The plains of Jogos Nhai stretched far and wide, with the Howling Hills and White Mountains in the west, the Leviathan Sound and Thousand Islands in the north, Yi Ti to the south and the Kingdom of N’Ghai to the east. They were camped by the Blue Sea, an inland sea just east of the Great Dawn Sea, and uncomfortably close to Tiqui.
Nithral Raeltheon sat by the water’s edge, a stern look on his light brown eyes as he stared into his wavering reflection. He was rugged, that much was certain, and certainly not familiar to the shepherd boy that had left the Valyrian plains all those years ago in search of glory and chivalry. Nor was he that, or much of anything at all.
The reflection wore his hair long and unruly, which was once light brown, but now weathered and unwashed, the grime and dust and turned his hair darker. It was coarse and knotted, and just reached his shoulders. His beard was of a similar situation, being coarse and dirty, but fortunately not as long as his hair length.
As for Nithral’s attire, he wore a grey quilted jacket, with a half-sleeved piece of dark grey gambeson over this, and a final piece of reinforced iron chainmail on top of this. Small iron knives and tools glinted off his leather strap that ran down his shoulder to his waist, predominant with his second sword, a gift from the Jogos Nhai, and a tusk horn.
Nithral frowned at his appearance, running his hand across the water’s surface, distorting the image. The cool water was a blessing in the heat of the green plains, and Nithral cupped his hands in the water, splashing his face to wash away the grime and muck that had gathered on him like soot. Wiping his hands on his trousers, he stood himself up, turning his gaze back to the Jogos Nhai camp.
“At least a hundred reside in this camp, all heading for war with Hyrkoon,” Nithral thought aloud to himself, listening to his Valyrian accent. Sometimes he just had to, as odd as it seemed, being surrounded with so many foreign cultures made a man forget his own, but Valyrian’s had a tongue of beauty, and one that Nithral did not wish to lose.
“War we win,” a confident tone sounded from beside him, catching the hunter off guard for a moment. Nithral’s hand instinctively hovered over the hilt of his first blade, a finely forged Andal longsword, a gift from a man he considered as a father: Ser Loren Nightstar. That was a long time ago, Nithral thought nostalgically, moving his hand back to his side as he recognised the young and unique Jogos Nhai tribesman.
Damien Dardowl, Nithral observed, not that it was a difficult pick. Damien, unlike the rest of the Jogos Nhai, was the only one in the tribe to not have the traditional pointed head from years of bindings at birth. Instead, Damien had a regular head, with long hair that reached his shoulders, and a face that was cleanly shaven. “Damien,” Nithral mumbled, forcing a smile onto his lips. The tribesman nodded in turn, crossing his arms and looking into the water.
“Bothering you?” Damien asked bluntly, his common tongue rough and foreign, but Nithral understood him well enough, and shook his head. “No, I was just enjoying the water before we head off,” Nithral informed him, to which Damien gave him a firm nod. “You fight with us?” the man asked, but Nithral just sighed and shook his head.
“We’re not warriors, Damien, we’re hunters. War is not our play,” Nithral stated, placing a hand on the warrior’s shoulder, but the man just shrugged it off. “Nightstar tell me of warrior time, say you were warriors of faraway king,” Damien argued, turning his gaze away from the Valyrian, causing him to frown.
“We were knights, yes, but then we were exiled. We are outcasts now, men who do work for coin. Fight for coin,” Nithral explained, but Damien just shook his head, keeping his gaze lowered. “No honour,” he muttered, a disappointed and sulky look on his eyes. Nithral bit his tongue, holding back from arguing with the man. He had been a knight once, taken the ancient vows and pledged his service to his king, but that had all been stripped away from him; his titles, his armour, his honour. He still held the morals of a knight close to his heart, but they were in foreign lands now, lands which cared little for those with honour, and men from the west had to adapt to survive. Nithral was not proud of the things they had done in order to assure they awoke the next morning.
“Where is Vesemir?” Nithral asked, steering the conversation elsewhere. Damien sighed, uncrossing his arms and turning to walk away. “Zorse,” he muttered in reply, heading back to the camp. “Jhat want to speak to you,” Damien added, leading the way. Nithral let out a sigh, running a hand through his thick hair, before following after Damien.
The pointed skulled people looked at Nithral with cautious eyes. Both Nithral and Vesemir were their guests, under their jhat’s orders, but they had no love for foreigners. The Jogos Nhai had warred with their neighbouring people for years, and the presence of a Valyrian and an Andal made no difference to this, especially looking vaguely similar to the Hyrkooni. However the respect the Jogos Nhai had for their jhat was commendable, and in favour for the travelling demon hunters.
“Nithral!” a familiar voice called, and the Valyrian turned to meet the pale blue eyes of his close friend and partner in crime. Nithral grinned, extending his arm to Vesemir as he approached, who grasped his forearm. “You ready to go?” Vesemir asked, and Nithral sighed, shaking his head. “Apparently Jhat Ugnak has summoned me in his tent, I’m just following Damien there now,” Nithral informed him, causing Vesemir to frown, and the two started to walk.
“No doubt he wants us to stay and fight for him,” Vesemir grumbled, scratching at his beard. Nithral shrugged, focusing on Damien ahead. “Is that such a bad thing?” Nithral asked nonchalantly, and for a moment Vesemir just chuckled, until realising that Nithral was being serious. “Nithral… They’re warmongers, they fight for no reason other than the thrill of it. The only thing stopping them from warring with each other is the fact their god forbids it. We’re not savages, Nithral,” Vesemir stated, eying Nithral with a worried gaze. “You’re not honestly considering going with them, are you?” he asked, taking Nithral by the forearm and stopping him.
Like Nithral, Vesemir was scruffy from travel and their poverty struck lifestyle. His once wavy black hair was now a site of knots and tangles with grime and muck, a trail that fell to his shoulders. He wore a loose black shirt, with a byrnie chest piece over the topic of it, the regular grey leather jack had been left off with the heat though.
Nithral sighed, shaking his head uncertainly. “I don’t know Ves, if they make an offer we could benefit from, it might be worth it,” Nithral stated in an attempt to sway him, but Vesemir just shook his head defiantly. “The only thing they can offer us is blood and death, just because the jhat gave you his sword does not mean he is your friend. He wants to use you, they know our past, Nithral, and we don’t want to get caught up in their pointless war. Especially against the Hyrkoon Kingdom,” Vesemir argued, making Nithral sigh.
“Alright, Ves. I’ll meet you at the zorses soon,” Nithral promised him, placing a hand on Vesemir’s shoulder. Still, the man frowned, but gave him a nod before departing. When he was out of sight, Nithral turned his gaze back to Damien, who waited impatiently for him at the corner of their path. Nithral gave him a wave, and the man continued his path, forcing Nithral to quicken his pace to keep up with him.
-
Jhat Ugnuk was a stern man, with squinted piercing eyes and an imposingly sharp head. Outside, Damien Dardowl waited patiently for hit jhat to call him, guarding the doorway so that no others may enter without permit. Nithral sat by the fire in the centre of the jhat’s tent, his legs crossed and eyes focused on the flames. Ugnuk sat opposite of him, sat upon a cushion that placed him above those that sat before him, as a jhat should be.
“Damien informs me that you are leaving,” Ugnuk started, hovering his hand over the flames tenaciously. Nithral nodded, crossing his arms and lifting his gaze to the jhat. “Yes,” Nithral confirmed, “your hospitality has been most appreciated, we won’t forget it,” Nithral assured him politely, making Ugnuk chuckle. “No, I’m sure you won’t.” Nithral raised an eyebrow, but didn’t question him.
After a moment of silence, Nithral finally realised that Ugnak wanted his sword back, and without another moment he unsheathed the weapon and rested it in his palms. “You will be needing this back for your war,” Nithral stated, offering Ugnak the sword, but the jhat just gazed at the Valyrian strangely. “It is disrespectful to return a gift in Jogos Nhai, is this not the same elsewhere?” Ugnak questioned him, and Nithral gulped awkwardly, lowering his gaze.
“It is,” Nithral answered carefully, and Ugnak nodded. “The blade is yours, use her well,” he implored, rising from his seat and tucking his arms behind his back. “You know so little about our culture, our traditions. Tell me, sheep herder, what do you think of when I say Jogos Nhai?” Ugnak asked, the curiosity on his tone sounded genuine, and Nithral was at a loss for words.
“War,” he finally uttered, thinking of Vesemir’s words. Ugnak smiled, nodding. “Yes, we are a warring people, but what else?” he ushered, and after a moment of further thought, Nithral shook his head clueless. “So, what makes the Jogos Nhai any different to the Dothraki? Other than the obvious birth bindings and differing steed breeds,” Ugnak asked, and once again, Nithral shook his head, stumped.
“I worry that you are leaving with a wrong impression on our people. That you think we are the ‘bad guys’ here, and not the Hyrkooni,” Ugnak stated, crossing his arms, but Nithral just sighed. “There is no good or bad, just men,” he muttered, this much he knew. Ugnak frowned, his gaze scanning Nithral up and down.
“Damien Dardowl, it doesn’t take a genius to see he is different to the rest of us,” Ugnak stated, taking his seat again. Nithral nodded, glancing back to the doorway of the tent cautiously before turning back to the jhat. “His father was a farmer, a man that spat on our ancient traditions. Still, he had the freedom to do as he pleased with his life, and none of us questioned his abilities as a farmer. Yet when he started forbidding his son’s wishes to become a warrior, then it began to be a problem.”
“You see, the Jogos Nhai are a proud people, and while we are a warring race, we do not fight for the sake of it. No, we fight for our freedom, and prevent those who would try to take it away from us. We do not fight among ourselves though, this is forbidden, no matter the cost. Yet what should we treasure more, law or tradition?” Ugnak asked rhetorically, and Nithral waited patiently for him to continue.
“Damien later pursued his interests to become a warrior with his uncle, and his father… He became outraged with his son, taking a shovel and hitting his brother over the head, killing him instantly. He then blamed his son. In our culture, we are forbidden to kill another man from Jogos Nhai, to even think it is sin. So when Damien was brought to trial before me, I saw that his father was judged as well. When he later admitted to his crime, I had him banished from Jogos Nhai, stripping him of his lands and zorse. He was to walk the plains of Jogos Nahi for eternity.”
“You know what he did? Murdered another of his kin, stole their zorse, and rode for the Kingdom of Hyrkoon, where he encouraged further death onto our people. Now we march against them, our ambitions clear, we fight to defend our people, our lands, our freedom. Tradition says we are not to kill our own people, but before this war is over, I will have the head of that outcast, and King Hyrkoon. I know both you and Vesemir were once knights of the foreign kingdom in the west of these lands, and that you do not want to fight for us because you believe we are savages…” Ugnak stated, but Nithral shook his head.
“You are not savages, there is just no benefit to us getting involved in a war that has nothing to do with us,” Nithral explained, causing Ugnak to sigh. “If it is wealth you want, you can have it. When we raid their homes and take back what is ours, we will give you the loot. Jogos Nhai do not lust for trinkets and shiny things like you men west of the Mountains,” Ugnak stated, causing Nithral to frown.
“Not all men lust for coin west of the Mountains, especially not where I come from,” Nithral claimed, to which Ugnak smiled. “Then teach me. Fight with me, be my ally,” Ugnak pleaded, staring at the Valyrian through the dancing flames. Nithral frowned, thinking of Vesemir’s words. What would he think if I accepted?
Nithral
The plains of Jogos Nhai stretched far and wide, with the Howling Hills and White Mountains in the west, the Leviathan Sound and … moreThousand Islands in the north, Yi Ti to the south and the Kingdom of N’Ghai to the east. They were camped by the Blue Sea, an inland sea just east of the Great Dawn Sea, and uncomfortably close to Tiqui.
Nithral Raeltheon sat by the water’s edge, a stern look on his light brown eyes as he stared into his wavering reflection. He was rugged, that much was certain, and certainly not familiar to the shepherd boy that had left the Valyrian plains all those years ago in search of glory and chivalry. Nor was he that, or much of anything at all.
The reflection wore his hair long and unruly, which was once light brown, but now weathered and unwashed, the grime and dust and turned his hair darker. It was coarse and knotted, and just reached his shoulders. His beard was of a similar situation, being coarse and… [view original content]
The other option would be highly dangerous. Plus, he already told Vesemir that he wouldn't. If he takes the offer, Vesemir might leave.
Ps: This character was very similar to a character I was planning to eventually submit, to the story. I was seriously planning to create and submit a valaryian adventurer that left his life of shepherding, when he was younger, to go on adventures etc... However, I have a couple other ideas for characters that I'm hoping I'll be able to submit today. Hopefully, somebody has not created similar characters to them.
Nithral
The plains of Jogos Nhai stretched far and wide, with the Howling Hills and White Mountains in the west, the Leviathan Sound and … moreThousand Islands in the north, Yi Ti to the south and the Kingdom of N’Ghai to the east. They were camped by the Blue Sea, an inland sea just east of the Great Dawn Sea, and uncomfortably close to Tiqui.
Nithral Raeltheon sat by the water’s edge, a stern look on his light brown eyes as he stared into his wavering reflection. He was rugged, that much was certain, and certainly not familiar to the shepherd boy that had left the Valyrian plains all those years ago in search of glory and chivalry. Nor was he that, or much of anything at all.
The reflection wore his hair long and unruly, which was once light brown, but now weathered and unwashed, the grime and dust and turned his hair darker. It was coarse and knotted, and just reached his shoulders. His beard was of a similar situation, being coarse and… [view original content]
Ah, damn it, it appears I have underestimated the wounds of the child and overestimated the ability of the mother to get help for her. Well, that makes me a bit conflicted, but I am not sure how much Ria could have done for her either way. Probably not more than the mother, but now I am concerned that we might have chosen wrong already. But hm, at least we might find out more about this mysterious saviour.
The Voting is Closed! The Pale Lotus will chase after the rescuer. This is certainly an interesting choice outcome, and I'm surprised more p… moreeople weren't interested in a bleeding to death kid. Though then again her mother was with her, and she could likely get her somewhere safe, but it just makes the Pale Lotus' actions seem a little strange. Anyway, I have the next part ready, and it goes to hopefully the final PoV to be made by me! His name is Nithral Raeltheon, and he is a Valyrian hunter/sellsword currently based in Jogos Nhai.
[Accept Ugnak’s offer]
I want to see his fighting skill and I also agree with Mathea.I like to see how cool he is and I want to know more about Jagos Nhai
Ashame I cant participate in the last choice about chasing or not
Ashame I cant participate in the last choice about chasing or not
Gotta be quick! Nah the voting was looking pretty clear at that stage, and regularly I would leave the choice open for a day or two before finalising the votes, but as I'm still unsure about my reader base, I just closed it when the votes stopped rolling in. Not to worry though, I'll be sure to wait for you now
[Accept Ugnak’s offer]
I want to see his fighting skill and I also agree with Mathea.I like to see how cool he is and I want to know more about Jagos Nhai
Ashame I cant participate in the last choice about chasing or not
No No I didnt mean that,U dont have to wait for me.I was just on a vocation for 2 days.So I think I will inform u when I will off for sometime.Just dont wait for me.If it takes too long I think I will be guilty
Ashame I cant participate in the last choice about chasing or not
Gotta be quick! Nah the voting was looking pretty clear at that … morestage, and regularly I would leave the choice open for a day or two before finalising the votes, but as I'm still unsure about my reader base, I just closed it when the votes stopped rolling in. Not to worry though, I'll be sure to wait for you now
No No I didnt mean that,U dont have to wait for me.I was just on a vocation for 2 days.So I think I will inform u when I will off for sometime.Just dont wait for me.If it takes too long I think I will be guilty
Took me a bit to decide on this, but I believe this will be for the better. Well, both options could lead to interesting options, but I am intrigued by the Jogos Nhai and would like to learn more of them. Surely, Vesemir will not be pleased in the slightest but hey, this sounds so intriguing that I will not miss out on the chance to learn more of them. So, let's see what comes out of this
Nithral
The plains of Jogos Nhai stretched far and wide, with the Howling Hills and White Mountains in the west, the Leviathan Sound and … moreThousand Islands in the north, Yi Ti to the south and the Kingdom of N’Ghai to the east. They were camped by the Blue Sea, an inland sea just east of the Great Dawn Sea, and uncomfortably close to Tiqui.
Nithral Raeltheon sat by the water’s edge, a stern look on his light brown eyes as he stared into his wavering reflection. He was rugged, that much was certain, and certainly not familiar to the shepherd boy that had left the Valyrian plains all those years ago in search of glory and chivalry. Nor was he that, or much of anything at all.
The reflection wore his hair long and unruly, which was once light brown, but now weathered and unwashed, the grime and dust and turned his hair darker. It was coarse and knotted, and just reached his shoulders. His beard was of a similar situation, being coarse and… [view original content]
Ah, damn it, it appears I have underestimated the wounds of the child and overestimated the ability of the mother to get help for her. Well,… more that makes me a bit conflicted, but I am not sure how much Ria could have done for her either way. Probably not more than the mother, but now I am concerned that we might have chosen wrong already. But hm, at least we might find out more about this mysterious saviour.
I see what are you trying to do here...The humanising of the Jogos Nhai doesn't make me empathize with them.
Ugnak claims that they're no different to the Dothraki but to me they are pretty similar,Both make people of close lands suffer with their constant plunderings and raids.They attempt to conquer other Kingdoms before so now is they turn to be on the other side of the coin.
Nithral
The plains of Jogos Nhai stretched far and wide, with the Howling Hills and White Mountains in the west, the Leviathan Sound and … moreThousand Islands in the north, Yi Ti to the south and the Kingdom of N’Ghai to the east. They were camped by the Blue Sea, an inland sea just east of the Great Dawn Sea, and uncomfortably close to Tiqui.
Nithral Raeltheon sat by the water’s edge, a stern look on his light brown eyes as he stared into his wavering reflection. He was rugged, that much was certain, and certainly not familiar to the shepherd boy that had left the Valyrian plains all those years ago in search of glory and chivalry. Nor was he that, or much of anything at all.
The reflection wore his hair long and unruly, which was once light brown, but now weathered and unwashed, the grime and dust and turned his hair darker. It was coarse and knotted, and just reached his shoulders. His beard was of a similar situation, being coarse and… [view original content]
[Refuse Ugnak's offer]
I see what are you trying to do here...The humanising of the Jogos Nhai doesn't make me empathize with them.
Ugna… morek claims that they're no different to the Dothraki but to me they are pretty similar,Both make people of close lands suffer with their constant plunderings and raids.They attempt to conquer other Kingdoms before so now is they turn to be on the other side of the coin.
Nithral
The plains of Jogos Nhai stretched far and wide, with the Howling Hills and White Mountains in the west, the Leviathan Sound and … moreThousand Islands in the north, Yi Ti to the south and the Kingdom of N’Ghai to the east. They were camped by the Blue Sea, an inland sea just east of the Great Dawn Sea, and uncomfortably close to Tiqui.
Nithral Raeltheon sat by the water’s edge, a stern look on his light brown eyes as he stared into his wavering reflection. He was rugged, that much was certain, and certainly not familiar to the shepherd boy that had left the Valyrian plains all those years ago in search of glory and chivalry. Nor was he that, or much of anything at all.
The reflection wore his hair long and unruly, which was once light brown, but now weathered and unwashed, the grime and dust and turned his hair darker. It was coarse and knotted, and just reached his shoulders. His beard was of a similar situation, being coarse and… [view original content]
And the Voting is Closed! Nithral will accept Ugnak's offer. This will certainly lead to some interesting interactions with the Valyrian and the Jogos Nhai in the future, but how Vesemir will take to this might be another thing entirely. This vote was a tie, and naturally I'll hand this choice to the submitter of the character if that happens, but as Nithral is mine, and there are other factors effecting this vote, this is the choice that Nithral will go with.
At any rate, the newest part is ready, and it's a Dickon part. Last time we saw him was in the prologue, and he was stranded on a wrecked vessel bound for Qarth.
Nithral
The plains of Jogos Nhai stretched far and wide, with the Howling Hills and White Mountains in the west, the Leviathan Sound and … moreThousand Islands in the north, Yi Ti to the south and the Kingdom of N’Ghai to the east. They were camped by the Blue Sea, an inland sea just east of the Great Dawn Sea, and uncomfortably close to Tiqui.
Nithral Raeltheon sat by the water’s edge, a stern look on his light brown eyes as he stared into his wavering reflection. He was rugged, that much was certain, and certainly not familiar to the shepherd boy that had left the Valyrian plains all those years ago in search of glory and chivalry. Nor was he that, or much of anything at all.
The reflection wore his hair long and unruly, which was once light brown, but now weathered and unwashed, the grime and dust and turned his hair darker. It was coarse and knotted, and just reached his shoulders. His beard was of a similar situation, being coarse and… [view original content]
The wrecked ship rode onto the shore with a swift bump to a halt, pulling the wreck on its side to find its balance. The former slaves had only just found their legs when the Qaathi guards were upon them, atop their camels with their scaled copper armour shining ever so valiantly in the morning sun.
The shipwrecked crew were ushered off into separate groups, some taken to the cells, others to the gallows, and the rest to the slave auctions. Dickon stood amongst this group, a brass collar around his neck, connected to the shackles around his wrists and ankles via gilded iron chains. His narrow muscular body was bathed and powdered, and he stood amongst the strongest and handsomest of the slaves from the ship, none of which Dickon had gotten to know during their time adrift.
“Come forth, call a price for this healthy and young Andal, son of a knight!” the slaver auctioned, ringing his bell to gain the attention of the crowd. “Four coppers!” an old man yelled, and the slaver smiled. “Starting price: four coppers!” there was a moment of silence, and the slaver glanced over the murmuring crowd before clearing his throat. “Sold!” he announced, pushing the shackled Andal down into the crowd, where he was escorted by the guards.
The slaver turned his glance to the next man, his skin tanned and his muscles thick and defined; and detailed with scars. The slaver took him by the arm to bring him forward, but the slave nudged him off effortlessly, and he was brought forward by the guards under spear point. “How about this Dothraki? Strong and obedient, perfect for a-” the Dothraki spat on his face, but showed no retaliation.
“Naqis mahrazhkem drivolat imesh,” he smirked, to which the slaver scowled at him. “Any takers,” he muttered aloud, to which the crowd remained silent. “Put him over there,” the slaver ordered, wiping away the saliva from his cheek. The guards followed his order obediently, but the Dothraki did not, causing him a harsh beating; which no one seemed to notice. The slaver continued his auction, now walking to Dickon, who glared long and hard at him.
“This one is a Westerosi, and a royal one too. Castle born and castle trained! A perfect bed-warmer,” the slaver chuckled, and the crowd joined him in laughter, drowning out Dickon’s low growl of ire towards them. “Any takers?” the slaver called, but Dickon gritted his teeth. His hands trembled, and as he stared at the distracted slaver, he made his decision. I won’t do it again. Without further hesitation, Dickon kicked at the slaver’s knee, making him collapse under the sudden jolt, and he wrapped his shackle chains around his neck.
The man gasped, and with him the crowd followed, attracting the attention of the guards that kicked the Dothraki to a pulp. They yelled at him in their language, one which Dickon was only just starting to understand, but a foreigner could understand what they were saying in a situation akin to this. Dickon didn’t stop until they were finally on him, side-stepping just in time to miss the lunge of the first guard’s spear. He would have dodged the second too, had the chains around his ankles not tripped him.
He landed on his arse with a solid thud, pain thrusting up his back, but there was no time to yearn over it, as a spear thrust between his legs, sticking into the wood. The second attempt Dickon managed to parry, using this chains as a shield, which he then wrapped around the shaft and successfully disarmed the man. By the time had had a secure grip on the spear, the crowds split to allow for reinforcements to charge through, all yelling at him to drop his weapon. Dickon bit his tongue, watching as the outnumbering power surrounded the raised platform, and the point of the other guards spear pressed into his ribs.
Reluctantly, Dickon dropped the spear, and received a punch to the back of the head by the man behind him. Dickon fell to the ground, and the point of the guard’s spear followed him down, hovering just over his neck as its owner asked for his master’s permission. The slaver rubbed his neck, the print of Dickon’s chains reddened around his throat. “You piece of shit, I hope it was worth it,” he spat, before nodding to the guard, who lifted his spear to execute him.
“I’ll take him,” a man called, pushing his way through the crowd, and only merely stopping the now agitated guard. “And the Dothraki too,” the man added, revealing himself from the crowd, who gasped at his presence. It wasn’t long until Dickon spotted his gaze, a smug smile spread across his lips.
“Prince Rhaedon!” the slaver exclaimed in a gasp, his eyes widened, and the crowd shared his shocked expression. The man smirked, crossing his arms. “How much?” he asked, his sly tone making the slaver gulp. “I, urm… Four silver marks for the Dothraki,” the slaver uttered, rubbing his neck before turning his gaze to Dickon, greed appearing in his eye. “And two gold pieces for the Westerosi, for the trouble he has brought me,” the slaver grinned, and Dickon gritted his teeth, but was held down by the foot of the guard. Rhaedon rolled his eyes.
“Twenty silver marks and my best camel,” the prince bargained, and after a moment of thought, the slaver nodded. “They’re yours,” he agreed, but before passing Dickon over, he pulled his cock out to piss in his ear. “As for my golden pieces,” the slaver remarked, evoking some laughter from the recovering crowd. He turned his attention to the guard, who he gave a final nod to, and without another moment Dickon’s gaze instantly fell into darkness.
-
Dickon awoke in a room of magnificent architecture, foreign to the designs of the castles of Westeros, but certainly not lacking in excellence. The room was a pallet of colours, the chiselled and polished quartz walls, the marble floor, the painted ceiling… Dickon rubbed his eyes to assure he wasn’t seeing from his sleep, and his eyes confirmed that what he saw was true.
The West Wolf pulled himself up, feeling his head heavy and retaliating to the movement, a large bump on the back on his head. Dickon groaned as he placed a hand on the back of his head, cursing as he winced at his own touch. The guard had struck him hard, and in rightly so, but the West Wolf would not go back to the fighting pits of Meereen. That’s where the unwanted slaves went, after they were abused in whichever way their master pleased of them, and then they fought. It came to a point where blood was no longer shed for survival, but for regular routine, like one would get out of bed the next morning. He lost part of himself in those pits, and he forbid himself from going back, yet now he was… where?
Dickon stood himself upright, his eyes unfocused and spinning as his head readjusted to the sudden movement, and his body leaned against the wall for support. His eyes trailed around the room, the windows barred and letting in no light except for that of torches and city lights. He presumed that the doors were barred, they always were for a slave. Dickon rested his back against the wall, sliding down to the floor and staring up to the ceiling, its portrait telling another tale.
A tale of death, from the appearance of it. The Milk Men of Qarth rode on their camels, spears piercing the men in spider silk and iron; fighting on the back of chariots. Dickon sighed, feeling no empathy for the lost souls that remained for a slave to gaze at. He instead wondered why he was even placed in such a lavish room, and an answer which would no doubt be answered directly, as the lock to the main door fumbled.
Dickon stared coldly between the crack of the doors as they were pulled open, revealing the merchant prince and two guards, which looked of Ghiscari descent. Dickon has seen many of the Ghiscari nobles during his time at the pits, and all had their personal guards that were handpicked from the Lockstep Legions, yet it surprised Dickon to see a Qaathi with them. The prince entered with a smile on his lips, his hands clasped and his gaze condescending, yet also inquisitive.
“Get up, slave,” he ordered with a nonchalant tone, crossing over to his window. Dickon groaned, feeling the bump on the back of his head which reminded him not to retaliate. Reluctantly, he pulled himself up, his head spinning as he finally stood on both feet. The guards gave him a stern glare, their hands tightly grasping the shafts of their iron spears; weapons they had made them revered over all of Essos.
“You must have many questions, I imagine. Where are you? Who am I? Why did I buy you?” The Qaathi presumed, but Dickon remained silent, his glare piercing at the man’s back. The prince sighed, turning his gaze from the window to Dickon, a look of disappointment on his eyes. “I am Prince Rhaedon Thoxi Rhos, a member of the Thirteen, and arguably the richest man in Qarth,” he announced, but there was no pride in his tone, no sense of achievement.
“Good for you,” Dickon muttered, crossing his arms. He received the scowl of one of the guards. “You will refer to the prince as Your Majesty,” he informed him sternly, readjusting his grip on his spear. Dickon smirked, turning his gaze to the Ghiscari. “Of course,” he smirked, now turning back to Rhaedon. “What the fuck do you want?” A small smile touched Rhaedon’s lips as he turned to meet Dickon’s impatient gaze, and his guards pointed their spears at Dickon in warning. “Go on then, fucking try it,” Dickon taunted him, walking into the point of the spear. The Ghiscari did not flinch, staring Dickon dead in the eye.
“You will find we are not amateurs, like your Qartheen friends,” the man informed him with a raspy voice, his arm steady and his gaze alert. Rhaedon grinned, clasping his hands again. “Captain Harnes, please, this slave is of no threat to me,” he assured the man, making Dickon raise an eyebrow. “What makes you so fucking sure about that?” Dickon spat in retaliation, and Harnes shook his head with furrowed eyebrows. “I’m afraid I agree with the Westerosi, Your Majesty,” he uttered with concern, but obediently followed his prince’s orders.
“Sure, he’s wild and untamed, but with some discipline he could become a useful asset,” Rhaedon stated, now approaching Dickon with ambitious eyes. “And a very powerful man,” he assured him, making Dickon scoff. “You don’t know me,” he spluttered in return, and the Qaathi nodded. “That’s correct, I don’t, but I would like to. The Dothraki had so little to say, but I blame that on his unfamiliarity with our common tongue. You, however, seem to have grasped a better understanding of it than he has, and I’m intrigued as to where you learnt it, and your story,” Rhaedon claimed, now joining Captain Harnes’ side.
He waited patiently, as if expecting something from him. Dickon gritted his teeth, flicking his gaze between Prince Rhaedon and Captain Harnes. The only expression he could read was disdain, and that was from the Ghiscari. As for the Prince, he was at a loss, and that worried him. Why did he want to know so much about a slave? Dickon was reluctant to share such information with any man, but especially a master, the risks were too great. Though with that being said, if the Prince was honest with his intentions, this could get Dickon closer to his destiny. Dickon bit his lip, staring into Rhaedon’s cold eyes.
I know, I know, Dickon's a great guy and likely a good contender for my favourite PoV, but in celebration of the absolutely spectacular latest Thrones episode, this was a chance that had to be taken I do enjoy him and the entire part though, that was quite a twist, with him becoming a slave again. This Rhaedon fellow, I am not sure what to make of him yet though. I wouldn't say I trust him, especially not given that he's Dickon's new master, but he seems to have ulterior motives and maybe we can profit from that.
[Tell him your story]
Well, two reasons there. For once, I would like to learn more of Dickon's story. We don't know much of him yet, but from the prologue, he seemed to be an interesting guy for sure. I wish to know more of why he chose to take on this journey. Second, if he likes it or not, this guy owns him. Wether or not he manages to escape might depend on how benevolent his master remains. Staying on his good side cannot possibly be a bad idea, regardless wether or not Rhaedon likes him more if he shares his story. In situations such as this, it's better to swallow his pride and work towards his goal in secret, instead of defying his master from the very beginning.
Dickon
The wrecked ship rode onto the shore with a swift bump to a halt, pulling the wreck on its side to find its balance. The former sl… moreaves had only just found their legs when the Qaathi guards were upon them, atop their camels with their scaled copper armour shining ever so valiantly in the morning sun.
The shipwrecked crew were ushered off into separate groups, some taken to the cells, others to the gallows, and the rest to the slave auctions. Dickon stood amongst this group, a brass collar around his neck, connected to the shackles around his wrists and ankles via gilded iron chains. His narrow muscular body was bathed and powdered, and he stood amongst the strongest and handsomest of the slaves from the ship, none of which Dickon had gotten to know during their time adrift.
“Come forth, call a price for this healthy and young Andal, son of a knight!” the slaver auctioned, ringing his bell to gain the attention of the crowd. “Fo… [view original content]
It doesn't hurt to do this to get on his good side. Plus, this can be his repayment for saving his life. Although, the main reason I want to pick this is because, I want to know his story.
Dickon
The wrecked ship rode onto the shore with a swift bump to a halt, pulling the wreck on its side to find its balance. The former sl… moreaves had only just found their legs when the Qaathi guards were upon them, atop their camels with their scaled copper armour shining ever so valiantly in the morning sun.
The shipwrecked crew were ushered off into separate groups, some taken to the cells, others to the gallows, and the rest to the slave auctions. Dickon stood amongst this group, a brass collar around his neck, connected to the shackles around his wrists and ankles via gilded iron chains. His narrow muscular body was bathed and powdered, and he stood amongst the strongest and handsomest of the slaves from the ship, none of which Dickon had gotten to know during their time adrift.
“Come forth, call a price for this healthy and young Andal, son of a knight!” the slaver auctioned, ringing his bell to gain the attention of the crowd. “Fo… [view original content]
Dickon
The wrecked ship rode onto the shore with a swift bump to a halt, pulling the wreck on its side to find its balance. The former sl… moreaves had only just found their legs when the Qaathi guards were upon them, atop their camels with their scaled copper armour shining ever so valiantly in the morning sun.
The shipwrecked crew were ushered off into separate groups, some taken to the cells, others to the gallows, and the rest to the slave auctions. Dickon stood amongst this group, a brass collar around his neck, connected to the shackles around his wrists and ankles via gilded iron chains. His narrow muscular body was bathed and powdered, and he stood amongst the strongest and handsomest of the slaves from the ship, none of which Dickon had gotten to know during their time adrift.
“Come forth, call a price for this healthy and young Andal, son of a knight!” the slaver auctioned, ringing his bell to gain the attention of the crowd. “Fo… [view original content]
Dickon
The wrecked ship rode onto the shore with a swift bump to a halt, pulling the wreck on its side to find its balance. The former sl… moreaves had only just found their legs when the Qaathi guards were upon them, atop their camels with their scaled copper armour shining ever so valiantly in the morning sun.
The shipwrecked crew were ushered off into separate groups, some taken to the cells, others to the gallows, and the rest to the slave auctions. Dickon stood amongst this group, a brass collar around his neck, connected to the shackles around his wrists and ankles via gilded iron chains. His narrow muscular body was bathed and powdered, and he stood amongst the strongest and handsomest of the slaves from the ship, none of which Dickon had gotten to know during their time adrift.
“Come forth, call a price for this healthy and young Andal, son of a knight!” the slaver auctioned, ringing his bell to gain the attention of the crowd. “Fo… [view original content]
Why not?Dickon is already a slave and perhaps if he gets along with this Prince,he could a chance of being released mayhaps?
Moreover not getting along with him can only mean tortures and such to poor Dickon.
Dickon
[Tell him your story]
Dickon is really a instresting guy.I want to know more about him and also there is no harm telling this.So I am going with telling the story
Dickon
I know, I know, Dickon's a great guy and likely a good contender for my favourite PoV, but in celebration of the absolute… morely spectacular latest Thrones episode, this was a chance that had to be taken I do enjoy him and the entire part though, that was quite a twist, with him becoming a slave again. This Rhaedon fellow, I am not sure what to make of him yet though. I wouldn't say I trust him, especially not given that he's Dickon's new master, but he seems to have ulterior motives and maybe we can profit from that.
[Tell him your story]
Well, two reasons there. For once, I would like to learn more of Dickon's story. We don't know much of him yet, but from the prologue, he seemed to be an interesting guy for sure. I wish to know more of why he chose to take on this journey. Second, if he likes it or not, this guy owns him. Wether or not he manages to escape might depend on how benevolent his master remains. Staying on h… [view original content]
Hm, I'm afraid I have not. I get a lot of PM's or notifications, so at times I do not manage to see a PM and since Telltale is putting as much work into this site as they put into Thrones Season 2, I cannot access older notifications. Can you send it to me again, or bump it if you still have the link in your browser history?
And the Voting is Closed! Dickon will choose to tell his story. Certainly not a con of a choice as it gives some insight into Dickon's character, and perhaps explains why he is the way he is, but telling this to a man possible of manipulation, especially being his slave master, could be another thing entirely. We'll catch up more on that soon.
I'd like to announce that I hope to get the next part done today, which would be a Mulan part. I'd also like to inform you guys that I'll be pretty quiet in activity as of Wednesday until Saturday, as I've got a little trip I need to attend to, and when I get back I'll likely be needing to attend the truck load of work piling at my feet, so I apologise if I don't get another part out after Mulan's for another week or so (really hoping I can get Mulan's finished today )
Dickon
The wrecked ship rode onto the shore with a swift bump to a halt, pulling the wreck on its side to find its balance. The former sl… moreaves had only just found their legs when the Qaathi guards were upon them, atop their camels with their scaled copper armour shining ever so valiantly in the morning sun.
The shipwrecked crew were ushered off into separate groups, some taken to the cells, others to the gallows, and the rest to the slave auctions. Dickon stood amongst this group, a brass collar around his neck, connected to the shackles around his wrists and ankles via gilded iron chains. His narrow muscular body was bathed and powdered, and he stood amongst the strongest and handsomest of the slaves from the ship, none of which Dickon had gotten to know during their time adrift.
“Come forth, call a price for this healthy and young Andal, son of a knight!” the slaver auctioned, ringing his bell to gain the attention of the crowd. “Fo… [view original content]
The Amethyst Princess took the weight off her legs as she sunk towards the floor, kneeling at the low dining table that seated many of the royal Jidao’s and members of the court. The familiar faces of Chancellor Ji, Zhen Ju and Raqhis could be spotted around the table, while others sat between them. This consisted off the familiar Prince Jia Jidao, Princess Fei Min Jidao, Princess Koko Lin Jidao and Prince Jing Cha Jidao, all relatives to the royal line that carried the name from distant families, all warring among themselves to assure a better claim to the throne for their family once Mulan fell. It made her loathe her family members.
Perhaps the only graceful faces that sat at her table were those of the Wuhan’s, a loyal family that had always been close advisors to the Great Emperors of the Dawn, including her recently deceased father. Yang Wuhan was the Duke of Wu Chi, a dukedom just north of Tiqui renowned for their trade of saffron. His wife, Duchess Qiu, sat beside him with a warm smile on her aging lips, and beside her sat their eldest son: Shao Wuhan. Shao was a different man to his father, cocky and a gambler, but he had heeded his father’s teachings and become quite a successful merchant.
“Princess Mulan, have you decided on your dress for the coronation?” Princess Jing piped up as she sat patiently with her hands clasped, a gleaming look in her eye. Mulan sighed, averting her gaze from the more annoying of her cousins. “No, cousin, I have not,” Mulan stated, to which Princess Fei chipped in. “Mulan, you know how excellent a seamstress I am, allow me to make you a gown for the coronation!” she exclaimed in excitement, to which Mulan gave her a short and dismissive smile.
“Thank you, cousin,” she smiled, forcing it on for the appeal of the horrendous folk that called themselves Jidao. “I heard that the God Empress of Leng has been invited to witness your coronation,” Pricess Koko mumbled from her corner, looking to Mulan with nervous eyes, to which the Amethyst Princess gave her a warm and comforting smile. “I have extended an invitation to her, yes,” Mulan admitted, making Raqhis frown.
“A decision I still believe unwise, my Princess,” he stated with disapproval, making Zhen Ju roll his eyes. “Once again with the Ghiscari,” he hissed, making Raqhis scowl at him in turn. “Enough, you both know the rules as well as I do,” Mulan reminded them, to which they both nodded. “What occurs in the courtroom remains in the courtroom,” Zhen Ju remarked, tapping his finger on the table surface impatiently.
“My Princess, I must agree with the eunuch, I do not believe it wise to have sent an invitation to the false Empress of Leng. They are not our allies,” Yang sparked, reminding her of something she was well aware of. “And rightly so after you convinced my father to take the head of her great-grandmother,” Mulan stated coldly, sternly glaring at the man that had once served ever so faithfully to her father. He frowned, lowering his gaze.
“Their gods and their culture had been wiped when the Pearl Emperor added Leng to the Empire, and after a thousand years of service, they wished for their freedom, and the self-proclaimed God Empress of Leng knew the late Opal Emperor would not shed such kindness,” Chancellor Ji remarked, a saddened look on his gaze. Zhen Ju nodded, slapping his hand against the table.
“And the payment was made, for breaking the alliance she lost her head, and now Leng remains independent,” Zhen Ju stated in conclusion, but Yang only sighed. “And isolated from all trade, especially with our Great Empire,” he muttered, making Mulan sigh. “Which is why I have extended Empress Lerela an invitation, I hope to restore the alliance between the Lengi and YiTish once again,” Mulan informed them, making Yang raise an eyebrow.
“You intend to convince her to bend the knee?” he asked, partly astonished by his take on her claim, but Mulan shook her head. “No, Duke Yang, I believe terms can be found between both our empires,” Mulan stated, to which Raqhis sighed. “An alliance with Leng alone will not save our dying Empire,” he stated with a doomed tone, making Chancellor Ji frown.
“I have sent my emissaries to Hyrkoon,” Chancellor Ji assured him, but Raqhis shook his head. “There is nothing we can offer him other than your hand in marriage, which only a fool would think of, you should have heeded my advice to seek an alliance with the Ghiscari Empire,” Raqhis muttered, making Zhen Ju scoff.
“Yes, and what would you have us do next? Enslave our children to manual labour? Crack the whip over the Great Dawn Empire?” Zhen spat, rolling his eyes, to which Raqhis glared at him. “No, I would not, but perhaps for you I’d advise it. It wouldn’t harm your son to lose some of those ham steaks from his belly, I’m sure he alone could feed the hordes of smallfolk outside our gates,” Raqhis mocked, crossing his arms. Zhen Ju arose from the floor, his eyes trembling with ire and his fists clenched.
“Outside, Ghiscari,” he ordered, but Mulan intervened before Zhen could further make a fool of himself. “QUIET!” she snapped, glaring at both of them with a menacing gaze. She watched her justiciar gulp before returning to the table, defeat and embarrassed. Her steward simply lowered his gaze from respect. “A marriage would not be out of question, Master Raqhis, if it would mean our joined empire and kingdom prevailed,” Mulan acknowledged, making Raqhis raise his eyebrows in shock, and even Zhen Ju furrowed his eyebrows.
“My Princess, by law that would mean he would have occupancy over the Great Empire,” Zhen Ju reminded her, to which she nodded. “And I would have just as much power over the Kingdom of Hyrkoon. It’s an option,” Mulan stated, making Zhen Ju frown, but he was given no time to argue as the guards to their dining room pulled open the doors, and two men entered.
A smile touched Mulan’s lips as she recognised the men that entered, accompanied by the golden guards of Tiqui. The Bloodstone Prince stood tall and proud, a smirk on his lips and his hands hidden in his sleeves, but they became revealed once he approached Mulan. “Sister!” he greeted, opening his arms in embracement. Mulan arose from the floor, accepting him into her arms with a warm smile across her lips. “Brother,” she mumbled excitedly, her voice muffled into his gown.
“Apologies I am late, I was caught up talking with our cousin,” he announced, extending his arm to the man in shining white armour, a solemn look on his face. “Jingim,” Mulan smiled, and the man gave her a respectful bow. “Empress Mulan, it is a pleasure to meet your eyes once again,” he complimented, making Mulan blush. “You are too kind, cousin,” beckoning him to sit beside her, opposite where Remi took his seat.
Prince Jingim awkwardly knelt down in his steel gear, unbuckling his gauntlets and removing his helm, revealing his luscious long black hair. Mulan admitted he looked handsome in his Dawn Guard armour, all white save for the steel chainmail around his groin and joints. His cuirass was embroidered with silver winding patterns, and his collar displayed that of a dove, the coat of arms of the legendary Dawn Guard of the Five Forts.
“Jingim had rode long and hard from the First Fort,” Remi informed her, marvelling over Jingim’s composure. “He has come on behalf of the Governess-General Xiang Wuhan,” he stated, turning his gaze to Duke Yang, who rose his eyebrows in surprise. “How is my daughter?” Yang asked, a touch of concern in his curious tone, to which Jingim gave him a firm nod. “She is well, my Lord,” Jingim assured him, yet his expression remained stern, and Mulan could see that there was something he had to say.
“Prince Jingim, as always it is an honour to have you at Tiqui, and an especial honour to have a member of the Dawn Guard in my halls,” Mulan stated, expressing her courtesies, “but you have travelled far and without notice, what may we do for you?” she asked, and Jingim nodded in thanks as he prepared himself for his message. “The Governess-General wanted me to inform you of the situation beyond the Five Forts. The Shyrke raids are becoming more common with each new moon, and the Skorpin’s chants have grown louder over the last week, almost audible from the Forts,” Jingim stated, much to the amusement of Zhen Ju.
“Shrykes and Skorpin’s,” he remarked with a grin, “are there ghouls too?” he mocked, receiving the glare of Yang and his wife, but Jingim paid him no mind. “What’s worse is that we’ve received a report from the Kingdom of N’Ghai. Apparently their hunters have seen activity grow in the Grey Waste,” Jingim added, a look of worry on his eyes. “What kind of activity?” Remi asked, his tone sounded amused, but also intrigued. Mulan could not tell if he was honest or not, but did not wait to find out.
“Jingim, I appreciate your tongue for tales, but I do not appreciate people wasting my time, especially now that I am to become the Empress,” Mulan stated, making Jingim frown. “My Princess, please. I know my daughter well, she would not lie about such things,” Yang stated in support, making Zhen Ju roll his eyes. “The Dawn Guard are disillusioned, following an order formed from an emperor that built the Five Forts out of paranoia of the gods. No offence, boy,” Zhen Ju stated, giving him a short and apathetic smile. Raqhis sighed.
“Even if this is true, my Princess, there is nothing we could do in our position. Perhaps it would be wise to seek out more information from this however,” Raqhis suggested, to which Jingim spoke up. “Xiang thought this would be the case. Cousin, if you do not believe my word, then accompany me back to the First Fort, and see for yourself whether I tell the truth,” Jingim pleaded, making Mulan frown.
“It sounds like a gamble to me,” Shao observed, his voice intrigued, but his father cut in before he could examine the situation further. “My Princess, please, think of what your father would do. Such a risk should not go unwarranted, especially if my daughter is concerned about it,” he stated with worry thick through his voice, but Chancellor Ji shook his head.
“My Princess, with all due respect, we have enough concerns here to be getting ourselves caught up in matters of hocus pocus,” Chancellor Ji argued, to which Remi cleared his throat. “Send me, Sister. I am certainly intrigued as to this matter, and unlike you, I don’t have an empire holding me back,” he smirked, but Jingim frowned. “She asked specifically for you,” Jingim stated, mentioning it to her only loud enough for she and Remi to hear.
Mulan sighed, turning her gaze across the dining table. Chancellor Ji showed complete disapproval of the matter, while Yang showed heavy concern for the opposite. Her gaze fell upon the Jidao’s, sitting silently and awkwardly, uselessly. Everything is happening so fast, can I really spare the time for a gamble? Mulan thought to herself, but there was a look in Jingim’s eye which she could not help but worry for. She turned her gaze to Remi, who awaited her decision, clearly hoping for the adventure.
[Agree to go with Jingim] [Send Remi in your place]
That was certainly hard choice to make, especially that indeed Mulan needs to look after whole Empire, but this is also why I decided to go with this one. If to have a little adventure, if not now, then when? :-)
Mulan
The Amethyst Princess took the weight off her legs as she sunk towards the floor, kneeling at the low dining table that seated many… more of the royal Jidao’s and members of the court. The familiar faces of Chancellor Ji, Zhen Ju and Raqhis could be spotted around the table, while others sat between them. This consisted off the familiar Prince Jia Jidao, Princess Fei Min Jidao, Princess Koko Lin Jidao and Prince Jing Cha Jidao, all relatives to the royal line that carried the name from distant families, all warring among themselves to assure a better claim to the throne for their family once Mulan fell. It made her loathe her family members.
Perhaps the only graceful faces that sat at her table were those of the Wuhan’s, a loyal family that had always been close advisors to the Great Emperors of the Dawn, including her recently deceased father. Yang Wuhan was the Duke of Wu Chi, a dukedom just north of Tiqui renowned for their trade of … [view original content]
She is far to busy to go there. She needs to maintain order in the court, run the empire, and prepare for the coronation. I'm sure Remi will be able to tell her if Jingim and the Governess-General are telling the truth.
Mulan
The Amethyst Princess took the weight off her legs as she sunk towards the floor, kneeling at the low dining table that seated many… more of the royal Jidao’s and members of the court. The familiar faces of Chancellor Ji, Zhen Ju and Raqhis could be spotted around the table, while others sat between them. This consisted off the familiar Prince Jia Jidao, Princess Fei Min Jidao, Princess Koko Lin Jidao and Prince Jing Cha Jidao, all relatives to the royal line that carried the name from distant families, all warring among themselves to assure a better claim to the throne for their family once Mulan fell. It made her loathe her family members.
Perhaps the only graceful faces that sat at her table were those of the Wuhan’s, a loyal family that had always been close advisors to the Great Emperors of the Dawn, including her recently deceased father. Yang Wuhan was the Duke of Wu Chi, a dukedom just north of Tiqui renowned for their trade of … [view original content]
So, my main concern here is that I do not trust Remi, for obvious reasons. I am not sure if it is better to let him go where he wants to go, or to let him stay in the heart of the Empire, where he can do gods know what. In the end though, I think there are arguments even beyond a distrust for Remi when it comes to go with Jingim, on account of the governess-general having specifically asked for her. I am sure she knows how important the empress is, on account of having a very high position herself, meaning that she definitely would not dare to waste her time with nonsense if there wouldn't be a very good reason.
Mulan
The Amethyst Princess took the weight off her legs as she sunk towards the floor, kneeling at the low dining table that seated many… more of the royal Jidao’s and members of the court. The familiar faces of Chancellor Ji, Zhen Ju and Raqhis could be spotted around the table, while others sat between them. This consisted off the familiar Prince Jia Jidao, Princess Fei Min Jidao, Princess Koko Lin Jidao and Prince Jing Cha Jidao, all relatives to the royal line that carried the name from distant families, all warring among themselves to assure a better claim to the throne for their family once Mulan fell. It made her loathe her family members.
Perhaps the only graceful faces that sat at her table were those of the Wuhan’s, a loyal family that had always been close advisors to the Great Emperors of the Dawn, including her recently deceased father. Yang Wuhan was the Duke of Wu Chi, a dukedom just north of Tiqui renowned for their trade of … [view original content]
Mulan
The Amethyst Princess took the weight off her legs as she sunk towards the floor, kneeling at the low dining table that seated many… more of the royal Jidao’s and members of the court. The familiar faces of Chancellor Ji, Zhen Ju and Raqhis could be spotted around the table, while others sat between them. This consisted off the familiar Prince Jia Jidao, Princess Fei Min Jidao, Princess Koko Lin Jidao and Prince Jing Cha Jidao, all relatives to the royal line that carried the name from distant families, all warring among themselves to assure a better claim to the throne for their family once Mulan fell. It made her loathe her family members.
Perhaps the only graceful faces that sat at her table were those of the Wuhan’s, a loyal family that had always been close advisors to the Great Emperors of the Dawn, including her recently deceased father. Yang Wuhan was the Duke of Wu Chi, a dukedom just north of Tiqui renowned for their trade of … [view original content]
Mulan
The Amethyst Princess took the weight off her legs as she sunk towards the floor, kneeling at the low dining table that seated many… more of the royal Jidao’s and members of the court. The familiar faces of Chancellor Ji, Zhen Ju and Raqhis could be spotted around the table, while others sat between them. This consisted off the familiar Prince Jia Jidao, Princess Fei Min Jidao, Princess Koko Lin Jidao and Prince Jing Cha Jidao, all relatives to the royal line that carried the name from distant families, all warring among themselves to assure a better claim to the throne for their family once Mulan fell. It made her loathe her family members.
Perhaps the only graceful faces that sat at her table were those of the Wuhan’s, a loyal family that had always been close advisors to the Great Emperors of the Dawn, including her recently deceased father. Yang Wuhan was the Duke of Wu Chi, a dukedom just north of Tiqui renowned for their trade of … [view original content]
I agree with Raquis this time,the Empress of a huge country like Yi-Ti can't afford to go personally to a location cause of the rumors around.Of course Remi could betray her but when you are the head better not risk yourself if Milan does that would be worst thing for the empire falling into a weak position and heritage problem.
It's better to focus on the possible alliances the Empire can get,The Wights can wait...
[Send Remi in your place]
She is far to busy to go there. She needs to maintain order in the court, run the empire, and prepare for the coronation. I'm sure Remi will be able to tell her if Jingim and the Governess-General are telling the truth.
Well it looks like we've come to a tie, and it's going to be a difficult one for me to break, especially since it's somewhat unfair to go off which vote reached the highest first in this situation Well given that Mulan is my character, and I know some things you guys do not, I'm going to close the vote with Mulan sending Remi in her place.
I do hate to close the votings like that, it feels seriously unfair and hopefully as the story progresses we'll get more readers to hopefully prevent that Anyway, I have the next part ready, which goes to our other Jidao PoV: Ria. The last time we saw her she had a chat with Old Mei, as well as her father about marriage avenues, and then concluded her first part as revealing her second identity as the Pale Lotus, and helping the smallfolk from those who try to endanger them. In the last part, this danger was three whoresons looking to rape a little girl and her mother, something which Ria merely prevented, and received some unknown assistance with. You guys chose to have her pursue this unknown helper, and this new part picks up where the other left off.
Mulan
The Amethyst Princess took the weight off her legs as she sunk towards the floor, kneeling at the low dining table that seated many… more of the royal Jidao’s and members of the court. The familiar faces of Chancellor Ji, Zhen Ju and Raqhis could be spotted around the table, while others sat between them. This consisted off the familiar Prince Jia Jidao, Princess Fei Min Jidao, Princess Koko Lin Jidao and Prince Jing Cha Jidao, all relatives to the royal line that carried the name from distant families, all warring among themselves to assure a better claim to the throne for their family once Mulan fell. It made her loathe her family members.
Perhaps the only graceful faces that sat at her table were those of the Wuhan’s, a loyal family that had always been close advisors to the Great Emperors of the Dawn, including her recently deceased father. Yang Wuhan was the Duke of Wu Chi, a dukedom just north of Tiqui renowned for their trade of … [view original content]
The Pale Lotus shed one final glance to the pained mother before disappearing into the night, the soft rhythm of footsteps darting down the neighbouring alleyway. Ria quickened her pace, swiftly turning a corner, and another, and another, until she was so distant in unknown territory that she had to slow herself. Her eyes did her little in the darkness, but she did not rely on sight during these little errands. Her ears listened for anything out of the slight that could be what she was in pursuit for. The darkness kept its silence, and Ria remained as still as stone as she studied her surroundings.
The alley she found herself in was barely two men thick, the kind where only cats and thieves lurked during the night, yet Ria was sure she wasn’t looking for a pickpocket or rodent. Minutes passed, and after a moment of reluctant decision, she bit her tongue and turned around. A rush of guilt fell over her as she thought of the poor girls that she had left behind for nothing, possibly still in danger. Ria slowly backtracked, feeling the walls that she had quickly scraped in her mad pursuit, investigating alleys and walking vaguely similar paths.
Her ears heard the soft wind breeze through the dark alleys, brushing against the walls and watering her eyes. She turned another corner, one which she found a weak flicker of light in. Her gaze lifted only momentarily to the lit lantern, sitting on a line that stretched between two windows, oddly placed and only recently burning. It was only then that her eyes spotted movement in the shadows, and her ears told the rest. Without a second thought she unsheathed her blade, entering a defensive stance as her eyes glared at the still shadow. Then she heard it.
It was soft, clearly intended to be silent, but there was much Ria’s ears could hear that most could not. The bowstring stretched enough for Ria to tense, freezing as her ears scouted the figure behind her, and her senses told her that the person she looked for stood behind her. “You shouldn’t have followed me,” the voice hissed, revealing itself to be a woman, Lengii from the sound of her accent. Ria exhaled softly, attempting to turn her gaze behind her, but the drawstring pulled tighter. “I wanted to thank you,” Ria explained cautiously, careful not to speak her identity, but the girl behind her only grunted in response.
“You’re the Pale Lotus,” she acknowledged sternly, to which Ria nodded, “I know some certain people which would pay a heavy price for your head,” the girl stated with a tone that seemed unconfident, something which Ria would use to her advantage. Without hesitation, Ria ducked and side swept the Lengii’s ankles, her arrow released as she tumbled, flying aimlessly into a wall. “Jia!” another girl screamed, this one smaller, her black hair in a loose braid. She ran towards Ria with a vengeful determination in her heterochromia eyes, one blue and the other green.
The woman tackled Ria to the ground, forcing them into a backward summersault which instantly split them apart, and while she was regaining her composure Ria was already back on her feet to strike her down to the ground. I just wanted to thank them, Ria thought with frustration as she lifted her fists to the approaching Lengii, who swinged her bow widely at Ria, long enough for the Pale Lotus to easily dodge the attack and quickly disarm the girl before she even knew what had happened. She finished the job by thrusting her foot into the Lengii’s knee, sounding a crack which made the girl yelp in pain.
Ria pulled an arrow from the Lengii’s quiver and nocked it to her bow, drawing it at the other huntress as she approached with panicked eyes, instantly halting as she noticed the arrow aimed at her. “Please!” she mumbled, raising her hands in defeat and falling to her knees, her glance flickering to the Lengii and back to Ria. “Please…” she barely uttered, tears forming in her eyes as she stared in plea, making Ria slightly release the tension on the bowstring. The agonising groans from behind the Pale Lotus made her consider mercy for the other, dropping the bow.
Instantly the girl ran to her friend, and for a moment Ria’s heart yearned to help, but only for a moment. She wanted to kill me, Ria reminded herself, holding her composure as she stared at the teary girl trying to assist her friend. The Pale Lotus shifted her gaze away from them, grabbing her sword from the ground and sheathing it into her sash, before then walking to the end of the alley, where another voice met her ears.
“In a rush, Pale Lotus?” it called out, only this was the voice of a man, and he sounded from the huntresses. Ria turned to meet the deep brown eyes of a nobleman, wound in a tight green silk doublet, and within his golden ringed fingers he held a steel kukri knife. The huntresses bowed beneath his feet, and before long Ria heard the sounds of marching footsteps, half-a-dozen men closing off the alley behind her, and just as many behind him, joined by a giant of a man with multiple burns across the right side of his face and body. His long scruffy black hair fell past his broad shoulders, behind his chainmail.
“Wouldn’t you like to properly meet those who you chose to hunt down?” the man asked, spoken with a domineering and deceitful tone. Ria remained silent, moving her hand to the hilt of her blade. She could feel the men behind her tensing up with this action, the sound of their spears lowering in preparation to strike. The nobleman smiled, twirling the knife in his hands and tucking it away in his coat. He extended both of his hands down to the huntresses, who hesitantly accepted his hands up.
“This beauty here is Jia Lai, quite short for a Lengii, but certainly not lacking in her complexion. And this… This is…” the man stumbled a moment, running a hand short raven black hair awkwardly. “Meirong,” the other huntress spat, to which the nobleman gave her a weak smile. “Meirong,” he repeated, “a huntress from the jungles of Yi Ti, clearly with an attitude,” he jeered, turning his gaze to Ria. “Of course, I don’t expect you to reveal your identity to these girls,” he announced with a smile, and without another word his giant approached her, slightly slouched under all of his armour.
“Shall I, Master?” the giant asked, turning his gaze to the nobleman with an awaiting gaze. Master, Ria repeated to herself, clenching her fists as she stared at the man through the slits of her mask in spite. He clasped his hands, shaking his head. “No, let her keep her anonymity,” he commanded, and the giant stood down, backing away from her. “Please, would you take a seat with me?” he asked, beckoning her to a couple of small wooden stools next to a small barrel. Ria watched cautiously as the man took sat himself down on the small stool, patiently awaiting Ria to join him.
Reluctantly, she approached the table, keeping her gaze locked on the giant who glared at her from his master’s side. Her gaze flickered just long enough to spot Meirong and Jia Lai taking their leave past the nobleman’s personal guards, leaving Ria to feel more in danger than she did before. Looming over the man, she reluctantly took a seat, her body concealed in the shadows, while the nobleman sat straight with the dim lantern light portrayed on him.
“Well, I’d offer you a drink, but I’m not sure how that would work with the mask,” he quipped warmly, a smile touching his lips as he concealed his chuckle from his dry humour. Ria remained silent, glaring between him and his giant body guard. The nobleman gulped, tapping his fingers on the barrel surface awkwardly as he followed Ria’s gaze. “This is Galor the Giant,” he stated, beckoning the man forward in introduction, “I’m sure I don’t need to explain how he got his title,” he chuckled, but Ria did not partake in his humour, now just staring at him with a cold gaze. “And I am Jalhar Zhad, Prince of Sulyra,” he announced, taking a short bow. Zhad, she thought, the name ringing a bell to her, but she was not sure where or why she had heard the name.
“I have heard a lot about you, the infamous Pale Lotus,” he stated, his gaze drifting off aimlessly, awe on his eyes. “I was hoping to find you, honestly, I’m quite surprised I managed to find you so soon, I-” he mumbled, but was cut off by Ria’s impatience. “What do you want, Zhad,” she muttered, making the prince raise an eyebrow in part shock and part lust. “My, what an alluring voice you have, even with that cover,” he marvelled, making Ria gulp gently under her robes. She was in part relieved that there was a mask to hide the tension that ran across her face.
“Straight to the point then,” he sighed disappointedly before giving her a firm nod. “I am here to attend the coronation of the new Empress, but I am also well aware of a plot that is rising against her. I guess you could say that not all of the Great Empire really supports a woman taking control over the most legendary empire of all of Essos,” he exclaimed, making Ria scowl at him from underneath her mask. “Regardless, my contacts have led me to believe that the figure behind this inevitable betrayal is Raqhis mo Ahzi, the Grand Steward of-”
“Why would the eunuch wish to betray the Empire,” Ria interrupted him, her words quick and spiteful, but also unconvinced and in part worried. “Not the Empire, just the Empress,” he corrected, making Ria just as doubtful of his claim, but he continued regardless. “There has been reports of the Grand Steward conspiring with the Ghiscari Empire. While I’m unsure what exactly the contents are of his messages with them, I have noticed an increase of Ghiscari activity in the Empire, specifically Asshai, but also here,” he stated before frowning in disappointment, “it would truly appear that the Ghiscari are not to be trusted.”
Ria stared at him coldly, making him sigh as he leant back on his stool. “I would like you to look further into this,” he finally revealed, to which Ria shook her head. “I’m not for sale,” she defied, but Jalhar just lifted his hands and shook his head. “I never assumed you were, but a regular sellsword or assassin could not complete the tasks I would wish upon them. A sellsword lacks stealth, and an assassin lacks any conclusion which does not result with the blood of their contract dripping from their blade. I believe you are neither of these, and that you would be willing to protect our future Empress from those that would wish to overthrow her, just as the Pale Lotus serves those in need on the streets,” Jalhar reinforced, rising from his stool.
“I know this is certainly strange and distressing news to be bestowed on you so soon, and forgive me for not revealing much more, but I must know if you are with me before I can say much else. I promise you I can explain more to you then,” Jalhar stated, and from Ria’s judgement, the plea on his eyes looked genuine, but she still felt unconvinced. There was no doubt that many of the YiTish nobles hated Raqhis; he was a foreigner, a eunuch and a son of a master slaver. However from what her father had told her, Raqhis had been one of the most loyal servants to the Opal Emperor during his years of service, why would he be any different for Mulan? Regardless of the question, it was her duty to make sure that the people of Tiqui were safe, that was the role of the Pale Lotus, and perhaps that meant nobles and princesses alike.
I think Ria doesn't need to put herself on conspiracies,Moreover if involves Raquis.
The Ghiscari is not the best of men but he clearly knows how to play the game and I doubt that Ria might be able to kill him.
At the end the girl will fall to the intrigue and the Eunuch will keep paddling .
Also that tittle Prince of Sulyra,never heard about the place nor the tittle.And that gives me bad feelings.
Ria
The Pale Lotus shed one final glance to the pained mother before disappearing into the night, the soft rhythm of footsteps darting do… morewn the neighbouring alleyway. Ria quickened her pace, swiftly turning a corner, and another, and another, until she was so distant in unknown territory that she had to slow herself. Her eyes did her little in the darkness, but she did not rely on sight during these little errands. Her ears listened for anything out of the slight that could be what she was in pursuit for. The darkness kept its silence, and Ria remained as still as stone as she studied her surroundings.
The alley she found herself in was barely two men thick, the kind where only cats and thieves lurked during the night, yet Ria was sure she wasn’t looking for a pickpocket or rodent. Minutes passed, and after a moment of reluctant decision, she bit her tongue and turned around. A rush of guilt fell over her as she thought of the poor girl… [view original content]
Ria
The Pale Lotus shed one final glance to the pained mother before disappearing into the night, the soft rhythm of footsteps darting do… morewn the neighbouring alleyway. Ria quickened her pace, swiftly turning a corner, and another, and another, until she was so distant in unknown territory that she had to slow herself. Her eyes did her little in the darkness, but she did not rely on sight during these little errands. Her ears listened for anything out of the slight that could be what she was in pursuit for. The darkness kept its silence, and Ria remained as still as stone as she studied her surroundings.
The alley she found herself in was barely two men thick, the kind where only cats and thieves lurked during the night, yet Ria was sure she wasn’t looking for a pickpocket or rodent. Minutes passed, and after a moment of reluctant decision, she bit her tongue and turned around. A rush of guilt fell over her as she thought of the poor girl… [view original content]
Oh yes, this was interesting, very much so! I feel quite bad for leaving that child, but still have faith in the mother that she'll be able to help, at least not less than Ria herself could have. And the scene we got has been super intriguing. These two women were unexpected to me. First they safe her, then they attack her when she tries to follow her. They could have guessed that much, eh? But the fact that Jalhar and his men were so close by makes me think that this was part of his plan, though he might claim otherwise. Speaking of him, I am really not sure what to make of him. One thing I am concerned of is that he could actually find out whom she is. He noticed the voice and is a presence at court, so if she makes a mistake, speaks to him or he hears her while they are there together, shit could really hit the fan. But what's done is done, she has to be cautious though.
[Agree to help Jalhar]
A hard choice, surely. I must admit, I do not trust Jalhar one bit, as it seems he just wishes to capitalize from the Pale Lotus image, gaining what he wants through her, or at least gaining a scapegoat if things don't go his way. To say I'd trust Raquis would not be quite true either, so I am not exactly opposed to help Jalhar either. Who knows, maybe he is actually hiding something and while I doubt Jalhar's motives are altruistic, that does not mean that Ria can't do some good with this. At the very least, it can't help to investigate into this. After all, Jalhar has not ordered her to outright murder Raquis, he has asked her to look into it. If she finds out that he is actually right with his assumptions, well, he can remove the eunuch for whatever reason, which would also remove a dangerous influence at court. If she finds out there is nothing to it, Jalhar can do with that as he likes. The main problem here is, I am not sure if she is in any way of refusing him, given that he kind of has her at his mercy and could always just decide to unmask her, to at least get rid of someone who can harm his schemes. Let's work with him for now, until we get a chance to find out what game he is truly playing. And well, if he finds out about her identity at court, which I consider to be possible at least, he could be more willing to keep it a secret if she has a use to him.
Ria
The Pale Lotus shed one final glance to the pained mother before disappearing into the night, the soft rhythm of footsteps darting do… morewn the neighbouring alleyway. Ria quickened her pace, swiftly turning a corner, and another, and another, until she was so distant in unknown territory that she had to slow herself. Her eyes did her little in the darkness, but she did not rely on sight during these little errands. Her ears listened for anything out of the slight that could be what she was in pursuit for. The darkness kept its silence, and Ria remained as still as stone as she studied her surroundings.
The alley she found herself in was barely two men thick, the kind where only cats and thieves lurked during the night, yet Ria was sure she wasn’t looking for a pickpocket or rodent. Minutes passed, and after a moment of reluctant decision, she bit her tongue and turned around. A rush of guilt fell over her as she thought of the poor girl… [view original content]
I don't think she should just dismiss this theory. There might be something too it. She should investigate it. Plus, he isn't asking her to kill Raquis or anything like that.
Ria
The Pale Lotus shed one final glance to the pained mother before disappearing into the night, the soft rhythm of footsteps darting do… morewn the neighbouring alleyway. Ria quickened her pace, swiftly turning a corner, and another, and another, until she was so distant in unknown territory that she had to slow herself. Her eyes did her little in the darkness, but she did not rely on sight during these little errands. Her ears listened for anything out of the slight that could be what she was in pursuit for. The darkness kept its silence, and Ria remained as still as stone as she studied her surroundings.
The alley she found herself in was barely two men thick, the kind where only cats and thieves lurked during the night, yet Ria was sure she wasn’t looking for a pickpocket or rodent. Minutes passed, and after a moment of reluctant decision, she bit her tongue and turned around. A rush of guilt fell over her as she thought of the poor girl… [view original content]
Ria
The Pale Lotus shed one final glance to the pained mother before disappearing into the night, the soft rhythm of footsteps darting do… morewn the neighbouring alleyway. Ria quickened her pace, swiftly turning a corner, and another, and another, until she was so distant in unknown territory that she had to slow herself. Her eyes did her little in the darkness, but she did not rely on sight during these little errands. Her ears listened for anything out of the slight that could be what she was in pursuit for. The darkness kept its silence, and Ria remained as still as stone as she studied her surroundings.
The alley she found herself in was barely two men thick, the kind where only cats and thieves lurked during the night, yet Ria was sure she wasn’t looking for a pickpocket or rodent. Minutes passed, and after a moment of reluctant decision, she bit her tongue and turned around. A rush of guilt fell over her as she thought of the poor girl… [view original content]
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Nithral
The plains of Jogos Nhai stretched far and wide, with the Howling Hills and White Mountains in the west, the Leviathan Sound and Thousand Islands in the north, Yi Ti to the south and the Kingdom of N’Ghai to the east. They were camped by the Blue Sea, an inland sea just east of the Great Dawn Sea, and uncomfortably close to Tiqui.
Nithral Raeltheon sat by the water’s edge, a stern look on his light brown eyes as he stared into his wavering reflection. He was rugged, that much was certain, and certainly not familiar to the shepherd boy that had left the Valyrian plains all those years ago in search of glory and chivalry. Nor was he that, or much of anything at all.
The reflection wore his hair long and unruly, which was once light brown, but now weathered and unwashed, the grime and dust and turned his hair darker. It was coarse and knotted, and just reached his shoulders. His beard was of a similar situation, being coarse and dirty, but fortunately not as long as his hair length.
As for Nithral’s attire, he wore a grey quilted jacket, with a half-sleeved piece of dark grey gambeson over this, and a final piece of reinforced iron chainmail on top of this. Small iron knives and tools glinted off his leather strap that ran down his shoulder to his waist, predominant with his second sword, a gift from the Jogos Nhai, and a tusk horn.
Nithral frowned at his appearance, running his hand across the water’s surface, distorting the image. The cool water was a blessing in the heat of the green plains, and Nithral cupped his hands in the water, splashing his face to wash away the grime and muck that had gathered on him like soot. Wiping his hands on his trousers, he stood himself up, turning his gaze back to the Jogos Nhai camp.
“At least a hundred reside in this camp, all heading for war with Hyrkoon,” Nithral thought aloud to himself, listening to his Valyrian accent. Sometimes he just had to, as odd as it seemed, being surrounded with so many foreign cultures made a man forget his own, but Valyrian’s had a tongue of beauty, and one that Nithral did not wish to lose.
“War we win,” a confident tone sounded from beside him, catching the hunter off guard for a moment. Nithral’s hand instinctively hovered over the hilt of his first blade, a finely forged Andal longsword, a gift from a man he considered as a father: Ser Loren Nightstar. That was a long time ago, Nithral thought nostalgically, moving his hand back to his side as he recognised the young and unique Jogos Nhai tribesman.
Damien Dardowl, Nithral observed, not that it was a difficult pick. Damien, unlike the rest of the Jogos Nhai, was the only one in the tribe to not have the traditional pointed head from years of bindings at birth. Instead, Damien had a regular head, with long hair that reached his shoulders, and a face that was cleanly shaven. “Damien,” Nithral mumbled, forcing a smile onto his lips. The tribesman nodded in turn, crossing his arms and looking into the water.
“Bothering you?” Damien asked bluntly, his common tongue rough and foreign, but Nithral understood him well enough, and shook his head. “No, I was just enjoying the water before we head off,” Nithral informed him, to which Damien gave him a firm nod. “You fight with us?” the man asked, but Nithral just sighed and shook his head.
“We’re not warriors, Damien, we’re hunters. War is not our play,” Nithral stated, placing a hand on the warrior’s shoulder, but the man just shrugged it off. “Nightstar tell me of warrior time, say you were warriors of faraway king,” Damien argued, turning his gaze away from the Valyrian, causing him to frown.
“We were knights, yes, but then we were exiled. We are outcasts now, men who do work for coin. Fight for coin,” Nithral explained, but Damien just shook his head, keeping his gaze lowered. “No honour,” he muttered, a disappointed and sulky look on his eyes. Nithral bit his tongue, holding back from arguing with the man. He had been a knight once, taken the ancient vows and pledged his service to his king, but that had all been stripped away from him; his titles, his armour, his honour. He still held the morals of a knight close to his heart, but they were in foreign lands now, lands which cared little for those with honour, and men from the west had to adapt to survive. Nithral was not proud of the things they had done in order to assure they awoke the next morning.
“Where is Vesemir?” Nithral asked, steering the conversation elsewhere. Damien sighed, uncrossing his arms and turning to walk away. “Zorse,” he muttered in reply, heading back to the camp. “Jhat want to speak to you,” Damien added, leading the way. Nithral let out a sigh, running a hand through his thick hair, before following after Damien.
The pointed skulled people looked at Nithral with cautious eyes. Both Nithral and Vesemir were their guests, under their jhat’s orders, but they had no love for foreigners. The Jogos Nhai had warred with their neighbouring people for years, and the presence of a Valyrian and an Andal made no difference to this, especially looking vaguely similar to the Hyrkooni. However the respect the Jogos Nhai had for their jhat was commendable, and in favour for the travelling demon hunters.
“Nithral!” a familiar voice called, and the Valyrian turned to meet the pale blue eyes of his close friend and partner in crime. Nithral grinned, extending his arm to Vesemir as he approached, who grasped his forearm. “You ready to go?” Vesemir asked, and Nithral sighed, shaking his head. “Apparently Jhat Ugnak has summoned me in his tent, I’m just following Damien there now,” Nithral informed him, causing Vesemir to frown, and the two started to walk.
“No doubt he wants us to stay and fight for him,” Vesemir grumbled, scratching at his beard. Nithral shrugged, focusing on Damien ahead. “Is that such a bad thing?” Nithral asked nonchalantly, and for a moment Vesemir just chuckled, until realising that Nithral was being serious. “Nithral… They’re warmongers, they fight for no reason other than the thrill of it. The only thing stopping them from warring with each other is the fact their god forbids it. We’re not savages, Nithral,” Vesemir stated, eying Nithral with a worried gaze. “You’re not honestly considering going with them, are you?” he asked, taking Nithral by the forearm and stopping him.
Like Nithral, Vesemir was scruffy from travel and their poverty struck lifestyle. His once wavy black hair was now a site of knots and tangles with grime and muck, a trail that fell to his shoulders. He wore a loose black shirt, with a byrnie chest piece over the topic of it, the regular grey leather jack had been left off with the heat though.
Nithral sighed, shaking his head uncertainly. “I don’t know Ves, if they make an offer we could benefit from, it might be worth it,” Nithral stated in an attempt to sway him, but Vesemir just shook his head defiantly. “The only thing they can offer us is blood and death, just because the jhat gave you his sword does not mean he is your friend. He wants to use you, they know our past, Nithral, and we don’t want to get caught up in their pointless war. Especially against the Hyrkoon Kingdom,” Vesemir argued, making Nithral sigh.
“Alright, Ves. I’ll meet you at the zorses soon,” Nithral promised him, placing a hand on Vesemir’s shoulder. Still, the man frowned, but gave him a nod before departing. When he was out of sight, Nithral turned his gaze back to Damien, who waited impatiently for him at the corner of their path. Nithral gave him a wave, and the man continued his path, forcing Nithral to quicken his pace to keep up with him.
-
Jhat Ugnuk was a stern man, with squinted piercing eyes and an imposingly sharp head. Outside, Damien Dardowl waited patiently for hit jhat to call him, guarding the doorway so that no others may enter without permit. Nithral sat by the fire in the centre of the jhat’s tent, his legs crossed and eyes focused on the flames. Ugnuk sat opposite of him, sat upon a cushion that placed him above those that sat before him, as a jhat should be.
“Damien informs me that you are leaving,” Ugnuk started, hovering his hand over the flames tenaciously. Nithral nodded, crossing his arms and lifting his gaze to the jhat. “Yes,” Nithral confirmed, “your hospitality has been most appreciated, we won’t forget it,” Nithral assured him politely, making Ugnuk chuckle. “No, I’m sure you won’t.” Nithral raised an eyebrow, but didn’t question him.
After a moment of silence, Nithral finally realised that Ugnak wanted his sword back, and without another moment he unsheathed the weapon and rested it in his palms. “You will be needing this back for your war,” Nithral stated, offering Ugnak the sword, but the jhat just gazed at the Valyrian strangely. “It is disrespectful to return a gift in Jogos Nhai, is this not the same elsewhere?” Ugnak questioned him, and Nithral gulped awkwardly, lowering his gaze.
“It is,” Nithral answered carefully, and Ugnak nodded. “The blade is yours, use her well,” he implored, rising from his seat and tucking his arms behind his back. “You know so little about our culture, our traditions. Tell me, sheep herder, what do you think of when I say Jogos Nhai?” Ugnak asked, the curiosity on his tone sounded genuine, and Nithral was at a loss for words.
“War,” he finally uttered, thinking of Vesemir’s words. Ugnak smiled, nodding. “Yes, we are a warring people, but what else?” he ushered, and after a moment of further thought, Nithral shook his head clueless. “So, what makes the Jogos Nhai any different to the Dothraki? Other than the obvious birth bindings and differing steed breeds,” Ugnak asked, and once again, Nithral shook his head, stumped.
“I worry that you are leaving with a wrong impression on our people. That you think we are the ‘bad guys’ here, and not the Hyrkooni,” Ugnak stated, crossing his arms, but Nithral just sighed. “There is no good or bad, just men,” he muttered, this much he knew. Ugnak frowned, his gaze scanning Nithral up and down.
“Damien Dardowl, it doesn’t take a genius to see he is different to the rest of us,” Ugnak stated, taking his seat again. Nithral nodded, glancing back to the doorway of the tent cautiously before turning back to the jhat. “His father was a farmer, a man that spat on our ancient traditions. Still, he had the freedom to do as he pleased with his life, and none of us questioned his abilities as a farmer. Yet when he started forbidding his son’s wishes to become a warrior, then it began to be a problem.”
“You see, the Jogos Nhai are a proud people, and while we are a warring race, we do not fight for the sake of it. No, we fight for our freedom, and prevent those who would try to take it away from us. We do not fight among ourselves though, this is forbidden, no matter the cost. Yet what should we treasure more, law or tradition?” Ugnak asked rhetorically, and Nithral waited patiently for him to continue.
“Damien later pursued his interests to become a warrior with his uncle, and his father… He became outraged with his son, taking a shovel and hitting his brother over the head, killing him instantly. He then blamed his son. In our culture, we are forbidden to kill another man from Jogos Nhai, to even think it is sin. So when Damien was brought to trial before me, I saw that his father was judged as well. When he later admitted to his crime, I had him banished from Jogos Nhai, stripping him of his lands and zorse. He was to walk the plains of Jogos Nahi for eternity.”
“You know what he did? Murdered another of his kin, stole their zorse, and rode for the Kingdom of Hyrkoon, where he encouraged further death onto our people. Now we march against them, our ambitions clear, we fight to defend our people, our lands, our freedom. Tradition says we are not to kill our own people, but before this war is over, I will have the head of that outcast, and King Hyrkoon. I know both you and Vesemir were once knights of the foreign kingdom in the west of these lands, and that you do not want to fight for us because you believe we are savages…” Ugnak stated, but Nithral shook his head.
“You are not savages, there is just no benefit to us getting involved in a war that has nothing to do with us,” Nithral explained, causing Ugnak to sigh. “If it is wealth you want, you can have it. When we raid their homes and take back what is ours, we will give you the loot. Jogos Nhai do not lust for trinkets and shiny things like you men west of the Mountains,” Ugnak stated, causing Nithral to frown.
“Not all men lust for coin west of the Mountains, especially not where I come from,” Nithral claimed, to which Ugnak smiled. “Then teach me. Fight with me, be my ally,” Ugnak pleaded, staring at the Valyrian through the dancing flames. Nithral frowned, thinking of Vesemir’s words. What would he think if I accepted?
[Accept Ugnak’s offer] [Refuse Ugnak’s offer]
[Accept Ugnak’s offer]
I guess if we want to see more Nithral, this is the vote to go with? :-) I enjoyed his perspective and would like to see what his skill in fight is.
[Refuse Ugnak's offer]
The other option would be highly dangerous. Plus, he already told Vesemir that he wouldn't. If he takes the offer, Vesemir might leave.
Ps: This character was very similar to a character I was planning to eventually submit, to the story. I was seriously planning to create and submit a valaryian adventurer that left his life of shepherding, when he was younger, to go on adventures etc... However, I have a couple other ideas for characters that I'm hoping I'll be able to submit today. Hopefully, somebody has not created similar characters to them.
Ps: Just so you know, I sent you a pm.
Ah, damn it, it appears I have underestimated the wounds of the child and overestimated the ability of the mother to get help for her. Well, that makes me a bit conflicted, but I am not sure how much Ria could have done for her either way. Probably not more than the mother, but now I am concerned that we might have chosen wrong already. But hm, at least we might find out more about this mysterious saviour.
[Accept Ugnak’s offer]
I want to see his fighting skill and I also agree with Mathea.I like to see how cool he is and I want to know more about Jagos Nhai
Ashame I cant participate in the last choice about chasing or not
Gotta be quick!
Nah the voting was looking pretty clear at that stage, and regularly I would leave the choice open for a day or two before finalising the votes, but as I'm still unsure about my reader base, I just closed it when the votes stopped rolling in. Not to worry though, I'll be sure to wait for you now 
No No I didnt mean that,U dont have to wait for me.I was just on a vocation for 2 days.So I think I will inform u when I will off for sometime.Just dont wait for me.If it takes too long I think I will be guilty
No worries, I'll likely keep the votings open a little longer now though anyway, so you should have some more time to vote
Oh that will be nice
[Accept Ugnak’s offer]
Took me a bit to decide on this, but I believe this will be for the better. Well, both options could lead to interesting options, but I am intrigued by the Jogos Nhai and would like to learn more of them. Surely, Vesemir will not be pleased in the slightest but hey, this sounds so intriguing that I will not miss out on the chance to learn more of them. So, let's see what comes out of this
I saw that coming mate...
[Refuse Ugnak's offer]
I see what are you trying to do here...The humanising of the Jogos Nhai doesn't make me empathize with them.
Ugnak claims that they're no different to the Dothraki but to me they are pretty similar,Both make people of close lands suffer with their constant plunderings and raids.They attempt to conquer other Kingdoms before so now is they turn to be on the other side of the coin.
[Refuse Ugnak's offer]
They build their freedom at the cost of others, Ugnak's reasons are not enough to me.
[Accept Ugnak’s offer]
[Refuse Ugnak's offer]
And the Voting is Closed! Nithral will accept Ugnak's offer. This will certainly lead to some interesting interactions with the Valyrian and the Jogos Nhai in the future, but how Vesemir will take to this might be another thing entirely. This vote was a tie, and naturally I'll hand this choice to the submitter of the character if that happens, but as Nithral is mine, and there are other factors effecting this vote, this is the choice that Nithral will go with.
At any rate, the newest part is ready, and it's a Dickon part. Last time we saw him was in the prologue, and he was stranded on a wrecked vessel bound for Qarth.
Dickon
The wrecked ship rode onto the shore with a swift bump to a halt, pulling the wreck on its side to find its balance. The former slaves had only just found their legs when the Qaathi guards were upon them, atop their camels with their scaled copper armour shining ever so valiantly in the morning sun.
The shipwrecked crew were ushered off into separate groups, some taken to the cells, others to the gallows, and the rest to the slave auctions. Dickon stood amongst this group, a brass collar around his neck, connected to the shackles around his wrists and ankles via gilded iron chains. His narrow muscular body was bathed and powdered, and he stood amongst the strongest and handsomest of the slaves from the ship, none of which Dickon had gotten to know during their time adrift.
“Come forth, call a price for this healthy and young Andal, son of a knight!” the slaver auctioned, ringing his bell to gain the attention of the crowd. “Four coppers!” an old man yelled, and the slaver smiled. “Starting price: four coppers!” there was a moment of silence, and the slaver glanced over the murmuring crowd before clearing his throat. “Sold!” he announced, pushing the shackled Andal down into the crowd, where he was escorted by the guards.
The slaver turned his glance to the next man, his skin tanned and his muscles thick and defined; and detailed with scars. The slaver took him by the arm to bring him forward, but the slave nudged him off effortlessly, and he was brought forward by the guards under spear point. “How about this Dothraki? Strong and obedient, perfect for a-” the Dothraki spat on his face, but showed no retaliation.
“Naqis mahrazhkem drivolat imesh,” he smirked, to which the slaver scowled at him. “Any takers,” he muttered aloud, to which the crowd remained silent. “Put him over there,” the slaver ordered, wiping away the saliva from his cheek. The guards followed his order obediently, but the Dothraki did not, causing him a harsh beating; which no one seemed to notice. The slaver continued his auction, now walking to Dickon, who glared long and hard at him.
“This one is a Westerosi, and a royal one too. Castle born and castle trained! A perfect bed-warmer,” the slaver chuckled, and the crowd joined him in laughter, drowning out Dickon’s low growl of ire towards them. “Any takers?” the slaver called, but Dickon gritted his teeth. His hands trembled, and as he stared at the distracted slaver, he made his decision. I won’t do it again. Without further hesitation, Dickon kicked at the slaver’s knee, making him collapse under the sudden jolt, and he wrapped his shackle chains around his neck.
The man gasped, and with him the crowd followed, attracting the attention of the guards that kicked the Dothraki to a pulp. They yelled at him in their language, one which Dickon was only just starting to understand, but a foreigner could understand what they were saying in a situation akin to this. Dickon didn’t stop until they were finally on him, side-stepping just in time to miss the lunge of the first guard’s spear. He would have dodged the second too, had the chains around his ankles not tripped him.
He landed on his arse with a solid thud, pain thrusting up his back, but there was no time to yearn over it, as a spear thrust between his legs, sticking into the wood. The second attempt Dickon managed to parry, using this chains as a shield, which he then wrapped around the shaft and successfully disarmed the man. By the time had had a secure grip on the spear, the crowds split to allow for reinforcements to charge through, all yelling at him to drop his weapon. Dickon bit his tongue, watching as the outnumbering power surrounded the raised platform, and the point of the other guards spear pressed into his ribs.
Reluctantly, Dickon dropped the spear, and received a punch to the back of the head by the man behind him. Dickon fell to the ground, and the point of the guard’s spear followed him down, hovering just over his neck as its owner asked for his master’s permission. The slaver rubbed his neck, the print of Dickon’s chains reddened around his throat. “You piece of shit, I hope it was worth it,” he spat, before nodding to the guard, who lifted his spear to execute him.
“I’ll take him,” a man called, pushing his way through the crowd, and only merely stopping the now agitated guard. “And the Dothraki too,” the man added, revealing himself from the crowd, who gasped at his presence. It wasn’t long until Dickon spotted his gaze, a smug smile spread across his lips.
“Prince Rhaedon!” the slaver exclaimed in a gasp, his eyes widened, and the crowd shared his shocked expression. The man smirked, crossing his arms. “How much?” he asked, his sly tone making the slaver gulp. “I, urm… Four silver marks for the Dothraki,” the slaver uttered, rubbing his neck before turning his gaze to Dickon, greed appearing in his eye. “And two gold pieces for the Westerosi, for the trouble he has brought me,” the slaver grinned, and Dickon gritted his teeth, but was held down by the foot of the guard. Rhaedon rolled his eyes.
“Twenty silver marks and my best camel,” the prince bargained, and after a moment of thought, the slaver nodded. “They’re yours,” he agreed, but before passing Dickon over, he pulled his cock out to piss in his ear. “As for my golden pieces,” the slaver remarked, evoking some laughter from the recovering crowd. He turned his attention to the guard, who he gave a final nod to, and without another moment Dickon’s gaze instantly fell into darkness.
-
Dickon awoke in a room of magnificent architecture, foreign to the designs of the castles of Westeros, but certainly not lacking in excellence. The room was a pallet of colours, the chiselled and polished quartz walls, the marble floor, the painted ceiling… Dickon rubbed his eyes to assure he wasn’t seeing from his sleep, and his eyes confirmed that what he saw was true.
The West Wolf pulled himself up, feeling his head heavy and retaliating to the movement, a large bump on the back on his head. Dickon groaned as he placed a hand on the back of his head, cursing as he winced at his own touch. The guard had struck him hard, and in rightly so, but the West Wolf would not go back to the fighting pits of Meereen. That’s where the unwanted slaves went, after they were abused in whichever way their master pleased of them, and then they fought. It came to a point where blood was no longer shed for survival, but for regular routine, like one would get out of bed the next morning. He lost part of himself in those pits, and he forbid himself from going back, yet now he was… where?
Dickon stood himself upright, his eyes unfocused and spinning as his head readjusted to the sudden movement, and his body leaned against the wall for support. His eyes trailed around the room, the windows barred and letting in no light except for that of torches and city lights. He presumed that the doors were barred, they always were for a slave. Dickon rested his back against the wall, sliding down to the floor and staring up to the ceiling, its portrait telling another tale.
A tale of death, from the appearance of it. The Milk Men of Qarth rode on their camels, spears piercing the men in spider silk and iron; fighting on the back of chariots. Dickon sighed, feeling no empathy for the lost souls that remained for a slave to gaze at. He instead wondered why he was even placed in such a lavish room, and an answer which would no doubt be answered directly, as the lock to the main door fumbled.
Dickon stared coldly between the crack of the doors as they were pulled open, revealing the merchant prince and two guards, which looked of Ghiscari descent. Dickon has seen many of the Ghiscari nobles during his time at the pits, and all had their personal guards that were handpicked from the Lockstep Legions, yet it surprised Dickon to see a Qaathi with them. The prince entered with a smile on his lips, his hands clasped and his gaze condescending, yet also inquisitive.
“Get up, slave,” he ordered with a nonchalant tone, crossing over to his window. Dickon groaned, feeling the bump on the back of his head which reminded him not to retaliate. Reluctantly, he pulled himself up, his head spinning as he finally stood on both feet. The guards gave him a stern glare, their hands tightly grasping the shafts of their iron spears; weapons they had made them revered over all of Essos.
“You must have many questions, I imagine. Where are you? Who am I? Why did I buy you?” The Qaathi presumed, but Dickon remained silent, his glare piercing at the man’s back. The prince sighed, turning his gaze from the window to Dickon, a look of disappointment on his eyes. “I am Prince Rhaedon Thoxi Rhos, a member of the Thirteen, and arguably the richest man in Qarth,” he announced, but there was no pride in his tone, no sense of achievement.
“Good for you,” Dickon muttered, crossing his arms. He received the scowl of one of the guards. “You will refer to the prince as Your Majesty,” he informed him sternly, readjusting his grip on his spear. Dickon smirked, turning his gaze to the Ghiscari. “Of course,” he smirked, now turning back to Rhaedon. “What the fuck do you want?” A small smile touched Rhaedon’s lips as he turned to meet Dickon’s impatient gaze, and his guards pointed their spears at Dickon in warning. “Go on then, fucking try it,” Dickon taunted him, walking into the point of the spear. The Ghiscari did not flinch, staring Dickon dead in the eye.
“You will find we are not amateurs, like your Qartheen friends,” the man informed him with a raspy voice, his arm steady and his gaze alert. Rhaedon grinned, clasping his hands again. “Captain Harnes, please, this slave is of no threat to me,” he assured the man, making Dickon raise an eyebrow. “What makes you so fucking sure about that?” Dickon spat in retaliation, and Harnes shook his head with furrowed eyebrows. “I’m afraid I agree with the Westerosi, Your Majesty,” he uttered with concern, but obediently followed his prince’s orders.
“Sure, he’s wild and untamed, but with some discipline he could become a useful asset,” Rhaedon stated, now approaching Dickon with ambitious eyes. “And a very powerful man,” he assured him, making Dickon scoff. “You don’t know me,” he spluttered in return, and the Qaathi nodded. “That’s correct, I don’t, but I would like to. The Dothraki had so little to say, but I blame that on his unfamiliarity with our common tongue. You, however, seem to have grasped a better understanding of it than he has, and I’m intrigued as to where you learnt it, and your story,” Rhaedon claimed, now joining Captain Harnes’ side.
He waited patiently, as if expecting something from him. Dickon gritted his teeth, flicking his gaze between Prince Rhaedon and Captain Harnes. The only expression he could read was disdain, and that was from the Ghiscari. As for the Prince, he was at a loss, and that worried him. Why did he want to know so much about a slave? Dickon was reluctant to share such information with any man, but especially a master, the risks were too great. Though with that being said, if the Prince was honest with his intentions, this could get Dickon closer to his destiny. Dickon bit his lip, staring into Rhaedon’s cold eyes.
[Tell him your story] [Remain silent]
I know, I know, Dickon's a great guy and likely a good contender for my favourite PoV, but in celebration of the absolutely spectacular latest Thrones episode, this was a chance that had to be taken
I do enjoy him and the entire part though, that was quite a twist, with him becoming a slave again. This Rhaedon fellow, I am not sure what to make of him yet though. I wouldn't say I trust him, especially not given that he's Dickon's new master, but he seems to have ulterior motives and maybe we can profit from that.
[Tell him your story]
Well, two reasons there. For once, I would like to learn more of Dickon's story. We don't know much of him yet, but from the prologue, he seemed to be an interesting guy for sure. I wish to know more of why he chose to take on this journey. Second, if he likes it or not, this guy owns him. Wether or not he manages to escape might depend on how benevolent his master remains. Staying on his good side cannot possibly be a bad idea, regardless wether or not Rhaedon likes him more if he shares his story. In situations such as this, it's better to swallow his pride and work towards his goal in secret, instead of defying his master from the very beginning.
[Tell him your story]
It doesn't hurt to do this to get on his good side. Plus, this can be his repayment for saving his life. Although, the main reason I want to pick this is because, I want to know his story.
[Tell him your story]
[Tell him your story]
Dickon is really a instresting guy.I want to know more about him and also there is no harm telling this.So I am going with telling the story
[Tell him your story]
Why not?Dickon is already a slave and perhaps if he gets along with this Prince,he could a chance of being released mayhaps?
Moreover not getting along with him can only mean tortures and such to poor Dickon.
Dickon
Hey Liquid, I was wondering if you saw the recent pm that I sent you.
Hm, I'm afraid I have not. I get a lot of PM's or notifications, so at times I do not manage to see a PM and since Telltale is putting as much work into this site as they put into Thrones Season 2, I cannot access older notifications. Can you send it to me again, or bump it if you still have the link in your browser history?
And the Voting is Closed! Dickon will choose to tell his story. Certainly not a con of a choice as it gives some insight into Dickon's character, and perhaps explains why he is the way he is, but telling this to a man possible of manipulation, especially being his slave master, could be another thing entirely. We'll catch up more on that soon.
I'd like to announce that I hope to get the next part done today, which would be a Mulan part. I'd also like to inform you guys that I'll be pretty quiet in activity as of Wednesday until Saturday, as I've got a little trip I need to attend to, and when I get back I'll likely be needing to attend the truck load of work piling at my feet, so I apologise if I don't get another part out after Mulan's for another week or so (really hoping I can get Mulan's finished today
)
Mulan
The Amethyst Princess took the weight off her legs as she sunk towards the floor, kneeling at the low dining table that seated many of the royal Jidao’s and members of the court. The familiar faces of Chancellor Ji, Zhen Ju and Raqhis could be spotted around the table, while others sat between them. This consisted off the familiar Prince Jia Jidao, Princess Fei Min Jidao, Princess Koko Lin Jidao and Prince Jing Cha Jidao, all relatives to the royal line that carried the name from distant families, all warring among themselves to assure a better claim to the throne for their family once Mulan fell. It made her loathe her family members.
Perhaps the only graceful faces that sat at her table were those of the Wuhan’s, a loyal family that had always been close advisors to the Great Emperors of the Dawn, including her recently deceased father. Yang Wuhan was the Duke of Wu Chi, a dukedom just north of Tiqui renowned for their trade of saffron. His wife, Duchess Qiu, sat beside him with a warm smile on her aging lips, and beside her sat their eldest son: Shao Wuhan. Shao was a different man to his father, cocky and a gambler, but he had heeded his father’s teachings and become quite a successful merchant.
“Princess Mulan, have you decided on your dress for the coronation?” Princess Jing piped up as she sat patiently with her hands clasped, a gleaming look in her eye. Mulan sighed, averting her gaze from the more annoying of her cousins. “No, cousin, I have not,” Mulan stated, to which Princess Fei chipped in. “Mulan, you know how excellent a seamstress I am, allow me to make you a gown for the coronation!” she exclaimed in excitement, to which Mulan gave her a short and dismissive smile.
“Thank you, cousin,” she smiled, forcing it on for the appeal of the horrendous folk that called themselves Jidao. “I heard that the God Empress of Leng has been invited to witness your coronation,” Pricess Koko mumbled from her corner, looking to Mulan with nervous eyes, to which the Amethyst Princess gave her a warm and comforting smile. “I have extended an invitation to her, yes,” Mulan admitted, making Raqhis frown.
“A decision I still believe unwise, my Princess,” he stated with disapproval, making Zhen Ju roll his eyes. “Once again with the Ghiscari,” he hissed, making Raqhis scowl at him in turn. “Enough, you both know the rules as well as I do,” Mulan reminded them, to which they both nodded. “What occurs in the courtroom remains in the courtroom,” Zhen Ju remarked, tapping his finger on the table surface impatiently.
“My Princess, I must agree with the eunuch, I do not believe it wise to have sent an invitation to the false Empress of Leng. They are not our allies,” Yang sparked, reminding her of something she was well aware of. “And rightly so after you convinced my father to take the head of her great-grandmother,” Mulan stated coldly, sternly glaring at the man that had once served ever so faithfully to her father. He frowned, lowering his gaze.
“Their gods and their culture had been wiped when the Pearl Emperor added Leng to the Empire, and after a thousand years of service, they wished for their freedom, and the self-proclaimed God Empress of Leng knew the late Opal Emperor would not shed such kindness,” Chancellor Ji remarked, a saddened look on his gaze. Zhen Ju nodded, slapping his hand against the table.
“And the payment was made, for breaking the alliance she lost her head, and now Leng remains independent,” Zhen Ju stated in conclusion, but Yang only sighed. “And isolated from all trade, especially with our Great Empire,” he muttered, making Mulan sigh. “Which is why I have extended Empress Lerela an invitation, I hope to restore the alliance between the Lengi and YiTish once again,” Mulan informed them, making Yang raise an eyebrow.
“You intend to convince her to bend the knee?” he asked, partly astonished by his take on her claim, but Mulan shook her head. “No, Duke Yang, I believe terms can be found between both our empires,” Mulan stated, to which Raqhis sighed. “An alliance with Leng alone will not save our dying Empire,” he stated with a doomed tone, making Chancellor Ji frown.
“I have sent my emissaries to Hyrkoon,” Chancellor Ji assured him, but Raqhis shook his head. “There is nothing we can offer him other than your hand in marriage, which only a fool would think of, you should have heeded my advice to seek an alliance with the Ghiscari Empire,” Raqhis muttered, making Zhen Ju scoff.
“Yes, and what would you have us do next? Enslave our children to manual labour? Crack the whip over the Great Dawn Empire?” Zhen spat, rolling his eyes, to which Raqhis glared at him. “No, I would not, but perhaps for you I’d advise it. It wouldn’t harm your son to lose some of those ham steaks from his belly, I’m sure he alone could feed the hordes of smallfolk outside our gates,” Raqhis mocked, crossing his arms. Zhen Ju arose from the floor, his eyes trembling with ire and his fists clenched.
“Outside, Ghiscari,” he ordered, but Mulan intervened before Zhen could further make a fool of himself. “QUIET!” she snapped, glaring at both of them with a menacing gaze. She watched her justiciar gulp before returning to the table, defeat and embarrassed. Her steward simply lowered his gaze from respect. “A marriage would not be out of question, Master Raqhis, if it would mean our joined empire and kingdom prevailed,” Mulan acknowledged, making Raqhis raise his eyebrows in shock, and even Zhen Ju furrowed his eyebrows.
“My Princess, by law that would mean he would have occupancy over the Great Empire,” Zhen Ju reminded her, to which she nodded. “And I would have just as much power over the Kingdom of Hyrkoon. It’s an option,” Mulan stated, making Zhen Ju frown, but he was given no time to argue as the guards to their dining room pulled open the doors, and two men entered.
A smile touched Mulan’s lips as she recognised the men that entered, accompanied by the golden guards of Tiqui. The Bloodstone Prince stood tall and proud, a smirk on his lips and his hands hidden in his sleeves, but they became revealed once he approached Mulan. “Sister!” he greeted, opening his arms in embracement. Mulan arose from the floor, accepting him into her arms with a warm smile across her lips. “Brother,” she mumbled excitedly, her voice muffled into his gown.
“Apologies I am late, I was caught up talking with our cousin,” he announced, extending his arm to the man in shining white armour, a solemn look on his face. “Jingim,” Mulan smiled, and the man gave her a respectful bow. “Empress Mulan, it is a pleasure to meet your eyes once again,” he complimented, making Mulan blush. “You are too kind, cousin,” beckoning him to sit beside her, opposite where Remi took his seat.
Prince Jingim awkwardly knelt down in his steel gear, unbuckling his gauntlets and removing his helm, revealing his luscious long black hair. Mulan admitted he looked handsome in his Dawn Guard armour, all white save for the steel chainmail around his groin and joints. His cuirass was embroidered with silver winding patterns, and his collar displayed that of a dove, the coat of arms of the legendary Dawn Guard of the Five Forts.
“Jingim had rode long and hard from the First Fort,” Remi informed her, marvelling over Jingim’s composure. “He has come on behalf of the Governess-General Xiang Wuhan,” he stated, turning his gaze to Duke Yang, who rose his eyebrows in surprise. “How is my daughter?” Yang asked, a touch of concern in his curious tone, to which Jingim gave him a firm nod. “She is well, my Lord,” Jingim assured him, yet his expression remained stern, and Mulan could see that there was something he had to say.
“Prince Jingim, as always it is an honour to have you at Tiqui, and an especial honour to have a member of the Dawn Guard in my halls,” Mulan stated, expressing her courtesies, “but you have travelled far and without notice, what may we do for you?” she asked, and Jingim nodded in thanks as he prepared himself for his message. “The Governess-General wanted me to inform you of the situation beyond the Five Forts. The Shyrke raids are becoming more common with each new moon, and the Skorpin’s chants have grown louder over the last week, almost audible from the Forts,” Jingim stated, much to the amusement of Zhen Ju.
“Shrykes and Skorpin’s,” he remarked with a grin, “are there ghouls too?” he mocked, receiving the glare of Yang and his wife, but Jingim paid him no mind. “What’s worse is that we’ve received a report from the Kingdom of N’Ghai. Apparently their hunters have seen activity grow in the Grey Waste,” Jingim added, a look of worry on his eyes. “What kind of activity?” Remi asked, his tone sounded amused, but also intrigued. Mulan could not tell if he was honest or not, but did not wait to find out.
“Jingim, I appreciate your tongue for tales, but I do not appreciate people wasting my time, especially now that I am to become the Empress,” Mulan stated, making Jingim frown. “My Princess, please. I know my daughter well, she would not lie about such things,” Yang stated in support, making Zhen Ju roll his eyes. “The Dawn Guard are disillusioned, following an order formed from an emperor that built the Five Forts out of paranoia of the gods. No offence, boy,” Zhen Ju stated, giving him a short and apathetic smile. Raqhis sighed.
“Even if this is true, my Princess, there is nothing we could do in our position. Perhaps it would be wise to seek out more information from this however,” Raqhis suggested, to which Jingim spoke up. “Xiang thought this would be the case. Cousin, if you do not believe my word, then accompany me back to the First Fort, and see for yourself whether I tell the truth,” Jingim pleaded, making Mulan frown.
“It sounds like a gamble to me,” Shao observed, his voice intrigued, but his father cut in before he could examine the situation further. “My Princess, please, think of what your father would do. Such a risk should not go unwarranted, especially if my daughter is concerned about it,” he stated with worry thick through his voice, but Chancellor Ji shook his head.
“My Princess, with all due respect, we have enough concerns here to be getting ourselves caught up in matters of hocus pocus,” Chancellor Ji argued, to which Remi cleared his throat. “Send me, Sister. I am certainly intrigued as to this matter, and unlike you, I don’t have an empire holding me back,” he smirked, but Jingim frowned. “She asked specifically for you,” Jingim stated, mentioning it to her only loud enough for she and Remi to hear.
Mulan sighed, turning her gaze across the dining table. Chancellor Ji showed complete disapproval of the matter, while Yang showed heavy concern for the opposite. Her gaze fell upon the Jidao’s, sitting silently and awkwardly, uselessly. Everything is happening so fast, can I really spare the time for a gamble? Mulan thought to herself, but there was a look in Jingim’s eye which she could not help but worry for. She turned her gaze to Remi, who awaited her decision, clearly hoping for the adventure.
[Agree to go with Jingim] [Send Remi in your place]
[Agree to go with Jingim]
That was certainly hard choice to make, especially that indeed Mulan needs to look after whole Empire, but this is also why I decided to go with this one. If to have a little adventure, if not now, then when? :-)
[Send Remi in your place]
She is far to busy to go there. She needs to maintain order in the court, run the empire, and prepare for the coronation. I'm sure Remi will be able to tell her if Jingim and the Governess-General are telling the truth.
[Agree to go with Jingim]
So, my main concern here is that I do not trust Remi, for obvious reasons. I am not sure if it is better to let him go where he wants to go, or to let him stay in the heart of the Empire, where he can do gods know what. In the end though, I think there are arguments even beyond a distrust for Remi when it comes to go with Jingim, on account of the governess-general having specifically asked for her. I am sure she knows how important the empress is, on account of having a very high position herself, meaning that she definitely would not dare to waste her time with nonsense if there wouldn't be a very good reason.
Send Remi in your place
Mulan has a much work to do he can't leave the kingdom before getting his own job done.Remi can be the trusted person
[Agree to go with Jingim]
[Send Remi in your place]
I agree with Raquis this time,the Empress of a huge country like Yi-Ti can't afford to go personally to a location cause of the rumors around.Of course Remi could betray her but when you are the head better not risk yourself if Milan does that would be worst thing for the empire falling into a weak position and heritage problem.
It's better to focus on the possible alliances the Empire can get,The Wights can wait...
I'm just writing a comment here so this thread will stay in my feeds.
Well it looks like we've come to a tie, and it's going to be a difficult one for me to break, especially since it's somewhat unfair to go off which vote reached the highest first in this situation
Well given that Mulan is my character, and I know some things you guys do not, I'm going to close the vote with Mulan sending Remi in her place.
I do hate to close the votings like that, it feels seriously unfair and hopefully as the story progresses we'll get more readers to hopefully prevent that
Anyway, I have the next part ready, which goes to our other Jidao PoV: Ria. The last time we saw her she had a chat with Old Mei, as well as her father about marriage avenues, and then concluded her first part as revealing her second identity as the Pale Lotus, and helping the smallfolk from those who try to endanger them. In the last part, this danger was three whoresons looking to rape a little girl and her mother, something which Ria merely prevented, and received some unknown assistance with. You guys chose to have her pursue this unknown helper, and this new part picks up where the other left off.
Ria
The Pale Lotus shed one final glance to the pained mother before disappearing into the night, the soft rhythm of footsteps darting down the neighbouring alleyway. Ria quickened her pace, swiftly turning a corner, and another, and another, until she was so distant in unknown territory that she had to slow herself. Her eyes did her little in the darkness, but she did not rely on sight during these little errands. Her ears listened for anything out of the slight that could be what she was in pursuit for. The darkness kept its silence, and Ria remained as still as stone as she studied her surroundings.
The alley she found herself in was barely two men thick, the kind where only cats and thieves lurked during the night, yet Ria was sure she wasn’t looking for a pickpocket or rodent. Minutes passed, and after a moment of reluctant decision, she bit her tongue and turned around. A rush of guilt fell over her as she thought of the poor girls that she had left behind for nothing, possibly still in danger. Ria slowly backtracked, feeling the walls that she had quickly scraped in her mad pursuit, investigating alleys and walking vaguely similar paths.
Her ears heard the soft wind breeze through the dark alleys, brushing against the walls and watering her eyes. She turned another corner, one which she found a weak flicker of light in. Her gaze lifted only momentarily to the lit lantern, sitting on a line that stretched between two windows, oddly placed and only recently burning. It was only then that her eyes spotted movement in the shadows, and her ears told the rest. Without a second thought she unsheathed her blade, entering a defensive stance as her eyes glared at the still shadow. Then she heard it.
It was soft, clearly intended to be silent, but there was much Ria’s ears could hear that most could not. The bowstring stretched enough for Ria to tense, freezing as her ears scouted the figure behind her, and her senses told her that the person she looked for stood behind her. “You shouldn’t have followed me,” the voice hissed, revealing itself to be a woman, Lengii from the sound of her accent. Ria exhaled softly, attempting to turn her gaze behind her, but the drawstring pulled tighter. “I wanted to thank you,” Ria explained cautiously, careful not to speak her identity, but the girl behind her only grunted in response.
“You’re the Pale Lotus,” she acknowledged sternly, to which Ria nodded, “I know some certain people which would pay a heavy price for your head,” the girl stated with a tone that seemed unconfident, something which Ria would use to her advantage. Without hesitation, Ria ducked and side swept the Lengii’s ankles, her arrow released as she tumbled, flying aimlessly into a wall. “Jia!” another girl screamed, this one smaller, her black hair in a loose braid. She ran towards Ria with a vengeful determination in her heterochromia eyes, one blue and the other green.
The woman tackled Ria to the ground, forcing them into a backward summersault which instantly split them apart, and while she was regaining her composure Ria was already back on her feet to strike her down to the ground. I just wanted to thank them, Ria thought with frustration as she lifted her fists to the approaching Lengii, who swinged her bow widely at Ria, long enough for the Pale Lotus to easily dodge the attack and quickly disarm the girl before she even knew what had happened. She finished the job by thrusting her foot into the Lengii’s knee, sounding a crack which made the girl yelp in pain.
Ria pulled an arrow from the Lengii’s quiver and nocked it to her bow, drawing it at the other huntress as she approached with panicked eyes, instantly halting as she noticed the arrow aimed at her. “Please!” she mumbled, raising her hands in defeat and falling to her knees, her glance flickering to the Lengii and back to Ria. “Please…” she barely uttered, tears forming in her eyes as she stared in plea, making Ria slightly release the tension on the bowstring. The agonising groans from behind the Pale Lotus made her consider mercy for the other, dropping the bow.
Instantly the girl ran to her friend, and for a moment Ria’s heart yearned to help, but only for a moment. She wanted to kill me, Ria reminded herself, holding her composure as she stared at the teary girl trying to assist her friend. The Pale Lotus shifted her gaze away from them, grabbing her sword from the ground and sheathing it into her sash, before then walking to the end of the alley, where another voice met her ears.
“In a rush, Pale Lotus?” it called out, only this was the voice of a man, and he sounded from the huntresses. Ria turned to meet the deep brown eyes of a nobleman, wound in a tight green silk doublet, and within his golden ringed fingers he held a steel kukri knife. The huntresses bowed beneath his feet, and before long Ria heard the sounds of marching footsteps, half-a-dozen men closing off the alley behind her, and just as many behind him, joined by a giant of a man with multiple burns across the right side of his face and body. His long scruffy black hair fell past his broad shoulders, behind his chainmail.
“Wouldn’t you like to properly meet those who you chose to hunt down?” the man asked, spoken with a domineering and deceitful tone. Ria remained silent, moving her hand to the hilt of her blade. She could feel the men behind her tensing up with this action, the sound of their spears lowering in preparation to strike. The nobleman smiled, twirling the knife in his hands and tucking it away in his coat. He extended both of his hands down to the huntresses, who hesitantly accepted his hands up.
“This beauty here is Jia Lai, quite short for a Lengii, but certainly not lacking in her complexion. And this… This is…” the man stumbled a moment, running a hand short raven black hair awkwardly. “Meirong,” the other huntress spat, to which the nobleman gave her a weak smile. “Meirong,” he repeated, “a huntress from the jungles of Yi Ti, clearly with an attitude,” he jeered, turning his gaze to Ria. “Of course, I don’t expect you to reveal your identity to these girls,” he announced with a smile, and without another word his giant approached her, slightly slouched under all of his armour.
“Shall I, Master?” the giant asked, turning his gaze to the nobleman with an awaiting gaze. Master, Ria repeated to herself, clenching her fists as she stared at the man through the slits of her mask in spite. He clasped his hands, shaking his head. “No, let her keep her anonymity,” he commanded, and the giant stood down, backing away from her. “Please, would you take a seat with me?” he asked, beckoning her to a couple of small wooden stools next to a small barrel. Ria watched cautiously as the man took sat himself down on the small stool, patiently awaiting Ria to join him.
Reluctantly, she approached the table, keeping her gaze locked on the giant who glared at her from his master’s side. Her gaze flickered just long enough to spot Meirong and Jia Lai taking their leave past the nobleman’s personal guards, leaving Ria to feel more in danger than she did before. Looming over the man, she reluctantly took a seat, her body concealed in the shadows, while the nobleman sat straight with the dim lantern light portrayed on him.
“Well, I’d offer you a drink, but I’m not sure how that would work with the mask,” he quipped warmly, a smile touching his lips as he concealed his chuckle from his dry humour. Ria remained silent, glaring between him and his giant body guard. The nobleman gulped, tapping his fingers on the barrel surface awkwardly as he followed Ria’s gaze. “This is Galor the Giant,” he stated, beckoning the man forward in introduction, “I’m sure I don’t need to explain how he got his title,” he chuckled, but Ria did not partake in his humour, now just staring at him with a cold gaze. “And I am Jalhar Zhad, Prince of Sulyra,” he announced, taking a short bow. Zhad, she thought, the name ringing a bell to her, but she was not sure where or why she had heard the name.
“I have heard a lot about you, the infamous Pale Lotus,” he stated, his gaze drifting off aimlessly, awe on his eyes. “I was hoping to find you, honestly, I’m quite surprised I managed to find you so soon, I-” he mumbled, but was cut off by Ria’s impatience. “What do you want, Zhad,” she muttered, making the prince raise an eyebrow in part shock and part lust. “My, what an alluring voice you have, even with that cover,” he marvelled, making Ria gulp gently under her robes. She was in part relieved that there was a mask to hide the tension that ran across her face.
“Straight to the point then,” he sighed disappointedly before giving her a firm nod. “I am here to attend the coronation of the new Empress, but I am also well aware of a plot that is rising against her. I guess you could say that not all of the Great Empire really supports a woman taking control over the most legendary empire of all of Essos,” he exclaimed, making Ria scowl at him from underneath her mask. “Regardless, my contacts have led me to believe that the figure behind this inevitable betrayal is Raqhis mo Ahzi, the Grand Steward of-”
“Why would the eunuch wish to betray the Empire,” Ria interrupted him, her words quick and spiteful, but also unconvinced and in part worried. “Not the Empire, just the Empress,” he corrected, making Ria just as doubtful of his claim, but he continued regardless. “There has been reports of the Grand Steward conspiring with the Ghiscari Empire. While I’m unsure what exactly the contents are of his messages with them, I have noticed an increase of Ghiscari activity in the Empire, specifically Asshai, but also here,” he stated before frowning in disappointment, “it would truly appear that the Ghiscari are not to be trusted.”
Ria stared at him coldly, making him sigh as he leant back on his stool. “I would like you to look further into this,” he finally revealed, to which Ria shook her head. “I’m not for sale,” she defied, but Jalhar just lifted his hands and shook his head. “I never assumed you were, but a regular sellsword or assassin could not complete the tasks I would wish upon them. A sellsword lacks stealth, and an assassin lacks any conclusion which does not result with the blood of their contract dripping from their blade. I believe you are neither of these, and that you would be willing to protect our future Empress from those that would wish to overthrow her, just as the Pale Lotus serves those in need on the streets,” Jalhar reinforced, rising from his stool.
“I know this is certainly strange and distressing news to be bestowed on you so soon, and forgive me for not revealing much more, but I must know if you are with me before I can say much else. I promise you I can explain more to you then,” Jalhar stated, and from Ria’s judgement, the plea on his eyes looked genuine, but she still felt unconvinced. There was no doubt that many of the YiTish nobles hated Raqhis; he was a foreigner, a eunuch and a son of a master slaver. However from what her father had told her, Raqhis had been one of the most loyal servants to the Opal Emperor during his years of service, why would he be any different for Mulan? Regardless of the question, it was her duty to make sure that the people of Tiqui were safe, that was the role of the Pale Lotus, and perhaps that meant nobles and princesses alike.
[Agree to help Jalhar] [Don’t help him]
[Don't help him]
I think Ria doesn't need to put herself on conspiracies,Moreover if involves Raquis.
.
The Ghiscari is not the best of men but he clearly knows how to play the game and I doubt that Ria might be able to kill him.
At the end the girl will fall to the intrigue and the Eunuch will keep paddling
Also that tittle Prince of Sulyra,never heard about the place nor the tittle.And that gives me bad feelings.
[Agree to help Jalhar]
Why not I guess, it sounds like more intriguing storyline for Ria.
Oh yes, this was interesting, very much so! I feel quite bad for leaving that child, but still have faith in the mother that she'll be able to help, at least not less than Ria herself could have. And the scene we got has been super intriguing. These two women were unexpected to me. First they safe her, then they attack her when she tries to follow her. They could have guessed that much, eh? But the fact that Jalhar and his men were so close by makes me think that this was part of his plan, though he might claim otherwise. Speaking of him, I am really not sure what to make of him. One thing I am concerned of is that he could actually find out whom she is. He noticed the voice and is a presence at court, so if she makes a mistake, speaks to him or he hears her while they are there together, shit could really hit the fan. But what's done is done, she has to be cautious though.
[Agree to help Jalhar]
A hard choice, surely. I must admit, I do not trust Jalhar one bit, as it seems he just wishes to capitalize from the Pale Lotus image, gaining what he wants through her, or at least gaining a scapegoat if things don't go his way. To say I'd trust Raquis would not be quite true either, so I am not exactly opposed to help Jalhar either. Who knows, maybe he is actually hiding something and while I doubt Jalhar's motives are altruistic, that does not mean that Ria can't do some good with this. At the very least, it can't help to investigate into this. After all, Jalhar has not ordered her to outright murder Raquis, he has asked her to look into it. If she finds out that he is actually right with his assumptions, well, he can remove the eunuch for whatever reason, which would also remove a dangerous influence at court. If she finds out there is nothing to it, Jalhar can do with that as he likes. The main problem here is, I am not sure if she is in any way of refusing him, given that he kind of has her at his mercy and could always just decide to unmask her, to at least get rid of someone who can harm his schemes. Let's work with him for now, until we get a chance to find out what game he is truly playing. And well, if he finds out about her identity at court, which I consider to be possible at least, he could be more willing to keep it a secret if she has a use to him.
[Agree to help Jalhar]
I don't think she should just dismiss this theory. There might be something too it. She should investigate it. Plus, he isn't asking her to kill Raquis or anything like that.
Oh yes, It was a awesome part
I enjoyed it very much
Agree to help Jalhar
I have to admit it was a hard choice.So I had to lottery on my own and choose the choice above