Forum of Thrones: An Interactive Story

InGen_Nate_Kenny · September 2017

Finally, it will be confirmed that Nain Anturion is in fact Aeron Blacksails.

there will also be a lot of new characters introduced in Chapter 2

Hm. Hm. Hm.

I am particularly looking forward for one part, which I believe might give me the chance to introduce over a dozen characters in a single part if all works out. But really though, it has grown and grown for the longest time.

This future part intrigues me greatly. Maybe a tourney at Raylansfair, maybe a murder spree to the tune of "Mr. Blue Sky". The world wonders.

Javier Raviolli · September 2017

[Kneel] C'mon, is this even a serious question? Please, not only she should kneel, but also shout: "DAKINGINDANORF!" while she's at it

All jokes aside, I see no reason not to kneel here. She should show respect to Torrhen, especially since she is the cousin of the enemy and all.

Nolonius · September 2017

Ooooh a tourney would be very awsome!

LiquidChicagoTed · September 2017

Finally, it will be confirmed that Nain Anturion is in fact Aeron Blacksails.

Indeed, there will be great confirmation at last. Not only is Nain Anturion secretly Aeron Blacksails, he is also Orys Baratheon, hatching a really nefarious plot to win the trust of Aegon and then take all his power. In his spare time, he's leading a pirate fleet at the Stepstones and a god-kingdom in Central Essos. Really, I hope I'm not spoiling too much by giving these little hints at the true nature of these three characters, who, after all, have never shared a scene before.

That being said, just imagine you'd actually be right all this time. I would probably eat my hat if I ever have to confirm that theory

This future part intrigues me greatly. Maybe a tourney at Raylansfair, maybe a murder spree to the tune of "Mr. Blue Sky". The world wonders.

Well, I can confirm it won't be a tourney just yet. Chapter 2 is not too far away and such a big event would have been mentioned by now. Of course, we only had two parts in Raylansfair in Book 2, but well, I think a big tourney such as that needs more of a build-up. But well, I got some stuff planned for later, stuff I am very excited for and a tourney might just be among them, as well as a means to introduce several new characters.

Lord_EAA · September 2017

Hey Liquid have you ever considered doing a trial of seven in the story?

LiquidChicagoTed · September 2017

Alright man, this just is the best thing ever. I got to explain something here, to you and the others. Namely, in my latest comment to InGen I originally wanted to off-handedly mention that I indeed thought about including such a trial at one point, though unfortunately forgot to write this thought down in the comment itself and now you come along and ask me that question, out of all the questions you could have possibly asked! Like, what are the chances? That is the most amazing coincidence since that one time in Season 7, where Archmaester Broadbent mentioned the Ironborn prophet/obscure background reference Lodos only days after InGen and me had a short conversation on the guy here in the thread

To answer your question, I have indeed thought about this, but am not sure if I have enough named characters I am willing to kill off at once. Sure, these trials don't always end with the death of all participants, but I believe there should be a serious sense of danger involved when announcing such a trial. I mean, it is basically a trial by combat multiplied by seven, with fourteen characters facing each other and in FoT, you can bet all fourteen will be named and developed, with some of them likely being well-liked as well. I... have thoughts into that direction. It might be a bit early to call them plans, but it is one of several thoughts I have in mind. It would be a set of parts that are guaranteed to be very hard to write though, as I doubt I could ever write a more brutal combat than that.

StarKing789 · September 2017

[Kneel]

LiquidChicagoTed · September 2017

The Voting is closed!

Raenna is going to kneel

While she might not pull a Greatjon anytime soon, this one will mean that she is at least willing to respect Torrhen as a king, probably even a king above her. Not kneeling would have been more defiant, detrimental to a potential work under his banner, so if you want Raenna to work for Torrhen for the foreseeable future, you have taken the first step. Not that I couldn't see this coming, I actually really expected this, but well, you have a talent for surprising me with your votes from time to time. This one was not one of these times and I think it is for the better

The next part should be out sometime later today. It is going to be an Arthur part, but there is a big chance that I will include a second PoV as well, as I am not sure if I can give Arthur a full part worth of content before having to come to his first choice. It is also a bit too early to begin the storylines of some of the other PoV's and Sadie, who will come after this next part, likely requires a full part, so I have to take some time to think about which PoV I wish to feature for the second time in Book 2. Has to be someone whose second part won't be too long before coming to a choice and that is really the problem here. Richard might be my best bet right now, though at the same time, I have an idea that would require him to have a full length part, so I really don't know. Actually, Jaron could work as well, or maybe Ysilla. Ah, I'll decide spontaneously once the situation comes up

Also, I am glad most of you have either not had such weird forum problems or found a way to fix them by now. However, this made me realize one thing, it might actually be a good idea if we are not necessarily restricted to the forums while they are as highly unreliable as they are right now. As such, I have this e-mail adress I would like to share with you. It is not my main adress, which I won't share in a public thread (given that there are surely some spam bots scanning the internet precisely for such things), but rather an adress I created specifically for this purpose. If any of you ever wish to contact me for something but cannot use the forums for it due to whatever reason, this one should be a good way of staying in contact: LiquidChicagoTed@gmx.de

So, I also would like to announce something. Some of you might remember the Anturion backstory written by @Lord_EAA a couple months ago. Well, he has returned and written a second part for this, which I encouraged him to share with you. I surely enjoy it greatly and hope you do just the same. Lord, go ahead, the stage is yours.

Lord_EAA · September 2017

Thank Liquid, I shall. Though its not really a second part its.....well you guys will see.

Lord_EAA · September 2017

They Who Ruin

It was to be that long ago, back when the people’s of the world still heard the name of the Ghiscari and trembled, that a tribe of men joined together and set upon a great quest. The god of their people had told them in a dream that he had seen their age coming to an end and wished to save his people from destruction. However, their god was not all powerful and could not tell what catastrophe would end them. Therefore, to secure his people he ordered them all to find his resting place in the world. In exchange, not only would he save them but he would give each of his faithful a gift far more valuable than any other mortal could possess.

And so it was that all the men, women and children in the tribe came upon their great migration. Decades passed, but still they continued. During their travels they found an endless lake to sail upon, saw stars none recognized, met strange and alluring people, saw marvels they could not comprehend, found lands that none had heard of…..but still they pressed on. In time, many of them grew tired and left the quest, disbelieving it or too enamored with one of the things mentioned in passing. Soon suffering overtook them, plagues, loss and famines attacked them during the years and still they found nothing. Even the most devout began to doubt ever fulfilling their quest. But after many years in search they found their god in a cave. He was as amazed as they were overjoyed, and grateful that they had arrived in time. As the cheers of the room died down raise his hand and spoke to them with a voice ancient, solemn and powerful.

“My most devout, I am grateful for your fortunate arrival. For you see it is soon that the ruin shall arrive to try and take you and I have foreseen that soon after it’s passing I shall cease to be and there shall be none but you to remember me. You who regardless of trial, sacrifice or pain were never driven away from your duty. Therefore, as a reward for your loyalty and wisdom I will now grant thee each a blessing. With the last of my power I will twist fate in your favor. From now on you and any children you bear will receive a gift that all men and women crave: beauty, wisdom, strength, power, respect, luck and all other skills that valued. This, my children I shall grant you.”

From the deity’s words a great cheer erupted, many danced and rejoiced and for the first time in decades, laughter and joy dominated their lives. There was however one who was unsatisfied. It was a black-haired man by the name Aedros and he was known by many for his cunning acts. He had always been a charming sort, who some women even found attractive. However, many who found his cheerful nature appealing were shocked to look upon him now and discover his mood so serious. Indeed, this man did not laugh or cheer or do any of the things that all others were doing. Instead of this a stern and cold look came from his face and with his arms crossed he approached the god and stood before him. As he did so the room grew silent as many wondered how a man could behave in such a way. Many felt he would at the very least kneel, but instead he just stood there in silence.

Finally, in a calm and serious voice Aedros spoke. “My lord it has been a great pain to overtake this quest. Many of us have faced violence, pain and suffering unimaginable to most. We were not the first to depart our lands in this search. Nor are we their sons, or their sons son’s. Perhaps for a god this means little, but to us it was far more difficult than any other thing. We have had to leave so many behind. The old too weak to walk, children tired or sick, babes we could not care for any longer without damage to ourselves and others. Many of these were our own flesh and blood, those we abandoned in search of this quest.” The people reacted to his words and sadness gripped the room and many of the cheerful became saddened and joyless.

He continued, making sure to be heard by all those present. “So much we lost along the way. And yet…” he said looking straight into the god’s eyes. “We are rewarded with the gift of trickery.” To this the crowd erupted into a fervor. The god’s blessing was seen as the greatest gift of all, and yet he dared to denounce it as trickery. Many screamed and insulted Aedros, who they saw as foolish or arrogant or both. He however was unfazed a turned before the crowd. “Fools! Do you not hear the sly of his words? Then allow me to reveal it. He has told us that he shall bestow these gifts so great upon us and our descendants. But let us reason for but a moment. What of us who shall live very little? The weakening old or the wild young. They may never live see to see their prize. What of us who are unable to give offspring? The barren maids or impotent men. Those who shall never see this bright legacy they are promised. And yet they too were with us, all the way we crossed. They suffered equally to us and yet they are not among those few who shall reap the benefits of this blessing. I ask you now, oh lord of my fathers. If you truly are kind and fair to give us a way in which we shall all benefit equally in this reward.”

The room was silent. Aedros compassionate speech had moved the hearts and minds of his people and soon they all began to agree with him and his words. Soon they all lifted their gaze to their god, who they now believe promised much but gave little. The god himself was amazed by this man’s reasoning and words. This was something that despite his many years in wait, he had never thought about. He remained pensive but as hard as he tried he could not fathom a solution to the problem. So instead he turned towards Aedros and spoke. “If you truly look to challenge me so boldly, surely a solution must have occurred to you.” To this Aedros replied with a small grin and then turned before them all.

“Indeed, I have been deep in thought and have found the answer we all seek.” He said before the astounded crowd. “For you see the answer is quite simple. Instead of each of us receiving the gifts individually, this blessing should be put upon us all. Therefore, if any of us were to parish their gifts would be transmitted to us as a people instead of lost. As we are all kin this shall give us comfort for any benefit of the blessing one was unable to rip for themselves will be given to those he has loved and cared for.” To this various nods were given, some of the rowdiest even began to cheer at his words.

The god remained pensive and silent, careful dissecting the suggestion presented before him. After much pondering and consideration, he turned before the crowd and spoke. “Very well, this shall be granted. From now until the last of you has fallen, you will receive this blessing as partners and once one of you is unable to reap it’s benefits their share will be spilt upon the remaining.” And to respond to these words came the brightest and loudest of cheers. All of them were once more happy and joyful. Even Aedros could not help but smile and rejoice as the blessing was placed upon them. Soon the celebration became more orderly and various tables were built to sit upon. The finest mead and wine they purchased for their travels was thrown around and soon songs and celebrations filled the room. The god felt joy in looking upon his subjects behave so merry and jovial. It seemed as if the night would never end.

But then it occurred. Someone, a man of average age and strong build began to cough very loudly, so much so that many felt it was rather rude. However, despite complains the man persisted and soon his coughing grew more vicious and constant. It became so bad that soon the man began to spit out blood and before anything could be done he slumped over the table, dead. The was a shock in the room and many began to scream. Some attempted to help the man, but to no avail, he was beyond help. Then suddenly a young boy seated next to his mother began to cough. Then a charming girl whose hand many sought did the same. Soon to their very horror many began to see themselves coughing. Screams of terror and wails of pain filled the room as men or women, young or old all began to fall and die. The god looked now in horror as the ruin he tried to avert happened before his eyes. Soon there were only two left alive. A young boy of blond hair and a man of black. As the boy turned to look at the other, two things brought to him the purest of horrors. The first was that the man was Aedros, the second that he was smiling. In but a moment the boy fell over dead as he now understood just how cruel and cunning Aedros was truly.

Now there was only silence as both the man and the god became the last in the room. The god’s expression was indescribable, though amazement was the only word one could say to define his emotion. Never had he conceived of such a man, nor did he ever dream that only one could bring about such destruction. Finally, the silence was broken by the man as he laughed gleefully. He calmed himself and spoke before the deity. “It seems that despite our provision, that only one shall ever reap the blessings rewards. It also appears that a man who can twist words is more powerful than he who can twist fate.” he finished with a smirk. “I shall remember this lesson and teach it to my children one day.”

The god looked upon the man and felt his own heart grow cold and wicked. Soon he spoke with a resounding and booming voice. “It seems both of these things ring true. As does the fact that even god’s may underestimate the evil of men.” he paused, feeling now his own end drawing near. “But regardless of these all these blessings and virtues you have received with my last breath I curse you and this world which has shown me such darkness.” The god gasped with his last breath. “For today you have shown me that in your heart you are a serpent. And so too, shall all your descendants be serpents.”

And with this uttered, the god vanished into dust and disappeared as if he had never been. Aedros seemed undeterred and simply filled his cup with his own bottle and began to leave the cave. Before he could however he heard a labored breathing. A single man it seemed had survived the poisoning and was now on the floor gasping for air. Aedros had never found joy in leaving things incomplete and so he took out his dagger and walked towards him. The man looked up and saw what approached him. He tried to plea, but this was answered with a dagger to the chest. The man looked at his killer in hatred and with the last of his strength, uttered his final words. “A…e…dros” he said in a solemn tone. “Anh……Thai…….Rion”. And with this he left the world.

Aedros laughed at his words. ‘Anh Thai Rion’ which translated from their tongue meant ‘He or She Who Ruins’. To the man this had been an insult, a curse. But to Aedros this had been the greatest compliment, a reminder of his life’s crowning achievement. Upon reflection, he grew rather fond of the term, as it also represented the fact that he viewed the world differently from most people. To them an insult, To him a pride. Therefore, when he married and founded his lands he took this name for himself and his children. And so it was that was born the name Anturion.

Edinosaur23 · September 2017

Holy Molly! So that is the origin of the Anturion family, and is pretty concerning for anyone who had misfortune of encountering them. Everything is so mysterious, their origins, which people they belonged to and who was this anonymous god. It seems they descend from people who fled the Ghiscari empire, which means they're older than Valyrians, and nearly as old as the YiTish.

LiquidChicagoTed · September 2017

Ah, I told you before, I love this part. It feels exactly like the kind of legend the Anturion siblings have been told over and over. That sort of explains a lot about their behaviour and I particularly enjoyed that mythical vibe of the whole story. After such a long time, nobody can say for sure what happened, if there ever was a god, why Aedros did what he did and the like, but this surely is a very enjoyable take on the Anturion backstory. And with Aedros, we can already see some of the traits shown by his descendants so many centuries later, so I guess he at the very least is a genuine historical figure embedded in this tale. That's what made this one so great, it really feels like the kind of origin story that has been told to someone such as Nain, shaping him in more than one way. So, thank you very much for writing this highly enjoyable part

LiquidChicagoTed · September 2017

Arthur

It was not the first time he had carried this crate or its contents, yet for some reason, it felt more heavy today than ever before. Arthur had thought he could walk the quarter mile without a stop, yet in the end he had to take several breaks, during which his arms ached and his breath had to come down.

The last two months hadn't been good on him, even if they should have been by all means. Even he had to admit, they sounded great on paper. He had gotten a promotion, only days after the raid. Commander Stratford had been in dire need of new officers and who could have been better suited than the son of a hero? Who indeed...

They had showered him with praise. The man that had tracked down Wolfius Woodbark. Didn't matter that the man escaped later. Didn't matter that he had killed more people after his escape. They needed someone to praise, so it didn't matter to them, but it did to him. If he was oh so well suited for this position, as Stratford assured him, why did he feel so hollow? Why did he feel like nothing he had done had accomplished anything?

His father was dead. The terrible realization of this had taken a few weeks to sink in, especially after the anger he felt after realizing that even in his time of dying, Hackor hadn't shown enough care to even just mention him. The anger remained, but now, a hollow feeling, one of crushing disappointment had taken its place.

His father was dead and the Nathamer siblings were grieving, each in their own way. In Arthur's case, it meant work, the same catalyst his father had already chosen so many years ago. The fact that he was painfully aware of it made it only worse. That said, what was truly terrible was that he knew the truth of whom he was serving.

Sherryl's final words, they were likely meant to do something good, her desperate attempt at making reparations for all she did. And while that might very well held some truth to it, she certainly hadn't done Arthur a favour. Knowing of the true nature of his superiors, while being left with little choice but to serve, it was a terrible situation, one that tore him apart.

Oh, he had thought about telling someone, but whom? Whom could he even trust with this. He himself had nothing but Sherryl's words and though the look in her eyes in her final moments had been enough to convince him, he knew others wouldn't be so trusting based on his words alone. He had thought about telling the king, but he wouldn't have gotten close to him, not without risking the wrong people hearing about this. And the king's man in Raylansfair, Ser Kasyn, he was hardly available either, at least not for someone like him. His father, he could have arranged a meeting, but Hackor Nathamer was dead...

Once again, his racing thoughts went to his father. And to his sister, the one both Nathamer men had failed. Hackor had been ignoring her attempts to hurt him, even when they became almost self-destructive. And now, with so much work to do, Arthur had the feeling that he did the same, or something close to it, that he was ignoring her. Or maybe she was ignoring him. Aditha was gone in the mornings before he himself left for his duty and oddly silent in the evenings when he returned. Between this, it felt like there was little left to say, but the crushing bitterness that united them both, disappointment for a father that had put so much attention to anything but his own children.

At last, Arthur had reached his destination. He stopped in front of the small house, frowning as he remembered the last time he had been here. It was partially because of these events that he had avoided this task for such a long time, but he could no longer. He was a captain of the city guard now and had to face his demons.

The other reason was the task itself, the contents of the box. He frowned, half out of exhaustion, half out of reluctance, though finally he pulled himself together and leant against the half-open door, pushing it fully open in the process.

He knew the room behind quite well and little had changed about it since then. There was still a counter, even if the exhibits the previous owner of this house so proudly displayed were gone. Fittingly, of course, given that the new owner had only been here for a few weeks, hardly enough time to make his own exhibits to attract interested customers. The shield above the door had been taken off, undoubtedly to be repainted, to show the change of ownership. A new era for Raylansfair, in more ways than one. Old faces were dead or had moved on, new ones came in their stead. A new Maester was on his way, a new Septon would follow eventually. And they already had a new lord...

The sound of metal hitting metal sounded from the backroom, where the dancing shades of fire showed that the man Arthur came to speak to was currently at work. He frowned as he moved through the room, placing the heavy chest on the counter with a groan. “Hello?”, he called and the noise stopped.

A man walked into the room. He was in Arthur's age and notably slim for his profession, more one for the finer crafts, yet his arms still showed an appropriate amount of muscle. Fair of skin, he had dark hair and a short, shaggy beard, as well as curious brown eyes. A friendly smile formed on his face as he spotted Arthur. “Ah, good afternoon!”, he greeted him. “How can I help you?”

Arthur sighed. “You're the new blacksmith?”, he asked and the man gave him a nod, standing firm, almost like a soldier, as he confirmed his identity. “Berrick Rivers”, he introduced himself. “I've taken over just a fortnight ago. Lord Vyrwel told me the city needs one”

“Yeah”, Arthur agreed, as a memory of Lyria crept into his thoughts. Berrick seemed to notice his frown, as well as his odd silence and he raised an eyebrow. “Is there a problem?”, he asked and after a moment of reluctance, Arthur gave him a nod. There was genuine curiosity in his voice and he decided there was no reason to keep this a secret from him.

“I knew the woman that owned this house before”, he sighed and Berrick's friendly smile faded. “I heard of what happened”, the young man replied. “I am sorry for your loss. Really, I don't seek to replace anyone in this community, hope that much is clear”

This time, Arthur forced himself to give the man a small, reassuring smile. “Nobody is claiming that”, he told him. “You're welcome here. We need a blacksmith more than most in these days” He put a hand onto his chest. “My name is Arthur Nathamer, I am a member of the city guard”, he introduced himself and paused for a moment. “A captain of the city guard”, he added reluctantly.

Berrick's eyes widened slightly. “Ah, it's an honour”, he said, before another curious streak appeared on his face. “So, uh, really don't want to bother you or anything, but... have you found the guy already? The one who, um, who killed your previous blacksmith?”

Arthur clenched his fists, avoiding to look into Berrick's eyes for a moment. “He's still on the run”, he confirmed. It was a truth that was hard to admit, that Wolfius Woodbark had escaped after he had been at their mercy, all due to Hackor's strict adherence to the law and Arthur's weakness to break it. He could have killed him. He should have killed him. Lyria and Urid would have still been alive, maybe even his father.

“He hasn't been active in two months though”, he continued, as he stepped forwards, placing his hands on the crate he had put onto the counter. “We... believe he has moved on” Berrick did not seem convinced and to be fair, neither was Arthur himself. It was an explanation Commander Stratford had come up with, on that was all too easy. He himself thought that the killer was only resting, that he was still close by, watching, waiting, biding his time to strike once again.

“Alright...”, the new blacksmith said. “So, what can I do for you today, Captain Nathamer?” He moved closer to the crate, inspecting it with a curious glance. Arthur sighed, as he opened the clasps that kept the top of the chest on the bottom. Pulling it open he revealed the reason for his visit. In this crate, he spotted a dented and damaged set of armour, dyed in green, the armour of his father.

Berrick whistled at this sight. “A fine set”, he complimented Arthur. “Whomever made this must have been a master of his craft. A bit damaged here and there, sure. Proven in battle, I assume” He placed a hand on the topmost piece of armour, the breastplate, his hands moving across the sturdy surface. “You want me to fix it?”

“Can you fix it?”, Arthur asked. “I know, I waited a bit to bring it to you, but I... well, I hope something can be done about it” Berrick narrowed his eyes, inspecting the damage on the breastplate. It didn't take him long to nod, much to Arthur's relief.

“I can do that”, he assured him. “I mean, I couldn't forge something like that, but fixing, that is easy” He looked up, still the same look of curiosity on his face. “Um, forgive me for asking so much. Really don't want to be nosy, but that is not your armour, right?”

Arthur gulped, before he shook his head. Berrick raised an eyebrow. “Then, whose is it?”, he asked. “Or... was it. I mean, you don't have to tell me, but that is one of the finest pieces I have ever gotten to work with. Don't know... I guess I would like to know more about its history. About the man who wore it once”

[Tell Berrick about Hackor] [Change the topic]

Ysilla

There was no time to think. Ysilla knew, if she'd hesitate, this boy would blow himself up and her with him. Who knew how much wildfire he had with him. Maybe enough to blow up the entire street. No, there was no time and yet, as she acted, a simple thought crept into her mind regardless. It was regret over what she had to do.

Yet there was no mercy. The first time the boy saw her was the last. She jumped around the corner, spear already raised and just as he spotted her, she had thrown it, hitting him in the centre of the chest. At such a close range and without any time to actually put much force into it, even a bit of armour would have probably saved the boy's life. Luckily for Ysilla, he was only wearing a thin tunic and the steel dug right through fabric, flesh and bone.

The boy's eyes widened and he only managed to utter a gasp as he was pushed against the wall behind him. Slumping to the ground, he was dead before he reached it, though to Ysilla's horror, a vial with a dreadful green glow slid out of his powerless hands. Knowing what would happen if the hot dornish sun would hit it directly, she almost threw herself onto the vial to cover it with some shade.

After a tense moment, Ysilla noticed that it was not going to explode. She looked down at it, entirely covered by shade, yet still surrounded by hot, dry air. Just a single spark... just a single spark and she'd be dead. Realizing this, it was perhaps the worst about this whole situation and her hands began to shake as she crouched down to pick it up.

Breathing heavily, she glanced at the dead boy and up close, it sent a sting through her chest, as she noticed that indeed, he was younger than her younger brother even. She knew there hadn't been a choice for her, but still, that didn't make it any better. It only horrified her more, as she had to imagine what this boy had to go through to become such a ruthless killer at such a young age.

Her gaze fell upon his victims. A man and a woman, likely a couple, or maybe a whore with her customer. It didn't matter, when all they wanted to was having a good time away from prying eyes. And the older of the two guards who had been accompanying her to this point.

“Lady Ysilla!”, the voice of the other guard sounded just in this moment. He was accompanied by two of the Suncloaks and there was a look of concern on his face that quickly turned to outright shock as he spotted the whole scenery. “Oh gods...”, he gasped. “Are... are you alright?”

Ysilla looked down onto her still shaking hands and she took a deep breath. “I... I probably need a moment”, she admitted. “That was pretty close” The guard gulped, as he spotted the vial of wildfire, safely tucked into the failed assassins coat once more. “Your first time killing a man?”, he asked.

To this, she narrowed her eyes, not out of annoyance, but because she felt tired and shaken to the core. “My first time of not wanting that talk right now”, she replied and she sighed. “Sorry, it's just... not now, okay. Give me a moment” The man gave her a nod and her eyes were fixed on the wildfire again. “How's the situation in the city?”, she asked. “Are things under control?”

This time, the man shook his head, with notable regret. “There have been some minor incidents. Three dead, though thankfully there was no wildfire”, he explained and clenched his fists. “Until now, at least” He sighed. “I have to report that back to Captain Razek... fuck, that cockless whoreson is going to whip me”

“We all have our lot to carry”, Ysilla said, swallowing down the rest of her sentence as she looked at what essentially was a kid she had killed. There was no amount of training that could have prepared her for that. It was one thing to fight her brother in a sparring match. Fighting for her live against a boy barely grown, that was something else entirely. Right now, she wasn't feeling so strong and she had to ask herself if Theodan had to do the same during his time in the Free Cities.

“Doesn't matter”, she muttered. “Take care of this. Make sure to inform Captain Razek and Master Jordayne about this incident and about the wildfire” Her gaze darted to the end of the alleyway. “I gotta find my brother and drag his sorry ass back to the keep”, she added, not without anger in her voice. She had told Theodan to stay, if only for Princess Meria's council meeting. She should have known better than to appeal to his responsible side. Arguing with Theodan was like arguing with a donkey, though the smell was arguably worse.

“And your spear?”, the guard asked. Ysilla glanced at the weapon, still firmly embedded into her young opponent's chest. “Take it back to the castle, make sure it'll be cleaned”, she replied. “Where I come from, entering a brothel with a bloody weapon is not the decent thing to do”

And with this, she darted down the alleyway. She would have been there by now, if not for Meria's guards to hold her back. That was one of the reasons she wanted to do things on her own. Her life, her responsibility. She knew how to keep it, how to protect herself, but the moment others became involved, that was when things became more complicated.

Luckily, the entrance to Watermont's brothel was easy to find. Located just beyond the alleyway she had just travelled through, it had a large door, the red light of a lantern illuminating it. There were no guards standing in front of it and why should they? The Shadow City was a peaceful place most of the time even if it saw more violence than it did in an entire year right now.

And so, she entered the building without anyone stopping her. The first she noticed was the darkness. The entrance hall, more a larger room, was only sparsely illuminated, the flames trapped beneath coloured glasses, painting the room in red and purple. And someone had made copious use of foreign spices. Her brief time in the Free Cities had made her more sensitive to the finer aspects of these smells. Some of them were distantly familiar even.

Those that couldn't afford a room for their activities had alcoves on the sides, heavy curtains giving them a sense of privacy and hiding them from view, though they failed to drown out the noises. Soft moans and outright screams of pleasure were mixed into one cacophony of lust. Ysilla herself always had mixed feelings about brothels. Her father hated such establishments. At the same time, Ysilla had spent most of her time in Theodan's company and he held different views, leaving her at least open for these kind of experiences. Still, she herself found paid love to be somewhat bland.

Of course, like every brothel, Watermont's had several men waiting for their turn. As one of the more famous brothels in Sunspear, it was overrun on hot days such as this. At least half a dozen had to wait on silken pillows that were lying on the ground in the corners of the room. Ysilla was paying them no mind, though unfortunately, they held things a bit differently with her.

Putting her head high, she ignored them, moving through the room without being bothered by their stares. If she wanted to avoid their glances, she'd dress like her sister, maybe cover her light hair as well. The room wasn't too big and she already knew where she was heading. Not bothering with checking each of the alcoves, or maybe the rooms in the upper floors, she was heading right towards the one door she saw as the most promising, as it was the only one that had two guards positioned right in front of them.

As she came closer, she saw that one of them was a tall man with blonde hair and fair skin, likely from the northern parts of Dorne. Bright, blue eyes were staring at her out of a broad, handsome face, though he was frowning. Armoured with boiled leather and armed with a short sword, he glared at her.

Next to him stood a young woman, not less attractive. They were related, siblings if she had to guess, as just like him, she had blonde hair and piercing, blue eyes of a certain beauty. There was a harsh streak on her face and she was keeping her hands on a similar short sword that was dangling on her belt.

“Hello there”, she greeted them with a smile, though only the woman was replying with a thin smirk of her own. “Sorry, girl”, she spoke. “That room is off limits” Ysilla raised an eyebrow, quickly studying their stance, their weaponry and coming to a conclusion. “And who are you to decide on that?”, she spoke. “You're not working here, that much is for sure”

Slightly impressed, the woman gave her a nod. “Will you look at that, she's as sharp as she's sweet”, she chirped and put a hand onto her chest. “Name's Jen. Jenelyne. The grumpy one is my brother Allar” At this, the man glared at her. “Jen...”, he growled, before looking at Ysilla. “That's none of your business, woman”, he growled. “If you want a meeting with Myriah Watermont, come back tomorrow. She's speaking to Lady Absidee now”

Lady Absidee... Ysilla put a hand onto her forehead as she remembered the information from the council meeting. “Of course...”, she mumbled. “Surely Meria's spymistress won't go anywhere without her meat shields” Allar narrowed his eyes. “I don't like your tone”, he warned her.

Jen flashed her a grin. “Well, I do”, she said. “But Allar is right. Today, Lady Myria is off limits, so come back tomorrow” Ysilla placed her hands behind her back as she answered. “But it's not Myria I want to speak to”, she revealed. “I'm looking for someone and I guess Lady Absidee can help me with it”

The siblings gave her curious looks and she made a gesture. “My half-brother, Theodan”, she answered. “Dark hair, brown eyes, the opposite of me and half as cute” She shrugged. “He's kind of a big shot here, so one of the women behind that door knows where to find him in here. And... I'm kinda in a hurry, so if you don't mind”

Of course they did and as they made no attempts at moving aside, Ysilla stopped and sighed. They were glorified henchmen and she was not in the mood to spend too much time with them. She had no doubts that demanding to be let through would work, insisting on her status and the importance of her task. She had a royal blessing after all. At the same time, that Allar was twice her size. Maybe this was one of the moments were diplomacy would be in order...

[Politely ask to be let through] [Demand to be let through]

InGen_Nate_Kenny · September 2017

This reads like a mythical Greek story, and I have to say, it's fabulous. This feels very culpable.

“For today you have shown me that in your heart you are a serpent. And so too, shall all your descendants be serpents.”

Hm....

InGen_Nate_Kenny · September 2017

[Change the topic] I don't trust this clown. He seems like a spy for Vywrel, or at least, an ally.

[Demand to be let through] They're aren't going to let us through if we at nice, let's pull the "Don't you know who I am?" trick.

“I knew the woman that owned this house before”, he sighed and Berrick's friendly smile faded. “I heard of what happened”, the young man replied. “I am sorry for your loss. Really, I don't seek to replace anyone in this community, hope that much is clear”

But you shall do. Anyone shall do.

Yet there was no mercy. The first time the boy saw her was the last. She jumped around the corner, spear already raised and just as he spotted her, she had thrown it, hitting him in the centre of the chest. At such a close range and without any time to actually put much force into it, even a bit of armour would have probably saved the boy's life. Luckily for Ysilla, he was only wearing a thin tunic and the steel dug right through fabric, flesh and bone.

The boy's eyes widened and he only managed to utter a gasp as he was pushed against the wall behind him. Slumping to the ground, he was dead before he reached it, though to Ysilla's horror, a vial with a dreadful green glow slid out of his powerless hands. Knowing what would happen if the hot dornish sun would hit it directly, she almost threw herself onto the vial to cover it with some shade.

After a tense moment, Ysilla noticed that it was not going to explode. She looked down at it, entirely covered by shade, yet still surrounded by hot, dry air. Just a single spark... just a single spark and she'd be dead. Realizing this, it was perhaps the worst about this whole situation and her hands began to shake as she crouched down to pick it up.

Counter-terrorists win.

Edinosaur23 · September 2017

[Change the topic] They just met, and I don't think Berrick is the best person to talk about it, maybe later. Although talking about it could help him sort his feelings.

[Politely ask to be let through] Maybe Allar isn't as dumb as he acts, and diplomacy seems the most likely option to work.

Myria Watermont and Absidee of Lys seem like interesting characters.

Javier Raviolli · September 2017

[Change the topic] Better not to get friendly with people who are paid by Petyr, especially the nosy ones.

EDIT: [Politely ask to be let through] After thinking about the choice a little bit more, I've decided to change my vote here. The situation might be bad in some parts of the city, but it seems to me like the brothel was pretty much left untouched. Like was said, we can afford to be nice here as things seem normal enough and if we don't get anywhere with diplomacy, Ysilla can still say who she is and that she has Meria's blessing. Appealing to her heritage right away is more something that her sister would do rather than Ysilla herself now that I think about it And besides, I really liked Jen from what we've seen of her so far, so I'd prefer to stay friendly here

Lord_EAA · September 2017

Well it is a legend. Like most families in Westeros, nobody really knows where the Anturions came from or who founded them. Well this is what they themselves believe, an ancient story that was told from parent to child for centuries. Its up to you to decide just how much of it is fact and how much is fantasy, if it isn't just one of the two. That being said if you ever asked an Anturion where their family came from, this is most likely their answer. At the very least they can all agree that it does perfectly capture their personal philosophy.

And as for who the 'people' they descend from, well that has always been a debate. A very common one being that, as you said, they descended from people who fled the Ghiscari (After all why mention them as at all as a historical marker if they weren't relevant) and the whole story was them trying to migrate to preserve their religion and culture. Then centuries later they were one of the peoples who joined the Andals in their invasion and took land for themselves. But there are many, many versions. The most infamous being when a member of the family claimed that Aedros was a first man who betrayed his people and god to the Andals and was given land as a result. This was so controversial, that it actually caused a civil war back in the day.

Lord_EAA · September 2017

Thank You, that was what I was going for. The entire story may be true, half-truth half lie or just mostly symbolical. Aedros himself regardless is seen as historical, and is regarded much in the same way Bran the builder or Lann the clever are by their respective families. Interpretation if the story actually lead to a lot of conflict and many people died fighting over what was true or not.

As for that quote, maybe it means something or maybe its just more prose. Maybe its foreshadowing, maybe you read too deep into things. Only time will tell.

Lord_EAA · September 2017

And again I am very grateful for that. Yep the story is so old nobody really know how much of it is true and even if, like you said, Aedros is considered by most to be a fully historical figure, that has not prevented conflict over it. In fact the Anturions got into fights over it all the time. Centuries ago when the Anturions were a house in Westeros they actually got involved in a civil war over it after one Anturion declared his interpretation: that Aedros had been one of the first men, who betrayed his god and his people for the Andals and was therefore rewarded with lands. Since part of the Anturions had for ceturies claimed Andal decent, many of them didn't take it that well. They were the one who won but its been so long since that time that nobody really cares about either interpretation anymore. But like you said obviously when the siblings hear it they'll all take it their own way and that's bound to shape who they are. And no problem, thank you for reading it .

Nolonius · September 2017

[Tell Berrick about Hackor] I don't see a problem with that.
[Politely ask to be let through] Always be nice at first afterwards she can still tell them who she is.

TheAPlegends · September 2017

[Tell Berrick about Hackor]

[Politely ask to be let through]

DiverseGnu · September 2017

[Tell Berrick about Hackor]

I think it'll be good for Arthur to talk about Hackor.

[Demand to be let through]

I would like to see Ysilla take a more villainous route

TheRightfulKing · September 2017

[Change the topic]

[Demand to be let through]

LiquidChicagoTed · September 2017

But you shall do. Anyone shall do.

And eventually, I'm afraid they will. That is what is kinda upsetting to Arthur here, the people he cared for and appreciated before are all slowly replaced by new faces. Berrick might not intend to do this, but in a few years from now, when people speak of the blacksmith they won't think of Lyria. Some might, but not the majority. Rosalie for example, but of course, she has problems of her own to deal with for the time being.

Counter-terrorists win.

And look at that, she even managed to defuse the bomb in time, all of it without being a troll, a jerk or using hacks. That is one of the moments where you see FoT is at its core truly a fantasy story.

LiquidChicagoTed · September 2017

Myria Watermont and Absidee of Lys seem like interesting characters.

Ah, they are, this I can say. Absidee in particular is a very interesting character and one I very much look forward to write. That being said, both will remain secondary to Ysilla's storyline. Instead, they will be major characters in the storyline of that other Dorne PoV I have mentioned a while ago, whose storyline will be tied more closely to the court of Sunspear.

LiquidChicagoTed · September 2017

Better not to get friendly with people who are paid by Petyr, especially the nosy ones.

Hm, here I can say that Berrick is not directly employed by Petyr. He is the blacksmith and he was asked by Petyr to stay in the city after arriving her a while ago, considering that they have lost their only full-time blacksmith, but he does not receive any regular payments from the castle. Instead, just like every blacksmith, he earns coin depending on how much he sells and to whom. Of course, this does not mean he's not secretly a spy, but then again, a blacksmith spy who is working fulltime might not be the best investment

After thinking about the choice a little bit more, I've decided to change my vote here. The situation might be bad in some parts of the city, but it seems to me like the brothel was pretty much left untouched. Like was said, we can afford to be nice here as things seem normal enough and if we don't get anywhere with diplomacy, Ysilla can still say who she is and that she has Meria's blessing. Appealing to her heritage right away is more something that her sister would do rather than Ysilla herself now that I think about it And besides, I really liked Jen from what we've seen of her so far, so I'd prefer to stay friendly here

Ah, indeed, the brothel had no incident yet and neither do the people here know about the attacks in other parts of the city. Ysilla made sure that the one guy who could have been a problem for this part of the city has been dealt with. Glad you like Jen though! A little spoiler alert here, before receiving Ysilla and receiving inspiration to make her the PoV (a decision that, as I must say, has been for the best the more thought I put into it), she has been the intended PoV for this part of the Dorne storyline, mostly because she has actually been the first Dorne character I received I could realistically see as a PoV. However, Ysilla as a character offers me way more possibilities right there, so I am glad I made this change.

Mathea · September 2017

[Change the topic]

[Demand to be let through]

WildlingKing · September 2017

[Tell Berrick about Hackor] I don't have a particularly strong opinion one way or another about this choice, but I do think that talking about Hackor would probably make for a more interesting and meaningful scene. Anyway, I don't really mind if the other option wins.

[Demand to be let through] Here on the other hand I feel pretty strongly that Ysilla shouldn't play too nice with these kind of people. She serves Princess Meria, and these thugs should know their place. Anyway, I am certainly interested to learn more about Absidee and Myria.

Bounden · September 2017

[Change the topic] Time to bottle up those emotions until Arthur can find another lady to fall for so he can talk about how crappy his life is right now. Plus we literally just met this dude, let's not go tell him our life story. I wonder what Arthur plans on doing with the armor. Pass it on to the new commander of the guard? Or maybe he'll use it himself and gain the awesome powers of Hackor along with it.

[Demand to be let through] Time to get assertive! Hopefully this will give the ladies a good opinion of Ysilla, going after what she wants. I wonder what could've been if we tried to talk down that little terrorist. Maybe a valuable prisoner? Or maybe he might've just blown himself up.

GMSforresthood · September 2017

[Tell Berrick about Hackor]

[Demand to be let through]

LiquidChicagoTed · September 2017

I wonder what Arthur plans on doing with the armor. Pass it on to the new commander of the guard? Or maybe he'll use it himself and gain the awesome powers of Hackor along with it.

Well, technically, the armour belonged to his father, not to the city guard, so with its death, it passed on to Arthur as his eldest child. That means, it is his now and he could wear it without anyone preventing him from doing so. He might choose to give it to Daemion though, we'll see in his next part

I wonder what could've been if we tried to talk down that little terrorist. Maybe a valuable prisoner? Or maybe he might've just blown himself up.

I'm afraid it would have been the latter. Ysilla might not be completely tactless, but she certainly isn't the smoothest talker around. She would have gotten some surprising success in actually getting through to the boy, but eventually would have chosen the wrong approach and would have ultimately caused him to blow himself up. She herself would have just barely gotten enough time to make it out of that alleyway, but she would have remained physically unharmed.

InKennyWeTrust · September 2017

[Tell Berrick about Hackor]

[Demand to be let through]

AgentZ46 · September 2017

[Tell Beric about Hackor] I don't see the harm. Whether he's a simple good man or a lacky of Petyr he can't do any harm with this story.

[Demand to be let through] She's already tried playing nice and they aren't moving. She seems confident that this method will work so it seems smarter to do it this way.

LiquidChicagoTed · September 2017

The Voting is closed!

Arthur is going to tell Berrick about Hackor

Ysilla is going to demand to be let through

Well, with the first voting we almost had a tie. That was a bit of a back and forth and until today, I would have resolved the tie that we had since yesterday in favour of the other option. Alas, the tie has been broken, so now Arthur and Berrick are going to have a little chat. Might be the more interesting option at the least. As for Ysilla, I was curious what you'd pick and a large majority eventually chose for this approach. While a more diplomatic option might have been not unwise, this approach makes sense as well. I mean, she is heavily concerned for her brother and still a bit shaken from having to kill that boy, so I guess her being a bit more impatient right now is not unthinkable. Those were small choices, ultimately, but many small choices are what build a character.

The next part will be out today. I have made good progress so far after being hit with a lot of inspiration, so I hope to finish it later today. At first, I was planning for a Sadie part. However, I realized that I really want to write a Richard part, so that's what I did. Since he is also going to have the longest storyline in this chapter, that is probably the right decision, even if it means pushing Sadie's first part for Book 2 back a little bit. So, last time we saw Richard, he was at his farm, together with his guests, Kersea and Leonard. The two were hiding there from Mullendore, with Kersea also having to recover from the injuries she suffered during the lighthouse fight in Chapter 8. Begrudgingly, the three are allies now, having a common goal in overthrowing Maron Mullendore. However, as it turned out, Kersea's wound has recently reopened. Since she already feels like a burden to Richard, being the most impaired due to her injuries, she kept this a secret and tried to just sit through it without mentioning it. However, as Leonard noticed, this did not work out so well for her. By now, she requires the attention of a real healer. Enter Mathea, whom Richard has set out to inform about their little problem. Before leaving to meet with her though, he adviced Leonard to remain hidden during the meeting, not wanting Mathea to spot him and maybe get the wrong impression. After all, she only knows the official story, that Leonard is a dangerous fugitive, whereas Kersea is not wanted at all, on account of being presumed dead. The next part will be set shortly after this one.

Also, I would like to do something I haven't done in a while, namely a shout-out. As you know, I love good stories, so I am always happy when a new one is added to the fold. The newest interactive story here in the forums is written by @BitterSteel826218 and it is called The Path of Honour. Set shortly after the death of Robert Baratheon, it follows the young Tobor Hightower, who has set out to join the Night's Watch. That being said, his journey soon takes an unexpected turn and he finds himself in Essos, namely in Slaver's Bay. The story has started recently and only the first chapter has been finished, so that you can have a good impression on BitterSteel's writing ability and activity while still not needing too much time to catch up if you are interested. Naturally, the story is interactive and also features a character submission. I myself am enjoying this story greatly and hopefully, some of you will be interested as well, because it truly deserves more readers. You can check it out by following this link!

GMSforresthood · September 2017

yes the the path of honour is really cool

BitterSteel826218 · September 2017

Thank you so much for the shoutout Liquid, it's really appreciated. I'd also appreciate anyone who checks out my story, just for a little read. Without being cocky, I think it's a decent read. I'm really enjoying writing it and I hope anyone who tries it enjoys reading it. Thanks guys!

The_not_chosen_one · September 2017

I'm back!And when I'm back..the Random Thoughts are back!

RT (of the previous parts):

Finally we see again the Stormlanders and the Stormlands!
Maester Qoherys will almost 100% be the Starscream of the Durrandon family..why I'm not surprised?
Drent is going to lose his hands in his next part! He is really going to bite more that he can chew!
Raenna instead,in her first choice of this book,made the wise choice
In the first North PoV of the book we see Winterfell,the King of the North,a new guy and..OH MY GOSH IS THAT A UNICORN!?
Sooner or later Brial will discover her sister fate..that she is (not) dead!
Btw I really like the first Raenna part and I'm curious to read her meeting with the King of the North
Despite it was a depressing beginning Arthur first part of this book was a very good read that make me even like more the Narthamer (captain of the) guards and remember me why I believe that he and his family problems is one of the highlights of this story
Now that I think about it this is the first real part that show how Raylainsfair change after the timeskip! (New people fill the roles in the society of the deceaded,the rebuilding of the city etc..)
And in the last one of the previous parts Ysilla become a child killer...h-hurray?
Hey Liquid I don't miss that comparison between the Oldtown and the Sunspear brothels (expecially about the lack of guards)!Btw I like this new location
I'm very curious to read what will happen in the next Ysilla part and if we will discover what is the matter of the conversation between the spymaster and the owner of the brothel

LiquidChicagoTed · September 2017

I'm back!And when I'm back..the Random Thoughts are back!

Ah, welcome back! I really hope everything worked out fine for you in the last couple days

Maester Qoherys will almost 100% be the Starscream of the Durrandon family..why I'm not surprised?

Well, he is Valyrian and Argilac does not trust him for the exact same reasons, but it remains to be seen if he deserves this amount of mistrust. He surely has something shady about him, though at the same time, he is a Maester of the Citadel and being appointed to a king means he has a flawless record. He might not have everyone's trust, but some very intelligent men have decided that he is the right for this position.

Drent is going to lose his hands in his next part! He is really going to bite more that he can chew!

Oh, it is going to be a bold move for sure. Though at the Storm King's court, you lose your hands if you make Argilac angry. Drent, well, he might make some people angry, but at the very least what he is going to say won't be insulting for the princess. We'll see how the Durrandon's react to that and in the end, it is really only their opinion that matters.

Raenna instead,in her first choice of this book,made the wise choice

Yes, I cannot deny it. Kneeling to Torrhen was the more wise choice by far. Sure, he is not one such as Argilac, who demands respect, or Harren, who punishes disrespect with pain, but he still is a prideful king and wouldn't have been happy about her refusal to kneel. It was mostly a character choice though, on wether you want her to be respectful and a bit submissive to Torrhen, or more defiant and reluctant to work for him.

In the first North PoV of the book we see Winterfell,the King of the North,a new guy and..OH MY GOSH IS THAT A UNICORN!?

A beautiful, majestic creature that can only be ridden by a pure-hearted princess... no, wait that is the other type of unicorn we're talking. Here you got smelly goat-horses with a temper and something resembling a spear permanently fused to their heads. Imagine them as actually far from majestic and you probably get why Raenna wasn't gushing over it

Sooner or later Brial will discover her sister fate..that she is (not) dead!

Well, she won't discover this anytime soon. They are a continent apart and Kersea likely has no means of contacting Winterfell. And of course, she has to find out that Briar is still alive as well. It might very well be that Raenna has to reveal what she believes to be Kersea's fate, because Briar might not be satisfied with getting the silent treatment about her sister for so long.

Btw I really like the first Raenna part and I'm curious to read her meeting with the King of the North

Ah, this is great to hear! Raenna will have a very exciting storyline ahead, this I can say. In fact, it is one of those I look forward for the most, because it will explore topics that are rarely truly explored in FoT, showing unique locations and characters I legitimately cannot wait to develop

Despite it was a depressing beginning Arthur first part of this book was a very good read that make me even like more the Narthamer (captain of the) guards and remember me why I believe that he and his family problems is one of the highlights of this story

Another thing I am glad to hear. I enjoy the Nathamer family dynamics a lot as well, so much that I almost decided to spare Hackor a fate that I actually considered to be a good send-off for the character simply so that I can have more of all three of them. But even brought down to two, the Nathamer family will have some problems and interesting dynamics as Hackor's shadow still looms over his children. It's great I'm not alone with enjoying it.

Now that I think about it this is the first real part that show how Raylainsfair change after the timeskip! (New people fill the roles in the society of the deceaded,the rebuilding of the city etc..)

Indeed it is, due to Richard's first part being set on his farm and Jenna's first part having to be cut in half due to me not having access to the character list during my short trip. If I would have had, you would have gotten some of the themes shown in Arthur's part already. And Richard's newest part, the one I am going to finish in an hour or two, I'll continue on this.

And in the last one of the previous parts Ysilla become a child killer...h-hurray?

Technically, child might stretch it a bit. He was sixteen, still three years younger than Ysilla and, as she said, younger than her youngest brother, who is 17. I mean, it's not as if she had much of a choice, but this still troubles her greatly, even if she's not one to outright blame herself for something she was pretty much forced to do.

Hey Liquid I don't miss that comparison between the Oldtown and the Sunspear brothels (expecially about the lack of guards)!Btw I like this new location

They surely are different. I mean, some things never change in brothels, but the Thousand Shades of Flowers is much more exclusive. Not everyone can get in there and the guards are meant to protect their often quite influential customers. The dornish are far more relaxed about all this and the guards are Absidee's, who, as a Lysene, is more cautious by nature.

I'm very curious to read what will happen in the next Ysilla part and if we will discover what is the matter of the conversation between the spymaster and the owner of the brothel

Ah, and I am happy to show that part and to introduce both characters soon. They do have some interesting things to discuss and well, Ysilla might get to find out some of them, even if that is not the main reason she has set out to speak to them.

LiquidChicagoTed · September 2017

Richard

It had been a few weeks since he had last been to the city itself and Richard was surprised how quickly the new lord had brought back some sense of order. Gone were the corpses, the smoking ruins, the general feeling of loss and despair. The people had started to rebuild, with resources carried from Darkdell and Vyrwel men were patrolling on the streets. Gone was the green and golden, gone was House Raylan. It was all black and red now.

The clinic was one of the changes made in the town. Vyrwel coin had allowed for the construction of the large building atop the ruins of an old city block. Two stories dedicated entirely for healing purposes, the largest, most well equipped building of its kind in the northwestern Reach. It even had a small fence surrounding it, more for decorative purposes than to keep anyone out.

Mathea was living there now, this Richard knew. After what had happened, he couldn't blame her for not wanting to return to her old cottage. Instead, she had gotten a room in this new building, a large one which she insisted on sharing with her apprentices, knowing that neither of the two young women should be left alone after what they had been through.

The unmistakable smell of a clinic, it was less strong today, just like how the clinic itself was less crowded than usual. Things had changed after all and if it wouldn't be for the knowledge Kersea and Leonard had given him, Richard would share the opinion the rest of the smallfolk had, that this all was for the better, that there was now downside at all to their new overlords.

It didn't take him long to spot Mathea. As usual, she was busy, though having two assistants has made things undeniably easier for her and it showed in the way she looked. Even from afar, Richard saw that she looked fresher than before, more well-rested and though relaxed would be the wrong word, she seemed relieved at the least.

Right now, she was kneeling over a new patient, a young man whom Richard had never seen before. He was an unusual sight, ghastly pale and with ashen blonde hair. Right now, his skin was covered in sweat. Claw marks were seen on the right side of his face and as he frantically looked around, he spotted Richard with unsettling eyes, one normal and of a blue colour, the other with an oddly small pupil that was coloured in a yellowish brown.

Her assistants were there too. Richard sighed as he spotted Rosalie Mettel, or the pale shade that was left of her. Once a lively young woman, whatever she had seen that night still affected her. She wasn't looking all that differently, still a beauty with golden-blonde hair, though the look on her face... Richard felt rage just thinking about the man that had taken this from her, her confidence, her joy, her mother...

The other woman, though having a similar story, was coping remarkably well with the situation. Last time he had visited the clinic, to check up on Hal and to bring him home to his farm, he had started a brief conversation with Malien Shire. A bit on the plain side, with simple, brown hair, grey eyes and a just barely healed scar on her lower jaw, what was fascinating about her was the optimism with which she faced the world around her, despite having lost both of her parents only two months ago.

The young man was looking with concern and clear pain onto his lower leg. Mathea had removed part of his trousers and was now going down on her knees to get a better look at the wound. Richard gulped as he spied it, deep marks that had already begun to turn yellow. “Please tell me you don't have to cut it off”, the young man sighed.

Mathea pressed her lips together. “You shouldn't have waited for so long”, she replied. “But yes, I believe I can” She looked up, spotting Richard, a thin smile forming on her face. Rosalie barely looked at him in return, whereas Malien raised a finger, signalling him to wait for a bit.

“What happened to you anyways?”, the young woman asked and the man sighed. “A wild animal attacked me”, he spoke. “I... I thought it was... ah, doesn't matter” He forced himself to grin despite the pain he was in, though Mathea's serious expression caused him to frown. “I'd give you milk of the poppy, but we don't have any”, she revealed, as she put on a pair of heavy, brown gloves. “No maester, no milk” Instead, she glanced at Malien, who handed her a crude, brownish plate, a piece of bark. “Chew on this”, she ordered him. “It is not as strong and it'll keep you awake, but it'll dull some of the pain”

The man glanced at it. “Is that really necessary?”, he asked, as Rosalie, standing in front of him, put a hand onto his shoulder. “Trust me”, she said, her voice sounding tired. “It's better than biting onto your own tongue” This seemed to convince him, as he quickly grabbed for the piece of bark. “What is your name?”, Rosalie asked, in an attempt to distract him, as Malien handed Mathea a long knife.

“Ryler”, he pressed through his teeth, the piece of bark already in his mouth. Nervously, he glanced at Mathea. “This is going to hurt a lot”, she warned him. “And I am sorry in advance, but if it all works out, you can keep your foot” With sweat dripping down from his forehead, Ryler gave her a nod, looking up at Rosalie immediately afterwards.

“So, an animal attacked you”, she said and he gave her a nod, cringing as the blade touched his flesh. “Why?” Ryler pressed his lips together and to Richard's surprise, not more than a small groan came out of his throat as Mathea cut down into the infected flesh. “I was hunting”, he hissed. “Hunt for... for...” Now, his groan grew louder, as Mathea quickly removed a small lump of pus-filled, infected flesh from his lower leg.

Malien was quick to turn away, her gaze meeting Richard's, the disgust clearly visible on her face. She was new, it was to be expected. Mathea meanwhile continued the surgery with a blank, dead serious expression, cutting away the infected flesh, while Ryler tried his best to suppress his screams, despite the fact that tears streamed down his cheeks.

Rosalie was a different case entirely. The previously tired, sullen expression had turned into sheer horror, as she stared at the open wound with wide eyes. She had put her hands onto the table Ryler was lying on, her fingers clenched into the wood, her breath becoming faster than before. In a way, she seemed to freak out even more than Ryler, as she was notably shivering.

“Done”, Mathea said after a few additional cuts and Ryler let out a sigh of relief. His leg was bleeding, the infected flesh on the surface removed and the healer reached into Rosalie's direction. “Hand me a bandage”, she ordered, though Rosalie did not react.

Mathea shot her a glare, not a sharp one, but one full of concern. “Rosie!”, she barked and the girl flinched, forcing herself to look away from the gruesome wound. Quickly and not directly looking at the healer, she handed her a bandage from a small table next to her, which Mathea quickly wrapped around Ryler's leg to stop the bleeding.

The young man was still breathing heavily, though he managed a brave smile. “You said it would hurt”, he said. “When's the pain coming?” Mathea gave him a quick smirk. “Wait until the Willow's Bark wears off”, she said. “But no crying in here. You want to look tough, then act the part” She glanced at Richard, before giving Malien a nod.

Mathea's assistant approached Richard at last. “Harking, isn't it?”, she asked and Richard smiled as a reply. “So, what brings you here?” He shrugged. “More work”, he told her. “How are things going in the clinic?” To this, Malien frowned. “Never thought I'd see this much blood over the course of two months”, she admitted. “But I'm not complaining. It could be worse, much worse. We're helping people here”

“That you do”, Richard confirmed. “And maybe one more today” He looked up as Mathea approached them, having removed her gloves and the apron she was wearing to prevent being covered in Ryler's blood. “What's wrong?”, she asked, narrowing her eyes. “You look pretty healthy to me”

She extended her hand and Richard shook it, as he noticed that she indeed looked much more at ease than just a few months ago. No doubt, she had a lot of benefits from the current rule, the clinic, assistants and coin to buy supplies. If only she knew... though perhaps, the benefits she came to enjoy would have made it hard for her to believe the truth. Richard didn't know her well enough for that and in this moment, he was glad to have ordered Leonard to hide.

“It's not about me”, he admitted. “One of my farmhands, a young woman, she had a small accident at work. A nasty cut and it has gotten worse” Mathea raised an eyebrow, though it was not her who answered. The voice was male and came from the side. “I was not aware you had farmhands”, he said.

As Richard turned his head, he spotted one of the masked men that were accompanying Maron Mullendore. Alley Cats, that's how Kersea and Leonard had called them. And from what they had told him, he was even able to guess the identity of the man he was speaking with. Clad in white robes, his mask black with red streaks, he was facing the Sphynx.

“Ah, where are my manners”, the Sphynx said. “My name is Rodrik, I assist Ser Maron with keeping an eye on the belongings of Raylansfair... Harking, isn't it? Richard Harking?” Richard gave him a nod and the Sphynx fully descended from the staircase that led to the upper floors. Behind him, a young man, more a boy still, followed, with dirty blonde hair, grey eyes and a calm expression on his face. That said, something about his smirk was unnerving.

“It is”, Richard confirmed as the Sphynx walked closer. “How many farmhands do you have?”, the masked man asked and Richard gulped. “Two”, he said. “My brother and Kasey, a young woman from Lindenhill. She's the one I was talking about” The Sphynx gave him a nod. “I see”, he said. “And are her injuries serious?”

“I'm afraid they are”, Richard said, nervously glancing at Mathea, who was looking entirely calm. “I was hoping you could spare an hour of your time. I have a cart with me, so we don't have to walk and I'd offer you a ride back to town. I don't have much, but I have a bowl of stew for your efforts”

The Sphynx, or Rodrik, or whatever he called himself these days glanced around. Rosalie seemed to shrink under his glare and she outright averted her eyes as she spotted the young man by his side. However, he raised a hand as he spotted Ryler. “A new patient”, he remarked. “Young man, what is your name?”

“Ryler”, Ryler mumbled through clenched teeth, giving the Sphynx a glare of mistrust. “Only Ryler?”, the masked man asked and Ryler gave him a nod. “Only Ryler”, he confirmed. Mathea sighed, as she gave Richard an apologetic look. “I'm not sure I can leave right now”, she spoke. “You see, it's hectic here”

Before Richard was able to reply, the Sphynx turned around. “Ah, it's alright, dear”, he said warmly. “You can leave. We got it covered” Mathea tilted her head and the masked man chuckled slightly. “Don't look at me like that, I still owe you. I insist!”

Though the healer sighed, a slight smile formed on her face. “Alright”, she spoke and gave him a quick pat on the shoulder. “Thank you” She glanced at Richard. “That means, I can help your friend. Might be for the better if I get a good look at her myself” She quickly glanced at her assistants. “Rosie, take the evening off”, she spoke softly and the young girl gave her a nod, quickly hurrying away, going out of her way to avoid the Sphynx and his companion. “Malien, keep an eye on things here”

The other assistant saluted lazily, sporting a quick smile. “You can count on me”, she promised and with these words of assurance, Mathea seemed ready to leave her clinic for the rest of the day. Grabbing a large bag and putting on a simple cloak, to stay warm during the chilly afternoon, she accompanied Richard out of the room.

In silence, Richard led Mathea back to his cart. It wasn't necessarily faster than walking by foot, but certainly more comfortable and if anything, he wanted to prevent her from having to walk through the mud for several miles just to help him. She'd do it, this much he knew. Maester Eaton had done the same, so many years ago. But for her sake, he'd like to spare her at least this much.

“So, how are things going for you?”, Richard asked, as she took place next to him on the coach box. She bit down onto her lower lip, glancing around as he stirred his old mare through the streets, towards the city gate. “I don't trust them”, she admitted. “Rodrik, Ser Maron, Lord Vyrwel...”

To this, Richard raised an eyebrow. “They gave you this clinic”, he spoke and she looked at him, now not without sharpness. “It takes more than honeyed words and gifts to win my trust”, she told him. “They are taking me for a fool if they think differently”

“How do you mean that?”, Richard asked, as they left the city behind, now riding the cart down the path that would eventually lead to his farm. Mathea sighed. “There is only one topic I'd consider myself an expert in and it is healing”, she explained, before she looked up. “And I can say, with certainty, Rodrik is not a healer. Sure, I don't doubt his impressive feats. I have seen his work on Ser Maron. But...”

She gulped, suddenly tensing up. “There is so much about him that is just... off. He lacks care for his patients, his hands don't move like a healer's hands, but... but like a butcher's”, she whispered, as if she was afraid that anyone could listen to them, on this lonely road. “It's a shame. His knowledge... Damien, the man who raised me, taught me, he was nowhere near his level and he was already a prodigy. But knowledge alone doesn't make a healer and his actions tell me he is anything but”

“So, you don't believe the Sphynx is whom he claims to be?”, Richard said and Mathea looked at him in surprise. “Where have you heard that name?”, she asked and Richard clenched his teeth. “He goes by Rodrik when I'm around, but yes, I heard this one before. The Sphynx. The Tom, The Moggy... That's what some call them, usually in a much less flattering context”

“It's wise not to trust blindly”, Richard said and Mathea narrowed her eyes. “That it is”, she replied. “Same thing for you, I assume” As Richard gave her a surprised look, she sighed, flashing him a small smile to ease the tension. “You have no farmhands. Hal Recton told me when I was patching him up again”, she revealed and raised a finger. “If you have to lie, try to find a more believable story. Better pray that Rodrik won't catch up to you” She quickly moved a finger to her lips. “Not from me of course”, she assured him. “Though I am curious. Who is that woman you want me to have a look at?”

Richard sighed. “You got me”, he admitted, giving her a slight smile, glad that she took this so kindly. “She's not a farmhand and the wound has not been an accident” He paused for a moment, trying to reveal as much as necessary, without telling her all he knew. Though she just voiced her distrust in the Sphynx and his superiors, he knew it would be unwise to tell her everything. Hell, he himself found it hard to believe at times, until he realized that it was Leonard Constantine who confirmed each and every one of Kersea's tales. Without him, he would have had a far harder time believing her, but the knight would never lie to him.

“The wound is from a sword”, he explained. “Someone tried to kill her. Cut her side. I patched the wound up as good as possible, but it reopened a few days ago. Now... well, I fear she might die if not for your help” Mathea gave him a nod. “And I will try my best”, she promised. “But tell me, do you know anything about that woman? Whom she is, for example”

“She's...”, Richard started, but cut himself off, as his farm came into sight. “She's someone who did a lot of bad. Some things she has been forced to, but probably not all of them. Now she wants to atone, wants to... redeem herself, I think. She saved my life, so I'd say she had a good start”

“And in return you saved hers, so I'd say you're even”, Mathea replied. “But it's alright, I won't pry any further. Thank you for sharing this information with me” She slid off the cart as Richard stopped it next to his house, approaching it even as he just finished descending from the cart box himself.

He opened the door for her and she entered. The candles had almost burned down, though a relatively fresh one was located in Kersea's room. There she was, lying on the bed, weakly looking up as the two entered. Leonard was nowhere to be seen, to Richard's relief. However, neither was Alan and it concerned him that his brother was gone for such a long amount of time.

“Took you long enough”, Kersea mumbled, her voice showing that she was in pain. Her condition had quickly gotten worse, or maybe she just didn't put any more effort into hiding it. Mathea cautiously approached her, giving her a look that was more careful than what she had shown Ryler just earlier and Richard had to clench his fists. Perhaps he shouldn't have told Mathea about Kersea's past, but he felt like she had to know at least some basics to understand the case she had to deal with now.

“She knows”, he just said and Kersea frowned. Mathea was quick to calm her down as she knelt down next to the bed. “Only the basics”, she said. “You may keep your secrets, I don't care for them” Kersea sighed. “Fine”, she mumbled. “That's... it has to be enough”

“I figured I had to tell her if she is supposed to help you”, Richard explained and Kersea gave him a sardonic smile, more a simple baring of her teeth. “Your concern for my well-being is touching”, she replied. “Just keep in mind, it's your ass on the line as well. The wrong person hears what she heard, you, me, everyone you care for, all dead”

Mathea raised her hand and instantly, Kersea tensed up, giving her a glare of mistrust. The healer raised an eyebrow. “May I?”, she asked and as Kersea gave her a reluctant nod, she slowly approached the tunic. In the light of the candle, a clear stain of blood was visible on it.

Kersea groaned with discomfort as Mathea rolled the tunic up to get a better look onto her side. Richard had seen the wound before and he knew how painful it was for Kersea in this very moment. Even Mathea looked concerned, her face showing the compassion that set her apart from a men like Rodrik. “It's a good thing you told me about her”, she said. “Because I wouldn't have believed your first story. It's clear that this was not an accident”

“You don't have to tell me”, Kersea moaned, clenching her fists in pain. “What are you going to do?” Mathea gulped. “We'll see”, she said and gave Richard a deep look. “You should have told me”, she spoke. “When it comes to this, you can always trust me. Now... it's not too late, but it will be a difficult procedure, especially in here”

“You want to bring her to your clinic”, Richard deduced and she gave him a nod. Kersea's eyes widened. “To the city?”, she spoke and Mathea put a hand onto her shoulder. “It'll be fine”, she promised. “I'll be able to help you the best over there. It'll be brightly lit, I'll have all the supplies, two assistants. That would be for the best, your best”

“And whom else might learn of my presence here?”, Kersea asked, to which Mathea raised an eyebrow. “Whom is it you're on the run from?”, she asked, before looking at Richard. “Ah, it matters not. I don't like it, but I can try my best here, if you insist, but I won't guarantee success. If it's truly that dangerous for her in the city, that might be better, but who am I to make a decision here? You know the full story”

[Allow her to take Kersea to the clinic] [Urge her to try her best at the farm]

Forum of Thrones: An Interactive Story

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