Post by The Stranger on Aug 6, 2008 10:36:37 GMT -5
The wait was certainly the worst. Looking out of the small window of the two rooms he had rented, Yozs contemplated weather to go over and ask. “He won’t know…” He said to himself. He stared a little longer at the house, the house where the spice merchant lived, his mind going to a place from the days before. He had been to the tavern, the place where Aellion Targaryen and his court resided. The Splendid Times was a nice enough inn, architecturally a great building, with grand furniture and an expert staff. He had been there twice now, sitting in a corner far away from the court, sipping his beverage and listening, watching. The dragon was certainly mad – Keeping two skulls next to him on a table and ‘meeting’ with his, or rather his brothers, noble allies. He had not yet been able to identify any of the nobles, the tavern being a little too noisy for him to be able to hear well, but soon he would be able to find out. Soon, when he would join Aellion’s court.
Pulling himself out of his day dream, Yozs decided it was time for a little practice. They had set up a few targets in one of the rooms, one without windows. Arriving there, he saw that the young man called Androw was practicing his dagger throwing skills. “Looking good.” Yozs said, smiling to himself and the boy almost jumped with fear. “Yozs… I did not hear you approach.” “That was the idea. Now, get back to your daggers. I need to do some training myself.” Walking over to the larger targets, Yozs picked up one of the crossbows he had left on a table and wound in a bolt. Taking aim at a target, he let fly, bringing the bolt to thunk in near the centre. “Too easy.” He sent his next bolt into a further away target and there found a challenge. Letting fly for the rest of the morning, Yozs felt his aim increase and his grip relax. “Thought I was better at this…” He mumbled to himself when one of his bolts missed the mark. Looking over at young Androw, he had to think about the times he helped Darien practice with his daggers, back in Lannisport when they were hunting Yurie Darkheart. Yozs wondered how Darien was doing… he hadn’t seen him in around a year, maybe more, and when they last met in King’s Landing the boy seemed so… grown. He had increased in stature, his muscles being more dominant than ever, although not to the extreme, and he could tell the boy was battle hardened – Something he supposed the boy had lost since the times he fought Dothraki in Qohor. But he also appeared more mature, not being the slightly clumsy and at times a little too ignorant Darien he had been before. Shaking his head, Yozs shot a bolt right into the bull’s eye and put his crossbow away.
Walking the streets of Braavos could be a calming thing, if you went to the right places. The many bridges in small, forgotten alleys were a sight for the eyes and Yozs enjoyed the sound his footsteps made on the stone. Coming past a small inn, he decided it couldn’t be bad to have a quick drink before returning to his position. He had left the young woman named Ireen at the spot, watching the spice merchant’s house… waiting for the fire. It would no doubt happen in the evening, but you could never be sure. Entering the tavern, Yozs found it to be pretty much empty, save a small group of traders in a back corner and a Westerosi looking bard. “Play us something nice, won’t you?” Yozs said, flicking the man a copper into his hat. The young musician nodded in appreciation and started playing a song he did not recognize; Neither music nor language.
With his ale bought, Yozs sat down at a small table and tried to relax. The past few weeks had been stressful, but he was a patient man. It would be when the action came that he would have to be ready, no matter what. One small mistake and this could all go wrong.
Oh, not the poisoning – That was not up to him. But somebody had to shift the blame, didn’t they? And that was him. Who knew? Perhaps his job was the most important. Well, not the most important; without the deed there would be a reason to make someone else look suspicious, but it was of some import. Sighing to himself and wondering why he was even thinking about his job in such a way, Yozs finished his ale and made his way back to the position.
The sky was darkening when Yozs saw the merchant leave his house. He could already tell by the man’s look that this was the day, now was the time. A moment later he smelled smoke and got to work. Running as fast, and as unseen, as he could he made his way to the back of a tiny alley and removed a wooden slab from the crate that he knew to be there. Inside were clothes, black and simple, the garb of an assassin. Grabbing them, he made his way back to the small intersection of roads next to the house, where he knew no one would be at this time and laid the clothes in a bundle on the floor. Making a spark with his tinder box, he set alight a small section of the shirt and pants, waiting for the fire to catch before slowly tapping it out, making sure it looked like it had gone out naturally. He then procured the note, written in High Valyrian, and burned one of the corners off, without harming the writing, before shoving it into one of the pockets of the laid out pants. Smiling to himself that his work was done, Yozs made his way back home. Androw and Ireen had already prepared everything for their move across town, nearer to The Splendid Times, and away from a place where they might be recognized. “Let’s home they find those damn clothes.” He said to himself as he stepped out to his doorway. For on them was the incriminating evidence.
"Don't disappoint me; the dragon remembers."
Yozs advances to Expert Crossbow
Yozs plants evidence at the scene of the burning house, making it look like the Targaryens had hired to kill the Sealord.
Pulling himself out of his day dream, Yozs decided it was time for a little practice. They had set up a few targets in one of the rooms, one without windows. Arriving there, he saw that the young man called Androw was practicing his dagger throwing skills. “Looking good.” Yozs said, smiling to himself and the boy almost jumped with fear. “Yozs… I did not hear you approach.” “That was the idea. Now, get back to your daggers. I need to do some training myself.” Walking over to the larger targets, Yozs picked up one of the crossbows he had left on a table and wound in a bolt. Taking aim at a target, he let fly, bringing the bolt to thunk in near the centre. “Too easy.” He sent his next bolt into a further away target and there found a challenge. Letting fly for the rest of the morning, Yozs felt his aim increase and his grip relax. “Thought I was better at this…” He mumbled to himself when one of his bolts missed the mark. Looking over at young Androw, he had to think about the times he helped Darien practice with his daggers, back in Lannisport when they were hunting Yurie Darkheart. Yozs wondered how Darien was doing… he hadn’t seen him in around a year, maybe more, and when they last met in King’s Landing the boy seemed so… grown. He had increased in stature, his muscles being more dominant than ever, although not to the extreme, and he could tell the boy was battle hardened – Something he supposed the boy had lost since the times he fought Dothraki in Qohor. But he also appeared more mature, not being the slightly clumsy and at times a little too ignorant Darien he had been before. Shaking his head, Yozs shot a bolt right into the bull’s eye and put his crossbow away.
Walking the streets of Braavos could be a calming thing, if you went to the right places. The many bridges in small, forgotten alleys were a sight for the eyes and Yozs enjoyed the sound his footsteps made on the stone. Coming past a small inn, he decided it couldn’t be bad to have a quick drink before returning to his position. He had left the young woman named Ireen at the spot, watching the spice merchant’s house… waiting for the fire. It would no doubt happen in the evening, but you could never be sure. Entering the tavern, Yozs found it to be pretty much empty, save a small group of traders in a back corner and a Westerosi looking bard. “Play us something nice, won’t you?” Yozs said, flicking the man a copper into his hat. The young musician nodded in appreciation and started playing a song he did not recognize; Neither music nor language.
With his ale bought, Yozs sat down at a small table and tried to relax. The past few weeks had been stressful, but he was a patient man. It would be when the action came that he would have to be ready, no matter what. One small mistake and this could all go wrong.
Oh, not the poisoning – That was not up to him. But somebody had to shift the blame, didn’t they? And that was him. Who knew? Perhaps his job was the most important. Well, not the most important; without the deed there would be a reason to make someone else look suspicious, but it was of some import. Sighing to himself and wondering why he was even thinking about his job in such a way, Yozs finished his ale and made his way back to the position.
The sky was darkening when Yozs saw the merchant leave his house. He could already tell by the man’s look that this was the day, now was the time. A moment later he smelled smoke and got to work. Running as fast, and as unseen, as he could he made his way to the back of a tiny alley and removed a wooden slab from the crate that he knew to be there. Inside were clothes, black and simple, the garb of an assassin. Grabbing them, he made his way back to the small intersection of roads next to the house, where he knew no one would be at this time and laid the clothes in a bundle on the floor. Making a spark with his tinder box, he set alight a small section of the shirt and pants, waiting for the fire to catch before slowly tapping it out, making sure it looked like it had gone out naturally. He then procured the note, written in High Valyrian, and burned one of the corners off, without harming the writing, before shoving it into one of the pockets of the laid out pants. Smiling to himself that his work was done, Yozs made his way back home. Androw and Ireen had already prepared everything for their move across town, nearer to The Splendid Times, and away from a place where they might be recognized. “Let’s home they find those damn clothes.” He said to himself as he stepped out to his doorway. For on them was the incriminating evidence.
"Don't disappoint me; the dragon remembers."
Yozs advances to Expert Crossbow
Yozs plants evidence at the scene of the burning house, making it look like the Targaryens had hired to kill the Sealord.