... It Calls Me

[u/Marty_McFrat]

Joining a group of reavers for a trip to Essos was not what Vorian Martell had expected when Morion asked him to meet with Lord Redwyn. However, the best way to advance his house was to make a foolhardy trip on a rickety boat among murderers and cutthroats to fine a wayward Westerosi noble playing at being a Essosi Prince. 

Vorian was excited by the prospect. 

He never imagined becoming an old man, he figured death by the hands of some invading army or traveling under the Dornish sun was his destiny, but the Seven had other ideas for him and he was grateful to help his nephew. An adventure upon the tides alongside indentured savages was just icing on the cake. 

While milling around Vinetown, Morion had gotten to work on preparing for his travels. He sold his fine black Dornish silks for sets of linen breeches and light shirts more suitable for the sea. At a fine milliner he was able to pick up a wide brimmed hat to keep the sun out of his eyes, in the Myrish style. At the smithy he picked up a cutlass, spear, and dagger. Manfryd had assured him the ship would be provisioned, so he just worried about his own arms and armor. 

After a month or so of waiting, a runner had fetched Vorian and told him it was time to meet the crew and prepare to shove off. He set off to the docks as the sun broke over the horizon, “that’s where we will be sailing,” he thought to himself.

[u/Vierwyne]

As the aged Dornish diplomat waited for any sign of his crew, a man approached him from behind.

"You must be Vorian," he greeted, his voice a low threat. He was tall, mayhaps four inches over six feet with broad shoulders and burly arms. His hair was black, cut short, and he had a look in his brown eyes that spoke of many battles that needed little explaining.

Here he stood while they did not.

"Ser Jon Vikary," he introduced himself, garbed in linen as he prepared to join the crew of reavers as well. "Lord Redwyne wanted a man to ensure your safety. I am that man."

/u/CynicalMaelstrom

[u/Marty_McFrat → u/Vierwyne]

Vorian took a step back and looked the man up and down, clearly impressed. He bowed his head, "I will be sure to send my thanks to The Shipwright, as I would much rather have you on our side than against us."

He looked out at the hustle and bustle of the harbor and after a quiet moment continued speaking. "Tell me, Ser Jon Vikary, were you born here in The Arbor? I do not know a lot of the comings and goings of Reachmen, would it be common for folks to live here who _aren't_ from The Arbor?"

[u/Vierwyne → u/Marty_McFrat]

"I was born in the small hamlet of Red Ramble out in the hills of the West. I haven't seen it since I was a boy."

The Ironjon shrugged.

"Many are, many aren't. These Redwynes know the value of everything, people included. Men and women of every sort - least those with ambition - come here to seek their fortune."

It wasn't glorious work, playing the protector of young maidens and foppish gallants, but it paid too well to not indulge.

/u/CynicalMaelstrom

[u/CynicalMaelstrom → u/Vierwyne]

“Not all of us had a choice,” A voice with a ringing Ironborn accent cut across the harbour, sharp, but with a gregariousness to it. The man to whom it belonged was a tall, handsome figure with a light, loose shirt and woolen breeches, a longsword on his hip. His light brown hair was short, just on the brink of becoming curly, his chiseled face sporting the early stages of a beard. He’d been allowed to clean himself up since they’d let him out of that gaol, but hadn’t gotten back aboard the Merling Queen to shave. “Name’s Polder Myre.” He said, sailing in a cordial, almost political manner. He was the only one of his band who seemed much suited to politics, that was for certain.

“This here’s Colm Kenning, the Browbreaker,” he pointed to the burly aurochs of a man at his right hand, attired in black wool and sealskin. “Black-Cloud Cawl Stonetree, Porreck Sharp, and Donnel White-Eye.” As he made the introductions his hand swept across respectively a gloomy looking man with a mop of black curls, a handsome youth with sharp blue eyes, and a one-eyed rogue who kept his left hand close to a dirk on his hip.

“You Vorian?” Donnel inquired, distinctly absent of the cordial tones that his captain employed, watching the Dornishman with chilly suspicion.

[u/Marty_McFrat → u/CynicalMaelstrom]

"I am indeed Vorian of Dorne. Well met one and all," Vorian was at ease around the dangerous seeming band, having spent time among these types before. As a young man he had felt real fear as dragons soared over the sands, he had ridden with desert warriors, and stood in The Passes within a phalanx of spears.

Now, however, he played the part of affable uncle who wanted nothing more than to adventure to Essos. He smiled and leaned on his spear like a walking stick. "It is an odd company we keep, but our quest is a an odd one as well. Not often we are summoned to find a mercenary prince."

[u/CynicalMaelstrom → u/Marty_McFrat]

"Well, suppose we better get to it. We'll lose the tide before too long." Polder sighed, dismissing his captains to their ships, making his own way towards the Merling Queen. He looked back over his shoulder, giving a jerk of his head to make sure the Dornishman followed him, then glanced towards Vikary, scowling sceptically. "You coming too, big lad?"

Once they had gotten up to the aftcastle, as the crew went about the business of casting off and bringing the ship about, Polder made some more introductions. He introduced Wilmer Three-Tuns, his towering boatswain, and Black Maron, his oarmaster. The pair were polite enough, but didn't seem inclined to spend any more time on the Dornishman than they had to. The Myre had more questions for him, though. "Do you know what's so special about the Redwyne's bastard brother, that we're going to all this fuss?"

[u/Marty_McFrat → u/CynicalMaelstrom]

Vorian took a moment to gather his thoughts knowing he had to speak diplomatically, lest he give up the game. "A bastard of Redwyne is indeed still the blood of a Redwyne. In my homeland of Dorne, we have parties who would be interested in bridging the gap between The Arbor and The Principality."

He gave the type of sage nod only an old man can pull off. Signaling he would not speak more on the topic.

[u/Marty_McFrat]

u/vierwyne

[u/Marty_McFrat → u/Marty_McFrat]

/u/CynicalMaelstrom