Her note had been short, a simple invitation with directions through Sunspear’s winding streets. You kept your profile low, unlikely you were the only Lord about the city but not about the back alleys and dark pathways you now found yourself. Your hair was hidden beneath your cloak, a cloth over your mouth hid the silver in your beard, only your eyes remained to give away your identity, emerald orbs reflecting the heavy sun of Dorne. Sweat pooled upon your forehead, you cursed the warmth and wished for lighter clothing, perhaps you could find something suitable later, sandsilk would feel wonderful now. you shake the thoughts. Refocus on the task. Obella’s name sat upon your lips and you mind began to wander, her sweet songs, the taste of her lips, the pleading begging voice that told you of things that made little and less sense. And now… She wished to see you in secret despite being a lady of the court, she need not call upon you to some winesink in a twisted alleyway unless…

You stop a moment, watching a street peddler haggle with a dark skinned man over a skin, but your mind was elsewhere. No. Dontos would be furious. It was bad enough that the seamstress’s daughter potentially had your child in her belly, but a Noblelady? You had hardly stepped into Dorne. And what would Lord Arryn say? This could cause a rift beyond measure, Lord Qorgyle was a dear friend of Prince Oberyn, and one of his most ardent supporters. Simple disregard, passionate heat, that could ruin talks of peace. It could ruin you.

Beginning to walk again you check the directions provided and find yourself before an assumingly taphouse upon the second wall of Sunspear. Entering you find a young man dressed in simple leathers, a sword at his side, and an older woman, her face pinched and weathered. She gives you a once over and scrunches her face up before nodding to the young man. He approaches you, roughly your own height, and he looks at you with a defiant gaze, his eyes meeting your own and a small smirk forms on his face, “It’s him nan.”

You return the gaze, confused when he speaks. The elder woman gnaws on her gums and waves the boy off, and picks at your hand, “Follow.”

She leads you through what you now see to be a brothel, seedy as they come, you had seen pleasure houses not unlike this in Essos, a few in King’s Landing as well. There was a certain dornish flair, the smell of incense mixed with the heat of the summer day reminding you further of Obella’s tent. A small corner is dedicated to a bar with various inhabitants that hardly pass you a glance, a group of three look like they’re sellswords with a smaller one eyeing you a moment before calling for another drink. The idle playing of a bard catches your ears, a song you did not know. You reach a secluded room and the elder woman points for you to enter with a wordless command and having little other choice you obey.

The room is decorated sparsely, candles light the dark room with a bed of some comfort, the walls are covered with silks and on a table before you is a decanter filled with a red wine, two glasses filled already. You walk about the room and place a hand over your breast, a dirk resting there and you give it a shake, loosening it from the scabbard, your hand brushing Isis’ braid while doing so.

Fingering at the bed’s sheets your mind remains still for once not turning to idle thoughts but focus, this felt off to you. A voice behind you startles makes you turn on your heel and allow your eyes to rest upon a face you did not know, matched to a voice and body you did.

“Lord Blackshaft,” she says with a devilish smile. Her dark blue eyes drink in your own, the pools of black rippling where the light catches them. You hadn’t seen her without her mask before, the black carapace so reminiscent of the Qorgyle’s scorpions. Her features are sharp, a stark contrast to the softness of her eyes and lips. Above her left eye is a scar that cuts into her neat eyebrows just enough to mar the otherwise beautiful visage.

“Lady Scorpion, a pleasure,” you respond you voice turning to velvet, “Less than pleasurable circumstances. I had thought us done meeting in dark places.”

Her lips twist and she walks towards you, a swaying stride that you attempt to keep your eyes from. Her hands whisk the glasses of wine and she swings her body into your own, pressing the glass to your hand and removing the other from the dirk upon your chest, “A choice of necessity my Lord. There are far too many ears and eyes in the Old Palace.”

“And a shady winesink is a better place for a Lord with my…”

“Reputation?” she smiles again and presses the glass to her lips.

“Erm… Yeah. Reputation. To be found. Particularly among the company of a Lady of Dorne.”

She rolls her eyes and strides away, taking a seat upon the bed, crossing her legs and her arms, her dress hardly leaving much to the imagination upon her legs. She invites you to join her but your impulse is swallowed down by Dontos’ voice in your ear, your hand gripping a table you leaned against with a death grip.

“My Lord. I would not do this unless it was absolutely necessary. In Old Palace your voice is considered small, but the ear you have is important.”

“The Ha-?”

She cuts you off, “Yes. His. We need you to… Focus his efforts. The Prince knows those who would conspire to war. Those that would have his brother’s ear.”

She spoke of Prince Doran, an odd thing you thought, the Qorgyles were Oberyn’s men, but Lady Obella served his brother? Your face turns to confusion, and she reads it sighing slightly, “My brother has the Prince’s ear. If he should be persuaded to put down arms, the Prince loses much of his support. The Yronwoods will not hear of it, the Santagars straddle the line, and Dayne may possibly be swayed as my brother will. If, you help us.”

“Help?” you ask, finally taking a sip of the wine in your hand, the warmth hits you strongly, a dry red, mixing with the heat and incense of the pleasure den and rushing to your head, “In what possible way?”

“You are a martial man my Lord Blackshaft, and my brother prideful. Suggest you attend him. Challenge him, befriend him, hunt with him. And turn his attentions elsewhere. He does not know what ruin would bring him with such actions. There is far more at work here then he will ever know.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose and sigh, this wasn’t the situation you wished to find yourself in, entertaining a Lord and attempting to dssaude him from running into war with the realm? You thought yourself just a pawn in the larger game, Lord Arryn the player that mattered, but now…

Her words draw you from the storm of thoughts that now swirled in your head, she had drawn her dress low upon her chest, sitting sideways upon the bed now, “My Lord we have little time. I need an answer, will you help us?” she asks in a sultry tone, her voice inviting you to bed with her, her eyes upon the heat of your loins.

>Questions for Obella?

>Agree to help her
>Disagree, you are not a pawn in anyone’s game

Roll 3d6 for Will.

Rolled 1, 1, 1 = 3 (3d6)

>>43521291
>Agree

File: The one throne.png (353 KB, 640x640) Image search: [Google]

353 KB, 640x640

Rolled 6, 4, 1 = 11 (3d6)

>>43521291
>Agree to help her

>>43521364
for real anon?

>>43521364
Well. Our willpower looks like garbage, so I guess we're easy to manipulate.

I'm fine with it. It's probably in character.

>>43521364
I... Wow. Just wow anon.

I can't ignore something some hysterically terrible. Looks like Brynden is getting seduced again.

Rolled 3, 2, 1 = 6 (3d6)

>>43521291
Rolling to see if we have the will of the devil.
Somehow i doubt it.

We were already trying to stop the war anyway, right?

Rolled 6, 1, 3 = 10 (3d6)

>>43521291
So who is your brother? What's his temperament?

Also please Father don't?

>>43521502
>We were already trying to stop the war anyway, right?
This war.

So we have more time to gather strength and allies to put the Targaryens back on the throne at a later date.

>>43521219
Welcome back. Glad to see you are on schedule

>>43521502
Pretty much. Another war right now would be a disaster for all involved.

Its also plain Obella is trying to get pregnant to force us into marriage.

While not adverse to such, it is still in our interest to offer it on our terms before she shows signs of child.

Rolled 2, 6, 2 = 10 (3d6)

>>43521275
willpower go!

>>43521364
>>43521445
>>43521499

Well even though you weren't going to succeed because of that horrendous first roll you didn't succeed on the Will check regardless. Oh Brynden you lusty mother fucker you.

>>43521502
Well yes.

>>43521542
>Big B gives a woman a child
>Has to marry them after
Kek

>>43521528
Anyone competent will do really.

>>43521560
Noblelady of a house with allot of very powerful ears. They are after leveraging us to their side. If not, using the bastard they could scandle the house into near ruin and fuck everything up.

Essentially blackmail.

So by helping her we're helping Prince Doran? Is that the ally she told us about?

>>43521646
Would appear so

>>43521585
>Anyone competent
I disagree, but that's neither here nor there, I suppose.

>>43521646
Pretty much all falls into place for us.

So: Weres the catch? Cause we aint going to get this for free. Is the prince we need to suck up to a bit of an asshat?

File: House Malroy's Words.png (323 KB, 444x649) Image search: [Google]

323 KB, 444x649

>>43521560
Just flash them Brynden's family motto and things should work out

>>43521681
I'm guessing we pretty much have to become their spy on Jon Arryn.

>>43521681
>Weres the catch?
What, besides coming off as lecherous and easily manipulable to a schemer on the payroll of Doran fucking Martell?

Is that not enough?

>>43521585
Don't be stupid, we walk around with one of our bastard sons all day.

>>43521808
Dont be stupid, everyone knows we had him when we left the seven kingdoms with a whore. Not a noblewoman.

>>43521793
Thats not really a problem if its just one person or so who thinks that.

>>43521852
>Thats not really a problem
I needed a laugh. Thanks anon.

>>43521891
Its a great problem if someone like the hand or the king thinks it. The person trying to manipulate us? not so much.

I like that Brynden has an affair with a noblelady going on. He's a pretty cool MC all the other ones were too scared to bang like some wanton whore.

>>43521852
Bigger B had a kid with a Florent noblewoman and no-one cares about that. Plus Dornish people have bastards all the time

>>43521966
The QM essentially said if she was pregnant they would use it to blackmail us, last session no less.

>>43521988
Just because they'll use it, doesn't mean Brynden will care. He's sworn directly to Robert Baratheon, being that he's a Crownlands lord. He'll probably just laugh about it

Okay, can we all agree that we need to shove some goddamn maidan's tea down her throat afterwards?

Tired of all these pregnancy scares. At least cum when she's on top Brynden, everyone knows that gravity will reduce pregnancy chances. And pull out for extra effectiveness.

Also, should we just carry a cask of maiden's tea wherever we go? We should just hire a slave or page or something just to stand there and give every woman in a 300 ft radius a cup.

>>43522101
Or just not worry too much about it ?

>>43522111
Good idea. Lets go with yours.

>>43522101
Chill.

>>43522101
>Okay, can we all agree that we need to shove some goddamn maidan's tea down her throat afterwards?
No, the only person who'll care is Dontos.

>>43522111
>>43522146
>>43522186

>You stop a moment, watching a street peddler haggle with a dark skinned man over a skin, but your mind was elsewhere. No. Dontos would be furious. It was bad enough that the seamstress’s daughter potentially had your child in her belly, but a Noblelady? You had hardly stepped into Dorne. And what would Lord Arryn say? This could cause a rift beyond measure, Lord Qorgyle was a dear friend of Prince Oberyn, and one of his most ardent supporters. Simple disregard, passionate heat, that could ruin talks of peace. It could ruin you.

That, that is the reason why i insist she drink some maiden's tea. Getting some common girl pregnant is one thing, but a noblelady comes with baggage. Something we cannot weather right now, since we have barely any political allies with the strength, friendship, and willpower to stand with us against our enemies.

>>43522249
Yeah but people would first find out AFTER the peace talk. So we should be in the clear.

>>43522249
Going to be a month before she shows any signs. If she ends up pregnant.

Though from implications we could be in Dorne a while.

Failed.

The Lady Obella bites her lower lip and slips her dress below her waist, the tight stomach leading to a V that disappeared behind what was left of the black sandsilk dress, your eyes draw to her breasts, not as large as Lady Giselle’s but with a sweet point of brown nipple. She drinks again and beckons you forward with her eyes and you cave, she was gorgeous, the exotic taste of flesh and kiss reminding you of Essos. Of drowned sorrow. You let go of the table and finish your wine, allowing the glasses to drop from your hand to a threadbare carpet below, and you work away your clothing, crossing the room to her and gathering her in your arms, her lips catching on your own in a deep passionate kiss that harkened to your moments in King’s Landing.

Her hands run through your hair, picking at the silver strands, in between soft moans she asks “You took the dye from your hair Lord Blackshaft?”

Your mouth works upon her neck, her hands deftly removing the remainder of your clothing, you come up for air, pushing her further to the bed and crawling after her. She rolls to her stomach and casts you a look from behind, swaying her hips for want of your attentions. “Yes Lady Scorpion, no more hiding of fear of the crown’s wrath. Denying my blood. Forgetting those…” your voice trails as your lips meets her lower back, sending shivers up her spine, and eliciting a sharp call from her.

Turning her head again to meet your eyes she speaks in between her voice failing a moments, “They should call you Silvershaft then my Lord,” her eyes ripple with a twinkle of mischief and she continues, “So my Lord Silvershaft, do you agree to aid me?”

>>43521943

>Karban
>Would have had his head on a literal spike if Paxter ever found out about our trysts with Dalyna

>>43522271

Then what happens six months down the line?
Arryn's all about stability, and we fuck with that we will be gone. Or do you think he's gonna throw down for a random crownlands house with barely any political or military clout against Lannisters, who already dislike us, along with Dorne, who will fucking hate us if we get a Noble chick from one of their houses pregnant with a bastard?

You’ve gathered yourself behind her, your manhood pushing to her glistening entrance, her voice calls for want and you indulge her, pushing to hilt before coming to a smooth rhythm. “I would know of whom I aid first my Lady,” you ask pushing yourself to a rest a moment and collecting her body to yours, you kiss her neck as she catches her breath for an answer.

“The… Prince of Sunspear, the elder,” she breathes out, her hand reaching to where you meet, fingers tracing, “And to an extent… My brother. Quentyn, the Lord of Sandstone.” Her voice is a whisper, attempting to keep her words private, “He is not a stupid man, he only… Seven be good… Only seeks to follow. His pride is his only downfall.”

She drops from your arms, unable to support herself on her own, and you again dig into her, your rhythm changing with her voice, your mind has allowed its thoughts to melt away, unafraid of what you might have been prior. You stop for a moment and come free of her, she turns her head and her eyes plead for more, and she swings her leg to your other side, gaining the advantage and pulling you into her again, while she sits upon your lap, her legs wrapped about you. Her eyes meet yours half lidded with pleasure and you allow your emerald to be drank in by her pools. She kisses you and a thought comes to mind again, you break away allowing her to bite your lower lip and coming to a pout, “This is not some simple service my Lady, what’s the catch?”

Her hips stop and for a moment her eyes regard you fully, the slow gyration maintaining her own pleasure with yours, “You use the ear turned to your lips, and allow us to hear the words you have heard.”

“You want me to spy on the Ha-” you stop, “On him? For the Prince? For you?”

She starts again and you groan in your pleasure, her lips come close to your ears, “Not now. But someday. A favor. In the future. Simple, yes?” Your mind has gone blank, your pleasure at a peak and you grab her hips, pushing her towards your end, her voice goes shrill after her last words, and the spasms of her orgasms push you to your own. Pumping your seed into her, thrust to hilt, she cries in your ear with every push, and finally falls from your grip, spreading out over the bed, her long black hair covering the scarlet sheets.

Your mind turns to thought, her hand upon her entrance, drawing upon the dribble of white and pressing it to her lips, and you sudden realize your fear from before again, “You are… Are you with..?”

She eyes you, pulling the fingers from her lips, her tongue trailing on it, “With child? No my Lord Silvershaft. I am not so simple as the peasants of King’s Landing.”

You frown at the reference but your heart is lifted of a weight. She pulls herself up and kisses you again and dances away with a longing look, gathering her clothing and dressing in short order. “My Lord the head of this brothel will gather you in a moment, I would suggest a bath and change of clothing when you arrive in the Spear Tower again.”

As she speaks you’ve gathered yourself and halfway dressed again, she watches you, her eyes resting upon the scarred torso, sweat giving light to well muscled body, “Do remember my Lord. You must succeed in swaying my brother. I will see you again, soon.” She draws a hood over her head and leaves the room with a soft step, you only watch, allowing the buzz in your head to follow after her and you regain your focus. You strap your sword belt to your waist, and pat the dirk upon your chest, making sure is nothing out of place.

Then a noise, your ears catch it and you watch the door. It was a heavy noise. Three of them. Boots upon wood. That wasn’t the elder lady from before. Your body is frozen, hand upon sword, shaking it loose, the other gripping the dirk fully. They stop, before your door, a voice is heard, another, then the drawing of a crossbow and a soft plunk when it is in place.

And then chaos. The door slams open, you pull your weapons, three men enter, one standing at the door with a myrish crossbow, the other two daggers. The former fires and you drop to the floor.

Roll 4d6 for Agility

Hah hah more lewd.

Rolled 4, 3, 4, 2 = 13 (4d6)

>>43522363

Rolled 2, 4, 2, 4 = 12 (4d6)

>>43522363
The fuck!!

Rolled 4, 3, 3, 1 = 11 (4d6)

>>43522363
Just like back in essos.

We have been in Dorne for not even a day and already someone is trying to kill us!

>>43522416
Man, it's like being a sellsword all over again.

I like it.

>>43522416
Guess it's a Tuesday for Brynden.

>>43522416

They're really going all out to make us feel at home.

Right, Crownlands, check, Dorne, check
Making the eight soon, lads.

Fucking... Fuck man we can't even tell anyone about this! Tell Arryn or Dontos, what are you doing in a whorehouse literally an our removed from landing in Dorne? Fucking hell man!

>>43522488
We can tell Jon, just not Dontos.

>>43522488
Anon. Half our group is most likely in a whorehouse. Not going to a whorehouse in Dorne is like visiting Paris and not seeing the eiffel tower

>>43522488
>"What were you doing in a Dornish whorehous... never mind"

Its not like it's not totally in-character for us.

>>43522488
>>43522504
>>43522512
>>43522516

We will just tell everyone we were visiting on of those famed water gardens.

Well I think it's safe to say that Lady Obella "almost got us killed" qorgyle owes US a favor now.

>Jon is having the same chill running down his spine everytime Robert fucked up.
>Robert is having the same chill running down his spine everytime Jon chew out his ass because he fucked up.
>Ned is having the same chill running down his spine everytime Robert fucked up and Jon chewed his ass alongside Robert's.
>William is having a chill running down his spine like he's about to get his ass chewed out while he haven't done anything beside brooding for a year.

>>43522553
We were probably going to get jumped by the pro-war crowd sooner or later anyway, The hand is more responsible for this for inviting us to dorne in the first place.

>>43522553
This could be becuase of Iliad

Success, one degree.

You press yourself against the ground. Not even a bloody day, and someone is trying to kill you. It’s like you’re back in Essos, some rival sellsword after your contract, trying to catch you with your pants down, literally. All three bolts slam into the far stone wall and the man at the door curses you in Illiad’s tongue. Well that was unexpected. The other two move in brandishing their weapons and hoping to catch you while you were prone. Your eyes catch the furthest near the table with the wine and you swing a leg around and kick it at him, the decanter crashes to the floor and the table catches him in the gut, winding him. You use the momentum from the kick the swing the rest of your body around and roll to the side as the other man takes a dig at you with his dagger, swinging and missing straight into the floorboards.

You find yourself on your back and kip up, longsword and dagger in hand. Illiad liked to fight like this and you had practiced it occasionally as well with him, never knew when you would be in need. The one you caught earlier has recovered and is charging you, taking multiple stabs at you’re loosely armored body with his dagger. You catch them on your sword and dodge the others, you take a stab back and catch his wrist, eliciting a scream. Beyond the door you can hear the screams and calls of the brothel. The myrman finds himself distracted by the young lad from earlier suddenly crashing into him from behind, his sword drawn. He eyes you and you give him a nod, his sword launching into an assault of the man.

Meanwhile your other attacker is on you now. both men are poorly practiced taking multiple quick stabs at you without any sort of discipline or practice. You catch one dagger on the pronged hilt of your dirk and punch the other man in the eye with your sword hand sending him reeling.

Roll 5d6+1 for Fighting.

Rolled 2, 4, 3, 5, 3 + 1 = 18 (5d6 + 1)

>>43522633
Man Brynden gets in some shit

Rolled 1, 6, 6, 4, 6 + 1 = 24 (5d6 + 1)

>>43522633

Rolled 3, 2, 3, 3, 4 + 1 = 16 (5d6 + 1)

>>43522633

>>43522633

What's with all the boners for myrish crossbows? They're pretty much strictly worse than regular crossbows

>>43522648
>>43522653
>>43522660

Damn son look at that 24. Brynden mad.

>>43522653
Holy shit. Beast mode activated

>>43522672
That's Bordain-tier mad.

Rolled 2, 2, 4, 1, 4 + 1 = 14 (5d6 + 1)

>>43522633
well

>>43522681
They totally ruined our awesome mood Obella put us in

>>43522663
I like them as set pieces, not so much for their functional value.

And yeah, someone guessed why this is happening.

Thread theme activate

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SBATrLRWySg

>>43522712
Damn it Illiad! Wait did he tell Brynden everything yet?

>>43522738
Nope. We have literally no idea what's going on.

It's glorious.

>>43522738
Not back yet.

You don't just teleport because you got on a ship.

>>43522600
Yeah but there's no reason not to make her THINK we blame her

>>43522750
>>43522751
I had thought Illiad had gotten back before Brynden left. I know people don't just teleport on a ship. Please don't be condescending for forgetting some things.

Success, three degrees.

He attempts to throw a punch at your elbow but you catch it in your other arm, wrapping it up and pulling him closer to you. Your eyes are on fire, the emerald green, wildfire, they raze his own and his face drops into fear. He did not know of what he had been hired to do, of whom he was suppose to kill. You were Brynden Malroy, a sellsword playing at Lord if Ser Preston Greenfield had spoken true, at least you hadn’t forgotten who you once were. Your face turns into a smile and his own drains into white, and you crack your head into his own. The force of your forehead upon his nose elicit a satisfying crunch and you are sure you have broken it. He stumbles out of your grip, dropping his dagger, and falling over to the floor gripping his nose crying in pain. In a moment you’re on him, your dirk digging into his neck and twisting with cruelty before pulling out, his eyes are wide and he sputters out last words with blood upon them.

Turning you find the other man attempting to get a stab into your back, you glance to the side, but it catches your swordarm, a deep gash tears your sleeve and the red attempts to stain the black cloth. You curse the man and swing your sword back, practiced, but not precise like Dontos. The fighting style of a sellsword, of a man fighting for his life in the Free Cities. Just like you were by the Son’s side again. He rolls off to the side, being a fair degree more practiced than his comrade, and takes up the dagger of his fallen comrade before launching himself at you, is assault redoubled, each block is followed by a dodge or attempting to catch one of the swings in the hilt of your dagger.

To your side you see the young man from before taking a sword wound to his arm but pressing on regardless, his buckler waving in the myrman’s face to distract him before taking short jabs at him. You refocus on your attacker, both of his arms cutting at you sideways, you catch them both on the edge of your longsword and drag them down to the hilt in a screeching motion. Your eyes lock with his and he spits at you. Bloody bastard.

Roll 5d6+1 for Fighting.

>>43522738
Not quite. In the timeline, Illiad's thread occurred two months ago. He should get back roughly the same time Brynden gets back to Steadhold.

Rolled 2, 4, 3, 2, 5 + 1 = 17 (5d6 + 1)

>>43522907

Lets rock

Rolled 6, 4, 2, 3, 2 + 1 = 18 (5d6 + 1)

>>43522907

Rolled 6, 3, 1, 2, 1 + 1 = 14 (5d6 + 1)

>>43522907

Rolled 1, 5, 6, 1, 3 + 1 = 17 (5d6 + 1)

>>43522907
ere we go!

Rolled 1, 4, 5, 4, 5 + 1 = 20 (5d6 + 1)

>>43522907
Seven take the wheel

Rolled 6, 4, 6, 1, 4 + 1 = 22 (5d6 + 1)

>>43522907
Cunt. Cut his gut open and leave a dragon inside.

Rolled 1, 2, 5, 3, 4 + 1 = 16 (5d6 + 1)

>>43522907

Come on Brynden

>>43522926
>>43522928
>>43522931

Not bad, not bad at all.

So. We have spent less than 3 hours in the city and we have already fucked a dark skinned girl and now we are killing someone who wants to kill us. This is Essos!

>>43522987

They really want us to feel at home.

Success, two degrees.

Your dagger swings up and takes him in the side, the leathers stop it to a degree and you gave it a deep twist digging into flesh. He bounces back and grips his side, spitting in your general direction again. What a fucking cunt. Tasting the blood now dripping from his side his eyes turn narrow and he launches at you again, his strikes were aggressive but he was losing a step, his right side preventing the arm from fully moving through the motion. But his strikes are still true, one catches onto your dagger, but avoids your longsword, falling down onto your leg that was far too extended to be safe. It punctures your flesh and you stifle a scream attempting to draw it back, only forcing the cut down further.

Your sword arm latches out, seeing the opening his arm being held out so far gives and you dig into his shoulder, the blade catching in the bone but skewering leather and flesh, leaving the arm almost useless. His voice become guttural, screaming in myrish for mercy, the only word you caught, but you allowed him none. Instead your dirk twists the dagger from his hand and buries itself into his gut, striking across it, allowing the entrails to wrap themselves upon the prongs and being ripped out with your ending thrust.

He falls to the ground, his eyes wide and clouded with pain. You allow your sword to drop with him and realize that the crossbowman is down on the ground spitting out the last of his blood, the young man from before nursing his arm. Onlookers from across the brothel look into your room and the elder lady from before dots after the lad. You cross the room with a half hobble, and rip the man from his seated position and thrust him to the ground, and he scrambles backwards, coming to a stop on the wall. Your dagger digs into his throat, a trickle of blood begins

He calls you a cunt in Myrish and you press harder his words turning to mercy. You growl at him, “Who sent you?”

Roll 4d6+2 for Intimidate.

Rolled 4, 6, 5, 6 + 2 = 23 (4d6 + 2)

>>43523131

Rolled 6, 6, 6, 1 + 2 = 21 (4d6 + 2)

>>43523131

Dontos is going to be pissed when we return all bleeding and shit

Rolled 2, 3, 5, 4 + 2 = 16 (4d6 + 2)

>>43523131

>>43523150
>>43523153
>>43523158

Jesus that 23. Brynden REALLY mad.

>>43523150
>>43523153

Damn son, you scary.

Rolled 4, 1, 1, 1 + 2 = 9 (4d6 + 2)

>>43523131

Make him shit himself

>>43523167
Apparently Dorne-sex brings out the rage in him

>>43523178

i'll just stop rolling in this thread.

>>43523167
What, no. That's not from him being mad, he's just 'in the zone' because of how familiar this all is.

>>43523198

Yup. We're more in our comfort zone than we have been since we got back to Westeros.

>>43523167
Diene brings out the best in us apparently

>>43523225
Dorne. Fucking autocorrect

>>43523198
If the rumors are true, we only enter buildings on swinging rope and often leave at the swordpoint of angry fathers.

>>43523242
Working for interests other than ours, that might get us killed?
Conspiracy, plot and intrigue?
Secret liaisons with hot women?
Fighting armed men with mysterious employers?

We're in our element here. Adventure 4 lyfe yo.

Success, three degrees.

His words fall to myrish and you catch only this or that, of course your assassins wouldn’t speak common tongue. Your eyes bury into him, the emerald flame of wildfire suddenly silencing him, you felt the heat of your hand transferring to the dirk in your hand. This felt right, felt like home. Fighting in taverns, killing those foolish enough to make such a pass at you. But this wasn’t home, it wasn’t even close. You weren’t in Essos, far away in Dorne, no… Home was Steadhold. Where you were a Lord. A sellsword playing at Lord, the words echoed in your head and you pushed them aside.

“In the common tongue man!” you yell at him, removing your dagger from his throat and gripping his collar to pull his eyes to yours fully.

“I… Do not speak,” he mutters out, partially in trade tongue, you could work with that.

“Who, send you, to kill?” you ask half broken.

“Magister. Myr.”

Your eyes clouded with confusion, who the hell in Myr would want you dead? Your dagger takes a slice across his exposed chest, “You lie.”

He screams in pain, keeping your mind from your own, “No lie! Magister! Slave!”

“Who’s a slave?”

“I! I!”

You stop, he wasn’t a hired sword, he was literally property. He had been trained like Illiad’s brother to kill, to fight, to do as he was bid. You put your dagger away, the smell of piss assaults your nose and you realize how scared the man was. He was dying as it was, in his last moments he only knew fear. Your wrath calms, your eyes less a roaring fire and more the simmering glows of the end.

“Give me name, and I will give mercy,” you say.

He points at your chest, and you nod, he gulps down a swallow of blood and stammers out a word you only partially catch, “Osten.”

You hardly knew it, it begged familiarity with your mind but you could not place it, it tasted poorly on your lips though. His hand had gripped your sleeve, begging. And you redraw the dirk, and place it upon his neck, he coughs again, his eyes running with tears, his nose bloody snot. You draw, your eyes closing in a gift of mercy. His last words are the repeated name, “Osten. Osten. Ooo…”

His grip falls and his eyes fall, you attempt to stand, and suddenly remember the searing pain in your leg, the deep cut preventing you from moving properly, your knee buckles and the lad from before comes to your aid and you attempt to push him off.

“Please milord! You are hurt! My Nan will help you!” he begs, standing at a respectable distance his hand raised to you.

Your eyes glance about, taking in the horror tinged faces of those about you. His Nan looks at you with her scrunched face from the door. You sigh and attempt to stand fully. It would be a struggle back to Spear Tower, but Benjin could patch you up… But the boy did help you.

>Leave to Old Palace and have Benjin take care of your wounds
>Allow the boy’s Nan to take care of your wounds before you travel back

>>43523497
>Allow the boy’s Nan to take care of your wounds before you travel back

Best to get the bleeding under control at least. Benjin can look after we get back.

>>43523497
>Allow the boy’s Nan to take care of your wounds before you travel back
Might as well. If it's cut a tendon no Maester's fixing that. And better to not have a routine; someone sent those killers after us

>>43523497
>Allow the boy’s Nan to take care of your wounds before you travel back


Remember to loot the corpses!

Also Bejin can finish the fix up. Best we dont bleed all over the place.

>>43523497
>>Allow the boy’s Nan to take care of your wounds before you travel back
But have Benjin take a look when we get there

>>43523497
>>Allow the boy’s Nan to take care of your wounds before you travel back

I don't think hobbling back bleeding out is a good call. And damn, did not expect this much shit to happen

>>43523497
>>Allow the boy’s Nan to take care of your wounds before you travel back

>>43523545
Luckily it isn't a tendon, just a hell of gash.

>>43523597
Will it make a good scar?

>>43523609
Probably, since Nan's not likely to use the curved sutures the Maester would've. Better to drown the wound with boiling wine once she's done.

>>43523798
Just imagining B's scar list:
Where i got this:
Brothel house
Brothel house
Brothel house
Lady's mansion
Battlefield
Brothel house
Brothel house
Brothel house

>>43523847

>Assassins keep thinking they can catch me with my pants down. Yeah buddy, like no one's ever tried THAT before.

>>43523886
At least they had the courtesy to wait until we were finished.

Your eyes come back to the boy, he had looked a defiant teenager before but now, the look of fear and youth sat upon his face. It’s likely he’s never had to use that sword before, let alone killed a man with it, his only solace likely that you dealt the finish blow. You drop your arm and bid him over wordlessly. He comes cautiously, to your weak side and gathers you under his shoulders pulling you up with a good bit of a groan from you. His nan waves after and you limp down the brothel, onlookers peeking from their rooms before disappearing, she leads you to a small room with two beds and you’re placed upon one roughly from the boy who apologizes profusely when you grunt in pain.

“Fetch wine boy, and bandages,” she says and goes to work on tear off the rest of your pant leg. He runs off and you watch her movements, she is practiced, not like Benjin would be but enough to be functional. You grip the side of the bed when she opens to wound to inspect it, “Not a tendon, milord. You are lucky.”

“I wouldn’t call this lucky, madam..?”

“Nan is fine. It is what they all call me.”

You grimace when she shuts the wound again, the boy comes back, she takes a bit of the wine and begins to heat it, the other she pours into a cup, “Drink. Will help with the pain.”

You take the cup and down it immediately, allowing your head to swim. The boy suddenly appears to your side and forces a leather strap into your mouth and she allows you no moments of wait pouring the wine into the wound. The unexpected nature of it causes you to finally scream out in pain and pound the ever living hells out of the bedside table.

“Bandages,” she says and you spit out the leather, breathing heavily.

You wished to distract your mind and fall to the bed, regarding the boy, he was a dusty youth, the salty features of Dorne obvious on his features, “Lad. What’s your name?”

“Orion, milord. Some call me Orion Sand, but I don’t think my father a Lord.”

You nod, “Where did you learn to fight lad?”

“I taught myself milord.”

“Your sword?”

“I bought, Nan needed a bodyguard,” he says sheepishly.

Your eyes roll to the ceiling and you lip wordlessly as Nan works on your arm next. You rest a moment longer, the boy collecting the bodies, and looking for anything of worth on them. Only one of them carries anything of worth a couple of coins from Myr, the rest useless junk. When they’re finished you’re pulled up, but the pressure on your leg still causes you a great degree of pain. Orion looks at you nervously, while Nan frowns and shakes her head.

“Let the boy take you back,” she says giving you a stern stare. You want to argue, but know you’d never make it back on this leg. Relenting you allow the youth to gather you under his shoulder again and you make your long trek back to Old Palace.

By the time you arrive the pain is so blinding you almost pass out under the midafternoon sun, even as it wanes in the sky, the guards gave you a moment of trouble before you pulled your cloak back and demanded they let you pass. The boy keeps looking about skittishly, knowing he doesn’t belong. For a moment you think yourself alone before a swarm of people descend upon you, the buzz of their words finally get to your swimming head and you allow the darkness to take you.

---

You see fleeting moments while you’re taken to your room, Dontos is on your left, screaming to anyone that is in your way to leave, Orion on your right, seemingly afraid to leave. Benjin comes to your aid and frowns at Nan’s handy work, beginning to reclean and stitch the wound closed properly, milk of poppy keeps you in a trance for the duration. And you awake deep into the night, the soft murmur of the feast below catching your ear from the window. The room is dark sans a single candle, across from you near the window is the figure of the Hand of the King, Lord Jon Arryn. You groan, half in pain and dislike of the situation. He turns, a piece of paper in his hand, and regards you with grey eyes, clearly unhappy.

“Lord Malroy,” he says, crossing the room and taking a seat.

“Lord Arryn,” you respond groggily attempting to shift upwards and meet him entirely, no little effect.

He sits and draws his arms across his chest, “Yet again you find yourself the talk of the courts my Lord. Though hardly for good reason. Tell me my Lord Malroy, what in the Seven Hells happened?”

You sit quietly, your words leaving you. His gaze was heavy, completely disregarding the heat of your own.

>Tell Lord Arryn the truth?
>Make something up? (Specific)

>>43524046
They didn't like my version of the dornishmen wifes..
>notice the plural.

>>43524046
>Make something up? (Specific)

"Someone attempted to mug me, i made them regret it"

>>43524046
>Tell Lord Arryn the truth?
About the attack at least.

When lieing, always tell a portion of the truth, it lets you use the details and be as convincing as possible.

Give him the name we were told as well. Investigating it should steer him clear of why we were at a distant whore house and not a more reputable one nearby.

>>43524046
Well, I honestly don't see anything damning about "prince doran is trying to have me seduced into what I was already going to do in the first place, and also people tried to kill me but I'm not really sure why?"

>>43524108
Ide rather leave that off since we know jon is smart enough to figure out they will want something from us in return. If we are going to prospectively marry obella, or any dornish woman for that matter, its better to have it on more even ground.

>>43524046
>>Tell Lord Arryn the truth?

>So there I was, balls deep into this wench, when those guys barges in and yell that I stolen the virtue of their sisters or something.
>"All 6 of them?" was my response, and that's how it went

>>43524153
My thought is there's a good chance he'll investigate why the hell myr is trying to sabotage peace talks, and find out we were meeting with Obella on his own, and I'd rather get in front of that

>>43524046
>Tell Lord Arryn the truth?

Partially, as for why we were there, tell him we went to a brothel, first day being back on dry land and all. He'll understand Bobby B did it too.

>>43524046
Well Lord Arryn everyone thinks me a sells word playing at being Lord and lusty as hell. I figured try and use it to our advantage. Meeting with the Lary was part of it but being attacked was something new. Almost made it feel like being back in Essoss.

>>43524231
>My thought is there's a good chance he'll investigate why the hell myr is trying to sabotage peace talks
Well, not so long ago the free cities attempted to band together and conquer westeros, to parcel the land out to various merchant lords. Could be the chaos of another civil war so close on the heels of robert's rebellion would let them try again.

>>43524231
So long as we do not actually lie we should be fine.

We went to a brothel etc etc.
Plus here in dorne he has a much weaker network to work with. Doubtful he would get much info other than its a brothel.

>>43524087
>>43524046
changing to
>Tell Lord Arryn the truth?

>>43524285
That makes investigating MORE important, not less
.

We could just say she was a good fuck in Kingslanding and we wanted another go

Alright it looks like we're going to tell Arryn the truth but partially. The reason for our being in a whorehouse.

>Tell him of the meeting with Obella
>Lie, a la >>43524251

>>43524324
Or that we wanted to see her again and maybe find some info out about her.

Its not like hes new to love struck fools going after women.

>>43524375
>Lie, a la >>43524251

>>43524324
"Someone in dorne is trying to turn me into an asset, and I'm too politically naive to realize it!"

>>43524375
Tell him

>>43524375
>Lie, a la >>43524251 #

>>43524375
>Lie, a la >>43524251

>>43524375
Tell him
Obella wants what Jon wants anyway

>>43524375
>>Lie, a la >>43524251

>>43524453
Also wants us to spy on him.
How he takes that, being a high man of honour and integroty, is probably not well.

>>43524469
He's also a man of realpolitik. He'll probably say. 'Great, I'll let you know what you're allowed to tell them.'

>>43524495
We can use this as an unofficial line of communication between the Hand and Prince Doran, which is an excellent asset. The trouble will be making sure Lady Qorgyle is Prince Doran's spy only.

>>43524375
>Tell him of the meeting with Obella

>>43524532
>>43524495
Good points. Changing mah vote if there is still time
>>43524433
>>43524375
>Tell him of the meeting with Obella

If we do tell him, please dont tell him who exactly we met with. No names of the dornish side, only little birds.

>>43524664

Well... Shit, I'm halfway through writing. Yeah I guess I can change it. Since it's a pretty big deal.

>>43524703
Yeah, I haven't voted yet and I'll also go behind telling him Doran wants a spy/unofficial line of communication.


Deny any knowledge of the guys who tried to kill us. As far as we're concerned that's just life in Dorne

>>43524737
Not exactly. we know they were not dornish, and we got a name. Jon would have the resources to find out who said name belongs to.

I love Dorne

Shit like this is why I can't decide between Obella and Giselle

>>43524808
Wait for third route Lannister waifu

>>43524808
You sound like the kind of guy who wants excitement without any of the risks.

>>43524737
>>43524759
Eh I really do think 'trying to sabotage peace talks' is a fair assumption.

>Arryn: What did you do?
>Brynden:Alright. But you can't be mad at me.
>What did you do?
>Okay, first, I was minding my own business-
>(Slams hand on table) BULLSHIT!!!
>(Whining) I was!
>And exactly what happened whilst you were "minding your own business?"
>So I was just balls deep in this wench like a baller, and then all of a sudden these schmucks kicked in the door!
>One of them yelled out, "Get on your knees!"
>and I responded with: I'm not your mother last night!!
>And they took exception to that. But you know how that song and dance goes. And I killed all of them.

>>43524737
I'm pretty sure if we tell John Arryn we're involoved with a spy then mention a mugging in the same trip he'll figure it out. He's not a stupid fellow.

>>43524888
No I mean we say they kicked in the door and tried to kill us, we just don't have any idea why. Which is 90% true anyway.

>>43524908
100% True as far as B knows.

>>43524860
Hmm? No I mean this is awesome and its a point in Obellas favour.

>>43524946
Ah, my bad.
Well look at it this way: Out of the two women looking to manipulate us, at least one is getting us in balls deep to do so.

>>43524879
>Time for some enthusiatic walks through the brothels

>>43524879
>One of them yelled out, "Get on your knees!"
>and I responded with: I'm not your mother last night!!
>And they took exception to that

We need to use this line when recounting this story to Arryn

You were unsure of how to respond, Lady Obella’s words still sat in your mind, but Lord Arryn… He did nothing but help you. The grandfather you never had, with patient word and solid counsel, aiding you when he had no reason to. You could not betray his trust.

“I was in… In a brothel,” you begin and he remains silent, rubbing his eyes in frustration, you remove Obella’s note from your breast pocket and hand it to him, “Upon invitation. From Lady Obella Qorgyle.”

He reads the note, long in the dim light and regards you again, “Why?”

“Because… She wanted something.”

“My Lord, is there something more to that statement?”

You shift uncomfortably, casting your gaze to the floor, “Yes my Lord… Much.”

You recount your rather intimate encounter with Obella and explain to Lord Arryn the circumstances of your first meeting, and subsequent meeting thereafter. How she wished your voice upon his ear, and his words to her and Prince Doran, at least so much as your surmised. In exchange she gave you instruction, the ability to convince her brother Lord Quentyn Qorgyle to your side and to put down arms.

“If you speak true my Lord then this is a greater boon than I could have expected. I was aware of Prince Doran’s diswant for war… We simply need put pieces in place,” he says, stroking his hairless chin before turning to you again, a more stern look upon his face, “However Lord Malroy, we have spoken of this, numerous times. Fighting in taverns and now brothels. You are not in Essos, you are a Lord.”

“I did not start this!” you yell in retort, your voice as unhappy as his, “I had just… Finished and was ready to leave. And then three men assaulted me.”

His eyes trace yours and then his own hands, “And you escaped with only a injury and a scratch?”

“I’m a sellsword playing at Lord, or so they tell me,” you offer, your voice calmed, attempting jest, “In truth I was aided by the boy that brought me here.”

Lord Arryn’s eyes cast to the door, “He still waits for you, refuses to leave. I told the guards leave him be for now.”

He was a defiant youth, not unlike yourself, not the smartest of boys, but you at least owed him a word. Turning to Lord Arryn again you continue, at least you would tell him some truth, “They were Myrmen, my Lord. Slaves them all if the one left alive after spoke true.”

“Slave assassins? Shadows of your past Lord Malroy?”

“I… I don’t know. They said they were sent by a Magister… Osten was the only name I caught. I feel like I know the name, but not from where.”

He grimaces and turns his attentions to the paper in hand, “Prince Doran is worried my Lord. They speak of this amongst Old Palace like an assassination was in the works from those loyal to Prince Oberyn. Such a thing… It would have made this all for naught. War would have been declared immediately, King Robert stands upon the thinnest of threads for patience with Dorne as it is. It was only by small miracle I convinced him to allow this. The information you have given me will help immensely to calm the tongues of those Lords that had come with, but the reason for your assault must remain a secret.”

“A secret?”


“Yes, you cannot be seen as a danger my Lord for more… Delicate proposals. You were involved in a brawl, a lucky strike caught your leg. Nothing more, nothing less. Few will question your location of choice. Fewer still will care. That they are dead will silence any tongues for calls of justice. Is this understood?”

You tilt your head to the side in quiet thought before answering, “Yes my Lord Hand. It is understood.”

“Be sure that it is not forgotten then Lord Malroy. For this… Magister. We will speak of this at a later time. Lord Varys should be able to spread light on the subject, little as I dislike using his services. I dislike the thought immensely of Myr being so bold again,” he finishes and stands, his poorer knee being unhappy for the attention in the face of the cool Dornish nights, “For now, rest my Lord. Tomorrow you will come to court with myself and the other Lords. If what your Lady Obella spoke is true we will begin our work on Lord Quentyn tomorrow. I certainly hope you will be able to ride, I understand hawking is a preferred past time of his.”

The Hand leaves off with a few parting words and you sit quiet, in cold thought. Not exactly the day you had been expecting, had you done right by telling Lord Arryn of Obella’s plans? You were unsure. The dim words of the feast below continue into the night, Dontos arrives later with a plate of food, aware of what occurred to the extent that Lord Arryn had announced to the feast not moments later after leaving you alone. He was unhappy, to say the least, but you weathered this storm. It was worthwhile to do so. Victus had sat outside chatting with Orion, who you had forgotten, but remembered suddenly when you saw them both through the crack.

“The boy…” Dontos asks, “Should we send him away? Just give him a purse of coins and he’d be happier for it.”

You remain silent again. The boy may not know what had occurred, but he helped you all the same, and to an extent you worried for his safety, should he be left alone another might try to find him, extract details from him. And he could fight, but not well. If taught he could be far more than a brothel’s guard. Wesley needed a squire, as did Mason, but you were unsure if either would wish for one. In general, you were unsure.

>Send Orion away, give him a purse and be done with it
>Keep Orion here, for his own safety, perhaps take him into service

>>43525223
>>Send Orion away, give him a purse and be done with it

Not really sure what we can use for him and his nan needs him

>>43525223
Well ask him why he's sticking around at least.

>>43525223
>Keep Orion here, for his own safety, perhaps take him into service

Fuck it, kid helped us out.

>>43525223
>>Keep Orion here, for his own safety, perhaps take him into service
Send some money to his nan so she can get some bodyguards since we're poaching hers

>>43525223
Give him coin and send him away, it's safer for the lad in the long run.

>>43525223
Give the kid an offer. The Sons need new men afterall, but don't force the issue. We owe him.
Give him until the day before we depart to make up his mind.

>>43525252
That said I'm more inclined to send him off.

>>43525223
> keep Orion here, for his own safety, perhaps take him into service

>>43525223
>>Keep Orion here

Wesley does need a squire I suppose.

>>43525223
>>Keep Orion here, for his own safety, perhaps take him into service

I wonder if we can hire him as a guide for the duration of the trip? Get a little bird for now and size him up for a squirehood for later. It's a bit early to make that decision now.

>>43525199

>those options
Neither, really. This was a favor. The boy and his Nan are owed any reasonable recompense they want.

>>43525354

Frak how likely is it that the kid is one of Varys' birds? He is a kid who works in a brothel after all

>>43525223
>Keep Orion here, for his own safety, perhaps take him into service
I'm commander Brynden and this is my favorite team on westeros.

>>43525388
He's still got his tongue so not very.

>>43525354
Yeah that would be acceptable, you'd be here for about a month, no doubt you'll want to travel about a bit anyway.

>>43525278
Yea that sounds fair, we'll send Nan some coin, to be fair you probably should just to help with the clean up and all.

>>43525388
Varys used kids as agents in Kings Landing. Any further than that he would have to use suborned knights or lords. Children can't write letters, and certainly can't send them on ravens.

>>43525428

That was never confirmed IIRC and it seems like a dumb rumor to me. Theres no evidence for an army of mutes across the seven kingdoms. If they are used at all it's probably only for special circumstances. Also cutting out tongues is kinda dumb as a security measure when its explicitly stated that they all know how to read and write.

The Telltale series also shows one of his birds who is fully capable of speech.

>>43525223
>Keep Orion here, for his own safety, perhaps take him into service

Finally able to take part!

>>43525476

Yeah but basically anyone employed at a brothel in GoT is 90% likely to be a spy for SOMEONE

Oh yeah if Giselle ask we were mugged but we killed all 5 of them, alone.

"You're a LORD now not an essosi sellsword.
SCRATCH THAT SCRATCH THAT IT'S VITALLY IMPORTANT FOR NATIONAL SECURITY THAT EVERYONE THINK YOU'RE JUST ACTING LIKE AN ESSOSI SELLSWORD"

>>43525561
Don't take it so personally. It's frankly an excellent cover for intelligence activities. Now we just have to make sure to be a sellsword when Arryn isn't around so people don't get suspicious.

>>43525658
Oh I'm not taking it personally its just extremely funny to me.

>>43525688
It really is.
>we next have to tell the hand that in order to maintain our cover, we are going to need to create a scandal at more of these diplomatic missions.
>Theses missions start to look like opportunities for more Ladies to enjoy the Blackshaft.

>>43525723
Perfect. We can visit whorehouses with Oberyn in the interest of peace!

>>43525561
>>43525658
>>43525723


Yes, yes... ACTING like a sellsword. That's totally what I was doing, it was actually a brilliant facade! Now, it's vitally important to the future of the realm that I go get some strang, ok?

Boning whores for the good of the realm
Basically a dream job.
Best bit? Dontos cant say shit.

>>43525766
>Uncle it is paramount that i continue this! It is in the best interest of the realm

>>43525787
But Uncle, John Arryn told me to!

Hold up, is this a full Wound or just an Injury? Because if it's a wound we'll be stuck with a -1D to ALL checks for a week!

“Bring the boy in if you would Dontos,” you tell him, and pull yourself to full length.

Victus comes in first and darts to your side, clearly he is growing tired of seeing you in such a position, you ruffle his hair that has been let down from its little bun and he goes to Dontos’ side, taking his place as is proper of a squire. You notice how much he’s grown in the rough year it had been since you returned to Westeros. He’s lanky, not yet grown into the full size, if you had to guess it’s likely he’d be your height in the end, but more inclined to a leaner build.

Orion enters next, sheepishly avoiding your gaze, he bows deeply and you bid him up, his eyes remain on the floor, the defiant youth from before having drained in the night, and you find yourself needing to speak first, “Orion, why did you stay?”

“I… Erm,” he starts, rubbing the floor with his sandal, “I wanted to make sure you were well milord.”

“Then you see that I am,” you respond, “However… I am unsure if you are, did my Maester look at your arm?”

He turns his head and looks at the fresh bandage, “Yes milord. He was very kind but…”

“But?”

He stands quiet, unsure of how to respond, and you find yourself needing to speak for him again, “But, you would like to offer services. Is that right?”

His eyes finally meet yours and they glimmer with a hope, his words did not allow him to speak his want, but they did and you smile slightly.

“I find need of a guide for the duration of my stay Orion. Should you prove useful, perhaps I may find need of your services beyond. Yes?”

“Yes, milord, of course. I know every back street of Sunspear! And where the best food is… And…”

>>43525906
Probably an injury, Dad wouldn't do anything that evil

“And more I am sure,” you say stopping his mess of words, “My Uncle will give you a purse, return it to your Nan. Be sure she is paid for the mess that was caused earlier, and to spend a bit more of security for her establishment. Then return here. Yes?”

“Of course milord!” he says, his smile broad and happy.

You send him off and Dontos goes to find a suitable token and purse for him. Victus stays awhile with you, eating his own meal alongside yours, happy with the spices of it reminding him of Essos. He tells you of his prayers today in the Sept of Sunspear and how beautiful it was, almost beyond the Great Sept. Benjin returns later to make sure you are fine and tells you of the absolute uproar you had caused, Lord Dondarrion had gotten into a heated argument with Lord Yronwood over it and they needed to be separated later on. You pinch your the bridge of your nose wishing to tell him the truth of it but hold your tongue for the Hand’s want. Feeding you another dosage of poppy you drift off to sleep.

---

“Lord Brynden Malroy, Lord of Steadhold, sworn to House Baratheon of King’s Landing!” the herald calls as you enter the great hall of Old Palace, your walk was with a bit of a limp, not entirely of pain but enough to be noticeable. Heads turn to regard you, a few seemingly noting the silver mane of hair you sported proudly. You take their looks in and continue walking to the dias where Lord Arryn stood with the Princes. You bow as well as you can to them and are given leave to rise. The great hall is milling about with the many Lords of the Realm and of Dorne, Prince Doran was holding court today, the Hand of the King at his side, a pretense to mix the Lords and for softer words to be spoken.

Across the way you see Ser Grover and Lady Giselle, chatting with a Lord of the Reach, a Dalt if you remembered the sigil right, she eyes you slightly and smiles before turning her attentions back to the Dalt man.

Further away you see the black scorpions upon scarlet of House Qorgyle, and who you assume to be Lord Quentyn speaking his a member of House Santagar. A short opportunity for introductions, perhaps put word in ear.

>Speak with Lord Quentyn Qorgyle
>Speak with Ser Grover and Lady Giselle

>>43525906
Just an injury. The only time you've taken a wound was the Melee. Its part of the reason you took out three Knights and almost Ser Preston.

>>43525993
Your just playing with us now.

Anyway, if we are going to do as Lady Qorgyle asks, a good way to do so is to get introduced through them.

>Speak with Lord Quentyn Qorgyle

>>43525561
It is rather humorous.

Lord Arryn is playing to your strengths at this point. He expects you to make the right decisions given the circumstances. And in the end when it comes to things like marriage, managing your lands, and being a Lord he expects you to conduct yourself properly. Suddenly building brothels and gambling dens in Steadhold would not exactly be what he meant.

>>43525993
>>Speak with Lord Quentyn Qorgyle

Ha-ha! Time to intrigue

>>43525993
>Speak with Lord Quentyn Qorgyle
stick to the plan

>>43525993
>>Speak with Lord Quentyn Qorgyle

>>43525993

>Speak with Ser Grover and Lady Giselle
No need to come running straight back to her. We're not a puppy.

>>43526031

What exactly are our strengths? Being seen as the easy to seduce member of the team, while being able to think with the big head and the little head at the same time? Being able to seduce our seducer while they seduce us?

>>43526105
Its her brother and some Dornish lord. Not Obella.

I would suggest we mill around a bit and meet folks as we go, but wander in that direction.

Looks less suspicious to any watchers (which there will be) and lets us meet interesting folk.

>>43526157
Ah, I misread that.

Disregard me I suck cocks.

I'm thinking of hooking up with Giselle now if only to make people less likely to look too deeply into our dealings with Obella.

Think about it everyone will just assume we'd be have an affair and trying to keep it quiet and so sneak about. No one would really think we're acutaully agents of Prince Doran and the Hand keeping a secret line of dialogue.

>>43526146
The way I write it? Yep that's about it. It's kind of funny the contrast in Brynden at home to Brynden in the field. Steadhold is really in good shape, being Lorded over properly. Outside of the Redward and Langward bullshit around you.

But every time he gets out suddenly essossi sellsword Brynden comes out. Making deals with foreign bankers, getting in fights, making sweet love to the ladies of the realm. Hell even the archery contest was Brynden playing to his strengths. It's kind of comical at this point.

Anyway, let me get a drink and a piss real quick. I'm on a good roll tonight, feeling good about the thread.

>>43526200
Less suspicious of what ? Meeting new people at court ?

>>43526235
I think you are waaaay overthinking it

>>43526235
Yes. This. Seconded

Vitally important to national security.

So how many house fortune rolls are we gonna have to make when we get back to Steadhold? 3?

>>43526279
Previous connections.

If you mingle while wandering in that direction and just so happen to run into said family, no big deal.

Bee line and you look suspicious as fuck. "Something is going on between those people" which will cause people to do some digging.

>>43526235
>>43526279
>>43526286

It actually is a good idea even without the memery. Going on a beeline straight for Obella would make what's going on fairly obvious.

>>43526308
But we have no previous connections to them it is not known in public that we know Obella, only Arryn does. And there is nothing suspicious of introducing yourself to know people at court

>>43526299
You only need to roll once every three months iirc. I could be wrong about how dad runs his quest though.

>>43526333

Well it would be pretty unfair to miss out on 2 months of income

>>43526299
2.

One for the month you were away and the other for the beginning of the month you'll be in when you get back. Mason is currently taking good care of Steadhold, has patrols of the Sons going up and down the Goldroad, your infantry and archers getting drilled everyday. He's a pretty great Master-at-Arms and only second to Dontos in warfare skill.

>>43526332
You are missing the entire point of the suggestion not to beeline to someone we have secret connections to (peripherally).

>>43526366
Speaking of Warfare skills. Brynden should really improve his. Is there a Big Book of War in Westeros ?

>>43526252
>I'm on a good roll tonight, feeling good about the thread.

Maybe a double thread?

Or will this thread be the only one, albeit longer than usual?

(I'm fine with it either way)

>>43526332
That we do not have any known connection is exactly what makes heading straight for them suspicious! There are dozens of people we could be introducing ourselves to, why qorgyle?

Yoooo has Obella fucked Oberyn?

>>43526522
Half of Dorne has fucked Oberyn, Bet Brynden is gonna end up in a threesome with Oberyn and Ellaria

Brynden will be in the middle

>>43526366
Quick question about Mason, is his shield a USC reference? seemed to specific to be coincidental

Stick to the plan, short introductions, begin to work on getting to know Lord Qorgyle. Lady Giselle turns her eyes back to the Dalt Knight, no doubt making an attempt at courting her, a fool’s notion in the presence of her brother you think. Along your way you make smalltalk with other Lords and Knights of the realm, a few stopping you to wish you well in your recovery. A Knight of House Wells speaks with you at length about your little brawl, amused by the notion at such a crucial night. You pry from him his stance on the peace talks, finding he is more inclined to side with Lord Arryn. He had lost a brother in the Rebellion at the Battle of the Trident and ill liked the thought of marching to war again.

Begging leave of Ser Wells you finally make your appearance before Lord Qorgyle, being lucky to have caught his attention rather than the other way around. You finish your hobbles and bow to the Lord, receiving the same from himself and the Knight of House Santagar.

“Lord Qorgyle, a pleasure,” you say with a degree of dignity not afforded by the way you had approached.

“Lord Malroy, the same,” he says and you both rise, “May I introduce Ser Symon Santagar, the Knight of House Santagar.

“Pleased to make your acquaintance my Lord,” he says with a nod. You recognize the spotted leopard and was glad for Benjin’s instructions.

“Rather interesting night you had I am told Lord Malroy,” Lord Qorgyle continues, “Usually a Knight or small retainer would experience such upon his first visit to Sunspear, daring for someone to attack a Lord so brazenly. Your thoughts Ser Symon?”

“No doubt old loyalties die hard my Lord. A foolish action all the same.”

“Well said Ser, Lord Malroy your thoughts?”

You chew over the thought a bit, you were unsure if they were poking fun at you or being serious in their idle chatter you decide on a rather neutral response, “Foolish and daring both. Though not so much as I can handle.”

Lord Qorgyle laughs to your statement, “So we are told my Lord, the talk of the court in King’s Landing if what I have heard is to be believed. A second son, come home after the Rebellion, a sellsword with an aim unmatched. Quite the tale they’ve put together of you my Lord.”

“Not inaccurate though,” you respond with your own laugh allowing it to play upon your lips like Ser Victor’s would, “My aim is unmatched being the greatest of these truths.”

“You have not been in Dorne much then my Lord,” Ser Symon says, “Archery is like second nature to the Dornish, your greatest archer a mere novice in the presence of our own. In fact Lord Qorgyle is near unparalleled upon a horse.”

Lord Qorgyle puffs his chest up and you keep yourself from rolling your eyes, not just prideful but one that enjoyed his ego being played to. Easier a target than you had expected in truth. You need only be his equal, push the man to a mutual respect and then begin working on his thoughts.

“Well so long as my boasts are backed up by accomplishments rather than spoken word I am content in my skill level, my Lord,” you say maintaining your dancing smile.

“Oh yes, the champion of the archery contest in the King’s Wedding Celebration, I will admit defeating a Summer Islander are far greater task than could be expected of a Crownslander, but still, a pale comparison,” Ser Symon continues in response.

If the Knight fellated Lord Qorgyle any more obviously he would need his cock in his mouth you think, though Lord Qorgyle seems to enjoy it all the same. You think for a moment, a challenge, his sister had challenged you, he would no doubt share the same competitive spirit. But how, archery was your forte, but that was obvious, his passion was hawking, and you were hardly trained in such. Matters of horse seemed to be equal between the two of you.

>How would you like to challenge Lord Qorgyle? If at all.
>If not, how would you like to approach Lord Qorgyle?

>>43526487
Definitely running late, I very rarely need a double thread. I try to wrap it up before 11 or midnight my time.

>>43526522
Amusingly, no. It's a part of her character I haven't gotten to but she doesn't find him challenging enough, any slut can get with Oberyn, she has standards.

>>43527024
Yes it is! I was wondering if anyone would ever get it, I finished my degree there. There's a reference to Clemson down the line, and to Penn State, the school I started at, as well.

>>43527088
haha awesome! SC native here and CCU Alumni, glad I could be the one to catch that! Definitely made it my favorite quest. Thanks for running!

>>43527043
Could we challenge him at all three? Gives us an excuse to spend more time with him and likely allows him to save face from a loss since it's likely he'll best us at hawking.

>>43527043
I'm running out of cunning ways to approach this.
Just approach the man for a polite archery challenge. Hopefully we win, so he can save face by challenging us to some hawking. Even if we lose, we can challenge him, although that's less good for our image.

>>43527043
Just a friendly game. Watching another master of the bow in action is a rare sight. Even more one who could lose on a horse.

>>43527043
>How would you like to challenge Lord Qorgyle? If at all.

A friendly game. Maybe make a small bet to keep it interesting

>>43527043
>How would you like to challenge Lord Qorgyle? If at all.

A friendly challenge, nothing serious, at archery, hawking, and horse riding.

Best of three wins.

Not sure what they'd be playing for, though.

>>43527140
>>43527211
Supporting this

>>43527140
>>43527211

I suppose yeah that could work. It's not so much playing for something as it is a pissing contest.

>>43527141
Lord Qorgyle is less about cunning approach and more straight forward challenges, while his sister likes to mix the two he's a martial man that enjoys gaining measuring of men through such things. There's a reason he's loyal to Oberyn, they grew up together, and it was a constant pissing contest.

>>43527119
I should reference the Chanticleers at some point now just because you recognized it.

>>43527262
you honor me sir!

Keep it simple. Just horses. I don't want to lose at archery and we're not good enough at hawking to lose gracefully. If we do horses we can barely lose or barely win, both of which get us his respect

>>43527516
Na, we should announce that we've never hawk'd before then get top rolls and beat him. It's how the Silvershaft roles

“Perhaps then a challenge Lord Qorgyle?” you offer, glinting emerald regarding him fully, his eyes matching yours with the blue of his sister, “Ser Symon here seems so sure of your prowess in all fields I would seem a fool to make it, but that’s hardly the first decision I’ve made since coming to Dorne that would seem us such.”

Ser Symon laughs, “Surely we’ve more important things things to attend to than idle pissing contests my Lord.”

“Do not presume such Ser Symon,” Lord Qorgyle cuts him off, “We all have our parts to play in these ‘peace talks’, but ours are small, Prince Doran and Lord Arryn will do far more speaking of the matter then we will ever know. Idle pissing contests are sure to pass the time far better.”

You smile to Ser Symon’s frown, clearly this was not a strange situation for the Knight, and you enjoyed matching the thoughts of Lord Qorgyle, it was his pride that caught him. And the amount of private time you would have with him, a far better way to speak and turn his thoughts elsewhere.

“A game then,” you say confirming it and he nods, “Very well. I propose… A bit of Archery, my winning pace in King’s Landing should be fair.”

“And I would suggest we hawk my Lord, in interest of introducing you to the lovely scenery of Dorne.”

You smile, he played right to you, “And a tie breaker should we need it, a horse race my Lord.”

“Against the famous Malroy horses? How could I turn down such an invitation my Lord. A contest then, of idle pissing,” Lord Qorgyle responds and laughs again, “Perhaps tomorrow then, I will be free in the afternoon, a spot of hawking?”

“As you wish my Lord, it would be an honor,” you respond and he nods, a smile equal to your own on his lips. You leave off Lord Qorgyle and Ser Symon in short order, and catch a glance of the man you swear you knew again. Court had begun, Prince Doran and his wife taking their places, Lord Arryn alongside them. The man leaves the hall from a side door, if you remembered correctly one that lead to the yard and near the stables. However you also catch Lady Giselle sitting with her brother watching the court silently.

>Join Lady Giselle and Ser Grover for court
>Follow after the man, something about how much you knew him bothered you

>>43527637
>>Follow after the man, something about how much you knew him bothered you
Chase down that plot hook!

>>43527637
>>Join Lady Giselle and Ser Grover for court