Visions from the Wood

Tyrone’s description of the army of creatures triggers some memories for Ornogrim. Their smaller stature, greenish-brown skin, and large, slanted eyes remind him of a few different types of woodland inhabitants.

His first thought are the various magic-wielding Hags that exist along the shoreline and in the forests. These are creatures not to be trifled with – and that is in their smaller groups. An army of them would be a significant challenge to even the modern armies of The Reach. Maybe a leader has emerged among the factions to rise against civilization?

Ornogrim’s mind jumps to the Children of the Forest. They have an elvenfolk, childlike character, but although he’d heard rumors of atrocities toward mankind, that was far in the past, in the time of the First Men and prior. Perhaps they are gearing up for a newly-minted war on mankind?

Maybe these are creatures still unknown to Ornogrim. Maybe some arcane, atrocious mix of races bred for war. The one thing he does know: this means adventure! And departure from the mundane!

Ornogrim relays this information to the group and conveys the danger ahead. Qhortho grins.

Tyrone reiterates that he intends to help defeat these foes alongside the group once they learn what they can. He then asks for the Amulet to enchant it, to prevent anyone from using it as a tracking device. He waves his hand over the object and flitters of blue appear then fade away continuously.

                TYRONE:              This will prevent anyone from using the Amulet as a target of any tracking spells and it will be invisible to any magical senses used to spy on you. This will last indefinitely as long as I meditate to keep it active every 20-30 hours, but I may only cast it on one item at any given time.

He then hands the Amulet back to Qarzdaq without any of the trouble Maester Paxtan exhibited.

                TYRONE:              Now come. Let us meet with the King.

Before he turns around, Qhortho asks about the Valyrian blade strapped to his back. Tyrone has very little information about it but points out that the caliber of that blade means someone is likely to be looking for it.

They ask if he can disguise the blade, to which Tyrone points out that his specialty is not in disguise, and he would be of no use in this regard.

As they walk towards the courtyard through the rose archway, Ornogrim shares his desire to take on the quest to destroy that force in the north.

As they enter the courtyard, the King is speaking with a clean-shaven dark-haired man when you walk up. Ser Marcyn Sentel is standing along the wall leading to the main castle.

                TYRONE:              My liege.

The King turns to Tyrone then back to the clean-shaven man and nods quickly. The man bows slightly then strides past Ser Marcyn to enter the castle.

                KING:                    Yes?

                TYRONE:              Our business has concluded. As promised, the Unlikely Assembly will speak to you about your matter at hand.

                KING:                    Thank you Tyrone. I hope all goes well with your research. Get my master back to work as soon as you can.

Tyrone nods. He and Paxtan bow slightly then leave the courtyard, following the same route as the clean-shaven man.

The King looks the Assembly up and down with a face of “what in Seven Hells am I getting myself into.”

                KING:                    There have been many reports of Ironborn raids along the entire west cost of Westeros. I was hoping Lannisport and Casterly Rock would take some initiative, but the rumors of raids continue. Apparently, there is even a blockade outside Lannisport, which prevents them making progress by sea. Not that battling the Ironborn on open water is an advisable course.

                QARZ:   We’ve bested the Ironborn on the Redwyne.

                KING:                    Hmm… If what you say is true, maybe there is hope in you yet. This is causing instability within The Reach Proper as well as these self-proclaimed “thousand kingdoms.” This is reminiscent of a time long ago when the Ironborn ruled the entire coast. The raids seem to originate along too wide a spread along the coast — keeping an army readied would cost fortunes. And that is the goal of the Ironborn: reduce our coffers and our influence to make their future raids easier.

                KING:                    I was planning to have an official team travel the Ocean Road and interview merchants, but I had not done it yet because unless my team gets eye on Iron born ships and they spend enough time on the road, I will not get the real information I need. Seven Hells, most people won’t tell an officer of Highgarden the truth, for fear of being charged with inciting rebellion against the Crown.

                KING:                    I’d like you to be my team. Travel the Ocean Road and find the locations attacked hardest then report back to me so I may send targeted forces to deal with the issue. I would prefer you not engage them, but I leave it at your discretion for the circumstances you face. However, I need you back here alive to relay the information you find. Remember, success here is the ability for me to send a well-armed targeted force to intercept and dissuade future raids.

                QARZ:                   Oh, we’ll come back alive.

                KING:                    Your enthusiasm, however misplaced, reminds me of myself at your age… As an additional charge, I would have you check in with the lords of Old Oak, Crakehall, Lannisport, and Casterly Rock, so they know we are doing something about this. You can take this map with you.

He hands a scroll to Qarzdaq, who opens it immediately.

                KING:                    At a normal pace, it is about 9 days to Old Oak and about 23 days to Lannisport. You can estimate the distances to the other points based on that scale.

                KING:                    To anyone you see on the road, you are independent sell swords, looking to make a profit by guarding merchants and their caravans. You are not to let on your connection to me or Highgarden. Understood?

The group repeats, “Understood.”

                KING:                    It grows late. I would suggest you stay the night and meet me here on the morrow so I may answer any last-minute questions you might have. I’d suggest The Deep Onion for food and drink. It’s the largest tavern and inn in Highgarden and will give you the sense of our fair city. You can stay the night there if you wish, but they only have Modest accommodations and it can be loud so you may not get a great rest. If you want something upscale, you can stay at Lannis Lookout, but you will need one of my men to verify you are staying at the King’s request. There is also the Whispering Winds, which provides Comfortable accommodations.

They thank him for the information.

                SHAD:                   I am looking for weapons and armor. Do you have any suggestions of reputable shops?

                KING:                    All of the shops along the main road are reputable and will contain all of the wares you might require.

He goes on to describe a pub known as the Shattered Shingle: a decent local establishment without the tourist draw of the Deep Onion.

                QHOR:                  I can assure you that your trust in us is not misplaced. We will complete your tasks and bring you the information you seek.

                KING:                    I admire your confidence, Dothraki.

                SHAD:                   Should we send updates by raven upon arrival at each town?

                TINKEY:                StayPut. StayPut.

The raven on Ornogrim’s shoulder catches his eye then he turns back to Shadowsilver.

                KING:                    I would prefer not to have ravens sent for fear of them being intercepted.

                SHAD:                   What do these critical tasks pay, might I ask?

                KING:                    Your reward is access to my master. I will have to deal with some second-rate master in about 10 days’ time and I am not looking forward to it.

Shadowsilver turns to the group and snidely comments, “sounds like Tyrone sold us into slavery again…”

Tholannan replies, “seems to have worked out alright for YOU so far…”

                KING:                    I must take my leave. I will await your return in the morn.

The group bows their heads, following the norm presented to them by those who departed the King’s presence previously, then follows the same route the other visitors had gone. The Assembly makes way up the street for some shopping.

The Streets of Highgarden

While walking the main road, they see a rounded crowd of people — the telltale sign of a street fight! They excitedly approach the crowd, laying their eyes on two people in suits of armor engaged in a full-on sword fight.

Shadowsilver immediately sees an opportunity while everyone’s gaze is on the fight. She begins Operation Pickpocket.

The rest of the group finds the fight intriguing. The two fighters square off. The taller armored fighter slashes at the slightly shorter one. The target dodges quickly, returning with an overhand slash that is quickly blocked by a shield. The crowd cheers.

Qarzdaq asks a man next to him what has happened and receives no response, as the man’s eyes are fixed on the fight.

The fighters continue trading blows, blocking and dodging, showcasing their extensive training. The crowd embraces every second of it.

Suddenly, the taller one rushes the shorter one, who spins out of the way and chases after the aggressor with a swift tackle. They go down in a loud crash, swords sliding on the ground towards the crowd. The shorter one rolls the now-unarmed prone one onto their back and slides a dagger out of a hidden sheathe along an armored bracer.

The dagger plunges into the unarmed fighter’s chest to the hilt. The crowd cheers.

The taller one lying on the ground shudders then goes lifeless. The crowd applauds.

The winner stands up and looks around at the crowd for a few moments then reaches an arm down towards the body. The winner’s hand is met by the loser’s. The victorious fighter helps the other to their feet. The crowd continues their applause, apparently ok with the dead coming back to life.

The two fighters look at each other then remove their helmets simultaneously, revealing them as two very attractive women, a shorter brunette and a taller blonde.

The two fighters, smiling at each other, look around at the crowd and bow deeply. The crowd erupts.

The “fighters” then pick up two small pails and walk around the front line of the crowd collecting coins.

Qhortho’s erection is noticeable as his jaw drops.

When the collection basket makes its way around near Ornogrim, he tosses in a gold coin, “Very impressive.” The brunette thanks him greatly.

                ORNO:                  May I ask, is this illusion due to your equipment or some other sort of trickery?

                BRUNETTE:         No illusions, sir, artful theater. We take street acting to a different level here in Highgarden.

                ORNO:                  I’d be interested in meeting with you after to get some more detail on this sometime.

                BRUNETTE:         I think I can manage that. My name is Nora. How about tonight?

                ORNO:                  Alright, that sounds good!

                NORA:                  Deep Onion after dark?

                ORNO:                  Sounds great. It’s a date.

                NORA:                  It’s a date!

The head to the gem shop, which is home to many of the fine-quality gems also found in Oldtown. The Assembly sells most of their gems and is generally happy with the prices they arranged after haggling. Before leaving, Qhortho asks about the orange gem in the hilt of his newfound sword.

The shop owner tells them this is a Jacinth: a very rare and expensive, fiery-orange gem.

                GEMCUTTER:     I would normally buy one of these for 2,500 gold! I would gladly remove it from the pewter or silver casing it is in if you’d like.

Qhortho, guessing this is probably Valyran steel, declines but thanks him for the offer and tells him he’d think about it. The shop owner ups his offer to 3,500gp, which is also declined.

Next, they go to the local magic store.

                ORNO:                  Do you have any fake vomit?

                OWNER:               Plenty!

                ORNO:                  Do you have any real vomit?

                OWNER:               Plenty! That’s how we make the fake vomit! What do you think you’re standing in?! I kid, I kid. What can I do for you, travelers?

                SHAD:                   So what sorts of items do you have for sale?

                OWNER:               We are one of the premier outlets in Highgarden for arcane objects and supplies.

The owner speaks of scrolls and various trinkets. They learn here that magic scrolls may only be used by those who are able to learn the magic contained therein. Anyone who attempts to use a scroll without having an innate ability to use such magic, will destroy the scroll upon reading it. Additionally, they must be something a Wizard can cast, so that he may write and imbue such a spell onto a scroll.

Tholannan asks about scrolls dealing with the darker arts.

                ​OWNER:               Yes, we have such items, or could make them quickly if they are not in our stock.

                THOL:                    Specifically, a Scroll of Vampiric Touch.

The shop owner seems mildly concerned, but says that it could be accommodated.

                SHAD:                   Why are you interested in such things?

                THOL:                    We have seen much and have had to fight many battles against foes greater than us. These arts may become quite handy in the future. I mean, the fights we’ve won have not been with pillows and feathers. This is just another arrow in our quiver.

                SHAD:                   Look, I understand we have used various… aspects… of nature. I am more interested in how and why you want this specific spell.

                THOL:                    As I said, it is just another tool and we should wield it… responsibly of course.

Tholannan thinks about it some more and decides to purchase a scroll of Dispel Magic instead, thereby concluding their business here. On to the Alchemist’s Shop.

While on their way, Ornogrim mentions to Qhortho that he has a date with one of the female fighters they saw earlier.

                ORNO:                  Want to double date with the second one? I’m meeting her at the Deep Onion later tonight.

With a fervor only an overly testosterone-driven adolescent male can muster, Qhortho responds, “Yes. Yes, I would. Get it? Get it? Wood?” He chuckles to himself as he feels his britches tighten.

Not a moment too soon, they arrive at the Alchemist’s storefront.

They ask about identifying potions.

                OWNER:               Sure. I can do that for you. 30 gold a piece.

                ORNO:                  We’re interested in a bulk discount.

                OWNER:               Ok, I can do that. How many do you have?

                QARZ:                   Five.

                OWNER:               Hmmm… How about I do the bunch for 110 gold? That’s 22 gold a piece.

The group scoffs at such a price. They had clearly never paid for identifying potions before this, as this was quite a fair deal. However, they attempt to bargain further by offering their Essence of the Flumph Bog as payment. They agree to a deal after a few minutes and all are equally dissatisfied – the indicator of a great deal.

The owner cracks his knuckles and turns around to a small shelf where a magnifying glass, a tiny vial, and a rolled-up piece of exotic fabric sits. He turns back to the group, components in hand, and rolls out the fabric onto the countertop covering a small 12″ x 6″ area. He places the other two instruments nicely on top.

He then takes the yellowish liquid with the eyeball, opens it and the eyeball disappears. The owner does not react to this. He closes his eyes and wafts the aroma of the potion towards his nose. He caps the potion then examines it with the magnifying glass. The eyeball reappears during the examination, which startles him only slightly as it happened to appear just in front of the area he was looking at. Playing it off, he places the elixir on the counter next to the fabric.

He clears his throat before speaking.

                OWNER:               What you have here is a Potion of Clairvoyance. This will allow you to place an invisible sensor in a location you know for about 10 minutes.

He then follows a similar ritual for each potion. First wafting the potion, then, depending upon the smell, either examining with the magnifying glass, taking a small sample with the vial, or both.

They are able to identify the red potion as a Potion of Healing, the white milky mixture as Keoghtom’s Ointment, the orange one as a Potion of Fire Breath, the green one as a Potion of Acid Resistance. They range in value from 125gp to 1250gp.

The group decides these are quite useful and they would be better off not selling them.

Shadowsilver asks the owner where she might acquire a vial or two of an odorless, colorless poison. He quickly responds that they sell nothing of the sort anywhere in Highgarden.

As they figure out who should hold what, Tholannan says he does not want the Potion of Fire Breath. In light of the interest in the dark arcane, Ornogrim finds this somewhat contradictory. Tholannan explains that his interest in the vampiric spells and other necrotic arts are in line with his deity; water gives life and takes it away. Fire, on the other hand, is not wielded by his people and he would find that to be an affront on his deity.

They leave the potion shop and look for an armory. Qhortho leads the way and, upon finding one, approaches the owner.

                QHOR:                  I’d like to possibly get the hilt and handle redone on this blade I have.

                OWNER:               Alright, let me take a look.

Qhortho unsheathes the great sword from its scabbard on his back and hands it over. The man puts out his hands to accept it. As he takes hold of it, the sudden lift of his arms gives away that this is lighter than he was expecting. He glances quickly at Qhortho then back at the sword. Not wanting to get answers to questions he doesn’t want to ask, he focuses on the hilt closely.

                OWNER:               Ah, Valyrian Steel is holding that gem in place.

                QHOR:                  Is it within your abilities to rework this?

                OWNER:               I do know someone who works Valyrian Steel locally. I also know it is quite expensive. Only a Master or Grand Master smith can work this material.

                QHOR:                  Who is the finest?

                SHAD:                   Are you not the man? We’re on the main road here!

                OWNER:               Ha! I am a Master but am no Grand Master and I do not have personal experience or training with this particular metal. However, my partner down the road does.

                QHOR:                  Is he the best in town?

                OWNER:               He is the best in town.

                QHOR:                  Is he a Grand Master?

                OWNER:               He is a Grand Master. He used to work out of Oldtown, but retired from the business and returned to Highgarden. It has been some time since he has worked in the field, but he is the best around.

                SHAD:                   We should go meet with him then.

                OWNER:               Well, I could bring him here. He does not have his own shop anymore. Fair warning… for an average job, he would charge upwards of 5,000 gold.

Ornogrim whistles in surprise. Tinkey reacts with “StayPut, StayPut.” Everyone looks at the raven for a second before resuming conversation.

                SHAD:                   Seems a lot to get access to a gem worth 3,500 gold.

                OWNER:               If you are only seeking the gem’s removal, I should tell you something I do know about Valyrian Steel. You cannot just rework part of it; it must be entirely melted down and recast using a superheated forge imbued with the arcane.

                QHOR:                  Ok, well I will think that over some more before I go forward. Could you perhaps just rework the handguard?

                OWNER:               It looks like this is made of standard steel, so yes, I can definitely do that. I would have this ready tomorrow, as it is presently getting late in the day.

                QHOR:                  I’m not sure I feel comfortable leaving such a blade as this overnight. I am willing to pay extra for your time if you were to do it right now.

                OWNER:               I was going to say that I’d do this job for 400 gold, but if you want a rush, how does 600 sound?

                QHOR:                  500 and you have a deal.

After pondering for a few moments…

                OWNER:               Ok, 500. You have a deal.

                QHOR:                 Could you also rewrap the handle? I’d like to cover up the gemstone.

                OWNER:               Yeah, I can do that.

He produces a slender filet knife used for delicate work and cuts into the leather wrapping on the handle. He reveals the blade and handle is a single piece of Valyrian Steel that narrows after reaching the hilt-side of the blade ending in a pommel chamber that holds the gem. He takes note of how the carbon steel is forged around the Valyrian Steel.

                OWNER:               Is it alright if I take this into the back so I may work on it?

                SHAD:                   We can go back there with you, right?

                OWNER:               Well… for insurance purposes… Just kidding… come on back.

                ORNO:                  Before you get started, could you tell me the value you might place on this fine piece of chainmail?

                OWNER:               Sure. Wait a second. What is this splotch on here on the shoulder?

                ORNO:                  Oh. That ain’t shit.

                OWNER:               I’ll have to roll this in a barrel of sand before I could sell it. I’d give you 40 gold for it.

                ORNO:                  How about 50?

                OWNER:               Hmmm… let’s meet in the middle at 45.

                ORNO:                  Done.

The two men conclude the transaction and he turns to walk into the back of the shop. Qhortho and Shadowsilver follow.

Rather than watch this man perform his craft, Ornogrim, Qarzdaq, and Tholannan decide to check-in at the Whispering Winds. Qhortho and Shadowsilver stick around to ensure there is no funny business.

Qhortho, in an attempt to inspire the artisan, distracts the man over the next hour such that he crafts a miraculously mundane handguard. Any common person could, and will, notice the defects in this piece of equipment. This does, however, further the goal of keeping the fine blade less noticeable. Perhaps. Maybe it just looks like a shoddy attempt to cover up the quality of weapon it is attached to.

Shadowsilver changes the subject and asks what sort of price she could get for her Dragonscale armor. The smith looks it over and offers her a cool 15k! She declines, but says, “That’s good to know. Thank you.”

The two leave the smith’s shop and make way for the Whispering Winds.

Upon arriving at the Whispering Winds, they enter an all-black interior with long modest candles on shelves along the walls.

Immediately after being assigned their rooms by a pleasant and classy middle-aged woman, they meet up with Ornogrim and Qazrdaq, who had each spent their past hour very differently: Qarzdaq spent the time productively meditating on his amulet while Ornogrim warged with Tinkey.

Ornogrim flew around town, weaving to and fro among the many slender, round towers that make up the skyline. As Tinkey, he looked around for the seedier areas of Highgarden. It is a remarkably clean city overall and the typical riffraff seems to be nonexistent. As he was about to return, he saw an armed robbery in place nearby the docks: a man with a dagger demanding a woman’s coin pouch. Tinkey dove at the mugger and pecked at his head. The mugger, surprised by this, haphazardly swiped his dagger this way and that, missing Tinkey with every slash. In the confusion, the woman ran off to find safety.

Ornogrim then used Tinkey to explore the remainder of the city, flying along the tiered walls and coasting above the large hedge maze within the outermost section. He took note of the pathways around the maze – travelworn ground from common circumvention of the maze interior. Not noticing anything else of interest, he guided Tinkey back to his room. After regaining his own consciousness, he left his room to meet up with the others.

Blowing Off Steam

They all leave for the Deep Onion, where Tholannan has been all this time.

                ORNO:                  Hey Qhortho, you still up for meeting with those two girls?

                QHOR:                  Yes!

                ORNO:                  I’m going to have Tinkey deliver a suave line to break the ice.

As they approach the Deep Onion, the live music is heard through the large and heavy oak doors. The interior is very open with large tables and benches throughout. The all-wooden décor is complemented by the stag chandeliers and their countless candles. Coats of Arms from Houses across Westeros are hung around the entire establishment near the ceiling. Notably, no Dornish Houses are represented.

Busty women serve large steins of ale to patrons, all of which are speaking loudly just barely not loud enough to hear each other over the louder music. Although the place is very busy, there’s still room to sit comfortably.

After glancing around, they see Tholannan at a table motioning them over. It seems he’s made himself at home already. He is at the center of a group of eight patrons drinking together and cheering. One of them gets up a little clumsily without a clear destination in mind.

As the rest of the Assembly arrives at the table, Tholannan introduces them to his newfound friends.

                THOL:                    I’d like you all to meet my fellow travelers!

There are great sounds of enjoyment and arrogance leaving their mouths without a coherent thought able to be discerned.

                THOL:                    Guys, this place is great! I got us the server with the biggest boobs!

He leans over to his friends and tells them not to ask for any Dornish ales.

---

About an hour earlier, Tholannan found an empty seat at this table and quickly made friends by offering a round of drinks for the table.

It’s worth noting now that every few minutes a loud “WOOO!” is heard from random areas inside the establishment. It was unknown as to why so many unconnected people are yelling out, but that is soon to change.

He looks around to find the biggest boobs on a server, then calls her person over.

                THOL:                    Quite a rowdy crew you have here, huh?

                SERVER:               That’s the Fireplum Schnapps! You always know who’s just drank it by that reaction. Do you think you can beat The Schnapps?

She winks at Tholannan then looks around to the others at the table and smiles.

                THOL:                    A round of Fireplum Schnapps for the entire table!

She walks off, delivering steins of ale as she goes.

While they wait on the drinks, Tholannan asks about the general goings-on in Highgarden. The locals discuss the Fight Theater performance earlier today and mentions their group pops up randomly but always draws a crowd. Tholannan asks about the guards getting the wrong idea, but one of the locals just says it’s such a common occurrence that the guards don’t seem to even take notice.

                THOL:                    Lucky they don’t have MY complexion!

The entire table laughs.

The server returns with their drinks. They all down their schnapps and without hesitation, they each yell “WOOO!” A brief sensation rolls over him that leaves him a bit hazy while also more charismatic. Not all of them were as lucky.

The one closest to Tholannan looks him right in the eye, “HEY! We did it! We beat The Schnapps!”

The rest of them don’t seem to have the same level of finely-tuned body mechanics required for sitting up straight. They all begin bragging to each other about various conquests, battle or sex – or so it seems by their tone and facial expressions. The words are almost impossible to recognize, save a few of the common ones such as “shite, piss, fuck, cunt, cocksucker, motherfucker, and tits.” “Blade” was thrown in there a few times too. Overall, it was difficult to say whether the words were just being said or if there was some sort of story threading them together.

A few of them try to exercise their mobility to an extraordinary level of futility, falling immediately upon turning their heads, tripping on the very benches they had been sitting upon. What’s most incredible about this scene is their obvious belief they are way on top of their game.

Tholannan looks them over – he and the man next to him share a great laugh.

                THOL:                    Tell me friend, what do you know about the coastal road?

​                PETE:                     The Ocean Road? It’s the main road to Lannisport. I’ve travelled it often as a kid, and several times since then but not recently due to the raids.

                THOL:                    Do you know of any common trap points? My friends and I intend to travel the road and we want to beware of any bandits along the way.

                PETE:                     I do not, but I would imagine there will be lots of raids at this time – and much to be gained by those who wish to take on the security for merchants. You see, Lannisport is still going to run their yearly faire this year. It begins in about 3 weeks and they keep it going for 4 weeks.

                THOL:                    Interesting! Maybe my companions and I will have to make an appearance!

He notices the large oak doors open. “Here they are now!”

                PETE:                     I’d stay to meet them friend, but I’m off to find me a wench!

---

After arriving at the table, Ornogrim and Qhortho are a little distracted, looking around the tavern. Having spotted what they were searching for, they leave for a table way in the back. The table they approach is one of the more animated ones in the tavern, a troupe of actors doing what actors do when passing time with each other. Seemingly witty comments, all of which quite practiced, flow effortlessly back and forth between them. When Ornogrim and Qhortho get within 10 feet of two very attractive women of a similar age to their own, Tinkey flies up and lands on the table, catching their attention. “M’ Lady, M’ Lady.”

                ORNO:                  Ah, thank you for the introduction, Tinkey. M’ Lady Nora, it is good to see you again. I believe you may remember my friend Qhortho?

                NORA:                  Yes, the one with the rising, uh… sword!

                QHOR:                  Quite a rousing performance.

                ORNO:                  May I buy you some drinks?

                NORA:                  Absolutely!

Ornogrim motions to the closest staff and orders 4 of the same drink Nora is already drinking, Gardener Ale.

He takes a seat then turns back to Nora and mentions that he’d love to hear more about the performance and how she pulled off that dagger trick. She pulls out the dagger and locks eyes with Ornogrim. Without breaking eye contact, she twirls it around and slams the blade directly downward into the heavy oak table to the hilt with a single strike.

Ornogrim looks on with curiosity, knowing the blade would have to be quite sharp and her strength quite high to plunge such a blade into such an object. He looks down at the blade as she removes it slowly, revealing it to have not penetrated the table at all, but instead to have retracted into the handle.

                ORNO:                  Ah! I see! Clever girl! Well, you’ve seen MY main parlor trick with my friend Tinkey here.

Tinkey hops up on his shoulder. Nora asks him how he learned to train his raven. He tells her that it is a combination of communing with animals and studying the arcane. She looks slightly taken aback by this, but relents, “I suppose that’s ok.”

                ORNO:                  It’s good not to be too uptight about these things.

Qhortho, still standing, turns to her taller friend who is sitting on the table.

                QHOR:                  Where did you learn to move like that?

                CORA:                   Extensive and looOOoong training. (she winks) You see, I wanted to be a sword master my entire life as a kid, but the options are limited for women to put this into practice so I turned what I’d learned to the theater.

Qhortho pops his pects a few times then puts his elbow out as an offer. Having critically failed her chastity save, she blushes and takes his arm. The couple leave the tavern at once.

Shadowsilver notices what’s going on over there and calls the attention of Tholannan and Qarzdaq, “Look at Qhortho taking that girl out of here. That didn’t take long!”

Ornogrim continues his conversation with Nora for two more hours, continuing to enjoy their ale, until ultimately, she fails her chastity save as well. The two leave the tavern for the Whispering Winds.

Meanwhile, Qarzdaq, Shadowsilver, and Tholannan sit at the table with the locals.

                QARZ:                   I heard something about fire and drinking – let’s do it!

Qarzdaq orders a round of Fireplum Schnapps for the table, but Shadowsilver declines. She orders a Gardener Ale instead. Qarzdaq and Tholannan beat the Schnapps, and now feeling the buzz of Fireplums in his belly, begins to speak of R’hllor. The table perks up to listen, but he is soon interrupted by a drastic change in the style of music.

The chatter in the tavern stops immediately. The bard playing on the small stage-like platform becomes highly animated and is all over the stage. The music is recognizable as The Bear and the Maiden Faire, but no one had ever heard this version before. Everyone’s eyes in the establishment are locked on the bard, including the Assembly’s.

He kicks over standing drums and various holstered instruments while he’s playing. Tholannan attempts to get a wench’s attention to dance, but no one is able to look away from the stage. The bard ends his song and the entire place is silent – a drastic change from the bustling tavern it was just minutes ago. A stein in the back on the tavern clangs to the floor.

After a few moments, everyone still staring at the bard, he looks around the room nervously. “I gu… guess you guys aren’t ready for that yet… … but your kids are gonna love it.” The bard leans his lute against a knocked-over drum, and apprehensively leaves the stage, quickly exiting behind some crates. The people in the crowd look around at each other and slowly the chatter picks up as the next bard gets the music going again – in a more traditional style.

Tholannan finally gets the attention of the barmaid who has been serving them.

                THOL:                    M’ Lady, you’ve been working all night, you can see the whole tavern has their fill. Come and enjoy the music for just one dance.

                SERVER:               This table over here needs more ale right now!

                THOL:                    (Calling over to the table she pointed out) I’ll buy you guys a round after we get done, how does that sound?

The table looks over at him like he could not be serious.

                THOL:                    Come on – just one dance with the lady!

They patrons look at each other, shrug, and agree.

                THOL:                    So?

                SERVER:               Well, if they’re ok waiting, I suppose it’s ok with me.

He effortlessly spins her out onto the open area of the floor and follows right behind her.

​Qarzdaq orders another schnapps. Then another. Then another. Loud “WOOO!” originate from this one table in the tavern repeatedly. Shadowsilver sees where this is going and decides it’s time for her to leave. She pickpockets a few of the drunks on the way out for good measure.

                QARZ:                   The fire of R’hllor is upon us! The wonder of the one true God brings life and wealth to all those who grant him an ear. The Lord of Light heals all wounds!

Or so that’s what he thinks he says. Everyone else hears:

                QARZ:   Fur ROAR! Wondfusgurt. Gren… (mumbles) … lurdish soods!

This lasts for almost an hour before he decides this is not working like it normally does. This is strange because he’s totally on top of his game! He attempts to stand up and someone rotates the entire tavern around him – the entire fucking tavern! What level of trickery is this?? He sees Tholannan on the dance floor and starts towards him, getting bounced back and forth by people along the otherwise open pathway. What the hell is wrong with everyone? Why treat a man of the red robe in this way? Tholannan must not see him because now he’s danced all the way to the other side of the floor.

No one else seems affected by this… It would probably be good to leave this place before whoever is behind this captures him. He attempts to make his way to the door, but this agent of pranks makes the entire world roll around him as if he is inside a d20. Finally, he reaches the door and drags himself outside. Once there he sees two people about to fight and runs at them. Obviously still inside this blasted bubble of doom, the ground spins up towards him and smashes into his face. The two actors nearby look at him with half mild annoyance and half mild amusement. They look back at each other and proceed to practice their scene.

Tholannan continues to dance until the song’s end. At which time he asks his partner, “what time do you get out of here tonight?” He then uses Thaumaturgy to lower the lights around them. She is speechless. He whispers, “get one of them to cover for you, let’s get out of here.” She replies, “Ok” and the two leave the tavern immediately. When they exit, they see Qarzdaq on his face. She starts, “Isn’t that…?” but Tholannan directs her away from him and they continue down the street.

Qarzdaq comes to and shakes his head. He now realizes everything that had happened over the past hour was due to the Schnapps. He thinks he needs to lay off the Schnapps for a bit… or maybe lay back on it?!

This night, we learn that Qhortho lasted 4 minutes, Tholannan 16 minutes, and Ornogrim 63 minutes. Ornogrim, having put in all that work, decides it’s time to leave the job behind and tells Nora they should go back to the Deep Onion. He grows more and more detached from her as they get closer to the tavern. Once they arrive, he encourages her to talk to other people and orders himself a Fireplum Schnapps. He impulsively lets out a “WOO,” beats the Schnapps, and slips out of the Deep Onion before Nora sees him leave.

Shadowsilver goes back to her room at the Winds to change out her armor to get ready for some burgling. She goes around town looking for low risk marks, making quite a bit before dawn.

Hitting the Road

The next morning, Ornogrim, Qarzdaq, and Shadowsilver meet for breakfast. Ornogrim tries to pay for his meal with Goodberries, but is promptly denied. He lets on that it was only a joke and they are permitted to continue their meal. Qhortho walks in from the internal staircase with a swagger previously unseen from him.

                ORNO:                  Qhortho, was this your first time?

                QHOR:                  Uhhh… uhhh… I don’t know what you’re talking about.

                SHAD:                   Still hasn’t happened then I guess.

                QHOR:                  Oh it happened alright. It happened for 4 hours.

The table laughs. Just then, Tholannan comes walking in from the main street entrance all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed after a quite-successful long rest.

                SHAD:                   Looks like you had a good night.

                THOL:                    You don’t know the half of it.

                ORNO:                  I like the way you guys party. I think I’m going to like being part of this Unlikely Assembly.               

After they finish eating and changing into their fine clothes – well, everyone except Ornogrim, because he has no fine clothes but does don his finest sabretooth necklace and fine boots, and Shadowsilver, because ‘fuck that guy’ – they depart for the main castle to meet with King Greydon as instructed.

They walk up to the mostly empty castle and see a line of armored guards along the back wall. The entryway seems cavernous compared to yesterday when it was crowded by open court. Ornogrim approaches a guard to announce they are here to see the King. The guard fetches the King and is open to hear any questions before they leave.

                ORNO:                  What is the farthest you would have us go along the Ocean Road?

                KING:                    That is at your discretion, but I just need you to travel as far as Casterly Rock to ensure each of the Houses along the Road gets word about our initiative. Only the Lords of those Houses should be informed; to everyone else you meet, you are independent sell swords. Perhaps guarding merchants and their caravans.

                QARZ:                   Do you know of a particular merchant or caravan we should guard?

                KING:                    No.

                SHAD:                   There is a faire or a market that will be starting soon, we should find a number of them on the road.

                KING:                    Ah, yes. You heard about the faire at Lannisport. Yes, it should start in a few weeks.

                THOL:                    Perhaps we should disguise ourselves as a merchant caravan with the intent of luring out the attack. We may be able to capture some of the raiders, we may learn valuable intel!

                SHAD:                   I can kill them and you can bring them back.

                THOL:                    … Or we could just capture them…

​                SHAD:                   I like my idea better.

                KING:                    I care not for the details of your plans; I just need the information.

                ORNO:                  Thank you your grace. We will be on our way.

                KING:                    Thank you.

They leave the castle and head for the stable.

As the stableman presents each member with their horse, he pauses for a tip. Ornogrim tips 2cp. Shadowsilver looks him dead in the eyes, refusing to offer a tip. The man has great trouble bringing out Qhortho’s horse, so he tips him 1 sp. Tholannan doesn’t even notice the man waiting for a tip as he saddles up right away and realizes how sore he is from the night before. Qarzdaq gives the man 1sp, but tells him the tip is contingent upon visiting the Temple of R’hllor, which he quickly agrees to do.

---

After four days’ travel, they see a small town up ahead. This can’t be Oak Hall already. Ornogrim wargs into Tinkey to scout ahead for danger. He sees the layout of the buildings in this “town” and determines it is more like a rest stop for merchants. Business looks remarkably slow. Tinkey flies low and gets close enough to the tavern to overhear the only two patrons talking at the bar. They are having idle chit chat about weather, drinks, lack of business in the tavern, and going back to Highgarden because of the threats on the Ocean Road.

​Tinkey returns and the crew rides towards the rest stop. They stow their horses at the mostly empty array of corrals and enter a dingy tavern. Tables and chairs are set up for a decent sized crowd, but only two men are drinking at bar stools next to each other. The Assembly takes seats at the bar and buy the men a round. They briefly discuss the pitfalls of traveling the Ocean Road.

​The men let on that there are a few hot spots along the way: between Old Oak and Crakehall, between Crakehall and Lannisport. One of them speaks of areas where side paths have been cut to circumvent the dangerous areas of road. Most of them have been found out by the bandits, but not all – and they are a closely guarded secret by the tradesmen in the know.

They depart for Oak Hall.

The road is pretty busy despite the rumors. Though, it does seem odd that there are no merchants; all the travelers are single or in groups of 2-3 without any large caches of wares or luggage.

Chaotic Evil Shadowsilver begins to emerge at this point and decides it’s been too long since she’s stolen something. She actively looks for the easiest mark while they are riding. She spots a woman riding who looks completely oblivious, riding with an open saddlebag. Despite there being other travelers all around her, Shadowsilver sees this as the best shot she’ll get. She rides up alongside and performs excellently on Slight of Hand despite having Disadvantage (for riding) vs. the traveler’s Passive Perception. She is able to snag some coins without being noticed. However, although no one else saw her steal anything, it was very strange to see someone ride that closely to another random person on the road.

A traveler rides up. Shadowsilver thinks to herself, “Great. Another man sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong. What else is new.”

                MAN:                    What did you just do there?! Excuse me ma’am, do you know this lady riding alongside you?

                LADY:                    I do not know this woman. Why do you ask?

                SHAD:                   I didn’t do anything. I’ve been riding for some time and my horse just got away from me a bit.

                MAN:                    Hmmm… seems strange. You may want to check your pockets ma’am. I can’t say I saw something for sure, but the circumstances seem strange and I am not one to stand by the wayside and let ordinary folk be taken advantage of. My name is Troy Flowers.

They all slow then stop their horses. The rest of the Assembly ride a few more steps then stop and turn around to see what has happened with Shadowsilver. No one knows the truth of what has happened, except Shadowsilver herself.

She quickly attempts to return the coins to the lady without being noticed, but fails. Both travelers notice.

                TROY:                    There! What was that there?!

Troy unsheathes a small dagger.

                TROY:                    The world would be better off without people like you.

The rest of the group rides up, not yet seeing the exposed dagger.

                THOL:                    Come on Shadowsilver, get rid of your friends here, let’s get going.

                SHAD:                   I was trying to take a couple of coins off of them, but I put them all back.

They see the dagger, but decide not to acknowledge it.

                THOL:                    Why are you talking to these people anyway? We’re never going to see them again.

                SHAD:                   I’m not talking to them, I’m talking to you.

                THOL:                    You don’t see us stopping to talk to random people on the road.

                QHOR:                  Wait. You took money from them?

                SHAD:                   Yeah, I tried to pickpocket them and then I threw it back, but they caught me.

                THOL:                    I thought they might be trying to harass you. Well… If they have their belongings returned to them, let’s just go.

The group agrees they just need to go, so they ride off along their original course without bringing the subject to a close. This does not sit well with the travelers and they gallop after the Assembly. Qarzdaq decides the best thing to do is to cast Hold Person on them, which succeeds and the two travelers fall backwards off their horses. Tholannan notices this as he looks back at the pursuers.

                THOL:                    Oh by the Mother’s Milk… Guys, really?

Shadowsilver looks back and laughs at them.

Tholannan reels around to tend to their injuries if any were sustained. The others follow him back to the bodies. Tholannan dismounts and determines that the lady broke several bones while Troy broke his neck and died upon impact. He turns to Qarzdaq, still mounted.

                THOL:                    What are you doing roughing up simple commoners?

                QARZ:                   I wasn’t roughing them up! I was just trying to diffuse the situation.

                THOL:                    This guy is freaking dead!

                QARZ:                   Unfortunately, he fell off the horse.

                SHAD:                   So just heal him real quick and let’s move on.

                THOL:                    Do you get an extra bow on your sash when you get back to the temple?

                QARZ:                   I’ll take it if they’re offering. I can’t help it when R’hllor strikes.

Tholannan heals the travelers then looks at them solemnly.

                THOL:                    I’m not sure why you tried to come after us just now, but you need to leave us be. This is for your safety.

The Assembly mounts up and rides, leaving the travelers paralyzed until the spell wears off.

An ​Unlikely Rendezvous

After another day of riding without incident, a rider comes up alongside, “You lot sure are interesting!”

The recognizable voice is that of Jonah Bick.

                SHAD:                   What the hell are you up to asshole?

Ornogrim looks around at the group for a hint as to who this is.

                ORNO:                  Excuse me sir, do I know you?

                JONAH:                If you don’t, you probably should. You’ve probably heard stories of my endeavors without ever knowing my name.

                ORNO:                  Maybe. What is your name?

                JONAH:                Jonah Bick.

                ORNO:                  With all due respect, I can’t say I’ve heard of you.

                JONAH:                Better for me then. I’ve been following you for stints now and again over quite some time and you never cease to amaze. Now you’re in aid to the King of the Reach?

He laughs in honest admiration after saying that last sentence a little louder than they’d have liked. Nearby travelers look over and act overly “normal” like one does when a cop is in their vicinity.

Ornogrim makes the universal signal for “keep your voice down.” Jonah looks around and lowers his voice.

                JONAH:                It seems like you’re interested in the goings-on of the Ironborn?

                ORNO:                  A lot more interested than letting every other traveler know of our goings-on.

                JONAH:                Alright, alright… You interested in taking some initiative and hitting one of their rendezvous points? I’d help out for an equal share of the loot.

                QHOR:                  As much as I love the fight, our job now is just to get information.

                QARZ:                   We can get information while still hitting them.

The rest of the group agrees this sounds like a fair plan.

                ORNO:                  The rest of the group seems to know you, so I’ll trust you.

                QARZ:                   No one here said anything about trust… But he can certainly hold his own in a fight.

                SHAD:                   Yes, he is extremely skilled.

                ORNO:                  Well, as long as there is some level of respect, I can work with him.

Jonah Bick describes a place as being a two-day ride and then having to scale a cliff. Ornogrim talks about his ability to shroud others’ movements when sneaking around. Jonah mentions that he had a buddy that could do that.

                ORNO:                  Sounds like a good buddy to have.

                JONAH:                Yeah, he was pretty good. He died in battle actually.

                ORNO:                  Ah. That seems to happen to a lot of people these days.

                JONAH:                It happened to be by my blade. Less of a buddy really… more of a mark. I was hired to take him out.

                ORNO:                  Alright… (now second-guessing his implicit willingness to work with the guy)

                THOL:                    Who is your employer anyway?

                JONAH:                I work for myself.

                THOL:                    So a contractor of sorts.

                JONAH:                Exactly. You’ve even hired me in the past. I have no ill will towards you.

                THOL:                    It’s always good until the contract ends. Then the hairs on my spine stand on end.

                JONAH:                Then your intuition is well-honed. To be on guard is to stay alive.

                THOL:                    Then join us friend, be of our family until our goals are mutually fulfilled.

                SHAD:                   Until you want to kill us.

The group, including Jonah, laughs at the outrageously morbid sentiment.

                THOL:                    Right! Then be gone, my friend!

​They all share another laugh, which is followed by an uncomfortable silence. Shadowsilver breaks the silence…

                SHAD:                   If you are ever in that position against me, I have more gold to put back the other way.

                ORNO:                  Hold up. I was just convinced by this group that this Jonah Bick is trustworthy. Now why do you say the opposite?

                QHOR:                  Because he’s an asshole.

                SHAD:                   I only said he is extremely skilled. Not trustworthy.

                JONAH:                Any more trustworthy than you, my lady?

                SHAD:                   Exactly.

                THOL:                    The only reason we have the Amulet is because of Jonah’s services.

                JONAH:                Some may call me evil, but I have my rules.

                QHOR:                  I could take him.

                JONAH:                Oh Dothraki, I welcome it! Would you like to try now?

                QHOR:                  Boy would I…

                THOL:                    Why don’t you just cool it, Qhortho the Mighty.

Another day goes by. The visibility gradually becomes worse due to a storm coming from the west. They make camp and awake the next morning to a cool fog. After the normal morning habit of meditation and having Tinkey scout the area, they leave camp and make way to the cliffside. Everyone is on edge.

Looking down the 80-foot cliff is a longship waving a flag of an orange kracken on a black field. The ship looks empty and is beached.

 The cliff is a little slick, but manageable. Shadowsilver swaps out her gold dragon scale armor for her rogue leathers. Ornogrim shrouds them and they begin the descent.

Qarzdaq and Shadowsilver slip within the final 10 feet and take minor injury. Once they regroup, they creep along the wall and hear voices coming from an opening in the cliffside; a cave entrance.

                JONAH:                (Whispering) This cave is their rendezvous point. They meet down here and allocate their plunder. I wasn’t sure we’d catch them in the act.

Shadowsilver whispers to Qarzdaq, “Can you Fireball them?” He responds, “Yeah, I can definitely do that.”

                SHAD:                   Ok, I’ll look around the corner first.

                JONAH:                I’ve got the least chance of being seen, I’m sure. I can take a look around the corner… Or Shadowsilver can do it. Your call on this one. (He looks around at their faces)

The group decides Jonah should do it. He peeks around the corner then turns back to the group.

                JONAH:                It looks like there are 40 of them around a campfire. A few look like they are covered in blood and there appears to be loads of loot. It’s a wide-open cavern about 100 feet wide with a 30-foot ceiling. It looks like they’re all within about 30 feet from each other.

                QARZ:                   Ok guys. I got this.

Qarzdaq steps from around the corner and casts Wall of Fire as a 30′ ring around the campfire, bringing the deadly flaming wall into existence immediately below the majority of them. Many of them burn to a crisp immediately. The Assembly + Jonah move in around the ring of fire. Soon, Ironborn are pouring out of the flames, being taken down one by one or being thrown back into the fiery wall.

Slowly and painfully, they make headway, destroying each and every Ironborn. This was a very difficult battle even with Jonah’s help.

There were three major events of note here. One was when Qhortho’s new Valyrian blade slipped from his hands and nearly sliced off Ornogrim’s nose, flying clear across the cavern, sliding across the ground, and coming to rest with a clang against the rocky rear wall. The second was when Qarzdaq’s Firebolt backfired and scorched his own face, singing his long black hair. The final one was when Tholannan channeled water to emanate from a heathen’s skull, causing it explode like a watermelon on Gallagher’s stage.

Shadowsilver, while the fighting is ramping down but her comrades still engaged, begins to pick the pockets of the deceased, getting a head start to see if there’s anything that she would find particularly useful for herself. Unfortunately for her, there is nothing in any of their pockets because all of the loot is encased in the cylinder of flame in the center of the cavern.

She considers running into it to get first crack at it, but decides against it.

Qarzdaq cancels the Wall of Fire and now reflects on how it actually worked in practice. It seems that when the Wall of Fire or Ring of Fire is created, its full damage impact is determined and that is what applies throughout the entire time it exists. Those who are unlucky enough to be in the 1′ wide path of the wall itself during its genesis, can take half that damage if they are Dexterous enough. After that point, any time someone passes through it on their turn, they take the entire damage. Any time they end their turn within 10′ of the heated side of the wall, they also take the entire damage. There are no saves for those who walk into fire… except for those who take the Lord of Light as their rightful commander – and only if he deems it so himself.

We also learned that a rogue’s ability to dodge or evade damage is not technically a resistance; it is a skill applied to their movement. As such, any damage resistance is still applicable and does not constitute a stacking of resistance, which is not possible. For instance, if someone is wearing a piece of equipment that provides resistance to all damage types, there is no added resistance effect of wearing any other damage-resistant equipment because the effect of resistance does not stack.

Tholannan casts Spare the Dying one of the Ironborn, then heals some of his damage and shakes him violently. He awakens, unfazed by being brought back from the dead.

                THOL:                    Where are you from?

                IRON:                    What do you mean, “where am I from?” (He spits blood in Tholannan’s face) That which is dead may never die.

                THOL:                    The Iron Islands I take it, huh?

                IRON:                    That which is dead may never die.

                THOL:                    Yeah, well, not so tough now, are you bitch?

​Tholannan backhands him across the face, being careful not to deal too much damage. The raider attempts to throw Tholannan off him, but Tholannan successfully restrains him to the ground with his full weight.

                THOL:                    Tell me your mission here!

                IRON:                    Our mission is always the same: raid and pillage. Pay the iron price for that which we want!

                THOL:                    Well thanks so much for the stimulating conversation. We’ll be sending you back to the realm of the dead. Shadow?

Shadowsilver pops up her head.

                SHAD:                   Huh? Oh.

                IRON:                    THAT WHICH IS DEAD MAY NEVER…

Shadowsilver walks over and slices the man’s throat without even thinking about it.

                SHAD:                   Die. Ok, so that was helpful. Let’s take a look at this…

                THOL:                    No! I just wanted you to intimidate him!

                SHAD:                   I wasn’t sure what you wanted! That was very confusing for me!

                THOL:                    What the fuck?!

                SHAD:                   I wasn’t on the same page! I get it now.

Tholannan again casts Spare the Dying, and again, heals the raider for a few hit points.

Shadowsilver attempts to intimidate the man with her blade at his neck, but this man does not fear death and the intimidation has no effect.

                THOL:                    Tell us how many people were on this boat or you’re dead.

The man looks around at the death surrounding him each at various stages of crispy.

                IRON:                    How many you count here?

                THOL:                    Who was the Captain?

                IRON:                    (Defiantly) We’re all captains.

                THOL:                    Oh bullshit! The Captain still on the boat then?

                SHAD:                   You have 10 seconds. 1…

                IRON:                    There’s no one on the ship.

                SHAD:                   2…

                IRON:                    FUCK YOU!

                SHAD:                   10.

Shadowsilver slices the man’s throat, spraying blood all over Tholannan and Shadowsilver.

They each gain 875XP.

                SHAD:                   Ok, so like I was saying… Let’s take a look at this loot.

They all look over at a smoldering pile of items. The only items that survived the flames are jewelry, gems and the metal armor and weapons. All of the various wooden weapons, leather armor, and various trinkets are destroyed.

They begin picking through what remains. The quiet that settles over them allows what sounds to be ships breaking through the waves. Looking out the mouth of the cave, they see no ships through the dense fog… yet…

​In looking around the cavern, they also notice Jonah is not around. Where the hell did he go? Did he sell them out? Just then, Jonah’s laugh echoes from the rear of the cave. Now that they take notice, there are two tunnels in the back of the cavern. It sounded like Jonah was talking to someone casually. How many others does Jonah have involved in this? What game is he playing? Maybe he doesn’t even know more ships are coming? If those are Ironborn ships, how many are there? And more importantly, how many are aboard?

Lots of questions with no answers. All they know is that they need to act pretty soon; the ships will take some time to make it the last bit to the beach, but not much – and the cover of fog will only protect them for so long. They consider taking the beached ship, but that would require a massive crew.

                SHAD:                   Why not just take all the gems and gold and just climb out of here?

                ORNO:                  Yeah.

​Now Day 270 with 24,775 total XP, the Unlikely Assembly faces some difficult choices, each with their own set of consequences.