Post by The Stranger on Apr 14, 2008 14:29:02 GMT -5
After his meal in the common room of the Seven Swords, Mace Goodbrother wound his way up a dizzying spiral staircase and found his room with little difficulty. The inn was certainly what the Lady of Duskendale had promised. His potatoes had been more fresh than rotten, the mutton was free of worms, albeit slightly charred, and the three or so hairs he had pulled out of his ale had been acceptable. Glancing about his room, Mace supposed he would discover if they did in fact change the sheets on the morrow: the rough-spun woolen blankets heaped in a pile on the bed would keep him warm, and with any hope free of lice.
Tossing the pack containing his belongings aside, the Ironborn shipwright lit a tallow candle and began to carefully set the stack of books he carried on a sturdy wooden desk. Each tome was more ancient and queer looking than the last. The were bound in everything imaginable: chipped, lacquered rosewood; ripped and faded turquoise silks, marred by unidentifiable stains; white and black striped zorse hide; thin planks of peeling silver bamboo; thick scuffled horse leather... at least what Mace hoped was horse; one queer volume was even covered in stained glass panes that were fancifully colored, framed in red copper. The Goodbrother of Hammerhorn carefully arranged each text upon his desk, taking the utmost care to keep them away from the burning candle.
It was there, with the exotic lexicons lain before him, that Mace Goodbrother came alive. His hands whirled with activity, flipping open the first tome, unleashing the secrets within. The first few pages were coated with a fine layer of sandy dust, and with a breath Mace blew them clean. Uncovered was a beautiful depiction of a Yi Tisian trading cog, with its triangular sail and low ribbed belly. The drawing was outlined in midnight squid ink, with bright, vibrant color dyes. The shipwright sighed in appreciation. Not at the drawing, but at the ship depicted; on the opposite page were precise, detailed instructions and trade secrets. Clinker-built hulls. Steel rams. Castle ship barges. Valyrian eel-leather throngs. Sun-stiffened sails. Razor tacks. Tar coated hulls. Tumblehome construction. Prow-mounted icebreakers. Forge-fired rudders. A-frame masts. Triple bank oars...
Everything. With every page, a wealth of knowledge spilled into the Ironborn shipwright's mind, his eyes hungrily devouring each word, each diagram, each chart. Not only were there ships, no, but architecture of the most humble and the most grand design. From the sun baked pyramids of Salver's Bay to the wooden tree forts of the Summer Islands, from the great aqueducts of Braavos to the forgotten secrets of Harrenhall. Worth more than any amount of gold pillaged in their raiding, more than any ship full of rare furs, jewels, and spices, worth more than any treasure were the information in the tomes captured by the brother Greyjoy in their seven years of reavings. The books had been collected from the far reaches of the known world, and were the very blood secrets of the builders of the world.
As Mace Goodbrother turned the last page (a sleek, titanic stone castle that seemed the rake the sky itself, that was described to have a cast iron skeleton), the tallow candle sputtered and died. Plunged into darkness, the shipwright closed the book and brought a hand to his dark circled eyes. It was late; the very first fingers of dawn appearing out over the bay. With a mangled yawn, Mace slowly organized each book, stacking them with care before binding them together with leather straps. The ironborn shipwright wandered through his room and tucked the books in a safe place, along with the rest of his belongings. Mace fell into his bed, wrapped his sheets around him, and slept. He slept deeply, and without dream or fit, for on the morrow he would begin his work.
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Mace Goodbrother increases from Noteworthy to Expert Shipbuilding
Mace Goodbrother increases from Apprentice to Noteworthy Construction
Mace Goodbrother begins the construction of ships in the harbor of Duskendale, at the rate of one per week. Each month (of the four ships constructed) two ships are to be given to the control of Lady Aranya Royce, and the remaining two ships are to be moored at the harbor until claimed by Captain Ulfrik Greyjoy.
Tossing the pack containing his belongings aside, the Ironborn shipwright lit a tallow candle and began to carefully set the stack of books he carried on a sturdy wooden desk. Each tome was more ancient and queer looking than the last. The were bound in everything imaginable: chipped, lacquered rosewood; ripped and faded turquoise silks, marred by unidentifiable stains; white and black striped zorse hide; thin planks of peeling silver bamboo; thick scuffled horse leather... at least what Mace hoped was horse; one queer volume was even covered in stained glass panes that were fancifully colored, framed in red copper. The Goodbrother of Hammerhorn carefully arranged each text upon his desk, taking the utmost care to keep them away from the burning candle.
It was there, with the exotic lexicons lain before him, that Mace Goodbrother came alive. His hands whirled with activity, flipping open the first tome, unleashing the secrets within. The first few pages were coated with a fine layer of sandy dust, and with a breath Mace blew them clean. Uncovered was a beautiful depiction of a Yi Tisian trading cog, with its triangular sail and low ribbed belly. The drawing was outlined in midnight squid ink, with bright, vibrant color dyes. The shipwright sighed in appreciation. Not at the drawing, but at the ship depicted; on the opposite page were precise, detailed instructions and trade secrets. Clinker-built hulls. Steel rams. Castle ship barges. Valyrian eel-leather throngs. Sun-stiffened sails. Razor tacks. Tar coated hulls. Tumblehome construction. Prow-mounted icebreakers. Forge-fired rudders. A-frame masts. Triple bank oars...
Everything. With every page, a wealth of knowledge spilled into the Ironborn shipwright's mind, his eyes hungrily devouring each word, each diagram, each chart. Not only were there ships, no, but architecture of the most humble and the most grand design. From the sun baked pyramids of Salver's Bay to the wooden tree forts of the Summer Islands, from the great aqueducts of Braavos to the forgotten secrets of Harrenhall. Worth more than any amount of gold pillaged in their raiding, more than any ship full of rare furs, jewels, and spices, worth more than any treasure were the information in the tomes captured by the brother Greyjoy in their seven years of reavings. The books had been collected from the far reaches of the known world, and were the very blood secrets of the builders of the world.
As Mace Goodbrother turned the last page (a sleek, titanic stone castle that seemed the rake the sky itself, that was described to have a cast iron skeleton), the tallow candle sputtered and died. Plunged into darkness, the shipwright closed the book and brought a hand to his dark circled eyes. It was late; the very first fingers of dawn appearing out over the bay. With a mangled yawn, Mace slowly organized each book, stacking them with care before binding them together with leather straps. The ironborn shipwright wandered through his room and tucked the books in a safe place, along with the rest of his belongings. Mace fell into his bed, wrapped his sheets around him, and slept. He slept deeply, and without dream or fit, for on the morrow he would begin his work.
==========
Mace Goodbrother increases from Noteworthy to Expert Shipbuilding
Mace Goodbrother increases from Apprentice to Noteworthy Construction
Mace Goodbrother begins the construction of ships in the harbor of Duskendale, at the rate of one per week. Each month (of the four ships constructed) two ships are to be given to the control of Lady Aranya Royce, and the remaining two ships are to be moored at the harbor until claimed by Captain Ulfrik Greyjoy.