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SotBD - The Hunt for Lady Bloodthorn Act II; The Iron Islands
Topic Started: Feb 10 2014, 00:16 (380 Views)
Hella Bella
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The saga continues...


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SotBD War Log - Day 18


Lady Quartermaine has taken quite ill, it seems that Great Wyk Oysters disagree with her fragile composition. Lady Stormcloud, of the Knights Of The Winter Rose, has seen to her recovery aboard her small frigate bound for Harlaw.

Sister Lilium has stolen the parchment from Lord Timoney's study, along with several other artifacts that may help us to discover who this Maester Vodder is and what his true intentions may be.

I will be going with our Witch Ciri to Blackhaven and Lord Mervyn Trant .. the key has a lock .. and I will find it or die trying.

A renewed energy of determination surges through the Sisters. The raven from Payne has reignited the fires of vengeance! We prepare for a War of both blood .. and magic.
Edited by Jon The Baptist, Feb 19 2014, 09:47.
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The salt air did nothing for Lord Jon, It burned his scabby wound and that did nothing for him at all. Orkwood seemed to be in good humor, he was handing out sweets to the children around the port. Made from boiling honey and other sugars, the mixture would cool and harden and then the pieces would be broken apart into smaller pieces.

Lord Jon looked around, Great Wyk the largest of the Iron Islands also meant the most infested with Ironborn. Jon walked over to Orkwood who was now speaking to a woman dressed in boiled leather. There was a long axe hanging at her hips, one side was slightly chipped where the blade had seen bitter action.

Orkwood was asking about a lady warrior that had recently arrived to great Wyk, the woman shook her head. Her bosom was ample and moved along with her head, when she smiled however, she tried to keep her lips closed, she was missing a tooth or two.
She told Orkwood that she didn’t know the warrior lady, but if we followed her back to her ship the captain may have more information.

Jon nodded to Orkwood, this was as good a place to start as any. They began their walk to the far end of the port where a longship stood waiting. The wood seemed to have been hardened by fire, black in most places it did not look like any other ship. Fifteen oars on each side, the top part of the sail was white while the lower half blue. Two men where sewed into the sail, one holding the others head down into the blue part as if he were drowning him.

The men aboard the ship were unloading crates onto the shore, there were thirty at least, if the oars told you anything. The Captain stood by the helm watching Jon and Orkwood’s approach, he was not smiling. The captain jumped onto the shore and made his way to the female accompanying Jon and Orkwood. He grabbed her by the hair and shoved her towards the ship.

He took two daggers from his belt and held them at his sides, He confronted Orkwood about his business with the woman and his ship. Jon made a motion to open his mouth, but the look from Orkwood made him reconsider. Jon listened to Orkwood spin his salt and was relieved when the captain but his daggers away and began the short walk back to the ship.

“ We should go no further Jon, these Ironborn are restless and on their way to reave along the shores of the Westerlands. We should not bring your alliance into this matter, we did get information of a certain lady warrior on her way to Harlaw. The captain recognizes my name and my past, but can not stop his men from giving us to the Drowned God if they found out you just came from the Wolf War in The Westerlands. Let us find a smaller ship to Harlaw and end this business once and for all.”

Jon had much to consider before leaving for Harlaw, so far this journey had been very difficult, he had been attacked without cause once already at Pink Maiden and suffered a wound. Now faced with the hostilities of the Iron Islands, The angry weather of the so called Drowned God and the mystery surrounding the missing leader Lady Bloodthorn. Yes, Jon had a bad feeling and a good nights rest on solid land would perhaps serve for a clearer train of thought.

***

The next morning was a pleasant surprise, Lord Jon had slept longer than intended and awoke to find a barely dressed woman staring at him.

“ Master Orkwood sent me milord, he said I should provide your soul with some healin”

Lord Jon was surely a Devout servant of The Seven, he smiled and sent the girl on her way. Jon was no admirer of the Ironborn or its women and would hardly let one lay a finger on his body, lest their reputation follow and he end up with a dagger through his back. He got dressed and stepped outside the the inn they found last night.

The fogged lingered so thick that one could hardly see more than what was directly in front of them. The nights rest did clear Jon’s mind, but now this fog seemed to be a direct contradiction to what Jon would now consider a clearer path.

Orkwood found Jon and told him he found a ship to take them to Harlaw, the fog would make it difficult but it could be done. The alternative was to wait, but the way things were going there was no time to waste. They boarded the vessel and began the voyage to Harlaw. The pace was slow, but there was something sinister about the fog, the wind was against them, blowing back, pushing back against the ship. It would whip around your head and leave the wetness of the fog to stick to your face.

Lord Jon stood at the railing next to Orkwood, his current talk about why Jon had sent the girl away was chipping away at Jon’s patience. The sound of laughter was very faint, lost in the wind, lost in the fog, lost to Jon’s ears if not very careful. Jon Said,

“Orkwood is there a woman on board? I didn’t see one when boarding.” A crew member overheard Lord Jon asking and said, “ That’d be the Lost Lady, many a times can she be heard laughing when peril is close by.” A hush from the rest of the crew could now be heard. They were all listening for the Lost Lady.

Jon asked who was the Lost Lady and Orkwood told the story.

“Long ago, so long ago that no one remembers the house, a noble lady from The South was sent to join a great house in the Iron Islands. The joining of these houses promised an accord of peace, but no longer than just arriving to the Iron Islands the ship the lady was on was attacked by another great house of the Iron Islands. A fog had crept in and given the thieves a great cover, these Ironborn felt a great slight on their house and were going to rob the ship of its lady and rob her of her maidenhead. Instead of being taken alive she threw herself into the sea. It is said that on foggy days she could be heard laughing, but only by someone that that would bring great danger to the voyage.
The person that hears her is usually thrown overboard. . “



Everyone was looking at Lord Jon. .
Edited by Jon The Baptist, Feb 21 2014, 09:22.
"it was as if I had been cut adrift from the tide of life and left to float in still, dark waters."
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Jon The Baptist
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The Ironborn raiders were already on board. They had gotten around and positioned themselves to kill as many as they needed. This Orkwood was spinning his salt about the lost lady and held everyone’s attention just like they planned. The poor were poor because they would not take means to better themselves, the poor were dumb and they would never suspect this plan. The leader of these raiders was Artis The Drowned Devine. He had been drowned several times and with each tale he drowned more and more so it is said that no one knows exactly anymore.

Orkwood finished his tale and with all eyes on The Good Lord Jon he raised his arms and Shouted: “You will all die today, by the will of the Drowned God, by the will of The Seven, you will return from whence you came!” The first arrow whizzed through the mist and took a crew member through the chest. Arrows rained through the fog and made their way into men’s hearts, lungs, throats and one even made an eye slip from its socket.

Artis The Drowned Devine commanded his raiders forward and took the rest of the crew easily. But he was no observer of any kind of surrender. He bore his ice axe into the first man he saw. His victims eyes rolled to the back of his head and bit off his own tongue from the force of the axe entering his skull. Artis roared with pleasure , with his axe in place, he took his dagger and stuffed it into the man’s belly. He drove the blade up through the man’s chest, his blood all over Artis’s hands.

By this time the toothless woman and captain were visible from the deck of their ship. Lord Jon had drawn his sword and when he saw the first raider began to move towards him. You don’t need teeth to laugh he thought. Orkwood yelled STOP! STOP! The raider charged Jon, but he side stepped and with the grace of The Warrior stepped into the man. His sword found its way through the mans jaw and split it in two and then pierced the mans chest.

Orkwood threw himself on Jon and wrestled with him, “What are you doing Orkwood?!”Said Lord Jon

“Listen to me!! The voyage to Harlaw is paved with blood! Ours or their’s!!!” said Orkwood



*The Warrior, patron of battles and soldiers, is portrayed wielding a sword. Faithful worshipers of the new gods will beseech him for victory in war or courage in battle.*[/color]
"it was as if I had been cut adrift from the tide of life and left to float in still, dark waters."
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Myrii
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The old woman opened her eyes and glanced about her in the darkness of the hold. Crates of silk from Lys, casks of wine from Dorne, barrels and boxes with contents known only to the ship’s captain were shadowy outlines around her. She grunted and stretched, then saw two points of silver in the shadows. “He’s still acting the fool, isn’t he, Thunder?” The cat growled softly in response. The woman chuckled softly, “At least he had the sense to turn away that toothless alley cat.”

She stretched again, and pushed herself to her feet. “Trying to hurry through fog, though,” she said in irritation as she shuffled to the ladder. “The fool can’t even understand that fog means no wind and no visibility, so no speed. Putting a ‘Ser’ in front of your name don’t make you a sailor, and don’t get you to Harlaw any faster.” The cat growled in agreement, and leapt from cask to crate and through the hatch to the deck above.

The crew took no notice as the old woman pulled herself through the hatch and stood on deck. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back, letting her senses take in the sounds and smells of land and sea and fog, while slaves brought the last of the cargo and provisions on board. After a few moments, Thunder butted his head against her calf. The woman glanced at the two sailors preparing to secure the gangplank. The sailors looked at each other, suddenly remembering another duty to attend, and left the gangplank where it was.

The cat yowled as he and the woman made their way to the dock, both of them blending into the grey mist that shrouded the port. “Raiders? Aboard the Black Dream?” She shook her head. “The boy draws trouble like a corpse draws maggots. But his time is yet to come; he’ll not be greeted by the gods today, no matter how hard he tries to do himself in. And what else did you see while I slept?”
Old age and treachery will always overcome youth and skill.
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Jon The Baptist
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The journey to Harlaw was to become smooth sailing from here or so Orkwood would have had Jon believe. The ragged raiders and the poor sailors came together easy enough once the rum was flowing.Lord Jon and Maester Orkwood would be at Harlaw in less than a fortnight. Much less if the gods were with them, which gods? thought Lord Jon. . .which gods indeed.

Orkwood had negotiated terms for a safe trip to Harlaw, He and Jon were to cause distraction and  the raiders would attack and take the ship. What was out of place was the purpose the raiders had in taking this ship. An immediate search had begun once the raiders captain Artis had control of things. Jon disliked this captain and had the feeling that one day their swords would touch and the flames of steel would burn brightly once again. The plan had been kept from him to spare him his honor. But once he heard that Lord Jon felt a great fault for the lives of the lost men.

The captains quarters were beyond the common room, one would have to weave through the men drinking and dancing the finger dance. When he entered he saw men sitting at the long tables talking about raids and pillages of earlier times. At least the sailors felt at ease now, they sat next to the raiders. Mouths drooling over coin in their dicing game. A group of men deep in their cups, spotted Jon, one got up and called to Jon: “Milord o silk, fancy o cup o wine?” Jon wasn’t wearing any silk though . . . He raised his hand to decline and began walking to the door that opened to a stairwell leading down to the captains chamber.
But the drunken sailor was not satisfied.

He said ”I axed you a question Lord o silk! he made to grab Jon’s surcoat, but he tripped and fell. Jon helped him up, but the sailor saw red. He shook off Jon’s hands and went for his throat. Jon recalled his training, and simply stepped slightly to the side, he grabbed the man by the shoulders and made as if to hug him. He brought the mans upper half down while raising his knee into the mans stomach. Through the door to the common room walked: Artis the Drowned Devine, Maester Orkwood and two dangerous looking raiders. They were officers, high ranking and dangerous looking.

One man, older, had a long grey beard and wide shoulders. He was missing an ear but his eyes were pure grey steel. He carried a long axe on his back. A two handed weapon, half the size of a man. One end was curved the other end jagged like teeth made of steel. It smiled, well it looked like it smiled . . . Lord Jon didn’t actually want to get close enough to see it smile.

Artis greeted Jon ”Jon, you’ve made it just in time to join the search. We’re on the way to the storage compartment. and if I am right we’re going to find our guest, or should I say your guest.” Artis was looking for trouble, but there would be no fight here, The Mother would not let anymore die here on this ship...

The group walked towards the storage area below deck. The bastard sword at Artis’s hip was swaying as he walked. Jon moved to the front of the group and stopped their progress, he said: ”Before we go any further, I’d like to know what we’re looking for” he said with outmost confidence. The look on Artis’s face grew grave and a shadow seem to cast over his face,” You don’t give commands here me lord”He said the last part with a sarcastic tone. “while on me ship we do what I say. But i’ll tell ye anyway, being that i’m in such a good mood an all. Tha cap’n of the sailors is on board, he is hiding somewhere and me raiders say they heard noises in the storage room. When we find em, you will kill him and earn your passage to Harlaw.”

Jon laughed, he said: ” And why must he die? We are all children of The Mother. Let us do away with this useless killing lest the crone decide to darken our path and end all our lives”

Artis held firm belief in The Drowned God, and would not be swayed by an old crone and this mother. Yet the words that came from Jon held conviction, he wanted to believe Jon and ask him more, but he shook the thoughts away. Jon finished, “Once on Harlaw, we will reward you with coin. Or, I can strike you down right now.”

The raiders in the group seemed to snap to attention. They quickly drew their weapons even though Jon’s sword was still in it’s sheath. They were at the ready, but something about Jon made them wait before trying to strike him down. Artis shook his head ”today is not your day Lord Jon. There are three of us and one of you, Orkwood will not interfere.” Three against one . . .Jon had heard that all too often as of late. He smiled, Your mates may strike me down, but not before I give your life to The Stranger.

Artis considered, something about Jon just seemed radiate strength and determination. Artis nodded to Jon and told his guards to leave. With dumbfounded looks the guards so used to following orders, left the company.Artis acquiesced to Jon, once they were in private. 100,000 Stags and fifty gold dragons would be the price of the passage. The Seven were watching over him, Jon believed that to a fault. Jon would act with this belief until one day, it would lead to his death.

***

No one could be seen when the ship docked. The landing that had been created was small, made for quick drops under the cover of night. The wooden planks creaked and groaned as the men walked over them. Jon took the step down off the planks onto the shore, the voyage to Harlaw so seemed to be now a distant memory. He must push on and find Freya.

Where to start thought Jon. His first guess would be to find Megga at Ten Towers since that’s what he would do if he had taken Freya’s position had he come to Harlaw. He had made good on his promise to the raiders and Artis. Having their coin and satisfied they had left shortly after he and Orkwood had left the ship. His friend was leading the way to an inn where they could rest for the rest of the night.

”Jon, our goal seems as dark as this night. I do not think The Sister will find their leader alive. They are seeking revenge for what they know will be her death and they will drag down anyone foolish enough to help them.”
“You know my interest in this, there must be vengeance.”
“Your crusade for vengeance seems a lot like revenge. Their death will not bring your sister back to life.”

Jon sighed, no it would not bring back his sister, but he could rid Westeros of this active alliance of black maesters.

Both men walked in silence thinking about where this journey would lead. There was no doubt in Jon’s mind that his duty would take him far from the peace he desired. But it was not peace that everyone around him saw, but a man followed closely by a specter of death. That specter laughing and collecting the fallen men that Jon had removed the breath of life.

The inside of the inn was mostly empty with only one guest sitting and eating at a table. The table seemed to be a little too close to the fire crackling in the hearth. The traveler nodded to the newcomers and continued his meal.
”Welcome to The Hurried Pigs me lords, name is Welfric. How about some ale while we get the rooms ready?”
“Two flagons Welfric, darkest ale you have. And we need something to eat”
“Aye, we have roast pig of course”

Welfric threw his head back and laughed, he patted Orkwood on the shoulder with force. ”Have a seat me lads, I’ll have Merith bring ye out the food when It’s ready.” he handed Jon and Orkwood the two flagons of ale. They sat down and Jon took a long drink of the ale. It was strongly roasted with notes of plums and figs and was so thick it could almost be chewed.

The meal was laid out before them. The pig had been roasted in honey and garlic, a plate of buttered turnips and carrots was laid out before them. They began talking about old times at first laughing harder with every story and every drink. Finally the subject came back around to The Sisters’ search for their missing leader. Jon needed to find out more about where and what Freya was doing. He would pray to The Seven that somehow some insight would manifest. Jon spoke:
”When we get to ten towers I will have a raven sent to Bella. We will assist in whatever way we can with the sister Quartermine and then escort Freya back to our camps in The Crownlands then The Reach.”
Orkwood’s eyebrows sprung up at the mention of Bellaerys, and he had to cough to clear his throat.









"it was as if I had been cut adrift from the tide of life and left to float in still, dark waters."
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Henly-Hill
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The Web-Spinner opened his eyes slowly, waking to the cawing of ravens. A vivid dream, brought on by a subtle mix of milk of the poppy, nightshade, and a single drop of mercury, still ran rampant in his mind.

"The Iron Born?" "Harlow." "Lady Bloodthorn?" "What does this all mean Balthazar?"

The molted raven croakes back. A sickly wet noise, uncomfortable to the stomach.

"Yes Balthazar I know yes." "Still, I must figure out what will come of this. And what has already been decided. It does not bode well for a man of many faces such as myself to be long idle. I will sort this out one way or another, even if it seems I have slipped in the middle of a story still spinning"

The Web-Spinner quickly draws a sheet of parchment, and begins to scribble frantically.

"My old companions, the time has come for me to enter the story once again. The question is not yet clear for me, so I have no answers. Give me some time and I will ask it. For now, beware the scent of winter.

Summer Falls At Noon
Leaving Behind Necrosis
Stench Of Days Gone By


-Henly once again"

"It is done Balthazar, Now I must wait for an answer. Go, and fly to those whom you once knew."

The shutter slowly swings closed and the room once again is filled with shadowed. The Web-Spinner stokes the dying fire, staring deeply into the ashes.
Edited by Henly-Hill, Mar 21 2014, 12:19.
"Who knows what you have spoken to the darkness, alone, in the bitter watches of the night? I do."
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Merianne
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The old septa came to Merianne in her cell to tell her that she had a visitor. Reluctantly, she went. She was surprised to see her former Maester Robin, holding a small scroll in his hand.

"Robin, what are you doing here? You know that I want nothing more to do with the world. I am content here."

"I'm sorry, milady [Merianne cringed a bit at this form of address], but a raven arrived with a message for you that I thought you should read for yourself."

She held out her hand for the message. Unrolling the parchment, she read the cryptic message from the Web-Spinner.

"Thank you, Robin, you did right. Please wait while I write an answer."

Shortly, Merianne returned and handed Robin her reply. Maester Robin bowed and left, to send one of his ravens to Henly.

Merianne's message:
"My old friend, I have received your message with joy. However, I must regrettably inform you that I have retired from public life forever. After setting out in response to the signal message of 'Promise Me', I found that I no longer had the heart to be strong in the face of danger and bloodshed. If you should perchance speak to Bella and Jon, tell them that it was indeed I at the inn in Pinkmaiden. After what happened there, I could not go on. I returned to my keep and from thence to the sept. Tell the Knights of the Winter Rose that I can not keep my promise. I hope that they can forgive me.

I live in seclusion and prayer. You will not hear from me again.

Yours,
Septa Merianne, the former Lady Merianne Tremond the Sincere"


[thus ends the story of Lady Merianne Tremond the Sincere]
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Henly-Hill
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"Troubling news Balthazar, it seems one of our old acquaintances has shut out the world." "However I must forward this message to Jon, he seemed to be on an important journey in my dream."

The Web-Spinner quickly makes several copies of the letter from Tremond. He ties the parchment scrolls onto the molted Raven Balthazar and two others. He urges the Ravens to fly quickly to The Knight, The Crone, and the Leader. Viable through the window is a recently prepared wagon ready for the road. Stockpiled with pleanty of provisions there is also a segment covered by a dark grey cloth. The Spinner looks out upon the courtyard smiling. Slowly the skin slithers and melts about his face and the visage of the young man vanishes. In it's place stands a grey haired man, appearing to be the age of thirty four, the only features that remain from the past body is a long white scar running down his right ear and cheek, and sickly, pale grey-white eyes.

"Yes Balthazar my time as Henly has returned. Now we shall go see what has become of our parted alliance. The time of waiting is over. It is time for us to go to Harlow."
"Who knows what you have spoken to the darkness, alone, in the bitter watches of the night? I do."
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Jon The Baptist
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His fingers brushed against the side of his face. Caressing the greyscale, as if it gave him more of slight against man. He looked across the table to the sellsword, taking in the the menace in demeanor.
”So we have an agreement?” The words slithered out of the robed man’s mouth in a soft yet scratchy tone.

The sellswords arms were crossed, his lips were pursed and his eyes vigilant to his surroundings. He was an ugly man, his nose flat and dark circles under his eyes. He looked at the parchment in his hand, it read:

Freya Stormcloud - Death - 100 Gold Dragons
Henly Hill - Death - 50 Gold Dragons
Megga Harlaw - Death - 50 Gold Dragons

The robed man spoke again “ They have more members, but these are the three we need to deal with immediately. He began to cough, spittle flew, but he did dab with a cloth at his purple lips. A warning, if you find Jon the Devout, do not harm him too much. I want him brought back alive, I have special plans for him.

The sellsword left the table and sent two men to the Iron Islands. Two more men at arms were sent to the Reach after Henly Hill.
"it was as if I had been cut adrift from the tide of life and left to float in still, dark waters."
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