Post by The Great Other on Sept 4, 2012 23:32:22 GMT -5
A Braavosi man walked down the street in the burning heat with a jig in his feet. Gerold appeared out of nowhere, calmly intercepted his path, and put a hand on his shoulder.
“Gerold! It has been a long time, no?” said the Braavosi with a heavy accent.
“A long time, yes.”
“Perhaps we should head to a tavern, play a game, buy a whore.”
“My quarters should be satisfactory.”
“I doubt you have a whore. You didn’t even get them when they were free. That cold eye of yours always looked over the most beautiful things.”
“Come. I’m not busy for at least another day. We have much to discuss.”
“Just so.”
2 hours ago, at The Mud Gate, several people came in passing the Gold Cloaks. Gerold happened to be there, and spotted a familiar face amongst the crowd. A bravo, who spent several years in The House of Black and White before meeting Gerold. An erratic man, but a good friend.
Back in Gerold’s Quarters, the Bravo inspected the room.
“Sparse. Somewhat cold. You really have an eye for style.”
Gerold ignored the jape. “I don’t leave information where my enemies could find it, and besides, all the major manses are full of little birds.”
The Bravo didn’t bother to answer, helping himself to some boiled water, sniffing it in mild disgust. He frowned.
“You don’t drink wine?”
“Not anymore. I like to keep my mind sharp.”
“A mistake, my friend. A soul without wine is a soul without joy. Perhaps you should get some for me.”
Gerold sat down behind the desk, folding his hands carefully before beginning to speak.
“I need your help Jahlil.”
The Braavosi smiled and sat down, leaning back languidly. “Go get some Arbor Gold. Then we’ll talk.”
Carrying the heavy bottle of wine back to his apartment, Gerold remembered why he left Braavos. Out of all the free cities, it was the most unstable and dangerous. Its two most well known groups were assassins and swordfighters, and Jahlil happened to be part of both.
Jahlil swallowed his wine with a smile. “Ah, Arbor gold. Never fails to amaze me. Priceless.”
Gerold went straight to the point. “Castle black is under siege, I need you to –“
“Stop. Since you seem to be ignoring my hints, it seems I have to strike an actual deal with you. One full night of fun and games, and I will do this task that you require.”
“Good. It’s relatively easy.”
“A falsehood. 1 point to me. Drink.” He poured a cup of wine for Gerold.
“Really? This game?” He frowned.
He rolled his eyes. “No.” And of course it wasn’t true.
They continued to lie for hours, deep into the night. They ran out of wine, so they bought some more. Then they drank, and Jahlil held the clear advantage, having been trained by faceless men, but as day turned into night, and night turned back into day, Gerold’s one cold eye got better and better at telling the truth, and seeing the lies. After a whole day, and several bottles of wine, they both slept for a long time.
“Your lying is still commonplace, but your eye is unclouded. You should have no trouble spotting the players from the pieces.” Pronounced Jahlil, some time later.
“Thank you.” Said Gerold, in an uncommon display of gratitude.
“Anytime, old friend. Now, this job you had in mind for me…”
(Gerold's Sense Motive increases to expert)
“Gerold! It has been a long time, no?” said the Braavosi with a heavy accent.
“A long time, yes.”
“Perhaps we should head to a tavern, play a game, buy a whore.”
“My quarters should be satisfactory.”
“I doubt you have a whore. You didn’t even get them when they were free. That cold eye of yours always looked over the most beautiful things.”
“Come. I’m not busy for at least another day. We have much to discuss.”
“Just so.”
2 hours ago, at The Mud Gate, several people came in passing the Gold Cloaks. Gerold happened to be there, and spotted a familiar face amongst the crowd. A bravo, who spent several years in The House of Black and White before meeting Gerold. An erratic man, but a good friend.
Back in Gerold’s Quarters, the Bravo inspected the room.
“Sparse. Somewhat cold. You really have an eye for style.”
Gerold ignored the jape. “I don’t leave information where my enemies could find it, and besides, all the major manses are full of little birds.”
The Bravo didn’t bother to answer, helping himself to some boiled water, sniffing it in mild disgust. He frowned.
“You don’t drink wine?”
“Not anymore. I like to keep my mind sharp.”
“A mistake, my friend. A soul without wine is a soul without joy. Perhaps you should get some for me.”
Gerold sat down behind the desk, folding his hands carefully before beginning to speak.
“I need your help Jahlil.”
The Braavosi smiled and sat down, leaning back languidly. “Go get some Arbor Gold. Then we’ll talk.”
Carrying the heavy bottle of wine back to his apartment, Gerold remembered why he left Braavos. Out of all the free cities, it was the most unstable and dangerous. Its two most well known groups were assassins and swordfighters, and Jahlil happened to be part of both.
Jahlil swallowed his wine with a smile. “Ah, Arbor gold. Never fails to amaze me. Priceless.”
Gerold went straight to the point. “Castle black is under siege, I need you to –“
“Stop. Since you seem to be ignoring my hints, it seems I have to strike an actual deal with you. One full night of fun and games, and I will do this task that you require.”
“Good. It’s relatively easy.”
“A falsehood. 1 point to me. Drink.” He poured a cup of wine for Gerold.
“Really? This game?” He frowned.
He rolled his eyes. “No.” And of course it wasn’t true.
They continued to lie for hours, deep into the night. They ran out of wine, so they bought some more. Then they drank, and Jahlil held the clear advantage, having been trained by faceless men, but as day turned into night, and night turned back into day, Gerold’s one cold eye got better and better at telling the truth, and seeing the lies. After a whole day, and several bottles of wine, they both slept for a long time.
“Your lying is still commonplace, but your eye is unclouded. You should have no trouble spotting the players from the pieces.” Pronounced Jahlil, some time later.
“Thank you.” Said Gerold, in an uncommon display of gratitude.
“Anytime, old friend. Now, this job you had in mind for me…”
(Gerold's Sense Motive increases to expert)