Thread: Gulltown

Who here is Ser Brydan? A loud voice demanded. At first Brydan didnt reply, taking immense interest in his tankard. He never trusted the local authorities. They could be under orders from the late King to ensure the Velaryon sprout didnt outlast him. It could be certain relatives of a dead merchant looking for revenge. They could just as easily be friends and allies of his. He glanced very conspicuously to see just who the messenger was, nearly laughing aloud at his own paranoia. A maester in grey robes and a thick chain of many metals was at the threshold of the tavern, glancing about with annoyance. Harmless enough. Brydan raised his hand in signal and the man promptly approached, looking quite annoyed at his delayed response. A raven came for you. You have proof of identity? Brydan showed the hilt of his sword, having the sigil of House Velaryon embedded in its brass surface. The maester seemed satisfied. Do you want me to read you the message? The grey-haired man asked impatiently. I can read well enough. Brydan shot back. People judged by his poor appearance and profession as a hedge-knight that he was illiterate and stupid. He snatched the small scroll of parchment and waited until the maester left. Then he read it. Then he smiled and finished his mead in one go. Interesting news. Ah, Lorra. Brydan mused, remembering a certain little incident on a certain little merchant vessel several years back. He paid his fare for the drinks then collected his gear, heading off to a certain discreet tavern on the edge of the port-settlement, beyond where the local town guards patrolled. For the profession that Lorra happened to be involved in, it was wise to find such low-key harbours to port at to avoid drawing attention. It was a short walk there, leaving the settlement by an unmarked north road that followed the coast. He passed a few hamlets and homes, mostly ignored, until he came to an unmarked structure with stone foundations and wooden, sand-swept walls. Judging by the presence of strong horses with rich saddles and embroidery, as well as several guards in many forms of livery, Brydan had some idea of what was going on. He took a nice vantage point by the entrance, crossing his arms with the hood of his cloak falling over his face as he observed the proceedings. A dozen or more slave girls were lined up on a stage, frightened and bound, while men in rich clothing and flashy jewelry bid on their price of sale. His eyes drank them fully, absorbing their every detail with a soft smile and a small fire of arousal in his abdomen. He did not expect Lorra to have become so successful in the time since he had last seen her. Apparently she became quite the successful slaver and pirate, and woe to her if the Court at Kings Landing caught whiff of her trade. Thankfully, another King had them bottled up at the present, allowing many underworld types to ply their trade without interference for the time being. He watched as various girls were bought and sold, at prices that Brydan would have killed to have in his own pocket. He couldnt even afford the cheapest of prices bid so far, causing him to bristle with jealousy. Brydan Velaryon made no move to make himself known, remaining in the shadows near the entrance as his eyes wandered in search for the pirate captain. This was her auction and sure enough, there she was, center stage dictating the rules. When he saw some foreigners from across the narrow sea, he spat openly on the floor as he mumbled a curse at them, despising their kind entirely. He knew this was Lorras gig, but perhaps she wouldnt be against him robbing one or two of the foreign scum when they set out. When next he saw Lorra's eyes sweep the crowd, he would gesture to her, letting her know he was here if she wished to speak to him. Respectfully, he would wait until business was concluded before he did so himself.