Westeros and Essos {Game of Thrones Roleplay} discussion
House Dayne
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Starfall
Mod
And note, we will be discussing nothing involving the Lannisters, Baratheons, or events in King's Landing (unless you care to slander any of the above parties, in which case, I always have a good ear!). We support the one true king of the Realm, and shall continue to do so. :)
(Until the day comes that a Dornish man or woman again sits the Iron Throne. Then all outstanding debts shall be settled... with a vengeance!)
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Only this time, she didn't have any clue where she was headed. Sybil was lost, and afraid to admit it. "A Baratheon high born in the middle of no where." she said quietly with a lump in her throat "This is going to be the end of me."
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How did they know me? She didn't know whether she could trust anyone from here.
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Even so, Yres knew that he must proceed carefully, and be prepared to assist his Lord accordingly. Until such time as they determined what House Baratheon's game was, no ill fate could befall the lady Sybil.
"Lord Edric is currently busy with matters of state. Otherwise he would be here to greet my lady in person. Perhaps my lady would enjoy some refreshment and a chance to rest her feet? Your horse shall be stabled and fed, of course."
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"Even if I am lying, Why should I have explain myself to you?" Sybil said very low. So low she knew he couldnt have heard. Or so she hoped.
"Im quite alright." Sybil said to him "I dont think Ill be hanging around these parts any longer than I have to. Please to meet you, Lord, uhm, Sorry I never got your name (But you seem to know mine)."
Sybil turned and walked toward her horse. She stopped. "I have nothing. Ill never make it passed the night..."
Sybil turned and sighed "As a matter of fact, Lord Unknown, Ill take you up on your request."
"Whats the worst that could happen?" She thought....
((Sorry for any spelling errors. Typing from a tiny touchscreen keyboard will be the death of me!))
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His smile faded as he eyed the state of her clothing and the expression she wore. If her presence was part of a ruse, it was a very carefully crafted one. Perhaps one she was not even aware of.
"Lord Edric will attend to you as soon as possible. In the meantime, I shall ladies in waiting prepare a bath and some food. And perhaps my lady would like something fresh to wear? Your clothes look somewhat damp."
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"Lord..I mean, SER Yres, Never once have I ever been present here in the lands of Dorne. And surely it's been a quite a long while since anyone I even have the acquaintance of knowing has as well. So, tell me, Ser Yres, how did you and your people even have the slightest clue on who I am.. Especially.." Sybil looked down and motioned to her apparel "..looking like this? Quite curious, isn't it? Anyway, I shan't meet with Lord Edric. I have nothing to discuss with him. The clothes, though. I'll gladly accept the clothes."
By this point, Sybil had most of her walls up. Her face was expressionless. The one thing that gave any indication of her uncertainty to the whole ordeal was the chewing of her finger nails.
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"Lady Sybil, why do you ask such questions? Our guards needed only to see your eyes, your hair, and your fair skin to know that you were the child of Stannis Baratheon. And your smile, though I have yet to see it, is also well known." He looked to her worn clothing, and smiled again. "No amount of clothing, regardless how ostentatious or tattered, can conceal one's true nature. You learn such things living here in Dorne."
He allowed for a brief moment of silence, then ushered a retainer forward who had been waiting in the shadows.
"If you are not to meet with Lord Edric, then shall I dispatch a raven to your father, and let him know of your whereabouts? I'm sure he and your mother are quite worried."
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Sybil was shunned. The "hissy ploy" usually worked on everyone. The only people it hasn't worked on was her father, and well, now Yres. "You remind me of my father. Wait. This is a trick, isn't it? I've been set up by you ...and my father! Was it you who had me detour all the way here also? What is this trickery?! What have I done now?!"
Sybil looked away. She knew she was just making up excuses just to understand this man whom she'd just met. If she continued, she would be digging a deeper hole for herself. "My apologies." she said still looking at the ground. "In my defense, you couldn't have expected me to just greet you with open arms. I don't know you, and you don't know me. And well, You're a bit giving to someone you don't know. I'll meet with Lord Edric, if that's what to please you."
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Yres clapped his hands and a number of women appeared, all wearing dresses of blue and white and cowls that covered their hair. They came to Sybils side and stood their, heads bowed and patiently waiting to be told what to do.
"I shall meet with our Lord and discuss how we may find a way to get you home. He would surely love it if you met with him to break his fast in the morning. Shall we say, nine bells, or would you prefer to sleep late?"
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Sybil planned on sleeping with an eye open this night.
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"Go wake up the Steward, Lothan, immediately," he ordered. "He'll want to know of all that has happened here. Tell him I wish to speak with him, and prepare a raven to be dispatched to Sunspear. The Steward will have a message for Lord Martell as soon as we're finished."
"Yes, Ser Yres," he said obediently. "Shall I wake Lord Edric as well?"
"No need," he replied. "His lordship will be informed of everything he needs to know on the morrow. In the meantime, we must make sure Lady Sybil is kept safe."
"Safe, Ser?" asked the retainer. "Is she in danger?"
"Unless I miss my guess," Yres said with a nod. "But not from us..."
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"I don't ask for much, really. In fact, I don't need anything from you at all." She said gleaming over at each of the women. "Maybe just.. a couple of.. answers?" It was as if she wasn't speaking at all. The women went about their business getting her things in order. "Might as well just get to the point, huh?" Sybil gave a small false laugh. "Is Lord Edric to be trusted?"
No one answered Sybil's question. One of the women briefly glanced over her shoulder, looking in Sybil's direction. She didn't say a word, and she didn't have to.
I think I'm the enemy here.
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(Gasp! A Targaryen??? This could only make things especially juicy! I'm game, I just ask that you wait for my next post, which will be Yres talking to the house steward and revealing what HE thinks is going on...)
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"Ser Yres, what is the meaning of this? You have me woken because of a damn visitor?!"
"Not just any visitor, my lord," Yres said from his seat, next to the head of the council table. He pushed forward a flagon of water, which the chambermaids had been sure to provide. Lothan saw the gesture and sat at the head of the table, pouring himself a cup and asking:
"Who is it, then? Your messenger did not say." He eyed the retainer who now stood in the corner of the room quite angrily before taking a long draft.
"I regret to inform you that it is none other than Lady Sybil Baratheon, my lord. The daughter of Stannish Baratheon."
Lothan choked as he drank and set the cup down. Several coughs were needed before he could speak again.
"Lady Sybil..." he uttered. "She is here, in our domain?"
"Yes, my lord," Yres replied calmly.
"Did she say why she was here?"
Yres folded his hands before him on the table. Ser Arthur had always taught him that in the course of conveying bad news, it was best not to fidget. The hands gave you away, you always said.
"Apparently, the young Lady got lost while in the course of making her way home. Her retinue appears to have taken a wrong turn and ended up in our court."
Lothan looked at him incredulously, and said nothing. Several moments appeared to pass before he could answer; at which point, he began laughing heartily.
"The daughter of Stannish Baratheon, the challenger to the throne, ends up in Dorne, and all she can offer as an explanation is that her retinue took a WRONG TURN?"
"That seems to be her explanation, my lord. She was quite unhappy on that point as well."
Lothan appeared incredulous again, and began to look past Yres into the distance. His eyes, now robbed of their sleepy, sedate quality, now burned intently with notions of conspiracy and intrigue.
"She is here to entreat with Lord Edric," he whispered finally, with a raised finger. "Yes, her father is seeking the allegiance of Dornishmen and she is here to entreat with Lord Edric. He knows that his campaign against the Lannisters cannot succeed without fresh allies and he's seeking to find them here."
Lothan clapped his hands together, his conclusion having animated him greatly. He stood for him chair and began pacing the room, at once congratulating himself for having seen through this most-obvious plot, then pausing to scorn himself for not sensing it sooner. Yres stood and moved to his side as he paced, hoping to catch him between sentences.
"Lord Lothan, I would be inclined to agree. Her presence here must be seen as part of a larger plot. However, I do not think she is a willing participant in it."
Lothan stopped suddenly and turned around. The old look of incredulity was back on his tired features. In the face of such a claim, he could only sigh.
"And what does that mean?"
"It means, my lord. That I believe she was diverted here as part of a larger plot. I believe someone in her retinue chose to deliver here against her father's wishes."
Lothan ran a hand over his face and rubbed his eyes. The realization that he would have to be awake and alert longer was not a welcome one.
"And why would that be?"
Yres smiled. He understood that as Steward, Lothan could not help but interpret his insistence as impertinence. He knew he had to proceed carefully, and if necessary, allow the Lord to think that what he was suggesting to him was his own idea. Arthur had taught him as much as well.
"My Lord, you were absolutely correct in believing that this is about the state of the Realm. It is common knowledge that Stannish has sent members of his court, such as the former smuggler Seaworth, out to entreat with houses to join his cause. But I have met with the young lady, and I have seen in her eyes that she knows nothing of any plots to enlist noble houses to her father. She is a frightened woman, and does not know for the life of her why she would find herself here in our company." Lothan returned his smile. Perhaps he thought Yres was naive for trusting in her appearances. Perhaps he thought him foolish for speaking to him thusly. But he appeared to have his attention, so he continued. "It is well known that the Lannisters are in a tenuous position, and fear that Stannis may yet threaten them. I think we should consider that the plot here comes not from Dragonstone, but from King's Landing."
Lothan stopped smiling. The mere mention of the name "Lannister" was known to have that effect in Starfall.
"Explain," he demanded.
"My Lord, the Lannisters know, as surely as we do, that Stannis is desperate to find allies. They know that there actions in the war have stirred up much resentment from various houses, and that the Dornishmen still resent them for their involvement in Robert's Rebellion. If something were to happen to the daughter of House Baratheon, Stannis would be unable to find any allies here."
Lothan's eyes narrowed. Despite the effects of fatigue and plenty of wine, he understood perfectly.
"I see..." he whispered. "So the Lannisters ensure she arrives here, and then make sure that something does happen to her while she is in our care. Knowing full well that Stannis would attribute any harm to House Dayne." Lothan nodded several times, allowing the full weight of it to sink in. "Stannis would be outraged and accuse us of bloody murder. And our denials would only enrage him further."
"And the ones who benefit the most," Yres concluded, "are the ones who sent to us."
Lothan began to laugh again. His hand went to his stomach, which was heaving mightily from the effort. "Such cunning and ruthlessness; I would be a fool not to smell the hand of Tywin Lannister in it. Yes, Ser Yres, I believe you have the right of it. The poor lady is nothing more than a pawn in that bastard's game."
Yres shook his head. "It's a game he's playing a long time. We cannot fault ourselves for seeing the move in advance. All we can do now is ensure that it does not come to fruition."
"In which case, we must ensure that nothing bad happens to Lady Sybil. And that she does not leave here too quickly."
Yres felt suddenly uncertain. While he understood Lothan's meaning, he also remembered just how anxious the young lady had appeared to be in their company. That aspect of their plan to foil this latest plot of the Lannisters would prove to be... difficult. But after all the direction and advice he had given his lordship on this evening, he felt that this was one aspect he could keep to himself... for now.
"Is the lady under your guard?" Lothan asked.
"Yes, my lord. I have assigned several of our best blademaidens to her side. She believes them to be ladies in waiting, but she will soon find that if a sellsword or assassin tries to sneak in through her window, that she is well protected."
"Excellent," Lothan said tiredly, the end of their meeting having finally come. "I shall inform his lordship on the morrow. I trust she is going to break her fast with him then?" Yres replied in the affirmative. "Good. Then it shall be the first thing to grace his ears. Good work, Ser Yres. I can see we made the right choice in entrusting Lord Edric's security to your person."
Yres bowed. "I am honored, my lord."
(Very Interesting, a lot of possibilities here)
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In the complete darkness, Sybil eased her way out of bed. She walked over to the ajar window, and pulled it open completely. She studied her view, but it wasn't Starfall she was gazing upon. It was what was beyond. Her eyes where fixed on what she couldn't see passed Starfall. She thought of her family back home. She thought of her father and wondered whether he knows of her presence here at Starfall. Had Yres gone out of his word and sent the raven to her father anyway? Sybil secretly hoped he had. She secretly hoped her father would be here in the morrow to get her out of this situation. Anything to spare another night alone surrounded by strangers. Sybil closed her eyes. She knew it wasn't possible. Even her father would come to "rescue her", in a fortnight he'd still be half way away.
Sybil stood standing there, eyes closed, taking in the warm wind from the middle of the night. But she instantly had a strange feeling come upon. She felt eyes on her. She looked over her shoulder expecting to see someone there looking back at her. No one. She scanned outside the window, looking for anyone to pinpoint her uneasy feeling, but failed. She quickly closed the window shut, and walked towards the door. She needed to get out. She reached out to pull it open, but before she could place her palm on the door, she stopped herself. Pull yourself together, young one. Outside of this room, there is no safe place. Said her voice within.
She dragged herself back to her bed and shut her eyes. "I am meeting with Lord Edric soon." She said to herself. "And I am going to remind him who's daughter I am."
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Of note was the fish stew that the cooks had managed to flavor with their meager supplies of rosemary and some Arbor Gold, as well as some honeycakes with butter and some cold cuts of meat. And of course, a large pot of wildflower tea to wash it all down. Yres hoped that the lady would prove to be as temperate as he father, who differed from her uncle considerably in that respect.
Sitting in his chair, Edric drew several breaths as he waited. Despite his stolid outward appearance, a small ember had been planted within him on that morn. And if he was forced to wait much longer, the ember was likely to catch and become a smouldering fire. Whether or not it became a raging inferno depended on the next hour or so going smoothly.
"Why do they task us so, these stupid lions?" he said aloud. "Is it not enough that they murder the king and the bring House Stark to ruin? They must infect my household with their pestilence as well?"
"Such is the way of Lannisters," said Lothal, seated by his right hand. "They rely on deceit and trickery in place of courage and cunning. But we shall not be played, my lord. I promise you."
Standing behind him, Yres stood and watched the door to the chamber. He suppressed a smile and tried not to appear overly proud of how Edric behaved on this morn. The young lord had received their full council earlier, and had taken the news rather well. And now, he waited to dispense justice and apprise his unknowing ally of their plan.
Rather than appear frightened or overly vengeful, reactions befitting an infant, he appeared firm and righteous - qualities befitting a good lord.
At the far end of the room, the door opened with a creak. A woman dressed as a lady-in-waiting entered, but one whose knowing eyes identified her as court agent.
"My Lord, the Lady Sybil Baratheon is here to break her fast with you."
Edric raised his hand and waved her on. "Bring her to me."
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One of the women brought in a replacement dress. Sybil hadn't asked for it, nor did she ask where it came or whom it belonged to. The ladies must have seen her the clothing she arrived in and had this new dress ready for when she woke. And for that she was grateful.
She studied the piece of clothing while the woman held it up. I'm sleeping among them. Now it's assumed I want to look like them. Sybil exhaled. "Very well. It'll do....Thank you." She muttered. Not a word in return from any of the women. And it would remain that way.
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Sybil was escorted into the room where she would share her presence with Lord Edric. "Lord Edric." Sybil greeted with a bow. She seated herself at the table, opposite to the Lord. On the table was food that Sybil would have once been excited for, but on this day she lacked an appetite. She glance over to Lord Edric. It was difficult to read his face. He was expressionless. Sybil glanced back down to her plate and shrunk in her seat feeling inferior.
The courageousness she once developed in her chamber had vanished. One wouldn't be able to tell she was the daughter of Stannis had they not already known. It was all quickly going downhill in Sybil's mind. She couldn't get a single word out to break the silence.
Lethargically, She proceeded to her meal to avoid insulting the man. Sybil gave a small smirk at an attempt to hid her nervousness.
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He then looked to Lothan, who in turn fixed Sybil with a steely glare. After watching her spoon several mouthfuls of soup into her mouth, he passed a glance to Yres. All three men now appeared to be in the same conspiratorial circle, sharing a thought that Sybil could not share.
And then, Yres nodded to the retainers and ladies in waiting who stood around the room. With that gesture, they immediately departed, their footfalls echoing in the nearby halls for several seconds before the sound of doors closing announced their departure. It was only then that Lord Edric and the two men flanking him began to talk.
"Lady Sybil, we are honored by your presence. You look splendid this morning. I trust you are rested as well?"
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"Ive definitely had better slumbers." Sybil replied remembering her interrupted sleep earlier in the night. "But thank you allowing me to spend my night in a comfortable environment."
Sybil looked down at her lap. "I'd like to take the time to tell you personally, not your guards.." She glanced over to Yres as she spoke ".. About how very sorry I am for my sudden and unexpected arrival here. I hope you don't feel I was intruding... Or maybe worse. Unfortunately there seems to have been some miscommunication somewhere down the road. If it pleases you to hear, my Lord, I will be gone and out of your hair by sundown. I can assure you of that." She looked at him straight in the eyes to assure him how serious she was. Eye contact. It was a trick she adapted from her father.
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"I'm afraid that's not possible at this time, my lady. You see..."
His voice failed him. He looked stern enough, sitting there in the large chair in his livery and furred robes. But in this matter, the boy still held sway over the would-be man. Lothal cleared his throat, and spoke the next words rather carefully.
"You're speedy departure would not possible, as the guide within of your retinue has been arrested. The man has betrayed you, I fear. And my Lord has chosen to take you into his protective custody until this situation is resolved."
He paused to allow the words to sink in.
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"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU'VE ARREST MY MEN?! Under who's orders?! YOURS?" She looked at Lord Edric square in the eyes.
"And I suppose I'm next aren't I? You all think you've got me wrapped in your fingers to make it easier for you! All of this. Too good to be true!" she snapped as she swapped the plates on the table with her hand. The half eaten food was sent flying in the air and onto the ground. Sybil paused a moment to breathe. She looked down at the floor to hold back her tears. Perhaps, she thought, she had lowered her guard down a little too much. She almost, almost felt safe here. Sybil then retreated to the door.
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"You misunderstand, my lady. You are not my prisoner; in fact, you are under my protection." His words sounded rehearsed, but the sincerity was certainly there. "As I said, you were brought here at the behest of someone else, and we think they mean to harm you. But as long as you are in Starfall, you shall be safe. On that, you have my word."
Yres smiled gently at her, hoping that he might further impress the sincerity of these words upon her. He reached out to her with one hand and gestured to the table with the other.
"Please, shall I explain what we have learned?" said the young lord.
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"Go on then. I'm already secluded in here. It doesn't seem I have much a choice."
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When she was seated, Lord Edric continued. "My lady, when we arrested your man, I had his possessions searched. On his person was a letter that indicated he was to divert your train here, to Dorne. His orders were not more specific than that, but he also had a generous purse of Gold Dragons."
He nodded to Lothal, he produced the purse and poured its contents onto the table. A clinking pile of gold coins formed there, their shining surfaces catching the light from the brazier.
"Lannister gold," said Lothal. "Freshly minted too, from the looks of it. Our smith has tested one of the coins and insists it is from Casterly Rock."
"We can only assume it was part of a larger plan to alienate Dorne from your father," said Edric. "Placing you at our mercy was just the first step. The second..."
For reasons no one could fathom, all eyes in the room turned to Yres. Lord Edric and Lothal both appeared to want him to convey the next part.
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"How certain are you? I mean, how do I know it just wasn't one of your men who planted this?" Sybil asked glancing to the golden dragons. "I'm lying to myself." She finally admitted. "It was right in front of my eyes.. These are men I've known my entire life. I trusted them. How could they trade my life in for a few gold coins?" she said to herself, disregarding the fact that everyone can hear her thoughts out loud.
Sybil noticed the eyes shooting her direction. But it wasn't her they were looking at. She looked over the guard standing above her.
"The second what? What's the second step?" She asked Yres.
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Yres took a deep breath, his eyes becoming downcast.
"Their next step, my lady," he said carefully. "Would be to kill you. Ensuring that you die while in the custody of a Dornish house would guarantee that your father would never be able to find friends here. It would instead guarantee his wrath towards us, and force us to consider an alliance with the Lannisters."
"So, my lady," said Edric. "The obvious thing for now, then, is to make sure you stay alive."
Yres looked back at her, a thin smile creasing his lips. "Of which I will be in charge." He quickly lost it when he was forced to say the rest though. "It also means that for now, you cannot leave..."
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"This is going to be the end of me." She finally said, remembering the familiar phrase from when she first arrived at Starfall. Only this time she really meant it. I spoke too soon. Sybil looked up from the floor and muttered "I..I know I said not to, but.." She said glancing at each of the men, hoping they disregarded her orders from before "was a raven sent? A man? Anything? Does my father know of any of this?" Sybil felt ashamed "I don't think I can do this alone." She looked up over her shoulder. Die, I mean. I can't die alone. Not here.
"I know you're doing this for me to save yourselves from this mess these Lannisters love so much. I respect that. Any good leader would." She said to Lord Edric. "But what are we to do now? Seclude me from the rest of the world for the rest of my life to ensure I even have a life?" She seemed to sink in her seat.
Sybil took a moment, and it quickly came to her. "The Lannisters don't know how I look. Nor do their men! How would they know they have the right women?!" She said still speaking to Lord Edric, but her eyes turned over to Yres. "But then again, neither did your men, and I seemed to be recognized fairly quick upon arrival. I guess any attempt at a false identity is out of the question then?" Sybil's words seemed to trail.
"It's been a long morning, men."
Danik grasped the side of the ship as it ploughed through the surf, toward, the shore. Danik peered over the side, at the hull slicing through the waves, he and his men, soaked from the waves crashing against them, as the ships men, rowed furiously toward the Dornish, coast, just a sliver of moon, cast any light on the beach. Only the lights high in the towers of Starfall, showed Danik and his men their destination. The captain had anchored off the coast since this morning, hiding over the horizon baking in the sun, waiting to approach at dusk. Now was time.
Danik turned to his head of pikemen “If we’re not back by midday cast off and head back.” he said over the sound of he oars and waves. He nodded. Danik knew, he understood, he was a professional like him. The pikemen were to guard the ships with the archers. Danik knew if he wasn’t back to the ships after sun up, he wasn’t coming back. As the ship was pushed closer to shore, Danik looked at Royston by his side, who watched dumb founded at the crashing sea. Royston held out his arm “Good luck Danik.” Danik grabbed it, surprised how he’d to come to respect Royston. The ship heaved up on to the sand, the ship groaned and Danik and the whole crew shook. Danik scrambled over the side, the others following. Danik landed heavily into the surf. The water came up to his chest, as he slogged ashore. Men beside him strode through the breaking waves, as they hit the sand. Danik looked, to see Whisper climb up the ship’s prow before, leaping off, and landing gracefully onto the dry sand. Danik paused on the beach, to see over fifty men, racing across the beach, in silence.
Danik crested a dune, and collapsed to one knee in its depression, as his men collected around him. All their gazes fixed on the rise of the dune ahead, poised to attack anyone coming over the top, all held in uneasy stillness.
Excitement flowed through Danik, keeping him warm from the water’s chill. Mikael fell in beside him. Danik gaped up at the towers of Starfall, as Mikael murmured “Orders?”
Danik instinctively reached to his left and felt Whisper, thick fur in his hand as she stood attentively at his side. Out of breath he replied in a hushed tone “We find a guide.”
He took a deep breath and closed his eyes.
Danik opened his eyes into another world. Everything felt strange, alien. He felt he could smell sound, hear smells. His whole body felt the air, like if wrapped in a warm blanket. His coat of fur rippled in a breeze. He looked over to see himself, vacant in expression. Mikael watching him. Warging into Whisper, had become second nature, yet Danik still relished it. His blood seemed warmer, heart beat quicker, senses’ burning, he looked ahead and bolted off. Even now, Whisper’s speed shocked him, the light impacts as his paws flew across the sand.
He stopped suddenly and looked back. The distance covered, shocked Danik still after such a short time running. He raised his head and tasted the air; he could still make out his men’s scent, sweat, salt, steel and tension. He moved to next dune. New smells, men. Training himself, with perhaps able to share Whisper’s experiences he knew what scents meant. With men, he tasted fish, shell. Fishermen, he discarded it, he moved on. Looking across the shoreline, his vision was as clear as day, even in the pitch dark. He stopped; a smell trembled in the air across his nose, whiskers ruffled. Men, leather, fire, steel …soldiers. He raced off, following the trail, as easy if led there guided by string. He crouched, crawling low along the sand, peeping over the top of dune. Below two men, carrying spears, walking casually with one torch between them. Staying low, out of sight he closed his eyes.
Opening up, he took a big breath, sweat poured off, hands trembling. This was always the way after warging, Danik had always encountered, like he shared Whisper’s exertion. With a rasping gasp “There’s a two man watch, just across that ridge.”Mikael nodded, leaning over he looked at four men, and silently gave orders pointing over the ridge. Swords drawn, their blades darkened to diminish their shine; they took off, over the crest of the dune, sand cascading down. Mikael stood up to follow, “Just follow Whisper’s tracks Mikael” Danik said. “Remember” Danik said firmly “We need one alive.”
“Can your cat aid us?” Mikael replied. A side of Danik’s mouth cracked into a smirk, as Mikael climbed up the sandy slope. Danik inhaled, closing his eyes. Whisper had a predilection for blood.
The cave in the shadow of the cliff where Starfall stood, Danik idly used the tip of his dagger, to spin the severed fingers in circles. The Dornishman sat tied up in front of him, eyes bulging out of fear and pain, his left hand, dripping a blot of pooling blood, soaking into the sand. Four fingers lay in the sand, Mikael stood behind the guard, holding tight a thick rope across his mouth, cutting into his cheeks, as blood, sweat and tears soaked into the rope. Looking into the captive’s eyes, Danik said coolly “Again, is there a way into Starfall, unguarded?” Mikael yanked the rope, cutting deeper into the man’s face, he gave out a muffled whine “Or else we’re going to run out of fingers” Mikael finished. The rope slackened to allow the man to talk.“Go on.” pressed Danik.
“Starfall is impenetrable, it walls thick and manned by the finest men in Dorne.”
Danik was impressed by the man’s resolve, especially after losing a comrade, a severe beating and four fingers cut off. Spit ran down the man’s chin in large globs, as anger built up in his voice “Ser Yres is the best knight in the kingdom, he and Lord Dayne will hang your bodies over the walls.”
With a slight frustrated huff, Danik said “Grab his right hand.” Another sellsword holding the Dornish guard, forced his right arm out straight despite the guard’s struggling, the sellsword hit him the face, allowing him to hold his arm out. Eyes searching, Danik called out gently “Whisper.” Out of the dank of cave, through the small crowd of sellswords, Whisper weaved through. The guards eyes widen even more, he thrashed about more, rocking Mikael and the other sellsword holding him. Whisper’s shoulder blades rolling like waves on her back, Danik knew the guard had seen what Whisper could do to a man. Whisper had ripped into the guard’s companions’ face, biting into his eye before tearing into his throat. The guard heaved, panicked, rapid breaths, as his hand was placed in front of the cat’s nose. Whisper opened her mouth, fangs bright in the gloom, the guard screamed as loud as his gag would allow, Danik saw Mikael give a small snigger. Danik gave Mikael a look and the gag loosened. Garbled, through sobbing and heaving “There’s a, there’s a…outlet.” Danik smiled, many men he knew could stand up to torture, none he had witnessed, held after threatened by a snowcat. “For the Lord’s baths, the dirt water” he stuttered “to the sea.” Whisper closed her mouth, and slinked back into the cave. Mikael relaxed his hold, and the guard collapsed.
“Is it big enough to crawl through into the castle?” demanded Danik. Ashamed, not meeting his gaze, the guard gave a series of quick nods.
“Good, good.” Danik commented. Abruptly Danik’s hand shot out, clenching the guard’s face between, his fingers hard. “If you’re lying, you know what a snowcat eats first?” tapping the dagger at the guard’s groin “The soft bits. If this pipe’s too small, or not there.” pulling his face close “You’ll be watching as the cat chews on your balls.”
Danik looked up into the sky. The night gets short, he thought. His sellswords were spread out, across a small inlet, as Danik inspected the water outlet that snaked its way out of the cliffside. Sand had given way, to thick, black mud that reeked, and clung to you. Some of men, would have a tight fit, considered Danik, but big enough. Morn was not long away, Danik knew waiting too long and attacking in day would be suicide. “See I kept my word.” The guard said, still held tight by Mikael with a rope around his neck. “Thank you.” Danik said, not turning round, advancing through the mud to the mouth of the pipe. “Mikael, please.” Carrying on, Danik ignored Mikael as he heaved and tightened the rope, the Dornish guard kicking out hopelessly, trying to breathe, as Mikael twisted to rope in his fists. Danik heard a noise, like a branch snapping he knew it was the guard’s neck, and then the wet thud as the body dropped in the silt.
Peering into pitch black of the water channel, Danik contemplated his next move. Mikael moved beside him, look up into the dark. Danik felt, the side of the channel, moss, a thick coat of sludge. Mikael spoke “Its tight, dark, wet and we don’t know what’s at the other end.”
“That’s what you’re daughter said.” remarked Danik. His men crowded toward Danik he addressed them “Prepare your weapons, count to ten and then follow the man in front.” Danik squeezed himself into the dank pipe, bracing his arms and legs against the slippery walls, as he edged himself up.
The Lords baths were partially lit, by two torches, cast little light and long shadows, over the wide open room. Despite being a sizeable room, with over thirty mercenaries, it felt a little confined for Danik. But after the water outlet Danik, was happy with this extra space. The tunnel ran for longer than he’d imagined, he and his men had fell and slipped more than once. At the end, an iron sluice gate sat. It had taken Danik and Mikael together, using his sword as a pivot to lift it, and it had still crashed down breaking two of Danik’s fingers. He rubbed them, he’d had worse he remembered The sky was still clouded in night outside the bath room’s windows, Danik was a little surprised, time seemed have dragged in the confines of the tunnel, he expected dawn to be breaking. He watched his crossbowmen remove their strings from under their helmets, and unwrap the crossbows. Damp strings and dirty mechanisms were a crossbows enemy. Danik’s men used Mereenese crossbows, better than Westerosi ones, they had two strings, to fire two bolts separately, and Danik had fifteen men trained to use them here. The rest were skirmishers and maurders, carrying a mix of axes, swords and clubs, all watching the double doors in case they were interrupted, Mikael standing beside the door, broadsword at the ready. Danik’s crossbow commander sided up to Danik “Have you got a plan to find this woman?”But already Danick had closed his eyes.
North of the wall, only eagles and snowcats could reach the highest peaks. Whisper leaped from outcrop, scaling with seemingly unnatural ease, the cliffs below Starfall. When warging into Whisper, this was when he felt most untamed, climbing impossible heights. He reached where, cliff meet the castle wall. He raised his head, tasting the air; the scent of men was fading, moving away. He coiled up, and sprung up, arms outstretched. He clawed at the battlements, claws giving a slight scratch as they held, yet no one heard. Danik pulled himself up, scanning left and right along the walkways along the battlements, all he could see was the dwindling light of a torch as the guard continued his patrol away from him. Slunk close to the ground, Danik continued toward the castle. A closed door, gave little challenge, as Danik leapt above it, climbing threw a dark murder hole above it. Like silk, he flowed soundless down steps deeper into the castle. All his senses attuned for threats, and any hints of the Baratheon girl.A maid approached, he hid in the shadows, poised to strike, she carried on oblivious. The scent from further down was dirtier; he knew she would be higher, not with the servants in the castle’s bowels. Flitting in and out of the shadows, of flickering fires in the dark corridors, Danik prowled following any telltale scents, women in the main and ones that should be cleaner than the maids he imagined. Inching round corners, keeping wide berths of noises and smells of men and dogs, he turned a corner. At the end of the corridor, two guards stood, awake and alert, orange light from burning lamps cast over them. They wore armor yet smelled of women, and the scent of another beyond the door. He skulked back around the corner, cloaking himself in the shadows, he closed his eyes.
Danik opened his eyes, looked at his men. Inhaling, deeply pleased, he said simply “Found her.” He rushed up and bolted from the room, his men falling in behind.
Two maids getting washing ready, and an archer on his way to the privy, was all the resistance Danik and his men, met advancing to the room he suspected, that Lady Sybil was in. He and his men hugged the wall, pressed into the shadows. Danik peered, cautiously around the corner, he controlled his breathing slow and steady. Two women, dressed in Dornish robes and clad in light chain and leather armor, stood beside the door. Curious Danik thought, but Dorne had many women in arms. Mikael placed a hand on his, shoulder, waiting for the word. Speed was everything, unease racked Danik body, this would either write Danik in Westeros legend, or be his unceremonious grave.
He signed with his hands, for three crossbowmen, they approached steely looks etched on their faces. With his left hand he gave a count down, as his right securely held his sword. One...two…three. The three crossbowmen, vaulted out, crossbows raised. The guards, instinctively reacted, raising their shields against the threat. But it wasn’t enough, two bolts hit the shields, however, the other four hit. One guard was hit on the neck and face, blood spewing in an arc, over the wall; she collapsed in chocking to the floor. The other guard, received an arrow to the shoulder, punching through her chainmail, however it was the one through the eye that killed her. Second nature took over his sellswords. The three bowmen stepped back, using the large iron hooks, on their belts, to pull the string back, while three swords men moved ahead to protect them, another two crossbowmen took their place. If he was a lord, Danik might have been proud of them, but these were paid to be professional. Danik sprinted to the door, Mikael and another two swordsmen behind, pressing against the double door with a dull thud. Danik, coated in sweat, looked down at the guard with a bolt to her neck, she was looking up at him, blood foaming out her mouth as she tried to take breath, slowly dying.
Danik took a deep breath, and barged the door open, violently with his shoulder, the door swung open, Danik rushed in, Mikael and two crossbowmen right beside. The room was dark, no light except the outside gloom filtering in through a window. Danik scanned the room, no guards sat there, his vision focused on the bed. A young women in a nightshirt, attractive, bolted upright, Danik could see she immediately grasped the situation, he watched the color draining from her face, as she was overwhelmed by the situation. Danik leapt unto the bed, and clamped his free hand over her mouth harshly. He met her eyes with his, to break her shock. He felt a depression on the bed, he watched her eyes move to the side and widen ever more; Danik looked and saw Whisper on the bed fangs barred at her. Shaking her head to catch her gaze again, out of breath, giving his voice a slight hiss he addressed the girl.
“Lady Sybil you’re to come with me.”
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(OK haven't done this before. Just tell if and where I should change anything I'll do it soon as. Sorry.)
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"I'm afraid Lady Sybil won't be going anywhere with you."
A loud clanging sounded at the end of both corridors, the sound of doors bursting open and men in livery storming forward. And then, the flash of naked steel being drawn in the interior.
"But perhaps you and I could dance?"
Danik spun his gaze around the room, partly blinded by the sudden flood of light from the open doors, his grip on the woman and his sword tightened. Danik watched his men instantly react, crossbows aimed, swords drawn, they formed a shield around him, Danik felt their blood rise along with his, Mikael stood behind him sword raised. Too easy, Danik scolded himself, taken by surprise by his own lack of caution. “Hold fast!” he yelled, hastily gauging his position. In numbers, his men in the room seemed evenly matched, the Dornishmen barricading the doors, filling the already crowded room. Tension drowned the room; Danik felt it, like trying to breathe water. His men however were battle-hardened, campaigns across Essos, with glinting spears, swords and armor he doubted the Dornish guards had ever seen battle, he remembered what someone once told him in the Nights Watch, Dorne has many great warriors but few great battles. If he lost half his men in this room, at least double the number of guards awaited outside, Danik deduced from previous castles he’d attacked. So fighting his way out was not an option, no-one sung songs for dead sellswords, or paid them. Danik focused himself, starring at the shadows where the bold voice echoed from. Whisper hissed on the bed poised ready to strike, ignoring all the other men the room, transfixed on this figure in the dark. From her reaction, Danik knew Whisper saw that this man was the most dangerous in the room. The woman squirmed in his arms, forcing him to tighten his grip, his mind searching for an escape.
He listened to the man’s words, arrogant and overconfident, Danik guessed so would he be if the position was reversed. The woman squirmed in his arms, forcing him to stiffen his grip even more, his mind searching for an escape.
“I only dance with comely whores with large breasts and soft thighs.” He said at the man who slowly stepped out from the darkness. Danik tried the one thing, that other than killing, whoring and thieving he was good at. With intense determination, Danik continued.
“Let’s make a deal.”
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