Bleap
patreon
CHP 19: Might Makes Right
🕑 Added 2024-08-18 12:09:13 +0000 UTCMy so-called ‘exchange of blows’ with Lord Jason Mallister had gone about as expected, with him in the dirt of his castle's training yard the moment he neared me, he took his loss with more grace than I'd expected from a noble and hurried off to send the letter, inviting me to roam around his castle.
But at the same time, a few of his men didn't appreciate the fact that the Lord of Seagard, a famed knight, had lost to a foreigner so I decided to spend my time exploring the town.
The townsfolk were... nice, not particularly accommodating but not harsh either, rather normal.
I supposed that was normal for a seaport, they must have been used to seeing travellers and the like.
The port was also the reason the town was in much better shape than most I'd encountered till now, with trees at certain intersections, proper roads and paths for carts and folk, the houses too were painted in light colours that seemed to mesh with the clear view of the blue sea present at all times beyond them.
Hell, there were even people selling trinkets and foods and whatnot in stalls along some of the more populated roads.
Donning a polite smile, I approached a man in a burgundy cloak and lightly tapped him on the shoulder, "Say, where do you think I could find an inn?"
I found myself in the mood for some gossip.
He looked back at me, his breath hitched, then he put a hand over his chest and let out a long sigh, "You scared me there-..." He looked me up and down again, "Ser, how can I help you?"
Smiling in amusement at how the people still concluded different things about who I was, I repeated my question, "An inn. Is there one nearby?"
I'd concluded that the commoners, most of them at least, were too terrified of the nature of nobility to risk saying anything that could even remotely offend them.
The stranger nodded his head vehemently and pointed to the right, "Down the road, to the left. It costs a bit but-..."
Bah, who wanted to listen to rich folk speak in that posh way they did?
"For sailors, man, come on."
He hesitated again, before casting a glance at the road leading down to the port, "You'll find a lot down by the ships but I don't think you'll like it there."
"Thanks a bunch." I nodded slightly and started walking.
Those inns would have merchants, travellers, the kind of folk who'd be interested in what's going on around them... I couldn't deny I was mighty curious about what the public opinion on my actions was, and I needed to hire a ship too.
-
The one I decided on was shoddy, with dirty windows and a door that swung by his hinges so lightly one would think it'd fly off if pushed too hard.
The men inside were gruff, mostly drunk, with scraggly hair and leered at the queerly dressed serving girls each time they passed.
I smiled in satisfaction and took a seat on one of the stools at the counter, "Give me whatever you got."
"I got piss and shit too, fresh. Reckon you wouldn't want that."
...This was new.
I chuckled loudly at the unexpected reply from the fat, old man behind the counter.
He furrowed his thick brows and stroked his near non-existent moustache with a small grin on his cracked lips, scratching his belly with his other hand.
"No, you can reserve that delicacy for yourself... Not to be rude or anything, but that being the first thing you offer is sending some mixed signals." I affirmed, leaning on the wooden counter, "But I do want something to drink."
"You got it. Ale or Stout?"
"I'll go with ale." I tossed him the smallest coin I'd found in my satchel before putting my head in palm and looked to the man sitting beside me, "Any interesting news?"
"What's more interestin' than some sods saying the Twins look worse than fucking Harrenhal right now." He spoke bluntly, with an accent common to the Riverlands, "You think it's true what they say?"
I raised my brow, "What do they say?"
"That the Father passed judment he did, on the Feys for usin' the poor folk to get rich." He stumbled over his own words, reeking of drink and something else I couldn't place, "They say it bursss still."
I sighed, "Of course."
Medieval societies would of course conclude that something inexplicable would either be attributed to the work of Gods or Devils depending on who it happened to.
The human mind was something.
But... admittedly, it didn't hurt my ego to be mistaken for a literal God.
"Shut ya mouth, Delp! You're fucking drunk again!" Someone shouted from one of the nearby tables, tossing a flagon at the drunkard's head.
Before I could even think to say something, the barkeep intervened, slamming his thick hands on the counter, "This is my damned inn! And that's my cup! I'll toss you reject cunts out like yer mommas!"
The man in question held his hands up in surrender, "Fine, fine... Was just havin' some fun, you stingy old coot."
The barkeep grunted and put down a wooden cup near me, "There, you want something to eat with that?"
"Nah, this'll do." I waved my hand, "What do you think about this?"
"I don't think nothing about it. They had it coming, snot-nosed weasels." He answered calmly, a stark difference to his behaviour earlier, "I just hope no innocent folk get caught up in whatever's happening like usual."
I smiled neutrally, "...They won't."
He raised his brow but then shrugged dismissively, "Here's hoping."
"Now then..." I thoughtlessly gulped down my ale before crossing my arms on the counter, "What can you tell me about the ironborn?"
A startled silence descended on the rowdy inn as soon as I finished my words, one that was cut down by the barkeep, "What the fuck are you all on about? Get back to talking."
"I take it they're not well liked?" I offered curiously.
He then turned to me, "They're savages stuck in dead ways, a blight on this world. They reave and rape and think it's their right cause of their Drowned God or whatever. They been doing it for as long as they've existed."
Well... that brought up some particularly ugly memories.
Either little Theon had no idea just what it was that he was inheriting or he was proud of a bunch of criminals that had possibly the most flawed justification for their actions I'd ever hear-
...Scratch that, that position was occupied by the Hornsent, who tortured and made minced meat out of people for just existing and genuinely believed they were victims when one of those people decided to commit genocide against them for their actions.
Hell, I had actively participated in that genocide, no, I was proud of it.
I didn't care for 'ways' or different 'beliefs'.
If they were wrong and cruel, they were wrong and cruel, deserving of whatever destructive fate they had coming for them.
Allowing clear cruelty in the name of 'different beliefs and customs' was a coward's justification.
"So what you're telling me is, nobody would miss them if... say, they disappeared?"
I wanted to stretch my legs a bit.
"No, the Seven Kingdoms would be glad. They're cruel bastards that take pleasure in ruining lives, the lot of them."
I had no personal justification for my actions save for my experience with a similar kind of people but... that was enough.
That was all I'd ever need.
My own desires were the only thing I would ever cater to, I had earned that right by virtue of the millions upon millions of times I was simply torn to shreds.
But... I was being too hasty.
I needed to confirm if this was true or just bias from the barkeep.
If it was true however, then as Karl, I would make sure they met the same fate as the Hornsent before them... I'd start with their God, if he existed.
Might made right.
They seemed to believe that.
My 'right' was their complete and total annihilation.
"Let's see if I can do something about that." I flashed him my usual grin... but he laughed in my face for my words.
I grunted and took my leave, intent on asking the Maester at the fort for further clarification.
Theon Greyjoy was in for quite the surprise.
Hm... maybe I'd change things up a bit to leave a stronger message.
-
Hope you enjoyed.
Leave your thoughts and/or suggestions for the story.
-
I think most of you've noticed but Karl isn't a 'good person' per se, even if he looks like that. With his age, he knows that there's dissent and not all people are the same, but he wipes out whatever doesn't agree with him all the same, a mentality built through his time spent in the Lands Between and their nature, where he got killed because people simply didn't like him, at times.
-
I'll post another chapter today.
Comments
Calm Dxwn
More chaps please
Scarletmenace
Loving this story!
Redwing641
Understandable. Dying more time than you can remember can do some messed up stuff to your brain. Its already a miracle that MC isnt a deranged murder hobo that kills everything in sight. Just a testament to his willpower and how he’s earned his power/s
