited nod, as he almost jumped into a horsebox. “AHA!”, he yelled, as his enthusiasm quickly died down. “I see, you're not in here! But be afraid, for I will find you!”
“Why have we taken him again?”, Philip asked, his voice only barely hiding his annoyance. “Alright, we speed this one up a little bit. Hurry, people. Torold, over there. Taenora, if you could make sure that Jarow is not the first to jump into these boxes, I'd be thankful. Can't afford to scare the horses... as little as you actually have in here right now” He looked at Ilish. “And you... we two are going to check the hayloft”
“I think I've seen something up there as we approached the building”, Ilish revealed and Philip frowned. “It might have been nothing”, she quickly added to calm him down. “Or he used the opportunity to go out through the back door”, Torold added. “We should have sent two of us there”
Ilish was the first to reach the ladder. It was an old thing, but it had been sturdy enough for her in the past, so it would do. She started to climb it and Philip followed closely. “Nothing in here”, Taenora called. “Same here”, Torold answered and Ilish felt her heart beating faster with a mixture of excitement and anxiety. That was it. He had to be up there and he wouldn't stand a chance against all five of them.
Almost too late did she hear the creaking sound of the ladder. “Shit!”, she managed to exclaim, as the old ladder cracked and gave in underneath the combined weight of her and Philip. Ilish had at least half a second to prepare herself for what would come. Having almost reached the hayloft, she reached up and managed to grab the solid wooden ground of it.
Unfortunately, Philip was less lucky. He crashed down with the broken ladder and heavily crashed to the ground, where he let out a loud scream of pain. Ilish gulped, as she glanced down and noticed how deep it actually was. Philip lay on the ground, his face a grimace of pain, as he reached down for his leg.
“Philip!”, Torold yelled, as he rushed to his side. “Easy! Take it easy” He glanced down to Philip's leg, before Taenora rushed into Ilish's field of view, followed by Jarow, who was no longer grinning. “Hold on, girl”, she yelled. “We'll find something for you to climb down, just...”
She gasped, as Ilish managed to pull herself up. “What are you...?”, she asked, though Ilish cut her off. “I got this”, she assured her. “Make sure Philip's alright” She opened and closed her aching palms, which had grown heavy from the quick exhaustion caused by pulling herself up to the hayloft. It wouldn't have taken much longer and she would have been forced to let go. And considering that Philip's leg was most likely broken or damaged in some other way even though he was below her, such a fall could have had grievous consequences.
“But, what about Kreep?”, Taenora asked and Ilish glanced across the hayloft. Only a little bit of hay was kept here, but there were some large crates and, of course, the open window. She did not see Kreep, though there was still something she did not expect. “He's not here”, she said. “But... there's a dog”
There indeed was a dog, a heavy, black animal, just sitting next to a couple of large crates, calmly staring at her. It wasn't looking dangerous, even though she knew the breed. A northern hunting dog, the kind that was used to hunt deer, or even bears in larger numbers. Carefully maintained fur hinted at the dog being taken care of, but there was no trace of an owner. And even more mysteriously, how did it get up there?
[Approach the dog carefully] [Stay away from it]
Shortwood is pretty cool
I wonder what has he done in the past? Hopefully nothing too bad.
[Stay away from it] Sure, it could be just a harmless dog, but there has been too much weird shit going on lately for me to trust in that. Not necessarily with dogs, but wolves are close enough. I mean, could Kreep glamor himself to a dog? Or actually transform to one? Feels far fetched, but you never know. Or maybe the person who owns this dog was stalking up there and ran away through the back door XD Anyway, I see approaching the dog as an unnecessary risk.
[Approach the dog carefully] What if this is like Until Dawn where we can befriend the doggy woggy? Illish would totally be so much cooler if she had a dog. And if it is deadly, she can always just climb on top of a crate and get out of it's reach.
That's literally me right now:
Actually, Ted, I have one crazy idea. Forum of Thrones is so big that it's obiously far beyond Telltale fandom. I was thinking about translating this fanfic into Russian and introducing Russian ASOIAF fandom to it. I really don't know when will I do it because I barely have any time... But I already have a goal and it's good, right?
*[Stay away from it]
So as much as I want to go near this dog, which I think will attack, I probably not the best.
Shortwood is a strange man. But he seems okay?
[Approach the dog carefully] yay, let's pet the doge
[Stay away from it]
Now I'm glad we brought Jarow along.
Also I'm more eager to figure out what that shadow is all about.
This would be incredible and something I'd appreciate very, very much! If you decide to tackle such a project, you can count on me supporting you as good as I can.
This is something that woul have been revealed if John wouldn't have interrupted Torrence's attempt to break into Shortwood's room. Now, it will be revealed in a later chapter. However, at least Emphryus has been concerned enough upon seeing Shortwood that he ordered Montclair and his men to investigate, so he probably regards it as something bad.
That would be quite a twist, wouldn't it? While it sounds unlikely, it's not totally unthinkable either. I have actually, and against my original plans, thought about including another short Ilish part before this chapter ends, which should give an answer to this question.
He is indeed sort of okay. All shadiness aside, he spared Drent's life and he also saved Lucas and Leonard in the last chapter. So, he's probably not a bad guy, though there is still this thing he tries to hide, which may or may not be a bad thing.
Originally, I have imagined this dog to look like an irish wolfhound, but after reading this, it suddenly turned into a Shiba Inu in my mind and I am oddly okay with that
[Approach the dog carefully]
Well, it is the Westerosi equivalent of an irish wolfhound, which is a breed that was (as far as I know) originally bred for war, to attack men on horses and even chariots in ancient times. That means, if it is dangerous to her then she'll be dead before she gets a chance to climb on top of anything. But if she manages to befriend it, then I agree, that would be unarguably cool.
EDIT: Yay, a double post -.-
Oh yes, he helped a lot, didn't he? The mighty Lord of Bridges is surely always entertaining at the very least
This is something I originally meant to reveal in this part, though I cut it for length reasons and the fact that it was pretty late yesterday and I wanted to finish the part before going to sleep. Instead, it will be shown in another short Ilish part later in this chapter, which is also going to include the choice I originally had in mind for her.
[Approach the dog carefully]
[Approach the dog carefully]
[Approach the dog carefully]
(Stay away from it)
[Approach the dog carefully As long as Ilish approaches it carefully as it states in the option, I think this is the way to go. It does seem fishy but what's the worst it can do? (I hope I don't have to eat those words :S)
The Voting is closed!
Ilish is going to approach the dog carefully
Personally, I would have probably chosen to stay away from it, but it's kind of interesting that I have planned with the choice that actually won. In fact, if I would have had been able to make the last part longer, she would have approached the dog and I think that's more in line with Ilish's personality as well. She's certainly not afraid of a simple dog. Let's see if there's anything else she should be afraid of. Anyways, contrary to what I previously said, this part was not Ilish's final one in this chapter. There will be another one, probably equally short, paired with the finale of Drent's storyline again, which is going to happen very soon. In general, I am a bit behind my originally planned schedule for this chapter, so I will try to push the next parts out as quick as possible.
The next part is hopefully going to be out today. I have written half of it, but since it is going to be a very long part, I still have a lot of writing left to do. On top of that, I will be busy for a majority of the afternoon and evening, so I gotta pull an all-nighter again if I want to have any chance to finish this part today. But I'm excited to share this one with you and I hope you're going to enjoy it. It'll be the penultimate part of Jaron's storyline in this chapter, the first Jaron part we had in a very long time. The last time we saw him, he was brought to the labyrinth, together with Harpy and their new allies, Erik the sellsword and Lanford, top enforcer of the mysterious Hishi, who was Keira's employer. They had been captured by Samuel Harrington, who was secretly planning to defect from Butterfly after learning that he was betrayed by him and deliberately kept from finding his brother, on whom he wishes to take revenge for the killing of his family. He revealed his intentions and swiftly killed the other Solvers present, before freeing Jaron and the others. He then offered to lead them to the Burned Man, who was kept in the part of the labyrinth occupied by the Alley Cats. On their way down there, they stumbled upon a small torture room, where they met none other than Ayden Blackwell, whose whereabouts have been unknown after the Chapter 6 finale. They freed him and even though he was in a relatively bad condition, Jaron decided to take him with them as opposed to sending him back on his own or leaving him behind.
[Stay away from it]
EDIT: Just noticed the voting is closed, oh well
Haha, I probably should have left it open slightly longer. But well, I think the winning option has already been determined, given the clear majority in favour of approaching the dog. Anyways, I'm still glad to have your vote, hope you enjoyed the part
Jaron
Ayden was breathing heavily, though he put on a brave face despite his pain. Erik was supporting him, though he had to give up his shield in order to do this. Still, Jaron was convinced that this was for the better. Leaving Ayden behind, or sending him and Erik out of the labyrinth on their own, that would be a death sentence. And he could never do that to the man that had saved his life.
Right now, Jaron was walking next to Harpy and behind Samuel, who led them through the surrounding darkness. Ayden and Erik were walking behind them, while Lanford and his crossbow guarded their backs. He had long since lost every sense of orientation and without Samuel, he had to admit he would have been lost, as strange as the thought of having him as an ally still was.
“When are we going to be in the Alley Cat's territory?”, Jaron asked and Samuel didn't even look over his shoulder. “Soon”, he whispered in return, though he sighed soon afterwards and glanced at Harpy. “Listen... There's one thing you need to know before we go down there” He stopped, forcing the rest of them to do so as well.
Harpy gulped, before she looked at him. “What is it?”, she asked and Samuel sighed. “Usually, I wouldn't have brought it up, but now you brought the wounded man with you and...”, he said and cut himself off. “Let's just say, if we make even the slightest mistake down there, we will die. None of us will stand a chance”
“You already mentioned that”, Harpy answered and Samuel gave her a nod. “Yes, it's just... You do know the Burned Man is dead, don't you?”, he stated bluntly and Harpy froze in place. “What do you mean?”, she asked and though she managed to control herself well enough, Jaron heard the shivering of her voice.
Samuel didn't seem pleased with what he had to say. “I mean that there is no possible way we can find the Burned Man alive, or in any condition to survive”, he explained firmly. “The Sphynx won't let another prisoner escape from his dungeons. If he hasn't killed him yet, he has made sure that he will not escape. The only thing you can save is a corpse” His words momentarily echoed from the walls, as Harpy gulped audibly. “Why are you saying this now?”, she asked tonelessly.
“Because I want you to know that you're going to waste your life for a man that is already dead”, Samuel answered and through his harshness, Jaron saw something that resembled concern. “And not only yours. Mine as well and your knight's and Lanford's and those of your sellswords. You're going to risk them for a dead man. Is your Burned Man worth that much to you”
Now, Harpy took a step forwards and the glare in her eyes was sharp as steel. “That much and more”, she stated decidedly. Samuel was silent for a moment, just staring into her eyes, before he gave her a short nod. “It won't matter to me, because I'm going down there with you no matter what”, he finally said. “But I suppose the others should get a say in this as well. If they die down there, so will you and me”
Jaron quickly walked up next to Harpy. “There is nothing to discuss from my side”, he replied and gave her a weak smile. “I won't leave you alone now” This calmed her down visibly and she nodded, before she glanced over her shoulder, at Ayden, Erik and Lanford.
Ayden was the first to speak. “You saved my life”, he said, his voice still weak, though he regained his former strength with every passing second. “I was ready to die down here, knowing that Taria is safe. Perhaps I still am... though I'd prefer to live” Erik chuckled at these words. “And I'm just here to get paid. I ain't afraid of some kitties”, he added. “But if we meet the Tom, then I call dibs on his sword. They don't make them that way here in Westeros”
Finally, Lanford sighed. “I knew what I'd get into when I agreed to help you”, he said. “You know what they say about the enemy of my enemy” He glanced from Samuel to Jaron, before resting his eyes on Harpy. “And I'll be fucked if I ever leave a friend in need”
With the hint of a smile on her face, Harpy turned back to Samuel. “Was that all?”, she asked. “We have to get down there and we have to save the Burned Man” Though Samuel gave her a nod, it was Jaron who tensed up and put a hand onto her shoulder. He would stand by her side through this, but still... there was one thing he had to know, one thing that concerned him. “Harpy”, he said softly, as he momentarily massaged her shoulder with one hand. “Can we talk for a moment?”
Harpy looked at him for a moment, before she exchanged a glance with Samuel, who gave her a nod. He pointed at a door, slightly in front of them to their right, before he walked up to it, opened it and glanced through. Then, he turned around and gave them a sign to enter. With a look of concern, Harpy walked next to Jaron into the room.
Thankfully, it was not a torture chamber, as Jaron had feared initially. To be fair, it could easily serve as one, because it held all the tools Butterfly's men needed to spread pain. It was an armoury, holding dozens of swords, knives and crude tools Jaron didn't even want to look at any closer. He closed the door, leaving only the light of the small torch Harpy was holding.
“So...”, she sighed. “What is this all about?” Jaron clenched his teeth. “It's about what you said”, he answered. “Listen, you know I will support you through this, but it has grown to the point where I can't just ignore it” Gently, he put his good hand onto her shoulder and felt how she relaxed under his touch. “You just said you'd be willing to sacrifice anything to safe the Burned Man”
She avoided to look him in the eye as she answered. “That does not include you”, she said softly. “I am willing to sacrifice everything that's mine to safe him” She looked up and finally back at him. “Not you, never you. Not anyone and I won't demand their help”
“Yes, I know”, Jaron said quickly, before his gaze got stern, more worried. “But you. You just did it again. Told me you're willing to sacrifice everything that's yours to safe him” He felt a lump in his throat as he continued to speak. “Why are you so willing to waste your life for him?”
Now, a pained expression appeared on Harpy's face. She pulled away from him and for a moment, he thought she'd even turn around. She sighed and it seemed as if she would shrink under his gaze, clearly uncomfortable and barely daring to look at him. When she spoke, he heard the shivering of her voice. “Because he is my fault”, she revealed, her words barely audible, though as she said them, it looked as if she'd been relieved of a great burden.
Jaron furrowed his brows as he thought of her words. “You can't mean that”, he answered softly. “What happened that night, his capture, there was nothing you could have done to prevent it” He noticed how she tried to maintain her composure and he quickly took a step towards her to comfort her. “What happened is not your fault”
She glanced at him, before she shook her head. “This is not what I meant”, she said, not without sharpness. “Not at all... even though you're wrong with that as well. I could have prevented his capture. All I had to do would have been to spare Mullendore's pawn back in that warehouse” Momentarily, anger flared up in her eyes, though it wasn't directed at Jaron. “I was furious”, she hissed. “I was hurt and scared and furious... I did a mistake and the people I love the most had to pay for it”
Silence followed to her last statement, as Jaron knew how she felt. She blamed herself, just as he blamed himself for what happened back then. Neither of them were able to change it, but he hoped, prayed, that they would both have the strength to live with it. “But that's not all”, she whispered and the anger in her voice was gone in an instant.
Jaron gave her a curious look. “What do you mean?”, he asked and she looked back at him. “I am not only at fault for his current capture, I am at fault for his existence”, she explained. “The Burned Man. He is my fault. This is the reason why I have to save him”
“Your... fault?”, Jaron asked. “I... forgive me, I don't understa-” She cut him off. “Yes, you don't understand and that's always your fucking problem!”, she barked, in a momentary outburst of anger, though she immediately opened her eyes in shock, as she gave him an apologetic look. “I... sorry. This is...”
She sighed bitterly. “I am angry and I lose control of the situation and of everything and I'm helpless to stop it... and... and this is the worst apology ever and I'm sorry”, she said. “Sorry for being that way and for dragging you into all of this and for not giving you even nearly as much as I demand, I...”
This time, he cut her off, by pulling her into a strong hug. She gasped in surprise and for just a second, he enjoyed feeling her close, the warmth of her boy, the quick, short raising of her chest. “You do not demand a thing from me. You can't demand what you already have”, he said warmly. “And you have given me more than any living person in this world ever has”
Harpy's expression changed. From confused, scared and helpless with a hint of anger, she visibly relaxed, a small, but genuine smile forming on her face. Since Jaron was wearing heavy boots that made him even taller than he already was, she had to stand on the tip of her toes to comfortably kiss him. What was planned to be a fleeting kiss on the cheek ended up as a passionate kiss on the lips.
It did not last even nearly as long as Jaron had hoped. Just two or three second later, she pulled back and put her head onto his shoulder. He smiled at her. “Yesterday, in the alleyway... you told me you love me”, he said and she looked up. “I... I didn't even realize it at first. So much happened, I could barely focus and yet... Yet it was the only thing I was able to think of as I rushed through the streets, I panicked because I didn't know what happened to you. And I was afraid that I'd never get the chance to say it to you as well. I hoped to wait for better days, for a better place, but that's not what matters now” He softly reached for a strand of her hair. “I love you”, he said.
For a second, Jaron saw a mixture of emotions on her face. Pain was replaced by joy, sorrow fought with relief and lost. Then, all of it got replace by a wide grin, with which she just barely failed to hide her true feelings. “This is...”, she said and chuckled, as she glanced around the armoury, momentarily resting her eyes on a set of sharp pikes, before focussing back on him. “This is the most horrible place to ever say such a thing”
Jaron reciprocated her smile, as he realized how outlandish his words must be in such a place, in such a situation. “Oh, and a rain-soaked alleyway, surrounded by Mullendore's men, is such a better place?”, he teased her gently and her chuckle turned into a short laughter. “No, it's just as bad”, she admitted. “All of this city is a weird, messed-up place to confess to anything so sweet”
“It kinda fits us”, Jaron answered. “Aren't we ever?” Harpy smirked, though he saw a rest of the sadness that haunted her behind her dark eyes. “Aren't we always?”, she answered. They remained in a close hug for a second, before Jaron gained the strength to end this moment.
“There's this other thing you said”, he whispered. “You told me I wouldn't understand” Harpy bit her lip in sheepish guilt. “Listen, I was...”, she started, though Jaron cut her off. “No”, he said. “No, you were right. I do not understand. But I want to. Explain it to me if you can... and if... if this is not too personal”
Harpy sighed and her joy was gone. “With anyone else, I'd avoid the topic”, she admitted. “But I don't want to keep it a secret, not from you” She hesitated for a moment, as she tried to gain the strength to speak. “When I told you that he is my fault, I meant that literally”, she revealed. “It is my fault that he is the way he is. That he became the Burned Man in the first place”
Jaron narrowed his eyes as he realized what she meant. “You mean...”, he gasped and she gave him a nod. “You know I was born into slavery, into the household of the same man that owned the Burned Man”, she explained. “This man was Master Razdal zo Yunzak, the Ever-Benevolent, the richest man in Yunkai” Her voice turned almost spiteful as she spoke this name. “The cruellest man in Yunkai. I was born into his service, the Burned Man was bought by him from a group of Lorathi debt collectors, but we were in the same situation”
“So, the Burned Man comes from Lorath?”, Jaron asked and she nodded slightly. “Before he became the Burned Man, he was known as Arkan Gorys, a rich merchant from Lorath, with a talent for business and an addiction for gambling”, she spoke. “One day, he was unable to pay his debts to a group of very petty and vengeful men. They killed his family, his wife, his daughter...” She sighed. “I believe he saw a lot of her in me”, she whispered. “And they beat him almost to death, dragged him to Yunkai and sold him to the cruellest man they could find. From that day, no one ever dared not to pay them”
Once more she had to pause. “Arkan was the first person to show me kindness. More than that, he looked out for me. He cared for me and for the longest time, he was the only person in the world to do so”, she whispered and her voice shivered. “And he saved me. He saved my life when I fucked up, or else I would have become what he is today”
Jaron's eyes widened as he heard this. “You mean...”, he stuttered and she gave him a nod. “I mean that there would have been a Burned Woman. Or more likely, no one at all, because had I been in his place, I would have died”, she snarled. “It was supposed to be a simple task. Me and Arkan, we worked in Master Razdal's fighting pit. I had small hands and Arkan had skilled fingers, so we had to help the fighters into their armour”
As she spoke, Jaron remembered how she had helped him into his armour, back when they prepared to attack Butterfly at the warehouse. It had been such a small comment, so innocent back then. “One day, we had to tend to Master Razdal's son, Yezzak, who was fighting to test his skill, just for fun”, Harpy explained and she sighed. “I did not know him well, but he had a friendly smile. He made a joke, I had to laugh and I fucked up. I failed to properly strap down his helmet”
Jaron gulped, as he knew what would come. “Of course it slipped out of place in the fight, covered his eyes, as he stumbled right into his opponents strike. What was planned to be a light tap to his shoulder ended up cutting his throat”, Harpy whispered, as her gaze hardened. “The man who killed him chose the easy way out and died fighting the guards. Arkan did not get so lucky” She hesitated and as she spoke the following words, she was barely able to keep her cool. “He put the blame onto himself”, she gasped. “He had tended to Yezzak's opponent, but he still claimed that things were different. That he had helped Yezzak into his armour, that it had been his fault. And he did all of this even though he knew what Master Razdal would do to him”
“How... how old have you been?”, Jaron asked and Harpy gulped. “Five”, she answered. Now, Jaron clenched his fists. “Surely... surely this Razdal wouldn't have punished a five-year old. Not... not like he punished the Burned Man” Harpy shortly glared at him. “You don't know Master Razdal”, she said bitterly. “He would have done worse, because that's the kind of man he is. And Arkan saved me, because that's the kind of man he was”
“Harpy...”, Jaron mumbled and Harpy shook her head. “After Master Razdal mutilated him, it was my position to look after him. I was young, but even then I understood that I could never repay him. That for the rest of my life, I had to try to save what was left of his life”, she explained. “They tossed him out to die, denying him even a clean death. I sneaked out of Razdal's mansion, I dragged Arkan to the docks, I gave whatever coin I was able to steal to get him out of Yunkai”
Once more, she took a short pause, to breathe deeply. “He always promised me to show me Lorath, to live the life they took from him, the life I never had. Instead, we stranded here and he got deeper and deeper involved in all of this, thought he could change something, thought that he could help and do good”, she mumbled and shivered softly. “Instead, Arkan Gorys became the Burned Man”
Her determined glare hit Jaron by surprise. “Do you understand now why I look out for him so much?”, she asked sharply. “Do you understand what kind of a man he truly was? Do you understand why I have to save him, no matter the cost? Do you understand, Jaron?”
He gulped and blinked away the tears in his eyes. “I understand”, he said, as he pulled her close. It was a warm, comforting hug for her and he knew, she needed it as much as he did. He put a hand onto her shoulder and sternly looked at her, his determination matching her own. “Come on then. Let us save the Burned Man”, he told her. She looked up and a hopeful smile formed on her face.
Hand in hand, they left the room again. Erik raised an eyebrow as he saw them. “My, my... what were you two doing in there?”, he asked with a cocky grin. Harpy glared at him. “Nothing you could ever do, Inchfield”, she barked and Ayden, sitting on the ground, chuckled at her words. “She got you there, you asshole”, he answered. “Now come on, help me up. I think we'll continue”
A few feet away, Samuel and Lanford were talking quietly. It was Lanford who noticed them first, he looked up and gave them a sign to come closer. “So, me and Fang here discussed our next step in the Alley Cats' lair”, he explained. Samuel nodded slightly. “I think I know where they have brought your Burned Man”, he revealed. “The Sphynx, Butterfly's master torturer, he has private chambers down there and I'm sure he took the chance to get his hands on the Burned Man. Considering Mullendore's condition, I doubt he was able to object”
Harpy tensed up, though she bravely looked him in the eyes. “That's at least a direction. Can you find the way?”, she asked and Samuel gave him a nod. “Easily”, he answered. “I've been there often enough” Then, he looked at Lanford, who cleared his throat. “There's more. Safety measures, if you want to call them that way”, the older man answered. “First of all, we won't bring our torches. Down there, we fare better if they don't see us coming from a mile away. There will be a bit of light there, so we won't get lost. At best, we'll be able to see them, while they won't be able to see us”
Without hesitating, Harpy dropped her torch and it almost immediately burned out as it reached the ground. “Got it. Anything else we have to look out for down there?”, she asked. Samuel, holding the last torch they had, gave her a quick nod. “Most of the cats are currently out in the streets, killing everyone working for the Burned Man, at least everyone they can find”, he explained. “If we remain silent, it is unlikely we will run into any of them, but as I said, if they spot us, if even one of them manages to make a noise before he dies...”
“We're dead, yes”, Harpy said. “I don't force you down there, I already made myself clear on this” She breathed out and in Jaron's eyes, she seemed stronger, more confident with him by her side. “But we will not die down there. We can't”, she stated with such a dedication that even Samuel could only agree with her. “Let's hope you're right”, he said, as he dropped his torch.
Immediately, darkness surrounded them, with only the distant, sparsely used torches spending enough light for them to find their way and to make out the silhouettes of each other. The only ones Jaron was able to see clearly were Samuel in front of him and Harpy right next to him, though he also heard Ayden's heavy panting, as he dragged himself forward and Lanford's slightly nervous breathing.
“Right”, Samuel whispered and as Jaron moved his head, he saw a tunnel, like a gaping hole in the darkness, a pit befitting to the path that would lead them to the Alley Cats. The Tom would be down there, the man who murdered Martin and Keira. He'd be accompanied by countless of his men, enough to make even Samuel Harrington feel uneasy. And maybe, just maybe, they'd find the Burned Man.
Silently, they all turned to this tunnel and entered it. Jaron had expected things to feel different, now that they approached a place Samuel had described as the lair of all evil in this city, but truth be told, nothing changed. The air was still chilly and stale, the eerily damp walls were still just as off-putting as they were in the rest of the labyrinth and he heard nothing but the faint sound of their footsteps. He didn't even feel watched, which came as a relief. It wasn't even entirely pitch black, as very distant torches spend enough light to make out the shapes around him.
The next minutes, maybe even the next hour, passed quickly. The only one speaking was Samuel and even then, he'd only tell them when to turn left or right. His sense of direction down here was as admirable as it was unsettling, but as weird as it sounded, Jaron trusted him. He only hoped that this wouldn't turn out to be a terrible mistake.
Not even once did they see an Alley Cat. Once, Samuel held them back, while several dozen feet in front of them, two masked men passed through a crossing tunnel. This was the only thing that told Jaron that they truly were in their domain. Aside from that, nothing was different from the huge, empty labyrinth they passed through before. Still, there was a looming sense of dread that threatened to get a hold of him, the feeling that the worst was yet to come.
Through the darkness, he barely saw the shape of Harpy walking right next to him, though from the way she had still grabbed his hand, he knew that she felt even worse. After what she had told him, he could understand it. At the same time, he was more afraid than ever what this would do to her. What Samuel said, it made sense. Even if they would be able to reach him, it seemed unlikely the Burned Man would be able to leave the labyrinth ever again. He had no idea how Harpy would react, but he was afraid for her, so afraid.
Finally, Jaron saw a light in the distance. By now, he was clearly able to see Samuel's shape against this light, as he raised his hand and ordered them to stop. The sellsword leaned closer. “It should be down there. Wait for a second, I'll check it out”, he murmured in a quiet tone. Harpy squeezed Jaron's hand, as they watched Samuel approaching the light. He had a hand on his sword and even though Jaron did his best to listen, he heard not even the faintest sound of footsteps. Slowly, Samuel glanced into the room. Then, he turned around and raised his hand again, giving them a sign to follow.
A sigh of relief came out of Harpy's throat and only Jaron holding her back prevented her from rushing towards the room in a hurry. Instead, they both approached it together, at a slow, but steady pace. Behind them, Erik helped Ayden to walk closer, while Lanford still guarded their backs, noticeably louder than Samuel, even though he tried his best not to make any unnecessary noise either.
The room was large and compared to the rest of the labyrinth, it was brightly illuminated, even if it was still relatively dimly lit. Two long tables and rows of benches clued Jaron in that this was some kind of a meeting room. There were several large crates as well, as high as a grown man, and one of them stood open, revealing that it contained sturdy leather armour. Two other tunnels to their left and right led deeper into the labyrinth. And on the other side, across the tunnel they entered the room through, Jaron saw a large, wooden door, opened just a gap. Behind it, Jaron saw the flickering of a torch.
“Baa, baa, black sheep, have you any wool?”, a calm, almost serene voice hissed in a spine chilling tone, almost as if he was singing. This sentence was followed by a loud, shrill scream of pain. Harpy froze in obvious terror and even Jaron recognized the voice. It was Samuel who stopped her and likely saved her life, as she rushed right into his arms, pressing a hand onto her mouth, as he wrapped his other arm around her so strongly that she was unable to move. Jaron knew why he did it. He heard the footsteps as well, coming from the tunnel to their right.
Quickly, Lanford pointed at a space between the boxes and the wall of the room, presenting enough space that they could hide behind it. He and Erik worked together to carry Ayden behind it as fast as possible, while Samuel and Jaron dragged Harpy towards it. She went with them almost willingly, though silent tears streamed down her face, as she heavily bit down onto her lip to prevent herself from crying.
“Yes merry, have I, three bags full”, the cold voice sounded again, followed by another set of screams. Whatever happened to the Burned Man in there, it was painful. In all his life, Jaron had never heard a human being scream like this. Not even dying soldiers, trying to hold their guts in their belly, were able to scream in such pain. But he was still alive. He was still alive and that had to be worth something, right?
They lay on the ground behind the boxes, as there wasn't enough space for them to crouch without being seen. Even then, they had to huddle together. Harpy was lying half on top of Jaron, her face covered in his chest, while Lanford's leg was almost pushing against his broken arm. He was unable to see who entered the room, but it was only a single person for sure. Samuel, who was lying the closest to the room, dared to glance out of their hiding, before immediately pulling back, his eyes widened in something that almost resembled fear.
“One for my master, one for my dame”, the cold voice sounded again, before simultaneous sounds of screaming and someone knocking on the door interrupted him. The man's annoyed sigh was audible as well. “One for the little boy that lives down the lane!”, he yelled loudly and the screams of pain went to agonising heights.
“Sphynx, I must talk to you!”, the melodic voice of the Tom sounded and now, Jaron froze in fear as well as he realized who was standing there, just a few feet away, only separated by the crates. He remembered the cold look in the masked man's catlike eyes, as he had effortlessly fought against him and Martin.
“Erik!”, the cold voice, apparently the voice of the Sphynx, sounded, as the door got opened with a loud creak. “Didn't know it was you. Is there anything the matter?” Silence followed, before the Tom answered with obvious disdain. “Erik?”, he asked. “Are we on first-name basis now, Rodrik?”
The Sphynx chuckled in a monotone way. “Point taken, Tom”, he answered. “Connor, collect the cripple's skin! Bring it to my room, I'll find some use for it later” The sound of someone rising from a chair sounded. “Yes, Sphynx”, a youthful voice answered and underneath all of this, Jaron heard terrible sobs of pain. By now, Harpy's tears were flowing down his chest, though she remarkably managed to remain silent.
“What do you wish, Tom?”, the Sphynx asked and the Tom sighed. “I think I need your assistance again”, he answered and his voice gained a bitter streak. “It's the face again. I need your ointments. Wilshere gave me a couple of nasty blows in our fight”
“You underestimated him”, the Sphynx answered and the Tom hissed sharply. “I ran him through and he still had the strength to deliver a blow”, he protested and the Sphynx chuckled. “You killed his lady love”, he said and Jaron was almost able to hear his grin. “He had a lot of fight in him. Admirable. And you underestimated him. All of them”
“Butterfly did”, the Tom growled. “I urged him to use archers, but his arrogance nearly got him killed” He sighed. “This was the other thing I wanted to speak about. How is he?” The Sphynx whistled shortly. “Is that concern I hear in your voice?”, he asked. “Of course it is”, the Tom answered. “If he's going to die, who will pay us?”
“Who indeed”, the Sphynx remarked calmly. “But to answer your question, Maron is still not in a good condition. He's conscious and he's angry. I stopped the bleeding, treated his leg, seared the wound on his side shut and I even managed to save his eye, even though I couldn't save his vision” Now, the Tom chuckled, melodic, but joyless. “He'll have to live with one”, he answered. “The bitch fucked him up badly” To Jaron's horror, the masked man's voice sounded closer now, as if he had walked towards the crates they were hiding behind.
“That she did”, the Sphynx agreed. “You underestimated her as well. She's better than you thought” The Tom's displeasure was audible in his sharp breaths. “She's not any good. Not even particularly smart”, he growled and by now, he had to stand at the other side of the boxes. “She just... got lucky” A shiver of relief went through Jaron, as the Tom walked away from the boxes again. “And her luck can't remain forever. Although she's not top priority, so she might just survive”
“Ah, yes”, the Sphynx said. “This is something I wanted to talk about with you. Your priorities, your... plans. They... forgive me, Tom, but they are not what I would advice” The Tom's chuckle showed a hint of amusement. “And what would you advice?”, he asked.
“For starters, allow me to kill Maron”, the Sphynx answered immediately. “Most of the men, me included, expected you to kill him the moment he was at our mercy. The Burned Man's organization is as crippled as his body. Jaylon is dead and Harrington never wanted to lead. Who is left to lead, but you? Whom else could they bow to? The city is yours for the taking”
The Tom was silent for a moment. “And then what?”, he asked. “The Burned Man is gone. No matter what happens, Butterfly will follow, even if Maron Mullendore might just survive. They made a mistake I won't repeat. They had no one above them”
“You make it sound as if it would be a bad thing”, the Sphynx interjected. “It is a bad thing”, the Tom answered. “Now, I am just one of many. That way, I avoid becoming a target. What do you think happens if suddenly I become the one in charge? How long do you think I would last? We never thought Butterfly would ever fall, but all it took was one bitch who couldn't shut her mouth and now the street's full with rumour about Maron Mullendore and his secret”
“A rumour without evidence”, the Sphynx countered. The Tom sighed. “A rumour doesn't need evidence to be a weapon”, he answered. “Butterfly's reign over this city is over and with him, we lost our place here. All we can do is to leave with Maron when he rides north”
The Sphynx did not answer immediately. “So, you will stick to the plan?”, he asked. “Naturally”, the Tom answered. “Now more than ever. I have just received two ravens. One came from the king an he informed us that we must ride soon if we wish to reach Raylansfair in time”
“The king”, the Sphynx scoffed. “Maron puts too much faith into the guy” The Tom ignored his comment. “The second raven came from Petyr. He has gathered his men and ordered Ser Hugo Farnham to lead them. He himself will join them on the road north, hopefully with additional support from our men”
“Support you will grant him?”, the Sphynx asked. “If you manage to prepare Maron in time”, the Tom answered. “We need him in Raylansfair. If Petyr leads the army, then we'll be nothing but freaks to him. Maron meanwhile, he owes us his life. Because of that, you must get him ready for the journey”
The Sphynx sighed in defeat. “Fine”, he barked. “I am not a sorcerer, but I should be good enough for that. Gather the men, he will be ready, although he won't be in best shape” He paused for a second. “Even though I still don't understand why you do this” The Tom chuckled. “See, this is the problem with you. Lupin understood these things”, he answered.
“Lupin is insane”, the Sphynx answered. “He is”, the Tom confirmed. “And if I ever see him again, I'm going to cut his heart out and feed it to the crows” The Sphynx moved slightly. “So, I will concentrate on Maron then from now on. Shall I kill the cripple?”, he asked “Not yet”, the Tom answered. “Let him hang for a little longer, let him wriggle in pain. I will deal with him myself later on. First, I require ointment, that pain is killing me”
To Jaron's relief, the two men started to walk, through the room and into one of the tunnels. “How's the Moggy, by the way?”, the Tom answered. Now, it was up to the Sphynx to laugh. “He cried like a baby when I stitched his arm back together”, he said, as his voice got less audible with every step they distanced themselves from the room. “He's strong, better than any other Moggy we ever had. Give him until Raylansfair and he'll be able to crush skulls again”
And then, there was only silence. Harpy looked at Jaron, her eyes filled with tears and fear. Then, she jumped up and rushed past Samuel, towards the room. Jaron was barely able to keep up with her. He didn't need to. Even from afar, he saw that she stumbled into the room and onto her knees, hiding her face in her hands as she laid eyes on the gruesome sight that awaited her.
The Burned Man was indeed in the room, completely naked. They had driven large hooks through his ribs, two on each side, and they had attached chains to them, which effectively hung him above the ground, constantly applying pressure onto his damaged bones. One of his hands was missing, the one they had left in his mansion as a warning, while the other one was twisted and severely broken. The worst of it all was his chest and Jaron gasped as he realized that they had partially flayed him. The entire area was covered in small, gaping wounds, where the Sphynx had removed the topmost layer of flesh. Through a particularly gruesome wound, Jaron was able to see the sternum beneath torn strands of flesh.
The Burned Man raised his bruised head and through swollen eyes, he spotted Harpy. “You... came...”, he gasped, even these few words causing him to shiver with pain. By now, Harpy was crying uncontrollably. “Of course I did”, she answered softly. “I'm going to save you”
“You always... did”, the Burned Man managed to press through clenched teeth and Harpy shot a glare into Samuel's direction, who was standing the closest to a lever, that was built into the wall next to a table that contained all kinds of blood-stained tools. “Get him down there”, she hissed.
Before he did this, Samuel gave Lanford a nod. The older man turned around and walked back into the main room, where Ayden and Erik were still located. He closed the door behind him. “That should give you more privacy”, Samuel explained. “The Sphynx' torture chambers are designed not to let any sound out of it” Then, he walked towards the lever and pulled it, releasing the chains. Wisely, Harpy had rushed forwards, to catch the Burned Man before he could fall and to gently lay him onto the ground.
Now freed from the horrific and humiliating device, the Burned Man's expression grew visibly less pained. He took a deep breath, though he still shivered at the hooks attached to his ribs. “Thank you”, he mumbled and looked at Jaron. “All of you”
A small, hopeful smile formed on Harpy's face, as she cradled the Burned Man in her arms. “We can do this”, she said. “We can get you out of here. Come, let's see how we get these hooks out of you. This is going to...” The Burned Man's eyes widened and he almost bit through his tongue in the barely successful attempt to prevent a scream, as Harpy tried to remove the hook.
Jaron shivered in discomfort as he saw the tiny part of the hook she did indeed remove. “Barbs”, he answered. “It's a barbed hook. Pull it out and you kill him” Harpy threw him an alarmed glare. “But... but the chains! If we don't get these hooks out of him, we can't... we can't...”
Too soft for a man in so much pain, the Burned Man touched her cheek, using his broken hand nonetheless. “Exactly”, he said. “The Sphynx made sure that I... will never leave this room again” By now, he was crying as well and Jaron felt a lump in his throat as well. Even Samuel was obviously in discomfort, as he quietly watched the scene.
“No...”, Harpy gasped, as she realized what this would mean. “No! No, this is not how it's supposed to be! I... We came here to save you!” The Burned Man managed to smile at her. “You always did”, he softly answered. “And I... not a day passed where I haven't thanked the gods for you. I have to ask your forgiveness”
Even wailing in sorrow, Harpy managed to throw a confused look at him. “Forgiveness?”, she asked. “You... what for? You saved my life. Without you, I would have been nothing” The Burned Man shook his head and the action alone caused him to groan in pain. “Without me, you could have been everything”, he answered. “I see clearer now. How I held you back” He sighed and his body shivered in agony.
“You never did”, Harpy insisted gently and kissed his forehead. She said a few words in Ghiscari and Jaron was surprised how soft they sounded, despite their guttural origins. A pained expression flashed across the Burned Man's face. “And now it is time for you to continue without me”, he answered in the Common Tongue. “My path is at an end. It was meant to end a long time ago, but you saved me. You saved me every day of my life”
“I will save you now”, Harpy declared and he gave her a nod. “I know you will try. I love you for it”, he gasped. “And it pains me that I have to leave you” With these words, his head slowly sunk back onto the cold, black ground and only from the steady, yet pained raising of his chest, Jaron saw that he was still alive.
Harpy threw an alarmed glance at Jaron. “Help me! He's... you see how he is! We have to get him out of here, please!” Jaron looked at the hooks and shook his head in defeat. “We can't”, he answered, barely able to look at her in her pain. “They made sure of that”
“There might be one thing we could do”, Samuel remarked and Harpy narrowed her eyes, as she realized what he meant. She looked at the hooks, at the chains and at the Burned Man's condition, before her mouth slightly opened in sudden shock. Jaron could see the thoughts flashing through her mind, he could feel her despair. Staring dead-eyes towards the opposing wall, her hand moved down to the dagger on her belt. “You... no... no, you are right, aren't you?”, she mumbled tonelessly, while bitter tears continued to pour down her face. “We can't take him, we can't leave him. We can only save him. I... I can do this”
Pain flashed across Jaron's face, as he reached for her wrist. “Harpy”, he mumbled and she threw him another helpless look. “I can do this”, she said with an empty, cracking voice. Behind her, Samuel watched the scene, a hand on the hilt of his sword. The Burned Man on the ground, he did not say anything and from the way his eyes moved, Jaron wasn't even sure if he was still conscious. “I can do this”, Harpy lied again.
[Mercy Kill the Burned Man] [Let Harpy do it] [Ask Samuel to do it]
[Mercy Kill the Burned Man]
I think its important that that Jaron does this. However 100% I do not want Harpy to do it. So to make certain this does not happen I switch my vote to [Ask Samuel to do it] if it is in the majority of either of the two.