(???, Firmridge)
Quietly scuttling through the shadows, the spy patiently waited for the servant to pass by him. His goal was a door at the narrowest point of the stronghold, behind it lay secrets that could potentially bring down the Realm.
Rumors had it that there could even be methods to bring the legendary dragon to their knees, and even ways to force the beasts into servitude.
Elation filled him at the thought of successfully capturing those secrets, for it meant new doors opened, titles achieved, and all the gold he could dream of.
Thus, he showed no hesitation once his path stood unobstructed. Getting to the door was easy, it wasn't even locked much to his momentary confusion.
The guards that usually stood close by were now changing shifts. To him it seemed that for all their vaunted professionalism, the Banners could be just as sloppy as any other guard.
While there was some hesitation within him, compared to the opportunity presented, he could not afford to backstep. With no time wasted, he quietly opened the door, and entered swiftly, leaving the door firmly shut behind him to avoid arousing suspicion.
A short dark corridor stood before him, barely lit by torches that looked almost eerie to the naked eye. Moving forward, his footsteps were barely audible to any that might be closeby.
There was no presence of life anywhere to be seen, just an empty corridor waiting to be explored.
The spy quickly reached the end of the corridor, only to find a stairway for his troubles. Impatient, he continued to make his way down, confident that he was safe, now that he managed to escape the eyesight of the guardsmen.
Finally reaching the bottom, his eyes adjusted to a blinding brightness. Once he got his bearings straight, the figure peered around, trying to look for anything incriminating or important.
It was a fairly sizable room, filled to the brim with trinkets, tomes, and confusingly enough, priceless jewelry. All these objects were placed haphazardly on bookshelves and workbenches that hugged the walls of the room.
That wasn't the most shocking thing though. At the center of this area were a few tables whose contents wouldn't look out of place in the dark corners of a Bolton's keep.
There were organs, guts, and unidentifiable materials that lay neatly atop them, and they looked recently cut too if the pale bodies that were played on the tables directly adjacent to them had anything to say.
Whoever had done so, had made sure to do a thorough job of it. At least that was what he could make out with his inexperienced eyes.
Yet, even that pales in comparison to the body dead center, it was child-like in size, with nut-brown skin and pale spots, obviously bare. He could barely make out sharp claws right on what he assumed to be fingers. There were what he assumed to be leaves and flowers seemingly woven into the thing's hair.
What was more outrageous was the slitted eyes that were floating on a jar right next to the body, looking as if it was staring directly towards him, as if warning him of the cost of trespassing.
It wasn't human… Whatever that was, it came right out of the terrible tales his father would scare him with when he was a child. No, he had to inform his employer of this.
The Mudds had access to unnatural beings, clearly the work of witchcraft and sorcery.
Such blasphemous and unholy actions needed to be put down, lest it place them all in danger and bring down the wrath of the Seven on them. Not only his lady, but the faith needed to be informed as well.
How dare Mudd throw out the tenets of the faith so blatantly? Just as he was about to make his way back, he heard a silent noise not far off him.
Turning his head around to find where it came from, he felt several stings on his neck. Trying to make sense of the situation, his head felt dizzy and his mind was shrouded with fogginess.
Grabbing at what was on his neck, he could vaguely make out a dart, no… several darts on his person. Holding the dart groggily, he raised his head only to see a woman in white staring curiously at him, having appeared out of nowhere much to his horror and confusion.
The spy could barely make out what she was saying, uncaring of her words as panic struck him and he fell onto his knees.
Everything began to turn dark around him. Perhaps it was clarity before death, but he could make out some words at the end of it all.
"How nice of the Old Hag to send me a fresh body, it's always a delight to cut through them."
…
(Erlend Mudd)
A loud bang broke him from his concentration. Forcing him to look up to see his most eccentric lover's pearly white grin.
"You'd never believe what I just stumbled upon." She started.
Putting the quill down, "Go on?" Giving his lover all his attention.
Playing the guessing game when one was swamped with paperwork was never a good idea. So it was better to just let her say it outright and save him the trouble.
"A new experiment subject… The boy practically handed himself gift-wrapped too." Her words would've horrified a normal person, so it was a good thing he was neither a normal nor a particularly good one.
"Olenna's little rodent finally made a move?"
"Yup, finally lost his patience and left his little corner. Honestly, it took him long enough, it was getting boring waiting for him to do so."
"Just make sure to remove any traces of his presence, no reason to have you get the Bathory treatment." Erlend cautioned her.
"The Blood Countess… Please love, I'm far too professional when compared to that fairy tale hag, she was far too sloppy with her work."
Erlend didn't really know what to say to that. In order to teach his children from making the same mistakes historical figures from the past had committed, he would spin tales of 'fictional' characters and their terrible fates and then pass them to his children as fictional stories.
If it can work for the Germans, it can work for him. Not that Westeros lacked such characters, but it was oddly fun, so he did it anyway.
"Torturing and killing her own students, really how blatant can you be, tch…" Malora criticized the supposedly fictional character, ironic considering her abilities.
He wondered how the Countess would feel if she heard his lover's words.
Letting out a sigh, "Just be careful love, I'd rather not have to wipe out too many people just because they think you're a witch. At least wait till I fully control the faith." Erlend said.
Her response was to nod at him, lightly pecking him on the lips before rushing out, no doubt to dissect the spy. Poor lad, then again it was part of the risk when it came to espionage.
All the 'spies' within the fortress were already known to him. Most were slated to meet a grisly end, while the rest were likely to meet the same fate as Olenna's pawn.
Truthfully, the last thing he expected to find in this world was a technical mad scientist and one who would become his lover of all people.
It didn't bother him much, Malora was remarkably efficient and had helped a lot. No reason to stop her, if it made her happy and benefited them both.
There was also Marwyn who occasionally helped her with her experiments when he wasn't busy with official duties. The so-called mage was quite insightful when it came to uncovering how exactly the tree demon's traits came about.
His knowledge also helped the two look at things from a different perspective and make breakthroughs much easier.
Come to think of it, he really should get around to taking control of the faith, letting them run around like headless chickens was no longer as useful as it previously had been, especially now that the ironborn were finally dealt with.
None of the candidates could really get the support needed to rise, and it didn't look like that would change anytime soon. Even the drunkard failed and he was practically the most popular of the candidates.
Which said a lot about the future of the faith if they were left to their own devices. Hmm, perhaps he should take a cue from the English monarchs and take things into his own hands.
Initially, Erlend intended to just place the imperious on the High Septon and key figures within the faith, but it seemed much wiser to just personally take charge, saving him much grief.
Unfortunately it would take time to 'naturally' make his changes realistic and believable. Nobles tended to accept gradual change more easily over sudden ones.
Not that he wouldn't imperio them anyway, but it helped to be sure about things.
…
(Olenna Tyrell, Highgarden)
"We've lost contact with the spy in the Rock."
Turning to her grandson, Olenna didn't look too pleased, just days after losing her man in the capital, she found herself losing another to the lions.
Their newfound paranoia had them eliminating anyone they found suspicious, regardless of how long they had served them. It gave her a new headache to deal with alongside the broken marriage of her son.
Alerie had lost all interest in even keeping up the pretense of a happy sham, something many of their vassals and their toadies had sensed and were taking full advantage of.
The Hightowers were rising, as they always somehow did, and it did not escape anyone's grasp just how close that lunatic Malora was to the King.
If the trout was his Queen and stabilizer, then Malora was his confidant, one that seemed startlingly well-informed, to the point that Olenna began to suspect that she was the crown's true spymaster.
Mace didn't help the matter by acting out as he always did, puffing up his nonexistent pride at the resurging pressure brought on by their vassals. Sometimes she couldn't help wondering if he was her son.
"Willas, you are not allowed to show any weakness to these… vermin, they will strike if they smell blood."
"Understood grandmother, Lord Tarly said much the same when I last visited."
"Of course he did."
The only mercy was the Tarlys finally throwing their support in with the Tyrells. Future kinship obligating the warlord to make a stand, lest his future goodson end up becoming a mere figurehead.
"Aunt Janna was upset about the spy, she said that as punishment, his Majesty would do nothing to back us up."
Olenna snorted at that naive statement, "Willas, he was never going to help us in the first place. As far as the crown is concerned, a divided Reach is a good Reach."
"But aren't we the breadbasket of the continent? this could raise the cost of grain and food."
"They would simply put the blame on us, the Riverlands produces more than enough to feed itself and the Vale, while still having enough to sell to their key supporters…"
"Thereby leaving only Dorne and the Westerlands to suffer through the rising costs."
Willas looked aggrieved by this but could do nothing but swallow it. The Crown did have good reason to distrust them, the spy being only the tip of the iceberg.
"There's also the Osgreys and the Rowans, they haven't exactly made things easier, especially with the recent 'bandit attacks' on the border between the West and the Reach."
To them, this was a sign of weakness from the Tyrells, and the Lannisters' retaliation for her part in inflaming the divide between the cadet and main branch. As far as those two major houses were concerned they shouldn't be paying the price for their overlord's transgressions.
"I'm aware, let them stew for a while. If they can't deal with mere bandits, how dare they try to cause trouble for us!"
Olenna wasn't blind, those were obviously no mere bandits, the Crown had nearly wiped out all such groups after conquering the Reach. No, the lions were back to playing the game and they weren't feeling merciful.
Slowly but surely time was catching up to her, and her family was diminishing in power and influence thanks to their past mistakes. She didn't want everything she worked so hard for to fall with her, not like the old lion.
Willas was her only hope, the rest of the family being either muscle-heads or oafs like her son, Perhaps it was time for Gormon to return from his petty power plays in the Citadel, they needed him now more than ever.
"Word has it that someone is looking for methods to kill Dragons," Willas added as if it was an afterthought.
She was fully aware of this request, practically anyone with a network in the dark was aware, but it showed that her grandson was slowly building up his own base if he was able to catch wind of it.
Pride filled her as he took his first foray into the shadows, "If your father is to be trusted, these dragons are nothing like their predecessors, trying to look for a method would just bring the King to our doorstep. Just ignore it, we can't afford to stir up the King's ire at the moment."
"I understand, it's interesting that someone still dares to do such a thing, especially after the Warlock incident."
The concentration and seriousness on his face made her want to pinch it, such a driven lad, he was definitely going places, unlike her disappointment of a son. House Tyrell needed thinkers, strategists, and strong men, not a steward stumbling blindly onto a game he had no business getting into.
"One thing this world does not lack is fools and blind men. Always keep that in mind Willas."
"..."
…
(???, Undisclosed)
Mudd was quiet.
Far too quiet for his liking, seeing as he was publicly regarded as one of those 'leeches' as those Westerosi barbarians referred to him, this wasn't something he found all too appealing.
Trade was beginning to decline between Braavos and the Sunset Kingdoms, at least the ones that proved to be advantageous to them in the past, with many merchant princes finding their purses tightening by the day.
Looking at the domes and towers around him, he felt only trepidation. Long gone were the days of comfort and pleasure, now dread was all he could feel and expect.
Mudd hadn't yet made a move, yet his lackeys started the process on his behalf in an attempt to curry favor with the Conqueror.
Those idiots had leaked their intentions, blindly allowing all to see their ambitions.
Wanting to bring down the dragons was one thing, but so blatantly revealing it gave everyone a headache, one that refused to go away. Anyone with a remotely comptent spy network was able to discover their objective.
Meaning Erlend was fully aware of what was happening and the Iron Bank took personal offense to that, acting like his personal attack dogs.
The keyholders had gone after the most obvious conspirators and milked them dry.
There have been no deaths or disappearances yet, but surely it will begin soon. Was his decision early on a good one? That question haunted him more than once.
Faced with the consequences of his failure, he almost felt like taking it all back. The golden crown did not fall as originally predicted, rather it was reforged to become stronger than it had any right to.
Even at their peak, the Mudds had not been as strong as they were now.
Those barbarian vassals harped on about how backward the east was, yet they hadn't even remotely advanced, despite having one of the foremost knowledge hubs in the world.
Look at where that got them, someone from the east had essentially conquered them, even if he regarded himself as 'Westerosi'. Their damn ancestors, be it the First Men, the Andals, or the Rhoynar, all originated from the eastern continent and they still dared to look down on Essos.
Was it a wonder many here regarded them as nothing more than unwashed barbarians?
Mistakes were made and now he had to deal with it, letting the boy live after his father and mother's death was a costly one. Now it was coming to bite him, presenting a threat that not even his ancestors could match.
Death was a mercy compared to what he wanted to do to the damned Mudd.
Erlend Mudd was an enemy he despised with all his breath. The losses caused by him were insurmountable, and he continued to bleed him wherever the self-proclaimed Conqueror could.
Something had to be done, with so many unreliable pawns, it looked like he would have to take care of things personally. Leaving it to others was no longer something that could be afforded.
Ferrago was a man of indomitable will, the first person in centuries to succeed in breaking the veneer of invisibility that those cockroach crowns boasted since the fall of the Valyrians.
Their fearsome Wardens, both from the shadows and the light were nearly brought low and caught unaware, it felt invigorating just knowing how well his plot worked in the past. He succeeded once and was sure he could do so again, they were but mere stepping stones to him.
House Antaryon's rise was not something that could be stopped, that he was sure of. If he had to sacrifice himself to ensure it, then so be it.
As far as he was concerned, it was a price worth paying.
======
Note: A name for our 'mysterious' schemer! I can confirm he is a canon character, just adding a little depth to his sickly character you see. As for the whole inquisitive scientist shtick, it just felt right when it came to Malora, especially coming from a House so focused on accumulating knowledge and as old as it is. I wonder how Alerie would feel if she knew what her big sister got up to now that there were no moral restraints to hold her back. As for Olenna, it was more of a wake-up call, making her realize she had far bigger issues to deal with, outside of undermining her liege.