Fandom ~Full~ GoT: A Hunt for Dragons

[Midrick]

Treghar was content to sit back and watch the squabbling of the other people in the room, if this had been the encampments or city blocks where the mercenaries were quartered, there would be daggers in throats and blades being drawn at some of the words these nobles children had said. He simply leaned back and enjoyed it. He still had no idea why he was in the tower of the hand in the first place, until the hand brought up dragons.

Treghar's smirk dissapeared and he stopped leaning his legs, he sat up and listened with a grim expression as the hand described a rumor that a man was selling dragon eggs. He had stories as a child of the carnage dragons were capable of, assisting in the razing of the slave cities in essos. He still held his tongue waiting for the hand to finish speaking. Apparently the hand had hired Treghar without his own knowledge, it didn't matter to him, Lannister's had money and even if he wanted to reject the job, he didn't think he had a choice.

There was also the problem of his pay, the hand was not someone to trifle with. As his internal questioning continued the hand commanded him to stay behind for instruction, never a good sign when the main party was sent away and someone was kept behind. Treghar gave the hand a curt nod to signal his understanding, he then waited for the new arrivals and the main host to leave.

 

[General_warNpeace]

Relina
Nodding toward the Greyjoy girl as she answered her question Relina ignored the back and forth between family and took her leave, Ice by her side. She made note of the hands word's about secrecy, already coming up with a story for her companions, and took notice of his request for the mercenary to stay behind. Vowing to keep an eye on the merc and the two golden hair men as she did. With so much secrecy it would not be out of bounds to suspect that there is more to this mission then there seems.

She made it back to Stark's keep quicker, it seemed, then she had left. She found Castier passed out in the great hall before the fire, girl against his side and empty tanker in hand. Ryler was on a nearby table, no girl in sight but evidence of one's past presence in his lack of pants. Nice to see they were worried about the outcome. She thought fondly, a tad exasperated. Grabbing a pitcher of ale from one of the table's she proceeded to go about waking them. Castier woke up flailing with a shout, the woman immediately away from him and making a scramble for the remains of her clothes, claiming the coins Relina tossed at her. Ryler didn't even twitch so with a smirk, Relina proceeded to push her dear friend off the table. He landed with a thumb and woke with a groan. Hands on her hips she addressed the fools she claimed as companions. The woman making her hurried leave from the keep. "So much for bein me guards. The two of ya couldn't even stay sober until I came back."

Castier shot her a glare, Ryler still recovering. "Please Woman. It's us who need protection from ya. "

Ice growled making Castier falter. Smirking Relina moved onto the main point. "Rest tonight but tomorrow start the travel home. Tell Lord Winterfell and Dario that the meeting was of nothin of very importance, and that I be stayin behind, the hand has requested me presence in guarding a merchant back to Essos. He wants to be sure he makes it there safe. "

The two shared a glance, catching her hidden meaning clearly. The meeting wasn't about war but something else. Something to do with The hand giving her a mission to travel across the sea regarding something of value that she cannot speak of. Something other's may want. Admittedly, Relina didn't speak in code often, prefering to be blunt, and knew any man would be able to understand the real meaning of her words if they were clever enough. Ryler was the first to speak, seeming displeased. "We'll be returning the horse on ya behalf?"

Will we be taking action on your behalf if you went missing. Relina nodded. "Ey, wouldn't want to offend Lord Stark by leaving 'er behind. " Yes, and warn the Stark's that something may be amiss and to keep their guards up until I send word. Nodding Castier inquired. "Ya leaving soon then I recon? If we be leaving so soon after ya."

"Within the hour. It seem's like the hand is rather a impatient man. His poor wifey." Relina sighed, having not had a chance to rest much from her previous travels. Yes and the hand seems dangerous so be careful. She began gathering her weapons and supplies that she had to leave behind for the meeting. Feeling much more secure with her daggers and spear. "I should be takin my leave now. Wouldn't want the other little lords to wait to long. "

I am not travelling alone. There are other players. Potential spies. Do not send messages. Saying their farewells Relina took her leave, knowing her message has been recieved. The two may not be the most clever of men but they knew her long enough to understand her words underlying meaning. She made it to the docks with little trouble, despite never navigating the streets before. Just following the general flow of the city. Then she proceeded to wait until the others arrived. For once it seems, she had been on time.

 

[sitanomoto]

Arthur listened to the Hand, his smile slowly disappearing as he began to make mental notes of what was being said. When the Greyjoy and the Wildling began to take their leave, Arthur made to do so as well, gathering up his notebook and removing himself from the room.
He made it back to his own room hurriedly, the Attendants his mother sent with him looking at him expecting news.
"Mara, I'm going to write a letter for mother. Would you please give it to her upon your return home?" He said to a young woman. "And please, don't let anyone else but her read the letter."
"Of course, M'lord." The attendant said, giving him a small bow and a smile.
"And would you also please bring my Book to my room?" He said, emphasizing the word "book" to make it clear which book she was to bring him. The attendant could hear the capital "B." The book was one of his own writing, an already filled out journal of all of his findings about dragons from a variety of sources. Extra pages had been added in, and so had drawings, maps, and diagrams.

About a half an hour (and several crumpled drafts of a letter) later, Arthur had finally written something satisfactory. In the letter, he explained that he would be gone for a while. He wasn't sure how long he would be gone, and he instructed his mother not to worry, as he would be writing as often as he could to her (or at least, as often as he remembered). He omitted the part about the dragon eggs.
He folded his letter in thirds and wax-stamped it shut, handing it to Mara to take back. His Book was in his satchel, along with his notebook, a few miscellaneous other books on information he thought might be useful, two candles, four bottles of ink, and an extra quill. Of course, he had rations and a small whetstone too, for the journey and for his dagger. He checked and double-checked his supplies, making sure he had everything he needed before he was satisfied.
Nox watched her boy intently as he scurried about preparing until he walked over to her and smiled. "I think that's everything, Nox. Let's get going."
His dire wolf stood and licked her chops, coming to stand next to him.
"M'Lord Arthur," one of the attendants, a man, this time, spoke up.
"Yes?" Arthur turned, curious.
"We all wish you well on your journey, sir."
Arthur smiled. "Thank you. I hope you all have safe travels home."
He shouldered his satchel and beckoned Nox to follow him out of the keep.
~~~~~~~~
"That's two root vegetables in one day, Nox." Arthur said with a sad sigh as he arrived at the docks. "That one almost got stuck in my antlers that time." He looked at his friend, who looked back with a soft, sympathetic whine. "I really wish a hood would cover these damned things." He sighed again, keeping an eye on either the boards or his own feet, being careful not to make eye contact with anyone until he made it to the meeting point.

 

[Safton]

Haedrin took his leave from the chamber, content to leave the sellsword and Lannisters to themselves. After all, he had preparations to make. He made good time on the streets, cutting through a few alleyways that the Hand's steward hadn't dared take him into during their walk to the meeting. After arriving back at the Keep of the Vale, he went immediately to begin packing his things. He transferred the bulk of what he might normally carry on the mule onto Ashe, who bore the weight with a slight huff of indignation.

The most difficult task by far, however, was the letter. He began and stopped more times than he could count, finally setting on a simple message to his brother stating that he was traveling to Essos at the King's behest to accompany an envoy. Not to worry; he would return, but he wasn't sure when. Haedrin knew full well that that last bit was superfluous, his elder brother would worry all the same and his message would no doubt create more questions than answers. With a sigh of resignation, he rolled up the parchment and stamped it shut with a wax seal before handing it off to one of the servants of the manor. He instructed the young man to carry the message to the Grand Maester and have him send it via raven to Summerwind, then return and fetch the mule in order to bring it to the market for sale. Any money he earned from the transaction he could keep as his own. The servant wasted no time heading out on his mission, disappearing into the crowded streets, parchment in-hand.

With everything prepared, Haedrin took hold of Ashe's reins, leading the massive destrier out of the keep's gates. It wasn't hard to find his way to the harbor, following the very... interesting array of scents: briny seawater, rotting fish, human & animal waste, cut lumber, and the occasional bit of exotic spice that somehow managed to only make the entire mix that much harder to bear. King's Landing was still home to Westeros's largest and busiest port; it was one of the few pieces of infrastructure that had remained largely intact after the Great Burning and had only been expanded since, managing to stay ahead of its closest rivals in the Stormlands, Westerlands, and Dorne.

As always, the harbor was abuzz with activity as mercantile ships docked or departed, their crews traveling to and from while captains argued with customs officials and whores prowled the docks in search of "deprived" sailors. Luckily, the Hand had apparently sent word of the mission ahead. After a few questions to various dockworkers, Haedrin was finally pointed in the direction of the Harbor Master himself.

He was a grizzled old man, with a robust gut, bushy eyebrows, and skin that was tanned to an almost olive complexion. He shook Haedrin's hand, his grip surprisingly firm and his palm calloused almost beyond belief. Haedrin could tell this was no bureaucrat given his job through political favor: he was a sailor, born and bred. The Harbor Master gruffly informed him that all Iron Islander ships were moored at the East Docks, including the Yorith. There a small crane was waiting to help load beasts and supplies aboard the ship. After thanking the man (who merely grunted an affirmation before trundling off), Haedrin turned on his heel to head toward the designated section of the harbor.

 

[Crono]

Hearing that they were essentially sworn to secrecy wasn't much a surprise after hearing dragon eggs were involved. It was clear the throne was taking this seriously, even if they'd put together an odd group to check on it. Andren had little care for having to lie to his family back home. Once dismissed he opted to leave, not missing the fact that the Mercenary would be given orders in secret. The Hand wasn't even trying to keep that hidden, he wasn't sure if that should make him more worried or less so. Either way, he wasn't about to get caught off guard if he could help it.

At the Reach's keep he'd started the letter to be sent home, he'd given thought as to what the say on his way through Kings Landing. At first he'd considered a simple lie and leave it at that. But as he'd started writing things had changed, one such excerpt. The King requires my expertise, as such I will be unable to return home for the time being. It was a subtle shot at his father. Once finished he met up with the men who'd escorted him to Kings Landing, informing them that they were to return home and deliver the message along with the fact that he wouldn't be coming. It was clear as day that they were baffled and hesitant. "Feel free to go against the realm if you wish. I'm not to be accompanied." He spoke adamantly, and was met with a glare by the highest ranking of the men. They'd turned to leave but Andren caught the grumbles as they glanced back at him, catching the phrase Disgraced Lordling. He'd heard it stated regarding him on occasion, rarely to his face. Few back home knew of his lack of title, and even fewer the details of why. However those Derren Blackwater trusted to do the job were given all the details so as to know what behavior to look for. Andren's gloved fist tightened as he held his tongue, instead turning on his heel to head towards the stable area where Rowan awaited.

With everything ready to be set out Andren headed for the docks with Rowan. Admittedly he'd had to stop once or twice to be pointed in the right direction but eventually it wasn't difficult to hear the sounds one would hear at such places. Still, he hadn't a clue as to which ship he was even looking for. Andren recalled the Greyjoy woman calling it Yorith, and he knew it was a ship of the Iron Islands. That was all he had to go on. Luckily for him however, a familiar large man leading his horse came into view passing by the crossroads just ahead. Frankly he was hard to miss and at least he looked like he knew where he was going. Opting not to miss his chance Andren quickened his pace, pulling Rowan to keep up with him since he'd decided not to ride the horse here. "You!" He'd called out awkwardly once he'd gained enough ground for Haedrin to hear him. It didn't help that none of them had given names at the meeting, there had been a distinct lack of introductions or formality frankly. Once Andren successfully caught up to where he was keeping pace alongside Haedrin's steed, his own huffed out a sputter at being pulled along so quickly and suddenly. Ignoring it he regarded the man towering even despite not being on his horse, "Have you found this Yorith yet, my lord....?" He'd given an open pause to allow Haedrin to fill it in. Andren knew it was a small reach but given the mans attire as well as the fact that he'd been at the meeting where other Lord's and Lady's had been he assumed the man a Lord.
Safton ​

 

[NanLia]

Gerrad stood stiffly still at the head of the table whilst the lords and ladies left the chambers, while what he wanted to say to the mercenary wasn't dire or secretive, it was no business of theirs. "The city guards pulled you from a brothel this evening, I have been told." He started, regarding the gruff looking man still seated at his table. The very least he had seemed more interested in their conversation after he had mentioned dragons. "My apologies for pulling you away from your evening of entertainment - I'll be sure to compensate you for your losses." He turned and stepped to a cabinet at the far wall, removing a gilded box which he returned to the table and flipped it open. Within he removed several gold coins that he tossed across the table, they rolled and stopped near the mercenary. "You were brought here for many reasons, besides the obvious mission I've assigned to all: bring back the truth of the dragon eggs, or the eggs themselves, your secondary mission is to make certain that the first is successful."

He dragged out a chair and took a seat, leaning over the table, his hands folded before him. "While the king is always elected by the noble lords and ladies of the realm there is a new kind of game for the throne. Many of the Houses trade in secrets to earn favours with other houses to vote for them." He paused, regarding the mercenary carefully. "I am in no way saying this is how our Great and Noble King Baratheon ascended to the throne, but I am saying that I can't trust the houses not to attempt to steal the eggs for themselves - should there be any. You are tasked with keeping the Houses honest and by eliminating any threat to the King and kingdom." Selecting several more coins he added them to the first few he'd tossed at the mercenary. "By any means necessary. Leave your information with the secretary at the gate house - we'll be expecting vigilant updates from yourself as you travel and returning any information you may have received. Do you have any questions about your task?"
Midrick

 

[NanLia]

Lexia traversed Kings Landing with ease, while most inland ports and cities gave her trouble something within the roadways of King's Landing made it simple for her to navigate. She imagined it was likely due to the aqueducts beneath the stone work that carried in fresh water and carried waste water away. The water always sung to her, ever since she was a child. She was thankful the Iron Island's keep was seated on a cliff-side above the sea, the ducts leading from it towards the rest of the city. She stepped into the great hall to see several of her crew still about, drinking and relaxing. The sat forward as she entered, excited to hear what the reason for their trip to King's Landing was for. "Dragon Eggs." She smirked, the crew looking at one another before several shaking their heads. "I'm serious, they think there are eggs somewhere int he world." She shrugged and wandered further.

"Alas, it isn't for any of you to discover, you'll pack up your things from the ship and find employ on other vessels or return home. I'll collect you once I return. Oh, and tell my father what we're on about, eh?" Satisfied her message would reach her father, she headed to the back of the Keep and her current quarters to pack her things.

***
​

Lex stepped into the bed chambers she had been using for the past week within the Keep. A candle had burnt low and now flickered out as the wind from the hall caught it but she had seen, much to her surprise, the forms of the two girls she’d instructed to wait curled up in her bed. She smirked as she closed the door behind her, making her way through the darkness to the side table where she relit the candle. The girls stirred awake and Lex moved on to drag her leather pack off of the dresser and set it aside the bed. “Afraid we won’t have that night together, loves.” She pouted playfully, moving around the room to collect the clothing strewn about. “Turns out I do serve a purpose to the King and Kingdom that isn’t bedding lovely ladies.” The girls sat up, both watching as she worked. She slipped her coin purse from her belt and started to neatly stack coins on the side table as she spoke. “I’ll pay you both for the rest of the week.” Four gold coins, she moved on to stack silver coins. “You can stay here and enjoy the Keep for that time; the serving staff won’t mind to have work.”

“You promised to take us with you to Pyke.”

Lex paused, looking over the girls as they both had determined and disappointed looks. “You wouldn’t like Pyke, it’s cold and rainy. You’re warm girls, not frigid sea girls.”

“That’s not true, we’re stronger than that.” “I won’t survive long here…”

Lex frowned, wrinkling her nose. She knew both statements were true - she’d seen the scars left by man. “There’s no going back. Once you are a Salt Wife you’ll be one until the end of your days. Any children you bare under my house name will be my children, with my name and Ironborn once they pass their rights.”

The girls nodded along as she spoke.

“Fine, get dressed.”

***​

The harbour buzzed with life even at this late hour. King’s Landing’s port and docks never quieted even in the late of night - which made it certainly the least hospitable place for residents. In truth, only the truly poor or truly vile lived nearest to the harbour.

Lexia weaved through the crowds of sailors and dock men as they loaded and unloaded ships along gangplanks. Her pack slung over her left shoulder, her right hand gripped the soft cotton sleeve of the first girl, who, in turn, held tight to the other, lest they get lost in the bustle. She approached the Harbour Master’s office, stepping up to the window. “Evening,” She smiled, releasing the girl so she could fish free a coin and toss it into the window. “I’m searching for a sister ship - one slated for the Iron Islands.”

The Harbour Master frowned at the coin, placing one single finger on it before sliding off of his manifest and onto the table beside it with a click. “All Iron born ships are docked in the same place - East docks.” He didn't look up from his manifest. “Nagga is destined for the Iron Islands, casting off within the hour.”

Without a word Lex continued on her journey; she knew the Nagga and her crew. The captain was solid and could be trusted. She headed down the docks back to Yorith where she stopped at the gangplank, her crew unloading their effects and the dock hands erecting a crane for her companies horses to be loaded. She turned to the girls. “Go down one level to my chambers - the only room with a door. Change into clothes for the seas.” They both nodded, turning to head up the ramparts and out of sight. “Hurry up!” She called after them.

Yorith groaned against the docks as the tide was rising, lifting it among the moors. He always sat high on the waters when empty but it was the best for high speed travel. It would make for a far rockier journey than normal - she couldn’t only hope her soon to be passengers had strong stomachs. Fifty feet in length the Ironwood Caravel was something to behold, a beautifully painted golden kraken climbed the bow, casting it’s long tentacles over the rail and up the rigging towards the folded sails.

The main deck only held the wheel and masts, below that the main deck with her cabin, wardroom filled with maps and manifests, a simple galley and the crew quarters in the forecastle. The lower deck would contain the horses - something she was not entirely thrilled about - live cargo left a mess, certainly those that didn’t temper well to the seas. Beneath all of that was the storage, now empty save for provisions of fresh water and food for the seas.

Safton General_warNpeace Crono Archon sitanomoto

 

[Safton]

Haedrin glanced over his shoulder as he heard a male voice calling out. He was relieved to see that it was, frankly, the most unassuming of the would-be companions he'd met in the Small Council Chamber. He looked vaguely familiar, but Haedrin couldn't place it. As he prompted the knight for his name, Haedrin quickly filled it in with a polite half-bow. "Ser Haedrin Caydus of Summerwind Stronghold, sworn to House Arryn of the Vale. I leave the lording to my elder brother," he said with a smile. "This is Ashe," he gestured to the mare behind him before nodding. "And yes, I believe I have." He glanced down toward the East Docks, pointing toward the ship moored at its end. It was no grand vessel in size: larger than a sloop to be sure, but small in comparison to the enormous galleons that dominated the navy and merchant fleet of the Crownlands. However, it was sleek in appearance and he had little doubt it would accommodate a group of their size while still making good time. The biggest giveaway as to the ship's identity was the golden kraken ascending the bow: a surprisingly ostentatious touch for the otherwise-dour Iron Islanders. However, it left little mystery as to the ship's owners. That and the fact that dockhands seemed to be surrounding the vessel in a flurry of activity, apparently assembling a crane.

Returning his attention to his newfound companion, Haedrin offered him his hand. "And who might you be?"

Crono

 

[sitanomoto]

Arthur continued to walk quietly, glancing up every now and then to make sure he wasn't going to run into anyone. He finally spotted the Yorith. It was a wonderful sight. A mazterfully crafted golden kraken's tentacles snaked their way up the bow of the ship, and Arthur made a mental note of it for him to sketch later. No doubt it belonged to the Greyjoy representative.
In his excitement, Arthur managed to trip over his own two feet and go sprawling on the docks, landing face-first in the dark, warped wood. Nox rushed to his side, concerned, as some of Arthur' belongings spilled out of his satchel. His Book, for one, as well as some of his other books and an ink bottle. He cursed under his breath, thoroughly embarrassed as he sat up. He looked up to see his ink bottle roll between the feet of two men, and was even more embarrassed when he realized that they were both from the Small Council chamber. He cursed again as he began to gather up his belongings, his face going redder than a rose.
Safton Crono

 

[NanLia]

Lexia raised an eyebrow as Stark lordling announced himself and passed her by, heading up the gangplank and onto her ship without so much as a thought to see if she minded. It riled her to no end. Though she had never really met the man herself he was no different then any of the other would be princes of Westeros, believing the world would answer him as he pleased. "To begin, Lord Stark: you never step foot on a ship without the express permission of its captain. It's bad luck for you and the rest of the crew. Second to that, I am not here to mother you. You didn't make the meeting on time, I don't have the will to explain what's what." Down the dock by several paces a scene occurred, the antlered youth lay splayed out on the wood beams before two of the other lordlings that had been part of the meeting. "I suggest you make a better attempt at speaking with some of 'em. Maybe they'll be kind enough to teach you how to read a calendar, since your Maester failed." She nodded towards the three not far from the Yorith.

The women were returning, passing by the Lord Stark now clothed in her own dress. The summer girls, as Lex fondly mused, didn't look right. The girl with red locks and pale skin, a likely distant daughter of the North was taller than Lex by half a foot, the dark woolen clothing stretched over her larger frame making it look as though she might pop out of any which seam if she didn't move carefully. "Moira," She reached out and helped the ginger girl down the gangplank before reaching back for the second. "Anaris." Who smiled shyly - she'd been the quiet one the past several days they'd been together within the Iron Keep. She was smaller than Lex, her frame fragile making the Iron Island clothing look far too large for her. Her golden skin and long black hair perfectly complimented her dark almond eyes. If it hadn't been for the scarring and marring left behind by the hands of men, she could easily pass as a noblewoman. Both seemed surprised Lex had used their names - she hadn't at all despite knowing them. Speaking their names before meant that Lex would have had to do something stupid and heroic when she didn't know what the outcome of her own fate would have been.

"Come, we need to meet a Captain." She said, leading the pair further down the docks. The Iron Fleet wasn't what it used to be. Mostly ships like her own: a caravel or slightly larger the size of a frigate, occupied the docks but they certainly did not represent the entirely of the fleet. Some as large as a galleon patrolled the Narrow Sea and the Summer Sea to protect the rest of the Iron Fleet from brigands and pirates. The y approached the Nagga, two moorings past the Yorith - another of a few made from the rare Ironwood, was nearing the end of their loading. The crane was being hauled away and the dock-men checking the lines ready to cast off. Thankfully the gangplank remained. As they approached she reached out and caught Anaris by the arm, pulling the summer girl back to prevent her from climbing on board without permission. She'd learn the ways soon enough.

Waddyawant?" A voice called from over the rail, a grizzled old man squinted down at the three.

"I'd like to speak to Captain Humble." Lex called in return, giving nothing more. After a moment of awkward silence the old man grumbled something inaudible and turned away from the rail.

Lexia turned to face the two girls. "A few important things you should know before you head to Pyke." She said, both girls listening intently. "Don't let my other wives boss you around, just because you are new there doesn't change the fact that you're all equal." Moria glance bewildered to Anaris before wording, other wives? Lexia continued. "Viola might be noble born but she'd no different than either of you. She'll show you our ways. Don't trust Lotte. Don't eat anything she offers, don't lay in her bed. Don't follow her anywhere alone. She will try and kill you. I know this because she's killed others before. She's the only of my salt wives that lost her freedom in a fight: she tried to kill me and failed. She opted to be a salt wife instead of being sacrifices to the Deep One. And please, be kind to Number Three." At this Lex paused, a slow smile crossing her lips. "We don't know her name yet, she's from the summer isles and doesn't speak a word of common. At least not the last time I was home."

Anaris spoke quietly, her voice shaking. "We don't want to leave you, you promised to keep us safe."

Lex inhaled deeply but laughed. "Go to Pyke, eat, sleep and be merry. With any luck I'll returning and if I don't? We'll Theon will be looking for his own salt wives and you two are a prize. How do you fancy yourselves being the wives of the next Lord of Pyke?" She winked at the pair, turning her attention to the Captain as he descended the gangplank to greet her. Lexia took his hand, gripping his forearm and he gripped hers in greeting. "Greetings Captain Humble. I hear you're headed to Pyke and I'm hoping you'll take my wives home for me? Being sent across the waters by the King's bidding."

The Captain released Lexia's hand and looked over the girl, nodding. "Of course, Lord Captain, They'll be safe on board Nagga, I swear it."

Satisfied that the girls were well on their way, Lexia waited for the lines to be cast off and the ship away from the docks before she turned back towards the Yorith and whatever their adventure might hold for her."

Interactions: Rusty of Shackleford
Mentions: Crono Safton sitanomoto

 

[Crono]

Andren had partially bit his tongue when he'd been corrected, quickly making the interaction awkward despite the Knight clearly not giving it a second thought. Initially he'd assumed nearly all in the meeting had been Lord's or Lady's, other than the sellsword and the...more roughly attired woman that appeared with the wolf. "My apologies Ser Haedrin, you'll have to forgive me for having assumed." He gave the man an apologetic look before turning to look-over the horse that was introduced. "She's a tough one I can tell." That she'd have to be to carry him around all the time. Andren had followed the mans attention towards where he claimed the ship was docked, and picked it out quickly enough. Thankfully the Knight was more capable with directions than he was.

He'd grasped the man in a firm handshake when offered, "Lord Andren Blackwater of Highgarden, like you I leave the actual lording bits to my elder brother Asher." Well, not that he actually had a choice in the matter even if Asher wasn't the eldest. "And this is Rowan, if he bites you don't worry. It's just his way of showing his affection." Andren winked at the man, it was a jest of course. Rowan hadn't bitten anyone in years, though he was a known nibbler. Abruptly there was a thud noise ahead, and something rolled towards them on the dock. Just as the ink bottle started to pass between him and Haedrin, he quickly shoved a foot out to stop it's momentum. "And that," He started saying softly after having bent over to grab said bottle but pointing at the younger antlered teen with one free finger. "Is a potential problem." There was a small huff before Andren put on a smile and walked over to Arthur as he hurriedly gathered his belongings from the wooden planks below. "Not very light on your fight are we?" He spoke, bending over to grab another object that sprawled out, all the while keeping one eye on the Direwolf. Once he straightened his back Andren held out both objects for Arthur to take.​

Safton sitanomoto

 

[Safton]

Haedrin waved away Andren's apology with a smile, before turning back to glance at Ashe who seemed to toss her head slightly in acknowledgement of the man's compliment. That she is. Perhaps too much so for her own good, Haedrin thought ruefully. His eyes widened slightly as the man introduced himself. The Blackwaters of The Reach were one of the Great Houses of Westeros, having assumed the position held by the Tyrells in centuries past. It also explained Andren's familiar face: Haedrin had seen him and his brother both while competing at tourneys before he left for Essos. While Asher gave him all he could handle in the joust, while Andren's talents had lain elsewhere. He was one of the most skillful archers he had seen in all his years. His eyes drifted surreptitiously to the longbow strapped to the side of Rowan as Andren introduced the beast.

Haedrin smiled, giving the steed a polite half-bow. "Nice to make your acquaintance, both of you," he said. Before he could speak further, he saw a blur of movement out of the corner of his eye followed by a distinct thud. He turned with a bemused look to see the antlered young man from the Council Chamber sprawled on the ground along with several of his personal effects. Haedrin strode forward alongside Andren, keeping his movements slow and deliberate to appease the direwolf only feet away, watching the two strangers with a protective glare. He placed a gloved hand on the young man's shoulder to help steady him as he returned to his feet. "Are you quite all right?"

Crono
sitanomoto​

 

[Archon]

Lancel stared incredulously at the scene around him, adventurers and heroes, a quest worthy of legends; establishing a legacy to shatter the feats of the most mighty heroes the world had ever seen. Pretty words prickled with poison wine; Errand's intentions were good, but his promises worth less than a whore's loyalty. He felt no impending urgency or peaking greatness, he felt like a castaway, banished to the free Cities on some errant ghost-hunting with the other undesirables the Seven Kingdoms squelched form it's putrid underbelly. A man with antlers, what nonsense was that? A curse of the Gods, he'd turned his nose up at the Lady Lexia formerly, webbed skin was no ordinary affliction no doubt, but fucking antlers? Madness, he thought. Madness and insanity. But now was no time for regret, the die was cast, his fate was written and to slink away now would dishonour everything he thought he believed - everything he did. He had to wonder; did the Red God watch with an acute eye? Was Lancel special in some small way? The oddity of his current company seemed insulting at a glance, but he pulled his mind apart in search of some deeper meaning. Was he chosen?

He snapped back to reality when the noticeable drift of the high tides rippled beneath Lexia's mighty ship - the Ironborn were talented shipbuilders if nothing else. The denied Lady Paramount herself now stood illuminated beneath the gleaming evening sun, a magnanimous orange stretch that blanketed the looming seat of Westeros, King's Landing, in a majestic glint of gold. A poetic reflection of the Crown's true power; a Lannister. "You almost forget the city smells of horded shit and looks like a giant latrine from the sea." Lancel exclaimed, approaching the Ironborn from behind. he hadn't interacted with her much, they'd exchanged a formal greeting on occasion, brokering trade between the Iron Fleet and Lannisports docks, but not much else. Still, it was more experience than he had with any other here - it was enough for him.

"First time I saw you was at the tourney at Lannisport - you'd arrived with the supplies and Lord Caedwyn Westerling took you for a serving girl, I've never heard a man's nose crack like that." he complimented, a slight smirk at the memory, Lord Westerling was not a well liked man, and the shattering of his nose caused him to pull out of the tournament early - a true reflection of his inner constitution - or lack thereof.

NanLia

 

[General_warNpeace]

Relina
Bathed within the shadow from a nearby ship Relina watched her companions start to arrive, some in rather amusing fashion, and none of them seeming to notice her. She barely withheld a snort when Arthur made his clumsy entrance. Hope he has better balance on a ship. The men that witnessed the fall reacted with good humor and friendliness, telling of their characters. Huffing, Ice shook her head and laid down. The lazy beast clearly intending to take a nap while they waited. Snorting, Relina decided to start boarding the ship lest she have a sleeping dire wolf to care for. She paused on her way past the trio noticing a loose parchment, that seemed to have escaped Arthur during the fall, caught in a crack in the docks. Bending she picked it up and held it out toward him. "It seem's ya lost somethin Arth'ar."
sitanomoto Safton Crono

 

[sitanomoto]

As he gathered up his scattered belongings, Arthur's face flushed redder as two of the men from the small council chambers appeared concerned.

"Not very light on your feet, are we?"
"Are you quite alright?"

"Th-thank you.... I think I'm alright." He smiled as he was handed his personal belongings. "Nothing much hurt other than my own pride.... In case you didn't notice, these damned antlers make me a little more top-heavy than I would like," he said, scratching the back of his head with a chuckle as he tried to make light of his situation. Nox was at his side, watching Haedrin and Andren warily, but relaxed when she saw they were only helping her boy. She dutifully held a quill in her mouth, being very careful not to break it in her jaws.
"Oh, thank you, Nox!" He took the quill from the mouth of the large black dire wolf, and she blinked in response. Arthur gratefully took his ink bottle back, looking around for whatever else he misplaced. He took stock of his belongings. His Book was back in his satchel, but it seemed to be missing a page--

"It seem's ya lost somethin Arth'ar."

Arthur turned and smiled at Relina. "Th-thank you!" He said, taking the page and putting it back in the Book, closing it inside the bag. He was always a little shy about his favored topic of research simply because of what Dragons did, and could do. Most people considered it a taboo topic, so he tended to keep his notes a secret.
"I promise I'm not always this clumsy...." he said quietly, turning to smile at the rest of the group. "Especially not on the open water. I seem to have better sea legs than land ones, I guess."
He looked at the Yorithand then at Lexia Greyjoy, taking a step towards the ship. "Permission to board, sir?" He called out, hoping that he used the right pronoun (he knew how finicky Ironborn were about their titles).
Safton Crono General_warNpeace Archon NanLia

 

[Midrick]

Treghar took the coins and nodded at his instructions. Simple enough. He thought to himself. He promptly left the red keep and made his way down to the docks, most of his personal effects were already on him and he didn't travel heavy, one of the benefits of being mercenary most of his life was knowing what to take and how to travel long distances while encumbered.

He made his way down through flea bottom, and the stories he heard about the place were true, populated by the poorest of the poor as well as most of the criminal population resided there. The smell would've made some of the higher born folk vommit, but the stinking aftermaths of the battlefield had long since dulled his sense of smell to such offense's. The stories about the nobles shit from the red keep was also true, as there seemed to be a small stream of the stuff running down the middle of the street.

After a very unpleasant walk through flea bottom, he scanned the harbor a ship called the Yorith, his familiarity with ships was hazy at best, but he could spot property of a highborn easily enough, all you had to do was look for the gold. He saw the bow ornament wrought of the stuff, for all the Greyjoy's talk of iron they sure did seem to indulge in the lavish. He began the walk down the line of the ships that were moored, and saw the fellow with the antlers take a spill on the ground. One of the books the man dropped was a book on westerosi knife fighting. Don't fucking tell me. He thought to himself, he wasn't being paid by arguably one of the most powerful men in the kingdoms to babysit someone who didn't know how to fight.

He walked up to the group standing by the gang plank to the ship, he let out a short whistle to get Arthur's attention, And offered the book to him.

sitanomoto General_warNpeace Safton Crono

 

[NanLia]

Lexia's mood darkened, watching the Nagga move within the waves and then out of the cove out of sight only reminded her how much she did not want to be on the errand. Of course her curiosity had been piqued with the mention of Dragons but was the truth behind the rumours worth spending the time with the other Westerners? As though at perfect queue she heard Lancels exclamation, too close for comfort. She'd been lost in thought and hadn't heard him approach. She turned slightly to peer at him from the corner of her eye.

She knew the man, as much as he would likely know her, both in name and feats. She knew his religious allegiance had been quite the talk of the ports, while worshipping the Lord of Light was near common place in several places within Westeros it was still very much considered fanatical. Some believers of the faith taking it in more radical way, opting to burning people at stakes and entire small towns to the ground for refuting the God of Light. So far as she knew Lancel was not among the radicals, but it was always the quiet ones that surprised you with a knife in the ribs

Lexia raised an eyebrow as the lion went on to mention his first memory of her. She barked a laugh, turning to face him wholly. "How is that old fart, eh?" She questioned without caring for the answer. "You know, I would have been more receptive had he not suggested him being the best of men. I don't take kindly to landers insulting my husband," She nodded towards Yorith. "He's a little sensitive at times."

She paused, attention drawn away as the antlered youth called out a request to board. "It's Captain and yes: get yer shit on board. The sooner done, the sooner we cast off. The fore castle has the crew quarters." She called to the others meandering on the docks. She sighed heavily over looking her new 'crew'. Lex glanced back at Lancel. "Tell me Lion, how well can you hold your Green Nectar?"

Interactions - Archon Midrick Safton General_warNpeace sitanomoto Crono

 

[Crono]

Andren simply nodded as Arthur started speaking about the downside of his affliction. He'd just have to take the younger man's word for it as he couldn't really imagine. At the mention of being less clumsy on the sea Andren turned to look towards the sea, admittedly he had little experience on boats. But he could only imagine it wasn't too different than what he remembered. Then the antlered man was off, clearly headed in the direction of the Yorith. Andren shrugged at the group suddenly being left behind and glanced at the two companions still nearby before trudging forwards and tugging gently at the reigns for Rowan to follow suit.

Andren regarded the crane carefully as he handed off Rowan's reigns to one of the dockhands, the small group of them working quickly to position the horse into position. He'd only glanced towards the boat where Arthur had met up with the two already aboard before turning his attention back watch Rowans progress on being loaded onto the boat. Only looking back when a whistle caught his attention, the sellsword had arrived as well much to his disdain. The man gave a small rub to the side of Rowan's muzzle before he started towards the plank leading to the Yorith where a small group had gathered.​

 

[Safton]

Haedrin listened solemnly as Arthur remarked on his antlers. Haedrin was no stranger to getting second glances from those around him because of his height, but he couldn't imagine the kind of "attention" Arthur's affliction brought him by comparison. They were soon joined by two others from the meeting: the scaled woman and the sellsword. He couldn't help but wonder what the latter had remained behind to discuss with the Hand, but knew better than to ask.

Instead, he spared them each a brief nod before turning to follow Andren toward their vessel, continuing to lead Ashe by the reins until she came to a stop behind Rowan. One look at the crane and the warhorse huffed indignantly, no doubt remembering her last trip across the Narrow Sea. "Sorry, girl," Haedrin murmured, running his palm along her mane. "It'll be quick, I promise." With that, he nodded to the nearby deckhands who began unloading a few of the items strapped to the steed and setting them with the other supplies to be loaded.

Haedrin turned on his heel, approaching the others. He wasn't surprised to see their captain waiting for each of them, apparently engaged in conversation with their resident Lannister. It was no secret that the Iron Islanders and Lannisters shared a profitable political and trade relationship. "Captain, Lord Lancel," he said politely, nodding to each of them before turning his attention toward the former. "Yorith is a fine ship. I've never seen his like," he remarked, narrowly remembering to use the correct pronoun from the meeting. The compliment was sincere enough, but came out stilted in flat in delivery: idle flattery was not his strong suit.

NanLia Crono Archon General_warNpeace sitanomoto Midrick

 

[sitanomoto]

Arthur smiled as the Greyjoy replied to him. "Captain it is, then!" He started towards the boat when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned and saw the sellsword holding out his book on knife wielding tips. "Th-thanks...." he said, quieter and a little more intimidated. This particular man and his profession made the hair on the back of Arthur's neck stand on end, but it didn't matter that much. "I appreciate it."
He turned back to the Yorith, gesturing for Nox to come with him as he boarded the ship. He went straight to the forward bow of the ship, staring at the ocean and smiling as the sea breeze ruffled his hair and danced about his antlers. He had always loved the smell of the ocean, and its depths intrigued him. His eyes trailed on horizon, and a sense of apprehension rose in his chest as his hand automatically moved to Nox's fur. "We'll be okay." He whispered to her, hoping no one else was paying attention.

"We'll be okay....."

Safton Crono NanLia Midrick General_warNpeace Archon

 

[NanLia]

Lexia watched the loading of the Knights and Lords horses stoically. She wasn't particularly impressed with the beasts being on board - Yorith suffered the worst of it. The mess left behind by livestock was always unholy and took weeks for the stench to leave the lowest deck. The others were starting to board and she couldn’t delay any longer. She inhaled deeply before exhaling slowly, praying for the Drowned God to grant her eternal patience for their journey ahead.

She strode across the dock and up the gangplank onto the main deck of her ship. “Crew quarters are one deck down,” She instructed to no one in particular. “In the forecastle - hope none of you were counting on privacy. It’ll take us five days to Pentos if the winds are against us but I’ll put a word in with the Deep One and try and get us there in three.” Satisfied they’d find their way, Lex headed to the prow of the ship to start removing the docking ropes and tossing them back onto the wharf.

The crew quarters were cramped, wooden bunks fitted in with the arc of the ship leaving a gap nearest to the deck. Each of the bunks had clean bedding, simple cotton sheets and woolen blankets. From the rafters hung oil lanterns, currently extinguished.

Crono Safton sitanomoto Midrick Archon General_warNpeace

 

[Safton]

Haedrin counted himself lucky that Lexia ignored his compliment rather than rebuke him outright. He stepped onto the ship after her, the feeling of wooden planks underneath his boots neither unpleasant nor particularly welcome in all honesty. He listened silently to the Captain's impromptu briefing, nodding stiffly before turning back to see Ashe being fitted with the harness by the crane operators before being hoisted up with a whinny of protest. Turning away from the sight with a mental apology to his steed, he turned to make his way into the forecastle. He had to duck down to make it through the entryway... and wasn't excited to find that the rest of the crew quarters were no more spacious. He didn't plan to spend much time inside the bowels of the ship doing anything other than resting: it was impossible for him to stand upright anywhere inside the forecastle. With a stifled groan, he picked out a small bunk in the back corner of the common area and began unpacking.

 

[Archon]

Green nectar, an odd choice, Lionel noted, eyes glazing at the overwhelming monotony of the climbing waves. "I've never tasted it, sounds special. Vintage?" Lionel had quizzed, but business pressured Lexia to more instructional matters as the remainder of their rag-tag crew climbed aboard. He spied the large man to his side and offered him a nod, "Lord Arryn," he answered graciously, though the two remained strangers, Lancel's interest in the other Houses was stifled at best. Whilst many of those present elected to seek out bunks and rooms to claim, the golden-haired Lannister remained poised at the edge of the ship. Five days to Pentos, in search of a rumour, for who knew how long? This mission was becoming increasingly dubious with each passing moment, but the packed storage and the presence of all their backpacks and equipment meant a runaway was long past--not that he'd desert otherwise, he held too much personal pride and honour to be cowed by an errand, no matter how pointless and potentially lethal.

 

[Crono]

Andren listened carefully as the ships owner spoke before taking her leave. The temporary crew seemed to be dispersing, so Andren opted to go below deck until he found where the horses were housed. He regarded Rowan softly as he neared the clearly uncomfortable horse, listening to the dock-hands finishing up with the Knight's steed. The man shushed the horse as he neared, reaching out to stroke up the soft cheek in an attempt to calm him. "I know, the sea is even more new to you than I. It's just a few days then we'll get you back on solid ground." Was he trying to convince his steed or himself? Honestly it was likely both on some level. Andren wasn't looking forward to the long sea travel, he was unaccustomed to it. No doubt he'd go stir crazy by the end of the voyage.​

 

[NanLia]

With the moorings freed Yorith groaned and rocked, the side panels bumping against the docks twice before settling. Lexia hissed with annoyance – the lines had been too taught; when the sea level raised with high tied Yorith was kept on a list. If they had been adequately trained or even gave a slight care for the standards of the ships moored within their harbor they’d know the long list of potential damage it could have done to the ship. She was thankful, then, that she’d only been moored for three days and the listing would have only been during high tide. She noted she’d have to check below decks later for any long term damage to the hull and their supplies.

The dock hands dragged the rear line to the end of the docks before tossing onto the stern deck of Yorith. Lexia stood behind the wheel, tilting it slightly to adjust his course to avoid high rock and silt beds she was aware of. Even in the darkness she could feel the sea calling her, leading her home again. She had no use for lighting on the deck, after spending most of her life aboard a ship, even prior to Yorith, it was a natural state for her. She tugged the rigging, letting the small square forecastle sail slip open. She knew it would be enough to get them to open seas and out of the bay of Kings Landing.

As the sun set and they slowly slipped further and further away from the lights around the harbor and other ships her eyes adjusted to the low light. It was a cloudy night and she could sense a storm coming from the East. Lex didn’t need the stars to navigate, she’d learned from a young age that her curse was a blessing in disguise. She Sea spoke to her. At least that was the best she could describe it as. She knew when it would swell, she knew when it would lay dormant. From it she knew the direction of any town, harbor or port she wished to visit, so long as it was costal.

She could tell when there were other ships near, even in the darkness with no light and no sound. It wasn’t limited to knowledge. She felt at home within the waves, even in the frigid waters of the Shivering Seas to the North of Essos. She could drink the murkiest of waters and never fall ill – despite every member of her crew becoming stomach sick. There had been rumors, not started by herself, that she could even breathe under water like a fish, that wasn’t the case but Lex never attempted to change their minds.

Lexia locked the wheel in place once Yorith was past the bay and headed on the right direction. She didn’t bother with any of large and main sails – if the storm caught up with them, as she was certain it would, the open sails would cause more grief than help. She headed down the steps to the main deck and opened the hatch below, pausing and wincing as she adjusted to the light. Blinking then keeping a single eye closed, she stepped down below deck and pulled the hatch closed behind her, intent on checking for damage, their supplies and how the cargo and passengers were settling in.

Crono Safton Midrick Archon sitanomoto General_warNpeace