(Collab with [@MrDidact] and [@kingkonrad])

Meanwhile, Aemon, was understated in a black leather ensemble that made him look like a pirate captain not given to extravagance. Stubble now covered his cheeks and mouth, and his hair was now long enough to be tied into a bun, reminiscent of his father's youthful style. Coupled with the daggers at his hip, he looked every inch the hired killer and the crowds steered clear from him. 

They made their way through the town and to a stout keep that overlooked the port, winding their way up a muddy hill. At the top they saw a wooden gate and were stopped by soldiers with a red anchor badge on their jerkins. The serjeant held out a hand, "Stop, who goes there?" 

Aemon drew himself up and spoke in Common accented by bastard Valyrian, "Captain Valarr Draxos, here to see Lord Kurzon." 

The serjeant squinted, "Draxos eh? Lord Kurzon wasn't expecting you." 

"Well, I am here now, and I have business with him. Tell him I'm here to talk." 

"What about?" 

"That's between me and your lord, now go be a good lackey and fuck off." 

The serjeant squared up, trying to assert his authority, "I should have your tongue ripped off for that, Corsair or no." 

Aemon's face became cold, "And I should kill you where you stand for wasting my time." 

The serjeant blinked, beginning to become nervous, and his men started reaching for the pommels of their swords while Aemon stared him dead in the eye.

Standing there behind the Prince along with the others in their group, Taria was beginning to wonder whether chosing the lord over prostitutes may have been the wrong way to go about it.

At first it had been a hard decision, wondering whether to follow Aemon's group or Viserys'. Taria would have preferred the latter as she knew him better, but once the word 'brothel' came into play, she volunteered to visit the local lord instead. It was silly, perhaps, but for the most part, her decision was due to personal reasons. Looking the part of scum and one of lower birth was no harder for her than drinking water.

[i]Decisions be damned,[/i] she told herself, a frown splayed on her face as she watched the serjeant's men. Her own hand was inching toward her sword, readying herself for a fight if it was necessary. It would seem the fight on the ship had done some good to her confidence.

And Ellion thought that to himself, the Tyrell already preparing his own bldae from his hilt. No armour this time, remember, he said to himself. He knew shit was about to get very hairy any second now, given that Aemon was playing this on confidence, not on brute force. Ellion didn't say anything, standing tall by his side, knowing he had the Prince's back. This was a future King, for fuck's sake, crawling in the mire. Ellion knew he had to protect him, and given his talent with a blade, he knew he could make it count when the time came to make sure no harm came their way. Depending on numbers of course. When out of plate, movement was key, and Ellion knew that it was the core to fighting in a place like this. Never being predictable, never being unassertive, always holding the back foot. 

Aemon for his part, did not avert his gaze and did not move to draw his sword, staring down the man until finally the serjeant backed down, "Very well, I'll go inform his lordship. Apologies, Captain." The Serjeant ran off, and Aemon and the party waited until he came back and called or the gates to be opened. Aemon led his party inside the keep. Most of the soldiers had been called to war, and the remainder were mostly old men or green boys. They stared fearfully at the apparent pirates as they strode into the stone castle. 

The household guard proper were of much sterner stuff and had the look of sellswords, likely toughs recruited right from the docks. Their hands were always near their swords and watched the newcomers closely. The Lord Kurzon sat in the great hall at the lord's table, which seemed to be a piece made of driftwood. The "lord" looked every inch the pirate, his beard dyed blue in the Tyroshi fashion and his robes belted with all manner of nautical trinkets, a curved saber at his hip and not a longsword. He was young, this lord, of an age with Aemon and was most likely some pirate friend of Salladhor Saan or Aurane Velaryon. 

Kurzon inclined his head at the  party who all bowed their heads in respect. Kurzon raised his hand, telling them to rise, "Captain Draxos. The Captain of the famed Silver Serpent. I heard you sailed for the Scorpion. Why should I receive you here instead of turning you over to Lord Aurane?" 

Aemon replied evenly, "I no longer sail for the Scorpion. The Grey Septon and I were taken on the sea by the royal fleet. The Septon had his head chopped off, and I bent the knee. Now I work for the crown as a Corsair." He produced a royal document, drawn up for this very occasion, and passed it to a servant who brought it to the Lord. Kurzon seemed satisfied with the document and passed it back. 

Kurzon nodded, "So what brings a Corsair of the Royal Fleet to my humble port town?" 

Aemon said, "We're hunting my former comrades. They've all gone to ground with the war, and I know you have fingers in every pie on your half of this island. You know where I can find them." 

Kurzon frowned, "You're suggesting I have dealings with the Scorpions? That I have feet in both camps?" 

Aemon smiled, "I am. And I know it to be true. But I also know that you're a businessman and you have no loyalty to anyone but yourself. It is no moral ordeal with you to turn on the Scorpions again." 

Kurzon grinned in reply, "True. But then it is also no ordeal for me to turn on you." The guards in the hall, all of them seasoned warriors had their hands flow close to their hilts. 

Aemon cocked his head, "You will turn on the crown?" 

Kurzon shook his head, "I will be bringing the crown's justice. You never took the crown's peace. You approached me to rejoin with your old Scorpion friends. After destroying a merchant ship a few miles from here. I executed you all and mounted your heads on the port gates. The crown will reward me for bringing justice to pirates. I'll get rid of some paupers infesting the docks. And the Scorpions will pay me handsomely for delivering a traitor to them. At least you will get to meet them Captain."

This time Aemon did move his hand to the pommel of his sword, which none of them had recognized as Blackfyre. Aemon scowled, "Try this and you'll regret it Kurzon." 

"Oh I don't think I will." 

[i]Well this went from good to bad to worse really fast.[/i] Taria hadn't expected Kurzon to be chummy with them, but she also hadn't thought they would be forced to pull their swords so quickly. Her teeth gritted, hearing the lord's proposal to execute them. It made sense if she thought about it from his point of view. Unfortunately for him, she very much wanted her head on her neck rather than a spike.

She grabbed the hilt of her sword, hand tightening as she pulled it from her belt, holding it before her. The frown on her face deepened, eyes moving this way and that as they took in the men that Kurzon had as his guard. They looked a tougher breed than the ones outside. 

There were around a score of guards in the great hall, all of them with swords or axes, and the servants shuffled quickly from the room as Kurzon leaned back in the seat, confident that the greater amount of men would make quick work of the small number. The doors of the great hall were shut and barred and the guards took up a circle around them, Aemon urging all of them to stand back to back. Aemon did not yet draw his sword. 

Shit was getting real, and Ellion took them in, looking back at Aemon, back close, as he knew what was going to happen here. It was a good thing he had his strength back, because he knew they were outmanned, outnumbered, and would have to tear some throats out. He had kept his mouth shut, let Aemon talk, Ellion drawing his blade, looking across, as he looked across at a few of the guards, the golden-brown glint in his eys, the sword's steel not rusty, nor unused, catching a glimpse of Aemon.
"Well then. Looks like we're going to have a fun little dance." 

Aemon nodded, sighing, "Should have taken the deal Kurzon. Leave the lord alive men. Get rid of the rest." Kurzon frowned, then his eyes boggled in his head when Aemon drew Blackfyre from his sheath as the nearest guard leaped at him. Aemon knocked the sword out of his hand and chopped his head clean off, slicing away at his compatriot as the score of guards all closed on them at once, charging them with weapons raised as the hall clanged with steel. 

Ellion yelled, as the pair of axemen came towards him, as he parried one, kicking the other away as he pushed the sword through one's throat, moving with a certain finesse as he pulled it out, blocking another. He moved with a certain prowess, this wasn't a Water Dancer, but he had known more than just Westerosi standards of fighting, movement was key and never stopping was important. Being unpredictable, brutal, and hard-hitting, especially with the pleathora of weapons. Rather than being passive and letting the hits come, response was critical.

Ellion blocked the blade, knocking his arm out as he slashed across, the man yelling as the sword cut from his shoulder to his abdomen, the yelling allowing Ellion to step past and take on another man, close to Aemon. He was tough, as he put up a fight, keeping himself close to Aemon, as he blocked another attack, waiting for a spell to respond to this. He pushed again, as Ellion came close, ducking his high-attack and colliding into him, throwing him on the ground and driving the sword into his chest, yanking it out as he looked across, a few cuts across his shirt, as he spat blood, knowing he'd knocked teeth.
"Come on then!" Ellion yelled, looking back at Aemon, the blood on his sword showing it also that he was making a bloody mark.

The Lord Commander of the Kinsguard fought more traditionally, sword gripped in two hands as he hacked away at the pirates, not giving any ground and standing firm as he took all comers. Men tried to slip past his defense, they all failed. Guts were left on the floor, heads rolled along the boards, and hands were chopped off of the wrist. Nearby Rakharo fought like a demon, slashing with his arakh and dancing and leaping around in bloodrider fashion. Aemon fought with his back to Ellion, sliding a dagger out of the hilt and dual wieldling it with Blackfyre. He stabbed one man through the chest and thrust the dagger through another's eye socket, kicking them both back and parrying every blow expertly. Kurzon got nervous and fervently rang a nearby bell, doors opening as another dozen guards came into the room to join the melee. Already ten men were dead with no casaulties, and the circle held strong. 

A water dancer came at Ellion, rapier in hand as he stabbed and thrust at the young knight, attempting to turn him into a pincushion while some brute with a great-axe dove at Aemon, snarling in the brindle tongue. Aemon dodged the bigger man's swipes, trying to land his own blows with the dagger and sword but being rebuffed, the brindleman deceptively quick. 

Ellion saw the water dancer come, taking his response as he pushed forward, knowing he was faster. He blocked, letting him push on, as he turned, yelling as he slashed him across the side with a retract of his blade, knocking him back onto the floor. He came in close again with the rapier, as Ellion parried with the sword, a sharp kick to the shins giving him a moment to at least come level with him, back on his feet again, staring him down. Holding the sword in both hands, he let the dancer come first, clashing swords as he smashed his head against his, knowing it would be a brutal, yet unorthodox move. 

Blood pouring from his mouth, Ellion also felt the blood run from his side, as he knew the dancer was dazed, a litlte taken aback by it, knowing his strength had at least taken him off guard, and well, Ellion had that to boot. He let him come forward again, the man now not as focussed, and Ellion had to understand that his opponent was better than him, that was key to winning this fight. He was going to tire himself, and as was this man. This had to end now.

Dodging the sword, Ellion charged, with a yell, spitting blood as he caught him in the abdomen, hurling him down to the floor with a well timed turn, turning the sword in one hand and with two, then thrusting it down into his head. It was a messy sight, as it went into his nose, as Ellion breathed out, pulling it out as another man charged him. Ellion was dazed, as he parried the sword, struggling. But he found the man's weakness with the spear, knocking it from his hands with a bloody slice, taking a few fingers as he sliced his throat, the pointed precision still good, though messier than he'd like, as Ellion saw Aemon face down the axe-wielding man. He found his side, seeing Aemon be on his toes, dodging the axe and his movements, as he came around his side. 

The axeman didn't see it coming, as Ellion stabbed the pointy end through his back, cutting him down a little to size, as Ellion pushed him onto the floor, panting. A stolen kill, perhaps, but Ellion didn't want Aemon to tire, he wanted to keep him out of his way, as he imagined Aemon would try to do for him.
"Seven Hells!" Ellion looked at Aemon, knowing he was a little wounded and showing the wear in his eyes, but had to keep fighting, despite the hurt, the material was setting into the wound a little, and he knew whilst he wouldn't bleed out, it stung hard, even despite the adrenaline running through his veins. 

Some Ghiscari with a spear ran at Ellion, yelling and stabbing out with his spear at the back of the Reachman. Aemon charged forward, parrying the spear tip off of Blackfyre with an upward swing and turning into a swipe that lopped off the man's head, before twisting at the hip and flinging his dagger into the throat of another man. Aemon fell back in with Ellion, "We can't keep this up. Someone needs to put their blade to Kurzon's throat and get them to surrender." A hedge knight tried to bash Aemon with his shield, but the prince charged back and slammed into  the man with his shoulder, kicking him back and slicing off his foot. Blackfyre stabbed through the man's visor when he fell forward. 

He shouted to Taria, "Take the Lord! Everyone else clear a path!" Aemon tried to cleave open an avenue for the young Greyjoy to charge at the pirate lord, Kurzon hesitantly getting to his feet and making to flee as a few guards turned to escort him. They needed to act now or eventually they would be overwhelmed. 

Unlike the fight with the pirates, there had obviously been no place for Taria to scuttle off to, even if she had been in the mind to do so. Thankfully, that wasn't the case this time around. Her confidence seemed to grown even further; perhaps it was the fact that unless she actually did something, she would end up very dead. Sword gripped tightly with both hands, she had struck the first guard that came her way, plunging her sword straight into the man's belly.

By the time the order came, she had killed more than a couple of men. The stench of blood and guts filled her nose, her hands and clothes stained. She was rather surprised to be alive, truth be told; she credited that to her companions, the much more seasoned fighters. It was too bad she couldn't simply watch and appreciate the way they fought, though there was a certain pleasure in being part of the bloody portrait they painted.

Panting, she nodded, eyes swerving in the direction of Kurzon. "Oh no ya don't!" She wasn't going to fail the prince and let him escape. With a single thought in mind, Taria rushed forward, ignoring the guards, leaving them for her companions. "You ain't goin' nowhere, my Lord!" She lifted her sword in a single swipe, the blade slicing upwards until it pressed against his neck. It would be so easy to apply extra pressure and slice, but she knew better than to do that. They needed the bastard alive, not dead.

Podrick and Rakharo covered Aemon's flanks as they were trained to do for all their lives, fighting in concert with Ellion as Aemon ran after Taria to cover her. Podrick cut a man's arm off while Rakharo sent another's head flying into the air. Aemon running, dodged one man's swipe and slashed him on the way without stopping, crumpling him to the side. The next man turned and received a punch to the face, followed by a quick downward slash across the chest as he went down. The next man managed to parry one of Aemon's cuts before receiving a headbutt and a thrust through the heart for his trouble. Aemon kicked him off the sword and dove for the last man, who had reached for Taria with his axe. Aemon drove him to the ground and stabbed him through the neck. 

Aemon growled, "Surrender Kurzon." 

Kurzon raised his hands in supplication and ordered his men to lay down their arms. Aemon grinned at Taria, "Good work. Rakharo, blindfold, bind, and gag these prisoners. Podrick, gather the weapons. The rest of you, cover the entrances and make sure we don't have any company. I need a chat with the lord." As they rushed to follow his orders, Aemon shoved Kurzon up against a wall, laying Blackfyre against his neck, "You probably have a good idea who I am now. So you're going to help me. Or I'll chop your head off and mount it on the city gates." 

Taria managed to keep a straight face for a moment before returning the grin. She felt proud of herself and couldn't help but let it show. "Thank you," she replied to Aemon, moving away from Kurzon. The exhilaration of winning seemed to trump the relief of surviving the onslaught. She looked at the fallen guards, satisfaction glinting in her eyes, which she then swerved to glance at her companions as she heeded the prince's order to cover the entrances.

She paused when she saw Ellion, someone she would consider a friend now, noting his wounds. Frankly, she was still a little surprised he hadn't headed off with Viserys to the brothel. "You're not gonna fall over there, are you?" It was more a jest than concern, though the latter was there as well.

Ellion walked on over, covering the entrance, looking around at Taria, knowing she felt concern for him, the Greyjoy someone that Ellion trusted deeply, perhaps just a little less than Merebelle right now.

"I think I'll be okay." He winced a little back to Taria, keeping one hand on his side, wiping the blood a little as he knew the fight had been intense, his blade still dripping onto the dry floor with blood, though Ellion himself wasn't in great nick either. He'd be fine, he guessed to himself, the cut had been mostly surface-deep but it would need some treatment, at some point.

"Greenhands don't tend to be very easy to kill anyway." Ellion chuckled, wincing a little though.

Taria nodded, smiling a little. "I guess you're right about that. Heh. It might be stupid but I didn't expect to get in a scrap so soon after getting here." She had been lucky, not gaining any wounds in the process. She hoped her beginner's luck lasted a long while.

Her smile became a bit of a smirk, a teasing lilt in her voice. "I'm surprised you came with the Prince in the first place." It hadn't been hard for her to tell in the weeks of travel that he, much like Prince Viserys, was a ladies man, and perhaps more. "In any case... you fought well. Maybe I should learn a thing or four from you."

"Maybe you will. Though...I don't know how much I can teach." Ellion looked back at Aemon, who was having fun with Kurzon right now, wiping the blood from his side and falling to his knees, gently ripping a bit more of his shirt to pad the wound, soaking up the blood, taking the wound in a little, moaning a little as he did, tying it the best he could around his chest.

Taria nodded with a smile, though it lessened somewhat when she heard him moan. Maybe the wounds weren't too serious, but still, she hoped they were looked after soon. Even a small scratch could fester if not taken care of.

"Maybe I'll just make sure to watch carefully the next time someone tries to kill us." She gave a sardonic smile in Ellion's direction before quieting, deciding to pay some attention to the prince and their captive via her ears.