[b] Golden Tooth [/b] 

After some time Ser Leon and his men had finished bathing and the company of companions dressed themselves in clothes prepared for them by the servants, rich in fabric and hue but with no device or sigil. The Vikary's men own livery was stained by travel and unsuitable for a polite gathering. Ser Leon walked with Lord Lorimer to the great hall for their supper and extended his hand to shake Lorimer's, "My lord, I thank you heartily for the hospitality of your home. It is a great comfort in these trying times. Once I return to the rest of my house, I will proclaim your kindness and geniality far and wide. And you may rest assured that you will always have a place at my own hearth and table." 

[b] Gates of the Moon [/b] 

The feast was well underway and lasted for much of the night. There was food, drink, and merriment aplenty all to the tune of lively music and the chattering and japing of the Lords of the Vale. Near the feast's end, Lord Robin stood and tapped his goblet. The hall quieted as the Lord of the Vale said, "Tonight we honor my son's appointment as the first Knight Herald and agent of the Crown, and the elevation of my cousin Ser Harold to Keeper of the Gates of the Moon." The lords and knights began smacking their cups or fists on the tables in celebration. Robin cast a sideways glance at Tyrion, "We also welcome the Hand of the King to our hall. Lord Tyrion has always been a friend of the Vale." Tyrion raised his goblet in a salute while the other lords either laughed and mimicked him or kept their silence. 

Robin continued, "Our King, has charged my heir and Lord Tyrion to finally bring peace to the Vale and subdue the Hill Tribes for good and all. To that end, the new Knight Herald and the Hand are meeting with their so-called Mountain King." Many lords muttered to themselves or spit on the floor at the mention of the upstart tribesman. Robin said, "I support this measure with all my heart. And to facilitate these peace talks, I send Lord Harold to watch over my son and participate in the summit. As Lord Commander of the Winged Knights, Keeper of the Gates of the Moon, and my kinsman, I know no better choice." There was another round of cheering as Robin sat down and Harry traded a knowing glance with Mychel before turning back to his wife and family. 

Tyrion leaned in to Mychel, "Well, our job became somewhat more difficult." 

The next morning the party gathered to leave. Tyrion and his Lion's Pride led by Ser Lancelot were all saddled and ready, along with Mychel and the Lords he had gathered to their cause. Lyn Corbray and a number of Corbray knights were part of the delegation, including chivalry from House Royce, Waynwood, and Templeton. Even though Mychel had not gathered all of the houses to his personal faction, many of the high houses wished to have representatives. Lord Harry had brought along a sizable squad of Winged Knights. The party was soon joined by members of the Hill Tribes that were friendly to both Mychel and Tyrion. Tyrion was happy to see them, whereas the other lords largely were not. The hillmen and the Lannisters were kept far away from the rest of the company and they rode off to meet with the Mountain King at the place he had designated, Mychel the only Valemen who rode close to them. Lord Harry kept behind with his Winged Knights and the rest of the lords and knights followed with their retinues. 

Tyrion smirked at Mychel and said, "A varied lot we are. Lannisters, Knights of the Vale. And the venerable hill men. Charged to bring peace to the Mountain and Vale and cease over a few thousand years of struggle." 

"May the gods help us." He laughed and rode on. 

[b] Vulture's Roost [/b] 

The demon snarled at Uther, knocking aside his sword and going for the kill. It's maw nearly closed over his gut until it shrieked in pain and surprise. The demon recoiled and turned to see the young Alchemist with his sword of green fire plunged into it's flank. The demon bled black blood and beat at the flames spreading over it, it's tail lashing out around the man's neck and tightening. The youth choked, dropping his sword and flailing in the air as he kicked out in an effort to free his neck. Then a roar of challenge rent the air as Ser Andrew leaped in and hacked at the beast, driving it back before the demon smacked Ser Tarth against one of the walls of the castle, sending him tumbling down in a heap of cracked armor and groans. 

The monster turned back to Uther and swiped its' claws at him, scoring blood down the side of his face before charging at him with its other claw raised high, the alchemist still choking on the tail. 

[b] The Skull [/b] 

The time had come. Day had broken and the royalist forces had gathered. By midday, thousands of men gathered in front of the walls of the final fortress. Elephants thundered into position next to a massive siege tower and rows of siege weapons. The Vultures had collapsed the tunnels to the rest of the hidden passages and Mirren Sand's guerilla forces had been pulled back to the last waycastle to hold the garrison there along with the Reachman, the tunnel forces replaced by other men in case the Vultures tried to sneak out of the Skull. Lady Brienne of Tarth led the vanguard and her fresh forces were eager for combat. Tales of the monstrous fighting had circulated among the men, but the Stormlanders didn't seem much perturbed by the stories, almost recklessly brave. The officers and nobles were gathered at the vanguard, Ser Gendry, Ser Garlan, Ser Merrel, Mirren Sand, and the Red Woman among them. Lady Brienne of Tarth, Lord Andrew Estermont, Lord Donnel Swann, Prince Oberyn Martell, Lord Rolland Caron, Lord Dickon Tarly, Lord Edric Dayne, and Lord Harmen Dondarrion all were present armed, armored, and atop their horses. Ser Aegon Targaryen stood behind them all on the back of Viserion, the white dragon overlooking them all. Banners and pennants from over a dozen houses and companies fluttered in the air and on the walls they could see that archers and siege weapons were in clear evidence. 

A Knight Herald rode ahead to the no man's land between the vanguard and the castle and said, "The royal army, led by the Master of War, Ser Gendry of Storm's End, seeks the submission of the forces within this castle. Come out to treat with us and submit, or face our unyielding force." He rode back to the noble procession and the group waited for several moments. Moments turned into minutes and almost half an hour had passed when Gendry grunted, "Well it seems like they prefer annihilation. Very well." He turned to give the order to begin bombardment, but no sooner had he done that before the gates of the castle shuddered open and a group of riders on black horses with Vulture cloaks rode out to them. 

Gendry chuckled and kicked his stirrups. The noble delegation rode forward with a large company of guards and met the Vultures in the No Man's Land. The Vultures had all concealed their faces behind Vulture helms save for one comely man with a face freckled by the sun and turned bronze, his eyes stormy blue and his hair a dark blonde. He nodded at the nobles and smirked, "The famous Storm Bull. I am honored to make your acquaintance, ser. My greetings to all in your illustrious company." 

Gendry said, "My thanks. I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage, Ser?" 

The man smiled, "Ser Beezel. Beezel Dryland." 

Edric raised an eyebrow, "Dryland? Your line was erased countless years ago." 

Ser Beezel smiled, "Now it has returned." 

Aegon laughed, "And it will vanish again if you do not submit. I doubt you have any answer to dragonfire, demons or no." 

Ser Beezel replied, "You would be surprised Ser. Those monsters we threw at you the other day are simply the first of it." 

Gendry cut in, "Enough with the posturing. We have taken every castle on this mountain save the Skull. Thousands of your compatriots either have gone to their ancestors or lay in chains. We outnumber you ten to one. We have siege weapons. We have elephants. We have a dragon. Surrender and keep your life and those of your men. Defy us and we will take that castle, and mount your head on a spike above the gates." 

Ser Beezel threw back his head and laughed, "Ah, the famous Baratheon rage. It is quite an amusement. But I know it to be bluster. You cannot burn our castle down. You need it to maintain control of the Spine, and the Red Mountains. Destroying it serves you in no way. And you'd need all the highborn hostages you can get your hands on." 

Brienne said, "Castles can be rebuilt again, and noble hostages are not necessary for our victory. Submit, Ser and spare your life and countless others." 

Beezel shook his head, "We will not lay down our arms without a fight. And we will not make it easy."

Gendry smirked, "Even without a dragon, how do you propose to stop us? Conventional stones will kill you easily enough. As will alchemical bombs, spellflame, and water attacks. We will storm these walls and slaughter every one of you and there is nothing you can do to stop it. Except bend the knee." 

The Vulture Knight replied, "That's where you are wrong. We have magic as well. You saw it yesterday, and that was only a taste. Oh we may not be able to counter your dragon, but our witches and warlocks can call up power to lay your armies to waste. We may die, but so will you." 

Gendry said, "You're lying." 

"Believe what you wish, but storm these walls and thousands will die. Including myself. Including you. Your friends. And all of your vanguard behind you. Save for perhaps Ser Aegon and his dragon. But there is another way. A way for this matter to be decided without so much death." 

"What do you propose?" 

"A duel. Single combat. Whatever weapon you choose. If you win, you take the castle and take us as your prisoners. If we win, you will allow us safe passage to rejoin our compatriots." Beezel took off his glove and flung it at the ground in front of the party. 

Gendry replied, "Why should I agree to this if victory is certain?" 

Beezel smiled, "Oh you may win, Ser. But not without death. You heard the screams. Storm this castle and it will be so much worse. We will call down hellfire and dark forces that have not been seen in these lands for millennia. At least this way, you can enjoy your victory, and you will take the castle either way. Unless, you are afraid of losing of course. Do you doubt the strength of your arms or the justice of your cause?" 

Gendry fumed while Beezel looked around at the company, "Are none of you brave enough to take up the gage? What happened to the vaunted bravery of the royal forces? What about you, Brienne the Beauty? The Sword of the Morning? Lord Tarly? Ser Garlan? Perhaps that sellsword whore you brought along? There are many mighty warriors in this meeting, or have I been misinformed?" He smiled mockingly at the party and waited for a response. 

[b] The Roseroad, Near Tumbleton [/b] 

The supply train had been travelling for several weeks. Hundreds of wagons rolled along the Roseroad, and large groups of Tyrell men accompanied the shipment, along with retinues from several other houses. It was the largest shipment of food in recent months and yet there had been no sign of the Gardener raiders in that whole time. Several travelling peasants had attached themselves to the convoy for safety and several freeriders and hedge knights now rode with them to King's Landing, hoping to sign on to the royal forces. A number of wealthier merchants had hitched their wagons to the convoy as well. And yet for all of that, there had been no bandit attacks, the outlaws of the Reach evidently unwilling to go up against such a heavily protected train. The monsters of the Reach had also shunned the presence of so many people. 

Another week or so and the convoy would be safe in the Crownlands where the Gold Cloaks patrolled the roads with regularity and there had been little banditry or attacks. If the Gardeners were going to strike, it would be soon. Somewhere in the brush, Ser Arthur followed along. Lord Florent had command of the convoy and his banner had been proudly flying over the train for weeks. The sun was near setting, and soon they would make camp. The weather had been pleasant, and the roads well-maintained. One of the Inquisitor's men was disguised as a Brightwater man and rode along with Lord Florent, "I do not like this, my lord. I can feel trouble brewing." He cast his eyes around. For several miles now, there had been no other travelers on the road and only their procession rumbled along. It was quiet and peaceful. It was a beautiful day. The outriders had seen no sign of trouble. The man loosened his sword in the sheath.  

It came. Arrows came flying out of the trees, flaming arrows, and buried themselves in the lead wagon, several raining down among the vanguard of the procession. More flaming arrows landed in the rearmost wagon and at the rear guard. Fire started engulfing the lead and rear wagons. The warriors and their horses scattered in confusion, drawing swords and looking around for an invisible enemy. More arrows came on the body of the train, striking warrior and peasant alike. Already a few dozen people had fallen, but thankfully the main barrage was not flaming arrows. The arrows stopped and a cry arose from scores of throats, "Spring Forth!" 

The Green Hand flew in the setting sun once more, a band of armored knights in green plate with white cloaks charging down the hill towards the convoy, backlit by the sun as another band of similarly garbed men descended on them from the other side. There were almost three hundred, all told, and they formed two mailed fists that struck at the convoy, particularly at the section where Lord Florent rode. The air was soon rent with the clang of steel on steel and the cries of dying men and women. A knight in Gardener armor charged straight at the Florent Lord with a spear, point tipped at his steed. 

[b] King's Landing [/b] (Collab with [@AtomicNut])

A haircomb, simple ointments, books about the Faith, a seven pointed star and modest robes. Those were the weapons she had been provided, and the ones she had at her disposal. No dagger nor poison among their midst. She was being watched, and thus her fangs had to wait to be unleashed. Deep blue eyes eyed the books one time more, as she caressed the engravings.

She had spent quite a time memorising those books by heart, trying to learn the subtlety of the Faith in the many ways she could think in such short notice. In her short life, she had been blessed not only with the looks to charm a Prince, but also with a mind worthy of a scholar, should she needed to dedicate herself to the task. Lysara sighed, as she grabbed the haircomb, and in broad strokes combed her golden-silver hair. She eyed the hair carefully, and picking up a flask with dye, examined it carefully. The hair would stand out a lot... but it could be dyed. Her curves could be concealed somewhat with her robes. Even her scar... could be shown or be hidden, should she need to.

But her eyes and her face were another regard. If only she could be a little plainer, the plan would have a slightly better success. But she would have to do and try to hide as much of her features as possible. Her sight wandered to each and every corner of her own room. Shelves and well-cared lodgings were ever present. It wasn't big and overly luxurious, but it was much better and fairer than any mercenary's tent.

It gave her chills how much it resembled her own home, down to the solitude. She shuddered. Seran wasn't there with her, and she could only move forward, aware that at any moment a knife would find the artery in her neck she had missed in her earlier attempt. But such was the role she had been entrusted. All for the realization of her dream. The dragon egg her brother protected with his life.

She felt scared. Alone. It was one thing manipulating events behind her reliable brother's back, but now... her allies were at best circumstancial, and at worst, rivals waiting to strike. She stopped combing her hair as she buried her hand in her face. "What am I doing, even. This is madness." She bitterly said, as a couple of tears squeezed through her face, still buried in her hand.

There was a knock on the door and Jahaerys Targaryen slipped into the room, quietly closing the door behind him. There was an earnest look on his face but a frown appeared as he espied the tears running down Lysara's face and he reached a hand to touch her shoulder and console her, "Are you alright, Lysara?" 

The young woman tensed all of a sudden, trying to reign in the impulse of her body. She shivered, but the voice rescued to her senses as she tried to restrain herself. It would look bad if Jahaerys had a comb stuck in his throat for such a gesture. Well, for once she was glad she didn't have her dagger in reach.

"You saw, prince." Lysara's mood darkened all of a sudden, wisps of fury in her voice as a deep frown flashed in her factions. "That's not something not even my brother is ever allowed to see anymore." She said in a quiet, but ominous voice. Quickly, she wiped the tears out of her face, as she quickly composed herself. "Even I can feel second thoughts and fear sometimes, is that surprising? Specially with this kind of ploy going on. But I will be fine. I've courted death before." The young woman said, as she began to recite one of the Seven Point Star book passages. 

"See, nothing to worry about it. I do my work." She added, as she weighted the dye flask.

Jahaerys didn't didn't withdraw but pulled his hand slowly back, "It isn't but, that's why you have comrades, people you can trust and who can help you. Remember that." He stepped back and appraised her, "Even the strongest feel fear. As my father says, it is the only time one can truly be brave." 

He smiled ruefully, "But your secret is safe with me. Your enigmatic mystique will be preserved." 

"What do you plan to do exactly? What do you hope to accomplish?"

"I'm going to go deep inside the Faith of Seven, disguised as Septa. I've talked with the High Septon, and I did not like what I heard. Specially not in the condescending way he talked about prince Aemon." Lysara looked to a side. "Like if he was expecting the prince's honor to be stained like this just because he's young and brave."

"Last time the Royal line fathered bastards, the Kingdoms bled, my Prince. I think he should've been more alarmed. He's hiding something, that I can feel. I can't crack the masquerade of the High Septon, after all he's a man with decades of experience of talking in public."

"But a chain is only as strong as the weakest link, as they say." Lysara added pouring the dye in a basin and her comb. "Even among septs, people have friends. And they're probably shocked at the news as much as others. Those people feelings are usually beneath the grand scheme of things in these schemes..." Lysara trailed off. "...and they might know something. But you can't reach them using normal methods."

Jahaerys crossed his arms with a smile, "As long as you don't poison anyone. Do you want anyone to accompany you? Perhaps Alys can come with you? The Faith has many secrets, and defends them jealously. It will be dangerous, and I'm not sure how else we can help you otherwise." 

"Alys will be better off swinging a sword by your side. I think she fancies you, my Prince." Lysara added, as she continued to dye her hair. "I've got to do something about my face. I am far too striking to not be recognized." She thought. "Maybe some mild poison that gives a rash..."

Jahaerys chuckled, "I don't know about that, but as to your features... darker hair will do wonders at concealing your identity. And perhaps some makeup can make you look older... more weathered by time and the world. Perhaps my sister can help." 

He frowned, "You'll be on your own then. Are you sure you will be ok? We will not be able to help should anything happen." 

"Your sister...you mean the one with sorcerous powers? That sounds intriguing." She glanced sideways, eyeing a certain ring that was on display. A certain heirloom she grabbed in her hand, eyeing the features as she kept dying the hair. "Yes, that kind of help... could be useful, my Prince. Even if such arts have not the best reputation sometimes."

Jahaerys smiled, "I meant perhaps Baela could use some of her fashion tricks. I don't know the true extent of Daenyra's abilities. And I'm unsure if we should let her know what we need. Do you think we should speak to her?"

"On second thought, I'd rather not drag my benefactor into this." She muttered. "Nor more people than what they're already involved in. I shall probably use some make up to smudge my features on my own." She sighed. "If only i could have my dagger back..."

Jahaerys laughed, crossing his arms behind his back, "It would be a help wouldn't it. That's why I got something for you." He revealed a small needle of a knife, little more than a sharpened point, "It's easily concealable, and very quiet. But please don't kill anyone, we don't need that kind of attention or trouble. Can I trust you with this?" 

"I know how to make people desire death and never reach it." Lysara said. "Rest assured...my Prince, I shall only use it in the most dire circumstances. She added, grabbing the small knife. "Ironic how resembles a surgical scalpel." She added, as she let go of the ring, and stored it away to better examine it.

The Prince leaned back on a wall and smirked, "Indeed, I found it in Sam's lab. So I suppose this is goodbye for sometime. I wish you good fortune." He smiled minutely, "Perhaps you need a kiss for luck?" 

"Oh?" Lysara smiled as she eyed the Prince, finishing her hair dye in a shade of black. "A kiss from a Dragon for good luck. Now that would be interesting, my fair Prince...but these lips have been already claimed by another dragon. And if i had heard well, no rider has ever attempted to ride two dragons at once." She smiled, as she got up and bowed to the prince, finishing her details. Some of the dye mixed with makeup would make her skin unhealthy and darker.

Jahaerys smiled, "What you say is true, and I couldn't be prouder of my brother." He inclined his head, "For his sake, I wish you the best. If you need to send a message, you can pass a note to the carpet merchant who operates in front of the Sept." 

"Is there anything else you need?" 

"Hm. Since I'm going in there to risk my life for the Queen's sake, I would like you to do a small favour for me, my prince." She said, grabbing the ring she had been caressing earlier as well as a written parchmet. "Please see to this being delivered to the Queen in the most utmost secrecy, my fair Prince. It is vital information concerning my lineage." She said, without adding much detail.

Jahaerys took the note and nodded, "I will. I owe you that much." He offered a hand to Lysara, "Is there any message for your brother, or mine? In case of the worst?" 

"Just tell them that I was serving the crown." She added, thoughtfully. "Trying to fulfill my dreams, my prince." She said, and without prompt, marked the cheek of the prince with a cheeky peck.

Prince Jahaerys smiled and held her hand in his for a moment before letting her go, "There is a hidden passage we can use. I can show you the way. Shall we go?" 

The Lyseni smiled, as she let herself be led by the Prince.

Jahaerys walked her through the shadowed hallways of the Red Keep at night and he led her down a hidden passage, one of multitudes that criss-crossed the Red Keep. He led her by torch light to a secret exit that opened onto the city below the keep and Jahaerys helped her onto a horse waiting for them. They rode through the streets and came near the Grand Sept, though not quite in sight of it. He helped her down and said, "The sept has open doors at all hours. You can walk inside, but I hope you have a name and story prepared. Good luck Lysara, may the gods watch over you." He rode off and Lysara was alone. 

---------

[b] The Red Keep [/b] 

As Cathay returned to her room in the Red Keep she found a note left for her on her bed. The seal had a Cat's paw, half-black and half-white on it. Once she tore it open, she would find instructions to meet, "In the same place as before, at the same time." Her lock had not been tampered with, and there was no evidence anyone had been in the one save for the letter. And yet the letter sat neatly on top of her bed all the same. 

[b] The Blue Fork - Near Oldstones [/b] 

As Catelyn and her retinue returned home the morning after her fateful meeting with the Sparrows, they found difficulty on the road. As they passed through a storm that turned the road into mud and sent the peasants scurrying into their hovels, their passage was unexpectedly barred. There was a score of mounted knights in their path, all of them heavily armed, and all of them bearing the crowned catfish of House Fisher, long thought gone and now apparently risen again. 

There were a dozen knights they could see, but with the downpour and the plentiful foliage around, there could have been more in hiding. The first knight shouted across the way from the Tully retinue and said, "We wish a good evening to the Lady Tully. We have no quarrel with her. But she has something in her possession that belongs to us. We humbly ask that she return it and we can all go along on our way. Otherwise, we will have to ask more forcefully. On my honor as a knight, I swear no harm will come to pass to the Lady or any of her companions if she returns what she stole. I swear it by the old gods and new." 

[b] The Stepstones [/b] 

The following morning, the loyalists set sail. Captain Serona and her Maiden's Men sailed upon their own ships with Ser Aerion watching over them. The Maiden's Men were an established company with many members, but they would meet the rest of them at Blackguard Bay. The Silver Serpent sailed next to them, with the Eel following behind. Their rag-tag flotilla dipped out to the sea, towards the place where the Scorpions would be meeting to discuss their battle plans. And if they were lucky, the Scorpion King would be there and the rebellion would be even closer to being crushed. As they sailed they could hear the rumbling of dragon fire in the distance and the roars of the beasts it came from, reverberating through the wind and water. The journey would take less than a week by sea, and the journeying warriors and adventurers had some time to themselves for at least a little while. 

-------

Some time later the royalists were in sight of Blackguard Bay, in an isolated isle of the Stepstone chain. The Eel had slipped ahead in the night and espied dozens, scores, perhaps even close to a hundred ships anchored in the Bay. And more were coming. Most were dromonds, sleek and deadly, with a few larger carracks and cogs. The ships were cloaked in minimal lighting, but several fires could be seen on the beaches. It was clear that there were thousands of men and women gathered in the Bay already. Not a place to look for a fight. 

Under the cover of darkness the three ships hitched together far away from the bay. Aemon came out dressed like a pirate captain as before. He addressed the assembled companions, "Here's the situation. There's no way we're going to be able to overcome the Scorpions in any kind of fight. Not without dragons, and we don't have them right now. The objective of this mission is to gather intelligence and embed ourselves into the Scorpions. This is where we split up. We need volunteers to come on a shore party that will include myself, Captain Seronna, and Tamsyn. Then I need someone to accompany the Maiden's Men once we learn everything we can. You'll be our insider once I take everyone else to link up with Aurane. They're planning some kind of battle and it behooves us to have an asset in their ranks, that I can trust. It will be dangerous though, make no mistake. If you have any questions or wish to volunteer for a duty, speak up now."