>>452818
Put them in chains

>>452818
>The demand for slaves is perhaps the only constant in these shattered lands. Put them in chains.

>>452818
>>The demand for slaves is perhaps the only constant in these shattered lands. Put them in chains

What happened to the last quest Velo?

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>>452830
>>452843
>>452848
Slavers it is.

Truthfully you have no need for a bunch of green shits to babysit, and there was little sense in slaughtering the lot of them when Lys and Myr are no more than a few day's march in either direction. “Indeed, it's worked well for us these last few months and I see little reason to change our routine now.”

Sir Desmond grunts in response, pouring himself a cup of wine and rising at length from the bench. It's but a few moments later that you hear the great booming call of his voice in the yard, ordering the men to fetch chains from the carts and lock up the villagers of whatever backwater town this is. You rise, taking the wine with you, and march out into the inn's courtyard to see your will carried out.

You find the peasantry gathered up as Desmond said, by the crumbling well at the center of this soon-to-be burnt out husk of a village. Already the roar of flames and the smell of burning thatch fills the air as your men move from one pitiable hut to the next, torches in hand. A guess places the number of survivors at perhaps a hundred men, women, and children. They're forced to step forward one at a time and chained around the wrist, each one linked to the next. Sir Cedrick Storm, another one of your lieutenants, oversees the process.

A few of your men filter out of the tavern behind you, calling out your own moniker as they slip past. You've never been quite fond of it yourself, but as far as nicknames go it's at least better than the title they've saddled the young Lord Corbray with. You've never quite gotten a straight answer as to why they started calling him the Knight of Birdshit.

>They call you the Silver Bastard, on account of your hair. You're a dragonseed from Driftmark.
>They call you Snake-Eye, on account of a curious deformity. You count yourself among the Ironborn.
>They call you the Grey Giant, on account of your stature and frame. You're a proud son of the North.
>Write-in

>>452916
>They call you the Silver Bastard, on account of your hair. You're a dragonseed from Driftmark.
Time for dragons bitches

>>452916
>>They call you the Silver Bastard, on account of your hair. You're a dragonseed from Driftmark.

>>452916
>They call you the Grey Giant, on account of your stature and frame. You're a proud son of the North.

>>452916
>They call you the Grey Giant, on account of your stature and frame. You're a proud son of the North

>>452916
>They call you the Silver Bastard, on account of your hair. You're a dragonseed from Driftmark.

>>452916
>Silver bastard

>>452916
>>They call you the Grey Giant, on account of your stature and frame. You're a proud son of the North.

>>452921
>>452934
>>452952
>Charismatic

>>452937
>>452944
>Strong

>>452916
>They call you the Silver Bastard, on account of your hair. You're a dragonseed from Driftmark.

>>452953
>>452954
Didn't see these, but the result remains the same.

The Silver Bastard, fitting if nothing else. You bear markedly Valyrian features, platinum white hair and eyes a deep shade of purple. Your mother used to say you had the blood of dragons in your veins, though you put little faith in her yammering. She was a notorious whore, and at various points has claimed you were the son of either Prince Rhaegar or the Mad King Aerys. More likely your father was a dockhand, the bastard son of a bastard son, who scraped together enough coin to afford your mother's services.

Regardless, you were sixteen years old when King Robert Baratheon seized the Iron Throne in the War of the Usurper. You couldn't really say what made you flee Driftmark, maybe it was your mother's stories getting to your head, but you pulled together some coin and bought passage on a ship bound for Braavos. Since then you've fought in more petty skirmishes than you care to count and more than a few pitched battles as well. Your reputation was such that when Old Captain Sebastien caught a knife in the gut for insulting the wrong merchant prince, you ended up elected to his position.

As the last of the captives are lashed together, your men forced to resort to rope once they ran out of chain, you toss your empty cup over your shoulder and wander over to where you'd previously tied your horse. Truthfully you were growing tired of these incessant little raids, but if nothing else they were profitable. Your contract was almost up, though that brought with it its own host of worries. Four hundred men weren't going to just feed themselves.

You haul yourself gracefully into the saddle of your black courser, armor clattering loudly as the plates knock against each other. The crack of a whip draws your attention momentarily away from future concerns, and you watch passively as the line of slaves lurches into reluctant motion. Your supply train sits just beyond this little hamlet's low walls.

>Gather your forces and set course for Lys the Lovely, the Perfumed Sister. Home to the world's finest whores.
>Gather your forces and set course for Myr, a city of learning and industry. Home to the world's finest artisans.

>>453076
>Lys
Because the description sound better

>>453076
>>Gather your forces and set course for Myr, a city of learning and industry. Home to the world's finest artisans.

>>453076
Myr

>>453076
>>Gather your forces and set course for Lys the Lovely, the Perfumed Sister. Home to the world's finest whores.

>>453076
>>Gather your forces and set course for Lys the Lovely, the Perfumed Sister. Home to the world's finest whores.

Lys!

>>453118
>>453125
>Crossbows

>>453115
>>453135
>>453138
>Whores

Gotta love them whores.

>>453143
I imagine I'd be easier to sell slaves in Lys than in Myr. The latter is industry and prime for slave workers, true, but anyone can be bought, sold, and used in Lys for the right price.

>>453149
I just want to let my 400 men fuck the best whores.

Pretty excited to start running again, hope y'all enjoy.

>>453154
Everyone knows this tripcode so I don't even believe you're the real Velo.

>>453156
Lots of anons seem to be faking Velo lately, baka

>>453156
Hell, half the Discord knows Trick's tripcode after it got leaked. I doubt you're Trick.

>>453161
> The best part about it is that I can be Velo, and Trick, and just by switching I.D's the world runs smoothly and I remain the center of attention

And can samefag without worry, it's really quite nice

>>453161
No they don't.

If you notice anyone who isn't me that uses my tripcode is just typing it out.

>>453170
>>453181
Shut up Velo

>>453184
Ya got me, gosh dangit

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>>453154
>IDs

>>453188
I.D's are a vital form of fact check I agree

>>453188


S . . . Soma?!

> oh cool asoiaf quest
> this is pretty well written, not many velo memes
> Suddenly flood of '"TrickQM and Velo brand Tripfag Autism" ™
> qm engages
> dropped

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You dig your heels into your horse's flanks and guide the stallion forward with the ease born of experience. This old bastard's been with you through a lot over the course of the last few years. Not your first horse, and probably not your last, but a fine mount nonetheless. He barely requires your guidance at all as he carries you at an easy trot towards the mass of soldiers still assembled around the village well.

Those men nearest the inn quiet at the sight of your approach, but to get the attention of the others you pinch your fingers and blow a long, sharp whistle. The low murmur of conversation ceases the instant you make your presence known. “Don't get too comfortable, we've still got a full day's ride ahead of us. I want to be in Lys by nightfall.”

Your announcement is greeted by a great, triumphant roar. Your extended stay in the city had certainly improved the men's morale, if not necessarily their coffers. You're convinced every coin you pay them is lost to one brothel or another in the same hour. You've been staying at the manse of your employer, one of the Magisters presently sitting in the city's ruling conclave. He never did explain exactly why he's had you raiding the countryside for the last three months, but it's certainly pissed off the Myrish. Just last week you lost a little under forty men in a skirmish against a contingent of the Bright Banners. You won of course, but it cost you nonetheless.

Perhaps after your contract with Lys expires you could charter a ship East, seek employment in Slaver's Bay. You'd have to sail around the ruins of Old Valyria, an unappetizing prospect, but there's sure to be work fighting against the Dragon Queen and her army of Unsullied. You could also throw in your lot with one of the various factions warring in Westeros, but you've barely kept track of the various factions fighting over your homeland. You'd have to ask around your sources in Lys.

The steady beat of hooves informs you of Lord Corbray's arrival. Not a lord in truth, but the closest thing to true nobility your company possesses. A trueborn son of Ser Lucas from what you understand, the second son of a third son. So far down the order of inheritance for a house which is famously poor to begin with. Still, he has a certain way with words and ever since you hauled him out of that whorehouse during your last stint in Lys he's proven reliable enough.

“M'lord, we spotted a rider on out patrol. Turned and fled at the sight of us.” He's a few years your junior, but not many. Possessed of a shock of red hair he keeps styled in some inane Essosi fashion. Following close at his heels are a contingent of your light horse, spears in hand. “Kept with the rider as far as we could but lost him in a wood. Might just be coincidence, but might not.”
(1/2)

You thought you'd soundly whipped the three hundred or so men the Myrish had sent to warn you off, but perhaps you'd been mistaken. You outnumber them regardless, so they probably wouldn't wish to engage you directly. Ambush then, the terrain here is hilly enough to afford a small force some cover from prying eyes.

>Send riders ahead to scout the road, hopefully they'll be able to report any trouble lying in wait.
>Just keep an eye out, they wouldn't risk another engagement after their last defeat at your hands. No reason to be paranoid.
>Best to loop around west, avoid any potential trouble which might be waiting for you. It will add a day to your journey, but you're not exactly short on time.
>Write-in

>>453311
>>Best to loop around west, avoid any potential trouble which might be waiting for you. It will add a day to your journey, but you're not exactly short on time.
>>Write-in

Don't want to risk the slaves. Still send riders ahead though. If we're being baited into this move I want to not get caught in a pass or something.

>>453311
>Best to loop around west, avoid any potential trouble which might be waiting for you. It will add a day to your journey, but you're not exactly short on time.

>>453307
>there's sure to be work fighting against the Dragon Queen and her army of Unsullied
Sure there is, because everyone is getting burnt to shit you muppet

>>453324
>>453376
>The cautious approach

Going the long way it is, and I'll go ahead and write for sending a few riders ahead just to be safe.

https://pastebin.com/pJzppsPa
Here's a character sheet.

https://pastebin.com/KqqQ7NFd
This is a bit about your companions.

https://pastebin.com/DTu7rFAQ
Company sheet.

Meant to make these earlier but I was lazy.

No need to rush, take the long way around.

What time period is this/what major (public) events like the Beheading of Ned Stark, Danerys conquering everything, etc. you say she has unsullied so I assume she is just invading Yunkai/Mereen?

>>453437
https://pastebin.com/VkvQtU5t
Made a fuck up on the companion sheet, but fixed it.

>>453441
You've heard that the Starks under King Robb seized Harrenhal and that Winterfell's been sacked, but this is before the Red Wedding. In Slaver's Bay, Yunkai and Astapor have fallen but Mereen remains under siege by Daenery's army of freed slaves and Unsullied.

“We'll head southwest, until we hit the coast, and then we'll follow the coast east until we can find a ship willing to take us into Lys.” There's a certain risk you might end up in Tyroshi lands, and they're not particularly fond of you at the moment. However, you think you're far enough south that you'll hit the coast before you cross the border, what there is of one. That's of course assuming it hasn't moved. “Change out for a fresh horse and ride ahead of us with five men, I'll give you the liberty to choose with whom you ride. Ride ahead of us, but send someone back to report every hour or so. If you miss that deadline I'll assume there's an ambush ahead and set camp for the night.”

Lord Corbray frowns petulantly, as though a child denied a toy. “Can a man not have an afternoon to relax and enjoy himself after a hard morning of fighting and riding? Are you truly so cruel, Lucerys?”

“You and I both know we faced about as much resistance as a rich man in a whore house.” It had been pitiful really. A single charge scattered what passed for a militia and then it was more butchery than battle. “You can get drunk once you reach the coast, set camp and rejoin us on the morrow. I'm sure you can scrounge up enough of that vile brandy you so enjoy to last the night.”

“It's not vile, merely an acquired taste.” Your lieutenant protest. Personally you'd rather take your chances with the Tears of Lys than that peach swill. Mathis spurs on his horse regardless and rides off to carry out your orders.

Sir Desmond sits perched upon his monstrous warhorse just beside the cart bearing your company's rations for the next few days. He seems quite content to gnaw on the hard biscuits which sustain your army on the march. You carefully guide your courser to stand next to his own mount, peering along the road south. Briefly you consider the possibility that you've led your men into an ambush, that the Bright Banners may have planned for your impromptu diversion, but you're quick to suppress the mild panic surging through your thoughts. Can't show weakness in front of the men.

“Onwards, to gold and glory!” You hadn't come to Essos with any knowledge of High Valyrian, but over the years you've come to speak it quite proficiently. Desmond winces at the sound of your voice, and your cry is soon mirrored by officers all down the line of your men. The slaves are situated in the very middle of the long line of soldiers, shuffling along beside your supply train. You spy a woman among them, likely no older than sixteen but already striking in her beauty. Her breast sit heavily upon her chest and there's a swell to her hips you find pleasant. She'll sell for quite the pretty penny.
(1/2)

You spend much of what remains of the day ahorse, chatting pleasantly with your lieutenants. The men from Corbray's patrol report reliably and you don't run into any trouble along the way. The closer you get to shore the flatter the land becomes, and by nightfall the breeze carries the subtle hint of salt which so often marks the sea's proximity. On a stretch of flat land some few hundred feet away from the road you order the men to set camp and within the hour an impromptu city of tents has been established in this war-ravaged wasteland the great cities of Essos deem so very important.

Your squire is kind enough, or rather ordered to, erect your own tent. A small pavilion of silk dyed in red and black. Your company insignia is emblazoned across the flap, stirring in you a certain sense of pride. Your company may be one among many pillaging this wasteland, but if you've any control over your fate you'll die the rival of that bastard Strickland and his Golden Company.

>Choose from each section.

>The company's insignia is a corpse enthroned, a blade stabbed through its skeletal head.
>No, the company's insignia is a rampant tiger in black and gold, against a white field.
>Both of those are retarded, it's clearly a man in plate, rendered in black, against a red field.
>Write-in

>Seek out that pretty captive you saw among the crowd, you could use some company.
>Best to leave her alone, you wouldn't want to risk damaging the goods.
>Write-in

>>453538
>>No, the company's insignia is a rampant tiger in black and gold, against a white field.
Leave the try hard emo heraldery in westeros where it belongs.
>>Seek out that pretty captive you saw among the crowd, you could use some company.
Get it while it's fresh!

>>453538
>>No, the company's insignia is a rampant tiger in black and gold, against a white field.

>Seek out that pretty captive you saw among the crowd, you could use some company.
>Write-in
Her sister too.

>>453560
>>453563
>Tiger in black and gold on white

>>453563
>>453560
>Go looking for that pretty slave.

>Two voters
Man, /qst/ really is dead. Either that or I need to pick up the pace of these updates. Probably that last one.

>>453570
I'm here Velo :^)
I agree with both

>>453570
>>Seek out that pretty captive you saw among the crowd, you could use some company.

>>453538
Corpse insignia and a pretty girl! Charm her maybe she has useful skills...

>>453570
Tiger and pretty slave

>>453538
Inb4 girl is one of the faceless men...

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From what you understand there's quite a story behind the insignia. Supposedly the company's first client was Malaquo Maegyr, one of the reigning triarchs of Volantis and the sole tiger among their number. In some action or another against the Myrish the Free Company of Andals and First Men distinguished themselves in the fighting and was granted, along with vast sums of coin and an extension on their contract, a trained tiger. The animal has long since died but lives on in the company's insignia.

You push through the silken flap which provides your tent some small measure of privacy which many others lack. At the center of the space is a burning brazier which drives away the evening chill and a cot has been set up opposite the door. Jason, your squire and a bastard son of the Westerlands, waits by a wooden rack to help you remove your plate. He's already poured you a cup of wine and set out a meal of roast trout on a bed of sweetgrass, glazed with what you can only assume is honey.

Unstrapping your armor is a somewhat lengthy process but Jason is a practiced hand. Truthfully he's a man grown, and as fine a swordsman as you've ever had the pleasure to meet. You should probably think about knighting him at some point in the near future, but you'll need to find a new septon to oversee the ceremony.

Freed of the heavy plates of steel, you're left in little more than a tunic and breeches. Not that it particularly matters, it's not as if you're riding into Lys to thronging crowds of onlookers. You sit down to eat, tearing into the roasted trout with your fingers. The honey adds a sweetness to the dish you find enjoyable and the texture of the skin, crisped to perfection, is a welcome change from the blocks of hard bread which turn to paste in your mouth.

Your meal is only interrupted by the arrival of a courier, coming to inform you that Sir Mathis had reached the coast and set camp for the evening. Once finished you wash your hands and face in a bowl of hot water and debate how you ought to spend your evening. Of course, you could join your men in their revelry. The joyous shouts of drunken men fill the night air as the soldiers of your company no doubt enjoy the fruits of their labor. However, your thoughts turn once more to that pretty captive you saw among the line of slaves. Certainly it wouldn't be the first time you drew a girl from the ranks of newly minted slaves to share your bed for an evening.

“Jason, I think I'll have a woman tonight.” Your squire gives no indication that he's heard you, but you know he's listening. “Green eyes, a generous chest, dark hair and striking looks. I'm sure you'll find her easily enough. Oh, and ask if she has a sister.” He bows his head, but you hold out a hand to stop him before he reaches the pavilion's flap. “Tell the Sir Desmond and Cedrick to feel free to take their pick of the captives as well.”

(1/2)

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Your squire bows once more, and then he vanishes into the black of night beyond your home upon the field. You pour yourself a second, and then a third glass of wine, a dry Lysene red you believe, before he returns with the woman of your choosing in tow.

The ropes have left marks upon her wrist and at some point she split her lip. She's been crying, that much is clear. Her eyes are puffy and discolored. Still, despite her scrapes and bruises she's possessed of an undeniable beauty. A slender jaw and high cheekbones giving her a certain air of elegance and distinction. Despite whatever obvious hardships she's faced on the march, she stares at you defiant and unafraid.

“Have you been raped?” The question is largely intended to satisfy your own curiosity. One of the few changes you've made since the death of your predecessor is to try and reign in the men's more sadistic tendencies.

“Not yet.” She speaks the Common Tongue surprisingly well, her accent is subtle. Regardless, it's good to hear your officers are actually enforcing your will even when your will isn't exactly popular among the troops.

>That's about to change.
>Nor will she. How hard could it be to get a commoner to spread her legs?
>Write-in

Regardless, roll me some 3d10s

Rolled 2, 8, 2 = 12 (3d10)

>>453658
>>Write-in
What's your name?

Whose daughter were you in town?

Try to get her to spread her legs but if she doesn't, don't push it. Just make it clear that getting sold as a slave sucks.

>>453658
>Write-in
Do you have a craft? How many languages do you speak?

I can't roll because Mobile

Rolled 7, 6, 1 = 14 (3d10)

>>453658
>>Nor will she. How hard could it be to get a commoner to spread her legs?
We're super charming! How hard can it be indeed... And we're always on the look-out for talent to work for us.

Rolled 10, 8, 8 = 26 (3d10)

>>453658
>Nor will she. How hard could it be to get a commoner to spread her legs?

Lets try to convince her that pleasing us would be for the best, maybe we'll keep her out of the whore houses if she does good.

>>453668
>>453669
Good ideas! If she's useful we can employ her, surely she will prefer that to being sold in Lys.

>>453676
>>453669
>>453668
>>453678
>Questions + Rape is too easy

So, you get a +4 bonus from Charismatic and a +2 bonus from the circumstances. Making your rolls:
>18, 20, 32 against a DC of 20

I'm using Banished dice, meaning that's a regular success.

That "Silver Bastard" nickname fits quite well for a slaver (flesh for silver) and bastard (Westerosi usually wouldn't like us, no? Being a slaver).

>M'lord
Wouldn't educated and noble people say "My Lord" instead? Only peasants say "M'lord" or is that interchangeable?

>>453685
M'lord is honestly just faster, although it usually correlates with level of education.

>>453685
Sir Desmond is lowborn, so he'd probably say M'lord.

Mathis on the other hand should probably actually pronounce his words, good point. He's educated and everything. I suppose it could be excused as a slip of the tongue brought about by the exhaustion of a hard ride.

>>453690
>M'lord >excused
Or Mathis uses it to fit in, be one of the boys(Charm skills).
>>453683
>regular success
Somehow I image a Nicomo Cosca type (Joe Abercrombie's charming but treacherous mercenary captain).

>>453699
The First Law trilogy was some really great stuff, I read all three books in like a week's time.

I think I'll call it a night. 5 AM my time. I'll continue tomorrow though.

>>453720
It's good. Please continue. You planning this to be a "one-shot", short quest, long quest?

>>453720
>continue tomorrow
Thank you for writing! Enjoyed it greatly! Looking forward to bloody fights and charming women :).

>>453748
Entirely. I apologize to the QM and thankfully he's gone to bed for the night.

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Pretty captive, handsome Valyrian: I see the outcome already :).

>>453776
>Sue started it all.

"Calm down. Now just close your eyes." She did as you said. "Just relax and breathe."

You hands were wrapped around her wrists, you slid one of them up her arm, she shivered and you shushed her. You moved closer, your breathe on her neck. You kissed the side of her jaw and you felt her take in a deep breath. "Relax." You murmured and then continued to kiss down her neck. You could feel her shaking with fear and lust, it turned you on more that she was completely in your control. You raised one of her arms above her head and then did the same with the other. With both her arms above her head she nothing to hold on to except for your wrists.

"M'lord." She sobbed. You were rock hard.

"This is how much control I have over you all the time. I own you and you will do as I wish, understand?"

"Yes, m'lord."

"Good girl." You kissed her neck again and could swear you heard her moan. Then with surprising force and strength you lifted her up and bent her over the table...

>>453720
Get a twitter.

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It's rare to find a woman of common birth with any sort of education worth mentioning, and rarer still to find them outside of a whorehouse here in the Free Cities. “Jason, bring in a second chair and something at least halfway edible. After that, consider yourself dismissed for the evening.” Your squire slips readily from the pavilion, and your attention turns fully to the woman before you. “What's your name, girl?”

“Sereya Ormoris.” There's an unmistakable pride in her declaration. As though you should have heard the name before. Probably a tradesman in Myr, sent his daughter out to oversee his holdings in the countryside. You seem to recall ordering your men to burn a field of flax before beginning your assault on the village proper. Perhaps a textile manufacturer?

Or, that little paranoid voice in your head whispers, a faceless man sent to gut you just like they gutted Captain Sebastien. Perhaps Magister Ordello didn't consider the matter settled with the death of your predecessor. Perhaps he wishes to see your company brought to ruin and its members scattered to the farthest corners of known world. Fortunately your squire returns bearing a simple wooden folding chair and a plate of flatbread, dates, and black olives arrayed beside a thick dollop of chickpea paste.

Jason deftly snaps out the chair and sets it down across from you, the plate set down atop the squat table on which you take your meals. Sereya merely glares at you as your squire pours her a glass of sweet Volantene red, but as he bows and takes his leave her eyes flick briefly to the meal you've had laid out for her. She's conflicted, but in the end her hunger wins out over her hubris.

She sighs irritably and sits down across from you, daintily plucking an olive from her plate. She eats with the poise and grace you'd expect of a noblewoman, and now that you're able to get a closer look at her tattered dress you realize it's trimmed with lengths of golden silk. A woman accustomed to wealth, that much is clear. “Who is your father?”

“As of this morning, a dead man.” She doesn't seem particularly upset about the man's, you may even detect a certain gratitude. “Before that he owned a workshop in Myr. He brought my fool of a brother and I out to this blighted corner of the disputed lands to survey his latest acquisition, a few hundred acres of farmland.”

Her family seems a fruitful topic of conversation. “I take it you weren't very fond of the man, or your brother by the sound of it.”

(1/2)

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“My father was a cruel man who preferred whores to my mother, and my brother is a craven child who will waste what little remains of our fortune on senseless luxuries.” She spits an olive pit onto the floor, perhaps the sole lapse in her manners you've thus far observed. “I detested them both, fleeing your men was perhaps the first wise decision my brother ever made.”

Perhaps it was this girl's brother who Sir Mathis pursued on horseback, rather than an outrider of the Bright Banners as you'd earlier suspected. On the other hand, perhaps it was this girls' father who hired the Bright Banners to begin with. “I don't suppose he'd be willing to pay your ransom, would he?”

“No, I don't imagine so.” She snatches her goblet off the table, spilling some of its contents across the front of her muddied dress. “It's simpler with me out of the picture, he'll inherit my father's wealth in its entirety and freely run the business into the ground. Meanwhile I'll be forced to whore myself in a Lysene pillow house.”

An opportunity presents itself. “Likely not even a particularly good one either. All the reputable pleasure houses prefer their slaves around the age of nine or ten, they like to start training early so that by the time they're your age they've already mastered the sensual arts. No, I imagine you'll be sold to dockside brothel catering to common born sailors and their captains.”

“Unless of course, you prove yourself more useful as a member of my personal retinue.” Sereya tears her eyes away from the dancing flame of the candle sitting upon your nightstand, her suspicion written plainly on her face. “Perhaps I could be convinced to spare you that fate, if you had any demonstrable talents.”

She raises her cup to her lips to buy time, no doubt considering her words carefully. Only after she gently places the silver goblet down upon the table does she finally speak. “For a time my father groomed me to succeed him, though his attention shifted to my brother after he was born I've always had a talent for numbers.”

She can tell you're unimpressed, and despite her best efforts fails to keep that panicked desperation from her tone. “I'm familiar with the various dialects of Bastard Valyrian spoken throughout the Free Cities and the Low Valyrian of Slaver's Bay. I also consider myself fluent in both High Valyrian and the Westerosi tongue, as I've already shown. Dothraki has proven a difficult language to master but I know enough to make myself understood if need be, and I've even taken some lessons on the Quartheen tongue. I could serve as a translator, or perhaps negotiate your contracts.”

(2/3)

You suppose you would appreciate having someone in your employ who you could trust to handle your clients, but you've proven a capable enough businessman thus far and Sir Desmond is quite the skillful accountant. She would prove useful, but would she prove more useful than the coin you'd get from selling her?

Sereya tightens her grip upon the stem of her silver goblet until her knuckles turn white. “A-and, I'm inexperienced, but I could-” She trails off, swallowing nervously and averting her eyes. “I could warm your bed, if that's what it takes to convince you.”

>Acceptable, she may consider herself your personal property.
>On second thought, you think you'll sell her after all.
>Write-in

Character Sheet:
https://pastebin.com/PBmt4Vuu
Companion Sheet:
https://pastebin.com/1p8We0rz
Company Sheet:
https://pastebin.com/Zvwt6CRv

>>455987
>Acceptable, she may consider herself your personal property.

>>455987
>>On second thought, you think you'll sell her after all.
There's always better waifus, she's not that useful after all don't forget to fuck her though

>>455987
>>Acceptable, she may consider herself your personal property.
>Write-in
Tell her she's gonna study to be a translator under our employ. First work on the Qartheen tongue and Dothraki tongue to master them as best she can before we start her working on more and more esoteric languages.

Do we have a single man in our company who knows more languages than her?

>>455987
>On second thought, you think you'll sell her after all.
We don't let the first whore we see count our coins

>>456030
Can always use for languages as well and if nothing else use her as a bedwarmer.

>>456035
don't sleep with slaves or you won't wake up.
Don't trust translator or they'll fuck you.
Danny knew how to speak to the Khal and she knew he's kill Vyserys.
You have to leanr the language yourself to know what is said.

>>455987
>Acceptable, she may consider herself your personal property.

>>456024
She isn't a waifu. She's got them languages tho. Consider it an investment.

>>455987
>Acceptable, she may consider herself your personal property.

>>456045
Obelix, no offense but after everything I have heard you say in Awaken and the Discord I think everyone's best bet is to do exactly the opposite of what you say.

>falling for the first whore you meet
Come on guys, I'm sure there are other people in our 400 man company that could be our translator, better get the gold to equip ourselves better

>>456054
hey Inqui how are you doing?
or maybe Kaze or Tot.
Also.
>Discredidting an argument on it's value but on it's origin
Well you're not smart are you?

>>456062
We are not falling for her. We just use her for her skills and warmth.

>>456068
>trusting a slave
how dumb can one get?

>>456045

>Don't trust translator or they'll fuck you.

This is dumb. Don't trust any translators ever?

>Danny knew how to speak to the Khal and she knew he's kill Vyserys.

Viserys died not because he couldn't speak a language but because he did something retarded that got him killed and didn't listen to people that actually knew Dothraki culture.

>You have to learn the language yourself to know what is said.

This is a waste of time. She's already specialized in speaking languages while we're specialized in being in command. Don't water ourselves down being a jack of all trades type when we could focus on what our job is.

>>456062
I'm not so sure. that's why I'm asking the QM.

>>456077
>This is dumb. Don't trust any translators ever?
don't translator who want to manage your coin and literally fuck you.
This lady is fishy as fuck.
I'd trust a friend as a translator, not a whore slave who claim to be a virgin and to have a sad backstory to get in our bed and manage our coin and shape you relation with foreign people.

>>456063
None of the above. It's almost like being a shitty tripfag with a terrible reputation comes to bite you in the ass.

>>455987
QM, anyone else we in our company speak these languages

>>456096
>shitty tripfag with a terrible reputation comes to bite you in the ass.
Alright Demi perharps or Wave.
Nah even Wave doesn't hate me.
Foreign maybe.

>>455987
>Acceptable, she may consider herself your personal property.

>>456062
>Falling
Love it when people just assume shit.

>>456088
>don't translator who want to manage your coin and literally fuck you.

We asked her her skills. She mentioned she was good with numbers and that she could fuck us if we wanted her body. Those are her skills. She doesn't 'want' to do any of those things. It's not like some offer out of the blue.

>This lady is fishy as fuck.

Not . . . really.

>I'd trust a friend as a translator, not a whore slave who claim to be a virgin and to have a sad backstory to get in our bed and manage our coin and shape you relation with foreign people.

>Whore
She's never been a whore. We might make her a whore right now, but up until this point she has not been a whore or a slave. I also find it odd you're doubting her claims of virginity. Claims she never really made.

>>456100
Well, High Valyrian is the company tongue, and Bastard Valyrian is widespread. You're familiar with most of the dialects personally. You don't know of anyone who speaks Quartheen or Low Valyrian, but there is one former Dothraki slave among your company. At least, there was at some point. You haven't seen him since the last skirmish, but nor would you wish to keep meticulous track of all three hundred and seventy one men of your company.

>>455995
>>456027
>>456047
>>456051
>>456105
>Acceptable

>>456030
>>456024
>Sell her anyway.

>>456111
>that she could fuck us if we wanted her body
no i'll ask you one thing does this seem logical with her backstory since she said she's a virgin or inexperienced.
What kind of inexperienced girl would sell her body out?
She is fishy as fuck.
Saying your good with coin mean, make me your accountant and saying she's good with language mean make your translator.
This girl is literally trying to get a position where she's entrusted with a critical taslk and this is fishy as fuck.

>>456124
It's okay Obelix. We've already established that you are paranoid and delusional from other talks. What you say is pretty much white noise.

>>456131
>paranoid and delusional
Makes writing about a paranoid MC really easy.

>>456124
>no i'll ask you one thing does this seem logical with her backstory since she said she's a virgin or inexperienced.
She said she was inexperienced not a virgin. All we know for sure is she wasn't raped and she's not trained in the pleasure arts which makes sense for someone who isn't a whore.


>What kind of inexperienced girl would sell her body out?

A girl with no options? Her options are fuck us or get sold to a shitty brothrel. She doesn't have much of a choice -- somebody's fucking her.

>She is fishy as fuck.

Not . . . really.

>Saying your good with coin mean, make me your accountant and saying she's good with language mean make your translator.
>This girl is literally trying to get a position where she's entrusted with a critical taslk and this is fishy as fuck.

She's trying desperately to prove herself useful because if she wasn't considered useful we're selling her off. Of course she's going to bring up her skills.

>>456143
>She's trying desperately to prove herself useful because if she wasn't considered useful we're selling her off. Of course she's going to bring up her skills.
She could have proposed to please our mens instead of us but she asked us.
There's reason behind this.

>>456154
Because getting gangfucked is preferable to sleeping with the commander (who is a good looking valyrian) ?

>>456154
>Literally already forgetting that we sent for her in particular

You enjoy shaping logic to fit your delusions don't you?

Slight delay, but I'll be back momentarily.

>>456154
What are you talking about? Could you please read the thread before posting?

We asked our squir to bring her to us because we wanted to fuck a hot bitch.

We found out we can use her to do something and also fuck her.

This is the sequence of events so far. At what point did she ever have control over the situation? At what point did she hatch her nefarious plot to . . . do what?

I mean, yeah I agree, there's a reason behind her wanting to fuck the commander over a bunch of grunts at once.

1. We're more attractive than them

2. She won't be getting gangraped

3. We have more power over her position than a bunch of grunts

These are her motivations for offering her body when she KNOWS the reason we called her to our tent was to fuck her.

>>456177
>>456161
>>456159
The fact that she wanted to do intellectual thing which are important position is fishy no more no less i'd be ok with fucking her not with letting her translate for us or admnistrate our money and so should everyone here.
There's a reason you hire trusted people to do that it's because thoses positions mean power over us.

>>456186
Ofcours.e we arent just gonna put her infront of our treasury tomorrow morning.

>>456186
>she wanted to do intellectual thing
My god. Someone has a brain other than us. And uses it too! Who woulda thunk it?

>>456186
>The fact that she wanted to do intellectual thing which are important

Stop saying WANT.

We asked her "What are your skills?" Like an employer would ask of a potential employee..

And she responded. 'Uhhhh, I can be an accountant, possibly a translator and I can fuck you."

We say "alright, I'm fucking you and you're a translator"

We have a trusted friend already watching our money so that isn't a worry. I mean there's a chance she could try to mistranslate something to fuck us over but how would that help her at all? She's got a much better chance at having a pleasant existence if she does what we want. Because we're right now the least scummy option she has.

I think you should stop being paranoid and afraid of the unarmed slave woman.

I mean, fuck, if you were paranoid that she was some super assassin faceless man I'd get that sorta since the QM brought that up in the post, but translators aren't exactly powerful individuals in ASOIAF.

>>456199
having a brain is a bad thing when it's not you who has it and it's someone who'd stand to benefit to fuck you and use you.
>>456200
Proposing skill mean you want thoses positions.
The resume you're writing to be a fucking buger flipper isn't gonna be the same as the one you do when you want to be an accountant.
She chose the skills she presented she likely have more but yet she presented thoses because thoses have influence over us, i say don't trust her.

>>456208

Right but it isn't like the burger flipper has the skills to be an accountant. Though the accountant could probably be a burger flipper. Now which position would you rather have the accountant in, accounting or burger flipping.

Same with this woman, she obviously has an education, she's willing to work with us because we're a better option and what is left of her family just abandoned her. Now why would we sell someone who can be useful to us off to be a dockside whore when we can use her talents ourselves.

>>456235
I Only chose to sell her because i knew the waifu effect would take place and she'd slowly try to get what she want, control.
So we either all admit that she must not be a fucking accountant or translator for us or i'm still for getting rid of her.

>>456208
So what you're saying.

is she should have presented more menial, easy-to-do tasks that would have made her seem less competent than a run-of-the-mill grunt to prove she won't fuck us over?

We would have just sold her to the slavehouses if she gave us jack and shit for skills.

What, you expect her to tell us she's an awesome grave digger with those soft, womanly hands?

We were offering her random positions in our force.

She aimed for the ones that suit what she knows and are believable for her to be alright at. Which precludes her from most labor tasks and from most positions of commanding authority and definitely from fighting.

There are literally no positions she could possibly be useful at other than accountant


>>456246
>the waifu effect

See, this is why anti-waifu fags are worse than waifu fags. you jump the gun. Trust me, if I see her doing shady shit I'll be with you when we knock her down a peg or two.

>I'm still for getting rid of her

Alright man, but you got outvoted and your arguments don't hold water. This is obvious to anyone who reads the thread.

Right now this woman is at the very bottom of having control over her life. We are her judge, jury, executioner, employer and owner. Anything she gets we give her and her main duty is going to be bedwarmer.

>>456256
> Anything she gets we give her and her main duty is going to be bedwarmer.
Not if you fucking make her your tanslator or accountant then you're the one dependant.
Never let slaves do work you can't do yourself or check if they did properly easily.
>There are literally no positions she could possibly be useful at other than accountant
She could just be a bedwarmer and that's it.
Just stress relief.

Back and writing the post.

>>456265
>Not if you fucking make her your tanslator or accountant then you're the one dependant.

What backwards ass logic is this? No we're not. If we make her our translator and she refuses to translate some deal . . . we kill her. Or sell her to a brothel. Or rape her or whatever.
We don't lose power by putting someone with skills to work.

>Never let slaves do work you can't do yourself or check if they did properly easily.

Laughingghiscari.jpeg

>She could just be a bedwarmer and that's it.
Just stress relief.

Except it's a waste of good resources. We can buy a lyseni whore who is a master at pleasuring men if we really wanted to get our rocks off super good. I don't know why you're afraid of this person. She literally can't do a single thing to us unless she is a faceless man and if she's a faceless man we're dead anyway.

You have more reason to be paranoid the fat guy who actually runs our finances is skrimping from the top to go buy tubs of ice cream than you should of the literal slave we are literally enslaving.

>>456292
>What backwards ass logic is this? No we're not. If we make her our translator and she refuses to translate some deal . . . we kill her. Or sell her to a brothel. Or rape her or whatever.
>We don't lose power by putting someone with skills to work.
>implying she'd refuse
>implying she'd not mistranslate both side and make the deal fail if she want it to fail.

>>456294
>>implying she'd not mistranslate both side and make the deal fail if she want it to fail.

And then she makes the deal fail.

And then we realize she's a shit translator.

And then we fire her . . . which leads to her getting sold to a whorehouse.

Fucking us over by being incompetent fucks her over worse.

The incentives for her to not be shit are the same incentives for all slaves to not be shit at what they do.

>>456301
>And then we realize she's a shit translator.
no you don't you think she translated properly and the other guys is cunt and the other guy believes it as well.

>>456306
I think that ruse wouldn't work well.

Especially if the other guy has his own translator.

>>456313
Not to mention she would be in bad shit too as she would be part of our retinue.

Surprised you are still arguing with the white noise.

>>456313
Then if people have translator why should we.
And if they don't we can't trust her.
there's no good reason to make her a translator or an accountant.
This can only end with a shit event and betreyal or failure, or simply her doing the job as well as anyone we can hire for like like 1 gold a month.

>>456317
>Then if people have translator why should we.
To make sure their translator isnt fucking up either.

Remember when Dany was listening to the insults from the slaver that the translator omitted?

Very useful.

>>456328
>Remember when Dany was listening to the insults from the slaver that the translator omitted?
And?
People can think thoses they don't need to tell them to their translator either.
>To make sure their translator isnt fucking up either.
then we need a trust worthy translator and not someone who'd omit to point out mistake or only translate what she wants to be said to be free.

>>456335
>People can think thoses they don't need to tell them to their translator either.

that knowledge helped Dany gauge her opponents for the type of man he was

>then we need a trust worthy translator and not someone who'd omit to point out mistake or only translate what she wants to be said to be free.

Then don't make her official translator. Keep her around as just a 'bedmate' when we make deals, listen to the translator of the other guy. Later, ask her exactly what the guy was saying. If we don't trust or like her words or information we disregard it.

Still gives us a potential information edge with no drawbacks

>>456362
>Then don't make her official translator. Keep her around as just a 'bedmate' when we make deals, listen to the translator of the other guy. Later, ask her exactly what the guy was saying. If we don't trust or like her words or information we disregard it.
Having her as a secret translator is actually a good idea.
See talking things out only lead to good solutions being found.

I supported selling her but this is getting silly. She's our fuck slave now and maybe something else later. But if she does anything wrong we can always sell her to the shittiest brothel in Volantis

Come on guys, it's simple
>Fuck her
>Don't waifu her (but if we can make her enjoy her slavery / recognise we're the best option she's got then so much the better)
>If the opportunity arises to use her skills then we use them, if not, we don't
I agree check other translators is probably better than relying on her completely unless we have to.

>>456376
Also this

You reach across the table and grab the bottle of wine from where it sits beside her plate, leisurely filling your own cup in silence. You want to let her sweat for a while, giver her the opportunity to really consider what her life would be like as a dockside Lysene whore. Setting aside the bottle you take a sip, enjoying the subtle notes of citrus and spice which dance across your tongue. “Very well, Sereya. There is a man among my company, a former Dothraki slave who goes by the name Gerard. Last I was aware he served as my Master of Horse. Come morning, seek him out for lessons.”

She breathes out an immense sigh of relief, a smile gracing her lips at long last. “You won't regret taking me on, I promise. Thank you.”

“Until morning, you'll be sharing my bed.” Her face falls, whatever joy she might have felt at your acceptance wiped way in an instant. Though, she does not truly look disappointed. Perhaps pensive would better describe her emotional state. “We'll start with something simple, have you ever served a man with your mouth?”

She tentatively shakes her head no. Some part of you briefly wonders whether this isn't all just an act. Could you truly be so lucky as to have stumbled across some virginal maiden daughter of a wealthy merchant on an entirely routine raid of a nameless village? There's a dagger sitting in its sheath on your nightstand. You could close the distance in two steps and have the blade free before she had time to so much as stand.

“Get down on your knees in front of me.” Your hand falls upon the button holding up your breeches, unfastening it passively while Sereya reluctantly climbs down off her chair and sidles up between you legs. Freed from the confines of your underclothes, your manhood sits heavy and flaccid just a few inches in front of her face. She stares at you wide-eyed and curious, as though she'd never seen a cock before.

She takes you in trembling hands, stroking clumsily. Slowly but surely your length hardens, if not due to her skill then perhaps merely due to her dogged determination. To call her enthusiastic would be a lie, but she realizes full well that her future may depend on her ability to get you off. You rest a hand upon the back of her head and gently guide her forward, and unbidden she lightly kisses the underside of your shaft.

Her tongue darts out nervously, sliding out to caress your glans. You get the sense that she's working herself up to the task ahead of her. Unfortunately for her, you're growing impatient. “Open your mouth.”
(1/2)

Your command is met with a frightened glance, but she obeys nonetheless. Leaning back, she allows her lips to part and sticks out her tongue. You guide yourself forward, sighing pleasurably at the sensation of your cock pushing into her mouth. Even as she struggles not to gag.

Ultimately you take her chastity that night, as evidenced by the spots of blood staining the fabric of your cot. You were gentle with her, and you might even say she was enjoying it towards the end, but tears were shed nonetheless. Afterwards you lied awake waiting to hear the sound of your dagger sliding from its sheath, waiting for her to drive it into your throat and make her escape. Instead you listened as her breathing slipped into a smooth, even rhythm. Sleep claimed her long before it did you.

Morning finds you unexpectedly, you don't recall ever falling asleep but at some point you must have. Sun shines through the flap of your tent and the sounds of men rising groggily to face the day echo throughout your camp. The fire in your brazier has burned low and the chill morning air urges you to spend a few moments longer enjoying the warmth of Sereya's body. Instead you push yourself up into a seated position, and climb reluctantly out from under a thick woolen blanket.

You should be in Lys by nightfall, if all goes well.

>Wake Sereya and tell her to get dressed, she has a Dothraki slave to hunt down and a language to learn.
>Jason should be waiting just outside the pavilion, tell him to bring in your breakfast.
>Dress yourselves in finery to meet with Magister Tychos, your employer.
>Write-in

>>456448
>Dress yourselves in finery to meet with Magister Tychos, your employer.

>>456448
>Wake Sereya and tell her to get dressed, she has a Dothraki slave to hunt down and a language to learn.

Then
>Dress yourselves in finery to meet with Magister Tychos, your employer.

>>456448
>Dress yourselves in finery to meet with Magister Tychos, your employer.

Job well done and merchandise to sell

>>456448
>Dress yourselves in finery to meet with Magister Tychos, your employer.

>>456448
>>Wake Sereya and tell her to get dressed, she has a Dothraki slave to hunt down and a language to learn.
>>Jason should be waiting just outside the pavilion, tell him to bring in your breakfast.
>>Dress yourselves in finery to meet with Magister Tychos, your employer.

I hate to be the faggot that says do everything.

But why not? I'd kinda like to eat breakfast and talk to the employer.

>>456448

Will we be riding particularly hard? Because if so we might want to hold off changing so we don't muss up the clothes

Regardless

>Wake Sereya and tell her to get dressed, she has a Dothraki slave to hunt down and a language to learn.

And tell her that she is working for us now, keep ears and eyes open and report anything she sees that seems significant

>>456478
>Will we be riding particularly hard?
Probably not. You'll set an easy pace heading south until you hit the coast and then it shouldn't take you long to find a ship which can take you and your men the rest of the way into Lys. Overall the rest of the journey should take about five or six hours, placing you in port a little after noon.

>>456448
>Wake Sereya and tell her to get dressed, she has a Dothraki slave to hunt down and a language to learn.
>Jason should be waiting just outside the pavilion, tell him to bring in your breakfast.
Share the breakfast with Seraya.
We want to make sure she realises her best chance for a good quality of life is to make us happy / not fuck up any of the translation. We've already got the prospect of 'the worst dockside whorehouse' as a stick, nice meals and a comfortable bed can be the carrot.
>[Write in]
Dress in our standard combat garb - we'll change before the meeting but we haven't made it to Lys yet. I don't want to get caught out by an unexpected attack and a days ride will leave our finery filthy regardless.

>>456470
>>456468
>>456466
>>456456
>>456465
>Dress yourself

>>456470
>>456510
>Eat breakfast.

>>456470
>>456465
>>456478
>>456510
>Kick her out

I'll write for telling her to find Gerard and getting dressed in your courtly garb.

>>456448
Sucks to be her. Gone from a rich merchants daughter to a sellsword captains whore.

>>456547
I mean . . . if we kill her brother and "marry" her we get all her father's shit.

Just something to think about.

>>456556
Kinda want to just be a merc for right now personally. Job to job, growing our band, etc.

>>456556
>Mercenary all life
>Now a merchant
Bad fucking idea

>>456574
>Now a merchant

Oh please. We wont be doing any trading. Just sell it all off and spend the money on equipment, wine and whores.

>>456582
Not bad but we have to
>Find her brother
>Kill him without getting caught
>Somehow convince people that she wasn't forced to "marriage"

>>456566
>>456574
i feel like we could do that without letting the merchant shit overwhelm us or do as >>456582
says and sell it all for pure cash.

Of course, I just mentioned it as an option. No need to do that first thing.

>>456590
I feel like

>Kill him without getting caught

Will be the only difficult thing to accomplish

Sereya should know where her father's business is which is probably where the brother is. And then even if we weren't married she still inherits that shit.

I mean remember Bronn essentially pulled that off except with noblewomen and castles instead of merchant daughters and businesses

>>456591
>>456590
Merely an idea for later. Lets not take it too seriously as of now.

File: Finery.jpg (180 KB, 451x555)

180 KB JPG

Stretching languidly, you briefly survey the interior of your pavilion. You spy your chest sitting near the rack holding your plate, and with all the enthusiasm of a man walking to his grave rise from your cot and pad across the fine Myrish rugs which coat the floor to pull it open. Inside you find a small collection of text on history and the art of war, a collapsible Myrish eye, and a jeweled dagger. Most importantly, your finery lies buried within, underneath all your other valuables.

You consider yourself a practical man, and your courtly garb reflects that. You quickly pull on a clean white shirt, somewhat wrinkled from the time its spent folded up underneath your books but not terribly so. It's fastened with a series of buttons along the front. Next comes a pair of black breeches slashed along the outside seam with rich burgundy-colored silk. Last, and most importantly, is a thickly padded gambeson of quilted cotton, the inner lining composed of stiff leather. Is it comfortable? Not at all, but it offers some measure of protection in the den of vipers that is a princeling's mance.

The lone nod to your vanity is a patterned silken half-cape draped across your right shoulder, your company's insignia emblazoned across its face. You pull on a comfortable pair of leather riding boots to and strap a belt about your waist to complete the outfit. That done you pluck your bastard sword in its silver-patterned sheath off the hook from which it hangs, strapping it to your belt in plain view. You find the weight a great comfort, in truth.

Dressed to face the day ahead, you turn your attention to Sereya. She yet sleeps soundly, despite the racket you made hauling various books and valuables about the room. Crossing the room you grab her gently by the shoulder, shaking her roughly to force her awake. The girl groans wearily and tries to retreat beneath the woolen blanket rather than face the day, but you pry it from her grasp.

She sits up bleary-eyed and confused, but it doesn't take her long to remember where she is. She tries feebly to cover her chest with an arm, but you've already turned your attention elsewhere. You snatch your dagger off the nightstand and slide it into a concealed pocket on the interior of your gambeson. “Get dressed, go find Gerard. He should be somewhere near the horses. We should reach Lys by noon, and I expect by then you'll have made at least some progress towards mastering Dothraki.”

Sereya nods brusquely, and you leave her to her task. Stepping out into the pale light of morning, your squire Jason greets you with a crooked grin. “You'll be pleased to know, Captain Luc, that Lord Birdshit and his riders returned perhaps an hour ago reporting nothing but empty road ahead of us.”
(1/2)

File: Belero Ormyl.jpg (127 KB, 650x566)

127 KB JPG

The day starts slowly. You enjoy a breakfast of black bread, clotted cream, and hot mulled wine with your lieutenants and chat amicably about the night before. Mathis is gravely disappointed that he spent the night getting sand in his ass while the rest of you took your pick of the captives, but his ire is abated the moment Sir Desmond promises to buy him a whore in a pleasure house of his choice once the company is back in Lys.

Once the men have had time to rouse themselves and the captives have been given their morning ration, a single hard biscuit each, you give the order to mount up and assemble the company. As promised you enjoy an easy ride south until you finally see the endless expanse of blue stretching to the horizon. The Summer Sea, in all its glory. You lead your company along the road east and before noon you've found yourself a seaworthy vessel striped in the vivid hues typical of Lysene galleys.

Unfortunately, the captain is an old friend. Belero Ormyl has the pale violet eyes of the dragonlords but his ruddy brown hair reveals the impurity of his blood. The last time you met the man he and his crew of brigands were raiding ships off the coast of Pentos and nearly sunk the galley you'd hired on for the voyage down to Lys.

“If it isn't the Silver Bastard himself!” He greets you jovially, face split in a manic grin. “How have you been, Lucerys? I see you've recovered well from that arrow you caught in the shoulder! I do apologize about that whole business in Pentos, but you understand how this goes. Business is business, am I right?”

You intensely dislike Belero Ormyl, but you do wonder what he's doing here in a glorified fishing village. With his entire fleet of six galleys, nonetheless. Come to think of it, the docks are absolutely thronged with slaves bearing the dark skin of the Summer Isles. Perhaps freshly returned from a raid in the south?

>Continue on to see if you can't find someone else willing to take you across the straight to Lys.
>Suffer Belero's company for the few hours it takes you to reach Lys, even if he did shoot you the last time you met.
>Write-in

>>456790
>Suffer Belero's company for the few hours it takes you to reach Lys, even if he did shoot you the last time you met.

Maybe he can help us get a good price ?

>>456790
>>Suffer Belero's company for the few hours it takes you to reach Lys, even if he did shoot you the last time you met.
>>Write-in
"Business is business, my friend!"

>>456790
>Suffer Belero's company for the few hours it takes you to reach Lys, even if he did shoot you the last time you met.

>>456799
>>456813
>>456843
Suffering it is.

>>456790
>>Suffer Belero's company for the few hours it takes you to reach Lys, even if he did shoot you the last time you met.
>>Write-in

See if he's looking to sell some of his Summer Islers, even twenty of their archers would be an asset to our company. Trade some of our slave stock for them.

>>456845
I'll also have you ask about archers among his stock.

>>456845
Not sure we should use slave soldiers. The girl is one thing. But this... Slave soldiers always bite you in the ass.

>>456868
Then make them indentured servants or whatever you want to call it. A man with ambitions to be on par with the Golden Company is going to need to pick up some of the best. Summer Isler bowmen are a unique and powerful asset, surely Lucerys would be able to see that.

File: Lysene Gold.png (45 KB, 157x221)

45 KB PNG

You eye the masses of newly captured slaves suspiciously. A contingent of Summer Islanders would be a welcome addition to your meager force of archers, even without the goldenheart bows they're so famed for. “Of course, Belero. Business is business. Speaking of, any archers among their number?”

The pirate laughs, a grating sound you find. “Of course there's archers! Merciful Lord of Light, every damn one of these dusky bastards can shoot as good as any man you'll find here in the Free Cities. Even the women are a might dangerous with a bow in their hands. Why're you askin'?” He glances towards your own stock of captives. “Interested in making a trade?”

“Perhaps, though it depends entirely on the terms you ask.” Knowing Belero, he'll open with some ridiculous offer and you'll be forced to go through the tedious process of arguing with the man until eventually arriving at a workable figure.

Much to your surprise, Belero claps you affectionately upon the shoulder and pulls you along by his side towards the largest of his galleys, a vessel dipping some one hundred oars. “Well too bad, Silver! I've got less than shit to give you. I lost three score good men raiding the Summer Isles and I don't plan on parting with my bounty for a few weedy looking villagers.”

Glancing over the thronging masses of emaciated Islanders being corralled into Belero's galleys, you find it hard to believe he'd call your captives weedy. “Most of this lot seem as though on the cusp of starvation, what do you really think you'll get on the open market? Selling in bulk to another trader, you'd probably only get six or seven hundred gold. I'm planning to get nearly a thousand for my 'weedy looking villagers'.”

“Then you're planning for a fantasy, Silver.” Belero stops at the end of the dock, turning at last to face you. “Look, do you want passage to Lys or not?”

The pirate isn't quite acting like his usual self, but perhaps you're merely being paranoid. “Fine, fine. What do you ask in return for passage to Lys?”

He waves you off dramatically, scoffing. “We're headed to Lys anyway, I'll carry you and your men across free of charge. Consider it an apology for shooting you.” He cranes his neck to get a look at your company in fool, mumbling something under his breath in a language you can't immediately identify. “Probably gonna need to split yah up though, could probably fit most of your men on the Salty Whore, but the slaves and horses will have to be distributed among the other ships.”

(1/2)

This sits ill with you, but regardless you shake the pirate's hand and the two of you part ways. Sir Mathis and Sir Cedrick are waiting for you upon your return, the latter of whom spits a fat wad of pinkish froth off to the side as you approach. “What'll be the word, Captain?”

>Split up the men and the slaves such that they're more or less evenly distributed across the six galleys, the largest portion on the Salty Whore.
>You're just being paranoid, Belero is doing you a kindness. Order the men onto the Salty Whore and split the slaves and horses up among the other galleys.
>Write-in

>>456949
>Split up the men and the slaves such that they're more or less evenly distributed across the six galleys, the largest portion on the Salty Whore.

Yeah. Keep an eye on the wares.

>>456949
>>Write-in
Abort abort abort

>>456953
>Split up the men and the slaves such that they're more or less evenly distributed across the six galleys, the largest portion on the Salty Whore.

Keep the men on guard constantly during this trip. Guard the wares. I swear if this guy betrays us we are taking all of his boats.

>>456953
>Split up the men and the slaves such that they're more or less evenly distributed across the six galleys, the largest portion on the Salty Whore.
I don't like this, it's shady as fuck, but maybe we can hijack his fleet if he tries to pull shit.

>>456953
>>Split up the men and the slaves such that they're more or less evenly distributed across the six galleys, the largest portion on the Salty Whore.

Man that's disappointing, I wanted some awesome archers.

>>456979
Well you know. If he betrays us and we get into a big fight we can take the surviving archers.

Silver linings and all.

>>456959
>>456965
>>456971
>>456979
>You don't trust this.

>>456960
>Haha, fuck this shit.

“Split up the men and the captives such that there's a roughly equal amount on each of the five galleys, but allot the majority of both to his flagship.” You've no doubt that Belero will whine like a babe deprived of its mother's tit, but if the price you have to pay for avoiding the loss of your slaves is his bitching then so be it. “Belero is planning something, the scoundrel, and I plan to be ready for whatever it is.”

Your Lieutenants nod, and with a slight bow Mathis takes his leave, no doubt going to carry out your orders. However, Sir Cedrick yet remains. Spitting another wad of pink froth onto the cobble streets he juts his chin towards the rows of Summer Islanders being forced into the galleys. “Them slaves look to be in poor shape, most of 'em been whipped. I figure, things get hairy, we cut 'em free. Might be we promise a few of them a place in our company. It'd be right smart, in my eye.”

“I don't think we should promise them anything prematurely, certainly not before the outbreak of violence.” You'd run the risk of sparking a slave revolt if you went whispering promises of freedom in their ear, a revolt as likely to turn against you and yours as it is Belero. “That being said, it's a fine enough idea. Spread word among the officers, but keep it from the enlisted men if you're able.”

You're left standing on the docks for the better part of an hour, but eventually you get your men and captives loaded onto the ships. Each of the smaller galleys carries perhaps two score of your men at most, while the Salty Whore boast more than two hundred of your men thronging its deck. The horses are divided more or less equally among all six, taking up space among the decks of rowers, and the captives are similarly distributed. Overall, you feel well prepared for any potential betrayal.

You climb aboard Belero's flagship and are greeted by the man himself, a bottle of black tar rum clutched to his chest. “See yah ignored my advice, Silver.” He sniffs moodily, pretending to wipe away a tear. “S'pose it was too much to ask, you trusting an old sellsail like me. I shoulda known better than to think we could just put the past behind us.”

“What can I say, Belero.” You stride past your host, even as he busies himself pouring out two cups of that vile substance. “I don't trust a man who'd offer me something for nothing.”

A heaving lurch marks the departure of the Salty Whore, the rowers struggling to drive the enormous galley into lumbering motion. The cracking of whips sounds loudly, even over the snap of the sails and the crying of sailors. You find your own men housed below decks, among the slaves and the supplies. Nobody seems particularly enthused about the return to Lys, quite the sudden shift from their behavior the night before.

>Roll me a 3d10, this is a command check. You get a +10 bonus from Skilled Commander, Charismatic. DC is 24

Rolled 2, 10, 5 = 17 (3d10)

>>457056

Rolled 8, 10, 4 = 22 (3d10)

>>457056

Rolled 7, 3, 6 = 16 (3d10)

>>457056

NOBODY ELSE ROLL WE'RE DONE

Rolled 7, 7, 2, 10, 10, 1, 10, 4, 2 = 53 (9d10)

>>457057
>>457060
>>457063
27, 32, 26 against a DC of 24, that'll be a great success. Let's see how your lieutenants perform.

>>457066
Lt's have the same bonus and DC?

>>457066
>20, 29, 20
Pretty solid.

>>457069
Lieutenants each get +4 to command from being your lieutenants, with Cedrick getting an additional bonus.

>>457075
So are you rolling three tries for each lieutenant, or do they only get one try per NPC. So can they not achieve "Great" successes or do they function on a different scale?

>>457069
Oh, and the DC for your lieutenants was only 18, since they had fewer men under their command facing fewer enemies.

>>457077
I figure I'll have it such that NPCs don't get three tries on a roll, but for every four points by which they exceed the DC I'll tack on a little something extra.

>>457079
>>456566
>>456574
>>456582
>>456591
Fucking niggers kill yourself

>>457179
>Slavers
>Bastards
>Mercenaries

Yep, we're playing a fucking piece of shit. You got a problem senpai?

>>457181
Yes why didn't anyone tell me this quest existed? Looks like fun.

>>457179 reminds me
>Marry our slave girl and kill her brother
This is definitely a plan worth considering in the future, I don't want to give up our merc life but we can totally just sell off everything we inherit for sweet sweet gold. Maybe offer to split it 50/50 with the slave girl to encourage her to go along with it or just offer to free her in return. We can always divorce / murder her once we've got the gold.

>>457192
I know right? We should at the very least do some investigating and see if it's worth it.

>>457194
Like, if it's too much hassle then forget it. But her family sound wealthy, it should be pretty simple (especially if she goes along with it which I reckon she will given feelings towards her bro) and it'd be a fun way to kill some time between contracts.

>>457205
Would be funny to get a seat in the council of Myr and cancel the contract with the Bright Banners mercenaries... Don't fuck with our company or we will have your employer cancel on you :).

>>457226
If we had a seat in Myr we wouldnt have enough time to be a Sellsword captain.

shit getting fun haha omg the the shit about how the slave girl is going ot kill us ahha my side
now as she gets better at things we could get more womans and get a wmoan fighting forace/whores for assins mybe? should teach some fighting moves like dagger to the back or something

>>457194
>>457205
>>457192
with the whole kill her borther hmmm im down for chasing this up for all the moneys
but when we do. i think we should give her an offer something like this
now you get 50% of the things but you stay a slave with me but now you can buy nice things for yourslf or you give up your shair to me but youl become a free woman to do as you and offer her a job and pay her money as you do contracts as she would have joined your gruop but she dosnt have to fuck you or anyone if she dosnt want too. im really want to get sexy translators backstabers we can seal to otehrs more lots of money/keep and use them to kiss people we want dead assians womans, she can tech them and the man will have somethign t to fuck well there learning then they do as they want(e.g training is over and they become free/ work for you so men dont rape them now) what do people fell about this plan?

>>457305
Do you have a stroke or are you just a retarded redneck

>>457056
>Nobody seems particularly enthused about the return to Lys
>Roll me a 3d10, this is a command check
Huh, that pirate sure doesn't know how to ambush people...
so, we get backstabbed by that fellow, win the fight, take his ships, ask him why he did what he did and he reveals
"There's a bounty on your head, placed there by Lys." - nooooooo, backstabbed by the bigger player!

Thank you for running! Great read! Looking forward to more adventures of our morally impaired mercenary captain!

In retrospect, I should have broken this up into a series of rolls rather than just one big roll. That was really stupid on my part. Post is almost done though, after that I'll probably get some sleep, then continue in the morning.

Rolled 6, 5, 2 = 13 (3d10)

>>457328
>>457326
noop just spelling and grammer isnt my best thing
but since you frist thing to do is just to call me a retard you cant be all that yourslf there buddy no need to get salty over spelling

For the first hour or so, everything is peaceful. You think for a while that perhaps you misjudged Belero, or at the very least convinced him that getting into a fight with the Free Company of Andals and First Men wasn't worth the trouble it could cause him. You're within sight of Lys when all that changes, sitting up on deck with one of your knights and playing a game of cards. Your companion leaps suddenly to his feet and frees his blade from its sheath. You have the presence of mind to duck as he swings the heavy steel sword in a wide arc, burying it deep enough in a sailor's neck to very nearly sever it cleanly.

Your attacker is carried overboard by the force of the swing, his knife clattering to the deck once released from his lifeless fingers. The deck explodes into chaos and bloodshed as men pry boarding axes and heavy sabres from their belts, leaping into what is rapidly becoming a melee as your own men draw their weapons and charge aimlessly into the fray. This situation could rapidly spiral out of your control, if you let it.

”Form up and push for the stairwell! Defend the lower decks!” Your voice carries clearly over the growing din of battle. Your bastard sword finds its way into your hands, knuckles white around the hilt as you bash aside a clumsily swung sabre. Its wielder, a pirate with a nasty looking scar splitting his chin, has left himself so off-balance you need only thrust the blade forward to drive it through his gut, his momentum doing most of the work.

A kick frees you sword of the fresh corpse, and a quick glance behind you reveals your companions warding off three men wielding axes. Freed for a moment from any immediate threat you survey the battlefield, and are pleased to find that your men have cut a swathe through the swarming bands of pirates towards the lower decks. Spying an opportunity you launch yourself into the throng of axe-wielding pirates, laying into them with your blade. Your knight follows close on your heels, disemboweling one of his opponents. As that sorry bastard collapses screaming to the deck of the ship, the odds are rendered even.

You're preparing to launch your next assault to push past these meager defenders and join the rest of your men on the deck below when an arrow takes him through the throat. In the moments before the Stranger takes him his eyes fly wide, a strangled gasp escaping his bloodied lips, but in the next moment he collapses. You and your companion make quick work of the last pirate who dared to assault the Silver Bastard.

(1/4)

A team of a dozen archers appears at the aftcastle's railing, their bowstrings already drawn. “Get below decks!” You slip reflectively into the common tongue, but your warning isn't quite enough to save all your men. Those standing nearest the stairwell managed to dive below but those further away are left with little recourse. You throw yourself onto the deck just as an arrow thuds into the railing just behind where you'd been standing, but your fellow card player isn't nearly so lucky. Were it not for the steel cuirass strapped across his chest, he'd be a dead man.

When this latest assault ends you force yourself to your feet, a mad dash to the stairwell seems your only hope of escaping the top deck alive. Fortunately the path your men cleared remains opened, and you're welcomed with a great cheer the moment you burst through the line of your men guarding the stairs to the lower decks. “I want spearmen guarding the stairs! The rest of you, get the captives to the bottom deck with the horses and cut the Summer Islanders free! Arm them with whatever weapons you can scrounge up!”

It's only as you finally get the chance to sit down and assess the situation that you realize your companion hasn't made it. Perhaps he's still trapped above deck, but more than likely the man is dead. Sir Alvar Waters, you think his name was. Truthfully you should have paid closer attention.

You find yourself quickly surrounded by a growing mass of freed oarsmen. No time to rest, then. “How many of you speak the Common Tongue?” The question is met with a few raised hands, but not many.

”What about Valyrian?” That, at least, gets a response of some sort from most of the assembled Islanders. Many of them are holding snapped off lengths of wood taken from the oars they rowed, or boarding axes from felled pirates. You also spy a fair few belaying pins and other such improvised weapons, but sadly no bows among them. Nor have you see any of the archers assigned to the Salty Whore, few as they were.

”I speak as a man betrayed, know that there is no love between myself and the captain of this ship.” A sudden war cry distracts you from the men and women arrayed before you, but the impromptu assault is quickly repelled by the bristling wall of speartips protruding from the stairs. A dozen men or more charge to their deaths, their bodies forming a grizzly barricade. ”He is a scoundrel, a dog, and if I have any say in the matter he'll be dead within the hour.”

(2/4)

Some among the crowd shout their support, others translate what you've said for those not versed in the dragon tongue. ”I offer you this: your freedom, on one the condition. Fight for me here. Afterwards should any of you wish for a place among my free company, you will have it. If instead you wish to return to your homes and live a life of obscurity, then by all means feel free. Yet in this moment, against the men who have tortured and beat you for untold months at sea, I ask you to fight in my name. When their corpses decorate the ship's railing your fate will be your own.”

At the conclusion of your little speech, a large man wielding a heavy sabre steps from the crowd. He's well above six feet tall, a giant of a man if you've ever seen one even emaciated by hard months spent at sea. “We will fight you, Westerosi.” He declares in broken common, his voice rich and booming. You sincerely hope he's forgetting a 'with'. “But know this, the bow is mine. In the Captain's chambers. I will kill any man who takes it from me.”

You extend your hand and he takes it in his own crushing grip. As a matter or pride, you keep your expression carefully neutral. “An agreement, then. The bow in exchange for your service.” He releases you at long last, and you carefully flex your fingers to make sure nothing's broken. “My knights and I will charge the aftcastle while you and yours will make sure nobody can come up from behind us-”

You're interrupted by a sudden, rapid pounding upon the deck above, followed soon after by the screams of dying men. Curious, you slide across the bench to peek through one of the many ports dotting its surface. In glimpses you're able to make out Islanders standing upon the deck of one of the smaller galleys, Sir Cedrick Storm standing at its helm, a dagger held to the throat of the man guiding the rudder. You watch as the Islanders draw back on the strings of enormous golden bows, the release marked moments later by the heavy impact of arrows against the hull.

As they ready a third volley, pirates begin to stream down from the top deck only to meet their demise at the hands of your soldiers. The tide of the battle has turned, that much is clear. Standing from the rower's bench you nod briefly to the giant of a man before you and rejoin your knights where they've gathered just behind the slim ranks of spearmen holding the stairs. The men part readily, allowing you to maneuver your way up to the front.

When the rain of arrows strikes the deck a third time you shove your way past the spearmen, who quickly get the picture. ”Onwards, to gold and glory!” Comes the triumphant cry, echoed by the entire host of your men. The Islanders shout out their own incomprehensible warcry as they charge up the stairs behind you, the tide of your men washing over what few panicked sailors remained in any condition to fight after Sir Cedrick's bombardment.
(3/4)

With the deck cleared you move rapidly to the door which marks the entrance to the officer's cabins, but unfortunately it's been bared from the inside. Taking up the boarding axes of their fallen captors the Summer Islanders lay into the sturdy wooden door frame, hacking away until little of it remains. It's when the hinges finally break that the door collapses outward and what few defenders remain are washed away under a tide of wrathful former captives.

While they willfully slaughter the officers you turn your attention instead to the other galleys which once composed Belero's fleet. One has struck north, perhaps destined for Tyrosh, but the four others are firmly under the control of your own men. Deprived of rowers you've been drifting slowly towards Lys under the power of a stiff breeze.

You'd be content to stand a moment upon the blood-slicked deck, but a hand upon your shoulder draws you from your thoughts. “Captain Lucerys, we've not found Belero among the dead.”

>Tell them to keep looking. In the meantime, set course for Lys.
>Assign some of your men to the oars, you need to catch that fleeing galley.
>Write-in

Ehhh, still feels kinda shitty but it's good enough.

>>457359
>Write-in
FREE ME WILL WE RETURN TO OUR HOMES? OR WILL WE GIVE CHASE TO THE DOG WHO DID THIS TO YOU? WILL YOU ROW FOR HIS HEAD! As we gesture towards the fleeing ship. IF HE LIVES HE WILL SEEK VENGEANCE

>>457359
>Assign some of your men to the oars, you need to catch that fleeing galley.
Anyone who dare crosses the silver bastard must die!

>>457359
>Assign some of your men to the oars, you need to catch that fleeing galley.

>>457359
>>Assign some of your men to the oars, you need to catch that fleeing galley.

>>457359
>>Assign some of your men to the oars, you need to catch that fleeing galley.

How many did he have?

5 or 6 ships?

if we dont kill him i will just go back to raiding your villagers and other kins man time to end this

>>457359
>>Assign some of your men to the oars, you need to catch that fleeing galley.
Get the former slaves to help, they have more experience to get the ships speeding up and their friends are manning that fleeing galley's oars... that should be incentive enough to get them moving.

We'll have enough ships to get some slaves home and our mercenary company to sail to Daenerys Stormborn - or her enemies, depending on who's winning.

>>457355
>a large man wielding a heavy sabre steps from the crowd
We want that man to join us!

btw do we have to free our slaves now too? The former slaves probably won't take kindly to us forcing the villagers to get off in Lys... or are they?

>>457352
>Your companion leaps suddenly to his feet Good men, they kept their vigilance up for hours.

>within sight of Lys
They're either contracted by Myr in retaliation or Lys (because they don't want to pay outstanding debts?)...

>>457403
>Dany "I can't rule" Stormborn
Nah, Stannis is where the money is, his army is mercenary heavy and we can always abandon him if he does shit

>>457406
>Stannis
But he's far away, no? I would prefer some contract that's closer - and in a warmer climate.

Still can't really understand Belero Ormyl motivation to let armed men on all his ships to then try to kill those men with lightly armed sailors, pirates... it's like he wanted to lose?

>>457406
>wanting to get rekt by twenty good men™

>>457409
>Implying the show is cannon
Stannis gonna rekt the bastard and we're gonna swim in iron bank gold

>>457408
Clearly he is not a clever man.

Beyond that I'm guessing he was banking on the archers being the deciding factor. I'm guessing he assumed we wouldn't be bedding down given how long it takes to get to Lys, unless he strung out Rhett voyage but that would have tipped Lucerys' paranoia off. That or he was hoping we'd take the bait and toss everyone on the one cog and he'd sacrifice it killing everyone at once. The money he'd make back in our slaves and horses probably would have made up the difference and then the fat paycheck from whomever is bankrolling him.

I'm guessing he just took his chances and bailed. But hey, free Summer Islers. Let's just hope Nararo Aros isn't around.

>>457359
>Assign some of your men to the oars, you need to catch that fleeing galley.
Holy shit we need to kill this guy.
If the islanders get fussy about us having slaves, we can always claim we were just hired to take them (not a lie, had to raize that village) and try to direct blame towards management, seeing as we were just doing our job. Gotta make a living somehow.

Also sleep well Triarch! Really liking this quest so far, despite others shitposting.

>>457359
>Assign some of your men to the oars, you need to catch that fleeing galley.

>>457457
Just give them one of the ships and send them away. Dont think we hve time, energy or men to deal with them.

>>457359
>Pursue that fucking galley.
Use a big inspiring speech to the oars slaves about the prospect of imminent freedom and revenge when we catch it.

I'm also nervous as to why they waited until we were this close to Lys, the city could be less safe than we think.

>>457552
>>457359
Also.
Direct our crew and crews on other ships to continue looking for Belero among the dead / hiding in some smuggling compartment like a bitch.

Once this has settled I'm puttting in a vote for trying to convince the summer islanders to join our warband BUT we do NOT let them get prissy about us selling the other slaves we've got. If they've got an issue with that then we'll sail close to shore and they can fucking swim home.

>>457558
Reasonable. Hopefully they won't get super idealistic and know this is just how Essos works and it's just our job.

>>457562
Take those that are willing to work and dump the rest.

>>457558
Hell even a couple dozen would be a good fucking pick up. I'm guessing 50 Max on a good persuasion roll.

Think it would be pretty great to just slowly start collecting a powerful company sourcing from all over. Having some myrish crossbowmen and bolstering our Westerosi mounted Knight count would be aces.

>>457565
This
Dump them somewhere inhospitable, they know that such is life in essos

So we're going to take advantage of some poor lysini noble girl when we get back to town right?

>>457962
>Inhospitable
Dude we are right next to Lys. Just let them out and let them do their own thing if they don't want to join. Simple

>>457977
I am sure the local guard would be a great fan of us if we did.

File: Lys.jpg (67 KB, 736x775)

67 KB JPG

A vile rage twist through your gut at the news of Belero's escape, but you steady yourself. You cannot let yourself be ruled be emotion, certainly not now. “Check the walls for any hidden compartments which they might have used to smuggle goods, he may simply be hiding. Failing that, check the waters around the ship to make sure he hasn't merely leaped overboard.”

The man's footsteps pound against the wooden deck as he retreats. You cast a glance briefly towards the elegantly constructed palaces of Lys looming in the distance. You're probably no more than a half hour from the city's docks, why wait until you were so close to the city before stabbing you in the back? Was it merely that your men gave him pause, or does your employer think it better to kill you than pay you?

Belatedly the realization strikes you that you're bleeding, though the wound is but a minor thing. A slash across your ribs, the padded cloth of your gambeson discolored a shade darker than the rest. Pressing your hand to the slashed fabric, your hand comes away wet. You don't know whether or not you're still bleeding, but regardless the pain is easily ignored. Perhaps you'd not escaped those archers as unscathed as you'd thought?

Turning sharply, you march sword in hand towards the smashed remnants of the doorway to the officer's cabins. You find the enormous Islander in what you can only imagine are Belero's own quarters, decorated as they are with all manner of charts, banners, and trophies. He cradles in his hands a bow the likes of which you've never seen, made of the same golden wood as those of the archers under Sir Cedrick's command. It's enormous, nearly as large as you are tall, and the arrows accompanying it look more like something designed for ballistae than a bow.

The Islander barely glances up as you enter, so taken is he with the weapon. You can only imagine this was the bow he was talking about. “Belero has made good on his escape, slipped from the deck at some point during the fighting and fled to one of the smaller galleys. They're destined for Tyrosh, I'm sure of it, but perhaps with the help of you and your men we might yet catch him.”

“What is for me, Westerosi?” He draws back on the bow's string experimentally, absent an arrow. “Sweetest vengeance be a life lived knowing we his betters.”

His accent makes it terribly difficult to understand him, but you think you more or less got the gist. “You don't know Belero as I do. He cares nothing for the loss of his men or his ships, he'll merely start again as he has a dozen times before. He's neither clever nor talented, but if nothing else he's determined.”

(1/2)

“I fight you, Westerosi.” The giant stands, slinging the quiver of arrows over one broad shoulder. “But when it over, I will command my own men. Many die on journey, but seven tens remain. We swear to you for good pay, six pieces of gold. Agree?”

You only pay your knights eight gold a month, and they're your best men. Of course, seventy Summer Islanders could be quite the powerful force indeed, especially if you can get your hands on a supply of Goldenheart Bows. Judging by the fact that Sir Cedrick's men wield them that seems like a distinct possibility.

>Agree to take on the enormous Islander as your lieutenant, and pay his men six gold each for their services.
>Try to convince the giant to have his subordinates take up the oars one last time, to put an end to Belero's raids once and for all.
>You're wasting time with this lumbering oaf, assign your own men to the oars. How hard could it really be to row a galley?
>Write-in

>>458936
>Agree to take on the enormous Islander as your lieutenant, and pay his men six gold each for their services.
>Try to convince the giant to have his subordinates take up the oars one last time, to put an end to Belero's raids once and for all.
As a show of good faith we can some of our men on the oars too just to show them that they are equal within our warband.

>>458936
>>Agree to take on the enormous Islander as your lieutenant, and pay his men six gold each for their services.

We're going to be rolling in money with these ships

>>458936
>Agree to take on the enormous Islander as your lieutenant, and pay his men six gold each for their services.
>Try to convince the giant to have his subordinates take up the oars one last time, to put an end to Belero's raids once and for all.
Fucking scum must die

>>458962
I suggest we torture, mutilate Belero once we get him and put his head on the mast so everyone knows better than to cross you

>>458936
>Agree to take on the enormous Islander as your lieutenant, and pay his men six gold each for their services.
>Try to convince the giant to have his subordinates take up the oars one last time, to put an end to Belero's raids once and for all.

>>458954
Should fetch a good price.

>>458954
>>459021
Maybe we should keep one or two ? Granted maitaining them and feeding the rowers might not be worth it. Not to mention docking fees. But we could more easily transport ourselves from city to city.

>>458936
>>Agree to take on the enormous Islander as your lieutenant, and pay his men six gold each for their services.
They're not only good bowmen, but also sailors, right? Of course, we wouldn't be captain if we didn't try to haggle it down some.
>>Try to convince the giant to have his subordinates take up the oars one last time, to put an end to Belero's raids once and for all.
We want to catch that galley, not just exhaust our men. The Islanders have the muscles to move this ship!

>>458950
>>458954
>>458962
>>459021
>>459028
>Accept his terms.

To be clear, accepting his terms entails the Islanders taking up the oars again.
https://pastebin.com/8FZviHh0
Updated company sheet as well.

>>459025
Def. keep some, we want to get another contract somewhere else - and these ships will get us there.

>>459025
We'll have to see the logistics in keeping some when we get into port but I am about it if it's feasible.

>>459025
You could probably fit all of your men comfortably on the Salty Whore and one of the smaller galleys. Assuming that the Summer Islanders will be doing most of the actual sailing, of course. You'd probably need to hire on some additional rowers though.

>>459030
>We lost 90 men to Belero's treachery


Yeah, nah

Fucking kill that faggot

>>459040
Sounds good. Then we sell the rest.

>>459030
What does 87/105 mean?

That many slaves die or are they on the 5th ship?

>>459050
You have in your possession 87 out of the 105 slaves you started with (subtracting one from the initial 106, on account of Sereya). The remaining 18 slaves are on the fleeing galley, but presumably still healthy. It wouldn't make much sense for Belero to kill them.

>>458921
>your gambeson discolored a shade darker than the rest
Fucking disaster! You had a feeling you should have dressed in armor this morning. Now your dest quilted jacket stained! There is no way you are going to get that out without ruining the color. This shit is almost enough to make you want to...to...fucking flay some arsehole!

>>459042
>https://pastebin.com/DTu7rFAQ
:/ and our best men, knights and squires!
After he tells us who his employer is, his head will decorate a spear!

>>459064
Shit! The assholes ruined our best shirt!

Kill the fucker. Rough fuck the whore, land in Lys and buy new clothes before meeting our contract.

That should be the plan

>>459064
>ruining the color
Ah, so true. We still have a meeting with our Lys employers... can't appear before them looking like a bloody beggar who can't afford decent clothers!

>>459067
We're gonna kill him, and we're gonna make it slow

File: Galley.jpg (265 KB, 1920x802)

265 KB JPG

You hold out your hand, and once more the Islander takes it in his crushing grip. “Very well, consider yourself one of my lieutenants. You may have command of your own men so long as you serve in my company.”

The Islander's face splits into a toothy grin as he releases you. “The call me Babhar, my Prince.”

“Lucerys, the Silver Bastard by reputation.” You turn sharply, leaving the various other treasures, a finely jeweled sabre among them, to be collected upon after you've caught that bastard and strung him up the main mast by his shriveled testicles. “I trust you know how to sail a ship?”

Indeed he does. With the giant of a man in your employ it's only a matter of a few minutes before the enormous wargalley is shooting across the waves, one of his Islanders keeping a steady hand upon the ship's rudder. You assigned some of your own men to assist the rowers, as a show of good faith and to foster some sort of bond between your new recruits and your old. Babhar himself seems to be coordinating the fleet with a series of wild gestures, his arms waving frantically to get the attention of the men aboard the other galleys.

Eventually someone aboard Sir Cedrick's ship gets the picture, a dark skinned islander rushing up onto the aftcastle to speak with the man himself. He shouts some distant order, rendered unintelligible by the distance involved, and the man steering the rudder quickly guides the vessel to fall in line behind your own. The other three ships you've captured from Belero's fleet quickly follow suit, and soon your impromptu fleet moves as one.

Unfortunately the fleeing galley enjoys quite the head start, and though you're gaining slowly you can already tell catching up to Belero and his pirates will be no easy task. You stand upon the foredeck quietly fuming, your men having long ago collected the bodies of the slain sailors and hung them from the railing as a grizzly reminder of what happens to those who betray the Silver Bastard. Your own dead have been collected in the former officer's cabins, to be buried or burned once you reach Lys.

“We switch the rowers, they be fresh and we switch them back.” Babhar's voice distracts you from your own private thoughts, “The pirate's own grow tired and slow, we not. Yes?”

>It's a fine idea, give Babhar permission to assign whomever he wishes to work the oars.
>No, you'd rather keep your own men fresh for the battle rather than risk driving them to exhaustion below deck.
>Dump the corpses, the furniture, anything that isn't nailed down or particularly valuable. Lighten the load on the rowers.
>Write-in

>>459193
>It's a fine idea, give Babhar permission to assign whomever he wishes to work the oars.
Keep a good rotation.

>Dump the corpses of only the enemy combatants.

>>459193
>>It's a fine idea, give Babhar permission to assign whomever he wishes to work the oars.
Sure. He is outnumbered and we have best archers, we only need to board for mopping up. Unless they hole up downstairs in which case ... fire?

>>459193
>>Dump the corpses, the furniture, anything that isn't nailed down or particularly valuable. Lighten the load on the rowers.

All of this save for our own dead.

and

>It's a fine idea, give Babhar permission to assign whomever he wishes to work the oars.

I'm also assuming we won't starve to death at sea for this detour

>>459193
>It's a fine idea, give Babhar permission to assign whomever he wishes to work the oars.
>Dump the corpses, the furniture, anything that isn't nailed down or particularly valuable. Lighten the load on the rowers.

>>459207
>>459221
>>459223
>A fine idea.

>>459223
>>459221
>>459207
>Dump the the pirate corpses, the furniture, et cetera.

I'll write for both.

>>459210
Not sure how I managed to miss this vote.

>>459277
Are you still writing for both?

>>459333
Patience. This particular QM takes time with his updates.

>>459336
Not asking him to hurry, just asking if this >>459210
>>459272
is gonna change the outcome of the post.

>>459376
Nah, I'm still writing for both.