Jason Swann

Jason took a swing of his alcoholic beverage he had on his person, as they returned back to camp with the knocked out red-woman. Jason found her to be pretty, in a dangerous, sort of way, with a head long, blood red hair and a rather robust waistline to add to it. She also wore blood red-colored leather jumper along with large, clearly masculine boots on her feet. Jason also found that she had a scarred, tattered pale face with one eye missing; in a dangerous, kind of unseemly way, Jason found her pretty. As did the other men, that discussed her rather fine arse with chuckles and a general stare at it; it was quite a large thing, on such a short woman. It was no small wonder that she hadn't been raped yet by the men of their company, Jason supposed. Even though a great deal of them were staring at her rather large butt as she lay on the donkey he'd brought mostly for food and what-not. It was better to be safe than sorry in these kinds of places, where one could quickly run out of food due to the nature of the creatures that brooded on these platitudes. It was hard to capture a fierce-footed goat, that roamed through the high rocks with incredible speeds, or the white-tailed foxes, that camouflaged into the background amongst the bitter, white boulders up above their heads. In more ways than one, this place reminded Jason of the Vale, but it lacked the seemly endless fertile supply of food that the Eyre offered; but it sure was mountainous enough to make up for it.

"We're not to rape our guests." Prince Jaehaerys Targaryen, the second-in command of Robert's fine company, stated matter of factly. "Nor the red woman, mind you. I know she has a fine arse and tits we all haven't seen in awhile, but no raping. It's bad business to be seen raping another companies captain, when we could be befriending 'em instead." He stated on the matter, with his usual voice of confidence and bravo towards the other men upon collecting their refugees. They seemed rather disappointed with that, until Jae reminded the lot of em that they could always hire whores instead if they wanted a woman to fuck, or even baring that, going after one of the woman from the Summer Isles or the Patrimony, given that they had some in of them in the company. That caused a many sighs, as they walked back on the long trail back to their current location in the snug little town of Regan, where they had set up camp. Honestly, Jason had his own personal whore in the dazzling lady of Daenys, a whore he had come across in Lys whilst searching for a traveling whore in the all of the whore houses for a whore that was willing to travel with him for a bit of cash; including the ironically named Swann Mansion, where all of the best whores of Lys were supposedly situated.

"The red-woman does have a fine arse." Jason smirked, staring at it. It was a robust, weighty thing on the red-woman, even more so than her own tits, in all earnesty. Her breasts were small and innocuous things, not worthy of much attention.

Robert nodded, indifferently - before attempting to move on, with a look of guilt on his face. Jason knew that Robert had... problems of that nature - and he likely even had some unsaid bastards behind closed doors, given how sometimes he spent his days with a pretty girl when they were out and about, and away from his Lady wife and her brother. Jason didn't know what to think about that, and decided on not caring about it. Whatever his lieges did to woman outside of his marriage was none of his business, even though he was sure that if Lyanna knew about what he did, than she'd destroy him for it. His own Northern mother was a fierce woman - he remembered her well indeed - she had always been a free-spirited, brave woman, and she took nonsense from no-one, his own father included, and his father adored that about her. So much in fact, that he never got remarried after her death from the chills some few years back, when he was only a mere squire under Lord Tarth.

"Yes, yes she does Jason." He muttered. Jason noted his hands were shaking when he took a sip of his wine. The man barely drunk, and when he did, it was because of nightmares. He had something up with him after he conquered Lys, something shattered him beyond belief when he did so, even though he did it with the usual charisma and bravo as he did everything. Something was wrong, Jason knew from Robert's facial expression.

"What's wrong Robert?" Jason asked, mildly curiously. He knew it wasn't any of his business to get in it with his Liege amongst other things, but Robert was his friend. Robert had been the one to Knight him, the one to make him a second son with no inheritance to speak of, a part of something big and tangible, rather than he would've been a part of at home. At home, Jason would've been forced to marry some Marcher girl that his father choice out for him, and had some shitty land befitting a second son and spare heir somewhere in the Marches. When Robert left with his army, of course he followed, Jason had personal interests in it succeeding; getting a name and title of his own merit was much better than being some no-named petty Lord in the Marches.

"I swore to meself I wouldn't bloody whore when Lyanna and Ned weren't around, and that I was done with that whole business, but it's been bloody impossible. We meet all of these beautiful, dazzling woman, and it's been driving me crazy. I swore to myself I would stay loyal to Lyanna, and not to hurt her, because that's not what Ned nor Brandon would've wanted for their sister." He muttered, sounding a bit saddened, as he put his bottle back in his pack, having drunk one sip of it. Personally, Jason knew it to be right; Lady Lyanna was a stubborn, strong-willed woman - and like most common ladies, she was not particularly fond of whores. She would hate him for if she ever found out; and Jason suspected that Lord Robert knew it, which is why he was so dismayed and adamant of his attempts to keep away from whores.

Jason nodded, staring at him. Jason personally liked whores - but he knew that once he was married, there'd be no more public whorring visit to any brothels anytime soon. "That's why I don't ever wish to find meself married to some Marcher woman. You know, my father wanted to marry me off to Brienne the Beauty." He spat on the ground - that woman had been of a colossal size, which neither of her brothers were; Ser Galladon the Gallant was a tall man and Barron was taller than most of his age, but that woman was unsettling large; she was nearly as tall as Robert, and overlooked himself in terms of height, which was uncomforting. Although, he did remember Ser Galladon biting off a man's head about hurting his sister; and damn, was Ser Galladon a great fighter; almost as great as Ser Jaime Lannister or even Ser Arthur Dayne in terms of fighting. He'd know, because he got defeated more than once by Ser Galladon with his valyrian blade of Constance during his time squiring under Lord Tarth. He himself, unfortunately had never been friends with the Lord-Heir of Tarth - even though his older brother was. His older brother got everything, including the greatest friends, to Jason's jealousy even though he was there at the time.

Robert laughed blithely, as they continued on through the sandy dunes of the walkway, which seemly went forever in Jason's eyes. They had been marching at a brisk past to get back to their encampment before night fell, and only bad thing happened when dusk fell; or so Robert claimed as they marched forward with their other none-harmed prisoners tied to ropes behind them. Jaehaerys was instructing the men to keep up, and to drag those on the rope along with them. They did so, and with long whips, to keep them going further and faster, even despite some of them falling onto the ground, which resulted in a beating by one of the other men. Yes, they weren't about to rape the woman, but they weren't going to play fair with the others; that was for sure; she was fortunate to be a commander, not one of those lackies of her's. For that reason, and only for that, would nothing bad come to her. They weren't barbarians anyways; they had some sensibilities when it came to those of command.

The mountain, and hills above their heads were extensive and full of unexpected detours that might lead to one's death at either the hands of a sharp edge or the hands of a hidden band of barbarians or the likes that could swoop down from the hills above like a ghost. There were so many trails, and so many shortcuts, that one could get very lost in this place very quickly and not even realize it for one moment. Indeed, they even had a tour guide with them - a tall, ginger-haired naive of these parts, his name was Hugo, after Hugo the Hill, the first king of Andalos. He himself didn't claim descend from the King, but he did claim that honor belonged to House Arryn of the Vale, not to any of them here left in Andalos, or if they did, it was through a bastard branch of it rather than the true lawful ideal.

"So your like the Bronze Bitch of the Vale?" Robert asked the guide. The Bronze Bitch was a bastard daughter of Lord Royce, and she was a stubborn one, or so Robert claimed. He claimed to visit her every once in awhile to visit Elbert Arryn in the Vale, considering she was a guide there. Jason wouldn't know, considering he'd never been to the Vale in his life, most unfortunately. Robert claimed that the girl despite being only five-and-ten years of age was a right riotous little thing and that she made him laugh despite only being a guide of the Vale; he believed that Elbert set her up for the position as guide mostly for the laughs, actually. "The Bronze Bitch does things similarly to you - guiding people, mostly to keep away from those clan bastards and other unseemly things." He laughed once again. "And also to keep people on the right track, of course." One could lost in the Vale without a guide too.

Hugo shrugged. "Oh, I guess so." Hugo of the Hills was a large man, but not as large as Robert - he stood at nearly a head shorter than the Lord of Lys, and he also wore the most basic of clothing, like a peasant. He didn't wear any House Insignias on his person, but he did wear a ruby ring - the only sign of wealth that Jason could see on him. He also wore a plain, quilted blue-colored shirt with some leather pants and a pair of large, lumbering mountainous shoes to add on it. "We don't have 'clan' bastards, but we have a network of bandits in these parts. They're quite a danger, and that's one reason why Pentoshi hasn't built anything on these ridges yet - it's because their construction workers would be likely be killed before even got to the top of one the immense hills." He put his emerald hand behind his large, robust neck before nervously rubbing it awkwardly.

"The Arryns would think of this place as home sweet home if they ever came through here, that is." Jason smirked. It was quite remarkably what Jason thought of the Vale, given how hilly both places were. Jason also wondered where Hugo's holy hill was - if they could find it, that was. It seemed very unlikely, given that any numbers of these hills could be where Hugo saw the Seven coming from out of the Hills, at least according to the Faith. Jason was but a mild worshiper of the Seven, but not very much given that his own father had never been very interested in the complexities of the Seven, given that he was much more interested in fighting, warring, and other military activities than that. Of course they had a Septa to teach them the ways of the Seven Aspects of the One God, and other things, but nothing very complex. Indeed, their mother worshiped trees of all things - his father had never been very devout to the Seven, as it was. "Where's Hugo's hill, Hugo?" Jason wondered, thinking about it.

"A way from here." Hugo replied. "It's very obvious where it is, given that on the mount there's a rather large sept sitting on it's top; and it's the safest route to get to in all of Andalos, given that's it's a path guarded zealously by the Poor Fellows and their likes. I need not of even Billy here to get there, considering it's a path of giving freely to oneself and thus I require no spare goods as a result of this.." He patted the backside of his travelling small horse with a dashing smile. The horse had food and other supplies stacked on top of it thick saddle, like most of their own horses. They had made plans to camp before returning back to the hub, but Robert deemed it unnecessary and that they needed to get back to their safe location before dawn, mostly to prevent themselves from getting raided or attacked by bandits or on the off-chance, some of the men that they let run away decide to come back around and re-attack them on the Hills. They had quite a few men over them, despite still presumably still being dispersed in the area. If they got their act together, and attacked them before dawn without them suspecting a thing, than they'd be finished as far as it went.

"You have Poor Fellows, in Braavos of all things?" Robert heard this with wild-eyes. "Best we don't tell the burnt up ashes of King Maegor 'bout this development, or else his bones might suddenly rise up and ride his dragon once again to burn them to rumble." He was joking, but the subtext was there. Maegor I had banished them from the land with his Valyrian sword of Blackfyre and his dragon of Ballerion - and that he'd be wroth to find out that his sentencing had been carried out in other lands. Jason wondered if the High Septon knew about this instruction of the ancient, but banished order of Westeros, but did nothing about it... If so, than King Rhaegar can find himself some wildfire & a spite to put the current High Septon on before prying him on it for breaking the law of the land. Jason thought, knowing his history well enough to know what would happen to the poor man if that were true indeed. But then again, this was a different country, so it was possible that the High Septon would get a free pass, if not very reluctantly and possibly with some level of scrutiny involved there.

Jason laughed, regardless. The man responded with a gentle sigh, "I think we need to get moving before we run into marauders or unseemly creatures, like cougars, of whom are known to stray here from the mountains." He didn't say another word about Poor or any other of the Fellows when Robert made that joke about Maegor I the Cruel being unhappy about this development though. Jason had other questions to ask him in regards to the Poor Fellows, but somehow he doubted the poor man knew very much. One of Jason's own grand-sires was a Warrior Son, giving up his title as Lord of Stonehelm to join the Order against Maegor I, to be burnt to cinders whilst fighting alongside Ser Lyle Bracken, of whom survived the fighting though, until he was killed in King's Landing against Maegor I and his six champions.

"Yes, indeed. We do." Robert replied, with a smirk.

Obara Sand

The fresh scent of peppermint came overhead, as Obara Sand and her siblings marched through the streets of Lys, their arms ready and in plain sight for all those miscreants that dwelt on the low-hanging fruits of the city to see. Obara had personally requested this career opportunity, given that she wasn't just going to sit inside all day whilst her father became liken to their uncle, Doran - slow-acting and patient, so unlike the fearsome man that Oberyn once was. But Obara paid no attention to that, as she marched, donning the raven-gold armor of House Baratheon on her person; along with a long spear in hand. Following her, were her sister's Nymeria, with her beauty that Obara could never hope to achieve -and Morgan Sand, her uncle's pet In everything besides for Oberyn's own flirtatious nature. Tyene refused to join with them, rather refereeing her time flirting with Maric Baratheon than enjoying her time hunting down criminals and the likes - and besides, Obara thought that Tyene was too much of a septa to wish to dirty her delicate little hands like Obara and the others did.

"So, Father says that we're to find evidence on a whorish rebellion." Obara smirked. She knew her way around brothels, given that her own mother was a whore from Old Town, when her father was attending his sister's marriage wedding ceremony. He said that the wedding was better though, and that he had just gotten her mother as a celebratory fuck rather than anything else. Elia had reportedly been unhappy about that little decision of his, and had politely asked him to stop whoring in front of their guests, which he ignored Obara guessed, given how she, Elia her namesake, and Nymphi were conceived. "Or just anything about the 'ladies' in question. I'm game for storming them, if you are." She stared at their first location - the grand hall of the Black Swann - or Johanna's place, given that was her true name - it stood towering over the four of them, with the Black and white insigma of House Swann emboldened on the top sculpture of it; and not to mention, the place was shaped like a white Swan. It was no wonder why that piss boy Jason Swann loved this place, Obara thought dully, It was a legacy to that Lordlings family.

"No, Obara." Nymphi spoke, coldly. "It's much too large to be stormed. We only have a limited men, given that most of them are off fighting the underworld gangs, like the girlish Bell's from their master Lord Bellamy the Despicable, or even the all-woman gang of Stormer, brought to you by Lord Guy Desrosiers." She had listed a few of them, but their were more, and if not properly contained they would destroy entire blocks of lands with some gunpowder brought to them by the Yi-Tsh exports they sometimes raided for supplies. They had enough to blow a proper bomb - something that worried Obara, and Lady Lyanna, given her reaction to the news. It went as well as one would expect, with Lyanna shouting angrily at those that protected the exports of Yi-Tish goods for incompetence and negligence of duty, and giving them a nice shot of their prison of which was getting a remodeling done to it, considering it had been nothing prior. "That's just to name a few. If we were to raid them now, they'd know it and come after us, which is very bad Obara. We can't afford to be careless, for ours and Lady Lyanna's sakes." She responded coolly. Nymphi may have been prettier than her, but she had always been as cool as a whip on the odd occasion, like now.

"Shush, Nymphi." She snapped. They weren't in private - but than again, when have they ever been in secret? Everyone in this infernal of a city had spies, in every single little corner of everywhere. It was impossible to have an conversation with anyone without being spied upon by some miscreant of a fellow, paid by some powerful lord that wanted insight into the court of the She-Wolf and her cubs. Personally, Obara felt nothing for the little Lordlings. Maric was a pretty boy with a knack for flirting and whoring with basically every girl he saw, Baldric loved the thrill of the fight and basically lived for fighting, Lyonel was the devout one, and Jon, well Jon was something entirely different from the rest of his siblings. He wasn't a womanizer. but that didn't mean he had some charm in him - he was very charming, or so Tyene reported, in her gossipy voice, and he didn't lack in courage like Baldric, but neither was he some kind of sept like Lyonel was... He was something entirely different from the rest of them. "Being careless would be letting these bloody whores knowing of our plan. They can poison you with a little bottle of Lysesian poison - like they've tried doing countless times to Lyanna Stark." She hissed, quieting her voice when staring at her sister. They've attempted doing the old Dornish trick they did - but with acid instead of snakes, which was also rather dangerous . Lyanna survived the attack on her person, given that she wasn't the one whom pressed open her own door to discover the trick underneath though. Some poor chap was burnt up outside of her quarters - and they didn't even know whom it was, that's the thing about it.

"Yes, sister." Nymphi sighed, staring around her. "Let us go inside though. Lady Belle is inside, and she's waiting for us." Lady Belle was the key to their entire operation - and she may be willing to talk about this shadowy rebellion that had Lyanna all paranoid about her safety - and for a good reason, the whores here in Lys were well-known for being poisoners, as well as seducers amongst other things, but that was a different story - and they had some of the most dangerous poisons in the world here in Lys that they could use to kill Lyanna or any of her offspring at a drop of a hat. If it were up to Obara, than all hell would let loose upon the denizens of this brothel, but alas their mutual father said that she wasn't allowed to do that. Obara decided to letting someone else do the talking that was more diplomatic than she - a hulking girl, was.

"I'm not doing the talking. That's Morgan's job." She stared at her half-brother. He was a smooth talking handsome young man at about her age - of whom wore silks instead of armor, and whom's weapon was his insipid tongue than a weapon in hand. He had chestnut-colored hair that fell gently to his shoulders and deep sky-blue eyes to add on it to his appearance of handsomeness in the eyes of many woman. His mother had been a lady Hightower from a cousining branch to the main one, which was the cause of much scandal, given that he did indeed fuck a Hightower during his sister's own wedding, before meeting Obara's own mother in Old Town; and because of that, Doran took care of much of Morgan's childhood - which resulted in a product so far from her hot-headed cousin Arianne that she herself could hardly believe it when she first saw him walking with Oberyn. He was so patient and cunning in his ways that it took her breath away almost;, and her own father's apparently when he first saw his only son for the first time in nearly seventeen years.

"I will gladly talk to the dear sweet little woman for you, younger sister. Woman do love to hear me talk to them, or so I hear from all me bed-mates I've collected over the years." He winked his blue eyes at her, before smugly walking into the brothel like he owned the place or something. Obara escorted him inside, her spear ready. She ignored all of the lewdly dressed silver-haired woman - and continued in. Of course there was fuckery going on, around her, but Obara could ignore it. She spent much of her childhood in a brothel - she wasn't about to let them get to her now, of all things.

As they walked inside, Morgan kept on looking at all the lewd things in the brothel and laughing besides himself when he saw it. Obara felt a unneeded sense of disgust at the prospect, but alas, she continued walking forwards, into the bar.

"Get on with it, Morgan." Nymphi huffed to Morgan, of whom kept on procrastinating to the naked woman on the sidelines, of whom were playing with other men with their large titties and crafty smiles. Morgan gave them a thumbs up before continuing down the lane to the main exhibit of the day; which was the pole dancer presumably, given the large crowd surrounding the large podium filled with three nudly cladded woman of whom were smiling seductively and shaking their titties around like rolling balls with their gentle hands; Belle was on the centre pole however - and almost naked saved two little pink elephants on her nipples and some flannel pink underwear. That was the exact to her; she also was a short thing, with bright blue hair that fell behind her back like a mermaid. Nymphi looked a bit angry as usual, Obara felt a sense of nothingness however. Her own mother did things very similarly when she was out whoring for men in the whore house. This was nothing special at all for Obara, indeed.

They got through the crowd fairly easily, given how two of them had spears. They even dispersed it somewhat, with people giving them looks, which was yet again, nothing special.

"Allo my beautiful pole-woman!" He was smiling cheekily, down below their podium. "If I didn't have a lovely lady meself, I'd invite you all back to our lovely fort with me and me sisters, but alas my current Lady would greatly disapprove of it. So alas, I'm rather monogamous for now.." Actually, unlike their father Morgan had only a sexual attraction towards woman, and wished for a monogamous married relationship, unlike some of them. He was quite different from them from how he behaved, to how he spoke, indeed, his entire behavior was well-cultured, and to Obara personally, he was almost fire-proof purely in the most physiological sense, almost as though he could never be quite hurt by it even if he sat in the middle of a boiling pit of fire. She was sure that he'd end up leaving it as a Targaryen might - unharmed and pressed to continue in whatever he was doing prior.

"Oh, you're the Sand-Snakes, I assume I've heard of you before, tehehe." Belle's voice sounded beautiful and melodic, like the sound of the Old Town's chantry ringing for the hours of the day. "I wasn't expecting you, so soon. Mind if I have something for my sweet lil time-y?" Her wide blue eyes stared at them, almost pleadingly, as she went to a crouch, her breasts pressed again one of the bar.

"Yes." Morgan took off one of his emerald rings, before gently setting it in her hands. She smiled, before putting on one of her gentle fingers and was admiring the ring so awe-stricken that Obara found her facial expression to be rather cute in a way, before she hopped off stage unexpectedly, and somehow landed into Morgan's arms. Morgan looked like he hadn't been expecting that from a whore of all things; his hands were placed against her soft, buttox. Usually, a man would look honored and even impressed by such an act from a whore, but Morgan looked positively terrified by it. His face color turned from a paisley white color to a bright red in a matter of seconds.

"Do you not have any balls, Morgan?" Obara wondered, staring at him in almost a look of disbelief.

"How else am I supposed to respond, Obara? She jumped straight at me, like a fookin' mad woman." He snarled at Obara, before gently setting Belle down onto the ground like a proper gentlemen, but not before she kissed right in the sucker. He didn't protest against, but neither did he seem pleased about it, as he was the one to pull away from her gently a second later. Her red lipstick colored his lips red though, unfortunately, but he didn't seem to mind it too terribly much, She was still smiling largely, as she held his hand, and gave him a winking, flirty look. He didn't take the bait. Obara thought that he had the tiniest balls she'd ever see on a man, to refuse a whore when she was clearly asking for it, in a brothel nevertheless. Only a septon or a fool would refuse a willing whore that clearly wanted to fuck him of all things, Obara supposed.

"Oh, did you not like me doing that, Lord?" Morgan sighed besides himself, as he brought her out, his hand placed on her buttox, as if to give the allusion of them doing something else, otherwise it would be unbelievably suspicious if they didn't do otherwise. They'd need to talk, given that Belle was willing too.

"Of course I did." He was lying of course, but he was such a flawless liar. One such as herself would never know that he was lying, if he didn't know him of course. "It got me into me wet for you, Belle. But regardless, let's talk. You know this whore personally that's responsible for the 'shadow' rebellion?" He asked, staring at her as he covered her with his jacket, like a proper nobleman would to a Lady. He also was holding her shoulders, as he escorted her by holding her hips. His blue eyes looked extremely strong-willed, as he held her in his arms.

"Oh.. her... She was... once the concubine of the past Prince of Lys before he was murdered, of course, and she was his favourite out of all of his concubines, before ye arrived of coursa. Her name was Lynesse Hightower, and she was so powerfully influenced during the Prince's reign, that she even made the Prince's legal wife fear her. Indeed, she had been hoping to overrule him ... in order to become the next Black Swann of Lys, or in this case, the Black Tower as she's requested to be called." She sounded like a child, as she whispered to him underneath his thick, long jacket. Obara didn't know if she was feeding them lies - which was possible, given that she had just told them this information easily and without protest. But maybe, the gold convinced her to tell them though- that was a sudden possibility as well.

"Ah." He winked at her, gently. That didn't take much effort on his part, did it? Obara though. "I swear on my honor, I wouldn't let anything happen to you because of this. Please, come back with me to the estate. I can protect you there." He responded softly.

"But.. but she'll find me. You have no idea how influential she is here. She's the Queen of Whores, after-all" Her eyes widened once again. "But I'll join ye, because ye are my best opportunity to be rid of Lynesse's fifth off my chest. Even if I'm dead in the mornin', I suppose I told someone. She made me - amongst othah's swear an oath of eternal loyalty to her but Imma not to sure bout other 'o. But anyhow, her top lieutenant and bedwarmer is one of the old Magister-Prince's brothers . That's all I know about her activities thus far; I know because of me treachery to her that she'll cut off mee wittle lady bits and feed them to her dogs if she knew I spoke to ye. I'll join yee, but please, please, don't let her take her and do all of those terrible things to me." Her blue eyes widened, with unsaid fear in them, as she whispered in the gentle ear of her brother. Of course Obara could hear it, but that only served to make her nervous as she stared at the full market place in front of them. They were also being stared at by the brightly-colored small-folk of whom dwell here, in large crowds, making it feel as though Obara was being suffocated by their presents. There had never been as much people here than in Dorne - In Dorne, there were a limited populous, but nothing this utterly nauseating and suffocating, as though she was being held behind one door as hundreds were streaming past her through one little door. It was truly insufferable, but Obara wouldn't complain though.

He whispered something else to her and than gave her a quick kiss on one of her soft, pink-painted cheeks. In all honesty, the girl was painted a blue coloring, on her hands and gentle white cheeks. She also had some gentle acne sprayed across her cheeks, making her seem so very young and even more innocent, given that she was a whore of all things. Her parents must've been truly impoverished to make her a whore - or they must be dead, and she an orphan. She'd heard and seen several stories of little girls being forced to sell their young bodies in order to keep their families out of complete impoverishment, or them being simple orphans with nothing to protect them beyond the whore-houses, which provided a level of protection against the outside elements. Or they were simply born into the ropes of being whores through their mothers - that's also possible as well, but it was much more common for them being born outside of the whoring business rather than otherwise.

Obara agreed that they needed to keep the little one safe from being murdered by Lynesse and her gang of influence over the sexual island - afterall, Lys was well known for being the place of sex and luxury - but also a place of deceit, and back-stabbing, that kind of uncivil, barbaric behavior the rest of em in charge of the island were attempting to curtail that barbaric practices from within it, but it was hard and would take some time for it to happen. The civilians were used to it, indeed and even encouraged such barbarism to continue for their own self-gain. It was honestly disgusting, the things her father told her. She was glad that those uncivilized, illicit Magisters (or Princes) were hung up in those shimmering silver gibbets across the city, for all of those unscrupulous people in the underbelly of the beast to see if they so wished to challenge the might of Lyanna's power in this realm. They only had them to speak too, if they so wished to see the fate of those that choice to deny the true ruler of Lys there dues.

"We'll protect you, no matter what." He responded, softly. He took her one her gentle hands, before bringing it up his lips to kiss it, like a traditional nobleman would do to his Lady wife or love interest of sorts.

She nodded, as they moved through the lines of people. It seemed never-ending, before Obara saw it. Woman dressed in loose fabric - with knives in hand, coming towards them, with wicked smiles on their faces. Everyone seem to leave the grounds, besides for them though.

"Get out of the way, Morgan, less you find yourself hurt by these hoes in front of us. Go run off and bring Belle to safety in the estate." She put her pike into position, and her sister brought out her morning star. The look on their faces were fearsome, despite wearing loose, whore's clothes. One of them even had a whip on her person, as she approached them, first and foremost. She had bright cheery pink colored hair in pigtails, and poppy pink colored big lips. Obara had some poison on her even, that her sister, Tyene, had made her just in case of a situation like this; it was made from some of the Dornish snakes that she and her father had milked when they were in Dorne. Indeed, Obara would use it right now, but she was terribly afraid that one of the woman could use it against her if they knew about it being there; or, the more likely chance, than they poisoned their own blades with Lysesian poisons.

She lift her pike up into a defense posture. "We're not giving you the girl. Get, before I Obara Sand, decide to destroy you, which myself and my sister will do without mercy." She stared directly at them.

The woman in the middle smirked. "I'm not afraid of you, little woman. You are outnumbered two to one here, little tiny Sandsnake. We've heard of you and your sister's fearsome reputation, but It unfortunately, shall not save you here." She didn't say give them the girl, like some kind of cliche, at least not yet, Obara thought staunchly as she and her brother disappeared from site under the basically unlimited crowd. The way to the castle was not too far, but Obara worried that their might be more of these assassins still out there in the vast, unsolvable crowd. But she trusted Morgan to bring her back safely to the castle gates; he may have been a wimp and a coward with the blade, but he was no slouch when it came to being street-smart and as clever as one could be when it came down to it. He could disappear and not be seen again in a bustling crowd of people, if he so choice too. It was a beneficial ability that Obara did not have at this very moment, even though she could think of several ways such an ability could be utilized eff right now, as she was surrounded by these three clashed woman.

"All I see are three of you." Nymphi responded coolly. "If you've heard of our repute, than you should bring more than just bluster." She responded with one of her very rare smiles, which could make men wet themselves with unsaid desires, due to her overwhelming beauty.

At that, the woman rushed them with their weaponry. Obara raised her long spear, and attacked them in return. She cut off two of their heads with her long sword - including the middle woman's head, and her sister attacked the two others. Obara couldn't see Morgan and the blue-haired girl now, which meant they had hopefully disappeared. She'd fight them as long as she could, to keep them from being captured... if they weren't already though.

Her sister used her morning star to smack the third whore in her face, which caused her to collapse upon it hitting her. She then proceeded to beat her head until it cracked like a watermelon would. The blood and bile from the woman's crushed skull went everywhere, including on Obara's sandals. Obara didn't care though- it would send a message towards her enemies to follow. She was also sure there were more to come of those assassin woman to come, given that they did say there was more than the three of them; even though Obara was sure that she was just bluffing, even though she didn't appear that way to Obara.

Mary

"So, your the infamous Bloody Mary. I've heard 'bout you. Your a cold-blooded murderess, you are; you burned entire towns down during conflicts with other groups, as well as skinning those that remained alive." Said one of Robert's lackies, as she sat strapped on the ground of their tent after they brought her there. She had woken up moments soon, but being surrounded by these ugly men made her want to make someone an eunuch. In fact, her first sexual experience had ended in her eunching them, for the fact that they had raped her. Her father had been dead, ages ago, of some cold; so a girl had to do what a girl must do in order to defend her feminine parts; indeed, she grew so bloody in her conquests, that she herself heard a rumor that she dyed her hair with the blood her fallen victims. She smiled, and even revelled at such a rumor - it served to make her repute fearsome.

She smirked. "Yer not the first man to say that, and nor are you the first man to feel my steel on yer balls, and that ain't a warnin' sweetie pea. My dog, Rosie, loves to eat dicks as a past time. I shite you not." She responded, with a grin on her face. Rosie was the name of her first victim that did her act of running away like a good girl and properly for that- after that her, Alfred and Rikard, her two top dogs came bursting forward - both of them were named after men that gave her a good fight, as they ran nude from her dogs, with looks of fear on their faces. She chuckled, remembering them screaming as they tried outrunning her dogs. Some escaped, but most did not. They were hunted down by her dogs - and if they gave her a good fight, she'd make sure that their deaths were painless and that the next breed of male pups from her animal would be named after him - but if they didn't, than she'd skin them alive and make good use of their skin. Sometimes, she wore it as armor, but she realized that it simply wasn't good enough as armor, and decided on simply making them treasures in her room to look at every once in awhile.

"Your a fucked up woman. How did you not did not die yet in this world?" The man in front of her was a ugly, fat, short man with a receding hairline. He had some black teeth in there, along with some pulled out teeth, showing his dirty, pink gums underneath his fat, double-chinned little face. She was quite unimpressed with him being the one to care for her, of all people, but it was better than nothing. At least they were giving her some attention, even if they were the lowest of low denominator of people's. They didn't wear a Westeros House Insigma, they were that important in Robert's group of Brave Adventurers. Which meant to say, not important in the slightest and thus none of her concerns. She was dealing with a grunt, not with the real deals, like she wanted. She was an important figure, afterall. Or so she thought.

"Because people fear me. I once got gang-raped by a group of men thinkin' I was like some brood, and they even cut off my eye in the process." She lifted up her raven-colored bandanna covering her missing eye to show it to the man, of whom was gaping his ugly, rotten teeth at it, as if he hadn't such a thing in all of his years of living. "but they soon learned the errors of their ways, because afterwards, I swore revenge against them. In the middle of the night, I went into each of their rooms, cutting off their dicks one by one.. as a treat for my dogs, of course. But not before brutally murdering them, with my own handmade torture devices. I use to be the torturer of the group, you see." She smiled one of her blood-chilling smiles at the man. It would be of no use hiding her true self from someone whom knew of her repute, now would it? She may play nice for her group and others to see, but the truth of her nature was much more gruesome and heartless than anyone would ever expect out of a woman of all things. She'd do what she did in private, not around for others to see and beheld in terror, much less they kill her for her actions.

The man looked baffled, as he stepped back from her in a sort of haze. She felt a sense of gratitude, at scaring people this way. It earned her a very gruesome repute though, and nobody dared raped or touched her now. Not without her permission - and she had a paramount already - she loved pretty, nobleman, so she chose to torture one into being her Reek creature, and her lover for life, given that his entire life was now her's. His name had been Roderick Westerling before being her little Reek toy - and he had been a delicious moral, as she devoured him whole in a matter of a year or so, given that he lacked the will to keep on resisting her lovely charms. It was a terrible shame though, that the Maester declared her infertile - she would've liked to have a son from him, or something, to keep as a memo to her time with him, but that was not all the case.

She stared at her wound, which was cleansed and bandaged with a white, soft bandage on her side, before sighing softly; she's thank R'llor for saving her from certain death though .She'd also settle for laying on the soft, white blanket, as she awaited for Robert Baratheon, nearby the soft flames she was neabry as someone was cooking some cool fish on one of the tethers above the flames. Nobody was talking to her, but she didn't mind. She liked the sounds of silence than people talking to her anyhow.

The sky was dark above her head, and the flames of the fire were fearsome, uncontrollable forces. She had always been fascinated by flames, all throughout her life - and she found it even more thrilling to think about flesh being burnt off as someone cried in terror. She'd take secret pleasures by those thoughts, though she wouldn't act on them - not after she was out of this rather large encampment and until she was with her own group of people, and inexplicably, free with Reek and her entire gang. Though, even around them she had to hold herself back, less they leave her to go someone else's group.