Except not today, instead you are Illiad of Myr. A man of many tongues, a dear friend of Lord Brynden, and third in command of the Sons of Gold.

Character Sheet: https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/19XClcs3HIb8cNP0JBy0vvWI5sye__4JyDdxOXsnvr5w/edit?usp=sharing

-Several Years Prior-

“Ser Mason, where in the seven bloody hells are we?”

Your head throbbed, want of thirst upon your lips, your back want of cover, medicine, something to wash away the sting of the lash and saltwater splashed upon it. This was the third time you had blacked out today, or perhaps the fourth or fifth… They blurred together, only punctuated by the occasional moment of clarity.

“I haven’t a clue Brynden, Myr is as much a mystery to me as yourself.”

Voices had awoken you, not far from where you slumped into a stockade, you attempt to open your eyes, the bright sunlight near blinding you in the effort.

“I wouldn’t call it a mystery so much as a pisswater port town. Slaves on every corner. Wealth flaunted with wild abandon, no better than King’s Landing.”

“Except those men are free.”

Free. Yes, that is what you wanted. Why you had rebelled. Freedom for yourself. Illion. Illieus. Your brothers. Slaves. Like you. Three brothers bought by a wealthy merchant, each trained with a different purpose. Illion, his craft, the crossbows of Myr, he was still young and an apprentice but quick with his hands and delicate of touch with the intricate devices. Illieus, his protection, a slave soldier as fearsome as any could hope for, numerous scars lined his body, etches of white upon bronzed skin, a body of muscle wielding a sword meant for two hands in one. And yourself, his word, you knew countless languages of the Free Cities, Valyrian both High and Low, Common Tongue, Trade Tongue, Summer Tongue, even Dothraki. You were his spokesmen, Clever. Far too clever.

“Look at that poor wretch, in Westeros men would pay to see someone of that size joust or fight in a melee. Here? His guts are crow food, strung up about his neck.”

Your blurry eyes cast across from you. You did not wish to see it again but did out of habit. Illieus. Big stupid Illieus, convinced of a plot to escape slavery. Now with his stomach sliced open, his entrails used as a noose. The crows had already had his eyes, his face a horrid mess. He shouldn’t have killed the master’s son. He would have gotten a beating of his life otherwise. Big stupid dead Illieus.

“Aye, and so will we if you don’t shut that bloody mouth of yours Brynden.”

“Ser Mason we haven’t found a single man here that speaks more than Myrish and curses. If they all suddenly understand the Common Tongue then pray someone gives us directions.”

Your eyes lingered before the voices began to come into view, clearer closer, a man with silvered hair dressed like sellsword but with a pin of gold on his cloak, followed by a man in heavy plate. Westerosi. A Lord and his Knight perhaps? Someone with money, someone that could… “Help,” your voice a bare raspy whisper. you pushed for more, begging cracked lips to spell practiced word, dry throat to give it sound.

The stop, the silver haired man- no boy, he does not look to be more than Illion’s age regarding you with a curious eye. His Knight watches with unease. You struggle more words out, coaxing what is left of a voice of many to give but a few, “H-help… Lord. Please, help.”

---

“Illiad. Wake up, ‘mon. Wake the fuck up,” Asher’s voice pulls you from dream, his hand upon your shoulder shaking you from restless sleep, “Sallo got some food, we got to meet that Dothraki soon, ‘mon.”

You nod and rub away what is left of the sleep in your eyes and pull yourself from the bed, the sixth bed since arriving in Myr two months ago. You needed to keep moving, allow your information to filter in, use what money you had for bribes and the payment of men’s honor. Asher leaves the room, his stride is long and heavy the northman axe on his side testament to how dangerous he truly was. Like Illieus. You did not wish to dwell, it was an old dream, a common one. You pull your clothing on covering scars, white streaks on brown, that still burnt, underclothes, chain, brigandine, the wear of a sellsword. The wear you had grown use to in five years amongst your Lord. You dash water throughout your hair, pulling it back and fiddling with your mustache, no longer colored, you did not wish to draw attention.

You travel down into the inn’s common room Sallo Rhod is sitting with a whetstone, sharpening his arakh as he usually did, he acknowledges you with a sharp nod and gives notice to the street food he had picked up. You dig into it, hunger consuming your mind rather than thoughts of the past.

“Are we to meet this Lanno before or after your ‘contact’, Illiad?” Sallo asks in Lysene, leery of the others about you.

You think a moment, Asher takes a seat next to you, picking up the heavily spiced kebab and sniffing it lightly, shrugging and eating it in a heavy bite. Lanno was the Dothraki contact from your years past, one of the few to leave the Sea and live among the Free Cities, he often served as middleman between the khalasars and the magisters, anytime they ventured so far south at least. He was an old friend, capable of gathering anything that was needed, such as the horses your Lord requested and he owed you a rather large favor. Your contact on the other hand was a lady servant you had known in your days as a slave, one that still knew where Illion resided. How to best get to him. How to best set him free. It still weighed heavy on your mind, having lied to Lord in such a way, the money was not for purchase of a man, but of men. Of quiet tongues, favors, eyes the other way. You would free Illion as you were freed and make your escape tonight.

Captain Thros waited in the harbor, your gathered items of Myr per Lord’s request weighing his ship down considerably. Myrish lace of varying color, furniture with carvings of horses intricately woven into their design, casks of green nectar and wine, and carefully packaged panes of glass so clear it was as if nothing was there. A handful of small tokens round these out, such as myrish lens, Victus’ with the redwood he would so love sat in your personal pouch at your side, small wooden carvings, jewels and metals, tokens and gifts. You were not sure of all of their purposes, but did as was you were bid, at least you would follow this task as promised. There was but one more item you needed to pick up a gift, a lordly gift for your Lord.

“Illiad?” Asher interrupts your thoughts speaking in plain common much to Sallo’s chagrin, “Dothraki or contact?”

>Speak with Lanno, the Dothraki
>Speak with your contact, Erlera

>>43351969

Best go get the horse.

If what Iliad is planning is going to be dangerous, it won't be wise to haggle for a horse when he needs to gtfo.

>>43352049

Also, really love ASOIAF role-playing, and thank you for running a great quest so far. I haven't been able to find a IRL group to play with, so this really helps scratch that itch.

>>43351969
>Speak with Lanno, the Dothraki
Horses first. Illiad what the hell are you up to?

>>43351969
>>Speak with Lanno, the Dothraki
Yeah son we back.

>>43351969
>>Speak with Lanno, the Dothraki

Father, Awesome idea for a sidequest.

“Yanno,” you reply simply, common was your least favorite tongue, it didn’t roll off naturally like the many dialects born of Valryian, its words harsh mixtures of Andals and the First Men, a mess of unknown rules, you make a face trying to put together the rest of your thought, “Horses first, get favor of Yanno, continue as planned.”

“Tonight then?” Sallo says in Lysene, eyeing the tavern keeper, you had long overstayed your welcome, he had begun to grow uncomfortable of your presence, it was as good as time as ever.”

“Yes, tonight Sallo, then you may leave,” you respond taking a drinking afterwards. Part of the deal, Sallo would take a portion of the funds given and leave off after your little operation. Life in Westeros simply wasn’t to his liking, he wished for his home in Lys, you were unsure of how to break this news to Lord. You hoped a replacement wouldn’t be difficult to find and though his wrath had been tempered of late and it rarely extended to yourself it still made you uneasy all the same. Particularly since Asher had no idea, he was simply the muscle, the big stupid muscle.

“Good. I’ll be about the tavern, come get me when your ‘contact’ has our information, and I’ve a few drinks,” Sallo says and gets up leave you alone with Asher, the northman’s eyes lingering on him as he wanders off.

“What did he say?”

“Nothing Asher, we go find Yanno now, yes?”

“Aye.”

---

“Illiad! About time you son of a bitch, you’re in the city for a month and I just now hear about it?” Yanno yells in Dothraki, embracing you in strong arms, he hardly looked Dothraki anymore. Dressed in the typical garb of the myrish, finer clothing, he only seemed to don his leathers when on a particular job and his hair had no bells to speak of.

You hug him back and break off with a hand on his shoulder and respond in Dothraki, “I was delayed friend. Matters of grave importance.”

“I would imagine so, come come, I’ve the horses over here,” he leads yourself and Asher to a small stable, and shows you the horses of the Dothraki Sea, it was easy to see where they came from, lean and hard, built for endurance, not the pomp of the ones you had seen in Westeros, almost like Lord’s Goldsong, “A Dozen mares and four studs, as requested friend.”

You inspect each horse, in truth this was more Lord’s affair or Mason, perhaps even Victus, you knew how to ride, that was as far as your knowledge often went, but did so all the same. They seemed of fine quality, enough to impress the horsemaster in Steadhold you thought privately. Asher seemed more adept at looking the horses over, going so far as to test the temper of one of the males, getting a face full of horse for the effort.

“No simple task in under a month Illiad, you know the Dothraki are loathe to part with their horses, I need call in more than a few favors for this,” Yanno says, a smile playing on his face like Ser Victor’s would, “I imagine they’ll be worth the price.”

You roll your eyes, brushing one of the mares, a soft chestnut color, “Price then?”
He hands you a piece of paper with a number on it and you eye it a moment and give him a look of complete disbelief, “You are joking Yanno.”

“I do not joke Illiad. You know this.”

“I am not paying you that much.”

He frowns deeply, “Then the horses are not for sale.”

You stare at each other, hoping for the other to back down, Yanno had gained his position as being more of a merchant than a horselord, and he knew how to deal, though his mastery of words and practice of the affair was barely half of your own.

Roll 8d6 for Bargain.

Yeah for real.

>>43352082
Thank you, I'm lucky to be able to do both. When my job isn't killing me that is.

>>43352381
Thank you, though I can't take all the credit, an anon suggested it. Which ended up with me changing a lot of how this went down.

Rolled 1, 1, 6, 6, 5, 4, 5, 3 = 31 (8d6)

>>43352734
Why hasn't Illiad been making all of our business deals?

>>43352734
Dice+8D6

Rolled 4, 3, 4, 5, 3, 6, 6, 5 = 36 (8d6)

>>43352734

Rolled 5, 3, 2, 6, 2, 5, 4, 6 = 33 (8d6)

>>43352734

>>43352789
>>43352833
>>43352837

Illiad straight killing it.

Success, two degrees.

“Yanno, you and I both know you are going to sell those horses to me,” you state, watching Asher mill about the other horses checking for this and that, “And it will not be for that price.”

“Illiad, you know I need to make a profit.”

“Extortion is profit?”

“When you collect horses of the Dothraki Seas of dubious origins yes.”

You cock an eyebrow, and he falters a moment, Yanno often spoke far too many words before his mind caught up to them, simply needed to play with words a bit.

“Half.”

“Three-fourths.”

“Meet me in the middle and the northman doesn’t shatter your teeth in.”

“Drinks are on you then friend,” Yanno extends his hand.

“Deal,” you spit on your palm and shake with the Dothraki man laughing at the look of unhappiness on his face.

---

“Illiad, you mentioned a favor in your first message, finally calling in that debt yeah?” Yanno asks giving you a straight stare from across the table.

Your mind turns to the night’s affair again, Asher was escorting the horses to Thros’ ship and you had a moment alone with the Dothraki. You sigh, the thoughts discontented you, it was a dangerous plan and now you were involving an old friend in something you only hoped would work, “Of a sort Yanno, do you know the manse of Tychano Osten?”

He straightens up, halfway into his cup, eyes widen, “The Magister candidate? What of him?”

“He has someone of mine, I am going to collect them before I leave for Westeros tonight.”

He pauses and plays with his cup, “You’re actually going to do it?”

“Aye.”

“You know he has Unsullied guarding them?”

“I do not fear fat eunuchs.”

“And the other guards?”

“Paid off.”

“And would you even know where you’re going?”

“I’ve a map to collect after our meeting Yanno, do you wish to help or not?”

He sighs deeply and hunches over, eyes upon the fine wine you had purchased for the two of you to share, “What do you need me to do?”

“Wait by a sewer entrance. Bring five horses. Help us flee to the docks. Receive your payment.”

“Payment of what?”

“What do you desire?”

Yanno thinks again for a moment, his smile gone, face dark under his features, “I want to come with, to Westeros. I’ve enough of Myr.”

>Deal?
>No deal

Illiad tends to write more wordy, he's quicker on his words than Brynden is. And I'm keeping things a bit vague for now on purpose.

>>43353242
Why Yanno?

Also hey dad just woke up.

>>43353242
Deal, provided he does not speak of these events to come after this night.

>>43353242
>Deal

>>43353242
Fine with me, though my boss will have the final say in this. Also, why?

>>43353395
He just wants to come to westros, employment under our boss is another matter.

What are the chances we meet one of Brynden's Essosi bastards ?

>>43353242
>>Deal?

Bryden gets his horses and a free Dothraki, where else would Yanno go.

>>43353483
Minimal, I doubt we would even recognize them.

“Why Yanno?”

“I am a traveler at heart Illiad, I do not ride the Sea any longer, no khal would have me now. I have resided in Myr for ten years now, it is time for a change. Westeros seems as good as any other choice. And it would do good to see Brynden again.”

You nod along and finish your drink, “Deal, Yanno. Provided you do not speak a word of the night’s events thereafter.”

“Not a word Illiad.”

You leave Yanno off soon after, instructing him to meet you in a few hours, he needed to pack what little belongings he had and would be dropping them off with Thros in the meantime. You roll your neck, alone on the streets of Myr. The city of your youth, it was a memory mared with the pain of slavery, of loss of a brother. Big stupid Illieus. You still loved the inherent beauty of it though. Stone work so fine it made the old stones of Steadhold look like amateurs work, white spires towering into the sky reaching for the golden orb above. You move about the busy streets, intent upon picking up your gift for Lord. He did not typically wear such things, but the Maester and his uncle had insisted he looked more Lordly, no better item of wear than one of Myr for such purpose.

You enter a smithy, slipping in with a quick step, and greet the owner with a short nod and break into Myrish, “An order for Maren, a helm.”

He returns the nod and goes into the back and brings back a bag of velvet, producing a wonderful helm from it. Steel work unparalleled, a horse stood rampant from the top of the onyx greathelm, golden jewels as its eyes, a streak of purple from its mane and tail forming a trail behind it. The metal was such a deep shade of black it looked to have streaks of purple about it, waving in and out as the sun hit it. You smile broadly, and nod your approval, he offers to fit it and you adamantly refuse, this was for Lord’s use only, his gift, not yours. You would have yours soon.

---

The bag fits nicely under your arm, an odd shape but you kept it close, not wishing to lose it after the price you had paid, the smithy refused to budge from his price and you unhappily parted with the full price, at least it would make Lord happy, you hoped. For now your thoughts turned to Erlera, she waited outside the gardens of the Magister’s palace, looking every piece the beauty your mind remembered of her, a lady your own age, bought as a concubine turned into a lady of the house.

She wears a lilac dress, flowing loose about her, cut deep in the front, she eyes you from across the way and smiles in such a way to remind you of your younger days, her step a tempting sway, she picks your free hand without a word and wraps herself about you, leading you to a secluded area of the gardens.

“Illiad, you know how dangerous this is?” she asks in Myrish, whispered into your ear.

“And stupid. I know Erlera.”

She pushes you onto a bench and looks about before straddling you and catching your lips in a kiss, born of years of want between slaves, separated by purpose, “I want to help you Illiad, but you need to repay me. I will not give you the directions unless you do, I will not lose my head for such foolishness. Not without your promises.”

>Agree to ‘help her’?
>Do not

>>43353775
>>Agree to ‘help her’?

>>43353483
I actually figured out where Brynden has other children the other day. He has two, both girls, one in Pentos, and the other in Lys. It's unlikely he will ever, EVER meet them. Though one did get the lucky silver hair roll.

>>43353809
Chances of that are?

How far East has Blackshaft been? Slavers bay? Further?

>>43353809
Does this mean their's going to be a "long lost Targeryan princess"?

>>43353839
1 in 10. Purple eyes less rare, Brynden's green even less so.

>>43353858
Volantis. Brynden is not big on slavery, so Slaver's Bay turned him off pretty hard, he did travel a bit in the Dothraki Sea though, might have made it out to Qohor.

>>43353866
Too spoilery to tell.

>>43353775
Forgot about the vote
>Agree to 'help her'?

>>43353775
>Do not
It's a trap.

>>43353775
>Agree to ‘help her’?
Scared of a double cross but we need everything to go smoothly.

>>43353775
>Agree to ‘help her’?

On the proviso she doesn't want anything that Bryden wouldn't agree to.

>"looks about before straddling you"
We will get caught. It will be bad.

Oh wait. She wants to marry us, doesn't she? That makes sense, now.

>>43354199
She's Illion's woman. After we escaped she had no one else but him...and things happened.

Her teeth tug harmlessly at your lower lip, leaving you for want of more, you rarely partook in women, it was not of priority, the last you lie with was not even one but Sallo Rhod, but Erlera… She had been the object of your desire for much longer. Your lusts built in your loin and your eyes scan the immediate area, aware of being caught in the open like this but caring little.

“Promises of what Erlera?”

“Of safety Illiad. Tychano Osten will suspect me immediately. If you are…” her voice trips a bit, your mouth nibbling on her neck, hands hiking her skirts up, hers working on your clothing to part way, “If you are… Freeing slaves tonight. Bring me with. I… Fear for my life. I do not wish to be left alone here again. Please Illiad.”

Your groan into your throat as you slip inside her, her movements practiced, sliding back and forth on your lap, “The map Erlera?”

She pulls a scroll from her breast and push it against your own, her voice ragged as her rhythm continues, “The garden door will be unlocked, the guard away from his… From his post. As you instructed.”

“The others?”

“They will. Ohhh Illiad… Please… They will… Be about, you will not need to fight them if you are careful. The Unsullied will still be waiting, they can not be bought.”

You grunt, her pace increasing rapidly, hands digging into her hinds urging her forward, “Can you make it to the docks alone?”

“In the commotion you will cause, yes… Yes. Yes.” her voice quiets as she bites her lip and you press into her, her own climax coming in waves after your own buries itself into her, “Have you always had that ring in your cock Illiad?” she asks breathlessly into your ear.

“By order of Tychano Osten, to make me more desirable to his clients.”

She kisses at your neck, your thoughts blurred but still tuned to the night, why shouldn’t a man indulge before potential suicide? Unlikely that Lord would not do the same, though you wondered if he would approve of you bringing home so many. You wondered many things of his approval. His thoughts seemed to be mixed of late, attempting to fight the sellsword that he had become with the Lord they wished him to be. You worried for him, immensely. It was unlike him to be so quiet with his thoughts, slower of word. It was not the man you knew.

Erlera leaves off, giving you a quick kiss, and promising to meet you in the night, you wished her off well and made sure she understood the breadth of her intention. Se was determined if nothing else. Your desire remained in your heart, it had been seven years since you had last seen her, she had been had, you knew it was truth, but it still lingered in you. An odd feeling.

---

“Illiad, we don’t need to sneak in if half the guards are being paid off,” Asher says, fiddling with the strap that laced his axe to his side, “We could cut a bloody swathe through the side entrance, slaughter any in our way, maybe more escape.”

“Or maybe more are drawn to our presence Asher,” Sallo says, biting into an apple, looking over the map alongside yourself and Yanno, “We need a quick approach, the most fighting we’ll do is the Unsullied. Then we’re off through the… Cellar?”

“Cellar to sewers,” you respond in common, “Yanno meets us at end. We break to docks. Leave.”

Asher frowns, “Doesn’t sit right wit’ me Illiad. Brynden wouldn’t leave the rest to rot.”

“And Brynden would be planting arrows into the half of them while the Sons took them on all at once Asher, we are but three,” Sallo says annoyed by his insistence.

Will Illiad have his own Myrish swamp to play with?
>tfw when Cersei had no Myrish swamp in the TV serie

Your finger traces the red line about the floors of the crude map, Illion was in the basement, his workshop guarded by the Unsullied, Erlera did not know the layout of that, but you doubted it would be an issue. In truth it did sit poorly with you to leave the rest as well, but they would become a liability, and risking your life further in combat was not a pleasurable thought. You draw your hand through your hair and grimace, the three assembled men look to you, ready for your verdict.

>Stealth approach, get in, get out.
>Fuck subtlety, that bastard Tychano Osten deserved it

>>43354265
Nah, she was Tychano's live in whore essentially, only had eyes for Illiad. Illion doesn't exactly get out enough from his workshop to meet with the ladies.

>>43354430
>Illiad thinks of Brynden during sex

>>43354473
>Stealth approach, get in, get out

>>43354409
>the last you lie with was not even one but Sallo Rhod
Illiad's bi?

>>43354473
How many unsullied/opposition would we have to deal with?

>>43354473
>>Stealth approach, get in, get out

>>43354534
More or less, >>43354534 is right. Illiad is bi, has a bit of love for Brynden. The latter being aware, but they just share a close friendship instead. Same reason his thoughts were on Illiad a lot too.

>>43354576
HMH when?

Gotta get dat Hot Myrish Husbando

>>43354551
This, we need to know that.

>>43354551
Undetermined, no more than five. The rest guard Tychano.

>Subtle

You have a fukkin job to do. It's bad enough you lied about how dangerous the mission was without making it worse.

>>43354576
Bromance at it's finest.
Bet Dontos' buttmad about that as well

>>43354643
Hysterically Dontos' gaydar is fucking awful, he has absolutely no idea.

>>43354675
Oh god, are there any good stories of Dontos getting people wrong?

How many buttbuddies has Dontos had?

>>43354615
>>Fuck subtlety, that bastard Tychano Osten deserved it
5 Unsullied, pssh we got this.

>>43354675
the moment he realise that shit would be priceless then.

>>43354473
>Stealth approach, get in, get out.

Brynden's the Hero, we're a linguist

>>43354706
>5 Unsullied, pssh we got this.
I doubt it, Unsullied are among the best troup one can get in the ASOIAF book, though that's for a full unit of them and not such a small number.
A full unit is 20 right? Not the regular 100s?

>>43354842
They're not great in small numbers though, as shown by the Sons of the Harpy. Depending on the setting, we might be able to get the drop on them

>>43354842
Nah, Unsullied are textbook example of vanilla Elite Infantry. 100 to a unit


That said, go subtle. We're not a sellsword right now, we're a cunning linguist.

>>43354473
We could you know, stealth in and then bust out with the mass of slaves helping our numbers...

>>43354842
Unsullied are meant to be deployed as formation troops. On their own they lack allot of the staying power compared to a battle formation.

>>43355016
Possible but slaves would die, and i doubt we have the room to take them unless we rent more boats.


Still if we were to bust them out, more population for the realm, if they come with us.

Brynden might like that.

>>43354473
>Fuck subtlety, that bastard Tychano Osten deserved it

“We get in. Get out. Leave. Stick to plan,” you say attempting the force Lord would, you were third in command, but only in name, you translated, giving orders with mixed languages, not a true authority.

Asher frowns but nods in agreeance with Yanno and Sallo. A final round of drinks, whether or not they were for courage or to fight the growing voice in the back of your head to abandon such a stupid plan you were unsure but you drowned it all the same and bidding them off for a few moments of sleep before taking the most dangerous plunge of your life. It was unlike you, Lord was the reckless one, Mason’s voice tempering him, your own adding to calm his wrath. But you were not going to take needless risk in doing so, it was bad enough you had lied to Lord as it was.

Your dreams are quiet this time, your body wanted of rest, mind upon Erlera, would she become your wife? You had not intended to bring another with you, Yanno was more than promised as it was. A worrying thought, Lord was accepting of much, but how would he respond to such actions? You mind attempts to blank while you drift for a moment’s rest.

Your eyes draw open, your routine the same. Underclothes over brown skin, streaks of white that burnt still, chain, brigandine. Water dashed into your hair, pulled back you fiddle with your moustache. Deep breath. Ready.

---

>>43354473
if people are paid off why would we need to slaughter our way in?

Stealth or no, we would fight just the Unsullied and perhaps Tychano Osten.

So might as well make out with all his slaves and belongings like a pirate.

“Here, Asher,” you reach down over the wall of the garden straddling it with Sallo already on the other side, watching for guards. He grips your hand and you heave the much larger man up, his own strength pulling him the rest of the way over the wall, dropping alongside you with a thud, yourself a roll. Sallo’s arakh is already in his hand, waving back and forth in an idle motion, Asher draws his axe, holding it across his breast, and you draw your short sword and parrying dagger. A round of nods and you begin to move in on quiet step.

You work in unison. One man’s point. Another lookout. Another moves. Taking easy steps about garden, blocky in its design, many corners to hide behind. Easy. The door is in sight and Sallo goes to it first, yourself next, and Asher last. He glances to you and you acknowledge him with a nod, his hand goes to open the door. A click, open, as promised. You breathe a sigh of relief and continue on. The halls echoed too much, you keep to the carpets, lush in their make, of Myr. You were glad to have gotten a few of golden and purple for Steadhold.

You stand as lookout, out of the corner of your eye you catch a glimmer of bronze, your hand goes up and the other two stop. A pair of Unsullied, voices speaking in your native tongue, their footsteps echoed, along your path.

Roll 3d6 for Stealth.

Rolled 1, 6, 5 = 12 (3d6)

>>43355176

Rolled 1, 5, 3 = 9 (3d6)

>>43355176

>>43355176

Rolled 4, 2, 6 = 12 (3d6)

>>43355176

>>43355169
It would also hide who it was that did it for a while if more than just our brother is missing, and if Tychano Osten is dead then it could even be a rival magister candidate. Or Pirates.

>>43354697
>Spoiler
Only one, Dontos is deeply ashamed of his desires, thus his faith.

>>43355169
You're not sure of who is bought and who is not. It's an option to cause a gigantic commotion, mostly it's the Brynden in Illiad's head talking because that is exactly what he would do.

>>43355190
>>43355206
>>43355233

Killed that on a challenge of 9.

>>43355238
We could still bust almost everyone out, kill Tychano, and then make out like pirates from the inside, this way we simply tell the guards the master is dead and they better help us loot the place and run away with us.

>>43355258
Ohh thank the seven was worried as fuck.

>>43355258
>You're not sure of who is bought and who is not. It's an option to cause a gigantic commotion, mostly it's the Brynden in Illiad's head talking because that is exactly what he would do.
Well if we do this:
>>43355268
>We could still bust almost everyone out, kill Tychano, and then make out like pirates from the inside, this way we simply tell the guards the master is dead and they better help us loot the place and run away with us.


Then it takes care of that problem since our paid off will be less likely to fight us and others as well with the mass of bodies going out.

>>43355326
And we would get to use our Bargaining dice again, because we are more the spokesman so turning a potential fight into something else with words is probably our strongest weapon.

And it would get us the most benefits.

Free Slaves, Bro to Westeros, Tychano dead, and probably his holding looted and burned.

>>43355326
>>43355370

Vote went for Stealth. We're already in it, sorry guys.

>>43355258
>Only one, Dontos is deeply ashamed of his desires, thus his faith.
He's a bottom? Generaly hiding behind a religion to keep one's sexual urges in check means that if you manage to make them fall off the wagon there would be no brakes on the slut train.

>>43355370
Unsullied can't be bargained with though.

How many could he have here? They don't sell them in anything below 20, so we can expect that as a minimum. Seeing how hes rich af, I'm expecting up to 100. How well do you expect some freed slaves to do against trained soldiers?

>>43355475
Maybe read the posts?
We were told 5 max.

>>43355431
Yes, Stealth. We will stealthily kill Tychano, and then stealthily get everyone out. Stealth. And some stealthed Wealth.

>>43355507
Not guarding our brother anyway*
So if thats the guard for the main mansion it'll be less down below.

>>43355475
>>43355507

5 max to deal with guarding Illion's workshop. I mentioned more guarding Tychano.

I hadn't thought of how many in total, probably 20.

Success, one degree.

You motion to Sallo, who curses under his breath and he looks for a room to duck into, Asher following after into another, you break into the last, leaving the door slightly ajar to watch and listen. Their footsteps are heavy, the boots ringing with each incoming step, you focus on their voices, hoping to pick out what you can.

“...the master has been spending every moment with that Golden Company man.”

“Hmph, probably the one that ordered the crossbows.”

You bite your lower lip, worried, Illion would be more heavily guarded if the Golden Company was contracting Tychano. Why though? You knew it was a reason to bring Illion to Lord, he would likely see use in it, made the convincing part of the lie easier at least in your own mind. They continue in silence, unaware of your presence and turn the corner, you breathe again and creep back into the hallway first, the others after on your signal. You look into a painting that takes up the better part of the hallway, a battle scene, you remembered it. You had seen it the first time you had come to the manse, it was old, it bothered you, felt false. Your new master suggesting he had participated.

Sallo advances next, following your map about the first floor, you do not encounter any other guards. An odd thing, you had expected more, some of the household guards at least, you wondered if Yosero was still around, the captain that had killed Illieus. He would not be bought. He would try to kill you.

Asher is the first to the stairs, his axe still at the ready. Worry tinged his face and you assured him with a small smile, returned with a nod. You advance doing the stairs, marble, beauty and excess even into his cellars. You detested Tychano’s frivolous spending, it still sat heavy on your mind. At least you would rob him of some tonight.

Voices come to your ears again, in your tongue, “...he wishes to become a Magister.”

“He has not the money.”

“But the support, the silver haired man, his voice would matter.”

“Some sellsword, here to buy crossbows. Forget the thoughts.”

You creep about a corner, eyes near the middle, peaking out to your destination, three helms of bronze, you knew there need be more elsewhere. But these odds were in your favor now, they were unaware, you could see the fat of vice upon them, the only one they could still indulge in. They were older Unsullied, not the trained elites you ad been told of in your youth, second hand perhaps. You almost laughed to think of Tychano having to buy second hand guards, before your hand goes up to wave Sallo and Asher to you, their faces seeming to agree with your thoughts of advantage. They would not be bought or swung by word, you would need to fight them, quickly, silently, efficiently.

Sallo advances first, his footing the quietest, you after, body low to the ground, Asher stays behind a moment, ready to lunge on the one nearest. You dagger is gripped tightly, your knuckles turnt white from it, time for a moment of being the sellsword you had become.

>Roll 3d6+3 for (Stealth) Fighting.

Rolled 3, 5, 4 + 3 = 15 (3d6 + 3)

>>43355832

Rolled 2, 5, 5 + 3 = 15 (3d6 + 3)

>>43355832

Rolled 1, 6, 5 + 3 = 15 (3d6 + 3)

>>43355832

>>43355890
>>43355921
>>43355928

Well okay then, 15 it is.

>>43355890
>>43355921
>>43355928
The fuck?

File: Sheeeeeittt.jpg (38 KB, 500x406)

38 KB JPG

>>43355890
>>43355921
>>43355928
>Illiad's face

>>43355937
The gods have spoken

Rolled 3, 1, 2 + 3 = 9 (3d6 + 3)

>>43355832
>3d6 + 3

fuck'em up.

Also in Light of this new knowledge could we not try and kill Tychano? If he gets to be magister he might come after us.

>>43355969
I would actually like to see that.

Robert would love another fight and beating some rich pricks face in because he got cocky would be right up the kings alley.

>>43355991
I wonder if Brynden will be able to sway Robert to take over the Summer Isles for the exiled Summer prince
>Come on Robert, it'll be fun. Think of all the woman, all the game.

>>43356059
Then the hand would step in and go "No"
Because it would backrupt the seven kingdoms a good decade or so in advance of normal timeline.

>>43356126
>Bankrupt the realm
IIRC He was only going to take over a little bit of it anyway, the Red Flower Vale.

>>43356126
>But John, the booty!

>>43356225
Summer Islander girls is will not be worth the invasion cost Brynden

Success, two degrees.

Sallo reaches his man first, his sword and fast, his cut efficient, quick, deadly. The arakh he was so practiced with drawing the first blood of the night as it slide across his throat, his roll to the side easing the weight of his victim to the ground.

You are next, your matter of bringing death less practiced, Brynden had taught you, Mason as well. You were not the steadiest of shots, nor the best with a lance you preferred to stay away from it all, but in moments like this, it was necessary. Your sword buries into his neck in a quick motion, and for a moment a noise seems to escape a guttural noise until you stuff the dagger into his mouth in a quick follow up. Burying it to the hilt and finishing your slice, leading him forward in his fall.

You glance behind you and see Asher moving in with a quicker step, you could see the restraint on his face, not to yell not to give notice of his presence, one footstep falls too heavily and the Unsullied notices, turning and his eyes widening. You curse, and his voice calls out, briefly, before the northman’s axe buries itself in his skull. Damnable Asher, big stupid muscle.

Sallo gives you a look of knowing, more would be here soon if they heard. He waves you to the door, Illion would be beyond, you needed to retrieve him and flee. Immediately. You push into it, Sallo and Asher standing guard, the former glaring daggers at the latter.

The door opens with ease, you slip into the workshop, cramped, no more than 10 could work in here at any given time. You glance about, door, door where was the door. There to the left, quarters. You dash forward, unaware of you surroundings, tinkers tools about, half finished works, a few completed. You wished to call out but held your tongue.

The first few rooms were empty, the third a sleeping boy, the fourth is locked but the fifth, there. You step around the corner and see a man with longer hair tied back, garbed simply, across his chin was a scar, Illion’s scar. He glances at you and his eyes widen, “Who are you?”

You stand dumbfounded, how could he not remember? “Illion, it’s me. Illiad. Your brother.”

He stands quiet, his hands idle, learned to not fiddle, not wring, they were his purpose, “My brothers are dead. I saw there bodies five years ago. You are not Illiad.”

You draw in closer to him, disarming yourself, he back away into a corner, “Illion, look at me. Look into my eyes, they are the same as yours, as mothers. They lied to you. I live, I’ve lived, and we’re going to free you from this place. Please Illion, I would not lie to you.”

He looks frightened, the child that had once followed you with vigor, no older than Lord now, a man hardly grown, “Mother… What was her name?”

“Illion we do not have-”

“Tell me her name or I will call for the guards.”

You stand, quiet, her name sat upon your tongue, so long had it been spoken it seemed foreign, “Wisteria, Wisteria Maren.”

A tear is at his eye, “Illiad… I-I… They told me you were dead, with Illieus. Strung up by your entrails… I saw your body, the crows picking at your eyes.”

You draw in the rest of the way and pull your brother in close, hugging him with all the might of brothers reunited, you held back your own tears. No time. You needed to flee. “Illion, please, we need to leave. Now. My Lord has sent friends we will flee tonight. Come please.”

He looks uncertain, “Illiad… I can’t. I can’t leave them, my apprentices, they would pay for it. They are young, two boys, please we need to bring them.”

>Agree to bring Illion’s apprentices
>There is no time, we need to go now

>>43356380

>Agree to bring Illion’s apprentices
"Quickly or not at all. Move, Now"

>>43356380
>Agree to bring Illion’s apprentices

>>43356333
John, the summer islands will provide plenty of opportunity to get lai-economic advancement. Think of all the pus-spices. And gemstones!

And sixteen nippled statues!

>>43356380
>>Agree to bring Illion’s apprentices
As long as they are close. Now quickly we must away.

File: That's fucking kawaii.png (454 KB, 953x597)

454 KB PNG

>>43356380
>Brynden's face when Illiad tell him "they followed me home, can I keep them?"

>>43356428
You know, after reading up about the Summer Islands, it seems like they'd be really easy to take over. The only concern is their archers, which could probably be defeated by heavy cavalry or mounted archers.

>>43356380
>>Agree to bring Illion’s apprentices
More men to make weapons for us? What's not to like!

>>43356579
>Erlera and Illad wants to convince Brynden to let her stay
>They end up having a threesome

At the rate Illiad is stealing shits from the guy, it won't be long untill the Bloody Magpie send a Thunderhawk to recruit him into their chapter.

>>43356700

It can be a way for us to learn IC about his insane Bargain skill

>"When I went to buy my brothers freedom I haggled so hard I got all these others as well! Can we keep them, pleeease Brynden?"

>>43356745
I feel he would probably come clean once it was over.

>>43356791
One things for sure though, we're never letting him leave our side again after he comes back.

He's way too good a talkyman to risk on dumb suicide missions.

You glance about and gesture a slight frustration, “Yes fine Illion. Now, be quick.”

Your brother dashes off, to the third room shaking the boy awake, and then back leaving him with you, still groggy, he looks to you in awe, sleep still in his eyes. He looked at you like maidens Lord had rescued before you were a hero in his eyes. a glimmer of hope away from a life of slavery. It was an odd feeling.

Illion returns to your side, and nods to you, “Breon, Troa, do as this man says, do not speak a word. Is this understood?”

“Yes master,” they respond in unison.

You take the lead, quickly moving about the workshop, Illion stops a moment to collect a bag and sling it about his shoulder, his tools no doubt, you allowed him the notion. They would be needed. You push into the door, eyes casting about Sallo is standing blood on his sword again. You breath deep and push the rest of the way.

Asher is on his knees. Before Sallo, the end of his cut giving the fresh blood you saw. He casts a glance to you in the throes of death, a pleading look of, ‘run you damn fool.’ Sallo turns his gaze to you and nods off to your side, a moment too late for you to react, you wished to curse him, he had betrayed you, to dig your dagger deep into his eye. Illion’s voice calls out from behind you right before the butt of a spear catches you square in the temple. Your world goes black.

---

The silver haired boy regards you with a quiet regard, there is a look of fury in his eyes. Emerald green in the midday sun, a gorgeous color, but one that looked fierce filled with untempered wrath.

“Ser Mason, give me your skin.”

“And waste it on this wretch? He will die by the end of the day, leave him.”

“Mason. Your skin of water. Now.”

The Knight sighs, and relents to the young man’s order, pulling a skin of water from his side and handing it to him, he approaches you, and holds it close, your lips wanted of its bounty. Cracked and broken. He eased it to your lips, careful not to give too much, yet you still cough and sputter at the first gulp. The rest comes easier, no sweeter a taste had ever passed your lips before.

“What is your name?”

“Illiad, Lord. My name… Is Illiad.”

“Your crime?”

“I… Wished to be free. Brother died for mistake.”

The silver haired man casts his eyes behind him suddenly seeing Illieus for who he actually was. His eyes filled with rage, the sun in the emerald burning like fire.

“Your master.”

“Lord?”

“Who is your master?”

You hesitate, why did he care, you were to die here, leave Illion alone in this world, why, why why.

“Why?”

“Answer.”

“...Tychano. Osten.”

“Ser Mason, did you catch that? Can you find that man?”

“With a map maybe, does your bound friend have one to give?”

You glance between the two, a chance, something, another chance. You needed to give them something.

“I can… Direct. Write down?”

“See Mason, look your fancy writing skills will be of use. Find me this Tychano Osten. I feel want of buying a man.”

---

You open your eyes, the room a dark blur. You attempt to move your hands, but they strain, strain against metal clamps, digging into your skin. No. No no no. You were not a slave, not to be bound. You begin to panic, it was not a dream, you were a free man, no this was a terrible dream.

“He’s awake Tychano,” Sallo’s voice calls, that bastard, his betrayal… Asher dead. Your brother’s freedom a moment short lived.

“Good. Heat the iron. Ambrose, care to see the man who thought to steal from Magister Tychano Osten?” the familiar voice, laced with cruelty, your former master, he had caught you again.
“Hardly. I only care for his word. He works for the Malroys yes?”

“Yes Ambrose, so Sallo Rhod here tells me. Must not be the smartest of rulers, to send such a small force against myself. A foolish boy just as they said.”

“A foolish boy upon my-”

“Not now Ambrose, later,” a cold hand grips your chin, pulling your attention into the eyes of your former master, “Illiad, so good to see you again.”

You spit in his face, Lord would have been proud, it was his reaction.

“Sallo. The iron,” he states simply in response, wiping the spittle from his face with a handkerchief. The bright orange disturbs the darkness about you otherwise, and the light it gives reflects in the man behind Tychano. Silver haired. He… Looked almost like Lord, your eyes widen to it, glancing between both the iron and this man that betrayed all you knew.

“So Illiad. We have some questions for you,” the iron draws close to your naked flesh and you sudden realize you are stripped of everything.

“Who sent you?”

>Roll 4d6 for Will.
The first d6 will be for Illiad to conquer his fear of being bound. If it fails, then the last d6 will not count.

>>43357056
I don't know who to blame.
Robert Baratheon, King of the Andals and the First Men and the Rhoynar, or someone who Tychano won't fuck with

Rolled 2, 6, 3, 4 = 15 (4d6)

>>43357056
Now Illiad must be braver still.

Rolled 6, 2, 4, 3 = 15 (4d6)

>>43357056

Rolled 1, 1, 3, 2 = 7 (4d6)

>>43357082
Roll didn't work

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

>>43357056
What the fuck Sallo!?

>>43357084
>>43357098
>>43357099

Second roll got the 6 necessary to conquer the fear. First roll gave the success. You go Illiad.

Well this is fucked.
I hope Illiad had a contingency plan.

Success, one degree.
Fear of being bound, conquered.

No. You weren’t a slave. You would not be bound. Not again. Tychano could pretend to be your master all he liked, you were free. Free. There was no fear to be felt, it was a moment. And you would escape and be free again, even in death.

The iron presses against your skin, you clench your teeth, it felt like ice, burning so hot it felt cold. Nothing you hadn’t experienced before. Torture of the smallest degree. He would need to do better. The iron is removed, pulling slightly as it did, the smell of burnt flesh rising to your nose from your chest.

“Go fuck yourself,” you respond. Again Lord’s response.

The silver haired men tsks, “It is not like it matters Tychano, Sallo here has told us everything we need to know.”

“Magister Tychano. And I wish to know it from this slave’s mouth Ambrose. He will tell me the truth of it.”

“Lord Brynden Malroy. Second born child of Lord Vamos Malroy and Lady Esemella Hayford. A surprising last son of the House.”

“Would you look at that slave, Ambrose answered for you, thank the good man.”

You muster as much spit as you can and shoot it in his direction, landing short of the silver haired man known as Ambrose.

“Must we really keep up with this?”

“Yes. Sallo. The iron.”

It draws close again, you keep your eyes trained on Tychano, defiant. You would not give in.

“Tell me, slave. Lord Brynden Malroy. Is he wealthy? Does he still possess his family’s lands?”

>Roll 4d6 for Will.
Bonus 1D for the rest of the scene for conquering your fear.

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

>>43357344

Rolled 1, 5, 3, 6 = 15 (4d6)

>>43357344

Rolled 6, 5, 2, 4 = 17 (4d6)

>>43357344

Rolled 1, 2, 6, 2 = 11 (4d6)

>>43357344
>>43357387
whomp whomp

Rolled 2, 2, 4, 6 = 14 (4d6)

>>43357344
The interrogated must fight not against the torturer, but against his own pain.

>>43357387
Shame.
>>43357400
Thank you.

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

>>43357344

Rolled 2, 5, 5, 5 = 17 (4d6)

>>43357344
It might have been harder to catch us if we made a ruckus and stormed the place...

>>43357430
Probably. But this was a little doom'd from the start. He'de have had better chance trying to buy his brother.

Success, two degrees.

“Wealthier than you will ever be you pissant prince,” you spit in him, the iron burning into your flesh again.

“You are too damn clever for your own good Illiad. I never should have let you live.”

He removes the iron and gives it to Sallo again, his eyes dark in the low light, he did not even look at you. The bloody bastard.

“Why Sallo?” you ask, in between gasps for air.

He stops, his eyes upon the fire, “Coin.”
“You sold us out for coin!? Lord gave you everything you needed! A home! Food! You were considered a person of worth!”

“I am not Brynden’s pet like you Illiad,” he spits back, “I slept in barracks, took meal with servants! I was a pleasure slave of worth in Lys! I am not some sellsword to be thrown forgotten, Tychano and Ambrose… They would not forget me. They would not lead that house to ruin like Brynden is. Barely coin to purchase proper food for us.”

You stare at him in disbelief. Brynden was the rightful Lord of the House. Tychano calls your attention back to him.

“Even now, your ‘Lord’ brings his House to ruin. He is no Lord of Westeros, just some sellsword, a sellsword that needs disposed by the true line.”

The pain upon your chest had sent your mind reeling you did not understand of what he spoke, it felt of riddles. True line?

“Sallo give me the iron. Slave. Is this Lcord Brynden married, with heirs?”

Your thoughts turn to Victus, of the Maester insistence upon marrying Lord, you did not care for the thought. Your eyes caught on him again, the heat upon your sternum be damned.

Roll 4d6 for Will.

Rolled 4, 4, 3, 6 = 17 (4d6)

>>43357673

Rolled 6, 5, 4, 1 = 16 (4d6)

>>43357673

Rolled 6, 6, 2, 4 = 18 (4d6)

>>43357673
well shit

>He stops, his eyes upon the fire, “Coin.”
Sucks to be him not knowing Brynden made dem gains.
>Sucks to be him when Illiad will break free...

If this fuck swans into the seven kingdoms, i feel it is our duty to shoot his bollocks off.

This is legitimately the most shit of all turns of events. We lose a good man, all of that coin, the other wasted points, and information.

>>43357835
I want to make him fight a warhorse barehanded.

Horse will, of course, be in full barding.

>>43357878
>not having the horse preform sodomy on him instead

Do you even punishment by horse anon ?

>>43357907
I feel like we instantly jump to sodomy as a method of asserting our dominance and punishing those who cross us.

I like it.


What would Dontos say?

>>43357907
>Sodomized to death.
>implying this asshole wouldn't die happy.

>>43357878
>>43357907

Or we just inflict the thrice death upon him.

>>43357937
I need to pray harder.

>>43357937
Most likely complain then go pray

>>43357941
Care to explain what that is?

>>43357939
Anal impalement then. I'm pretty sure the bible has instructions on the best methods. Give me a moment

>>43357964
You're already much to hard when you pray. The Mother blushes.

>>43357987
>Gonna need both hands to pray on this one.

>>43357980
Basically inflicting three seperate deaths upon a person at the same time.

E.g. Bash a head in with a rock (fatally but not enough to kill them instantly), cut their throat, then shove them into water to drown.

Its from warhammer fantesy (and there it was used to curse the soul to never know were to head after death).

I suggest it because its a nasty way to go.

>>43358026
Way too edgy.

Let's stick to assfucking him to death.

>>43358068
Would rather not take the reputation hit from trainning a horse to sodomize a man to death.

>>43358068
See
>>43357939

>>43358026
Interesting.

How about we add Poena cullei to that? I'd leave out the smashing the head, it would dull the feelings of fear and pain.

We could also do a bronze bull thing, but with a horse. Could be fun to have a massive horse statue that shoots steam from its nostrils.

>>43358068
>>43358026
I really do not see Brynden all that ok with torture. He seconded that when he needed to get information.

I would think that if he has no need for information or cooperation he will just kill or send people to the wall. Simple and clean, no multiple points of failure or constant effort like torture. No patience or lust for it.

>>43358123
I can see him inflicting a particularly painful death for someone he hates to high heaven, but even then it would have to be the biggest single asshole he knew to do it, otherwise i agree with your assesment. Thrice death is still a nasty way to kill someone though.

Success, one degree.

“Go. Fuck. Your. Self,” you respond again. You would not break. Even if they knew all already, you refused to abide.

The iron pulls from your chest in a quick motion and Tychano throws it to the ground, “Useless! I never should have bought you! Never worth the coin for you stupid tongue.”

Ambrose comes closer into view and examines you, his eyes were a deep blue, his features not as sharp as Lord’s were. His chin missing the point, his facial hair a poor dust. He looked like he belonged to Lord’s family, but no more than his Uncle did. He speaks, “Sallo. Get the tongs.”

“Tongs?”

“Yes Tychano, you tire of his tongue? Then take it out.”

Your eyes widen for this, the scraping of metal and rummaging assaults your ears. No, not your words, they were the only thing you had, they were how you danced and sung. How you directed from the battlefield to the tavern. You would rather give yourself to slavery again than lose your words. Your hands begin to struggle again, straining against the metal clamps hoping for give.

“See Tychano, all you need do is threaten with a seriousness,” Ambrose pulls his knife from the place on the chest it resides, running it’s blunt end against your cheek, “Sallo, hold him still.”

Sallo stands behind you, gripping your head, your legs go to thrash but are held to the floor in chains as well, Tychano reaches for your tongue and Ambrose is forced to pry your mouth open before your tongue is pulled out before him. His knife falls upon it and he smiles, it is filled with cruelty, hate, and vengeance.

You close your eyes, taste a trickle of blood, it tastes like metal and defeat. And then you hear a familiar sound, the heavy thump of a crossbow firing. Your eyes bolt open your head suddenly free of Sallo’s grip, his voice screaming in your ear behind you. There’s a terrible pain in your thigh, like something pierced it, but you see an opportunity and crack your skull into Tychano’s the tongs falling and your tongue safely back where it belongs. The entire room is suddenly in an uproar, the thump of a crossbow sending errant bolts into the room all about you, Sallo’s voice turning to that of a death screech. Tychano and Ambrose both screaming for the guards. Your eyes catch on a scar, Illion’s scar, his chin your face as he pulls at the clamps letting them free with ease and catching you.

“Brother. Brother! Illiad! Come we have to go!”

“What about… Your apprentices?”

“They are following, the servants rebelled, they remembered your name, what you did. Please Illiad, lean on me. We need to go!”

You half walk and are half pulled to the entrance of the cellar, the boys from earlier to your left and right, one with a crossbow, one of Illion’s, and the other holding Asher’s axe. Your things are slung into Illion’s bag and you find yourself moving as quickly as possible through the cellar into the sewer entrance the Erlera had given. Your thoughts turned to her, blurry as they were, is she safe? Sallo knew about her. SO many questions, not enough answers.

You merge a moment later, in the distance you can hear the call to arms, fires starting in the Osten Manse. You attempt to direct, and see Yanno in the distance, one of his horses dead and him nursing a wound on his arm, though two men dead beside him.

“By the… Illiad! Quick, help me get him on his horse, quickly quickly!” his voice calls out, you are waking more now, things coming into view, suddenly more aware of your nudity.

Illion climbs behind you, “I cannot ride a horse Illiad, you need to lead, can you still lead?”

“Yes,” you respond attempt to snap your vision into place with shakes of your head. You grip the reins and dig into your horse, the apprentices on their own behind and Yanno ahead.

Yanno calls back, “Illiad! We need to either out pace them or lose them in the streets! Your call!”

>Out pace those chasing you
>Lose them in the streets of Myr

Illiad is one of my favorite characters, I wouldn't kill him that easily. Yet.

>>43358273
fucking close

>>43358273
>Out pace those chasing you
I'd rather not play cat and mouse in unfamiliar territory.

Rolled 2 (1d2)

>>43358290
Dice, make the choice for me

>>43358290
>>Out pace those chasing you
We are using Dothraki horses. Fucking blow them out

Christ you guys really hate Tychano and Ambrose. I didn't even get caught up on the conversation until I posted.

Just to confirm, yeah Sallo died. The prick.

>>43358290
>Out pace those chasing you
Horses take a while to get ready to ride, and we can easily outrun people on foot

Captcha, that is playdoh, not food

>>43358290

>Out pace those chasing you

We only need to get to the docks. Hopefully the woman got there and to our ship beforehand.

>>43358369
I actually feel bad for that. Sallo deserved to die in more pain and fear than what happened.

>>43358411
We'll get the fire to bring him back so we can kill him again.

>>43358290
>>Out pace those chasing you
Just to be sure we ARE telling Brynden what happened yeah?

>>43358438
No.

>>43358454
So we're not going to tell him Sallo betrayed us for want of more, a fucking fat bastard was trying to get information about him for some unknown gain?

>>43358483
No.

>>43358454
I think Bryden would love the story, its also a good opertunity to talk to the company men incase of another disatified. He also kind of needs to know about potential political fiddlers who might back the redwoods.

If we get away I doubt this will be the end of it.

>>43358438
>>43358483
Well we could always blame it all on sallo.

>>43358515
More lies will be a very very bad idea. Better bryden gets angry at the initial lies first, hell come round. Lying to his face again when we get back would be immensly dumb.

>>43358511
>>43358483
>>43358438
>Literally all of that gold.
>Ever telling him anything outside of Sallo sexing a man's wife and dying as Myrish laws demanded.

>>43358507
Okay why?

>>43358483
We should tell him. This could be happening at home again with these men we thought we could trust with our lives.

I wonder if other lords will be frightened when they walk into Brynden's hive of Essosi scum, slaves, whores and mercenries. Wonder if these servants that rose up will be boarding with Illiad

>>43358438
Definitely. The whole "true line" part especially

Come on guys, it's Father giving us a IC reason to think Redward's wife is our sister

No good would come from telling Brynden.

>>43358549
>>43358545
Because if anyone finds out what happened here Bryndens judgement is questioned.

>>43358568
But lots of harm could be avoided. Sometimes its better to face the music.

He's still an NPC in the long run. Let the Father decide. This is all just a sidestory to give us a nice look into whats going on.

Instead of going for Brynden, how about going 1st for Mason, the actual captain. Then once Mason did what needed to be done we go with him and explain the shit to Brynden. Mason having fixed the shit already would prevent Brynden to go into a murderous rage(less so at least)

>>43358584
Then just tell Bryden in private.

Everyone else in our council told us not to let Ill-style do this. It makes Brynden look incompetent.

>>43358568
We are Brynden, we know so if Brynden doesn't get told it'll end up being a meta gaming fuckfest- besides Illiad's motivation is loyalty course he's gonna tell his Lord. Brynden needs to know.

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2 KB JPG

>>43358635
>implying he didn't lie in the first place

Your focus is returning, in part due to the adrenaline now course through your body and equal part to the sheer amount of pain all over your body, you need to keep focus from not fainting. You were riding the Dothraki horses, far better than anything you could find in Myr, their pride be damned.

“We’ll outpace them Yanno!” you call back in Dothraki, Illion gripping into you unsure of your words, “Lead the way, we only need to get to the docks!”

The Dothraki waves and leans into his horse, pressing hard, you do the same, but one of the apprentices lags behind. You glance back at a poor moment, he is struggling with the crossbow still in his arms. You believe that one was Troa. Tychano’s men are gaining on him, a bolt flies, and it catches him in the throat. His horse rears off to the side with no master and the boy slumps to the ground with a disgusting thud, you close your eyes, wishing to pray but not knowing to whom.

Illion seems to preoccupied holding onto you for dear life to notice his apprentices death and you take that moment to scream to the other to come closer and drop Asher’s bloody axe. It wasn’t right to leave him there, his axe strewn into the street like trash. But better to escape with your life. The clang of the axe resounds in your ear and you hope Asher made good with his Old Gods before his death.

You press again, your horse going at its full speed down the white streets of Myr. A city of beauty, and of tainted memories.

Roll 4d6 for Ride.

Rolled 4, 3, 1, 1 = 9 (4d6)

>>43358666
Nice trips

Rolled 4, 4, 6, 1 = 15 (4d6)

>>43358666
SATTTAAAAAANNNN

Rolled 4, 4, 3, 3 = 14 (4d6)

>>43358666

Rolled 4, 1, 2, 3 = 10 (4d6)

>>43358666
Let those trip sixes be our roll

>>43358483
I say we should tell him. It would be something he should know and the worst that could happen is he orders us to work with some actors to make it a play.

Rolled 2, 4, 1, 1 = 8 (4d6)

>>43358666

Rolled 1, 2, 1, 4 = 8 (4d6)

>>43358666

Rolled 6, 4, 6, 1 = 17 (4d6)

>>43358666
For Asher ;_;

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

>>43358666

>>43358635
Illiad had some real internal conflicts about this decision. Motivation being loyalty and his Virtue being Honesty. When I first rolled for it was Illiad's Deception against Brynden, he barely scrapped by which is why you as a character never noticed.

Illiad absolutely hates that he lied to Brynden, it's eating at him like no other. And when he returns with Sallo and Asher, Brynden is going to immediately know something happened, and he'll get the truth pretty quick. Illiad is not going to be able to stand up to that. We're lucky he hasn't broken down yet.

>>43358703
He should, I'm saying that he's in too deep and spent a lot of money in the process. You know, that thing we're in debt out of outclassed because of a lack of?

Will Brynden even care? It'll be a good story, we can all sit around and laugh about how stupid Tychano lost his entire household.

>>43358742
IIRC isn't this all a fancy roleplaying way of getting a Master Artisan we paid standard rate for? We hardly got shortchanged

>>43358768
Do you know how much this cost?

Our sister is behind it all. Calling it now

>>43358799
Pretty much.
But it did show us that Illiad could be a merchant to be reckoned with if we need him to. Or a good senshal/steward if we stick him with a number crunching assistant.

>>43358799
Is one of his apprentices still alive? Of so, we are actually getting a pretty good deal, seeing how the kid is gonna be a master artisan if he keeps working under Illion

>>43358728
When we're Brynden again after Illiad's tells him we should give him a big manly hug. Then have it get kinda awkward when Illiad holds Brynden just a little too close...

Guys, what if, the 'true line' thing was a reference to the Malroy that fought for Blackfyre in the First Rebellion? What if they survived?

>>43358893
It would explain Ambrose looking like a bad copy of Brynden

>>43358893
Pretty sure its a reference to our sister. If not then "True line" is a load of crock because the only ones infront of bryden for the house was his farther and brother, and their both definatly dead.

Unless its a long lost splinter house, in which case if they show up their going to end up facing off against the fact were the hands man now, which is protection from the king indirectly. Good fucking luck.

>>43358944
To heap more evidence onto this, the guy asked if Brynden had control of his lands.

Seems like Redward has some friends in Myr

Success, one degree.

Your horses race down the streets, quickly darting about the night’s street, Yanno has taken a steady lead, you lagging behind to keep Breon alive. But you seem to be outpacing those chasing you, the city however is coming alive. You begin to see the city’s watch appearing, confused as to the horses racing down the street, merchants and people of the city herself watching with curious eyes. The heavy hoof beats are the only thing you hear in between the thumping of your heart.

You begin to see the waterfront ahead of you, Thros’ ship in the distance. Figures are moving about… No, fighting. Sallo told them of your escape plans, Thros’ crew is engaging with a number of men, his ship halfway in port still. The Captain himself is slashing down a sellsword with his own cutlass, cursing a damn storm. So loud you can at least hear the mumbles of it.

You also hear the whisk of crossbow bolts flying past your head, your attackers making a last ditch effort to kill you before you arrive at the docks. You lean down as far as you are able, instructing Breon to do the same, Yanno is riding far too high, but is still left unscathed. He produces his bow and notches an arrow, aiming towards the docks. He had taught you how to do that once, you were never half as good as Lord or Solhas but you could at least aim in general direction. You cursed you lack of equipment, and watching Yanno fire a strict shot into one of the men attempting to burn you get away ship and another across from him with one shot.

>>43358993
But our sister being behind it is only slightly less cliched than "the mentor is evil" or "the one you escorted were the bad guy all along"

Thros’ men had begun to throw any would be attackers to the water now, launching themselves back onto the ship, the Captain had finally taken notice of you and was screaming at the top of his lungs for you to hurry. You watched the plank fall and your heart sinks, you’ll need to jump it. Yanno has taken notice as well and casts a glance back to yourself, receiving a nod, while Breon looks horrified.

You pummel onto the dock proper, screams of bloody murder in your ear, the whisks of bolts still flying, Yanno slices away with his arakh at any men that still linger in your way, and he makes the first jump, his horse crashing onto the deck with a scream that would spell death, the man himself rolling free. You urge Breon forward, promising him the horse would make the jump. He launches ahead of you, the horses knees buckling as they skid and he is thrown off with his own crash.

Illion is gripping you so tightly it is hard to breath but you push your horse on, she was nothing like your own Whisper, you did not feel bad for digging for your life. You reach the end of the dock and you pull, hoping to make it.

Roll 5d6 for (Horse) Athletics.

Tychano was makin' crossbow for the Golden Company, this could be used to defuse kinda the situation.
The GC would need quite the number of crossbows, now that they've lost one master craftman in Illion they'll be supplied a bit less, they must have other crafters for sure but the fact that they've lost one means that they'll come a bit slower now. What Illiad/Mason/Brynden should do is send a message to the 2nd Sons and tell 'em that the GC will be short on crossbows for a while and have 'em press the advantage.

The GC being forced into a weaker position would then force Tychano to focus on clearing the shit happening in Myr and not set his sight on Steadhold for a short while.

Sure making enemies of the GC is a problem. But hey, at least it's not like they can sail to Westeros at the present.

>>43358893
Not a bad guess.

>>43358944
>>43358993
Also, not bad.

>>43359052
Yeah nothing to do with your sister actually, well by her hand at least.

Rolled 6, 3, 3, 5, 2 = 19 (5d6)

>>43359056

>>43359052
It's not our sister behind it, she's just a captive in redward's castle. Robert married her to redward was a reward for service, and if we hadn't shown up, he'd have gotten all of the lands in place of us.

Rolled 3, 5, 5, 4, 4 = 21 (5d6)

>>43359056
>

Rolled 1, 2, 3, 4, 3 = 13 (5d6)

>>43359056
horse pls

Rolled 5, 6, 4, 3, 2 = 20 (5d6)

>>43359056
here we go!

>>43359107
Nice

If our myrish swamp is still alive we better be shagging all the way back to Westeros

>>43359179
>Swamp

Well thats one thing to call a whore.

If the woman had any sense she would have been aboard well before this all kicked off.

>>43359107
Look at that horse.

>>43359071
The GC is, like, 10,000 men and the Seconds Sons are a few hundred.

>>43359071
Or ya know, we could set up production and give GC a discount for not wrecking our shit if they trade with us instead.

I frankly doubt they give a shit.

>>43359568
>Not wrecking our shit
King's Peace, fam

>>43359504
Once Steadhold is repaired, it's almost impossible to take. Father likened it to Harrenhall, though that's more on the fact that it started too big for us. With some archers on its walls, we should be able to hold off thousands of men.

>>43359586
The GC won't be attacking Steadhold, they're not stupid. Soon as they set foot on Westeros they'd be fucking with Bobby B.

Success, two degrees.

You feel the absence of ground below you for a moment, the world having slowed to a crawl in your field of vision. Thros’ men are firing back with everything they have, a final bolt flies by your head and lodges itself into the mast before you. You give a final glance behind and see Yosero mad with rage leading the charge after you. The world comes back into focus when your horse screams in pain and you along with Illion are thrown from the saddle, yourself rolling across the deck into a naked lump before finally passing out from the pain. You final vision is Yanno standing over you and Illion attempting to crawl towards your outstretched hand.

---

“He’s not for sale. Tell them slave, you are not for sale.”

“Master Tychano regrets to inform I am not for sale, Lord.”

The young silver haired man fixes your master with a steady gaze and draws in closer to him, his fingering poking onto his chest.

“Illiad. Tell him, I am going to have you, one way or a-fucking-nother. It just depends on how many teeth he wants by the end of it.”

You repeat the message sans threats and your master merely laughs, flicking the silver haired Lord’s hand away before leaving without a final word. You can see him seething, his eyes turnt to flame so quickly it was frightening, yet beautiful.

“Brynden. Give it up. We can’t save every poor wretch in Essos.”

The young Lord deflates under the Knight’s hand and he casts you a look of dismay, and lips the words, “I’m sorry.”

Your heart aches, feeling the crushing weight of a lost hope upon it and your head hangs as they leave off. The day turns to night and you cannot sleep, not even for want of respite from the terrible pain upon your back. In your delusional state you think you hear the Lord’s voice and you look about the dark stockyard, seeing nothing more than Illieus, his body finally fallen to the ground below for the dogs to gnaw on.

Then you hear it again, on soft footstep, the voice of the Knight again, surely madness had taken you. You attempt to look about as much as you can, craning your stiff neck all about before a hand rests upon it stilling you, it caresses your hair and gives a soft pat.

“Not for sale my bloody Valyrian arse, some fucking pissant prince thinks he’s going to… Horse fucking son of a whore…” his voice is a whisper, you can feel the heat of his eyes upon the back of his head and hear a faint click to your left, and you hand slips, immediately caught over the shoulder of the silver haired Lord. Another click and the Knight catches your right in total silence. The pull you up fully, with ease, and you remain more quiet than you had ever in your life.

“Illiad.”

“Yes Lord?”

“We need directions for the fastest route out of Myr, probably ten minutes ago, care to aid?”

“Yes Lord, I would be happy to serve.”

---

You awake with a start, the pain in your head keeps you abed, in addition to the pain in your thigh and upon your chest. Illion is to your left, changing a damp cloth out and notices your eyes open. He has gingerly as possible gives you a hug, whispering prayers to a god you did not know Ra Lore or something another.

“Brother I have been praying for your recovery for the past four days, Erlera said you needed the rest… But…” he breaks into a slur of Myrish and you merely pat his head bringing it close to your own, assuring him with quiet word on a swollen tongue.

He tells you of the rest of the escape. Breon suffered a sprained ankle, Yanno took a bolt to the shoulder but is fine, a few of the crewsmen died and all three horses were slaughtered, victims of broken knees and legs. Captain Thros was wroth with being unaware of your intentions, but Yanno and Erlera calmed him. The latter had made her escape earlier in the night and was hiding in the bowels of the ship when they had attacked. Besides Breon, no others escaped alongside you. In your heart you hoped them okay, but in truth you knew the price they would pay, any that did not escape would suffer far worse tortures than yourself and even those that did escape had the mark of Osten upon their cheek, someone would know. You worried of their fate but sleep kept it from consuming your thoughts. Instead your dreams were of Lord, repeating your first meeting over and over, and of the man that looked his half brother Ambrose. your mind strained to pull together the details but it fell to pieces with every waking moment.

Erlera was often by your side during the trip home and you told her of Westeros, of Steadhold. She spoke no common, nor did Illion or Breon so you would need serve as their guide until they could learn. She had grown further affection for you, happy to see you every day and sleeping by your side when she could. It was an odd feeling. And you unsure of your want of it.

Asher also invaded your dreams, his final moments at the end of Sallo Rhod’s sword. His look of desperation, attempting to warn you. And then you heard Sallo’s screams, the bolts had taken him in the gut and another in the crotch, he died painfully, bleeding out. and yet it was not enough to still the wrath in your heart. Betrayal born of want.

Betrayal born of a lie.

Your lie.

Your heart was heavy. And you knew what you need do. Lord would have the truth of it one way or another. Despite it paining you so. You only hoped he did not forsake you in his wrath.

-End Chapter XIV-

>>43359675
>Ra Lore
Aww shit

Thanks for running Father.

We've now got three times the number of Myrish crossbowmakers we had expected, right?

>>43359769
Two, one of the kids got a bolt to the throat

>>43359769
Only one apprentice mate the other died.

So shorter thread today. Which is why I had hoped to run it on Monday and start the Dorne stuff today. Mess really. So to recap, you have gained:

Illion (Myrish Weaponsmith)
Breon his apprentice
An absolute ass ton of Myrish goods, it’ll make you look like a real Lord.
A fancy helmet.
Erlera, Illiad’s lover
Yanno(will replace Asher/Sallo in the Sons but you’ll need to find another)
Horses, complete breeding stock to make some badass dothraki horses.
And, because Illiad is a penny pinching son of a bitch, you’ll get 2 Wealth back.
So really no major loss other than Asher and Sallo and Illiad getting the absolute shit beaten out of him. I enjoyed delving into Illiad’s backstory and his family, plus doing some stuff where you can get btshit crazy figting without the law getting involved. I wish I had spent more time on describing Myr, but for some reason it just wasn’t working with me.

Anyway, next thread is one week from now 5 November, Thursday. 2PM EST. I definitely won’t be able to run this Monday, but, here’s a fun surprise. I go on a week long vacation starting the Saturday after the next thread so the 7th. I’m planning on running at least 3 times that week, with the rest of the time being taken up by Fallout 4. So yeah, I’ll let you guys know the details when I get them.

Thanks for participating as always. I’m excited to get to Brynden again now with all of this new information, no one as quite guessed Ambrose’s true origin in this yet nor his purpose but we have some close guesses. I’ll be around for questions if there are any.

>>43359831
You are a trooper and I thank you.

>>43359831
Thank you.

>>43359831
Thanks for the thread.

Must admit, i had thought Brynden would had more Essosi bastards.

I get the feeling Redward must be very confused and paranoid. Brynden returns he goes into panic mode and put all his points into power and wealth to get troops, forsaking everything else, even maesters and bandits runs amok in his realm. Then he sees Brynden not actually doing much and he might have had time to relax only for Brynden to suddenly investing in troops now.

>>43359831
That stormlander house our aunt is married into is your real life group's house, isnt it ?

>>43359929
Of the 10 rolls I did for it, only two came up positive. I was surprised too. I doubt I'll ever do anything with them though, since they're both girls.

Royce has one good advisor right now but he's mostly busy losing his shit over everything and ignoring him entirely. He is not a clever man. That said, he recently gained a Favor event. From what, I'll never tell.

>>43360044
>That said, he recently gained a Favor event. From what, I'll never tell.

The Queen or the fact that our sister is pregnant.

Any chance you could tell us the social rank of our girls ?

>>43360002
Haha Sure is. House Malroy was just a throwaway House I built to give some interesting hooks for my Targ lover player. Then I just went crazy and now we're here.

>>43360097
They better hide their girls and women if Brynden ever comes for a visit. But you did say in your group they managed to repel Aegon's invasion, so he may be a bit miffed about that

We'll kill the potential Redward rape baby, right? Or atleast send it away. I hope you aren't going to try and bring it into the fam

>>43360188
Blood is blood. Sending it away is just asking for someone to finance them and send them right back at us to claim our house.

Will laugh if the child is a daughter

>>43360188
Ofcourse. Just give it some poppy and it will never wake up. Babies dies in the crib all the time.

>>43360223
That 'thing' is not our blood

>>43360232
Its the child of our sister. Rape baby yes, but its as much blood as our bastard son is. Child is not guilty of the crimes of the father. We are not robbert baratheon.

I would just give the child to a peasent family to raise. Easy enough to keep an eye on them then, without giving any power or legitimacy, and without resorting to infanticide.

>>43360232
If our sister birthed it, it is our blood.

>>43360089
One is a prostitutes daughter. But the owner of the brothel so... Yeah that's still pretty bad.

The other is the Lysene noblewoman I've mentioned a few times before, so technically she's nobility.

>>43360152
I've yet to decide Brynden's loyalties regarding the dragons. I'm pretty much leaving that mess to you guys.

>>43360223
>Blood is blood
That's what I said last session when you were all bargaining with Dontos instead of accepting the bastard into our house. Fuck you hypocrits. I didn't get my bastard, you don't get your rapebaby.

>>43360334
I don't think we've decided yet either, IC or OOC.

We'll cross that bridge when we come to it.

I think our current attitude is that loyalty is a luxury, and we can't afford it right now. Ask us again when there aren't 2,200 soldiers on our doorstep.

>>43360188
This is going to be the decision that tests the quest apart. Can't wait.

>>43360338
I still need to do those rolls. I might have to do it on here so you guys actually believe me though.

>>43360338
Fuck you anon, the child will be raised well, about on par to what i just suggested we do for the rape baby, which makes me consistant and you bitter.

>>43360395
Not if it's a boy. He won't share our second name, he'll be a sister's son, not a brother's. A bastard due to assumed forced vows, it won't true kinslaying

I'm against raising the rapebaby myself. We'd have to hear our sister's opinion first of course. If we're lucky they wont have any of the Malroy features and we can dump it on some peasant

>>43360430
Technicalitys. Its still murder of a baby out of spite. But since you feel so strongly that way, i would compromise by going:
>>43360449
and asking how our sister feels about it.

>Tfw Malroys keep the seven, so we can't drown Redward to the drowned god, burn him to the red god or hang his entrails on weirwood trees to the old gods
Do the Seven even take ritual sacrifices?

>>43360471
We could just lock it in the top of a tower so it dies to the cold/thirst/starvation. So we technically dont kill it ourselves.

>>43360471
I don't think so, but they damn well should. A Trial by Combat sort of?

>>43360466
>I would compromise by going..
We already compromised on the bastard born boy of ours, he'll be raised by a peasant single mother instead of at our estate. No compromise on this, lad

>>43360471
Always monesterys.

>>43360388
>inb4 you roll perfectly so it ends up with silver hair and purple eyes.

Btw. You mentioned some of your group were lurker this quest. What do they think of it so far?

They think we are all crazed psychopats, right ?

>>43360506
We could always go with Brynden changing his mind when he sees it

>Brynden sees his sons and his heart turns soft. He allows the boy to live in his estate in Kings Landing with his mother.

>>43360538
Fuck no. We are not raising Redward's spawn. This point is nonnegotiable.

>>43360501
Trial By Combat: If you survive the repeated rapings we'll let you go to the Wall.

>>43360574
I meant our own bastard son.

Can we look at what the rapebaby means to us?
>rape baby
>heir to redward's lands
>heir to our lands
We have no heir, so if we kick the bucket, Redward takes over all our land. The crown already dislikes us, you think it's gonna legitimize our bastard? No, it's gonna reward the service of the guy who helped them in the revolution.

If the baby's a boy, we kill it or send it far off to a peasant couple. He will grow up illiterate, dumb, and a farmer with no knowledge of his true parents. If it's a girl, and we have a trueborn heir on the way, keep it to marry off to a low noble family.

>>43360574
>Redward's
Not Redward's, blood of our blood, the bastard to the tailor girl.

>>43360594
No he wont, Because Redward will already be dead if we got our hands on the baby and if the baby dies the land goes to our sister.

>>43360538
>his sons
You mean the child born of rape, the sacking of Steadhold, the murder of our family, and a rebellion against the rightful king?

That "son"?

>>43360594
If it's a girl, we could marry it to Victus and make him Victus Wardwaters or something

>>43360594
Nigga we have every intention of raping Royce to death. And he'll have to be dead if we are in a position to make decisions about the rapebaby.

We are NOT raising Redward's spawn.

>>43360621
No you fucking moron, the one we had to the tailor girl who warmed our bed one night. Learn to fucking read.

That silver haired fuck isn't for the Saltygars is he?

>>43360518
Oh god.

My girlfriend argues with you guys a lot about what I won't say.

Targ player doesn't understand the insanity, he was so mad about the lack of troops. Granted my fault but still. He's the military guy in my group.

And the one who plays Robb Waters thinks it's riot. He's privy to my notes so he knows what's going on and he's having a fucking stroke about you guys not clueing in to certain things.

All three of them have argued about the Redward baby thing with me. I'm a dick for including it they say. I just want to include the hard choices that the source material would. And some death, I won't lie Asher got red shirted because I haven't killed anyone close to you yet and I was in the mood to while preparing. Spoiler, one wrong decision and Illiad actually would have lost his tongue and he could have died.

>>43360621
"his son" as in "Brynden sees his son" his own son.

>>43360628
Well if it is a girl, marriage to victus would be a good idea for keeping the inheritence within the same small family cluster. Would have to go with a surname not including waters though.


>>43360659
Eh, those with knowledge always find everything obvious.

>>43360659

Fuck. Time to reread the whole damn quest.

>>43360652
He is not, can confirm. They all have W names and not as much silver hair. Ambrose is half the start of a new thread and half the continuation of some others

>>43360618
Have you seen how GoT handles children? They grow up into their father.
>Jon
Muh honor, marries a chick he fucked and ends up dying for it.
>Most of the dragonfuckers
Insane, murderous, incestual. The occasional "good" guy
>motherfucking Joffrey
Turned out like his mom and dad in this case, kills pregnant cats for fun. Loves putting heads on spikes

Sins of the father is a real thing in game of thrones

>>43360659
>My girlfriend argues with you guys a lot about what I won't say.

Its about Giselle and Obella, isnt it ?

Giselle is a slut and a whore, so is the celtigar girls. Obella is pure maiden of virtue.

>Targ player doesn't understand the insanity, he was so mad about the lack of troops. Granted my fault but still. He's the military guy in my group.

Gotta be honest, we didnt really have need of a military intill now. We made some early investments and took care of our land so we can more easily support our troops now.

>And the one who plays Robb Waters thinks it's riot. He's privy to my notes so he knows what's going on and he's having a fucking stroke about you guys not clueing in to certain things.

He better watch it or he will get put over the knee and get the belt

>>43360729
I dont think i argued that wasnt the case. Unless you quoted the wrong guy

>>43360750
>Obella is pure maiden of virtue.
She already fucked Blackshaft, lad. Blackshaft might eat off other men's plates for pleasure, but for marraige he aught feast on fresh food.

>>43360750
I'm actually leaning towards pure Vale waifu myself Not Giselle ofc, she's worthless as a marriage. But then again I highly suspect there is a hidden path to run away to the bank via a Giselle marriage.

Dornish slut wasn't nearly as good as the memes built it up to be.

>>43360797
Dude. You should read up on House Qorgyle. Those guys are crazy.

>>43360770
Sorry, on mobile and forgot to delete the link to your post.

>>43360782
>implying Brynden cares about shit like that

>>43360750
>Its about Giselle and Obella, isnt it ?
Hahaha Nailed it. She's biased because one is modeled after her

>>43360797
Spoiler, there definitely is.

I'm disappointed you don't like Obella though. I enjoy writing her but I haven't got as much chance to write Giselle yet either...

>>43360884
which one?

im guessing Giselle

>>43360884
Don't take it personally. I probably would never have been happy with HDW. I was a huge lover of Dalyna Redwyne and Alyssa Bordain.

File: Marc_Simonetti_Damon_Prin(...).jpg (46 KB, 318x502)

46 KB JPG

>>43360930
Now you are just being greedy anon. Let us have our HDW. You already had two of yours!

also

>wanting a bronze bitch.

>>43360930
Any news about Iron&Hate? Is is still gonna happen, or is it off?

>tfw no GoT quest has ever finished

>>43360750
>Gotta be honest, we didnt really have need of a military intill now. We made some early investments and took care of our land so we can more easily support our troops now.

Oh no he's just paranoid. I dropped a rival house's army on him over a disputed lake 2 months in our initial game. Now he's military all day everyday. He bought a maester once and I was baffled.

>>43360912
She says I'm not allowed to tell. Haha

>>43360930
Well hopefully I can change your mind then. But I preferred tracts of land personally.

>>43360962
>TFW you took every opportunity to memepost about HDW
>Having to backtrack and argue now that its actually in sight and you liked it better as an idea then as reality.


Also what little interactions we've had with Giselle were 2cute

>>43360995
hide it in your next post

How big are these tracts of land though?

>>43361017
If we dont get it i will just have to make a GoT quest in which the players are the HDW

>>43360727
He from one of the Valyrian houses?

Also did Royce get a favor from the queen?

Speaking of the Celtigars. How his Wilson and his sister ?

If he needs to get his sister away from Claw Island then there is plenty of space in Brynden's bed.

>>43361041
I actually thought about doing this for this quest.

Scraped ideas:

Drowned God fanatic that was given one of the Shields instead of Andrik.
North knight sworn to Manderly during the War of the Five Kings, lots of old god vs the seven stuff.
Dornish heiress sworn to Yronwood. Young woman constantly fighting off suitors , had a bastard daughter. A lot of animosity with another House to the north.
And then a few Houses born during the brief time the Stepstones were taken over.

>>43361173
>Dornish heiress sworn to Yronwood. Young woman constantly fighting off suitors , had a bastard daughter. A lot of animosity with another House to the north.

That does sound cool actually. Thought i would love to play a game during the blackfyre rebellions

>>43361129
Can't answer either without getting into spoilers. The first is a kind of, though.

>>43361150
They're actually going to come up next thread

>>43360621
I'm really not terribly sure that Brynden feels too strongly about the illegitimacy of the rebellion. If anyone is going to be sympathetic to 'Stolen Wife, Sister, Murdered father and brother in clear violation of feudal rights." it's going to be him, especially since all the REALLY terrible shit was done under the lannister banner.

>>43361173
A quest with a non-lord MC is something I've actually wanted for a while. It feels like it would have good GoT adventure/politics without getting bogged down in stats or turning into Petyr Baelish's retarded cousin.

A female MC would degenerate into pure yuri love pretty fast. I don't know if thats a good thing or bad thing.

>>43361216
True, but Robert got pretty good reparations. What did we get?

Inescapable debt(at the time) and being manipulated? The least Bobby B could have done was throw a HDW at us, but no, we have to do all the work

>>43361271
>A quest with a non-lord MC is something I've actually wanted for a while. It feels like it would have good GoT adventure/politics without getting bogged down in stats or turning into Petyr Baelish's retarded cousin.

>You play as a Hedge Knight named Gawen Hill the son of a disgraced septa and a unknown father. You travel the land, seeking employment wherever you can, hoping to find your place in life.

>>43361210
So he's fro. The Valyron Rykker or Luken houses then.

>>43361216
I cant wait for Brynden to kick down Jon Arryns door screaming "YOU FUCKING KNEW!" when he finds out about his sister