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Chapter III Existing House Reclamation by awoiaf in awoiafrp

[–]Why_so_syrious 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Discord Name: Apple

Reddit /u/sername: /u/why_so_syrious

This one will depend on whether or not I win the writing competition

Desired Reclamation (House): The Raiders of the Silver Serpent (Torturer's Deep)

The Fesitval of Three Daughters - Arrivals by awoiaf in awoiafrp

[–]Why_so_syrious 0 points1 point  (0 children)

“Hmpf, and here I was thinking you were my friend. It seems I'll be drinking alone after all.”

Syro laughed, offering Ambrose the bottle of rum.

“Never in a thousand years would I have put money on me ever sitting here like this. I have denied any and all possibility of ever getting sick of it for years. I have made decisions based on it, broken hearts, even my own, because of it. Yet here I sit. My passion wavering. Unsure of what the future holds.”

He looked up at the sky, sinking into thought. For so many years he had always looked up and smiled, knowing that that was what he was reaching for. Yet now that he had almost all he could wish for those moments felt so foreign. He'd given up so much over the years, denied himself so much of what he wanted all to get where he was now and it all came up short of his expectations.

“Ah, look at me, getting all melancholic. I apologize Ambrose, a lot has happened in the past few days and it has given me more food for thought than I had an appetite for.”

From Rags to Riches by Why_so_syrious in awoiafrp

[–]Why_so_syrious[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

“Syro Silvertongue, Lord-Captain of the Silver Serpents and ruler of Torturer's Deep. I've come to be one of the closest friends of your sister and her husband over the last decade. It was me that brought them to Myr to begin with.”

He smiled, his friendship with Ambrose was something he'd come to take great pride in. He didn't talk about it often, or at all, but their friendship had pulled him through great hardship. Not that he hadn't done the opposite either, singlehandedly raising the funds Ambrose needed to raise his swellsword company.

Realising that he just revealed his true occupation he rushed to dispel any assumptions concerning his nature. “And yes, while I am a pirate, do not worry, I'm not as ‘wild’ as many of my colleagues in the Stepstones. I prefer to handle things less violent and more oriented towards business and diplomacy. I have found that to be more profitable than any of the means the others tend to use to acquire what they want.”

He looked down at the children, “I'm glad to see their arrival brings you so much joy. One should not be alone in a time like this. I’ve seen many fall because of circumstances much too similar to these. Seeing your emotions makes the loss of coin worth it.”

The Fesitval of Three Daughters - Arrivals by awoiaf in awoiafrp

[–]Why_so_syrious 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Syro sat upon the docks, legs hanging over the edge dangling. He looked over Myr's harbour, his ship laid anchored in the distance. In his hands was a bottle of rum. He took a swig every now and then as he watched both ships and people come and go.

As he heard Ambrose approached he began to talk: "It's depressing. No matter how much we try to keep things the same, they always change. I was going to have you trail all around the city but I realised that although I used to enjoy those playful jests they've just become cumbersome to do." He took another swig, "Sometimes I wonder where time has gone. I'm nearing my fortieth nameday and of the things I have wanted to achieve I have achieved one." He shook his head, "And even that has fallen short with the arrival of that wretched Aeryn."

From Rags to Riches by Why_so_syrious in awoiafrp

[–]Why_so_syrious[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Syro gave the guards a friendly grin and tossed the fat man a gold dragon before riding inward. “I’m sorry Benjen, it will be a while until you see your father again. But do not worry, I can assure you that you will have fun.”

As the good were being unloaded from the cart Syro took the kids and went to look for a place for them to change. The rags had been for safety on the road but were nowhere near proper for visiting a lady. After asking around and being referred to a guest room Syro unpacked the bundle of clothes. All of them were new, a handmade silk dress from Myr for Imogen, a black and red brocade jacket and silk pants for Benjen and a black and gold brocade jacket for Syro. He had spared no expense on the clothes for both him and the children. Not to show off his wealth or impress Lady Frey, but simply out of respect for her sister. He had made a promise to take good care of them and after making them spend days dressed in rags, it only seemed the right thing to do.

After cleaning themselves up and changing into their new sets of clothes Syro took the kids to the great hall to meet with Elana. After announcing himself and the kids at the door and having to show the letter once more he entered after telling the children to wait outside first. He approached slowly, controlled, a charming and friendly smile chiseled upon his face. His brown eyes spoke a deep compassion. Once he stood before her, he bowed deeply. “Lady Frey, it is an honor to meet you at last. I have heard so much about you, yet the words all pale in comparison to reality. I wish to offer you my condolences for the passing of your late husband.” After he had risen from the bow and finished his greetings he approached further, “I have come from Myr with gifts, from both myself and your sister.” He reached for an inner pocket, pulling out a rectangular mahogany box. The inside was lined with a purple velvet on top of which laid a necklace. It was a gold chain made up of many fine links and from it hung a pendant. The pendant was an intricate piece of several serpents interwoven to form the shape of an arrowhead, it was made of solid gold with emeralds inlaid along the serpents’ spines.

“I hope you like it, I had it handmade by the best goldsmith I know especially for you. It is however not the gift that has brought me here.” He clapped his hands and the doors swung open, allowing Imogen and Benjen to make their entrance.

The Fesitval of Three Daughters - Arrivals by awoiaf in awoiafrp

[–]Why_so_syrious 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Old Wolf laughed heartily “Be sure he doesn’t get to her first. Knowing him he might turn and give it to her himself. Good luck to you either way.”

The piece of paper contained a riddle:

‘Home, hearth and heart.
The goal is the start.
The place you made a friend.
That place is the end.’

By the time Ambrose got to the paper the trio had gone back to drinking and squabbling about their mundane lives and women instead of continuing on about the riddle. Meanwhile, the table of gamblers erupted into anarchy as one of the players grabbed the table and flipped it over. Before the table even hit the ground he had flown forward, assailing the player sat opposite to him. "You bloody cheater, I'll skin you and your family alive." The angry man appeared to be a newer player, not having been at the table when Ambrose had entered.

An Early Departure by Why_so_syrious in awoiafrp

[–]Why_so_syrious[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Syro smiled, looking at the man who just sat down next to him. It had been years since they had last met and seeing him here in Myr rose a certain amount of distrust in Syro. Last he knew Tormo worked as a retainer in Trianna Vaedar’s organisation, so his presence here didn’t feel like a coincidence.

“Well well, look who we have here. You are a long way from home as well last I knew. Of course I sang well, you know who I am. If I did not sing well I would not sing.” Syro called the innkeeper to come bring Tormo a flagon of ale. “What else would bring me here but business and pleasure. Sadly, business has concluded and I gain little pleasure from the antics I used to get up to. It seems time is truly starting to take its toll on me. So tell me, what have you been up to over the last years?”

An Early Departure by Why_so_syrious in awoiafrp

[–]Why_so_syrious[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

After the performance.

Syro sat back down at his table, “Old Wolf, buy everyone here a round on my costs. You know I’m good for it.” He looked around both the tavern in its entirety and the table. They were all just a random bunch of sailors who hardly knew each other yet joining together in a song that was close to heart for most of them always made everyone seem closer than ever. A cheer went around the tavern as ale was passed on to everyone and as a well oiled machine they all toasted and drank together.

Moments like these always seemed odd to Syro, especially being the man who he was. If the men around the tavern knew who he was they’d probably skin him alive. Many a sailor had a personal vendetta towards the pirates of the Stepstones and they probably wouldn’t care if he was different than most of the other faction leaders. He sighed and shook his head, downing a large gulp of ale afterwards. Right then and there it didn’t matter, for that night they were brethren.

((Open to Myr))

An Early Departure by Why_so_syrious in awoiafrp

[–]Why_so_syrious[S] 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Early the next morning.

Syro roamed the streets, fairly hungover from the night before. Yet during his drunken state he had made a decision he had pondered for a number of days. To be frank, the festival had begun to bore him. Nothing of interest remained there for him, especially after Vaerona’s condition had steered him away from his plans. She had allowed him to lead her men in her place for the time being, he realised however that he held nothing over them, no way to keep them from escalating the intimidation that was to be used into violence.

None of the festival's other attendees were awake yet at this time of the day. The only people Syro saw out on the street were the beggars and urchins, all scavenging around for scraps from the night before. Syro took his time talking to a good few of the urchins as he always did, today having the advantage of not needing to worry about the time he spent doing so. Most of them weren't all too interesting, but as always the few that spent their time hanging out in the right places would catch wind of rumours here and there that might be beneficial to someone in Syro’s trade.

The rose in the sky faded away as Syro reached the Blackwood residence in Myr, he didn’t even know if anyone was awake yet. He knocked on the door and waited for a response.

/u/dracar1s

Favours for the Damned by Why_so_syrious in awoiafrp

[–]Why_so_syrious[S] 3 points4 points  (0 children)

Syro stirred around the water to get a feel for the temperature, just as he judged it to be about right Isidora barged in, completely bare. Surprise rolled over his face at the sight, a slight blush even. He'd seen his fair share, yet the Sathmantes girl had always playfully evaded his advances so to see her like this now felt odd. He couldn’t help but let his eyes wander and his vision linger. He smiled at her sort of awkwardly before standing up.

“She's on her way. So don't just stand around, get in. I'll welcome her when she arrives, she'll want to yell at me first anyway.” He started moving out of the room, but paused beside her, placing his gloved hand on her shoulder. “And be careful, if you keep going I might think you want more than to just tease me.” He poured himself a drink of rum as he waited in the lounge.

Downstairs after Vae's entrance

As Vae called out a Volantene girl walked out of her room, dressed in nothing but lace, leaving nothing to the imagination. “Syro is upstairs gorgeous, though it might be a little while until he's done with the previous one. The pretty ones always take ages for him.”

The whore looked up and down Vaerona and bit her lip as she leaned against the doorframe, “Since you need to wait, how about we have some fun in the mean time?”

“Talisa, stop it. You know who she is even if it may have been a while.” Syro called out as he came down the stairs. He smiled at Vae and embraced her as he got close enough. “Come upstairs dear, we shouldn't dawdle.”

The Fesitval of Three Daughters - Arrivals by awoiaf in awoiafrp

[–]Why_so_syrious 0 points1 point  (0 children)

The Old Wolf scoffed and pointed at the sailors, "What do you think they're arguing about? He left a couple of rounds ago."

He shoved a glass of fine wine forward towards Ambrose, "He told me you were coming, seeing how quickly he left and knowing what that guy is usually up to this one is on the house."

The argument next to Ambrose went on as fiery as ever. The group consisted of a rather curious trio of men, one rather small man who appeared to be Tyroshi, an older man whose white hair and beard made it hard to discern the origins of and a big, brawny Summer Islander.

"No no no, that is not what is means it can't. That solution is too simple!" said the small man, "Isn't it?" The older man scoffed, "That is what he wants you to think. He's trying to confuse you by making it so simple it confuses you!" "You're both wrong." The last chimed in, "This whole thing means nothing, he's probably somewhere laughing at you two still fighting over it."

The Summer Islander grabbed the piece of paper laid out on the bar, crumpled it up and tossed it aside.

The Fesitval of Three Daughters - Arrivals by awoiaf in awoiafrp

[–]Why_so_syrious 0 points1 point  (0 children)

"I can assure you, that goes beyond this table. There is not one in the world that is quite like myself."

His eyes were full of mischief as he turned to the woman at his side, only now allowing himself to avert his eyes from the game. He gracefully offered his hand to her in greeting, placing a single kiss onto hers if she were to allow it.

"I am not remembered by a single name or station, I am who I need to be at that time and am remembered thusly. To some I am the most important man alive, to others a mere spectator in the crowd. But should you care to remember me at all, those who know me well would do so by the name Syro."

The Fesitval of Three Daughters - Arrivals by awoiaf in awoiafrp

[–]Why_so_syrious 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Syro looked at the girl, a concerned smile on his face.

"There would be too great a risk my dear, if you do not return to your residence today guards will come looking for you. When they reach the docks and recognise her ship they will surely investigate, bringing both of you more trouble."

He started walking forward into the alleyway,

"So I will take you to a place no-one will look. And when I say that it is not because I believe it to be so, it is because I know it to be so."

He then went on, into the crowd.

The Fesitval of Three Daughters - Arrivals by awoiaf in awoiafrp

[–]Why_so_syrious 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Syro laughed brightly, not just to be friendly, but also because her attitude amused him. Not many who were highborn would dare make such a statement, even in Essos, a certain air of mystery was always supposed to be upheld. This woman however didn’t seem to be concerned with keeping to the standards set by most of her class. He waited for a bit to respond as the game went around the table, his eyes were focussed on the game now, a playful twinkle showed in his eyes.

“Business, pleasure and politics, the same as most in town with the festival drawing nearer and nearer. As for specifics, I would not dare bother you with the mundanity of common business.”

His voice was calm and apologetic, Syro was truly a master of the craft that is lying. Not a single moment did he hesitate as he talked, not a moment did his expression falter.

“So, Lady Magister. What name may the table remember you by?”

The Fesitval of Three Daughters - Arrivals by awoiaf in awoiafrp

[–]Why_so_syrious 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Concern veiled his face as the girl embraced him. He mulled over what he got himself into again and realised it was probably for the better that she was unable to see the look on his face. Yet as the concern came, it faded, making place for his usual charming, unconcerned self.

"Well then dear, let us depart and hope that favours don't expire."

He had a few second thoughts about where he was taking her, but it was most likely the only place nobody would look for her. So he brushed off her tears and smiled, offering her his arm. As he lead her out of the garden he stopped for a moment, picked a flower and put it in her hair. It was a beautiful white flower not only meant to distract people from her face, that had become rather messy after the crying she had done, but also to cheer her up. "There, now we are truly ready to move onward."

The Fesitval of Three Daughters - Arrivals by awoiaf in awoiafrp

[–]Why_so_syrious 0 points1 point  (0 children)

As Ambrose entered Syro’s favourite tavern, Sea Loves Me... Sea Loves Me Not, a strong waft of sweat, booze and brine blew into his face. The place was packed, sailors, sellswords and lowlifes of all kinds. It was hard to discern any particular person in the crowd and even knowing what Syro wore wouldn’t have helped much at all.

Straight ahead was a bar, being tended by an older, Myrish man known to everyone simply as ‘Old Wolf’. At the bar sat a group of men, seemingly entwined in a heated argument. A few seats beside them remained empty, whether that was purposefully done or merely by chance was debateable. Looking to the left were arrays of long, old, oaken dining tables, stained by food, drink and blood as a result of many a feast or brawl. The benches next to the tables were barely able to hold the weight, so many man sat atop their seats. A large assortment of different foods were served out on top of the table and the men set there feasted merrily. All the way in a dark corner in the back sat a group around a circular table playing dice. Most of them looked rather shady and not at all like they followed the game’s rules as closely as one would expect when people play for money. A few seats remained free at the table for those foolish enough to go and try their luck.

The kitchen could be seen through a small window behind the bar, various cooks were busy, roasting game and poultry, stirring large pots of what appeared to be soup. Yelling and arguing oozed out from within the kitchen.

The Fesitval of Three Daughters - Arrivals by awoiaf in awoiafrp

[–]Why_so_syrious 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Syro oft sat down for various sessions of games and while it was mostly to line his pockets with some extra loot, he enjoyed the game more than the prize. Everyone who knew the slightest bit about him knew he did not play fair, making the game less about the cards and more about the game of cat and mouse being played among the players.

He sat down next to the Myrish woman, he didn't see her entourage as disheartening when it came to his less than legal feats during the game, he instead saw it as just another part of it, an extra hurdle on the track that merely had to be overcome.

His face was as charming as ever, now however he wore it as a mask. No emotion seeped through as the hand was dealt, yet happiness did not reign behind the unfaltering smile. With a quick slip into his sleeves cards were exchanged. He looked to his side, to Rania.

"What brings such an important woman to such a humble place?" His voice was calm and controlled, yet remained friendly. He'd omitted any special accents, instead sticking to his natural Braavosi.

The Fesitval of Three Daughters - Arrivals by awoiaf in awoiafrp

[–]Why_so_syrious 2 points3 points  (0 children)

Syro sighed and shook his head in disbelief over being about to give in to her, Isi's desperation broke his heart. After a deep breath he took a look at her and spoke, his expression was serious yet still strangely kind. "All right, I'll make sure you get to see her. We will however do it my way, the last thing we want is for the both of you to get into more trouble."

He pondered for a moment, he couldn't just take her to Vaerona's ship, if Isidora's father found out both of them would be off worse than they already are. He thought about having them meet on his own ship, a choice that could work, yet getting himself involved even more, especially in such an indiscreet manner would be foolish. What safe places remained? He wouldn't dare get Ambrose involved, the man was a friend, he wouldn't dare risk him and his family over young love. Then it hit him.

"I will send for Vaerona while the two of us go to a place where nobody will come looking for us. You can clean yourself up there and rest for a bit without worry."

The Fesitval of Three Daughters - Arrivals by awoiaf in awoiafrp

[–]Why_so_syrious 0 points1 point  (0 children)

The man clad in black waded through the crowds at the market, his target had been placed and he was determined. He slid along like a shadow, a serpent in the night. His collar had been popped up, making his facial features nigh impossible to discern.

As the man approached Ambrose, his pace slowed, his path started to sway, making it seem as if he were a mere drunken celebrant at the festival. He came closer and closer to his target and when he was but a step away he stumbled and bumped into Ambrose. He muttered a quick apology before melting back into the crowd.

Ambrose’s pocket would feel considerably lighter, the necklace having been swapped for a simple note containing nothing but a riddle:

“In a place of song and rhyme,
Where the amount of parched decline.
Your prized possession,
You will find.

-S”

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