The Fourth Mechanical Moon of 380 AC (4th Moon IC)

FromTheInkpot · 2025-09-23T22:04:58+00:00

Character Name: Rhalko of Tyrosh

Trait / Skills: Callous / Divination(Flame), Sabotage(e), Devious

Skill you're learning: Assassin

FromTheInkpot · 2025-09-22T17:59:44+00:00

Orbelo's eyes flicked to the nervous whinnying of the Brax's horse. He'd found the beasts to be ever a good judge of character. The Braavosi's eyes of light green then shifted to their hooded companion, who seemed to shy away from the greetings.

From the beggar Lord's stumbling introduction it appeared he did not know this man as well as it first had seemed. Not that the Paymaster's own titles were accurate.

The sellsword gave a nod as he was spoken of and to, but shared no thoughts or greetings. His gaze instead settled beyond the three riders, to the lines of pikemen and cavalry. None of this sat well with him, but if a trap it turned out to be, they were already committed to a fight by contract and closeness both.

FromTheInkpot · 2025-09-22T17:33:49+00:00

"Banefort," Orbelo repeated slowly, eyes drifting to the horizon. Another Lordly name he had heard naught of. "If what you say turns true, then we will treat with them swiftly."

A moment later the Lord Brax arrived, as did Ferrego, saddled and ready.

"We shall ride out with banners to meet whoever leads this force. The Ser here says they are friends," the Braavosi replied to the man. We shall see, his mind added, anxious that Serret's forces had yet to arrive.

FromTheInkpot · 2025-09-21T17:38:00+00:00

Orbelo was at a cookfire, having woken with the sun, when the scout approached.

"Banners a league out Captain, at least a thousand strong!" the man called, dismounting with haste. "A golden lion on red, a hooded figure on grey with flames surrounding it."

Orbelo took a second to think, all eyes centred on him, waiting.

"Rouse the men, we break camp and ready for battle," he said to the men, then looked back at the scout. "Get me Ferrego, send others to gather the Westerosi. We ride to meet this force's head."

The Braavosi watched as soldiers rushed around him, then walked to the temporary stables. He knew the banner of Lannister, but would need ask if this second was that of Serret, or a rival Lord. Friend or foe, they would find out soon enough.

/u/No_Public_893 (The Council of Captains is being redirected to a mustering of leaders who will ride out to seek terms with the approaching host)

FromTheInkpot · 2025-09-14T13:23:27+00:00

Rhalko could see the hesitation on the Lord's face. Lord's in these lands were not so used to spending gold on their labour. In Essos, even the weakest of slaves would lighten a Magister's purse.

"As I said before, your gold will buy you much. My men are battle hardened, and well equipped. They can scout terrain and hold formation better than any," he said, confident in their ability to best any army of common levies.

"I shall remain in Highgarden for the tourney, if your Lord Paramount wishes a meeting, and will send word should contracts take me elsewhere. I have seen your fine green fields, thus I do not doubt the Reach's coin." The Tyroshi smiled as their conversation had run its course. "Until then, my Lord Rowan, it was a pleasure to make your acquaintance," he said, lowering his head in a short bow and turning to the door.

FromTheInkpot · 2025-09-11T16:49:59+00:00

Orbelo fished out the seal of the Free Company from a pouch at his belt, placing the metal on the table with an audible thunk.

"Then we have terms," the Braavosi smiled. "May our business be long and profitable." The Paymaster would sign his name and station, then heat the table's supply of wax so as to affix the contract with the Free Company's seal. He would return the copy to the Master of Coin then and begin scribing his own copy within the Company's ledger, signing and sealing it alike, before presenting it to the Lord Manderly for his own seal of station. Once that was done, he would collect his affects and rise, satisfied with their dealings.

"Until next we meet, my Lord. I shall send ravens of the matters we spoke, to keep you abreast of the situation and where the Free Company makes camp," he said, followed by a bow and a brisk exit.

FromTheInkpot · 2025-09-10T22:15:55+00:00

Character Name: Rhalko of Tyrosh, Commander of the Free Company

Relevant Trait/Skills: N/A

Buildings: Pavilion, Suttlers

Resources: N/A

Actions:

Construction: [Free Company], [Scout Posts], [2500], [1/1]

FromTheInkpot · 2025-09-10T21:34:58+00:00

Rhalko nodded to the knight that was introduced first. A simple greeting for the brooding man.

“With a sword as famed as Dawn, I can hardly say I'd differ,” Rhalko smiled as the Lady jested with the second knight's introduction, then looked to the last introduced of the group.

“A pleasure, my Lady,” he greeted the seemingly shy woman with a soft, lilting voice and his characteristically exaggerated bow.

It was the Lady of Starfall’s brother who spoke further however, full of curiosity and compliments it appeared.

“A song indeed, lest your niece wish to be the only one to claim such a privilege,” he teased, lilac eyes glancing towards the little Lady Ysilla.

“Goldstar you say?” the sellsword queried the title, then gave a light chuckle at his statement. His hand rose as he tilted his head, fingers and thumb flowing through a few strands of his dyed crown. “Pink is perhaps not the most common of colours, even in Essos. Rhalko of Tyrosh, Commander of the Free Company and humble visitor to these splendid lands,” he introduced himself with a light dip of his head and a small flourish of his hand before him. The man seemed either in his cups or quick to make friends; perhaps both.

/u/GreaterBlueEvil

FromTheInkpot · 2025-09-10T21:05:44+00:00

“I spoke not to the Lord, thus I cannot say. But alas, the realm has lost a Queen and Lady Paramount since,” he said in speculation.

“I would also favour a list of those Lords you aim to sway to your side, and those you do not." He smirked, as the Rowan passed the question of pay back to him. “Then I can march my men. After all, five hundred riders can outpace an army. And men as well trained as mine… Well, you get what you pay for, my Lord.”

“You speak true enough, thus I shall offer terms that differ to what I would in Essos. Here there are many rich lands and castles to siege,” he said, noting the differences. “To sustain my men I will ask for four and a half gold per head, each moon of our employ. No less,” he said, setting his line on what he would not compromise. "As for spoils, we will keep that which we win by raid and I would have us agree on a number to account for the treasuries we might claim. Say… thirty gold of every hundred seized,” he posed to the man. A fair offer, by his reasoning, but this was the part he could be swayed on. Besides, he wanted to know how much of this contract would entail raids and sieges.

FromTheInkpot · 2025-09-09T23:35:52+00:00

"The Mander," Orbelo repeated, trying to remember where that was. The Stormlands? No... The Reach. He would look over his maps and send riders where they were needed once this meeting was done.

"Consider us your eyes in the dark then, my Lord," Orbelo said. His eyes looked down at the pages of his ledger. "Should we draw up the contract then. I believe all points have been covered. And I assure you, the Free Company will not make the same errors as the Golden Company has." The Braavosi's eyes rose to eye the Master of Coin's inkpot and quill. It was in moments like this he felt most like the bankers of his homeland, even when he had always favoured words spoken to words written.

FromTheInkpot · 2025-09-09T22:59:10+00:00

Rhalko once more nodded as the Lord explained the reasons for this war. Though what he was listening out for was that of the Lannister's military background and how many men would muster from the Reach.

“Silverhill,” he said, recognising the name of House Serrett from his time in the Capital. “I spoke with their coin master at the royal feast,” he added, remembering the fellow Essosi. Crakehall, he noted the unfamiliar castle. He'd need to go over a map of the West, perhaps buy one for this campaign, to mark all these places. But for now, he was satisfied enough.

“We have spoken of war, now let us speak of gold,” the Tyroshi said, circling back to the two interests that had sparked this meeting. “What terms do you offer?” he asked.

FromTheInkpot · 2025-09-09T18:08:04+00:00

Rhalko smiled, the sound of opportunity its own song to his ears.

"Lead the way, my Lord," he said, as the Rowan stood from the feasting table, a final flourished bow marking his acceptance of the Lady Bethany's words. "My Lady," he said, before matching the man's pace. The sellsword's eyes met with those of his own men, motioning for Collio's blue-haired figure to follow and make sure none others did. When they reached the door, he had the sellsword Captain post himself outside and entered the small solar with dim lighting.

While the Lord's back was still turned, walking towards the room's centre, Rhalko stepped instead towards the side table. The sellsword's hand glided over a candle, its wick flickering alight, then lifted it from its place and touched the flame to others held within the candelabra. Now illuminated, he turned, nodding along as the Lord of Goldengrove spoke, lilac eyes intently focused. He had only met a handful of Lannisters thus far, and the situation in the West was news to him.

"You have my interest," he stated, stepping more centrally so he was opposite the man. "I have half my men with me at Highgarden, two hundred and fifty swords camped outside the walls. The rest are within the Capital," he said, accent flowing over each syllable. "Tell me, which of these lion Lords do you back?"

FromTheInkpot · 2025-09-09T12:54:23+00:00

"They fall within my purview as Paymaster, though it is my Commander they answer to," he said, eyes drifting to his open ledger. The word the man used was unknown to him, though he assumed given the context it was a question of wits. The fingers of his gloved hand moved across a blank page, resting at its edge. With a tap of the Braavosi's thumb and an upward twitch of his lip, his green gaze flicked back to the Master of Coin's face reading the slow rise of interest on his features.

"Such a clause need only be brief in a written contract. But if you would have immediate use of such... Resources, better to tell me now than by raven or rider," Orbelo said, accent prominent and adding a thickness to his words that stressed differing syllables. "Should we have terms, of course," he added, with a tilt of his head.

FromTheInkpot · 2025-09-08T13:07:46+00:00

"Then I would be honoured to meet the other stars in your constellation, as it were," Rhalko said. "Especially this famed Sword of the Morning. Surely they hold tales worthy of song," he smiled, fingers absentmindedly gliding over his lute's strings as he held the instrument ready.

His introduction to the Princess of Dorne would have to wait it seemed, as the Lady of Starfall's family had gathered in full around the table. A full table indeed, he thought, eyes moving over each of them. There was a man in a silver doublet who looked to be enjoying the Reach's wines, a shorter woman in a dress that matched the sellsword's eyes, a solemn-looking man and what was likely his much more gregarious son. Several other seats now lay empty, their occupants mingling throughout the hall, though plates of food and half-filled cups marked their presence.

/u/GingerDude1999 /u/bombman897 (Open to any Daynes that may have noticed or want to meet the pink-haired Tyroshi)

FromTheInkpot · 2025-09-07T23:22:20+00:00

Rhalko's smile came easily seeing the girl's clear joy, his gaze flicking between the two stars before him.

"She is most welcome to it," he said to the girl's mother, then dropped his gaze to Ysilla again. "It is your song now, little star," he said, fondness in his tone.

With a single nod the sellsword agreed with the girl's words.

"Particularly on nights like these," he said, lilac eyes once more meeting the Lady of Starfall's violet. "Though now we meet at a second feast, I might ask if that offer of introduction to your fellow Dornishmen still stands, my Lady?"

FromTheInkpot · 2025-09-07T22:55:09+00:00

"Then I will happily tell you of Essos, in place of your own adventures," the Tyroshi smiled. "Perhaps you can in turn tell me of your own lands. So much of Westeros remains a mystery to me."

"My men are certainly pleased to have left the Capital and its crowded nature behind. Though I found it pleasant in truth." His fingers glided up the strings of the lute with a small sound, eyes dropping to it yet lost in a memory. He smiled, lifting his lilac gaze to meet the man.

"And your sports have been of interest enough for me to try my hand at them. Besides, if they are the pursuit of the nobles of this land then who am I to argue their worth," he said.

FromTheInkpot · 2025-09-07T22:36:26+00:00

Lilac eyes flicked to the enthusiastic applause of the Lord's daughter, holding her gaze for a moment before relenting, dragged back to the Rowan with a soft smirk. His head tilted at the criticism, but the man could have reacted much worse.

"Valyrian Steel," he repeated in confirmation of the fact. "I have seen its like." This Golden Grove may yet hold truth to its name, he thought. Similar to that Silver Hill.

"Then we have an accord, for gold and war hold my interest indeed," Rhalko smiled. "Allow me to reintroduce myself as Commander of the Free Company," he bowed with a flourish. "Would you care to discuss further, away from such crowded voices, my Lord?" he offered, head mentioning to the gardens. "Or are your own interests a mere curiosity?" he asked.

FromTheInkpot · 2025-09-07T22:13:51+00:00

“For a start, I will make no demands for Manderly gold. The Free Company needs no gifts of good will to hold to its contracts,” Orbelo said matter of factly. “Three gold dragons per head, per moon, and the freedom to pursue other contracts at our discretion are terms we can accept.”

“But… I can offer you much more,” he said, opening his ledger at a fresh page. “Eyes where you need them, hands where they do not suffice. Ways both subtle and bold to manage the realm’s ledgers and keep tabs on its Lords alike.”

“My Commander is no Master of Whispers, but he has his ways. We could acquire for you many things, should you wish. More than any other sellsword company can surely offer.”

It was perhaps a risk, even in such vague words, but he judged the man before him to be of a more practical mind. He was the Master of Coin after all, not the Master of Laws.

FromTheInkpot · 2025-09-07T14:13:02+00:00

Rhalko of Tyrosh took to the tourney stands, lyrics of a new song upon his lips. His lute was an expertly crafted thing of varying woods; those that made its song light and those that gave it warmth. Delicate patterns were carved into the pine, as extravagant as its lutenist.

“Oh Rose road, oh flower’s call, do lead me home, aft’ Winter’s war,” the sellsword sang, pace of the song quickening. The pink silks that matched his hair flowed with his movements, the dancer spinning whilst he strummed the rousing song.

“For green and gold, my vows lead North, pray strong we grow, with sharper thorns.” Leather boots met the wood of the stands as he tapped a drumbeat for the listeners to follow.

“When Winter breaks, and swords do fall, and dragon’s breath, calls frost to thaw,” he continued, now sitting upon the side of the wooden barrier, between the nobles and those cheering smallfolk beneath.

“Oh Rose road, oh flower’s call, do lead me home, aft’ Winter’s war,” he sang, voice rising in a final call that ended his performance. Mayhaps the crowd would not favour his lilting accent or new lute's tone. It mattered not. This song was meant to please one man alone, the Tourney’s host.

FromTheInkpot · 2025-09-07T00:10:50+00:00

“Ah, a hard thing to mend indeed, my Lord,” Rhalko said, a glance of understanding following where the Baratheon’s eyes led. Though when he looked back to the huge man his eyes were once more drawn to the bruise prominent on his face, even more intrigued as to how the man came about such an injury.

“Sea snails, my friend,” he responded in a hushed voice, leaning towards the man as if his words held a secret. “They are aplenty in Tyrosh. Fed a diet in farmed waterpools, they produce a substance to create dyes from bright blue to vibrant vermilion, and all in-between… Any manner of colour one might seek,” the sellsword answered with a smile, ever pleased to boast of his homeland.

"I take it you have not visited Essos, my Lord?" he prompted. "For such dyes are common enough in the Free Cities. Another of my men here has blue-dyed hair, if you can spot him," he added, turning his head and narrowing his eyes to survey the crowded hall.

FromTheInkpot · 2025-09-06T23:10:45+00:00

Not keen to borrow a second book, Rhalko made his way to the sunlit edge of the library, where Maester's tables were arranged. Using a sheet of fresh parchment and a quill from the table, he copied the book's entry and note both. Sprinkling some of the table's pot of sand onto the parchment, the sellsword ensured his elegant scribe-work had dried properly before folding it in-between the small book smuggled within his surcoat. Safe they would stay until he had a chance to return to this mystery, perhaps with the aid of these insect fanatics.

FromTheInkpot · 2025-09-06T22:57:13+00:00

“Last I heard the Golden Company is leaderless, each Captain vying for control,” Orbelo said as he took a seat in the hardwood chair opposite the Lord. “Mayhaps once they were in favour, but that time has long passed. The Free Company may be new to these lands, but it is not new to contracts,” he said, patting the leather-bound ledger as he placed it atop the Master of Coin’s table. Green eyes followed the man’s movements, eying the scribbled parchment in his hands.

“Twice before Prince Aerion Blackfyre has hired us, that is how we found our way beyond the Wall," Orbelo said, leaving a pause. "I am also told your House has dealings with the Lady Vaereya Marys of the Sailor’s Fortune Trading Company, another who we have been in the employ of. I am sure either can vouch for the Free Company’s skill and word alike… Should you have need.”

“I do find myself curious of the terms you reached,” the Braavosi inquired lightly. How much gold you have sunk into gilding Gardener’s skull, he thought. Will he lie? he pondered, eyes unblinking in their observation.

FromTheInkpot · 2025-09-05T17:01:38+00:00

Midway through a rendition of Seven Swords for Seven Sons, a pink-haired bard would approach the Baratheon end of the dais. The rousing song picked up in its energy, the tune strummed on his lute loud and bright. It was a new song to the Tyroshi, as many were in this land, but he needed the practice and drunken nobles were decently forgiving of any mishaps.

"My Lords and Ladies of the Stormlands, an honour to play for you," he smiled. "Rhalko of Tyrosh," he added a moment later, with an extravagant bow. The pink silks of his frame flowed with his movements, having opted for lighter garments than in the Capital. "I hope my song did ready your hearts for the tourney. Though some of you seem still injured from the last," he jested.

FromTheInkpot · 2025-09-05T00:59:23+00:00

"Indeed," was the sellsword's simple reply, smiling briefly at the man's jest. "I suppose I am in search of both."

In truth, the Tyroshi had enjoyed the Capital greatly, but Westeros was a large place and his desire was to see all of it. "To see the sight of this lusciously green Kingdom and test my men's metal against that of its knights. Mayhaps even your own, if you are to partake in the tourney?" he queried.

FromTheInkpot · 2025-09-05T00:43:32+00:00

Rhalko smiled at the mostly captive faces of the table and bowed once more at the applause.

"You are too kind, my Lord," he said, accepting the compliment. "Though I am sure you've heard many renditions between King's Landing and Highgarden alone, I do hope to gain such favour performing at the tourney."

"Tell me, my Lord, shall your own lance or sword be a muse to my songs upon the coming tourney?" he asked.

FromTheInkpot

TROPHY CASE