Post by The Stranger on Aug 5, 2008 16:48:03 GMT -5
Brandon grinned as he surveyed his newest poison; well it wasn’t anything spectacular it just worked differently from Basilisk’s Blood. Oh it had the same qualities, but it had a delay of sorts. Depending on how much of it you’ve eaten. The mouse will still attack a lion after tasting the paste, but it would do so after half an hour in stead. Who knew that dried basilisk’s blood could be so useful? The paste looked it’s usual colour though there were small grains of red which were the signs of basilisk’s blood being used, though it could easily be mistaken for some exotic spice. Brandon had a hard time imagining the chaos it would cause used in a company. Well the Sealord had ordered the death of Blackpearl simply because of a stray dog, and that wouldn’t do. It wouldn’t do at all.
Reret had stayed in his mansion for nearly two years, and it was driving him spare. He was still alive though so it could seem that the search was over. Reret couldn’t be fooled though, they were out there. He was sure they were! Reret was looking thinner than before, he was sure he looked positively gaunt! But he was still fatter than most. The siblings of his spy in the Sealord’s kitchen had proven themselves nearly as talented as their brother. Oh, he had heard a lot about how the Sealord enjoyed his meals. Bruyal had also been in place for the last year and a half. Reret had allowed the siblings to visit their brother sometimes as a reminder. He treated them well enough, and they could read and write. Why, they called him ‘Uncle Reret’, proof that he was as amiable as ever. Children’s laughter so calmed his spirit in the trials it was to turn every corner fearing an attack. He had began to carry a small mirror around, which also helped. The time was coming soon though, wasn’t just! And then he could restart the lost parts of his business, he so missed haggling with merchants, ruining other businesses and looking at those voluptuous Summer Islands women. The waiting had taken a toll on his mind, but it would be all be better soon. He had promised himself that. Not caring that a nearly madman’s promise is worth little, though one could say that only a madman keeps all his promises.
Weeks later
In Braavos a mute man was buying ingredients for the kitchen, some found it odd that he would do so himself instead of sending out servants. But as long as the food he cooked was good and no one got sick they stopped asking questions after a while. It wasn’t like he was able to answer them without spending minutes with gestures. Though he had a guard with a hound following him in his shopping rounds, which wasn’t so bad after he got used to it. The dog seemed to like him, and the guard talked about everything. The guard seemed pleased with his deal, the mute one couldn’t really argue with him and he never talked back. He even learnt the names of good spices that he brought home to his wife, not to mention his lover. They seemed very pleased that he took care of some groceries, his wife more than his lover of course.
“A new paste for meat, it will nearly make you drool from the smell of the cooked flesh after wards, why I had to clean myself up even before I ate anything,” the merchant said. It was the same stall as always but once in a while he’d have these exotic spices. The merchant had exotic spices once in a while because the guard would get used to it, familiarity was one of the key things to make people trust you. “Sounds good, but you know that Tufty here will have to try don’t you?”. The mute chef nodded as did the merchant. “Why of course, wouldn’t want Tufty to leave without being satisfied now would we,” the merchant responded and he dog wagged his tail and barked. “Good boy,” the guard said and ruffled the dog’s head. The merchant took some of the paste on his fingers and allowed the dog to smell it before the dog finally licked it up. After a few minutes while the mute chef was picking out the ordinary spice, the dog didn’t seem to have any troubles. “I know we can count on you, Bruyal, but it is the orders you see,” the guard said to the merchant. Bruyal shrugged, “Hah, without you I no doubt would be out of business. The genius chef at my shop is good advertisement, you know!”. The guard chuckled as he left with the dog and the mute chef following.
As they neared the palace about a half an hour later, the kitchen staff began to prepare a meal for the Sealord and his councillors. “R’hllor that smells great, new paste?” one of the other chef’s asked. The mute chef nodded and went on in his work, in deed the meat was smelling savoury. The agent had no idea what kind of paste he used. He recognised the man, which pretended to be a merchant, from Master Nekna’s mansion, but Bruyal had given him so many exotic spices already that he had no clue when it would happen. He rather hoped it wouldn’t happen ever. He rather liked his place here, though he missed his brother and sister. “Save some of that paste for us to,” another chef called out, they had the privilege to use left over ingredients for their own meals after all. The mute chef nodded, the Sealord wasn’t the only one that was going to get a good meal this night.
“Back from your shopping already?” Raest grunted, he was one of the more senior guards and often in charge of things. “Aye, and a shame that is,” the guard, Harrlo, answered. One of the younger guards, Silchas, sneered. “The errand boy is back with his mangy dog”. The other guards couldn’t stand him really, but he was good at what he did, which included standing still and looking mean. “Shut up you,” Harrlo growled forcefully. Tufty then began to growl. Silchas stepped back, not liking the look on Harrlo’s and the dog’s face. The other guards laughed at that, until the trusty old dog leaped up at Silchas. The laughter turned into shouts as Silchas was bitten savagely, blood was streaming down his face. Fortunatly for him, unfortunately for the dog, he manage to free his dagger and plunged the weapon into the dog’s side. “You’re mad!” he yelled looking at Harrlo. “You set the dog at me!”. “I did no such thing!” Harrlo denied, trying to make sense of it all, Tufty had never shown such behaviour before, though the dog never liked Silchas. The dog was wimpering and snarling at anyone who neared it, even when it neared its death. “Go home, Harrlo, and don’t go no where were we can’t find you. Your weeks pay is given to Silchas for compensation, you should’ve watch the dog more carefully,” Raest commanded. “But..” . “Go!”. Harrlo sighed and rubbed his face tiredly as he walked home. Later he might reconise the actions of the now dead dog and conclude that it might have been the same thing that had happened with the Sealord and his guests. But now the only thing he could think of was how he would explain the lack of pay to his wife.
Bruyal walked home after closing his shop for the evening. Well, he would have to close it permanently if he didn’t want to die. To ensure that he would be forgotten by the fine citizenry of Braavos, he had killed a man. Fortunatly he had found a man of similar height and weight, unfortunately for that man though. It was funny how the world worked. He had the body preserved in a cask in his temporarily home, stuffed with herbs to dampen the smell, and now he was preparing the body to be burnt along with the house he was in. It never was a good idea to sleep with lit lamps. As the fire started he went out the backdoor wearing clothes he hadn’t worn in Braavos yet. There was a distinct difference in quality, looking more like a pendler now than a middling spice merchant. He made his way out of Braavos making sure he wasn’t followed. He was ready to nick his finger on a poisonous dagger he had in his pocket should he be captured.
Results
Attempting to assassinate the Sealord. Everyone who eats the meat gets mad with rage and will assault anyone. This includes the kitchen staff(so the mute chef might die) results is up to the honourable admin