Gold Road Parlay

[Imry Willfyre]

Lord Breck Dondarrion and an honor guard flying the seven colored flag of truce arrive at the designated location for the parlay.

[The Stranger]

a handful of men in black armor and black masks appear on the edge of the woods. With them is a single man in a black robe. He lowers the hood to reveal a shaved, scarred head, but a Westerosi look.

The armored man in the middle begins to speak, and the slave translates

"I am Envoy..." some unpronounceable name. "You have asked for negotiations, and so we are here. To whom do I speak?"

[Imry Willfyre]

"You speak with the Lord of the Stormlands", Breck said atop his stallion. "Whom do you serve?"

[The Stranger]

The slave translated, and the man thought for a moment, and than listened as the Envoy spoke.

"We serve her Imperial Majesty. We were led to understood that the one called Rodrick was Lord of the Storm people. This Rodrick, he is in our power. You should know that."

[Imry Willfyre]

"In his minority I am his regent, and I command the Stormlands. He is my blood-kin as well. This is besides the point however, I've come to negotiate some sort of truce."

[The Stranger]

"You speak for the Storm people, or all of the people under the Rickon King?" the slave asked, after a the obligatory moment of translation.

[Imry Willfyre]

"I speak for the Stormlands, and as an adviser and cousin to the King. Though, you will be hard pressed to reach peace with him, he is a stubbornly honorable type."

[The Stranger]

"Very well. What will be required for your Storm people to march away, and return to their homes?" the slave translates.

[Imry Willfyre]

"What do you have to offer? I know nothing of your people. Where do you come from and who are your leaders? I have a thousand other questions, but I don't know what you can stand to offer me."

[The Stranger]

"If you turn your army around, and return to your homes, and stand aside, we will confirm you in your position as Lord of the Storm people, along with gold and jewels. If you want more than that... it will require... active participation."

[Imry Willfyre]

"Continue", Breck said.

[The Stranger]

The Slave translated, and the Envoy listened for a moment, and than began to speak.

"The Ironborn march with our brethren against the People of the River. We have no fear there. But to the South, your King gathers more men, and they march towards us. Intercept them, and put them down, and We shall confirm you as King of the Storm people."

[Imry Willfyre]

"Unfortunately that is not enough. Make me King of Westeros...that perhaps is a deal I'd consider."

[The Stranger]

"Perhaps... You would, of course, have to marry our imperial majesty. Do you have a wife and children?"

[Imry Willfyre]

Breck nodded, "Indeed I do." The conversation was bordering things he'd rather not think about, so he changed the subject, "You never told me what the name of your people is, or where you hail from?"