Lannisport Harbour

[Percy Rivers]

Several nearby Bolton men at arms look around sharply at the ship. They storm aboard, the ship.

[shacklock]

Sargon rolls his eyes, wincing at the sudden noise.
“If you’re going to be difficult girl…” He steps out of the cabin and calls out to the two men dicing at the ship’s front. They laugh once more and rush over. “Take this bloody screaming girl and leave her on the dockside. Take her clothes as well….she can keep the cloak.” Sargon chortles to himself before stepping back inside. The two men promptly attempt to carry out his orders, roughly grabbing at Elaena.

[Percy Rivers]

The Bolton men see Elaena, and grab her from the sailors. They literally pick her up by the arms and take her down the street at a jog, quickly passing by several people who quickly twisted their heads to look at the almost naked Elaena.

When they finally stop it is near an inn, modestly kept, but nothing to conspicuous.

[shacklock]

Sargon shakes his head, bewildered. Everyone present laughs loudly.
“Fuck this…I’m going for a drink. Orkwood, coming?”

[edricdayne]

Euron chuckles at the men as they carry the girl away. "Yeah, I'll go have a drink with you."

[shacklock]

Sargon finishes getting dressed, opting to wear his chainmail and boiled leather once more…just incase.
“I’m thinking somewhere more suited to Iron-born. Anywhere decent in this shit-hole?”

[edricdayne]

Euron thinks for a second, then says "I think I remember seeing an inn called The Silver Blade. We could try that place out, sounds hospitable enough."

[shacklock]

“Aye, that it does.” Sargon waves away the two lingering crewmen and sets off for the Silver-Blade with Euron.

[shacklock]

////////

Sargon Greyjoy stalks across the harbor district warily. Making his way back to the Storm-Reaver.
Both hands resting on the hilts of his dirks.
“Fucking poxy bitch…Others take her” He spits again, eyes darting around nervously at every Red-cloak he spies.

[sethgreyjoy]

Herman had a sword as his side, but he also had his wonderful arms as a mainline. He had wrapped his wrists and hands with cloth, to keep them formed for striking. His long hair tangled past his jaw, though stopped short of his shoulders, his eyes set, one of them glistening redishly beneath the mar of his large forehead burn.

[shacklock]

Sargon makes it to the Storm-Reaver without any problems, striding aboard angrily. He glances back at Herman. “Seems you’re help wasn’t needed friend. Still, it may have been” He nods appreciatively and approaches one of his crewmen. Frowning when he learns the majority of his crew is still whoring and drinking across Lannisport, Ulerr included.
“Fuck…”

[Percy Rivers]

Strider makes his way through the throng to Sargon's ship. When he reaches it he calls from the dockside for the Greyjoy captain.

[shacklock]

Hearing the call, Sargon turns, hand on one of his many sheathed dirks. He saunters over to the side of the ship and peers down at the dockside.
“Aye, that would be me.”

[Percy Rivers]

What looks like a piece of paper comes flying at Sargon's head. It thwacks him soundly on the nose. And it falls to the deck of Sargon's ship. It is indeed a piece of paper, wrapped around a rock.

[shacklock]

Sargon curses loudly, no doubt for the umpteenth time in the last hour, shouting at no one in particular to feather the bastard.
Kneeling down rather groggily, Sargon grabs the rock and unfolds the paper, eyes skimming across it.
A thoughtful frown slowly spreads across Sargon’s face as he reads. Finally finishing it, he gets up and strides into his cabin, closing the door and pouring himself a very generous amount of wine.
Fucking hell… Things are getting interesting, he muses.